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Amethyst Cross

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<h4>CHAPTER XII</h4> <h5>A COUNTERPLOT</h5> Captain Sargent was somewhat disheartened by Lesbia's steady opposition to his wooing. He was not virile enough to take her heart by storm, and his usual tactics did not seem to succeed with this cool, quiet, observant girl, who looked at him so straight. Also his threats of harming George Walker and Mr. Hale proved to be but blunt weapons and could not penetrate the shield of Lesbia's composure. Sargent retreated from the field of battle thoroughly beaten, and he must have confessed as much to Hale, for that gentleman took his daughter to task when she returned to the cottage after her secret interview with Canning. The unsuccessful lover had already departed, and Lesbia listened for ten minutes to her father's denunciations of what he was pleased to style her wickedness. "You ought to be flattered that so rich and handsome a man loves you," raged Mr. Hale, who for once in his life lost his self-control. "You seem to forget that if I died to-morrow--and I might as my heart is affected--you would be left penniless." Lesbia raised her eyebrows. "I understood you to say that you could leave me two thousand a year," she observed quietly. "If you marry as I wish," cried her father furiously, "not otherwise. Failing your becoming the wife of my dear friend, Sargent, I shall leave the money to Lord Charvington." "Well," said the girl cheerfully, "that would only be fair, since he has paid you a pension for so long." "What do you know about that?" snapped Hale, changing colour. "Very little. But you certainly told me in an expansive moment that Lord Charvington, as your cousin, allowed you a small income." "Precious small," muttered Hale, not contradicting. "But why does he allow you anything?" asked Lesbia, very directly, "with two thousand a year you cannot wish for his help." Hale took a turn up and down the room, then stopped opposite to his daughter and spoke in quieter tones, but none the less emphatic. "I am not enjoying two thousand a year at present," he declared slowly, "and so accept an annuity from Charvington, who, being my cousin, has every right to assist me." "I don't see that," murmured the girl, shrugging. "It doesn't matter what you see, or what you don't see," cried Hale, his temper again getting beyond control. "Do as you are told, or chance the consequences." "Be a pawn in fact," she rejoined ironically. "A pawn on your chess-board." Hale shrugged in his turn. "Put it how you like," he retorted, "but obey." "Certainly not. I am a human being and have the right to----" "You have the right to do nothing," broke in her father desperately. "See here, my girl, you are making a great mistake by not letting me guide you. Had you been open about that amethyst cross, I should never have allowed you to give it to George Walker. Its possession means more than you think. The two thousand a year depends upon its production." "Oh!" Lesbia opened her eyes widely. "I see. Then you are willing that I should marry George if you get this two thousand." "Yes," said Hale bluntly, "but for circumstances which do not concern you--I prefer that you should marry Sargent." "Marriage with anyone concerns me a great deal," said Lesbia coolly, "and I decline to marry a man I do not love. As to the cross: it was my own property left to me by my mother, and if its production will bring me two thousand a year I am very sorry it is lost." "I did not say that it meant two thousand a year to you," said Hale uneasily, and with a scowl. "Pardon me, father. I assume that, since I am the owner of the cross. However, it is lost and neither I nor you know where to find it. That being the case I refuse to marry Captain Sargent and shall marry George." "You have sent him away: you forget that." "I can bring him again to my feet." "Lesbia Lesbia! you are playing with fire." "Probably, but I shall continue to play until you tell me the meaning of all these things." "I have told you about the cross----" "Quite so," interrupted the girl drily, "and I now know why George was assaulted and his mother's cottage robbed." "You dare to say that I am the guilty person," demanded her father suspiciously. "Oh no. If you were, you would have the cross; and thus being able to get the two thousand a year, you would not oppose my marriage with George. You are innocent!" "Thank you for nothing," sneered Hale coolly, "but you can reckon on this, Lesbia, that if I could have knocked down George and have robbed him of the cross I should have