The Mystery of the Ravenspurs Read online

  CHAPTER XIX

  VERA IS NOT PLEASED

  Any stranger looking along the terrace at Ravenspur would have beeninclined to envy the lot of those who had their habitation there. Itlooked so grand, so dignified, so peaceful. Brilliant sunshine shoneupon the terrace; against the grey stone of the grand old fa?ade, theemerald green of the lawns rose refreshing to the eyes, those old lawnslike velvet that only come with the passing of centuries.

  People from the rush and fret of cities, excursionists, who had theirsordid, humdrum life in towns, turned longing eyes to Ravenspur. Anybodywho lived in a place like that must be happy.

  And some of them looked it. Geoffrey, for instance, as he lounged on theterrace with a cigarette between his strong white teeth. He was seatedwith a cap over his eyes and appeared to be given over to a pleasantreverie. A rod and an empty fishing basket stood by his side.

  Ralph Ravenspur lounged up to him. Perhaps he had been waiting for hisnephew. At any rate, he always knew where to find him. He sat with thesunshine full upon his sightless eyes and smoked his pipe placidly.

  "There is nobody about?" he asked.

  "Nobody," Geoffrey replied. "Do you want to say anything to me?"

  Ralph made no reply. Geoffrey watched him curiously.

  "Do you know you seem to be a long way off to me this afternoon?" hesaid presently. "I can't quite explain my meaning. Since you have wornthose glasses you look a different man. There, now you are yourselfagain."

  Ralph had taken off the glasses for a moment.

  "Is the difference very marked?" Ralph asked.

  "Very marked, indeed. Honestly, I should not have known you."

  Ralph gave a sigh, whether of sorrow or satisfaction Geoffrey could notsay.

  "Time will prove whether the disguise is of any value or not," he said."I came to ask you about this evening. Are you going?"

  "Of course I am. Mrs. Mona May fascinates me. On the whole, I havedeemed it advisable to say nothing to the others. We cannot call uponMrs. May and they need not know that I have had any intercourse withher."

  Ralph nodded. Perhaps he alone knew the real need for secrecy in thismatter.

  "Quite right," he said. "The less said the better. She wrote to you, ofcourse?"

  "Oh, yes. I had the letter yesterday."

  "And destroyed it, of course?"

  "Upon my word, I've forgotten. I see you are angry with me. Well, I willtry not to make a similar mistake again."

  From the expression of his face Ralph was greatly moved. His featuresflamed with anger, he was trembling with passion to his finger-tips.Then his mood suddenly changed. He laid a kindly hand on Geoffrey'sknee.

  "My boy," he said, earnestly. "There are reasons, weighty reasons why Icannot take you entirely into my confidence. If I did so, you would seethe vital necessity of caution even in the most minute matters. You willsee that Mrs. May's letter is destroyed at once."

  "I will, uncle. The rest of the family believe I am going to Altonto-night."

  Ralph nodded. He seemed already to have forgotten the circumstances. Hehad fallen into one of those waking reveries that were deep as sleep tomost men. Geoffrey spoke to him more than once, but failed to gain theslightest attention. Then Ralph rose and moved away like a man in adream.

  Geoffrey lounged about till he had finished his cigarette. He tossed theend away and then proceeded towards the house. He would get that letterand destroy it without further delay. But this was easier said thandone, for the simple reason that the letter was nowhere to be found.High and low Geoffrey searched for it, but all to no purpose.

  Had he left it in the dining-room or the library? Possibly in the latterplace, seeing that he had written a couple of notes there earlier in theday. It was dim, not to say gloomy in the library, and for a momentGeoffrey failed to see that Vera was seated at the table.

  He crossed over and touched her caressingly on the cheek. She looked upcoldly.

  "What are you looking for?" she asked.

  "A letter, dearest," Geoffrey replied. "But why do you look sostrange----"

  "Oh, you ask me that! It is a letter you are looking for. Then perhaps Imay be so fortunate as to assist you. I have just found a letter lyinghere addressed to you. As it lay with face open I could not but read it.See here!"

  A square of thick scented notepaper filled with a dashing blackcaligraphy shook before Geoffrey's eyes. It was Mrs. May's writingbeyond a doubt. Geoffrey flushed slightly as he took the note.

  "Read it," Vera said quietly, "read it aloud."

  Geoffrey did so. It struck him now--it had never occurred to himbefore--that the writer was slightly caressing in her manner ofphrasing. There was a suggestion of something warmer and more personalthan the stereotyped lines implied.

  "So this is the Alton where you are going to-night?" Vera went on. "Whois the woman? How long have you known her?"

  The quick blood came flaming to Geoffrey's face. He had never seen Verahard and cold like this before. It was a woman and not a girl who wasspeaking now. Geoffrey resented the questions; they came as a teacheraddresses a child.

  "I cannot tell you," he said. "It has to do with the family secret."

  "And you expect me to believe this, Geoffrey?"

  "Of course I do," Geoffrey cried. "Did you ever know me tell you a lie?And, after all the years we have been together, you are going to bejealous of the first woman who comes along! Have I been mistaken in you,Vera?"

  The girl's beautiful eyes filled with tears. She had been sorely vexedand hurt, far more hurt than she cared Geoffrey to know. For it seemedto her that he had wilfully deceived her, that he was going to see thiscreature of whom he was secretly ashamed, that he had lied so that hecould seek her company without suspicion in the minds of others.

  "If you give me your word of honor," Vera faltered, "that you----"

  "No, no," Geoffrey cried. "I merely state the facts and you may believethem or not as you please. Who Mrs. May is I decline to say. How Ibecame, acquainted with her I also decline to explain. Suffice it thatshe is Mrs. May, and that she has rooms at Jessop's farm."

  "And that is all you are going to tell me, Geoffrey?"

  "Yes, Vera. If you have lost faith in me----"

  "Oh, no, no! Don't say such cruel things, Geoff. Whom have I beyond myparents and you in the whole world! And when I found that letter, when Iknew what you said about Alton was--was not true----"

  She paused unable to proceed. Her little hands went out imploringly andGeoffrey caught them in his own. He drew her to his side and gazed intoher eyes.

  "Darling," he whispered, "you know that I love you?"

  "Yes, dear, it was foolish of me to doubt it."

  "I love you now and always. I can never change. I did not intend totell you about this woman because it was all part of the secret. Thewise man among us has said it, and his word is law. I am speaking ofUncle Ralph."

  Vera nodded with a brighter glance. Had not she a secret in common withRalph?

  "Say no more," she whispered. "I am ashamed of myself."

  Geoffrey kissed the quivering red lips passionately.

  "Spoken like my own, Vera," he said. "Now I will give you my word ofhonor----"

  "No, no. It is not necessary, Geoff. I was foolish. I might have knownbetter. Not another thought will I give to Mrs. Mona May."

  Vera spoke in all sincerity. But our thoughts are often our masters andthey were so in this case. Mona May was a name graven on Vera's mind,and the time was coming when with fervent gratitude she blessed the hourwhen she had found that letter.