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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Castle Craneycrow, by George Barr McCutcheon
+
+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: Castle Craneycrow
+
+Author: George Barr McCutcheon
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5349]
+This file was first posted on July 6, 2002
+Last Updated: April 5, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CASTLE CRANEYCROW ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Aldarondo
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CASTLE CRANEYCROW
+
+By George Barr McCutcheon
+
+NEW YORK
+
+1902
+
+
+
+
+CASTLE CRANEYCROW
+
+
+
+
+I. THE TAKING OF TURK
+
+
+It was characteristic of Mr. Philip Quentin that he first lectured
+his servant on the superiority of mind over matter and then took him
+cheerfully by the throat and threw him into a far corner of the
+room. As the servant was not more than half the size of the master,
+his opposition was merely vocal, but it was nevertheless
+unmistakable. His early career had increased his vocabulary and his
+language was more picturesque than pretty. Yet of his loyalty and
+faithfulness, there could be no doubt. During the seven years of his
+service, he had been obliged to forget that he possessed such a name
+as Turkington or even James. He had been Turk from the beginning,
+and Turk he remained--and, in spite of occasional out breaks, he had
+proved his devotion to the young gentleman whose goods and chattels
+he guarded with more assiduity than he did his own soul or--what
+meant more to him--his personal comfort. His employment came about in
+an unusual way. Mr. Quentin had an apartment in a smart building
+uptown. One night he was awakened by a noise in his room. In the
+darkness he saw a man fumbling among his things, and in an instant
+he had seized his revolver from the stand at his bedside and covered
+the intruder. Then he calmly demanded: "Now, what are you doing
+here?"
+
+"I'm lookin' for a boardin' house," replied the other, sullenly.
+
+"You're just a plain thief--that's all."
+
+"Well, it won't do me no good to say I'm a sleepwalker, will it?--er
+a missionary, er a dream? But, on d' dead, sport, I'm hungry, an' I
+wuz tryin' to git enough to buy a meal an' a bed. On d' dead, I
+wuz."
+
+"And a suit of clothes, and an overcoat, and a house and lot, I
+suppose, and please don't call me 'sport' again. Sit down--not oh
+the floor; on that chair over there. I'm going to search you. Maybe
+you've got something I need." Mr. Quentin turned on the light and
+proceeded to disarm the man, piling his miserable effects on a
+chair. "Take off that mask. Lord! put it on again; you look much
+better. So, you're hungry, are you?"
+
+"As a bear."
+
+Quentin never tried to explain his subsequent actions; perhaps he
+had had a stupid evening. He merely yawned and addressed the burglar
+with all possible respect. "Do you imagine I'll permit any guest of
+mine to go away hungry? If you'll wait till I dress, we'll stroll
+over to a restaurant in the next street and get some supper.
+
+"Police station, you mean."
+
+"Now, don't be unkind, Mr. Burglar. I mean supper for two. I'm
+hungry myself, but not a bit sleepy. Will you wait?"
+
+"Oh, I'm in no particular hurry."
+
+Quentin dressed calmly. The burglar began whistling softly.
+
+"Are you ready?" asked Philip, putting on his overcoat and hat.
+
+"I haven't got me overcoat on yet," replied the burglar,
+suggestively. Quentin saw he was dressed in the chilliest of rags.
+He opened a closet door and threw him a long coat.
+
+"Ah, here is your coat. I must have taken it from the club by
+mistake. Pardon me."
+
+"T'anks; I never expected to git it back," coolly replied the
+burglar, donning the best coat that had ever touched his person.
+"You didn't see anything of my gloves and hat in there, did you?" A
+hat and a pair of gloves were produced, not perfect in fit, but
+quite respectable.
+
+Soberly they walked out into the street and off through the
+two-o'clock stillness. The mystified burglar was losing his
+equanimity. He could not understand the captor's motive, nor could
+he much longer curb his curiosity. In his mind he was fully
+satisfied that he was walking straight to the portals of the nearest
+station. In all his career as a housebreaker, he had never before
+been caught, and now to be captured in such a way and treated in
+such a way was far past comprehension. Ten minutes before he was
+looking at a stalwart figure with a leveled revolver, confidently
+expecting to drop with the bullet in his body from an agitated
+weapon. Indeed, he encountered conditions so strange that he felt a
+doubt of their reality. He had, for some peculiar and amazing
+reason, no desire to escape. There was something in the oddness of
+the proceeding that made him wish to see it to an end. Besides, he
+was quite sure the strapping young fellow would shoot if he
+attempted to bolt.
+
+"This is a fairly good eating house," observed the would-be victim
+as they came to an "all-nighter." They entered and deliberately
+removed their coats, the thief watching his host with shifty, even
+twinkling eyes. "What shall it be, Mr. Robber? You are hungry, and
+you may order the entire bill, from soup to the date line, if you
+like. Pitch in."
+
+"Say, boss, what's your game?" demanded the crook, suddenly. His
+sharp, pinched face, with its week's growth of beard, wore a new
+expression--that of admiration. "I ain't such a rube that I don't
+like a good t'ing even w'en it ain't comin' my way. You'se a dandy,
+dat's right, an' I t'ink we'd do well in de business togedder. Put
+me nex' to yer game."
+
+"Game? The bill of fare tells you all about that. Here's quail,
+squab, duck--see? That's the only game I'm interested in. Go on, and
+order."
+
+"S' 'elp me Gawd if you ain't a peach."
+
+For half an hour Mr. Burglar ate ravenously, Quentin watching him
+through half-closed, amused eyes. He had had a dull, monotonous
+week, and this was the novelty that lifted life out of the torpidity
+into which it had fallen.
+
+The host at this queer feast was at that time little more than
+twenty-five years of age, a year out of Yale, and just back from a
+second tour of South America. He was an orphan, coming into a big
+fortune with his majority, and he had satiated an old desire to
+travel in lands not visited by all the world. Now he was back in New
+York to look after the investments his guardian had made, and he
+found them so ridiculously satisfactory that they cast a shadow of
+dullness across his mind, always hungry for activity.
+
+"Have you a place to sleep?" he asked, at length.
+
+"I live in Jersey City, but I suppose I can find a cheap lodgin'
+house down by d' river. Trouble is, I ain't got d' price."
+
+"Then come back home with me. You may sleep in Jackson's room.
+Jackson was my man till yesterday, when I dismissed him for stealing
+my cigars and drinking my drinks. I won't have anybody about me who
+steals. Come along."
+
+Then they walked swiftly back to Quentin's flat. The owner of the
+apartment directed his puzzled guest to a small room off his own,
+and told him to go to bed.
+
+"By the way, what's your name?" he asked, before he closed the door.
+
+"Turkington--James Turkington, sir," answered the now respectful
+robber. And he wanted to say more, but the other interrupted.
+
+"Well, Turk, when you get up in the morning, polish those shoes of
+mine over there. We'll talk it over after I've had my breakfast.
+Good-night."
+
+And that is how Turk, most faithful and loyal of servants, began his
+apparently endless employment with Mr. Philip Quentin, dabbler in
+stocks, bonds and hearts. Whatever his ugly past may have been,
+whatever his future may have promised, he was honest to a painful
+degree in these days with Quentin. Quick-witted, fiery, willful and
+as ugly as a little demon, Turk knew no law, no integrity except
+that which benefitted his employer. Beyond a doubt, if Quentin had
+instructed him to butcher a score of men, Turk would have proceeded
+to do so and without argument. But Quentin instructed him to be
+honest, law-abiding and cautious. It would be perfectly safe to
+guess his age between forty and sixty, but it would not be wise to
+measure his strength by the size of his body. The little ex-burglar
+was like a piece of steel.
+
+
+
+
+
+II. SOME RAIN AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
+
+
+New York had never been so nasty and cold and disagreeable. For
+three weeks it had rained--a steady, chilling drizzle. Quentin stood
+it as long as he could, but the weather is a large factor in the
+life of a gentleman of leisure. He couldn't play Squash the entire
+time, and Bridge he always maintained was more of a profession than
+a pastime. So it was that one morning, as he looked out at the
+sheets of water blowing across the city, his mind was made up.
+
+"We'll get out of this, Turk. I've had enough of it."
+
+"Where do we go, sir?" calmly asked the servant.
+
+"Heaven knows! But be ready to start tomorrow. We'll go somewhere
+and dodge this blessed downpour. Call me a cab."
+
+As he drove to the club, he mentally tossed coppers as to his
+destination. People were already coming back from Aiken and Palm
+Beach, and those who had gone to the country were cooped up indoors
+and shivering about the fireplaces. Where could he go? As he
+entered the club a man hailed him from the front room.
+
+"Quentin, you're just the man I'm looking for. Come in here."
+
+It was the Earl of Saxondale--familiarly "Lord Bob"--an old chum of
+Quentin's. "My missus sent me with an invitation for you, and I've
+come for your acceptance," said the Englishman, when Quentin had
+joined him.
+
+"Come home with us. We're sailing on the Lucania to-morrow, and
+there are going to be some doings in England this month which you
+mustn't miss. Dickey Savage is coming, and we want you."
+
+Quentin looked at him and laughed. Saxondale was perfectly serious.
+"We're going to have some people up for Goodwood, and later we shall
+have a house-boat for Henley. So you'd better come. It won't be bad
+sport."
+
+Quentin started to thank his friend and decline. Then he remembered
+that he wanted to get away--there was absolutely nothing to keep him
+at home, and, besides, he liked Lord Bob and his American wife.
+
+Fashionable New York recalls the marriage of the Earl of Saxondale
+and Frances Thornow when the '90's were young, and everybody said it
+was a love match. To be sure, she was wealthy, but so was he. She
+had declined offers of a half-dozen other noblemen; therefore it was
+not ambition on her part. He could have married any number of
+wealthier American girls; therefore it was not avarice on his part.
+He was a good-looking, stalwart chap with a very fetching drawl,
+infinite gentility, and a man despite his monocle, while she was
+beautiful, witty and womanly; therefore it is reasonable to suspect
+that it must have been love that made her Lady Saxondale.
+
+Lord Bob and Lady Frances were frequent visitors to New York. He
+liked New York, and New Yorkers liked him. His wife was enough of a
+true American to love the home of her forefathers. "What my wife
+likes I seem to have a fondness for," said he, complacently. He once
+remarked that were she to fall in love with another man he would
+feel in duty bound to like him.
+
+Saxondale had money invested in American copper mines, and his wife
+had railroad stocks. When they came to New York, once or twice a
+year, they took a furnished apartment, entertained and were
+entertained for a month or so, rushed their luggage back to the
+steamer and sailed for home, perfectly satisfied with themselves
+and--the markets.
+
+Quentin looked upon Lord Bob's invitation as a sporting proposition.
+This would not be the first time he had taken a steamer on
+twenty-four hours' notice. The one question was accommodation, and a
+long acquaintance with the agent helped him to get passage where
+others would have failed.
+
+So it happened that the next morning Turk was unpacking things in
+Mr. Quentin's cabin and establishing relations with the bath
+steward.
+
+
+
+
+III. PRINCE UGO
+
+
+Several days out from New York found the weather fine and Lord
+Saxondale's party enjoying life thoroughly. Dickey and the
+capricious Lady Jane were bright or squally with charming
+uncertainty. Lady Jane, Lord Bob's sister, certainly was not in love
+with Mr. Savage, and he was too indolent to give his side of the
+case continuous thought. Dimly he realized, and once lugubriously
+admitted, that he was not quite heartwhole, but he had not reached a
+positive understanding with himself.
+
+"How do they steer the ship at night when it is so cloudy they can't
+see the north star?" she asked, as they leaned over the rail one
+afternoon. Her pretty face was very serious, and there was a
+philosophical pucker on her brow.
+
+"With a rudder," he answered, laconically.
+
+"How very odd!" she said, with a malicious gleam in her eyes. "You
+are as wonderfully well-informed concerning the sea as you are
+on all other subjects. How good it must seem to be so awfully
+intelligent."
+
+"It isn't often that I find anyone who asks really intelligent
+questions, you know, Lady Jane. Your profound quest for knowledge
+forced my dormant intellect into action, and I remembered that a
+ship invariably has a rudder or something like that."
+
+"I see it requires the weightiest of questions to arouse your
+intellect." The wind was blowing the stray hairs ruthlessly across
+her face and she looked very, very pretty.
+
+"Intellects are so very common nowadays that 'most anything will
+arouse them. Quentin says his man Turk has a brain, and if Turk has
+a brain I don't see how the rest of us can escape. I'd like to be a
+porpoise."
+
+"What an ambition! Why not a whale or a shark?"
+
+"If I were a shark you'd be afraid of me, and if I were a whale I
+could not begin to get into your heart."
+
+"That's the best thing you've said since you were seasick," she
+said, sweetly.
+
+"I'm glad you didn't hear what I said when I was seasick."
+
+"Oh! I've heard brother Bob say things," loftily.
+
+"But nobody can say things quite so impressively as an American."
+
+"Pooh! You boasting Americans think you can do everything better
+than others. Now you claim that you can swear better. I won't listen
+to you," and off she went toward the companionway. Dickey looked
+mildly surprised, but did not follow. Instead, he joined Lady
+Saxondale and Quentin in a stroll.
+
+Four days later they were comfortably established with Saxondale in
+London. That night Quentin met, for the first time, the reigning
+society sensation, Prince Ugo Ravorelli, and his countrymen, Count
+Sallaconi and the Duke of Laselli. All London had gone mad over the
+prince.
+
+There was something oddly familiar in the face and voice of the
+Italian. Quentin sat with him for an hour, listening with puzzled
+ears to the conversation that went on between him and Saxondale. On
+several occasions he detected a curious, searching look in the
+Italian's dark eyes, and was convinced that the prince also had the
+impression that they had met before. At last Quentin, unable to curb
+his curiosity, expressed his doubt. Ravorelli's gaze was penetrating
+as he replied, but it was perfectly frank.
+
+"I have the feeling that your face is not strange to me, yet I
+cannot recall when or where I have seen you. Have you been in Paris
+of late?" he asked, his English almost perfect. It seemed to Quentin
+that there was a look of relief in his dark eyes, and there was a
+trace of satisfaction in the long breath that followed the question.
+
+"No," he replied; "I seem in some way to associate you with Brazil
+and the South American cities. Were you ever in Rio Janeiro?"
+
+"I have never visited either of the Americas. We are doubtless
+misled by a strange resemblance to persons we know quite well, but
+who do not come to mind."
+
+"But isn't it rather odd that we should have the same feeling? And
+you have not been in New York?" persisted Phil.
+
+"I have not been in America at all, you must remember," replied the
+prince, coldly.
+
+"I'd stake my soul on it," thought Quentin to himself, more fully
+convinced than ever. "I've seen him before and more than once, too.
+He remembers me, even though I can't place him. It's devilish
+aggravating, but his face is as familiar as if I saw him yesterday."
+
+When they parted for the night Ravorelli's glance again impressed
+the American with a certainty that he, at least, was not in doubt as
+to where and when they had met.
+
+"You are trying to recall where we have seen one another," said the
+prince, smiling easily, his white teeth showing clearly between
+smooth lips. "My cousin visited America some years ago, and there is
+a strong family resemblance. Possibly you have our faces confused."
+
+"That may be the solution," admitted Phil, but he was by no means
+satisfied by the hypothesis.
+
+In the cab, later on, Lord Bob was startled from a bit of doze by
+hearing his thoughtful, abstracted companion exclaim:
+
+"By thunder!"
+
+"What's up? Forgot your hat, or left something at the club?" he
+demanded, sleepily.
+
+"No; I remember something, that's all. Bob, I know where I've seen
+that Italian prince. He was in Rio Janeiro with a big Italian opera
+company just before I left there for New York."
+
+"What! But he said he'd never been in America," exclaimed Saxondale,
+wide awake.
+
+"Well, he lied, that's all. I am positive he's the man, and the best
+proof in the world is the certainty that he remembers me. Of course
+he denies it, but you know what he said when I first asked him if we
+had met. He was the tenor in Pagani's opera company, and he sang in
+several of the big South American cities. They were in Rio Janeiro
+for weeks, and we lived in the same hotel. There's no mistake about
+it, old man. This howling swell of to-day was Pagani's tenor, and he
+was a good one, too. Gad, what a Romeo he was! Imagine him in the
+part, Bob. Lord, how the women raved about him!"
+
+"I say, Phil, don't be ass enough to tell anybody else about this,
+even if you're cocksure he's the man. He was doubtless driven to the
+stage for financial reasons, you know, and it wouldn't be quite
+right to bring it up now if he has a desire to suppress the truth.
+Since he has come into the title and estates it might be deuced
+awkward to have that sort of a past raked up."
+
+"I should say it would be awkward if that part of his past were
+raked up. He wasn't a Puritan, Bob."
+
+"They are a bit scarce at best."
+
+"He was known in those days as Giovanni Pavesi, and he wasn't in
+such dire financial straits, either. It was his money that backed
+the enterprise, and it was common property, undenied by him or
+anyone else, that the chief object in the speculation was the love
+of the prima donna, Carmenita Malban. And, Bob, she was the most
+beautiful woman I ever saw. The story was that she was a countess or
+something of the sort. Poverty forced her to make use of a glorious
+voice, and the devil sent Pagani to young Pavesi, who was then a
+student with some ripping big master, in the hope that he would
+interest the young man in a scheme to tour South America. It seems
+that Signorita Malban's beauty set his heart on fire, and he
+promptly produced the coin to back the enterprise, the only
+condition being that he was to sing the tenor roles. All this came
+out in the trial, you know."
+
+"The trial! What trial?"
+
+"Giovanni's. Let me think a minute. She was killed on the 29th of
+March, and he was not arrested until they had virtually convicted
+one of the chorus men of the murder. Pagani and Pavesi quarrelled,
+and the former openly accused his 'angel' of the crime. This led to
+an arrest just as the tenor was getting away on a ship bound for
+Spain."
+
+"Arrested him for the murder of the woman? On my life, Quentin, you
+make a serious blunder unless you can prove all this. When did it
+all happen?"
+
+"Two years ago. Oh, I'm not mistaken about it; it is as clear as
+sunlight to me now. They took him back and tried him. Members of the
+troupe swore he had threatened on numerous occasions to kill her if
+she continued to repulse him. On the night of the murder--it was
+after the opera--he was heard to threaten her. She defied him, and
+one of the women in the company testified that he sought to
+intimidate Malban by placing the point of his stiletto against her
+white neck. But, in spite of all this, he was acquitted. I was in
+New York when the trial ended, but I read of the verdict in the
+press dispatches. Some one killed her, that is certain, and the
+nasty job was done in her room at the hotel. I heard some of the
+evidence, and I'll say that I believed he was the guilty man, but I
+considered him insane when he committed the crime. He loved her to
+the point of madness, and she would not yield to his passion. It was
+shown that she loved the chorus singer who was first charged with
+her murder."
+
+"Ravorelli doesn't look like a murderer," said Lord Bob, stoutly.
+
+"But he remembers seeing me in that courtroom, Bob."
+
+
+
+
+IV. AND THE GIRL, TOO
+
+
+"Now tell me all about our Italian friend," said Quentin next
+morning to Lady Frances, who had not lost her frank Americanism when
+she married Lord Bob, The handsome face of the young prince had been
+in his thoughts the night before until sleep came, and then there
+were dreams in which the same face appeared vaguely sinister and
+foreboding. He had acted on the advice of Lord Bob and had said
+nothing of the Brazilian experiences.
+
+"Prince Ugo? I supposed that every newspaper in New York had been
+devoting columns to him. He is to marry an American heiress, and
+some of the London journals say she is so rich that everybody else
+looks poor beside her."
+
+"Lucky dog, eh? Everybody admires him, too, it seems. Do you know
+him, Frances?"
+
+"I've met him a number of times on the continent, but not often in
+London. He is seldom here, you know. Really, he is quite a charming
+fellow."
+
+"Yes," laconically. "Are Italian princes as cheap as they used to
+be? Mary Carrolton got that nasty little one of hers for two hundred
+thousand, didn't she? This one looks as though he might come a
+little higher. He's good-looking enough."
+
+"Oh, Ugo is not like the Carrolton investment. You see, this one is
+vastly rich, and he's no end of a swell in sunny Italy. Really, the
+match is the best an American girl has made over here in--oh, in
+centuries, I may say."
+
+"Pocahontas made a fairly decent one, I believe, and so did Frances
+Thornow; but, to my limited knowledge, I think they are the only
+satisfactory matches that have been pulled off in the last few
+centuries. Strange, they both married Englishmen."
+
+"Thank you. You don't like Italian princes, then?"
+
+"Oh, if I could buy a steady, well-broken, tractable one, I'd take
+him as an investment, perhaps, but I believe, on the whole, I'd
+rather put the money into a general menagerie like Barnum's or
+Forepaugh's. You get such a variety of beasts that way, you know."
+
+"Come, now, Phil, your sarcasm is unjust. Prince Ugo is very much of
+a gentleman, and Bob says he is very clever, too. Did you see much
+of him last night?"
+
+"I saw him at the club and talked a bit with him. Then I saw him
+while I slept. He is much better in the club than he is in a dream."
+
+"You dreamed of him last night? He certainly made an impression,
+then," she said.
+
+"I dreamed I saw him abusing a harmless, overworked and underfed
+little monkey on the streets of New York."
+
+"How absurd!"
+
+"The monkey wouldn't climb up to the window of my apartment to
+collect nickels for the vilest hand-organ music a man ever heard,
+even in a nightmare."
+
+"Phil Quentin, you are manufacturing that dream as you sit here.
+Wait till you know him better and you will like him."
+
+"His friends, too? One of those chaps looks as if he might throw a
+bomb with beautiful accuracy--the Laselli duke, I think. Come, now,
+Frances, you'll admit he's an ugly brute, won't you?"
+
+"Yes, you are quite right, and I can't say that the count impresses
+me more favorably."
+
+"I'll stake my head the duke's ancestors were brigands or something
+equally appalling. A couple of poor, foolish American girls elevate
+them both to the position of money-spenders-in-chief though, I
+presume, and the newspapers will sizzle."
+
+At dinner that evening the discussion was resumed, all those at the
+table taking part. The tall young American was plainly prejudiced
+against the Italian, but his stand was a mystery to all save Lord
+Bob. Dickey Savage was laboriously non-committal until Lady Jane
+took sides unequivocally with Quentin. Then he vigorously defended
+the unlucky prince. Lady Saxondale and Sir James Graham, one of the
+guests, took pains to place the Italian in the best light possible
+before the critical American.
+
+"I almost forgot to tell you, Phil," suddenly cried Lady Saxondale,
+her pretty face beaming with excitement. "The girl he is to marry is
+an old flame of yours."
+
+"Quite impossible, Lady Frances. I never had a flame."
+
+"But she was, I'm sure."
+
+"Are you a theosophist?" asked Phil, gaily, but he listened
+nevertheless. Who could she be? It seemed for the moment, as his
+mind swept backward, that he had possessed a hundred sweethearts.
+"I've had no sweetheart since I began existence in the present
+form."
+
+"Good Lord!" ejaculated Dickey, solemnly and impressively.
+
+"I'll bet my soul Frances is right," drawled Lord Bob. "She always
+is, you know. My boy, if she says you had a sweetheart, you either
+had one or somebody owes you one. You've never collected, perhaps."
+
+"If he collected them he'd have a harem," observed Mr. Savage,
+sagely. "He's had so many he can't count 'em."
+
+"I should think it disgusting to count them, Mr. Savage, even if he
+could," said Lady Jane, severely.
+
+"I can count mine backwards," he said.
+
+"Beginning at one?"
+
+"Yes, Lady Jane; one in my teens, none at present. No task, at all,
+to count mine."
+
+"Won't you give me the name of that old sweetheart of mine, Lady
+Saxondale? Whom is the prince to marry?" asked Quentin.
+
+"Dorothy Garrison. She lived in your block seven or eight years ago,
+up to the time she went to Brussels with her mother. Now, do you
+remember?"
+
+"You don't mean it! Little Dorothy? By George, she was a pretty
+girl, too. Of course, I remember her. But that was ages ago. She was
+fourteen and I was nineteen. You are right, Lady Saxondale. I'll
+confess to having regarded her as the fairest creature the sun ever
+shone upon. For six solid, delicious months she was the foundation
+of every thought that touched my brain. And then--well, what
+happened then? Oh, yes; we quarrelled and forgot each other. So
+she's the girl who's to marry the prince, is she?" Quentin's face
+was serious for the moment; a far-off look of real concern came into
+his eyes. He was recalling a sweet, dainty face, a girlish figure,
+and the days gone by.
+
+"How odd I did not think of it before. Really, you two were dreadful
+spoons in those days. Mamma used to worry for fear you'd carry out
+your threat to run away with her. And now she's to be a real live
+princess." Lady Frances created a profound sensation when she
+resurrected Quentin's boyhood love affair with the one American girl
+that all Europe talked about at that moment. Lord Bob was excited,
+perhaps for the first time since he proposed to Frances Thornow.
+
+"By Jove, old man, this is rare, devilish rare. No wonder you have
+such a deuced antipathy to the prince. Intuition must have told you
+that he was to marry one of the ladies of your past."
+
+"Why, Bob, we were children, and there was nothing to it. Truly, I
+had forgotten that pretty child--that's all she was--and I'll warrant
+she wouldn't remember my name if some one spoke it in her presence.
+Every boy and girl has had that sort of an affair."
+
+"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw," cried Lady Jane,
+ecstatically. Dickey Savage looked sharply at her vivacious face.
+"When did you last see her, Mr. Quentin?"
+
+"I can't recall, but I know it was when her hair hung down her back.
+She left New York before she was fifteen, I'm quite sure. I think I
+was in love with a young widow fourteen years my senior, at the
+time, and did not pay much heed to Dorothy's departure. She and her
+mother have been traveling since then?"
+
+"They traveled for three years before Mrs. Garrison could make up
+her mind to settle down in Brussels. I believe she said it reminded
+her of Paris, only it was a little more so," said Lord Bob. "We met
+them in Paris five years ago, on our wedding trip, and she was
+undecided until I told her she might take a house near the king's
+palace in Brussels, such as it is, and off she flew to be as close
+to the crown as possible. She struck me as a gory old party who
+couldn't live comfortably unless she were dabbling in blue blood.
+The girl was charming, though."
+
+"She's in London now," ventured Sir James. "The papers say she came
+especially to see the boat races, but there is a pretty well
+established belief that she came because the prince is here. Despite
+their millions, I understand it is a love match."
+
+"I hope I may have a look at her while I'm here, just to see what
+time has done for her," said Quentin.
+
+"You may have the chance to ask if she remembers you," said Dickey.
+
+"And if she thinks you've grown older," added Lord Bob.
+
+"Will you tell her you are not married?" demanded Lady Jane.
+
+"I'll do but one thing, judging from the way you describe the
+goddess. Just stand with open mouth and marvel at her magnificence.
+Somewhere among my traps I have a picture of her when she was
+fourteen, taken with me one afternoon at a tin-typer's. If I can
+find it, I'll show it to her, just to prove that we both lived ten
+years ago. She's doubtless lived so much since I saw her last that
+she'll deny an existence so far back as that."
+
+"You won't be so deuced sarcastic when you see her, even if she is
+to marry a prince. I tell you, Phil, she is something worth looking
+at forever," said Lord Bob.
+
+"I never saw such eyes, such a complexion, such hair, such a
+carriage," cried Lady Frances.
+
+"Has she any teeth?" asked Dickey, and was properly frowned upon by
+Lady Jane.
+
+"You describe her as completely in that sentence, Lady Frances, as a
+novelist could in eight pages," said Quentin.
+
+"No novelist could describe her," was the answer.
+
+"It's to be hoped no novelist may attempt it," said Quentin. "She is
+beautiful beyond description, she will be a princess, and she knew
+me when I didn't know enough to appreciate her. Her eyes were blue
+in the old days, and her hair was almost black. Colors still obtain?
+Then we have her description in advance. Now, let's go on with the
+romance."
+
+
+
+
+V. A SUNDAY ENCOUNTER
+
+
+It was a sunny Sunday morning and the church parade was popular.
+Lady Frances and Quentin were walking together when Prince Ugo
+joined them. He looked hardly over twenty-five, his wavy black hair
+giving him a picturesque look. He wore no beard, and his dark skin
+was as clear as a girl's.
+
+"By the way," said Quentin, "Lady Saxondale tells me you are to
+marry a former acquaintance of mine."
+
+"Miss Garrison is an acquaintance?" cried the prince, lifting his
+dark eyes. An instant later his gaze roamed away into the horde of
+passing women, as if searching for the woman whose name brought
+light to his soul.
+
+"Was an acquaintance, I think I said. I doubt if she remembers me
+now. She was a child when I knew her. Is she here this morning?"
+asked Phil, secretly amused by the anxious look in the Italian's
+eyes.
+
+"She will be with Lady Marnham, Ah, I see them now." The young
+prince was looking eagerly ahead.
+
+Quentin saw Miss Garrison and gasped with astonishment. Could that
+stunning young woman be the little Dorothy of New York days? He
+could scarcely believe his eyes and ears, notwithstanding the
+introductions which followed.
+
+"And here is an old New York friend. Miss Garrison, Mr. Philip
+Quentin. You surely remember him, Miss Garrison," said Lady Frances,
+with a peculiar gleam in her eye. For a second the young lady at
+Quentin's side exhibited surprise; a faint flush swept into her
+cheek, and then, with a rare smile, she extended her hand to the
+American.
+
+"Of course, I remember him. Phil and I were playmates in the old
+days. Dear me, it seems a century ago," she said.
+
+"I cannot tell you how well the century has treated you," he said,
+gallantly. "It has not been so kind to me."
+
+"Years are never unkind to men," she responded. She smiled upon the
+adoring prince and turned again to Quentin. "Tell me about New York,
+Phil. Tell me about yourself."
+
+"I can only say that New York has grown larger and better, and that
+I have grown older and worse. Mrs. Garrison may doubt that I could
+possibly grow worse, but I have proof positive. I am dabbling in
+Wall street."
+
+"I can imagine nothing more reprehensible," said Mrs. Garrison,
+amiably. Quentin swiftly renewed his opinion of the mother. That
+estimate coincided with the impression his youth had formed, and it
+was not far in the wrong. Here was the mother with a hope loftier
+than a soul. Purse-proud, ambitious, condescending to a degree--a
+woman who would achieve what she set out to do at all hazards. Less
+than fifty, still handsome, haughty and arrogant, descended through
+a long line of American aristocracy, calm, resourceful, heartless.
+For fifteen years a widow, with no other object than to live at the
+top and to marry her only child into a realm far beyond the dreams
+of other American mothers. Millions had she to flaunt in the faces
+of an astonished, marveling people. Clever, tactful, aggressive,
+capable of winning where others had failed, this American mother was
+respected, even admired, in the class to which she had climbed. Here
+was the woman who had won her way into continental society as have
+few of her countrywomen. To none save a cold, discerning man from
+her own land was she transparent. Lord Bob, however, had a faint
+conception of her aims, her capacity.
+
+As they walked on, Quentin scarcely took his eyes from Miss
+Garrison's face. He was wearing down the surprise that the
+sweetheart of his boyhood had inspired, by deliberately seeking
+flaws in her beauty, her figure, her manner. After a time he felt
+her more wonderful than ever. Lord Bob joined the party, and Quentin
+stopped a second to speak to him. As he did so Prince Ugo was at
+Miss Garrison's side in an instant.
+
+"So she is the girl that damned Italian is to elevate?" said Mr.
+Quentin to himself. "By George, it's a shame!" He did not see Lord
+Bob and his wife exchange a quick smile of significance.
+
+As they all reached the corner, Quentin asked: "Are you in London
+for long, Dorothy?" Lady Frances thought his tone a trifle eager.
+
+"For ten days or so. Will you come to see me?" Their eyes met and he
+felt certain that the invitation was sincerely given. "Lady Marnham
+is having some people in to-morrow afternoon. Perhaps you'll come
+then," she added, and Phil looked crestfallen.
+
+"I'll come," he said. "I want to tell you the story of my past life.
+You didn't know I'd been prime minister of a South American
+republic, did you?"
+
+She nodded and they separated. Prince Ugo heard the last words of
+the American, and a small, clear line appeared for an instant
+between his black eyebrows.
+
+Lady Frances solemnly and secretively shook her finger at Quentin,
+and he laughed with the disdain of one who understands and denies
+without the use of words. Lord Bob had wanted to kick him when he
+mentioned South America, but he said nothing. Quentin was in
+wonderful spirits all the way home.
+
+
+
+
+VI. DOROTHY GARRISON
+
+
+Quentin was driving with Lady Saxondale to the home of Miss
+Garrison's hostess. Phil's fair, calculating companion said to
+herself that she had never seen a handsomer fellow than this
+stalwart American. There was about him that clean, strong, sweet
+look of the absolutely healthy man, the man who has buffeted the
+world and not been buffeted by the world. He was frank, bright,
+straightforward, and there was that always-to-be-feared yet
+ever-to-be-desired gleam of mastery in his eye. It may have been
+sometimes a wicked mastery, and more than one woman who admired him
+because she could not help herself had said, "There is a devil in
+his eyes."
+
+They found Lady Marnham's reception hall full of guests, few of whom
+Quentin had seen before. He was relieved to find that the prince was
+not present, and he made his way to Dorothy's side, with Lady
+Frances, coolly dropping into the chair which a young captain had
+momentarily abandoned. Lady Frances sat beside Miss Garrison on the
+divan.
+
+"I am so glad you kept your promise, Phil, and came. It seems good
+to see you after all these years. You bring back the dear days at
+home," said Dorothy, delight in her voice.
+
+"From that I judge you sometimes long for them," he said, simply. To
+Lady Frances it sounded daring.
+
+"Often, oh, so very often. I have not been in New York for years.
+Lady Saxondale goes back so often that she doesn't have the chance
+to grow homesick."
+
+"I hear you are going over this fall," said Quentin, with a fair
+show of interest.
+
+"Who--who told you so?" she asked, in some surprise. He could not
+detect confusion.
+
+"Prince Ravorelli. At least, he said he expected to make the trip
+this fall. Am I wrong in suspecting that he is not going alone?"
+
+"We mean to spend much of the winter in the United States, chiefly
+in Florida. I shall depend on you, Phil, to be nice to him in New
+York. You can do so much to make it pleasant for him. He has never
+been in New York, you know."
+
+"It may depend on what he will consider pleasant. I don't believe he
+will enjoy all the things I like. But I'll try. I'll get Dickey
+Savage to give a dinner for him, and if he can survive that, he's
+capable of having a good time anywhere. Dickey's dinners are the
+real test, you know. Americans stand them because they are rugged
+and accustomed to danger."
+
+"You will find Prince Ugo rugged," she said, flushing slightly, and
+he imagined he could distinguish a softness in her tone.
+
+"I am told he is an athlete, a great horseman, a marvelous
+swordsman," said Lady Frances.
+
+"I am glad you have heard something about him that is true," said
+Dorothy, a trifle quickly. "Usually they say that princes are all
+that is detestable and unmanly. I am sure you will like him, Phil."
+
+Mrs. Garrison came up at this moment with Lady Marnham, and Quentin
+arose to greet the former as warmly as he could under the smooth
+veil of hypocrisy. Again, just before Lady Frances signaled to him
+that it was time for them to leave, he found himself in
+conversation, over the teacups, with Dorothy Garrison. This time
+they were quite alone.
+
+"It doesn't seem possible that you are the same Dorothy Garrison I
+used to know," he said, reflectively.
+
+"Have I changed so much?" she asked, and there was in her manner an
+icy barrier that would have checked a less confident man than Philip
+Quentin.
+
+"In every way. You were charming in those days."
+
+"And not charming now, I infer."
+
+"You are more than charming now. That is hardly a change, however,
+is it? Then, you were very pretty, now you are beautiful. Then, you
+were--"
+
+"I don't like flattery, Phil," she said, hurt by what she felt to be
+an indifferent effort on his part to please her vanity.
+
+"I am quite sure you remember me well enough to know that I never
+said nice things unless I meant them. But, now that I think of it,
+it is the height of impropriety to speak so plainly even to an old
+friend, and an old--er--chum."
+
+"Won't you have a cup of tea?" she asked, as calmly as if he were
+the merest stranger and had never seen her till this hour.
+
+"A dozen, if it pleases you," he said, laughingly, looking straight
+into the dark eyes she was striving so hard to keep cold and
+unfriendly.
+
+"Then you must come another day," she answered, brightly.
+
+"I cannot come to-morrow," he said.
+
+"I did not say 'to-morrow.'"
+
+"But I'll come on Friday," he went on, decisively. She looked
+concerned for an instant and then smiled.
+
+"Lady Marnham will give you tea on Friday. I shall not be at home,"
+she said.
+
+"But I am going back to New York next week," he said, confidently.
+
+"Next week? Are you so busy?"
+
+"I am not anxious to return, but my man Turk says he hates London.
+He says he'll leave me if I stay here a month. I can't afford to
+lose Turk."
+
+"And he can't afford to lose you. Stay, Phil; the Saxondales are
+such jolly people."
+
+"How about the tea on Friday?"
+
+"Oh, that is no consideration."
+
+"But it is, you know. You used to give me tea every day in the
+week." He saw at once that he had gone beyond the lines, and drew
+back wisely. "Let me come on Friday, and we'll have a good, sensible
+chat."
+
+"On that one condition," she said, earnestly.
+
+"Thank you. Good-bye. I see Lady Frances is ready to go. Evidently I
+have monopolized you to a somewhat thoughtless extent. Everybody is
+looking daggers at me, including the prince, who came in ten minutes
+ago."
+
+He arose and held her hand for a moment at parting. Her swift,
+abashed glance toward Prince Ugo, whose presence she had not
+observed, did not escape his eyes. She looked up and saw the
+peculiar smile on Quentin's lips, and there was deep meaning in her
+next remark to him:
+
+"You will meet the prince here on Friday. I shall ask him to come
+early, that he may learn to know you better."
+
+"Thank you. I'd like to know him better. At what hour is he to
+come?"
+
+"By 3:30, at least," she said, pointedly. "Too early to be correct,
+you suspect?"
+
+"I think not. You may expect me before three. I am not a stickler
+for form."
+
+"We shall not serve tea until four o'clock," she said, coldly.
+
+"That's my hour for tea--just my hour," he said, blithely. She could
+not repress the smile that his old willfulness brought to her lips
+and eyes. "Thank you, for the smile. It was worth struggling for."
+
+He was gone before she could respond, but the smile lingered as her
+eyes followed his tall figure across the room. She saw him pause and
+speak to Prince Ugo, and then pass out with Lady Saxondale. Only
+Lady Saxondale observed the dark gleam in the Italian's eyes as he
+responded to the big American's unconventional greeting. On the way
+home she found herself wondering if Dorothy had ever spoken to the
+prince of Philip Quentin and those tender, foolish days of girlhood.
+
+"Has she lost any of the charm?" she asked.
+
+"I am not quite sure. I'm to find out on Friday."
+
+"Are you going back on Friday?" in surprise.
+
+"To drink tea, you know."
+
+"Did she ask you to come?"
+
+"Can't remember, but I think I suggested it."
+
+"Be careful, Phil; I don't want you to turn Dorothy Garrison's
+head."
+
+"You compliment me by even suspecting that I could. Her head is set;
+it can't be turned. It is set for that beautiful, bejewelled thing
+they call a coronet. Besides, I don't want to turn it."
+
+"I think the prince could become very jealous," she went on,
+earnestly.
+
+"Which would mean stilettos for two, I presume." After a moment's
+contemplative silence he said: "By Jove! she is beautiful, though."
+
+Quentin was always the man to rush headlong into the very thickest
+of whatever won his interest, whether it was the tender encounter of
+the drawing-room or the dangerous conflict of the field.
+
+When he left Lady Marnham's house late on Friday afternoon he was
+more delighted than ever with the girl he had once loved. He was
+with her for nearly an hour before the prince arrived, and he had
+boldly dashed into the (he called them ridiculous) days when she had
+been his little sweetheart, the days when both had sworn with young
+fervor to be true till death. She did not take kindly at first to
+these references to that early, mistaken affection, but his
+persistence won. Before the prince arrived, the American had learned
+how she met him, how he had wooed and won, and how she had inspired
+jealousy in his hot Italian heart by speaking of the "big, handsome
+boy" over in New York.
+
+He secured her permission to join her in the Row on Tuesday. There
+was resistance on her part at first, but he laughed it off.
+
+"You should ask me to your wedding," he said, as the prince came in.
+
+"But you will not be here."
+
+"I've changed my mind," he said, calmly, and then smiled into her
+puzzled eyes. "Brussels, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes; the middle of September," she said, dreamily.
+
+"You'll ask me to come?"
+
+"I should have asked you, anyway."
+
+The two men shook hands. "Sorry I can't stay for tea, Dorothy, but I
+promised Lord Saxondale I'd meet him at four o'clock." He did a
+genuinely American thing as he walked up the street. He whistled a
+lively air.
+
+
+
+
+VII. THE WOMAN FROM PARIS
+
+
+For two weeks Phil Quentin did not allow Dorothy to forget the old
+association, and then came the day of her departure for Paris. Mrs.
+Garrison was by no means reluctant to leave London,--not that she
+disliked the place or the people, but that one Philip Quentin had
+unceremoniously, even gracefully, stepped into the circle of her
+contentment, rudely obliterating its symmetrical, well-drawn lines.
+
+Mr. Quentin had much to overcome if he contemplated an assault upon
+the icy reserve with which Dorothy Garrison's mother regarded his
+genial advances. She recalled the days when her daughter and he were
+"silly, lovesick children," and there was not much comfort to be
+derived from the knowledge that he had grown older and more
+attractive, and that he lost no opportunity to see the girl who once
+held his heart in leash. The mother was too diplomatic to express
+open displeasure or to offer the faintest objection to this renewal
+of friendship. If it were known that she opposed the visits of the
+handsome American, all London would wonder, speculate, and finally
+understand. Her disapproval could only be construed as an
+acknowledgment that she feared the consequences of association; it
+would not be long before the story would be afloat that all was not
+smooth in the love affairs of a certain prince, and that the fires
+of an old affection were burning brightly and merrily in the face of
+a wrathful parent's opposition.
