The Dust of Conflict Read online

  III -- TONY CANNOT DECIDE

  THE beat of hoofs died away, and Tony shivered as he strove to collecthis scattered wits. He wanted to think, but mental effort had alwaysbeen distasteful to his easy-going nature, and now the faculty ofconcentration had deserted him. It was also very cold out on theterrace, for the raw wind was driving a thin drizzle before it, and Tonywas fond of warmth and light, so with a little shake of his shoulders hewent back into the house, and sought inspiration in a stiff brandy-and-soda. After that he felt a little more cheerful, and decided that in themeanwhile there was nothing to be done but refrain from unnecessaryworry and wait events, which was the usual course with him. There was,it seemed, nothing to be gained by involving himself before suspicionwas cast upon his friend.

  He, however, spent an unpleasant five minutes with his uncle, who askeda few general questions respecting the affair, in the library, and thenwent down to dinner, where Violet Wayne did not find him a veryentertaining companion. She, however, noticed that he allowed his glassto be filled more frequently than usual, for Tony was an abstemious man,and during a lull in the conversation turned to him.

  "I have spoken to you at least three times without getting an answer,Tony," she said. "One could almost fancy that you had something on yourmind to-night."

  Tony did not meet the questioning gaze of the big grave eyes, thoughthere was a sympathetic gleam in them. "I have a headache. Gun headache,you know," he said. "I got a warm corner, and fired every cartridge Ihad. I had them specially loaded with an extra quarter-ounce, too."

  Violet Wayne appeared thoughtful, for she had heard the other mengrumbling at the scarcity of pheasants that afternoon; but she was awise young woman, and did not tell Tony so.

  "What has become of Mr. Appleby?" she asked.

  "Gone away," said Tony. "He left just after we came in."

  Again Violet Wayne glanced at him with grave quietness, but Tony waslooking at his plate just then.

  "His train does not leave for an hour yet," she said.

  Violet Wayne did not often speak without reflection, but she blunderedthen. Tony Palliser was not the man to boldly choose his path, butrather addicted to follow the one events seemed to force him into, andshe who might have proved his good angel helped to start him down hill.

  "He was going to Liverpool," he said, and a moment later regretted it.

  "To Liverpool! What has taken him there? He told me he was going back tohis office."

  Tony looked round in search of inspiration, and did not find it. It wasalso a somewhat fateful moment for him, because he had as yet beenguilty of nothing more than a passing indiscretion, which the womanwould have forgiven him. Had he decided to take her into his confidenceshe would have believed his story, and she had sufficient strength ofcharacter to carry him with clean hands through the difficulty. As ithappened, however, he was not looking at her, and saw only the glitterof light on glass and silver and the faces of his friends. Tony was asfond of pleasant company as he was of luxury, and what he saw remindedhim that he had a good deal to lose. That put him on his guard, and hetook the first fateful step in haste, without realizing where it wouldlead him.

  "I don't quite know," he said; "Bernard isn't communicative. He asked mefor the dog-cart, and I didn't worry him."

  Violet Wayne deferred her questions, though she was not satisfied. Shehad her duty to her hostess, and because news of what had happened hadgot about felt it incumbent on her to do what she could to lessen thevague constraint, especially as Tony, who wanted to think and could not,did nothing whatever. He was glad when the meal was over, but afterwardsappeared to even less advantage in the billiard room, where one of themen commented on his play.

  "You are showing remarkably bad form, Tony," he said. "What is thematter with you? In your case it can't be worry, because there isnothing a man could wish for you apparently haven't got."

  Tony did worse at the next stroke, and put down his cue. "It's a factthat I can't play to-night," he said. "You were not with us at thebridge, and it wasn't a nice thing we had to do. As to the other remark,I suppose I've got my worries like the rest of you; but since you willget on just as well without me I think I'll go to bed."

  He went out, and the man who had spoken laughed. "That is just the onething that is wrong with Tony--he gives up too easily and doesn't playthe game out when it seems to be going against him," he said. "He hadBernard Appleby to help him through at school, but I have a notion thatMiss Wayne would do as much for him now if he would let her, and if he'swise he will. Men like Tony generally find somebody to stand behindthem, but that slackness is the only fault anybody could find in him.Tony never did a crooked thing."

  "No," said another man dryly. "Still, it is comparatively easy to gostraight when you are never called upon to stand up under a deflectingpressure."

