Chapter 98 - Behind a Mask, or a Woman's Power

"'Thee told me you were dead?' And you were glad to believe it? No, it was my young comrade, Courtney, who unconsciously deceived you all, and lost his life, as I should have done if I had not gone to Ascot after seeing him off yesterday." "'To Ascot?' echoed Jean, shrinking back, for Edward's eye was on her, and his voice was stern and cold. "'Yes, you know the place. I went there to make inquiries concerning you, and was well satisfied. Why are you still here?' "'The three days are not over yet. I hold you to your promise. Before night I shall be gone. Till then you will be silent, if you have honour enough to keep your word.' "'I have.' Edward took out his watch, and as he put it back, said with cool precision, "'It is now two. The train leaves for London at half-past six. A carriage will wait for you at the side door. Allow me to advise you to go then, for the instant dinner is over, I shall speak.' And with a bow he went into the house, leaving Jean nearly suffocated with a throng of contending emotions. For a few minutes she seemed paralyzed, but the native energy of the woman forbade utter despair till the last hope was gone. Frail as that now was, she still clung to it tenaciously, resolving to win the game in defiance of everything. Springing up, she went to her room, packed her few valuables, dressed herself with care, and then sat down to wait. She heard a joyful stir below, saw Coventry come hurrying back, and from a garrulous maid learned that the body was of young Courtney. The uniform being the same as Edward's, and the ring, a gift from him, had caused the men to believe the disfigured corpse to be that of the younger Coventry. No one but the maid came near her. Once Bella's voice called her, but someone checked the girl, and the call was not repeated. At five an envelope was brought her, directed in Edward's hand, and containing a check which more than paid a year's salary. No word accompanied the gift, yet the generosity of it touched her, for Jean Muir had the relics of a once honest nature, and, despite her falsehood, could still admire nobleness and respect virtue.