+
+In secret, Dorothy herself was troubled more than she cared to admit
+by the reappearance of one who could not but awaken memories of
+other days, fondly foolish though they were. He was still the same
+old Phil, grown older and handsomer, and he brought with him
+embarrassing recollections. He was nothing more to her now than an
+old-time friend, and she was nothing to him. She loved Ugo
+Ravorelli, and, until he appeared suddenly before her in London,
+Philip Quentin was dead to her thoughts. And yet she felt as if she
+were playing with a fire that would leave its scar--not on her heart
+or Quentin's, perhaps, but on that of the man she was to marry.
+
+It required no great strength of vision to see that Ravorelli was
+jealous, and it was just as plain that Quentin saw and enjoyed the
+uneasiness he was causing. She could not know, of course, that the
+American had deliberately planned to play havoc with the peace and
+comfort of her lover, for she recognized no motive. How could she
+know that Giovanni Pavesi, the tenor, and Prince Ravorelli were one
+and the same to Philip Quentin? How could she know that the
+beautiful Malban was slain in Rio Janeiro, and that Philip Quentin
+had seen a handsome, dark-eyed youth led to and from the murderer's
+dock in that far-away Brazilian city? How, then, could she
+understand the conflict that waged with herself as the battlefield?
+
+As for Quentin, he was bound by no law or duty to respect the
+position of Prince Ravorelli. He was convinced that the sometime
+Romeo had the stain of blood on his delicate hands and that in his
+heart he concealed the secret of Carmenita Malban's death. In his
+mind, there was no mistake. Quentin's composure was shaken but once
+in the fortnight of pleasure preceding Dorothy's departure for
+Paris. That was when she indignantly, almost tearfully, called his
+attention to the squib in a London society journal which rather
+daringly prophesied a "break in the Ravorelli-Garrison match," and
+referred plainly to the renewal of an "across-the-Atlantic
+affection." When he wrathfully promised to thrash the editor of the
+paper, she shocked him by saying that he had created "enough of a
+sensation," and he went home with the dazed feeling of one who has
+suffered an unexpected blow.
+
+On the evening before the Garrisons crossed the channel, Lord and
+Lady Saxondale and Philip Quentin found themselves long after
+midnight in talk about the coming marriage. Quentin was rather
+silent. His thoughts seemed far from the room in which he sat, and
+there was the shadow of a new line about the corners of his mouth.
+
+"I am going to Brussels next week," he said, deliberately. The
+others stared at him in amazement.
+
+"To Brussels? You mean New York," said Lady Frances, faintly.
+
+"New York won't see me for some time. I'm going to make a tour of
+the continent.
+
+"This is going too far, old man," cried Lord Bob. "You can't gain
+anything by following her, and you'll only raise the devil of a row
+all round. Dash it! stay in London."
+
+"Thanks for the invitation, Bob, but I've always had a desire to
+learn something about the miniature Paris. I shall spend some time
+in Paris, and then go up there to compare the places. Besides, there
+won't be any row."
+
+"But there will be, Phil," cried Lady Saxondale. "You must keep out
+of this affair. Why, all Europe knows of the wedding, and even now
+the continent is quietly nursing the gossip of the past two weeks."
+She dropped into a chair, perplexed and anxious.
+
+"Let me tell you something, both of you. The events of the past two
+weeks are tame in comparison with those of the next two months,"
+said Quentin, a new light in his eye. His tall figure straightened
+and his nostrils expanded.
+
+"Wha--what do you mean?" floundered Lord Bob.
+
+"Just this: I love Dorothy Garrison, and I'm going to marry her."
+
+"Good heavens!" was the simultaneous gasp of Lord and Lady
+Saxondale. And they could not dissuade him. Not only did he convince
+them that he was in earnest, but before he left for Paris he had
+made them allies. Ugo's experience in Rio Janeiro shocked Lady
+Frances so seriously that she became a champion of the American's
+cause and agreed with Lord Bob that Dorothy should not be sacrificed
+if it were in their power to prevent. Of course Dickey Savage
+approved of Quentin's campaign and effectually disposed of Lady
+Jane's faint objections by saying:
+
+"America for the Americans, Brussels for the Americans, England for
+the Americans, everything and everybody for the Americans, but
+nothing at all for these confounded foreigners. Let the Italian
+marry anybody he pleases, just so long as he doesn't interfere with
+an American. Let the American marry anybody he pleases, and to
+perdition with all interference. I'm for America against the world
+in love or in war."
+
+"Don't forget, Mr. Savage, that you are a foreigner when on British
+soil," remonstrated the Lady Jane, vigorously.
+
+"My dear Lady Jane, an American is at home anywhere in this world.
+If you could see some of the foreigners that land at Castle Garden
+you wouldn't blame an American for absolutely, irrevocably and
+eternally refusing to be called a foreigner, even on the shores of
+Madagascar. We are willing to be most anything, but I'll be hanged
+if we'll be foreigners."
+
+A week later Quentin was in Paris. Savage was to join him in
+Brussels about the middle of August, and Lord and Lady Saxondale
+promised faithfully to come to that city at a moment's notice. He
+went blithely away with the firm conviction in his heart that it was
+not to be a fool's errand. But he was reckoning without the woman in
+the case.
+
+"If you do marry her, Quentin, I've got just the place for you to
+live in, for a while at least. I bought an old castle in Luxemburg a
+couple of years ago, just because the man who owned it was a friend
+and needed a few thousand pounds. Frances calls it Castle
+Craneycrow. It's a romantic place, and would be a great deal better
+than a cottage for love. You may have it whenever the time comes.
+Nobody lives there now but the caretaker and a lot of deuced
+traditions. We can discharge the caretaker and you can make fresh
+traditions. Think it over, my boy, while you are dispatching the
+prince, the mamma and the fair victim's ambition to become a real
+live princess."
+
+"Don't be sarcastic, Bob," exclaimed Quentin. "I'll not need your
+castle. We're going to live in the clouds."
+
+"Beware of the prince," said Lady Frances. "He is pretty high
+himself, you know."
+
+"Let the prince beware," laughed back the departing guest. "We can't
+both live in the same cloud, you know. I'll push him off."
+
+On the day Quentin left Paris for Brussels he came face to face with
+Prince Ugo on one of the Parisian boulevards. The handsome Italian
+was driving with Count Sallaconi and two very attractive ladies.
+That the meeting was unexpected and undesired was made manifest by
+the anxious look which the prince shot over his shoulder after the
+carriage had passed.
+
+When Quentin left Paris that night with Turk and his luggage, he was
+not the only passenger bound for Brussels. At the Gare du Nord two
+men, one suspiciously like the Duke Laselli, took a compartment in
+the coach just ahead of Quentin. The train was due to reach Brussels
+shortly after midnight, and the American had telegraphed for
+apartments at the Bellevue. There had been a drizzle of rain all the
+evening, and it was good to be inside the car, even if the seats
+were uncomfortable.
+
+Turk and his master were the only passengers in the compartment. The
+watchful eyes of the former had seen several persons, men and women,
+pass through the aisle into which the section opened. One woman
+paused at the entrance as if about to enter. She was fair to look
+upon and Turk gallantly moved, presenting a roomy end of his seat to
+her. She passed on, however, and the little ex-burglar glanced
+sharply at his master as if to accuse him of frightening the fair
+one away. But Quentin was lying back, half-asleep, and there was
+nothing repellent about the untroubled expression on his face.
+
+Before reaching Le Cateau the same lady passed the entrance and
+again glanced inside. Turk was now asleep, but his master was
+staring dreamily toward the aperture leading to the aisle. He saw
+the woman's face for an instant, and it gradually dawned upon him
+that there was something familiar about its beauty. Where had he
+seen her before? Like the curious American he was, he arose a few
+minutes later and deliberately walked into the aisle. He passed two
+compartments before he saw the young woman. She was alone and was
+leaning back, her eyes closed. Quentin observed that she was young
+and beautiful and possessed the marks of fashion and refinement. As
+he stood for a moment looking upon the face of the dozing French
+woman, more certain than ever that he had seen her recently, she
+opened her eyes with an affrighted start.
+
+He instantly and in some embarrassment turned to escape the eyes
+which had caught him in a rare bit of impertinence, but was
+surprised to hear her call softly:
+
+"Monsieur!"
+
+"Mademoiselle," he replied, pausing, "can I be of service to you?"
+
+"I must speak with you, M. Quentin. Come inside. I shall detain you
+but a moment, and it is so very important that you should hear me."
+She was now sitting upright, visibly excited and confused, but very
+much in earnest.
+
+"You know my name," he said, entering and dropping to the seat
+beside her. "Where have we met? Your face is familiar, but I am
+ashamed to admit--"
+
+"We have no time to talk of that. You have never met me, and would
+not know who I am if I told you. Had it not been for that horrid
+little man of yours I should have boldly addressed you sooner. I
+must leave the train at Le Cateau, for I cannot go on to Quevy or
+Mons. It would not be wise for me to leave France at this time. You
+do not know me, but I wish to befriend you."
+
+"Befriend me? I am sure one could not ask for a more charming
+friend," said he, smiling gallantly, but now evincing a shade of
+interest.
+
+"No flattery, Monsieur! It is purely a personal matter with me; this
+is by no means a pleasure trip. I am running a great risk, but it is
+for my own sake as much as for yours, so do not thank me. I came
+from Paris on this train because I could not speak to you at the
+Gare du Nord. You were watched too closely."
+
+"Watched? What do you mean?" almost gasped Quentin.
+
+"I can only say that you are in danger and that you have incurred
+the displeasure of a man who brooks no interference."
+
+He stared at her for a moment, his mind in a whirl. The thought that
+she might be mad grew, but was instantly succeeded by another which
+came like a shock.
+
+"Is this man of noble blood?"
+
+"Yes," she almost whispered, turning her eyes away.
+
+"And he means to do me harm?"
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+"Because?"
+
+"Because he fears your power."
+
+"In what direction?"
+
+"You know without asking, M. Quentin."
+
+"And why do you take this interest in me? I am nothing to you."
+
+"It's because you are not to be treated fairly. Listen. On this
+train are two men who do not know that I am here, and who would be
+confounded if they were to see me. They are in one of the forward
+coaches, and they are emissaries sent on to watch your every
+movement and to report the progress of your--your business in
+Brussels. If you become too aggressive before the man who employs
+them can arrange to come to Brussels, you are to be dealt with in a
+manner effectual. What is to be done with you, I do not know, but I
+am certain you are in great danger unless you--" She paused, and a
+queer expression came into her wide eyes.
+
+"Unless what? You interest me."
+
+"Unless you withdraw from the contest."
+
+"You assume that there is a contest of some sort. Well, admitting
+there is one, I'll say that you may go back to the prince and tell him
+his scheme doesn't work. This story of yours--pardon me, Mademoiselle
+is a clever one, and you have done your part well, but I am not in
+the least alarmed. Kindly return to the man who sent you and ask him
+to come in your stead if he wants to frighten me. I am not afraid of
+women, you know."
+
+"You wrong me, Monsieur; I am not his agent. I am acting purely on
+my own responsibility, for myself alone. I have a personal object in
+warning you, but that is neither here nor there. Let me add that I
+wish you success in the undertaking which now interests you. You
+must believe me, though, when I say that you are in danger.
+Forewarned is forearmed. I do not know what steps are to be taken
+against you; time will expose them. But I do know that you are not
+to win what you seek."
+
+"This is a very strange proceeding," began he, half-convinced of her
+sincerity.
+
+"We are nearing Le Cateau, and I must leave you. The men of whom I
+speak are the Duke Laselli and a detective called Courant. I know
+they are sent to watch you, and they mean you no good. Be careful,
+for God's sake, Monsieur, for I--I--want you to win!" She was standing
+now, and with trembling fingers was adjusting a thick veil over her
+face.
+
+"Why are you so interested in me?" he asked, sharply. "Why do you
+want me to win--to win, well, to win the battle?"
+
+"Because--" she began, but checked herself. A deep blush spread over
+her face just as she dropped the veil.
+
+"The cad!" he said, understanding coming to him like a flash. "There
+is more than one heart at stake."
+
+"Good-bye and good luck, Monsieur," she whispered. He held her hand
+for an instant as she passed him, then she was gone.
+
+Mile after mile from Le Cateau to Quevy found him puzzling over the
+odd experience of the night. Suddenly he started and muttered, half
+aloud:
+
+"By thunder, I remember now! It was she who sat beside him in the
+carriage this morning!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII. THE FATE OF A LETTER
+
+
+At Quevy the customs officers went through the train, and Quentin
+knew that he was in Belgium. For some time he had been weighing in
+his mind the advisability of searching the train for a glimpse of
+the duke and his companion, doubtful as to the sincerity of the
+beautiful and mysterious stranger. It was not until the train
+reached Mons that he caught sight of the duke. He had started out
+deliberately at last to hunt for the Italian, and the latter
+evidently had a similar design. They met on the platform and, though
+it was quite dark, each recognized the other. The American was on
+the point of addressing the duke when that gentleman abruptly turned
+and reentered the train, one coach ahead of that occupied by
+Quentin, who returned to his compartment and proceeded to awaken the
+snoring man-servant. Without reserve he confided to Turk the whole
+story of the night up to that point.
+
+"I don't know what their game is, Turk, but we must not be caught
+napping. We have a friend in the pretty woman who got off in the
+rain at Le Cateau. She loves the prince, and that's why she's with
+us."
+
+"Say, did she look's if she had royal blood in her? Mebby she's a
+queen er somethin' like that. Blow me, if a feller c'n tell w'at
+sort of a swell he's goin' up ag'inst over here. Dukes and lords are
+as common as cabbies are in New York. Anyhow, this duke ain't got no
+bulge on us. We're nex' to him, all right, all right. Shall I crack
+him on the knot when we git to this town we're goin' to? A good jolt
+would put him out o' d' business fer a spell--"
+
+"Now, look here, young man; don't let me hear of you making a move
+in this affair till I say the word. You are to keep your mouth
+closed and your hands behind you. What I want you to do is to watch,
+just as they are doing. Your early training ought to stand you well
+in hand for this game. I believe you once said you had eyes in the
+back of your head."
+
+"Eyes, nothin'! They is microscopes, Mr. Quentin."
+
+Quentin, during the remainder of the run to Brussels, turned the new
+situation over and over in his mind. That the prince was ready to
+acknowledge him as a dangerous rival gave him much satisfaction and
+inspired the hope that Miss Garrison had given her lover some cause
+for alarm. The decisive movement on the part of Prince Ugo to
+forestall any advantage he might acquire while near her in Brussels
+was a surprise and something of a shock to him. It was an admission,
+despite his position and the pledge he had from the girl herself,
+that the Italian did not feel secure in the premises, and was
+willing to resort to trickery, if not villainy, to circumvent the
+American who knew him in other days. Phil felt positive that the
+move against him was the result of deliberate intent, else how
+should his fair friend of the early evening know that a plot was
+brewing? Unquestionably she had heard or learned of the prince's
+directions to the duke. Her own interest in the prince was, of
+course, the inspiration. To no one but herself could she entrust the
+delivery of the warning. Her agitated wish, openly expressed, that
+Quentin might win the contest had a much deeper meaning than would
+appear on the surface.
+
+From the moment he received the warning the affair began to take on
+a new aspect. Aside from the primal fact that he was desperately in
+love with Dorothy Garrison, there was now the fresh incentive that
+he must needs win her against uncertain odds and in the face of
+surprising opposition. In this day and age of the world, in affairs
+of the heart, an American does not look for rivalry that bears the
+suggestion of medieval romance. The situation savored too much of
+the story-books that are born of the days when knights held sway, to
+appear natural in the eyes of an up-to-date, unromantic gentleman
+from New York, that city where love affairs adjust themselves
+without the aid of a novelist.
+
+Quentin, of course, was loath to believe that Prince Ugo would
+resort to underhand means to checkmate a rival whose real purpose
+had not yet been announced. In six weeks the finest wedding in years
+was to occur in Brussels. St. Gudule, that historic cathedral, was
+to be the scene of a ceremony on which all European newspapers had
+the eye of comment. American papers had printed columns concerning
+the engagement of the beautiful Miss Garrison. Everywhere had been
+published the romantic story of this real love match. What, then,
+should the prince fear?
+
+The train rumbled into the station at Brussels near midnight, and
+Turk sallied forth for a cab. This he obtained without the usual
+amount of haggling on his part, due to the disappointing fact that
+the Belgian driver could understand nothing more than the word
+Bellevue, while Turk could interpret nothing more than the word
+franc. As Quentin was crossing to the cab he encountered Duke
+Laselli. Both started, and, after a moment's pause, greeted each
+other.
+
+"I thought I saw you at Mons," said Phil, after the first
+expressions of surprise.
+
+"Yes; I boarded the train there. Some business called me to Mons
+last week. And you, I presume, like most tourists, are visiting a
+dozen cities in half as many days," said the duke, in his execrable
+English. They paused at the side of the Italian's conveyance, and
+Quentin mentally resolved that the dim light, as it played upon the
+face of the speaker, was showing to him the most repellent
+countenance he had ever looked upon.
+
+"Oh. no," he answered, quickly, "I shall probably remain until after
+the marriage of my friend, Miss Garrison, and Prince Ugo. Are you to
+be here long?"
+
+"I cannot say," answered the other, his black eyes fastened on
+Quentin's, "My business here is of an uncertain nature."
+
+"Diplomatic, I infer?"
+
+"It would not be diplomatic for me to say so. I suspect I shall see
+you again, Mr. Quentin."
+
+"Doubtless; I am to be at the Bellevue."
+
+"And I, also. We may see some of the town together."
+
+"You are very kind," said Quentin, bowing deeply. "Do you travel
+alone?"
+
+"The duchess is ill and is in Florence. I am so lonely without her."
+
+"It's beastly luck for business to carry one away from a sick wife.
+By the way, how is my dear friend, Prince Ugo?"
+
+"Exceptionally well, thank you. He will be pleased to know you are
+here, for he is coming to Brussels next week. I think, if you will
+pardon me, he has taken quite a fancy to you."
+
+"I trust, after longer acquaintance, he may not find me a
+disappointment," said Phil warmly, and a faint look of curiosity
+flashed into the duke's eyes. As they were saying good-night,
+Quentin looked about for the man who might be Courant, the
+detective. But the duke's companion was not to be seen.
+
+The next morning Quentin proceeded in a very systematic and
+effective way to locate the home of the Garrisons. He was aware, in
+the beginning, that they lived in a huge, beautiful mansion
+somewhere in the Avenue Louise. He knew from his Baedeker that the
+upper town was the fashionable quarter, and that the Avenue Louise
+was one of the principal streets. An electric tramcar took him
+speedily through the Boulevards Regent and Waterloo to the Avenue
+Louise. A strange diffidence had prevented him from asking at the
+hotel for directions that would easily have discovered her home.
+Somehow he wanted to stroll along the avenue in the early morning
+and locate the home of Dorothy Garrison without other aid than the
+power which tells one when he is near the object of his adoration.
+He left the car at the head of the avenue and walked slowly along
+the street.
+
+His mind was full of her. Every vehicle that passed attracted his
+gaze, for he speculated that she might be in one of them. Not a
+well-dressed woman came within the range of his vision but she was
+subjected to a hurried inspection, even from a distance. He strode
+slowly along, looking intently at each house. None of them seemed to
+him to hold the object of his search. As his steps carried him
+farther and farther into the beautiful avenue he began to smile to
+himself and his plodding spirit wavered. After all, thought he, no
+one but a silly ass would attempt to find a person in a great city
+after the fashion he was pursuing. He was deciding to board a
+tramcar and return to the hotel when, at some distance ahead, he saw
+a young lady run hurriedly down the steps of an impressive looking
+house.
+
+He recognized Dorothy Garrison, and with a thump of exultation his
+heart urged him across the street toward her. She evidently had not
+seen him; her eyes were on the ground and she seemed preoccupied. In
+her hand she held a letter. A gasp of astonishment, almost of alarm,
+came from her lips, her eyes opened wide in that sort of surprise
+which reveals something like terror, and then she crumpled the
+letter in her hand spasmodically.
+
+"I thought you lived down here somewhere," he exclaimed, joyfully,
+seizing her hand. "'I knew I could find you."
+
+"I--I am so glad to see you," she stammered, with a brave effort to
+recover from the shock his appearance had created. "What are you
+doing here, Phil?"
+
+"Looking for you, Dorothy. Shall I post your letter?"
+
+She was still standing as if rooted to the spot, the letter in a sad
+plight.
+
+"Oh, I'll not--not post it now. I should have sent the footman. Come
+with me and see mamma. I know she will be glad to have you here,"
+she hurried, in evident confusion. She bethought herself suddenly
+and made an effort to withdraw the letter from its rather
+conspicuous position. The hand containing it was drawn behind her
+back.
+
+"That will be very nice of her. Better post the letter, though.
+Somebody's expecting it, you know. Hullo! That's not a nice way to
+treat a letter. Let me straighten it out for you.''
+
+"Never mind, Phil--really, I don't care about it. You surprised me so
+tremendously that I fear I've ruined it. Now I shall have to write
+another."
+
+"Fiddlesticks! Send it as it is. The prince will blame the
+postoffice people," cried he.
+
+"It is not for the prince," she cried, quickly, and then became more
+confused than ever. "Come to the house, Phil. You must tell me how
+you happen to be here."
+
+As they walked slowly to the Garrison home and mounted the steps,
+she religiously held the epistle where he could not regard it too
+closely should his curiosity overcome his prudence. They were
+ushered into the reception room, and she directed the footman to ask
+if Mrs. Garrison could see Mr. Quentin.
+
+"Now, tell me all about it," she said, taking a chair quite across
+the big room.
+
+"There's nothing to tell," he said. "I am in Brussels, and I thought
+I'd hunt you up."
+
+"But why didn't you write or wire me that you were coming? You
+haven't acted much like a friend," she said, pointedly.
+
+"Perhaps I wrote and never mailed the letter. Remember your
+experience just now. You still hold the unlucky note in your hand.
+Sometimes we think better of our intentions at the very instant when
+they are going into effect. It is very mysterious to me that you
+wouldn't mail that letter. I can only believe that you changed your
+mind when you saw me."
+
+"How absurd! As if seeing you could have anything to do with it!"
+
+"You ought to tell me if my appearance here is liable to alter any
+plan that letter is intended to perfect. Don't let me be an
+inconvenience. You know I'd rather be anything than an inconvenience."
+
+"It doesn't matter in the least; really, it doesn't. Your coming--"
+
+The footman appeared on the landing above at that instant and said
+something to her in a language Quentin could not understand. He
+afterward heard it was French. And he always had thought himself a
+pretty fair French scholar, too.
+
+"Mamma has asked for me, Phil. Will you pardon me if I leave you
+alone for a moment?" she said, arising and starting toward the grand
+stairway. The letter, which she had forgotten for the moment, fell
+from her lap to the rug. In an instant he had stepped forward to
+pick it up. As he stooped she realized what had happened, and, with
+a frantic little cry, stooped also. Their heads were close together,
+but his hand was the first to touch the missive. It lay with the
+address upward, plain to the eye; he could not help seeing the name.
+
+It was addressed to "Philip Quentin, Esq., care of the Earl of
+Saxondale, Park Lane, London, W. S." Surprise stayed his fingers,
+and hers clutched the envelope ruthlessly. As they straightened
+themselves each was looking directly into the other's eyes. In hers
+there was shame, confusion, even guilt; in his, triumphant,
+tantalizing mirth.
+
+"My letter, please," he said, his voice trembling, he knew not why.
+His hand was extended. She drew suddenly away and a wave of scarlet
+crossed her face.
+
+"What a stupid I was to drop it," she cried, almost tearfully. Then
+she laughed as the true humor of the situation made itself felt in
+spite of consequences. "Isn't it too funny for anything?"
+
+"I can't see anything funny in tampering with the mails. You have my
+letter, and I hope it won't be necessary for me to call in the
+officers of the law."
+
+"You don't expect me to give it to you?" she cried, holding it
+behind her.
+
+"Most assuredly. If you don't, I'll ask Mrs. Garrison to command you
+to do so," he threatened, eagerly. He would have given his head to
+read the contents of the letter that caused her so much concern. All
+sorts of conjectures were racing through his brain.
+
+"Oh, please don't do that!" she begged, and he saw real supplication
+in her eyes. "I wouldn't give you the letter for the world, and
+I--I--well, don't you see that I am embarrassed?"
+
+"Give me the letter," he commanded, Sternly.
+
+"Do you wish me to hate you?" she blazed.
+
+"'Heaven forbid!"
+
+"Then forget that your name is on this--this detestable envelope,"
+she cried, tearing the missive into pieces. He looked on in wonder,
+chagrin, disappointment.
+
+"By George, Dorothy, that's downright cruel. It was intended for
+me--"
+
+"You should thank me. I have only saved you the trouble of
+destroying it," she said, smiling.
+
+"I would have kept it forever," he said, fervently.
+
+"Here's a small bit of the envelope which you may keep as a
+souvenir. See, it has your name--'Philip'--on it. You shall have that
+much of the letter." He took it rather gracelessly and, deliberately
+opening his watch, placed it inside the case. "I'd give $10,000 to
+know what that letter had to say to me."
+
+"You can never know," she said, defiantly, from the bottom of the
+steps, "for I have forgotten the contents myself."
+
+She laughed as she ran upstairs, but he detected confusion in the
+tone, and the faint flush was still on her cheek. He sat down and
+wondered whether the contents would have pleased or displeased him.
+Philosophically he resolved that as long as he was never to know he
+might just as well look at it from a cheerful point of view; he
+would be pleased.
+
+
+
+
+IX. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
+
+
+It would be difficult to define the emotions that consumed Miss
+Garrison as she entered her mother's boudoir. She could not conceal
+from herself the sensation of jubilant delight because he had come
+to Brussels. At the same time, even though his visit was that of a
+mere friend, it promised complications which she was loath to face.
+She went into the presence of her mother with the presentiment that
+the first of the series was at hand.
+
+"What is Philip Quentin doing here, Dorothy?" demanded Mrs.
+Garrison. She was standing in the center of the room, and her
+attitude was that of one who has experienced a very unpleasant
+surprise. The calm, cold tone was not far from accusing; her steely
+eyes were hard and uncompromising. The tall daughter stood before
+her, one hand still clutching the bits of white paper; on her face
+there was the imprint of demure concern.
+
+"I haven't had time to ask him, mamma," she said, lightly, "Would it
+be quite the proper thing to demand the reason for his presence here
+when it seems quite clear that he is paying us a brief morning
+call?"
+
+"Do not be absurd! I mean, what is he doing in Brussels? Didn't he
+say he was to return to New York last week?" There was refined
+belligerence in her voice. Dorothy gave a brief thought to the cool,
+unabashed young man below and smiled inwardly as she contemplated
+the reception he was to receive from this austere interrogator.
+
+"Don't ask me, mamma, I am as much puzzled as you over his sudden
+advent. It is barely possible he did not go to New York."
+
+"Well, why didn't he?" This was almost a threat.
+
+"It is a mystery we have yet to unravel. Shall we send for Sherlock
+Holmes?"
+
+"Dorothy, I am very serious. How can you make light of this
+unwarranted intrusion? He is--"
+
+"Why do you call it intrusion, mamma? Has he not the right to come?
+Can we close the door in his face? Is he not a friend? Can we help
+ourselves if he knocks at our door and asks to see us?" Dorothy felt
+a smart tug of guilt as she looked back and saw herself trudging
+sheepishly up the front steps beside the intruder, who had not been
+permitted to knock at the door.
+
+"A gentleman would not subject you to the comments of--of--well, I may
+say the whole world. He certainly saw the paragraphs in those London
+papers, and he knows that we cannot permit them to be repeated over
+here. He has no right to thrust himself upon us under the
+circumstances. You must give him to understand at once, Dorothy,
+that his intentions--or visits, if you choose to call them such--are
+obnoxious to both of us."
+
+"Oh, mamma! we've talked all this over before. What can I do? I
+wouldn't offend him for the world, and I am sure he is incapable of
+any desire to have me talked about, He knows me and he likes me too
+well for that. Perhaps he will go away soon," said Dorothy,
+despairing petulance in her voice, Secretly she was conscious of the
+justice in her mother's complaints.
+
+"He shall go soon," said Mrs. Garrison, with determination.
+
+"You will not--will not drive him away?" said her daughter, quickly.
+
+"I shall make him understand that you are not the foolish child he
+knew in New York. You are about to become a princess. He shall be
+forced to see the impregnable wall between himself and the Princess
+Ravorelli--for you are virtually the owner of that glorious title. A
+single step remains and then you are no longer Dorothy Garrison.
+Philip Quentin I have always disliked, even mistrusted. His
+reputation in New York was that of a man of the town, a rich
+roisterer, a 'breaker of hearts,' as your uncle has often called
+him. He is a daring notoriety seeker, and this is rare sport for
+him." Mrs. Garrison's eyes were blazing, her hands were clenched,
+her bearing that of one who is both judge and executioner.
+
+"I think you do him an injustice," said Dorothy, slowly, a feeling
+of deep resentment asserting itself. "Philip is not what you call
+him. He is a gentleman." Mother and daughter looked into each
+other's eyes squarely for a moment, neither flinching, both
+justifying themselves for the positions they were to take.
+
+"You defend him?"
+
+"As he would defend me."
+
+"You have another man to defend. Do you think of him?"
+
+"You have yet to say that Ugo is no gentleman. It will then be time
+for defense, such as I am offering now."
+
+"We are keeping your friend waiting, Dorothy," said Mrs. Garrison,
+with blasting irony. "Give him my compliments and say that we trust
+he may come every day. He affords us a subject for pleasant
+discussion, and I am sure Prince Ugo will be as charmed to meet him
+here as he was in London."
+
+"Don't be sarcastic, mamma. It doesn't help matters and--" began
+Dorothy, almost plaintively.
+
+"Mr. Quentin certainly does not help matters, my dear. Still, if you
+will enjoy the comment, the notoriety that he may be generous enough
+to share with you, I can say no more. When you are ready to dismiss
+him, you shall find me your ally." She was triumphant because she
+had scored with sarcasm a point where reason must have fallen far
+short.
+
+"I might tell Rudolf to throw him into the street," said Dorothy,
+dolefully, "only I am quite positive Phil would refuse to be thrown
+by less than three Rudolfs. But he is expecting you downstairs,
+mamma. He asked for you."
+
+"I cannot see him to-day. Tell him I shall be only too glad to see
+him if he calls again," and there was a deep, unmistaken meaning in
+the way she said it.
+
+"You will not go down?" Dorothy's face flushed with something akin
+to humiliation. After all, he did not deserve to be treated like a
+dog.
+
+"I am quite content upstairs," replied Mrs. Garrison, sweetly.
+
+Dorothy turned from her mother without another word, and as she went
+down the stairs there was rebellion in her soul; the fires of
+resistance showed their first tiny tongues in the hot wave that
+swept through her being. Quentin was stretched out comfortably in a
+big chair, his back toward the stairs, his eyes upon the busy avenue
+below. She paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs and there
+was a strange longing to pass her fingers over the thick dark hair.
+The thought passed instantaneously, but there was a new shyness in
+her manner as she approached.
+
+"Hullo," he said, arising as he heard her footfall. "Been watching
+the people drive by. Pretty smart traps, some of them, too. The old
+families that came over in the Ark with Moses--er, Noah, I should
+say." There was deep concern in the remark, but she was confident
+that he vaguely understood why she was alone.
+
+"Mamma trusts you will excuse her this morning. She says she will be
+glad to see you when you come again." She seated herself on a divan
+near the window, a trifle out of the glaring light of the August
+sun. She held in her hand a fan and the bits of paper had
+disappeared. "Isn't it dreadfully warm?"
+
+"Looks like rain, too," said he, briefly. Then, with new animation:
+"Tell me, what was in that letter?"
+
+"Nothing but nonsense," she replied, smiling serenely, for she was
+again a diplomat.
+
+"How dare you! How dare you write nonsense to me? But, really, I'd
+like to know what it was. You'll admit I have a right to be
+curious."
+
+"It pleases me to see you curious. I believe it is the first time I
+ever saw you interested in anything. Quite novel, I assure you."
+
+"Don't you mean to tell me?"
+
+"Assuredly--not."
+
+"Well, I think it's a roaring shame to write anything to a fellow
+that he can't be allowed to read. I wouldn't treat you that way."
+
+"I know you wouldn't. You are too good, and too sensible, and too
+considerate, and all the other kind of too's, while I am just an
+unaccountable ninny. If you ever did anything crazy you wouldn't
+like to have it found out, would you?"
+
+"By all means! Then I could take treatment for the malady. Lean
+forward, Dorothy, so that I can see your eyes. That's right! Now,
+look at me squarely. Will you tell me what was in that letter?" She
+returned his gaze steadily, almost mockingly.
+
+"No."
+
+"That's all I want to know. I can always tell by a girl's eyes
+whether she is stubborn."
+
+"I am not stubborn."
+
+"Well, I'll drop the matter for all time. Doubtless you were right
+when you said it was nonsense; you ought to know. Changing the
+subject, I think I'll like Brussels if I stay here long enough." He
+was again nonchalant, indifferent. Under her mask of unconcern she
+felt a trifle piqued that he did not persist in his endeavor to
+learn the contents of the unfortunate letter.
+
+"How long do you expect--I mean purpose to stay?" she asked.
+
+"It depends on conditions. I may be crazy enough to stay six weeks
+and I may be crazy enough to go away next week. You see, I'm not
+committing myself to any specified degree of insanity; it won't make
+so much difference when I am found out, as you say. At present,
+however, I contemplate staying until that affair at St. Gudule."
+
+She could not hide the annoyance, the discomfiture, his assertion
+inspired. In a second she saw endless unpleasantries--some
+pleasantries, it is fair to say--and there seemed to be no gentle way
+of escape. At the same time, there came once more the queer flutter
+she had felt when she met him in the street, a half-hour before.
+
+"You will find it rather dull here, I am afraid," she found courage
+to say. "Or do you know many people--the American minister,
+perhaps?"
+
+"Don't know a soul here but you and Mrs. Garrison. It won't be
+dull--not in the least. We'll ride and drive, go ballooning or
+anything you like--"
+
+"But I can't, Phil. Do you forget that I am to be married in six
+weeks?" she cried, now frightened into an earnest appeal.
+
+"That's it, precisely. After that you can't go ballooning with
+anybody but the prince, so for at least a month you can have a good
+time telling me what a jolly good fellow he is. That's what girls
+like, you know, and I don't mind in the least. If you want to talk
+about him by the hour, I won't utter an objection. Of course, I
+suppose you'll be pretty busy with your trousseau and so forth, and
+you'll have the house full of visitors, too, no doubt. But you can
+give me a little time."
+
+"I am sure mamma would not--"
+
+"She never did approve, if that's what you were about to say. What
+is she afraid of? Does she imagine that I want to marry you? Good
+heavens!" So devout was his implied denial of such a project that
+she felt herself grow hot. "Doesn't she think the prince has you
+safely won? You are old enough to take care of yourself, I'm sure."
+
+"She knows that I love Prince Ugo, and that he is the only man I
+shall ever love. Her disapproval would arise from the needless
+exposure to comment. You remember what the London paper said about
+us." If she thought that he was chilled by her bold opening
+assertion she was to find herself mistaken. He smiled complacently.
+
+"I thought it was very nice of them. I am preserving the clipping,"
+he said, airily. "We can talk over this little difficulty with
+public opinion when we've had more time to think about it. You see,
+I've been here but ten hours, and I may be willing to leave
+tomorrow, that is, after I've seen more of the town. I may not like
+the king, and I'm quite sure the palace doesn't suit me. I'll come
+around to-morrow and we'll drive through one of these famous parks--"
+
+"Oh, no, Phil! Really, you don't know how it embarrasses me--"
+
+"I'll go away to-night, if you say you don't want to see me at all,
+Dorothy," he said, seriously, rising and standing before her.
+
+"I don't mean that. You know I want to see you--for old times' sake."
+
+"I shall go, nevertheless, if you merely hint that I am unwelcome."
+She arose and suddenly gave him her hand.
+
+"You are not unwelcome, and you are foolish to speak in that
+manner," she said, seriously.
+
+"And your mother?"
+
+"She must endure what I endure."
+
+"Somewhere Baedeker says that the Bois de la Cambre is the finest
+park in Brussels," said he, his eyes gleaming.
+
+"I am quite sure Baedeker is reliable," she agreed, with a smile.
+
+"At three o'clock to-morrow afternoon, then, I will come for you.
+Will you remember me to your mother and tell her I am sorry not to
+see her to-day? Good-bye!"
+
+She followed him to the door, and when he sped lightly down the
+steps there was a broad smile on the face of each. He turned and
+both laughed outright. "Where there's a will, there's a way," she
+mused, as she went to her room upstairs. An hour later her daily
+letter to the prince was ready for the post. The only allusion to
+the visitor of the morning was: "Mr. Quentin--our New York friend,
+you will remember--made us a brief call this morning. He is quite
+undecided as to the length of his stay here, but I hope you will be
+here to see him."
+
+Then, dismissing Quentin from her mind, she sat down to dream of the
+one great event in her life--this wonderful, glorious wedding in old
+St. Gudule's. Already her trousseau was on a fair way to completion.
+She gave no thought to the fortune that these gowns were to cost,
+she considered not the glories she was to reap by becoming a real
+princess, she dwelt not on the future before her, for she knew she
+was to be happy with Ugo. Instead, she dreamed only of the "color
+scheme" that was to make memorable her wedding procession.
+
+In her mind's eye she saw the great church thronged with the most
+brilliant, illustrious assemblage it had ever held (she was quite
+sure no previous gathering could have been more august), and a smile
+of pride came to her lips. The great chorus, the procession, the
+lights, the incomprehensible combination of colors, the chancel, the
+flowers, her wedding gown, and Ugo's dark, glowing face rushed in
+and out of her vision as she leaned back in her chair and--almost
+forgot to breathe. The thought of Ugo grew and grew; she closed her
+eyes and saw him at her side as they walked proudly from the altar
+with the good bishop's blessing and the song of the choir in their
+ears, the swelling of love in their souls. So vivid became the dream
+of his presence that she could almost feel his hand touching hers:
+she felt her eyes turn toward him, with all that great crowd
+watching, and her heart quivered with passion as his dark, happy
+eyes burnt through to her very soul. Somehow she heard distinctly
+the whisper, "My wife!"
+
+Suddenly a strange chill came over this idle, happy dream, and she
+opened her eyes with a start, Ugo's face fading away like a flash.
+The thought had rushed in like a stab from a dagger. Would Philip
+Quentin be there, and would he care? Would he care?
+
+
+
+
+X. TWO IN A TRAP
+
+
+
+"Th' juke sent his card up, sir," said Turk, his master was once
+more in his rooms at the Bellevue. Turk was looking eminently
+respectable in a new suit of blue serge.
+
+"When?" asked Phil, glancing at Laselli's card. He had forgotten the
+Italian, and the sight of his name recalled the plot unpleasantly.
+
+"'Bout eleven o'clock. I watched him leave th' hotel an' go down
+that street over there--th' same one you took a little earlier."
+
+"Watching me, I suspect. Haven't seen that detective fellow, have
+you, Turk? You ought to be able to scent a detective three miles
+away."
+
+"I can't scent in this language, sir."
+
+Early in the evening, as Quentin was leaving the hotel for a short
+stroll, he met the duke. The Italian accosted him familiarly and
+asked if he were trying to find a cool spot.
+
+"I thought a ride on the tramcars might cool me off a bit,'" said
+Phil.
+
+"I know the city quite well, and I, too, am searching for relief
+from the heat. Do you object to company in your ride or stroll?"
+
+"Happy to have you, I assure you. If you'll be good enough to wait
+here for a moment, till I find my stick, I'll be with you." The duke
+bowed politely, and Phil hastened back to his rooms. He secured his
+stick, and did more. Like a wise young man, he bethought himself of
+a possible trap, and the quest of the stick gave him the opportunity
+to instruct Turk to follow him and the duke and to be where he was
+needed in case of an emergency.
+
+The tall, fresh-faced American in his flannels, and the short,
+bearded Italian in his trim frock coat and silk hat strolled
+leisurely forth into the crowded Place du Palais.
+
+"Shall we walk awhile and then find a cafe where we may have
+something to drink?" asked the duke, his English so imperfect that
+no writer could reproduce it.
+
+"I am in your hands, and at your mercy," said the other, clinging
+close to him as they merged into the crowd.
+
+"May I ask if you have many friends in Brussels?" Under the
+politeness of the inquiry Quentin, with amusement, saw the real
+interest. Looking calmly into the Italian's beady eyes, he said:
+
+"I know but four persons here, and you are included in the list. My
+servant is another. Mrs. and Miss Garrison are old and particular
+friends, you know. In fact, my dear duke, I don't believe I should
+have come to Brussels at all were they not here."
+
+"They are most charming and agreeable," murmured the duke. "This is
+such a frightful crowd Shall we not cross to the other side?"
+
+"What's the use? I used to play football--you don't know what that
+is, I suppose--and I'll show you how to get through a mob. Get in
+front--that's right--and I'll bring up in the rear." Laughing to
+himself, he brought his big frame up against the little man's back
+and surged forward. Sure enough, they went "through the mob," but
+the duke was the volley end of the battering ram. Never in all his
+life had he made such hurried and seemingly unnecessary progress
+through a blockading crowd of roisterers. When they finally went
+lunging into the half-deserted Rue de la Madeleine, his silk hat was
+awry, his composure was ruffled, and he was very much out of breath.
+Phil, supremely at ease, heaved a sigh of satisfaction, drawing from
+the Italian a half-angry, half-admiring glance.
+
+"Much easier than I thought," said Quentin, puffing quietly at his
+cigar.
+
+"We did it very nicely," agreed the other, with a brave effort to
+equal the American's unconcern. Nevertheless, he said to himself
+many times before they reached the broad Boulevard Anspach, that
+never had he taken such "a stroll," and never had he known how
+little difference there was between a steam and a human propeller.
