Читать книгу Ambition's Slave - Fred M. White - Страница 16

XIV. WELL MET

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ELI PRICE looked up with a threatening scowl as his wife came back.

"You've been time enough!" he said. "Where did you get this stuff? And where's the change?"

Alice stammered out something. She had not the remotest idea where the brandy came from, and, as to the change, she had clean forgotten all about it. But with all his vices, Price was no lover of money for its own sake, and he could afford to be generous now, especially as his present supply represented no honest labour, nor the sweat of his brow.

"Left it on the counter!" he sneered. "You talk like a frightened rabbit. I'd rather have gone myself, but it's a bit too dangerous at present. Give me a glass and a box of matches. Now you can sit down and talk to your loving husband. Feels quite like old times, doesn't it? So you are slaving here just because you are too proud to let your mother know that you are still in the land of the living. Why, you might be rolling in luxury, and in a position to defy me by saying two words."

"You don't understand!" said Alice. "You never could understand."

"Well, perhaps not! I sent a telegram off just before I had the pleasure of seeing your sweet face again, and I shouldn't be surprised if a friend turns up to see me at any moment now. If he knocks, you cut into your bedroom and lock the door. If you listen to a single word—"

Price's face darkened again, and his eyes smouldered. "I have no desire to listen," Alice said with some spirit. "Have I not humiliating knowledge enough without desiring to learn the secrets of your dissolute companions? I shall go to bed."

"No, you won't. You won't do anything of the kind. If you do I shall know how to get you up again. You've got to play sentry, my girl, and don't you forget it. Give me some brandy."

For some time Price drank in silence. Presently there came a tap at the door, and Alice crossed the room and quietly disappeared. Despite his swagger, Price's heavy features bore a look of most unmistakable relief as a man in evening dress entered. With an air of used-up boredom he extended a slim white hand to his host.

"A cigar? Certainly," he said. "And brandy, but not much of it. Upon my word, my dear Eli, we are a most remarkable pair of individuals. If we had chosen the rugged paths of honesty—"

"You can have all the honesty for me," Price growled. "I tried it once. You got my telegram?"

"Yes, it was handed to me at the old shop. I have been a guest of his Majesty for the past six months, and only succeeded in bringing my stay to a finish yesterday. Quite a paltry affair, Eli."

"What are you calling yourself just at present?" Price asked.

"At present I am an Australian of means, the Honourable James Macgregor, squatter and all that. As I have been in Australia, it suits me very well. I've got chambers in Piccadilly, but no money. Money I must have before long or I shall be in a tight place. Fortunately I had practically worked out a little plant before his Majesty was so graciously pleased!"

"Oh, stow it," Price growled. "What a chap you are to jaw. Why are you always so desperately anxious for people to know that you were brought up a gentleman? I was too, but nobody would guess it."

"You're right there," Macgregor laughed. "My tongue does carry me away at times. But to revert to my little plant before his Majesty—all right, I'll get along. Yesterday and to-day I have been picking up the broken threads again and the plant's as good as ever. You're the very man I would have picked out to join me. It's a big thing."

Price nodded and smiled approvingly. He was badly in need of money himself and a trip to Paris—that paradise of the cosmopolitan scoundrel—appealed to his imagination.

"When do you want to try?" he asked.

"What's the matter with to-night?" Macgregor answered one question with another. "I've got the whole thing at my finger's ends. No men in the house except servants, a garden leading into a lonely lane behind and any amount of valuables lying about. I've lost my interior plan of the place, which is a pity as the fool of a lady's maid who was such a mine of information before has left. But you've only to make a slit in the lining of your coat and there you are. I can find the way into the house, swell in evening dress and all that kind of thing, and you can take the swag."

Price's eyes glistened. All his luck seemed to be tumbling into his lap in a heap. He was a man who above all things hated the inaction which looked like being inevitable to him for some days to come, and behold here was work to his hand and money wherewith to line his pockets.

"You can count me in," he said carelessly. "Where is the crib?"

"Forty-five, Royal Crescent. Not far from Hyde Park. Do you know it?"

For Price was lying back in his chair laughing silently. There was something horribly suggestive about that noiseless mirth. He laughed till he shook again and the tears began to trickle down his coarse cheeks.

"Pass it on," Macgregor suggested. "Don't keep it all to yourself. If there is anything wrong—"

"Oh, there's nothing wrong," Price replied, speaking with difficulty. "Only you amused me. It's one of those beautiful coincidences that people receive with incredulity, but which are happening every day of our lives. But it's a private matter that concerns myself, my noble Colonial, and you'll have to suppress that itching curiosity of yours. I'm going to laugh again."

Once more the man's frame shook with mirth, Macgregor paced the room impatiently.

"When you've quite done," he muttered, "we'll get to business."

"Oh, we'll get to business right enough. Only I can see a way to make the matter easier and reduce the danger to a minimum. You will oblige me, my dear Macgregor, by taking a short walk and meeting me at the corner of Duke Place in half an hour. If I am alone, why then come and speak to me. If I appear in the congenial rôle of a squire of dames, then please follow at a respectful distance. Au revoir but not adieu."

Macgregor disappeared discreetly. That Price had discovered some striking and original plan he felt certain. Usually he was morose enough, but when he became florid he was always pleased with himself and invariably saw his way quite clear.

Once alone he pitched his cigar into the fireplace and locked up the brandy bottle after a short but sharp struggle with his animal desires. He crept across to the bedroom and flung the door open suddenly. Alice had not been listening as he had half suspected, for she was lying down half asleep, worn out with fatigue and anxiety. She started as the light fell upon her face.

"Get up," Price said not unkindly. "I want a few words with you. Afterwards I may require you to accompany me for a little walk. Come along."

Alice followed him in the sitting-room without demur, tired and worn out as she was. She found herself answering in a vague and misty way, questions that turned upon her past and the happy days before this dark love had come into her life, and she had lived at home with her mother and Maude. Out of the mist came Price's voice and woke her up.

"So you could find your way in from the garden?" he asked.

"Oh, yes." Alice was lapsing into dreamland again. "I have done it more than once. One night I got locked out. There is a way of working the key in the garden gate. And there are steps up the ivy leading to the billiard-room. Some of the leaded lights are quite loose—I told mother and she said she would have it attended to, but she forgot. She forgets everything."

"The billiard-room is absolutely in the house?"

"Oh, yes, why do you ask the question?"

Alice looked up quickly, but Price's face was averted. He said something about flowers. Alice's mind went back to the dear old garden and her vague suspicions faded into the air. She talked on, but far more to herself than Price; her eyes were heavy with unshed tears. She was only half conscious of the fact that Price had risen and was shaking her by the shoulder.

"Come along," he said. "We are going for that little stroll I talked about."

"Are you going anywhere particular?" Alice asked.

"We are and we are not. Put on a shawl and a good thick veil if you have one. Now cut along and get ready."

Ambition's Slave

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