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diff --git a/5091-h/5091-h.htm b/5091-h/5091-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a76259 --- /dev/null +++ b/5091-h/5091-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15423 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Tempting of Tavernake, by E. Phillips Oppenheim + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +Project Gutenberg's The Tempting of Tavernake, by E. Phillips Oppenheim + +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: The Tempting of Tavernake + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + +Release Date: June 12, 2009 [EBook #5091] +Last Updated: March 9, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEMPTING OF TAVERNAKE *** + + + + +Produced by Polly Stratton, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE TEMPTING OF TAVERNAKE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By E. Phillips Oppenheim + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK ONE</b>. </a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> DESPAIR + AND INTEREST <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> A + TETE-A-TETE SUPPER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> AN + UNPLEASANT MEETING <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> BREAKFAST + WITH BEATRICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> INTRODUCING + Mrs. WENHAM GARDNER <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> QUESTIONS + AND ANSWERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> Mr. + PRITCHARD OF NEW YORK <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. + </a> WOMAN'S WILES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0009"> + CHAPTER IX. </a> THE PLOT THICKENS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> THE JOY OF BATTLE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> A BEWILDERING OFFER + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> TAVERNAKE + BLUNDERS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> AN + EVENING CALL <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> A + WARNING FROM Mr. PRITCHARD <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER, + XV. </a> GENERAL DISCONTENT <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0016"> + CHAPTER XVI. </a> AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> THE BALCONY AT + IMANO'S <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> A + MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> TAVERNAKE + INTERVENES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> A + PLEASANT REUNION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> SOME + EXCELLENT ADVICE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> DINNER + WITH ELIZABETH <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> ON + AN ERRAND OF CHIVALRY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. + </a> CLOSE TO TRAGEDY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> + CHAPTER XXV. </a> THE MADMAN TALKS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> A CRISIS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> TAVERNAKE + CHOOSES <br /><br /> <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> <b>BOOK TWO.</b></a> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER I. </a> NEW + HORIZONS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER II. </a> THE + SIMPLE LIFE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER III. </a> OLD + FRIENDS MEET <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER IV. </a> PRITCHARD'S + GOOD NEWS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER V. </a> BEATRICE + REFUSES <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER VI. </a> UNDERSTANDING + COMES TOO LATE <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER VII. </a> IN + A VIRGIN COUNTRY <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> BACK + TO CIVILIZATION <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER IX. </a> FOR + ALWAYS <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + BOOK ONE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. DESPAIR AND INTEREST + </h2> + <p> + They stood upon the roof of a London boarding-house in the neighborhood of + Russell Square—one of those grim shelters, the refuge of + Transatlantic curiosity and British penury. The girl—she represented + the former race was leaning against the frail palisading, with gloomy + expression and eyes set as though in fixed contemplation of the + uninspiring panorama. The young man—unmistakably, uncompromisingly + English—stood with his back to the chimney a few feet away, watching + his companion. The silence between them was as yet unbroken, had lasted, + indeed, since she had stolen away from the shabby drawing-room below, + where a florid lady with a raucous voice had been shouting a music-hall + ditty. Close upon her heels, but without speech of any sort, he had + followed. They were almost strangers, except for the occasional word or + two of greeting which the etiquette of the establishment demanded. Yet she + had accepted his espionage without any protest of word or look. He had + followed her with a very definite object. Had she surmised it, he + wondered? She had not turned her head or vouchsafed even a single question + or remark to him since he had pushed his way through the trap-door almost + at her heels and stepped out on to the leads. Yet it seemed to him that + she must guess. + </p> + <p> + Below them, what seemed to be the phantasm of a painted city, a wilderness + of housetops, of smoke-wreathed spires and chimneys, stretched away to a + murky, blood-red horizon. Even as they stood there, a deeper color stained + the sky, an angry sun began to sink into the piled up masses of thick, + vaporous clouds. The girl watched with an air of sullen yet absorbed + interest. Her companion's eyes were still fixed wholly and critically upon + her. Who was she, he wondered? Why had she left her own country to come to + a city where she seemed to have no friends, no manner of interest? In that + caravansary of the world's stricken ones she had been an almost unnoticed + figure, silent, indisposed for conversation, not in any obvious manner + attractive. Her clothes, notwithstanding their air of having come from a + first-class dressmaker, were shabby and out of fashion, their extreme + neatness in itself pathetic. She was thin, yet not without a certain + buoyant lightness of movement always at variance with her tired eyes, her + ceaseless air of dejection. And withal she was a rebel. It was written in + her attitude, it was evident in her lowering, militant expression, the + smouldering fire in her eyes proclaimed it. Her long, rather narrow face + was gripped between her hands; her elbows rested upon the brick parapet. + She gazed at that world of blood-red mists, of unshapely, grotesque + buildings, of strange, tawdry colors; she listened to the medley of sounds—crude, + shrill, insistent, something like the groaning of a world stripped naked—and + she had all the time the air of one who hates the thing she looks upon. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, whose curiosity concerning his companion remained unappeased, + decided that the moment for speech had arrived. He took a step forward + upon the soft, pulpy leads. Even then he hesitated before he finally + committed himself. About his appearance little was remarkable save the + general air of determination which gave character to his undistinguished + features. He was something above the medium height, broad-set, and with + rather more thick black hair than he knew how to arrange advantageously. + He wore a shirt which was somewhat frayed, and an indifferent tie; his + boots were heavy and clumsy; he wore also a suit of ready-made clothes + with the air of one who knew that they were ready-made and was satisfied + with them. People of a nervous or sensitive disposition would, without + doubt, have found him irritating but for a certain nameless gift—an + almost Napoleonic concentration upon the things of the passing moment, + which was in itself impressive and which somehow disarmed criticism. + </p> + <p> + “About that bracelet!” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + She moved her head and looked at him. A young man of less assurance would + have turned and fled. Not so Tavernake. Once sure of his ground he was + immovable. There was murder in her eyes but he was not even disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “I saw you take it from the little table by the piano, you know,” he + continued. “It was rather a rash thing to do. Mrs. Fitzgerald was looking + for it before I reached the stairs. I expect she has called the police in + by now.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly her hand stole into the depths of her pocket and emerged. Something + flashed for a moment high over her head. The young man caught her wrist + just in time, caught it in a veritable grip of iron. Then, indeed, the + evil fires flashed from her eyes, her teeth gleamed white, her bosom rose + and fell in a storm of angry, unuttered sobs. She was dry-eyed and still + speechless, but for all that she was a tigress. A strangely-cut silhouette + they formed there upon the housetops, with a background of empty sky, + their feet sinking in the warm leads. + </p> + <p> + “I think I had better take it,” he said. “Let go.” + </p> + <p> + Her fingers yielded the bracelet—a tawdry, ill-designed affair of + rubies and diamonds. He looked at it disapprovingly. + </p> + <p> + “That's an ugly thing to go to prison for,” he remarked, slipping it into + his pocket. “It was a stupid thing to do, anyhow, you know. You couldn't + have got away with it—unless,” he added, looking over the parapet as + though struck with a sudden idea, “unless you had a confederate below.” + </p> + <p> + He heard the rush of her skirts and he was only just in time. Nothing, in + fact, but a considerable amount of presence of mind and the full exercise + of a strength which was continually providing surprises for his + acquaintances, was sufficient to save her. Their struggles upon the very + edge of the roof dislodged a brick from the palisading, which went + hurtling down into the street. They both paused to watch it, his arms + still gripping her and one foot pressed against an iron rod. It was + immediately after they had seen it pitch harmlessly into the road that a + new sensation came to this phlegmatic young man. For the first time in his + life, he realized that it was possible to feel a certain pleasurable + emotion in the close grasp of a being of the opposite sex. Consequently, + although she had now ceased to struggle, he kept his arms locked around + her, looking into her face with an interest intense enough, but more + analytical than emotional, as though seeking to discover the meaning of + this curious throbbing of his pulses. She herself, as though exhausted, + remained quite passive, shivering a little in his grasp and breathing like + a hunted animal whose last hour has come. Their eyes met; then she tore + herself away. + </p> + <p> + “You are a hateful person,” she said deliberately, “a hateful, interfering + person. I detest you.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that we will go down now,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + He raised the trap-door and glanced at her significantly. She held her + skirts closely together and passed through it without looking at him. She + stepped lightly down the ladder and without hesitation descended also a + flight of uncarpeted attic stairs. Here, however, upon the landing, she + awaited him with obvious reluctance. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to send for the police?” she asked without looking at him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “If I had meant to give you away I should have told Mrs. Fitzgerald at + once that I had seen you take her bracelet, instead of following you out + on to the roof.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind telling me what you do propose to do, then?” she continued + still without looking at him, still without the slightest note of appeal + in her tone. + </p> + <p> + He withdrew the bracelet from his pocket and balanced it upon his finger. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to say that I took it for a joke,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Fitzgerald's sense of humor is not elastic,” she warned him. + </p> + <p> + “She will be very angry, of course,” he assented, “but she will not + believe that I meant to steal it.” + </p> + <p> + The girl moved slowly a few steps away. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that I ought to thank you,” she said, still with averted face + and sullen manner. “You have really been very decent. I am much obliged.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not coming down?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not at present,” she answered. “I am going to my room.” + </p> + <p> + He looked around the landing on which they stood, at the miserable, + uncarpeted floor, the ill-painted doors on which the long-forgotten + varnish stood out in blisters, the jumble of dilapidated hot-water cans, a + mop, and a medley of brooms and rags all thrown down together in a corner. + </p> + <p> + “But these are the servants' quarters, surely,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “They are good enough for me; my room is here,” she told him, turning the + handle of one of the doors and disappearing. The prompt turning of the key + sounded, he thought, a little ungracious. + </p> + <p> + With the bracelet in his hand, Tavernake descended three more flights of + stairs and entered the drawing-room of the private hotel conducted by Mrs. + Raithby Lawrence, whose husband, one learned from her frequent reiteration + of the fact, had once occupied a distinguished post in the Merchant + Service of his country. The disturbance following upon the disappearance + of the bracelet was evidently at its height. There were at least a dozen + people in the room, most of whom were standing up. The central figure of + them all was Mrs. Fitzgerald, large and florid, whose yellow hair with its + varied shades frankly admitted its indebtedness to peroxide; a lady of the + dashing type, who had once made her mark in the music-halls, but was now + happily married to a commercial traveler who was seldom visible. Mrs. + Fitzgerald was talking. + </p> + <p> + “In respectable boarding-houses, Mrs. Lawrence,” she declared with great + emphasis, “thefts may sometimes take place, I will admit, in the servants' + quarters, and with all their temptations, poor things, it's not so much to + be wondered at. But no such thing as this has ever happened to me before—to + have jewelry taken almost from my person in the drawing-room of what + should be a well-conducted establishment. Not a servant in the room, + remember, from the moment I took it off until I got up from the piano and + found it missing. It's your guests you've got to look after, Mrs. + Lawrence, sorry to say it though I am.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lawrence managed here, through sheer loss of breath on the part of + her assailant, to interpose a tearful protest. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure,” she protested feebly, “that there is not a person in + this house who would dream of stealing anything, however valuable it was. + I am most particular always about references.” + </p> + <p> + “Valuable, indeed!” Mrs. Fitzgerald continued with increased volubility. + “I'd have you understand that I am not one of those who wear trumpery + jewelry. Thirty-five guineas that bracelet cost me if it cost a penny, and + if my husband were only at home I could show you the receipt.” + </p> + <p> + Then there came an interruption of almost tragical interest. Mrs. + Fitzgerald, her mouth still open, her stream of eloquence suddenly + arrested, stood with her artificially darkened eyes riveted upon the + stolid, self-composed figure in the doorway. Every one else was gazing in + the same direction. Tavernake was holding the bracelet in the palm of his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-five guineas!” he repeated. “If I had known that it was worth as + much as that, I do not think that I should have dared to touch it.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you took it!” Mrs. Fitzgerald gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he admitted, “that it was rather a clumsy joke. I + apologize, Mrs. Fitzgerald. I hope you did not really imagine that it had + been stolen.” + </p> + <p> + One was conscious of the little thrill of emotion which marked the + termination of the episode. Most of the people not directly concerned were + disappointed; they were being robbed of their excitement, their hopes of a + tragical denouement were frustrated. Mrs. Lawrence's worn face plainly + showed her relief. The lady with the yellow hair, on the other hand, who + had now succeeded in working herself up into a towering rage, snatched the + bracelet from the young man's fingers and with a purple flush in her + cheeks was obviously struggling with an intense desire to box his ears. + </p> + <p> + “That's not good enough for a tale!” she exclaimed harshly. “I tell you I + don't believe a word of it. Took it for a joke, indeed! I only wish my + husband were here; he'd know what to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Your husband couldn't do much more than get your bracelet back, ma'am,” + Mrs. Lawrence replied with acerbity. “Such a fuss and calling every one + thieves, too! I'd be ashamed to be so suspicious.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Fitzgerald glared haughtily at her hostess. + </p> + <p> + “It's all very well for those that don't possess any jewelry and don't + know the value of it, to talk,” she declared, with her eyes fixed upon a + black jet ornament which hung from the other woman's neck. “What I say is + this, and you may just as well hear it from me now as later. I don't + believe this cock-and-bull story of Mr. Tavernake's. Them as took my + bracelet from that table meant keeping it, only they hadn't the courage. + And I'm not referring to you, Mr. Tavernake,” the lady continued + vigorously, “because I don't believe you took it, for all your talk about + a joke. And whom you may be shielding it wouldn't take me two guesses to + name, and your motive must be clear to every one. The common hussy!” + </p> + <p> + “You are exciting yourself unnecessarily, Mrs. Fitzgerald,” Tavernake + remarked. “Let me assure you that it was I who took your bracelet from + that table.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Fitzgerald regarded him scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Do you expect me to believe a tale like that?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” Tavernake replied. “It is the truth. I am sorry that you have + been so upset—” + </p> + <p> + “It is not the truth!” + </p> + <p> + More sensation! Another unexpected entrance! Once more interest in the + affair was revived. After all, the lookers-on felt that they were not to + be robbed of their tragedy. An old lady with yellow cheeks and jet black + eyes leaned forward with her hand to her ear, anxious not to miss a + syllable of what was coming. Tavernake bit his lip; it was the girl from + the roof who had entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt,” she continued in a cool, clear tone, “that Mrs. + Fitzgerald's first guess would have been correct. I took the bracelet. I + did not take it for a joke, I did not take it because I admire it—I + think it is hideously ugly. I took it because I had no money.” + </p> + <p> + She paused and looked around at them all, quietly, yet with something in + her face from which they all shrank. She stood where the light fell full + upon her shabby black gown and dejected-looking hat. The hollows in her + pale cheeks, and the faint rims under her eyes, were clearly manifest; but + notwithstanding her fragile appearance, she held herself with composure + and even dignity. Twenty—thirty seconds must have passed whilst she + stood there, slowly finishing the buttoning of her gloves. No one + attempted to break the silence. She dominated them all—they felt + that she had something more to say. Even Mrs. Fitzgerald felt a weight + upon her tongue. + </p> + <p> + “It was a clumsy attempt,” she went on. “I should have had no idea where + to raise money upon the thing, but I apologize to you, nevertheless, Mrs. + Fitzgerald, for the anxiety which my removal of your valuable property + must have caused you,” she added, turning to the owner of the bracelet, + whose cheeks were once more hot with anger at the contempt in the girl's + tone. “I suppose I ought to thank you, Mr. Tavernake, also, for your + well-meant effort to preserve my character. In future, that shall be my + sole charge. Has any one anything more to say to me before I go?” + </p> + <p> + Somehow or other, no one had. Mrs. Fitzgerald was irritated and fuming, + but she contented herself with a snort. Her speech was ready enough as a + rule, but there was a look in this girl's eyes from which she was glad + enough to turn away. Mrs. Lawrence made a weak attempt at a farewell. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure,” she began, “we are all sorry for what's occurred and that you + must go—not that perhaps it isn't better, under the circumstances,” + she added hastily. “As regards—” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing owing to you,” the girl interrupted calmly. “You may + congratulate yourself upon that, for if there were you would not get it. + Nor have I stolen anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “About your luggage?” Mrs. Lawrence asked. + </p> + <p> + “When I need it, I will send for it,” the girl replied. + </p> + <p> + She turned her back upon them and before they realized it she was gone. + She had, indeed, something of the grand manner. She had come to plead + guilty to a theft and she had left them all feeling a little like snubbed + children. Mrs. Fitzgerald, as soon as the spell of the girl's presence was + removed, was one of the first to recover herself. She felt herself + beginning to grow hot with renewed indignation. + </p> + <p> + “A thief!” she exclaimed looking around the room. “Just an ordinary + self-convicted thief! That's what I call her, and nothing else. And here + we all stood like a lot of ninnies. Why, if I'd done my duty I'd have + locked the door and sent for a policeman.” + </p> + <p> + “Too late now, anyway,” Mrs. Lawrence declared. “She's gone for good, and + no mistake. Walked right out of the house. I heard her slam the front + door.” + </p> + <p> + “And a good job, too,” Mrs. Fitzgerald armed. “We don't want any of her + sort here—not those who've got things of value about them. I bet she + didn't leave America for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + A little gray-haired lady, who had not as yet spoken, and who very seldom + took part in any discussion at all, looked up from her knitting. She was + desperately poor but she had charitable instincts. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what made her want to steal,” she remarked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “A born thief,” Mrs. Fitzgerald declared with conviction,—“a real + bad lot. One of your sly-looking ones, I call her.” + </p> + <p> + The little lady sighed. + </p> + <p> + “When I was better off,” she continued, “I used to help at a soup kitchen + in Poplar. I have never forgotten a certain look we used to see + occasionally in the faces of some of the men and women. I found out what + it meant—it was hunger. Once or twice lately I have passed the girl + who has just gone out, upon the stairs, and she almost frightened me. She + had just the same look in her eyes. I noticed it yesterday—it was + just before dinner, too—but she never came down.” + </p> + <p> + “She paid so much for her room and extra for meals,” Mrs. Lawrence said + thoughtfully. “She never would have a meal unless she paid for it at the + time. To tell you the truth, I was feeling a bit uneasy about her. She + hasn't been in the dining-room for two days, and from what they tell me + there's no signs of her having eaten anything in her room. As for getting + anything out, why should she? It would be cheaper for her here than + anywhere, if she'd got any money at all.” + </p> + <p> + There was an uncomfortable silence. The little old lady with the knitting + looked down the street into the sultry darkness which had swallowed up the + girl. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whether Mr. Tavernake knows anything about her,” some one + suggested. + </p> + <p> + But Tavernake was not in the room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. A TETE-A-TETE SUPPER + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake caught her up in New Oxford Street and fell at once into step + with her. He wasted no time whatever upon preliminaries. + </p> + <p> + “I should be glad,” he said, “if you would tell me your name.” + </p> + <p> + Her first glance at him was fierce enough to have terrified a different + sort of man. Upon Tavernake it had absolutely no effect. + </p> + <p> + “You need not unless you like, of course,” he went on, “but I wish to talk + to you for a few moments and I thought that it would be more convenient if + I addressed you by name. I do not remember to have heard it mentioned at + Blenheim House, and Mrs. Lawrence, as you know, does not introduce her + guests.” + </p> + <p> + By this time they had walked a score or so of paces together. The girl, + after her first furious glance, had taken absolutely no notice of him + except to quicken her pace a little. Tavernake remained by her side, + however, showing not the slightest sense of embarrassment or annoyance. He + seemed perfectly content to wait and he had not in the least the + appearance of a man who could be easily shaken off. From a fit of furious + anger she passed suddenly and without warning to a state of half + hysterical amusement. + </p> + <p> + “You are a foolish, absurd person,” she declared. “Please go away. I do + not wish you to walk with me.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake remained imperturbable. She remembered suddenly his intervention + on her behalf. + </p> + <p> + “If you insist upon knowing,” she said, “my name at Blenheim House was + Beatrice Burnay. I am much obliged to you for what you did for me there, + but that is finished. I do not wish to have any conversation with you, and + I absolutely object to your company. Please leave me at once.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he answered, “but that is not possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Not possible?” she repeated, wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You have no money, you have eaten no dinner, and I do not believe that + you have any idea where you are going,” he declared, deliberately. + </p> + <p> + Her face was once more dark with anger. + </p> + <p> + “Even if that were the truth,” she insisted, “tell me what concern it is + of yours? Your reminding me of these facts is simply an impertinence.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry that you look upon it in that light,” he remarked, still + without the least sign of discomposure. “We will, if you do not mind, + waive the discussion for the moment. Do you prefer a small restaurant or a + corner in a big one? There is music at Frascati's but there are not so + many people in the smaller ones.” + </p> + <p> + She turned half around upon the pavement and looked at him steadfastly. + His personality was at last beginning to interest her. His square jaw and + measured speech were indices of a character at least unusual. She + recognized certain invincible qualities under an exterior absolutely + commonplace. + </p> + <p> + “Are you as persistent about everything in life?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” he replied. “I try always to be consistent.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Leonard Tavernake,” he answered, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you well off—I mean moderately well off?” + </p> + <p> + “I have a quite sufficient income.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any one dependent upon you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a soul,” he declared. “I am my own master in every sense of the + word.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed in an odd sort of way. + </p> + <p> + “Then you shall pay for your persistence,” she said,—“I mean that I + may as well rob you of a sovereign as the restaurant people.” + </p> + <p> + “You must tell me now where you would like to go to,” he insisted. “It is + getting late.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not like these foreign places,” she replied. “I should prefer to go + to the grill-room of a good restaurant.” + </p> + <p> + “We will take a taxicab,” he announced. “You have no objection?” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “If you have the money and don't mind spending it,” she said, “I will + admit that I have had all the walking I want. Besides, the toe of my boot + is worn through and I find it painful. Yesterday I tramped ten miles + trying to find a man who was getting up a concert party for the + provinces.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you find him?” he asked, hailing a cab. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I found him,” she answered, indifferently. “We went through the + usual programme. He heard me sing, tried to kiss me and promised to let me + know. Nobody ever refuses anything in my profession, you see. They promise + to let you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a singer, then, or an actress?” + </p> + <p> + “I am neither,” she told him. “I said 'my profession' because it is the + only one to which I have ever tried to belong. I have never succeeded in + obtaining an engagement in this country. I do not suppose that even if I + had persevered I should ever have had one.” + </p> + <p> + “You have given up the idea, then,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I have given it up,” she admitted, a little curtly. “Please do not think, + because I am allowing you to be my companion for a short time, that you + may ask me questions. How fast these taxies go!” + </p> + <p> + They drew up at their destination—a well-known restaurant in Regent + Street. He paid the cabman and they descended a flight of stairs into the + grill-room. + </p> + <p> + “I hope that this place will suit you,” he said. “I have not much + experience of restaurants.” + </p> + <p> + She looked around and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, “I think that it will do.” + </p> + <p> + She was very shabbily dressed, and he, although his appearance was by no + means ordinary, was certainly not of the type which inspires immediate + respect in even the grill-room of a fashionable restaurant. Nevertheless, + they received prompt and almost officious service. Tavernake, as he + watched his companion's air, her manner of seating herself and accepting + the attentions of the head waiter, felt that nameless impulse which was + responsible for his having followed her from Blenheim House and which he + could only call curiosity, becoming stronger. An exceedingly + matter-of-fact person, he was also by instinct and habit observant. He + never doubted but that she belonged to a class of society from which the + guests at the boarding-house where they had both lived were seldom + recruited, and of which he himself knew little. He was not in the least a + snob, this young man, but he found the fact interesting. Life with him was + already very much the same as a ledger account—a matter of debits + and credits, and he had never failed to include among the latter that + curious gift of breeding for which he himself, denied it by heritage, had + somehow substituted a complete and exceedingly rare naturalness. + </p> + <p> + “I should like,” she announced, laying down the carte, “a fried sole, some + cutlets, an ice, and black coffee.” + </p> + <p> + The waiter bowed. + </p> + <p> + “And for Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake glanced at his watch; it was already ten o'clock. + </p> + <p> + “I will take the same,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “And to drink?” + </p> + <p> + She seemed indifferent. + </p> + <p> + “Any light wine,” she answered, carelessly, “white or red.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake took up the wine list and ordered sauterne. They were left alone + in their corner for a few minutes, almost the only occupants of the place. + </p> + <p> + “You are sure that you can afford this?” she asked, looking at him + critically. “It may cost you a sovereign or thirty shillings.” + </p> + <p> + He studied the prices on the menu. + </p> + <p> + “I can afford it quite well and I have plenty of money with me,” he + assured her, “but I do not think that it will cost more than eighteen + shillings. While we are waiting for the sole, shall we talk? I can tell + you, if you choose to hear, why I followed you from the boardinghouse.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind listening to you,” she told him, “or I will talk with you + about anything you like. There is only one subject which I cannot discuss; + that subject is myself and my own doings.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was silent for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “That makes conversation a bit difficult,” he remarked. She leaned back in + her chair. + </p> + <p> + “After this evening,” she said, “I go out of your life as completely and + finally as though I had never existed. I have a fancy to take my poor + secrets with me. If you wish to talk, tell me about yourself. You have + gone out of your way to be kind to me. I wonder why. It doesn't seem to be + your role.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled slowly. His face was fashioned upon broad lines and the relaxing + of his lips lightened it wonderfully. He had good teeth, clear gray eyes, + and coarse black hair which he wore a trifle long; his forehead was too + massive for good looks. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he admitted, “I do not think that benevolence is one of my + characteristics.” + </p> + <p> + Her dark eyes were turned full upon him; her red lips, redder than ever + they seemed against the pallor of her cheeks and her deep brown hair, + curled slightly. There was something almost insolent in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “You understand, I hope,” she continued, “that you have nothing whatever + to look for from me in return for this sum which you propose to expend for + my entertainment?” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Not even gratitude,” she persisted. “I really do not feel grateful to + you. You are probably doing this to gratify some selfish interest or + curiosity. I warn you that I am quite incapable of any of the proper + sentiments of life.” + </p> + <p> + “Your gratitude would be of no value to me whatever,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + She was still not wholly satisfied. His complete stolidity frustrated + every effort she made to penetrate beneath the surface. + </p> + <p> + “If I believed,” she went on, “that you were one of those men—the + world is full of them, you know—who will help a woman with a + reasonable appearance so long as it does not seriously interfere with + their own comfort—” + </p> + <p> + “Your sex has nothing whatever to do with it,” he interrupted. “As to your + appearance, I have not even considered it. I could not tell you whether + you are beautiful or ugly—I am no judge of these matters. What I + have done, I have done because it pleased me to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you always do what pleases you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nearly always.” + </p> + <p> + She looked him over again attentively, with an interest obviously + impersonal, a trifle supercilious. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” she remarked, “you consider yourself one of the strong people + of the world?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know about that,” he answered. “I do not often think about + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” she explained, “that you are one of those people who struggle + hard to get just what they want in life.” + </p> + <p> + His jaw suddenly tightened and she saw the likeness to Napoleon. + </p> + <p> + “I do more than struggle,” he affirmed, “I succeed. If I make up my mind + to do a thing, I do it; if I make up my mind to get a thing, I get it. It + means hard work sometimes, but that is all.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time, a really natural interest shone out of her eyes. The + half sulky contempt with which she had received his advances passed away. + She became at that moment a human being, self-forgetting, the heritage of + her charms—for she really had a curious but very poignant + attractiveness—suddenly evident. It was only a momentary lapse and + it was entirely wasted. Not even one of the waiters happened to be looking + that way, and Tavernake was thinking wholly of himself. + </p> + <p> + “It is a good deal to say—that,” she remarked, reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “It is a good deal but it is not too much,” he declared. “Every man who + takes life seriously should say it.” + </p> + <p> + Then she laughed—actually laughed—and he had a vision of + flashing white teeth, of a mouth breaking into pleasant curves, of dark + mirth-lit eyes, lustreless no longer, provocative, inspiring. A vague + impression as of something pleasant warmed his blood. It was a rare thing + for him to be so stirred, but even then it was not sufficient to disturb + the focus of his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she demanded, “what do you do? What is your profession or + work?” + </p> + <p> + “I am with a firm of auctioneers and estate agents,” he answered readily,—“Messrs. + Dowling, Spence & Company the name is. Our offices are in Waterloo + Place.” + </p> + <p> + “You find it interesting?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he answered. “Interesting? Why not? I work at it.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a partner?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he admitted. “Six years ago I was a carpenter; then I became an + errand boy in Mr. Dowling's office I had to learn the business, you see. + To-day I am a sort of manager. In eighteen months' time—perhaps + before that if they do not offer me a partnership—I shall start for + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Once more the subtlest of smiles flickered at the corners of her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Do they know yet?” she asked, with faint irony. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” he replied, with absolute seriousness. “They might tell me to + go, and I have a few things to learn yet. I would rather make experiments + for some one else than for myself. I can use the results later; they will + help me to make money.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly and wiped the tears out of her eyes. They were really + very beautiful eyes notwithstanding the dark rims encircling them. + </p> + <p> + “If only I had met you before!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me,” she begged. “It would not be good for your conceit, if you + have any, to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no conceit and I am not inquisitive,” he said, “but I do not see + why you laughed.” + </p> + <p> + Their period of waiting came to an end at this point. The fish was brought + and their conversation became disjointed. In the silence which followed, + the old shadow crept over her face. Once only it lifted. It was while they + were waiting for the cutlets. She leaned towards him, her elbows upon the + tablecloth, her face supported by her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “I think that it is time we left these generalities,” she insisted, “and + you told me something rather more personal, something which I am very + anxious to know. Tell me exactly why so self-centered a person as yourself + should interest himself in a fellow-creature at all. It seems odd to me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is odd,” he admitted, frankly. “I will try to explain it to you but it + will sound very bald, and I do not think that you will understand. I + watched you a few nights ago out on the roof at Blenheim House. You were + looking across the house-tops and you didn't seem to be seeing anything at + all really, and yet all the time I knew that you were seeing things I + couldn't, you were understanding and appreciating something which I knew + nothing of, and it worried me. I tried to talk to you that evening, but + you were rude.” + </p> + <p> + “You really are a curious person,” she remarked. “Are you always worried, + then, if you find that some one else is seeing things or understanding + things which are outside your comprehension?” + </p> + <p> + “Always,” he replied promptly. + </p> + <p> + “You are too far-reaching,” she affirmed. “You want to gather everything + into your life. You cannot. You will only be unhappy if you try. No man + can do it. You must learn your limitations or suffer all your days.” + </p> + <p> + “Limitations!” He repeated the words with measureless scorn. “If I learn + them at all,” he declared, with unexpected force, “it will be with scars + and bruises, for nothing else will content me.” + </p> + <p> + “We are, I should say, almost the same age,” she remarked slowly. + </p> + <p> + “I am twenty-five,” he told her. + </p> + <p> + “I am twenty-two,” she said. “It seems strange that two people whose ideas + of life are as far apart as the Poles should have come together like this + even for a moment. I do not understand it at all. Did you expect that I + should tell you just what I saw in the clouds that night?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered, “not exactly. I have spoken of my first interest in you + only. There are other things. I told a lie about the bracelet and I + followed you out of the boarding-house and I brought you here, for some + other for quite a different reason.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what it was,” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know it myself,” he declared solemnly. “I really and honestly do + not know it. It is because I hoped that it might come to me while we were + together, that I am here with you at this moment. I do not like impulses + which I do not understand.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed at him a little scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” she said, “although it may not have dawned upon you yet, it + is probably the same wretched reason. You are a man and you have the + poison somewhere in your blood. I am really not bad-looking, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her critically. She was a little over-slim, perhaps, but she + was certainly wonderfully graceful. Even the poise of her head, the manner + in which she leaned back in her chair, had its individuality. Her + features, too, were good, though her mouth had grown a trifle hard. For + the first time the dead pallor of her cheeks was relieved by a touch of + color. Even Tavernake realized that there were great possibilities about + her. Nevertheless, he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I do not agree with you in the least,” he asserted firmly. “Your looks + have nothing to do with it. I am sure that it is not that.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me cross-examine you,” she suggested. “Think carefully now. Does it + give you no pleasure at all to be sitting here alone with me?” + </p> + <p> + He answered her deliberately; it was obvious that he was speaking the + truth. + </p> + <p> + “I am not conscious that it does,” he declared. “The only feeling I am + aware of at the present moment in connection with you, is the curiosity of + which I have already spoken.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned a little towards him, extending her very shapely fingers. Once + more the smile at her lips transformed her face. + </p> + <p> + “Look at my hand,” she said. “Tell me—wouldn't you like to hold it + just for a minute, if I gave it you?” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes challenged his, softly and yet imperiously. His whole attention, + however, seemed to be absorbed by her finger-nails. It seemed strange to + him that a girl in her straits should have devoted so much care to her + hands. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered deliberately, “I have no wish to hold your hand. Why + should I?” + </p> + <p> + “Look at me,” she insisted. + </p> + <p> + He did so without embarrassment or hesitation,—it was more than ever + apparent that he was entirely truthful. She leaned back in her chair, + laughing softly to herself. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my friend Mr. Leonard Tavernake,” she exclaimed, “if you were not so + crudely, so adorably, so miraculously truthful, what a prig, prig, prig, + you would be! The cutlets at last, thank goodness! Your cross-examination + is over. I pronounce you 'Not Guilty!”' + </p> + <p> + During the progress of the rest of the meal, they talked very little. At + its conclusion, Tavernake discharged the bill, having carefully checked + each item and tipped the waiter the exact amount which the man had the + right to expect. They ascended the stairs together to the street, the girl + lingering a few steps behind. On the pavement her fingers touched his arm. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder, would you mind driving me down to the Embankment?” she asked + almost humbly. “It was so close down there and I want some air.” + </p> + <p> + This was an extravagance which he had scarcely contemplated, but he did + not hesitate. He called a taxicab and seated himself by her side. Her + manner seemed to have grown quieter and more subdued, her tone was no + longer semi-belligerent. + </p> + <p> + “I will not keep you much longer,” she promised. “I suppose I am not so + strong as I used to be. I have had scarcely anything to eat for two days + and conversation has become an unknown luxury. I think—it seems + absurd—but I think that I am feeling a little faint.” + </p> + <p> + “The air will soon revive you,” he said. “As to our conversation, I am + disappointed. I think that you are very foolish not to tell me more about + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She closed her eyes, ignoring his remark. They turned presently into a + narrower thoroughfare. She leaned towards him. + </p> + <p> + “You have been very good to me,” she admitted almost timidly, “and I am + afraid that I have not been very gracious. We shall not see one another + again after this evening. I wonder—would you care to kiss me?” + </p> + <p> + He opened his lips and closed them again. He sat quite still, his eyes + fixed upon the road ahead, until he had strangled something absolutely + absurd, something unrecognizable. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather not,” he decided quietly. “I know you mean to be kind but + that sort of thing—well, I don't think I understand it. Besides,” he + added with a sudden naive relief, as he clutched at a fugitive but + plausible thought, “if I did you would not believe the things which I have + been telling you.” + </p> + <p> + He had a curious idea that she was disappointed as she turned her head + away, but she said nothing. Arrived at the Embankment, the cab came slowly + to a standstill. The girl descended. There was something new in her + manner; she looked away from him when she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “You had better leave me here,” she said. “I am going to sit upon that + seat.” + </p> + <p> + Then came those few seconds' hesitation which were to count for a great + deal in his life. The impulse which bade him stay with her was + unaccountable but it conquered. + </p> + <p> + “If you do not object,” he remarked with some stiffness, “I should like to + sit here with you for a little time. There is certainly a breeze.” + </p> + <p> + She made no comment but walked on. He paid the man and followed her to the + empty seat. Opposite, some illuminated advertisements blazed their + unsightly message across the murky sky. Between the two curving rows of + yellow lights the river flowed—black, turgid, hopeless. Even here, + though they had escaped from its absolute thrall, the far-away roar of the + city beat upon their ears. She listened to it for a moment and then + pressed her hands to the side of her head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how I hate it!” she moaned. “The voices, always the voices, calling, + threatening, beating you away! Take my hands, Leonard Tavernake,—hold + me.” + </p> + <p> + He did as she bade him, clumsily, as yet without comprehension. + </p> + <p> + “You are not well,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes opened and a flash of her old manner returned. She smiled at him, + feebly but derisively. + </p> + <p> + “You foolish boy!” she cried. “Can't you see that I am dying? Hold my + hands tightly and watch—watch! Here is one more thing you can see—that + you cannot understand.” + </p> + <p> + He saw the empty phial slip from her sleeve and fall on to the pavement. + With a cry he sprang up and, carrying her in his arms, rushed out into the + road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. AN UNPLEASANT MEETING + </h2> + <p> + It was a quarter past eleven and the theatres were disgorging their usual + nightly crowds. The most human thoroughfare in any of the world's great + cities was at its best and brightest. Everywhere commissionaires were + blowing their whistles, the streets were thronged with slowly-moving + vehicles, the pavements were stirring with life. The little crowd which + had gathered in front of the chemist's shop was swept away. After all, + none of them knew exactly what they had been waiting for. There was a + rumor that a woman had fainted or had met with an accident. Certainly she + had been carried into the shop and into the inner room, the door of which + was still closed. A few passers-by had gathered together and stared and + waited for a few minutes, but had finally lost interest and melted away. A + human thoroughfare, this, indeed, one of the pulses of the great city + beating time night and day to the tragedies of life. The chemist's + assistant, with impassive features, was serving a couple of casual + customers from behind the counter. Only a few yards away, beyond the + closed door, the chemist himself and a hastily summoned doctor fought with + Death for the body of the girl who lay upon the floor, faint moans coming + every now and then from her blue lips. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, whose forced inaction during that terrible struggle had become + a burden to him, slipped softly from the room as soon as the doctor had + whispered that the acute crisis was over, and passed through the shop out + into the street, a solemn, dazed figure among the light-hearted crowd. + Even in those grim moments, the man's individualism spoke up to him. He + was puzzled at his own action, He asked himself a question—not, + indeed, with regret, but with something more than curiosity and actual + selfprobing—as though, by concentrating his mind upon his recent + course of action, he would be able to understand the motives which had + influenced him. Why had he chosen to burden himself with the care of this + desperate young woman? Supposing she lived, what was to become of her? He + had acquired a certain definite responsibility with regard to her future, + for whatever the doctor and his assistant might do, it was his own + promptitude and presence of mind which had given her the first chance of + life. Without a doubt, he had behaved foolishly. Why not vanish into the + crowd and have done with it? What was it to him, after all, whether this + girl lived or died? He had done his duty—more than his duty. Why not + disappear now and let her take her chance? His common sense spoke to him + loudly; such thoughts as these beat upon his brain. + </p> + <p> + Just for once in his life, however, his common sense exercised an + altogether subordinate position. He knew very well, even while he listened + to these voices, that he was only counting the minutes until he could + return. Having absolutely decided that the only reasonable course left for + him to pursue was to return home and leave the girl to her fate, he found + himself back inside the shop within a quarter of an hour. The chemist had + just come out from the inner room, and looked up at his entrance. + </p> + <p> + “She'll do now,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. He was amazed at his own sense of relief. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + The doctor joined them, his black bag in his hand, prepared for departure. + He addressed himself to Tavernake as the responsible person. + </p> + <p> + “The young lady will be all right now,” he said, “but she may be rather + queer for a day or two. Fortunately, she made the usual mistake of people + who are ignorant of medicine and its effects—she took enough poison + to kill a whole household. You had better take care of her, young man,” he + added dryly. “She'll be getting into trouble if she tries this sort of + thing again.” + </p> + <p> + “Will she need any special attention during the next few days?” Tavernake + asked. “The circumstances under which I brought her here are a little + unusual, and I am not quite sure—” + </p> + <p> + “Take her home to bed,” the doctor interrupted, “and you'll find she'll + sleep it off. She seems to have a splendid constitution, although she has + let herself run down. If you need any further advice and your own medical + man is not available, I will come and see her if you send for me. Camden, + my name is; telephone number 734 Gerrard.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be glad to know the amount of your fee, if you please,” + Tavernake said. + </p> + <p> + “My fee is two guineas,” the doctor answered. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake paid him and he went away. Already the shadow of the tragedy was + passing. The chemist had joined his assistant and was busy dispensing + drugs behind his counter. + </p> + <p> + “You can go in to the young lady, if you like,” he remarked to Tavernake. + “I dare say she'll feel better to have some one with her.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake passed slowly into the inner room, closing the door behind him. + He was scarcely prepared for so piteous a sight. The girl's face was white + and drawn as she lay upon the couch to which they had lifted her. The + fighting spirit was dead; she was in a state of absolute and complete + collapse. She opened her eyes at his coning, but closed them again almost + immediately—less, it seemed, from any consciousness of his presence + than from sheer exhaustion. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad that you are better,” he whispered crossing the room to her + side. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she murmured almost inaudibly. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stood looking down upon her, and his sense of perplexity + increased. Stretched on the hard horsehair couch she seemed, indeed, + pitifully thin and younger than her years. The scowl, which had passed + from her face, had served in some measure as a disguise. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to leave here in a few minutes,” he said, softly. “They + will want to close the shop.” + </p> + <p> + “I am so sorry,” she faltered, “to have given you all this trouble. You + must send me to a hospital or the workhouse—anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure that there are no friends to whom I can send?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “There is no one!” + </p> + <p> + She closed her eyes and Tavernake sat quite still on the end of her couch, + his elbow upon his knee, his head resting upon his hand. Presently, the + rush of customers having ceased, the chemist came in. + </p> + <p> + “I think, if I were you, I should take her home now,” he remarked. “She'll + probably drop off to sleep very soon and wake up much stronger. I have + made up a prescription here in case of exhaustion.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stared at the man. Take her home! His sense of humor was faint + enough but he found himself trying to imagine the faces of Mrs. Lawrence + or Mrs. Fitzgerald if he should return with her to the boardinghouse at + such an hour. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know where she lives?” the chemist inquired curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Tavernake assented. “You are quite right. I dare say she is + strong enough now to walk as far as the pavement.” + </p> + <p> + He paid the bill for the medicines, and they lifted her from the couch. + Between them she walked slowly into the outer shop. Then she began to drag + on their arms and she looked up at the chemist a little piteously. + </p> + <p> + “May I sit down for a moment?” she begged. “I feel faint.” + </p> + <p> + They placed her in one of the cane chairs facing the door. The chemist + mixed her some sal volatile. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” she murmured, “so sorry. In a few minutes—I shall be + better.” + </p> + <p> + Outside, the throng of pedestrians had grown less, but from the great + restaurant opposite a constant stream of motor-cars and carriages was + slowly bringing away the supper guests. Tavernake stood at the door, + watching them idly. The traffic was momentarily blocked and almost + opposite to him a motor-car, the simple magnificence of which filled him + with wonder, had come to a standstill. The chauffeur and footman both wore + livery which was almost white. Inside a swinging vase of flowers was + suspended from the roof. A man and a woman leaned back in luxurious + easy-chairs. The man was dark and had the look of a foreigner. The woman + was very fair. She wore a long ermine cloak and a tiara of pearls. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, whose interest in the passing throngs was entirely superficial, + found himself for some reason curiously attracted by this glimpse into a + world of luxury of which he knew nothing; attracted, too, by the woman's + delicate face with its uncommon type of beauty. Their eyes met as he stood + there, stolid and motionless, framed in the doorway. Tavernake continued + to stare, unmindful, perhaps unconscious, of the rudeness of his action. + The woman, after a moment, glanced away at the shopwindow. A sudden + thought seemed to strike her. She spoke through the tube at her side and + turned to her companion. Meanwhile, the footman, leaning from his place, + held out his arm in warning and the car was slowly backed to the side of + the pavement. The lady felt for a moment in a bag of white satin which lay + upon the round table in front of her, and handed a slip of paper through + the open window to the servant who had already descended and was standing + waiting. He came at once towards the shop, passing Tavernake, who remained + in the door-way. + </p> + <p> + “Will you make this up at once, please?” he directed, handing the paper + across to the chemist. + </p> + <p> + The chemist took it in his hand and turned away mechanically toward the + dispensing room. Suddenly he paused, and, looking back, shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “For whom is this prescription required?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “For my mistress,” the man answered. “Her name is there.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Outside; she is waiting for it.” + </p> + <p> + “If she really wants this made up to-night,” the chemist declared, “she + must come in and sign the book.” + </p> + <p> + The footman looked across the counter, for a moment, a little blankly. + </p> + <p> + “Am I to tell her that?” he inquired. “It's only a sleeping draught. Her + regular chemist makes it up all right.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be,” the man behind the counter replied, “but, you see, I am not + her regular chemist. You had better go and tell her so.” + </p> + <p> + The footman departed upon his errand without a glance at the girl who was + sitting within a few feet of him. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry, madam,” he announced to his mistress, “that the chemist + declines to make up the prescription unless you sign the book.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, I will come,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + The woman, handed from the automobile by her servant, lifted her white + satin skirts in both hands and stepped lightly across the pavement. + Tavernake stood on one side to let her pass. She seemed to him to be, + indeed, a creature of that other world of which he knew nothing. Her slow, + graceful movements, the shimmer of her skirt, her silk stockings, the + flashing of the diamond buckles upon her shoes, the faint perfume from her + clothes, the soft touch of her ermine as she swept by—all these + things were indeed strange to him. His eyes followed her with rapt + interest as she approached the counter. + </p> + <p> + “You wish me to sign for my prescription?” she asked the chemist. “I will + do so, with pleasure, if it is necessary, only you must not keep me + waiting long.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was very low and very musical; the slight smile which had parted + her tired lips, was almost pathetic. Even the chemist felt himself to be a + human being. He turned at once to his shelves and began to prepare the + drug. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, madam, that it should have been necessary to fetch you in,” + he said, apologetically. “My assistant will give you the book if you will + kindly sign it.” + </p> + <p> + The assistant dived beneath the counter, reappearing almost immediately + with a black volume and a pen and ink. The chemist was engrossed upon his + task; Tavernake's eyes were still riveted upon this woman, who seemed to + him the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in life. No one was watching + the girl. The chemist was the first to see her face, and that only in a + looking glass. He stopped in the act of mixing his drug and turned slowly + round. His expression was such that they all followed his eyes. The girl + was sitting up in her chair, with a sudden spot of color burning in her + cheeks, her fingers gripping the counter as though for support, her eyes + dilated, unnatural, burning in their white setting with an unholy fire. + The lady was the last to turn her head, and the bottle of eau-de-cologne + which she had taken up from the counter, slipped with a crash to the + floor. All expression seemed to pass from her face; the very life seemed + drawn from it. Those who were watching her saw suddenly an old woman + looking at something of which she was afraid. + </p> + <p> + The girl seemed to find an unnatural strength. She dragged herself up and + turned wildly to Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “Take me away,” she cried, in a low voice. “Take me away at once.” + </p> + <p> + The woman at the counter did not speak. Tavernake stepped quickly forward + and then hesitated. The girl was on her feet now and she clutched at his + arms. Her eyes besought him. + </p> + <p> + “You must take me away, please,” she begged, hoarsely. “I am well now—quite + well. I can walk.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake's lack of imagination stood him in good stead then. He simply + did what he was told, did it in perfectly mechanical fashion, without + asking any questions. With the girl leaning heavily upon his arm, he + stepped into the street and almost immediately into a passing taxicab + which he had hailed from the threshold of the shop. As he closed the door, + he glanced behind him. The woman was standing there, half turned towards + him, still with that strange, stony look upon her lifeless face. The + chemist was bending across the counter towards her, wondering, perhaps, if + another incident were to be drawn into his night's work. The + eau-de-cologne was running in a little stream across the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Where to, sir?” the taxicab driver asked Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” Tavernake repeated. + </p> + <p> + The girl was clinging to his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him to drive away from here,” she whispered, “to drive anywhere, but + away from here.” + </p> + <p> + “Drive straight on,” Tavernake directed, “along Fleet Street and up + Holborn. I will give you the address later on.” + </p> + <p> + The man changed his speed and their pace increased. Tavernake sat quite + still, dumfounded by these amazing happenings. The girl by his side was + clutching his arm, sobbing a little hysterically, holding him all the time + as though in terror. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. BREAKFAST WITH BEATRICE + </h2> + <p> + The girl, awakened, perhaps, by the passing of some heavy cart along the + street below, or by the touch of the sunbeam which lay across her pillow, + first opened her eyes and then, after a preliminary stare around, sat up + in bed. The events of the previous night slowly shaped themselves in her + mind. She remembered everything up to the commencement of that drive in + the taxicab. Sometime after that she must have fainted. And now—what + had become of her? Where was she? + </p> + <p> + She looked around her in ever-increasing surprise. Certainly it was the + strangest room she had ever been in. The floor was dusty and innocent of + any carpet; the window was bare and uncurtained. The walls were unpapered + but covered here and there with strange-looking plans, one of them taking + up nearly the whole side of the room—a very rough piece of work with + little dabs of blue paint here and there, and shadings and diagrams which + were absolutely unintelligible. She herself was lying upon a battered iron + bedstead, and she was wearing a very coarse nightdress. Her own clothes + were folded up and lay upon a piece of brown paper on the floor by the + side of the bed. To all appearance, the room was entirely unfurnished, + except that in the middle of it was a hideous papier mache screen. + </p> + <p> + After her first bewildered inspection of her surroundings, it was upon + this screen that her attention was naturally directed. Obviously it must + be there to conceal something. Very carefully she leaned out of bed until + she was able to see around the corner of it. Then her heart gave a little + jump and she was only just able to stifle an exclamation of fear. Some one + was sitting there—a man—sitting on a battered cane chair, + bending over a roll of papers which were stretched upon a rude deal table. + She felt her cheeks grow hot. It must be Tavernake! Where had he brought + her? What did his presence in the room mean? + </p> + <p> + The bed creaked heavily as she regained her former position. A voice came + to her from behind the screen. She knew it at once. It was Tavernake's. + </p> + <p> + “Are you awake?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered,—“yes, I am awake. Is that Mr. Tavernake? Where + am I, please?” + </p> + <p> + “First of all, are you better?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I am better,” she assured him, sitting up in bed and pulling the clothes + to her chin. “I am quite well now. Tell me at once where I am and what you + are doing over there.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to be terrified about,” Tavernake answered. “To all + effects and purposes, I am in another room. When I move to the door, as I + shall do directly, I shall drag the screen with me. I can promise you—” + </p> + <p> + “Please explain everything,” she begged, “quickly. I am most—uncomfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “At half-past twelve this morning,” Tavernake said, “I found myself alone + in a taxicab with you, without any luggage or any idea where to go to. To + make matters worse, you fainted. I tried two hotels but they refused to + take you in; they were probably afraid that you were going to be ill. Then + I thought of this room. I am employed, as you know, by a firm of estate + agents. I do a great deal of work on my own account, however, which I + prefer to do in secret, and unknown to any one. For that reason, I hired + this room a year ago and I come here most evenings to work. Sometimes I + stay late, so last month I bought a small bedstead and had it fixed up + here. There is a woman who comes in to clean the room. I went to her house + last night and persuaded her to come here. She undressed you and put you + to bed. I am sorry that my presence here distresses you, but it is a large + building and quite empty at night-time. I thought you might wake up and be + frightened, so I borrowed this screen from the woman and have been sitting + here.” + </p> + <p> + “What, all night?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” he answered. “The woman could not stop herself and this is + not a residential building at all. All the lower floors are let for + offices and warehouses, and there is no one else in the place until eight + o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + She put her hands to her head and sat quite still for a moment or two. It + was really hard to take everything in. + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you very sleepy?” she asked, irrelevantly. + </p> + <p> + “Not very,” he replied. “I dozed for an hour, a little time ago. Since + then I have been looking through some plans which interest me very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I get up?” she inquired, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “If you feel strong enough, please do,” he answered, with manifest relief. + “I shall move towards the door, dragging the screen in front of me. You + will find a brush and comb and some hairpins on your clothes. I could not + think of anything else to get for you, but, if you will dress, we will + walk to London Bridge Station, which is just across the way, and while I + order some breakfast you can go into the ladies' room and do your hair + properly. I did my best to get hold of a looking-glass, but it was quite + impossible.” + </p> + <p> + The girl's sense of humor was suddenly awake. She had hard work not to + scream. He had evidently thought out all these details in painstaking + fashion, one by one. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she said. “I will get up immediately, if you will do as you + say.” + </p> + <p> + He clutched the screen from the inside and dragged it towards the door. On + the threshold, he spoke to her once more. + </p> + <p> + “I shall sit upon the stairs just outside,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't be more than five minutes,” she assured him. + </p> + <p> + She sprang out of bed and dressed quickly. There was nothing beyond where + the screen had been except a table covered with plans, and a particularly + hard cane chair which she dragged over for her own use. As she dressed, + she began to realize how much this matter-of-fact, unimpressionable young + man had done for her during the last few hours. The reflection affected + her in a curious manner. She became afflicted with a shyness which she had + not felt when he was in the room. When at last she had finished her + toilette and opened the door, she was almost tongue-tied. He was sitting + on the top step, with his back against the landing, and his eyes were + closed. He opened them with a little start, however, as soon as he heard + her approach. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you have not been long,” he remarked. “I want to be at my + office at nine o'clock and I must go and have a bath somewhere. These + stairs are rather steep. Please walk carefully.” + </p> + <p> + She followed him in silence down three flights of stone steps. On each + landing there were names upon the doors—two firms of hop merchants, + a solicitor, and a commission agent. The ground floor was some sort of + warehouse, from which came a strong smell of leather. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake opened the outside door with a small key and they passed into + the street. + </p> + <p> + “London Bridge Station is just across the way,” he said. “The refreshment + room will be open and we can get some breakfast at once.” + </p> + <p> + “What time is it?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “About half-past seven.” + </p> + <p> + She walked by his side quite meekly, and although there were many things + which she was longing to say, she remained absolutely without the power of + speech. Except that he was looking a little crumpled, there was nothing + whatever in his appearance to indicate that he had been up all night. He + looked exactly as he had done on the previous day, he seemed even quite + unconscious that there was anything unusual in their relations. As soon as + they arrived at the station, he pointed to the ladies' waiting-room. + </p> + <p> + “If you will go in and arrange your hair there,” he said, “I will go and + order breakfast and have a shave. I will be back here in about twenty + minutes. You had better take this.” + </p> + <p> + He offered her a shilling and she accepted it without hesitation. As soon + as he had gone, however, she looked at the coin in her hand in blank + wonder. She had accepted it from him with perfect naturalness and without + even saying “Thank you!” With a queer little laugh, she pushed open the + swinging doors and made her way into the waiting-room. + </p> + <p> + In hardly more than a quarter of an hour she emerged, to find Tavernake + waiting for her. He had retied his tie, bought a fresh collar, had been + shaved. She, too, had improved her appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast is waiting this way,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + She followed him obediently and they sat down at a small table in the + station refreshment-room. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she asked, suddenly, “I must ask you something. Has + anything like this ever happened to you before?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” he assured her, with some emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to take everything so much as a matter of course,” she + protested. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know,” she replied, a little feebly. “Only—” + </p> + <p> + She found relief in a sudden and perfectly natural laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “that is better. I am glad that you feel like laughing.” + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact,” she declared, “I feel much more like crying. Don't + you know that you were very foolish last night? You ought to have left me + alone. Why didn't you? You would have saved yourself a great deal of + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded, as though that point of view did, in some degree, commend + itself to him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted, “I suppose I should. I do not, even now, understand + why I interfered. I can only remember that it didn't seem possible not to + at the time. I suppose one must have impulses,” he added, with a little + frown. + </p> + <p> + “The reflection,” she remarked, helping herself to another roll, “seems to + annoy you.” + </p> + <p> + “It does,” he confessed. “I do not like to feel impelled to do anything + the reason for which is not apparent. I like to do just the things which + seem likely to work out best for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “How you must hate me!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not hate you,” he replied, “but, on the other hand, you have + certainly been a trouble to me. First of all, I told a falsehood at the + boarding-house, and I prefer always to tell the truth when I can. Then I + followed you out of the house, which I disliked doing very much, and I + seem to have spent a considerable portion of the time since, in your + company, under somewhat extraordinary circumstances. I do not understand + why I have done this.