+He almost forgot, as they sat at a small, table in front of a cafe,
+to institute his diplomatic search for the real object of the
+American's presence in Brussels.
+
+It was twelve o'clock when they returned to the hotel, after a
+rather picturesque evening in the gay cafes.
+
+Here is what the keen little Italian deduced: Quentin was to remain
+in Brussels until he took a notion to go somewhere else; Quentin had
+seen the prince driving on the Paris boulevards; the Bois de la
+Cambre offers every attraction to a man who enjoys driving; the
+American slept with a revolver near his pillow, and his manservant
+had killed six or seven men in the United States because of his
+marvellous skill with the pistol; Quentin was a most unsophisticated
+young man, with honesty and innocence in his frank eyes, although
+they sometimes grew rather searching; he could only be overcome by
+cunning; he was in love with Miss Garrison.
+
+Quentin's conclusions: Laselli was a liar and an ass; Prince Ugo
+would be in Brussels within ten days; he was careless with the
+hearts of women and cruel with their love; French detectives are the
+best in the world, the most infallible; Miss Garrison loved the very
+ground the prince trod upon. He also discovered that the duke could
+drink wine as a fish drinks water, and that he seldom made overtures
+to pay for it until his companion had the money in hand, ready to do
+so.
+
+Turk was waiting for him when he reached his rooms, and Turk was not
+amiable. A very attractive, innocent and demure young lady, who
+could not speak English except with her hands and eyes, had relieved
+him of a stickpin and his watch while he sat with her at a table not
+far from the man he was protecting with his vaunted "eagle eye."
+
+"An' she swiped 'em right under me nose, an' me eyes square on her,
+too. These people are too keen for me. They ain't a fairy in New
+York that could 'a' touched me without d' dope, lemme tell you. I
+t'ought I knowed a t'ing er two, but I don't know buttons from
+fishhooks. I'm d' easiest t'ing 'at ever went to Sunday school."
+
+It was with a flushed, rebellious face that Miss Garrison stepped
+into the victoria the next afternoon for the drive to the Bois de la
+Cambre. She had come from a rather trying tilt with her mother, and,
+as they drove off between the rows of trees, she felt that a pair of
+flaming eyes were levelled from a certain upstairs window in the
+Avenue Louise. The Biblical admonition to "honor thy father and thy
+mother" had not been entirely disregarded by this willful young
+lady, but it had been stretched to an unusual limit for the
+occasion. She felt that she was very much imposed upon by
+circumstances in the shape of an unreasonable mother and an
+inconvenient friend.
+
+Mr. Quentin, more in love than ever, and more deeply inspired by the
+longing to win where reason told him he must fail, did not flatter
+himself into believing that Mrs. Garrison wholly approved of the
+drive. Instead, he surmised from the beginning that Dorothy's
+flushed cheeks were not from happiness, but from excitement, and
+that he was not altogether a shadowy cause. With rare tact he
+plunged at once to the bottom of the sea of uncertainty and began to
+struggle upward to the light, preferring such a course to the one
+where you start at the top, go down and then find yourself powerless
+to get back to the surface.
+
+"Was your mother very much annoyed when you said you were coming out
+with me?" he asked. She started and a queer little tinge of
+embarrassment sprang into her eyes.
+
+"How absurd!" she said, readily, however. "Isn't the avenue
+beautiful?"
+
+"I don't know--yet," he said, without looking at the avenue. "What
+did she say?" Miss Garrison did not reply, but looked straight ahead
+as if she had not heard him. "See here, Dorothy, I'm not a child and
+I'm not a lovesick fool. Just curious, that's all. Your mother has
+no cause to be afraid of me--"
+
+"You flatter yourself by imagining such a thing as--"
+
+"--because there isn't any more danger that I shall fall in love
+with you than there is of--of--well, of your falling in love with me;
+and you know how improbable--"
+
+"I don't see any occasion to refer to love in any way," she said,
+icily. "Mamma certainly does not expect me to do such an
+extraordinary thing. If you will talk sensibly, Phil, we may enjoy
+the drive, but if you persist in talking of affairs so ridiculous--"
+
+"I can't say that I expect you to fall in love with me, so for once
+your mother and I agree. Nevertheless, she didn't want you to come
+with me," he said, absolutely undisturbed.
+
+"How do you know she didn't?" she demanded, womanlike. Then, before
+she was quite aware of it, they were in a deep and earnest
+discussion of Mrs. Garrison, and her not very complimentary views.
+
+"And how do you feel about this confounded prospect, Dorothy? You
+are not afraid of what a few gossips--noble or otherwise--may say
+about a friendship that is entirely the business of two people and
+not the property of the general public? If you feel that I am in the
+way I'll gladly go, you know. Of course, I'd rather hate to miss
+seeing you once in a while, but I think I'd have the courage to--"
+
+"Oh, it's not nice of you to be sarcastic," she cried, wondering,
+however, whether he really meant "gladly" when he said it. Somehow
+she felt herself admitting that she was piqued by his apparent
+readiness to abdicate. She did not know that he was cocksure of his
+ground before making the foregoing and other observations equally as
+indifferent.
+
+"I'm not sarcastic; quite the reverse. I'm very serious. You know
+how much I used to think of you--"
+
+"But that was long ago, and you were such a foolish boy," she cried,
+interrupting nervously.
+
+"Yes, I know; a boy must have his foolish streaks. How a fellow
+changes as he gets older, and how he looks back and laughs at the
+fancies he had when a boy. Same way with a girl, though, I suppose."
+He said it so calmly, so naturally that she took a sly peep at his
+face. It revealed nothing but blissful imperturbability.
+
+"I'm glad you agree with me. You see, I've always thought you were
+horribly broken up when I--when I found that I also was indulging in
+a foolish streak. I believe I came to my senses before you did,
+though, and saw how ridiculous it all was. Children do such queer
+things, don't they?" It was his turn to take a sly peep, and his
+spirits went down a bit under the pressure of her undisguised
+frankness.
+
+"How lucky it was we found it out before we ran away with each
+other, as we once had the nerve to contemplate. Gad, Dorothy, did
+you ever stop to think what a mistake it would have been?" She was
+bowing to some people in a brougham, and the question was never
+answered. After a while he went on, going back to the original
+subject. "I shall see Mrs. Garrison to-night and talk it over with
+her. Explain to her, you know, and convince her that I don't in the
+least care what the gossips say about me. I believe I can live it
+all down, if they do say I am madly, hopelessly in love with the
+very charming fiancee of an Italian prince."
+
+"You have me to reckon with, Phil; I am the one to consider and the
+one to pass judgment. You may be able to appease mamma, but it is I
+who will determine whether it is to be or not to be. Let us drop the
+subject. For the present, we are having a charming drive. Is it not
+beautiful?"
+
+To his amazement and to hers, when they returned late in the
+afternoon Mrs. Garrison asked him to come back and dine.
+
+"I must be dreaming," he said to himself, as he drove away. "She's
+as shrewd as the deuce, and there's a motive in her sudden
+friendliness. I'm beginning to wonder how far I'll drop and how hard
+I'll hit when this affair explodes. Well, it's worth a mighty
+strenuous effort. If I win, I'm the luckiest fool on earth; if I
+lose, the surprise won't kill me." At eight he presented himself
+again at the Garrison house and found that he was not the only
+guest. He was introduced to a number of people, three of whom were
+Americans, the others French. These were Hon. and Mrs. Horace
+Knowlton and their daughter, Miss Knowlton, M. and Mme. de Cartier,
+Mile. Louise Gaudelet and Count Raoul de Vincent.
+
+"Dorothy tells me you are to be in Brussels for several weeks, and I
+was sure you would be glad to know some of the people here. They can
+keep you from being lonesome, and they will not permit you to feel
+that you are a stranger in a strange land," said Mrs. Garrison.
+Quentin bowed deeply to her, flashed a glance of understanding at
+Dorothy, and then surveyed the strangers he was to meet. Quick
+intelligence revealed her motive in inviting him to meet these
+people, and out of sheer respect for her shrewdness he felt like
+applauding. She was cleverly providing him with acquaintances that
+any man might wish to possess, and she was doing it so early that
+the diplomacy of her action was as plain as day to at least two
+people.
+
+"Mamma is clever, isn't she?" Dorothy said to him, merrily, as they
+entered the dining-room. Neither was surprised to find that he had
+been chosen to take her out. It was in the game.
+
+"She is very kind. I can't say how glad I am to meet these people.
+My stay here can't possibly be dull," he said. "Mile. Gaudelet is
+stunning, isn't she?"
+
+"Do you really think so?" she asked, and she did not see his smile.
+
+The dinner was a rare one, the company brilliant, but there was to
+occur, before the laughter in the wine had spent itself, an incident
+in which Philip Quentin figured so conspicuously that his wit as a
+dinner guest ceased to be the topic of subdued side talk, and he
+took on a new personality.
+
+
+
+
+XI. FROM THE POTS AND PLANTS
+
+
+The broad veranda, which faced the avenue and terminated at the
+corner of the house in a huge circle, not unlike an open
+conservatory, afforded a secluded and comparatively cool retreat for
+the diners later in the evening. Banked along the rails were the
+rarest of tropical plants; shaded incandescent lamps sent their glow
+from somewhere among the palms, and there was a suggestion of
+fairy-land in the scene. If Quentin had a purpose in being
+particularly assiduous in his attentions to Mlle. Gaudelet, he did
+not suspect that he was making an implacable foe of Henri de
+Cartier, the husband of another very charming young woman.
+Unaccustomed to the intrigues of Paris, and certainly not aware that
+Brussels copied the fashions of her bigger sister across the border
+in more ways than one, he could not be expected to know that de
+Cartier loved not his wife and did love the pretty Louise. Nor could
+his pride have been convinced that the young woman at his side was
+enjoying the tete-a-tete chiefly because de Cartier was fiercely
+cursing the misfortune which had thrown this new element into
+conflict. It may be unnecessary to say that Mrs. Garrison was
+delighted with the unmistakable signs of admiration manifested by
+the two young people.
+
+It was late when Quentin reluctantly arose to make his adieux. He
+had finished acknowledging the somewhat effusive invitations to the
+houses of his new acquaintances, and was standing near Dorothy,
+directly in front of a tall bank of palms. From one point of view
+this collection of plants looked like a dense jungle, so thickly
+were they placed on the porch at its darkest end. The light from a
+drawing-room window shone across the front of the green mass, but
+did not penetrate the recess near the porch rail. He was taking
+advantage of a very brief opportunity, while others were moving
+away, to tell her that Mile. Louise was fascinating, when her hand
+suddenly clasped his arm and she whispered:
+
+"Phil, there is a man behind those palms." His figure straightened,
+but he did not look around.
+
+"Nonsense, Dorothy. How could a man get--" he began, in a very low
+tone.
+
+"I saw the leaves move, and just now I saw a foot near the rail. Be
+careful, for heaven's sake, but look for yourself; he is near the
+window."
+
+Like statues they stood, she rigid under the strain, but brave
+enough and cool enough to maintain a remarkable composure. She felt
+the muscle of his forearm contract, and there swept over her a
+strange dread. His eyes sought the spot indicated in a perfectly
+natural manner, and there was no evidence of perturbation in his
+gaze or posture. The foot of a man was dimly discernible in the
+shadow, protruding from behind a great earthen jar. Without a word
+he led her across the porch to where the others stood.
+
+"Good-night, Mrs. Garrison," he said, calmly, taking the hand she
+proffered. Dorothy, now trembling like a leaf, looked on in mute
+surprise. Did he mean to depart calmly, with the knowledge that they
+needed his protection? "Good-night, Miss Garrison. I trust I shall
+see you soon." Then, in a lower tone: "Get the people around the
+corner here, and not a word to them."
+
+The ladies were quite well past the corner before he ventured to
+tell the men, whom he held back on some trifling pretext, that there
+was a man among the plants. The information might have caused a
+small panic had not his coolness dominated the nerves of the others.
+
+"Call the gendarmes," whispered de Cartier, panic stricken. "Call
+the servants."
+
+"We don't want the officers nor the servants," said Philip, coolly.
+"Let the ladies get inside the house and we'll soon have a look at
+our fellow guest."
+
+"But he may be armed," said the count, nervously.
+
+"Doubtless he is. Burglars usually are. I had an experience with an
+armed burglar once on a time, and I still live. Perhaps a few palms
+will be damaged, but we'll be as considerate as possible. There is
+no time to lose, gentlemen. He may be trying to escape even now."
+
+Without another word he turned and walked straight toward the palms.
+Not another man followed, and he faced the unwelcome guest alone.
+Faced is the right word, for the owner of the telltale foot had
+taken advantage of their momentary absence from that end of the
+porch to make a hurried and reckless attempt to leave his cramped
+and dangerous hiding-place. He was crowding through the outer circle
+of huge leaves when Quentin swung into view. The light from the
+window was full in the face of the stranger, white, scared, dogged.
+
+"Here he is!" cried Quentin, leaping forward. "Come on, gentlemen!"
+
+With a frantic plunge the trapped stranger crashed through the
+plants, crying hoarsely in French as he met Quentin in the open:
+
+"I don't want to kill you! Keep off!"
+
+Quentin's arm shot out and the fellow went tumbling back among the
+pots and plants. He was up in an instant. As the American leaped
+upon him for the second blow, he drove his hand sharply,
+despairingly, toward that big breast. There came the ripping of
+cloth, the tearing of flesh, and something hot gushed over Phil's
+shoulder and arm. His own blow landed, but not squarely, and, as he
+stumbled forward, his lithe, vicious antagonist sprang aside, making
+another wild but ineffectual sweep with the knife he held in his
+right hand. Before Quentin could recover, the fellow was dashing
+straight toward the petrified, speechless men at the end of the
+porch, where they had been joined by some of the women.
+
+"Out of the way! Out of the way!" he shrieked, brandishing his
+knife. Through the huddled bunch he threw himself, unceremoniously
+toppling over one of them. The way was clear, and he was down the
+steps like a whirlwind. It was all over in an instant's time, but
+before the witnesses to the encounter could catch the second breath,
+the tall form of Philip Quentin was flying down the steps in close
+pursuit. Out into the Avenue Louise they raced, the fugitive with a
+clear lead.
+
+"Come back, Phil!" cried a woman's voice, and he knew the tone
+because of the thrill it sent to his heart.
+
+He heard others running behind him, and concluded that his fellow
+guests had regained their wits and were in the chase with him. If
+the pursued heard the sudden, convulsive laugh of the man behind him
+he must have wondered greatly. Phil could not restrain the wild
+desire to laugh when he pictured the sudden and precipitous halt his
+valiant followers would be compelled to make if the fugitive should
+decide to stop and show fight. One or more of them would doubtless
+be injured in the impossible effort to run backward while still
+going forward.
+
+Blood was streaming down his arm and he was beginning to feel an
+excruciating pain. Pedestrians were few, and they made no effort to
+obstruct the flight of the fugitive. Instead, they gave him a wide
+berth. From far in the rear came hoarse cries, but Quentin was
+uttering no shout. He was grinding his teeth because the fellow had
+worsted him in the rather vainglorious encounter on the porch, and
+was doing all in his power to catch him and make things even. To his
+dismay the fellow was gaining on him and he was losing his own
+strength. Cursing the frightened men who allowed the thief to pass
+on unmolested and then joined in the chase, he raced panting onward.
+The flying fugitive suddenly darted into a narrow, dark street,
+fifty feet ahead of his pursuer, and the latter felt that he had
+lost him completely. There was no sign of him when Quentin turned
+into the cross street; he had disappeared as if absorbed by the
+earth.
+
+For a few minutes Philip and the mob--quite large, inquisitive and
+eager by this time--searched for a trace of the man, but without
+avail. The count, de Cartier and the Honorable Mr. Knowlton, with
+several of Mrs. Garrison's servants, came puffing up and, to his
+amazement and rage, criticised him for allowing the man to escape.
+They argued that a concerted attack on the recess amongst the palms
+would have overwhelmed the fellow and he would now be in the hands
+of the authorities instead of as free as air. Quentin endured the
+expostulations of his companions and the fast-enlarging mirth of the
+crowd for a few moments in dumb surprise. Then he turned suddenly to
+retrace his steps up the avenue, savagely saying:
+
+"If I had waited till you screwed up nerve enough to make a combined
+attack, the man would not have been obliged to take this long and
+tiresome run. He might have called a cab and ridden away in peace
+and contentment."
+
+A laugh of derision came from the crowd and the two Frenchmen looked
+insulted. Mr. Knowlton flushed with shame and hurried after his tall
+countryman.
+
+"You are right, Quentin, you're right," he wheezed. "We did not
+support you, and we are to blame. You did the brave and proper
+thing, and we stood by like a lot of noodles--"
+
+"Well, it's all over, Knowlton, and we all did the best we could,"
+responded Philip, with intense sarcasm which was lost on Mr.
+Knowlton. Just then a sturdy little figure bumped against him and he
+looked down as the newcomer grasped his arm tightly.
+
+"Hello, Turk! It's about time you were showing up. Where the devil
+have you been?" exclaimed he, wrathfully.
+
+"I'll tell y' all about it w'en I gits me tires pumped full agin.
+Come on, come on; it's private--strictly private, an' nobody's nex'
+but me." When there was a chance to talk without being overheard by
+the three discomfited gentlemen in the rear, Turk managed to give
+his master a bit of surprising news.
+
+"That guy was Courant, that's who he was. He's been right on your
+heels since yesterday, an' I just gits nex' to it. He follers you up
+to th' house back yonder an' there's w'ere I loses him. Seems like
+he hung aroun' the porch er porticker, er whatever it is over here,
+watchin' you w'en you wuz inside. I don't know his game, but he's
+th' guy. An' I know w'ere he is now."
+
+"The dickens you do! You infernal little scoundrel, take me there at
+once. Good Lord, Turk, I've got to catch him. These people will
+laugh at me for a month if I don't. Are you sure he is Courant? How
+do you know? Where is he?" cried Phil, excited and impatient.
+
+"You ain't near bein' keen. He doubled on you, that's w'at he done.
+W'en you chased him off on that side street he just leaps over th'
+garden wall an' back he comes into a yard. I comes up, late as
+usual, just in time t' see him calmly prance up some doorsteps an'
+ring th' bell. Wile th' gang an' you wuz lookin' fer him in th'
+gutters an' waste paper boxes, he stan's up there an' grins
+complackently. Then th' door opens an' he slides in like a fox."
+
+"Where is the house? We must search it from top to bottom."
+
+"Can't do that, Mr. Quentin. How are you goin' to search that house
+without a warrant? An' w'at are you goin' to find w'en you do search
+it? He's no common thief. He's in a game that we don't know nothin'
+about, an' he's got cards up his sleeve clear to th' elbow. Th'
+people in that house is his friends, an' he's safe, so w'at's th'
+use? I've got th' joint spotted an' he don't know I am nex'. It's a
+point in our favor. There wuz a woman opened the door, so she's in
+th' game, too. Let's lay low, Mr. Quentin, an' take it cool."
+
+"But what in thunder was he doing behind those palms? That wasn't a
+very sensible bit of detective work, was it?"
+
+"Most detectives is asses. He was hidin' there just to earn his
+money. To-morrow he could go to th' juke an' tell him how slick he'd
+been in hearin' w'at you said to th' young lady w'en you thought
+nobody was listenin'. Was he hid near a window?'
+
+"Just below one--almost against the casing."
+
+"Easy sailin'. He figgered out that some time durin' th' night you
+an' her would set in that window an' there you are. See? But I
+wonder w'at he'll say to th' juke to-morrow?"
+
+"I hate to give this job up," growled Phil. "But I must get back to
+the hotel. The villain cut me with a knife."
+
+By this time they were in front of the Garrison home, and in an
+undertone he bade Turk walk on and wait for him at the corner below.
+
+"Did he escape?" cried Dorothy from the steps.
+
+"He gave us the slip, confound him, Dorothy."
+
+"I'm glad, really I am. What could we have done with him if he had
+been caught? But are you not coming in?"
+
+"Oh, not to-night, thank you. Can't you have some one bring out my
+hat and coat?" He was beginning to feel faint and sick, and
+purposely kept the bloody arm from the light.
+
+"You shall not have them unless you come in for them. Besides, we
+want you to tell us what happened. We are crazy with excitement.
+Madame de Cartier fainted, and mamma is almost worried to death."
+
+"Are you not coming up, Mr. Quentin?" called Mrs. Garrison, from the
+veranda.
+
+"You must come in," said de Cartier, coming up at that moment with
+the count and Mr. Knowlton.
+
+"Really, I must go to the hotel, I am a little faint after that
+wretched run. Let me go, please; don't insist on my coming in," he
+said.
+
+"Mon dieu!" exclaimed the count. "It is blood, Monsieur! You are
+hurt!"
+
+"Oh, not in the least--merely a--"
+
+"Phil!" cried Dorothy, standing in front of him, her wide eyes
+looking intently into his. "Are you hurt? Tell me!"
+
+"Just a little cut in the arm or shoulder, I think. Doesn't amount
+to anything, I assure--"
+
+"Come in the house at once, Philip Quentin!" she exclaimed. "Mr.
+Knowlton, will you ask Franz to telephone for Dr. Berier?" Then she
+saw the blood-stained hand and shuddered, turning her face away.
+"Oh, Phil!" she whispered.
+
+"That pays for this cut and more, if necessary," he said, in a low
+voice, as he walked at her side up the steps.
+
+"Lean on me, Phil," she said. "You must be faint." He laughed
+merrily, and his eyes sparkled with something not akin to pain.
+
+Dr. Berier came and closed the gash in his shoulder. An hour later
+he came downstairs, to find Mrs. Garrison and Dorothy alone.
+
+"You were very brave, Mr. Quentin, but very foolhardy," said Mrs.
+Garrison. "I hope from my heart the wound will give you little
+trouble."
+
+His good right hand closed over hers for an instant and then clasped
+Dorothy's warmly, lingeringly.
+
+"You must let us hear from you to-morrow," said she, softly.
+
+"Expect me to fetch the message in person," said he, and he was off
+down the steps. He did not look back, or he might have seen her
+standing on the veranda, her eyes following him till he was joined
+by another man at the corner below.
+
+
+
+
+XII. HE CLAIMED A DAY
+
+
+The strange experience of the evening brought Quentin sharply to a
+sense of realization. It proved to him that he was feared, else why
+the unusual method of campaign? To what extent the conspirators
+would carry their seemingly unnecessary warfare he was now, for the
+first time, able to form some sort of opinion. The remarkable
+boldness of the spy at the Garrison home left room for considerable
+speculation as to his motive. What was his design and what would
+have been the ending to his sinister vigil? Before Quentin slept
+that night he came to the drowsy conclusion that luck had really
+been with him, despite his wound and Courant's escape, and that the
+sudden exposure of the spy destroyed the foundation for an important
+move in the powderless conflict.
+
+In the morning his shoulder was so sore that the surgeon informed
+him he could not use the arm for several days. Turk philosophically
+bore the brunt of his master's ire. Like a little Napoleon he
+endured the savage assaults from Quentin's vocal batteries, taking
+them as lamentations instead of imprecations. The morning newspapers
+mentioned the attempt to rob Mrs. Garrison's house and soundly
+deplored the unstrategic and ill-advised attempt of "an American
+named Canton" to capture the desperado. "The police department is
+severe in its criticism of the childish act which allowed the wretch
+to escape detection without leaving the faintest clew behind.
+Officers were close at hand, and the slightest warning would have
+had them at the Garrison home. The capture of this man would have
+meant much to the department, as he is undoubtedly one of the
+diamond robbers who are working havoc in Brussels at this time. He
+was, it is stated positively by the police, not alone in his
+operations last night. His duty, it is believed, was to obtain the
+lay of the land and to give the signal at the proper moment for a
+careful and systematic raid of the wealthy woman's house. The police
+now fear that the robbers, whose daring exploits have shocked and
+alarmed all Brussels, are on their guard and a well-defined plan to
+effect their capture is ruined. A prominent attache of the
+department is of the opinion that an attempt was to have been made
+by the band to relieve all of Mrs. Garrison's guests of their jewels
+in a sensational game of 'stand and deliver.'"
+
+"The miserable asses!" exploded Phil, when 'he read the foregoing.
+"That is the worst rot I ever read. This police department couldn't
+catch a thief if he were tied to a tree. Turk, if they were so near
+at hand why the devil didn't they get into the chase with me and run
+that fellow down?"
+
+"Th' chances are they was in th' chase, Mr. Quentin, but they didn't
+get th' proper direction. They thought he was bein' chased th' other
+way, an' I wouldn't be surprised if some of 'em run five or six
+miles before they stopped t' reflect."
+
+"If there is a gang of diamond robbers or comic opera bandits in
+this city I'll bet my hand they could steal the sidewalks without
+being detected, much less captured. A scheme to rob all of Mrs.
+Garrison's guests! The asses!"
+
+"Don't get excited, sir. You'll burst a blood vessel, an' that's a
+good sight worse than a cut," cautioned Turk.
+
+"Turk, in all your burglarious years, did you ever go about robbing
+a house in that manner?"
+
+"Not in a million years."
+
+"Well, what are we to do next?" demanded Quentin, reflectively,
+ignoring his former question and Turk's specific answer. "Shall we
+give the police all the information we have and land Mr. Courant in
+jail?"
+
+"This is our game, sir, not th' police's. For th' Lord's sake, don't
+give anything up to th' cops. They'll raise particular thunder in
+their sleep, an' we gets th' rough ha! ha! from our frien's, th'
+enemy. We pipes this little game ourself, an' we wins, too, if we
+succeed in keepin' th' police from gettin' nex' to anything they'd
+mistake for a clue."
+
+Phil thought long and hard before sitting down at noon to write to
+Dickey Savage. He disliked calling for help in the contest, but with
+a bandaged arm and the odds against him, he finally resolved that he
+needed the young New Yorker at his side. Dickey was deliberation
+itself, and he was brave and loyal. So the afternoon's post carried
+a letter to Savage, who was still in London, asking him to come to
+Brussels at once, if he could do so conveniently. The same post
+carried a letter to Lord Bob, and in it the writer admitted that he
+might need reinforcements before the campaign closed. He also
+inclosed the clipping from the newspaper, but added a choice and
+caustic opinion of the efficiency of the Brussels police. He did not
+allude specifically to Courant, the duke, or to the queer beginning
+of the prince's campaign.
+
+Early in the afternoon Mrs. Garrison sent to inquire as to his
+wound. In reply he calmly prepared for an appearance in person. Turk
+accompanied him, about four o'clock, in a cab to the house in Avenue
+Louise. There were guests, and Phil was forced to endure a rather
+effusive series of feminine exclamations and several polite
+expressions from men who sincerely believed they could have done
+better had they been in his place. Mrs. Garrison was a trifle
+distant at first, but as she saw Quentin elevated to the pedestal of
+a god for feminine worship she thawed diplomatically, and, with rare
+tact, assumed a sort of proprietorship. Dorothy remained in the
+background, but he caught anxious glances at his arm, and, once or
+twice, a serious contemplation of his half-turned face.
+
+"I'll let her think the fellow was one of the diamond robbers for
+the present," thought he. "She wouldn't believe me if I told her he
+was in the employ of the prince, and the chances are she'd ruin
+everything by writing to him about it."
+
+When at last he found the opportunity to speak with her alone he
+asked how she had slept.
+
+"Not at all, not a wink, not a blink. I imagined I heard robbers in
+every part of the house. Are you speaking the truth when you tell
+all these people it is a mere scratch? I am sure it is much worse,
+and I want you to tell me the truth," she said, earnestly.
+
+"I've had deeper cuts that didn't bleed a drop," said he. "If you
+must have the truth, Dorothy, I'll confess the fellow gave me a
+rather nasty slash, and I don't blame him, He had to do it, and he's
+just as lucky as I am, perhaps, that it was no worse. I wish to
+compliment your Brussels police, too, on being veritable
+bloodhounds. I observed as I came in that they have at last scented
+the blood on the pavement in front of the house and have washed away
+the stain fairly well."
+
+"Wasn't the story in the morning paper ridiculous? You were very
+brave. I almost cried when I saw how the horrid detectives
+criticised you."
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say that, because I was afraid you'd think
+like the rest--that I was a blundering idiot."
+
+"You did not fear anything of the kind. Do you really think he was
+one of those awful diamond robbers who are terrorizing the town? I
+could not sleep another wink if I thought so. Why, last spring a
+rich merchant and his wife were drugged in one of the cafes, taken
+by carriage to Watermael, where they were stripped of their
+valuables and left by the roadside."
+
+"Did you see an account of the affair in your morning paper?"
+
+"Yes--there were columns about it."
+
+"Then I think eight-tenths of the crime was committed at a city
+editor's desk. It's my opinion these diamond thieves are a set of
+ordinary pickpockets and petty porch climbers. A couple of New York
+policemen could catch the whole lot in a week."
+
+"But, really, Phil, they are very bold and they are not at all
+ordinary. You don't know how thankful we are that this one was
+discovered before he got into the house. Didn't he have a knife?
+Well, wasn't it to kill us with if we made an outcry?" She was
+nervous and excited, and he had it on the tip of his tongue to allay
+her fears by telling what he thought to be the true object of the
+man's visit.
+
+"Well, no matter what he intended to do, he didn't do it, and he'll
+never come back to try it again. He will steer clear of this house,"
+he said, reassuringly.
+
+A week, two weeks went by without a change in the situation. Dickey
+Savage replied that he would come to Brussels as soon as his heart
+trouble would permit him to leave London, and that would probably be
+about the twentieth of August. In parentheses he said he hoped to be
+out of danger by that time. The duke was persistent in his
+friendliness, and Courant had, to all intents and purposes,
+disappeared completely. Prince Ugo was expected daily, and Mrs.
+Garrison was beginning to breathe easily again. The police had given
+up the effort to find the Garrison robber, and Turk had learned
+everything that was to be known concerning the house in which
+Courant found shelter after eluding his pursuers on the night of the
+affray. Quentin's shoulder was almost entirely healed, and he was
+beginning to feel himself again. The two weeks had found him a
+constant and persistent visitor at Miss Garrison's home, but he was
+compelled to admit that he had made no progress in his crusade
+against her heart. She baffled him at every turn, and he was
+beginning to lose his confident hopes. At no time during their
+tete-a-tetes, their walks, their drives, their visits to the art
+galleries, did she give him the slightest ground for encouragement.
+And, to further disturb his sense of contentment, she was
+delighted--positively delighted--over the coming of Prince Ugo. For
+a week she had talked of little save the day when he was to arrive.
+Quentin endured these rapturous assaults nobly, but he was slowly
+beginning to realize that they were battering down the only defense
+he had--the inward belief that she cared for him in spite of all.
+
+Frequently he met the Duke Laselli at the Garrisons'. He also saw a
+great deal of the de Cartiers and Mile. Gaudelet. When, one day, he
+boldly intimated to Dorothy that de Cartier was in love with Louise
+and she with him, that young lady essayed to look shocked and
+displeased, but he was sure he saw a quick gleam of satisfaction in
+her eyes. And he was positive the catch in her breath was not so
+much of horror as it was of joy. Mrs. Garrison did all in her power
+to bring him and the pretty French girl together, and her insistence
+amused him.
+
+One day her plans, if she had any, went racing skyward, and she, as
+well as all Brussels society, was stunned by the news that de
+Cartier had deserted his wife to elope with the fair Gaudelet! When
+Quentin laconically, perhaps maliciously, observed that he had long
+suspected the nature of their regard for one another, Mrs.
+Garrison gave him a withering look and subsided into a chilling
+unresponsiveness that boded ill for the perceiving young man. The
+inconsiderate transgression of de Cartier and the unkindness of the
+Gaudelet upset her plans cruelly, and she found that she had wasted
+time irreparably in trying to bring the meddling American to the feet
+of the French woman. Quentin revelled in her discomfiture, and Dorothy
+in secret enjoyed the unexpected turn of affairs.
+
+She had seen through her mother's design, and she had known all
+along how ineffectual it would prove in the end. Philip puzzled her
+and piqued her more than she cared to admit. That she did not care
+for him, except as a friend, she was positive, but that he should
+persistently betray signs of nothing more than the most ordinary
+friendship was far from pleasing to her vanity. The truth is, she
+had expected him to go on his knees to her, an event which would
+have simplified matters exceedingly. It would have given her the
+opportunity to tell him plainly she could be no more than a friend,
+and it would have served to alter his course in what she believed to
+be a stubborn love chase. But he had disappointed her; he had been
+the amusing companion, the ready friend, the same sunny spirit, and
+she was perplexed to observe that he gave forth no indication of
+hoping or even desiring to be more. She could not, of course, know
+that this apparently indifferent young gentleman was wiser, far
+wiser, than the rest of his kind. He saw the folly of a rash, hasty
+leap in the dark, and bided his time like the cunning general who
+from afar sees the hopelessness of an attack against a strong and
+watchful adversary, and waits for the inevitable hour when the vigil
+is relaxed.
+
+There was no denying the fact that with all his confidence his
+colors were sinking, while hers remained as gallantly fluttering as
+when the struggle began. He was becoming confused and nervous; a
+feeling of impotence began slyly, devilishly to assail him, and he
+frequently found himself far out at sea. The strange inactivity of
+the prince's cohorts, the significant friendliness of the duke, the
+everlasting fear that a sudden move might catch him unawares began
+to tell on his peace of mind. Both he and Turk watched like cats for
+the slightest move that might betray the intentions of the foe, but
+there was nothing, absolutely nothing. The house in which Courant
+found safety was watched, but it gave forth no secrets. The duke's
+every movement appeared to be as open, as fair, as unsuspicious as
+man's could be, and yet there was ever present the feeling that some
+day something would snap and a crisis would rush upon them. Late one
+afternoon he drove up to the house in Avenue Louise, and when
+Dorothy came downstairs for the drive her face was beaming.
+
+"Ugo comes to-morrow," she said, as they crossed to the carriage.
+
+"Which means that I am to be relegated to the dark," he said,
+dolefully.
+
+"Oh, no! Ugo likes you and I like you, you know. Why, are we not to
+be the same good friends as now?" she asked, suddenly, with a pretty
+show of surprise.
+
+"Oh, I suppose so," he said, looking straight ahead. They were
+driving rapidly toward the Bois de la Cambre. "But, of course, I'll
+not rob the prince of moments that belong to him by right of
+conquest. You may expect to see me driving disconsolately along the
+avenue--alone."
+
+"Mr. Savage will be here," she said, sweetly, enjoying his first
+show of misery.
+
+"But he's in love, and he'll not be thinking of me. I'm the only one
+in all Christendom, it seems to me, who is not in love with
+somebody, and it's an awful hardship."
+
+"You will fall really in love some day, never fear," she
+volunteered, after a somewhat convulsive twist of the head in his
+direction.
+
+"Unquestionably," he said, "and I shall be just as happy and as
+foolish as the rest of you, I presume."
+
+"I should enjoy seeing you really and truly in love with some girl.
+It would be so entertaining."
+
+"A perfect comedy, I am sure. I must say, however, that I'd feel
+sorry for the girl I loved if she didn't happen to love me."
+
+"And why, pray?"
+
+"Because," he said, turning abruptly and looking straight into her
+eyes, "she'd have the trouble and distinction of surrendering in the
+end."
+
+"You vain, conceited thing!" she exclaimed, a trifle disconcerted.
+"You overestimate your power."
+
+"Do you think I overestimate it?" he demanded, quickly.
+
+"I don t--don't know. How should I know?" she cried, in complete
+rout. In deep chagrin she realized that he had driven her sharply
+into unaccountable confusion, and that her wits were scattering
+hopelessly at the very moment when she needed them most.
+
+"Then why do you say I overestimate it?" he asked, relentlessly.
+
+"Because you do," she exclaimed, at bay.
+
+"Are you a competent judge?"
+
+"What do you mean?" she asked, grasping for time.
+
+"I mean, have you the right to question my power, as you call it?
+Have I attempted to exert it over you?"
+
+"You are talking nonsense, Phil," she said, spiritedly.
+
+"I said I'd feel sorry for the girl if she didn't happen to love me,
+you know. Well, I couldn't force her to love me if she didn't love
+me, could I?"
+
+"Certainly not. That is what I meant," she cried, immensely
+relieved.
+
+"But my point is that she might love me without knowing it and would
+simply have to be brought to the realization."
+
+"Oh," she said, "that is different."
+
+"You take back what you said, then?" he asked, maliciously.
+
+"If she loved you and did not know it, she'd be a fool and you could
+exert any kind of power over her. You see, we didn't quite
+understand each other, did we?"
+
+"That is for you to say," he said, smiling significantly. "I think I
+understand perfectly."
+
+By this time they were opposite the Rue Lesbroussart, and he drove
+toward the Place Ste. Croix. As they made the turn she gave a start
+and peered excitedly up the Avenue Louise, first in front of her
+companion, then behind.
+
+"Oh, Phil, there is Ugo!" she cried, clasping his arm. "See! In the
+trap, coming toward us." He looked quickly, but the trees and houses
+now hid the other trap from view.
+
+"Are you sure it is he?"
+
+"Oh, I am positive. He has come to surprise me. Is there no way we
+can reach the house first? By the rear--anyway," she cried,
+excitedly. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling.
+
+"Was he alone?" asked he, his jaw setting suddenly.
+
+"That has nothing to do with it. We must hurry home. Turn back,
+Phil; we may be able to overtake him on the avenue."
+
+"I wanted to take you to the Park, Dorothy."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"That's all," he went on, calmly. "The prince can leave his card and
+call later in the--well, this evening."
+
+"What--you don't mean--Philip Quentin, take me home instantly," she
+blazed.
+
+"Not for all the princes in the universe," he said. "This is my
+afternoon, and I will not give up a minute of it."
+
+"But I command, sir!"
+
+"And I refuse to obey."
+
+"Oh--oh, this is outrageous----" she began, frantically.
+
+Suddenly his gloved left hand dropped from the reins and closed over
+one of hers. The feverish clasp and the command in his eyes
+compelled her to look up into his face quickly. There she saw the
+look she feared, admired, deserved.
+
+"There was a time when you wanted to be with me and with no other. I
+have not forgotten those days, nor have you. They were the sweetest
+days of your life and of mine. It is no age since I held this hand
+in mine, and you would have gone to the end of the world with me. It
+is no age since you kissed me and called me a king. It is no age
+since you looked into my eyes with an expression far different from
+the one you now have. You remember, you remember, Dorothy."
+
+She was too surprised to answer, too overcome by the suddenness of
+his assault to resist. The power she had undertaken to estimate was
+in his eyes, strong, plain, relentless.
+
+"And because you remember I can see the hardness going from your
+eyes, the tenderness replacing it. The flush in your cheek is not so
+much of anger as it was, your heart is not beating in rebellion as
+it was, and all because you cannot forget--you will not forget."
+
+"This is madness," she cried, shivering as with a mighty chill.
+
+"Madness it may be, Dorothy, but--well, because we have not
+forgotten the days when we were sweethearts, I am claiming this day
+of you and you must give it to me for the same reason. You must say
+to me that you give it willingly," he half whispered, intensely. She
+could only look helplessly into his eyes.
+
+From the rumble Turk saw nothing, neither did he hear.
+
+
+
+
+XIII. SOME UGLY LOOKING MEN
+
+
+Prince Ugo Ravorelli was not, that day, the only one whose coming to
+Brussels was of interest to Quentin. Dickey Savage came in from
+Ostend and was waiting at the Bellevue when he walked in soon after
+six o'clock. Mr. Savage found a warm welcome from the tall young man
+who had boldly confiscated several hours that belonged properly to
+the noble bridegroom, and it was not long until, dinner over, he was
+lolling back in a chair in Quentin's room, his feet cocked on the
+window sill, listening with a fair and increasing show of interest
+to the confidences his friend was pouring forth.
+
+"So you deliberately drove off and left the prince, eh? And she
+didn't sulk or call you a nasty, horrid beast? I don't know what the
+devil you want me here for if you've got such a start as that. Seems
+to me I'll be in the way, more or less," said Dickey, when the story
+reached a point where, to him, finis was the only appropriate word.
+
+"That's the deuce of it, Dickey. I can't say that I've got a safe
+start at all, even with her, and I've certainly got some distance to
+go before I can put the prince out of the running. You may think
+this is a nice, easy, straightaway race, but it isn't. It's going to
+be a steeplechase, and I don't know the course. I'm looking for a
+wide ditch at any turn, and I may get a nasty fall. You see, I've
+some chance of getting my neck broken before I get to the stretch."
+
+"And some noted genius will be grinding out that Lohengrin two-step
+just about the time you get within hearing distance, too. You won't
+be two-stepping down the aisle at St. Gudule, but you'll agree that
+it's a very pretty party. That will be all, my boy--really all. I
+don't want to discourage you and I'm willing to stay by you till
+that well-known place freezes over, but I think an ocean voyage
+would be very good for you if you can arrange to start to-morrow."
+
+"If you're going into this thing with that sort of spirit, you'll be
+a dead weight and I'll be left at the post," said Quentin, ruefully.
+
+"Was the prince at the house when you returned from the drive?"
+
+"No; and Mrs. Garrison almost glared a hole through me. There were
+icicles on every word when she told poor Dorothy he had been there
+and would return this evening."
+
+"Was she satisfied to finish the drive with you after she had seen
+the prince?" Quentin had not told him of the conversation which
+followed her demand to be taken home.
+
+"She was very sensible about it," he admitted, carefully. "You see,
+she had an engagement with me, and as a lady she could not well
+break it. We got along very nicely, all things considered, but I'm
+afraid she won't go out again with me."
+
+"She won't slam the door in your face if you go to the house, will
+she?"
+
+"Hardly," said the other, smiling. "She has asked me to come. The
+prince likes me, it seems."
+
+"But he likes to be alone with her, I should say. Well, don't
+interfere when he is there. My boy, give him a chance," said Dickey,
+with a twinkle.
