with our enemies before!" Frank cried, allhis dark suspicions now suddenly aroused by her fears and apprehensions.
"I told them nothing, though they tried to force me to."
"You knew this man, Jim Jannaway, while I was in Copenhagen," saidFrank, his eyes fixed upon her very seriously. "Come, tell the truth,Gwen."
She nodded in the affirmative, and unable to utter another word, burstagain into tears.
And the three men standing there saw that her tears were tears of shame.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two hours later, Frank Farquhar, dark-faced and determined, stood in oneof the smaller rooms in Sir Felix Challas's house in Berkeley Square,while before him, seated easily on the edge of the table, was JimJannaway.
"Well, Mr Farquhar," he said, "what you've just stated is to a certainextent correct. I have no reason whatever to hide the truth, now thatyou have come to me and demanded it. The investigation of Holmboe'sstory has simply been a matter of business in which the keenest witswin. We have won."
"By trickery--and by a burglary, for which Professor Griffin intends tohave you arrested."
Jannaway laughed impudently in his face.
"My dear sir, pray don't be foolish," he answered, "why it was MissGriffin herself who let me in, and who showed me her father's decipherof the message in Ezekiel. And if you don't believe me," he added,"here's the telegram which the sent me."
Frank took the telegram he handed him, and read the following words:"Shall place candle at my window at two to-morrow morning. Come. Havesomething very important to communicate. Love, Gwen."
Love! The word danced before Frank's eyes.
"Why should she be acting in your interests, Mr Jannaway, and not inher father's? That seems to me a very curious point," he said, for wantof something else to say.
"There was a reason--a very strong reason," replied the fellow, with amysterious grin, pretending, of course, to be unaware that Farquhar wasthe girl's lover; "the little girl is a particular friend of mine."
"What do you mean?" gasped Frank, his face paler.
"Well--what I say. Need I be more explicit? It is not usual for a manto imperil a girl's reputation, is it?"
"Come," said Frank; "tell me the truth. Is your acquaintance anintimate one?"
The fellow nodded and laughed. He plainly saw the result of his cruelaspersions upon the girl's character.
"I don't believe it," declared Frank.
"Oh! perhaps you are her friend also!" exclaimed Jannaway with a smile."If so, you'd better ask her if she did not remain with me during arecent absence from home. I wanted her to go back, but she seemedafraid, and preferred life in a bachelor's chambers."
"You lie!" cried Frank, crimson with anger.
"No, not so quick, Mr Farquhar," exclaimed the scoundrel coolly. "Justinquire of her, that's all. Ask her if she did not meet me in secretlate one night, and whether she didn't remain with me in my chambers offOxford Street. She will certainly not have forgotten the incident," headded with meaning sarcasm.
"I don't believe you!" declared Frank, "but even if she had, you're acursed blackguard for giving her away!"
"You asked me for the truth, and you've got it!" was Jim Jannaway'sresponse. "Anything more you wish to know? If so, I am entirely atyour service."
It was one of Jannaway's characteristics that the more angry he became,the more cool was his exterior.
"I want to know nothing from one who is a liar, a thief, and a slandererof women," Frank responded, in a hard, bitter voice.
"I understand that the object of your visit was to inquire the reasonwhy I called so early this morning at Pembridge Gardens. I have simplyreplied that I called at the Professor's in response to thisinvitation," and he indicated the telegram which he still held in hishand, and which, if the truth were told, he had taken the precaution tosend to himself, as additional evidence against the innocent girl whomhe had all along intended should be his victim.
"And you repeat your allegation that Miss Gwen has been your guest atyour chambers for several days--eh? Remember, if untrue, such astatement is actionable."
"I repeat it. And I ask you to satisfy yourself as to its truth byasking her. But," he added, "I may as well tell you that the littlegirl is annoyed with me just now for betraying her father's secret to myfriends. Yet, after all, as I've already said, it was only a matter ofbusiness, and with business women ought never to meddle. They alwaysburn their fingers."