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is because you are a very good-hearted person,” she + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “But I am not,” he assured her, calmly. “I am nothing of the sort. I have + very little sympathy with good-hearted people. I think the world goes very + much better when every one looks after himself, and the people who are not + competent to do so go to the wall.” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds a trifle selfish,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is. I have an idea that if I could phrase it differently it + would become philosophy.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she suggested, smiling across the table at him, “you have + really done all this because you like me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure that it is not that,” he declared. “I feel an interest in + you for which I cannot account, but it does not seem to me to be a + personal one. Last night,” he continued, “when I was sitting there + waiting, I tried to puzzle it all out. I came to the conclusion that it + was because you represent something which I do not understand. I am very + curious and it always interests me to learn. I believe that must be the + secret of my interest in you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very complimentary,” she told him, mockingly. “I wonder what + there is in the world which I could teach so superior a person as Mr. + Tavernake?” + </p> + <p> + He took her question quite seriously. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what there is myself,” he answered. “And yet, in a way, I think + I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Your imagination should come to the rescue,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I have no imagination,” he declared, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + They were silent for several minutes; she was still studying him. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder you don't ask me any questions about myself,” she said, + abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “There is only one thing,” he answered, “concerning which I am in the + least curious. Last night in the chemist's shop—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't!” she begged him, with suddenly whitening face. “Don't speak of + that!” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he replied, indifferently. “I thought that you were rather + inviting my questions. You need not be afraid of any more. I really am not + curious about personal matters; I find that my own life absorbs all my + interests.” + </p> + <p> + They had finished breakfast and he paid the bill. She began to put on her + gloves. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever happens to me,” she said, “I shall never forget that you have + been very kind.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated for a moment and then she seemed to realize more completely + how really kind he had been. There had been a certain crude delicacy about + his actions which she had under-appreciated. She leaned towards him. There + was nothing left this morning of that disfiguring sullenness. Her mouth + was soft; her eyes were bright, almost appealing. If Tavernake had been a + judge of woman's looks, he must certainly have found her attractive. + </p> + <p> + “I am very, very grateful to you,” she continued, holding out her hand. “I + shall always remember how kind you were. Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you didn't imagine that you had taken the care of me upon your + shoulders for the rest of your life?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't imagine that,” he answered. “At the same time, what plans + have you made? Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I shall think of something,” she declared, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + He caught the gleam in her eyes, the sudden hopelessness which fell like a + cloud upon her face. He spoke promptly and with decision. + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact,” he remarked, “you do not know yourself. You are + just going to drift out of this place and very likely find your way to a + seat on the Embankment again.” + </p> + <p> + Her lips quivered. She had tried to be brave but it was hard. + </p> + <p> + “Not necessarily,” she replied. “Something may turn up.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned a little across the table towards her. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” he said, deliberately, “I will make a proposition to you. It has + come to me during the last few minutes. I am tired of the boarding-house + and I wish to leave it. The work which I do at night is becoming more and + more important. I should like to take two rooms somewhere. If I take a + third, would you care to call yourself what I called you to the charwoman + last night—my sister? I should expect you to look after the meals + and my clothes, and help me in certain other ways. I cannot give you much + of a salary,” he continued, “but you would have an opportunity during the + daytime of looking out for some work, if that is what you want, and you + would at least have a roof and plenty to eat and drink.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him in blank amazement. It was obvious that his proposition + was entirely honest. + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Tavernake,” she protested, “you forget that I am not really your + sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Does that matter?” he asked, without flinching. “I think you understand + the sort of person I am. You would have nothing to fear from any + admiration on my part—or anything of that sort,” he added, with some + show of clumsiness. “Those things do not come in my life. I am ambitious + to get on, to succeed and become wealthy. Other things I do not even think + about.” + </p> + <p> + She was speechless. After a short pause, he went on. + </p> + <p> + “I am proposing this arrangement as much for my own sake as for yours. I + am very well read and I know most of what there is to be known in my + profession. But there are other things concerning which I am ignorant. + Some of these things I believe you could teach me.” + </p> + <p> + Still speechless, she sat and looked at him for several moments. Outside, + the station now was filled with a hurrying throng on their way to the + day's work. Engines were shrieking, bells ringing, the press of footsteps + was unceasing. In the dark, ill-ventilated room itself there was the + rattle of crockery, the yawning of discontented-looking young women behind + the bar, young women with their hair still in curl-papers, as yet + unprepared for their weak little assaults upon the good-nature or + susceptibility of their customers. A queer corner of life it seemed. She + looked at her companion and realized how fragmentary was her knowledge of + him. There was nothing to be gathered from his face. He seemed to have no + expression. He was simply waiting for her reply, with his thoughts already + half engrossed upon the business of the day. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” she began, “I—” + </p> + <p> + He came back from his momentary wandering and looked at her. She suddenly + altered the manner of her speech. It was a strange proposition, perhaps, + but this was one of the strangest of men. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite willing to try it,” she decided. “Will you tell me where I can + meet you later on?” + </p> + <p> + “I have an hour and a half for luncheon at one o'clock,” he said. “Meet me + exactly at the southeast corner of Trafalgar Square. Would you like a + little money?” he added, rising. + </p> + <p> + “I have plenty, thank you,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + He laid half-a-crown upon the table and made an entry in a small + memorandum book which he drew from his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You had better keep this,” he said, “in case you want it. I am going to + leave you alone here. You can find your way anywhere, I am sure, and I am + in a hurry. At one o'clock, remember. I hope you will still be feeling + better.” + </p> + <p> + He put on his hat and went away without a backward glance. Beatrice sat in + her chair and watched him out of sight. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. INTRODUCING Mrs. WENHAM GARDNER + </h2> + <p> + A very distinguished client was engaging the attention of Mr. Dowling, + Senior, of Messrs. Dowling, Spence & Company, auctioneers and estate + agents, whose offices were situated in Waterloo Place, Pall Mall. Mr. + Dowling was a fussy little man of between fifty and sixty years, who spent + most of his time playing golf, and who, although he studiously contrived + to ignore the fact, had long since lost touch with the details of his + business. Consequently, in the absence of Mr. Dowling, Junior, who had + developed a marked partiality for a certain bar in the locality, Tavernake + was hastily summoned to the rescue from another part of the building, by a + small boy violently out of breath. + </p> + <p> + “Never see the governor in such a fuss,” the latter declared, + confidentially, “She's asking no end of questions and he don't know a + thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the lady?” Tavernake asked, on the way downstairs. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't hear her name,” the boy replied. “She's all right, though, I can + tell you—a regular slap-up beauty. Such a motor-car, too! Flowers + and tables and all sorts of things inside. By Jove, won't the governor + tear his hair if she goes before you get there!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake quickened his steps and in a few moments knocked at the door of + the private office and entered. + </p> + <p> + His chief welcomed him with a gesture of relief. The distinguished client + of the firm, whose attention he was endeavoring to engage, had glanced + toward the newcomer, at his first appearance, with an air of somewhat + bored unconcern. Her eyes, however, did not immediately leave his face. On + the contrary, from the moment of his entrance she watched him steadfastly. + Tavernake, stolid, unruffled, at that time without comprehension, + approached the desk. + </p> + <p> + “This is—er—Mr. Tavernake, our manager,” Mr. Dowling + announced, obsequiously. “In the absence of my son, he is in charge of the + letting department. I have no doubt that he will be able to suggest + something suitable. Tavernake,” he continued, “this lady,”—he + glanced at a card in front of him—“Mrs. Wenham Gardner of New York, + is looking for a town house, and has been kind enough to favor us with an + inquiry.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake made no immediate reply. Mr. Dowling was shortsighted, and in + any case it would never have occurred to him to associate nervousness, or + any form of emotion, with his responsible manager. The beautiful lady + leaned back in her chair. Her lips were parted in a slight but very + curious smile, her fingers supported her cheek, her eyelids were + contracted as she looked into his face. Tavernake felt that their + recognition was mutual. Once more he was back again in the tragic + atmosphere of that chemist's shop, with Beatrice, half fainting, in his + arms, the beautiful lady turned to stone. It was an odd tableau, that, so + vividly imprinted upon his memory that it was there before him at this + very moment. There was mystery in this woman's eyes, mystery and something + else. + </p> + <p> + “I don't seem to have come across anything down here which—er—particularly + attracts Mrs.—Mrs. Wenham Gardner,” Mr. Dowling went on, taking up a + little sheaf of papers from the desk. “I thought, perhaps, that the + Bryanston Square house might have suited, but it seems that it is too + small, far too small. Mrs. Gardner is used to entertaining, and has + explained to me that she has a great many friends always coming and going + from the other side of the water. She requires, apparently, twelve + bedrooms, besides servants' quarters.” + </p> + <p> + “Your list is scarcely up to date, sir,” Tavernake reminded him. “If the + rent is of no particular object, there is Grantham House.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowling's face was suddenly illuminated. + </p> + <p> + “Grantham House!” he exclaimed. “Precisely! Now I declare that it had + absolutely slipped my memory for the moment—only for the moment, + mind—that we have just had placed upon our books one of the most + desirable mansions in the west end of London. A most valued client, too, + one whom we are most anxious to oblige. Dear, dear me! It is very + fortunate—very fortunate indeed that I happened to think of it, + especially as it seems that no one had had the sense to place it upon my + list. Tavernake, get the plans at once and show them to—er—to + Mrs. Gardner.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake crossed the room in silence, opened a drawer, and returned with + a stiff roll of papers, which he spread carefully out in front of this + unexpected client. She spoke then for the first time since he had entered + the room. Her voice was low and marvelously sweet. There was very little + of the American accent about it, but something in the intonation, + especially toward the end of her sentences, was just a trifle un-English. + </p> + <p> + “Where is this Grantham House?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Within a stone's throw of Grosvenor Square,” Tavernake answered, briskly. + “It is really one of the most central spots in the west end. If you will + allow me!” + </p> + <p> + For the next few minutes he was very fluent indeed. With pencil in hand, + he explained the plans, dwelt on the advantages of the location, and from + the very reserve of his praise created an impression that the house he was + describing was the one absolutely perfect domicile in the whole of London. + </p> + <p> + “Can I look over the place?” she asked, when he had finished. + </p> + <p> + “By all means,” Mr. Dowling declared, “by all means. I was on the point of + suggesting it. It will be by far the most satisfactory proceeding. You + will not be disappointed, my dear madam, I can assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to do so, if I may, without delay,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “There is no opportunity like the present,” Mr. Dowling replied. “If you + will permit me,” he added, rising, “it will give me the greatest pleasure + to escort you personally. My engagements for the rest of the day happen to + be unimportant. Tavernake, let me have the keys of the rooms that are + locked up. The caretaker, of course, is there in possession.” + </p> + <p> + The beautiful visitor rose to her feet, and even that slight movement was + accomplished with a grace unlike anything which Tavernake had ever seen + before. + </p> + <p> + “I could not think of troubling you so far, Mr. Dowling,” she protested. + “It is not in the least necessary for you to come yourself. Your manager + can, perhaps, spare me a few minutes. He seems to be so thoroughly posted + in all the details,” she added, apologetically, as she noticed the cloud + on Mr. Dowling's brow. + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like, of course,” he declared. “Mr. Tavernake can go, by all + means. Now I come to think of it, it certainly would be inconvenient for + me to be away from the office for more than a few minutes. Mr. Tavernake + has all the details at his fingers' ends, and I only hope, Mrs. Gardner, + that he will be able to persuade you to take the house. Our client,” he + added, with a bow, “would, I am sure, be delighted to hear that we had + secured for him so distinguished a tenant.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled at him, a delightful mixture of graciousness and condescension. + </p> + <p> + “You are very good,” she answered. “The house sounds rather large for me + but it depends so much upon circumstances. If you are ready, Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “Tavernake,” he told her. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she continued, “my car is waiting outside and we might go + on at once.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed and held open the door for her, an office which he performed a + little awkwardly. Mr. Dowling himself escorted her out on to the pavement. + Tavernake stopped behind to get his hat, and passing out a moment + afterwards, would have seated himself in front beside the chauffeur but + that she held the door of the car open and beckoned to him. + </p> + <p> + “Will you come inside, please?” she insisted. “There are one or two + questions which I might ask you as we go along. Please direct the + chauffeur.” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed without a word; the car glided off. As they swung round the + first corner, she leaned forward from among the cushions of her seat and + looked at him. Then Tavernake was conscious of new things. As though by + inspiration, he knew that her visit to the office of Messrs. Dowling, + Spence & Company had been no chance one. + </p> + <p> + She remembered him, remembered him as the companion of Beatrice during + that strange, brief meeting. It was an incomprehensible world, this, into + which he had wandered. The woman's face had lost her languid, gracious + expression. There was something there almost akin to tragedy. Her fingers + fell upon his arm and her touch was no light one. She was gripping him + almost fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she said, “I have a memory for faces which seldom fails + me. I have seen you before quite lately. You remember where, of course. + Tell me the truth quickly, please.” + </p> + <p> + The words seemed to leap from her lips. Beautiful and young though she + undoubtedly was, her intense seriousness had suddenly aged her face. + Tavernake was bewildered. He, too, was conscious of a curious emotional + disturbance. + </p> + <p> + “The truth? What truth do you mean?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It was you whom I saw with Beatrice!” + </p> + <p> + “You saw me one night about three weeks ago,” he admitted slowly. “I was + in a chemist's shop in the Strand. You were signing his book for a + sleeping draught, I think.” + </p> + <p> + She shivered all over. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” she cried. “Of course, I remember all about it. The young lady + who was with you—what was she doing there? Where is she now?” + </p> + <p> + “The young lady was my sister,” Tavernake answered stiffly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wenham Gardner looked, for a moment, as though she would have struck + him. + </p> + <p> + “You need not lie to me!” she exclaimed. “It is not worth while. Tell me + where you met her, why you were with her at all in that intimate fashion, + and where she is now!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake realized at once that so far as this woman was concerned, the + fable of his relationship with Beatrice was hopeless. She knew! + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he replied, “I made the acquaintance of the young lady with whom + I was that evening, at the boarding-house where we both lived.” + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing in the chemist's shop?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “The young lady had been ill,” he proceeded deliberately, wondering how + much to tell. “She had been taken very ill indeed. She was just recovering + when you entered.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she now?” the woman asked eagerly. “Is she still at that + boarding-house of which you spoke?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Her fingers gripped his arm once more. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you answer me always in monosyllables? Don't you understand that + you must tell me everything that you know about her. You must tell me + where I can find her, at once.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake remained silent. The woman's voice had still that note of + wonderful sweetness, but she had altogether lost her air of complete and + aristocratic indifference. She was a very altered person now from the + distinguished client who had first enlisted his services. For some reason + or other, he knew that she was suffering from a terrible anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” he said at last, “whether I can do as you ask.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” she exclaimed sharply. + </p> + <p> + “The young lady,” he continued, “seemed, on the occasion to which you have + referred, to be particularly anxious to avoid recognition. She hurried out + of the place without speaking to you, and she has avoided the subject ever + since. I do not know what her motives may have been, but I think that I + should like to ask her first before I tell you where she is to be found.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wenham Gardner leaned towards him. It was certainly the first time + that a woman in her apparent rank of life had looked upon Tavernake in + such a manner. Her forehead was a little wrinkled, her lips were parted, + her eyes were pathetically, delightfully eloquent. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake, you must not—you must not refuse me,” she pleaded. + “If you only knew the importance of it, you would not hesitate for a + moment. This is no idle curiosity on my part. I have reasons, very serious + reasons indeed, for wishing to discover that poor girl's whereabouts at + once. There is a possible danger of which she must be warned. No one can + do it except myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you her friend or her enemy?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you ask such a question?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am only going by her expression when she saw you come into the + chemist's shop,” Tavernake persisted doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “It is a cruel suggestion, that,” the woman cried. “I wish to be her + friend, I am her friend. If I could only tell you everything, you would + understand at once what a terrible situation, what a hideous quandary I am + in.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Tavernake paused for a few moments. He was never a quick thinker + and the situation was certainly an embarrassing one for him. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he replied at length, “I beg that you will tell me nothing. The + young lady of whom you have spoken permits me to call myself her friend, + and what she has not told me herself I do not wish to learn from others. I + will tell her of this meeting with you, and if it is her desire, I will + bring you her address myself within a few hours. I cannot do more than + that.” + </p> + <p> + Her face was suddenly cold and hard. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you will not!” she exclaimed angrily. “You are obstinate. I + do not know how you dare to refuse what I ask.” + </p> + <p> + The car had come to a standstill. He stepped out on to the pavement. + </p> + <p> + “This is Grantham House, madam,” he announced. “Will you descend?” + </p> + <p> + He heard her draw a quick breath between her teeth and he caught a gleam + in her eyes which made him feel vaguely uneasy. She was very angry indeed. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think that it is necessary for me to do so,” she said frigidly. + “I do not like the look of the house at all. I do not believe that it will + suit me.” + </p> + <p> + “At least, now that you are here,” he protested, “you will, if you please, + go over it. I should like you to see the ballroom. The decorations are + supposed to be quite exceptional.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated for a moment and then, with a slight shrug of the shoulders, + she yielded. There was a note in his tone not exactly insistent, and yet + dominant, a note which she obeyed although secretly she wondered at + herself for doing so. They passed inside the house and she followed him + from room to room, leaving him to do all the talking. She seemed very + little interested but every now and then she asked a languid question. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think that it is in the least likely to suit me,” she decided at + last. “It is all very magnificent, of course, but I consider that the rent + is exorbitant.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake regarded her thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” he said, “that our client might be disposed to consider some + reduction, in the event of your seriously entertaining taking the house. + If you like, I will see him on the subject. I feel sure that the amount I + have mentioned could be reduced, if the other conditions were + satisfactory.” + </p> + <p> + “There would be no harm in your doing so,” she assented. “How soon can you + come and let me know?” + </p> + <p> + “I might be able to ring you up this evening; certainly to-morrow + morning,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I will not speak upon the telephone,” she declared. “I only allow it in + my rooms under protest. You must come and tell me what your client says. + When can you see him?” + </p> + <p> + “It is doubtful whether I shall be able to find him this evening,” he + replied. “It would probably be to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You might go and try at once,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + He was a little surprised. + </p> + <p> + “You are really interested in the matter, then?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” she told him, “of course I am interested. I want you to come + and see me directly you have heard. It is important. Supposing you are + able to find your client to-night, shall you have seen the young lady + before then?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid not,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “You must try,” she begged, laying her fingers upon his shoulder. “Mr. + Tavernake, do please try. You can't realize what all this anxiety means to + me. I am not at all well and I am seriously worried about—about that + young lady. I tell you that I must have an interview with her. It is not + for my sake so much as hers. She must be warned.” + </p> + <p> + “Warned?” Tavernake repeated. “I really don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you don't!” she exclaimed impatiently. “Why should you + understand? I don't want to offend you, Mr. Tavernake,” she went on + hurriedly. “I would like to treat you quite frankly. It really isn't your + place to make difficulties like this. What is this young lady to you that + you should presume to consider yourself her guardian?” + </p> + <p> + “She is a boarding-house acquaintance,” Tavernake confessed, “nothing + more.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why did you tell me, only a moment ago, that she was your sister?” + Mrs. Gardner demanded. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake threw open the door before which they had been standing. + </p> + <p> + “This,” he said, “is the famous dancing gallery. Lord Clumber is quite + willing to allow the pictures to remain, and I may tell you that they are + insured for over sixty thousand pounds. There is no finer dancing room + than this in all London.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes swept around it carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt,” she admitted coldly, “that it is very beautiful. I + prefer to continue our discussion.” + </p> + <p> + “The dining-room,” he went on, “is almost as large. Lord Clumber tells us + that he has frequently entertained eighty guests for dinner. The system of + ventilation in this room is, as you see, entirely modern.” + </p> + <p> + She took him by the arm and led him to a seat at the further end of the + apartment. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she said, making an obvious attempt to control her + temper, “you seem like a very sensible young man, if you will allow me to + say so, and I want to convince you that it is your duty to answer my + questions. In the first place—don't be offended, will you?—but + I cannot possibly see what interest you and that young lady can have in + one another. You belong, to put it baldly, to altogether different social + stations, and it is not easy to imagine what you could have in common.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, but Tavernake had nothing to say. His gift of silence amounted + sometimes almost to genius. She leaned so close to him while she waited in + vain for his reply, that the ermine about her neck brushed his cheek. The + perfume of her clothes and hair, the pleading of her deep violet-blue + eyes, all helped to keep him tongue-tied. Nothing of this sort had ever + happened to him before. He did not in the least understand what it could + possibly mean. + </p> + <p> + “I am speaking to you now, Mr. Tavernake,” she continued earnestly, “for + your own good. When you tell the young lady, as you have promised to this + evening, that you have seen me, and that I am very, very anxious to find + out where she is, she will very likely go down on her knees and beg you to + give me no information whatever about her. She will do her best to make + you promise to keep us apart. And yet that is all because she does not + understand. Believe me, it is better that you should tell me the truth. + You cannot know her very well, Mr. Tavernake, but she is not very wise, + that young lady. She is very obstinate, and she has some strange ideas. It + is not well for her that she should be left in the world alone. You must + see that for yourself, Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + “She seems a very sensible young lady,” he declared slowly. “I should have + thought that she would have been old enough to know for herself what she + wanted and what was best for her.” + </p> + <p> + The woman at his side wrung her hands with a little gesture of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why can't I make you understand!” she exclaimed, the emotion once + more quivering in her tone. “How can I—how can I possibly make you + believe me? Listen. Something has happened of which she does not know—something + terrible. It is absolutely necessary, in her own interests as well as + mine, that I see her, and that very shortly.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall tell her exactly what you say,” Tavernake answered apparently + unmoved. “Perhaps it would be as well now if we went on to view the + sleeping apartments.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about the sleeping apartments!” she cried quickly. “You must + do more than tell her. You can't believe that I want to bring harm upon + any one. Do I look like it? Have I the appearance of a person of evil + disposition? You can be that young lady's best friend, Mr. Tavernake, if + you will. Take me to her now, this minute. Believe me, if you do that, you + will never regret it as long as you live.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake studied the pattern of the parquet floor for several moments. It + was a difficult problem, this. Putting his own extraordinary sensations + into the background, he was face to face with something which he did not + comprehend, and he disliked the position intensely. After all, delay + seemed safest. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he protested, “a few hours more or less can make but little + difference.” + </p> + <p> + “That is for me to judge!” she exclaimed. “You say that because you do not + understand. A few hours may make all the difference in the world.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you exactly what is in my mind,” he said, deliberately. “The + young lady was terrified when she saw you that night accidentally in the + chemist's shop. She almost dragged me away, and although she was almost + fainting when we reached the taxicab, her greatest and chief anxiety was + that we should get away before you could follow us. I cannot forget this. + Until I have received her permission, therefore, to disclose her + whereabouts, we will, if you please, speak of something else.” + </p> + <p> + He rose to his feet and glancing around was just in time to see the change + in the face of his companion. That eloquently pleading smile had died away + from her lips, her teeth were clenched. She looked like a woman struggling + hard to control some overwhelming passion. Without the smile her lips + seemed hard, even cruel. There were evil things shining out of her eyes. + Tavernake felt chilled, almost afraid. + </p> + <p> + “We will see the rest of the house,” she declared coldly. + </p> + <p> + They went on from room to room. Tavernake, recovering himself rapidly, + master of his subject, was fluent and practical. The woman listened, with + only a terse remark here and there. Once more they stood in the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything else you would like to see?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” she replied, “but there is one thing more I have to say.” + </p> + <p> + He waited in stolid silence. + </p> + <p> + “Only a week ago,” she went on, looking him in the face, “I told a man who + is what you call, I think, an inquiry agent, that I would give a hundred + pounds if he could discover that young woman for me within twenty-four + hours.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake started, and the smile came back to the lips of Mrs. Wenham + Gardner. After all, perhaps she had found the way! + </p> + <p> + “A hundred pounds is a great deal of money,” he said thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Not so very much,” she replied. “About a fortnight's rent of this house, + Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the offer still open?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She looked into his eyes, and her face had once more the beautiful + ingenuousness of a child. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she said, “the offer is still open. Get into the car with + me and drive back to my rooms at the Milan Court, and I will give you a + cheque for a hundred pounds at once. It will be very easily earned and you + may just as well take it, for now I know where you are employed, I could + have you followed day by day until I discover for myself what you are so + foolishly concealing. Be reasonable, Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stood quite still. His arms were folded, he was looking out of + the hall window at the smoky vista of roofs and chimneys. From the soles + of his ready-made boots to his ill-brushed hair, he was a commonplace + young man. A hundred pounds was to him a vast sum of money. It represented + a year's strenuous savings, perhaps more. The woman who watched him + imagined that he was hesitating. Tavernake, however, had no such thought + in his mind. He stood there instead, wondering what strange thing had come + to him that the mention of a hundred pounds, delightful sum though it was, + never tempted him for a single second. What this woman had said might be + true. She would probably be able to discover the address easily enough + without his help. Yet no such reflection seemed to make the least + difference. From the days of his earliest boyhood, from the time when he + had flung himself into the struggle, money had always meant much to him, + money not for its own sake but as the key to those things which he coveted + in life. Yet at that moment something stronger seemed to have asserted + itself. + </p> + <p> + “You will come?” she whispered, passing her arm through his. “We will be + there in less than five minutes, and I will write you the cheque before + you tell me anything.” + </p> + <p> + He moved towards the door indeed, but he drew a little away from her. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he said, “I am sorry to seem so obstinate, but I thought I had + made you understand some time ago. I do not feel at liberty to tell you + anything without that young lady's permission.” + </p> + <p> + “You refuse?” she cried, incredulously. “You refuse a hundred pounds?” + </p> + <p> + He opened the door of the car. He seemed scarcely to have heard her. + </p> + <p> + “At about eleven o'clock to-morrow morning,” he announced, “I shall have + the pleasure of calling upon you. I trust that you will have decided to + take the house.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake sat a few hours later at his evening meal in the tiny + sitting-room of an apartment house in Chelsea. He wore a black tie, and + although he had not yet aspired to a dinner coat, the details of his + person and toilet showed signs of a new attention. Opposite to him was + Beatrice. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she asked, as soon as the small maid-servant who brought in + their first dish had disappeared, “what have you been doing all day? Have + you been letting houses or surveying land or book-keeping, or have you + been out to Marston Rise?” + </p> + <p> + It was her customary question, this. She really took an interest in his + work. + </p> + <p> + “I have been attending a rich American client,” he announced, “a + compatriot of your own. I went with her to Grantham House in her own + motor-car. I believe she thinks of taking it.” + </p> + <p> + “American!” Beatrice remarked. “What was her name?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked up from his plate across the little table, across the + bowl of simple flowers which was its sole decoration. + </p> + <p> + “She called herself Mrs. Wenham Garner!” + </p> + <p> + Away like a flash went the new-found peace in the girl's face. She caught + at her breath, her fingers gripped the table in front of her. Once more + she was as he had known her first—pale, with great terrified eyes + shining out of a haggard face. + </p> + <p> + “She has been to you,” Beatrice gasped, “for a house? You are sure?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure,” Tavernake declared, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “You recognized her?” + </p> + <p> + He assented gravely. + </p> + <p> + “It was the woman who stood in the chemist's shop that night, signing her + name in a book,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He did not apologize in any way for the shock he had given her. He had + done it deliberately. From that very first morning, when they had + breakfasted together at London Bridge, he had felt that he deserved her + confidence, and in a sense it was a grievance with him that she had + withheld it. + </p> + <p> + “Did she recognize you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted. “I was sent for into the office and found her there + with the chief. I felt sure that she recognized me from the first, and + when she agreed to look at Grantham House, she insisted upon it that I + should accompany her. While we were in the motor-car, she asked me about + you. She wished for your address.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you give it to her?” the girl cried, breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “No; I said that I must consult you first.” + </p> + <p> + She drew a little sigh of relief. Nevertheless, she was looking white and + shaken. + </p> + <p> + “Did she say what she wanted me for?” + </p> + <p> + “She was very mysterious,” Tavernake answered. “She spoke of some danger + of which you knew nothing. Before I came away, she offered me a hundred + pounds to let her know where you were.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “That is just like Elizabeth,” she declared. “You must have made her very + angry. When she wants anything, she wants it very badly indeed, and she + will never believe that every person has not his price. Money means + everything to her. If she had it, she would buy, buy, buy all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “On the face of it,” Tavernake remarked, soberly, “her offer seemed rather + an absurd one. If she is in earnest, if she is really so anxious to + discover your whereabouts, she will certainly be able to do so without my + help.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure,” Beatrice replied. “London is a great hiding place.” + </p> + <p> + “A private detective,” he began,— + </p> + <p> + Beatrice shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think,” she said, “that Elizabeth will care to employ a private + detective. Tell me, have you to see her upon this business again?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to her flat at the Milan Court to-morrow morning at eleven + o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice leaned back in her chair. Presently she recommenced her dinner. + She had the air of one to whom a respite has been granted. Tavernake, in a + way, began to resent this continued silence of hers. He had certainly + hoped that she would at least have gone so far as to explain her anxiety + to keep her whereabouts secret. + </p> + <p> + “You must remember,” he went on, after a short pause, “that I am in a + somewhat peculiar position with regard to you, Beatrice. I know so little + that I do not even know how to answer in your interests such questions as + Mrs. Wenham Gardner asked me. I am not complaining, but is this state of + absolute ignorance necessary?” + </p> + <p> + A new thought seemed to come to Beatrice. She looked at her companion + curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she asked, “what did you think of Mrs. Wenham Gardner?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake answered deliberately, and after a moment's reflection. + </p> + <p> + “I thought her,” he said, “one of the most beautiful women I have ever + seen in my life. That is not saying very much, perhaps, but to me it meant + a good deal. She was exceedingly gracious and her interest in you seemed + quite real and even affectionate. I do not understand why you should wish + to hide from such a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “You found her attractive?” Beatrice persisted. + </p> + <p> + “I found her very attractive indeed,” Tavernake admitted, without + hesitation. “She had an air with her. She was quite different from all the + women I have ever met at the boarding-house or anywhere else. She has a + face which reminded me somehow of the Madonnas you took me to see in the + National Gallery the other day.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice shivered slightly. For some reason, his remark seemed to have + distressed her. + </p> + <p> + “I am very, very sorry,” she declared, “that Elizabeth ever came to your + office. I want you to promise me, Leonard, that you will be careful + whenever you are with her.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Careful!” he repeated. “She isn't likely to be even civil to me tomorrow + when I tell her that I have seen you and I refuse to give her your + address. Careful, indeed! What has a poor clerk in a house-agent's office + to fear from such a personage?” + </p> + <p> + The servant had reappeared with their second and last course. For a few + moments they spoke of casual subjects. Afterwards, however, Tavernake + asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” he said, “we are hoping to let Grantham House to Mrs. Wenham + Gardner. I suppose she must be very wealthy?” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice looked at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you come to me for information?” she demanded. “I suppose that she + brought you references?” + </p> + <p> + “We haven't quite got to that stage yet,” he answered. “Somehow or other, + from her manner of talking and general appearance, I do not think that + either Mr. Dowling or I doubted her financial position.” + </p> + <p> + “I should never have thought you so credulous a person,” remarked + Beatrice, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was genuinely disturbed. His business instincts were aroused. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really mean that this Mrs. Wenham Gardner is not a person of + substance?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “She is the wife of a man who had the reputation of being very wealthy,” + she replied. “She has no money of her own, I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “She still lives with her husband, I suppose?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice closed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I know very little about her,” she declared. “Last time I heard, he had + disappeared, gone away, or something of the sort.” + </p> + <p> + “And she has no money,” Tavernake persisted, “except what she gets from + him? No settlement, even, or anything of that sort?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all,” Beatrice answered. + </p> + <p> + “This is very bad news,” Tavernake remarked, thinking gloomily of his + wasted day. “It will be a great disappointment to Mr. Dowling. Why, her + motor-car was magnificent, and she talked as though money were no object + at all. I suppose you are quite sure of what you are saying?” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to know,” she answered, grimly, “for she is my sister.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake remained quite motionless for a minute, without speech; it was + his way of showing surprise. When he was sure that he had grasped the + import of her words, he spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “Your sister!” he repeated. “There is a likeness, of course. You are dark + and she is fair, but there is a likeness. That would account,” he + continued, “for her anxiety to find you.” + </p> + <p> + “It also accounts,” Beatrice replied, with a little break of the lips, + “for my anxiety that she should not find me. Leonard,” she added, touching + his hand for a moment with hers, “I wish that I could tell you everything, + but there are things behind, things so terrible, that even to you, my dear + brother, I could not speak of them.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake rose to his feet and lit a cigarette—a new habit with him, + while Beatrice busied herself with a small coffee-making machine. He sat + in an easy-chair and smoked slowly. He was still wearing his ready-made + clothes, but his collar was of the fashionable shape, his tie well chosen + and neatly adjusted. He seemed somehow to have developed. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he asked, “what am I to tell your sister to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + She shivered as she set his coffee-cup down by his side. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her, if you will, that I am well and not in want,” she answered. + “Tell her, too, that I refuse to send my address. Tell her that the one + aim of my life is to keep the knowledge of my whereabouts a secret from + her.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake relapsed into silence. He was thinking. Mysteries had no + attraction for him—he loathed them. Against this one especially he + felt a distinct grudge. Nevertheless, some instinct forbade his + questioning the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Apart from more personal matters, then,” he asked after some time, “you + would not advise me to enter into any business negotiations with this + lady?” + </p> + <p> + “You must not think of it,” Beatrice replied, firmly. “So far as money is + concerned, Elizabeth has no conscience whatever. The things she wants in + life she will have somehow, but it is all the time at other people's + expense. Some day she will have to pay for it.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake sighed. + </p> + <p> + “It is very unfortunate,” he declared. “The commission on the letting of + Grantham House would have been worth having.” + </p> + <p> + “After all, it is only your firm's loss,” she reminded him. + </p> + <p> + “It does not appeal to me like that,” he continued. “So long as I am + manager for Dowling & Spence, I feel these things personally. However, + that does not matter. I am afraid it is a disagreeable subject for you, + and we will not talk about it any longer.” + </p> + <p> + She lit a cigarette with a little gesture of relief. She came once more to + his side. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she said, “I know that I am treating you badly in telling you + nothing, but it is simply because I do not want to descend to half truths. + I should like to tell you all or nothing. At present I cannot tell you + all.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he replied, “I am quite content to leave it with you to do as + you think best.” + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she continued, “of course you think me unreasonable. I can't + help it. There are things between my sister and myself the knowledge of + which is a constant nightmare to me. During the last few months of my life + it has grown to be a perfect terror. It sent me into hiding at Blenheim + House, it reconciled me even to the decision I came to that night on the + Embankment. I had decided that sooner than go back, sooner than ask help + from her or any one connected with her, I would do what I tried to do the + time when you saved my life.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked at her wonderingly. She was, indeed, under the spell of + some deep emotion. Her memory seemed to have carried her back into another + world, somewhere far away from this dingy little sitting-room which they + two were sharing together, back into a world where life and death were + matters of small moment, where the great passions were unchained, and men + and women moved among the naked things of life. Almost he felt the thrill + of it. It was something new to him, the touch of a magic finger upon his + eyelids. Then the moment passed and he was himself again, matter-of-fact, + prosaic. + </p> + <p> + “Let us dismiss the subject finally,” he said. “I must see your sister on + business to-morrow, but it shall be for the last time.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” she murmured, “that you will be wise.” + </p> + <p> + He crossed the room and returned with a newspaper. + </p> + <p> + “I saw your music in the hall as I came in,” he remarked. “Are you singing + to-night?” + </p> + <p> + The question was entirely in his ordinary tone. It brought her back to the + world of every-day things as nothing else could have done. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; isn't it luck?” she told him. “Three in one week. I only heard an + hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + “A city dinner?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Something of the sort,” she replied. “I am to be at the Whitehall Rooms + at ten o'clock. If you are tired, Leonard, please let me go alone. I + really do not mind. I can get a 'bus to the door, there and back again.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not tired,” he declared. “To tell you the truth, I scarcely know + what it is to be tired. I shall go with you, of course.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with a momentary admiration of his powerful frame, his + strong, forceful face. + </p> + <p> + “It seems too bad,” she remarked, “after a long day's work to drag you out + again.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I really like to come,” he assured her. “Besides,” he added, after a + moment's pause, “I like to hear you sing.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if you mean that?” she asked, looking at him curiously. “I have + watched you once or twice when I have been singing to you. Do you really + care for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I do. How can you doubt it? I do not,” he continued, slowly, + “understand music, or anything of that sort, of course, any more than I do + the pictures you take me to see, and some of the books you talk about. + There are lots of things I can't get the hang of entirely, but they all + leave a sort of pleasure behind. One feels it even if one only half + appreciates.” + </p> + <p> + She came over to his chair. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad,” she said, a little wistfully, “that there is one thing I do + which you like.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her reprovingly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Beatrice,” he said, “I often wish I could make you understand how + extraordinarily helpful and useful to me you have been.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me in what way?” she begged. + </p> + <p> + “You have given me,” he assured her, “an insight into many things in life + which I had found most perplexing. You see, you have traveled and I + haven't. You have mixed with all classes of people, and I have gone + steadily on in one groove. You have told me many things which I shall find + very useful indeed later on.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” she laughed, “you are making me quite conceited!” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow,” he replied, “I don't want you to look upon me, Beatrice, in any + way as a benefactor. I am much more comfortable here than at the + boarding-house and it is costing no more money, especially since you began + to get those singing engagements. By the way, hadn't you better go and get + ready?” + </p> + <p> + She smothered a sigh as she turned away and went slowly upstairs. To all + appearance, no person who ever breathed was more ordinary than this + strong-featured, self-centered young man who had put out his arm and + snatched her from the Maelstrom. Yet it seemed to her that there was + something almost unnatural about his unapproachability. She was convinced + that he was entirely honest, not only with regard to his actual relations + toward her, but with regard to all his purposes. Her sex did not even seem + to exist for him. The fact that she was good-looking, and with her renewed + health daily becoming more so, seemed to be of no account to him whatever. + He showed interest in her appearance sometimes, but it was interest of an + entirely impersonal sort. He simply expressed himself as satisfied or + dissatisfied, as a matter of taste. It came to her at that moment that she + had never seen him really relax. Only when he sat opposite to that great + map which hung now in the further room, and wandered about from section to + section with a pencil in one hand and a piece of rubber in another, did he + show anything which in any way approached enthusiasm, and even then it was + always the unmistakable enthusiasm born of dead things. Suddenly she + laughed at herself in the little mirror, laughed softly but heartily. This + was the guardian whom Fate had sent for her! If Elizabeth had only + understood! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. Mr. PRITCHARD OF NEW YORK + </h2> + <p> + Later in the evening, Beatrice and Tavernake traveled together in a motor + omnibus from their rooms at Chelsea to Northumberland Avenue. Tavernake + was getting quite used to the programme by now. They sat in a dimly-lit + waiting-room until the time came for Beatrice to sing. Every now and then + an excitable little person who was the secretary to some institution or + other would run in and offer them refreshments, and tell them in what + order they were to appear. To-night there was no departure from the + ordinary course of things, except that there was slightly more stir. The + dinner was a larger one than usual. It came to Beatrice's turn very soon + after their arrival, and Tavernake, squeezing his way a few steps into the + dining-room, stood with the waiters against the wall. He looked with + curious eyes upon a scene with which he had no manner of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + A hundred or so of men had dined together in the cause of some charity. + The odor of their dinner, mingled with the more aromatic perfume of the + tobacco smoke which was already ascending in little blue clouds from the + various tables, hung about the over-heated room, seeming, indeed, the + fitting atmosphere for the long rows of guests. The majority of them were + in a state of expansiveness. Their faces were redder than when they had + sat down; a certain stiffness had departed from their shirt-fronts and + their manners; their faces were flushed, their eyes watery. There were a + few exceptions—paler-faced men who sat there with the air of + endeavoring to bring themselves into accord with surroundings in which + they had no real concern. Two of these looked up with interest at the + first note of Beatrice's song. The one was sitting within a few places of + the chairman, and he was too far away for his little start to be noticed + by either Tavernake or Beatrice. The nearer one, however, Tavernake + happened to be watching, and he saw the change in his expression. The man + was, in his way, ugly. His face was certainly not a good one, although he + did not appear to share the immediate weaknesses of his neighbors. To + every note of the song he listened intently. When it was over, he rose and + came toward Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but did I not see you come in with the + young lady who has just been singing?” + </p> + <p> + “You may have,” Tavernake answered. “I certainly did come with her.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask if you are related to her?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake had got over his hesitation in replying to such questions, by + now. He answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “I am her brother,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + The man produced a card. + </p> + <p> + “Please introduce me to her,” he begged, laconically. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I?” Tavernake asked. “I have no reason to suppose that she + desires to know you.” + </p> + <p> + The man stared at him for a moment, and then laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “you had better show your sister my card. She is, I + presume, a professional, as she is singing here. My desire to make her + acquaintance is purely actuated by business motives.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake moved away toward the waiting-room. + </p> + <p> + The man, who according to his card was Mr. Sidney Grier, would have + followed him in, but Tavernake stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “If you will wait here,” he suggested, “I will see whether my sister + desires to meet you.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Mr. Sidney Grier looked surprised, but after a second glance at + Tavernake he accepted his suggestion and remained outside. Tavernake took + the card to Beatrice. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he announced, “there is a man outside who has heard you sing + and who wants to be introduced.” + </p> + <p> + She took the card and her eyes opened wide. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know who he is?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” she answered. “He is a great producer of musical comedies. + Let me think.” + </p> + <p> + She stood with the card in her hand. Some one else was singing now—an + ordinary modern ballad of love and roses, rapture and despair. They heard + the rising and falling of the woman's voice; the clatter of the dinner had + ceased. Beatrice stood still thinking, her fingers clinching the card of + Mr. Sidney Grier. + </p> + <p> + “You must bring him in,” she said to Tavernake finally. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake went outside. + </p> + <p> + “My sister will see you,” he remarked, with the air of one who brings good + news. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sidney Grier grunted. He was not used to being kept waiting, even for + a second. Tavernake ushered him into the retiring room, and the other two + musicians who were there stared at him as at a god. + </p> + <p> + “This is the gentleman whose card you have, Beatrice,” Tavernake + announced. “Mr. Sidney Grier—Miss Tavernake!” + </p> + <p> + The man smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Your brother seems to be suspicious of me,” he declared. “I found it + quite difficult to persuade him that you might find it interesting to talk + to me for a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “He does not quite understand,” Beatrice answered. “He has not much + experience of musical affairs or the stage, and your name would not have + any significance for him.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake went outside and listened idly to the song which was proceeding. + It was a class of music which secretly he preferred to the stranger and + more haunting notes of Beatrice's melodies. Apparently the audience was of + his opinion, for they received it with a vociferous encore, to which the + young lady generously replied with a music-hall song about “A French lady + from over the water.” Towards the close of the applause which marked the + conclusion of this effort, Tavernake felt himself touched lightly upon the + arm. He turned round. By his side was standing the other dinner guest who + had shown some interest in Beatrice. He was a man apparently of about + forty years of age, tall and broad-shouldered, with black moustache, and + dark, piercing eyes. Unlike most of the guests, he wore a short + dinner-coat and black tie, from which, and his slight accent, Tavernake + concluded that he was probably an American. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you'll forgive my speaking to you,” he said, touching Tavernake on + the arm. “My name is Pritchard. I saw you come in with the young lady who + was singing a few minutes ago, and if you won't consider it a liberty, + I'll be very glad indeed if you'll answer me one question.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stiffened insensibly. + </p> + <p> + “It depends upon the question,” he replied, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's about the young lady, and that's a fact,” Mr. Pritchard + admitted. “I see that her name upon the programme is given as Miss + Tavernake. I was seated at the other end of the room but she seemed to me + remarkably like a young lady from the other side of the Atlantic, whom I + am very anxious to meet.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will kindly put your question in plain words,” Tavernake + said. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's easy,” Mr. Pritchard declared. “Is Miss Tavernake really her + name, or an assumed one? I expect it's the same over here as in my country—a + singer very often sings under another name than her own, you know,” he + added, noting Tavernake's gathering frown. + </p> + <p> + “The young lady in question is my sister, and I do not care to discuss her + with strangers,” Tavernake announced. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pritchard nodded pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, that ends the matter,” he remarked. “Sorry to have + troubled you, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + He strolled off back to his seat and Tavernake returned thoughtfully to + the dressing-room. He found Beatrice alone and waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + “You've got rid of that fellow, then?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice assented. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; he didn't stay very long,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Who was he?” Tavernake asked, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “From a musical comedy point of view,” she said, “he was the most + important person in London. He is the emperor of stage-land. He can make + the fortune of any girl in London who is reasonably good-looking and who + can sing and dance ever so little.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he want with you?” Tavernake demanded, suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “He asked me whether I would like to go upon the stage. What do you think + about it, Leonard?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, for some reason or other, was displeased. + </p> + <p> + “Would you earn much more money than by singing at these dinners?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Very, very much more,” she assured him. + </p> + <p> + “And you would like the life?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? It isn't so bad. I was on the stage in New York for some time + under much worse conditions.” + </p> + <p> + He remained silent for a few minutes. They had made their way into the + street now and were waiting for an omnibus. + </p> + <p> + “What did you tell him?” he asked, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + She was looking down toward the Embankment, her eyes filled once more with + the things which he could not understand. + </p> + <p> + “I have told him nothing yet,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “You would like to accept?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” she replied. “If only—I dared!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. WOMAN'S WILES + </h2> + <p> + At eleven o'clock the next morning, Tavernake presented himself at the + Milan Court and inquired for Mrs. Wenham Gardner. He was sent at once to + her apartments in charge of a page. She was lying upon a sofa piled up + with cushions, wrapped in a wonderful blue garment which seemed somehow to + deepen the color of her eyes. By her side was a small table on which was + some chocolate, a bowl of roses, and a roll of newspapers. She held out + her hand toward Tavernake, but did not rise. There was something almost + spiritual about her pallor, the delicate outline of her figure, so + imperfectly concealed by the thin silk dressing-gown, the faint, tired + smile with which she welcomed him. + </p> + <p> + “You will forgive my receiving you like this, Mr. Tavernake?” she begged. + “To-day I have a headache. I have been anxious for your coming. You must + sit by my side, please, and tell me at once whether you have seen + Beatrice.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake did exactly as he was bidden. The chair toward which she had + pointed was quite close to the sofa, but there was no other unoccupied in + the room. She raised herself a little on the couch and turned towards him. + Her eyes were fixed anxiously upon his, her forehead slightly wrinkled, + her voice tremulous with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “You have seen her?” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” he admitted, looking steadily into the lining of his hat. + </p> + <p> + “She has been cruel,” Elizabeth declared. “I can tell it from your face. + You have bad news for me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” Tavernake replied, “whether she has been cruel or not. + She refuses to allow me to tell you her address. She begged me, indeed, to + keep away from you altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Did she tell you why?” + </p> + <p> + “She says that you are her sister, that you have no money of your own and + that your husband has left you,” Tavernake answered, deliberately. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not all,” he continued. “As to the rest, she told me nothing + definite. It is quite clear, however, that she is very anxious to keep + away from you.” + </p> + <p> + “But her reason?” Elizabeth persisted. “Did she give you no reason?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked her in the face. + </p> + <p> + “She gave me no reason,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe that she is justified in treating me like this?” Elizabeth + asked, playing nervously with a pendant which hung from her smooth, bare + neck. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do,” he replied. “I am quite sure that she would not feel as + she does unless you had been guilty of something very terrible indeed.” + </p> + <p> + The woman on the couch winced as though some one had struck her. A more + susceptible man than Tavernake must have felt a little remorseful at the + tears which dimmed for a moment her beautiful eyes. Tavernake, however, + although he felt a moment's uneasiness, although he felt himself assailed + all the time by a curious new emotion which he utterly failed to + understand, was nevertheless still immune. The things which were to happen + to him had not yet, arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he continued, “I was very much disappointed to hear this, + because I had hoped that we might have been able to let Grantham House to + you. We cannot consider the matter at all now unless you pay for + everything in advance.” + </p> + <p> + She uncovered her eyes and looked at him. People so direct of speech as + this had come very seldom into her life. She was conscious of a thrill of + interest. The study of men was a passion with her. Here was indeed a new + type! + </p> + <p> + “So you think that I am an adventuress,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + He reflected for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” he admitted, “that it comes to that. I should not have + returned at all if I had not promised. If there is any message which you + wish me to give your sister, I will take it, but I cannot tell you her + address.” + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand suddenly upon his, and raising herself a little on the + couch, leaned towards him. Her eyes and her lips both pleaded with him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she said slowly, “Beatrice is such a dear, obstinate + creature, but she does not quite appreciate my position. Do me a favor, + please. If you have promised not to give me her address let me at least + know some way or some place in which I could come across her. I am sure + she will be glad afterwards, and I—I shall be very grateful.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake felt that he was enveloped by something which he did not + understand, but his lack of experience was so great that he did not even + wonder at his insensibility. + </p> + <p> + “I shall keep my word to your sister,” he announced, “in the spirit as + well as the letter. It is quite useless to ask me to do otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was at first amazed, then angry, how angry she scarcely knew + even herself. She had been a spoilt child, she had grown into a spoilt + woman. Men, at least, had been ready enough to do her bidding all her + life. Her beauty was of that peculiar kind, half seductive, half pathetic, + wholly irresistible. And now there had come this strange, almost + impossible person, against the armor of whose indifference she had spent + herself in vain. Her eyes filled with tears once more as she looked at + him, and Tavernake became uneasy. He glanced at the clock and again toward + the door. + </p> + <p> + “I think, if you will excuse me,” he began,— + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she interrupted, “you are very unkind to me, very unkind + indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot help it,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “If you knew everything,” she continued, “you would not be so obstinate. + If Beatrice herself were here, if I could whisper something in her ear, + she would be only too thankful that I had found her out. Beatrice has + always misunderstood me, Mr. Tavernake. It is a little hard upon me, for + we are both so far away from home, from our friends.” + </p> + <p> + “You can send her any message you like by me,” Tavernake declared. “If you + like, I will wait while you write a letter. If you really have anything to + say to her which might change her opinion, you can write it, can't you?” + </p> + <p> + She looked down at her hands—very beautiful and well-kept hands—and + sighed. This young man, with his unusual imperturbability and hateful + common sense, was getting on her nerves. + </p> + <p> + “It is so hard to write things, Mr. Tavernake,” she said, “but, of course, + it is something to know that if the worst happens I can send her a letter. + I shall think about that for a short time. Meanwhile, there is so much + about her I would love to have you tell me. She has no money, has she? How + does she support herself?” + </p> + <p> + “She sings occasionally at concerts,” Tavernake replied after a moment's + pause. “I suppose there is no harm in telling you that.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth leaned towards him. She was very loth indeed to acknowledge + defeat. Once more her voice was deliciously soft, her forehead delicately + wrinkled, her blue eyes filled with alluring light. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she murmured, “do you know that you are not in the least + kind to me? Beatrice and I are sisters, after all. Even she has admitted + that. She left me most unkindly at a critical time in my life; she + misunderstood things; if I were to see her, I could explain everything. I + feel it very much that she is living apart from me in this city where we + are both strangers. I am anxious about her, Mr. Tavernake. Does she want + money? If so, will you take her some from me? Can't you suggest any way in + which I could help her? Do be my friend, please, and advise me.” + </p> + <p> + Life was certainly opening out for Tavernake. The atmosphere by which he + was surrounded, which she was deliberately creating around him, was the + atmosphere of an unknown world. It was a position, this, entirely novel to + him. Nevertheless, he did his best to cope with it intelligently. He + reflected carefully before he made any reply, he refused absolutely to + listen to the strange voices singing in his ears, and he delivered his + decision with his usual air of finality. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he said, “that since Beatrice refuses even to let you know + her whereabouts, she would not wish to accept anything from you. It seems + a pity,” he went on, the instincts of the money-saver stirring within him; + “she is certainly none too well off.” + </p> + <p> + The lady on the couch sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice has at least a friend,” she murmured. “It is a great deal to + have a friend. It is more than I have. We are both so far from home here. + Often I am sorry that we ever left America. England is not a hospitable + country, Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + Again this painfully literal young man spoke out what was in his mind. + </p> + <p> + “There was a gentleman in the motor-car with you the other night,” he + reminded her. + </p> + <p> + She bit her lip. + </p> + <p> + “He was just an acquaintance,” she answered, “a man whom I used to know in + New York, passing through London. He called on me and asked me to go to + the theatre and supper. Why not? I have had a terrible time during the + last few months, Mr. Tavernake, and I am very lonely—lonelier than + ever since my sister deserted me.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake began to feel, ridiculous though it seemed, that in some subtle + and inexplicable fashion he was in danger. At any rate, he was hopelessly + bewildered. He did not understand why this very beautiful lady should look + at him as though they were old friends, why her eyes should appeal to him + so often for sympathy, why her fingers, which a moment ago were resting + lightly upon his hand, and which she had drawn away with reluctance, + should have burned him like pin-pricks of fire. The woman who wishes to + allure may be as subtle as possible in her methods, but a sense of her + purpose, however vague it may be, is generally communicated to her would + be victim. Tavernake was becoming distinctly uneasy. He had no vanity. He + knew from the first that this beautiful creature belonged to a world far + removed from any of which he had any knowledge. The only solution of the + situation which presented itself to him was that she might be thinking of + borrowing money from him! + </p> + <p> + “There was never a time in my life,” she continued softly, “when I felt + that I needed a friend more. I am afraid that my sister has prejudiced you + against me, Mr. Tavernake. Beatrice is very young, and the young are not + always sympathetic, you know. They do not make allowances, they do not + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you tell Mr. Dowling things which were not true?” he asked + bluntly. + </p> + <p> + She sighed, and looked down at the handkerchief with which she had been + toying. + </p> + <p> + “It was a very silly piece of conceit,” she admitted, “but, you see, I had + to tell him something.