The Man Who Rose Again Part 57

"We all have business, haven't we? I am a partner in the Tripoli, Fezzan, Mourzouck Company."

John Castlemaine's eyes flashed with satisfaction. The stranger was no wandering, nameless adventurer. The Tripoli, Fezzan, Mourzouck Company was the great trading power of the East, doing not only great business in England, but throughout the world.

"I am not here as a representative of my firm, Signor Castlemaine," said Ricordo, "but I know the English customs." He took a small case from his pocket, and presented a card to him, and also papers which revealed the imprimatur of the company. Mr. Castlemaine also saw that the stamp of the firm was upon his letter-case.

"I feel honoured in welcoming you to our neighbourhood," said John Castlemaine. "Years ago I did business with you. I little thought then that I should meet with a partner in your famous firm under such circ.u.mstances."

"The world is small," said Ricordo quietly. "For the last year I have taken but little active part in affairs; and I have come to England because of personal matters."

"And I am delighted to see you, signore--delighted. More than that, I cannot consent for you to leave Vale Linden soon. I hope you will come up to my house, Signor Ricordo. I am now a man of leisure, and shall look forward to seeing much of you. Olive, do you know that the great company of which Signor Ricordo is a partner is well known to me? It is very fortunate you met him yesterday. Yes, signore, I can take no refusal. I must insist on your coming up to Vale Linden to-night, for a smoke and a chat."

For a moment there was a look almost like anxiety in the stranger's eyes, but he spoke in his quiet, easy way.

"I feel greatly honoured," he said; "but we in the East have many--what you call conventions. Before I enter into the delights of your house, I must prove that I am what my card indicates."

"Oh, nonsense, nonsense," said John Castlemaine heartily. "No one could carry such papers as you carry without----"

"Excuse me, Mr. Castlemaine, if I persist," said the stranger. "If not to satisfy you, to satisfy myself." He drew a small piece of peculiar parchment from his case, and handed it to John Castlemaine. "My people always desire it, when we come into contact with the heads of great houses," he added.

Mr. Castlemaine took the parchment almost reverently and read that Abdul Ricordo was a responsible partner of the firm of Tripoli, Fezzan and Mourzouck, and the doc.u.ment was signed by the firm.

"Of course I do not need this, signore," said John Castlemaine; "nevertheless, I thank you for letting me see this. It shows me the methods of your firm, and from that standpoint alone this doc.u.ment is exceedingly interesting."

He turned again to his daughter.

"Will you not help me to persuade Signor Ricordo to walk up to the house with us, Olive?" he said. "It is quite early yet, and, wonder of wonders, we have no guests at present."

Ricordo turned to Olive, who expressed her delight at the thought of his accompanying them.

"Then I can do no other than gratefully accept," said Ricordo; "but I am afraid I am monopolising your company, Signor Castlemaine."

He turned aside as he spoke, and made room for Purvis and Sprague, who had evidently been waiting for a chance to speak to them.

"I could not help making the most of the opportunity which you have afforded," said Sprague. "I am afraid The Homestead was not meant for such as Purvis and myself; but you will forgive me, won't you?"

There was marked restraint in John Castlemaine's welcome of the two men, still he greeted them civilly. Perhaps he had partly forgotten the part they took in the painful drama of years before. As for Olive, she was evidently undecided what to do. She ended, however, by speaking civilly to them both, but did not seem at all pleased that they should come and speak to her.

"I see you know my late opponent on the golf links," said Sprague, turning to Ricordo.

"We have met to-night for the first time," said Mr. Castlemaine, turning towards the stranger, and as he turned he saw a look in his eyes that made him feel uncomfortable. There was such a sinister expression on Ricordo's face, that he wondered if he had done right in asking him, in spite of his unquestionable credentials, to his house. For this reason he was almost glad that Sprague and Purvis were there. He had known them well years before, and although he had no pleasure in recalling the past, he felt that he might seem churlish, and uncivil, if he did not extend his invitation to them. Acting on the impulse of the moment, therefore, a thing which was very rare with him, he asked them both to walk up to the house.

"Signor Ricordo is coming up," he said; "you might as well join him if you care, and then you can all walk back together."

