Chapter Chapter 19 · AN ENEMY IN THE DARK

. AN ENEMY IN THE DARK

Adam Salton went for a walk before returning to Lesser Hill; he felt that

it might be well, not only to steady his nerves, shaken by the horrible

scene, but to get his thoughts into some sort of order, so as to be ready

to enter on the matter with Sir Nathaniel. He was a little embarrassed

as to telling his uncle, for affairs had so vastly progressed beyond his

original view that he felt a little doubtful as to what would be the old

gentleman's attitude when he should hear of the strange events for the

first time. Mr. Salton would certainly not be satisfied at being treated

as an outsider with regard to such things, most of which had points of

contact with the inmates of his own house. It was with an immense sense

of relief that Adam heard that his uncle had telegraphed to the

housekeeper that he was detained by business at Walsall, where he would

remain for the night; and that he would be back in the morning in time

for lunch.

When Adam got home after his walk, he found Sir Nathaniel just going to

bed. He did not say anything to him then of what had happened, but

contented himself with arranging that they would walk together in the

early morning, as he had much to say that would require serious

attention.

Strangely enough he slept well, and awoke at dawn with his mind clear and

his nerves in their usual unshaken condition. The maid brought up, with

his early morning cup of tea, a note which had been found in the letter-

box. It was from Lady Arabella, and was evidently intended to put him on

his guard as to what he should say about the previous evening.

He read it over carefully several times, before he was satisfied that he

had taken in its full import.

"DEAR MR. SALTON,

"I cannot go to bed until I have written to you, so you must forgive

me if I disturb you, and at an unseemly time. Indeed, you must also

forgive me if, in trying to do what is right, I err in saying too much

or too little. The fact is that I am quite upset and unnerved by all

that has happened in this terrible night. I find it difficult even to

write; my hands shake so that they are not under control, and I am

trembling all over with memory of the horrors we saw enacted before

our eyes. I am grieved beyond measure that I should be, however

remotely, a cause of this horror coming on you. Forgive me if you

can, and do not think too hardly of me. This I ask with confidence,

for since we shared together the danger--the very pangs--of death, I

feel that we should be to one another something more than mere

friends, that I may lean on you and trust you, assured that your

sympathy and pity are for me. You really must let me thank you for

the friendliness, the help, the confidence, the real aid at a time of

deadly danger and deadly fear which you showed me. That awful man--I

shall see him for ever in my dreams. His black, malignant face will

shut out all memory of sunshine and happiness. I shall eternally see

his evil eyes as he threw himself into that well-hole in a vain effort

to escape from the consequences of his own misdoing. The more I think

of it, the more apparent it seems to me that he had premeditated the

whole thing--of course, except his own horrible death.

"Perhaps you have noticed a fur collar I occasionally wear. It is one

of my most valued treasures--an ermine collar studded with emeralds. I

had often seen the nigger's eyes gleam covetously when he looked at

it. Unhappily, I wore it yesterday. That may have been the cause

that lured the poor man to his doom. On the very brink of the abyss

he tore the collar from my neck--that was the last I saw of him. When

he sank into the hole, I was rushing to the iron door, which I pulled

behind me. When I heard that soul-sickening yell, which marked his

disappearance in the chasm, I was more glad than I can say that my

eyes were spared the pain and horror which my ears had to endure.

"When I tore myself out of the negro's grasp as he sank into the well-

hole; I realised what freedom meant. Freedom! Freedom! Not only

from that noisome prison-house, which has now such a memory, but from

the more noisome embrace of that hideous monster. Whilst I live, I

shall always thank you for my freedom. A woman must sometimes express

her gratitude; otherwise it becomes too great to bear. I am not a

sentimental girl, who merely likes to thank a man; I am a woman who

knows all, of bad as well as good, that life can give. I have known

what it is to love and to lose. But you must not let me bring any

unhappiness into your life. I must live on--as I have lived--alone,

and, in addition, bear with other woes the memory of this latest

insult and horror. In the meantime, I must get away as quickly as

possible from Diana's Grove. In the morning I shall go up to town,

where I shall remain for a week--I cannot stay longer, as business

affairs demand my presence here. I think, however, that a week in the

rush of busy London, surrounded with multitudes of commonplace people,

will help to soften--I cannot expect total obliteration--the terrible

images of the bygone night. When I can sleep easily--which will be, I

hope, after a day or two--I shall be fit to return home and take up

again the burden which will, I suppose, always be with me.

