Читать книгу The House of Mammon - Fred M. White - Страница 7

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As he stood in the blinding blaze of the electric light, the derelict glanced almost defiantly at Lugard. He strangled a sob in his throat. Cecil could see that his chest was heaving under the stress of powers and emotion, but there was no longer any passion in his eyes. For a minute or two the men stared at one another.

"We are safe from interruption?" the intruder asked.

"So far as I know, yes," Cecil responded. "I am more or less a stranger here, but I believe that everybody has gone to bed. But, for God's sake, Barr, be calm and don't look so forlorn. Do you suppose I am going to hand you over to justice?'"

The man shrugged his shoulders. He appeared to be utterly indifferent on that score.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "It would perhaps be doing me a kindness. What a queer, merciless world it is! Fancy meeting you here, of all people!"

"You know something of the house, then?"

"Of course, I do. I had the run of it at one time. I was by way of being an honored guest, Cecil. How easily the old name slips out. All the same, I beg your pardon. I have forfeited all right to speak to you in that familiar way."

A great wave of pity swept over Cecil Lugard.

"Why not?" he asked. "We were Damon and Pythias at one time. You were my greatest chum at school. I should never have got in the first class had it not been for you. At Oxford I shone in your reflected glory. I had the run of your cheque-book——"

"And you saved my life," Barr interrupted. "Those were brave days, Cecil."

"Ah, they were," Lugard said hurriedly. "But time is precious and the past has fled. What are you doing here at this time of night? Why have you come? Why are you dressed like a tramp?"

"Because I am a tramp," Barr said bitterly. "Because I have lost everything. The last time I saw you I said that I was going West. It was not true. I had had a terrible disappointment; I had ruined my life; I wanted to drop my old acquaintances. There was a task I had to do, and I set out to accomplish it. At the end of the year I was ruined. The scoundrel I meant to break was too cunning for me. He broke me instead. To keep up my courage I took to drink, and gradually became what I am. Drink was bad enough, but there was worse to come! Drugs! There are times when I am absolutely mad. Then I am dangerous. That is why the fellow is afraid of me. If he had been here to-night I should have killed him."

There was a brooding light in Barr's eyes as he spoke. He seemed to be communing more with himself than talking to Lugard. The latter started as a light dawned upon him.

"You expected to meet the man here."

Barr looked up as if he failed to catch the drift of the question.

"Whom else?" he asked. "It would have been too dangerous a job for London."

Lugard saw quite clearly now. The madman was after John Sairson. There was no longer room for any possible doubt. Here was another tangle in the mystery that had wrapped itself about the Grange. What had John Sairson done to arouse the bitter hatred in Barr's breast? What abominable crime had he committed? Cecil was conscious of impending evil. What the evil was Mrs. Sairson seemed to know, and perhaps Angela knew as well. The only one at the Grange actually in the dark was Nest. Well, if Cecil could help it, she was not going to suffer.

"What wrong has John Sairson done you?" he asked pointedly.

A smile trembled on Barr's lips. He was quick to see that he might go too far and give himself away. He knew nothing of Lugard's present movements and his presence was wholly unexpected.

"I am not aware that I mentioned Sairson's name," he said. "Anyway it is no business of yours."

"I am not so sure of that," Cecil retaliated. "Clearly it is my duty to detain you and hand you over to the police. From a strictly legal standpoint, friendship should not count. Tacitly you admit that you have come here in the dead of night to do the master of the house a mischief. That he is not here makes very little difference to the fact. As a guest——"

"Which I don't quite understand," Barr interrupted. "What are you doing at Marlton Grange?"

"I am John Sairson's guest. I came to look at the Dower House. Perhaps you——"

"Precisely; I intended to buy it at once, and had practically made all arrangements to do so. I, too, had my dreams of happiness at one time. Strange that you, of all people in the world, should build up your foundation on the ruin of my life. Will history repeat itself? Has that pretty child Nest grown up as sweet and beautiful as her sister Angela? As I see she has!"

For Cecil had flushed and started. Barr's face softened strangely.

"You can tell me if you like," he said. "There was a time when we had no secrets from each other. We used to discuss our youthful follies together. There was the girl in the fur toque—the one with the humming-bird in the front of it—and the girl who quoted Browning!"

"I hope to marry Nest Sairson," Cecil said with some dignity. "I met her some time ago at Berne. I could not ask her then because I had no money. When I came into my fortune I began to look for a comfortable house. My idea was to settle down in the neighborhood where my mother's people came from. By the merest accident I heard of the Dower House. You can imagine my astonishment when I got here."

"Nest always promised to be a beautiful woman," Barr said thoughtfully.

