Читать книгу Netta - Fred M. White - Страница 12

Table of Contents

IT was a staggering, bitter blow for Netta. The penalty was a heavy one for losing her head for the fraction of a minute. She had been so desperately afraid of being discovered with those papers in her hand that she had forgotten to whom the great coat belonged, though with her own eyes she had actually seen Neil Jackman leave it on the table in the study next to Gordon Farmer's room.

But those very people were also after the same papers. At the instant it had struck Netta that she was doing a very clever thing. Even when Jackman had walked off with the coat she had not despaired. But now the outlook was hopeless. The only feeble ray of light Netta could see was that Jackman, being blind, might never discover what he had in the pocket of his overcoat. If the fine weather continued he might not wear it for weeks and weeks.

She must make an effort to repair the mischief she had done.

"Do you know," she said steadily, indeed she was surprised at her self-possession. "I feel a little guilty over the affair! I am sure that Jackman was out of doors last night to watch me leave. Of course, that is no new experience to me."

"With your reputation, I suppose not," Langworthy said politely.

"Indeed it is a great nuisance sometimes. Well, if Jackman had not gone out to see me off, he would never have met with his misfortune. I feel that I must do something for him, Sir John. If you happen to know where he has gone—"

"Hut, my dear young lady, I don't," Langworthy protested. "I fancy that Jackman is naturally of a taciturn and sullen disposition, qualities that probably recommended him to his late employer. I have seen him twice to-day, and could make nothing of him. All I understand is that some friend came for him with a view to taking the poor fellow to see a wonderful French doctor. When I asked about it just now I was practically told to mind my own business."

"Then he has gone to London?"

"That much I gathered. But that's rather a vague address, isn't it?"

Netta bitterly owned the truth of the suggestion.

She had done her best and had failed. Her only course was to see Reggie without delay, to-night, if possible. But that seemed out of the question. Netta was still seeking some way out when Lady Langworthy entered.

"Jack, I have been looking for you everywhere!" she exclaimed. "There is a note from Lord Bridlington. He is laid up with the gout, and wants you to take his place at the County Council to-morrow. He'd like to see you first—something about roads, I fancy. Will you run over?"

"I'll go now," said Langworthy, with a wry face. "I'll motor over. If I am late, as I probably shall be, don't sit up for me. It's a great nuisance, because I have been looking forward to hearing Miss Sherlock play."

The good-natured baronet hastened from the room, leaving his wife and Netta alone. For a long time the latter played whilst Lady Langworthy listened in dreamy delight. She seemed to be rapt in the beautiful music. Netta laid down her bow at length.

"I'll rest a while, if you don't mind," she said.

"Of course," Lady Langworthy cried. "How selfish of me! But I think I could go on listening to your playing for ever. Let me look at your fiddle."

Hilda Langworthy examined both violin and bow, to say nothing of the case, carefully. There were pockets in the case for resin and the like, and as one of them was laid bare by curious ringers a small oval photograph dropped out. Lady Langworthy took it up and dropped it with a cry.

"Reggie Masters," she said with a note of pain in her voice. "Where did you get this?"

The speaker turned away as if conscious that she had betrayed herself. Her face was very white, and Netta could see the muscles of her mouth quivering. A sudden inspiration came to her.

"That is the man I am engaged to," she said quietly. "Do you happen to know where he is to be found?"

Lady Langworthy shook her head sorrowfully. She was wandering restlessly about the room.

"Did he ever say anything about me?" she asked at length. "That he and I—in short that—"

"That he once loved you—yes? I think he called it an infatuation. Mind you, I should never have mentioned this unless you had found the photograph. I came here eagerly when I had the chance, because I wanted to see what you were like. Are you happy?"

Netta asked the question almost fiercely.

"I ought to be," she said. "I have one of the best husbands in the world, and I am devotedly attached to him. But though Jack is so kind and lovable, and so good, I am a little afraid of him. If I were to tell him the whole truth, for instance—"

The speaker paused in some confusion. Netta finished her sentence for her.

"The whole truth about Reggie Masters, for instance?" she suggested coldly.

"I dare not. Literally, I dare not," was the reply. "I see from your face that you deem me to be guilty of a great crime. But it is not true. Weak and foolish, and sinful, perhaps, but not criminal. The thing has haunted me night and day; it placed me in the power of a wicked man—"

"Who has no power over you any longer. Doesn't the death of Gordon Farmer make a difference?"

"You are a witch! How did you guess that? I tell you a great weight has been lifted from my mind, but that is not everything. Won't you try to believe that I am speaking the truth?"

It seemed impossible to look at this woman and feel I hat she was lying. And yet she was the cause of all the mischief and all the suffering of which Reggie Masters had been the victim.

"I am afraid that we are playing at cross purposes," Netta said coldly. "Doubtless for good reasons you refuse to give me your confidence; it is equally impossible for me to give you mine. At any rate, I am going to test your sincerity. There are reasons, mighty reasons, why I should go into Coalend to-night. I don't want anybody to know that I have been there, not even Sir John. Fortunately, he has gone out, and he is likely to be away till late. If you will let me have a motor, I can be back in a little over an hour. But the servants are not to know."

Lady Langworthy nodded and vanished. She came back presently saying that the motor would be ready at once; she had arranged all that.

"The late journey will arouse no suspicions," she said. "We often send the motor into Coalend as late as this with an important telegram. I make no curious inquiries as to your urgent errand, but I hope it means no harm to me."

"It means no harm to anybody living!" Netta cried. Outside came the sound of soft wheels on the gravel. In the hall Netta caught up a cloak and twisted a soft shawl round her head. Almost gaily she stepped into the great car.

"Drive to Dr. Manning's, in Coalend," she said. "I am sorry to bring you out so late, Steadman, but my business is really most important."