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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Swirling Waters, by Max Rittenberg
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Swirling Waters
+
+Author: Max Rittenberg
+
+Release Date: July 8, 2006 [EBook #18789]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SWIRLING WATERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SWIRLING WATERS
+
+
+BY THE SAME AUTHOR
+
+THE MIND-READER, BEING SOME PAGES FROM THE LIFE OF DR XAVIER WYCHERLEY,
+PSYCHOLOGIST AND MENTAL HEALER.
+
+THE COCKATOO.
+
+
+
+
+SWIRLING WATERS
+
+BY
+
+MAX RITTENBERG
+
+AUTHOR OF
+"THE MIND-READER," "THE COCKATOO," ETC.
+
+SECOND EDITION
+
+METHUEN & CO. LTD.
+36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
+LONDON
+
+
+
+
+First Published    July 3rd 1913
+Second Edition     August   1913
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+MY DEAR MOTHER
+
+WHOSE ADVICE AND CRITICISM HAVE HELPED SO
+GREATLY IN MY WORK, AND ESPECIALLY IN THE
+MAKING OF THIS BOOK; WHOSE COMPANIONSHIP
+HAS BEEN A CONSTANT INSPIRATION TO ME
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAP.                                                               PAGE
+
+     I. The Whirlpool                                                  1
+
+    II. A L5,000,000 Deal                                              7
+
+   III. Shadowed                                                      17
+
+    IV. On the Scent of a Mystery                                     19
+
+     V. The First Move in the Game                                    29
+
+    VI. The Beginning of a New Life                                   42
+
+   VII. A Seat by the Arena                                           50
+
+  VIII. Who and where is Riviere?                                     61
+
+    IX. At Monte Carlo                                                69
+
+     X. Larssen turns another Corner                                  73
+
+    XI. A Letter From Riviere                                         83
+
+   XII. The Second Meeting                                            87
+
+  XIII. At the Maison Carree                                         100
+
+   XIV. By the Druids' Tower                                         107
+
+    XV. Waiting the Verdict                                          111
+
+   XVI. Only Pity!                                                   123
+
+  XVII. Riviere is Called Back                                       127
+
+ XVIII. Not Wanted!                                                  138
+
+   XIX. A Throne-Room                                                148
+
+    XX. Beaten to Earth                                              153
+
+   XXI. The Bolted Door                                              171
+
+  XXII. The Chameleon Mind                                           184
+
+ XXIII. Larssen's Man Once Again                                     197
+
+  XXIV. Confession                                                   205
+
+   XXV. White Lilac                                                  216
+
+  XXVI. A Challenge                                                  221
+
+ XXVII. Women's Weapons                                              225
+
+XXVIII. The Counter-Move                                             235
+
+  XXIX. The Parting                                                  247
+
+   XXX. Heir to a Throne                                             254
+
+  XXXI. The Reins had Slipped                                        264
+
+ XXXII. The New Scheme                                               273
+
+XXXIII. Larssen's Appeal                                             278
+
+ XXXIV. On Board the "Starlight"                                     285
+
+  XXXV. Intervention                                                 297
+
+ XXXVI. Finality                                                     304
+
+        Epilogue                                                     311
+
+
+
+
+SWIRLING WATERS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE WHIRLPOOL
+
+
+On the crucial night of his career, 14 March, 191-, Clifford Matheson,
+financier, was speeding in a taxi-cab to the Gare de Lyon.
+
+He was a clean-limbed man of thirty-seven. There was usually a look of
+masterfulness in the firm lines of his face, the straight, direct
+glance, the stiff, close-cut moustache. But to-night his eyes were
+tired, very tired. He leant back in a corner of the cab with drooping
+shoulders as though utterly world-weary.
+
+At the station his wife and father-in-law were looking impatiently for
+his arrival. They stood at the door of their _wagon-lit_ in the Cote
+d'Azur Rapide, searching the crowded platform for him. It was now ten to
+eight, and the express was timed to pull out of the Gare de Lyon at
+eight o'clock sharp.
+
+"Late again!" growled Sir Francis Letchmere. "Clifford makes a deuced
+casual sort of husband. Bad form, you know!"
+
+Good form and bad form were the foot-rules by which he measured mankind.
+
+Olive bit her lip. It galled her pride that Clifford should not be
+early on the platform to see to her comforts. The attentions of her
+father and maid did not satisfy her; she wanted Clifford to be there to
+fetch and carry for her.
+
+Pride was the keynote of her character. It was pride and not love that
+had decided her, five years before, to marry the financier. She had
+admired the way in which he had slashed out for himself his place in the
+world of London and Paris finance, from his humble beginning as a clerk
+in a Montreal broker's office. It ministered to her pride to be the wife
+of a man who had plucked success from the whirlpool of life. As to the
+methods by which he had amassed his money, with these she was not
+concerned. She knew, of course, that there were many who had bitter
+things to say about his methods.
+
+"Probably it's his brother who's delayed him," said Olive, looking for
+an explanation which would salve her _amour propre_. "They both seem to
+be crazy over their rubbishy scientific experiments."
+
+"Who's this brother?"
+
+"I know scarcely anything about him. His name's Riviere--he's a
+half-brother. He turns up unexpectedly from the wilds of Canada, and
+lives like a hermit, so Clifford tells me, in some tumbledown villa
+outside Paris."
+
+"What's he like?"
+
+"I've never seen him."
+
+"What's the scientific experiment?"
+
+"Clifford told me something about it, but I forgot. I wasn't interested
+in the slightest. No money in it, I could see at once. I told Clifford
+so."
+
+Sir Francis tugged at his watch impatiently. "He'll miss this train for
+certain!"
+
+"No; there he is!"
+
+Matheson was striding rapidly through the press of people on the
+platform. He quickly caught sight of his wife and father-in-law, and
+came up with a gesture of apology.
+
+"Sorry I'm so late. Very sorry, too, I shan't be able to travel with you
+to-night."
+
+"Experiment to finish?" queried Olive, with an unconcealed note of
+contempt in her voice.
+
+"A very important business engagement for this evening. Will you excuse
+me? I can follow to-morrow."
+
+"Can't it wait?"
+
+"It's highly important."
+
+"There's the 'phone to speak over."
+
+"I have to come face to face with my man. Surely, Olive, you can spare
+me for a day? Have you everything you want for the journey?"
+
+"Who is the man?"
+
+"Lars Larssen," answered Matheson. He lowered his voice slightly, though
+on the bustling railway platform there was no likelihood of anyone
+listening to the conversation.
+
+Sir Francis nodded his head. He was heavily interested in
+company-promoting himself, as a means of swelling an inadequate property
+income, and Lars Larssen was a magic name.
+
+"Hudson Bay scheme?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, business before pleasure," he remarked sententiously.
+
+Olive cut in with a question. "Have you finished your experiments with
+your brother?"
+
+"No," answered Matheson evenly.
+
+"When will they be finished?"
+
+"I can't say. There's a great deal to be discussed and planned."
+
+"Then bring him with you to-morrow. You can plan together whatever it is
+you have to plan at Monte. Besides, I want to see him."
+
+"John is a busy man," protested Matheson. "I don't think he can leave
+his laboratory."
+
+"Give him my invitation, and make it a pressing one," pursued Olive,
+careless of anything but her own whim. "Tell him--tell him I
+particularly want him to explain his experiments to me himself."
+
+At this moment the little horn of departure sounded its quaint note from
+the end of the platform, and a porter hurried to lock the door of the
+_wagon-lit_.
+
+"Have you everything you want for the journey?" asked Matheson.
+
+"I have everything I want," replied his wife coldly. "My father has seen
+to that.... Good-bye."
+
+She did not offer to kiss him, and he for his part drew back into a
+shell of reserve. Many thoughts were buzzing through his mind as they
+exchanged the commonplaces of a railway station good-bye from either
+side of a compartment window.
+
+Olive's last words were: "Remember, I'm expecting you to bring your
+brother with you to-morrow."
+
+A very tired look was in Matheson's eyes, and a weary droop on his
+shoulders, as the train pulled out and he was left alone on the
+platform.
+
+Two Frenchmen whispered to one another about him. "The milord Matheson,
+see you! The very rich milord Matheson."
+
+"Ah, if I were only a rich man too!"
+
+"What would you do?"
+
+"I should _spend_. How I should spend!" He licked his lips at the
+thought of the pleasures of body that money could buy him.
+
+"I should _save_," said the other. "I should make myself the richest man
+in the world. That would be glorious!"
+
+These last words reached the ears of Matheson, and set up a curious
+train of thought as he drove in his cab to his office in the Rue
+Laffitte. The words carried him back to a forest-clearing in the
+backwoods of Ontario, where he and his half-brother had made holiday
+camp some eighteen years before. They were comparing ambitions--two
+young men unusually alike in features but very different in temperament
+and will-power. John Riviere, the elder of the two, was dreaming of fame
+in the paths of science--he had worked his way through M'Gill University
+and was hoping for a demonstratorship to keep him in living expenses.
+Clifford Matheson, a clerk in a broker's office, planned his life in
+terms of cities and money. "To make big money--that's what I call
+success."
+
+In the rapids of the stream by their feet was a swirl of waters covering
+a sunken rock, and Riviere had thrown on to it a chip of wood. The chip
+was whirled round and round, nearer and nearer to the centre, until
+finally it was sucked under with a sudden extinguishment.
+
+"There's the life you plan," he had said to Clifford....
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A L5,000,000 DEAL
+
+
+When Matheson reached his office, he was told by a clerk that Mr Lars
+Larssen was already waiting to see him. He threw off his gloves and
+fur-lined coat and adjusted the lights before he answered that his
+visitor could be shown in. He added that the clerk could lock up his own
+rooms and leave, as he would not be wanted any longer that evening.
+
+There was a quiet simplicity in Matheson's office that one would
+scarcely associate with the operations of high finance. One might have
+looked for costly furnishings and an atmosphere redolent of big money.
+Yet here was a simple rosewood desk with a bowl of mimosa on it, and
+around the walls were a few simple landscapes from recent _salons_.
+
+If Lars Larssen were a magic name to Sir Francis Letchmere, it was a
+magic name also to many other men of affairs. From cabin-boy to
+millionaire shipowner was his story in brief. But that does not tell one
+quarter. The son of Scandinavian immigrants to the States,
+factory-workers, he had run away to sea at the age of fourteen, with the
+call of the ocean ringing in his ears from the Viking inheritance that
+was his. But on this was superposed the fierce desire for success that
+formed the psychical atmosphere of the new American environment. As a
+boy in the smoke-blackened factory town, he had breathed in the longing
+to make money--big money--to use men to his own ends, to be a master of
+masters.
+
+With precocious insight he quickly learnt that money is made not by
+those who go out upon the waters, but by those who stay on land and send
+them hither and thither. He soon gave up the seafaring life and entered
+a shipbroker's office. He starved himself in order to save money to
+speculate in shipping reinsurance. An uncanny insight had guided him to
+rush in when shrewdly prudent business men held aloof.
+
+He had emphatically "made good." Each fresh success had given him new
+confidence in himself and his judgment and his powers. He would allow
+nothing to stand in his path. Scruples were to him the burden of fools.
+
+A fair-haired giant in build, with inscrutable eyes and mouth set grim
+and straight--such was Lars Larssen.
+
+Though Matheson was in no way a small man, yet he seemed somehow dwarfed
+when Larssen entered the room. The financier was a self-made master, but
+the shipowner was a _born_ master of men--perhaps one's instinctive
+contrast lay there. The one had the strength of finished steel, but the
+other was rugged granite.
+
+Lars Larssen said quietly: "Your letter brought me over to Paris. I
+don't usually waste time in railway trains myself when I have men I can
+pay to do it for me. So you can judge that I consider your letter
+mighty important."
+
+"I'm sorry if you have given yourself an unnecessary journey," returned
+Matheson. "I had intended my letter to make my attitude clear to you."
+
+"Then you missed fire."
+
+"My attitude is simply this: I want to call the deal off."
+
+"Not enough in it for you?" cut in Larssen.
+
+"Not enough in it for the public."
+
+The shipowner surveyed the other man through half-closed lids, weighing
+up how far this declaration might be a genuine expression of opinion and
+how far a mere excuse to cover some hidden motive.
+
+"Talk it longer," he said.
+
+For reply Matheson drew out a large-scale map of Canada from a drawer
+and unfolded it with a decisive deliberation. He laid a finger on the
+south-western corner of Hudson Bay. "Here is Fanning trading station,
+the terminus of your five-hundred-mile railway. The land you run it over
+is mostly lakes, rivers, and frozen swamps for three-quarters of the
+year. The line is useless except for your own purpose--to carry wheat
+for the Hudson Bay steamship route to England. You agree?"
+
+"Agreed." Larssen was not the man to waste argument over minor points
+when a vital matter was under discussion.
+
+"Then the scheme centres on the practicability of making the arctic
+Hudson Bay passage a commercial highway. It means the creating of a
+modern port at Fanning. It means the lighting of a whole
+coast-line"--his finger travelled to the north of Hudson Bay and the
+northern coast of Labrador--"before a cargo of wheat leaves Port
+Fanning."
+
+"I'll build lighthouses myself by the dozen if the Canadian Government
+won't. I'll equip every one with long-range wireless."
+
+"The cost will be tremendous."
+
+"There will be a differential of sixpence a bushel on wheat over my
+route. That talks down fifty lighthouses."
+
+"But it makes no allowance for rate-cutting by the big men on the
+present routes. Further, if the Canadian Government are not with you on
+this scheme, they'll be against you. There are a dozen ways in which you
+might be frozen out. In that case the Hudson Bay Route will be the
+biggest fiasco that ever happened."
+
+"Nothing I've yet touched has been a fiasco," answered Lars Larssen with
+a grim tightening of jaw. "Leave that end to me.... Now your end is to
+get the money."
+
+"From the English and Canadian public."
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"You came to me because the English and Canadian public are prejudiced
+against 'Yankee propositions.' You yourself couldn't float it in
+England. On the other hand, I'm Canadian-born, and my name carries
+weight both in England and in Canada."
+
+"With the public," added Larssen, and there was a subtle emphasis on the
+word "public," which carried a world of hidden meaning. Matheson had
+been associated with other schemes which had a bad odour in the nostrils
+of City men.
+
+"With the public who provide the capital," answered the financier, and
+his emphasis was on the word "capital." He continued. "With myself and
+Sir Francis Letchmere and a few titled dummies on the Board--which is
+what you want from me--the public will tumble over one another to take
+up stock."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"The capitalization you propose is L5,000,000 in Ordinary L1 Shares,
+which the public will mostly take up. Also L200,000 in Deferred Shares
+of the nominal value of one shilling each, which are to be allotted to
+yourself as vendor. That gives you four million votes out of a total of
+nine million, and for practical purposes means control."
+
+"The Deferred Shares are not to get a cent of dividend until a fifteen
+per cent. dividend is paid on the Ordinary Shares. That's the squarest
+deal for the public that ever was," retorted Larssen.
+
+"But _you_ hold _control_."
+
+Both men knew the tremendous import of that word. The fortunes of the
+world's financial giants have all been built up on "control." Dwarfing
+"capital" and "credit" it stands--that word "control." If the wild
+gamble of the Hudson Bay scheme were to rush through to commercial
+success--if the limitless wheat-lands of Canada were to pour their
+mighty torrent of life into Europe through the channel of Hudson Bay--it
+would be Lars Larssen who would hold the key of the sluice-gate.
+Directly, he would be master of the wheat of Canada. Indirectly, he
+could turn his master-position to financial gain in scores of ways. The
+L200,000 to be allotted him as vendor was a bagatelle; but to hold four
+million votes out of nine million was to control an empire.
+
+He replied evenly: "I keep control on any proposition I touch. That's
+creed with me. _Creed._"
+
+"We split on that," answered Matheson.
+
+"You want control for yourself?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then what is it you do want?"
+
+"I want half the Deferred Shares in the hands of Lord ----." He named a
+Canadian statesman and empire-builder whose integrity was beyond all
+suspicion. "I want him to hold them as trustee for the ordinary
+shareholders. He will consent if I ask him."
+
+"No doubt he will!" commented Larssen ironically. He drew up his chair
+closer to the other man. There was a dangerous gleam in his eye as he
+said: "Now see here. All the points you've put up were known to you
+months ago. What's happened to make you switch at the last moment?"
+
+He had put his finger on the very core of the matter, but Matheson met
+his searching gaze without flinching. "What's happened is an entirely
+private matter. I've reasons for not wishing to be associated with your
+scheme unless you agree to half the Deferred Shares being held by Lord
+---- as trustee. These reasons of mine have only arisen during the last
+few weeks. Circumstances are different with me from what they were when
+you first broached the plan. If you don't care to agree to my
+suggestion, I call the deal off. As regards the expenses you've
+incurred, I'll go halves."
+
+For comment, the shipowner flicked thumb and forefinger together.
+
+"No, I'll do more," pursued Matheson. "I'll make you a more than fair
+offer--shoulder the whole expenses myself."
+
+Larssen ignored the offer. "I went into the preliminaries of the scheme
+on the understanding that we were to pull together."
+
+"I know."
+
+"It means big money for you--enough to retire on."
+
+"I know."
+
+"Then what the hell's the reason for this sudden attack of scruples?"
+
+For a moment Matheson's eyes blazed black anger, but the anger died out
+of them and the tired look of the platform of the Gare de Lyon took its
+place. "You wouldn't understand," he answered. "The whirlpool."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"It would be useless to explain. I have private reasons.... I've made
+you a thoroughly fair offer, and I don't think there's anything more to
+be said." Matheson rose and walked to the window, pulling up the blind
+and gazing out on the sombre splendour of the big banking houses of the
+Rue Laffitte and the Rue Pillet-Will.
+
+Larssen looked at the silhouette of his antagonist with a tense set of
+his jaws. Many plans were revolving in his mind. Moralists might have
+labelled them "blackmail," but Lars Larssen was utterly free from
+scruples where his own interests were concerned. Honesty with him was a
+mere matter of policy. To a man with the average sense of honour, such
+an attitude of mind is scarcely realisable, but Lars Larssen was no
+normal man. In him the Napoleonic madness--or genius--burned fiercely.
+He had ambitions colossal in scale--he regarded his present wealth and
+power as a mere stepping-stone to the realisation of his Great Idea.
+
+That great ultimate purpose of his life he had never revealed to man or
+woman--save only to his dead wife. He aimed to be controlling owner of
+the world's carrying trade; to hold decision on peace and war between
+nation and nation because of that control of the vital food supply. To
+be Emperor of the Seven Seas.
+
+He had one child only--his boy Olaf, now aged twelve, at school in the
+States. Olaf was to hold the seat of power after him and perpetuate his
+dynasty.
+
+That was Larssen's life-dream.
+
+Any man or woman who stood between him and his great goal was to be
+thrust aside or used as a stepping-stone. Matheson, for instance--he was
+to be _used_. There must be something underlying Matheson's sudden
+access of scruples--what was it? A case of _cherchez la femme_? Or
+political ambitions, perhaps? If he could arrive at the motive, it might
+open up a new avenue for persuasion.
+
+He searched the silhouette of the man at the window for an answer to the
+riddle. But Matheson's face was set, and the answer to the riddle was
+such as Lars Larssen could never have guessed. It lay outside the
+shipowner's pale of thought--beyond the limitations of his mind.
+
+For Matheson also had his big life-scheme, and it now filled his mind
+with a blaze of light as he stood by the window, silent.
+
+Larssen resolved to play for time while he set to work to ferret out his
+antagonist's motive for the sudden change of plan. He did not dream for
+a moment of relinquishing control on the Hudson Bay scheme. As he had
+stated openly, control was _creed_ to him.
+
+He broke the long silence with a conciliatory remark. "Let's think
+matters over for a day or two. My scheme might be modified on the
+financial side. I'm prepared to make concessions to what you think is
+fair to the shareholders. We shall find some common ground of
+agreement."
+
+The smooth words did not deceive Matheson. So his answer came with
+deliberate finality: "I've said my last word."
+
+"Well, I'll consider it carefully. Meanwhile, doing anything to-night? I
+hear that Polaire is on at the Folies Bergeres with her opium-den scene.
+A thriller, I'm told."
+
+Theatres and music-halls were nothing to the shipowner; his idea was to
+keep Matheson under observation if possible, and try to solve the
+riddle.
+
+"Thanks, but I've got to get away from Paris," answered Matheson with
+his tired droop of the shoulders. "I have to join my wife and
+father-in-law at Monte Carlo."
+
+"Very well, then, I'll say good-bye for the present."
+
+When Larssen had left the office, he hurried into a taxi and was whirled
+to the Grand Hotel near at hand. Here he found his secretary turning
+over the illustrated papers in the hall lounge, and gave a few curt
+directions. "Drive round to the Rue Laffitte--a hurry case. On the
+second floor of No. 8 is the office of Clifford Matheson. He may be
+still there--you'll know by the light in the window. Wait till he comes
+out, and follow him. Find out where he goes. If it's to a woman's
+house--good. In any case shadow him to-night wherever he goes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+SHADOWED
+
+
+Matheson, alone in his office, thought deeply for a long while, pacing
+to and fro, grappling with a life-decision. To and fro, from door to
+windows, from windows to door, he paced, until the narrow confines of
+the office thrust at him subconsciously and drove him to the open
+streets.
+
+At his desk he made out a cheque in favour of Lars Larssen to the amount
+of twenty thousand pounds, enclosed it with a brief note in an addressed
+envelope, and put it away in a drawer. It was shortly after eleven when
+he took up his hat, fur-lined coat and heavy gold-mounted stick, clicked
+out the lights, and made his way down to the Rue Laffitte.
+
+At the corner of the Rue Laffitte he passed a young man lounging in the
+shadows, who presently turned and followed him at a sober distance.
+Matheson made up towards the heights of Montmartre, crowned by the white
+Basilique of the Sacred Heart. The great church stood out in cold white
+beauty--serene and pure--above the feverish glitter of Paris. Up there a
+man might attune himself to the message of the stars--might weigh duty
+against duty in the balance of the infinite.
+
+He walked deep in thought, with shoulders drooping.
+
+Beyond the clamorous glitter of the Place Pigalle, with its garish
+entertainment halls and all-night restaurants, there is a dark, narrow,
+winding lane ascending steeply to the great white sentinel church on the
+heights. Up this Matheson strode, still deep in thought, and his
+shadower followed. But, half-way up, a new factor cut sharply into the
+situation. Out of a _ruelle_ crept two _apaches_ with the stealthy glide
+of their class. One followed close behind Clifford Matheson, while the
+other stopped to watch the lane against the possible arrival of an
+_agent de police_.
+
+The young man who had followed from the Rue Laffitte paused irresolute.
+On the one hand were his orders to shadow Matheson wherever he might go
+that night; on the other hand was his personal safety. He was keenly
+alive to the merciless ferocity of the Parisian _apache_, and he was
+unarmed. The wicked curved knife doubtless concealed under the belt of
+the _apache_ turned the scale decisively in the mind of the shadower. He
+saw no call to risk his own life.
+
+He gave up and retraced his steps, leaving Matheson to his fate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+ON THE SCENT OF A MYSTERY
+
+
+The name of the young man who had shadowed Matheson was Arthur Dean, and
+his position in life was that of a clerk in the Leadenhall Street office
+of Lars Larssen. The latter had brought him over to Paris as temporary
+secretary because the confidential secretary had happened to be ill and
+away from business at the moment when Matheson's letter arrived.
+
+Young Dean bitterly repented his cowardice before he was five minutes
+distant from the narrow lane on the heights of Montmartre.
+
+Not only had he left a fellow-countryman to possible violence and
+robbery, but his action would inevitably recoil on himself. To be even a
+temporary secretary to the great shipowner was a chance, an opportunity
+that most young business men of twenty-four would eagerly grasp at. He
+was throwing away his chance by this cowardly disobedience to
+orders--Lars Larssen was not the man to forgive an offence of that kind.
+
+Dean turned on his tracks and again crossed the Place Pigalle. The lane
+behind was deserted. He mounted it and searched eagerly. His search was
+fruitless. Matheson was nowhere visible--nor the two _apaches_. To what
+had happened in that interval of ten minutes there was no clue.
+
+The young fellow did not dare to go back to the Grand Hotel and report
+his failure. He wandered about aimlessly and miserably, until a
+flaunting poster outside an all-night _cafe chantant_ caught his eye and
+decided him to enter and kill time until some plan for retrieving his
+failure might occur to him.
+
+As he entered the swinging doors a cheery hand was laid on his
+shoulders. "Hullo, old man! Hail and thrice hail!"
+
+"Jimmy!" There was a note of pleasure in the young man's voice.
+
+"The same," confirmed Jimmy Martin. He was a tubby, clean-shaven,
+rosy-faced little fellow of thirty odd, with an inexhaustible fund of
+good spirits. Everyone called him "Jimmy." Dean had known him as a
+reporter on a London daily paper and a fellow-member of a local dramatic
+society in Streatham.
+
+"Why are you here?" asked Dean.
+
+"Strictly on business, my gay young spark. My present owners, the
+_Europe Chronicle_, bless their dear hearts, want to know if La Belle
+Ariola"--he waved his hand towards a poster which showed chiefly a
+toreador hat, a pair of flashing eyes, and a whirl of white
+draperies--"is engaged or no to the Prince of Sardinia. I find the
+maiden coy, not to say secretive----"
+
+"I wish you could help me," interrupted Dean eagerly.
+
+"If four francs seventy will do it--my worldly possessions until next
+pay-day----"
+
+"No, no, this is quite different." He drew Martin outside into the
+street and whispered. "To-night, as I happen to know, an Englishman
+walking along a back street by the Place Pigalle was followed by two
+_apaches_."
+
+"A week-end tripper, or somebody with a flourish at each end of his
+name?"
+
+"Somebody worth while. Now I want to know particularly if anything
+happened."
+
+Martin nodded in full understanding. "Come along to the office about ten
+to-morrow morning, and I'll tell you if anything's been fired in from
+the _gendarmeries_ or the hospitals. What did you say the man's name
+was?"
+
+Dean shook his head.
+
+"Imitaciong oyster?" commented Martin cheerfully. "Very well, see you
+to-morrow. Meanwhile, be good. Flee the giddy lure. Go home to your
+little bed and sleep sweet." There was seriousness under his
+good-natured banter. "Come along and I'll see you as far as the
+bullyvards."
+
+Arthur Dean went with him, but did not return to the Grand Hotel. He
+found a small hotel for the night, and next morning at ten o'clock he
+was at the office of the _Europe Chronicle_, an important daily paper
+published simultaneously in Paris, Frankfort, and Florence.
+
+Martin came out from the news room into the adjoining ante-room with a
+slip of "flimsy" in his hand.
+
+"Was your man hefty with the shillelagh?" he asked.
+
+"He carried a big, gold-mounted stick."
+
+"Then here's your bird." He read out from the slip of paper: "Last
+night, shortly after twelve, a certain Gaspard P---- was brought to the
+Hopital Malesherbes suffering from a fractured skull. This morning, on
+recovering consciousness, he states that he was attacked without cause
+by a drunken Englishman, and struck over the head with a heavy stick.
+His state is grave."
+
+Dean felt a warm wave of relief. He thanked the journalist cordially and
+was about to leave, when the telephone bell rang sharply in the
+adjoining news room. The sub-editor in charge took up the receiver.
+
+"_Ullo, ullo! C'est ici le Chronicle_," said the sub-editor, and after
+listening for a moment signed imperatively to Martin to come in and shut
+the door.
+
+Presently Martin came out from the news room bustling with energy and
+took Dean by the arm. "You specified two _apaches_, didn't you?" he
+asked, and hurried on without waiting for an answer. "One was probably
+the injured innocence now at the Malesherbes and cursing those _sacres
+Angliches_, but the other lies low and says nuffink. That's the one that
+interests me. Come along in my taxi and watch me chase a story."
+
+Stopping only to borrow fifty francs for expenses from the cashier's
+wicket, Martin hurried his friend into a taximeter cab and gave the
+brief direction: "Pont de Neuilly."
+
+Three-quarters of an hour later they had reached the bridge at the end
+of the long avenue of the suburb of Neuilly and had dismissed the cab.
+
+"Now for our imitaciong Sherlock Holmes," said Martin. "The 'phone
+message was that a man had found a fur coat and a gold-mounted stick
+under some bushes by the left bank of the Seine four hundred metres down
+stream. He was apparently some sort of workman, and explained that he
+had no wish to be mixed up with the police. On the other hand, he felt
+he had to do his duty by the civilization that provides him with a blue
+blouse, bread, and bock, so he 'phoned the news to us.... Wish everyone
+was as sensible," he added, viewing the matter from a professional
+standpoint.
+
+Three hundred yards down, they began to look very carefully amongst the
+bushes that line the water's edge. It was not long before they came to
+the object of their search. Under an alder-bush they found it--a heavy
+fur-lined coat sodden with the river water, and a gold-mounted stick.
+
+The maker's name had been cut out of the overcoat; its pockets were
+empty.
+
+Martin held it up. "Did this belong to your man?" he asked, as though
+sure of the answer.
+
+"No," answered Dean decisively.
+
+The journalist whisked around in complete surprise and looked at him
+keenly. "_Sure?_"
+
+"Positive. There was astrakhan on the collar and cuffs of the coat my
+man was wearing."
+
+"And this stick?"
+
+"It looks much the same kind, but then there are thousands of sticks
+like this in use."
+
+The stout little journalist looked pathetically disappointed. For the
+moment he had no thought beyond the professional aspect of the
+matter--the unearthing of a "good story"--and the human significance of
+what he had found was entirely out of mind. He turned over the coat and
+stick in obvious perplexity, as though they ought somehow to contain the
+key to the puzzle if only he could see it. Then he examined the traces
+of footsteps on the damp earth by the water-side. There was another set
+of footprints beside their own--no doubt the footprints of the man who
+had first found the objects and 'phoned to the _Chronicle_.
+
+"What are you going to do next?" asked the young clerk.
+
+"Take them to the police?"
+
+Martin looked up and down the river bank. That part of the Seine is
+usually deserted except for nursemaids and children and an occasional
+workman. At the moment there was apparently no one in sight.
+
+"You don't know the Paris police--that's evident," returned the
+journalist. "They would throw fits on the floor if I were so much as to
+carry off a coat-button. No, we must hide the coat and stick in the
+bushes again, and tell them to-morrow."
+
+"Why to-morrow?"
+
+"Twenty-four hours' start is due to my owners, bless their sensational
+little hearts. If nothing further comes to light, then the press steps
+aside and allows the law to take its course. Meanwhile to the Morgue
+and the Malesherbes. We'll pick up a cab on the Avenue de Neuilly.
+Newspaper life, my young friend, is one dam taxi after another."
+
+The Morgue is, of course, no longer the public peep-show that it used to
+be, but Martin's card procured him instant admission. On the inclined
+marble slabs, down which ice water gently trickles, were two ghastly
+white figures of women which had been waiting identification for some
+days. The object of their search was not at the Morgue.
+
+They proceeded across Paris to the Hopital Malesherbes, but at the Place
+de l'Opera Dean asked to be put down. The journalist promised to 'phone
+to the Grand Hotel if anything of interest came to light, and Arthur
+Dean went to make his report to Lars Larssen. It was already past
+mid-day, and without doubt the shipowner would be impatient to hear
+news.
+
+Only stopping at a telephone call office for a few minutes, Dean hurried
+to his employer's suite of rooms.
+
+"Well?" asked Lars Larssen.
+
+"To begin at the beginning, sir, I waited last night in the Rue Laffitte
+until Mr Matheson came out of his office. It was not long before he
+appeared, and then----"
+
+The shipowner interrupted curtly. "I want the heart of the matter."
+
+Dean gulped and answered: "I believe Mr Matheson has been murdered."
+
+"Believe! Do you _know_?"
+
+"Of course I don't know for certain, sir; but this morning I assisted
+at the finding of his coat and stick on the banks of the Seine."
+
+"Sure they were his?"
+
+"Yes, quite sure. I was with a journalist friend of mine, but I didn't
+let him know that I recognized the coat and stick. I thought perhaps you
+would like me to tell you before the matter was made public."
+
+"Good! Now give me the full story."
+
+Arthur Dean summoned up his nerve to tell the connected tale he had
+thought out during the long cab rides that morning. It was essential
+that he should disguise his cowardice and his failure to carry out
+orders of the night before. With that exception, his account was a
+truthful and detailed story of all that had happened. He concluded
+with:--
+
+"I 'phoned up Mr Matheson's office--without telling my name--and asked
+if he was in or had been to the office this morning. They said no. I got
+his hotel address from them and 'phoned the hotel. They also could tell
+me nothing about Mr Matheson."
+
+Lars Larssen paced the room in silence for some time. Finally he shot
+out a question.
+
+"Your salary is?"
+
+"L100 a year, sir."
+
+"Engaged, or likely to be?"
+
+The young man blushed deeply as he replied: "I hope to be shortly."
+
+"You can't marry on two pound a week."
+
+"I am hoping to get promotion in the office, and then----"
+
+"Do you understand how to get promotion?"
+
+"Of course, sir. I intend to work hard and study the details of the
+business outside my own department, and learn Spanish as well as
+French----"
+
+Lars Larssen flicked thumb and finger together contemptuously. "The men
+I pay real money to are not that kind of men."
+
+Arthur Dean looked in surprise.
+
+"Now see here," pursued the shipowner, fixing his eyes deep into the
+young man's, "why did you lie to me just now?"
+
+Dean went deathly white, and began to falter a denial.
+
+"Don't lie any further! Something happened last night that you haven't
+told me of. I know, because you brought in no report last night. Out
+with it!"
+
+Under that merciless look the young clerk made a clean breast of the
+matter. His voice shook as he realized that it probably meant instant
+dismissal for him. Here was the end of all his hopes.
+
+Lars Larssen made no comment until the last details had been faltered
+out. Then he said abruptly: "I propose to raise you L300 a year."
+
+Dean stared at him in silent amazement.
+
+"L300 a year is good salary for a young man. If I pay it, I want it
+earned. Now understand this: what I want in my men is absolute loyalty,
+absolute obedience to orders, and absolute truthfulness to me. Lie to
+others if you like--that's no concern of mine--but not to me. Further,
+understand what orders mean. If I tell you to do a thing, I am wholly
+responsible for its outcome. The responsibility is not yours--it's
+mine. Got that?"
+
+"It's very generous of you to give me such a chance, sir. It's much more
+than I have the right to expect. You can count on my loyalty and
+obedience to the utmost--of course, provided that----"
+
+"The men I want to raise in my employ, and the men I have raised, leave
+fine scruples to me. That's my end. Your end is to carry out orders. If
+you're going to set store on niceties of truthfulness when business
+interests demand otherwise, you'll remain a two-pound-a-week clerk all
+your life."
+
+Dean's weakness of moral fibre had been shrewdly weighed up by Larssen.
+The young man was plastic clay to be moulded by a firm grasp. L300 a
+year opened out to him a vista of roseate possibilities. L300 a year was
+his price.
+
+The colour came and went in his face as he thought out the meaning of
+what his employer had just said. At length he answered: "I owe you many
+thanks, sir. What do you want me to do?"
+
+"Understand this: L300 a year is your starting salary. If I find you
+after trial to be the man I think you are, you can look forward to
+bigger money.... Now my point lies here; Mr Matheson was engaged with me
+in a large-scale enterprise. Alive, he would have been useful to me. I
+intend to keep him alive!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE FIRST MOVE IN THE GAME
+
+
+At the great Leadenhall Street office of the shipowner, an office which
+bore outside the simple sign--ostentatious in its simplicity--of "Lars
+Larssen--Shipping," Arthur Dean had looked upon his employer from afar
+as some demi-god raised above other business men by mysterious gifts
+from heaven. A modern Midas with the power of turning what he touched to
+gold.
+
+Now he was granted an intimate glimpse into the workings of his
+employer's mind that came to him as a positive revelation. Larssen's
+were no mysterious powers, but the powers that every man possessed
+worked at white heat and with an extraordinary swiftness and exactitude.
+The revelation did not sweep away the glamour; on the contrary, it
+increased it. Lars Larssen was a craftsman taking up the commonest tools
+of his craft and using them to create a work of art of consummate build.
+
+His present work was to keep alive the personality of Clifford Matheson
+until the Hudson Bay scheme should be launched. To use Matheson's name
+on the prospectus, and to use his influence with Sir Francis Letchmere
+and others. Dead, Matheson was to serve him better than alive.
+
+But the shipowner did not build his edifice on the foundation merely of
+what Arthur Dean had told him. He had to satisfy himself more
+accurately.
+
+A string of rapid, apparently unconnected orders almost bewildered the
+young secretary:--
+
+"First, get a list of the big hotels at Monte Carlo. Engage the trunk
+telephone and call up each hotel until you find where Sir Francis
+Letchmere is staying. Give no name.... Buy a pair of workman's boots to
+fit you. Get them in some side street shop. Bring them with you--don't
+ask them to send.... Take this typewriting"--he took a letter from his
+pocket and carefully clipped off a small portion--"and match it with a
+portable travelling machine. Can you recognize the make of machine
+off-hand?"
+
+Dean examined the portion of typed matter, and shook his head.
+
+"You must train yourself to observe detail. Looks to me like the type on
+a 'Thor' machine. Try the Thor Co. first. If not there, go to every
+typewriter firm in Paris until it matches.... Go to the offices of the
+Compagnie Transatlantique and get a list of sailings on the
+Cherbourg-Quebec route. Give no name.... Meanwhile, 'phone your
+journalist friend and have him call on me."
+
+"What reason shall I give him, sir?"
+
+"Anything that will pull him here. Tell him I'm willing to be
+interviewed on the proposed international agreement about maritime
+contraband in time of war. Quite sure you remember all my orders?"
+
+"I think so, sir."
+
+"Repeat them."
+
+The young man did so.
+
+"Good!"
+
+Dean flushed with pleasure at the commendation.
+
+"Had lunch yet?"
+
+"Not yet."
+
+Lars Larssen smiled as he said: "Well, postpone lunch till to-night, or
+eat while you're hustling around in cabs. This is a hurry case. Here's
+an advance fifty pounds to keep you in expense money."
+
+As the crisp notes were put into his hand, Arthur Dean felt that he was
+indeed on the ladder which led to business status and wealth. His
+thoughts went out to a little girl in Streatham who was waiting, he
+knew, till he could ask her to be his wife. If Daisy could see how he
+was being taken into his employer's confidence!
+
+Lars Larssen startled him with a remark that savoured of
+thought-reading. "My three-hundred-a-year men," he said, "don't write
+home about business matters."
+
+"I quite understand, sir."
+
+Later in the afternoon, Jimmy Martin of the _Europe Chronicle_ sent in
+his card at the Grand Hotel, and Lars Larssen did not keep him waiting
+beyond a few moments.
+
+The tubby little journalist was no hero-worshipper. Few journalists can
+be--they see too intimately the strings which work the affairs of the
+world for the edification of a trustful public. Consequently, Martin's
+attitude in the presence of the millionaire shipowner was as free from
+constraint or subservience as it would be in the dressing-room of La
+Belle Ariola, who danced the bolero at a _cafe chantant_, or in the ward
+of the Malesherbes Hopital, interviewing an _apache_ with a cracked
+skull.
+
+Lars Larssen summed him up with lightning rapidity of thought, and
+adjusted his own attitude to a friendly, confidential basis.
+
+Said Martin: "You want to talk about contraband of war? I'd better tell
+you the _Chronicle_'s red-hot against the olive-branch merchants, so I
+hope you're not one of them. Say you agree with us, and I can spread you
+over half a column."
+
+The shipowner smiled. "That's the talk I like. Make a policy and set the
+buzzer going. Now see here...."
+
+At the end of half an hour he had established a link of easy friendship,
+and had brought the conversation round without difficulty to the matter
+which was the real object of the interview.
+
+"Dean was telling me about the help you gave him on his wild-goose chase
+to-day. Many thanks. He's a steady young fellow and will get on--but a
+little too ready to jump at conclusions. Of course you found nothing at
+the hospital?"
+
+On the answer much depended, but no one could have guessed it from the
+shipowner's face, which was smilingly confident.
+
+"Nothing doing!" answered Martin. "Our young friend with the cracked
+skull met the holy Tartar last night. He's raving sore--wants to
+prosecute him for assault, if he can find out who he is."
+
+"Exactly. But there's a disappointment in store for him. I met my friend
+to-day going off to Canada. What are you going to do about the coat and
+stick at Neuilly?"
+
+"Hunt around for a few more clues before turning it over to the police."
+There was a tired disappointment in the journalist's voice that Lars
+Larssen noted with keen satisfaction. "I doubt if the police'll do much
+unless the relations kick up a shindy. Paris is the finest place in
+Europe to get murdered in peacefully and without a lot of silly fuss.
+You see, it might be a hoax. Your Parisian hoaxer likes a dash of Grand
+Guignol horrors in his jokelet. The police have been had several times,
+and they're very much hoax-shy. I could tell you some pretty tales about
+mysterious disappearances that never get into the papers."
+
+A little later the journalist took his departure. As the great shipowner
+shook hands at the door, he said cordially: "If you want news from me
+when I'm in Paris any time, come straight to me. I like your paper; I
+like your methods."
+
+Martin left without a suspicion that he had been "pumped" for vital
+information.
+
+Now the shipowner had to wait patiently for nightfall before the first
+definite move of his game could be played. One of his secrets of success
+was that he never allowed his mind to worry him. He shut the matter
+completely out of his conscious thoughts; got a trunk telephone call to
+his London office; sent off some cables to his New York office; and
+generally immersed himself on business matters quite unrelated to the
+Matheson case.
+
+It was nearly ten o'clock that night before Arthur Dean returned from an
+errand on which he had been sent. In his arms was a bulky brown-paper
+parcel.
+
+He opened it in the privacy of his employer's sitting-room, and
+remembering the advice given him that morning as to the way to present a
+business report, pointed silently to a small slit in the side of the
+fur-lined coat, where it would cover a man's ribs. On the inner lining
+of the coat there was a dark stain around the slit, though the immersion
+in the river had of course washed away any definite blood-clot.
+
+Lars Larssen nodded appreciation of the young fellow's method of going
+straight to the heart of the subject. "Good!" said he. "Now for
+details."
+
+"I carried out your orders exactly, sir. Took a cab to Neuilly,
+dismissed it, put on the pair of workman's boots when I was in the
+darkness of the river bank, and found the coat and stick just where
+Martin and I had hidden them in the bushes. The trees make it quite dark
+along that part of the Seine, and I am certain no one saw me taking them
+and wrapping them in my brown paper. The coat was nearly dry."
+
+"Did you find the stick broken?"
+
+"No. I broke it in two so that it could be wrapped in the same parcel as
+the coat."
+
+"Did you examine footprints?"
+
+"Yes. The only ones around the bushes were Martin's and mine made this
+morning, and the prints of the man who first discovered them. Of course
+my own prints this time were made by the boots you told me to buy and
+put on."
+
+"What next?"
+
+"I went along the river bank for a couple of miles with my parcel until
+I came to some other suburb, and then I caught a cab to the Arc de
+Triomphe, and there I took another cab to here."
+
+"The workman's boots?"
+
+"After I changed back to my ordinary boots, I threw them in the river,
+as you told me to."
+
+"They sank?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Anything else?"
+
+"Nothing else worth reporting, I think.... Do you recognize this coat
+and stick as belonging to Mr Matheson, sir?"
+
+Lars Larssen nodded non-committally, and ordered the young fellow to get
+a trunk telephone call through to Sir Francis Letchmere at Monte Carlo.
+Dean had already found out that he was staying at the Hotel des
+Hesperides.
+
+But when the telephone connexion had been made, it was Olive who
+answered from the other end of the wire:--
+
+"This is Mrs Matheson. Who is speaking?"
+
+"Mr Larssen. I want Sir Francis Letchmere."
+
+"He's out just now. Shall I take your message?"
+
+"Have you heard yet from your husband?"
+
+"No. Why?"
+
+"He's off to Canada. I thought he would have wired you."
+
+"That's just like Clifford!" There was an angry sharpness in the voice
+over the wire.
+
+"I reckon he was in too much of a hurry. It's in connexion with the
+Hudson Bay scheme--you know about that?"
+
+"Yes. Has anything gone wrong with it?" Now there was anxiety in the
+voice.
+
+"A new situation has arisen. Your husband suggested to me that he had
+better hurry across the pond and straighten up matters." Larssen lowered
+his voice. "Somebody in the Canadian Government wants oiling. Of course
+he will have to work the affair very quietly."
+
+"It's too annoying! Clifford had promised me faithfully to come on to
+Monte by to-night's train. I wanted him here."
+
+"That's rough on you!"
+
+"What message did you wish to give to my father?"
+
+"About the Hudson Bay deal. I want to meet Sir Francis and talk
+business."
+
+"You're not going to drag him back to Paris!"
+
+Again there was annoyance in her voice, and Lars Larssen made a quick
+resolution. He answered: "Certainly not, if you don't wish it. Rather
+than that, I'll come myself to Monte."
+
+"That's charming of you!"
+
+"The least I can do. I'll wire later when to expect me."
+
+"Many thanks."
+
+When the conversation had concluded, the shipowner called the young
+secretary and asked him to bring in the new "Thor" travelling typewriter
+he had purchased that afternoon. Larssen had proved right in his guess
+of the make of machine with which his scrap of typing had been done.
+
+"Take a letter. Envelope first," said Larssen.
+
+"You want me to take it direct on the machine, sir?"
+
+"Yes." The shipowner began to dictate. "Monsieur G. R. Coulter, Rue
+Laffitte, 8, Paris.... Now for the letter.... Cherbourg, March 15th."
+
+"Any address above Cherbourg?"
+
+"Not at present. 'Cherbourg, March 15th. Dear Coulter, I am called away
+to Canada on business. The matter is very private, and I want my trip
+kept very quiet. I leave affairs in your hands until my return. Get my
+luggage from my hotel and keep it in the office. If anything urgent
+arises, my name and address will be Arthur Dean, Hotel Ritz-Carlton,
+Montreal.'"
+
+The young secretary went white, and his fingers dropped from the keys of
+the typewriter.
+
+"Sir!"
+
+It was a moment of crisis.
+
+"Well?" asked Lars Larssen sharply.
+
+"A letter like that, sir...!"
+
+"You don't care to go to Canada?"
+
+"It's not that, but----" He stammered, and stopped short.
+
+Lars Larssen allowed a moment of silence to give weight to his coming
+words. He drew out a cheque-book from his breast-pocket and very
+deliberately said: "Make yourself out a cheque for a usual month's
+wages, and bring it to me to sign. That will be in lieu of notice."
+
+Arthur Dean took the cheque-book with shaking fingers and went to the
+adjoining room.
+
+When at length he came back, he found the shipowner making out a
+telegram. He stood in silence until the telegram was given into his
+hand, open, with an order to send it off to London. His glance fell
+involuntarily on the writing, and he could see that the wire was to call
+over somebody to replace him.
+
+"I don't think this will be necessary, sir," said Dean, with a tremor in
+his voice which told of the mental struggle he had been through in the
+adjoining room, when his career lay staked on the issue of a single
+decision.
+
+It was not without definite purpose that Lars Larssen had put the
+cheque-book into his hands. He knew well the power of suggestion, and
+used it with a master-hand. He could almost see the young secretary torn
+between the thoughts of a miserable L8 on the one hand, and the
+illimitable wealth suggested by a blank cheque-book on the other.
+
+"Understand this," answered Larssen. "Whichever way you decide matters
+nothing to me from the business point of view. I can get a dozen, twenty
+men to replace you at a moment's notice. If you don't care to go to
+Canada, you're perfectly free to say so. Then we part, because you're
+useless to me. Aside from the purely business point of view, I should
+be sorry. I like you; I see possibilities in you; I could help you up
+the business ladder."
+
+"That's very good of you, sir."
+
+"Wait. I want you to see this matter in the proper light. You have an
+idea that what that letter represents could get you into trouble with
+the law. That's it, isn't it?"
+
+Dean coloured.
+
+"Now see here. I stand behind that letter. My reputation is worth about
+ten thousand times yours in hard cash. Would I be mad enough to risk my
+reputation unless I had looked at every move on the board?"
+
+"I didn't think of that at the time."
+
+"Exactly. Now you see the other side of the picture. If you want half an
+hour to make up your mind once and for all, take it. Consider carefully
+what you'd like to be in the future: clerk or business man. Two pound a
+week; or six, ten, twenty, fifty a week. That represents the difference
+between the clerk and the business man in cold cash."
+
+"I've made up my mind, sir," answered Dean firmly.
+
+"Good!" said Lars Larssen, and held out his hand to his young employee.
+"There's the right stuff in you!"
+
+To have his hand shaken in friendship by the millionaire shipowner was
+as strong wine to Arthur Dean. He flushed with pleasure as he stammered
+out his thanks.
+
+A couple of hours packed with feverish activity followed. Lars Larssen
+knew that Clifford Matheson had the habit of carrying a small typewriter
+with him on his journeys, in order to get through correspondence while
+on trains and steamers. Many busy men carry them. This habit of
+Matheson's was exceedingly useful for his present purpose. The letter
+that Arthur Dean was to post off at Cherbourg--one to the Paris office
+of Clifford Matheson and one of similar purport to the London
+office--would only need the signature in holograph. Larssen had several
+of Matheson's signatures on various letters that had passed between
+them, and these he cut off and gave to his employee to copy.