+
+The duke headed off the two Americans as they left the hotel half an
+hour later. He was evidently watching for them, and his purpose was
+clear. It was his duty to prevent Quentin from going to the Garrison
+home, if possible. After shaking hands with Savage, the little man
+suggested a visit to a dance house in the lower end, promising an
+evening of rare sport. He and Count Sallaconi, who came up from
+Paris with the prince, had planned a little excursion into unusual
+haunts, and he hoped the Americans had a few dull hours that needed
+brightening. Phil savagely admitted to himself that he anticipated a
+good many dull hours, but they could not be banished by the
+vulgarity of a dance hall. The long, bony, fierce-mustached count
+came up at this moment and joined in imploring the young men to go
+with them to the "gayest place in all Brussels."
+
+"Let's go, Phil, just to see how much worse our New York places are
+than theirs," said Dickey.
+
+"But I have a--er--sort of an engagement," remonstrated Quentin,
+reluctantly. The duke gave him a sharp look.
+
+"Do not be afraid," he said, laughing easily. "We will not permit
+the dancing girls to harm you."
+
+"He's not afraid of girls," interposed Dickey. "Girls are his long
+suit. You didn't tell me you had an engagement?" Quentin gave him a
+withering look.
+
+"I have one, just the same," he said, harshly.
+
+"You will not accompany us, then?" said the count, the line between
+his eyebrows growing deeper.
+
+"I have to thank you, gentlemen, and to plead a previous engagement.
+May we not go some other night?"
+
+"I am afraid we shall not again be in the same mood for pleasure,"
+said the duke, shifting his eyes nervously. "The count and I have
+but little time to give to frivolity. We are disappointed that you
+will not join us on this one night of frolic."
+
+"I regret it exceedingly, but if you knew what I have to do to-night
+you would not insist," said Phil, purposely throwing a cloak of
+mystery about his intentions for the mere satisfaction of arousing
+their curiosity.
+
+"Very well, mes Americains; we will not implore you longer,"
+responded the count, carelessly. "May your evening be as pleasant as
+ours." The two Italians bowed deeply, linked arms and strolled away.
+
+"Say, those fellows know you haven't an engagement," exclaimed
+Savage, wrathfully. "What sort of an ass are you?"
+
+"See here, Dickey, you've still got something to learn in this
+world. Don't imagine you know everything. You don't, you know. Do
+you think I am going to walk into one of their traps with my eyes
+open?"
+
+"Traps? You don't mean to say this dance hall business is a trap?"
+exclaimed Dickey, his eyes opening wide with an interest entirely
+foreign to his placid nature.
+
+"I don't know, and that's why I am keeping out of it. Now, let's
+take our walk, a nice cool drink or two and go to bed where we can
+dream about what might have happened to us at the dance hall."
+
+"Where does she live?" asked Savage, as they left the rotunda.
+
+"Avenue Louise," was the laconic answer.
+
+"Why don't you say Belgium or Europe, if you're bound to be
+explicit," growled Dickey.
+
+A dapper-looking young man came from the hotel a few paces behind
+them and followed, swinging his light cane leisurely. Across the
+place, in the shadow of a tall building, the two Italian noblemen
+saw the Americans depart, noting the direction they took. It was
+toward the Avenue Louise. A smile of satisfaction came to their
+faces when the dapper stranger made his appearance. A few moments
+later they were speeding in a cab toward the avenue.
+
+"That is her house," said Phil, later on, as the two strolled slowly
+down the Avenue Louise. They were across the street from the
+Garrison home, and the shadowy-trees hid them. The tall lover knew,
+however, that the Italian was with her and that his willfulness of
+the afternoon had availed him naught. Nor could he recall a single
+atom of hope and encouragement his bold act had produced other than
+the simple fact that she had submitted as gracefully as possible to
+the inevitable and had made the best of it.
+
+"Ugo has the center of the stage, and everybody else is in the
+orchestra, playing fiddles of secondary importance, while Miss
+Dorothy is the lone and only audience," reflected Dickey.
+
+"I wish you'd confine your miserable speculations to the weather,
+Dickey," said the other, testily.
+
+"With pleasure. To-morrow will be a delightful day for a drive or a
+stroll. You and I, having nothing else to do, can take an all-day
+drive into the country and get acquainted with the Belgian birds and
+bees--and the hares, too."
+
+"Don't be an ass! What sort of a game do you think those Italians
+were up to this evening? I'm as nervous as the devil. It's time for
+the game to come to a head, and we may as well expect something
+sudden."
+
+"I think it depends on the prince. If he finds that you haven't torn
+down his fences while you had full sway, he'll not be obliged to go
+on with the game. He was merely protecting interests that absence
+endangered. Now that he's here, and if all is smooth and
+undisturbed--or, in other words, if you have failed in your
+merciless design to put a few permanent and unhealable dents in the
+fair lady's heart--he will certainly discharge his cohorts and enjoy
+very smooth seas for the rest of the trip. If you have disfigured
+her tender heart by trying to break into it, as a safe-blower gets
+into those large, steel things we call safety deposit vaults--where
+other men keep things they don't care to lose--I must say that his
+satanic majesty will be to pay. Do you think you have made any
+perceptible dents, or do you think the safe is as strong and as
+impregnable as it was when you began using chisels and dynamite on
+it six weeks ago?"
+
+"I can't say that I enjoy the simile, but I'm conceited enough to
+think it is not as free from dents as it was when I began. I'm not
+quite sure about it, but I believe with a little more time and
+security against interference I might have--er--have--''
+
+"Got away with the swag, as Turk would say. Well, it's this way. If
+the prince investigates and finds that you were frightened away just
+in time to prevent wholesale looting, you'll have to do some expert
+dodging to escape the consequences of the crime. He'll have the duke
+and the count and a few others do nothing but get up surprise
+parties for you."
+
+"That's it, Dickey. That's what I'm afraid of--the surprise
+parties. He's afraid of me, or he wouldn't have gone to the trouble
+of having me watched. They've got something brewing or they wouldn't
+have been so quiet for the past two weeks. Courant is gone and--"
+
+"How do you know Courant isn't here?"
+
+"Turk says he has disappeared."
+
+"Turk doesn't know everything. That fellow may have a score of
+disguises. These French detectives are great on false whiskers and
+dramatic possibilities. The chances are that he has been watching
+you night and day, and I'll bet my head, if he has, he's been able
+to tell Ugo more about your affair with Miss Garrison than you know
+yourself, my boy."
+
+They turned to retrace their steps, Phil gloomily surveying the big,
+partially-lighted house across the way. A man met them and made room
+for them to pass on the narrow walk. He was a jaunty, well-dressed
+young fellow and the others would have observed nothing peculiar
+about him had they not caught him looking intently toward the house
+which was of such interest to them. As he passed them he peered
+closely at their faces and so strange was his manner that both
+involuntarily turned their heads to look after him. As is usually
+the case, he also turned to look at them.
+
+"I saw that fello\v in the hotel," said Savage.
+
+Five minutes later they met Turk and, before they could utter a word
+of protest, he was leading them into the Rue du Prince Royal.
+
+"There's a guy follerin' you," he explained. "An' th' two swells is
+drivin' aroun' in a cab like as if they wuz expectin' fun. They just
+passed you on th' avenoo, an' now they's comin' back. That's their
+rig--cuttin' across there. See? I tell you, they's somethin' in the
+air, an' it looks as though it ain't goin' to pan out as they wanted
+it to."
+
+"What's the matter with you? The duke and the count went to a dance
+hall," expostulated Quentin.
+
+"To make a night of it," added Savage
+
+"Didn't you see a nice lookin' feller up there in th' avenoo, an'
+didn't he size you up purty close? That's him--that's Courant, th'
+fly cop. Git inside this doorway an' you'll see him pass yere in a
+couple of seconds. He's not a block behind us."
+
+Sure enough the dapper stranger passed by the three men in shadow,
+looking uneasily, nervously up and across the street.
+
+"He's lost th' trail," whispered Turk, after Courant was beyond
+hearing.
+
+"The same fellow, I'll be blowed," said Dickey, in amazement. "Now,
+what do you suppose the game is?"
+
+"My idea is that w'en you turned 'em down on th' dance hall job they
+was afraid you'd go to th' young lady's house and cut in on th'
+prince's cinch, so they had to git a move on to head you off. You
+was wise w'en you kicked out of th' dance hall racket. Th' chances
+are you'd 'a' got into all kinds o' hell if you'd fell into th'
+trap. Say, I'm dead sure o' one er two t'ings. In th' first place,
+they've got four or five more ringers than we know about. I seen
+Courant talkin' mighty secret-like to two waiters in th' hall this
+evenin, an' th' driver o' that cab o' theirn was a baggage hustler
+at th' Bellyvoo as late as yesterday."
+
+"By thunder, I believe their game was to mix us up in a big
+free-for-all fight when they got us into that dance dive. That shows
+Dickey, how wise I was to decline the invitation," said Quentin,
+seriously. By this time they were some distance behind Turk,
+following in the path of the puzzled detective. They saw him look
+curiously at the lighted windows of the houses, and overtook him at
+the intersection of the Boulevard Waterloo. Just as they came up
+from behind, Courant stopped for an instant's conversation with two
+men. Their talk was brief and the trio turned to go back over the
+path just traversed by Courant The two sets of men met fairly and
+were compelled to make room for each other to pass. Courant came to
+a full stop involuntarily, but recovered himself and followed his
+friends quickly.
+
+"The plot thickens," observed Phil. "It looks as though they are
+rounding up their forces after the miscarriage of the original plan.
+Gad, they are hunting us down like rats to-night."
+
+"The hotel is the safest place for us, and the quicker we get there
+the better," said Dickey. "I'm not armed, are you?"
+
+"Of course not. I hadn't thought of such a thing, but from now on
+I'll carry a revolver. Those fellows didn't look especially dainty,
+did they?"
+
+"I can't believe that they intend to murder you or anything like
+that. They wouldn't dare do such a thing."
+
+"That's th' game, Mr. Savage; I'm dead sure of it. This was th'
+night an' it was to ha' been done in th' dance hall, riot, stampede,
+everybody fightin' wild an' then a jab in th' back. Nobody any th'
+wiser, see?" The two paled a trifle under Turk's blunt way of
+putting it.
+
+When they entered the hotel a short time later the first man they
+saw was Prince Ugo. With his dark eyes glowing, his lips parted in a
+fine smile, he came to meet them, his hand extended heartily.
+
+"I have asked for you, gentlemen, and you were out. You return just
+as I am ready to give up in despair. And now, let me say how happy I
+am to see you," he said, warmly. The Americans shook hands with him,
+confusion filling their brains. Why was he not with the Garrisons?
+
+"I knew you were here, Prince Ugo, and would have inquired for you
+but that I suspected you would be closely engaged," said Quentin,
+after a moment.
+
+"Earlier in the evening I was engaged, but I am here now as the
+bearer of a message to you, Mr. Quentin. Miss Garrison has asked me
+to deliver into your hands this missive." With that he drew from his
+pocket a sealed envelope and passed it to Quentin. "I was commanded
+to give it you to-night, so perhaps you will read it now."
+
+"Thank you," muttered the other, nervously tearing open the envelope
+as the prince turned to Dickey Savage. At that moment the duke and
+the count strolled into the rotunda, jauntily, easily, as if they
+had been no farther than the block just beyond, instead of racing
+about in a bounding cab. They approached the group as Phil turned
+away to read the note which had come so strangely into his hands.
+Dorothy wrote:
+
+"Dear Phil: I trust you to say nothing to Prince Ugo. I mean, do not
+intimate that I saw him yesterday when I went to drive with you. He
+would consider it an affront. I know it is not necessary to caution
+you, but I feel safe in doing so. You will pardon me, I am sure. My
+conduct, as well as yours, when we look at it calmly in an
+afterlight, was quite extraordinary. So fully do I trust him and so
+well does he love me that I know this note comes to you inviolate.
+
+"D."
+
+Phil's brain was in a whirl. He glanced at the handsome face of
+Dorothy's noble lover and then at his swarthy fellow countrymen.
+Could they be plotters? Could he be hand-in-hand with those
+evil-looking men? He had delivered the note, and yet he so feared
+its recipient that he was employing questionable means to dispose of
+him. There could be no doubt as to the genuineness of the note. It
+was from Dorothy, and the prince had borne it to him direct from her
+hand.
+
+"An invitation to dinner?" asked the prince, laughing easily. "Miss
+Garrison is alarmingly fond of Mr. Quentin, and I begin to feel the
+first symptoms of jealousy. Pardon me, I should not speak of her
+here, even in jest." So sincere was his manner that the Americans
+felt a strange respect for him. The same thought flashed through the
+minds of both: "He is not a blackguard, whatever else he may be."
+But up again came the swift thought of Courant and his ugly
+companions, and the indisputable evidence that the first named, at
+least, was a paid agent of the man who stood before them, now the
+prince, once the singer in far away Brazil.
+
+"The mention of dinner recalls me to affairs of my own," continued
+Ugo. "To-morrow night I expect a few friends here to dine, and I
+have the honor to ask you all to be among my guests. We shall sit
+down at nine o'clock, and I only exact a promise that the end may
+come within a week thereafter."
+
+The Americans could do naught but accept, but there was an
+oppressive sense of misgiving in their hearts. Mayhap the signal
+failure to carry out the plans of one night was leading swiftly and
+resolutely up to the success of another. For more than an hour
+Quentin and his friend sat silently, soberly in the former's room,
+voicing only after long intervals the opinions and conjectures their
+puzzled minds begot, only to sink back into fresh fields for
+thought.
+
+"I can't understand it," said Dickey, at last, starting to bed.
+
+"I believe I understand it perfectly. They are on a new tack. It
+occurs to me that they fear we suspect something and the dinner is a
+sort of peace offering."
+
+"We may be getting into a nest of masculine Lucretia Borgias, my
+boy."
+
+"Pleasant dreams, then. Good-night!"
+
+
+
+
+XIV. A DINNER AND A DUEL
+
+
+At nine o'clock the next evening Quentin and Savage found themselves
+in the rooms occupied by the prince, the former experiencing a
+distinct sense of wariness and caution.
+
+If Quentin suspected some form of treachery at the outset, he was
+soon obliged to ridicule his fears. There were nearly a score of men
+there, and a single glance revealed to him the gratifying fact that
+no treachery could be practiced in such an assemblage. Among their
+fellow guests there was an English lord, an Austrian duke, a Russian
+prince, a German baron, besides others from France, Belgium and
+Germany.
+
+Prince Ugo greeted them warmly, and they were at their ease in an
+instant under the magnetism of his manner. Duke Laselli and Count
+Diego were more profuse in their greetings to the young men, and it
+devolved upon the latter to introduce them to the distinguished
+strangers. There was but one other American there, a millionaire
+whose name is a household word in the states and whose money was at
+that time just beginning to assert itself as a menace to the great
+commercial interests of the old world. He welcomed his fellow New
+Yorkers with no small show of delight. The expression of relief on
+his face plainly exposed a previous fear that he was unspeakably
+alone in this assemblage of continental aristocrats.
+
+At the table, Quentin sat between an Austrian duke and a German
+named Von Kragg. He was but two seats removed from Prince Ugo, while
+Savage was on the other side of the table, almost opposite Quentin.
+On Dickey's right sat the Duke Laselli, and next to that individual
+was the American millionaire. Directly across the broad table from
+Quentin was the tall rakish-looking Count Diego Sallaconi.
+
+"Ob, nobde gap sansan wobble wibble raggle dully pang rubby dub,
+bob," said the baron, in his best French, addressing the statuesque
+American with the broad shoulders and the intense countenance.
+
+"With all my heart," responded Mr. Quentin, with rare composure and
+equal confidence. He had no more conception of what the baron
+intended to say than he would have had if the planet Mars had
+wigwagged a signal to him, but he was polite enough to do anything
+for the sake of conversation. The baron smiled gladly, even
+approvingly; it was plain that he understood Phil's English fully as
+well as that gentleman understood his French. Quentin heard his name
+uttered by Prince Ugo and turned from the baron.
+
+"Mr. Quentin, Prince Kapolski tells me he saw our friends, the
+Saxondales, in London last week. They were preparing to go to their
+place in the country. You have been there, have you not?" Prince Ugo
+turned his gleaming eyes and engaging smile upon the man addressed.
+
+"On several occasions," responded the other. "Saxondale is a famous
+hunter and he gave me some rare sport. When do they leave London?"
+he asked, indifferently.
+
+"They were to have started this week," said the Russian prince,
+"and there is to be quite a large party, I hear. A young American
+who was with them was called away suddenly last week, and, as the
+trip was arranged for his special amusement--by the Lady Jane, I was
+told--his departure upset the plans a trifle." Quentin and Savage,
+who had heard the remarks glanced at one another in surprise.
+
+"I should enjoy being with them," said the former, warmly. "My
+friend, Mr. Savage, was invited, I think," he added, and Dickey
+studiously consulted the salad. He had not been invited and the
+announcement that the Saxondales were off for the north of England
+was news to him.
+
+"Oh, certainly," exclaimed Ugo; "he was their guest. And the Lady
+Jane arranged it, you say, Kapolski? Draft horses could not have
+been strong enough to pull me away from London had she planned for
+my pleasure. You must discover the fault in him, my dear Quentin,
+and hold him to account for a very reprehensible act." Ugo knew that
+Dickey was listening, and the first point in a beautiful game was
+scored.
+
+"Mr. Savage does not care for shooting," said Phil, flushing
+slightly. The Russian prince had been looking at him intently; a
+peculiar flash came into his eye when Quentin made the defensive
+remark.
+
+"But there is game to be had without resorting to the gun," he said,
+smiling blandly.
+
+"One doesn't have to go to a shooting box to bag it, though," said
+Sallaconi, mischievously.
+
+"I think the hunter uses bow and arrow exclusively," added Ugo, and
+there was a general laugh, which sent a streak of red up Dickey's
+cheeks. If the Russian's news was true he had been purposely
+slighted by the Saxondales. And yet it was not altogether
+humiliation or wounded pride that brought the red to his cheek. He
+and the Lady Jane had quarrelled just before he left her, and while
+he hated her and she hated him and all that, still he did not care
+to hear her name bandied about by the wine sippers at this
+delectable table.
+
+"What are they talking about?" asked the American millionaire of
+Dickey, his curiosity aroused by the laughter of a moment before.
+
+"About as nasty as they can," growled Dickey. "That's their style,
+you know."
+
+"Whew! You don't have much of an opinion of nobility. Beware of the
+prince," said the other, in a low tone.
+
+"You couldn't insult some of them with a deliberate and well-aimed
+kick," remarked the younger man, sourly. The Duke Laselli's ears
+turned a shade pinker under his oily, swarthy skin, for the words
+penetrated them in spite of the speaker's caution.
+
+"A toast," said the Russian prince, arising from his seat beside
+Ravorelli. The guests arose and glasses almost met in a long line
+above the center of the table. Ugo alone remained seated as if
+divining that they were to drink to him. For the first time Quentin
+closely observed the Russian. He was tall and of a powerful frame,
+middle-aged and the possessor of a strong, handsome face on which
+years of dissipation had left few weakening marks. His eyes were
+narrow and as blue as the sky, his hair light and bushy, his beard
+coarse and suggestive of the fierceness of the wild boar. His voice
+was clear and cutting, and his French almost perfect. "We drink to
+the undying happiness of our host, the luckiest prince in all the
+world. May he always know the bliss of a lover and never the cares
+of a husband; may his wedded state be an endless love story without
+a prosaic passage; may life with the new Princess of Ravorelli be a
+poem, a song, a jub late, with never a dirge between its morn and
+its midnight."
+
+"And a long life to him," added Quentin, clearly. As they drank the
+eyes of Prince Ugo were upon the last speaker, and there was a
+puzzled expression in them. Count Sallaconi's black eyebrows shot up
+at the outer ends and a curious grimness fastened itself about his
+mouth and nose.
+
+"I thank you, gentlemen," responded Ugo, arising. "Will you divide
+the toast with me in proposing the happiness of the one who is to
+bring all these good things into my life?" The half-emptied glasses
+were drained. Dickey Savage's eyes met Quentin's in a long look of
+perplexity. At last an almost imperceptible twinkle, suggestive of
+either mirth or skepticism, manifested itself in his friend's eyes
+and the puzzled observer was satisfied.
+
+When, in the end, the diners pushed their chairs back from the table
+and passed into another room, it was far past midnight, and the real
+revelry of the night was at hand. Reckless, voluptuous women from
+the vaudeville houses and dance halls appeared, and for hours the
+wine-soaked scions of nobility reeked in those exhibitions which
+shock the sensibilities of true men. Four men there were who tried
+to conceal their disgust while the others roared out the applause of
+degenerates.
+
+"I am not a saint, but this is more than I can stand. It is
+sickening," said Quentin.
+
+"And these miserable specimens of European manhood delight in it,"
+said Savage, his face aflame with shame and disgust. "It is too vile
+for a man who has a breath of manhood in him to encourage, and yet
+these bounders go crazy with rapture. Gad, don't ask what kind of
+women they are. Ask how it is the world has ever called these
+fellows men."
+
+"Did I understand you correctly, sir?" asked a cold voice at his
+side, and Dickey turned to look into the flaming eyes of Prince
+Kapolski. Count Sallaconi was clutching the left arm of the big
+Russian, and there was a look of dismay in his face. He flashed a
+glance of fierce disappointment at Quentin, and then one of
+helplessness across the room at Prince Ugo.
+
+"If you understand English you probably did," said Dickey, pale but
+defiant.
+
+"Come, prince," began the agitated count, but Kapolski shook him
+off.
+
+"You must apologize for your comments, sir," said the prince, in
+excellent English.
+
+"I can't apologize, you know. I meant what I said," said Dickey,
+drawing himself up to the limit of his five feet ten. The Russian's
+open hand came violently in contact with the young fellow's cheek,
+driving the tears to the surface of his eyes They were tears of
+anger, pain and mortification, not of submission or fear.
+
+His clenched right hand shot outward and upward, and before the
+Russian knew what had happened a crashing blow caught him full in
+the jaw, and he would have gone sprawling to the floor had not Diego
+Sallaconi caught him in his arms. Quentin grasped Dickey and pulled
+him away, while others rushed in and held the roaring, sputtering
+victim.
+
+All was confusion and excitement in an instant. Quentin and the
+millionaire drew their lithe countryman away from the gathering
+crowd, one cheek white as a sheet, the other a bright pink, and Phil
+hoarsely whispered to him:
+
+"I don't know what we're in for, Dickey, so for heaven's sake let's
+get out of here. We don't want any more of it. You gave him a good
+punch and that's enough."
+
+"You broke up the show all right enough," exclaimed the millionaire,
+excitedly. "The fairies ran over each other trying to get out of the
+room. You're as game as a fighting cock, too."
+
+"Let me alone, Phil!" panted Dickey. "You don't suppose I'm going to
+run from that big duffer, do you? Let go!"
+
+"Don't be a fool, Dickey," said his friend, earnestly. Just then a
+pale-faced, sickly-looking waiter came up from behind and hoarsely
+whispered in Quentin's ear:
+
+"Get out, quick! The big prince made a mistake. He was to have
+quarrelled with you, Monsieur." He was gone before he could be
+questioned.
+
+"See!" exclaimed Dickey. "It was a job, after all, and the dago is
+at the bottom of it!"
+
+"Sh! Here he comes with the Russian and the whole pack behind them.
+It's too late; we can't run now," said Phil, despairingly. As Ugo
+and Kapolski crossed the room, the former, whose face was white with
+suppressed passion, hissed under his breath into the ear of the
+raging Russian:
+
+"You fool, it was the other one--the tall one! You have quarrelled
+with the wrong man. The big one is Quentin, Kapolski. How could you
+have made such a mistake?"
+
+"Mistake or no mistake, he has struck me, and he shall pay for it.
+The other can come later," growled the Russian, savagely.
+
+"Gentlemen, this is no place to fight. Let us have explanations--"
+began Ugo, addressing Quentin more than Savage, but the latter
+interrupted:
+
+"Call off your dogs and we will talk it over," he said.
+
+"Dickey!" cautioned his friend.
+
+"I do not understand you, Mr. Savage. My dogs? Oh, I see, Mr.
+Quentin; he is mad with anger," said the prince, deprecatingly.
+
+"There can be no explanations," snarled Kapolski. "My card,
+Monsieur," and he threw the pasteboard in the young American's face.
+
+"Damn your impudence," exploded Quentin, now ready to take the fight
+off the hands of the one on whom it had been forced through error.
+"You ought to be kicked downstairs for that."
+
+"You will have that to recall, Monsieur, but not until after I have
+disposed of your valiant friend," exclaimed Kapolski.
+
+"We are not in the habit of waiting for a chance to dispose of such
+affairs," said Quentin, coolly. "We fight when we have a cause and
+on the spot."
+
+"Do you expect civilized men to carry arms into drawing-rooms?"
+sneered Kapolski. Ugo's face was lighting up with pleasure and
+satisfaction and Sallaconi was breathing easier.
+
+"I'm speaking of hands, not arms," said Phil, glaring at the other.
+
+"I'll fight him in a second," cried Dickey.
+
+"Gentlemen, gentlemen! Be calm! Let this affair be arranged by your
+seconds and in the regular manner," expostulated Ugo. "This is very
+unusual, and I must beg of you to remember that you are in my
+rooms."
+
+"That is the rub, Prince Ravorelli. It has happened in your rooms,
+and I want to say to you that if evil befalls my friend, I shall
+hold you to account for it," said Quentin, turning on him suddenly.
+
+"What do you mean, sir?"
+
+"You know what I mean. I can and am ready to fight my own battles."
+
+"This outrageous brawl is none of my affair, Mr. Quentin, and I do
+not like your threat. You and I should do all in our power to
+prevent it from going farther. Your friend was too free with his
+words, I am told. If he did not like my entertainment, he should
+have left the room."
+
+"Well, I didn't like it, if you want to know," said Dickey. "And I
+don't care a continental who heard what I said."
+
+"Does he still want to fight with his hands?" demanded Kapolski, now
+cool and ironical. There was an infuriating attempt on his part to
+speak as if he were addressing a small, pouting child.
+
+"Anything--anything! The only point is, you'll have to fight
+to-night--right now. I've two or three friends here who'll see that
+I get fair play." said Dickey, discretion flying to the wind.
+
+"You shall fight and here!" exclaimed the Russian. "But you shall
+fight like a gentleman for once in your life. I will not claw and
+scratch with you, like the women do, but with any weapon you name."
+
+Dickey's valor did not fade, but his discretion came to the surface
+with a suddenness that took his breath away. He turned to speak to
+Quentin and the millionaire. Phil's face was deathly white, and
+there was a pleading look in his eyes. The millionaire was trembling
+like a leaf.
+
+"I guess I'll take pistols," said Dickey, slowly. "I can't hit the
+side of a barn, but he can't bluff me, damn him."
+
+"Great Scott, Dickey! Don't do it, don't do it!" whispered Quentin.
+"This is my fight, you know it is, and I won't let you--"
+
+"You can't help it, old boy. He'll probably get me, but I may be
+lucky enough to have a bullet land in him. My only chance is to aim
+anywhere but at him, shut my eyes, and trust to luck." Then turning
+to Kapolski he said, deliberately: "Pistols, and here, if the prince
+does not object."
+
+"Cannot this affair be postponed--" began Ugo, desperately.
+
+"Not unless your friend forgets that I punched his head. It is now
+or never with me," said Dickey.
+
+"I insist that it is my right to fight this man!" exclaimed Quentin,
+standing forth. "I first expressed the opinion which Mr. Savage
+merely echoed and to which Prince Kapolski took exception."
+
+"But you did not strike me. In any event, you shall come next, Mr.
+Quentin; I shall take you on immediately after I have disposed of
+your cockadoodle friend," said Kapolski, throwing aside his coat.
+"You have pistols here, Prince Ravorelli?"
+
+"This is murder," cried the millionaire, "and I shall take it before
+the United States government."
+
+"Dickey! Dickey!" cried Phil, helplessly, as Savage began to remove
+his coat.
+
+"I have weapons, if you insist, gentlemen," said Ugo. At his words
+intense excitement prevailed, for now there could be no doubt as to
+the result of the quarrel. Count Sallaconi hurried away for the
+pistols, smiling significantly as he passed his prince. His smile
+said that Kapolski would kill two men that night.
+
+"For God's sake, Dickey, be careful, if you must fight. Take
+deliberate aim and don't lose your nerve," cried Quentin, grasping
+him by the arms. "You are as cold as ice."
+
+"I haven't fired a pistol more than a dozen times in my life," said
+Dickey, smiling faintly.
+
+"Then shoot low," said the millionaire.
+
+"Your second, Monsieur?" said the Austrian duke, coming to Savage's
+side.
+
+"Mr. Quentin will act, Monsieur le Duc. We may need a surgeon."
+
+"Dr. Gassbeck is here."
+
+It was hurriedly agreed that the men should stand at opposite ends
+of the room, nearly twenty feet apart, back to back. At the word
+given by Prince Ugo, they were to turn and fire.
+
+Sallaconi came in with the pistol case and the seconds examined the
+weapons carefully. A moment later the room was cleared except for
+the adversaries, the seconds, and Prince Ugo.
+
+There was the stillness of death. On the face of the Russian there
+was an easy smile, for was not he a noted shot? Had he ever missed
+an adversary in a duel? Dickey was pale, but he did not tremble as
+he took the pistol in his hand.
+
+"Good-bye, Phil," was all he said. Poor Quentin turned his face away
+as he clasped his hand, and he could only murmur:
+
+"If he hits you, I'll kill him."
+
+A moment later the word "fire" came and the two men whirled into
+position. Dickey's arm went up like a flash, the other's more
+cruelly deliberate. Two loud reports followed in quick succession,
+the slim American's nervous finger pressed the trigger first. He had
+not taken aim. He had located his man's position before turning
+away, and the whole force of his will was bent on driving the bullet
+directly toward the spot he had in mind. Kapolski's bullet struck
+the wall above Dickey's head, his deadly aim spoiled by the quick,
+reckless shot from the other end of the room.
+
+He lunged forward. Dickey's bullet had blown away part of the big
+Russian's chin and jaw, burying itself in the wall beyond.
+
+
+
+
+XV. APPROACH OF THE CRISIS
+
+
+Prince Ugo's face was livid, and his black eyes bulged with
+horrified amazement. The unscrupulous, daring, infallible duelist
+whom he had induced to try conclusions with Quentin in a regular and
+effective way, had been overthrown at the outset by a most peculiar
+transaction of fate. He had assured the Russian that Quentin was no
+match for him with the weapons common to dueling, and he had led him
+to believe that he was in little danger of injury, much less death.
+Kapolski, reckless, a despiser of all things American, eagerly
+consented to the plan, and Ugo saw a way to rid himself of a
+dangerous rival without the taint of suspicion besmirching his
+cloak. Sallaconi was an accomplished swordsman, but it would have
+been unwise to send him against Quentin. Ugo himself was a splendid
+shot and an expert with the blade, and it was not cowardice that
+kept him from taking the affair in his own hands. It was wisdom,
+cunning wisdom, that urged him to stand aloof and to go up to his
+wedding day with no scandal at his back. But the unexpected, the
+miraculous had happened. His friend, his brother prince, his
+unwitting tool, had gone down like a log, his vaunted skill
+surpassed by the marksmanship and courage of an accursed American.
+
+To his credit be it said that he did all in his power to preserve
+the life of Prince Kapolski. More than that, he did all that was
+possible to keep the story of the encounter from reaching the world.
+So powerful, so successful was his influence that the world at large
+knew nothing of the fight, the police were bribed, and the
+newspapers were thrown completely off the scent.
+
+Ugo's first thought after the fall of Kapolski was to prevent his
+opponent from leaving the room alive, but common sense came to his
+relief a second later, and he saw the folly of taking a stand
+against the victor. He rushed to Kapolski's side and helped to
+support the moaning man's body. The surgeon was there an instant
+later, and Dickey, as white as a ghost, started mechanically toward
+the fallen foe. Ouentin stood like a man of stone, stunned by relief
+and surprise. One glance at the bloody, lacerated face and the
+rolling eyes caused Savage to flee as if pursued by devils.
+
+For hours Quentin and Turk sought to comfort and to quiet him; the
+millionaire, who refused to desert them, sat up all night to manage
+the information bureau, as he called it. He personally inquired at
+Ugo's rooms, and always brought back reassuring news, which Quentin
+doubted and Dickey utterly disbelieved At four o'clock Prince Ugo
+himself, with Duke Laselli, came to Quentin's rooms with the word
+that Kapolski was to be taken to a hospital, and that Dr. Gassbeck
+pronounced his chance for recovery excellent. The prince assured Mr.
+Savage that secrecy would be preserved, but advised him to leave
+Brussels at the earliest possible moment. Kapolski's death, if it
+came, would command an investigation, and it would be better if he
+were where the law could not find him.
+
+Quentin with difficulty restrained from openly accusing the prince
+of duplicity. Afterthought told him how impotent his accusation
+would have been, for how could he prove that the Russian was acting
+as an agent?
+
+Just before daylight Turk saw them take Prince Kapolski from the
+hotel in an ambulance, and, considering it his duty, promptly
+followed in a cab. The destination of the ambulance was the side
+street entrance to one of the big hospitals in the upper part of the
+town, and the men who accompanied the prince were strangers to the
+little observer. Prince Ugo was not of the party, nor were Laselli
+and Sallaconi. On his return to the Bellevue he had a fresh task on
+his hands. He was obliged to carry a man from Quentin's apartments
+and put him to bed in the millionaire's room, farther down the hall.
+The millionaire--for it was he--slept all day and had a headache
+until the thirtieth of the month. Turk put him to bed on the
+twenty-seventh.
+
+During the forenoon Prince Ugo and Count Sallaconi called at
+Quentin's rooms. They found that gentleman and Mr. Savage dressed
+and ready for the street.
+
+"Good morning," said Dickey, pleasantly, for the two Americans had
+determined to suppress, for diplomatic reasons, any show of
+hostility toward the Italians. The visitors may not have exposed
+their true feelings, but they were very much astounded and not a
+little shocked to find the duelist and his friend in the best of
+spirits.
+
+"And how did you sleep?" asked Ugo, after he had expressed his
+sorrow over the little unpleasantry of the night before, deploring
+the tragic ending to the night of pleasure.
+
+"Like a top," lied Dickey, cheerfully.
+
+"I was afraid the excitement might have caused you great uneasiness
+and--ah--dread," said the prince. The count was industriously
+engaged in piercing with his glittering eyes the tapestry in a far
+corner of the room. Mr. Savage possessed the manner of a man who
+shoots someone every morning before breakfast.
+
+"Not in the least; did it, Quentin?"
+
+"He slept like a baby."
+
+"By the way, before I forget it, Prince Ugo, how is the gentleman I
+shot last night--ah, what was his name?" asked Dickey, slapping his
+leg carelessly with his walking stick.
+
+"Prince Kapolski is in the hospital, and I fear he cannot recover,"
+said the prince. "I came to tell you this that you may act
+accordingly and with all the haste possible."
+
+"O, I don't know why I should run away. Everybody there will testify
+that the fight was forced upon me. You will swear to that, yourself,
+Prince Ugo, and so will the count. I had to fight, you know."
+
+"It seems to me, Mr. Savage, that you were rather eager to fight. I
+cannot vouch for your safety if the prince dies," said Ugo, coolly.
+
+"But he isn't going to die. I did not shoot to kill and the ball hit
+him just where I intended it should--on the chin. He'll be well in a
+couple of weeks. True, he may not feel like eating tough beefsteak
+with that jaw for some time, but I knew a fellow once who was able
+to eat very comfortably after six weeks. That was as good a shot as
+I ever made, Phil," said Dickey, reflectively.
+
+"I think Buckner's nose was a cleaner shot. It wasn't nearly so
+disgusting," said Phil.
+
+"Do you mean to say you are able to hit a man just where you
+please?" demanded the count.
+
+"Provided he does not hit me first," said Mr. Savage. "Gentlemen,
+let me order up a quiet little drink. I am afraid the unfortunate
+affair of last night has twisted your nerves a bit. It was rather
+ghastly, wasn't it?"
+
+When the four parted company in front of the hotel, a quarter of an
+hour later, the two Italians sat down to reflect. They wondered
+whether Mr. Savage usually carried a pistol in his pocket, and they
+agreed that if he did have one of his own he would be much more
+accurate with it than with a strange one, such as he had used the
+night before. The two Americans were not jubilant as they strolled
+up the street. They had put on a very bold front but they were
+saying to themselves that Kapolski's death would be a very
+disastrous calamity. Cold perspiration stood on Dickey's brow and he
+devoutly prayed that his victim would recover.
+
+"I'd feel like a butcher to the last day of my life," he groaned.
+
+"The big brute got what he deserved, Dickey, but that isn't going to
+relieve us if he should die. Prince Ugo would use it as an excuse to
+drive you out of Europe and, of course, I would not desert you. It
+was my affair and you were unlucky enough to get into it. There is
+one thing that puzzles me. I directly insulted Ravorelli last night.
+Why does he not challenge me? He must be positive that I recognize
+him as Pavesi and can ruin him with a word. I am told he is a
+remarkable shot and swordsman, and I don't believe he is a coward."
+
+"Why should he risk his head or his heart if he can induce other men
+to fight for him?"
+
+"But it seems that he has traitors in his camp. I wonder who that
+waiter was?"
+
+After a long silence Dickey dolefully asked: "Say, do you believe
+the Saxondales turned me down on that shooting box party?"
+
+"I can't believe it. All is well between you and Lady Jane, of
+course?"
+
+"As well as it can ever be," said the other, looking straight ahead,
+his jaws set.
+
+"Oho! Is it all off?"
+
+"Is what all off?" belligerently.
+
+"O, if you don't know, I won't insist on an answer. I merely
+suspected a thickness."
+
+"That we were getting thick, you mean? You were never more mistaken
+in your life. The chances are I'll never see her again. That's not
+very thick, is it?"
+
+"I saw a letter just now for you, in my box at the hotel. Looked
+like a young woman's chirography, and it was from London--"
+
+"Why the devil didn't you tell me it was there?" exploded Dickey.
+
+"Does Lady Jane make an R that looks like a streak of lightning with
+all sorts of angles?"
+
+"She makes a very fashionable--what do you mean by inspecting my
+mail? Are you establishing a censorship?" Dickey was guilty of an
+unheard of act--for him. He was blushing.
+
+"My boy, I did not know it was your property until after I had
+carefully deciphered every letter in the name. I agree with you; she
+writes a very fashionable alphabet. The envelope looked thick, to
+say the least. It must contain a huge postscript."
+
+"Or a collection of all the notes I have written to her. I'll go
+back, if you don't mind, however. I'm curious to know who it's
+from."
+
+Dickey went back to read his voluminous letter, and Quentin seated
+himself on a bench in the park. A voice from behind brought him
+sharply from a long reverie.
+
+"Mr. Quentin, last night, possibly in the heat of excitement, you
+inferred that I was in some way accountable for the controversy
+which led to the meeting between Prince Kapolski and your friend. I
+trust that I misunderstood you."
+
+Quentin was on his feet and facing Prince Ravorelli before the
+remark was fairly begun, and he was thinking with greater rapidity
+than he had ever thought before. He was surprised to find Ugo, suave
+and polite as ever, deliberately, coolly rushing affairs to a
+climax. His sudden decision to abandon the friendly spirit exhibited
+but half an hour before was as inexplicable as it was critical. What
+fresh inspiration had caused him to alter his position?
+
+"We say many things when we are under stress of excitement," said
+Phil, sparring for time and his wits. Count Sallaconi was standing
+deferentially beside the prince. Both gentlemen had their hats in
+their hands, and the air was pregnant with chill formality.
+
+"Can you recall my words, Prince Ravorelli?"
+
+"You said that you would hold him to account if your friend--" began
+the count, but Quentin turned upon him coolly.
+
+"My quarrel, if there is one, is with the prince, Count Sallaconi.
+Will you kindly allow him to jog his own memory?"
+
+"I do not like your tone, Mr. Quentin," said the count, his eyes
+flashingly angrily. Phil's blood was up. He saw it was useless to
+temporize, and there was no necessity for disguising his true
+feelings. They had come to the point where all that had lain
+smothered and dormant was to be pricked into activity; the mask was
+to be thrown down with the gauntlet.
+
+"So much the better; you are not in doubt as to what I meant. Now,
+Prince Ravorelli, may I ask you to speak plainly?"
+
+"Your remark of last night was one that I believe I would be
+justified in resenting," said the prince, flicking the ash from his
+cigarette, but not taking his burning eyes from Quentin's face.
+There was not a tinge of cowardice in his eyes.
+
+"It is your privilege, sir, and I meant precisely what I said."
+
+"Then I have to demand of you an apology and a satisfctory
+explanation."
+
+"'I presume it would be travesty on politeness if I were to ask you
+to be seated, so we may stand up to each other and talk it over. In
+the first place, I have no apology to make. In the second place, I
+cannot give an explanation that would be satisfactory to you. Last
+night I said I would hold you to account if Mr. Savage was hurt. He
+was not hurt, so I will not carry out my threat, if you choose to
+call it such."
+
+"You enlarge the insult, Mr. Quentin," said Ugo, with a deadly tone
+in his voice.
+
+"You may as well know, Prince Ravorelli, that I have long been
+acquainted with the fact that you bear me no good will. Frankly, you
+regard me as a man dangerous to your most cherished aspirations, and
+you know that I heard Giovanni Pavesi sing in days gone by. You have
+not been manly enough to meet me fairly, up to this instant. I am
+perfectly well aware that Prince Kapolski was your guest last night
+for no other purpose than to bring about an affray in which I was to
+have been the victim of his prowess and your cleverness."
+
+For a moment the two men glared at each other, immovably,
+unwaveringly. Prince Ugo's composure did not suffer the faintest
+relaxation under the direct charge of the American.
+
+"My only reply to that assertion is that you lie," he said, slowly.
+
+"This is a public place, Prince Ugo. I will not knock you down
+here."
+
+"It is not necessary for me to give you my card. Count Sallaconi
+will arrange the details with any friend you may name. You shall
+give me satisfaction for the aspersion you have cast upon my honor."
+He was turning away when Quentin stepped quickly in front of him.
