"You dared to lock the door!" she exclaimed, a sudden fear chilling her heart as she remembered similar manoeuvres on the part of the Reverend Mr. Dyceworthy--then another thought crossed her mind, and she began to retreat towards a large painted panel of "Venus" disporting among cupids and dolphins in the sea. Sir Francis sprang to her side, and caught her arm in an iron grip--his face was aflame with baffled spite and vindictiveness.
"Yes, I dared!" he muttered with triumphant malice. "And I dared do more than that! You lay unconscious in my arms,--you beautiful, bewitching Thelma, and I kissed you--ay! fifty times! You can never undo those kisses! You can never forget that my lips, as well as your husband's, have rested on yours--I have had that much joy that shall never be taken away from me! And if I choose, even now,"--and he gripped her more closely--"yes, even now I will kiss you, in spite of you!--who is to prevent me? I will force you to love me, Thelma--"
Driven to bay, she struck him with all her force in the face, across the eyes.
"Traitor!--liar!--coward!" she gasped breathlessly. "Let me go!"
Smarting with the pain of the blow, he unconsciously loosened his grasp--she rushed to the "Venus" panel, and to his utter discomfiture and amazement he saw it open and close behind her. She disappeared suddenly and noiselessly as if by magic. With a fierce exclamation, he threw his whole weight against that secret sliding door--it resisted all his efforts. He searched for the spring by which it must have opened,--the whole panel was perfectly smooth and apparently solid, and the painted "Venus" reclining on her dolphin's back seemed as though she smiled mockingly at his rage and disappointment.
While he was examining it, he heard the sudden, sharp, and continuous ringing of an electric bell somewhere in the house, and with a guilty flush on his face he sprang to the drawing-room door and unlocked it. He was just in time, for scarcely had he turned the key, when Morris made his appearance. That venerable servitor looked round the room in evident surprise.
"Did her ladyship ring?" he inquired, his eyes roving everywhere in search of his mistress. Sir Francis collected his wits, and forced himself to seem composed.
"No," he said coolly. "I rang." He adopted this falsehood as a means of exit. "Call a hansom, will you?"
And he sauntered easily into the hall, and got on his hat and great-coat. Morris was rather bewildered,--but, obedient to the command, blew the summoning cab-whistle, which was promptly answered. Sir Francis tossed him half a crown, and entered the vehicle, which clattered away with him in the direction of Cromwell Road. Stopping at a particular house in a side street leading from thence, he bade the cabman wait,--and, ascending the steps, busied himself for some moments in scribbling something rapidly in pencil on a leaf of his note-book by the light of the hanging-lamp in the doorway. He then gave a loud knock, and inquired of the servant who answered it-"Is Mr. Snawley-Grubbs in?"