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you come to the office at all?” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really want to know that?” she whispered softly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,—” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you,” she went on suddenly. “It sounds foolish, in a way, and + yet it wasn't really, because, you see,”—she smiled at him—“I + was anxious about Beatrice. I saw you come out of the office that morning, + and I recognized you at once. I knew that it was you who had been with + Beatrice. I made an excuse about the house to come and see whether I could + find you out.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, in whom the vanity was not yet born, missed wholly the + significance of her smile, her trifling hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “All that,” he declared, “is no reason why you should have told Mr. + Dowling that your husband was a millionaire and had given you carte + blanche about taking a house.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I mention—my husband?” + </p> + <p> + “Distinctly,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + For the first time she had faltered in her speech. Tavernake felt that she + herself was shaken by some emotion. Her eyes for a moment were + strangely-lit; something had come into her face which he did not + understand. Then it passed. The delightful smile, half deprecating, half + appealing, once more parted her lips; the gleam of horror no longer shone + in her blue eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I am always so foolish about money,” she declared, “so ignorant that I + never know how I stand, but really I think that I have plenty, and a + hundred or two more or less for rent didn't seem to matter much.” + </p> + <p> + It was a point of view, this, which Tavernake utterly failed to + comprehend. He looked at her in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” he protested, “you know how much a year you have to live on?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to vary all the time,” she sighed. “There are so many + complications.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” he admitted, “you don't look as though you had much of a head + for figures.” + </p> + <p> + “If only I had some one to help me!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake moved uneasily in his chair. His sense of danger was growing. + </p> + <p> + “If you will excuse me now,” he said, “I think that I must be getting + back. I am an employee at Dowling, Spence & Company's, you know, and + my time is not quite my own. I only came because I promised to.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she begged, looking at him full out of those wonderful + blue eyes, “please do me a great favor.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” he asked with clumsy ungraciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Come and see me, every now and then, and let me know how my sister is. + Perhaps you may be able to suggest some way in which I can help her.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake considered the question for a moment. He was angry with himself + for the unaccountable sense of pleasure which her suggestion had given + him. + </p> + <p> + “I am not quite sure,” he said, “whether I had better come. Beatrice + seemed quite anxious that I should not talk about her to you at all. She + did not like my coming to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to know a great deal about my sister,” Elizabeth declared + reflectively. “You call her by her Christian name and you appear to see + her frequently. Perhaps, even, you are fond of her.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake met his questioner's inquiring gaze blankly. He was almost + indignant. + </p> + <p> + “Fond of her!” he exclaimed. “I have never been fond of any one in my + life, or anything—except my work,” he added. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him a little bewildered at first. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you strange person!” she cried, her lips breaking into a delightful + smile. “Don't you know that you haven't begun to live at all yet? You + don't even know anything about life, and at the back of it all you have + capacity. Yes,” she went on, “I think that you have the capacity for + living.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand fell upon his with a little gesture which was half a caress. He + looked around him as though seeking for escape. He was on his feet now and + he clutched at his hat. + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” he insisted almost roughly. + </p> + <p> + “Am I keeping you?” she asked innocently. “Well, you shall go as soon as + you please, only you must promise me one thing. You must come back, say + within a week, and let me know how my sister is. I am not half so brutal + as you think. I really am anxious about her. Please!” + </p> + <p> + “I will promise that,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Wait one moment, then,” she begged, turning to the letters by her side. + “There is just something I want to ask you. Don't be impatient—it is + entirely a matter of business.” + </p> + <p> + All the time he was acutely conscious of that restless desire to get out + of the room. The woman's white arms, from which the sleeves of her blue + gown had fallen back, were stretched towards him as she lazily turned over + her pile of correspondence. They were very beautiful arms and Tavernake, + although he had had no experience, was dimly aware of the fact. Her eyes, + too, seemed always to be trying to reach some part of him which was dead, + or as yet unborn. He could feel her striving to get there, beating against + the walls of his indifference. Why should a woman wear blue stockings + because she had a blue gown, he wondered idly. She was not like Beatrice, + this alluring, beautiful woman, who lay there talking to him in a manner + whose meaning came to him only in strange, bewildering flashes. He could + be with Beatrice and feel the truth of what he had once told her—that + her sex was a thing which need not even be taken into account between + them. With this woman it was different; he felt that she wished it to be + different. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had better tell me about that matter of business next time I + am here,” he suggested, with an abruptness which was almost brusque. “I + must go now. I do not know why I have stayed so long.” + </p> + <p> + She held out her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “You are a very sudden person,” she declared, smiling at his discomfiture. + “If you must go!” + </p> + <p> + He scarcely touched her hand, anxious only to get away. And then the door + opened and a man of somewhat remarkable appearance entered the room with + the air of a privileged person. He was oddly dressed, with little regard + to the fashion of the moment. His black coat was cut after the mode of a + past generation, his collar was of the type affected by Gladstone and his + fellow-statesmen, his black bow was arranged with studied negligence and + he showed more frilled white shirt-front than is usual in the daytime. His + silk hat was glossy but broad-brimmed; his masses of gray hair, brushed + back from a high, broad forehead, gave him almost a patriarchal aspect. + His features were large and fairly well-shaped, but his mouth was weak and + his cheeks lacked the color of a healthy life. Tavernake stared at him + open-mouthed. He, for his part, looked at Tavernake as he might have + looked at some strange wild animal. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand apologies, dear Elizabeth!” he exclaimed. “I knocked, but I + imagine that you did not hear me. Knowing your habits, it did not occur to + me that you might be engaged at this hour of the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a young man from the house agent's,” she announced indifferently, + “come to see me about a flat.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case,” he suggested amiably, “I am, perhaps, not in the way.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth turned her head slightly and looked at him; he backed + precipitately toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “In a few minutes,” he said. “I will return in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake attempted to follow his example. + </p> + <p> + “There is no occasion for your friend to leave,” he protested. “If you + have any instructions for us, a note to the office will always bring some + one here to see you.” + </p> + <p> + She sat up on the couch and smiled at him. His obvious embarrassment + amused her. It was a new sort of game, this, altogether. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Mr. Tavernake,” she said, “three minutes more won't matter, will + it? I will not keep you longer than that, I promise.” + </p> + <p> + He came reluctantly a few steps back. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he explained, “but we really are busy this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “This is business,” she declared, still smiling at him pleasantly. “My + sister has filled you with suspicions about me. Some of them may be + justifiable, some are not. I am not so rich as I should like some people + to believe. It is so much easier to live well, you know, when people + believe that you are rolling in money. Still, I am by no means a pauper. I + cannot afford to take Grantham House, but neither can I afford to go on + living here. I have decided to make a change, to try and economize, to try + and live within my means. Now will you bring me a list of small houses or + flats, something at not more than say two or three hundred a year? It + shall be strictly a business proceeding. I will pay you for your time, if + that is necessary, and your commission in advance. There, you can't refuse + my offer on those terms, can you?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake remained silent. He was conscious that his lack of response + seemed both sullen and awkward, but he was for the moment tongue-tied. His + habit of inopportune self-analysis had once more asserted itself. He could + not understand the curious nature of his mistrust of this woman, nor could + he understand the pleasure which her suggestion gave him. He wanted to + refuse, and yet he was glad to be able to tell himself that he was, after + all, but an employee of his firm and not in a position to decline business + on their behalf. + </p> + <p> + She leaned a little towards him; her tone was almost beseeching. + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to be unkind? You will not refuse me?” she pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “I will bring you a list,” he answered heavily, “on the terms you + suggest.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow morning?” she begged. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I am able,” he promised. + </p> + <p> + Then he escaped. Outside in the corridor, the man who had interrupted his + interview was walking backwards and forwards. Tavernake passed him without + responding to his bland greeting. He forgot all about the lift and + descended five flights of stairs.... + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, he presented himself at the office and reported that + Mrs. Wenham Gardner had decided unfavorably about Grantham House, and that + she was not disposed, indeed, to take premises of anything like such a + rental. Mr. Dowling was disappointed, and inclined to think that his + employee had mismanaged the affair. + </p> + <p> + “I wish that I had gone myself,” he declared. “She obviously wished me to, + but it happened to be inconvenient. By-the-bye, Tavernake, close the door, + will you? There is another matter concerning which I should like to speak + to you.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake did as he was bidden at once, without any disquietude. His own + services to the firm were of such a nature that he had no misgiving + whatever as to his employer's desire for a private interview. + </p> + <p> + “It is about the Marston Rise estate,” Mr. Dowling explained, arranging + his pince nez. “I believe that the time is coming when some sort of + overtures should be made. You know what has been in my mind for a very + considerable time.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted, “I know quite well.” + </p> + <p> + “I did hear a rumor,” Mr. Dowling continued, “that some one had bought one + small plot on the outskirts of the estate. I dare say it is not true, and + in any case it is not worth while troubling about, but it shows that the + public is beginning to nibble. I am of opinion that the time is almost—yes, + almost ripe for a move.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish me to do anything in the matter, sir?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” Mr. Dowling declared, “I should like you to try to + find out whether any of the plots have really been sold, and, if so, to + whom, and what would be their price. Can you do this during the week?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + “Say Monday morning,” Mr. Dowling suggested, taking down his hat. “I shall + be playing golf to-morrow and Friday, and of course Saturday. Monday + morning you might let me have a report.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake went back to his office. After all, then, things were to come to + a crisis a little earlier than he had thought. He knew quite well that + that report, if he made it honestly, and no other idea was likely to occur + to him, would effectually sever his connection with Messrs. Dowling, + Spence & Company. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE PLOT THICKENS + </h2> + <p> + The man whom Tavernake had left walking up and down the corridor lost no + time in presenting himself once more at the apartments of Mrs. Wenham + Gardner. He entered the suite without ceremony, carefully closing both + doors behind him. It became obvious then that his deportment on the + occasion of his previous appearance had been in the nature of a bluff. The + air with which he looked across the room at the woman who watched him was + furtive; the hand which laid his hat upon the table was shaking; there was + a gleam almost of terror in his eyes. The woman remained impassive, + inscrutable, simply watching him. After a moment or two, however, she + spoke—a single monosyllable. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + The man broke down. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth,” he exclaimed, “you are too—too ghastly! I can't stand + it. You are unnatural.” + </p> + <p> + She stretched herself upon the couch and turned towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Unnatural, am I?” she remarked. “And what are you?” + </p> + <p> + He sank into a chair. He had become very flabby indeed. + </p> + <p> + “What you are always calling me, I suppose,” he muttered,—“a coward. + You have so little consideration, Elizabeth. My health isn't what it was.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes had wandered longingly toward the cupboard at the further end of + the apartment. The woman upon the couch smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You may help yourself,” she directed carelessly. “Perhaps then you will + be able to tell me why you have come in such a state.” + </p> + <p> + He crossed the room in a few hasty steps, his head and shoulders + disappeared inside the cupboard. There was the sound of the withdrawal of + a cork, the fizz of a sodawater syphon. He returned to his place a + different man. + </p> + <p> + “You must remember my age, Elizabeth dear,” he said, apologetically. “I + haven't your nerve—it isn't likely that I should have. When I was + twenty-five, there was nothing in the world of which I was afraid.” + </p> + <p> + She looked him over critically. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I am not so absolutely courageous as you think,” she remarked. + “To tell you the truth, there are a good many things of which I am afraid + when you come to me in such a state. I am afraid of you, of what you will + do or say.” + </p> + <p> + “You need not be,” he assured her hastily. “When I am away from you, I am + dumb. What I suffer no one knows. I keep it to myself.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, a little contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you do your best,” she declared. “Tell me, now, what is this + fresh thing which has disturbed you?” + </p> + <p> + Her visitor stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “Does there need to be any fresh thing?” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is something about Wenham?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The man shivered. He opened his lips and closed them again. The woman's + tone, if possible, grew colder. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are not going to tell me that you have disobeyed my orders,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he protested, “no! I was there yesterday. I came back by the mail + from Penzance. I had to motor thirty miles to catch it.” + </p> + <p> + “Something has happened, of course,” she went on, “something which you are + afraid to tell 'me. Sit up like a man, my dear father, and let me have the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing fresh has happened at all,” he assured her. “It is simply that + the memory of the day I spent at that place and that the sight of him has + got on my nerves till I can't sleep or think of anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “What rubbish!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You have only seen the place in fine weather,” he continued, dropping his + voice a little. “Elizabeth, you have no idea what it is really like. + Yesterday morning I got out of the train at Bodmin and I motored through + to the village of Clawes. After that there were five miles to walk. + There's no road, only a sort of broken track, and for the whole of that + five miles there isn't even a farm building to be seen and I didn't meet a + human soul. There was a sort of pall of white-gray mists everywhere over + the moor, sometimes so dense that I couldn't see my way, and you could + stop and listen and there wasn't a thing to be heard, not even a sheep + bell.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly.. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, foolish father,” she murmured, “you don't understand what a rest + cure is. This is quite all right, quite as it should be. Poor Wenham has + been seeing too many people all his life—that is why we have to keep + him quiet for a time. You can skip the scenery. I suppose you got to the + house at last?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I got there,” continued her father. “You know what a bleak-looking + place it is, right on the side of a bare hill—a square, gray stone + place just the color of the hillside. Well, I got there and walked in. + There was Ted Mathers, half dressed, no collar, with a bottle of whiskey + on the table, playing some wretched game of cards by himself. Elizabeth, + what a brute that man is!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” she said. “What about Wenham?” + </p> + <p> + “He was there in a corner, gazing out of the window. When I came he sprang + up, but when he saw who it was, he—he tried to hide. He was afraid + of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “He said that I—I reminded him of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Absurd!” she murmured. “Tell me, how did he look?” + </p> + <p> + “Ill, wretched, paler and thinner than ever, and wilder looking.” + </p> + <p> + “What did Mathers say about him?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “What could he? He told me that he cried all day and begged to be taken + back to America.” + </p> + <p> + “No one goes near the place, I suppose?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not a soul. A man comes from the village to sell things once a week. + Mathers knows when to expect him and takes care that Wenham is not around. + They are out of the world there—no road, no paths, nothing to bring + even a tourist. I could have imagined such a spot in Arizona, Elizabeth, + but in England—no!” + </p> + <p> + “Has he any amusements at all?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + The man's hands were shaking; once more his eyes went longingly toward the + cupboard. + </p> + <p> + “He has made—a doll,” he said, “carved it out of a piece of wood and + dressed it in oddments from his ties. Mathers showed it to me as a joke. + Elizabeth, it was wonderful—horrible!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “It is you,” he continued, moistening his lips with his tongue, “you, in a + blue gown—your favorite shade. He has even made blue stockings and + strange little shoes. He has got some hair from somewhere and parted it + just like yours.” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds very touching,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + The man was shivering again. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth,” he said, “I do not think that he means it kindly. Mathers + took me up into his room. He has made something there which looks like a + scaffold. The doll was hanging by a piece of string from the gallows. + Elizabeth!—my God, but it was like you!” he cried, suddenly dropping + his head upon his arms. + </p> + <p> + For a moment, a reflection of the terror which had seized him flashed in + her own face. It passed quickly away. She laughed mockingly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear father,” she protested, “you are certainly not yourself this + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you swinging,” he muttered, “swinging by that piece of cord! There + was a great black pin through your heart. Elizabeth, if he should get away + sometime! If some one should come over from America and discover where he + was! If he should find us out! Oh, my God, if he should find us out!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth had risen to her feet. She was standing now before the fire, her + left elbow resting upon the mantelpiece, a trifle of silver gleaming in + her right hand. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she said, “there is no danger in life for those who know no + fear. Look at me.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes sought hers, fascinated. + </p> + <p> + “If he should find me out,” she continued, “it would be no such terrible + thing, after all. It would be the end.” + </p> + <p> + Her fingers disclosed the little ornament she was carrying—a tiny + pistol. She slipped it back into her pocket. The man was wondering how + such a thing as this came to be his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “You have courage, Elizabeth,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “I have courage,” she assented, “because I have brains. I never allow + myself to be in a position where I should be likely to get the worst of + it. Ever since the day when he turned so suddenly against me, I have been + careful.” + </p> + <p> + Her father leaned towards her. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth,” he said, “I never really understood. What was it that came + over him so suddenly? One day he was your slave, the next I think he would + have murdered you if he could.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Honestly,” she replied, “I felt it impossible to keep up the sham any + longer. I married Wenham Gardner in New York because he was supposed to be + a millionaire and because it seemed to be the best thing to do, but as to + living with him, I never meant that. You know how ridiculous his behavior + was on the boat. He never let me out of his sight, but swore that he was + going to give up smoking and drinking and lead a new life for my sake. I + really believe he meant it, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't it have been better, dear,” her father suggested, timidly, “to + have encouraged him?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “He was absolutely hopeless,” she declared. “You say that I have no + nerves; that is because I do not allow myself to suffer. If I had gone on + living with Wenham, it would have driven me mad. His habits, his manner of + life, everything disgusted me. Until I came to see so much of him, I never + understood what the term 'decadent' really can mean. The very touch of him + grew to be hateful. No woman could live with such a man. By the way, he + signed the draft, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + Her father handed her a slip of paper, which she looked at and locked in + her drawer. + </p> + <p> + “Did he make any trouble about it?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The professor shivered. + </p> + <p> + “He refused to sign it,” he said, in a low tone, “swore he would never + sign it. Mathers sent me out for a few minutes, made me go into another + room. When I came back, he gave me the draft. I heard him calling out.” + </p> + <p> + “Mathers certainly earns his money,” she remarked, drily. + </p> + <p> + He gazed at her with grudging admiration. This was his daughter, his own + flesh and blood. Back through the years, for a moment, he seemed to see + her, a child with hair down her back, sitting on his knee, listening to + his stories, wondering at the little arts and tricks by which he had + wrested their pennies and sixpennies from a credulous public. + Phrenologist, hypnotist, conjurer—all these things the great + Professor Franklin had called himself. Often, from the rude stage where he + had given his performance, he had terrified to death the women and + children of his audience. It flashed upon him at that moment that never, + even in the days of her childhood, had he seen fear in Elizabeth's face. + </p> + <p> + “You should have been a man, Elizabeth,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, smiling as though not ill-pleased at the compliment. + </p> + <p> + “The power of a man is so limited,” she declared. “A woman has more + weapons.” + </p> + <p> + “More weapons indeed,” the professor agreed, as his eyes traveled over the + slim yet wonderful perfection of her form, lingered for a moment at the + little knot of lace at her throat, wrestled with the delicate sweetness of + her features, struggling hard to think from whom among his ancestors could + have come a creature so physically attractive. + </p> + <p> + “More weapons, indeed,” he repeated. “Elizabeth, what a gift—what a + gift!” + </p> + <p> + “You speak,” she replied, “as though it were an evil one.” + </p> + <p> + “I was only thinking,” he said, “that it seems a pity. You are so + wonderful, we might have found an easier and a less dangerous way to + fortune.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “The Bohemian blood in me, I suppose,” she remarked. “The crooked ways + attract, you know, when one has been brought up as I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Your poor mother had no love for them,” he reminded her. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice has inherited everything that belonged to my mother. I am your + own daughter, father. You ought to be proud of me. But there, I gave you + another commission. Is it true that Jerry is really here?” + </p> + <p> + “He arrived in England on Wednesday on the Lusitania. He has been in town + all the time since.” + </p> + <p> + A distinct frown darkened her face. + </p> + <p> + “He must have had my letter, then,” she murmured, half to herself. + </p> + <p> + “Without a doubt,” her father admitted. “Elizabeth, why do you take + chances about seeing this man? He was fond of you in New York, I know, but + then he was fond of his brother, too. He may not believe your story. It + may be dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I think I can convince Jerry Gardner of anything I choose to tell him,” + she said. “Besides, it is absolutely necessary that I have some + information about Wenham's affairs. He must have a great deal more money + somewhere and I must find out how we are to get at it.” + </p> + <p> + The professor shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like it,” he muttered. “Supposing he finds Beatrice!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice is made of silent stuff,” she declared. “I should never be + afraid of her. All the same, I wish I could find out just where she is. It + would look better if we were living together.” + </p> + <p> + The professor shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “She left us of her own free will,” he said, “and I don't believe, + Elizabeth, that she would ever come back again. She knew very well what + she was doing. She knew that our views of life were not hers. She didn't + know half but she knew enough. You were quite right in what you said just + now; Beatrice was more like her mother, and her mother was a good woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” Elizabeth remarked, insolently. + </p> + <p> + “Don't answer like that,” he blustered, striking the table. “She was your + mother, too.” + </p> + <p> + The woman's face was inscrutable, hard, and flawless behind the little + cloud of tobacco smoke. The man began to tremble once more. Every time he + ventured to assert himself, a single look from her was sufficient to quell + him. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth,” he muttered, “you haven't a heart, you haven't a soul, you + haven't a conscience. I wonder—what sort of a woman you are!” + </p> + <p> + “I am your daughter,” she reminded him, pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “I was never quite so bad as that,” he went on, taking a large silk + handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing his forehead. “I had to live and + times were hard. I have cheated the public, perhaps. I haven't been above + playing at cards a little cleverly, or making something where I could out + of the weaker men. But, Elizabeth, I am afraid of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Men are generally afraid of the big stakes,” she remarked, flicking the + ash from her cigarette. “They will cheat and lie for halfpennies, but they + are bad gamblers when life or death—the big things are in the + balance. Bah!” she went on. “Father, I want Jerry Gardner to come and see + me.” + </p> + <p> + “If you can't make him come, my dear,” the professor said, “I am sure it + will be of no use my trying.” + </p> + <p> + “He has had my letter,” she continued, half to herself; “he has had my + letter and he does not come.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to be done but wait,” her father decided. + </p> + <p> + “And meanwhile,” she went on, “supposing he were to discover Beatrice, + supposing they two were to come together; supposing he were to tell her + what he knows and she were to tell him what she guessed!” + </p> + <p> + The professor buried his face in his hands. Elizabeth threw her cigarette + away with an impatient gesture. + </p> + <p> + “What an idiot I am!” she declared. “What is the use of wasting time like + this?” + </p> + <p> + There was a knock at the door. A trim-looking French maid presented + herself. She addressed her mistress in voluble French. A coiffeur and a + manicurist were waiting in the next apartment; it was time that Madame + habited herself. The professor listened to these announcements with an air + of half-admiring wonder. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I must be going,” he said, rising to his feet. “There is just + one thing I should like to ask you, Elizabeth, if I may, before I go.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Who was the young man whom I met here just now?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you ask that?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I really do not know,” her father replied, thoughtfully, “except that his + appearance seemed a little singular. In some respects he appeared so + commonplace. His clothes and bearing, in fact, were so ordinary that I was + surprised to find him here with you. And, on the other hand, his face—you + must remember, my dear, that this is entirely a professional instinct; I + am still interested in faces—” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so,” she admitted. “Go on. The young man rather puzzles me myself. + I should like to hear what you make of him. What did you think of his + face?” + </p> + <p> + “There was something powerful about it,” he declared, “something dogged, + splendid, narrow, impossible,—the sort of face which belongs to a + man who achieves great things because he is too stupid to recognize + failure, even when it has him in its arms and its fingers are upon his + throat. That young man has qualities, my dear, I am sure. Mind you, at + present they are dormant, but he has qualities.” + </p> + <p> + She led him to the door. + </p> + <p> + “My dear father,” she said, “sometimes I really respect you. If you should + come across that young man again, keep your eye upon him. He knows one + thing at least which I wish he would tell us—he knows where Beatrice + is.” + </p> + <p> + Her father looked at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “He knows where Beatrice is and he has not told you?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You tried to have him tell you and he refused?” the professor persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” she admitted. + </p> + <p> + Her father put on his hat. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that young man was something out of the common.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE JOY OF BATTLE + </h2> + <p> + They sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, in the topmost corner of the + field. In the hedge, close at hand, was a commotion of birds. In the elm + tree, a little further away, a thrush was singing. A soft west wind blew + in their faces; the air immediately around them was filled with sunlight. + Yet almost to their feet stretched one of those great arms of the city—a + suburb, with its miles of villas, its clanging of electric cars, its waste + plots, its rows of struggling shops. And only a little further away still, + the body itself—the huge city, throbbing beneath its pall of smoke + and cloud. The girl, who had been gazing steadily downwards for several + moments, turned at last to her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she said, “that this makes me think of the first night you + spoke to me? You remember it—up on the roof at Blenheim House?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake did not answer for a moment. He was looking through a + queerly-shaped instrument that he had brought with him at half-a-dozen + stakes that he had laboriously driven into the ground some distance away. + He was absolutely absorbed in his task. + </p> + <p> + “The main avenue,” he muttered softly to himself. “Yes, it must be a + trifle more to the left. Then we get all the offshoots parallel and the + better houses have their southern aspect. I beg your pardon, Beatrice, did + you say anything?” he broke off suddenly. + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing worth mentioning. I was just thinking that it reminded me a + little up here of the first time you and I ever talked together.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced down at the panorama below, with its odd jumble of hideous + buildings, softened here and there with wreaths of sunstained smoke, its + great blots of ugliness irredeemable, insistent. + </p> + <p> + “It's different, of course,” she went on. “I remember, even now, the view + from the house-top that night. In a sense, it was finer than this; + everything was more lurid and yet more chaotic; one simply felt that + underneath all those mysterious places was some great being, toiling and + struggling—Life itself, groaning through space with human cogwheels. + Up here one sees too much. Oh, my dear Leonard,” she continued, “to think + that you, too, should be one of the devastators!” + </p> + <p> + He fitted his instrument into its case and replaced it in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “you mustn't call me hard names. I shall remind you of + the man whose works you are making me read. You know what he says—'The + aesthete is, after all, only a dallier. The world lives and progresses by + reason of its utilitarians.' This hill represents to me most of the things + that are worth having in life.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “You will cut down those hedges and drive away the birds to find a fresh + home; you will plough up the green grass, cut out a street and lay down + granite stones. Then I see your ugly little houses coming up like + mushrooms all over the place. You are a vandal, my dear Leonard.” + </p> + <p> + “I am simply obeying the law,” he answered. “After all, even from your own + point of view, I do not think that it is so bad. Look closer, and you will + find that the hedges are blackened here and there with smuts. The birds + will find a better dwelling place further away. See how the smoke from + those factory chimneys is sending its smuts across these fields. They are + no longer country; they are better gathered in.” + </p> + <p> + She shivered. + </p> + <p> + “There is something about life,” she said, sadly, “which terrifies me. + Every force that counts seems to be destructive.” + </p> + <p> + Up the steep hill behind them came the puffing and groaning of a small + motor-car. They both turned their heads to watch it come into view. It was + an insignificant affair of an almost extinct pattern, a single cylinder + machine with a round tonneau back. The engine was knocking badly as the + driver brought it to a standstill a few yards away from them. + Involuntarily Tavernake stiffened as he saw the two men who descended from + it, and who were already passing through the gate close to where they + were. One was Mr. Dowling, the other the manager of the bank where they + kept their account. Mr. Dowling recognized his manager with surprise but + much cordiality. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” he exclaimed. “Dear me, this is most fortunate! You know Mr. + Tavernake, of course, Belton? My manager, Mr. Tavernake—Mr. Belton, + of the London & Westminster Bank. I have brought Mr. Belton up here, + Tavernake, to have a look round, so that he may know what we mean to do + with all the money we shall have to come and borrow, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The bank manager smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It is a very fine situation,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the two men fell upon Beatrice, who had drawn a little to one + side. + </p> + <p> + “May we have the pleasure, Tavernake?” Mr. Dowling said, graciously. “You + are not married, I believe?” + </p> + <p> + “No, this is my sister,” Tavernake answered, slowly,—“Mr. Belton and + Mr. Dowling.” + </p> + <p> + The two men acknowledged the salute with some slight surprise. Beatrice, + although her clothes were simple, had always the air of belonging to a + different world. + </p> + <p> + “Your brother, my dear Miss Tavernake,” Mr. Dowling declared, “is a + perfect genius at discovering these desirable sites. This one I honestly + consider to be the find of our lifetime. We have now,” he proceeded, + turning to Mr. Belton, “certain information that the cars will run to + whatever point we desire in this vicinity, and the Metropolitan Railway + has also arranged for an extension of its system. To-morrow I propose,” + Mr. Dowling continued, holding the sides of his coat and assuming a + somewhat pompous manner, “to make an offer for the whole of this site. It + will involve a very large sum of money indeed, but I am convinced that it + will be a remunerative speculation.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake remained grimly silent. This was scarcely the time or the place + which he would have selected for an explanation with his employer. There + were signs, however, that the thing was to be forced upon him. + </p> + <p> + “I am very pleased indeed to meet you here, Tavernake,” Mr. Dowling went + on, “pleased both for personal reasons and because it shows, if I may be + allowed to say so, the interest which you take in the firm's business, + that you should devote your holiday to coming and—er—surveying + the scene of our exploits, so to speak. Perhaps now that you are here you + would be able to explain to Mr. Belton better than I should, just what it + is that we propose.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake hesitated for a moment. Finally, however, he proceeded to make + clear a very elaborate and carefully thought out building scheme, to which + both men listened with much attention. When he had finished, however, he + turned round to Mr. Dowling, facing him squarely. + </p> + <p> + “You will understand, sir,” he concluded, “that a scheme such as I have + pointed out could only be carried through if the whole of the property + were in one person's hands. I may say that the information to which you + referred a few days ago was perfectly correct. A considerable portion of + the south side of the hill has already been purchased, besides certain + other plots which would interfere considerably with any comprehensive + scheme of building.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowling's face fell at once; his tone was one of annoyance mingled + with irritation. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” he declared, “this sounds very bad, Mr. Tavernake, very + neglectful, very careless as to the interests of the firm. Why did we not + keep our eye upon it? Why did we not forestall this other purchaser, eh? + It appears to me that we have been slack, very slack indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake took a small book from his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You will remember, sir,” he said, “that it was on the eleventh of May + last year when I first spoke to you of this site.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” Mr. Dowling exclaimed, sharply, “what of it?” + </p> + <p> + “You were starting out for a fortnight's golf somewhere,” Tavernake + continued, “and you promised to look into the affair when you returned. I + spoke to you again but you declared that you were far too busy to go into + the matter at all for the present, you didn't care about this side of + London, you considered that we had enough on hand—in fact, you threw + cold water upon the idea.” + </p> + <p> + “I may not have been very enthusiastic at first,” Mr. Dowling admitted, + grudgingly. “Latterly, however, I have come round to your views.” + </p> + <p> + “There have been several articles in various newspapers, and a good deal + of talk,” Tavernake remarked, “which have been more effectual, I think, in + bringing you round, than my advice. However, what I wish to say to you is + this, sir, that when I found myself unable to interest you in this scheme, + I went into it myself to some extent.” + </p> + <p> + “Went into it yourself?” Mr. Dowling repeated, incredulously. “What do you + mean, Tavernake? What do you mean, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I have invested my savings in the purchase of several plots + of land upon this hillside,” Tavernake explained. + </p> + <p> + “On your own account?” Mr. Dowling demanded. “Your savings, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” Tavernake answered. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “But it's the firm's business, sir—the firm's, not yours!” + </p> + <p> + “The firm had the opportunity,” Tavernake pointed out, “and were not + inclined to avail themselves of it. If I had not bought the land when I + did, some one else would have bought the whole of it long ago.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowling was obviously in a furious temper. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me, sir,” he exclaimed, “that you dared to enter into + private speculations while still an employee of the firm? It is a most + unheard-of thing, unwarranted, ridiculous. I shall require you, sir, to at + once make over the plots of land to us—to the firm, you understand. + We shall give you your price, of course, although I expect you paid much + more for it than we should have done. Still, we must give you what you + paid, and four per cent interest for your money.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” Tavernake replied, “but I am afraid that I should require + better terms than that. In fact,” he continued, “I do not wish to sell. I + have given a great deal of thought and time to this matter, and I intend + to carry it out as a personal speculation.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you will carry it out, sir, from some other place than from within + the walls of my office,” Mr. Dowling declared, furiously. “You understand + that, Tavernake?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” Tavernake answered. “You wish me to leave you. It is very + unwise of you to suggest it, but I am quite prepared to go.” + </p> + <p> + “You will either resell me those plots at cost price, or you shall not set + foot within the office again,” Mr. Dowling insisted. “It is a gross breach + of faith, this. I never heard of such a thing in all my life. Most + unprofessional, impossible behavior!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake showed no signs of anger—he simply turned a little away. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not sell you my land, Mr. Dowling,” he said, “and it will suit me + very well to leave your employ. You appear,” he continued, “to expect some + one else to do the whole of the work for you while you reap the entire + profits. Those days have gone by. My business in the world is to make a + fortune for myself, and not for you!” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you, sir!” Mr. Dowling cried. “I never heard such impertinence + in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't done a stroke of work for five years,” Tavernake went on, + unmoved, “and my efforts have supplied you with a fairly good income. In + future, those efforts will be directed towards my own advancement.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dowling turned back toward the car. + </p> + <p> + “Young man,” he said, “you can brazen it out as much as you like, but you + have been guilty of a gross breach of faith. I shall take care that the + exact situation is made known in all responsible quarters. You'll get no + situation with any firm with whom I am acquainted—I can promise you + that. If you have anything more to say to Dowling, Spence & Company, + let it be in writing.” + </p> + <p> + They parted company there and then. Tavernake and Beatrice went down the + hill in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Does this bother you at all?” she inquired presently. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing to speak of,” Tavernake answered. “It had to come. I wasn't quite + ready but that doesn't matter.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall you do now?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Borrow enough to buy the whole of the hill,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + She looked back. + </p> + <p> + “Won't that mean a great deal of money?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It will be a big thing, of course,” he admitted. “Never mind, I dare say + I shall be able to interest some one in it. In any case, I never meant Mr. + Dowling to make a fortune out of this.” + </p> + <p> + They walked on in silence a little further. Then she spoke again, with + some hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that what you have done is quite fair, Leonard?” + </p> + <p> + He answered her promptly, without any sign of offence at her question. + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact,” he confessed, “it is an unusual thing for any one + in the employ of a firm of estate agents to make speculations on their own + account in land. In this case, however, I consider that I was justified. I + have opened up three building speculations for the firm, on each one of + which they have made a great deal of money, and I have not even had my + salary increased, or any recognition whatever offered me. There is a debt, + of course, which an employee owes to his employer. There is also a debt, + however, which the employer owes to his employee. In my case I have never + been treated with the slightest consideration of any sort. What I have + done I shall stick to. After all, I am more interested in making money for + myself than for other people.” + </p> + <p> + They had reached the corner of the field now, and turning into the lane + commenced the steep descent. It was Sunday evening, and from all the + little conventicles and tin churches below, the bells began their + unmusical summons. From further away in the distance came the more + melodious chiming from the Cathedral and the city churches. The shriller + and nearer note, however, prevailed. The whole medley of sound was a + discord. As they descended, they could see the black-coated throngs slowly + moving towards the different places of worship. There was something + uninspiring about it all. She shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she said, “I wonder why you are so anxious to get on in the + world. Why do you want to be rich?” + </p> + <p> + He was glancing back toward the hill, the light of calculations in his + eyes. Once more he was measuring out those plots of land, calculating + rent, deducting interest. + </p> + <p> + “We all seek different things,” he replied tolerantly,—“some fame, + some pleasure. Mr. Dowling, for instance, has no other ambition than to + muddle round the golf links a few strokes better than his partner.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is success I seek,” he answered. “Women, as a rule, do not understand. + You, for instance, Beatrice, are too sentimental. I am very practical. It + is money that I want. I want money because money means success.” + </p> + <p> + “And afterwards?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + He was attending to her no longer. They were turning now into the broad + thoroughfare at the bottom of the lane, at the end of which a tram-car was + waiting. He scribbled a few, final notes into his pocket-book. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow,” he exclaimed, with the joy of battle in his tone, “to-morrow + the fight begins in earnest!” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice passed her hand through his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Not only for you, dear friend, but for me,” she said. “For you? What do + you mean?” he asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I have been trying to tell you all day,” she continued, “but you have + been too engrossed. Yesterday afternoon I went to see Mr. Grier at the + Atlas Theatre. I had my voice tried, and to-morrow night I am going to + take a small part in the new musical comedy.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stared at her in something like consternation. His ideas as to + the stage and all that belonged to it were of a primitive order. Mrs. + Fitzgerald was perhaps as near as possible to his idea of the type. He + glanced incredulously at Beatrice—slim, quietly dressed, yet with + the unmistakable, to him mysterious, distinction of breeding. + </p> + <p> + “You an actress!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Leonard,” she said, “this is going to be a part of your education. + To-morrow night you shall come to the theatre and wait for me at the + stage-door.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. A BEWILDERING OFFER + </h2> + <p> + Elizabeth stood with her hands behind her back, leaning slightly against + the writing-table. The professor, with his broad-brimmed hat clinched in + his fingers, walked restlessly up and down the little room. The discussion + had not been altogether a pleasant one. Elizabeth was composed but + serious, her father nervous and excited. + </p> + <p> + “You are mad, Elizabeth!” he declared. “Is it that you do not understand, + or will not? I tell you that we must go.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Where would you drag me to?” she asked. “We certainly can't go back to + New York.” + </p> + <p> + He turned fiercely upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Whose fault is it that we can't?” he demanded. “If it weren't for you and + your confounded schemes, I could be walking down Broadway next week. God's + own city it is, too!” he muttered. “I wish we'd never seen those two young + men.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a pity, perhaps,” she admitted, “yet we had to do something. We + were absolutely stonybroke, as they say over here.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyway, we've got to get out of this,” the professor declared. + </p> + <p> + “My dear father,” she replied, “I will agree that if a new city or a new + world could arise from the bottom of the sea, where Professor Franklin was + unknown, and his beautiful daughter Elizabeth had neyer been heard of, it + might perhaps be advisable for us to go there. As it is--” + </p> + <p> + “There is Rome,” he exclaimed, “or some of the smaller places! We have + money for a time. We could get another draft, perhaps, from Wenham.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “We are just as safe here as anywhere on the + Continent,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + Once more he struck the table. Then he threw out his hands above his head + with the melodramatic instinct which had always been strong in his blood. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that I am a fool?” he cried. “Do you think I do not know + that if there were not something moving in your brain you would think no + more of that clerk, that bourgeois estate agent, than of the door-mat + beneath your feet? It is what I always complain about. You make use of me + as a tool. There are always things which I do not understand. He comes + here, this young man, under a pretext, whether he knows it or not. You + talk to him for an hour at a time. There should be nothing in your life + which I do not know of, Elizabeth,” he continued, his voice suddenly + hoarse as he leaned towards her. “Can't you see that there is danger in + friendships for you and for me, there is danger in intimacies of any sort? + I share the danger; I have a right to share the knowledge. This young man + has no money of his own, I take it. Of what use is he to us?” + </p> + <p> + “You are too hasty, my dear father,” she replied. “Let me assure you that + there is nothing at all mysterious about Mr. Tavernake. The simple truth + is that the young man rather attracts me.” + </p> + <p> + The professor gazed at her incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Attracts you! He!” + </p> + <p> + “You have never perfectly understood me, my dear parent,” she murmured. + “You have never appreciated that trait in my character, that strange + preference, if you like, for the absolutely original. Now in all my life I + never met such a young man as this. He wears the clothes and he has the + features and speech of just such a person as you have described, but there + is a difference.” + </p> + <p> + “A difference, indeed!” the professor interrupted roughly. “What + difference, I should like to know?” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders lightly. + </p> + <p> + “He is stolid without being stupid,” she explained. “He is entirely + self-centered. I smile at him, and he waits patiently until I have + finished to get on with our business. I have said quite nice things to him + and he has stared at me without change of expression, absolutely without + pleasure or emotion of any sort.” + </p> + <p> + “You are too vain, Elizabeth,” her father declared. “You have been spoilt. + There are a few people in the world whom even you might fail to charm. No + doubt this young man is one of them.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed gently. + </p> + <p> + “It really does seem,” she admitted, “as though you were right, but we + shall see. By-the-bye, hadn't you better go? The five minutes are nearly + up.” + </p> + <p> + He came over to her side, his hat and gloves in his hand, prepared for + departure. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me, upon your honor, Elizabeth,” he begged, “that there is + no other reason for your interest? That you are not engaged in any fresh + schemes of which I know nothing? Things are bad enough as they are. I + cannot sleep, I cannot rest, for thinking of our position. If I thought + that you had any fresh plans on hand—” + </p> + <p> + She flicked the ash from her cigarette and checked him with a little + gesture. + </p> + <p> + “He knows where Beatrice is,” she remarked thoughtfully, “and I can't get + him to tell me. There is nothing beyond—absolutely nothing.”... + </p> + <p> + When Tavernake was announced, Elizabeth was still smoking, sitting in an + easy-chair and looking into the fire. Something in her attitude, the droop + of her head as it rested upon her fingers, reminded him suddenly of + Beatrice. He showed no other emotion than a sudden pause in his walk + across the room. Even that, however, in a person whose machinelike + attitude towards her provoked her resentment, was noticeable. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, my friend!” she said pleasantly. “You have brought me the + fresh list?” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately, no, madam,” Tavernake answered. “I have called simply to + announce that I am not able to be of any further assistance to you in the + matter.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him for a moment without remark. + </p> + <p> + “Are you serious, Mr. Tavernake?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied. “The fact is I am not in a position to help you. I have + left the employ of Messrs. Dowling, Spence & Company.” + </p> + <p> + “Of your own accord?” she inquired quietly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I was dismissed,” he confessed. “I should have been compelled to + leave in a very short time, but Mr. Dowling forestalled me.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you sit down and tell me about it?” she invited. + </p> + <p> + He looked her in the eyes, square and unflinching. He was still able to do + that! + </p> + <p> + “It could not possibly interest you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And—my sister? You have seen her?” + </p> + <p> + “I have seen your sister,” Tavernake answered, without hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “You have a message for me?” + </p> + <p> + “None,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “She refuses—to be reconciled, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid she has no friendly feelings towards you.” + </p> + <p> + “She gave you no reason?” + </p> + <p> + “No direct reason,” he admitted, “but her attitude is—quite + uncompromising.” + </p> + <p> + She rose and swept across the floor towards him. With firm but gentle + fingers she took his worn bowler hat and mended gloves from his hand. Her + gesture guided him towards a sofa. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice has prejudiced you against me,” she murmured. “It is not fair. + Please come and sit down—for five minutes,” she pleaded. “I want you + to tell me why you have quarrelled with that funny little man, Mr. + Dowling.” + </p> + <p> + “But, madam,—” he protested. + </p> + <p> + “If you refuse, I shall think that my sister has been telling you stories + about me,” she declared, watching him closely. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake drew a little away from her but seated himself on the sofa which + she had indicated. He took up as much room as possible, and to his relief + she did not persist in her first intention, which was obviously to seat + herself beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Your sister has told me nothing about you whatsoever,” he said + deliberately. “At the same time, she asked me not to give you her + address.” + </p> + <p> + “We will talk about that presently,” she interrupted. “In the first place, + tell me why you have left your place.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Dowling discovered,” he told her, in a matter-of-fact tone, “that I + had been doing some business on my own account. He was quite right to + disapprove. I have not been back to the office since he found it out.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of business?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “The business of the firm is to buy property in undeveloped districts and + sell it for building estate,” he explained. “I have been very successful + hitherto in finding sites for their operations. A short time ago, I + discovered one so good that I invested all my own savings in buying + certain lots, and have an option upon the whole. Mr. Dowling found it out + and dismissed me.” + </p> + <p> + “But it seems most unfair,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” he answered. “In Mr. Dowling's place I should have done the + same thing. Every one with his way in life to make must look out for + himself. Strictly speaking, what I did was wrong. I wish, however, that I + had done it before. One must think of one's self first.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” she inquired. “What are you going to do now?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to find a capitalist or float a company to buy the rest of the + site,” he announced. “After that, we must see about building. There is no + hurry about that, though. The first thing is to secure the site.” + </p> + <p> + “How much money does it require?” + </p> + <p> + “About twelve thousand pounds,” he told her. + </p> + <p> + “It seems very little,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “The need for money comes afterwards,” he explained. “We want to drain and + plan and build without mortgages. As soon as we are sure of the site, one + can think of that. My option only extends for a week or so.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think that it is a good speculation?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think about such matters,” he answered, drily. “I know.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned back in her chair, watching him for several seconds—admiring + him, as a matter of fact. The profound conviction of his words was almost + inspiring. In her presence, and she knew that she was a very beautiful + woman, he appeared, notwithstanding his absence of any knowledge of her + sex and his lack of social status, unmoved, wholly undisturbed. He sat + there in perfect naturalness. It did not seem to him even unaccountable + that she should be interested in his concerns. He was not conceited or + aggressive in any way. His complete self-confidence lacked any militant + impulse. He was—himself, impervious to surroundings, however + unusual. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I not be your capitalist?” she inquired slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Have you as much as twelve thousand pounds that you want to invest?” he + asked, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + She rose to her feet and moved across to her desk. He sat quite still, + watching her without any apparent curiosity. She unlocked a drawer and + returned to him with a bankbook in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Add that up,” she directed, “and tell me how much I have.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a lead pencil from his pocket and quickly added up the total. + </p> + <p> + “If you have not given any cheques since this was made up,” he said + calmly, “you have a credit balance of thirteen thousand, one hundred and + eighteen pounds, nine shillings and fourpence. It is very foolish of you + to keep so much money on current account. You are absolutely losing about + eight pounds a week.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It is foolish of me, I suppose,” she admitted, “but I have no one to + advise me just now. My father knows no more about money than a child, and + I have just had quite a large amount paid to me in cash. I only wish we + could get Beatrice to share some of this, Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + He made no remark. To all appearance, he had never heard of her sister. + She came and sat down by his side again. + </p> + <p> + “Will you have me for a partner, Mr. Tavernake?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + Then, indeed, for a moment, the impassivity of his features relaxed. He + was frankly amazed. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot mean this,” he declared. “You know nothing about the value of + the property, nothing about the affair at all. It is quite impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you have told me,” she said. “Is not that enough? You are + sure that it will make money and you have just told me how foolish I am to + keep so much money in my bank. Very well, then, I give it to you to + invest. You must pay me quite a good deal of interest.” + </p> + <p> + “But you know nothing about me,” he protested, “nothing about the + property.” + </p> + <p> + “One must trust somebody,” she replied. “Why shouldn't I trust you?” + </p> + <p> + He was nonplussed. This woman seemed to have an answer for everything. + Besides, when once he had got over the unexpectedness of the thing, it + was, of course, a wonderful stroke of fortune for him. Then came a whole + rush of thoughts, a glow which he thrust back sternly. It would mean + seeing her often; it would mean coming here to her rooms; it would mean, + perhaps, that she might come to look upon him as a friend. He set his + teeth hard. This was folly! + </p> + <p> + “Have you any idea about terms?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear friend,” she said, “why do you ask me such a question? You know + quite well that I am not competent to discuss terms with you. Listen. You + are engaged in a speculation to carry out which you want the loan of + twelve thousand pounds. Draw up a paper in which you state what my share + will be of the profits, what interest I shall get for my money, and give + particulars of the property. Then I will take it to my solicitor, if you + insist upon it, although I am willing to accept what you think is fair.” + </p> + <p> + “You must take it to a solicitor, of course,” he answered, thoughtfully. + “I may as well tell you at once, however, that he will probably advise you + against investing it in such a way.” + </p> + <p> + “That will make no difference at all,” she declared. “Solicitors hate all + investments, I know, except their horrid mortgages. There are only two + conditions that I shall make.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “The first is that you must not say a word of this to my sister.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake frowned. + </p> + <p> + “That is a little difficult,” he remarked. “It happens that your sister + knows something about the estate and my plans.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need to tell her the name of your partner,” Elizabeth said. + “I want this to be our secret entirely, yours and mine.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand fell upon his; he gripped the sides of his chair. Again he was + conscious of this bewildering, incomprehensible sensation. + </p> + <p> + “And the other condition?” he demanded, hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “That you come sometimes and tell me how things are going on.” + </p> + <p> + “Come here?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Please! I am very lonely. I shall look forward to your visits.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake rose slowly to his feet. He held out his hand—she knew + better than to attempt to keep him. He made a speech which was for him + gallant, but while he made it he looked into her eyes with a directness to + which she was indeed unaccustomed. + </p> + <p> + “I shall come,” he said. “I should have wanted to come, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + Then he turned abruptly away and left the room. It was the first speech of + its sort which he had ever made in his life. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. TAVERNAKE BLUNDERS + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake felt that he had indeed wandered into an alien world as he took + his place the following evening among the little crowd of people who were + waiting outside the stage-door of the Atlas Theatre. These were + surroundings to which he was totally unaccustomed. Two very handsome + motor-cars were drawn up against the curb, and behind them a string of + electric broughams and taxicabs, proving conclusively that the young + ladies of the Atlas Theatre were popular in other than purely theatrical + circles. + </p> + <p> + The handful of young men by whom Tavernake was surrounded were of a genus + unknown to him. They were all dressed exactly alike, they all seemed to + breathe the same atmosphere, to exhibit the same indifference towards the + other loungers. One or two more privileged passed in through the + stage-door and disappeared. Tavernake contented himself with standing on + the edge of the curbstone, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dark + overcoat, his bowler hat, which was not quite the correct shape, slightly + on the back of his head; his serious, stolid face illuminated by the gleam + from a neighboring gas lamp. + </p> + <p> + Presently, people began to emerge from the door. First of all, the + musicians and a little stream of stage hands. + </p> + <p> + Then a girl's hat appeared in the doorway, and the first of the Atlas + young ladies came out, to be claimed at once by her escort. Very soon + afterwards, Beatrice arrived. She recognized Tavernake at once and crossed + over to him. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “You looked very nice,” he said, slowly, as he led the way down the + street. “Of course, I knew about your singing, but everything else—seemed + such a surprise.” + </p> + <p> + “For instance?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I mean your dancing,” he went on, “and somehow or other you looked + different on the stage.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “'Different' won't do for me,” she persisted. “I must have something more + specific.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you looked much prettier than I thought you were,” Tavernake + declared, solemnly. “You looked exceedingly nice.” + </p> + <p> + “You really thought so?” she asked, a little doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I really thought so. I thought you looked much nicer than any of the + others.” + </p> + <p> + She squeezed his arm affectionately. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Leonard,” she said, “it's so nice to have you think so. Do you know, + Mr. Grier actually asked me out to supper.” + </p> + <p> + “What impertinence!” Tavernake muttered. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice threw her head back and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “My dear brother,” she protested, “it was a tremendous compliment. You + must remember that it was entirely through him, too, that I got the + engagement. Four pounds a week I am going to have. Just think of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Four pounds a week is all very well,” Tavernake admitted. “It seems a + great deal of money to earn like that. But I don't think you ought to go + out to supper with any one whom you know so slightly.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear prig! You know, you are a shocking prig, Leonard.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I?” he answered, without offence, and with the air of one seriously + considering the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you are. How could you help it, living the sort of life you've + led all your days? Never mind, I like you for it. I don't know whether I + want to go out to supper with anybody—I really haven't decided yet—but + if I did, it would certainly be better for me to go with Mr. Grier, + because he can do me no end of good at the theatre, if he likes.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was silent for several moments. He was conscious of feeling + something which he did not altogether understand. He only knew that it + involved a strong and unreasonable dislike to Mr. Grier. Then he + remembered that he was her brother, that he had the right to speak with + authority. + </p> + <p> + “I hope that you will not go out to supper with any one,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She began to laugh but checked herself. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she remarked, “that sounds very terrible. Shall we take a 'bus? To + tell you the truth, I am dying of hunger. We rehearsed for two hours + before the performance, and I ate nothing but a sandwich—I was so + excited.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake hesitated a moment—he certainly was not himself this + evening! + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to have some supper at a restaurant,” he asked, “before we + go home?” + </p> + <p> + “I should love it,” she declared, taking his arm as they passed through a + stream of people. “To tell you the truth, I was so hoping that you would + propose it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” Tavernake said, deliberately, “that there is a place a little + way along here.” + </p> + <p> + They pushed their way down the Strand and entered a restaurant which + Tavernake knew only by name. A small table was found for them and Beatrice + looked about with delight. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't this jolly!” she exclaimed, taking off her gloves. “Why, there are + five or six of the girls from the theatre here already. There are two, + see, at the corner table, and the fair-haired girl—she is just + behind me in the chorus.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake glanced around. The young women whom she pointed out were all + escorted by men who were scrupulously attired in evening dress. She seemed + to read his thoughts as she laughed at him. + </p> + <p> + “You stupid boy,” she said. “You don't suppose that I want to be like + them, do you? There are lots of things it's delightful to look on at, and + that's all. Isn't this fish good? I love this place.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked around him with an interest which he took no pains to + conceal. Certainly the little groups of people by whom they were + surrounded on every side had the air of finding some zest in life which up + to the present, at any rate, had escaped him. They came streaming in, + finding friends everywhere, laughing and talking, insisting upon tables in + impossible places, calling out greetings to acquaintances across the room, + chaffing the maitre d'hotel who was hastening from table to table. The + gathering babel of voices was mingled every now and then with the popping + of corks, and behind it all were the soft strains of a very seductive + little band, perched up in the balcony. Tavernake felt the color mounting + into his cheeks. It was true: there was something here which was new to + him! + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he asked her suddenly, “have you ever drunk champagne?