The Man from Brodney's Part 22

"It's very good of you," said the Enemy, after all of them had joined in the invitation. There was a peculiar twinkle in his eye as he asked this rather confounding question: "Why is it that I am more fortunate than your own attorneys? I am but a humble lawyer, after all, no better than they. Would you mind telling me why I am honoured by an invitation to sit at the table with you?" The touch of easy sarcasm was softened by the frank smile that went with it. Deppingham, having been the first to offend, after a look of dismay at his wife, felt it his duty to explain.

"It's--it's--er--oh, yes, it's because you're a diplomat," he finally remarked in triumph. It was a grand recovery, thought he. "Saunders is an a.s.s and Britt would be one if Browne could only admit it, as I do.

Rubbis.h.!.+ Don't let that trouble you. Eh, Browne?"

"Besides," said Bobby Browne breezily, "I haven't heard of your clients inviting _you_ to lunch, Mr. Chase. The cases are parallel."

"I'm not so sure about his clients' wives," said Deppingham, with a vast haw-haw! Chase looked extremely uncomfortable.

"I am told that some of them are very beautiful," said Genevra sedately.

"Other men's wives always are, I've discovered," said Chase gallantly.

The party had moved over to the great stone steps which led down into the gardens. Chase was standing beside Lady Deppingham and both of them were looking toward his distant bungalow. He turned to the Princess with the remark:

"That is my home. Princess. It is the first time I have seen it from your point of view, Lady Deppingham. I must say that it doesn't seem as far from the chateau to the bungalow as it does from the bungalow to the chateau. There have been times when the chateau seemed to be thousands of miles away."

"When in reality it was at your very feet," she said with a bright look into his eyes. For some unaccountable reason, Genevra resented that look and speech. Perhaps it was because she felt the rift of an undercurrent.

"Is that really where you live?" she asked, so innocently that Chase had difficulty in controlling his expression.

At that instant something struck sharply against the stone column above Chase's head. At least three persons saw the little puff of smoke in the hills far to the right. Every one heard the distant crack of a rifle.

The bullet had dropped at Chase's feet before the sound of the report came floating to their ears. No one spoke as he stooped and picked up the warm, deadly missile. Turning it over in his fingers, an ugly thing to look at, he said coolly, although his cheek had gone white:

"With Von Blitz's compliments, ladies and gentlemen. He is calling on me, by proxy."

"Good G.o.d, Chase," cried Browne, "they're trying to murder us. Get back, every one! Inside the doors!"

The women, white-faced and silent for the moment, turned to follow the speaker.

"I'm sorry to bring my troubles to your door," said Chase. "It was meant for me, not for any of you. The man who fired that did not intend to kill me. He was merely giving voice to his pain and regret at seeing me in such bad company." He was smiling calmly and did not take a single step to follow them to safety.

"Come in, Chase! Don't stand out there to be shot at."

"I'll stay here for a few minutes, Mr. Browne, if you don't mind, just to convince you all that the shot was not intended to kill. They're not ready to kill me yet. I'm sure Lord Deppingham will understand. He has been shot at often enough since he came to the island."

"By Jove, I should rather say I have," blurted out Deppingham. "'Pon my word, they had a shot at me every time I tried to pluck a flower at the roadside. I've got so used to it that I resent it when they don't have a try at me."

"Think it was Von Blitz?" asked Browne.

"No. He couldn't hit the chateau at two hundred yards. It is a native.

They shoot like fury." He lighted a cigarette and coolly leaned against the column, his gaze bent on the spot where the smoke had been seen. The others were grouped inside the doors, where they could see without being seen. A certain sense of horror possessed all of the watchers. It was as if they were waiting to see him fall with a bullet in his breast--executed before their eyes. Several minutes pa.s.sed.

"For heaven's sake, why does he stand there?" cried the Princess at last. "I can endure it no longer. It may be as he says it is, but it is foolhardy to stand there and taunt the pride of that marksman. I can't stay here and wait for it to come. How can--"

"He's been there for ten minutes, Princess," said Browne. "Plenty of time for another try."

"I am not afraid to stand beside him," said Lady Agnes suddenly. She had conquered her dread and saw the chance for something theatrical. Her husband grasped her arm as she started toward the Enemy.

"None of that, Aggie," he said sharply.

Before they were aware of her intention, the Princess left the shelter and boldly walked across the open s.p.a.ce to the side of the man. He started and opened his lips to give vent to a sharp command.

"It is so easy to be a hero, Mr. Chase, when one is quite sure there is no real danger," she said, with distinct irony in her tones. "One can afford to be melodramatic if he knows his part so well as you know yours."

