Chapter 16

DR. HORACE INTERVENES.

In the dead silence which followed Mona's enigmatic announcement a pin could have been heard to drop. Prelice's head was whirling. Here, at last, was the explanation, and he would now know the true relationship between the girl he loved and Ned, who apparently cared nothing for her. Shepworth stood quietly beside Miss Chent with a perfectly calm face, but his eyes were fixed threateningly on Captain Jadby, who appeared to be much amazed at the calm way in which Mona received his news. Lady Sophia glanced from one man to the other, and, having a shrewd idea of what was coming, made up her mind to depart, so as to spare herself a scene, and Shepworth an awkward explanation.

"Most interesting," she said, rising and shaking out her skirts, "but I have so much to do that I really cannot wait. Mona, child, you must come and see me at Folkstone, the Piccadilly Hotel, you know, though why Piccadilly by the seaside I really don't know."

"Will you not wait and hear what I have to say?" asked Jadby, who seemed desirous of having as many listeners as possible, so as to cast shame upon Shepworth.

"No, my good man," rejoined Lady Sophia, with all the polished insolence of a grand dame; "other people's affairs do not interest me. You had better go back to the South Seas, where I am sure you will be much more at home. Prelice, help me on with my dust-cloak." She pointed to a grey silk mantle, which her dutiful nephew duly adjusted on her shoulders. "Now, Mona, child, don't forget. Good-bye, Mr. Shepworth. Prelice, you had better come with me," she ended, sailing towards the door.

The young man hesitated, and looked at Mona doubtfully. She interpreted his look promptly. "Lord Prelice will stay, at my request."

"My dear," Lady Sophia at the door sunk her voice, "so very awkward, if you really know what that creature"—so she designed Jadby—"is going to say."

"It has to be said sooner or later," whispered Mona, "and I want Lord Prelice to hear."

"Oh!" A new thought seemed to strike Lady Sophia. She glanced from her hostess to her nephew, and then pursed up her lips, guessing in a flash what was coming. "You had better come with me, Prelice," she repeated, raising her voice, and at the sound of it Mona shrank away.

But Prelice looked dogged, and declined to come. "I must stop and support Miss Chent," he said.

"Mr. Shepworth can do that," cried Captain Jadby insolently.

"He can," said the barrister, taking a step forward, "and he can support the cause of"—with emphasis—"any lady."

The advocate of the Stone Age, standing at the open door, raised her lorgnette, and surveyed the group. "Most interesting," she said, with cool impertinence; "quite a comedy. Let us hope that it will not merge into a tragedy." And, biting her lip, she departed, with a glare at her obstinate nephew.

Guessing that Lady Sophia was offended, and pretty certain of the reason, Mona did not dare to follow.

The motor car of Lady Sophia was heard whirring down the avenue in the hot sunshine, and only when the sound died away did Miss Chent return to the three men. "What more have you to say, Captain Jadby?" she asked politely.

"It seems to me that there is little need of an explanation," he answered, with another shrug, and compressing his lips.

"None at all that I can see," rejoined Shepworth in a cool voice. "I think Captain Jadby had better go."

"Not until I receive Mona's answer from her own lips," he snarled, and looked a very ugly customer in his impotent wrath.

"Miss Chent to you," said the girl equably.

"Mona! Mona!" vociferated the captain, "I have a double right to call you by your christian name."

"I did not even know that you had a single right," she retorted.

"I have; Sir Oliver wished us to marry."

"Quite so, and for that reason I became engaged to Mr. Shepworth."

Prelice gave a gasp, and turned to his friend. Ned nodded. "It is true, Dorry," said the barrister. "When I was stopping here, during the lifetime of Sir Oliver, this man," he indicated Captain Jadby with contempt, "pestered Miss Chent with his attentions. Sir Oliver was on his side—why, I can't say—but——"

"I can tell you now," interrupted Jadby hoarsely; "I am Sir Oliver's son, and Mona is my cousin."