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed at him. + </p> + <p> + “Often, my dear brother,” she answered. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “I never have,” he confessed. “We are going to have some now.” + </p> + <p> + She would have checked him but he had summoned a waiter imperiously and + given his order. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Leonard,” she protested, “this is shocking extravagance.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” he replied. “I don't care. Tell me about the theatre. Were they + kind to you there? Will you be able to keep your place?” + </p> + <p> + “The girls were all much nicer than I expected,” she told him, “and the + musical director said that my voice was much too good for the chorus. Oh, + I do hope that they will keep me!” + </p> + <p> + “They would be idiots if they didn't,” he declared, vigorously. “You sing + better and you dance more gracefully and to me you seemed much prettier + than any one else there.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “My dear brother,” she exclaimed, “your education is progressing indeed! + It is positively the first evening I have ever heard you attempt to make + pretty speeches, and you are quite an adept already.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that,” he protested. “I suppose it never occurred to + me before that you were good-looking,” he added, examining her critically, + “or I dare say I should have told you so. You see, one doesn't notice + these things in an ordinary way. Lots of other people must have told you + so, though.” + </p> + <p> + “I was never spoilt with compliments,” she said. “You see, I had a + beautiful sister.” + </p> + <p> + The words seemed to have escaped her unconsciously. Almost as they passed + her lips, her expression changed. She shivered, as though reminded of + something unpleasant. Tavernake, however, noticed nothing. For the greater + part of the day he had been sedulously fighting against a new and + unaccustomed state of mind. He had found his thoughts slipping away, time + after time, until he had had to set his teeth and use all his will power + to keep his attention concentrated upon his work. And now once more they + had escaped, again he felt the strange stir in his blood. The slight flush + on his cheek grew suddenly deeper. He looked past the girl opposite to + him, out of the restaurant, across the street, into that little + sitting-room in the Milan Court. It was Elizabeth who was there in front + of him. Again he heard her voice, saw the turn of her head, the slow, + delightful curve of the lips, the eyes that looked into his and spoke to + him the first strange whispers of a new language. His heart gave a quick + throb. He was for the moment transformed, a prisoner no longer, a + different person, indeed, from the stolid, well-behaved young man who + found himself for the first time in his life in these unaccustomed + surroundings. Then Beatrice leaned towards him, her voice brought him back + to the present—not, alas, the voice which at that moment he would + have given so much to have heard. + </p> + <p> + “To-night,” she murmured, “I feel as though we were at the beginning of + new things. We must drink a toast.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake filled her glass and his own. + </p> + <p> + “Luck to you in your new profession!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “And here is one after your own heart, you most curious of men!” she + exclaimed, a few seconds later. “To the undiscovered in life!” + </p> + <p> + He drained his glass and set it down empty. + </p> + <p> + “The undiscovered,” he muttered, looking around. “It is a very good toast, + Beatrice. There are many things of which one might remain ignorant all + one's life if one relied wholly upon one's own perceptions.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” she agreed, “that if I had not appeared you were in great + danger of becoming narrow.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it,” he answered, “but you see you came.” + </p> + <p> + She was thoughtful for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “This reminds me just a little of that first dreary feast of ours,” she + said. “You knew what it was like then to feed a genuinely starving girl. + And I was miserable, Leonard. It didn't seem to me that there was any + other end save one.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got over all that nonsense?” he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose so,” she answered. “You see, I've started life again and + one gets stronger. But there are times even now,” she added, “when I am + afraid.” + </p> + <p> + The mirth had suddenly died from her face. She looked older, tired, and + careworn. The shadows were back under her eyes; she glanced around almost + timorously. He filled her glass. + </p> + <p> + “That is foolishness,” he said. “Nothing nor anybody can harm you now.” + </p> + <p> + Some note in his voice attracted her attention. Strong and square, with + hard, forceful face, he sat wholly at his ease among these unfamiliar + surroundings, a very tower of refuge, she felt, to the weak. His face was + not strikingly intellectual—she was not sure now about his mouth—but + one seemed to feel that dogged nature, the tireless pains by which he + would pursue any aim dear to him. The shadows passed away from her mind. + What was dead was gone! It was not reasonable that she should be haunted + all her days by the ghosts of other people's sins. The atmosphere of the + place, the atmosphere of the last few hours, found its way again into her + blood. After all, she was young, the music was sweet, her pulses were + throbbing to the tune of this new life. She drank her wine and laughed, + her head beating time to the music. + </p> + <p> + “We have been sad long enough,” she declared. “You and I, my dear serious + brother, will embark in earnest now upon the paths of frivolity. Tell me, + how did things go to-day?” + </p> + <p> + It flashed into his mind that he had great news, but that it was not for + her. About that matter there was still doubt in his mind, but he could not + speak of it. + </p> + <p> + “I have had an offer,” he said guardedly. “I cannot say much about it at + present, for nothing is certain, but I am sure that I shall be able to + raise the money somehow.” + </p> + <p> + His tone was calm and confident. There was no self-assurance or bluster + about it, and yet it was convincing. She looked at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “You are a very positive person, Leonard,” she remarked. “You must have + great faith in yourself, I think.” + </p> + <p> + He considered the question for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I have,” he admitted. “I do not think that there is any other way + to succeed.” + </p> + <p> + The atmosphere of the place was becoming now almost languorous. The band + had ceased to play; little parties of men and women were standing about, + bidding one another goodnight. The lamps had been lowered, and in the + gloom the voices and laughter seemed to have become lower and more + insinuating; the lights in the eyes of the women, as they passed down the + room on their way out, softer and more irresistible. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose we must go,” she said reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake paid his bill and they turned into the street. She took his arm + and they turned westward. Even out here, the atmosphere of the restaurant + appeared to have found its way. The soberness of life, its harder and more + practical side, was for the moment obscured. It was not the daytime crowd, + this, whose footsteps pressed the pavements. The careworn faces of the + money-seekers had vanished. The men and women to whom life was something + of a struggle had sought their homes—resting, perhaps, before they + took up their labors again. Every moment taxicabs and motor-cars whirled + by, flashing upon the night a momentary impression of men in evening + dress, of women in soft garments with jewels in their hair. The spirit of + pleasure seemed to have crept into the atmosphere. Even the poorer people + whom they passed in the street, were laughing or singing. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “To-night,” he declared, “is not the night for omnibuses. We are going to + have a taxicab. I know that you are tired.” + </p> + <p> + “I should love it,” she admitted. + </p> + <p> + They hailed one and drove off. Beatrice leaned back among the cushions and + closed her eyes, her ungloved hand rested almost caressingly upon his. He + leaned forward. There were new things in the world—he was sure of it + now, sure though they were coming to him through the mists, coming to him + so vaguely that even while he obeyed he did not understand. Her full, soft + lips were slightly parted; her heavily-fringed eyelids closed; her deep + brown hair, which had escaped bounds a little, drooping over her ear. His + fingers suddenly clasped hers tightly. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice!” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + She sat up with a start, her eyes questioning his, the breath coming + quickly through her parted lips. + </p> + <p> + “Once you asked me to kiss you, Beatrice,” he said. “To-night—I am + going to.” + </p> + <p> + She made no attempt to repulse him. He took her in his arms and kissed + her. Even in that moment he knew that he had made a mistake. Nevertheless, + he kissed her again and again, crushing her lips against his. + </p> + <p> + “Please let me go, Leonard,” she begged at last. + </p> + <p> + He obeyed at once. He understood quite well that some strange thing had + happened. It seemed to him during those next few minutes that everything + which had passed that night was a dream, that this vivid picture of a life + more intense, making larger demands upon the senses than anything he had + yet experienced, was a mirage, a thing which would live only in his + memory, a life in which he could never take any part. He had blundered; he + had come into a new world and he had blundered. A sense of guilt was upon + him. He had a sudden wild desire to cry out that it was Elizabeth whom he + had kissed. Beatrice was sitting upright in her place, her head turned a + little away from him. He felt that she was expecting him to speak—that + there were inevitable words which he should say. His silence was a + confession. He would have lied but the seal was upon his lips. So the + moment passed, and Tavernake had taken another step forward towards his + destiny! ... + </p> + <p> + As he helped her out of the cab, her fingers tightened for a moment upon + his hand. She patted it gently as she passed out before him into the + house, leaving the door open. When he had paid the cabman and followed, + she had disappeared. He looked into the sitting-room; it was empty. + Overhead, he could hear her footsteps as she ascended to her room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. AN EVENING CALL + </h2> + <p> + In the morning, when he left for the city, she was not down. When he came + home in the evening, she was gone. Without removing his hat or overcoat, + he took the letter which he found propped up on the mantelpiece and + addressed to him to the window and read it. + </p> + <p> + DEAR BROTHER LEONARD,—It wasn't your fault and I don't think it was + mine. If either of us is to blame, it is certainly I, for though you are + such a clever and ambitious young person, you really know very little + indeed of the world,—not so much, I think, as I do. I am going to + stay for a few nights, at any rate, with one of the girls at the theatre, + who I know wants some one to share her tiny flat with her. Afterwards, I + shall see. + </p> + <p> + Don't throw this letter in the fire and don't think me ungrateful. I shall + never forget what you did for me. How could I? + </p> + <p> + I will send you my address as soon as I am sure of it, or you can always + write me to the theatre. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Good-bye, dear Leonard, + YOUR SISTER BEATRICE. +</pre> + <p> + Tavernake looked from the sheet of notepaper out across the gray square. + He knew that he was very angry, angry though he deliberately folded the + letter up and placed it in his pocket, angry though he took off his + overcoat and hung it up with his usual care; but his anger was with + himself. He had blundered badly. This episode of his life was one which he + had better forget. It was absolutely out of harmony with all his ideas. He + told himself that he was glad Beatrice was gone. Housekeeping with an + imaginary sister in this practical world was an absurdity. Sooner or later + it must have come to an end. Better now, before it had gone too far—better + now, much better! All the same, he knew that he was going to be very + lonely. + </p> + <p> + He rang the bell for the woman who waited upon them, and whom he seldom + saw, for Beatrice herself had supplied their immediate wants. He found + some dinner ready, which he ate with absolute unconsciousness. Then he + threw himself fiercely into his work. It was all very well for the first + hour or so, but as ten o'clock grew near he began to find a curious + difficulty in keeping his attention fixed upon those calculations. The + matter of average rentals, percentage upon capital—things which but + yesterday he had found fascinating—seemed suddenly irksome. He could + fix his attention upon nothing. At last he pushed his papers away, put on + his hat and coat, and walked into the street. + </p> + <p> + At the Milan Court, the hall-porter received his inquiry for Elizabeth + with an air of faint but well-bred surprise. Tavernake, in those days, was + a person exceedingly difficult to place. His clothes so obviously denoted + the station in life which he really occupied, while the slight + imperiousness of his manner, his absolute freedom from any sort of + nervousness or awkwardness, seemed to bespeak a consideration which those + who had to deal with him as a stranger found sometimes a little puzzling. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wenham Gardner is in her rooms, I believe, sir,” the man said. “If + you will wait for a moment, I will inquire.” + </p> + <p> + He disappeared into his office, thrusting his head out, a moment or two + later, with the telephone receiver still in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Gardner would like the name again, sir, please,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake repeated it firmly. + </p> + <p> + “You might say,” he added, “that I shall not detain her for more than a + few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + The man disappeared once more. When he returned, he indicated the lift to + Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “If you will go up to the fifth floor, sir,” he said, “Mrs. Gardner will + see you.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake found his courage almost leaving him as he knocked at the door + of her rooms. Her French maid ushered him into the little sitting-room, + where, to his dismay, he found three men, one sitting on the table, the + other two in easy-chairs. Elizabeth, in a dress of pale blue satin, was + standing before the mirror. She turned round as Tavernake entered. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake shall decide!” she exclaimed, waving her hand to him. “Mr. + Tavernake, there is a difference of opinion about my earrings. Major Post + here,”—she indicated a distinguished-looking elderly gentleman, with + carefully trimmed beard and moustache, and an eyeglass attached to a thin + band of black ribbon—“Major Post wants me to wear turquoises. I + prefer my pearls. Mr. Crease half agrees with me, but as he never agrees + with any one, on principle, he hates to say so. Mr. Faulkes is wavering. + You shall decide; you, I know, are one of those people who never waver.” + </p> + <p> + “I should wear the pearls,” Tavernake said. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth made them a little courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear friends,” she declared, “you have to come to England, + after all, to find a man who knows his own mind and speaks it without + fear. The pearls it shall be.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be decision,” Crease drawled, speaking with a slight American + accent, “or it may be gallantry. Mr. Tavernake knew your own choice.” + </p> + <p> + “The last word, as usual,” she sighed. “Now, if you good people will + kindly go on downstairs, I will join you in a few minutes. Mr. Tavernake + is my man of business and I am sure he has something to say to me.” + </p> + <p> + She dismissed them all pleasantly. As soon as the door was closed she + turned to Tavernake. Her manner seemed to become a shade less gracious. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why I came,” Tavernake confessed bluntly. “I was restless + and I wanted to see you.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him for a moment and then she laughed. Tavernake felt a + sense of relief; at least she was not angry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you strangest of mortals!” she exclaimed, holding out her hands. + “Well, you see me—in one of my most becoming gowns, too. What do you + think of the fit?” + </p> + <p> + She swept round and faced him again with an expectant look. Tavernake, who + knew nothing of women's fashions, still realized the superbness of that + one unbroken line. + </p> + <p> + “I can't think how you can move a step in it,” he said, “but you look—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. It was as though he had lost his breath. Then he set his teeth + and finished. + </p> + <p> + “You look beautiful,” he declared. “I suppose you know that. I suppose + they've all been telling you so.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “They haven't all your courage, dear Briton,” she remarked, “and if they + did tell me so, I am not sure that I should be convinced. You see, most of + my friends have lived so long and lived so quickly that they have learned + to play with words until one never knows whether the things they speak + come from their hearts. With you it is different.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Tavernake admitted, “with me it is different!” + </p> + <p> + She glanced at the clock. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “you have seen me and I am glad to have seen you, and + you may kiss my fingers if you like, and then you must run away. I am + engaged to have supper with my friends downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + He raised her fingers clumsily enough to his lips and kept them there for + a moment. When he let them go, she wrung them as though in pain, and + looked at him. She turned abruptly away. In a sense she was disappointed. + After all, he was an easy victim! + </p> + <p> + “Elise,” she called out, “my cloak.” + </p> + <p> + Her maid came hurrying from the next room. Elizabeth turned towards her, + holding out her shoulders. She nodded to Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “You know the way down, Mr. Tavernake? I shall see you again soon, sha'n't + I? Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + She scarcely glanced at him as she sent him away, yet Tavernake walked on + air. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. A WARNING FROM Mr. PRITCHARD + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake hesitated for a moment under the portico of the Milan Court, + looking out at the rain which had suddenly commenced to descend. He + scarcely noticed that he had a companion until the man who was standing by + his side addressed him. + </p> + <p> + “Say, your name is Tavernake, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, who had been on the point of striding away, turned sharply + around. The man who had spoken to him was wearing morning clothes of dark + gray tweed and a soft Homburg hat. His complexion was a little sallow and + he was clean-shaven except for a slight black moustache. He was smoking a + black cigar and his accent was transatlantic. Something about his + appearance struck Tavernake as being vaguely familiar, but he could not at + first recall where he had seen him before. + </p> + <p> + “That is my name, certainly,” Tavernake admitted. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to ask you a somewhat impertinent question,” his neighbor + remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you can ask it,” Tavernake rejoined. “I am not obliged to + answer, am I?” + </p> + <p> + The man smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “that's honest, at any rate. Are you in a hurry for a few + minutes?” + </p> + <p> + “I am in no particular hurry,” Tavernake answered. “What do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “A few nights ago,” the stranger continued, lowering his voice a little, + “I met you with a young lady whose appearance, for some reason which we + needn't go into, interested me. To-night I happened to overhear you + inquiring, only a few minutes ago, for the sister of the same young lady.” + </p> + <p> + “What you heard doesn't concern me in the least,” Tavernake retorted. “I + should say that you had no business to listen.” + </p> + <p> + His companion smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he declared, “I have always heard a good deal about British + frankness, and it seems to me that I'm getting some. Anyway, I'll tell you + where I come in. I am interested in Mrs. Wenham Gardner. I am interested, + also, in her sister, whom I think you know—Miss Beatrice Franklin, + not Miss Tavernake!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake made no immediate reply. The man was an American, without a + doubt. Perhaps he knew something of Beatrice. Perhaps this was one of the + friends of that former life concerning which she had told him nothing. + </p> + <p> + “You are not, by any chance, proposing,” Tavernake said at last, “to + discuss either of these ladies with me? I do not know you or what your + business may be. In any case, I am going now.” + </p> + <p> + The other laid his hand on Tavernake's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “You'll be soaked to the skin,” he protested. “I want you to come into the + smoking-room here with me for a few minutes. We will have a drink together + and a little conversation, if you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do mind,” Tavernake declared. “I don't know who you are and I don't + want to know you, and I am not going to talk about Mrs. Gardner, or any + other lady of my acquaintance, with strangers. Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, please, Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake hesitated. There was something curiously compelling in the + other's smooth, distinct voice. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like you to take this card,” he said. “I told you my name before but + I expect you've forgotten it,—Pritchard—Sam Pritchard. Ever + heard of me before?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “Not to have heard of me in the United States,” the other continued, with + a grim smile, “would be a tribute to your respectability. Most of the + crooks who find their way over here know of Sam Pritchard. I am a + detective and I come from New York.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake turned and looked the man over. There was something convincing + about his tone and appearance. It did not occur to him to doubt for a + moment a word of this stranger's story. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't anything against her—against either of them?” he asked, + quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing directly,” the detective answered. “All the same, you have been + calling upon Mrs. Wenham Gardner this evening, and if you are a friend of + hers I think that you had better come along with me and have that talk.” + </p> + <p> + “I will come,” Tavernake agreed, “but I come as a listener. Remember that + I have nothing to tell you. So far as you are concerned, I do not know + either of those ladies.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “I guess we'll let it go at that. All the same, if you + don't mind, we'll talk. Come this way and we'll get to the smoking-room + through the hotel. It's under cover.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake moved restlessly in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “What the devil is all this talk about crooks!” he exclaimed impatiently. + “I didn't come here to listen to this sort of thing. I am not sure that I + believe a word of what you say.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you,” Pritchard remarked, “without proof? Look here.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a leather case from his pocket and spread it out. There were a + dozen photographs there of men in prison attire. The detective pointed to + one, and with a little shiver Tavernake recognized the face of the man who + had been sitting at the right hand of Elizabeth. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say,” he faltered, “that Mrs. Gardner—” + </p> + <p> + The detective folded up his case and replaced it in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “we haven't any photographs of your lady friend there, nor + of her sister. And yet, it may not be so far off.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are trying to fasten anything upon those ladies,—” Tavernake + began, threateningly. + </p> + <p> + The detective laughed and patted him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't my business to try and fasten things upon any one,” he + interrupted. “At the same time, you seem to be a friend of Mrs. Wenham + Gardner, and it is just as well that some one should warn her.” + </p> + <p> + “Warn her of what?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + The detective looked at his cigar meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Make her understand that there is trouble ahead,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake sipped his whiskey and soda and lit a cigarette. Then he turned + in his chair and looked thoughtfully at his companion. Pritchard was a + striking-looking man, with hard, clean-cut features—a man of + determination. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pritchard, I am a clerk in an estate office. My people were + work-people and I am trying to better myself in the world. I haven't + learned how to beat about a subject, but I have learned a little of the + world, and I know that people such as you are not in the habit of doing + things without a reason. Why the devil have you brought me in here to talk + about Mrs. Gardner and her sister? If you've anything to say, why don't + you go to Mrs. Gardner herself and say it? Why do you come and talk to + strangers about their affairs? I am here listening to you, but I tell you + straight I don't like it.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Say, I am not sure that I don't like that sort of talk,” he declared. “I + know all about you, young man. You're in Dowling & Spence's office and + you've got to quit. You've got an estate you want financing. Miss Beatrice + Franklin was living under your roof—as your sister, I understand—until + yesterday, and Mrs. Gardner, for some reason of her own, seems to be doing + her best to add you to the list of her admirers. I am not sure what it all + means but I could make a pretty good guess. Here's my point, though. + You're right. I didn't bring you here for your health. I brought you here + because you can do me a service and yourself one at the same time, and + you'll be doing no one any harm, nobody you care about, anyway. I have no + grudge against Miss Beatrice. I'd just as soon she kept out of the trouble + that's coming.” + </p> + <p> + “What is this service?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard for the moment evaded the point. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say you can understand, Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “that in my + profession one has to sometimes go a long way round to get a man or a + woman just where you want them. Now we merely glanced at that table as we + came in, and I can tell you this for gospel truth—there isn't one of + that crowd that I couldn't, if I liked, haul back to New York on some + charge or another. You wonder why I don't do it. I'll tell you. It's + because I am waiting—waiting until I can bring home something more + serious, something that will keep them out of the way for just as long as + possible. Do you follow me, Mr. Tavernake?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I do,” Tavernake answered, doubtfully. “You are only talking of + the men, of course?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he agreed, “I am only talking of the men. At the same + time, I guess I'm not betraying any confidence, or telling you anything + that Mrs. Wenham Gardner doesn't know herself, when I say that she's doing + her best to qualify for a similar position.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that she is doing something against the law!” Tavernake + exclaimed, indignantly. “I don't believe it for a moment. If she is + associating with these people, it's because she doesn't know who they + are.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard flicked the ash from his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “every man has a right to his own opinions, and for my + part I like to hear any one stick up for his friends. It makes no odds to + me. However, here are a few facts I am going to bring before you. Four + months ago, one of the turns at a vaudeville show down Broadway consisted + of a performance by a Professor Franklin and his two daughters, Elizabeth + and Beatrice. The professor hypnotized, told fortunes, felt heads, and the + usual rigmarole. Beatrice sang, Elizabeth danced. People came to see the + show, not because it was any good but because the girls, even in New York, + were beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “A music-hall in New York!” Tavernake muttered. + </p> + <p> + The detective nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Among the young bloods of the city,” he continued, “were two brothers, as + much alike as twins, although they aren't twins, whose names were Wenham + and Jerry Gardner. There's nothing in fast life which those young men + haven't tried. Between them, I should say they represented everything that + was known of debauchery and dissipation. The eldest can't be more than + twenty-seven to-day, but if you were to see them in the morning, either of + them, before they had been massaged and galvanized into life, you'd think + they were little old men, with just strength enough left to crawl about. + Well, to cut a long story short, both of them fell in love with + Elizabeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Brutes!” Tavernake interjected. + </p> + <p> + “I guess they found Miss Elizabeth a pretty tough nut to crack,” the + detective went on. “Anyhow, you know what her price was from her name, + which is hers right enough. Wenham, who was a year younger than his + brother, was the first to bid it. Three months ago, Mr. and Mrs. Wenham + Gardner, Miss Beatrice, and the devoted father left New York in the + Lusitania and came to London.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is this Wenham Gardner, then?” Tavernake demanded. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard took his cigar case from his pocket and selected another cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Say, that's where you strike the nail right on the head,” he remarked. + “Where is this Wenham Gardner?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind telling you, Mr. Tavernake, that to discover his whereabouts + is exactly what I am over on this side for. I have a commission from the + family to find out, and a blank cheque to do it with.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that he has disappeared, then?” asked Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “Off the face of the earth, sir,” Pritchard replied. “Something like two + months ago, the young married couple, with Miss Beatrice, started for a + holiday tour somewhere down in the west of England. A few days after they + started, Miss Beatrice comes back to London alone. She goes to a + boarding-house, is practically penniless, but she has shaken her sister—has, + I believe, never spoken with her since. A little later, Elizabeth alone + turns up in London. She has plenty of money, more money than she has ever + had the control of before in her life, but no husband.” + </p> + <p> + “So far, I don't see anything remarkable about that,” Tavernake + interposed. + </p> + <p> + “That may or may not be,” Pritchard answered, drily. “This creature, + Wenham Gardner—I hate to call him a man—was her abject slave—up + till the time they reached London, at any rate. He would never have quit + of his own accord. He stopped quite suddenly communicating with all his + friends. None of their cables, even, were answered.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you go and ask Mrs. Gardner where he is?” Tavernake demanded + bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “I have already,” Pritchard declared, “taken that liberty. With tears in + her eyes, she assured me that after some slight quarrel, in which she + admits that she was the one to blame, her husband walked out of the house + where they were staying, and she has not seen him since. She was quite + ready with all the particulars, and even implored me to help find him.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot imagine,” Tavernake said, “why any one should disbelieve her.” + </p> + <p> + The detective smiled. + </p> + <p> + “There are a few little outside circumstances,” he remarked, looking at + the ash of his cigar. “In the first place, how do you suppose that this + young Wenham Gardner spent the last week of his stay in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “How should I know?” Tavernake replied, impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “By realizing every cent of his property on which he could lay his hands,” + the detective continued. “It isn't at any time an easy business, and the + Gardner interest is spread out in many directions, but he must have sailed + with something like forty thousand pounds in hard cash. A suspicious + person might presume that that forty thousand pounds has found its way to + the stronger of the combination.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything else?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “I won't worry you much more,” the detective answered. “There are a few + other circumstances which seem to need explanation, but they can wait. + There is one serious one, however, and that is where you come in.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” Tavernake remarked. “I was hoping you would come to that soon.” + </p> + <p> + “The two sisters, Beatrice and Elizabeth, have been together ever since we + can learn anything of their history. Those people who don't understand the + disappearance of Wenham Gardner would like to know why they quarreled and + parted, why Beatrice is keeping away from her sister in this strange + manner. I personally, too, should like to know from Miss Beatrice when she + last saw Wenham Gardner alive.” + </p> + <p> + “You want me to ask Miss Beatrice these things?” Tavernake demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It might come better from you,” Pritchard admitted. “I have written her + to the theatre but naturally she has not replied.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked curiously at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really suppose,” he asked, “that, even granted there were any + unusual circumstances in connection with that quarrel—do you + seriously suppose that Beatrice would give her sister away?” + </p> + <p> + The detective sighed. + </p> + <p> + “No doubt, Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “these young ladies are friends of + yours, and perhaps for that reason you are a little prejudiced in their + favor. Their whole bringing-up and associations, however, have certainly + not been of a strict order. I cannot help thinking that persuasion might + be brought to bear upon Miss Beatrice, that it might be pointed out to her + that a true story is the safest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you've finished,” Tavernake declared, “I'd like to tell you what + I think of your story. I think it's all d—d silly nonsense! This + Wenham Gardner, by your own saying, was half mad. There was a quarrel and + he's gone off to Paris or somewhere. As to your suggestions about Mrs. + Gardner, I think they're infamous.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard was unmoved by his companion's warmth. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's all right, Mr. Tavernake,” he affirmed. “I can quite + understand your feeling like that just at first. You see, I've been among + crime and criminals all my days, and I learn to look for a certain set of + motives when a thing of this sort happens. You've been brought up among + honest folk, who go the straightforward way about life, and naturally you + look at the same matter from a different point of view. But you and I have + got to talk this out. I want you to understand that those very charming + young ladies are not quite the class of young women whom you know anything + about. Mind you, I haven't a word to say against Miss Beatrice. I dare say + she's as straight as they make 'em. But—you must take another + whiskey and soda, Mr. Tavernake. Now, I insist upon it. Tim, come right + over here.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pritchard seemed to have forgotten what he was talking about. The room + had been suddenly invaded. The whole of the little supper party, whose + individual members he had pointed out to his companion, came trooping into + the room. They were all apparently on the best of terms with themselves, + and they all seemed to make a point of absolutely ignoring Pritchard's + presence. Elizabeth was the one exception. She was carrying a tiny Chinese + spaniel under one arm; with the fingers of her other hand she held a + tortoise-shell mounted monocle to her eye, and stared directly at the two + men. Presently she came languidly across the room to them. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” she said, “I had no idea that even your wide circle of + acquaintances, Mr. Pritchard, included my friend, Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + The two men rose to their feet. Tavernake felt confused and angry. It was + as though he had been playing the traitor in listening, even for a moment, + to these stories. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pritchard introduced himself to me only a few minutes ago,” he + declared. “He brought me in here and I have been listening to a lot of + rubbish from him of which I don't believe a single word.” + </p> + <p> + She flashed a wonderful smile upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pritchard is so very censorious,” she murmured. “He takes such a very + low view of human nature. After all, though, I suppose we must not blame + him. I think that as men and women we do not exist to him. We are simply + the pegs by means of which he can climb a little higher in the esteem of + his employers.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard took up his soft hat and stick. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Gardner,” he said, “I will confess that I have been wasting my time + with this young man. You are a trifle severe upon me. You may find, and + before long, that I am your best friend.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed delightfully. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Mr. Pritchard,” she exclaimed, “it is a strange thought, that! If + only I dared hope that some day it might come true!” + </p> + <p> + “More unlikely things, madam, are happening every hour,” the detective + remarked. “The world—our little corner of it, at any rate—is + full of anomalies. There might even come a time to any one of us three + when liberty was more dangerous than the prison cell itself.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded carelessly to Tavernake, and with a bow to Elizabeth turned and + left the room. Elizabeth remained as though turned to stone, looking after + him as he descended the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “The man is a fool!” Tavernake cried, roughly. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth shook her head and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “He is something far more ineffective,” she said. “He is just a little too + clever.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER, XV. GENERAL DISCONTENT + </h2> + <p> + Elizabeth did not at once rejoin her friends. Instead, she sank on to the + low settee close to where she had been standing, and drew Tavernake down + to her side. She waved her hand across at the others, who were calling for + her. + </p> + <p> + “In a moment, dear people,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Then she leaned back among the cushions and laughed at her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Mr. Tavernake,” she asked, “don't you feel that you have stepped + into a sort of modern Arabian Nights?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know Mr. Pritchard's weakness,” she continued. “He loves to throw a + glamour around everything he says or does. Because he honors me by + interesting himself in my concerns, he has probably told you all sorts of + wonderful things about me and my friends. A very ingenious romancer, Mr. + Pritchard, you know. Confess, now, didn't he tell you some stories about + us?” + </p> + <p> + She might have spared herself the trouble of beating about the bush. There + was no hesitation about Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “He said that your friends were every one of them criminals,” Tavernake + declared, “and he admitted that he was working hard at the present moment + to discover that you were one, too.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly but heartily. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what was his object,” she remarked, “in taking you into his + confidence.” + </p> + <p> + “He happened to know,” Tavernake explained, “that I was intimate with your + sister. He wanted me to ask Beatrice a certain question.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth laughed no more. She looked steadfastly into his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “And that question?” + </p> + <p> + “He wanted me to ask Beatrice why she left you and hid herself in London.” + </p> + <p> + She tried to smile but not very successfully. + </p> + <p> + “According to his story,” Tavernake continued, “you and Beatrice and your + husband were away together somewhere in the country. Something happened + there, something which resulted in the disappearance of your husband. + Beatrice came back alone and has not been near you since. Soon afterwards, + you, too, came back alone. Mr. Gardner has not been seen or heard of.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was bending over her dog, but even Tavernake, unobservant though + he was, could see that she was shaken. + </p> + <p> + “Pritchard is a clever man, generally,” she remarked, “diabolically + clever. Why has he told you all this, I wonder? He must have known that + you would probably repeat it to me. Why does he want to show me his hand?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no idea,” Tavernake replied. “These matters are all beyond me. + They do not concern me in any way. I am not keeping you from your friends? + Please send me away when you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't go just yet,” she begged. “Sit with me for a moment. Can't you + see,” she added, whispering, “that I have had a shock? Sit with me. I + can't go back to those others just yet.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake did as he was bidden. The woman at his side was still caressing + the little animal she carried. Watching her, however, Tavernake could see + that her bosom was rising and falling quickly. There was an unnatural + pallor in her cheeks, a terrified gleam in her eyes. Nevertheless, these + things passed. In a very few seconds she was herself again. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” she said, “it is not often that I give way. The only time I am + ever afraid is when there is something which I do not understand. I do not + understand Mr. Pritchard to-night. I know that he is my enemy. I cannot + imagine why he should talk to you. He must have known that you would + repeat all he said. It is not like him. Tell me, Mr. Tavernake, you have + heard all sorts of things about me. Do you believe them? Do you believe—it's + rather a horrible thing to ask, isn't it?” she went on hurriedly,—“do + you believe that I made away with my husband?” + </p> + <p> + “You surely do not need to ask me that question,” Tavernake answered, + fervently. “I should believe your word, whatever you told me. I should not + believe that you could do anything wrong.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand touched his for a moment and he was repaid. + </p> + <p> + “Don't think too well of me,” she begged. “I don't want to disappoint + you.” + </p> + <p> + Some one pushed open the swing doors and she started nervously. It was + only a waiter who passed through into the bar. + </p> + <p> + “What I think of you,” Tavernake said slowly, “nothing could alter, but + because I am stupid, I suppose, there is quite a good deal that I cannot + understand. I cannot understand, for instance, why they should suspect you + of having anything to do with your husband's disappearance. You can prove + where you were when he left you?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite easily,” she answered, “only, unfortunately, no one seems to have + seen him go. He timed his departure so cunningly that he apparently + vanished into thin air. Even then,” she continued, “but for one thing I + don't suppose that any one would have had suspicions. I dare say Mr. + Pritchard told you that before we left New York my husband sold out some + of his property and brought it over to Europe with him in cash. We had + both determined that we would live abroad and have nothing more to do with + America. It was not I who persuaded him to do this. It made no difference + to me. If he had run away and left me, the courts would have given me + money. If he had died and I had been a widow, he would have left me his + property. But simply because there was all this money in our hands, and + because he disappeared, his people and this man Pritchard suspect me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is wicked,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + She turned slowly towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she said, “do you know that you can help me very much + indeed?” + </p> + <p> + “I only wish I could,” he replied. “Try me.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't you see,” she went on, “that the great thing against me is that + Beatrice left me suddenly when we were on that wretched expedition, and + came back alone? She is in London, I know, quite close to me, and still + she hides. Pritchard asks himself why. Mr. Tavernake, go and tell her what + people are saying, go and tell her everything that has happened, let her + understand that her keeping away is doing me a terrible injury, beg her to + come and let people see that we are reconciled, and warn her, too, against + Pritchard. Will you do this for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will,” Tavernake answered. “I will see her to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth drew a little sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + “And you'll let me know what she says?” she asked, rising. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be only too glad to,” Tavernake assured her. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + She looked up into his face with a smile which had turned the heads of + hardened stagers in New York. No wonder that Tavernake felt his heart beat + against his ribs! He took her hands and held them for a moment. Then he + turned abruptly away. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night!” he said. + </p> + <p> + He disappeared through the swing doors. She strolled across the room to + where her friends were sitting in a circle, laughing and talking. Her + father, who had just come in and joined them, gripped her by the arm as + she sat down. + </p> + <p> + “What does it mean?” he demanded, with shaking voice. “Did you see that he + was there with Pritchard—your young man—that wretched estate + agent's clerk? I tell you that Pritchard was pumping him for all he was + worth.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear father,” she whispered, coldly, “don't be melodramatic. You give + yourself away the whole time. Go to bed if you can't behave like a man.” + </p> + <p> + The lights had been turned low, there was no one else in the room. The + little old gentleman with the eyeglass leaned forward. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any notion, my dear Elizabeth,” he asked, “why our friend + Pritchard is so much in evidence just at present?” + </p> + <p> + “Not on account of you, Jimmy,” she answered, “nor of any one else here, + in fact. The truth is he has conceived a violent admiration for me—an + admiration so pronounced, indeed, that he hates to let me out of his + sight.” + </p> + <p> + They all laughed uproariously. Then Walter Crease, the journalist, leaned + forward,—a man with a long, narrow face, yellow-stained fingers, and + hollow cheekbones. He glanced around the room before he spoke, and his + voice sounded like a hoarse whisper. + </p> + <p> + “See here,” he said, “seems to me Pritchard is getting mighty awkward. He + hasn't got his posse around him in this country, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence for several seconds. Then the little old + gentleman nodded solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “I am a trifle tired of Pritchard myself,” he admitted, “and he certainly + knows too much. He carries too much in his head to go around safely.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of Elizabeth were bright. + </p> + <p> + “He treats us like children,” she declared. “To-night he has told the + whole of my affairs to a perfect stranger. It is intolerable!” + </p> + <p> + The little party broke up soon after. Only Walter Crease and the man + called Jimmy Post were left talking, and they retired into the + window-seat, whispering together. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, with his hands thrust deep in his overcoat pockets, left the + hotel and strode along the Strand. Some fancy seized him before he had + gone many paces, and turning abruptly to the left he descended to the + Embankment. He made his way to the very seat upon which he had sat once + before with Beatrice. With folded arms he leaned back in the corner, + looking out across the river, at the curving line of lights, at the black, + turgid waters, the slowly-moving hulk of a barge on its way down the + stream. It was a new thing, this, for him to have to accuse himself of + folly, of weakness. For the last few days he had moved in a mist of + uncertainty, setting his heel upon all reflection, avoiding every issue. + To-night he could escape those accusing thoughts no longer; to-night he + was more than ever bitter with himself. What folly was this which had + sprung up in his life—folly colossal, unimaginable, as unexpected as + though it had fallen a thunderbolt from the skies! What had happened to + change him so completely! + </p> + <p> + His thought traveled back to the boarding-house. It was there that the + thing had begun. Before that night upon the roof, the finger-posts which + he had set up with such care and deliberation along the road which led + towards his coveted goal, had seemed to him to point with unfaltering + directness towards everything in life worthy of consideration. To-night + they were only dreary phantasms, marking time across a miserable plain. + Perhaps, after all, there had been something in his nature, some rebel + thing, intolerable yet to be reckoned with, which had been first born of + that fateful curiosity of his. It had leapt up so suddenly, sprung with + such scanty notice into strenuous and insistent life. Yet what place had + it there? He must fight against it, root it out with both hands. What was + this world of intrigue, this criminal, undesirable world, to him? His + common sense forbade him altogether to dissociate Elizabeth from her + friends, from her surroundings. She was the secret of the pain which was + tearing at his heartstrings, of all the excitement, the joy, the passion + which had swept like a full flood across the level way of his life, which + had set him drifting among the unknown seas. Yet it was Beatrice who had + brought this upon him. If she had never left, if he had not tasted the + horrors of this new loneliness, he might have been able to struggle on. He + missed her, missed her diabolically. The other things, marvelous though + they were, had been more or less like a mirage. This world of new emotions + had spread like a silken mesh over all his thoughts, over all his desires. + Beatrice had been a tangible person, restful, delightful, a real + companion, his one resource against this madness. And now she was gone, + and he was powerless to get her back. He turned his head, he looked up the + road along which he had torn that night with his arms around her. She owed + him her life and she had gone! With all a man's inconsequence, it seemed + to him as he rose heavily to his feet and started homeward, that she had + repaid him with a certain amount of ingratitude, that she had left him at + the one moment in his life when he needed her most. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE + </h2> + <p> + The next afternoon, at half-past four, Tavernake was having tea with + Beatrice in the tiny flat which she was sharing with another girl, off + Kingsway. She opened the door to him herself, and though she chattered + ceaselessly, it seemed to him that she was by no means at her ease. She + installed him in the only available chair, an absurd little wicker thing + many sizes too small for him, and seated herself upon the hearth-rug a few + feet away. + </p> + <p> + “You have soon managed to find me out, Leonard,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered. “I had to go to the stage doorkeeper for your + address.” + </p> + <p> + “He hadn't the slightest right to give it you,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I had to have it,” he said simply. + </p> + <p> + “The power of the purse again!” she laughed. “Now that you are here, I + don't believe that you are a bit glad to see me. Are you?” + </p> + <p> + He did not answer for a moment. He was thinking of that vigil upon the + Embankment, of the long walk home, of the battle with himself, the + continual striving to tear from his heart this new thing, for which, with + a curious and most masculine inconsistency, he persisted in holding her + responsible. + </p> + <p> + “You know, Leonard,” she continued, getting up abruptly and beginning to + make the tea, “I believe that you are angry with me. If you are, all I can + say is that you are a very foolish person. I had to come away. Can't you + see that?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” he answered stolidly. + </p> + <p> + She sighed. + </p> + <p> + “You are not a reasonable person,” she declared. “I suppose it is because + you have led such a queer life, and had no womenfolk to look after you. + You don't understand. It was absurd, in a way, that I should ever have + called myself your sister, that we should even have attempted such a + ridiculous experiment. But after—after the other night—” + </p> + <p> + “Can't we forget that?” he interrupted. + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “Can you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + There was a curious, almost a pleading earnestness in her tone. Her eyes + had something new to say, something which, though it failed to stir his + blood, made him vaguely uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he answered her + without hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied, “I could forget it. I will promise to forget it.” + </p> + <p> + It was unaccountable, but he almost fancied that he saw this new thing + pass from her face, leaving her pale and tremulous. She looked away again + and busied herself with the tea-caddy, but the fingers which held the + spoon were shaking a little. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose I could forget,” she said, “but it would be very difficult + for either of us to behave as though it had never happened. Besides, it + really was an impossible situation, you know,” she went on, looking down + into the tea-caddy. “It is much better for me to be here with Annie. You + can come and see me now and then and we can still be very good friends.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was annoyed. He said nothing, and Beatrice, glancing up, laughed + at his gloomy expression. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly are,” she declared, “the most impossible, the most + primitive person I ever met. London isn't Arcadia, you know, and you are + not my brother. Besides, you were such an autocrat. You didn't even like + my going out to supper with Mr. Grier.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate the fellow!” Tavernake admitted. “Are you seeing much of him?” + </p> + <p> + “He took us all out to supper last night,” she replied. “I thought it was + very kind of him to ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “Kind, indeed! Does he want to marry you?” Tavernake demanded. + </p> + <p> + She set down the teapot and again she laughed softly. In her plain black + gown, very simple, adorned only by the little white bow at her neck, + quakerlike and spotless, with the added color in her cheeks, too, which + seemed to have come there during the last few moments, she was a very + alluring person. + </p> + <p> + “He can't,” she declared. “He is married already.” + </p> + <p> + Then there came to Tavernake an inspiration, an inspiration so wonderful + that he gripped the sides of his chair and sat up. Here, after all, was + the way out for him, the way out from his garden of madness, the way to + escape from that mysterious, paralyzing yoke whose burden was already + heavy upon his shoulders. In that swift, vivid moment he saw something of + the truth. He saw himself losing all his virility, the tool and plaything + of this woman who had bewitched him, a poor, fond creature living only for + the kind words and glances she might throw him at her pleasure. In those + few seconds he knew the true from the false. Without hesitation, he + gripped with all the colossal selfishness of his unthinking sex at the + rope which was thrown to him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I do,” he said firmly. “Will you marry me, Beatrice?” + </p> + <p> + She threw her head back and laughed, laughed long and softly, and + Tavernake, simple and unversed in the ways of women, believed that she was + indeed amused. + </p> + <p> + “Neither you nor any one else, dear Leonard!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “But I want you to,” he persisted. “I think that you will.” + </p> + <p> + There was coquetry now in the tantalizing look she flashed him. + </p> + <p> + “Am I, too, then, one of these things to be attained in your life?” she + asked. “Dear Leonard, you mustn't say it like that. I don't like the look + of your jaw. It frightens me.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing to be afraid of in marrying me,” he answered. “I should + make you a very good husband. Some day you would be rich, very rich + indeed. I am quite sure that I shall succeed, if not at once, very soon. + There is plenty of money to be made in the world if one perseveres.” + </p> + <p> + She had the air of trying to take him seriously. + </p> + <p> + “You sound quite convincing,” she admitted, “but I do wish that you would + put all these thoughts out of your mind, Leonard. It doesn't sound like + you in the least. Remember what you told me that first night; you assured + me that women had not the slightest part in your life.” + </p> + <p> + “I have changed,” he confessed. “I did not expect anything of the sort to + happen, but it has. It would be foolish of me to deny it. I have been all + my life learning, Beatrice,” he continued, with a sudden curious softness + in his tone, “and yet, somehow or other, it seems to me that I never knew + anything at all until lately. There was no one to direct me, no one to + show me just what is worth while in life. You have taught me a great deal, + you have taught me how little I know. And there are things,” he went on, + solemnly, “of which I am afraid, things which I do not begin even to + understand. Can't you see how it is with me? I am really very ignorant. I + want some one who understands; I want you, Beatrice, very badly.” + </p> + <p> + She patted the back of his hand caressingly. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't talk like that, Leonard,” she said. “I shouldn't make you a + good wife. I am not going to marry any one.” + </p> + <p> + “And why?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “That is my secret,” she told him, looking into the fire. + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say that, you will never marry?” he persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I suppose I shall change, like other women,” she answered. “Just at + present, I feel like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it because your sister's marriage—” + </p> + <p> + She caught hold of both his hands; her eyes were suddenly full of terror. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't talk about Elizabeth,” she begged, “you please mustn't talk + about her. Promise that you won't.” + </p> + <p> + “But I came here to talk about her,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice, for a moment, said nothing. Then she threw down his hands and + laughed once more. As she flung herself back in her place, it seemed to + Tavernake that he saw once more the girl who had stood upon the roof of + the boarding-house. + </p> + <p> + “You came to talk about Elizabeth!” she exclaimed. “I forgot. Well, go on, + what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister is in trouble!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you her confidant?” Beatrice asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am not exactly that,” he admitted, “but she has asked me to come and + see you.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice had suddenly grown hard, her lips were set together, even her + attitude was uncompromising. + </p> + <p> + “Say exactly what you have to say,” she told him. “I will not interrupt.” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds foolish,” Tavernake declared, “because I know so little, but it + seems that your sister is being annoyed by a man named Pritchard, an + American detective. She tells me that he suspects her of being concerned + in some way with the disappearance of her husband. One of his reasons is + that you left her abruptly and went into hiding, that you will not see or + speak to her. She wishes you to be reconciled.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” Beatrice asked. + </p> + <p> + “It is all,” he replied, “so long as you understand its significance. If + you go to see your sister, or let her come to see you, this man Pritchard + will have one of his causes for suspicion removed.” + </p> + <p> + “So you came as Elizabeth's ambassador,” Beatrice said, half as though to + herself. “Well, here is my answer. I will not go to Elizabeth. If she + finds out my whereabouts and comes here, then I shall go away again and + hide. I shall never willingly exchange another word with her as long as I + live.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked at her doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “But she is your sister!” he explained. + </p> + <p> + “She is my sister,” Beatrice repeated, “and yet what I have said to you I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence. Tavernake felt unaccountably ill at ease. + Something had sprung up between them which he did not understand. He was + swift to recognize, however, the note of absolute finality in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “I have given my message,” he declared. “I shall tell her what you say. + Perhaps I had better go now.” + </p> + <p> + He half rose to his feet. Suddenly she lost control of herself. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard, Leonard,” she cried, “don't you see that you are being very + foolish indeed? You have been good to me. Let me try and repay it a + little. Elizabeth is my sister, but listen! What I say to you now I say in + deadly earnest. Elizabeth has no heart, she has no thought for other + people, she makes use of them and they count for no more to her than the + figures that pass through one's dreams. She has some sort of hateful + gift,” Beatrice continued, and her voice shook and her eyes flashed, “some + hateful gift of attracting people to her and making them do her bidding, + of spoiling their lives and throwing them away when they have ceased to be + useful. Leonard, you must not let her do this with you.” + </p> + <p> + He rose to his feet awkwardly. Very likely it was all true, and yet, what + difference did it make? + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + They stood, for a moment, hand in hand. Then they heard the sound of a key + in the lock. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Annie coming back!” Beatrice exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was introduced to Miss Annie Legarde, who thought he was a very + strange person indeed because he did not fit in with any of the types of + men, young or old, of whom she knew anything. And as for Tavernake, he + considered that Miss Annie Legarde would have looked at least as well in a + hat half the size, and much better without the powder upon her face. Her + clothes were obviously more expensive than Beatrice's, but they were put + on with less care and taste. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice came out on to the landing with him. + </p> + <p> + “So you won't marry me, Beatrice?” he said, as she held out her hand. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him for a moment and then turned away with a faint sob, + without even a word of farewell. He watched her disappear and heard the + door shut. Slowly he began to descend the stone steps. There was something + to him a little fateful about the closed door above, the long yet easy + descent into the street. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. THE BALCONY AT IMANO'S + </h2> + <p> + At six o'clock that evening, Tavernake rang up the Milan Court and + inquired for Elizabeth. There was a moment or two's delay and then he + heard her reply. Even over the telephone wires, even though he stood, + cramped and uncomfortable, in that stuffy little telephone booth, he felt + the quick start of pleasure, the thrill of something different in life, + which came to him always at the sound of her voice, at the slightest + suggestion of her presence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my friend, what fortune?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “None,” he answered. “I have done my best. Beatrice will not listen to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “She will not come and see me?” + </p> + <p> + “She will not.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, there was a + change in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “You have failed, then.” + </p> + <p> + “I did everything that could be done,” Tavernake insisted eagerly. “I am + quite sure that nothing anybody could say would move Beatrice. She is very + decided indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “I have another idea,” Elizabeth remarked, after a brief pause. “She will + not come to me; very well, I must go to her. You must take me there.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot do that,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice has refused absolutely to permit me to tell you or any one else + of her whereabouts,” he declared. “Without her permission I cannot do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he answered uncomfortably. + </p> + <p> + There was another silence. When she spoke again, her voice had changed for + the second time. Tavernake felt his heart sink as he listened. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said. “I thought that you were my friend, that you wished + to help me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” he replied, “but you would not have me break my word?” + </p> + <p> + “You are breaking your word with me,” she told him. + </p> + <p> + “It is a different thing,” he insisted. + </p> + <p> + “You will not take me there?” she said once more. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't go,” he begged. “Can't I see you somewhere for a few minutes this + evening?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid not,” Elizabeth replied coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going out?” he persisted. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to the Duke of York's Theatre with some friends,” she + answered. “I am sorry. You have disappointed me.” + </p> + <p> + She rang off and he turned away from the telephone booth into the street. + It seemed to him, as he walked down the crowded thoroughfare, that some + reflection of his own self-contempt was visible in the countenances of the + men and women who were hurrying past him. Wherever he looked, he was + acutely conscious of it. In his heart he felt the bitter sense of shame of + a man who wilfully succumbs to weakness. Yet that night he made his + efforts. + </p> + <p> + For four hours he sat in his lonely rooms and worked. Then the unequal + struggle was ended. With a groan he caught up his hat and coat and left + the house. Half an hour later, he was among the little crowd of loiterers + and footmen standing outside the doors of the Duke of York's Theatre. + </p> + <p> + It was still some time before the termination of the performance. As the + slow minutes dragged by, he grew to hate himself, to hate this new thing + in his life which had torn down his everyday standards, which had carried + him off his feet in this strange and detestable fashion. It was a dormant + sense, without a doubt, which Elizabeth had stirred into life—the + sense of sex, quiescent in him so long, chiefly through his perfect + physical sanity; perhaps, too, in some measure, from his half-starved + imagination. It was significant, though, that once aroused it burned with + surprising and unwavering fidelity. The whole world of women now were + different creatures to him, but they left him as utterly unmoved as in his + unawakened days. It was Elizabeth only he wanted, craved for fiercely, + with all this late-born passion of mingled sentiment and desire. He felt + himself, as he hung round there upon the pavement, rubbing shoulders with + the liveried servants, the loafers, and the passers-by, a thing to be + despised. He was like a whipped dog fawning back to his master. Yet if + only he could persuade her to come with him, if it were but for an hour! + If only she would sit opposite him in that wonderful little restaurant, + where the lights and the music, the laughter and the wine, were all + outward symbols of this new life from before which her fingers seemed to + have torn aside the curtains! His heart beat with a fierce impatience. He + watched the thin stream of people who left before the play was over, + suburbanites mostly, in a hurry for their trains. Very soon the whole + audience followed, commissionaires were busy with their whistles, the + servants eagerly looking right and left for their masters. And then + Elizabeth! She came out in the midst of half-a-dozen others, brilliant in + a wonderful cloak and dress of turquoise blue, laughing with her friends, + to all appearance the gayest of the party. Tavernake stepped quickly + forward, but at that moment there was a crush and he could not advance. + She passed within a yard of him, escorted by a couple of men, and for a + moment their eyes met. She raised her eyebrows, as though in surprise, and + her recognition was of the slightest. She passed on and entered a waiting + motorcar, accompanied by the two men. Tavernake stood and looked after it. + She did not even glance round. Except for that little gesture of cold + surprise, she had ignored him. Tavernake, scarcely knowing what he did, + turned slowly towards the Strand. + </p> + <p> + He was face to face now with a crisis before which he seemed powerless. + Men were there in the world to be bullied, cajoled, or swept out of the + way. What did one do with a woman who was kind one moment and insolent the + next, who raised her eyebrows and passed on when he wanted her, when he + was there longing for her? Those old solid dreams of his—wealth, + power, his name on great prospectuses, a position in the world—these + things now appeared like the day fancies of a child. He had seen his way + towards them. Already he had felt his feet upon the rungs of the ladder + which leads to material success. This was something different, something + greater. Then a sense of despair chilled his heart. He felt how ignorant, + how helpless he was. He had not even studied the first text-book of life. + Those very qualities which had served him so well before were hopeless + here. Persistence, Beatrice had told him once, only annoys a woman. + </p> + <p> + He came to a standstill outside the entrance to the Milan Court, and + retraced his steps. The thought of Beatrice had brought something soothing + with it. He felt that he must see her, see her at once. He walked back + along the Strand and entered the restaurant where Beatrice and he had had + their memorable supper. From the vestibule he could just see Grier's back + as he stood talking to a waiter by the side of a round table in the middle + of the room. Tavernake slowly withdrew and made his way upstairs. There + were one or two little tables there in the balcony, hidden from the lower + part of the room. He seated himself at one, handing his coat and hat + mechanically to the waiter who came hurrying up. + </p> + <p> + “But, Monsieur,” the man explained, with a deprecating gesture, “these + tables are all taken.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, who kept an account book in which he registered even his car + fares, put five shillings in the man's hand. + </p> + <p> + “This one I will have,” he said, firmly, and sat down. + </p> + <p> + The man looked at him and turned aside to speak to the head waiter. They + conversed together in whispers. Tavernake took no notice. His jaw was set. + Himself unseen, he was gazing steadfastly at that table below. The head + waiter shrugged his shoulders and departed; his other clients must be + mollified. There was a finality which was unanswerable about Tavernake's + methods. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake ate and drank what they brought to him, ate and drank and + suffered. Everything was as it had been that other night—the popping + of corks, the soft music, the laughter of women, the pleasant, luxurious + sense of warmth and gayety pervading the whole place. + </p> + <p> + It was all just the same, but this time he sat outside and looked on. + Beatrice was seated next Grier, and on her other side was a young man of + the type which Tavernake detested, partly because it inspired him with a + reluctant but insistent sense of inferiority. The young man was handsome, + tall, and thin. His evening clothes fitted him perfectly, his studs and + links were of the latest mode, his white tie arranged as though by the + fingers of an artist. And yet he was no tailor's model. A gentleman, + beyond a doubt, Tavernake decided, watching grudgingly the courteous + movement of his head, listening sometimes to his well-bred but rather + languid voice. Beatrice laughed often into his face. She admired him, of + course. How could she help it! Grier sat at her other side. He, too, + talked to her whenever he had the chance. It was a new fever which + Tavernake was tasting, a new fever burning in his blood. He was jealous; + he hated the whole party below. In imagination he saw Elizabeth with her + friends, supping most likely in that other, more resplendent restaurant, + only a few yards away. He imagined her the centre of every attention. + Without a doubt, she was looking at her neighbor as she had looked at him. + Tavernake bit his lip, frowning. If he had had it in his power, in those + black moments, to have thrown a thunderbolt from his place, he would have + wrecked every table in the room, he would have watched with joy the white, + startled faces of the revelers as they fled away into the night. It was a + new torture, indescribable, bitter. Indeed, this curiosity of his, of + which he had spoken to Beatrice as they had walked together down Oxford + Street on that first evening, was being satisfied with a vengeance! He was + learning of those other things of life. He had sipped at the sweetness; he + was drinking the bitters! + </p> + <p> + An altercation by his side distracted him. Again there was the head waiter + and a protesting guest. Tavernake looked up and recognized Professor + Franklin. With his broad-brimmed hat in his hand, the professor, in fluent + phraseology and a strong American accent, was making himself decidedly + disagreeable. + </p> + <p> + “You had better send for your manager right away, young man,” he declared. + “On Tuesday night he brought me here himself and I engaged this table for + the week. No, I tell you I won't have any other! I guess my order was good + enough. You send for Luigi right here. You know who I am? Professor + Franklin's my name, from New York, and if I say I mean to have a thing, I + expect to get it.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time he recognized Tavernake, and paused for a moment in his + speech. + </p> + <p> + “Have I got your table, Professor?” Tavernake asked, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “You have, sir,” the professor answered. “I did not recognize you when I + came in or I would have addressed you personally. I have particular + reasons for occupying a front table here every night this week.” + </p> + <p> + The thoughts began to crowd in upon Tavernake's brain. He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Why not sit down with me?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + The professor acquiesced without a word. The head waiter, with a sigh of + relief, took his hat and overcoat and accepted his order. Tavernake leaned + across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Professor,” he said, “why do you insist upon sitting up here?” + </p> + <p> + The professor moved his head slowly downwards. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend, I speak to you in confidence?” + </p> + <p> + “In confidence,” Tavernake repeated. + </p> + <p> + “I come here secretly,” the professor continued, “because it is the only + chance I have of seeing a very dear relative of mine. I am obliged to keep + away from her just now, but from here I can watch, I can see that she is + well.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean your daughter Beatrice,” Tavernake said, calmly. + </p> + <p> + The professor trembled all over. + </p> + <p> + “You know!” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” Tavernake answered. “I have been able to be of some slight + assistance to your daughter Beatrice.” + </p> + <p> + The professor grasped his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” he said, “Elizabeth is very angry with you because you will + not tell her where to find the little girl. You are right, Mr. Tavernake. + You must never tell her.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't intend it,” Tavernake declared. + </p> + <p> + “Say, this is a great evening for me!” the professor went on, eagerly. “I + found out by accident myself. I was at the bar and I saw her come in with + a lot of others.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you go and speak to her?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + The professor shivered. + </p> + <p> + “There has been a disagreement,” he explained. “Beatrice and Elizabeth + have quarreled. Mind you, Beatrice was right.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why don't you go to her instead of staying with Elizabeth?” + Tavernake demanded, bluntly. + </p> + <p> + The professor temporarily collapsed. He drank heavily of the whiskey and + soda by his side, and answered gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he said, “Beatrice, when she left us, was penniless. + Mind you, Elizabeth is the one with brains. It is Elizabeth who has the + money. She has a strong will, too. She keeps me there whether I will or + not, she makes me do many things—many things, surely—which I + hate. But Elizabeth has her way. If I had gone with Beatrice, if I were to + go to her now, I should be only a burden upon her.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no money, then?” Tavernake remarked. + </p> + <p> + The professor shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Speculations, my young friend,” he replied, “speculations undertaken + solely with the object of making a fortune for my children. I have had + money and lost it.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't you earn any?” Tavernake asked. “Beatrice doesn't seem + extravagant.” + </p> + <p> + The professor regarded this outspoken young man with an air of hurt + dignity. + </p> + <p> + “If you will forgive me,” he said. “I think that we will choose another + subject of conversation.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate,” Tavernake declared, “you must be fond of your daughter or + you would not come here night after night just to look at her.” + </p> + <p> + The professor shook out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice was always my favorite,” he announced solemnly, “but Elizabeth—well, + you can't get away from Elizabeth,” he added, leaning across the table. + “To tell you the truth, Mr. Tavernake, Elizabeth terrifies me sometimes, + she is so bold. I am afraid where her scheming may land us. I would be + happier with Beatrice if only she had the means to satisfy my trifling + wants.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the waiter and ordered a pint of champagne. + </p> + <p> + “Veuve Clicquot '99,” he instructed the man. “At my age,” he remarked, + with a sigh, “one has to be careful about these little matters. The wrong + brand of champagne means a sleepless night.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked at him in a puzzled way. The professor was a riddle to + him. He represented no type which had come within the orbit of his + experience. With the arrival of the champagne, the professor became almost + eloquent. He leaned forward, gazing stealthily down at the round table. + </p> + <p> + “If I could tell you of that girl's mother, Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “if I + could tell you what her history, our history, has been, it would seem to + you so strange that you would probably regard me as a romancer. No, we + have to carry our secrets with us.” + </p> + <p> + “By-the-bye,” Tavernake asked, “what are you a professor of?” + </p> + <p> + “Of the hidden sciences, sir,” was the immediate reply. “Phrenology was my + earliest love. Since then I have studied in the East; I have spent many + years in a monastery in China. I have gratified in every way my natural + love of the occult. I represent today those people of advanced thought who + have traveled, even in spirit, for ever such a little distance across the + line which divides the Seen from the Unseen, the Known from the Infinite.” + </p> + <p> + He took a long draught of champagne. Tavernake gazed at him in blank + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know much about science,” he said. “It is only lately that I have + begun to realize how ignorant I really am. Your daughter has helped to + teach me.” + </p> + <p> + The professor sighed heavily. + </p> + <p> + “A young woman of attainments, sir,” he remarked, “of character, too. Look + at the way she carries her head. That was a trick of her mother's.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you mean to speak to her at all, then?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “I dare not,” the professor replied. “I am naturally of a truthful + disposition, and if Elizabeth were to ask me if I had spoken to her + sister, I should give myself away at once. No, I look on and that is all.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake drummed with his fingers upon the tablecloth. Something in the + merriment of that little party downstairs had filled him with a very + bitter feeling. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to go and claim her, professor,” he declared. “Look down at + them now. Is that the best life for a girl? The men are almost strangers + to her, and the girls are not fit for her to associate with. She has no + friends, no relatives. Your daughter Elizabeth can do without you very + well. She is strong enough to take care of herself.” + </p> + <p> + “But my dear sir,” the professor objected, “Beatrice could not support + me.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake paid his bill without another word. Downstairs the lights had + been lowered, the party at the round table were already upon their feet. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, professor!” he said. “I am going to see the last of Beatrice + from the top of the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + The professor followed him—they stood there and watched her depart + with Annie Legarde. The two girls got into a taxicab together, and + Tavernake breathed a sigh of relief, a relief for which he was wholly + unable to account, when he saw that Grier made no effort to follow them. + As soon as the taxi had rolled away, they descended and passed into the + street. Then the professor suddenly changed his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “I know what you are thinking about me: I am a + weak old man who drinks too much and who wasn't born altogether honest. I + can't give up anything. I'd be happier, really happier, on a crust with + Beatrice, but I daren't, I simply daren't try it. I prefer the flesh pots + with Elizabeth, and you despise me for it. I don't blame you, Mr. + Tavernake, but listen.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” Tavernake interjected. + </p> + <p> + The professor's fingers gripped his arm. + </p> + <p> + “You've known Beatrice longer—you don't know Elizabeth very well, + but let me tell you this. Elizabeth is a very wonderful person. I know + something about character, I know something about those hidden powers + which men and women possess—strange powers which no one can + understand, powers which drag a man to a woman's feet, or which make him + shiver when he passes another even in a crowd. You see, these things are a + science with me, Mr. Tavernake, but I don't pretend to understand + everything. All I know is that Elizabeth is one of those people who can + just do what she likes with men. I am her father and I am her slave. I + tell myself that I would rather be with Beatrice, and I am as powerless to + go as though I were bound with chains. You are a young ignorant man, Mr. + Tavernake, you know nothing of life, and I will give you a word of + warning. It is better for you that you keep away from over there.” + </p> + <p> + He raised one hand and pointed across the street towards the Milan Court; + with the other he once more gripped Tavernake's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Why she should take the trouble even to speak with you for a moment, I do + not know,” the professor continued, “but she does. It has pleased her to + talk with you—why I can't imagine—only if I were you I would + get away while there is yet time. She is my daughter but she has no heart, + no pity. I saw her smile at you. I am sorry always for the man she smiles + upon like that. Goodnight, Mr. Tavernake!” + </p> + <p> + The professor crossed the street. Tavernake watched him until he was out + of sight. Then he felt an arm thrust through his. + </p> + <p> + “Why, this is what I call luck!” a familiar voice exclaimed. “Mr. + Tavernake, you're the very man I was looking for!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake was not sociably inclined and took no pains to conceal the fact. + Mr. Pritchard, however, was not easily to be shaken off. + </p> + <p> + “So you've been palling up to the old man, eh?” he remarked, in friendly + fashion. + </p> + <p> + “I came across the professor unexpectedly,” Tavernake answered, coldly. + “What do you want with me, please? I am on my way home.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laughed softly to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Say, there's something about you Britishers I can't help admiring!” he + declared. “You are downright, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you think we are too clumsy to be anything else,” Tavernake + replied. “This is my 'bus coming. Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard's hand, however, tightened upon his companion's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, young man,” he said, “don't you be foolish. I'm a valuable + acquaintance for you, if you only realized it. Come along across the + street with me. My club is on the Terrace, just below. Stroll along there + with me and I'll tell you something about the professor, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” Tavernake answered, “I don't think I care about hearing + gossip. Besides, I think I know all there is to be known about him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you give Miss Beatrice my message?” Pritchard asked suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “If I did,” Tavernake replied, “I have no answer for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell her this,” Pritchard began,— + </p> + <p> + “No, I will tell her nothing!” Tavernake interrupted. “You can look after + your own affairs. I have no interest in them and I don't want to have. + Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laughed again but he did not relax his grasp upon the other's + arm. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Tavernake,” he said, “it won't do for you to quarrel with me. I + shouldn't be surprised if you discovered that I am one of the most useful + acquaintances you ever met in your life. You needn't come into the club + unless you like, but walk as far as there with me. When we get on to the + Terrace, with closed houses on one side and a palisade upon the other, I + am going to say something to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” Tavernake decided, reluctantly. “I don't know what there is + you can have to tell me, but I'll come as far as there, at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + They crossed the Strand and turned into Adam Street. As they neared the + further corner, Pritchard stepped from the pavement into the middle of the + street, and looked searchingly around. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you'll excuse my being a little careful,” he remarked. “This is + rather a lonely part for the middle of London, and I have been followed + for the last two days by people whose company I am not over keen about.” + </p> + <p> + “Followed? What for?” Tavernake demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the usual thing!” answered the detective, with a shrug of the + shoulders. “That company of crooks I showed you last night don't fancy + having me around. They've a good many grudges up against Sam Pritchard. I + am not quite so safe over here as I should be in New York. Most of them + are off to Paris tomorrow, thank Heavens!” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” Tavernake asked. “Are you going, too?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “If only those fools would believe it, I'm not over here on their business + at all. I came over on a special commission this time, as you know. I have + a word of warning for you, Mr. Tavernake. I guess you won't like to hear + it, but you've got to.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want your warnings!” he said angrily. “I don't want you + interfering in my affairs!” + </p> + <p> + The detective smiled quietly. Then a new expression suddenly tightened his + lips. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about that just now!” he exclaimed. “See here, take this + police whistle from my left hand, quick, and blow it for all that you are + worth!” + </p> + <p> + It was characteristic of Tavernake that he was prepared to obey without a + second's hesitation. The opportunity, however, was denied him. The events + which followed came and passed like a thought. A blow on his left wrist + and the whistle fell into the road. A dark figure had sprung up, + apparently from space; a long arm was twined around Pritchard's neck, + bending him backwards; there was a gleam of steel within a few inches of + his throat. And then Tavernake saw a wonderful thing. With a turn of his + wrist, Pritchard suddenly seemed to lift the form of his assailant into + the air. Tavernake caught a swift impression of a man's white face, the + head pointing to the street, the legs twitching convulsively. Head over + heels Pritchard seemed to throw him, while the knife clattered harmlessly + into the roadway. The man lay crumpled up and moaning before the door of + one of the houses. Pritchard sprang after him. The door had been + cautiously opened and the man crawled through; Pritchard followed; then + the door closed and Tavernake beat upon it in vain. + </p> + <p> + For several seconds—it seemed to Tavernake much longer—he + stood gazing at the door, breathing heavily, absolutely unable to collect + his thoughts. The whole affair had happened with such amazing celerity! He + could not bring himself to realize it, to believe that it was Pritchard + who had been with him only a few seconds ago, who in danger of his life + had performed that marvelous trick of jiu-jutsu, had followed his unknown + assailant into that dark, mysterious house, from no single window of which + was a single gleam of light visible. Tavernake had led an uneventful life. + Of the passions which breed murder and the desire to kill he knew nothing. + He was dazed with the suddenness of it all. How could such a thing happen + in the midst of London, in a thoroughfare only momentarily deserted, at + the further end of which, indeed, were many signs of life! Then the + thought of that knife made him shiver—blue glittering steel cutting + the air like whipcord. He remembered the look in the assassin's face—horrible, + an epitome of the passions, which seemed to reveal to him in that moment + the existence of some other, some unknown world, about which he had + neither read nor dreamed. + </p> + <p> + The sound of footsteps came as an immense relief. A man came round the + corner, smoking a cigarette and humming softly to himself. The presence of + another human being seemed suddenly to bring Tavernake's feet back upon + the earth. He moved toward the pavement and addressed the newcomer. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me how to get inside that house?” he asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + The man removed the cigarette from his mouth and stared at his questioner. + </p> + <p> + “I should ring the bell,” he replied, “but surely it's unoccupied? What do + you want to get in there for?” + </p> + <p> + “Less than a minute ago,” Tavernake told him, “I was walking here with a + friend. A man came up behind us and tried deliberately to stab him. He + bolted afterwards through that door, my friend followed him, the door was + closed in my face.” + </p> + <p> + The newcomer was a youngish man, a musician, who had just come from a + concert and was on his way to the club at the end of the street. Probably, + had he been a journalist, his curiosity would have been greater than his + incredulity. As it was, however, he gazed at Tavernake, for a moment, + blankly. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “this doesn't sound a very likely story of yours, + you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care whether it's likely or not,” Tavernake answered hotly; “it's + true! The knife's somewhere in the road there—it fell up against the + railings.” + </p> + <p> + They crossed the road together and searched. There were no signs of the + weapon. Tavernake peered over the railings. + </p> + <p> + “When my friend struck the other man and twisted him over,” he explained, + “the knife seemed to fly up into the air; it might even have reached the + gardens.” + </p> + <p> + His companion turned slowly away. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's no use looking down there for it,” he remarked. “We might try + the door, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + They leaned their weight against it, hammered at the panels, and waited. + The door was fast closed and no reply came. The musician shrugged his + shoulders and prepared to depart, after one more glance at Tavernake, half + suspicious, half questioning. + </p> + <p> + “If you think it worth while,” he said, “you had better fetch the police, + perhaps. If you take my advice, though, I think I should go home and + forget all about it.” + </p> + <p> + He passed on, leaving Tavernake speechless. The idea that people might not + believe his story had never seriously occurred to him. Yet all of a sudden + he began to doubt it himself. He stepped back into the road and looked up + at the windows of the house—dark, uncurtained, revealing no sign of + life or habitation. Had he really taken that walk with Pritchard, stood on + this spot with him only a minute or two ago? Then he picked up the police + whistle and he had no longer any doubts. The whole scene was before him + again, more vividly than ever. Even at this moment, Pritchard might be in + need of help! + </p> + <p> + He turned and walked sharply to the corner of the Terrace, finding himself + almost immediately face to face with a policeman. + </p> + <p> + “You must come into this house with me at once!” Tavernake exclaimed, + pointing backwards. “A friend of mine was attacked here just now; a man + tried to stab him. They are both in that house. The man ran away and my + friend followed him. The door is closed and no one answers.” + </p> + <p> + The constable looked at Tavernake very much as the musician had done. + </p> + <p> + “Do either of them live there, sir?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “How should I know!” Tavernake answered. “The man sprang upon my friend + from behind. He had a knife in his hand—I saw it. My friend threw + him over and he escaped into that house. They are both there now. + </p> + <p> + “Which house is it, sir?” the policeman inquired. + </p> + <p> + They were standing almost in front of it. The gate was open and Tavernake + beat against the panels with the flat of his hand. Then, with a cry of + triumph, he stooped down and picked something up from a crack in the + flagged stones. + </p> + <p> + “The key!” he cried. “Come on, quick!” + </p> + <p> + He thrust it into the lock and turned it; the door swung smoothly open. + The policeman laid his hand upon Tavernake's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “let's have that story of yours again, a little more + clearly. Who is it that's in this house?” + </p> + <p> + “Five minutes ago,” Tavernake began, speaking rapidly, “I met a man in the + Strand whom I know slightly—Pritchard, an American detective. He + said that he had something to say to me and he asked me to walk round with + him to a club in this Terrace. We were in the middle of the road there, + talking, when a man sprang at him; he must have come up behind quite + noiselessly. The man had a knife in his hand. My friend threw him head + over heels—it was some trick of jiu-jutsu; I have seen it done at + the Polytechnic. He fell in front of this door which must either have been + ajar or else some one who was waiting must have let him in. He crawled + through and my friend followed him. The door was slammed in my face.” + </p> + <p> + “How long ago was this?” the policeman asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not much more than five minutes,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + The policeman coughed. + </p> + <p> + “It's a very queer story, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “It's true!” Tavernake declared, fiercely. “You and I have got to search + this house.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman nodded. + </p> + <p> + “There's no harm in that, sir, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + He flashed his lantern around the hall—unfurnished, with paper + hanging from the walls. Then they began to enter the rooms, one by one. + Nowhere was there any sign of occupation. From floor to floor they passed, + in grim silence. In the front chamber of the attic was a camp bedstead, + two or three humble articles of furniture, and a small stove. + </p> + <p> + “Caretaker's kit,” the policeman muttered. “Nothing seems to have been + used for some time.” + </p> + <p> + They descended the stairs again. + </p> + <p> + “You say you saw the two men enter this house, sir?” the policeman + remarked doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” Tavernake declared. “There is no doubt about it.” + </p> + <p> + “The back entrances are all properly locked,” the policeman pointed out. + “None of the windows by which any one could escape have been opened. We've + been into every room. There's no one in the house now, sir, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “There doesn't seem to be,” Tavernake admitted. + </p> + <p> + The policeman looked him over once more; Tavernake certainly had not the + appearance of one attempting a hoax. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid there is nothing more we can do, sir,” the man said civilly. + “You had better give me your name and address.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't we go over the place once more?” Tavernake suggested. “I tell you I + saw them come in.” + </p> + <p> + “I have my beat outside to look after, sir,” the constable answered. “If + it wasn't that you seem respectable, I should begin to think that you + wanted me out of the way for a bit. Name and address, please.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake gave them readily. They passed out together into the street. + </p> + <p> + “I shall report this matter,” the man said, closing his book. “Perhaps the + sergeant will have the house searched again. If you take my advice, sir,” + he added, “you'll go home.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw them both pass through that door,” Tavernake repeated, half to + himself, still standing upon the pavement and staring at the unlit + windows. + </p> + <p> + The constable made no reply but moved off. Soon he reached the corner of + the Terrace and disappeared. Tavernake slowly crossed the road and with + his back to the railings looked steadfastly at the dark front of gray + stone houses. Big Ben struck one o'clock, several people passed backwards + and forwards. Men were coming out from the club, and separating for the + night; the roar of the city was growing fainter. Yet Tavernake felt + indisposed to move. The look in that man's drawn white face and black eyes + haunted him, There was tragedy there, the shadow of terrible things, fear, + and the murderous desire to kill! Through that door they had passed, the + two men, one in flight, the other in pursuit. Where were they now? Perhaps + it had been a trap. Pritchard had spoken seriously enough of his enemies. + </p> + <p> + Then, as he stood there, he saw for the first time a thin line of light + through the closely-drawn curtains of a room on the ground floor of the + adjoining house. Without a moment's hesitation, he crossed the road and + rang the bell. The door was opened, after a trifling delay, by a man in + plain clothes, who might, however, have been a servant in mufti. He looked + at Tavernake suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to have disturbed you,” Tavernake explained, “but I saw some + one go in the house next to you, a little time ago. Can you tell me if you + have heard any noises or voices during the last half-hour?” + </p> + <p> + The man shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “We have heard nothing, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Who lives here?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “Did you call me up at one o'clock in the morning to ask silly questions?” + the man replied insolently. “Every one's in bed here and I was just + going.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a light in your ground floor room,” Tavernake remarked. “There's + some one talking there now—I can hear voices.” + </p> + <p> + The man closed the door in his face. For some time Tavernake wandered + restlessly about, starting at last reluctantly homewards. He had reached + the Strand and was crossing Trafalgar Square when a sudden thought held + him. He stood still for a moment in the middle of the street. Then he + turned abruptly round. In less than five minutes he was once more on the + Terrace. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. TAVERNAKE INTERVENES + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake had the feelings of a man suddenly sobered as he turned once + more into the Adelphi Terrace. Waiting until no one was in sight, he + opened the door of the empty house with the Yale key which he had kept, + and carefully closed it. He struck a match and listened for several + minutes intently; not a sound from anywhere. He moved a few yards further + to the bottom of the stairs, and listened again; still silence. He turned + the handle of the ground floor apartment and commenced a fresh search. + Room by room he examined by the light of his rapidly dwindling matches. + This time he meant to leave behind him no possibility of any mistake. He + even measured the depths of the walls for any secret hiding place. From + room to room he passed, leisurely, always on the alert, always listening. + Once, as he opened a door on the third floor there was a soft scurrying as + though of a skirt across the floor. He struck a match quickly, to find a + great rat sitting up and looking at him with black, beady eyes. It was the + only sign of life he found in the whole building. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished his search, he came down to the ground floor and + entered the room corresponding with the one from which he had heard voices + in the adjoining house. He crouched here upon the dusty boards for some + time, listening. Now and then he fancied that he could still hear voices + on the other side of the wall, but he was never absolutely certain. + </p> + <p> + At last he rose to stretch himself, and almost as he did so a fresh sound + from outside attracted his notice. A motor-car had turned into the + Terrace. He walked to the uncurtained window and stood there, sure of + being himself unseen. Then his heart gave a great leap. Unemotional though + he was, this was a happening which might well have excited a more + phlegmatic individual. A motor-car which he remembered very well, although + it was driven now by a man in dark livery, had stopped at the next house. + A woman and two men had descended. Tavernake never glanced at the latter; + his eyes were fastened upon their companion. She was wrapped in a long + cloak, but she lifted her skirts as she crossed the pavement, and he saw + the flash of her silver buckles. Her carriage, her figure, were + unmistakable. It was Elizabeth who was paying this early morning visit + next door! Already the little party had disappeared. They did not even + ring the bell. The door must have been opened silently at their coming. + The motor-car glided off. Once more the Terrace was deserted. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake felt sure that he knew now the solution,—there was a way + from this house into the next one. He struck another match and, standing + back a few yards, looked critically at the dividing wall. In ancient days + this had evidently been a dwelling-house of importance, elaborately + decorated, as the fresco work upon the ceiling still indicated. The wall + had been divided into three panels, with a high wainscoting. Inch by inch + he examined it from one end to the other; he started from the back and + came toward the front. About three-quarters of the way there, he paused. + It was very simple, after all. The solid wall for a couple of feet + suddenly ceased, and the design was continued with an expanse of stretched + canvas, which yielded easily to his finger. He leaned his ear against it; + he could hear now distinctly the sound of voices—he heard even the + woman's laughter. For the height of about four feet the wall had been + bodily removed. He made a small hole in the canvas—there was still + darkness. He enlarged the hole until he could thrust his hand through—there + was nothing but canvas the other side. He knew now where he was. There was + only that single thickness of canvas between him and the room. He had but + to make the smallest hole in it and he would be able to see through. Even + now, with the removal of the barrier on his side, the voices were more + distinct. A complete section of the wall had evidently been taken out and + replaced by a detachable framework of wood covered with stretched canvas. + He stood back for a moment and felt with his finger; he could almost trace + the spot where the woodwork fitted upon hinges. Then he went on his hands + and knees again, and with his penknife in his hand he paused to listen. He + could hear the man Crease talking—a slow, nasal drawl. Then he heard + Pritchard's voice, followed by what seemed to be a groan. There was a + silence, then Elizabeth seemed to ask a question. He heard her low laugh + and some note in it sent a shiver through his body. Pritchard was speaking + fiercely now. Then, in the middle of his sentence, there was silence once + more, followed by another groan. He could almost feel the people in that + room holding their breaths. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was rapidly forgetting all caution. The point of his knife was + through the canvas. Slowly he worked it round until a small piece, the + size of a half-crown, was partially cut through. With infinite pains he + got his head and shoulders into the small recess and for the first time + looked into the room. Pritchard was sitting almost in the middle of the + apartment; his arms seemed to be bound to the chair and his legs were tied + together. A few yards away, Elizabeth, her fur coat laid aside, was + lounging back in an easy-chair, her dress all glittering with sequins, a + curious light in her eyes, a cruel smile parting her lips. By her side—sitting, + in fact, on the arm of her chair—was Crease, his long, worn face + paler, even, than usual; his lips curled in a smile of cynical amusement. + Major Post was there, carefully dressed as though he had been attending + some social gathering, standing upon the hearth-rug with his coat-tails + under his arms. The professor, in whose face seemed written the most + abject terror, was talking. Tavernake now could hear every word + distinctly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Elizabeth! My dear Crease! You are both too precipitate! I tell + you that I protest—I protest most strongly. Mr. Pritchard, I am + sure, with a little persuasion, will listen to reason. I will not be a + party to any such proceeding as—as this. You understand, Crease? We + have gone quite far enough as it is. I will not have it.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear father,” she said, “you will really have to take something for + your nerves. Nothing need happen to Mr. Pritchard at all unless he asks + for it. He has his chance—. no one should expect more.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, my dear Elizabeth,” declared Crease, speaking very slowly + and with his usual drawl. “This question of his health for the future—at + any rate, for the immediate future—is entirely in Pritchard's own + hands. There is no one who has received so many warnings as he. Bramley + was cautioned twice; Mallison was warned three times and burned to death; + Forsith had word from us only once, and he was shot in a drunken brawl. + This man Pritchard has been warned a dozen times, he has escaped death + twice. The time has come to show him that we are in earnest. Threats are + useless; the time has come for deeds. I say that if Pritchard refuses this + trifling request of ours, let us see that he leaves this house in such a + state that he will not be able to do us any harm for some time at least.” + </p> + <p> + “But he will give his word!” the professor cried excitedly. “I am quite + sure that if you allow me to talk to him reasonably, he will pledge his + word to go back to the States and interfere no longer with your affairs.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard turned his head slightly. He was a little pale, and the blood + was dropping slowly on to the floor from a wound in his temple, but his + tone was contemptuous. + </p> + <p> + “I will give you my word, Professor, and you, Elizabeth Gardner, and you, + Jim Post, and you, Walter Crease, that crippled, or straight, in evil or + good health, from the very jaws of death I will hang on to life until you + have paid your just debts. You understand that, all of you? I don't know + what sort of a show this is. You may be in earnest, or you may be trying a + rag. In any case, let me assure you of this. You won't get me to beg for + mercy. If you force me to drink that stuff you are talking about, I'll + find the antidote, and as sure as there's a prison in America, so surely + I'll make you suffer for it! If you take my advice,” he went on slowly, + “and I know what I'm talking about, you'll cut these ropes and set open + your front door. You 'll live longer, all of you.” + </p> + <p> + “An idiot,” Elizabeth remarked pleasantly, “can do but little harm in the + world. The word of a person of weak intellect is not to be relied upon. + For my part, I am very tired of our friend, Mr. Pritchard. If you others + had been disposed to go to much greater lengths, if you had said 'Hang him + from the ceiling,' I should have been well pleased.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard made a slight movement in his chair—it was certainly not a + movement of fear. + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” he said, “I admire your candor. Let me return it. I don't believe + there's one of you here has the pluck to attempt to do me any serious + injury. If there is, get on with it. You hear, Mr. Walter Crease? Bring + out that bottle of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Crease removed his cigar from his lips and rose slowly to his feet. From + his waistcoat pocket he produced a small phial, from which he drew the + cork. + </p> + <p> + “Seems to me it's up to us to do the trick,” he remarked languidly. “Catch + hold of his forehead, Jimmy.” + </p> + <p> + The man known as Major Post threw away his cigarette, and coming round + behind Pritchard's chair, suddenly bent the man's head backward. Crease + advanced, phial in hand. Then all Hell seemed to be let loose in + Tavernake. He stepped back in his place and marked the extent of that + wooden partition. Then, setting his teeth, he sprang at it, throwing the + great weight of his massive shoulder against the framework door. Scratched + and bleeding, but still upon his feet, he burst into the room, with the + noise of bricks falling behind,—an apparition so unexpected that the + little company gathered there seemed turned into some waxwork group from + the Chamber of Horrors—motionless, without even the power of + movement. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, in those few moments, was like a giant among a company of + degenerates. He was strong, his muscles were like whipcord, and his + condition was perfect. Walter Crease went over like a log before his fist; + Major Post felt the revolver at which he had snatched struck from his + hand, and he himself remembered nothing more till he came to his senses + some time afterwards. A slash and a cut and Pritchard was free. The + professor stood wringing his hands. Elizabeth had risen to her feet. She + was pale, but she was still more nearly composed than any other person in + the room. Tavernake and Pritchard were masters of the situation. Pritchard + leaned toward the mirror and straightened his tie. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he said looking down at Walter Crease's groaning figure, + “that our hosts are scarcely in fit condition to take leave of us. Never + mind, Mrs. Gardner, we excuse ourselves to you. I cannot pretend to be + sorry that my friend's somewhat impetuous entrance has disturbed your + plans for the evening, but I do hope that you will realize now the + fatuousness of such methods in these days. Good-night! It is time we + finished our stroll together, Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + They moved towards the door—there was no one to stop them. Only the + professor tried to say a few words. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mr. Pritchard—my dear Pritchard, if you will allow me to + call you so,” he exclaimed, “let me beg of you, before you leave us, not + to take this trifling adventure too seriously! I can assure you that it + was simply an attempt to coerce you, not in the least an affair to be + taken seriously!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Professor,” he said, “and you, Walter Crease, and you, Jimmy Post, if + you're able to listen, listen to me. You have played the part of children + to-night. So surely as men and women exist who live as you do, so surely + must the law wait upon their heels. You cannot cheat justice. It is as + inexorable as Time itself. When you try these little tricks, you simply + give another turn to the wheel, add another danger to life. You had better + learn to look upon me as necessary, all of you, for I am certainly + inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + They passed backwards through the door, then they went down the silent + hall and out into the street. Even as they did so, the clock struck a + quarter to two. + </p> + <p> + “My friend Tavernake,” Pritchard declared, lighting a cigarette with + steady fingers, “you are a man. Come into the club with me while I bathe + my forehead. After all, we'll have that drink together before we say + goodnight.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. A PLEASANT REUNION + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake awoke some hours later with a puzzled sense of having lost his + own identity, of having taken up another man's life, stepped into another + man's shoes. From the day of his first arrival in London, a raw country + youth, till the night when he had spoken to Beatrice on the roof of + Blenheim House, nothing that could properly be called an adventure had + ever happened to him. He had never for a moment felt the want of it; he + had not even indulged in the reading of books of romance. The thing which + had happened last night, as in the cold morning sunlight he sat up in his + bed, seemed to him a thing grotesque, inconceivable. It was not really + possible that those people—those well-bred, well-looking people—had + seriously contemplated an enormity which seemed to belong to the back + pages of history, or that he, Tavernake, had burst through a wall with no + weapons in his hand, and had dominated the situation! He sat there + steadily thinking. It was incredible, but it was true! There existed still + in his mind some faint doubt as to whether they would really have + proceeded to extremities. Pritchard himself had made light of the whole + affair, afterwards had treated it, indeed, as a huge practical joke. + Tavernake, remembering that little group as he had first seen it, remained + doubtful. + </p> + <p> + By degrees, his own personal characteristics began to assert themselves. + He began to wonder how his action would affect his commercial interests. + He had probably made an enemy of this wonderful sister of Beatrice's, the + woman who had so completely filled his thoughts during the last few days, + the woman, too, who was to have found the money by means of which he was + to set his feet upon the first rung of the ladder. This was a thing, he + decided, which must be settled at once. He must see her and know exactly + what terms they were on, whether or not she meant to be off with her + bargain. The thought of action of any sort was stimulating. He rose and + dressed, had his breakfast, and set out on his pilgrimage. + </p> + <p> + Soon after eleven o'clock, he presented himself at the Milan Court and + asked for Mrs. Wenham Gardner. For several minutes he waited about in + nervous anticipation, then he was told that she was not at home. More than + a little disappointed, he pressed for news of her. The hall porter thought + that she had gone down into the country, and if so it was doubtful when + she would be back. Tavernake was now seriously disconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “I want particularly to wire to her,” he insisted. “Please find out from + her maid how I shall direct a telegram.” + </p> + <p> + The hall porter, who was a most superior person, regarded him blandly. + </p> + <p> + “We do not give addresses, sir,” he explained, “unless at the expressed + wish of our clients. If you leave a telegram here, I will send it up to + Mrs. Gardner's rooms to be forwarded.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake scribbled one out, begging for news of her return, added his + address and left the place. Then he wandered aimlessly about the streets. + There seemed something flat about the morning, some aftermath of the + excitement of the previous night was still stirring in his blood. + Nevertheless, he pulled himself together with an effort, called for a + young surveyor whom he had engaged to assist him, and spent the rest of + the day out upon the hill. Religiously he kept his thoughts turned upon + his work until the twilight came. Then he hurried home to meet the + disappointment which he had more than half anticipated. There was no + telegram for him! He ate his dinner and sat with folded arms, looking out + into the street. Still no telegram! The restlessness came back once more. + Soon after ten o'clock it became unbearable. He found himself longing for + company, the loneliness of his little room since the departure of Beatrice + had never seemed so real a thing. He stood it as long as he could and + then, catching up his hat and stick, he set his face eastwards, walking + vigorously, and with frequent glances at the clocks he passed. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes past eleven o'clock, he found himself once more in that dark + thoroughfare at the back of the theatre. The lamp over the stage-door was + flickering in the same uncertain manner, the same motor-cars were there, + the same crowd of young men, except that each night they seemed to grow + larger. This time he had a few minutes only to wait. Beatrice came out + among the earliest. At the sight of her he was suddenly conscious that he + had, after all, no excuse for coming, that she would probably + cross-examine him about Elizabeth, would probably guess the secret of his + torments. He shrank back, but he was a moment too late for she had seen + him. With a few words of excuse to the others with whom she was talking, + she picked up her skirts and came swiftly across the muddy street. + Tavernake had no time to escape. He remained there until she came, but his + cheeks were hot, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that his presence, + that their meeting like this, was an embarrassment to both of them. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Leonard,” she exclaimed, “why do you hide over there?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he answered simply. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It looks as though you didn't want to see me,” she remarked. “If you + didn't, why are you here?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I did want to see you,” he replied. “Anyhow, I was lonely. I + wanted to talk to some one. I walked all the way up here from Chelsea.” + </p> + <p> + “You have something to tell me?” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “There was something,” he admitted. “I thought perhaps you ought to know. + I had supper with your father last night. We talked about you.” + </p> + <p> + She started as though he had struck her; her face was suddenly pale and + anxious. + </p> + <p> + “Are you serious, Leonard?” she asked. “My father?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he said. “I ought not to have blundered it out like that. I + forgot that you—you were not seeing anything of him.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you meet him?” + </p> + <p> + “By accident,” he answered. “I was sitting alone up in the balcony at + Imano's, and he wanted my table because he could see you from there, so we + shared it, and then we began talking. I knew who he was, of course; I had + seen him in your sister's room. He told me that he had engaged the table + for every night this week.” + </p> + <p> + She looked across the road. + </p> + <p> + “I can't go out with those people now,” she declared. “Wait here for me.” + </p> + <p> + She went back to her friends and talked to them for a moment or two. + Tavernake could hear Grier's protesting voice and Beatrice's light laugh. + Evidently they were trying uselessly to persuade her to change her mind. + Soon she came back to him. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he said reluctantly. “I am afraid that I have spoiled your + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be foolish, please,” she replied taking his arm. “Do you believe + that my father will be up in the balcony at Imano's to-night?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. + </p> + <p> + “He told me so.” + </p> + <p> + “We will go and sit up there,” she decided. “He knows where I am to be + found now so it doesn't matter. I should like to see him.” + </p> + <p> + They walked off together. Though she was evidently absent and distressed, + Tavernake felt once more that sense of pleasant companionship which her + near presence always brought him. + </p> + <p> + “There is something else I must ask you,” she began presently. “I want to + know if you have seen Pritchard lately.” + </p> + <p> + “I was with him last night,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + She shivered. + </p> + <p> + “He was asking questions?” + </p> + <p> + “Not about you,” Tavernake assured her quickly. “It is your sister in whom + he is interested.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice nodded, but she seemed very little relieved. Tavernake could see + that the old look of fear was back in her face. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, Beatrice,” he said, regretfully. “I seem just now to be + always bringing you reminiscences of the people whom it terrifies you to + hear about.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't your fault, Leonard,” she declared, “only it is rather strange + that you should be mixed up with them in any way, isn't it? I suppose some + day you'll find out everything about me. Perhaps you'll be sorry then that + you ever even called yourself my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be foolish,” he answered, brusquely. + </p> + <p> + She patted his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Is the speculation going all right?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am hoping to get the money together this week,” he replied. “If I get + it, I shall be well off in a year, rich in five years.” + </p> + <p> + “There is just a doubt about your getting it, then?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Just a doubt,” he admitted. “I have a solicitor who is doing his best to + raise a loan, but I have not heard from him for two days. Then I have also + a friend who has promised it to me, a friend upon whom I am not quite sure + if I can rely.” + </p> + <p> + They turned into the Strand. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about my father, Leonard,” she begged. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated; it was hard to know exactly how to speak of the professor. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps if you have talked with him at all,” she went on, “it will help + you to understand one of the difficulties I had to face in life.” + </p> + <p> + “He is, I should imagine, a little weak,” Tavernake suggested, + hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Very,” she answered. “My mother left him in my charge, but I cannot keep + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister—” he began. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “My sister has more influence than I. She makes life easier for him.” + </p> + <p> + They reached the restaurant and made their way upstairs. Tavernake + appropriated the same table and once more the head waiter protested. + </p> + <p> + “If the gentleman comes again to-night,” Tavernake said, “you will find + that he will be only too glad to have supper with us.” + </p> + <p> + Then the professor came. He made his usual somewhat theatrical entrance, + carrying his broad-brimmed hat in his hand, brandishing his silver-topped + cane. When he saw Tavernake and Beatrice, he stopped short. Then he held + out both hands, which Beatrice immediately seized. There were tears in his + eyes, tears running down his cheeks. He sat down heavily in the chair + which Tavernake was holding for him. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he exclaimed, “why, this is most affecting! You have come here + to have supper with your old father. You trust me, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely,” she replied, still clasping his hands. “If you give me away + to Elizabeth, it will be the end. The next time I shall never be found.” + </p> + <p> + “For some days,” he assured her, “I have known exactly where you were to + be found. I have never spoken of it. You are safe. My meals up here,” he + added, with a little sigh, “have been sad feasts. To-night we will be + cheerful. Some quails, I think, quails and some Clicquot for you, my dear. + You need it. Ah, this is a happiness indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “You know Mr. Tavernake, father,” she remarked, after he had given a + somewhat lengthy order to the waiter. + </p> + <p> + “I met and talked with Mr. Tavernake here the other night,” the professor + admitted, with condescension. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake was very good to me at a time when I needed help,” Beatrice + told him. + </p> + <p> + The professor grasped Tavernake's hands. + </p> + <p> + “You were good to my child,” he said, “you were good to me. Waiter, three + cocktails immediately,” he ordered, turning round. “I must drink your + health, Mr. Tavernake—I must drink your health at once.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake leaned forward towards Beatrice. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he suggested, “whether you would not rather be alone with your + father.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “You know so much,” she replied, “and it really doesn't seem to matter. + Tell me, father, how do you spend your time?” + </p> + <p> + “I must confess, dear,” the professor said, “that I have little to do. + Your sister Elizabeth is quite generous.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice sat back in her chair as though she had been struck. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she exclaimed, “listen! You are living on that money! Doesn't it + seem terrible to you? Oh, how can you do it!” + </p> + <p> + The professor looked at his daughter with an expression of pained + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he explained, “your sister Elizabeth has always been the + moneyed one of the family. She has brains and I trust her. It is not for + me to inquire as to the source of the comforts she provides for me. I feel + myself entitled to receive them, and so I accept.” + </p> + <p> + “But, father,” she went on, “can't you see—don't you know that it's + his money—Wenham's?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not a matter, this, my child,” the professor observed, sharply, + “which we can discuss before strangers. Some day we will speak of it, you + and I.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he—been heard of?” she asked, in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + The professor frowned. + </p> + <p> + “A hot-tempered young man, my dear,” he declared uneasily, “a hot tempered + young man, indeed. Elizabeth gives me to understand that it was just an + ordinary quarrel and away he went.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice was white to the lips. + </p> + <p> + “An ordinary quarrel!” she muttered. + </p> + <p> + She sat quite still. Tavernake unconsciously found himself watching her. + There were things in her eyes which frightened him. It seemed as though + she were looking out of the gay little restaurant, with its lights and + music and air of comfort, out into some distant quarter of the world, some + other and very different place. She was living through something which + chilled her heart, something terrifying. Tavernake saw those things in her + face and his eyes spelt them out mercilessly. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she whispered, leaning towards him, “do you believe what you + have just been saying to me?” + </p> + <p> + It was the professor's turn to be disturbed. He concealed his + discomfiture, however, with a gesture of annoyance. + </p> + <p> + “That is scarcely a proper question, Beatrice,” he answered sharply. “Ah,” + he added, with more geniality, “the cocktails! My young friend Tavernake, + I drink to our better acquaintance! You are English, as I can see, a real + Britisher. Some day you must come out to our own great country—my + daughter, of course, has told you that we are Americans. A great country, + sir,—the greatest I have ever lived in—room to breathe, room + to grow, room for a young man like you to plant his ambitions and watch + them blossom. To our better acquaintance, Mr. Tavernake, and may we meet + some day in the United States!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake drank the first cocktail in his life and wiped the tears from + his eyes. The professor found safety in conversation. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” he went on, “that I am a man of science. Physiognomy delights + me. Men and women as I meet them represent to me varying types of + humanity, all interesting, all appealing to my peculiar love of the + science of psychology. You, my dear Mr. Tavernake, if I may venture to be + so personal, represent to me, as you sit there, the exact prototype of the + young working Englishman. You are, I should judge, thorough, dogmatic, + narrow, persistent, industrious, and bound to be successful according to + the scope and nature of your ambitions. In this country you will never + develop. In my country, sir, we should make a colossus of you. We should + teach you not to be content with small things; we should raise your hand + which you yourself kept to your side, and we should point your finger to + the skies. Waiter,” he added, turning abruptly round, “if the quails are + not yet ready I will take another of these excellent cocktails.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was embarrassed. He saw that Beatrice was anxious to talk to her + father; he saw, also, that her father was determined not to talk to her. + With a little sigh, however, she resigned herself to the inevitable. + </p> + <p> + “I have lectured, sir,” the professor continued, “in most of the cities of + the United States, upon the human race. The tendencies of every unit of + the human race are my peculiar study. When I speak to you of phrenology, + sir, you smile, and you think, perhaps, of a man who sits in a back room + and takes your shilling for feeling the bumps of your head. I am not of + this order of scientific men, sir. I have diplomas from every university + worth mentioning. I blend the sciences which treat with the human race. I + know something of all of them. Character reading to me is at once a + passion and a science. Leave me alone with a man or a woman for five + minutes, paint me a map of Life, and I will set the signposts along which + that person will travel, and I shall not miss one.” + </p> + <p> + “You are doing no work over here, father, are you?” Beatrice asked. + </p> + <p> + “None, my dear,” he answered, with a faint note of regret in his tone. + “Your sister Elizabeth seemed scarcely to desire it. Her movements are + very uncertain and she likes to have me constantly at hand. My daughter + Elizabeth,” he continued, turning to Tavernake, “is a very beautiful young + woman, left in my charge under peculiar circumstances. I feel it my duty, + therefore, to be constantly at hand.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was a flash of that strange look in the girl's face. She + leaned forward, but her father declined to meet her gaze. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask one or two personal questions?” she faltered. “Remember, I have + not seen or heard anything from either of you for seven months.” + </p> + <p> + “By all means, my dear,” the professor declared. “Your sister, I am glad + to say, is well. I myself am as you see me. We have had a pleasant time + and we have met some dear old friends from the other side. Our greatest + trouble is that you are temporarily lost to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth doesn't guess—” + </p> + <p> + “My child,” the professor interrupted, “I have been loyal to you. If + Elizabeth knew that I could tell her at any moment your exact whereabouts, + I think that she would be more angry with me than ever she has been in her + life, and, my dear,” he added, “you know, when Elizabeth is angry, things + are apt to be unpleasant. But I have been dumb. I have not spoken, nor + shall I. Yet,” the professor went on, “you must not think, Beatrice, that + because I yield to your whim in this matter I recognize any sufficient + cause why you should voluntarily estrange yourself from those whose right + and privilege it is to look after you. You are able, I am glad to see, to + make your way in the world. I have attended the Atlas Theatre, and I am + glad to see that you have lost none of your old skill in the song and + dance. You are deservedly popular there. Soon, I have no doubt, you will + aspire to more important parts. Still, my dear child,” the professor + continued, disposing of his second cocktail, “I see no reason why your + very laudable desire to remain independent should be incompatible with a + life under your sister's roof and my protection. Mr. Tavernake here, with + his British instincts, will, I am sure, agree with me that it is not well + for a young lady—my own daughter, sir, but I may say it—of + considerable personal attractions, to live alone or under the chaperonage + merely of these other young ladies of the theatre.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,”, Tavernake said, “that your daughter must have very strong + reasons for preferring to live alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Imaginary ones, my dear sir,” the professor assured him,—“altogether + imaginary. The quails at last! And the Clicquot! Now this is really a + delightful little meeting. I drink to its repetition. This is indeed a + treat for me. Beatrice, my love to you! Mr. Tavernake, my best respects! + The only vintage, sir,” he concluded, setting down his empty glass + appreciatively. + </p> + <p> + “To go back to what you were saying just now,” Tavernake remarked, “I + quite agree with you about Beatrice's living alone. I am very anxious for + her to marry me.” + </p> + <p> + The professor set down his knife and fork. His appearance was one of + ponderous theatricality. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” he declared, “this is indeed a most momentous statement. Am I to + take it as a serious offer for my daughter's hand?” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice leaned over and laid her fingers upon his. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she said, “it doesn't matter please. I am not willing to marry + Mr. Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + The professor looked from one to the other and coughed. + </p> + <p> + “Are Mr. Tavernake's means,” he asked, “of sufficient importance to + warrant his entering into matrimony?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no money at all to speak of,” Tavernake answered. “That really + isn't important. I shall very soon make all that your daughter can spend.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with my daughter, sir,” the professor declared. “The subject + might well be left until such time as you have improved your position. We + will dismiss it, therefore,—dismiss it at once. We will talk—” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” Beatrice interrupted, “let us talk about yourself. Don't you + think you would be more contented, happier, if you were to try to arrange + for a few—a few demonstrations or lectures over here, as you at + first intended? I know that you must find having nothing to do such a + strain upon you,” she added. + </p> + <p> + It was perhaps by accident that her eyes were fixed upon the glass which + the professor was carrying to his lips. He set it down at once. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” he said, in a low tone, “I understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she insisted, “I didn't mean that, but you are always better + when you are working. A man like you,” she went on, a little wistfully, + “should not waste his talents.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed. + </p> + <p> + “You are perhaps right, my child,” he admitted. “I will go and see my + agents to-morrow. Up till now,” he went on, “I have refused all offers. I + have felt that Elizabeth, the care of Elizabeth in her peculiar position, + demanded my whole attention. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I have + over-estimated the necessity of being constantly at her right hand. She is + a very clever woman Elizabeth,” he concluded, “very clever indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she now, father?” Beatrice asked. + </p> + <p> + “She motored into the country early this morning with some friends,” the + professor said. “They went to a party last night with Walter Crease, + London correspondent to the New York Gazette,” he explained, turning a + little away from Tavernake. “They were all home very late, I understand, + and Elizabeth complained of a headache this morning. Personally, I regret + to say that I was not up when they left.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice leaned quite close to her father. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see anything of the man Pritchard?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + The professor was suddenly flabby. He set down his glass, spilling half + its contents. He stole a quick glance at Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” he exclaimed, “you ought to consider my nerves! You know very + well that the sudden mention of any one whom I dislike so intensely is bad + for me. I am surprised at you, Beatrice. You show a culpable lack of + consideration for my infirmities.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, father,” she whispered, “but is he here?” + </p> + <p> + “He is,” the professor admitted. “Between ourselves,” he added, a white, + scared look upon his pale face, “he is spoiling my whole peace of mind. My + enjoyment of the comforts which Elizabeth is able to provide for me is + interfered with by that man's constant presence. He seldom speaks, and yet + he seems always to be watching. I do not trust him, Beatrice. I am a judge + of men and I tell you that I do not trust him.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish that Elizabeth would go away,” Beatrice said in a low tone. “Of + course, I have no right—to say things. Nothing serious has perhaps + ever happened. And yet—and yet, for her own sake, I do not think + that she should stay here in London with Pritchard close at hand.” + </p> + <p> + The professor raised his glass with shaking fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth knows what is best,” he declared, “I am sure that Elizabeth + knows what is best, but I, too, am beginning to wish that she would go + away. Last night we met him at Walter Crease's.” + </p> + <p> + Once more he turned a little nervously towards Tavernake, who was looking + down into the body of the restaurant with immovable face. + </p> + <p> + “We tried to persuade him then to go away. He is really in rather a + dangerous position here. Jimmy Post has sworn that he will not be taken + back to New York, and there are one or two others—a pretty desperate + crew. We tried last night to reason with Pritchard.” + </p> + <p> + “It was no good?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “No good at all,” the professor answered, drily. “Perhaps, if we had not + been interrupted, we might have convinced him.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about it,” she begged. + </p> + <p> + The professor shook his head. Tavernake still had that air of paying no + attention whatever to their conversation. + </p> + <p> + “It is not for you to know about, my dear,” he concluded. “You have chosen + very wisely to keep out of these matters. Elizabeth has such wonderful + courage. My own nerve, I regret to say, is not quite what it was. Waiter, + I will take a liqueur of the old brandy in a large glass.” + </p> + <p> + The brandy was brought, but the professor seemed haunted by memories and + his spirits never wholly returned. Not until the lights were turned down + and Tavernake had paid the bill, did he partially recover his former + manner. + </p> + <p> + “Dear child,” he said, as they stood up together, “I cannot tell you what + the pleasure has been of this brief reunion.” + </p> + <p> + She rested her fingers upon his shoulders and looked up into his face. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she begged, softly, “come to me. I can keep you, if you don't + mind for a short time being poor. You shall have all my salary except just + enough for my clothes, and anything will do for me to wear. I will try so + hard to make you comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with an air of offended dignity. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” he replied, “you must not talk to me like that. If I did not + feel that my duty lay with Elizabeth, I should insist upon your coming to + me, and under those conditions it would be I who should provide, not you. + But for the moment I cannot leave your elder sister altogether. She needs + me.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice turned away a little sadly. They all three descended the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “I shall leave our young friend, Mr. Tavernake, to escort you to your + home,” the professor announced. “I myself shall telephone to see if + Elizabeth has returned. If she is still away, I shall spend an hour or + two, I think, with my friends at the Blue Room Club. Beatrice, this has + been a joy to me, a joy soon, I hope, to be repeated.” + </p> + <p> + He took both her hands. She smiled at him with an attempt at cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, father!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “And to you, sir, also, good-night!” the professor added, taking + Tavernake's hand and holding it for a minute in his, while he looked + impressively in his face. “I will not say too much, but I will say this: + so much as I have seen of you, I like. Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + He turned and strode away. Both Beatrice and Tavernake watched him until + he disappeared. Then, with a sigh, she picked up her skirts with her right + hand, and took Tavernake's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind walking home?” she asked. “My head aches.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked for a moment wistfully across the road toward the Milan + Court. Beatrice's hand, however, only held his arm the tighter. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to make you come with me every step of the way,” she declared, + “so you can just as well make the best of it. Afterwards—” + </p> + <p> + “What about afterwards?” he interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Afterwards,” she continued, with decision, “you are to go straight home!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. SOME EXCELLENT ADVICE + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake, in response to a somewhat urgent message, walked into his + solicitor's office almost as soon as they opened on the following morning. + The junior partner of the firm, who took an interest in him, and was + anxious, indeed, to invest a small amount in the Marston Rise Building + Company, received him cordially but with some concern. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Tavernake,” he said, “I thought I'd better write a line and + ask you to come down. You haven't forgotten, have you, that our option of + purchase lasts only three days longer?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It's just as well that you should understand the situation,” the lawyer + continued. “Your old people are hard upon our heels in this matter, and + there will be no chance of any extension—not even for an hour. Mr. + Dowling has already put in an offer a thousand pounds better than yours; I + heard that incidentally yesterday afternoon; so you may be sure that the + second your option has legally expired, the thing will be off altogether + so far as you're concerned.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all very well,” Tavernake remarked, “but what about the plots that + already belong to me?” + </p> + <p> + “They have some sort of scheme for leaving those high and dry,” the + solicitor explained. “You see, the drainage and lighting will be largely + influenced by the purchaser of the whole estate. If Dowling gets it, he + means to treat your plots so that they will become practically valueless. + It's rather a mean sort of thing, but then he's a mean little man.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he announced, “I was coming to see you, anyhow, this morning, to + talk to you about the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Your friend isn't backing out?” the lawyer asked, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “My friend has not said anything about backing out yet,” Tavernake + replied, “but circumstances have arisen during the last few days which + have altered my own views as to the expediency of business relations with + this person. I haven't any reason to suppose that the money won't be + forthcoming, but if I could get it from any other source, I should prefer + it.” + </p> + <p> + The solicitor looked blank. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he said, “I'll do what I can, if you like, but I may as well + tell you at once that I don't think I should have a ghost of a chance of + raising the whole amount.