Whatsoever a Man Soweth. Le Queux William
– I have been very foolish,” she whispered. “I am, after all, a woman, and very weak. Ah! Wilfrid – if I only dare tell you the truth – if I only dare?” she gasped, and I saw how terribly agitated she was.
“Why not? Why not confide in me?” I urged, seriously. “I can keep a secret, you know.”
“No, no,” she cried. “How can I? No, I only beg and implore of you to help me, and not to misjudge me.”
“Misjudge you, why? I don’t understand,” I said, in pretence of ignorance.
“Ah! of course not. But to-morrow you will know everything, and – ” but she did not conclude her sentence.
There was a change in her countenance, and I saw that she was fainting. I drew her to a big armchair, and a second later she sank into it unconscious.
Next instant I dashed along to my room for the water-bottle, whispered to Eric what had taken place and ran back to assist my little friend.
Ten minutes later she opened her eyes again and gazed steadily at the candle. Then, finding me at her side, she whispered, —
“Yes, ah – yes, I remember. How very foolish I have been. Forgive me, Wilfrid, won’t you? I miscalculated my strength. I thought myself stronger,” and her soft hand again sought mine, and she looked into my eyes steadily, with a long, earnest gaze.
“You are in distress, Tibbie,” I said, as kindly as I could. “What is it? How can I help you?”
“You can save me,” she said in an intense, earnest voice. “You can save my life if you will.”
“If I will? Why, of course I will,” was my quick response.
“Then you will really help me?”
“Only tell me what you wish me to do and I’ll do it at once,” I replied.
“You will have no fear?”
“Fear of what?”
“Well,” she exclaimed, hesitating, “suppose you were suspected of something – that the police believed you to be guilty of a crime?”
“Guilty of a crime?” I echoed, with a forced smile. “Well, they might suspect whatever they like, so long as I was innocent.”
“Then you are really prepared to bear any suspicion if it would be for my salvation?”
“Have I not already said that I am quite ready to help you, Tibbie?”
“Ah, yes, because you do not yet realise your grave peril,” she said. “If only I dare be frank with you – if only I dare tell you the awful, bitter truth! Yet I can’t, and you must remain in ignorance. Your very ignorance will cause you to court danger, and at the same time to misjudge me.”
“I shall not misjudge you,” I assured her. “But at the present I am, as you say, entirely in the dark. What is it you want me to do?”
For a moment she was silent, apparently fearing to make the suggestion lest I should refuse. At last she looked straight into my face and said, —
“What I ask you to do is to make a great sacrifice in order to save me. I am in peril, Wilfrid, in a grave, terrible peril. The sword of fate hangs over me, and may fall at any instant. I must fly from here – I must fly to-night and hide – I – ”
She hesitated again. Her words were an admission of her guilt. She was a murderess. That unknown man that I had left lying cold and dead beneath the trees had fallen by her hand.
“Well?” I asked, rather coldly, I fear.
“I must hide. I must efface my identity, and for certain reasons – indeed to obtain greater security I must marry.”
“Marry!” I echoed. “Well, really, Sybil, I don’t understand you in the least. Why?”
“Because I can, I hope, save myself by marrying,” she went on quickly. “To-night I am going into hiding, and not a soul must know of my whereabouts. The place best of all in which to hide oneself is London, in one of the populous working districts. They would never search for me there. As the wife of an industrious working-man I should be safe. To go abroad would be useless.”
“But why should you leave so hurriedly?” I asked her.
“Ah! you will know in due course,” was her answer. “Ask me no questions now, only help me to escape.”
“How?”
“Listen, and I will tell you of the plans I have formed. To-night I have thought it all out, and have made resolve. The car is in the shed over against the kennels. I backed it in yesterday, therefore it will run down the hill along the avenue, and right out through the lodge gates without petrol and noiselessly. Once in the Chichester road, I can drive it away without awakening either the house or the Grants who keep the gate. You’ll come with me.”
“Where?”
“To London.”
“And what would people say when it was known that you and I left together in the middle of the night?”
“Oh! they’d only say it was one of Tibbie’s mad freaks. It is useful sometimes,” she added, “to have a reputation for eccentricity. It saves so many explanations.”
“Yes, that’s all very well, but it is not a judicious course in any way.”
Suddenly I recollected the woman Mason whom I saw at all costs must be got out of the way. As a servant she might get a view of the dead man out of curiosity and identify him as her mistress’s lover.
“No,” I added, after a moment’s reflection. “If you really want to escape to London go in exactly the opposite direction. Run across the New Forest to Bournemouth, for instance. Take Mason with you. Go to the Bath Hotel, and then slip away by train say up to Birmingham, and from there to London.”
“Yes, but I can’t take Mason. She must remain in ignorance. She knows far too much of my affairs already.”
“Well, I can’t go with you. It would be madness. And you cannot go alone.”
She was silent, her lips pressed together, her brows knit. Her countenance was hard and troubled, and there was a look of unmistakable terror in those wonderful eyes of hers.
“And if I act on your advice, Wilfrid, will you meet me in secret in London to-morrow or the next day?”
“Certainly. I will do all I can to help you – only accept my advice and take Mason with you. Mislead her, just as you are misleading everyone.”
“You will not think ill of me if I ask you something?” she said, seriously, looking very earnestly up into my face.
“Certainly not. You can be perfectly open and straightforward with me, surely.”
“Then I want you to do something – although I’m almost afraid to ask you.”
“And what’s that?”
“I have no one else I can trust, Wilfrid, as I trust you. You are a man of honour and I am an honest woman, even though my enemies have whispered their calumnies regarding me. You are my friend; if you were not I surely dare not ask you to help me in this,” and her voice faltered as she averted her gaze. “I want you – I want you to pretend that you are my husband.”
“Your husband,” I exclaimed, staring at her.
“Yes,” she cried quickly. “To place myself in a position of safety I must first live in a crowded part of London where I can efface my identity; and secondly, for appearances’ sake, as well as for another and much stronger motive, I must have a husband. Will you, Wilfrid, pretend to be mine?”
Her request utterly nonplussed me, and she noticed my hesitation.
“If you will only consent to go into hiding with me I can escape,” she urged, quickly. “You can easily contrive to live in Bolton Street and pose as my husband in another part of the world; while I – well, I simply