"I shall be most happy to see you on my return--or earlier, if my good

fortune sends you on any errand to London. I shall stay at the

Mayfair Hotel. In that busy spot we may forget some of the dangers

and horrors we have shared together. Adieu, and thank you, again and

again, for all your kindness and consideration to me.

"ARABELLA MARSH."

Adam was surprised by this effusive epistle, but he determined to say

nothing of it to Sir Nathaniel until he should have thought it well over.

When Adam met Sir Nathaniel at breakfast, he was glad that he had taken

time to turn things over in his mind. The result had been that not only

was he familiar with the facts in all their bearings, but he had already

so far differentiated them that he was able to arrange them in his own

mind according to their values. Breakfast had been a silent function, so

it did not interfere in any way with the process of thought.

So soon as the door was closed, Sir Nathaniel began:

"I see, Adam, that something has occurred, and that you have much to tell

me."

"That is so, sir. I suppose I had better begin by telling you all I

know--all that has happened since I left you yesterday?"

Accordingly Adam gave him details of all that had happened during the

previous evening. He confined himself rigidly to the narration of

circumstances, taking care not to colour events by any comment of his

own, or any opinion of the meaning of things which he did not fully

understand. At first, Sir Nathaniel seemed disposed to ask questions,

but shortly gave this up when he recognised that the narration was

concise and self-explanatory. Thenceforth, he contented himself with

quick looks and glances, easily interpreted, or by some acquiescent

motions of his hands, when such could be convenient, to emphasise his

idea of the correctness of any inference. Until Adam ceased speaking,

having evidently come to an end of what he had to say with regard to this

section of his story, the elder man made no comment whatever. Even when

Adam took from his pocket Lady Arabella's letter, with the manifest

intention of reading it, he did not make any comment. Finally, when Adam

folded up the letter and put it, in its envelope, back in his pocket, as

an intimation that he had now quite finished, the old diplomatist

carefully made a few notes in his pocket-book.

"Your narrative, my dear Adam, is altogether admirable. I think I may

now take it that we are both well versed in the actual facts, and that

our conference had better take the shape of a mutual exchange of ideas.

Let us both ask questions as they may arise; and I do not doubt that we

shall arrive at some enlightening conclusions."

"Will you kindly begin, sir? I do not doubt that, with your longer

experience, you will be able to dissipate some of the fog which envelops

certain of the things which we have to consider."

"I hope so, my dear boy. For a beginning, then, let me say that Lady

Arabella's letter makes clear some things which she intended--and also

some things which she did not intend. But, before I begin to draw

deductions, let me ask you a few questions. Adam, are you heart-whole,

quite heart-whole, in the matter of Lady Arabella?"

His companion answered at once, each looking the other straight in the

eyes during question and answer.

"Lady Arabella, sir, is a charming woman, and I should have deemed it a

privilege to meet her--to talk to her--even--since I am in the

confessional--to flirt a little with her. But if you mean to ask if my

affections are in any way engaged, I can emphatically answer 'No!'--as

indeed you will understand when presently I give you the reason. Apart

from that, there are the unpleasant details we discussed the other day."

"Could you--would you mind giving me the reason now? It will help us to

understand what is before us, in the way of difficulty."

"Certainly, sir. My reason, on which I can fully depend, is that I love

another woman!"

"That clinches it. May I offer my good wishes, and, I hope, my

congratulations?"

"I am proud of your good wishes, sir, and I thank you for them. But it

is too soon for congratulations--the lady does not even know my hopes

yet. Indeed, I hardly knew them myself, as definite, till this moment."

"I take it then, Adam, that at the right time I may be allowed to know

who the lady is?"

Adam laughed a low, sweet laugh, such as ripples from a happy heart.

"There need not be an hour's, a minute's delay. I shall be glad to share

my secret with you, sir. The lady, sir, whom I am so happy as to love,

and in whom my dreams of life-long happiness are centred, is Mimi

Watford!"

"Then, my dear Adam, I need not wait to offer congratulations. She is

indeed a very charming young lady. I do not think I ever saw a girl who

united in such perfection the qualities of strength of character and

sweetness of disposition. With all my heart, I congratulate you. Then I

may take it that my question as to your heart-wholeness is answered in

the affirmative?"

"Yes; and now, sir, may I ask in turn why the question?"

"Certainly! I asked because it seems to me that we are coming to a point

where my questions might be painful to you."

"It is not merely that I love Mimi, but I have reason to look on Lady

Arabella as her enemy," Adam continued.

"Her enemy?"

"Yes. A rank and unscrupulous enemy who is bent on her destruction."

Sir Nathaniel went to the door, looked outside it and returned, locking

it carefully behind him.