The Great Impersonation, E. Phillips Oppenheim [finding audrey TXT] 📗

meetings. I have made myself a nuisance to the House of Lords and the Press. It is a terrible thing to realise how hard it is to make an Englishman reflect, so long as he is making money and having a good time.⁠—You are just back from Africa, Everard?”

“Within a week, sir.”

“Did you see anything of the Germans out there? Were you anywhere near their Colony?”

“I have been in touch with them for some years,” Dominey replied.

“Most interesting!” his questioner exclaimed. “You may be of service to us, Everard. You may, indeed! Now tell me, isn’t it true that they have secret agents out there, trying to provoke unsettlement and disquiet amongst the Boers? Isn’t it true that they apprehend a war with England before very long and are determined to stir up the Colony against us?”

“I am very sorry,” Dominey replied, “but I am not a politician in any shape or form. All the Germans whom I have met out there seem a most peaceful race of men, and there doesn’t seem to be the slightest discontent amongst the Boers or anyone else.”

The Duke’s face fell. “This is very surprising.”

“The only people who seem to have any cause for discontent,” Dominey continued, “are the English settlers. I didn’t commence to do any good myself there till a few years ago, but I have heard some queer stories about the way our own people were treated after the war.”

“What you say about South Africa, Sir Everard,” the young soldier remarked, “is naturally interesting, but I am bound to say that it is in direct opposition to all I have heard.”

“And I,” the Duke echoed fervently.

“I have lived there for the last eleven years,” Dominey continued, “and although I spent the earlier part of that time trekking after big game, lately I am bound to confess that every thought and energy I possess have been centered upon moneymaking. For that reason, perhaps, my observations may have been at fault. I shall claim the privilege of coming to one of your first meetings, Duke, and of trying to understand this question.”

His august connection blinked at him a little curiously for a moment behind his glasses.

“My dear Everard,” he said, “forgive my remarking it, but I find you more changed than I could have believed possible.”

“Everard is changed in more ways than one,” his wife observed, with faint irony.

Dominey, who had risen to leave, bent over her hand.

“What about my dinner party, sir?” she added.

“As soon as I return from Norfolk,” he replied.

“Dominey Hall will really find you?” she asked a little curiously.

“Most certainly!”

There was again that little flutter of fear in her eyes, followed by a momentary flash of admiration. Dominey shook hands gravely with his host and nodded to Bertram. The servant whom the Duchess had summoned stood holding the curtains on one side.

“I shall hope to see you again shortly, Duke,” Dominey said, as he completed his leave-taking. “There is a little matter of business to be adjusted between us. You will probably hear from Mr. Mangan in a day or two.”

The Duke gazed after the retreating figure of this very amazing visitor. When the curtains had fallen he turned to his wife.

“A little matter of business,” he repeated. “I hope you have explained to Everard, my dear, that although, of course, we are very glad to see him back again, it is absolutely hopeless for him to look to me for any financial assistance at the present moment.”

Caroline smiled.

“Everard was alluding to the money he already owes you,” she explained. “He intends to repay it at once. He is also paying off the Dominey mortgages. He has apparently made a fortune in Africa.”

The Duke collapsed into an easy-chair.

“Everard pay his debts?” he exclaimed. “Everard Dominey pay off the mortgages?”

“That is what I understand,” his wife acquiesced.

The Duke clutched at the last refuge of a weak but obstinate man. His mouth came together like a rattrap.

“There’s something wrong about it somewhere,” he declared.

VI

Dominey spent a very impatient hour that evening in his sitting-room at the Carlton, waiting for Seaman. It was not until nearly seven that the latter appeared.

“Are you aware,” Dominey asked him, “that I am expected to call upon the Princess Eiderstrom at seven o’clock?”

“I have your word for it,” Seaman replied, “but I see no tragedy in the situation. The Princess is a woman of sense and a woman of political insight. While I cannot recommend you to take her entirely into your confidence, I still think that a middle course can be judiciously pursued.”

“Rubbish!” Dominey exclaimed. “As Leopold Von Ragastein, the Princess has indisputable claims upon me and my liberty, claims which would altogether interfere with the career of Everard Dominey.”

With methodical neatness, Seaman laid his hat, gloves and walking stick upon the sideboard. He then looked into the connecting bedroom, closed and fastened the door and extended himself in an easy-chair.

“Sit opposite to me, my friend,” he said. “We will talk together.”

Dominey obeyed a little sullenly. His companion, however, ignored his demeanour.

“Now, my friend,” he said, beating upon the palm of one hand with the forefinger of his other, “I am a man of commerce and I do things in a business way. Let us take stock of our position. Three months ago this very week, we met by appointment at a certain hotel in Cape Town.”

“Only three months,” Dominey muttered.

“We were unknown to one another,” Seaman continued. “I had only heard of the Baron Von Ragastein as a devoted German citizen and patriot, engaged in an important enterprise in East Africa by special intercession of the Kaiser, on account of a certain unfortunate happening in Hungary.”

“I killed a man in a duel,” Dominey said slowly, with his eyes fixed upon his companion’s. “It was not an unforgivable act.”

“There are duels and duels. A fight between two young men, in defence of the honour of or to gain the favour of a young lady in their own station of life,