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What Stephen might have said was, that they could save the journey by telegraphing to Mademoiselle Soubise to ask whether Miss Ray had arrived in Tlemcen. But the brightness in Nevill's eyes and the hopefulness in his voice kept back the prosaic suggestion. "I say, by all means let's go to Tlemcen," he answered.
As Stephen came from behind the barricade which screened the dining-room from the courtyard, he found Rostafel shooting right and left at men who tried to climb the rear wall, having been missed by Nevill's fire. Rostafel had recovered the rifle snatched by Stephen in his stampede to the stairway, and, sobered by the fight, was making good use of it.
He did not at once go out to dinner, though he was exceedingly hungry. He was impulsive and impatient, and he had conceived a plan whereby he might punish Victor Nevill's perfidy without a public exposure, and at the same time, he fondly hoped, do Jack a good turn. "It will hardly be safe to wait longer," he reflected, "for all I know to the contrary, the girl may be married to-morrow.
Then, round a corner the wand of an invisible magician waves: darkness and winter cold become summer warmth and light. This light was the level golden glory of late afternoon when Stephen saw it from Nevill's car; and so green were the wide stretching meadows and shining rivers far below, that he seemed to be looking at them through an emerald, as Nero used to gaze at his gardens in Rome.
He listened to all that Jimmie had to tell him sat with stern eyes and compressed lips while the black tale of Victor Nevill's treachery was recounted. He could not doubt when he had read the murdered woman's statement; it breathed truth in every word. He crushed the letter in his hand, as though he wished it had been the throat of his enemy. "Nevill, of all men!" he said, hoarsely.
He had nothing to say to the girl which he might not say before Nevill, or even before Lady MacGregor, yet he had been feeling cheated because he could not be alone with Victoria, as on the boat. "Gather Miss Ray as many lilies as she can carry away," were Nevill's parting instructions. And it was exactly what Stephen had wished for.
"I wonder she has the face to mention John's name!" "Why, pray?" "After her disgraceful conduct to him." "I think you know very little about Miss Nevill's conduct, Helen." "No, I dare say not. And you have always known a great deal more about it than anybody else. That I have always understood, Maurice." Maurice looked very black, but he was silent.
We had delightful quarters in Major Nevill's "compound." The rooms were divided into sleeping- and bath- rooms, and tents were thrown out from either entrance. The front opened into the garden. Two servants, a man and a woman, were placed at our disposal. In short, nothing was wanting to our comfort. That night we went to a dinner-party and ball at Government House Sir Richard and Lady Meade's.
But in that case," he bent nearer and dropped his voice to a whisper, "I'll take my secret straight to Sir Lucius Chesney. And I'll warrant he won't refuse to hear it." Nevill's countenance changed, and he seemed to wilt instantly. "Your secret?" he muttered. "Are you telling the truth? What is it?" "Do you suppose I'm going to give that away here in the street?
"What if I refuse?" he added aloud. A dangerous light flashed in Nevill's eyes. "I won't give her up," he replied; and in the words there was a hidden menace which Stephen Foster understood. "Give her up?" he echoed. "You have not won her yet." "I know that, but I hope to succeed." "What do you expect me to do?" "All in your power. Give me a fair show."
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