The Runaways: A New and Original Story

He carelessly watched the traffic on the Embankment, and the people lounging on the seats in the gardens below. London is always busy, and yet it contains myriads of human beings whose sole occupation is to kill time.

At the dinner-hour he went downstairs. His father informed him he had engaged a table, and the waiter pointed it out to him. He crossed over and sat down. In a few minutes he saw his father enter the room, and almost fell off his chair in astonishment and dismay as he saw Warren Courtly and Irene with him.

"It is a little surprise I have not exactly prepared for you, but am giving you," said the Squire, smiling. "I have explained to them that we are quite reconciled, and that there are no differences between us."

Ulick shook hands mechanically with Warren Courtly, who felt very uneasy, and Irene, who did not conceal the pleasure it gave her to see him again.

"It is the best news I have heard since you left Hazelwell," she said. "I thought it too good to be true when your father told me of your meeting and reconciliation at Newmarket."

"And I am more than pleased to see you again," he said, earnestly. "You have not quite forgotten your old playmate and companion?"

"Oh, no; I never can forget those days; they were the happiest of my life."

She did not think what she was saying until Warren said abruptly —

"That is not very complimentary to me."

Irene coloured slightly as she replied —

"You understand what I mean."

"And heard what you said," he replied.

"I am very glad Irene was so happy at Hazelwell," said the Squire. "We always tried to make her so."

The conversation during dinner-time seemed to drag; there was a feeling of restraint between the three younger members of the party which the Squire, who was overflowing with good-humoured happiness, failed to notice. He talked freely and well, and Ulick was glad of it. From time to time he glanced at Warren and thought —

"If he knew I had met Janet, and seen him in Mrs. Hoffman's house at Feltham, I wonder what he would do? He knows he has done me an irreparable injury, and yet it does not seem to trouble him much."

After dinner Warren Courtly said he had letters to write, and asked to be excused for half an hour.

The Squire went into the reading-room, "Just for a quiet doze," he said, smiling, and Irene and Ulick were left alone. They went on to the balcony and sat down. It was a beautiful May evening, much warmer than usual, and the air was refreshing after the heat of the room.

"You cannot know how the Squire has suffered during your absence," she said, after a few remarks on various topics. "Do you not think he is older, I mean has aged very much?"

"Yes," replied Ulick, "and I am very sorry if I have been the cause. Still, I could not have acted otherwise. I would do it again if necessary."

She wished to ask him if his father believed in him, knew he had accused him unjustly, but it was a delicate matter. Still, they were old friends, and there could be no harm in it.

"Is the Squire satisfied he made a mistake, and he was in the wrong?" she asked.

"Yes, I have that satisfaction, although I cannot return to Hazelwell at present."

"Not return!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "What reason can there possibly be for that?"

"A grave reason which I cannot explain to you, but which my father accepts, although he fails to understand; may I ask you to do the same?"

"Indeed, yes; but I am very, very sorry you are not coming home," she said.

"I am glad to hear you say that," he replied, earnestly, "because I value your good opinion very much, almost as much, if not quite, as my father's."

"You have always had my good opinion," she said, softly.

"Then you never believed me guilty?" he asked, eagerly.

She hesitated; she had at one time thought he might have become entangled with Janet. She would not deny it now.

"You must forgive me, Ulick," she said. "Remember, I heard the story from the Squire, and I had no opportunity of hearing your side. What else could I do? I confess I thought as he thought, but I no longer do so now you are reconciled."

"You thought me capable of stealing Janet Todd from her father, from Eli, who would have willingly done anything for me?" he said, reproachfully.

"Not that; no, not that," she replied. "I never gave that a thought."

"You did not believe Janet went away with me?"

"No, I was sure she did not."

He looked surprised, she spoke so certainly.

"Why were you sure?"

"Because Eli told me you left the house alone, when Janet was in her room."

"How did he know, he left us alone together when he went out?"

"He was sure of it, and I believed what he told me," she said.

Ulick thought Eli must know more about Janet's disappearance than he cared to tell. He did not know where she was, but it was quite possible he knew with whom she ran away.

"He spoke the truth," said Ulick. "I did not injure Janet in any way, nor did she leave home with me."

