dr. armytage, despite lady oxted's round and uncompromising definition of him as a dexterous surgeon of sinister repute, proved himself during the next day or two to be far more intimately acquainted with the vital structure of the animal called man than is at all necessary for one who only concerns himself with dissection of artery and muscle, and the severing of bones. under his wise and beneficent care mr. francis rapidly rose again to his accustomed surface, and, no less testimony to his skill, harry once more looked the world squarely and courageously in the face. these inner and spiritual lesions require for their healing not only a skilful diagnosis, but a mind of delicate and certain touch, and of his two patients the doctor was inclined to think that harry made the more flattering recovery. during these days he kept uncle and nephew studiously apart; he would allow no visits to the sick room, and communication was limited to messages passed to and fro by the doctor himself. mr. francis, on the one hand, was bidden to keep his bed for three days, and quiet was insisted on; quiet, on the other hand, was sternly forbidden to[pg 336] harry. for him the prescription was to go out as much as possible, and busy himself with any employment—all were good—which he found congenial, and when indoors to apply himself slavishly to all the businesses which mr. francis had hitherto managed for him.
"oh, you have plenty to do," said the doctor to this harassed young gentleman; "go and do some of it."
but among these things which had to be done was an affair of difficulty, the letter which must be written to geoffrey. this, when he put his hand to it, harry found to be a black, bitter business, and sheet after sheet was begun and abandoned. had he realized it, he was attempting the impossible, for he had set himself to write a letter which should at once be thoroughly friendly, and yet spit on the allegations which his friend had made. the writer alone did not see that such a letter could not be written even by solomon, shakespeare, and the original serpent in conjunction. thus, for a couple of hours one evening harry wrote and tore, reducing wooden penholders to match wood, and quires of fair white paper to grist for the housemaid in her fire-lighting, yet still the envelope was no nearer to its postage stamp; and the dressing bell indeed showed him only a brimming waste-paper basket. he could not write this letter; here was the flat truth.
at this juncture the doctor entered the smoking room, which harry had chosen to be the[pg 337] arena of these futile endeavours, and a glance at his clouded face seemed enough for him.
"it is difficult, i admit," he said. "ah, you must not be offended with me, lord vail. i have guessed right. i know: we doctors have to be thought-readers. you have been making"—and his eye fell on the paper-basket—"many unsuccessful attempts to write to your friend. perhaps i ought to have saved you that trouble."
harry turned a dark face on him.
"i'm sure there is no secret about it," he said. "as like as not i should have told you. i can't write this letter, i just can't write it. yet i must. but when i begin to tell geoff the truth, that he has done a dastardly thing, and that i can never see him again, and that i love him just as much as ever—well—the whole thing becomes unreal at once."
"yes, those are hard words to a friend," said the doctor.
"i know, and i'm not hard. i love that chap, i tell you. you don't know him; so much the worse for you, for you don't know the best old fool god ever made. i'm just hungry to see him, and i've got to tell him that he is a base cad. oh, confound the whole round world! by the way, you said you should have spared me this trouble. what do you mean?"
dr. armytage took a chair close to the table where harry was failing to write.
"three days ago, lord vail, when i first arrived," he said, "i offered you a sleeping-draught,[pg 338] which you refused. i suggested that you refused it because you distrusted me. tell me now, was i right in suggesting that?"
harry looked straight, as his wont was, at the dark, secret face he had once thought so sinister. to him now it appeared only sad.
"what has that got to do with it?" he asked.
"was that suggestion right?" repeated the doctor.
"yes, quite," said the other frankly.
"just so. eventually you did trust me, or, at any rate, behaved as if you did, and you found your confidence not misplaced. you awoke, in fact, after a good night's rest. and now, if you grant that, you owe me the benefit of a doubt."
"well?"
"i ask you to trust me again," said the doctor, "for the fact is i have already written to your friend myself, telling him not to expect a letter from you yet. i knew, i was completely certain, that you would find it impossible to write to him, and it seemed to me that if i wrote at once, as i did, it would save him some anxious hours. that is my confession."
again harry tried to feel what he told himself was a just resentment, but the sentiment that he raised in his mind was but a phantom. he ought, so he considered, to feel that his liberty was being tampered with, but this curiously self-possessed man appeared to have the gift of impeccable meddling. then he laughed outright.