done so." "That is candid, father." "You asked me to be candid. But, hold your tongue, or else talk sense. You must marry Sargent. I shall not allow you to throw yourself away on that thief, and----" "Stop!" cried Lesbia, rising indignantly, "you shall not call George names in my hearing. He is no thief." "Can you prove that?" It was on the tip of the girl's tongue to speak out and accuse Tait. But she first desired to see Maud Ellis in order to cut her claws, and therefore, with a self-restraint far beyond her years, she shook her head. Hale sneered again, "You are a silly romantic fool," he scoffed, "and sooner or later I shall force you to do my will." "Never! Never! Never!" "Oh, very well," replied Hale, baffled by her obstinacy, "then I shall go to London and leave you here. I shall not speak to you, or eat with you, or have anything to do with you, until you obey me as a daughter should," and turning on his heel, he departed in cold anger. Hale duly kept his promise and went away leaving the girl to her own devices. But so clever a man should have known that the punishment--as he deemed it--was no punishment at all. He had never been a father to Lesbia in the accepted sense of the word, and she had but small affection for him. Alone with Tim, she was much happier than when in Mr. Hale's chilling presence, and preferred his room to his company. Also, he was really playing into her hands, as she wished to be alone in order to see Maud and bring her to reason. It was not Lesbia's wish to call again at Henley, as she thought that she could deal better with Miss Ellis when she was on her native heath. Therefore, now that Hale was out of the way, and she was free to do what she desired, she set to work to concoct a plot, whereby to bring Maud Ellis to the cottage at Marlow. To this end she wrote a letter stating that she and George were to be married shortly, and that Miss Ellis's scheme had failed. This artful epistle she posted to Henley, hoping that if Miss Ellis was in London it would be forwarded to her there. She felt certain--since, being a woman, she knew woman's nature better than a man could know it--that Maud would seek an interview and come to Rose Cottage. Of course there was the chance that Maud might first interview Walker, and then learn the falsity of the statement. But in that case, George would come to learn the truth, and then she could tell him what Canning had discovered. In fact, owing to the skilful way in which Lesbia played her one trump card, she was certain to bring to the cottage either Maud Ellis or George Walker: and whichever came, she was prepared to deal with the situation. All the same, she hoped that Maud would be the one to put in an appearance, as if she could silence her, she could then call at the Medmenham cottage and explain to her lover the reason why she had dismissed him. Accordingly, when the letter setting the trap was posted, Lesbia sat down to think over the behaviour of Walker. It puzzled her that he should so tamely accept his dismissal. On the face of it she had treated him cruelly, and had given no reason for abruptly breaking off the engagement. All the same, she considered, woman-like, that he should not have acquiesced too readily to her proposal that they should never meet again. But she forgot that George was a proud man, and that the sole reason he could assign for her dismissing him, was the fact that he was suspected of robbery. If she believed him guilty--George, as she might have thought, would have argued in this way--and had not sufficient love to stand up for him, then she was not worthy of the worship he bestowed on her. But Lesbia did not think thus. She only knew that she had sent George to the right-about and that he had gone away without looking back for a single moment. This was not as it should be, said the woman within her, and therefore she secretly felt annoyed with Walker for his too ready obedience. It can therefore be seen that Lesbia Hale was intensely feminine. Perhaps on that account George loved her the more, since the unexpected in woman is always what lures the man. However, think what she would, and argue as she might, the fact remained that Walker kept away from Rose Cottage and that she had not sufficient courage to face her lover, when under the wing of his mother. Lesbia missed the golden days of wooing dreadfully, and in their absence was anxious to carry on her counterplot, if only to fill in the time. Besides, there would be a considerable amount of pleasure in beating Miss Ellis with her own weapons. It was therefore a happy day to Lesbia that brought the