"And your friends--that is Sir Felix Challas and his associates--intend,of course, to profit by this secret which you've stolen--eh?" askedFrank, his face darkening.
"That's their affair--not mine."
"I hear that you bribed the parlour-maid at Pembridge Gardens--thecrafty scoundrel that you are!"
"That's it!" Jim laughed, "and I squeezed the cook, and kissed thekitchenmaid! Anything else? No, I really haven't any more time towaste, Mr Farquhar. All I need add is, that if you doubt my statement,please ask Miss Griffin herself."
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
REVEALS A WOMAN'S FACE.
A cold bleak afternoon in Kensington Gardens. The frozen gravelled pathwas lightly powdered with snow, and against the bare black branchesshowed the pale yellow light of the wintry afternoon. Bent to thebiting wind, men and women, wrapped to the ears, passed up the BroadWalk, and among them was Gwen Griffin, a lonely, solitary, sweet-facedlittle figure, neat with her black bow in her hair, her blue doth skirt,fur bolero, and fur toque and muff to match.
She walked very slowly, her sad eyes cast upon the ground. She alwayswent into the gardens when she wanted to think. Near Hyde Park Gate,she turned into one of the narrow and little-frequented paths, for shewanted to be alone.
That afternoon the great blow which she dreaded had fallen, and heryoung heart so light and happy, was crushed and broken.
Frank Farquhar had sent her, by messenger from Half Moon Street, acruel, brief letter, in which he told her plainly of the allegationwhich Jim Jannaway had made, and explaining that, in consequence, hemust ask her to consider their engagement at a complete end.
Its rigid formality showed that he believed every word of that vilecalumny. Ah! if only Mullet would speak! If only he would consent tothe truth being told.
But alas! though a fortnight had passed since his hurried departure fromPembridge Gardens after hearing of the betrayal of the secret, he hadsent her no single word. He was a will-o'-the wisp, gone abroad, in allprobability, in order to escape arrest.
For a fortnight, too, she had not seen Frank. After her admission ofJim Jannaway's visit, he had left the house in evident disgust andanger, and had not returned. He had not even written to her, for sheunderstood that he had gone abroad. That afternoon, however, he hadsent her the note which for fifteen long anxious days she had beendreading.
She sank upon one of the seats quite alone, yet within sound of the dullroar of the traffic in Kensington Gore, and taking his letter from hermuff, re-read it, her vision half obscured by hot bitter tears.
"The scoundrel told such a circumstantial tale," she murmured toherself, "that Frank has believed it without question. Yet--yet if hehad come to me, and asked me, what could I have said? It was true thatI stayed in that hateful place, even though against my will. Ah! Iwonder what foul lies he has told against me--what--"
And hiding her face in her muff, she burst again into a flood of tears.
Her sweet, bright countenance had, alas, greatly changed in those pastfew weeks. Instead of bearing the stamp of inward happiness, she wasnow wan and pale, with thin cheeks and dark, deep-sunken eyes--the faceof a woman whose heart was troubled, and who existed in terror of thefuture.
Both the Professor and Diamond--who was still a frequent visitor and hadlong conferences with her father--had noticed the change. But neitherhad made any remark. They attributed it to her heartfelt regret at nothaving raised the alarm on finding Jannaway prying into their s
ecret.
The girl's mind, racked by the tortures of conscience and frenzied bythe cruel calumnies uttered against her, was now strained to itsgreatest tension. She was utterly friendless, for even her father nowavoided her, and at meals treated her with a cool and studied aversion.Instead of being petted and indulged as she had been all her life, shewas now shunned. He asked of her no advice, nor did he invite her tohis study each evening to chat, as had been his habit ever since she hadleft school.
One friend she possessed in the world--"Red Mullet," the adventurer whoposed as a mining engineer! Where was he? Ay, who could tell?
"That man threatened his