The Red Rat's Daughter

  CHAPTER XV

  Why he should have been so surprised at meeting Maas on board thesteamer that evening Browne has never been able to understand. Thefact, however, remains that he was surprised, and unpleasantly so. Thetruth of the matter was, he wanted to be alone, to think of Katherineand of the work he had pledged himself to accomplish. Even when one ishead over ears in love, however, the common usages of society may claimsome moderate share of attention; and, all things considered, civilityto one's friends is perhaps the first of these. For this reason Brownepaced the deck with Maas, watching the lights of Calais growing smallereach time they turned their faces towards the stern of the vessel.Every turn of the paddle-wheels seemed to be taking Katherine fartherand farther from him; and yet, was he not travelling to England on hererrand, was he not wearing a ring she had given him upon his finger,and was not the memory of her face continually with him? Maas noticedthat he was unusually quiet and preoccupied, and attempted to rally himupon the subject. He was the possessor of a peculiarly ingratiatingmanner; and, much to his own surprise, Browne found himself, beforethey had been very long on board, telling him the news, that wasdestined sorely to trouble the hearts of mothers with marriageabledaughters before the next few weeks were out. "I am sure Icongratulate you most heartily, my dear fellow," said Maas, with a fineshow of enthusiasm. "I have had my suspicions that something of thekind was in the air for some considerable time past; but I did not knowthat it was quite so near at hand. I trust we shall soon be permittedthe honour of making the young lady's acquaintance."

  "I am afraid that will not be for some considerable time to come,"Browne replied.

  "How so?" asked Maas. "What are you going to do?"

  "As I told you the other day, I am thinking of leaving England on arather extended yachting cruise to the Farther East."

  "Ah, I remember you did say something about it," Maas continued. "Your_fiancee_ will accompany you, of course?"

  Browne scarcely knew what reply to offer to this speech. He had nodesire to allow Maas to suspect his secret, and at the same time hisconscience would not permit him to tell a deliberate untruth. Suddenlyhe saw a way out of his difficulty.

  "We shall meet in Japan, in all probability," he answered; "but shewill not go out with me."

  "What a pity!" said Maas, who had suddenly become very interested inwhat his companion was saying to him. "There is no place like a yacht,I think, at such a time. I do not, of course, speak from experience; Ishould imagine, however, that the rippling of the water alongside, andthe quiet of the deck at night, would be eminently conducive tolove-making."

  To this speech Browne offered no reply. The train of thought itconjured up was too pleasant, and at the same time too sacred, to beshared with any one else. He was picturing the yacht making her wayacross a phosphorescent sea, with the brilliant tropical stars shiningoverhead, and Katherine by his side, the only sound to be heard beingthe steady pulsation of the screw and the gentle lapping of the wateralongside.

  At last the lights of Dover were to be distinctly seen ahead. Thepassage had not been altogether a smooth one, and for this reason thedecks did not contain as many passengers as usual. Now, however, thelatter were beginning to appear again, getting their luggage togetherand preparing for going ashore, with that bustle that usuallycharacterises the last ten minutes on board a Channel steamer. Alwaysan amusing and interesting companion, Maas, on this particularoccasion, exerted himself to the utmost to please. By the time theyreached Charing Cross, Browne had to admit to himself that he had neverhad a more enjoyable journey. The time had slipped by so quickly andso pleasantly that he had been permitted no opportunity of feelinglonely.

  "I hope I shall see you again before you go," said Maas, as they stoodtogether in the courtyard of the station on the look-out for Browne'shansom, which was awaiting its turn to pull up at the steps. "When doyou think you will be starting?"

  "That is more than I can tell you," said Browne. "I have a great manyarrangements to make before I can think about going. However, I amcertain to drop across you somewhere. In the meantime, can I give youa lift?"

