dashwood nodded sulkily. he had a vague idea that ralph was making fun of him in some way. still, he was understood to say that such was his precise meaning. lady dashwood rose and walked off in the direction of the house; she had to see to the comfort of her expected visitors.
"i hope you will dine with us tonight, mr. darnley," she said. "just sir george and mary, with vincent here--nothing more than a quiet family party."
"too quiet and too family for me," dashwood muttered. "you can count me out. besides, i have the most important business in london tonight."
lady dashwood looked relieved. there was no mistaking the expression of her face as she turned away. dashwood noticed it, and his face flushed dully. he made a motion to follow, but ralph laid a strong hand upon his arm.
"one moment, if you please," he said, "i should like to have a few words with you on the subject of that matchbox. the police are pretty certain to ask you a great many questions concerning it, as you can see for yourself?"
"let 'em ask," growled dashwood, "it's nothing to do with me. i dropped that box, and the chap who set fire to the house picked it up."
"but suppose that chap, as you call him, happened to see you hanging about the house at a very early hour in the morning, a groom or somebody of that kind, who was prepared to swear to your identity? what then, my dear sir?"
ralph was only drawing a bow at a venture; he was really working out a little theory of his own, but the arrow went home to the feather. dashwood's face turned to a dull grey; he seemed to be utterly unnerved for the moment.
"look here," he blustered presently, "what do you think you are likely to gain by asking me all these prying questions? suppose i was hanging about the place last night. what then? isn't it natural? can't you understand the interest i take in my own property? you don't suppose that i should be likely to burn down a house of my own that contained some fifty thousand pounds worth of artistic treasures?"
"your logic is too strong for me," ralph smilingly admitted. "as the claimant to the property and the title you are hardly likely to destroy the house. but there is one thing that puzzles me--if things are as you say, why do you not press your claim?"
"because i am short of a certain document. it is rather an important document for it happens to be my mother's marriage certificate. but i am informed that the proper will comes into my possession soon, and then i can move. till that time i have decided to let sleeping dogs lie."
"meaning that sir george is to remain in blissful ignorance, i presume?"
"that's about it. let him make the best of his reign. and that stuck-up daughter of his! she'll get her face to the grindstone before she is much older. besides, there is another matter. lady dashwood has to be considered."
with difficulty ralph disguised his contempt. a fine consideration the speaker had for lady dashwood! he was trading cunningly on her weakness and her desire to avoid scandal. it was his cue to pretend that he did not care to take any steps during the lifetime of the unhappy old lady. he had stripped her pretty well of all she had, without any risk to himself. so long as the golden stream flowed he need never fear.
directly he came to make his claim he would be asked searching questions and would have to satisfy keen legal minds of the honesty of his proofs. meanwhile, he preferred to blackmail an innocent old lady who was too ill and broken down to protest. ralph read the fellow like an open book, but he was going to make use of him later, if needs be. therefore it was that he disguised his feelings now.
"that sounds very creditable," he said. "it is very good of you to consider lady dashwood's feelings in this way. i hope she is correspondingly grateful."
"she isn't anything of the kind," dashwood protested. "she fairly hates me. every bit of affection that she has is centred on sir george dashwood's girl. everything must be made smooth for mary. maybe her pride will have a bit of a dash before long. i don't know why i am telling you all these things, except that you seem a good sort. for all i know to the contrary, you may be a police spy inquiring into my past. all the same, i don't think the old lady would stoop to that kind of thing."
"you are quite right," ralph said drily. "i'm sure she couldn't. i must be going now. i shall not have the pleasure of seeing you at dinner tonight?"
dashwood winked significantly. there were better attractions elsewhere. the air seemed to be all the sweeter and purer after he had gone. very slowly and thoughtfully ralph made his way across the fields in the direction of his temporary abode. fate seemed determined to place all the threads in his hands; everything was arranging itself just as he could have wished. his plan of action became quite clear and plain. there were certain circumstances to be taken into consideration, more particularly the way that mary would act in the future. and vincent dashwood would be an important pawn in the game. by the time that it became necessary to dress for dinner ralph had worked it all out.
he walked across the fields in the direction of the dower house. it was a lovely night, clear and bright, with no breath of air stirring. ralph could see the red gables of the hall beyond the noble elms and beeches, and a pleasant picture rose before his eyes. he could see himself as master of the place with mary by his side--not the mary of the proud, cold face and haughty eye, but another mary, soft and beautiful, as she emerged chastened and purified from the furnace of the family pride. there would be trouble and humiliation first, but it should all come about, or ralph would know the reason why.
he was still debating the matter as he reached the dower house and a well-trained footman took him as far as the drawing-room. the blinds were not down yet, so that the room was filled with the saffron glory of the sunset. it was all so refined and homelike, so different to anything that ralph had ever seen before. it was the thing that ralph had dreamt of, the home life that had occupied much of his waking dreams. it lay before him now, but there was much to be done first.
lady dashwood came stately and smiling into the room. the look in her eyes was warm and affectionate as ralph took her hand. mary was not down yet, she explained, but the girl was dressing for dinner, and she was much better for a long sleep. then mary came into the room, serene and calm, with a flush on her beautiful face as she caught sight of ralph.
"you have heard all the good news?" she asked. "the hall has not been in the least damaged by the fire. my father ran in to tell me a little time ago, and he has gone back, preferring to dress at home. i understand that we shall be back home on saturday."
"so i am told," ralph replied. "it has been a great inconvenience, of course, but it most opportunely rid you of very undesirable visitors. by the time that saturday comes you will be in a position to defy them."
"indeed, i hope so," mary said, with the deep flush still on her face. "my father intends to bring those documents so marvellously recovered here with him tonight, and tomorrow he will take them to london. mr. mayfield is a clever man, but circumstances have been too strong for him this time. mr. darnley, you are our good fairy; without you i have not the least idea what we should have done."
"don't be so sure of that," ralph. smiled. "the fairy of my time always seemed to want something in return for past favours, and you may find that i am keeping very closely to precedent. but is not sir george very late?"
a big clock over the carved oak mantel chimed the hour of eight. lady dashwood shook her head, and explained that one must make allowances just now. there would be no great harm done if the dinner waited for five minutes. it was all the same to ralph, who asked nothing better than to sit in that perfect atmosphere and contemplate the beauty of the girl before him. he had to wait some time for the prize, but he knew that it would fall into his fingers at last. there was one shortcut to victory, but he wasn't going to take that way. he watched the sunshine playing on mary's face, he seemed to see clean through the mask of pride to the pure white soul below.
"i am going to ask you a question," the girl said. "you have never told me what was your business here, except that you had lost your money and that you had come into these parts to pick up something from the wreck. is everything gone, mr. darnley?"
"everything," ralph smiled, "save honour. my father trusted horace mayfield, and the result is that when i leave here i shall have to get my living. i don't quite know what i am going to do, but i am strong and capable and steady. i may say----"
"here is sir george at last," lady dashwood exclaimed. "what a hurry he seems to be in. mary, my dear, will you please to ring the bell and tell seddon we are ready for dinner. . . . why----"
sir george had come hurriedly into the room. the white tie had come unfastened and hung in two streamers down his shirt front, but he did not seem to notice it. his face was as white as his tie; his forehead was damp with moisture.
"i've lost them," he cried; "stolen out of my desk! all those precious papers! and now i am more in the power of that scoundrel mayfield than ever! i--i----"
he dropped into a chair and burst into a flood of maudlin, senile tears.