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” Tavernake inquired, thoughtfully, “your firm couldn't do + anything?” + </p> + <p> + “We could do something, certainly,” the solicitor answered, “on account of + our own clients. We might, perhaps, manage up to five thousand pounds. + That would still leave us wanting seven, however, and I scarcely see where + we could get it.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was silent for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't quarreled with your friend, have you?” the solicitor asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, there has been no quarrel,” Tavernake replied. “I have another + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were you, I'd try and forget it,” his friend advised. “To tell you + the truth, I have been feeling rather anxious about this affair. It's a + big thing, you know, and the profit is as sure as the dividend on Consols. + I should hate to have that little bounder Dowling get in and scoop it up.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a fine investment,” admitted Tavernake, “and, as you say, there + isn't the slightest risk. That's why I was hoping you might have been able + to manage it without my calling upon my friend.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Martin shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't so easy to convince other people. All the same, I don't want to + get left. If you'll take my advice, you'll go and call on your friend at + once, and see exactly how matters stand. If everything's O.K. and you can + induce him to part a few hours before it is absolutely necessary, I must + confess that it would take a load off my mind. I don't like these affairs + that have to be concluded at the last possible moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Tavernake agreed, “I must try what I can do, then. There is + nothing else fresh, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” the solicitor answered. “Come back, if you can make any + definite arrangement, or telephone. The matter is really bothering me a + little. I don't want to have the other people slip in now.”... + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, instead of obeying his first impulse and making his way direct + to the Milan Court, walked to the flat in Kingsway, climbed up the stone + steps, and asked for Beatrice. She met him at her own door, fully dressed. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Leonard!” she exclaimed, in surprise. “What an early caller!” + </p> + <p> + “I want a few words with you,” he said. “Can you spare me five minutes?” + </p> + <p> + “You must walk with me to the theatre,” she replied, “I am just off to + rehearsal.” + </p> + <p> + They descended the stairs together. + </p> + <p> + “I have something to tell you,” Tavernake began, “something to tell you + which you won't like to hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Something which I won't like to hear,” she repeated, fearfully. “Go on, + Leonard. It can't be worse than it sounds.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why I've come to tell you,” he went on. “I never meant to. + It came into my mind all of a sudden and I felt that I must. It has to do + with your sister and the Marston Rise affair.” + </p> + <p> + “My sister and the Marston Rise affair!” Beatrice exclaimed, + incredulously. + </p> + <p> + Then a sudden light broke in upon her. She stopped short and clutched at + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean that it was Elizabeth who was going to find you the + money?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” he answered. “She offered it of her own accord. I do not know why + I talked to her of my own affairs, but she led me on to speak of them. + Your sister is a wonderful person,” he continued, dropping his voice. “I + don't know why, but she made me talk as no one else has ever made me talk + before. I simply had to tell her things. Then, when I had finished, she + showed me her bankbooks and suggested that she should invest some of her + money in the Rise.” + </p> + <p> + “But do you mean to tell me,” Beatrice persisted, “that it is her money + upon which you are relying for this purchase?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he explained, “Mr. Dowling dropped upon us before I was + prepared. As soon as he found out, he went to the owners of the estate and + made them a bid for it. The consequence was that they shortened my option + and gave me very little chance indeed to find the money. When your sister + offered it, it certainly seemed a wonderful stroke of fortune. I could + give her eight or ten per cent, whereas she would only get four anywhere + else, and I should make a profit for myself of over ten thousand pounds, + which I cannot do unless I find the money to buy the estate.” + </p> + <p> + “But you mustn't touch that money, you mustn't have anything to do with + it!” Beatrice exclaimed, walking very fast and looking straight ahead. + “You don't understand. How should you?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that the money was stolen?” Tavernake asked, after a moment's + pause. + </p> + <p> + “No, not stolen,” Beatrice replied, “but it comes—oh! I can't tell + you, only Elizabeth has no right to it. My own sister! It is all too + awful!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that she has come by this money dishonestly?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” Beatrice murmured. “There are worse things, more terrible + things even than theft.” + </p> + <p> + The practical side of Tavernake's nature was very much to the fore that + morning. He began to wonder whether women, after all, strange and + fascinating creatures though they were, possessed judgment which could be + relied upon—whether they were not swayed too much by sentiment. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he said, “you must understand this. I have no time to raise + the money elsewhere. If I don't get it from your sister, supposing she is + still willing to let me have it, my chance has gone. I shall have to take + a situation in some one else's office as a clerk—probably not so + good a place as I held at Dowling & Spence's. On the other hand, the + use of that money for a very short time would be the start of my career. + All that you say is so vague. Why need I know anything about it? I met + your sister in the ordinary way of business and she has made an ordinary + business proposition to me, one by which she will be, incidentally, very + greatly benefited. I never thought of telling you this at all, but when + the time came I hated to go and draw that money from your sister without + having said anything to you. So I came this morning, but I want you, if + you possibly can, to look at the matter from my point of view.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for several moments. Then she glanced at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Why on earth,” she asked, “should my sister make this offer to you? She + isn't a fool. She doesn't usually trust strangers.” + </p> + <p> + “She trusted me, apparently,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + “Can you understand why?” Beatrice demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I think that I can,” he replied. “If one can rely upon one's perception, + she is surrounded by people whom she might find agreeable companions but + whom she is scarcely likely to have much confidence in. Perhaps she + realized that I wasn't like them.” + </p> + <p> + “And you want very much to take this money?” she said, half to herself. + </p> + <p> + “I want to very much indeed,” Tavernake admitted. “I was on my way to see + her this morning and to ask her to let me have it a day or two before the + time, but I felt, somehow, that there seemed to be a certain amount of + deceit in going to her and taking it without saying a word to you. I felt + that I had to come here first. But Beatrice, don't ask me to give it up. + It means such a long time before I can move again. It's the first step + that's so difficult, and I must—I must make a start. It's such a + chance, this. I have spent so many hours thinking about it. I have planned + and worked and sketched it all out as no one else could do. I must have + that money.” + </p> + <p> + They walked on in silence until they reached the stage door. Beatrice was + thinking of her companion as she had seen him so often, poring over his + plans, busy with ruler and india-rubber, absolutely absorbed in the + interest of his task. She remembered the first time he had talked about + this scheme of his, how his whole face had changed, the almost passionate + interest with which he had worked the thing out even to its smallest + details. She realized how great a part of his life the thing had become, + what a terrible blow it would be to him to have to abandon it. She turned + and faced him. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she said, “perhaps, after all, you are right. Perhaps I give + way too much to what, after all, is only a sentimental feeling. I am + thankful that you came and told me; I shall always be thankful for that. + Take the money, but pay it back as soon as you can.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do that,” he answered. “I shall do that you may rely upon it.” + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand upon his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she begged, “I know that Elizabeth is very beautiful and very + fascinating, and I don't wonder that you like to go and see her, but I + want to ask you to promise me one thing.” + </p> + <p> + He felt as though he were suddenly turned into stone. It was not possible—it + could not be possible that she had guessed his secret! + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Don't let her introduce you to her friends; don't spend too much time + there,” she continued. “Elizabeth is my sister and I don't—really I + don't want to say anything that doesn't sound kind, but her friends are + not fit people for you to know, and Elizabeth—well she hasn't very + much heart.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for several moments. + </p> + <p> + “How did you know I liked going to see your sister?” he asked, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Leonard,” she said, “you are not very clever at hiding your + feelings. When you came to see me the other day, do you imagine I believed + for a single moment that you asked me to marry you simply because you + cared? I think, Leonard, that it was because you were afraid, you were + afraid of something coming into your life so big, so terrifying, that you + were ready to clutch at the easiest chance of safety.” + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice, this is absurd!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, it isn't that,” she declared. “Do you know, my dear Leonard, what + there was about you from the very first which attracted me?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “It was your honesty,” she continued. “You remember that night upon the + roof at Blenheim House? You were going to tell a lie for me, and I know + how you hated it. You love the truth, you are truthful naturally; I would + rely upon you wherever I was. I know that you would keep your word, I know + that you would be honest. A woman loves to feel that about a man—she + loves it—and I don't want you to be brought near the people who + sneer at honesty and all good things. I don't want you to hear their point + of view. You may be simple and commonplace in some respects; I want you to + stay just as you are. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” Tavernake replied gravely. + </p> + <p> + A call boy shouted her name down the stone passage. She patted him on the + shoulder and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Run along now and get the money,” she said. “Come and see me when it's + all over.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake left her with a long breath of relief and made his way towards + the Strand. At the corner of Wellington Street he came face to face with + Pritchard. They stopped at once. There seemed to be something embarrassing + about this meeting. Pritchard patted him familiarly on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “How goes it, old man?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am all right,” Tavernake answered, somewhat awkwardly. “How are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'd be the better for a drink,” Pritchard declared. “Come along. + Pretty well done up the other night, weren't we? We'll step into the + American Bar here and try a gin fizz.” + </p> + <p> + They found themselves presently perched upon two high stools in a deserted + corner of the bar to which Pritchard had led the way. Tavernake sipped his + drink tentatively. + </p> + <p> + “I should like,” he said, “to ask you a question or two about Wednesday + night.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Go right ahead,” he invited. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to take the whole affair as a sort of joke,” Tavernake remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, isn't that what it was?” the detective asked, smiling. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “There didn't seem to me to be much joke about it!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laughed gayly. + </p> + <p> + “You are not used to Americans, my young friend,” he said. “Over on this + side you are all so fearfully literal. You are not seriously supposing + that they meant to dose me with that stuff the other night, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I never thought that there was any doubt about it at all,” Tavernake + declared deliberately. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard stroked his moustache meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he remarked, “you are certainly green, and yet I don't know why + you shouldn't be. Americans are always up to games of that sort. I am not + saying that they didn't mean to give me a scare, if they could, or that + they wouldn't have been glad to get a few words of information out of me, + or a paper or two that I keep pretty safely locked up. It would have been + a better joke on me then. But as for the rest, as for really trying to + make me take that stuff, of course, that was all bunkum.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake sat quite still in his chair for several minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Will you take another gin fizz, Mr. Pritchard?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake gave the order. He sat on his stool whistling softly to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose,” he said at last, “I must have looked a pretty sort of an + ass coming through the wall like a madman.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You looked just about what you were,” he answered, “a d——d + good sort. I'm not playing up to you that it was all pretense. You can + never trust that gang. The blackguard outside was in earnest, anyway. + After all, you know, they wouldn't miss me if I were to drop quietly out. + There 's no one else they 're quite so much afraid of. There 's no one + else knows quite as much about them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll let it go at that,” Tavernake declared. “You know so much of + all these people, though, that I rather wish you 'd tell me something I + want very much to know.” + </p> + <p> + “It's by telling nothing,” the detective replied quickly, “that I know as + much as I do. Just one cocktail, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I drank my first cocktail last night,” he remarked. “I had supper with + the professor and his daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Elizabeth?” Pritchard asked swiftly. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “With Miss Beatrice,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard set down his glass. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Tavernake,” he inquired, “you are friendly with that young lady, + Miss Beatrice, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly am,” Tavernake answered. “I have a very great regard for + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can tell you how to do her a good turn,” Pritchard continued, + earnestly. “Keep her away from that old blackguard. Keep her away from all + the gang. Believe me, she is looking for trouble by even speaking to + them.” + </p> + <p> + “But the man's her father,” Tavernake objected, “and he seems fond of + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you believe it,” Pritchard went on. “He's fond of nothing and + nobody but himself and easy living. He's soft, mind you, he's got plenty + of sentiment, he 'll squeeze a tear out of his eye, and all that sort of + thing, but he'd sell his soul, or his daughter's soul, for a little extra + comfort. Now Elizabeth doesn't know exactly where her sister is, and she + daren't seem anxious, or go around making inquiries. Beatrice has her + chance to keep away, and I can tell you it will be a thundering sight + better for her if she does.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't understand it at all,” Tavernake declared. “I hate + mysteries.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard set down his empty glass. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he remarked, “this affair is too serious, after all, for us + to talk round like a couple of gossips. I have given you your warning, and + if you're wise you 'll remember it.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me this one thing,” Tavernake persisted. “Tell me what is the cause + of the quarrel between the two? Can't something be done to bring them + together again?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” he answered. “As things are at present, they are better apart. + Coming my way?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake followed him out of the place. Pritchard took his arm as he + turned down toward the Strand. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he said, “here is a word of advice for you. The + Scriptures say that you cannot serve God and mammon. Paraphrase that to + the present situation and remember that you cannot serve Elizabeth and + Beatrice.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” Tavernake demanded. + </p> + <p> + The detective waited until he had lit the long black cigar between his + teeth. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you'd better confine your attentions to Beatrice,” he concluded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. DINNER WITH ELIZABETH + </h2> + <p> + The rest of that day was for Tavernake a period of feverish anxieties. He + received two telegrams from Mr. Martin, his solicitor, and he himself was + more uneasy than he cared to admit. At three o'clock in the afternoon, at + eight in the evening, and again at eleven o'clock at night, he presented + himself at the Milan Court, always with the same inquiry. On the last + occasion, the hall porter had cheering news for him. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wenham Gardner returned from the country an hour ago, sir,” he + announced. “I can send your name up now, if you wish to see her.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was conscious of a sense of immense relief. Of course, he had + known that she had not really gone away for good, but all the same her + absence, especially after the event of the night before last, was a little + disquieting. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Tavernake,” he said. “I do not wish to intrude at such an + hour, but if she could see me for a moment, I should be glad.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down and waited patiently. Soon a message came that Mr. Tavernake + was to go up. He ascended in the lift and knocked at the door of her + suite. Her maid opened it grudgingly. She scarcely took the pains to + conceal her disapproval of this young man—so ordinary, so gauche. + Why Madame should waste her time upon such a one, she could not imagine! + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Gardner will see you directly,” she told him. “Madame is dressing + now to go out for supper. She will be able to spare you only a few + seconds.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake remained alone in the luxurious little sitting-room for nearly + ten minutes. Then the door of the inner room was opened and Elizabeth + appeared. Tavernake, rising slowly to his feet, looked at her for a moment + in reluctant but wondering admiration. She was wearing an ivory satin + gown, without trimming or lace of any sort, a gown the fit of which seemed + to him almost a miracle. Her only jewelry was a long rope of pearls and a + small tiara. Tavernake had never been brought into close contact with any + one quite like this. + </p> + <p> + She was putting on her gloves as she entered and she gave him her left + hand. + </p> + <p> + “What an extraordinary person you are, Mr. Tavernake!” she exclaimed. “You + really do seem to turn up at the most astonishing times.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry to have intruded upon you to-night,” he said. “As regards + the last occasion, however, upon which I made an unexpected appearance, I + make no apologies whatever,” he added coolly. + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. She was looking full into his eyes and yet he could + not tell whether she was angry with him or only amused. + </p> + <p> + “You were by way of being a little melodramatic, were you not?” she + remarked. “Still, you were very much in earnest, and one forgives a great + deal to any one who is really in earnest. What do you want with me now? I + am just going downstairs to supper.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter of business,” Tavernake replied. “I have a friend who is a + partner with me in the Marston Rise building speculation, and he is + worried because there is some one else in the field wanting to buy the + property, and the day after to-morrow is our last chance of paying over + the money.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him as though puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “What money?” + </p> + <p> + “The money which you agreed to lend me, or rather to invest in our + building company,” he reminded her. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Of course! Why, I had forgotten all about it for the moment. You are + going to give me ten per cent interest or something splendid, aren't you? + Well, what about it? You don't want to take it away with you now, I + suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered, “it isn't that. To be honest with you, I came to make + sure that you hadn't changed your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should I change my mind?” + </p> + <p> + “You might be angry with me,” he said, “for interfering in your concerns + the night before last.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I am,” she remarked, indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish to withdraw from your promise?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I really haven't thought much about it,” she replied, carelessly. + “By-the-bye, have you seen Beatrice lately?” + </p> + <p> + “We agreed, I think,” he reminded her, “that we would not talk about your + sister.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him over her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I do not remember that I agreed to anything of the sort,” she declared. + “I think it was you who laid down the law about that. As a matter of fact, + I think that your silence about her is very unkind. I suppose you have + seen her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have seen her,” Tavernake admitted. + </p> + <p> + “She continues to be tragic,” Elizabeth asked, “whenever my name is + mentioned?” + </p> + <p> + “I should not call it tragic,” Tavernake answered, reluctantly. “One + gathers, however, that something transpired between you before she left, + of a serious nature.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” she said, “you are a strange, stolid young man. I wonder,” she + went on, smiling into his face, “are you in love with my sister?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake made no immediate response, only something flashed for a moment + in his eyes which puzzled her. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you look at me like that?” she demanded. “You are not angry with + me for asking?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not angry,” he replied. “It isn't that. But you must know—you + must see!” + </p> + <p> + Then she indeed did see that he was laboring under a very great emotion. + She leaned towards him, laughing softly. + </p> + <p> + “Now you are really becoming interesting,” she murmured. “Tell me—tell + me all about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what love is!” Tavernake declared fiercely. “I don't know + what it means to be in love!” + </p> + <p> + Again she laughed in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Are you so sure?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + She saw the veins stand out upon his temples, watched the passion which + kept him at first tongue-tied. + </p> + <p> + “Sure!” he muttered. “Who can be sure when you look like that!” + </p> + <p> + He held out his arms. With a swift little backward movement she flitted + away and leaned against the table. + </p> + <p> + “What a brother-in-law you would make!” she laughed. “So steady, so + respectable, alas! so serious! Dear Mr. Tavernake, I wish you joy. As a + matter of fact, you and Beatrice are very well suited for one another.” + </p> + <p> + The telephone bell rang. She moved over and held the receiver to her ear. + Her face changed. After the first few words to which she listened, it grew + dark with anger. + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say that Professor Franklin has not been in since + lunch-time?” she exclaimed. “I left word particularly that I should + require him to-night. Is Major Post there, then? No? Mr. Crease—no? + Nor Mr. Faulkes? Not one of them! Very well, ring me up directly the + professor comes in, or any of them.” + </p> + <p> + She replaced the receiver with a gesture of annoyance. Tavernake was + astonished at the alteration in her expression. The smile had gone, and + with its passing away lines had come under her eyes and about her mouth. + Without a word to him she strode away into her bedroom. Tavernake was just + wondering whether he should retire, when she came back. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Mr. Tavernake,” she said, “how far away are your rooms?” + </p> + <p> + “Down at Chelsea,” he answered, “about two miles and a half.” + </p> + <p> + “Take a taxi and drive there,” she commanded, “or stop. You will find my + car outside. I will telephone down to say that you are to use it. Change + into your evening clothes and come back for me. I want you to take me out + to supper.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in amazement. She stamped her foot. + </p> + <p> + “Don't stand there hesitating!” she ordered. “Do as I say! You don't + expect I am going to help you to buy your wretched property if you refuse + me the simplest of favors? Hurry, I say! Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + “I am really very sorry,” Tavernake interposed, “but I do not possess a + dress suit. I would go, with pleasure, but I haven't got such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him for a moment incredulously. Then she broke into a fit of + uncontrollable laughter. She sat down upon the edge of a couch and wiped + the tears from her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you strange, you wonderful person!” she exclaimed. “You want to buy + an estate and you want to borrow twelve thousand pounds, and you know + where Beatrice is and you won't tell me, and you are fully convinced, + because you burst into a house through the wall, that you saved poor + Pritchard from being poisoned, and you don't possess a dress suit! Never + mind, as it happens it doesn't matter about the dress suit. You shall take + me out as you are.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake felt in his pockets and remembered that he had only thirty + shillings with him. + </p> + <p> + “Here, carry my purse,” she said carelessly. “We are going downstairs to + the smaller restaurant. I have been traveling since six o'clock, and I am + starving.” + </p> + <p> + “But how about my clothes?” Tavernake objected. “Will they be all right?” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter where we are going,” she answered. “You look very well + as you are. Come and let me put your tie straight.” + </p> + <p> + She came close to him and her fingers played for a moment with his tie. + She was very near to him and she laughed deliberately into his face. + Tavernake held himself quite stiff and felt foolish. He also felt absurdly + happy. + </p> + <p> + “There,” she remarked, when she had arranged it to her satisfaction, “you + look all right now. I wonder,” she added, half to herself, “what you do + look like. Something Colonial and forceful, I think. Never mind, help me + on with my cloak and come along. You are a most respectable-looking + escort, and a very useful one.” + </p> + <p> + Although Tavernake was nominally the host, it was Elizabeth who selected + the table and ordered the supper. There were very few other guests in the + room, the majority being down in the larger restaurant, but among these + few Tavernake noticed two of the girls from the chorus at the Atlas. + Elizabeth had chosen a table from which she had a view of the door, and + she took the seat facing it. From the first Tavernake felt certain that + she was watching for some one. + </p> + <p> + “Talk to me now, please, about this speculation,” she insisted. “I should + like to know all about it, and whether you are sure that I shall get ten + per cent for my money.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was in no way reluctant. It was a safe topic for conversation, + and one concerning which he had plenty to say. But after a time she + stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “I have discovered at any rate one subject on which you + can be fluent. Now I have had enough of building properties, please, and + house building. I should like to hear a little about Beatrice.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was dumb. + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish to talk about Beatrice,” he declared, “until I understand + the cause of this estrangement between you.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes flashed angrily and her laugh sounded forced. + </p> + <p> + “Not even talk of her! My dear friend,” she protested, “you scarcely repay + the confidence I am placing in you!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the money?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely,” she continued. “I trust you, why I do not know—I + suppose because I am something of a physiognomist—with twelve + thousand pounds of my hard-earned savings. You refuse to trust me with + even a few simple particulars about the life of my own sister. Come, I + don't think that things are quite as they should be between us.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where I first met your sister?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head pettishly. + </p> + <p> + “How should I? You told me nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “She was staying in a boarding-house where I lived,” Tavernake went on. “I + think I told you that but nothing else. It was a cheap boarding-house but + she had not enough money to pay for her meals. She was tired of life. She + was in a desperate state altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you trying to tell me, or rather trying not to tell me, that Beatrice + was mad enough to think of committing suicide?” Elizabeth inquired. + </p> + <p> + “She was in the frame of mind when such a step was possible,” he answered, + gravely. “You remember that night when I first saw you in the chemist's + shop across the street? She had been very ill that evening, very ill + indeed. You could see for yourself the effect meeting you had upon her.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth nodded, and crumbled a little piece of roll between her fingers. + Then she leaned over the table towards Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “She seemed terrified, didn't she? She hurried you away—she seemed + afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “It was very noticeable,” he admitted. “She was terrified. She dragged me + out of the place. A few minutes later she fainted in the cab.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice was always over-sensitive,” she remarked. “Any sudden shock + unnerved her altogether. Are you terrified of me, too, Mr. Tavernake?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he answered, frankly. “Sometimes I think that I am.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed softly. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + He looked into her eyes and he felt abject. How was it possible to sit + within a few feet of her and remain sane! + </p> + <p> + “You are so wonderful,” he said, in a low tone, “so different from any one + else in the world!” + </p> + <p> + “You are glad that you met me, then—that you are here?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyes once more. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he answered simply. “If I really believed—if you + were always kind like this—but, you see, you make two men of me. + When I am with you I am a fool, your fool, to do as you will with. When I + am away, some glimmerings of common sense come back, and I know.” + </p> + <p> + “You know what?” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “That you are not honest,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake!” she exclaimed, lifting her head a little. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don t mean dishonest in the ordinary way!” he protested, eagerly. + “What I mean is that you look things which you don't feel, that you are + willing for any one who can't help admiring you very much to believe for a + moment that you, too, feel more kindly than you really do. This is so + clumsy,” he broke off, despairingly, “but you understand what I mean!” + </p> + <p> + “You have an adorable way of making yourself understood,” she laughed. + “Come, do let us talk sense for a minute or two. You say that when you are + with me you are my slave. Then why is it that you do not bring Beatrice + here when I beg you to?” + </p> + <p> + “I am your slave,” he answered, “in everything that has to do with myself + and my own actions. In that other matter it is for your sister to decide.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “I suppose I shall be able to endure life without her. + At any rate, we will talk of something else. Tell me, are you not curious + to know why I insisted upon bringing you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted, “I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Spoken with your usual candor, my dear Briton!” she exclaimed. “Well, I + will gratify your curiosity. This, as you see, is not a popular supping + place. A few people come in—mostly those who for some reason or + other don't feel smart enough for the big restaurants. The people from the + theatres come in here who have not time to change their clothes. As you + perceive; the place has a distinctly Bohemian flavor.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked around. + </p> + <p> + “They seem to come in all sorts of clothes,” he remarked. “I am glad.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a man now in London,” Elizabeth continued, “whom I am just as + anxious to see as I am to find my sister. I believe that this is the most + likely place to find him. That is why I have come. My father was to have + been here to take me, but as you heard he has gone out somewhere and not + returned. None of my other friends were available. You happened to come in + just in time.” + </p> + <p> + “And this man whom you want to see,” Tavernake asked, “is he here?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + There were, indeed, only a few scattered groups in the place, and most of + these were obviously theatrical. But even at that moment a man came in + alone through the circular doors, and stood just inside, looking around + him. He was a man of medium height, thin, and of undistinguished + appearance. His hair was light-colored and plastered a little in front + over his forehead. His face was thin and he walked with a slight stoop. + Something about his clothes and his manner of wearing them stamped him as + an American. Tavernake glanced at his companion, wondering whether this, + perhaps, might not be the person for whom she was watching. His first + glance was careless enough, then he felt his heart thump against his ribs. + A tragedy had come into the room! The woman at his side sat as though + turned to stone. There was a look in her face as of one who sees Death. + The small patch of rouge, invisible before, was now a staring daub of + color in an oasis of ashen white. Her eyes were as hard as stones; her + lips were twitching as though, indeed, she had been stricken with some + disease. No longer was he sitting with this most beautiful lady at whose + coming all heads were turned in admiration. It was as though an image of + Death sat there, a frozen presentment of horror itself! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. ON AN ERRAND OF CHIVALRY + </h2> + <p> + The seconds passed; the woman beside him showed no sign of life. Tavernake + felt a fear run cold in his blood, such as in all his days he had never + known. This, indeed, was something belonging to a world of which he knew + nothing. What was it? Illness? Pain? Surprise? There was only his instinct + to tell him. It was terror, the terror of one who looks beyond the grave. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Gardner!” he exclaimed. “Elizabeth!” + </p> + <p> + The sound of his voice seemed to break the spell. A half-choked sob came + through her teeth; the struggle for composure commenced. + </p> + <p> + “I am ill,” she murmured. “Give me my glass. Give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + Her fingers were feeling for it but it seemed as though she dared not move + her head. He filled it with wine and placed the stem in her hand. Even + then she spilled some of it upon the tablecloth. As she raised it to her + lips, the man who stood still upon the threshold of the restaurant looked + into her face. Slowly, as though his quest were over, he came down the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Go away,” she said to Tavernake. “Go away, please. He is coming to speak + to me. I want to be alone with him.” + </p> + <p> + Strangely enough, at that moment Tavernake saw nothing out of the common + in her request. He rose at once, without any formal leave-taking, and made + his way toward the other end of the cafe. As he turned the corner towards + the smoking-room, he glanced once behind. The man had approached quite + close to Elizabeth; he was standing before her table, they seemed to be + exchanging greetings. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake went on into the smoking-room and threw himself into an + easy-chair. He had been there perhaps for ten minutes when Pritchard + entered. Certainly it was a night of surprises! Even Pritchard, cool, + deliberate, slow in his movements and speech, seemed temporarily flurried. + He came into the room walking quickly. As the door swung back, he turned + round as though to assure himself that he was not being followed. He did + not at first see Tavernake. He sat on the arm of an easy-chair, his hands + in his pockets, his eternal cigar in the corner of his mouth, his eyes + fixed upon the doors through which he had issued. Without a doubt, + something had disturbed him. He had the look of a man who had received a + blow, a surprise of some sort over which he was still ruminating. Then he + glanced around the room and saw Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, young man!” he exclaimed. “So this is the way you follow my + advice!” + </p> + <p> + “I never promised to follow it,” Tavernake reminded him. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard wheeled an easy-chair across the room and called to the waiter. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “you shall stand me a drink. Two whiskies and sodas, Tim. + And now, Mr. Leonard Tavernake, you are going to answer me a question.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I?” Tavernake muttered. + </p> + <p> + “You came down in the lift with Mrs. Wenham Gardner half an hour ago, you + went into the restaurant and ordered supper. She is there still and you + are here. Have you quarreled?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we did not quarrel,” Tavernake answered. “She explained that she was + supping in the cafe only for the sake of meeting one man. She wanted an + escort. I filled that post until the man came.” + </p> + <p> + “He is there now?” Pritchard asked. + </p> + <p> + “He is there now,” Tavernake assented. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard withdrew the cigar from his mouth and watched it for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Tavernake,” he went on, “is that man who is now having supper with + Mrs. Wenham Gardner the man whom she expected?” + </p> + <p> + “I imagine so,” Tavernake replied. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't she seem in any way scared or disturbed when he first turned up?” + </p> + <p> + “She looked as I have seen no one else on earth look before,” Tavernake + admitted. “She seemed simply terrified to death. I do not know why—she + didn't explain—but that is how she looked.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet she sent you away!” + </p> + <p> + “She sent me away. She didn't care what became of me. She was watching the + door all the time before he came. Who is he, Pritchard?” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds a simple question,” Pritchard answered gravely, “but it means + a good deal. There's mischief afoot to-night, Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to thrive on it,” Tavernake retorted, drily. “Any more bunkum?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “you're a sensible chap. Take these things for what + they're worth. Believe me when I tell you now that there is a great deal + more in the coming of this man than Mrs. Wenham Gardner ever bargained + for.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd tell me who he is,” Tavernake begged. “All this mystery + about Beatrice and her sister, and that lazy old hulk of a father, is most + irritating.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard nodded sympathetically. + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to put up with it a little longer, I'm afraid, my young + friend,” he declared. “You've done me a good turn; I'll do you one. I'll + give you some good advice. Keep out of this place so long as the old man + and his daughter are hanging out here. The girl 's clever—oh, she's + as clever as they make them—but she's gone wrong from the start. + They ain't your sort, Tavernake. You don't fit in anywhere. Take my advice + and hook it altogether.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I can't do that just now,” he said. “Good-night! I'm off for the present, + at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard, too, rose to his feet. He passed his arm through Tavernake's. + </p> + <p> + “Young man,” he remarked, “there are not many in this country whom I can + trust. You're one of them. There's a sort of solidity about you that I + rather admire. You are not likely to break out and do silly things. Do you + care for adventures?” + </p> + <p> + “I detest them,” Tavernake answered, “especially the sort I tumbled into + the other night.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laughed softly. They had left the room now and were walking + along the open space at the end of the restaurant, leading to the main + exit. + </p> + <p> + “That's the difference between us,” he declared thoughtfully. “Now + adventures to me are the salt of my life. I hang about here and watch + these few respectable-looking men and women, and there doesn't seem to be + much in it to an outsider, but, gee whiz! there's sometimes things + underneath which you fellows don't tumble to. A man asks another in there + to have a drink. They make a cheerful appointment to meet for lunch, to + motor to Brighton. It all sounds so harmless, and yet there are the seeds + of a conspiracy already sown. They hate me here, but they know very well + that wherever they went I should be around. I suppose some day they'll get + rid of me.” + </p> + <p> + “More bunkum!” Tavernake muttered. + </p> + <p> + They stood in front of the door and passed through into the courtyard. On + their right, the interior of the smaller restaurant was shielded from view + by a lattice-work, covered with flowers and shrubs. Pritchard came to a + standstill at a certain point, and stooping down looked through. He + remained there without moving for what seemed to Tavernake an + extraordinarily long time. When he stood up again, there was a distinct + change in his face. He was looking more serious than Tavernake had ever + seen him. But for the improbability of the thing, Tavernake would have + thought that he had turned pale. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he said, “you've got to see me through this. You 've a + sort of fancy for Mrs. Wenham Gardner, I know. To-night you shall be on + her side.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want any more mysteries,” Tavernake protested. “I'd rather go + home.” + </p> + <p> + “It can't be done,” Pritchard declared, taking his arm once more. “You've + got to see me through this. Come up to my rooms for a minute.” + </p> + <p> + They entered the Court and ascended to the eighth floor. Pritchard turned + on the lights in his room, a plainly furnished and somewhat bare + apartment. From a cupboard he took out a pair of rubber-soled shoes and + threw them to Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “Put those on,” he directed. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to do?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + “You are going to help me,” Pritchard answered. “Take my word for it, + Tavernake, it's all right. I could tackle the job alone, but I'd rather + not. Now drink this whiskey and soda and light a cigarette. I shall be + ready in five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “But where are we going?” Tavernake demanded. + </p> + <p> + “You are going,” Pritchard replied, “on an errand of chivalry. You are + going to become once more a rescuer of woman in distress. You are going to + save the life of your beautiful friend Elizabeth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. CLOSE TO TRAGEDY + </h2> + <p> + The actual words of greeting which passed between Elizabeth and the man + whose advent had caused her so much emotion were unimpressive. The + newcomer, with the tips of his fingers resting upon the tablecloth, leaned + slightly towards her. At close quarters, he was even more unattractive + than when Tavernake had first seen him. He was faultily shaped; there was + something a little decadent about his deep-set eyes and receding forehead. + Neither was his expression prepossessing. He looked at her as a man looks + upon the thing he hates. + </p> + <p> + “So, Elizabeth,” he said, “this pleasure has come at last!” + </p> + <p> + “I heard that you were back in England,” she replied. “Pray sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Even then her eyes never left his. All the time they seemed to be fiercely + questioning, seeking for something in his features which eluded them. It + was terrible to see the change which the last few minutes had wrought in + her. Her smooth, girlish face had lost its comeliness. Her eyes, always a + little narrow, seemed to have receded. It was such a change, this, as + comes to a brave man who, in the prime of life, feels fear for the first + time. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to find you at supper,” he declared, taking up the menu. “I am + hungry. You can bring me some grilled cutlets at once,” he added to the + waiter who stood by his side, “and some brandy. Nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + The waiter bowed and hurried off. The woman played with her fan but her + fingers were shaking. + </p> + <p> + “I fear,” he remarked, “that my coming is rather a shock to you. I am + sorry to see you looking so distressed.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not that,” she answered with some show of courage. “You know me too + well to believe me capable of seeking a meeting which I feared. It is the + strange thing which has happened to you during these last few months—this + last year. Do you know—has any one told you—that you seem to + have become even more like—the image of—” + </p> + <p> + He nodded understandingly. + </p> + <p> + “Of poor Wenham! Many people have told me that. Of course, you know that + we were always appallingly alike, and they always said that we should + become more so in middle-age. After all, there is only a year between us. + We might have been twins.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the most terrible thing in likenesses I have ever seen,” the woman + continued slowly. “When you entered the room a few seconds ago, it seemed + to me that a miracle had happened. It seemed to me that the dead had come + to life.” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been a shock,” the man murmured, with his eyes upon the + tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “It was,” she agreed, hoarsely. “Can't you see it in my face? I do not + always look like a woman of forty. Can't you see the gray shadows that are + there? You see, I admit it frankly. I was terrified—I am terrified!” + </p> + <p> + “And why?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” she repeated, looking at him wonderingly. “Doesn't it seem to you a + terrible thing to think of the dead coming back to life?” + </p> + <p> + He tapped lightly upon the tablecloth for a minute with the fingers of one + hand. Then he looked at her again. + </p> + <p> + “It depends,” he said, “upon the manner of their death.” + </p> + <p> + An executioner of the Middle Ages could not have played with his victim + more skillfully. The woman was shivering now, preserving some outward + appearance of calm only by the most fierce and unnatural effort. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that, Jerry?” she asked. “I was not even with—Wenham, + when he was lost. You know all about it, I suppose,—how it + happened?” + </p> + <p> + The man nodded thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard many stories,” he admitted. “Before we leave the subject for + ever, I should like to hear it from you, from your own lips.” + </p> + <p> + There was a bottle of champagne upon the table, ordered at the + commencement of the meal. She touched her glass; the waiter filled it. She + raised it to her lips and set it down empty. Her fingers were clutching + the tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “You ask me a hard thing, Jerry,” she said. “It is not easy to talk of + anything so painful. From the moment we left New York, Wenham was strange. + He drank a good deal upon the steamer. He used to talk sometimes in the + most wild way. We came to London. He had an attack of delirium tremens. I + nursed him through it and took him into the country, down into Cornwall. + We took a small cottage on the outskirts of a fishing village—St. + Catherine's, the place was called. There we lived quietly for a time. + Sometimes he was better, sometimes worse. The doctor in the village was + very kind and came often to see him. He brought a friend from the + neighboring town and they agreed that with complete rest Wenham would soon + be better. All the time my life was a miserable one. He was not fit to be + alone and yet he was a terrible companion. I did my best. I was with him + half of every day, sometimes longer. I was with him till my own health + began to suffer. At last I could stand the solitude no longer. I sent for + my father. He came and lived with us.” + </p> + <p> + “The professor,” her listener murmured. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It was a little better then for me,” she went on, “except that poor + Wenham seemed to take such a dislike to my father. However, he hated every + one in turn, even the doctors, who always did their best for him. One day, + I admit, I lost my temper. We quarreled; I could not help it—life + was becoming insupportable. He rushed out of the house—it was about + three o'clock in the afternoon. I have never seen him since.” + </p> + <p> + The man was looking at her, looking at her closely although he was + blinking all the time. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think became of him?” he asked. “What do people think?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “The only thing he cared to do was swim,” she said. “His clothes and hat + were found down in the little cove near where we had a tent.” + </p> + <p> + “You think, then, that he was drowned?” the man asked. + </p> + <p> + She nodded. Speech seemed to be becoming too painful. + </p> + <p> + “Drowning,” her companion continued, helping himself to brandy, “is not a + pleasant death. Once I was nearly drowned myself. One struggles for a + short time and one thinks—yes, one thinks!” he added. + </p> + <p> + He raised his glass to his lips and set it down. + </p> + <p> + “It is an easy death, though,” he went on, “quite an easy death. By the + way, were those clothes that were found of poor Wenham's identified as the + clothes he wore when he left the house?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “One could not say for certain,” she answered. “I never noticed how he was + dressed. He wore nearly always the same sort of things, but he had an + endless variety.” + </p> + <p> + “And this was seven months ago—seven months.” + </p> + <p> + She assented. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Wenham,” he murmured. “I suppose he is dead. What are you going to + do, Elizabeth?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know,” she replied. “Soon I must go to the lawyers and ask for + advice. I have very little more money left. I have written several times + to New York to you, to his friends, but I have had no answer. After all, + Jerry, I am his wife. No one liked my marrying him, but I am his wife. I + have a right to a share of his property if he is dead. If he has deserted + me, surely I shall be allowed something. I do not even know how rich he + was.” + </p> + <p> + The man at her side smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Much better off than I ever was,” he declared. “But, Elizabeth!” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “There were rumors that, before you left New York, Wenham converted very + large sums of money into letters of credit and bonds, very large sums + indeed.” She shook her head. “He had a letter of credit for about a + thousand pounds, I think,” she said. “There is very little left of the + money he had with him.” + </p> + <p> + “And you find living here expensive, I dare say?” + </p> + <p> + “Very expensive indeed,” she agreed, with a sigh. “I have been looking + forward to seeing you, Jerry. I thought, perhaps, for the sake of old + times you might advise me.” + </p> + <p> + “Of old times,” he repeated to himself softly. “Elizabeth, do you think of + them sometimes?” + </p> + <p> + She was becoming more herself. This was a game she was used to playing. Of + old times, indeed! It seemed only yesterday that these two brothers, who + had the reputation in those days of being the richest young men in New + York, were both at her feet. So far, she had scarcely been fortunate. + There was still a chance, however. She looked up. It seemed to her that he + was losing his composure. Yes, there was something of the old gleam in his + eyes! Once he had been madly enough in love with her. It ought not to be + impossible! + </p> + <p> + “Jerry,” she said, “I have told you these things. It has been so very, + very painful for me. Won't you try now and be kind? Remember that I am all + alone and it is all very difficult for me. I have been looking forward to + your coming. I have thought so often of those times we spent together in + New York. Won't you be my friend again? Won't you help me through these + dark days?” + </p> + <p> + Her hand touched his. For a moment he snatched his away as though stung. + Then he caught her fingers in his and held them as though in a vice. She + smiled, the smile of conscious power. The flush of beauty was streaming + once more into her face. Poor fellow, he was still in love, then! The + fingers which had closed upon hers were burning. What a pity that he was + not a little more presentable! + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he muttered, “we must be friends, Elizabeth. Wenham had all the + luck at first. Perhaps it's going to be my turn now, eh?” + </p> + <p> + He bent towards her. She laughed into his face for a moment and then was + once more suddenly colorless, the smile frozen upon her lips. She began to + shiver. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” he asked. “What is it, Elizabeth?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” she faltered, “only I wish—I do wish that you were not so + much like Wenham. Sometimes a trick of your voice, the way you hold your + head—it terrifies me!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed oddly. + </p> + <p> + “You must get used to that, Elizabeth,” he declared. “I can't help being + like him, you know. We were great friends always until you came. I wonder + why you preferred Wenham.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't ask me—please don't ask me that,” she begged. “Really, I + think he happened to be there just at the moment I felt like making a + clean sweep of everything, of leaving New York and every one and starting + life again, and I thought Wenham meant it. I thought I should be able to + keep him from drinking and to help him start a new life altogether over + here or on the Continent.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little woman,” he said, “you have been disappointed, I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed. + </p> + <p> + “I am only human, you know,” she went on. “Every one told me that Wenham + was a millionaire, too. See how much I have benefited by it. I am almost + penniless, I do not know whether he is dead or alive, I do not know what + to do to get some money. Was Wenham very rich, Jerry?” + </p> + <p> + The man laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was very rich indeed!” he assured her. “It is terrible that you + should be left like this. We will talk about it together presently, you + and I. In the meantime, you must let me be your banker.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Jerry,” she whispered, “you were always generous.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not spoken of the little prude—dear Miss Beatrice,” he + reminded her suddenly. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice was a great trial from the first,” she declared. “You know how + she disliked you both—she was scarcely even civil to Wenham, and she + would never have come to Europe with us if father hadn't insisted upon it. + We took her down to Cornwall with us and there she became absolutely + insupportable. She was always interfering between Wenham and me and + imagining the most absurd things. One day she left us without a word of + warning. I have never seen her since.” + </p> + <p> + The man stared gloomily into his plate. + </p> + <p> + “She was a queer little thing,” he muttered. “She was good, and she seemed + to like being good.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth laughed, not quite pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “You speak as though the rest of us,” she remarked, “were qualified to + take orders in wickedness.” + </p> + <p> + He helped himself to more brandy. + </p> + <p> + “Think back,” he said. “Think of those days in New York, the life we led, + the wild things we did week after week, month after month, the same + eternal round of turning night into day, of struggling everywhere to find + new pleasures, pulling vice to pieces like children trying to find the + inside of their playthings.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't like your mood in the least,” she interrupted. + </p> + <p> + He drummed for a moment upon the tablecloth with his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “We were talking of Beatrice. You don't even know where she is now, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no idea,” Elizabeth declared. + </p> + <p> + “She was with you for long in Cornwall?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth toyed with her wineglass for a minute. + </p> + <p> + “She was there about a month,” she admitted. + </p> + <p> + “And she didn't approve of the way you and Wenham behaved?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Apparently not. She left us, anyway. She didn't understand Wenham in the + least. I shouldn't be surprised,” Elizabeth went on, “to hear that she was + a hospital nurse, or learning typing, or a clerk in an office. She was a + young woman of gloomy ideas, although she was my sister.” + </p> + <p> + He came a little closer towards her. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth,” he said, “we will not talk any more about Beatrice. We will + not talk any more about anything except our two selves.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you really glad to see me again, Jerry?” she asked softly. + </p> + <p> + “You must know it, dear,” he whispered. “You must know that I loved you + always, that I adored you. Oh, you knew it! Don't tell me you didn't. You + knew it, Elizabeth!” + </p> + <p> + She looked down at the tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I knew it,” she admitted, softly. + </p> + <p> + “Can't you guess what it is to me to see you again like this?” he + continued. + </p> + <p> + She sighed. + </p> + <p> + “It is something for me, too, to feel that I have a friend close at hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “they are turning out the lights here. You want to know + about Wenham's property. Let me come upstairs with you for a little time + and I will tell you as much as I can from memory.” + </p> + <p> + He paid the bill, helped her on with her cloak. His fingers seemed like + burning spots upon her flesh. They went up in the lift. In the corridors + he drew her to him and she began to tremble. + </p> + <p> + “What is there strange about you, Jerry?” she faltered, looking into his + face. “You terrify me!” + </p> + <p> + “You are glad to see me? Say you are glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am glad,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + Outside the door of her rooms, she hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she suggested, faintly,—“wouldn't it be better if you + came to-morrow morning?” + </p> + <p> + Once more his fingers touched her and again that extraordinary sense of + fear seemed to turn her blood cold. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied, “I have been put off long enough! You must let me in, + you must talk with me for half an hour. I will go then, I promise. Half an + hour! Elizabeth, haven't I waited an eternity for it?” + </p> + <p> + He took the keys from her fingers and opened the door, closing it again + behind them. She led the way into the sitting-room. The whole place was in + darkness but she turned on the electric light. The cloak slipped from her + shoulders. He took her hands and looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “Jerry,” she whispered, “you mustn't look at me like that. You terrify me! + Let me go!” + </p> + <p> + She wrenched herself free with an effort. She stepped back to the corner + of the room, as far as she could get from him. Her heart was beating + fiercely. Somehow or other, neither of these two young men, over whose + lives she had certainly brought to bear a very wonderful influence, had + ever before stirred her pulses like this. What was it, she wondered? What + was the meaning of it? Why didn't he speak? He did nothing but look, and + there were unutterable things in his eyes. Was he angry with her because + she had married Wenham, or was he blaming her because Wenham had gone? + There was passion in his face, but such passion! Desire, perhaps, but what + else? She caught up a telegram which lay upon her writing desk, and tore + it open. It was an escape for a moment. She read the words, stared, and + read them aloud incredulously. It was from her father. + </p> + <p> + “Jerry Gardner sailed for New York to-day.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at the man, and as she looked her face grew gray and the + thin sheet went quivering from her lifeless fingers to the floor. Then he + began to laugh, and she knew. + </p> + <p> + “Wenham!” she shrieked. “Wenham!” + </p> + <p> + There was murder in his face, murder almost in his laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Your loving husband!” he answered. + </p> + <p> + She sprang for the door but even as she moved she heard the click of the + bolt shot back. He touched the electric switch and the room was suddenly + in darkness. She heard him coming towards her, she felt his hot breath + upon her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “My loving wife!” he whispered. “At last!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. THE MADMAN TALKS + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake turned on the light. Pritchard, with a quick leap forward, + seized Wenham around the waist and dragged him away. Elizabeth had + fainted; she lay upon the floor, her face the color of marble. + </p> + <p> + “Get some water and throw over her,” Pritchard ordered. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake obeyed. He threw open the window and let in a current of air. In + a moment or two the woman stirred and raised her head. + </p> + <p> + “Look after her for a minute,” Pritchard said. “I Il lock this fierce + little person up in the bathroom.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard carried his prisoner out. Tavernake leaned over the woman who + was slowly coming back to consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about it,” she asked, hoarsely. “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Locked up in the bathroom,” Tavernake answered. “Pritchard is taking care + of him. He won't be able to get out.” + </p> + <p> + “You know who it was?” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “I do not,” Tavernake replied. “It isn't my business. I'm only here + because Pritchard begged me to come. He thought he might want help.” + </p> + <p> + She held his fingers tightly. + </p> + <p> + “Where were you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the bathroom when you arrived. Then he bolted the door behind and we + had to come round through your bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + “How did Pritchard find out?” + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about it,” Tavernake replied. “I only know that he peered + through the latticework and saw you sitting there at supper.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled weakly. + </p> + <p> + “It must have been rather a shock to him,” she said. “He has been + convinced for the last six months that I murdered Wenham, or got rid of + him by some means or other. Help me up.” + </p> + <p> + She staggered to her feet. Tavernake assisted her to an easy chair. Then + Pritchard came in. + </p> + <p> + “He is quite safe,” he announced, “sitting on the edge of the bath playing + with a doll.” + </p> + <p> + She shivered. + </p> + <p> + “What is he doing with it?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Showing me exactly, with a shawl pin, where he meant to have stabbed + you,” Pritchard answered, drily. “Now, my dear lady,” he continued, “it + seems to me that I have done you one injustice, at any rate. I certainly + thought you'd helped to relieve the world of that young person. Where did + he come from? Perhaps you can tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I may as well,” she said. “Listen, you have seen what he was + like to-night, but you don't know what it was to live with him. It was + Hell!”—she sobbed—“absolute Hell! He drank, he took drugs, it + was all his servant could do to force him even to make his toilet. It was + impossible. It was crushing the life out of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” Pritchard directed. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't much more to tell,” she continued. “I found an old farmhouse—the + loneliest spot in Cornwall. We moved there and I left him—with + Mathers. I promised Mathers that he should have twenty pounds a week for + every week he kept his master away from me. He has kept him away for seven + months.” + </p> + <p> + “What about that story of yours—about his having gone in swimming?” + Pritchard asked. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted people to believe that he was dead,” she declared defiantly. “I + was afraid that if you or his relations found him, I should have to live + with him or give up the money.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard nodded. + </p> + <p> + “And to-night you thought—” + </p> + <p> + “I thought he was his brother Jerry,” she went on. “The likeness was + always amazing, you know that. I was told that Jerry was in town. I felt + nervous, somehow, and wired to Mathers. I had his reply only last night. + He wired that Wenham was quite safe and contented, not even restless.” + </p> + <p> + “That telegram was sent by Wenham himself,” Pritchard remarked. “I think + you had better hear what he has to say.” + </p> + <p> + She shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “No. I couldn't bear the sight of him again!” + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better,” Pritchard insisted. “I can assure you that he is + quite harmless. I will guarantee that.” + </p> + <p> + He left the room. Soon he returned, his arm locked in the arm of Wenham + Gardner. The latter had the look of a spoilt child who is in disgrace. He + sat sullenly upon a chair and glared at every one. Then he produced a + small crumpled doll, with a thread of black cotton around its neck, and + began swinging it in front of him, laughing at Elizabeth all the time. + </p> + <p> + “Tell us,” Pritchard asked, “what has become of Mathers?” + </p> + <p> + He stopped swinging the doll, shivered for a moment, and then laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind,” he declared. “I guess I don't mind telling. You see, + whatever I was when I did it, I am mad now—quite mad. My friend + Pritchard here says I am mad. I must have been mad or I shouldn't have + tried to hurt that dear beautiful lady over there.” + </p> + <p> + He leered at Elizabeth, who shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “She ran away from me some time ago,” he went on, “sick to death of me she + was. She thought she'd got all my money. She hadn't. There's plenty more, + plenty more. She ran away and left me with Mathers. She was paying him so + much a week to keep me quiet, not to let me go anywhere where I should + talk, to keep me away from her so that she could live up here and see all + her friends and spend my money. And at first I didn't mind, and then I did + mind, and I got angry with Mathers, and Mathers wouldn't let me come away, + and three nights ago I killed Mathers.” + </p> + <p> + There was a little thrill of horror. He looked from one to the other. By + degrees their fear seemed to become communicated to him. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by looking like that, all of you?” he exclaimed. “What + does it matter? He was only my man-servant. I am Wenham Gardner, + millionaire. No one will put me in prison for that. Besides, he shouldn't + have tried to keep me away from my wife. Anyway, it don't matter. I am + quite mad. Mad people can do what they like. They have to stop in an + asylum for six months, and then they're quite cured and they start again. + I don't mind being mad for six months. Elizabeth,” he whined, “come and be + mad, too. You haven't been kind to me. There's plenty more money—plenty + more. Come back for a little time and I'll show you.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you kill Mathers?” Pritchard asked. + </p> + <p> + “I stabbed him when he was stooping down,” Wenham Gardner explained. “You + see, when I left college my father thought it would be good for me to do + something. I dare say it would have been but I didn't want to. I studied + surgery for six months. The only thing I remember was just where to kill a + man behind the left shoulder. I remembered that. Mathers was a fat man, + and he stooped so that his coat almost burst. I just leaned over, picked + out the exact spot, and he crumpled all up. I expect,” he went on, “you'll + find him there still. No one comes near the place for days and days. + Mathers used to leave me locked up and do all the shopping himself. I + expect he's lying there now. Some one ought to go and see.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was sobbing quietly to herself. Tavernake felt the perspiration + break out upon his forehead. There was something appalling in the way this + young man talked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand why you all look so serious,” he continued. “No one is + going to hurt me for this. I am quite mad now. You see, I am playing with + this doll. Sane men don't play with dolls. I hope they'll try me in New + York, though. I am well-known in New York. I know all the lawyers and the + jurymen. Oh, they're up to all sorts of tricks in New York! Say, you don't + suppose they'll try me over here?” he broke off suddenly, turning to + Pritchard. “I shouldn't feel so much at home here.” + </p> + <p> + “Take him away,” Elizabeth begged. “Take him away.” Pritchard nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you'd better hear,” he said. “I am going to take him away now. + I shall send a telegram to the police-station at St. Catherine's. They had + better go up and see what's happened.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard took his captive once more by the arm. The young man struggled + violently. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like you, Pritchard,” he shrieked. “I don't want to go with you. + I want to stay with Elizabeth. I am not really afraid of her. She'd like + to kill me, I know, but she's too clever—oh, she's too clever! I'd + like to stay with her.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard led him away. + </p> + <p> + “We'll see about it later on,” he said. “You'd better come with me just + now.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed behind them. Tavernake staggered up. + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” he declared. “I must go, too.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth was sobbing quietly to herself. She seemed scarcely to hear him. + On the threshold Tavernake turned back. + </p> + <p> + “That money,” he asked, “the money you were going to lend me—was + that his?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up and nodded. Tavernake went slowly out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. A CRISIS + </h2> + <p> + Pritchard was the first visitor who had ever found his way into + Tavernake's lodgings. It was barely eight o'clock on the same morning. + Tavernake, hollow-eyed and bewildered, sat up upon the sofa and gazed + across the room. + </p> + <p> + “Pritchard!” he exclaimed. “Why, what do you want?