I Say No

'Do you think you can put me off,' he rejoined sternly, 'with such an excuse as that? What did Miss de Sor ask you to tell her? You promised to trust me. Be as good as your word.'

In the days of her health and strength, she would have set him at defiance. All she could do now was to appeal to his mercy.

'Make some allowance for me,' she said. 'I have been terribly upset. What has become of my courage? What has broken me down in this way? Spare me, sir.'

He refused to listen. 'This vile attempt to practice on your fears may be repeated,' he reminded her. 'More cruel advantage may be taken of the nervous derangement from which you are suffering in the climate of this place. You little know me, if you think I will allow that to go on.'

She made a last effort to plead with him. 'Oh sir, is this behaving like the good kind man I thought you were? You say you are Miss Emily's friend? Don't press me—for Miss Emily's sake!'

'Emily!' Alban exclaimed. 'Is she concerned in this?'

There was a change to tenderness in his voice, which persuaded Mrs. Ellmother that she had found her way to the weak side of him. Her one effort now was to strengthen the impression which she believed herself to have produced. 'Miss Emily is concerned in it,' she confessed.

'In what way?'

'Never mind in what way.'

'But I do mind.'

'I tell you, sir, Miss Emily must never know it to her dying day!'

The first suspicion of the truth crossed Alban's mind.

'I understand you at last,' he said. 'What Miss Emily must never know—is what Miss de Sor wanted you to tell her. Oh, it's useless to contradict me! Her motive in trying to frighten you is as plain to me now as if she had confessed it. Are you sure you didn't betray yourself, when she showed the image of wax?'

'I should have died first!' The reply had hardly escaped her before she regretted it. 'What makes you want to be so sure about it?' she said. 'It looks as if you knew—'

'I do know.'

'What!'

The kindest thing that he could do now was to speak out. 'Your secret is no secret to me,' he said.

Rage and fear shook her together. For the moment she was like the Mrs. Ellmother of former days. 'You lie!' she cried.

'I speak the truth.'

'I won't believe you! I daren't believe you!'

'Listen to me. In Emily's interests, listen to me. I have read of the murder at Zeeland—'

'That's nothing! The man was a namesake of her father.'

'The man was her father himself. Keep your seat! There is nothing to be alarmed about. I know that Emily is ignorant of the horrid death that her father died. I know that you and your late mistress have kept the discovery from her to this day. I know the love and pity which plead your excuse for deceiving her, and the circumstances that favored the deception. My good creature, Emily's peace of mind is as sacred to me as it is to you! I love her as I love my own life—and better. Are you calmer, now?'

He heard her crying: it was the best relief that could come to her. After waiting a while to let the tears have their way, he helped her to rise. There was no more to be said now. The one thing to do was to take her back to the house.

'I can give you a word of advice,' he said, 'before we part for the night. You must leave Miss de Sor's service at once. Your health will be a sufficient excuse. Give her warning immediately.'

Mrs. Ellmother hung back, when he offered her his arm. The bare prospect of seeing Francine again was revolting to her. On Alban's assurance that the notice to leave could be given in writing, she made no further resistance. The village clock struck eleven as they ascended the terrace steps.

A minute later, another person left the grounds by the path which led to the house. Alban's precaution had been taken too late. The smell of tobacco-smoke had guided Francine, when she was at a loss which way to turn next in search of Mrs. Ellmother. For the last quarter of an hour she had been listening, hidden among the trees.

CHAPTER XXXVI. CHANGE OF AIR.

The inmates of Netherwoods rose early, and went to bed early. When Alban and Mrs. Ellmother arrived at the back door of the house, they found it locked.

The only light visible, along the whole length of the building, glimmered through the Venetian blind of the window-entrance to Francine's sitting-room. Alban proposed to get admission to the house by that way. In her horror of again encountering Francine, Mrs. Ellmother positively refused to follow him when he turned away from the door. 'They can't be all asleep yet,' she said—and rang the bell.

One person was still out of bed—and that person was the mistress of the house. They recognized her voice in the customary question: 'Who's there?' The door having been opened, good Miss Ladd looked backward and forward between Alban and Mrs. Ellmother, with the bewildered air of a lady who doubted the evidence of her own eyes. The next moment, her sense of humor overpowered her. She burst out laughing.

'Close the door, Mr. Morris,' she said, 'and be so good as to tell me what this means. Have you been giving a lesson in drawing by starlight?'