CHAPTER VIII.
THE WOKING MYSTERY.
She knew all. Then she was a murderess--or in sympathy with murderers.My arms fell from her. I drew back shuddering. I dared not look in herlying eyes, which cried pity when her base heart knew no mercy. Surelynow I had solved the maddening puzzle which the character of this girlhad, so far, presented to me. Yet the true solution was as far from meas ever. Indeed, I could not well have been further from it than at thatmoment.
As we walked back, Natalie made two or three unsuccessful attempts tolure me out of the silence which was certainly more eloquent on my partthan any words I could have used. Once she commenced:
"It is hard to explain--"
I interrupted her harshly. "No explanation is possible."
On that she put her handkerchief to her eyes, and a half-suppressed sobshook her slight figure. Her grief distracted me. But what could I sayto assuage it?
At the hall door I stopped and said, "Good-bye."
"Are you not coming in?"
There was a directness and emphasis in the question which did not escapeme.
"I?" The horror in my own voice surprised myself, and assuredly did notpass without her notice.
"Very well; good-bye. We are not exactly slaves of convention here, butyou are too far advanced in that direction even for me. This is yoursecond startling departure from us. I trust you will spare me thehumiliation entailed by the condescension of your further acquaintance."
"Give me an hour!" I exclaimed aghast. "You do not make allowance forthe enigma in which everything is wrapped up. I said I was your friendwhen I thought you of good report. Give me an hour--only an hour--to saywhether I will stand by my promise, now that you yourself have claimedthat your report is not good but evil. For that is really what you haveprotested. Do I ask too much? or is your generosity more limited eventhan my own?"
"Ah, no! I would not have you think that. Take an hour, or a year--anhour only if you care for my happiness."
"Agreed," said I. "I will take the hour. Discretion can have the year."
So I left her. I could not go indoors. A roof would smother me. Give methe open lawns, the leafy woods, the breath of the summer wind. Away,then, to the silence of the coming night. For an hour leave me to mythoughts. Her unworthiness was now more than suspected. It was admitted.My misery was complete. But I would not part with her; I could not.Innocent or guilty, she was mine. I must suffer with her or for her. Theresolution by which I have abided was formed as I wandered lonelythrough the woods.
When I reached my room that night I found a note from Brande. To receivea letter from a man in whose house I was a guest did not surprise me. Iwas past that stage. There was nothing mysterious in the letter, saveits conclusion. It was simply an invitation to a public meeting of theSociety, which was to be held on that day week in the hall in HanoverSquare, and the special feature in the letter--seeing that it did notvanish like the telegram, but remained an ordinary sheet of paper--layin its concluding sentence. This urged me to allow nothing to prevent myattendance. "You will perhaps understand thereafter that we are neitherpolitical plotters nor lunatics, as you have thought."
Thought! The man's mysterious power was becoming wearisome. It was toomuch for me. I wished that I had never seen his face.
As I lay sleepless in my bed, I recommenced that interminableintrospection which, heretofore, had been so barren of result. It waseasy to swear to myself that I would stand by Natalie Brande, that Iwould never desert her. But how should my action be directed in orderthat by its conduct I might prevail upon the girl herself to surrenderher evil associates? I knew that she regarded me with affection. And Iknew also that she would not leave her brother for my sake. Did shesympathise with his nefarious schemes, or was she decoyed into them likemyself?
Decoyed! That was it!
I sprang from the bed, beside myself with delight. Now I had not merelya loophole of escape from all these miseries; I had a royal highway.Fool, idiot, blind mole that I was, not to perceive sooner that easysolution of the problem! No wonder that she was wounded by my unworthydoubts. And she had tried to explain, but I would not listen! I threwmyself back and commenced to weave all manner of pleasant fancies roundthe salvation of this girl from her brother's baneful influence, and theannihilation of his Society, despite its occult powers, by mine ownvalour. The reaction was too great. Instead of constructing marvellouscounterplots, I fell sound asleep.
Next day I found Natalie in a pleasant morning-room to which I wasdirected. She wore her most extreme--and, in consequence, mostexasperating--rational costume. When I entered the room she pushed achair towards me, in a way that suggested Miss Metford's worst manner,and lit a cigarette, for the express purpose, I felt, of annoying me.
"I have come," I said somewhat shamefacedly, "to explain."
"And apologise?"
"Yes, to apologise. I made a hideous mistake. I have suffered for it asmuch as you could wish."
"Wish you to suffer!" She flung away her cigarette. Her dark eyes openedwide in unassumed surprise. And that curious light of pity, which I hadso often wondered at, came into them. "I am very sorry if you havesuffered," she said, with convincing earnestness.
"How could I doubt you? Senseless fool that I was to suppose for onemoment that you approved of what you could not choose but know--"
At this her face clouded.
"I am afraid you are still in error. What opinion have you formed whichalters your estimate of me?"
"The only opinion possible: that you have unwillingly learned the secretof your brother's Society; but, like myself--you see no way to--to--"
"To what purpose?"
"To destroy it."
"I am not likely to attempt that."
"No, it would be impossible, and the effort would cost your life."
"That is not my reason." She arose and stood facing me. "I do not liketo lose your esteem. You know already that I will not lie to retain it.I approve of the Society's purpose."
"And its actions?"
"They are inevitable. Therefore I approve also of its actions. I shallnot ask you to remain now, for I see that you are again horrified; as isnatural, considering your knowledge--or, pardon me for saying so, yourwant of knowledge. I shall be glad to see you after the lecture to whichyou are invited. You will know a little more then; not all, perhaps, butenough to shake your time-dishonoured theories of life--and death."
I bowed, and left the room without a word. It was true, then, that shewas mad like the others, or worse than mad--a thousand times worse! Isaid farewell to Brande, as his guest, for the last time. ThenceforwardI would meet him as his enemy--his secret enemy as far as I couldpreserve my secrecy with such a man; his open enemy when the proper timeshould come.
In the railway carriage I turned over some letters and papers which Ifound in my pockets, not with deliberate intention, but to while awaythe time. One scrap startled me. It was the sheet on which Brande hadwritten the Woking address, and on reading it over once more, a thoughtoccurred to me which I acted on as soon as possible. I could go toWoking and find out something about the man Delany. So long as myinquiries were kept within the limits of the strictest discretion,neither Brande nor any of his executive could blame me for seekingconvincing evidence of the secret power they claimed.
On my arrival in London, I drove immediately to the London NecropolisCompany's station and caught the funeral train which runs to Brookwoodcemetery. With Saint Anne's Chapel as my base, I made short excursionshither and thither, and stood before a tombstone erected to the memoryof George Delany, late of the Criminal Investigation Department,Scotland Yard. This was a clue which I could follow, so I hurried backto town and called on the superintendent of the department.
Yes, I was told, Delany had belonged to the department. He had been avery successful officer in ferreting out foreign Anarchists andevil-doers. His last movement was to join a Society of harmless crankswho met in Hanover Square. No importance was attached to this in thedepar
tment. It could not have been done in the way of business, althoughDelany pretended that it was. He had dropped dead in the street as hewas leaving his cab to enter the office with information which must haveappeared to him important--to judge from the cabman's evidence as to hisintense excitement and repeated directions for faster driving. There wasan inquest and a post-mortem, but "death from natural causes" was theverdict. That was all. It was enough for me.
I had now sufficient evidence, and was finally convinced that theSociety was as dangerous as it was demented.