+
+He criticised the spacing and the general lay-out of the letter already
+typed, showed Dean how to imitate Matheson's little habits of typing,
+and arranged that the letters dictated should be retyped on hotel paper
+at Cherbourg and posted there. Dean was to catch a night train to
+Cherbourg, take steamer ticket there for Quebec, and proceed to
+Montreal. There were a host of directions as to his conduct while in
+Canada, and as Larssen poured out a stream of detailed orders, searching
+into every cranny and crevice of the situation, the young clerk felt
+once more the glamour of the master-mind.
+
+Here was an employer worth working for!
+
+Early next morning Dean was at grimy Cherbourg, and after posting off
+his letters he sent the following telegram to Mrs Matheson at Monte
+Carlo:--
+
+"Sailing this morning for Canada on 'La Bretagne.' Urgent and very
+private business. Larssen, Grand Hotel, Paris, will explain. Sailing as
+Arthur Dean to avoid Canadian reporters. Good-bye. Much love."
+
+As the liner lay by the quayside with smoke pouring from her funnels and
+the bustle of near departure on her decks, a telegram in reply was
+brought to Arthur Dean. He opened and read:--
+
+"Most annoying. Cannot understand why business could not have been given
+to somebody else. However, expect nothing from you nowadays. Where is
+Riviere? Not arrived, and no line from him."
+
+Riviere? Who was this man? Lars Larssen had made no mention of this
+name. It was the one facet of the situation of which the shipowner knew
+nothing--the one unknown link in the chain of circumstance.
+
+Arthur Dean could only send a frantic wire to Lars Larssen, and the
+liner had cast off from her moorings before an answer came. This is what
+the shipowner found awaiting him at his hotel:--
+
+"Mrs M. wants to know where is Riviere. Reply urgent. Who is Riviere?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE BEGINNING OF A NEW LIFE
+
+
+On the morning of March 15th, Clifford Matheson lit a blazing fire in
+the laboratory of a tumbledown villa in Neuilly in order to destroy the
+clothes and other identity marks of the financier.
+
+For some months past he had been leading a double life--as Clifford
+Matheson the financier, and as John Riviere the recluse scientist. He
+had chosen to take up the name of his dead half-brother because he had
+been taking up the latter's life-work.
+
+The motives that had urged him to this strange double life were such as
+a Lars Larssen could scarcely comprehend. Every man has his mental as
+well as his physical limitations. The keenest brain, if trained on some
+specialized line, will fail to understand what to the dabbler in many
+lines seems perfectly natural and reasonable. Larssen, a master-mind,
+had his peculiar limitations as well as smaller men. His brain had been
+trained to see the world as an ant-heap into which some Power External
+had stamped an iron heel. The ants fought blindly with one another to
+reach the surface--to live. That was the law of life as he saw it--to
+fight one's way to the open.
+
+The world he looked upon breathed in money through eager nostrils.
+Money was the oxygen of civilization. Without money a man slowly
+asphyxiated. It must be every man's ambition to own big money--to
+breathe it in himself with full-lunged, lustful, intoxicating gulps, and
+to dole it out as master to dependents pleading for their ration of
+life. That was the meaning of power: to give or withhold the essentials
+of life at one's pleasure.
+
+Consequently he had failed to read the riddle of Matheson's motive at
+that crucial interview in the financier's office on the Rue Laffitte. He
+had failed to realize that a man might be as eager to give as to grasp.
+He had failed to reckon on altruism as a possible dominating factor in
+the decisions of a successful man of business.
+
+Further than that, it lay entirely outside Lars Larssen's plane of
+thought that a man who had fought his way up to worldly success from a
+clerk's stool in a Montreal broker's office, who had made himself a
+power in the world of London and Paris finance, could voluntarily give
+up money and power and bury himself in obscurity.
+
+Larssen judged that Matheson had been murdered and robbed by the
+_apaches_. It was possible, though extremely improbable, that he might
+have committed suicide. Which it was, mattered nothing to the shipowner.
+But he did not dream for one instant that Matheson might have thrown up
+place and power to disappear into voluntary exile.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Clifford Matheson had set himself from the age of eighteen to achieve a
+money success. At thirty-seven, he had achieved it. He had slashed out
+for himself a path to power in the financial world. He was rich enough
+to satisfy the desires of most men.
+
+Five years ago he had married into a well-known English family, and the
+doors of society had been opened wide to him. But his marriage had been
+a ghastly mistake. Olive, after marriage, had showed herself entirely
+out of sympathy with the idealism that formed so large a part of the
+complex character of her husband. She wanted money and power, and she
+drove spurs into her husband that he might obtain for her more and more
+money, more and more power. Any other ambition in Clifford she tried to
+sneer down with the ruthlessness of an utterly mercenary woman.
+
+He had come to loathe the sensuous artificiality of his life. He had
+come to loathe the ruthless selfishness of finance. He was sick with the
+callousness of that stratum of the world in which he moved.
+
+In the last couple of years he had found himself drawn powerfully
+towards the calm, passionless atmosphere of science in which his elder
+brother, John Riviere, had found his life-work. Riviere had made no
+worldly success for himself. The scientific researches he had undertaken
+made no stir when they found light in the pages of obscure quarterlies
+circulating amongst a few dozen other men engaged in similar research.
+Riviere had not the temperament to push himself or the children of his
+brain. He had settled into a solitary bachelor life in a small Canadian
+college--an unknown, unrecognized man--and yet the calm, steady purpose
+and the calm, passionless happiness of the life had made a deep
+impression on Clifford Matheson.
+
+Riviere had come to an accidental death on a holiday with his brother in
+the wilds of northern Canada. Few knew of it beyond Matheson.
+
+The financier had been drawn towards one special problem of science, and
+on this he had studied deeply the last few years. From his studies, an
+idea had developed which could only be worked out by experiments. Many
+years of patient research would be needed, for this thought-child of
+Matheson's was a master-idea, an idea which meant the exploring of a
+practically uncharted sea of knowledge.
+
+In brief, it was an attack of root-problem of human disease. Doctors and
+pathologists had hitherto been viewing disease from the aspect of its
+myriad effects on the highly complex human being. It was as though one
+were to attempt to understand the subtleties of some full-grown language
+without first learning its elementary grammar--the foundations on which
+its super-structure is reared.
+
+Now Matheson, coming to the problem with a strong, fresh mind unhampered
+by the swaddling clothes of a college training, saw it from a view-point
+entirely different to that of the doctors. He wanted to know the
+elementary grammar of human disease. He found that no book dealt with
+it--nor attempted to deal with it. No recognized department of a medical
+course took as its province the root-causes of disease. Pathology was a
+study of effects. Bacteriology--that again was merely a study of
+effects.
+
+He had read widely amongst a variety of scientific research-matter, and
+had found that here and there an isolated attack was being made on the
+problem of causes. But nothing strong-planned--as any one of his
+financial schemes would be planned--nothing co-ordinated. The researches
+of the day were starting at points too complex, before the basic
+conditions of the problem were known.
+
+He wanted to learn, and to give to the world, the basic facts.
+
+Disease, as he viewed it, was primarily the result of abnormal
+conditions of living. His idea was to study it in its simplest possible
+form. To study the effects of abnormal conditions of life on the lowest
+living organisms--the microscopic blobs of life whose structure is
+elemental. From his wide reading of the last couple of years, he knew
+what little was already known and the vast field that was unexplored
+territory. He need not waste time over what others had already dealt
+with--the new territory offered sufficient field for a life-work.
+
+Once he could get at the basic facts of disease as it related to the
+very simplest organisms, he could progress upwards to the higher
+organisms, and so eventually to man. What could be learnt from the
+pathological condition of an amoeba might lay the foundations for the
+conquering of cancer in man, and a hundred other diseases as well.
+Matheson's idea was a revolutionary one--a master-idea like a
+master-patent. It held limitless possibilities for the alleviation of
+human pain and suffering.
+
+It was an idea to which a man might well devote his whole intellect and
+energies.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Some months before, the financier had bought, in the name of John
+Riviere, a tumbledown villa on the outskirts of Neuilly. In it he had
+fitted up a research laboratory in which to pursue the experimental end
+of the problem which had such vital interest for him.
+
+A high wall surrounded a garden overgrown with weeds and a villa falling
+to decay. At one time, no doubt, the house had formed a nest for the
+_petite amie_ of some rich Parisian, but now the owner of the property
+was only too glad to sell it at any price, and without asking any but
+the most perfunctory questions of the man who had offered to buy. In the
+solitude of the ruined villa, Matheson had been pursuing his scientific
+research at such times as he could snatch from his financial business.
+He had been leading a "double life"--from a motive far different to the
+double life of other married men. There was no woman in the case. There
+was no secret scheme of money-making. There was no solitary pandering to
+the senses with drink or drugs.
+
+But the financier had been finding that the leading of a double life
+bristled with practical difficulties. Apart from the calls of his
+business, there were the insistent demands of his wife. The position
+was becoming an intolerable one. He had to choose between the life of
+the money-maker or that of the creator of a new field of knowledge.
+
+On the night of 14th March the conversation on the platform of the Gare
+de Lyon and the fight with Lars Larssen had brought the question of
+decision to a head. He had grappled with it in his office, pacing to and
+fro long after the shipowner had left. He had turned his steps towards
+the heights of Montmartre so that he might carry his problem up to the
+solitude of a high place, in the peace of the eternal stars.
+
+He was deep in the question of decision when the two apaches had
+attacked him in the narrow lane leading to the Basilique of the Sacred
+Heart. Matheson was a man of considerable strength and alertness. He had
+felled one of the two _apaches_ with his heavy gold-mounted stick; the
+other one had sent through the fur-lined coat a knife-thrust which had
+grazed his ribs. Matheson had beaten him off, and had then continued his
+path to the Basilique.
+
+But the attack had brought a vivid inspiration for the solution of his
+personal problem.
+
+He would slip off the personality of Clifford Matheson and take up
+completely that of John Riviere. He would leave his overcoat and stick
+by the riverside at Neuilly, and 'phone information about them to the
+police or to a newspaper. That knife-slit in his overcoat would be taken
+as evidence of murder. They would judge him murdered, with robbery as
+motive. The courts would give leave for Olive to presume death. She
+would be freed; she would come into her husband's fortune; she could
+marry again if she chose to.
+
+Surely that was the solution of his personal problem!
+
+For his part he could live his life unshackled, and there was sufficient
+money already standing in the name of Riviere at a Paris bank to give
+him a modest income on which to keep himself and pay for the materials
+of research.
+
+No one would be the worse for his disappearance; his wife would be the
+gainer; and mankind, he hoped, would be the gainer through the research
+to which he could henceforth devote his life.
+
+Yes, that was assuredly _the_ solution.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A SEAT BY THE ARENA
+
+
+Riviere had bought fresh clothes and other necessities at the suburban
+shops of Neuilly. He had shaved off his moustache; arranged his hair
+differently; put on a new shape of collar. It is curious how the shape
+of a collar is associated in most minds with the impression of a man's
+features. To change into another shape is to make a very noticeable
+difference to one's appearance.
+
+He had also bought travelling necessities. His intention was to wander
+for a couple of months. It would help him to clear his brain from the
+tangle of financial matters which still obsessed it against his will. He
+wanted to sweep out the Hudson Bay scheme, Lars Larssen, Olive, and many
+other matters from the living-room of his mind. He wanted a couple of
+months in which to settle himself in the new personality; plan out his
+future work in detail; set the mental fly-wheel turning, so as to
+concentrate his energies undividedly on the work to come.
+
+In the afternoon, old Mme Dromet entered the villa to scrub and clean.
+She had a standing arrangement to come two or three afternoons a week.
+
+"Are you going away from Paris?" shouted old Mme Dromet to her employer,
+seeing the portmanteau and the other signs of departure. She was
+stone-deaf, and in the manner of deaf people always shouted what she had
+to say.
+
+Riviere nodded assent, and produced a paper of written instructions.
+These he read through with her, so as to make sure that she thoroughly
+understood. Then he gave her a generous allowance to cover the next few
+months.
+
+Later in the afternoon, he was seated with his modest travelling
+equipment in a cab, driving to No. 8, Rue Laffitte. He mounted to the
+offices of the financier and, in order to test the efficacy of his
+changed appearance, asked to see Mr Clifford Matheson.
+
+For a moment the clerk stared at the visitor. The resemblance to his
+employer was certainly very striking. Yet there were differences. Mr
+Matheson wore a close-cut moustache, while this man was clean-shaven.
+The commanding look, the hard-set mask of the financier were softened
+away; there was joy of life, there was freedom of soul in the features
+and in the attitude of this visitor.
+
+"I am Mr John Riviere, his half-brother. Will you tell him that I am
+here?"
+
+The clerk felt somehow relieved. That of course explained the striking
+resemblance. He replied: "Mr Matheson has not been at the office to-day,
+sir. I fancy he has left for Monte Carlo. I am not sure, but I believe
+that was his intention."
+
+"Has he left no message for me?"
+
+"I will see, sir. Please take a seat."
+
+Presently the clerk returned. "I am sorry, sir, but there doesn't seem
+to be any message left for you."
+
+"Tell him I called," said Riviere, and went back to his cab. In it he
+was driven to the Gare de Lyon. At the booking-office he asked for a
+ticket for Arles. His intention was to travel amongst the old cities of
+Provence, and then make his way to the Pyrenees and into Spain. There
+was no definite plan of journey; he wanted only some atmosphere which
+would help him to clear his mind for the work to come. In the Midi the
+early Spring would be breathing new life over the earth.
+
+About midnight the southern express stopped at some big station. The
+rhythmic sway and clatter of a moving train had given place to a
+comparative stillness that awoke John Riviere from sleep. He murmured
+"Dijon," and composed himself to a fresh position for rest. Some hours
+later there was again a stoppage, and instinctively he murmured
+"Lyon-Perrache." The phases of the journey along the main P.L.M. route
+had been burnt into him from the visits with Olive to Monte Carlo.
+
+In the morning the strange land of Provence opened out under mist which
+presently cleared away beneath the steady drive of the sun. The low
+hills that border the valley of the Rhone cantered past him--quaint,
+treeless hills here scarped and sun-scorched, there covered with low
+balsam shrubs. Now and again they passed a straggling white village
+roofed with big, curved, sun-mellowed tiles. Around the village there
+would be a few trees, and on these the early Spring of the Midi had laid
+her fingers in tender caress.
+
+The air was keen and yet strangely soft; to Riviere it was wine of life.
+He drew it in thirstily; let the wind of the train blow his hair as it
+listed; watched greedily the ever-changing landscape. The strange bare
+beauty of this land of sunshine and romance brought him a keen thrill of
+happiness.
+
+It was as though he had loosed himself from prison chains and had
+emerged into a new life of freedom.
+
+In full morning they reached Arles, the old Roman city in the delta of
+the Rhone. It clusters, huddles around the stately Roman arena on the
+hill in the centre of the town--a place of narrow, tortuous _ruelles_
+where every stone cries out a message from the past. In the lanes, going
+about the business of the day, were women and girls moulded in the
+strange dark beauty of the district--the "belles Arlesiennes" famous in
+prose and verse.
+
+Yet chiefly it was the arena that fascinated him. All through the
+afternoon he wandered about the great stone tiers, flooded in sunlight,
+and reconstructed for himself a picture of the days when gladiators down
+below had striven with one another for success--or death. The arena was
+the archetype of civilized life.
+
+Now he was a spectator, one of the multitude who look on. It was good to
+sit in the flooding sunlight and know that he was no longer a gladiator
+in the arena. There was higher work for him to do, away from the
+merciless stabbing sword and the cunning of net and trident.
+
+At intervals during the afternoon a few tourists--mostly
+Americans--rushed up in high-powered, panting cars to the gateway of the
+arena; gave a hurried ten minutes to the interior; and then whirled away
+across the white roads of the Rhone delta in a scurry of dust.
+
+Only one visitor seemed to realize, like himself, the glamour of the
+past and to steep the mind in it. This was a woman. Her age was perhaps
+twenty-five, in her bearing was that subtle, scarcely definable,
+sureness of self which marks off womanhood from girlhood. She climbed
+from tier to tier of the amphitheatre with firm confident step; stood
+gazing down on her dream pictures of the scene in the arena; moved on to
+a fresh vantage-point. She wore a short tailored skirt which ignored the
+ugly, skin-tight convention of the current fashion. Her cheeks were
+fresh with a healthy English colour; her eyes were deep blue, toning
+almost to violet; her hair was burnished chestnut under the soft felt
+hat curled upwards in front; a faint odour of healthy womanhood formed
+as it were an aura around her.
+
+All this John Riviere had noticed subconsciously as she passed close by
+him on the ledge where he sat, walking with her firm, confident step.
+Though he noted it appreciatively, yet it disturbed him. He did not want
+to notice any woman. He had big work to do, and on that he wanted to
+concentrate all his faculties. He had had no thought of a woman in his
+life when he broke the chains that shackled him to the Clifford Matheson
+existence. He purposed to have no call of sex to divert him from the
+realization of his big idea.
+
+Presently she had climbed to the topmost ledge of the amphitheatre, and
+stood out against the sky-line of the sunset-to-be, deep-chested,
+straight, clean-limbed, a very perfect figure of a modern Diana.
+
+It is a dangerous place on which to stand, that topmost ledge of the
+amphitheatre, with no parapet and a sheer drop to the street below.
+Almost against his will, Riviere mounted there.
+
+But there was no occasion for his help, and they two stood there, some
+yards apart, silent, watching the red ball of the sun sink down into the
+limitless flats of the Camargue, and the grey mist rising from the
+marshes to wrap its ghostly fingers round this city of the ghostly past.
+
+Twice she looked towards him as though she must speak out the thoughts
+conjured up by this splendid scene. It wanted only some tiny excuse of
+convention to bridge over the silence between them, but Riviere on his
+side would not seek it, and the woman hesitated to ask him to take up
+the thread that lay waiting to his hand.
+
+A cold wind sprang up, and she descended and made her way to her hotel
+on the Place du Forum.
+
+At dinner in the deserted dining-room of his hotel, Riviere found
+himself seated at the next table to her. There are only two hotels
+worthy of the name in Arles, and the coincidence of meeting again was of
+the very slightest. Yet somehow he felt subconsciously that the arm of
+Fate was bringing their two lives together, and he resented it.
+
+The silence between them remained unbroken.
+
+In the evening he wrapped himself in a cloak against the bitter wind
+rushing down the valley of the Rhone and spreading itself as an
+invisible fan across the delta, and wandered about the dark alleys of
+the town, twisting like rabbit-burrows, lighted only here and there with
+a stray lamp socketed to a stone wall. Now he had left the big-thoughted
+age of the Romans, and was carried forward to the crafty, treacherous
+Middle Ages. In such an alley as this, bravos had lurked with daggers
+ready to thrust between the shoulder-blades of their victims. Now he was
+in a wider lane through which an army had swept pell-mell to slay and
+sack, while from the overhanging windows above desperate men and women
+shot wildly in fruitless resistance. Now he was in another of the
+lightless rabbit-burrows....
+
+A sudden sharp cry of fear cut out like a whip-lash into the blackness.
+A woman's cry. There were sounds of angry struggle as Riviere made
+swiftly to the aid of that woman who cried out in fear.
+
+Stumbling round a corner of the twisting alley, he came to where a gleam
+from a shuttered window showed a slatted glimpse of a woman struggling
+in the arms of a lean, wiry peasant of the Camargue. Riviere seized him
+by the collar and shook him off as one shakes a dog from the midst of a
+fray. The man loosed his grip of the woman, and snarling like a dog,
+writhed himself free of Riviere. Then, whipping out a knife from his
+belt, he struck again and again. Riviere tried to ward with his left
+arm, but one blow of the knife went past the guard and ripped his cheek
+from forehead to jawbone.
+
+At that moment a shutter thrown open shot as it were a search-light into
+the blackness of the alley, full on to the man with the knife, and
+Riviere, putting his whole strength into the blow, sent a smashing
+right-hander straight into the face of his adversary. Thrown back
+against the alley-wall, the man rebounded forward, and fell, a huddled,
+nerveless mass, on the ground.
+
+From doorways near men came out with lights ... there was a hubbub of
+noise ... excited questions eddied around Riviere.
+
+But the latter made no answer. He turned to find the woman who had been
+attacked.
+
+"Mr Riviere!"
+
+It was the woman who had stood by him on the topmost ledge of the
+amphitheatre, drinking in that glorious fiery sunset over the grey
+Camargue. She was flushed, but very straight and erect.
+
+"That brute was attacking me. Oh, if only I had had some weapon!" Then
+she noticed the blood dripping from the gash in his forehead, and cried
+out: "You're hurt! Take this."
+
+Her handkerchief was pressed into his hand. He answered as he took it:
+"It's nothing. Fortunately it missed the eye. And you?"
+
+"I'm not hurt, thanks. Oh, you were splendid! It makes one feel proud to
+be an Englishwoman."
+
+"Come to the hotel," he said, and ignoring the excited questioning of
+the knot of men, took her arm and led her rapidly to their hotel on the
+Place du Forum.
+
+"Let me dress your wound until the doctor can come."
+
+"I don't want a doctor," he replied coldly. A sudden aloofness had come
+into his voice.
+
+Her eye sought his with a piqued curiosity. For a moment, forgetting
+that here was a man who had rescued her from insult at considerable
+bodily risk, she saw him only as a man of curious, almost boorish
+brusqueness. Why this sudden cold reserve?
+
+Then, with a reddening of cheek at her momentary lapse from gratitude,
+she began to thank him for his timely help.
+
+Riviere cut her short. "There is nothing to thank me for. I didn't even
+know it was you. I heard a woman's cry--that was all. You ought not to
+go about these dark _ruelles_ alone at night-time."
+
+They were at the door of their hotel by now.
+
+"Can't I dress the wound for you?" she asked. "I've had practice in
+first aid, Mr Riviere."
+
+He paused suddenly in the doorway and asked her abruptly: "How do you
+know my name?"
+
+"I know more than your name. When your cut has been dressed, I'll
+explain in full."
+
+"Thank you, but I can manage quite well myself. Let us meet again in the
+_salon_ in, say, half an hour's time."
+
+They parted in the corridor and went to their respective rooms.
+
+When they met again, he had his head bound up with swathes of linen. His
+face was white with the loss of blood, and she gave a little cry of
+alarm.
+
+"You were badly hurt!"
+
+"No; merely a surface cut. But please tell me what you know about me."
+
+There was a quick change in her to a smiling gaiety. The man was human
+again--he had at all events a very human curiosity.
+
+"The name was from the hotel register, naturally," she answered. "But I
+know also that you are on your way to Monte Carlo, which certainly can't
+come from the register."
+
+Riviere's face became coldly impassive as he waited for her to explain
+further.
+
+"You are a scientist," she continued slowly, watching him to note the
+effect of her words. "You are to meet a lady for the first time at Monte
+Carlo. Yet she knows you by your first name, John. You see that I know a
+good deal about you."
+
+She waited for him to question her further, but he remained silent, deep
+in thought.
+
+More than a little piqued that he would not question further, she gave
+him abruptly the solution of the riddle.
+
+"Two nights ago I travelled here from Paris in the same train with an
+Englishwoman and her father. They took breakfast at the table near to
+mine in the restaurant car, and I could scarcely help overhearing what
+they were saying. They chatted about you. Then I found your name in the
+hotel register."
+
+"But why did you look it up?" he challenged abruptly.
+
+She parried the question. "The name caught my eye by accident. Naturally
+I was interested by the coincidence."
+
+Riviere turned the conversation to the impersonal subject of Arles and
+its Roman remains, and soon after they said good-night.
+
+"Shall I see you at breakfast?"
+
+"I hope so," he answered.
+
+As she moved out of the room, a splendidly graceful figure radiating
+health and energy and life full-tide, Riviere could not help following
+her with his eyes. His innermost being thrilled despite himself to the
+magic of her splendid womanhood.
+
+It plucked at the strings of the primitive man within him.
+
+In his room that evening he took up the blood-drenched handkerchief. In
+the corner was the name "Elaine Verney." The name conveyed nothing to
+him. He threw the handkerchief away, and shut her from his thoughts. He
+wanted no woman in this new life of his.
+
+With the morning came a resolution to avoid her altogether. He rose very
+early and took the first train out of Arles.
+
+It took him to Nimes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+WHO AND WHERE IS RIVIERE?
+
+
+"Who is Riviere?"
+
+Here was a new factor in the situation. Lars Larssen mentally docketed
+it as a matter to be dealt with immediately. After sending off a reply
+telegram to Cherbourg (which reached the quayside too late and was
+afterwards returned to him), the shipowner got a telephone call through
+to Olive at the Hotel des Hesperides.
+
+"This is Mr Larssen speaking. Are you Mrs Matheson?"
+
+"Yes. Good morning."
+
+"Good morning. I called you up to say that your husband has sailed for
+Canada on 'La Bretagne.' I had a line from Cherbourg this morning."
+
+"So had I."
+
+"I suppose he explained matters to you?"
+
+"No, he referred me to you for explanations. Just like Clifford!... What
+about Riviere--is he coming to Monte?"
+
+Lars Larssen had to tread warily here. So he answered: "I didn't quite
+catch that name."
+
+"John Riviere, my husband's half-brother. He lives in some suburb of
+Paris, I forget where, and Clifford was to bring him along to Monte."
+
+The shipowner decided that he must find this man and discover if he knew
+anything. The words of Jimmy Martin flashed through his brain: "I doubt
+if the police'll do much unless the relatives kick up a shindy."
+Meanwhile, there was nothing to do but tell the truth, which was his
+usual resource when in an unforeseen difficulty.
+
+"Don't know anything about him. If you give me his Paris address I'll
+dig him out."
+
+"We don't know his address."
+
+"Then I'll find it at the office. As soon as I get a line on him I'll
+wire you. Riviere? The name sounds French."
+
+"French-Canadian. He's a couple of years older than Clifford, I
+believe.... When are you coming yourself?"
+
+"To-night's train or to-morrow. I'm not sure if I can get away
+to-night."
+
+"Do you play roulette?"
+
+"No. Never been at the tables."
+
+"Then I must teach you," said Olive gaily.
+
+"Delighted!"
+
+After the telephone conversation, Larssen went straight to No. 8, Rue
+Laffitte. He had wired the night before to London to have a secretary
+sent over--Sylvester, his usual confidential man, if the latter were
+back at business; if not, another subordinate he named. Catching the
+nine o'clock train from Charing Cross, the secretary would arrive in
+Paris about five in the afternoon. Meanwhile, Larssen, had to make his
+search for Riviere in person.
+
+The business of a financier differs radically from a mercantile
+business on the point of staff. The main work of negotiation can only be
+carried out by the head of the firm himself, as a rule, and the routine
+work for subordinates is small, except when a public company flotation
+is being made. Matheson had found that his Paris office needed only a
+manager, Coulter, and a couple of clerks, one English and one French.
+Coulter was a steady-going, reliable man of forty odd, extremely
+trustworthy and not too imaginative.
+
+He knew Lars Larssen, of course, and received him deferentially.
+
+"What can I have the pleasure of doing for you, sir?"
+
+"I want the address of Mr John Riviere. Or rather, Mrs Matheson wants
+it."
+
+"Who is Mr John Riviere?"
+
+This came as a fresh surprise to Lars Larssen, and made him doubly
+anxious to discover the man. Why all this mystery surrounding him?
+
+"I understand from Mrs Matheson that Mr Riviere is her husband's
+half-brother. Lives somewhere around Paris."
+
+"Strange! I've never heard of him myself. I'll make enquiries if you'll
+wait a moment."
+
+Presently Coulter returned with the young English clerk of the office.
+
+"It seems that Mr Riviere called here yesterday afternoon and enquired
+for Mr Matheson," explained Coulter.
+
+Lars Larssen turned to the young clerk with a questioning look. "It was
+the first time I had ever seen him, sir," said the clerk. "He came in
+and asked quite naturally for Mr Matheson. There was an astonishing
+likeness between them, but that was explained at once when he told me
+they were half-brothers."
+
+"An astonishing likeness?"
+
+"When I say a likeness, sir, I mean of course in a general way. Mr
+Riviere is younger and different in many ways."
+
+"Describe him."
+
+The clerk did so to the best of his ability.
+
+"Did he leave an address?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Or a message?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Or say where he was going?"
+
+The clerk could offer no clue to the whereabouts or intentions of John
+Riviere. Repeated questioning added little to the meagre information
+already given.
+
+"Mr Matheson has not been at the office to-day or yesterday. Have you
+seen anything of him?" asked Coulter of the shipowner.
+
+"I know. He's away to Canada."
+
+"To Canada!"
+
+"Yes. We discussed the matter the night I was here. Hasn't he written
+you?"
+
+"We've heard nothing."
+
+"Reckon you will to-day.... Say, couldn't you look in Mr Matheson's desk
+to find the address of this Mr Riviere?"
+
+Coulter was the financier's confidential man. He had full power to go
+over his employer's desk except for certain drawers labelled "Private,"
+and he did so now.
+
+When he came back from the search, he had an envelope in his hand
+addressed "Lars Larssen, Esq."
+
+"All I could find was this envelope for you, sir. There seems to be no
+record of Mr Riviere's address."
+
+The shipowner slit open the letter and read it with a countenance that
+gave no clue whatever to what was passing in his mind.
+
+"My dear Larssen," it ran, "I estimate your expenses on the Hudson Bay
+scheme at roughly L20,000, and I enclose cheque for that amount. If this
+is right, please let me have a formal receipt and quittance. I want you
+to understand that my decision on the matter is final. I regret that I
+am obliged to back out at the last moment, but no doubt you will be able
+to proceed without my help."
+
+The letter was in handwriting, and had not been press-copied. Larssen
+noted that point at once with satisfaction. But the letter itself gave
+him uneasiness. It explained nothing of Matheson's motives. From the
+'phone conversation with Olive, it was clear that she had no suspicion
+that her husband wanted to withdraw from the Hudson Bay deal. In fact,
+she had asked anxiously if anything had gone wrong with the scheme. Sir
+Francis Letchmere might of course be closer in Matheson's business
+confidence, and that was one of the reasons for travelling to Monte
+Carlo and talking to him face to face.
+
+But with his keen intuitive sense, Lars Larssen felt that the
+explanation was in some way connected with this mysterious John Riviere.
+It was imperative to get in touch with the man.
+
+Where was Riviere? Was there nobody who could throw light on his
+whereabouts? His jaw tightened as he began to chew on the problem. Paris
+is too big a city in which to hunt for a mere name.
+
+After thanking the manager, Larssen withdrew from the room. Passing
+through the outer office, he was addressed by the other of the two
+clerks, a young Frenchman.
+
+"Monsieur," said he in French, "here is a point which perhaps will be of
+service. I am at the window when Monsieur Riviere arrives _en
+taxi-auto_. On the _imperiale_ I see a portmanteau. Doubtless Monsieur
+Riviere journeys away from Paris."
+
+"Did you note the number of the cab?"
+
+The young Frenchman made a gesture of sympathetic negation. There had
+been no reason to look at the number, even if he could have read it from
+a window on the second story.
+
+"Thanks," said Larssen, but the information seemed at first sight
+valueless. A man takes an unknown cab from an unknown house in an
+unknown suburb to an unknown terminus, when he buys a ticket for an
+unknown destination. Sheer waste of energy to hunt for a needle in that
+haystack!
+
+Yet his bulldog mind would not let go of the problem. Presently he had
+found a new avenue of approach to it. If Riviere had travelled away from
+Paris on the evening of the 15th, probably he stayed that night or the
+next day at some hotel. There he would have to fill in his name, etc.,
+in the hotel register according to the strict requirements of the French
+law.
+
+Advertise in the papers for one John Riviere from Paris, age
+thirty-seven, staying at a hotel in the provinces on the 15th or 16th.
+Offer a reward for information. The average Frenchman is very keen on
+money; without a doubt he would answer the advertisement if he knew
+anything of John Riviere. Advertise in _Le Petit Journal_, _Le Petit
+Parisien_ and a few other dailies which cover France from end to end, as
+no English or American journals do in their respective countries.
+
+That was the right solution!
+
+Larssen did not pay the cheque for L20,000 into his bank. He was after
+big game, and a mere L20,000 was a jack-rabbit. It would be safer, he
+felt, to let it lie amongst his secret papers.
+
+When Sylvester, his private secretary, arrived by the afternoon train
+from London, Lars Larssen placed him in touch with only so much of the
+situation as he considered desirable. This was little. Sylvester was to
+stay in Paris while the shipowner went on to Monte Carlo. If the various
+advertisements brought a reply, Sylvester was to hunt out John Riviere
+in whatever part of France he might be, and then communicate with Lars
+Larssen for further orders.
+
+The secretary was a quiet, self-contained, silent man of thirty or
+thirty-one. A heavy dark moustache curtained expression from his lips.
+Not only could he carry out orders to the letter, but he was to be
+trusted to keep his head in any unforeseen emergency and act on his own
+responsibility in a sound, common-sense way. But Lars Larssen trusted no
+man beyond the essentials of any situation. His was the brain to plan
+and direct. He preferred obedient tools to brilliant, independent
+helpers.
+
+At the train-side, Larssen gave a final direction to his subordinate:
+"Keep me in touch with every move."
+
+Back at his hotel, Sylvester occupied himself with the development of
+some films he had taken on the Channel passage. In his hours of leisure
+he was a devoted amateur photographer. At the present time there was
+nothing to be done but wait the possible answer to the advertisement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AT MONTE CARLO
+
+
+Next day, the wonderful panorama of the Riviera was unfolding itself
+before the eyes of the shipowner. The red rocks and the dwarf pines of
+the Esterel coves, against which an azure sea lapped in soft caress....
+Cannes with its far-flung draperies of white villas.... The proud
+solemnity of the Alpes Maritimes thrusting up to the snow-line and
+glinting white against the sun.... Fairy bungalows nesting in tropic
+gardens and waving welcome with their palm-fronds to the rushing
+train.... The Baie des Anges laughing with sky and hills.... The
+many-tunnelled cliff-route from Villefranche to Cap D'Ail, where moments
+of darkness tease one to longing for the sight of the azure coves dotted
+with white-winged yachts and foam-slashed motor-boats.... Europe's
+silken, jewelled fringe!
+
+But scenery made no appeal to Lars Larssen. Scenery would not help him
+to the attainment of his great ambitions. Scenery was _no use_ to him.
+His delight lay in men and women and the using of them. Business--the
+turning of other men's energies to his own ends--was the very breath of
+his being.
+
+He was glad to reach the hectic crowdedness of the tiny principality of
+Monaco--that triple essence of civilization and sensuous luxury. He felt
+at home with the big idea that drew the whole world to the gaming tables
+to pay homage to the goddess Fortune. For a moment the suggestion came
+to him to buy up some beautiful islet and build a pleasure city on it
+which should be a wonder of the world. He was making a note of it for
+future consideration, when Olive and her father met him on the platform
+at Monte Carlo.
+
+"I thought perhaps you would bring John Riviere with you," said Olive
+after they had exchanged greetings. A strong desire had sprung up to see
+this mysterious relation of Clifford's, and to be balked of any passing
+whim was keen annoyance to her.
+
+"Bring a will-o'-the-wisp," answered Larssen.
+
+"Can't you find him?" asked Sir Francis. Larssen shook his head. "Gad,
+that's curious. Why doesn't he write? Bad form, you know. But when a
+man's lived all his life in the backwoods of Canada, I suppose one can't
+expect him to know what's what."
+
+Olive studied the shipowner keenly as they drove to their hotel. His
+massive strength of body and masterful purpose of mind, showing in every
+line of his face, attracted her strongly. Olive worshipped power, money,
+and all that breathed of them. Here was the living embodiment of money
+and power.
+
+After dinner that evening all three went to the Casino. The order had
+been given to Sir Francis Letchmere's valet that he was to bring over to
+the Salle de Jeux any telegram or 'phone message that might arrive.
+
+Larssen was keenly interested in the throng of smart men and women
+clustered around the tables. Here was the raw material of his
+craft--human nature. Moths around a candle--well, he himself had lit
+many candles. The process of singeing their wings intrigued him vastly.
+
+Olive explained the game to him with a flush of excitement on her
+cheeks. He noted that flush and made a mental note to use it for his own
+ends. She took a seat at a roulette table and asked him to advise her
+where to stake her money. Sir Francis preferred _trente-et-quarante_,
+and went off to another table.
+
+"I can see you've been born lucky," she whispered to Larssen.
+
+"I'll try to share it with you," he answered, and suggested some numbers
+with firm, decisive confidence. Though he had keen pride in his
+intellect and his will, he had also firm reliance on his intuitive
+sense. With Lars Larssen, all three worked hand in hand.
+
+Olive began to win. Her eyes sparkled, and she exchanged little gay
+pleasantries and compliments with the shipowner.
+
+"We've made all the loose hay out of _this_ sunshine," said Larssen
+after an hour or so, when a spell of losing set in. "Now we'll move to
+another table."
+
+Olive obeyed him with alacrity. She liked his masterful orders. Here was
+a man to whom one could give confidence.
+
+"Five louis on _carre_ 16-20," he advised suddenly when they had found
+place at another table.
+
+Without hesitation she placed a gold hundred-franc piece on the
+intersecting point of the four squares 16, 17, 19, 20. The croupier
+flicked the white marble between thumb and second finger, and it whizzed
+round the roulette board like an echo round the whispering gallery of St
+Paul's. At length it slowed down, hit against a metal deflector, and
+dropped sharply into one of the thirty-seven compartments of the
+roulette board. A croupier silently touched the square of 16 with his
+rake to indicate that this number had won, and the other croupier
+proceeded to gather in the stakes.
+
+Forty louis in notes were pushed over to Olive.
+
+At this moment Sir Francis' valet came up to Larssen with a telegram in
+his hand. The latter opened and scanned it quickly.
+
+"What is it?" asked Olive.
+
+"A tip to gamble the limit on number 14," replied Larssen smilingly.
+
+Olive placed nine louis, the limit stake, on number 14, and two minutes
+later a pile of bank-notes aggregating 6300 francs came to her from the
+croupier's metal box.
+
+"You're Midas!" she whispered exultantly.
+
+"Midas has a hurry call to the 'phone," he answered.
+
+For the telegram was from Sylvester, and it read:--
+
+"Fourteen replies to hand. Fourteen J. Riviere's scattered about
+France."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+LARSSEN TURNS ANOTHER CORNER
+
+
+"Clifford is a very shrewd man of business," remarked Larssen, drinking
+his third cognac at Ciro's at the end of a dinner which was a
+masterpiece even for Monte Carlo, where dining is taken _au grand
+serieux_. He did not sip cognac, but took it neat in liqueur glassfuls
+at a time. There was a clean-cut forcefulness even in his drinking,
+typical of the human dynamo of will-power within.
+
+Sir Francis puffed out a cloud of cigar-smoke with an air of reflected
+glory. He had helped to capture Matheson as a son-in-law, and a
+compliment of this kind was therefore an indirect compliment to himself.
+
+The capture of Matheson was, in fact, the most notable achievement of
+his career. Beyond that, he had done little but ornament the Boards of
+companies with his name; manage his estate (through an agent) with a
+mixture of cross conservatism and despotic benevolence; and shoot, hunt
+and fish with impeccable "good form." He was typical of that very large
+class of leisured landowner in whose creed good form is next above
+godliness.
+
+"Yes, Clifford has his head screwed on right," he said.
+
+"Before he left for Canada," continued Larssen, "he managed to gouge me
+for a tidy extra in shares for you and for Mrs Matheson."
+
+Olive had been markedly listless, heavy-eyed and abstracted during the
+course of the dinner, a point which Larssen had noted with some
+puzzlement. His mind had worked over the reasons for it without arriving
+at any definite conclusion. But now, at this unexpected announcement,
+her eyes lighted up greedily.
+
+"For me!" she exclaimed. "That's more than I expected from Clifford."
+
+The shipowner reached to take out some papers from his breast-pocket,
+then stopped. "I was forgetting. I oughtn't to be talking shop over the
+dinner-table."
+
+Sir Francis made an inarticulate noise which was a kind of tribute to
+the fetish of good form. He wanted to hear more, but did not want to ask
+to hear more.
+
+"Please go on," said Olive. "Talk business now just as much as you like.
+Unless, of course, you'd rather not discuss details while I'm here."
+
+"I'd sooner talk business with you present, Mrs Matheson. I think a wife
+has every right to be her husband's business partner. I think it's good
+for both sides. When my dear wife was with me, we were share-and-share
+partners." He paused for a moment, then continued: "Here's the draft
+scheme for the flotation."
+
+He held out a paper between Sir Francis and Olive, and Sir Francis took
+it and read it over with an air of concentrated, conscious wisdom--the
+air he carefully donned at Board meetings, together with a pair of
+gold-rimmed pince-nez.
+
+"Clifford will be Chairman," explained Larssen. "You and Lord St Aubyn
+and Carleton-Wingate are the men I want for the other Directors. I, as
+vendor, join the Board after allotment."
+
+"Where's the point about shares for me?" asked Sir Francis, reading on.
+
+"That doesn't appear in the prospectus, of course. A private arrangement
+between Clifford and myself. Here's the memorandum."
+
+This he handed to Olive, who nodded her head with pleasure as she read
+it through, her father looking over her shoulder.
+
+"Keep it," said Larssen as she made to hand it back. "Keep it till your
+husband returns from Canada."
+
+"When did he say he will be back?"
+
+"It's very uncertain. He doesn't know himself. It's a delicate matter to
+handle--very delicate. That's why he went himself to Montreal."
+
+"He wired me that he's travelling under an assumed name."
+
+"Very prudent," commented Larssen.
+
+"I don't quite like it," murmured Sir Francis. "Not the right thing, you
+know."
+
+Larssen did not answer, but Olive rejoined sharply: "What does it matter
+if it helps to get the flotation off and make money?"
+
+"Well, perhaps so. Still----"
+
+"Can you fix up St Aubyn and Carleton-Wingate?" asked Larssen.
+"Quickly?"
+
+"Yes, I expect so. But has Clifford approved this scheme?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Have you it with you?"
+
+"Have I what?"
+
+"I mean the agreement Clifford signed."
+
+Sir Francis, without knowing it, had stumbled upon the crucial weakness
+of Larssen's daring scheme. But it would have taken a far shrewder man
+than he to realize the vital import of the point from Larssen's easy,
+almost causal answer:
+
+"There's no signed agreement. We agreed the scheme in principle at the
+interview in Clifford's office, and he left details to you and me. His
+last words were: 'Tell my father-in-law to go ahead as quickly as he can
+manage.'"
+
+"But when I put this before St Aubyn and Carleton-Wingate, they'll be
+expecting me to--I mean to say, isn't it deuced irregular, you know?"
+
+Larssen did not answer this for a moment. He had a keen appreciation of
+the value of silence in business negotiations. He poured himself out
+another glass of cognac and drank it off. His attitude conveyed a
+contempt for Letchmere's cautiousness which he would be too polite to
+put into words.
+
+"If you'd sooner write to Clifford and have his agreement to the scheme
+in black and white ..." was his studiously, chilly reply.
+
+Olive put in a word: "I dislike all those niggling formalities."
+
+"Business is business," quoted her father sententiously.
+
+"Besides, Clifford will be back before the prospectus goes to the
+public."
+
+"Probably," agreed Larssen. "But in case he is not back in time, we're
+to go ahead just as if he were here. That's what he told me before he
+left Paris. Didn't he write you to that effect, Sir Francis?"
+
+"I heard nothing from him."
+
+"But I showed you my telegram," answered Olive. "Clifford said to refer
+to Mr Larssen for all details."
+
+"I must think matters over," said the baronet obstinately.
+
+Lars Larssen had been studying his man through half-closed eyelids, and
+he now summed him up with penetrating accuracy. It was not suspicion
+that made Sir Francis hesitate, but petty dignity. He had become huffed.
+He felt that his dignity had not been sufficiently studied in the
+transaction. Matters had been arranged over his head without formally
+consulting him. It was "not the thing"--"not good form."
+
+To attempt to force matters would merely drive him into deeper
+obstinacy.
+
+And yet it was _vital_ to Larssen's plan that Sir Francis should go
+ahead with the work of the flotation quickly--should go ahead with it in
+the full belief that Clifford Matheson had agreed to the scheme and to
+the use of his name. It was vital that Sir Francis should take the whole
+responsibility of the flotation on to his own shoulders. He was to make
+use of his son-in-law's name with the other prospective Directors and on
+the printed prospectus just as though Matheson were personally
+sanctioning it.
+
+Larssen himself planned to remain in the background and pull the wires
+unseen. When the revelation of Matheson's death came to light--as it
+inevitably must in the course of time--Letchmere would be so far
+involved that he would be forced to shoulder responsibility for the use
+of Matheson's name.
+
+To try to rush matters with Sir Francis would perhaps wreck the whole
+delicate machinery of the scheme. Larssen quickly resolved to get at him
+in indirect fashion through Olive, and accordingly he answered evenly:
+
+"Think it over by all means. There's plenty to consider. Take the draft
+scheme and look it through at your leisure.... Now what's the plan of
+amusement for to-night?"
+
+Before going to the Casino, Olive made an excuse to return to her rooms
+at the Hesperides. Alone in her bedroom, she took out from a locked
+drawer a hypodermic syringe in silver and glass, and a phial of
+colourless liquid. She held the phial in her hands with a curious look
+of furtive tenderness, fondling it softly. For many months past this had
+been her cherished secret--the drug that unlocked for her new realms of
+fancy and exquisite sensation.
+
+To herself she called it by a pet name, as though it were a lover.
+
+In the course of the evening's play at the tables, Larssen was struck
+with her increasing animation and gaiety. The heavy, listless look had
+left her eyes, and they now glittered with life and fire. When they
+left the tables to stroll by the milk-white terraces of the Casino,
+there was a flush in her cheeks and iridescence in her speech very
+different from a couple of hours before.
+
+A spirit of caustic, impish brilliance was in her. She turned it upon
+the people they had rubbed shoulders with at the tables; upon the people
+walking past them on the terraces; even upon her husband:
+
+"Clifford is a 90 per cent. success. There are men who can never achieve
+full success in any field whatever. They climb up to 70, 80, 90 per
+cent., and then the grade is too steep for them."
+
+"They stick."
+
+"Or run backwards downhill. I'm a passenger in a car of that kind. Near
+to the top, but not reaching it. So I get out to walk on myself."
+
+"There are mighty few men who have the 100 per cent. in them."
+
+"Tell me this, Mr Larssen. Did you know you were a 100 per cent. man
+when you started your business life, or did you come to realize it
+gradually?"
+
+"I knew it from the first," replied the shipowner steadily. "Knew it
+when I was a mere kiddy. Set myself apart from the other boys. Told
+myself I was to be their master. Made myself master. Fought for it.
+Fought every boy who wouldn't acknowledge it.... When I went to sea as
+cabin-boy on the "Mary R." of Gloucester, the men on the trawler tried
+to "lick me into shape," as they called it. They didn't know what they
+were up against. I used those men as whet-stones--used them to kick
+fear out of myself. You notice that I limp a little? That's a legacy
+from the days of the 'Mary R.'"
+
+Olive looked at him with open admiration. "That's epic!" she exclaimed.
+"How far are you going to climb?"
+
+Larssen had never revealed to any man or woman--save only to his
+wife--the great ultimate purpose of his life. He did not tell it to
+Olive. She was to be used as a pawn in the great game, just as he was
+using Sir Francis and the dead Clifford Matheson. It came upon him that
+she was now a widow. He would fan her open admiration so as to make use
+of it when she awoke to the fact of her widowhood.
+
+So he answered: "How far I climb depends on the help of my best friends.
+I don't hide that. When my dear wife was with me, she was an inspiration
+to me. No man can drive his car to the summit without a woman to spur
+him on."
+
+"Did marriage change you much?"
+
+"Strengthened me. Bolted me to my foundations.... But here I'm
+monopolizing the conversation with talk about myself. Let's switch. What
+are _your_ ambitions?"
+
+Olive laughed--a laugh with a bitter taste in it. "I wanted to help a
+man to drive his car to the summit, and the car has stuck. I could
+inspire, but my inspiring goes to waste. I'm an engine racing without a
+shaft to take up its energy. Clifford is developing scruples. I don't
+know where he caught them. I can't stand sick people. That's my
+temperament--I must have energy and action around me."
+
+"I understand that. Felt it myself at times," he answered
+sympathetically.
+
+Without apparent reason her thoughts skipped to a woman who had sat near
+them at the roulette table. "Wasn't she the image of a disappointed
+vulture? I mean the woman in green. Swooping down from a distance to
+gorge herself with a tasty feast, and then finding a man with a rake to
+chase her off. I chuckled to myself as I watched her. Do men and women
+look to you like animals? They do to me. Monte Carlo's a Zoo, only the
+animals aren't caged."
+
+"That's right! You're an extraordinarily keen observer, Mrs Matheson."
+
+Sir Francis Letchmere approached them beamingly from the direction of
+the Casino. He had won money at _trente-et-quarante_, and was feeling
+very pleased with his own judgment and powers of intellect generally.
+
+"Leave him to me," whispered Olive to Larssen. "I'll see that my father
+gets busy on the Hudson Bay Scheme. But on one condition."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"That you stay on at Monte for a few days. I don't want to be left here
+alone. I hate being alone."
+
+"I'm due back in London. Urgent business matters."
+
+"Leave them for a few days. Leave them to your managers. Stay here and
+amuse me."
+
+Larssen knew when to give way--or seem to give way--and how to do so
+gracefully.
