Chapter 19

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.

It was with extraordinary feelings that Lord Prelice emerged from that mystic room into the everyday world of Bond Street. After the refusal to declare the name of the person who had worn the dress Madame Marie had become silent, and Prelice raised his head, to see her standing rigid and white between the painted windows. The white smoke had disappeared into thin air, and save that the strong tuberose scent still lingered behind, there was nothing to show what had placed her in the trance. Obedient to instructions, the young man left the still figure in the lonely room, and passed through the outer apartment on his way down the stairs. The boy, cross-legged in the corner, looked up anxiously as he went out.

"You have said nothing?" he breathed apprehensively.

"Nothing," answered Prelice softly, and descended the stairs. When he stood in the street again he removed his hat, and drew a long breath of the smoky London air. Impure as it was, it dispelled the slight dizziness which the odour of the Sacred Herb had produced. Then the young man chartered a hansom to reach his rooms in Half-Moon Street; but not until he was in his very own den, and seated in an armchair with a brandy and soda within reach, did he find time to reflect. His reflections were considerably aided by a first-class cigar.

"A queer adventure," thought Prelice meditatively. "What am I to do next, I should like to know?"

Of course, the answer to this was obvious. He should go at once to Alexander Mansions, and learn if what Madame Marie said was correct. A very difficult errand to go upon, Prelice thought, as it would be hard to induce Mrs. Rover to explore her husband's dressing-room in search of evidence which might bring him into trouble. And what excuse could he make, without telling the whole truth? Then, again, Mrs. Rover might scoff at Madame Marie's astounding statement, made under such astounding conditions. Yet, on reflection, Prelice did not think that she would scoff, considering that she had consulted the fortune-teller herself, and believed in the occult. There was a considerable vein of what the vulgar call superstition in Constance Rover.

That the dress was there, Prelice had not the least doubt. Of course, on the face of it, an ordinary mortal would laugh at the idea of evidence being procured in such a way. But Prelice had travelled too widely, and he had seen too much to make him a sceptic. In Cairo, in the West Indies, in South America, and in the South Seas, he had witnessed occult ceremonies and doings, which proved clearly the existence of that Unseen World at which many people laugh, and of which all people are afraid. Drink, drugs, music, rapid movement, and even absolute stillness, are all aids to open the psychic senses, as Prelice knew very well. Madame Marie had used the fumes of the Sacred Herb to rend the spirit from the body, and he quite believed that she had gone to Alexander Mansions to make the strange discovery. When she woke from the trance she would be—according to psychic laws—quite unconscious of what she had said.

But here Lord Prelice began to doubt. Madame Marie had admitted that she knew more than Prelice imagined. Seeing that she had been at the Grange during the tragedy, and was closely connected with Jadby, it seemed very probable that she was aware of much which it was necessary to learn before the actual truth could be made manifest. So far as Prelice could judge—and he was a shrewd reader of character—the fortune-teller was entirely honest in her dealings with him. If she wished to gain Jadby as her husband it was necessary that she should be so, since only by the marriage of Lord Prelice could the girl whom the buccaneer loved be removed from her path. It was not worth her while to play Prelice false, since his aims and hers were identical. Prelice desired to marry Mona, and Madame Marie wished this also. She was anxious to make the sailor her husband, and Prelice was quite willing that this should be so, since it would put an end to Jadby's troubling, and might perhaps take him out of England. Therefore Prelice believed in Madame Marie Eppingrave.

He credited her powers also, for she had the true eyes of one who can see into the Astral World; but he could not be certain if she had used her occult powers on this occasion. She may have known beforehand of the dress, and might merely have used the trance as a means of communicating it without arousing Jadby's wrath. If the dress was found, and evidence therefrom was forthcoming likely to solve the mystery of Agstone's death, the captain, wishing to keep Mona in uneasy terror for her reputation, would be much annoyed. But then Madame Marie could explain that she had only gone into a trance for Prelice, as an ordinary client, and was unaware of what she said. Under these circumstances the buccaneer could say nothing.

