The Man Who Rose Again - Part 18
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Part 18

"I do not believe it," said Sprague. "The Ethiopian cannot change his skin, nor the leopard his spots. I believe he is simply playing a game.

As for his giving up the drink, yes, that may be possible. I believe Leicester is capable of doing anything whereby he can have his way.

You'll find that at the end he'll wriggle out of it."

"I don't say that," said Purvis. "Why should he? As we know, she will be a great heiress. There must be pots of money, and Leicester means to have the handling of it."

"It ought to be stopped," said Sprague.

"But how can it be stopped?" asked Winfield. "Even if we desired, we cannot hinder them from marrying. I am told that Miss Castlemaine is deeply in love with him."

"All the more reason why she should be told the truth."

"But she can't be. We have promised to hold our tongues, and--well, a promise is a promise."

"Not when given under such circ.u.mstances. We have no right to allow a woman to wreck her life. For Leicester will wreck her life."

"Personally I don't believe it," said Winfield. "Leicester is in love, and Leicester in love will be a model husband."

"Leicester in love! He is not capable of knowing what love means. The man who is capable of such a wager is not capable of making such as Miss Castlemaine happy."

"Anyhow, it is not our affair," said Winfield. "Besides, we've promised to hold our tongues, and we can do no other than keep our promise."

"But to ruin such a life as hers because of a mistaken idea of honour--well, isn't that worse than breaking a promise?"

"My own feeling is, let the affair go on," said Purvis. "At any rate, it may do her good."

At this moment Leicester entered the room. Seeing them together he made his way towards them. He was, as we have said, anxious for an opportunity of speaking to these men together.

The months which had elapsed since we first saw Leicester in this room had made a great change in him. Hope gleamed in his eyes, and with that look of hope had come a happier, healthier expression. It is true he often suffered from nervous attacks. Mother Nature will not be abused as he had abused her without exacting a terrible penalty. Still, his change of life was having its effect, and as a consequence the Leicester of a few months before was no longer the man who stood before them now.

"I am glad to meet you chaps," he said, as he came up to them, "and I think myself lucky in finding you all together. I want to speak to you."

Purvis and Sprague exchanged glances, and from the eyes of the latter an evil look shone. He had not forgiven Leicester for the many times he had held him up to ridicule, neither did he forgive him for being successful where he, Sprague, had failed.

"When last we were all together in this clubroom," said Leicester, speaking with an effort, for as may be imagined the thoughts in his mind were far from pleasant, "we--well, as you know, a kind of wager was made."

They waited for him to go on.

"As you know," he continued presently; "I--I--have----"

"Won the wager," said Sprague. "That being so, I shall be prepared to give my cheque to--what was it? Guy's Hospital. All the same, I think it is time that this farce should cease. It was unworthy of us all and for my own part I regret having had anything to do with it."

Sprague's tones, rather than his words, angered Leicester. The thought of the woman he loved more than all on earth being a.s.sociated with a wager maddened him.

"To whom shall I send my cheque, Leicester?" went on Sprague. "Purvis also wants to know. Having fulfilled our part of the business, you will, of course, also finish yours. It reflects no credit upon any of us."

"No," said Leicester, speaking very quietly. "If any cheque is sent, I will send it myself."

"You mean then that all we have heard is false, and that the young lady has refused you."

"What I mean does not affect you, providing I send the cheque," replied Leicester, still speaking quietly.

"Leicester has been converted at a drawing-room meeting, after all,"

said Sprague, with a sneer. "I hear he has adopted quite a different tone in his speeches. We shall see him addressing mothers' meetings yet."

Still Leicester kept himself under control, although Sprague tried him sorely.

"Come, Leicester," want on Sprague, "if you are converted, you ought to give up this unworthy business; if you are not, then you have no right to ruin a woman's life."

"I think I can mind my own business," said Leicester.

"But the question is, are you converted from the error of your ways?

Have you turned moral reformer, temperance lecturer, and the rest of it?"

"And if I have?"

"Oh, nothing--only I think it ought to be duly reported in the religious papers."

Leicester still kept himself under control, nevertheless Sprague's sneers were telling on him.

"Besides," went on his tormentor, "you've hardly played the game, Leicester. The understanding was that you were to win her as an atheist, hard drinker, and a cynic, whereas you've turned moral reformer. You've been wearing a mask."

"Well, that's not your business."

"I think it is. Anyhow, you admit that this engagement is a grim joke."

"I repeat that that is not your business," said Leicester; "if I send the cheque to the hospital, the matter is done with, as far as you are concerned."

"And you really mean to say that you are a reformed character? I sincerely congratulate you."

"If you mean by that that I believe in your profession or your drawing-room meetings, no. I regard them as I always did."

"Then you have been simply playing a part with Miss Castlemaine?"

"And if I have, what is that to you?"

He was scarcely master of himself now, or he would not have allowed the conversation to drift into such a channel. But the man angered him almost beyond words, all the more so because he was mixed up in the affair, of which he felt ashamed.

"You admit it, then. All this teetotalism, this tone of moral earnestness which you have introduced into your speeches--it's all to win your wager."

"And if it is!" he cried. "Have I ever pretended to believe in any of the whining sentimentality of the world? Have I not all along insisted that everything is a matter of price!"

He had meant to have said exactly opposite to this when he saw these men, but they had, in spite of himself, aroused him to a kind of unreasoning anger.

"I think Miss Castlemaine ought to know," said Sprague.

"Perhaps you mean to tell her?" he asked.

"I have thought of it, certainly."