+
+"I'll stay on without asking any conditions," he answered with
+flattering cordiality. "It's not often I get a command so pleasant to
+carry out!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+A LETTER FROM RIVIERE
+
+
+Olive made good her promise at once. She packed her father back to
+England the very next day, to get to work on the Hudson Bay flotation,
+and Lars Larssen remained on at Monte Carlo.
+
+Though he had led Olive to believe that he had given in merely to please
+her, yet his true motive was very different. His feelings towards her
+held no scrap of passion in them. He knew her as vain, shallow,
+feverishly pleasure-seeking--a glittering dragon-fly. As a woman she
+made no appeal to him. But as a tool to serve in the attaining of his
+ambitions, she might conceivably be highly useful.
+
+His true motive in remaining at Monte Carlo was double-edged--to bring
+Olive into the orbit of his fascination, and to mark time until the
+mystery of John Riviere had been set at rest.
+
+John Riviere worried him. Deep down in his being was a keen intuitive
+feeling that this mysterious half-brother of the dead man was in some
+way linked up with the attainment of his ambitions--to help or to
+hinder.
+
+Why had he not come to Monte Carlo as arranged? Why had he sent no line
+to Olive to excuse himself? Why had he made no further inquiry about
+Clifford Matheson--or had he indeed made some inquiry which might set
+him on the track of his brother's disappearance?
+
+It was vital to know how matters stood with this John Riviere before he
+could march forward unhesitatingly with the Hudson Bay flotation.
+
+The result of the advertisements in the Paris newspapers was annoying.
+Where the shipowner had hoped for one answer--or perhaps a couple
+pointing in the same direction--over a dozen had been received. This
+meant waste of precious time while Sylvester unravelled them. Over the
+'phone Larssen and his secretary had discussed the various answers;
+rejected some of them; wired for confirmatory details in respect of
+others. Provincial hotel-keepers and railway guards were so keenly "on
+the make" that they were ready to swear to identity on the slenderest
+basis of fact.
+
+In pursuit of two of the clues, Sylvester travelled as far north as
+Valognes in the Cotentin, and as far east as Gerardmer in the
+Hautes-Vosges. Both journeys were fruitless, and worse than
+fruitless--waste of precious time and energy.
+
+While Larssen waited eagerly for definite news from his secretary with
+whom he kept constantly in touch by telegram, news came in unexpected
+fashion through Olive.
+
+"I've just heard from Riviere," she announced. "He's at Arles--down with
+a touch of fever. That's the reason he hadn't written before. Those
+scientist people are terribly casual in social matters."
+
+"May I see the letter?" asked Lars Larssen. His reason for asking was a
+desire to study the man's handwriting and draw conclusions from it. He
+was a keen student of handwriting.
+
+After he had read through the note he remarked drily: "I guess I can
+give you another reason."
+
+"For his not writing?"
+
+"Yes.... _Cherchez la femme._"
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"This note was written by a woman."
+
+"It's a very decided hand for a woman."
+
+"Yes it is. I'd stake big on that. Look at the long crossings to the
+t's. Look at the way the date is written. Look at the way words run into
+one another."
+
+Olive examined the letter carefully, and laughed. "You're right," said
+she. "He's travelling with some woman. Those men who are supposed to be
+wrapped up in their scientific experiments--you can't trust them far!"
+
+Then she added with a curious touch of conscious virtue: "But he'd no
+right to get that woman to send a letter to _me_."
+
+Larssen had noted the printed heading to the letter, "Hotel du Forum,
+Arles," and he wired at once to Morris Sylvester to proceed to Arles and
+hunt out further details. It seemed an unnecessary precaution, but the
+shipowner never neglected the tiniest detail when he had a big scheme to
+engineer.
+
+His relief at the letter proved short-lived. Late that night came a
+message from Sylvester:--
+
+"Riviere not at Arles and not down with fever. Am following up further
+clues. Will wire again in the morning."
+
+Larssen did not show this wire to Olive. He had told her nothing of his
+search for Riviere--had not even appeared specially interested in him.
+But in point of fact his interest in the mysterious half-brother of the
+dead man was steadily growing with every fresh check to the search. The
+intuition on which he placed such firm faith told him insistently that
+John Riviere was a factor vital to the fulfilment of his ambitions.
+
+All the morning he looked for the telegram his secretary was to send
+him. It came in the early afternoon:--
+
+"Have found Riviere under extraordinary circumstances. Letter and
+photograph follow."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE SECOND MEETING
+
+
+Europe's beauty-spots of to-day were the beauty-spots of the Roman
+Empire two thousand years ago. Wherever the traveller around Europe now
+reaches a place that makes instant appeal; where harsh winds are
+screened away and blazing sunshine filters through feathery foliage;
+where all Nature beckons one to halt and rest awhile--there he is
+practically certain to find Roman remains. The wealthy Romans wintered
+at Nice and Cannes and St Raphael; took the waters at Baden-Baden and
+Aix in Savoy; made sporting centres of Treves on the Moselle and Ronda
+in Andalusia; dallied by the marble baths of Nimes.
+
+Nimes had captured Riviere at sight. His first day in that leisured,
+peaceful, fragrant town, nestling amongst the hills against the keen
+_mistral_, had decided him to settle there for some weeks. He had taken
+a couple of furnished rooms in a villa with a delightful old-world
+garden. For a lengthy stay he much preferred his own rooms to the
+transiency and restlessness of a hotel, and at the Villa Clementine he
+had found exactly what he required. The living-room opened wide to the
+sun. One stepped out from its French windows into the garden, where a
+little pebbly path led one wandering amongst oleanders and dwarf
+oranges and flaming cannas, to a corner where a tiny fountain made a
+home for lazy goldfish floating in placid contentment under the hot sun.
+Here there was an arbour wreathed in gentle wisteria, where Riviere took
+breakfast and the mid-day meal. At nightfall a chill snapped down with
+the suddenness of the impetuousness Midi, and his evening meal was
+accordingly taken indoors.
+
+Besides this little private preserve of his own, there was the beautiful
+public garden of Nimes--called the Jardin de la Fontaine--draping a
+hillside that looks down upon the marble baths of the Romans, almost as
+freshly new to-day as two thousand years ago. A thick battalion of trees
+at the summit of the hillside makes stubborn insistence to the northern
+_mistral_, so that even when the wind tears over the plains of Provence
+like a wild fury, scourging and freezing, the Jardin de la Fontaine is
+serene and windless. The _mistral_ goes always with a cloudless sky, as
+though the clouds were fleeing from its icy keenness, and the sun pours
+full upon the semi-circle of the Jardin de la Fontaine, turning it to a
+hothouse where the most delicate plants and shrubs can find a home.
+
+Here men and women in toga and flowing draperies have whiled away
+leisure hours, spun day-dreams, made love, or schemed affairs of state
+and personal ambition. To-day, it is still the resort of Nimes where
+everyone meets everyone else, either by design or by the chance
+intercourse of a small town.
+
+On a morning of _mistral_, Riviere was seated in the pleasant warmth of
+the Jardin, planning out a special piece of apparatus for his coming
+research-work. He was concentrating intently--so intently that he did
+not notice Miss Verney passing him with a very professional-looking
+campstool, easel and sketch-book.
+
+This second encounter was pure accident. Elaine had no intentions
+whatever of following the man who had left Arles with such boorish
+brusqueness, without even the conventional good-bye at the
+breakfast-table. She had come to Nimes because she was a worker, because
+this town contained special material necessary to her bread-winning.
+
+She had guessed that Riviere's hurried departure from Arles was made in
+order to avoid meeting her. It hurt. Woman-like, she set more value on a
+few pleasant words of farewell over a breakfast-table and a warm
+handshake than on a defence from assault at the risk of a man's life.
+The seeming illogicality of woman is of course a mere surface illusion.
+It hides a train of reasoning very different to a man's. It is a mental
+short-cut like an Irishman's "bull," which condenses a whole chain of
+thought into a single link.
+
+In this case Elaine knew that Riviere's rescue held no personal
+significance. He did not know at the time that it was _she_ who was
+being attacked. He would have gone to the defence of any woman under
+similar circumstances. While altruism appealed to her strongly in a
+broad, general way, it did not appeal when it came home in such a
+specific, individual fashion.
+
+On the other hand, a warm handshake at the breakfast-table would have
+its personal significance. It would be a homage to herself, and not to
+women in general. Its value would lie in its personal meaning.
+
+While she knew this thought was ungenerous, yet at the same time she
+knew that behind it there lay a sound basis of reason.
+
+Her pride--that form of pride which is a very wholesome
+self-respect--made her flush at the thought that Riviere would see her
+and imagine, in a man's way, that she had followed him to Nimes. She
+hurried on past him with a rapid side-glance. The situation was an
+awkward one. She had her work to do by the old Roman baths and the
+Druid's Tower on the hillside, and she could not leave Nimes without
+doing it.
+
+When he came face to face with her, perhaps it would be best to give a
+cold bow of formal recognition--the kind of bow that says "Good morning.
+I'm busy. You're not wanted."
+
+And yet, there was news for him in her possession of which he ought to
+be informed. It was only fair to the man who had defended her at
+considerable personal risk that she should do him this small service in
+return. In her pocket was a cutting of an advertisement in a Parisian
+paper, several days old, asking for the whereabouts of John Riviere.
+Very possibly he had not seen it himself. It was only fair to let him
+know of it. The stitches in his forehead, which she had noted as she
+hurried past--these called mutely for the small service in return.
+
+Elaine decided to wait until he recognized her, to give him the
+advertisement, and then to conclude their acquaintanceship with a few
+formal words of which the meaning would be unmistakable. Accordingly she
+set her campstool not far away from him, and began her sketching in a
+vigorous, characteristic fashion.
+
+It was an hour or more before her intuition warned her that Riviere was
+approaching from behind. As he passed, she raised her eyes quite
+naturally as though to look at the subject she was finishing. Their eyes
+met. Riviere raised his hat politely but without any special
+significance. His attitude conveyed no desire to renew their
+acquaintance. He did not stop to exchange a few words, as she expected.
+
+Elaine was hurt. She felt that he should at least have given her the
+opportunity to refuse acquaintanceship. And a sudden resolve fired up
+within her to humble this man of ice--to melt him, and bring him to her
+feet, and then to dismiss him.
+
+"Mr Riviere," she called.
+
+He stopped, and answered with a formal "Good morning."
+
+"I have something for you--some news."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Do you know that your friends are getting anxious about you?"
+
+Riviere's attention concentrated. "Which friends?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know which friends. But there's an advertisement in a Paris
+paper asking for your whereabouts."
+
+"Thank you for letting me know. What does it say?"
+
+She produced the cutting and handed it to him. He studied it in silence.
+There was no hint in its wording as to who was making inquiry--the
+advertisement merely asked for replies to be sent to a box number care
+of the journal. It struck Riviere that it must have been inserted by
+Olive.
+
+"Thank you," he said. "I hadn't seen it before."
+
+"I'm going to ask something in return," said Elaine, and smiled at him
+frankly. "I want to know why you're running away from your Monte Carlo
+friends."
+
+Most women of Riviere's world would have cloaked their curiosity under
+some conventional, indirect form of question. Her frank directness
+struck him as refreshing, and he answered readily: "The lady you saw in
+the Cote d'Azur Rapide was my sister-in-law, Mrs Matheson. Mrs Clifford
+Matheson."
+
+"The wife of that man!" she interrupted. There was anger and contempt in
+her voice.
+
+"You know him?"
+
+"My father lost the last remains of his money in one of that man's
+companies. It hastened his death."
+
+"Which company?"
+
+"The Saskatchewan Land Development Co. My father bought during the early
+boom in the shares."
+
+Riviere remembered that he himself had cleared L50,000 over the
+flotation, and the remembrance jarred on him. The company was a
+moderately successful one, but in its early days the shares had been
+"rigged" to an unreal figure. Still, he felt compelled, almost against
+his will, to defend his past action.
+
+"Did he buy for investment or merely for speculation?" asked Riviere.
+
+"I know very little about such matters."
+
+"As an investment, it would to-day be paying a moderate dividend."
+
+"My father had to sell again at a big loss."
+
+"It sounds very like speculation."
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"I'm very sorry to hear of the loss; but a man who speculates in the
+stock market must look out for himself. It's a risky game for the
+outsider to play."
+
+Elaine silently recognized the truth of his words. Then it came to her
+suddenly that Riviere had, a few moments ago, used the word
+"sister-in-law," and she said: "I was forgetting that Mr Matheson must
+be a relative of yours."
+
+"My half-brother."
+
+She looked at him with a searching frankness that was in its way a tacit
+compliment. He was radically different to the mental picture she had
+formed of the financier.
+
+He continued: "The lady you saw in the train was my sister-in-law. As
+you already know, she expects me to join her at Monte Carlo. I don't
+want to be drawn into that kind of life. I want to remain quiet. I have
+important work to do."
+
+"Scientific work, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes. And there's a big stretch of it in front of me. That's why I'm not
+travelling on to Monte Carlo. You understand my position now, Miss
+Verney?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"I'm right in calling you _Miss_ Verney?"
+
+"Yes." Then she added: "And you're wondering why an unmarried woman
+should be wandering alone amongst the by-ways of France?"
+
+"I can see that you also have work to do."
+
+Riviere looked towards her almost finished sketch of the Roman baths.
+She removed it and passed him the rest of the book. He found the book
+filled with curiously formal sketches and paintings of scenery--woodland
+glades, open heaths, temples, arenas, and so on. These sketches caught
+boldly at the high-lights of what they pictured, and ignored detail. The
+colouring was also very noticeably simplified--"impressionistic" would
+better express it.
+
+"They look like stage scenes," he commented.
+
+"They are. Sketches for stage scenes. I'm a scene painter. Just now I'm
+gathering material for the staging of a Roman drama with a setting in
+Roman Provence. Barreze is to produce it at the Odeon. It's my first big
+chance."
+
+Riviere pointed to one of her sketches. "Wasn't this worked into a scene
+for 'Ames Nues,' at the Chatelet?"
+
+"Quite right!"
+
+"I remember being very much impressed by it at the time.... Yours must
+be particularly interesting work?"
+
+"The work one likes best is always peculiarly interesting. That's
+happiness--to have the work one likes best."
+
+Seeing that Riviere was genuinely interested, she began to dilate on her
+work, explaining something of its technique, telling of its peculiar
+difficulties. She showed him her sketches taken at Arles; mentioned
+Orange, for its Roman arch and theatre, as a stopping-place on her
+return journey to Paris. There was a glow in her voice that told clearly
+of her absorption in her chosen work.
+
+Riviere was enjoying the frank camaraderie of their conversation.
+Suddenly the thought of the newspaper cutting came back to him sharply.
+If Olive had inserted that advertisement, she must have some special
+reason for it. Perhaps she wanted to communicate with him in reference
+to the "death" of Matheson. Some hotel-keeper or railway-guard would no
+doubt have seen the advertisement and answered it, letting her know of
+Riviere's stay at Arles.
+
+It would be prudent to write and allay suspicion. But he could not pen
+the letter himself, because his handwriting would be recognized by
+Olive.
+
+Riviere solved the difficulty in his usual decisive fashion. "Miss
+Verney," he said, "I wonder if you would do me a very big favour without
+asking for my reasons in detail? It's a most unusual request I'm going
+to make."
+
+Elaine remembered her resolve to thaw this man of ice, and bring him to
+her feet, and then dismiss him. She had thawed him already. To do him
+some special favour would be a most excellent means of attaining the
+second end. She answered:
+
+"Anything in reason I'll do gladly."
+
+"You know that I want to avoid Monte Carlo. I don't even want my
+sister-in-law to know that I'm at Nimes."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Will you write a letter for me to say that I'm unwell and can't travel
+away from Arles?"
+
+Elaine looked at him searchingly. "It's certainly a most unusual request
+to make of a mere acquaintance," she remarked.
+
+"I have good reasons for asking it."
+
+"Then I'll do what you ask."
+
+"Would you mind coming round to my rooms?"
+
+"Certainly; if you'll wait until I've finished this sketch."
+
+She worked on in silence for another quarter of an hour, completing her
+picture with rapid, vigorous brush-strokes. Then he took up her
+campstool and easel, and they walked together alongside the Roman
+aqueduct to the centre of the town, under an avenue of tall, spreading
+plane trees, yellow with the first delicate leaves of Spring like the
+feathers of a newborn chick.
+
+The sunshine caressed the little garden of the Villa Clementine,
+coquetting with the flaming cannas, twinkling amongst the pebbles of the
+paths, stroking the backs of the lazy goldfish. Seating Elaine in the
+arbour, Riviere brought out pen and ink and a sheet of paper headed
+"Hotel du Forum, Place du Forum, Arles," which he happened to have kept
+by accident from his visit to the town. Then he dictated a formal letter
+to Mrs Matheson, explaining that he was laid up with a touch of fever
+and would not be able to join her at Monte Carlo. The illness was not
+serious, and there was no cause for anxiety. Nevertheless it kept him
+tied. He hoped she would excuse him.
+
+"There will be a Nimes postmark on the envelope," commented Elaine as
+she wrote the address.
+
+"No; I shall go over to Arles this afternoon and post it there. As you
+know, it's scarcely an hour away by train." He glanced at his watch.
+"Past twelve o'clock already! Won't you stay and take lunch with me?
+Madame Giras is famous in Nimes for her _bouillabaisse_."
+
+She agreed readily, and a dainty lunch was soon served them in the
+covered arbour. Over the olives and _bouillabaisse_ and the _oeufs
+provencals_ they chatted in easy, friendly fashion about impersonal
+matters--the strange charm of Provence, art, music, the theatre.
+
+From that the conversation passed imperceptibly to more personal
+matters. Elaine, keeping to her resolve of the morning, led it in that
+direction. He learnt that she was an orphan; that her nearest relatives
+were entirely out of sympathy with her ideas and aspirations, and
+profoundly distasteful to her; that she took full pride in her
+independence and the position she was carving out for herself in the
+world of theatrical art.
+
+"To be free; to be independent; to live your own life; to know that you
+buy your bread and bed with the money you've earned yourself--it's fine,
+it's splendid!" said Elaine, with flushed cheek. "I wonder if men ever
+have that feeling as strongly as we women do?"
+
+"'To be free, sire, is only to change one's master,'" quoted Riviere.
+
+"'Master' is a word I should rule out of the dictionary," she replied.
+
+"And if ever your present freedom were suddenly denied to you by Fate?"
+
+She shivered, and moved a little into the full blaze of the sunshine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the afternoon Riviere took train to Arles. The way lies by vineyards
+and olive orchards alternating with open, wind-swept heathland. The
+stunted olive trees, twisted and gnarled, pictured themselves to him as
+little old men worn and weary with their fight against the winds. Here
+the _mistral_ was master and the olive trees his slaves.
+
+At Arles Riviere posted his letter in a box on the platform of the
+station, and asked of a porter when the next train would take him back
+to Nimes. Standing close by as he asked this question was a lean, wiry,
+crafty-looking peasant of the Camargue--a hard-bit youth toughened by
+his work on the soil. The most prominent feature of the face was the
+nose smashed out of shape. Riviere did not know that it was he himself
+who had left that life-mark on the young man only a few days before--he
+had almost forgotten the incident--but the latter recognized Riviere at
+once and went white with anger under the tanned skin.
+
+Whilst he would have taken a blow from the knife as "all in the game," a
+smash from a bare fist that made a permanent disfigurement was
+completely outside his code of sportsmanship. He resented it with the
+white-hot passion of the Midi.
+
+The meeting was pure chance. Crau, the young Provencal, was on the
+station to take train back to his home village in the marshes. Now he
+made a sudden resolution, and going to the booking-office, asked for a
+ticket for Nimes. He had relations in that town--small tradespeople--and
+he would pay a visit to them for a few days.
+
+"Our game is not yet finished, Mr Englishman," he muttered to himself.
+"No, not yet finished!"
+
+When the train reached Nimes, Riviere alighted from a first-class
+compartment, quite unconscious of being followed by the young Provencal
+from a third-class compartment. Outside the station, in the broad Avenue
+de la Gare that leads to the heart of the town, Riviere hailed a cab and
+gave the address, Villa Clementine.
+
+Crau was near enough to overhear.
+
+"Villa Clementine," he repeated to himself, and again "Villa
+Clementine," to fit it securely in his memory. Then his lips worked with
+passionate revenge as he thought: "You have spoilt my looks, Mr
+Englishman; and now, _sangredieu_, to spoil yours!"
+
+Before going to his relations, he went first to a chemist's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+AT THE MAISON CARREE
+
+
+The mystery of John Riviere intrigued Elaine. There was certainly a
+mysterious something about this man which she had not fathomed. His most
+open confidences held deep reserves. If he had not avowed himself a
+scientist, she would have classed him as a man of business. In those
+brief comments on Stock Exchange speculation, he had spoken in a tone of
+easy authority which goes only with intimate knowledge. He was no
+recluse, but a man of the world--a man who had clearly moved amongst men
+and women and held his place with ease.
+
+The idea that he was a boor had been entirely shelved. But why that
+brusque, boorish disappearance from Arles?
+
+Elaine, thinking matters over in the solitude of her room on the evening
+of the second encounter, was beginning to regret her resolve to humble
+John Riviere. It began to appear petty and unworthy. She had no doubt
+now that she could bring him to her feet if she wished, by skilful
+acting. Or even--in her thoughts she whispered it to herself--or even
+without acting a part.
+
+But that thought she thrust aside. She had her work to do in the
+world--the work that she loved. It called imperiously for all her
+energies. She was free, she was independent, her daily bread was of her
+own buying; and she wished circumstances to remain as they were.
+
+Elaine decided to give up her petty resolve. She would avoid meeting him
+intentionally, and if they met, she would bring the plane of
+conversation down again to the superficiality of mere tourist
+acquaintanceship--"meet to-day and part to-morrow."
+
+For his part, Riviere had found keen enjoyment in this frank
+camaraderie. They met as equals on the mental plane. Both were
+profoundly interested in their respective life-work. They held ideas in
+common on a score of impersonal topics. He told himself that he had
+behaved very boorishly in his abrupt departure from Arles. It had been
+unnecessary, as Chance had now pointed out to him by this second
+accidental encounter. This acquaintanceship was the merest passing of
+"ships that pass in the night"--in a day or two she would be away and
+back to Paris, and in all human probability they would never meet again.
+
+It was generous of her to have greeted him as though she had not noticed
+the abruptness of his departure from Arles. It was generous of her to
+have clipped out the newspaper advertisement and to have called his
+attention to it. He mentally apologized to her for his curt behaviour.
+
+The next morning, Riviere did not find Elaine at the Jardin de la
+Fontaine. He wanted to meet her. He wanted to let her know indirectly
+what he was feeling. And so, almost unconsciously, he found himself
+walking away from the Jardin towards the centre of the town, towards the
+ruined arena and the Roman temple known as the Maison Carree. Most
+probably she would be sketching at one or other of them.
+
+He found her at the Maison Carree--a square Roman temple on which Time
+has laid no rougher hand than on a white-haired mother still rosy of
+cheek and young of heart. Elaine was sketching it in her book with the
+bold lines of the scene-painter, ignoring detail and working only for
+the high-lights and deep shadows. Round her, peeking over her shoulders
+and chattering shrilly, were a group of children. In the background
+lounged a young Provencal peasant with a nose twisted out of shape.
+
+"Shall I lure the children away?" asked Riviere as he raised his soft
+felt hat.
+
+"Thanks--it would be a relief," answered Elaine, but with a coldness in
+her greeting that struck him as curious.
+
+A few coppers scattered the children; the peasant slunk sullenly away.
+His eye and Riviere's met, but there was no recognition on the part of
+the latter.
+
+"Are you working this morning?" asked Elaine presently.
+
+"No, I'm learning." He nodded towards her sketch-book. "May I continue
+the lesson?"
+
+"Compliments are barred," she replied stiffly. "I neither give nor take
+them."
+
+Riviere groped mentally for the reason of this curious change of
+attitude. Yesterday she had been frankly friendly; to-day she held
+herself distinctly aloof. Had he offended her in some way?
+
+He continued soberly. "I'm not paying insincere compliments. It isn't
+your sketch which interests me so much as your method of sketching. The
+directness of it. The way you get to the heart of the subject without
+worrying over detail. The incisiveness. I'm mentally applying your
+method to the problems of my own work.... To stand here and watch you
+sketching is pure selfishness on my part."
+
+"Like other men, you imagine that women can't get beyond detail." A
+flush had come into her voice. "All through the ages men have been
+learning from women and refusing to acknowledge it."
+
+"In which sphere?"
+
+"In every sphere."
+
+"Particularize."
+
+"Take novel-writing. Men sneer at the woman-novelist--say that she
+cannot draw a man to the life."
+
+"It's largely true."
+
+"What's the reason? Because one can't draw to any satisfaction without
+models to base on. Because a man never lets a woman into his innermost
+thoughts."
+
+"That argument ought to cut both ways."
+
+"It doesn't. Women give up their innermost secrets to men
+because----Well, because woman is the sex that gives and man the sex
+that takes. It's been bred in and in through the whole history of
+civilization."
+
+"Woman the sex that gives? That reverses the usual idea."
+
+"You're thinking of the things that don't matter--money, jewels, dress,
+mansions, servants. Those are the cheap things that man gives in return
+for the gifts that are priceless."
+
+Riviere shook his head. "You argue only from a limited knowledge of the
+world. There are plenty of women who take everything--_everything_--and
+give nothing in return. Perhaps you don't know such women. I do."
+
+"You mean women of the underworld? They are as men make them."
+
+"No, I'm thinking of _femmes du monde_. There are plenty of virtuous
+married women who are as grasping as the most soulless underworlder.
+Probably you don't see them. You look at the world in a magic crystal
+that mirrors back your own thoughts and your own personality in
+different guises. You see a thousand YOU's, dressed up as other people."
+
+Elaine had become very thoughtful. "My magic crystal--yes." she mused.
+"But surely everyone has his or her crystal to look into."
+
+"Some can keep crystal-vision and reality apart. That's 'balance' ...
+And there lies the failure of the feminists--in 'balance.' They make up
+a bundle of all the iniquities of human nature, and try to dump it on
+man's side of the fence."
+
+"I love argument, but art is long and my stay at Nimes very brief.
+To-morrow I must move on to Orange."
+
+"Then I'll not disturb you further. I expect you have a good deal to get
+through."
+
+"Yes. This afternoon it's the Pont du Gard; this evening the Druids'
+Tower."
+
+"This evening! The place is very lonely at night-time."
+
+"I know. But I must sketch it in moonlight. That's essential."
+
+"Remember Arles," warned Riviere. "You ought not to be alone."
+
+She nodded. "I know. But I have my work to do."
+
+Riviere felt uneasy over the matter. He did not wish to urge an
+undesired escort upon her, but he did not like to think of her working
+alone by the solitude of the Druids' Tower at night-time.
+
+"If I can be of any service to you while you are here at Nimes," he
+said, "you have only to send a note to the Villa Clementine."
+
+With that he said good-bye and left her. It seemed evident that he had
+offended her in some way. Possibly, he thought, it was by asking her to
+write that letter to Olive. Though she had agreed willingly enough at
+the time, it was possible that afterwards she had regretted it. It had
+offended against her sense of right. Riviere felt distressed.
+
+Then the remembrance came to him that this was the merest tourist
+acquaintanceship. To-morrow she would be leaving Nimes, and the episode
+would pass out of her thoughts. Probably they would never meet again. It
+was not worth further thought on either side.
+
+Resolutely he banished all thoughts of Elaine from his mind, and
+concentrated on his own work-problems.
+
+From the corner of a lane near the Maison Carree, Crau, the young
+Provencal, had been watching them keenly as they talked together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+BY THE DRUIDS' TOWER
+
+
+Mme Giras, the proprietress of the Villa Clementine, was a rosy, smiling
+body, plumped and rounded in almost every aspect, and with a heart of
+gold. Yesterday it had been plain to her shrewd, twinkling eyes that
+monsieur and mademoiselle were soon to make a match of it. Of course it
+was very shocking that mademoiselle should be travelling about alone at
+her age, but much could be forgiven in so charming a young lady.
+
+When Riviere returned to the villa for lunch, he found the table in the
+arbour laid for two, and by one plate a rose had been placed.
+
+"I have prepared for two," said Mme Giras, smilingly. "Is it not right?"
+
+"Thank you; but it will not be necessary," answered Riviere.
+
+"After all my preparations! And the lunch that was to be my _chef
+d'oeuvre_!" There was keen disappointment in her voice. "But perhaps
+mademoiselle will be coming to dine this evening?"
+
+"No, nor this evening. Mademoiselle is very busy with her work. She is
+to leave Nimes to-morrow."
+
+"And monsieur also?" There was tragedy in her tone. It must mean that
+monsieur would give up his rooms to follow the young lady.
+
+"I shall probably remain here for a month or more," answered Riviere
+somewhat stiffly: and then to salve her feelings: "You are making me
+wonderfully comfortable. I shall always associate the Midi with Mme
+Giras."
+
+"_Monsieur est bien amiable!_" replied the little old lady, much
+pleased. She hurried off to the kitchen to see that Marie was making no
+error of judgment in the mixing of the sauces.
+
+Riviere felt glad that the acquaintanceship with Elaine had progressed
+no further. It was decidedly for the best that it had ended where it
+had. Both of them had their life-work to call for all their energies.
+Further companionship would only divert them from it. In his innermost
+being he knew that, and now he acknowledged it frankly to himself. From
+every point of view, it was best that their acquaintanceship should end.
+
+But late that afternoon a brief note came from Elaine. "Dear Mr
+Riviere," it said, "I have considered your warning. If you will be so
+kind as to accompany me this evening while I am sketching the Druids'
+Tower, I shall be glad. I propose to leave the hotel about eight."
+
+Riviere was at her hotel punctually at eight. He helped her into her
+warm travelling cloak, and taking up her campstool and easel they walked
+briskly, with healthy, swinging strides, out by the avenue of plane
+trees bordering the Roman aqueduct.
+
+They ascended the now deserted garden on the hillside till they came to
+the ruined tower which was grey with age when Roman legions first swept
+in triumph over the country of the barbarians of Gaul. A chill wind set
+the pines and the olives whispering mournfully together. The windowless
+tower brooded over its memories of the past, like an aged seer blind
+with years. The moonlight touched it tentatively as though it feared to
+disturb its dreaming.
+
+It was a perfect stage scene for a secret meeting of conspirators. In
+the daylight, the tower was ugly with its rubble of fallen
+stones--unkempt like a ragged tramp--but in the moonlight there was a
+glamour of ages in its mournful brooding. Elaine was right to make her
+sketch at night-time. Riviere placed the campstool for her, and watched
+her in silence as she plied her pencil with swift, decisive lines.
+
+With lithe, catlike softness, the youth Crau had followed them up the
+hillside, padding noiselessly in the shadows of the pines and olives.
+Crouching behind a tree, he felt in his breast-pocket and drew out a
+small package which he quietly unwrapped from its foldings. Then he
+waited his moment with every muscle tensed for action.
+
+The night wind was chill. Riviere started to pace up and down a few
+steps away from Elaine. He approached nearer to the tree behind which
+Crau was crouching in shadow.
+
+The lithe, wiry figure of the young Provencal sprang out upon him.
+
+"Now you'll pay me what you owe!" he cried out in Provencal. "You cursed
+pig of an Englishman!"
+
+Riviere did not understand the words, but the menace in the voice left
+no doubt as to the meaning. And the voice brought back to him the narrow
+_ruelle_ at Arles where he had defended Elaine from the insult of the
+half-drunken peasant.
+
+He was about to step forward to grapple with him, when a warning cry
+from Elaine stopped him for one crucial instant.
+
+"Look out! There's something in his hand!" she called, and rushed
+impetuously forward to make her warning clear.
+
+As she came within range, Crau raised his arm to throw his vitriol into
+Riviere's face, but in a fraction of a second a sudden thought changed
+the direction of his aim.
+
+"Your beautiful mistress! that will serve me better!" he hissed out
+venomously as he flung it full upon Elaine; then fled at top speed.
+
+"My eyes! Oh God, my eyes!" she cried, as she staggered to the ground.
+
+Riviere sprang to her side, white with alarm. "The beast!"
+
+"My eyes! Oh God, my eyes!" she moaned. "My eyes--my livelihood!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+WAITING THE VERDICT
+
+
+Elaine lay in Riviere's room in the Villa Clementine. The doctor was
+injecting morphine, and a sister of mercy, grave-eyed under her spotless
+white coif like a Madonna of Francia, spoke soft words of comfort to
+soothe the agony of the blinded girl.
+
+In the adjoining room Riviere waited the decision of the doctor--waited
+in tense, straining anxiety.
+
+From that moment by the Druids' Tower when the vitriol had been flung
+upon Elaine, he had lived through a nightmare. Up on the hillside he was
+impotent to relieve her agony. No house around to take her to. Without a
+moment's delay he must get her into the hands of a doctor.
+
+At first he had tried to lead her down the hillside, along the winding
+paths of the gardens, his hands around her shoulders. It was too slow.
+Twice the moaning girl had tripped over unseen obstacles. Then he caught
+her up in his arms and ran with her, the shadows of the trees and the
+undergrowth clutching at him like mocking shapes in a Dantesque vision
+of the nether world.
+
+Even when down below the hillside, by the aqueduct, they were still far
+from the Villa Clementine and yet farther from Elaine's hotel by the
+station. Some conveyance was imperative. But in a quiet country town
+like Nimes there are no cabs to be found wandering around at night-time.
+Nor was there carriage or motor-car in sight.
+
+A peasant's cart drawn by a tiny donkey came providentially to solve the
+problem. Riviere laid Elaine on the straw of the cart; snatched the
+reins from the owner; drove home at frantic speed; had her put to bed in
+his own room by Mme Giras; 'phoned imperatively for a doctor and a
+nurse.
+
+And now he waited in straining anxiety for the verdict. The waiting was
+more horrible than the nightmare flight through the shadows of the
+garden on the hillside. That at all events had been action; now he was
+being stretched in passive helplessness on the rack of Time.
+
+After an aeon of waiting, the doctor left the sick-room and closed the
+door noiselessly behind him. Riviere looked him square in the eye.
+
+"I want the truth," he said in French. The words sounded as though his
+throat had closed in tight around them.
+
+"We must wait until the morning before it will be possible that we may
+say definitely," replied the doctor.
+
+"To say if----?"
+
+"If we can save the right eye."
+
+"The left?"
+
+"I greatly fear----" A slight gesture of his two hands completed the
+sentence.
+
+"It's ghastly! That _beast_----!"
+
+"But you must not despair," continued the doctor in an endeavour to be
+optimistic. "Madame is strong and healthy. She has a very sound
+constitution, and in such a case as this it is a most important factor
+in the recovery. You may rely on me to do my utmost. I have great hopes
+that we may save the right eye of madame, your wife."
+
+"Mademoiselle," corrected Riviere mechanically.
+
+"Mademoiselle," amended the doctor with a formal little bow.
+
+"You will come again later to-night?"
+
+"That would serve no useful purpose. I have injected a large dose of
+morphine, and mademoiselle is on the point of sleep. I have left full
+instructions with the Sister, and if anything unforeseen occurs, she
+will communicate with me by telephone."
+
+"I have a further question to ask you, doctor. Mademoiselle Verney is
+alone in Nimes. She has no friends here beyond myself, and she has been
+staying at the Hotel de Provence while passing through the town. Would
+it be better for her to be at the hotel, or at the town hospital, or
+here?"
+
+"Here--decidedly!" answered the doctor. "Mme Giras is kindness itself--I
+know her well. I recommend that mademoiselle stay here."
+
+Riviere could do nothing but wait the verdict of the morning, tortured
+by hopes and fears. The doctor had spoken of saving the right eye, but
+was this mere professional optimism?
+
+Suppose Elaine were blinded for life--blinded on his account. What was
+she to do for her livelihood? He knew that she was an orphan; that her
+relations were repellant to her; and her pride could scarcely let her
+throw herself for long on the hospitality of her friends in Paris. Her
+slender means would soon be exhausted--what was she to do then?
+
+With overwhelming conviction Riviere saw the inevitable solution. She
+had been blinded while trying to save him. The debt, the overwhelming
+debt, lay on him. He must provide for her, guard over her.
+
+If she would accept such help....
+
+In the cold grey of a mist-shrouded morning he woke with a new insistent
+thought hammering into his brain. For the first time since he had taken
+up the personality of John Riviere, doubt surged upon him in wave after
+wave of icy, sullen surf. Had he had the right to cut loose from the
+life of Clifford Matheson? Had one alone of a married couple the right
+to decide on such a separation? Had he violated some unwritten law of
+Fate, and was this the hand of Fate punishing him through the woman he
+cared for more deeply than he had yet confessed to himself?
+
+He knew now that from the first moment of their meeting by the arena of
+Arles she had opened within him--against his volition--a whole realm of
+inner feelings which up till then had lain dormant. He had wanted no
+woman in this new life of his, and both at Arles and at Nimes he had
+tried to shut and bolt the gate of the secret realm. Sincerely he had
+wanted to give his whole thoughts and energies to his future work, but
+here was something which persisted in his inner consciousness against
+his will. It was like curtaining the windows and shutting one's eyes
+against a storm--in spite of barriers the lightning slashes through to
+the retina of the eye.
+
+Was Fate to punish him through the woman he loved?
+
+Riviere rose with determination and flung the thought aside. "Fate" was
+only a bogey to frighten children with. "Fate" was a coward's master.
+Every man had the right to rough-hew his own life. He, Riviere, had
+chosen his new life with eyes open, and, right or wrong, he would stick
+by his choice and hew out his life on his own lines. If "Fate" were
+indeed a reality, then he would fight it as he had fought Lars Larssen.
+He would unknot the tangled threads at whatever cost to himself.
+
+The doctor looked very grave when he had left Elaine's bedside the next
+morning.
+
+"The injuries are very serious," he told Riviere. "The cornea of the
+right eye has almost been destroyed by the acid. It will heal over, but
+the sight will not be as it was before."
+
+"You mean blinded for life--in both eyes?" asked Riviere, ruthless for
+his own feelings.
+
+"We must not hope for too much," hedged the doctor. "A great deal
+depends on the course of the recovery. I wish not to raise false
+hopes...."
+
+"You must pardon what I am going to say, doctor. I have every confidence
+in your skill, but is it not possible that the help of an eye specialist
+from Paris or Lyons might be of service?"
+
+The doctor put false dignity aside and answered sympathetically: "You
+are right, monsieur, a specialist _is_ needed. As soon as mademoiselle
+can stand the long journey, I would advise that she be taken to
+Wiesbaden, to the very greatest specialist in the world."
+
+"You mean Hegelmann?"
+
+"None other."
+
+"It would not be possible for him to travel to here?"
+
+The doctor shook his head decisively. "Only for kings does he travel. He
+has too many patients in his surgical home at Wiesbaden who need him
+daily."
+
+"When will mademoiselle be able to make the journey?"
+
+"Within the week, I hope."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Information of the attack had of course been given to the police, who
+were hot on the trail of the youth Crau. Meanwhile the local papers sent
+their reporters to interview Riviere. He was too well accustomed to the
+ways of pressmen to refuse an interview. He received them and replied
+with the very briefest facts of the case, explaining that he wished to
+avoid publicity so far as it was possible. He asked them at all events
+to leave out names, as French journals will sometimes do, on request.
+
+Amongst the callers was an Englishman who sent in word that he was a
+local correspondent for the _Europe Chronicle_. Riviere had him shown
+into the garden of the villa, to the arbour. The would-be interviewer
+was a man of thirty, quiet and secretive looking, with a heavy dark
+moustache curtaining the expression of his lips. "Morris Sylvester" was
+the name on his card.
+
+He carried a hand-camera, which he placed on a seat beside him and
+pointed it towards the path from the house. As Riviere approached,
+Sylvester's left hand was fingering the silent release of the
+instantaneous shutter. He had made a practice of working his camera
+surreptitiously while his eyes held the eyes of his subject.
+
+"Mr Sylvester," began Riviere, "I want to ask you a favour, as one
+Englishman to another. Publicity is extremely distasteful to the lady
+who has been so terribly injured. To have her story spread broadcast for
+the satisfaction of idle curiosity would only add to her sufferings.
+Isn't it possible for you to suppress this story?"
+
+Sylvester looked hesitant. "I am sincerely sorry for the lady," he said.
+"But of course I have my duty to my journal. I had intended to wire a
+full column, and take a picture of the scene of the attack by the
+Druids' Tower." He took up his camera from the seat beside him, as
+though to show his purpose.
+
+After a moment of reflection he added: "Would it satisfy you if I were
+to suppress names?"
+
+"I would much rather you wrote nothing at all," replied Riviere. "I know
+that I can't insist. I appeal to your generosity in the matter."
+
+"Very well. Under the circumstances, in deference to the feelings of
+your friend, I'll take it on myself to suppress the story."
+
+"That's very kind of you. Is there no form of _quid pro quo_...?"
+suggested Riviere tentatively.
+
+"Thanks--nothing."
+
+"You'll take something with me before you go?"
+
+"Thanks--yes."
+
+Over the glasses Sylvester chatted pleasantly about matter of no
+import, and then brought the conversation round to the real object of
+his visit--to get certain information for Lars Larssen.
+
+"Your name seems familiar to me, somehow," he ventured. "Aren't you a
+scientist, Mr Riviere?"
+
+"I do a little private research work," was the guarded admission.
+
+"I seem to associate your name with that of Clifford Matheson, the
+financier."
+
+"My half-brother."
+
+"Ah, that's it.... A very remarkable man. I had the pleasure of
+interviewing him once, at his office in the Rue Lafitte."
+
+Riviere knew that for a lie. He had never seen Sylvester before, to his
+knowledge, and he had a keen memory for faces. What was the man driving
+at? He must try and discover. With his long years of business training
+behind him, Riviere became suddenly expansive, talking with apparent
+frankness without in reality saying anything of import.
+
+"As you say, a remarkable man. That is, as a financier. Personally I
+have no interests in that direction. My brother and I have very little
+in common. He is the man of affairs, and I am buried in my work. What
+was the subject of your interview with him?"
+
+"Canada's future. He gave me a splendid interview--first-rate copy,"
+lied Sylvester. "Have you seen your brother lately? Is he engaged on any
+big scheme just now? Perhaps you could put me on to a news story in that
+direction? I should be glad if you could."
+
+Riviere knew that Sylvester was fishing for information of some kind,
+but what it was puzzled him completely, unless the man were now speaking
+the truth in his statement that he was on the look-out for financial
+news. That seemed the only solution of the puzzle.
+
+"I've seen nothing of my brother lately," answered Riviere. "He's at
+Monte Carlo, I believe. I'm sorry not to be able to help you in the
+matter, but, as I said before, I'm very little interested in my
+brother's movements or plans. His ways and mine lie apart. If I hear of
+anything that might be of service to you, I'll let you know. Will you
+give me your address?"
+
+"Hotel de la Poste will find me. I travel about the Midi for the
+_Chronicle_. They'll send on any message for me at the hotel."
+
+"Many thanks for your kindness in the matter of suppressing the story of
+the attack," said Riviere, and his tone intimated that it was now time
+for the visitor to leave.
+
+Sylvester, having gained the objects of his visit, rose and took his
+departure. Inside half-an-hour he had developed an excellent snap-shot
+of Riviere walking along the garden path towards him. He wrote a long
+letter to Lars Larssen explaining that John Riviere apparently knew
+nothing of the disappearance of Clifford Matheson, and detailing the
+story of Elaine and the vitriol outrage.
+
+With the letter he enclosed a bromide print of the snapshot.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Inside a room, closely shuttered to keep out the light, Riviere was
+talking earnestly with Elaine a few days later. The agony of the first
+days had died down, but she was absolutely helpless. Her eyes were
+bandaged, and she was dependent on the sister of mercy and Mme Giras for
+everything.
+
+"Crau is in prison," said he. "I've given formal evidence against him,
+and he is remanded for trial a month hence. When you are well again,
+they will take your evidence on commission. He will undoubtedly be
+sentenced to hard labour for some years."
+
+"What does it matter to me--now?" There was despair in her voice.
+
+"The doctor is very hopeful for you, if you will put yourself under
+Hegelmann's care."
+
+"He can do nothing for me, I feel it. Only useless expense. No man can
+give me back the sight I want for my work."
+
+"In time," said Riviere gently, but he could not force conviction into
+his voice. It went hard with him to lie to the woman he cared for most
+in the world, even to bring temporary comfort to her.
+
+"My work. Barreze and the Odeon," she murmured slowly, speaking to
+herself rather than to him. "My work was my life. I remember your saying
+to me in the garden, by the arbour, only a few days ago: 'If Fate were
+to deny you your freedom!' I shivered even at the words.... Do you
+believe in Fate?"
+
+Riviere's fist was clenched as he answered: "I'll fight Fate for both of
+us."
+
+She was silent for a few moments. Then she asked: "Will you write a
+letter for me?"
+
+He brought pen and ink, and waited for her dictation.
+
+"My dear Barreze," she dictated slowly, "you must find someone else to
+paint your scenes of Provence. I am blinded for life----"
+
+"Don't ask me to write that!"
+
+"I am blinded for life," she continued with the clear tones of one whose
+mental vision sees the future unveiled. "They want me to go to Hegelmann
+at Wiesbaden. He is a great man, and will do for me all that surgical
+skill can do. There will be an operation--several, perhaps. It may
+perhaps give me a faint gleam of light--enough to tell light from
+darkness and to realize more keenly all that I have lost. I shall never
+see the theatre again--never paint again. I shall live on the memories
+of the past and the bitter thoughts of what might have been----"
+
+"I can't write it!" he cried, torn with the pathos of the words she bade
+him put to paper.
+
+"----of what might have been. My friends of the theatre must pass out of
+my life. They can have no use for a crippled, helpless woman, nor do I
+wish to cloud their happiness with my unwanted presence. Say good-bye to
+them for me. And you, my dear Barreze, I would thank for the chance you
+gave me. Your encouragement would have had its reward if I had kept my
+sight. But it is gone--gone for always--and I am wreckage on the
+rocks...."
+
+"Elaine, Elaine!" he cried. "You have me by your side! I ask you to let
+me devote my life to you!"
+
+The answer came gently: "I must not accept such a sacrifice. You offer
+it out of pity for me. Later, you would repent of it. You have your work
+to do and your life to live in the open sunshine.... Yet don't think me
+ungrateful. I am deeply grateful. I shall remember what you said out of
+pity for me, and treasure it amongst my dearest thoughts."
+
+"It's not pity, Elaine, but----"
+
+He stopped abruptly. The accusing hand of memory had touched him on the
+shoulder. He had no right to make any such offer--it had come from his
+heart in passionate sincerity, but it was not his to give. Olive was
+still his wife. Disguise it as he would, he was still Clifford Matheson.
+
+He must leave Elaine to think that pity alone had moulded his words. To
+explain to her now the shackles of circumstance that bound him fast
+would be sheer cruelty, for if she knew the whole truth, she would send
+him away from her and refuse even the temporary help he could give her.
+
+For Elaine's sake he must keep silent.
+
+A pause of bitter reflection raised a barrier of stone between them.
+When he spoke again, it was from the other side of the barrier. "At
+least you will let me stay by you until you leave Hegelmann's charge?
+That I claim.... And I believe he will be able to do for you much more
+than you imagine. He has worked wonders before. He will do so again. He
+is the foremost specialist in the world. All that money can command
+shall be yours."
+
+"Money is terribly useless," said Elaine sadly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+ONLY PITY!
+
+
+What was Elaine to do with her life?
+
+In those weary days of the sick-room at Nimes, and on the long railway
+journey through Lyons, Besancon and Strasburg to Wiesbaden, Elaine had
+turned over and over, in feverishly restless search for hope, the
+possibilities that lay before her.
+
+Her total capital was comprised in a few hundred pounds and the
+furniture of the flat she shared in Paris with a girl friend--a student
+at the Conservatoire. The money would see her through the expenses of Dr
+Hegelmann's nursing home and for a few months afterwards--a year at the
+outside. After that she must inevitably be dependent on the charity of
+friends or on some charitable institution.
+
+The thought of the time when her capital would be gone was like an icy
+hand gripping at her heart. "Money is terribly useless," she had said to
+Riviere, but there were times when she wished passionately that she had
+the money with which to buy comforts for a life of blindness. Those were
+craven moments, however--moments which she despised when they were past.
+Of what use to her would be the silken-padded cage she had longed to
+buy, when life held for her no work, no love?
+
+Riviere she had thought of a thousand times. His every action and word
+in the days of their first acquaintanceship came back to her with the
+wonderful inner clarity of sight and hearing that belongs to those who
+have no outer vision.
+
+She saw him at the arena of Arles, standing on the topmost tier a few
+yards distant from her, watching the red ball of the sun sink down into
+the mists of the grey Camargue. He was aloof and cold--icy,
+unapproachable, masked in reserve.
+
+She saw him in the _ruelle_ of Arles, with the light from the shuttered
+window falling on him in bars of yellow and black, fighting with Berserk
+fury against the bare knife of the Provencal youth. Here he was
+primitive man unchained--a Rodin figure with muscles knotted in a riot
+of hot-blooded passion. He was battling for her.
+
+No, not for her, but for the duty that a man owes to womankind. "I
+didn't even know it was you," he had said curtly. That had hurt her at
+the time, but now it seared into her. The rescue had meant nothing--it
+had brought him no nearer to her. He was still cold and aloof.
+
+She saw him in the Jardin de la Fontaine, lifting his hat with formal
+politeness and making to move on. Still aloof, still encased in cold
+reserve.
