HERITAGE OF PERIL
 
 He made a quick movement as if to strike the cup from her hand. 
 
 Page 66.
 
 THE HERITAGE 
 OF PERIL 
 
 Ey ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BY RIGHT OF SWORD" 
 AND "A DASH FOR A THRONE*' 
 
 Illustrations by EDITH LESLIE LANG 
 
 GROSSET 6f DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS : : NEW YORK
 
 Copyright, 1900 
 
 by 
 NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK COMPANY
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PROLOGUE PAGE 
 
 THE HERITAGE . 7 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PROSPECT OF PERIL Ip 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE COUNT DE MONTALT , 27 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "YOU ARE ROLANDE LESPARD " 36 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A BRIBE 46 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A DARING ATTEMPT 58 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A RECKLESS ENEMY . 6? 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 " I WANT TO KNOW ALSO WHO YOU ARE " 77 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AN OMINOUS MEETING 88 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " I KNOW YOUR WHOLE STORY " 99 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE PAST 107 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE STORY OF RED DELILAH .... * . Il6 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 TOM CHERlTOll's SUSPICIONS 127 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW 137 
 
 1136988
 
 6 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XIV PAGE 
 
 THE TRUTH J 48 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 BESSIE'S RESOLVE 156 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 TOM CHERITON INTERVENES I7O 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE COUNT'S NEXT MOVE l8o 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 CLOSING IN 192 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 DESSIE'S VISITOR 203 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 DAPHNE AGAIN 214 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE COUNT'S PLANS 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 A LAST DEVICE 234 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 TRAPPED 244 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 IN THE HAND OF THE ENEMY 254 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 FACE TO FACE 262 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 DAPHNE'S STORY 273 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 WITH INTENT TO MURDER 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A GRIP OF DEATH 2Q2 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 CONCLUSION .* 301
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 He made a quick movement as if to strike the cup from her 
 hand. Frontispiece. 
 
 She stood gripping the back of a chair and fighting for calm- 
 ness. Page 26. 
 
 " He'll be dead in an hour by nine, say." Page 33. 
 
 He commenced instantly to overhaul its contents. Page 92. 
 
 " Tell me the truth, for Heaven's sake, Daphne." Page 147. 
 
 " Here constable, this lady has been robbed." Page 165. 
 
 " Stop where you are if you want to live ! " Page 233. 
 
 The flash of a revolver almost blinded him. Page 291. 

 
 THE HERITAGE OF PERIL 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 THE HERITAGE 
 
 IN the ladies' room on the Midland platform of the 
 great New Street Station, Birmingham, one March after- 
 noon, Dessie Merrion sat waiting for her train, and 
 watching with strongly-roused interest a well-dressed 
 woman who was her only companion in the room. 
 
 The girl was about one and twenty ; quick and capable 
 in looks, and her small, regular features and her gen- 
 eral manner suggested considerable independence, self- 
 resource, and natural capacity. Knitting needles were 
 clicking swiftly in her deft fingers, and thus without 
 waste of time she could watch her companion out of her 
 shrewd grey eyes. 
 
 The two had been almost alone in the room for nearly 
 half an hour, and during the time the girl had made one 
 or two little approaches to conversation; but these had 
 met with such a quiet though effectual repulse that she 
 had accepted the defeat with a smile at the elder woman's 
 tact. This had rather increased than lessened her in- 
 terest in the woman, however, and this feeling had been 
 still further heightened by the great contrast which she 
 thought she could perceive between the woman and a 
 man, who was apparently her travelling companion. 
 
 She had read the woman as sympathetic, gentle, re- 
 fined, and endowed with more than a touch of true wom- 
 anly sweetness ; but the man was as repulsive as he was 
 handsome; and when he came to the door of the room
 
 8 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie had conceived an instinctive but violent repug- 
 nance and dread of the brutal qualities which she thought 
 she could detect in his character. 
 
 Such a companionship puzzled the girl ; and as she de- 
 lighted in problems of the kind, she was sorry when a 
 porter came to say that her train was coming in. She 
 put away her knitting, gathered up her very scanty be- 
 longings, and followed the porter out of the room, giving 
 her companion a smile and a pleasant " Good afternoon " 
 as she passed. 
 
 The instant she stepped on to the platform her quick 
 eyes caught sight of a furious struggle that was going on 
 at the far end, the central figure of which was the com- 
 panion of the woman in the waiting-room. Less than 
 half a minute's observation told her what it meant; and 
 she had barely formed her conclusion before she saw 
 handcuffs slipped over the man's wrists, and knew that 
 he had been arrested. 
 
 Being a girl of prompt resource, Dessie turned in- 
 stantly, filled with pity for the woman whose looks had so 
 interested her, and hurried back to warn her. She was 
 still alone, and when she heard the rapidly told news she 
 turned dead white and trembled, looking as though she 
 would faint. But a violent effort gave her self-possession 
 enough to listen to and take Bessie's urgent advice that 
 she should fly at once. She sprang to her feet, and with 
 hasty and somewhat hysterical and incoherent thanks, 
 rushed out of the room by the door on the opposite side 
 from the platform. 
 
 The girl had then to hurry to catch her train, and as 
 her carriage glided out of the station she saw the little 
 group of men still at the end of the platform, the man 
 with the handcuffs standing in the centre, his tall form 
 towering over the others, while his dark, handsome face
 
 Prologue 9 
 
 looked so evil and brutal and menacing that Dessie was 
 glad she had been able to help the woman to escape, and 
 said to herself that she would not be in such a man's 
 power for all that the world contained. 
 
 She was more than ever puzzled by the problem of such 
 a strange companionship, and sat lost in speculation and 
 wonder as to its meaning. A minute or two later, she 
 took down her handbag to get her knitting, and then 
 she made a very unpleasant discovery. 
 
 In the hurry of warning the woman in the waiting- 
 room, and in the excitement that followed, they had 
 changed hand-bags. 
 
 The mishap vexed the girl greatly, and in some respects 
 was rather a serious thing. Her own bag had contained 
 a number of little things which were of no value, but of 
 great use; while one loss was considerable her purse. 
 Her ticket would have gone, too, had it not been that she 
 had taken it out of her purse, and slipped it into her glove, 
 to be in readiness. But the stupidity of the thing irritated 
 her more than the loss. 
 
 " If this is the way I am going to fight my new battle," 
 she said to herself, in her vexation, " I may as well give 
 it up at the start." But her practical common sense as- 
 serted itself as she thought further. " My name at least 
 the name, Dessie Merrion is in the bag, and the name 
 and address of the people to whom I am going ; so that, 
 unless that woman is very different from what I think, 
 she'll send it back to me. It's lucky there's nothing in 
 it to connect me with the past, though even if there had 
 been, she could hardly do much, after what I've seen to- 
 day. What a coincidence that two women so placed, 
 each at the turning corner of life, should jostle one 
 another for a moment at a railway station. I wonder 
 whether she would have repulsed me as she did if she had
 
 I o The Heritage of Peril 
 
 known, or whether her kinder nature would have spared 
 me a word of good cheer. I should have liked one from 
 her." 
 
 Then the girl leant back in the carriage to think. 
 
 She was, indeed, at the turning corner of life, as she 
 had said. She was flying from a past which the crime, 
 sin, and shame of others had gloomed and darkened. In 
 bitter experiences, she was twice her age, and if vicious 
 allurements and surroundings, evil counsel and tempta- 
 tion could have dragged her down, she would have fallen. 
 But her innate purity had carried her through all un- 
 scathed. She had stayed by her mother's side until the 
 latter's death had set her free to act for herself, but with 
 a chain of secret sorrow to drag heavily at her heels. 
 
 She had cut herself adrift from the old life with one 
 shrewd stroke. She had assumed a name that was un- 
 tainted by the evil repute that attached to her own, and 
 had started, as she then believed a girl could most easily 
 start, by obtaining a situation as nursery governess. She 
 was on her way to this the family being that of a 
 builder's wife, named Barker, at Hendon when she met 
 with the adventure at Birmingham. 
 
 Something of what the adventure might mean to her 
 she began to understand a little later, when she roused 
 herself from her reverie and began to examine the hand- 
 bag which she had brought away in mistake. 
 
 Her first thought was to look for some clue to the iden- 
 tity of the owner, in order to write to her; but the bag 
 contained nothing in the nature of such a clue. Besides 
 a very few of the trifles which women carry on a journey 
 a piece of tatting work, some hairpins, a button hook, 
 etc., etc. she found in it a handkerchief, new and un- 
 marked ; a pair of gloves, also new ; a beautiful and costly 
 ivory case of needlework requisites quite out of char-
 
 Prologue 1 1 
 
 acter with the bag itself and everything in it ; an envelope 
 with a curl of golden hair a child's; a child's photo- 
 graph, much thumbed and broken at the corners, and 
 stained as if with blistering tears. The girl gazed at this 
 with the wistful half-sad intensity of a woman in whom 
 the instincts of maternity were strong. Then thinking 
 she could trace in the child's face the look which she had 
 seen in the woman's eyes, she smiled to it, as if the little 
 thing could understand, and kissed the face. 
 
 The last thing she scrutinised was the most incon- 
 gruous of all an old, large, shabby leather cigar case, one 
 side of which was much bulged out by the contents. 
 
 It was as ill-fitted a companion for the lovely, dainty 
 needlework case as the respective owners had seemed 
 to be to each other. 
 
 She opened it, and what she had seen of the man deter- 
 mined her to examine it closely. On one side there were 
 two cigars; very good and costly, as the girl was suffi- 
 cient judge to know. She scanned them closely, and then 
 peered down into the empty side from which she had 
 taken them. But her curiosity was much more eager 
 concerning a very thick cake of tobacco, which was in the 
 opposite side of the case, and had caused the bulge that 
 had attracted her notice. 
 
 She drew it out carefully, and then examined it with 
 the most scrupulous minuteness. She knew that she was 
 handling the property of a scoundrel, and her old associa- 
 tions inclined her to suspect it was there for a special pur- 
 pose. Her sharp eyes soon detected a crack in the to- 
 bacco, and a very little manoeuvring and working enabled 
 her to see that it was a cunningly-contrived hiding-place. 
 
 As she opened it she gave vent to a low exclamation. 
 
 Artfully hidden in it was a piece of tarnished gold, in 
 which were set three huge red stones. The girl, who
 
 12 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 knew something of jewels, believed them to be rubies of 
 the purest water, and knew that if genuine, they were 
 worth thousands of pounds. 
 
 As she looked at them she almost held her breath in 
 mingled astonishment, admiration and bewilderment. 
 
 Her first thought was of the temptation which such a 
 possession constituted. She had but to discontinue her 
 journey, turn back, and take the jewels where she knew 
 well they could be disposed of, and they would bring 
 enough money to keep her beyond the reach of trouble all 
 her life. The drudgery to which she was willingly and 
 intentionally going would be unnecessary; and in its 
 place ease, comfort, and independence would be in her 
 reach. Moreover, she could do it with almost absolute 
 safety. She was going in an assumed name to a place 
 where not a soul knew her by sight ; and the trail could 
 be cut without the least difficulty, and with only the re- 
 motest chance of her being found. 
 
 But the temptation never held her for a moment. She 
 hated crime and wrong-doing in every shape, and would 
 as soon have leapt out of the train as have turned back to 
 the life which had always been so hateful to her. 
 
 Then the temptation took a subtler form. It might be 
 all but impossible for Dessie to get rid of the jewels. She 
 could give them back, of course, into the hands of the 
 woman in whose bag they were ; but would this be possi- 
 ble? She could read part of the riddle, she thought. 
 Whatever might be the nature of the companionship of 
 the strange couple whose path she had crossed that day, 
 the man was a scoundrel, probably a thief, and these 
 jewels were no doubt the proceeds of some robbery which 
 he dared not get rid of for a while. Possibly he had an- 
 ticipated the arrest which had taken place, and had put 
 the cigar-case into the, woman's bag for safety; and it
 
 Prologue 1 3 
 
 would depend upon their relations whether the woman 
 herself knew they were there. So far as that was con- 
 cerned, Dessie could only wait for some communication. 
 
 Meanwhile, her own position was one of extreme per- 
 plexity. The woman who had her bag had her address 
 also, and thus could trace her if she went on to Mrs. 
 Barker's. If she gave up the rubies, therefore, to anyone 
 but to her, she must have some kind of proof in writing 
 of what she had done with them. She knew quite well 
 what she ought to do : Call the station master at the next 
 station, give him the bag, and tell him what had happened. 
 But that could have but one effect. The moment the 
 jewels got into the hands of the police, they would ques- 
 tion her closely, and in such an examination there was no 
 chance whatever of escaping an inquiry into her antece- 
 dents and past life. That meant absolute ruin, so far as 
 concerned her present chance, which she had only ob- 
 tained with the greatest difficulty. Come what might, 
 she shut that course out, therefore, as impossible. 
 
 Another possible course was to send the jewels anony- 
 mously to the police, say at Birmingham, through the 
 post. But from that she was cut off by the fact that the 
 owner of the bag could trace her easily ; and the result of 
 such a step by her, if the woman made a fuss, would be 
 worse than the first. 
 
 Thus the irksome heritage of the jewels thrust her upon 
 this dilemma. She must either keep them for the present 
 or by returning them, face exposure and the probability 
 of ruin. She chose the former course, and having 
 chosen, she put back the rubies in their hiding-place, and 
 covering up the cigar case so that no chance prying eye 
 should see that she possessed so strange a piece of un- 
 girlish property, she set herself to think out her best 
 course.
 
 14 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 She calculated that she could not hear from the owner 
 of the bag in less than two days at least; perhaps she 
 would come in person in search of the rubies; and until 
 then the best way was the simplest just to let everything 
 go on as it would have gone, had she not unexpectedly 
 succeeded to this most embarrassing heritage of prob- 
 ably stolen property. When she knew more, she could 
 lay further plans. 
 
 It was not, however, until the fourth day that she 
 heard anything ; and then her own bag was returned with 
 the contents intact and a letter. But the letter had neither 
 address nor name, and it was moreover, most curiously 
 and vaguely worded. It ran as follows : 
 
 " No words that I can write can tell you what I owe 
 you for what you did. You can have no knowledge of 
 what you saved me from. I shall treasure your name as 
 a holy thing, and teach my child to love it. But the reason 
 I cannot tell you. Save for the accident of the changed 
 bags for which I am more thankful than I can say I 
 should never have known your name. I send your bag 
 back to you as I found it. Destroy that which you have. 
 Of the contents, your own instincts will tell you what I 
 should like to have again some day, if ever I can dare to 
 make myself known to you and claim them. Till then 
 keep them, if you can; if not, destroy them, or do with 
 them as you will. May God for ever bless you and send 
 you such a friend as I would love to be to you if I dared. 
 One kindness do me forget all you saw when we met." 
 
 Dessie read this letter over and over again, each time 
 with some fresh cause of bewilderment as to the meaning 
 which lay behind its extraordinary wording, and she 
 spent many hours in trying to unravel the skein which 
 seemed to form so completely tangled a web. 
 
 Then on the third day she made her decision.
 
 Prologue 1 5 
 
 She had left one connecting link with the past. No 
 one knew where she had gone nor what name she had 
 adopted ; but there remained one means by which a letter 
 could reach her. In her own name she had taken a safe 
 at one of the Safe Deposit Companies in London, in order 
 that she might have a perfectly secret address. She had 
 had this hint from what she knew her father had done 
 some years before. 
 
 Her resolve now was to destroy nothing, but to use the 
 safe for the deposit of the handbag and all its contents ; 
 and thus bury the secret where no one would ever think 
 to look for it, and where both secret and jewels would be 
 absolutely safe. She did more than this. Being a clever 
 practical girl, she wrote out at considerable length all the 
 circumstances of the adventure while they were fresh in 
 her memory, and she enclosed the statement with the bag 
 and its strangely assorted contents. 
 
 While doing this another idea occurred to her to get 
 together the fullest possible reports of the trial of the 
 man she had seen arrested, and then judge whether in 
 what transpired she could see a way to rid herself of the 
 jewels without danger. 
 
 In this again she acted with practical common-sense. 
 She sent for copies of the Birmingham papers of the days 
 following the arrest, and having in that way traced the 
 case from its earliest stage, she followed it to the end. 
 
 It was a much more serious one than she had antici- 
 pated. 
 
 The man's crime was a murder committed in France 
 the murder of an old relative named Duvivier, under cir- 
 cumstances of considerable cowardice and great cunning. 
 The arrest had been made under an extradition warrant, 
 and it appeared to have been the result of a purely chance 
 meeting. The detectives being at Birmingham on another
 
 1 6 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 matter, had seen and recognised their prisoner, whose 
 name was Rolande Lespard, and they had taken him on 
 the spot. 
 
 The proceedings, first in England and then in France, 
 dragged on for several months ; but the girl followed 
 them closely, and at length read that the man was sen- 
 tenced, not to death, as he deserved, but to a term of four 
 years at the galleys the jury finding in the ill temper of 
 the murdered man those extenuating circumstances which 
 only a French jury know how to discover. 
 
 But throughout the whole proceedings from first to 
 last not a syllable was said by anyone which could pos- 
 sibly refer to the jewels. 
 
 Dessie Merrion collected the papers, made a careful 
 selection of the best reports, in English and French, and 
 then added them to what she had already deposited in the 
 safe. 
 
 She resolved to preserve silence on her side too, and 
 merely to wait, lest she should ever be questioned about 
 her strange and embarrassing possession. 
 
 For over three years she heard nothing. 
 
 Then one day a letter came. 
 
 She had left Mrs. Barker's and was living in rooms 
 in London, and the letter followed her. 
 
 Again there was no date, nor address, nor signature. 
 
 " I want to warn you. I cannot yet make myself known 
 to you, but you are in my thoughts every day. When I 
 last wrote, I did not know what my bag contained, and 
 what yon will have found. The villain who put it there, 
 and whose trial you have probably seen, is free, and has 
 been to see me, thinking that what it contained would 
 be in my possession. I told him how the change of bags 
 had occurred; but he does not remember your looks in 
 the least; and your name has never passed my lips, and
 
 Prologue 1 7 
 
 never shall. Pray Heaven you may never meet. If you 
 do, shun him as you would, and do, sin. He is an utterly 
 reckless, vicious, desperate, dangerous man. God help 
 the woman who falls into his hands. If you love your 
 life or your honour, do not be that woman. I and my 
 child pray for you always ; I, as for a dear sister." 
 
 The receipt of this letter gave Dessie Merrion food for 
 much meditation; but it did not disturb her as it would 
 once have done. The chances of her ever meeting Ro- 
 lande Lespard were so remote, and the chance that even 
 so he would ever recognise her was so much more remote, 
 that it seemed scarcely worth while to deem it a pos- 
 sibility. 
 
 " We can never meet," she thought. " Beside if we 
 were to, I know him and could keep out of his way; he 
 could not know me, and could have no motive in pursuing 
 me. The secret is fast locked in the safe; and so far as 
 I am concerned, shall never come out while I live. I will 
 never use the jewels; but I will never give them up while 
 there is the remotest chance that in doing so I shall bring 
 trouble on myself. I may be able to give them up safely 
 perhaps if the writer of the letter should make herself 
 known to me if ever. But I will never tell the secret. 
 I shall never forget that man; and I believe I should 
 know him among ten thousand, however disguised. The 
 bare memory of his face sets me shuddering with loath- 
 ing and fear. I am with the writer I would not be in 
 his power for all the world. No, we shall never meet. 
 Though if we did, and if he recognised me " she paused 
 and shivered " those jewels would be in all truth a heri- 
 tage of peril. But it is impossible. I'll go to the safe 
 to-morrow and put this letter with the other papers ; and 
 this is probably the last I shall ever hear of the whole 
 matter."
 
 1 8 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 She carried out her intention, and on the following day 
 added the letter to the papers, some of which she took 
 out and re-read with engrossing interest and curiosity. 
 
 Then they were locked up again in the safe, as she then 
 believed, not to be disturbed for the rest of her life.
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PROSPECT OF PERIL 
 
 " HERE'S a health to the Old Bailey, Dessie, and long 
 life to all the causes that give one a criminal practice and 
 point the road to a marriageable income ; " and the 
 speaker, a handsome frank-faced man of about thirty, 
 smiled to his hostess, lifted his small cup of tea, and 
 drained it at a draught. 
 
 Dessie Merrion laughed in response, and a happy light 
 shone in her eyes, and a flush of colour tinged her rather 
 pale cheeks at the reference in his last words. 
 
 " Let's add, and good luck to the Press, Tom, and to 
 all who paved the way for the woman journalist." 
 
 " A fairly comprehensive toast, taken altogether ; but 
 if you and I can't be generous when briefs are coming 
 in, who can and when ? I always did like it, but I shall 
 be glad to see it changed." He spoke in a matter of fact 
 tone that made the girl pucker her forehead, puzzled as 
 to his meaning. 
 
 " Oh," she cried, as a smile smoothed out the puckers 
 and spread over her face, while she lifted her left hand 
 and kissed the engagement ring a handsome diamond 
 solitaire that glistened on her finger " I couldn't think 
 for the moment what you meant." 
 
 * Puzzled you to think that I should want you changed 
 in anything, eh? I don't, except in that. Heigho, what 
 
 '9
 
 20 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 times we will have! Do you know I hate those beastly 
 chambers of mine worse every time I go into them? If 
 my uncle hadn't been such a crotchety old idiot dear old 
 boy that he is I shouldn't have had to go into them half 
 so often ; and the world would have been spared an awful 
 lot of profanity. I'm afraid it'll tell against the dear old 
 chap when the reckoning comes. He knows all about it, 
 so he can't plead ignorance. If he'd been at the bar, he'd 
 know what a frightful lot of work it takes to earn two 
 hundred pounds a year." 
 
 " But you're nearly doing it now ? Besides, I could 
 earn nearly that before I was ill." 
 
 " Ah, but that doesn't count. He swears he'd never 
 consent to the marriage at all if he thought you meant to 
 do a single stroke of work to take you away from your 
 real mission in life looking after me. He knows my 
 worth." 
 
 " Or how- much you need looking after," said Dessie, 
 smiling again. " I shouldn't give up my work without 
 regret, for I know nothing in life so sweet as earning 
 one's" 
 
 r ' Nothing?" interpolated Tom Cheriton, looking into 
 her eyes, and taking her hand in his. 
 
 " I wouldn't give it up for anyone but you," she an- 
 swered. 
 
 " The sooner it's over the better. I wish it was to be 
 to-morrow, Dessie. Ever since you took that wretched 
 fever in that beastly slumming expedition of yours after 
 ' realistic copy,' I've hated the thought of newspapers con- 
 nected with you." 
 
 " Yet it was the fever which gave me one of the two 
 real friends I have in the world Dora." 
 
 " It very nearly robbed me of you altogether, child," 
 said the man, tenderly and lovingly. " And that thought
 
 The Prospect of Peril 21 
 
 undeilies my opinion. Why, even now, you are as pale 
 and weak as you can be." 
 
 " I should have been dead had it not been for Dora's 
 nursing. Dear little mass of inconsistencies that she is. 
 Who would have dreamt that under that surface of 
 frivolity and vanity and shallowness such a heart could 
 beat. I only hope I may ever have a chance of repaying 
 her." 
 
 " Pretty young widows with five or six thousand a 
 year don't stand in need of much help as a rule." 
 
 " Well, if ever the need came, I would venture my life 
 for her, as she ventured hers for me." 
 
 " As much of it as I could permit to be staked, I pre- 
 sume you mean. But there can scarcely be any need. 
 Her new husband will probably take care of that. Con- 
 found it, to think that while we've been engaged twelve 
 months, and may have another year to wait, she's only 
 been engaged about a fortnight, and is already talking 
 about being married. I believe they'll be married long 
 before us, after all." 
 
 " She is very much in love with him, at any rate. I 
 never read such a letter as her last. She has exhausted a 
 perfect conscript army of superlatives to express admira- 
 tion. I wonder what he's like. Have you ever seen him, 
 Tom?" 
 
 " Seen him ? No, how could I ? They met somewhere 
 on the Continent, and haven't been in town since. I never 
 heard of the man. But I've seen poor George Vezey," 
 and Cheriton laughed, good-humoredly. 
 
 " Poor Mr. Vezey ! I think he really cares for her 
 much more than any of you will allow." 
 
 " How can a Johnnie like that have feelings ? " 
 
 " He loves her, Tom, as surely as surely as you love 
 me. And I am sure this engagement will cut him to the
 
 22 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 quick. I know when a man's in earnest, and for all his 
 affectations and surface silliness, George Vezey is a man, 
 and would have made Dora a good husband. I only hope 
 the man what's his name? this Count de Montalt, will 
 make her as good a one. But what does Mr. Vezey 
 say?" 
 
 " Oh, you know his way, Dess ; well, if you can ima- 
 gine what the effect of a spoonful of strong vinegar would 
 be in a tin of Devonshire cream, you have his state of 
 mind. He's as good-natured a fellow as ever stepped, 
 but he hates this chap,de Montalt ; and it wouldn't be fair 
 to take his evidence as without bias. What makes him 
 more wild than enough, too, is that he himself introduced 
 the Count you should hear him say, the Count he's 
 like a dog that's got hold of a bit of peppered meat ; it's 
 glorious fun. Poor old George! He won't say all he 
 thinks ; but it's easy to see what he thinks that the man's 
 a bad egg." 
 
 " I hope for Dora's sake he's too jealous to be right. 
 She's just the woman whom a bad man would nearly 
 kill." 
 
 " Yes, she's a bit weak, isn't she ? Wants such a hus- 
 band, for instance, as as " he stopped and laughed very 
 brightly, looking into her face with a challenge. 
 
 " As I can't spare, eh? " she replied, slipping her hand 
 through his arm, and turning up her face, " Mr. Vanity." 
 Then in a serious tone she added, " I shall be glad to see 
 him and judge for myself. We must stand by Dora in 
 this, Tom. I mean to ; and I'm bound to say I don't like 
 the way this thing has started. I shouldn't be a bit sur- 
 prised if her head's been turned by the man's handsome 
 face, probably helped by a lot of the rubbishy things that 
 most of you men think most of us women like and he's 
 snapped her up for the sake of her money."
 
 The Prospect of Peril 23 
 
 "Yes, I should think that's about it," he said with 
 mock seriousness. " Oh, Dessie, what a detective you 
 would make! Here you are, without a single fact or 
 scrap of evidence, and yet you've got your theory of the 
 crime quite pat just like most police theories." , 
 
 " Well, we shall see. At least, I shall," she answered 
 with a smile. " I don't care a bit what you say. I'm not 
 a scrap biassed ; but you'll see I'm about right." 
 
 "Possibly; women are born to guess. But now, I 
 must be off. And look here, a word before I go. If you 
 go dipping these little fingers " and he held them up and 
 kissed them as he spoke, slowly and with emphasis 
 " into other people's hot pies, you mustn't be a bit sur- 
 prised if you get them burnt, or at least manage to do no 
 more than spill some of the grease and stain on your own 
 clothes. Good-bye ! " He laughed, kissed her two or 
 three times very lovingly and then went out. 
 
 Dessie left alone, poured herself out another cup of tea, 
 and then, a pleasant smile playing over her face sat down 
 and picked up a book that lay at hand. But instead of 
 opening it to read she let it lie on her lap, and leant back 
 thinking. 
 
 Life had been going smoothly enough with her for 
 some time past, and she had gradually pushed her way 
 forward into a position of independence. Two years at 
 Mrs. Barker's as drudge and governess had been an in- 
 valuable experience, drilling her into a condition of 
 chronic patience under indescribably galling stings and 
 provocation. Then a crisis had come through the utterly 
 base conduct of a man who had professed to love her, and 
 she had left her situation. 
 
 But the step had really turned out for her benefit. She 
 had previously succeeded in getting some few stories ac- 
 cepted for some of the minor novelettes and periodicals^
 
 24 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 and as at the time a longer tale had just been taken by one 
 of the big religious publishing houses, she .resolved to 
 plunge boldly into the sea of minor literature and news- 
 paper work, and trust to her own hands and brains for a 
 living, without being at the beck and call of a capricious, 
 narrow-minded and uncertain-tempered mistress. 
 
 It had been a hard fight, but she had won. She had a 
 natural knack of expressing her thoughts clearly, and as 
 those thoughts originated in a heart the instincts and 
 promptings of which were pure, sincere, religious, and 
 sanguine, she found people to read what she wrote. 
 
 The struggle had not been by any means won when 
 Tom Cheriton and she met, however. It happened 
 through some of her newspaper work ; and the two were 
 instantly attracted to each other. Then came the illness 
 to which they had referred a very ugly attack of typhus, 
 in which little Mrs. Dora Markham had saved Dessie's 
 life, by her own personal devoted nursing as well as 
 by the means which her wealth had enabled her to em- 
 ploy. In that way Mrs. Markham had bound the girl to 
 her by the bond of deep gratitude ; and it was this strong 
 affection which had set her thinking so seriously about 
 her friend's sudden engagement to a man of whom no 
 one had ever heard a w 7 ord, except that he was a sort of 
 half-Frenchman, half-Englishman, whom she had met 
 and fallen in love with at Ostend. Dessie was so happy in 
 the love of such a man as Tom Cheriton that she wished 
 Dora no better lot than a second marriage with a man as 
 worthy. But she was vaguely doubtful of and preju- 
 diced against the Count de Montalt. 
 
 After Cheriton left she sat thinking closely and ear- 
 nestly about it, when a telegram came from her friend. 
 " Am home. Come and see me at once. Want to intro^ 
 duce you this evening. Stay the night."
 
 The Prospect of Peril 25 
 
 Dessie was but a very few minutes making the neces- 
 sary preparations; and then she hurried away to South 
 Kensington, where the pretty young widow had a large 
 house in Edgecumbe-square. 
 
 The meeting was as cordial as it could be on both 
 sides, and Mrs. Markham, who was full to the brim with 
 one subject, overflowed instantly and poured out volumi- 
 nous chatter about her lover. 
 
 The description alone was enough to make Dessie un- 
 comfortable. He was said to be a " tall, noble-looking, 
 dark, gloriously handsome, and altogether splendid man, 
 with dark eyes that glowed with deep feeling and ten- 
 derness." Outside her own novelettes, she always asso- 
 ciated that type with the one man, Rolande Lespard, 
 whom she knew to be so desperate a villain. That one 
 man's appearance had prejudiced her against dark, hand- 
 some men as a class; and the description now strength- 
 ened her prejudice that this particular man was a fortune- 
 hunter. 
 
 She prepared herself, therefore, to dislike and suspect 
 him, and when the time came for his arrival " to be intro- 
 duced," she was half inclined to smile at herself for her 
 condition of somewhat eager critical intolerance and dis- 
 trust. 
 
 Little Mrs. Markham was very serious. 
 
 " I do hope you'll like him, Dessie. I can't see how 
 you can help it, but I do hope you will." This weakness 
 was very characteristic. The girl made some general 
 reply, and as she finished, the Count was announced. 
 
 Dora Markham blushed crimson, and went hurriedly 
 to him and laid her hands in his. He took them and 
 kissed them, as he smiled and looked very ardently into 
 her face. 
 
 Then they turned together to Dessie.
 
 26 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 She stood gripping the back of a chair and fighting for 
 calmness. 
 
 She had recognised him the instant her eyes fell on 
 him; and when, by a tremendous effort, she pulled her- 
 self together, and he came to her, smiling and self- 
 assured, holding out a hand to her, she knew him for 
 none other than the man against whom she had been 
 warned by her unknown friend. 
 
 He was Rolande Lespard.
 
 She stood gripping the back of a chair and fighting for calmness. 
 
 Page 26.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE COUNT DE MONTALT 
 
 THE dinner that followed Bessie's introduction to the 
 Count de Montalt was not a very pleasant function. The 
 three were alone, and not one of them was quite at ease. 
 While the servants remained in the room, they chatted 
 vapid commonplaces, and watched each other in the 
 pauses. Dora was nervous lest Dessie might not like 
 the Count; the Count was all curiosity and scrutiny to 
 know what terms he was to be on with a girl whom he 
 knew to have influence with the woman he was to marry ; 
 while Dessie herself was so unsettled by the shock of her 
 discovery that she could not be other than ill at ease. 
 
 The Count de Montalt was the least affected by the 
 position. He was a fluent talker, and as he had been in 
 many parts of the world, he had abundant material on 
 which to draw for conversation. He also dwelt with a 
 good deal of detail on the particulars of his estate in 
 France, the difficulty of management, the bad times for 
 landowners, the evils of Republicanism, and so on. 
 
 After a little time, Dessie began to feel her interest in 
 the man as a human problem overcoming her shock and 
 first shuddering dread; and she scrutinised him very 
 closely as he sat and talked. 
 
 He was certainly a strikingly handsome man. Tall 
 and broad and very erect, he had a military air in his car- 
 riage; while his regular and very powerful features all 
 Suggested great force of character. A man meant to bend 
 
 37
 
 28 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 others to his will, thought the girl. A remorseless and 
 untiring enemy, was her next conclusion; and a cruel, 
 relentless, and utterly unscrupulous villain, as she knew 
 from his history. 
 
 " You seem to know Europe pretty well," said Dessie, 
 when he had been speaking of some personal experiences 
 in Hungary and afterwards in Russia. " Are many lan- 
 guages as familiar to you as English ? " 
 
 " No, indeed I have only a sort of conversational smat- 
 tering of others German, Italian, Russ, and so on. But 
 I am half English; my mother was English, you know. 
 I know Europe because for years I have been a great 
 traveller in a small European sense. I am alone in the 
 world now at present, that is," and he raised his eyes 
 and smiled at Dora, who blushed. " I take my name 
 and title through my first wife, whom I had the mis- 
 fortune to lose within six months of my marrying her. 
 Not by death, but unfortunately by the failure of her men- 
 tal powers ; and till her death a happy release, of course, 
 for her I was more or less a wanderer on the face of 
 the earth." He managed to put into his voice and man- 
 ner an indescribable suggestion that though he had been 
 married, and his marriage had been a trouble at the time, 
 his heart had never been touched, but had remained virgin 
 for Dora to capture. 
 
 " And do you remain constant in your admiration of 
 our country's scenery? I am told that all Frenchmen 
 swear there is no scenery in the world like that of the 
 Lower Pyrenees, no land to be loved like that, no people 
 so picturesque as in the Pyrenees, and no quainter picture 
 on earth than one of the homesteads there. Do you 
 think so?" 
 
 A shade crossed his face at this question, and a glance 
 of passing anger lighted his eyes. It was in a Pyrenean
 
 The Count de Montalt 29 
 
 homestead that he had committed the murder of his old 
 relative, Duvivier. 
 
 " I have not been in the province of the Basses Pyrenees 
 since I was a child," he said. There was a tone in his 
 voice which seemed to warn his hearer away from the 
 subject; and Dessie noted the incident as a confirmation 
 of her belief in his identity, and as something to be re- 
 membered for future use. 
 
 " Ah, you have perhaps some associations in connection 
 with the district that are painful. That is so with child- 
 hood sometimes, and is often found, I know, in old fami- 
 lies." He bit his lip at this, but smiled to hide it, as the 
 girl continued. " Dora has told you, of course, that I am 
 a writer, a journalist, a newspaper woman or whatever 
 people like to call us and that makes one always curious 
 for odd bits of human nature, you know, like prejudices 
 and fancies, likes and dislikes. I have never met before 
 with a prejudice against a whole province I must con- 
 fess. I've known people dislike towns, particular houses, 
 and sometimes a whole county or the people in it. But 
 that is generally personal. Either they have done some- 
 thing in the place or had something done to them by the 
 people a prejudice with a personal foundation." She 
 smiled as she made this thrust, and seeing his discom- 
 fiture, she harped on the subject of the country of the 
 Pyrenees and his prejudice against it until the man's an- 
 ger showed so plainly in his face that Dessie feared her 
 friend would see it and be either annoyed or grieved ; and 
 then she turned the conversation. But she had learnt 
 something from it. 
 
 In this way the dinner passed, and as the Count did 
 not wish to stay and smoke by himself, the three went to 
 the drawing-room together. 
 
 There Mrs. Markham played and sang. She had a
 
 go The Heritage of Peril 
 
 weak sweet soprano of limited range, and warbled little 
 songs with a lot of love in them ; and to-night being very 
 sentimental, she put unusual feeling into the singing and 
 made the Count sit close by her side. 
 
 Dessie sat back and watched ; and more than once she 
 saw expressions cross the dark, handsome, strong face of 
 the man, seeming to reflect brooding thoughts, which 
 might have been raised by her thrusts at the dinner table. 
 
 Her imagination was morbidly busy as she sat and 
 watched him, sitting close to the woman he was deliber- 
 ately deceiving ; and on his face, held as it was a little in 
 the shadow of the soft lamplight, Dessie pictured a smile 
 of cynical triumph, at the ease with which he had found 
 and won this last victim, and of contempt for that side of 
 Dora's character which alone he could have seen. 
 
 The qualities which counterbalanced the little surface 
 vanities of the widow would be sealed fountains to him. 
 He could not appreciate her real love of truth for truth's 
 sake; her ready devotion in nursing Dessie through her 
 illness ; her instinctive impulses to use her money to stay 
 any plea of want and misery. These things to such a 
 man would be but so many proofs that a woman was weak 
 and a fool. They might almost give him cause for a 
 chuckle that they made her the readier dupe for him, and 
 promised him an easier life with her in the future. And 
 as the girl thought this her cheek flushed with anger and 
 indignation. 
 
 Then another fancy took possession of her. As she 
 gazed intently at the man's hard, clear profile, and 
 thought of his past as it was known to her, the room 
 seemed to fade, the jingle of the piano died away, and the 
 scene changed to the low-roofed kitchen-parlour of a 
 Pyrenean homestead. The hard, grim face was still the 
 central figure, a look of keen murderous determination
 
 The Count de Montalt 31 
 
 lighting the eyes, which were fixed on the face of a 
 second figure in the square room that of an old and 
 feeble man asleep on a high-backed wooden settle, by the 
 side of the broad hearth, where a log was alternately 
 smouldering and bursting into thin, licking tongues of 
 flame. 
 
 The old man's slumber was accompanied by heavy 
 guttural breathing and wheezing gasps, with an occa- 
 sional snore, as the head got into an uncomfortable posi- 
 tion. And at every sound, denoting that the man's sleep 
 was getting deeper, the dark, heavy face of the watcher 
 across the hearth seemed to grow more set and pitiless, 
 as though some half-formed but wholly deadly purpose 
 was ripening into instant resolve. 
 
 Presently the watcher rose stealthily from his chair, 
 and moving slowly and silently across the floor, stood 
 by the sleeper, and bending down, looked intently into the 
 white, rugged, deeply-lined, old face. Then he touched 
 a hand, lifted it, and let it fall. It was nerveless and 
 limp; but the jerk made the sleeper stir uneasily, and 
 draw a breath deeper and longer than usual. 
 
 The man by his side stood as still as death itself. 
 
 Then, after a pause, he put his own hand, with infinite 
 care and deftness of touch, into the other's pocket, and 
 took out a key. He looked at it in the leap of a fire 
 flame, and turned and stole with silent steps from the 
 room. 
 
 Soon he was back again, holding a paper which he had 
 evidently fetched from some locked place of which he had 
 taken the key. 
 
 It was a will, and holding it near the fire he read it by 
 the light of the leaping tongues of uncertain flame. What 
 he read angered him, and his eyes seemed to grow red and 
 bloodshot with passion, while the even, regular, comely
 
 32 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 features looked evil and venomous as he glanced from the 
 paper to the sleeper. 
 
 Then he went again from the room and after a time 
 returned, this time carrying a bundle of small papers and 
 a bag. The bag he unfastened. It contained gold coins. 
 Among the papers was a large bundle of soiled bank 
 notes. These and the bag he put on the table, and then 
 after a hurried search among the other papers he went 
 away, for the third time, and returned with the key in his 
 hand. His face now wore a devil's smile. 
 
 He made no attempt to put the key back, but crept 
 with quite silent tread to the settle. Next he poured the 
 contents of a small bottle into a teacup, putting the bottle 
 back in his pocket. From a shelf by the side of the hearth 
 he took a large medicine bottle, from which he poured 
 some of the dark contents into the cup, and clinking 
 the bottle and cup together, as if clumsily, he put his 
 hand on the old man's shoulder and shook him. 
 
 " Uncle, uncle, here's your medicine," he cried, holding 
 the big bottle so that the flickering flame fell on it. 
 
 The old man moved sleepily, mumbled some incoherent 
 words, stretched out his arms stiffly, and opening his eyes 
 lazily swore at the other for having woke him. He was 
 as evil-looking as his companion a wizened, cunning, 
 animal face, all cruelty, greed and hardness. He looked 
 hideous as, half asleep, he held out his hand for the medi- 
 cine. He took it, drank it off at a gulp, started, made a 
 wry face, oathed again, swore that it was nastier than 
 ever, and settled himself down to renew his broken 
 nap. 
 
 In another minute he was asleep again. 
 
 The dark, glittering eyes had never left his face for a 
 moment, and the younger man, seemingly so passive, had 
 been all vigilance, ready to pounce on his victim and
 
 " He'll be dead in an hour by nine, say." 
 
 Page 33.
 
 The Count de Montalt 
 
 33 
 
 finish the work by violence if he showed the least sign of 
 resistance. 
 
 As the old man let his head fall again in sleep his 
 companion smiled and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. 
 He first examined the cup to see that it was empty, smelt 
 it, smiling more broadly than ever as he did so, and then, 
 having washed it out with water, smashed it and put the 
 pieces into his pocket. He next took another cup of just 
 the same pattern, poured into it a dose of the medicine, 
 threw half of it into the fire, and drank the remainder, 
 putting down the empty cup close by the old man's hand. 
 Then he put the key back in the sleeper's pocket, but 
 without care, knowing there was no fear of any awaken- 
 ing. That done, he bent over the old man, listened to his 
 breathing, which was now much more stertorous than 
 before, and then he craned up his head to see the time 
 by the little clock that stood on the mantelshelf, shaded 
 from the firelight. 
 
 " He'll be dead in an hour by nine, say. I must get 
 back about then." And with that he swept the money 
 into his pocket, and went away, leaving the sleeper alone 
 to breathe out his remaining life in the stertorous gasps 
 which were growing more and more irregular every 
 moment, while the leaping shadows that danced on wall 
 and ceiling were shooting up in long, grotesque, fantastic, 
 ghoulish shapes, and stretching out their hands, as if al- 
 ready claiming the doomed man for shadowland. 
 
 Stillness brooded in the room, broken only by the 
 choking, heavy breathing of the fast dying man. 
 
 About an hour later, the sounds of footsteps and voices 
 and laughter were heard outside the homestead. 
 Amongst them were the deep tones of the man who had 
 left the place recently. He was laughing and joking and 
 rallying his two companions. The three entered with
 
 34 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 the laughter on their lips evoked by the jest of the dark 
 man. 
 
 He came into the chamber of death with a swagger and 
 an oath. 
 
 Then, as if catching sight of the figure on the settle, 
 he stopped his laughter and cried, 
 
 " Hullo, here's my uncle asleep. I couldn't think where 
 the deuce he'd got to. Uncle, here are Ambroise and 
 Giraud. I've walked from Asson, and am about as hun- 
 gry as the Why," he stopped and made a big demon- 
 stration of excitement, " what's the matter ? Here, Am- 
 broise, Giraud, my dear old uncle's ill. Look, look. My 
 God he's dead. Died in his sleep. That's what the doctor 
 always said would happen. Oh, my uncle, my uncle," 
 and, with a burst of emotion, he threw himself on his 
 knees. 
 
 At that instant a loud crash of music chords startled 
 the girl, and brought her back from her picture dream 
 of the cowardly crime which she knew had been com- 
 mitted by the man who had now risen, and was coming 
 to her to shake hands, and bid her good night. 
 
 The touch of his flesh made her cringe and shudder, 
 and the room seemed lighter and purer the instant he had 
 passed out of it. 
 
 Then, moved by an impulse, Dessie put her arms round 
 her friend's waist, and holding her as though shielding 
 her from the attack which she knew this villain was plan- 
 ning against her happiness, and perhaps against her life, 
 she kissed her passionately and almost fiercely, over and 
 over again. 
 
 And as she did it she vowed to herself that she would 
 indeed step in between the man and his intended victim, 
 let the cost to herself be what it might. 
 
 The next instant she was listening to Mrs. Mark-
 
 The Count de Montalt 35 
 
 ham's protest against her strange action, and then to the 
 pleased, proud and eager questions whether she did not 
 think the Count was all that a gallant, noble, handsome 
 man should be.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "YOU ARE ROLANDE LESPARD " 
 
 THE two friends sat talking together for a long time 
 after the Count had left, and Dessie found it difficult to 
 evade the questions which the infatuated little widow 
 poured upon her. 
 
 " I want to know more about him, Dora," said the 
 girl more than once. " Who he is, what he is, what he has 
 done, what sort of a life he has lived." 
 
 Mrs. Markham shrugged her shoulders, and tossed her 
 head with a gesture of impatience. She was of a fair 
 haired, small featured, large eyed, doll-like type of 
 woman ; small and pretty, but too conscious of her good 
 looks, and very disposed to be playful and kittenish. 
 Altogether impatient of contradiction and control, she 
 was apt to do any mad thing in a moment of impulse. 
 She was a little afraid of Bessie's quiet, penetrating, self- 
 strong manner; and while most anxious to have her 
 genuine opinion of the Count, inclined to be irritable and 
 peevish because that opinion was not as enthusiastic as 
 her own. 
 
 " I thought you could read people so quickly," she an- 
 swered, rather testily. " What more can you want to 
 know ? Do you suppose I can't trust my own instincts ? " 
 
 " If it was a matter of giving a five or a ten pound note 
 to some charity on the strength of his recommendation, 
 I should say by all means follow your impulse. But when 
 it comes to giving this " she took her friend's hand and 
 
 36
 
 "You are Rolande Lespard" 37 
 
 pressed it and smiled " I won't trust anyone's instincts. 
 I'm like my Tom ; I want facts." 
 
 Mrs. Markham withdrew her hand and frowned. 
 
 " If I can't trust my own heart I can trust nothing," 
 she said. " I can't for the life of me understand how 
 you can have a lingering shade of doubt, when once you've 
 looked into Godefroi's eyes. Did you look searchingly 
 into them ? " 
 
 " Men don't carry their characters written on their 
 faces, dear." 
 
 " If you can't go by a man's eyes, what can you go by ? 
 Do you want to know his acts ? Well, don't I know them ? 
 Hasn't he shown himself the kindest, dearest, gentlest, 
 and most thoughtful being in the world? Why on earth 
 do you you of all others in the world want to set me 
 against him? " 
 
 " My dear Dora, I haven't tried to set you against 
 him," cried Dessie. " If he is the man you believe him, 
 then there is nothing in the world would please me more 
 than that you should be his wife." 
 
 Mrs. Markham was silenced for a moment, but a move- 
 ment of her shoulders showed her vexation. 
 
 " ' If he's the man I believe him,' " she repeated. 
 " What does that mean ? Oh, I suppose you think it's 
 the money that attracts him. I hate the money. I wish 
 I hadn't any. It only makes one suspect everybody about 
 one. Either they are rushing after it for themselves or 
 they want to keep others from sharing it. I wish I was 
 poor," and a tear of anger glistened for a moment in her 
 light blue eyes. 
 
 " You are very ridiculous, Dora," said Dessie quietly, 
 " and if I didn't know that in your heart you do not for 
 a moment believe me capable of being in your second 
 category, I'd walk out of your house and never enter it
 
 38 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 again. In word, you have just accused me impliedly of 
 trying to set you against the Count in order to keep him 
 from sharing your money. If I could do that, I should be 
 just the meanest thing on earth." 
 
 " I didn't mean that at all," said the widow, weakly 
 and half-tearfully ; the girl's quiet resolution and plain 
 speech rather frightened her. " I know you're as true a 
 friend as anyone can be. But but it's so disappointing 
 when you go and make up your mind not to like someone 
 I like and want you to like." 
 
 " I haven't even told you I don't like him, dear." 
 
 " No, but I can see it easily enough, although you do 
 think my instincts are not quick and true, and that I'm 
 blind and silly and and everything. I declare it makes 
 me wish I hadn't come home. And I thought you'd be 
 so pleased." The tone of her voice was beginning to sug- 
 gest tears; and Dessie noticing it, said with real feel- 
 ing: 
 
 " Nothing will please me more than your real happi- 
 ness, Dora. I'll do anything I can to secure it for you. 
 But do just think what you're asking me. You want me 
 in cold blood to take the same view as you do of the man 
 you love passionately. Do you think as I do about my 
 Tom?" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Cheriton's different," said the widow, as if 
 repudiating the idea of a comparison between the two 
 men. 
 
 " Ought not to be mentioned in the same breath, eh ? " 
 asked Dessie, laughing. " Well, how can I be more en- 
 thusiastic and less critical of your lover than you are of 
 mine?" 
 
 Mrs. Markham paused a moment, and then said, a lit- 
 tle triumphantly. 
 
 " But I've never said a word against Mr. Cheriton,
 
 "You are Rolande Lespard" 39 
 
 and I like him immensely. Why then do you do so 
 against the Count ? " 
 
 " There has never been any question who and what 
 Tom is. I don't know a word about the Count." 
 
 " But one doesn't always wait to know all the ins and 
 outs of a person's life in order to like them. Why, if it 
 comes to that, I know nothing about you and there's no 
 doubt about my loving you, is there ? " 
 
 " You and I are not going to be man and wife ; and if 
 we disagreed we could part ; but if you were going to put 
 yourself and your happiness, everything, into my charge, 
 you'd want to know everything." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, Dessie. I'd trust you to-morrow with 
 every penny piece I have in the world, and give you un- 
 limited power to do with me just what you please. When 
 I trust, I trust wholly." 
 
 Dessie w r as silenced at this. She kissed her companion 
 without adding a word; and for the moment the subject 
 was dropped. But after they had gone upstairs to bed, 
 Dessie went into her companion's room for a last few 
 words. 
 
 " Dora, if I seem in any way unbendable in this thing, 
 remember it is only my love for you that makes me urge 
 you to open your eyes to other things beside mere looks 
 and love. Sit here a bit; I'll tell you a passage of my 
 own life, to show you why I don't trust every man as I 
 do my Tom." 
 
 Mrs. Markham pushed a low stool to her companion's 
 side, and sat with her head resting on Dessie's lap, the 
 girl's fingers playing with her hair as she spoke. 
 
 " Three or four years ago, I was governess in a very 
 disagreeable family, and the conditions of life were such 
 that the place was almost unendurable. Then I met a 
 man we'll call him L , who made much of me, and in
 
 40 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 his way, fell headlong in love. I did not love him: I 
 didn't think then I should ever love anyone: And when 
 he asked me to marry him, I refused. He asked me 
 again, and I refused: And then, when he pressed me a 
 third time, I told him the truth that I didn't love him, 
 but, if he would be contented with that, I would marry 
 him. He vowed he was more than delighted, and we 
 were engaged. I am bound to say he did everything in 
 his power to prove how great his love was." 
 
 " Was he young or old ? " 
 
 " Young, dear ; and good-looking, and as looks go, such 
 a man as a girl might be proud to be engaged to. He 
 was pretty well off, too, and gave me rich presents. Well, 
 there are certain things in my past life nothing that is 
 any disgrace to me, thank God but still things which the 
 man I was to marry ought to know. I told him, therefore, 
 and while he thanked me for telling him, he said they 
 made no difference to him." 
 
 " He was a good man, Dessie." 
 
 " Yes, so I thought, and I was more nearly in love with 
 him then than at any other time. I could have loved him, 
 but just at that time a most unexpected thing happened. 
 In two months no less than four people who stood be- 
 tween him and a baronetcy died ; and from being a man 
 with a fairly good income, looked up to in his little chapel 
 set, he became a baronet with a big income. The change 
 was more than his moderate brain could endure without 
 reeling. His engagement to me galled and fretted him ; 
 and I saw him tugging at the chain. I offered to release 
 him; and then he showed how really weak he was. He 
 was still in love with me more in love than ever, I think, 
 because he had brought himself to believe there was a 
 barrier of caste between us, but he fell away so fast mor- 
 ally that I began to despise him. I wrote and told him
 
 " You are Rolande Lespard " 41 
 
 that I would not marry him, and it was when lie answered 
 the letter in person I shall never forget the interview 
 that I learnt at first hand how utterly base and con- 
 temptible a thing a man may be." 
 
 She paused a moment, and Dora murmured a word of 
 sympathy. 
 
 " I want no sympathy, Dora," she said, quickly. " It 
 was a lucky escape. This mean hound threw in my face 
 what I had told him ; and declared that, as he was now a 
 public man, it must separate us. But he still loved me, 
 he said, and declared that his fortune was at my disposal 
 if you can guess what he said. My blood is hot now as 
 I think of it. You can guess, too, the answer I made. 
 But that is not the worst, nor anything like the worst. 
 The coward went to the woman in whose house I was 
 governess, and telling her what I had told him in all 
 honourable confidence got me dismissed at a moment's 
 notice, thrown on to the streets to shift for myself, in 
 order that, as he thought, I might be compelled through 
 want to submit to his vile proposals." 
 
 Her companion drew in a quick breath of pain. 
 
 " That is man, dear ! " said Dessie, bitterly. " And that 
 is why I urge you to trust no man till you have tested 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Markham got up from her stool, and put her arms 
 round the girl. She was full of pity for her friend, but 
 she saw no connection between that man's scoundrelism 
 and her own lover. The thought was absurd. 
 
 " Poor Dessie ! What an experience and what an es- 
 cape," she said. " But my Godefroi would never act like 
 that." 
 
 Dessie smiled in disappointment, and the smile had not 
 died out of her face and eyes when her companion kissed 
 her again, and they bade each other good night.
 
 42 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Bessie went to her room filled with fear lest her friend's 
 infatuation and impulsiveness should end in trouble ; and 
 before she fell asleep she resolved on one step to speak 
 openly to the man who called himself the Count de 
 Montalt, and let him see that she knew his true char- 
 acter. 
 
 The opportunity came a little sooner than she had in- 
 tended. Her plan, as she thought it out during the night, 
 was to tell Tom something of what she knew, and then 
 with him to face the Count together. But events hurried 
 her forward. 
 
 The next day Mrs. Markham was not very well, and 
 did not get up to breakfast. The Count called early and 
 Dessie went down to see him. As she left the room Mrs. 
 Markham said with a smile that it " would lead the two 
 to a better understanding if they saw something of each 
 other alone." There was much more truth in this than 
 she anticipated. 
 
 Dessie had been willing, for her friend's sake, to play 
 a part the night before and meet the Count on terms of 
 apparent friendship ; but it was a different thing when the 
 two were alone, and after she herself had determined on 
 a course of complete frankness. 
 
 She had thought out carefully the line that should be 
 taken. She wished to spare her friend in every possible 
 way : The blow to her heart would not be less than that 
 to her self-respect in the knowledge that she had been 
 duped by such a man. But it was essential that the reve- 
 lation of the scoundrel's true character should be com- 
 plete, or the little widow's weakness and infatuation 
 might allow of his continuing to exercise great influence 
 upon her. 
 
 Bessie's heart beat a little faster than usual, as she 
 went down the broad staircase to the morning room, into
 
 "You are Rolande Lespard" 43 
 
 which the visitor had been shown ; but outwardly she was 
 calm enough and apparently self-possessed. To test her 
 steadiness she paused outside the room, and held up her 
 hand to see if it trembled at all. It did a little. 
 
 " I might be a child going to be slapped," she thought. 
 
 The Count was standing in the deep bay window, look- 
 ing out on the square garden, congratulating himself upon 
 the size and magnificence of the house and the wealth of 
 the owner which it evidenced; but he turned quickly 
 when he heard the door open, and Dessie saw the look of 
 pleasure, which he had put on to greet Dora, change to 
 one of surprise and inquiry. 
 
 He came hurrying towards her with the same over- 
 acted politeness which had impressed her so unfavourably 
 on the previous evening. 
 
 She had to deal the first blow. Now that they were 
 alone, no consideration on earth could make her touch 
 his hand. 
 
 He came toward her with it extended, his face express- 
 ing a sort of smiling anxiety as to the cause of Mrs. 
 Markham's absence. 
 
 " I trust dear Mrs. Markham is well as well as I hope 
 you are, Miss Merrion. Pray tell me." Then with a 
 quiet change of voice and manner, he added, " You did 
 not see my hand, I think, Miss Merrion, excuse me," 
 and he held it out in front of her, and looked straight 
 into her face. 
 
 She returned his look quite resolutely, and with a mo- 
 tion of the hand toward a chair, she replied 
 
 " Mrs. Markham has nothing more serious the matter 
 with her than a slight headache. You need have no 
 anxiety on her account whatever. She rather wished me, 
 indeed, to come and see you alone, thinking that perhaps 
 we should get to understand one another better if we were
 
 44 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 alone. I think so too," she added, after a pause for em- 
 phasis, eyeing him steadily. 
 
 " My dear Miss Merrion, I am more than charmed," 
 he answered, effusively. " My dear Dora's friends must 
 be my friends or they could not be hers, of course." He 
 made his meaning clear with a glance. 
 
 " Naturally," assented the girl. " I quite understand 
 that." 
 
 " But I do not think I quite understand the position," 
 he answered. " Pardon me if I ask you to explain it to 
 me a little more clearly. I have heard so much of you 
 and all in your praise. I came to London expecting and 
 hoping to find you, if only half as good as you had been 
 described, yet still the best possible of friends for my 
 Dora, and, if I may say so, for myself. I came here last 
 night; I had the infinite honour of an introduction to 
 you. We had a pleasant dinner, a quiet evening, an hour 
 of friendly companionship. We parted in the best vein 
 of friendship, apparently. I arranged to call early this 
 morning. I call. I do not see my Dora, my future wife ; 
 but instead, you receive me; and when I offer you my 
 hand, hoping the relations of last evening are to continue, 
 you will not take it ; and instead, you say you have come 
 down to have an understanding. Is it a surprise that I 
 ask myself what does this mean? What is it? Who is 
 this charming young lady that meets me ? What is it she 
 wishes ? " 
 
 He paused, threw his hands and shoulders up, and as- 
 sumed a look of greatly injured innocence. 
 
