The Knave of Diamonds | Page 7

You know the ancient adage
about listeners. We deserved it all."
"Don't talk about deserts!" he exclaimed, with unexpected vehemence.
"He doesn't deserve to have a whole bone left in his body for speaking
of you so. Neither do I for suffering it in my presence!"
She freed her hand gently. "You could not have done otherwise.
Believe me, I am not altogether sorry that you were with me when it
happened. It is just as well that you should know the truth, and I could
not have told it you myself. Come, shall we go down?"
"Wait a minute!" he said. "Let me know how I stand with you first.
Have you decided to pass over that lie of mine, or are you going to cut
me next time we meet?"

"I shall not cut you," she said.
"You are going to acknowledge me then with the coldest of nods,
which is even more damnable," he returned, with gloomy conviction.
She hesitated for an instant. Then, "Mr. Errol," she said gently, "will
you believe me when I say that, however I treat you in the future, that
lie of yours will in no way influence me? You have helped me much
more than you realise by your trifling to-night. I am not sure that you
meant to do so. But I am grateful to you all the same."
"Then we are friends?" said Nap, quickly.
"Yes, we are friends; but it is very unlikely that we shall meet again. I
cannot invite you to call."
"And you won't call either on my mother?" he asked.
"I am afraid not."
He was silent a moment. Then, "So let it be!" he said. "But I fancy we
shall meet again notwithstanding. So au revoir, Lady Carfax! Can you
find your own way down?"
She understood in an instant the motive that prompted the question, and
the impulse to express her appreciation of it would not be denied. She
extended her hand with an assumption of royal graciousness that did
not cloak her gratitude. "Good-bye, Sir Jester!" she said.
He took her fingers gallantly upon his sleeve and touched them with his
lips. "Farewell to your most gracious majesty!" he responded.
CHAPTER III
THE CHARIOT OF THE GODS
The Hunt Ball was over, and Mrs. Damer, wife of the M.F.H., was
standing on the steps of the Carfax Arms, bidding the last members of

the Hunt farewell.
Nap Errol was assisting her. He often did assist Mrs. Damer with that
careless, half-insolent gallantry of his that no woman ever dreamed of
resenting. Like his namesake of an earlier date he held his own
wherever he went by sheer, stupendous egotism.
The crowd had thinned considerably, the band had begun to pack up. In
the refreshment-room waiters were hurrying to and fro.
"Isn't it horrid?" laughed Mrs. Damer, shrugging her shoulders and
shivering. "One feels so demoralised at this end of the night. Nap, I
wish you would find my husband. I've said good-night to everybody,
and I want to go home to bed."
"Lady Carfax hasn't gone yet," observed Nap. "I saw her standing in the
doorway of the ladies' cloak-room just now."
"Lady Carfax! Are you sure? I thought they went long ago. Is their
carriage waiting then?"
"Yes. It is still there."
Mrs. Damer hastened into the ladies' cloak-room, still half-incredulous.
At her entrance Anne Carfax, clad in a white wrap that made her face
look ghastly, turned from the dying fire.
"My dear Lady Carfax!" exclaimed Mrs. Damer. "I quite thought you
left ages ago. What is it? Is anything the matter?"
The pale lips smiled. "No, nothing, thank you. I am only waiting for my
husband."
"Ah! Then we are in the same plight. I am waiting for mine." Mrs.
Damer hastened to veil her solicitude, which was evidently unwelcome.
She caught up her cloak and began to fumble with it. The attendant had
gone.

"Let me!" said Anne, in her quiet voice, and took it from her.
Her fingers touched Mrs. Damer's neck, and Mrs. Damer shivered
audibly. "Thank you, thank you! You are as cold as ice. Are you well
wrapped up?"
"Yes, quite. I am never very warm, you know. It is not my nature. Is Mr.
Damer ready? I hope you will not delay your departure on my account.
Sir Giles will not be long, I think."
"We will send Nap Errol to find him," said Mrs. Damer.
"Oh, no, thank you. That is quite unnecessary. Please do not trouble
about me. A few minutes more or less make little difference."
The words came with the patience of deadly weariness. She was still
faintly smiling as she wound a scarf about Mrs. Damer's head.
"I am quite ready, you see," she said. "I shall leave the moment