Passenger from Calais — Chapters 23 & 24

[_Colonel Annesley again.

_] I had no reason to complain of the course of events culminating in the affair at Culoz.

I defended to myself the assault upon Lord Blackadder as in a measure provoked and justifiable under the circumstances, although I was really sorry for him and at the poor figure he cut before the police magistrate and gendarmes.

But I could not forget the part he had played throughout, nor was I at all disposed to turn aside from my set purpose to help the ladies in their distress.

Every man of proper feeling would be moved thereto, and I knew in my secret heart that very tender motives impelled me to the unstinting championship of Lady Claire.

I was still without definite news of what had happened between the two sisters while I was covering their movements at Culoz.

I could not know for certain whether or not the exchange had actually been effected, and I did not dare inquire about the station, for it might betray facts and endanger results.

I had no hope of a message from Lady Henriette, for she would hardly know where to address me.

Lady Claire would almost certainly telegraph to me via London at the very earliest opportunity, and I was careful to wire from Culoz to the hall porter of my club, begging him to send on everything without a moment's delay.

Then, while still in the dark, I set myself like a prudent general to discover what the enemy was doing.

He was here in Aix in the persons of Lord Blackadder and his two devoted henchmen, Falfani and Tiler.

I

had heard the appointment he had given them at the Hôtel Hautecombe, and I cast about me to consider how I might gain some inkling of their intentions.

Luckily I had desired l'Echelle, the sleeping-car conductor, to stick to me on leaving the police office, and I put it to him whether or not he was willing to enter my service.

"I will take you on entirely," I promised, "if you choose to leave your present employment.

You shall be my own man, my valet and personal attendant.

It is likely that I may wander about the Continent for some time, and it may suit you to come with me."

He seemed pleased at the idea, and we quickly agreed as to terms.

"Now, l'Echelle," I went on, "after last night I think I may trust you to do what I want, and I promise you I won't forget it.

Find out what the other side is at, and contrive somehow to become acquainted with Lord Blackadder's plans."

"How far may I go?"

he asked me plump.

"They are pretty sure to try and win me over, they've done so already.

Shall I accept their bid?

It would be the easiest way to know all you want."

"It's devilish underhand," I protested.

"You'll be paying them back in their own coin," he returned.

"_A corsaire fieffé corsaire et demi.

_ It will be to my advantage, and you won't lose."

"Upon my soul, I don't quite like it."

I still hung back, but his arguments seemed so plausible that they overcame my scruples, and I was not sorry for it in the long run.

[_The reader has already been told how Falfani craftily approached l'Echelle, and found him, as he thought, an easy prey.

We know how the communication was kept up between the two camps, how Falfani was fooled into believing that he kept close watch over Colonel Annesley through l'Echelle, how the latter told his real master the true news of the progress made by Tiler.

When there could be little doubt that the chase was growing warm and had gone as far as Lyons, the Colonel felt that there was danger and that he must take more active steps to divert the pursuit and mislead the pursuers.

The Colonel shall continue in his own words.

_] I was much disturbed when I learnt that Tiler had wired from Lyons.

I

saw clearly what it meant.

The next message would disclose the whereabouts of the Lady Claire, at that time the only lady, as they thought, in the case, and the lady with the real child.

It would soon be impossible for me to make use of the second with the sham child to draw the pursuers after her.

In this it must be understood that, although I had no certainty of it, I took it for granted that the little Lord Aspdale was with his aunt and not with his mother, who, as I sincerely believed, had already reached Fuentellato.

It was essential now to persuade my Lord Blackadder and his people that this was the case, and induce them to embark upon a hasty expedition into Italy.

I therefore concocted a cunning plan with l'Echelle for leading them astray.

It was easy enough to arrange for the despatch of a telegram from Milan to me at Aix, a despatch to be handed in at the former place by a friend of l'Echelle's, but purporting to come from Lady Claire.

My man had any number of acquaintances in the railway service, one or more passed daily through Aix with the express trains going east or west; and with the payment of a substantial douceur the trick was done.

The spurious message reached me in Aix early on the third morning, and the second act in the fraud was that l'Echelle should allow Falfani to see the telegram.

He carried out the deception with consummate skill, pretending to pick my pocket of the telegram, which he then put under Falfani's eyes.

The third act was to be my immediate exit from Aix.

I

made no secret of this, very much the reverse.

Notice was given at the hotel bureau to prepare my bill, and insert my name on the list of departures by the afternoon express, the 1. 41 P.