"I wonder who she went with?" said Irene. "Have you any idea?"

"How can I possibly know?" he said, evasively.

"No, of course not," she replied. "But I cannot understand why you will not come back to Hazelwell."

Warren Courtly joined them. He heard his wife's last remark, and remarked —

"You can have no reason for remaining away now you and the Squire are reconciled."

"I have an excellent reason," said Ulick, looking him straight in the face in a manner that made him feel very uncomfortable.

CHAPTER XIV

A DISCOVERY IMMINENT

Warren Courtly remained in London, and his wife returned home with the Squire. Irene was accustomed to his frequent absences from the Manor, and became somewhat reconciled to being alone. The Squire, however, was exceedingly angry with him, and ventured to remonstrate, but received no satisfaction from the interview; on the contrary, it tended to widen the breach between them.

Ulick promised his father he would return to Hazelwell as soon as circumstances permitted, and the Squire stated his intention of coming at the end of the month to see the Saint run in the Coronation Cup at Epsom.

Warren Courtly had a serious quarrel with Felix Hoffman over the letter he wrote to Irene. Felix, however, was master of the situation, and told him so.

"I know who you are, and that you have a wife at Anselm Manor; I wonder how she would take it if I introduced her to Mrs. Warren?"

"You dare not, you scoundrel," said Warren. "I have never lived with Mrs. Warren, you know it."

"I know she is no more Mrs. Warren than I am, unless you have committed bigamy, which is not at all likely," he replied.

"If you say one word to my wife about Mrs. Warren and myself, you will repent it," said Warren Courtly.

"Shall I? Then you will have to make it worth my while to hold my tongue," replied Felix.

"Turning blackmailer, are you?" said Warren. "What is your price?"

"Fifty pounds will carry me over this month, and I promise not to trouble you if I have good luck with it."

"And supposing you have bad luck?"

"Then I am afraid I must trespass upon your generosity again," replied Felix.

"And how long will this sort of thing go on?"

"It all depends upon circumstances. I may not require your assistance for some time."

"And if I refuse your request?"

"Then I shall feel it my duty to enlighten Mrs. Courtly."

There was no way out of the fix, so he paid Felix Hoffman fifty pounds, thankful to be able to keep him quiet for a time, until he could think over what was best to be done.

Why did he not make a clean breast of it to Irene? His folly was committed before he married her, and she could not blame him for attending to Janet's wants. It was shameful to leave Ulick under suspicion. Then he thought, "But he is not under suspicion now. I wonder why he does not go home. It is very curious. He cannot have discovered anything about me, that is almost impossible."

Ulick was half inclined to tax Warren with being the cause of all the trouble, and would have done so in all probability had a favourable opportunity occurred. Fortunately it did not, or angry words might have passed between them, which would have led to a serious quarrel.

Felix Hoffman had bad luck, and a few days after he received the fifty pounds he lost it all, and more with it. He had no hesitation in asking for assistance, which Warren point-blank refused.

"I see what you intend doing," he said, "and I do not mean to be bled. I will face the consequences, and you can do your worst."

Felix Hoffman was taken by surprise at the unexpectedly bold front shown, and said, angrily —

"Very well, you know what will happen."

"But you do not," replied Warren.

"I have a very good idea."

"I have told my wife everything, what do you think of that?"

"I don't believe it," said Felix, quaking lest it should be true.

"You may please yourself about that," Warren answered. "I have no desire to speak to you again."

"Then out of my house Mrs. Warren, or whoever she is, goes neck and crop."

Warren laughed provokingly, as he replied —

"It is not your house, and if anyone goes it will be yourself. I shall have great pleasure in assisting your mother to get rid of you, and I am sure it would be a relief to her."

Felix Hoffman went home in a towering rage. He owed a lot of money, and knew if he did not pay up that the bookmakers would show him scant courtesy. Some of them he had not treated well in his more prosperous days, and they would only be too glad to retaliate.

Mrs. Hoffman knew her son's temper was none of the best, and she saw he was in a bad humour. He did not, however, mean to let her into his secret as to the identity of Mr. Warren, nor had he any desire that Janet should leave the house; on the contrary, now he had calmed down, he was sorry he hinted at such a thing to Mr. Courtly.