stockbroker's niece into the trap, as this time the biter was about to be bitten. And Lesbia, being a woman and dealing with a woman, determined to show no mercy since Maud had shown none. Besides, the two were fighting over a man, and so reverted to the ethics of cave life and pre-historic struggle. Within four days of the posting of the letter, Miss Ellis arrived and was shown by Tim into the tiny drawing-room. It was empty, as Lesbia had seen her rival coming, and therefore had departed to change her frock. Also she hoped to make Maud lose her temper by enforced waiting, knowing that if she did, there would be less difficulty in dealing with her. Unsophisticated as Lesbia was, she instinctively knew how to fight. Her tactics were correct, for when she entered spick and span and smiling into the drawing-room, she found Maud fuming restlessly, and quite ready to pick a quarrel on the score of uncivil treatment. "I have been kept waiting," said Miss Ellis in a Louis XIV tone, and putting up a lorgnette to glare at her much too beautiful rival. "I am so sorry," responded Lesbia politely. "But I was not dressed to receive anyone, and your visit is unexpected." Maud laughed contemptuously. "You knew that I would come," she declared with conviction. "You have been looking out for me every day." "You say so," said Lesbia, still graciously, for since the last interview at Henley, she had changed her tactics with Miss Ellis. "Will you not be seated? This chair is most comfortable, it has its back to the light." "I don't need to sit with my back to the light," flashed Maud indignantly. "Oh, I beg pardon, but from that lorgnette I thought that your eyes might be weak. Sit here then, in the full warmth of the sunshine." But Miss Ellis knew better than to let the searching light reveal her age too clearly to her hostess. "I'll sit here," she declared abruptly, and came to rest on the sofa. "That's right," said Lesbia caressingly, "It's a nice shady corner." Maud bit her lip, knowing perfectly well that Lesbia was casting a reflection on her age. But having taken the seat she could scarcely leave it without laying herself open to further pointed remarks, so she remained where she was and came to the object of her visit at once. "What do you mean by writing me this letter?" she demanded, producing the epistle of her hostess. "I mean to show you that your plot to part George and myself has failed." Miss Ellis crushed up the letter savagely. "Has it," she inquired, "seeing that you have broken your engagement?" "How do you know that?" "Mrs. Walker told me. And very glad she is I can tell you. Mrs. Walker is an old friend of my uncle's and has known me for years. She wants George to marry me. She told me so only a few days ago." "As if it mattered what she said," retorted Lesbia contemptuously. "She is George's mother." "No one denies that." "And as he is her son, he should obey her." "Even when she wants him to marry a woman he cares nothing for." "George does care for me," cried Maud, a deep flush overspreading her face even to the roots of her sandy hair. "I admit that when he was engaged to you, he would not look at me. But now that you have thrown him over so cruelly, he has turned to me for consolation." "I don't believe it," said Lesbia quickly. "You must, you shall," snapped Miss Ellis very much in earnest. "Look here, this sort of thing won't do." "What sort of thing?" "This enmity you have towards me. I don't know why you are behaving so exasperatingly," wailed Maud plaintively. "When you came to Henley, it was the first time we met, and for your father's sake I was anxious to make a friend of you. But you were so rude and so silly that I could not. But I am willing to make every allowance for your want of training, and so I have come here to ask you to be friends." "Oh, I don't mind, provided you will leave George alone." "I shan't, so there. I love him." "So do I. And as he loves me I have the prior claim." "But you have broken your engagement and so have left the field open to me. Don't be a dog in the manger." "I am not. I love George and I have always loved him. I sent the letter I did because of what my father told me. You lured George into a trap, and--as you said yourself at Henley--you can get him arrested. Because of your attitude I was compelled to dismiss him, or see him ruined." Miss Ellis put up her lorgnette with an air of triumph. "You have stated the case accurately, save for one remark," she declared. "I can ruin George Walker, and I shall do so unless he marries me. But I did not lure him into a trap. I merely took advantage of circumstances." "Which you knew existed." "What do you mean by that?" "What I say," retorted Lesbia, keeping her eyes on Maud's face. "You appointed that place and that hour of meeting in order to implicate George in a robbery which you knew was about to take place." Miss Ellis sprang to her feet with a white face and trembling hands. "You go too far," she said, in a suffocating voice. "Why should I?