+
+"If you mean that you expect me to fight a duel with you, I must say
+you are to suffer disappointment. I do not believe in duelling, and
+I believe only in killing a man when there is no other alternative.
+To deliberately set about to shoot another man down is not our
+method of settling an issue. We either murder in cold blood or we
+fight it out like men, not like stage heroes."
+
+"I will add then, sir, that you are a coward."
+
+"I have been brave enough to refrain from hiring men to do my
+fighting. We will fight, Prince Ravorelli, but we will not fight
+with weapons made by man. You call me a coward and I call you a
+scoundrel. We have hands and arms and with them we shall fight."
+
+"Count Sallaconi is my second, I do not care to hear another word--"
+
+"If Count Sallaconi comes to me with any ridiculous challenge from
+you, I'll knock him down and kick him across the street. My friend
+shot the face off of your poor tool last night. I do not care to
+repeat the tragedy. I shall not strike you here and now, because the
+act might mean my arrest and detention on no one knows what sort of
+a trumped-up charge. You need not bother me with any silly twaddle
+about swords and pistols I shall pay no attention to it. Ordinarily
+Americans do not delay actual combat. We usually fight it out on the
+spot and the best man wins. I will, however, give you the chance to
+deliberate over my proposition to settle our differences with our
+hands."
+
+Ravorelli calmly heard him to the end. Then he turned and strode
+away, smiling derisively.
+
+"You are the only American coward I have ever seen. I trust you
+appreciate, the distinction," he said, his white teeth showing in
+malicious ridicule. "Your friend, the hero of last night, should be
+proud of you."
+
+Quentin watched them until they were lost in the crowd near the
+Palace, his brain full of many emotions. As he walked into the hotel
+his only thought was of Dorothy and the effect the quarrel would
+have on their friendship.
+
+"Which will she choose?" he mused, after narrating to Savage the
+episode of the park. For the first time Dickey noticed the pallor in
+his face, the despair in his eyes, the wistful lines about his lips.
+
+"There's only one way to find out, old man," said he, and he did not
+succeed in disguising the hopelessness in his voice.
+
+"Yes, I guess I'm up to the last trench. I'm right where I have to
+make the final stand, let the result be what it may," said the
+other, dejectedly.
+
+"Don't give up, Phil. If you are to win, it will take more courage
+than you are showing now. A bold front will do more than anything
+else just at this stage. The result depends not entirely on how
+eager she is to become a princess, but how much she cares for the
+man who cannot make her a princess."
+
+"There's the rub. Does she care enough for me?"
+
+"Have you asked her how much she cares?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then, don't ask. Merely go and tell her that you know how much she
+cares. Go this afternoon, old man. O, by the way, Lady Jane sends
+her love to you, and wants to know if you will come with me to
+Ostend to-morrow to meet her and Lady Saxondale."
+
+
+
+
+XVI. THE COURAGE OF A COWARD
+
+
+"Tell Mr. Quentin I cannot see him," was Miss Garrison's response
+when his card was sent to her late that afternoon. The man who
+waited nervously in the hall was stunned by this brief, summary
+dismissal. If he was hurt, bewildered by the stinging rebuff, his
+wounds would have been healed instantly had he seen the sender of
+that cruel message. She sat, weak, pale and distressed, before her
+escritoire, striving to put her mind and her heart to the note she
+was writing to him whose card, by strange coincidence, had just come
+up. An hour ago he was in her thoughts so differently and he was in
+her heart, how deeply she had not realized, until there came the
+crash which shattered the ideal. He was a coward!
+
+Prince Ugo had been out of her presence not more than ten minutes,
+leaving her stunned, horrified, crushed by the story he laughingly
+told, when Quentin was announced. What she heard from Ugo
+overwhelmed her. She had worshiped, unknown to herself, the very
+thing in Philip Quentin that had been destroyed almost before her
+eyes--his manliness, his courage, his strength. Ugo deliberately
+told of the duel in his rooms, of Savage's heroism in taking up the
+battles of his timorous friend, of his own challenge in the morning,
+and of Quentin's abject, cringing refusal to fight. How deliciously
+he painted the portrait of the coward without exposing his true
+motive in doing so, can only be appreciated when it is said that
+Dorothy Garrison came to despise the object of his ridicule.
+
+She forgot his encounter with the porch visitor a fortnight
+previous; she forgot that the wound inflicted on that occasion was
+scarcely healed; she forgot all but his disgraceful behavior in the
+presence of that company of nobles and his cowardice when called to
+account by one brave man. And he an American, a man from her own
+land, from the side of the world on which, she had boasted, there
+lived none but the valorous. This man was the one to whom, a week
+ago, she had personally addressed an invitation to the wedding in
+St. Gudule--the envelope was doubtless in his pocket now, perhaps
+above his heart--and the writing of his name at that time had
+brought to her the deadly, sinking realization that he was more to
+her than she had thought.
+
+"Tell Miss Garrison that, if it is at all possible, I must see her
+at once," said Quentin to the bearer of the message. He was cold
+with apprehension, hot with humiliation.
+
+"Miss Garrison cannot see you," said the man, returning from his
+second visit to the room above. Even the servant spoke with a
+curtness that could not be mistaken. It meant dismissal, cold and
+decisive, with no explanation, no excuse.
+
+He left the house with his ears burning, his nerves tingling, his
+brain whirling. What had caused this astonishing change? Why had she
+turned against him so suddenly, so strangely? Prince Ugo! The truth
+flashed into his mind with startling force, dispelling all
+uncertainty, all doubt. Her lover had forstalled him, had requested
+or demanded his banishment and she had acquiesced, with a
+heartlessness that was beyond belief. He had been mistaken as to the
+extent of her regard for him; he had misjudged the progress of his
+wooing; he awoke to the truth that her heart was impregnable and
+that he had not so much as approached the citadel of her love.
+
+Dickey was pacing their rooms excitedly when Quentin entered. Turk
+stared gloomily from the open window, and there was a sort of
+savageness in his silent, sturdy back that bespoke volumes of
+restraint.
+
+"Good Lord, Phil, everybody knows you have refused to fight the
+prince. The newspaper men have been here and they have tried to pump
+me dry. Turk says one of the men downstairs is telling everybody
+that you are afraid of Ravorelli. What are we going to do?" He
+stopped before the newcomer and there was reproach in his manner.
+Quentin dejectedly threw himself into a chair and stared at the
+floor in silence.
+
+"Turk!" he called at last. "I want you to carry a note to Miss
+Garrison, and I want you to make sure that she reads it. I don't
+know how the devil you are to do it, but you must. Don't bother me,
+Dickey. I don't care a continental what the fellow downstairs says;
+I've got something else to think about." He threw open the lid to
+one of his trunks and ruthlessly grabbed up some stationery. In a
+minute he was at the table, writing.
+
+"Is Kapolski dead?" asked Dickey.
+
+"I don't know and don't care. I'll explain in a minute. Sit down
+somewhere and don't stare, Dickey--for the Lord's sake, don't stare
+like a scared baby." He completed the feverishly written note,
+sealed the envelope, and thrust it into Turk's hands. "Now, get that
+note to her, or don't come back to me. Be quick about it, too."
+
+Turk was off, full of fresh wonder and the importance of his
+mission. Quentin took a few turns up and down the room before he
+remembered that he owed some sort of an explanation to his
+companion.
+
+"She wouldn't see me," he said, briefly.
+
+"What's the matter? Sick?"
+
+"No explanation. Just wouldn't see me, that's all."
+
+"Which means it's all off, eh? The prince got there first and spiked
+your guns. Well? What have you written to her?"
+
+"That I am going to see her to-night if I have to break into the
+house."
+
+"Bravely done! Good! And you'll awake in a dungeon cell to-morrow
+morning, clubbed to a pulp by the police. You may break into the
+house, but it will be just your luck to be unable to break out of
+jail in time for the wedding on the 16th. What you need is a
+guardian."
+
+"I'm in no humor for joking, Dickey."
+
+"It won't be a joke, my boy. Now, tell me just what you wrote to
+her. Gad, I never knew what trouble meant until I struck Brussels.
+The hot water here is scalding me to a creamy consistency."
+
+"I simply said that she had no right to treat me as she did to-day
+and that she shall listen to me. I ended the note by saying I would
+come to her to-night, and that I would not be driven away until I
+had seen her."
+
+"You can't see her if she refuses to receive you."
+
+"But she will see me. She's fair enough to give me a chance."
+
+"Do you want me to accompany you?"
+
+"I intend to go alone."
+
+"You will find Ugo there, you know. It is bound to be rather trying,
+Phil. Besides, you are not sure that Turk can deliver the note."
+
+"I'd like to have Ravorelli hear everything I have to say to her,
+and if he's there he'll hear a few things he will not relish."
+
+"And he'll laugh at you, too."
+
+An hour later Turk returned. He was grinning broadly as he entered
+the room.
+
+"Did you succeed?" demanded Quentin, leaping to his feet. For answer
+the little man daintily, gingerly dropped a small envelope into his
+hand.
+
+"She says to give th' note to you an' to nobody else," he said,
+triumphantly. Quentin hesitated an instant before tearing open the
+envelope, the contents of which meant so much to him. As he read,
+the gloom lifted from his face and his figure straightened to its
+full height. The old light came back to his eyes.
+
+"She says I may come, Dickey. I knew she would," he exclaimed,
+joyously.
+
+"When?"
+
+"At nine to-night."
+
+"Is that all she says?"
+
+"Well--er--no. She says she will see me for the last time."
+
+"Not very comforting, I should say."
+
+"I'll risk it's being the last time. I tell you, Savage, I'm
+desperate. This damnable game has gone far enough. She'll know the
+truth about the man she's going to marry. If she wants to marry him
+after what I tell her, I'll--I'll--well, I'll give it up, that's
+all."
+
+"If she believes what you tell her, she won't care to marry him."
+
+"She knows I'm not a liar, Dickey, confound you."
+
+"Possibly; but she is hardly fool enough to break with the prince
+unless you produce something more substantial than your own
+accusation. Where is your proof?"
+
+This led to an argument that lasted until the time came for him to
+go to her home When he left the hotel in a cab he was thoroughly
+unstrung, but more determined than ever. As if by magic, there came
+to life the forces of the prince. While Ugo sat calmly in his
+apartment, his patient agents were dogging the man he feared,
+dogging him with the persistence and glee of blood-hounds. Courant
+and his hirelings, two of them, garbed as city watchmen, were on the
+Avenue Louise almost as soon as the man they were watching. By
+virtue of fate and the obstinacy of one Dickey Savage, two of
+Quentin's supporters, in direct disobedience of his commands, were
+whirling toward the spot on which so many minds were centered. From
+a distance Savage and Turk saw him rush from the carriage and up the
+broad stone steps that led to the darkened veranda. From other
+points of view, Jules Courant and his men saw the same and the
+former knew that Turk's visit in the afternoon had resulted in the
+granting of an interview. No sooner had Quentin entered the house
+than a man was despatched swiftly to inform Prince Ugo that he had
+not been denied.
+
+Mrs. Garrison met him in the hall alone. There was defiance in her
+manner, but he had not come thus far to be repulsed by such a trifle
+as her opposition. With rare cordiality he advanced and extended his
+hand.
+
+"Good evening, Mrs. Garrison. I hardly expected to find you and
+Dorothy quite alone at this time of night." She gave him her hand
+involuntarily. He had a way about him and she forgot her resolve
+under its influence. There was no smile on her cold face, however.
+
+"We are usually engaged at this hour, Mr. Quentin, but to-night we
+are at home to no one but you," she said, meaningly.
+
+"It's very good of you. Perhaps I would better begin by ending your
+suspense. Dorothy refused to see me to-day and I suspect the cause.
+I am here for an explanation from her because I think it is due me.
+I came also to tell you that I love her and to ask her if she loves
+me. If she does not, I have but to retire, first apologizing for
+what you may call reprehensibility on my part in presuming to
+address her on such a matter when I know she is the promised wife of
+another. If she loves me, I shall have the honor to ask you for her
+hand, and to ask her to terminate an engagement with a man she does
+not love. I trust my mission here to-night is fully understood."
+
+"It is very plain to me, Mr. Quentin, and I may be equally frank
+with you. It is useless."
+
+"You will of course permit me to hear that from the one who has the
+right to decide," he said.
+
+"My daughter consented to receive you only because I advised her to
+do so. I will not speak now of your unusual and unwarranted behavior
+during the past month, nor will I undertake to say how much
+annoyance and displeasure you have caused. She is the affianced wife
+of Prince Ravorelli and she marries him because she loves him. I
+have given you her decision." For a moment their eyes met like the
+clashing of swords.
+
+"Has she commissioned you to say this to me?" he asked, his eyes
+penetrating like a knife.
+
+"I am her mother, not her agent."
+
+"Then I shall respectfully insist that she speak for herself." If a
+look could kill a man, hers would have been guilty of murder.
+
+"She is coming now, Mr. Quentin. You have but a moment of doubt
+left. She despises you." For the first time his composure wavered,
+and his lips parted, as if to exclaim against such an assumption.
+But Dorothy was already at the foot of the stairs, pale, cold and
+unfriendly. She was the personification of a tragedy queen as she
+paused at the foot of the stairs, her nand on the newell post, the
+lights from above shining directly into a face so disdainful that he
+could hardly believe it was hers. There was no warmth in her voice
+when she spoke to him, who stood immovable, speechless, before her.
+
+"What have you to say to me, Phil?"
+
+"I have first to ask if you despise me," he found voice to say.
+
+"I decline to answer that question.''
+
+"Your mother has said so."
+
+"She should not have done so."
+
+"Then she has misrepresented you?" he cried, taking several steps
+toward her.
+
+"I did not say that she had."
+
+"Dorothy, what do you mean by this? What right have you to--" he
+began, fiercely.
+
+"Mr. Quentin!" exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, haughtily.
+
+"Well," cried he, at bay and doggedly, "I must know the truth. Will
+you come to the veranda with me, Dorothy?"
+
+"No," she replied, without a quaver.
+
+"I must talk with you alone. What I have to say is of the gravest
+importance. It is for your welfare, and I shall leave my own
+feelings out of it, if you like. But I must and will say what I came
+here to say."
+
+"There is nothing that I care to hear from you."
+
+"By all that's holy, you shall hear it, and alone, too," he
+exclaimed so commandingly that both women started. He caught a quick
+flutter in Dorothy's eyes and saw the impulse that moved her lips
+almost to the point of parting. "I demand--yes, demand--to be heard!
+Come! Dorothy, for God's sake, come!"
+
+He was at her side and, before she could prevent it, had grasped her
+hand in his own. All resistance was swept away like chaff before the
+whirlwind. The elder woman so far forgot her cold reserve as to
+blink her austere eyes, while Dorothy caught her breath, looked
+startled and suffered herself to be led to the door without a word
+of protest. There he paused and turned to Mrs. Garrison, whose
+thunderstruck countenance was afterward the subject of more or less
+amusement to him, and, if the truth were known, to her daughter.
+
+"When I have said all that I have to say to her, Mrs. Garrison, I'll
+bring her back to you."
+
+Neither he nor Dorothy uttered a word until they stood before each
+other in the dark palm-surrounded nook where, on one memorable
+night, he had felt the first savage blow of the enemy.
+
+"Dorothy, there can no longer be any dissembling. I love you. You
+have doubtless known it for weeks and weeks. It will avail you
+nothing to deny that you love me. I have seen--" he was charging,
+hastily, feverishly.
+
+"I do deny it. How dare you make such an assertion?" she cried,
+hotly.
+
+"I said it would avail you nothing to deny it, but I expected the
+denial. You have not forgotten those dear days when we were boy and
+girl. We both thought they had gone from us forever, but we were
+mistaken. To-day I love you as a man loves, only as a man can love
+who has but one woman in his world. Sit here beside me, Dorothy."
+
+"I will not!" she exclaimed, trembling in every fiber, but he
+gently, firmly took her arm and drew her to the wicker bench. "I
+hate you, Philip Quentin!" she half sobbed, the powerlessness to
+resist infuriating her beyond expression.
+
+"Forget that I was rough or harsh, dear. Sit still," he cried, as at
+the word of endearment she attempted to rise.
+
+"You forget yourself! You forget--" was all she could say.
+
+"Why did you refuse to see me this afternoon?" he asked, heedlessly.
+
+"Because I believed you to be what I now know you are," she said,
+turning on him quickly, a look of scorn in her eyes.
+
+"Your adorer?" he half-whispered.
+
+"A coward!" she said, slowly, distinctly.
+
+"Coward?" he gasped, unwilling to believe his ears. "What--I know I
+may deserve the word now, but--but this afternoon? What do you
+mean?"
+
+"Your memory is very short."
+
+"Don't speak in riddles, Dorothy," he cried.
+
+"You know how I loathe a coward, and I thought you were a brave man.
+When I heard--when I was told--O, it does not seem possible that you
+could be so craven."
+
+"Tell me what you have heard," he said, calmly, divining the truth.
+
+"Why did you let Dickey Savage fight for you last night? Where was
+your manhood? Why did you slink away from Prince Ravorelli this
+morning?" she said, intensely.
+
+"Who has told you all this?" he demanded.
+
+"No matter who has told me. You did play the part of a coward. What
+else can you call it?"
+
+"I did not have the chance to fight last night; your informant's
+plans went wrong Dickey was my unintentional substitute. As for
+Ravorelli's challenge this morning, I did not refuse to meet him."
+
+"That is untrue!"
+
+"I declined to fight the duel with him, but I said I would fight as
+we do at home, with my hands. Would you have me meet him with deadly
+weapons?"
+
+"I only know that you refused to do so, and that Brussels calls you
+a coward."
+
+"You would have had me accept his challenge? Answer!"
+
+"You lost every vestige of my respect by refusing to do so."
+
+"Then you wanted me to meet and to kill him," he said, accusingly.
+
+"I--I--Oh, it would not have meant that," she gasped.
+
+"Did you want him to kill me?" he went on, relentlessly.
+
+"They would have prevented the duel! It could not have gone so far
+as that," she said, trembling and terrified.
+
+"You know better than that, Dorothy. I would have killed him had we
+met. Do you understand? I would have killed the man you expect to
+marry. Have you thought of that?" She sank back in the seat and
+looked at him dumbly, horror in her face. "That is one reason why I
+laughed at his ridiculous challenge. How could I hope to claim the
+love of the woman whose affianced husband I had slain? I can win you
+with him alive, but I would have built an insurmountable barrier
+between us had he died by my hand. Could you have gone to the altar
+with him if he had killed me?"
+
+"O, Phil," she whispered.
+
+"Another reason why I refused to accept his challenge was that I
+could not fight a cur."
+
+"Phil Quentin!" she cried, indignantly,
+
+"I came here to tell you the truth about the man you have promised
+to marry. You shall hear me to the end, too. He is as black a
+coward, as mean a scoundrel as ever came into the world."
+
+Despite her protests, despite her angry denials, he told her the
+story of Ugo's plotting, from the hour when he received the
+mysterious warning to the moment when he entered her home that
+evening. As he proceeded hotly to paint the prince in colors ugly
+and revolting she grew calmer, colder. At the end she met his
+flaming gaze steadily.
+
+"Do you expect me to believe this?" she asked.
+
+"I mean that you shall," he said, imperatively. "It is the truth."
+
+"If you have finished this vile story you may go. I cannot forgive
+myself for listening to you. How contemptible you are," she said,
+arising and facing him with blazing eyes. He came to his feet and
+met the look of scorn with one which sent conviction to her soul.
+
+"I have told you the truth, Dorothy," he said simply. The light in
+her eyes changed perceptibly. "You know I am not a liar, and you
+know I am not a coward. Every drop of blood in my veins sings out
+its love for you. Rather than see you marry this man I would kill
+him, as you advise, even though it cost me my happiness. You have
+heard me out, and you know in your heart that I have told the
+truth."
+
+"I cannot, I will not believe it! He is the noblest of men, and he
+loves me. You do not know how he loves me. I will not believe you,"
+she murmured, and he knew his story had found a home. She sank to
+the seat again and put her hand to her throat, as if choking. Her
+eyes were upon the strong face above her, and her heart raced back
+to the hour not far gone when it whispered to itself that she loved
+the sweetheart of other days.
+
+"Dorothy, do you love me?" he whispered, dropping to her side,
+taking her hand in his. "Have you not loved me all these days and
+nights?"
+
+"You must not ask--you must not ask," she whispered.
+
+"But I do ask. You love me?"
+
+"No!" she cried, recovering herself with a mighty effort. "Listen! I
+did love you--yes, I loved you--until to-day. You filled me with
+your old self, you conquered and I was grieving myself to madness
+over it all. But, I do not love you now! You must go! I do not
+believe what you have said of him and I despise you! Go!"
+
+"Dorothy!" he cried, as she sped past him. "Think what you are
+saying!"
+
+"Good-by! Go! I hate you!" she cried, and was gone. For a moment he
+stood as if turned to stone. Then there came a rush of glad life to
+his heart and he could have shouted in his jubilance.
+
+"God, she loves me! I was not too late! She shall be mine!" He
+dashed into the house, but the closing of a door upstairs told him
+she was beyond his reach. The hall was empty; Mrs. Garrison was
+nowhere to be seen. Filled with the new fire, the new courage, he
+clutched his hat from the chair on which he had thrown it and rushed
+forth into the night.
+
+At the top of the steps he met Prince Ugo. The two men stopped
+stockstill, within a yard of each other, and neither spoke for the
+longest of minutes.
+
+"You call rather late, prince," said Phil, a double meaning in his
+words.
+
+"Dog!" hissed the prince.
+
+"Permit me to inform you that Miss Garrison has retired. It will
+save you the trouble of ringing. Good-night."
+
+He bowed, laughed sarcastically, and was off down the steps.
+Ravorelli's hand stole to an inside pocket and a moment later the
+light from the window flashed on a shining thing in his fingers. He
+did not shoot, but Quentin never knew how near he was to death at
+the hand of the silent statue that stood there and watched him until
+he was lost in the shadows. Then the prince put his hand suddenly to
+his eyes, moaned as if in pain, and slowly descended the steps.
+
+
+
+
+XVII. A FEW MEN AND A WOMAN
+
+
+A stealthy figure joined his highness at the foot of the steps,
+coming from the darkness below the veranda. It was Courant. What he
+said to the prince when they were safely away from the house caused
+the Italian's face to pale and his hands to twitch with rage. The
+French detective had heard and understood the conversation of the
+man and woman on the porch, and he had formed conclusions that drove
+all doubt from the mind of the noble lover.
+
+Quentin looked up and down the street for his cab. It was not in
+sight, but he remembered telling the man to drive to the corner
+below. The rainstorm that had been threatening dry and dusty
+Brussels all day was beginning to show itself in marked form. There
+were distant rumbles of thunder and faint flashes of lightning, and
+now and then the wind, its velocity increasing every minute, dashed
+a splattering raindrop in one's face. The storm for which the city
+had been crying was hurling itself along from the sea, and its full
+fury was almost ready to break. The few pedestrians were scurrying
+homeward, the tram cars were loaded and many cabs whirled by in the
+effort to land their fares at home before the rain fell in torrents.
+Phil drank in the cool, refreshing breeze and cared not if it rained
+until the streets were flooded. At the corner stood a cab, the
+driver softly swearing to himself. He swung down and savagely jerked
+open the door.
+
+"Back to the Bellevue," said the fare airily, as he climbed into the
+vehicle. The cab had started off into a cross-street, when Phil
+imagined he heard a shout in the distance. He looked forth but could
+see no one in the rushing darkness, The rattle of the cab, the
+growing roar of the night and toe swish of the rain, which was now
+falling quite heavily, drowned all other sounds and he leaned back
+contentedly.
+
+Suddenly the cab came to a stop, loud voices were heard outside and
+he was about to throw open the door when a heavy body was flung
+against the side of the vehicle. The next instant the half-lowered
+glass in the door was shattered and a voice from the rainy night
+cried:
+
+"Don't resist or you will be shot to pieces."
+
+"What the dev--" gasped Quentin, barely able to distinguish the form
+of a man at the door. Some strange influence told him that the point
+of a revolver was almost touching his breast and the word died in
+his mouth.
+
+"No outcry, Monsieur. Your valuables without a struggle. Be quick!
+There are many of us. You have no chance," came the hard voice, in
+good English.
+
+"But I have no valuables--"
+
+"Your diamond ring and your watch, at least, monsieur. The ring is
+in your vest pocket."
+
+"Search me, you scoundrel! I have no ring, and my watch is in my
+room. I'm mighty slim picking for such noted gentlemen as you. I
+presume I have the honor of meeting the diamond collectors the town
+is talking so much about." He was now aware of the presence of
+another man in the opposite window, and there was the same uncanny
+feeling that a second revolver was levelled at his person.
+
+"Step outside, Monsieur. It is cruel to force you into the rain, but
+we assure you it is very refreshing. It will make you grow. Whatever
+you choose to call us we are wet to the skin. This must not,
+therefore, be a fruitless job. Step forth, quickly, and do not
+resist."
+
+Quentin hesitated for an instant, and then seeing resistance was
+useless, boldly set foot upon the curbing. A flash of lightning
+revealed four or five men in the group. One of them had the driver
+covered with a pistol, and two of them were ready to seize the
+passenger. He observed, with amazement, that one of the men was a
+policeman in full uniform.
+
+"Officer!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see what they are doing?"
+
+"O, Monsieur," said the spokesman, pleasantly, "you may tell the
+police of Brussels that they cannot hunt us down until they hunt
+themselves down. What's that? A carriage? Quick! Your watch, your
+ring!"
+
+Far down the street could be seen the lamps of an approaching cab,
+and Quentin's heart took a bound. He had not feared injury, for he
+was willing to submit to the searching without resistance, but now
+he thrilled with the excitement of possible conflict. A second flash
+in the sky revealed altered conditions in the setting of the tragic
+scene. The driver was on his box and the policeman was climbing up
+beside him. A short man, masked to the chin, had pushed aside the
+man with the revolver and a harsh voice cried as the darkness shut
+out the vivid picture:
+
+"Short work of him! The knife!" "The club, Carl! Hell! Into the cab
+with him!" shouted another voice, and Phil began to strike out with
+his fists. But the attack was too sharp, the odds too great.
+Something crashed down upon his head, he felt himself lunge backward
+into the open cab door, and then a heavy body hurled itself upon his
+half-prostrate form. Another stinging blow caught him over the ear,
+and, as he lost consciousness, a tremendous force seemed to be
+crushing the breath from his body.
+
+A revolver cracked, but he did not hear it, nor did he know that
+friends were at hand. Before the miscreants could hurl his body into
+the cab a vehicle whirled up, the feeble glare from its lanterns
+throwing light upon the scene. The man who had fired from the door
+of the second cab leaped to the ground, followed by a companion, and
+in a moment they were among the scuffling robbers. Whatever might
+have been the original intentions of Quentin's assailants, they were
+not prepared to offer battle. Their aim was to escape, not to fight.
+A couple of shots were fired, a rush of feet ensued and the earth
+seemed to swallow all but the two newcomers and the limp figure that
+lay half inside the cab.
+
+In an instant Quentin was drawn from the cab by the taller of the
+two, the smaller having made a short dash in pursuit of the bandits.
+Blood rushed from the head of the unconscious man and he was a dead
+weight in the arms of his rescuer.
+
+"Good God, Phil! Have they killed you? Here, Turk! Never mind those
+fellows! Come here, quick; we must get him to a surgeon. I'm afraid
+they've fixed him. Into our cab with him! Gad, he's like a rag!" It
+was Dickey Savage, and he was filled with dread. Turk, exploding
+with impotent rage, and shivering with fear that his master was
+dead, came to his assistance and they were soon racing for the
+Bellevue. A pair of wondering, patient, driverless horses watched
+the departure, but they did not move from the spot where they had
+been checked by the first attack. Across the doubletree behind them
+hung the limp form of their driver, a great, gaping wound in his
+head. He had driven them for the last time, and they seemed to know
+that his cold lips could never again command them to "go on." Driven
+almost to the hilt, in the floor of the cab, was an ugly knife. Its
+point had been intended for Quentin's throat, but the hand that
+struck the blow was not as true as the will of its owner.
+
+In a high state of alarm and excitement the two men in the cab took
+their friend to his room, their advent creating great commotion in
+the hotel The wildest curiosity prevailed, and they were besieged
+with questions from hotel men, guests and the crowd that had found
+shelter from the storm. Within ten minutes the news was spreading
+forth over the city that a wealthy American had been held up and
+murdered by the daring diamond thieves. Police and reporters hurried
+to the hotel, and the uproar was intense. The house surgeon was soon
+at work with the bloody, unconscious victim; Savage and Turk, with
+their friend, the millionaire, keeping the crowd away from the
+couch. It was impossible to drive the people from the room until the
+police arrived.
+
+There were two ugly gashes in Quentin's head, one of which, it was
+feared at first, would disclose a fracture of the skull. Dr.
+Gassbeck, the surgeon who had attended a wounded prince in the same
+hotel less that twenty-four hours before, gave out as his opinion
+that Quentin's injuries were not dangerous unless unexpected
+complications appeared. Several stitches were taken in each cut, and
+the patient, slowly recovering from the effects of the blows and the
+anesthetics, was put to bed by his friends.
+
+Savage observed one thing when he entered the hotel with the wounded
+man. Prince Ugo and Count Sallaconi were among the first to come
+forward when the news of the attack spread through the office and
+corridors. The prince, in fact, was conversing with some gentlemen
+near the doors when the party entered. It was he who sent messengers
+to the central police office and who told the detectives where and
+how he had last seen the victim of the diamond thieves.
+
+Dickey sat all night beside his rolling, moaning friend, unnerved,
+almost despairing, but the morning brought the change that gladdened
+his heart and gave him a chance to forget his fears and
+apprehensions long enough to indulge in an impressive, though
+inadequate, degree of profanity, with continued reference to a
+certain set of men whom the world called thieves, but whom he
+designated as dogs.
+
+About ten o'clock a telegram from Ostend came to the hotel for him.
+It read: "Are you not coming to Ostend for us? Jane." An hour later
+a very pretty young lady in Ostend tore a telegram to pieces,
+sniffed angrily and vowed she would never speak to a certain young
+man again. His reply to her rather peremptory query by wire was
+hardly calculated to restore the good humor she had lost in not
+finding him at the dock. "Cannot come. Awfully sorry. Can't leave
+Brussels. Hurry on. Will explain here. Richard Savage." Her
+sister-in-law and fellow-traveler from London was mean enough to
+tease her with sly references to the beauty of Brussels women and
+the fickleness of all mankind. And so there was stored away for Mr.
+Savage's benefit a very cruel surprise.
+
+The morning newspapers carried the story of Quentin's adventure to
+the Garrison home, and Dorothy's face, almost haggard as the result
+of a sleepless night, grew whiter still, and her tired eyes filled
+with dread. She did not have to recall their conversation of the
+night before, for it had not left her mind, but her thoughts went
+back to a former conversation in which he had ridiculed the bandits.
+The newspaper fell from her nerveless fingers, and she left the
+table, her breakfast untouched, stealing miserably to her room, to
+escape her mother's inquisitive eyes.
+
+Her wretched state was not improved by the visit of a veiled young
+woman later in the day. The visitor was undoubtedly a lady, but the
+story she poured into the unwilling ears was so astounding that
+Dorothy dismissed her indignantly before it was finished. The
+low-voiced, intense stranger, young and evidently beautiful, told
+her that Quentin's injuries were not inflicted by thieves, but by
+the hired agents of one who had cause to fear him. Before Miss
+Garrison could remonstrate, the stranger went into the details of a
+plot so cowardly that she was horrified--horrified all the more
+because, in a large measure, it sustained the charges made against
+her lover by Philip Quentin. When at last she could no longer endure
+the villifying recital she bade the woman to leave the house, hotly
+refusing to give countenance to the lies she was telling. The
+stranger desisted only after her abject pleading had drawn from the
+other a bitter threat to have her ejected by the servants.
+
+"You will not hear me to the end, but you must give me the privilege
+of saying that I do not come here to do him or you an injury," said
+the visitor, tremulously. "It is to save you from him and to save
+him for myself. Mademoiselle, I love him. He would marry me were it
+not for you. You think jealousy, then, inspired this visit? I admit
+that jealousy is the foundation, but it does not follow that I am
+compelled to lie. Everything I have said and would say is true.
+Perhaps he loves you, but he loved me first. A week ago he told me
+that he loved me still. It was I who warned the American gentleman
+against him, and my reason is plain. I want him to win. It would
+mean death to me if it were known that I came to you with this
+story. Do you bid me go, or will you hear me to the end?"
+
+"You must go. I cannot listen to the infamous things you say
+about--about--him," said Dorothy, her voice choking toward the end.
+A horrible fear seized upon her heart. Was this woman mad or had
+Quentin told the truth? A new thought came to her and she grasped
+the woman's hand with convulsive fingers. "You have been sent here
+by Mr. Quentin! O, how plain it is! Why did I not see through it at
+once? Go back to your employer and tell him that--" She was crying
+hysterically when the woman snatched away her hand, and drawing
+herself to full height interrupted haughtily:
+
+"I have humbled myself that I might do you the greatest service in
+the world. You drive me from your presence and you call me a liar.
+All of that I must endure, but I will not suffer you to accuse this
+innocent man while I have voice to offer up in his defense. I may be
+some one's slave, but I am not the servant of any man. I do not know
+this American; he does not know me. I am my own agent and not his
+tool. What I have tried to tell you is true and I confess my actions
+have been inspired by selfish motives. Mademoiselle, the man you are
+to marry promised to make me his wife long before he knew you."
+
+"To make you his wife? Absurd! Men of his station do not marry, nor
+promise to marry, the grisettes or the--"
+
+"'Madam! It is not a grisette to whom you are speaking. The blood in
+my veins is as noble as that which flows in his, the name I
+bear--and perhaps disgrace, God help me!--is as proud as any in all
+France. But I have not millions, as you have. My face, my person may
+win and hold the heart, but I have not the gold with which to buy
+the soul. You will pardon my intrusion and you will forgive me for
+any pang I have caused. He would not harken to the appeals from my
+breaking heart, he would not give me all his love. There was left
+but one course to preserve what rightfully belongs to me, and I have
+followed it as a last resort Were you to tell him that a woman came
+to you with this story, he would deny everything, and he would be
+lost to me, even though you cast him off in the end. It is not in my
+power to command you to protect the woman who is trying to help you.
+You do not believe what I have told to you, therefore I cannot hope
+for pity at your hands. You will tell him that I have been here, and
+I shall pay the penalty for being the fool, the mad woman. I am not
+asking for pity. If I have lied to you I deserve nothing but the
+hardest punishment. You have one way to punish me for the wounds I
+inflict, but it is the same to me, no matter how it ends. If you
+marry him, I am lost; if you cast him off and yet tell him that it
+was I who first sowed the seed of distrust in your heart, I am lost.
+It will be the same--all the same! If he cannot wed you, he will
+come to me and I will forgive. Madam, he is not good enough for you,
+but he is all the world to me. He would wed you, but you are not the
+one he loves. You are all the world to one whose love is pure and
+honest. If you would save him, become his wife. O, Mademoiselle, it
+grieves me so to see the tears in those good eyes of yours!
+Farewell, and God bless and keep you."
+
+
+
+
+XVIII. ARRIVALS FROM LONDON
+
+
+Lady Saxondale and the young person with the stored-up wrath were
+met at the Gare du Nord by Mr. Savage, all smiles and good spirits.
+Quentin was rounding-to nicely, and there was little danger from
+complications. This fact coupled with the joy of seeing the girl who
+had been able to make him feel that life was not a shallow dream,
+sent him up to the two ladies with outstretched hands, a dancing
+heart and a greeting that brought smiles to the faces of crusty
+fellow-creatures who had not smiled in weeks.
+
+With a deference due to premeditated gallantry, he shook hands first
+with Lady Frances. His ebullition almost swept him to the point of
+greeting the two maids who stood respectfully near their mistresses.
+Then he turned his beaming face upon the Arctic individual with the
+pink parasol and the palm-leaf fan.
+
+"Awfully sorry, Lady Jane, but I really couldn't get to Ostend. You
+didn't have any trouble getting the right train and all that, did
+you?" he asked, vaguely feeling for the hand which had not been
+extended.
+
+"Not in the least, Mr. Savage. We delight in traveling alone. Do you
+see the baroness anywhere, Frances?" Mr. Savage stared in amazement.
+A distinct, blighting frost settled over the whole September world
+and his smile lost all but its breadth. The joy left his eyes and
+his heart like a flash, but his lips helplessly, witlessly
+maintained a wide-open hospitality until long after the inspiration
+was dead.
+
+"She is not here, I am afraid," responded Lady Saxondale, glancing
+through the hurrying crowd. "Have you seen the Baroness St. Auge,
+Mr. Savage? Or do you know her?"
+
+"I can't say that I have--er--I mean don't--no, I should say both,"
+murmured he distractedly. "Does she live here?"
+
+"She resides in a house, not in a railway station," observed Lady
+Jane, with a cutting sarcasm of which she was rather proud. Lady
+Saxondale turned her face away and buried a convulsive smile in her
+handkerchief.
+
+"I mean in Brussels," floundered Dickey, his wits in the wind. He
+was gazing dumbly at the profile of the slim iceberg that had so
+sharply sent the blast of winter across the summer of his content.
+
+"She certainly understood that we were to come on this train,
+Frances. You telegraphed her," said Lady Jane, ignoring him
+completely. She raised herself on her dainty tiptoes, elevated her
+round little chin and tried to peer over the heads of a very tall
+and disobliging multitude. Dickey, at a loss for words, stretched
+his neck also in search of the woman he did not know.
+
+"How very annoying," said Lady Saxondale, a faint frown on her
+brow. "She is usually so punctual."
+
+"Perhaps she--er--didn't get your telegram," ventured Dickey. "What
+sort of a looking--I mean, is she old or young?"
+
+"Neither; she is just my age," smiled Lady Saxondale. Dickey dumbly
+permitted the rare chance for a compliment to slip by. "Jane, won't
+you and Mr. Savage undertake a search for her? I will give William
+directions regarding the luggage." She turned to the man and the
+maids, and Mr. Savage and Lady Disdain were left to work out their
+salvation as best they could.
+
+"I can't think of troubling you, Mr. Savage. It won't be necessary
+for you to dodge around in this crowd to--"
+
+"No trouble, I assure you, Lady Jane. Be glad to do it, in fact.
+Where shall we go first?" demanded he, considerably flurried.
+
+"You go that way and I'll go this. We'll find her more easily," said
+she, relentlessly, indicating the directions.
+
+"But I don't know her," he cried.
+
+"How unfortunate! Would you know her if I were to describe her to
+you? Well, she's tall and very fair. She's also beautiful. She's
+quite stunning. I'm sure you'll know her." She was starting away
+when he confronted her desperately.
+
+"You'll have to go with me. I'll be arrested for addressing the
+wrong lady if I go alone, and you'll suffer the mortification of
+seeing them drag me off to jail."
+
+"The what? Why do you say mortification, Mr. Savage? I am quite
+sure--"
+
+"O, come now, Jane--aw--Lady Jane--what do you mean by that? What's
+all the row about? What has happened?" he cried.
+
+"I don't understand you, Mr. Savage."
+
+"Something's wrong, or you'd seem happier to see me, that's all," he
+said, helplessly. "Lord, all my troubles come at once. Phil is half
+dead, perhaps all dead, by this time--and here you come along,
+adding misery instead of--"
+
+"Phil--Mr. Quentin--what did you say, Dickey?" she cried, her
+haughty reserve fading like a flash.
+
+"Don't you know?" he cried. "Almost killed last night by--by
+robbers. Slugged him nearly to a finish. Horrible gashes--eight
+stitches"--he was blurting out excitedly, but she clasped his arm
+convulsively and fairly dragged him to where Lady Saxondale stood.
+
+"Oh, Dickey! They didn't kill--he won't die, will he? Why didn't you
+tell us before? Why didn't you telegraph?" she cried, and there was
+no wrath in the thumping, terrified little heart. Lady Saxondale
+turned quickly upon hearing the excited words of the girl who but a
+moment before had been the personification of reserve.
+
+"What are you saying, Jane? Is there anything wrong?" she asked.
+
+"Everything is wrong--Philip is dead!" cried Lady Jane, ready to
+faint. "Dickey says there are eight gashes, and that he is all dead!
+Why don't you tell us about it, Dickey?"
+
+"He's all right--not dead at all. Robber's held him up last night
+during the storm, and if help hadn't come just when it did they'd
+have made short work of him. But I can't tell you about it here, you
+know. If you'll allow me I'll take a look for the baroness."
+
+"I'll go with you," said Lady Jane, enthusiastically. "Dickey," she
+went on as they hurried away, "I forgive you."
+
+"Forgive me for what?" he asked.
+
+"For not coming to Ostend," demurely.
+
+"You really wanted me to come, did you, Jane?"
+
+"Yes, after I had been goose enough to telegraph to you, you know.
+You don't know how small I felt when you did not come," she hurried
+out, but his merry laugh cut short the humiliating confession.
+
+"And that was why you--"
+
+"Yes, that was why. Don't say another word about it, though. I was
+such a horrid little fool, and I am so ashamed of myself. And you
+were so worried all the time about dear Mr. Quentin," she pleaded,
+penitently.
+
+"You might have known that nothing short of death could have
+prevented me from coming to Ostend," said he softly. "But I've all
+sorts of news to tell you. When I tell you about the duel you'll go
+into convulsions; when you hear--"
+
+"A duel? Good heavens, how--I mean who--" she gasped, her eyes wider
+than ever.
+
+"I don't know how, but I do know who, Jane, I have shot a man!" he
+said, impressively.
+
+"Oh, oh, oh! Dickey!" she almost shrieked, coming helplessly to a
+standstill, a dozen emotions crowding themselves into her pretty,
+bewildered face.
+
+"Don't faint! I'll tell you all about it--to-night, eh?" he said,
+hastily. He was vastly afraid she might topple over in a swoon.
+
+"I can't wait!" she gasped. "And I will not faint. You must tell me
+all about it this instant. Is the other man--is he--where is he?"
