Название | The Greatest Works of Fergus Hume - 22 Mystery Novels in One Edition |
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Автор произведения | Fergus Hume |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9788027237746 |
‘You are not rich,’ said her lover, ‘so why should we two paupers get married, only to plunge ourselves into misery?’
‘Then you refuse to marry me?’ she said, rising to her feet.
He bowed his head gently.
‘At present, yes,’ he answered, and replaced the cigarette between his lips.
Kitty stood for a moment as if turned to stone, and then throwing up her hands with a gesture of despair, fell back into the chair, and burst into a flood of tears. Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders in a resigned sort of manner, and glanced at his watch to see when it would be time for him to go. Meanwhile he smoked quietly on, and Kitty, after sobbing for some time, dried her eyes, and sat up in the chair again.
‘How long is this going to last?’ she asked, in a hard voice.
‘Till I get rich!’
‘That may be a long time?’
‘It may.’
‘Perhaps never?’
‘Perhaps!’
‘And then I will never be your wife?’
‘Unfortunately, no.’
‘You coward!’ burst forth Kitty, rising from her seat, and crossing over to him; ‘you made me leave my home with your false promises, and now you refuse to make me the only reparation that is in your power.’
‘Circumstances are against any virtuous intentions I may entertain,’ retorted Vandeloup, coolly.
Kitty looked at him for a moment, then ran over to a desk near the window, and took from thence a small bottle of white glass with two red bands round it. She let the lid of the desk fall with a bang, then crossed to Vandeloup, holding the bottle up before him.
‘Do you know what this is?’ she asked, in a harsh voice.
‘The poison I made in Ballarat,’ he answered, coolly, blowing a wreath of smoke; ‘how did you get hold of it?’
‘I found it in your private desk,’ she said, coldly.
‘That was wrong, my dear,’ he answered, gently, ‘you should never betray confidences—I left the desk in your charge, and it should have been sacred to you.’
‘Out of your own mouth are you condemned,’ said the girl, quickly; ‘you have betrayed my confidence and ruined me, so if you do not fix a day for our marriage, I swear I will drink this and die at your feet.’
‘How melodramatic you are, Bebe,’ said Vandeloup, coolly; ‘you put me in mind of Croisette in “Le Sphinx”.’
‘You don’t believe I will do it.’
‘No! I do not.’
‘Then see.’ She took the stopper out of the bottle and held it to her lips. Vandeloup did not stir, but, still smoking, stood looking at her with a smile. His utter callousness was too much for her, and replacing the stopper again, she slipped the bottle into her pocket and let her hands fall idly by her side.
‘I thought you would not do it,’ replied Gaston, smoothly, looking at his watch; ‘you must really excuse me, I hear the cab wheels outside.’
Kitty, however, placed herself in front of him as he moved towards the door.
‘Listen to me,’ she said, in a harsh voice, with white face and flaming eyes; ‘to-night I leave this house for ever.’
He bowed his head.
‘As it pleases you,’ he replied, simply.
‘My God!’ she cried, ‘have you no love for me now?’
‘No,’ he answered, coldly and brutally, ‘I am tired of you.’
She fell on her knees and clutched his hand.
‘Dear Gaston! dear Gaston!’ she cried, covering it with kisses, ‘think how young I am, how my life is ruined, and by you. I gave up everything for your sake—home, father, and friends—you will not cast me off like this after all I have sacrificed for you? Oh, for God’s sake, speak—speak!’
‘My dear,’ said Vandeloup, gravely, looking down at the kneeling figure with the streaming eyes and clenched hands, ‘as long as you choose to stay here I will be your friend—I cannot afford to marry you, but while you are with me our lives will be as they have been; good-bye at present,’ touching her forehead coldly with his lips, ‘I will call to-morrow afternoon to see how you are, and I trust this will be the last of such scenes.’
He drew his hand away from hers, and she sat on the floor dull and silent, with her eyes fixed on the ground and an aching in her heart. Vandeloup went into the hall, put on his hat, then lighting another cigarette and taking his stick, walked gaily out of the house, humming an air from ‘La Belle Helene’. The cab was waiting for him at the door, and telling the man to drive to the Bachelors’ Club, he entered the cab and rattled away down the street without a thought for the broken-hearted woman he left behind.
Kitty sat on the floor with her folded hands lying carelessly on her lap and her eyes staring idly at the carpet. This, then, was the end of all her hopes and joys—she was cast aside carelessly by this man now that he wearied of her. Love’s young dream had been sweet indeed; but, ah! how bitter was the awakening. Her castles in the air had all melted into clouds, and here in the very flower of her youth she felt that her life was ruined, and she was as one wandering in a sterile waste, with a black and starless sky overhead. She clasped her hands with a sensation of pain, and a rose at her breast fell down withered and dead. She took it up with listless fingers, and with the quiver of her hand the leaves fell off and were scattered over her white dress in a pink shower. It was an allegory of her life, she thought. Once it had been as fresh and full of fragrance as this dead rose; then it had withered, and now she saw all her hopes and beliefs falling off one by one like the faded petals. Ah, there is no despair like that of youth; and Kitty, sitting on the floor with hot dry eyes and a pain in her heart, felt that the sun of her life had set for ever.
* * *
So still the night was. No moon as yet, but an innumerable blaze of stars set like diamonds in the dark blue sky. A smoky yellowish haze hung over the city, but down in the garden amid the flowers all was cool and fragrant. The house was quite dark, and a tall mulberry tree on one side of it was black against the clear sky. Suddenly the door opened, and a figure came out and closed the door softly after it. Down the path it came, and standing in the middle of the garden, raised a white tear-stained face to the dark sky. A dog barked in the distance, and then a fresh cold breeze came sweeping through the trees and stirring the still perfumes of the flowers. The figure threw its hands out towards the house with a gesture of despair, then gliding down the path it went out of the gate and stole quietly down the lonely street.
Chapter III.
M. Vandeloup Hears Something to His Advantage
As he drove rapidly into town Gaston’s thoughts were anything but pleasant. Not that he was thinking about Kitty, for he regarded the scene he had with her as merely an outburst of hysterical passion, and did not dream she would take any serious step. He forgot all about her when he left the house, and, lying back in the cab smoking one of his everlasting cigarettes, pondered about his position. The fact was he was very hard up for money, and did not know where to turn for more. His luck at cards was so great that even the Bachelors, used as they were to losing large sums, began to murmur among themselves that M. Vandeloup was too clever, and as that young gentleman by no means desired to lose his popularity he stopped playing cards altogether, and so effectually silenced everyone. So this mode of making money was gone, and until Madame Midas