"Did you hear what I said?" Grace inquired, while the messenger was
absent in the dining room.
"I will answer you directly," said Julian.
The servant appeared again as he spoke, with some lines in pencil
written by Lady Janet on the back of Julian's note. "Thank God, we have
revived her. In a few minutes we hope to be able to take her to her
room."
The nearest way to Mercy's room was through the library. Grace's
immediate removal had now become a necessity which was not to be trifled
with. Julian addressed himself to meeting the difficulty the instant he
was left alone with Grace.
"Listen to me," he said. "The cab is waiting, and I have my last words
to say to you. You are now (thanks to the consul's recommendation) in my
care. Decide at once whether you will remain under my charge, or whether
you will transfer yourself to the charge of the police."
Grace started. "What do you mean?" she asked, angrily.
"If you wish to remain under my charge," Julian proceeded, "you will
accompany me at once to the cab. In that case I will undertake to give
you an opportunity of telling your story to my own lawyer. He will be a
fitter person to advise you than I am. Nothing will induce we to believe
that the lady whom you have accused has committed, or is capable of
committing, such a fraud as you charge her with. You will hear what
the lawyer thinks, if you come with me. If you refuse, I shall have no
choice but to send into the next room, and tell them that you are still
here. The result will be that you will find yourself in charge of the
police. Take which course you like: I will give you a minute to decide
in. And remember this--if I appear to express myself harshly, it is your
conduct which forces me to speak out. I mean kindly toward you; I am
advising you honestly for your good."
He took out his watch to count the minute.
Grace stole one furtive glance at his steady, resolute face. She was
perfectly unmoved by the manly consideration for her which Julian's last
words had expressed. All she understood was that he was not a man to be
trifled with. Future opportunities would offer themselves of returning
secretly to the house. She determined to yield--and deceive him.
"I am ready to go," she said, rising with dogged submission. "Your turn
now," she muttered to herself, as she turned to the looking-glass to
arrange her shawl. "My turn will come."
Julian advanced toward her, as if to offer her his arm, and checked
himself. Firmly persuaded as he was that her mind was deranged--readily
as he admitted that she claimed, in virtue of her affliction, every
indulgence that he could extend to her--there was something repellent
to him at that moment in the bare idea of touching her. The image of the
beautiful creature who was the object of her monstrous accusation--the
image of Mercy as she lay helpless for a moment in his arms--was vivid
in his mind while he opened the door that led into the hall, and drew
back to let Grace pass out before him. He left the servant to help her
into the cab. The man respectfully addressed him as he took his seat
opposite to Grace.