CHAPTER X

"What is love?" asked Leah, the next day, at twenty minutes past four of a clear wintry afternoon.

With all his knowledge of five languages, Demetrius could find no answer, and rose from his knees with the feelings of a man who is trying to melt an iceberg with a lucifer match. Ever since Lady Jim arrived to keep her appointment in the picture gallery, he had been explaining his feelings at length, and in the orthodox attitude of a mortal worshipping a goddess. He had crossed his "t's" and dotted his "i's" with the utmost precision. From English he had glided into French, to plead the attractions of illicit passion: two minutes of German resulted in sentimental assertions of that passion's righteousness, and in illustrations of Wertherism; and, immediately before she asked that impossible question, he had harked back to her native tongue, to impress upon her the solid British common-sense of his wooing. Leah listened to this polyglot love-making with the feeling that she was camping under the tower of Babel. Demetrius might have been a gramophone, pouring out recitations from the poets, for all the impression his impassionate rhetoric made on her well-trained feelings.

"I suppose all these speeches can be classified under the heading of love," she said unkindly, when his exhaustion gave her an opportunity of intervening. "But--what is love?"

"I have been trying to explain," stammered the Russian, getting on his legs dispiritedly.

"Oh, your intentions are of the best. I gather that much; but I am still waiting for a definition."

"Love is worship," ventured Demetrius, rashly.

"Then why aren't you on your knees?"

"I have been on my knees for fifteen minutes."

"Really! When did you look at your watch?"

"My heart told me."

"Then your heart is a time-keeper, or perhaps a time-server."

"If you will permit me to serve you, my service will be for all time."

"Ah! It seems we are immortal, then?"

"You are," he declared passionately; "every goddess is immortal."

Lady Jim laughed. This war of words was amusing and pretty, but she wished to arrive at some conclusion which would repay her for spending an hour in a cold gallery, packed with shockingly bad pictures.

"I am waiting for your definition of love," she said at length.

"I cannot explain the impossible."

"It seems to me that you have been trying to do so. Would you like to hear how I define love?"

His eyes burned like two menacing stars. "Yes," he muttered in a husky voice, and holding his passions in leash.

"Love is sacrifice," said Leah, slowly.

"Then I--love you," he burst out. "There is no sacrifice I would not make for your dear sake."

"Can I believe that?"

"Try me," and he again dropped on his knees.

"Get up," said Lady Jim, brusquely. He did so. "Take a seat!" He did so. "Look at the floor, and not at me." He did so. "Now then," she continued, feeling relieved that those fierce eyes were not making her flesh creep, "do you know what you are, Monsieur Demetrius?"

"A fool," he murmured bitterly, his gaze on the parquetry.

"I quite agree with you," she rejoined promptly. "And why?"

"Because I love you."

"Not at all. Because you don't love Katinka Aksakoff."

"What has that to do with this?" he said gloomily.

"Everything. She is free and I am not; she loves you, and I don't; she will do you good, I shall do you harm; she can gain your pardon and make your fortune----"

"And you can make me happy," cried Demetrius, looking up with the air of one who has found a clinching argument.

"With the crumbs from my husband's table?"

"You don't love him!"

The British-matron portion of Leah revolted against this plain speaking. She liked sugar-coated speeches. "You have no right to say that."

"I have no right to make love to you," cried the doctor, rising, "but I do. Pschutt"--he snapped his fingers--"what care I for that English pig, your husband? As to that young fool who sat beside you last night----"

Lady Jim clapped her hands, and jumped up, laughing. "Oh," she cried, with great enjoyment, "so it was Mr. Askew's attentions that made you lose your head?"

"But not my heart. I lost that months ago, when I first met you. Ah, you cruel woman, have I not worshipped and adored you these many days? Do I not ache here?" he struck his breast passionately. "Have you not made my life miserable with your looks and smiles and coldness and beauty?" He seized her hands roughly. "I love you so much that I--even I, Constantine Demetrius--could kill you--kill you."

She released herself with a cold laugh. "That sounds as though you were in earnest. But if I could return your love----"

"Ah!" he made a step towards her, trembling and breathing hard.

"One moment." She waved him back, and retreated herself to the window. "Supposing I could love you--what then?"

"I would--I would----" He flung out his hands with a sob. "What is your price?" he cried savagely.

"How crudely you put things!" said Lady Jim, coolly. "My price is your services, to be given blindly, and without question."

"And my reward?"

"Marriage with me."

Demetrius stared, and gazed at her with unaffected amazement. "You mock me," he said faintly.

"No, I am in earnest. It is true that I am not free now. But," she looked at him steadily, "you can make me so."

"Murder," whispered Demetrius, looking up and down the long, empty, chill gallery, and not at the Eve who was tempting him.