M.

for Modane and Italy.

It was quite certain that I should not be allowed to go off alone.

And suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, came a complete change in the situation.

Not long after I had consumed my morning _café au lait_ and rolls, the conventional _petit déjeuner_ of French custom, a letter was brought to my bedside, where, again according to rule, I was resting after my bath.

I expected no letters, no one except the porter of my London club knew my present address, and the interval was too short since my telegram to him to allow of letters reaching me in the ordinary course of the post.

I turned over the strange missive, the address in a lady's hand quite unknown to me, examining it closely, as one does when mystified, guessing vainly at a solution instead of settling it by instantly breaking the seal.

When at last I opened it my eye went first to the signature.

To my utter amazement I read the name, "Henriette Standish."

It was dated from the Hôtel de Modena, Aix-les-Bains, a small private hotel quite in the suburbs in the direction of the Grand Port, and it ran as follows: "DEAR COLONEL ANNESLEY:--I have only just seen in the _Gazette des Etrangers_ that you are staying in Aix.

I also am here, having been unable to proceed on my journey as I intended after meeting my sister at Culoz.

I thought of remaining here a few days longer, but I have also read Lord Blackadder's name in the list.

"What is to be done?

I am horribly frightened, and greatly vexed with myself for having put myself in this painful and most embarrassing position.

"May I venture to ask your counsel and help?

I beg and entreat you will come to me as soon as possible after receipt of this.

Ask for Mrs. Blair.

Although I have never had the pleasure of meeting you, your extreme kindness to Claire emboldens me to make this appeal to you.

I shall be at home all the morning.

Indeed, I have hardly left the house yet, and certainly shall not do so now that I know _he_ is here.

"Always very gratefully and sincerely yours, "HENRIETTE STANDISH."

Here was a pretty kettle of fish!

Lady Blackadder in Aix!

Was there ever such a broken reed of a woman?

Already she had spoilt her sister's nice combinations by turning back from Amberieu when the road to safety with her darling child lay open to her.

Now for the second time she was putting our plans in jeopardy.

How could I hope to lure her pursuers away to a distance when she was here actually on the spot, and might be run into at any moment?

For the present all my movements were in abeyance.

I had reason to fear--how much reason I did not even then realize--they would be interfered with, and that a terrible collapse threatened us.

I dressed hurriedly and walked down to the Hôtel Modena, where I was instantly received.

"Mrs. Blair" had given orders that I should be admitted the moment I appeared.

I had had one glimpse of this tall, graceful creature, who so exactly reproduced the beautiful traits of her twin sister that she might indeed at a distance be taken for her double.

There was the same proud carriage of her head, the same lithe figure, even her musical voice when she greeted me with shy cordiality might have been the voice of Lady Claire.

But the moment I looked into her face I saw a very distinct difference, not in outward feature, but in the inward character that is revealed by the eyes, the lines of the mouth, the shape of the lower jaw.

In Lady Claire the first were steady and spoke of high courage, of firm, fixed purpose; the mouth, as perfectly curved as Cupid's bow, was resolute and determined, the well-shaped, rounded chin was held erect, and might easily become defiant, even aggressive.

Lady Henriette was evidently cast in another mould.

Her eyes, of the same violet blue, were pretty, pleading, soft in expression, but often downcast and deprecating; the mouth and chin were weak and irresolute.

It was the same lovely face as Lady Claire's, and to some might seem the sweeter, indicating the tender, clinging, yielding nature that commonly appeals to the stronger sex; but to me she lost in every respect by comparison with her more energetic, self-reliant sister.

I heard the explanation, such as it was, without the smallest surprise; it was very much what I expected now when I was permitted to know and appreciate her better.

"What shall I say, Colonel Annesley, and what will you think of me?"

she began plaintively, almost piteously.

"But the moment I found I had to part with my child my courage broke down.

I became incapable of doing anything.

I seemed quite paralyzed.

I am not brave, you know, like my dearest Claire, or strong-minded, and I quite collapsed."

"But I hope and trust you have made the exchange.

Lady Claire has little Lord Aspdale and has left you the dummy?

Tell me, I beg."

"Oh, yes, yes, we made the exchange," she replied, in such a faltering, undecided voice that I doubted, and yet could not bring myself to believe that she was not telling the truth.

"So much depends upon it, you see.

Everything indeed.

It would be a very serious matter if--if--" "The contrary was the case," I wanted to say, yet how could I?