"Well," said Prelice, stretching himself, and talking aloud, a habit which he had contracted when travelling in silent places, "it's rum business altogether. If the dress is in Dolly Rover's wardrobe, what then? I can't accuse him, as he certainly had no reason to kill Agstone. Humph! I wonder if this is what Horace meant when he said that I would be sorry if I searched further into the case? I certainly don't want Dolly to be hanged; but if he were, I am quite sure that Ned would console the widow. Ugh!" Prelice shivered, "what a horrible thought. Rover is a bounder and a blighter and a cad, but I honestly don't think that he is a criminal of this sort. I don't believe that he has the pluck, for one thing; and for another, he had no motive. Hum!" he reflected, "I'd best get along and see Constance."

On glancing at his watch Prelice learned that it was half-past five, and concluded that probably Mrs. Rover would be at home sipping tea, after the manner of women, worn out with shopping. He decided to give her half-an-hour, and then catch the seven train from Charing Cross to Hythe. Come what might, the young man intended to get back to Hythe that night in order to walk over and see Mona. He assured himself that she would be anxious, and would wish to learn how he had sped. But he might as well have confessed the truth to himself—namely, that he pined hungrily for a sight of her face, and that every moment passed away from her side was spent in the outer darkness. "Where there is wailing and gnashing of teeth," said Prelice to himself, quite ready to wail and gnash if he missed his train.

As fate would have it, Mrs. Rover was at home, and came forward to greet her friend in a wonderful tea-gown, which suited her queenly figure. The rose-hued blinds were down, and the room looked like the grotto of the Venusberg; but in spite of these softening aids, Mrs. Rover appeared somewhat haggard. Nor was her greeting of Prelice very friendly. Indeed, it was so harsh that he congratulated himself on finding her alone. But then had anyone else been present, she would have been all smiles and gentle words.

"How dare you come and see me after leaving as you did last time," was Mrs. Rover's polite salutation; "and I know why you went too. Yes, you may look and look, Lord Prelice, but I know. I explained your conduct to Ned, and he told me how he had described the dress to you."

"Which means!" asked Prelice calmly and unflinchingly.

"Means!" she cried in stormy tones. "It means that you believed me to be the woman who came in and waved the bronze cup under Ned's nose."

"I did believe it for one minute," confessed her friend, making a clean breast of it in view of what was coming, "but, of course, on reflection I saw how ridiculous it was to suspect you."

"It was—it was—it was!" retorted Mrs. Rover, sitting down and tapping her foot. "I have not many friends, Lord Prelice, but I did think that Dorry was one of them."

"Dorry is," he assured her.

"A fair-weather friend. Pooh! To suspect Me," she went on angrily. "Me of all people. As if I would have hurt Ned. Had it been that Chent girl, you might have had some cause."

"Speak gently about Miss Chent," said Prelice quietly.

"I sha'n't. Why should I?"

"Because I am engaged to her."

"You!" Mrs. Rover started to her feet in delighted amazement. "But Ned?"

"Ned's engagement was merely an official one to prevent Jadby——"

"Oh yes, yes! I know all about that; but I didn't believe that Ned was speaking the truth. I thought that he was throwing me over for that horrid girl. No, no! Don't look at me like that. She isn't a horrid girl now that she is engaged to you. I shall love Lady Prelice much more than I loved Mona Chent. Engaged—engaged!" Mrs. Rover made a ball of her handkerchief, and tossed it in the air. "What a rage Lady Sophia will be in."

"She is in it already," said Prelice dryly. "I don't care."

"Of course you don't. You're a man—a man. Oh, how I love a man. Not that my married life gives me any experience," she ended bitterly.

"Constance," said Prelice seriously, "sit down, and let us talk quietly about your married life."

"I don't wish to talk of it," she retorted, but nevertheless took the seat he pointed to.

"You must. I am your friend, as you very truly say——"

"I admit it, now that you are engaged to Mona. But I say, Dorry—yes, I'll call you Dorry now—I say, isn't it rather sudden? You have only known her a week or two."

"It was a case of love at first sight," said the young man very earnestly.

"Pooh! pooh! I don't believe in such a thing."

"I didn't either until I experienced the sensation; but I really did love Mona from the moment I saw her in the dock, and it was only honour which held me back from speaking even earlier."