+
+With deliberate intent she had set herself to melt him, and she had
+succeeded. By the arbour of the Villa Clementine she saw him, chatting
+animatedly in keen enjoyment of her frank camaraderie. But that was only
+casual friendship. Still aloof in what now mattered vitally to her.
+
+She saw him seeking her out by the Maison Carree, standing to watch her
+sketch and passing to her the compliment of candid praise. Then he had
+come nearer, but by such a little!
+
+She saw him silvered in the moonlight by the Druids' Tower, standing at
+her easel. Here he would surely have revealed himself if he had had
+thoughts to utter of inner feelings. But he had remained silent.
+
+Then there rang in her ears his passionate declaration of the sick-room:
+"Elaine! Elaine! You have me by your side! I ask you to let me devote my
+life to you!"
+
+She weighed it scrupulously in the balance of reason, and judged it
+Pity. It was the hasty word of a chivalrous man torn by the sight of her
+helplessness. If it had been love, he would not have been stopped by her
+refusal. Love is insistent, headstrong, ruthless of obstacles. Love
+would have forced his offer upon her again and again. Love would have
+divined the doubt in her mind. Love would have drowned it in kisses.
+
+It was not Love but Pity that Riviere felt for her. And while she
+silently thanked him for it, it was not enough. She would not encumber
+the life of a man who felt merely Pity for her. That would be
+degradation worse than the acceptance of public charity.
+
+Out of all the turmoil of her fevered thoughts there came this one
+conclusion: when her last money had been spent, when there only remained
+for her the bitter bread of charity, she would pass quietly out of life
+to a world where the outer sight would matter nothing.
+
+Meanwhile, every casual word of Riviere's was weighed and re-weighed,
+tested and assayed by her for the gold that might be hidden within.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+RIVIERE IS CALLED BACK
+
+
+There are two sides to Wiesbaden. The one is with the gay, cosmopolitan
+life that saunters along the Wilhelmstrasse and dallies with the
+allurements of the most enticing shops in Germany; suns itself in the
+gardens of the Kursaal or on the wind-sheltered slopes of the Neroberg;
+listens to an orchestra of master-artists in the open or to a prima
+donna in the brilliance of the opera-house; dines, wines, gambles,
+dissipates, burns the lamp of life under forced draught.
+
+The other side is with the life behind the curtains of the nursing
+homes, where dim flickers of life and health are jealously watched and
+tended. Wiesbaden is both a Bond Street and a Harley Street. Specialists
+in medicine and surgery have their consulting rooms a few doors away
+from those of specialists in jewellery, flowers or confectionery. Their
+names and their specialities are prominent on door-plates almost as
+though they were competing against the lures of the traders.
+
+But Dr Hegelmann had no need to cry his services in the market-place.
+His consulting rooms and nursing home were hidden amongst the evergreens
+of a cool, restful garden well away from the flaunting life of the
+Wilhelmstrasse. By the door his name and titles were inscribed in
+inconspicuous lettering on a small black marble tablet. His specialty
+needed no proclaiming.
+
+Riviere found the great surgeon curiously uncouth in appearance. His
+brown, grey-streaked beard was longer than customary and ragged in
+outline; his eyebrows projected like a sea-captain's; his almost bald
+head seemed to be stretched tight over a framework of knobs and bumps;
+his clothes were baggy and shapeless. But all these unessentials faded
+away from sight when Dr Hegelmann spoke. His voice was wonderfully
+compelling--a voice tuned to a sympathy all-embracing. His voice could
+make even German sound musical. And his hands were the hands of a
+musician.
+
+Before bringing Elaine into the consulting-room, Riviere explained the
+facts of the vitriol outrage, gave into his hands the letter of advice
+from the doctor at Nimes, and then broached the subject of payment. They
+spoke in German, because Dr Hegelmann had steadfastly refused to learn
+any language beyond his own. All his energies of learning had been
+focused on his one specialty.
+
+"I want to explain," said Riviere, "that Frauelein Verney is not
+well-to-do. She is, I believe, practically dependent on her profession."
+
+"Then we shall adjust the scale of payment to whatever she can afford,"
+answered the doctor readily. "I value my rich patients only because they
+can pay me for my poorer patients."
+
+"Many thanks. But that was not quite my meaning. I want to ask you to
+charge her at the lowest rate, and allow me to make up the difference."
+
+"Without letting her know it."
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"That shall be as you wish. I appreciate your motives." His voice was
+full of sympathy, giving a treble value to the most ordinary words.
+"That is the action of a true friend."
+
+Riviere brought Elaine into the consulting-room, and left her in the
+great specialist's gentle hands. An assistant surgeon was there to act
+as interpreter.
+
+The verdict came quickly. For a week Elaine was to be in the surgical
+home receiving preliminary treatment, and then Dr Hegelmann was to
+operate on her right eye. For the left eye there was no hope.
+
+During the week of waiting, Riviere came twice a day to Elaine's
+bedside, to chat and read to her.
+
+One day he told her that he had arranged for the use of a bench at a
+private biological laboratory at Wiesbaden belonging to one of the
+medical specialists.
+
+"That will enable me to begin my research while you're recovering from
+the operation. You'll have no need to think that you might be keeping me
+here away from my work."
+
+"I'm glad. It's very good to have a friend by one, but I should have
+worried at keeping you from your work. Now I'm relieved.... Is the
+laboratory here well equipped?"
+
+"Quite sufficiently for my purposes. Of course I'm sending to Paris for
+my own microscope--it's a Zeiss, with a one-twelfth oil immersion--and
+I'll have my own rocker microtome sent over also. There's a microtome
+in the laboratory here, but I might take weeks to get on terms with it.
+If you'd ever worked with the instrument, you'd know how curiously human
+it is in its moods and whims. If a microtome takes a liking to you,
+she'll work herself to the bone while you merely rest your hand on the
+lever. But if she has some secret objection to you, she'll pout and
+sulk, and jib and rear, and generally try to drive you distracted."
+
+Elaine smiled. "I notice that man always applies the feminine gender to
+anything unreliable in the way of machinery. If it's sober and
+steady-going, you label it masculine, like Big Ben. But if it's
+uncertain in action, like a motor-boat, you call it Fifi or Lolo or
+Vivienne."
+
+"That's a true bill," confessed Riviere. "Henceforth I'll keep to the
+strictly neutral 'it' when I mention a microtome."
+
+"I want to know the nature of your research work. You've never yet told
+me except in vague, general terms."
+
+Riviere hesitated. It seemed to him scarcely a subject to discuss with
+one who herself was in the hands of the surgeon.
+
+"Wouldn't you prefer a more cheerful topic?" he ventured.
+
+Elaine appreciated the reason for his hesitation, and answered: "I want
+to hear of the spirit behind your technicalities. It won't depress me in
+the least. Please go on."
+
+Riviere began to explain to her the big idea which he was hoping to
+develop in the coming years. He avoided any details that might seem to
+have even a remote personal bearing. He spoke with enthusiasm--his
+voice became aglow with inner fire. And it was clear from her attitude
+and from the questions she interjected from time to time that she
+realized the value of his idea, appreciated his motives, and was
+whole-heartedly interested in what he was telling her.
+
+As Elaine listened, a tiny voice within her was whispering: "Here is
+your rival." And she felt glad that her rival was one of high purpose.
+The call of science and a high, impersonal aim, touched her as something
+sacred.
+
+Riviere had brought with him a daily paper--the Frankfort edition of the
+_Europe Chronicle_--in order to read it to her. Thinking that she might
+be getting wearied of his personal affairs, he broke off presently, and
+with her agreement, opened the paper at the news pages, calling out the
+headlines until she intimated a wish to hear a fuller reading.
+
+He had finished the news pages for her, and was about to put the paper
+aside, when the instinct of long habit made him glance at the headlines
+of the financial page.
+
+Elaine heard a sudden decisive rustle of the paper as he folded it
+quickly, and then came a minute of silence which carried to her
+sensitive brain a strange sensation of tenseness.
+
+"What is it?" she asked. "Won't you read it out?"
+
+Riviere's voice had altered completely when he answered her. There was
+now a reserved, constrained note in it. "An item of news which touches
+me personally," he said.
+
+"Am I not to hear it?"
+
+"I would rather you didn't ask me."
+
+There was silence again. Riviere sat stiff with rigid muscles while he
+thought out the bearings of the news item he had just read. Then he
+asked her to excuse him on a matter of immediate urgency.
+
+At the post office he managed after some waiting to get telephonic
+communication with the Frankfort office of the _Europe Chronicle_.
+
+"Tell the financial editor that Mr John Riviere wants to speak to him,"
+he said authoritatively. "Please put me through quickly. I'm on a trunk
+wire."
+
+After a pause the stereotyped reply came that the financial editor was
+out. His assistant was now speaking, and would take any message.
+Clifford Matheson would not have had such an answer made to him, but
+Riviere was an unknown name. He realized that he must now cool his heels
+in anterooms, and communicate with chiefs through the medium of their
+subordinates.
+
+"You have an item in to-day's paper regarding the forthcoming notation
+of Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd. Mr Clifford Matheson's name is mentioned
+as Chairman. I should very much like to know if you have had
+confirmation of that item, and from where it was obtained."
+
+"Hold the line, please. I'll make enquiries."
+
+Presently the answer came. "Why do you wish to know?"
+
+"Mr Matheson is my half-brother, and though I'm in close touch with him,
+I've had no intimation of any such move on his part."
+
+"Hold the line, please."
+
+Another pause ensued, followed by the formal statement. "The news came
+to us last night from our Paris office. We believe it to be correct. Do
+we understand that you wish to deny it?"
+
+"No; I want to get confirmation of it. Thanks--good-bye."
+
+Then he asked the post-office for a trunk call to Paris, and after an
+hour's wait he was put in touch with the headquarters of the _Europe
+Chronicle_. The second 'phone conversation proved as unsatisfactory as
+the first. A financial editor of a responsible journal does not talk
+freely with any unknown man who rings him up on a hasty trunk call. The
+reply came that the information in question reached the paper from a
+perfectly reliable source. If Mr Riviere cared to call at the office,
+they would give him proof of the accuracy of their statement. They could
+not discuss such a matter over the 'phone.
+
+Riviere urged that he was speaking from Wiesbaden.
+
+They were sorry, but they did not care to discuss the matter over the
+'phone. He must either take their word for it that the information was
+correct, or else call in person at the Paris office.
+
+It was clear to Riviere that he must make the journey to Paris if he
+were to unravel the mystery of that astounding statement. The dead
+Clifford Matheson mentioned authoritatively as Chairman of the new
+company! Why should such an impossible story be set afloat, and what was
+the "reliable source" spoken of? He knew that the _Europe Chronicle_
+though a sensational paper, would not print self-invented fiction on its
+financial page.
+
+"I have an urgent call to Paris," he told Elaine. "I hope you will
+excuse my running away so brusquely? I'll be back before the day of your
+operation."
+
+"Of course, I excuse you," she replied readily. "I know that something
+very important is calling you. And in any case, what right would I have
+to say yes or no to a private decision of your own?"
+
+There leapt in her a sudden hope that he would answer from the heart.
+But his reply held nothing beyond a bare statement. "This matter is
+extremely urgent. I propose to catch a night train to Paris and be back
+by to-morrow evening. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"
+
+"I have everything ... but my sight."
+
+"And that, Dr Hegelmann will give you within the month!" he affirmed.
+
+In Paris early the next morning, Riviere sought out the financial editor
+of the _Europe Chronicle_. At a face-to-face interview, Riviere's
+personality impressed, and the newspaper man showed himself quite
+willing to prove the _bona fides_ of his journal.
+
+"If you will step into the adjoining room," he said, "I'll send you the
+reporter who brought us the information. Ask him any questions you like.
+I've perfect confidence in him, and I stand by any statement of his we
+print. I don't think people realize how careful we are on financial
+matters--they seem to think that a popular paper will print any sort of
+_canard_ offhand."
+
+There followed Riviere into the next room a tubby rosy-faced little man,
+brisk and smiling. "Well, sir, what can I do for you?" he rattled off
+cheerfully. "The financial editor tells me that I'm to preach to you the
+gospel of the infallibility of the _Chronicle_. What's the particular
+text you're heaving bricks at?"
+
+Jimmy Martin's infectious good-humour brought an answering smile from
+Riviere. "I'm not casting doubts on the modern-day Bible," he replied.
+"I'm seeking information. I want to know who told you that Clifford
+Matheson, my half-brother, is to head the Board of Hudson Bay Transport,
+Ltd."
+
+"I have it straight from the stable--from Lars Larssen."
+
+Riviere's face did not move a muscle--he was still smiling pleasantly.
+
+"Larssen and I are old pals," continued Martin briskly. "So when he was
+passing through Paris the other day he 'phoned me to the effect of come
+and crack a bottle with me, come and let's reminisce together over the
+good old days. I went; and he gave me the juicy little piece of news you
+saw in yesterday's rag. We saved up some of it for to-day--have you
+seen? Clifford Matheson heads the festal board, and the other revellers
+at the guinea-feast are the Right Hon. Lord St Aubyn, Sir Francis
+Letchmere, Bart., and G. Lowndes Hawley Carleton-Wingate, M.P. Lars
+Larssen sits below the salt--to wit, joins the Board after allotment.
+The capital is to be a cool five million, and if I were a prophet I'd
+tell you whether they'll get it or not."
+
+"Thanks--that's just what I wanted to know."
+
+"You withdraw the bricks?"
+
+"Unreservedly.... By the way, do you know where my brother is at the
+moment?"
+
+"Vague idea he's in Canada. Don't know where I get it from. Those sort
+of things are floating in the air."
+
+"Where is Larssen?"
+
+"He was going on to London--dear old foggy, fried-fishy London! Ever
+notice that London is ringed around with the smell of fried fish and
+naphtha of an evening? The City smells of caretakers; and Piccadilly of
+patchouli; and the West End of petrol; but the smell of fish fried in
+tenth-rate oil in little side-streets rings them around and bottles them
+up. In Paris it's wood-smoke and roast coffee, and I daresay heaps
+healthier, but I sigh me for the downright odours of old England!
+Imitaciong poetry--excuse this display of emotion."
+
+When Riviere left the office of the journal on the Boulevard des
+Italiens, he made his way rapidly to No. 8 Rue Laffitte, second floor.
+There he inquired for Clifford Matheson, and was informed that the
+financier was in Winnipeg.
+
+"You're certain of that?" asked Riviere.
+
+"Quite, sir!" answered the clerk in surprise. "We get cables from him
+giving addresses to send letters to. If you'd like anything forwarded,
+sir, leave it here and we shall attend to it."
+
+It was now clear beyond doubt that Lars Larssen was playing a game of
+unparalleled audacity. He had somehow arranged to impersonate the "dead"
+Clifford Matheson, and was using the impersonation to float the Hudson
+Bay scheme on his own lines.
+
+Riviere flushed with anger at the realization of how Lars Larssen was
+using his name.
+
+But that was a trifle compared with the main issue. When he had fought
+Lars Larssen, it was not a mere petty squabble over a division of loot.
+The Hudson Bay scheme was no mere commercial machine for grinding out a
+ten per cent. profit. If successful, it meant an entire re-organization
+of the wheat traffic between Canada and Great Britain. It meant, in
+kernel, the control of Britain's bread-supply. It affected directly
+fifty millions of his fellow-countrymen.
+
+For that reason Riviere had refused to lend his name to a scheme under
+which Lars Larssen would hold the reins of control. He knew the
+ruthlessness of the man and his overweening lust of power, which had
+passed the bounds of ordinary ambition and had become a Napoleonic
+egomania.
+
+In refusing to act on the Board, Riviere had made an altruistic
+decision. But now the same problem confronted him again in a different
+guise. If he remained silent, the scheme would in all probability be
+floated in his name to a successful issue. If he remained silent, he
+would be betraying fifty millions of his fellow-countrymen.
+
+He had thought to strike out from the whirlpool into peaceful waters,
+but the whirlpool was sucking him back.
+
+Weighing duty against duty, he saw clearly that he must at once confront
+Larssen and crumple up his daring scheme. And so he wired to Elaine:
+
+"An urgent affair calls me to London. Shall return to you at the
+earliest possible moment. Address, Avon Hotel, Lincoln's Inn Fields."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+NOT WANTED!
+
+
+In the train Calaiswards, Riviere felt as though he had just plunged
+into an ice-cold lake fed by torrents from the snow-peaks, and had
+emerged tingling in every fibre with the glow of health.
+
+The course before him was straight; the issue clean-cut. He had only to
+confront Lars Larssen to bring the latter to his knees. If there were
+opposition, the threat of a public prosecution would brush it aside.
+
+He must resume the personality of Clifford Matheson; return to Olive;
+settle a generous income on Elaine. He must wind up his financial
+affairs and devote himself to the scientific research he had planned.
+
+A straight, clean course.
+
+He looked forward eagerly to the moment when he would walk into
+Larssen's private office and smash a fist through his hoped-for control
+of Hudson Bay. Until that moment, he would keep outwardly to the
+identity of John Riviere. But already he was feeling himself back in the
+personality of Clifford Matheson--the hard, firm lines had set again
+around his mouth, the look of masterfulness was in his eye.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Channel was in its sullen mood.
+
+Overhead, skies were grey with ragged, shapeless cloud; below, the
+waters were the colour of slag and slapping angrily against the plates
+of the starboard bow under the drive of a wind from the north-east. The
+ashen cliffs of Dover came to meet the packet reluctant and
+inhospitable. By the harbour-entrance, a petulant squall of rain beat
+upon them as though to shoo them away. The landing-stage was slippery
+and slimy with rain, soot, and petrol drippings from the motor-cars
+shipped to and fro. Customs-house officers eyed them with tired
+suspicion; porters took their money and hastened away with the curtest
+of acknowledgments; an engine panted sullenly as it waited for
+never-ending mail-bags to be hauled up from the bowels of the packets
+and dumped into the mail-van.
+
+England had no welcome for Riviere at her front door.
+
+Through the Weald of Kent, where spring comes early, this April
+afternoon showed the land still naked and cold. On the coppices,
+dispirited catkins drooped their tassels from the wet branches of the
+undergrowth, but the young leaves lurked within their brown coverings as
+though they shivered at the thought of venturing out into the bleak air.
+On the oaks, dead leaves from the past autumn clung obstinately to their
+mother-branches. The hop-lands were a dreary drab; hop-poles huddled
+against one another for warmth; streams ran swollen and muddy and
+rebellious.
+
+"The Garden of England" had no welcome for Riviere.
+
+They swerved through Tonbridge Junction, glistening sootily under a
+drizzle of rain, and dived into the yawning tunnel of River Hill as
+though into refuge from the bleakness of the open country. Two
+fellow-travellers with Riviere were discussing the gloomy outlook of a
+threatened railway strike which rumbled through the daily papers like
+distant thunder. Fragment of talk came to his ears:--
+
+"Minimum wage.... Damned insolence.... Tie up the whole country.... Have
+them all flogged to work.... Not a statesman in the House.... Weak-kneed
+set of vote-snatchers.... If I had my way...."
+
+The train ran them roof-high through endless vistas of the mean grey
+streets of south-east London, where the street-lamps were beginning to
+throw out a yellow haze against the murky drizzle of the late afternoon;
+slowed to a crawl in obedience to the raised arms of imperious signals;
+stopped over viaducts for long wearisome minutes while flaunting
+sky-signs drummed into the passengers the superabundant merits of
+Somebody's Whisky or Somebodyelse's Soap.
+
+Half-an-hour late at the terminus, Riviere had his valise sent to the
+Avon Hotel, hailed a taxi, and told the man to drive as fast as possible
+to Leadenhall Street. In that narrow canon of commerce was a large,
+substantial building bearing the simple sign--a sign ostentatious in its
+simplicity--of "Lars Larssen--Shipping."
+
+"Tell Mr Larssen that Mr John Riviere wishes to see him," he said to a
+clerk at the inquiry desk.
+
+"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr Larssen left the office not ten minutes ago."
+
+"Can you tell me where he went to?"
+
+"If you'll wait a moment, sir, I'll send up an inquiry to his secretary.
+What name did you say?"
+
+"Riviere--John Riviere. The brother of Mr Clifford Matheson."
+
+Presently the answer came down the house 'phone that Mr Larssen had gone
+to his home in Hampstead.
+
+Riviere re-entered the taxi and gave an address on the Heath. He wanted
+to thrash out the matter with Larssen with the least possible delay. He
+would have preferred to confront the shipowner in his office, but since
+that plan had miscarried, he would seek him out in his private house.
+
+Near King's Cross another taxi coming out from a cross-street skidded as
+it swerved around the corner, and jolted into his own with a crash of
+glass and a crumple of mudguards. Delay followed while the two
+chauffeurs upbraided one another with crimson epithets, and gave rival
+versions of the incident to a gravely impartial policeman. When Riviere
+at length reached Hampstead Heath, it was to find that the shipowner had
+just left the house.
+
+Riviere explained to the butler that it was very important he should
+reach Larssen without delay, and his personality impressed the servant
+as that of a visitor of standing. He therefore told Riviere what he
+knew.
+
+"Mr Larssen changed into evening dress, sir, and went off in his small
+covered car. I don't know where he's gone, sir, but he told me if
+anything important arose I was to ring him up at P. O. Richmond, 2882."
+
+That telephone number happened to be quite familiar to Riviere. It was
+the number of his own house at Roehampton.
+
+He jumped into the waiting taxi once again, and ordered the chauffeur to
+drive across London to Barnes Common and Roehampton. If he could not
+confront Larssen at office or house, he would run him to earth that
+evening in his own home. No doubt Larssen was going there to talk
+business with Sir Francis.
+
+Roehampton is a country village held within the octopus arms of Greater
+London. Round it are a number of large houses with fine, spacious
+grounds--country estates they were when Queen Victoria ascended the
+throne of England. At Olive's special choice, her husband had purchased
+one of the mansions and had it re-decorated for her in modern style. She
+liked its nearness to London proper--it gave her touch with Bond Street
+and theatreland in half-an-hour by fast car. She liked its spacious
+lawns and its terraced Italian garden--they were so admirable for garden
+parties and open-air theatricals. She liked the useless size of the
+house--it ministered to her love of opulence.
+
+Riviere had grown to hate it in the last few years.
+
+The name of the estate was "Thornton Chase." The approach lay through a
+winding drive bordered by giant beeches, and passed one of the
+box-hedged lawns to curl before a front door on the further side of the
+house.
+
+When at the very gates another delay in that evening of delays occurred.
+This time it was a tyre-burst. Riviere, impatient of further waste of
+time, paid off the chauffeur and started on foot along the entrance
+drive. The drizzle of the afternoon had ceased, and a few stars shone
+halfheartedly through rents in the ragged curtain of cloud, as though
+performing a duty against their will.
+
+When passing through the box-hedged lawn as a short cut to the front
+door, one of the curtains of the lighted drawing-room was suddenly
+thrown back, and the broad figure of man stood framed in a golden panel
+of light. It was Lars Larssen.
+
+Riviere stopped involuntarily. It was as though his antagonist had
+divined his presence and had come boldly forward to meet him. And,
+indeed, that was not far from the fact. Larssen, waiting alone in the
+drawing-room, had had one of his strange intuitive impulses to throw
+wide the curtain and look out into the night. Such an impulse he never
+opposed. He had learnt by long experience that there were centres of
+perception within him, uncharted by science, which gathered impressions
+too vague to put a name to, and yet vitally real. He always gave rein to
+his intuition and let it lead him where it chose.
+
+Looking out into the night, the shipowner could not see Riviere, who had
+stopped motionless in the shadow of a giant box clipped to the shape of
+a peacock standing on a broad pedestal.
+
+Riviere waited.
+
+Presently Larssen turned abruptly as though someone had entered the
+room. A smile of welcome was on his lips. Olive swept in, close-gowned
+in black with silvery scales. She offered her hand with a radiant smile,
+and Larssen took it masterfully and raised it to his lips. Riviere noted
+that it was not the shipowner who had moved forward to meet Olive, but
+Olive who had come gladly to him.
+
+They stood by the fireplace, and Olive chatted animatedly to her guest.
+Riviere scarcely recognized his wife in this transformation of spirit.
+With him she was cold and abrupt, and captious, eyes half-lidded and
+cheeks white and mask-like. Now her eyes flashed and sparkled, and there
+was warm colour in her cheeks.
+
+Of what Olive and Larssen said to one another, no word came to Riviere.
+But attitude and gesture told him more than words could have done. It
+was as though he were a spectator of a bioscope drama, standing in
+darkness while a scene was being pictured for him in remorseless detail
+behind the lighted window. That Olive's feeling for Larssen had grown
+beyond mere friendship was plain beyond question. She was infatuated
+with the man; and he was playing with her infatuation.
+
+For a moment Riviere's fist clenched; then his fingers loosened, and he
+watched without stirring. Larssen must, in view of his action on the
+Hudson Bay coup, believe Matheson to be dead. To him, Olive was now a
+widow. Therefore Riviere had no quarrel with the shipowner on the ground
+of what he was now witnessing. His desire to crumple Larssen in the
+hollow of his hand and fling him into the mud at his feet was based on
+very different grounds.
+
+On the other hand, Olive must believe Matheson to be alive. Larssen
+would have told her that her husband was away in Canada on business for
+a few weeks, and he would keep up the fiction until the Hudson Bay
+scheme were floated to a public issue.
+
+That Riviere could watch the scene pictured before him without
+stirring--could watch in silence the spectacle of his wife's infatuation
+for another man--might seem superficially as the height of cynical
+cold-bloodedness. Yet nothing could be farther from the truth. Riviere
+was a man of very deep and very strong feelings held habitually under a
+rigid control. Self-control is very often mistaken superficially for
+cold-bloodedness, just as heartiness is mistaken for big-heartedness.
+
+He was balanced enough to hold no blame for Olive. Within two years of
+marriage he had plumbed her to the depths. It was not in her to be more
+than a reckless spender of other people's money and other people's
+lives. She was born to waste just as another is born to create. The way
+in which she was throwing herself at Larssen during his absence for a
+few weeks was typical of her inborn character, which nothing could
+uproot.
+
+It was clear beyond doubt that Olive did not want him back. She
+preferred him out of her way. If he could disappear for ever, leaving
+his fortune in her hands, she would unquestionably be glad of it. What
+he had in fact brought about by taking up the personality of John
+Riviere was what she seemed most to desire.
+
+He was coming home as an intruder. Even in his own house there would be
+no welcome for him. _He was not wanted._
+
+There was a sudden stiffening on the part of Olive, as though she heard
+someone about to enter the room. Sir Francis came in, shook hands
+cordially with Larssen, and all three made their way to dinner.
+
+Riviere was left looking into an empty room. With sudden decision he
+made his way out of the grounds of Thornton Chase. He would see the
+shipowner to-morrow in his office at Leadenhall Street rather than
+thrash out the coming quarrel in front of Olive and Sir Francis.
+
+His duty lay in taking up once more the role of Clifford Matheson and
+returning to Olive's side. Though what he had seen that evening made the
+duty trebly distasteful, he must carry it out to the end. Yet to himself
+he was glad of the short respite. For one night more he would breathe
+freedom as John Riviere.
+
+Only one night more!
+
+For the moment, time was no object to him, and he proceeded on foot
+through Roehampton village and by the sodden coppices of Putney Heath to
+the Portsmouth high road and the railway station of East Putney.
+
+He waited at the station until an underground train snaked its way in
+like a giant blindworm, and went with it to the Temple and so to the
+quiet hotel he had chosen in Lincoln's Inn Fields. On his way, he sent
+off a telegram to the shipowner stating that John Riviere would call at
+Leadenhall Street at eleven o'clock in the morning.
+
+In the coffee-room of the Avon Hotel he sat down to write a long letter
+to Elaine which would explain all that had been hidden from her. Without
+sparing himself one jot he told her of the circumstances of his life
+since the crucial night of March 14th, and of the deception he carried
+out with her as well as with the rest of the world. It was long past
+midnight before he put to the letter the signature of "Clifford
+Matheson."
+
+And then with a stab of pain he remembered that Elaine could not read
+it. There were passages in the letter which must not be read to her by
+any outside person. It was evident that what he had to tell her would
+have to be said by word of mouth.
+
+Riviere tore up his letter into small fragments and burnt them carefully
+in the grate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+A THRONE-ROOM
+
+
+Dinner was over at Thornton Chase, and the three were back in the
+drawing-room--Olive, Larssen, and Sir Francis. The men smoked at Olive's
+request; and she herself lighted one of a special brand of cigarettes
+which she had made for her by Antonides.
+
+"I hate to have my drawing-room smelling of afternoon-tea and feminine
+chit-chat," she explained. "The two Carleton-Wingate frumps called on me
+this afternoon for a couple of solid hours' boring, which they dignify
+to themselves as a duty call. Please smoke away the remembrance of
+them."
+
+"The Carleton-Wingates are a useful crowd," said Larssen. "There's an
+M.P., a major-general and a minister plenipotentiary amongst them."
+
+"Give me those to deal with, and you entertain the twin frumps,"
+answered Olive. "Twins are always hateful in a room, because they sit
+together and chorus their comments together, just as if they were one
+mind with two bodies. You feel as if you ought to split yourself in two
+and devote half to each, so as not to cause jealousy. But twin old maids
+are especially hateful."
+
+"A very old family," was Letchmere's comment. "They go back to Henry
+VII."
+
+"What's the entertainment for to-night?" asked Olive of Larssen.
+
+"I propose to take you to the new Cabaret," said he.
+
+"First-rate!"
+
+"But it doesn't start until ten-thirty. We've plenty of time. First, I
+want you to play to me."
+
+Olive went over to the piano, and Larssen followed to light the candles
+and turn back the case of polished rosewood inlaid with ivory.
+
+She laid her fingers on the keys and looked up at him expectantly.
+
+"Something lively," he ordered, and she rattled into the latest success
+of the musical comedy stage. Such as it was, she played it brilliantly.
+To-night she was in that morphia mood of the terrace of Monte Carlo when
+she had first told him of her contempt for her husband.
+
+Under cover of the playing, while Sir Francis was reading a novel of
+turf life, Olive whispered: "Can't we have a few moments together by
+ourselves?"
+
+"I'll arrange it," answered Larssen.
+
+"How?"
+
+"Suppose we drop your father at the Cabaret while we go on to see my
+offices?"
+
+"Offices--at night-time!" she exclaimed.
+
+"My staff work all night there--I have a night-shift as well as a
+day-shift. In fact, the offices are busier at night-time than in the
+day-time."
+
+"Isn't that a very unusual arrangement?"
+
+"Yes. It enables me to deal with routine-work while the other fellow's
+asleep. That's always been one of my business principles: get
+to-morrow's work done to-day; get a twelve hours' start of the other
+man."
+
+"How typical of you!"
+
+"My place is thoroughly worth seeing. Suppose I show you over it?"
+
+Larssen's pride in his office was fully justified. There was nothing in
+London, nothing in England to match it as a perfect business machine.
+And there was no private office in Europe which could compare in
+impressiveness with Larssen's own.
+
+Things went as he arranged, and from the busy hive of industry on the
+ground and first floors he took Olive to his private room on the second.
+It was a room some thirty yards long and broad in proportion, with a
+central dome reaching above the roof. A few broad tables were almost
+lost in its immensity. Round the walls were maps dotted with flag-pins
+telling of the position of ships. At the further end was Larssen's own
+work-table--a horseshoe-shaped desk. Above and behind it hung a portrait
+of his little boy by Sargent.
+
+"It's almost a throne-room!" was Olive's exclamation of wonder.
+
+Larssen smiled his pleasure. It _was_ a throne-room. He had designed it
+as such. His private house at Hampstead mattered little to him. His
+house on Riverside Drive, New York, and his great forest estate in the
+Adirondacks mattered almost as little. His real home was at the office.
+
+"In my New York office, and in every one of my other offices round the
+world, there's a room like this. I alone use it. When I'm away, it
+stands for me. It's my sign."
+
+"Above there," he continued, pointing to the central dome, "is the
+wireless apparatus which keeps me in touch with my ships. From ship to
+ship and office to office I can send my orders round the world. I'm
+independent of the wires and the cables."
+
+"That's epic!" she said, using the word she had used before when he
+spoke to her of his early career. No other word fitted Lars Larssen so
+closely.
+
+"Heard from Clifford lately?" he queried.
+
+"Only a brief cable from Winnipeg."
+
+"I had a letter telling me things are going well, but not as quickly as
+he expected. That letter would be a week old by now. Every moment I'm
+expecting to hear that his work is put through and sealed up tight."
+
+"I'm not anxious to have him back. If you only could realize how he
+bores me to extinction."
+
+She waited for an expression of sympathy.
+
+"You've borne with it very bravely," he said, knowing that to a woman
+like Olive no compliment is dearer than to be called "brave."
+
+"Not that I want to say a word against Clifford," he added quickly.
+"He's a very clever man of business, and I admire him for it. But a
+woman wants more than cleverness."
+
+"How well you understand!" said Olive. "So few know me as I really am.
+If only we had met before----"
+
+She stopped abruptly as a door opened at the farther end of the room.
+Morris Sylvester entered briskly with a telegram in his hand. As
+confidential secretary, it was his duty to open all telegrams and most
+of the letters addressed to his chief. Sylvester passed the open
+telegram to Larssen, saying:
+
+"Excuse my interruption. This telegram just arrived seems important. I
+thought you would like to see it."
+
+"Thanks." Larssen glanced over it. "No answer necessary."
+
+Sylvester withdrew.
+
+"It's a wire from your gay brother-in-law," said Larssen to Olive.
+
+"From John Riviere! Where is he?"
+
+"In London. He proposes to call on me to-morrow morning at eleven."
+
+"I wonder what he has to say."
+
+"I'm completely in the dark."
+
+"I'd like to meet him."
+
+"Shall I send him on to Roehampton after he's seen me?"
+
+Olive reflected that Riviere might not want to see her, in view of the
+way he had avoided her so far. She answered: "Ring me up on the 'phone
+when he's in your office. I'll speak to him over the wire."
+
+"Right--I'll remember.... By the way, about the Hudson Bay company, did
+I tell you that the underwriting negotiations are going through fine?
+Inside a week we ought to be ready for flotation."
+
+Larssen proceeded to enlarge on the subject, and the broken thread of
+Olive's avowal was not taken up again. They left the offices, and drove
+back to the Cabaret to rejoin Sir Francis.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+BEATEN TO EARTH
+
+
+At eleven o'clock the next morning, the shipowner was at the horseshoe
+desk in his throne-room, fingering the snapshot of Riviere which
+Sylvester had secured at Nimes. He had seen in it the picture of a man
+very like Clifford Matheson, but not for a moment had he thought of it
+as the portrait of the financier himself. The shaven lip, the scar
+across the forehead, the differences of hair and collar and tie and
+dress had combined to make a thorough disguise.
+
+Yet when the visitor entered by the farther door of the throne-room and
+came striding resolutely down the thirty yards of carpet, Lars Larssen
+knew him. The carriage and walk were Matheson's.
+
+For a moment hot rage possessed him. Not at Matheson, but at himself. He
+ought to have guessed before. This was the one possibility he had
+completely overlooked. Matheson had tricked him by shamming death. He
+ought not to have let himself be tricked. That was inexcusable.
+
+A moment later he had regained mastery of himself, and a succession of
+plans flashed past his mental vision, to be considered with lightning
+speed. The financier held the whip-hand--and the whip must be torn from
+him ... somehow.
+
+"Sit down, Matheson," said the shipowner calmly, when his antagonist had
+reached the horseshoe desk.
+
+Neither man offered to shake hands.
+
+Matheson took the seat indicated, and waited for Larssen to begin.
+
+Larssen knew the value of silence, however, and Matheson was forced to
+open.
+
+"You thought me dead?" he asked.
+
+"I knew you had disappeared for private reasons of your own. I
+discovered those reasons, and so I respected your privacy," was the calm
+reply.
+
+"You had the cool intention of using my name in the Hudson Bay
+prospectus as though I had given you sanction for it."
+
+"You did give me sanction."
+
+"Written?"
+
+"No; your word."
+
+"When?"
+
+"At our last interview at your Paris office. You passed your word--an
+Englishman's word--and I took it."
+
+Matheson ignored the cool lie. "Let's get down to business," he said.
+
+"With pleasure. What do you want?"
+
+"When we last met," continued Matheson slowly, "I wanted you to assign
+half of your four million Deferred Shares to Lord ----, to be held in
+trust for the general body of shareholders. Well, now--_now_--I want the
+whole four million assigned."
+
+"And you propose that I should give them up for nothing?" queried
+Larssen ironically.
+
+"For L200,000 in ordinary shares. The monetary value is the same. The
+difference would be that you'll have two hundred thousand with your own
+money, not the British public's."
+
+There was silence while the two men eyed one another relentlessly. At
+the side of Larssen's forehead, under the temple, a tiny vein throbbed
+and jerked. That was the only outward sign of the feelings of murder
+which lay in his heart.
+
+"You have your nerve!" he commented.
+
+"I'm offering you easy terms."
+
+"Offer _me_ terms!"
+
+"Easy terms," repeated Matheson. "I could, if I chose, step from here to
+my lawyers' and have you indicted for conspiracy. I could get you seven
+to ten years. I could have you breaking stones at Portland."
+
+"Then why don't you?"
+
+"I have my private reasons."
+
+"One of them being that you haven't a shred of evidence," was the cool
+reply.
+
+"Who sends cables in my name to my managers?" demanded Matheson.
+
+"I know nothing of that."
+
+"You _do_ know it. One of your employees sends them."
+
+"Have you such a cable with you?"
+
+Matheson ignored the retort. "You've told my wife and my father-in-law
+that I was alive."
+
+"I knew you _were_ alive. Is that your idea of fraud?"
+
+"I'm not going to quibble over words. Believing me to be dead, you had
+me impersonated, planning to use my name on the Hudson Bay scheme."
+
+"I've not used your name."
+
+"You used it to induce St Aubyn and Carleton-Wingate to come on the
+Board."
+
+"If you're thinking to prove that, you merely waste your time. The
+negotiations were carried out by your father-in-law."
+
+"You used my name to a reporter on the _Europe Chronicle_."
+
+"Have you written evidence of that?"
+
+"Martin will swear to it, if necessary."
+
+Larssen laughed harshly. "An out-of-elbows reporter on a sensational
+yellow journal! Do you dream for one instant that his word would stand
+against mine in a court of law? See here, Matheson, you'd better go back
+and read over your brief with the man who's instructing you. He's
+muddled up the facts."
+
+"Then what are the facts?" challenged Matheson.
+
+Lars Larssen took a deep breath before he leaned forward across the
+horseshoe desk to answer. At the same time he moved a hidden lever under
+the desk. This was a device allowing any conversation of his to be heard
+telephonically in the adjoining room where his private secretary worked.
+It was useful occasionally when he needed an unseen listener to a
+business interview of his; and now he particularly wanted Sylvester to
+hear what he and Matheson were saying to one another. It would give
+Sylvester his cue if he were to be called in at any point.
+
+"Matheson," said the shipowner, "the facts of your case don't make a
+very edifying story. If you're sure you want to hear them as you'd hear
+them in a court of law, I'll spare another five minutes to tell you.
+You're quite certain you'd like to hear the outside view of your actions
+this past three weeks?"
+
+"I'm listening."
+
+With brutal directness Larssen proceeded: "On the night of March 14th,
+you decided you were tired of your wife. Thought you'd like a change of
+bedfellow. You left your coat and stick about a quarter-mile down the
+left bank of the Seine from Neuilly bridge, so that people would think
+you dead. You cut a knife-slit in the ribs of your coat to make a neater
+story of it. Then, as I guessed you would, you went honeymooning with
+the other woman. Away to the sunny South. I had you followed.
+
+"You registered together at the Hotel du Forum at Arles, taking the
+names of John Riviere and Elaine Verney. A man doesn't change his name
+unless he's got some shady reason for it. Every court of law knows that.
+You dallied for a day or two at Arles, getting this woman to write a
+lying letter to your wife saying that you were down with fever. We have
+that letter."
+
+"We!"
+
+"Yes, _we_. We have that letter. I advised your wife to let me keep it
+for possible emergencies. I have it in this office along with the other
+evidence. I don't bluff--shall I ring and have my secretary show it to
+you?"
+
+"Get on."
+
+"Then you moved to Nimes, staying for shame's sake at different houses.
+Hers was the Hotel de Provence, and yours was the Villa Clementine. You
+went lovemaking with this woman in the moonlight, up to a quiet place on
+the hillside, and there you nearly got what was coming to you from a
+peasant called Crau. Then you had this Verney woman stay with you in
+your Villa Clementine, and finally you took her off to Wiesbaden."
+
+Larssen ostentatiously pressed an electric bell.
+
+"I'll give you chapter and verse," he said.
+
+Morris Sylvester came in quietly from his room close by, a slow smile
+under his heavy dark moustache, and nodded greeting to Matheson. He had
+heard by the telephone device all of his chief's case against Matheson,
+and was quite ready to take up his cue.
+
+"Sylvester, you recognize this man?" said Larssen.
+
+"Yes. He is the Mr John Riviere I shadowed at Arles and Nimes."
+
+Larssen turned to the financier. "Want to ask him any questions? Ask
+anything you like."
+
+"No."
+
+"Sure?"
+
+"Quite," answered Matheson. There was nothing to be gained at this stage
+by cross-examining the secretary.
+
+"That will do, Sylvester."
+
+The secretary left the room.
+
+Larssen leant forward across the desk once more and snarled: "There's
+the facts of the case as they'll go before the divorce court."
+
+"Do you know that Miss Verney is blind?" There was a hoarseness in
+Matheson's voice; he cleared his throat to relieve it.
+
+"That's no defence in a divorce court."
+
+"Blind and undergoing an operation this very morning? Do you know that
+it's doubtful if she will ever recover any of her sight?"
+
+Larssen's mouth tightened a shade more. At last he found the heel of
+Achilles. He could get at Matheson through Elaine. Ruthlessly he
+answered: "That's no concern of mine. I'm stating facts to you. These
+facts are not all in your wife's possession. Do you want me to put them
+there?"
+
+"Your facts are a chain of lies. There's one sound link: that I changed
+my name. The rest are poisonous lies--provable lies."
+
+"Whatever they may be, do you want them put before your wife?" He
+reached for a swinging telephone by his desk and called to the house
+operator: "Get me P. O. Richmond, 2822. Name, Mrs Matheson."
+
+While he was waiting for the connection to be made, Sylvester entered
+the room and silently showed a visiting-card to his chief. It was
+Olive's card. Acting on a sudden impulse, she had motored to the office
+to see this mysterious John Riviere before he should evade her. She knew
+that the interview was to be at eleven o'clock, and by thus calling in
+person, she would make certain of meeting him.
+
+Larssen said aloud to his secretary: "Show her up when I ring next."
+
+Then to Matheson: "There's no need to 'phone. Your wife is waiting
+below."
+
+Sylvester left the room.
+
+As the shipowner's hand hovered over the button of the electric bell,
+waiting for a yes or no from his antagonist, a great temptation lay
+before Matheson.
+
+The recital of the events of the past three weeks, as given in the
+brutal wording of the shipowner, had torn at his nerves like the pincers
+of an inquisitor. He saw now how the world would judge the relations
+between Elaine and himself. The change of name, the meeting at the same
+hotel at Arles, the second meeting, the companionship of that fateful
+week at Nimes--the world would put only one interpretation on it all.
+Elaine, lying helpless in her close-curtained room at the nursing home
+in Wiesbaden, would be fouled with the imaginings of the prurient. Not
+only had he brought blindness to her, but now he was to bring her to the
+pillory with the scarlet letter fixed upon her.
+
+Yet he could avoid it if he chose. A choice lay open to him. Larssen
+would be ready to exchange silence for silence. If Matheson would stand
+aside and let the Hudson Bay scheme go through, no doubt Larssen would
+play fair in the matter of Elaine. That in effect was what he offered as
+his hand hovered over the electric bell.
+
+The shipowner, though an easy smile of triumph masked his feelings as he
+lay back in his chair, knew that he was at the critical point of his
+career. If Matheson decided to let Olive be shown in, then Olive would
+have in her hands the judgment between the two men. To be dependent on a
+woman's mood, a woman's whim, would be Larssen's position. It galled him
+to the quick. The seconds that slipped by while Matheson considered
+were minute-long to him.
+
+If only Matheson would weaken and propose compromise!
+
+Larssen uttered no word of persuasion one way or another. He knew that,
+if his desire could be attained, it would be attained through silence.
+
+Presently Matheson stirred in his chair.
+
+"Ring!" said he firmly.
+
+The fight had begun again.
+
+Larssen pressed the bell without a moment's hesitation. His bluff had to
+be carried through with absolute decisiveness. He could not gauge how
+far his threat of the divorce court had intimidated Matheson. Beyond
+that, he was not at all sure that Olive would side with him in the
+matter. She was unstable, unreliable.
+
+But on the outside no trace of his doubts appeared. He was perfectly
+cool, entirely master of himself. As he waited for Sylvester to fetch
+Mrs Matheson, he took out a pocket-knife and began to trim his nails
+lightly.
+
+Olive's appearance as she entered the throne-room was greatly changed
+from that of the evening before. The transient effect of the drug had
+worn off. Her features were now heavy and listless, and there were dark
+shadows under the eyes.
+
+Both men rose to offer a seat.
+
+"I came along to catch Mr Riviere before he left you," she explained to
+Larssen, and turned with a set smile towards the visitor.
+
+For a moment or two she stared at Matheson in amazement. Then:
+
+"Why, it's Clifford! What have you been doing to yourself? Why have you
+changed your appearance? Why are you here? What's the meaning of all
+this?"
+
+"It's a long story," cut in Larssen, and "there are two versions to it.
+Which will you hear first, your husband's or mine?"
+
+She hesitated to answer, her mind buzzing with surprise, resentment, and
+anger. She hated to be caught at a disadvantage, as in this case. She
+was uncertain as to what her attitude ought to be.
+
+Had Clifford, suspecting her feelings towards Larssen, returned
+hurriedly in order to trap her? What did he know? What did he guess?
+
+Evidently she ought to be on her guard.
+
+"Of course I will hear my husband first," she answered coldly, and
+Larssen took it as an ill omen. He offered her a chair again, and seated
+himself so as to command them both.
+
+Matheson, who remained standing, waved his hand towards the shipowner.
+"Let him speak first."
+
+"I'm not anxious to," countered Larssen. "Fire away with your own
+version."
+
+"I hate all this mystery!" snapped Olive irritably. "Mr Larssen, you
+tell me what it all means."
+
+"Very well. _This_ is Mr John Riviere."
+
+"Riviere?"
+
+"Yes; that's your husband's _nom de discretion_."
+
+"I thought it was Dean."
+
+"No--Riviere."
+
+"Why is he back from Canada so soon?"
+
+"He never went to Canada."
+
+"You don't mean to say that the letter I received from Arles was written
+by Clifford himself?"
+
+"At his dictation."
+
+"Who wrote it?"
+
+Larssen turned to Matheson. "Do you wish me to explain who wrote it, or
+will you do it yourself?"
+
+"It was written at my dictation by a Miss Verney--a lady whom I met for
+the first time on my visit to Arles. Her relation to myself is that of a
+mere tourist acquaintanceship."
+
+"Why were you at Arles? Why was she at Arles?"
+
+"Miss Verney is--was--a professional scene-painter. She was making a
+brief tour in Provence to collect material for a Roman drama for which
+she was commissioned to design the scenery."
+
+"How old is she?"
+
+"I don't know--what does it matter?"
+
+"I want to know."
+
+"About twenty-five, I should say."
+
+"And what were you doing at Arles?"
+
+Matheson found it very difficult to frame his reasons under this
+remorseless cross-examination. He felt as though he were in the
+witness-box at a divorce trial, replying to hostile counsel.
+
+"When I left Paris," he answered, "it was to take a quiet holiday for a
+couple of months before settling down to my new work."
+
+"What new work?"
+
+"I'll explain in detail later. Scientific research, in brief."
+
+Larssen scraped his chair scornfully. He would not comment with words at
+the present juncture. Matheson was convicting himself out of his own
+mouth--the revelation was unfolding excellently.
+
+"You went to Arles for research?" pursued Olive.
+
+"No; for a holiday."
+
+"A holiday from what--from whom?"
+
+"From financial matters."
+
+"Why did you take the name of John Riviere?"
+
+"Because I intended to take that name permanently."
+
+Olive was startled. "You meant to leave me!" she exclaimed.
+
+"I meant to disappear and give you your freedom and the greater part of
+my property," answered Matheson steadily.
+
+"How freedom?"
+
+"On the night of March 14th, the night I said good-bye to you at the
+Gare de Lyon, I made a sudden decision to take up my brother's work and
+live his life. He has been dead a couple of years. I happened to be
+attacked by a couple of _apaches_, and that gave me the opportunity. I
+contrived evidence of a violent death, and then cut loose entirely from
+the name of Clifford Matheson. You would be given leave by the courts to
+presume death, on the evidence of my coat and stick left by the
+river-bank at Neuilly. You would come into my money and property, and
+you would be free to marry again if you chose."
+
+Olive had become very thoughtful. Her chin was buried in her hand. When
+she spoke again after a few moments' pause, it was in a strangely
+altered tone.
+
+"Why did you come back?" she said.
+
+"Because Larssen was using my name in a way I won't countenance. I was
+forced to return in order to put a stop to it."
+
+"Was that the only reason that made you return?"
+
+"Yes, that was it."
+
+"You came back because Mr Larssen called you back?"
+
+"Because I found that he was having me impersonated, and using my name
+illicitly."