"i simply do not know what to say to you,"[pg 339] he said. "you take it upon yourself to interfere with affairs of mine that do not in the least concern you, and yet i don't really resent it."
"in that you are quite wise," remarked the doctor.
harry threw down his pen.
"and not content with that, you patronize me, and pat me on the back," he said. "i am not at all sure that i intend to stand it. pray, if i may so far interfere in your concerns, what did you say to geoffrey?" he asked, with a show of spirit.
"i told him not to expect a letter from you yet," said the doctor. "i told him not to be impatient and wish for knots to be cut as long as there was the faintest hope of their being unravelled."
"ah, there is not the faintest," broke in harry.
"you too, then, acquiesce in the cutting. i hope your friend is more reasonable; less he can not be. you have no right to say, while the thing is yet so recent, that a reconciliation of your friend with mr. francis is impossible. and if that were possible it would comprehend, i take it, a reconciliation with you."
"oh, you don't know geoff, i tell you," said harry. "he will never apologize. he is not given to rush at conclusions; but when he has concluded, he is more obstinate than all the beasts that perish. you waste your trouble if you expect him to recant."
[pg 340]
the doctor rose.
"i repeat, it is too early to expect anything," he said. "a difficult situation takes time. if it does not take time, it is not difficult. be sure of that. one thing alone i was certain of: that any letter from you, believing as you do so utterly in your uncle's absolute innocence—if i could put your feelings more strongly i would—could not tend to mend matters. it would only accentuate your estrangement—temporary, i hope—with your friend. and now have i your pardon for doing what i have done?"
"not yet," said harry. "what else did you say?"
"i said that you were as safe here as in the bank of england. i asked him to be reasonable. supposing his wild surmise was true, and that you had a very bitter enemy of your own blood in this house, how could he be so foolhardy as to make another attempt on you just now, when three had so conspicuously miscarried, and such suspicious circumstances were in mr. langham's knowledge? for the circumstances," he said, looking gravely at harry, "were suspicious."
"i know they were," said harry. "poor old geoff! well, i couldn't have written that letter if i had tried till midnight."
he got up also, as the dinner gong sounded.
"that's dinner, and we are not yet dressed," he said. "but you were quite right to do it for me, dr. armytage," and frankness became him infinitely better than reserve. "and you might[pg 341] have added that i have a very good friend here, who looks after both my uncle and myself."
dr. armytage smiled rather grimly.
"i came to the conclusion that such a statement would not have increased his confidence," he said, "either in me or in your safety. there is no sense in gushing, particularly if one gushes about one's self."
that night, when the doctor made his last visit to mr. francis, he brought him as usual some small, affectionate message from harry, and mr. francis yawned, for he was sleepy, and made no immediate reply. but in a moment or two he roused himself.
"my love, my very best love," he said, "and any convincing tenderness you please. by the way, how do you and he get on together? is it very trying? i am afraid so. but it is of the utmost importance that you should gain harry's confidence, that you should make him trust you."
"so you told me, and, without boasting, i think i may say that i have been fairly successful. i made a good beginning, you know, the first night i was here."
"ah, yes, that sleeping-draught," said mr. francis appreciatively. "a little bromide of potassium you told me; quite simple and harmless. a charming drug, and an ingenious idea. yes, harry's consenting to take a sleeping-draught from your hands certainly showed that if he was disposed not to trust you, he was fighting[pg 342] that inclination. and you have improved your advantage, dear godfrey?"
"yes, we are on excellent terms. and, to tell you the truth, i do not find it trying at all. your nephew is both amiable and intelligent."
"poor harry!" said mr. francis softly. "yes, his very simplicity has a certain charm, has it not? it is also a very convenient quality. well, i am to go to sleep i suppose: i sleep so well now! and you intend to take me to london at the end of the week?"
"that was the proposal," said the doctor.
