“What have I to fear, pray?” she asked impatiently. “It seems you think me a weak, impressionable schoolgirl, who will tremble under your menaces. Why, the worst accusation you can make, is that I have been guilty of that crime so terrible to the eyes of the hypocritical English – unconventionality. Don’t you think I could easily disprove your statements, especially to a man who loves me?”
“Loves you!” repeated the artist, with a harsh, derisive laugh. “He wouldn’t be guilty of such romantic folly.”
“You are mistaken.”
“Then I can quickly put an end to his fool’s paradise.”
“How?” she asked breathlessly.
“I will find the means. If nothing else avails, he shall be made acquainted with the history of La – ”
“Hear me!” she interrupted fiercely. “We are both past masters in the art of lying, John Egerton; we have both led double lives, and graduated as deceivers. Breathe one word to him, and I swear that at any cost the world shall know your secret. You should know by this time how futile it is to trifle with me, especially when I hold the trump card. Hugh has been your friend, but now he is my lover; and, furthermore, I mean that he shall marry me.”
The man was silent.
He admitted to himself that her bold, passionate words were true. He was powerless to give his friend an insight into her true character, fearing the consequences, and knowing too well how relentless she was, and that she would not spare him.
“If I carry out my intentions and tell him everything – ”
“Then you will suffer, and in his eyes I shall remain immaculate,” she exclaimed quickly, watching his face intently.
Calm indifference had been succeeded by a wearied, anxious expression, and in his eyes there was a look of unutterable hatred. She waited for him to answer, but he continued smoking thoughtfully.
“Ne m’échauffez pas les oreilles,” she urged in a less irritated tone. “You must admit, Jack, there are certain bonds between us that for our own sakes must not be broken. The folly of disclosing my past to Hugh is palpable, for it would mean speedy ruin to yourself, and be of no possible benefit. Therefore but one solution of the difficulty remains.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I have already told you what form my revenge would take were you to expose me, and I think you acknowledge that to tell all I know would be most undesirable from your point of view.”
He bowed in assent.
“I’m glad you admit the inefficacy of your attempt to bounce me,” she continued. “I can suggest but one thing, namely, that we resolve to preserve our compact of secrecy.”
“At the cost of my friend’s happiness?”
“At any risk. But let me first assure you that Hugh’s happiness will not be jeopardised by the adoption of this course.”
“There will be no – er – danger, I suppose?”
“What do you mean?”
“Men die sometimes.”
“I don’t understand your insinuation. I confess I love him, so it is scarcely probable that any harm will befall him if it is in my power to prevent it.”
He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and frowned. Then he exclaimed decisively:
“Your words have no effect upon me. I am determined he shall judge you in your true light.”
She glanced at him in anxious surprise, for, truth to tell, she was unprepared for this bold reply. She hesitated whether she should change her tactics, as she was well acquainted with his obdurate nature, and in her heart feared to lose the man whose tender passion she half reciprocated. But her quick, impetuous character quickly asserted itself, and attained the mastery.
“You – you blighted my life!” she cried in a towering rage, her face blanched with passion. “And even now, when I have an opportunity, you debar me from atoning for the past, and becoming an honest woman! I am not such a blind fool, however, as to bow calmly to your tyranny. I have already sacrificed too much, so I give you but one chance to save yourself.”
“To save myself. Bah! you are talking nonsense.”
“No, believe me, I’m not,” she declared, her dark eyes flashing with anger. “Either you give your promise of secrecy now, at once, or before the day is out I will give you up to the police.”
Jack Egerton drew a long breath, and his countenance grew visibly paler. He was cornered, and saw no possible means of evading the dire alternative. If he divulged the secret, it would mean disgrace, ruin, even worse.
She smiled triumphantly at his bewilderment. It was true, as she assured him, she held the trump card, and was playing the dangerous game dexterously, as only a clever, scheming woman could.
“Which do you choose?” she asked in a cool, indifferent tone, as if putting forward some very commonplace plan.
“You’re an idiot,” he exclaimed in vehement disgust.
“I’m well aware of that fact, mon ami,” replied she, with a supercilious curl of the lip. “Such a compliment is particularly appropriate. I was an idiot to allow you to have the freedom you now enjoy. Remember, however, I have yet a talisman that will sooner or later cause you to cringe at my feet.”
“Never.”
“Then you must put up with the consequences,” she answered calmly, nervously twisting the ribbons of her sunshade. “But I warn you, that if we are to be enemies you will find me even more merciless than yourself. Your own folly alone will bring upon you the retribution you so richly deserve.”
“Bah! what’s the use of being dramatic? If it’s a fight between us, your record is quite as black as mine.”
“Ah! you would have to prove that; but in the meantime I should have the satisfaction of seeing you sent to penal servitude. You have been acquainted with me long enough to know that I do nothing by halves. I am determined that now, before we part, you shall swear to keep my secret, or I will put you in a convict’s cell.”
“But think of the injury you would – ”
“Enough! Words are useless. You must choose now.”
Her handsome face was perfectly impassive; a cruel, sarcastic smile played about her lips.
She had been watching his features narrowly, for the pallor and the nervous twitchings clearly showed the agitation her decisive alternative had produced. Passionate love for Hugh Trethowen had alone prompted her, for she saw that if this man gave him an insight into her past he would turn his back upon her in ineffable disgust. Hers was a Bohemian nature, and she had led a strangely adventurous life, though few were aware of it. Her early education in the Montmartre quarter of Paris had effectually eradicated any principles she might have originally possessed, and up to this time she had enjoyed the freedom of being absolute mistress of her actions. Yet, strangely enough, now she had met Hugh, her admiration of his character had quickly developed into that intense affection which is frequently characteristic of women of her temperament, and she discovered that his love was indispensable to her existence. There was but one barrier to her happiness. Egerton knew more of the unpleasant incidents of her life than was desirable, and for the protection of her own interests she was compelled to silence him.
From the expression on his face she felt she had gained her point, and rose with a feeling of absolute triumph.
“Now,” she demanded impatiently, “what is your decision?”
“Your secret shall be kept on one condition only,” he said, rising slowly, and standing beside her.
“What is that, pray?”
“That no harm shall befall Hugh,” he replied earnestly. “You understand my meaning, Valérie?”
“It