Leah blazed out into genuine rage. "What do you mean?" she cried, stamping her foot. "Not a hair of Jim's head shall be harmed."

"Then how--how----?"

"Sit down and listen," she said, pointing to a chair. "I have a deeper feeling for you than you think. No; leave my hand alone. We are now talking business."

"Business," echoed Demetrius, blankly.

Lady Jim nodded composedly. "The pleasure can come later. You have no money, no title, no position----"

"I can make money," he explained rapidly; "and I can take up again my title of Prince, which I dropped when I became a doctor. As the wife of a Russian noble----"

"You will have to make your peace with the Czar to get these things."

"I will do so."

"Through Mademoiselle Askakoff?"

"No; there are other ways. I am not worthy of Katinka----"

"And, therefore, think yourself worthy of me," said Lady Jim, calmly. "Thank you! There's nothing like being honest."

"But you do not understand----"

"Oh yes, I do. I understand that you can make me a cheap sort of princess, and in some way can give me money----"

"All that you require--as my wife."

"You must have the lamp of Aladdin, then," said Leah, with a shrug. "My capacity for spending will try even your finances. But at the present moment I have not a penny, neither has my husband."

"Well?" asked the doctor, anxiously.

Now that the plunge was made she found less difficulty in speaking plainly. Leaning towards him, till the perfume of her hair and the close neighbourhood of her whole gracious person nearly maddened him into seizing her in his arms, she proceeded rapidly. "My husband's life is insured for twenty thousand pounds. If you as a doctor can arrange to satisfy the insurance company of his death, so that we can get the money, he will disappear, and I, in the eyes of the world, shall be free to marry you."

"Do you mean that I should give him a drug, and----"

"No; I mean--Harold Garth."

"My peasant patient. Well?"

"How stupid you are," said Lady Jim, with unfeigned irritation. "This man Garth is very like Jim, and is apparently dying----"

"He can't live another two months."

"Then the matter is easily managed. Can't you see?"

"Yes," replied Demetrius, whose quick brain seized the feasibility of the scheme at once. "But will your husband give you up?"

Leah nodded, not wishing to be too explicit. "We have arranged that."

"And does he know that his disappearance means our marriage?"

"No! He thinks you are poor, and will do anything for money."

"Ah," said Demetrius, sarcastically. "Then the high-born nobleman does not credit me with being a gentleman?"

"What does it matter what he thinks?" said Lady Jim, impatiently. "We needn't trouble about him after he disappears. Can it be managed?"

"Yes, if you will promise to marry me when you are free and in possession of this money."

She gave him both hands. "I do promise."

He bent down and kissed them, passionately. "Consider it done."

"Without any scandal?"

"Assuredly. Listen! The Duke wishes to save the life of this Garth, because--he is fond of him."

"Yes, yes; I understand. Go on."

"I say to the Duke that a warm climate will work wonders," continued Demetrius, dramatically. "He will gladly consent, and with this Garth I go to----"

"To Nice, or Cannes, or----"

"No," said the doctor, sharply. "If I set foot on the Continent I may be captured by the secret police. I have no wish to take Garth with me to Siberia," he added sarcastically. "It is not a warm climate. The Azores--Madeira--Jamaica--Barbados--any such place, will make him better."

"I don't want him to be made better," said the other conspirator, naïvely.

"Leave that to me, madame. Garth will die as Garth, and be buried as Milor, your husband."

"No, no," said Leah, with a shudder. "I won't have murder."

"You are scrupulous," rejoined Demetrius, with a shrug. "But make your mind easy. Garth cannot live--he may die on the voyage----

"Or he may live for months."

Demetrius shrugged his shoulders again. "In that case, I may have to assist nature."

"No," said Leah, again, and very determinedly. "I could never spend the money with any pleasure if I thought that you--you assisted nature," she ended faintly, not liking to use a strong word.

The Russian looked at her with silent surprise. He could not understand why she should be scrupulous in one thing and not in another. She contemplated a fraud on the insurance company, and bigamistic marriage with him, so it was impossible to guess why she should object to the inclusion of a third crime.

"And it would scarcely be murder," said Demetrius, continuing his train of thought aloud. "He is so ill, this poor Garth, that the relief of death----"

"Don't," interrupted Leah, who both looked and felt pale. "I won't have it. Let the poor man die in peace. If he dies otherwise, I shall refuse to marry you."

"You may do that in any case," said the doctor grimly. "What hold have I over you?"

"There is no need for you to have any hold," said Lady Jim, wincing, and feeling that she had indeed delivered herself into the power of the enemy. "But if you think I will not keep my promise you are mistaken. I swear to marry you."

"Ah, well," said Demetrius, with a penetrating look. "If you do not marry me, you cannot marry another, since your husband will always be alive."