"and you, being an autocrat—for, indeed, doctors are the only autocrats we have left—insist on it. i assure you it will be the best plan. that young cub who left the other day has wits of a kind; he is rather sharp. it will quiet his outrageous suspicions, i think, if i leave vail soon. i hope harry will not be very dull alone," he added.
"he may not choose to stop here," said the doctor.
"it does not matter," said mr. francis. "he is certain to come back here before his marriage, to see that the house is quite ready to receive them after their honeymoon—'honeymoon! honeymoon!'" he repeated. "i count on that. by the way, do you call him harry yet?"
"no."
"dear godfrey, how short and glum you are! i do not suppose i have had a monosyllabic reply[pg 343] for ten years: they are so unnecessarily curt. but try to call him by his christian name: it produces an admirable effect, and so cheaply. practise saying, 'harry, harry,' when you are alone. you will find it makes it easier. ah, well, i must go to sleep. good-night, my dear man."
it was therefore definitely settled and announced to harry that mr. francis and the doctor would leave for london at the end of the week. he would be the better, so said the doctor, for a change, for the very dark and autumnal weather which had settled down on vail during the last day or two was a depressing influence, and he strongly recommended a week in london, where the little arrangements and excitements incident to settling into the flat would keep him agreeably occupied.
mr. francis dined downstairs on the last night before he left, and seemed his buoyant self again. during the afternoon incessant bubblings from the flute had come from his room, and that sound had been to harry like the voice of some familiar friend returned. his uncle indeed had playfully prefaced his own entry into the hall, after the gong had sounded, with the tune of "see, the conquering hero comes," a little thin on this solo instrument, but he had marched in time to it with an incomparable gaiety, with foot high-lifted and a pointed toe.
"and you, dear harry," he asked, as they had seated themselves, after mr. francis had said grace, "what are your plans? i was half inclined[pg 344] to rebel when our dear autocrat gave me my marching orders, and i heard that you, perhaps, would be left here alone, but my disaffection was quelled by a look. has godfrey given you any of his quelling looks, i wonder? but how long do you stop here?"
"three or four days only, now," said harry. "then i go to the oxteds' for a week, and come back here again by the beginning of november for ten days. after that, london till the 15th."
"dear fellow, so near as that, so near as that, is it?" said mr. francis. "ah, harry!"—and he held out his hand to him. then, seeing that the serious note was slightly embarrassing to the young man:
"ah! good templeton has given us the luck again!" he cried, changing the subject abruptly. "upon my word, the thing seems to grow brighter and more dazzling each time i see it.—this nephew of mine, i must tell you, my dear godfrey, is a very foolish fellow in some ways. he almost—i may say almost, harry—believes in that old legend. really, a remarkable survival of superstition among the educated classes. i shall write to the psychical research about it. that amiable society collects nightmares and superstitions, i am told. a quaint hobby."
"i have drunk obediently to the luck, night after night, have i not, harry?" said the doctor.
"of course. it is a rule of the house. by the way, let us set that point at rest. dr. armytage told me that you believed in the luck, uncle[pg 345] francis. i simply couldn't credit it. you have always ridiculed me for even pretending to."
mr. francis laughed.
"harry, that medical man can not keep a secret," he said. "no, my dear boy, i am only joking, but it is quite true that i have found myself wondering, after your extraordinary series of accidents early in this year, whether it were possible that there could be anything in it."
he paused a moment, and then went on quite naturally. "and these last three horrible escapes of yours," he said. "how strange! the ice house, frost; the gun, fire; the sluice, rain. there are more things in heaven and earth— well, well!"
here was proof, at any rate, that mr. francis knew how entirely harry trusted him, and though at the thought of that awful scene between geoffrey and his uncle the lad was startled for the moment at so direct a mention of that which had caused it, it was something of a relief to know that the subject did not cause mr. francis pain.
"yes, taken all round, it would be sufficient to convince the most hardened sceptic," he said. "poor old luck! what an abominably futile business it has made of it all!"
mr. francis suddenly covered his face with his hand.
"ah! it won't do to jest about," he said. "i spoke lightly, without thinking, but i find i can not quite stand it, dear harry. it is too recent, too terrible!"