He cudgelled his brains as to which was the best way to obtain money. He repaid the loan of five pounds to Mrs. Courtly in order to inspire her with confidence in him; he would write again and ask for a loan of five-and-twenty pounds; it was not much but it would be useful as a stop-gap.

He was careful over the composition of the letter, and anxiously awaited a reply. It came, and there was no money enclosed.

Mrs. Courtly wrote to the effect that her husband had warned her against him as an unprincipled cheat. She explained that she had shown his former letters to him, and that was his comment upon them. She had no desire to hold further communication with him.

This roused Felix Hoffman, and his anger for a time mastered him. He would make Warren Courtly pay dearly for this, and give his wife a shock she would not get over for a long time.

Janet little thought, as she sat reading a novel, what was going on in the next room.

Felix seized pen and paper, and commenced writing furiously. He read the letter when finished, and found it ridiculous. He must write in a calmer, more methodical and convincing strain, or she would take no notice of it.

At the end of an hour he had composed something that suited him. He could give her some information about her husband, and his goings on when in London, that would open her eyes, but he must be well paid for it, and have a hundred pounds down. He hinted that there was a lady in the case who went under the name of Mrs. Warren. "She resides with my mother, whose address I will send you if you forward me the amount I have named. I assure you what I write is true, and you can prove it for your own satisfaction. I have seen Mr. Courtly there many times with the lady named." There was more to the same purpose. "If that does not fetch her, I'll never write another letter," he said, with satisfaction at the thought that he was firing a mine that would explode in a manner Warren Courtly little dreamed of.

When Irene received the letter she was at first inclined to tear it up, but curiosity prevailed, and she read it. Her cheeks burned with anger. How dare this scoundrel make such a charge against Warren. Whatever he might do in the way of gambling and spending money foolishly, she was sure he would not deceive her as this man suggested.

She read the letter again, and became more uneasy. It was within her power to find out whether he had told her a lie or otherwise. Was it a ruse to get a hundred pounds out of her? That could hardly be the case, because the writer gave his address and was known to Warren, who could bring him to book for slandering him. She thought over his constant absence from home, his frequent visits to London, even when no racing was going on, his increased expenditure. Might not a portion of the money go in the manner suggested? Irene had very little knowledge of such matters, yet she had sense enough to perceive that if Warren was entangled much money would be required. She became restless and excited. Something must be done, she could not exist in this state of suspense. If Warren had deceived her, she would never live with him again.

Eventually she wrote, enclosing the amount required, and requesting Mrs. Hoffman's address.

Felix was delighted at the success of his scheme, and sent the same address he had given before.

"My mother lives with me," he wrote, "and Mrs. Warren is in the house. She is nearly always at home; but if you call and she happens to be out, my mother will attend to you. Ask to see Mrs. Warren."

"Living in the same house," thought Irene, "then it must be true. Oh, how miserable I am."

She made arrangements to go to London, taking her maid with her, and requesting Mrs. Dixon to inform Mr. Maynard of her departure. "Tell him I shall stay at the Walton with Warren, and that we shall probably remain until after Epsom week."

She had no idea whether Warren was at the Walton, or otherwise, because he always wrote from his club. She thought of the scented paper on which he had once written, and her heart sank.

Mary Marley, her maid, was surprised, but delighted at the prospect of a visit to London, for it was some time since she had been there.

Irene was silent during the journey, and went to bed early after dinner. Her maid was surprised her master was not there, but she made no remark. She knew her place. Next day Irene went out alone. She drove to Waterloo and booked to Feltham. Arriving at the station, she asked for Mrs. Hoffman at the address given. The porter directed her, and looked at her admiringly as she left the station, as it was seldom he saw such a stylishly dressed lady, and wondered who she could be.

Irene's heart beat painfully fast as she walked slowly along the road. The house was not far from the station the porter told her, and she dreaded reaching it. She felt half inclined to turn back. Perhaps it was some cunning trap laid for her by this man. She had read of the mysterious disappearances of women, and the prospect was not pleasant. She did not lack courage, and as she had come so far she would not turn back.

She reached the house, opened the gate, and rang the bell. Mrs. Hoffman opened the door.