"She is beautiful," Cecil replied. "But that is only one of her charms. She is the most delightful girl in the world, and her manner is absolutely charming; in short, she in unspotted from the world. We hope to take up our residence at the Dower House."

"And you regard yourself as the most fortunate of men," said Barr gravely. "So I deemed myself at one time. There was no girl in the world like Angela. When I found that she cared for me I asked Fate for nothing better. I had money, a good position, a clean record, and, though I say it myself, was the husband that a good mother asks God for on her knees for her child. Ah! and she is a good mother, Cecil. When I told her, it might have been a dagger that I had plunged in her heart instead. Angela might have been a lamb led for the sacrifice. It was a house of sighs and tears, and I was puzzled and bewildered. My first idea was that there was insanity in the family—but it was worse than that."

The last words fell from Barr's lips in a hoarse whisper, and struck a cold chill in Cecil's heart.

"You are not alluding to consumption or cancer?"

"My dear fellow, I am not alluding to any physical or mental affliction at all," Barr said. "There are worse troubles than those, my friend, as you will discover in time."

"An illegal marriage? Or no marriage at all?"

"So far as I know, the Sairsons are man and wife. If it were otherwise I cannot imagine how Mrs. Sairson can remain under the roof. You will find that out for yourself."

"Then you will tell me nothing?"

"Not a word. When you discover everything, you will act for yourself. You love that little girl, and she loves you; it is not for a third person to interfere. You may be so infatuated that nothing matters. And I may kill John Sairson. That's what I came here to do to-night."

In spite of his noted courage, Lugard shuddered. The calmly-spoken words were full of menace. It was clear that Barr meant every word that he uttered. The sense of wrong was deep-seated. It was matter for congratulation that John Sairson was far away.

"Have you any money?"

"Only a few coppers," Barr answered. "I have not even my return ticket to London. When I started on my mission, it did not seem to me to be needed. If you will ask Sairson to come this way——"

"But he is not in the house. He is in London, and has telegraphed that he has been detained over the weekend. For your sake, as well as his, I am glad. I want to help you if I can, Jack; I want to set you on your legs again. Let me give you some money. Go to some respectable hotel and stay there for a day or two. I'll come and see you on Monday if you will send me your address. What do you say?"

Barr said nothing. He stood smiling dreamily, the ferocious gleam no longer in his eye. He seemed like a man utterly overpowered with a desire to sleep. He staggered to and fro as if physically exhausted, but with an effort pulled himself together.

"Perhaps you are right," he said. "I have had no sleep for nights. I shall be able to find a shake-down not far off. I know the neighborhood well. The happiest months of my life were spent here. You wouldn't think it to look at the wreck who stands before you, Cecil."

Lugard took some gold coins from his sovereign purse and passed them to Barr. He dropped them into his pocket without so much as a word of thanks. He turned from the elegance and luxury, the pictures and the gleaming lights, and strolled by Cecil's side to the solitude and darkness of the garden. The fresh air revived him instantly, and he walked with the ease of a man who knew where he was and what he was doing. Pausing presently, he drew a deep breath as he looked up at the silent powder of stars overhead.

"You're a good fellow, Cecil," he said, "and you deserve a better fate. It isn't for me to interfere, and I'm not going to; but if you consulted your own happiness, and the happiness of that little girl, you would leave the house with me now, and never come back. To let them think the worst of you would, in the long run, be the greatest kindness. I don't suppose I shall take the same view in the morning, but that is my opinion now while the glamor of the morphia is upon me. I'll let you know my address, and you can call and see me. Good-night!"

Without waiting for another word, Barr strode off down the drive and vanished in the darkness. For a long time Lugard stood looking after him. It was easier to think with the cool breath of the night breeze on his temples. He felt that the atmosphere of the house was almost stifling and confined. The house of all these mysteries oppressed him. Barr knew the secret and yet he had declined to reveal it. What could be worse than the things he had mentioned? Yet how could they possibly affect Nest and himself?

"But why should I care?" he concluded. "If disgrace or dishonor attach to the family of Sairson, it is the poor girl's misfortune, not her fault. Let all the world know if it likes—I shall love her all the more for that. And when the time comes——"

Cecil paused, and the distant humming of a car struck his ear. Far down the drive he could see the cold blue flash of a pair of lamps, growing gradually larger as they neared the house. Who could it be at this time of night? Perhaps Sairson had managed to get away late and had come down from town in his motor. As the car came along the gleam of the lamp picked out the occupant, as limelight illuminates an actor on the stage. Barr saw him as the car passed, and a queer dry chuckle rattled in his throat.

"Sairson!" he said hoarsely. "Sairson has arrived, after all. There's luck in store yet!"

He turned back suddenly and began to run eagerly in the direction of the house.