The girl started, perceiving that trouble was threatening from still another quarter. She was conscious that her visitor noticed her start, but in spite of it she could not prevent her pulses throbbing unpleasantly.

"My husband? What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know what I mean well enough, don't try acting the stupid with me. You're not so dull as all that, nor yet so simple; and I'm not if you are. Mrs Champion, I've come to see your husband, Mr Robert Champion, my old friend Bob."

"He's not here, you know he's not here."

"How do I know he's not here? I know he came here."

"How do you know he came here?"

"Because me and my husband met him outside the gate of Wandsworth Prison the Sat.u.r.day morning he came out of it from doing his sentence.

His wife ought to have been there--that's you! but you wasn't! I suppose you were on your couch of rose-leaves and didn't want to be disturbed. Nice idea of a wife's duties you seem to have, and a pretty sort you are to want to look down on me. Poor fellow! he was in sad trouble, without a penny in his pocket, or a chance of getting one, and him with the richest woman in England for his wife. When we told him of the luck you'd had--"

"So it was you who told him, was it?"

"Yes, it was, and I daresay you'd have rather we hadn't; you'd have rather he'd starved and got into trouble again, and rotted out his life in gaol. But Darcy and me were his true friends, if his own wife wasn't. We weren't going to see him hungry in the gutter while you were gorging yourself on the fat of the land. We gave him a good meal, he wanted it, poor chap; nothing but skin and bone he was. We told him all about you, and where you lived, put him inside a new suit of clothes, clothed him in new things from head to foot, we did, so that you shouldn't think he disgraced you by his appearance, and gave him the money to come down here; and he came."

"Well?"

For Mrs Darcy Sutherland had paused.

"Well? You think it's well, do you? Then all I can say is, I don't. Mrs Champion, I've come to see your husband."

"He's not here."

"He's not here? Then where is he?"

"It is sufficient for you to be informed that he's not here."

"Oh, no, it isn't; and don't you think it, my love. It's not sufficient by a long way. He promised to let us hear from him directly he got down here; we've heard nothing from that day to this, and that's some time ago, you know."

"If that is all you have to say I'll ring the bell."

"But it's not all I've got to say. Still, you can ring the bell if you like, it's not my bell. Though, if you take my advice, you'll hear me out before you do."

"Go on."

"Oh, I'll go on, as I told you before, don't you worry, and don't you try to bully me, because I'm not to be bullied, threatening me with your bells! Mrs Champion," the woman repeated the name with a curious gusto, enjoying the discomfort the sound of it occasioned the girl in front of her, "Mr Sutherland and me, we're not rich. Your husband promised to give us back that money we let him have, and since it seems that I can't see him I should like to see the colour of the money."

"That's what you want, is it? I begin to understand. How much was it?"

"Well, we'll say a thousand pounds."

"A thousand pounds!"

"A thousand pounds."

"Do you dare to pretend that you gave him a thousand pounds?"

"I don't pretend anything of the kind. I pretend nothing. What I say is this. If I can see Mr Robert Champion and enjoy the pleasure of a little chat with him I shall be content to receive back the cash we lent him. If I can't do that I want a thousand pounds. Don't you understand, my love?"

Miss Arnott did understand at last. She realised that the purport of this woman's errand was blackmail. When comprehension burst upon her she was silent; she was trying to collect her thoughts, to think--a process which the increasing pressure of "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" made difficult. Mrs Darcy Sutherland observed her obvious discomposure with smiling amus.e.m.e.nt, as the proverbial child might observe the movements of the fly which it has impaled with a pin.

Miss Arnott was saying to herself, or rather, endeavouring to say to herself--for her distress of mind was blurring her capacity for exact expression--that a thousand pounds was but a trifling sum to her, and that if by the expenditure of such an amount she could free herself from this new peril it would be money well spent. She did not stop to reflect, although, all the while, the idea was vaguely present in her mind that, by yielding to this woman's demand, she would be delivering herself to her body and soul. Her one feeling was the desire to get this woman out of the house without a scene--another scene such as she had had with Wilson, probably a much worse one than that. If she could only be relieved of the odious oppression born of her near neighbourhood, breathe purer air uncontaminated by this creature's presence, if she could only do this for a time it would be something.

She would have a chance to look round her, to gather together her forces, her scattered senses. If she could only do that she might be more than a match for Mrs Darcy Sutherland yet. But she must have that chance, she must not have exposure--in its worst form--thrust upon her now, in her present state--she was becoming more and more conscious of shaky nerves--that might be more than she was able to bear. The chance was well worth a thousand pounds, which to her was nothing.

She was all at once seized with an overwhelming longing to take instant advantage of the chance the woman offered her. She resolved to give her what she asked.

"If I let you have what you want will you promise to go away immediately--right away?"

"I'll walk out of this house without speaking a word to a creature in it, or to anyone out of it for the matter of that, and I'll take the next train back to town, if that's what you mean."

"That's what I do mean. If I give you a cheque for a thousand pounds will that do?"

"If you leave it open, and make it payable to bearer, I don't know that I'd mind taking it. I suppose there's money enough at the bank to meet it; and that you won't try to stop its being paid."

"There's plenty of money to meet it, and I certainly shall not try to stop its being paid."

"Then I'll tell you what; you give me all the ready money you have got in the house, and an open cheque to bearer for the balance--that'll be more satisfactory for both parties--then I'll take myself off as fast as you like."

"Very well. I'll go and see what money I've got and I'll bring you a cheque for the rest."

Miss Arnott moved towards the door, intending to perpetrate what was perhaps the worst folly of which she had been guilty yet. Just as she reached the door it opened. Mr Stacey entered, followed by a dark, dapper gentleman--Ernest Gilbert.

CHAPTER XXIX

SOME Pa.s.sAGES OF ARMS

Mr Stacey held out both hands to her in the effusive fashion which, when he chose, he could manage very well.

"My dear Miss Arnott, I think I'm unexpected." He was; so unexpected that, in the first flush of her surprise, the girl was oblivious of his outstretched hands. He went on, ignoring her confusion. "But I trust I am not unwelcome because I happen to come unheralded." Looking about him he noticed Mrs Sutherland. "But you are not alone. I hope that our unannounced entrance has not been an intrusion. May I ask you to make me known to your"--something caused him not to use the word which was already on the tip of his tongue--"to this lady."

"This is Mrs Darcy Sutherland."

"Mrs Darcy Sutherland?" In spite of his mellifluous tones there was something in the way in which he repeated the name which hardly suggested a compliment. "And what might Mrs Darcy Sutherland want with you?"

Mrs Sutherland took it upon herself to answer.

"Well, I never! the impudence of that! Who are you, pray? and what business is it of yours?"

The lawyer was blandness itself.

"I beg your pardon. Were you speaking to me?"