I

should be charging her directly with wilfully misleading me, and deceiving me in this moment of extreme peril.

"But what will happen now?"

she said, her voice faltering, her eyes filling, and seemingly on the very verge of hysterics.

"What if Blackadder should find that I am here, and--and--" "He can do nothing to you unless he has a right to act, unless," I answered unhesitatingly and a little cruelly perhaps, regardless of the scared look in her face, "you have good reason to dread his interference.

Lady Henriette, you have not been quite straight with me, I fear.

Where is little Lord Aspdale?"

"In there!"

she pointed to an inner room, and burst into uncontrollable tears.

CHAPTER XXIV.

To say that I was aghast at the discovery of Lady Blackadder, or, as she preferred to call herself, Lady Henriette Standish, in Aix, and with the precious child, would but imperfectly express my feelings.

For the moment I was so utterly taken aback that I could decide upon no new plan of action.

I sat there helplessly staring at the poor creature, so full of grief and remorse that I was quite unable to rise to the occasion.

I had counted so securely upon tricking Lord Blackadder into a barren pursuit that my disappointment was overwhelming and paralyzed my inventiveness.

Only by slow degrees did I evolve certain definite facts and conclusions.

The most essential thing was to get Lord Blackadder away from Aix.

So long as he remained he was an ever present danger; our game was up directly he awoke to the true state of affairs.

He could appeal now to the police with better result than when claiming my condign punishment.

How was he to be got away?

By drawing him after me.

Clearly I must go, and that not alone, but take them with me, following me under the positive impression that I was leading them straight to their goal.

Not one hint, not the slightest suspicion must be permitted to reach them that their quarry was here, just under their feet.

Undoubtedly I must adhere to my first plan.

When I had gone on with the others at my heels, the coast would be clear for Lady Henriette, and she must double back once more and go into safe hiding somewhere, while the hunt overshot its quarry and rolled on.

So soon as Lady Blackadder recovered from her agitation, I essayed to win her approval of my plans.

But the idea of parting from me now that she had laid hold of me was so repugnant to her that she yielded once more to her nerves.

"I beg and implore you, Colonel Annesley, not to leave me again.

I

cannot possibly stay here alone.

Let me go with you, please, please.

I'll do what you like, disguise myself, go third class, anything; but for goodness' sake don't desert me, or I don't know what will happen."

"There is simply no help for it, Lady Henriette.

You simply must.

It is imperative that you should remain here at least for a day or two while the others clear out of your way.

It would be quite fatal if they saw you or you came across them."

"Oh, you're too cruel, it is perfectly inhuman.

I shall tell Claire, I am sure she will take my part.

Oh, why isn't she here, why did I let her leave me?

I think I am the most wretched and ill-used woman alive."

These lamentations and indirect reproaches rather hardened my heart.

The woman was so unreasonable, so little mindful of what was being done for her, that I lost my patience, and said very stiffly: "Lady Henriette, let us quite understand one another.

Do you want to keep your child?

I tell you candidly there is only one way to save it."

"My darling Aspdale!

Of course I want to keep him.

How can you suggest such a horrid idea?

It is not a bit what I expected from you.

Claire told me--never mind what; but please understand that I will never give my baby up."

I was nettled by her perverseness, and although I tried hard to school myself to patience, it was exceedingly difficult.

"Indeed, Lady Henriette, I have no desire to separate you from your child, nor would I counsel you under any circumstances to give it up.

But quite certainly while you are here in Aix you are in imminent danger of losing it.

You ought never to have kept it--it was madness to come here and run straight into the jaws of danger."

"How was I to know?"

she retorted, now quite angrily.

"I really think it is too bad of you to reproach me.

You are most unkind."

"Dear, dear," I said fretfully, "this is all beside the question.

What is most urgent is to shield and save you now when the peril is most pressing."

"And yet you propose to leave me to fight it out alone?

Is that reasonable?

Is it generous, chivalrous, to desert a poor woman in her extremity?"

"I protest, you must not put it like that.

I have explained the necessity.

Surely you must see that it would be madness, quite fatal for us, to be seen together, or for you to be seen at all.

I must still hoodwink them by going off this afternoon."

"And leave me without protection, with all I have at stake?

If only Claire was here."

"It wouldn't mend matters much, except that Lady Claire would side with me."

"Oh, yes, you say that, you believe she thinks so much of you and your opinion that she would agree to anything you suggest."