+
+Olive turned on the shipowner with a sudden wild fury, her eyes shooting
+fire and her lips quivering. "Why did you have Clifford impersonated?"
+she hissed out.
+
+Larssen was taken aback at this utterly unexpected onslaught. "That's
+_his_ version!" he retorted.
+
+"My husband says so--that's sufficient for me!"
+
+"Then I can't argue."
+
+"Do you deny it?"
+
+"Emphatically!"
+
+"You told me Clifford was in Canada, when all the time you knew he was
+at Arles. Didn't you tell me that?"
+
+"To save his face."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Obviously because I knew he was dallying at Arles and Nimes with this
+Verney woman. You haven't heard one-tenth of the facts yet. You haven't
+heard that he stayed in the same hotel with her at Arles. Went with her
+to Nimes when the hotel people began to object. At Nimes, for decency's
+sake, they stayed at different houses, but he had her hanging around his
+villa. Went lovemaking with her in the moonlight up to a quiet place on
+the hillside. Then, had her live with him in the Villa Clementine.
+Finally, took her to Wiesbaden. These are all facts for which I can
+bring you irrefutable evidence. I had my secretary shadowing him from
+the moment he left Paris."
+
+Olive turned on her husband with another lightning change of mood.
+
+"Is she so very beautiful, this enchantress of yours?" she queried with
+the velvety softness of a cat.
+
+"She is blind," answered Matheson with a quiver in his words. "Blinded
+for life while trying to warn me of a vitriol attack. Olive, I want you
+to listen without interruption while I tell you on my word of honour
+what are the facts underneath that vile story of Larssen's. I want you
+to believe and have pity.
+
+"We had never seen one another before Arles. There we met as casual
+tourists. It happened that I was able to defend her from the assault of
+a half-drunken peasant. After that we parted as the merest
+acquaintances. By pure chance we met again at Nimes. She came to Nimes
+to gather further material for her scene-painting. For scene purposes
+she had to make a sketch at night-time, and I went with her as escort as
+I would have done with any other woman. We were followed by the peasant
+Crau. He was about to throw vitriol on me when Miss Verney intervened.
+She received the acid full in her eyes. She is, I believe, blinded for
+life. Even now, as I speak, she lies on the operating table.... Olive,
+there has been nothing between us!"
+
+His voice rang out in passionate sincerity.
+
+"I don't believe it," she replied icily.
+
+"You _must_ believe it! I give you my word of honour!"
+
+"I don't believe it! It's against human nature. You're in love with
+her--that's plain. You had opportunity enough. I know sufficient of
+human nature to put two and two together. I shall certainly sue for a
+divorce!"
+
+"Against a blind girl?"
+
+"I don't care a straw whether she's blinded or not!"
+
+And then, for the first time in all that long interview, Matheson blazed
+into open anger.
+
+"You know human nature?" he cried. "By God, you know your own, and you
+measure every other woman by yourself! Behind my back you throw yourself
+at this damned scoundrel!" He flung out his hand toward Larssen.
+
+There was no answering anger in Larssen. He knew too well the value of
+keeping cool. He merely put in a word to egg Matheson on to a further
+outburst.
+
+"That's a chivalrous accusation to make," said he.
+
+"It's true as everything else I've said! Last night, at Thornton Chase,
+in the drawing-room before dinner, I saw through, the uncurtained
+window...."
+
+Too late he pulled himself up short. The irrevocable word had been said.
+
+Olive was now implacable. Her voice was steely as she answered:
+
+"I wish to Heaven you were dead!"
+
+Larssen saw his supreme moment. "Why not?" he suggested.
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"Let him disappear. Let him become John Riviere for good and all."
+
+"But my divorce?"
+
+"Give it up--on conditions. You'll have your freedom just the same."
+
+"What conditions?"
+
+"Ask your husband to sign approval of my Hudson Bay prospectus as it
+stands."
+
+"Doesn't he approve it?"
+
+"No," answered Matheson. "That's why I came back."
+
+"What's wrong with it?"
+
+"It gives Larssen control. It's greatly unfair to the public."
+
+"And just for that you came back? What a reason!" Scorn lashed from her.
+"Yes, Mr Larssen is right! I owe it to my self-respect to be
+magnanimous. You can return to your mistress--I'll forego my divorce.
+Sign the papers he wants you to, and you can live out your life as John
+Riviere. Your money, of course, comes to me."
+
+The shipowner, grimly triumphant, said nothing. Matheson, in his blaze
+of anger, had turned Olive definitely and finally against himself. There
+was no call for Larssen to add to the command of her words.
+
+Matheson's anger was spent. A great tiredness crept over his will. He
+could fight no more. Larssen and Olive had beaten him down--beaten him
+down through his anxiety to shield Elaine. Why should he sacrifice her
+for the sake of an altruistic ideal? The public he had striven to
+protect would not thank him for intervening in their interests. He would
+be merely a quixotic fool.
+
+He felt will-tired, soul-tired, more tired even than on the night of
+March 14th. He could fight no more.
+
+He sank down into a chair, and presently he said dully: "Show me the
+prospectus."
+
+Larssen unhurriedly produced from a drawer in his desk a private draft
+prospectus such as is offered to the underwriters. On it was a list of
+names--the firms to whom it was being shown confidentially before public
+issue.
+
+He reached for the electric bell to summon Sylvester as a witness to
+Matheson's signature, but at that very moment the secretary knocked and
+entered quickly with an open cablegram, which he passed to his chief.
+
+Larssen's face grew white as he read it, but he said nothing beyond:
+"Wait to witness a signature."
+
+Matheson took the prospectus and read it through mechanically. The
+shipowner, with an appearance of casualness, turned to a map on the wall
+behind him and studied the position of his Atlantic liners as indicated
+by the flag-pins.
+
+Olive remained seated, her eyes fixed remorselessly on her husband.
+
+Presently Matheson reached for a pen. "What do you want on it?" he
+asked.
+
+"Simply 'O.K., Clifford Matheson,'" answered the shipowner without
+turning round. "No date."
+
+Matheson wrote across the printed document the formal letters "O.K.,"
+and signed below.
+
+Sylvester witnessed the signature, and passed the document to his
+chief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE BOLTED DOOR
+
+
+The moment he had that vital document safe in his breast-pocket, Lars
+Larssen was a changed man. His mask of cool indifference and his
+assumption of perfect leisure were thrown aside. His face was drawn with
+lines of anxiety as he snapped a rapid stream of orders at Sylvester:
+
+"Send a wireless to the 'Aurelia' to put back at once to Plymouth.
+'Phone Paddington to have a special ready for me in half-an-hour. 'Phone
+my house to pack me a portmanteau and send it to Paddington by fast car
+to catch the special. Get my office car round at once. Tell Bates and
+Carew and Grasemann I'd like them to travel with me to Plymouth to talk
+business. Let me know when all that's moving. Hurry!"
+
+Sylvester sped away to execute his orders.
+
+Larssen looked up at the portrait of his little boy, and the cablegram
+fluttered to the ground.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Olive.
+
+"Pneumonia. Dangerously ill."
+
+"Poor little chap!"
+
+"My only child!"
+
+"He'll get over it, I'm sure."
+
+"He's never been strong and hardy."
+
+"Still, with the best doctors...."
+
+"If money can pull him through, I'll pour it out like water. I'm off to
+the States to look after those fool doctors. The 'Aurelia' is one of my
+fastest boats, and she'll take me across in five days. I'll give treble
+pay to every engineer and stoker."
+
+"How long will you be away?"
+
+"Can't say exactly."
+
+"How unfortunate, just at this time!"
+
+"I can finish off the Hudson Bay deal by wireless. My ordinary business
+on this side will run on in the hands of Bates, Carew, and Grasemann,
+who form my executive committee for London."
+
+They had both ignored Matheson through this conversation. He was
+squeezed dry and done with. Larssen had no further use for him at
+present, and Olive had no sympathy to waste on a beaten man.
+
+He had been sitting brokenly in a chair at the desk where he had signed
+away his independence, gazing into a new-spilt ink-blot on the polished
+surface of the desk, seeing visions in its glistening, blue-black pool.
+
+But now he pushed back his chair with a rasping noise and rose
+decisively to face Larssen.
+
+"We'll call it a month's truce!" he flung out.
+
+"What d'you mean?"
+
+"For a month from now neither you nor I will move further in the Hudson
+Bay scheme. For a month it'll be hung up."
+
+"Who's to hang it up?"
+
+"I."
+
+"But I've got your signed approval in my pocket. Signed and witnessed!"
+
+"The issue is not yet underwritten." It was a sheer guess, but in
+Larssen's face Matheson could read that his guess was correct.
+
+"Well?" snapped Larssen.
+
+"Either you or I will tell the underwriters that the scheme goes no
+further until a month from date--until May 3rd. Which is it to be--you
+or I?"
+
+Sylvester came in rapidly. "All your orders are being carried out, and
+the car's on the way here from the garage."
+
+For a few tense moments Larssen hesitated. The underwriting of the
+five-million issue was an absolute essential to a successful flotation,
+and the negotiations were not yet completed. If Matheson were to
+interfere in them during his absence from London, big difficulties might
+develop. Before that cablegram arrived, the shipowner could have beaten
+down any such threat on Matheson's part, but now, with his little son
+calling for his presence, with the special train at Paddington coupling
+up to speed him to Plymouth, with the "Aurelia" turning back, against
+the protest of its thousand passengers, to take him on board, the
+situation was radically changed.
+
+Matheson had realised the altered situation, and putting aside any
+over-fine scruples, had gripped advantage from it.
+
+Larssen's eyes blazed anger at the financier. Then he held out his hand
+to Olive.
+
+"Good-bye!" he said.
+
+"Good-bye!" she answered, taking his hand.
+
+"You or I?" repeated Matheson.
+
+The shipowner turned at the door through which he was hurrying out.
+
+"I," he conceded.
+
+"Then sign on it."
+
+"Don't sign!" cried Olive.
+
+"He _must_ sign!"
+
+Larssen rushed back to his desk and scribbled on a sheet of paper:
+"Until May 3rd, I fix up nothing with the underwriters."
+
+He scrawled his signature under it, and without further word hurried
+from the throne-room.
+
+Matheson and his wife were left alone.
+
+When Larssen had closed the door behind him, Olive felt as if a big
+strong arm of support had suddenly been taken away from her. Larssen's
+mere presence, even if he remained silent, gave her a fictitious sense
+of her own power, which now was crumbling away and leaving her with a
+feeling of insecurity and self-distrust.
+
+Openly it expressed itself in peevish annoyance.
+
+"Why couldn't you have stayed away altogether?" she muttered fretfully.
+"Nobody wanted you back. Your scruples, indeed! I must say you have a
+pretty mixed set of them. If you had had any consideration for me, you'd
+have stayed away altogether, instead of coming back and making scenes of
+this kind. I hate scenes! And why did you force that month's wait at the
+last moment? Now things are complicated worse than ever!"
+
+Matheson waited patiently for his wife to finish the recital of her
+complaints. He wondered if it were possible to appeal once more to her
+better feelings. At all events he would make the attempt. The signature
+he had forced out of Larssen had given him back some of his
+self-respect, and he felt his brain as it were cleared for action once
+more.
+
+When Olive had finished, Matheson asked her quietly: "Why did you marry
+me?"
+
+"Why did you marry _me_?" she retorted.
+
+"Because I honestly believed at the time that I loved you."
+
+"I suppose you found out afterwards that you'd made a mistake, and then
+blamed it on to me?"
+
+"I'm not blaming you--I'm trying to get the right perspective on to our
+marriage. I'm wondering if the woman I loved was yourself, or merely my
+idealization of you."
+
+"I can't help it if I'm not the incarnation of all the virtues you
+imagined me to be!" Olive sat down and played nervously with a
+penholder, jabbing meaningless lines and dots on to a loose sheet of
+paper.
+
+"When I married you, I thought you were in sympathy with me over the big
+things of life--the things that matter. But you turned them aside with a
+laugh. That put a barrier between us."
+
+"I never could stand prigs. I thought I was marrying a man of the
+world."
+
+"We seemed to be radically opposed in ideas. We drifted farther and
+farther away from one another. At the end of five years, our marriage
+was empty even of tepid affection. If there had been children,
+perhaps...."
+
+"No doubt you'd have wanted to wheel them out in the perambulator!"
+
+Matheson let the flippancy pass. He continued steadily: "I felt I could
+not do my big work under the constant friction of our married life, and
+my life in the financial world. I felt you longed for complete liberty."
+
+"I did, and I do so still."
+
+"So, when opportunity came to me on the night of March 14th, I made the
+sudden decision you know of. I thought I had cut myself loose. If it had
+not been for that one unthought-of thread--Larssen's scheme to use me
+dead or alive--I should never have come back.... My sudden decision was
+wrong. I realise now that no man can cut himself utterly loose from the
+life he has woven for himself. He is part of the pattern of the great
+web of humanity. He is joined to the world around him by a thousand
+threads. If he tries to cut loose, there will always be some one
+unnoticed thread linking him to the old life."
+
+"That sort of thing may be interesting to people who're interested in
+it. It merely bores me."
+
+"Olive, I want to say this: I'm ready to try once more. I'm ready to
+take up our married life as we started it on our wedding day. I'll try
+to forget the past and start afresh. I'll make allowances for you--will
+_you_ make allowances for me?"
+
+Olive laughed mirthlessly. "In plain words, that means you want me to be
+somebody I've never pretended to be and never want to be. The idea is
+fatuous."
+
+"Won't you believe me when I say that I'm genuinely anxious to do the
+right thing by you, and clear up the tangle I've made of your life and
+mine? I'm sorry for what I said in Larssen's presence a little while
+ago. I was angry and carried beyond myself."
+
+"No apology can wipe out that sort of thing."
+
+"I'll do my best to make amends.... You're not looking at all well.
+There's a big change in you. Monte Carlo does you no good--the reverse
+in fact. Why not see a doctor and get him to prescribe you a tonic and a
+quiet place to build up your health in? We'll go there together and
+start our married life afresh."
+
+"You've had your say--now let me have mine!" flung out Olive. "When we
+married, I was mistaken too. I thought at the time you were a man who
+could do things. I judged on your previous career. After we were
+married, I found I was utterly misled. It isn't in you to climb to the
+top. You've too many sides to your nature. First one thing pulls you one
+way, and then another thing pulls you another way. To succeed, a man has
+to run in blinkers--straight on without minding the side issues. I
+imagined you a hundred per center, and I found you only a ninety per
+center. You can't climb to the top--it isn't in you!"
+
+"Climb to where?"
+
+Olive looked around at the vast throne-room of the shipowner, and her
+meaning was conveyed in the glance.
+
+"Larssen has that final ten per cent.," admitted Matheson. "But do you
+know what it means in plain language?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Utter unscrupulousness. Utter ruthlessness. Napoleon had that extra ten
+per cent. Bismarck had it. You're right when you say I haven't it."
+
+Olive moved irritably in her chair. "Sour grapes," she commented.
+
+"Call it that if you wish."
+
+She dug her pen viciously into the polished surface of the desk, leaving
+the holder quivering at the outrage.
+
+"Larssen has been merely playing with you," continued Matheson. "I don't
+want to blame, but to warn. I know the man far better than you do. He
+thinks you might be useful to him."
+
+"What are you going to do when the month is up?" she asked abruptly.
+
+"What do you want me to do?"
+
+She looked him straight in the eye, her pupils narrowed with hate. "Go
+out of my life!"
+
+"A legal separation?"
+
+"No use at all. That ties me indefinitely."
+
+"What then?"
+
+"One of two things: divorce or disappearance."
+
+"You mean a framed-up divorce? The usual arranged affair?"
+
+"No, I don't. I mean a divorce with that Verney woman as co-respondent."
+
+"I'll not have you insult her by calling her 'that Verney woman!'"
+
+"Miss Verney, then.... It's either divorce or total disappearance."
+
+"Larssen spoke glibly enough of disappearance, but the circumstances are
+very different now from what they were on the night of March 14th.
+Then, not a soul outside myself knew of my intention. You'd have
+claimed leave from the Courts to presume death, and it would certainly
+have been granted you. You would legally have been a widow, and I--as
+Clifford Matheson--should legally have been dead.... But now, both you
+and Larssen, and his secretary as well, know that Clifford Matheson is
+alive."
+
+"Does anyone else know?"
+
+"No one."
+
+"Larssen will certainly keep the secret. So will his secretary. So shall
+I. That's no difficulty."
+
+"You mean to apply to the courts for a certificate of my death, knowing
+that it will be fraudulent."
+
+"That, or divorce against you and Miss Verney." The lines of obstinacy
+were hard-set around her mouth.
+
+"Why are you so bitter against her?"
+
+Olive remained contemptuously silent. Her reason, as she saw it, should
+be obvious enough. If Clifford was so dense as not to see it, she was
+certainly not going to enlighten him.
+
+Even in face of what had gone before, Matheson was still hoping to
+soften his wife towards Elaine. He tried again. "Her life is ruined. Her
+work was her happiness as well as her livelihood. Now, both are snatched
+away from her. She is an orphan; she has no relatives in sympathy with
+her; her means are very limited; she has heavy expenses to face over the
+operation and the convalescence. She is under Hegelmann's care at
+Wiesbaden. This very morning he is operating on her. I must go back to
+Wiesbaden at once to hear how things are going."
+
+"You can wire and find out."
+
+"I prefer to go personally."
+
+"Is she so very attractive to you?"
+
+Matheson, sick at heart, reached for his hat and stick preparatory to
+taking his leave.
+
+A sudden thought struck Olive. "You swear to me that you've told no one
+you're Clifford Matheson?"
+
+"No one knows beyond yourself, Larssen, and Sylvester."
+
+"And you'll tell no one else?"
+
+"I must reserve that right."
+
+"It's not in our bargain!" protested Olive. "You were to disappear
+completely."
+
+"It won't affect our bargain," he retorted.
+
+"That's for me to say."
+
+"Heaven knows that I've given up to you enough already!"
+
+"I ask you to swear to me you'll never tell anyone else! Not even hint
+at it!"
+
+"I can't promise it."
+
+"That's your last word?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Olive flashed hate at him. Her hands were quivering when she answered,
+as though she could have torn him in pieces.
+
+"Very well, then! I'll reserve my right of action too!" Her fingers
+reached for the electric bell and pressed it imperatively.
+
+When Sylvester appeared, she said decisively: "Have a cab called for Mr
+Riviere."
+
+"Certainly," he answered.
+
+The financier took up hat and stick, and with a cold "good-bye" passed
+out of the open door, Sylvester following him.
+
+Presently the secretary returned to confer with Olive. Larssen had told
+him to keep in touch with her.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Clifford Matheson was once more John Riviere. He picked up his valise at
+the Avon Hotel and caught the first boat train for Germany. It took him
+to the Continent via Queenboro'--Flushing.
+
+His thoughts on the railway journey to Queenboro' were very different to
+those which had filled his mind when he sped Calaiswards on his way to
+England. Then, he had felt as if he had just plunged into an ice-cold
+lake, and emerged tingling in every limb with the vigour of health
+renewed. The course before him had seemed straight; the issue clean-cut.
+
+Now, he felt as if he had been tripped up and pushed bodily into a pool
+of mire.
+
+Circumstances seemed more tangled than ever. Finality had not been
+reached either in regard to his relations towards his wife, towards
+Elaine, or towards Larssen; in regard to the Hudson Bay scheme, or in
+his regard to his future freedom for work on the lines he so earnestly
+desired. The whirlpool had sucked him back, and he was once more
+battling with swirling waters.
+
+Out of all the welter of his thoughts one course became clearer and
+clearer. He must tell Elaine. He must put her in possession of the main
+facts of the situation which had developed in Larssen's office. That he
+could tell her without violating the spirit of his bargain with Olive
+was certain. He knew he could trust absolutely in Elaine's silence.
+
+Till then--till he had told her--there was no definite line of action he
+could see as the one inevitable solution.
+
+If the elements had seemed to bar his passage to London the day before,
+to-day they seemed to be calling welcome to him as train and boat sped
+him eastwards. The marshes of the Swale were almost a joyous emerald
+green under the sparkle of the sun in the early afternoon; the estuary
+of the Thames was alive with white and brown sail swelling
+full-bloodedly to the drive of a care-free, joyful breeze; torpedo-boats
+and destroyers sped in and out from Sheerness with the supple strength
+of greyhounds unleashed, tossing the blue waters in curling locks of
+foam from their bows; the open sea sparkled and glinted and danced with
+the joy of life in its veins.
+
+At sundown, the sky behind the foaming wake of the packet was a blaze of
+glory. The sinking sun wove a cloth of gold on the halo of cloud about
+it, and circled the horizon with a belt of rose and opal. Gradually the
+gold faded into fiery purple, with arms of unbelievable green stretching
+out to clasp the round cup of ocean; the purple died away reluctantly
+like the drums of a triumphant march receding to a distance; night took
+sea and sky into her arms, and crooned to them a mother-song of rest.
+
+On the railway station at Flushing a telegram was handed to Riviere--the
+reply to a telegram of inquiry sent by him from London. It was from
+Elaine herself:
+
+"Operation well over. Doctor hopeful. Little pain. Glad when you are
+back," it ran, and he had almost worn through its creases, by reason of
+folding and unfolding, before he fell asleep that night in the train for
+Wiesbaden.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+THE CHAMELEON MIND
+
+
+Many men are chameleons. They take their mental colour from the
+surroundings of the moment. They are swayed by every fresh change of
+circumstance, influenced by every strong mind with whom they come in
+contact. If such a man goes on from year to year in the same even groove
+of work, the chameleon mind may not be apparent on the surface; but if
+by any chance he is suddenly jolted from his accustomed groove, the
+mental instability becomes plain to read.
+
+Arthur Dean was of this class.
+
+When a clerk at L2 per week he had looked forward to promotion to L3 a
+week as something dazzling in its opulence, while L4 a week represented
+the pot of gold at the foot of the rainbow. Now a sudden turn of
+Fortune's wheel had lifted him to a salary of L6 a week and all expenses
+paid, and the work he was required to do for his money was so trifling
+in amount as to be almost ludicrous. He had merely to read over a few
+letters and send off a few brief cablegrams saying nothing in
+particular.
+
+As Lars Larssen had tersely phrased it, he was no longer a "clerk"--he
+was a "business man."
+
+And he knew that if he carried out orders faithfully and intelligently,
+his future with his employer was assured. Larssen had a strong
+reputation for loyalty to his employees. He exacted much, but he gave
+much in return. As his own fortunes grew, so did those of his right-hand
+men. If a man after faithful service was stricken down by illness,
+Larssen allowed him a liberal pension.
+
+That was "business" as the shipowner viewed it in his broad, far-sighted
+way. He saw business not as the mere handling of goods, but as the
+handling of _men_. In the attainment of his ambitions he was dependent
+on faithful service from his employees, and accordingly he made it worth
+their while to be faithful. He was liberal to them because liberality
+paid him. His position in the world was somewhat like that of a robber
+baron in the Middle Ages, carving out a kingdom with the help of loyal
+followers. The people he plundered were the outsiders, and a certain
+share of the spoils went to his men.
+
+So Dean knew that if he carried out thoroughly the work entrusted to
+him, Larssen would stand by his spoken promise. He resolved to obey
+orders as faithfully and as intelligently as he possibly could. He did
+not write home what form his new work was taking. In his letters to
+Daisy he explained simply that he was being sent to Canada on a
+confidential mission, at a big increase of salary, and that he was
+having a regal time of it. At Quebec and Montreal and Ottawa and
+Winnipeg he scoured the shops to find presents which would carry to her
+a realisation of his new position.
+
+Dean began to feel his importance growing rapidly as he journeyed across
+the Atlantic and around the principal cities of Canada. He thought he
+realised the meaning of "business" as it was viewed by the men up above,
+the men at the roll-top desks. He saw now that it was not hard, plugging
+work that earned them their big salaries. In a short fortnight he had
+begun to look a little contemptuously on the grinders and plodders. Why
+couldn't they realise how little their patient, plodding service could
+ever bring them? But some men, he reflected, were born to be merely
+clerks all their days. He was different--out of the common ruck. He
+could see largely, like Lars Larssen did. He was a man of importance.
+
+Canada pressed a broad thumb on his plastic mind without his conscious
+knowledge. Canada with her young, red-blooded vigour swept into him like
+a tidal wave of open sea into a sluggish, marshy creek. Canada thrust
+her vastness and her limitless potentialities at him with a careless
+hand, as though to say: "Here's opportunity for the taking." Canada
+taught him in ten days what at home he would never have learnt in a
+lifetime: that London is not the British Empire.
+
+The clerk who lives out his life in the rabbit-warren of the city of
+London by day, and in a cheap, pretentious, red-brick suburb by night,
+believes firmly that outside London not much matters. He lumps together
+the Canadian, the South African, the Australian, and the New Zealander
+under the slighting category of "colonials." He imagines them bowing
+themselves humbly before the majesty of the Londoner, taking their cues
+from London and reverencing it as the fount of all wisdom and might and
+wealth.
+
+There is no one more "provincial" than the Cockney born and bred.
+
+After ten days of Canada, Dean with his chameleon mind felt himself
+almost a Canadian. He was beginning to pity the limitations of the
+Londoner. He considered himself raised above that level.
+
+Winnipeg, the new "wheat pit" of North America, impressed him most
+strongly. He could feel the bursting strength of the young city--a David
+amongst cities. He could feel it growing under his feet to its kingdom
+of the granary of Britain. The epic of the wheat pulsed its stately
+poetry into him--thrilled him with the majestic chords of its mighty
+song.
+
+He had a half-idea that Lars Larssen's big scheme was in some way
+connected with the epic of the wheat, and it gave him fresh importance
+to think that he was serving such a man in so confidential a position.
+
+He tried a little gamble in "May wheat" with a Winnipeg bucket-shop,
+plunging what was to him the important sum of twenty dollars. Luck was
+with him full-tide. From the moment he bought, May wheat shot upwards,
+and in a few days he had closed the deal with fifty dollars to his
+credit.
+
+That evening he wandered around the city with money jingling in his
+trouser-pockets. He bought himself a good seat at a music-hall, and at
+the bar boldly ordered cocktails with weird names of which the contents
+were wonderful mysteries to him.
+
+On his way home to his hotel about midnight, a flaming placard outside a
+tin-roofed chapel caught his eye and stopped him for a moment. The
+wording was crudely sensational:
+
+             THE WICKED FLOURISH!
+              BUT FOR HOW LONG?
+A LIFETIME OF EASE FOR AN ETERNITY OF HELL-FIRE!
+             DO YOU CHOOSE HELL?
+         MAKE YOUR CHOICE TO-NIGHT!
+
+The meeting inside the chapel was in full swing. A roar of voices raised
+in a marching hymn swept out to the deserted street. Dean's lips curved
+contemptuously for a moment. Then the whim came to him to finish his
+night's amusement by a sarcastic enjoyment of the revivalist service. He
+would go inside and watch other people making fools of themselves.
+
+He entered the swinging doors of the chapel into a room hot with the
+odour of packed humanity, and found a place for himself at the rear.
+
+Presently the hymn ended on a shout of triumph and a deep, solemn
+"Amen." There was a shuffling and scraping of feet as the congregation
+sat down and prepared itself to listen to the preacher.
+
+He was a tall, lean man of fifty-five, with a thin grey beard and a hawk
+nose, and eyes that burnt with the intensity of inner fire. He was the
+ascetic, the fanatic, the man with a burning message to deliver. His
+eyes sought round his congregation before he gave out his text, seeking
+for the souls that might be ready for the saving.
+
+"And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the
+angels into Abraham's bosom; the rich man also died, and was buried. And
+in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar
+off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he cried and said, Father Abraham,
+have mercy on me and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger
+in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame. But
+Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy
+good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted,
+and thou art tormented."
+
+The preacher read out the words with a slow, even intensity, making them
+carry the weight of the inevitable. He paused for them to sink in before
+he began the delivery of his own message.
+
+"My friends," he said, "listen to this story from life. Many years ago
+there was a young man in this very city who had a great temptation
+placed before him. He was a clerk in an office, as many of you are. He
+was ambitious, as many of you are. He was hoping for riches and power,
+as many of you are.
+
+"One day the devil tempted him. He could become rich if he chose to
+sacrifice his conscience. The devil promised him riches and power and
+all that his heart could desire. And he fell.
+
+"My friends, the devil kept his literal promise. He always does. When he
+comes to you in the watches of the night, and offers you all that you
+desire on earth in return for your soul, you can know that he will keep
+his promise.
+
+"The young man is now rich and famous, and if I told you his name, you
+would say that he is a man to be envied. You see his portraits in the
+papers; you hear of his mansions and his motor-cars, his yachts and his
+splendid entertainments; and you would never dream that he is the most
+unhappy man in Canada.
+
+"The devil has given him everything he lusted for. And yet, not ten days
+ago, he came to me in secret and begged for help and counsel. His riches
+and power have turned to wormwood in his mouth. His wife and children
+hate him. His friends are only friends because he has money. He is the
+most lonely, the most miserable of men."
+
+The preacher leant forward over the pulpit and half whispered: "The
+wicked flourish like the green bay tree, but who knows what secret
+canker eats into their hearts? The devil stands beside them and whispers
+mockingly: 'I have given you everything your heart lusted for; does it
+taste sweet? Does it taste sweet?' So much for this world; and now, my
+friends, what of the next world?"
+
+The preacher straightened himself and with passionate sincerity flung
+out a torrent of warning and exhortation to his congregation--a
+lava-stream of burning words that bit into their very souls. Dean, who
+had come to mock, listened with a clutch at his heart that made him
+first shiver and then turn burning hot and faint. He passed his
+handkerchief over his forehead nervously, gripped at the seat to steady
+himself.
+
+At length he could stand the strain no longer As he rose and stumbled
+his way towards the door, towards the fresh air, the preacher stopped in
+his discourse to send an individual message to him.
+
+"Stay, my friend!" he cried. "To-night is the hour for you to choose.
+To-morrow I shall be gone. To-morrow will be too late. Choose now!"
+
+But Dean had thrust open the swinging doors and had disappeared into the
+night.
+
+At his hotel the porter handed him a telegram just arrived. It was from
+Lars Larssen--an order to proceed to New York and wait the shipowner's
+arrival there. It had been despatched by wireless from on board the s.s.
+"Aurelia."
+
+That scrap of paper came as a bracing tonic to Arthur Dean. It was an
+order, and just now he ached to be ordered. The curt message out-weighed
+all the burning words of the preacher. Even from three thousand miles
+away Lars Larssen could grip hold of the mind of the young fellow and
+bend it to his purpose.
+
+The next morning Dean was smiling scornfully at his weakness of the
+night before. He paid for a train ticket for New York via Toronto in a
+newly confident frame of mind. He was Larssen's man again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At the beginning of the journey Dean read papers and magazines and
+smoked away the long hours. Tiring of that eventually, he sauntered to
+the observation platform at the rear of the train.
+
+And there he found the preacher.
+
+There was an embarrassing silence. The minister knew him at once for
+the young man who had left his chapel the night before in the middle of
+the discourse. Dean knew that he was recognized, but did not wish to
+appear cognizant of it. He tried to look indifferent, but with poor
+success.
+
+The minister broke the silence by offering his card and saying: "One day
+you may need my help. If it please the Lord that I am alive then, come
+to me and I will help you."
+
+Dean took the card and read the name, the Rev. Enoch Stephen Way, and a
+Toronto address. He pocketed the card and murmured a conventional
+thanks.
+
+"You are an Englishman?" said the minister.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Travelling on business?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The answer was curt, and the minister saw that the young man resented
+any cross-examination of his private affairs. He therefore turned the
+conversation at once to impersonal matters.
+
+"How do you like Canada? How does it strike you?"
+
+"Fine!" answered Dean, relieved at the turn of the conversation. "So
+big."
+
+"You mean the extent of the country?"
+
+"It's not that, quite. I mean that people seem to think in a bigger way.
+I suppose it comes from having so much space around one."
+
+The train was now passing through the endless miles of forest-land and
+tangled hills on the route to Fort William, with scarcely a sign of
+human habitation except by the occasional wayside stations. Now and
+again the train would thunder over a high trestle bridge above a leaping
+torrent-river. Dean waved his hand vaguely to include the primeval
+vastnesses around them.
+
+"That's right," answered the minister. "There's no cramping here. Room
+for everyone. Room for spiritual growth as well as material growth. I
+know the feeling you have. When I was a young man about your age I came
+to Canada from the slums of Liverpool. I had been twice in jail in
+Liverpool. It was for theft. In England I should probably have developed
+into a chronic thief. There's little chance for a man who has once been
+in prison.... But Canada gave me my chance. Canada didn't bother about
+my past. Canada only wanted to know what I could do in the future."
+
+Dean's eyes widened at this frank avowal. He had never seen or heard of
+a man--and especially a man in the ministry--who would openly confess to
+a prison-brand upon him.
+
+"No wonder you like Canada," was his lame answer.
+
+"Tell me, my friend, why you left my chapel so hurriedly last night."
+
+Dean flushed. "I was feeling a bit faint," he returned.
+
+"That's conscience."
+
+"Oh, I don't know. The chapel was very packed and hot."
+
+"It was conscience. Why won't you be frank with me?"
+
+"There's nothing to be frank about."
+
+The minister looked steadily at him, and Dean flushed still further and
+fidgetted uncomfortably.
+
+"I must be getting back to my carriage," he murmured.
+
+"The Lord has brought you to me a second time. There may never be a
+third time. The Lord has----"
+
+A sudden jerk of the car threw them both off their feet. They were
+passing now over a high trestle bridge above a foaming torrent. There
+was a horrible grinding and jarring and crashing. The tail-car of the
+train flicked out sideways and hung half over the river, dragging with
+it the cars in front. For an age-long second it seemed as if the whole
+train would be precipitated into the water.
+
+Then the couplings parted.
+
+The end car, turning over and over, struck the river a hundred feet
+below and impaled itself on a jagged spur of rock hidden under the swirl
+of waters.
+
+Dean had been battered to insensibility before the car reached the
+rocks.
+
+He awoke to consciousness through the agonized dream that fiends were
+staking him down under water and torturing him by letting the water rise
+higher and higher, until finally he would be drowned by inches.
+
+He awoke, struggling frantically, to the reality which had dictated the
+dream.
+
+Waters were swirling around him, and his legs were pinned fast in the
+wreckage of the car tilted up on end amongst the sunken rocks. Burning
+pains shot through him. Far up above on the bridge men were shouting and
+rushing wildly.
+
+He screamed out for help. A wave dashed at him and choked the scream on
+his lips. He struggled to free himself from the wreckage that pinned him
+fast, and blinding pain drove him to unconsciousness again.
+
+As he awoke for the second time, a groan near by made him twist his head
+to see who it might come from. It was the minister, held fast amongst
+the splintered wreckage of the car, his face streaming red from a jagged
+gash in his grey head.
+
+"I can't get to you! I'm helpless!" cried Dean.
+
+The minister answered very simply: "My friend, see to yourself. The Lord
+has called me to his side."
+
+With a sudden jerk the car settled deeper in the torrent. Only by
+straining to the uttermost could Dean keep his mouth to the air above
+the swirl of waters.
+
+"Help!" he screamed to the bridge above. "I'll be drowned! Help!"
+
+The minister began to pray aloud: "Lord, Thou hast been pleased to call
+me, and I come. Receive my soul in pity, and forgive me my many sins.
+And, oh Lord God, grant that this my young friend may live to see the
+light and to worship Thee. Let this be his hour of repentance. Start him
+upon a new path, and keep his feet from straying. In thy mercy save him
+that he might live to Thy glory. Show him what Thou hast shown me,
+and----"
+
+The minister's hand dropped suddenly forward, and the waters closed over
+him with a snarl.
+
+From the bridge far above a man was being lowered on a rope, like a
+spider hanging from a thread.
+
+Dean watched him with paralyzed tongue. The strain to keep his head
+above the waters was racking him like a torment of the Inquisition. The
+horror of the situation grew with every second. Why did they lower so
+slowly? Would release ever come in time to save him?
+
+His hour of repentance! Yes, the preacher was right. This was his
+punishment for the part he had taken in the fraudulent personation of
+Clifford Matheson. It came to Dean like a blinding flash of light that
+God was demanding of him whether he would repent or no--whether he would
+vow to run straight for the future.
+
+The man on the rope was growing larger. His face held the solemnity of
+an Eternal Judge. In his two hands were scrolls marked Riches and
+Poverty. He held them out towards Dean, demanding his instant choice.
+The young man begged for a moment to consider. He shut his eyes against
+the decision thrust upon him. A voice thundered in his ears....
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+LARSSEN'S MAN ONCE AGAIN
+
+
+Of the eleven passengers in the car that plunged over the bridge, Arthur
+Dean was the only one saved. Nine had been drowned in the interior of
+the car when it crashed amongst the rocks of the torrent. Only Dean and
+the minister, standing in the observation platform at the rear of the
+car, had had a chance of life, and the minister had died before help had
+reached him. The shock affected Dean more seriously than his injuries,
+which were nothing worse than severe bruises and cuts. He knew that he
+had had a miraculous escape, and the horror of the peril wove in and out
+of his thoughts as he lay in hospital at Fort William, haunting dreams
+and waking thoughts alike.
+
+When he left the hospital he was a changed man--white and gaunt of face,
+and resolved in purpose to tell Lars Larssen at once that he would serve
+him no longer.
+
+He made for New York, and went straight to the shipowner's offices.
+These were situated at the very beginning of Broadway, overlooking
+Battery Park, on the tip of the tongue of Manhattan Island. Inside, they
+were very much on the same lines of the London offices--in fact, the
+latter were modelled on them. Above the dome of the building stretched
+the antennae of Larssen's wireless.
+
+To his intense disappointment, Dean was informed that the chief was away
+from New York, by the bedside of his little son at his school in
+Florida.
+
+The young fellow had worked himself up to the point of handing in his
+resignation; he had fixed on just what he would say to his employer; and
+this check threw him back on his haunches. To travel down to Florida
+would cost money, and he did not feel justified in paying for the
+journey out of the expenses allowance given him by Larssen. To explain
+by letter was too difficult. After some thought he decided to take a
+return ticket by day coach, and to pay for it out of his own pocket.
+
+Golden Beach, where the school was situated, was a fashionable winter
+resort on the Florida coast. In one of its several palatial hotels,
+Larssen had engaged a suite of rooms and had made himself a temporary
+office. Dean carried his modest portmanteau to the hotel, and waited in
+the piazza until Larssen should return from a visit to his boy.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when the shipowner came striding along the
+white, palm-shaded road, purpose and masterfulness in every movement.
+When he caught sight of Dean waiting on the piazza, he came up with a
+hand outstretched in cordial greeting.
+
+"Well, Dean, how are you feeling now? The accident must have given you a
+terrific shake-up."
+
+"Much better, thank you, sir."
+
+"Looks to me you could do with a fortnight's complete holiday," said
+Larssen, surveying critically the gaunt white face of the young man.
+"Say so, and it's yours."
+
+Dean stammered some words of thanks. This cordial greeting threw him
+into confusion--made it so much more difficult to say what he had come
+to say. For a moment's respite, he asked after Larssen's little boy.
+
+"He'll pull round. The crisis is over. His constitution's weak, but
+he'll pull round. Money saved him. On the 'Aurelia' I got hold of all
+the facts of the case by wireless, and took a grip of the situation. I
+sized up the doctors here as a couple of well-meaning fools. I wired to
+Chicago for a man who's made a speciality of opsonic treatment for
+pneumonia. His own invention--something the other doctors sneer at. I
+had him packed from Chicago to Golden Beach by special train, with full
+authority to boss the case.... Yes, it's money that saved my boy. Money,
+Dean, holds the power of life and death. Money is the mightiest thing in
+this world. I expect you've come to realise that lately, now you've left
+off being a clerk."
+
+Dean gulped and answered: "That's what I've come to speak to you about,
+sir."
+
+The shipowner shot a swift glance at him. "Come to my office," he said,
+and led the way.
+
+When he had the young fellow seated with the light full on him, Larssen
+asked coldly: "What's your song? Looking for a raise already?"
+
+"No, it's not that. I don't feel I can carry out this work."
+
+"What work?"
+
+"Your work."
+
+"Talk it longer."
+
+"It's like this, sir. When I was in Winnipeg, I went one night to a
+music-hall, and on my way home I went by chance into a chapel meeting."
+
+"Music-hall or chapel--it's all one to me, so long as you're not a
+drinker. You're free to spend your evenings as you like, provided it
+doesn't interfere with your work."
+
+"There was a preacher there, a Mr Enoch Way, who impressed me very
+strongly, sir. So much so that I had to leave the meeting. When I got
+back to my hotel, I found a wire from you telling me to travel to New
+York. I caught the morning train, and on the train I met Mr Way again.
+We were on the observation platform together when the railway-car went
+over the bridge. He died not a yard away from me, down in the river! He
+was a fine man--a great man! and if I could die like he died, with a
+prayer on his lips for someone who was only a stranger----" Dean choked
+and stopped.
+
+Presently he resumed: "And when I lay in hospital at Fort William, I
+thought things over and over. I began to see clearly that I ought never
+to have taken on the work you asked me to do."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"It's not right, sir! You know what you asked me to do wasn't right!
+It's fraud!" The words came clear and strong now.
+
+If Larssen had been a man of ordinary passions, he would have kicked
+Dean out of the door and told him to go to the devil. But the shipowner
+had not reached his present power by giving way to ordinary feelings.
+
+He answered very quietly: "I should have liked to meet that Mr Way. He
+must have been a man of personality. What did you tell him?"
+
+"I didn't tell him anything. I think he guessed. He was that kind of
+man--he could read right into you."
+
+"What did he tell you?"
+
+"The story of his life. He had been in prison twice when he was a young
+man."
+
+"I mean, what did he tell you to do?"
+
+"He told me it was my hour for repentance. That was when we were in the
+observation platform together. The next moment we were thrown over the
+bridge."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"He died praying God to help me to repent and live straight!"
+
+"Repent of what?"
+
+"Of taking part in a fraud. Of pretending a dead man was still
+alive--going to Canada and sending letters in his name so that his
+friends would think he was still alive. I don't know how I could have
+brought myself to do such a thing! I was tempted, I suppose, and I fell.
+But temptation is nothing--it's falling to temptation that matters!
+That's what he said in his sermon."
+
+"Anything else to repent of?"
+
+"Nothing very much, sir. Of course I've not been all I should have been,
+but I'd never done anything radically wrong until then."
+
+The shipowner rose and laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I
+appreciate your feelings," he said. "They do you credit, Dean. You're
+sound and straight, and that's what I want in my young men."
+
+Dean looked up in surprise. "I don't think you quite understand, sir.
+I've come here to-day--come at my own expense--to hand you in my
+resignation."
+
+"Well, there's no need for it. You've been worrying yourself over a
+bogey."
+
+"A bogey!"
+
+"Yes. There's been no 'fraud' at all. Clifford Matheson is as alive as
+you are. He knows perfectly well that you've been in Canada for him."
+
+"But the overcoat and stick! They were his--I'll swear to it!"
+
+"Yes, they were his right enough. He laid them by the river-bank at
+Neuilly himself."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"That's complicated to answer. I don't know that I ought to tell you
+without Mr Matheson's express permission. In fact, I want you to keep
+what I've just told you entirely to yourself."
+
+Dean felt bewildered. There was suspicion in his eyes.
+
+Larssen saw the suspicion and continued rapidly. "You think I'm trying
+to bluff you? I never bluff with my staff, whatever I may do outside.
+I'll give you proof. Have you got those signatures of Clifford
+Matheson's?"
+
+Dean produced them from his pocket-book.
+
+The shipowner rapidly unlocked his desk and drew out a printed document
+which he placed in the young man's hands.
+
+"Now see here. This prospectus was printed off a week after you left for
+Canada. You can know that by the printed date. Now what is the wording
+written over it in ink?"
+
+"'O.K., Clifford Matheson,'" read out Dean.
+
+"Compare it with your two signatures."
+
+"It's the same."
+
+"Exactly. That prospectus was passed by Mr Matheson some time after you
+imagined him dead and buried."
+
+Dean could answer nothing. The world had turned upside down for him.
+Larssen took the prospectus and the two specimen signatures, and locked
+them away in his desk.
+
+"Well?" he asked smilingly. "Am I the devil tempting you to run
+crooked?"
+
+"I must apologize, sir--apologize sincerely! I didn't know of all this.
+I thought----I thought----"
+
+"That's all over now. We'll forget it. You've proved to me you're sound
+and straight. You've carried out orders well. Carry out future orders in
+the same way, and I'll do everything I've promised for you. You know
+that I never break a promise to my staff?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, sir. That's well known."
+
+"Well, my next order is this: take a fortnight's holiday and get strong
+again.... Do you fish?"
+
+"I'd like to."
+
+"I'll put you in the way of some splendid fishing. Tarpon! After that
+you'll return to England with me. Sound good to you?"
+
+"You're too generous, sir!" answered the young fellow with deep feeling.
+
+He was Larssen's man once again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+CONFESSION
+
+
+Riviere was at his glass-topped, bevel-edged bench in the private
+biological laboratory at Wiesbaden, surrounded by his apparatus of
+experiment. At the moment he was looking down with one eye through the
+high-power immersion lens of his microscope at two tiny blobs of life in
+a drop of water. From day to day the salinity of the water was being
+slowly altered, and this was only one of thousands of experiments he had
+planned on the effect of changing conditions of life on the elemental
+organisms.
+
+Every day he was passing in review scores of slides on which the
+elemental reaction to abnormal conditions was unfolding itself for his
+observation. Each drop of water was a world where the vital spark was
+struggling against the harshness of nature. Each drop of water embodied
+a fight of primitive protoplasm against disease. Each drop of water was
+contributing its tiny quota to the new book of knowledge he hoped one
+day to give to his fellow-men.
+
+Like all trained microscopists, Riviere worked with both eyes open. The
+amateur observer has to screw one eye tight in order to avoid a
+confusion of impressions, and quickly tires himself. The trained man
+keeps both eyes open, and schools his brain to concentrate on the one
+vision and ignore the other. He sees only the miniature world at the
+further end of his complex of lenses.
+
+But Riviere, self-controlled as he was, could not keep attention on his
+experimental slide. The vision of the miniature world faded out, and
+through the other eye came the impression of the outside of the polished
+brass tube of the microscope; the glass slide beyond, lit up by the
+reflector as though with a searchlight; and the plate-glass bench
+mirroring the cases of specimens and the shelves of chemical reagents.
+
+And then the material vision of both eyes faded away, and he saw only
+the inner vision of Elaine lying with bandaged eyes in the darkened room
+of the Dr Hegelmann's surgical home. The great specialist, pulling at
+his beard with his long, delicately-chiselled fingers, so out of keeping
+with the shapelessness of his bulky, untidy figure, had taken Riviere
+aside and had given him orders in that wonderfully musical voice of his.
+
+"Fraulein is worrying--that is bad for the recovery. I will not have her
+worried. You must tell her that everything will come right--you must
+make her smile again."
+
+"But I'm only a casual acquaintance. We met by mere chance a few days
+before the attack at Nimes," Riviere had said.
+
+"Nevertheless, you can do much for her. She will listen to you gladly.
+You are no longer casual acquaintances. I am an observer of human nature
+as well as a surgeon, and I know that the mind is the key to the bodily
+health. I know that _you_ can influence her. Talk to her freely--it will
+not tire her. That is my order."
+
+But Riviere had not been able to carry out the spirit of the old man's
+shrewd command. When he was by her bedside, a great constraint had come
+upon him. What had been easy to embody in a letter, was terribly
+difficult to frame in spoken speech. Several times he had tried to open
+the way to a confession. He knew it must scarify Elaine, and he shrank
+from it. But yet it was plain her mind was not at rest, and that was
+worse for her than the knowledge of the truth.
+
+He, too, must act the surgeon.
+
+With sudden resolution, Riviere put away his microscope and placed his
+experimental slides in their air-tight incubating chamber. He changed
+from his laboratory coat to his outdoor coat, and made his way rapidly
+towards the surgical home.
+
+As he crossed the Wilhelmstrasse--gay with its alluring shops and its
+crowd of well-dressed, leisured saunterers--a man came up with
+outstretched hand to Riviere and then hesitated visibly.
+
+"Excuse me, sir, but I thought for the moment you were a friend of mine,
+a Mr Clifford Matheson. I see now that I was mistaken by a very striking
+resemblance."
+
+"My half-brother."
+
+"Ah, that's it!" said the man, visibly relieved. "Well, remember me to
+him when you see him. Warren is my name--Major Warren."
+
+"I'll certainly do so."
+
+"Thanks--good afternoon."
+
+It was not the first proof Riviere had had of the safety of his new
+identity. Though Larssen and Olive had penetrated the disguise, others
+who knew him well, even his own clerks, had been perfectly satisfied
+with the explanation of the "half-brother."
+
+When he was ushered into the darkened room at the surgical home, Elaine
+smiled greeting to him, and the smile stabbed him with self-reproach. He
+had come to wound her. There must be no further delay. He must act the
+surgeon _now_.
+
+Elaine half-sat, half-lay in a _chaise longue_. His white lilac and
+fuchsia--those were her favourite flowers he had discovered--were on a
+small table by her side, scenting the room faintly but definitely. She
+had a letter in her hands, which she asked him to open and read to her.
+
+"The nurse doesn't read English well," she explained.
+
+Riviere looked first at the signature. "It's from your friend Madge in
+Paris."
+
+"Then it will be good reading."