"Delighted, I am sure," said Sprague; but Purvis pleaded a headache, and declared that he would be such a dull companion that he would not inflict his company upon them. The quartette started their walk, and pa.s.sed through the village almost without a word. Whether Ricordo was pleased or annoyed because of Sprague's presence it was impossible to say. He showed no sign either way. While they were in the village they walked abreast, but after they had pa.s.sed through the lodge gates, Sprague and Olive walked side by side, while Ricordo and Mr. Castlemaine came on behind. Sprague found himself strangely nervous when he realised that he was alone with Olive. It was he who had sent the letter which had been followed by such fatal results, and never since that time had he and Olive Castlemaine spoken to each other.

"I am glad to have this opportunity of speaking to you alone, Miss Castlemaine," he said.

Olive did not reply, but waited for him to continue. For years her heart had been very bitter towards him, in spite of the fact that she believed he had revealed to her the real character of the man she had promised to marry. But then Sprague's part in the affair was not altogether honourable. He had been a party to the discussion which led to the wager, and although on his own account he had done his best to persuade Leicester from pursuing the course he had adopted, she could not think of him without a feeling of anger.

"I do not know whether you were angry, or thankful to me, for writing that letter," he said. "I never received any reply to it."

"There was nothing to which I could reply," she said.

"Perhaps not," replied Sprague, "and yet I have never known how you regarded my action in the matter. That is why I am so thankful for this opportunity of speaking to you."

"Pardon me," said Olive, "but would you mind letting the past be dead, and forgotten? As you may imagine, it cannot be pleasant to me."

"I only wanted to know that you had forgiven me," said Sprague.

"Moreover, I wanted to tell you the truth. No one can be more ashamed than I at the course events took. But I never dreamt that--that ever your name would be mentioned. It was, as it were, forced upon me. As for that letter--well, I felt I could do no other than write it. It would have been cowardly, and base of me, not to tell you the truth."

"And what you told me was the truth--the whole truth?" asked Olive. She spoke quickly and nervously, as though a great deal depended upon the answer.

"As far as I know I told you exactly what happened--exactly. It seemed to me you had a right to know, and that it would have been criminal on my part if I had kept silent. That is what I wished to say."

"And now, having said it, will you never refer to it again."

"Just another word, please. You are not angry with me, that is, you do not think badly of me because I told you?"

"I ought to be grateful to you for that part of your action in the matter, and--I am."

She seemed to speak with an effort, but Sprague was evidently satisfied.

"You have chosen a beautiful place to live in, Miss Castlemaine," he said; "and hundreds of people are grateful because of what you have done. I hardly feel justified in benefiting by--shall I call it your hospitality?--but I really wanted to see you again."

"Yes, it is a beautiful neighbourhood," said Olive; "and I hope you will enjoy your stay here."

"Thank you, I am sure I shall," replied Sprague. He had got through the painful part of his conversation--clumsily, it is true; but still it was over, and now he felt a real pleasure in thinking that for the next few days he would be living in close proximity to the woman whom he had once asked to be his wife.

"What do you think of Signor Ricordo?" he went on. "Striking-looking fellow, isn't he?"

"Yes," replied Olive.

"Do you know I've played golf with him twice, and I can't make him out.

Perhaps it is because of his Eastern mode of speech, but he always makes me think of mysteries. When I saw him first he made me think of vampires, and although that feeling has gone, I am not sure that I like him."

"I should think he is a very remarkable man," said Olive evasively.

"He is mysterious, at all events," said Sprague. "How beautiful the park looks in the moonlight!"

He stopped as he spoke, and looked across the park towards the moorlands that were dimly visible in the light of the moon. As they stopped, Mr.

Castlemaine and Signor Ricordo came up.

"I am enjoying your wonderful scenery, Mr. Castlemaine," said Sprague.

"Yes, it is very fine. You can almost see the golf links from here."

"Ah, don't talk of them," said Sprague, with a laugh. "I thought I could play a decent game, but Signor Ricordo has beaten me so badly to-day that I feel humiliated. I thought I should find him an easy opponent, too. He told me he was only a beginner."

"You may have better luck next time," said Mr. Castlemaine.