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Updated: May 21, 2025
She actually held in her hand a summary of the telegrams he had dispatched from Bristol, but her mind was too confused to work in its customary grooves, and she blurted out Medenham's title in a frantic attempt to gain his support. "It means this," he said coolly, resolved to clear the ground thoroughly for Mrs. Devar's benefit; "your French ally is resorting to the methods of the blackmailer.
Yet, so strangely constituted is human nature of the Devar variety, she would have given half the money she possessed if she could have recalled that letter an hour later. But His Majesty's mails are inexorable as fate. A twopence-ha'penny stamp had linked Symon's Yat and Paris, and not all Mrs. Devar's world-worn ingenuity could sunder that link. For this is what happened. To Mrs.
Devar's distinctly chilly, "Oh, not at all!" in response to Cynthia's polite apology for deserting her until they neared Brighton. Somehow, the car underwent a subtle change when the girl took her seat by his side. From a machine quivering with life and power it became a triumphal chariot.
Medenham had turned to leave the hotel when he heard a gurgling cry: "Mr. Fitzroy Lord Medenham what does it all mean?" Mrs. Devar's distress was pitiable. Snatches of talk overheard in Paris and elsewhere warned her that Mrs. Leland would prove an unconquerable foe.
Devar's change of front had caused him some grim amusement, but the discovery of Marigny's artifice roused his wrath again. It was high time that Cynthia should be enlightened, partly at least, as to the true nature of the "accident" that had befallen her; he had already solved the riddle of Smith's disappearance. "The road to Bristol lies behind you, Miss Vanrenen," he said.
Devar's ultra-fashionable intonation died away midst the chatter and laughter of other promenaders. Medenham's first impulse was to follow and listen, since Devar had yielded to the common delusion of imagining that none except his companion on the sea-front that night understood a foreign language.
But Cynthia was near, waving her hands gleefully, and executing a nymph-like thanksgiving dance on a strip of turf by the roadside, so Medenham's views of Mrs. Devar's previous actions were tempered by conditions extraordinarily favorable to her at the moment. She seemed to be aware instinctively of the change in his sentiments wrought by sight of Cynthia.
Medenham was sure she would not dare to leave him. What wretched project she and Marigny had concocted he knew not, but its successful outcome evidently depended on Mrs. Devar's safe arrival in Bristol. Moreover, it was a paramount condition that he should be delayed at Cheddar, and his chief interest lay in defeating that part of the programme.
"Now," said she, looking, not at Medenham, but at the Titanic cleft cut by a tiny river, "now, please, tell me all about it." "Just as at Cheddar, the rocks are limestone " he began. "Oh, bother the rocks! How did you get rid of Simmonds? And why is Count Marigny mad? And are you mixed up in Captain Devar's mighty smart change of base? Tell me everything. I hate mysteries.
Hermione herself laughed the notion to scorn: and a ready opportunity for such effective exorcism of an evil spirit was supplied by Devar's tact. When the two young men reached the hotel Devar insisted that Curtis should take Hermione for an hour's run in the park. "Here's the car, and it's a fine morning, and you've got the girl. What more do you want?" he cried.
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