+
+"He's in a hospital. Everybody's staring at us. What a fool I was to
+say anything about it, I won't tell you another word of it."
+
+"Oh, Dickey, please!" she implored. He was obdurate and her manner
+changed suddenly. With blighting scorn she exclaimed, "I don't
+believe a word you've said."
+
+"O, now, that's hardly a nice way--" he began, indignantly, catching
+himself luckily before floundering into her trap. "You will have to
+wait, just the same, Miss Lady Jane Oldham. Just now we are supposed
+to be searching for a baroness who is good enough to come to railway
+stations, you'll remember. Have you seen her?"
+
+At this juncture Lady Saxondale's voice was heard behind them, and
+there were traces of laughter in the tones.
+
+"Are you waiting for the mountain to come to you? Here is the
+baroness, delayed by an accident to her victoria." Mr. Savage was
+presented to the handsome, rather dashing lady, whose smile was as
+broad and significant as that which still left traces about Lady
+Saxondale's lips. He bowed deeply to hide the red in his cheeks and
+the confusion in his eyes. His companion, on the other hand, greeted
+the stranger so effusively that he found it possible during the
+moments of merry chatter to regain a fair proportion of his lost
+composure.
+
+The Baroness St. Auge was an English woman, famed as a whip, a
+golfer and an entertainer. Her salon was one of the most
+interesting, the most delightful in Brussels; her husband and her
+rollicking little boys were not a whit less attractive than herself,
+and her household was the wonder of that gay, careless city. The
+baron, a middle-aged Belgian of wealth, was as merry a nobleman as
+ever set forth to seek the pleasures of life. His board was known as
+the most bountiful, his home the cheeriest and most hospitable, his
+horses the best bred in all Brussels. He loved his wife and indulged
+her every whim, and she adored him. Theirs was a home in which the
+laugh seldom gave way to the frown, where happiness dwelt
+undisturbed and merriment kept the rafters twitching. With them the
+two London women were to stop until after the wedding. Saxondale was
+to visit his grim old castle in Luxemburg for several days before
+coming up to Brussels, and he was not to leave England for another
+week. Baron St. Auge was looking over his estates in the north of
+Belgium, but was expected home before the week's end.
+
+Mr. Savage was in an unusual flutter of exhilaration when he rushed
+into Quentin's presence soon after the ladies drove away from the
+Gare du Nord. The baroness had warmly insisted that he come that
+evening to regale them with the story of the robbery and the account
+of the duel, a faint and tantalizing rumor of which had come to her
+ears.
+
+"The baroness lives on the Avenue Louise, old man," he said, after
+he had described her glowingly. A long, cool drink ran down his dry
+throat before his listener, propped up in his bed and looking upon
+his friend with somber eyes, deigned to break the silence.
+
+"So you are to tell them about the duel Dickey," he said, slowly.
+
+"They're crazy about it."
+
+"I thought it was to be kept as dark as possible." Dickey's jaw
+dropped and his eyes lost their gleam of satisfaction.
+
+"By thunder, I--I forgot that!" he exclaimed. "What am I to do?" he
+went on after a moment of perplexity and dismay. The long, cool
+drink seemed to have left a disagreeable taste in his mouth and he
+gulped feebly.
+
+"Commit suicide, I should say. I see no other way out of it,"
+advised the man in the bed, soberly. The misery in Dickey's face was
+beyond description, and the perspiration that stood on his brow came
+not from the heat of the day.
+
+"Did you ever know a bigger ass than I, Phil? Now, did you,
+honestly?" he groaned.
+
+"I believe I can outrank you myself, Dickey. It seems to me we are
+out of our class when it comes to diplomacy. Give Lady Saxondale and
+Lady Jane my compliments to-night, and tell them I hope to see them
+before I sail for home."
+
+"What's that?" in astonishment.
+
+"Before I sail for home."
+
+"Going to give it up, are you?"
+
+"She thinks I'm a liar, so what is the use?"
+
+"You didn't talk that way this morning. You swore she believed
+everything you said and that she cares for you. Anything happened
+since then?"
+
+"Nothing but the opportunity to think it all over while these
+bandages hold my brain in one place. Her mind is made up and I can't
+change it, truth or no truth. She'll never know what a villian
+Ravorelli--or Pavesi--is until it is too late."
+
+"You'll feel better to-morrow, old man. The stitches hurt like the
+devil, don't they? Cheer up, old chap; I'm the one who needs
+encouragement. See what I have to face to-night. Good lord, there'll
+be three women, at least--maybe a dozen--begging, commanding me to
+tell all about that confounded shooting match, and I was getting
+along so nicely with her, too," he concluded, dolefully.
+
+"With the baroness? On such short acquaintance?"
+
+"No, of course not. With Jane Oldham. I don't know how I'm going to
+square it with her, by jove, I don't. Say, I'll bet my head I bray
+in my sleep, don't I? That's the kind of an ass I am."
+
+When he looked listlessly into Quentin's room late that evening he
+wore the air of a martyr, but he was confident he had scored a
+triumph in diplomacy. Diplomacy in his estimation, was the dignified
+synonym for lying. For an hour he had lied like a trooper to three
+women; he left them struggling with the conviction that all the rest
+of the world lied and he alone told the truth. With the perspiration
+of despair on his brow, he had convinced them that there had been no
+real duel--just a trifling conflict, in which he, being a good
+Yankee, had come off with a moderate victory. Lady Jane believed;
+Lady Saxondale was more or less skeptical; while the Baroness,
+although graciously accepting his story as it came from his
+blundering lips, did not believe a word of it. His story of the
+"robbery" was told so readily and so graphically that it could not
+be doubted.
+
+Like true women, Lady Saxondale and her sister, accompanied by their
+hostess and her brother, Colonel Denslow, seized the first favorable
+opportunity to call at the rooms of Mr. Quentin. They found him the
+next morning sitting up in a comfortable chair, the picture of
+desolation, notwithstanding the mighty efforts of Dickey Savage and
+the convivial millionaire. The arrival of the party put new life
+into the situation, and it was not long before Phil found his
+spirits soaring skyward.
+
+"Tell me the truth about this awful duel," commanded Lady Saxondale,
+after Dickey had collected the other members of the party about a
+table to which tall glasses with small stems were brought at his
+call.
+
+"I'm afraid Dickey has been a bit too loquacious," said he,
+smilingly.
+
+"He fibs so wretchedly, you know. One could see he had been told
+what not to say. You can trust me, Phil," she said, earnestly. And
+he told her all, from beginning to end. Not once did she interrupt,
+and but seldom did she allow horror to show itself in her clear,
+brave eyes.
+
+"And she will go on and marry this man, Phil. I am afraid she cannot
+be convinced--or will not, I should say," she said, slowly, at the
+end of the recital. "What a villain, what a coward he is!"
+
+"But she must not be sacrificed, Frances! She must be saved. Good
+God, can't something be done to drag her from the clutches of that
+scoundrel?" he almost groaned.
+
+"The clutches of her mother are more vicious than those of the prince.
+There is the power that dominates. Can it be broken?"
+
+"As well try to break down the Rocky Mountains. That woman has no
+heart--no soul, I'll swear. Dorothy has a mind and a will of her
+own, though, Frances. I feel that she loves me--something tells me
+she does, but she will not break this hateful compact. I am sure
+that I saw love in her eyes that last night, heard it in her voice,
+felt it in the way she dismissed me."
+
+"You made a mistake when you denounced him to her. It was but
+natural for her to defend him."
+
+"I know it, but I was driven to it. I saw no other way. She accused
+me of cowardice. Good heavens, I'd give my soul to be up now and
+able to call that villain's bluff. But I am in here for a week, at
+least, and the wedding is only two weeks away. When is Bob coming?"
+he cried, feverishly.
+
+"Be calm, Phil. You will gain nothing by working yourself into a
+frenzy. Bob will come when I send for him. It shall be at once, if
+you have need for him here."
+
+"I want him immediately, but I cannot ask him or you to mix in this
+miserable game. There may be a scandal and I won't drag you all into
+it," he said, dejectedly.
+
+"I'll send for Bob, just the same, dear boy. What are friends for,
+pray?"
+
+She left him with the firm and secret determination to carry the war
+for friendship's sake to the very door of Dorothy Garrison's
+stubborn heart, and that without delay.
+
+
+
+
+XIX. THE DAY OF THE WEDDING
+
+
+When Lord Bob reached Brussels on Friday he found affairs in a sorry
+shape. His wife's never-failing serenity was in a sad state of
+collapse. Quentin was showing wonderful signs of recuperation, and
+it almost required lock and key to keep him from breaking forth into
+the wildest indiscretions. Gradually and somewhat disconnectedly he
+became acquainted with existing conditions. He first learned that
+his wife had carried Quentin's banner boldly up to the walls of the
+fortress, and then--well, Lady Saxondale's pride was very much hurt
+by what happened there. Miss Garrison was exceedingly polite, but
+quite ungrateful for the kindness that was being bestowed upon her.
+She assured her ladyship that she was making no mistake in marrying
+Prince Ravorelli, and, if she were, she alone would suffer.
+
+"I am so furious with her, Bob, for marrying Prince Ugo that I am
+not going to the wedding," said Lady Saxondale.
+
+"Whew! That's a bracer! But, by the way, my dear, did you introduce
+any real proof that he is the scoundrel you say he is? Seems to me
+the poor girl is right in the stand she takes. She wants proof, and
+positive proof, you know. I don't blame her. How the deuce can she
+break it off with the fellow on the flimsy excuse that Phil Quentin
+and Lady Saxondale say he is a rascal? You've all been acting like a
+tribe of ninnies, if you'll pardon my saying so."
+
+"She is sensible enough to know that we would not misrepresent
+matters to her in such a serious case as this," she retorted.
+
+"What proof have you that Ravorelli is a villain?"
+
+"Good heavens, Bob, did he not try to have Phil murdered?" she
+exclaimed, pityingly.
+
+"Do you know that to be a positive fact?"
+
+"Phil and Mr. Savage are quite thoroughly convinced."
+
+"But if anyone asked you to go on to the witness stand and swear
+that Prince Ugo tried to take the life of Philip Quentin, could you
+do so?" he persisted.
+
+"You goose, I was not an eye-witness. How could I swear to such a
+thing?"
+
+"Well, if I understand the situation correctly, Miss Garrison is the
+judge, Ravorelli the accused, and you are one of the witnesses. Now,
+really, dear, how far do you imagine your hearsay evidence--which is
+no evidence at all--goes with the fair magistrate? What would be
+your verdict if some one were to come to you and say, 'Saxondale is
+a blackguard, a rascal, a cutthroat?'"
+
+"I confess I'd say it was not true," she said, turning quite red.
+
+"The chances are you wouldn't even ask for proof. So, you see, Miss
+Garrison behaved very generously when she condescended to hear your
+assertions instead of instructing the servant to direct you to the
+door."
+
+"She was above reproach, Bob. I never saw anyone so calm, so
+composed and so frigidly agreeable. If she had shown the faintest
+sign of anger, displeasure or even disgust, I could forgive her, but
+she acted just as if she were tolerating me rather than to lower
+herself to the point of seriously considering a word I uttered. I
+know the prince is a villian. I believe every word Phil says about
+him." She took Lord Bob's hands in hers, and her deep, earnest eyes
+burnt conviction into his brain.
+
+"And so do I Frances I am as sure that
+Ugo is a scoundrel as if I had personal knowledge of his
+transactions. In fact, I have never believed in him. You and I will
+stand together, dear, in this fight for poor old Phil, and, by the
+Lord Harry, they'll find us worth backing to the finish. If there's
+anything to be done that can be done, we'll do it, my girl." And he
+was amply repaid for his loyal declaration by the love that shone
+refulgent from her eyes.
+
+Quentin naturally chafed under the restraint. There was nothing he
+could do, nothing his friends could do, to avert the disaster that
+was daily drawing nearer. Lord Bob infused a momentary spark of hope
+into the dying fire of his courage, but even the resourceful Briton
+admitted that the prospect was too gloomy to warrant the slightest
+encouragement. They could gain absolutely no headway against the
+prince, for there was no actual proof to be had. To find the strange
+woman who gave the first warning to Quentin was out of the question.
+Turk had watched every movement of the prince and his aides in the
+hope of in some way securing a clue to her identity or whereabouts.
+There was but one proposition left; the purchase of Courant.
+
+This plan seemed feasible until Turk reported, after diligent
+search, that the French detective could not be found. Dickey was for
+buying the two Italian noblemen, but that seemed out of the
+question, and it was unreasonable to suspect that the other
+hirelings recognized the prince as their real employer. The
+slightest move to approach the two noblemen might prove disastrous,
+and wisdom cut off Dickey's glorious scheme to give each of them "a
+hundred dollars to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth."
+
+Quentin at last burst all bonds, and, finding himself out of the
+doctor's hands, determined to make a last desperate appeal to
+Dorothy Garrison. If that appeal failed, he would then give up the
+struggle; he would at least end the suspense. He knew how difficult
+it would be to obtain an audience with her, but he went ahead with
+the confidence of the drowning man, the boldness of the man who is
+wounded to the death but does not know it.
+
+It was the Wednesday just one week before the wedding that saw the
+pale-faced, tall and somewhat unsteady American deliberately leave
+his cab and stride manfully up the steps of a certain mansion in the
+Avenue Louise. Miss Garrison was "not at home," and her mother was
+"not at home." So said the obsequious footman.
+
+"Take my card to Miss Garrison," said Quentin, coolly. The man
+looked bewildered and was protesting that his young mistress was not
+in the house when the lady herself appeared at the top of the broad
+stairway. Phil stood in the center of the hall watching her as she
+slowly descended the steps. At the bottom of the steps she paused.
+Neither spoke, neither smiled, for the crisis was upon them. If he
+were pale from the loss of blood, she was white with the aches from
+a fever-consumed heart.
+
+"Why have you come?" she asked, at last, her voice so low that the
+words scarcely reached his ears.
+
+"Dorothy," was all he said.
+
+"You knew what I must say to you before you entered the door. Will
+you let me tell you how deeply I have grieved over your misfortune?
+Are you quite wise in coming out before you have the strength? You
+are so pale, so weak. Won't you go back to your--to your hotel and
+save yourself all the pain that will come to you here?" There was
+pity in her eyes, entreaty in her voice, and he was enveloped in the
+tender warmth of her sincerity. Never had she seemed so near as now,
+and yet never so far away.
+
+"Dorothy, you must know what manner of love it is that brings me to
+plead for the smallest crumb of what has been once refused. I come
+simply, in all humility, with outstretched hands to ask your love."
+He drew nearer, and she did not retreat.
+
+"Oh, it is so useless--so hopeless, Phil," she said, softly. "Why
+will you persist? I cannot grant even the crumb."
+
+"I love you, Dorothy," he cried passionately.
+
+"Oh! Phil; you must understand that I can give you
+nothing--absolutely nothing. For God's sake--for my sake, for the
+sake of that dear friendship we own together, go away and
+forget--forget everything," she said, piteously.
+
+A half-hour later he slowly descended the steps, staggering like a
+man sick unto death. She sat where he left her, her wide, dry eyes
+seeing nothing, her ears hearing nothing but the words his love had
+forced her to utter. These words:
+
+"Yes, heaven help me, I do care for you. But, go! Go! I can never
+see you again. I shall keep the bargain I have made, if I die at the
+altar. I cannot break my promise to him." And all his pleading could
+not break down that decision--not even when she found herself for
+one brief, terrible instant in his straining arms, his lips upon
+hers.
+
+It was all over. He calmly told his friends, as he had told her,
+that he would sail for New York on the first steamer, and Turk
+reluctantly began to pack the things. The night before he was to
+leave for Hamburg, the Saxondales, Lady Jane and Savage sat with him
+long into the night. Prince Ugo's watchdogs were not long in
+discovering the sudden turn affairs had taken, and he was gleefully
+celebrating the capitulation.
+
+The next day the Saxondales accompanied the two Americans to the
+railway station, bade them a fond farewell and hastened back to the
+home of the Baron St. Auge with new resolutions in their hearts. The
+forepart of the ensuing week saw their departure from Brussels.
+Deliberately they turned their backs on the great wedding that was
+to come, and as if scorning it completely, journeyed to Lord Bob's
+ruins in Luxemburg, preferring the picturesque solitude of the
+tumbledown castle to the empty spectacle at St. Gudule. Brussels may
+have wondered at their strange leave-taking on the eve of the
+wedding, but no explanation was offered by the departing ones.
+
+When Dorothy Garrison heard that Philip Quentin had started for the
+United States she felt a chill of regret sink suddenly into her
+soul, and it would not be driven forth. She went on to the very
+night that was to make her a princess, with the steel in her heart,
+but the world did not know it was there. There was no faltering, no
+wavering, no outward sign of the emotions which surged within. She
+was to be a princess! But when the Saxondales turned their faces
+from her, spurning the invitation to her wedding, the pride in her
+heart suffered. That was a blow she had not expected. It was like an
+accusation, a reproach.
+
+Little Lady Jane blissfully carried with her to the valley of the
+Alzette the consciousness that Richard Savage was very much in love
+with her, even though he had not found courage to tell her so in
+plain words. A telegram from him stating that he and Quentin had
+taken passage for New York and would sail on the following day
+dispelled the hope that he might return.
+
+Brussels was full of notables. The newspapers of two continents were
+fairly blazing with details of the wedding. There were portraits of
+the bride and groom, and the bishop, and pictures of the gowns, the
+hats, the jewels; there were biographies of the noted beauty and the
+man she was to marry. The Brussels papers teemed with the arrivals
+of distinguished guests.
+
+Overcoming Mrs. Garrison's objections, Dorothy had insisted on and
+obtained special permission to have a night wedding. She had dreamed
+of the lights, the splendor, the brilliancy of an after-sunset
+wedding and would not be satisfied until all barriers were put
+aside.
+
+Dorothy's uncle, Henry Van Dykman, her mother's brother, and a
+number of elated New York relatives came to the Belgian capital,
+shedding their American opulence as the sun throws out its light.
+The skill of a general was required to direct, manage and control
+the pageant of the sixteenth. Thousands of dollars were tossed into
+the cauldron of social ambition by the lavish mother, who, from
+behind an army of lieutenants, directed the preliminary maneuvers.
+
+The day came at last and St. Gudule's presented a scene so
+bewilderingly, so dazzlingly glorious that all Brussels blinked its
+eyes and was awed into silence. The church gleamed with the wealth
+of the universe, it seemed, and no words could describe the
+brilliancy of the occasion. The hour of this woman's triumph had
+come, the hour of the Italian conqueror had come, the hour of the
+victim had come.
+
+In front of the house in the Avenue Louise, an hour before the
+beginning of the ceremony, there stood the landau that was to take
+the bride to the cathedral. Carriage after carriage passed, bearing
+the visitors from the new world, to the church. All were gone save
+the bride, her mother and her uncle. Down the carpeted steps and
+across to the door of the carriage came Dorothy and her uncle,
+followed by the genius of the hour. At the last moment Dorothy
+shuddered, turned sick and faint for an instant, as she thought of a
+ship far out at sea.
+
+The footman swung up beside the driver, and they were off by quiet
+streets toward the church where waited all impatient, the vast
+assemblage and the triumphant prince. The silence inside the
+carriage was like that of the tomb. What were the thoughts of the
+occupants could not well be described.
+
+"Are we not almost there, Dorothy?" nervously asked her mother,
+after many minutes. "Good heavens! We are late! O, what shall we
+do?" cried she in despair. In an instant the somber silence of the
+cab's interior was lost. The girl forgot her prayer in the horror of
+the discovery that there was to be a hitch in the well-planned
+arrangements. Her mother frantically pulled aside the curtains and
+looked out, fondly expecting to see the lights of St. Gudule on the
+hill. Uncle Henry dropped his watch in his nervousness and was all
+confusion.
+
+"We are not near the church, my--why, where are we? I have never
+seen these houses before. Henry, Henry, call to the driver! He has
+lost his way. My heavens, be quick!"
+
+It was not necessary to hail the driver, for at that instant the
+carriage came to a sudden standstill. The door opened quickly, and
+before the eyes of the astonished occupants loomed the form of a
+masked man. In his hand he held a revolver.
+
+
+
+
+XX. WITH STRANGE COMPANIONS
+
+
+"A word, a sound and I fire!" came the cold, hard voice of the man
+in the mask. He spoke in French. The trio sat petrified, speechless,
+breathless. So sudden, so stunning was the shock to their senses
+that they were as graven images for the moment. There was no impulse
+to scream, to resist; they had no power to da either.
+
+"We will injure no one unless there is an outcry or a struggle.
+Monsieur, Madame, there is no occasion for alarm; no more is there a
+chance to escape," said the mask quietly. Three pairs of eyes looked
+dumbly into the gleaming holes in the black mask that covered his
+face.
+
+"The police?" finally whispered Mrs. Garrison, coming slowly out of
+her stupor.
+
+"Silence, madame! You are not to speak. Faint if you like; we will
+not object to that and it may be a relief to you," said the man,
+sarcastically gallant. "I must ask you to make room for me inside
+the carriage. We cannot remain here; the police may come this way--I
+mean those who are not engaged in guarding the grand cathedral to
+which you were going." He was inside the carriage and sitting beside
+Dorothy when he concluded the last observation. With a shudder she
+drew away from him. "Pardon, Mademoiselle, I must implore you to
+endure my presence here for a time. We have quite a distance to
+travel together."
+
+A nameless dread sent chills to the hearts which had begun to thump
+wildly in the reaction. What did he mean?
+
+"What are you going to do with us?" groaned the horrified mother.
+The carriage was now moving rapidly over the pavement.
+
+"In due time you may know, Madame; you have only to be patient. For
+the moment, it is necessary that you keep perfectly quiet. Although
+you are a woman, I shall have to kill you if you disobey my
+commands. We take desperate chances to-night in the coup which shall
+make all Europe ring with the crowning act of the great diamond
+robbers, as you are pleased to call us; and we can brook no
+resistance. You see my revolver, Monsieur, it is on a direct line
+with your breast. You are Americans, I am told, and your people are
+noted for coolness, for discretion under trying circumstances. Your
+women are as brave as your men. I merely ask you to call your
+courage--"
+
+"You shall not go on, monster," exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, fiercely.
+"Do you know who we are? Surely you are not inhuman enough to--"
+
+"Madame! I warn you for the last time. You must be reasonable.
+Resistance, argument, pleading will avail you nothing. If you desire
+to discuss the situation calmly, sensibly, you may do so, but you
+are to go only so far as I see fit. Will you remember?" There was no
+mistaking the earnestness of the speaker. Mrs. Garrison realized
+that she was absolutely powerless, completely at the mercy of the
+bold intruder.
+
+"What must we pay, then, for our freedom? Name the price, man. Order
+your men to drive us to St. Gudule's and anything you ask is yours.
+I implore you to be generous. Think, Monsieur, think what this means
+to us!" she said, desperately.
+
+"I am not at liberty to dictate terms, Madame. It is only my duty to
+carry out my part of the transaction; another will make terms with
+you."
+
+"But when? When? We cannot be delayed a moment longer. The hour has
+already passed when my daughter should be before the altar. For
+God's sake, name your price. I will pay, I will pay," sobbed the
+half-crazed woman.
+
+"Sir, do you know what you are doing?" demanded the quaking old man,
+finding his voice at last. "You must listen to reason. Think of
+yourself, if not of us. What will become of you when you are caught?
+Pause in this awful crime and think--"
+
+"You are kind; Monsieur, to advise me, but it is too late."
+
+"Will you take us to St. Gudule's?" cried the elder woman, on the
+verge of collapse. "I will give you all you ask, Monsieur."
+
+"Ten thousand dollars is yours if you abandon this damnable--" began
+Mr. Van Dykman.
+
+"It will avail nothing to offer me money," interrupted the master of
+the situation, harshly. "That is the end of it. Believe me, money is
+not what we are after to-night. To-morrow, perhaps, it may tempt
+us."
+
+"What do you mean to do with us?" cried the girl, horror in her
+voice.
+
+"We do not mean to harm you, Mademoiselle, if you are sensible and
+do as we command."
+
+"But the wedding, the wedding!" moaned Mrs. Garrison. "What will
+they think of us? O, Monsieur, if you are one of the great diamond
+robbers I willingly give all that I have about me. On my person
+there are jewels valued at many thousand--"
+
+"Another word, Madame, and I shall be obliged to use force," said
+the man, leaning forward, threateningly. In the darkness they could
+feel the menace in his eyes.
+
+"You are determined to go on with this outrage?" asked Van Dykman.
+
+"A coup so well planned as this cannot be given up, Monsieur. We
+flatter ourselves that no such job has ever graced the history of
+Europe," said the stranger, pleasantly. "Down in your hearts, I
+believe you will some day express admiration for the way in which
+the abduction has been managed."
+
+"Abduction?" gasped Mrs. Garrison. Dorothy sank back into the corner
+at that word and it seemed to her that her heart would never beat
+again.
+
+"Where do you mean to take us, and what is your object?" slowly
+asked Mrs. Garrison, a peculiar sense of resignation coming over
+her. It was as if she recognized the utter hopelessness of escape
+from the hands of these skillful wretches. She now saw that the mind
+which had planned the capture was one that could carry the game to
+the end without a flaw in the operations.
+
+"I can answer neither question, Madame. Suffice to say that you are
+rich and we are poor. I leave the rest for your imagination. It
+grieves us, of course, to mar the grand wedding of to-night, but you
+will readily understand that at no other time could we find you so
+well prepared. Truly, I wonder what they are doing in St. Gudule."
+
+"My coachman, my footman, my servants, it seems, are your
+accomplices," said Mrs. Garrison, steadily.
+
+"Not at all, Madame. To-morrow your coachman and your footman will
+be found where we confined them. The men here have never been in
+your employ. I could recommend them to you, however; they are most
+trusty, faithful fellows, and they would be loyal to you to the
+death."
+
+"For God's sake, where are we?" burst forth Mr. Van Dykman, unable
+to control his fear longer.
+
+"We are near the edge of the city, and will soon be beyond the
+limits. I must command absolute silence for the next half-hour. Not
+a word must be spoken as we are passing a point of danger. Do not
+permit hope of rescue to enter your minds, however, for there is no
+chance. I may enlighten you by saying that the revolvers I carry
+work safely, quietly and very effectually. Will you join me, in a
+half-hour's silent consideration of the scenes that are now taking
+place in old St. Gudule? I am sure there is no limit to the
+imagination when we give over our thoughts to that subject."
+
+Whatever may have been the desire to shriek, to call for help, to
+tear away the window curtains, the three helpless captives were
+unable to break through the influence this lone bandit spread about
+them. The thought of St. Gudule, of the great gathering, of the
+impatience, the consternation, the sensation occasioned by the
+non-arrival of the bride, brought madness to the brains of the
+hapless trio. Like a vivid panorama they saw everything that was
+going on in the church. They saw alarm in faces of those closely
+interested in the wedding, heard the vague rumors and questionings,
+the order for the search, the report of accident, and then--the
+police and newspapers!
+
+At last the carriage came to a stop and the footman swung down from
+the seat, opening the door quickly. That they were far beyond the
+streets of the city was apparent in the oppressive stillness, broken
+only by the heavy panting of the horses. "This is the place," came
+in the coarse voice of the footman. "We have no time to lose."
+
+"Then I must ask you to get down, Monsieur, and the ladies. We are
+about to enter a house for a short while, the better to complete the
+details of our little transactions. Remember, no noise means no
+violence. Be quick, please." Thus spoke the man in the seat, who an
+instant later stepped forth into the darkness. The trembling,
+sobbing women dragged themselves to the ground, their gorgeous gowns
+trailing in the dust, unthought of and unprotected. Mr. Van Dykman,
+old as he was, took courage in the momentary relaxation, and
+attempted to halloo for help. A heavy hand was clasped over his
+mouth and strong arms subdued his show of resistance. Swiftly across
+a short stretch of ground they went, up rickety steps and into the
+black hallway of a house. There were stifled moans of terror on the
+lips of the two women, but there was no resistance save the weight
+their strengthless forms imposed upon the men who had them in
+charge. There was no light in the house and no sign that it was
+occupied by others than themselves.
+
+"We remain here for several hours. If all goes well, you will then
+be at liberty to depart for your home in the city. Here is a chair,
+Madam. Pray be seated. Pardon our inability to give you a light. You
+will be patient, I am sure, when it is said on the sacred word of a
+gentleman that no harm is to come to you. It is only necessary that
+you remain quiet and await the hour when we are ready to release
+you. I must ask permission to lock the door of this room. Before
+dawn your friends will be here to take you away in safety.
+Everything has been arranged for your personal welfare and comfort.
+Permit me to say goodnight."
+
+"Where are we?" demanded the old man.
+
+"Why have you brought us here?" asked Mrs. Garrison from the arm
+chair into which she had limply fallen.
+
+"You will learn everything in good time. We shall be just outside
+the door, and will respond promptly if you need our help to the
+extent of shouting for it. In the meantime your horses and carriage
+are being well cared for. Be of good heart and your night will not
+be a long one. Believe me, I hope we may meet again under more
+pleasing conditions."
+
+The door closed a second later and the key clicked. Then came the
+shooting of a bolt, a short scuffling of feet, and the silence of
+the dead reigned over the strange house. Overcome with dread, the
+occupants of the room uttered no word, no sound for what seemed to
+them an hour. Then Mrs. Garrison, real tenderness in her voice,
+called softly to her daughter.
+
+"Darling, can you find me in this darkness? Come to me. Let me hold
+you close in my arms, Dorothy, poor, poor child."
+
+But there was no response to the appeal, nor to a second and a third
+call. The mother sprang to her feet in sudden terror, her heart
+fluttering wildly.
+
+"Henry! Are you here? Where is--what has happened to Dorothy?" she
+cried. A trembling old man and a frantic woman bumped against each
+other in the darkness and the search began. There were but two
+people in the room! Following this alarming discovery one of these
+persons swooned and the other battered, like a madman, against the
+heavy, stubborn door.
+
+Far away in the night bowled a carriage drawn by sturdy horses. The
+clouds broke and the rain fell. Thunder and lightning ran rampant in
+the skies, but nothing served to lessen the speed of that swift
+flight over the highways leading into the sleep-ridden country.
+Inside the cab, not the one in which Dorothy Garrison had begun her
+journey to the altar, but another and less pretentious, sat the grim
+desperado and a half-dead woman. Whither they flew no one knew save
+the man who held the reins over the plunging horses. How long their
+journey--well, it was to have an end.
+
+True to the promise made by the bandit, a clattering band of
+horsemen dashed up to the lonely house at the break of dawn. They
+were led by Prince Ugo Ravorelli, dishevelled, half-crazed. A
+shivering woman in silks and a cowering old man sobbed with joy when
+the rescuers burst through the door. Tacked to a panel in the door
+was an ominous, ghost-like paper on which was printed the following
+message from the night just gone:
+
+"In time the one who is missing shall be returned to the arms of her
+mother, absolutely unharmed. She will be well cared for by those who
+have her in charge. After a reasonable length of time her friends
+will be informed as to the terms on which she may be restored to
+them."
+
+Mrs. Garrison, more dead than alive, was conveyed to her home in the
+Avenue Louise, there to recover her strength with astonishing
+quickness. This vastly purposeful, indomitable woman, before many
+hours had passed, was calmly listening to plans for the capture of
+her daring abductors and the release of her daughter. Friends,
+overcome with the horror of the hour, flocked to her aid and
+comfort; the government offered its assistance and the police went
+to work as one massive sleuth-hound. Newspapers all over the world
+fairly staggered under the burden of news they carried to their
+readers, and people everywhere stood aghast at the most audacious
+outrage in the annals of latter-day crime.
+
+As completely lost as if the earth had swallowed them were the
+diamond robbers--for all the world accepted them as the
+perpetrators--and their fair prize. No one saw the carriage after it
+turned off the Avenue Louise on the night of the abduction; no one
+saw the party leave the lonely house in the country. A placard found
+on the steps of a prominent citizen's home at an early hour in the
+morning told the frenzied searchers where to look for the mother and
+the uncle of the missing girl.
+
+A reward of 100,000 francs for the arrest of the abductors or the
+return of Miss Garrison was offered at once by the stony-faced woman
+in the Avenue Louise, and detectives flew about like bees. Every
+city in the land was warned to be on the lookout, every village was
+watched, every train and station was guarded. Nine in every ten
+detectives maintained that she was still in Brussels, and house
+after house, mansion after mansion was searched.
+
+Three days after the abduction word came from London that four men
+and a young woman, apparently insane, all roughly attired, had come
+to that city from Ostend, and had disappeared before the officials
+were fully cognizant of their arrival. The woman, according to the
+statements of men who saw her on the train, was beautiful and pale
+as with the sickness that promised death.
+
+
+
+
+XXI. THE HOME OF THE BRIGANDS
+
+
+It was past midnight, after a wild ride through the storm, when an
+old gentleman and his wife, with their sick daughter, boarded a fast
+eastbound train at Namur. Had the officers of the law known of the
+abduction at that hour it would have been an easy matter to discover
+that the loose-flowing gown which enveloped the almost unconscious,
+partially veiled daughter, hid a garment of silk so fine that the
+whole world had read columns concerning its beauty. The gray beard
+of the rather distinguished old man could have been removed: at a
+single grasp, while the wife, also veiled, wore the clothing of a
+man underneath the skirts. The father and mother were all attention
+to their unfortunate child, who looked into their faces with wide,
+hopeless eyes and uttered no word of complaint, no sound of pain.
+
+At a small station some miles from the border line of the grand
+duchy of Luxemburg, the party left the coach and were met by a
+carriage in which they whirled away in the darkness that comes just
+before dawn. The horses flew swiftly toward the line that separates
+Belgium from the grand duchy, and the sun was barely above the bank
+of trees on the highlands in the east when the carriage of the
+impetuous travelers drew up in front of a picturesque roadside inn
+just across the boundary. The sweat-flecked horses were quickly
+stabled and the occupants of the vehicle were comfortably and safely
+quartered in a darkened room overlooking the highway.
+
+So ill was the daughter, explained the father, that she was not to
+be disturbed on any account or pretext. Fatigued by the long ride
+from their home in the north, she was unable to continue the journey
+to Luxemburg until she had had a day of rest. At the big city she
+was to be placed in the care of the most noted of surgeons. Full of
+compassion, the keeper of the inn and his good wife did all in their
+power to carry out the wishes of the distressed father, particularly
+as he was free with his purse. It did not strike them as peculiar
+that the coachman remained at the stable closely, and that early in
+the day his horses were attached to the mud-covered carriage, as if
+ready for a start on the notice of a moment. The good man and his
+wife and the few peasants who were told of the suffering guest, in
+order that they might talk in lowered voices and refrain from
+disturbing noises, did not know that the "mother" of the girl sat
+behind the curtains of an upstairs window watching the road in both
+directions, a revolver on the sill.
+
+The fact that the strange party decided to depart for Luxemburg just
+before nightfall did not create surprise in their simple breasts,
+for had not the anxious father said they would start as soon as his
+daughter felt equal to the journey? So eager were they to deliver
+her over to the great doctor who alone could save her life. With a
+crack of the whip and a gruff shout of farewell to the gaping
+stableboy who had been his companion for a day, the driver of the
+early morning coach whirled into the road and off toward the city of
+precipices. No one about the inn knew who the brief sojourners were,
+nor did they know whence they came. The stableboy noted the letter S
+blazoned on the blinds of the horses' bridles, but there were no
+letters on the carriage. There had been, but there was evidence that
+they had been unskillfully removed.
+
+Late in the night the coachman pulled rein and a man on horseback
+rode up, opened the door and softly inquired after the welfare of
+the occupants. With a command to follow, he rode away through a
+narrow, uncertain wagon path. When the way became rough and
+dangerous, he dismounted and climbed to the boot of the cab, the
+coachman going to the empty saddle. Half an hour later the new
+coachman stopped the puffing horses in front of a great, black
+shadow from which, here and there, lights beamed cheerfully. From
+the back of the vehicle the two men unstrapped the heavy steamer
+trunk which had come all the way from Brussels with the party, and
+then the doors of the big shadow opened and closed behind Dorothy
+Garrison and her captors. So skillfully and so audaciously were the
+plans of the abductors carried out that when Miss Garrison entered a
+room set apart for her in the great house, after passing through
+long, grotesque and ill-lighted corridors, she found an open trunk
+full of garments she had expected to wear on her wedding journey!
+
+A trim and pretty English maid entered the room the instant it was
+vacated by the gray-bearded man and the tall person who had posed as
+his wife. While Dorothy sat like a statue, gazing upon her, the
+young woman lighted other candles in the apartment and then came to
+the side of the mute, wretched newcomer.
+
+"Will you let me prepare you for bed, miss? It is very late, and you
+must be tired. Would you like anything to eat before retiring?" she
+asked, as quietly as if she had been in her service forever.
+
+"In heaven's name, where am I? Tell me what does it all mean? What
+are they going to do with me?" cried Dorothy, hoarsely, clutching
+the girl's hand.
+
+"You could not be in safer hands, Miss Garrison," said the maid,
+kindly. "I am here to do all that is your pleasure."
+
+"All? Then I implore you to aid me in getting from--" began Dorothy,
+excitedly, coming to her unsteady feet.
+
+"I am loyal to others as well as to you," interposed the maid,
+firmly. "To-morrow you will find that--but, there, I must say no
+more. Your bedchamber is off here, Miss. You will let me prepare you
+for the sleep you need so much? No harm can come to you here."
+
+Dorothy suddenly felt her courage returning; her brain began to busy
+itself with hopes, prospects, plans. After all they could not, would
+not kill her; she was too valuable to them. There was the chance of
+escape and new strength in the belief that she could in some way
+outwit them; there was a vast difference between the woman who
+suffered herself to be put to bed by the deft, kindly maid, and the
+one who dragged herself hopelessly into the room such a short time
+before. With the growth of hope and determination there came the
+courage to inspect her surroundings.
+
+The rooms were charming. There was a generous, kindly warmth about
+them that suggested luxury, refinement and the hand of a connoiseur.
+The rugs were of rare quality, the furnishings elegant, the
+appointments modern and complete. She could not suppress a long
+breath of surprise and relief: it was no easy matter to convince
+herself that she was not in some fastidious English home. Despite
+the fearful journey, ending in the perilous ascent over rocks and
+gullies, she felt herself glowing with the belief that she was still
+in Brussels, or, at the worst, in Liege. Her amazement on finding
+her own trunk and the garments she had left in her chamber the night
+before was so great that her troubled, bewildered mind raced back to
+the days when she marvelled over Aladdin's wonderful lamp and the
+genii. How could they have secured her dresses? But how could
+anything be impossible to these masters in crime? Once when her eyes
+fell upon the dark windows a wistful, eager expression came into
+them. The maid observed the look, and smiled.
+
+"It is fully fifty feet to the ground," she said, simply. Miss
+Garrison sighed and then smiled resignedly.
+
+Worn out in body and mind, she sank into sleep even while the
+mighty, daring resolve to rush over and throw herself from the
+window was framing itself in her brain. The resolve was made
+suddenly, considered briefly and would have been acted on
+precipitously had not the drowsy, lazy influence of slumber bade her
+to wait a minute, then another minute, another and another, and
+then--to forget.
+
+Sunlight streamed into the room when she opened her eyes, and for a
+few minutes she was in a state of uncanny perplexity. Where was she?
+In whose bed--then she remembered. With the swiftness of a cat she
+left the bed and flew to the window to look out upon--space at
+first, then the trees and rocks below. The ground seemed a mile
+below the spot on which she stood. Gasping with dread she shrank
+back and covered her eyes with her tense fingers.
+
+"Are you ready for me, Miss?" asked a soft voice from somewhere, and
+Dorothy whirled to face the maid. Her throat choked, her eyes filled
+with tears of the reawakening, her heart throbbed so faintly that
+her hand went forth to find support. The little maid put her strong,
+gentle arm about the trembling girl and drew her again to the bed
+"They are expecting you down to breakfast, but I was instructed not
+to hurry you, Miss."
+
+"To breakfast?" gasped Dorothy, staring at the girl as if her eyes
+would pop out. "Wha--what! The impudence!"
+
+"But you must eat, you know."
+
+"With--with these despicable wretches? Never! I will starve first!
+Go away from me! I do not need you. I want to be alone, absolutely
+alone. Do you hear?" She violently shoved the girl away from her,
+but the friendly smile did not leave the latter's face.
+
+"When you need me, Miss, I am in the next room," she said, calmly,
+and was gone. Anger, pure and simple, brought sobs from the very
+heart of the girl who lay face downward on the crumpled bed.
+
+A new impulse inspired her to call sharply to the maid, and a moment
+later she was hastily, nervously, defiantly preparing herself to
+face the enemy and--breakfast. Tingling with some trepidation and
+some impatience, she led the maid through a strenuous half-hour.
+What with questions, commands, implorings, reprimands, complaints
+and fault findings, the poor girl had a sad time of it. When at last
+Miss Garrison stood ready to descend upon the foe she was the
+picture of defiance. With a steady stride she followed the maid to
+the door. Just as it was opened a strong, rollicking baritone voice
+came ringing through the halls attuned in song:
+
+"In the days of old when knights were bold, And barons held their
+sway," etc.
+
+Dorothy stopped stockstill in the doorway, completely overwhelmed.
+She turned helplessly to the maid, tried to gasp the question that
+filled her mind, and then leaned weakly against the wall. The
+singer's voice grew suddenly fainter with the slam of a door, and
+while its music could still be heard distinctly, she knew that he of
+the merry tones had left the lower hallway. Feebly she began to
+wonder what manner of men these thieves could be, these miscreants
+who lived in a castle, who had lady's maids about them, who sang in
+cheery tones and who knew neither fear nor caution.
+
+"One of the new guests who came last night," explained the maid,
+unconcernedly.
+
+"One who came--who came with me? O, how can such a wretch sing so
+gayly? Have they been drinking all night?" cried Dorothy, shrinking
+back into the room.
+
+"Lor', no, Miss, there can't be any such goings on as that here. I
+think they are waiting for you in the breakfast room," said the
+girl, starting down the broad steps.