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laid his hat and gloves upon the table. Already his first swift + glance had taken in the details of the little apartment. The overcoat and + hat which Tavernake had worn the night before lay by his side. The table + was still arranged for some meal of the previous day. Apart from these + things, a single glance assured him that Tavernake had not been to bed. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard drew up an easy-chair and seated himself deliberately. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he announced, “I have come to the conclusion that you + need some more advice.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake rose to his feet. His own reflection in the looking-glass + startled him. His hair was crumpled, his tie undone, the marks of his + night of agony were all too apparent. He felt himself at a disadvantage. + </p> + <p> + “How did you find me out?” he asked. “I never gave you my address.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Even in this country, with a little help,” he said, “those things are + easy enough. I made up my mind that this morning would be to some extent a + crisis with you. You know, Tavernake, I am not a man who says much, but + you are the right sort. You've been in with me twice when I should have + missed you if you hadn't been there.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake seemed to have lost the power of speech. He had relapsed again + into his place upon the sofa. He simply waited. + </p> + <p> + “How in the name of mischief,” Pritchard continued, impressively, “you + came to be mixed up in the lives of this amiable trio, I cannot imagine! I + am not saying a word against Miss Beatrice, mind. All that surprises me is + that you and she should ever have come together, or, having come together, + that you should ever have exchanged a word. You see, I am here to speak + plain truths. You are, I take it, a good sample of the hard, stubborn, + middle-class Briton. These three people of whom I have spoken, belong—Miss + Beatrice, perhaps, by force of circumstances—but still they do + belong to the land of Bohemia. However, when one has got over the surprise + of finding you on intimate terms with Miss Beatrice, there comes a more + amazing thing. You, with hard common sense written everywhere in your + face, have been prepared at any moment, for all I know are prepared now, + to make an utter and complete idiot of yourself over Elizabeth Gardner.” + </p> + <p> + Still Tavernake did not speak. Pritchard looked at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he went on, “I have come here to do you a service, if I can. So far + as I know at present, this very wonderful young lady has kept on the right + side of the law. But see here, Tavernake, she's been on the wrong side of + everything that's decent and straight all her days. She married that poor + creature for his money, and set herself deliberately to drive him off his + head. Last night's tragedy was her doing, not his, though he, poor devil, + will have to end his days in an asylum, and the lady will have his money + to make herself more beautiful than ever with. Now I am going to let you + behind the scenes, my young friend.” + </p> + <p> + Then Tavernake rose to his feet. In the shabby little room he seemed to + have grown suddenly taller. He struck the crazy table with his clenched + fist so that the crockery upon it rattled. Pritchard was used to seeing + men—strong men, too—moved by various passions, but in + Tavernake's face he seemed to see new things. + </p> + <p> + “Pritchard,” Tavernake exclaimed, “I don't want to hear another word!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “what I am going to tell you is the truth. What I am + going to tell you I'd as soon say in the presence of the lady as here.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake took a step forward and Pritchard suddenly realized the man who + had thrown himself through that little opening in the wall, one against + three, without a thought of danger. + </p> + <p> + “If you say a single word more against her,” Tavernake shouted hoarsely, + “I shall throw you out of the room!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard stared at him. There was something amazing about this young + man's attitude, something which he could not wholly grasp. He could see, + too, that Tavernake's words were so few simply because he was trembling + under the influence of an immense passion. + </p> + <p> + “If you won't listen,” Pritchard declared, slowly, “I can't talk. Still, + you've got common sense, I take it. You've the ordinary powers of judging + between right and wrong, and knowing when a man or a woman's honest. I + want to save you—” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” Tavernake exclaimed. “Look here, Pritchard,” he went on, + breathing a little more naturally now, “you came here meaning to do the + right thing—I know that. You're all right, only you don't + understand. You don't understand the sort of person I am. I am twenty-four + years old, I have worked for my own living up here in London since I was + twelve. I was a man, so far as work and independence went, at fifteen. + Since then I have had my shoulder to the wheel; I have lived on nothing; I + have made a little money where it didn't seem possible. I have worried my + way into posts which it seemed that no one could think of giving me, but + all the time I have lived in a little corner of the world—like + that.” + </p> + <p> + His finger suddenly described a circle in the air. + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand—you can't,” he went on, “but there it is. I + never spoke to a woman until I spoke to Beatrice. Chance made me her + friend. I began to understand the outside of some of those things which I + had never even dreamed of before. She set me right in many ways. I began + to read, think, absorb little bits of the real world. It was all + wonderful. Then Elizabeth came. I met her, too, by accident—she came + to my office for a house—Elizabeth!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard found something almost pathetic in the sudden dropping of + Tavernake's voice, the softening of his face. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how to talk about these things,” Tavernake said, simply. + “There's a literature that's reached from before the Bible to now, full of + nothing else. It's all as old as the hills. I suppose I am about the only + sane man in this city who knew nothing of it; but I did know nothing of + it, and she was the first woman. Now you understand. I can't hear a word + against her—I won't! She may be what you say. If so, she's got to + tell me so herself!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you are going to believe any story she likes to put up?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I am going to her,” Tavernake answered, “and I have no idea + in the world what will happen—whether I shall believe her or not. I + can see what you think of me,” he went on, becoming a little more himself + as the stress of unaccustomed speech passed him by. “I will tell you + something that will show you that I realize a good deal. I know the + difference between Beatrice and Elizabeth. Less than a week ago, I asked + Beatrice to marry me. It was the only way I could think of, the only way I + could kill the fever.” + </p> + <p> + “And Beatrice?” Pritchard asked, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “She wouldn't,” Tavernake replied. “After all, why should she? I have my + way to make yet. I can't expect others to believe in me as I believe in + myself. She was kind but she wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard lit a cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Tavernake,” he said, “you are a young man, you've got your + life before you and life's a biggish thing. Empty out those romantic + thoughts of yours, roll up your shirt sleeves and get at it. You are not + one of these weaklings that need a woman's whispers in their ears to spur + them on. You can work without that. It's only a chapter in your life—the + passing of these three people. A few months ago, you knew nothing of them. + Let them go. Get back to where you were.” + </p> + <p> + Then Tavernake for the first time laughed—a laugh that sounded even + natural. + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever found a man who could do that?” he asked. “The candle gives + a good light sometimes, but you'll never think it the finest illumination + in the world when you've seen the sun. Never mind me, Pritchard. I'm going + to do my best still, but there's one thing that nothing will alter. I am + going to make that woman tell me her story, I am going to listen to the + way she tells it to me. You think that where women are concerned I am a + fool. I am, but there is one great boon which has been vouchsafed to fools—they + can tell the true from the false. Some sort of instinct, I suppose. + Elizabeth shall tell me her story and I shall know, when she tells it, + whether she is what you say or what she has seemed to me.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You're a queer sort, Tavernake,” he declared. “You take life plaguy + seriously. I only hope you 'll get all out of it you expect to. So long!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake opened the window after his visitor had gone, and leaned out for + some few minutes, letting the fresh air into the close, stifling room. + Then he went upstairs, bathed and changed his clothes, made some pretense + at breakfast, went through his letters with methodical exactness. At + eleven o'clock he set out upon his pilgrimage. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. TAVERNAKE CHOOSES + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake was kept waiting in the hall of the Milan Court for at least + half an hour before Elizabeth was prepared to see him. He wandered + aimlessly about watching the people come and go, looking out into the + flower-hung courtyard, curiously unconscious of himself and of his errand, + unable to concentrate his thoughts for a moment, yet filled all the time + with the dull and uneasy sensation of one who moves in a dream. Every now + and then he heard scraps of conversation from the servants and passers-by, + referring to the last night's incident. He picked up a paper but threw it + down after only a casual glance at the paragraph. He saw enough to + convince him that for the present, at any rate, Elizabeth seemed assured + of a certain amount of sympathy. The career of poor Wenham Gardner was set + down in black and white, with little extenuation, little mercy. His + misdeeds in Paris, his career in New York, spoke for themselves. He was + quoted as a type, a decadent of the most debauched instincts, to whom + crime was a relaxation and vice a habit. Tavernake would read no more. He + might have been all these things, and yet she had become his wife! + </p> + <p> + At last came the message for which he was waiting. As usual, her maid met + him at the door of her suite and ushered him in. Elizabeth was dressed for + the part very simply, with a suggestion even of mourning in her gray gown. + She welcomed him with a pathetic smile. + </p> + <p> + “Once more, my dear friend,” she said, “I have to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Her fingers closed upon his and she smiled into his face. Tavernake found + himself curiously unresponsive. It was the same smile, and he knew very + well that he himself had not changed, yet it seemed as though life itself + were in a state of suspense for him. + </p> + <p> + “You, too, are looking grave this morning, my friend,” she continued. “Oh, + how horrible it has all been! Within the last two hours I have had at + least five reporters, a gentleman from Scotland Yard, another from the + American Ambassador to see me. It is too terrible, of course,” she went + on. “Wenham's people are doing all they can to make it worse. They want to + know why we were not together, why he was living in the country and I in + town. They are trying to show that he was under restraint there, as if + such a thing were possible! Mathers was his own servant—poor + Mathers!” + </p> + <p> + She sighed and wiped her eyes. Still Tavernake said nothing. She looked at + him, a little surprised. + </p> + <p> + “You are not very sympathetic,” she observed. “Please come and sit down by + my side and I will show you something.” + </p> + <p> + He moved towards her but he did not sit down. She stretched out her hand + and picked something up from the table, holding it towards him. Tavernake + took it mechanically and held it in his fingers. It was a cheque for + twelve thousand pounds. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she said, “I have not forgotten. This is the day, isn't it? If + you like, you can stay and have lunch with me up here and we will drink to + the success of our speculation.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake held the cheque in his fingers; he made no motion to put it in + his pocket. She looked at him with a puzzled frown upon her face. + </p> + <p> + “Do talk or say something, please!” she exclaimed. “You look at me like + some grim figure. Say something. Sit down and be natural.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you some questions?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you may,” she replied. “You may do anything sooner than stand + there looking so grim and unbending. What is it you want to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you understand that Wenham Gardner was this sort of man when you + married him?” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders slightly. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I did,” she admitted. + </p> + <p> + “You married him, then, only because he was rich?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “What else do women marry for, my dear moralist?” she demanded. “It isn't + my fault if it doesn't sound pretty. One must have money!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake inclined his head gravely; he made no sign of dissent. + </p> + <p> + “You two came over to England,” he went on, “with Beatrice and your + father. Beatrice left you because she disapproved of certain things.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You may as well know the truth,” she said. “Beatrice has the most absurd + ideas. After a week with Wenham, I knew that he was not a person with whom + any woman could possibly live. His valet was really only his keeper; he + was subject to such mad fits that he needed some one always with him. I + was obliged to leave him in Cornwall. I can't tell you everything, but it + was absolutely impossible for me to go on living with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” Tavernake remarked, “thought otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth looked at him quickly from below her eyelids. It was hard, + however, to gather anything from his face. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice thought otherwise,” Elizabeth admitted. “She thought that I + ought to nurse him, put up with him, give up all my friends, and try and + keep him alive. Why, it would have been absolute martyrdom, misery for + me,” she declared. “How could I be expected to do such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded gravely. + </p> + <p> + “And the money?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps there I was a trifle calculating,” she confessed. “But + you,” she added, nodding at the cheque in his hand, “shouldn't grumble at + that. I knew when we were married that I should have trouble. His people + hated me, and I knew that in the event of anything happening like this + thing which has happened, they would try to get as little as possible + allowed me. So before we left New York, I got Wenham to turn as much as + ever he could into cash. That we brought away with us.” + </p> + <p> + “And who took care of it?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” she answered, “naturally.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about last night,” Tavernake said. “I suppose I am stupid but I + don't quite understand.” + </p> + <p> + “How should you?” she answered. “Listen, then. Wenham, I suppose got tired + of being shut up with Mathers, although I am sure I don't see what else + was possible. So he waited for his opportunity, and when the man wasn't + looking—well, you know what happened,” she added, with a shiver. “He + got up to London somehow and made his way to Dover Street.” + </p> + <p> + “Why Dover Street?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know,” Elizabeth explained, “that Wenham has a brother—Jerry—who + is exactly like him. These two had rooms in Dover Street always, where + they kept some English clothes and a servant. Jerry Gardner was over in + London. I knew that, and was expecting to see him every day. Wenham found + his way to the rooms, dressed himself in his brother's clothes, even wore + his ring and some of his jewelry, which he knew I should recognize, and + came here. I believed—yes, I believed all the time,” she went on, + her voice trembling, “that it was Jerry who was sitting with me. Once or + twice I had a sort of terrible shiver. Then I remembered how much they + were alike and it seemed to me ridiculous to be afraid. It was not till we + got upstairs, till the door was closed behind me, that he turned round and + I knew!” + </p> + <p> + Her head fell suddenly into her hands. It was almost the first sign of + emotion. Tavernake analyzed it mercilessly. He knew very well that it was + fear, the coward's fear of that terrible moment. + </p> + <p> + “And now?” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” she went on, more cheerfully, “no one will venture to deny that + Wenham is mad. He will be placed under restraint, of course, and the + courts will make me an allowance. One thing is absolutely certain, and + that is that he will not live a year.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake half closed his eyes. Was there no sign of his suffering, no + warning note of the things which were passing out of his life! The woman + who smiled upon him seemed to see nothing. The twitching of his fingers, + the slight quivering of his face, she thought was because of his fear for + her. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” she declared, in a suddenly altered tone, “this is all over and + done with. Now you know everything. There are no more mysteries,” she + added, smiling at him delightfully. “It is all very terrible, of course, + but I feel as though a great weight had passed away. You and I are going + to be friends, are we not?” + </p> + <p> + She rose slowly to her feet and came towards him. His eyes watched her + slow, graceful movements as though fascinated. He remembered on that first + visit of his how wonderful he had thought her walk. She was still smiling + up at him; her fingers fell upon his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “You are such a strange person,” she murmured. “You aren't a little bit + like any of the men I've ever known, any of the men I have ever cared to + have as friends. There is something about you altogether different. I + suppose that is why I rather like you. Are you glad?” + </p> + <p> + For a single wild moment Tavernake hesitated. She was so close to him that + her hair touched his forehead, the breath from her upturned lips fell upon + his cheeks. Her blue eyes were half pleading, half inviting. + </p> + <p> + “You are going to be my very dear friend, are you not—Leonard?” she + whispered. “I do feel that I need some one strong like you to help me + through these days.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake suddenly seized the hands that were upon his shoulders, and + forced them back. She felt herself gripped as though by a vice, and a + sudden terror seized her. He lifted her up and she caught a glimpse of his + wild, set face. Then the breath came through his teeth. He shook all over + but the fit had passed. He simply thrust her away from him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “we cannot be friends! You are a woman without a heart, you + are a murderess!” + </p> + <p> + He tore her cheque calmly in pieces and flung them scornfully away. She + stood looking at him, breathing quickly, white to the lips though the + murder had gone from his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice warned me,” he went on; “Pritchard warned me. Some things I saw + for myself, but I suppose I was mad. Now I know!” + </p> + <p> + He turned away. Her eyes followed him wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she cried out, “you are not going like this? You don't mean + it!” + </p> + <p> + Ever afterwards his restraint amazed him. He did not reply. He closed both + doors firmly behind him and walked to the lift. She came even to the + outside door and called down the corridor. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard, come back for one moment!” + </p> + <p> + He turned his head and looked at her, looked at her from the corner of the + corridor, steadfastly and without speech. Her fingers dropped from the + handle of the door. She went back into her room with shaking knees, and + began to cry softly. Afterwards she wondered at herself. It was the first + time she had cried for many years. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake walked to the city and in less than half an hour's time found + himself in Mr. Martin's office. The lawyer welcomed him warmly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm jolly glad to see you, Tavernake,” he declared. “I hope you've got + the money. Sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake did not sit down; he had forgotten, indeed, to take of his hat. + </p> + <p> + “Martin,” he said, “I am sorry for you. I have been fooled and you have to + pay as well as I have. I can't take up the option on the property. I + haven't a penny toward it except my own money, and you know how much that + is. You can sell my plots, if you like, and call the money your costs. + I've finished.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer looked at him with wide-open mouth. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth are you talking about, Tavernake?” he exclaimed. “Are you + drunk, by any chance?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am quite sober,” Tavernake answered. “I have made one or two bad + mistakes, that's all. You have a power of attorney for me. You can do what + you like with my land, make any terms you please. Good-day!” + </p> + <p> + “But, Tavernake, look here!” the lawyer protested, springing to his feet. + “I say, Tavernake!” he called out. + </p> + <p> + But Tavernake heard nothing, or, if he heard, he took no notice. He walked + out into the street and was lost among the hurrying throngs upon the + pavements. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK TWO + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. NEW HORIZONS + </h2> + <p> + Towards the sky-line, across the level country, stumbling and crawling + over the deep-hewn dikes, wading sometimes through the mud-oozing swamp, + Tavernake, who had left the small railway terminus on foot, made his way + that night steadily seawards, as one pursued by some relentless and + indefatigable enemy. Twilight had fallen like a mantle around him, fallen + over that great flat region of fens and pastureland and bog. Little + patches of mist, harbingers of the coming obscurity, were being drawn now + into the gradual darkness. Lights twinkled out from the far-scattered + homesteads. Here and there a dog barked, some lonely bird seeking shelter + called to its mate, but of human beings there seemed to be no one in sight + save the solitary traveler. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was in grievous straits. His clothes were caked with mud, his + hair tossed with the wind, his cheeks pale, his eyes set with the despair + of that fierce upheaval through which he had passed. For many hours the + torture which had driven him back towards his birthplace had triumphed + over his physical exhaustion. Now came the time, however, when the latter + asserted itself. With a half-stifled moan he collapsed. Sheer fatigue + induced a brief but merciful spell of uneasy slumber. He lay upon his back + near one of the broader dikes, his arms outstretched, his unseeing eyes + turned toward the sky. The darkness deepened and passed away again before + the light of the moon. When at last he sat up, it was a new world upon + which he looked, a strange land, moonlit in places, yet full of shadowy + somberness. He gazed wonderingly around—for the moment he had + forgotten. Then memory came, and with memory once more the stab at his + heart. He rose to his feet and went resolutely on his way. + </p> + <p> + Almost until the dawn he walked, keeping as near as he could to that long + monotonous line of telegraph posts, yet avoiding the road as much as + possible. With the rising of the sun, he crept into a wayside hovel and + lay there hidden for hours. Hunger and thirst seemed like things which had + passed him by. It was sleep only which he craved, sleep and forgetfulness. + </p> + <p> + Dusk was falling again before he found himself upon his feet, starting out + once more upon this strangely thought-of pilgrimage. This time he kept to + the road, plodding along with tired, dejected footsteps, which had in them + still something of that restless haste which drove him ceaselessly onward + as though he were indeed possessed of some unquiet spirit. He was + recovering now, however, a little of his natural common sense. He + remembered that he must have food and drink, and he sought them from the + wayside public-house like an ordinary traveler, conquering without any + apparent effort that first invincible repugnance of his toward the face of + any human being. Then on again across this strange land of windmills and + spreading plains, until the darkness forced him to take shelter once more. + That night he slept like a child. With the morning, the fever had passed + from his blood. A great wind blew in his face even as he opened his eyes, + touched to wakefulness by the morning sun, a wind that came booming over + the level places, salt with the touch of the ocean and fragrant with the + perfume of many marsh plants. He was coming toward the sea now, and within + a very short distance from where he had spent the night, he found a broad, + shining river stealing into the land. With eager fingers he stripped + himself and plunged in, diving again and again below the surface, swimming + with long, lazy strokes backwards and forwards. Afterwards he lay down in + the warm, dry grass, dressed himself slowly, and went on his way. The + wind, which had increased now since the early morning, came thundering + across the level land, bending the tops of the few scattered trees, + sending the sails of the windmills spinning, bringing on its bosom now + stronger than ever the flavor of the sea itself, salt and stimulating. + Tavernake told himself that this was a new world into which he was coming. + He would pass into its embrace and life would become a new thing. + </p> + <p> + Towards evening with many a thrill of reminiscence, he descended a steep + hill and walked into a queer time-forgotten village, whose scattered + red-tiled cottages were built around an arm of the sea. Boldly enough now + he entered the one inn which flaunted its sign upon the cobbled street, + and, taking a seat in the stone-floored kitchen, ate and drank and bespoke + a bed. Later on, he strolled down to the quay and made friends with the + few fishermen who were loitering there. They answered his questions + readily, although he found it hard at first to pick up again the dialect + of which he himself had once made use. The little place was scarcely + changed. All progress, indeed, seemed to have passed it by. There were a + handful of fishermen, a boat-builder and a fish-curer in the village. + There was no other industry save a couple of small farmhouses on the + outskirts of the place, no railway within twelve miles. Tourists came + seldom, excursionists never. In the half contented, half animal-like + expression which seemed common to all the inhabitants, Tavernake read + easily enough the history of their uneventful days. It was such a shelter + as this, indeed, for which he had been searching. + </p> + <p> + On the second night after his arrival, he walked with the boatbuilder upon + the wooden quay. The boatbuilder's name was Nicholls, and he was a man of + some means, deacon of the chapel, with a fair connection as a jobbing + carpenter, and possessor of the only horse and cart in the place. + </p> + <p> + “Nicholls,” Tavernake said, “you don't remember me, do you?” + </p> + <p> + The boat-builder shook his head slowly and ponderously. + </p> + <p> + “There was Richard Tavernake who farmed the low fields,” he remarked, + reminiscently. “Maybe you're a son of his. Now I come to think of it, he + had a boy apprenticed to the carpentering.” + </p> + <p> + “I was the boy,” Tavernake answered. “I soon had enough of it and went to + London.” + </p> + <p> + “You'm grown out of all knowledge,” Nicholls declared, “but I mind you + now. So you've been in London all these years?” + </p> + <p> + “I've been in London,” Tavernake admitted, “and I think, of the two, that + Sprey-by-the-Sea is the better place.” + </p> + <p> + “Sprey is well enough,” the boat-builder confessed, “well enough for a man + who isn't set on change.” + </p> + <p> + “Change,” Tavernake asserted, grimly, “is an overrated joy. I have had too + much of it in my life. I think that I should like to stay here for some + time.” + </p> + <p> + The boat-builder was surprised, but he was a man of heavy and deliberate + turn of mind and he did not commit himself to speech. Tavernake continued. + </p> + <p> + “I used to know something of carpentering in my younger days,” he said, + “and I don't think that I have forgotten it all. I wonder if I could find + anything to do down here?” + </p> + <p> + Matthew Nicholls stroked his beard thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “The folk round about are not over partial to strangers,” he observed, + “and you'm been away so long I reckon there's not many as'd recollect you. + And as for carpentering jobs, there's Tom Lake over at Lesser Blakeney and + his brother down at Brancaster, besides me on the spot, as you might say. + It's a poor sort of opening there'd be, if you ask my opinion, especially + for one like yourself, as 'as got education.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be satisfied with very little,” Tavernake persisted. “I want to + work with my hands. I should like to forget for a time that I have had any + education at all.” + </p> + <p> + “That do seem mightily queer to me,” Nicholls remarked, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “it isn't altogether unnatural. I want to make something + with my hands. I think that I could build boats. Why do you not take me + into your yard? I could do no harm and I should not want much pay.” + </p> + <p> + Matthew Nicholls stroked his beard once more and this time he counted + fifty, as was his custom when confronted with a difficult matter. He had + no need to do anything of the sort, for nothing in the world would have + induced him to make up his mind on the spot as to so weighty a proposal. + </p> + <p> + “It's not likely that you're serious,” he objected. “You are a young man + and strong-limbed, I should imagine, but you've education—one can + tell it by the way you pronounce your words. It's but a poor living, after + all, to be made here.” + </p> + <p> + “I like the place,” Tavernake declared doggedly. “I am a man of small + needs. I want to work all through the day, work till I am tired enough to + sleep at night, work till my bones ache and my arms are sore. I suppose + you could give me enough to live on in a humble way?” + </p> + <p> + “Take a bite of supper with me,” Nicholls answered. “In these serious + affairs, my daughter has always her say. We will put the matter before her + and see what she thinks of it.” + </p> + <p> + They lingered about the quay until the light from Wells Lighthouse flashed + across the sea, and until in the distance they could hear the moaning of + the incoming tide as it rippled over the bar and began to fill the tidal + way which stretched to the wooden pier itself. Then the two men made their + way along the village street, through a field, and into the little yard + over which stood the sign of “Matthew Nicholls, Boat-Builder.” At one + corner of the yard was the cottage in which he lived. + </p> + <p> + “You'll come right in, Mr. Tavernake,” he said, the instincts of + hospitality stirring within him as soon as they had passed through the + gate. “We will talk of this matter together, you and me and the daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake seemed, on his introduction to the household, like a man unused + to feminine society. Perhaps he did not expect to find such a type of her + sex as Ruth Nicholls in such a remote neighborhood. She was thin, and her + cheeks were paler than those of any of the other young women whom he had + seen about the village. Her eyes, too, were darker, and her speech + different. There was nothing about her which reminded him in the least of + the child with whom he had played. Tavernake watched her intently. + Presently the idea came to him that she, too, was seeking shelter. + </p> + <p> + Supper was a simple meal, but it was well and deftly served. The girl had + the gift of moving noiselessly. She was quick without giving the + impression of haste. To their guest she was courteous, but her + recollection of him appeared to be slight, and his coming but a matter of + slight interest. After she had cleared the cloth, however, and produced a + jar of tobacco, her father bade her sit down with them. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” he began, ponderously, “is thinking some of settling down + in these parts, Ruth.” + </p> + <p> + She inclined her head gravely. + </p> + <p> + “It appears,” her father continued, “that he is sick and tired of the city + and of head-work. He is wishful to come into the yard with me, if so be + that we could find enough work for two.” + </p> + <p> + The girl looked at their visitor, and for the first time there was a + measure of curiosity in her earnest gaze. Tavernake was, in his way, good + enough to look upon. He was well-built, his shoulders and physique all + spoke of strength. His features were firmly cut, although his general + expression was gloomy. But for a certain moroseness, an uncouthness which + he seemed to cultivate, he might even have been deemed good-looking. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake would make a great mistake,” she said, hesitatingly. “It is + not well for those who have brains to work with their hands. It is not a + place for those to live who have been out in the world. At most seasons of + the year it is but a wilderness. Sometimes there is little enough to do, + even for father.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not ambitious for over-much work or for over-much money, Miss + Nicholls,” Tavernake replied. “I will be frank with you both. Things out + in the world there went ill with me; it was not my fault, but they went + ill with me. What ambitions I had are finished—for the present, at + any rate. I want to rest, I want to work with my hands, to grow my muscles + again, to feel my strength, to believe that there is something effective + in the world I can do. I have had a shock, a disappointment,—call it + what you like.” + </p> + <p> + The old man Nicholls nodded deliberately. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he pronounced, “it's a big change to make. I never thought of help + in the yard before. When there's been more than I could do, I've just let + it go. Come for a week on trial, Leonard Tavernake. If we are of any use + to one another, we shall soon know of it.” + </p> + <p> + The girl, who had been looking out into the night, came back. + </p> + <p> + “You are making a mistake, Mr. Tavernake,” she said. “You are too young + and strong to have finished your battle.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her steadily and sighed. It was only too obvious that hers + had been fought and lost. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” he replied softly, “you are right. Perhaps it is only the rest + I want. We shall see.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE SIMPLE LIFE + </h2> + <p> + So Tavernake became a boat-builder. Summer passed into winter and this + hamlet by the sea seemed, indeed, as though it might have been one of the + forgotten spots upon the earth. Save for that handful of cottages, the two + farmhouses a few hundred yards inland, and the deserted Hall half-hidden + in its grove of pine trees, there was no dwelling-place nor any sign of + human habitation for many miles. For eight hours a day Tavernake worked, + mostly out of doors, in the little yard which hung over the beach. + Sometimes he rested from his labors and looked seaward, looked around him + as though rejoicing in that unbroken solitude, the emptiness of the gray + ocean, the loneliness of the land behind. What things there were which lay + back in the cells of his memory, no person there knew, for he spoke of his + past to no one, not even to Ruth. He was a good workman, and he lived the + simple life of those others without complaint or weariness. There was + nothing in his manner to denote that he had been used to anything else. + The village had accepted him without question. It was only Ruth who still, + gravely but kindly enough, disapproved of his presence. + </p> + <p> + One day she came and sat with him as he smoked his after-dinner pipe, + leaning against an overturned boat, with his eyes fixed upon that line of + gray breakers. + </p> + <p> + “You spend a good deal of your time thinking, Mr. Tavernake,” she remarked + quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Too much,” he admitted at once, “too much, Miss Nicholls. I should be + better employed planing down that mast there.” + </p> + <p> + “You know that I did not mean that,” she said, reprovingly, “only + sometimes you make me—shall I confess it?—almost angry with + you.” + </p> + <p> + He took his pipe from his mouth and knocked out the ashes. As they fell on + the ground so he looked at them. + </p> + <p> + “All thought is wasted time,” he declared, grimly, “all thought of the + past. The past is like those ashes; it is dead and finished.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Not always,” she replied. “Sometimes the past comes to life again. + Sometimes the bravest of us quit the fight too soon.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her questioningly, almost fiercely. Her words, however, + seemed spoken without intent. + </p> + <p> + “So far as mine is concerned,” he pronounced, “it is finished. There is a + memorial stone laid upon it, and no resurrection is possible.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot tell,” she answered. “No one can tell.” + </p> + <p> + He turned back to his work almost rudely, but she stayed by his side. + </p> + <p> + “Once,” she remarked, reflectively, “I, too, went a little way into the + world. I was a school-teacher at Norwich. I was very fond of some one + there; we were engaged. Then my mother died and I had to come back to look + after father.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “We are a long way from Norwich,” she continued, quietly. “Soon after I + left, the man whom I was fond of grew lonely. He found some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “You have forgotten him?” Tavernake asked, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I shall never forget him,” she replied. “That part of life is finished, + but if ever my father can spare me, I shall go back to my work again. + Sometimes those work the best and accomplish the most who carry the scars + of a great wound.” + </p> + <p> + She turned away to the house, and after that it seemed to him that she + avoided him for a time. At any rate, she made no further attempt to win + his confidence. Propinquity, however, was too much for both of them. He + was a lodger under her father's roof. It was scarcely possible for them to + keep apart. Saturdays and Sundays they walked sometimes for miles across + the frost-bound marshes, in the quickening atmosphere of the darkening + afternoons, when the red sun sank early behind the hills, and the twilight + grew shorter every day. They watched the sea-birds together and saw the + wild duck come down to the pools; felt the glow of exercise burn their + cheeks; felt, too, that common and nameless exultation engendered by their + loneliness in the solitude of these beautiful empty places. In the + evenings they often read together, for Nicholls, although no drinker, + never missed his hour or so at the village inn. Tavernake, in time, began + to find a sort of comfort in her calm, sexless companionship. He knew very + well that he was to her as she was to him, something human, something that + filled an empty place, yet something without direct personality. Little by + little he felt the bitterness in his heart grow less. Then a late spring—late, + at any rate, in this quaint corner of the world—stole like some + wonderful enchantment across the face of the moors and the marshes. Yellow + gorse starred with golden clumps the brown hillside; wild lavender gleamed + in patches across the silver-streaked marshes; the dead hedges came + blossoming into life. Crocuses, long lines of yellow and purple crocuses, + broke from waxy buds into starlike blossoms along the front of Matthew + Nicholls's garden. And with the coming o spring, Tavernake found himself + suddenly able to thin of the past. It was a new phase of life. He could + sit down and think of those things that had happened to him, without + fearing to be wrecked by the storm. Often he sat out looking seaward, + thinking of the days when he had first met Beatrice, of those early days + of pleasant companionship, of the marvelous avidity with which he had + learned from her. Only when Elizabeth's face stole into the foreground did + he spring from his place and turn back to his work. + </p> + <p> + One day Tavernake sat poring over the weekly local paper, reading it more + out of curiosity than from any real interest. Suddenly a familiar name + caught his eye. His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment, and the + page swam before his eyes. Quickly he recovered himself and read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE QUEEN'S HALL, UNTHANK ROAD, + NORWICH + + TWICE DAILY. + PROFESSOR FRANKLIN + assisted by his daughter, + MISS BEATRICE FRANKLIN, + will give his REFINED and MARVELOUS + ENTERTAINMENT, comprising HYPNOTISM, feats + Of SECOND SIGHT never before attempted on + any stage, THOUGHT-READING, and a BRIEF + LECTURE upon the connection between ANCIENT + SUPERSTITIONS and the EXTRAORDINARY + DEVELOPMENTS OF THE NEW SCIENCE. + + PROFESSOR FRANKLIN Can be CONSULTED PRIVATELY, + by letter or by appointment. Address for this + week—The Golden Cow, Bell's Lane, Norwich. +</pre> + <p> + Twice Tavernake read the announcement. Then he went out and found Ruth. + </p> + <p> + “Ruth,” he told her, “there is something calling me back, perhaps for + good.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time she gave him her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Now you are talking like a man once more,” she declared. “Go and seek it. + Comeback and say good-bye to us, if you will, but throw your tools into + the sea.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake laughed and looked across at his workshop. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe,” he said, “that you've any confidence in my boat.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sure that I would sail with you,” she answered, “even if you ever + finished it. A laborer's work for a laborer's hand. You must go back to + the other things.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. OLD FRIENDS MEET + </h2> + <p> + The professor set down his tumbler upon the zinc-rimmed counter. He was + very little changed except that he had grown a shade stouter, and there + was perhaps more color in his cheeks. He carried himself, too, like a man + who believes in himself. In the small public-house he was, without doubt, + an impressive figure. + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” he remarked, “our host's whiskey is good. At the same time, + I must not forget—” + </p> + <p> + “You'll have one with me, Professor,” a youth at his elbow interrupted. + “Two special whiskies, miss, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + The professor shrugged his shoulders—it was a gesture which he + wished every one to understand. He was suffering now the penalty for a + popularity which would not be denied! + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind, sir,” he said, “very kind, indeed. As I was about to + say, I must not forget that in less than half an hour I am due upon the + stage. It does not do to disappoint one's audience, sir. It is a poor + place, this music-hall, but it is full, they tell me packed from floor to + ceiling. At eight-thirty I must show myself.” + </p> + <p> + “A marvelous turn, too, Professor,” declared one of the young men by whom + he was surrounded. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sir,” the professor replied, turning towards the speaker, + glass in hand. “There have been others who have paid me a similar + compliment; others, I may say, not unconnected with the aristocracy of + your country—not unconnected either, I might add,” he went on, “with + the very highest in the land, those who from their exalted position have + never failed to shower favors upon the more fortunate sons of our + profession. The science of which I am to some extent the pioneer—not + a drop more, my young friend. Say, I'm in dead earnest this time! No more, + indeed.” + </p> + <p> + The young man in knickerbockers who had just come in banged the head of + his cane upon the counter. + </p> + <p> + “You'll never refuse me, Professor,” he asserted, confidently. “I'm an old + supporter, I am. I've seen you in Blackburn and Manchester, and twice + here. Just as wonderful as ever! And that young lady of yours, Professor, + begging your pardon if she is your daughter, as no doubt she is, why, + she's a nut and no mistake.” + </p> + <p> + The professor sighed. He was in his element but he was getting uneasy at + the flight of time. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he said, “your face is not familiar to me but I cannot + refuse your kindly offer. It must be the last, however, absolutely the + last.” + </p> + <p> + Then Tavernake, directed here from the music-hall, pushed open the swing + door and entered. The professor set down his glass untasted. Tavernake + came slowly across the room. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't forgotten me, then, Professor?” he remarked, holding out his + hand. + </p> + <p> + The professor welcomed him a little limply; something of the bombast had + gone out of his manner. Tavernake's arrival had reminded him of things + which he had only too easily forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “This is very surprising,” he faltered, “very surprising indeed. Do you + live in these parts?” + </p> + <p> + “Not far away,” Tavernake answered. “I saw your announcement in the + papers.” + </p> + <p> + The professor nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “I am on the war-path again. I tried resting but I got fat + and lazy, and the people wouldn't have it, sir,” he continued, recovering + very quickly something of his former manner. “The number of offers I got + through my agents by every post was simply astounding—astounding!” + </p> + <p> + “I am looking forward to seeing your performance this evening,” Tavernake + said politely. “In the meantime—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you are thinking of,” the professor interrupted. “Well, well, + give me your arm and we will walk down to the hall together. My friends,” + the professor added, turning round, “I wish you all a good-night!” + </p> + <p> + Then the door was pushed half-way open and Tavernake's heart gave a jump. + It was Beatrice who stood there, very pale, very tired, and much thinner + even than the Beatrice of the boardinghouse, but still Beatrice. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she exclaimed, “do you know that it is nearly—” + </p> + <p> + Then she saw Tavernake and said no more. She seemed to sway a little, and + Tavernake, taking a quick step forward, grasped her by the hands. + </p> + <p> + “Dear sister,” he cried, “you have been ill!” + </p> + <p> + She was herself again almost in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Ill? Never in my life,” she replied. “Only I have been hurrying—we + are late already for the performance—and seeing you there, well, it + was quite a shock, you know. Walk down with us and tell me all about it. + Tell us what you are doing here—or rather, don't talk for a moment! + It is all so amazing.” + </p> + <p> + They turned down the narrow cobbled street, the professor walking in the + middle of the roadway, swinging his cane, a very imposing and wonderful + figure, with the tails of his frock-coat streaming in the wind, his long + hair only half-hidden by his hat. He hummed a tune to himself and affected + not to take any notice of the other two. Then Tavernake suddenly realized + that he had done a cowardly action in leaving her without a word. + </p> + <p> + “There is so much to ask,” she began at last, “but you have come back.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at his workman's clothes. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been doing?” she asked, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Working,” Tavernake answered, “good work, too. I am the better for it. + Don't mind my clothes, Beatrice. I have been mad for a time, but after all + it has been a healthy madness.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a strange thing that you did,” she said,—“you disappeared.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Some day,” he told her, “I may, perhaps, be able to make you understand. + Just now I don't think that I could.” + </p> + <p> + “It was Elizabeth?” she whispered, softly. + </p> + <p> + “It was Elizabeth,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + They said no more then till they reached the hall. She stopped at the door + and put out her hand timidly. + </p> + <p> + “I shall see you afterwards?” she ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind my coming to the performance?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “A few moments ago,” she remarked, smiling, “I was dreading your coming. + Now I think that you had better. It will be all over at ten o'clock, and I + shall look for you outside. You are living in Norwich?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be here for to-night, at any rate,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” she said, “afterwards we will have a talk.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake passed through the scattered knot of loiterers at the door and + bought a seat for himself in the little music-hall, which, notwithstanding + the professor's boast, was none too well filled. It was a place of the + old-fashioned sort, with small tables in the front, and waiters hurrying + about serving drinks. The people were of the lowest order, and the + atmosphere of the room was thick with tobacco smoke. A young woman in a + flaxen wig and boy's clothes was singing a popular ditty, marching up and + down the stage, and interspersing the words o f her song with grimaces and + appropriate action. Tavernake sat down with a barely-smothered groan. He + was beginning to realize the tragedy upon which he had stumbled. A comic + singer followed, who in a dress suit several sizes too large for him gave + an imitation of a popular Irish comedian. Then the curtain went up and the + professor was seen, standing in front of the curtain and bowing solemnly + to a somewhat unresponsive audience. A minute later Beatrice came quietly + in and sat by his side. There was nothing new about the show. Tavernake + had seen the same thing before, with the exception that the professor was + perhaps a little behind the majority of his fellow-craftsmen. The + performance was finished in dead silence, and after it was over, Beatrice + came to the front and sang. She was a very unusual figure in such a place, + in a plain black evening gown, with black gloves and no jewelry, but they + encored her heartily, and she sang a song from the musical comedy in which + Tavernake had first seen her. A sudden wave of reminiscence stirred within + him. His thoughts seemed to go back to the night when he had waited for + her outside the theatre and they had had supper at Imano's, to the day + when he had left the boarding-house and entered upon his new life. It was + more like a dream than ever now. + </p> + <p> + He rose and quitted the place immediately she had finished, waiting in the + street until she appeared. She came out in a few minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Father is going to a supper,” she announced, “at the inn where he has a + room for receiving people. Will you come home with me for an hour? Then we + can go round and fetch him.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + Her lodgings were only a few steps away—a strange little house in a + narrow street. She opened the front door and ushered him in. + </p> + <p> + “You understand, of course,” she said, smiling, “that we have abandoned + the haunts of luxury altogether.” + </p> + <p> + He looked around at the tiny room with its struggling fire and horsehair + sofa, linoleum for carpet, oleographs for pictures, and he shivered, not + for his own sake but for hers. On the sideboard were some bread and cheese + and a bottle of ginger beer. + </p> + <p> + “Please imagine,” she begged, taking the pins from her hat, “that you are + in those dear comfortable rooms of ours down at Chelsea. Draw that + easy-chair up to what there is of the fire, and listen. You smoke still?” + </p> + <p> + “I have taken to a pipe,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Then light it and listen,” she went on, smoothing her hair for a minute + in front of the looking-glass. “You want to know about Elizabeth, of + course.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “I want to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth, on the whole,” Beatrice continued, “got out of all her + troubles very well. Her husband's people were wild with her, but Elizabeth + was very clever. They were never able to prove that she had exercised more + than proper control over poor Wenham. He died two months after they took + him to the asylum. They offered Elizabeth a lump sum to waive all claims + to his estate, and she accepted it. I think that she is now somewhere on + the Continent.” + </p> + <p> + “And you?” he asked. “Why did you leave the theatre?” + </p> + <p> + “It was a matter of looking after my father,” she explained. “You see, + while he was there with Elizabeth he had too much money and nothing to do. + The consequence was that he was always—well, I suppose I had better + say it—drinking too much, and he was losing all his desire for work. + I made him promise that if I could get some engagements he would come away + with me, so I went to an agent and we have been touring like this for + quite a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “But what a life for you!” Tavernake exclaimed. “Couldn't you have stayed + on at the theatre and found him something in London?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “In London,” she said, “he would never have got out of his old habits. And + then,” she went on, hesitatingly, “you understand that the public want + something else besides the hypnotism—” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake interrupted her ruthlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I understand,” he declared, “I was there to-night. I understood + at once why you were not very anxious for me to go. The people cared + nothing at all about your father's performance. They simply waited for + you. You would get the same money if you went round without him.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, a trifle shamefacedly. + </p> + <p> + “I am so afraid some one will tell him,” she confessed. “They nearly + always ask me to leave out his part of the performance. They have even + offered me more money if I would come alone. But you see how it is. He + believes in himself, he thinks he is very clever and he believes that the + public like his show. It is the only thing which helps him to keep a + little self-respect. He thinks that my singing is almost unnecessary.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake looked into that faint glimmer of miserable fire. He was + conscious of a curious feeling in his throat. How little he knew of life! + The pathos of what she had told him, the thought of her bravely traveling + the country and singing at third-rate music-halls, never taking any credit + to herself, simply that her father might still believe himself a man of + talent, appealed to him irresistibly. He suddenly held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little Beatrice!” he exclaimed. “Dear little sister!” + </p> + <p> + The hand he gripped was cold, she avoided his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You—you mustn't,” she murmured. “Please don't!” + </p> + <p> + He held out his other hand and half rose, but her lips suddenly ceased to + quiver and she waved him back. + </p> + <p> + “No, Leonard,” she begged, “please don't do or say anything foolish. Since + we do meet again, though, like this, I am going to ask you one question. + What made you come to me and ask me to marry you that day?” + </p> + <p> + He looked away; something in her eyes accused him. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he confessed, “I was a thick-headed ignorant fool, without + understanding. I came to you for safety. I was afraid of Elizabeth, I was + afraid of what I felt for her. I wanted to escape from it.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled piteously. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't a very brave thing to do, was it?” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “It was mean,” he admitted. “It was worse than that. But, Beatrice,” he + went on, “I was missing you horribly. You did leave a big empty place when + you went away. I am not going to excuse myself about Elizabeth. I lived + through a time of the strangest, most marvelous emotions one could dream + of. Then the thing came to an end and I felt as though the bottom had gone + out of life. I suppose—I loved her,” he continued hesitatingly. “I + don't know. I only know that she filled every thought of my brain, that + she lived in every beat of my heart, that I would have gone down into Hell + to help her. And then I understood. That morning she told me something of + the truth about herself, not meaning to—unconsciously—justifying + herself all the time, not realizing that every word she said was damnable. + And then there didn't seem to be anything else left, and I had only one + desire. I turned my back upon everything and I went back to the place + where I was born, a little fishing village. For the last thirty miles I + walked. I shall never forget it. When I got there, what I wanted was work, + work with my hands. I wanted to build something, to create anything that I + could labor upon. I became a boat builder—I have been a boatbuilder + ever since.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice!” + </p> + <p> + She turned and faced him. She looked into his eyes very searchingly, very + wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he said, “I ask you once more, only differently. Will you + marry me now? I'll find some work, I'll make enough money for us. Do you + remember,” he went on, “how I used to talk, how I used to feel that I had + only to put forth my strength and I could win anything? I'll feel like + that again, Beatrice, if you'll come to me.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head slowly. She looked away from him with a sigh. She had + the air of one who has sought for something which she has failed to find. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't think of that again, Leonard,” she told him. “It would be + quite impossible. This is the only way I can save my father. We have a + tour that will take us the best part of another year.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are sacrificing yourself!” he declared. “I will keep your + father.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't that only,” she replied. “For one thing, I couldn't let you; and + for another, it isn't only the money, it's the work. As long as he's made + to think that the public expect him every night, he keeps off drinking too + much. There is nothing else in the whole world which would keep him + steady. Don't look as though you didn't understand, Leonard. He is my + father, you know, and there isn't anything more terrible than to see any + one who has a claim on us give way to anything like that. You mayn't quite + approve, but please believe that I am doing what I feel to be right.” + </p> + <p> + The little fire had gone out. Beatrice glanced at the clock and put on her + jacket again. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, Leonard,” she said, “but I think I must go and fetch father + now. You can walk with me there, if you will. It has been very good to see + you again. For the rest I don't know what to say to you. Do you think that + it is quite what you were meant for—to build boats?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't seem to have any other ambition,” he answered, wearily. “When I + read in the paper this morning that you and your father were here, things + seemed suddenly different. I came at once. I didn't know what I wanted + until I saw you, but I know now, and it isn't any good.” + </p> + <p> + “No good at all,” she declared cheerfully. “It won't be very long, + Leonard, before something else comes along to stir you. I don't think you + were meant to build boats all your life.” + </p> + <p> + He rose and took up his hat. She was waiting for him at the door. Again + they passed down the narrow street. + </p> + <p> + “Tell, me, Beatrice,” he begged, “is it because you don't like me well + enough that you won't listen to what I ask?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment she half closed her eyes as though in pain. Then she laughed, + not perhaps very naturally. They were standing now by the door of the + public house. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she said, “you are very young in years but you are a baby in + experience. Mind, there are other reasons why I could not—would not + dream of marrying you, other reasons which are absolutely sufficient, but—do + you know that you have asked me twice and you have never once said that + you cared, that you have never once looked as though you cared? No, don't, + please,” she interrupted, “don't explain anything. You see, a woman always + knows—too well, sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, and passed in through the swinging-doors. Standing out there + in the narrow, crooked street, Tavernake heard the clapping and applause + which greeted her entrance, he heard her father's voice. Some one struck a + note at the piano—she was going to sing. Very slowly he turned away + and walked down the cobbled hill. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. PRITCHARD'S GOOD NEWS + </h2> + <p> + Late in the afternoon of the following day, Ruth came home from the + village and found Tavernake hard at work on his boat. She put down her + basket and stopped by his side. + </p> + <p> + “So you are back again,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am back again.” + </p> + <p> + “And nothing has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing has happened,” he assented, wearily. “Nothing ever will happen + now.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you will stay here and build boats all your life?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I mean to do,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Don't believe it, Leonard,” she said. “There is other work for you in the + world somewhere, just as there is for me.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head and she picked up her basket again, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Your time will come as it comes to the rest of us,” she declared, + cheerfully. “You won't want to sit here and bury your talents in the sands + all your days. Have you heard what is going to happen to me?” + </p> + <p> + “No! Something good, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “My father's favorite niece is coming to live with us—there are + seven of them altogether, and farming doesn't pay like it used to, so + Margaret is coming here. Father says that if she is as handy as she used + to be I may go back to the schools almost at once.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was silent for a moment. Then he got up and threw down his + tools. + </p> + <p> + “Great Heavens!” he exclaimed. “If I am not becoming the most selfish + brute that ever breathed! Do you know, the first thought I had was that I + should miss you? You are right, young woman, I must get out of this.” + </p> + <p> + She disappeared into the house, smiling, and Tavernake called out to + Nicholls, who was sitting on the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Nicholls,” he asked, “how much notice do you want?” + </p> + <p> + Matthew Nicholls removed his pipe from his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know that I'm particular,” he replied, “being as you want to + go. Between you and me, I'm gettin' fat and lazy since you came. There + ain't enough work for two, and that's all there is to it, and being as + you're young and active, why, I've left it to you, and look at my arms.” + </p> + <p> + He held them up. + </p> + <p> + “Used to be all muscle, now they're nothin' but bloomin' pap. And no' but + two glasses of beer a day extra have I drunk, just to pass the time. You + can stay if you will, young man, but you can go out fishin' and leave me + the work, and I'll pay you just the same, for I'm not saying that I don't + like your company. Or you can go when you please, and that's the end of + it.” + </p> + <p> + Matthew Nicholls spat upon the stones and replaced his pipe in his mouth. + Tavernake came in and sat down by his side. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “I believe you are right. I'll stay another week but + I'll take things easy. You get on with the boat now. I'll sit here and + have a smoke.” + </p> + <p> + Nicholls grunted but obeyed, and for the next few days Tavernake loafed. + On his return one afternoon from a long walk, he saw a familiar figure + sitting upon the sea wall in front of the workshop, a familiar figure but + a strange one in these parts. It was Mr. Pritchard, in an American felt + hat, and smoking a very black cigar. He leaned over and nodded to + Tavernake, who was staring at him aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, old man!” he called out. “Run you to earth, you see!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see!” Tavernake exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Come right along up here and let's talk,” Pritchard continued. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake obeyed. Pritchard looked him over approvingly. Tavernake was + roughly dressed in those days, but as a man he had certainly developed. + </p> + <p> + “Say, you're looking fine,” his visitor remarked. “What wouldn't I give + for that color and those shoulders!” + </p> + <p> + “It is a healthy life,” Tavernake admitted. “Do you mean that you've come + down here to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” Pritchard announced; “down here to see you, and for no other + reason. Not but that the scenery isn't all it should be, and that sort of + thing,” he went on, “but I am not putting up any bluff about it. It's you + I am here to talk to. Are you ready? Shall I go straight ahead?” + </p> + <p> + “If you please,” Tavernake said, slowly filling his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “You dropped out of things pretty sudden,” Pritchard continued. “It didn't + take me much guessing to reckon up why. Between you and me, you are not + the first man who's been up against it on account of that young woman. + Don't stop me,” he begged. “I know how you've been feeling. It was a right + good idea of yours to come here. Others before you have tried the shady + side of New York and Paris, and it's the wrong treatment. It's Hell, + that's what it is, for them. Now that young woman—we got to speak of + her—is about the most beautiful and the most fascinating of her sex—I'll + grant that to start with—but she isn't worth the life of a snail, + much less the life of a strong man.” + </p> + <p> + “You are, quite right,” Tavernake confessed, shortly. “I know I was a fool—a + fool! If I could think of any adjective that would meet the case, I'd use + it, but there it is. I chucked things and I came here. You haven't come + down to tell me your opinion of me, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Not by any manner of means,” Pritchard admitted. “I came down first to + tell you that you were a fool, if it was necessary. Since you know it, it + isn't. We'll pass on to the next stage, and that is, what are you going to + do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is in my mind at the present moment,” Tavernake announced, “to leave + here. The only trouble is, I am not very keen about London.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard nodded thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” he agreed. “London's no place for a man, anyway. You + don't want to learn the usual tricks of money-making. Money that's made in + the cities is mostly made with stained fingers. I have a different sort of + proposal to make.” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead,” Tavernake said. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “A new country,” Pritchard declared, altering the angle of his cigar, “a + virgin land, mountains and valleys, great rivers to be crossed, all sorts + of cold and heat to be borne with, a land rich with minerals—some + say gold, but never mind that. There is oil in parts, there's tin, there's + coal, and there's thousands and thousands of miles of forest. You're a + surveyor?” + </p> + <p> + “Passed all my exams,” Tavernake agreed tersely. + </p> + <p> + “You are the man for out yonder,” Pritchard insisted. “I've two years' + vacation—dead sick of this city life I am—and I am going to + put you on the track of it. You don't know much about prospecting yet, I + reckon?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all!” + </p> + <p> + “You soon shall,” Pritchard went on. “We'll start from Winnipeg. A few + horses, some guides, and a couple of tents. We'll spend twenty weeks, my + friend, without seeing a town. What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Gorgeous!” Tavernake muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty weeks we'll strike westward. I know the way to set about the whole + job. I know one or two of the capitalists, too, and if we don't map out + some of the grandest estates in British Columbia, why, my name ain't + Pritchard.” + </p> + <p> + “But I haven't a penny in the world,” Tavernake objected. + </p> + <p> + “That's where you're lying,” Pritchard remarked, pulling a newspaper from + his pocket. “See the advertisement for yourself: 'Leonard Tavernake, + something to his advantage.' Well, down I went to those lawyers—your + old lawyer it was—Martin. I told him I was on your track, and he + said—'For Heaven's sake, send the fellow along!' Say, Tavernake, he + made me laugh the way he described your bursting in upon him and telling + him to take your land for his costs, and walking out of the room like + something almighty. Why, he worked that thing so that they had to buy your + land, and they took him into partnership. He's made a pot of money, and + needs no costs from you, and there's the money for your land and what he + had of yours besides, waiting for you.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake smoked stolidly at his pipe. His eyes were out seaward, but his + heart was beating to a new and splendid music. To start life again, a + man's life, out in the solitudes, out in the great open spaces! It was + gorgeous, this! He turned round and grasped Pritchard by the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” he exclaimed, “why are you doing all this for me, Pritchard?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You did me a good turn,” he said, “and you're a man. You've the pluck—that's + what I like. You knew nothing, you were as green and ignorant as a young + man from behind the counter of a country shop, but, my God! you'd got the + right stuff, and I meant getting even with you if I could. You'll leave + here with me to-morrow, and in three weeks we sail.” + </p> + <p> + Ruth came smiling out from the house. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you bring your friend in to supper, Mr. Tavernake?” she begged. + “It's good news, I hope?” she added, lowering her voice a little. + </p> + <p> + “It's the best,” Tavernake declared, “the best!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. BEATRICE REFUSES + </h2> + <p> + A week later Tavernake was in London. A visit to his friend Mr. Martin had + easily proved the truth of Pritchard's words, and he found himself in + possession of a sum of money at least twice as great as he had + anticipated. He stayed at a cheap hotel in the Strand and made purchases + under Pritchard's supervision. For the first few days he was too busy for + reflection. Then Pritchard let him alone while he ran over to Paris, and + Tavernake suddenly realized that he was in the city to which he had + thought never to return. He passed the back of the theatre where he had + waited for Beatrice, he looked up at the entrance of the Milan Court; he + lunched alone, and with a curious mixture of feelings, at the little + restaurant where he had supped with Beatrice. It was over, that part of + his life, over and finished. Yet, with his natural truthfulness, he never + attempted to disguise from himself the pain at his heart. Three times in + one day he found himself, under some pretext or another, in Imano's + Restaurant. Once, in the middle of the street, he burst into a fit of + laughter. It was while Pritchard was in London, and he asked him a + question. + </p> + <p> + “Pritchard,” he remarked, “you area man of experience. Did any one ever + care for two women at the same time?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard removed his cigar from his teeth and stared at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Why, my young friend,” he replied, “I've found no trouble myself in being + fond of a dozen.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake smiled and said no more. Pritchard was one of the good fellows + of the world, but there were things which were hidden from him. Yet + Tavernake, who had fallen into a habit, during his solitude, of analyzing + his sensations, was puzzled by this one circumstance, that when he thought + of Elizabeth, though his heart never failed to beat more quickly, the + sense of shame generally stole over him; and when he thought of Beatrice, + a curious loneliness, a loneliness that brought with it a pain, seemed + suddenly to make the hours drag and his pleasures flavorless. For two days + he was puzzled. Then his habit of taking long walks helped him toward a + solution. In a small outlying music-hall in the east-end of London, he saw + the same announcement that he had noticed in the Norfolk newspaper,—“Professor + Franklin” in large type, and “Miss Beatrice Franklin” in small. + </p> + <p> + That night he attended the music-hall. The scene was practically a + repetition of the one in Norwich, only with additions. The professor's + bombastic performance met with scarcely any applause. Its termination was, + indeed, interrupted by catcalls and whistles from the gallery. Beatrice's + songs, on the other hand, were applauded more vociferously than ever. She + had hard work to avoid a third encore. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the performance, Tavernake made his way to the stage-door + and waited. The neighborhood was an unsavory one, and the building itself + seemed crowded in among a row of shops of the worst order, fish stalls, + and a glaring gin palace. Long before Beatrice came out, Tavernake could + hear the professor's voice down the covered passage, the professor's voice + apparently raised in anger. + </p> + <p> + “Undutiful behavior, that's what I call it—undutiful!” + </p> + <p> + They emerged into the street, the professor very much the same as usual; + Beatrice paler, with a pathetic droop about her mouth. Tavernake came + eagerly forward. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice!” he cried, holding out his hand. + </p> + <p> + The professor drew back. Beatrice stood still,—for a moment it + seemed as though she were about to faint. Tavernake grasped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I am so sorry!” he exclaimed, clumsily. “I ought not to have come up like + that.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled a little wan smile. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite all right,” she replied, “only the heat inside was rather + trying, and even out here the atmosphere isn't too good, is it? How did + you find us out?” + </p> + <p> + “By chance again,” Tavernake answered. “I have news. May I walk with you a + few steps?” + </p> + <p> + She glanced timidly toward her father. The professor was holding aloof in + dignified silence. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” Tavernake said quickly, “you would take supper with me? I am + going abroad, and I should like to say good-bye properly. A bottle of + champagne and some supper. What do you say, Professor?” + </p> + <p> + The professor suffered his features to relax. + </p> + <p> + “A very admirable idea,” he declared. “Where shall we go?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it too late to get to Imano's?” Tavernake suggested. + </p> + <p> + The professor hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “A taxicab,” he remarked, “would do it, if—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and Tavernake smiled. + </p> + <p> + “A taxicab it shall be,” he decided. “I am in funds just for the moment. + Come along, both of you, and I'll tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + He made her take his arm, although her fingers did no more than touch his + coat sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Pritchard came and dug me out,” he continued. “I am going abroad with + him. It's sort of prospecting in some new country at the back of British + Columbia. We see what we can find and then go to a financier's and start + companies, mining companies and oil fields—anything. I am off in a + week.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice half closed her eyes. They had hailed a passing cab and she sank + back among the cushions with a sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Leonard,” she murmured, “I am so glad, so very happy for your sake. + This is the sort of thing which I hoped would happen.” + </p> + <p> + “And now tell me about yourselves,” he went on. + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden silence. Tavernake was conscious that Beatrice's + clothes were distinctly shabbier, that the professor's hat was shiny. The + professor cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “I do not wish,” he said, “to intrude our private matters upon one who, + although I will not call him a stranger, is assuredly not one of our old + friends. At the same time, I admit that a little trouble has arisen + between Beatrice and myself, and we were discussing it at the moment you + arrived. I shall appeal to you now. As an unprejudiced member of the + audience to-night, Mr. Tavernake, you will give me your honest opinion?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” Tavernake promised, with a sinking premonition of what was to + come. + </p> + <p> + “What I complain of,” the professor began, speaking with elaborate and + impressive slowness, “is that my performance is hurried over and that too + long a time is taken up by Beatrice's songs. The management remark upon + the applause which her efforts occasionally ensure, but, as I would point + out to you, sir,” he continued, “a performance such as mine makes too deep + an impression for the audience to show their appreciation of it by such + vulgar methods as hand-clapping and whistling. You follow me, I trust, Mr. + Tavernake?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, of course,” Tavernake admitted. + </p> + <p> + “I take a sincere and earnest interest in my work,” the professor + declared, “and I feel that when it has to be scamped that my daughter may + sing a music-hall ditty, the result is, to say the least of it, + undignified. For some reason or other, I have been unable to induce the + management to see entirely with me, but my point is that Beatrice should + sing one song only, and that the additional ten minutes should be occupied + by me in either a further exposition of my extraordinary powers as a + hypnotist, or in a little address to the audience upon the hidden + sciences. Now I appeal to you, Mr. Tavernake, as a young man of common + sense. What is your opinion?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake, much too honest to be capable in a general way of duplicity, + was on the point of giving it, but he caught Beatrice's imploring gaze. + Her lips were moving. He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he began, slowly, “you have to try and put yourself into the + position of the major part of the audience, who are exceedingly uneducated + people. It is very hard to give an opinion, Professor. I must say that + your entertainment this evening was listened to with rapt interest.” + </p> + <p> + The professor turned solemnly towards his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “You hear that, Beatrice?” he said severely. “You hear what Mr. Tavernake + says? 'With rapt interest!'” + </p> + <p> + “At the same time,” Tavernake went on, “without a doubt Miss Beatrice's + songs were also extremely popular. It is rather a pity that the management + could not give you a little more time.” + </p> + <p> + “Failing that, sir,” the professor declared, “my point is, as I explained + before, that Beatrice should give up one of her songs. What you have said + this evening more than ever confirms me in my view.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice smiled thankfully at Tavernake. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she suggested, “at any rate we will leave it for the present. + Sometimes I think, though, father, that you frighten them with some of + your work, and you must remember that they come to be amused.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” the professor admitted, “is the most sensible remark you have + made, Beatrice. There is indeed something terrifying in some of my + manifestations, terrifying even to myself, who understand so thoroughly my + subject. However, as you say, we will dismiss the matter for the present. + The thought of this supper party is a pleasant one. Do you remember, Mr. + Tavernake, the night when you and I met in the balcony at Imano's?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly well,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + “Now I shall test your memory,” the professor continued, with a knowing + smile. “Can you remember, sir, the brand of champagne which I was then + drinking, and which I declared, if you recollect, was the one which best + agreed with me, the one brand worth drinking?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I don't remember that,” Tavernake confessed. “Restaurant life + is a thing I know so little of, and I have only drunk champagne once or + twice in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear me!” the professor exclaimed. “You do astonish me, sir. Well, + that brand was Veuve Clicquot, and you may take my word for it, Mr. + Tavernake, and you may find this knowledge useful to you when you have + made a fortune in America and have become a man of pleasure; there is no + wine equal to it. Veuve Clicquot, sir, if possible of the year 1899, + though the year 1900 is quite drinkable.” + </p> + <p> + “Veuve Clicquot,” Tavernake repeated. “I'll remember it for this evening.” + </p> + <p> + The professor beamed. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he said to Beatrice, “Mr. Tavernake will think that I had a + purpose in testing his memory.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice smiled. + </p> + <p> + “And hadn't you, father?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + They all laughed together. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is pleasant,” the professor admitted, “to have one's weaknesses + ministered to, especially when one is getting on in life,” he added, with + a ponderous sigh. “Never mind, we will think only of pleasant subjects + this evening. It will be quite interesting, Mr. Tavernake, to hear you + order the supper.” + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't attempt it,” Tavernake answered. “I shall pass it on to you.” + </p> + <p> + “This reminds me,” the professor declared, “of the old days. I feel sure + that this is going to be a thoroughly enjoyable evening. We shall think of + it often, Mr. Tavernake, when you lie sleeping under the stars. Why, what + a wonderful thing these taxicabs are! You see, we have arrived.” + </p> + <p> + They secured a small table in a corner at Imano's, and Tavernake found + himself curiously moved as he watched Beatrice take off her worn and much + mended gloves and look around uneasily at the other guests. Her clothes + were indeed shabby, and there were hollows now in her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Again he felt that pain, a pain for which he could not account. Suddenly + America seemed so far away, the loneliness of the great continent became + an actual and appreciable thing. The professor was very much occupied + ordering the supper. Tavernake leaned across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember our first supper here, Beatrice?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She nodded, with an attempt at brightness which was a little pitiful. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, “I remember it quite well. And now, please, Leonard, + don't talk to me again until I have had a glass of wine. I am tired and + worn out, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + Even Tavernake knew that she was struggling against the tears which + already dimmed her eyes. He filled her glass himself. The professor set + his own down empty with the satisfied smile of a connoisseur. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” he said, “that you will agree with me about this vintage. + Beatrice, this is what will bring color into your cheeks. My little girl,” + he continued, turning to Tavernake, “will soon need a holiday. I am hoping + presently to be able to arrange a short tour by myself, and if so, I shall + send her to the seaside. Now I want you particularly to try the fish salad—the + second dish there. Beatrice, let me help you.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the orchestra began to play. The warmth of the room, the wine + and the food—Tavernake had a horrible idea once that she had eaten + nothing that day—brought back some of the color to Beatrice's cheeks + and a little of the light to her eyes. She began to talk something in the + old fashion. She avoided, however, any mention of that other supper they + had had together. As time went on, the professor, who had drunk the best + part of two bottles of wine and was talking now to a friend, became almost + negligible. Tavernake leaned across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he whispered, “you are not looking well. I am afraid that life + is getting harder with you.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I am doing what I must,” she answered. “Please don't sympathize with me. + I am hysterical, I think, tonight. It will pass off.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Beatrice,” he ventured, timidly, “could one do nothing for you? I + don't like these performances, and between you and me, we know they won't + stand your father's show much longer. It will certainly come to an end + soon. Why don't you try and get back your place at the theatre? You could + still earn enough to keep him.” + </p> + <p> + “Already I have tried,” she replied, sorrowfully. “My place is filled up. + You see,” she added, with a forced laugh, “I have lost some of my looks, + Leonard. I am thinner, too. Of course, I shall be all right presently, but + it's rather against me at these west-end places.” + </p> + <p> + Again he felt that pain at his heart. He was sure now that he was + beginning to understand! + </p> + <p> + “Beatrice,” he whispered, “give it up—marry me I will take care of + him.” + </p> + <p> + The flush of color faded from her cheeks. She shivered a little and looked + at him piteously. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she pleaded, “you mustn't. I really am not very strong just + now. We have finished with all that—it distresses me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I mean it,” he begged. “Somehow, I have felt all sorts of things + since we came in here. I think of that night, and I believe—I do + believe that what came to me before was madness. It was not the same.” + </p> + <p> + She was trembling now. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she implored, “if you care for me at all, be quiet. Father will + turn round directly and I can't bear it. I shall be your very faithful + friend; I shall think of you through the long days before we meet again, + but don't—don't spoil this last evening.” + </p> + <p> + The professor turned round, his face mottled, his eyes moist, a great + good-humor apparent in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I must say,” he declared, “that this has been a most delightful + evening. I feel immensely better, and you, too, I hope, Beatrice?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I trust that when Mr. Tavernake returns,” the professor continued, “he + will give us the opportunity of entertaining him in much the same manner. + It will give me very much pleasure, also Beatrice. And if, sir,” he + proceeded, “during your stay in New York you will mention my name at the + Goat's Club, or the Mosquito Club, you will, I think, find yourself + received with a hospitality which will surprise you.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake thanked him and paid the bill. They walked slowly down the room, + and Tavernake was curiously reluctant to release the little hand which + clasped his. + </p> + <p> + “I have kept this to the last,” Beatrice said, in a low tone. “Elizabeth + is in London.” + </p> + <p> + He was curiously unmoved. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “I should like you—I think it would be well for you to go and see + her,” she went on. “You know, Leonard, you were such a strange person in + those days. You may imagine things. You may not realize where you are. I + think that you ought to go and see her now, now that you have lived + through some suffering, now that you understand things better. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will go,” Tavernake promised. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice glanced round towards where her father was standing. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want him to know,” she whispered. “I don't want either him or + myself to be tempted to take any of her money. She is living at Claridge's + Hotel. Go there and see her before you leave for your new life.” + </p> + <p> + He stood at the door and watched them go down the Strand, the professor, + flamboyant, walking erect with flying coat-tails, and his big cigar held + firmly between his teeth; Beatrice, a wan figure in her black clothes, + clinging to his arm. Tavernake watched them until they disappeared, + conscious of a curious excitement, a strange pain, a sense of revelation. + When at last they were out of sight and he turned back for his coat and + hat, his feet were suddenly leaden. The band was playing the last + selection—it was the air which Beatrice had sung only that night at + the east-end music-hall. With a sudden overpowering impulse he turned and + strode down the Strand in the direction where they had vanished. It was + too late. There was no sign of them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. UNDERSTANDING COMES TOO LATE + </h2> + <p> + Tavernake's first impression of Elizabeth was that he had never, even in + his wildest thoughts, done her justice. He had never imagined her so + wonderfully, so alluringly beautiful. She had received him, after a very + long delay, in her sitting-room at Claridge's Hotel—a large + apartment furnished more like a drawing-room. She was standing, when he + entered, almost in the center of the room, dressed in a long lace cloak + and a hat with a drooping black feather. She looked at him, as the door + opened, as though for a moment half puzzled. Then she laughed softly and + held out her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course I remember you!” she exclaimed. “And to think that when I + had your card I couldn't imagine where I had heard the name before! You + are my dear estate agent's clerk, who wouldn't take my money, and who was + so wretchedly rude to me twelve months ago.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake was quite cool. He found himself wondering whether this was a + pose, or whether she had indeed forgotten. He decided that it was a pose. + </p> + <p> + “I was also,” he reminded her, “one night in your rooms at the Milan Court + when your husband—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped him with an imperative gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Spare me, please,” she begged. “Those were such terrible days—so + dull, too! I remember that you were quite one of the brightest spots. You + were absolutely different from every one I had ever met before, and you + interested me immensely.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him and slowly shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “You look very nice,” she said. “Your clothes fit you and you are most + becomingly tanned, but you don't look half so awkward and so adorable.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he replied, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “And you came to see me!” she went on. “That was really nice of you. You + were quite fond of me, once, you know. Tell me, has it lasted?” + </p> + <p> + “That is exactly what I came to find out,” he answered deliberately. “So + far, I am inclined to think that it has not lasted.” + </p> + <p> + She made a little wry face and drew his arm through hers. + </p> + <p> + “Come and sit down and tell me why,” she insisted. “Be honest, now. Is it + because you think I am looking older?” + </p> + <p> + “I have thought of you for many hours a day for months,” Tavernake said, + slowly, “and I never imagined you so beautiful as you seem now.” + </p> + <p> + She clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “And you mean it, too!” she exclaimed. “There is just the same + delightfully convincing note in your tone. I am sure that you mean it. + Please go on adoring me, Mr. Tavernake. I have no one who interests me at + all just now. There is an Italian Count who wants to marry me, but he is + terribly poor; and a young Australian, who follows me everywhere, but I am + not sure about him. There is an English boy, too, who is going to commit + suicide if I don't say 'yes' to him this week. On the whole, I think I am + rather sorry that people know I am a widow. Tell me, Mr. Tavernake, are + you going to adore me, too?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think so,” Tavernake answered. “I rather believe that I am + cured.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders and laughed musically. + </p> + <p> + “But you say that you still think I am beautiful,” she went on, “and I am + sure my clothes are perfect—they came straight from Paris. I hope + you appreciate this lace,” she added, drawing it through her fingers. “My + figure is just as good, too, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + She stood up and turned slowly round. Then she sat down suddenly, taking + his hand in hers. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't say that you think I have grown less attractive,” she + begged. + </p> + <p> + “As regards your personal attractions,” Tavernake replied, “I imagine that + they are at least as great as ever. If you want the truth, I think that + the reason I do not adore you any longer is because I saw your sister last + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Saw Beatrice!” she exclaimed. “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “She was singing at a miserable east-end music-hall so that her father + might find some sort of employment,” Tavernake said. “The people only + forbore to hiss her father's turn for her sake. She goes about the country + with him. Heaven knows what they earn, but it must be little enough! + Beatrice is shabby and thin and pale. She is devoting the best years of + her life to what she imagines to be her duty.” + </p> + <p> + “And how does this affect me?” Elizabeth asked, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Only in this way,” Tavernake answered. “You asked me how it was that I + could find you as beautiful as ever and adore you no longer. The reason is + because I know you to be wretchedly selfish. I believed in you before. + Everything that you did seemed right. That was because I was a fool, + because you had filled my brain with impossible fancies, because I saw you + and everything that you did through a distorted mirror.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you come here to be rude?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least,” he replied. “I came here to see whether I was cured.” + </p> + <p> + She began to laugh, very softly at first, but soon she threw herself back + among the cushions and laid her hand caressingly upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are just the same!” she cried. “Just the same dear, truthful + bundle of honesty and awkwardness and ignorance. So you are going to be + victim of Beatrice's bow and spear, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “I have asked your sister to marry me,” Tavernake admitted. “She will + not.” + </p> + <p> + “She was very wise,” Elizabeth declared, wiping the tears from her eyes. + “As an experience you are delightful. As a husband you would be terribly + impossible. Are you going to stay and take me out to dinner this evening? + I'm sure you have a dress suit now.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” he said. “I have already an engagement.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him curiously. Was it really true that he had become + indifferent? She was not used to men who escaped. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she asked, abruptly, “why did you come? I don't understand. You + are here, and you pass your time being rude to me. I ask you to take me to + dinner and you refuse. Do you know that scarcely a man in London would not + have jumped at such a chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely,” Tavernake answered. “I have no experience in such matters. + I only know that I am going to do something else.” + </p> + <p> + “Something you want to do very much?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “I am going down to a little music-hall in Whitechapel,” Tavernake said, + “and I am going to meet your sister and I am going to put her in a cab and + take her to have some supper, and I am going to worry her until she + promises to be my wife.” + </p> + <p> + “You are certainly a devoted admirer of the family,” she laughed. “Perhaps + you were in love with her all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I was,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it,” she said. “I think you were quite fond of me once. + You have such absurdly old-fashioned ideas or I think that you would be + fond of me now.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake rose to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “I am going,” he declared. “This will be good-bye. To-morrow I am going to + British Columbia.” + </p> + <p> + The laughter faded for a moment from her face. She was suddenly serious. + </p> + <p> + “Don't go,” she begged. “Listen. I know I am not good like Beatrice, but I + do like you—I always did. I suppose it is that wonderful + truthfulness of yours. You are a different type from the men one meets. I + am rather a reckless person. It is such a comfort sometimes to meet any + one like you. You seem such an anchorage. Stay and talk to me for a little + time. Take me out to-night. You asked me to go with you once, you know, + and I would not. To-night it is I who ask you.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head slowly. + </p> + <p> + “This is good-bye!” he said, firmly. “I suppose, after all, you were not + unkind to me in those days, but you taught me a very bitter lesson. I came + to you to-day in fear and trembling. I was afraid, perhaps, that the worst + was not over, that there was more yet to come. Now I know that I am free.” + </p> + <p> + She stamped her foot. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not go away like that,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + He smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I do not understand?” he continued. “It is only because I am + able to go, because the touch of your fingers, that look in your eyes, do + not drive me half mad now, that you want me to stay. You would like to try + your powers once more. I think not. I am satisfied that I am cured indeed, + but perhaps it is safer to risk nothing.” + </p> + <p> + She pointed to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then,” she ordered, “you can go.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed, and already his fingers were on the handle. Suddenly she called + to him. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard! Leonard!” + </p> + <p> + He turned round. She was coming towards him with her arms outstretched, + her eyes were full of tears, there were sobs in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “I am so lonely,” she begged. “I have thought of you so much. Don't go + away unkindly. Stay with me for this evening, at any rate. You can see + Beatrice at any time. It is I who need you most now.” + </p> + <p> + He looked around at the splendid apartment; he looked at the woman whose + fingers, glittering with jewels, rested upon his shoulders. Then he + thought of Beatrice in her shabby black gown and wan little face, and very + gently he removed her hands. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “I do not think that you need me any more than I need you. + This is a caprice of yours. You know it and I know it. Is it worth while + to play with one another?” + </p> + <p> + Her hands fell to her sides. She turned half away but she said nothing. + Tavernake, with a sudden impulse which had in it nothing of passion—very + little, indeed, of affection—lifted her fingers to his lips and + passed out of the room. He descended the stairs, filled with a wonderful + sense of elation, a buoyancy of spirit which he could not understand. As + he walked blithely to his hotel, however, he began to realize how much he + had dreaded this interview. He was a free man, after all. The spell was + broken. He could think of her now as she deserved to be thought of, as a + consummate woman of the world, selfish, heartless, conscienceless. He was + well out of her toils. It was nothing to him if even he had known that at + that moment she was lying upon the sofa to which she had staggered as he + left the room, weeping bitterly. + </p> + <p> + For over an hour Tavernake endured the smells and the bad atmosphere of + that miserable little music-hall, watching eagerly each time the numbers + were changed. Then at last, towards the end of the program, the manager + appeared in front. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “I regret very much to inform you + that owing to the indisposition of the young lady, Miss Beatrice Franklin + and her father are unable to appear to-night. I have pleasure in + announcing an extra turn, namely the Sisters De Vere in their wonderful + burlesque act.” + </p> + <p> + There was a murmur of disapprobation mingled with some cheering. Tavernake + left his place and walked around to the back of the hall. Presently the + manager came out to him. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to trouble you, sir,” Tavernake said, “but I heard your + announcement just now from the front. Can you give me the address of + Professor Franklin? I am a friend, and I should like to go and see them.” + </p> + <p> + The manager pointed to the stage-doorkeeper. + </p> + <p> + “This man will give it you,” he announced, shortly. “It's quite close. I + shall look in myself after the show to know how the young lady is.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake procured the address and set out in the taxicab which he had + kept waiting. The driver listened to the direction doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “It's a poor sort of neighborhood, sir,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “We've got to go there,” Tavernake told him. + </p> + <p> + They reached it in a few minutes, a miserable street indeed. Tavernake + knocked at the door of the house to which he was directed, with sinking + heart. A man, collarless and half dressed, in carpet slippers, opened the + door after a few moments' waiting. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it?” he asked, gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “Is Professor Franklin here?” Tavernake inquired. + </p> + <p> + The man seemed as though he were about to slam the door, but thought + better of it. + </p> + <p> + “If you're a friend of the professor's, as he calls himself,” he said, + “and you've any money to shell out, why, you're welcome, but if you're + only asking out of curiosity, let me tell you that he used to lodge here + but he's gone, and if I'd had my way he'd have gone a week ago, him and + his daughter, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand,” Tavernake protested. “I thought the young lady was + ill.” + </p> + <p> + “She may be ill or she may not,” the man replied, sulkily. “All I know is + that they couldn't pay their rent, couldn't pay their food bill, couldn't + pay for the drinks the old man was always sending out for. So tonight I + spoke up and they've gone.” + </p> + <p> + “At least you know where to!” Tavernake exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't no sort of an idea,” the man declared. “Take my word for it + straight, guvnor, I know no more about where they went to than the man in + the moon, except that I'm well shut of them, and there's a matter of + eighteen and sixpence, if you care to pay it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll give you a sovereign,” Tavernake promised, “if you will tell me + where they are now.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the good of making silly conditions like that!” the man grumbled. + “If I knew where they were, I'd earn the quid soon enough, but I don't, + and that's the long and the short of it! And if you ain't going to pay the + eighteen and six, well, I've answered all the questions I feel inclined + to.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll make it two pounds,” Tavernake promised. “I'm going to sail for + America to-morrow morning early, and I must see them first.” + </p> + <p> + The man leaned forward. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, “if I knew where they was, a quid would be quite + good enough for me, but I don't, and that's straight. If you want to look + for them, I should try one of the doss houses. As likely there as + anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + He slammed the door and Tavernake turned away. A sudden despair had seized + him. He looked up and down the street, he looked away beyond and thought + of the miles and miles of streets, the myriads of chimneys, the huge + branches of the great city stretching far and wide. At eight o'clock the + next morning, he must leave for Southampton. Was it too late, after all, + that he had discovered the truth? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. IN A VIRGIN COUNTRY + </h2> + <p> + One night Tavernake began to laugh. He had grown a long brown beard and + the hair was over his ears. He was wearing a gray flannel shirt, a + handkerchief tied around his neck, and a pair of worn riding breeches held + up by a belt. He had kicked his boots off at the end of a long day, and + was lying in the moonlight before a fire of pine logs, whose smoke went + straight to the star-hung sky. No word had been spoken for the last hour. + Tavernake's fit of mirth came with as little apparent reason as the puffs + of wind which every now and then stole down from the mountain side and + made faint music in the virgin forests. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard turned over on his side and looked at him. Cigars had for many + weeks been an unknown thing, and he was smoking a corn-cob pipe full of + coarse tobacco. + </p> + <p> + “Stumbled across a joke anywhere?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid no one but myself would see the humor of it,” Tavernake + answered. “I was thinking of those days in London; I was thinking of + Beatrice's horror when she discovered that I was wearing ready-made + clothes, and the amazement of Elizabeth when she found that I hadn't a + dress suit. It's odd how cramped life gets back there.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard nodded, pressing the tobacco down into the bowl of his pipe with + his forefinger. + </p> + <p> + “You're right, Tavernake,” he agreed. “One loses one's sense of + proportion. Men in the cities are all alike. They go about in disguise.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like,” Tavernake said, inconsequently, “to have Mr. Dowling out + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Amusing fellow?” Pritchard inquired. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least,” he answered, “only he was a very small man. Out here + it is difficult to keep small. Don't you feel it, Pritchard? These + mountains make our hills at home seem like dust-heaps. The skies seem + loftier. Look down into that valley. It's gigantic, immense.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard yawned. + </p> + <p> + “There's a little place in the Bowery,” he began,— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't want to know any more about New York,” Tavernake interrupted. + “Lean back and close your eyes, smell the cinnamon trees, listen to that + night bird calling every now and then across the ravine. There's + blackness, if you like; there's depth. It's like a cloak of velvet to look + into. But you can't see the bottom—no, not in the daytime. Listen!” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard sat up. For a few moments neither spoke. A dozen yards or so + off, a scattered group—the rest of the party—were playing + cards around a fire. The green wood crackled, an occasional murmur of + voices, a laugh or an exclamation, came to their ears, but for the rest, + an immense, a wonderful silence, a silence which seemed to spread far away + over that weird, half-invisible world! Tavernake listened reverently. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it marvelous!” he exclaimed. “We haven't seen a human being except + our own party, for three days. There probably isn't one within hearing of + us now. Very likely no living person has ever set foot in this precise + spot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's big,” Pritchard admitted, “it's big and it's restful, but it + isn't satisfying. It does for you for a time because you started life + wrong and you needed a reaction. But for me—ah, well!” he added, “I + hear the call right across these thousands of miles of forests and valley + and swamp. I hear the electric cars and the clash of the overhead railway, + I see the flaring lights of Broadway and I hear the babel of tongues. I am + going back to it, Tavernake. There's plenty to go on with. We've done more + than carry out our program.” + </p> + <p> + “Back to New York!” Tavernake muttered, disconsolately. + </p> + <p> + “So you're not ready yet?” Pritchard demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, no!” Tavernake answered. “Who would be? What is there in New + York to make up for this?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard was silent for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “one of us must be getting back near civilization. The + syndicate will be expecting to hear from us. Besides, we've reports enough + already. It's time something was decided about that oil country. We've + done some grand work there, Tavernake.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded. He was lying on his side and his eyes were fixed + wistfully southward, over the glimmering moonlit valley, over the great + wilderness of virgin pine woods which hung from the mountains on the other + side, away through the cleft in the hills to the plains beyond, chaotic, a + world unseen. + </p> + <p> + “If you like to go on for a bit,” Pritchard suggested, slowly, “there's no + reason why you shouldn't take McCleod and Richardson with you, and Pete + and half the horses, and strike for the tin country on the other side of + the Yolite Hills. So long as we are here, it's quite worth it, if you can + stick it out.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to go,” he admitted, simply. “I know McCleod is keen about + prospecting further south. You see, most of our finds so far have been + among the oil fields.” + </p> + <p> + “Settled,” Pritchard declared. “To-morrow, then, we part. I'm for the + valley, and I reckon I'll strike the railway to Chicago in a week. Gee + whiz! New York will seem good!” + </p> + <p> + “You think that the syndicate will be satisfied with what we have done so + far?” Tavernake asked. + </p> + <p> + His companion smiled. + </p> + <p> + “If they aren't, they'll be fools. I reckon there's enough oil fields here + for seven companies. There'll be a bit for us, too, Tavernake, I guess. + Don't you want to come back to New York and spend it?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake laughed once more, but this time his laugh was not wholly + natural. + </p> + <p> + “Spend it!” he repeated. “What is there to spend it on? Uncomfortable + clothes, false plays, drinks that are bad for you, food that's half + poisoned, atmosphere that stifles. My God, Pritchard, is there anything in + the world like this! Stretch out your arms, man. Lie on your back, look up + at the stars, let that wind blow over your face. Listen.” + </p> + <p> + They listened, and again they heard nothing, yet again there seemed to be + that peculiar quality about the silence which spoke of the vastness of + space. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard rose to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “New York and the fleshpots for me,” he declared. “Keep in touch, and good + luck old man!” + </p> + <p> + Next day at dawn they parted, and Tavernake, with his three companions, + set his face towards an almost undiscovered tract of land. Their progress + was slow, for they were all the time in a country rich with possibilities. + For weeks they climbed, climbed till they reached the snows and the wind + stung their faces and they shivered in their rugs at night. They came to a + land of sparser vegetation, of fewer and wilder animals, where they heard + the baying of wolves at night, and saw the eyes of strange animals glisten + through the thicket as the flames of their evening fire shot up toward the + sky. Then the long descent began, the long descent to the great plain. Now + their faces were bronzed with a sun ever hotter, ever more powerful. No + longer the snow flakes beat their cheeks. They came slowly down into a + land which seemed to Tavernake like the biblical land of Canaan. Three + times in ten days they had to halt and make a camp, while Tavernake + prepared a geographical survey of likely-looking land. + </p> + <p> + McCleod came up to Tavernake one day with a dull-looking lump in his hand, + glistening in places. + </p> + <p> + “Copper,” he announced, shortly. “It's what I've been looking for all the + time. No end to it. There's something bigger than oil here.” + </p> + <p> + They spent a month in the locality, and every day McCleod became more + enthusiastic. After that it was hard work to keep him from heading + homeward at once. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, sir,” he explained to Tavernake, “there's millions there, + millions between those four stakes of yours. What's the good of more + prospecting? There's enough there in a square acre to pay the expenses of + our expedition a thousand times over. Let's get back and make reports. We + can strike the railway in ten days from here—perhaps sooner.” + </p> + <p> + “You go,” Tavernake said. “Leave me Pete and two of the horses.” + </p> + <p> + The man stared at him in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “What's the good of going on alone?” he asked. “You're not a mining expert + or an oil man. You can't go prospecting by yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it,” Tavernake answered. “It's something in my blood, I + suppose. I am going on. Think! You'll strike that railway and in a month + you will be back in New York. Don't you imagine, when you're there, when + you hear the clatter and turmoil of it, when you see the pale crowds + chivvying one another about to pick the dollars from each other's pockets,—don't + you believe you'll long for these solitudes, the big empty places, great + possibilities, the silence? Think of it, man. What is there beyond those + mountains, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + McCleod sighed. + </p> + <p> + “You're right,” he said. “One may never get so far out again. Our fortunes + will keep, I suppose, and anyhow we ought to strike a telegraph station in + about a fortnight. We'll go right ahead, then.” + </p> + <p> + In ten days they dropped ten thousand feet. They came to a land where + their throats were always dry, where the trees and shrubs seemed like + property affairs from a theatre, where they plunged their heads into every + pool that came to wash their noses and mouths from the red dust that + seemed to choke them up. They found tin and oil and more copper. Then, by + slow stages, they passed on to a land of great grassy plains, of blue + grass, miles and miles of it, and suddenly one day they came to the + telegraph posts, rough pine trees unstripped of their bark, with a few + sagging wires. Tavernake looked at them as Robinson Crusoe might have + looked at Man Friday's footsteps. It was the first sign of human life + which they had seen for months. + </p> + <p> + “It's a real world we are in, after all!” he sighed. “Somehow or other, I + thought—I thought we'd escaped.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. BACK TO CIVILIZATION + </h2> + <p> + Pritchard, trim and neat, a New Yorker from the careful arrangement of his + tie to the tips of his patent boots, gazed with something like amazement + at the man whom he had come to meet at the Grand Central Station. + Tavernake looked, indeed, like some splendid bushman whose life has been + spent in the kingdom of the winds and the sun and the rain. He was inches + broader round the chest, and carried himself with a new freedom. His face + was bronzed right down to the neck. His beard was fullgrown, his clothes + travel-stained and worn. He seemed like a breath of real life in the great + New York depot, surrounded by streams of black-coated, pale-cheeked men. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard laughed softly as he passed his arm through his friend's. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my Briton,” he said, “my primitive man, I have rooms for you in a + hotel close here. A bath and a mint julep, then I'll take you to a + tailor's. What about the big country? It's better than your salt marshes, + eh? Better than your little fishing village? Better than building boats?” + </p> + <p> + “You know it,” Tavernake answered. “I feel as though I'd been drawing in + life for month after month. Have I got to wear boots like yours—patent?” + </p> + <p> + “Got to be done,” Pritchard declared. + </p> + <p> + “And the hat—oh, my Heavens!” Tavernake groaned. “I'll never become + civilized again.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll see,” Pritchard laughed. “Say, Tavernake, it was a great trip of + ours. Everything's turning out marvelously. The oil and the copper are + big, man—big, I tell you. I reckon your five thousand dollars will + be well on the way to half a million. I'm pretty near there myself.” + </p> + <p> + It was not until later on, when he was alone, that Tavernake realized with + how little interest he listened to his companion's talk of their success. + It was so short a time ago since the building up of a fortune had been the + one aim upon which every nerve of his body was centered. Curiously enough, + now he seemed to take it as a matter of course. + </p> + <p> + “On second thoughts, I'll send a tailor round to the hotel,” Pritchard + declared. “I've rooms myself next yours. We can go out and buy boots and + the other things afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + By nightfall, Tavernake's wardrobe was complete. Even Pritchard regarded + him with a certain surprise. He seemed, somehow, to have gained a new + dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Say, but you look great!” he exclaimed. “They won't believe it at the + meeting to-morrow that you are the man who crossed the Yolite Mountains + and swam the Peraneek River. That's a wonderful country you were in, + Tavernake, after you left the tracks.” + </p> + <p> + They were in Broadway, with the roar of the city in their ears, and + Tavernake, lifting his face starwards, suddenly seemed to feel the silence + once more, the perfume of the pine woods, the scent of nature herself, + freed through all these generations of any presence of man. + </p> + <p> + “I'll never keep away from it,” he said, softly. “I'll have to go back.” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled. + </p> + <p> + “When your report's in shape and the dollars are being scooped in, they'll + send you back fast enough—that is, if you still want to go,” he + remarked. “I tell you, Leonard Tavernake, our city men here are out for + the dollars. Over on your side, a man makes a million or so and he's had + enough. One fortune here only seems to whet the appetite of a New Yorker. + By the way,” he added, after a moment's hesitation, “does it interest you + to know that an old friend of yours is in New York?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake's head went round swiftly. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Wenham Gardner.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake set his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, slowly, “I don't know that that interests me.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad of it,” Pritchard went on. “I can tell you I don't think things have + been going extra well with the lady. She's spent most of what she got from + the Gardner family, and she doesn't seem to have had the best of luck with + it, either. I came across her by accident. She is staying at a flashy + hotel, but it's in the wrong quarter—second-rate—quite + second-rate.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder whether we shall see anything of her,” Tavernake remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to?” Pritchard asked. “She'll probably be at Martin's for + lunch, at the Plaza for tea, and Rector's for supper. She's not exactly + the lady to remain hidden, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll avoid those places, then, if you are taking me around,” Tavernake + said. + </p> + <p> + “You're cured, are you?” Pritchard inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am cured,” Tavernake answered, “cured of that and a great many + other things, thanks to you. You found me the right tonic.” + </p> + <p> + “Tonic,” Pritchard repeated, meditatively. “That reminds me. This way for + the best cocktail in New York.”... + </p> + <p> + The night was not to pass, however, without its own especial thrill for + Tavernake. The two men dined together at Delmonico's and went afterwards + to a roof garden, a new form of entertainment for Tavernake, and one which + interested him vastly. They secured one of the outside tables near the + parapets, and below them New York stretched, a flaming phantasmagoria of + lights and crude buildings. Down the broad avenues with their towering + blocks, their street cars striking fire all the time like toys below, the + people streamed like insects away to the Hudson, where the great ferry + boats, ablaze with lights, went screaming across the dark waters. + Tavernake leaned over and forgot. There was so much that was amazing in + this marvelous city for a man who had only just begun to find himself. + </p> + <p> + The orchestra, stationed within a few yards of him, commenced to play a + popular waltz, and Pritchard to talk. Tavernake turned his fascinated eyes + from the prospect below. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” Pritchard said, “you are up against it to-night. Take a + drink of your wine and then brace yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake did as he was told. + </p> + <p> + “What is this danger?” he asked. “What's wrong, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard had no need to answer. As Tavernake set his glass down, his eyes + fell upon the little party who had just taken the table almost next to + theirs. There were Walter Crease, Major Post, two men whom he had never + seen before in his life—heavy of cheek, both, dull-eyed, but dressed + with a rigid observance of the fashion of the city, in short dinner coats + and black ties. And between them was Elizabeth. Tavernake gripped the + sides of his chair and looked. Yes, she had altered. Her eyebrows were a + trifle made up, there was a tinge in her hair which he did not recognize, + a touch of color in her cheeks which he doubted. Yet her figure and her + wonderful presence remained, that art of wearing her clothes as no other + woman could. She was easily the most noticeable-looking of her sex among + all the people there. Tavernake heard the sound of her voice and once more + the thrill came and passed. She was the same Elizabeth. Thank God, he + thought, that he was not the same Tavernake! + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish to go?” Pritchard asked. + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Not I!” he answered. “This place is far too fascinating. Can't we have + some more wine? This is my treat. And, Pritchard, why do you look at me + like that? You are not supposing for a moment that I am capable of making + an ass of myself again?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard smiled in a relieved fashion. + </p> + <p> + “My young friend,” he said, “I have lived in the world so long and seen so + many strange things, especially between men and women, that I am never + surprised at anything. I thought you'd shed your follies as your grip upon + life had tightened, but one is never sure.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have shed the worst of my follies!” he answered. “I only wish—” + </p> + <p> + He never finished his sentence. Elizabeth had suddenly seen him. For a + moment she leaned forward as though to assure herself that she was not + mistaken. Then she half sprang to her feet and sat down again. Her lips + were parted—she was once more bewilderingly beautiful. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Tavernake,” she cried, “come and speak to me at once.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake rose without hesitation, and walked firmly across the few yards + which separated them. She held out both her hands. + </p> + <p> + “This is wonderful!” she exclaimed. “You in New York! And I have wondered + so often what became of you.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It is my first night here,” he said. “For two years I have been + prospecting in the far west.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I saw your name in the papers,” she declared. “It was for the + Manhattan Syndicate, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake nodded, and one of the men of the party leaned forward with + interest. + </p> + <p> + “You're going to make millions and millions,” she assured him. “You always + knew you would, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid that I was almost too confident,” he answered. “But certainly + we have been quite fortunate.” + </p> + <p> + One of Elizabeth's companions intervened—he was the one who had + pricked up his ears at the mention of the Manhattan Syndicate. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Elizabeth,” he remarked, “I'd like to meet your friend.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth, with a frown, performed the introduction. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Anthony Cruxhall—Mr. Tavernake!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cruxhall held out a fat white hand, on the little finger of which + glittered a big diamond ring. + </p> + <p> + “Say, are you the Mr. Tavernake that was surveyor to the prospecting party + sent out by the Manhattan Syndicate?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I was,” Tavernake admitted, briefly. “I still am, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you're just the man I was hoping to meet,” Mr. Cruxhall declared. + “Won't you sit down with us right here? I'd like to talk some about that + trip. I'm interested in the Syndicate.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I've had enough of work for a time,” he said. “Besides, I couldn't talk + about it till after my report to the meeting to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Just a few words,” Mr. Cruxhall persisted. “We'll have a bottle of + champagne, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “You will excuse me, I am sure,” Tavernake replied, “when I tell you that + it would not be correct on my part to discuss my trip until after I have + handed in my report to the company. I am very glad to have seen you again, + Mrs. Gardner.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not going!” she exclaimed, in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “I have left Mr. Pritchard alone,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth smiled, and waved her hand to the solitary figure. + </p> + <p> + “Our friend Mr. Pritchard again,” she remarked. “Well, it is really a + curious meeting, isn't it? I wonder,”—she lifted her head to his and + her eyes called him closer to hers—“have you forgotten everything?” + </p> + <p> + He pointed over the roofs of the houses. His back was to the river and he + pointed westward. + </p> + <p> + “I have been in a country where one forgets,” he answered. “I think that I + have thrown the knapsack of my follies away. I think that it is buried. + There are some things which I do not forget, but they are scarcely to be + spoken of.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a strange young man,” she said. “Was I wrong, or were you not + once in love with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I was terribly in love with you,” Tavernake confessed. + </p> + <p> + “Yet you tore up my cheque and flung yourself away when you found out that + my standard of morals was not quite what you had expected,” she murmured. + “Haven't you got over that quixoticism a little, Leonard?” + </p> + <p> + He drew a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful to say,” he declared, earnestly, “that I have not got over + it, that, if anything, my prejudices are stronger than ever.” + </p> + <p> + She sat for a moment quite still, and her face had become hard and + expressionless. She was looking past him, past the line of lights, out + into the blue darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Somehow,” she said, softly, “I always prayed that you might remember. You + were the one true thing I had ever met, you were in earnest. It is past, + then?” + </p> + <p> + “It is past,” Tavernake answered, bravely. + </p> + <p> + The music of a Hungarian waltz came floating down to them. She half closed + her eyes. Her head moved slowly with the melody. Tavernake looked away. + </p> + <p> + “Will you come and see me just once?” she asked, suddenly. “I am staying + at the Delvedere, in Forty-Second Street.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much,” Tavernake replied. “I do not know how long I shall + be in New York. If I am here for a few days, I shall take my chance at + finding you at home.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed, and returned to Pritchard, who welcomed him with a quiet smile. + </p> + <p> + “You're wise, Tavernake,” he said, softly. “I could hear no words, but I + know that you have been wise. Between you and me,” he added, in a lower + tone, “she is going downhill. She is in with the wrong lot here. She can't + seem to keep away from them. They are on the very fringe of Bohemia, a + great deal nearer the arm of the law than makes for respectable society. + The man to whom I saw you introduced is a millionaire one day and a thief + the next. They're none of them any good. Did you notice, too, that she is + wearing sham jewelry? That always looks bad.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't notice,” Tavernake answered. + </p> + <p> + He was silent for a moment. Then he leaned a little forward. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” he asked, “do you know anything about her sister?” + </p> + <p> + Pritchard finished his wine and knocked the ash from his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” he replied. “I believe she had a very hard time. She took on + the father, you know, the old professor, and did her best to keep him + straight. He died about a year ago and Miss Beatrice tried to get back + into the theatre, but she'd missed her chance. Theatrical business has + been shocking in London. I heard she'd come out here. Wherever she is, she + keeps right away from that sort of set,” he wound up, moving his head + towards Elizabeth's friends. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if she is in New York,” Tavernake said, with a strange thrill at + his heart. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard made no reply. His eyes were fixed upon the little group at the + next table. Elizabeth was leaning back in her chair. She seemed to have + abandoned the conversation. Her eyes were always seeking Tavernake's. + Pritchard rose to his feet abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “It's time we were in bed,” he declared. “Remember the meeting to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake rose to his feet. As they passed the next table, Elizabeth + leaned over to him. Her eyes pleaded with his almost passionately. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Leonard,” she whispered, “you must—you must come and see me. I + shall stay in between four and six every evening this week. The Delvedere, + remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much,” Tavernake answered. “I shall not forget.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. FOR ALWAYS + </h2> + <p> + Once again it seemed to Beatrice that history was repeating itself. The + dingy, oblong dining-room, with its mosquito netting, stained tablecloth, + and hard cane chairs, expanded until she fancied herself in the + drawing-room of Blenheim House. Between the landladies there was little + enough to choose. Mrs. Raithby Lawrence, notwithstanding her caustic + tongue and suspicious nature, had at least made some pretense at + gentility. The woman who faced her now—hard-featured, with narrow, + suspicious eyes and a mass of florid hair—was unmistakably and + brutally vulgar. + </p> + <p> + “What's the good of your keeping on saying you hope to get an engagement + next week?” she demanded, with a sneer. “Who's likely to engage you? Why, + you've lost your color and your looks and your weight since you came to + stay here. They don't want such as you in the chorus. And for the rest, + you're too high and mighty, that's my opinion of you. Take what you can + get, and how you can get it, and be thankful,—that's my motto. Day + after day you tramp about the streets with your head in the air, and won't + take this and won't take that, and meanwhile my bill gets bigger and + bigger. Now where have you been to this morning, I should like to know?” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice, who was faint and tired, shaking in every limb, tried to pass + out of the room, but her questioner barred the way. + </p> + <p> + “I have been up town,” she answered, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Hear of anything?” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. Please let me go upstairs and lie down. I am tired and I need to + rest.” + </p> + <p> + “And I need my money,” Mrs. Selina P. Watkins declared, without quitting + her position, “and it's no good your going up to your room because the + door's locked.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” Beatrice faltered. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I've done with you,” the lodging-house keeper announced. + “Your room's locked up and the key's in my pocket, and the sooner you get + out of this, the better I shall be pleased.” + </p> + <p> + “But my box—my clothes,” Beatrice cried. + </p> + <p> + “I'll keep 'em a week for you,” the woman answered. “Bring me the money by + then and you shall have them. If I don't hear anything of you, they'll go + to the auction mart.” + </p> + <p> + Something of her old spirit fired the girl for a moment. She was angry, + and she forgot that her knees were trembling with fatigue, that she was + weak and aching with hunger. + </p> + <p> + “How dare you talk like that!” she exclaimed. “You shall have your money + shortly, but I must have my clothes. I cannot go anywhere without them.” + </p> + <p> + The woman laughed harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, my young lady,” she said, “you'll see your box again when I + see the color of your money, and not before. And now out you go, please,—out + you go! If you're going to make any trouble, Solly will have to show you + the way down the steps.” + </p> + <p> + The woman had opened the door, and a colored servant, half dressed, with a + broom in her hand, came slouching down the passage. Beatrice turned and + fled out of the greasy, noisome atmosphere, down the wooden, uneven steps, + out into the ugly street. She turned toward the nearest elevated as though + by instinct, but when she came to the bottom of the stairs she stopped + short with a little groan. She knew very well that she had not a nickel to + pay the fare. Her pockets were empty. All day she had eaten nothing, and + her last coin had gone for the car which had brought her back from + Broadway. And here she was on the other side of New York, in the region of + low-class lodging houses, with the Bowery between her and Broadway. She + had neither the strength nor the courage to walk. With a half-stifled sob + she took off her one remaining ornament, a cheap enameled brooch, and + entered a pawnbroker's shop close to where she had been standing. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give me something on this, please?” she asked, desperately. + </p> + <p> + A man who seemed to be sorting a pile of ready-made coats, paused in his + task for a moment, took the ornament into his hand, and threw it + contemptuously upon the counter. + </p> + <p> + “Not worth anything,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “But it must be worth something,” Beatrice protested. “I only want a very + little.” + </p> + <p> + Something in her voice compelled the man's attention. He looked at her + white face. + </p> + <p> + “What's the trouble?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I must get up to Fifth Avenue somehow,” she declared. “I can't walk and I + haven't a nickel.” + </p> + <p> + He pushed the brooch back to her and threw a dime upon the counter. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “you don't look fit to walk, and that's a fact, but the + brooch isn't worth entering up. There's a dime for you. Now git, please, + I'm busy.” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice clutched the coin and, almost forgetting to thank him, found her + way up the iron stairs on to the platform of the elevated. Soon she was + seated in the train, rattling and shaking on its way through the slums + into the heart of the wonderful city. There was only one thing left for + her to try, a thing which she had had in her mind for days. Yet she found + herself, even now she was committed to it, thinking of what lay before her + with something like black horror. It was her last resource, indeed. Strong + though she was, she knew by many small signs that her strength was almost + at an end. The days and weeks of disappointments, the long fruitless + trudges from office to office, the heart-sickness of constant refusals, + poor food, the long fasts, had all told their tale. She was attractive + enough still. Her pallor seemed to have given her a wonderful delicacy. + The curve of her lips and the soft light in her gray eyes, were still as + potent as ever. When she thought, though, what a poor asset her appearance + had been, the color flamed in her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + In Broadway she made her way to a very magnificent block of buildings, and + passing inside took the lift to the seventh floor. Here she got out and + knocked timidly at a glass-paneled door, on which was inscribed the name + of Mr. Anthony Cruxhall. A very superior young man bade her enter and + inquired her business. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to see Mr. Cruxhall for a moment, privately,” she said. “I shall + not detain him for more than a minute. My name is Franklin—Miss + Beatrice Franklin.” + </p> + <p> + The young man's lips seemed about to shape themselves into a whistle, but + something in the girl's face made him change his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I guess the boss is in,” he admitted. “He's just got back from a big + meeting, but I am not sure about his seeing any one to-day. However, I'll + tell him that you're here.” + </p> + <p> + He disappeared into an inner room. Presently he came out again and held + the door open. + </p> + <p> + “Will you walk right in, Miss Franklin?” he invited. + </p> + <p> + Beatrice went in bravely enough, but her knees began to tremble when she + found herself in the presence of the man she had come to visit. Mr. + Anthony Cruxhall was not a pleasant-looking person. His cheeks were fat + and puffy, he wore a diamond ring upon the finger of his too-white hand, + and a diamond pin in his somewhat flashily arranged necktie. He was + smoking a black cigar, which he omitted to remove from between his teeth + as he welcomed his visitor. + </p> + <p> + “So you've come to see me at last, little Miss Beatrice!” he said, with a + particularly unpleasant smile. “Come and sit down here by the side of me. + That's right, eh? Now what can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + Beatrice was trembling all over. The man's eyes were hateful, his smile + was hideous. + </p> + <p> + “I have not a cent in the world, Mr. Cruxhall,” she faltered, “I cannot + get an engagement, I have been turned out of my rooms, and I am hungry. My + father always told me that you would be a friend if at any time it + happened that I needed help. I am very sorry to have to come and beg, yet + that is what I am doing. Will you lend or give me ten or twenty dollars, + so that I can go on for a little longer? Or will you help me to get a + place among some of your theatrical people?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cruxhall puffed steadily at his cigar for a moment, and leaning back + in his chair thrust his hand into his trousers' pocket. + </p> + <p> + “So bad as that, is it?” he remarked. “So bad as that, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “It is very bad indeed,” she answered, looking at him quietly, “or you + know that I should not have come to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cruxhall smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I remember the last time we talked together,” he said, “we didn't get on + very well. Too high and mighty in those days, weren't you, Miss Beatrice? + Wouldn't have anything to say to a bad lot like Anthony Cruxhall. You're + having to come to it, eh?” + </p> + <p> + She began to tremble again, but she held herself in. + </p> + <p> + “I must live,” she murmured. “Give me a little money and let me go away.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll do better than that for you,” he answered, thrusting his hand + into his waistcoat pocket and drawing out a pile of dollar bills. “Let's + look at you. Gee whiz! Yes, you're shabby, aren't you? Take this,” he went + on, slamming some notes down before her. “Go and get yourself a new frock + and a hat fit to wear, and meet me at the Madison Square roof garden at + eight o'clock. We'll have some dinner and I guess we can fix matters up.” + </p> + <p> + Then he smiled at her again, and Beatrice, whose hand was already upon the + bills, suddenly felt her knees shake. A great black horror was upon her. + She turned and fled out of the room, past the astonished clerk, into the + lift, and was downstairs on the main floor before she remembered where she + was, what she had done. The clerk, after gazing at her retreating form, + hurried into the inner office. + </p> + <p> + “Young woman hasn't bolted with anything, eh?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cruxhall smiled wickedly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” he replied, “I guess she'll come back!” + </p> + <p> + Tavernake left the meeting on that same afternoon with his future + practically assured for life. He had been appointed surveyor to the + company at a salary of ten thousand dollars a year, and the mine in which + his savings were invested was likely to return him his small capital a + hundredfold. Very kind things had been said of him and to him. + </p> + <p> + Pritchard and he had left the place together. When they had reached the + street, they paused for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to make a call near here,” Pritchard said. “Don't forget that + we are dining together, unless you find something better to do, and in the + meantime”—he took a card from his pocket and handed it to Tavernake—“I + don't know whether I am a fool or not to give you this,” he added. + “However, there it is. Do as you choose about it.” + </p> + <p> + He walked away a little abruptly. Tavernake glanced at the address upon + the card: 1134, East Third Street. For a moment he was puzzled. Then the + light broke in upon him suddenly. His heart gave a leap. He turned back + into the place to ask for some directions and once more stopped short. + Down the stone corridor, like one who flies from some hideous fate, came a + slim black figure, with white face and set, horrified stare. Tavernake + held out his hands and she came to him with a great wondering sob. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard!” she cried. “Leonard!” + </p> + <p> + “There's no doubt about me,” he answered, quickly. “Am I such a very + terrifying object?” + </p> + <p> + She stood quite still and struggled hard. By and by the giddiness passed. + </p> + <p> + “Leonard,” she murmured, “I am ill.” + </p> + <p> + Then she began to smile. + </p> + <p> + “It is too absurd,” she faltered, “but you've got to do it all over + again.”' + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Get me something to eat at once,” she begged. “I am starving. Somewhere + where it's cool. Leonard, how wonderful! I never even knew that you were + in New York.” + </p> + <p> + He called a carriage and took her off to a roof garden. There, as it was + early, they got a seat near the parapet. Tavernake talked clumsily about + himself most of the time. There was a lump in his throat. He felt all the + while that tragedy was very near. By degrees, though, as she ate and + drank, the color came back to her cheeks, the fear of a breakdown seemed + to pass away. She became even cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “We are really the most amazing people, Leonard,” she declared. “You + stumbled into my life once before when I was on the point of being turned + out of my rooms. You've come into it again and you find me once more + homeless. Don't spend too much money upon our dinner, for I warn you that + I am going to borrow from you.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. + </p> + <p> + “That's good news,” he remarked, “but I'm not sure that I'm going to lend + anything.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned across the table. Their dinner had taken long in preparing and + the dusk was falling now. Over them were the stars, the band was playing + soft music, the hubbub of the streets lay far below. Almost they were in a + little world by themselves. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Beatrice,” he said, “three times I asked you to marry me and you + would not, and I asked you because I was a selfish brute, and because I + knew that it was good for me and that it would save me from things of + which I was afraid. And now I am asking you the same thing again, but I + have a bigger reason, Beatrice. I have been alone most of the last two + years, I have lived the sort of life which brings a man face to face with + the truth, helps him to know himself and others, and I have found out + something.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she faltered. “Tell me, Leonard.” + </p> + <p> + “I found out that it was you I cared for always,” he continued, “and that + is why I am asking you to marry me now, Beatrice, only this time I ask you + because I love you, and because no one else in the world could ever take + your place or be anything at all to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Leonard!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “You are not sorry that I have said this?” he begged. + </p> + <p> + She opened her eyes again. + </p> + <p> + “I always prayed that I might hear you say it,” she answered, “but it + seems—oh, it seems so one-sided! Here am I starving and penniless, + and you—you, I suppose, are well on the way towards the success you + worshiped.” + </p> + <p> + “I am well on the way,” he said, earnestly, “towards something greater, + Beatrice. I am well on the way towards understanding what success really + is, what things count and what don't. I have even found out,” he + whispered, “the thing which counts for more than anything else in the + world, and now that I have found it out, I shall never let it go again.” + </p> + <p> + He pressed her hand and she looked across the table at him with swimming + eyes. The waiter, who had been approaching, turned discreetly away. The + band started to play a fresh tune. From down in the streets came the + clanging of the cars. A curious, cosmopolitan murmur of sounds, but + between those two there was the wonderful silence. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Tempting of Tavernake, by E. 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