+
+As he read it out to her, he kept glancing now and again at her face to
+note the effect of the words. The letter was mostly a gay account of the
+girl's doings in Paris--the amusements of the past week, little scraps
+about mutual friends, theatrical gossip, and so on. It was meant to
+cheer, but it did not cheer. Riviere could see that Elaine was reading
+into every sentence the might-have-been of her own wrecked life. He
+hurried through it as quickly as possible, and then they chatted for
+some time of impersonal matters.
+
+His words began to come from him with a curious husky abruptness.
+Elaine felt the tension, and knew that he had something important to
+tell her. She sought to help him to it.
+
+"Your journey to London," she said. "Did it effect your purpose? You
+haven't told me much."
+
+"I had the hardest fight of my life," he replied, taking up her opening
+with relief. This would lead him to what he had come to tell her.
+
+"And you won?"
+
+"I was beaten to my knees."
+
+"That doesn't sound like you as I knew you at Arles."
+
+"The fight's not over yet. I managed to stumble up again for a final
+round."
+
+"May I know what the fight was about?"
+
+"I want you to know every detail of it," he answered swiftly. "I want
+your advice--your help."
+
+"My help?" There was a faint flush in her cheeks below the bandages.
+"What can _I_ do?"
+
+He paused a moment before replying, seeking the right beginning to his
+story.
+
+"You remember at Nimes telling me that your father had lost the last
+remnant of his fortune speculating in one of the Clifford Matheson
+companies?"
+
+"Yes. And I was surprised to find how different you were to my
+conception of your brother."
+
+"I am Clifford Matheson."
+
+"I don't understand!" she gasped.
+
+"I am Clifford Matheson. I took the name of John Riviere because ...
+well, the reason for that is one part of the story I have to tell you."
+
+The pain, so evident in the drawn lines about her mouth, made him pause.
+It was the first stroke of the scalpel.
+
+From outside the window came the care-free chirping of the birds making
+their Spring nests and telling the whole world of their happiness.
+
+Presently she whispered "Go on," as though she had steeled herself to
+bear the next stroke of the knife.
+
+"My reason was that I wanted to cut myself loose--completely--from my
+life in the financial world and from my married life. A sudden
+opportunity came to me two days before I first met you at Arles. I
+seized the opportunity and planned to disappear entirely from my world.
+I arranged evidence of a violent death, in the belief that it would be
+accepted by my friends and by the Courts. My wife would be freed; she
+would come into my property; and I myself should be free to carry out in
+quiet the scientific work I'd planned."
+
+"Which was _the_ reason?"
+
+"The last."
+
+"Your wife, then, is the woman I saw in the Cote d'Azur Rapide?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Elaine considered this in silence for some moments. A question framed
+itself on her lips; she hesitated; finally it came out:
+
+"Then you were not happy together?"
+
+"My marriage was a ghastly mistake. I was quite unsuited to my wife....
+But I made a bigger mistake when I thought to cut loose from the life
+I'd woven for myself. One thread pulled me back inexorably. I had half
+committed myself to a deal involving five millions of the public's money
+with Lars Larssen, the shipowner----"
+
+"Larssen!" she exclaimed.
+
+"You know him?"
+
+"No; but he was once pointed out to me at the Academy, the year the
+portrait of his little boy was exhibited there. I could feel at once the
+tremendous strength of will behind the man. Something beyond the human.
+I was fascinated and repelled at the one time. So that is the man
+who----"
+
+"Who wants to drag you into a divorce court."
+
+Elaine sat up rigid with shock. "A divorce court! How--why? What
+possible----?"
+
+"Larssen doesn't stick at possibilities."
+
+"I realise that, but----"
+
+"I'll not let him drag you into court. Be quite sure in your mind of
+that. But listen, Elaine!" Her name came from him unconsciously.
+"Listen, I want you to know every detail. It's your right."
+
+Elaine flushed. Her voice held a delicate softness as she answered:
+"I'll listen without interruption."
+
+Then Riviere told her of what had happened since the crucial night of
+March 14th, omitting nothing that she ought to know, sparing nothing of
+himself. She listened quietly to his account of the interview at the Rue
+Laffitte when he had, as he thought, made the final settlement with
+Larssen; and to the recital of what had occurred from the moment of his
+seeing the notice in the _Europe Chronicle_ of the coming flotation of
+Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd.
+
+He did not tell her of what he had seen through the lighted window of
+Thornton Chase, but passed on to the interview at Larssen's office.
+
+She shuddered as he spoke of the shipowner's brutal insinuations, and
+burst out: "It was blackmail."
+
+"Yes, but legalized blackmail."
+
+"You never gave in to him on that ground?"
+
+"Listen further."
+
+Riviere spoke of his wife's unexpected entry into the office at
+Leadenhall Street, and the scene that had followed when Olive and
+Larssen together had bent their joint wills to the task of forcing him
+to his knees. When he concluded on the signature wrung out of the
+shipowner at the last moment, Elaine cried her relief:
+
+"Then you're not beaten down! I'm glad--I'm glad!"
+
+On his further conversation with Olive, Riviere touched very briefly,
+merely indicating the terms his wife had rigidly demanded.
+
+"And that's how the matter rests at present," he ended bitterly. "I've
+taken away your livelihood; and dragged your name into this unsavoury
+mire; and there's no finality reached.... But I'll get this tangle
+straightened out somehow, if I have to choke Larssen to do it!"
+
+Riviere had strode over to the window--not to look out, because the
+curtains were close-drawn, but from sheer force of habit. He turned
+round sharply as a half-whispered question--an utterly unexpected
+question--came from Elaine.
+
+"Why did you leave me so abruptly at Arles?"
+
+Riviere's blood leapt hot in his veins and he answered recklessly:
+"Because I loved you! Loved you from the first moment we met! And I
+hadn't the right to love you. I wasn't running away from _you_--I was
+running away from _myself_."
+
+"Now I see. I thought then.... And when you offered to devote your life
+to me? You remember that, don't you?" She was trembling as she spoke.
+
+"I meant every word of it!"
+
+"It was not pity for me? I want the truth--nothing but the truth! Oh, if
+I could only see you now, to know if it were the truth!" Her hands went
+up impulsively to the bandages over her eyes, then dropped helplessly to
+her side as she remembered they must on no account be touched.
+
+"As God hears me, it was not pity but love!" he answered with passionate
+sincerity.
+
+"Then you give me something to live for!"
+
+Her meaning thundered upon him.
+
+"You intended to----?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"When?"
+
+"When my money was exhausted."
+
+"I never dreamt!"
+
+"What else was left for me?"
+
+"Surely you knew that I'd provide for you?"
+
+"I couldn't accept it--then."
+
+"You'll accept it now?"
+
+"I must think."
+
+"I insist! I claim it as my right! You wouldn't torture me all my life
+with the thought that I'd driven you to----"
+
+"Don't say it."
+
+Riviere took her hand and bent to kiss it reverently. There was silence
+for many moments--a silence of deep sympathy. Elaine's flushed cheeks
+told Riviere more plainly than words what she was feeling.
+
+"I'm so glad," she said at length. "So glad to know."
+
+"And I'm glad to have told you."
+
+"I shall get my sight back now. I have something to live for."
+
+"Please God, you will."
+
+"I feel it. I have something to live for.... Dear John!"
+
+She sought to take his hand in hers, but he rose abruptly from beside
+her couch and strode away.
+
+"We're forgetting!" he exclaimed bitterly. "I'm still Clifford
+Matheson."
+
+"Not to me."
+
+"Nothing can alter the fact."
+
+"Let us live in dreamland awhile," she pleaded gently.
+
+"But the awakening must come."
+
+"We have till May 3rd."
+
+"Till May 3rd.... And then?"
+
+"And then you will go back to the fight."
+
+"Yes. But Larssen won't relent. Nor will my wife."
+
+"Something may happen before then."
+
+"We must make things happen."
+
+"We?"
+
+"Yes--you and I."
+
+There was silence again for some moments. He came back to her side. She
+sought for his hand, and he let her take it in hers.
+
+Gradually the glow of an idea lit up her cheeks.
+
+"I think I see the way out!" she exclaimed.
+
+"What's the plan?"
+
+"Will you trust to me--trust to me implicitly without asking for
+reasons?"
+
+"I'd trust you to the world's end!"
+
+"Then write to your wife for me."
+
+"To say----?"
+
+"To say that I want to meet her."
+
+"But she'd never come!"
+
+"I know her better than you do. I saw her in the train that
+morning--heard her speak. It told me a great deal. We women know one
+another's springs of actions. If you write the letter I dictate, she'll
+come!"
+
+"If she came, it would only exhaust you and hinder your recovery. Dr
+Hegelmann would certainly not allow it if he knew. He's given me strict
+orders to chase away worry from you."
+
+"It would worry me still more not to write that letter.... I shall be
+fighting for you, and that will help me to get back my sight. Please!"
+
+"Then I'll fetch pen and paper and write for you. But we must let a week
+go by before posting. Every day will give you new strength."
+
+"Through your love," she whispered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+WHITE LILAC
+
+
+Happiness is a veil of iridescent gossamer draped over the ugliness of
+reality. Happiness is rooted in illusion--in the ignoring of harsh fact
+and jarring circumstance, and the perception only of what is beautiful
+and joyous.
+
+Happiness is an impressionist painting. One takes a muddy, sullen river
+flanked by rotting wharves and grimy factories and huddled, festering
+slums, and under the mantle of evening and the veil of illusion one
+creates a "Nocturne in Silver." The eye of the artist finds equal beauty
+in the Thames by sordid Southwark and the Adriatic lapping Venice in her
+soft caress. The common phrase has it as "the seeing eye"--but more
+justly it is the ignoring eye. The artist ignores the harsh and the
+ugly, and transfers to his canvas only the harmonious and the poetic. He
+epitomises happiness.
+
+Little children know this truth instinctively. They find their highest
+happiness in make-believe. A child of the slums with a rag-doll and a
+few beads and a scrap of faded finery can make for herself a world of
+fairyland. She is a princess clothed in shimmering silk and hung about
+with pearls and diamonds. She is courted by a knight in golden armour.
+She is married amidst the acclamations of a loyal populace. She is the
+mother of a king-to-be. She is radiantly happy.
+
+And in her self-created world of make-believe she is far wiser than
+these grown-ups who insist with obstinate complacency on "seeing things
+as they are." They take pride in being disillusioned.
+
+Not realising that happiness is bowered in illusion.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Let us live in dreamland awhile," Elaine had said with the wisdom of a
+little child.
+
+It was tacitly agreed to by Riviere. When together, they combined to
+ignore the tangle of ugly circumstance and the harsh struggle to come.
+For the time being they were in fancy two lovers with no barrier between
+and the world smiling joyously upon them.
+
+After a full day's work in his laboratory, he would come to her side and
+answer her questions with the tenderness of a lover.
+
+"You've brought me white lilac again," she said one day as he entered.
+"How did you first guess that white lilac is my favourite flower?"
+
+"White lilac is yourself," he answered.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Every woman suggests a flower. One sees many roses--little bud roses,
+and big, buxom, full-blown roses, and wild, free-blowing roses. One sees
+many white camellias, and heavy-scented tuberoses, and opulent Parma
+violets, and gorgeous tiger-lilies--those have been the women of my
+world. One sees many marigolds and cornflowers and poppies. But I've
+seen only one white lilac--you. White lilac is the fresh young Spring.
+And yet it is a woman grown. White lilac is sweet and tender and
+gracious. White lilac is so faint in perfume that any other scented
+flower would smother it, and yet its fragrance lives in my memory beyond
+any other. White lilac is yourself."
+
+"How many-sided you are! Financier, and scientist, and now ... and now
+poet."
+
+"No--lover."
+
+"Then love must be living poetry."
+
+"That many-sidedness is my weakness."
+
+"I don't want it otherwise."
+
+"The success race has to be run in blinkers. One must see only the goal
+ahead. There must be no looking to right or left."
+
+"If success means that, then success is bought too dearly.... Dear John,
+I don't want you otherwise than you are. I love you for your weakness
+and not your strength. That's the mother-love in a woman."
+
+"I can do so little for you."
+
+"So little? You've made this sick-room an enchanted castle for me! I
+dread the time when I shall have to leave it. But we won't speak of
+that--that's forbidden ground."
+
+"We'll speak only of the world we've created for ourselves. It's a whole
+planet with only you and I for its sole inhabitants. The planet Earth is
+far away in space--just a cold white star amongst a wilderness of
+others."
+
+"I used to think you cold and bloodless--that was at Arles and Nimes."
+
+"We were far apart then. We were next to one another in the physical
+plane, and yet a million miles away in the plane of reality. Only the
+invisible things are the realities of life.... You were to leave Nimes
+the next day, and I never expected to see you again."
+
+"You remember the arena at Arles, at sunset, when you climbed up to
+stand beside me. Did you know then that I wanted you to speak to me?
+
+"Yes, I knew that. But there was the barrier between us."
+
+"Were we destined to meet, do you think?"
+
+"_Quien sabe?_"
+
+There was a long silence between them--a silence which held no
+constraint, a silence that exists only between those in deep sympathy.
+Silence is the test of true friendship.
+
+"I was so glad to know," she said at length. "It outweighed everything
+else."
+
+There was no need to put her thoughts more explicitly.
+
+"Didn't you guess before?" he answered gently.
+
+"I couldn't be sure, and the doubt tortured me. I thought it might only
+be pity. Such a world of difference!"
+
+"You're sure now?"
+
+"Yes; your voice has told me more than your words. Even the notes of the
+birds soften when they...." She left the sentence uncompleted.
+
+"It was Larssen who brought us together," he meditated.
+
+"Larssen! He dominates us both. He seems to hold us in his hands. He's
+like ... like Fate. Pitiless, relentless."
+
+"And, like Fate, to be fought to the end."
+
+"I love you for your weakness, and yet I love you as the fighter. How
+contradictory it sounds!"
+
+"Such seeming contradiction comes from elision. One leaves out the train
+of thought in between. Between you and me there's no need for the
+lengthy explanation. There's scarcely need for words at all."
+
+"But yet I love to hear you speak. Your words heal."
+
+"Dr Hegelmann is shrewd as well as marvellously skilful. He said to me
+to-day: 'I can see you are obeying orders. Frauelein needs your doctoring
+as much as my surgery.'"
+
+"He's a dear man as well as a great man."
+
+Riviere burst out impulsively: "But the days fly by and my Cinderella's
+midnight rushes nearer!"
+
+"Not yours alone. Mine too!"
+
+"And when our fairy garments turn back to rags?"
+
+"We'll have had our hour--_our hour_! No one can take that away from us.
+Its memories----"
+
+"To me it will be the memory of white lilac."
+
+Elaine felt for the flowers in the tall vase by her side, and broke off
+a small spray.
+
+"Keep this in symbol."
+
+She kissed it before she gave it into his hands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+A CHALLENGE
+
+
+Olive was at her dressing-table at Thornton Chase, looking searchingly
+into a mirror.
+
+That afternoon she had been dragged unwillingly to the consulting-room
+of a Cavendish Square physician by her father, who had insisted on
+having "a tonic or something" prescribed for her. The physician was one
+of those men who achieve a fashionable practice by an outrageous
+bluntness--a calculatedly outrageous bluntness. He had found that women
+like to be bullied by their doctors.
+
+"You're drugging yourself to a lunatic asylum," he had told her after a
+very brief examination.
+
+"Drugs? I, doctor?" she had replied with a little surprised raising of
+her eyebrows.
+
+"Don't prevaricate! Don't try to deceive _me_. You look a perfect wreck.
+All the signs of it. Come, which is it--morphia, hashish or what?"
+
+"You're mistaken, doctor. I'm run down, that's all. I want a tonic."
+
+"And I'm a busy man." He rose brusquely and strode to the door to open
+it for her. "I must wish you good afternoon!"
+
+Olive caved in. "Well, perhaps now and again, when I feel absolutely in
+need of it, I do take a little stimulant," she conceded.
+
+The physician cross-examined her ruthlessly. Finally he prescribed an
+absolute cessation of drug-taking, and gave her a special dietary and
+mixture of his own which would help to create a distaste for the
+morphia.
+
+"Remember," he warned her as they parted, "you're looking an absolute
+wreck. Everyone can see it. Three months more of the same pace would
+make you a hag."
+
+Olive was searching her mirror for refutation of his words, trying to
+stroke away the flabbiness of her cheek and chin muscles and the heavy
+strained shadows under the eyes. Yes, it was true--the drug was stamping
+its mastery on her face, grinning from behind her eyelids.
+
+She must fight it down!
+
+The resolution came hot upon the thought that Clifford had noticed the
+change in her. No doubt he would like her to drug herself to death. That
+would suit his plans to perfection. Then he would be free to marry that
+Verney woman. She must fight down her craving for the drug if only to
+spite Clifford.
+
+With a curious vindictive satisfaction, Olive took out her hypodermic
+syringe from its secret place and smashed it to pieces with the bedroom
+poker. She gathered up the fragments of glass and silver and threw them
+into the fire, heaping coals over them.
+
+As she was poking the fire, her maid knocked and entered with a letter.
+The postmark was Wiesbaden; the handwriting was her husband's. No doubt
+a further appeal to her feelings, she reflected contemptuously. But the
+letter proved to be from Elaine--written at the invalid's dictation by
+Riviere.
+
+Olive read it with a mixture of indignation and very lively curiosity.
+The letter was no appeal to her feelings--rather, a challenge:--
+
+"I think we ought to meet," it said. "I have many things to tell you of
+which you know nothing at present--unless you have guessed. They affect
+your husband's position very materially. Unfortunately I am confined to
+a sick-room, else I should have come to London before this in order to
+call upon you."
+
+That was all.
+
+Olive's indignation was based on the obvious deduction that Riviere had
+confided completely in the girl. Her curiosity was roused by the
+thoughts of what she could be like to exert such a fascination, and what
+she could have to say. Perhaps the letter was a ruse to see Olive and
+then make another appeal for pity. Well, in that case there would be a
+very delicious pleasure in giving an absolute refusal--a pleasure one
+could taste in anticipation and linger over in execution. One could play
+with the girl a little--pretend to be influenced, hesitate, ask for time
+to consider, raise hopes, fan them, and then administer the _coup de
+grace_.
+
+To see Elaine promised an exciting diversion, very welcome just now when
+Olive had to give up the customary stimulation of the drug.
+
+These considerations united in deciding her to travel to Wiesbaden. She
+would cross to the Continent alone, her father and her maid being left
+at home. Sir Francis knew nothing as yet of Riviere--for Olive had told
+him nothing. She had an unlimited capacity for keeping her own counsel
+when it suited her purpose.
+
+The next day saw her _en route_ for Wiesbaden, following a letter to
+that effect to Elaine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+WOMEN'S WEAPONS
+
+
+Olive had a genius for dress. Her gowns had not only style, which might
+be due to the costumier, but also effect, which is entirely personal.
+They invariably harmonized with the occasion, or with the way she sought
+to mould the occasion. Sometimes she had snapped her fingers at fashion,
+taken matters with the high hand--and carried the occasion triumphantly.
+The illustrated weeklies published portraits of her when the theatrical
+market was dull.
+
+It was characteristic of Olive that although she was going to visit a
+blinded girl with bandaged eyes, yet when she left the Hotel Quisisana
+at Wiesbaden for the surgical home she had dressed studiously for the
+occasion. The part to be dressed was that of "the outraged wife." The
+gown was of clinging grey cashmere, cut with simplicity and dignity,
+with touches of soft violet to suggest sensitive inner feelings. The hat
+was of grey straw with willowy feathers drooping softly from it. She
+wore no jewellery beyond a simple pearl brooch and her wedding-ring.
+
+Dressed thus, she felt ready for any cruelty.
+
+A nurse showed her into the room where Elaine lay on her _chaise
+longue_ with bandages hiding the upper part of her face.
+
+"Do you suffer much?" asked Olive softly, when the nurse had left them
+alone.
+
+"Thank you--there is no pain now. Only waiting for the day of release,
+when my bandages are to be removed."
+
+"It must be terrible to know that one's sight can never be restored."
+
+"I don't expect it. But I shall have a fair measure of sight. Dr.
+Hegelmann promises it."
+
+"Still, it's best not to raise one's hopes too high. Doctors have to be
+optimistic as part of their trade. I remember one very sad case
+where----" Olive stopped herself abruptly as though her tongue had run
+away with her. "Pardon me--I was forgetting."
+
+"I know," affirmed Elaine happily.
+
+"You know what?"
+
+"That I shall have a fair measure of sight. The doctor tells me recovery
+depends largely on the mental condition. I was worrying myself up till a
+few days ago, but now I'm supremely happy. So I shall recover--I've
+something to live for, you see!" Elaine reached for the vase by her side
+and raised a spray of white lilac to breathe in its fragrance.
+
+The happiness so evident on Elaine's lips stirred Olive uneasily.
+
+"Then you've had good news from outside? I'm very glad to hear it," she
+said.
+
+"Good news? Why, yes, thanks to you! I want first to thank you for your
+generosity. I was worrying so until I heard the news from John."
+
+"From whom?"
+
+"Your husband. You see, he will always be John Riviere to me. That's how
+I knew him during these wonderful days at Arles and Nimes." Her voice
+became dreamy with memories. "I met him first, you know, at the arena at
+Arles. We sat for hours in the flooding sunlight reconstructing our
+pictures of the past. The stone tiers were vivid orange in the sunlight
+and deep purple in the shadows. A deep, greyish purple. We sat apart, I
+longing for him to speak to me and exchange thoughts. But there was no
+one to introduce us. How stupid convention is! At sunset we climbed up
+to the topmost tier and stood together as though on an island tower in
+the midst of a sea of marshland. I ached to speak to him, and still we
+remained silent and apart. That night came the introduction I longed
+for. I was wandering about the dark, narrow lanes of Arles when a
+half-drunken peasant tried to attack me. I cried out for help, and John
+came to my defence with his strong arm and his clenched fist. There was
+no need for formal introduction after that. We found we were staying at
+the same hotel...."
+
+Olive made no comment.
+
+Elaine continued: "Nimes is fragrant with its memories for me. The
+Jardin de la Fontaine, the Maison Carree, the Druids' Tower, the dear
+Villa Clementine! There was a little pebbly garden and a fountain by
+which we used to sit for lunch--there were two lazy old goldfish I used
+to feed with crumbs. Darby and Joan!... Those memories of Nimes wash
+away the burn of the vitriol, now that you've been so kind and
+generous."
+
+"I fail to understand," said Olive coldly. The interview was shaping
+itself very differently to what she had expected.
+
+Elaine turned her bandaged head towards her in surprise. "But John tells
+me you've offered to release him!"
+
+"Offered to release him! My dear Miss Verney, Clifford must have been
+saying pretty things to soothe you. I'm sorry to pour cold water on your
+dreams, but you'll have to learn the truth some time, and it's kinder to
+tell you now. Release him! My husband is not an employee to be handed
+over to somebody else at a moment's notice. There are such things as
+marriage laws ... and divorce laws."
+
+"Aren't we talking at cross-purposes, Mrs Matheson? I quite understand
+all that. John tells me that you have promised to divorce him. That's
+very generous of you."
+
+"You seem to ignore the point that a divorce suit involves a
+co-respondent."
+
+"No; not at all. I wanted to see you in order to thank you; and then to
+arrange the details so that the matter can go through with as little
+trouble as possible. Of course, after your kindness, I shall let the
+suit go undefended."
+
+Olive searched the bandaged face of her rival with merciless scrutiny.
+But the blinded girl seemed unconscious of that look of stabbing hatred
+and suspicion. She was apparently smiling happily--weaving day-dreams.
+Her hand went out to the vase of white lilac caressingly.
+
+For that was the part Elaine had set herself to play for the sake of the
+man she loved. He had been beaten down to his knees by Larssen and Olive
+in the shipowner's office because he had had Elaine to protect. To save
+her from the mire of the divorce court he had had to give in and sign at
+Larssen's dictation.
+
+Now she was determined to release him for free action. Whatever it might
+cost her in self-respect, she was going to make Olive believe that a
+divorce suit was the one thing she most ardently desired.
+
+"I shall let the divorce suit go undefended," she had said, smiling
+happily.
+
+Olive made a decisive effort to regain the whip-hand. "Divorce by
+collusion is out of the question!" she retorted sharply. "The King's
+Proctor sees to that. You don't imagine that it's sufficient merely to
+say you don't defend the suit? There must be evidence before the Court."
+
+Elaine bowed her head.
+
+"There is evidence," she said in a low voice.
+
+"At Arles, Nimes, or here?"
+
+"At Nimes."
+
+"Then my husband lied to me! He swore to me on his word of honour that
+there was nothing between you!"
+
+"John is very chivalrous."
+
+"You tell me he lied?"
+
+"I don't know just what he said to you.... And I want you to realise
+this: the fault was on my side. I loved him. I love him still. I shall
+love him always. Always, whatever happens."
+
+Then she added, because in the playing of her part she had determined to
+spare herself no degradation: "I care nothing for what people say. They
+may sneer and point at me, but nothing shall keep us apart."
+
+Olive went chalk-white with anger. She had not travelled the long
+journey to Wiesbaden to be fooled in this way. The ground had been cut
+from under her feet by Elaine's most unexpected attitude, and the
+situation needed some drastic counter-move on her part.
+
+"A pretty story!" she retorted. "If you imagine your childish bluffing
+would deceive me, you've a lot to learn yet! Clifford was not lying, and
+you are! That's the long and short of it!"
+
+"Then call him here and ask him before me!"
+
+Olive saw her opportunity. She could find out Riviere's address from Dr.
+Hegelmann or from one of the staff of the nursing home, and go to
+confront him before Elaine could see and warn him of the new
+development. It would be strategic to allay suspicion of her coming
+move, however.
+
+"I want to see nothing more of Clifford," she replied. "We've agreed to
+part. He's to go on with his life as John Riviere. If you like to marry
+him as John Riviere, you're quite welcome to do so as far as I'm
+concerned."
+
+"You mean that you want to get permission from the Courts to presume
+death, and then take possession of his property?"
+
+"Any such arrangement is entirely a private matter between my husband
+and myself."
+
+"I doubt if John would agree to that arrangement now. He would make you
+a suitable allowance, of course."
+
+Olive could have choked this girl lying helpless in her chair, and yet
+holding the whip-hand in their triangle of conflicting interests. She
+felt as if she had been tripped and thrown without a word of warning. To
+have travelled to Wiesbaden to play the outraged wife sitting in
+judgment on the woman who had sinned, and now----!
+
+If only Larssen were here to advise her!
+
+She tried another move, altering her voice to as much sweetness as she
+could command under her white-hot anger.
+
+"My dear, I appreciate your feelings," she said. "You want to fight for
+the man you love. You'd even blacken your character for his sake. You'd
+face the sneers of the world for his sake. I admire you for it. It
+brings us nearer together. I admit that I had misjudged you a little.
+That was because I hadn't seen you and spoken to you. Now I know what a
+fine character you are, and I want you not to bring unnecessary
+suffering on yourself. I'm older than you, and I've seen very much more
+of the world. I know that a good woman can't live with a married man for
+long. The situation becomes intolerable after a time. One can't ignore
+the conventions of the world one lives in."
+
+"I'm ready to face all that. I've counted the cost."
+
+"But is Clifford ready to? Think of him. Think of his work. He would not
+only be ostracised socially, but also scientifically. His work would be
+ignored. You would destroy his life-work. You would kill his ambition!"
+
+Olive's thrust went home, though not to the exact point she aimed at.
+Elaine remained silent as the thought raced through her of how Olive, if
+she deemed it to her own interests, might kill Riviere's work.
+
+"So you see, dear," pursued Olive, "that our interests are really very
+much the same. We both care deeply for Clifford. We both want to help
+him in his life-work. We both want to do our best for him. That means
+that we must pull together and not against one another. We must each of
+us think matters out coolly and dispassionately. Isn't that what you
+think as well as I?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Elaine.
+
+"Then I'll say good-bye for the present. I mustn't stay longer or Dr.
+Hegelmann will call me over the coals. I have to remember that you're
+not altogether strong again yet. So I'll say good-bye now and call again
+to-morrow morning."
+
+"Good-bye."
+
+"Do you like lilies? I must send you some. As I passed a florist's in
+the Wilhelmstrasse I saw some splendid tiger-lilies. Good-bye, my dear."
+
+Elaine waited with feverish impatience for three minutes to elapse, when
+she judged Olive would be clear of the house. Then she rang a bell by
+her side. She must get a message through to Riviere to let him know of
+the new development in the situation before Olive could reach him with
+_her_ story. Riviere knew nothing beforehand of Elaine's plan of
+self-accusation; it was vital that he should know of it now, when it had
+been carried to so effective an end.
+
+The nurse came to answer the call.
+
+"I want to telephone," said Elaine in her halting German.
+
+"But the telephone is downstairs!"
+
+"You must lead me there, nurse."
+
+"No; I cannot do that. It is against orders. The doctor has forbidden
+you to leave this room, Frauelein."
+
+"I must! I tell you I must! It's----It's--oh, what is the German for
+'vital?'"
+
+The nurse shook her head uncomprehendingly.
+
+Elaine rose from her couch and stumbled with outstretched arms against
+the nurse.
+
+"Please lead me to the telephone and get me my number!" she cried in an
+agony of anxiety.
+
+"It is against orders. Come, you must lie down again and keep quiet."
+
+There was a brisk rap at the door, and Dr. Hegelmann came in to see how
+his patient was progressing.
+
+"What's this?" he exclaimed, seeing Elaine standing up and the nurse
+trying to persuade her to return to her couch.
+
+"Doctor, please let me telephone!"
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"To Mr Riviere. I must speak to him quickly--I _must_!"
+
+"Nurse, do as Frauelein asks," he ordered briefly.
+
+The nurse made no comment, but led her patient downstairs at once,
+found the telephone number of the laboratory at which Riviere had his
+research-bench, and called for the connection.
+
+"What do they say?" asked Elaine after a torturing wait.
+
+"They ask me to hold the line."
+
+Again a very long wait.
+
+"What do they say?" asked Elaine again.
+
+"Wait a little.... Yes, I'm here." ... "Mr Riviere has just left the
+laboratory."
+
+"Where has he gone?" prompted Elaine.
+
+"Where has he gone?" ... "They do not know."
+
+"But I _must_ find him!" cried Elaine. "Try his hotel, please."
+
+The hotel people knew nothing of Riviere's whereabouts.
+
+"Say to them to give him the message to telephone me the moment he
+arrives."
+
+The nurse gave the message and the telephone number of the home.
+Suddenly she felt her patient sway heavily against her. The reaction had
+set in from the feverish tension of the last hour--Elaine had fainted
+away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE COUNTER-MOVE
+
+
+Olive, as Elaine had guessed, went straight to Riviere's laboratory to
+confront him. Not finding him there, she made her way to his hotel and
+again drew blank.
+
+This left her uncertain as to her next movements. Should she return to
+the nursing home, and wait about in its neighbourhood in the hope of
+meeting her husband on his way to see Elaine? That course seemed
+undignified. Should she try the laboratory once more? That seemed a mere
+waste of precious time. Should she walk the length of the Wilhelmstrasse
+on the chance of crossing him there? That seemed a very long shot.
+
+On the whole she judged it advisable to return to the Hotel Quisisana,
+and from there to hold her husband by telephone. Accordingly she said to
+the hotel porter at Riviere's hotel:
+
+"When Mr Riviere comes in, tell him to 'phone up at once No. 352."
+
+"Already haf I taken zat message, lady."
+
+"To 'phone up No. 352?" asked Olive in surprise.
+
+The porter referred to a slate by his side.
+
+"Your pardon, lady, I am wrong. Ze number gifen me before is 392."
+
+Olive opened her purse, took out a gold piece, and passed it into his
+hand.
+
+"Alter it to 352," she said.
+
+The porter hesitated, looked at the 20-mark piece, looked around the
+hall to see if anyone were observing him, and then said in a very low
+voice: "Very goot. Vat name shall I say?"
+
+"Mrs Matheson." She then left for the Quisisana.
+
+And that was why Riviere never received Elaine's message, and why he
+went first to call on his wife.
+
+Olive received him in her private sitting-room. She was horribly
+uncertain what line of action she ought to take, now that Elaine had so
+completely reversed the situation. Her nerves, weakened by the almost
+continuous drugging of the last few months, were all a-quiver. The
+threat of the "suitable allowance" drove her to frenzy. She wanted
+somebody to vent her rage upon, and there was nobody to serve the
+purpose. For a moment she regretted she had not brought her maid with
+her to Wiesbaden.
+
+Her attitude must depend on Clifford's attitude. But, whatever line of
+action was to be taken, one point seemed clear. She must be calm with
+Clifford--forgiving. She must play for the quixotic side of his nature.
+She had better be even cordial.
+
+Accordingly she gave him a wifely kiss when he entered.
+
+Riviere wondered how Elaine could have worked this miracle for him.
+
+"You've seen Miss Verney, I suppose?" he suggested.
+
+"Yes; and I must admit I was very pleasantly surprised. I had formed an
+altogether wrong opinion of her."
+
+"Then I'm glad you met.... You see now that your suspicions of her were
+absolutely unfounded."
+
+Olive knew the sincerity in Riviere's tone. So it was just as she had
+guessed--the girl had been attempting a daring bluff by her
+self-accusation.
+
+"Absolutely unfounded," agreed Olive. "That's why I want to forgive and
+forget."
+
+She gave him one of her sweetest smiles.
+
+Riviere was puzzled. He had an uneasy feeling that something very vital
+was being kept from him. He noticed his wife's hands all a-quiver, and
+that fact jarred against the calm of her words.
+
+He answered: "You've changed your attitude towards me very quickly. I
+take it you only arrived in Wiesbaden to-day?"
+
+"Yes; but it's more than a fortnight since that scene in Larssen's
+office. I've had time to reflect over things. I was too hasty in what I
+said then. You must remember that you sprang a surprise on me when you
+returned in that secret way, and naturally I was put out. I always hate
+to be taken at a disadvantage, as you ought to know by now.... Clifford,
+when _will_ you learn to read women as well as you read men? If you'd
+approached me a little differently; if you hadn't assumed I was hostile
+to you; if you'd only taken me a little more patiently and pressed your
+point more insistently----" Olive paused significantly.
+
+"Which point?"
+
+"Surely you remember?"
+
+"There were many points we discussed."
+
+"_The_ point--when you were generous enough to offer to start our life
+afresh."
+
+Riviere looked keenly at his wife. Her eyes were downcast, as though it
+hurt her modesty to have to make overtures. There was a faint blush on
+her cheeks.
+
+He began to feel he had been a brute.
+
+She continued: "You ought to have given me a day to think it over,
+instead of rushing away as you did. You ought to have known that a
+woman's pride won't let her yield without being pressed to yield. I
+wanted you to press me; I wanted to make a fresh start with you; I
+wanted to help you with your big work! Clifford when _will_ you learn to
+read a woman?"
+
+"What's your suggestion now?" he asked.
+
+"My suggestion is your own--to wipe out the past, and start our married
+life afresh. A few days ago I went to see a doctor--a man in Cavendish
+Square who has a big reputation for women's ailments. Father insisted on
+my going to consult him, and he was right. I ought to have gone to him
+months ago."
+
+"What did he tell you?"
+
+"The long and short of it is that I must give up society engagements and
+all excitements of that kind, and lead a very quiet life. I ought to go
+to some quiet place away from people, with someone with me whom I care
+for and who cares for me. That was the gist of his prescription. Of
+course I have a special dietary and medicine to take, but that's only
+incidental!"
+
+Her voice held a pathetic braveness, and Riviere was touched by it.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," he murmured.
+
+"It's hard on me, to give up all that."
+
+"I know."
+
+"It's meant a big fight with myself. Look at me--you can see it in my
+face. I'm looking a wreck."
+
+"The kind of life you've been leading would crack up any constitution.
+I'm glad you've taken advice in time."
+
+"It was the turning-point for me."
+
+"Where are you going for your rest-cure?"
+
+"Isn't that for you to decide, Clifford dear?"
+
+Riviere roused himself with an effort akin to that of Ulysses in the
+house of Circe.
+
+"I'd better be quite frank with you," he answered. "I can't live with
+you again as man and wife."
+
+"I realise your feeling so well. I admire you for it. It brings us
+nearer together. You feel yourself under an obligation to Miss Verney
+because of her intervention between you and that vitriol-thrower. You
+don't know just how you can repay it. Obviously you can't offer her
+money. A girl of her finely-strung feelings couldn't take a pension from
+you.... Now I have a suggestion that clears away the difficulty
+completely."
+
+"What is it?" asked Riviere non-committally.
+
+"Let _me_ make her an allowance. Let the money pass through my hands to
+her. It needn't be a large allowance. I daresay she could live nicely on
+three or four pounds a week. If you agree, I'll go and arrange it
+myself, so as not to hurt her feelings."
+
+That would be indeed revenge on Elaine! To buy back Clifford for a
+paltry four pounds a week--to have the delicate pleasure of doling out
+the money in the role of Lady Bountiful! She had a mental vision of the
+sweet little letters she could write to Elaine when she enclosed the
+monthly cheque--letters so sweet that they would sear.
+
+But Riviere answered abruptly: "What did Miss Verney say to you to make
+such a complete change in your attitude towards her?"
+
+"We chatted together this afternoon and came to realise one another's
+point of view--that was all. It was perfectly natural. A blind girl ...
+helpless ... without resources of her own.... Do you think I'm flint?"
+
+"Then she made some appeal to you?"
+
+"Clifford, dear, I don't think you and I ought to discuss what passed
+between Miss Verney and myself in the sick-room this afternoon. Some
+things are sacred."
+
+"I must know this: did she suggest the idea of the allowance or did
+you?"
+
+Olive hesitated as to how she should answer that question. It was very
+tempting to say that Elaine had suggested it--but decidedly risky.
+Riviere might ask the girl point-blank. It was better to be prudent in
+this game of strategy, and accordingly she replied:
+
+"I don't think you ought to ask me that question."
+
+"I must see Miss Verney at once," said Riviere decisively.
+
+"But we must think of her feelings. She's very sensitive, very
+highly-strung. Wouldn't it be kinder to let _me_ arrange it?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+"I ask you this for her sake!"
+
+"Still, I must see her at once."
+
+"As your wife, I ask you to let me end the matter once and for all.
+Clifford dear, I must speak out frankly, though I hate to have to do it.
+Listen to me quietly while I try to put the situation to you in the
+proper light.... You're in love with Miss Verney--I know it. It's hard
+for you to have to cut loose--very hard. But for her sake you _must_ cut
+loose. _Now, at once._ Matters can't go on as they are. I know perfectly
+well that the relations between you are absolutely innocent--I haven't a
+word to breathe against her character now that I've seen her and really
+know her. But things can't go on as they are. You must put yourself
+aside and consider her alone. You must think of her reputation. People
+will begin to talk."
+
+"What people?" asked Riviere uneasily.
+
+"At the nursing home I can see that they regard you as lovers. A woman
+realises a point like that instinctively. No word was said, but I
+_know_.... Things can't remain stationary in a situation of that kind.
+You know it as well as I do. You are a man of strong passions.... Miss
+Verney is highly-strung, very impressionable."
+
+And then Olive made her one big mistake. She added: "She confessed to me
+that--how shall I put it?--that it would be dangerous for her to see
+more of you."
+
+"Miss Verney told you that?"
+
+"In effect."
+
+"I don't believe it!"
+
+"It's as true as I sit here!"
+
+"I don't believe it for a moment!"
+
+"She said even more than that."
+
+"What?"
+
+"That she would be ready to live with you, divorce or no divorce. Don't
+you see the danger now? Clifford, I appeal to your chivalry! For her
+sake cut loose now, at once, before it's too late! Say good-bye to her
+by letter; leave me to arrange the allowance----"
+
+"I tell you I must see her!"
+
+"No!"
+
+"I _must_!"
+
+Olive lost control of herself. "I'm your wife! I forbid you to!" she
+ordered sharply.
+
+Riviere stiffened. "You told me a fortnight ago you never wanted to see
+me again."
+
+"I've changed my mind!"
+
+"There's a reason for the change."
+
+"I've told you the reasons!"
+
+"Not all the reasons."
+
+"D'you doubt my word?"
+
+Riviere's business training made him recognize the true meaning of that
+phrase. He had heard it so many times before from men who were planning
+some shady trick. He answered decisively: "I've the right to hear from
+Miss Verney herself what she said to you this afternoon, and I'm going
+to hear it. That's final!"
+
+Olive was now chalk-white with rage. Every nerve of her body was
+quivering, but by a supreme effort she regained control over her words.
+
+"You're insulting me!" she returned. "You doubt my word when I tell you
+that Miss Verney is ready to become your mistress. Very well, come with
+me and I'll repeat it in front of her."
+
+"No."
+
+"You're afraid of the test!"
+
+"I'll not discuss such a matter."
+
+"You're afraid of the test!"
+
+"I'll not have that insult put upon her."
+
+"It's true! I'll swear to it on the Bible! If it's not true, let her
+deny it before me. There's the challenge. You owe it to her as well as
+to me to accept. At least give her the opportunity of denying it, if you
+think you know her. But you don't know women--you never have, and you
+never will. I tell you you're living on a volcano. You've no right to
+compromise her as you're doing now. It's currish! At least I thought you
+had some spark of chivalry in you! But you won't make the test because
+you know I've spoken truth. You're afraid. If you want to prove to
+yourself she's the angel you think her, then make the test. Ask her
+before me in any form of words you like. Either that or take my word!"
+
+"I'll not ask her that."
+
+"Then at least come with me to see her, and satisfy yourself indirectly
+that I've spoken the truth when I tell you you're living on a volcano.
+Play the game, Clifford, play the game!"
+
+Riviere took up his hat and stick.
+
+"We'll go to see Miss Verney now," he answered.
+
+Husband and wife drove together to the nursing home to see Elaine. But a
+nurse informed them decisively that Fraulein Verney could receive no
+visitors; the excitement of the afternoon had been too much for her
+slowly returning strength, and Dr Hegelmann had ordered her absolute
+quietude. To-morrow, perhaps, she might be allowed to receive her
+friends--or perhaps the day after to-morrow.
+
+"I intend to call to-morrow morning," said Olive to her husband.
+
+"I too."
+
+"Shall we say 10.30?"
+
+"If you wish."
+
+"Then call for me at the Quisisana at ten o'clock.... In the meantime, I
+leave it to your sense of honour not to communicate with Miss Verney."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"You needn't trouble to see me to my hotel. I'll go back in the taxi."
+
+It was a night of very troubled thought for all three. To Riviere, with
+his complex, many-layered nature, especially so. The one inevitable,
+clean-cut solution to all this tangle of circumstance seemed farther off
+than ever.
+
+If Riviere had been a man of Larssen's temperament, difficulties would
+have been smoothed away like hills under the drive of a high-powered
+car. Lars Larssen would have said to himself: "Which woman do I want?"
+and having settled that point, would have jammed on the levers and shot
+his car straight forward without the slightest regard for any other
+vehicle or pedestrian on his road. Were any obstacle in his path, so
+much the worse for the obstacle.
+
+If Larssen under similar circumstances had wanted Elaine he would have
+taken her then and there and left Olive to do whatever she pleased. If
+he had wanted Olive, he would have thrown Elaine in the discard without
+a moment's remorse. Decisions are easy for such a man as Larssen,
+because the burden of scruples has been pitched aside.
+
+Riviere, on the other hand, was cursed with scruples--as Olive had
+phrased it, "a pretty mixed set of scruples." He felt he had to do the
+square thing by his wife, by Elaine, and by the public who were being
+called upon to invest their savings under the guarantee of his name. He
+had to smash the shipowner's scheme, and he had to get back to his own
+scientific work in peace and quietude.
+
+For Olive, as for Larssen, decisions were far simpler. Her objective was
+her own gratification; the only point in doubt was the most prudent way
+to attain it. Her present dominant wish was to revenge herself on
+Elaine, and to do that she was ready to make any sacrifice of other
+desires. Even her infatuation for Larssen paled against the white-hot
+light of this new passion.
+
+Elaine, exhausted by the tension of her interview with Olive, slept that
+night in a succession of heavy-dreamed dozes punctuated by violent
+starts of waking, like a train creeping into a London terminus through
+an irregular detonation of fog-signals. Why had Riviere sent no answer
+to her message? What had Olive said to him? Had she done the best
+possible thing to free Riviere? That was the never-ceasing anxiety. In
+her great love for him, the one thing she most desired was to _give_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE PARTING
+
+
+At the breakfast-table the next morning, Riviere found a letter with an
+official seal awaiting him. It was a call to Nimes to give evidence in
+the coming trial of the peasant Crau. He was asked to be there on a date
+a few days later.
+
+Olive was already waiting for him in the palm-lounge of the Quisisana
+when he reached there at ten-o'clock. She was smilingly gracious--had
+seemingly forgiven him his doubting of her word the evening before. They
+took a taxi to the nursing home, and on the way Olive stopped at a
+florist's to buy a bunch of tiger-lilies. Her choice of flower struck
+Riviere as very characteristic of her own temperament.
+
+They received permission to visit the patient, and were shown to her
+room by a nurse.
+
+"I have brought you a few flowers, dear," said Olive.
+
+Elaine murmured some words of thanks and felt the flowers to see what
+they might be. When she recognized them, they conveyed to her the same
+impression as they had done to Riviere. She drew her vase of white lilac
+nearer to her, and that trifling action seemed to Riviere as though she
+were calling upon him for protection.
+
+"We've come to talk matters over calmly and dispassionately," said
+Olive, taking the reins of conversation into her own hands. "My husband
+and myself are both anxious to make some arrangement which will be for
+your happiness. Clifford feels, and I entirely agree with him, that he's
+under a distinct obligation to you."
+
+"There is no obligation," answered Elaine.
+
+"It's very generous of you to say so, but both Clifford and I feel it
+deeply. Your livelihood has been taken away from you, and it's our bare
+duty to make you some form of compensation. The suggestion of letting it
+come through me would be a very suitable way of solving a delicate
+problem." She turned to her husband. "Don't you think so, Clifford?"
+
+"I want to hear what Miss Verney has to say."
+
+"Very well."
+
+Elaine paused before she replied, so that her words might carry a fuller
+significance. "Mrs Matheson," she said, "I don't wish to accept anything
+from you."
+
+"That means, I take it, that you are ready to accept from my husband?"
+
+"Accept what?"
+
+"Well, financial assistance."
+
+"No."
+
+"Then what are you going to do when you leave the home?"
+
+"I shall return to my relations until I've learnt a new trade and can
+manage to support myself."
+
+"But surely you will let us help you with the expenses of the first few
+months?"
+
+"I prefer not."
+
+"Clifford, can't you persuade Miss Verney?"
+
+"I don't wish to persuade her."
+
+Olive tried a fresh avenue of attack. "Very well, then, let's leave that
+point. What I want to say now is still more delicate. I don't want to
+wound your feelings, but now that all three of us are together the
+matter ought to be discussed calmly and dispassionately and settled once
+and for all."
+
+Riviere interrupted. "You promised me that this matter should not be
+mentioned."
+
+"Promised?"
+
+"In effect."
+
+"But we _must_ discuss it!"
+
+Elaine put in a word: "I'd sooner the whole situation were threshed out
+now. Please!"
+
+"As you will," answered Riviere. "But remember that you're perfectly
+free to close the discussion at any moment."
+
+Olive resumed: "Yesterday, when we had our chat together, I was forced
+to draw certain inferences. And I had to tell Clifford that it would be
+only right for him to avoid compromising you further."
+
+"What inferences?"
+
+"Must I speak more definitely?"
+
+"I prefer plain speaking."
+
+"Well, that people would begin to talk malicious gossip about yourself
+and my husband."
+
+Riviere interrupted again. "This discussion is an insult to Miss
+Verney."
+
+But Elaine answered: "I prefer to thresh it out.... What people say
+matters nothing to me. In any case, nobody knows that Mr Riviere is your
+husband."
+
+"But they will."
+
+"You mean that you'll tell them?"
+
+"It must come out."
+
+"You mean that you want Mr Riviere to return to you openly as your
+husband?"
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"Then why did you tell me yesterday that you had cut definitely loose
+from him? That you never wanted to see him again? That he was free to
+live out his life as John Riviere?"
+
+"Why did you say that you had lived with my husband at Nimes?" retorted
+Olive sharply. "That you'd let the divorce suit go undefended?"
+
+It thundered upon Riviere what Elaine had done for him--how she had
+wrought her miracle--and that moment cleared his mind of all doubt and
+hesitancy.
+
+"I've heard sufficient," he cut in.
+
+"You've not heard all I've got to say!" pursued Olive vindictively, and
+a torrent of words poured out from her: "It was a pretty scheme your
+Miss Verney had planned! She was to egg me on to divorce you, so that
+she could get a clutch on your feelings and marry you and your money!
+Your money--that puts it in a nutshell! That's the kind of woman a man
+like you falls in love with! A woman who's too shrewd and too cunning to
+commit herself. Who provokes and tantalizes and lures on a man, and then
+stops him short at the very last moment. The musical-comedy type. The
+'mind the paint' girl. A hundred times worse than the frankly vicious. A
+woman who knows that a week of living with a man would sicken him of
+her. Who's shrewd enough to tantalize him into hand-and-feet marriage.
+That's your Miss Verney. You're welcome to her as Miss Verney! So long
+as I live, you'll never have her as your wife! That's my last word--my
+absolute final last word!"
+
+Olive rose from her chair, quivering in every limb, and swept out of the
+room.
