The Slave of Silence

here. Sir Charles, smiling, gay, debonair, chatted with his guests as if quite forgetful of the silent watchers by the railings outside. He might have been a rich man

so plainly and simply. On her left hand sat Stephen Richford, a dull, heavy-looking man with a thick lip and a suggestion of shiftiness in his small eyes. Altogether he bore a strong resemblance to a prize-fi

nd knew everything, but as to his past he said nothing. Nobody knew anything about his people and yet everybody trusted him, indeed no man in the Army had been in receipt

" he smiled. "It seems strange to think that whe

were going to suggest," Beatr

"Looking round the table I can see four girls at least who are envying you from the bott

them that Beatrice did not fail to notice. In a way he was telling her how sorry he was; Richford had been more or less dragged into a sporti

under the circumstances. I am going to make a singular request. Everybody likes and trusts you. I have liked and trusted you since the first

heavy jowl. "One sees things, quiet men like myself always see things. And I understand exactly what you me

work to do whilst you

gularly enough, in this very hotel. I can't go into the matter here with all this chattering mob of people about us,

Beatrice exclaimed. "Why, on

able gave these two a sense of personal isolation. "That is remarkable. I am looking for a grey lady, and I trace

rack of a place. She was dressed from head to foot in silver grey, she had just the eyes and hair that you

late. A deeper tinge of melancholy than usual was

her again--but there, you are never likely to see her again ... I will tell you the story some other time, not befo

e smiled and blushed. "In what

friend of mine. I knew his father intimately. It was only at Easter that we met in Rome, and, as

r the girl's hand. Sir Charles was leaning back in his chair talking gaily. Nobody seem

," she said with her eyes cast down on her plate. "No, I do not want any w

e that it is too late?"

e," Beatrice replied. "It is a m

etty woman on his right hand. Apparently the baronet had not a single care in the world; his

Sir Charles has to

prosperous! And yet you can never tell. And there was a time when he was so very di

upon her. The expression of his face showed

father that his days may be long in the land where good dinners abound and tradesmen ar

bending over the girl's chair again with a supplicating suggestion that she should try a little wine of some sort

aret, a liqueur. No. 74 is what-will madame kind

better cause, the Swiss place

note. The girl's eyes gleamed as she saw the writing. The words were few but sig

that fellow," Berrington said. "

not to attract any attention to me. And the waiter was not to blame. He had a

illed words upon it. Berrington's quick i

handwriting. And yet in some way it seems quite familia

y likely," the girl said. "It is

ldier's love of adventure, and he

ppened. I was not quite aware at that hour how close was the shadow of disgrace. I expect Mark has found out everything. Probably he has on

a dreadful headache, that the atmosphere of the room was insupportable, and th

lounged heavily to his feet. "I do not feel the l

trouble to disguise her dislike for the man she had promised to marry. In his heart of hearts he had mad

room and wait for you. Keep you from being interru

gnation if his words meant anything at all. It was a cruel disappointment, but the girl's face said nothing of her emotions. She passed quietly along till

readful headache. Can I get anything for Madame?

e caught the eye of the speaker. Apparently there was some

er in the drawing-room, "but I shall be very glad if you will

t was beating thick and fast. She looked up again presently as a waiter entered leaving the necessary thing

. "May I be allowed to pou

n a whisper. Beatrice checked

d. "Mark, dear Mark

s he laid a hand on the

said. "For God's sake don'