CHAPTER XI
'Lady Montbarry, Miss.'
Agnes was writing a letter, when the servant astonished her byannouncing the visitor's name. Her first impulse was to refuse to seethe woman who had intruded on her. But Lady Montbarry had taken careto follow close on the servant's heels. Before Agnes could speak, shehad entered the room.
'I beg to apologise for my intrusion, Miss Lockwood. I have a questionto ask you, in which I am very much interested. No one can answer mebut yourself.' In low hesitating tones, with her glittering black eyesbent modestly on the ground, Lady Montbarry opened the interview inthose words.
Without answering, Agnes pointed to a chair. She could do this, and,for the time, she could do no more. All that she had read of thehidden and sinister life in the palace at Venice; all that she hadheard of Montbarry's melancholy death and burial in a foreign land; allthat she knew of the mystery of Ferrari's disappearance, rushed intoher mind, when the black-robed figure confronted her, standing justinside the door. The strange conduct of Lady Montbarry added a newperplexity to the doubts and misgivings that troubled her. There stoodthe adventuress whose character had left its mark on society all overEurope--the Fury who had terrified Mrs. Ferrari at thehotel--inconceivably transformed into a timid, shrinking woman! LadyMontbarry had not once ventured to look at Agnes, since she had madeher way into the room. Advancing to take the chair that had beenpointed out to her, she hesitated, put her hand on the rail to supportherself, and still remained standing. 'Please give me a moment tocompose myself,' she said faintly. Her head sank on her bosom: shestood before Agnes like a conscious culprit before a merciless judge.
The silence that followed was, literally, the silence of fear on bothsides. In the midst of it, the door was opened once more--and HenryWestwick appeared.
He looked at Lady Montbarry with a moment's steady attention--bowed toher with formal politeness--and passed on in silence. At the sight ofher husband's brother, the sinking spirit of the woman sprang to lifeagain. Her drooping figure became erect. Her eyes met Westwick'slook, brightly defiant. She returned his bow with an icy smile ofcontempt.
Henry crossed the room to Agnes.
'Is Lady Montbarry here by your invitation?' he asked quietly.
'No.'
'Do you wish to see her?'
'It is very painful to me to see her.'
He turned and looked at his sister-in-law. 'Do you hear that?' he askedcoldly.
'I hear it,' she answered, more coldly still.
'Your visit is, to say the least of it, ill-timed.'
'Your interference is, to say the least of it, out of place.'
With that retort, Lady Montbarry approached Agnes. The presence ofHenry Westwick seemed at once to relieve and embolden her. 'Permit meto ask my question, Miss Lockwood,' she said, with graceful courtesy.'It is nothing to embarrass you. When the courier Ferrari applied tomy late husband for employment, did you--' Her resolution failed her,before she could say more. She sank trembling into the nearest chair,and, after a moment's struggle, composed herself again. 'Did youpermit Ferrari,' she resumed, 'to make sure of being chosen for ourcourier by using your name?'
Agnes did not reply with her customary directness. Trifling as it was,the reference to Montbarry, proceeding from that woman of all others,confused and agitated her.
'I have known Ferrari's wife for many years,' she began. 'And I takean interest--'
Lady Montbarry abruptly lifted her hands with a gesture of entreaty.'Ah, Miss Lockwood, don't waste time by talking of his wife! Answer myplain question, plainly!'
'Let me answer her,' Henry whispered. 'I will undertake to speakplainly enough.'
Agnes refused by a gesture. Lady Montbarry's interruption had rousedher sense of what was due to herself. She resumed her reply in plainerterms.
'When Ferrari wrote to the late Lord Montbarry,' she said, 'he didcertainly mention my name.'
Even now, she had innocently failed to see the object which her visitorhad in view. Lady Montbarry's impatience became ungovernable. Shestarted to her feet, and advanced to Agnes.
'Was it with your knowledge and permission that Ferrari used yourname?' she asked. 'The whole soul of my question is in that. ForGod's sake answer me--Yes, or No!'
'Yes.'
That one word struck Lady Montbarry as a blow might have struck her.The fierce life that had animated her face the instant before, fadedout of it suddenly, and left her like a woman turned to stone. Shestood, mechanically confronting Agnes, with a stillness so wrapt andperfect that not even the breath she drew was perceptible to the twopersons who were looking at her.
Henry spoke to her roughly. 'Rouse yourself,' he said. 'You havereceived your answer.'
She looked round at him. 'I have received my Sentence,' sherejoined--and turned slowly to leave the room.
To Henry's astonishment, Agnes stopped her. 'Wait a moment, LadyMontbarry. I have something to ask on my side. You have spoken ofFerrari. I wish to speak of him too.'
Lady Montbarry bent her head in silence. Her hand trembled as she tookout her handkerchief, and passed it over her forehead. Agnes detectedthe trembling, and shrank back a step. 'Is the subject painful toyou?' she asked timidly.
