“Hussy! Be off and fetch Marie, and also go and tell Caroline to descend to the sitting room and remain with Freda until I send for her.”
The housekeeper sped away upon her errand, and his lordship, after allowing a suitable interval to elapse, motioned to the stranger to ascend the staircase. Once within the library, the lord seated himself across from the fellow and said curtly:
“Now, my fine fellow, I am going to give you an opportunity to prove your claim. You say you are Marie's husband, that you have documentary evidence of your marriage. Well, produce it. But even so, and not withstanding, that will not prove sufficient excuse for your unwarrantable intrusion.”
The young man fumbled about his person and, obtaining some papers, threw them upon the table. Roxboro scanned them carefully, satisfying himself that they bore out the young man's claim. “Mr. Montgomery, eh? Well, sir, you are not exactly a person of lily-white character; when your wife came here, I took the liberty of investigating her references and I find that you, as a husband, have been somewhat of an indifferent success. And besides, I have knowledge that you are in demand by the police and have been several times in your life!”
The man visibly paled and his hands fidgeted nervously. Roxboro, seeing his advantage, waved his pistol and continued: “Young man, you have been apprehended red-handed in an attempt to enter and burglarize this mansion, and upon my word! I shall have you cast into jail and I assure you that your past record when taken into consideration will add materially to your sentence. Now, young man, what have you to say for yourself?”
The chap made a wry face and said, “Well, you seem to have me there! My wife is an artful baggage; I'll wager she has told you some of the experiences I have had, else how could you have come into possession of the knowledge you seem to have?”
“Sir!” replied Roxboro. “Your wife, as you call her, has told me nothing; she is merely employed here. Judging from the rather unusual method in which you sought to gain entrance to see her, it would appear that her life with you was not altogether pleasant. I think that it would perhaps be better for all concerned if you were forthwith turned over to the local constabulary.”
“Well, you've got me,” replied the man shortly. “I simply can't afford to be taken as my previous record would be against me. However, if you would permit me to leave, I promise you that I will annoy you no further and you will never again see me about the place. It will do you no good to turn me over, and once I am gone, it will be as if nothing had ever happened.”
Many ideas were passing through Roxboro's mind as he sat and considered this proposition. He remembered what Marie had told him of this man's lustful cruelty and strange mannerisms; the man was now in his power and he determined to at least satisfy his curiosity.
“I think I shall turn you over to the constable; prison is the best place for people of your type. It is a duty that I owe to the country at large to see that such men as yourself are placed in the proper place to restrain their activities.”
Realizing that his plea was likely to fail, the young fellow lost much of his former swagger and insolence. He gazed about him like a caged animal and, looking earnestly into Roxboro's face, he said, “Oh, sir, I only came with the idea of seeing Marie for a few moments. I had no idea of committing any crime; believe me, sir, I mean every word I have spoken. Please give me a chance, I have not harmed you in any way. If you will let me go, I promise you I shall leave immediately and bother you no more.”
“I will make no deal,” replied the lord, and arising from his seat, he started for the door, but stopped suddenly as though struck with an idea. “I wonder… I wonder… it is not possible… my man, what is your regular occupation, aside from your strange penchant for entering people's abodes through the window?”
“Oh, sir, I can do most anything,” said the youth eagerly. “Come, my lord, do not be too hard on me. If you only knew what that girl did to me, you would not blame me for acting as I have done; if you will only permit me to go, I will never darken your door again.”
“I believe your wife told me you were a gentleman's man; is that true?”
“Yes, sir, I was a valet.”
“Hm! Well, let's see,” remarked Roxboro, and returning to his desk, he seated himself and drew forth writing materials. “Now, if you wish to get yourself out of this mess, you will do exactly as I say; if not, we will call in the constable and you will be on your way. Which is it?”
