Parlous Times: A Novel of Modern Diplomacy

"Lady Isabelle," continued Kent-Lauriston, "in appealing to the Secretary to save her husband, gave him the clue he was searching for; which resulted in his discovery of the friendly turn you had done the Lieutenant, in making him unconsciously, shall we say, particeps criminis?"

"Ah!"

"Have you seen Colonel Darcy to-day?"

She paused for a moment, considering, and then decided it was better to be straightforward, and replied:

"Not since yesterday morning. I went to see him last evening, but found him out."

"I know you did."

Miss Fitzgerald breathed a sigh of relief. It was well she had decided not to lie to this man.

"You're probably not aware, then," continued Kent-Lauriston, "that Stanley succeeded in opening the secret door last night, and obtained possession of Darcy's letter of instructions."

The Irish girl turned very white, looking as if she were going to faint.

"Then he knows everything," she whispered.

"Everything," replied her tormentor. "The details of the plot he has known for some time, being stationed here by the Legation to watch the Colonel – but it was not till Darcy was brought to book this morning, and in order to save himself, signed a written confession, that he really knew the extent to which you were incriminated."

She burst into tears. Kent-Lauriston proceeded unconcernedly with his story.

"The Colonel's chivalry is not of such a nature as would cause him to hesitate in shifting all the responsibility he could, on the shoulders of a woman."

She dried her tears at that, and her eyes fairly snapped.

"The fact," resumed Kent-Lauriston, "that Stanley had on several occasions tried to help you to clear yourself, and the fact that you'd persistently – well – not done so – made matters all the worse. In short, on these two counts alone, you had given evidence of an amount of deceit and cold-blooded calculation that completely upset even such an optimist as he. Still, I think he would have overlooked it, if properly managed – if that had been the worst."

"Can anything be worse?"

"Yes, for this last charge against you is not true."

"Go on."

"You placed yourself in Darcy's power. A clever woman, a really clever woman, my dear Miss Fitzgerald, would not have done that. It would be easy for him to manufacture circumstantial evidence, to back any lie he might choose to exploit, to your discredit. Say, for instance, that you were the prime mover in this plot, and that you went into it for a financial consideration, for three thousand pounds."

"But Bob never would – "

"Wouldn't he, when he was thirsting for revenge, believing that your careless threat against Lieutenant Kingsland had ruined his hopes."

"Did he do this?"

"He did, and that is why I'm here this morning in Mr. Stanley's place – commissioned to return to you your letters," and he handed her the packet.

"It's not true!" she cried. "Before Heaven, Mr. Kent-Lauriston, it is not true!"

"I know it's not true, for Darcy's confessed to me."

"But Mr. Stanley does not know."

"No."

"Then he must be told."

"If you tell him he'll fling prudence to the winds in an agony of remorse, and you'll have won the game."

"You mean he'll keep to his engagement?"

"I mean he'll marry you."

"And you dare to ask any woman to allow such a slander to live when she can deny it?"

"I ask you, for your own sake, for the reasons I've stated, for your future happiness, and as an escape from certain misery – to let him go."

"I tell you I love him."

"Then I ask you for his sake. A brilliant diplomatic career is just opening before him, as the result of the discovery of this plot. Is his government likely to repose confidence in him in the future, with you as his wife – a woman who has practised treason? His father would never receive you, and might disinherit him. Do you love this man so little that you wish to ruin him?"

"I tell you I love him – you do not understand."

"I understand that you love him in one of two ways. If it's a great love it's capable of sacrifice to prove its greatness. Show that it is so by giving him up. If it's any other sort of love it will not stand the strain to which you propose to subject it, and within six months after your marriage you'll realise that you've ruined two lives, and are yourself the chief sufferer. Come, prove that what you say is true, and save him from himself."

"But if I do, I do it at a fearful price. It means social ostracism."

"Not at all. Who will know of this charge against you? Four people at the most, and not one of them will ever speak of it. Darcy, who originated the lie, will, for obvious reasons, keep silent. Stanley's the soul of honour; he'd rather tear his tongue out than speak a word of it. I've proved my discretion through several generations, and Kingsland must be held in check by you."