 Dessie had been thinking quickly while he spoke, and 
 now paused a moment before replying. When she an- 
 swered it was with a clear, crisp emphasis that made 
 every word tell. 
 
 " The meaning is this. I want to know why you have
 
 "You are Rolande Lespard" 45 
 
 imposed on my friend as the Count de Montalt, when in 
 fact you are Rolande Lespard, the murderer of your 
 uncle, old Paul Duvivier ? " 
 
 The man sprang to his feet in astonishment and ob- 
 vious terror. His face went white, and for a full minute 
 he was speechless, staring at the girl like a man out of 
 his senses. Then he sat down again, and strove to regain 
 his self-possession. It was a long fight, and when at 
 length he managed to gasp out 
 
 " It is a lie, Mon Dieu ! a tremendous, villainous, awful 
 lie ! " his voice had lost all the ring of strength and depth 
 that had seemed to suggest so much force and power. 
 
 And during the whole time, Dessie remained looking 
 calmly and steadily at him, watching him without saying 
 a word.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A BRIBE 
 
 THE success of Bessie's stroke lay in its suddenness. 
 At a moment when the man was congratulating himself 
 on his extraordinary good fortune in having won the 
 love of a rich woman who trusted him so absolutely that 
 she did not think it worth while to make the slightest in- 
 quiry about him, the girl had stepped in to break down 
 everything. 
 
 His rage and chagrin added to his confusion, and it was 
 a long time before he could recover himself sufficiently to 
 think connectedly over the position. 
 
 He had often had this friend of Dora's in his thoughts ; 
 and gauging her by his own standards, he had calculated 
 that she would probably turn out to be no more than a 
 harpy, who might resent the rich woman passing out of 
 her hands and into his own. He had guessed that he 
 would in all probability be able to buy over this opposition 
 at a price ; and had always looked forward to having to do 
 something of the kind. 
 
 But this belief was only a faint one now, as he looked 
 into the resolute little face of his accuser, whose eyes were 
 fixed on him with an expression of such sturdy resolution 
 that he felt he could have strangled her. 
 
 How could she have got her knowledge of him ? 
 
 There was not a detective in London who would have 
 recognised him in that character ; scarcely one in all Eng- 
 land ; and yet this weak chit of a girl had known him at 
 
 46
 
 A Bribe 47 
 
 a glance. More than that, she had been shrewd enough 
 to use her knowledge dexterously enough to outwit him 
 and cause him to behave like a nervous fool. He had thus 
 made contradiction more than difficult ; yet it was his only 
 course. 
 
 " You must excuse my illness," he said, when at length 
 he regained self-possession, speaking as in a voice of pain 
 and weakness. " I am subject to these attacks they are 
 at my heart when agitated or excited. In the moment, 
 I was so angered by your words ; perhaps not unjustifiably 
 angered, you will allow; and for the moment my heart 
 threatened me. Now I am myself again : My illness has 
 passed. I pray you to excuse me if I have caused you any 
 uneasiness." 
 
 " You did not," returned Dessie, cuttingly. " I thor- 
 oughly understood the nature of the attack." 
 
 " A mistake such as you have made, Miss Merrion, 
 would excite anyone. If it had been made, and the 
 slander uttered by a man, it might have cost him his 
 life." 
 
 " By poison do you mean ? I should not be surprised 
 if you had the opportunity." 
 
 " I do not understand your reference. If you " 
 
 " I will explain," interrupted Dessie. " It was poison 
 you used to murder M. Duvivier. That is what I mean." 
 But he was not a man to be taken twice off his guard. 
 
 " I have had the pleasure of meeting you only once 
 before to-day ; and I am at a complete loss to understand, 
 therefore, what motive you can possibly have in making 
 this extraordinary mistake in regard to me. Perhaps you 
 will tell me." 
 
 " It is no mistake. My motive is defence of my friend 
 from a man I consider so dangerous as yourself." 
 
 " Well, I can only assure you that you are labouring
 
 48 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 under an extraordinary delusion; and I know no more 
 than this chair how you come to associate me with the 
 wretch whose name you mentioned just now Lespard." 
 
 " You mean you want to know how I recognise you," 
 said Dessie, with direct logic. " That is my business. It 
 is enough that I do recognise you and intend to use my 
 knowledge." 
 
 " You speak rather in riddles, Miss Merrion. I pre- 
 sume you mean by using your knowledge that you intend 
 to try and separate Mrs. Markham and me for some pur- 
 poses of your own. You will not find it an easy task to 
 persuade her to believe what is an untrue charge against 
 me, which I shall not have the slightest difficulty in meet- 
 ing at any time and in any way she may wish. The posi- 
 tion of anyone who has falsely accused me will not be a 
 very agreeable one then in her opinion." 
 
 " You mean I shall forfeit her friendship if I cannot 
 make my words good. Yes; that is exceedingly prob- 
 able." 
 
 " I am not a vindictive man, Miss Merrion. I do not 
 wish that Dora should lose a friend who is so staunch 
 as you evidently are, since your staunchness for her leads 
 you to take a step of this shall I say, hazardous kind? I 
 assure you on my honour as a gentleman that you are 
 profoundly and absolutely mistaken. I pledge you my 
 word, further, to give you any proof of your mistake that 
 you, or anyone acting with you, like to ask for. More 
 than that, I will bear no grudge whatever for the mistake 
 I will set it down to that chivalrous goodness of heart 
 which is constantly impelling people to make the strangest 
 errors. But I do not wish that Dora should be distressed 
 and pained and shocked by hearing that I, her affianced 
 husband, have been thus accused ; and that you, her dear- 
 est friend, have made so vile a charge."
 
 A Bribe 49 
 
 "What is your object in that?" said Dessie, rather 
 thinking aloud than putting a question. But he took it 
 up readily and answered promptly. 
 
 " I have no object except to satisfy you of your error; 
 and to save you from the humiliation of having your 
 strange delusion exposed." He paused a moment and 
 then added : " I am not mistaken, I think, in saying you 
 are engaged to be married to a barrister, Mr. Cheriton, 
 is it not ? Well, I suggest to you to tell him. I will ac- 
 company you, if you like ; and then he can name the best 
 and readiest means of proving to you my identity. Were 
 I in France, I could offer you five hundred proofs in an 
 hour; but here " He stopped and shrugged his shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 Dessie looked at him steadily, as if to try and read his 
 motive; but he met her gaze without flinching, and .vith 
 a calm assurance that baffled her. 
 
 " I need no proof of your identity. I know you," she 
 said, firmly. 
 
 " May I ask on what ground you base this most strange 
 belief ? What has caused it ? " 
 
 " No. You may not. At least I cannot answer. It is 
 enough that I know it." 
 
 He knitted his thick brows a moment in thought and 
 then got up from his chair and said in a sterner and more 
 forceful tone than he had yet used : 
 
 " Well, Miss Merrion, I have done my best to save you 
 from the unpleasant consequences of your own extraor- 
 dinary blunder. I have resolutely kept in check my 
 natural resentment. But I can do no more. I have 
 offered to convince you privately of your unwarrantable 
 blunder; and you must accept the consequences of your 
 refusal. You must take what course you please. For 
 my part, I shall see Mrs. Markham at once, and tell her
 
 50 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 what you have said. Will you be good enough to have a 
 message sent to her that I desire to see her at once on 
 urgent business, or shall I ring for a servant ? " 
 
 He walked towards the bell as he spoke, and laid his 
 hand on it. 
 
 His assurance made Dessie waver. Was it possible that 
 she was mistaken ? Fifty stories of curious and wonder- 
 ful resemblances flashed across her thoughts. Ought she 
 not to make quite sure before speaking? 
 
 He was watching her closely, and noted her indeci- 
 sion. 
 
 " Come, come, Miss Merrion, we have carried this farce 
 far enough. Will you send the message to Mrs. Mark- 
 ham, or shall I ? " 
 
 She frowned in her dilemma. A moment later he said 
 firmly : 
 
 " I will wait no longer," and with that he rang the bell 
 sharply. 
 
 " You will give me these proofs ? " she asked, quickly. 
 
 " You have refused them. I prefer my way now," 
 he answered, abruptly. " These things are better faced 
 at once." 
 
 " I will accept your offer of the proofs, if you like," 
 said Dessie, almost as the door opened, painfully conscious 
 of the weakness implied in the concession. 
 
 " As you will then," answered the man with a bow and 
 a flash of triumph ; " but it is only at your request I con- 
 sent now, and for your sake." 
 
 Then the servant opened the door. 
 
 fl There is nothing wanted, the bell was rung in mis- 
 take," said Dessie. The servant bowed and withdrew, 
 and then the Count turned calmly to Dessie and said: 
 
 " And what now do you propose to do ? " 
 
 Dessie's momentary indecision was destined to cost her
 
 A Bribe 51 
 
 dear. At first she could not make up her mind what 
 course to pursue ; but her lover came into her thoughts. 
 
 " You mentioned Mr. Cheriton's name," she said, and 
 then stopped abruptly. She was about to propose going to 
 him, when it occurred to her that if they went she must 
 tell Tom in this man's presence all that she knew about 
 him, and how she had come to recognise him. But that 
 would open up such a wide, new field of investigation into 
 her own past, that it startled her. She had yet to tell 
 Tom her past life, and preferred to do that in her own 
 way and at her own time. Moreover, she was quite un- 
 willing to let the man, who was now eyeing her so in- 
 tently and with such a threatening expression, learn that 
 she was the girl for whom he was seeking, and to whom 
 the jewels had been passed on. 
 
 Her companion could not help seeing her hesitation, 
 and was shrewd enough to presume upon it. A moment 
 after she had mentioned Tom Cheriton's name and he 
 saw her hesitation, he jumped to his feet with a gesture 
 of energy and said : 
 
 " Nothing will suit me so well. Permit that I send at 
 once for a cab, and we will go together to his chambers 
 and lay the facts before him. It is better for your sake 
 that this mistake of yours should not go beyond the nar- 
 rowest circle. Will you get ready at once ? " 
 
 Dessie bit her lip in mortification. He was playing a 
 part. She knew that well enough, and believed that he 
 guessed she knew it. But the chance of the moment was 
 against her, and she was unable to accept the very test 
 which a few minutes before she herself had proposed. 
 
 " I shall take my own time and means to prove the 
 truth of what I have said," she answered; and a feeble 
 reply it was, despite the firm, sharp tone in which she 
 spoke.
 
 $2 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 At this the Count threw himself down in his chair 
 again, and tossed up his hands with a gesture of surprise 
 and protest as if at a loss to understand her conduct. 
 
 " Really, Miss Merrion, I put it to you whether you are 
 not asking too much of me. You make this most hideous 
 accusation against me; I deny it and propose a means of 
 testing it privately; you first reject then accept the test, 
 and then reject it again; and now you ask me to allow 
 myself to lie quietly under a foul suspicion of this kind 
 for an indefinite period while you take your own time to 
 satisfy yourself that you have made an egregious blunder. 
 I will do much, very much, for a friend of my Dora's 
 but do not you yourself think that this is asking too much ? 
 I am bound, in defence of my own honour, to request that 
 you allow me to satisfy you at once of your mistake. I 
 will propose another test. If you have private reasons 
 for not exposing to your to Mr. Cheriton the reasons 
 of your supposed acquaintance with this murderer, this 
 Lesparde these reasons which enable you to think you 
 recognise him in me then let us take another course." 
 There was a suggestion of threat in this, and Dessie 
 winced at it, as the man paused to give it expression be- 
 fore continuing. " Let us go together quietly, you and I 
 alone, to Scotland Yard. There will be men there who 
 will probably know quite well what has become of this 
 man you seem to know, this Lesparde; and they will be 
 able to at once point you out the mistake." 
 
 His eyes were rivetted on hers as he put this daring 
 proposal made with a double object: To seem absolutely 
 sincere in his innocence, and to ascertain whether the 
 reasons which kept Dessie from telling her lover would 
 also keep her from telling the police and when he saw 
 her wince, he got up again with the same assumed readi- 
 ness to start at once.
 
 A Bribe 53 
 
 But a moment's rapid consideration sufficed to let the 
 girl's quick wits see that though there were reasons why 
 she would be unwise to go to the police with her story, 
 it was absolutely impossible for him to go. It was a 
 piece of bluff in which she felt she would be quite safe 
 in out-bidding him. She sat silent a moment as if con- 
 sidering the suggestion, and then rising, said deliber- 
 ately : 
 
 " That seems to be a proof that would be conclusive ; 
 and, as you say, it can be obtained quite privately by us 
 two alone. I will accept the offer. I will go and put on 
 my hat, and will accompany you without loss of time. 
 I quite see that it is unfair for me to leave this matter 
 unprobed a minute longer than necessary." 
 
 " Certainly," he assented, without changing a muscle of 
 his face ; and he held the door open for her as she left the 
 room to get ready. She was astonished and shaken by 
 this ; but she was not absent many minutes, and when she 
 returned she found him ready with an excuse to flinch 
 from the visit to the police. 
 
 " Something has recurred to me ; and I fear it will be 
 inexpedient for me to make this visit. A minute's re- 
 flection has caused me to take a much graver view of the 
 matter. So much hangs upon the result to me that I 
 cannot consent to keep it private merely to yourself and 
 myself. Besides, when you come to think of it, it would 
 be ridiculous to walk into Scotland Yard and say, ' This 
 young lady thinks I am a French murderer; please con- 
 vince her I am nothing of the kind.' They would laugh 
 at us both and send us packing about our business to go 
 and verify my identification in a proper way." 
 
 " I knew you didn't mean to go, even when you pro- 
 posed it," said Dessie, curtly. " But your reason is not 
 what you say, and you know that perfectly well."
 
 54 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " You make full use of your woman's privilege to say 
 things a man dare not say," said her antagonist, angry 
 because of the defeat. " I trust you will be as generous 
 with your apologies when you know the truth as you have 
 been with your sneers now." 
 
 " I know the truth already," retorted Bessie, sharply. 
 
 " Well, will you be good enough now to say what you 
 propose to do? I have some engagements, but I am re- 
 turning to this house again this afternoon. I am dining 
 here again with Mrs. Markham. I shall then tell her what 
 you have said, unless, indeed and this will be the best 
 course you tell me how this strange idea originated. I 
 can then, perhaps, dust away the whole cobweb." 
 
 " The knowledge is based on my own recognition of 
 you. I myself know you to be the man I say." 
 
 " Is that the whole extent of your belief ? A mistake in 
 identity?" 
 
 " It is quite enough for me," returned Dessie, curtly. 
 " The proofs will be easily forthcoming. I can put my 
 hand on them." 
 
 " You are a difficult young woman to deal with ; but 
 I think I can see your motive, clever as it is. You wish 
 to set Mrs. Markham against me. You are afraid that 
 you will lose that control of her money which your present 
 influence gives you. You start this cock and bull story 
 about my being some French criminal in disguise not 
 because you believe it yourself and think there is the re- 
 motest atom of truth in the accusation, but for a very 
 astute reason nevertheless. You calculate that it will in- 
 duce your friend and patron to institute some kind of 
 exhaustive investigation into my character, and you 
 reckon that in such a case there may be discovered some 
 one incident or other which you can twist and distort and 
 magnify until in your clever white hands it will be enough
 
 A Bribe 55 
 
 to separate us and allow you to keep your rich friend's 
 riches for yourself." He paused, screwed up his eyes, 
 and looked at the girl through the little slits. 
 
 " Well ? " said Dessie, in a plain matter of fact tone. 
 
 " You are judging others me, that is by your own 
 standard." Dessie could not wholly restrain a slight 
 start at this unexpected thrust. " You have secrets in 
 your life that you don't wish exposed to every prying eye 
 not even your lover's eye. You reckon that if that be 
 so with a young girl beginning life like you, it is much 
 more likely to be the case with a man half through with 
 it, like me. Well, as it happens, you are almost wholly 
 wrong. With ninety-nine men out of every hundred the 
 searchlight, if powerful enough, would probably find an 
 ugly spot somewhere capable of a very sinister interpre- 
 tation. But I don't believe even your pretty ingenuity 
 could do much harm with the facts you would find in 
 my life. Certainly not of recent years. But, like most 
 men " here the intensity of his vigilant watch of her 
 face seemed to increase " I don't want such an inquiry, 
 either for my sake or that of others. It would do no good 
 to anyone though it could do no harm to me." 
 
 " Well ? " said Dessie, again, as he paused. 
 
 " You could do no good for yourself by it, Miss Mer- 
 rion. You would not win in the end. You would not 
 find sufficient to part Dora and me. I love her. She loves 
 me. We conjugate every tense of every mood of the verb 
 to love. More, she trusts me as I trust her. There is not 
 an incident in all my life about which a word of explana- 
 tion from me would not suffice to satisfy her. My heart 
 tells me that. Therefore, you are bound to lose lose her 
 friendship, her patronage, her help, her money, every- 
 thing. You must see that. You could not be the friend of 
 a man and wife whom you had tried malignantly to part."
 
 56 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 '' I see that," said Bessie, when he paused again. 
 
 " Then let us three rather be good, firm, fast friends, 
 as Dora herself would wish. It will be better worth your 
 while to do that, don't you think ? I will see tfiat it is so, 
 indeed." 
 
 " ' Worth my while ? ' How do you mean ? " 
 
 " I am frankness itself, and we are alone together. I 
 do not wish to have these doubts poured into the ears of 
 the woman I love and am to marry. For the sake of 
 others, I would rather have no such inquiry. If, therefore, 
 you agree to see this as I do, then, whatever you wish in 
 reason, shall be done after we are married." 
 
 A craftily-worded bribe, but the girl intended to make 
 him speak plainly. She knitted her brows as if in 
 thought, and then, after a pause, acting diffidence she 
 said slowly and hesitatingly, 
 
 " How am I to know what you would do, and that you 
 would really do it ? I do not wish to make mischief unin- 
 tentionally." 
 
 " You can name any sum that you would like to give to 
 a charity up to five thousand pounds ; and you shall have 
 it." 
 
 There was no mistake now ; and Bessie's honest heart 
 beat with anger and her cheeks flushed with shame as she 
 bent her head down to hide her face from him. 
 
 In the pause that followed, while the girl was fighting 
 for sufficient composure to find some sort of reply, the 
 door was opened quickly, and Mrs. Markham came burst- 
 ing in upon them. 
 
 "I thought I'd give you a surprise," she cried, laugh- 
 ing. " You've been quite long enough together, too, I 
 think, to get to know one another better. And I shall be 
 jealous of you, Bessie, if you monopolise Godefroi longer. 
 I hope you are getting on well ? " And she looked a little
 
 A Bribe 57 
 
 'doubtfully into Bessie's flushed face, which bore unmis- 
 takable evidence of the girl's agitation. 
 
 " Miss Merrion and I have had a most interesting 
 chat," said the Count, taking Dora's hands and kissing 
 them both. " And we are getting to understand one 
 another most completely. I am beginning to admire Miss 
 Merrion's cleverness almost as much as you, my Dora; 
 and I believe we shall be the closest of friends. But you 
 are looking radiant, Dora; and I was afraid you were 
 suffering and ill. Even illness cannot dim your eyes or 
 pale your cheeks, or hide your beauty." 
 
 As Dessie watched her friend's face, she saw the cheeks 
 colour with pleasure at this most fulsome compliment. 
 She longed to speak out and tell all she knew, but feared 
 to force a crisis at that instant and without further re- 
 flection as to her best line of action. 
 
 When she was silent, she caught the man's dark eyes 
 fixed upon her with an expression of triumph.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A DARING ATTEMPT 
 
 DESSIE was not to wait long before she had a startling 
 and terrible proof of the desperate lengths to which 
 her antagonist was prepared to go in prosecuting his 
 scheme, and removing any obstacle that stood in his 
 way. 
 
 The equivocal relations which the untimely arrival of 
 Mrs. Markham produced between Dessie and the Count 
 were too distasteful for her to suffer them to continue one 
 unnecessary moment. She was not prepared to denounce 
 him at once to her friend as Rolande Lespard; she was 
 confident in her belief, but wished to be absolutely certain 
 and to be in possession of proof. Nothing short of that 
 would open the love-sealed eyes of her friend. But 
 neither could she bring herself to allow the man to remain 
 in the belief that she would take the disgusting bribe he 
 offered for her silence. 
 
 It was not easy, however, to find an opportunity to 
 speak to him alone. He did not remain long that morn- 
 ing ; and as soon as he was gone Mrs. Markham plied her 
 with questions, which Dessie found somewhat difficult 
 to parry, as to what she and the Count had talked about in 
 their long conversation. 
 
 " I am so glad you like him better," she said, when 
 they had gone upstairs together and the widow was 
 changing a dainty morning wrapper for a walking cos- 
 tume. " I was sure you would when you got to know 
 
 58
 
 A Daring Attempt 59 
 
 him better. He is the dearest and best fellow that ever 
 lived. Don't you think so now ? " 
 
 " You can't expect me to go so far as that, Dora." 
 
 " No, I don't want you to. But he is a dear fellow, 
 isn't he?" 
 
 " Well, that is scarcely the epithet I should use either," 
 said Dessie, with a smile. 
 
 " What epithet would you use then ? " 
 
 " I don't know him thoroughly enough yet. I'll tell 
 you more a week hence." 
 
 " By-the-bye, what were you doing with your hat on ? 
 You weren't going out ? " asked the widow suddenly, with 
 a sharp glance. 
 
 " I thought of going out ; that's all," answered Dessie, 
 indifferently. 
 
 " What, with the Count de Montalt ? Where on earth 
 were you going with him ? " 
 
 " I did not say I was going with him, dear," answered 
 Dessie, evasively, but hating the necessary evasion. 
 " You know I'm accustomed to wait on myself and run 
 on my own messages. It's nothing for me to pop my 
 hat on and run to the post, and so on." 
 
 " I don't understand, Dessie. What could you want to 
 run out to the post for in the middle of a conversation 
 with Godef roi ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " What a puzzled a face you have, dear. You're wrink- 
 ling it into a hundred and fifty frowns just because I took 
 my hat downstairs instead of leaving it up in my room. 
 I wish I could make it a little mystery for you. But there 
 isn't one ; " and she laughed and kissed her friend on the 
 forehead. " And now, Dora, do you know, we must talk 
 of something that is serious. I must go home, my dear. I 
 .have a heap of work waiting for me." 
 
 ." But you can't go home to-day, nor to-morrow. I tell
 
 60 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 you what I've been thinking. I want you to come and 
 stop here for a few weeks. I'll have a little study fitted 
 up for you just where you like. No one shall interfere 
 with you. You shall have your own hours for work, 
 and a latchkey if you like be a regular new woman, and 
 when you can spare time give yourself to me. Do ! Tom 
 Cheriton can come and see you just as he does at your 
 rooms. I should like him and Godefroi to be friends. 
 Do come, Dessie. Stop till we're married. Do. Let us 
 send up for all your belongings. But there, I shan't let 
 you say no." 
 
 " I'll come for a time -a few days," said Dessie. It 
 occurred to her that in this way she could the better carry 
 out her plans. " But I won't say for how long. But I 
 must go at once and make all the arrangements." 
 
 " You mean see Tom," laughed Mrs. Markham. " But 
 you haven't told me a word yet of all that you and Gode- 
 froi talked about this morning. And I'm so jealous of 
 you're having had him all to yourself for such a long 
 time." 
 
 " I can't stop now. But you shall know every word as 
 soon as I get a fit opportunity of telling you." And in this 
 way Dessie escaped saying anything for the moment, and 
 until she had had an opportunity of a talk over everything 
 with her lover. 
 
 She left the house and hurried to her own rooms, where 
 a great disappointment met her. A letter from Tom 
 Cheriton, written hastily on the previous evening, told her 
 that he had had to leave town. 
 
 " D. D. (this stood for " Dearest Dessie " in their lan- 
 guage), Our hearts are to be subjected to the awful 
 strain of absence. A wire has just come saying that my 
 uncle is ill, and wants me at once down at the Smokehole 
 you know where I mean, and how I love the place. But
 
 A Daring Attempt 61 
 
 I must go sacrificing even my briefs. -I don't suppose 
 it's serious. I hope not. But the dear old fellow has been 
 so good to me that I wouldn't disappoint him at any cost. 
 I'll write you to-morrow from The Leas. If you write 
 me very nice letters, I'll try and help forward that little 
 partnership which we spoke of this afternoon. Ever as 
 ever. T. A. A. 
 
 " T. A. A.^ stood for " Tom All Alone," a Dickens re- 
 ference which gave the pair of cheery lovers great pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 But her lover's absence from town now was particu- 
 larly unwelcome to Dessie. The trouble with the Count 
 de Montalt, or Rolande Lespard, or whoever he might 
 really be, placed her sadly in need of just that strong 
 practical counsel which she knew Tom Cheriton could 
 give her. 
 
 Her encounter with the man in the morning had left 
 her less confident in her own strength and fighting power 
 than she had been before. If she was right she had had 
 infinitely the stronger weapons to fight with; and yet he 
 had beaten her. Even when he was no more to her than 
 a name and a threatening shadow, she had always had a 
 sensation of fear of him and of the desperate lengths to 
 which she believed him capable of going; and this fear 
 made her unwilling to struggle with him single-handed. 
 
 She had intended to tell Tom at once and frankly all 
 that she intended him to know about her past, so that they 
 together, working in complete confidence, might expose 
 the man and save Dora. Tom would have known what to 
 do, she thought. But she could not write the secrets that 
 would have to be whispered when her lips were close to 
 his ear. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to wait, therefore and 
 delay must mean that she must either go on letting the
 
 62 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 man believe her as vile as himself willing to sell her best 
 friend for a price or run some personal risk by unde- 
 ceiving him. 
 
 Without more than a minute's hesitation she chose the 
 latter course. She would tell him at once that he was mis- 
 taken in her, and warn him to keep away from Dora. She 
 resolved also to urge Tom Cheriton to come back as soon 
 as possible ; and made up her mind to go and stay at South 
 Kensington until the crisis was over. She accordingly 
 made all the necessary arrangements and packed such 
 clothes, books, and papers as she would need for a stay of 
 some weeks if necessary. The rest of her papers she 
 locked in a little safe she had. 
 
 That done she wrote to her lover, telling him what she 
 meant to do, and urging him to return to town as soon 
 as possible, because there was a very important matter 
 about Mrs. Markham's Count in which she wished to 
 consult him. " I have made a discovery about him that 
 frightens me; and I am at a loss to know quite what to 
 do. I want your help and advice ; and I don't want to get 
 into trouble by making blunders, as, of course, you'll 
 think I'm likely to do. If you want to save me from an 
 ugly intrigue, hurry back." 
 
 Then she returned to South Kensington, hardening her 
 resolve all the way, to tell the Count de Montalt what her 
 intentions were. He must keep away from South Ken- 
 sington until Tom's return, or she would tell Dora openly 
 whom she believed him to be. 
 
 Chance helped her to an excellent opportunity of doing 
 this. As she turned in at one end of Edgecumbe Square 
 she saw the Count approaching from the other. She 
 quickened her pace therefore, and passing the house met 
 him. 
 
 " I should like one word with you," she said, curtly.
 
 A Daring Attempt 63 
 
 " A thousand if you will," he answered, raising his hat 
 and bowing. " Shall we turn and walk, or would you like 
 another appointment? I shall always be charmed to be 
 a friend of yours now, Miss Merrion." 
 
 " I have not sought your friendship, thank you," said 
 the girl, coldly, " and will not accept it. What I wish to 
 say now is that I repudiate entirely the vile offer you 
 made this morning to bribe me. I only let you speak 
 without interruption so that I might know how far you 
 would go. I have only this to say now : -If you dare to 
 come again to Mrs. Markham's house I will denounce you 
 at once." 
 
 His face grew very stormy, and a heavy frown forced 
 his black thick eyebrows together. But his voice was 
 courteous and even as he answered : 
 
 " Do you mean that, unequivocally and absolutely ? Is 
 there no consideration will induce you to wait at least 
 until I have an opportunity of getting proofs from 
 France ? " 
 
 " When you have them," said Dessie, contemptuously, 
 " tnen by all means come. But not till then." 
 
 11 You will live to repent this bitterly, Miss Merrion. 
 You have put upon me a wholly undeserved disgrace; 
 and if I accept your terms it is only because I wish to 
 spare the woman who is to be my wife, and whom I love 
 with all my heart, from the pain and sorrow which such a 
 malignant accusation from a friend like yourself would 
 cause her. I wish you had been as considerate. When we 
 meet next, I shall have the proofs you want." 
 
 Then, to Dessie's intense surprise, he raised his hat, 
 turned and walked away. She had not for an instant be- 
 lieved that this single stroke would have so immediate 
 an effect. But when she saw him pass out of sight round 
 the corner of the square her spirits rose, and as she ran
 
 64 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 up the broad steps of Mrs. Markham's house she smiled 
 in high glee. 
 
 " But a reaction soon set in, and Dessie began to fear 
 that such a victory over such a man had been won too 
 cheaply, and that this apparently weak compliance with 
 her terms was only meant as a cover for some much 
 stronger move. 
 
 And she soon had a terrible proof that this was so. 
 
 When the Count did not keep his appointment for that 
 afternoon, Mrs. Markham was first impatient, then irri- 
 table, next nervous, and lastly full of anxiety lest some 
 accident had occurred; and she passed quickly through 
 these different moods. Dessie could not, of course, tell 
 her what she knew the reason to be, and that in all prob- 
 ability the expected visitor would not come at all. But she 
 was certainly unprepared for what happened. 
 
 After some two hours of waiting, in which Dora shed 
 tears more than once, and seemed inclined to be hyster- 
 ical, the Count was announced. He came in full of 
 apologies to Mrs. Markham for the delay, and told 
 copious untruths, as Dessie knew, about the cause of his 
 lateness. 
 
 The widow was too excited and agitated by his arrival 
 to pay any heed to the greeting between the other two. 
 The man's nonchalant impudence was so complete that 
 Dessie was at a momentary loss what to do, and before 
 she had recovered herself, he was bead-ing over her with 
 a grave bow. 
 
 " I have brought the proofs," he whispered and then 
 turned to speak again to Mrs. Markham., 
 
 He had scarcely arrived when afternoon tea was 
 brought in, and with it came the young fellow who had 
 long been in love with Dora, George Vezey^ After greet- 
 ing the Count in any but a cordial manner, he sat down
 
 A Daring Attempt 65 
 
 by Dessie and lapsed into a silence so unusual that the 
 others rallied him upon the change. 
 
 The Count, on the other hand, was all lightness of 
 speech, jest, and compliment ; so much so that Dessie 
 was sure he had some purpose to hide, and she watched 
 him with quiet but unrelaxing vigilance. 
 
 Something in his manner made her very suspicious of 
 him. Presently she noticed that while insisting upon 
 handing her a cup of tea, he stood holding it for a moment 
 with his back to her, while he finished telling a story he 
 had begun, and he let the spoon fall, and had to stoop, 
 with his back still towards Dessie, in order to pick it up 
 and replace it on the saucer. It was only a little thing, 
 but Dessie saw that he had dropped the spoon intention- 
 ally, and believed he had done it to get an opportunity to 
 tamper with the tea. 
 
 She knew the man was an expert in poisons; and in- 
 stantly she resolved not to drink a drop of it. She stirred 
 it slowly, pretended to taste it, and made a wry face. 
 
 " My dear Dora, what have you done with my tea ? 
 You are so excited, you have given me yours. It is all 
 sugar. It will just suit you. Give me yours." 
 
 " Very well, dear. Give it me." 
 
 " Allow me," said the Count, quickly going to Dessie, 
 and holding out his hand for the cup. 
 
 " Thank you, don't trouble. I am going to change my 
 chair," answered Dessie, coolly, trying to keep the cup 
 from him. 
 
 " Pardon me, I cannot allow that ; it is a trouble," he 
 replied, and pushing forward, he deliberately took the 
 cup and saucer from her, and then, as if in confusion, 
 let them drop with a crash to the ground, uttering loud 
 apologies and expressions of regret for his clumsiness. 
 
 A glance showed Dessie that though the cup was
 
 66 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 broken, and most of the tea spilt, there was yet enough 
 left in the fragment of the cup, and in the saucer, for the 
 purpose of analysis, to confirm or dissolve her suspicions. 
 
 " Oh, Dora, it is my favourite cup," she cried, and 
 stooping took the larger half of the broken cup, poured 
 into it what tea remained in the saucer, and, without wait- 
 ing to say more, hurried with it out of the room. As she 
 was passing the Count, he made a quick movement, as 
 if to strike the cup from her hand, under the pretence of 
 assisting her, but she avoided him, and as she glanced into 
 his face their eyes met, and he knew that she had dis- 
 covered his daring attempt to poison her, and was es- 
 caping with the proofs of his guilt. 
 
 She knew now well enough why he had ventured to re- 
 turn to the house, and why he had seemed to yield so 
 readily when they had met in the Square. 
 
 He had been to fetch the drug which he needed for the 
 attempt on her life.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE incident had happened so suddenly, passed so 
 quickly, and arisen out of such a commonplace circum- 
 stance, that until Dessie was alone in her own room she 
 did not realise fully that she had actually had a most nar- 
 row escape of losing her life. 
 
 The simple manner in which the attempt had been made, 
 its consummate daring, and the audacity of endeavouring 
 to poison her in a cup of tea given so openly before her 
 friands, filled her with such intense astonishment, that 
 she could only marvel at her assailant's recklessness. 
 
 But astonishment soon gave way to fear. The man 
 who would dare such an attempt would dare anything; 
 and Dessie longed earnestly for Tom Cheriton's return, 
 and began to regret that she had taken her first step in 
 his absence. She was no match for this murderer, and 
 as she sat and eyed the broken fragile cup, with its few 
 drops of what she believed to be a subtle poison, she grew 
 almost afraid to be alone, and trembled and glanced 
 about her nervously, as if expecting an attack even in her 
 own room. 
 
 It was some minutes before she could shake off her 
 agitation and regain any degree of self-possession. Then 
 she emptied the contents of the cup into a small bottle, 
 and this she carefully hid lest anyone should take it away 
 in mistake. 
 
 6?
 
 68 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 After that she washed out the cup, placed it on the 
 table that had been arranged for her writing materials, 
 and then returned to the small drawing-room in which 
 the incident had occurred. 
 
 " Whatever is the matter with you to-day, child ? " 
 said Mrs. Markham, as she entered. " You've been doing 
 all sorts of curious things." 
 
 " I suppose it must be the effect of Tom's absence," 
 answered the girl, with a smile. 
 
 " Or the result of being introduced to de Montalt," said 
 George Vezey. " People do all sorts of odd things after 
 they've been introduced to him." This with a glance at 
 Mrs. Markham. " I believe you have the evil eye, Count, 
 or some such beastly thing as that." 
 
 " That is a very unpleasant as well as a very stupid 
 thing to say, George," said Mrs. Markham, annoyed by 
 this ; but the Count laughed good humouredly and easily. 
 He did not care a rap for the young fellow's temper ; in- 
 deed he rather enjoyed it. It was not in any way likely 
 to interfere with his plans ; so he could afford to be tol- 
 erant of the other's temper. 
 
 The relations between Mrs. Markham and young 
 Vezey were naturally strained just now. Till the Count's 
 coming they had been virtually engaged. Vezey was 
 good-looking, fair, slim, and well-tailored ; and he rather 
 affected the effeminate manner of a young fellow about 
 town. But in Bessie's opinion there was more affecta- 
 tion than effeminacy about him ; and she liked him, and 
 believed him to be much more capable than his surface 
 manner suggested. 
 
 Mrs. Markham had- been in the habit of making use of 
 him for all conceivable purposes ; and he had taken a 
 genuine pleasure in dancing attendance upon her every- 
 where, and in helping her in the thousand and one ways
 
 A Reckless Enemy 69 
 
 in which an attentive man can help the woman he loves 
 to get the most enjoyment out of life. 
 
 But the promotion of de Montalt had changed his view 
 of things altogether. Vezey found himself deposed from 
 his position, and took the change in very ill part, disliking 
 the Count proportionately. Nothing irritated him more 
 than for Dora to take the other man's part against him. 
 
 He let the matter pass now, however, with nothing 
 more antagonistic than an angry glance at de Montalt, 
 who smiled more broadly as he saw it. The relations 
 between three out of the four were thus ruffled, and the 
 conversation lagged rather heavily until the two men left 
 the house, to which they were to return later to dine. 
 
 After dinner the Count and George Vezey stayed so 
 long over their wine and cigars that Mrs. Markham grew 
 impatient; and when they came into the drawing-room 
 Vezey went and sat by Dessie at one end of the long 
 room, in one of the large bay windows. 
 
 "I hate that chappie, Miss Merrion, don't you?" he 
 said, soon after he joined her. " I believe he's an awful 
 bounder, and I can't for the life of me think what she 
 sees in him. Can you?" 
 
 " Why did you introduce him ? " asked Dessie. 
 
 " Why was I an idiot, you mean ? The questions are 
 about the same in different forms. The truth is he got 
 me out of a scrape I was a fool ever to get into. I was 
 over in Antwerp with a rowdy American I picked up in 
 the playrooms at Ostend, and in the course of things we 
 got into a beastly street row. Before you could say 
 Tommyrot, a lot of beastly-looking sailor chappies were 
 round us, and more than one bally knife was out of its 
 sheath. I was in a ghastly funk, I'll own, and would 
 have given five pounds for the sight of a police Johnnie. 
 Then this Count fellow bang slangs into the middle of th<?
 
 jo The Heritage of Peril 
 
 whole show, and before the beggars with the knives 
 quite knew what was happening, he had waltzed us 
 out of the mess, and into a place of safety. I'm bound 
 to say he's a plucky Johnnie, and awfully handy with 
 his fists. He floored two or three of the beggars in rip- 
 ping style." 
 
 " You shouldn't get into such places," laughed Dessie. 
 " I'm bound to say it served you right. You're not to 
 be trusted." 
 
 " That's all right, I know. And if I could have paid 
 the fellow a reward a fiver, or two or three of them, 
 for that matter I shouldn't have cared. But he's not 
 the sort of man you can offer coin to, don't you know, 
 is he? Well, he froze to me, as ill luck would have it, 
 and when he knew I was staying at Ostend, nothing 
 would please him but that he should come over to the 
 same place. And then, what the dickens was I to do? 
 How could I help it? I had to introduce him. He did 
 the rest himself. But I'd rather have had one of those 
 beggars' knives stuck into me than what's happened." 
 He spoke quite savagely. 
 
 " But do you mean really that you know no more of 
 the Count than you have told me, Mr. Vezey ? " 
 
 " Not a syllable, except a lot of gas he himself has 
 blown off about his estates, and family, and connections, 
 and a lot more rot of that sort." 
 
 " And does Dora know how little you know? " 
 
 " Oh she's got no eyes for anything but his face, and 
 no ears except for his sickening compliments. I could 
 kick the fellow when I hear them." 
 
 " Why don't you, then ? " said Dessie, quietly. 
 
 " What good would it do ? I should get a bally hiding, 
 and be shut out of this house for my pains." 
 
 " And what do you yourself really think of him ? "
 
 A Reckless Enemy 71 
 
 " That he's a bounder, or worse. Ton my soul, I'm 
 sometimes afraid of what I do think about him. He does 
 such devilish odd things. Here's an instance to-night, 
 even. After you two had left the table, we sat smoking 
 cigarettes for a couple of minutes, and then he began to 
 chaff me about all sorts of rot ; and at last about my not 
 being able to smoke strong cigars. He riled me : He al- 
 ways does. His manner's enough to do that, to tell the 
 truth. He seems to rub my hair the wrong way; and 
 I let him run on, till he bet me a fiver I couldn't smoke 
 one of his cigars with him at a sitting without leaving my 
 chair to be sick. Of course I took him on. A fiver's a 
 fiver, to say nothing of the pleasure of winning it from 
 him." 
 
 " Well ? " asked Dessie, showing more interest in the 
 incident than her companion expected. 
 
 " We lighted up, each taking a weed from his case 
 and strong ones they were, too, I'll own and puffed 
 away. But before we'd been a couple of minutes at that 
 game he put his hand to his heart, or his throat, or some- 
 where, and said he felt queer, and must get a box of 
 lozenges from his great coat. I told him one of the 
 servants could get it or bring him his coat; but that 
 wouldn't suit him it seemed, and he went out of the 
 room saying he'd be back in a minute. He was twenty 
 minutes gone, if he was a second. I'd nearly finished the 
 great black cigar he gave me when he came back; so I 
 know how long he was. His, by the way, was scarcely 
 touched. He said he hadn't brought the lozenges he 
 wanted, and had been out to buy them. But his face 
 looked as black and angry as his dress coat, and he mut- 
 tered something or other about not being well, and he 
 seemed awfully excited. When I asked him why he 
 hadn't been smoking his cigar, he first swore, and then
 
 72 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 said I was an idiot; that he had finished his first cigar, 
 and that was his second. But I didn't believe him, 
 though what the deuce he'd been doing I don't know." 
 
 His hearer had a shrewd guess, but didn't express it. 
 Instead of that she laughed and asked 
 
 " Did he give you the ' fiver,' Mr. Vezey ? " 
 
 " Yes, with some sort of rubbish about it being the 
 cheapest and yet dearest five pounds' worth he had ever 
 bought; I don't know what he meant." 
 
 After this answer Dessie turned the subject, and 
 chatted about some other matters. George Vezey's 
 thoughts were, however, all tinged with one colour 
 regret for having lost Mrs. Markham and he was soon 
 back to the same theme; but before he had been long 
 indulging his lament, Dessie made an excuse and left 
 him. 
 
 She could not wait any longer to verify the suspicion 
 that had occurred to her, as to the object of the man's 
 absence from the dinner table. 
 
 She ran up to her room, feeling much excited. 
 
 A glance at the place confirmed her suspicions. Some- 
 one had been there, turning over her things. 
 
 When she had dressed for dinner she had left every- 
 thing in order. The luggage from her own rooms had 
 been brought to the house, and she had unpacked before 
 dressing. The books and the papers she had put back 
 into one of the boxes a strong iron box of German 
 make, with a peculiar key and fastening and the clothes 
 and hats she had placed away in the wardrobe and 
 drawers. She had also taken pains to set out the little 
 table which had been placed for her writing in one of the 
 windows. On this her writing materials lay ready a 
 large blotting pad which she always used and a folding 
 desk slope.
 
 A Reckless Enemy 73 
 
 At the right hand side of the slope close to the window 
 she had left the broken cup. 
 
 It was gone. 
 
 Many of the things in the room had been turned over 
 and disarranged. The drawers, in which everything had 
 been laid tidily, had evidently been hurriedly searched, 
 and an attempt made to put the contents back so that a 
 superficial observation might not detect that they had 
 been disturbed. 
 
 But to Dessie, knowing what she did, the trail of the 
 searcher was easy to follow. 
 
 She rang the bell and questioned the maid who had 
 charge of the room. She knew the girl well, and liked 
 her. 
 
 " Martin, I broke a teacup, and brought it up here, 
 I think, so that it could be kept. Have you seen it? I 
 am almost sure I left it on the writing table when I 
 went down to dinner." 
 
 " I saw it when I brought you some hot water, Miss, 
 and when I was helping you to put your things away, and 
 afterwards when you were dressing. But I don't know 
 exactly where you put it. I didn't see it when I came 
 up afterwards to light the gas and make the room ready." 
 
 " When was that, Martin? " 
 
 " I was very late to-night, Miss. I'd only been down 
 about five minutes or so when you rang the bell now." 
 
 " Then I must have taken it down myself without 
 thinking about it. I suppose none of the other servants 
 would be likely to take it away, thinking it was put out 
 to be thrown away as it was broken ? " 
 
 " No one comes into the room except myself, Miss." 
 
 " You're quite certain of that ? " 
 
 " Quite positive, Miss, quite," said the girl, emphati- 
 cally.
 
 74 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " Well, of course, it's of no consequence whatever," 
 said Dessie, pleasantly. " Only I wanted to see whether 
 I could really be so foolish as to mean to do one thing 
 with it and then do another. And it's quite clear I did." 
 
 " Is there anything else, Miss ? " asked the maid. 
 
 " Nothing, thank you." But when the girl had closed 
 the door behind her and gone Bessie's face grew very 
 grave. There might be some gap in the evidence, but 
 she was content with it and accepted it as proof that her 
 antagonist had left his companion at the dinner table, 
 after securing that he would stop there by making the 
 bet with him, and had then come to her room to search 
 for the cup containing the remnant of the poison, so that 
 he could destroy the traces of his deed. And the frown 
 which George Vezey had said darkened his face on his 
 return was caused by his failure. 
 
 The bottle into which Dessie had poured the few drops 
 of poisoned tea was a small one, and in her hurry she had 
 thrust it right into the middle of the bed between the 
 mattresses. She felt for it now, and a smile of triumph 
 lighted her face as she pulled it out and held it up to the 
 gaslight to examine it. 
 
 But as she turned to lock it away a fresh thought oc- 
 curred to her. If this man meant still to try and get 
 possession of the bottle, had she not better hide it instead 
 of merely locking it up? This suggested to her that she 
 should examine her locked box very closely, to ascertain 
 whether it had been opened. 
 
 A scrutiny of the lock showed her nothing, nor when 
 she unfastened it could she be more certain. She had 
 put the books and papers into it in a great hurry without 
 any method, while she was not quite certain what papers 
 she had brought with her. But the contents were 
 fumbled together in a manner which left it quite an open
 
 A Reckless Enemy 75 
 
 question whether or not they had been tampered with in 
 the same manner as the things in the drawers, and as a 
 result the girl determined not to put the poison there, 
 but to find some secure hiding-place for it somewhere 
 in the house. 
 
 This resolve alone showed how great and growing 
 was her fear of the man who was thus proving himself 
 so daring an antagonist. This fear was uppermost in her 
 mind as she walked uneasily up and down the room, 
 thinking closely what ought to be her next step in the 
 struggle with the dangerous man who was ready to go 
 to such desperate lengths against her in defence of his 
 purpose. 
 
 For the moment she was literally afraid to expose him ; 
 and when she went downstairs again it was with the 
 resolve to say nothing that night, but to wire the first 
 thing in the morning to Tom to come at once to London 
 and help her to right matters. At the same time she re- 
 solved to have the poison analysed. 
 
 As soon as she opened the drawing-room door, the 
 Count's eyes fell on her, and she seemed to read in his 
 face that he had guessed the object of her absence from 
 the room and what she had discovered. 
 
 Five minutes later a manoeuvre of his had brought 
 Dora and George Vezey together at one end of the room ; 
 and then making an excuse he crossed directly to Dessie, 
 who shuddered as he approached. 
 
 " I want you to see this view, Miss Merrion, and let 
 me tell you what happened here," he said. He was hold- 
 ing a photograph in his hand and spoke loud so that the 
 others could hear. But as soon as he was by the girl's 
 side, he dropped his voice, and said quietly, and as though 
 he was describing some incident connected with the photo- 
 graph.
 
 76 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " I know where you have been, and why. You think 
 you have made a discovery. I know that I have. Be 
 careful what you do. I know you now, and will speak 
 to you to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, at the far- 
 ther end of the Square, near Cromwell Road. We must 
 understand one another, you and I, and be friends, or it 
 is you, not I, will suffer. Be warned in time. I will give 
 you the proofs you want, together with some others you 
 don't want " this, with a pause and a smile of infinite 
 cunning and menace " to-morrow morning. Yes, just 
 at that point," he broke off, speaking in another tone, 
 as Mrs. Markham came towards the pair, in pursuit of 
 him, to hear what he had to say to Dessie, " he hung there 
 for two hours," and in a light airy manner he continued 
 the description of an imaginary incident, speaking in a 
 manner that suggested he had been relating it to Dessie 
 before Mrs. Markham joined them. 
 
 But the girl herself was thinking not of that, but of the 
 challenge which she read in his words, and looked so 
 grave that Mrs. Markham rallied her upon being scared 
 by the Count's story.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 " I WANT TO KNOW ALSO WHO YOU ARE '* 
 
 " IT'S my belief you've been overworking yourself, 
 Dessie," said Mrs. Markham, when the two sat chatting 
 together alone before going to bed. " You're not a bit 
 yourself and you look worried and almost scared to 
 death ; or else your illness has left you much weaker than 
 you think." 
 
 " No, there's nothing the matter with me," replied Des- 
 sie, smiling. " Of course the fever did pull me down, 
 but I'm better. Tom will have it that I've not picked up 
 my strength yet; but then he's such a ridiculous fidget. 
 Men are." 
 
 " He's right now, I'm afraid. I sha'n't let you do much 
 work here, mind; I won't have it," and Dora shook her 
 head as though laying down the law, while she smiled 
 very kindly. Then another thought occurred to her, and 
 she took one of the girl's hands in hers and pressed it. 
 " I suppose there's no other worry, is there ? Now, tell 
 me the truth no money bothers? You know that one 
 of the only pleasures this money of mine gives me is to 
 let me be useful sometimes." The light in her eyes was 
 very gentle, and her face very compassionate as she put 
 this question. 
 
 " No, certainly not. Why, only a couple of weeks ago 
 I sold a serial. I have actually a balance in the bank ; to 
 say nothing of quite a lot of money that is owing to me." 
 
 " Then what is it ? There's nothing wrong between 
 
 11
 
 78 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Tom and you, is there? Nothing that has made him go 
 off in this way. I'm so happy, I can't bear to see you 
 like this." 
 
 " Dear old Tom. No." exclaimed Dessie, a blush and 
 a smile breaking out all over her face as she spoke, 
 " Why, it was only an hour or two before I got your wire 
 that we were having the cosiest of cosy chats over a cup 
 of tea in my rooms, and half inclined to be jealous of you 
 because we said you were likely to be married before us." 
 
 " Then what is it ? " asked Dora, after a pause, and 
 looking straight into her friend's face. " There's some- 
 thing, Dessie. I've been looking at you a dozen times 
 to-day, and each time the worried look has seemed to 
 increase. Have you any other kind of trouble ? " 
 
 " Nothing that concerns myself ; and nothing that I 
 shan't be able to tell you in a day or so," said the girl. 
 
 " Why not now ? The time is never too soon for a 
 confidence." 
 
 " Why not now ? " repeated Dessie, lapsing then into 
 silence, as she weighed whether she would or not tell 
 Dora what her real suspicions of the Count were. She 
 longed to warn her and put her on her guard, but she 
 could not help feeling that to do that without having 
 the actual proof would do little good, and might do harm. 
 If the evidence was not sufficient to at once convince the 
 widow that her lover was really a scoundrel, she would 
 be all the harder to convince in the end. Her faith must 
 be broken at one blow, or it would survive a gradual 
 assault. 
 
 " Why not now ? " repeated Mrs. Markham very softly, 
 pressing her companion's hand. 
 
 " No, not yet," answered Dessie. " I I must have a 
 little more time." 
 
 " Is it anything anything about Godef roi ? Don't you
 
 " I Want to Know also Who You Are " 79 
 
 really like him any better than you did ? " She asked the 
 question almost wistfully, rather like a child. 
 
 " I have not seen much more of him. Except this 
 morning you have monopolised him the greater part of 
 the time he has been in the house." 
 
 Mrs. Markham looked at her friend intently in silence 
 for a few moments, then she sighed. 
 
 " He likes you, Dessie," she said at length, " but he 
 seems to understand that you dislike him. He is the 
 most generous and sincere of good fellows, and he 
 has told me how much it grieves him that you, one of my 
 best friends, should seem to both distrust and dislike 
 him. Have you said anything to him about this ? Don't 
 try and part us, dear. Try rather to like him. He is 
 afraid you want to separate us, and he told me to-night it 
 would break his heart and ruin his life if anything were 
 to come between us. I couldn't give him up. Nothing 
 should ever make me. Don't try, Dessie. Don't for 
 heaven's sake. I love your friendship and hold it deep in 
 my heart. But don't ever force me to choose between 
 friendship and love. Promise me you'll never do that. 
 Promise me ! " and she threw her arms round Dessie 
 and kissed her, having spoken with a quite impetuous 
 vehemence. 
 
 " I can promise you faithfully, my dear," answered 
 the girl steadily, " that I will never ask you to choose 
 between your friendship for me and your love for the 
 Count de Montalt." 
 
 Dora, in whose eyes the ready tears were standing, 
 lifted her head and looked through them at her com- 
 panion. Then she dashed the tears hastily away as if they 
 interfered with her scrutinising the girl's face. 
 
 " I don't like that tone," she said. " It sounds hard 
 and without heart, not a bit like you. What has passed
 
 8o The Heritage of Peril 
 
 between you and Godefroi to-day? Will you tell me? 
 Something serious, I'm sure." 
 
 Dessie was silent. The elder woman put her face close 
 to the girl's, and stared eagerly and almost fiercely 
 into it with an expression which her next question ex- 
 plained. 
 
 " Have you ever met him before ? Do you know any- 
 thing about him about him and any other woman ? Are 
 you keeping anything from me? Dessie, you mustn't 
 do that," she said with intense earnestness. " Mark me, 
 I don't care what there is to know about other women. 
 Men are not saints, and nothing short of an actual legal 
 bar between us should ever keep Godefroi and me apart. 
 I love him with all my soul, and if ever man loved woman 
 he loves me. I want no more than that, and the knowl- 
 edge makes me almost mad in my happiness. You can 
 tell me anything. Let the past be what it may and as 
 black as it may, the future he will keep white for love of 
 me. Don't try to part us, Dessie. You can't do it." 
 
 " He has been talking to you till he has excited you, 
 Dora," said Dessie, still very quietly and firmly. " What 
 I said last night, I say to-night. If he be what you think 
 him, the marriage will have no heartier well-wisher 
 than I." 
 
 " Yes," answered her companion, impatiently and al- 
 most angrily. " But there is something behind that ' if ' ; 
 and when you say it I turn chill, and almost fear you, for 
 the possibility of parting it suggests. Do you know, Des- 
 sie, I believe I could hate even you if you tried to come 
 between us." 
 
 Then she got up hastily out of her chair and began to 
 walk about the room; and Dessie thought it best not to 
 answer. Soon afterwards they both went upstairs to 
 bed; the girl realising more completely than she had yet
 
 "I Want to Know also Who You Are" 8l 
 
 done how strong and deep was the man's grip on hei 
 friend's life. 
 
 As soon as she was alone in her room she found her 
 nerves were really unstrung. She was full of apprehen- 
 sive fancies and fears. She seemed to picture the man as 
 he might have glided about the room that evening when 
 searching for the poison and hunting among her things. 
 The picture which her thoughts had painted for her of 
 that other grim search of his in the Pyrenean homestead, 
 when his thoughts were busy with the purpose of mur- 
 der, also came back to her now ; and she glanced about 
 the room as if calculating how it would adapt itself to 
 such a purpose if he were to come there to kill her. 
 
 She was so fearsome that she examined every nook 
 and cranny of the room under the bed, in the wardrobe, 
 in the cupboards, even in the large drawers, everywhere 
 where a man could possibly or impossibly hide. When 
 she had satisfied herself that no one was in the room but 
 herself she locked the doors and fastened the window; 
 and then fortified all three by placing things in such a 
 position that anyone opening either door or window 
 would be sure to make sufficient noise to wake a sleeper. 
 And when at length she got into bed, she left the gas 
 burning high enough for her to detect the slightest 
 change in the position of anything. 
 
 All this was absolutely foreign to her custom, but the 
 shock of the afternoon's attempt had unhinged her. She 
 could not sleep. As often as she dozed she fell into some 
 troubled dream from which she would wake up full of 
 nervous dread, and more than once in a clammy sweat 
 of fear. 
 
 Nothing occurred to substantiate the fears which spoilt 
 her night's rest ; and when daylight came she fell asleep 
 ,with a feeling of profound thankfulness.
 
 82 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 She rose the next morning comparatively unrefreshed, 
 of course, and with a splitting headache; and though 
 she could laugh in the daylight at her fears, and make fun 
 to herself of the elaborate preparations of the night be- 
 fore, she knew that many such nights would have serious 
 consequences to her health. But her mind was soon ab- 
 sorbed by thoughts of the appointment with de Montalt, 
 and of what she had to do before it. 
 
 Mrs. Markham was going to breakfast in her room, 
 the maid told her, and this set Dessie free pretty early. 
 Her first task was to take the little bottle of poisoned 
 tea to have it analysed ; and she started as soon as she had 
 finished her breakfast. After that she hurried on to her 
 rooms to get what letters there might be she knew 
 there would be one from Tom Cheriton and as soon as 
 she had them she had no time to read them before start- 
 ing on her return journey to South Kensington to be in 
 time for her appointment with the Count. 
 
 She travelled back by the Underground Railway and 
 read her lover's letter as she threaded her way through 
 the squares to Gower Street Station, and finished it and 
 the rest in the train. Tom's letter was a long one for 
 him cheery and bright and loving as usual ; but holding 
 out no hope of an early return. His uncle, Samuel 
 Davenant, was really ill this time, he said. Not dan- 
 gerously but lingeringly ill; and he was altogether loath 
 to let Tom out of his sight. " I think it would have 
 been a jolly good move if I'd brought you down here 
 with me," wrote Tom, " and just let him see what a 
 natty little beggar you can be when you choose. If those 
 little white fingers of yours had been busy making my 
 poor old uncle comfortable, instead of dipping into other 
 people's pies, I fancy it might have been a deal better for 
 you both, to say nothing of me. I hope, by the way, that
 
 "I Want to Know also Who You Are" 83 
 
 you're not getting your ringers too deep into that mess; 
 but I suppose I shall hear. Anyway, you'll have to man- 
 age without me for a time and perhaps a long time. 
 Oh ! how I wish you were here." 
 
 Dessie smiled at the last sentence, but frowned rather 
 wearily at that which said he was to be away a long time. 
 Then she reflected that by then he would have her letter 
 explaining that matters had taken a turn ; and she hoped 
 that in consequence he might be able to get away and 
 come to her. 
 
 There were three other letters. Two on business about 
 work some fiction and some articles that had to be writ- 
 ten while the third was in a handwriting she did not at 
 first recognise. She looked it over in that ridiculous way 
 in which people do turn over letters in a strange or for- 
 gotten handwriting; but when she opened and read it a 
 deep flush mantled in her cheeks, and an angry light 
 brightened her eyes. It was short. 
 
