Michael Dun - 29. Chapter 29

Lord Granville, in the comfort of his office overlooking St. James' Park, finished reading Michael's letter. The news was distressing; if, what he had read was true, Sir Robert was in grave danger. But it was of such a nature that he did not quite know what to do or say to Sir Robert. He was not a well man, and such news about his wife may or may not kill him. However, it was a risk he had to take.

He noticed the gardens of Laburnum needed maintenance; the courtyard was quiet with a few servants lingering about.

Montgomery, poised gracefully, led him into the large waiting room and within a few moments Sir Robert joined him.

"You say you have news of my son, how is he?" Sir Robert asked.

"Under the circumstances, Sir Robert, he is in grave danger and he has asked us to warn you of a conspiracy within these very walls."

"A conspiracy? Why on earth would anyone take the trouble?"

"Sir, this person has hired an assassin and has killed several men in the Republic of the Transvaal. It certainly seems that your son is one of those targets."

"But who on earth would dare?"

"Your wife, Sir. Lady Gwendolyn."

"My...my wife? She is a sweet and innocent dear. Why drag her into this? "

"She has hired a man to kill your son, she will probably do the same for you. As a friend, Sir Robert, I must tell you that you are not looking well. You need a good physician. Apart from that, you are in grave danger."

"Danger? She loves everything and speaks kind words about everyone. Do you wish to take this to her personally?"

"I thought it best we keep this to ourselves."

Sir Robert pointed an accusing finger at him, "I could not agree with you more, Lord Granville. Now please get out, you have insulted me in my own home, and I am offended...I should put forth a grievance against you if you were not a friend."

"Sir, please listen to me, I am willing to offer you a place of safety. It is for your own good, and we shall have one of our own doctors examine you. I implore you, before you make your decision, come with us to a doctor to find out what has happened to you?"

 *

The road seemed endless as the town came into view. Rest was needed by all that shared the journey. Some slept about the carriage, some booked into a hotel, others, like Gordon, kept to a territory far from the others. He lit a fire and the embers flamed into the sky. He relaxed on a rock and drank whiskey from a silver demijohn, then he covered himself with a woolen blanket.

A face suddenly appeared in the soft red glow of the firelight and Gordon leaped up.

"Do not be alarmed. We are travelling together. I noticed you walk this way to set down for the night. You are far from the others..."

"Do not care for the company of strangers, sir."

"My name is Gregory Pienaar. I am going to Cape Town." He extended a hand. Gordon hesitated then acknowledged him.

"Gordon Atkinson. I am headed for England."

"Are you from the goldfields?"

"Yes. Did not make it I am afraid. What about you?"

"I too have been unsuccessful in my quest for gold.

“Lost everything, every pound I ever had. Gone. Turning away from this has been hard for me."

"Nothing could be this bad." Gordon poked at the embers of the fire with a long stick.

"Nothing? He shifted closer to Gordon. "Working in a mine shaft is worse, surely?"

"I can think of many things worse than this, but I can assure you, only one thing is worse than everything else. Death."

"It is a coincidence that you speak of death as being a terrible thing. How would you know when you have yet to experience it. Some people say it is a delightful experience."

"I have something for you about death, Mr. Pienaar. A writer by the name of Thomas de Quincy wrote that murder, as an art form, can be quite beautiful."

"He did, did he...?"

*

Sir Robert thought deeply about the circumstance he was in: He had to ascertain whether Lord Granville was lying. He certainly seemed to be very sure of himself. It is easy to lie in the written word, but man to man, that is hardest. Lord Granville was sincere and forthcoming. On the other hand, Madelyn was negative most of the time. How on earth could she have resorted to this perfidy, a treachery of the worst kind, where the act of deceit and betrayal was a slow, eating thing that eventually swallowed up entire lives? His son was right after all, she loved money, and she was taking the family down. On Monday afternoon he sent word to Sir Robert that he would undergo a medical examination. Then he wrote a note to Madelyn, requesting her presence at dinner that afternoon.

As always she entered after Sir Robert and took her place at the table. She had her hair in a bun off the forehead, which made her look taller, a low-neck evening dress and a rare string of fresh water pearl hung about her neck, adding a material pompousness to her character. He commented that she looked radiant, but refrained from foraying further. She looked at Montgomery and flicked her eyes, indicating that dinner should be served immediately.

"No wine, my dear?"

"I have an awful headache, Robert. I am tired and wish to retire early."

"You went out today."

"Yes, to purchase an evening dress."

"Well, I dare say you must have done other things. You were gone for quite some time. Michael has written." He said.

"Oh, how is he? Is Africa as romantic and adventurous as he believed?"

"He is not well. Not well."

"Is he ill?"

"No. He is of the opinion that someone is trying to kill him."

A fluffy silence descended upon them. Lady Gwendolyn shifted uneasily in his chair.

"Has he informed the authorities?" She asked.

"I am sure he has, my dear."

"Well then, they will surely sort out the problem. I am suddenly not hungry. Montgomery, do escort me to my room."

"That will not be necessary Montgomery. In fact, you may dismiss the servants and remain, please."

The servants filed out and closed the doors of the dining room behind them. Then he returned to the main table and stood beside Sir Robert.

"I have agreed to a medical examination and I do not wish the staff to panic. I will be gone for a few days. Montgomery, please prepare my carriage."

"What is wrong with our dear doctor Lewis?" Madelyn asked. "He has served us well. Robert, you are simply overreacting to a small problem. Besides, Dr. Lewis has been our physician for so many years. He shall tell you what to do."

"No! I want a second opinion and that is what I shall get! Now leave, both of you, before I have a heart attack."

Madelyn's mouth was dry, and she trembled all over. She closed her eyes for moment, then two quick knocks announced a visitor. Cecelia entered. She sat on the edge of the bed and caressed Madelyn's hair with a finger.

Madelyn's voice was brittle, like firewood, “He intends to get a second medical opinion about his condition."

Cecelia insisted that a second medical opinion must never take place.

"Then you fully understand what you must do?" Madelyn asked.

"Yes, the needle is ready."

"Then do it." Madelyn instructed.