Robert, you are a veritable magician. I deliver myself absolutely into your hands.”
The whole thing was done at length, and Cleave stood before the long looking-glass trying to identify his own features. The scraggy beard was gone; the change from rags to purple and fine linen had made a wonderful difference to the man. He held his head higher and felt on more equal terms with the world. The touch of the soft silken underclothing gave him a certain sense of power. Robert stood at his elbow holding out a gold-mounted cigarette case; he struck a match subserviently.
“Oh, yes,” Cleave said, “I will not disguise to you, my good Robert, that I have not smoked a cigarette of this quality for the past three years. This is excellent. It brings back recollections of my gilded past. Now let us proceed with the adventure. What is the next stage of the programme?”
“Supper, sir,” Robert said practically. “Will you be good enough to follow me to the dining-room? My employer will be here presently and then my task is finished. If there is anything you require, perhaps you will be good enough to ring the bell, sir. I shall not be far off.”
Feeling as if all the world were at his feet, Cleave strolled into the dining-room. A day or two before he had been glad enough to eat the most indifferent food. Now his critical eye noted with approval the daintily-arranged supper table. Everything was cold, as if the owner of the flat had intended that the meal should be partaken of without the presence of servants. There were gold-foiled bottles on the sideboard, and a tempting array of ruby-filled decanters on the flower-decked table. Without hesitation. Cleave poured himself out a large glass of claret and drank it with gusto. The generous wine glowed in his veins.
“Chateau Lafitte,” he said. “Oh, how the taste brings back memories of the dear dead past! I wonder what it all means. I wonder who the philanthropist is who has arranged this delightful little comedy for my delectation? But possess your soul in patience, Jasper, you will know before very long.”
The words were hardly uttered before the door opened and a tall, dark woman swept into the room. There was a pleased smile of welcome on her face, and she extended both hands in the heartiest possible fashion to her visitor.
“This is an unexpected meeting, Jasper,” she said.
“Eleanor Marsh,” Cleave cried. “Eleanor Marsh, as I am alive. Sit down at once and tell me what all this means.”
VI. — THE COMPACT
THE woman crossed the room and pulled down the blinds. Then she returned to the supper table, having first satisfied herself that the door was closed. Cleave watched her in a hazy kind of way, as if he still doubted the evidence of his senses. He had been practically without food all day and was utterly worn out and exhausted. Moreover, the fumes of the generous wine were still clouding his brain. He had to pinch himself to be sure that the whole thing was not a figment of imagination. He would not have been surprised if the glorious dark vision in the amber dress had taken wings and flown. But there she sat on the other side of the little round table, her dark liquid eyes smiling into his.
“You must not talk yet,” she said. “Let me do the talking. When you have sufficiently recovered your mental balance we shall be able to discuss the plan of campaign.”
“But what does it all mean?” Cleave asked. “Whence all this splendour? When I last saw you you were in a tobacconist’s shop. Mind you, Nell, I always said you would get on, always prophesied that you would do something for yourself in the world, and you have progressed a little farther than I expected. A good marriage, I suppose—”
The woman laughed in a light-hearted fashion. She was looking after Cleave’s creature comforts; he was trying to eat now as if he were accustomed to this kind of thing. He fought against his wolfish appetite.
“There is no husband,” Eleanor Marsh said. “In fact, there never has been. I still retain my own name; sudden changes of that kind would have been awkward sometimes. Behold in me, my dear Jasper, Mrs. Eleanor Marsh, the widow of a deceased Virginian gentleman of good family and fairly good means. That is the role that I have played more or less successfully for the past two years. It is astonishing what a little impudence, allied to a fair amount of ability, can do in this so-called Society of yours. Behold me now, fresh from the reception of a duchess; but I have even been under the same roof as Royalty. But all this is by the way, Jasper. Everything that glitters is not gold, and you must take all you see about you at its face value. I make a certain amount of money by my pen, but not nearly enough to keep myself in circumstances like these. I have been unlucky lately, too, and my available war-chest at present contains less than a thousand pounds. Still, I have a great scheme on hand, and in that scheme I shall require your assistance.
If the scheme is a success there are five hundred pounds for you. I do not flatter you by supposing that you are over-scrupulous, being quite certain—”
“Oh, don’t let’s worry about my scruples,” Cleave said impatiently. “I am a desperate man, ready for anything. When your servant found me to-night I was starving. I am entirely in your hands and will do anything you please. What would I not do for five hundred pounds? But, tell me, how did your man find me to-night?”
“Well, that is simplicity itself. Quite by accident I learnt that you were coming home; I also found out what boat you were travelling by. My discreet and faithful Robert would have met you at the Docks only he was unfortunate enough to get his cab stopped in a block and thus lose sight of you. But Robert is a veritable sleuth-hound, and has his own way of doing things—but what does it matter? You are here and you are ready to fall in with my wishes.”
“You are a wonderful woman,” Cleave said with deep admiration. “I always said that you were born for great things, but how did you manage about this wardrobe of mine? Positively, I might be sitting here in my own garments.”
“So you are,” the woman laughed. “I suppose you have been away too long to have noticed that your dress-suit is not quite abreast of present fashion. Don’t you remember when you left England suddenly, everything behind you was abandoned? You were very extravagant in clothes in those days, my dear Jasper, and you left behind enough for a score of men. To make a long story short, when I heard you were coming home, I went down to your old rooms and found that your landlord had stowed your boxes and cases away in the faint hope that you might some day return and recover them. Twenty pounds did the rest, and there you are. Now is there any other information that I can give you?”
Cleave repeated his remark that his companion was a wonderful woman. He had satisfied his hunger now; he was soothing his nerves with those exquisite cigarettes; a full glass of wine stood by his elbow. On the whole, the world was not so bad a place as he had thought. It was a wonderful change, too, for a man who an hour before had been a starving outcast and wanderer.
Cleave’s wits were sharpened now; he noticed a brilliant red spot burning on the cheeks of his companion. He leant towards her confidently and touched her arm. She looked up with a significant smile upon her lips.
I know what you are thinking,” she said.
You are wondering why it is I do not come to the point. I want you to cast back your mind some four or five years. In those days, you will remember, I was little more than a child living in the village where you were born. In fact, where we were both born. I little thought in those days that I should come to be on such terms of intimate friendship with the most important man in the parish.”
“Never
