She rose from her chair, her face aflame with anger, and, taking a couple of paces towards him, replied with a vehemence which neither of the unseen onlookers suspected.
The battle of words continued. He was making some allegations, the truth of which she was denying. This girl, not yet out of her teens, was defiant of the man whose life had been one long struggle to grow rich, and whose gigantic wealth was now crushing the very soul from his body. Surely they were an incongruous pair. His defiance of her was only a half-hearted one. His sarcasm had irritated her, and now, alleging something, which was a lie, he had goaded her into all the fierce ebullition of anger which a woman, however calm and level-headed she may be, cannot at times restrain.
"I wonder what the old blackguard has said?" whispered Max to the man at his side.
"It seems as though he has made some charge against her."
"Or against her father," Max suggested.
"You suspected me of being privy to the Doctor's disappearance, Max,"
Charlie said, still in a whisper. "You said that you saw me at Cromwell Road that night. Are you still of that opinion?"
"No," responded his friend. "There was a plot--a cleverly devised plot.
Someone went there dressed exactly like you."
"But you say you saw his face."
"So I did. And I could have sworn it was you."
"It is that conspiracy which we have to fathom," Charlie said. "At least, we have established the fact that Maud is alive. And having found Maud, we may also find Marion. Possibly she went to her into safe hiding from us."
"More than possible, I think."
But while they were whispering something occurred which made them both start. The girl, crimson with anger, suddenly dived her hand into her dress pocket, and, taking out a bundle of paper, flung it at the man before her.
They saw, to their amazement, that it was a bunch of crisp banknotes.
She had cast it at his feet in open defiance.
Perhaps the money was the price of her silence--money he had sent to her or to her father to purchase secrecy!
The old man gave a glance at the notes crushed into a bundle and lying upon the carpet, and then, turning to her, snapped his bony finger and thumb in defiance, and laughed in her face--a grim, evil laugh, which Charlie knew from experience meant retaliation and bitter vengeance.
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.
NOT COUNTING THE COST.
The girl turned to leave, but the old man placed himself between her and the door.
She stamped her little foot angrily in command to be allowed to pa.s.s.
He saw her determination, and hesitated. Then he seemed to commence to argue, to place before her the probable result of her action in casting aside the money, but she would hear nothing. Her mind seemed fully made up. She had spoken her last word, and wished to leave him.
He saw in her decision an att.i.tude antagonistic to himself. He was in deadly peril. Though his wealth could command all that was good and all that was bad, though it placed him above his fellow men and rendered him immune from much, yet it could not ensure her goodwill.
Both Max and Charlie realised plainly that Maud was in possession of some great secret, and that she had refused a bribe of silence. This man who had believed that his money could purchase anything had discovered, to his dismay, that it could not seal her lips. He saw himself facing an imminent peril, and was undecided how to act.
He argued. But she would not listen. He appealed. But she only smiled and shook her head.
Her mind was made up. She had decided to refuse the money. He picked it from the floor and handed it to her again, but she would not take it in her hand.
Then he crossed to his writing-table, took out his chequebook and scribbled a cheque--one for a large amount in all probability. Tearing it from its counterfoil, he gave it to her.
But with an expression of defiance she tore it into four and cast it upon the floor with a gesture of disgust. And in triumph, before he could prevent her, she opened the door, and disappeared from the room.
"We must follow her?" whispered Charlie eagerly.
"But, my dear fellow, we can't! We're locked in!"
Rolfe, realising the truth that they were prevented from overtaking his well-beloved, for whom they had been so long in active search, and that she must again dip from them into oblivion, gave vent to a forcible expression of despair.
"Let's remain here," urged Max. "We may learn something else."
"The old man will go to bed," was Charlie's response. "And we will follow and explore above."
"How?" asked Rolfe.
"That remains to be seen. We must, in this case, act discreetly, and trust to luck."
"But Maud? I must see her."
"That's impossible at present. You have seen her--that's enough for to-night. To-morrow we may discover something further--or even to-night."
Both men, scarce daring to breathe, were watching old Sam.
After the girl had gone, he placed his hand upon his heart, and, with face white and haggard, he sank into his writing-chair. He had collapsed as though he had received a sudden blow.
Levi entered hurriedly a few moments later, and, finding his master leaning forward upon his table muttering to himself, tried to rouse him.
A glance at his face showed that he had collapsed. Levi therefore rushed across the room, poured out some brandy from the tantalus, and compelled the old man to swallow it. This, after a few moments, revived him. The faithful servant, however, stood by in wonderment. He seemed puzzled as to what had occurred.
But the fragments of the torn cheque scattered upon the carpet showed defiance on the part of the visitor whom he had just shown out into the night.
Levi stooped as far as his rheumatism would allow, and slowly, very slowly, gathered up the torn pieces of paper and placed them in the basket, his eyes the whole time upon his master.
Straightening himself again, he spoke, making inquiry as to what had occurred. But his master, with a wave of his hand, commanded his silence. Then, sinking back in his chair, he remained, staring straight before him like a man in a dream. He seemed peering into the future-- and he saw only exposure and ruin!
Hands and teeth were clenched, for he realised that he had taken a false step. He had misjudged his own power and influence. He had believed that a good and truthful woman could be purchased, as he might purchase any other thing or chattel.
She had cast his gold into his face. She had insulted him, for she had spoken a truth which he could not deny. Indeed, that slim, pale-faced girl, scarce more than a child, held over him power supreme--power for life, or for death.
The scene within that room was a strange one.
Old Levi, standing statuesque at his master's side, uttered some words.
But the millionaire was silent. He only raised his grey head and sat staring at the great painting opposite--staring like a man peering into the grim unknown.
The door that divided the watchers from the watched prevented the words from being overheard. The thickness of its gla.s.s prevented the truth being known to the two men standing breathless behind it. Had it been ordinary gla.s.s they would no doubt have overheard the conversation between the old man and his fair visitor.
The anger of both men had been aroused by Statham's att.i.tude towards the girl. Even Charlie, faithful and devoted as he had been to the millionaire, had now become fiercely antagonistic, for he had seen by the old man's countenance that some terrible revenge was intended upon the girl he loved so dearly.