There was a second silence. "I don't believe it," said Prelice decidedly, and his opinion was echoed by Miss Chent and Shepworth.

Jadby threw back his handsome head scornfully. "It matters little what you believe," he said violently, "since what I say is the truth, and no denial can make it anything else. My mother was the daughter of a great chief of Tahiti."

"Oh!" broke in Prelice impulsively, "then you are a half-caste?"

"Yes," admitted the captain, his nostrils working and his native origin becoming more and more apparent as he lost his temper. "My father was married to my mother in native fashion, but that, I learn, does not entitle me to inherit my father's title and property, which it should do. However, my father made a will in my favour before leaving the South Seas. He never had much love for me, and therefore I dreaded lest he should change his mind and leave his property to someone else. I came to England to look after my interests, and then learned that a new will had been made leaving the money to Mona. My father, to give him his due, was ashamed of himself, and proposed that the affairs should be settled by marriage, so that both Mona and I should benefit. I loved her, and agreed to the arrangement, but she scorned me, and so——"

"And so her uncle died," ended Prelice, looking sharply at the captain.

Jadby whirled round furiously, and stamped. "My father's death has nothing whatever to do with my engagement to Mona."

"I never was engaged to you," she interposed swiftly; "it was because you persecuted me that I asked Ned to stand between us. I have known Ned for years, and he is a loyal gentleman."

"Very loyal," sneered Jadby, with quivering lips, "to love one woman and become engaged to another."

Shepworth would have spoken, but Mona prevented him. "There is no need for you to excuse yourself, Ned," she said coldly, and addressed herself to the fuming captain. "When I asked Mr. Shepworth to pretend to be engaged to me, so that your worrying might be stopped, he told me that he loved another woman——"

"A woman who is——"

Shepworth threw up his hand. "If you dare to say a word," he cried menacingly, "I shall break your neck."

"There is no need," said Mona again, while Prelice, keenly observant, held his peace. "I can explain to Captain Jadby, and then he can go."

"I have heard enough," said the sailor hoarsely, and glared. "To fool your uncle—my father," he added with emphasis, "and to fool me, you pretended to engage yourself to this man."

"You have stated the position accurately," said Mona with great calmness. "Mr. Shepworth and I have paid you out. We have played a comedy by which you, for your insolence, have been deceived."

"Mona!" The man took a step forward imploringly.

Miss Chent receded. "I am not afraid of you now," she declared in a clear voice, "although you did your best to frighten me. And I do not allow anyone to call me Mona save those I love. You may be my cousin for all I know, but I don't like you, and I shall have nothing to do with you. My fictitious engagement with Mr. Shepworth is at an end," she concluded, slipping off a ring and passing it to Ned, who put it in his pocket; "and you, I understand, have the property, since the will in my favour has been destroyed. There is no more to be said."

"There is this to be said," shouted Jadby, the veins on his forehead swelling dangerously, "that this house is mine, and you shall leave it."

Mona faced him coolly. "Mr. Martaban looks after my interests," she declared, quite composed; "as soon as he tells me to leave I shall do so, but until then I am mistress here, and I order you to go."

Jadby would have disobeyed, as he was furious at the failure of his two thunderbolts. He had hoped to overwhelm Mona by stating that he was her cousin, and he had hoped to separate her from Shepworth by telling of the latter's infatuation for Mrs. Dolly Rover. Having failed, he looked like a fool, and would have tried to recover his ground by insisting upon remaining, but that Prelice rose to his feet and Shepworth took a step forward. Jadby was no coward, for the drop of white blood in him came from a brave old stock; but the odds were too great. Moreover, he really and truly loved his cousin, and his soul was torn within him at the thought of losing her. With a sudden revulsion of feeling, the tears sprang to his dark eyes, although he was by no means a tearful individual. Putting out his hands blindly, he groped his way to the door. Mona's generous heart smote her when she saw the man brought thus low, and she sprang forward to lay her hand on his arm. "Do not go in anger, Felix," she pleaded, using his christian name, as Sir Oliver had often done; "if you are my cousin—and I believe that you have spoken the truth—let us part in peace. Shake hands."