+
+Elaine bowed her head in the shame of those bitter words.
+
+Riviere came to her side and kissed her hand reverently.
+
+"You did this for me. I understand all. Elaine, dear, I understand it
+all. There's no need for you to explain."
+
+"You don't believe----?"
+
+"Not a word of it! You're the sweetest, bravest----" Words failed him,
+and he could only take her hand tenderly in his and let his welter of
+unspoken thoughts go silently to her.
+
+"The things she said--you don't believe they're true?" she faltered.
+
+"Don't speak of them.... You've piled up a debt on me more than I can
+ever repay. You've freed my hands to fight down Larssen, but at what a
+cost to yourself?"
+
+"Then it's freed you?"
+
+"Absolutely. The divorce was Larssen's trump-card. You've fought for me
+far better than I could ever have fought for myself. To think of you
+lying there helpless, and yet battling for me! My God, but at what a
+cost to yourself!"
+
+"If it's freed you, dear John, nothing else matters."
+
+"It has. Now I can smash Larssen's scheme.... But what of you, what of
+you?"
+
+"We must part--now," she murmured.
+
+"Why now?"
+
+"Don't ask me to explain."
+
+Riviere clenched his hand. "Yes, you're right," he said after a pause.
+"We must part--for a time."
+
+"It will be best for both of us. You must go back to your world."
+
+"I'm wanted at Nimes a few days hence, to give evidence at the trial."
+
+"Then leave Wiesbaden to-day."
+
+"Give me till to-morrow near you."
+
+"No, you must go to-day.... We'll say good-bye now."
+
+She held out her hand, but he took her in his arms and kissed her
+passionately.
+
+"No--don't!"
+
+"Forgive me--I'm a brute!"
+
+"Dear John, go now. Don't stay. Go back to your world and fight your
+battle. I shall recover my sight--I feel that more strongly than ever. I
+shall need it if only to read your letters. Go now, and take with you my
+wishes for all happiness and all success in your life-work!"
+
+Riviere tried to answer, but the words choked in his throat.
+
+"Elaine!" was all he could utter.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That night he took train for Paris, to call on Barreze the manager of
+the Odeon Theatre.
+
+There he fixed up an arrangement by which Barreze would send to Elaine,
+in the guise of payment for the uncompleted work she had done for him, a
+substantial sum of money. It was a temporary expedient only, but it
+would serve Riviere's purpose.
+
+Then he proceeded to Nimes to attend the trial of the youth Crau.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+HEIR TO A THRONE
+
+
+The liner "Claudia" was ripping her way eastwards through a calm
+Atlantic, like shears through an endless length of blue muslin.
+
+An unclouded morning sun beat full upon the pale cheeks and delicate
+frame of Larssen's little twelve-year-old son, alone with his father on
+their private promenade deck. The contrast between the broad frame of
+the shipowner and the delicate, nervous, under-sized physique of his boy
+was striking in its irony. Here was the strong man carving out an empire
+for his descendants, and here was his only son, the inheritor-to-be.
+Neither physically nor mentally could Olaf ever be more than the palest
+shadow of his father, and yet Larssen was the only person who could not
+see this. He was trying to train his boy to hold an empire as though he
+were born to rule.
+
+"How clever Mr Dean is!" Olaf was saying.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Look at the set of wheels he's rigged up for me so as I can sail my
+boat on deck." He held up a beautiful model yacht, perfect in line and
+rig, with which he was playing. Underneath it was a crudely-made
+contrivance of wood and wire, with four corks for wheels--the handiwork
+of Arthur Dean.
+
+"Was that your idea?" inquired Larssen.
+
+"No, Dad.... Now, watch me sail her up to windward."
+
+"Wait. You ought to have thought out that idea for yourself."
+
+"I haven't any tools on board, Dad."
+
+"Then go and make friends with the carpenter." Larssen took up the crude
+contrivance and looked it over contemptuously. "I want you to think out
+a better device; pitch this overboard; then find out where Mr Chips
+lives, make friends with him, and get him to construct you a proper set
+of wheels to your own design."
+
+The boy looked troubled. "I don't want to throw it overboard!" he
+protested. "I want to sail my boat on deck now."
+
+"Sonny, there are heaps of things that are good for you to do which you
+won't want to do. It's like being told by the doctor to take medicine.
+It's nasty to take, but very good for you.... I want to see you one day
+a big strong fellow able to handle men and things--a great big strong
+fellow men will be afraid of. That's to be your ambition. You've got to
+learn to handle men and things. Here's one way to do it."
+
+"But Mr Dean wouldn't like it if he knew I'd thrown his wheels
+overboard."
+
+"Dean is a servant. He's paid to do things for you. His feelings don't
+matter.... But you needn't tell him you threw his wheels away. Say they
+slipped over the side. Now, get a pencil and paper, and let me see you
+work out a better contrivance."
+
+Olaf obeyed, though reluctantly, and presently he was deep amongst the
+problems of the inventor. Lars Larssen watched the boy with a tenderness
+that few would have given him credit for.
+
+"I've got it! Look, Dad!" cried the boy excitedly, and began to explain
+his idea and his tangled drawing.
+
+"Good! That's what I want from you. Now, don't you feel better at having
+worked out the idea all on your own?"
+
+"Yes, Dad. I'll go to Mr Chips at once and get it made. In which part of
+the ship does he live?"
+
+"You must find that out yourself."
+
+"How much shall I offer him?"
+
+"Don't offer him anything. Make friends with him, and he'll do it for
+you for nothing."
+
+"But I always give people money to do things for me."
+
+"That's a bad habit. Drop it. Get things done for you for nothing."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I want you to be a business man when you grow up, and not
+merely a spender of money."
+
+"What does a business man mean exactly?"
+
+"A ruler of men."
+
+The boy looked troubled again. His confusion of thoughts sorted
+themselves into his declaration: "I don't want to be a ruler of men; I
+want people to like me."
+
+"That's a poor ambition."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Mostly anyone wants that. It's a sign of weakness. Drop it."
+
+"What ought I to want?"
+
+"People to fear you."
+
+"Why should they be afraid of me, Dad?"
+
+"For one thing, because some day you'll have all my money and all my
+power. Just how big that is you can't realise yet. That's one reason.
+The other reason must lie with yourself--you must make yourself strong
+and afraid of nothing. How many fights did you have this term, before
+you got ill?"
+
+"Only one."
+
+It was clear from the boy's downcast eyes that he had been beaten in his
+fight.
+
+"That's bad. That's disobeying my orders. Didn't I tell you to fight
+every boy in the school until they acknowledged you master?"
+
+"I'm not strong enough."
+
+"You must make yourself strong enough. It's not a question of muscle,
+but will-power. When you're properly over this illness, I'll pick you
+out a school in England with about thirty or forty boys of your own age.
+They're soft, these English boys, softer than Americans. I want you to
+lick your way through them, and then I'll take you back to the States to
+polish up on Americans."
+
+After a pause came this question: "Dad, must I have all your money when
+I grow up? Couldn't some one else have some of it?"
+
+"Sonny, don't look at it that way. You're born to an empire; try and
+make yourself fit for it. I'm building it for you. It'll be a glorious
+inheritance.... Now throw those wheels overboard, and run along and find
+Mr Chips."
+
+Presently Arthur Dean came to the private deck to ask if Larssen had any
+orders for him. He was acting as interim private secretary.
+
+The shipowner dictated a few messages to be sent by wireless, and then
+remarked:
+
+"When you're back in London, I suppose you'll be going to see your young
+lady as well as your parents?"
+
+Dean blushed.
+
+"Taking her back any presents?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"A ring?"
+
+"Not yet, sir."
+
+"Well, I don't doubt that'll come in its own good time."
+
+"You don't think I ought to----?" began Dean tentatively.
+
+"I don't interfere in that. It's your own private affair and no concern
+of mine. You can afford to marry her on your present salary. If she's a
+girl likely to make a good wife, I hope you _will_ marry her. I like my
+employees to be married. It's healthy for them and makes them better
+business men. Is she an ambitious girl?"
+
+"I hardly know that."
+
+"Well, my advice to you is this: marry someone ambitious. You'll need
+it. You're inclined to weaken."
+
+"It's very good of you to take such an interest in me."
+
+"I like you. I want to make you one of my right-hand men eventually. Now
+I want to say this in particular: keep business affairs to yourself."
+
+"I'll certainly do so, sir."
+
+"Don't talk about them even to your parents, even to your young lady.
+I'm paying you a very good salary for a man of your age, and I expect a
+closed mouth about my affairs."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Get the reason for it. This deal I'm engaged on is a big thing, and
+there are plenty of City people in London who'd like to know just what
+I'm planning, and just why Matheson and I sent you to Canada. I want you
+to keep them guessing until the scheme's floated. D'you get that?"
+
+"Certainly, sir! You may rely on me not to say anything about your
+business affairs to anybody. I know how things leak around once
+anybody's told."
+
+"That's right! Now send off those wireless messages, and then go and
+amuse yourself for the rest of the morning. Cabin and all quite
+comfortable?"
+
+"Quite, thank you, sir," answered Dean, and went off buoyantly.
+
+In the afternoon Olaf was sailing his yacht on deck on the new set of
+wheels made for him by the ship's carpenter, while his father sat
+stretched in a long deck-chair watching him tenderly and weaving dreams
+for his future. The thought crossed his mind--not for the first
+time--whether it wouldn't be advisable to get a stepmother for the boy.
+Larssen had a strong intuitive feeling that he would not live to old
+age, and he wanted to know that the boy would have someone to care for
+him and to stand behind him while he was seating himself firmly on his
+father's throne.
+
+Specifically, the shipowner was reviewing Olive as a possible
+stepmother. There was no scrap of passion in his thoughts. He was
+viewing the matter as a business proposition, weighing the pros and cons
+calmly and cool-bloodedly. Would Olive be the right stepmother for the
+boy? She was of good family, with influential connections. She made a
+fine presence as a hostess. Her ambition was undoubted. Even the
+trifling point of the similarity between Olive's name and that of his
+boy impressed him, by some curious twist of mind, as favourable.
+
+"Dad, look at me!" called out Olaf. "I've made some buoys, and now I'm
+going to sail her round a racing course."
+
+He had run needles through three corks, and planted them in the
+pitch-seams of the deck to form the three points of a large triangle, in
+imitation of the buoys of a yacht-race course.
+
+"This buoy is Sandy Hook, and this one is the Fastnet, and that one over
+there is Gibraltar."
+
+"Good!" said the shipowner. "I'll time the race." He took out his watch.
+"Are you ready?... Go!"
+
+When the course was completed and the yacht lay at anchor again at Sandy
+Hook, Larssen called his son to the seat at his side.
+
+"Do you remember much of your mother?" he asked.
+
+The boy's face clouded over. "I don't know. Sometimes I seem to see her
+very plainly, and sometimes again I don't seem to see her at all when I
+try to. Was mother very beautiful?"
+
+"Very beautiful, to me," assented the shipowner.
+
+"I think I should have loved her very much."
+
+"How would you like to have a new mother?"
+
+Olaf thought this over in silence for some time.
+
+"It depends," he ventured at length.
+
+"Depends on what?"
+
+"I don't know. I must see her. Then I could tell you."
+
+"You care for the idea?"
+
+"I must see her first."
+
+"Yes, that's right. Well, Sonny, as soon as we're in London I'll take
+you to see her. But remember this: don't breathe a word of it to anyone.
+Keep a tight mouth. That's what a business man has always got to learn."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because silence in the right place means big money."
+
+Olaf reflected over the new problem for some time.
+
+"Dad," he said presently, "I'd like her to like me very much. And I'd
+like her to be a good sailor."
+
+Larssen smiled at the naive requirement.
+
+"Is that very important?"
+
+"Yes. You see, I want her to live with us on a yacht, and some women are
+so ill whenever they go on board a boat."
+
+"Which do you like best: the country, or a big city, or the sea?"
+
+"The sea--the sea! I hate a big city. The crowds of people make me
+feel...." He groped about for a word which would express his feeling
+" ... make me feel so lonely."
+
+"You'll have to overcome that. One day your work will lie in controlling
+crowds of people."
+
+"Dad, let me stay on a yacht till I get quite well again!"
+
+Larssen considered for a moment. "Well, if it will help you to get your
+fighting muscle, I'll arrange it. There's a small cruising yacht of
+mine--the 'Starlight'--lying in Southampton Water. I might have her
+cruise about the Channel for you."
+
+"Thank you, Dad, I'd like that immensely."
+
+"Yes, I'll see to that. We must go up to London for a few days, and
+meanwhile I'll arrange to have the 'Starlight' put in order for you."
+
+"Can I be captain of the yacht?"
+
+"That's the spirit I want! But you can't be captain at a jump. You must
+work your way up. First you'll have to work for your mate's ticket. I'll
+tell the captain to put you through your paces--give you your trick at
+the wheel and so on. But see here, Sonny, it'll be work and not play.
+You'll have to obey orders just as if you were a new apprentice."
+
+"I love the sea! I'll work right enough."
+
+Larssen grew grave with memories. "Work? You'll never know work as I
+knew it. At fourteen I was a drudge on a Banks trawler. Kicked and
+punched and fed on the leavings of the fo'castle. Hands skinned raw with
+hauling on the dredge-ropes----"
+
+A deck steward bearing a wireless telegram came to interrupt them. The
+message was from Olive, and it read:
+
+"Important developments. Come to see me as soon as you arrive."
+
+Larssen scribbled an answer and handed it to the steward for despatch.
+
+The boy was thinking over the coming cruise of the "Starlight." Suddenly
+he exclaimed: "I've got an idea! Invite her on board my yacht!"
+
+Larssen smiled. "That's a very practical test for her!" he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+THE REINS HAD SLIPPED
+
+
+The Italian garden at Thornton Chase was perfect in its artificiality.
+It sloped down towards Richmond Park in a series of stately terraces
+with box-hedge borders trimmed so evenly that not a twig or leaf
+offended against the canons of symmetry. They were groomed like a
+racehorse. Centred in a square of barbered lawn was a fountain where
+Neptune drove his chariot of sea-horses. The Apollo Belvedere, the
+Capitoline Venus, Minerva, and Flora had their niches against a
+greenhouse of which the roof formed the terrace above--a greenhouse
+where patrician exotics held formal court.
+
+Olive was feeding a calm-eyed Borzoi from the tea-table when Larssen and
+his little boy arrived. The pose was that of a Gainsborough
+portrait--she had dressed the part as closely as modern dress would
+allow. Sir Francis was leaning back in an easy-chair with one leg
+crossed squarely over the other knee, and in spite of country tweeds and
+Homburg hat, he was somehow well within the picture. But Lars Larssen,
+with his broad frame and his masterful step, was markedly out of harmony
+with that atmosphere of leisured artificiality.
+
+A lesser man would have been conscious of his incongruity--not so with
+Larssen. He forced his personality on his environment. He made the
+Italian garden seem out of place in his presence. A sensitive would
+almost have felt the resentment of the trimly correct hedges and shrubs
+and the classic statues at being thrust out of the picture on Larssen's
+arrival.
+
+For some time the conversation progressed on very ordinary tea-table
+lines. Olive made much of the little boy--petted him, sent in for
+special cakes to tempt him with, showered a host of questions on him
+about school and games and hobbies. Sir Francis exchanged views on
+weather, politics, and the coming cricket season with his guest. The
+latter subject mostly resolved itself into a monologue on the part of
+the baronet, since cricket held no more interest for Larssen than
+ninepins; but he listened with polite attention while Sir Francis
+expounded the chances of the Australian Team (he had been to Lord's that
+morning to watch them at preliminary practice), and his own pet theory
+of how the googly ought to be bowled.
+
+Then, having offered libation on the altars of weather, politics, and
+cricket, the baronet felt himself at liberty to touch on business
+matters.
+
+"Have you heard when Clifford will be back?" he asked.
+
+"Let me see. To-day's the 26th. I expect him not later than May 3rd.
+Probably sooner."
+
+"Everything going smooth?"
+
+"Yes; fine. I'm glad we delayed the issue until May. Canada's getting
+well in the public eye just now. When the leaves spread out on the
+park-trees, town-dwellers begin to remember that the country grows
+crops. They recollect that there's 40 million acres of cropland in
+Canada--250 million bushels of wheat to move. They awake to the notion
+that the wheat will need transport to Europe. Yes, early May is the time
+for our Hudson Bay issue--Clifford was right in suggesting the
+postponement."
+
+Olive caught the new drift of conversation between her father and her
+guest, and turned to cut in.
+
+"Olaf would like to see the aviary," she said to her father. "Especially
+the new owl. It's so amusing to look at in the daytime. Will you take
+him round and show him everything?"
+
+The boy jumped up gleefully, and Sir Francis roused himself from his
+easy-chair to obey his daughter's order. He had grown accustomed to
+obeying--experience had shown him it was more comfortable in the long
+run to do as she wished.
+
+"Bring some cake along, and we'll feed the birds," he said to the boy,
+and the two moved off together to the aviary, which lay sheltered under
+the south wall of the house.
+
+When the two were out of earshot, Larssen turned smilingly to Olive, and
+his tone was that of one who finds himself at home again.
+
+"It's good to be back," he said.
+
+Olive did not smile welcome to him, as he expected. There was an
+unlooked-for constraint in her voice as she inquired: "Another cup?"
+
+"Thanks."
+
+She took the cup from him.
+
+"I've missed you," he added.
+
+"I've had a worrying time," began Olive as she poured out tea and cream
+for him.
+
+"Clifford?"
+
+"Ye-es."
+
+Larssen read through the slight hesitancy of her answer. "That means the
+Verney girl, does it?"
+
+"I've seen her."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At Wiesbaden."
+
+"What made you travel to there?"
+
+"She wrote me a letter."
+
+"Which roused your curiosity."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you satisfy yourself?"
+
+"I satisfied myself that so far there's nothing to take hold of between
+her and Clifford."
+
+"If she managed to give you that impression, she must be clever as well
+as attractive."
+
+"I know I'm right.... Though of course they're in love with one another.
+Both admit it."
+
+Olive was ill at ease--a most unusual frame of mind for her. Larssen
+guessed she had some confession to make, and prepared himself for an
+outwardly sympathetic attitude.
+
+"No doubt she's got the hooks into Clifford tight enough," he answered.
+"It'll be merely a question of time. No cause for you to worry. Wait
+quietly. Have them watched."
+
+"I intend to do nothing of the kind!" said Olive sharply.
+
+Larssen at once adjusted himself to her mood. "Well, that's as you
+please. The affair is yours and not mine. I don't doubt you have good
+reasons."
+
+Olive played nervously with a spoon. "I've decided to drop the matter."
+
+"Which?"
+
+"Divorce."
+
+Larssen had the sudden feeling that during his absence in the States the
+reins had slipped from his hands. He would have to play very warily for
+their recovery.
+
+"No doubt you're right," he answered tacitly, inviting explanation.
+
+"I want my husband back."
+
+"Very natural."
+
+"I want you to get him back for me."
+
+"That's a large order. I don't know the circumstances yet."
+
+"There's nothing much to tell. I saw this Miss Verney and I saw
+Clifford, and I've changed my mind--that's all."
+
+"What did she say to you."
+
+"She tried to make me believe that she wanted a divorce and would let
+the suit go undefended."
+
+"Bluff?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You saw through it at once?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then what's made you switch?"
+
+"Why shouldn't I change my mind?" countered Olive coldly.
+
+Larssen summed her up now with pin-point accuracy. Jealousy had worked
+this transformation. She wanted her husband because the other woman
+wanted him. And he, Larssen, was dependent on Olive's whims! The
+flotation of his Hudson Bay scheme hinging on her momentary fancies!
+
+The fighting instinct surged up within him. He could look for no help
+from Olive--it was to be a single-handed battle with Clifford Matheson.
+Well, he'd give no quarter to anyone--man or woman!
+
+Aloud he said, with a perfect assumption of resignation: "What do you
+wish me to do?"
+
+"I don't know. I want you to suggest."
+
+"I suppose Sir Francis knows all about everything?"
+
+"No; I've told him nothing. He still believes Clifford went to Canada."
+
+"That simplifies matters."
+
+"How?"
+
+"I've got the glimmering of a plan. Let me work out details before I put
+it before you for the O.K.... As I see the problem, it's this. You want
+Clifford to cut loose from Miss Verney. You want him to return to you.
+You want me to use that signature to my Hudson Bay prospectus to induce
+him to return."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You're making a mistake."
+
+"In what?"
+
+"Never try to force a man's feelings in such a matter. Get him to
+persuade himself. Let him return of his own free will or not at all. Now
+my plan, if it works out right, will do that."
+
+"What _is_ the plan?"
+
+"Give me time to get details settled. Is Clifford in London?"
+
+"I don't know where he is."
+
+"I suppose I could get his address through Miss Verney?"
+
+"No doubt."
+
+"Where is she in Wiesbaden?"
+
+"With Dr Hegelmann."
+
+"Just one more question: are you a good sailor?"
+
+"Yes; but why? What a curious question!"
+
+Larssen smiled at her reassuringly. "You'll have to trust me a little.
+Naturally I want my Hudson Bay scheme to go through smoothly, and if at
+the same time I can bring husband and wife together, why, it'll be the
+best day's work done in my life! It'll make me feel good all over!"
+
+"Thanks; that's kind of you!" returned Olive, thawed by the cordial ring
+of his words.
+
+"No need for thanks--wait till I've worked the _deus ex machina_
+stunt.... What do you think of my boy?"
+
+"A dear little fellow! But he needs care."
+
+"He looks weak now, but that's the after-effect of the illness. He'll
+put on muscle presently. He'll be a match for any boy of his age in six
+months' time."
+
+"I hope so."
+
+"Sure. Let's come and join them at the aviary."
+
+They rose and walked to the house, chatting of impersonal matters, and
+nothing affecting the Hudson Bay scheme passed between Larssen and Olive
+or Sir Francis until the moment of leaving.
+
+The baronet was at the door of the motor, seeing his guests depart, when
+Larssen said in a low voice:
+
+"Important matter to see you about. Could you come to the office?"
+
+"When?"
+
+"To-night?"
+
+"To-night I'm due at the banquet to the Australian Team."
+
+"Couldn't you come on afterwards? I shall be at the office till
+midnight. It's about the Hudson Bay deal."
+
+"Very well--I'll come about eleven."
+
+"Right! I'll expect you."
+
+As they drove home in the car, Larssen said to his boy:
+
+"Tell me your impressions."
+
+"I think the garden is fine, and the birds are bully little fellows."
+
+"Mrs Matheson--do you like her?"
+
+"Is she----Is she the lady you meant when you said on board ship you
+were going to marry someone?"
+
+"I want to know what you think of her."
+
+A troubled look came into Olaf's sensitive eyes. "I don't like her very
+much, Dad."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I don't think she means what she says."
+
+"You're mistaken. Mrs Matheson has taken a great liking to you, and I
+want you to be very nice to her. You must meet her again and get better
+acquainted. Now see here, I'd like you to invite her on your yacht.
+That's the big test, isn't it?"
+
+Olaf's eyes brightened at the mention of the yacht. "Very well, Dad," he
+answered. "If you want me to, of course, I'll try and be nice to her."
+
+"I'll send you down to Southampton Water with Dean, and from the yacht I
+want you to write a letter to Mrs Matheson. I'll give you the gist of
+what to say, and you'll put it in your own words."
+
+"Are you going to marry Mrs Matheson, Dad?"
+
+"Not if you don't like her after better acquaintance. I promise you
+that."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+THE NEW SCHEME
+
+
+Larssen had spoken part truth when he told Olive over the tea-table that
+he had the glimmering of a plan in his mind. But its object was by no
+means what he had led her to believe. It was a scheme of an audacity in
+keeping with his previous impersonations of the "dead" Clifford
+Matheson, and its single objective was the attainment of his personal
+ambitions. Even his own son was to be used to help in the gaining of
+that one end.
+
+The new scheme, in its essential, held the simplicity of genius. He
+would, single-handed, float the Hudson Bay company with Matheson's name
+at the head of the prospectus, whether Matheson assented or not.
+
+The first move was to evade the spirit of his own written compact:
+"Until May 3rd, I fix up nothing with the underwriters." To get round
+this obstacle, he decided on the audacious plan of underwriting the
+entire issue _himself_. That is to say, he would give an absolute
+guarantee that if any portion of the five million pounds were not
+subscribed for by the general public, he himself would pay cash for and
+take up those shares. It was a huge risk. In the ordinary course of
+business no single finance house in London, the world's financial
+centre, would take on its shoulders the guaranteeing of a five million
+pound issue. Lars Larssen proposed to do it. In order to provide the
+requisite security, he would have to mortgage his ships and his private
+investments. He would be dicing with nine-tenths of his entire fortune.
+
+The second move was to prevent interference, while the issue was being
+offered to the public, from those who knew anything of the inner history
+of the flotation--Matheson, Olive, Elaine, and Dean. Arthur Dean could
+easily be kept out of the way. Elaine would no doubt be still confined
+to the surgical home at Wiesbaden. Matheson and his wife were problems
+of much more difficulty. In whatever part of Europe Matheson might be,
+he would be certain to hear of the flotation. The point was to delay his
+knowledge of it for two or three days. After that, interference on his
+part could not undo what had been done. "One cannot unscramble an egg."
+
+For the success of the first move, it was essential to have the willing
+co-operation of Sir Francis. Consequently Larssen was particularly
+cordial and gracious to him that evening at the Leadenhall Street
+offices, passing him compliments about his business abilities, which
+found their mark unerringly.
+
+Presently the shipowner got down to the crux of the matter, taking out
+the draft prospectus from the drawer in his desk and smoothing it out to
+show the signature of Clifford Matheson.
+
+"As you see, I sent it to Clifford to O.K.," he said.
+
+Sir Francis looked at the signature through his pair of business
+eyeglasses, and nodded an official confirmation.
+
+Larssen continued: "There's no alteration necessary--Clifford passes it
+as it stands. But I've thought of one point which I reckon would add
+very considerable weight in its appeal to the public."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"The underwriting. There are a few blank lines here"--he turned over to
+a page of small type--"where the details of the underwriting
+arrangements were to be filled in. We were negotiating on a 4 per cent.
+basis, you remember. On some of it we should have had to offer an
+overriding commission of another 1 per cent. Say 4-1/2 per cent. on the
+average--that's L225,000 on the round five million shares. A big sum for
+the company to pay out!"
+
+"I don't see how we can avoid it."
+
+"We might cut it out altogether and state that 'No part of this issue
+has been underwritten.' That sounds like confidence on our part."
+
+Sir Francis shook his head emphatically. "It might do in the States, but
+it won't do over here. Our public wouldn't like it. It's not the thing."
+
+Larssen knew this latter was an overwhelming reason to the baronet's
+mind.
+
+"Very well; pass that suggestion," said he. "Here's a far better one.
+Suppose we could get the underwriting done at 3 per cent. straight. That
+would save the company L75,000."
+
+"What house would take it on at that?"
+
+"_I_ would."
+
+"_You!_" exclaimed the amazed Sir Francis.
+
+"Why not?" quietly replied the shipowner.
+
+"But----!" The baronet paused in perplexity.
+
+"Well, what's the particular 'but'?"
+
+"We--the company--would have to ask you for the fullest security."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Security up to the whole five million pounds."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"But----But I don't quite see your reason for the suggestion."
+
+"My reason is just this," answered Larssen earnestly. "I want that
+prospectus to breathe out confidence in every line and every word. I
+want the whole five millions taken up by the public, and not left partly
+on the underwriters' shoulders. I want to do everything I can to make
+the public realise that they're being offered the squarest deal that
+ever was. What better plan could you have than getting the
+vendor--myself--to guarantee the whole issue at a mere 3 per cent.
+cover? No financial house of any standing would look at it for a trifle
+of 3 per cent. But I stand in and take the whole risk--the whole five
+million risk--and give you securities on my ships that bears looking
+into with a microscope."
+
+Sir Francis gasped his admiration of the daring offer.
+
+"That's pluck!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Well, what do you say? Are you agreeable, for one?"
+
+"Certainly--certainly!"
+
+"Then will you bring St Aubyn and Carleton-Wingate here, and get their
+consent? Say to-morrow morning?"
+
+"That's very short notice."
+
+"You can get them on the telephone. If they're here to-morrow morning
+and consent--there ought to be no difficulty about that--you three
+Directors can sick the lawyers on to me at once and fix up the security
+deeds in a day or so."
+
+"You ought to have been born an Englishman!" said the baronet
+admiringly.
+
+"One point occurs to me. Let's keep this matter close until the
+prospectus is actually launched. I don't want any Stock Exchange
+'wreckers!' trying to stick a knife into my back. You know some of their
+tricks?"
+
+"Certainly--certainly!"
+
+"I don't think I'd even mention it to your daughter. Women--even the
+best of them--can't help talking."
+
+"Women are not meant for business," agreed the baronet sententiously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+LARSSEN'S APPEAL
+
+
+In pursuance of his second move, Larssen had to see Miss Verney. To
+write to her would probably be fruitless waste of time; and it was
+emphatically not the kind of interview to delegate to a subordinate. He
+had to seek her in person.
+
+It was curious to reflect that, in this tangle of four lives, the
+balance of power had shifted successively from one to the other. At
+first it was with Matheson. A letter of his had brought the shipowner
+hastening to Paris to see him. Later, it was Larssen who sat still and
+Matheson who hurried to find him. Later again, it was Olive who held
+decision between the two men. And now Elaine.
+
+As soon as he had settled the underwriting affair with Sir Francis and
+his two co-Directors, Larssen went straight to Wiesbaden to the surgical
+home, and had his card sent in to Elaine.
+
+Elaine received him in the garden of the home, under the soft shade of a
+spreading linden, where she had been chatting with another patient. Near
+by, a laburnum drooped in shower of gold over a bush of delicate white
+guelder-rose as Zeus over Danae. Upon the wall of the home wistaria hung
+her pastel-shaded pendants of flower, like the notes of some beautiful
+melody, sweet and sad, along the giant staves of her stem. A Chopin
+could have harmonized the melody, weaving in little trills and silvery
+treble notes from the joy-song of the nesting birds.
+
+The bandages had been removed from the patient's eyes, and she wore a
+pair of wide dark glasses side-curtained from the light.
+
+After a few conventional words of greeting and inquiry, Larssen drew up
+a chair beside hers. "You're wondering why I've called on you," he
+began. "You're thinking that a stranger--and a busy man at
+that--wouldn't have travelled to Wiesbaden merely to inquire after you.
+You're thinking that I want something."
+
+"What is it you want from me?" asked Elaine with frank directness.
+
+"I want your help," returned Larssen with an assumption of equal
+frankness.
+
+"My help! For what?"
+
+"For Matheson."
+
+"And what is this help you want from me?"
+
+"It's simple enough, but first let me spread out the situation as I see
+it. If I'm wrong, you'll correct me.... To begin with, Matheson is a man
+of complex character and high ideals. The latter have been snowed under
+in his business career. He's like an Alpine peak. From the distance, it
+looks cold and aloof, but underneath there's a carpet of blue gentian
+waiting to spring out into blossom when the sun melts off the
+snow-layer. I don't pay idle compliments when I say that I haven't far
+to look for the sun that's melting off the snow."
+
+He paused.
+
+Elaine remained silent, but Larssen's vivid metaphor went home to her.
+
+"I used to admire Matheson as a financier," pursued the shipowner. "Now
+I respect him as a man. He's put up the fists to me over what he
+believes to be his duty to the British public, and I like him all the
+better for it."
+
+"You threatened Mr Matheson that you would have me dragged into a
+divorce court if he didn't sign agreement to your prospectus."
+
+It was a definite statement and not a question, and from it Larssen
+judged that the financier had told her everything from start to finish.
+
+"I did, and there's where my mistake lay. One mustn't threaten a man of
+Matheson's calibre. Please understand this, Miss Verney, all question of
+divorce is dead."
+
+"It would make no difference to me."
+
+"It was fine of you to say so to Mrs Matheson. You've pluck."
+
+"Then you've been talking matters over with Mrs Matheson?"
+
+"Certainly. I want to arrive at a final settlement for all of us."
+
+"How?"
+
+"That's where I want your help. First let me complete my lay-out of the
+situation.... Matheson is a man of high ideals. But he tangled up his
+life pretty badly on the night of March 14th, when he tried to cut loose
+from his old career. It was a mistake. We've both made mistakes, he and
+I. The unfortunate part is that the consequences don't fall on us. They
+fall on Mrs Matheson and yourself. You note that I place Mrs Matheson
+before yourself? That's deliberate."
+
+Again he paused, but Elaine did not make any comment. She guessed now
+what Larssen had come to say to her, and a shiver of fear went through
+her. Not fear of Larssen as a man, but as a spokesman for Fate. In the
+deliberate unfolding of his statement, there was the passionless gravity
+of Fate.
+
+Guessing her thoughts, Larssen's voice deepened as he continued: "I
+definitely place Mrs Matheson before yourself. She is his wife. He
+married her for better or worse. However mistaken he may have been in
+his estimate of her, he must keep to his promise of the altar-side. She
+is his wife. As a man of honour, Matheson's first duty is to stand by
+his wife. I don't want to wound your feelings, believe me. But I have to
+say this: you must realise Mrs Matheson's point of view."
+
+"I think I do."
+
+"Do you realise that she is eating her heart out in loneliness?"
+
+"I didn't know."
+
+"I do know. I went to see her a couple of days ago at Thornton Chase.
+The change in her these last few weeks startled me. I deliberately say
+this: you have, unknowingly, dealt her a blow from which she will never
+recover. She is naturally far from strong, and though I'm not a doctor,
+I venture to make this prophecy: within three years, Mrs Matheson will
+be dead."
+
+A low cry of expostulation came from Elaine.
+
+"It's an ugly, brutal fact," pursued Larssen, pressing home his
+advantage to the fullest extent. Now that he had probed for and reached
+the raw nerve of feeling, he intended to keep it tight gripped in the
+forceps of his words. "It's brutal, but it's true. Unwittingly, you have
+shortened her life."
+
+"I've sent Mr Matheson away," faltered Elaine.
+
+"I guessed that. But will he stay away from you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I doubt it."
+
+"We've said good-bye!"
+
+"But he writes to you?"
+
+There was an answer in her silence.
+
+"He writes to you. That means a great deal--a very great deal."
+
+"What do you want from me?" cried the tortured girl.
+
+"Reparation," was the grave answer.
+
+"To----?"
+
+"To Mrs Matheson--to his wife."
+
+"What more can I do than I have done?"
+
+"Doesn't your heart tell you?"
+
+"I'm torn with----"
+
+"With love for him. I know. I know. I'm asking from you the biggest
+sacrifice of all--for his sake and for her sake. While she lives, give
+her back what happiness you can," Larssen's voice had lowered almost to
+a whisper.
+
+"What more can I do than I have done?"
+
+"Much more. Write to Matheson definitely and finally. Send him back to
+his wife. She is to cruise on board the 'Starlight'--a yacht of
+mine--with my little son. Send Matheson to meet her on the yacht."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then they will come together again. I'm certain of it. I've seen Mrs
+Matheson and read the change in her feelings. She'll be a different
+woman now.... Can you see to write?"
+
+"Yes--faintly."
+
+"Then write to Matheson what your heart will dictate to you," said
+Larssen gently.
+
+Presently he resumed: "Where is he now?"
+
+"At Nimes."
+
+"Ah, yes--the trial."
+
+"It should be finished to-day."
+
+"Then Matheson will probably be returning to London to see me. There's
+no need for him to hurry back. He could board the 'Starlight' at
+Boulogne or any other port he might prefer."
+
+"Isn't May 3rd the day that ends your agreement?" asked Elaine.
+
+"It is; but I'll extend that date." Larssen took from his pockets a
+fountain-pen and a scrap of paper and scribbled a few words on it,
+signing his name underneath. "Suppose you enclose this when you're
+writing to Matheson? It extends our agreement until May 20th."
+
+He passed the paper to her.
+
+The power of the human word, of the human voice--how limitless it is!
+Larssen, master of word and voice, had Elaine convinced through and
+through of his sincerity in the matter of reconciling husband and wife.
+He had appealed with unerring judgment to her finest feelings, and she
+read her own altruism into his words.
+
+Larssen knew that his point was won, and long experience had taught him
+to close an interview as soon as he had carried conviction.
+
+"I won't tire you any longer," he said, rising. "I just want to say
+this: you're _big_. You're the finer woman by far, but she is his
+wife."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+ON BOARD THE "STARLIGHT"
+
+
+The trial at Nimes proved a wearisome, sordid affair, and its result was
+a foregone conclusion. If there had been some motive of romantic
+jealousy on the part of the youth Crau, a French jury might have
+returned a sentimental verdict of acquittal. As it was, they found him
+guilty, and the judge sentenced him to three years penal servitude.
+
+Riviere was heartily glad when the trial was over. It was now the end of
+April--close to the date of May 3rd, when the truce between Larssen and
+himself would expire. The shipowner would be back in London, and no
+doubt would have heard from Olive something of the changed situation.
+Force of circumstance would make him readjust his attitude, and he would
+probably be ready to offer compromise.
+
+Riviere judged it advisable to return to England, and there to wait for
+overtures on the part of Larssen. He had taken ticket for London, and
+was preparing for travel, when two letters reached him, from Olive and
+Elaine.
+
+The latter gave him a keen thrill of pleasure. It was written by Elaine
+herself, and this was proof indeed of the miracle of surgery wrought by
+Dr Hegelmann. But its contents made him very thoughtful. She was asking
+him to go back to his wife. She was pointing out to him a path of duty
+exceedingly hard to tread.
+
+Olive's letter added further pressure on his feelings. She was advised
+to try a sea-voyage for her health, she told him; Larssen had placed his
+yacht at her disposal; she begged her husband to meet her at Boulogne
+and once more to give her a chance to explain. It was an appeal utterly
+different to the attitude she had taken at Wiesbaden--there was now a
+sincerity in it which Riviere could not mistake.
+
+The enclosure in Elaine's letter did not surprise him. If Larssen of his
+own accord offered to extend the truce until May 20th, it must mean that
+the shipowner was aware of his shaky position and ready to suggest
+compromise.
+
+The effect of those three communications on Riviere's mind was what
+Larssen had so shrewdly planned. Riviere wired to his wife that he would
+meet her at Boulogne Harbour.
+
+That evening he caught a Paris express with a through P.L.M. carriage
+for Boulogne. At the Gare de Lyon, in the early morning, they shunted
+him round the slow and tedious Girdle Railway to the Gare du Nord,
+clanked him on the boat train, and sped him northwards again in a
+revigorated burst of railway energy. North of Paris, a P.L.M. carriage
+undergoes a marked change of character. It deferentially subdues its
+nationality, and takes on an Anglo-American aspect. Harris-tweeded young
+men pitch golf-bags and ice-axes on the rack, and smoke bulldog pipes
+in its corridors with an air of easy proprietorship. American spinsters,
+scouring Europe in couples, order lunch in high-pitched American without
+troubling to translate. The few Frenchmen who find themselves in the
+train have almost the apologetic air of intruders.
+
+While passing through the corridor of a second-class carriage, Riviere
+happened on the tubby little figure and rosy smiling countenance of
+Jimmy Martin the journalist. Martin never forgot a face or a name--it
+was part of his profession to make an unlimited acquaintanceship with
+everyone who might possibly "have a story to tell."
+
+"Hail, sir!" said he cheerily. "You haven't forgotten the little sermon
+I had to preach to you on the infallibility of my owners, the _Europe
+Chronicle_?"
+
+Riviere shook hands cordially. "I remember perfectly. You're going home
+on holiday, I expect?"
+
+"I'm going home for good, praise be. I've sacked my owners. I told them
+that they were a set of unmitigated liars, scoundrels and bloodsuckers,
+and that I couldn't reconcile it with my conscience to work for them any
+longer without a 20 per cent. increase in pay. They demurred, and I
+promptly sacked them--having in my pocket an offer from a London paper.
+Thus we combine valour with prudence--a mixture which is more
+colloquially known as 'business.'"
+
+"What's your new post?"
+
+"Reporter for the _London Daily Truth_. If you've a story to tell at
+any time, and want a platform to speak from, 'phone me up."
+
+"Thanks; I will."
+
+"I've been turning my think-tank on to the Hudson Bay Transport
+flotation. You certainly had some inside information on that deal. Why
+did it shut up with a snap, I ask myself. Who banged the lid down?"
+
+Martin's effort to pump information was very transparent, but his
+infectious good humour made it impossible to take offence.
+
+Riviere was a keen judge of men, and he felt instinctive confidence in
+the honesty of the whimsical little journalist. One could trust this
+man. There was nobody within hearing along the corridor of the railway
+carriage. Accordingly he answered:
+
+"If you'll keep the information strictly to yourself until I want
+publication, I'll tell you."
+
+Martin sobered instantly. "Mr Riviere," said he, "you can trust me
+absolutely. I play square."
+
+"So I judge.... You ask me who banged the lid down. I did."
+
+"Phew! You must have landed Larssen a hefty one on the solar plexus."
+
+"The matter is not finally settled yet. It's just possible that I might
+need the platform you offered me. Then I'll talk further."
+
+"Exclusive?" asked Martin, with the journalist part of him on top.
+
+"I can't promise that. It depends."
+
+"Well, first call at any rate. We might get out a special edition in
+front of the other fellows. We've started a new evening paper at the
+_Daily Truth_ office, and I'd like to secure a scoop for one of the
+two.... My stars, if I could have seen the scrap between you and
+Larssen! There must have been some juicy copy in that!"
+
+"No doubt," commented Riviere drily. "Well, I'll say good-bye now."
+
+"Anyhow, thanks for your promise. I'll look forward to the next meeting.
+_Au revoir_, as they say in this whisker-ridden country."
+
+Boulogne harbour was crowded with grimy tramp steamers, fishing boats,
+and a rabble of plebeian harbour craft, but the yacht "Starlight" was
+not in view. Riviere inquired at the office of the harbour-master, and
+was informed that a telegram promised the yacht's arrival by nightfall.
+
+She arrived true to promise, and lay out beyond the twin piers of the
+harbour-mouth in the quiet of sunset of the evening of April 30th--a
+trim-lined, quietly capable, three-masted craft. Larssen had referred to
+her as a "small cruising yacht," but in reality the "Starlight" was much
+more than that casual description would convey. In addition to her
+extensive sailing power, she had a set of marine oil engines for use in
+light winds or special emergency, and her cabins and saloons were roomy
+and comfortable. She could carry a party of a dozen passengers with
+comfort if there were need, and had four life-boats as well as a shore
+dinghy. The kitchen equipment was admirable. Altogether, a trim,
+well-found yacht which might have voyaged round the world without
+mishap.
+
+The dinghy was sent off with the mate and a couple of seamen, and
+entered the harbour to enquire for Riviere at the harbour-master's
+office, according to arrangement.
+
+"Pleased to meet you, sir," said the mate. "Mrs Matheson's compliments,
+and will you come aboard?"
+
+"Is Mr Larssen on the yacht?"
+
+"No. Mrs Matheson, her maid, and Master Olaf--that's all. We're giving
+the little chap a training in seamanship.... Jim, take the gentleman's
+luggage."
+
+They rowed out to the "Starlight," lying trimly at anchor like a
+capable, self-possessed hostess awaiting the arrival of a week-end guest
+at a country-house. Olive waved greeting to her husband as he came near.
+By her side was Larssen's little son, holding her hand. He might have
+almost been posed there by the shipowner to inspire confidence in the
+peaceful intentions of the yachting cruise.
+
+Olive thoroughly believed that Larssen's sole object in placing the
+yacht at her disposal was to reconcile husband and wife, and so
+indirectly to smooth over the quarrel between himself and Clifford. She
+had no suspicion that his real objective was to get Matheson on the high
+seas, the only region where he could not hear of the coming flotation of
+the Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd. Larssen had told her that she was free to
+order the yacht's movements as she pleased--he merely suggested in a
+perfectly casual way that a cruise to the Norwegian fjords might prove
+enjoyable.
+
+"It was good of you to come!" said Olive as her husband mounted the
+gangway to the white-railed deck. There was unmistakable sincerity in
+her greeting.
+
+"I'm to be captain of the 'Starlight' as soon as I get my skipper's
+ticket," confided the little boy as he shook hands.
+
+Matheson had made up his mind to carry out Elaine's wish. He had come
+back to his wife; and he was prepared to fall in with any plan that she
+might propose. Accordingly, when she suggested the alternatives of a
+cruise down the Channel and up to the Hebrides, or a cruise to Norway,
+he left the decision to her. She chose Norway. Matheson, with the
+shipowner's agreement in his pocket to extend their truce to May 20th,
+raised no objection. There was ample time to be back in England before
+that date.
+
+Olive gave her orders to the captain. Before weighing anchor, the latter
+sent on shore for further provisions. At the same time he dispatched a
+telegram to Larssen stating that they were bound for Norway that
+evening.
+
+A smooth deft dinner was served to Matheson and his wife in the
+comfortable saloon as the yacht weighed anchor, slung round to a light
+wind from the south-east, and made gently towards the outer edge of the
+Goodwins. Through the starboard portholes Wimereux Plage twinkled gaily
+to them from its string of lights on esplanade and summer villas; Cap
+Grisnez flashed its calm white light of guardianship; Calais town sent a
+message of kindly greeting from the far distance; only the Varne Sands
+whispered a wordless warning as they swirled the waters above them and
+sent a flock of shivering wavelets to beat against the smooth hull of
+the "Starlight."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On that night of April 30th, while Clifford Matheson slept on board the
+yacht, the presses of Fleet Street thundered off millions of newspapers
+which bore on their financial page the impressive prospectus of Hudson
+Bay Transport, Ltd. The post bore off to every town and village in the
+United Kingdom hundreds of thousands of copies of the issue in its full
+legal detail.
+
+Heading the prospectus were these names on the Board of Directors:--
+
+Clifford Matheson, Esq. (Chairman).
+The Right Hon. Lord St Aubyn, P.C., K.C.V.O.
+Sir Francis Letchmere, Bart.
+Gervase Lowndes Hawley Carleton-Wingate, Esq., M.P.
+Lars Larssen, Esq. (Managing Director). To join the Board after allotment.
+
+The capital was divided into 5,000,000 Ordinary L1 Shares, and 4,000,000
+Deferred Shares of 1s. The latter were assigned to the vendor, Lars
+Larssen, in payment for various considerations. He had also underwritten
+the entire issue of Ordinary Shares for a commission of 3 per cent. The
+lists for subscription were to open on May 1st and close at midday on
+May 3rd. The London and United Kingdom Bank, in which Lord St. Aubyn was
+a Director, was receiving subscriptions and carrying out the routine of
+issuing allotment letters.
+
+Such in essence was the prospectus of Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd. It
+embodied every point that Larssen aimed for. It was entirely legal,
+since Matheson had O.K.'d a copy of the prospectus, and the further
+agreement between the two men had been technically evaded by the fact of
+Larssen underwriting the entire issue himself.
+
+By the time the "Starlight" reached Norway, the subscription lists would
+be closed and Matheson would be impotent to veto the issue. If he were
+three days on the high seas between France and Norway, Larssen would
+have gained the control of Britain's wheat-supply.
+
+And Matheson had no knowledge of the daring game that his adversary was
+venturing. Not even a suspicion of it. In his pocket was the shipowner's
+agreement to extend their truce to May 20th. His mind was at rest
+regarding the Hudson Bay Scheme.
+
+His thoughts were now centred on Olive and the strange _volte face_ in
+her feelings towards him. The change in her was scarcely understandable.
+Yet it was entirely a normal outcome of her essential character. Olive
+had never appreciated Clifford's value to herself until that day at
+Wiesbaden when she had realised his value to the woman who was ready to
+sacrifice her reputation and her happiness in order to free his hands.
+The torrent of bitter words she had poured on Elaine was the reflex
+action of that sudden realisation. It was born of uncontrollable
+jealousy.
+
+Now she wanted to win Clifford back. It was not sufficient that he had
+returned to her side. She wanted his regard, his esteem, his affection,
+his love. She wanted a child by him to bind them together. The
+tenderness with which she was looking after Larssen's little son was an
+outward expression of that inner hope. It was a prophecy of the future.
+Olaf stood for what might be. If she should have a child of her own, she
+felt convinced that Clifford would remain with her.
+
+Those feelings were now the focus of Olive's thoughts. The sincerity of
+her greeting to Clifford was not an assumed emotion. It was inner-real.
+And yet it might not last for long. The effect of her drug-taking was to
+make every momentary feeling seem an eternal, ineradicable mainspring of
+action. Her many moods were each at the moment vitally important to her.
+They obsessed her. The morphia had not only undermined her physical
+health, but had made her mind the prey of every passing emotion.
+
+For his part, Matheson was trying to weigh up the essential value of
+this sudden change in his wife. He admitted the sincerity; he doubted
+the permanency. He realised that she ardently desired a child of her
+own--that was plain to read from her attitude towards Larssen's son. But
+in the past she had always been impatient with children, and he
+questioned whether her present feeling was more than transitory.
+
+The morning of May 1st brought grey sky, grey waters, and a tumbling
+sea. The yacht was beating north-east, close-hauled, into a stiff breeze
+from eastwards. No land was in sight--only a few trawler sails and a
+squat, ugly tramp steamer flinging a pennant of black smoke to
+westwards. As the day wore on the wind rose steadily, and in the
+afternoon the watch turned out to reef sails. Matheson was an excellent
+sailor, and this tussle with the elements exhilarated him. Olive, too,
+was quite at home on board a yacht, and the two marched the decks
+together in keen enjoyment of the bite of the wind and the whip of the
+salt spray.