"Why do you include Lieutenant Kingsland?"

"Because, I believe, he holds the only piece of evidence which could appear to substantiate Darcy's trumped-up lie."

"And that is?"

"The receipt for the forty thousand pounds in your name."

"And you wish me to ask Kingsland to proclaim my own shame!"

"I wish you to ask him to give that receipt to the Secretary."

"Now I see why you come to me, why you did not ruthlessly throw me over; your little plot had a weak point, and you needed my co-operation to complete my own degradation!"

"Miss Fitzgerald is fast becoming a diplomatist!"

"I'm a fool!"

"Pardon me, you are nearer wisdom than you've ever been in your life."

"If – I – do – this," she said very slowly, "you must help me to reinstate myself in the eyes of the world."

"I've told you it'll not be necessary."

"Bah! I know the world better than you do, with all your cleverness. Mine is a practical, not a theoretical, knowledge."

Kent-Lauriston bowed.

"They'll talk, no matter if it be truth or not. It will be believed. I must have a few questions answered in any event."

"Ask them."

"Who is Mr. Stanley to marry?"

"Madame Darcy."

"But – "

"Her husband has consented to the divorce."

"On what grounds?"

"Incompatibility of temper, I believe."

"So you think the Secretary will marry her?"

"I'll take charge of that matter."

"I know they love each other!" she exclaimed, passionately. "It was love at first sight. Then there was a misunderstanding. Now, one more question. This sum of forty thousand pounds?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"Who's to have it?"

"Darcy."

"What!"

"The Secretary told him he might draw it from the bank to-morrow, as, well – as compensation for turning State's evidence."

She laughed a harsh, unmusical laugh.

"You've won," she said. "I will do what you wish – for his sake."

"I believed that you would," he replied gravely, but one eyelid raised just a trifle. She saw it, and turned on him like a flash.

"No!" she cried, "it isn't for that reason! I've some good in me yet, some pride! I tell you, it's not your cleverness that has done this! I wouldn't surrender my good name for the sake of any man in the world! I wouldn't allow the breath of suspicion to linger in the minds of my friends, for the love of your friend, or any other weak fool, whom I can turn round my fingers! No! the reason I surrender is because your last words have told me how I can right myself before all the world, save one man; and I'll consent to sacrifice my reputation in his eyes, because I love him. But for all that, Robert Darcy cannot divorce the woman who bears his name."

"Why not?"

"Because she's not his wife."

"Not his wife! Who is his wife, then?"

"I am."

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE PRICE OF SILENCE

"You are Robert Darcy's wife," he said slowly, trying to adjust his ideas to this altered state of affairs. Then, as some comprehension of the results which would follow this declaration dawned upon him, he continued: —

"Why have you told me this?"

"Because I need your co-operation, and you're the only man I know whom I can trust to keep the secret."

"I've given you no pledge to do so."

"Quite true, and I've asked for none; but I've misread you sadly, if you can't keep a still tongue in your head, when the advantage to all concerned by so doing can be made clear to you."

"Can you prove your point?"

"Yes, even to your satisfaction."

"I'm all attention," he said.

"In the first place," she began, "you must understand that Colonel Darcy and I were secretly married four years ago, in Ireland. I'll show you my marriage certificate, to prove my words, when we return to the house. I always carry it with me in case of an emergency."

Kent-Lauriston nodded, and she continued: —

"The Colonel married me under the impression that I was an heiress. I married him because I thought I loved him. We both discovered our mistakes within the first few days. No one knew of the step we had taken, so we agreed to separate. This is a practical age. As Miss Fitzgerald I'd hosts of friends; as Mrs. Darcy, a girl who had made a worse than foolish marriage, I should have had none. The Colonel had expected his wife to support him; he was in no condition to support her. His regiment was ordered to India; if he resigned, his income was gone. We decided to keep our secret. I remained Miss Fitzgerald. He went to India. Three years later he was invalided home. Travelling for his health, he returned by way of South America. There he met Inez De Costa, and won her love. She combined the two things he most craved, position and wealth. He had heard nothing from me for many months. He allowed his inclinations to guide his reason, and, trusting that I was dead, or had done something foolish, he married her and returned to England. We met. My natural impulse was to denounce him, but sober second thought showed the futility of such a course. I'd nothing to gain; everything to lose. He sent me money. I returned it. Do you believe that?"