 " MY DEAREST DESSIE, 
 
 " Don't start with anger when you see how I address 
 you. You can never be anything else to me than dearest. 
 I have been seeking you a very long time and have only 
 just now found your address. That indeed has been al- 
 most by an accident. But I shall call and see you to- 
 morrow morning and tell you of the deep, deep love that 
 has been growing and strengthening in my heart ever 
 since we parted years ago under circumstances I am 
 now ashamed to recall. 
 
 " Ever your devoted friend, 
 
 " EDMUND LANDALE." 
 
 It was from the man of whose abominable treatment 
 of her years before she had told Dora, when warning her 
 how utterly contemptible and base some men could be; 
 and as Dessie read the letter and thought of the past and
 
 84 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 of the man's conduct her heart was full of both bitterness 
 and foreboding. He knew much, and was scoundrel 
 enough to use his knowledge for her harm. 
 
 The knowledge that he was coming again into her life 
 was galling and disheartening ; and all the time she was in 
 the train she sat brooding unhappily over the possible 
 complications and troubles that might be the result to 
 her. 
 
 Now more than ever she fretted at her lover's ab- 
 sence from London, and regretted she had not already 
 told him what had to be told. She needed his strength ; 
 the comforting assurance of his love and above all the 
 certainty that what had to be told would make no differ- 
 ence in his feelings for her. Her present mood made her 
 take the darkest and gloomiest views of everything. 
 Though there was nothing in the past disgraceful to 
 herself, yet there were undoubtedly certain things which 
 any man must hear with great regret and which many a 
 man would regard as serious obstacles to making her his 
 wife. 
 
 She felt as sure of Tom Cheriton as a woman could be 
 of a generous true fellow who loved her with all his 
 heart. She had once felt sure of this contemptible scoun- 
 drel, Landale; and Tom also had to look to his position, 
 and but at that point she broke off the thread of this 
 thought to scold herself for harbouring even an implied 
 suspicion of her lover's loyalty. But for all that she 
 could not be quite easy. 
 
 If only he had been in town that morning she would 
 have gone to him there and then and told him everything 
 without reserve. 
 
 Out of this came an impulse. She would send off the 
 telegram she had thought of the previous night in her 
 moment of panic; and as soon as she left the South
 
 85 
 
 Kensington Station she did so, urging him to run up to 
 her at once, if only for an hour or so, as something most 
 serious had occurred. 
 
 The sense that that message would bring him to her 
 help within a few hours calmed her agitation somewhat; 
 but Sir Edmund Landale's letter was altogether the worst 
 possible preparation which she could have had for the 
 interview with the Count de Montalt, and she was very 
 nervous and unstrung as she walked along the Cromwell 
 Road, and on nearing the short street leading to the 
 square caught sight of his tall powerful figure waiting 
 for her. 
 
 " You are not looking at all well, Miss Merrion," was 
 his greeting, as he looked keenly into her face he did not 
 now attempt to shake hands. " You are not fitted for 
 work of this kind." 
 
 " I have not come to discuss my looks, but to hear what 
 you wish to say to me," said Dessie, coldly. 
 
 " I admire your courage ; but at the same time the fact 
 that you have thought it wise to come shows me you can 
 temper it with a shrewd discretion." 
 
 " I have no wish to bandy words or terms with you. 
 The reason for our meeting is this. I told you yesterday 
 I should tell Mrs. Markham what I knew about you if 
 you went again to the house without giving me proofs 
 that you are not the man I say. You did go again to the 
 house, and said that you had the proofs with you. In- 
 stead of producing them, you made a dare-devil attempt 
 to poison me. I have sent the poisoned tea to be analysed, 
 so that there may be no mistake on that score. You then 
 made a desperate endeavour to get possession of the 
 poison by stealing up like a thief into my room, and ran- 
 sacking every nook and cranny. You failed; but even 
 then, unabashed, you had the hardihood to tell me you
 
 86 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 knew I had discovered your actions, but that you would 
 meet me this morning and give me the proofs you had 
 before said you could produce proofs that you are the 
 Count de Montalt, and not Rolande Lespard, the mur- 
 derer of old Paul Duvivier." 
 
 " You have an excellent faculty of direct speech, Miss 
 Merrion," said the man, with a sneer. " A trick of jour- 
 nalism, I suppose." 
 
 " Please be good enough to keep to the unpleasant sub- 
 ject that has made this meeting necessary," interrupted 
 Dessie, curtly. 
 
 " That is just the point which you have missed. But 
 to do you justice, I am not sure that you quite know what 
 that is. If you remember, I promised you something 
 more than the proofs you wanted." He stopped, and 
 looked at her with an indescribably evil smile. " Ugh ? 
 You remember now ? " 
 
 The girl waved her hand in deprecation. 
 
 " No, it is not unimportant," he said, in answer to the 
 gesture. " It is most important. It means no less than 
 that this interview may end in your arrest, Miss Merrion. 
 Your arrest on a most serious charge. You want to know 
 who I am, and will not believe that I am what I say. I 
 want also to know who you are, and why you stole 
 jewels worth thousands of pounds five years ago, and 
 have made no effort to restore them. Stole them from a 
 waiting-room at the Birmingham station on the I4th 
 of March, 1887." 
 
 For all his strange career and experiences, Dessie was 
 a far better actor than he; and though now taken in- 
 finitely by surprise, she held her feelings splendidly in 
 check, and answered in a deliberate tone and calculating 
 manner, as though recalling facts from her memory. 
 
 " The fourteenth of March the fourteenth of March.
 
 "I Want to Know also Who You Are" 87 
 
 I am not surprised you have that date well in your 
 thoughts. That was the day when you were arrested 
 for the murder of Paul Duvivier, on the very spot you 
 mention the platform of Birmingham station." 
 
 By the time she had finished her sentence, she had 
 recovered her composure. The danger of the crisis 
 quickened her wits, and she looked at him coldly and 
 sternly, as she added: 
 
 " Why do you tell me this ? I see in it no proof that 
 you are not old Duvivier's murderer. On the contrary, 
 it only shows that I am right about you."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AN OMINOUS MEETING 
 
 NEVER in all her life had Dessie Merrion had greater 
 need of all her pluck and shrewdness than at the moment 
 when she stood facing the Count de Montalt, forcing 
 down her fears and anxieties, and thinking eagerly what 
 course she should take and whether she should admit or 
 deny her possession of the jewels. 
 
 If she denied it, then her knowledge of his identity had 
 no substantial foundation; if she admitted it, he would 
 have possibly as great a power over her as she had over 
 him. She was altogether ignorant as to what the effect 
 to her might be of having kept the rubies. It was certain 
 that she had not stolen them. She believed the two let- 
 ters she had received from the woman whose bag she had 
 taken in mistake would clear her of that charge cer- 
 tainly ; but how far she was justified in retaining posses- 
 sion of them, and whether she could be punished for hav- 
 ing done so, she did not know. 
 
 But she had now to choose her course in ignorance of 
 the consequences ; and yet having once taken it she might 
 have to stick to it through thick and thin ; and the diffi- 
 culty of choice puzzled, and indeed for the moment 
 baffled and bewildered her. 
 
 All these considerations flashed through her thoughts 
 as she stood facing her antagonist and waiting for him 
 to answer; while she was conscious that the keen dark 
 eyes were searching her face to guess her thoughts. 
 
 88
 
 An Ominous Meeting 89 
 
 " This promises to be an exceptionally interesting con- 
 versation," he said, after a minute's pause. " Exception- 
 ally interesting. Shall we walk on? Standing looking 
 at one another in this way is just a little melodramatic, 
 don't you think?" 
 
 They moved on at this and after another short pause 
 he added 
 
 " Now you'll understand what I meant last night when 
 I said that you and I had better understand one another. 
 I have a considerable admiration for many of your quali- 
 ties, Miss Merrion though of course my knowledge of 
 your connection with this jewel robbery must influence 
 me when I come to think of you as a friend of my future 
 wife. But we can talk of that another time. That is 
 of the future. I want to speak of the present. What are 
 you going to do ? Are you going to force me to take the 
 unpleasant step of revealing my knowledge to Mrs. 
 Markham, and leaving you to make such explanation 
 as you please ? Or shall we let things go on as they were, 
 before I made this discovery? I am not so harsh and 
 peremptory as you were yesterday, you see. Willing 
 rather to screen you if possible." 
 
 " I am not going to stoop to ask you what you mean 
 when you insult me in this way about some discovery 
 that you pretend to have made about me. I have come to 
 meet you to get the proofs of your identity something 
 to satisfy me you are not Rolande Lespard ; and in place 
 of these you hatch up this story." 
 
 " Then I shall be under the painful necessity of in- 
 forming either Mrs. Markham or the police, or both, that 
 you are a young lady of very questionable antecedents, 
 one of whose exploits undoubtedly was to be concerned 
 in the robbery of verv valuable jewels in March, five 
 years ago."
 
 90 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie smiled at this as she answered, 
 
 " I am not much disposed to think that you will go 
 any nearer to a policeman than you are obliged. But 
 please yourself. I have made up my mind in this matter. 
 I have wired this morning to ask Mr. Cheriton to come 
 up to London at once, and I shall then lay the whole facts 
 before him. Till then I shall do nothing. After then, 
 you can do what you please. I have no more to say, and 
 as you have not done what you said should be done at 
 this interview, I prefer not to prolong it." With that 
 she turned away abruptly, and left him, without giving 
 him time to reply. 
 
 Her one thought, desire and policy now was to see 
 Tom, and tell him everything. 
 
 The Count stood and stared after her in anger and 
 astonishment at her sudden decision ; and at first he made 
 a step or two as if to follow her. But he checked him- 
 self, and turned away, thinking rapidly. 
 
 " If the two once get together before I have com- 
 pleted such a case as I can make up against her, I shall 
 be beaten," he muttered to himself. " It's all gone splen- 
 didly up to now up to the time of this sharp-eyed, keen- 
 witted, plucky little beggar coming in to spoil everything. 
 I'll do as I thought go to her rooms, and ransack the 
 place see what I can find." With that he hailed a han- 
 som, and told the man to drive fast to the address of 
 Dessie Merrion's rooms. 
 
 There, a little impudence, a lie or two, and a tip im- 
 posed upon the woman housekeeper, so that he gained 
 admission to the girl's three rooms. He said that she 
 was coming back directly to meet him, and had given 
 him the key of the rooms. He produced a card of hers, 
 on which he had pencilled, in writing meant to resemble
 
 An Ominous Meeting 91 
 
 hers, an instruction to let the bearer wait in the rooms. 
 When the key he produced would not fit the lock, he made 
 an excuse to the woman that Dessie had obviously given 
 him the wrong one; whereupon, she opened the door for 
 him. 
 
 " Miss Merrion didn't tell me as you was coming, sir, 
 not when she was here for her letters jes' now ; leastways 
 1 hour or so ago. But I suppose it's all right." 
 
 " My good woman, do I look as if it could be all 
 wrong ? " asked de Montalt, and his handsome looks, 
 fashionably cut clothes, and pleasant smile quite disarmed 
 her. " If you'd feel more comfortable to see me sitting 
 on the stairs, and whistling, instead of in this very com- 
 fortable armchair, I've no objection. I'll do anything to 
 oblige so manifestly kind and pleasant a lady as your- 
 self. But personally, I prefer the chair ; " and he smiled 
 again, in a way that convinced the woman there could be 
 no guile behind it. Then, as she was leaving the room, 
 he added, to give the matter an added touch of genuine- 
 ness, " By the way, if a gentleman calls before Miss Mer- 
 rion should get here it's a rather important business 
 matter that we're to meet about you'd better let him 
 come up at once." 
 
 " Very well, sir, said the woman, the smile on the 
 man's face broadening as the door closed behind her. 
 
 He sat still, listening to her footsteps go down the 
 staircase, and then opening the door very quietly, he put 
 his head out, and listened more intently still. He heard 
 her moving about in the lower part of the house; and 
 then he closed the door again, shot the bolt on the inside, 
 and set vigorously to work on the task which he had come 
 to accomplish. 
 
 Less than half an hour's rapid but most systematic
 
 92 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 search convinced him that he had better concentrate his 
 attention on the safe, and that there was little or nothing 
 of any consequence to be found outside it. 
 
 One sharp glance at the safe told him that it would not 
 give him much trouble. It was a cheap, well-painted 
 thing got up to sell and called burglar-proof. But the 
 plates were little thicker than sheet tin, while the vulner- 
 able spots to those who know where to look for them were 
 many. And the Count de Montalt knew well enough. 
 
 " I could open this thing with an oyster knife, even 
 if I couldn't pick the lock with a bent nail," he said to 
 himself with a contemptuous laugh when he had exam- 
 ined it closely; and after some half hour's ingenious 
 work he succeeded in picking the lock. 
 
 He commenced instantly to overhaul its contents; and 
 taking them out he went through them very carefully. 
 What he found interested him deeply and more than once 
 as he read some of the papers and glanced at the nature 
 of others, he smiled in self-congratulation at his dis- 
 coveries. 
 
 He was completely absorbed in the work, and he thus 
 started violently when some one rapped smartly at the 
 door, tried the handle, and then, finding it locked, 
 knocked again. 
 
 " Can this be the girl ; or I hope not that bluster- 
 ing lover of hers, Cheriton ? " he said to himself in alarm. 
 " If it is there'll be a scrimmage in all probability." 
 
 While he was thinking he was also acting quickly. He 
 bundled all the unimportant papers back into the safe, 
 and closed the door; thrust a few into the pocket of his 
 coat, which he put on again quickly, removed as many 
 traces of his work as possible, and then sat down in the 
 arm chair, and waited for the knock to be repeated. 
 When it came again, he yawned very loudly, got up
 
 He commenced instantly to overhaul its contents. 
 
 0*.
 
 An Ominous Meeting 93 
 
 and opened the door, with the expression on his face as 
 if he had just awoke, while his hand concealed a 
 smothered yawn. 
 
 " Beg your pardon. Hope you haven't been knocking 
 long. But the truth was I got tired waiting and dropped 
 off into a snooze." As he spoke he was eyeing very 
 keenly the new comer, a middle-sized, dapper-looking, 
 well-groomed man, who seemed considerably astonished 
 at his reception. 
 
 " Wonder who the devil you are," was de Montalt's 
 inward comment. " Won't you come in ? " he asked, 
 seeing the man hesitate. 
 
 " Are not these Miss Merrion's rooms ? " asked the 
 visitor. 
 
 " Not the lover, evidently," thought the Count much 
 relieved, as he replied aloud, " Of course they are. She'll 
 be here in a minute or two. Come in. She should be 
 here now, only you know what women's punctuality is. 
 I expect you're the man she said was coming," and he 
 held out his hand for the card which he saw in the 
 other's hand. " Oh ! Landale Sir Edmund Landale 
 yes, of course. Well, I don't know whether that was the 
 name she said. Oh! yes, Landale, of course," as some 
 references in the papers he had just been reading flashed 
 across his thoughts. 
 
 " I wrote and said I should be here this morning." 
 
 " The devil you did," thought his hearer ; " then I 
 wonder if she's coming back to meet you." But aloud he 
 replied " Yes, I know. Well, I am absolutely in her 
 confidence now, and whatever you have to say may as 
 well be said through me, Sir Edmund." 
 
 The baronet looked infinitely surprised at this, and his 
 feeling found expression in a long stare which the other 
 man met with a bland and courteous expression.
 
 94 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 "Do you mean that Miss Merrion told you the pur- 
 port of my letter, Mr. Mr. I didn't catch your name? " 
 
 " No. I haven't mentioned it. De Montalt, my name 
 is the Count de Montalt. I daresay you know it." 
 
 " No, I never heard it. But may I ask what relation 
 you stand in toward Miss Merrion ? " 
 
 " Well, I am afraid that that would be a little difficult 
 to explain," was the very truthful answer, continued 
 untruthfully. " You can judge pretty well that as I am 
 here in her rooms alone waiting for her we're not stran- 
 gers. I assure you you can speak with absolute con- 
 fidence." 
 
 " Do you mean that you know the object of my visit? " 
 
 " No, I can't say that, or I could give you an answer 
 without waiting for you to say a word. But, of course, 
 I know of your former friendship for her." 
 
 " You mean that I was engaged to be married to her? " 
 
 " What else should I mean ? " answered De Montalt, 
 with a shrug of the shoulders. But he had only made a 
 shot on the strength of an entry or two in an old diary 
 he had seen. 
 
 " And you know why it was broken off ? " said the 
 other eagerly. 
 
 " I have heard, but for the moment I forget. It left 
 you very low down in her esteem, as you can imagine." 
 This was another shot founded on a reference to the 
 baronet which he had discovered. 
 
 " Do you mean she is still bitter ? " 
 
 " What else would she be ? You know her," was the 
 answer, spoken with a very expressive and significant 
 laugh. 
 
 " You are really her intimate friend, and I can speak 
 openly to you ? " asked Landale, after a moment's pause. 
 
 "You must please yourself about that. I seek no
 
 An Ominous Meeting 95 
 
 man's confidence against his will. You and I are stran- 
 gers personally; I don't know what your motive may be. 
 You may have a motive that in my opinion is altogether 
 bad. I think I'd rather not hear anything. Of course I 
 know you by name, and anyone might well be anxious 
 to give you a lift in any particular. I know Miss Mer- 
 rion's affairs pretty intimately, as I told you ; but what 
 she would wish me to tell you is another matter." 
 
 It was a cleverly worded speech, intended to make the 
 other man eager to speak; and it succeeded. 
 
 " Well, to tell you the truth," said the baronet, after a 
 few moments' reflection, as he threw himself into a chair, 
 " there are several questions I'd much rather put to you 
 than to her." 
 
 " If I can help you, fire away. Only don't tell me any- 
 thing you feel the least compunction about, and mind," 
 he added, interrupting the baronet as he was about to 
 speak, " I don't bind myself to answer a single question." 
 
 " I want to know whether Miss Merrion has any 
 love affair ? " He coloured slightly under the Count's 
 sharp gaze. 
 
 " I can't answer that until I know your motive," said 
 the latter, as if suspiciously. 
 
 " My motive's plain enough," returned the baronet, 
 speaking more freely now that the ice was broken. " I 
 want to renew the old engagement." 
 
 " Phew I " whistled the other. " The deuce you do. 
 Then why on earth did you ever break it off ? " 
 
 " Because I was a fool for one thing, and because I 
 thought the taint of old Marlow's crime would stick to 
 his daughter." 
 
 "What's that?" exclaimed the Count, jumping to his 
 feet in profound astonishment and staring open-eyed at 
 the speaker. Then recovering- himself with a supreme
 
 96 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 effort, he let out a tremendous oath, and exclaimed, as 
 if relieving his infinite indignation, " Do you mean you 
 were such a confounded cad as that? I beg your pardon. 
 Of course it's no affair of mine. Excuse my heat. But 
 for the moment I lost self-control." It was a cleverly 
 acted scene to hide from the other man the almost uncon- 
 trollable excitement which his words had caused. 
 
 " You can answer my questions or not, as you please, 
 sir," exclaimed Sir Edmund Landale, angrily, " but in 
 either case I beg you will spare me the unpleasantness of 
 your personal comment." 
 
 " Certainly I will," returned the Count. He had 
 regained self-control now and spoke quite in his usual 
 manner. " I apologise. I am one of the most excitable 
 fools on earth, and I constantly blurt out what a mo- 
 ment's reflection shows me is a fool's verdict. I may say 
 at once, however, that in speaking to Miss Merrion on 
 this subject I have more than once pointed out to her 
 that you had practically no other course open to you." 
 
 " I don't need your advocacy any more than your criti- 
 cism, thank you. I ought not to have spoken at all, 
 probably." 
 
 " That is for yourself to consider," returned de Mon- 
 talt, with quiet firmness; and he added with much ap- 
 parent candour, " I will answer you very fully now, 
 I am afraid you have no chance of renewing the old en- 
 gagement, in the ordinary way. Miss Merrion is en- 
 gaged to be married to a Mr. Tom Cheriton, a barrister, 
 and they are hoping to be married soon. But I do not 
 like him, and if I could do something to hinder the match 
 I would, with all my heart. I don't know whether you " 
 he paused, leaving the sentence unfinished, save for a 
 look. 
 
 A child could have seen that the blow struck hard.
 
 An Ominous Meeting 97 
 
 "Are you ?" began Sir Edmund, hesitating. 
 
 " I am engaged to marry Miss Merrion's best friend, 
 Mrs. Markham, of Edgcumbe Square, where Miss Mer- 
 rion is now stopping. -If I can help you in any way, I 
 will, and I think I can; but " he stopped, and looked 
 very grave. 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " Is this much to you? " 
 
 " I have been looking for Dessie Merrion for over a 
 year simply to get her to marry me." 
 
 " Well the way I have in my thoughts is not a pleasant 
 way, and you might shy at it. But I don't think this fel- 
 low Cheriton means well by her, and I would do anything 
 to stop the match." 
 
 " What is it? " asked Landale. 
 
 " Well, it's pretty much on the lines of what you did 
 before, but a bit different, of course. Naturally nothing 
 but a very strong desire to promote her real good would 
 justify a step of the kind. But I'm bound to say that I'm 
 one of those men who look to the end to be achieved. -I 
 want to save Miss Merrion from a man whom I know to 
 be unworthy of her, and in such a case I don't stick at 
 the means. But you may be different ; and, of course, I 
 wouldn't for the world drag you in against your will." 
 
 The baronet was silent, and sat chewing the ends of his 
 moustache, which he thrust between his lips with white 
 taper fingers that trembled. 
 
 " You say they mean to be married soon ? " he asked, 
 weakly, trifling with the temptation. 
 
 " Yes, of course, that's just the deuce of it. If there 
 was plenty of time, one might open her eyes in some 
 other way to the man's real character. But as it is, before 
 one can do anything, she'll be his wife." 
 
 The other man winced at this word.
 
 98 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " Of course, you understand I shouldn't let your hand 
 really appear in it at all, at first," continued de Montalt. 
 " I shouldn't think that good tactics. She'd be suspicion* 
 possibly, and everything might be spoilt." 
 
 The bait was taken, with that addition. 
 
 " You haven't told me yet what it is you propose." 
 
 "It's simply a judicious use of that past of hers. I 
 can use the knowledge in such a way as to put an end 
 to this; but, of course, to do this one must have all the 
 details pat, and some of them have slipped from my 
 memory, while others -I don't know. You would not ap- 
 pear until later, and then I promise you I can so use the 
 facts that she will be glad to welcome you as a friend, 
 knowing all and ready to take her as she really is. She 
 loved you dearly in the past, and her love would live 
 again, if only this Cheriton entanglement were out of the 
 way." 
 
 " What do you want me to do, then ? " said the baronet, 
 quickly. 
 
 " Nothing more than just fill in the gaps, and cross the 
 t's, and dot the i's of the knowledge I already have of that 
 that Marlow business. Then you can leave me to do 
 the rest, and stand aside till I give you the cue. The 
 girl will thank us all her life long when once her first 
 temper's over." 
 
 Then the Count drew his chair closer to the other man, 
 and listened to what he had thus schemed so daringly and 
 cleverly to learn. And as he listened he saw, in his 
 thoughts, the web that he could weave mesh by mesh, 
 round the girl who had tried to thwart him.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "l KNOW YOUR WHOLE STORY " 
 
 As soon as the story was finished, and it did not take 
 long in the telling, the Count sent Sir Edmund Landale 
 away with a promise to communicate with him the mo- 
 ment there was anything to tell; and as the latter went 
 down the stairway, his companion looked after him with 
 a leer on his face that was a mixture of triumph for the 
 success that he had gained, and contempt for the man 
 whom he had outwitted in the effort. 
 
 Then he returned to the room, and took great pains 
 to replace everything in the position in which he had 
 found it, so far as his memory served him. The safe 
 alone baffled him, as he could not re-lock it. 
 
 He had now been so long in the rooms that he was 
 convinced there was no fear of Dessie's returning to dis- 
 turb him; and he, therefore, drew his chair to the table 
 to make a few rapid notes of the conversation with the 
 baronet. When completed, he compared them with the 
 papers he had taken from the safe, and sat thinking out 
 the best plan of procedure. 
 
 He was in high spirits. The luck was with him indeed, 
 ind as an old gambler his maxim was to back it for all he 
 was worth. This was just such a position as seemed to 
 justify him piling on every stake he could command. 
 
 " I don't see how I can lose," he thought, as he leant 
 back in his chair. " If I know anything of human na- 
 ture, that girl's as staunch and true as a girl can be ; and 
 
 99
 
 I oo The Heritage of Peril 
 
 she'll go through fire and water rather than betray any- 
 one. Gad, what a blessed thing it is some people are so 
 mfernally good that a pledge once given they'll keep it 
 sx any sacrifice. But now, there's one thing absolutely 
 critical, and only one thing she mustn't see Cheriton till 
 my cards are tabled. Then perhaps she won't want to. 
 I wish I knew what she'd wired him this morning. Won- 
 der if I dare wire him. No, by heaven, I have it " and 
 he dashed his fist violently down on the table " I'll get 
 away to South Kensington, and find out whether he's 
 coming up, and if he is, I'll slip out and send a bogus 
 telegram to her in a name that'll make her jump out of 
 her skin, and then deal with the man. By Jove, the 
 game's getting worth playing for itself, to say nothing 
 of the stakes and they're heavy enough to boot." 
 
 He smiled more than once as he thought of his latest 
 device, and made ready to go. 
 
 " By the way, just as well not to leave too broad a trail 
 behind me here, in the shape of evidence. I'll get back 
 that card I gave the old frump of a housekeeper." For 
 this purpose he went down into the housekeeper's room 
 and engaged her in conversation, saying he should wait 
 no longer, while he glanced about him for the card. As 
 soon as he saw where it was he went and stood near it, 
 and after distracting the woman's attention from his 
 actions, he put it and the baronet's card that lay with it 
 quietly into his pocket. Then, giving the woman a 
 couple of shillings, he left. 
 
 "Lucky I found this in my search in her ladyship's 
 room last night," he muttered, as he took out the card, 
 tore it into a hundred pieces and tossed them into the 
 gutter. " It's always well to have an eye for the possible 
 value of little things." 
 
 He was in the act of calling a cab when he remem-
 
 "I Know Your Whole Story" 101 
 
 bered that he had not lunched; and as he made a rule 
 never to neglect any matter of personal comfort, he 
 turned and set out in search of a restaurant that was 
 good enough to accord with his taste. 
 
 He lunched well, and had a glass or two of good wine, 
 tried one of the best cigars which the place could offer 
 him, abused the waiter for not giving him a better, and 
 then, in a thoroughly comfortable frame of mind he went 
 out, hailed a cab and was driven off to Edgcumbe Square. 
 
 His main anxiety now was whether Cheriton " the 
 lover," as he called him somewhat contemptuously in 
 thought would have come up in response to Dessie's 
 telegram. " If he has, there will be a kettle of fish," he 
 mused, " and my line will not be quite so clear as it might 
 be. I don't think I have left it too late " a glance at a 
 clock as he passed showed him the time to be nearly three 
 o'clock " and after all, with the knowledge I have now, 
 I need not be much troubled if she has already told him. 
 The story will take some time in the telling, too. She's a 
 plucky little beggar, no doubt; but she'll need all her 
 nerve to pull her through that business. And after it's 
 over, I don't see what the man's going to do except 
 hold his tongue and buy me over. Still, I'd rather deal 
 with the girl than the man. Women lose their heads, 
 and make mistakes so much more frequently." 
 
 From this his thoughts travelled to the woman he was 
 pledged to marry. " Poor Dora, what a soft-headed, 
 tender-hearted, mass of consummate vanity she is! I 
 wonder how much money she has got. It's worth a lot 
 to marry her and settle down like grits in a wine glass. 
 Sink everything. Lord, what would life be like, tied to a 
 golden doll like that if one meant to live it convention- 
 ally. She loves me ; that's one thing. That's my strong 
 card there ; and I believe her love or at least her vanity,
 
 102 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 which makes her think I live but for her silly self would 
 make her stick to me through thick and thin ; ay, through 
 everything, or at least almost everything." 
 
 He smiled and showed his white even teeth, and then 
 admired himself in the little looking-glass in the cab, and 
 glancing out, ogled a pretty girl who was passing. Then 
 he harked back in thought to his plans, and in this broken, 
 desultory fashion continued to muse. 
 
 He was a man of implacable purpose ; but he preferred 
 to seek it by the leaps and bounds which impulse 
 prompted rather than by the steady, deliberate methods 
 of close calculation. He was capable of perpetrating any 
 crime, however desperate and daring, almost on the spur 
 of the moment ; and he would carry through any scheme 
 once conceived, however venturesome and hazardous. 
 Thus he would often succeed by sheer dash and bravado, 
 where another man of more set purpose and steady deter- 
 mination might fail. 
 
 He was indeed a more dangerous man to deal with than 
 one who laid his plans with consistent forethought. It 
 was impossible to estimate what step he would take. He 
 had an infinite quickness in seeing and seizing an oppor- 
 tunity, an equal capacity in turning it to account, and a 
 reckless readiness in the adoption of his means. But he 
 often wearied of his objects before he had gained them. 
 
 The whole of this marriage scheme was the outcome of 
 a merely chance encounter. He had seen George Vezey 
 and his friend in the middle of a row with Belgian sailors, 
 and perceiving that if he rescued them he could probably 
 turn the connection to personal advantage, he had dashed 
 in and saved them without a thought of the danger to 
 himself. When he had done it he began to consider how 
 he could best make them pay the price of the service he 
 had rendered. He followed them to Ostend, saw Mrs.
 
 "I Know Your Whole Story" 103 
 
 Markham, read her at a glance, and forthwith resolved to 
 marry her for the sake of her money. He succeeded al- 
 most instantly ; and all was going well when Dessie Mer- 
 rion threatened to stop him. 
 
 To do that was to rouse all the devil in him. His first 
 instinct was to silence her at any cost. When she had 
 shown herself determined to baulk him, he had thought 
 no more of trying to kill her than of kicking a mad dog 
 that threatened to bite him. 
 
 His one feeling in regard to that attempt was infinite 
 anger that he had failed. The drug he had chosen was 
 one that would have been exceedingly difficult to trace, 
 and he cursed his folly for having bungled. 
 
 Meanwhile, his suspicions that the girl herself had cer- 
 tain things to hide in her past had been aroused, in con- 
 sequence of something that had fallen from her in their 
 first conversation ; and when it was necessary to go to 
 her room to search for the poisoned tea, he had used the 
 opportunity to rummage her boxes for any paper or ref- 
 erence that would give him the clue. He had found a 
 clue to the fact that she was the girl who got hold of the 
 jewels that day when he had been arrested at Birming- 
 ham, and this had determined him to find out more. 
 
 This he had done in much greater detail than he had 
 anticipated, thanks to the shrewd stroke of overhauling 
 Dessie's rooms, and the information which had been 
 given him by Sir Edmund Landale. He quite appre- 
 ciated that man's petty and malignant scoundrelism, even 
 while he himself resolved to make use alike of the man 
 and his knowledge. What he had learnt had been much 
 increased by the way it had fitted in with many other facts 
 already in his possession; and he now felt that he was 
 almost certain to win. 
 
 When the cab stopped at Mrs. Markham's house he
 
 1 04 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 jumped out, tossed the man a liberal fare he was always 
 generous with cabmen and all who ministered to his com- 
 fort and ran confidently up the steps of the splendid 
 house. 
 
 The servant, quick to recognise the rising sun and bow 
 down to it, was very deferential, and told him that Mrs. 
 Markham was not at home, but had left a message ask- 
 ing him to wait should he call in her absence. 
 
 He went in, as though he were already master of the 
 house, and strolled into the library to smoke. 
 
 " Is Miss Merrion in ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, sir," was the reply. " She waited in because she 
 is expecting a visitor, sir Mr. Cheriton." 
 
 "Good! I'm first," he thought, and then added: 
 " Tell her, with my compliments stay, where is she i " 
 
 " In the small drawing-room, sir." 
 
 7< Ah ! I'll go to her myself. No, don't bother to an- 
 nounce me. I know the way well enough." And hum- 
 ming a gay Venetian barcarolle, he went up the mag- 
 nificent staircase, and with a smile on his lips opened the 
 door. 
 
 Dessie was sitting waiting for Tom Cheriton, and 
 when the door opened she looked up with a glow of ex- 
 pectation in her face; but the light died out sharply in 
 her disappointment at seeing that instead of the man she 
 loved it was the man of all others she hated and feared. 
 
 She got up at once to leave the room, resolved not to 
 remain alone with him. 
 
 " I wish to speak to you," he said, barring her path. 
 
 " I will not stay in the room with you. I don't feel 
 safe alone." He understood the reference and laughed. 
 
 " And your instincts are about as true as they can be, 
 too. You are not safe in a room alone with me. But
 
 " I Know Your Whole Story " 105 
 
 you will run more danger just now in leaving the room 
 than in stopping here." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I insist on your allowing me to pass. 
 This is monstrous. Would you have me ring for the as- 
 sistance of the servants ? " 
 
 He looked at her during a long pause of silence, while 
 she faced him, her anger bringing quick flushes to her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " You are right. It would be monstrous to ring for 
 the servants. It would be scandalous, grossly scandal- 
 ous, for you " he flashed a threat at her " for you, 
 Miss Marlow, now, do you wish to go? " 
 
 He stood aside, opened the door, bowed low with one 
 of his gestures of exaggerated politeness, and laid his 
 hand to his heart. 
 
 But the mere mention of the name had conquered the 
 girl, who all white and trembling had sunk down on the 
 nearest chair. 
 
 " You are very foolish to drive me to give you these 
 sharp thrusts, young lady," he said, closing the door and 
 going near her. " Very foolish. But your self-will has 
 to be broken in. "Now you will understand that things 
 are very different from what they were when we met this 
 morning, and when you are sufficiently recovered to be 
 able to hear me out I will tell you what you had better 
 know before your expected visitor arrives I mean Mr. 
 Cheriton." 
 
 The mention of her lover's name was to the girl like 
 the turn of a bayonet in a wound, and a low cry of pain 
 escaped her. 
 
 The sight was painful even to the man who had caused 
 the trouble. He hated the sight of sorrow, and especially 
 was the distress of women unpleasant. It did not soften
 
 io6 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 him in the slightest. Had the girl been actually dying 
 he would still have carried out his plan. It was neces- 
 sary to his project to remove this particular obstacle from 
 his course, and remove it he would in any way that 
 offered itself. He would have preferred a way that 
 made others' trouble and sorrow as slight as possible 
 or that would at any rate have kept him out of personal 
 contact with the evidences of the trouble. But if no 
 other way was open save this, then he must endure the 
 discomfort of witnessing the distress of the girl who 
 ventured to oppose him. 
 
 He prided himself a little upon this selfish sensibility, 
 regarding it rather as softness of heart; and he took it 
 for a point in his own favour that so far from gloating 
 over Bessie's humiliation he was sorry for her. 
 
 " I am very sorry to have to cause you this pain," he 
 said, in a voice that was very sympathetic, " and, believe 
 me, I would not have done it if you had not forced me. 
 Even now I am quite ready to proclaim a truce. I would 
 so much rather be your friend than " 
 
 The hypocrisy of this profession stung the girl into 
 protest. She looked up, her face grey and her lips trem- 
 bling, and tried to keep her voice steady as she said: 
 
 " Say what you have come to say, but spare me these 
 falsehoods about your personal feelings. You have so 
 far beaten me that I shall listen quietly to you." 
 
 " I know your whole story," he answered " and I will 
 tell you plainly what use I mean to make of it."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE PAST 
 
 " I AM bound to say, Miss Merrion " the Count 
 paused as he mentioned the name, and then interpolated 
 " I will use that name, of course, until you compel me 
 to use any other I am bound to admit, I repeat, that the 
 luck has been against you heavily in this matter very 
 heavily. In fact, I've had it all. I don't know what 
 your philosophy of life is -I should like to know it in- 
 deed, because your life, like mine, has been a varied one 
 but my philosophy is, that it's not a bit of good to fight 
 against one's luck. I used to do it," he said, airily, " and 
 to kick against the pricks ; tried to take the bit in my 
 teeth, and used to swear that I'd go my own way, but " 
 
 " Will you please say what concerns me, not what con- 
 cerns you ? " interrupted Dessie, curtly. 
 
 " I am not speaking without a purpose, believe me," he 
 retorted. " I never do in a thing of this sort ; and I'm 
 not wasting time. You've had rather a knockdown blow ; 
 there are some more to come ; and it's no use my begin- 
 ning to talk seriously till you've quite recovered the full 
 use of your faculties. You've got an ugly corner to turn 
 and a heavy decision to make and I don't want to tell 
 you the facts till you're quite yourself. Some people 
 may like to take advantage of a girl at the moment when 
 her senses are half numbed by the effects of the first blow. 
 But I don't want that. I want you to think while I'm 
 
 107
 
 io8 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 talking and be ready, when I've done, to make a final 
 answer." 
 
 " I am perfectly ready to listen, and perfectly capable 
 of understanding all you may say," returned Dessie. 
 " But I wish you to be as quick as possible." 
 
 " I don't know that there is much for me to say after 
 all," said de Montalt, speaking slowly and meditatively. 
 " You will understand, of course, that there are certain 
 parts of the narrative in which I have not yet all the de- 
 tails. For instance, -I do not know all the contents of 
 your safe at the Safe Deposit Company but I know you 
 have one there, and that it is in the name shall I men- 
 tion it again ? " he stopped abruptly, dropped his voice, 
 having noted her start at the mention of the safe, and 
 glanced about him, as if to suggest that it might be pru- 
 dent to mention no more details than were necessary, 
 even though they were alone. 
 
 Her answer gave him the first clue to the line which 
 she was likely to take. 
 
 " You may mention anything and everything," she 
 said. " It is quite obvious that whatever has to be 
 told about me must be told in full. Say what you 
 like." 
 
 " I don't agree with you," he answered, sharply ; but 
 her reply shook a little of his confidence. " You have 
 much to learn yet. Well, then, the name in which you 
 rent the safe is Marlow Dorothy Marlow; by a coin- 
 cidence, the name from which you were flying that March 
 afternoon five years ago, when passing through Birming- 
 ham Station you stole some valuable jewels, very valu- 
 able jewels no others than the Rubies of Rohilkund." 
 
 Dessie moved, as if going to protest, but said nothing. 
 
 " The father of Dorothy Marlow was one Anthony 
 Marlow, at one time a man in a good position and reputed
 
 The Shadow of the Past I og 
 
 wealthy. He was a bank manager until one day two per- 
 sons called for him, and he stepped straight from the 
 bank parlour into the police cell, passing on to a convict 
 prison to work out his heavy sentence for forgery. He 
 didn't die in prison, as his friends might well have wished 
 him to; but came out to be a curse to his family a 
 drunkard, a swindler, and a thief of the lowest kind. His 
 wife, like a fool, clung to him, and never till his death 
 ceased to believe in the possibility of his repentance. But 
 why go on? you know the tale, and it only blisters the 
 tongue to tell it now. He made the whole of his family 
 utterly miserable, abandoned, and wretched." 
 
 Dessie had listened with her eyes closed and her fin- 
 gers clasped rigidly, and when he paused a moment, the 
 room seemed first to grow dark, and then to swim; 
 noises sounded in her ears, and she feared she was going 
 to faint. 
 
 He noticed the change in her. 
 
 " I would rather say no more," he said. 
 
 " Go on," she replied, after a minute's struggle for self- 
 mastery, the words slipping out between lips all dry and 
 compressed in her pain. 
 
 " As you will. His son, who had been placed in a 
 good position by friends, was led away by the man and 
 shot in a burgling affray. His daughters there were 
 
 two " with a smothered sob the girl put up her hands 
 
 and covered her face, pressing it with all her strength 
 " his daughters took different paths. One stuck by the 
 
 home and the mother, but the elder No, it," 
 
 he cried, breaking off excitedly. " I'm not going on with 
 this any further. Enough that I know the whole story. 
 You can see that." With that he got up and went to one 
 of the windows and stood there to give the girl time to 
 recover herself.
 
 1 1 o The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie sat mazed with the pain and sorrow that the 
 scene caused. Everything that she had striven so jeal- 
 ously to hide, every horrible outline of the grim skeleton 
 that she had thought locked safe away in the secrecy of 
 her own heart, was known; and known to this man of 
 all others, who was resolved and eager to use it all solely 
 as his own interests prompted. 
 
 The smart of having the old wounds torn open with this 
 cruel hand was mingled now with the recognition of her 
 own helplessness and overthrow, and the two together 
 seemed to turn every vein in her body into a throbbing 
 course of racking torture, leaving no sense active save 
 that of suffering. 
 
 After a long interval of silence she said : 
 
 " I am ready to listen again. I accept that you know 
 much. What do you intend to do with your knowledge ? " 
 
 " I am sick of this scene," he said. " I will make a 
 bargain with you secrecy for secrecy. You harbour a 
 number of altogether unfounded suspicions against me; 
 I know the truth about you. I will hold my tongue if 
 you agree to put aside as impossible your suspicions, and, 
 of course, make reparation." 
 
 " Reparation ? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " The jewels that were stolen in Birmingham were 
 stolen from me in the first instance. They must be re- 
 stored, of course." 
 
 " How did you get them ? " asked Dessie, with an in- 
 stinct of suspicion. 
 
 " You had better not ask," was the reply. " The story 
 will not make pleasant hearing for anyone for you es- 
 pecially." 
 
 Dessie looked at him quickly. She feared him more 
 than ever. The knowledge of her history which he had
 
 The Shadow of the Past 1 1 1 
 
 already shown that he possessed made her view the in- 
 sinuation in his words with a fresh and sickening dread. 
 To her he had become a man whose threats were never 
 empty ones, and whose acts were only sure to be more 
 deadly than his words. 
 
 She sat and thought as connectedly as her intense 
 agitation would permit; but she could only see her way 
 to one course. 
 
 "I can do nothing by myself now," she said, after a 
 long pause. " I told you this morning that Mr. Cheriton 
 would be here to-day and that I should tell him every- 
 thing. That determination is strengthened by what you 
 have said. I thought he would have been here now " 
 
 As she was speaking a knock at the door interrupted 
 her, and a servant came in with a telegram. 
 
 " A telegram for you, Miss," said the man. Dessie 
 took it, and with fingers still trembling tore it open, the 
 man waiting to see if any reply was to be sent. 
 
 " There is no answer," she said ; and the Count de 
 Montalt, who was watching and listening with every 
 nerve at full tension, detected in the voice and manner a 
 tone of disappointment. 
 
 While the servant went out and closed the door behind 
 him Dessie made a big fight for self-control, but couldn't 
 get it. The whole world seemed to have deserted her, 
 and though she would have given all she was worth to 
 have hidden her emotion from the man who was watch- 
 ing her and waiting for her to speak, she could not re- 
 press the evidence of her trouble that made her lips trem- 
 ble and her voice falter. 
 
 " Mr. Cheriton is is detained, and cannot come to me 
 till till to-morrow. I can, therefore, do nothing till 
 then. And now excuse me. -I am upset."
 
 112 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 She was hurrying out of the room when the door was 
 opened, this time quickly, and Mrs. Markham came fcur- 
 rying in. 
 
 " Oh, Godefroi, I am so sorry to be so late," she began, 
 but seeing Dessie's white face and agitated look she 
 stopped and cried, " Whatever's the matter? Dessie, 
 what is it? Have you two been quarrelling?" 
 
 " Not in the least," said the Count, quietly. " We 
 have simply been keeping each other company till you 
 came home. And now," he smiled, as if most indul- 
 gently, " I am sorry to say that Miss Merrion has had a 
 little disappointment of a kind which you and I can sym- 
 pathise with, Dora. Mr. Cheriton was to have been here 
 this afternoon." He smiled again, and looked into Mrs. 
 Markham's face lovingly as he carried her hand to his 
 lips, and then turning, opened the door for Dessie to go 
 away. " Better news to-morrow, Miss Merrion," he said, 
 as she went out; and the expression of his voice, the 
 emphasis on the name, and the phrase he chose, were all 
 understood by the miserable girl as she ran upstairs, her 
 grief half choking her. 
 
 Mrs. Markham stared after her in astonishment, and 
 then turned to her lover to put her feelings into words. 
 
 " Are you sure you haven't been saying anything to 
 upset her, Godefroi ? " she asked. " I've never known 
 her take such a fit into her head before. She's" gener- 
 ally so cool and self-reserved about Mr. Cheriton. I've 
 often wondered, indeed, whether she really loves him 
 very deeply." 
 
 " Do you mean that if we were apart, and you ex- 
 pected me to come to you as I would at your lightest 
 nod and I was to telegraph, ' I cannot come,' that you 
 would just" toss that pretty head and pout these ruby
 
 The Shadow of the Past 1 1 3 
 
 lips " kissing them " and say, ' Let him come, or let 
 him stay away, it is all one to me ? ' Is that what you 
 would do ? " 
 
 She was clinging to him, looking up into his face, and 
 she sighed and then smiled, coaxingly, as she asked : 
 
 " And if -I were to ? And if you got to know it- 
 would it make you rery, very unhappy, Godef roi ? " 
 
 He smiled down into her eyes before he answered, and 
 taking her face in his hands, held it upturned to him. 
 
 tl If I thought you could ever grow indifferent to me, 
 not caring whether I were with you or away, Dora," he 
 answered, slowly, and as if with deep feeling, " I should 
 not care to live. -I cannot bear to think of it, my dear." 
 And he stooped and kissed her again, passionately. Then 
 he held her at arm's length, still looking lovingly into her 
 face. " And to think, sweetheart, that we have been so 
 long in the world and have been able to live without the 
 exquisite delight of this mutual love of ours. Ah ! what 
 a life we will have together in the future. What revenge 
 we will take upon the past ! How happy we will be. I 
 wish we were married, Dora. I hate this study of the 
 conventions this waiting." 
 
 His tender tone and passionate kisses thrilled her. 
 
 "It shall be when you will," she answered, submis- 
 sively. 
 
 " Do you know why I wish it ? Come, and sit down ; 
 I'll tell you. Of course, it's only a stupid lover's fears, 
 but the feeling has been haunting me all day, and I said 
 to myself, ' I will tell my sweetheart.' Do you know, 
 Dora, I have the thought that love is never love until each 
 can tell the other the littlenesses and weaknesses that 
 make up half cf one's life. This is a weakness." 
 
 " I can never think of weakness in connection with you,
 
 114 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Godefroi. You always seem to me so strong, so self- 
 reliant, so resolute but I shall love to hear of a weak- 
 ness," and she laughed in sheer childish happiness. 
 
 " It was only a dream of mine. Something last night 
 must have made me very thoughtful. I walked to my 
 hotel, and went straight to my room and to bed and I 
 dreamt ! as vividly as only one with my imagination can 
 dream. First, the sun was shining in a land that seemed 
 all gold, and you and I were walking hand in hand on the 
 shore of a sea, silver calm ; and the air seemed soft with 
 the sweetness of peace and love. Then came a change. 
 It was still day, but the sun was setting, and we were on a 
 road hard and stony, leading over a barren plain to the 
 gates of a city that frowned on us from ahead. And we 
 toiled over the rough way, each full of love for the other, 
 each helping, cheering, hoping till as we came close to 
 the gates of the city, the red sun sank suddenly, the air 
 turned dark, and when we passed the gates, they closed 
 with a heavy clang behind us, and the night felt chill and 
 clinging. Then turning I saw on the gate the words in 
 letters of dull, menacing lead ' Who enter, part ; ' and 
 I seemed to grasp in a moment the meaning of all we 
 were to part." 
 
 He paused and drew her closer to him as he con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " I took you in my arms then, and hid your face on my 
 breast, that you might not see what was written, and 
 turning, I went back to the gate and struck it, and strove 
 with all my force to open it. But all that came of my 
 efforts was a waste of strength and a mocking laugh. I 
 turned again, and holding you that you might not hear 
 the sound, I fled with you along the road into the middle 
 of the city. Then suddenly there was a gaping, gibing, 
 jeering crowd at our heels and on all sides of us; out-
 
 The Shadow of the Past 1 1 5 
 
 running me because I carried you. And they turned to 
 point and laugh, and utter sneers at us because we loved 
 each other and were to part. And then ah, Dora, I 
 can feel them now long, bony fingers, and strong skele- 
 ton arms seized and held me, and though I struggled till 
 I thought my heart would burst in my frenzy, they tore 
 you away, and I saw you borne away till you were lost 
 in the distance, and a sense of the awfulness of solitude, 
 of a life to be passed without the warmth of your touch, 
 your smile, your kisses, your love, came upon me and 
 overwhelmed me with misery. I knew then, my darling, 
 what it would be to me to lose you; and when I woke 
 it was with the terrible dread on me that the dream was 
 one of those strange warnings that we mortals have, 
 omens of coming calamity. But it shall not be, shall ii? 
 Tell me, sweetheart, nothing shall ever part us." 
 
 " Nothing, Godef roi ; nothing on earth if I can help it. 
 If you wish it I will marry you to-morrow." She clung 
 to him and kissed him, and made him kiss her over and 
 over again, as if some protection against the fear of 
 parting lay in the multitude of kisses. 
 
 And in this way it came to be tacitly understood be- 
 tween them that the marriage should take place very 
 soon; and when the servants brought in some tea to 
 them, Dora Markham was all laughter and merriment in 
 an excess of pleasure at the anticipation, with no thought 
 straying from her own ecstasy to the wretched girl up- 
 stairs who, in the attempt to save her friend from the 
 shipwreck of this marriage had already risked her own 
 life, and now saw her every hope of happiness in jeop- 
 ardy.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE STORY OF RED DELILAH 
 
 DESSIE MERRION rose the next morning ill alike in 
 mind and body. 
 
 The evening before had been inexpressibly trying to 
 her. At dinner she had forced herself to play a part 
 and hide her condition from her friend's eyes; and she 
 succeeded only because the little love scene with the 
 Count had left Mrs. Markham with no room in her 
 thoughts for anything save the hope that he would urge 
 her on to a speedy marriage. After dinner they had all 
 gone to the theatre, and while the two were love-making, 
 Dessie had simulated an interest in the play, while in 
 reality she had been engrossed by the tragedy of her own 
 troubles. 
 
 As soon as they reached home the girl had pleaded 
 a headache and gone off to bed to lie awake, weighed 
 down with sorrow and hopeless misery, till the dim light 
 of the dawn seemed to bring relief by inspiring a sugges- 
 tion of something she could do. 
 
 Throughout all there were two great fears. One was 
 that Tom Cheriton would fail to see her past in the light 
 in which she had always thought he would. The other 
 concerned the sister, to whom de Montalt had referred 
 with such grim significance. 
 
 Over and over again her question and his reply kept 
 recurring to her. " How did you get them ? " " You 
 had better not ask. The story will not make pleasant 
 
 116
 
 The Story of Red Delilah 117 
 
 Bearing for anyone for you especially." What did he 
 mean? She had not dared to ask him. But a means of 
 finding out the truth by herself occurred to her and it 
 was the thought that in this way she would have some- 
 thing to fill up her time until her lover came, which gave 
 her some relief. 
 
 The two or three hours' sleep that she had in the early 
 morning after coming to this decision calmed her a good 
 deal and steadied her nerves, and when she went down- 
 stairs it was with a full perception of the necessity for 
 facing the crisis resolutely, and not permitting herseK 
 to give way to such outward weakness as that in which 
 her interview with the Count had ended on the day be- 
 fore. A letter from Tom Cheriton cheered her. -It was 
 full of concern for her and regret that his uncle's illness 
 had made it impossible to get away, while he promised 
 that the next day should see him by her side in town. He 
 promised this, and told her to depend upon him. This 
 was the part of the letter which cheered her. 
 
 Her intention was to go to Scotland Yard in her char- 
 acter as a journalist, and as if in search of matter for an 
 article, to make inquiries about those Rohilkund jewels. 
 She was not unknown at the Yard, as she had been there 
 more than once for similar purposes in her hunt for 
 good " copy." She asked for Inspector Malcolm, whom 
 she knew personally, and he received her very kindly and 
 courteously. She was a favourite of his ; and as he had 
 first known her as a girl with no friends, fighting a plucky 
 fight for a living, he had always been glad to help her, 
 if a chance came in his way. 
 
 "You don't look very well, Miss Merrion," he said, 
 looking at her with kind compassionate eyes. " I'm 
 afraid you're overworking. Got some new story ready 
 for us ? We always buy your books, and it would do you
 
 1 1 8 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 good to sse the pleasure which they cause when I take 
 one home." 
 
 " I think one will be published next month, Mr. Mal- 
 colm. But it's not the writing of that which has made 
 me run down. I finished it long since ; and the pleasure 
 of writing it was like a holiday. I shall send you a copy 
 with my name in it if you'll let me. But now, I've come 
 on business this morning. You may have seen some 
 mystery stories jewel stories of mine, running in one 
 or two places. No ? Well, they're not the same class of 
 thing as the books which you like. They're pot boilers, 
 you see. People like that sort of thing; so I have to 
 turn them out. One must boil to live, you know. Most 
 of them are founded on fact; and to tell you the truth 
 I'm in search of facts now. Things that actually happen 
 are so much more extraordinary than things one imag- 
 ines. In fact, it's only the impossible that's common- 
 place nowadays. What I want now is a good, rich, 
 fruity fact with plenty of crime in it, and to be served 
 with more than a soupgon of murder and mystery." 
 
 " Well, we've plenty of it binned here," said the In- 
 spector, " but I don't know that I'm glad to hear you're 
 taking to writing about that side of human nature, Miss 
 Merrion. We like your books for the absence of it." 
 
 " Then don't you read these tales. But I'll tell you the 
 case which has been suggested to me as likely to serve 
 my present purpose " she took a piece of paper from 
 her pocket and read from it " the case of the Rubies of 
 Rohilkund ; a murder, or mystery, or intrigue, five or ten 
 years ago. There, can you help me to get the facts of 
 it?" 
 
 Inspector Malcolm looked at her so shrewdly and 
 gravely for a moment that the thought crossed her mind 
 that he suspected she had some other motive. She was
 
 The Story of Red Delilah 119 
 
 very nervous, but his hesitation sprang from no other 
 cause than momentary reluctance to tell the story to her. 
 
 " It's not a nice story, Miss Merrion, and I wish you 
 had asked for any other. I know the facts well enough 
 indeed, no one better, for I was personally engaged in it. 
 If you can do without precise details I mean exact 
 spelling of names, days of the month and week, and so 
 on I can give you the facts myself without bothering to 
 look them up. Enough for your purpose I expect." 
 
 " Sure to be," assented Dessie. " If not, I'll ask you." 
 
 " It must be seven years I think either six or seven at 
 any rate that the case came under our notice ; and giv- 
 ing you the facts, not in the order in which we found 
 them out, but somewhat as they occurred they were about 
 these. You can make your notes and pop in any question 
 you want to ask. The jewels got called the Rubies of 
 Rohilkund, because of a newspaper paragraph; but as a 
 matter of fact there were only three stones in this part 
 of the business. Three very large, very fine stones and 
 immensely valuable; and they were in a gold setting 
 a star which had formed part of a most lovely Indian 
 State ornament the Regal Crescent." 
 
 " Any picture of it a block looks so well, you know," 
 said Dessie. 
 
 " -I dare say I could hunt you up one. It was a curious 
 star with only three points one of these huge rubies at 
 each, the fourth point joining it to the centre of the 
 crescent. This sort of thing " and he drew a rough out- 
 line of the design. " Well, the Crescent was part of the 
 State jewels of Rohilkund, and they got over to this 
 country under very curious circumstances. The then 
 Maharajah he's dead now was about as bad a man as 
 any State could be cursed with, and when he had spent 
 every rupee he could drag from his wretched people, he
 
 1 20 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 hit on the dodge of selling the State jewels they are 
 worth a fabulous sum, and famed all the world over and 
 getting paste imitations made to put in their places. Ac- 
 cordingly he sent over to Europe a man named Maiwand, 
 whom he trusted implicitly, though the man was as big 
 a drunkard and scoundrel as the master ; and he gave into 
 his charge half of all this most priceless collection." 
 
 " What do you say was his name ? " asked Dessie, 
 looking up from the shorthand note she was taking. 
 
 " Maiwand. Well, you can guess what happened 
 at least you could if you knew much of London life. The 
 man settled first in Paris and then came on to London. 
 He made a few attempts to ascertain what it would cost 
 to get the pastes he wanted, and also one or two inquiries 
 as to the best way of selling the jewels. But he never 
 intended to get the pastes, and meant merely to sell the 
 jewels under the Maharajah's authority, which he held, 
 and stick to the proceeds. You know, of course, this 
 is a murder story ? " 
 
 " Was it this man who was murdered then ? " asked 
 Dessie, trying to keep her voice steady. 
 
 " It was, and by a woman, too. Soon after he settled 
 here he got into tow with a woman who was then in the 
 height of her notoriety, and was known as ' Red Delilah/ 
 from the colour of her wonderful hair. She was a most 
 extraordinary woman to look at a sort of cross between 
 one's notions of an enchantress, a devil, and an angel. 
 But she was a wonderfully clever woman ; and the men 
 that came her way never got free without paying dearly 
 and I should think more men were in love with her in 
 the short time she was famous than with any other." 
 
 " Your office is very close, Mr. Malcolm. Do you 
 think you could give me a glass of water? I think I 
 walked too fast in coming here."
 
 The Story of Red Delilah 1 21 
 
 Bessie spoke with great effort, and the inspector sa\\ 
 that her face was bloodless enough to suggest fainting, 
 He got her some water instantly, opened the window 
 and was all solicitude and sympathy. 
 
 "I could see when you came in you weren't strong, 
 Miss Merrion. Can't you run down into the country 
 for a few days? A healthy sea air would do the world 
 for you." 
 