Jadby dashed the tears from his eyes and her hand from his arm. Her appeal brought back the original devil to his semi-civilised heart fiercer than ever. "Will you be my wife?" he demanded savagely.

"No. I cannot."

"Do you love anyone else?"

Mona drew herself up, quivering. "You have no right to ask that."

"Perhaps not," raged the captain, with contempt, "because you love a man who is in love with a married woman, and——"

Shepworth ran forward, his face white and his eyes bright. "Silence!" he exclaimed, and took Jadby by the shoulders.

"I shall not be silent," shrieked the half-caste, becoming feminine and abusive in his towering passion. "You and your Mrs. Rover, who——"

What else he would have said neither Mona nor Prelice knew, for the barrister, becoming suddenly silent, after the manner of the angered white man, ran Jadby swiftly out of the room. The semi-Polynesian kicked and shrieked and swore, and even tried to bite. But Shepworth, with set teeth and grim eyes, forced him along the hall, and out of the front door. The next moment Jadby was lying on his back some distance away, with Shepworth blocking the door of the house he claimed.

"You devil!" yelled the half-caste, and he leaped up, to slip his hand behind him. The barrister flung himself down, while three shots rang out from the captain's derringer, then sprang to his feet on hearing no more. Apparently only three chambers had been loaded, for Shepworth, filled with wrath at this treachery, dared the worst, and ran blindly down the steps. Jadby flung away the still smoking weapon with an oath, and sped down the avenue, as though the fiend himself was after him. For some little distance Shepworth followed, until he lost him on the wide Downs, and then returned to the Grange, to meet Prelice coming down the avenue at top speed.

"Are you hurt, Ned?" shouted his friend.

"One of the bullets ripped my arm, but it's nothing to speak of," was Shepworth's reply. "Where's Mona?"

"She ran upstairs to see Mrs. Blexey. I'll send up and let her know that you are all right. I say, Ned, you have made a dangerous enemy."

"Oh, damn the danger," growled Shepworth, who was furious—"the low, mean, sulking hound. He insulted me before on account of Constance, and that was why we fought. He hadn't a revolver then, and I gave him a black eye, the brute."

"And are you really in love with Constance?" asked Prelice doubtfully.

"Yes," said Ned gruffly, and not seemingly inclined to talk about the matter just then. "I'll tell you all about it some day. Meanwhile let us reassure Mona, and get my arm bathed. It's only a scratch."

"But one moment, Ned," said Prelice, holding him back from entering the house. "You are not actually engaged to Mona—I mean Miss Chent?"

"No. I only agreed so as to save her from Jadby's insolence and Sir Oliver's persecution."

"Then Miss Chent is heart-whole?"

"Entirely, so far as I know," replied Shepworth dryly; and then wheeling to face his friend: "Why do you ask these questions?"

"I'll tell you all about it some day," said Prelice, echoing the former speech of the barrister. "Halloa, here's Mona—that is, Miss Chent herself." It was indeed Mona who appeared at the top of the steps, with Mrs. Blexey and two footmen behind her. She looked pale, and hurried forward. "Are you hurt, Ned?" she asked anxiously. "I heard the shots."

"It's only a flea-bite," said Ned quickly; "don't bother about it. I'll go to my room and bathe it."

"Let me do that, sir," said Mrs. Blexey; and Shepworth, nodding a faint assent, for he had lost some blood, went into the house, and up the wide oaken stairs. Prelice lingered behind with Mona.

"I am so glad," he said meaningly.

"That Ned has been shot? How cruel of you."

"No, no, no! You must be aware that I am glad, because——"

"I haven't time to listen now," said Mona, her face crimson and her eyes very bright. "I have to send a telegram."

"To whom?" demanded Prelice as she disappeared through the hall.