[pg 346]
at this the talk veered to less intimate subjects, and before a couple of minutes were passed mr. francis was again in that exuberance of spirits which had made him play "see, the conquering hero comes." he had always some contribution apposite and gay to make to the conversation, capable of fantastic development and garnished with pleasant conceits. but for him the meal would have somewhat languished, for, whether it was that harry's old habit of reserve had returned to him, or that his thoughts were again a prey to the perplexities which his uncle's words might have recalled, he was unwontedly silent; while on the part of the doctor it seemed that a somewhat absent assent or dissent, and that only when directly appealed to, was all he had to give. but mr. francis was the man for the moment; he rose to the social emergency, and he told a hundred little anecdotes, diversified and amusing, and the growing silence of the other two was but a foil to the amazing agility of his tongue. but the most capacious measure is emptied at last, and about the time of dessert, spent and dropping shots, without effect, were the only remnant of that loquacious artillery. and it was in silence that the first glasses of port were poured out, and to break a notable hush that harry rose.
"the luck," he said. "i drink to the luck."
the doctor and mr. francis rose to the toast, the latter with too eager an alacrity. his napkin,[pg 347] which he had flung on the table, caught his glass, and the wine was spilled.
on the same day that the doctor and mr. francis were travelling up from vail, geoffrey was also going to london, in consequence of a strangely unexpected summons. he had duly received the doctor's letter a week ago, and this had been followed three days later by a shorter note, informing him that he and mr. francis were leaving vail for london on the thursday following, and asking if geoffrey would give the writer an opportunity of seeing him on a matter the importance of which could not be estimated. dr. armytage would be at his house that evening between five and seven, or, if these hours would not suit, he asked geoffrey to name any time which was convenient to him after their arrival in london, and he would make a point of being in then, laying any other engagement he might have aside. then followed a notable sentence:
"it occurs to me," wrote the doctor, "that you, following the thread of the suspicions of which lord vail has spoken to me, may see in this request a deep-laid scheme for insuring your presence in london on a given day and hour, and your certain absence from any other place. but i beg you to ask yourself why, if such were the case, i should have written to you at all. i may add that mr. francis vail and i reach paddington at 12.37 (midday) on thursday. be at the station, if you will, and assure yourself that we have left vail."
[pg 348]
so far the letter ran with the precision and orderliness of a despatch. then followed the signature, and after the signature a strange postscript:
"i must see you—i must see you," read geoffrey, and the writer's pen had spluttered with the underlining of the words.
no very long consideration was necessary, but knowing from lady oxted what he did of the doctor's antecedents, it was clearly possible that he might be placing himself in a position of some personal danger. to attempt to form any accurate idea of the scheme which might conceivably lie latent behind this letter was an idle task; but what he saw, and that without shadow of doubt, but with a certain exultation, was, that it was he above all men whom mr. francis had most reason to fear, and as long as he was at large with all the circumstantial evidence that he held, it was clearly very unlikely that any further attempt could be immediately contemplated against harry, for the risk would be prodigious. so far, then, it looked that this letter might be a bold and cunning scheme to get him too into the power of this hellish man. on the other hand, he could not neglect the possible chance: the letter might conceivably be genuinely inspired. looking at it coolly, as was his habit of mind, he thought that the balance of probability dipped to the sinister side: this dr. armytage was far more likely to be mr. francis's confederate than a disinterested doctor, or a foe. yet there was a certain touch of[pg 349] truth about the spluttering pen of the postscript, and geoffrey's debate was but of short duration.
then, with wonderment at his own slowness of wit, next moment the obvious safeguard struck him, and he telegraphed to the doctor at 32 wimpole street, saying that he would meet him at five o'clock at the junction of orchard street with oxford street. this was conveniently near to his own lodgings, where they could retire to hold conference if it appeared that there was reason for it, while it would be scarcely possible for any one, even with the legions of heir to back him, to spirit away an active young man from that populous thoroughfare without attracting public attention.