 " It's all right, I'm better now," she answered, after a 
 minute. " I had a fever you know, some little time since, 
 and perhaps I haven't quite picked up all my strength 
 again. Go on with the facts, will you? I suppose I've 
 got most of the material ones now, though. Let me see, 
 what did you say was the name of the woman? Red 
 Red " 
 
 " Red Delilah," said the inspector, answering her, but 
 looking at her as though he much doubted the wisdom 
 of keeping her writing any longer. " I'll hurry over the 
 rest," he said, in part satisfaction of this thought. " We 
 never quite knew who she was and where she came from ; 
 and to this hour no one knows what became of her. It 
 was said at one time that she was a Belgian from Ant- 
 werp, with a very bad past ; another version was that she 
 was the daughter of old Marlow, the forger of Stafford 
 Don't you feel any better, Miss Merrion ? You're still 
 awfully white and shaky? Shall I stop? 'No? Well, 
 a third yarn was that she was a Whitechapel girl named 
 Ditcher; a fourth but there were twenty yarns. Any- 
 way she got this man Maiwand into her clutches, and a 
 heap of the money he spent went to her. But not con- 
 tent with this, she formed the colossal scheme of robbing 
 him of every stone he had with him ; and for this purpose, 
 there is no doubt in my mind, though whether the evi- 
 dence was clear enough to convict I'll not say, she got the
 
 122 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 help of a man half English, half French, and the rest 
 diabolical named Colimbert." 
 
 " I should like to have that name spelt right," said 
 Dessie, interrupting for an instant. 
 
 " Colimbert Adolphe Colimbert," he replied, spelling 
 it. " I never saw that man, but from all accounts he 
 must have been a fitting help-meet for such a woman as 
 Red Delilah. I remember a clever description which 
 spoke of him as having the pluck of a d'Artagnan, the 
 beauty of a Byron, the manners of a Bayard, and the 
 morals of an Alsatian bully. Some of you press writers 
 can put things smartly, I know. What part he was to 
 take in the robbery is not clear ; but one night the unfor- 
 tunate Indian was found by his servant stabbed through 
 the heart. It is supposed that whoever committed the 
 murder and there is no doubt the woman was in it 
 had been disturbed. The whole place was in confusion, 
 as if an exhaustive search had been made, and a number 
 of the jewels were put together in readiness for being 
 carried off. The search for the remainder had cost the 
 murderers all, or nearly all, as they had had to fly. The 
 only really valuable thing gone was this Star of the 
 Crescent; and one theory about it was that it had been 
 broken off the Crescent before by the Indian himself, in 
 some drunken freak, and given to the woman. But it was 
 never found; and from that minute to this neither Red 
 Delilah nor Colimbert has been seen. That's the mys- 
 tery in a nutshell. Is it any good to you ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed. It's even more thrilling than I had ex- 
 pected," said Dessie, forcing a smile on her pale face. 
 " It has interested even me. But what became of the rest 
 of the jewels ? " 
 
 a Oh, the Government interfered when the truth leaked 
 out. They were packed up and sent back to Rohilkund,
 
 The Story of Red Delilah 123 
 
 and the people were so indignant there that the Prince 
 died shortly afterwards. Popular indignation is fatal 
 sometimes out there. The three rubies were not sent 
 back, of course. They were never found. A big reward 
 was offered I think 2,000 and afterwards this was 
 increased by the new Prince's people privately, and 
 a promise given that no questions would be asked. 
 I rather fancy, too, that some negotiations were opened 
 once or twice with some individuals, but I expect 
 they were bogus. Those who got hold of th"e rubies 
 knew how to keep them, or get rid of them safely, how- 
 ever, and it's little will ever be heard of them any more." 
 
 Dessie rose, thanked her friend, renewed her promise 
 to send a copy of her new book as soon as it came out, 
 and left. She crossed Parliament Street, went through 
 the Horse Guards, and into St. James's Park. There, as 
 soon as she found a retired seat, she sat down to think. 
 
 The story she had heard would probably change the 
 whole course of her life. 
 
 " Red Delilah " was the sister to whom the Count de 
 Montalt had referred, and the girl's new and latest fear 
 was that the story which he had told her yesterday was 
 gathered in part at first hand; that he knew from per- 
 sonal contact with her sister whose proper name was 
 Daphne some of the facts which he had included in the 
 tale which he had told her. 
 
 Who was he? 
 
 Dessie had understood that there had been a secret 
 lover in the background behind all the mad excesses of 
 voluptuous sensuality into which her sister had plunged ; 
 but she had never known his name, nor heard a word 
 describing him. Was this man, de Montalt, that lover? 
 that Adolphe Colimbert, whose name she had had spelt 
 out to her?
 
 1 24 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 If so, what would happen ? 
 
 Dessie herself had up to that moment had no knowl- 
 edge whatever of the circumstances under which this 
 wretched Indian had come by his death. But what she 
 did know filled her now with the gravest and ugliest 
 suspicions. She remembered well enough how Daphne 
 had come suddenly to the little sea village where she and 
 her mother who was then dying had hidden them- 
 selves after her father's death, and while her sister was 
 still plunged in the sea of London vice. She had told 
 Dessie that there had been great trouble; that she had 
 abandoned the old life some months before ; that she had 
 been converted and had become a nurse. It was in a 
 nurse's uniform that she had come, with most of her 
 wonderful hair a golden aureole of magnificent hair 
 cut short and the remainder dyed black. She had ex- 
 plained it by saying that she had cut it off as part of her 
 self-imposed penance ; and that she had regarded the loss 
 of it as one of the outward signs that she and her past 
 life were parted for all time. 
 
 But now, as the girl's thoughts travelled back and she 
 looked at the facts by the light of her present knowledge, 
 and her greater experience of the world, everything wore 
 a different aspect. It was only too probable that the 
 nurse's uniform and the dyed hair were a part of a dis- 
 guise, that the story of the conversion was a fable, and 
 that the fear that this terrible crime might be discovered 
 had frightened her sister to lay aside the old life and 
 adopt a quiet and safe one. 
 
 It was true she had never returned to it, and for years 
 had lived a life which so far as Dessie herself knew and 
 believed, had been good and right. But all this discovery 
 had so distressed and indeed so dazed her, that the girl 
 felt her faith in everything and everybody was shaken,
 
 The Story of Red Delilah 125 
 
 A sense of unreality tinged every thought and feeling; 
 and as she sat in blank despair gazing out at the sun- 
 lighted scene all round her, it seemed as though she had 
 been living an artificial life and had only just been roused 
 to know how painful and distressing was the reality. 
 
 But there were practical steps to be taken; pressing 
 difficulties and dangers to be faced; and she set herself 
 to try and think them out. 
 
 The one awful and commanding terror was not for 
 herself, but for her sister. 
 
 When her mother died she had extracted a promise 
 that Dessie would do all that she could at any time to help 
 the sister whom both believed to be repentant. Daphne 
 was the elder of the two by some years ; but Dessie had 
 been her mother's prop, and it was with the younger girl 
 that the mother had always associated the idea of 
 strength. She had often thought the elder might need 
 the younger's help. It was for the dead mother's sake, 
 therefore, as much as from the promptings of her own 
 heart, that Dessie had kept in touch with her sister, 
 through the address of the Safe Company. All this was 
 vivid in her memory now, as she sat appalled by the 
 thought of her sister's danger. 
 
 One thing was clear. She could see it as plainly as one 
 looking across a calm sea toward the sun can see the 
 path of reflection. 
 
 Daphne must be saved whatever the price. 
 
 What would that price be? As she asked herself the 
 question, she shuddered as she thought of the man who 
 was to fix it : " Secrecy for secrecy," he had said. Was 
 it possible to pass through life dependent on that terrible 
 man's silence? watching the nod of his head and the 
 beck of his finger, and only speaking and moving in ac- 
 cordance with his permission? She was to sacrifice her
 
 1 26 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 friend, the woman who had risked life itself for her sake ; 
 to see her wedded to a man whom she knew to be a 
 murderer and believed to be infinitely worse than many a 
 murderer. 
 
 It could not be. There must be some way of escape 
 from that degrading slavery; and she must find it. She 
 jumped to her feet as if the mere act of resolution had 
 given her energy; and at the same instant a suggestion 
 occurred to her, and she was surprised and irritated that 
 she had not thought of it before. 
 
 SHe must go and see her sister and find out the truth for 
 herself at first hand. Before she even saw her lover, and 
 before she had to exchange another word with the man 
 who thus threatened her, she would see Daphne. 
 
 No sooner had the idea suggested itself than she set 
 to work to carry it out, and started to walk to Victoria 
 Station, maturing her plan as she went.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 TOM CHERITON'S SUSPICIONS 
 
 DAPHNE MARLOW, or Nurse Morland, as she called 
 herself, was in the infirmary of an industrial town in the 
 north-east of Yorkshire a six or seven hours' ride from 
 London. Dessie would have to remain away at least one 
 night, therefore, and certainly to give some explanation 
 of her absence to Mrs. Markham. 
 
 Moreover, Tom Cheriton was coming up that day, and 
 something must be said to him as well. That she should 
 teii the facts to either of them was out of the question ; 
 and the difficulty was what to say. She resolved, of 
 course, to wire short messages to both; and to send a 
 letter in addition to Tom. She went to Victoria Station, 
 because that might help to keep them all off her trail ; as 
 her journey had to be made by the Great Northern line 
 from King's Cross. 
 
 To Mrs. Markham she wired that a business commis- 
 sion had been given her suddenly, and she could not be 
 back that night, and possibly not the next. To Cheriton 
 she sent two wires. The first to his uncle's house in 
 Staffordshire, asking him not to come to town that day 
 if he had not already started. The second to Mrs. Mark- 
 ham's house, saying an urgent matter had arisen and she 
 would write to his chambers. 
 
 The letter was a scrawl of only a few lines. 
 
 " Dearest, I am in a little trouble that I cannot write 
 about. I have to leave town on account of it, and am 
 so sorry to have brought you up to town to-day. This is 
 
 127
 
 128 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 very mysterious, I know ; but veryjmportant all the same. 
 All day yesterday I longed for you ; and now that you are 
 really coming I am not stopping to see you. Don't be 
 angry. You will not when I tell you and explain. A 
 thousand kisses from your most eccentric, D. D. 
 
 " P. S. Trust me. I am full of wild desire to see 
 
 you." 
 
 It was an incoherent letter; but she had not time to 
 attempt to re-write it; so she dropped it into the letter 
 box, breathing a fervent prayer that after all, the parting 
 was only for a day or so, and that she might yet be able 
 to explain everything. Then she travelled by the Dis- 
 trict Railway to King's Cross, and was soon speeding 
 northward in the express, turning over and over in her 
 mind all the events which in a few days had made up this 
 wild whirl of change in her life; and speculating what 
 would be the outcome of this interview with her sister, 
 whom she had not seen for six years, and whose safety 
 she was now perhaps going to purchase at the cost of 
 both happiness and honour. 
 
 But looming largest in her mind was the thought of 
 her lover; of what he would think of her extraordinary 
 absence; of his love for her and hers for him; of the 
 bar that was thus being built up between them; and of 
 the great glooming fear that she was to lose him. It was 
 a sad journey in every respect. 
 
 To all in Edgcumbe Square it was indeed quite unac- 
 countable. 
 
 " Bolted ! " was the Count's thought ; and he was at 
 first immensely pleased at it, and found many reasons to 
 account for her taking the step. But when he had con- 
 sidered the news more earnestly, and had smoked a cigar 
 over it, his shrewdness put him much nearer to the truth. 
 
 " She's been finding out more about the jewels/' he
 
 Tom Cheriton's Suspicions 1 29 
 
 said to himself, " and has perhaps found out something 
 of the ugly association between them and that red devil 
 of a sister of hers. I wish I knew what she had dis- 
 covered, and could see the best use to make of it. I 
 shouldn't be surprised if she's gone off to her sister to 
 find out from her what right I have to the jewels, and 
 whether she ought to give them up to me. You never 
 know what these conscientious people will do. That's 
 the worst of them. If it was anybody without a con- 
 science I should know well enough that her first instinct 
 would be to get the sister to clear off out of the way. 
 But she won't do that yet, because I haven't shown her 
 that card, and that if she doesn't hold her tongue I'll just 
 hand the sister over to the police. She may have guessed 
 it, of course, if she's learnt all the facts; but stay a 
 moment, I have it." 
 
 He thought intently for a minute and then decided. 
 Sending a message to Mrs. Markham that he had forgot- 
 ten an important matter and would return in an hour's 
 time, he left the house, jumped into a cab, and told the 
 man to drive him to Sir Edmund Landale's. 
 
 " I have news for you," he said to the baronet ; " most 
 important and urgent. Things are quickening to a crisis. 
 Miss Merrion and -I have had a desperate quarrel about 
 you. I was endeavouring to further your wishes, and 
 the result is that she has changed round you know the 
 fickleness of a woman and vows there is no villainy I 
 would not commit, and only a few I have not committed." 
 He laughed pleasantly. " That comes of her associating 
 me with you, I suppose. Anyway, that I am wishing to 
 marry Mrs. Markham for her money, and am an un- 
 scrupulous fortune-hunter, was the smallest charge she 
 had against me, and about the pleasantest compliment she 
 could pay me. Heigho ! girls are hard to deal with."
 
 130 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " When was this ? " asked the baronet. 
 
 " Only yesterday, after I saw you ; and I have come s 
 therefore, to tell you in all candour and fairness that, 
 directly and personally, I can not only be no help to you, 
 but that if you want to avoid provoking her distrust com- 
 pletely, while she remains in her present cantankerous 
 temper, you had better not let her dream that you and I 
 have even seen each other." 
 
 " But you say the quarrel was because you were trying 
 to help my interests ? " 
 
 " What else should I say, if I am to speak the truth ? " 
 he answered, sharply, irritated at having been caught in 
 so glaring an inconsistency. " I was urging her to have 
 no more to do with this Cheriton. But what is it to me 
 whom she marries ? Do you think if I had not had your 
 cause in my thoughts I should have bothered to in- 
 terfere? Not I. But I have brought on myself a 
 deadly quarrel with the one woman for whom my fu- 
 ture wife really cares. I wish I had never heard a 
 word of your story or seen you; and she had married 
 this stolid barrister of hers." He assumed the appear- 
 ance of so much anger and implied so strongly that the 
 fault lay with the baronet that the latter was a little 
 nervous. 
 
 " I am sorry," he began, when the Count interrupted. 
 
 " Sorry ! What the is the good of your sorrow ? 
 
 It won't mend my quarrel with my future wife's dearest 
 friend, will it? Or stop all the infernal unpleasantness 
 and trouble and tears, and all the rest of it? If it would 
 I'd be sorry with you. Sorry, indeed ! " with an em- 
 phasis of contempt on the word. 
 
 He took out a cigarette and lighted it with a sugges- 
 tion of viciousness in the action as though venting his 
 anger upon it. The . baronet was a nervous man with
 
 Tom Cheriton's Suspicions 131 
 
 offier men, and watched him rather abashed by his 
 blustrous energy and temper. 
 
 " Excuse my manner," said the Count at length. He 
 had been keenly watching the effect of his words on the 
 other, and wished to master him. " I am the devil him- 
 self when I'm roused and this thing has shaken me up 
 deucedly. But don't think I mean going back on my 
 word to you yesterday. If I could have seen what would 
 happen I wouldn't have promised my help, I admit. But 
 once given, I keep my word, come what may. This girl 
 has chosen to quarrel with me. So be it. She must take 
 the consequences. She'll repent, not I. And it's because 
 I mean her to that I'm here now. She's bolted from Lon- 
 don " 
 
 " Bolted ! " exclaimed the other, as much astonished 
 as de Montalt intended him to be. " What do you mean ? 
 Where?" 
 
 "Bolted," repeated the other. "Mind, I don't mean 
 bolted to her lover; but actually bolted from him. Lis- 
 ten," he said, and then thinking he had reduced Lan- 
 dale to a condition of confusion, he told him his plan. 
 " You know that ugly tale about her past ; and you know 
 there was a sister with a very shaky history. Well, things 
 seem to be worse in that quarter than she thought I let 
 out some truths indeed which I had much better have 
 kept to myself and my opinion is she's bolted down to 
 che sister to find out all the truth for herself. Now, mark 
 this: You want to have a hold on her. The secret of 
 that sister's past will give you what you want. I'll tell 
 it some day, but not now and if you want to gain the 
 end you have in view you can do it." 
 
 He stopped and glanced keenly at his companion, 
 whose face wore a puzzled, undecided, hesitating expres- 
 sion.
 
 132 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " What do you want me to do ? " fie asked at length. 
 
 " I don't want you to do anything," was the answer, 
 with vicious emphasis on the word. " Do you want to 
 marry Miss Merrion or to have her in your power? 
 Or would you rather see her in another man's arms?- 
 That's the question." 
 
 " You know the answer to it," replied Landale with the 
 quickness of jealousy. 
 
 " Then I'll tell you how to do it. Go down to Mid- 
 dlesbridge by the first train that starts from King's Cross ; 
 find out where Nurse Morland, of the Middle Riding 
 Infirmary, lives, and watch her every movement. Nurse 
 Morland is Daphne Marlow, and her sister has gone 
 down, either to get her out of the way, or to induce her 
 to take some step which may help to shake off the pOwer 
 which anyone can exercise over Dorothy Marlow, who 
 knows where a hand can be laid on Daphne's shoulder. 
 Be down there by accident. Know nothing whatever. 
 If you meet Miss Merrion, don't let her have a thought 
 that it is not accidental. But don't let the other escape 
 and mind, she's artful enough to be the devil's wife. 
 Lastly, don't let a syllable escape you to suggest that you 
 have ever heard of me." 
 
 The baronet put a number of questions, which the other 
 man either answered or fenced with as he thought best, 
 giving any reply that suited his purpose, without the least 
 regard to its truth ; and in the end Sir Edmund, though 
 profoundly disliking the task, consented to go. 
 
 " Why not have her watched in the ordinary way ? 
 There are thousands of men who do this sort of thing 
 cheap enough and much better than I possibly can," 
 he protested half a dozen times. 
 
 " For the simple reason that it isn't safe to let a single 
 soul but you and me have a suspicion that she is not what
 
 Tom Cheriton's Suspicions 133 
 
 she says Nurse Morland. This is necessary for her 
 sister's sake. The least suspicion in an outsider's knowl- 
 edge, and our hold would be gone for good." 
 
 This consideration prevailed in the end; and all was 
 settled when the Count drove back to Edgcumbe Square, 
 chuckling to himself at the adroit use he had made of the 
 baronet. 
 
 He found Mrs. Markham very curious as to the errand 
 on which he had been away, and he pacified her with a 
 tale that he had ordered some flowers to be sent to her, 
 and had forgotten to call as arranged to decide a point in 
 regard to their selection. 
 
 " You were not with me, child, and I thought I could 
 not better fill in the time than by doing something to 
 please you." 
 
 " We could have called together about them," said the 
 widow, who was sorry to have missed an opportunity 
 of shopping in the company of her handsome lover. 
 
 " True, but I wanted them to be a surprise. And now 
 you have got everything out of me. When you ask me 
 anything, Dora, out must come the whole truth, whether 
 the thing be grave or trivial. You have spoilt my little 
 plot altogether," he said, smiling, and kissing her. 
 
 She believed him implicitly, of course, and was flattered 
 at the little attention which the imaginary act implied. 
 
 " I can't help wondering where on earth that child 
 Dessie has got to," she said, after a pause. " It's such 
 an extraordinary thing to have done." 
 
 " She is a woman journalist, Dora. There is an ex- 
 planation of any amount of eccentricity in that." 
 
 "Not in the least. She's the most level-headed little 
 soul on the face of the earth at least she used to be." 
 She made the qualification, remembering the girl's unac- 
 countable dislike of de Montalt.
 
 1 34 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " Then in that case, why not accept her explanation ? 
 She implies she has gone away on business." 
 
 " But she doesn't say where. Besides, she's been so 
 peculiar the last few days ever since we came to town. 
 I don't understand her a bit," and she frowned and shook 
 her head in perplexity. 
 
 The subject did not interest her lover just then. He 
 had for his part exhausted the possibilities of the girl's 
 action, had taken such precautions as he could to guard 
 against its interfering with his plans; and thus Mrs. 
 Markham's vapid speculations bored him. There was 
 another subject he had much nearer at heart; the date 
 for their marriage, and he had resolved to press this 
 forward now with all reasonable speed. 
 
 He approached the subject again now, taking it up 
 where he had left it on the previous night ; and after say- 
 ing that he had had letters which would necessitate his 
 leaving England for a time very shortly, suggested that 
 he would let her decide whether the marriage should 
 take place before his departure or after his return. 
 
 The widow on her side was all eagerness, and they 
 were in close consultation when Tom Cheriton was shown 
 in. 
 
 He glanced round the room in evident disappointment 
 at not seeing Dessie there, and his first question was for 
 her. 
 
 "It is most unaccountable, Mr. Cheriton," said Mrs. 
 Markham. " But first let me make you two gentlemen 
 known to one another," and she introduced them. The 
 impression which each formed of the other was exceed- 
 ingly unfavourable. 
 
 " A scoundrel," was Cheriton 's inward verdict. " A 
 bulldog," was the other man's thought, while both mur- 
 mured a word or two of civility.
 
 Tom Cheriton's Suspicions 135 
 
 " There is a telegram for you, Mr. Cheriton," said 
 Mrs. Markham, handing it to him. " We've no doubt 
 it's from Dessie." He tore it open quickly, and a glance 
 told him the contents. 
 
 " Strange," he said thoughtfully. " She brought me 
 up on purpose to see her. Do you know anything of this, 
 sir ? " he asked de Montalt, abruptly with a sharp keen 
 glance. 
 
 " I ? Certainly not. How is that possible ? " 
 
 " Anything is possible, as an Old Bailey practice soon 
 teaches you," returned Cheriton, brusquely. " What is 
 your opinion of her sudden step, Mrs. Markham? You 
 know her well." 
 
 " I can't understand it at all," was the reply. Mrs. 
 Markham was nettled at Cheriton's tone toward her lover. 
 " She tells me in a telegram that it's a sudden commission 
 of work. But I'm bound to say I can't think that's all. 
 She's been very peculiar all the time she's been here." 
 
 " Peculiar ? " echoed Cheriton, pricking up his ears. 
 " In what way do you mean peculiar? " 
 
 " Out of sorts. You know what I mean. Not like 
 herself. Dull, low spirited. I thought she was ill. I 
 found her looking very faint and ill once. You remem- 
 ber yesterday, Godef roi ? " 
 
 " She explained that was due to Mr. Cheriton's ab- 
 sence," said the Count, not liking Cheriton's manner at 
 all. 
 
 " Dull, low-spirited, and not like herself. I suppose 
 that wasn't the welcome she gave when she first met you, 
 Mrs. Markham ? " he asked, in his persuasive cross-exam- 
 ining smile and manner. 
 
 "Oh, no/' replied the widow. "That's the curious 
 part. She seemed all right then. It was not till that 
 evening or the next day that I noticed the change."
 
 136 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " She was all right, Mrs. Markham ; for I saw her an 
 hour or two before she came to you, and she was al- 
 together in her usual spirits." He paused, and then 
 wheeling round on de Montalt, he repeated his question. 
 
 " And are you quite sure still that you know nothing at 
 all of the cause of this, absence, sir ? " 
 
 " I have replied once. I am not accustomed to be ques- 
 tioned in this way. I am not responsible for this young 
 lady's eccentricities." 
 
 " Well, we shall see. You will excuse me now, Mrs. 
 Markham. Dessie says in her wire that she is writing 
 to my chambers, and I will go there. I am not at all 
 satisfied ; and must look into things at once." With that, 
 he left, shaking hands with Mrs. Markham and bowing 
 very stiffly to her companion.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW 
 
 WHEN Dessie reached Middlesbridge she was a little 
 at a loss to know how best to get to see her sister. She 
 did not know whether the nurses lived in the Infirmary, 
 or even whether her sister was on the regular staff. 
 There had been no communication between them for a 
 long time past, and the last letter had only stated the fact 
 baldly that Daphne was going to join the nursing staff 
 of the Infirmary. 
 
 Middlesbridge was a dirty industrial town, the centre 
 of the Nortfiern iron trade, with a dirty river, along the 
 southern bank of which lay the chief works, which kept 
 the Infirmary well stocked with bad " smashes " as ac- 
 cidents to the workers were called and gave the hospi- 
 tal quite a reputation as a place where varied and con- 
 stant practice in surgery could be gained. 
 
 But 'Nurse Morland had gone to it for reasons alto- 
 gether unconnected with nursing experience. It lay off 
 the highway of the world, and only the barest handful of 
 the sixty or seventy thousand of useful human beings 
 who peopled the hive knew anything of life outside it. 
 It was a safer refuge than a desert. 
 
 Dessie found her way on foot to the Infirmary, and was 
 going to call and ask for her sister when it occurred to 
 her that she Had better send her a letter to prepare her 
 for the visit. A sudden meeting, if a stranger chanced 
 
 137
 
 138 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 to be present, might call forth some word or sign which 
 might lead to embarrassing consequences. 
 
 She turned back, therefore, and entering a shop wrote 
 a very brief line saying that an extraordinary need had 
 arisen compelling her to come to Middlesbridge, and ask- 
 ing her to say when they could meet and where. She 
 was to send word by the bearer. 
 
 She got a boy to take the note and wait for an answer, 
 and she watched him as he went up the semicircular 
 carriage-drive that was in front of the building, and saw 
 him deliver the letter to the porter. After a long interval 
 he returned and gave her a note. 
 
 " Call here in an hour." 
 
 Then the girl remembered that she had yet to find 
 some place to stay at. She went back first to the station 
 to find out how late she could leave, in the hope that the 
 interview with her sister would be over in time to let her 
 leave and travel by night, and having made a note of 
 the train times she went away to get something to eat. 
 She felt faint and weary, and remembered that she had 
 had nothing since breakfast at Edgcumbe Square. Ex- 
 citement had made her forget food; but she compelled 
 herself now to eat a substantial meal, and then made some 
 inquiries as to an hotel. 
 
 Punctually at the expiration of the hour she returned 
 to the infirmary ; and on asking for Nurse Morland, she 
 was shown up to a room, where, instead of her sister, the 
 matron, a very sharp-eyed, clever, quick-looking, little 
 woman, received her, and poured in a volley of questions 
 shrewdly and somewhat brusquely put to ascertain her 
 business. 
 
 Dessie listened quietly, and answered very generally, 
 parrying the questions deftly. She was moved by a sort 
 of antagonism until her questioner let out that her mo-
 
 An Important Interview 139 
 
 live was a fear lest Dessie had perhaps come to try and 
 take Nurse Morland away, while the matron did not want 
 to lose her. 
 
 " You're the first friend that's been to see her for a 
 very long time, you know," she said, shaking her head 
 and looking as though the fact was very suspicious ; " and 
 I think well enough of her to wish to keep her." 
 
 " I haven't the remotest thought of enticing her away," 
 answered Dessie, smiling at the matron's manner. " It is 
 many years since I saw Nurse Morland. We are very 
 old friends; and it occurred to me to come and see her, 
 all unexpectedly." 
 
 At this moment Nurse Morland entered the room. A 
 quick glance shot from her eyes to Bessie's face, and the 
 latter read it as a warning. Then, in a somewhat formal 
 manner, but in a voice of exquisite sweetness and depth, 
 she said, putting out her hand : 
 
 " It is very good of you to come and see me, Miss 
 Merrion. It is a long time indeed since we met. Will 
 you come with me to my little room? The matron will 
 excuse you." There was a quiet air of masterful force 
 in every syllable and action; and without another word 
 the two sisters left the room together. Murmuring such 
 commonplaces as two friends might speak who had not 
 met for some time, they went to a small room, at the end 
 of a long corridor^ in which were two beds; and there, 
 as soon as they were alone, the elder sister let drop from 
 her face the mask of impassiveness she had worn. 
 
 She shut and locked the door carefully. 
 
 " All ears are on the strain for gossip and scandal 
 here, and every tongue in the place is always itching to 
 wag. Speak low, as somebody's sense of duty may bring 
 them to the keyhole ; and now, tell me, Dorothy, what in 
 heaven's name this surprise visit means ? "
 
 140 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie looked at her sister with emotions, in which the 
 old sisterly affection, admiration for her beauty, as con- 
 spicuous as ever now, and astonishment at her present 
 conduct were mingled. 
 
 " You have not kissed me, Daphne," she said. 
 
 " You have not come all this way merely to be kissed," 
 answered the elder, with a gesture of impatience and 
 temper. But the words had scarcely left her lips be- 
 fore she threw her arms round Dessie and embraced 
 her with vehement energy, twining her strong arms 
 round the girl and pressing hot, fierce kisses on her 
 cheeks and lips. Dessie was almost frightened at this 
 tempestuous change; but the love in her own heart was 
 roused, and on her side she answered the caresses with 
 fervent warmth. And in this way some time was passed, 
 the two sisters locked in each other's arms, and speaking 
 scarcely a word. 
 
 At length the elder broke away and sat down on the 
 bed opposite that on which Dessie sat, and held the girl's 
 two hands in her own. 
 
 " What lamentable weakness," she cried, impetuously. 
 " And yet how sweet to be weak sometimes, and not al- 
 ways to lock away, as in an iron chest, every natural 
 desire, prompting, and thought, and be for ever playing a 
 part. Daphne Marlow had better never have been born 
 than to be for ever nothing but Nurse Morland." 
 
 Dessie sat watching her sister as she spoke, thinking 
 what a magnificent and altogether strange woman she 
 had become. Daphne was tall for a woman, with an 
 exquisitely proportioned figure, the strength and sup- 
 pleness of which had been well developed by her calling. 
 But it was her face and head that compelled attention. 
 The features were all regular and in perfect harmony 
 with the shape of the face which tapered from a broad
 
 An Important Interview 141 
 
 and rather high brow to the chin. Everything suggested 
 force, thought, and self-reliance. The colouring, too, 
 was as remarkable as the pose of the head was beautiful. 
 The flesh was white, with the clear, deep whiteness of 
 alabaster, and the striking pallor was relieved by lips 
 of a rich red, lustrous eyes and heavy brows and lashes 
 all of a deep blackness. Above this remarkable face was 
 a wealth of hair, pure red gold in hue, of extraordinary 
 fineness and quite wonderful profusion. She had long 
 since ceased to dye it, and had allowed it to grow again. 
 Even gathered up under the sober cap of the nurse, the 
 hair suggested that crown of woman's glory which the 
 hair is to certain women. 
 
 It was her hair that she had cut away in the old days, 
 as the outward symbol of her severance from that world 
 in which she had played so conspicuous a part to achieve 
 only such a dazzling fall. 
 
 Daphne's experienced eyes were also reading the state 
 of her sister's mind as reflected in her face, where she 
 saw the evidence of trouble or illness. 
 
 " You're not as strong as you used to be, Dorothy," 
 she said, when the girl did not reply promptly to her 
 former remark. 
 
 "I am well enough bodily. I had a bad attack of 
 typhus fever a few months ago, and have had a little 
 difficulty in getting back my strength. It is not my 
 body that is suffering. There is trouble." 
 
 " Of course. You wouldn't come without a cause cf 
 that kind, I presume," was the impetuous, half-angry 
 reply. " What is the trouble ? Do you want me to help 
 you, or do you come to disturb me? " The paroxysm of 
 affection had entirely passed from her. She loosed her 
 sister's hand, and sat with a half -aggressive, half-an- 
 tagonistic air.
 
 142 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " I have come on what may prove to be a very sad 
 errand," began Dessie, and her sister interrupted her 
 with a short, half-satirical laugh. 
 
 " That's how goody-goody people always begin when 
 they have something particularly unpleasant to say or 
 do. Look here," she continued, with a quick change of 
 tone, speaking with voluble energy. " Hear this. For 
 six years or seven years you have never troubled your- 
 self to come near me. I have lived a puritanical existence 
 that any saint might be proud of. Not a soul has a 
 suspicion that my heart is not bursting with charity and 
 love for the noble calling which this betokens " touch- 
 ing her uniform " not a soul believes that I do not re- 
 gard it as my mission from God a mission to minister 
 to the sick ugh. Wait a minute; let me finish. I am 
 content ; or, at least, so far content that I haven't laid 
 hands on my own life. And what is more, I see relief 
 opening out ahead of me. I am going to be married. 
 Do you understand? To marry a man who is in 
 love with my face and figure; my beautiful body; and 
 with the saintly mind that inspires the nurse's calling! 
 He is a good man, and I love him, too, in a way. Now, 
 mark me, if a word that you have to say will interfere 
 with that prospect, don't utter it. Go away ; leave it un- 
 said. Go and forget me; put me out of your thoughts 
 again. Pack the memory of me away on the shelf in 
 your mind, where you store the ugly things you never 
 want to think of again. But don't venture to say, or even 
 to think, a word that is in the least likely to come between 
 me and my purpose. I won't endure it. I won't." She 
 spoke almost fiercely at the close, and what she said 
 made Dessie so thoughtful that she scarce knew how to 
 begin. 
 
 "Ah, I'm glad I warned you in time," said Daphne,
 
 An Important Interview 143 
 
 again, seeing her sister pause. " I mean it. Every word, 
 and more. I won't hear a word. You know what you 
 told me after mother died. You know your promise. 
 To do anything and everything in your power to help me 
 to the right way. Well, I vow to you " she spoke now 
 hurriedly, and with concentrated and almost bitter in- 
 tensity " if you do this now, I will toss aside in an in- 
 stant the whole solemn lying of the last seven years, and 
 get back to the old daring life, the desire for which burns 
 always in me like an unslakable fire." 
 
 " That is not the attitude of a strong woman," said 
 Dessie, quietly. 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but it is the resolve of a determined one. 
 I am only warning you. You have come to me, not I to 
 you. I am only telling you what the consequences will be 
 if you interfere. I have been strong, God knows, for 
 seven years. Jacob never served to win Rachel as I 
 have served to win respectability; and now you come 
 and threaten everything. Go away. Rather than breathe 
 a word, go away now, with every syllable unspoken. I'll 
 take the risk of your silence. It's easier to fall straight 
 from a fool's paradise into hell than to climb the 
 weary treadmill of this dull, dreary, sordid, earthly 
 round." 
 
 "It is out of the question for me to go away without 
 saying what I have come to say," answered Dessie, 
 quietly. " But I certainly have not come to dissuade you 
 from taking any course you believe best for you. -I am 
 compelled to reopen the past, however, and I am afraid 
 that I must hurt you. Tell me first, do you know this 
 man ? " She put into her hands the photograph of the 
 Count de Montalt. 
 
 The moment Daphne's eyes fell on the handsome, self- 
 confident face, it was clear that she recognised him.
 
 144 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " What is this man to you ? " she asked Dessie, her 
 whole manner altered. 
 
 " Personally, nothing. But he is engaged to be mar- 
 ried to a dear friend of mine one who saved my life in 
 the illness I told you of just now." 
 
 " Then let them marry, and do you keep out of his 
 way for the rest of your life. No more terrible man 
 breathes than that." She frowned at the face with a 
 gesture of hate. " Leave him to go his course alone, and 
 keep out of his way, if you value anything you possess 
 from your life downwards." 
 
 " I cannot do that," answered Dessie. " And it is be- 
 cause -I cannot that I am here." 
 
 " I will have nothing to do with it. If you attempt 
 to struggle with that man, you will lose as surely as you 
 are a woman and he a man." 
 
 " Nevertheless I will not flinch, if you can answer my 
 questions satisfactorily," answered Dessie firmly. " What 
 has he ever been to you ? " 
 
 " I shall not tell you." 
 
 " Has he any hold over you ? Could he do you any 
 harm?" 
 
 " He could never find me." 
 
 " But if he could find you? " 
 
 " No, none." 
 
 " You mean that, Daphne ? " 
 
 " Why do you cross-examine me like this ? " asked the 
 other, angrily. " Don't I tell you ? Shall I protest, and 
 mouth and swear it ? " 
 
 " What is his name ? " asked Dessie, after a pause. 
 
 " If he is to marry your friend, you must know that 
 well enough." 
 
 "I know him now as the Count de Montalt. He has
 
 An Important Interview 145 
 
 once before crossed my path as Rolande Lespard; what 
 was he called to you ? " 
 
 " I will not tell you. It would open up a sealed chap- 
 ter." 
 
 " As you will. Then I will tell you. He was known 
 as Adolphe Colimbert, half English, half French, and was 
 mixed up in a hundred wild and lawless deeds. You need 
 not say more about him unless you like ; but one thing I 
 ask you to tell me fully in all confidence How came the 
 Indian envoy Maiwand, by his death? And how did the 
 Star of the Rohilkund Crescent get into Colimbert's 
 possession ? " 
 
 The questions were asked in a quiet matter of fact 
 tone, but the effect of them upon the elder sister was 
 startling enough. She sat with her face hard set, her lips 
 pressed together, and her brows knitted, while her breath 
 seemed to come from a bosom labouring with emotion. 
 
 " Where did you get to learn anything of this ? " she 
 asked, after a long pause. 
 
 " By a chain of coincidences that are as strange as I 
 fear they are dangerous. When I first threw aside 
 the old life and started as Bessie Merrion, I had an 
 adventure at Birmingham station which resulted in my 
 getting possession of the jewels." She described briefly 
 what had happened and the letters she had received. " I 
 thought little about them till quite recently, when in the 
 man my friend, Mrs. Markham, was going to marry, I 
 recognised the murderer Lespard. I taxed him with 
 it " 
 
 " Oh ! you little fool," cried Daphne, involuntarily. 
 " It was as much as your life was worth." 
 
 " It was. He tried to take it the very next day ; and 
 then stole some papers which gave him a clue to my
 
 146 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 identity. After that, within a few hours, he had all our 
 history, and he threatened me with exposure. I asked 
 him then how he got possession of the jewels, and he 
 answered me in a way that frightened me. This morn- 
 ing I myself went to Scotland Yard in my character of a 
 journalist, and the whole story was told to me by the 
 very inspector who had the matter in hand at the time." 
 
 " What did he say ? How do you mean that I am im- 
 plicated ? " 
 
 " You know how you were called at the time. The 
 inspector told me plainly that you were suspected of 
 having formed the plot to get the whole of the Indian's 
 jewels from him ; that you were suspected of having 
 
 killed him; and that immediately after the m the 
 
 deed, you disappeared, and had never been seen since. 
 Adolphe Colimbert disappeared in the same way, and has 
 also never been found. The belief was that you had 
 gone away together but I know different." 
 
 Daphne Marlow sat with bowed head while the story 
 was being told, as if not daring to look her sister in the 
 face. At the close she looked up. 
 
 " Do you believe me guilty of that ? " she asked, as if 
 challenging her sister. 
 
 " That is the very question I have come to ask. If not, 
 then this man's threats to expose me are empty. He 
 will probably threaten next to denounce you. But I 
 shall know that to be an empty boast also. Will you tell 
 me the truth?" 
 
 Dessie had purposely spoken in a perfectly unimpas- 
 sioned voice, unwilling to add to what she felt must be 
 her sister's intense agitation; but her own emotions at 
 that moment passed beyond her control, and after a pause, 
 in which she waited breathlessly for an answer that did 
 not come, she put her hand on her sister's and cried :
 
 "Tell me the truth, for Heaven's sake, Daphne." 
 
 Page iff.
 
 An Important Interview 147 
 
 " Tell me the truth, for heaven's sake Daphne. All I 
 care for in life may hang upon it," and she remained 
 thus waiting eagerly while her sister appeared to be 
 wrestling with feelings which prevented her from re- 
 plying.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE TRUTH 
 
 THE two sisters sat for a long time in silence, each im- 
 pressed by the critical gravity of the position. The 
 younger tried to put the strongest reserve upon herself, 
 and the elder was manifestly overcome by the rush of 
 thoughts which her sister's words had loosened. Her 
 face became very stern and hard, the frown on the 
 forehead giving to the features an expression that was 
 almost repelling. 
 
 " I do not know how to answer you, Dorothy," she 
 said, at length. " I cannot tell you the whole story I 
 will not, in fact; and yet without telling you -I cannot 
 make you understand. I am not a murderess in fact. 
 That is, I did not kill that wretched Maiwand. Make 
 your mind easy on that score that is to say, if your mind 
 is one of those British ones which holds a man or woman 
 innocent of murder so long as their hand has not actually 
 dealt the death blow. But he owed his death to me ; and 
 I, like a fearsome fool, so acted that if I were charged 
 to-morrow with the crime and the facts were even fairly 
 told, there are not a dozen men in England who would 
 not think me guilty. There you have my secret then," 
 she cried, with angry emphasis. " I have lived the last 
 seven years with the full knowledge that if ever the police 
 found out who I was, I should be condemned for the 
 murder of that man. That is a sword which no woman 
 can carry about in her heart, and yet remain young. At 
 least, so I thought. But now " 
 
 148
 
 The Truth 149 
 
 She paused and her sister made no attempt to speak. 
 What had been said let her see clearly enough now that 
 the hold which the man Count de Montalt had, was even 
 much greater that she had feared. 
 
 " Do you think he knows where I am ? " asked Daphne, 
 sfiarply, after a long and painful pause. 
 
 " I can't say yet. But I am so afraid of him that he 
 seems to me likely to know anything." 
 
 " Had you it written anywhere among your papers ? " 
 
 " Only in one place. There is an entry in a diary of 
 mine, simply the name ' Nurse Morland,' and the address. 
 But the diary is in a safe in my own rooms. He cannot 
 have got to that ? " 
 
 11 Cannot ! " exclaimed the other, with a gesture of im- 
 patience. " You don't know him if you think that. 
 When he once held the clue he got when searching your 
 box, he would ransack every nook and cranny where you 
 would probably or improbably keep such a thing. He 
 must have found the name Marlow somewhere ; and that 
 accounts for his knowing everything else. He is no 
 wizard; only a man of infinite cunning, and as daring 
 as a man can be. Our one chance is that he does not 
 know where I am. He has sought me for years." 
 
 At that moment they were interrupted by a knock at 
 the door, and the elder sister, removing rapidly the signs 
 of her emotion, opened it at once. 
 
 " Nurse Morland, the matron says that No. 37 is not 
 so well, and can you go to her ? " 
 
 " I must go on duty now, Dessie," she said turning to 
 her sister, while the maid waited. " I am glad to have 
 haci a chat over old times. I will call and see you 
 to-morrow morning. You are probably staying at the 
 Queen's Hotel?" 
 
 "Yes, you will find me there in the morning. Come
 
 150 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 as early as you can, as I am going on before the after- 
 noon." 
 
 "If you give my name at the Queen's, you will find 
 Mrs. Smith very pleasant. I nursed her through an 
 illness, and she thinks I saved her life." 
 
 In this way they parted, and Dessie, feeling more for- 
 lorn and miserable than she had ever felt before in her 
 life, hurried away to make arrangements at the hotel to 
 stay the night. The mention of Nurse Morland's name 
 proved a good introduction, and saved her from having to 
 give any reason for the somewhat equivocal fact that she 
 Was travelling alone and without luggage. 
 
 She passed a desolate night. Even at the darkest point 
 of her life she had had hope in the future; but now she 
 could not perceive a single ray anywhere. She was ab- 
 solutely in this man's power, to do with as he pleased, 
 and out of this a new dread grew during the night's 
 thoughts. 
 
 It was that she would not be able to tell Tom Cheriton ; 
 and no one knew better than she that that must mean 
 their parting. Looming in the distance she saw the ter- 
 rible alternative of having to maintain an impenetrable 
 silence in regard to everything, or of having to see her 
 sister stand in the dock on a charge of murder, with an 
 almost certain conviction to follow. 
 
 Before the prospect of such a choice she shrank and 
 trembled like a child. It was as she had said. All that 
 she held dear in life hung on the issue. 
 
 In the morning she was up early and had breakfast 
 in her own room. She resolved to go out for a short 
 walk, as her head was aching violently, and then return 
 and wait for her sister. As she was going down the stairs 
 to pass through the hall she had an additional shock. 
 
 Sir Edmund Landale was standing there, speaking to
 
 The Truth 151 
 
 a waiter and asking the way to the Middle Riding In- 
 firmary. 
 
 What could that mean? She was quick now to scent 
 danger in any new incident, and after a moment's pause 
 of indecision, she determined that there was less risk 
 in speaking to him and endeavouring to find out his 
 business than in remaining ignorant of it. 
 
 He showed little or no surprise at seeing her; and 
 Dessie noticed it. 
 
 " How did you know I was here ? " she asked ; and the 
 question confused him so that he hesitated and stam- 
 mered. 
 
 " I had to come here " he began. 
 
 " The day before yesterday morning you wrote that 
 you were going to call at my rooms to see me. Not a 
 soul knew of my coming here. Why then " She stopped 
 and paused. Her own question had given her a clue 
 that startled her ; but she acted upon it with instant readi- 
 ness and very shrewdly. She steadied herself for the 
 effort, and in a matter-of-fact tone, she added : *' When 
 you saw the Count de Montalt at my rooms, he gave 
 you no reason to think I should be here. He told me 
 nothing about your coming north either. You dropped 
 no hint of it to him, did you ? " 
 
 He stared at her, as if trying to get at her meaning; 
 his weak features so expressive of doubt and perplexity, 
 that for the moment Dessie feared she had made a mis- 
 take. But she went on with it. 
 
 "If you told him anything, then I can only conclude 
 that he has played me false. He knew perfectly well 
 that I should not have come here, had I thought to meet 
 you. The reasons which made me keep away, even from 
 my own rooms, when you were going to call there, would 
 have had ten times their strength in such a case as this."
 
 152 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 The Baronet saw the discrepancy in her words, and 
 gave away the important secret in the eagerness to score 
 the little point against her. 
 
 "You have just now said that he could have told me 
 nothing, because at that time you had not even formed the 
 plan in your own thoughts. I could not therefore have 
 come down on any but my own initiative." 
 
 " Do you mean that this meeting is the result of pure 
 chance, Sir Edmund ? " 
 
 " Don't say ' Sir ' Edmund, Dessie," he said. " Try 
 and be a little less hard with me. What I said in my 
 letter is all absolutely true. Come out; you've got your 
 things on, I see. I'll tell you the whole cause of my 
 being down here. You don't know the influence you have 
 with me. I'll do anything you like, anything you tell me, 
 if only you'll listen to me." 
 
 It was all plain enough to the girl now, and it was 
 with a feeling of dismay that she followed her companion 
 out of the hotel. 
 
 " Well," she said, when for some time he made no at- 
 tempt to speak, " what have you to tell me? " 
 
 " I'm going to make a confession to you. I've been 
 within an ace of behaving a brute to you again. You can 
 believe me or not, as you please, but I swear to you it's 
 true what I wrote. I've been looking for you for months 
 for years, indeed ever since we parted. I didn't know 
 then how much you were to me; now, I ' 
 
 " I am engaged to marry Mr. Cheriton, Sir Edmund ; 
 and I cannot let you talk in this way." 
 
 " I know you're engaged, and it was that that maddened 
 me when the Count de Montalt told me. It seemed such 
 bitter disappointment just when I'd found you, to hear 
 that we were further apart than ever. Are you sure you 
 care for him "
 
 The Truth 153 
 
 " Yes, quite. As sure as that I have long since ceased 
 to care for or even think about, you," said Dessie, curtly. 
 " But you asked me to come out that you might tell me 
 the cause of your being here." 
 
 " It's not much good telling you anything, if that's 
 the way you can speak to me, after all the years we 
 have known one another," said the man. doggedly, after 
 a pause. 
 
 " Well, but did you think that, after you had treated 
 me as no honourable man ever yet treated a woman, I 
 should be waiting and eating my heart out for love of 
 you all eagerness to fall into your arms the moment you 
 held up a beckoning finger? " 
 
 " You loved me, then," he answered, looking at her 
 with the sullen look of a weak, selfish man, angry through 
 disappointment. 
 
 " I did many odd things in those days. I know the 
 world now, and have purchased my experience. I cer- 
 tainly do not love you now " she said this with a short 
 laugh. " You can pride yourself on having done one 
 thing thoroughly, at any rate, in your life disillusioned 
 me." 
 
 " But I want you. I have found out I cannot live 
 without you," he said, earnestly. " I have never ceased to 
 repent my abominable conduct. I see now how abomi- 
 nable it was." 
 
 " It is a tardy awakening and a useless one, so far as 
 I am concerned. Never in all my life will you stand in 
 my memory unconnected with that time of callous cow- 
 ardice." 
 
 " You are very bitter. It is not a Christian reception of 
 repentance." 
 
 " Christian ! " she repeated, looking at him with a 
 frown of amused doubt. " Christian ! Since when have
 
 154 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 you resumed the cant of those chapel days? I should 
 have thought you had shaken that off with your other 
 weaknesses. But I am not a Christian in that sense, 
 thank you," and Dessie shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " You mean by this attitude that you will not listen 
 to me?" 
 
 " If you mean by listening to you, letting you make 
 love to me in this style of infatuated folly with the least 
 idea that I can ever be more to you than I am now 
 sorry that I ever knew you, that is I will not listen to 
 you. But I will listen readily enough if you tell me why 
 you are here." 
 
 <r You are the reason. I mean what I say," he con- 
 tinued, with that repetition which weak men take for 
 doggedness and resolution. " I want you. I cannot live 
 without you. You will have to be my wife. I have 
 come down here now because of that resolve. I know 
 your sister is here ; and I can save you from the exposure 
 which you dread now as much as ever. Now you know 
 what I mean, and why I am here." 
 
 If he had known how much he had frightened her, he 
 would have felt more confidence than he showed. But 
 she steadied herself not to let him see what a blow he 
 had struck. 
 
 " I must undeceive you," she said, quietly. " Even if 
 you have as keen a willingness as you used to have to 
 use any means you can think of to strike at me, you are 
 powerless in this matter. You are apparently being made 
 a tool of by a man cleverer and more subtle than your- 
 self, and he has persuaded you that he can give you some 
 kind of power over me to break me to your will. Try 
 it," saul Dessie, stopping and looking with a confident 
 smile into his face. " Try it. Go to Mr. Cheriton. Tell 
 him all you know of me. Go where you will to expose
 
 The Truth 155 
 
 me. But remember that now I have the whip hand, not 
 you. When I was a governess you could go to my em- 
 ployer, and the whisper of a lie was enough to turn me 
 adrift. But try it with a woman journalist. Why, your 
 knowledge of the world will tell you that the only effect 
 would be to give me a splendid advertisement for my 
 works, and create a boom in my books. Think of it 
 a woman writer, with a real past ! No, no, Sir Edmund, 
 melodrama is as dead as morality. And if one's code 
 of morals and manners hadn't changed I shouldn't have 
 listened to you for a moment. You must try something 
 else." 
 
 " I will try whatever comes my way," he answered 
 savagely and sullenly. " You set me at defiance, then ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " I don't do anything so ridiculous. I merely tell you 
 that I can never marry you and that the sooner you put 
 away all thoughts of anything of the kind the better. 
 For the rest, go back to your instructor and get him to 
 give you a better and more honourable part to play." 
 
 " You are very blunt," he said, and he flushed with an- 
 ger. " I'll be equally blunt. I shall go through with this. 
 I won't give up the chance of winning you, by fair means 
 or foul, till you're married to this man, who has come 
 between us and perhaps not then. So I warn you," and 
 then thinking he had made rather an impressive speech, 
 he raised his hat and left Dessie, who stood looking after 
 him, half laughing at the absurdity, half afraid of what 
 his spite might do. 
 
 Then she went back to the hotel slowly and thought- 
 fully; and the first message that greeted her was that 
 Nurse Morland had called and was waiting to see her.
 
 DESSIE S RESOLVE 
 
 A GLANCE at her sister's face told Dessie that she too 
 had passed an anxious night. The expression was now 
 very hard, but the lines on the face seemed to have 
 deepened. 
 
 " I have still worse news for you than yesterday," said 
 Dessie. " Your fears as to this man's recklessness were 
 a safer guide than my belief in my own precautions. I 
 have found out that he went to my rooms in my ab- 
 sence, and of course ransacked the place, finding out 
 everything. He knows where you are; and he sent a man 
 here, following me, to see what happened, and probably 
 to watch your movements." 
 
 " How do you know this ? " asked the other, in a tone 
 that seemed dulled with suffering. 
 
 "I have seen the man and spoken to him. It is Sir 
 Edmund Landale." 
 
 " A gentleman to do spy's work? " 
 
 " No, not a gentleman : only a mean pitiful scoundrel 
 to whom accident has given wealth and a title," and she 
 told her sister briefly her former relations with Landale, 
 his conduct, and the purport of the conversation that 
 morning. 
 
 " How much does he know ? " asked Daphne, at the 
 end. 
 
 " I cannot tell. I have no idea." Then a long pause 
 followed. 
 
 '5*
 
 Dessie's Resolve 157 
 
 " I can see no escape," said the elder sister " save 
 one," she added in a low voice, almost a whisper. 
 
 "And that is?" 
 
 " We must let things go on as they will. I have been 
 thinking of it all night, and I wonder the poor wretch I 
 was nursing didn't die under my hands. Don't think 
 I'm afraid. I'm not such a coward as that. I have 
 piled up these flintstones for a bed, and I won't flinch 
 and cry out because -I have to lie on them. If I could have 
 spared myself the ordeal I would have done it ; but I can- 
 riot. It is hard ; damnably hard," the oath was a sudden 
 gust of passion that seemed to shake her violently > 
 " but every woman has to suffer in this world. But if 
 I have to go through with this, and I escape, I'll have 
 the man's life that exposes me." 
 
 " It will never come to that, Daphne," said her sister, 
 dismayed at the other's concentrated passion; but the 
 elder took no notice of the interruption, and continued 
 speaking very slowly. 
 
 " I wonder but men are poor things. Yet I've a 
 mind to try him. I told you yesterday there is a man 
 here who vows that he loves me, that he would go through 
 but there, you know a man's vows, I suppose. But 
 this, I believe is a good man, sincere, and honest, and 
 true. We were to have been married soon, but now " 
 
 " But you couldn't have married him without tell- 
 ing him the past, Daphne," said her sister, when she 
 paused. 
 
 " Couldn't ? Why not ? Do men tell their future wives 
 all the' secrets of their past? " Her sneer ended in a sigh 
 expressive of the predominant feeling. " But never mind. 
 It is all over. I can't go to him and say ' I am likely to 
 be tried for murder, and if tried to be convicted. Will 
 you fly the country for my sake and with me?' Ancj
 
 158 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 yet " here her voice sank again to a whisper of despair 
 " if I lose him I care nothing what lies ahead." 
 
 The mixture of raillery, passing sneers and unmis 
 takable misery affected the younger girl till she could 
 not speak; and the fresh pause was broken by Daphne, 
 who spoke more decidedly. 
 
 " I can take only one course with you, Dorothy," she 
 said. " I shall leave you absolutely free to seek your 
 own happiness your own way. I had some thought dur- 
 ing the night of appealing to you to try and save me 
 from what has to come. But I will not do that. I cannot. 
 I have not a vestige of right. You gave the mother a 
 pledge that if at any time the need arose you would do 
 all that lay in your power to help me. I know you would 
 now hold by that pledge, even if it cost you your hap- 
 piness. But I will not let you. I won't accept the 
 sacrifice. You could not make it ungrudgingly; and I 
 want no unwilling help. I don't mean that unkindly," 
 she said, seeing the girl wince, " but I know human 
 nature/' 
 
 Dessie made no attempt to speak. 
 
 " You had better do this. Go back to London you 
 can do no good here. You know all that has to be known. 
 Take your own course. Set this man at defiance; but 
 for God's sake be careful of your own saiety. He would 
 think no more of taking your life than he would of stamp- 
 ing on some venomous thing that threatened him. Be 
 prepared for any action on his part, however wild, reck- 
 less, and desperate. He is capable of anything. I warn 
 you and not a soul on earth knows what he is capable of 
 doing so well as I do. Wait a minute/' she said, when 
 her sister was going to speak, " I ask only one thing. 
 Let me know the instant you have decided and have set 
 him at defiance. Any form of warning will do ; and after
 
 Bessie's Resolve 159 
 
 that I can take my chance. I disappeared before, and can 
 probably do so again. If not " 
 
 " If not," echoed the other, questioningly. 
 
 11 No matter." 
 
 " I understand you, of course," said Dessie, now much 
 calmer. " And I will tell you what I mean to do. I shall 
 not do what you propose. I should hate myself for ever 
 for a contemptible thing if I bought my happiness at the 
 cost of yours. Besides, what chance is there that either 
 of us can be happy with that awful secret over our 
 heads? Do you think I would marry a man that other 
 people should be able to point at and say his wife was 
 the centre of such a scandal as this? Not for half the 
 world. No, Daphne, your secret is safe in my keeping. 
 What -I have to do to keep it I will do. Heaven knows 
 it's hard, but it is not so hard as to marry a man you love 
 and to see his love die as most surely it would from 
 the daily dropping of poison distilled from such a secret 
 as this." 
 
 The elder sister sat listening with almost painful in- 
 tensity; and when the other stopped she remained long 
 silent, frowning, her brow contracted as if in pain, her 
 fingers tightly interlocked, and her body swaying slightly 
 to and fro. 
 
 a I must go," she said at length, speaking very heavily, 
 and rising. " It is all a problem with no solution. If 
 I were to fly, it would not help you. My death would not 
 save you, as you look at the matter. If I gave myself up, 
 it would only make matters worse. Promise me one 
 thing," she said. " Do nothing rashly. I have one idea 
 that may take shape. Do nothing too quickly." 
 
 " Everything must be settled quickly," returned Des- 
 sie. " And what hope can any delay give ? " 
 
 With that the two sisters parted, and an Hour later
 
 1 60 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie was in the train on her way back to London, feel- 
 ing even more baffled than before her visit. Before the 
 interview with her sister there had been the faint hope 
 that some link in the chain that bound her was weak or 
 missing, but her sister's statements and admissions de- 
 stroyed that hope completely ; and what the girl had now 
 to face was the dilemma in its ugliest, most repulsive, 
 most threatening, and most perplexing form. 
 
 She had to choose between her friend and her sister. 
 She must either keep silent, and let Mrs. Markham marry 
 a man who was worse than many a wretch who had 
 expiated his crime on the scaffold, or expose her sister to 
 the certainty of a prosecution for murder, and to the prob- 
 ability of a conviction. 
 
