"if the secret were only my own i would not hesitate a moment," walter said. "be patient a little longer, my dearest girl. i am quite sure that ravenspur will tell you when the proper time comes. once we are on board the yacht there will be no occasion for further secrecy. another hour, and we shall be on our way. i am not a nervous man, but this thing is beginning to worry me."
vera persisted no further. the band had just ceased playing, and there was a sudden rush of guests into the garden, so that there was no opportunity for further privacy. a somewhat imperious dowager pounced down upon walter, with a request that he would find her daughter, and there was nothing for it but to obey. just for a moment vera stood in the midst of a laughing, chattering group of friends, then she managed to slip away unseen. she wanted to be alone and think this matter out.
she was just a little hurt that the others had not taken her into their confidence. still, perhaps lord ravenspur had acted in this way to save her pain and annoyance. he had always been kind and considerate to her. she owed him a deep debt of gratitude. and yet, up to a few moments ago, she had been prepared to turn her back upon her best friends and face the world alone. but she could not do that now. she would have to abandon her plans for the future. she would have to stay by lord ravenspur's side until this terrible danger was past. she was only a girl, and could not do much. still, that little she would do cheerfully.
vera was still busy with these painful thoughts when a footman came up and spoke to her. he had a note on a tray, which he handed to vera, with the intimation that there was no reply. so far as vera could tell, the handwriting was quite strange to her.
"who brought this?" she demanded.
"it was left by some strange man, miss," the servant said. "i was to give it to you at once, when you were alone, if possible."
the footman's manner was perfectly respectful. he discreetly said nothing of the sovereign which had accompanied the letter. vera turned away and broke the seal. she was in a somewhat secluded part of the garden now, but she had no difficulty in reading the letter with the aid of the sparkling points of flame which glimmered from the branches of the overhanging trees.
"my dear child (the letter ran),
"i want you to read this alone. i want you to promise me that it shall be shown to nobody. i daresay you will wonder why i write like this, after all these years, but i can only plead that circumstances, not myself, are alone to blame. i want you to believe that up till quite recently i was hardly aware of your existence. but all these things i can explain when we meet. naturally you will ask yourself who i am, and why i should venture to address you in this fashion. you will see presently.
"for the last eighteen years you have dwelt under the roof of lord ravenspur. you have passed as his ward, and i understand that he has taken the greatest care of you. this much goes to his credit. but that he behaved like a scoundrel at the outset i am prepared to prove. had it not been for him we should not have been parted all these years, and you would have had a better chance of making the acquaintance of your most unhappy mother.
"there, i have told the truth at length, and now you are aware who it is that thus addresses you. when we meet i shall be able to explain why i did nothing all these years--but i am wasting time. i know that you are going away tonight. i know that you may be out of london for some months. at present, circumstances do not permit me to claim my rights, or to interfere with your plans. you will go away this evening just as if nothing had happened, but before you go it is most imperative that i should see you, if only for half an hour. i have had this letter sent you by a trusty friend, who will not fail me. if you will go through the shrubbery at the back, to lady ringmar's house, you will find a pathway bordered with nut trees, which ends in a green gate, leading to the lane at the back of the house. there you will find another friend, who will bring you to me without delay. i give you my word i will not detain you more than half an hour. then you can return to your friends as if nothing had happened. they will be none the wiser. indeed, i will ask you not to mention this letter to them at all.
"i am not going to anticipate your refusal, for i know that you will come, especially when i sign myself
"your unhappy mother,
"carlotta flavio."
in a state of mind bordering on absolute bewilderment, vera read the letter again and again. it filled her with a pain which was closely akin to shame. so far as she could see, there was no mistaking the relationship which at one time had existed between the writer of the letter and lord ravenspur. a natural craving and desire to see her mother came over vera. she knew there was yet time to get away from lady ringmar's house and back again before the hour fixed for their departure. vera slipped the letter inside her dress, and with a firm, determined step strode off in the direction of the shrubbery. she came presently to the spot indicated in the letter. she looked eagerly around to see if anybody awaited her. there was the faint suggestion of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, and then, from a turn in the path, the figure of a man emerged. vera could see that he was exceedingly well turned out in evening dress. the dust coat he was wearing only partially concealed a slim built, athletic figure. for the rest, the man was good looking enough, and vera judged from his dark eyes and black moustache that he was a foreigner, doubtless some relation of her mother. he lifted his hat with great courtesy, and waited for the girl to speak.
"i am vera rayne," she said quite simply.
"i am already aware of that," the stranger replied. "i suppose you received the countess's letter? but you must have done so, otherwise you would not be here. you are prepared----"
"one moment," vera said. caution had suddenly returned to her, and there was something in the eager light in the man's eyes now that warned her to be careful. "i shall be glad if you will let me know who you are. what is your name, for instance?"
the gleam in the stranger's eyes deepened in intensity, a quick frown knitted his brows.
"can it in the least matter?" he demanded. "you have received the letter, and it is only for you to obey."
there was a peremptory ring in the speech which vera did not like at all. she realised that she was in a lonely part of the grounds, and that, in case of need, assistance was a long way off. she began to wish that she had been more prudent. after all, the whole thing might be a plot against her happiness, a scheme into which she had fallen without asking herself a single question. these doubts became something like certainties when the stranger strode past her and cut off all means of retreat.
"you are wasting my time," he said, "and time is precious tonight. it is only a matter of half an hour altogether, and then you will be back with your friends once more. if i were not anxious for your welfare do you suppose i would be here at all?"
the speaker's english was good enough, but vera did not fail to detect the foreign accent behind it. she was becoming afraid now. her heart was beating faster. she turned to see if assistance might not be at hand. but the thick belts of shrubs cut off all sounds. she could hear absolutely nothing in the direction of the house. and then there was another cause for fear. surely she could hear something creeping stealthily through the bushes. she listened again, and the footsteps seemed to grow closer. then the bushes parted, and a great black head and a pair of gleaming eyes emerged, followed by a long, heavy body that crept up to vera's side and rubbed against her dress. a cry of thankfulness escaped her.
"bruno!" she panted. "how did you get here?"
then she remembered the dog had followed them from park lane. he had been tied up by walter in the shrubbery, and the broken cord attached to his collar told the rest of the story. the great hound lifted his head. the glittering amber-coloured eyes were turned on the stranger, and a deep growl came from the depths of the dog's throat. the small man in evening dress stepped back.
"that dog is very dangerous," he stammered.
"not while i am here," vera said coldly, "though, perhaps if he met you here alone you might have cause for uneasiness. and now, sir, will you be so good as to tell me your name?"
"amati," the stranger said sullenly. "but what does it matter? you have made up your mind by this time whether you are coming with me or not. you know perfectly well, from the letter in your possession, that i am a messenger from your mother. i have a cab outside the lane, and i can take you to her at once. i pledge you my word that you shall be back in half an hour."
still vera hesitated. still her suspicions refused to be lulled.
"it would be an easy matter for my mother to have come here," she said. "there is not the slightest chance of being interrupted. and seeing that time is so short----"
the last words were inaudible, for there was a shrill whistle somewhere in the garden, and the dog by vera's side whined uneasily. as vera stooped to soothe him she twisted her handkerchief in the hound's collar. she recognised the whistle as walter's. then she gave a sign and the great beast bounded away.
