A Gamble with Life Part 40

"I should like to twist the scoundrel's neck," he said to himself, with an ugly look upon his face. "I wonder what he expects to gain? Of course, he will never dare to make love to her. It might be a good thing if he did----"

Then his thoughts took another turn. Madeline was an American, and under the Stars and Stripes social considerations counted for very little.

Possibly she thought that Rufus Sterne was just as good as he, and if she did, heaven only knew what would happen.

"I was a fool not to make love to her at the first," he thought, with a scowl. "She thought no end of me then, and I could have married her right off. I'm sure I could, but father insisted that waiting was the game. Father was a fool, and I was a fool to listen to him."

The lights from the Hall windows began to glimmer through the trees, and he had spoken no word to her since they pa.s.sed through the lodge gates.

He had looked at her once or twice, but she kept her eyes straight in front of her. Did she expect he would scold her, he wondered? Had she begun to realise that her conduct was deserving of censure, or was she only annoyed that she had been seen?

The silence was becoming embarra.s.sing. He wished she would speak, and give him the opportunity of reply. To walk side by side like mutes at a funeral promised ill for the future.

"Are you tired, Madeline?" He was bound to say something, and one question would serve as well as another.

"Not in the least," and she quickened her steps to give point to her statement.

"Oh! please don't walk so fast," he said, in a tone of entreaty. "One can't talk when walking so fast."

"I don't want to talk."

"Why not, Madeline? You are not angry with me, surely?"

"Of course not. Why should I be?"

"I might be angry with you, but I'm not. I never could be angry with you, Madeline. You have no idea how much I think of you, and how much I appreciate you."

"Why might you be angry with me?" she asked, sharply, without turning her head.

The question almost staggered him for a moment. Yet as he had brought it upon himself he was bound to answer it.

"Well, you see," he said, desperately, "no man cares to see the woman he loves, and whom he expects to marry, walking out with another man, especially after dark."

"Oh, indeed!"

"But don't think I am angry with you, Madeline," he interposed, quickly.

"I could trust you anywhere."

"Then why did you come spying on me?" and she turned her eyes suddenly upon him.

"No, not spying on you, Madeline," he said, humbly; "that is not the right word to use. But I knew that fellow might be loitering about. He is always hanging about somewhere."

"Everybody hangs about somewhere--to quote your elegant phrase," she said, sharply.

"Yes, yes. But anybody can see what that fellow is after. He did you a service, there is no denying it, and now he is presuming on your good nature."

"In which way?"

"Well, in getting you to notice him and speak to him."

"Surely I can speak to anyone I choose?"

"Of course you can. But he is not the kind of man you would choose to speak to, but for the unfortunate accident."

"Why not?"

"Well, Madeline, there should be some sense of fitness in everything.

Here is a man without religion, who never goes to church or chapel, who has no sense of accountability or responsibility, who doesn't believe even in the Ten Commandments----"

"Yes, go on," she interjected, suddenly.

"Who at the present time," he continued, slowly, "is actually living by imposing on the credulity and good nature of other people."

"How so?"

"How so? He is spending money right and left, I am told, on some pretended invention, or discovery of his, which is to revolutionise one of the staple industries of the county. Of course, the whole thing is a fake. You may be quite sure of that. But whose money is he spending? He has none of his own. With his glib tongue I have no doubt he has imposed on a lot of people to lend him their savings. Honourable conduct, isn't it? Perhaps he is trying to interest you in his invention?"

"No, he is not."

"Not got sufficiently far yet. Oh, well, it will do you no harm to be warned in time."

"You take a charitable view of your neighbours, Gervase."

"My dear Madeline, charity is all right in its place. But in this world we must be guided by common-sense."

They had reached the house, and were standing facing each other to continue the conversation.

"Well?" she interrogated.

"You may lay it down as a general principle that a man who is an infidel is not to be trusted."

"For what reason?"

"Because he has no moral standard to hold him in check. You believe in the Bible and in the Commandments and in the teachings of the Church, and you live in obedience to what you believe. But he believes none of these things. He is bound by no commandment except as a matter of policy."

"May not a man have a moral instinct which he follows? Are all the unbelievers, all the doubters, all the sceptics, all the infidels--or whatever name you like to call them--are they all bad men?"

"I do not say that, Madeline. Besides, policy often holds them in check."

"And what holds you in check, Gervase? Is it your pa.s.sionate attachment to the right, or the fear of being found out?"

"I don't think that is quite a fair question," he said, uneasily. "I don't pretend to be a saint, though I do try to live like a Christian gentleman."

"And you think Mr. Sterne does not?"

"I have no wish to say all I think, or even to hint at what I know. A word to the wise is sufficient. I am sure you will be on your guard in the future."

"But you do hint at a great deal, Gervase, whether you know or not."

"It is because I love you, Madeline, and would s.h.i.+eld you from every harm."