 To herself and her own share of suffering she paid lit- 
 tle heed. The thought of her sister having to stand 
 in the dock to answer the charge of murder, and having 
 the whole of the lurid facts of her past life brought out 
 one by one in the course of a series of sensational exam- 
 inations, so filled her imagination that it crowded out for 
 the moment the thought of her own part. She became a 
 necessary part of the tragedy, but only a minor part. 
 
 Her journalistic experience caused her to appreciate 
 to the full the sensation which such a case would create. 
 She had helped to work up others of the kind in which 
 there was not a tithe of the incident and dramatic detail 
 of this; and she knew how greedily every little incident 
 and detail would be seized on and dressed up in readable 
 " copy " for the million. There was material enough in 
 the incidents to sell hundreds of thousands of extra 
 papers. 
 
 Even her own story with its extraordinary recovery 
 of the Rohilkund jewels would be worked up into a
 
 Dessie's Resolve 161 
 
 series of sensations, each " palpitating with actuality," 
 and making splendid " copy." It was possible, too, that 
 if her sister with her awful past were charged with mur- 
 der, Dessie herself might be charged as in some way an 
 accessory in the theft of the jewels. When once public 
 excitement and rage were excited, there was no knowing 
 what victim would be claimed. 
 
 Now that she viewed her own conduct in the light of 
 her present mood, she could not help seeing that very 
 few people would believe her story of the way in which 
 the rubies had come into her possession. She herself 
 had before now poured scorn upon many a more prob- 
 able story; and she could anticipate vividly the hundred 
 tones of scepticism in which writers would ask where was 
 the mysterious unknown who carried jewels worth a 
 king's ransom in a handbag without knowing anything 
 about it, and then opened an anonymous correspondence 
 to give the jewels away! 
 
 When the whole country would thus be ridiculing and 
 denouncing her, and she was proclaimed in the face of 
 all the world as the possessor of jewels whose price had 
 been murder, as a liar whose tale was too improbable 
 for even a child to believe, and as the sister of a woman 
 who had only ceased to be a public harlot when she be- 
 came a murderess, what would her lover do dear, brave, 
 honest Tom Cheriton ? What could he do ? 
 
 A little glow of exultation warmed the miserable girl's 
 heart as it harboured the thought that he would stand 
 by her, believe in her, and know her to be true, despite 
 all the world might say and think. To her that consola- 
 tion would be enough ; and for some minutes she pleased 
 herself by thinking of it, and picturing the sturdy face and 
 loving eyes of her betrothed standing quietly and firmly
 
 1 62 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 by her side, cheering her with word and glance, and 
 turning to face the whole sneering, gibing, threatening 
 world in her defence. 
 
 She felt sure of him ; but the test was one which could 
 never be applied. 
 
 Let come what might, Daphne must never be betrayed. 
 That was the one resolution which must dominate every- 
 thing else. She must be saved at all hazards ; and Dessie 
 did not attempt to hide from herself what this involved 
 for her. 
 
 First, it meant the separation of her lover and herself. 
 She could not tell him the truth now ; and she would not 
 marry him without telling him. Even had she been able 
 to tell him all, she would still have refused to be his 
 wife. She was no fit wife for him. The shadow of some 
 exposure hung over her. At any moment an accident 
 might cut the thread by which the sword hung over her 
 head, and it might fall. That was too great a burden to 
 put on any man's love, too great a risk to thrust into his 
 life. She loved Tom well enough to sacrifice herself to 
 him; and too much to sacrifice him to herself. 
 
 When she had settled those two points had fixed the 
 main basis of her decision that her sister must be saved ; 
 and had faced the necessity to give up her lover she 
 was calmer and easily decided upon other points. 
 
 She would make the best terms possible with the Count ; 
 if possible to get him to abandon the marriage by giving 
 him the jewels. If he would not forego the marriage she 
 must devote her life to watching over the safety of her 
 friend. 
 
 When the train reached Grantham her plans had suffi- 
 ciently cleared for her to send a telegram to Mrs. Mark- 
 ham, saying that she would be back at her house that 
 afternoon. Her intention was to go to South Kensington
 
 Bessie's Resolve 163 
 
 after a hurried visit to her own rooms, to satisfy herself 
 whether her rooms had really been visited by the Count 
 in the manner she had heard from Sir Edmund Landale. 
 
 She was a brave, staunch little soul, but as she sat look- 
 ing out upon the country through which the train rushed, 
 she felt woefully forlorn, and weak and miserable. As 
 the distance between her and London decreased so her 
 sense of depression increased ; and as the train was steam- 
 ing under the series of short tunnels that cover the line 
 close to the terminus, the thought occurred to her that in 
 all the millions of hearts in the big city none was more 
 gloomy and heavy laden than her own. 
 
 " I suppose I shall get over it in time," she thought. 
 " They say that people get used even to penal servitude 
 or to some long lingering, wasting illness ; but to-day I 
 can't feel that it's possible I shall ever shake off the 
 awful weight that seems trying to drag me down. And 
 to think it could never have happened if it had not been 
 for that chance exchange of bags that day at Birmingham. 
 What fools we are to think anything can be a trifle ! " 
 
 When the train drew up in the station she jumped out 
 quickly and walked at a brisk pace along the platform; 
 but she had barely left the carriage when she met the 
 Count de Montalt, who raised his hat, and greeted her 
 with his usual overdone politeness. 
 
 " It was thoughtful of you to let me know that you 
 would arrive by this train, Miss Merrion. The moment 
 Mrs. Markham showed me your telegram, despatched 
 from Grantham, I guessed that you were en route, and a 
 single reference showed me the time of your arrival. 
 You knew, of course, that I should be anxious as to the 
 result of your visit to your sister at Middlesbridge, and 
 I presumed you wished to let me know it at the earliest 
 moment. I thank you for your consideration. I always
 
 1 64 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 appreciate little attentions of the kind, and am grateful 
 Well?" 
 
 It was easy to see that he was hiding some anxiety 
 under this assumption of lightness. 
 
 " You know perfectly well, of course, that what you 
 are saying has not the slightest shadow of foundation; 
 and that the last thing in the world which I could desire 
 is that you should be here to meet me, and give me a 
 single unnecessary minute of your presence." 
 
 He twisted his moustache, and thrust one end of it 
 between his teetH, keeping his eyes fixed on her closely 
 as she spoke. He seemed to be balancing every word, 
 and indeed attempting to interpret every tone of her 
 voice. 
 
 " Well, I am here, at any rate," he said, conveying by 
 his manner a suggestion that while he was naturally anx- 
 ious to hear what she might have to tell him, he was still 
 dangerous and to be feared. 
 
 " I am going first to my rooms ; I think you know 
 where they are," said Dessie, pausing and looking at 
 him. 
 
 " I have been under the necessity of calling there for 
 you in your absence," he replied, guessing instantly that 
 she and Landale had met, and that she knew of his visit. 
 " Though I did not see you yourself, it was not altogether 
 a useless call," he added. 
 
 " I know now what you stole/' answered Dessie. 
 
 "Do you think I am a thief?" he cried, as if indig- 
 nantly. He stopped and looked at her with an expression 
 of angry protest. They had left the station now and were 
 in the Huston Road. 
 
 " I do not think it ; I know it," answered Dessie, quietly. 
 
 " Ah, this is too much. We will test this now, if you
 
 " Here, constable I This lady has been robbed.' 
 
 Page f6j.
 
 Dessie's Resolve 165 
 
 please. There is a policeman. If -I am a thief you shall 
 give me in charge at once. Here, constable," he called 
 to the policeman, who came up leisurely and suspiciously, 
 " this lady has been robbed, and she wishes to give the 
 thief in charge. Now, you can do what you think best," 
 and he looked at her, as if daring her to give him in 
 custody. 
 
 " I have no charge to make. I do not want you," said 
 Dessie, sharply, to the policeman, and walked away at 
 a quick pace, the Count at her side, while the constable 
 looked after them, puzzled for a moment, his perplexity 
 evaporating in a smile, as he scanned them very shrewdly 
 and mentally catalogued them as a " couple of rum 'uns ; " 
 and then resumed his beat, turning now and again to 
 glance after them, till they crossed the Euston Road and 
 were lost in the distance. 
 
 " I understand all now," said the Count, quietly. " And 
 I congratulate you on your excellent common sense. You 
 have found out now that when I say a thing I mean it, 
 and that what I threaten, I can perform." He was con- 
 fident and sanguine again now. The little incident had 
 shown him that Dessie did not mean to set him at defiance, 
 and thus interfere with his plans; and with that all his 
 anxiety vanished. 
 
 Me Had still a point to make, as he meant to drive 
 home the conviction into her mind that her only safe 
 course was absolute silence and secrecy. He would ac- 
 cept no other terms. 
 
 They walked some distance without exchanging a 
 word, but when they were crossing one of the Squares 
 near to her rooms in Bloomsbury the Count said : 
 
 " I have no wish to trespass any longer than is neces- 
 sary, Miss Merrion ; and, indeed, I am overdue in South'
 
 1 66 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Kensington. If you will take one turn round this Square, 
 I can say all I wish to say." 
 
 " We had better go on to my rooms," answered Dessie, 
 curtly. " They are close here, as you know. We can 
 then speak without interruption, and I have probably 
 more to say to you than you to me." 
 
 " As you will," he assented, airily ; and they finished the 
 walk without another word. 
 
 As they entered, the housekeeper came to tell Dessie 
 that Tom Cheriton had called more than once the day be- 
 fore, and again that morning. Then she recognised the 
 Count, and he saluted her gaily with a laugh. 
 
 " More successful this time, you see," he said. " Not 
 got to wait a long time to-day without seeing Miss Mer- 
 rion ; " and the woman curtsied in remembrance of his 
 two shilling tip. " Saves you the trouble of your asking 
 her to identify me," he added, lightly, to Dessie, as they 
 went up the staircase. " And that was, of course, one 
 of your reasons for bringing me hers." Dessie made no 
 answer. His impudent audacity appeared to baffle her. 
 Then he threw himself into a chair, and, looking round, 
 said : " There's not much out of order, you'll find. I'm 
 sorry I couldn't manage to shut the safe again. That's 
 the only thing; but if you'll get it done and send me 
 the little bill, I will be only too pleased to settle it. It's 
 been a splendid investment." 
 
 " You need not boast about having come to the place 
 like the thief you are " 
 
 " Stay, Miss Merrion, please," he cried, in an altered 
 tone. " Don't make this business harder than it need be 
 by this kind of insult. Time presses, and we have more 
 to do than lose our tempers. In the first place, listen to 
 me, for now I am in deadly earnest " his manner was
 
 Dessie's Resolve 167 
 
 in thorough keeping with his words. " I know perfectly 
 well your errand to the north. I know what you have 
 found out there because I know the truth. I know the 
 alternative course you have to decide ; and I can see how 
 you have decided. You have resolved to hold your 
 tongue ; and a very wise decision, too, if you want to save 
 your sister's neck and your own identity and history and 
 false name from being the public property of every reader 
 of every half-penny sensational rag in the country. 
 You've fought the game well, and you're a plucky girl, 
 but all the pluck in the world can't fight down the odds 
 against you. You know my terms secrecy for secrecy, 
 with restoration of the Rohilkund rubies. But mark you, 
 not a sign or sound or syllable of what you know to any 
 living soul. And mark this least of all to Mr. Cheriton. 
 I know you will be tempted to tell him. But breathe a 
 single word to him, and I swear by the devil that the 
 very moment I hear of it I will tell the police where to 
 lay hands on the notorious Red Delilah. You know what 
 will follow. This is no child's-play. Now what do you 
 say?" 
 
 He read in her face all that it meant to her ; but he read 
 also that he was sure to win, and that she dared not re- 
 fuse. He waited, therefore, without impatience while 
 she fought for enough self-command to reply. 
 
 " On certain conditions," she said steadily, though her 
 voice was low, " I will hold my tongue ; but only on con- 
 ditions. "" 
 
 a And give up the jewels to me? " 
 
 " And give up the jewels to you." 
 
 " Do then, and you will find me grateful." He stopped 
 as his quick ear caught the sound of footsteps on the 
 staircase, and with a rapid instinct of self-preservatiotv;
 
 1 68 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 he added with passionate concentration " But remember, 
 not a word or hint to a soul as you value your sister's 
 life." 
 
 The words were scarcely out of his lips when a hurried 
 knock was struck on the door panel, the handle was 
 turned quickly, and Tom Cheriton burst in excitedly. 
 
 " I heard from the housekeeper you were back, Dessie, 
 but not that this gentleman was with you." He stopped 
 midway in a rush to take the girl in his arms, and look- 
 ing angrily at the Count, he asked " What business have 
 you here ? " 
 
 A hot answer rose to the Count's lips, but he pressed 
 it back, recognising the folly of pushing Dessie too far 
 at such a moment. 
 
 " The merest accident," he answered courteously. " I 
 was charged with a message to Miss Merrion from 
 her friend, Mrs. Markham, and was so fortunate as to 
 find her. I had delivered it, and was on the point of going 
 when you arrived. Miss Merrion, I wish you good after- 
 noon. You will not forget ? " He shot one glance of 
 warning at her as he turned. 
 
 " I shall not forget," she answered. 
 
 Tom Cheriton held the door open, and stared fixedly 
 and insultingly at the Count as he went out, and con- 
 tinued to look for a few moments as he went down the 
 stairs. Then he shut the door with a loud vicious slam. 
 
 " I hate that fellow, Dessie," he said, angrily. " And I 
 swear I'd give five pounds to have helped him down the 
 first flight with a kick. What did he want here, polluting 
 the place? And what did he mean about telling you not 
 to forget, and warning you with a look like that, eh? 
 Why, girlie, you look ill and miserable. What on earth's 
 the matter?" he asked, in a caressing tone, and went to
 
 Dessie's Resolve 169 
 
 take her in his arms. But she shrank from him, and 
 put out her hands to keep him off, saying : 
 
 " No, Tom. You must not come near me ; " and when 
 he looked at her in the deepest astonishment she threw 
 up her hands, and with a heavy sigh, cried, " I am the 
 most miserable girl in the world, and all is over between 
 us"!"
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 TOM CHERITON INTERVENES 
 
 TOM CHERITON continued to stare at Dessie until his 
 astonishment had given way to sympathy, sympathy to 
 speculation and speculation to close, shrewd, scrutinising 
 inquiry. 
 
 " Well, my dear child," he said, at length, " I suppose 
 you know what you're talking about, because, as a rule, 
 you're a particularly sharp, level-headed little woman ; but 
 at present I'm in the dark, absolutely and completely, and 
 must remain there until you tell me a little more about 
 things." 
 
 " I can tell you nothing. T Mr." she stopped and 
 hesitated, having begun to use his Christian name, and 
 next tried in vain to bring out his surname. 
 
 He laughed; not boisterously or in amusement, but 
 the encouraging, good-humoured, yet bantering laugh of 
 a friend. 
 
 " That's no use, Dessie," he said, brightly, as he looked 
 at her. " My name's Tom, not T, and considering the 
 number of times I've kissed those lips, and they've kissed 
 me, you can't be so hard on them as to expect they can 
 still say ' Mr. Cheriton/ It's against human nature, 
 Dessie." He repeated her name, and emphasised the 
 repetition. 
 
 Dessie said nothing, and the man's heart ached as He 
 saw that she was suffering keenly. 
 
 170
 
 Tom Cheriton Intervenes 171 
 
 " What is the matter, Dessie ? " he said, after a pause. 
 " If you can tell me, do. I've been full of trouble about 
 you since I saw your telegram and letter yesterday." 
 
 " I can't tell you anything, Tom," she answered. " I 
 can't really. My lips are sealed. I can't say a word." 
 
 " Well, my dear, I shan't press you to speak, if you tell 
 me that. If I am certain of anything on this earth, it 
 is that you love me. There's only one thing I'm more 
 certain of, and that is that I love you. I'm not saying 
 that to swagger about it. I can't help loving you, Dessie, 
 and I could no more put you out of my life than I could 
 put an end to life itself; and God forbid I should ever 
 harbour a thought of that kind." 
 
 He paused, and in an instant continued : 
 
 " For love like ours and we're not a couple who wear 
 the advertisement of our mutual feeling on our sleeves- 
 there's only one possible foundation absolute trust. It 
 follows, then, that in a thing like this I cannot have the 
 slightest shadow of a doubt that you are doing what you 
 think best. You are making a howling mistake, of course. 
 You'll come to see that some day." He paused to glance 
 at her with a smile of cheering goodwill and confidence, 
 " But, till then, nothing that you or anyone else on this 
 great, glorious earth of ours can say, do, hint, act, or 
 pretend can ever shake my confidence in you. You feel 
 that ? " He stopped for an answer this time, meaning to 
 draw her to speak gradually. 
 
 " You don't understand, Tom," said the girl, when 
 her lover appeared determined to wait till she did answer. 
 
 " No, I know that," he returned promptly. " Not yet, 
 that is. But I mean to know all about it. No " seeing 
 her about to protest " nothing you can say will stop me 
 following this thing out to the end. I'm not without 
 clues, already."
 
 172 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " You must promise me to make no inquiries," said 
 Dessie. 
 
 " I shall promise nothing of the kind. Listen, Dessie. 
 You have promised to be my wife. Up to two or three 
 days ago there was not a cloud between us. Not a 
 thought we did not share." 
 
 " That is not right, Tom," interposed Dessie. Her 
 lover's protested intention to find out what had hap- 
 pened appealed to her fears, and roused her. " There 
 must be an end to all secrecy " 
 
 " A beginning, you mean," he interpolated. 
 
 " An end," she repeated quietly. " There has always 
 been a secret between us. There was always something 
 I had to tell you which all the same remained untold. 
 Something connected with myself my past life." 
 
 " Was it anything you meant to keep me ignorant of 
 if we married, Dessie ? " he asked quietly. " But there, 
 why ask a thing like that? Do I believe you are a girl 
 who would give yourself to a man when you thought 
 there was anything in your life that rendered you un- 
 worthy, even in your own opinion? Psh! Do I believe 
 the sun goes round the earth? Or that the Lord Chan- 
 cellor is necessarily the best lawyer in the country? Or 
 any other obvious fallacy? " 
 
 " You have never believed I could treat you in this 
 way: Break my faith and my word without a word of 
 explanation. And yet I'm doing it." 
 
 " Precisely ; and the fact only shows me how strong you 
 believe the necessity to be. But it doesn't prove you 
 unfaithful to me," answered Tom, imperturbably. " Per- 
 haps you'll ask me next to believe you've ceased to love 
 me. No, no, Dessie. I'm not going to let you cheat me 
 in this way. I'll just make it clear to you, however, 
 what I really feel and believe."
 
 Tom Cheriton Intervenes 173 
 
 w Tom, I give you my word that nothing you can say 
 or do can alter this. Nothing you can find out can even 
 affect the end in the slightest. All that can happen would 
 be that you would see the inevitable necessity as clearly 
 as I do now." 
 
 " Well, that would be something gained, at any rate," 
 he answered with dry good humour. " For at present I 
 see no necessity at all. Listen to me. Despite all you 
 say about the secret that you were going to tell, but 
 haven't yet told, you and I were in full expectation, three 
 days ago, of being married. When we parted here with 
 the thought, which was a little envious, perhaps, that Mrs. 
 Markham was likely to be married before us, neither of 
 us had the remotest idea that anything could happen to 
 part us in any way, but certainly not like this. Had we? " 
 
 " It can do no good to think any more of this, Tom." 
 
 " Very well, then, it's clear, whether you answer or not, 
 that whatever this is it is something that has happened 
 since then. It is nothing on my side or to do with me, 
 and it follows it must be to do with you. What has 
 happened in the meantime, then? Obviously, the only 
 thing of consequence is Mrs. Markham's return." 
 
 " Don't carry this any further, Tom," pleaded Dessie ; 
 but he paid no heed to her, and continued. 
 
 " Now, it's not to do with Mrs. Markham. Yes, I 
 know that," he said, seeing Dessie start. " But it has to 
 do with the man who is going to marry her. That I know 
 from Mrs. Markham herself, because she said that you 
 were the same as ever when you both met, but that she 
 noticed the change afterwards after you and this Count 
 de Montalt had met. I know, therefore, where to look 
 at the start. Now, one question, and even that I don't 
 press : Is there anything you can tell me on that head ? " 
 
 " No, Tom. All I ask you is that if you really care
 
 174 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 for me you will not make any inquiry at all. Leave things 
 where they are. Nothing can alter them." 
 
 " That I cannot consent to do for both our sakes, child. 
 I would rather you told me everything freely and left me 
 to judge ; but if you cannot and you may in some way 
 have been forced and bound to secrecy I shall be the 
 last to press you. But I must find it out, even if I take 
 that scoundrel by the throat and wring the truth out of 
 him. And I'm capable of doing that in the last resort." 
 
 Dessie shook her head slowly, and lifting her hands 
 let them fall with a gesture of despondency. 
 
 " It can do no good, Tom, not the least. If you wrung 
 everything out of him it would only show you what this 
 bar between us is, and how hopeless." 
 
 His knowledge of her was so shrewd that he could not 
 but he impressed by her stolid insistence upon this ; but he 
 was vexed with himself at the same time for his inability 
 to resist the feeling. Till this moment he had not gone 
 very close to her side, but now he moved very quickly to 
 her, and before she could resist his arm was round her 
 waist, her hand fast clasped in his and her face close to 
 his, while he spoke rapidly and with passion. 
 
 " Dessie, you must not cast me away like this. You 
 haven't thought what you are doing. You haven't 
 thought what it really is and all that it means to us both. 
 You give me no word of reason or ground, but merely 
 ' We must part. There is a bar which makes our mar- 
 riage impossible.' That must not be. Do this. Marry 
 me at once. I'll take you on trust, sweetheart, with all 
 the barriers and everything else. If you don't love me 
 there is no such thing as love anywhere. If you're not as 
 genuine and true a little woman as ever breathed there 
 is no genuineness in woman. Come, dearest, kiss me 
 and say yes."
 
 Tom Cheriton Intervenes 175 
 
 For a moment she clung to him, kissing him with quite 
 unusual warmth, and he thought she was consenting. 
 But it was only that she found it impossible to resist the 
 temptation of the caress he offered, even though it should 
 be the last. 
 
 " Don't make this harder for me than it is, dear," she 
 whispered. " It is worse than death itself to part from 
 you. But part we must. All I can say is that since we 
 met last I have discovered a reason I did not know 
 before, which makes it impossible for me to marry 
 you. I am not fit to be your wife." She said the last 
 words slowly and falteringly, and drooped her head. 
 
 Cheriton took his arm from her waist and placing both 
 hands on her shoulders held her so that their faces were 
 close together, and she could not help looking at him. 
 He gazed kindly and gravely into her eyes, and then 
 shaking his head, he said gently and with a smile, 
 
 " Dessie, for the first time since I've known you, you've 
 told me what I can't believe. ' Not fit to be my wife.' 
 My dear, that is not true and don't ever say it again, or 
 try to deceive me in that way. But I won't make this 
 harder for you. God knows I can see it's hard enough. 
 Listen, and don't try to break away. Kiss me once more. 
 I don't give you up, Dessie. I won't. I don't care what 
 you think the bar is and I don't mean to let you continue 
 to think what you do about it. You are a clever little 
 body, but in this fight you're overweighted. That man's 
 too many for you : and he frightens you. But he won't 
 frighten me. And I'm going straight off now to see 
 him." 
 
 " Don't go, Tom. Please don't. You don't know what 
 you are doing. I know you want to do what is best : but 
 do believe me this is impossible. You can only do harm. 
 Please, please don't go to him."
 
 176 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " My dear child, anyone who plays on a woman's fears 
 in the way this fellow is doing is a scoundrel to be faced 
 by a man whom he can't bully, and not by a woman whom 
 he can." 
 
 " But I have done this voluntarily. If I could alter it, 
 I would not." 
 
 " Which only shows me his hold over you is all the 
 stronger. But a thousand words won't move me from 
 this purpose, child. I should be a craven fool if I refused 
 to follow where my love, my instinct, and my judgment 
 all point. Do you think -I don't hold you worth a fight ? 
 Don't be too downcast, Dessie. This will turn out much 
 less terrible than you think when I face it and face it I 
 will at once. Good-bye; you may kiss me. We're still 
 just as much engaged as ever; and our marriage will 
 scarcely be delayed an hour in consequence of it." 
 
 The girl kissed him, and his resolute confidence had 
 some little effect in easing her mind ; but she answered : 
 
 " It's no use. Nothing can do any good." Her tone 
 was not so gloomy, however, and her lover noticed this 
 with pleasure as he went out of the room with a smile 
 and a cheery look. But his face gloomed and he frowned 
 in deep perplexity before he reached the bottom of the 
 stairs, so that the housekeeper who saw him leave the 
 house thought he and Dessie had quarrelled. 
 
 As he walked away he was very troubled and anxious 
 at all that had passed, but quite clear as to his first step. 
 He would see the Count de Montalt, or whoever he was, 
 and try to get from him a clue to the mystery. 
 
 He had first to go to his chambers. His uncle was no 
 Setter, and Tom had felt great reluctance about staying 
 in London the previous night. Telegrams were to be 
 sent to him that day reporting progress, however, and his
 
 Tom Cheriton Intervenes 177 
 
 object now was to ascertain if any had arrived during his 
 absence, and also to arrange for their being sent on to 
 him at South Kensington. 
 
 He was completely baffled by the turn which things 
 had taken. It was clear that in some way this de Montalt 
 had gained some strong and extraordinary influence over 
 Dessie, but why should he use it to prevent their mar- 
 riage? What on earth could it matter to that man 
 whether Dessie was married or not ? For a long time he 
 could not get away from that thought, and by no in- 
 genuity could he suggest an answer to the question. 
 
 Who was the man? There were several ways of at- 
 tempting to find out a man's antecedents and past career ; 
 but in this case the task seemed the more difficult because 
 he had absolutely nothing to go on. He knew no more 
 about him than that he called himself the Count de Mon- 
 talt, had picked up Mrs. Markham through George 
 Vezey, and meant to marry her. Vezey himself knew 
 nothing. 
 
 He was turning these considerations over and over in 
 his thoughts all the way to South Kensington ; and could 
 get to no satisfactory conclusion. 
 
 He found Mrs. Markham and the Count together, and 
 at once explained to the former that he wished to have a 
 few minutes' conversation with her companion alone. 
 The two men went at once to the library. 
 
 " I want to speak to you about Miss Merrion," said 
 Tom, plunging right into the subject. " I have just had 
 a long conversation with her, and I gather from it that 
 you have some hold over her by which you have induced 
 or compelled her to take a course which has plunged her 
 into great unhappiness, and Has caused her to break off 
 her engagement to marry me."
 
 178 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " In what capacity do you come to me ? " asked de 
 Montalt, with a sneer. " Do you wish me to meddle in 
 your love affairs ? " 
 
 " No, I do not," said Tom, sternly. " And if you can- 
 not speak civilly to me, I shall be glad if you will not 
 speak at all." 
 
 The other man shrugged his shoulders as a reply. 
 
 " I ask you first what is the nature of this hold you 
 have?" 
 
 " Has Miss Merrion told you I have any hold at all ? " 
 
 " Miss Merrion has not told me a syllable of any kind. 
 You have seemingly closed her lips with your threats. 
 But I am speaking of what I can see for myself." 
 
 " Then you had better carry your observations farther, 
 and find out the answers to your own questions." 
 
 " Do you deny that you have put this pressure upon 
 her?" 
 
 " I neither admit nor deny anything. I simply decline 
 to answer you. I presume Miss Merrion is able to decide 
 for herself ; and if she doesn't like you, how can I compel 
 her to marry you ? " 
 
 " I will put it in this way," said Tom, passing over the 
 insult. " In consequence of what has passed between 
 you and Miss Merrion this change has been brought 
 about. Will you give me any clue to the reasons for it ? " 
 
 " If I had any I wouldn't give it," was the curt and 
 angry reply. 
 
 " Very good," said Tom, firmly. " I have come in the 
 first instance straight to you. I have other steps to take ; 
 and you will not suppose that I intend to let this matter 
 alone until I have plumbed it to the bottom. I am not 
 without means of ascertaining all that lies behind, and 
 my practice as a criminal barrister has taught me to be 
 suspicious of any man who trades on the fears of women
 
 to compel them to be silent. You are doing that; and 
 I will know the reason why. I warn you well in ad- 
 vance, and I hold a clue to your motives and your past 
 which you have little anticipated would come my way." 
 
 " When you connect me with your criminal practice, 
 you forget yourself, sir," said de Montalt, with an as- 
 sumption of greatly offended dignity, as he rose and 
 walked toward the door. 
 
 " I will come with you," said Tom readily. " My first 
 intention is to explain your grossly dishonourable con- 
 duct to Mrs. Markham, and I prefer greatly to do it to 
 your face ; " and with that they returned to the room 
 where they had left the widow. When they entered the 
 room, however, there was a surprise for them both, as 
 Dessie Merrion was in close conversation with her friend.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE COUNT'S NEXT MOVE 
 
 DESSIE rose in some surprise not unmingled with alarm 
 and agitation when the two men entered ; and she directed 
 a glance of somewhat eager appeal at Cheriton. But 
 though he saw and understood the look, he answered it 
 only by shaking his head and smiling to her. 
 
 " I am very glad you are here, Dessie, as what I have 
 to say now concerns all who are present you as well, 
 Mrs. Markham, and I would much rather say it when we 
 are all together." Mrs. Markham was a little perplexed 
 by this opening, and looked toward her lover, who imme- 
 diately went to her side and sat down, with a slight shrug 
 of the shoulders and a lifting of the hands and eyebrows 
 intended to suggest his complete inability to understand 
 Cheriton's action. 
 
 " Is anything the matter, Mr. Cheriton ? " asked the 
 widow. 
 
 " Yes, a great deal is the matter, and I want you to help 
 to put things right. You know that Dessie " 
 
 " Stop, Tom," interrupted the girl. " You know noth- 
 ing can alter things. I have told you so. This can do 
 no good." 
 
 " My dear girl, I am going my own way in this," he 
 answered. 
 
 " Have you two quarrelled then ? " cried Mrs. Mark- 
 ham, not without a suspicion of a smile. In her present 
 
 1 80
 
 The Count's Next Move 1 8 1 
 
 frame of mind a lovers' quarrel was about the most inter- 
 esting thing on earth. 
 
 " Quarrelled? No, certainly not," cried Cheriton, with 
 a smile. " Bessie and I would never think of doing any- 
 thing like that. But between us there has come some 
 kind of barrier which I think you you and that gentle- 
 man " waving his hand towards the Count, who smiled, 
 " can help to remove. That is, if you will." 
 
 " If we will. Of course we will, won't we, Godefroi ? " 
 said Mrs. Markham, with ready good nature. 
 
 " I have already explained to Mr. Cheriton that I know 
 nothing whatever about it, and can do nothing much as 
 I regret it." He added the last sentence as a sort of con- 
 cession to Mrs. Markham's appeal. 
 
 " Whatever does it all mean ? " she cried, looking in 
 perplexity from one to the other. " Have you all got a 
 lot of secrets ? " 
 
 "It is the secret I wish you to help me to find," said 
 Cheriton, an answer that puzzled Mrs. Markham more 
 than ever. 
 
 " Why don't you ask Dessie ? " she cried. " I don't 
 understand." 
 
 " This shall all be made plain now, if you will give me 
 one moment. On the day you were coming back " 
 
 " Tom ! " cried Dessie, with an interrupting protest. 
 
 " Dessie and I were just the same as usual," continued 
 Cheriton, taking no notice of the interruption. " We had 
 a cup of tea together and a chat, and both of us were 
 looking forward to the time of our marriage. That eve- 
 ning she came here. You have already told me that she 
 was in her usual spirits when she first met you, and that 
 everything was just the same as usual. That evening 
 she was introduced to this gentleman " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Mrs. Markham, momen-
 
 1 82 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 tarily alarmed that Tom was going to say something 
 which would show her own love affair to be in jeopardy. 
 " What has that to do with with the Count de Mon- 
 talt?" 
 
 " That is precisely what I do not know ; what I want 
 to know. I want you to now ask M. de Montalt 
 whether he can give you any reason for this." 
 
 " Godefroi ! " asked Mrs. Markham, turning to him. 
 
 " You had better let Mr. Cheriton say all he wishes to 
 say. If I can help him to a better understanding with 
 Miss Merrion, though I am a comparative stranger, I 
 shall of course be delighted for your sake." He 
 dropped his voice at the last three words, and pointed 
 them with a glance. 
 
 " I left London the day after Dessie came here," said 
 Tom Cheriton, " and then I got a letter from Dessie 
 hinting that some kind of trouble was brewing; then 
 another urging me to come back at once; and then a 
 telegram and another letter couched in the same urgent 
 terms. I came, of course, and as you know, Dessie was 
 away; no one knew where or for what. I waited until 
 to-day, and on going to her rooms this afternoon I 
 found that gentleman there " 
 
 " Godefroi ! " exclaimed Mrs. Markham, starting. 
 
 " There had obviously been a serious conversation be- 
 tween them, and one of the results was that Dessie 
 met me in a condition of some hysterical emotion; said 
 that all was at an end between us; that she could not 
 give me any reason whatever; that she was bound to 
 silence; but that the separation had nothing to do with 
 any change in her feelings toward me. That man is the 
 cause ; " and Tom pointed at the Count, who assumed 
 the demeanour of a somewhat amused but quite uncon-
 
 The Count's Next Move 183 
 
 cerned spectator. " There has been no other possible 
 cause for this change in Dessie." 
 
 " Were you in Bessie's rooms ? " asked Mrs. Markham 
 of the Count, going straight to the one part which 
 seemed to touch her personally, and showing her sus- 
 picions in her manner. 
 
 " My dear child, if you will think a moment you will 
 see that I could be nowhere else, if I wished to please 
 you," answered the Count. " I knew your anxiety on 
 Miss Merrion's account; I saw you were troubled; and 
 it grieved me. When the telegram came from her I 
 thought I would go and see that all was well with this 
 eccentric young woman journalist. If not, and there was 
 bad news of any kind, I should better know how to break 
 it to you than anyone else in the world. At least, I 
 thought so. I met her at the station, and walked with 
 her to her rooms. That is all/' he said, with the air of a 
 man who has explained away a point that need and 
 should have puzzled nobody. 
 
 " You need not have gone in," said the widow. 
 
 " We had not finished talking, and there was her bag 
 to carry. That is all," he returned, lying blithely and 
 glibly. 
 
 " What was the subject of a conversation so engrossing 
 that you could not finish it in the street ? " cried Tom. 
 
 " Miss Merrion may think me rudely forgetful," said 
 the other man, with a laugh, " if I have to admit that I 
 have forgotten all except the statement that there was 
 nothing the matter and no cause for anyone to be uneasy 
 on her account. She had been away for private reasons, 
 as well as a business engagement. Was there anything 
 else, Miss Merrion ? " he asked, looking across at Dessie. 
 
 " I am stopping here only to listen. I will not say a
 
 1 84 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 word," said the girl ; and then added impetuously, " Tom, 
 this is cruel." 
 
 " No, child, it is only necessary," he returned. Then 
 to the Count he said, " Do I understand you to say that 
 Miss Merrion is perfectly at liberty to say anything and 
 everything that passed ? " 
 
 " At liberty ? How can she be otherwise ? What right 
 have I to impose restrictions? Your conduct is most 
 extraordinary," and de Montalt drew himself up as in 
 anger. 
 
 " Never mind my conduct. I can look after myself, 
 thank you. You are fencing with my question. Do you 
 now, in the presence of all of us, withdraw the prohibition 
 to speak ? " 
 
 " That question assumes that I have laid some sort of 
 vow of perpetual silence upon her an altogether ridicu- 
 lous assumption." 
 
 " Yet a correct one," put in Tom sharply. 
 
 " Nonsense. Miss Merrion is as much mistress of her 
 own tongue as you are of yours." 
 
 " You mean by that, you will not take any of the steps 
 you have threatened if she speaks freely to me? 
 
 " I mean that I decline to be a party to prolonging any 
 such ridiculous scene as this. If Miss Merrion wishes 
 to tell you any secret that she may have she must be the 
 judge as to the advisability of doing so. If she will not, 
 well, you must really scold her, not me." His manner 
 galled Cheriton, but before he could reply Mrs. Markham 
 said: 
 
 " Dessie, dear, what do you say ? What is it all ? Is 
 there anything? If so, why don't you speak?" Mrs. 
 Markham was quite appeased by the Count's attitude. 
 
 " I have nothing to say," said Dessie. " Nothing, that 
 \s, with any hope in it. I have told Tom to-day all that
 
 The Count's Next Move 185 
 
 can fre told. I can do no more. I am miserable enough 
 already." 
 
 " Well, I must say I think you ought to speak out 
 plainly. There can be no reason whatever for silence 
 that I can see. As to the mistake which Mr. Cheriton 
 appears to have made about Godefroi I'm sure he hasn't 
 meant anything by it, but it's all nonsense ; and as Gode- 
 froi says, you can turn your thoughts inside out for all 
 he cares. So if you can explain, I think you ought to." 
 There was more than a sprinkling of vinegar in these 
 references to the Count, and a quite unnecessary sharp- 
 ness in the manner in which, after a slight pause while 
 she had been waiting for Dessie to speak, she added 
 " You must know, my dear, that this kind of mysterious 
 secrecy does more harm than anything else, and destroys 
 more friendships than any other cause. It has made me 
 feel quite uncomfortable myself; and I do hope you'll 
 have no more of it." 
 
 " This scene must end," said Cheriton, rather abruptly, 
 as he saw that they were gliding towards a quarrel. " I 
 began it, and with but one more word I will finish my 
 part of it. Will you, Mrs. Markham, put the question 
 point blank to that gentleman. Has he or has he not 
 had anything to do with the cause of this change? Can 
 he throw any light upon it ? " 
 
 " I have already told " began the Count, when Cheri- 
 ton interrupted him bluntly. 
 
 " I have not asked you to answer me. Will you 
 do this, Mrs. Markham?" He turned questioningly to 
 her. 
 
 " I see no object to be gained, Mr. Cheriton. I should 
 only be expressing a doubt of yours which I do not 
 share." 
 
 " Can't you see that we are all drifting out to sea, Tom,
 
 1 86 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 the longer this continues ? " exclaimed Dessie, anxiously. 
 " I tell you again and again, nothing can be done." 
 
 " We are at sea already, I think," he answered, irri- 
 tated by his complete failure. " But as for doing noth- 
 ing, that shall be my business. I am sorry to have trou- 
 bled you, Mrs. Markharn, but much more sorry that you 
 have interpreted my conduct as I fear you have." 
 
 While he was speaking the servant brought in a tele- 
 gram for him. He glanced at it and rose at once. 
 
 " I should like a word with you before I go, Dessie," 
 he said. " My uncle is not so well, and they have wired 
 for me to go back at once," he said, when they were 
 alone. " Now my last word is this I won't release you 
 from your promise. You must marry me. I won't rest 
 until I have bottomed this ; and then that sneering impu- 
 dent beggar may look out for himself." 
 
 " I am as resolute as you. There is nothing to bottom 
 except that which must keep us apart for always. 
 Don't harbour a false hope, Tom. There is no hope. 
 Absolutely none." She spoke with a despairing con- 
 viction that greatly impressed and disturbed her lover. 
 Dessie saw this, and added with a smile as they shook 
 hands : " You know I'm not easily frightened, Tom. 
 But this is beyond both you and me. If I could only 
 tell you all, you would see it as I see it, and feel that 
 whatever you do you can only add to the misery and 
 wretchedness. But we must get over that and be 
 friends." 
 
 As soon as he had gone the girl went to her room. 
 She thought it probable that the little misunderstanding 
 with Mrs. Markham might have some effect upon their 
 present relations; and it was more than likely that it 
 would be judicious for Dessie to plead pressure of work 
 and go back to her own rooms.
 
 The Count's Next Move 187 
 
 Mrs. Markham was undoubtedly irritated, and the 
 Count de Montalt had been quick to observe it and to 
 turn it to his own advantage. As soon as Dessie and 
 Tom Cheriton had left the room he said : 
 
 " This is a very unpleasant incident, Dora. I object 
 strongly to such treatment as this gentleman thinks good 
 enough for me. Had it not been here in your house 
 I should have resented it, and either have turned him 
 out or left myself. It was not for this that I came to 
 England," he continued with an air of offended dignity, 
 " and I must consider what course to take." 
 
 " Mr. Cheriton is no favourite of mine," said Mrs. 
 Markham quickly. She was afraid of the effect of 
 de Montalt's anger. " If you wish it, I will never speak 
 to him again." 
 
 " You must follow your own wishes, of course. Natur- 
 ally, I will never exchange another word with him as long 
 as I live. But there is more than that the whole in- 
 cident has distressed me. Who is this Miss Merrion that 
 all her fancies and tempers and moods are to be made the 
 cause of insults to me from her friends ? I am not used 
 to it. I Hope I have some stronger purpose in life than 
 to study the whims of an erratic young woman of this 
 kind." 
 
 " She has been my friend " began Dora, quietly. 
 
 " Yes, your friend ; and therefore her friends must 
 needs think it necessary to come and browbeat and 
 insult me, and set us two by the ears, and make this mis- 
 chief. I will not have it." And he got up and walked 
 up and down the room, Mrs. Markham watching him 
 nervously and in silence. 
 
 Sfie did not want to have any disagreement with Des- 
 sie, but she was more afraid of offending the man she 
 loved ; so between the two she was very anxious.
 
 1 88 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " I'm not wishing to come between you and youi 
 friends, Dora," said the man. " That shall never be 
 said of me. I have only one aim in life now to promote 
 your happiness. I want to increase the number of your 
 friends, not take them away ; real friends, I mean ; 
 
 but " he appeared to hesitate, and then added, as if 
 
 struck with a sudden thought, " I tell you what I think 
 will be best. Let us put off our marriage. Nay, per- 
 haps better, end the engagement altogether; I " 
 
 " Godefroi ! " cried Mrs. Markham, in alarmed protest, 
 getting up to go to him. 
 
 " Yes ; I mean it. It will be best. You can then satisfy 
 these meddling friends of yours. What does it matter to 
 us? We love each other. We can wait six months, a 
 year, two years, any time while they are satisfying 
 themselves that I am not an ogre or at least not such 
 an outrageous scoundrel as your barrister-friend insinu- 
 ated just now. By heavens, I will not have that thought 
 of me." 
 
 " He is no friend of mine," cried the widow, her fears 
 growing. " He is nothing to me less than nothing. 
 What do I care for his opinion ? I will never see him or 
 speak to him again." 
 
 " That may be, but there are others. I understand 
 this. I see what it means." He spoke, angrily, and 
 gesticulated impatiently. " I have eyes and wits of my 
 own. I can see the insinuations that these people cast 
 this Miss Merrion among the rest. They think but 
 there, I know, and you know what friends of the kind 
 do think. Morbleu! Do you think I can bear that. 
 I, who love you with all my heart ; and who would fifty 
 thousand times rather that you were a beggar, like them- 
 selves, that I might shew my love. No, Dora ; I love you 
 with all my heart and my soul. Had we met years ago
 
 The Count's Next Move 189 
 
 our lives would have been one long path of happiness. 
 But we have met too late." As he said this he stopped 
 intentionally quite close to her and gazed down into her 
 eyes, as if with the pain of infinite regret. 
 
 Then she threw herself into his arms and clung to him 
 and embraced and caressed him, herself weeping, and 
 with all the protestations of a deep passion besought 
 him to recall his words and to love her; vowing that no 
 one in the world should ever come between them, and that 
 if he did not marry her she would kill herself. 
 
 Everything thus went as he intended, and he exacted 
 two conditions as the terms of peace : That the marriage 
 should take place that day week; and that Dessie should 
 be asked to go home. 
 
 Peace had been established some time when the girl 
 entered the room again. The scene with her lover had 
 made Mrs. Markham irritable towards others, and as she 
 had taken her cue from the Count and remembered Des- 
 sie's previously stated dislike to him, her manner was not 
 pleasant. 
 
 " You've been a long time with Mr. Cheriton, Dessie, 
 considering that, as you say, all is at an end between 
 you." 
 
 a Tom went within five minutes of leaving this room," 
 answered the girl, after a glance of momentary astonish- 
 ment at her friend's tone. " I have been upstairs." 
 
 " I hope you have made up your mind to end this 
 mysterious secrecy. It is very unpleasant for everyone.'* 
 
 " I should be only too glad to end it, Dora, if I could. 
 I should not break my heart and spoil my life for the 
 mere fun of the thing," she answered, beginning to re- 
 sent the widow's manner. 
 
 At that moment the Count rose. He scented the com- 
 ing storm, and had no wish to interfere with it.
 
 1 90 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " Don't go, Godefroi," said Dora, laying a hand on 
 his arm to detain him, and looking unusually determined. 
 He sat down again to listen. " I want to say something 
 to Dessie while you are here. For some reason or other 
 she has set herself against you, and we have had more 
 than one talk about it. I want her now to know, while we 
 are all together, that I take her prejudice against you 
 as hostile to myself, and as something particularly dis- 
 tasteful. Do you understand me, Dessie?" she askedj 
 turning to her. 
 
 " I can scarcely fail to understand what that means, 
 Dora." 
 
 " Well, when I tell you that we have determined to be 
 married this day week " 
 
 " So soon ! " exclaimed the girl, starting, and looking 
 uneasy. 
 
 " Yes, so soon. Have you any objection ? " asked Mrs. 
 Markham, with a look of sarcasm. " You are very pe- 
 culiar, Dessie, very peculiar indeed about my marriage. 
 One would suppose I don't know what to hear and see 
 you. It is very unfortunate that we have this difference. 
 You and I have always been such good friends that I 
 thought it would be the greatest pleasure in the world 
 for us to be together at such a time ; but you act in such 
 a singular way that " 
 
 Dessie looked hard at the Count de Montalt, on whose 
 face, half averted, she seemed to see a smile of mocking 
 triumph under the forced expression of indifference, and 
 then a sharp glance at her friend showed her that the 
 latter was flushed with irritation, but so far nervous as 
 to suggest that she was really putting some compulsion 
 on herself to take a step she did not like. 
 
 " I understand you now, Dora, at any rate," said the 
 girl. " You are being hurried, whether you know it or
 
 The Count's Next Move 191 
 
 not, into this marriage, and part of the arrangement is 
 that you and I should be separated. I will go, my dear, 
 without any further words." 
 
 She rose and walked to the door, and then turned and 
 said, " Before I go I shall see you, but let it be alone." 
 And then she went out, leaving both her hearers with 
 the impression that she had had the best of the encounter. 
 
 It was hard that at such a moment this additional blow 
 should have been struck, and Dessie felt this; but she 
 would not give the feeling rein, and her chief thought as 
 she went away to get ready to leave was one of dismay 
 that the marriage was to take place so soon, and that she 
 could not stop it.
 
 CLOSING IN 
 
 IT was with a very brave but sad heart that Dessie Mer- 
 rion faced the new development in her affairs. Very little 
 was said either by her or Mrs. Markham before she left 
 Edgcumbe Square, although both felt the estrangement 
 keenly. Mrs. Markham, on her side, would not press 
 Dessie to stay, for fear of giving offence to the Count 
 de Montalt; while the girl, on her side, was too hurt to 
 say a word. 
 
 She passed the evening giving those little touches of 
 arrangement to her rooms which her taste suggested 
 the little simple changes which gave the place such an 
 air of homeliness and comfort. 
 
 Afterwards, she went through the papers in the safe, 
 to ascertain which had been stolen by the Count ; and she 
 soon ascertained that he had gained all his knowledge 
 from the little diary in which she had been in the habit 
 of jotting down notes of important events, sometimes in 
 shorthand, and sometimes in a kind of cypher; just a 
 date, or a line of reference, and only very rarely with any 
 fulness. It was this book which had betrayed her; and 
 the loss of it set her dreaming and thinking of the curious 
 facts in her life which it chronicled so briefly. 
 
 Gradually her thoughts settled, and the great care 
 which had come swooping down on her life, like a huge 
 dark cloud, absorbed them. 
 
 It was inevitable that she should have grave doubts 
 
 102
 
 Closing In 193 
 
 about tfie prudence of the course she had taken, as well 
 as of the right of it. At the bottom of all her thoughts 
 was the passionate protest against losing the man she 
 loved, and it filled her with dismay to think of what life 
 would be without him. 
 
 " How shall I be able to go on living day after day, 
 week after week, without the thought that the day is 
 some time to dawn which will see us man and wife? 
 It was the salt of my life: The one thing that kept all 
 else fresh and sweet and pleasant, and made life worth 
 living. But now " she sighed, deeply and heavily. 
 
 " I wonder if I ought to have told him. If I ought 
 to have dared that devil to do his worst. But there 
 how could I marry him? How could I bear to pass my 
 life waiting for the blow to fall that would let the world 
 know that his wife was the sister of a murderess ? How 
 hard this world is! The sins of the fathers are visited 
 upon the children, indeed! And yet, what have I ever 
 done to deserve this? Been born the daughter of of 
 such a father. Happy the woman who has no need to 
 think with shame of a father's life ! " 
 
 Then came another pause in the thread. 
 
 " I wish I was twenty years older. If I was only forty- 
 five I wonder what I shall be at forty, or if I shall live 
 so long, and what my life will be like. I suppose there 
 will come a time when I shall be able to think about my 
 work again. To take the drab-coloured warp of reality 
 and weave in the fancy-coloured threads of my little 
 puppets' lives. Well, I shall now be able to write realisti- 
 cally enough about sorrow and trouble, and heart-sicken- 
 ing disappointment! And I shall have to go on doing 
 that till I die. A lonely figure, probably shabby, seared 
 with the lines of trouble on my face, but always alone, 
 because carrying a burden of secrecy that not a soul may
 
 1 94 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 share. I suppose if I go out to-morrow and use my eyes 
 in the streets I shall see fifty little old women, any one 
 of whom will stand to me for a type of what I shall be 
 in the future. I, who have done nothing ; while that man 
 whose life has been saturated with evil deeds But 
 I'm a fool to talk like this ; I must do something," and 
 jumping up she found some work, and forced herself to 
 doit. 
 
 But the evening was a most lonesome and wretched 
 one, and despite her most resolute efforts her thoughts 
 would go back to her lover. Everything in the place 
 seemed to remind her of him. 
 
 In the morning she was less low-spirited. The second 
 post brought her a letter from Tom Cheriton, which gave 
 her heart, though it nearly brought tears to her eyes. 
 
 " D. D. Same as ever you see, and refuse ever to be 
 different. The uncle very bad, and very glad to see me 
 to-night. I told him all about you ; and you'll have to 
 come down here. I painted you in such colours that I 
 think he's in love with you himself. You'll have a 
 surprise to-morrow, I expect. I'm not going to be idle, 
 I can tell you. So look out. T." 
 
 " P.S. Keep a bag packed to come down here in case 
 of emergency. But you'll hear all about it." 
 
 Dessie read the letter over and over again, and tried 
 to pretend that it did not make her hopeful. But it did 
 for a long time; until she ran over in thought again all 
 the terrible consequences to her sister and herself which 
 must follow if she dared to set the Count de Montalt at 
 defiance. 
 
 There was no escape. All the hopefulness and resolu- 
 tion in the world could not battle against the one grim 
 fact that the man could send her sister to the dock and
 
 Closing In 195 
 
 probably to the gallows, if they dared to interfere with 
 him. 
 
 Thus the hope which her lover's little letter kindled 
 was extinguished, but the perplexity at some of the refer- 
 ences remained. " You'll have a surprise to-morrow ! " 
 What surprise ? What could he be going to do ? Some- 
 thing kindly meant, of course, but what could it be? 
 And the more frequently she read the letter the less 
 could she understand it. 
 
 She tried to start writing a little story, but her thoughts 
 would only run in one groove, and she sat biting the 
 end of the pen and guessing what Tom meant by the 
 " surprise." 
 
 She idled unwillingly but irresistibly in this way for an 
 hour or two, until work being out of the question she 
 resolved to go for a walk. As she went out she gave 
 instructions, clear and explicit enough now that under 
 no circumstances was anyone ever to be admitted to her 
 rooms in her absence. 
 
 " Not that it would have mattered much," she 
 thought. " If that man meant to get into the rooms and 
 rummage them he would have done it whatever pre- 
 cautions Mrs. Tonkin might have taken. He would 
 have broken in if necessary." Her walk cheered and 
 braced her a bit, and after a light dinner, which she 
 took at a small club of which she was a member, she 
 returned home determined to go to work. 
 
 The Count de Montalt had called during her absence 
 she was told, and had left a message that he wished to 
 see her on urgent business that afternoon early. 
 
 She had indeed partly anticipated that he would pay 
 her a visit. She had done nothing toward carrying out 
 tHe second part of the bargain with the Count the res- 
 toration of the jewels. Probably he had called for them.
 
 1 96 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 He arrived almost before she had had time to take 
 off her hat, and his manner now was considerably 
 changed towards her. It was no longer effusively polite, 
 but inclined rather to bully and threaten. 
 
 " I was surprised not to see you this morning," he 
 said, somewhat brusquely. " You must have expected 
 me, and you know, of course, the object of my visit." 
 
 "'What is it?" 
 
 " I have come for the jewels of mine which you have 
 in your possession." 
 
 " They are not here/' said Dessie, quite as abruptly. 
 " I forgot to get them, and they are not here." 
 
 "You can get them. The Deposit Company's 
 Safe Depot is close here. I am not to be trifled with. I 
 thought you knew that." 
 
 " I am not trifling with you ; but I will not do anything 
 in a hurry," she answered. " You know, too well, that to 
 use your means of forcing me must result only in spoiling 
 your own plans. I am not Dora," said Dessie, looking at 
 him resolutely. 
 
 " No, not Dora ; Dorothy," he answered significantly 
 " Dorothy Marlow." 
 
 " I understand your implied threat, but it is mere 
 empty air in this case," retorted Dessie. " I shall do 
 what I said but I shall do it in my own way. You 
 seem to think that all are like yourself never to be 
 trusted to do a thing unless the whip is always lifted." 
 
 " The whip I lift has blood knots in the lash," he 
 answered, angrily, " and I do not suppose you are likely 
 to act out of sheer affection." 
 
 He ended with a sneering laugh. 
 
 Dessie made no reply to this; and after a pause he 
 continued, in quite a changed tone one of half banter, 
 half seriousness.
 
 Closing In 197 
 
 " I suppose if I were to tell you that I am really sorry 
 to have had to put this trouble on you you would not 
 believe me. Yet it's true, and " 
 
 " I have no intention of permitting you to address a 
 single word more than this business renders absolutely 
 necessary," interposed Dessie, with angry curtness. 
 
 " Yet it is true absolutely true," he continued, not 
 noticing her interruption, " and nothing would please 
 me better than to hit on some way of avoiding the trouble 
 altogether." 
 
 " You can do that easily by giving up this mean and 
 infamous plan of marrying my friend for her money," 
 rapped out the girl. 
 
 " Should I break her heart and my own merely be- 
 cause she chances to be rich ? " he asked, in reply, show- 
 ing his white teeth in a smile, and throwing up his hands 
 in mock dismay. " I mean some practical way, of course 
 something in reason." 
 
 " This interview is exceedingly distasteful to me," said 
 Dessie. " If you have any further object to gain, be good 
 enough to state it at once." 
 
 " There is the pleasure of being in your society, Miss 
 Merrion," was the answer, with a slight pause before 
 the name. 
 
 " If that is all, my pleasure will be secured by your 
 leaving me. A wild beast may play too long with its 
 victim, remember, and the latter may escape. It is not 
 by any means too late for me to recall the word I gave " 
 
 " You pride yourself on keeping your word," he put in, 
 quickly, with a sneer. 
 
 " You are reducing me to a condition in which I have 
 no pride left for anything," was her retort. " But do not 
 mistake me. I am taking my course as the result of 
 calculation, and it is no part of that calculation to be
 
 198 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 pestered with your presence. You will perhaps be 
 tempted to keep away from me for the future, when I 
 tell you that every time I see you I am shaken with 
 doubt whether I dare comply with your terms, and sacri- 
 fice my friend even to save my sister. Your presence 
 revives every instinct of dread of you, till I am wild with a 
 desire to rush and tell Dora the truth. Don't come here 
 again, or the temptation to dare all for the truth's sake 
 will be more than I can resist," she cried, angrily, as she 
 rose from her chair. 
 
 The Count rose also. 
 
 " You hold your life cheap," he said, with a glance of 
 anger. " If you want to be rid of it, do what you say. 
 And now, what about the jewels? When will you give 
 them up, and how ? " 
 
 " I will have them here on Monday, in the afternoon, 
 if I have not changed my mind in the meantime and 
 taken courage to tell the truth." 
 
 He went without a reply, and Dessie, shaken in her 
 resolve by her own words, sat down again in great agita- 
 tion. 
 
 The thought of Dora in the power of this remorseless 
 and utterly reckless scoundrel was indescribably distress- 
 ing, and the sense of absolute powerlessness which her 
 present isolation intensified, made her misery almost un- 
 endurable. 
 
 The . Count de Montalt's visit and the whirlpool of 
 thoughts which followed it rendered work impossible for 
 the rest of that day, and in the night she was troubled and 
 restless. It increased her perplexity, too, that nothing 
 followed the hint which Tom Cheriton had dropped in 
 his letter. Moreover, on the following morning, there 
 was no letter from him ; and Dessie felt really ill owing 
 to the suspense, and lack of sleep and despondency.
 
 Closing In 199 
 
 Early in the forenoon she had a visitor Sir E. Lan- 
 dale, and as she connected him now with de Montalt, the 
 visit angered her. 
 
 " You are looking very ill," he said, as soon as he saw 
 her. 
 
 " Your visit will not make me well," she retorted^ 
 sharply. " Had I known you were coming here, I would 
 not have had you admitted. If you wish to save yourself 
 the indignity of being shown out by the housekeeper, 
 you will not stay here." 
 
 " I mean well by you ; I declare I do. I will do any- 
 thing to help you in this trouble. I know the cause of 
 it " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried the girl, who was so anx- 
 ious that she was interested in spite of herself. " What 
 more do you know than I told you when you well, you 
 know what I mean ? " she finished, with a curl of the lip 
 that showed her contempt. 
 
