CHAPTER XXVI.

She turned and inclined her head haughtily, and waited, as if for him

to speak, but Jasper remained silent. She had sent for him; he was here!

At last she spoke.

"You received my note, Mr. Adelstone?"

"I am here," he said, with a slight smile.

She bit her lip, her pride revolting at his presence, at his very tone.

"I sent for you," she said, after a pause, and in the coldest tone,

"because I have some information which I thought would interest you."

"Your ladyship is very good," he said.

"And because," she went on, scorning to accept his thanks, "I thought

you might be of service."

He inclined his head. He would not meet her half way--would not help

her. Let her tell him why she had sent for him, and he would throw

himself into the case, not till then.

"The last time that we met you said words which I am not likely to have

forgotten."

"I have not forgotten them," he said, "and I am prepared to stand by

them."

"You profess to be willing--to be eager to prevent a certain

occurrence?"

"If you mean the marriage of Lord Leycester and Stel--Miss Etheridge, I

am more than willing; I am determined to prevent it!"

"You speak with great confidence," she said.

"I am always confident, Lady Lenore," he said. "It is by confidence

that great things are achieved; this is only a small one."

"And yet it may be beyond your power to achieve," she said, scornfully.

"I think not," he retorted, quietly and gravely.

"Be that as it may," she said, "I have come here this evening to place

in your hands a piece of information respecting the girl in whom you

profess to take an interest."

The blood came to his pale face, and his eyes gleamed with sudden

resentment.

"By 'the girl,' do you refer to Miss Stella Etheridge?" he said,

quietly. "If so, permit me to remind your ladyship that she is a lady!"

Lady Lenore made a gesture of haughty indifference.

"Call her what you please," she said, coldly, insolently. "I did refer

to her."

"And to the man in whom you take an interest?" he said, with an

insolence that matched her own.

The dark red flamed in her face, and she looked at him.

"That is a side of the question which we will not enter upon, if you

please, Mr. Adelstone," she said.

"I am to understand, then," he said, with quiet scorn, "that you came

here this evening by your own appointment to do me a service. Is that

so?"

He had roused her at last.

"Understand, think what you will," she said, in a low, strange voice;

"let there be no parley between us. I wanted to see you and sent for

you, and you are here, let that suffice. You wish to prevent the

marriage of Lord Leycester and _the lady_ whom we saw him with at this

spot. You speak confidently of your power to do so; you will have a

speedy opportunity of testing that power, for Lord Leycester intends

marrying her to-morrow, or at latest the next day."

He did not start, neither did he turn pale, but he looked at her

calmly, fixedly; she knew that her shaft had told home, and she stood

and watched and enjoyed.

"How do you know this?" he asked, quietly, in a very low voice.

She paused. It was a bitter humiliation to have to admit to this man,

whom she regarded as the dust under her feet, that she, the Lady

Lenore, had stooped so low as to steal and read a letter addressed to

another person, and that person her rival--but it had to be admitted.

"I know it because he wrote and made arrangements for her flight and

their clandestine meeting."

"How do you know it?" he asked, and his voice was dry and harsh.

She paused a moment.

"Because I saw the letter," she said, eying him defiantly.

He smiled--even in his agony and fury he smiled at her humiliation.

"You have indeed done much in my service," he said, with a sneer.

"Yours!" came fiercely to her lips; then she made a gesture of

contempt, as if he were beneath her resentment.

"You saw the letter," he said. "What were the arrangements? When and

where was she to meet him? Curse him!" he ground out between his teeth.

"She is to go to London by the eleven o'clock train to-morrow, and he

will meet her and take her to 24 Bruton Street," she said, curtly.

He choked back the oath that came to his lips.

"Meet him, and alone!" he muttered, the sweat breaking out on his

forehead, his lips writhing.

"No, not alone; a boy, her cousin, is to accompany them."

"Ah!" he said, and a malignant smile curled his lips; "I can scotch

that small snake; but him--Lord Leycester!" and his hands clinched.

He took a turn in the narrow path, and then came back to her.

"And afterward?" he asked. "What is to follow?"

She shook her head with contemptuous indifference, and leant against

the wooden rail, looking down at the bubbling, seething water.

"I do not know. I imagine, as the boy accompanies her, that he will

get a special license, and--marry her. But, perhaps"--and she glanced

round at his white face with a malicious smile--"perhaps the boy is a

mere blind, and Lord Leycester will dispose of him."

"And then?"

"Then," she said, slowly. "Well, Lord Leycester's character is

tolerably well known; in all probability he will not find it necessary

to make the girl--I beg your pardon! the young lady--the future

Countess of Wyndward."

She had gone too far. As the cruel, fearful words left her lips in all

their biting, merciless scorn and contempt, he sprang upon her and

seized her by the arm.

Her feet slipped, and she turned and clung to him, half her body

hanging over the white foaming water.

For a moment they stood there, his gleaming eyes threatening death

into hers, then, with a sudden long breath as if he had mastered his

murderous impulse, he stepped backward, and drew her with him into

safety.

"Take care!" he said, wiping the perspiration from his white forehead

with a trembling hand. "Your ladyship nearly went too far! You forget

that I love this girl, as you call her, though she is an angel of light

and a star of nobility beside you, who stoop to open letters and utter

slander! Take care!"

She eyed him with a cruel scorn in her eyes and on her lips, that were

white and shamed.

"You would murder me," she said.

He laughed a low, dry laugh.

