Page 21 of The Bond of Black

locked within her breast thesecret of Roddy's tragic end? I glanced again at her face as shestrolled by my side. Yes, her countenance was now pale and agitated,its aspect entirely changed from what it had been half an hour before.

  "Why cannot you tell me something of Aline?" I asked quietly, after along silence.

  "Because I am as entirely ignorant of her as you are," she answeredwithout hesitation. "All I know is that she is a strange person--awoman possessed of powers so marvellous as to appear almostsupernatural. Indeed, she seems the very incarnation of the Evil Onehimself. It was because of that I was angry when I knew that her beautyhad entranced you."

  "But you are acquainted with her," I declared. "Your words prove that."

  "No, I have had no dealings with her," she answered. "I should fear tohave, lest I should fall beneath her evil influence."

  "Then how did you know of my acquaintance with her?" I asked, notinghow charming she was, and wondering within myself why during all theyears that I had known her I had not discovered the true estimate of herbeauty until that afternoon.

  "The information was conveyed to me," she responded vaguely.

  "And you believed that I had forgotten you, Muriel?" I said tenderly,in a voice of reproach.

  "It is certain that you were held powerless under that spell which shecan cast over men at will. You reposed in contentment beneath herfascination, and called it love."

  "But it was not love," I hastened to assure her. "I admired her, it istrue, but surely you do not think that I could love a woman who is thusunder suspicion?"

  "Had your friend ever spoken of her?" she inquired after a briefsilence.

  "No," I said. "Aline, however, admitted that she knew him, butstrangely enough declared that he had committed suicide at Monte Carlomonths before."

  "Then what she said could not be correct," Muriel observed thoughtfully.

  "I really don't know what to believe," I answered, bewildered. "Herwords were so strange and her influence so subtle and extraordinary thatsometimes I feel inclined to think that she was some supernatural andeminently beautiful being who, having wrought in the world the evilwhich was allotted as her work, has vanished, leaving no more trace thana ray of light in space."

  "Others who have known her have held similar opinions," my prettycompanion said. "Yet she was apparently of flesh and blood like all ofus. At any rate, she ate and drank and slept and spoke like every otherhuman being, and certainly her loves and her hatreds were just asintense as those of any one of us."

  "But her touch was deadly," I said. "As a magician is able to changethings, so at her will certain objects dissolved in air, leaving only ahandful of ashes behind. In her soft, white hand was a power for theworking of evil which was irresistible, an influence which was nothingshort of demoniacal."

  Muriel held her breath, her eyes cast upon the ground. There was amysteriousness in her manner, such as I had never before noticed.

  "You are right--quite right," she answered. "She was a woman ofmystery."

  "Cannot you, now that I have made explanation and told you the reason ofmy apparent neglect, tell me what you know of her?" I asked earnestly.

  "I have no further knowledge," she assured me. "I know nothing of herpersonally."

  But her words did not convince me when I remembered how, on explainingmy suspicions regarding Aline's complicity in the crime, she hadbetrayed an abject fear.

  "No," I said dubiously. "You are concealing something from me, Muriel."

  "Concealing something!" she echoed, with a strange, hollow laugh. "I'mcertain I'm not."

  "Well," I exclaimed, rather impatiently, "to-day you have treated me,your oldest friend, very unfairly. You tell me that I merely consideryou a convenient companion to be patronised when I have no other morecongenial acquaintance at hand. That I deny. I may have neglectedyou," I went on in deep earnestness, as we halted for a moment beneaththe great old trees, "but this neglect of late has been owing to thetragedy which has so filled my mind. I have set myself to trace out itsauthor, and nothing shall deter me in my investigations."

  She was blanched to the lips. I noticed how the returning colour diedfrom her face again at my words, but continuing, said--

  "We have been friends. Those who know of our friendship would refuse tobelieve the truth if it were told to them, so eager is the world toridicule the idea of a purely platonic friendship between man and woman.Yet ours has, until now, been a firm friendship, without a thought oflove, without a single affectionate word."

  "That is the reason why I regret that it must now end," she answered,faltering, her voice half-choked with emotion.

  "End! What do you mean?" I cried, dismayed.

  "Ah, no!" she exclaimed, putting up both her hands, as if to shut me outfrom her gaze. "Don't let us discuss it further. It is sufficient thatwe can exchange no further confidences. It is best now that thisfriendship of ours should cease."

  "You are annoyed that I should have preferred the society of thatstrange, mysterious woman to yours," I said. "Well, I regret--I shallalways regret that we met--for she has only brought me grief, anxiety,and despair. Cannot you forgive me?"

  "I have nothing to forgive," she answered blankly. "To have admiredthis woman was surely no offence against me?"

  "But it was," I declared, grasping her hand against her will.

  "Why?"

  I held my breath and looked straight into her dark, luminous eyes.Then, in as firm a voice as I could summon, I said--

  "Because--because, Muriel, I love you?"

  "Love me!" she gasped, with a look of bewilderment. "No! No!"

  "Yes," I went on, in mad impetuousness, "for years I have loved you, butfeared to tell you, because you might regard my declaration as a merefoolish fancy on account of our positions, and impossible of realisationbecause of the probable opposition of my family. But I have now toldyou the truth, Muriel. I love you!"

  And with my hands holding hers, I bent for the first time to kiss herlips. But in an instant she avoided me, and twisted her gloved fingersfrom my grasp.

  "You must be mad!" she cried, with a glint of indignation in her eyes."You must be mad to think that I could love you--of all men!"

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  THE OLD LOVE AND THE NEW.

  I drew back crushed and humiliated.

  Her tone of withering scorn showed that she no longer looked upon mewith favour.

  "For years I have loved you, Muriel," I said in as calm a tone as Icould, "but I have feared to speak until to-day. Now that I havedeclared the truth cannot you trust me?"

  "No," she replied, shaking her head determinedly. "It is useless. Icannot love you."

  "Then you have tried and failed?" I gasped in dismay, looking into herwhite, agitated face.

  "Yes, I have tried," she answered after a pause.

  "And do you doubt me?" I demanded quickly.

  "Without mutual confidence there can be no love between us," sheresponded in a dismal tone.

  "But why can you not trust me? Surely I have given you no greatoffence?" I said, bewildered at her strange attitude.

  "I regret that you should have declared love to me, that's all," sheanswered, quite philosophically.

  "Why? Is it such a very extraordinary proceeding?"

  "Yes," she replied petulantly. "You know well that marriage is entirelyout of the question. What would your friends say if you hinted at sucha thing?"

  "The opinion of my friends is nothing to me," I replied. "I amfortunately not dependent upon them. No. I feel sure that is not thereason of your answer. You have some secret reason. What is it,Muriel?"

  "Have I not already told you that I am loved?"

  "And you reciprocate this man's love?" I said harshly.

  She made no response, but I saw in this silence an affirmative.

  "Who is he?" I inquired quickly.

  "A stranger."

  "And you have confidence in him?"

  He
r eyes filled with tears, and her breast heaved and fell quickly.

  "No, no," she cried at last. "Say no more. This subject is painful toboth of us. Do not let us discuss it."

  "But I love you," I again repeated. "I love you, Muriel!"

  "Then forget me," she answered, in a low, hoarse voice. "Forget me; forwe can in future be only acquaintances--not even friends."

  "Then you have promised your lover to end your friendship with me. Heis jealous of me!" I cried.