 " Whatever I know I can keep to myself," answered 
 the baronet, cautiously, noticing her fresh anxiety. " I 
 have come to tell you again that I love you. You are 
 alone, absolutely alone in all this. For the second time 
 in your life you have had to make a big break up of 
 your life " 
 
 " Ah, you have seen de Montalt again," said Dessie, 
 seeing the evidence of this in his words. He winced a 
 little. 
 
 " If I have, what then ? I have no thought but your 
 good if you will do what I want. Marry me, Dessie, and 
 make an end of the whole trouble. You can never marry 
 Cheriton. You know that you can't go on living here 
 doing more than a man's work for a girl's pay that 
 barely keeps you alive. You may think you can do it 
 for a time ; but how are you going to keep it up ? You're
 
 2oo The Heritage of Peril 
 
 looking now as ill as a dog. Give it up. You've made 
 a plucky fight of it, and it isn't your fault you're beaten. 
 But you are beaten. You can't help it. Give yourself to 
 me. I know I acted like a brute years ago ; but on my 
 soul I want nothing better than a chance of showing you 
 I'm sorry." 
 
 He paused a moment in the hope that her silence, 
 which was unbroken by any sign of protest on her part, 
 might promise him well. 
 
 Dessie had waited while he spoke, not looking at him, 
 but with her head bent down. She raised it now to look 
 at him. 
 
 " Go on," she said calmly. " You've not finished. Let 
 me hear all you have to say." 
 
 " It's all summed up in one sentence," he said. " I 
 want you to marry me. If you will but say yes, you 
 can step in a moment from the lonely life of this place, 
 with all its hard, grinding, hopeless work, into a life that 
 I swear shall have enough of brightness and prosperity 
 and wealth in it to distract even your thoughts from 
 the fact that I was once so miserably unworthy of you. 
 Will you marry me ? " 
 
 " Have you anything else to say ? " she asked, in a hard, 
 curt tone. 
 
 " Only the one plea I love you now as I thought I 
 never could love." 
 
 " Then here is my answer. I would not marry you, 
 if the choice lay between your wealth and the workhouse. 
 I have no more to say ; " and she opened the door and 
 held it for the Baronet to go out. 
 
 " I will try to make you, yet and I have the power 
 now." 
 
 "Yes, that is your love; I knew it," she said, with a
 
 Closing In 201 
 
 mocking laugh; and she met his eyes steadily as he 
 went out of the room like a whipped dog. 
 
 But no sooner had the door closed on him than the 
 fear rose to her thoughts that, if de Montalt and this 
 man were really in league, a marriage with him might 
 be made part of the terms. And the thought sickened and 
 frightened her, adding even to her previous misery. 
 
 " I cannot do it. I would rather die, ten thousand 
 times rather," she said to herself; and in this mood she 
 sat, strengthening herself in this resolve, and infinitely 
 sad, as she seemed to find every avenue of hope closing 
 against her, while one after another the courses she 
 would have chosen were becoming impossible. 
 
 She could not confide in her lover; she was driven to 
 sacrifice her friend; a marriage with a man she despised 
 seemed likely to be forced upon her; and on every hand 
 she saw the objects she desired kept from her, and those 
 she loathed forced upon her. 
 
 Yet, which ever way she turned the knowledge that 
 a word from de Montalt could send her sister to the 
 dock was more than enough to completely unnerve and 
 frighten her. 
 
 She was in this mood of deepest dejection when she 
 was disturbed by someone knocking at the door. 
 
 She went and opened it, and then stood for a moment 
 staring in blank surprise at her visitor. 
 
 She knew her in a moment, though they had met only 
 once before, and then for only a few minutes. 
 
 It was the woman who had been with Rolande Les- 
 pard when the latter was arrested. Dessie was so sur- 
 prised that her lips could not frame the question that 
 rose to them, as to the possible reason for the visit. But 
 her visitor seemed to guess the question, and taking the
 
 2O2 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 girl's hands in hers, she pressed them, and then kissed 
 her pale face and whispered : 
 
 " You are surprised, of course. But I come from Mr. 
 Cheriton your Tom."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 DESSIE'S VISITOR 
 
 BESSIE'S surprise when she recognised her visitor was 
 so intense that she could not overcome it. When they 
 had both sat down she kept looking at the newcomer, 
 while a rush of confused thoughts perplexed and be- 
 wildered her. 
 
 What did the visit mean ? Was the woman really from 
 Tom? Was there some fresh treachery underneath it? 
 Was it some new trick of the Count's to catch her in a 
 further complication. One after another questions of 
 this kind crossed her thoughts, as she recalled how 
 egregiously deceived she had been lately in all directions. 
 
 She had quickly come to associate the unexpected with 
 danger ; and at first her suspicions predominated over all 
 feelings except surprise, and she sat scanning the elder 
 woman sharply and cautiously. 
 
 Her scrutiny reassured her somewhat; but her recent 
 experiences made her unwilling to place too much con- 
 fidence in any stranger. 
 
 " It is five years since we met? " she said suspiciously, 
 breaking the long silence, and implying a question in the 
 tone of her voice,. 
 
 " I have not forgotten the day ; I never shall forget it. 
 If you have got over your surprise and your suspicions 
 of me I do not blame you for them, but you need not 
 harbour them I will tell you everything that brings me 
 here to-day." 
 
 203
 
 204 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie said nothing; but hungry impatience lighted 
 her eyes, as she fixed them on her companion's face. 
 
 " I have had a journey," said the latter, pleasantly, 
 and speaking in a composed, reassuring, friendly manner. 
 " May I take off my wraps ? " She threw aside her cape, 
 and Dessie's quick eyes noted in an instant that every- 
 thing she wore was very good and very fashionable. 
 
 When she sat down again it was close to Dessie; so 
 close that she could take the girl's hand. 
 
 " Will you kiss me, Dessie ? " she asked, looking right 
 into her eyes. " And try and trust me as much as Tom 
 himself does ? " Dessie kissed her readily, partly moved 
 by the mention of that name, and partly yielding to the 
 interested regard she had felt when they had last met. 
 
 " Now, let me tell you everything. Tom has sent me 
 up to win your confidence, and I'm going to begin by 
 giving you mine telling you what has never passed my 
 lips before. You'll know what I mean." She paused an 
 instant, and then resumed. " Tom's uncle is, as you 
 know, Robert Davenant; and I am the wife of John 
 Davenant, his brother. I am Constance Davenant." 
 
 " You, Mrs. Davenant, his uncle John's wife ? Why 
 he told me " Dessie stopped as if in confusion. But 
 her companion smiled. 
 
 " You may finish. I am the wife John Davenant first 
 ill-treated and then left; and it was before he left me, 
 years ago, that you and I met that day at Birmingham." 
 
 The composure with which she referred to this sur- 
 prised Dessie, who let the feeling show in her looks. 
 
 " I expect Tom Cheriton has told you very much, but 
 nothing that he can have told you can equal the truth. It 
 is twelve years since I married John Davenant, and after 
 the first twelve months he never had a word for me that
 
 Dessie's Visitor 205 
 
 was not Half a curse, nor an action that he would not have 
 liked to be a blow. I bore it for my child's sake until 
 the mad time that climaxed that day at Birmingham 
 Station." In the pause, Dessie took the elder woman's 
 hand in hers and held it. Then she whispered : 
 
 " You need not tell me any more if it pains you. 
 You come from Tom. That is enough for me enough 
 to make me trust you." 
 
 " I am going to tell you, all the same. We had been 
 abroad, my husband and I, making one of those dismal 
 pilgrimages that people call pleasure tours; and on our 
 return through London two things happened. My hus- 
 band forced on my acquaintance a woman I knew to be 
 his mistress, and we met the man whom you saw me 
 with at Birmingham, Rolande Lespard. But he called 
 himself to us Jules Caspien. You know the man his 
 shrewdness, daring, cleverness and you can understand 
 how in five minutes he would detect the skeleton in our 
 lives, how he would ingratiate himself with my husband, 
 and but it is enough. He did all this and was asked to 
 stay at our house in the Midlands." 
 
 She paused again. 
 
 " But what you cannot understand is how the man 
 appeared to me in contrast from my brutal husband, who 
 chose that time of all others to heap every indignity 
 upon me in order, as I believe, to drive me from the 
 house. He threw this man in my way, and I well, I 
 forgot all in the lying hope of happiness which the man 
 held out to me. I was flying with him that day we 
 had left home only some three hours before you and I 
 met and the full scheme would have been carried out 
 but for the arrest of the man and the warning which, by 
 the mercy of God, you gave me. Now you can see what
 
 206 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 you saved me from, Dessie, and why I did not dare to 
 make myself known to you, and why I have always 
 thought of you as a dear sister." 
 
 She stopped to kiss the girl. 
 
 " I went back, and then I saw that the whole scheme 
 had been planned by my husband and that villain, and 
 my eyes were open indeed to the infamy of both. My 
 return completely disconcerted him ; but I had not been 
 away long enough for him to bring any charge against 
 me, while the arrest of the man Le Caspien, or Lespard, 
 made it impossible for the conspiracy to be carried fur- 
 ther. I had been pulled up on the very brink of destruc- 
 tion, and was saved to protect my child and to wonder 
 how I could ever have been so mad and blind as to have 
 been forced by my husband's brutality and cunning into 
 forgetting her even for an instant. Two years later 
 my husband left me and went abroad, having ruined 
 himself in health and pocket by his excesses. He has 
 never returned; but his brother, who has always taken 
 my side, insists that a share of his wealth is mine and 
 my child's by right." 
 
 " How you must have suffered," said Dessie, gently, 
 as she pressed the hand she held. 
 
 " It is over, thank God," was the reply. " But now you 
 know the secret of that meeting, which no one else on 
 earth knows but you. Do you know I often have the 
 picture of you in my thoughts, as you were that day. 
 You were not so pale as you are to-day not half so care- 
 worn and hopeless looking, and the moment my eyes met 
 yours I seemed to realise partly what a fearful blunder 
 I was making. You looked so strong, self-reliant, quick 
 and resolute, and yet so incapable of wrong-doing or 
 thinking, that the mere silent contact with you stirred the 
 good in me and scared the evil. But at first I felt it was
 
 Dessie's Visitor 207 
 
 too late, and then when you came back with your quick, 
 impulsive warning, urging me to fly at once, I seemed to 
 see right and honour opening before me again at your 
 bidding, and I fled almost without a word to you and 
 yet you were more like an angel to me in that moment 
 than all the religion of all my life had ever let me con- 
 ceive. It was you who saved me, Dessie, and I have come 
 now to save you in return. For you are shivering on the 
 brink of an error which may have as terrible consequences 
 for you as mine might have had for me, and, of all 
 strange coincidences in the world, through the same evil 
 man, for I have learnt enough from Tom to know that 
 it is the same man." 
 
 Dessie trembled a little, and then said, slowly and 
 sadly. 
 
 " Yes, it is the same man." 
 
 " The coincidence, of course, is all due to those jewels 
 which the man says he put in my bag. I suppose they 
 have given him his hold over you. Were they there ? " 
 
 " Yes. I found them, of course," said Dessie. " And 
 I " 
 
 " Stay a moment before you tell me anything. Let 
 me finish what I know about them. It is very little. I 
 found out afterwards, of course, who the man Le Caspien 
 was, and followed his trial as Rolande Lespard for the 
 murder of an old man. Did you see that ? " Dessie 
 nodded. 
 
 " Well, some three years afterwards, just when I 
 wrote to you, he came to me. What he thought to do 
 I cannot tell, but his power over me was broken. I 
 threatened to have him turned out of the house if he 
 ever came near me again, and I would have done it. But 
 it was the jewels he wanted, not me; although when he 
 told me the tale about them I did not believe him. I did
 
 208 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 not remember he had ever given me the cigar case to 
 take care of ; but I have no doubt that he did so in order 
 that if anything happened to him they should be found 
 on me instead of on him. I suppose he went in actual 
 fear of the arrest, but I have even now no idea how he 
 came by the jewels. I suppose he had stolen them. He 
 is certainly villain enough." 
 
 " He is villain enough for anything," said Dessie. 
 
 " I wrote to you to put you on your guard should 
 you ever meet him, and in case the story he told should be 
 true. But I little thought there would ever be need. 
 Now I think you know everything, except that when I 
 heard from Tom one day that he wanted to marry a 
 girl named Dessie Merrion, I puzzled my brains to think 
 whether it could be you. I could not let drop a word 
 about my knowing you; neither could I do what Tom 
 was always asking me to do come up and see you. I 
 think " and she stopped, and taking both Bessie's hands 
 in hers, held them, and smiled to her, " I think I was a 
 little afraid of you afraid of what might happen if you 
 recognised me, as of course you would. And do you 
 know that is about the only thing I ever refused Tom 
 Cheriton in all my life. I never can resist that cheery 
 winning, breezy way of his his wheedling way; and T 
 have had to tell terrible stories and invent all sorts of 
 excuses and plans to get out of doing what would have 
 given me the sweetest pleasure in life having you down 
 to stay with me if only I could have made sure what 
 you would be to me." 
 
 There was no doubt now as to what Dessie thought 
 of her; the girl's heart was warming with every refer* 
 ence to Tom. 
 
 " But I could help you in one way all the same, 
 Robert his uncle Robert, you know, who is one of the
 
 Dessie's Visitor 209 
 
 kindest and best-hearted men that ever lived would take 
 the crotchet into his head that you were a fortune-hunter, 
 and wished to marry Tom, not because you loved him, 
 but because you wanted a share in the money which Tom 
 will one day have ; and he accordingly insisted that Tom 
 must show himself able to earn at least 200 a year in 
 his profession. But the whole thing was merely intended 
 to test your love for him; and day after day I used to 
 talk to him, filling him up with implied praises of you. 
 But he always had the best of it." 
 
 " How ? " asked Dessie, with a bright smile her 
 thoughts were all away from her troubles for the moment, 
 and all with her lover. 
 
 " Ah, that's the smile Tom raves about," said Mrs. 
 Davenant, smiling in her turn. " And I'm not surprised 
 either, my dear. Let Robert feel the warmth of one of 
 those looks, and his opposition will melt as surely as the 
 sun melts snow. But he could always beat me, as I said, 
 because he would turn on me and say, ' If you think so 
 much of the girl, why don't you have her to stay with 
 you ? ' and I had no answer. I came to town once, re- 
 solved to see you, but my courage failed me, and I went 
 back, having only met you in the street, after waiting 
 about outside here for some hours. I thought that a 
 girl who could fight the plucky fight you had fought, and 
 be so strong as to win your way to independence alone 
 and friendless in this big, cold, hard Babylon might be 
 so confident of her own strength as to despise the weak- 
 ness which I showed in the moment which threw us 
 together." 
 
 " And now ? " asked Dessie, with another smile, a 
 mingling of happiness and love. 
 
 " Now I think I am the harder of the two. Then came 
 the news of all this trouble that you had fallen myste-
 
 2 1 o The Heritage of Peril 
 
 riously into the power of a Count de Montalt, an unknown 
 Frenchman, whose description by Tom made me recog- 
 nise him at once. I felt that my hour for strength had 
 indeed come. I was to have a glorious revenge on you, 
 Dessie " kissing her. " You had saved me and might 
 think harshly of my weakness, but I could at any rate 
 save you, and we could both be strong together. If two 
 such women as you and I are not a match for even that 
 villain Lespard well, we'll call in a certain English 
 barrister that I know to help us." 
 
 She finished with a laugh that was sweet music in 
 Bessie's ears ; but the girl's fears and grief were too fresh 
 and too heavy not to reassert themselves soon. 
 
 " I am very glad you have come ; I felt like starving 
 for a little friendship; but even you cannot guess how 
 infinite the trouble is." 
 
 " Guess it ? No, not all of it. I can certainly guess 
 some of it though, and you must tell me the rest." 
 
 Dessie shook her head slowly and smiled. 
 
 " I cannot. ' could not tell Tom." This was an un~ 
 answerable reason for telling no one else. Mrs. Davenant 
 understood this, but she had come prepared to combat the 
 determination. She made no reply for a few moments, 
 and then in a very earnest and affectionate tone she said : 
 
 " My dear, you must not let any previous resolution 
 prevent your speaking plainly to me. I have spoken to 
 Tom on " 
 
 " Have you told him about the about our Birming- 
 ham meeting? " asked the girl, interrupting eagerly. 
 
 " No, not yet. I wished first to make quite sure that 
 this impostor Count was in fact that same scoundrel. 
 But I shall tell him now, of course, and, if necessary, 
 shall tell him also the part that the villain played in my
 
 Bessie's Visitor 211 
 
 life." She paused for Dessie to speak. But the latter 
 made no response. 
 
 " Won't you tell me everything, and trust me ? " asked 
 Mrs. Davenant. 
 
 " It would do no good and I cannot. The jewels are 
 only the least part of the whole trouble." 
 
 " Then I shall go to this de Montalt himself ; and more 
 than that, I shall see Mrs. Markham and let her know 
 what I know of him." 
 
 " If you do you will ruin me," cried Dessie, passion- 
 ately. " He will think I have instigated you, and he 
 will " 
 
 " Will what ? " asked Mrs. Davenant, when Dessie 
 paused. 
 
 " It will ruin me. Don't go to him ; don't please, Mrs. 
 Davenant," she cried again, in a tone of great distress, tak- 
 ing her companion's hand and kissing it. " If I could 
 tell you and would to God I could you and Tom would 
 both see that only trouble and misery and ruin can come 
 of this interference. Don't see him, and don't speak a 
 word to Dora Mrs. Markham. Go back and leave me 
 to bear this load alone. I can bear it; indeed, I must. 
 But I cannot bear what will follow from your interfer- 
 ence. I know you mean to do what is kind and loving, 
 and I know that Tom hasn't a thought that isn't loving 
 and sincere. But this is stronger than us all. It is, in- 
 deed. It is hopeless ; and only misery can come of any 
 efforts to help me. Please, please believe I know what I 
 am saying. Nothing can help me but silence. Nothing 
 on earth." She was almost hysterical in her agitation. 
 
 " You must let me be the judge of that, Dessie. I can 
 only promise to do nothing if you tell me everything, 
 and I see for myself that you are right."
 
 2 1 2 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " I cannot tell you ; I cannot ; I must not. If I were 
 to say even a word to you, I should only be bringing down 
 the ruin that I dread more than death. Mrs. Davenant, I 
 give you my word that there is a bar between Tom and me 
 which must always keep us apart always. If I told it to 
 you and to him, you would both see it as plainly as I do 
 and I am pledged not to speak pledged under the 
 penalty that is absolute and utter ruin." 
 
 Bessie's profound distress pained and embarrassed her 
 companion. 
 
 " What is this barrier? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you. Please ask me no more." 
 
 " Dessie, my dear, I cannot leave it like this. Tom 
 loves you like the true honourable fellow he is, and his 
 happiness is bound up in this hope of making you his 
 wife." 
 
 " I can never marry him. I am not fit." 
 
 " He told me you had said this, and that it is the only 
 thing you ever told him that he does not believe; and I 
 agree with him. I cannot, therefore, let things rest where 
 they are. I believe, and so does he, that you are acting in 
 this way for some cause which has quite upset your bal- 
 ance of judgment and I must interfere to save you from 
 yourself." 
 
 Dessie sighed, and withdrawing her hands from her 
 companion's clasp, let them fall on her lap, with a move- 
 ment of despair. 
 
 " As you will," she said, in a low tone of sorrow ; " as 
 you will. But some day, when you know all and when 
 the ruin has come, you will be sorry indeed that you have 
 been so merciless in your friendship." 
 
 " No ; on the contrary," said Mrs. Davenant, firmly, as 
 she got up. " I shall save you from a ruin which, I am 
 sure, you have done nothing to deserve."
 
 Dessie's Visitor 213 
 
 Dessie made no answer, and watched Mrs. Davenant 
 put on her bonnet. 
 
 " Are you going ? Where ? " she asked, dreading the 
 answer. 
 
 " I am going straight to Mrs. Markham, and to face 
 this villain who calles himself de Montalt to unmask 
 him." And kissing Dessie lovingly, she whispered: 
 " Keep heart and hope, for Tom's sake." 
 
 The next moment the door closed behind her, and 
 Dessie felt chilled with the knowledge that the ruin she 
 dreaded was now brought close at hand.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 DAPHNE AGAIN 
 
 MRS. DAVENANT was much disturbed and profoundly 
 perplexed by the interview with Dessie, and on her way 
 to South Kensington to see Mrs. Markham, she turned 
 over and over in her thoughts all that the girl had said, 
 trying vainly to guess the key to the mystery which had 
 caused the sudden rupture between the two lovers. 
 
 She had long accustomed herself to think of Dessie 
 in a strain of somewhat exaggerated admiration. The 
 service which the girl had rendered her at the critical 
 moment of her life, had developed and grown as the re- 
 sult of constant thankful remembrance until Dessie had 
 become in a manner idealised in her thoughts. All that 
 Tom Cheriton ever said had seemed to confirm and 
 strengthen her feelings until they were almost passionate. 
 
 As a consequence, it was impossible for her to interpret 
 the secret as involving anything disgraceful to Dessie 
 herself. But at the same time the knowledge that there 
 was some secret which as Dessie herself declared might 
 mean ruin, that it was in some way connected with the 
 man de Montalt, and that it was something more serious 
 than the possession of the jewels, formed a problem which 
 baffled her. 
 
 She was convinced, however, that the key was in the 
 holding of the man who called himself the Count de Mon- 
 talt, and she meant to have a hard struggle to get it. 
 
 When she reached Mrs. Markham's house in Edg- 
 
 214
 
 Daphne Again 215 
 
 numbe Square, the widow was not at home, so that she 
 could do no more than leave her name and say that she 
 would call again. When she called the second time, she 
 was shown in at once, but instead of Mrs. Markham, the 
 Count de Montalt came to her. 
 
 " I want to see Mrs. Markham, not you," she said, 
 curtly. 
 
 " Fortune is on my side in this case," he answered 
 calmly. " When I saw your card, I recognised it as a 
 storm signal, thanked you mentally for your warning, 
 and made my preparations to receive you. I come to you 
 now laden with regrets from Mrs. Markham to whom I 
 have given a brief sketch of your career and your prob- 
 able business with her because she finds herself unable 
 to see you. She has fatigued herself very much to-day, 
 and knowing that you and I are old acquaintances, begs 
 that you will allow me to be her messenger in this mat- 
 ter. If you like it more plainly I do not intend you to 
 see Mrs. Markham." The change in his manner which 
 marked his utterance of the last sentence was sharp 
 enough. 
 
 " My object here is to ask Mrs. Markham whether she 
 knows a certain Rolande Lespard." 
 
 " I can answer that for her. She does not. She has 
 not many French friends as yet she may extend the 
 list after marriage with me. Of course your informant, 
 Miss Merrion shall we say Merrion ? has tcld you that 
 Mrs. Markham is going to do me the inestimable honour 
 of becoming my wife." The pause before Bessie's name 
 did not escape Mrs. Davenant. 
 
 " Miss Merrion has told me nothing will tell me 
 nothing; and it is because of that I am here." 
 
 " Miss Merrion is discretion itself," he replied, as if 
 enthusiastically. "A young lady whose confidence it
 
 2 1 6 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 is an honour to share and a crime to disclose. I have 
 a keen interest in Miss Merrion, and I am glad she did 
 not send you here." His ineffable assurance exasperated 
 Mrs. Davenant. 
 
 " I come at the request of Mr. Cheriton, who is a 
 relative of mine my nephew." 
 
 " Your dear husband's nephew ? " he interposed with 
 a sneer. 
 
 " Yes, my husband's nephew. He told me enough 
 about you to enable me to recognise you ; and because of 
 thatl am here." 
 
 " For what purpose ? " 
 
 " To warn Mrs. Markham what manner of man you 
 are." 
 
 " That is profoundly kind of you. But I fear you will 
 not have to take that trouble. I do not propose that my 
 future wife should make the acquaintance of a lady 
 who was once all but my mistress." He paused to 
 give this emphasis. 
 
 ''' You scoundrel," cried Mrs. Davenant, her cheeks 
 flaming. " You dare to say that ! " 
 
 " I am a martyr to the truth, when it suits my pur- 
 pose. But does your nephew know of that interesting 
 little episode in your career? If so, I am surprised he 
 should think any acquaintance between you and my wife 
 possible. I know young men have loose notions nowa- 
 days, but really I thought better of Cheriton. I sup- 
 pose he thinks his own respectability makes the differ- 
 ence." 
 
 The sneering insolence of his taunts was indescribably 
 offensive, but Mrs. Davenant put a strong curb on her 
 anger. She knew that he spoke with an object, that 
 insolence with him was as easy as courtesy, and that his
 
 Daphne Again 217 
 
 mood was intended only as a means to secure some end 
 he had in view. 
 
 " You shall answer for these sneers," she said 
 sharply ; " but they will not help you to deceive me now. 
 I understand you too well to be either irritated or pleased 
 by any mood you choose to assume. You can tell as well 
 as I what my present object is." 
 
 " I hope you don't want to renew the old relations. 
 Even if your husband is dead, I cannot marry you." 
 
 " You are an infamous coward," cried Mrs. Davenant, 
 hotly, whom the fresh insult stung like a whip lash. 
 " But there, I will not let anything you say anger me," 
 she added in a calmer tone. 
 
 " You are still charming in your tempests," he said 
 again, smiling. " Only in the old days your husband was 
 the cause and object of them, not your lovers." 
 
 " You will not irritate me again," replied Mrs. Dave- 
 nant. " I have a purpose to gain, and I am here to gain 
 it. You have come between my nephew, Mr. Cheriton, 
 and Miss Merrion. You have bound her by some means 
 to keep silent, and have so frightened her, that she 
 scarcely knows what she is doing. She is almost be- 
 side herself with terror of you. What is the cause? Will 
 you tell me or shall I force it from you ? " 
 
 " It is very charming of you to attribute to me so 
 much influence over Miss Merrion," he answered, 
 with his mocking smile. " But really I don't possess it. 
 As for keeping those two faithful, loving, devoted hearts 
 apart, I am not so cruel. So far as I am concerned, they 
 may marry to-morrow; and as I understand that the 
 young lady has no parents, I shall be only too happy to 
 give her away to Mr. Cheriton." 
 
 " You have separated her from her friend here.'*
 
 2 1 8 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " On tfie contrary, she separated herself. But I am 
 bound to add I should have done so. I do not consider 
 her a fit companion for my wife." 
 
 " That is rather a compliment. You class her with 
 me." 
 
 " Not exactly with you," he answered, steadily. " You 
 are only a woman who would she is one who did." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Mrs. Davenant, hot 
 with anger again. " Do you dare " 
 
 "Ask Sir Edmund Landale," he interposed, curtly. 
 " You will then know why I class her where I do." 
 
 " Do you insinuate " 
 
 " I insinuate nothing. I only tell you that Sir Edmund 
 Landale is the man whom this Miss Dessie Merrion, as 
 she calls herself, did not marry. Ask him the rest or 
 her? Why do you suppose she makes all this mystery, 
 if there is no disgraceful secret? As for marrying your 
 Mr. Cheriton, if he cares to marry her when he knows 
 what tfiere is to know it is nothing to me." 
 
 It was a dastardly blow, but it struck home, and Mrs. 
 Davenant sat silent and dismayed. She was all un- 
 willingness to believe any harm of Dessie, and her whole 
 instincts revolted against the idea of accepting for a 
 moment any slander he might utter. But the sheer au- 
 dacity of the accusation impressed her in spite of herself, 
 and the reference to the fact of the mystery impressed 
 her in spite of her faith. 
 
 " I do not believe a word you say. Not a word," she 
 said, after the pause. " You have some diabolical mo- 
 tive, and for this reason you make this abominable 
 charge." 
 
 " As you please. It is nothing to me," he returned, 
 lightly, with a shrug of the shoulders and a gesture of 
 indifference. " You can easily prove it."
 
 Daphne Again 219 
 
 "Who is this Sir Edmund Landale?" 
 
 " Ask Miss Merrion. She can tell you if she likes " 
 this with a sneer. " Ask her, or go and see him. Any 
 directory will give you his address. I will go with you if 
 you wish. You quite mistake me. I am interested in 
 this poor girl's " 
 
 " Bah ! I know the interest you would take in such a 
 case. Your own." 
 
 He raised his hands and eyebrows to express his pro- 
 test. 
 
 " Is there anything more you wish to say or do? If 
 not " he left the sentence unfinished, but his meaning 
 was clear enough. 
 
 " Before I leave this house, I mean to see Mrs. Mark- 
 ham." 
 
 " You will do no good to your young friend." 
 
 " Nor to you," she retorted, sharply. " But I mean 
 what I say." 
 
 " Then I'll go and fetch her." He bowed gravely and 
 went to the door and before he opened it turned and 
 said : " If I succeed in inducing Mrs. Markham to see 
 you for once do not blame me if you find yourself 
 treated with very scant courtesy." 
 
 And with that he bowed again to her, a smile twitch- 
 ing the corners of his mouth as he left the room. 
 
 As Mrs. Davenant waited, a crowd of perplexing 
 thoughts pressed upon her and after sitting some time, 
 she began to grow impatient. This feeling developed 
 quickly as the minutes passed. A quarter of an hour 
 went, and when this had lengthened into nearly half an 
 hour, she rang the bell. 
 
 " Does Mrs. Markham know that I am waiting to see 
 her on very important business ? Please to tell her," she 
 said to the servant.
 
 220 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 <? Mrs. Markham, mum? answered the man, in some 
 astonishment. " She's gone out, mum, with the Count 
 nearly half an hour ago." 
 
 " Gone out ? " cried Mrs. Davenant, in astonishment. 
 " Why, I have been waiting here to see her." 
 
 " They must have made some mistake, I think, mum, 
 and thought you had gone. The Count gave me a 
 letter to give to you Mrs. Davenant, I think? if you 
 should call again." 
 
 " Bring it to me, please. There must have been some 
 mistake." 
 
 The man went away and returned with a letter. Mrs. 
 Davenant opened it hurriedly. 
 
 " DEAR CONSTANCE, 
 
 Inadvertently you see I have dropped into the old 
 style. I have tried to persuade my Dora to see you, 
 but she will not. I am sorry to have to leave you in the 
 house, but my dear Dora's health is not strong enough 
 to warrant her facing such a scene as one between an old 
 love of one kind and a new one of another. We had 
 already planned a little trip into the country, and time 
 is too short to allow of my seeing you personally to tell 
 you this. 
 
 G. de M." 
 
 As she read this she nearly bit her lip through with 
 vexation at the manner in which the man had outwitted 
 her; and telling the servant she would call again, she 
 left the House. 
 
 She understood the meaning of the trick well enough. 
 He was determined that she should not see Mrs. Mark- 
 ham before the wedding if possible, and had hurried her 
 away from London. 
 
 She went next to Tom Cheriton's chambers, where any
 
 Daphne Again 221 
 
 message from him was to be sent to her; and she found 
 there a telegram recalling her home in hot haste, as Mr. 
 Davenant had had a serious relapse, and was in danger. 
 She wrote a few hurried lines to Dessie, just a message 
 of hope and comfort, and a word to explain her depar- 
 ture, and drove to the station. 
 
 Meanwhile, Dessie herself had been coming to a new 
 resolution as to her own plans. 
 
 Mrs. Davenant's visit had troubled her greatly. It was 
 clear to the girl that even those who were nearest and 
 dearest to her did not mean to let her go her own way 
 in peace, and that despite all she might do and say, they 
 would interfere and hurry on the ruin and exposure 
 which she was striving might and main to avoid. 
 
 All the best intentions in the world and the most af- 
 fectionate motives and desires could not alter the facts 
 of the case. She and Tom were parted beyond the pos- 
 sibility of reunion, and any interposition by him or by 
 Mrs. Davenant could do no good, and must do harm. 
 She came to the conclusion that she must therefore 
 manage to convince them both of the uselessness of any 
 action in her behalf; and there was only one way in 
 which she could do this. 
 
 Flight. 
 
 She had had to cut herself absolutely adrift from her 
 former life, and she must do it again. The comparative 
 success of her first attempt made her ready to attempt it 
 again, and she soon had a plan formed. 
 
 She would give up the jewels to the man, de Montalt, 
 and then quietly disappear from London, take another 
 name, and begin again in some other big town. She was 
 much better qualified to make a good fight of it now than 
 she had been before, and though she would have to begin 
 all over again in her literary work in a fresh name, she
 
 222 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 had her experience to guide her and confidence in her 
 ability to make the new start successfully. 
 
 She had just formed her resolve when a telegram from 
 the Count came, saying that he should call the next 
 day instead of Monday. This suited her plans, and she 
 went at once to the Safe Company to get the jewels. 
 
 There a surprise awaited her. There was a letter from 
 Daphne, in which the latter said that she was coming to 
 London, and that Dessie must let her know at once where 
 they could meet. After a moment's reflection, she wired 
 in the name Merrion and gave the address of her own 
 rooms. 
 
 This letter gave yet a new direction to her thoughts, 
 and after she had been to the safe and taken out the 
 rubies, she walked slowly home to her rooms, deep in 
 thought as to the possibility of carrying out a plan that 
 occurred to her. 
 
 It might be practicable, she thought, to go out of the 
 country with Daphne ; right away to some distant colony, 
 where the old pains and old pleasures might both be 
 forgotten, and /a quite fresh life commenced, where 
 neither they themselves nor their ugly history would be 
 known. 
 
 The idea pleased her; pain though it was to think of 
 putting the sea between Tom and herself. Yet it would 
 be better for him. He would then be forced to realise 
 the uselessness of any further hope, and cease to be 
 troubled about her. 
 
 When she had passed some time in this kind of dream- 
 ing, Mrs. Davenant's letter came; and it seemed as 
 though all things were combining to make the plan of 
 flight easy. Tom was away; Mrs. Davenant was now 
 called away again; Mrs. Markham had quarrelleti with 
 her; Daphne was coming up to town. One last short
 
 Daphne Again 223 
 
 interview was all that was necessary to finish all relations 
 with the Count. Everything was shaping itself to the 
 one end. 
 
 Presently she commenced to pack her things. To- 
 morrow must see her away somewhere. When Tom or 
 Mrs. Davenant came next to town she must be away, 
 and nothing should remain by which she could be traced. 
 A letter to each of them would be enough. It might 
 seem hard at first blush, and Tom might think it so. 
 But it was better to crush his hope at once rather than to 
 let him go on deluding himself that anything could 
 reunite them. 
 
 Tfie packing occupied some hours, but she worked hard 
 and late, and finished it before going to bed. 
 
 The night's rest and reflection confirmed her in the 
 plan, and she awoke anxious for Daphne to come, that 
 they two might determine on some course. 
 
 At the same time she was anxious to know the object 
 of her sister's visit. It occurred to her that Daphne's 
 coming might, after all, involve her in the risk of dis- 
 covery. In her present nervous and excited condition 
 of mind this feeling rapidly developed into something 
 akin to alarm lest her sister should be recognised and so 
 placed in danger of arrest. 
 
 It must be a strong motive, she reflected, that could 
 induce Daphne to run such risk ; and as the time passed, 
 and no letter or telegram came from her, Dessie's anxiety 
 increased rapidly. 
 
 The time was getting on indeed for the Count's visit, 
 and Dessie began to fear that the two might meet on 
 their way to the house ; and then her active imagination 
 began to picture the possibilities of unpleasantness which 
 might result from that, and to try and determine what to 
 do to prevent them.
 
 224 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 But there was no need. A full hour before noon, the 
 time which the Count had appointed, a gentle knock 
 sounded on the door. 
 
 It was Daphne, dressed in her nurse's uniform; her 
 hair brushed well behind the black veil which was laid 
 over it, to conceal it as much as possible from sight. 
 
 She came in as quietly, and with as much self-posses- 
 sion, as though entering a sick-room in the exercise of 
 her profession, and taking Bessie's hands in hers, she 
 kissed her on the forehead, and said gently, 
 
 " I am glad you trusted me with this address, dear. 
 I have come up now to tell you that I have changed. I 
 mean to face this man, Colimbert, and dare him to do 
 his worst."
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE COUNT'S PLANS 
 
 THE Count de Montalt had fully appreciated the sig- 
 nificance of Mrs. Davenant's interference as soon as she 
 had told him of the relationship between her and Tom 
 Cheriton. Till that moment he had set down her visit 
 to some action of Bessie's; but the fact that Cheriton's 
 influence would be certain to be exerted to cause Mrs. 
 Davenant to interfere made both her object and motive 
 clear enough. 
 
 Nor did he attempt for a moment to underrate the 
 gravity of the step to him. Mrs. Davenant knew as 
 much as Dessie had known at the first; quite enough, 
 if the facts were once impressed on Mrs. Markham, to 
 make the latter altogether unwilling to marry him. His 
 whole scheme was thus in sudden but imminent danger 
 of failure. 
 
 Yet in a way he rather enjoyed the incident of the 
 interference. It added salt to a rather flavourless court- 
 ship. He had won his victory over Dessie so quickly 
 and with such ease that the effect of that stimulant had 
 worn off. Now, however, there was a much greater 
 difficulty to be faced. Mrs. Davenant was not a woman 
 to be silenced, while that bulldog of a barrister, as he 
 termed Tom Cheriton in his thoughts, would probably 
 hang on to the very last moment. 
 
 Moreover, now that there were others who knew his 
 secret, his hold over Dessie was lessened. He was not
 
 226 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 actuated by any motive of malice or anger towards her. 
 All he wished was to gain his own end in his own way. 
 If that were done he would rather help Dessie than hurt 
 her. It was only when people threatened him that he 
 turned on them. Thus it would serve no purpose to ex- 
 pose Daphne Marlow when no good for himself was to 
 be gained. He wanted to trade on the threat, not to do 
 the thing itself. 
 
 He chose his course with customary promptness. 
 
 On his return to the house with Mrs. Markham after 
 Mrs. Davenant's first call he had seen the latter's card 
 and, scenting danger instantly, had begun to prepare the 
 widow for anything that might be said. He told her that 
 Mrs. Davenant was a woman of somewhat abandoned 
 character who had tried at a critical time of his life to 
 force herself upon him ; that she had professed an over- 
 mastering love for him ; and that having heard of his im- 
 pending marriage she had probably come to try and 
 separate them. 
 
 Mrs. Markham's jealousy was fired in an instant, and 
 she was for refusing to have her in the house at all; 
 but the Count said he had more recently become possessed 
 of information about her which would probably free 
 both from her attentions for the future. For this object, 
 in Mrs. Markham's view, the interview had taken place; 
 and when the Count left Mrs. Davenant he told the 
 widow that the visitor had gone. 
 
 " I have got rid of that woman," he said, with a laugh. 
 " She won't trouble me again as long as I live. I hate 
 being unpleasant to any woman and threatening her 
 with the police, but it is an unfortunate necessity at times. 
 However, now we can start for our little trip," and he 
 kissed her and smiled into her eyes, as though he had 
 not a thought which he did not share with her.
 
 The Count's Plans 227 
 
 They had planned a visit to Brighton, and he led her 
 out of the house, chatting gaily and tenderly, and put 
 her into the carriage with an air of solicitude which 
 suggested that she was just the one thing in all the 
 world that he wished to guard zealously and carefully. 
 Then, with the excuse that he had forgotten something, 
 he ran back into the house, and scribbled the letter for 
 Mrs. Davenant, saying it was to be given to her if she 
 called again. 
 
 As soon as possible he sent a telegram to Dessie say- 
 ing he would call the next day instead of waiting until 
 the time arranged, and lying gaily all the time, he 
 chatted to Mrs. Markham during the train journey 
 to Brighton. 
 
 " I am often sorry for that Mrs. Davenant, despite her 
 conduct, to me," he said once. 
 
 " You always take the charitable view of everybody's 
 conduct, Godefroi," said Mrs. Markham, seeing no need 
 for any display of softness toward a woman who had 
 tried to part them and to win away the Count. 
 
 " I wish I did," he said, with that air of self-condemna- 
 tion which is really self-praise. " But this poor wretch 
 has had the hardest of hard fates an unhappy mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " I daresay she helped to make it so," said Dora, 
 sharply. 
 
 " Oh, very likely. But when I knew the man he was 
 certainly a poor specimen and a brute. Drank like Bacchus 
 himself, and in his cups was a very unpleasant specimen. 
 Beside, he was a rogue, and, I believe, a thief." 
 
 " What was he when they married ? That's what I 
 should want to know. If he was like that then, why did 
 she marry him ? I suppose she had her eyes open. If he 
 was not, then how much had her conduct to do with
 
 228 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 changing him for the worse ? That is how you must look 
 at a match of that kind." 
 
 The widow was in no mood to make excuses or even 
 to hear them made for a woman who had tried to win her 
 lover away. 
 
 " She was very anxious to see you," he said, smiling 
 to her. He could see that she was sufficiently angry now 
 to hear anything. " She kept saying that if you would 
 only just hear her, you would never marry me. Then 
 she called me a thief, a rascal, a villain anything and 
 everything that was insulting and why? I asked her 
 why; and all I could gather was that my crime was in 
 daring to love you, Dora. The woman is mad, my dear ; 
 stark, staring, raving mad, because I would never listen 
 to her. If ever you meet her, or any of those whom she 
 can set against me, you will know how to judge the 
 scandals they may utter." 
 
 " How can I meet them ? Who are they ? " 
 
 " One of them, I regret to say, is that young Cheriton 
 the man who was so insulting to me the other day. 
 I couldn't understand his conduct then ; but now I see 
 it. He is this woman's nephew, possibly her tool; and 
 no doubt she set him to insult me." 
 
 " I will never let him, or any of them, enter my house 
 again," said Mrs. Markham, vehemently; and in this 
 manner feeding the flames of her anger with the fuel 
 of jealousy, the man so excited her rage against Mrs. 
 Davenant and Cheriton that any tale they might tell 
 would certainly be discredited, and the mere fact that 
 they had uttered it would be accepted as proof of its 
 falseness. 
 
 As soon as this point was clear he pressed the subject 
 of an immediate marriage, and as she was only too 
 ready to accede to his wishes the matter was settled as
 
 The Count's Plans 229 
 
 he had wished it by the time the train drew up at 
 Brighton station. There, however, an incident occurred 
 which annoyed him. 
 
 The train came to a standstill just at a point where 
 George Vezey was standing, and as he was expecting 
 friends bj the train, he caught sight of them instantly. 
 The Count was irritated, as he had wished the visit to 
 Brighton to be quite unknown. Vezey knew Cheriton, 
 and in the Count's view any chance connecting link with 
 the latter was a possible source of danger. He knew, too, 
 that Vezey would only be too glad to get hold of some 
 reason for interfering with the marriage. 
 
 A very few words were interchanged, Vezey saying" 
 he should call on Mrs. Markham at her hotel, and then 
 the two drove away together. 
 
 " Poor George ! He is not a bit like the same good 
 fellow," said Mrs. Markham. " But I can't help liking 
 him. He at least wishes me well, Godefroi." 
 
 " You probably ; but me doubtfully," answered the 
 Count, with a laugh. " If he has the same feeling toward 
 me that I should have against him, had he taken you from 
 me, he must hate me with a dangerous hate." 
 
 " You are very fond of me, Godefroi ? " 
 
 " I would give my life for you, Dora ; or take any 
 other's life who parted us. We men of the South love 
 and hate with the heat of the sun in our blood." 
 
 " Could you hate me? " she whispered, taking his hand. 
 
 " Yes, if you loved another man," he answered ve- 
 hemently, " and tearing out my love from my heart I 
 would set it on a poignard's point and drive it right into 
 yours. We of the South hold life cheap where love 
 is false." 
 
 "If that is the only danger which threatens my life, 5 * 
 she whispered ecstatically, " I shall never die."
 
 230 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 That evening he made hot love to her, and before he left 
 to go to his hotel he had arranged to run up to London 
 to get a special license for the marriage. 
 
 On his way to London early the next morning he 
 plumed himself on the victory he was winning, and the 
 knowledge that he held both successes in his hand, de- 
 spite the odds against him, made them infinitely more 
 agreeable than they would have been if won without 
 trouble. 
 
 He went first to Doctors' Commons and arranged the 
 business of the special license, and as soon as that was 
 completed he drove to Bessie's rooms. As matters were 
 going so smoothly with him he was in an excellent 
 temper. 
 
 " It is wonderful what a little pluck and dash will do 
 in this world," he mused. " The odds against my winning 
 such a woman as my wife were thousands to one that 
 day when I pulled that young idiot Vezey out of the 
 scuffle at Antwerp, while they were almost millions 
 against my ever catching sight of those three rubies. Yet 
 I'm going to pull off both coups, and this in despite of 
 the fact that I've been recognised by a couple of people 
 who know pretty well the worst there is to know about 
 me." 
 
 He gave the cabman a liberal fare, and went up Des- 
 sie's staircase with the confident tread of a man who 
 feels he is going to win, and he greeted the girl herself 
 in much the same spirit. 
 
 " I thought it better to come before the time we ar- 
 ranged, Miss Merrion," he said, in his most courteous 
 manner. " I know that my visits are exceedingly dis- 
 tasteful to you. I regret that of course, as my own feel- 
 ings toward you are of the most kindly character, but I
 
 The Count's Plans 231 
 
 cannot fail to see it, and I must act upon it. This will, 
 therefore, be our last interview. I presume you are 
 ready to give me what I have come for ? " 
 
 " Before I give them up I must know more of your 
 right to them," answered Dessie, steadily; and the firm 
 tone in which she spoke and a note of defiance which 
 he had not noticed before made him look at her in some 
 surprise and curiosity. 
 
 " I have not come to discuss anything merely to re- 
 ceive my own property. You know well that it is mine." 
 
 " I have seen Mrs. Davenant since I saw you last, and 
 if I give the jewels to you I may have to account for them 
 to her. It was from her I got them." 
 
 " That is nothing to me. They are mine." 
 
 " That may be, but I have myself to think of. If I 
 give tKem to you and Mrs. Davenant informs the police, 
 what am I to say? I am a journalist earning my own 
 living, and am at least methodical enough to know the 
 risks that attach to handling jewels worth thousands of 
 pounds. You must, therefore, give me such an account 
 of them as will satisfy me and any others who may come 
 to make inquiries." 
 
 The man began to grow angry. 
 
 " What do you mean ? I am no fool to submit to 
 fooling of this kind. Have you the jewels here? " 
 
 " Certainly I have. But it has been sugested to me 
 that before I part with them to you I should ask you how 
 they came into your possession. Will you tell me?" 
 
 " No, it is nothing to you. Do you mean you have 
 spoken of this to anyone ? You know the penalty ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know the penalty," answered Dessie firmly 
 enough. " But the person to whom I have spoken knows 
 you well, so that there is no need for secrecy there."
 
 232 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " Secrecy or no secrecy, I mean to have those rubies, 
 and to have tfiem now." He laid down his umbrella, and 
 went toward the girl with a threatening look on his face. 
 " Will you give them up to me, or am I to take them? 
 You know me." 
 
 " You mean that having me alone here, and at your 
 mercy, you will take them from me by force ? " she asked, 
 backing step by step warily before him. 
 
 " I mean that I will have those rubies. Come, no 
 fooling. I shall use force if you compel me. You are 
 mad to play with me in this way." 
 
 Dessie had backed to the door of one of the inner 
 rooms, and stood against it a moment, facing him as if 
 at bay. 
 
 He looked at her as a beast of prey might look at an 
 easy victim. 
 
 " You had better give them to me," he said, in a tone 
 that was full of menace and rage, and he seemed as if 
 about to rush upon her and seize her in his powerful 
 arms. 
 
 Just as he was about to do this the door opened be- 
 hind her, and Daphne Marlow stepped into the gap. She 
 was dressed, not in her nurse's uniform, but with the 
 magnificent hair which had given her her name of Red 
 Delilah streaming over her shoulders, while her face, 
 white and angry, was set with a look of hate and steady 
 courage, as she stared full into the man's eyes. 
 
 He uttered a sharp exclamation of angry surprise. 
 
 " OH, it's you again, is it, you red devil ? " he cried, 
 furiously. " I might have known you would be at the 
 bottom of this. I've owed you a debt during all these 
 years, and by heaven, I'll pay it now," and he made as if 
 to dash upon her.
 
 " Stop where you are if you want to live ! " 
 
 Page 233.
 
 The Count's Plans 233 
 
 " Stop where you are, if you want to live," cried 
 Daphne, and she levelled a revolver at his head, and the 
 look in her eyes told him that she was as capable as 
 ever of doing a reckless thing, and shooting him down 
 where he stood.
 
 A LAST DEVICE 
 
 THE mortification and rage of the Count de Montalt 
 when he found that he had been thwarted by Daphne 
 were intense. He knew her quite well enough to be 
 aware that she not only could but would use the pistol 
 against him if he pressed her. 
 
 He was quick to recover himself, and accepted the situa- 
 tion, breathing a few deep and hearty curses over his 
 defeat. He laughed, and throwing himself into a chair, 
 said with an assumption of indifference : 
 
 " I give in. You've caught me unarmed and unawares, 
 and may make the most of the opportunity. If I'd known 
 you were going to be present I'd have come prepared; " 
 he looked at Daphne as he spoke. " Well, and what is 
 it you want? I suppose you want something." 
 
 " Move over to that far end of the room," said Daphne, 
 curtly. " I like to have as great a distance as possible 
 between us at a time like this; and maybe you'll lose 
 your tempeT Before the interview's over. You were never 
 a pleasant customer when things went wrong." 
 
 He rose and moved back his chair to the wall without 
 a word. He never did things by halves. He had had to 
 give in; and having swallowed the camel, he did not 
 strain at the gnat. 
 
 " Now, I have a few plain words to say to you," said 
 Daphne. " You have tried to force Dessie here " 
 
 " Shall we say Dorothy? " he interposed with a sneer.
 
 A Last Device 235 
 
 " If you wish to be so very plain-spoken, let us have the 
 whole truth." 
 
 " It is a matter of complete indifference what you call 
 us here," returned Daphne. " You have tried to force 
 Dorothy to do what you wish by threatening to expose 
 me and to put me in the dock on the charge of murder." 
 
 She paused as if expecting him to speak ; and noticing 
 it, he said, with another sneer : 
 
 " You put the matter cogently. Your knowledge of 
 the facts and of the crime, gathered as it is at first hand, 
 enables you to speak with authority." 
 
 " You have twisted the screw one turn too many," said 
 Daphne, taking no notice of the sneer ; " and the thread 
 is broken. When I heard from Des Dorothy what you 
 had done and what you threatened to do, I meant to 
 secure your silence at any cost even the sacrifice of her 
 happiness." 
 
 " Ah, you were always a considerate creature for 
 yourself," he sneered again; but she paid no heed to 
 him. 
 
 " I have changed that intention ; and I am glad to have 
 a chance of telling you the truth at once. If you have 
 the courage to charge me with the crime, I will stand 
 my trial, and let the world know what it may of me; 
 but it shall know something of your share in that matter 
 as well." 
 
 " The world will be exceedingly obliged to you, no 
 doubt though you, personally, may not have much op- 
 portunity of experiencing its sentiments," he said. " And 
 what part is your virtuous sister cast for in this melo- 
 drama? And what is the meaning of all this? Do you 
 want paying?" he asked, brutally. 
 
 "We intend to be free from you," returned Daphne, 
 promptly.
 
 236 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " Anyone who passes through the dock to the gallows 
 is necessarily freed from the influence of others. But 
 what are you going to gain by changing from hospital 
 nurse to prison convict to take the brightest view of 
 your future ? " 
 
 " Your sneers have no power to move us," said Daphne, 
 quietly. " Nor are we moved only in this by the one 
 motive which you can understand self-advantage." 
 
 " Oh, you've turned virtuous in your old age." 
 
 " My object now is to save my sister " 
 
 " By letting the world know she has lived under a false 
 name, is the daughter of a forger and the sister of a 
 woman who climaxed a career of vice with murder. I 
 don't know what you think you're saving her from, but 
 anyone can see what you are saving her for." He 
 spoke with intense bitterness. 
 
 " To save my sister," Daphne resumed, as though she 
 had not been interrupted, " from the shame of witnessing 
 the delivery of her friend to your greedy and murderous 
 hands ! " 
 
 " So you still think and hope you can keep Mrs. 
 Markham's fortune for yourself, eh ? " he asked, flashing 
 a look at Dessie. 
 
 " You can take your choice of courses, therefore," con- 
 tinued Daphne. 
 
 " But you can't do it. I'm not such a fool as to leave 
 you the chance of coming between me and my plans, and 
 you " (to Dessie) " of breaking your friend's heart 
 under the cowardly guise of pretending to shield her, 
 when your one object is to keep a clutch on her money." 
 
 " You can do as you please," repeated Daphne. 
 " Either give up the whole scheme, marriage, jewels and 
 all, and leave the country, or go to the police, inform 
 them that you know where Red Delilah can be found, and
 
 A Last Device 237 
 
 stand your chance that way. Adolphe Colimbert may not 
 be an unwelcome visitor himself at Scotland Yard, and 
 this I swear " she flashed for a moment out of her 
 calm, and her voice rang with deep intensity of feeling 
 " not another hour shall pass, unless you leave the 
 country, without Scotland Yard knowing that the Count 
 de Montalt and Adolphe Colimbert are one and the same 
 person." 
 
 He laughed and a perfectly easy self-assured laugh 
 it was. 
 
 " Just as you please. The whole thing is getting very 
 interesting and almost exciting. But you've made one 
 little miscalculation. You, Dorothy, not Daphne ; she " 
 and he pointed at the latter " wouldn't have made it. 
 Your rich friend is already all but my wife. We left 
 London yesterday together for a destination that no one 
 knows, and we are to be married to-morrow morning 
 privately I have the special license and in the evening 
 we leave for the Continent on our honeymoon a pair of 
 happy, trustful, devoted lovers." He told the lie with 
 emphatic precision. 
 
 " I don't believe it," exclaimed Dessie, excitedly. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders, and raised his hands. 
 
 " Nevertheless it is true," he retorted, " and you may 
 ask your most remarkable and experienced sister whether 
 I am not quite calculated to hold what I have once won." 
 
 " I don't believe it," repeated Dessie. 
 
 He laughed again, as if at her scepticism, but in reality 
 to conceal the thoughts that were fast crowding upon 
 him. He was beaten, and only at the last moment when 
 he had made sure that he stood on the very threshold 
 of success. But he meant to yield fighting, and so long 
 as there was a bare possibility of winning he would carry 
 on the struggle.
 
 238 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 With the elder sister in London ready to face the ex- 
 posure and go through with her trial for the murder of 
 the Indian prince, all his power over both the girls was 
 broken. He could only hope to win all and openly so 
 long as the girls were kept apart and Bessie could be 
 frightened into silence to save her sister at any cost. 
 
 But there were other ways of winning beside those 
 which were open and on the surface. The Rohilkund 
 jewels were worth half a king's ransom ; thousands could 
 be got for them as a reward for their restitution alone, 
 while if a means could be found of selling them, they 
 were worth a fortune. Of the two he would as soon have 
 the jewels as the widow; and it was for this purpose he 
 had told them of the arrangement to marry the widow 
 on the following day. 
 
 After a long pause he dropped the bantering, sneering 
 tone in which he had chiefly spoken, and said, with a kind 
 of calculated bluntness : 
 
 " Now tell me what is your real object in this? Is it 
 to compel me to lose my hold on Mrs. Markham? If 
 so, what terms do you offer? " The change in his manner 
 disgusted Dessie, but the elder sister read it aright. 
 Either the man wanted to make terms, or to hide some 
 other object and plan. 
 
 " You can leave the country," she replied readily. 
 
 " Not enough," he said. 
 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " Trie jewels, and at least a thousand pounds. I shall 
 get more from Mrs. Markham." 
 
 " You'll not Have a thousand pence from me ; and as 
 for the jewels, not a stone of them. Do what you will." 
 
 He rose from his chair as though in answer to the 
 challenge. 
 
 " Nothing that you can do can prevent my marrying
 
 A Last Device 239 
 
 Mrs. Markham to-morrow nothing shall prevent it; 
 
 and when once she is my wife " He finished the 
 
 sentence with a look which he intended to be a threat; 
 and in that sense Dessie instantly interpreted it 
 
 " Why not give up the jewels? " she cried impetuously, 
 looking at Daphne, and at the same time putting her 
 hand to her dress as if to tak'e them out. The man 
 noticed the gesture quickly and turned his face away that 
 the elder sister should not see his eyes. 
 
 He knew now where the jewels were; and the curt 
 refusal by Daphne that followed did not concern him. 
 
 " As you will," he said, assuming an expression of 
 baffled anger and intense mortification. " But I'll be 
 frank with you. To-morrow, Mrs. Markham will be my 
 wife, and then you may be sorry enough that you re- 
 fused my terms." 
 
 With that he opened the door viciously and slammed 
 it angrily behind him. When he was halfway down the 
 staircase he stopped to think. An idea had occurred to 
 him and he set his quick busy wits to work to think 
 out its details. 
 
 The gesture which Dessie had made, as if to take 
 the jewels out of the bodice of her dress, had shown him 
 that she was carrying them on her. 
 
 His scheme was simply not to lose sight of the girl 
 until the rubies were in his possession ; and to do this he 
 resolved on the daring plan of getting Dessie herself into 
 his power. 
 
 He argued and a shrewd enough argument it was 
 that so long as the rubies remained out of the safe they 
 would be in Dessie's care. He had left it all uncertain 
 whether or not he meant to accuse Daphne of the murder 
 of the Indian, Maiwand ; and, obviously it would be the 
 height of imprudence for her to risk being arrested with
 
 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 the property of the murdered man actually in her posses- 
 sion. Such a thing would make it infinitely more difficult 
 to prove that she was innocent of the crime. Moreover, 
 only Dessie herself could go to the safe to put the rubies 
 back there; while it was extremely probable that her 
 first instinct would be to rush off to South Kensington 
 to ascertain whether Mrs. Markham had really left Lon- 
 don with him. 
 
 His task was thus to make sure that Dessie had no 
 chance of putting the rubies back in the safe, until he 
 should have had an opportunity of taking them from her 
 if she carried them about with her ; or of ransacking her 
 rooms for them if she left them there. 
 