geoffrey arrived in london late in the forenoon, and spent a couple of hours in writing out with the most minute particulars the account of all those incidents on which his suspicions were founded, and which had led to his scene with mr. francis. this he sealed up in an envelope, and wrote directions on the outside that, in case nothing more was heard from him till monday, midday, it was to be opened. he put this into a larger envelope, addressed it with a short note to his father, and posted it. finally, before he set out for his rendezvous at the corner of orchard street, he slipped a loaded revolver into his breast pocket, to guard against the very remote possibility of his being attacked in his own rooms. its presence there, though not unattended with qualms, for he was something of a stranger to this[pg 350] branch of firearms, yet filled him with a secret glee of adventure.
punctually at five he arrived at the appointed corner, and a few moments' observation of the shifting and changing crowd was enough to enable him to single out a man spare and dark who also lingered there. it was evident, too, that he had observed geoffrey, no less than geoffrey had observed him, and, on the third or fourth occasion that their eyes met, the man crossed the street to him.
"mr. geoffrey langham?" he asked, and to geoff's silent gesture of assent, "i am dr. armytage."
they turned and walked a little way down oxford street before either spoke again. then said the doctor:
"your plan was reasonable, that we should meet in some public place: it was natural that you should not wish to trust yourself to my house. but i would suggest that if we are to talk in public, we get into a hansom, or i should prefer a four-wheeler."
"why?" asked geoffrey.
"because we are dealing, or i hope shall soon be dealing, with a very subtle man, who for aught i know may be watching either you or me."
geoffrey wheeled round quickly.
"come to my rooms in orchard street," he said—"no. 12. i will walk on the other side of the road."
the distance was but a few dozen yards, and[pg 351] three minutes later the two were in the sitting room, which overlooked the street. geoffrey pointed to a seat, and waited for the other to open the conversation.
"i repeat," said the doctor, "that your amendment of our plan was reasonable, for you have little reason to trust me."
"it seems to me so," said geoffrey. "i thought it wise to take that and other precautions. but it was you who asked for this interview. kindly tell me what you have to say."
"it is told in two words," said dr. armytage. "your friend lord vail has, by almost a miracle of luck, escaped from three well-devised schemes against his life. thrice has mr. francis failed. we can not expect such luck to continue."
not a muscle of geoffrey's face moved.
"you mean he will make another attempt," he said.
"he will certainly make another attempt."
geoffrey's hands were playing with a box of cigarettes on the table, opening and shutting the lid in a careful and purposeless manner.
"here, smoke," he said, "and give me a minute to think."
the doctor took a cigarette, lit it, and waited. he had smoked it half down before geoffrey spoke again.
"you see my position," he said at length. "there is no harm that i can see in my telling you that i know how intimate you are with mr. francis. i am wondering whether possibly i[pg 352] may be aiding him and you by seeing you; that is the truth. for your intimacy with mr. francis was very close as long as three-and-twenty years ago—at the time, let us say, of the violent death of harold harmsworth. that is so, i believe."
"certainly," said the doctor. "i received, i may tell you, two thousand pounds for the service i did mr. francis at the coroner's inquest."
geoffrey looked up quickly.
"ah! that sounds genuine," he said.
"about that you must decide for yourself," said the doctor.
geoffrey snapped down the lid of the cigarette box, took out of his coat pocket the revolver he had put there, and laid it on the table close to the doctor's hand.
"i have decided, you see, to trust you," he said. "perhaps my parting with that revolver is an unconvincing proof, for it would certainly be incautious of you to shoot me here and now, but i can think of nothing better. there it is, anyhow."
dr. armytage took up the revolver and opened it.
"six chambers, all loaded, i perceive," he said. "let me return it you as i received it. i have no use for it."
geoffrey took it from his hand and put it back in the table drawer.
"and now let us talk," he said.
an extraordinary look of relief crossed the[pg 353] doctor's face; the whole man seemed to brighten to the eye.
"i hardly dared hope you would trust me," he said, "and your affection for your friend must have been strong. but let us waste no more time. yes, your suspicions were quite correct. harry vail has no bitterer enemy than his uncle. he has made no less than three attempts to put him out of the way."
"you speak as if you were sure of it," said geoffrey.
