Darkness was falling, and Jim, whose heart was in his boots, was beginning to feel cold in spite of the mildness of the day, when Smiley-face made his appearance, touching his forelock ingratiatingly. “I been a long time, sir,” he explained, “but you know what that there Ted Barnes is. Slow to talk and wanting a power of persuading. But I got the address from ’im: ’ere it is, wrote on this paper.”
He handed Jim a slip of paper, upon which the address of a Kensington hotel was written. He was grinning triumphantly, as though he had performed some great service for his friend.
“Good lad,” said Jim. “That’s very smart of you. I say, Smiley: I’ve had the deuce of a time while you were in the village. I met my wife!”
The poacher smiled from ear to ear. “O Lordee!” he chuckled. “I reckon that ’ud give her a bit of a turn, like.”
Jim told him something of what had occurred, but Smiley’s attitude of frank amusement caused him to cut the story short; and it was not long before he brought the interview to an end.
As they shook hands at the edge of the wood, Smiley suddenly paused and raised his finger. “Did you hear anything?” he asked.
“No,” said Jim, after listening for a few moments.
[241]
“Thought I heard a step,” the poacher went on. “There’s a heap o’ tramps about these days. I seen ’em in the woods sometimes, but I don’t allow no one to poach there except me....”
He was in a loquacious mood, and Jim found it necessary to make a resolute interruption of the flow of his words by shaking him warmly by the hand once more and setting off down the dark lane in the direction of Oxford.
He reached London, somewhat dazed, in time for dinner, and by nine o’clock he was driving out to Kensington to pay a visit to Mrs. Darling. Now that Dolly knew that he was alive, it would be as well for him to enlist the services of her mother as soon as possible. He could, perhaps, make it worth her while to aid him in regard to the divorce.
Upon arriving at the small private hotel where she was staying he was shown into an unoccupied sitting-room.
“What name, sir?” asked the page.
“Mr. Tundering-West,” said Jim, apprehensive of the jolt the announcement would cause, but feeling that since a shock could not be avoided, it would be better for her to receive it before she entered the room.
He had not long to wait: after a few minutes of uncomfortable fiddling with his hat, Mrs. Darling suddenly bounced in, as though she had been kicked from behind. Then, with astonished eyes fixed on Jim, she shut the door and stood staring at him in complete silence.
“Yes,” he said, nervously smiling, “it’s me, Mrs. Darling!”
[242]
“Good gracious!” she gasped. “Jim! You—you—you lunatic! What on earth are you doing in the land of the living? You’re supposed to be dead and buried.”
“No, not buried,” he corrected her. “I was knifed, you remember, and dropped into the sea.”
She passed her hand across her forehead. “You mean you swam back home?” Her voice was awed.
“Something like that,” he laughed. “Anyway, here I am; and I’ve come to you to ask what I’m to do next. I’ve just had a talk with Dolly.”
Mrs. Darling threw up her hands, and therewith she set about his cross-examination, asking him a number of questions in regard to his life, and receiving a number of evasive replies. “My good man,” she said at length, “do you realize that Dolly is an established widow, on the look out, in fact, for another husband? Do you realize that we’ve had a solemn memorial service for you, and put a tablet up in the church?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it,” he answered. “It made me blush for shame.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” she said. “You may well be ashamed that you have fallen so far short of the virtues attributed to you. I always think it is such a wonderful thing in nature that the only creatures who can blush are the only creatures who have occasion to.”
Considering that it was her daughter’s future which was at stake, Mrs. Darling seemed to Jim to be treating matters very lightly.
“Do you realize,” she went on, her voice rising, “that your will has been read, and Dolly owns every[243] penny you had, and gives me three hundred pounds a year allowance?”
“Only three hundred?” he remarked. “That’s mean. I’ll give you four.”
“It’s not yours to give,” she answered. “You’re dead—dead as mutton. You can’t play fast and loose with death like that, you know. When you’re murdered, you’re murdered, and there’s an end of it. It would make things absolutely impossible if people could go popping in and out of their graves like you are doing. Surely you can see that. What did Dolly say?”
“Oh, she was very upset,” he told her. “She stormed at me and called me every name under the sun; said she had always hated me; told me she was going to marry George Merrivall.”
“Well, what else did you expect? She says you ill-treated her horribly.”
“That’s a lie,” said Jim, sharply.
“Yes, so I told her,” Mrs. Darling replied. “I know you. You’re perfectly mad, but I always felt you were very decent to Dolly, considering what a little fraud she is.”
“Anyhow, I don’t mind her saying I ill-treated her,” he added, “if that’s any use for the purpose of our divorce.”
“Divorce?” cried Mrs. Darling. “Do you want her to divorce you? What for?”
“So that I can be quit of her, and marry again if I find the right woman.”
Mrs. Darling held up her hands. “What sublime courage! But you mustn’t let marriage become a habit, for the divorce courts are very slow, you know.[244] I have a woman friend who is already three marriages ahead of her divorces. I should have thought that a man like you, who is something of a philosopher and thinker, would now shun marriage like the plague. But I suppose even the cleverest men.... There is the famous case of Socrates, who died of an overdose of wedlock.”
“Hemlock,” he corrected her.
“Ah, yes, to be sure. Perhaps it is simply your youth: you still look very young, in spite of your recent death. I remember, in the days before my bright future had resolved itself into a shady past, I, too, was an optimist about marriage. But I was soon cured. So long as he liked me, my husband was so terribly jealous of me. It was quite intolerable. He would not even let my eyes wander from him. Why, I remember once turning my head away from him for a moment because I had hiccups, and being instantly cured by his seizing my throat in a consequent fit of passion.... Were you ever jealous of Dolly?”
“No,” said Jim; “and this afternoon I saw her making love to George Merrivall without any feeling except annoyance with myself for ever having believed in her.”
“Poor Dolly,” sighed her mother. “I am devoted to her, as you know; but I do realize her faults, and I know what you had to put up with.”
For some time they discussed the possibilities of divorce, and Mrs. Darling was frankly business-like in regard to the financial side of the affair.
“Of course,” she said, “it is very hard to do business with you, my dear Jim, because you are an[245] honest man. I prefer dealing with crooks. It is so simple, because you always know that at some stage of the game they are going to try to trip you up. But with honest men, you never know what they’ll do next.”
The upshot of their conversation was an understanding that Mrs. Darling should go down next day to Eversfield and win her daughter over to the idea of divorce; and, this being arranged, he rose to go.
“Good-bye,” he said, warmly shaking her h............