  "No, thank you," said Maas. "I shall take a cab and look in at theclub before I go home. I could not sleep until I have heard the newsof the town; who has married who, and who has run away with somebodyelse. Now, here is your cab; so let me wish you good-night. Manythanks for your society."

  Before Browne went to bed that night, he ascended to his magnificentpicture gallery, the same which had been the pride and glory of hisfather's heart, and, turning up the electric light, examined a picturewhich had lately been hung at the farther end. It was a Norwegiansubject, and represented the mountains overlooking the littlelandlocked harbour of Merok. How much had happened since he had lastlooked upon that scene, and what a vital change that chance meeting hadbrought about in his life! It seemed scarcely believable, and yet howtrue it all was! And some day, if all went well, Katherine would standin the self-same hall looking upon the same picture, mistress of thebeautiful house and all it contained. Before that consummation couldbe brought about, however, they had a difficult piece of work to do.And what would happen supposing he should never return? What if heshould fall into the hands of the Russian Government? That such a fatemight befall him was far from being unlikely, and it would behove himto take all precautions in case it should occur. In his own mind heknew exactly what those precautions would be. Waking from theday-dream into which he had fallen, he glanced once more at thepicture, and then, with a little sigh for he knew not what, made hisway to his bedroom and retired to rest. Next morning he was upbetimes, and by nine o'clock had telegraphed to Southampton for thecaptain of his yacht. At ten o'clock he ordered his hansom and droveto his lawyers' office in Chancery Lane. The senior partner had thatmoment arrived, so the clerk informed him.

  "If you will be kind enough to step this way, sir," the youthcontinued, "I will conduct you to him."

  Browne did as he was requested, and followed him down a passage to aroom at the farther end. Browne's visits were red-letter days in thecalendar of the firm. When the lad returned to his high stool in theoffice, it was to wonder how he would spend his time if he were thepossessor of such enormous wealth. It is questionable whether he wouldhave considered Browne so fortunate had he been made acquainted withall the circumstances of the case. He was an irreproachable youth inevery way, who during the week wore a respectable black coat andtop-hat, and lived at Blackheath; while on Sundays he rode a tandembicycle with the girl of his heart, and dreamt of the cottage they wereto share together, directly the firm could be persuaded to make thesalary, on which it was to be supported, a little more elastic.

  "How do you do, my dear Mr. Browne?" inquired the lawyer, rising fromhis chair as Browne entered, and extending his hand. "I understood youwere in Paris."

  "I returned last night," said Browne. "I came up early because I wantto see you on rather important business."

  "I am always at your service," replied the lawyer, bringing forward achair for Browne's use. "I hope you are not very much worried."

  "As a matter of fact, Bretherton, I have come to see you, because atlast I am going to follow your advice, and--well, the long and theshort of it is, I am going to be married!"

  The lawyer almost jumped from his chair in surprise. "I am delightedto hear it," he answered. "As I have so often said, I feel sure youcould not do a wiser thing. I have not the pleasure of knowing MissVerney; nevertheless----"

  Browne held up his hand in expostulation. "My dear fellow," he said,with a laugh, "you are on the wrong scent altogether. What on earthmakes you think I am going to marry Miss Verney? I never had any suchnotion."

  The lawyer's face was a study in bewilderment. "But I certainlyunderstood," he began, "that----"

  "So have a great many other people," said Browne. "But I can assureyou it is not the case. The lady I am going to marry is a Russian."

  "Ah, to be sure," continued the lawyer. "No
w I come to think of it, Iremember that my wife pointed out to me in some ladies' paper, that thePrincess Volgourouki was one of your yachting party at Cowes lastsummer."

  "Not the Princess either," said Browne. "You seem bent upon gettingupon the wrong tack. My _fiancee_ is not a millionairess; her name isPetrovitch. She is an orphan, an artist, and has an income of aboutthree hundred pounds a year."

