the speaker's tones rang out with passionate vehemence. he stumbled down the steps, into the garden, and repeated his accusation loudly. it all seemed strangely out of place there, ralph thought; it was no spot for sordid emotions, and angry passions. the words rang clear and loud to the startled vault of heaven; a blackbird started from her nest and flew across the lawn with nervous twitter. then another figure came from the drawing-room, the trim, immaculate figure of horace mayfield.
"for goodness' sake, control yourself dashwood," he said curtly. "there is nothing in the world to make all this ridiculous fuss about. it is all the fortune of war. we tried to get the best of these fellows, and they looted us instead. it was no fault of mine that these cablegrams miscarried. my manager has sold me--a thing that sometimes happens in the city. all we have to do is to pay and look pleasant."
"but i can't pay, and you know it. nobody understands the tenure on which i hold the property better than you do. if i wait for the money, what happens?"
"i am afraid it will be very awkward," mayfield said. "people will refuse to believe that you have been a victim of a fraud. they will actually regard the fraud as your own. whereas, if you pay up cheerfully, nothing can be said. personally, i am all right. i kept my name out of the business so that you could have all the credit. unfortunately, you will get all the blame as well. there may not be a prosecution; of course, it is not an easy matter to get the public prosecutor to interfere in these cases. the only thing for it is to take the bull by the horns and get out of all by paying."
sir george laughed in a bitter kind of way. he stood with his back to the house, facing the man who had brought all this about. he seemed to be almost beside himself with fury. the whole man was transformed.
"i have no money," he said, "and you know it. you have deliberately brought me to this pass for purposes of your own. you have traded upon my love of gambling to get me into your hands. and i might have been happy and comfortable here. i was getting rid of my millstone of debt so nicely when you came along once more. but for you, i should not stand here now outside my own home, an honoured house for three centuries, a ruined and desperate man with a vision of a prisoner's dock before me. you are a rich man----"
"possibly, dashwood. at any rate, i am in a position to find money. but there is no kind of friendship or sentiment when one comes to business. you are not a child that you can accuse me of luring you to your ruin. still, i am not disposed to take offence. i will undertake to settle the matter for you in time. but you must have a joint guarantee and i want another person to become security for you. you understand what i mean. if miss mary will be so good as to give me her word----"
a sudden cry of passion broke from the older man. he seemed to lose all control of himself. he dashed forward and smote mayfield with fury on the mouth. the latter staggered back a thin streak of blood trickling from his under lip.
there was no outbreak, no display of passion, on the part of mayfield. he was surprised and shaken by the impetuosity of the attack, but he stood there calmly, as he wiped the blood from his face. his features might have been carved out of solid marble, and the full light of the moon heightened the effect. in spite of his knowledge of the man, ralph could not but admire him at that moment. one who could keep his feelings under such control would prove a dangerous foe.
it was a strange, weird scene altogether, terrible and repulsive by very force of contrast. the environment was so quiet and peaceful, so exalted and refined. ralph stood as if rooted to the spot. he saw sir george advance again, he saw the hand upraised once more. all the pride of rank and place had fallen from the man; he was transformed for the moment to a savage. then mayfield caught the uplifted arm and held it in a grip like a vice.
"you will gain nothing by this," he said quietly. "you seem to forget that i am a guest under your roof. would you alarm your servants, would you have them know what their master is, when all his passions are aroused? come, sir, this is not what one has a right to expect from the owner of dashwood park. you owe me an apology----"
the words were lost on sir george. he wrenched himself free, he turned and faced the house with uplifted arms. the demon of anger still possessed him.
"i owe you nothing," he cried. "but for you i should be one of the happiest men alive. if i had been content to pay off old debts by degrees nothing would have happened. but i listened to you, with what result you know. you are a trickster and a cheat, a liar and a knave. you have laid a trap for me, and i have tumbled into it with my eyes open. what you mean to say in as many words is this--unless i can procure the sum of £50,000 in a few days i stand every chance of a criminal prosecution. you know exactly how i am situated, you know that i am helpless."
"you are not in the least helpless," mayfield said sternly. "to a certain extent the fault is mine, and i am prepared to do all that is in my power. you have only to say the word and the money is yours. promise me that your daughter shall become my wife, get her to say the word, and the situation is absolutely changed. i neither admit nor deny your accusations. you could not prove them--a jury would give a verdict against you, if you tried to do so. and if miss mary does me the honour to become my wife----"
"never," dashwood cried. "never in this world. our women only wed honourable men."
"is that really so? and what manner of man will the world call you if i fail to come to your assistance? control yourself--listen to me for a moment. do you realise what will happen to you if i go away without coming to some understanding? the police will come here and arrest you, it may be when you are entertaining friends. they will take you away, with handcuffs on your wrists. you will stand in the dock charged with a vulgar conspiracy to defraud innocent shareholders, and the charge will be proved. and if you ever come out of gaol again, it will be as a broken and dispirited man. it will be useless, when it is too late, to look for any consideration from me. i am not likely to forget the blow you dealt me just now. and, whilst you are raving like a lunatic, we might be settling the matter comfortably over a cigar. you are a man of the world; at least you will be once more when this fit of midsummer madness has passed. explain everything to your daughter if you like, put any face upon it that you please. agree to my conditions and you can sleep in peace tonight, and every other night, for the matter of that. listen to the voice of reason, and i will forget the treatment i have had at your hands."
but sir george was not listening. apparently a terrible struggle was going on in his breast. he could see now, how neatly and cleverly he had been trapped, he could see that he had no remedy against the man who had schemed for this position. and he was innocent himself of anything dishonourable. and now to give his daughter to this man! the mere idea was horrible. the meanest hound on the estate was far better off than sir george at this moment.
"do your worst," he shouted. his voice rang out on the startled silence. "do your worst. if i could kill you now, i would do so. you are not fit to live, your presence is an insult to any honest man. i can see nothing, i am going blind. . . ."