 To get her into his power he resolved to use once more 
 the man who wanted to marry her, and was, he knew, 
 willing to go to almost any lengths for that end Sir 
 Edmund Landale. 
 
 He wrote a hasty note to the latter. 
 
 " Come at once with your brougham to the corner of 
 Great Russell Street, and then come on foot to the corner 
 of D. M.'s street, where you will find me waiting for 
 you. If I am not there, drive as quickly as you can to 
 Edgcumbe Square, South Kensington, and wait for me 
 at the north end of the Square. Do not delay a moment. 
 You can win D. M. now certainly, if you will." 
 
 He gave the letter with a liberal tip to a hansom cab- 
 man, and told him to drive as quickly as he could to 
 Sir Edmund Landale's address; and as soon as the man 
 had whisked his horse round and started off at a fast 
 trot the Count chose a spot where he could watch the 
 door of the house where Dessie had her rooms, and 
 waited for her to come out. If his calculations were 
 right, she would come soon, because she would be in a
 
 A Last Device 241 
 
 hurry to get to South Kensington, and ascertain the 
 news about Mrs. Markham. 
 
 His plan was to follow Dessie, to get her involved in a 
 street row, and to arrange that Sir Edmund Landale 
 should appear in the middle of it as if by chance, step 
 in, save the girl from those who might be molesting her, 
 put her into his carriage, and drive her away. He knew, 
 too, that the baronet had a place, a house in the suburbs, 
 to which Dessie could be taken; and once safely housed 
 there, the rest would be comparatively easy. 
 
 As he stood waiting, de Montalt watched the people 
 in the street until a woman of the kind he wanted passed. 
 He spoke to her ; told her that he would give her a couple 
 of sovereigns if she and one or two more would hustle 
 and mob Dessie at a signal from him. They were not to 
 harm her ; but they might pretend to recognise her as an 
 old companion, and if she was indignant, to abuse and 
 threaten her. If the two sisters came together, they 
 were to be separated in some way ; while the whole thing 
 was to be stopped when a gentleman should get out of a 
 carriage and come to Dessie's rescue. 
 
 The woman was glad enough to have a chance of 
 earning the money easily, and did not stop to ask what 
 was to happen to the girl, or whether any harm was 
 meant or not. Her anxiety was whether she would get 
 the money when the work was done. The payment of 
 half-a-sovereign in advance settled her scruples on that 
 account, and she hurried away to find companions who 
 would assist her. 
 
 De Montalt's fear now was lest Dessie should come 
 out before trie Baronet could arrive and have the plan 
 explained to him; and as the minutes passed without 
 the sign of the brougham, his concern increased.
 
 242 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 The woman came back, bringing with her four com- 
 panions as ill-looking as herself and ripe for any street 
 mischief. If the Baronet did not arrive before Dessie 
 left the house, it would be necessary for the street scene 
 to be laid in South Kensington, and for this purpose the 
 women would have to be driven over there. The Count 
 called up the woman and explained this to her, and 
 while he was speaking to her he saw a smart brougham 
 pull up and Sir Edmund Landale get out and hurry in his 
 direction. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked the Baronet, eagerly, as he came 
 up. " Am I in time ? What has happened ? " 
 
 " Do you want to get Dessie Merrion completely into 
 your power?" asked the Count, in reply. "If you do, 
 there is a chance now; and I will help you." In a 
 comparatively few words he explained the whole plan of 
 the pretended trouble and the rescue. " As soon as you 
 have her in the carriage drive off at a smart pace in the 
 direction of South Kensington, going along Oxford 
 street, and then make for that place of yours in St. John's 
 Wood. You can invent some sort of excuse for not 
 going straight to South Kensington, and the girl will be 
 too excited over the street adventure, and too grateful to 
 you for rescuing her, to ask many questions. I'll follow, 
 and then we can settle the thing together. Once get her 
 to that house and she'll never leave it except as your 
 wife. Now, you understand ? " 
 
 The other man yielded readily, and rather liked the 
 scheme; and it did not occur to him to ask what the 
 Count's motive was likely to be. It was enough for him 
 that the plan seemed to promise what he wanted. 
 
 In another minute the two men had separated to wait 
 for Dessie's coming.
 
 A Last Device 243 
 
 They had not to wait long now. A few minutes later 
 she came out of the house alone, and after casting a 
 quick glance up and down the street, she walked at a good 
 pace in the direction of Oxford street the direction 
 which took her straight into the midst of the women who 
 were on the watch for her.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 TRAPPED 
 
 THE calculations which the Count had made as to the 
 probable actions of the two sisters were singularly shrewd 
 and accurate; and the moment he had left them they set 
 to work to plan out their best course of action. 
 
 " What does he mean to do, Daphne ? " 
 
 " It is impossible to say yet," was the reply. " He has 
 probably gone away to think over the new position and 
 to make some fresh plans. He won't give in without a 
 big effort ; and much of that effort will depend upon how 
 far he thinks he can get off scot free from any investiga- 
 tion into the murder of the Indian. If he is sure that my 
 conviction will be secured without any risk to himself, 
 my arrest will take place within five minutes. He will 
 bring the first policeman he meets up here." 
 
 " Oh, Daphne," cried her sister, with an expression of 
 pain. 
 
 " I am not afraid, dear. I have taken up the cross 
 and I'll carry it now. Better the trial now than the un- 
 certainty that lingers like a canker, killing every hope. 
 I didn't kill the man. I didn't even rob him, as robbery 
 is understood in criminal courts. But if I am not to live 
 a life of constant disguise and fear of discovery, the trial 
 must come ; and so far as I am concerned the sooner the 
 better." 
 
 " I can't endure the thought of it." 
 
 " If I can, you may," said the elder sister, curtly. 
 
 244
 
 Trapped 245 
 
 " I don't mean for my own sake only. The thought of 
 your having to face a whole court of people, and " 
 
 " It's not that I flinch from," said Daphne, interposing. 
 " The world and I have always been on terms of mutual 
 dislike and distrust, and one more chance of showing it 
 won't count for much with me. Besides, I had my fling, 
 and must pay the cost. I'm no coward. But I'm not by 
 any means sure that it will come to that. I thought so 
 when you first came to me; and I'll own I was scared. 
 But this scoundrel has too much to hazard to risk it 
 thoughtlessly." 
 
 " He is such a desperate man, Daphne." 
 
 " Desperate, yes, but always with one eye to his own 
 interest. Let him have what influence he may with this 
 fool of a friend of yours this Mrs. Markham the 
 knowledge that he is really Colimbert and Lespard rolled 
 into one a convicted murderer in the one character, and 
 a very probable one in the other would certainly prevent 
 her marrying him. To accuse me and rake up that horri- 
 ble scandal will mean the wreck of his marriage hopes, 
 therefore, at the start, and he won't do that without 
 strong reason." 
 
 " But we are going to stop that marriage in any case ; 
 and he knows it." 
 
 " No, he only knows we've said so. He is too accus- 
 tomed to threaten one thing and mean another to take 
 every threat of ours for gospel." 
 
 " Yet I do mean it," said Dessie, firmly. " I wish we 
 had done what he asked given him these wretched 
 jewels and let him get out of the country with them as 
 soon as possible, and be quit of him." She took them 
 out of her dress as she spoke and tossed them on to the 
 table. " If I can save Dora now it is as much as I want, 
 and he can have the rubies with pleasure."
 
 246 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " It will be time to think of that when we know really 
 what he means to do. So long as those rubies remain 
 in your possession you can make your own terms with 
 him. Let him get them, however, and we shall both be 
 at his mercy. At present he clings to the hope that he 
 can both win the rich wife and force or juggle us out of 
 the jewels. To-morrow he will know that Mrs. Mark- 
 ham at any rate is lost to him that is if we can find her 
 and then these stones will have a much greater value in 
 his eyes. Keep them. You had better keep them not I. 
 If they were found on me, supposing I am arrested, 
 things would probably go much harder with me. I 
 should take them back to the safe if I were you." 
 
 " I will," said Dessie, " but I am anxious to go and 
 find out the truth about Dora Markham. Even an hour's 
 delay may be serious now." 
 
 " Then you'd better go at once." 
 
 " But what will you do, dear ? " 
 
 " Wait here for what happens. I have made up my 
 mind. Do you think I am not as resolute as you ? " and 
 Daphne smiled. " You won't be very long away in any 
 case, and I shall put on my uniform and be Nurse Mor- 
 land once more. If anyone comes for you I shall be only 
 a nurse waiting to see you for journalistic purposes, or 
 some such excuse. We nurses are used to exercising 
 patience. Get back as soon as you can, and then we 
 will settle our next step." 
 
 Dessie was not many minutes getting ready. 
 
 " What shall I do with these ? " she asked, when she 
 was ready, holding out the rubies. " I can't carry the 
 cigar case about with me, nor the tobacco cake. I think 
 I'm a little nervous about having such valuables on me 
 at all." 
 
 *"' There's not much fear in broad daylight," replied the
 
 Trapped 247 
 
 other. " But wait, let me look where we can best hide 
 them. Not your stays that's the first place everyone 
 thinks of. Better here." She unhooked the girl's dress 
 skirt, and in a few minutes had stitched the rubies into 
 the top of the skirt at the back, where the gathers effectu- 
 ally hid all sign of them. " There now, even a profes- 
 sional searcher might run her hands over you and miss 
 them." 
 
 They laughed at the precaution thus taken and with a 
 kiss parted, Dessie running lightly and quickly down- 
 stairs. As she closed the heavy door behind her, and 
 stood a moment on the top step, she glanced round, 
 the thought in her mind being to make sure that the 
 Count de Montalt was not waiting for her; and seeing 
 nothing, she walked off at a brisk pace. 
 
 She had barely turned the first corner, however, when 
 she found her way barred by a number of women, gaudily 
 dressed in flaunting but shabby clothes. 
 
 They formed a semi-circle in front of her, and one of 
 them came close and held out her hand. 
 
 " Ullo, Molly, old dear, who'd a thought of seeing you 
 here ? You are a toft, you are. Wot's your lay now ? " 
 
 " What do you mean ? I don't know you," said Dessie, 
 quickly, feeling not a little alarmed at the women's looks 
 and gestures. They all burst into a loud, discordant 
 laugh when she spoke, and the one who had addressed 
 her turned to the rest and said, with an oath : 
 
 " My ! ain't she proud, the bloomin' 'ussy. Look 'ere, 
 Moll, that ain't good enough fur me. You may be a fine 
 lydy as yer thinks yer are, praps but you never paid 
 me that arf quid you borrered, not you. No, nor ever 
 shelled out for them boots as yer sneaked. I dessay yer 
 all right ; but, if so, shell out now, and be to you." 
 
 " I never saw any one of you before in my life," said
 
 248 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 Dessie ; " and, o! course, you all know that well enough. 
 I'm only a hard-working girl, like any one of you, 
 and " 
 
 " 'Ard workin' gell be sugared," cried the spokes- 
 woman. " I ain't no 'ard workin' gell, and you knows 
 that well enough. No more ain't you. But I want my 
 coin that which yer borrered, and that for all the things 
 yer sneaked ; and what I want to know is are yer goin' 
 ter pay or take the consequences ? I don't care which ; 
 and so that's straight, eh gells ? " 
 
 A chorus of approbation came from the four women, 
 and this was followed by an evident disposition to change 
 from words to something more serious. They jostled 
 Dessie, abused her for having borrowed money and stolen 
 things, and closing round in a small semi-circle shut her 
 up against the wall of a house, and barred every way of 
 escape. 
 
 The incident did not last more than a minute or two, 
 but it quickly developed so threatening as aspect, that 
 Dessie was thoroughly frightened, and looked in all di- 
 rections for the help which did not come. 
 
 When it had reached its height, a brougham drove by 
 rapidly, tfie occupant called, in a loud voice, to the driver 
 to stop, he jumped out, and before the women seemed 
 to have realised what had happened, Sir Edmund Landale 
 pushed his way into their midst, gave his arm to Dessie, 
 who was now trembling and frightened, and handed her 
 into the carriage. 
 
 " You can explain afterwards," he said, as he handed 
 her into the brougham. " Let us get away first. Who 
 on earth are these creatures ; " he exclaimed, as the 
 women crowded round the carriage gesticulating and 
 shouting as if in anger at having been baulked in their 
 purpose.
 
 Trapped 249 
 
 " I haven't the remotest idea. Either they made some 
 extraordinary mistake, believing I was some former as- 
 sociate of theirs that was what they pretended or else 
 they meant to hustle and rob me. At any rate, I was 
 really frightened, and infinitely relieved when you came 
 bursting through them to my help." She smiled hei 
 thanks. 
 
 " I am only too glad I happened to be passing and saw 
 you. What a lucky coincidence! But now, where are 
 you going? Let me put you in safety, at any rate." The 
 brougham was being driven at a quick pace along Oxford 
 Street, in accordance with de Montalt's instructions. 
 
 " I will get out here, I think," said Dessie. " Any- 
 where will do. I am quite myself again now, I'm not 
 likely to be worried twice in a day by such an adventure." 
 
 " I think you had better wait a little longer yet. Be- 
 sides, it is so pleasant for me to have you here, to drive 
 with me, that I hope you won't hurry. Where are you 
 going?" 
 
 " To South Kensington to Mrs. Markham's house in 
 Edgcumbe Square." 
 
 " I am going to South Kensington myself," returned 
 her companion. " Let me drive you there. You will 
 get there at least as quickly as if you go by any other 
 means. I have one call to make by the way which will 
 not take up much time, and my horses travel fast. What 
 say you ? " He asked the question in a tone of such ap- 
 parently genuine solicitude, and Dessie was so really 
 grateful to him for the service he had just rendered her, 
 that she consented. She was without a suspicion that 
 anything was wrong or that the whole incident was not 
 due to quite natural and innocent causes. 
 
 Sir Edmund Landale turned the conversation into the 
 safe grooves of small talk; chatted with her about her
 
 250 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 work, told her he had bought copies of all her books, 
 pressed her to tell him what she was writing, urged her 
 to make use of him in any way to get her writings better 
 known, and was altogether so pleasant and agreeable 
 that when the carriage turned out of Oxford Street to 
 the north toward Finchley instead of south toward Ken- 
 sington, she scarcely paid any heed to the fact more than 
 to accept the explanation he volunteered that He was 
 just going to make the business call he had before re- 
 ferred to. 
 
 The brougham went at a great pace along Baker street 
 and across into St. John's Wood, and when they had 
 passed the shops and were rattling through the squares 
 and streets of private houses, Dessie began to feel a vague 
 uneasiness. 
 
 " I am really in a hurry," she said at length, and her 
 face wore a look of doubt. " Are you going very far? " 
 
 " Oh, no, the place is only about five minutes from 
 here, or at the outside ten ; and really you will be quite 
 as soon at your friend's. From Holborn to South Ken- 
 sington via Finchley road is not the shortest cut, of 
 course; but it is quicker behind a pair of horses like 
 mine than in an omnibus, and much safer than on foot. 
 But I should like to tell you what this little business is of 
 mine. You are a woman journalist and knock about a 
 good deal ; so you'll really be a judge. You writers pick 
 up all sorts of odds and ends of useful knowledge, and I 
 daresay you know a lot about singing birds. Do you? 
 I've been asked to buy a wonderful cage bird a great 
 beauty, and a splendid singer and talker; extraordinary 
 that for a small bird, isn't it ? And to tell you the truth 
 I have rather jumped at the chance of having you with 
 me to see it. There are so many scores of ways in which 
 a man gets taken in in thing? of the kind, where a worn-
 
 Trapped 251 
 
 an's sharp eyes can see the imposture in a moment. And 
 you know I have unbounded faith in you." He laughed 
 lightly as he added. " I hope you won't be awfully 
 angry with me for having brought you so far out of your 
 way on such an errand." 
 
 " I'm afraid I should have said no, had you asked me 
 in the first place," said Dessie, candidly. She was an- 
 noyed, and did not conceal it. 
 
 " I am really very sorry. Shall I stop him now ? " and 
 he took the check string in his hand. " I will if you wish 
 it ; but you can really do me a little service, and it is not 
 far now." 
 
 Bessie's good nature conquered her irritation. 
 
 " I can really be of no use whatever to you in the 
 matter, but if you wish to make the call, don't hesitate 
 on my account." 
 
 " I have not asked you much," he returned, as if a 
 little annoyed and disappointed at her manner after the 
 help he had been to her in the matter of the women ; and 
 feeling this, Dessie was more gracious. 
 
 In this way he blinded her completely to the fact that 
 the house he was taking her to was his own, and that his 
 object was infinitely treacherous and cowardly, and when 
 the carriage was slackened and after passing through a 
 pair of gates and along a circular carriage drive was 
 pulled up sharply in front of a small house standing by 
 itself in pretty secluded grounds, she still had no sus- 
 picion. 
 
 " This is the place. Will you come in ? " asked her 
 companion, and his manner showed his nervousness now 
 that the critical moment had come. 
 
 Dessie seemed to notice the change, and it made her 
 hesitate about leaving the carriage and entering the 
 house.
 
 252 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " I don't think I'll come in," she said, peering out at 
 the house. " I don't like the look of the place. Do you 
 know anything of the people ? " 
 
 " Everything," he answered, recovering himself and 
 smiling. " Come in. I shan't be more than three min- 
 utes settling everything." 
 
 Dessie yielded reluctantly and against a subtle instinct 
 which warned her that all was not right. She rose slowly 
 when the door had been opened and followed the baro- 
 net up the steps of the house. 
 
 As she was in the act of entering, the sound of wheels 
 caught her ear, and turning to glance back she saw a cab 
 enter the carriage drive at a quick pace, the occupant 
 being the Count de Montalt. 
 
 She stopped on the very threshold, and would have 
 turned back, but her companion grasped her arm firmly. 
 
 " This is the room, Miss Merrion," he exclaimed, and 
 hurried her into one on the right. Then with a laugh, he 
 added, " I call this now the cage, and you are the bird." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " exclaimed Dessie, very an- 
 grily. 
 
 " Simply that this is my house and you are my guest." 
 
 " You mean you have trapped me here ? " cried the 
 girl indignantly. 
 
 " I mean that I am only too delighted to have you as 
 my guest; but this gentleman will help to explain mat- 
 ters ; " and as he spoke the Count de Montalt entered the 
 room.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 IN THE HAND OF THE ENEMY 
 
 THE Count came in smiling and suave as usual, and 
 his eyes showed a gleam of excitement at the success of 
 the plan which had been so rapidly formed. 
 
 Dessie herself was filled with fear, but she was far 
 too shrewd to betray her feelings. She knew the char- 
 acter of the one man profoundly that there was no 
 length of villainy and even cruelty from which he would 
 flinch. To let him see that she was afraid of him would 
 have been sheer madness. 
 
 As to Sir Edmund Landale, she was in doubt. He was 
 rather de Montalt's dupe than his accomplice, and it re- 
 mained for her to see how far he was a conscious tool. 
 Much would depend upon her accurate reading of the 
 relations between the two men, and on the adroitness 
 with which she could play off the one against the other. 
 
 But her contempt for the baronet was intense, and she 
 could not but recognise how insecure her chances of es- 
 cape from evil were, since they depended only or mainly 
 upon his not proving so big a rascal as he appeared. 
 
 It was a desperate position, indeed; and as the con- 
 siderations flashed one after another through the girl's 
 thoughts she seemed to understand how great her peril 
 might really be, and what terrible consequences would 
 certainly follow any false move on her part. 
 
 Her first step was clear. She must ascertain what the 
 men wanted. Putting a bold front upon matters, there-
 
 254 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 fore, she waited only until the Count had closed the door, 
 and then addressed him sharply: 
 
 " Sir Edmund Landale tells me that you have taken 
 the chief part in entrapping me here. Why have you 
 done so ? " 
 
 " My dear Miss Merrion, you can surely answer that 
 question for yourself, without my help," he answered, 
 smoothly. " There can be but one reason. My friend 
 has an overpowering desire for your company. His in- 
 terests are mine; his desires, in this case, mine " he 
 spoke here with a double meaning, which he managed to 
 convey in a particularly expressive glance, " and what 
 could I do but place my poor services at his disposal ? " 
 
 " You are not speaking the truth," said Dessie, curtly. 
 " You are not the man to act without having your own 
 interest first. What is it that you want? What is your 
 price ? " she asked contemptuously. 
 
 " You are naturally angry at having been caught in 
 this way and I excuse that most gratuitous insult. I 
 have no price. I seek nothing. So far as I am con- 
 cerned you are as free as air to go when you please." 
 
 " You mean you were paid to get me here, and having 
 done your dirty work your master will pay you." 
 
 " I mean nothing of the kind," he replied, imperturb- 
 ably. " I have no object whatever of my own to seek." 
 
 He was lying, obviously; and the girl rapidly sought 
 for the reason, ransacking her mind for a probable clue 
 to his conduct. Why should he deny that he had an 
 object in getting her into the power of himself and the 
 other ? 
 
 " If I can go I will," said Dessie, suddenly ; and she 
 turned and walked quickly to the door. The baronet 
 put himself in the way, while de Montalt looked on 
 smiling.
 
 In the Hand of the Enemy 255 
 
 " You can't go yet, Dessie," said the former. 
 
 a Will you tell me the truth why I have been brought 
 here? Do you believe that man when he says he has 
 no object of his own to serve in trapping me? " 
 
 " It does not matter to me whether he has or not," was 
 the answer, rather doggedly spoken. " You are here, in 
 my house in my power if you will ; and I cannot let you 
 go." 
 
 " What is your price ? " asked the girl, defiantly. 
 
 " You can only leave this house as my wife." The 
 answer came, clearly spoken, with a determination that 
 evidenced the obstinacy of a selfish man. 
 
 " Then I will die here," answered the girl, with equal 
 determination, as she moved back and sat down. 
 
 The Count laughed. 
 
 " It is a very pretty situation," he said, " very pretty in- 
 deed. Strephon is mad with his great purpose, has 
 caught pretty Phyllis in the toils, and threatens all the 
 pains and penalties of unrequited love if she will not 
 yield to his suit; and Phyllis sits down in a chair and 
 calls on Death to come and shake her resolution with a 
 touch of his cold, grimy ringer. I don't think you'll wait 
 for Death, Miss Merrion. You'll find him a cold con- 
 soler." 
 
 Dessie took no notice of him ; and a long silence fol- 
 lowed, broken at length by a sneering laugh from the 
 Count. 
 
 " I think you ought to know part of the truth, at any 
 rate. I am not ashamed nor afraid to tell my share in 
 this business. You owe it to me entirely, and not to my 
 friend here, that you have been brought to this house. 
 I ought to make the admission, and I do freely, because 
 otherwise you may do what I see you are inclined to do 
 put some of the blame upon him. I told this gentleman
 
 256 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 that it was a matter of the greatest urgency for me to 
 have you taken somewhere, in order that I might have 
 an absolutely secret interview. He believed me; and I 
 laid the plans accordingly. As you have probably guessed, 
 the crowd of women into whose mrdst you walked half 
 an hour ago were paid by me to molest you. In the mid- 
 dle of it Sir Edmund here drove up and you jumped into 
 the brougham in the belief that you were being saved 
 from a very awkward fix. A word or two of explanation 
 secured your being brought here to this house. And my 
 friend consented to the little deception because he be- 
 lieved he was rendering me a great service. There I de- 
 ceived him. That is the true story of your coming here ; 
 and until now I have not had an opportunity to explain 
 to him that my motive was not at all what he thought, 
 but solely to help him. I caused him to do what, for 
 himself and on his own account, he would never have 
 done; and you must please not blame him when the 
 whole share falls to me. I am not afraid to carry it." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders as he finished, and with a 
 waft of the hand seemed to throw the responsibility away 
 from him. 
 
 " I am sure that is not true," said Dessie, readily. " In 
 the first place it sounds false; and in the second it is so 
 utterly out of character with everything I know about 
 you, that I don't believe it for a moment. Do you know 
 who this man is ? " she asked, turning upon Sir Edmund 
 and pointing at de Montalt. 
 
 The latter interposed swiftly. 
 
 " The question is not who I am ; and we should not 
 accept the description of a young lady who, having been 
 considerably outwitted, is angry with the man who has 
 outwitted her."
 
 In the Hand of the Enemy 257 
 
 He looked at her with a warning and threatening ex- 
 pression which made her pause. 
 
 She began to read the riddle now ; and the knowledge 
 gave her some little encouragement. 
 
 Clearly he did not wish her to tell the baronet his 
 real character; and this told her that his apparent in-' 
 difference to her presence in the house was the result of 
 some calculated purpose. This gave her a ray of hope. 
 If he was playing a double game, against Sir Edmund 
 Landale as well as against herself, her own wits would 
 probably soon show her a way to help herself. She must 
 first see what knowledge the other man possessed. 
 
 " How much do you know of what has passed between 
 this gentleman and myself ? Has he told you any- 
 thing?" she asked sharply, turning again to Sir Ed- 
 mund. 
 
 " What is there that he should know ? " interpolated 
 Montalt. 
 
 " What do I want to know ? That is the question. I 
 care not a jot for anything he may have said to you or 
 you to him. You are here. That is enough for me." 
 
 " I begin to understand the position now," said the 
 girl, quietly. " And it will not turn out as you think. 
 My friends are neither fools nor powerless." 
 
 " They won't look for you in Sir Edmund Landale's 
 arms, all the same," sneered de Montalt. " You don't 
 seem to understand the position, for all your words. No 
 one knows that you are here. No one can possibly trace 
 you here. No one can, therefore, look for you here. So 
 far as others are concerned you have disappeared that's 
 all. Thousands of people drop out of sight in London 
 every year and there are thousands of reasons to ac- 
 count for it. What is one young woman more or less in
 
 258 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 big, brawling London ? Why, a thousand might go and 
 not one be missed." 
 
 " We shall see," said Dessie, firmly, though her heart 
 sank, for she knew there was plenty of truth in what he 
 said. 
 
 " Yes, we shall see ; and as the days pass and you do 
 not return it will only be set down to your eccentricity. 
 You will not forget that once before you had to cut adrift 
 all connections with your old life and make a plucky start 
 "in a new one. If once, why not twice? Don't deceive 
 yourself. You can't be found here in this house; and 
 wnen the little splash of your jump into the pool of ob- 
 scurity has subsided, and the surface is all calm again, 
 you will be absolutely forgotten." 
 
 " Do you mean you are going to keep me here for- 
 ever ? " asked Dessie, laughing incredulously. " We are 
 not playing a melodrama, we three." 
 
 " Nevertheless, you will not find it easy to escape," was 
 the reply, coldly and deliberately spoken. " And you are 
 forgetting one thing. You are alone in the house, and 
 there are no other women here. You can only leave it 
 more than compromised." 
 
 At the words Dessie turned chill. She had had in her 
 mind the fear of personal danger only, and this other 
 effect had escaped her altogether. 
 
 She looked straight at Sir Edmund Landale. 
 
 " Do you bear out this man's words? " she asked. 
 
 He said nothing, and would not meet her eyes. 
 
 " You hear what I say ? " she said, her heart sinking 
 within her at his silence. " Have you sunk so low that 
 you can contemplate the dastardly scheme of trying to 
 force me to marry you by such a means as this ? " 
 
 There was a long pause, in which he stood irresolute 
 and uneasy under the steady look of her eyes. He looked
 
 In the Hand of the Enemy 259 
 
 up swiftly once, but as quickly let his eyes fall ; and when 
 he did answer it was with a sort of sullen defiance which 
 was perceptible alike in his manner, tone and words. 
 
 " I've told you more than once I'd do anything to win 
 you, and I meant it. Any way that makes you give in to 
 me is welcome, and you must give in now." 
 
 " Then heaven help you for a pitiful scoundrel," cried 
 the girl desperately. " And mark this : I'll starve rather 
 than yield to you. Ten thousand times sooner than be 
 your wife I'll kill myself, and do it cheerfully." 
 
 " I shall not give up for any hot words spoken now," 
 replied Landale. " Nothing shall make me give up now, 
 indeed, when I have the whole thing in my hands." 
 
 " We shall see," answered Dessie, smiling as if in 
 rather contemptuous disbelief, but inwardly very much 
 afraid. " Perhaps you'll tell me what I am to do ? 
 Where is my jail ? Who my jailer? What my jail food ? 
 The whole thing is so monstrous that I am compelled to 
 laugh at it." 
 
 " Nevertheless, you will find it no farce," said the 
 Count de Montalt, angrily, " and no laughing matter." 
 
 " Nor you either," answered Dessie, resolutely. " If I 
 do not make all London ring with the infamy of this 
 my pen has lost its cunning." 
 
 " People are not generally eager to write up their owri 
 defeat or their own dishonour. Wait," he said, with a 
 malicious sneer. 
 
 " It is not only my own defeat I should have to record," 
 retorted the girl. " But do what you will. I am in- 
 different." 
 
 " Your rooms are upstairs. Will you go to them ? " 
 said Sir Edmund, after a moment of silence. 
 
 " Do you mean will I go quietly or shall I require you 
 to carry me ? " asked Dessie, laughing. " It might be
 
 260 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 more melodramatic if I were to scream and struggle and 
 force you to gag and carry me, as people would have to, 
 say in one of my stories. But I prefer to look at the farce 
 of the thing and walk. I presume that a day or two's 
 reflection will show you the rank absurdity of this ridic- 
 ulous conduct, or, at any rate, convince you that you had 
 better make terms with me instead of being gibbeted all 
 over London and in half the papers in the kingdom as 
 the hero of a sort of illegitimate Jackson case. Which, 
 is the way? Show me." She stood facing the two men 
 pluckily, and laughing to hide the genuine dismay that 
 she felt. 
 
 The baronet opened the door and led the way upstairs, 
 the Count de Montalt following close on Bessie's heels, 
 as though to prevent any attempt at escape. But she was 
 far too shrewd to make any effort of the kind. It would 
 have been useless then. If she was to escape, it must be 
 when the men were far less on their guard than at that 
 moment. 
 
 She entered the rooms they showed her without the 
 least hesitation, standing a moment to make a rapid sur- 
 vey. 
 
 " Has it been the padded room of a madhouse ? " she 
 asked, with a laugh. " It might have been." 
 
 This was true enough. The first was a lofty room, 
 lighted from a skylight, and the bedroom, which adjoined 
 it, with a strong door between them, was equally lofty, 
 and also lighted from the top. 
 
 Escape from such a place was absolutely hopeless was 
 Dessie's first thought ; and this increased her fears. But 
 she hid them under the laughter of ridicule and indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 " It will make an excellent study," she said, lightly, 
 when her first question remained unanswered. " I sup-
 
 In the Hand of the Enemy 261 
 
 pose, jailer, I can have paper and ink. I'll begin my story 
 at once." 
 
 " You have but to ask and you can have everything you 
 want." 
 
 "Everything? Oh, then, I'll have my liberty, please," 
 she said, in the same light tone. 
 
 " Everything but that," answered Landale. " You are 
 at home, the mistress of the house, and can order what 
 you please." 
 
 " Can I ? Then turn that man out of the room," she 
 cried, pointing at de Montalt, who smiled ; " and never 
 let him enter it again. And do you follow him." 
 
 " You are a plucky girl, Miss Merrion," said the Count, 
 with an air of admiration, " and for once at any rate, you 
 have but to speak to be obeyed. I must go. Can I take 
 any message to my Dora ? " 
 
 He smiled, and bowed to her with mock politeness, 
 and then taking the other man by the arm, went out of 
 the room with him, leaving Dessie in a condition of min- 
 gled relief at his departure, impotent anger at her present 
 plight, and rapidly rising alarm on the score of possible 
 consequences. 
 
 Could her friends find her? If not, what was to hap- 
 pen?
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 FACE TO FACE 
 
 WHILE Dessie was thus plagued by her doubts and 
 fears, matters were moving very fast outside. Mrs. Dave- 
 nant's return had been the signal for some very energetic 
 action on the part of Tom Cheriton. He could not leave 
 his uncle, in consequence of the latter's critical condition, 
 but he set some machinery in motion which could not 
 but have important consequences. 
 
 Mrs. Davenant told him frankly and fully all that she 
 knew about de Montalt, disclosing without reserve the 
 incidents which had culminated in the meeting of her- 
 self and Dessie at Birmingham station. But she added 
 that there was evidently something more behind than 
 Bessie's possession of the rubies, though the girl would 
 say nothing. 
 
 " Are you sure this is the man ? " Cheriton asked. 
 " Quite sure ? " 
 
 " I tell you we spoke together about it when I saw 
 him at that infatuated woman's house, where he played 
 me that trick." 
 
 " And he didn't attempt to deny himself? " 
 
 " Certainly not. How could he? Instead of that, he 
 ran away, leaving me the letter I have given you." 
 
 " Can you guess why he bolted ? " 
 
 " No ; but I should think to get the widow out of our 
 way. He has two objects to make that woman his wife,
 
 Face to Face 263 
 
 and so stop our mouths out of Bessie's regard for her; 
 and secondly to get possession of the rubies to frighten 
 Dessie out of them." 
 
 " I think I see what to do/' said Cheriton, after a 
 pause of thought. " I wish I could get up to town to 
 Dessie. But wishing's no use. I shall wire a hint of the 
 truth to someone who'll move heaven and earth to outwit 
 the Frenchman. That's Vezey, the fellow who was 
 going to marry the widow till the other man turned up. 
 If anyone can ferret the two out, he will." 
 
 With that he despatched a telegram to George Vezey, 
 to his London address, telling him that he had found out 
 the true history about the Count de Montalt, and urging 
 him to wire at once where Mrs. Markham was. 
 
 George Vezey was at Brighton when this telegram was 
 delivered, and it was sent on to him by post. It reached 
 him the next morning, and he replied at once that he had 
 met Mrs. Markham and de Montalt at the station; she 
 was staying at the Grand Hotel, and that, if the facts 
 were wired him, he would see her at once. 
 
 A telegram from Cheriton was the result, saying, " His 
 real name is Rolande Lespard; been tried and convicted 
 
 for murder. Warn Mrs. M " With that telegram 
 
 in his pocket, Vezey went to the Grand Hotel. 
 
 He saw there was much restraint in Mrs. Markham's 
 manner when she greeted him, and she made little secret 
 that she was not pleased to see him. 
 
 " I am very busy to-day, George," she said, " and I 
 can't give you more than a few minutes. I really ought 
 to have been ' not at home ' to you ; but I didn't want to 
 be rude." 
 
 " It's awfully good of you to be so frank," he an- 
 swered with a dry laugh. " But you needn't apologise. I 
 suppose that Count fellow keeps you pretty well to him-
 
 264 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 self. But I've got some bad news for you, I'm sorry to 
 say." 
 
 " You don't look it," she retorted sharply. " But then 
 you're very much changed. You used to be so nice." 
 
 " I'm not the only one that's changed." 
 
 " If you've come to be disagreeable and say nasty 
 things about my friends, and make insinuations, I'd much 
 rather you'd go away and leave them unsaid." 
 
 " My dear Dora, you don't give a fellow a fair chance. 
 I'm awfully sorry if I've got to hurt your feelings but I 
 must tell the truth." 
 
 " Look here, George Vezey," said the little woman, get- 
 ting up and speaking angrily in defense of the man she 
 loved. " If you're thinking of saying anything against 
 the Count de Montalt behind his back which you daren't 
 say to his face, don't come to me. I suppose you've 
 watched him out of the town, and come now because you 
 know I'm alone. It's not very plucky." 
 
 " There's no need to sneer at me like that," said Vezey, 
 warmly. " I haven't invented the bad news, I suppose." 
 Then changing, he said gently, " Look here, Dora, don't 
 say these raspy things. You know how they cut me. I 
 Have come to speak to you about the man who calls him- 
 self the Count de Montalt ; but I didn't know he wasn't 
 here. I'll wait till he comes back, if you like. Only it's 
 something that must be told, and can easily be tested." 
 
 " I don't care when you say it, or what you say 
 either, for that matter," said Mrs. Markham, with as- 
 sumed indifference. " One time is as good as another 
 for a slander; and if you want to say anything, say it, 
 by all means." 
 
 " What do you mean will make no difference. Don't 
 you care who the man is, or what he has done then ? " 
 
 " I care nothing what you may say he has done."
 
 Face to Face 265 
 
 " It's not what I say " 
 
 " No. I suppose it's Mr. Tom Cheriton," cried the 
 widow, impetuously, with a sharp guess. " He would 
 say anything against Godefroi, because he believes he 
 has had something to do with Dessie Merrion having 
 jilted him. If you have no better authority for your 
 slander you needn't expect me to pay any heed to it." 
 
 " It is from Cheriton, and you can do what you like 
 about believing it. He tells me that de Montalt is not 
 only no Count, but is a man who has had a most awful 
 past." 
 
 " Past," exclaimed Mrs. Markham, laughing. " What 
 have I to do with his past ? It is his future he gives me ; 
 not the past. What does your friend say next ? " 
 
 " Dora, you're a fool ; a perfect little fool," burst out 
 Vezey, very angrily. The sight of her feeling for the 
 other man irritated him beyond endurance, while her 
 evident intention to pay no heed to what was told her 
 aggravated the feeling tenfold. 
 
 " You forget yourself, Mr. Vezey," she said, rising 
 again. " You must excuse me, I am very busy." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. It's I am the fool. A confounded 
 fool to care two straws about the matter at all. But I'm 
 not going to see you give yourself to a villain like that 
 and hold my tongue." 
 
 " I will have you shown out of the room if you dare 
 to say another word against the man I am going to marry, 
 in spite of you or all the Merrions and Cheritons on the 
 earth," and she stamped her foot in temper. 
 
 " Read this," he said, holding out the telegram. " I 
 wanted to break the news ; but if you're such an impet- 
 uous little spitfire, you must take the consequences." 
 
 " This is my answer/' she said ; and she tore up the 
 telegram into little pieces. " I won't believe any such
 
 266 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 slander against the man I love. Now, will you go away ? 
 I am expecting him back every minute, and if he finds you 
 here and learns what you have said, I will not answer for 
 the consequences. You are not strong," she added, with 
 a curl of the lip. 
 
 " Thank you ; you have been as ungenerous as a 
 woman could well be to a man whom she has treated as 
 you have me. I have warned you ; I can do no more. I 
 shall now deal with him. I am going to the police." 
 
 a Stop a minute, George. I'm sorry I sneered," she 
 said, laying a detaining hand on his sleeve. " But you 
 don't know what is behind this. I do. You are being 
 made only the tool of a bitter woman, who seeks this 
 revenge for a disappointed intrigue. I know all about 
 this. There is not an atom of truth in it." 
 
 " I think there is," he answered, making ready to go, 
 " and I shall find means to get at the truth within an hour 
 or two. Don't blame me now if there is a public scandal. 
 You leave me and others no choice." 
 
 " What do you want to do ? " Mrs. Markham was all 
 indecision and instability the moment she found herself 
 opposed by a resolute will. It had occurred to her now 
 that if there really was anything against her lover she 
 might unwittingly bring him into trouble by forcing 
 Vezey to go to the police. 
 
 Her companion saw her irresolution, but did not un- 
 derstand it, though he determined to make use of it. 
 
 " All I ask is simple enough," he said. " Have this 
 thing sifted. Let us face the man and see what he him- 
 self says. If we're wrong you can set us all down for a 
 pack of meddlesome dogs ; if we're right, then you will 
 be saved from heaven only knows what sort of a future. 
 Let us go back to London, and have the Count, as he 
 calls himself, face to face with us."
 
 Face to Face 267 
 
 " To do that would be to insult him with the idea that 
 I believe this hideous story," she cried, irresolutely. 
 
 " Not to do it will be to put the police on his track 
 perhaps," answered Vezey, bluntly. " You can choose." 
 
 " I hate you ! " she flashed out, impulsively. 
 
 " You won't when the fever's over," he answered, 
 laconically ; and he stuck to his point doggedly until Mrs. 
 Markham was obliged to yield, and had to consent to 
 return to town. It had been arranged that in the event 
 of her wishing to communicate with de Montalt, she was 
 to wire to the hotel in London where he had been staying, 
 and a telegram was now sent off to tell him what had 
 happened. 
 
 As soon as that had been done, Vezey sent a telegram 
 to Cheriton, telling him the result of the interview, and 
 urging him to come up to London so as to be present at 
 the interview with the Frenchman, and thus be ready 
 with proofs to checkmate him at once. 
 
 The telegram reached the Count de Montalt at a mo- 
 ment when he was in considerable perplexity. Every- 
 thing promised well for the desperate coup he had 
 planned ; but his doubts arose in the following way. He 
 had satisfied himself that Dessie still had the jewels with 
 her, and he knew that she would be unable either to get 
 out of the house at St. John's Wood with them, or to hide 
 them there in any place where he would not be able to 
 find them. He knew, too, that there was not the remotest 
 chance of her agreeing to Sir Edmund Landale's terms. 
 She would starve sooner. And he felt that he had her 
 thus safely in his power. 
 
 But he felt that he ought to make assurance doubly 
 sure, and after getting rid of the baronet in some way 
 force the jewels out of Dessie at once by threats or prom- 
 ises. His rough plan was to make the giving up of the
 
 268 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 rubies the price of Bessie's liberty ; and he did not doubt 
 for a moment that she would pay it. 
 
 To do that would take time, however, and he had al- 
 ready been so long away from Mrs. Markham that lie 
 feared to cause her uneasiness or suspicion a most unde- 
 sirable thing at such a moment of crisis. But there was 
 another and much more serious obstacle. Sir "Edmund 
 Landale, having got Dessie into his house, was not at all 
 disposed to trust the charge of her to anyone else. He 
 would not be persuaded to leave the place at all; and 
 thus de Montalt decided to leave the getting of the jewels 
 to another time. 
 
 He went straight to his hotel, and found there the tele- 
 gram from Brighton announcing Mrs. Markham's return, 
 telling him that strange charges had been made, and ask- 
 ing him to go to Edgcumbe Square. 
 
 Instinctively he scented danger, and as quickly pre- 
 pared himself to face it. A glance at his watch and at 
 the time when the telegram was despatched showed him 
 that he might yet be able to intercept Mrs. Markham at 
 the station ; and a couple of minutes later he was being 
 driven swiftly to Victoria. 
 
 He must meet her alone if possible, as it was then that 
 his influence could be best exerted. He attributed the 
 present change to George Vezey; but he was confident 
 that he could overcome any doubts which the latter 
 might raise in the widow's mind. 
 
 At the station he was beaten. A train was almost due 
 when he arrived, and he waited for it. But there were 
 no signs of either Mrs. Markham or Vezey ; and his ill- 
 luck angered him. It was the train she was almost sure 
 to have caught, and it was clear that she must have trav- 
 elled by another route. He set this down to Vezey 's in- 
 terference also, and cursed him for it, There was noth*
 
 Face to Face 269 
 
 ing left therefore, but to go with all speed to Edgcumbe 
 Square and wait there for her. 
 
 He bit his moustache in ill temper as he drove away. 
 Nothing annoyed him more than to make a miscalculation 
 of the kind ; and his superstition made him look on it as 
 a bad omen. 
 
 At Edgcumbe Square he found that the servants were 
 expecting their mistress, but she had not arrived. There 
 was a telegram telling them to make preparations; but 
 that was all. He said he would wait, and went into the 
 library to smoke a cigar and think. 
 
 What could have happened? He did not like the look 
 of things at all; and the minutes of his waiting seemed 
 to pass on leaden wings. He detested inaction, and noth- 
 ing wrung him like suspense. He chafed now like a 
 caged animal. 
 
 After he had waited in this impatient fume for nearly 
 an hour the bell was rung loudly enough to attract his 
 attention. He thought it was Mrs. Markham, but as no 
 one came to tell him of her arrival he rang and asked 
 the servant who it was. 
 
 The answer startled him more than enough. 
 
 " Mr. Cheriton and a lady, sir ; " and the man had 
 scarcely ended his reply before Mrs. Markham and 
 George Vezey arrived, the former very cross, and 
 troubled, and bitter. Her anger was increased when she 
 heard that Tom Cheriton was waiting; but Vezey was 
 infinitely pleased. 
 
 The widow went straight to the Count, Vezey close 
 at her heels. When de Montalt saw her he rose, and 
 with an expression that implied the strongest reproach, 
 asked : 
 
 " Why have you done this ? " Then he took her hands 
 and held them.
 
 270 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " I can answer that best," said Vezey, interposing. 
 " It's my doing. I went to Mrs. Markham after you had 
 left Brighton, and told her I had heard certain things 
 against you, and that she had better come back here and 
 have it out face to face. At first she wouldn't, and only 
 gave in when I said that if she didn't I'd go straight to 
 the police and see what they had to say. She caved 
 in then; not because she believes me, but to avoid a 
 row." 
 
 " It's very good of you to interfere," said de Montalt, 
 with angry sarcasm changing into a threatening tone, 
 
 " but I should like to know what the you mean by 
 
 it." 
 
 " I clidn't believe a word of what was said, Godefroi, 
 but you were not there and I didn't know what to do," 
 wailed Mrs. Markham, shrinking from the wrath she saw 
 on his face. 
 
 a I'll tell you quite plainly what I mean by it," said 
 Vezey. " I am told your real name is Lespard, and not 
 de Montalt; that you are no more a Count than I am; 
 and that not so many years ago you were tried for your 
 life and convicted. Is that true?" 
 
 " Is this what has brought you up trembling and 
 frightened all the way from Brighton, Dora? I am sur- 
 prised." He spoke very gently, with an infinitely clever 
 assumption of absolute indifference to the charge and a 
 suggestion that what disturbed him was not the charge 
 against himself, but the fact that she should have been 
 troubled by hearing it. " Of course you didn't believe 
 it; I know that. Never mind." Then he put his arm 
 round her, as if to reassure her, and turned with an as- 
 sumption of great dignity to George Vezey. " The im- 
 pudent tale that you now venture to tell is quite beneath 
 my notice. Mrs. Markham knows perfectly well where
 
 Face to Face 271 
 
 to look for the source of it. You would have acted a 
 more manly part had you come in the first instance to me, 
 instead of trying to frighten a woman." 
 
 His assurance and manner produced a great effect on 
 Vezey, and more than half persuaded him of the ground- 
 lessness of the charge. 
 
 " It is ngt my tale," he said, after a pause. " It is Mr. 
 Cheriton's ; and as he is here in the house he had better 
 come in. I'll fetch him." 
 
 With that he left the room, and the moment he was 
 gone de Montalt threw his arms round the woman who 
 was clinging so trustingly and lovingly to him and kissed 
 her passionately. 
 
 " You believe in me, sweetheart ? " he asked, looking 
 into her eyes. 
 
 " Nothing on earth shall ever shake my faith. I care 
 nothing if only you love me," she murmured with passion 
 equal to his own. Then he stood with her hand in his, 
 as calmly as though not a word had been whispered 
 against him. 
 
 Tom Cheriton, Mrs. Davenant and Vezey came in 
 together. 
 
 " I am sorry to be here on such an errand, Mrs. Mark- 
 ham," said Cheriton. " I am afraid it must pain you to 
 hear what we have to say." 
 
 " If it is anything against the Count de Montalt, Mr, 
 Cheriton, you will find me an unwilling listener," said 
 Mrs. Markham, stoutly. 
 
 " It is nothing against the Count de Montalt," said 
 Cheriton, emphasising the name. " It is against Ro- 
 lande Lespard, the man whose hand you are holding, and 
 who has imposed himself upon you. He is Rolande Les- 
 pard, and five years ago was tried and convicted of the 
 murder of his uncle, old Paul Duvivier."
 
 272 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 " What proof have you of this monstrous story ? " 
 asked the widow. 
 
 " I can prove it," said Mrs. Davenant. " I was present 
 when he was arrested, and when I was " 
 
 " What were you doing when you were as you say 
 present?" Mrs. Markham suggested by her manner of 
 asking this question that she knew the answer, and her 
 lip curled. 
 
 " It is not a pleasant story, but I am prepared to tell it 
 in such a case as this," answered Mrs. Davenant, quietly. 
 
 " I do not want to hear it, thank you. I know enough 
 of the facts to more than satisfy me of your motive in 
 coming here to try and make mischief. I must ask you, 
 Mr. Cheriton, to be good enough to take the lady away." 
 
 " I shall do nothing of the kind until you know the 
 facts," he said. 
 
 " Then I shall call my servants to my assistance," an- 
 swered Mrs. Markham, angrily. 
 
 There was a pause of much awkwardness, and before 
 anyone broke the silence a servant knocked and entered. 
 
 " A lady wishes to see you, mum," began the man, 
 when the door was thrust open wide and Daphne Mar- 
 low, in her nurse's uniform, came in quickly. 
 
 " I will speak for myself," she said brusquely to the 
 servant, and while he left the room all the rest looked at 
 her with profound astonishment.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 DAPHNE'S STORY 
 
 No one was so keenly moved by the entrance of 
 Daphne Marlow as the Count de Montalt. But he did 
 not allow himself to be surprised, since he had foreseen 
 that the sisters would be sure to attempt some communi- 
 cation with Mrs. Markham to stop the marriage, and it 
 was likely enough that as Dessie had not returned, the 
 first place her sister would look for her would be at Mrs. 
 Markham's. But her arrival was none the less unwel- 
 come because it was probable. He had to choose his 
 course rapidly, and as he had all the facts which were 
 necessary to enable him to judge what must now almost 
 inevitably happen, he had formed his resolve almost as 
 soon as Daphne had entered the room. 
 
 " I have come in search of Dessie Merrion," she said, 
 in her firm, melodious voice. " I must ask you to pardon 
 my coming in unannounced, madam, but the matter is so 
 urgent and so unusual that I could not wait." 
 
 " Miss Merrion is not here. What do you mean ? " 
 asked Mrs. Markham, who took the interruption in very 
 bad part. She had released her hold of the Count's hand 
 and came forward to speak to the new comer. 
 
 " I learn that she has not been here, either," said 
 
 Daphne ; " and it is because of that and because this 
 
 gentleman was here that I came in as I did." She hesi- 
 tated over the term, and after glancing quickly and 
 shrewdly at the other three people who were in the room, 
 
 273
 
 274 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 she added : " I have much to say that concerns him, and 
 perhaps we had better be in private." 
 
 Tom Cheriton took in the situation instantly. 
 
 " You can speak before us freely. My name is Cheri- 
 ton ; Miss Merrion is my affianced wife ; Mrs. Davenant 
 and Mr. Vezey are here on much the same errand as 
 yours. We have just told Mrs. Markham that that man 
 is not what he says, the Count de Montalt, but Rolande 
 Lespard, a convicted felon. If you can give additional 
 proof, do so at once." 
 
 Daphne looked across at de Montalt fixedly during a 
 long pause ; and he returned her look with equal steadi- 
 ness. 
 
 " He will not deny himself to me," she said, quietly, 
 " and if he does, it will be useless. He knows that. It 
 is not more than a few hours since we met in Bessie's 
 rooms, and he knew that I had resolved to r,un the risk 
 of exposing him." 
 
 " Godefroi ! " The cry came like an appeal in pain, 
 and Mrs. Markham looked from one to the other in the 
 deepest agitation. The statement that he had been in 
 Dessie's rooms moved her more than all the charges. 
 
 " You vowed you would trust me," he answered. " I 
 swear to you there is some horrible mistake. All these 
 people are mistaking me for some other man. Don't you 
 believe me?" He went to her side and took her hand, 
 pressing it feverishly. 
 
 " Yes, I believe you," answered the woman, yielding at 
 his touch. 
 
 " Then let us clear the house of these slanderers, whose 
 sole object is to malign me for their advantage, and so to 
 try and part us." 
 
 He made as if to lead Mrs. Markham out of the room, 
 but Daphne quietly stepped in front of the door.
 
 Daphne's Story 275 
 
 n No," she cried, in a voice that rang vith decision. 
 " You know me better than that. I have not come here 
 to be baulked in this manner. If you attempt to play 
 false with me now I will put you straight into the hands 
 of the police you know for what crime." 
 
 " Stand out of the way," he cried angrily, " or I'll 
 force you." 
 
 " No, no," said Cheriton, going quickly across to 
 Daphne's side. " There can be no talk of force here. 
 You are not alone with women. Mrs. Markham, you 
 must see that there i-s much more here than either you 
 or I can understand as yet." 
 
 " If I cannot leave a room in my own house when I 
 please, Mr. Cheriton, what am I to think ? " said the 
 widow, now very angry. 
 
 " You cannot," said Daphne ; and in another in- 
 stant she had locked the door and handed the key to 
 Cheriton. "Keep it, Mr. Cheriton, while what has to be 
 said is said in this room. If this lady insists upon the 
 door being broken open, send for the police and the 
 first constable that comes will take out that man as his 
 prisoner." 
 
 The Frenchman threw up his hands with his familiar 
 gesture of indifference, while he mentally cursed himself 
 for not having secured the key of the room. 
 
 " My dear Dora, you really ought to take better meas- 
 ures to keep the house free from lunatics," he said lightly 
 and with a sneer. " But if this particular lunatic wishes 
 to tell us a story and locks us all in to make sure of an 
 audience I've no special objection. It's always best to 
 humour this sort of madness I've heard. Come, child, 
 sit by me and let us be amused together. Now, what is 
 it you wish to say? Please say it and take the collection 
 quickly, and then go home again."
 
 76 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 The ineffable impudence of his manner was indescrib* 
 ably galling but it had no effect upon Daphne. 
 
 " I am prepared to tell the whole story, if you are pre- 
 pared to listen," she said quietly. 
 
 " I cannot understand you at all," cried Mrs. Markham, 
 in dismay and perplexity. 
 
 " That man and I are old associates, Mrs. Markham. 
 In years gone by I lived a life all wildness and wrong, 
 and he was my companion and backer." 
 
 " I care nothing about what happened years ago." 
 said the widow, holding fast by her love and faith. 
 
 " It climaxed in a deed that made all England ring with 
 sensational horror a deed of blood. I was held guilty 
 of it, and he committed it. Knowing that I should have 
 the greatest difficulty in proving my innocence I fled, 
 and from that moment changed my life. I became what 
 you see by my uniform I am a nurse, Nurse Morland. 
 He hid as well, and took with him some of the ill-gotten 
 proceeds of that crime; he forced them from me by 
 threats. The chief of them were three rubies of priceless 
 value the Rubies of Rohilkund. For these a large re- 
 ward was offered, and I know that he carried them about 
 with him for some time, afraid or unwilling to get rid 
 of them. During the time he was thus hiding he went 
 to the home of an uncle, Paul Duvivier, in the Southwest 
 of France, and from motives of greed murdered the old 
 man in his sleep. He was suspected, but for the time 
 escaped and returned to England." 
 
 " All this is nothing to me. I don't believe it," said 
 Mrs. Markham, impetuously. " I believe you are all 
 actuated by wrong motives against him. I won't believe 
 it." 
 
 " It is all capable of proof in ten minutes' time," was 
 the deliberate answer. " In England, though under what
 
 Daphne's Sto^y 277 
 
 circumstances I do not know, he was mixed up with some 
 one in the Midlands ; and he was one day at Birmingham 
 station in the company of some woman, when he was 
 arrested on an extradition warrant for the murder of his 
 uncle, tried, convicted, and sentenced." 
 
 " I don't believe it. What is it to me ? " persisted the 
 widow, determined not to credit a word of the tale. " I 
 have heard of it already once to-day." 
 
 " If you will be patient a moment even you will see 
 the truth. When that arrest took place, Dessie Mer- 
 rion " 
 
 " Who ? " ejaculated the Count with a sneer. 
 
 " For the present, Dessie Merrion. You will under- 
 stand the meaning of that sneer in a moment. By itself 
 it is a proof that he knows full well the truth of every 
 word I utter. Dessie was on the platform, saw the arrest, 
 warned the man's companion of what had taken place, 
 and induced her to fly. In the excitement the two 
 women exchanged handbags, and when Dessie looked 
 into hers, she found the Rohilkund rubies cunningly hid- 
 den. She did not know what to do with them, and 
 eventually locked them up in a safe with the Deposit 
 Company here in London. They have been a burden to 
 her ever since." 
 
 " Why did she not give them over to the police ? " asked 
 Cheriton, who had listened to this part of the story with 
 breathless interest. 
 
 " For two reasons. Her own bag was returned to her 
 and with it a letter saying she was to destroy everything 
 in the one which she had taken in mistake, except such 
 things as she would see the writer would wish to have 
 again, if ever she dared to claim them. But the second 
 was the main reason. She was flying from an old life 
 of evil associations and surroundings and trying to make
 
 278 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 a new start in a new name ; and she felt that if she had to 
 stand the fire of any inquiries, the whole opportunity of 
 the new chance would be shut. She preferred silence 
 and, I say, preferred it wisely." 
 
 " How do you mean a life of evil surroundings ? I 
 have never heard a word of this," said Tom Cheriton. 
 
 " Prudence again, I suppose," ejaculated the Count, 
 with a sneer. 
 
 " Probably she put off the telling for the same reason 
 we all put off the doing of unpleasant things and she 
 put it off until too late. But let me go on. She put these 
 jewels away, expecting never to hear any more of the 
 matter, and certainly never to see the man again. But 
 she was wrong. You know what her life has been for 
 the last four or five years, Mrs. Markham, for you were 
 her chief friend. You can judge then of her horror when, 
 in the man whom you were to marry, she recognised the 
 Rolande Lespard who had been convicted of the cruel 
 murder of his uncle." 
 
 " She said nothing to me," said Mrs. Markham. 
 
 " For years the mere thought of the man had been 
 a terror to her, and for the moment she was at a loss what 
 to do. Then she resolved to tell Mr. Cheriton the next 
 morning. But before she left here, you will remember, 
 she had a long interview with the man himself. She told 
 him pluckily that she recognised him, and warned him not 
 to come here again. After that she went to find you, 
 Mr. Cheriton ; but you had been called away, and she was 
 thus left alone to fight this man single-handed; and it 
 is no surprise that he beat her." 
 
 " Beat her? How could he do that if this extraordi- 
 nary tale be true?" exclaimed Mrs. Markham, with in- 
 dignant disbelief. 
 