"Honour! What honour?" asked Mrs. Rover contemptuously.

"She was supposed to be engaged to Ned, you know. Only when I learned that the engagement meant nothing was I able to speak out."

"You have very many scruples," said Mrs. Rover, with a shrug, "and evidently forget that all is fair in love and war."

"That's a purely feminine view, Constance. Had Ned really been in love with Mona, and really engaged to her, I should have left England without saying a word."

"So like a man," retorted Constance scornfully. "Why, if a dozen women loved Ned, I shouldn't give him up."

"Constance, you forget that you are married."

"I don't; Dolly never gives me a chance of forgetting."

"Constance," Prelice spoke sharply, "you are a foolish, headstrong woman. Do you want to be disgraced?"

"There is no chance of that," cried Mrs. Rover in a fury. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

"Because I see you going headlong to ruin."

"You see nothing of the sort. I am a loyal wife, to Dolly. Ned knows that I love him now as I loved him before my marriage, and you know, Dorry, as he does, how my marriage came about."

"I know, but you ought to make the best of it."

"I am making the best of it," cried Constance, rising to stamp her foot in a royal rage. "There is not a breath of scandal against my name. No one can couple my name and Ned's together. We scarcely ever meet; but we can't prevent our feelings."

"Still," urged Prelice, in rather a futile manner, "since you have elected to become Mrs. Rover, you must consider your husband."

"Let him consider me first. I made a bargain with him, and he accepted, knowing that I loved Ned, and not him. He has broken that bargain in the meanest manner, and my father died of sheer worry through the breaking of it. Now I have to stifle my deep love for Ned, and act the part of a loving wife. I feel like a hypocrite."

"I don't think you need, Constance. People say that you treat Rover badly. It is as well that you should know."

"I do know. I have heard that before. But Dolly himself put that story about. I don't love him, and I don't pretend to; but I am as obedient and kind as I can be. I told you that I treated him like a dog. So I do, like a pet dog, a dog that is fed up and smoothed and cosseted and given cream and meat and all the things poodle dogs like; but Dolly goes about posing as a husband that is badly treated. He does not dare to say that I have deceived him, however," she added, drawing a deep breath; "he would suffer for it if he did. Miserable as I am, I abide by the bargain which he broke."

"But what is to be the end of it?"

"I don't know. I don't know," wailed Mrs. Rover, pacing the room, and holding her hands to her head. "I really believe that Dolly wants to see me disgraced. He took these flats above Ned's in spite of my protestations. I want him to go away, but he won't."

"Oh," said Prelice thoughtfully, "so Mr. Rover took these flats above Ned's, did he? Purposely?"

"I don't know." Constance paused, looking startled. "Why do you ask?"

Lord Prelice considered. "Constance, I want you to do me a favour."

"Yes." Mrs. Rover spoke softly and with an effort.

"Do you think that your husband wishes to get Ned into trouble?"

Constance put her hand to her head. "He hates Ned," she said at last in a strained voice, "because he knows that Ned loves me, and I do Ned. But for all his jealous watching, he cannot find anything wrong between Ned and myself. Because," she added, drawing herself up to her full height, "there is nothing wrong, and never will be."

"You have not answered my question," repeated Prelice quietly. "Do you think that Rover wishes to get Ned into trouble?

"Yes; I believe that he would be glad to see him dead."

"Well then, Constance, answer me another question. Would you like to see your husband get into trouble?"

"No," she said, with a startled air. "Dolly is a fool, and cruel, and I can scarcely endure him; all the same, I don't wish him any harm."

"That is all right," said Prelice, rising. "Then I can trust you to hold your tongue?"

"About what? Why are you so mysterious?"

"My poor girl, I would rather hold my peace than tell you what I am about to tell; but it is necessary that you should know. If I do not move in the matter someone less friendly to you and Rover may do so, and then only God knows what would happen."

"Dorry," Constance caught his hand, and passed her tongue over her dry lips slowly, "what do you mean? I have gone through so much that I'm quite able to face the worst."

"You won't scream?"