  The lawyer was unmistakably shocked and disappointed. He had hoped tobe able to go home that night and inform his wife, that he was thefirst to hear of the approaching marriage of his great client with somewell-known beautiful aristocrat or heiress. Now to find that he wasgoing to espouse a girl, who was not only unknown to the great world,but was quite lacking in wealth, was a disappointment almost too greatto be borne. It almost seemed as if Browne had offered him a personalaffront; for, although his client was, in most respects, an easy-goingyoung man, still the lawyer was very well aware that there were timeswhen he could be as obstinate as any other man. For this reason heheld his tongue, and contented himself with bowing and drawing a sheetof note paper towards him. Then, taking up a pen, he inquired in whatway he could be of service.

  "The fact of the matter is, Bretherton," the other began, "I have acommunication to make to you which I scarcely know how to enter upon.The worst of it is that, for very many reasons, I cannot tell youanything definite. You must fill in the blanks according to your owntaste and fancy; and, according to how much you can understand, you canadvise me as to the best course for me to pursue."

  He paused for a moment, and during the interval the lawyer withdrew hisglasses from his nose, polished them, and replaced them. Having doneso, he placed his finger-tips together, and, looking at Browne overthem, waited for him to proceed.

  "The fact of the matter is," said the latter, "before I marry I havepledged myself to the accomplishment of a certain work, the nature ofwhich I cannot explain--I have given my word that I will revealnothing. However, the fact remains that it will take me into somerather strange quarters for a time; and for this reason it is justpossible that I--well, that you may never see me again."

  "My dear Mr. Browne," said the lawyer, aghast with surprise, "youastonish me more than I can say. Can it be that you are running suchrisk of your own free-will? I cannot believe that you are serious."

  "But I am," Browne replied; "perfectly serious."

  "But have you considered everything? Think what this may mean, notonly to the young lady you are about to marry, but to all your friends."

  "I have thought of everything," said Browne.

  The lawyer was, however, by no means satisfied. "But, my dear sir," hecontinued, "is there no way in which you can get out of it?"

  "Not one," said Browne. "I have given the matter my earnest attention,and have pledged myself to carry it out. No argument will move me.What I want you to do is to make my will to suit the exigencies of thecase."

  "Perhaps it would not be troubling you too much to let me know of whatthey consist," said the lawyer, whose professional ideas werealtogether shocked by such unusual--he almost thought insane--behaviour.

  "Well, to put it in a few words," said Browne, "I want you to arrangethat, in the event of anything happening to me, all of which I ampossessed, with the exception of such specific bequests as those ofwhich you are aware, shall pass to the lady whom I would have made mywife had I not died. Do you understand?"

  "I understand," said the lawyer; "and if you will furnish me with theparticulars I will have a fresh will drawn up. But I confess to you Ido not approve of the step you are taking."

  "I am sorry for that," Browne replied. "But if you were in my place Ifancy you would act as I am doing." Having said this, he gave thelawyer the particulars he required; and, when he left the office aquarter of an hour or so later, he had made Katherine Petrovitch theinheritor of the greater part of his enormous wealth. Whatever shouldhappen to him within the next few months she would at least be providedfor. From his lawyer's office he drove to his bank to deposit certainpapers; then to his tailor; and finally back to his own house in ParkLane, where he hoped and expected to find the captain of his yachtawaiting him. He was not disappointed. Captain Mason had justarrived, and was in the library at that moment. The latter was not ofthe usual yachting type. He was short and stout, possessed anunusually red face, which was still further ornamented by a fringe ofbeard below his chin; he had been at sea, man and boy, all his life,and had no sympathy with his brother-skippers who had picked up theirbusiness in the Channel, and whose longest cruise had been to theMediterranean and back. He had been in old Browne's employ for tenyears, and in that of his son after him. What was more, he had earnedthe trust and esteem of all with whom he was brought in contact; andwhen Browne opened the door and found that smiling, cheerful faceconfronting him, he derived a feeling of greater satisfaction than hehad done from anything for some considerable time past.