He spoke with slow significance.

"Oh, you make him out to be immortal also," said she, with an uneasy laugh; then felt the necessity of bringing this interview to a conclusion. "We must part now. It will not do for us to be seen talking together."

"I agree," said Demetrius, gravely; "your proposal alters our relations entirely. In society, I will speak to you little."

Lady Jim nodded, and put her handkerchief to her lips with a feeling of nausea. Now that her scheme was taking shape, its outlines appeared rather repulsive. To read of such a plot conceived and detailed by a dexterous author was amusing and stimulating; to engage in its execution meant worry, and a fearful ignorance as to what might happen, should things go awry. The same difference might be supposed to exist between Aldershot man[oe]uvres and a real battle. Theorising in criminality was easy; practice would be both difficult and dangerous.

Moreover, she might have to pay a very large price for the privilege of engaging in this questionable transaction. Demetrius would certainly exact his bond in genuine Shylock fashion. Needless to say, she had no intention of marrying him, and trusted to the providence of the peacock fetish to avoid the necessity though at the moment she saw no means whereby she could escape fulfilling her promise. This reflection almost made her draw back. As yet, she was not under the doctor's thumb, and could extricate herself even at this eleventh hour by denying everything, should he dare to speak out. But a second thought of her desperate need of money, a sordid vision of cheap hotels and ready-made frocks, a shuddering remembrance that the future, as it now stood, meant limited pocket-money and the everlasting boredom of Jim's society, turned the scale in favour of the venture. "Be bold! Be bold!" said the warning of the door in the old fairy tale, and Leah thought the advice worth taking. But she forgot the concluding words, "Be not too bold!"

"I leave details to you," she said to her companion, when they had concluded their nefarious bargain.

"Madame, I relieve you of all responsibility," said Demetrius, now quite his grave, restrained self. "But, should I tell the Duke that your husband is suffering from consumption, you will endorse my statement, I trust."

"Consumption? Jim? Oh, Lord, he's as healthy as a pig."

"He will not be if he takes a certain medicine," said the man, dryly.

Leah had a conscience, though for years it had been persistently snubbed into holding its peace. After all, Jim _was_ her husband, and she had no right to sanction tricks being played on his robust health. "You don't mean----" Her voice died away nervously.

"I mean business," Demetrius flashed out. "I love you, and I mean to win you. The price that you ask shall be paid."

"Without harm to Jim or this man Garth?"

"I swear it."

"In that case"--Leah extended her hand, to withdraw it suddenly before the Russian could rain kisses on its soft whiteness. A choking sensation, new to one of her superb health, made her gasp frantically after the breath which seemed to be leaving her. With unexpected force came a new sensation. This abominable playing with the lives and hearts of men stirred up to vehement protest a hitherto unknown better self which overwhelmed her with wave upon wave of reproachful shame. Conscience, uppermost for once in her greedy, selfish, animal life, stripped the contemplated sin of its allurements, and she recoiled before an inward vision of the horror her baser nature was creating. It might prove to her what the monster proved to Frankenstein, and haunt her with nightmare insistence for the remainder of an unbearable life.

"So weak, madame?" asked Demetrius, reading the secret handwriting on the wall like a very Daniel.

The sneer nerved her, and she strove desperately to escape from the light of heaven into the material darkness, that would not reveal her sin, unclothed and shameless. "No!" she cried in a loud, ringing voice. "I--I----" Again the celestial light mercilessly and mercifully disclosed the inward foulness of that fair-seeming sin, and the sight beat down her pride and courage into nothingness. "I take it all back," she stuttered, broken-up and panic-struck. "Forget--don't move in--in----" Something clicked in her throat, and only by a violent effort did she repress the climbing hysteria. Incapable of speech, and only anxious to escape from this extraordinary influence, which compelled her to face the powers of darkness in their naked horror, she passed swiftly down the long, echoing gallery. Not till she was safe in her own room did she halt, to consider why she had fled. Her brain was now clear, and the actual world resumed its wonted aspect. Her face was still white, her lips still quivered, her soul was still shaken by the visitation. But, with a courage worthy of a better cause, she sat down and fought with her fears, till the colour returned and the nerves came under control. Yet her material nature could not grasp that the terrible gift of the interior sight had been hers for one short moment.

"I'm a fool!" she assured herself harshly.

And she was. For, as the walls of the flesh closed round her soul, to darken it anew, her good angel, who had wrought the miracle, weeping for the blind that would not see and the deaf that would not hear, left her despairingly. Then the powers of darkness soothed her into such contentment, that she laughed scornfully at her late folly, and adopted their explanation.

"I'm run down with all this worry," said Lady Jim. "I really need a tonic."