--Why should I?--Oh," she stamped, "your remarks are infamous." "They are true." "It's a lie! they are not true. I had no idea that my uncle's strong-room was to be robbed of those jewels on that night and at that hour. If I had known I should have prevented the robbery." "Mr. Tait would not have thanked you for doing so," replied Lesbia meaningly. "Are you mad?" gasped Maud, and her face became a dull brick-red. "No," answered Lesbia drily, "I am merely well-informed." "Informed of what?" Miss Ellis moistened her dry lips. "That Mr. Tait wanted money to tide over a financial crisis, and arranged to have the jewels stolen, so that he could sell them secretly." "It's a lie--a lie," cried Maud again, and the perspiration broke out on her quivering face; "my uncle is a wealthy man: everyone knows that. If he wanted money he could have sold the jewels openly--they were his own." "You forget the insurance at Lloyd's." Maud dropped on to the sofa as though she had been shot. "The insurance?" "Yes. Mr. Tait insured those jewels for something like twenty thousand pounds, and so had them stolen. Certainly he could have sold them openly, as you say, but then he would have got only half the money he requires." "Half the money?" Maud gasped again, and suddenly looked double her age. "Of course, twenty thousand pounds. By insuring the jewels and by having them stolen, he will gain the proceeds of the sale he has arranged with the thieves, besides the twenty thousand from the insurance." "You dare--to--accuse--my--oh," Maud jumped up fiercely and stamped angrily, "it is ridiculous; what proof have you of this absurd tale?" "I have absolute proof," said Lesbia quietly and rising in her turn. "Mr. Canning--The Shadow--who watched me here at my father's request, found out what I say and, if necessary, he can prove the truth of what he found out. And he will, at my request, if you do not promise to leave George alone and swear that you will not accuse him of a crime of which--as you knew all the time--he is innocent." But Maud heard only half this speech. "Canning, The Shadow," she muttered, "do you mean Captain Sargent's valet?" "Yes. I nursed him through an illness, and he has shown his gratitude to me by discovering your uncle's plot, and proving your knowledge of it. I can prove what I say with Canning's assistance, and I shall do so, unless you promise to do as I have asked you." Maud buttoned her jacket with trembling hands and moved towards the door hastily. "You are talking rubbish," she muttered in a thick voice. "I refuse to talk of the matter. It is too silly. But," she faced round, "I shall tell my uncle, and he shall have you put in gaol." "He will be in gaol himself," retorted Lesbia "As soon as you leave this house, I shall arrange with Mr. Canning to go to the police and state what he told me." "You would not dare." "Yes, I would, unless you swear not to accuse George and promise to leave him to me. I said that before: I say so again, and for the last time." "It's a----" Maud was about to say that it was a lie for the third time, but the word died away on her lips. Whether Maud was cognizant of the plot to steal the jewels Lesbia could not say, as she made no remark on this point: but her very silence showed that she was in the business. Lesbia's attitude left her no alternative but to make terms, since if she left the house, there was every danger that her uncle might be arrested. "If I do what you ask, will you hold your tongue?" Maud demanded faintly. "Then you admit that what I say is true?" countered Miss Hale. "No," almost shouted Miss Ellis, "I do not. Still, mud sticks however wrongly thrown, and I do not want my uncle to suffer through me. As to Canning, oh, my uncle will deal with him I promise you. Not a word. I agree to all you ask. I must. I shall not accuse George: I shall leave him to you and," she leaned forward with a snarl, "I shall bring misery on you at the eleventh hour." "I defy you," retorted Lesbia with scorn. "Very good." Maud smiled in an evil way. "We shall see who wins the dangerous game you are playing. I----" she broke off abruptly and left in haste. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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