"I believe you implicitly," replied Kent-Lauriston.

"Then he came to see me; for I think he still loved me. He came, I say, fearfully at first, lest I should betray him. Then growing bolder, he threw off all reserve. Believing, fool that he was, because I didn't denounce him, that I could ever forget or forgive the wrong he'd done me. He mistook compliance for forgetfulness, even had the audacity to suggest that I, too, should marry.

"Then this scheme for defeating the treaty was proposed to him. He was willing enough to undertake it, for his second matrimonial venture had been a pecuniary failure, thanks to the wisdom of Señor De Costa in tying up his daughter's property; but he lacked the brains to carry it out, and, like the fool that he is, came to me for assistance. I had lulled his suspicions, and he needed a confederate. He even held out vague promises of a future for us both, as if I'd believe his attested oath, after what had passed! I consented to help him, and would have brought the matter to a successful issue, if it hadn't been for his stupidity. What did I care about the success or failure of his plot? It had put the man in my power, put him where I wanted to have him. At any time within the last six weeks I could have forced him to publicly recognise me, if need were."

"What prevented you from doing this?"

"I'd fallen in love with your friend. Yes, I admit it. It was weak, pitiably weak. At first I played with him, then too late I understood my own feelings."

"But it could have come to nothing."

"Can you suppose I didn't realise that keenly? Yet I hoped against hope that Darcy would die; that he'd be apprehended and imprisoned, and perish of the rigours of hard labour; anything that would set me free. Then I saw that Stanley loved Inez De Costa. It was an added pang, but it caused me to hesitate; because in taking my revenge, I should wreck both their lives."

"But you? Had you pity for Inez De Costa?"

"Yes, incomprehensible as it may seem to you; for I'd learned to loathe Darcy before he had committed bigamy. I never met her till that night at the Hyde Park Club, and she asked me if I knew her husband. Her husband! I pitied her from that moment. She'd done me no wrong. Why should I wreck her life, if it could be avoided?"

"And now?"

"Now you've solved the problem. Darcy won't dare to contest the suit for divorce. He'll be glad to get rid of her, because he can't control her money. Having the purse-strings, I can force him to recognise me as his wife, after the divorce has been granted. I shall have an assured position, and I can begin to pay back some of my debts," and her eyes flashed.

"And in all this, what is there to compel me to keep your secret?"

"Because the marriage between Inez De Costa and Mr. Stanley might never take place if they knew the truth. I'll keep the secret if you will. She's in no way to blame. At first I hated her; now that I've known her, my hate is turned to pity."

"You're right," said Kent-Lauriston. "I'll keep your secret inviolate."

"Now about the receipt for the forty thousand pounds."

"Yes?"

"I think Mr. Stanley had better see it, it'll save further awkwardness, but I must have it back. It's my one hold over Darcy, my one chance of righting myself."

"There's a receipt for the amount," said Kent-Lauriston, tearing out a leaf from his note-book, on which he wrote a few lines. "I'll be responsible for its return to you. I can't do less."

"Here comes Lieutenant Kingsland now," she said. "Don't say anything. I'll manage this affair."

"Jack!" she called, "come here a moment."

The young officer approached.

"Yes?" he said interrogatively.

"You needn't hesitate to speak before Mr. Kent-Lauriston," she assured him. "He's one of my best friends. You've not forgotten the promise which you made me, when I helped you about arranging your wedding, to do anything I might request?"

"No, and I'd do it if the occasion required," he replied heartily.

"Good," she said, "the occasion is here."

"What must I do?"

"You hold in your possession a receipt from the Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England for the deposit in my name of five chests belonging to Mr. Riddle."

"Yes, I've been meaning to give it to you."

"I wish you to give it to Mr. Stanley."

"To Mr. Stanley?"

"Yes."

"Is that all?"

"All, except that I charge you, on your honour, never to let him know I asked you to do this. Tell him only that I gave you the chests, and how you disposed of them, and place the receipt in his hands, as coming from yourself. Not a syllable about me, mind!"