+
+"I'd sooner die than venture among those ruffians!"
+
+"But the ladies are expecting you."
+
+"Ladies! Here?" gasped Dorothy.
+
+"Yes, Miss; why not?"
+
+Dorothy's head whirled again. In a dazed sort of way she glanced
+down at her morning gown, her mind slowly going back to the
+glittering costume she had worn the night before. Was it all a
+dream? Scarcely knowing what she did, she followed the girl down the
+steps, utterly without purpose, drawn as by some strange subtle
+force to the terminal point in the mystery.
+
+Through the dimly-lighted hall she passed with heart throbbing
+wildly, expecting she knew not what. Her emotions as she approached
+the door she could have never told, so tumultuously were they
+surging one upon the other. The maid grasped the huge knob and swung
+wide the door, from whose threshold she was to look upon a picture
+that would linger in her mind to the end of time.
+
+A great sunlit room; a long table and high-backed Flemish chairs; a
+bewildering group of men and women; a chorus of friendly voices; and
+then familiar faces began to stand out plainly before her eyes.
+
+Lady Saxondale was advancing toward the door with outstretched hands
+and smiling face. Over her shoulder the dumbfounded girl saw Lady
+Jane Oldham, Saxondale, happy faced Dickey Savage and--Philip
+Quentin!
+
+
+
+
+XXII. CASTLE CRANEYCROW
+
+
+Dorothy staggered into the arms of Lady Saxondale, choking with a
+joy that knew no bounds, stupefied past all power of understanding.
+She only saw and knew that she was safe, that some strange miracle
+had been wrought and that there were no terrible, cruel-hearted
+robbers in sight. It was some time before she could utter a word to
+those who stood about eagerly--anxiously--watching the play of
+emotions in her face.
+
+"O, you will never know how glorious you all look to me. How is it
+that I am here? Where are those awful men? What has happened to me,
+Lady Saxondale, tell me? I cannot breathe till everything is
+explained to me," she cried, her voice trembling with gladness. In
+her vast exuberance she found strength and with it the desire to
+embrace all these good friends. Her ecstatic exhibition of joy lost
+its violence after she had kissed and half crushed Lady Jane and had
+grasped both of Lord Bob's big hands convulsively. The young men
+came in for a much more formal and decorous greeting. For an instant
+she found herself looking into Quentin's eyes, as he clasped her
+hand, and there was a strange light in them--a bright, eager,
+victorious gleam which puzzled her not a little. "O, tell me all
+about it! Please do! I've been through such a terrible experience.
+Can it be true that I am really here with you?"
+
+"You certainly are, my dear," said Lady Saxondale, smiling at her,
+then glancing involuntarily into the faces of the others, a queer
+expression in her eyes.
+
+"Where is mamma? I must go to her at once, Lady Saxondale. The
+wretches were so cruel to her and to poor Uncle Henry--good heavens!
+Tell me! They did not--did not kill her!" She clutched at the back
+of a chair and--grasped Quentin's arm as it swept forward to keep
+her from falling.
+
+"Your mother is safe and well," cried Lady Saxondale, quickly. "She
+is in Brussels, however, and not here, Dorothy."
+
+"And where am I? Are you telling the truth? Is she truly safe and
+well? Then, why isn't she here?" she cried, uneasily, apprehensively.
+
+"It takes a long story, Miss Garrison," said Lord Bob, soberly. "I
+think you would better wait till after breakfast for the full story,
+so far as it is known to us. You'll feel better and I know you must
+be as hungry as a bear."
+
+There was a troubled, uncertain pucker to her brow, a pleading look
+in her eyes as she suffered herself to be led to a chair near the
+end of the table. It had not struck her as odd that the others were
+deplorably devoid of the fervor that should have manifested itself,
+in words, at least. There was an air of restraint almost oppressive,
+but she failed to see it, and it was not long until it was so
+cleverly succeeded by a genial warmth of manner that she never knew
+the severity of the strain upon the spirits of that small company.
+
+Suddenly she half started from the chair, her gaze fastened on
+Quentin's face. He read the question in her eyes and answered before
+she could frame it into words.
+
+"I did not sail for New York, at all," he said, with an assumption
+of ease he did not feel. "Dickey and I accepted Lord Saxondale's
+pressing invitation to stop off with them for awhile. I don't wonder
+that you are surprised to find us here."
+
+"I am not surprised at anything now," she said in perplexed tones.
+"But we are not in England; we were not on the water. And all those
+trees and hills and rocks I saw from the window--where are we?"
+
+"In the grimmest, feudliest, ghastliest old place between Brussels
+and Anthony Hope's domain. This is Castle Craneycrow; a real, live
+castle with parapets, bastions, traditions and, I insist--though
+they won't believe me--snakes and mice and winged things that
+screech and yowl." So spoke Lady Jane, eagerly. Miss Garrison was
+forgetting to eat in her wonder, and Mr. Savage was obliged to
+remind her that "things get cold mighty quick in these baronial
+ice-houses."
+
+"I know it's a castle, but where is it located? And how came you
+here?"
+
+"That's it," quoth Mr. Savage, serenely. "How came we here? I repeat
+the question and supply the answer. We came by the grace of God and
+more or less luck."
+
+"O, I'll never understand it at all," complained Dorothy, in
+despair. "Now, you must answer my questions, one by one, Lord
+Saxondale. To whom does the castle belong?"
+
+"To the Earl of Saxondale, ma'am."
+
+"Then, I know where it is. This is the old place in Luxemburg you
+were telling me about."
+
+"That isn't a question, but you are right."
+
+"But how is it that I am here?"
+
+"You can answer that question better than I, Miss Garrison."
+
+"I only know those wretches--the one who disguised himself as my
+father and the one who tried to be my mother--jostled me till I was
+half dead and stopped eventually at the doors--O, O, O!" she broke
+off, in startled tones, dropping her fork. "They--they did not
+really bring me here--to your house, did they?"
+
+"They were good enough to turn you over to our keeping last night,
+and we are overjoyed to have you here."
+
+"Then," she exclaimed, tragically, rising to her feet, "where are
+the men who brought me here?" A peculiar and rather mirthless smile
+passed from one to the other of her companions and it angered her.
+"I demand an explanation, Lord Saxondale."
+
+"I can give none, Miss Garrison, upon my soul. It is very far from
+clear to me. You were brought to my doors last night, and I pledge
+myself to protect you with my life. No harm shall come to you here,
+and at the proper time I am sure everything will be made clear to
+you, and you will be satisfied. Believe me, you are among your
+dearest friends--"
+
+"Dearest friends!" she cried, bitterly. "You insult me by running away
+from my wedding, you league yourselves with the fiends who committed
+the worst outrage that men ever conceived, and now you hold me here
+a--a prisoner! Yes, a prisoner! I do not forget the words of the maid
+who attended me; I do not forget the inexplicable presence of my
+traveling clothes in this house, and I shall never forget that my
+abductors came direct to your castle, wherever it may be. Do you mean
+to say that they brought me here without an understanding with you?
+Oh! I see it all now! You--you perpetrated this outrage!"
+
+"On the contrary, Miss Garrison, I am the meekest and lowliest of
+English squires, and I am in no way leagued with a band of robbers.
+Perhaps, if you will wait a little while, Lady Saxondale may throw
+some light on the mystery that puzzles you. You surely will trust
+Lady Saxondale."
+
+"Lady Saxondale did me the honor to command me to give up Prince
+Ravorelli. I am not married to him and I am here, in her home, a
+prisoner," said Dorothy, scornfully. "I do not understand why I am
+here and I do not know that you are my friends. Everything is so
+queer, so extraordinary that I don't know how to feel toward you.
+When you satisfactorily explain it all to me, I may be able to
+forget the feeling I have for you now and once more regard you as
+friends. It is quite clear to me that I am not to have the privilege
+of quitting the castle without your consent; I acknowledge myself a
+prisoner and await your pleasure. You will find me in the room to
+which you sent me last night. I cannot sit at your table, feeling
+that you are not my friends; I should choke with every mouthful."
+
+No one sought to bar her way from the dining-room. Perhaps no one
+there felt equal to the task of explaining, on the moment, the
+intricacies of a very unusual transaction, for no one had quite
+expected the bolt to fall so sharply. She paced the floor of her
+room angrily, bewailing the fate that brought her to this fortress
+among the rocks. Time after time she paused at the lofty windows to
+look upon the trees, the little river and the white roadbed far
+below. There was no escape from this isolated pile of stone; she was
+confined as were Bluebeard's victims in the days of giants and ogres
+and there were no fairy queens to break down the walls and set her
+free. Each thought left the deeper certainty that the people in the
+room below were banded against her. An hour later, Lady Saxondale
+found her, her flushed face pressed to the window pane that looked
+down upon the world as if out of the sky.
+
+"I suppose, Lady Saxondale, you are come to assure me again that I
+am perfectly safe in your castle," said the prisoner, turning at the
+sound of her ladyship's voice.
+
+"I have come to tell you the whole story, from your wedding to the
+present moment. Nothing is to be hidden from you, my dear Miss
+Garrison. You may not now consider us your friends, but some day you
+will look back and be thankful we took such desperate, dangerous
+means to protect you," said Lady Saxondale, coming to the window.
+Dorothy's eyes were upon the outside world and they were dark and
+rebellious. The older woman complacently stationed herself beside
+the girl and for a few moments neither spoke.
+
+"I am ready to hear what you have to say," came at last from Miss
+Garrison.
+
+"It is not necessary to inform you that you were abducted--"
+
+"Not in the least! The memory of the past two days is vivid enough,"
+said Miss Garrison, with cutting irony in her voice.
+
+"But it may interest you to know the names of your abductors," said
+the other, calmly.
+
+"I could not miss them far in guessing, Lady Saxondale."
+
+"It was necessary for some one to deliver you from the villain you
+were to marry, by the most effective process. There is but one
+person in all this world who cares enough for you to undertake the
+stupendous risk your abduction incurred. You need not be told his
+name."
+
+"You mean," said Dorothy, scarcely above a whisper, "that Philip
+Quentin planned and executed this crime?"
+
+Lady Saxondale nodded.
+
+"And I am his prisoner?" breathlessly. "You are under his
+protection; that is all."
+
+"Do you call it protection to--" began Dorothy, her eyes blazing,
+but Lady Saxondale interrupted firmly.
+
+"You are his prisoner, then, and we are your jailers. Have it as you
+will."
+
+Lady Saxondale proceeded to relate the history of Philip Quentin's
+achievement. Instead of sailing for New York, he surrendered to his
+overpowering love and fell to work perfecting the preposterous plan
+that had come to him as a vision in the final hour of despair. There
+was but little time in which to act, and there was stubborn
+opposition to fight against. The Saxondales were the only persons to
+whom he could turn, and not until after he had fairly fought them to
+earth did they consent to aid him in the undertaking. There remained
+to perform, then, the crowning act in this apparently insane
+transaction. The stealing of a woman on whom the eyes of all the
+world seemed riveted was a task that might well confound the
+strategy of the most skillful general, but it did not worry the
+determined American.
+
+Wisely he chose the wedding day as the best on which to carry out
+his project. The hulla-balloo that would follow the nonappearance of
+the bride would throw the populace and the authorities into a state
+of confusion that might last for hours. Before they could settle
+down to a systematic search, the bold operator would be safely in
+the last place they would suspect, an English lord's playhouse in
+the valley of the Alzette. Nothing but the most audacious daring
+could hope to win in such an undertaking. When Mrs. Garrison's
+coachman and footman came forth in all their august splendor on the
+night of the wedding, they were pounced upon by three men,
+overpowered, bound and locked in a small room in the stables. One of
+the desperadoes calmly approached the servants' quarters, presented
+a bold face (covered with whiskers), and said he had come for Miss
+Garrison's trunks. Almost insane with the excitement of the
+occasion, the servants not only escorted him to the bride's room,
+but assisted him in carrying two trunks downstairs. He was shrewd
+enough to ascertain which trunk was most needed, and it was thrown
+into a buggy and driven away by one of the trio.
+
+When the carriage stopped for the first time to permit the masked
+man to thrust his revolver into the faces of the occupants, the
+trunk was jerked from that same buggy and thrown to the boot of the
+larger vehicle. Of course, having absolute control of the carriage,
+it was no trick, if luck attended, for the new coachman and footman
+to drive away with the unsuspecting bride and her companions. It is
+only the ridiculously improbable projects that are successful, it
+has been said. Certainly it was proven in this case. It is not
+necessary to tell the full story, except to say that the masked man
+who appeared at the carriage door in the little side street was
+Quentin; that the foot-man was Dickey Savage, the driver Turk. In
+the exchange of clothing with the deposed servants of Mrs. Garrison,
+however, Turk fell into a suit of livery big enough for two men of
+his stature.
+
+The deserted house was beyond the city limits, and had been located
+the day before by Turk, whose joy in being connected with such a
+game was boundless. Other disguises, carefully chosen, helped them
+on to the Grand Duchy, Quentin as the gray-bearded man, Savage as
+the old woman. The suffering of Dorothy Garrison during that wild
+night and day was the only thing that wrung blood from the
+consciences of these ruthless dare-devils. Philip Quentin, it must
+be said, lived years of agony and remorse while carrying out his
+part of the plan. How the plot was carried to the stage where it
+became Lady Saxondale's duty to acquaint Dorothy Garrison with the
+full particulars, the reader knows. It only remains to say that good
+fortune favored the conspirators at every turn, and that they
+covered their tracks with amazing effectiveness. Utterly cut off
+from the eyes of the world, the captive found herself powerless to
+communicate with the hysterical people who were seeking her in every
+spot save the right one.
+
+"Now that you have finished this remarkable story and have pleaded
+so prettily for him, may I ask just what Mr. Quentin expects of me?"
+asked Dorothy, cold, calm, and entirely the mistress of herself and
+the million emotions that Lady Saxondale's disclosures aroused.
+
+"He expects you to give him your heart," said her ladyship, slowly.
+Dorothy fell back against the wall, aghast, overcome by this
+crowning piece of audacity.
+
+"Dorothy, a week ago you loved Phil Quentin; even when you stepped
+inside the carriage that was to take you to the altar you loved him
+better--"
+
+"I did not! I hate him!" cried Dorothy.
+
+"Perhaps, now, but let me ask you this question: When you were being
+dragged away by those three men, when they were putting miles and
+miles between you and your friends, of whom were you thinking? Ah,
+your face, your eyes betray you!--You were thinking of Philip
+Quentin, not of Ugo Ravorelli. You were praying that one strong arm
+might come to your relief, you knew but one man in all the world who
+had the courage, the love, the power to rescue you. Last night, when
+you entered this dismal place, you wondered if Philip Quentin--yes,
+Philip Quentin--could break down the doors and save you. And then
+you remembered that he could not help you, for you had thrown aside
+his love, had driven him away. Listen! Don't deny it, for I am a
+woman and I know! This morning you looked from yon window and your
+heart sank with despair. Then, forgetful again, your eye swept the
+road in the hope of seeing--of seeing, whom? But one man was in your
+mind, Dorothy Garrison, and he was on the ocean. When you came into
+the breakfast room, whose face was it that sent the thrill to your
+heart? Whose presence was it that told you your prayers had been
+answered? Whom did you look upon as your savior, your rescuer? That
+big American, who loves you better than life. Philip Quentin had
+saved you from the brigands, and you loved him for it. Now, Dorothy
+Garrison, you hate him because he saved you from a worse
+fate--marriage with the most dissolute hypocrite in Europe, the most
+cunning of all adventurers. You are not trying to check the tears
+that blind your eyes; but you will not confess to me that your tears
+come from a heart full of belief in the man who loves you deeply
+enough to risk his honor and his life to save you from endless
+misery. Lie where you are, on this couch, Dorothy, and just think of
+it all--think of Phil."
+
+When Dorothy raised her wet eyes from the cushion in which they had
+been buried, Lady Saxondale was gone.
+
+Philip Quentin stood in the doorway.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII. HIS ONLY
+
+
+In an instant she was on her feet and struggling to suppress the
+sobs that had been wrung from her by the words of Lady Saxondale.
+
+"Dorothy," said Quentin, his voice tender and pleading, "you have
+heard what Lady Saxondale had to say?"
+
+She was now standing at the window, her back to him, her figure
+straight and defiant, her hands clenched in the desperate effort to
+regain her composure.
+
+"Yes," she responded, hoarsely.
+
+"I have not come to ask your pardon for my action, but to implore
+you to withhold judgment against the others. I alone am to blame;
+they are as loyal to you as they have been to me. Whatever hatred
+you may have in your heart, I deserve it. Spare the others a single
+reproach, for they were won to my cause only after I had convinced
+them that they were serving you, not me. You are with true friends,
+the best that man or woman could have. I have not come to make any
+appeal for myself. There will be time enough for that later on, when
+you have come to realize what your deliverance means."
+
+She faced him, slowly, a steady calm in her face, a soft intensity
+in her voice.
+
+"You need not hope that I shall forgive this outrage--ever--as long
+as I live. You may have had motives which from your point of view
+were good and justifiable--but you must not expect me to agree with
+you. You have done something that no love on earth could obliterate;
+you have robbed my memory of a sweet confidence, of the one glorious
+thing that made me look upon you as the best of men--your nobility.
+I recognize you as the leader in this cowardly conspiracy, but what
+must I think of these willing tools you plead for? Are they entitled
+to my respect any more than you? I am in your power. You can and
+will do with me as you like, but you cannot compel me to alter that
+over which I have no control--my reason. Oh, how could you do this
+dreadful thing, Phil?" she cried, suddenly casting the forced
+reserve to the winds and relapsing into a very undignified appeal.
+He smiled wearily and met her gaze with one in which no irresolution
+flickered.
+
+"It was my only way," he said, at last.
+
+"The only way!" she exclaimed. "There was but one way, and I had
+commanded you to take it. Do you expect to justify yourself by
+saying it was the 'only way'? To drag me from my mother, to destroy
+every vestige of confidence I had in you, to make me the most
+talked-of woman in Europe to-day--was that the 'only way'? What are
+they doing and saying to-day? Of what are the newspapers talking
+under those horrid headlines? What are the police, the detectives,
+the gossips doing? I am the object on which their every thought is
+centered. Oh, it is maddening to think of what you, of all people,
+have heaped upon me!"
+
+She paced the floor like one bereft of reason. His heart smote him
+as he saw the anguish he had brought into the soul of the girl he
+loved better than everything.
+
+"And my poor mother. What of her? Have you no pity, no heart? Don't
+you see that it will kill her? For God's sake, let me go back to
+her, Phil! Be merciful!" she cried.
+
+"She is safe and well, Dorothy; I swear it on my soul. True, she
+suffers, but it is better she should suffer now and find joy
+afterward than to see you suffer for a lifetime. You would not
+listen to me when I told you the man you were to marry was a
+scoundrel. There was but one way to save you from him and from
+yourself; there was but one way to save you for myself, and I took
+it. I could not and would not give you up to that villain. I love
+you, Dorothy; you cannot doubt that, even though you hate me for
+proving it to you. Everything have I dared, to save you and to win
+you--to make you gladly say some day that you love me."
+
+Her eyes blazed with scorn. "Love you? After what you have done? Oh,
+that I could find words to tell you how I hate you!" She stopped in
+front of him, her white face and gleaming eyes almost on a level
+with his, and he could not but quail before the bitter loathing that
+revealed itself so plainly. Involuntarily his hand went forth in
+supplication, and the look in his eyes came straight from the depths
+into which despair had cast him. If she saw the pain in his face her
+outraged sensibilities refused to recognize it.
+
+"Dorothy, you--you--" he began, but pulled himself together quickly
+"I did not come in the hope of making you look at things through my
+eyes. It is my mission to acknowledge as true, all that Lady
+Saxondale has told you concerning my culpability. I alone am guilty
+of wrong, and I am accountable. If we are found out, I have planned
+carefully to protect my friends. Yet a great deal rests with you.
+When the law comes to drag me from this place, its officers will
+find me alone, with you here as my accuser. My friends will have
+escaped. They are your friends as well as mine. You will do them
+thejustice of accusing but me, for I alone am the criminal."
+
+"You assume a great deal when you dictate what I am to do and to
+say, if I have the opportunity. They are as guilty as you, and
+without an incentive. Do you imagine that I shall shield them? I
+have no more love for them than I have for you; not half the
+respect, for you, at least, have been consistent. Will you answer
+one question?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"How long do you purpose to keep me in this place?"
+
+"Until you, of your own free will, can utter three simple words."
+
+"And those words?"
+
+"I love you."
+
+"Then," she said, slowly, decisively, "I am doomed to remain here
+until death releases me."
+
+"Yes; the death of ambition."
+
+She turned from him with a bitter laugh, seating herself in a chair
+near the window. Looking up into his face, she said, with maddening
+submission:
+
+"I presume your daily visits are to be a part of the torture I am to
+endure?"
+
+His smile, as he shook his head in response, incensed her to the
+point of tears, and she was vastly relieved when he turned abruptly
+and left the apartment. When the maid came in she found Miss
+Garrison asleep on the couch, her cheeks stained with tears. Tired,
+despairing, angry, she had found forgetfulness for the while. Sleep
+sat lightly upon her troubled brain, however, for the almost
+noiseless movements of the maid awakened her and she sat up with a
+start.
+
+"Oh, it is you!" she said, after a moment. "What is your name?'
+
+"Baker, Miss."
+
+The captive sat on the edge of the couch and for many minutes
+watched, through narrow eyes, the movements of the servant. A plan
+was growing in her brain, and she was contemplating the situation in
+a new and determined frame of mind.
+
+"Baker," she said, finally, "come here." The maid stood before her,
+attentively.
+
+"Would you like to earn a thousand pounds?"
+
+Without the faintest show of emotion, the least symptom of eagerness,
+Baker answered in the affirmative.
+
+"Then you have but to serve me as I command, and the money is yours."
+
+"I have already been instructed to serve you, Miss."
+
+"I don't mean for you to dress my hair and to fasten my gown and all
+that. Get me out of this place and to my friends. That is what I
+mean," whispered Dorothy, eagerly.
+
+"You want to buy me, Miss?' said Baker, calmly.
+
+"Not that, quite, Baker, but just--"
+
+"You will not think badly of me if I cannot listen to your offer,
+Miss? I am to serve you here, and I want you to like me, but I
+cannot do what you would ask. Pardon me if I speak plainly, but I
+cannot be bought." There was no mistaking the honest expression in
+the maid's eyes. "Lady Saxondale is my mistress, and I love her. If
+she asks me to take you to your friends, I will obey."
+
+Dorothy's lips parted and a look of incredulity grew in her eyes.
+For a moment she stared with unconcealed wonder upon this unusual
+girl, and then wonder slowly changed to admiration.
+
+"Would that all maids were as loyal, Baker. Lady Saxondale trusts
+you and so shall I. But," wonder again manifesting itself, "I cannot
+understand such fidelity. Not for £5,000?"
+
+"No, Miss; thank you," respectfully and firmly.
+
+"Ask Lady Saxondale if I may come to her."
+
+The maid departed, and soon returned to say that Lady Saxondale
+would gladly see her. Dorothy followed her down the long, dark hall
+and into the boudoir of Castle Craneycrow's mistress. Lady Jane sat
+on the broad window seat, looking pensively out at the blue sky.
+There was in the room such an air of absolute peace and security
+that Dorothy's heart gave a sharp, wistful throb.
+
+"I'm glad you've come, Dorothy," said Lady Saxondale, approaching
+from the shadowy side of the room. Dorothy turned to see the hands
+of her ladyship extended as if calling her to friendly embrace. For
+a moment she looked into the clear, kindly eyes of the older woman,
+and then, overcome by a strange, inexplicable longing for love and
+sympathy, dropped her hands into those which were extended.
+
+"I've come to beg, Lady Saxondale--to beg you to be kind to me, to
+have pity for my mother. I can ask no more," she said, simply.
+
+"I love you, dear; we all love you. Be content for a little while, a
+little while, and then you will thank Heaven and thank us."
+
+"I demand that you release me," cried the other. "You are committing
+a crime against all justice. Release me, and I promise to forget the
+part you are taking in this outrage. Trust me to shield you and
+yours absolutely."
+
+"You ask me to trust you. Now, I ask you to trust me. Trust me to
+shield you and to--"
+
+"You are cruel!"
+
+"Forgive me," said Lady Saxondale, simply. She pressed the hands
+warmly, and passed from the room. Dorothy felt her head reel, and
+there was in her heart the dread of losing something precious, she
+knew not what.
+
+"Come up into the tower with me, Dorothy," said Lady Jane, coming to
+her side, her voice soft and entreating. "The view is grand. Mr.
+Savage and I were there early this morning to see the sun rise."
+
+"Are you all against me? Even you, Lady Jane? Oh, how have I wronged
+you that I should be made to suffer so at your hands? Yes, yes! Take
+me to the tower! I can't stay here."
+
+"I shall ask Mr. Savage to go with us. He will hold you. It would be
+too bad to have you try to fly from up there, because it's a long
+way to the crags, and you'd never fly again--in this world, at
+least. I believe I'll call Dickey, to be on the safe side."
+
+There was something so merry, so free and unrestrained about her
+that Dorothy smiled in spite of herself. With a new sensation in her
+heart, she followed her guide to the top of the broad stairway. Here
+her ladyship paused, placed two pink fingers between her teeth, and
+sent a shrill whistle sounding down between the high walls.
+
+"All right!" came a happy voice from below. There was a scramble of
+feet, two or three varied exclamations in masculine tones, and then
+Mr. Savage came bounding up the stairs. "Playing chess with your
+brother and had to break up the game. When duty calls, you know.
+Morning, Miss Garrison. What's up?"
+
+"We're just on the point of going up," said Jane, sweetly. "Up in
+the tower. Miss Garrison wants to see how far she can fly."
+
+"About 800 feet, I should say, Miss Garrison. It's quite a drop to
+the rocks down there. Well, we're off to the top of Craneycrow.
+Isn't that a jolly old name?"
+
+"Chick o' me, Chick o' me, Craneycrow, Went to the well to wash her
+toe, When she got back her chicken was dead--chick o' me, Chick o'
+me, chop off his head--What time is it, old witch?"
+
+"Who gave the castle such an odd, uncanny name?" asked Dorothy,
+under the spell of their blithesome spirits.
+
+"Lady Jane--the young lady on your left, an' may it please you,
+Miss," said Dickey.
+
+"Bob couldn't think of a name for the old thing, so he commissioned
+me. Isn't Craneycrow delightful? Crane--that's a bird, you know, and
+crow is another bird, too, you know; isn't it a joy? I'm so proud of
+it," cried Lady Jane, as she scurried up the narrow, winding stone
+steps that led to the top of the tower. Dorothy followed more
+sedately, the new-born smile on her lips, the excitement of a new
+emotion surging over the wall of anger she had thrown up against
+these people.
+
+"I wish I could go out and explore the hills and rocks about this
+place," said Dickey, wistfully.
+
+"Why can't you? Is it dangerous?" queried Dorothy.
+
+"Heavens, no! Perfectly safe in that respect. Oh, I forgot; you
+don't know, of course. Phil Quentin and your devoted servant are not
+permitted to show their faces outside these walls."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, you see, we're in America. Don't you understand? You're not
+the only prisoner, Miss Garrison. Behold two bold, bad bandits as
+your fellow captives. Alas! that I should have come to the cruel
+prison cell!"
+
+"I had not thought of that," said Miss Garrison, reflectively, and
+then she looked upon Dickey with a new interest. They crawled
+through the trap door and out upon the stone-paved, airy crown of
+the tower. She uttered an exclamation of awe and shrank back from
+the sky that seemed to press down upon her. Nothing but sky--blue
+sky! Then she peered over the low wall, down upon the rocks below,
+and shuddered.
+
+"Hello, Phil! Great, isn't it?" exclaimed Dickey, and Dorothy
+realized that Quentin was somewhere behind her in the little
+rock-bound circle among the clouds. A chill fell upon her heart, and
+she would not turn toward the man whose very name brought rage to
+her heart.
+
+"Magnificent! I have been up here in the sun and the gale for half
+an hour. Here are the newspapers, Lady Jane; Bob's man brought them
+an hour ago. There is something in them that will interest you,
+Dorothy. Pardon me, but I must go down. And don't fall off the
+tower, Lady Jane."
+
+"Don't worry, grandfather; I'll be a good little girl and I shan't
+fall off the tower, because I'm so afraid you'd find it out and beat
+me and send me to bed without my supper. Won't you stay up just a
+wee bit longer?"
+
+"Now, don't coax, little girl. I must go down."
+
+"See you later," Dickey called after him as he disappeared through
+the narrow opening. Dorothy turned her stony face slightly, and
+quick, angry eyes looked for an instant into the upturned face of
+the man who was swallowed in the darkness of the trap hole almost in
+the same second.
+
+"Don't fall off the tower, Lady Jane," came the hollow voice from
+the ladders far below, and, to Dorothy's sensitive ears, there was
+the most devilish mockery in the tones.
+
+"I can forgive all of you--all of you, but--but--never that inhuman
+wretch! Oh, how I hate him!" cried she, her face ablaze, her voice
+trembling with passion.
+
+"Oh, Dorothy!" cried Lady Jane, softly, imploringly.
+
+"I wish from my soul, that this tower might tumble down and kill him
+this instant, and that his bones could never be found!" wailed the
+other.
+
+"There's an awful weight above him, Miss Garrison--the weight of
+your wrath," said Dickey, without a smile.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV. THE WHITE FLAG
+
+
+After returning to her room later on, Dorothy eagerly devoured the
+contents of the newspapers, which were a day or two old. They
+devoted columns to the great abduction mystery; pictured the grief
+of the mother and marvelled at her courage and fortitude; traced the
+brigands over divers streets to the deserted house; gave interviews
+with the bride's fiance, her uncle and the servants who were found
+in the stables; speculated on the designs of the robbers, their
+whereabouts and the nature of their next move; drew vivid and
+terrifying visions of the lovely bride lying in some wretched cave,
+hovel or cellar, tortured and suffering the agony of the damned.
+Opinions of police officers disclosed some astonishing solutions to
+the mystery, but, withal, there was a tone of utter bewilderment in
+the situation as they pictured it. She read the long and valiant
+declaration of Prince Ugo Ravorelli, the frantic, broken-hearted
+bridegroom, in which he swore to rescue the fair one from the
+dastards, "whoever and wherever they might be." Somehow, to her, his
+words, in cold print, looked false, artificial, theatrical--anything
+but brave and convincing.
+
+She stared in amazement at the proclamation offering 100,000 francs
+for her restoration. The general opinion, however, was that the
+abductors might reasonably be expected to submit a proposition to
+give up their prize for not less than twice the amount. To a man the
+police maintained that Miss Garrison was confined somewhere in the
+city of Brussels. There were, with the speculations and conjectures,
+no end of biographical sketches and portraits. She found herself
+reading with a sort of amused interest the story of how one of the
+maids had buckled her satin slippers, another had dressed her hair,
+another had done something and another something else. It was all
+very entertaining, in spite of the conditions that made the stories
+possible. But what amused her most of all were the wild guesses as
+to her present whereabouts. There was a direful unanimity of opinion
+that she was groveling in her priceless wedding-gown on the floor of
+some dark, filthy cellar. The papers vividly painted her as haggard,
+faint, despairing of succor, beating her breast and tearing her
+beautiful hair in the confines of a foul-smelling hole in the
+ground, crying for help in tones that would melt a heart of stone,
+and guarded by devils in the guise of men.
+
+Then she came to the paragraph which urged the utmost punishment
+that law could inflict upon the desperadoes. The outraged populace
+could be appeased with nothing save death in its most ignominious,
+inglorious form. The trials would be short, the punishment swift and
+sure. The people demanded the lives of the villains.
+
+For a long time she sat with expressionless eyes, staring at the
+wall opposite, thinking of the five persons who kept her a prisoner,
+thinking of the lives the people longed to take, thinking of death.
+Death to pretty Lady Jane, to Lady Saxondale, to Lord Bob, to Dickey
+Savage--the hunted--and to Philip Quentin, the arch conspirator! To
+kill them, to butcher them, to tear them to pieces--that was what it
+meant, if they were taken before the maddened people. When Baker
+brought in the tea, Dorothy was shivering as one with a chill, and
+there was a new terror in her soul. What if they were taken? Could
+she endure the thought that death was sure to come to them, or to
+two of 'them, at least? Two of the men? Two Americans?
+
+During the next three days she refused to leave her room, coldly
+declining the cordial invitations to make one of a very merry house
+party, as Lady Jane called it. Her meals were sent to her room, and
+Baker was her constant attendant. Into her cheek came the dull white
+of loneliness and despair, into her eye the fever of unrest. The
+visits met with disdain, and gradually they became less frequent. On
+the third day of this self-inflicted separation she sat alone from
+early morn until dusk without the first sign of a visit from either
+Lady Saxondale or Lady Jane.
+
+All day long she had been expecting them, and now she was beginning
+to hunger for them. A ridiculous, inconsistent irritation had been
+building itself in her heart since midday, and at dusk it reached
+its limit in unmistakable rage. That they might be willing to ignore
+her entirely had not entered her mind before. Her heart was very
+bitter toward the disagreeable creatures who left her alone all day
+in a stuffy room, and in a most horrid temper to boot.
+
+From below, at different times during the afternoon, came the happy
+laughter of men and women, rollicking songs, the banging of a piano
+in tantalizing "rag-time" by strong New York fingers, the soft boom
+of a Chinese dinner gong and--oh! it was maddening to sit away up
+there and picture the heartless joy that reigned below. When Baker
+left the room, Dorothy, like a guilty child, sneaked--actually
+sneaked--to the hall door, opened it softly, and listened with
+wrathful longing to the signs of life and good cheer that came to
+her ears. Desolate, dispirited, hungry for the companionship of even
+thieves and robbers, she dragged herself to the broad window and
+looked darkly down upon the green and gray world.
+
+Her pride was having a mighty battle. For three long days had she
+maintained a stubborn resistance to all the allurements they could
+offer; she had been strong and steadfast to her purpose until this
+hour came to make her loneliness almost unendurable--the hour when
+she saw they were mean enough to pay her in the coin of her own
+making. Now she was crying for them to come and lift the pall of
+solitude, to brighten the world for her, to drive the deadly
+sickness out of her heart. They had ignored her for a whole day,
+because, she was reasonable enough to see, they felt she did not
+want them to be near her. Would they never come to her again? Pride
+was commanding her to scorn them forever, but a lonely heart was
+begging for fellowship.
+
+"Baker!" she called, suddenly, turning from the window, her face
+aglow, her breath coming fast, her heart bounding with a new
+resolution--or the breaking of an old one. Baker did not respond at
+once, and the now thoroughly aroused young lady hurried impatiently
+to the bedchamber in quest of her. The maid was seated in a window,
+with ears as deaf as a stone, reading the harrowing news from the
+latest newspaper that had come to Castle Craneycrow. Dorothy had
+read every line of the newest developments, and had laughed
+scornfully over the absurd clews the police were following. She had
+been seen simultaneously in Liverpool and in London and in Paris and
+in Brussels. And by reputable witnesses, too.
+
+"Baker!"
+
+"Yes, Miss," and the paper rattled to the floor, for there was a new
+tone in the voice that called to her.
+
+"You may go to Lady Saxondale and say that I accept yesterday's
+invitation to dine with her and Lord Saxondale."
+
+"Yesterday's invitation--you mean to-day's, Miss--" in bewildered
+tones.
+
+"I mean yesterday's, Baker. You forget that I have no invitation for
+to-day. Tell her that Miss Garrison will be delighted to dine with
+her."
+
+Baker flew out of the room and downstairs with the message, the
+purport of which did not sift through her puzzled head until Lady
+Saxondale smiled and instructed her to inform Miss Garrison that she
+would be charmed to have her dine with her both yesterday and
+to-day.
+
+In the meantime Dorothy was reproaching herself for her weakness in
+surrendering. She would meet Quentin, perhaps be placed beside him.
+While she could not or would not speak to him, the situation was
+sure to be uncomfortable. And they would think she was giving in to
+them, and he would think she was giving in to him--and--but anything
+was better than exile.
+
+While standing at the window awaiting Baker's return, her gaze fell
+upon a solitary figure, trudging along the white, snake-like road,
+far down among the foothills--the figure of a priest in his long
+black robe. He was the first man she had seen on the road, and she
+watched him with curious, speculative eyes.
+
+"A holy priest," she was thinking; "the friend of all in distress.
+Why not me? Would he, could he help me? Oh, good father, if you
+could but hear me, if I could but reach your ears! How far away he
+is, what a little speck he seems away down there! Why, I believe he
+is--yes, he is looking up at the castle. Can he see me? But, pshaw!
+How could he know that I am held here against my will? Even if he
+sees my handkerchief, how can he know that I want him to help me?"
+She was waving her handkerchief to the lonely figure in the road. To
+her amazement he paused, apparently attracted by the signal. For a
+brief instant he gazed upward, then dropped his cowled head and
+moved slowly away. She watched him until the trees of the valley hid
+his form from view, and she was alone with the small hope that he
+might again some day pass over the lonely road and understand.
+
+When the dinner gong rang, she was ready to face the party, but
+there was a lively thumping in her breast as she made her way down
+the steps. At the bottom she was met by Lady Saxondale, and a
+moment later Lord Bob came up, smiling and good-natured. There was
+a sudden rush of warmth to her heart, the bubbling over of some
+queer emotion, and she was wringing their hands with a gladness she
+could not conceal.
+
+"I am so lonely up there, Lady Saxondale," she said, simply,
+unreservedly.
+
+"Try to look upon us as friends, Dorothy; trust us, and you will
+find more happiness here than you suspect. Castle Craneycrow was
+born and went to ruin in the midst of feud and strife; it has
+outlived its feudal days, so let there be no war between us," said
+her ladyship, earnestly.
+
+"If we must live together within its battered walls, let us hoist a
+flag of truce, pick up the gauntlet and tie up the dogs of war,"
+added bluff Lord Bob.
+
+Dorothy smiled, and said: "There is one here who is not and can
+never be included in our truce. I ask you to protect me from him.
+That is the one condition I impose."
+
+"You have no enemies here, my dear."
+
+"But I have a much too zealous friend."
+
+"Last call for dinner in the dining-car," shouted Dickey Savage,
+corning down the stairs hurriedly. "I was afraid I'd be late. Glad
+to see you. I haven't had a chance to ask how you enjoyed that view
+from the tower the other day." She had given him her hand and he was
+shaking it rapturously.
+
+"It was glorious, and I haven't had the opportunity to ask if you
+have explored the hills and forest."
+
+"I'm afraid of snakes and other creeping things," he said, slyly.
+
+They had gone to the dining-room when Quentin entered. He was paler
+than usual, but he was as calm, as easy and as self-possessed as if
+he had never known a conscience in all his life. She was not looking
+at him when he bowed to her, but she heard his clear voice say:
+
+"I am glad to see you, Dorothy."
+
+He sat across the table, beside Lady Jane, who was opposite Dorothy.
+If he noticed that she failed to return his greeting, he was not
+troubled. To his credit be it said, however, he did not again
+address a remark to her during the meal. Within the sound of his
+voice, under the spell of his presence, in such close proximity to
+his strong, full-blooded body, she could not but give a part of her
+thought to this man who, of all others, the mob would slay if they
+had the chance.
+
+She could not conceal from herself the relief she felt in mingling
+with friends. A willful admiration grew full in the face of
+resentful opposition, and there was a reckless downfall of dignity.
+They treated her without restraint, talked as freely of their
+affairs as if she were not there, boldly discussed the situation in
+Brussels, and laughed over the frantic efforts of the authorities.
+Helplessly she was drawn into the conversation, and, at last, to her
+dismay, joined with them in condolences to the police.
+
+"But some day they will find the right trail and pounce upon you
+like so many wild beasts," she said, soberly. "What then? You may be
+laughing too soon."
+
+"It would be hard luck to have to break up such an awfully nice
+house party," said Dickey, solemnly.
+
+"And the papers say they will kill us without compunction," added
+Lady Jane.
+
+"It wouldn't be the first slaughter this old house has known," said
+Lord Bob. "In the old days they used to kill people here as a form
+of amusement."
+
+"It might amuse some people even in our case, but not for me,
+thanks," said Quentin. "They'd execute me first, however, and I
+wouldn't have to endure the grief of seeing the rest of you tossed
+out of the windows."
+
+"Do you really believe they would kill poor little me?" demanded
+Lady Jane, slowly, her eyes fastened on her brother's face.
+
+"Good Heaven, no!" cried Dorothy, at the possibility of such a
+calamity. "Why should they kill a helpless girl like you?"
+
+"But I am one of the wretches they are hunting for. I'm a
+desperado," argued Lady Jane.
+
+"I'd insist on their killing Lady Jane just the same as the rest of
+us. It would be all wrong to discriminate, even if she is young
+and--and--well, far from ugly," declared Dickey, decidedly.
+
+"You might try to save my life, Mr. Savage; it would be the heroic
+thing to do," she said.
+
+"Well I'll agree to let 'em kill me twice if it will do any good.
+They'd surely be obliging if I said it was to please a lady.
+Couldn't you suggest something of the kind to them, Miss Garrison?
+You know the whole massacre is in your honor, and I imagine you
+might have a good bit to say about the minor details. Of course,
+Lady Jane and I are minor details--purely incidentals."
+
+"We are in the chorus, only," added Lady Jane, humbly.
+
+"If you persist in this talk about being killed, I'll go upstairs
+and never come down again," cried Dorothy, wretchedly, and the
+company laughed without restraint.
+
+"Dickey, if you say another word that sounds like 'kill' I'll murder
+you myself," threatened Lord Bob.
+
+Lady Jane began whetting a silver table knife on the edge of her
+plate.
+
+That evening Dorothy did not listen to Dickey Savage's rag-time
+music from an upstairs room. She stood, with Lady Jane, beside the
+piano bench and fervently applauded, joined in the chorus and
+consoled herself with the thought that it was better to be a merry
+prisoner than a doleful one. She played while Dickey and Jane
+danced, and she laughed at the former's valiant efforts to teach the
+English girl how to "cake walk."
