General Lennox, standing by the table, with one candle on the chimneypiece and his gla.s.ses to his eyes, read aloud, with some little stumbling, these words from the letter of Monsieur Varbarriere:--

"The reason of my so doing will be obvious when I say that I have certain circ.u.mstances to lay before you which nearly affect your honour.

I decline making any detailed statement by letter; nor will I explain my meaning at Marlowe Manor. But if, without _fracas_, you will give me a private meeting, at any place between this and London, I will make it my business to see you, when I shall satisfy you that I have not made this request without the gravest reasons."

"Those are the pa.s.sages, sir, on which you are so good as to offer me an explanation; and first, there's the phrase, you know, 'certain circ.u.mstances to lay before you which nearly affect your _honour_;'

that's a word, you know, sir, that a fellow _feels_ in a way--in a way that can't be triffled with."

"Certainly. Put your question, General Lennox, how you please," answered Varbarriere, with a grave bow.

"Well, how--how--exactly--I'll--I will put my question. I'd like to know, sir, in what relation--in--yes--in what relation, as a soldier, sir, or as a gentleman, sir, or as--_what_?"

"I am very much concerned to say, sir, that it is in the very nearest and most sacred interest, sir--as a _husband_."

General Lennox had sat down by this time, and was gazing with a frank stern stare full into the dark countenance of his visitor; and in reply he made two short little nods, clearing his voice, and lowering his eyes to the table.

It was a very trifling way of taking it. But Varbarriere saw his face flush fiercely up to the very roots of his silver hair, and he fancied he could see the vessels throbbing in his temples.

"I--very good, sir--thank you," said the General, looking up fiercely and shaking his ears, but speaking in a calm tone.

"Go on, pray--let me know--I say--in G.o.d's name, don't keep me."

"Now, sir, I'll tell it to you briefly--I'll afterwards go into whatever proof you desire. I have reason, I deeply regret it, to believe--in fact to know--that an immoral intimacy exists between Sir Jekyl Marlowe and Lady Jane Lennox."

"It's a lie, sir!" screamed the General--"a d.a.m.ned lie, sir--a d.a.m.ned lie, sir--a _d.a.m.ned_ lie, sir."

His gouty claw was advanced trembling as if to clutch the m.u.f.fler that was folded about Monsieur Varbarriere's throat, but he dropped back in his seat again shaking, and ran his fingers through his white hair several times. There was a silence which even M. Varbarriere did not like.

Varbarriere was not the least offended at his violence. He knew quite well that the General did not understand what he said, or mean, or remember it--that it was only the wild protest of agony. For the first time he felt a compunction about that old foozle, who had hitherto somehow counted for nothing in the game he was playing, and he saw him, years after, as he had shrieked at him that night, with his claw stretched towards his throat, ludicrous, and also terrible.

"My G.o.d! sir," cried the old man, with a quaver that sounded like a laugh, "do you tell me so?"

"It's true, sir," said Varbarriere.

"Now, sir, I'll not interrupt you--tell all, pray--hide nothing," said the General.

"I was, sir, accidentally witness to a conversation which is capable of no other interpretation; and I have legal proof of the existence of a secret door, connecting the apartment which has been a.s.signed to you, at Marlowe, with Sir Jekyl's room."

"The d.a.m.ned villain! What a fool," and then very fiercely he suddenly added, "You can prove all this, sir? I hope you can."

"All this, and more, sir. I suspect, sir, there will hardly be an attempt to deny it."

"Oh, sir, it's terrible; but I was such a fool. I had no business--I deserve it all. Who'd have imagined such villains? But, d---- me, sir, I can't believe it."

There was a tone of anguish in the old man's voice which made even his grotesque and feeble talk terrible.

"I say there can't be such devils on earth;" and then he broke into an incoherent story of all his trust and love, and all that Jane owed him, and of her nature which was frank and generous, and how she never hid a thought from him--open as heaven, sir. What business was it of his, d---- him! What did he mean by trying to set a man against his wife? No one but a scoundrel ever did it.

Varbarriere stood erect.

"You may submit how you like, sir, to your fate; but you shan't insult me, sir, without answering it. My note left it optional to you to exact my information or to remain in the darkness, which it seems you prefer.

If you wish it, I'll make my bow--it's nothing to me, but two can play at that game. I've fought perhaps oftener than you, and you shan't bully _me_."

"I suppose you're right, sir--don't go, pray--I think I'm half _mad_, sir," said General Lennox, despairingly.

"Sir, I make allowance--I forgive your language, but if you want to talk to me, it must be with proper respect. I'm as good a gentleman as you; my statement is, of course, strictly true, and if you please you can test it."

CHAPTER IX.

Guy Deverell at Slowton.

"Come, sir, I have a right to know it--have you not an object in fooling me?" said General Lennox, relapsing all on a sudden into his ferocious vein.

"In telling you the truth, sir, I _have_ an object, perhaps--but seeing that it _is_ the truth, and concerns you so nearly, you need not trouble yourself about _my_ object," answered Varbarriere, with more self-command than was to have been expected.

"I _will_ test it, sir. I will try you," said the General, sternly.

"By -- -- I'll sift it to the bottom."

"So you ought, sir; that's what I mean to help you to," said Varbarriere.

"How, sir?--say _how_, and by Heaven, sir, I'll shoot him like a dog."

"The way to do it I've considered. I shall place you _probably_ in possession of such proof as will thoroughly convince you."

"Thank you, sir, go on."

"I shall be at Marlowe to-morrow--you must arrive late--on no account earlier than half-past twelve. I will arrange to have you admitted by the gla.s.s door--through the conservatory. Don't bring your vehicle beyond the bridge, and leave your luggage at the Marlowe Arms. The object, sir, is this," said Varbarriere, with deliberate emphasis, observing that the General's grim countenance did not look as apprehensive as he wished, "that your arrival shall be unsuspected. No one must know anything of it except myself and another, until you shall have reached your room. Do you see?"

"Thanks, sir--yes," answered the General, looking as unsatisfactorily as before.

"There are two recesses with shelves--one to the right, the other to the left of the bed's head as you look from the door. The secret entrance I have mentioned lies through that at the right. You must not permit any alarm which may be intended to reach Sir Jekyl. Secure the door, and do you sit up and watch. There's a way of securing the secret door from the inside--which I'll explain--that would _prevent_ his entrance--don't allow it. The whole--pardon me, sir--_intrigue_ will in that case be disclosed without the possibility of a prevarication. You have followed me, I hope, distinctly."

"I--I'm a little flurried, I believe, sir; I have to apologise. I'll ask you, by-and-by, to repeat it. I think I should like to be alone, sir.

She wrote me a letter, sir--I wish I had died when I got it."

When Varbarriere looked at him, he saw that the old East Indian was crying.

"Sir, I grieve with you," said Varbarriere, funereally. "You can command my presence whenever you please to send for me. I shall remain in this house. It will be absolutely necessary, of course, that you should see me again."

"Thank you, sir. I know--I'm sure you mean kindly--but G.o.d only knows all it is."

He had shaken his hand very affectionately, without any meaning--without knowing that he had done so.

Varbarriere said--