The Soul Stealer. Thorne Guy

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СКАЧАТЬ that she had angled for Sir William with an alertness and unwearying pursuit which was at last crowned by success. More charitable people, and especially those who knew and liked Miss Poole, said that the girl would never have lent herself to any schemes of her mother's unless she had been genuinely fond of the man to whom she was engaged. There had been much talk and speculation over the engagement at first, a speculation which had in its turn died away, and which during the last few weeks had been again revived by certain incidents.

      Eustace Charliewood, whose whole life and business it was to gather and retail society gossip, was very well aware of the reason which made people once more wag their heads and hint this or that about the Gouldesbrough engagement.

      Mr. Guy Rathbone had appeared upon the scene, a young barrister of good family but of no particular fortune. Several times Mr. Rathbone had been seen skating with Miss Poole at Prince's. At this or that dance—Sir William Gouldesbrough did not go to dances—Rathbone had danced a good deal with Miss Poole. Many envious and linx-like eyes had watched them for some weeks, and men were beginning to say in the clubs that "young Rathbone is going to put the scientific Johnny's nose out of joint."

      It was this knowledge which caused the little sneering smile to appear on Charliewood's face, and it gave him pleasure to detect the human weakness of jealousy in the inscrutable man who held him so tightly in his grip.

      "Well, all right," Charliewood said at length. "I'll do what you want."

      "That's a good fellow," Sir William answered, smiling genially, his whole face lighting up and becoming markedly attractive as it did so, "you've always been a good friend to me, Charliewood."

      "My banking account is very low just at present," the other went on.

      "Then I'll write you a cheque at once," Sir William answered, getting up from his chair and going to the writing-table in the corner of the room.

      Charliewood's face cleared a little. Then he noticed his cigar had been burning all down one side. He dropped it into an ash-tray and put his hand in his coat pocket to find a cigarette.

      He took out an ordinary silver case, when his eye fell upon the crest engraved upon the cover. He started and looked again, turning it so that the light fell full upon it.

      The crest of the Charliewood family was a hand with a battle-axe and the motto, "Ne Morare," and in the usual custom it was engraved upon Charliewood's own case.

      But this was not the Charliewood crest. It was a wyvern charged on a shield, and the motto consisted of the single word "GARDEZ."

      He gave a startled exclamation.

      "What's the matter?" Sir William said, turning round sharply.

      "I've got some other fellow's cigarette-case," Charliewood answered in amazement, opening it as he did so.

      There was only one cigarette in the case, but there were several visiting-cards in one compartment, and moreover the name of the owner was cut in the inside of the lid.

      The case dropped from Charliewood's fingers with a clatter, and he grew quite pale.

      "What is it?" his host inquired again.

      "Have you been playing some infernal trick on me, Gouldesbrough?" Charliewood said.

      "No; why?"

      "Because this cigarette-case, by some strange chance, is the cigarette-case of the man we've been talking about, this Guy Rathbone!"

      He stood up, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of the fur coat as he did so. Then he pulled out a letter, stamped and addressed and obviously ready for the post.

      "Good heavens!" he said, "here's something else. It's a letter for the post."

      "Who is it addressed to?" Sir William asked in a curious voice.

      Charliewood looked at it and started again.

      "As I live," he answered, "it's addressed to Miss Poole, 100A, Curzon Street!"

      There was a curious silence for a moment or two. Both men looked at each other, and mingled astonishment and alarm were on the face of either. The whole thing seemed uncanny. They seemed, while concocting something like a plot, to have trodden unawares into another.

      Suddenly Charliewood stamped his foot upon the ground and peeled off his overcoat.

      "I've got it," he cried. "Why, of course I've seen the very man myself this morning. This is his coat, not mine. I went to a hairdresser's this morning and left my coat in the ante-room while I was going through a massage treatment. When I came out there was a man waiting there for his turn, and I must have taken his coat in exchange for mine. And the man was this Mr. Guy Rathbone, of course. You know these dark blue coats lined with astrachan are quite ordinary, everybody is wearing them this year. And I noticed, by Jove, that the thing seemed a little tight in the cab! It's about the oddest coincidence that I've ever come across in my life!"

      Sir William bowed his head in thought for a minute or two.

      "Well, this is the very best opportunity you could have, my dear fellow," he said, "of making the man's acquaintance. Of course you can take him back the coat and the cigarette-case at once."

      "And the letter?" Charliewood said swiftly. "The letter to Miss Poole?"

      Sir William looked curiously at his guest.

      "I think," he said slowly, "that I'll just spend half-an-hour with this letter first. Then you can take it away with the other things. I assure you that it will look just the same as it does now."

      Charliewood shrugged his shoulders.

      "Have it your own way," he said contemptuously, "but don't ask me to open any letters to a lady, that's all."

      Sir William flushed up and was about to make an angry reply, when the door of the study was suddenly thrown open and they saw the butler standing there.

      There was a rustle of skirts in the passage.

      "Lady Poole and Miss Poole, sir," said the butler.

CHAPTER III

       Table of Contents

NEWS OF A REVOLUTION

       Table of Contents

      Marjorie and Lady Poole came into the room. For two at least of the people there it was an agonizing moment. But a second before, Sir William Gouldesbrough had been proposing to steal and open a letter written by another man to his fiancée. But a second before, Mr. Eustace Charliewood, the well-known society man, had sullenly acquiesced in the proposal. And now here was Marjorie Poole confronting them.

      "We thought we'd come to tea, William," Lady Poole said effusively, going forward to shake hands with her future son-in-law. "Ah, Mr. Charliewood, how do you do?" She gave him a bright nod, and he turned to Marjorie, while her mother was shaking СКАЧАТЬ