The Splendid Outcast. Gibbs George

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СКАЧАТЬ – ? How can you ask? No. There are no other women in Paris, Piquette."

      "You are cruel," she muttered in a low tone, her dark eyes flashing.

      "No. It is a matter of importance. Will you let me have your address – ?"

      "№ 82 Boulevard Clichy – de same place."

      "Good. To-morrow I will write you."

      Without a word she gathered up her cloak and led the way out, looking about curiously for her enemy of the evening. But Harry had disappeared. She said nothing and they went out into the street where Jim Horton found a cab and put her into it.

      "Méchant!" she whispered softly.

      "It is not my fault, Piquette. Soon – "

      He gave the address to the cocher and she was gone.

      Jim Horton stood for a moment listening to the sounds of the retreating fiacre as it rattled away over the cobblestones and then turned slowly back, his anger at his discoveries, long repressed by the necessities of his masquerade, suddenly bursting the barriers of his self-control. Moira – innocent – the catspaw, the stool-pigeon for these two rascals! How much did she know? How could Quinlevin have carried the deception out all these years without de Vautrin suspecting something? And if, as it seemed, he was suspicious of them now, who had told? His own duty seemed very clear. Every impulse of honor and decency urged that he find this Duc de Vautrin and tell the whole truth. But there was Moira … his first duty was to her. But telling her meant revealing the secret of Harry's disgrace and his own part in it. That would be a difficult thing to do, but he would have to do it. He would tell her to-morrow.

      As for Harry – he would make short work of him. He went with long determined strides to the appointed spot and Harry met him with a threatening air.

      "What the Hell has she been saying?" he muttered.

      Jim Horton was angry, but he kept himself well in hand, aware of his own physical superiority to this blustering shell of intrigue, deceit and cowardice, built in his own image. If earlier in the evening he had had his moments of pity for his brother's misfortunes, if he had planned to make restitution for the imprudence that had resulted in their undoing, he had no such gentle feeling or purpose now.

      As he didn't reply, his brother continued angrily. "You've gone about your limit, I tell you. What did she tell you?"

      "Everything. I've got the whole story. And I'd like to tell you before we go any further that you're just about the crookedest – " He broke off with a shrug.

      "What's the use? The worst thing I could say would be a compliment. But you've come to the end of your tether. I don't know why I hoped there might be a chance of getting you to go straight – for her – but I did. The interesting revelations of this charming lady have removed the impression. The money you took from the estate, your questionable deals in America, your habits, put you outside the pale of decency, but the blackmail of the Duc with your own wife as stool-pigeon – "

      Harry in a sudden blind fury that took no thought of consequences struck viciously, but Jim, who had been watching for the blow, warded it, tripped his brother neatly and sent him spinning against the wall where he fell and lay motionless. But he was unhurt – only bewildered by the result of his own incapacity.

      "Get up!" Jim ordered. "Somebody will be coming along in a moment and we'll both be going with the police."

      Harry saw reason in that and slowly got to his feet, pale, still trembling with rage, rubbing his hip joint, but subdued. The place they had chosen was in the shadow and the hour was late, and no one was about, but Jim Horton took a glance up and down the deserted street before he resumed his interrupted remarks.

      "I don't want any man's uniform when it's been defiled. You ought to have known that. I'm going to take it off and give it back to you."

      He saw the eager surprised look that came into Harry's face and raised his hand in warning – "But not yet. First I'm going to tell your wife the truth and then I'm going to warn the Duc de Vautrin."

      Harry started back as though to dodge another blow, the reaction of his venture setting in with the terror of this information.

      "Jim!" he whispered, clutching at his arm. "You wouldn't do that, Jim. My God! It's ruin to me – and you too."

      "I'm prepared for that – "

      "Don't, for God's sake don't! Wait. I've met you half way, haven't I? I'll do anything you say. I'll steer Quinlevin off and drop the thing. It was his idea – not mine. And he wouldn't have thought of it if the old man hadn't shut off the allowance – "

      "Tell me the truth," Jim broke in sternly. "How much money did Quinlevin owe you?"

      "Twenty thousand dollars – "

      "And that was Moira's price – " contemptuously.

      "I wanted her. I loved her. I swear to God I did. I love her now. I'd give anything to be able to go to her to-night – "

      "You – ! You forget what I know."

      "It's the truth."

      "How much were you to get of this money of the Duc's?"

      Harry halted, mumbling, "That wasn't settled."

      "Well, it's settled now," said Jim, with an air of finality, turning aside.

      "What are you going to do?"

      "Tell her – in the morning."

      "You can't, Jim. Why, she'd go right to Quinlevin."

      "I expect her to – and the Duke."

      Harry leaned back against the wall, his fingers working at his trouser legs, but he was speechless.

      "That's about all, I think," said Jim dryly. "Good-bye."

      "Then you won't listen – not if I promise – "

      "What – ?"

      "Anything. Why, you've got me, Jim. I can't do a thing with you ready to tell Moira – even if I wanted to. What's the use? It only means ruin for you. Wait a few days and we'll have another talk; just wait until to-morrow night. Give me a chance to think. I'll even – I'll even get out of France and go out West somewhere and make a fresh start. I will. I mean it. I did you a dirty trick once, but I'll try to square myself. Give me a chance. Think it over. Meet me to-morrow. I'm all in to-night. Promise you won't speak."

      "No," said Jim, after a moment of deliberation. "I'll promise nothing, but I'll meet you to-morrow night at Javet's – at twelve – with the money."

      Harry gasped a sigh of relief and straightened, offering his hand. "Thanks, Jim. To-morrow. And you won't tell her, I know. You couldn't. It would be too cruel. She'll suffer – my God! You know her. Can't you see how she'd suffer?"

      "I – I didn't start this thing – "

      "But you'll finish it, Jim. She believes in him, even if she doesn't believe in me. It will kill her."

      He saw that he had made an impression on his brother. Jim stood silent, his head bowed.

      "Don't tell her to-morrow, Jim," Harry pleaded. "Promise."

      Jim СКАЧАТЬ