"To Dr. Horace," came back the reply; and then the young man in addition to his other puzzled thoughts had this new one concerning his former fellow-traveller.

"I wonder what she wants with Horace?" he asked himself.

The answer came at dinner, when Mona was in the safe presence of Ned, and Prelice could make no demonstration of the feelings he had for her—feelings which she had guessed long since existed. Shepworth's wound, which was worse than he admitted, had been bound up, and he was in very good spirits. Mona, startled by the events of the afternoon, looked pale, and was rather restless. But Prelice said nothing. In the first place, he could not in the presence of a third party, even though that party was his school-chum; and in the second, he was too happy to speak much. All he could do, and did do, was to fill his eyes and heart with the pale beauty of Mona Chent. After all, the gods had been very good to him by removing an apparently impassable barrier.

It was Shepworth who asked why Mona had sent the wire to Dr. Horace, and Prelice listened with great interest to her reply.

"After the case," explained the girl, more to Martaban than to the young men, "Dr. Horace sent and congratulated me on the verdict. Also he wrote a note saying that if Jadby proved dangerous—those were his words—that I was to wire to him, and he would draw Jadby's teeth—his own words again, Mr. Martaban."

"Do you know Dr. Horace?" asked the solicitor, looking puzzled.

"No. I never set eyes on him until he stepped into the witness-box to give evidence about the herb. But when I heard the shots I knew then that Captain Jadby was becoming dangerous, so I sent off a telegram to Dr. Horace. Just before dinner a reply came."

"And the reply?" asked Shepworth, also puzzled.

"Dr. Horace will be here by ten o'clock to-night."

Prelice stared. "It must be something very important to bring Horace down so promptly. Have you any idea of what he means?"

"No," replied Mona quietly; "all I know I have told you; but if this Dr. Horace can stop Felix from shooting people, it will be as wise to have him down."

"Felix," muttered Prelice discontentedly. Mona shot a smiling glance at him, not ill pleased to see how openly jealous he was, even though he had no official right to be so. "He is my cousin, you know," she said sweetly.

"I don't believe it," said Shepworth sharply.

"I do, and if you will look at Uncle Oliver's portrait up there," she turned to point at the wall, "you will see that there is a likeness between him and Felix, only Felix is darker," finished Mona.

Prelice did not argue, but sat restlessly in his seat. When Mona left the three men over their wine they had a long discussion concerning the present aspect of things, and formed a committee of three to decide what was best to be done. Lord Prelice insisted upon going up to London for an interview with Madame Marie, while Shepworth was equally certain that the trail of Jadby ought to be followed. As to Mr. Martaban, he openly bewailed the loss of the will, which would have placed Mona in possession of the Lanwin property.

As the dinner was late, the three men lingered for a considerable time talking of what was best to be done, and the stable clock struck ten before they were aware of the passing of time. At once Prelice jumped up and walked into the drawing-room. There, to his surprise, he found Dr. Horace, more shaggy and uncouth than ever, sitting comfortably beside Mona Chent. The two looked like Titania and Bottom the Weaver.

"How on earth did you come here?" asked Prelice, amazed.

"Walked," retorted Horace gruffly. "I caught an earlier train, and so got here before the time mentioned in my wire. Good-evening, Shepworth; so you've been killed. Eh?"

"Oh, I'm alive yet," laughed the barrister; and then Dr. Horace was introduced to Mr. Martaban, to whom he immediately addressed himself.

"I'm glad that you are here," he said in his usual growling tones. "I mean you, sir, the land-shark. I've some business for you."

"Is this the time to talk business?" said Martaban somewhat annoyed, as after a good dinner he did not feel able to give advice.

"Judge for yourself," said Horace, fishing a blue envelope, foolscap size, out of the breast-pocket of his shabby coat. "Look at that."

Martaban did so, and so did Prelice and Shepworth, peering over the shoulder of his dress-coat. Martaban uttered a cry of amazement.

"Why, it's the missing will!" he almost shouted.