The Runaways - Nat Gould (i like reading TXT) 📗

one wife; you have two."

"What does the man mean?" asked the Squire.

"He's a fool, or worse; come away from him," said Warren, "or I shall do him an injury."

"I don't know who you are," said Felix, addressing the Squire; "but if you are his father-in-law I can tell you he is a bad lot. His wife, Mrs. Warren, lives with my mother, and that is the address; you can call and see for yourself," he said, as he handed him a card.

Warren snatched it out of his hand and tore it up.

"Give me another card," said the Squire, and Felix handed one to him, Warren not daring to interfere on this occasion.

They moved away from Felix Hoffman, and the Squire said—

"What is the meaning of this? Is there any truth in it?"

"He's a confounded liar," said Warren, angrily.

Felix Hoffman heard him, and said—

"I am not. If you want to learn the truth, ask his wife; she knows all about it."

Warren stepped up to him in fury, struck him a heavy blow on the mouth, and knocked him down.

Fortunately a race was being run at the time, and there were only a few people in the paddock. The Squire forced Warren away with him, and they left Felix sprawling on the grass.

"You ought not to have struck him," said the Squire.

"He deserved it."

"Was there any truth in what he said?"

"No, none whatever. It is true I have been to his house, and that a Mrs. Warren lives there, but I have nothing to do with her, you may rest assured of that."

"He said Irene knew all about it."

"Which is absurd, because there is nothing to know. That is the man who wrote the begging-letter Irene showed you, and you said the matter ought to be placed in the hands of the police."

"The scoundrel; he deserves all he got and more," said the Squire.

Warren was relieved at this change of front, and said—

"He once gave me a winner at Hurst Park, and he has pestered me for money ever since. He was asking me to lend him ten pounds just before you came up. It was because I refused he trumped up this story about Mrs. Warren. It is all a fabrication."

"I am glad to hear it," answered the Squire, not quite satisfied.

Warren went into the ring, and when the Squire entered the box Ulick left Irene in his charge.

"We have had rather an unpleasant scene in the paddock," said the Squire; "that fellow Hoffman, who wrote to you, insulted Warren, and he knocked him down. It served him right."

Irene turned pale and said, in an agitated voice—

"What did he say?"

"Told a pack of lies about Warren and some woman living at his house. I don't believe a word of it," said the Squire. "He gave me his address and told me to go and find out for myself. Here it is," and he handed her the card.

Irene was in desperate straits. He must be prevented from visiting Mrs. Hoffman's house at any cost.

"Of course, you will take no notice of it," she said.

"The fellow actually said you knew all about it, but I did not believe him. By gad, if I thought Warren had deceived you I would make things hot for him."

"He has not deceived me," she replied. "Please do me a favour; take no further notice of the matter."

"Warren snatched the first card he offered me out of his hand. Why did he do that?" asked the Squire.

"No doubt he thought it an insult for him to offer it to you," she replied.

"That may have been the reason. I hope so," he replied.

A feeling of depression seemed to have come over them, and Ulick, who had returned, said—

"I am afraid the excitement has been too much for you all. Shall we go home, there are only two more races?"

They readily agreed, with the exception of Warren, who said he would see it out and return after the last race.

This irritated the Squire, but he made no remark, and they left him to his own devices.

Warren immediately sent a telegram to Janet telling her to go away at once, as the Squire had her address.

Janet was surprised at this, but she wondered still more when another wire came from Irene to the same effect, and asking her to send an address to the Walton.

The Squire, however, had no intention of going to Feltham, and when he returned to Hazelwell Janet went back to Mrs. Hoffman's.

Warren Courtly felt he had better make a clean breast of it. He would tell Irene all, and trust to her generosity to forgive him.

A week after the races, when they had returned to Anselm Manor, Warren Courtly said to his wife—

"Irene, I have something to tell you: it is humiliating for me to have to confess that I have done wrong, and it will cause you pain to hear my story."

She knew what he was about to say, but thought it better to allow him to tell his own story. She was glad he made her his confidante, and confessed his fault. She felt she could almost forgive him. To love him was impossible, for her heart was not in her own keeping.

"You recollect when Janet Todd disappeared from home?"

"And Ulick Maynard was, and still is by many people, suspected of wronging her," she said.