 "For reasons that do credit to that villain's skill,"
 
 Daphne's Story 279 
 
 cried Daphne, for the first time showing signs of her 
 indignation. " He first attempted to poison her in this 
 very house. Do you remember a cup of tea being spilt 
 and broken ? That was poisoned, and we have the proof 
 in the analysis. Then he searched her room here that 
 night, to try and regain possession of the poisoned tea. 
 He failed Mr. Vezey here can tell you something of 
 that but he found a clue to the fact that she was in 
 reality the possessor of the jewels, the woman he had 
 been searching for, and then, jumping to the conclusion 
 that there was some secret in her life, he got into her 
 rooms, ransacked her papers, and found there enough 
 to show him her identity. His own knowledge and some 
 other help from a congenial scoundrel, Sir Edmund Lan- 
 dale, led him to know the secret sorrow and fear of her 
 life, so that he could hold his knowledge over her, and not 
 only threaten her with exposure if she exposed him, but 
 also put me in the dock on the charge of murder." 
 
 "And you? Who are you?" asked Mrs. Markham, 
 sharply. 
 
 " I am her sister. It was to protect me from the fate 
 which this man threatened that she consented to give up 
 you and bear all the weight of this secret. A nobler or 
 purer girl does not breathe than my sister Dorothy. Her 
 name is Dorothy, and, like mine, Marlow. We are the 
 daughters of a father who was convicted of forgery, and 
 the sisters of a brother who was tempted by his own 
 father into crime. That was the life she was flying from. 
 She would tell you nothing, Mr. Cheriton, when you 
 questioned her the other day, because, in her opinion, it 
 was too late. When she was engaged to you, and, indeed, 
 until she came to me, three days ago in the North, she 
 knew nothing of the deed the exposure of which this man 
 was able to hold over her as a threat should she expose
 
 280 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 him. She would never have told you, but have gone on 
 bearing the load in silence, had I not come up and said 
 I would tell the truth at any cost." 
 
 " Poor Dessie ! What she must have suffered ! " ex- 
 claimed Cheriton. " Where is she now ? Why not 
 here?" 
 
 " She left her rooms to come here some hours ago, 
 soon after this man had been there, and she was to come 
 back the moment she had seen Mrs. Markham. She did 
 not return, so I came after her; and now I learn she has 
 not been here at all. I know well enough where to put 
 the blame for devilry of this kind ; and when I heard that 
 man was here, I resolved to come and ask him where she 
 is." 
 
 " You might as well ask me where last night's moon 
 is," exclaimed de Montalt, with a short laugh. " I have 
 had enough of this rigmarole and am tired of it. I 
 don't know where this young woman without a name is, 
 and don't want to know. Moreover, if I did know, I cer- 
 tainly should not utter a word to help you. Now, Dora," 
 he added, in a sharper voice, " What are we to do next ? 
 Are you as tired of this cage as I am ? I may say at once 
 that so far as this story goes, I shall take only one course. 
 It is true that Miss Merrion or Miss Marlow, or who- 
 ever she is did make this very preposterous accusa- 
 tion against me. I held it back from you because I did 
 not want you to be worried with fables of that ridiculous 
 character. But I did then what I will do now. I will leave 
 it to Mr. Cheriton, who is an English lawyer, to decide 
 what proofs he wishes to have that there has been noth- 
 ing but a hideous mistake in regard to me. I shall have 
 no difficulty whatever in explaining the nature of this ex- 
 traordinary resemblance." 
 
 " Resemblance ! " exclaimed Mrs. Davenant, speaking
 
 Daphne's Story 281 
 
 now for the first time. " Why, when I was here yester- 
 day you did not attempt to deny your identity." 
 
 " Nevertheless, the fact is as I say," he returned, quite 
 unmoved. " I can explain the whole matter to Mr. 
 Cheriton's complete satisfaction, and am ready to do so." 
 
 " No time like the present," said Tom Cheriton. " Do 
 it before we leave the room." 
 
 " I must get to my papers. They are at my hotel. You 
 can come with me; and if you give me your word that 
 I shall never be offended by seeing you again, you need 
 not take your eyes off me until I have convinced you." 
 
 " I can trust myself so far," said Tom ; and he opened 
 the door. 
 
 " In less than an hour I shall be back, Dora," said de 
 Montalt to Mrs. Markham. "And then at last we shall 
 be freed from this canaille." He growled the word from 
 between his teeth. 
 
 " Mr. Cheriton, you will need all your wits. He is 
 never more treacherous than when complying," said 
 Daphne, warningly. " You had better have the police." 
 
 " You shall have them when I return," said de Montalt. 
 
 A cab was fetched and the two men left together, de 
 Montalt with a profusion of regrets for tearing himself 
 away from Mrs. Markham for even an hour ; and his last 
 word was a pledge of honour to be back within the hour. 
 But he had already made up his mind that he could never 
 set his foot inside the house again. He knew when he 
 was beaten; and he knew now that so far as marrying 
 Mrs. Markham was concerned the chance was utterly lost. 
 
 He ceased to strive, therefore, and chose the one re- 
 maining course that was open to him. 
 
 He intended to shake off Cheriton and make a dash 
 for St. John's Wood, get the rubies from Dessie, and then 
 laugh at those who had found him out.
 
 282 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 It was quite dusk as the cab rattled along the Bromp- 
 ton Road, and the two men sat side by side in stolid si- 
 lence; de Montalt thinking quickly as to the best means 
 of getting rid of his companion. 
 
 Fortune favored him. When the cab reached Hyde 
 Park Corner there was a block and a crowd caused by a 
 street accident. The cab stopped, and Cheriton, in his 
 eagerness to see what had happened, rose from his seat 
 and holding by the rail of the splash board, stood up to 
 look out. 
 
 Watching his opportunity, de Montalt grabbed the 
 reins as they hung in the front, pulled them with a violent 
 jerk on the horse's mouth, and so caused the animal to 
 start back suddenly. At the same instant he put all his 
 strength into one vigorous thrust, and pushed his com- 
 panion off the cab into the road, where he staggered and 
 nearly fell. He recovered himself in a moment or two. 
 But it was too late. 
 
 The cab was empty. De Montalt had sprung out on 
 the other side, and dashing in among the people, was lost 
 sight of directly among the surging, heaving crowd.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 WITH INTENT TO MURDER 
 
 THE elation which de Montalt felt at having so easily 
 shaken off the inconvenient companionship of Tom Cheri- 
 ton soon gave way to a fit of intense passion at the failure 
 of his plans. 
 
 Despite his practised and habitual self-restraint, his 
 ill-temper completely mastered him, and as the thought 
 grew upon him that the chief cause of all was the girl 
 who had first bearded him, his rage concentrated itself 
 upon her. If it had not been for Dessie, nothing could 
 have robbed him of success, no one would have had a 
 suspicion of his real identity, and nothing could have 
 stepped in between him and his purpose. 
 
 Gradually the feeling prompted a desire of revenge 
 upon her, and he began to think how best to shape his 
 plans so as to take that revenge completely and safely. 
 
 In her present position he ought to have no difficulty in 
 getting her absolutely at his mercy. She was in Lan dale's 
 house, alone, unprotected, and absolutely defenceless. 
 Not a soul, save himself, Landale, and the confidential 
 blackguard of a servant, knew of her presence there, and 
 if anything was to happen to the girl if she were to die 
 suddenly, for mstance the trouble would be much more 
 likely to fall on the baronet than on him. And that sort 
 of shield for his own crimes had always had an attraction 
 for him. 
 
 There was one difficulty. He had tried to get Sir Ed-
 
 284 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 mund out of the house before, and had failed. If he 
 could think of a ruse to effect that, the rest would be easy. 
 But if not, the man must take his chance of what hap- 
 pened. 
 
 He turned this problem over and over in his thoughts, 
 and at last resolved to send a telegram saying that he him- 
 self had met with a very serious accident, and had made a 
 most important discovery, which must be disclosed to Sir 
 Edmund at once, if he would come to the hotel. 
 
 He thought round this very shrewdly, and mentally 
 approved the plan. He would send off the telegram, fol- 
 low in person as quickly as possible, and thus watch the 
 baronet out of the house. If the bait was taken the coast 
 would be clear for at least an hour, and in that time he 
 could do everything. 
 
 But before despatching the telegram he had to do two 
 things to prepare for what might happen if he succeeded 
 in luring the baronet away, and a much more critical mat- 
 ter, to prepare for what he might have to do if the ruse 
 failed. He was not a man to stick at half measures. He 
 meant to get the rubies into his possession by fair means 
 or foul, and also to vent upon Dessie his rage at the fail- 
 ure of his plans. 
 
 In one shop he bought a revolver and a handful of car- 
 tridges, and in another a long, ugly-looking knife. It 
 might be dangerous to use firearms, he thought. 
 
 As soon as he had completed the purchases, he jumped 
 into a cab, and was driven to the post-office nearest to 
 his hotel, and from there he sent off the decoy telegram. 
 
 He took this trouble so that there might be no loophole 
 for the other man's suspicions to creep in ; and as soon as 
 he had handed the form to the clerk, he got into his cab 
 again, and told the man to drive with all possible speed 
 to St. John's Wood.
 
 With Intent to Murder 285 
 
 When he reached the place he chose a spot from which 
 he could watch the gateway of Landale's house, and note 
 the effect of his message. 
 
 His cabman had beaten the telegraph office. He had 
 been some minutes at his post of vigilance before he saw 
 a lad in uniform come lounging up the road and as he 
 neared the house, begin to fumble in his wallet for the 
 message, and search for the name and number of the 
 house. 
 
 He watched him deliver it, and saw him come out 
 again, and go back the way he had come, swinging his 
 arms and whistling loudly. 
 
 Ten minutes later, to his intense pleasure, de Montalt 
 saw the bait had been swallowed. The baronet himself 
 came out of the gate, looked up and down the road as if 
 for a cab, and then turned and walked at a brisk pace in 
 the direction of the town. 
 
 As soon as he was out of sight, de Montalt slipped from 
 his hiding place, crossed the road rapidly, walked up the 
 drive to the front door, and rang the bell. He waited im- 
 patiently for the door to be opened. He was eager to get 
 to work. He had much to do, and only a little time to do 
 it in. An hour at the utmost would bring Landale 
 floundering back, with the knowledge that he had been 
 fooled; and probably with more knowledge than that if 
 Cheriton went on to the hotel, as was exceedingly prob- 
 able. 
 
 When no one answered his ring his impatience grew 
 rapidly, and he pealed the bell twice very vigorously. 
 He could hear it clanging in the lower part of the house, 
 but still no one came to open the door, and then he began 
 to guess the truth. 
 
 Landale had sent even his servant away; and Dessie 
 was absolutely alone in the house. His heart beat with 1
 
 286 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 exhilaration at the thought; and a minute later he re- 
 solved to break into the house. 
 
 He went to the back of the house to find a weak spot 
 by which to get in. All the windows were fastened ; but 
 he was too old a hand to be stopped by a check of that 
 kind. Selecting one of the smallest, he passed the thin 
 long blade of the knife between the sashes, and with a 
 dexterous movement unfastened the catch and opened the 
 window. Thus, in less than a couple of minutes he was 
 inside the house, and having fastened the window again 
 was feeling his way through the gloomy passages and 
 kitchens to the staircase. 
 
 He crept up very silently, looking on all sides warily 
 to satisfy himself that no one was about, and when he 
 reached the hall he stepped quickly to the front door and 
 shot the bolt, a smile of sardonic satisfaction passing over 
 his face. 
 
 " Those who are out can stop out," he muttered ; and 
 then as soon as he had made a rapid survey of the rooms 
 on that floor he mounted the stairs quickly to the room 
 where Dessie was shut in. Before attempting to enter 
 that, however, he went into every room in the upper por- 
 tion of the house to make sure the place was quite empty. 
 
 Everything was as still as he himself could have wished 
 it, and it was with an assurance of success that he turned 
 towards the door of Bessie's room. 
 
 But at that point he met with a check. The key was 
 not in the door, and in the rapid search he made, he could 
 see no trace of it. Time was valuable, and he cursed 
 this piece of ill luck as likely to cause some delay. He 
 first tried suasion, and knocked at the door. No answer 
 came until he had repeated the knock more than once, his 
 impatience showing in the increasing force with which he 
 rapped.
 
 With Intent to Murder 287 
 
 rt Who is it and what do you want ? " 
 
 " It is I, the Count de Montalt. I have come to set 
 you at liberty." 
 
 " Thank you, I'd rather stay where I am, with the door 
 between us, than come out to you." 
 
 " I have come expressly to set you free." 
 
 " I don't want freedom at your hands." 
 
 " Open the door." 
 
 " Not on any consideration." 
 
 "You had better." 
 
 " Your threats are all one with your wishes. And be 
 careful, I have arms ; and if you dare to try force, I shall 
 use them." 
 
 De Montalt made no reply. It was no use wasting 
 time in talk. There was nothing for him to do but 
 to break the door in, and this was no easy matter. He 
 was a man of great strength, but though he pressed 
 against it with all his force, it withstood him, however 
 much he strained. In those efforts several valuable min- 
 utes were lost. 
 
 He ran downstairs then, to rummage for some tool to 
 force the door or some wire to pick the lock ; and his ex- 
 citement now began to increase, as he thought of the time 
 lost. 
 
 The hunt in the lower part of the house cost him several 
 more minutes, until at last he found an old tool chest. 
 A long iron chisel was among the contents, and with an 
 exclamation of satisfaction, he seized it, and ran upstairs 
 again. 
 
 Very little work sufficed then to force the door, and as 
 he saw it yield to his efforts, he breathed hard with 
 pleasure. 
 
 But the room was empty. 
 
 " Miss Merrion, Miss Merrion," he called.
 
 288 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 There was no response, and the place was in complete 
 darkness. He called again, and then listened intently. 
 
 No one answered; but he heard the sound of someone 
 moving in the next room, and then he remembered, what 
 for the instant had slipped out of his thoughts, that there 
 was an inner room. The girl was no doubt there. 
 
 He struck a light for a moment to see the position of 
 the door, and then went and rapped smartly on it. 
 
 " What do you want ? " came Bessie's voice through 
 the door. 
 
 " I want to speak to you." 
 
 " Then speak," she answered. " There is no one else 
 here." 
 
 " Come out ; I have news for you. I tell you I have 
 come to set you at liberty." 
 
 " I repeat, I prefer to stay where I am. Why are 
 you alone ? " 
 
 " Sir Edmund Landale has had to go away." 
 
 " You are not speaking the truth ; and I know now 
 that you are here for some black purpose of your own. 
 He told me before he left, not half an hour ago, that he 
 was going out. But you evidently know nothing of what 
 has passed since you left the house. The door you broke 
 in was locked on the inside. He himself gave me the key, 
 as a proof that he will not harm me. He has given me 
 also a revolver to shoot him if he tries to molest me. So I 
 know you are lying, and if you dare to come near me you 
 must take the consequences. I'll open the door as soon 
 as I hear Sir Edmund Landale's voice, and not before." 
 
 De Montalt's reply was an oath breathed into his mous- 
 tache, and a vigorous attack upon the second door. 
 
 It was soon half open, and then he began to show cau- 
 tion.
 
 With Intent to Murder 289 
 
 It was no part of his plan to give the girl a chance of 
 shooting him, though he was not much afraid of her skill. 
 
 " I can open the door at any moment, now," he said, 
 and he put all the menace into his voice that he could. 
 "And I'm in no mood to be trifled with. But I'm in a 
 hurry. Hand out those rubies and I'll let you off." 
 
 " I haven't them," said Dessie. 
 
 " I don't believe you. They were on you when you 
 came here, I know that. Will you give them up ? " 
 
 ft I have given them to Sir Edmund Landale ; and if 
 you can get them from him, you may have them and 
 welcome. I told him how I got them, because I meant 
 him to understand your reasons for trapping me here 
 and deceiving him." 
 
 At that moment the bell of the front door was rung 
 very furiously, and the clanging of it travelled up from 
 below. 
 
 De Montalt started at the sound and rolled out an oath. 
 
 It was probably the owner of the house who had re- 
 turned, to find the door barred against him. 
 
 Obviously what had to be done must be done at once. 
 
 One violent wrench with his weapon completed the 
 work on the door, and it was open ; but Dessie had piled 
 every article of furniture that she could drag or lift, 
 to strengthen the defences, and when the Frenchman per- 
 ceived this, his rage passed all bounds. He broke out into 
 a loud volley of threats and oaths, jerking them out as he 
 strained and struggled to force his way into the room. 
 
 " You can do no good if you get in," cried the girl, 
 excitedly. " I tell you I gave the stones to Sir Edmund 
 Landale, and he has them now." 
 
 " I can deal with you, at any rate," muttered the in- 
 furiated man in reply, as with a most vigorous effort he
 
 290 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 forced the door open, and sent the heap of things piled 
 against it rattling and clattering to the ground with a 
 great noise. 
 
 Then he sprang into the room, but the next moment 
 he was again checkmated, for Dessie put out the light, 
 and then ran swiftly and silently to a spot in the room 
 which she had previously selected for a hiding-place. 
 
 This manoeuvre baffled him absolutely for the moment. 
 The room was as dark as a tomb. He did not know a 
 foot space about him ; and if he attempted to strike a light 
 to look for the girl or the jewels he would immediately 
 be a plain mark for her revolver. 
 
 He was now so enraged at this trick, and by the way in 
 which Dessie continued to keep out of his grasp, that his 
 usual calmness deserted him, and the mad desire to vent 
 his anger upon her made it difficult for him to think con- 
 nectedly. 
 
 He stood a minute quite still, gnawing the ends of his 
 moustache and biting his lips in perplexity. Then, loos- 
 ening his knife in its sheath ; he dropped upon his hands 
 and knees and began a systematic search of the room, 
 moving with the care and caution of an Indian scout, and 
 making as little noise as possible. 
 
 He had explored half the room in this grim search 
 when a noise at the other end of the room by the door 
 made him jump to his feet and rush in that direction, 
 in the belief the girl was trying to escape and had knocked 
 over something in her flight. 
 
 But he could not find her, and when he stood to listen 
 with every nerve strained, the room was as still as a 
 death chamber. 
 
 Then he guessed he had been tricked, and that Dessie 
 had purposely made the noise, probably throwing some- 
 thing across the room, to distract his attention.
 
 The flash of a revolver almost blinded him. 
 
 Page 297.
 
 With Intent to Murder 291 
 
 With another curse at her cleverness he began his 
 search again, vowing under his breath that if he found 
 her and find her he would she should pay with her life 
 for all this. 
 
 Inch by inch he crept across the floor, the deadly intent 
 growing stronger in his thoughts with every moment that 
 passed, and at every step he took he stopped to listen, 
 and to stretch out his hands on all sides of him. 
 
 When they touched anything he felt it carefully, and 
 did not let go until he had thoroughly satisfied himself 
 that it was no part of the girl's clothing and no place 
 where she could possibly hide. Now and again he would 
 stop and listen with the utmost acuteness to catch a sound 
 of her breathing. 
 
 It was a scheme sure to succeed in the end, and pres- 
 ently the hands, gliding out slowly on all sides of him, 
 touched something which moved. 
 
 It was Bessie's foot ; and instantly his grasp tightened 
 on it, while he uttered an exclamation of devilish pleas- 
 ure at his success. 
 
 But as suddenly he let go, for the flash of a revolver 
 almost blinded him, and a succession of the girl's piercing 
 screams for help rang through the still house.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A GRIP OF DEATH 
 
 WHEN de Montalt lost his hold of Dessie her screams 
 ceased and a rustling noise told him that she had moved. 
 Instantly he stretched out his hands and groped rapidly 
 in all directions in the darkness ; but he could feel nothing 
 of her, and he sprang to his feet therefore and went to the 
 door of the room lest she should try to escape. 
 
 Then he held his breath and listened again, but not a 
 sound came to his ears. The time was slipping away fast, 
 and yet he seemed no nearer the object he had in view. 
 
 He resolved then on a more desperate plan. He must 
 take the risk of getting some kind of light, and grapple 
 with the girl. He shut the door of the room and thrust 
 enough of the furniture against it to make it impossible 
 for Dessie to escape, and then felt about for the gas 
 bracket, but could not find it. He cursed his ill-luck. 
 He had now indeed lost all self-control, and was like a 
 madman in his baffled fury and anxiety to get the work 
 done, while his mind was so inflamed against Dessie that 
 he was now to the full as eager to lay violent hands upon 
 her as fie was to find the jewels. 
 
 And at this moment fortune favored him. 
 
 Groping for the gas bracket his hands came suddenly 
 upon the girl, who was standing in a corner pressed 
 against the wall and covered by one of the curtains of 
 the bed. 
 
 292
 
 A Grip of Death 293 
 
 "At last ! " he cried as, one hand seized her, while his 
 other arm was flung round her, to prevent her using the 
 revolver which he knew she held ready to shoot him 
 down. 
 
 Cautiously he felt for the hand which held the pistol, 
 and finding it he wrenched the weapon from her grasp 
 and flung it away. Dessie meanwhile sending up cry 
 after cry for help in loud piercing tones. 
 
 " Silence, you devil," he cried, forcing her two hands 
 together and holding them in an iron grip, while with 
 the other hand he tore down the curtain and half smoth- 
 ered her in it in order to stifle her cries. 
 
 Then he felt for his knife ; and a loud imprecation burst 
 from his lips when he discovered that it was gone; that 
 he must have dropped it in the course of his crawling 
 search on the floor. 
 
 " Will you give those jewels up? " he cried, between his 
 teeth, emphasising his question with another oath ; which 
 was repeated when the girl made no answer. 
 
 He shook her violently, and then found she had fainted 
 from terror. 
 
 There was nothing to fear now from getting a light, 
 so clasping her tightly in one arm he struck a match and 
 held it a moment over her face, while he scanned it closely 
 and savagely, and then glanced round for the gas bracket. 
 He carried her to it, her body all limp and flaccid, and her 
 head lying helpless on his shoulder, and lit the gas. 
 
 But the next instant he dropped the girl, who fell hud- 
 dled up in a heap on the floor and turned to face Sir Ed- 
 mund Landale, who burst open the door and came rush- 
 ing impetuously into the room. 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " cried the baronet in a 
 loud voice. 
 
 " That is my affair," was the answer; while the French-
 
 294 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 man's hand went instantly to the pocket where lay his 
 revolver. 
 
 Landale seeing the movement guessed its meaning, and 
 without another word sprang upon the other man before 
 he had time to draw his weapon. 
 
 A fierce and terrible struggle began, in which each man 
 knew his life depended on the issue. 
 
 Sir Edmund Landale had not at first seen Dessie and 
 believed that she had either escaped or been killed; but 
 just as he grappled with his antagonist, his eye fell upon 
 her where she lay huddled together and motionless, and 
 the sight filled him with added fury and nerved him to 
 strain every possible effort. 
 
 He thought she was dead, and that de Montalt had 
 killed her ; for reasons he could guess, as Dessie had told 
 him some of the story ; and the thought lent such strength 
 and impetuosity to his attack that, though he was the 
 weaker man, he bore the other back, forced him to the 
 ground, and fastened his fingers on his throat. 
 
 With all his faults he loved the girl with all the strength 
 and passion in his nature ; and the belief that de Montalt 
 had deliberately duped him to get him out of the house 
 so that Dessie might be left at his mercy, and that he had 
 broken in to wreak vengeance upon her in this cowardly 
 way, acted like an intoxicating draught and made his 
 frenzy as irresistible for the moment as it was ungovern- 
 able. 
 
 But de Montalt on his side had strength, and vastly 
 greater skill as a fighter. In courage he was his assail- 
 ant's equal, in wariness, his superior; and when the first 
 fury of the baronet's furious onslaught had spent itself, 
 the issue of the fight was as certain as anything could be. 
 He let the baronet exert himself to the utmost and pour 
 away prodigally the strength and breath that by and by,
 
 A Grip of Death 295 
 
 when the final tussle came, would probably cost him his 
 life. The Frenchman did little more than render his 
 assailant's attack as little harmful as possible, while he 
 gathered his energies for an effort with which he meant 
 to decide the issue of the fray. 
 
 Gradually and quietly, and with absolute coolness, he 
 gauged the limit of Landale's strength and power, and 
 made ready to defeat him. Little by little he shifted his 
 position until the man who was gripping his throat with 
 hysterical and feverish vehemence was forced into a pos- 
 ture which rendered him liable to be hurled aside; and 
 as soon as he had judged his distance and position, with 
 the wariness of a practised wrestler, de Montalt got ready 
 for the coup by which he meant to get the other at his 
 mercy. 
 
 But before it came, an incident happened which affected 
 both men, and had Landale had a weapon of any kind in 
 his hand would probably have given him an immediate 
 victory. 
 
 The fall and the subsequent noise of the fight roused 
 Dessie from her swoon, and with a great effort she 
 struggled up into a sitting posture. She was dazed at the 
 furious fight which she saw, and in confusion she fol- 
 lowed her woman's instinct, and began to scream with all 
 her power. 
 
 The sound once more nerved Landale to fresh efforts, 
 for his weaker muscles were already beginning to tire, 
 and gave such an irresistible impulse to his attack that, 
 for the moment de Montalt was borne back again. It 
 was only for the moment, however, and the next instant, 
 gathering his strength, he tore the Englishman's hands 
 from his throat, and thrusting him violently over, he 
 forced him onto his back, and kneeling on him, held down 
 his head with one hand, while with the other he drew
 
 296 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 out his revolver. He was mad with a merciless resolve 
 to have the lives of both. 
 
 But the slight delay which her screams had caused 
 had given Dessie time to gather her bewildered wits suffi- 
 ciently to understand something of the terrible issue to 
 herself should Landale be killed. 
 
 By a stroke of luck, the revolver which the Frenchman 
 had torn from her grasp, and thrown away, lay close be- 
 side her, and seizing it now, she struggled to her feet, 
 and went close to where the two men were locked in the 
 death struggle. She reached them just at the moment 
 when de Montalt had drawn his own weapon. Another 
 instant would have been too late. 
 
 But now, pointing her weapon with the muzzle almost 
 touching the arm with which de Montalt was holding his 
 revolver, she fired. 
 
 A shout of pain and rage told her that her shot had 
 done its work. The revolver fell on the floor, and the 
 man's arm dropped and hung by his side. 
 
 An oath followed the cry of pain, and still full of fight, 
 he released his hold on the baronet, and turned to attack 
 Dessie with his left hand. But the effort was a vain one. 
 Landale saw his advantage and the girl's danger in a 
 moment, and snatching up the revolver, which had fallen, 
 he levelled it and fired. 
 
 The Frenchman fell with a groan, and lay helpless 
 and bleeding at the very feet of the girl whose life he had 
 sought with such relentless intent. 
 
 "Are you hurt, Dessie ? " asked Landale, gasping for 
 breath after his fearful exertions. 
 
 " No, thank God; and you? " 
 
 " But for you, he would have killed us both." 
 
 " We had better get a doctor," replied Dessie, very 
 practically.
 
 A Grip of Death 297 
 
 " There is no one else in the house. Will you go, or 
 shall I? There is one in the street, about ten doors 
 to the right, on this side." 
 
 " I'll go. I could not bear to be alone with him." 
 
 " You will have to be careful what you tell the doctor." 
 
 " The truth is the best. The man attacked me in 
 this room, broke in to rob the house, and then tried to 
 murder me. There is no need now to say why I was here. 
 You came back in time, and this happened." 
 
 When the doctor came, a brief examination showed him 
 the extent of the mischief. 
 
 " He will die," was the verdict. " There is internal 
 hemorrhage. Nothing on earth can save him, but he 
 may linger hours, and perhaps days. Shall he go to the 
 hospital ? " 
 
 " No, he can stop in the house," said Landale. " Send 
 in nurses, and do what can be done. I will have the place 
 put in order." 
 
 The doctor was discretion itself; accepted what was 
 told him, asked no questions except such as were neces- 
 sary to enable him to judge of the " case," and went away 
 to make preparations. 
 
 " What are you going to do, Bessie ? " asked Sir Ed- 
 mund, when the doctor had gone, and they were both 
 collected and recovered from the effects of the fearful 
 scene through which they had passed. 
 
 " I am going. You scarcely expect to detain me here 
 after this," she answered, a little sharply. 
 
 7? Shall I send you home ? " 
 
 n No, thank you, I have had enough experience of your 
 carriages. Your coachman can't find the way I want to 
 
 go." 
 
 "As you please. Let me say one word, however. I 
 have done with the past once and for all. I swear to you.
 
 298 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 You saved my life to-night, and I will prove to you if 
 you will let me that I am grateful." 
 
 " You cannot help me," said Dessie. "'That wretched 
 man upstairs has broken my life and nothing can help me. 
 For all the store I set by it, he might as well have taken 
 it." 
 
 " I shall see CHeriton and tell him everything I have 
 done." 
 
 " Nothing you can say or do to anyone can undo what 
 has been done," repeated Dessie. 
 
 They parted then. He had walked with her until she 
 found a cab, and as he handed her into it, he said, earn- 
 estly 
 
 " I will give my life to making you happier and in 
 your own way." 
 
 She made no reply, but the change in him pleased her, 
 and she was inclined to believe that now at last he was 
 indeed sincere. 
 
 She drove at first to her rooms in order to relieve what 
 she knew must be Daphne's intense anxiety on her ac- 
 count. The place was in darkness, however, and when 
 she had lighted the gas she found on the table a hastily 
 scribbled line from Daphne saying she had gone to Mrs. 
 Markham's, and asking Dessie to follow immediately 
 when she returned. 
 
 Dessie ran down again, therefore, and told her cabman 
 to drive her as fast as he could to South Kensington. 
 She did not understand what such a message meant ; but 
 as she had intended to go to Mrs. Markham's in any 
 event, to carry the news of the strange occurrences of the 
 afternoon and evening, she was content to lean back in 
 the cab with a feeling of pleasure at the rush of the cool 
 evening air on her hot forehead, and of relief that at 
 length one of the chief strains was removed from her life.
 
 A Grip of Death 299 
 
 The killing dilemma on which she had been thrust 
 would be removed by the death of the man who had 
 brought all this terror into the last few days of her life. 
 
 Her friend would at any rate be saved from marriage 
 with a wretch capable of such deeds as he had nearly 
 wrought that very evening. And she shuddered at the 
 remembrance of those moments of literally awful sus- 
 pense when she knew he was groping about in the dark- 
 ness to find and kill her, and she closed her eyes in horror 
 at the recollection of her chill of terror when his hands 
 had closed on her, and she had been face to face with 
 death. 
 
 At South Kensington her surprise bore down all other 
 feelings. As soon as it became known that she had 
 arrived, all in the house came flocking out into the hall 
 to meet and greet her, and Tom Cheriton who had just 
 come back despondent from a long, fruitless search for 
 the man who had wriggled so cleverly out of his custody 
 earlier in the evening, rushed to her and took her in his 
 arms, despite her protests, and half led, half carried her 
 into the room, where they had all been sitting in suspense. 
 
 " I know everything, sweetheart," he whispered on the 
 way. " Your sister has told me ; and I'm only sorry 
 you thought it would make any difference to me." 
 
 " He would not let me tell you, Tom," she whispered, 
 too happy at having his arms round her and feeling too 
 safe after all her terrible experiences to make more than 
 a faint resistance when he asserted himself. " He vowed 
 the whole story should be told, and Daphne made to bear 
 the brunt of all." 
 
 As soon as they were in the room she broke away from 
 him and went to Mrs. Markham. 
 
 " Dora, you have a great trial to bear : and I a terrible 
 story to tell you. As all are here, I suppose they have
 
 300 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 told you who this Count de Montalt really is, and that I 
 have known it all along. It has nearly killed me to have 
 to carry that secret and to decide whether to dare every- 
 thing and let you know, or to hold my tongue and bear to 
 see you pass into his power." 
 
 "But where have you been, Dessie?" cried Tom. 
 
 " Within an ace of death," she answered ; and then, 
 sitting by Mrs. Markham's side and holding her hand, 
 she told the whole story of what had happened from the 
 moment of her leaving her rooms to that of her arrival, 
 touching as lightly as she could, for the sake of her friend, 
 upon de Montalt's conduct. 
 
 The story produced a profound effect upon them all; 
 and the instant Mrs. Markham learnt that her lover lay 
 wounded and perhaps dying, she insisted upon hurrying 
 away to his side.
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 IN two or three days Dessie was quite herself again, 
 and her nerves had almost recovered from the strain of 
 the preceding week and the shock of the terrible encoun- 
 ter with de Montalt. 
 
 She was alone once more in her rooms, but Mrs. Mark- 
 ham had insisted that for a time at least Dessie should 
 go and live with her. She had pressed this in one or two 
 of the hurried and rather hysterical letters written from 
 St. John's Wood, where she remained watching and 
 nursing with unceasing care the last hours of the man she 
 loved to the end, despite the gross deception he had prac- 
 tised upon her. 
 
 Tom Cheriton and Mrs. Davenant had had to go back 
 to the bedside of Mr. Davenant; and Dessie had mean- 
 while refused to consider their engagement still existing. 
 
 " No, Tom. This man's death, if he dies, that is, can 
 make no difference to the real facts of the case," she said 
 to him. " It may prevent a disclosure of them, though 
 that is not certain, because the way in which he has met 
 his end may provoke an exhaustive investigation, and 
 cause everything to be made public. But even if not, if 
 nothing is found out, I am still what I knew myself to 
 be when I told you before I could never be your wife. 
 You have a future before you ; and the possibility of your 
 
 301
 
 302 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 wife's sister having to stand for trial for such a charge 
 would make our life wretched. It would mine. There 
 would be a perpetual shadow between us." 
 
 "And there would be none, I suppose, if we were 
 apart ? " He smiled in his usual cheery way, and then 
 added, " I'm not going to be such a donkey as to argue 
 with you when you're in this serious sort of mood. I 
 haven't time: I must get back to that poor old chap at 
 the Smoke-hole, who will be groaning away every tedious 
 second that we're absent from him. There's no hurry 
 about a thing of this sort. But I have an idea, and I'm 
 very much mistaken if the next time I kiss you " and 
 he did it despite her protesting cry of " Tom ! " " you'll 
 have a very different story to tell. And then I shall pun- 
 ish oh ! I will punish you, and humble that pride of 
 yours : roll it in the dirt and trample on it for I'll make 
 you my wife about six months earlier than we ever 
 thought possible, and then " he finished with a suc- 
 cession of threatening shakes of the head. " But now, 
 good-bye oh, I forgot, I mustn't kiss you again, or it 
 would be ' the next time,' and I'm not ready yet to make 
 you change your decision." He pressed both her hands 
 warmly, and looked into her eyes, and cried, " Now, mind, 
 we're just as much engaged as ever," and with that he 
 went. 
 
 Daphne, " Nurse Morland " again, left for the north 
 the next day, to pick up the gray threads of her nursing 
 life there, where for the moment she had dropped them 
 to unravel the scarlet tangle of the past troubles, in order 
 to help Dessie. But before she left she did one thing 
 unknown to her sister. She wrote a long statement of 
 the actual facts of the death of the man whose murder she 
 was supposed to have committed, and gave it to Tom 
 Cheriton.
 
 Conclusion 303 
 
 " If this man, Colimbert, de Montalt, as he calls himself, 
 should be conscious before his death, try to get this read 
 over to him, and let him, if he will, attest its truth. He 
 is a creature of the strangest impulses, and it is not at 
 all unlikely that Mrs. Markham could influence him to 
 tell all he knows of the facts." 
 
 Tom Cheriton saw the prudence of this step, and after 
 a little conference with Mrs. Markham entrusted the 
 paper to her, telling her exactly what to do in the event 
 of the man giving any signs of willingness to make such 
 an act of tardy reparation. Sir Edmund Landale was also 
 told; and as he was a magistrate, he promised to remain 
 close by until the man's end, so as to take his depositions 
 if possible. 
 
 This was what Cheriton had had in his thoughts when 
 bidding Dessie good-bye; but she knew nothing of it, 
 and spent the two or three days that followed the events 
 at St. John's Wood in trying to plan out what her future 
 was likely to be. She began to do a little work again, 
 and soon commenced to think she would be able to slip 
 back into the old groove, now that the terror which de 
 Montalt had caused was removed. 
 
 She was a good deal puzzled what to do with the rubies. 
 She had put them back in the safe with the papers, and 
 now that their full history was known, was anxious to 
 restore them. But she left her decision over until she 
 should have an opportunity of consulting Cheriton; and 
 the thought that now she could do this, because there 
 was no longer even a vestige of concealment between 
 them, was very pleasant. 
 
 She could not marry him, of course. Her decision was 
 firm on that point; very firm and resolute indeed. But 
 the remembrance of his last words, that he would make 
 her change that decision, was nevertheless very sweet
 
 304 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 and grateful to her. It would be delightful to have him 
 as a friend a dear, intimate, close, sympathising friend, 
 to whom she could turn in any moments of trouble or 
 worry, and make sure of getting sound advice and 
 comfort. 
 
 There would come a time when he would marry, of 
 course, and she was shrewd enough to foresee that that 
 might spell separation. Wives don't care to take to their 
 hearts their husbands' old friends. But he might marry 
 a woman who would have sense enough to and when 
 she reached that point, Dessie generally left the reverie 
 to take care of itself, and with a reflection that in any case 
 the marriage could not be yet, she would turn to do some 
 practical work, consoling herself with the thought that 
 that at any rate would progress. 
 
 Just at that juncture the proofs of one of her stories 
 began to pour in upon her, and one or two commissions 
 for articles and short stories came. She was thus kept 
 very busy, and the days slipped away until she was one 
 day aroused to the fact that a whole week had passed, and 
 not a line or message had come from Tom Cheriton. 
 
 It was, of course, quite right and proper that it should 
 be so, she told herself, as she had of her own accord 
 broken off the engagement ; but still it was a little dis- 
 appointing, and the letterless breakfast on the eighth 
 morning was very tasteless and insipid and quite un- 
 appetising. But she shook off her depression and set 
 to work after breakfast with a will. 
 
 She had not done much, however, when she was in- 
 terrupted by the sound of footsteps running quickly up 
 the staircase. They had a very familiar sound ; so much 
 so, indeed, that before they reached the door, a great light 
 of expectant pleasure had filled her eyes, and she turned 
 round with a face that was beaming with joy. But she
 
 Conclusion 305 
 
 recollected Herself in time, drove the light out of her 
 eyes, turned back to her work and went on writing, so 
 busily occupied and deeply buried in her subject that 
 when the knock came on the panel she cried, " Come 
 in," in a pre-occupied, routine tone, and did not even 
 raise her head from the table. 
 
 " Put whatever it is down on the table," she said, not 
 turning her head, though her eyes were dancing with 
 light. 
 
 A loud thump, as of something set noisily down, a 
 louder opening and slamming to of the door, and then 
 silence. 
 
 Bessie's heart gave a little throb when the door 
 slammed; but she would not look round. She waited 
 and listened, and with a laugh said aloud: 
 
 " Strange, that messenger seems to have taken off his 
 feet to go downstairs without making a noise " ; and she 
 pushed her chair back as if to get up. 
 
 But before she could do so, there was a hearty laugh, 
 one that she knew well, and a pair of arms were round 
 her, taking possession of her with a natural masterfulness 
 that evidenced long practice. 
 
 " Oh, it's you," she cried. " But messengers, even if 
 they lose their feet, mustn't lose their heads in this way. 
 This is altogether wrong, Tom. And I can't allow it. 
 I'm very angry." 
 
 '" I know it's wrong, Dess, but there's nobody to tell 
 about it ; and really I am a messenger, a porter, or what 
 you like this morning. I've come to deliver something, 
 though I couldn't put it on the table." 
 
 a What is it ? " she asked, not quite so innocent and 
 ingenuous as she seemed, for she had been thinking much 
 about the next kiss that he had promised. 
 
 "It's this," and he gave her the kiss. "And now
 
 306 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 for the change of decision and your supreme humilia- 
 tion." 
 
 "Really?" she asked, not looking a bit humiliated or 
 ashamed, but quite radiant. 
 
 " Really ! " he answered ; and then in her delight she 
 kissed him; she couldn't help it. She was so pleased 
 to see him. He had been away a whole week, and she 
 had to scold him for that, so that she must just give him 
 one kiss first only as a friend. 
 
 "And now sweetheart, having settled our preliminaries 
 and mutually recognised our credentials, to business." 
 He laughed again, stole another kiss, and then sat down. 
 
 " Why haven't I had a line from you all this week?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " Why haven't I heard from you, you mean," was the 
 answering question. 
 
 " I've been waiting. I couldn't write to an obstinate 
 young woman who positively refused to have anything 
 more to do with me. But I've done better than write 
 to you I've settled everything, and actually got my 
 uncle's consent." 
 
 " Consent to what ? " asked Dessie, smiling, colouring, 
 and looking down. 
 
 " If you affect that innocence again I'll kiss you and 
 rumple your hair," he said, laughing. " What should 
 he consent to but our marriage ? " 
 
 " I told you that was impossible, Tom." She was 
 serious now. 
 
 " I know you did, and I laughed at you for it. So I 
 do now. But our talk musn't be all laugh. There's a 
 smirch of blood and a touch of death about the thing 
 that are anything but mirthful. That fellow's dead ; died 
 last night. Landale wired for me to come up yesterday."
 
 Conclusion 307 
 
 rt WKy wasn't I told? I could have gone to poor 
 Dora." 
 
 " You can go to her in a few minutes. It was only 
 late at night ; and Mrs. Markham is in bed utterly fagged 
 out and done for. She's better asleep for some hours 
 yet. She's taken this thing very badly. When I saw 
 her last night she seemed almost in a state of collapse. 
 But she has done splendidly for us. She got the man to 
 tell the whole truth and to swear to it as a deposition 
 before Landale as a J. P." 
 
 "And what is the truth ? " asked Dessie, anxiously. 
 
 " He murdered the Indian himself Maiwand, or what- 
 ever his name was and contrived to put the blame on to 
 your sister. It's an ugly story," said Cheriton, grimly, 
 " and there's no need to dwell on the details of it. The 
 statement clears up the mystery and no more will be heard 
 of it so far as your sister is concerned." 
 
 Dessie had paled a little in her eagerness and uncer- 
 tainty ; but as she looked into her companion's eyes, with 
 the knowledge that now all bar between them was really 
 swept away, her eyes began to brighten and her cheeks 
 to flush, and love bore down all other emotions. 
 
 "And what about that decision now? " he asked, read- 
 ing her thoughts easily enough, and smiling. 
 
 "Ah, how glad I am ! " she burst out, half hysterically, 
 while the tears of sheer gladness stood in her eyes as 
 she hid her blushes on his breast. 
 
 There was a long silence, which neither cared to break. 
 
 " One act of justice we must do/' said Cheriton, at 
 length. " Give Landale credit for the change in him. 
 He has behaved splendidly in this, and I am sure is 
 mightily sorry for his part. That night's work scared 
 him beyond all description."
 
 30 8 The Heritage of Peril 
 
 tl If he will only leave me alone I'll be thankful enough 
 to him," said Dessie, quickly. 
 
 " He has done well in this, child, and I believe in him 
 now. So must you." 
 
 "-I bear him no malice. He was more dupe than 
 knave. But -I can't say I have, or ever can have, any other 
 feeling toward him than a desire never to set eyes on 
 him again." 
 
 " There'll be no chance of that, for some time at least 
 he's going out to the Colonies for a long trip." 
 
 " And now, what about the jewels the Rohilkund Ru- 
 bies? How am I to get rid of them? I am afraid 
 of them, Tom. Their whole history is evil and blood- 
 sfied." 
 
 " Well, I've thought of that, too ; and shall try to find 
 a small counterpoise. We'll give them up to their right- 
 ful owners ; but we'll get the reward that was offered and 
 we'll give it to a hospital for a Dessie Merrion Ward." 
 
 The thought pleased the girl, and she smiled; then 
 mindful of her friend, she said: 
 
 " I must go to Dora now, Tom ; she may want help." 
 
 " In one minute. You've only three things to do first : 
 to say when you'll come down to the Smoke-hole and 
 quiet the impatience of a convalescent but irritable in- 
 valid, fix a date when you will make the last change in 
 your name, and give me a kiss to seal the two contracts. 
 
 She smiled again at this, and blushed much more deeply 
 than before, and seeing it, he took her into his arms that 
 she might have time to recover her self-possession. 
 
 And when he let her out again, both the contracts had 
 been agreed to and sealed with many seals. 
 
 THE END.
 
 THE GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 ILLUSTRATED, EDITIONS 
 OF FAMOUS BOOKS * * 
 
 The following books are large izmo rolumes 5^x8^f inches in 
 size, are printed on laid paper of the highest grade, and bound in cloth, 
 with elab r ate decorative covers. They are in every respect beautiful 
 books. 
 
 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN By Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
 
 A new edition, printed from entirely new plates, on fine laid paper 
 of extra quality, with half-tone illustrations by Louis Betts. 
 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS By John Bunyan. 
 
 A new edition of Bunyan's immortal allegory, printed from new 
 plates on fine laid paper, with illustrations by H. M. Brock. 
 
 THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD By Susan Warner. 
 
 Printed from entirely new plates, on fine laid paper of superior 
 quality, and illustrated with numerous drawings by Fred Pegram. 
 
 THE LITTLE MINISTER (Maude Adams Edition) 
 
 By J. M. Barrie. 
 
 Printed on fine laid paper, large I'ifho In size, with new cover de- 
 sign in gold, and eight full-page half tone illustrations from the play. 
 
 PROSE TALES By Edgar Allan Poe. 
 
 A large lamo volume, bound in cloth, with decorative cover. 
 Containing eleven striking drawings by Alice B. Woodward, a biog- 
 raphy of the author, a bibliography of the Tales, and comprehensive 
 notes. The best edition ever published in a single volume. 
 
 ISHMAEL - ) By Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. 
 
 SELF-RAISED" ) The two vols. in * flat box, or boxed separately 
 Handsome new editions of these two old favorites, with illustrations 
 by Clare Angell 
 
 THE FIRST VIOLIN By Jessie Fothergill. 
 
 A fine edition of this popular musical novel, with illustrations by 
 Clare Angell. 
 
 EACH VOLUME IN A BOX. PRICE ONE DOLLAR EACH 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP :: NEW YORK
 
 A BEAUTIFUL BOOK 
 
 LORNA DOONE 
 
 EXMOOR EDITION. By R. D. BLACKMORE 
 
 A large izmo volume, about 5^x8^ inches in size, 
 bound in cloth, with decorative cover of floral design, 
 and colored tops. Printed on fine smooth wove paper o\ 
 excellent quality, and embellished with over two hundred 
 and fifty drawings, initial letters, head and tail pieces, etc., 
 by some of the best American Artists, among whom are 
 Henry Sandham, George Wharton Edwards, W. H. 
 Drake, Harry Fenn, and Wm. Hamilton Gibson. Un- 
 doubtedly the most elaborate and expensively printed 
 edition of this greatest novel of modern times yet offered 
 at a moderate price. 
 
 PRICE, BOXED, ONE DOLLAR. 
 
 THE SAME, in three quarter Crushed Morocco, gold 
 tops and silk head bands. 
 
 PRICE, BOXED, Two DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS. 
 
 THE SAME, Two Volume Edition, beautifully bound 
 in crimson cloth, with colored tops, and a fac-simile ot 
 John Ridd's coat of arms in ink and gold on the covers. 
 Enclosed in a flat box. 
 
 PRICE Two DOLLARS PER SET. 
 
 THE SAME, Two Volume Edition, in three-quarter 
 Crushed Morocco, with gold tops and silk head bands. 
 Encased in a flat box. 
 
 PRICE FIVE DOLLARS PER SET. 
 
 Sent post-paid, on receipt of price by the Publishers. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 52 DUANE STREET :: :: NEW YORK
 
 THE POPULAR NOVELS OF 
 
 A. W. MARCHMQNT 
 
 NOW OFFERED IN HANDSOMELY MADE 
 CLOTH BOUND EDITIONS AT LOW PRICES 
 
 tew writers of recent years have achieved such a wida 
 popularity in this particular field as has Mr. Marchmont. 
 For rattling good stories of love, intrigue, adventure, 
 plots and counter-plots, we know of nothing better, and 
 to the reader who has become surfeited with the analyti- 
 cal and so-called historical novels of the day, we heartily 
 commend them. There is life, movement, animation, 
 on every page, and for a tedious railway journey or a 
 dull rainy afternoon, nothing could be better. They will 
 make you forget your troubles. 
 
 The following five volumes are now ready in our 
 popular copyright series: 
 
 BY RIGHT OF SWORD 
 
 With illustrations by POWELL CHASE. 
 
 A DASH FOR A THRONE 
 
 With illustrations by D. MURRAY SMITH. 
 
 MISER HOADLEY'S SECRET 
 
 With illustrations by CLARE ANGELL. 
 
 THE PRICE OF FREEDOM 
 
 With illustrations by CLARE ANGELA. 
 
 THE HERITAGE OF PERIL 
 
 With illustrations by EDITH LESLIE LANG. 
 Large i zmo in size, handsomely bound in cloth, 
 
 uniform in style. 
 Price YS cent* per volume, postpaid. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS 
 
 52 Duaue Street :i :: NEW YORK
 
 CHECKERS 
 
 A Hard Luck Story 
 
 By HENRY M. BLOSSOM, JR. 
 Author of "The Documents in Evidence" 
 
 Abounds in the most racy and picturesque slang. N. 
 Y. Recorder. 
 
 "Checkers" is an interesting and entertaining chap, 
 it distinct type, with a separate tongue and a way ol 
 saying things that is oddly humorous. Chicago Record. 
 
 If I had to ride from New York to Chicago on a slow 
 train, I should like a half-dozen books as gladsome as 
 "Checkers" and I could laugh at the trip. N. Y. Com- 
 mercial Advertiser. 
 
 "Checkers" himself is as distinct a creation as Chim- 
 mie Fadden and his racy slang expresses a livelier wit. 
 The racing part is clever reporting and as horsey and 
 "up-to-date" as any one could ask. The slang of the 
 race-course is caught with skill and is vivid and pictur- 
 esque, and students of the byways of language may find 
 some new gems of colloquial speach to add to their lexi- 
 cons. Springfield Republican. 
 
 A new popular edition just issued, in attractive cloth 
 binding, small I2mo in size. Price, 75 cents, postpaid. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 52 DUANE STREET :: :: NEW YORK
 
 BREWSTER'S MILLIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON 
 
 hero is a young New Yorker of good parts who, 
 ;o save an inheritance of seven millions, starts out to 
 spend a fortune of one million within a year. An eccen- 
 tric uncle, ignorant of the earlier legacy, leaves him 
 seven millions to be delivered at the expiration of a year, 
 on the condition that at that time he is penniless, and 
 has proven himself a capable business man, able to 
 manage his own affairs. The problem that confronts 
 Brewster is to spend his legacy without proving himself 
 either reckless or dissipated. He has ideas about the dis- 
 position of the seven millions which are not those of the 
 uncle when he tried to supply an alternative in case the 
 nephew failed him. His adventures in pursuit of poverty 
 are decidedly of an unusual kind, and his disappoint- 
 ments are funny in quite a new way. The situation is 
 developed with an immense amount of humor. 
 
 OTHER BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR: 
 GRAUSTARK, The Story of a Love behind a Throne. 
 CASTLE CRANEYCROW. THE SHERRODS. 
 
 Handsome cloth bound volumes, 75 cents each, 
 
 At all Booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by 
 the Publishers. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP :: NEW YORK
 
 The Pleasures of Literature 
 and the Solace of Books 
 
 COMPILED BY JOSEPH SHALER WITH 
 AN INTRODUCTION BY ANDREW LANG 
 
 A volume that will appeal to every book lover, pre- 
 senting, as it does, in chaste and elegant style, the 
 thoughts of great men of all ages on books and the read- 
 ing f ,'ireof. 
 
 A particularly dainty and appropriate gift for the 
 reader or student, and one that is sure to be appreciated. 
 
 Printed on the finest deckle edge paper and bound in 
 the best silk finished cloth, with frontispiece and rubricated 
 title page. Elaborate cover design in gold. Price, $I.OO 
 
 Mrs. Jerningham's Journal 
 John Jerningham's Journal 
 
 The re-publication of this exquisite love story in verse 
 is an event that will be heartily welcomed by those who 
 can appreciate beauty of sentiment when presented in 
 an unusual guise. No book is so appropriate for a dainty 
 and inexpensive wedding gift. 
 
 Two volumes, small I2mo in size, printed on the highest 
 grade deckle edge paper and bound in light green cloth wttb 
 ivory and green decorations. Encased in a flat box. 
 
 Price, $1.50 per set, postpaid. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publisher* 
 
 52 Duane Street NEW YORK
 
 Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 
 
 Rendered into English verse by Edward Fitzgerald. A 
 correct version of the text of the Fourth Edition, with/ 
 accurate notes, a biography of both Omar and Fitzger-i 
 aid, and a Poetical Tribute by Andrew Lang, together 
 with a remarkable descriptive and comparative article by) 
 Edward S. Holden. Beautifully printed in two colors on\ 
 deckel edge paper, with decorative borders, fourteen 
 half-tone illustrations by Gilbert James, and a portrait of 
 Fitzgerald. Gilt tops, attractively bound in cloth and 
 gold and each volume encased in a flat box with cover. 
 Size, 51^ x 7^5. PRICE, $1.25. 
 
 THE SAME, small 1 2 mo in size, handsomely bound in 
 cloth and printed on the finest deckle edge paper, with 
 the fifteen illustrations in two colors, and containing the 
 same matter as the foregoing volume. PRICE, 5oc. 
 THE SAME, small I zmo .*"" size, exquisitely bound in 
 Red English Roan, with gilt tops. Each volume in a box. 
 PRICE, $1.00. 
 
 THE SAME, in booklet form, 24 pages, printed in two 
 colors, the complete text of the fourth edition. PRICE, 1 5c. 
 
 KIPLING'S POEMS, BARRACK ROOM 
 BALLADS, DEPARTMENTAL DITTIES, ETC. 
 
 Two volumes in one, with glossary. Fourteen full-page 
 pen-and-ink drawings together with a new portrait of the 
 author. Handsome'.y bound in cloth, gilt tops, and 
 printed on old Chester antique deckel edge paper. Size, 
 5# X 74 in., 340 pages. PRICE, $1.50. 
 
 A/I books sent postpaid on receipt of price. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS 
 
 52 Duane Street :: :: :: NEW YORK
 
 No Field Collection is Complete 
 Without this Book 
 
 A LITTLE BOOK of 
 TRIBUNE VERSE 
 
 By EUGP:NE FIELD 
 
 Compiled and edited by JOSEPH G. BROWN, formerly 
 city editor of the Denver Tribune, and an intimate friend 
 and associate of the poet during the several years in which 
 he was on the staff of that paper. 
 
 This volume resurrects a literary treasure which has 
 been buried for many years in the forgotten files of a 
 newspaper, and it is, as nearly as it has been possible to 
 make, an absolutely complete collection of the hitherto 
 unpublished poems of the gifted author. 
 
 These poems are the early product of Field's genius. 
 They breathe the spirit of Western life of twenty years ago. 
 The reckless cowboy, the bucking broncho, the hardy 
 miner, the English tenderfoot, the coquettish belle, and all 
 the foibles and extravagances of Western social life, are de- 
 picted with a naivete and satire, tempered with sym- 
 pathy and pathos, which no other writer could imitate. 
 
 The book contains nearly three hundred pages, in- 
 cluding an interesting and valuable introduction by the 
 editor, and is printed from new type on fine deckle edge 
 paper, and handsomely bound in cloth, with gilt tops. 
 Retail price, 75 cents 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 52 DUANE STREET :: :: NEW YORK
 
 Tales of the Ex-Tanks 
 
 A BOOK OF HARD LUCK STORIES 
 By CLARENCE LOUIS CULLEN 
 
 Under the above title we have published a volume of 
 stories or sketches that treat of the "strenuous life" 
 from the viewpoint of men who have been up against the 
 real thing. 
 
 It is a book of tales of good fellows who have won out 
 from many odd and humorous predicaments, in many 
 sections of the United States, after having played too 
 assiduous tag with the Flagon, likewise the Tankard, 
 similarly the Bowl; and if, after reading this book, you 
 will not conclude that there is no old rummy game of 
 hard luck from which a man of fair wit can't win out with 
 an even break then we'll stand for a correction; that's all. 
 
 From the Chief Ex-Tank down to No. I 3, the Hoodoo 
 Ex-Tank, they are all live ones; and they're all stake 
 class. If you've ever got a solar plexus or an uppercut 
 from the mallet-like fist of that top-notch heavyweight of 
 them all Hard Luck these reminiscences of the Ex- 
 Tanks will cause you to revert to such personal expe- 
 riences with a sense of mellow recognition. 
 
 We don't believe that a better book of tales for the 
 man of to-day has yet been published. 
 
 Bound in cloth, with characteristic cover design 75 cents. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 52 Duane Street : : :: :: NEW YORK 
 
 Town Topics says; "The book is full of laughter. 
 No student to American slang can afford to pass it by."
 
 New and Cheaper Editions of Books by 
 
 Mr. Hamilton Mabie 
 
 I2mo, cloth, 75 cents per copy, postpaid 
 
 PARABLES OF LIFE 
 
 Poetic in conception, vivid and true in imagery, deli- 
 cately clear and pure in diction, these little pieces belong 
 to Mr. Mabie' s finest and strongest work. HENRY VAN 
 DYKE. 
 
 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Poet, Dramatist, Man 
 
 Professor F. H. Stoddard speaks or this work at 
 " almost unique in Shakespeare literature, in it that is a 
 continuous and thoroughly worked out study of the whole 
 personality of Shakespeare." 
 
 A BOOK OF OLD ENGLISH LOVE SONGS 
 
 Edited by Hamilton Mabie. Superbly illustrated with 
 Drawings and Decorations by George Wharton Edwards. 
 
 One of the daintiest specimens of bookmaking, designed to serve 
 both as a gift book and work of reference. 
 
 A BOOK OF OLD ENGLISH BALLADS 
 
 Edited by Hamilton Mabie. Superbly illustrated with 
 Drawings and Decorations by George Wharton Edwards. 
 
 "The aim has been to bring, within moderate compass, a collec- 
 tion of the songs of the people. Extract from Introduction. 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS 
 52 DUANE STREET :: :: NEW YORK
 
 A 000127364 8 

 
 l!