The Angel of Terror | Page 9

How
Mr. Meredith comes here is quite a matter outside our knowledge," said
the diplomatic lady, and Lydia laughed in spite of herself.
She spent half an hour making herself presentable for the forthcoming
ordeal.
As a church clock struck eight, there came another tap on the door. It
was Mrs. Rennett again.

"They are waiting," she said. Her face was a little pale and her lips
trembled.
Lydia, however, was calmness itself, as she walked into the
drawing-room ahead of her hostess.
There were four men. Glover and Rennett she knew. A third man
wearing a clerical collar she guessed was the officiating priest, and all
her attention was concentrated upon the fourth. He was a gaunt,
unshaven man, his hair cut short, his face and figure wasted, so that the
clothes he wore hung on him. Her first feeling was one of revulsion.
Her second was an impulse of pity. James Meredith, for she guessed it
was he, appeared wretchedly ill. He swung round as she came in, and
looked at her intently, then, walking quickly towards her, he held out
his thin hand.
"Miss Beale, isn't it?" he said. "I'm sorry to meet you under such
unpleasant circumstances. Glover has explained everything, has he
not?"
She nodded.
His deep-set eyes had a magnetic quality that fascinated her.
"You understand the terms? Glover has told you just why this marriage
must take place?" he said, lowering his voice. "Believe me, I am deeply
grateful to you for falling in with my wishes."
Without preliminary he walked over to where the parson stood.
"We will begin now," he said simply.
The ceremony seemed so unreal to the girl that she did not realise what
it portended, not even when a ring (a loosely-fitting ring, for Jack
Glover had made the wildest guess at the size) was slipped over her
finger. She knelt to receive the solemn benediction and then got slowly
to her feet and looked at her husband strangely.

"I think I'm going to faint," she said.
It was Jack Glover who caught her and carried her to the sofa. She
woke with a confused idea that somebody was trying to hypnotise her,
and she opened her eyes to look upon the sombre face of James
Meredith.
"Better?" he asked anxiously. "I'm afraid you've had a trying time, and
no sleep you said, Mrs. Rennett?"
Mrs. Rennett shook her head.
"Well, you'll sleep to-night better than I shall," he smiled, and then he
turned to Rennett, a grave and anxious man, who stood nervously
stroking his little beard, watching the bridegroom. "Mr. Rennett," he
said, "I must tell you in the presence of witnesses, that I have escaped
from a nursing home to which I had been sent by the clemency of the
Secretary of State. When I informed you that I had received permission
to come to your house this morning to get married, I told you that
which was not true."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Rennett politely. "And, of course, it is my
duty to hand you over to the police, Mr. Meredith." It was all part of the
game. The girl watched the play, knowing that this scene was carefully
rehearsed, in order to absolve Rennett and his partner from complicity
in the escape.
Rennett had hardly spoken when there was a loud rat-tat at the front
door, and Jack Glover hastened into the hall to answer. But it was not
the policeman he had expected. It was a girl in a big sable coat, muffled
up to her eyes. She pushed past Jack, crossed the hall, and walked
straight into the drawing-room.
Lydia, standing shakily by Mrs. Rennett's side, saw the visitor come in,
and then, as she unfastened her coat, recognised her with a gasp. It was
the beautiful girl she had seen in the stalls of the theatre the night
before!

"And what can we do for you?" It was Glover's voice again, bland and
bantering.
"I want Meredith," said the girl shortly, and Glover chuckled.
"You have wanted Meredith for a long time, Miss Briggerland," he said,
"and you're likely to want. You have arrived just a little too late."
The girl's eyes fell upon the parson.
"Too late," she said slowly, "then he is married?"
She bit her red lips and nodded, then she looked at Lydia, and the blue
eyes were expressionless.
Meredith had disappeared. Lydia looked round for him in her distress,
but he had gone. She wondered if he had gone out to the police, to
make his surrender, and she was still wondering when there came the
sound of a shot.
It was from the outside of the house, and at the sound Glover ran
through the doorway, crossed the hall and flew into the open. It