You foresee the end, no doubt. The too susceptible diplomat was infatuated by Mile. Bishop's beauty and skill. He wished to meet her, and I, who obligingly confessed that I had had some transactions with her father, undertook to secure the lady's permission to present him to her.
I did secure it, of course, although not without considerable opposition on the part of all three of the family; for circus people are very straightlaced. However, by severely straining my purse and my imagination, I convinced them that they would be doing both a friendly and a profitable act by participating in the little drama that I had planned. Eventually they consented to aid me in discomfiting the diplomat, whom I represented as having in his possession some legal papers that really belonged to me, although I could not prove my claim to them.
You will pardon me if I pass over the events of the next few days and plunge directly into a scene which occurred one night, about a week later, the very night, in fact, on which the Bishops were to close their engagement with the little circus in which they were playing. It was in the sitting-room of the diplomat's suite at the hotel that the scene took place; dinner a deux was in progress and the diplomat's guest was Mile. Bishop, who had indiscreetly accepted the Englishman's invitation.
Came a knock at the door. Mademoiselle grew pale.
"My husband!" she exclaimed.
Mademoiselle was right. It was her husband who entered very cold, very business-like, and carrying a riding crop in his hand. He glanced at the man and woman in the room.
"I suspected something of the sort," he said, in a quiet voice. "You are indiscreet, Madame. You do not conceal your infidelities with care." He took a step towards her, but paused at an exclamation from the Englishman.
"Do not fear, Monsieur" elaborate irony was in his voice as he addressed the diplomat "I shall not harm you. It is with this lady only that I am concerned. She has, it appears, an inadequate conception of her wifely duty. I must, therefore, give her a lesson." As he spoke he tapped his boot suggestively with his riding whip.
"My only regret," he continued politely, "is that I must detain you as a witness of a painful scene, and possibly cause a disturbance in your room."
Again he turned towards his wife, who had sat watching him with a terrified face. Now as he approached her she burst into tears, and ran to where the Englishman stood.
"He is going to beat me," she sobbed. "Help me, for Heaven's sake! Stop him! Give him give him anything!"
But the Englishman did not need to be coached.
"Look here!" he cried suddenly, interposing between the husband and wife. "I'll give you fifty pounds to get out of here quietly. Good God, man, you can't do a thing like this, you know! It's horrible. And you have no cause. I give you my word you have no cause."
He was a pitiable mixture of shame and apprehension as he spoke. But Merrill looked at him calmly. He was quite unmoved and still polite when he replied:
"The word of a gentleman, I suppose! No, Monsieur, it is useless to try to bribe me. It is a great mistake, in fact. Almost" he paused for a moment, as if he found it difficult to continue "almost it makes me angry."
He was silent for a space, but when he spoke again it was as if in response to an idea that had come to him.
"Yes," he continued, "it does make me angry. Nevertheless, Monsieur, I shall accept your suggestion. Madame and I will leave quietly, and in return you shall give us oh, not money but something that you value very much."
He turned to his wife.
"Madame, you will go to Monsieur's trunk, which is open in the corner, and remove every article so that I can see it."
The Englishman started. For a moment it seemed as if he would attack Merrill, who was the smaller man, but fear of the noise held him back. Meanwhile, the woman was rifling the trunk, holding up each object for her husband's inspection. The latter stood at the door, his eyes upon both of the others.
"We are not interested in Monsieur's clothing," he said calmly. "What else is there in the trunk? Nothing? The desk then! Only some papers? That is a pity. Let me have them, however all of them. And you may give me the portfolio that lies on the bureau."
As he took the packet the rider turned to the diplomat, who stood as if paralysed in the corner of the room.
"I do not know what is in these papers, Monsieur, but I judge from your agitation that they are valuable. I shall take them from you as a warning a warning to let married women alone in future. Also I warn you not to try to bribe a man whom you have injured. You have made me very angry to-night by doing so.
"Above all," he added, "I warn you not to complain to the police about this matter. This is not a pretty story to tell about a man in your position and I am prepared to tell it. Good night, Monsieur!"
He did not wait to hear the Englishman's reply.