Guy Deverell Volume I Part 34

"I have no doubt, Jacques; as I told you, I know you to be a gentleman--I rely upon you."

M. Varbarriere looked rather grimly into his eye as he uttered this compliment; and when the polite little gentleman had left the room, M.

Varbarriere bethought him how very little he had to betray--how little he knew about him, his nephew, and his plans; and although he would not have liked his inquiries to be either baulked or disclosed, he could yet mentally snap his fingers at Monsieur.

CHAPTER XXVII.

M. Varbarriere talks a little more freely.

After his valet left him, M. Varbarriere did not descend, but remained in his dressing-room, thinking profoundly; and, after a while, he opened his pocket-book, and began to con over a number of figures, and a diagram to which these numbers seemed to refer.

Sometimes standing at the window, at others pacing the floor, and all the time engrossed by a calculation, like a man over a problem in mathematics.

For two or three minutes he had been thus engaged when Guy Strangways entered the room.

"Ho! young gentleman, why don't you read your prayer-book?" said the old man, with solemn waggery.

"I don't understand," said the young gentleman.

"No, you don't. I am the old sphynx, you see, and some of my riddles I can't make out, even myself. My faith! I have been puzzling my head till it aches over my notebook; and I saw you walking with that old lady, Lady Alice Redcliffe, up and down so affectionately. _There_ is another riddle! My faith! the house itself is an enigma. And Sir Jekyl--what do you think of _him_; is he going to marry?"

"To marry!" echoed Guy Strangways.

"Ay, to marry. I do not know, but he is so sly. We must not let him marry, you know; it would be so cruel to poor little Mademoiselle Beatrix--eh?"

Guy Strangways looked at him doubtingly.

"He is pretty old, you know, but so am I, and _older_, my faith! But I think he is making eyes at the _married_ ladies--eh?"

"I have not observed--perhaps so," answered Guy, carelessly. "He does walk and talk a great deal with that pretty Madame Maberly."

"Madame Maberly? Bah!" And M. Varbarriere's "bah" sounded like one of those long sneering slides played sometimes on a deep chord of a double ba.s.s. "No, no, it is that fine woman, Miladi Jane Lennox."

"Lady Jane! I fancied she did not like him. I mean that she positively _dis_liked him; and to say truth, I never saw, on his part, the slightest disposition to make himself agreeable."

"I do not judge by words or conduct--in presence of others those are easily controlled; it is when the eyes meet--you can't mistake. Bah! I knew the first evening we arrived. Now see, you must have your eyes about you, Guy. It is _your_ business, not mine. Very important to you, mon pet.i.t garcon; of no sort of imaginable consequence to me, except as your friend; therefore you shall watch and report to me. You understand?"

Guy flushed with a glow of shame and anger, and looked up with gleaming eyes, expecting to meet the deep-set observation of the old man. Had their eyes encountered, perhaps a quarrel would have resulted, and the fates and furies would have had the consequences in their hands; but M.

Varbarriere was at the moment reading his attorney's letter again. Guy looked out of the window, and thought resolutely.

"One duplicity I have committed. It is base enough to walk among these people masked, but to be a spy--_never_."

And he clenched his hand and pressed his foot upon the floor.

It was dreadful to know that these moral impossibilities were expected of him. It was terrible to feel that a rupture with his best, perhaps his only friend, was drawing slowly but surely on; but he was quite resolved. Nothing on earth could tempt him to the degradation of which his kinsman seemed to think so lightly.

Happily, perhaps, for the immediate continuance of their amicable relations, the thoughts of M. Varbarriere had taken a new turn, or rather reverted to the channel from which they had only for a few minutes diverged.

"You were walking with that old woman, Lady Alice Redcliffe. She seemed to talk a great deal. How did she interest you all that time?"

"To say truth, she did _not_ interest me all that time. She talked vaguely about family afflictions, and the death of her son; and she looked at me at first as if I were a brigand, and said I was very like some one whom she had lost."

"Then she's a friendly sort of old woman, at least on certain topics, and garrulous? Who's there? Oh! Jacques; very good, you need not stay."

The old gentleman was by this time making his toilet.

"Did she happen to mention a person named Gwynn, a housekeeper in her service?"

"No."

"I'm glad she is an affable old lady; we shall be sure to hear something useful," said the old gentleman, with an odd smile. "That housekeeper I must see and sift. They tell me she's impracticable; _they_ found her so. I shall see. While you live, Guy, do your own business; no one else will do it, be sure. I did mine, and I've got on."

The old gentleman, who was declaiming before the looking-gla.s.s in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves and crimson silk suspenders, brus.h.i.+ng up that pyramid of grizzled hair which added to the solemnity of his effect, now got into his black silk waistcoat. The dressing-bell had rung, and the candles had superseded daylight.

"You'll observe all I told you, Guy. Sir Jekyl shan't marry--he would grow what they call impracticable, like Madame Gwynn; Miss Beatrix, _she_ shan't marry either--it would make, perhaps, new difficulties; and you, I may as well tell you, _can't_ marry her. When you know the reasons you will see that such an event _could not be contemplated_. You understand?"

And he dropped his haircomb, with which he had been bestowing a last finish on his spire of hair, upon his dressing-table, with a slight emphasis.

"Therefore, Guy, you will understand you must not be a fool about that young lady; there are many others to speak to; and if you allow yourself to like her, you will be a miserable stripling till you forget her."

"There is no need, sir, to warn me; I have resolved to avoid any such feeling. I have sense enough to see that there are obstacles insurmountable to my ever cheris.h.i.+ng that ambition, and that I never could be regarded as worthy."

"Bravo! young man, that is what I like; you are as modest as the devil; and _here_, I can tell you, modesty, which is so often silly, is as wise as the serpent. You understand?"

The large-chested gentleman was now getting into his capacious coat, having b.u.t.toned his jewelled wrist-studs in; so he contemplated himself in the gla.s.s, with a touch and a pluck here and there.

"One word more, about that old woman. Talk to her all you please, and let _her_ talk--and talk _more_ than you, so much the better; but observe, she will question you about yourself and your connections, and one word you shall not answer; observe she learns nothing from you, that is, in the spirit of your solemn promise to me."

M. Varbarriere had addressed this peremptory reminder over his shoulder, and now retouched his perpendicular cone of hair, which waved upwards like a grey flame.

"Guy, you will be late," he called over his shoulder. "Come, my boy; we must not be walking in with the entremets."

And he plucked out that huge chased repeater, a Genevan masterpiece, which somehow harmonised, with his air of wealth and ma.s.siveness, and told him he had hut eight minutes left; and with an injunction to haste, which Guy, with a start, obeyed, this sable and somewhat mountainous figure swayed solemnly from the room.

"Who _is_ that Monsieur Varbarriere?" inquired Lady Alice of her host, as the company began to a.s.semble in the drawing-room, before that gentleman had made his appearance.

"I have not a notion."

"Are you serious? No, you're _not_ serious," served Lady Alice.

"I'm _always_ serious when I talk to you."

"Thank you. I'm sure that is meant for a compliment," said the old lady, curtly.

"And I a.s.sure you I mean what I say," continued Sir Jekyl, not minding the parenthesis. "I really don't know, except that he comes from France--rather a large place, you know--_where_ he comes from. I have not a notion what his business, calling, or trade may be."