"Does Mrs. Warren live here?" asked Irene, dreading her answer.

"Yes. She is out doing a little shopping at present. Will you come in, my lady?" said Mrs. Hoffman, overwhelmed at the sight of such expensive raiment and at Irene's aristocratic features.

"Thank you, I am anxious to see her," she said, as she entered the house, feeling that her life was about to be shattered, and all her fears realised, before she left it again.

Mrs. Hoffman opened the door of the front room, and said —

"This is Mrs. Warren's sitting-room; I am sure she will not be long."

Irene thanked her and sat down. As she did not seem inclined to talk, Mrs. Hoffman discreetly withdrew, although she would dearly have loved to linger and gossip.

Irene looked round the room curiously. It was neatly furnished, but there was nothing to give her a clue as to the identity of its occupier, nor did she see anything indicative of Warren's frequent presence in the house. She was relieved at this; after all, there might be some mistake, and she could apologise and leave. She would willingly have given another hundred pounds to find out she had been deceived by Felix Hoffman, and allowed him to go scot free into the bargain.

Irene moved about the room looking at sundry books and papers lying about on the table. She saw no signs of work-basket, or anything to indicate that Mrs. Warren was industrious, and again her hopes sank.

Time passed slowly, and she commenced to feel uneasy. She was inclined to leave the house. She rang the bell and Mrs. Hoffman appeared.

"Do you think Mrs. Warren will be much longer?" she asked. "Perhaps I had better call again, but as I came from London I am anxious to see her."

"I expected her in before this," said Mrs. Hoffman. "Perhaps you had better wait as you have come so far."

"Will Mr. Warren be with her?"

"Oh, dear no; he seldom comes now," said Mrs. Hoffman.

Irene was thankful for this; it was a grain of comfort, and she anxiously caught at any straw.

"They do not live together," said the gossiping woman, "but the separation is by mutual consent. They quarrel occasionally when he is here, and he always seems glad to get away. Mrs. Warren is a nice lady, I like her very much, but of course you know her?"

"Of course," echoed Irene.

"And her husband?"

"Yes."

"I wonder who she is?" thought Mrs. Hoffman. "She's not in the same circle as Mrs. Warren, that's certain. How did she find out the address?"

"Mrs. Warren sent you her address I suppose?" asked Mrs. Hoffman.

"I knew it," was Irene's answer, "or I should not have been here."

Mrs. Hoffman felt it would be indiscreet to put further questions on this matter. She heard the gate click and said —

"I expect this is Mrs. Warren. I will mention you are here. What name, please, my lady?"

"Do not tell her anyone has called to see her," replied Irene, hastily, "it will be a pleasant surprise for her, as she does not expect me."

CHAPTER XV

THE RESULT OF THE DISCOVERY

"You have been a long time," said Mrs. Hoffman to Janet.

"I went for a walk through the Park; it is such a nice morning," she replied.

Irene heard her voice and started at the sound. It was familiar. Where had she heard it before? She felt she was on the verge of a startling discovery, and became agitated. She determined not to appear at a disadvantage, and therefore controlled her feelings.

Janet entered, unaware there was anyone in the room, and as Irene was hidden from view behind the opened door she did not see her. She walked to the table to put down a parcel and Irene saw her. At first she was too bewildered to speak; then she said sharply —

"Janet, what are you doing here?"

Janet Todd looked round, frightened and startled at the unexpected question. When she saw Irene she staggered back and sank into a chair, covered with shame and confusion. She made no answer, and Irene stood looking at her, still unable to grasp the full meaning of the situation.

"How is it you are living here?" she asked. "Are you a friend of Mrs. Hoffman or Mrs. Warren?"

Janet looked at her with tears in her eyes, and said, in a broken voice —

"Oh, why have you come here? Please go away and leave me; I am a miserable, wretched woman."

It was far from Irene's intention to leave her without learning the truth. The appearance of Janet was totally unexpected, and she could not account for it.

"I shall not leave you until you tell me why you are in this house, and who induced you to leave your home. I know it was not Mr. Maynard."

"It was not; he is a good, brave man, and would never wrong any woman," said Janet. "I cannot tell you why I am here – I dare not."

"I was told to ask for Mrs. Warren. Where is she?"