“Whatever you wish, sir,” replied the man. Roxboro handed him pen, ink, and paper, and directed that he write as dictated to. Hesitating slightly, the fellow wrote at Roxboro's dictation. What he wrote was for the most part exaggeration and not a few outright lies, but the poor fellow was in a tight spot and felt he was choosing the lesser of two evils. When he had finished, Roxboro called in Carl to act as witness; he had Montgomery sign the paper and Carl also signed. Dismissing Carl, he turned to Montgomery and said:
“I have decided to have you remain here in this house and have you act as my personal valet for such a time as I see fit; you are to obey me implicitly in all things while you are here and you will regard Marie-unless otherwise instructed-as a perfect stranger. There must be no relations between you. You gather what I mean? I shall pay you well for your time and I shall discharge you when I see fit. On the other hand, if you rebel”-waving the paper in the air-“I have here a signed confession, which will put you behind bars for some time to come. Now, be guided by your common sense; if you know what is good for you, you will behave yourself and everything will be all right.”
“I realize my situation,” replied Montgomery, his face clearing at this unexpected good fortune. “I assure you I shall have nothing to do with Marie; I will be obedient in all matters, as you put it, and I am sure you will not regret your decision. But, sir, will you answer just one question, please? I should like to ask you if my wife… if Marie… that is… does Marie occupy a higher position in the house than that of a housemaid?”
“Your wife, Montgomery, has told me all that happened between yourself and her, and if you are trying to determine whether she and I have been intimate, I will answer you frankly: yes! Marie has been kind enough to bestow upon me those favors that are usually given by a maid to a man and in telling you this I feel no sense of shame or guilt. Nor do I mind admitting it to you, since this little piece of paper which I hold makes you as helpless as a baby; I might state that Marie is a luscious morsel and I enjoyed her very much. What have you to say to that?”
“Very good, my lord,” replied Montgomery, rubbing his hands. “Marie is a wonderful piece; we are agreed on that, and so far as my objecting or minding her having been unfaithful to me, I have no objection whatever. I am only sorry that she left me before I had an opportunity of trying out upon her some ideas which were in my head but which I had no chance to try out before her disappearance.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Roxboro, “which reminds me that you submitted her to all sorts of humiliating and unusual situations; is this true? Marie has told me you beat and abused her; and when thus incited, you experienced more than ordinary pleasure in your lust. Speak frankly. I am curious to know what your reactions are upon this line, so tell me freely just how and why you do these things and what their effect is upon you.”
Roxboro settled back in his easy chair, eyeing Montgomery closely: the man seemed somewhat uncertain as to just how to answer. His hands twitched rather nervously and his eyes shifted uneasily as he seemed to be casting about as to just how to begin.
“Well, my lord, it's like this. You see, although I am not ordinarily a cruel man-that is, I never mistreat animals or anything of that sort, and usually the sight of pain is very repugnant to me, at times when I am heated up sexually, my whole nature seems to change. I then love to subject my partner to the most excruciating tortures; I gloat in it and receive a supreme thrill from the imposition of abuse and pain upon a woman; this serves to whet and increase my sexual appetite and render me more potent and the act more enjoyable-yes, by God! a thousand times more delectable. I find that it also increases the intensity for the woman; I can assure you that when you have a beautiful woman, helpless in your arms, beaten and cowed, there is more sensual thrill in her quivering form than could be obtained from a thousand harlots; and strangely, the woman herself, abused and tortured, seems to also receive a heightened thrill from the performance. I can't explain it, but I know that it is so; I have experimented with many women and usually the results are as I say. Marie herself is of that type; treat her kindly and she is almost indifferent; beat her and abuse her and she bums with passion.”
“How strange,” remarked Roxboro innocently; “I never heard of such a thing; it seems rather unconventional, eh? Men usually look up to and treat the object of their love with great tenderness, protecting rather than torturing. Your explanation is very peculiar, to say the least.” At the same time, however, he was remembering Marie and her strange actions: the pranks she could play with such cunning and the merry spankings she had received from her master's able hands upon her charming posterior. However, preserving his air of innocence, he continued, like a