Still silent, Lady Montbarry invited her by a wave of the hand to goon. Henry approached, attentively watching his sister-in-law. Agneswent on.
'No trace of Ferrari has been discovered in England,' she said. 'Haveyou any news of him? And will you tell me (if you have heardanything), in mercy to his wife?'
Lady Montbarry's thin lips suddenly relaxed into their sad and cruelsmile.
'Why do you ask me about the lost courier?' she said. 'You will knowwhat has become of him, Miss Lockwood, when the time is ripe for it.'
Agnes started. 'I don't understand you,' she said. 'How shall I know?Will some one tell me?'
'Some one will tell you.'
Henry could keep silence no longer. 'Perhaps, your ladyship may be theperson?' he interrupted with ironical politeness.
She answered him with contemptuous ease. 'You may be right, Mr.Westwick. One day or another, I may be the person who tells MissLockwood what has become of Ferrari, if--' She stopped; with her eyesfixed on Agnes.
'If what?' Henry asked.
'If Miss Lockwood forces me to it.'
Agnes listened in astonishment. 'Force you to it?' she repeated. 'Howcan I do that? Do you mean to say my will is stronger than yours?'
'Do you mean to say that the candle doesn't burn the moth, when themoth flies into it?' Lady Montbarry rejoined. 'Have you ever heard ofsuch a thing as the fascination of terror? I am drawn to you by afascination of terror. I have no right to visit you, I have no wish tovisit you: you are my enemy. For the first time in my life, againstmy own will, I submit to my enemy. See! I am waiting because you toldme to wait--and the fear of you (I swear it!) creeps through me while Istand here. Oh, don't let me excite your curiosity or your pity!Follow the example of Mr. Westwick. Be hard and brutal andunforgiving, like him. Grant me my release. Tell me to go.'
The frank and simple nature of Agnes could discover but oneintelligible meaning in this strange outbreak.
'You are mistaken in thinking me your enemy,' she said. 'The wrong youdid me when you gave your hand to Lord Montbarry was not intentionallydone. I forgave you my sufferings in his lifetime. I forgive you evenmore freely now that he has gone.'
Henry heard her with mingled emotions of admiration and distress. 'Sayno more!' he exclaimed. 'You are too good to her; she is not worthy ofit.'
The interruption passed unheeded by Lady Montbarry. The simple wordsin which Agnes had replied seemed to have absorbed the whole attentionof this strangely-changeable woman. As she listened, her face settledslowly into an expression of hard and tearless sorrow. There was amarked change in her voice when she spoke next. It expressed that lastworst resignation which has done with hope.
'You good innocent creature,' she said, 'what does your amiableforgiveness matter? What are your poor little
wrongs, in the reckoningfor greater wrongs which is demanded of me? I am not trying tofrighten you, I am only miserable about myself. Do you know what it isto have a firm presentiment of calamity that is coming to you--and yetto hope that your own positive conviction will not prove true? When Ifirst met you, before my marriage, and first felt your influence overme, I had that hope. It was a starveling sort of hope that lived alingering life in me until to-day. You struck it dead, when youanswered my question about Ferrari.'
'How have I destroyed your hopes?' Agnes asked. 'What connection isthere between my permitting Ferrari to use my name to Lord Montbarry,and the strange and dreadful things you are saying to me now?'
'The time is near, Miss Lockwood, when you will discover that foryourself. In the mean while, you shall know what my fear of you is, inthe plainest words I can find. On the day when I took your hero fromyou and blighted your life--I am firmly persuaded of it!--you were madethe instrument of the retribution that my sins of many years haddeserved. Oh, such things have happened before to-day! One person has,before now, been the means of innocently ripening the growth of evil inanother. You have done that already--and you have more to do yet. Youhave still to bring me to the day of discovery, and to the punishmentthat is my doom. We shall meet again--here in England, or there inVenice where my husband died--and meet for the last time.'
In spite of her better sense, in spite of her natural superiority tosuperstitions of all kinds, Agnes was impressed by the terribleearnestness with which those words were spoken. She turned pale as shelooked at Henry. 'Do you understand her?' she asked.
'Nothing is easier than to understand her,' he replied contemptuously.'She knows what has become of Ferrari; and she is confusing you in acloud of nonsense, because she daren't own the truth. Let her go!'
If a dog had been under one of the chairs, and had barked, LadyMontbarry could not have proceeded more impenetrably with the lastwords she had to say to Agnes.
'Advise your interesting Mrs. Ferrari to wait a little longer,' shesaid. 'You will know what has become of her husband, and you will tellher. There will be nothing to alarm you. Some trifling event willbring us together the next time--as trifling, I dare say, as theengagement of Ferrari. Sad nonsense, Mr. Westwick, is it not? But youmake allowances for women; we all talk nonsense. Good morning, MissLockwood.'
She opened the door--suddenly, as if she was afraid of being calledback for the second time--and left them.