"Aynesworth," he remarked, "is going to tell you some interesting facts about myself. Please listen attentively as afterwards you will be called upon to make a somewhat important decision."She looked at him a little wistfully and sighed. There was no trace any longer of her companion of the last few weeks. It was the stern and gloomy stranger of her earlier recollections who sat there with folded arms.
"Is it really necessary?" she asked.
"Absolutely," Aynesworth answered hurriedly. "It won't take long, but there are things which you must know.""Very well," she answered, "I am listening."
Aynesworth inclined his head towards the place where Wingrave sat.
"I will admit," he said, "that the man there, whom I have served for the last four years and more, never deceived me as to his real character and intentions. He had been badly treated by a woman, and he told me plainly that he entered into life again at war with his fellows. Where he could see an opportunity of doing evil, he meant to do it; where he could bring misery and suffering upon anyone with whom he came into contact, he meant to grasp the opportunity. I listened to him, but I never believed. I told myself that it would be interesting to watch his life, and to see the gradual, inevitable humanizing of the man. So I entered his service, and have remained in it until today."He turned more directly towards Juliet. She was listening breathlessly to every word.
"Juliet," he said, "he has kept his word. I have been by his side, and I speak of the things I know. He has sought no one's friendship who has not suffered for it, there is not a man or woman living who owes him the acknowledgment of a single act of kindness. I have seen him deliberately scheme to bring about the ruin of a harmless little woman. I have seen him exact his pound of flesh, even at the cost of ruin, from a boy. I tell you, Juliet, of my own knowledge, that he has neither heart nor conscience, and that he glories in the evil that his hand finds to do. Even you must know something of his reputation--have heard something of his doings, under the name he is best known by in London--Mr. Wingrave, millionaire."She started back as though in terror. Then she turned to Wingrave, who sat stonily silent.
"It isn't true," she cried. "You are not--that man?"He raised his eyes and looked at her. It seemed to her that there was something almost satanic in the smile which alone disturbed the serenity of his face.
"Certainly I am," he answered; "when I returned from America, it suited me to change my identity. You must not doubt anything that Mr. Aynesworth says. Ican assure you that he is a most truthful and conscientious young man. I shall be able to give him a testimonial with a perfectly clear conscience."Juliet shuddered as she turned away. All the joy of life seemed to have gone from her face.
"You are Mr. Wingrave--the Mr. Wingrave. Oh! I can't believe it," she broke off suddenly. "No one could have been so kind, so generous, as you have been to me."She looked from one to the other of the two men. Both were silent, but whereas Aynesworth had turned his head away, Wingrave's position and attitude were unchanged. She moved suddenly over towards him. One hand fell almost caressingly upon his shoulder. She looked eagerly into his face.
"Tell me--that it isn't all true," she begged. "Tell me that you kindness to me, at least, was real--that you did not mean it to be for my unhappiness afterwards. Please tell me that. I think if you asked me, if you cared to ask me, that I could forgive everything else.""Every vice, save one," Wingrave murmured, "Nature has lavished upon me. I am a poor liar. It is perfectly true that my object in life has been exactly as Aynesworth has stated it. I may have been more or less successful--Aynesworth can tell you that, too. As regards yourself--""Yes?" she exclaimed.
"I congratulate you upon your escape," Wingrave said. "Aynesworth is right.
Association of any sort with me is for your evil!"She covered her face with her hands. Even his tone was different. She felt that this man was a stranger, and a stranger to be feared. Aynesworth came over to her side and drew her away.
"I have a cart outside," he said. "I am going to take you to Truro--"Wingrave heard the gate close after them--he heard the rumble of the cart in the road growing fainter and fainter. He was alone now in the garden, and the darkness was closing around him. He staggered to his feet. His face was back in its old set lines. He was once more at war with the world.
