The Intriguers | Page 3

sister, was true to the Challoner strain, his father a reckless Irish sportsman."
"But what was the story? I haven't heard it."
"After Blake broke his neck when hunting, the Colonel brought Dick up, and, as a matter of course, sent him into the army. He became a sapper, entering the Indian service. There he met his cousin, Bertram, who was in the line, somewhere on the frontier. They were both sent with an expedition into the hills, and there was a night attack. It was important that an advanced post should be defended, and Dick had laid out the trenches. In the middle of the fight an officer lost his nerve, the position was stormed, and the expedition terribly cut up. Owing to the darkness and confusion there was a doubt about who had led the retreat, but Dick was blamed and made no defense. In spite of this, he was acquitted at the inquiry, perhaps because he was a favorite and Colonel Challoner was well known upon the frontier; but the opinion of the mess was against him. He left the service, and the Challoners never speak of him."
"I once met Lieutenant Blake," Millicent broke in, with a flush in her face. "Though he spoke only a word or two to me, he did a very chivalrous thing; one that needed courage and coolness. I find it hard to believe that such a man could ever be a coward."
"So do I," Mrs. Keith agreed. "Still, I haven't seen him since he was a boy."
"I saw him in London just before he went to India," Mrs. Ashborne said. "It's strange I have never heard the story before; although I have had whispers of the scandal from several quarters. It seems to be a sort of skeleton in the closet' for the Challoners."
"The disgrace was a great blow to the Colonel. He has never got over it."
"I saw some one in the hotel last night that reminded me strongly of young Blake. But I suppose it couldn't have been."
"No one knows where he is," Mrs. Keith replied. "I believe he went to East Africa, and from there he may have drifted to America. The Colonel never hears from him."
She picked up one of her letters which had not yet been opened.
"This," she said, "is from Frances Foster--you know her. I'm sure it will contain news of the Challoner wedding."
She tore open the envelope and Mrs. Ashborne turned again to her English newspaper. Millicent sat looking out over the gorge, while her thoughts went back to a dimly lighted drawing-room in a small London apartment, where she was feeling very lonely and half dismayed, one evening soon after she had joined her father. A few beautiful objects of art were scattered among the shabby furniture; there were stains of wine on the fine Eastern rug, an inlaid table was scraped and damaged, and one chair had a broken leg. All she saw spoke of neglect and vanished prosperity. Hoarse voices and loud laughter came from an ad joining room, and a smell of cigar smoke accompanied them. Sitting at the piano, she restlessly turned over some music and now and then played a few bars to divert her troubled thoughts. Until a few weeks before, she had led a peaceful life in the country, and it had been a painful surprise to her to find her father of such doubtful character and habits. She was interrupted by the violent opening of the door, and a group of excited men burst into the room. They were shouting with laughter at a joke which made her blush, and one dragged a companion in by the arm. Another, breaking off from rude horse-play, came toward her with a drunken leer. She shrank from his hot face and wine-laden breath as she drew back, wondering how she could reach her father, who stood in the doorway trying to restrain his guests. Then a young man sprang forward, with disgust and anger in his brown face, and she felt that she was safe. He looked clean and wholesome by contrast with the rest, and his movements were swift and athletic. Millicent could remember him very well, for she had often thought of Lieutenant Blake with gratitude. Just as the tipsy gallant stretched out his hand to seize her, the electric light went out; there was a brief scuffle in the darkness, the door banged, and when the light flashed up again only Blake and her father were in the room. Afterward her father told her, with a look of shame on his handsome, dissipated face, that he had been afraid of something of the kind happening, and she must leave him. Millicent refused, for, worn as he was by many excesses, his health was breaking down; and when