"i am; but what evidence have we? it would not take a barrister ten minutes to tear it to shreds, for it is entirely circumstantial, and weak at that. there is the devilish cunning of the man. again, if we are to save harry, we must save him in spite of himself, for he believes not a word of it, and we deal with a man who is cunning and utterly unscrupulous—far more cunning, probably, than you and i put together. but we have one great advantage over him."
"what is that?" asked geoffrey.
"the fact that he counts on me to be his accomplice. if we succeed, i am to have ten thousand pounds."
at these words, distrust again flared high in geoffrey's mind, refusing to be darkened—a beacon.
"god give you your portion in hell," he cried, "if you are playing a double game!"
the doctor showed no sign of resentment, but he did not immediately reply.
[pg 354]
"this will not do at all," he said at length. "either you trust me, or you do not. if you do not, i will go: we are but wasting words. i may remind you, however, that if i am playing a double game, my conduct in wishing to see you is utterly unaccountable; but if not, that it will be barely possible for me alone to save your friend, for it is my strong impression that mr. francis's man—sanders, is it not?—will help his master. come, which is it to be?"
"yes, i trust you," said geoffrey in great agitation. "i ought never to have said that. please go on."
"i can give you no certain details yet," said the doctor, "but the attempt will be made between harry's return to vail from lady oxted's, where he goes in a few days, and his moving to london before the marriage. so much i have gathered from mr. francis. it is, you will understand, of the utmost importance to him that the marriage should never be consummated. more exactly than that i can not tell you, but i want you, in any case, to hold yourself in readiness to come to vail, or anywhere else, at a moment's notice, and at a word from me."
"yes, i promise that," said geoffrey.
"the particulars i can not give you," continued the doctor, "for i do not yet know them; indeed, i doubt whether mr. francis has yet worked them out himself. but to-day, as we were coming up in the train, he blew on his flute a long time, and then said suddenly to me: 'i have[pg 355] a new hobby; the properties of certain powerful drugs. we will have some great talks about drugs when we are in london.' from this i gathered that he means to poison harry."
"the damned old man!" exclaimed geoffrey.
"precisely. now, his motive you know or guess: he is heir. but from what i have seen of him lately, he sets less store by that than on the fact that harry's death will give him the luck."
"the luck! he doesn't believe in the luck!" cried geoffrey. "i have heard him laugh at harry a hundred times for pretending to believe in it."
"there you are wrong," said the doctor. "i should be rather tempted to say that the luck is the only thing in the world he does believe in. i tell you this for an obvious reason: he is not sane on the point; we are dealing with a monomaniac, and he is more to be feared than a sane man. he will run greater risks to secure his end. but it is late: i must go. during the next week i shall certainly learn the whole of mr. francis's plans, for i shall refuse to help him in any way unless i know all. good-bye. you will please stop in london till you hear from me."
geoffrey got up.
"tell me," he said, "when did you determine to help harry?"
"i do not think that if i told you, you would trust me the more," said the doctor.
"i assure you i shall not trust you less."
[pg 356]
dr. armytage took his umbrella from the corner.
"a fortnight ago only," he said, "on the day i first saw harry. think of me as you will, so long as you do what i tell you. i really care very little about anything else, even whether you trust or mistrust me, provided only you behave as if you trusted me. yes, till i saw him, and spent the evening with him on the day you left; prescribed for his agitated nerves, and gave him a sleeping-draught——"
"i'm glad i didn't know that before," said geoffrey frankly.
"it might certainly have caused you some uneasiness. but not till then did i decide to save him if i could, and not to do—the other thing. and every day strengthened my decision, and the thought of the ten thousand pounds grew less attractive. my reason is hard to give you, convincingly, at any rate. it was due, perhaps, to a great charm and attractiveness which lord vail possesses; it was due, perhaps, to an idea in my own mind that i would not commit murder. that sounds a little crude, does it not? but we are dealing with crudities. good-bye again."
geoffrey held out his hand.
"i trust you," he said, "quite completely. and so, it seems, does harry. i do not believe that we are both wrong."
dr. armytage turned quickly away without a word. a moment afterward the street door banged behind him.
