“What a change from the coy, demure, modest, bashful girl of a few weeks ago,” he said. “Caroline, my dear, I'll wager there isn't a harlot, courtesan or whore in the land who is your equal when you are in the heat of passion, and yet you retain that air of convent-bred bashfulness and modesty,” he said, laughing loudly.
As he started to the bath to cleanse himself, the air was rent with a series of piercing feminine shrieks. The two stood for a moment in consternation at the unearthly outcries, which seemed to come from some maiden in dire distress. Suddenly Roxboro was galvanized into action. Leaping to the door, he stepped into the hall, noted that the sounds were coming from the rear part of the house, and sped down the stairs. As he came to a rear room, he noted a man clambering through a half-opened window with Carl, the stableboy, valiantly endeavoring to prevent the escape. Dashing to the fray, Roxboro seized the man by one leg and, with the help of Carl, unceremoniously hauled him back into the room. At this juncture the gardener also came running. Instructing the two domestics to hold the man, Roxboro repaired to his study, where he secured a revolver, and returned to the scene of the confusion. Pointing his weapon at the intruder, he commanded the servants to step back out of range. The housekeeper coming in at this point gasped, “That's him! Why, my lord, he actually tried to rape Marie in her boudoir; he was going to diddle her!”
“Aha, a rape, my young jackanapes!” cried Roxboro fiercely, and Carl and the gardener started forward as though to give the fellow his just deserts, but the lord waved them back.
The stranger was a rather attractive young fellow, loudly attired in garish clothes, but not unprepossessing. He seemed very much in command of himself and was apparently not put out in the slightest by the hullabaloo which he had occasioned. Dusting off his clothing, he rearranged his disheveled attire in a matter-of-fact manner. Raising his white and well-manicured hand, he twirled his mustache and coolly surveyed his captors.
“Well, my lad, who are you and what are you doing here?” demanded Roxboro.
“Pardon me, sir; I seem to have startled your people,” replied the man in a cultured voice. “I trust that in my somewhat hasty and informal though unsuccessful retreat, I have not harmed the window sash. I must admit I appear in rather a bad light; as the worthy dame remarked, it smacks of an attempted rape but-spare my blushes-please do not attribute such an unworthy action to me; by the bones and joints of my worthy ancestors, I swear that the girl, Marie, is my legally wedded wife and that I and others have been searching for her over a long period of time. That explanation may change the complexion of this interesting tableau in which I appear.”
“What!” cried Roxboro upon hearing this, in his perturbation almost dropping the weapon. Waving at the astonished and gaping slaves, he motioned them to withdraw, saying as he did so, “I'll take care of this. Retire, all of you.” Still pointing his pistol at the intruder, however, he remarked, “By Jove! Well, upon my soul-Marie's husband! Fancy that, now!” For a moment he was nonplussed and hardly knew what course to pursue. Suppose the man's tale were true- suppose, on the other hand, he were lying in order to extricate himself from a tight spot. The man seated himself and seemed at perfect ease, undisturbed by the march of events.
“I wish you would put away that beastly thing that you are so uncertainly pointing in my direction; it might inadvertently go off and tear a large, irregular aperture in my anatomy, which would prove very distressing to us both.”
“Never mind,” the lord replied. “How do I know you are what you say? I warn you, young man, you have plenty of explaining to do and possibly you may end the evening in the hands of the police.”
“There you are, sir; even as you say, the girl may or may not be my wife. Who knows?” coolly replied the stranger.
“That is important to the issue, of course, but at the same time, my lad, remember this: wife or no wife, it does not give you the right to forcibly enter my domicile. You may not be aware that you are talking to Lord Roxboro, eh?”
The mention of his name produced no visible effect upon the stranger, only causing him to smile in an enigmatic manner, as he merely acknowledged that he was aware of his lordship's identity. Producing some papers, he said, “In my coat you will find more documents to prove my identity. Perhaps you had better call in my wife; the sooner this is done, the sooner we can clear the matter up, and end this little farce.” Roxboro stepped to the door and opened it quickly, thus upsetting the housekeeper whom he found with her ear glued to the keyhole.
“Hussy! Be off and fetch Marie, and also go and tell Caroline to descend to the sitting room and remain with Freda until I send for her.”
The housekeeper sped away upon her errand, and his lordship, after allowing a suitable interval to elapse, motioned to the stranger to ascend the staircase. Once within the library, the lord seated himself across from the fellow and said curtly:
“Now, my fine fellow, I am going to give you an opportunity to prove your claim. You say you are Marie's husband, that you have documentary evidence of your marriage. Well, produce it. But even so, and not withstanding, that will not prove sufficient excuse for your unwarrantable intrusion.”
The young man fumbled about his person and, obtaining some papers, threw them upon the table. Roxboro scanned them carefully, satisfying himself that they bore out the young man's claim. “Mr. Montgomery, eh? Well, sir, you are not exactly a person of lily-white character; when your wife came here, I took the liberty of investigating her references and I find that you, as a husband, have been somewhat of an indifferent success. And besides, I have knowledge that you are in demand by the police and have been several times in your life!”
The man visibly paled and his hands fidgeted nervously. Roxboro, seeing his advantage, waved his pistol and continued: “Young man, you have been apprehended red-handed in an attempt to enter and burglarize this mansion, and upon my word! I shall have you cast into jail and I assure you that your past record when taken into consideration will add materially to your sentence. Now, young man, what have you to say for yourself?”
The chap made a wry face and said, “Well, you seem to have me there! My wife is an artful baggage; I'll wager she has told you some of the experiences I have had, else how could you have come into possession of the knowledge you seem to have?”
“Sir!” replied Roxboro. “Your wife, as you call her, has told me nothing; she is merely employed here. Judging from the rather unusual method in which you sought to gain entrance to see her, it would appear that her life with you was not altogether pleasant. I think that it would perhaps be better for all concerned if you were forthwith turned over to the local constabulary.”
“Well, you've got me,” replied the man shortly. “I simply can't afford to be taken as my previous record would be against me. However, if you would permit me to leave, I promise you that I will annoy you no further and you will never again see me about the place. It will do you no good to turn me over, and once I am gone, it will be as if nothing had ever happened.”
Many ideas were passing through Roxboro's mind as he sat and considered this proposition. He remembered what Marie had told him of this man's lustful cruelty and strange mannerisms; the man was now in his power and he determined to at least satisfy his curiosity.
“I think I shall turn you over to the constable; prison is the best place for people of your type. It is a duty that I owe to the country at large to see that such men as yourself are placed in the proper place to restrain their activities.”