the appointed hour came and with it the huge, smooth-running motor which shelton had sent to convey the patient to maldon grange. in the skilled hands of the nurse everything went off without a hitch, and in a few moments samuel flower lay in the car as comfortably as in his own bed. there was room for others besides wilfrid and beatrice, and cotter, who had begged a seat, was accommodated. any seat would do for him, he said in his simple way. all he asked was two or three minutes' grace to collect certain papers which samuel flower would need when he was able to attend to business again. wilfrid smiled grimly as he listened. he knew one of these papers. he knew that the little man screwed up in one of the back seats would have no mercy upon him.
it was a silent journey through the night, and the whole party were relieved when maldon grange was reached and samuel flower was safely laid in bed. during the whole run he had never moved once. he accepted the change of scene without the slightest knowledge that it had taken place.
"i think that is all," wilfrid said at length. "you won't want me for anything else?"
"well, no, sir," the nurse said. "i have had full instructions from dr. shelton, so that i know what to do."
it was good to be out of the house in the stillness of the night, and beatrice breathed a sigh of relief as she walked by wilfrid's side towards oldborough. it was a fine night, very tranquil and restful to the nerves. the little town was reached at length and wilfrid turned in at the gate leading up to his own house. he had sent a telegram from london so that his mother was prepared for him.
everything looked bright and cheerful, beatrice thought, in such strange contrast to the gilded misery through which she had been passing lately. she could understand now why wilfrid was proud of his home and what a wrench it would be to give it up. she understood the matter still better when a delightful, grey-haired lady came into the drawing-room and kissed her affectionately on the lips.
"i am so pleased to see you," mrs. mercer said. "what a terrible time you must have been having to be sure! but you will be safe in my house, and i will do my best to make you comfortable. now sit down and be at home."
beatrice's eyes were full of tears, and something seemed to rise up in her throat and choke her. she had many acquaintances, but she could never remember such a hearty welcome as this. her eyes wandered round the tiny drawing-room. she noticed the various treasures and marked the good taste with which everything was displayed.
"i am afraid it isn't much of a place to you," mrs. mercer said. "but, at any rate, it will be perfectly quiet. you don't know what a change it is to me after living in lodgings all the years wilfrid was at sea."
mercer was out of the room so that his mother could speak freely to beatrice.
"of course, it was a wrench to him," she went on. "he always loved an adventurous life, and it was for my sake that he settled down, and i am sure he will do well in time. it has been a struggle till now, but things are gradually mending and i am becoming quite fond of my new home. it would be dreadful to go back to those lodgings again. i don't think i could."
beatrice murmured something sympathetic. she was beginning to fall under the charm of this kindly old lady, who seemed to have but one idea and that to sacrifice herself to other people. a tinge of colour mantled beatrice's cheeks as she thought how different this was to the life she had been leading. the pathetic side of it, too, appealed to her nature. it seemed a terrible thing that within a few hours this dear old woman should be deprived of everything that was the pride and joy of her declining years. and the thing was going to be done in cold blood. surely, there must be some way to prevent it.
wilfrid's return put an end for the moment to beatrice's troubled thoughts. he was going back to maldon grange, at once, he said, but would return in the afternoon and take beatrice to see her uncle. he kissed his mother affectionately and a moment later he was gone.
quiet and peaceful as it was, yet beatrice wished herself miles away. indirectly her own hand seemed about to dash the cup of happiness from the lips of two worthy people. she was no longer blaming wilfrid for the terrible temptation which had assailed him earlier in the day; she was thinking she herself would have fallen into it without the slightest hesitation. she was tired, too, a fact which did not escape mrs. mercer's attention.
"how thoughtless of me to keep you up!" she said. "come with me and i'll show you to your room. you must be quite worn out."
it was pleasant and soothing. no shadow of tragedy hung over the house, and beatrice slept as she had not slept for nights. she came down to breakfast strengthened and refreshed, and yet anxious to be away from the house when the blow fell. she felt like a traitor in the camp. she racked her mind again and again for some way to save the situation. she was glad and yet sorry when the early afternoon came and wilfrid put in an appearance.
"your uncle is no better and no worse," he explained. "he passed a fairly good night, but he has been very restless all morning. now and again he recognizes people, but it is only for a moment. if you are quite ready we will go back to maldon grange and you can stay there till bed-time. if you like to come back here——"
wilfrid paused and bit his lip. he had forgotten what the next two hours were likely to produce for him. the time was past for paying the money, and cotter, acting as flower's agent, could step in at any moment and claim everything. there was a brief respite, wilfrid knew, because cotter had gone into castlebridge, no doubt to complete certain legal formalities, and would not be back much before six.
"i am going to leave you at maldon grange," wilfrid explained when once they had set out on their journey. "i must be at home when cotter returns from castlebridge. i have had many unpleasant things to face in my life, but nothing that i shrink from so much as telling my poor dear mother the truth. i dread to have to tell her."
"but is it necessary?" beatrice asked eagerly. "the amount is not a large one. put your pride in your pocket and let me help you. i have jewels and ornaments which i could easily turn into money. there are lots of things at maldon grange i could give to you directly we get there, and you could be in castlebridge and back on your bicycle before mr. cotter returns. please do not hesitate to accept this offer."
beatrice paused and laid her hand on her companion's shoulder. she was intensely in earnest. her eyes were fixed upon his. they were passing through the wood which led to maldon grange, so that they were alone and undisturbed. very gently wilfrid removed the girl's hand from his shoulder and shook his head.
"i have very few possessions left," he said, "but my self-respect is one of them. don't you see, beatrice, how impossible it is that i can allow you to do this thing? i cannot find sufficient words to thank you, but i must refuse. i should never forgive myself if i yielded to a temptation which is far worse than the temptation which was placed in my way yesterday. besides, it is just possible that i am alarming myself unduly, and i may yet find time and opportunity——"
wilfrid paused and threw up his head. from the back of the wood some one was shouting in terror; then there rose a wild cry for help, and there was a crackling of broken twigs as some one bolted in the distance. it was all over in a moment and the silence fell again, but wilfrid seemed dimly to make out the figure of cotter as he dashed through the thickets towards the open fields.
without another word he hurried to the spot where there were unmistakable signs of a struggle. a hat lay on the grass and by the side of it a revolver charged in all six chambers. here, too, were pieces of torn blue paper tossed in a pile upon the dead leaves. wilfrid picked up the fragments and pieced a few of them together. he turned to beatrice eagerly.
"amazing!" he exclaimed. "this is the acceptance itself—the very document that was to prove my undoing."