"Mine is the safest and the only course," I replied, I am afraid with some heat.

"You must, you shall take it."

"Upon my word, Colonel Annesley, you speak to me as if I were a private soldier.

Be good enough to remember that I am not under your orders.

I claim to decide for myself how I shall act."

She was no longer piteous or beseeching; her tears had dried, a flush of colour had risen to her cheeks, and it was evident that her despair had given place to very distinct temper.

I was in a rage myself, and sprang to my feet with a sharp exclamation of disgust.

"Really, Lady Henriette, you will drive me to wash my hands of the whole business.

But I came into it to oblige your sister, and I owe it to her to do my best without reference to you.

I have marked out a line for myself, and I shall follow it.

Unless you are disposed to change your views, I shall stick to mine; and I do not see the use of prolonging this interview.

I will bid you good day."

I moved towards the door, still keeping an eye on her, believing her to be quite set in her fatuous refusal to hear reason.

She still held herself erect and defiant, and there seemed to be small hope of doing anything with her.

Then suddenly I saw symptoms of giving way.

Signals of distress were hung out in her quivering lip and the nervous twitching of her hands.

All at once she broke down and cried passionately: "No, no, no; you must not leave me--not like that.

I cannot bear it; I am too miserable, too agitated, too terrified.

I have no one to lean on but you.

What shall I do?

What shall I do?"

And she collapsed into a chair, weeping as if her heart would break.

The situation was awkward, embarrassing.

At another time I might have been puzzled how to deal with it, but this was a moment of supreme emergency.

A great crisis was imminent, the ruin of our scheme and the downfall of our hopes were certainly at hand if I gave way to her.

Everything depended upon my action, and I knew that the only chance of safety lay in the execution of my design.

This being so, her tears made no great impression on me.

I may be called a hard-hearted brute, but I really had no great sympathy with her in her lamentations.

It was not an occasion for tears, I felt; and I must be firm and unwavering, whatever she might think of me.

I

counted, at any rate, and with some assurance, on the approval of Lady Claire if the details of this painful scene should ever come to her ears.

Nor could I wait till she chose to regain her composure.

Time was too precious to be wasted in any attempts to win her back to common sense, and without waiting for permission I crossed the room, rang the bell, and begged the waiter to summon the lady's maid.

She was a strongly built, matter-of-fact French woman, probably not easily disturbed; but she glanced apprehensively at her mistress, and turned a suspicious look on me.

"You had better see to your lady," I said sharply.

"She has an attack of nerves.

I've no doubt it will soon pass, but I'm afraid I have imparted some distressing news.

Be good enough to tell her when she recovers that I shall come back in half an hour, when I trust she will be ready to accompany me."

"What is this?"

broke in Lady Henriette, suddenly interposing and evidently roused to deep interest in my words.

"Accompany you?

Where, I should like to know?"

"Is that of much consequence?

You have entreated me not to leave you.

Well, we shall not part; I propose to take you away with me.

Do you object?

It was your own wish."

"I retract that.

I will not go with you; certainly not in the dark.

You must tell me first where you think of going, what you mean to do.

Is it likely that I should trust myself alone with an almost complete stranger--a man who has shown me so little consideration, who has been so unkind, so cruel, and who now wants to carry me off goodness knows where, because he is so _obstinately determined_ that his is the right way to proceed."

"Lady Henriette," I said civilly but very coldly, and putting the drag on myself, for I confess she was trying me very hard, "let there be no misunderstanding between us.

Either you consent to my proposals absolutely and unhesitatingly, or I shall withdraw altogether from your service.

I have felt that I had a duty to Lady Claire, and I have been honestly anxious to discharge it, but by your present attitude I feel myself absolved from that duty.

I am not unwilling to accept responsibility, but only if I am allowed to act as I please."

"Oh, how like a man!

Of course you must have your own way, and every one else must give in to you," she cried with aggravating emphasis, giving me no credit for trying to choose the wisest course.

"I know I'm right," I urged, a little feebly perhaps, for I was nearly worn out by her prejudice and utterly illogical refusal to see how the land lay.

But I quickly recovered myself, and said quite peremptorily, "You shall have half an hour to make up your mind, not a minute more, Lady Henriette.

You shall give me my answer when I return.

I warn you that I shall bring a carriage in half an hour, and I strongly advise you to be ready to start with me.

Have everything packed, please, and the bill paid.

I will take no denial, remember that."