  "If Tony hasn't had to do that yet, he will most certainly have tosooner or later, and Miss Wayne is the woman to help him," said hiscompanion. "Will you take his cue and finish the fifty for him,Lonsdale? It is, you see, quite the usual thing."

  Tony in the meanwhile sat staring at the grate in his room. No definitecourse had yet occurred to him, but he was conscious of a vague relief.Davidson, at least, could not come back to trouble him, and Tony knewthat his daughter, whom he had done no wrong, did not possess herfather's pertinacity. He fancied she could be easily dealt with, andrising with a little shake of his shoulders he went to bed, and, as ithappened, slept almost as well as usual. Next day, however, eventscommenced to happen, for during the morning Godfrey Palliser received avisit from a sergeant of police. Soon afterwards he sent for Tony, andit was with distinct uneasiness the latter entered the library.

  Godfrey Palliser sat, gray-haired and somewhat grim of face, beside thefire; and he was a punctilious English gentleman with a respect forconventional traditions and no great penetration, to whom Tony owed hispresent status and all he hoped for in the future. He had led a simple,wholesome life, and though it was perhaps not unwarranted, placed anundue value upon the respect his tenants and neighbors accorded him.

  "This is an especially unfortunate affair," he said. "Sit down. I wantto talk to you."

  "Yes, sir," said Tony, wondering what was coming.

  Godfrey Palliser drummed on the chair arm with his fingers. "There willbe an inquest, and as I am, most unfortunately in this case, amagistrate, Sergeant Stitt thought it fit to consult with me. He hassuspicions that there has been foul play."

  "Stitt is a meddlesome idiot," said Tony. "It seemed quite evident to methat Davidson struck his head when he fell off the bridge."

  The elder man made a gesture of negation. "Unfortunately he left his gunbehind him. There was a dent on one barrel, and Stitt fancied that thegrass round the spot where he found it had been trampled. That, and thecondition of Davidson's clothing, points to a scuffle."

  Tony gasped, for he had not expected this. "There is not a man in theneighborhood who would have injured Davidson," he said.

  Godfrey Palliser flashed a quick glance at him. "Do you know whenBernard left the hall the night before it happened?"

  Tony braced himself with an effort. "I don't quite remember, sir."

  "Then I can tell you. It was a few minutes after eleven, and he took thepath to the footbridge. When he came back his clothes were muddy."

  Tony sat still a moment, horribly conscious that Godfrey Palliser waswatching him. Then he broke out: "It's wholly impossible, sir,unutterably absurd! Nobody would kill a man without the least motive."

  Godfrey Palliser's face grew a trifle grimmer. "There may have been amotive. Lucy Davidson was pretty, and, I understand, vain and flighty,while she disappeared, I think, a little too suddenly. You will rememberwhen Bernard was last here."

  Tony stood up, with a dampness on his face and his hands trembling."Good Lord, sir, you can't believe that!" he said. "Bernard never hadany failings of the kind. It must"--and Tony gasped and stared round theroom--"have been poachers. You will remember Evans said Davids
on had goneout to look for somebody who had been laying snares."

  To his vast relief he saw that Palliser clutched at the suggestion. Itwould perhaps not have appeared very conclusive to another man, butPalliser was anxious as well as willing to be convinced, which makes adifference.

  "Yes," he said. "That is the most sensible thing you have said for along while, and I sincerely hope events will prove you right. I amgetting an old man, and if a connection of the family and a guest in myhouse had been guilty of such an intrigue and crime, I think I couldscarcely have held up my head again. No breath of scandal has touchedour name, and I could not forgive the man who brought a shadow of ill-repute upon it."

  The speech had its effect, for Tony was aware that he had nothing toexpect if he forfeited Godfrey Palliser's good opinion. He also quiterealized the fact that he was singularly devoid of the qualitiesessential to the man who finds it necessary to make his own way in theworld, and very much in love with Violet Wayne. These considerationsmade for silence. Tony, however, did not discover until later that thenext person Palliser sent for was the girl. It was with reluctance hedid so, and he stood up leaning against the mantel when he had drawn herout a chair.

  "I understand that you saw Bernard Appleby immediately before he leftthe house the night before last," he said.

  The girl appeared perplexed. "I do not know how you came to hear of it,but as a matter of fact I did," she said.