"I would murder anyone who spoke of her as you spoke," he said, with

quiet intensity. "So be warned, my lady. For the future, teach your

proud temper respect when it touches her name. Besides"--and he made

a gesture as of contempt--"it was a foolish lie. You know that he

intended nothing of the kind; you know that she is too pure even for

his dastardly heart to compass her destruction. I imagine it is that

which makes you hate her so. Is it not? No matter. Now that you are

warned, and that you have learnt that I, Jasper Adelstone, am no mere

slave to dance or writhe at your pleasure, we will return to the

purport of the meeting. Will you not sit down?" and he pointed to the

weir stage.

She was trembling from sheer physical weakness, combined with impotent

rage and fury, but she would rather have died than obey him.

"Go on," she said. "What have you to say?"

"This," he returned. "That this marriage must be prevented, and that

Miss Etheridge's good name must be preserved and protected. I can

prevent this marriage even now, at the last hour. I will do so, on the

condition that you give me your promise that you will never while life

lasts speak of this. I have not much fear that you will do so; even you

will hesitate before you proclaim to a third person your capability of

opening another person's letters!"

"I promise," she said, coldly. "And how will you prevent this? You do

not know the man against whom you intend to pit yourself. Beware of

him! Lord Leycester is a man who will not be trifled with."

"Thanks" he retorted. "You are very kind to warn me, especially as you

would very much like to see me at Lord Leycester's feet. But I need no

warning. I deal with her, not with him. How, is my affair."

She rose.

"I will go," she said, coldly.

"Stay," he said; "you have got your part to do!"

She eyed him with haughty surprise.

"I?"

He nodded.

"Let me think for a moment," and he took a turn on the path, then he

came back and stood beside her.

"This is your part," he said, in low, distinct tones, "and remember

that the stake you are playing for is as great and greater than mine.

I am playing for love, you are playing for love, and for wealth, and

rank, and influence, all that makes life worth living for, for such as

you."

"You are insolent!"

"No, I am simply candid. Between us two there can be no further

by-play or concealment. If she obeys this command of his, and--" and

he groaned--"I fear she will obey it! they will start by the eleven

o'clock train, and he will await them at the London terminus. They must

start by that train but they must not reach the terminus."

She started, and eyed him in the dusk.

He smiled sardonically.

"No, I do not take extreme measures until they are absolutely

necessary, Lady Lenore. It is an easy matter to prevent them reaching

the terminus, a very easy one--it is only a matter of a forged note."

Her lips moved.

"A forged note?"

He nodded.

"Yes; having bidden her take a decided course, he must write and alter

his instructions. Do you not understand?"

She was silent, watching him.

"A note must come from him--it will be better to write to the boy,

because he is not familiar with Lord Leycester's hand-writing--telling

them to get out at the station before London, at Vauxhall. They are to

get out and go to the entrance, where they will find a brougham, which

will take them to him. You understand?"

"I understand," she said. "But the note--who is to forge--write it?"

He smiled at her with malignant triumph.

"You."

"I?"

He smiled again.

"Yes, you. Who so well able to do it? You are an adept at manipulating

correspondence, remember, my lady!"

She winced, and her eyes blazed under their lowered lids.

"You know his hand-writing, you can easily obtain access to his writing

materials; the paper and envelope will bear the Wyndward crest. The

note can be delivered by a servant from the Hall."

She was silent, overwhelmed by the power of his cunning, and a

reluctant admiration of his resource and ready ingenuity took

possession of her. As he had said, he was no slave--no puppet to be

worked at will.

"You see," he said, after allowing a moment for his scheme to sink into

her brain, "the note will be delivered almost at the last moment, at

the carriage door, as the train starts. You will do it?"

She turned away with a last effort.

"I will not!"

"Good," he said. "Then I will find some other means. Stella Etheridge

shall never be Lord Leycester's wife; but neither shall a certain Lady

Lenore Beauchamp."

She turned upon him with a scornful smile.

"To-morrow, when he stands balked and discomfited, filled with impotent

rage, and sees me carry her off before his eyes, I will give him

something to console him. This little note to wit, and a full account

of _your_ share in this conspiracy which robs him of his prey."

"You will not dare!" she breathed, her head erect, her eyes blazing.

"Dare!" and he laughed. "What is there to dare? Come, my lady! It is

not my fault if you remain in ignorance of the nature of the man you

are dealing with. Work with me and I will serve you, desert me--for it

would be desertion--and I will thwart you. Which is it to be? You will

write and send the note!"

She moved her hand.

"What else?"

A gleam of triumph shot from his small eyes. He thought for a moment.

"Only this" he said, "and it is your welfare that I am now thinking

of. When Lord Leycester returns from his fruitless errand, he will be

in a fit state for consolation. You can give it to him. I have greatly

over-rated the ingenuity and tact of Lady Lenore Beauchamp if that tact

and ingenuity does not enable her to bring Lord Leycester Wyndward to

her feet before the month has passed."

Pale and humiliated, but still meeting his sneering contemptuous gaze

with steadfast eyes, she inclined her head.

"Is that all?"

"That is all," he said. "I can rely on you. Yes, I think--I am sure I

can. After all, our interests are mutual!"

She gathered her shawl round her, and moved toward the path.

He raised his hat.

"When next we meet, Lady Lenore, it will be as strangers who have

nothing in common. The past will have been wiped out from both our

minds and our lives. I shall be the chosen husband of Stella Etheridge

and you will be the Lady Trevor and future Countess of Wyndward. I

never prophesy in vain, my lady; I never prophesied more confidently

than I do now. Good-night."

She did not return his greeting--scarcely looked at him, but glided

quietly into the darkness.