Chase felt his face burn. It was a direct declaration that he had planned the whole affair in advance. He flicked the ashes from his cigarette and then tossed it away, hesitating long before replying.

"Nevertheless, I have the greatest respect for the courage which brings you to my side. I daresay you are quite justified in your opinion of me.

It all must seem very theatrical to you. I had not thought of it in that light. I shall now retire from the centre of the stage. It will be perfectly safe for you to remain here--just as it was for me." He was leaving her without another word or look. She repented.

"I am sorry for what I said," she said eagerly. "And--" she looked up at the hills with a sudden widening of her eyes--"I think I shall not remain."

He waited for her and they crossed to the entrance together.

Luncheon was quite well over before the spirits of the party reacted from the depression due to the shooting. Chase made light of the occurrence, but sought to impress upon the others the fact that it was prophetic of more serious events in the future. In a perfectly cold-blooded manner he told them that the islanders might rise against them at any time, overstepping the bounds of England's law in a return to the primeval law of might. He advised the occupants of the chateau to exercise extreme caution at all times.

"The people are angry and they will become desperate. Their interests are mine, of course. I am perfectly sincere in saying to you, Lady Deppingham, and to you, Mr. Browne, that in time they will win out against you in the courts. But they are impatient; they are not the kind who can wait and be content. It is impossible for you to carry out the provisions of the will, and they know it. That is why they resent the delays that are impending."

Deppingham told him of the scheme proposed by Saunders, treating it as a vast joke. Chase showed a momentary sign of uneasiness, but covered it instantly by laughing with the others. Strange to say, he had been instructed from London to look out for just such a coup on the part of the heirs. Not that the marriage could be legally established, but that it might create a complication worth avoiding.

He could not help looking from Lady Deppingham to Bobby Browne, a calculating gleam in his grey eyes. How very dangerous she could be! He was quite ready to feel very sorry for pretty Mrs. Browne. Browne, of course, revealed no present symptom of surrender to the charms of his co-legatee. Later on, he was to recall this bit of calculation and to enlarge upon it from divers points of view.

Just now he was enjoying himself for the first time since his arrival in j.a.pat. He sat opposite to the Princess; his eyes were refres.h.i.+ng themselves after months of fatigue; his blood was coursing through new veins. And yet, his head was calling his heart a fool.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PRINCESS GOES GALLOPING

A week pa.s.sed--an interesting week in which few things happened openly, but in which the entire situation underwent a subtle but complete change. The mail steamer had come and gone. It brought disconcerting news from London. Chase was obliged to tell the islanders that notice of a contest had been filed. The lineal heirs had pooled their issues and were now fighting side by side. The matter would be in chancery for months, even years. He could almost feel the gust of rage and disappointment that swept over the island--although not a word came from the lips of the sullen population. The very silence was foreboding.

He did not visit the chateau during that perplexing week. It was hard, but he resolutely kept to the path of duty, disdaining the pleasures that beckoned to him. Every day he saw and talked with Britt and Saunders. They, as well as the brisk Miss Pelham, gave him the "family news" from the chateau. Saunders, when he was not moping with the ague of love, indulged in rare exhibitions of joy over the turn affairs were taking with his client and Bobby Browne. It did not require extraordinary keenness on Chase's part to gather that her ladys.h.i.+p and Browne had suddenly decided to engage in what he would call a mild flirtation, but what Saunders looked upon as a real attack of love.

"If I had the nerve, I'd call Browne good and hard," said Britt, over his julep. "It isn't right. It isn't decent. No telling what it will come to. The worst of it is that his wife doesn't blame him. She blames her. They disappear for hours at a time and they've always got their heads together. I've noticed it for a month, but it's got worse in the last week. Poor little Drusilla. She's from Boston, Chase, and can't retaliate. Besides, Deppingham wouldn't take notice if she tried."

"There's one safeguard," said Chase. "They can't elope on this island."

"They can't, eh? Why, man, they could elope in the chateau and n.o.body could overtake 'em. You've no idea how big it is. The worst of it is, Deppingham has got an idea that they may try to put him out of the way--him and Drusilla. Awful, isn't it?"

"Perfect rot, Britt. You'll find that it turns out all right in the end.

I'd bank on Lady Deppingham's cool little head. Browne may be mad, but she isn't."

"It won't help me any unless both of 'em are mad," said Britt, with a wry face. "And, say, by the way, Saunders is getting to dislike you intensely."

"I can't help it if he loves the only stenographer on the island," said Chase easily. "You seem to be the only one who isn't in hot water all the time, Britt."

"Me and the Princess," said Britt laconically. Chase looked up quickly, but the other's face was as straight as could be. "If you were a real gentleman you would come around once in a while and give her something to talk to, instead of about."