  "Then "--and Palliser made a little deprecatory gesture--"I feel sure,when I tell you that they are necessary, you will excuse me asking you aquestion or two. You met him in the corridor, I think with intent. Whathad he to say to you?"

  A little flush crept into the girl's face. "He asked me to give him tenpounds. This will no doubt astonish you!"

  It certainly did, and had Godfrey Palliser been a little lesspunctilious he might have betrayed it. As it was, he said in a perfectlylevel voice, "May I ask you for what purpose?"

  There was no hesitation about the answer, and as he met Violet Wayne'seyes the unpleasant thoughts which momentarily obtruded themselves uponthe man vanished again, and left him with a faint sense of shame.

  "I had asked him to do me a favor which would entail some littleexpenditure," she said. "It was, in fact, to do a kindness to somebody Iwanted to benefit, and could not have any bearing on your object inmaking this inquiry. I know you will take my word for that."

  Godfrey Palliser was not gifted with much penetration, but the girl'scomposure had its effect on him, and he made her a little respectfulinclination. "It would go a long way with me, my dear, even if thetestimony of my eyes were against it; and Tony never did a thing thatpleased me more than when he told me he had succeeded in inducing you tomarry him," he said. "It is quite evident that you can throw no light onthe affair."

  Violet Wayne left him, a little perplexed, but relieved. As he believedwhat she had told him implicitly, his thoughts fixed themselves uponTony's suggestion, and he commenced to sift what he had heard foranything that would confirm the poacher theory. He meant to do his dutyas a magistrate, but he had made a fetish of the family honor, and theman who knows exactly what he is looking for has the better chance offinding it. Accordingly he almost convinced himself, and proceeded toanother conference with Sergeant Stitt, who was a little more obtusethan superior.

  Violet Wayne was, however, not relieved at all. Only one hypothesissuggested itself to her, and that was that the unfortunate keeper hadhad some hold upon Appleby, but she promptly dismissed it as whollyuntenable. She felt convinced that the man who had been Tony's loyalfriend could have done nothing that he need blush for, and the fact thathe had been willing to take ten pounds from her was an additional proofof his innocence rather than evidence against it. She felt absolutelyconvinced that he would never have abused her confidence by asking herfor the money had he desired it for his own purposes. This conclusionnaturally led to the supposition that he had involved himself on Tony'sbehalf, but she would not harbor that thought for a moment; whileAppleby, whom she believed implicitly, had told her that Tony had donenothing wrong.

  Still, it was evident that Tony was in trouble, and as he did not goshooting with the rest she found him idling in an empty room when duskwas closing down. He was standing by the hearth looking down into theflickering flame; but the fashion in which he started when she gentlytouched his shoulder was significant.

  "You might have something upon your conscience, Tony," she said, with alittle smile. "Sit down and talk to me. I have scarcely seen you to-day."

  She sank into a low chair, and the uncertain firelight forced up herface and gleaming hair against the shadowy background. The pose, whollyunstudied as it was, also suited her, and she smiled as she saw theappreciation in the eyes of her companion. Tony's regard for her wasrespectfully deferential, but he was a man, and she did not disdain attimes to profit by the advantages nature had endowed her with.

  "I never saw you look better than you do just now," he said, and laughedas he found a place on the stool he placed at her feet.

  "Turn your head a little, Tony; I want to see you," the girl saidsoftly. "Now, what has made you so quiet today?"

  Tony looked at her, and the effect was unfortunate. He saw the calm eyesshining with unusual tenderness, and felt the full influence of herbeauty, even while he remembered that Appleby had said she would findout the story sooner or later and then it would be bad for him. He alsodetermined, foolishly, that if the revelation must come at all itshould, at least, be delayed as long as possible.

  "I have my little worries, but they vanish when you appear," he said.

  Violet Wayne shook her head. "That was pretty, but not quite sincere,"she said. "In some respects I am older than you--and you are in trouble,dear. Perhaps if you told me everything I could help you."

  Tony turned his head away, and checked a groan as he stared at the fire."I have been a little thoughtless, and one must pay for that kind ofthing," he said. "Still, it would be most unfitting to trouble you withmy trifling difficulties." He felt a little constraining touch on hisshoulder, and a low voice said, "Is it money? You must not be proud,dear, for I have plenty, and it could buy me no greater pleasure than tosee your cares melt away."

  Tony flushed a little. "That is out of the question, Violet, and youexaggerate," he said. "I haven't any real cares, you know."

