IT was now a serious matter of thought to me how I could take Marjory into proper confidence, without spoiling things and betraying Adams’s confidence. As I pondered, the conviction grew upon me that I had better be quite frank with her and ask her advice. Accordingly when I saw her at Crom at noon I entered on the matter, though I confess with trepidation. When I told her I wanted to ask her advice she was all attention. I felt particularly nervous as I began: “Marjory, when a man is in a hole he ought to consult his best friend; oughtn’t he?”
“Why certainly!”
“And you are my best friend; are you not?”
“I hope so! I should certainly like to be.”
“Well, look here, dear, I am in such a tangle that I can’t find a way out, and I want you to help me.” She must have guessed at something like the cause of my difficulty, for a faint smile passed over her face as she said:
“The old trouble? Sam Adams’s diplomacy, eh?”
“It is this. I want to know how you think I should act so as to give least pain to a very dear friend of mine, and at the same time do a very imperative duty. You may see a way out that I don’t.”
“Drive on dear; I’m listening.”
“Since we met I have had some very disturbing information from a source which I am not at liberty to[201] mention. I can tell you all about this, though you must not ask me how I know it. But first there is something else. I believe, though I do not know for certain, that your secret is blown; that the detectives have discovered where you live.” She sat up at once.
“What!” I went on quickly:
“And I am sorry to say that if it is discovered it has been through me; though not by any act or indeed by any fault of mine.” She laid her hand on mine and said reassuringly:
“If you are in it, I can look at it differently. May I ask how you came into that gallery?”
“Certainly! I am not pledged as to this. It was by the most simple and transparent of means. You and I were seen together. They did not know where to look for you or follow you up, when they had lost the scent; but they knew me and watched me. Voila!”
“That’s simple enough anyhow!” was her only comment. After a while she asked:
“Do you know how far they have got in their search?”
“I do not; I only know that they expected to find where you lived two days ago. I suppose they have found it out by this.”
“Sam Adams is getting too clever. They will be making him President, or Alderman or something, if he doesn’t look out. But do you know yet why all this trouble is being taken about me.”
“I can tell you,” I answered “but you must not tell any one, for it would not do for the sake of others if it got about. There is a plan got up by a gang of blackmailers to kidnap you for a ransom.” She jumped up with excitement and began to clap her hands.
“Oh, that is too delicious!” she said. “Tell me all you know of it. We may be able to lead them on a bit. It will be an awful lark!” I could not possibly share[202] her mirth; the matter was really too grave. She saw my feeling in my face and stopped. She thought for a minute or two with her brows wrinkled and then she said:
“Are you really serious, Archie, as to any danger in the matter?”
“My dear, there is always danger in a conspiracy of base men. We have to fear, for we don’t know the power or numbers of the conspiracy. We have no idea of their method of working, or where or how we may expect attack. The whole thing is a mystery to us. Doubtless it will only come from one point; but we must be ready to repel, all round the compass.”
“But, look here, it is only danger.”
“The danger is to you; if it were to me, I think I could laugh myself. But, my darling, remember that it is out of my love for you that my fear comes. If you were nothing to me, I could, I suppose, bear it easily enough. You have taken new responsibilities on you, Marjory, since you let a man love you. His heart is before you to walk on; so you have to tread carefully.”
“I can avoid treading on it, can’t I?” she said falling into the vein of metaphor. “Surely, if there is anything in the world that by instinct I could know is in danger, it would be your heart!”
“Ah, my dear, it does not stay still. It will keep rolling along with you wherever you go; hopping back and forward and sideways in every conceivable way. You must now and again tread on it for all your care; in the dark or in the light.”
“I had no idea,” she said “that I had taken such a responsibility on my shoulders when I said I would marry you.”
“It is not the marrying” I said “but the loving that makes the trouble!”
[203]
“I see!” she replied and was silent for a while. Then she turned to me and said very sweetly:
“Anyhow Archie, whatever we may settle about what we are to do, I am glad you came to consult me and to tell me frankly of your trouble. Do this always, my dear. It will be best for you, and best for me too, to feel that you trust me. You have given me a pleasure to-day that is beyond words.”
Then we spoke of other things, and we agreed to wait till the next day before arranging any fixed plan of action. Before I went away, and whilst the sentiment of parting was still on her, s............