Elster's Folly

He linked his arm within his friend's, and drew him to the window. It was broad daylight still, but gloomy there: the window had the pleasure of reposing under the leads, and was gloomy at noon. Lord Hartledon hesitated still. "Elster's folly!" were the words mechanically floating in the mind of Thomas Carr.

"It is an awful story, Carr; bad and wicked."

"Let me hear it at once," replied Thomas Carr.

"I am in danger of--of--in short, that person upstairs could have me apprehended to-night. I would not tell you but that I must do so. I must have advice, a.s.sistance; but you'll start from me when you hear it."

"I will stand by you, whatever it may be. If a man has ever need of a friend, it must be in his extremity."

Lord Hartledon stood, and whispered a strange tale. It was anything but coherent to the clear-minded barrister; nevertheless, as he gathered one or two of its points he did start back, as Hartledon had foretold, and an exclamation of dismay burst from his lips.

"And you could _marry_--with this hanging over your head!"

"Carr--"

The butler came in with an interruption.

"My lady wishes to know whether your lords.h.i.+p is going out with her to-night."

"Not to-night," answered Lord Hartledon, pointing to the door for the man to make his exit. "It is of her I think, not of myself," he murmured to Mr. Carr.

"And he"--the barrister pointed above to indicate the stranger--"threatens to have you apprehended on the charge?"

"I hardly know what he threatens. _You_ must deal with him, Carr; I cannot. Let us go; we are wasting time."

As they left the room to go upstairs Lady Hartledon came out of the dining-room and crossed their path. She was deeply mortified at her husband's bringing Mr. Carr to the house after what she had said; and most probably came out at the moment to confront them with her haughty and disapproving face. However that might have been, all other emotions gave place to surprise, when she saw _their_ faces, each bearing a livid look of fear.

"I hope you are well, Lady Hartledon," said Mr. Carr.

She would not see the offered hand, but swept onwards with a cold curtsey, stopping just a moment to speak to her husband.

"You are not going out with me, Lord Hartledon?"

"I cannot to-night, Maude. Business detains me."

She pa.s.sed up the stairs, vouchsafing no other word. They lingered a minute to let her get into the drawing-room.

"Poor Maude! What will become of her if this is brought home to me?"

"And if it is not brought home to you--the fact remains the same," said Mr. Carr, in his merciless truth.

"And our children, our children!" groaned Hartledon, a hot flush of dread arising in his white face.

They shut themselves in with the stranger,

Lady Hartledon's curiosity was excited. It had been aroused a little by the stranger himself; secondly by their scared faces; thirdly by this close conference.

"Who is that strange gentleman, Hedges?" she asked, from the drawing-room, as the butler descended.

"I don't know, my lady."

"What is his name?"

"I have not heard it, my lady."

"He looks like a clergyman."

"He does, my lady."

Apparently Hedges was impenetrable, and she allowed him to go down. Her curiosity was very much excited; it may be said, uneasily excited; there is no accounting for these instincts that come over us, shadowing forth a vague sense of dread. Although engaged out that night to more than one place, Lady Hartledon lingered on in the drawing-room.

They came out of the room at last and pa.s.sed the drawing-room door. She pushed it to, only peeping out when they had gone by. There was nothing to hear; they were talking of ordinary matters. The stranger, in his strong Scotch accent, remarked what a hot day it had been. In travelling, no doubt very, responded Mr. Carr. Lady Hartledon condescended to cautiously put her head over the bal.u.s.trades. There was no bell rung; Lord Hartledon showed his visitor out himself.

"And now for these criminal law books, Carr, that bear upon the case," he said, returning from the front-door.

"I must go down to my chambers for them."

"I know they can't bring it home to me; I know they can't!" he exclaimed, in tones so painfully eager as to prove to Lady Hartledon's ears that he thought they could, whatever the matter might be. "I'll go with you, Carr; this uncertainty is killing me."

"There's little uncertainty about it, I fear," was the grave reply. "You had better look the worst in the face."

They went out, intending to hail the first cab. Very much to Lord Hartledon's surprise he saw his wife's carriage waiting at the door, the impatient horses chafing at their delay. What could have detained her?

"Wait for me one moment, Carr," he said. "Stop a cab if you see one."

He dashed up to the drawing-room; his wife was coming forth then, her cloak and gloves on, her fan in her hand. "Maude, my darling," he exclaimed, "what has kept you? Surely you have not waited for me?--you did not misunderstand me?"

"I hardly know what has kept me," she evasively answered. "It is late, but I'm going now."

It never occurred to Lord Hartledon that she had been watching or listening. Incapable of any meanness of the sort, he could not suspect it in another. Lady Hartledon's fertile brain had been suggesting a solution of this mystery. It was rather curious, perhaps, that her suspicions should take the same bent that her husband's did at first--that of inst.i.tuting law proceedings by Dr. Ashton.

She said nothing. Her husband led her out, placed her in the carriage, and saw it drive away. Then he and the barrister got into a cab and went to the Temple.

"We'll take the books home with us, Carr," he said, feverishly. "You often have fellows dropping in to your chambers at night; at my house we shall be secure from interruption."

It was midnight when Lady Hartledon returned home. She asked after her husband, and heard that he was in the breakfast-room with Mr. Carr.

She went towards it with a stealthy step, and opened the door very softly. Had Lord Hartledon not been talking, they might, however, have heard her. The table was strewed with thick musty folios; but they appeared to be done with, and Mr. Carr was leaning back in his chair with folded arms.

"I have had nothing but worry all my life," Val was saying; "but compared with this, whatever has gone before was as nothing. When I think of Maude, I feel as if I should go mad."

"You must quietly separate from her," said Mr. Carr.

A slight movement. Mr. Carr stopped, and Lord Hartledon looked round.

Lady Hartledon was close behind him.

"Percival, what is the matter?" she asked, turning her back on Mr. Carr, as if ignoring his presence. "What bad news did that parson bring you?--a friend, I presume, of Dr. Ashton's."

They had both risen. Lord Hartledon glanced at Mr. Carr, the perspiration breaking out on his brow. "It--it was not a parson," he said, in his innate adherence to truth.