  The girl smiled at him. "Only very good imitations, Tony; but perhapsyou are right. I should dearly like to give you whatever you have needof, but it would not please me to see you willing to take it. Still, whydid Appleby go out at eleven o'clock that night?"

  It was a chance shot, but it told, and had results Violet Wayne couldnot have anticipated. Tony started a little.

  "Why should you ask me?" he said.

  Violet Wayne was not as a rule demonstrative. Indeed, her behavior thatevening would have astonished those who thought they knew her best, butthe touch of her hand on the man's shoulder was caressing, and as sheleaned forward nearer him there was a curious softness in her eyes.

  "I want you to listen, Tony, and I am not going to find fault with you,"she said. "When you showed your preference for me people who I know arewise talked to me of you. They had very little to urge against youexcept one thing, which I think is true. They said you were a trifle toofond of shirking a difficulty."

  "I hope you thanked them for their kindness," said Tony dryly.

  The girl pressed his shoulder. "Tony," she said, "shall I tell you why Iliked you? Well, it was because I fancied the respect you showed me wasgenuine, and you were open and generous. That, at least, was one of thereasons, for I detest a cunning man. I am ready to give you everything,but I shall expect a good deal from you; and now you see why I am notpleased with your answer to my question."

  It was an unexpected opportunity, and, though the man aid not know this,the last he would have. The girl, as she had said, was willing to givehim all she had to offer, of which her faith in him was not the least,but he had not the courage to put it to the test. Ha
d he done so shewould have taken his word, and believed in it against all othertestimony; but the story he had to tell was not a pleasant one, and hedreaded her incredulity, in which he wronged her past forgiveness.Meanwhile, looking up at her he saw, not the love and strength whichwould have saved him from his weaknesses, but the calm, proud face whichwas tender, too, just then, the gleaming red-gold hair, and thebeautifully moulded form. In place of speaking he gazed at her a momentwith passion in his eyes.

  "I can never understand how you came to think of me at all," he said. "Iam not fit to dust your shoes; but if I lost you now I think it wouldkill me."

  The girl checked him with a little quiet gesture, and laid the hand sheraised from his shoulder on his forehead. "I like to hear you tell meso, but there are times when the man who is willing to lose everythinggains the most. I wonder if you understand that, Tony? There are men whodo."

  "No," said Tony in honest bewilderment, "I'm afraid I can't."

  "Still," said the girl softly, "it is true; but perhaps it isn't seemlythat I should preach to you. Am I to conclude that if any odium followsyour friend because he went out that night you could not dispel it?"

  This left a loophole, which was unfortunate, because the man reflectedthat he could offer no convincing testimony as to what had reallyhappened at the fir spinny.

  "No," he said a trifle hoarsely, "I could not."

  Violet Wayne looked at him steadily, and Tony, who saw the gravity inher eyes, felt his heart thumping furiously. Then she said very slowly:"Since you have given me your word we will never mention this again."

  Tony drew in his breath as he turned his head away. The crisis hadpassed, and he knew that Violet Wayne believed him; but a little shiverran through him, for he felt that he was committed to a course ofdeception now, and that if exposure came he could not face her scorn.She was a proud woman, who seldom unbent even to him as she had donethat evening, and his one impulse was to lead her thoughts as far fromthe question she had asked him as he conveniently could.

  "You hinted that you had met men who would give up everything for--afancy," he said. "Do I know them?"

  "You know one. I think Bernard Appleby would sacrifice a good deal for afriend--or a woman he respected."

  "He could not help it in your case. You could compel most men to doalmost anything for you."

  The girl shook her head. "Even if that is true it would not gratify memuch," she said. "It is only those nearest and dearest to me I expectthe most from, and that I am not worthy of it does not affect the case.Still, I think we have talked sufficiently in this strain."

  Tony rose and stooped over her chair, but the girl made a littlerestraining gesture, and he straightened himself again.

  "No," she said quietly. "Not now, Tony. We are strange creatures; but Ithink if you had made me a confession a little while ago I could haveforgiven you anything and kissed you afterwards."

  Tony said nothing, and a maid came in with a light; but he spent a veryunpleasant half-hour when Violet Wayne left him. Now it had slipped awayunprofited by, he saw what that opportunity would have meant for him.Tony was not clever, but he realized that fate does not give men suchchances frequently.