"No; I'm not a fool. Oh, what is it?" she blazed out, with a stamp, clenching her hands, and clenching her teeth also.

Prelice raised his hand. "I must tell you as I best can," he said in a peremptory tone, which quietened her. "After all, I may be mistaken. Is that dress you wore at your ball in your room?"

For answer Constance pressed the bell-button, and when the footman appeared, gave an order. "Tell my maid to bring me the frock and domino I wore at the ball—at the masked ball," she said; then faced Prelice when the man went out. "Are you about to accuse me?"

"No. Don't ask questions, Constance. I am sorry to keep you in suspense, but I can't help it. The whole thing is so extraordinary."

"What thing? What thing?"

But Prelice, perhaps mistakenly, would not tell her. The maid entered with the domino and dress, which Prelice at once recognised as the masked ball costume. He simply cast one glance at it, and then, "You can tell her to take it away again," he remarked.

Mrs. Rover did so wonderingly, and waited to hear what he had to say next.

"Take me to your husband's dressing-room in the other flat."

"What for?" she asked. "And how do you know that Dolly's dressing-room is in the other flat?"

"Never mind; take me there," said Prelice impatiently. He wished to get the things over as speedily as possible, as he saw how strung up she was; and yet until he was certain how could he accuse Rover? In his heart of hearts, Lord Prelice wished that he might be spared the disagreeable task of accusing Rover at all. But if he did not do so, it was not improbable that Jadby—to further his own ends—might intervene. And it was much better that Jadby, at all costs, should be kept out of the business, since he was not likely to spare either Constance or her husband. "Come, come," cried Prelice impatiently, and seeing that she did not move, "take me to your husband's dressing-room." And Constance led him thither like a woman in a dream.

They left one flat, and crossed the landing to the other. When in the dressing-room, which was luxuriously furnished, Mrs. Rover remained silent and observant at the door, while her friend examined the sanctum of her husband. So mysterious were his words and movements that she began to wish that she had not admitted him, since she did not desire to harm Dolly, objectionable as she found him. But if she could not trust Dorry in all ways, who could she trust?

Meanwhile Prelice peered into a wardrobe, and shook out the many suits it contained; he searched a large wooden press, wherein shirts and underlinen and handkerchiefs and collars were neatly laid out. But in each case he failed to find that for which he hunted, and drew a long breath of relief. Perhaps, after all, Madame Marie was wrong, in spite of the magical powers to which she laid claim. When at his wits' end, Prelice turned to Constance. "Isn't there a cupboard?" he asked.

"Over there," she said, pointing to the hither side of the fireplace. "You must be blind not to see it. Oh, it is unlocked," she added, noting that he hesitated. "Dolly has no secrets. There is nothing in it but old clothes and rubbish, which Trimmer"—this was Mr. Rover's valet—"stows there. Look into the cupboard by all means."

The young man made no reply to the sarcasm, but opened the cupboard of Bluebeard. It was deep and wide, with many pegs at the back and round the sides, upon which hung many clothes, out of date and slightly worn. On the floor was a heterogeneous pile of shabby slippers, discarded boots, sundry medicine bottles, tin boxes of polish, and many odds and ends, showing that this was a bag-o'-rags receptacle for sheer rubbish.

Prelice speedily pulled out all the clothes, and threw them on the floor, while Mrs. Rover shrugged and stared at his zeal. Suddenly he came upon a green silk domino, inside which was sewn the front of a white dress, streaked with thin lines of red velvet. The whole made one garment, easy to slip on and off, which, when worn, would look both like a dress and a domino. This very ingenious garb was hidden behind the discarded clothes, which apparently had not been disturbed for some considerable time, and only by removing all, as Prelice had done, could the domino and its clever fixings have been discovered.

"There," said the young man, holding it up for Mrs. Rover's inspection.

With staring eyes Mrs. Rover drew near, and handled the fabric. "An imitation of the frock and domino I wore at my ball," she gasped; then added after a pause: "A woman never wore this."

"Ned said that the person who waved the bronze cup under his nose to make him insensible was a woman," said Prelice significantly.

"Oh," gasped Constance, taking his meaning at once. "Dolly? It's a lie!"