"I'll follow your instructions literally; but how am I to have the opportunity of doing this?"

"Mr. Stanley will give you the opportunity, perhaps to-day. Then see that you do it."

"I promise."

"Swear."

"Well, I swear on my honour as an officer and a gentleman."

"Good. One more word. Before to-night you may change your feelings towards me, may feel absolved from all obligations to me; but whatever events occur, do not forget that you have sworn to do this on your honour as an officer and as a gentleman, without any mental reservations whatsoever, and to do neither less nor more than this."

"You can trust me, and if you think that anything my wife – "

"No! no! I do trust you. Go now, and give Mr. Stanley a chance to see you at once. You'll be serving me best so."

He left them wondering, and, she, turning to Kent-Lauriston, said: —

"I tell you it is the greatest proof of my affection for him; for what he thinks of me is worth all the criticism of the world and more. Oh, you may scoff! I know you think him too good for me!"

"Pardon me," interrupted Kent-Lauriston, taking off his hat, and bowing his head over her hand, which he held, "I have misunderstood you."

It was nearly two hours later that the Secretary found time, amidst the distractions of a hurried departure, for he had made his peace with his hostess and was leaving for town that afternoon, to redeem his promise to Lady Isabelle.

"Is Lieutenant Kingsland in the house?" he asked of the servant, who answered his summons.

"He's in the billiard-room, sir."

"Very well. Will you present my compliments to him, and ask him to be so kind as to come to my room for a few minutes?"

In less time than it takes to tell it, the young officer responded to the summons, saying as he entered: —

"Here I am. Can I do anything for you?"

"Perhaps. But I sent for you primarily for the purpose of doing you a favour."

"That sounds encouraging. By the way, did you know that your especial admiration, Darcy, was planning to vacate at the earliest opportunity?"

"Yes," replied the Secretary, drily. "I gave him leave to go, but he's to all intents and purposes under arrest."

"The devil!"

"Quite so, there's the devil to pay, and I'm afraid you may have to foot part of the bill, if you're not careful."

"What do you mean?" cried the Lieutenant, starting uneasily.

"I'll explain. That's why I sent for you; but you mustn't resent a certain inquisitiveness on my part. It's only for your good."

"Go on, go on!"

"You went to London a few days ago, and executed a commission for Darcy."

"No – for Belle Fitzgerald."

"It's the same thing."

"I think not. There were some chests containing stereopticon slides, and Belle asked me to put them in a bank for her."

"The Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England."

"Exactly."

"A good many slides, I imagine; rather heavy, weren't they?"

"Gad, I should think they were. It took two porters to lift each chest."

"I suppose you told the bank authorities what was in the chests?"

"No, I was told there was nothing to say. I was only to surrender them, and a sealed note, which would explain all."

"Did they give you a receipt for it?"

"Yes."

"Can anybody get the chests out?"

"No, only the person mentioned in the receipt."

"Have you still got the receipt?"

"Yes."

"Very good," said the Secretary. "I see your luck has not deserted you."

"And now," said Kingsland, "that I've answered all your questions, perhaps you'll tell me what you mean."

"This is what I mean," replied Stanley, handing him that first part of his Minister's letter which he had shown to Darcy.

The Lieutenant read it once, not understanding its purport; then again, his brow becoming wrinkled with anxiety; and yet again, with a very white face.

"What is it?" he gasped.

"It looks dangerously like treason, doesn't it?" returned the Secretary.

"But what is this bribe?"

"You ought to know that, as you carried it up to London, in sovereigns."

"What – how much was it?"

"Forty thousand pounds in gold."

"Good heavens!" said the Lieutenant, and mopped his brow. "But I didn't know anything about it!"

"That doesn't prevent you from having participated in one of the most rascally plots of your day and generation; from being a party in an attempt to overthrow, by the most open and shameless bribery, a treaty pending between the government you serve and mine."

"But, if this gets out, I'll be cashiered from the navy."

"Oh, I don't think they'd stop there," said the Secretary reassuringly. "Not with the proof of that receipt."

"Good Lord, I forgot that! Here, take it, will you?"