+
+By nightfall the wind had increased to a half-gale but the "Starlight"
+rode through the sea in splendid defiance, sure of her staunchness and
+steady in her purpose.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In this fight for the control of Britain's wheat-supply, Larssen had
+played to the highest his powers of intellect, his foresight, and his
+ruthless determination. He had forced the signature of Clifford Matheson
+to the draft prospectus, thus sanctioning its issue. He had evaded by
+one daring stroke the spirit of his own signed agreement. He had most
+carefully and minutely arranged for the flotation of the company at the
+time when Matheson would be on the high seas and out of touch with
+London news.
+
+The "Starlight" was a well-found yacht, capable of weathering any North
+Sea gale. She had oil-engines to supplement her sailing power. She was
+provisioned for a month. Rough weather would not drive her back to
+harbour. She could fight through any wind or sea to Norway. Nothing had
+been overlooked to carry Larssen's scheme to perfect success.
+
+Save only the hand of Providence.... Fate....
+
+For such a man as Lars Larssen there is no other antagonist he need
+fear.
+
+But Fate, with its little finger, can squeeze him to nothingness.
+
+Out in the North Sea, wallowing sullenly in the trough of the waves, her
+masts gone by the board and her deck awash, lay the derelict schooner
+"Valkyrie" of Bergen. She would have been at the bottom of the sea had
+it not been for her cargo of Norway pine, keeping her painfully afloat
+against her will. Fate, with its little finger, moved this uncharted
+peril right in the track of the "Starlight," beating close-reefed
+through the buffeting waves on the night of May 1st, while Larssen, in
+his London home, satisfied that his plans had foreseen every human
+eventuality, slept the easy sleep of the successful.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+INTERVENTION
+
+
+The "Starlight" struck the sodden derelict shortly before midnight, with
+a crash that jarred the yacht to her innermost fibres.
+
+She struck it full abeam, like a motor-car smashing in the dark into an
+unlighted farm-waggon drawn across a country lane. Bows crumpled up;
+bowsprit snapped away; foremast, loosed from its stay, and forced back
+by the pressure of a half-gale on the close-hauled foresail, carried
+over to port in a tangle of rope and wire and canvas.
+
+Thrown back on her haunches, the "Starlight" gasped and shivered and
+began to settle by the head from the rush of water into the forecastle.
+
+"All on deck with lifebelts!"
+
+A seaman rushed through the saloons, throwing wide the cabin doors, and
+shouting the captain's order.
+
+Up above, men were ripping the canvas covers off the life-boats,
+flinging oilskins and rugs and provisions into them, slewing round the
+davits, hauling on the fall-ropes--a furious medley of energies.
+
+Matheson rushed to his wife's cabin, helped her on with some clothes,
+tied her lifebelt, wrapped a rug around her, and hurried her on deck.
+
+"What have we hit?" he snapped at the captain.
+
+"Derelict."
+
+"How long d'you give her?"
+
+"Ten minutes at the outside!" flung back the captain, and then into his
+megaphone: "Lower away there with No. 4!"
+
+Lifeboat No. 4 was the second boat on the port side--the leeward side.
+No. 3 was buried under the tangle of wreckage from the collapse of the
+foremast, and therefore useless. The boat was already in the water, with
+the mate and four seamen aboard, when Matheson, who had hurried below,
+came again on deck with Olaf in his arms. Behind him panted the
+stewardess and Olive's maid, terrified and clutching some worthless
+finery of hers.
+
+"Women and children to No. 4!" shouted the captain.
+
+"I won't go without you!" cried Olive to her husband, clinging tight to
+him.
+
+The captain wasted no precious moments on argument. He thrust the
+stewardess and the trembling maid before him, and stout arms bundled
+them down to the plunging boat. Then he passed down the little boy.
+
+"Is there room for all of us?" cried Olive.
+
+"No!"
+
+The mate cast off, and lifeboat No. 4 disappeared into the black night.
+
+"Haul on the main and mizzen sheets!" ordered the captain, to bring the
+yacht round and get a leeward launch for Nos. 1 and 2.
+
+Presently the two crackling sails gybed over with a thud, and the
+"Starlight" lay on the starboard tack, head down and filling rapidly.
+
+"Hurry like hell!" shouted the captain.
+
+Into No. 1, with the boatswain in charge and four seamen, went Olive and
+her husband and the cook; and into No. 2 crowded the carpenter, the two
+stewards, and the rest of the crew. For the captain was left the frail
+dinghy, slung from the stern. True to the tradition of the sea, he had
+refused a place in any of the lifeboats.
+
+Lifeboat No. 2 got away first of the two. It was being tossed dizzily
+amongst the inky combers twenty yards distant, the men rowing feverishly
+to get clear of the yacht before she sank and sucked them under. But
+with No. 1 there was some hitch. The boatswain had unshackled the
+fall-ropes aft, and the boat slewed off with the jerk of a heavy wave.
+
+"Clear away there forward, blast you!"
+
+Two seamen were tugging at the fall-block. Something had fouled. The
+"Starlight" was rearing head stern up; her shattered bows were already
+under the waves; her life was now a matter of seconds only.
+
+"Cut the ropes, you blasted idiots!"
+
+Before the two men could get their knives through the tough rope, the
+"Starlight" reared like a bucking mare and plunged to her grave,
+dragging with her lifeboat No. 1 and its eight occupants.
+
+"Jump for it!" yelled the boatswain.
+
+Matheson, one foot caught under a seat, was dragged down and down until
+his heart hammered like a piston and his lungs were bursting with the
+fierce effort to hold his breath.
+
+To the drowning man there comes a moment when he perforce gives up the
+fight and abandons himself to the blessed peace of unconsciousness, like
+a wanderer in a snowstorm lying down to rest. That moment had come to
+Matheson, when suddenly the half-severed rope that shackled the lifeboat
+to the doomed yacht gave way, and with a mutinous jerk the boat rushed
+itself to the surface, bottom upwards, flinging Matheson clear.
+
+His craving lungs opened to the free air; he lay back on his cork-jacket
+gulping it in greedily as the whirlpool formed by the sinking yacht
+carried him round and round in dizzy circles.
+
+The moments of recuperation past, his first thought was for his wife. He
+caught sight of a shapeless something at the further side of the
+whirlpool, and with all his strength beat round towards it. It was
+Olive, clinging to an oar.
+
+He reached her; shouted some words of hope above the roar of the wind;
+searched around the blackness of the night for a place of safety. Thirty
+yards away, tossed upwards on a giant wave as though in signal to them,
+there showed for a brief moment the silhouette of an upturned boat, with
+two men clinging to it.
+
+"Our boat--over there!" he cried to Olive, and clutching her by the arm,
+fought the combers towards the hope of refuge.
+
+Straddled across the upturned lifeboat were the boatswain and a seaman.
+The others had disappeared. On such a night it was impossible to rescue
+them unless by the accident of chance.
+
+Matheson, buffeted and blinded by the thrash of the waves, just managed
+to drag Olive to the boat's side. The boatswain, Fraser by name, lent
+him a hand while he recuperated sufficiently to hoist Olive across the
+keel of the storm-tossed boat.
+
+"Where are the other boats?" he asked of Fraser, when he had recovered
+speech.
+
+The boatswain made a gesture of helplessness. In that inky night, who
+could say where lifeboats No. 2 and 4 might be?
+
+Presently a rocket flung a rain of white stars across the black curtain
+of the sky. It must be from one of their own boats. But it was far away
+across the waters. They shouted with all their might. The wind hurled
+their words away in disdain of the puny effort.
+
+Matheson had pocketed a flask of brandy when the call of all hands on
+deck had sent him tumbling out of his berth. He now poured some of the
+spirit down Olive's throat, and passed the flask on to the men.
+
+"Be sparing with it," he warned.
+
+Then he set to work to make his moaning wife as comfortable as the
+terrible circumstances of their plight would permit. He took off his
+coat and got her into it, binding her cork jacket around. A rope was
+trailing from the stern and he secured this and tied it round her waist,
+giving one end to Fraser to hold and keeping tight hold of the other
+himself.
+
+Very little was said as the endless hours of the night dragged their
+leaden length to a sullen dawn.
+
+"Give me the morphia!" Olive had moaned at intervals, in a delirium of
+fever.
+
+The seaman, who had been the man on watch when the "Starlight" struck
+the unlighted derelict, had cursed intermittently at the cause of the
+disaster. "Why didn't they show a blasted light?" he kept on repeating
+with obstinate illogicality. "Why didn't the fools show a blasted
+light?"
+
+"Old man Larssen will give you hell when we get to shore."
+
+Olive, in her delirium, caught at the words. "I can see the shore!" she
+cried. "Over there--over there! Why don't you row? You want to kill me
+first!"
+
+Matheson tried to soothe her.
+
+"We'll soon be on shore. A boat will pick us up at daybreak."
+
+"Why didn't they show a blasted light?" cursed the seaman.
+
+The sullen dawn uncurtained a waste of slag-coloured, heaving waters.
+The gale had spent its sudden fury, as though its work were now
+accomplished, but the sky was grey and inhospitable. Matheson raised
+himself on his knees on the keel of the boat again and again to search
+around, but no sail or steamer-smoke gave hope of rescue.
+
+It was not until ten o'clock that a trawler came within distance of
+seeing them, but apparently their signals of distress were not noticed,
+for the fishing vessel passed on to its work and disappeared over the
+horizon.
+
+A few fitful gleams of sunlight mocked their shiverings with promise of
+warmth--promise unfulfilled. Their brandy was now exhausted, and some
+ship's biscuits in the boatswain's pocket were sodden and uneatable.
+Thirst began to add to the horrors of the situation. Olive was moaning
+for water, and they had none to give her.
+
+The afternoon was far advanced before a Copenhagen-Hull packet ran
+across them, taking on board three exhausted men and a woman in
+delirium.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+FINALITY
+
+
+At Hull, prepared by wireless, doctors and nurses were waiting for Olive
+when the vessel reached port late at night. As Matheson hurried with the
+ambulance along the quayside, a tubby little figure of a man came up to
+him.
+
+"You remember me--Martin?" he asked. "I'm covering this story for the
+_Daily Truth_."
+
+"Come with me," answered Matheson. "I'll give you the information you
+want presently."
+
+He had first to see Olive safely in hospital. It was all that he could
+do for her. Then he returned to the journalist.
+
+"I suppose that you know that the other two boats were picked up early
+this morning?" said Martin.
+
+"Good! and Larssen's little boy?"
+
+"Quite sound. I made a special interview with him.... By the way, you
+know that the Hudson Bay flotation is going strong on the wing?"
+
+He held out a newspaper folded back to the financial page. A few
+moments' glance was sufficient to tell Matheson all that he needed to
+know--that the issue had been launched in his name on the night of
+April 30th; that to-morrow at twelve o'clock the lists were to be
+closed.
+
+If he were to act at all, he must act now--_at once_. His jaw squared
+and his mouth tightened as he thought out the situation.
+
+Then to the journalist: "We've got to smash this--you and I."
+
+From the wallet in his breast-pocket Matheson took out Larssen's two
+agreements--blurred with sea-water, but now dried and fit for his
+purpose. He handed the agreements to Martin, who whistled surprise as he
+read them.
+
+"He's underwritten it himself," was the latter's comment.
+
+"Yes. That evades his agreement with me.... What's the price of a
+full-page advertisement in your paper?"
+
+"First, what's the idea?" returned the journalist.
+
+Matheson led the way to a hotel near at hand, and on a sheet of hotel
+note-paper wrote these words:--
+
+     "The use of my name on the Hudson Bay prospectus is
+     absolutely unauthorized. I earnestly advise all
+     investors to cancel their applications by wire--at
+     once.
+
+     (Signed) "Clifford Matheson"
+
+"I want that on a full page," he said decisively.
+
+The journalist read the words, and then looked up suspiciously.
+
+"I knew you as a Mr John Riviere," he objected.
+
+"I know, but I'm Clifford Matheson. I'll prove it to you. I'll bring you
+the two survivors from the 'Starlight' to testify."
+
+"That's not much evidence."
+
+"In town I could take you to my bankers, but to-night it's impossible.
+Martin, you've _got_ to believe me! Hear what those two men have to
+say!"
+
+The journalist considered the matter in sober silence.
+
+"An advertisement like this is sheer libel," he answered presently.
+"Larssen could rook you for goodness knows what damages if you got it
+published."
+
+"I know. That goes."
+
+"But my owners wouldn't stand for the damages. They'd be equally liable,
+you know."
+
+"I'll guarantee them up to my last shilling. Get your editor on the
+trunk wire, and find out how much guarantee he'll want me to put up."
+
+Martin looked at him half in admiration and half in doubtfulness.
+
+"It would be a tremendous risk for me to take!"
+
+Matheson looked him square in the eye.
+
+"If you want a scoop that will make your career," he answered slowly,
+"it's here. Waiting for you to pick it up. I promised you first call on
+my news--here it is. Have you the pluck to take your opportunity?"
+
+"Exclusive?" asked Martin, the magic word "scoop" setting him aflame.
+
+"Exclusive," agreed Matheson.
+
+"You'll prove to me that you're Clifford Matheson right enough?"
+
+"Within half an hour. And give you a full interview, explaining my
+reasons for the announcement."
+
+"Well, I'm on!"
+
+Martin had a well-deserved newspaper reputation for accuracy and good
+judgment. On his urgent recommendation, therefore, the managing editor
+of the _Daily Truth_ consented to run Clifford Matheson's full-page
+advertisement and to insert the interview, contingent on his depositing
+with Martin a cheque for L250,000 to indemnify the paper against a
+possible libel action on the part of Lars Larssen.
+
+Matheson also prepared letters to Sir Francis Letchmere, Lord St Aubyn,
+and Carleton-Wingate, giving a statement of his reasons for the
+announcement in the _Daily Truth_ of the next morning, and asking them
+to send telegrams to all those who had made applications for shares. The
+telegram to be sent out was worded:--
+
+"I strongly advise all investors to cancel by wire their applications
+for shares in Hudson Bay Transport. See explanation in Daily Truth of
+May 3rd.--Clifford Matheson."
+
+Martin, who was leaving for London by a midnight train, took charge of
+the three letters and promised to have them safely delivered to the
+three Directors of the company early in the morning.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Two days later, Matheson had to leave his wife in the hands of the
+doctors in order to attend a brief meeting of the Board of Directors of
+Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd.
+
+They were seated in the stately board-room of the London and United
+Kingdom Bank in Lombard Street, at one end of the huge oval table over
+which the affairs of nations are settled. Clifford Matheson was in the
+chair.
+
+The routine business of the meeting had been cleared when a clerk
+announced that Mr Larssen wished to enter. Until the allotments had been
+made by the other four Directors, he had no legal right to sit at the
+board of the company or to take part in any discussion. He now asked
+formal permission to enter, and the Directors formally agreed to receive
+him.
+
+If they thought to find in Lars Larssen a beaten man, they were greatly
+mistaken. He came in with his usual masterful stride, and his eyes met
+theirs surely and squarely.
+
+"I've come to hear what's been fixed between you," he said, and took a
+seat at the table.
+
+Matheson took up a paper from the bundle before him on the table, and
+replied with studied formality: "The applications for shares totalled
+L6,714,000 in round figures. Of these, all but L8200 were cancelled by
+telegram or letter on the morning of May 3rd."
+
+"As a consequence of your advertisement in the newspaper?"
+
+"Yes. The Board decided to proceed to allotment, and we have accordingly
+allotted the applications for 8200 shares. The remainder of the
+5,000,000 ordinary shares will have to be taken up and paid for by
+yourself under the terms of your underwriting agreement."
+
+"I expected that. I'm ready to carry out my bond."
+
+"As you will see," continued Matheson with the same studied formality
+cloaking the irony of his words, "you gain control."
+
+Larssen smiled tolerantly. "That's turned the trick right enough, but
+don't flatter yourself that _you_ did it. If it hadn't been for a sheer
+accident that no man alive could foresee or prevent, I'd have won hands
+down. I haven't been beaten by _you_, and so I don't bear grudge. And
+I've no intention of bringing a libel action to gratify your longing for
+the limelight. I'll just sit tight and let the Hudson Bay scheme flatten
+out to nothing."
+
+He flicked thumb and forefinger together contemptuously. "That Hudson
+Bay scheme was chicken-feed. I've bigger than that up my sleeve. What
+you've done won't put the stopper on me. Let me tell you, Matheson, that
+it will take a better man than you to down Lars Larssen."
+
+When he left the board-room, all four Directors remained silent. They
+knew that he had spoken truth. Even in defeat Lars Larssen was a bigger
+man than any of the four.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the first, the doctors had little hope of saving Olive. Her
+constitution, never a strong one, had been undermined by the luxurious
+pleasure-seeking of her life and the deadly nerve-poison of the morphia.
+That night and day on the upturned boat--drenched with the waves,
+chilled, famished, tortured with thirst--had been an ordeal to shatter
+even a woman with big reserves of strength, and Olive had no such
+reserves.
+
+When Matheson and his father-in-law hurried back to Hull, it was to find
+that life was slowly ebbing. Towards the end her mind cleared of
+delirium, and she spoke rationally.
+
+"Perhaps it is all for the best, Clifford," she murmured. "You came back
+to me, but could I have held you?"
+
+"You had come to care for me again," he answered gently.
+
+"Yes, but I am so uncertain. It's my nature. I might have held you for a
+little while ... and then."
+
+"You must think only of getting well again," he urged.
+
+"Don't try to buoy me up with false hopes. It is kind of you, dear; but
+I see things clearly now.... You came back to me, and I am content. I
+want rest now--just rest."
+
+Presently her eyelids closed in sleep. Matheson sat watching by her
+bedside for a long while, holding her hand. She stirred once and
+murmured drowsily, "You came back to me." And in her sleep she passed
+away so gradually that none could say when mortal life had ended and the
+life eternal had begun.
+
+
+
+
+EPILOGUE
+
+
+In the spring of the following year, Clifford and Elaine were on their
+wedding journey to Italy. He had rented a sea-coast villa on the
+Ligurian Riviera, and they were travelling to there from Paris.
+
+It was late at night when the Rome express set them down at their
+destination. The sea was booming eerily against the rock-wall of the
+tiny harbour of Santa Margherita, crowded with lateen-sailed fishing
+craft silhouetted as a tangle of masts and ropes.
+
+But the morning showed a cloudless sky and sunshine dancing on the blue
+waters of the Gulf of Tigullio. They walked together to the tiny fishing
+village of Portofino, along the most beautiful road in Italy. To the one
+side the azure sea was lapping to their feet soft messages of welcome,
+and to the other the olives and the pastel pines were crowding down the
+hillsides to wish them joy and happiness.
+
+They climbed together through a grey-green veil of olive-orchards, past
+the little white Noah's Ark houses of the olive farmers and their quaint
+little Noah's ark cypresses, to the full height of Portofino Kulm, where
+the whole enchanted coast-line of the Riviera from Genoa to Sestri
+Levante lay spread out as a jewelled fringe of ocean. Elaine stood
+hatless while the wanton breeze caressed her glorious hair and caught at
+her skirts with careless familiarity.
+
+She threw her arms wide as she cried joyously to Clifford: "Just to be
+able to _see_ all this!"
+
+"Thanks to Dr Hegelmann."
+
+"I'm glad your work is for science. Some day you'll be able to give to
+others in return for what science has given to me."
+
+"Indeed I hope so."
+
+"For a month I claim you for myself," continued Elaine. "You and I
+alone.... Then I'll share you with your work--your big work. You and I
+and your work!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH
+
+
+
+
+A SELECTION OF BOOKS PUBLISHED BY METHUEN AND CO. LTD., LONDON
+36 ESSEX STREET
+W.C.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+General Literature                                                     2
+  Ancient Cities                                                      13
+  Antiquary's Books                                                   13
+  Arden Shakespeare                                                   14
+  Classics of Art                                                     14
+  'Complete' Series                                                   15
+  Connoisseur's Library                                               15
+  Handbooks of English Church History                                 16
+  Handbooks of Theology                                               16
+  'Home Life' Series                                                  16
+  Illustrated Pocket Library of Plain and Coloured Books.             16
+  Leaders of Religion                                                 17
+  Library of Devotion                                                 17
+  Little Books on Art                                                 18
+  Little Galleries                                                    18
+  Little Guides                                                       18
+  Little Library                                                      19
+  Little Quarto Shakespeare                                           20
+  Miniature Library                                                   20
+  New Library of Medicine                                             21
+  New Library of Music                                                21
+  Oxford Biographies                                                  21
+  Four Plays                                                          21
+  States of Italy                                                     21
+  Westminster Commentaries                                            22
+  'Young' Series                                                      22
+  Shilling Library                                                    22
+  Books for Travellers                                                23
+  Some Books on Art                                                   23
+  Some Books on Italy                                                 24
+
+Fiction                                                               25
+  Books for Boys and Girls                                            30
+  Shilling Novels                                                     30
+  Sevenpenny Novels                                                   31
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SELECTION OF MESSRS. METHUEN'S PUBLICATIONS
+
+
+In this Catalogue the order is according to authors. An asterisk denotes
+that the book is in the press.
+
+Colonial Editions are published of all Messrs. METHUEN'S Novels issued
+at a price above _2s. 6d._, and similar editions are published of some
+works of General Literature. Colonial Editions are only for circulation
+in the British Colonies and India.
+
+All books marked net are not subject to discount, and cannot be bought
+at less than the published price. Books not marked net are subject to
+the discount which the bookseller allows.
+
+Messrs. METHUEN'S books are kept in stock by all good booksellers. If
+there is any difficulty in seeing copies, Messrs. Methuen will be very
+glad to have early information, and specimen copies of any books will be
+sent on receipt of the published price _plus_ postage for net books, and
+of the published price for ordinary books.
+
+This Catalogue contains only a selection of the more important books
+published by Messrs. Methuen. A complete and illustrated catalogue of
+their publications may be obtained on application.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+=Abraham (G. D.).= MOTOR WAYS IN LAKELAND. Illustrated. _Second Edition.
+Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Adcock (A. St. John).= THE BOOK-LOVER'S
+LONDON. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. net._
+
+
+=Ady (Cecilia M.).= PIUS II.: THE HUMANIST POPE. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo.
+10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Andrewes (Lancelot).= PRECES PRIVATAE. Translated and edited, with
+Notes, by F. E. BRIGHTMAN. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Aristotle.= THE ETHICS. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, by JOHN
+BURNET. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Atkinson (C. T.).= A HISTORY OF GERMANY, 1715-1815. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d.
+net._
+
+
+=Atkinson (T. D.).= ENGLISH ARCHITECTURE. Illustrated. _Third Edition.
+Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+A GLOSSARY OF TERMS USED IN ENGLISH ARCHITECTURE. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+ENGLISH AND WELSH CATHEDRALS. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Bain (F. W.).= A DIGIT OF THE MOON: A HINDOO LOVE STORY. _Tenth
+Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+THE DESCENT OF THE SUN: A CYCLE OF BIRTH. _Sixth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s.
+6d. net._
+
+A HEIFER OF THE DAWN. _Eighth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+IN THE GREAT GOD'S HAIR. _Fifth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+A DRAUGHT OF THE BLUE. _Fifth Edition Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+AN ESSENCE OF THE DUSK. _Third Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+AN INCARNATION OF THE SNOW. _Third Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+A MINE OF FAULTS. _Third Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+THE ASHES OF A GOD. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+BUBBLES OF THE FOAM. _Second Edition. Fcap. 4to. 5s. net. Also Fcap.
+8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Balfour (Graham).= THE LIFE OF ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Illustrated.
+_Eleventh Edition. In one Volume. Cr. 8vo. Buckram, 6s.
+Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Baring (Hon. Maurice).= LANDMARKS IN RUSSIAN LITERATURE. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. net._
+
+RUSSIAN ESSAYS AND STORIES. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE. _Demy 8vo. 15s. net._
+
+
+=Baring-Gould (S.).= THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. Illustrated.
+_Second Edition. Royal 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+THE TRAGEDY OF THE CAESARS: A STUDY OF THE CHARACTERS OF THE CAESARS OF
+THE JULIAN AND CLAUDIAN HOUSES. Illustrated. _Seventh Edition. Royal
+8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+THE VICAR OF MORWENSTOW. With a Portrait. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s.
+6d.
+Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+OLD COUNTRY LIFE. Illustrated. _Fifth Edition. Large Cr. 8vo. 6s.
+Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+A BOOK OF CORNWALL. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A BOOK OF DARTMOOR. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A BOOK OF DEVON. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Baring-Gould (S.)= and =Sheppard (H. Fleetwood).= A GARLAND OF COUNTRY
+SONG. English Folk Songs with their Traditional Melodies. _Demy 4to.
+6s._
+
+SONGS OF THE WEST. Folk Songs of Devon and Cornwall. Collected from the
+Mouths of the People. New and Revised Edition, under the musical
+editorship of CECIL J. SHARP. _Large Imperial 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+
+=Barker (E.).= THE POLITICAL THOUGHT OF PLATO AND ARISTOTLE. _Demy 8vo.
+10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Bastable (C. F.).= THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+2s. 6d._
+
+
+=Beckford (Peter).= THOUGHTS ON HUNTING. Edited by J. OTHO PAGET.
+Illustrated. _Third Edition. Demy 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Belloc (H.).= PARIS. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+HILLS AND THE SEA. _Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s.
+Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+ON NOTHING AND KINDRED SUBJECTS. _Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+ON EVERYTHING. _Third Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+ON SOMETHING. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+FIRST AND LAST. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+THIS AND THAT AND THE OTHER. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+MARIE ANTOINETTE. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Demy 8vo. 15s. net._
+
+THE PYRENEES. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=*Bennett (Arnold).= THE TRUTH ABOUT AN AUTHOR. _Crown 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bennett (W. H.).= A PRIMER OF THE BIBLE. _Fifth Edition Cr. 8vo. 2s.
+6d._
+
+
+=Bennett (W. H.) and Adeney (W. F.).= A BIBLICAL INTRODUCTION. With a
+concise Bibliography. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 7s. 6d. Also in Two
+Volumes. Cr. 8vo. Each 3s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Benson (Archbishop).= GOD'S BOARD. Communion Addresses. _Second
+Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Berriman (Algernon E.).= AVIATION. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Bicknell (Ethel E.).= PARIS AND HER TREASURES. Illustrated. _Fcap.
+8vo. Round corners. 5s. net._
+
+
+=Blake (William).= ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE BOOK OF JOB. With a General
+Introduction by LAURENCE BINYON. Illustrated. _Quarto. 21s. net._
+
+
+=Bloemfontein (Bishop of).= ARA COELI: AN ESSAY IN MYSTICAL THEOLOGY.
+_Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+FAITH AND EXPERIENCE. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Boulenger (G. A.).= THE SNAKES OF EUROPE. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bowden= (E. M.).= THE IMITATION OF BUDDHA. Quotations from Buddhist
+Literature for each Day in the Year. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 16mo. 2s.
+6d._
+
+
+=Brabant (F. G.).= RAMBLES IN SUSSEX. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bradley (A. G.).= THE ROMANCE OF NORTHUMBERLAND. Illustrated. _Third
+Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Braid (James).= ADVANCED GOLF. Illustrated. _Seventh Edition. Demy
+8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Bridger (A. E.).= MINDS IN DISTRESS. A Psychological Study of the
+Masculine and Feminine Minds in Health and in Disorder. _Second Edition.
+Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Brodrick (Mary)= and =Morton (A. Anderson).= A CONCISE DICTIONARY OF
+EGYPTIAN ARCHAEOLOGY. A Handbook for Students and Travellers.
+Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+=Browning (Robert).= PARACELSUS. Edited with an Introduction, Notes, and
+Bibliography by MARGARET L. LEE and KATHARINE B. LOCOCK. _Fcap. 8vo 3s.
+6d. net._
+
+
+=Buckton (A. M.).= EAGER HEART: A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY-PLAY. _Twelfth
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Bull (Paul).= GOD AND OUR SOLDIERS. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Burns (Robert).= THE POEMS AND SONGS. Edited by ANDREW LANG and W. A.
+CRAIGIE. With Portrait. _Third Edition. Wide Demy 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Calman (W. T.).= THE LIFE OF CRUSTACEA. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Carlyle (Thomas).= THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Edited by C. R. L. FLETCHER.
+_Three Volumes. Cr. 8vo. 18s._
+
+THE LETTERS AND SPEECHES OF OLIVER CROMWELL. With an Introduction by C.
+H. FIRTH, and Notes and Appendices by S. C. LOMAS. _Three Volumes. Demy
+8vo. 18s. net._
+
+
+=Chambers (Mrs. Lambert).= LAWN TENNIS FOR LADIES. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Chesser (Elizabeth Sloan).= PERFECT HEALTH FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN. _Cr.
+8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Chesterfield (Lord).= THE LETTERS OF THE EARL OF CHESTERFIELD TO HIS
+SON. Edited, with an Introduction by C. STRACHEY, and Notes by A.
+CALTHROP. _Two Volumes. Cr. 8vo. 12s._
+
+
+=Chesterton (G. K.).= CHARLES DICKENS. With two Portraits in
+Photogravure. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo.    1s. net._
+
+THE BALLAD OF THE WHITE HORSE. _Fifth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+ALL THINGS CONSIDERED. _Seventh Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+TREMENDOUS TRIFLES. _Fifth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+ALARMS AND DISCURSIONS. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+A MISCELLANY OF MEN. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+
+=Clausen (George).= ROYAL ACADEMY LECTURES ON PAINTING. Illustrated.
+_Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+
+=Conrad (Joseph).= THE MIRROR OF THE SEA: Memories and Impressions.
+_Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+
+=Coolidge (W. A. B.).= THE ALPS: IN NATURE AND HISTORY. Illustrated.
+_Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Correvon (H.).= ALPINE FLORA. Translated and enlarged by E. W.
+CLAYFORTH. Illustrated. _Square Demy 8vo. 16s. net._
+
+
+=Coulton (G. G.).= CHAUCER AND HIS ENGLAND. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Cowper (William).= POEMS. Edited, with an Introduction and Notes, by J.
+C. BAILEY. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+=Cox (J. C.).= RAMBLES IN SURREY. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+RAMBLES IN KENT. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Crawley (A. E.).= THE BOOK OF THE BALL: AN ACCOUNT OF WHAT IT DOES AND
+WHY. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Davis (H. W. C.).= ENGLAND UNDER THE NORMANS AND ANGEVINS: 1066-1272.
+_Third Edition. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Dawbarn (Charles).= FRANCE AND THE FRENCH. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 10s.
+6d. net._
+
+
+=*Dearmer (Mabel).= A CHILD'S LIFE OF CHRIST. Illustrated. _New and
+Cheaper Edition. Large Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Deffand (Madame du).= LETTRES DE LA MARQUISE DU DEFFAND A HORACE
+WALPOLE. Edited, with Introduction, Notes, and Index, by Mrs. PAGET
+TOYNBEE. _Three Volumes. Demy 8vo. L3 3s. net._
+
+
+=Dickinson (G. L.).= THE GREEK VIEW OF LIFE. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+2s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Ditchfield (P. H.).= THE OLD-TIME PARSON. Illustrated. _Second Edition.
+Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+THE OLD ENGLISH COUNTRY SQUIRE. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Dowden (J.).= FURTHER STUDIES IN THE PRAYER BOOK. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Driver (S. R.).= SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT.
+_Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Dumas (Alexandre).= THE CRIMES OF THE BORGIAS AND OTHERS. With an
+Introduction by R. S. GARNETT. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+THE CRIMES OF URBAIN GRANDIER AND OTHERS. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE CRIMES OF THE MARQUISE DE BRINVILLIERS AND OTHERS. Illustrated. _Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THE CRIMES OF ALI PACHA AND OTHERS. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+MY PETS. Newly translated by A. R. ALLINSON. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Dunn-Pattison (R. P.).= NAPOLEON'S MARSHALS. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d. net._
+
+THE BLACK PRINCE. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Durham (The Earl of).= THE REPORT ON CANADA. With an Introductory Note.
+_Demy 8vo. 4s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Egerton (H. E.).= A SHORT HISTORY OF BRITISH COLONIAL POLICY. _Fourth
+Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Evans (Herbert A.).= CASTLES OF ENGLAND AND WALES. Illustrated. _Demy
+8vo. 12s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Exeter (Bishop of).= REGNUM DEI. (The Bampton Lectures of 1901.) _A
+Cheaper Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Ewald (Carl).= MY LITTLE BOY. Translated by ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE
+MATTOS. Illustrated. _Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+
+=Fairbrother (W. H.).= THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN. _Second Edition.
+Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+
+=ffoulkes (Charles).= THE ARMOURER AND HIS CRAFT. Illustrated. _Royal
+4to. L2 2s. net._
+
+DECORATIVE IRONWORK. From the XIth to the XVIIIth Century. Illustrated.
+_Royal 4to. L2 2s. net._
+
+
+=Firth (C. H.).= CROMWELL'S ARMY. A History of the English Soldier
+during the Civil Wars, the Commonwealth, and the Protectorate.
+Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Fisher (H. A. L.).= THE REPUBLICAN TRADITION IN EUROPE. _Cr. 8vo. 6s.
+net._
+
+
+=FitzGerald (Edward).= THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM. Printed from the
+Fifth and last Edition. With a Commentary by H. M. BATSON, and a
+Biographical Introduction by E. D. ROSS. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+Also Illustrated by E. J. SULLIVAN. _Cr. 4to. 15s. net._
+
+
+=Flux (A. W.).= ECONOMIC PRINCIPLES. _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Fraser (E.).= THE SOLDIERS WHOM WELLINGTON LED. Deeds of Daring,
+Chivalry, and Renown. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+THE SAILORS WHOM NELSON LED. Their Doings Described by Themselves.
+Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+
+=Fraser (J. F.).= ROUND THE WORLD ON A WHEEL. Illustrated. _Fifth
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+=Galton (Sir Francis).= MEMORIES OF MY LIFE. Illustrated. _Third
+Edition. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+
+=Gibbins (H. de B.).= INDUSTRY IN ENGLAND: HISTORICAL OUTLINES. With
+Maps and Plans. _Eighth Edition. Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d._
+
+THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. With 5 Maps and a Plan. _Nineteenth
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s._
+
+ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d._
+
+
+=Gibbon (Edward).= THE MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF EDWARD GIBBON. Edited by
+G. BIRKBECK HILL. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. Edited, with Notes,
+Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. BURY, Illustrated. _Seven Volumes. Demy
+8vo._ Illustrated. _Each 10s. 6d. net. Also in Seven Volumes. Cr. 8vo.
+6s. each._
+
+
+=Glover (T. R.).= THE CONFLICT OF RELIGIONS IN THE EARLY ROMAN EMPIRE.
+_Fifth Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+VIRGIL. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+THE CHRISTIAN TRADITION AND ITS VERIFICATION. (The Angus Lecture for
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+'LITTLE BOOKS ON ART.' See page 18.
+
+'THE LITTLE GALLERIES.' See page 18.
+
+
+=Some Books on Italy=
+
+ETRURIA AND MODERN TUSCANY, OLD. Mary L. Cameron. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. net._
+
+FLORENCE: Her History and Art to the Fall of the Republic. F. A. Hyett.
+_Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+FLORENCE, A WANDERER IN. E. V. Lucas. Illustrated. _Sixth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+FLORENCE AND HER TREASURES. H. M. Vaughan. Illustrated. _Fcap. 8vo. 5s.
+net._
+
+FLORENCE, COUNTRY WALKS ABOUT. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+FLORENCE AND THE CITIES OF NORTHERN TUSCANY, WITH GENOA. Edward Hutton.
+Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+LOMBARDY, THE CITIES OF. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+MILAN UNDER THE SFORZA, A HISTORY OF. Cecilia M. Ady. Illustrated. _Demy
+8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+NAPLES: Past and Present. A. H. Norway. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+NAPLES RIVIERA, THE. H. M. Vaughan. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+PERUGIA, A HISTORY OF. William Heywood. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d.
+net._
+
+ROME. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+ROMAGNA AND THE MARCHES, THE CITIES OF. Edward Hutton. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+ROMAN PILGRIMAGE, A. R. E. Roberts. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d.
+net._
+
+ROME OF THE PILGRIMS AND MARTYRS. Ethel Ross Barker. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d.
+net._
+
+ROME. C. G. Ellaby. Illustrated. _Small Pott 8vo. Cloth, 2s. 6d. net;
+leather, 3s. 6d. net._
+
+SICILY. F. H. Jackson. Illustrated. _Small Pott 8vo. Cloth, 2s. 6d. net;
+leather, 3s. 6d. net._
+
+SICILY: The New Winter Resort. Douglas Sladen. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+SIENA AND SOUTHERN TUSCANY. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. _Second Edition.
+Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+UMBRIA, THE CITIES OF. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. _Fifth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+VENICE AND VENETIA. Edward Hutton. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+VENICE ON FOOT. H. A. Douglas. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Fcap. 8vo.
+5s. net._
+
+VENICE AND HER TREASURES. H. A. Douglas. Illustrated. _Fcap. 8vo. 5s.
+net._
+
+VERONA, A HISTORY OF. A. M. Allen. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d.
+net._
+
+DANTE AND HIS ITALY. Lonsdale Ragg. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d.
+net._
+
+DANTE ALIGHIERI: His Life and Works. Paget Toynbee. Illustrated. _Cr.
+8vo. 5s. net._
+
+HOME LIFE IN ITALY. Lina Duff Gordon. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Demy
+8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+LAKES OF NORTHERN ITALY, THE. Richard Bagot. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT. E. L. S. Horsburgh. Illustrated. _Second
+Edition. Demy 8vo. 15s. net._
+
+MEDICI POPES, THE. H. M. Vaughan. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 15s. net._
+
+ST. CATHERINE OF SIENA AND HER TIMES. By the Author of 'Mdlle. Mori.'
+Illustrated. _Second Edition. Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+S. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, THE LIVES OF. Brother Thomas of Celano. _Cr. 8vo.
+5s. net._
+
+SAVONAROLA, GIROLAMO. E. L. S. Horsburgh. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 5s.
+net._
+
+SHELLEY AND HIS FRIENDS IN ITALY. Helen R. Angeli. Illustrated. _Demy
+8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+SKIES ITALIAN: A Little Breviary for Travellers in Italy. Ruth S.
+Phelps. _Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net._
+
+UNITED ITALY. F. M. Underwood. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+WOMAN IN ITALY. W. Boulting. Illustrated. _Demy 8vo. 10s. 6d. net._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+PART III.--A SELECTION OF WORKS OF FICTION
+
+
+=Albanesi (E. Maria).= SUSANNAH AND ONE OTHER. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+I KNOW A MAIDEN. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE INVINCIBLE AMELIA; OR, THE POLITE ADVENTURESS. _Third Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+THE GLAD HEART. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+OLIVIA MARY. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE BELOVED ENEMY. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bagot (Richard).= A ROMAN MYSTERY. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE PASSPORT. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+ANTHONY CUTHBERT. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+LOVE'S PROXY. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+DONNA DIANA. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE HOUSE OF SERRAVALLE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+DARNELEY PLACE. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bailey (H. C.).= STORM AND TREASURE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE LONELY QUEEN. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE SEA CAPTAIN. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Baring-Gould (S.).= IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+MARGERY OF QUETHER. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE QUEEN OF LOVE. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+NOEMI. Illustrated. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+BLADYS OF THE STEWPONEY. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+PABO THE PRIEST. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+WINEFRED. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+IN DEWISLAND. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+MRS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Barr (Robert).= IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE COUNTESS TEKLA. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE MUTABLE MANY. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Begbie (Harold).= THE CURIOUS AND DIVERTING ADVENTURES OF SIR JOHN
+SPARROW, BART.; OR, THE PROGRESS OF AN OPEN MIND. _Second Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Belloc (H.).= EMMANUEL BURDEN, MERCHANT. Illustrated. _Second Edition.
+Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A CHANGE IN THE CABINET. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bennett (Arnold).= CLAYHANGER. _Eleventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE CARD. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+HILDA LESSWAYS. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+BURIED ALIVE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A MAN FROM THE NORTH. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE MATADOR OF THE FIVE TOWNS. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE REGENT: A FIVE TOWNS STORY OF ADVENTURE IN LONDON. _Third Edition.
+Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+ANNA OF THE FIVE TOWNS. _Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+TERESA OF WATLING STREET. _Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Benson (E. F.).= DODO: A DETAIL OF THE DAY. _Sixteenth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Birmingham (George A.).= SPANISH GOLD. _Seventeenth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s. Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+THE SEARCH PARTY. _Tenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+LALAGE'S LOVERS. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE ADVENTURES OF DR. WHITTY. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Bowen (Marjorie).= I WILL MAINTAIN. _Ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+DEFENDER OF THE FAITH. _Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A KNIGHT OF SPAIN. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE QUEST OF GLORY. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+GOD AND THE KING. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE GOVERNOR OF ENGLAND. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Castle (Agnes and Egerton).= THE GOLDEN BARRIER. _Third Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Chesterton (G. K.).= THE FLYING INN. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Clifford (Mrs. W. K.).= THE GETTING WELL OF DOROTHY. Illustrated.
+_Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+
+=Conrad (Joseph).= THE SECRET AGENT: A SIMPLE TALE. _Fourth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+A SET OF SIX. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+UNDER WESTERN EYES. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+CHANCE. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Conyers (Dorothea).= SALLY. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+SANDY MARRIED. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Corelli (Marie).= A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. _Thirty-Second Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+VENDETTA; OR, THE STORY OF ONE FORGOTTEN. _Thirty-first Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THELMA: A NORWEGIAN PRINCESS. _Forty-fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+ARDATH: THE STORY OF A DEAD SELF. _Twenty-first Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE SOUL OF LILITH. _Eighteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+WORMWOOD: A DRAMA OF PARIS. _Nineteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+BARABBAS: A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY. _Forty-seventh Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THE SORROWS OF SATAN. _Fifty-eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE MASTER-CHRISTIAN. _Fifteenth Edition. 179th Thousand. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+TEMPORAL POWER: A STUDY IN SUPREMACY. _Second Edition. 150th Thousand.
+Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+GOD'S GOOD MAN: A SIMPLE LOVE STORY. _Sixteenth Edition. 154th Thousand.
+Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+HOLY ORDERS: THE TRAGEDY OF A QUIET LIFE. _Second Edition. 120th
+Thousand. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE MIGHTY ATOM. _Twenty-ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s.
+net._
+
+BOY: A SKETCH. _Thirteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s.
+net._
+
+CAMEOS. _Fourteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE LIFE EVERLASTING. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+JANE: A SOCIAL INCIDENT. _Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Crockett (S. R.).= LOCHINVAR. Illustrated. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+THE STANDARD BEARER. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Croker (B. M.).= THE OLD CANTONMENT. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+JOHANNA. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A NINE DAYS' WONDER. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+ANGEL. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+KATHERINE THE ARROGANT. _Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+BABES IN THE WOOD. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Danby (Frank).= JOSEPH IN JEOPARDY. _Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Doyle (Sir A. Conan).= ROUND THE RED LAMP. _Twelfth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s. Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Drake (Maurice).= WO_2. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Findlater (J. H.).= THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE. _Fifth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THE LADDER TO THE STARS. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Findlater (Mary).= A NARROW WAY. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE ROSE OF JOY. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A BLIND BIRD'S NEST. Illustrated. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Fry (B. and C. B.).= A MOTHER'S SON. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Harraden (Beatrice).= IN VARYING MOODS. _Fourteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+HILDA STRAFFORD and THE REMITTANCE MAN. _Twelfth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+INTERPLAY. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Hauptmann (Gerhart).= THE FOOL IN CHRIST: EMMANUEL QUINT. Translated by
+THOMAS SELTZER. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Hichens (Robert).= THE PROPHET OF BERKELEY SQUARE. _Second Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+TONGUES OF CONSCIENCE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+FELIX: THREE YEARS IN A LIFE. _Tenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE WOMAN WITH THE FAN. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. Also Fcap. 8vo.
+1s. net._
+
+BYEWAYS. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. _Twenty-third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE BLACK SPANIEL. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE CALL OF THE BLOOD. _Ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+BARBARY SHEEP. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d.
+Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+THE DWELLER ON THE THRESHOLD. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE WAY OF AMBITION. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Hope (Anthony).= A CHANGE OF AIR. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A MAN OF MARK. _Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+PHROSO. Illustrated. _Ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+SIMON DALE. Illustrated. _Ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE KING'S MIRROR. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+QUISANTE. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE DOLLY DIALOGUES. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+TALES OF TWO PEOPLE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+A SERVANT OF THE PUBLIC. Illustrated. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE GREAT MISS DRIVER. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+MRS. MAXON PROTESTS. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Hutten (Baroness von).= THE HALO. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s. Also
+Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+='The Inner Shrine' (Author of).= THE WILD OLIVE. _Third Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THE STREET CALLED STRAIGHT. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE WAY HOME. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Jacobs (W. W.).= MANY CARGOES. _Thirty-third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+Also Illustrated in colour. _Demy 8vo. 7s. 6d. net._
+
+SEA URCHINS. _Seventeenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+A MASTER OF CRAFT. Illustrated. _Tenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+LIGHT FREIGHTS. Illustrated. _Eleventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d. Also
+Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+THE SKIPPER'S WOOING. _Eleventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+AT SUNWICH PORT. Illustrated. _Eleventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+DIALSTONE LANE. Illustrated. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+ODD CRAFT. Illustrated. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+THE LADY OF THE BARGE. Illustrated. _Ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+SALTHAVEN. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+SAILORS' KNOTS. Illustrated. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+SHORT CRUISES. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 3s. 6d._
+
+
+=James (Henry).= THE GOLDEN BOWL. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Le Queux (William).= THE CLOSED BOOK. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. Illustrated. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+BEHIND THE THRONE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=London (Jack).= WHITE FANG. _Ninth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Lowndes (Mrs. Belloc).= THE CHINK IN THE ARMOUR. _Fourth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s. net._
+
+MARY PECHELL. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+STUDIES IN LOVE AND IN TERROR. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE LODGER. _Fourth Edition. Crown 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Lucas (E. V.).= LISTENER'S LURE: AN OBLIQUE NARRATION. _Tenth Edition.
+Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+OVER BEMERTON'S: AN EASY-GOING CHRONICLE. _Eleventh Edition. Fcap. 8vo.
+5s._
+
+MR. INGLESIDE. _Tenth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+LONDON LAVENDER. _Eighth Edition. Fcap. 8vo. 5s._
+
+
+=Lyall (Edna).= DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. _44th Thousand. Cr. 8vo. 3s.
+6d._
+
+
+=Macnaughtan (S.).= THE FORTUNE OF CHRISTINA M'NAB. _Sixth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 2s. net._
+
+PETER AND JANE. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Malet (Lucas).= A COUNSEL OF PERFECTION. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+COLONEL ENDERBY'S WIFE. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE HISTORY OF SIR RICHARD CALMADY: A ROMANCE. _Seventh Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THE WAGES OF SIN. _Sixteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE CARISSIMA. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE GATELESS BARRIER. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Mason (A. E. W.).= CLEMENTINA. Illustrated. _Eighth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+
+=Maxwell (W. B.).= THE RAGGED MESSENGER. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+VIVIEN. _Thirteenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE GUARDED FLAME. _Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+ODD LENGTHS. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+HILL RISE. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+THE COUNTESS OF MAYBURY: BETWEEN YOU AND I. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+THE REST CURE. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Milne (A. A.).= THE DAY'S PLAY. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE HOLIDAY ROUND. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Montague (C. E.).= A HIND LET LOOSE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE MORNING'S WAR. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Morrison (Arthur).= TALES OF MEAN STREETS. _Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+A CHILD OF THE JAGO. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE HOLE IN THE WALL. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+DIVERS VANITIES. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Ollivant (Alfred).= OWD BOB, THE GREY DOG OF KENMUIR. With a
+Frontispiece. _Twelfth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE TAMING OF JOHN BLUNT. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE ROYAL ROAD. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Onions (Oliver).= GOOD BOY SELDOM: A ROMANCE OF ADVERTISEMENT. _Second
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE TWO KISSES. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Oppenheim (E. Phillips).= MASTER OF MEN. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE MISSING DELORA. Illustrated. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Orczy (Baroness).= FIRE IN STUBBLE. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+
+=Oxenham (John).= A WEAVER OF WEBS. Illustrated. _Fifth Edition. Cr.
+8vo. 6s._
+
+THE GATE OF THE DESERT. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+PROFIT AND LOSS. _Sixth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE LONG ROAD. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+_Also Fcap. 8vo. 1s. net._
+
+THE SONG OF HYACINTH, AND OTHER STORIES. _Second Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+MY LADY OF SHADOWS. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+LAURISTONS. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo 6s._
+
+THE COIL OF CARNE. _Sixth Edition Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN ROSE _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+MARY ALL-ALONE. _Third Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+
+=Parker (Gilbert).= PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. _Seventh Edition. Cr. 8vo.
+6s._
+
+MRS. FALCHION. _Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE. _Fourth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Illustrated. _Tenth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC: THE STORY OF A LOST NAPOLEON. _Seventh
+Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
+AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH: THE LAST ADVENTURES OF 'PRETTY PIERRE.'
+_Fifth Edition. Cr. 8vo. 6s._
+
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+I CROWN THEE KING. Max Pemberton.
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+PETER, A PARASITE. E. Maria Albanesi.
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+PRINCESS VIRGINIA, THE. C. N. & A. M. Williamson.
+PROFIT AND LOSS. John Oxenham.
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+SIGN OF THE SPIDER, THE. Bertram Mitford.
+SON OF THE STATE, A. W. Pett Ridge.
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+_Printed by_ MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED, _Edinburgh_
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