"The Duke?" she murmured.

"He wishes to see you," I repeated. "Shall I tell him that you will call at four o'clock this afternoon, or will you go back with me?"

"Do you mean this?" she asked in a low tone. "I do not understand it.

I have never seen the Duke in my life."

"I understand no more than you do," I a.s.sured her. "That is the message."

"I do not promise to come," she said. "I must think it over."

My father pushed her roughly away.

"Come, there's been enough of this fooling," he declared roughly. "Guy, sit down again, my boy. We must have another talk about this matter."

I turned upon him in a momentary fit of pa.s.sion.

"I have no more to say, sir," I declared. "It seems that you are not content with ruining your own life and overshadowing mine. You want to drag me, too, down into the slough."

"You don't understand, my dear boy!"

The door opened and Ray entered. My bundle of papers slipped from my fingers on to the floor in the excitement of the moment.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

MYSELF AND MY STEPMOTHER

I Saw then what a man's face may look like when he is stricken with a sudden paralysing fear. I saw my father sit in his chair and shake from head to foot. Ray's black eyes seemed to be flashing upon us all the most unutterable scorn.

"What is this pleasant meeting which I seem to have interrupted, eh?" he asked, with fierce sarcasm. "Quite a family reunion!"

My stepmother, very pale, but very calm, answered him.

"To which you," she said, "come an uninvited guest."

He laughed harshly.

"You shall have others, other uninvited guests, before many hours are past," he declared. "You remember my warning, Ducaine."

My father seemed to me to be on the eve of a collapse. His lips moved, and he mumbled something, but the words were wholly unintelligible. Ray turned to my stepmother.

"When that man," he continued, "had the effrontery to return to this country, he sent his cursed jackal with letters to his son. I intercepted those letters, and I burned them; but I came straight to London, and I found him out. I told him then that I spared him only for the sake of his son. I told him that if ever again he attempted in any way to communicate with him, personally or by letter, nothing should stay my hand. He had a very clear warning. He has chosen to defy me.

I only regret, madam, that the law has no hold upon you also."

She turned from him scornfully and laid her hand upon my father's shoulder. Her very touch seemed to impart life to him. His words were not very coherent, but they were comprehensible.

"I kept my word, Ray. Yes, I kept my word," he said. "I never sent for him. Ask him; ask her. We met by accident. I told him my address.

That is all. He came here this afternoon with a message from the Duke."

Ray laughed bitterly. There was about his manner a cold and singular aloofness. We were all judged and condemned.

"An invitation to dinner, I presume," he remarked.

"The Duke sent for me," my stepmother said, quietly.

She did not for a moment quail before the scornful disbelief which Ray took no pains to hide.

"You can see for yourself if you like," she continued, "that in a few minutes I shall leave this house, with you, if you are gallant enough to offer me your escort, and I shall go straight to Cavendish Square. You have no imagination, Colonel Ray, or you would not be so utterly surprised. Think for a moment. Does no reason occur to you why the Duke might wish to see me?"

It obviously did. He frowned heavily.

"If this absurd story is true," he said, "and the Duke has really sent to ask news of Blenavon from you--well, he is a bigger fool than I took him for. But there remains something else to be explained. What are those papers?"

My father laid his trembling hands upon them.

"They have nothing to do with you," he explained; "nothing at all! It is a little family matter-between Guy and me. Nothing more. They belong to me. d.a.m.n you, Ray, why are you always interfering in my concerns?"

Ray turned to me. There was a look in his eyes which I readily understood. At that moment I think that I hated him.

"What are those papers?" he asked.

"Take them and see," I answered. "If I told you you would not believe me."

He moved a few steps towards them, and then paused. I saw that my father was leaning forward, and in his shaking hand was a tiny gleaming revolver. A certain desperate courage seemed to have come to him.

"Ray," he cried hoa.r.s.ely, "touch them at your peril!"

There was a moment's breathless silence. Then with an incredibly swift movement my stepmother stepped in between and s.n.a.t.c.hed up the little roll. She glanced behind at the grate, but the fire was almost extinct.

With a little gesture of despair she held them out to me. "Take them, Guy," she cried.

Ray stood by my side, and I felt his hand descend like a vice upon my shoulder.

"Give me those papers," he demanded.

I hesitated for a moment. Then I obeyed him. I heard a little sob from behind. The pistol had fallen from my father's shaking fingers, his head had fallen forwards upon his hands. A tardy remorse seemed for a moment to have pierced the husk of his colossal selfishness.

"It is all my fault, my fault!" he muttered.

My stepmother turned upon him, pale to the lips, with blazing eyes.

"You are out of your senses," she exclaimed. "Guy, this man is a bully.

All his life it has been his pleasure to persecute the weak and defenceless. The papers are yours. I do not know what they are, nor does he," she added, pointing to where my father still crouched before the table. "Don't let him frighten you into giving them up. He is trying to drag you into the mesh with us. Don't let him! You have nothing to do with us, thank Heaven!"

She stopped suddenly, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the pistol from my father's nerveless grasp. Then her hand flashed out. Ray was covered, and her white fingers never quivered. Even Ray took a quick step backwards.

"Give him back those papers," she commanded.