"Who told you to ask for her?"

"That does not matter." Then it suddenly occurred to her that Janet might be Mrs. Warren, and the thought seemed to freeze the blood in her veins. She came forward and, bending over her, said in a low voice —

"You are not Mrs. Warren, are you? Tell me you are not, Janet, for pity's sake."

She made no reply, but sobbed convulsively, her body shook, and she shivered painfully.

"Are you Mrs. Warren?" asked Irene again, in a tone which demanded an answer.

"Yes," faintly sobbed Janet.

"And Mr. Warren is my husband. Janet, how could you do me such a bitter wrong? I have always been your friend," said Irene.

Despite the trouble and confusion she was in, Janet saw there was a misunderstanding, and she must do all in her power to make the best of things.

"I did not wrong you," said Janet. "I ran away with Mr. Courtly before you were married to him. If there be any wrong, you did it to me by taking the place I ought to have occupied."

Irene started; Janet was putting a different complexion on the case.

"So it was my husband who induced you to leave your home?" she asked.

"Yes, and he promised to marry me."

"And you believed him?"

"Yes."

"Did you leave your father's house with him the night Mr. Maynard had the quarrel about you?"

"I did."

"You saw him that night?"

"Yes, and he told me everything, but forbid me to speak about it to the Squire. He was very angry, and said his father had no right to accuse him, and that he would not return to Hazelwell until he asked his forgiveness."

"Did you tell him you had arranged to leave home with Mr. Courtly?"

"No, I dare not; he would have told my father, and I should have been detained."

"And you have known all this time that suspicion rested upon Mr. Maynard, and that he was suspected of having gone away with you?" asked Irene.

"That is so, but he has forbidden me to speak about it."

"He knows you are here!" exclaimed Irene.

"Promise you will not mention it to anyone, and I will tell you all," said Janet.

Irene sat down and, as she did so, said —

"If I promise I will not mention what you tell me to anyone but my husband, will that satisfy you?"

"Why inform him?"

"Because I may find it necessary," said Irene.

"It will be better not to do so."

"I am the best judge of that," she replied.

Janet then gave Irene a full account of her life since leaving home with Warren Courtly, and how Ulick had called to see her, after accidentally catching sight of her in Feltham, and of his presence in the house when Warren Courtly called.

"Mr. Maynard knows all?" exclaimed Irene, in consternation.

"Everything," replied Janet, "and he was most anxious you should not discover the truth. He will be very angry if he finds out I have told you."

Then it was to save her pain and shame Ulick had allowed the blame to rest upon his shoulders, knowing at the same time her husband was guilty. Why had he done this for her sake? Her heart answered her, and she knew he loved her and that she loved him. What a mistake it had all been. The Squire had blundered, and Ulick had thrown away his chance of happiness and her own by his hasty conduct. It was done, and could not be undone, and she must bear it as well as she was able. How she wished Janet had told him, the night he left Hazelwell, that she was about to leave her home with Warren Courtly. Ulick would have prevented it, and everything would have been so different.

It was some time before she spoke; then she asked —

"What is my husband to you now?"

"Nothing," said Janet, colouring. "Since he married you we have lived entirely apart. You can believe what I say. I have no love for him, he has none for me. He makes me an allowance, which he has a right to do. We are not even good friends, and I do not care if I never see him again. I was a vain, foolish girl when I ran away with him, and have bitterly repented it ever since. Mr. Maynard told me my father was anxious for me to return home, and he strongly advised me to do so, until he discovered who Mr. Warren was; then for your sake he bade me keep silent and remain where I am."

Irene was somewhat relieved at this. From Janet's statement she gathered her husband had been faithful to her since their marriage, and that, to a great extent, condoned his offence towards herself, but she could not forgive him for so cowardly allowing the blame to rest upon Ulick. The contrast between the two came vividly before her. Her husband hiding his wrongs by sacrificing a friend; Ulick Maynard knowingly bearing the blame to shield her from sorrow and shame. She felt sorely tempted to go to Ulick, fling herself into his arms, and ask him to take her away from it all. She knew he would resist this temptation for her sake, and after a moment's consideration she also knew it was impossible for her to act in such a manner.