The Missioner Part 44

"Yes!" he answered. "Mr. White wished to see me early to-morrow morning about the new leases, and I have to go before the committee about this Loughborough water scheme."

"These are my affairs," she said, "so if you should miss your train, the responsibility will be mine."

"I can spare five minutes," he answered, "but I cannot miss that train.

I have some private engagements. And, madam," he continued, struggling with his anger, "I beg that you will not forget that even if I am in your employ, this is my house, and I will not have that man in it!"

He pointed to Macheson, who was standing upon the threshold. Wilhelmina stood between the two.

"Mr. Hurd," she said, "please control yourself. There is no reason why we should any of us quarrel. Mr. Macheson and I are here to speak to you of a matter in which he has become concerned. I asked him to come here with me. We have come to see you about Letty!"

"What about her?" he demanded, with some attempt at bravado.

"We find that there is an impression in the village that Mr. Macheson is responsible for her disappearance."

Hurd seized his opportunity without a second's hesitation.

"How do you know that it isn't the truth?" he demanded. "He wouldn't be the first of these psalm-singing missioners who have turned out to be hypocrites!"

Macheson never flinched. Wilhelmina only shrugged her shoulders.

"Mr. Hurd," she said, "we will not waste time. Mr. Macheson and I are both perfectly aware that you are responsible for Letty's disappearance."

"It's--it's false!" he declared, swallowing with an effort a more obnoxious word. "Why, I haven't left the village since the day she went away."

"But you are going--to-night," Wilhelmina remarked.

He flushed.

"I'm going away on business," he answered. "I don't see why it should be taken for granted that I'm going to see her."

"Nevertheless," Wilhelmina said quietly, "between us three there isn't the slightest doubt about it. I tell you frankly that the details of your private life in an ordinary way do not interest me in the least.

But, on the other hand, I will not have you playing the Don Juan amongst the daughters of my tenants. You have been very foolish and you will have to pay for it. I do not wish to make you lose your train to-night, but you must understand that if you ever return to Thorpe, you must bring back Letty Foulton as your wife."

He stared at her incredulously.

"As my--wife!" he exclaimed.

"Precisely," Wilhelmina answered. "I will give her a wedding present of a thousand pounds, and I will see that your own position here is made a permanent one."

He had the appearance of a man beside himself with anger. Was this to be the end of his schemes and hopes! He, to marry the pretty uneducated daughter of a working farmer--a girl, too, who was his already for the asking. He struggled with a torrent of ugly words.

"I--I must refuse!" he said, denying himself more vigorous terms with an effort.

She looked at him steadily.

"Better think it over, Mr. Hurd," she said. "I am in earnest."

He hesitated for a moment, and then, with a glance at the clock, moved towards the door.

"Very well," he said, "I will think it over. I will let you know immediately I return from London."

She shook her head.

"You can take as long as you like to reflect," she answered, "but it must be here in this room. Mr. Macheson and I will wait."

He turned towards her.

"Miss Thorpe-Hatton," he said, "will you allow me to speak to you alone for two minutes?"

She shook her head.

"It is not necessary," she answered. "Mr. Macheson does not count. You can say whatever you will before him."

A smile that was half a sneer curved his lips. He was like a rat in a corner, and he knew that he must fight. He must use the weapon which he had feared with a coward's fear.

"The matter on which I wish to speak to you," he said, looking straight at her, "is not directly connected with the affair which we have been discussing. If you will give me two minutes, I think I can make you understand."

She met his challenge without flinching. She was a shade paler, perhaps; the little glow which the walk through the enchanted twilight had brought into her cheeks had faded away. But her gaze was as cool and contemptuous as before. She showed no sign of any fear--of any desire to conciliate.

"I think," she said, "that I can understand without. You can consider that we are alone. Whatever you may have to say to me, I should prefer that Mr. Macheson also heard."

Macheson looked from one to the other uneasily.

"Shall I wait in the pa.s.sage?" he asked. "I should be within call."

"Certainly not," she answered. "This person," she continued, indicating Stephen with a scornful gesture, "is, I believe, about to make a bungling attempt to blackmail me! I should much prefer that you were present."

Stephen Hurd drew a sharp breath. Her words stung like whips.

"I don't know--about blackmail," he said, still holding himself in. "I want nothing from you. I only ask to be left alone. Stop this nonsense about Letty Foulton and let me catch my train. That's all I want."

Wilhelmina shrugged her shoulders.

"You are a very wearisome person," she declared. "Did you ever know me to change my mind? Every word I have said to you I absolutely mean. No more, no less!"

One of the veins at his temple was protruding. He was pa.s.sionately angry.

"You think it wise," he cried threateningly, "to make an enemy of me!"

She laughed derisively, a laugh as soft as velvet, but to him maddening.

"My dear young man," she said carelessly, "I think I should prefer you in that capacity. I should probably see less of you."

He took a quick stride forward. He thrust his face almost into hers. She drew back with a gesture of disgust.

"You," he cried, striking the table with his clenched fist, "to pretend to care what becomes of any fool of a girl who chooses to take a lover!

Is it because you're in love with this would-be saint here?"