"He did not wrong her, he is perfectly innocent. It was before I became on intimate terms with you that I was infatuated with Janet. She was pretty and attracted me, and gradually we drifted together, until we became more than mere friends. I persuaded her to leave home and go to London. She is there now, and I have never deserted her, or let her want for anything. When I knew you, Irene, and loved you, I severed all connection with Janet, and we have been almost strangers to each other ever since our marriage. Can you forgive me for what I have done? It would have been unpardonable had I continued to see Janet, but I have only done so when she requested more money than I thought necessary."

He felt relieved now he had told her, and waited for her reply.

"I have not much to forgive," she said. "It is Ulick Maynard who has been wronged. You must tell the Squire all."

"Never," he exclaimed.

"Then I shall be compelled to do so, to clear Ulick. That reparation you owe him, if not more," she said, firmly.

"I would not have told you had I thought you would act like this."

"It was needless; I knew all. I have seen Janet, and she has confessed everything to me," was Irene's reply.

He looked amazed. "You have seen her!" he exclaimed. "How did you find her out?"

"Felix Hoffman sent me her address, for a consideration."

"So you have been spying on me, playing the lady detective. I am much obliged to you, and am sorry I confessed my fault," he said, sneeringly.

"When you confessed I admired you for it; you are changing my opinion of you," she replied.

"I forbid you to tell the Squire. Perhaps you would like to confide in Ulick, you appear to be very good friends?"

"It would be useless, he already knows everything," she said, quietly.

Warren Courtly felt decidedly small, but he hardly believed her.

"He knows nothing," he said.

"He does, for he was in her house on one occasion when you called to see Janet. He heard her story, and for my sake forbade her to speak of it, or return home," she said.

"For your sake," he said, sarcastically. "Did he tell you this?"

"No; Ulick is far too honourable for that," she replied, hotly. "He is not mean or underhand. Janet gave me the information."

"Which, no doubt, you were glad to receive," he said.

"I was, for it proved there was at least one man in the world who thought me worthy of sacrifices on his part," she answered, bitterly.

"If he knows I took Janet away, why does he not tell his father?" asked Warren.

"He will never tell him."

"Because he loves you?" said Warren.

"And if he does?" she asked, proudly. "What then? Am I not worthy to be loved by a good man?"

"Do you return his love?" he asked, savagely.

"Yes," she said, calmly.

He laughed harshly, as he replied—

"Then you have no cause to complain of my conduct with Janet."

"You degrade yourself and me by speaking in that manner. You know that Ulick has no knowledge that I love him, or is aware that I know he loves me. I am your wife and will do my duty. You will have no cause to complain, all the wrong is on your side," she said.

"Tell the Squire if you like," he said. "Only remember, if you do I shall sell Anselm Manor and leave the country, and you will go with me. You are my wife, and must obey me."

"That is a threat you will never carry out," she said.

"I will; so you can think it over. There is another thing I wish to mention. If you inform the Squire, I will make matters very unpleasant for yourself and Ulick. I have ample grounds for suspicion."

She did not deign to answer him, but walked proudly out of the room.

"So he knows," thought Warren, moodily. "What a coward he must think me. I'll prove to him I am not one before this year is out, how or when I do not know, but I'll do it."

He went into the stable yard and mounted a horse that stood ready saddled.

Irene saw him ride away at a breakneck pace, and wondered where he was going. After all, he was her husband, and she felt anxious about him. She knew how he would feel about Ulick, and dreaded the consequences. She wished she had spoken more kindly to him, but he insulted her with his implied suspicions.

As the evening wore on, and he did not return, she became more and more uneasy.

It was after eleven when she heard the sound of horse's hoofs coming up the drive, and shortly after Warren entered the room.

"I am glad you have returned," she said, softly. "I was anxious about you. I spoke harshly to you, perhaps, but I was excited, and hardly knew what I said. If you wish I will not tell the Squire about Janet."

He was surprised at her words. His ride had done him good, the gallop across country had aroused him to a better frame of mind.

"I thought you would not care what became of me," he said. "When I can screw up my courage I will tell the Squire Ulick is innocent, but I cannot do it yet. Give me a little time, Irene, and all will come right in the end."

"I hope so," she said. "Do not be reckless because we have quarrelled. Let us make the best of things as they are. I am very glad to hear you have decided to tell the Squire all, it is the very best thing you can do, and I am sure it will be a relief to you."

CHAPTER XVIII. "TALLY-HO!"

The year passed rapidly away, and the hunting season was in full swing. The Rushshire