Georgina had covered herself by jerking the bedclothes up to her chin. Roger had seized the chance while they were storming at one another to slip out of bed and pull on his robe. Now, stepping forward, he said firmly:
'Sir Humphrey. My name is Roger Brook. I am prepared to give you full satisfaction whenever it may suit you. Let us curtail this undignified scene and behave like gentlemen. Be good enough to leave the room with me and give me the names of your seconds.'
The irate husband swung upon him. 'My quarrel is not with you, Sir! That Frenchman, whoever he may be, said in the note he sent to Goodwood that if I immediately took horse and got here by dawn I should find a young cockscomb warming my wife's bed for me. But whether 'twas yourself or another I do not give a damn. 'Tis her I have ridden twenty-five miles to catch. And now I've caught her I intend to give her a damn good flogging, for 'tis the only language she will understand.'
As he ceased his tirade he stepped swiftly round the side of the bed and, raising his whip, struck at Georgina.
Roger threw himself across the bed in an effort to shield her and grabbed at the lash as it descended. Missing her face by an inch it caught him across the back of his left hand, but he failed to grasp it. Realising the futility of such half-measures he slid off the bed and squared up to Sir Humphrey.
Ignoring him, the purple-faced Baronet struck at Georgina a
second time. She had stretched out her hand to snatch up a heavy cut-glass scent bottle that stood on her bedside table. Just as she grasped it the lash came down again, cutting her across the neck and down the upper part of her naked back.
Out of the corner of his eye Roger saw the lash fall, and heard her give a swift whimper. Head down, fists clenched and half-mad with rage he sailed into Sir Humphrey, striking out with all his force. His right caught the Baronet a terrific blow just below the heart. At the same instant Georgina flung the scent-bottle and it caught her husband on the temple. He gave a grunt, lurched, and fell to the floor.
For a moment he lay silent and they stared at him in horror; then he began to groan. Georgina jumped out of bed and made to kneel down beside him; but Roger thrust her aside.
'Leave this to me,' he muttered. 'And in heaven's name get some clothes on before the commotion we have raised brings the household upon us.'
As she hurried into her nightdress and pulled a chamber-robe over it, he swiftly loosed Sir Humphrey's cravat to ease his breathing. The Baronet continued to groan and rolled his head painfully from side to side a little; but he showed no signs of returning consciousness.
Georgina ran to her washstand, picked up a jug of cold water and, running back with it, sluiced its contents over his head and shoulders.
Roger had already examined the side of the injured man's head where the scent-bottle had struck it. There was only a small cut from which a few drops of blood were oozing; but the scent had sprayed all over him and the whole room now reeked of the heady perfume.
Kneeling down opposite Roger, Georgina wiped the few drops of blood from her husband's head with a handkerchief. She had hardly done so when the movements of his neck ceased, his mouth fell open, and a horrible rattling noise began to issue from his throat.
It continued for a full minute while they knelt there petrified. Suddenly it ceased. Both of them looked up at the same moment and their terrified glances met across the body.
CHAPTER v
A BID FOR LIFE
ROGER was kneeling on the left side of the corpse; Georgina on its right. Neither of them moved. White-faced and stunned they continued to stare at one another across it.
Suddenly Georgina broke the silence in a frightened whisper.
'Roger—in the crystal yesterday! Your—your heavy loss at cards!'
He nodded. 'And for you—the treachery through a letter writ in a foreign hand!'
Again there flashed into both their minds the third picture she had conjured up from the depths of the water- filled goblet; the courtroom scene—the judge in his red robe—the gallows tree.
Georgina's mouth opened wide to give forth a terrified scream. At the sight something clicked in Roger's brain. From a scared youngster with a mind numbed by shock and fright, he became in an instant a clear-headed man of action. Reaching out he slapped her smartly across the face.
Her scream was cut short in her throat. She blinked her eyes and tears welled up into them; but her nerves steadied as she felt Roger's hand grasp hers and heard him speaking in a swift low voice.
'If we would save our necks 'tis imperative that you should quell your hysteria, and disregard that ugly portent. To count it a glimpse of a future definitely ordained is to admit defeat and invite conviction. 'Twould be as sensible to surrender ourselves to the sheriff's officers within the hour, and confess to murder. If God grants us a little time we may yet concoct a story; and save ourselves by convincing the authorities that he died by an accident.'
As she did not reply, he added urgently: 'Speak, Georgina; speak! Say you understand me!'
She nodded dumbly, then threw an anxious glance over her shoulder towards the door, and muttered, 'After the noise he made 'tis a wonder that the household is not already upon us.'
Roger too, had feared that the dead man's shouting would have brought guests and servants running; but as the early morning quiet of the house remained unbroken he said softly: 'I've a feeling now that God has granted us a respite. The walls of the house are thick and the rooms on either side of this unoccupied. Across the corridor lie only your clothes-closets; and. the servants would not yet be moving about this part of the house. Our worst danger is that old Barney may have seen him come upstairs, and followed. He may be listening outside the door, there.'
Georgina shook her head. 'Even were that so, he would allow himself to be cut in pieces rather than say aught hurtful to me. But, 'tis most unlikely. At this hour he will be tending to the fires.'
As her glance fell again upon her husband's body, fresh tears started to her eyes, and she exclaimed: 'Oh, poor Humphrey! To think that he was once a fine handsome fellow; see the ruin he has made of himself these past few years. And worse! To meet so sudden and terrible an end all through my wickedness.'
'Cease talking nonsense!' said Roger, with sudden brutality. He knew that at all costs he must prevent her from breaking down, and went on ruthlessly. ' 'Twas no fault of yours that excessive drink first coarsened all his appetites, then robbed him of the power to enjoy the wives of stable-hands, and the like, that he took for his mistresses. He condoned your infidelities and laughed at them until recent months, when the liquor began to affect his brain. His behaviour but five minutes since was that of a lunatic, and he is better dead. I've no regrets at having rid you of him.'
'Thou did'st not do so, Roger. 'Twas the scent-bottle I flung catching him on the temple that killed him.'
'Nay, 'twas my blow upon his heart. Had I not been half-crazed myself from seeing him strike you I should have remembered the type of life he led, and had the sense to pull my punch.'
'You seek to take the blame upon yourself. 'Tis like your chivalry; but, whatever the rights of it, I'll not allow you to say that the blow upon his head was also yours. I'd sooner be driven to Tyburn in a cart.'
'My brave Georgina,' he squeezed her hand as they stood up. 'Maintain that spirit for an hour or two and we will cheat the gallows yet. But all will depend on the first account given as to how he met his death. No jury could fail to be prejudiced against you from the outset if 'tis known that your husband came upon you
'Aye!' she agreed, passing her tongue over her dry lips. 'I'll not fail thee in a gamble that may mean the saving of both our lives. And thou art right that I must play this first scene of it out alone. Any other course would spell disaster. But what story shall I tell? How account for his unheralded arrival here at such a godless hour; his sudden attack, and the cut upon his head?'
'The last is simple, you can say that as he fell he struck his head on the corner post of the bed. As for his stroke, that might have been brought on from his riding twenty-five miles at topmost speed. Such an arduous feat demands considerable fitness. 'Twould prove a far greater strain than riding in a single race or the hunting to which