"Certainly. Suppose we open it and see if it proves my assertion," and, suiting the action to the word, he placed in the Lieutenant's shaking hands a receipt of deposit in the Victoria Street Branch of the Bank of England, by Miss Isabelle Fitzgerald, kindness of Lieutenant J. Kingsland, of forty thousand pounds.

"Can't you help me?" he asked.

"It rests entirely with me."

"Then you will?"

"Tell me all you know.

"But I don't know anything, except what I've told you. I give you my word as an officer and a gentleman, that I've been let into this affair in a most shameful manner, and that I'm entirely innocent, and ignorant of everything connected with it."

"I believe you, Lieutenant Kingsland."

"And you won't prosecute?"

"Not if you'll promise to drop this gang; they're a bad lot. Promise me you'll cut loose from them as soon as possible, for your wife's sake."

"I will," he said. "I will, old man. I can't thank you enough for what you've done."

"You've nothing to thank me for; I'm sure you are innocent, and so I don't consider the circumstantial evidence; but you might not be as lucky another time. I hope this will be a lesson to you. I need hardly caution you to silence," and he appeared to peruse some papers to ease the young officer's exit from the room.

That evening in the privacy of the library, the Lieutenant confided the news of his lucky escape to his wife, ending up with the question:

"Do you think the Fitzgerald really loves him?"

"My dear Jack," said Lady Isabelle, "a woman of that stamp does not know what love means, she's simply scheming to marry him for his money. How can people do such things?"

"I'm sure I don't know, my dear," replied her spouse, yawning. The subject was inopportune, and it bored him.

CHAPTER XL

THE PRICE OF A LIE

Stanley had made all his adieux, or at least all he wanted to make. He was tired with the exciting events of the day, and longed for a little peace and quiet before the exacting ordeal of a railway ride to London. He had given up the time-table as a Chinese puzzle. "What with the trains that go somewhere and those that don't," he protested, "I'm all at sea!" He, therefore, sent Kent-Lauriston ahead in the trap, and walked across the park to the station.

That gentleman had convinced him of the propriety of restoring the order for the forty thousand pounds to Miss Fitzgerald. He had pointed out that she was the rightful owner of the document, and that Darcy was an infernal rascal. The Secretary had acquiesced in his demand, and promised, should he not see Belle before he left, an interview he much wished to avoid, that he would mail it to her from the station.

He had first, however, a far more pleasant commission to perform, and a few minutes later was seated under the spreading branches of an old apple tree with Inez Darcy.

"I felt I must come and see you," he said. "I'm going away to-day, to London, on important business."

"Yes," she murmured. "You've been very good to me."

"Some time ago," he continued, "you did me the honour to entrust your affairs to my keeping, or, perhaps, to the keeping of the Legation."

"To your keeping, I should prefer."

"I fear that you may think I've been remiss, that other things have taken my mind off them, that I've, in short, forgotten them, but it is not so."

"I never doubted you."

"I hope to prove to you that you've not misplaced your confidence, in evidence of which I bring you this," and he handed her a paper.

"What is it?" she said.

"A line from your husband," she started, "which gives you your freedom."

"You mean a divorce?"

"Yes."

"But I do not understand."

"He agreed to consent to your obtaining such a decree on any ground you choose. I've decided on 'incompatibility of temper,' as being the least embarrassing to you. He will not appear to contest the suit when it is brought forward. This paper, signed in my presence, promises as much."

"My husband is a bad man, he would never have surrendered unless he was forced to do so; for he believes that by retaining the control of me, he may yet obtain control of my property."

"Perhaps he has seen the futility of these hopes."

"No, no, his own self-conceit would have blinded him to the possibility of being outwitted. You've forced this from him. How have you done so?"

"I had hoped you would not press me for these reasons. Can't you accept my assurance that whatever I've done, has been done in your interests alone."

"Don't think me ungrateful if I say no, but I've had to endure so many mysteries, that, for once, my great desire is to be clear of them."

"I hesitate to tell you, because it may give you pain."

"I am used to that and can bear it."

"Well, if you will have it. Colonel Darcy, as a result of his own actions, was placed in my power."

"You mean that it was your duty to have him arrested?"