+
+Philip Quentin, with his elbows on the piano, moodily watched her
+hands, occasionally relaxing into a smile when the laughter became
+general. Not once did he address her, and not once did she look up
+at him. At last he wandered away, and when next she saw him he was
+sitting in a far corner of the big room, his eyes half closed, his
+head resting comfortably against the high back of the chair.
+
+Lord and Lady Saxondale hovered about the friendly piano, and there
+was but one who looked the outcast. Conditions had changed. She was
+within a circle of pleasure, he outside. She gloated in the fact
+that he had been driven into temporary exile, and that he could not
+find a place in the circle as long as she was there. Occasionally
+one or the other of his accomplices glanced anxiously toward the
+quiet outsider, but no one asked him to come into the fold. In the
+end, his indifference began to irritate her. When Lady Saxondale rang
+for the candles near the midnight hour, she took her candlestick from
+the maid, with no little relief, and unceremoniously made her way
+toward the hall. She nervously uttered a general good-night to the
+party and flushed angrily when Quentin's voice responded with the
+others:
+
+"Good-night, Dorothy."
+
+
+
+
+XXV. DOWN AMONG THE GHOSTS
+
+
+"I cannot endure it," she cried to herself a dozen times before
+morning. "I shall go mad if I have to see his face and hear his
+voice and feel that he is looking at me. There must be a way to
+escape from this place, there must be a way. I will risk anything to
+get away from him!"
+
+At breakfast she did not see him; he had eaten earlier with Lord
+Bob. The others noted the hunted look in her eye and saw that she
+had passed a sleepless night. The most stupendous of Dickey's
+efforts to enliven the dreary table failed, and there was utter
+collapse to the rosy hopes they had begun to build. Her brain was
+filled by one great thought--escape. While they were jesting she was
+wondering how and where she could find the underground passages of
+which they had spoken and to what point they would lead.
+
+"I'd give a round sum if I could grow a set of whiskers as readily
+and as liberally as Turk," commented Dickey, sadly. "He came out of
+Phil's room this morning, and I dodged behind a door post, thinking
+he was a burglar. Turk looks like a wild man from Borneo, and his
+whiskers are not ten days out. He's letting 'em grow so that he can
+venture outside the castle without fear of recognition. I'd like to
+get outside these walls for half a day."
+
+"I detest whiskers," decided Lady Jane.
+
+"So do I, especially Turk's. But they're vastly convenient, just the
+same. In a couple of days Turk won't know himself when he looks in
+the mirror. I believe I'll try to cultivate a bunch."
+
+"I'm sure they would improve you very much," said Lady Jane,
+aggressively. "What is your idea as to color?"
+
+"Well, I rather fancy a nice amber. I can get one color as easily as
+another. Have you a preference?"
+
+"I think pink or blue would become you, Dickey. But don't let my
+prejudices influence you. Of course, it can't make any difference,
+because I won't recognize you, you know."
+
+"In other words, if I don't cut my whiskers you'll cut me?"
+
+"Dead."
+
+"Lots of nice men have whiskers."
+
+"And so do the goats."
+
+"But a brigand always has a full set--in the opera, at least."
+
+"You are only a brigand's apprentice, and, besides, this isn't an
+opera. It is a society tragedy."
+
+"Won't you have another egg?" he asked, looking politely at her
+plate. Then he inquired if Miss Garrison would like to join him in a
+climb among the rocks. She smiled wistfully and said she would be
+charmed to do so if she were not too feeble with age when the time
+came to start.
+
+Consumed with a desire to acquaint herself with her surroundings,
+she begged her companions to take her over the castle from turret to
+cellar. Later in the day, with Turk carrying the lantern, she was
+eagerly taking notes in the vast, spooky caves of Craneycrow.
+
+Vaulted chambers here, narrow passages there, spider-ridden ceilings
+that awoke to life as the stooping visitors rustled beneath them,
+slimy walls and ringing floors, all went to make up the vast grave
+in which she was to bury all hope of escape. Immense were the
+iron-bound doors that led from one room to another; huge the bolts
+and rusty the hinges; gruesome and icy the atmosphere; narrow the
+steps that led to regions deeper in the bowels of the earth.
+Dorothy's heart sank like lead as she surveyed the impregnable walls
+and listened to the mighty groans of long-sleeping doors as the
+shoulder of the sturdy Turk awoke them to torpid activity. There was
+surprise and resentment in the creak of grim old hinges, in the
+moans of rheumatic timbers, in the jangle of lazy chains and locks.
+The stones on which they trod seemed to snap back in the echo of
+their footfalls a harsh, strident laugh of derision. Every shadow
+grinned mockingly at her; the very darkness ahead of the lantern's
+way seemed to snort angrily at the approach of the intruders. The
+whole of that rockbound dungeon roared defiance in answer to her
+timid prayer, and snarled an ugly challenge to her courage.
+
+Lady Saxondale and Dickey confronted two rather pale-faced girls
+when the party of explorers again stood in the sunlit halls above.
+Across their shrinking faces cobwebs were lashed, plastered with the
+dank moisture of ages; in their eyes gleamed relief and from their
+lips came long breaths of thankfulness. Turk, out of sight and
+hearing, was roundly cursing the luck that had given him such a
+disagreeable task as the one just ended. From the broad, warm
+windows in the south drawing-room, once the great banquet hall, the
+quartet of uncomfortable sight-seekers looked out upon the open
+courtyard that stretched down to the fort-like wall, and for the
+moment Dorothy envied Philip Quentin. He was briskly pacing the
+stone-paved inclosure, smoking his pipe and basking in the sunshine
+that had never penetrated to the horrors of Castle Craneycrow. Lord
+Bob was serenely lounging on a broad oaken bench, his back to the
+sun, reading from some musty-backed book.
+
+"Oh, won't you let me go out in the sun for just a little while?"
+she cried, imploringly. A mist came over Lady Saxondale's eyes and
+Dickey turned away abruptly.
+
+"As often as you like, Dorothy. The courtyard is yours as much as it
+is ours. Jane, will you take her through our fort? Show her the
+walls, the parapets, the bastions, and where the moat and drawbridge
+were when the place was young. It is very interesting, Dorothy."
+
+With Dickey and Lady Jane, Dorothy passed into the courtyard and
+into the open air for the first time in nearly a week. She felt like
+a bird with clipped wings. The most casual inspection convinced her
+that there was no possible chance of escape from the walled
+quadrangle, in the center of which loomed the immense,
+weather-painted castle. The wall was high and its strength was as
+unbroken as in its earliest days. Lord Saxondale joined them and
+explained to her all the points of interest about the castle as
+viewed from the outside, but Quentin quietly abandoned his walk and
+disappeared.
+
+"It is as difficult to get out of Castle Craney-crow as it is to get
+in, I dare say," observed Dorothy, looking with awe upon the grim
+old pile of rocks, they called a castle. Far above their heads stood
+the tower, from which she had seen earth and sky as if in a
+panorama, three days before.
+
+"One might be able to get out if he could fly. It seems the only
+way, provided, of course, there were opposition to his departure,"
+said Lord Bob, smiling.
+
+"Alas, I cannot fly," she said, directly.
+
+At the rear of the castle, where the stonework had been battered
+down by time, man and the elements, she saw several servants at
+work. "You have trustworthy servants, Lord Saxondale. I have tried
+to bribe one of them."
+
+"You see, Miss Garrison, they love Lady Frances. That is the secret
+of their loyalty. The chances are they'd sell me out to-morrow, but
+they'd die before they'd cut loose from my wife. By Jove, I don't
+understand how it is that everybody is won over by you American
+women."
+
+During the trip through the cellars, Dorothy had learned that the
+secret passages to the outside world began in the big chamber under
+the tower. Lady Saxondale had unwittingly confessed, while they were
+in the room, that two of the big rocks in the wall were false and
+that they were in reality doors which opened into the passages. One
+of the passages was over a mile long, and there were hundreds of
+steps to descend before one reached a level where walking was not
+laborious. The point of egress was through a hidden cave up the
+valley, near the ruins of an old church. Where the other passage had
+once led to she did not know, for it had been closed by the caving
+in of a great pile of rocks.
+
+With a determined spirit and a quaking courage, Dorothy vowed that
+she would sooner or later find this passage-way and make a bold dash
+for liberty. Her nerves were tingling with excitement, eagerness and
+a horror of the undertaking, and she could scarcely control herself
+until the opportunity might come for a surreptitious visit to the
+underground regions. Her first thought was to locate, if possible,
+the secret door leading into the passage. With that knowledge in her
+possession she could begin the flight at once, or await a favorable
+hour on some later day.
+
+That very afternoon brought the opportunity for which she was
+waiting. The other women retired for their naps, and the men went to
+the billiard room. The lower halls were deserted, and she had little
+difficulty in making her way unseen to the door that led to the
+basement. Here she paused irresolutely, the recollection of the
+dismal, grasping solitude that dwelt beyond the portal sending again
+the chill to her bones.
+
+She remembered that Turk had hung the lantern on a peg just inside
+the door, and she had provided herself with matches. To turn the
+key, open the door, pass through and close it, required no vast
+amount of courage, for it would be but an instant until she could
+have a light. Almost before she knew what she had done, she was in
+the drafty, damp stairway, and the heavy door was between her and
+her unsuspecting captors. With trembling, agitated fingers she
+struck a match. It flickered and went out. Another and another met
+the same fate, and she began to despair. The darkness seemed to
+choke her, a sudden panic rushed up and overwhelmed her fainting
+courage, and with a smothered cry of terror she turned to throw open
+the door. But the door refused to open! A modern spring lock had set
+itself against her return to the coveted security of the halls
+above.
+
+A deathly faintness came over her. She sobbed as she threw herself
+against the stubborn door and pounded upon its panels with her
+hands. Something dreadful seemed to be crawling up from behind, out
+of the cavernous hole that was always night. The paroxysms of fear
+and dread finally gave way to despair, and despair is ever the
+parent of pluck. Impatiently she again undertook the task of
+lighting the lantern, fearing to breathe lest she destroy the
+wavering, treacherous flame that burnt inside her bleeding hands.
+Her pretty knuckles were bruised and cut in the reckless pounding on
+the door.
+
+At last the candle inside the lantern's glass began to flicker
+feebly, and then came the certainty that perseverance had been
+rewarded. Light filled the narrow way, and she looked timidly down
+the rickety stone steps, dreading to venture into the blackness
+beyond. Ahead lay the possibility of escape, behind lay failure and
+the certainty that no other opportunity would be afforded her. So
+she bravely went down the steps, her knees weakly striking against
+each other, the lantern jangling noisily against the stone wall.
+
+How she managed to reach the chamber under the tower she could not
+have told afterward; she did not know at the time. At last, however,
+she stood, with blood chilled to the curdling point, in the center
+of the room that knew the way to the outside world. Pounding on the
+rocky walls with a piece of stone against which her foot had struck,
+she at length found a block that gave forth the hollow sound she
+longed to hear. Here, then, was the key to the passage, and it only
+remained for her to discover the means by which the osbtruction
+could be moved from the opening.
+
+For half an hour, cold with fear and nervousness, she sought for the
+traditional spring, but her efforts were in vain. There was
+absolutely no solution, and it dawned upon her that she was doomed
+to return to the upper world defeated. Indeed, unless she could make
+those in the castle hear her cries, it was possible that she might
+actually die of starvation in the pitiless cavern. The lantern
+dropped from her palsied fingers, and she half sank against the
+stubborn door in the wall. To be back once more in the rooms above,
+with cheery human beings instead of with the spirits of she knew not
+how many murdered men and women, was now her only desire, her only
+petition.
+
+The contact of her body with the slab in some way brought about the
+result for which she had striven. The door moved slowly downward and
+a dash of freezing air came from the widening aperture at the top,
+blowing damp across her face. Staggering away from the ghostlike
+hole that seemed to grin fiendishly until it spread itself into a
+long, black gulf with eyes, a voice, and clammy hands, she grabbed
+up the still lighted lantern and cried aloud in a frenzy of fear.
+The door slowly sank out of sight and the way was open but her
+courage was gone. What was beyond that black hole? Could she live in
+the foul air that poured forth from that dismal mouth? Trembling
+like a leaf, she lifted the lantern and peered into the aperture,
+standing quite close to the edge.
+
+Her eyes fastened themselves in mute horror upon the object that
+first met their gaze; she could not breathe, her heart ceased
+beating, and every vestige of life seemed to pass beyond recall. She
+was looking upon the skeleton of a human being, crouched, hunched
+against the wall of the narrow passage, a headless skeleton, for the
+skull rolled out against her feet as the sliding door sank below the
+level. Slowly she backed away from the door, not knowing what she
+did, conscious only that her eyes could not be drawn from the
+horrifying spectacle.
+
+"Oh, God!" she moaned, in direst terror. Her ghastly companion
+seemed to edge himself toward her, an illusion born in the changing
+position of the light as she retreated.
+
+"Dorothy," came a voice behind her, and she screamed aloud in
+terror, dropping the lantern and covering her face with her hands.
+As she swayed limply, a pair of arms closed about her and a voice
+she knew so well called her name again and again. She did not swoon,
+but it was an interminably long time to him before she exhibited the
+faintest sign of life other than the convulsive shudders that swept
+through her body. At last her hands clasped his arm fiercely and her
+body stiffened.
+
+"Is it you, Phil? Oh, is it really you? Take me away from this
+place! Anywhere, anywhere! I'll do anything you say, but don't let
+that awful thing come near me!" she wailed. By the flickering light
+he caught the terrified expression in her eyes.
+
+"You are safe, dear. I'll carry you upstairs, if you like," he said,
+softly.
+
+"I can walk, or run. Oh, why did I come here? But, Phil," suddenly,
+"we are locked in this place. We can't get out!"
+
+"Oh, yes, we can," he cried, quickly. "Come with me." He picked up
+the lantern, threw an arm about her and hurried toward the stairs
+that led aloft. Afterwards he was not ashamed to admit that he
+imagined he felt bony hands clutching at him from behind, and fear
+lent speed to his legs. Up the stairs they crowded, and he clutched
+at the huge handle on the door. In surprise, he threw his weight
+against the timbers, and a moment later dropped back with an
+exclamation of dismay. The door was locked!
+
+"What does it mean!" he gasped. "I left it standing open when I came
+down. The draft must have shut it. Don't be alarmed, Dorothy; I'll
+kick the damned thing down. What an idiot I was to tell no one that
+I was coming down here." But his kicking did not budge the door, and
+the noise did not bring relief. She held the lantern while he fought
+with the barricade, and she was strangely calm and brave. The queer
+turn of affairs was gradually making itself felt, and her brain was
+clearing quickly. She was not afraid, now that he was there, but a
+new sensation was rushing into her heart. It was the sensation of
+shame and humiliation. That he, of all men, should find her in that
+unhappy, inglorious plight, ending her bold dash for freedom with
+the most womanly of failures, was far from comforting, to say the
+least.
+
+"Dorothy, I can't move it. I've kicked my toes off, and my knees are
+bleeding, but there it stands like a rock. We've got to stay here
+till some one chances to hear us," he said, ruefully. "Are you
+afraid now?"
+
+"Why didn't you spring the lock when you came down? This is a pretty
+pass, I must say," she said, her voice still shaky, her logic
+abnormal.
+
+"I like that! Were you any better off before I came than you are
+now? How were you going to get out, may I ask?" he demanded, coolly
+seating himself on the top step. She stood leaning against the
+wooden door, the diplomatic lantern between them.
+
+"I was going out by another way," she said, shortly, but a shudder
+gave the lie to the declaration.
+
+"Do you know where that hidden passage leads to?" he asked, looking
+up into her face. She was brushing cobwebs from her dress.
+
+"To a cave near the old church," she replied, triumphantly.
+
+"Blissful ignorance!" he laughed. "It doesn't lead anywhere as it
+now exists. You see, there was a cave-in a few decades ago--"
+
+"Is that the one that caved in?" she cried, in dismay.
+
+"So Saxondale tells me."
+
+"And--and how did the--the--how did that awful thing get in there?"
+she asked, a new awe coming over her.
+
+"Well, that's hard to tell. Bob says the door has never been opened,
+to his knowledge. Nobody knows the secret combination, or whatever
+you call it. The chances are that the poor fellow whose bones we saw
+got locked in there and couldn't get out. So he died. That's what
+might have happened to you, you know."
+
+"Oh, you brute! How can you suggest such a thing?" she cried, and
+she longed to sit close beside him, even though he was her most
+detested enemy.
+
+"Oh, I would have saved you from that fate, never fear."
+
+"But you could not have known that I was inside the passage."
+
+"Do you suppose I came down here on a pleasure trip?"
+
+"You--you don't mean that you knew I was here?"
+
+"Certainly; it is why I came to this blessed spot. It is my duty to
+see that no harm comes to you, Dorothy."
+
+"I prefer to be called Miss Garrison," coldly.
+
+"If you had been merely Miss Garrison to me, you'd be off on a
+bridal tour with Ravorelli at this moment, instead of enjoying a
+rather unusual tete-a-tete with me. Seriously, Dorothy, you will be
+wise if you submit to the inevitable until fate brings a change of
+its own accord. You are brave and determined, I know, and I love you
+more than ever for this daring attempt to get out of Craneycrow, but
+you don't know what it might have brought you to. Good heavens, no
+one knows what dangers lie in those awful passages. They have not
+been used in a hundred years. Think of what you were risking. Don't,
+for your own sake, try anything so uncertain again. I knew you were
+down here, but no one else knows. How you opened that secret door, I
+do not know, but we both know what happened to one other poor wretch
+who solved the mystery."
+
+"I didn't solve it, really I didn't. I don't know how it happened.
+It just opened, that's all, and then I--oh, it was terrible!" She
+covered her eyes with her hands and he leaped to his feet.
+
+"Don't think about it, Dorothy. It was enough to frighten you to
+death. Gad, I should have gone mad had I been in your place." He put
+his arm about her shoulder, and for a moment she offered no
+resistance. Then she remembered who and what he was and imperiously
+lifted angry eyes to his.
+
+"The skeleton may have been a gentleman in his day, Mr. Quentin.
+Even now, as I think of him in horror, he could not be as detestable
+as you. Open this door, sir!" she said, her voice quivering with
+indignation.
+
+"I wish I could--Dorothy, you don't believe that I have the power to
+open this door and am blackguard enough to keep you here? My God,
+what do you think I am?" he cried, drawing away from her.
+
+"Open this door!" she commanded, resolutely. He looked long and
+earnestly into her unflinching eyes, and his heart chilled as if ice
+had clogged the blood.
+
+"I cannot open it," he said at last. With not another word he sat
+down again at her feet, and, for what seemed like an age, neither
+spoke. The lantern sputtered warningly, but they did not know the
+light of its life was ebbing away. They breathed and thought, and
+that was all. At length the chill air began to tell, and he plainly
+heard the chatter of her teeth, the rustling of her dress as her
+body shivered. He arose, stiff and cold, drew off his coat and threw
+it about her shoulders. She resisted at first, but he was master.
+Later his waistcoat was wrapped about her throat and the warm
+lantern was placed at her feet, but she never gave him one look of
+gratitude.
+
+At intervals he pounded on the door until finally there came the
+joyous, rasping sound of a key in the lock, and then excited
+exclamations filled the ears of the two prisoners.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI. "THE KING OF EVIL-DOERS"
+
+
+"Turk has been in Brussels," said Quentin to her on the day
+following her underground adventure. She was walking in the
+courtyard, and her brain was busy with a new interest. Again had the
+lonely priest passed along the road far below, and she had made him
+understand that he was wanted at the castle gates. When he turned
+off the road and began slowly to climb the steep, she was almost
+suffocated with nervous excitement. Her experience of the day before
+had left her unstrung and on the verge of collapse, and she was
+beginning to enjoy a strange resignation.
+
+She was beginning to feel that there were terrors worse than those
+of the kindly prison, and that escape might be tenfold more
+unpleasant than confinement. Then she saw the priest, and her
+half-hearted attempt to attract his attention to her plight,
+resulted so differently from what she had expected that her nerves
+were again leaping with the old desire to outwit her captors. He was
+coming to the castle, but how was she to acquaint him with the true
+state of affairs? She would not be permitted to see him, much less
+to talk with him; of that she was sure. Not knowing what else to do,
+she went into the courtyard and loitered near the big gates, trying
+to appear at ease. She prayed for but a few moments' time in which
+to cry out to him that she was a prisoner and the woman for whom
+100,000 francs were offered in Brussels.
+
+But now comes Quentin upon the scene. His voice was hoarse, and it
+was plain that he had taken a heavy cold in the damp cellar. She
+deliberately turned her back upon him, not so much in disdain as to
+hide the telltale confusion in her face. All hope of conversing with
+the priest was lost if Quentin remained near by.
+
+"I sent him to Brussels, Dorothy, and he has learned something that
+will be of vital interest to you," Philip went on, idly leaning
+against the gate as if fate itself had sent him there to frustrate
+her designs.
+
+"Don't talk to me now, Philip. You must give me time. In an hour,
+when I have gotten over this dreadful headache, I will listen to
+you. But now, for heaven's sake, leave me to myself," she said,
+rapidly, resorting to deception.
+
+"I'm sorry I have disturbed you. In an hour, then, or at any time
+you may feel like listening. It concerns Prince Ugo."
+
+"Is he--what has happened to him?" she demanded, turning to him with
+alarm in her eyes.
+
+"It is not what has happened to him, but to one who was his
+intimate. The woman who warned me to beware of his treachery has
+been murdered in Brussels. Shall I come to you here in an hour?"
+
+"Yes," she said, slowly, the consciousness of a new dread showing
+itself in her voice. It was not until he reentered the house that
+she became fully possessed of a desire to learn more of this
+startling news. Her mind went back to the strange young woman who
+came to her with the story of the prince's duplicity, and her blood
+grew cold with the thought that brutal death had come to her so soon
+after that visit. She recalled the woman's voice, her unquestioned
+refinement, her dignity of bearing and the positiveness with which
+she declared that Ugo would kill her if he knew the nature of her
+visit to his promised wife. And now she was dead--murdered! By whom?
+That question burst upon her with the force of a heavy blow. Who
+killed her?
+
+A pounding on the heavy gate brought her sharply to the project of
+the moment. She walked as calmly as her nerves would admit to the
+gate and called in French:
+
+"Who is there?"
+
+"Father Paul," came a subdued voice from the outside. "Am I wrong in
+believing that I was called here by some one in the castle? Kindly
+admit me. I am fatigued and athirst."
+
+"I cannot open the gate, good Father, You must aid me to escape from
+this place," she cried, eagerly, her breast thumping like a hammer.
+There was no interruption, and she could have shrieked with triumph
+when, five minutes later, the priest bade her be of good cheer and
+to have confidence in him. He would come for her on the next night
+but one, and she should be freed. From her window in the castle she
+saw the holy man descend the steep with celerity not born of
+fatigue. When he reached the road below he turned and waved his hand
+to her and then made his way swiftly into the forest.
+
+After it was all over and relief was promised, her excitement
+subsided and in its place began to grow a dull contemplation of what
+her rescue would mean to the people who were holding her captive. It
+meant exposure, arrest, imprisonment and perhaps death. The appeal
+she had succeeded in getting to the ears of the passing priest would
+soon be public property, and another day might see the jubilant
+minions of the law in front of Castle Craneycrow demanding her
+release and the surrender of the culprits. There was not the joy in
+her heart that she had expected; instead there was a sickening fancy
+that she had done something mean and treacherous. When she rejoined
+the unsuspecting party downstairs soon afterward, a mighty weakness
+assailed her, and it was she, instead of they who had boldly stolen
+her from her home, that felt the pangs of guilt. She went into the
+courtyard where Savage and Lady Jane were playing handball, while
+the Saxondales looked on, happily unconscious of a traitor in their
+midst. For an instant, pale and remorseful, she leaned against the
+door-post, struggling to suppress the tears of pity and contrition.
+Before she had fully recovered her strength Lady Jane was drawing
+her into the contest with Dickey. And so she played cravenly with
+those whose merry hearts she was to crush, listening to the plaudits
+of the two smiling onlookers. It was too late to save them, for a
+priest of God had gone out into the world to herald their guilt and
+to deal a blow that would shatter everything.
+
+Quentin came down a little later, and she was conscious that he
+watched the game with eyes in which pleasure and trouble fought for
+supremacy. Tired at last of the violent exercise, the trio threw
+themselves upon the bench in the shade of the wall, and, with
+glowing faces and thumping breasts, two of them laughed over the
+antics they had cut. Dorothy's lawless lover stood afar off, lonely
+and with the resignation of the despised. Presently he drew near and
+asked if he might join them in the shade.
+
+"What a dreadful cold you have taken, Phil," cried Lady Saxondale,
+anxiously.
+
+"Commonest sort of a cold, I assure you. Damp cellars don't agree
+with me," he said.
+
+"I did not want your coat, but you would give it to me," said
+Dorothy, as if called upon to defend herself for some crime.
+
+"It was you or I for the cold, you know," he said, simply, "and I
+was your protector."
+
+"Right and good," agreed Dickey. "Couldn't do anything else. Lady
+needed a coat, had to have it, and she got it. Duty called and found
+him prepared. That's why he always wears a coat in the presence of
+ladies."
+
+"I've had your friend, the skeleton, buried," said Lord Bob. "Poor
+chap, he seemed all broken up over leaving the place."
+
+"Yes--went all to pieces," added Dickey.
+
+"Dickey Savage, do you think you are funny?" demanded Lady Jane,
+loftily. "I would not jest about the dead."
+
+"The last I saw of him he was grinning like the--"
+
+"Oh, you wretch!" cried the girl, and Dorothy put her fingers to her
+ears.
+
+"Shut up, Dickey," exclaimed Quentin. "Do you care to hear about
+that woman in Brussels, Dorothy?"
+
+"It is of no great consequence to me, but I'll listen if you like,"
+she said, slowly.
+
+Thereupon he related to the party the story of the finding of the
+dead woman in a house near the Garrison home in the Avenue Louise.
+She had been dead for two days and her throat was cut. The house in
+which she was found was the one into which Turk had seen Courant
+disappear on the night of the veranda incident at the Garrison's.
+Turk had been sent to Brussels by Quentin on a mission of
+considerable importance, arriving there soon after the body was
+discovered. He saw the woman's face at the morgue and recognized her
+as the one who had approached Quentin in the train for Paris. Turk
+learned that the police, to all appearances had found a clew, but
+had suddenly dropped the whole matter and the woman was classified
+with the "unknown dead." An attendant at the morgue carelessly
+remarked in his hearing that she was the mistress of a great man,
+who had sent them word to "throw her in the river." Secretly Turk
+assured himself that there was no mistake as to the house in which
+she had been found, and by putting two and two together, it was not
+unnatural to agree with the morgue officer and to supply for his own
+benefit the name of the royal lover. The newspapers which Turk
+brought from Brussels to Castle Craneycrow contained accounts of the
+murder of the beautiful woman, speculated wildly as to her idenity
+and termed the transaction a mystery as unsolvable as the great
+abduction. The same papers had the report, on good authority, that
+Miss Garrison had been murdered by her captors in a small town in
+Spain, the authorities being so hot on the trail that she was put
+out of the way for safety's sake.
+
+But the papers did not know that a bearded man named Turk had
+slipped a sealed envelope under a door at the Garrison home, and
+that a distressed mother had assurance from the brigand chief that
+her daughter was alive and well, but where she could not be found.
+To prove that the letter was no imposition, it was accompanied by a
+lock of hair from Dorothy's head, two or three bits of jewelry and a
+lace handkerchief that could not have belonged to another. Dorothy
+did not know how or when Baker secured these bits of evidence, When
+Quentin told her the chief object of Turk's perilous visit to
+Brussels, her eyes filled with tears, and for the first time she
+felt grateful to him.
+
+"I have a confession to make," she said, after the story was
+finished and the others had deliberately charged Ugo with the crime.
+"That poor woman came to me in Brussels and implored me to give up
+the prince. She told me, Phil, that she loved him and warned me to
+beware of him. And she said that he would kill her if he knew that
+she had come to me."
+
+"That settles it!" exclaimed he, excitedly, the fever of joy in his
+eyes. "He killed her when he found that she had been to you.
+Perhaps, goaded to desperation, she confessed to him. Imagine the
+devilish delight he took in sniffing out her life after that! We
+have him now! Dorothy, you know as well as I that he and he alone
+had an object in killing her. You have only to tell the story of her
+visit to you and we'll hang the miserable coward." He was standing
+before her, eager-eyed and intense.
+
+"You forget that I am not and do not for some time expect to be in a
+position to expose him. I am inclined to believe that the law will
+first require me to testify against you, Philip Quentin," she said,
+looking fairly into his eyes, the old resentment returning like a
+flash. Afterward she knew that the look of pain in his face touched
+her heart, but she did not know it then. She saw the beaten joy go
+out of his eyes, and she rejoiced in the victory.
+
+"True," he said, softly. "I have saved the woman I love, while he
+has merely killed one who loved him." It angered her unreasonably
+when, as he turned to enter the house, Lady Saxondale put her arm
+through his and whispered something in his ear. A moment or two
+later Lady Jane, as if unable to master the emotion which impelled,
+hurried into the castle after them. Dickey strolled away, and she
+was left with Lord Bob. It would have been a relief had he expressed
+the slightest sign of surprise or regret, but he was as
+imperturbable as the wall against which he leaned. His mild blue
+eyes gazed carelessly at the coils of smoke that blew from his lips.
+
+"Oh," she wailed to herself, in the impotence of anger, "they all
+love him, they all hate me! Why does he not mistreat me, insult me,
+taunt me--anything that will cost him their respect, their devotion!
+How bitterly they feel toward me for that remark! It will kill me to
+stay here and see them turn to him as if he were some god and I the
+defiler!"
+
+That night there was a battle between the desire to escape and the
+reluctance she felt in exposing her captors to danger. In the end
+she admitted to herself that she would not have Philip Quentin
+seized by the officers: she would give them all an equal chance to
+escape, he with the others. Her heart softened when she saw him, in
+her imagination, alone and beaten, in the hands of the police, led
+away to ignominy and death, the others perhaps safe through his
+loyalty. She would refuse absolutely, irrevocably, to divulge the
+names of her captors and would go so far as to perjure herself to
+save them if need be. With that charitable resolution in her heart
+she went to sleep.
+
+When she arose the next morning, Baker told her that Mr. Quentin was
+ill. His cold had settled on his lungs and he had a fever. Lady
+Saxondale seemed worried over the rather lugubrious report from
+Dickey Savage, who came downstairs early with Phil's apologies for
+not presenting himself at the breakfast table.
+
+While Quentin cheerfully declared that he would be himself before
+night, Dickey was in a doleful state of mind and ventured the
+opinion that he was "in for a rough spell of sickness." What
+distresed the Saxondales most was the dismal certainty that a doctor
+could not be called to the castle. If Quentin were to become
+seriously ill, the situation would develop into something extremely
+embarrassing.
+
+He insisted on coming downstairs about noon, and laughed at the
+remonstrances of Lord Bob and Dickey, who urged him to remain in bed
+for a day or two, at least. His cough was a cruel one, and his eyes
+were bright with the fever that raced through his system. The
+medicine chest offered its quinine and its plasters for his benefit,
+and there was in the air the tense anxiety that is felt when a child
+is ill and the outcome is in doubt. The friends of this strong,
+stubborn and all-important sick man could not conceal the fact that
+they were nervous and that they dreaded the probability of disaster
+in the shape of serious illness. His croaking laugh, his tearing
+cough and that flushed face caused Dorothy more pain than she was
+willing to admit, even to herself.
+
+As night drew near she quivered with excitement. Was she to leave
+the castle? Would the priest come for her? Above all, would he be
+accompanied by a force of officers large enough to storm the castle
+and overpower its inmates? What would the night bring forth? And
+what would be the stand, the course, taken by this defiant sick man,
+this man with two fevers in his blood?
+
+She had not seen or spoken to him during the day, but she had
+frequently passed by the door of the library in which he sat and
+talked with the other men. An irresistible longing to speak to him,
+to tell him how much she regretted his illness, came over her. There
+was in her heart a strange tenderness, a hungry desire to comfort
+him just the least bit before she took the flight that was to
+destroy the hope his daring and skillfully executed scheme had
+inspired.
+
+Three times she hesitated in front of the library door, but her
+courage was not as strong as her desire. Were he alone she could
+have gone in and told him frankly that she would not expose him to
+the law in the event that she ever had the opportunity. But the
+other men were with him. Besides, his cough was so distressing that
+natural pity for one suffering physical pain would have made it
+impossible to talk to him with the essential show of indifference.
+
+At last, in despair, she left Lady Saxondale and her companion in
+the courtyard and started up the stairs, resolved to be as far as
+possible from the sound of that cough. Quentin met her at the foot
+of the steps.
+
+"I'm going to lie down awhile," he said, wearily. "They seem to be
+worried about this confounded cold, and I'll satisfy them by packing
+myself away in bed."
+
+"You should be very careful, Phil," she said, a suffocating feeling
+in her throat. "Your cough is frightful, and they say you have a
+fever. Do be reasonable."
+
+"Dorothy," he said, pausing before her at the steps, his voice full
+of entreaty, "tell me you don't despise me. Oh! I long to have you
+say one tender word to me, to have one gentle look from your eyes."
+
+"I am very sorry you are suffering, Philip," she said, steeling her
+heart against the weakness that threatened.
+
+"Won't you believe I have done all this because I love you and----"
+he was saying, passionately, but she interposed.
+
+"Don't! Don't, Phil! I was forgetting a little--yes, I was
+forgetting a little, but you bring back all the ugly thoughts. I
+cannot forget and I will not forgive. You love me, I know, and you
+have been a kind jailer, but you must not expect to regain my
+respect and love--yes, it was love up to the morning I saw you in
+the dining-room of this castle."
+
+"I'll create a new love in your heart, Dorothy," he cried. "The old
+love may be dead, but a new one shall grow up in its place. You do
+not feel toward me to-day as you did a week ago. I have made some
+headway against the force of your hatred. It will take time to win
+completely; I would not have you succumb too soon. But, just as sure
+as there is a God, you will love me some day for the love that made
+me a criminal in the eyes of the world. I love you, Dorothy; I love
+you!"
+
+"It is too late. You have destroyed the power to love. Phil, I
+cannot forgive you. Could I love you unless full forgiveness paved
+the way?"
+
+"There is nothing to forgive, as you will some day confess. You will
+thank and forgive me for what I have done." A fit of coughing caused
+him to lean against the stair rail, a paroxysm of pain crossing his
+face as he sought to temper the violence of the spell.
+
+"You should have a doctor," she cried, in alarm. He smiled
+cheerlessly.
+
+"Send for the court physician," he said, derisively, "The king of
+evil-doers has the chills and fever, they say. Is my face hot
+Dorothy?"
+
+She hesitated for a moment, then impulsively placed her cool hand
+against his flushed forehead. Despite her will, there was a caress
+in the simple act, and his bright eyes gleamed with gladness. His
+hand met hers as it was lowered from the hot brow, and his lips
+touched the fingers softly.
+
+"Ah, the fever, the fever!" he exclaimed, passionately.
+
+"You should have a doctor," she muttered, as if powerless to frame
+other words.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII. THE FLIGHT WITH THE PRIEST
+
+
+Eleven o'clock that night found Castle Craneycrow wrapped in the
+stillness of death. Its inmates were awake, but they were petrified,
+paralyzed by the discovery that Dorothy Garrison was gone. Scared
+eyes looked upon white faces, and there was upon the heart of each
+the clutch of an icy hand. So appalling was the sensation that the
+five conspirators breathed not nor spoke, but listened for the
+heartbeats that had stopped when fears finally gave way to complete
+conviction. They were as if recovering from the fright of seeing a
+ghost; spirits seemed to have swept past them with cold wings,
+carrying off the prisoner they thought secure; only supernatural
+forces could be charged with the penetration of their impregnable
+wall.
+
+The discovery of the prisoner's flight was not made until Baker
+knocked on Lady Saxondale's door and inquired for Miss Garrison at
+bedtime. Then it was recalled that she had left the others at nine
+o'clock, pleading a headache, but she did not go to her room.
+Investigation revealed the fact that her jewelry, a cape and a
+traveling hat were missing. Remembering her first attempt to escape
+and recalling the very apparent nervousness that marked her demeanor
+during the day, Lady Saxondale alarmed the house.
+
+Ten minutes later the conspirators and a knot of sleepy servants
+stood in the courtyard, staring at the great gate. It was closed but
+unlocked. There were but two known keys to the big lock, and since
+the arrival of the party at the castle they had not been out of Lord
+Saxondale's possession. The girl could not have used either of them
+and the lock had not been forced; what wonder, then, that in the
+first moments of bewilderment they shrank back as if opposed by the
+supernatural?
+
+No one present had seen her leave the castle, and there was no way
+of telling how long she had been gone, except that it was not longer
+than two hours. After the first shock of realization, however, the
+men came to the conclusion that assistance had come from the
+outside, or that there was a traitor on the inside. They were
+excitedly questioning the long-trusted servants when Lady Jane made
+a second discovery.
+
+"Where is Turk?" she cried, and every eye swept through the group.
+
+"Gone, by God!" exclaimed Quentin, in helpless amazement. No one had
+given thought to his illness in the excitement of the moment. He had
+been called forth with the rest, and when he coughed not even he
+took note of the fact. This was no time to think of colds and fevers
+and such a trifling thing as death. He shivered, but it was not with
+the chill of a sick man; it was the shiver of fear.
+
+"Good Lord, he can't be the one! Turk would die for me!" he cried,
+almost piteously.
+
+"He is gone, and so is she," grated Lord Bob. "What are we to infer?
+He has sold us out, Quentin; that's the truth of it."
+
+"I'm damned!" almost wept Dickey Savage. "They'll have a pack of
+officers here before morning. I don't give a hoot for myself, but
+Lady Saxondale and--"
+
+"Great heaven! what have I brought you to in my folly?" groaned
+Quentin, covering his face with his hands.
+
+"Open the gate!" called a hoarse voice outside the wall, and every
+heart stopped beating, every face went white. A heavy boot crashed
+against the gate.
+
+"The officers!" whispered Lady Jane, in terror. Dickey Savage's arm
+went round her.
+
+"Let me in! Git a move on!'
+
+"It's Turk!" roared Quentin, springing toward the gate. An instant
+later Turk was sprawling inside the circle of light shed by the
+lantern, and a half-dozen voices were hurling questions at him.
+
+The little man was in a sorry plight. He was dirt-covered and
+bloody, and he was so full of blasphemy that he choked in
+suppressing it.
+
+"Where is she? Where have you been?" cried Quentin, shaking him
+violently in his agitation.
+
+"Gimme time, gimme time!" panted Turk. "I've got to git my breath,
+ain't I? She's flew th' coop, an' I couldn't head her off. Say, has
+a priest been loafin' aroun' here lately?"
+
+"A priest!" cried Lord Bob. "There hasn't been one here since Father
+Bivot came three years ago to--"
+
+"I mean this week, not t'ree years ago. She's gone with a priest,
+an' I'm nex' to who he is, too. He ain't no more priest 'n I am.
+It's that French detective, Courant, an' he's worked us to a
+fare-you-well. He's th' boy!"
+
+This startling news threw the party into deeper consternation than
+before. The little ex-burglar was not a fluent talker at best, but
+he now excelled himself in brevity. In three minutes he had
+concluded his story, and preparations were well under way for the
+pursuit.
+
+He was, according to his narrative, sitting in the lower end of the
+courtyard about nine o'clock, calmly smoking his pipe, when his
+attention was caught by the long, shrill call of a night bird. No
+such sound had come to his ears during his stay at the castle, and
+his curiosity was aroused. Not dreaming of what was to follow, he
+slowly walked toward the front of the castle. A woman stood in the
+shadow of the wall near the gate. Hardly had his eyes made out the
+dim figure when the whistle was repeated. Before he fully grasped
+the situation, the big gate swung slowly inward and another figure,
+at first glance that of a woman, stood inside the wall. He heard the
+woman call softly: "Is that you, Father?" A man's voice replied, but
+the words were too low to be distinguished. The woman drew back as
+if to return to the house, but the newcomer was at her side, and his
+hand was on her arm.
+
+There was a moment of indecision, then resistance, two or three
+sharp words from the man, and then the two seemed to fade through
+the wall. The ponderous gate was closing before the dumbfounded
+watcher could collect his wits. Like a shot he was across the
+stones, now alive to the meaning of the strange proceeding. With
+desperate hands he grasped the bar of the gate and pulled, uttering
+a loud shout of alarm at the same time. Surprised by the sudden
+interference, the man on the other side gave way and Turk was
+through the opening and upon him. A stunning blow on the head met
+him as he hurled himself forward, and he plunged headlong to the
+ground. As he struggled to his feet another blow fell, and then all
+was darkness.
+
+When he opened his eyes again two figures were careening down the
+steep path, a hundred yards away. They were running, and were
+plainly distinguishable in the moonlight. Turk knew that the woman
+was Dorothy Garrison. He had heard her cry, after the first blow,
+"Don't! Don't kill him, Father! It is Turk!" Crazed with anger and
+determined to recapture her single-handed, Turk neglected to call
+for help. With the blood streaming down his face, he dashed off in
+pursuit. There was in his heart the desire to kill the man who had
+struck him down. Near the foot of the hill he came up with them and
+he was like a wildcat.
+
+Miss Garrison had fallen to her knees and was moaning as if in pain.
+The priest crouched behind her, protecting his person from a
+possible shot from the pursuer. "For God's sake, don't shoot him!"
+screamed the girl, but a moment later there was a flash of light, a
+report, and a pistol ball whizzed by Turk's ear. He was unarmed, but
+he did not stop. Throwing himself forward, he stretched out his arms
+to grasp the crouching priest, hoping to prevent the firing of
+another shot. But he had not reckoned on the cleverness of the man
+at bay. The priest dropped flat to the ground and Turk plunged over
+his body, wildly clutching for the prostrate man as he went. With
+the cunning of a fox, the priest, on realizing that he could not
+avoid a personal conflict, had looked about for means to end the
+pursuit effectually.
+
+Retarded in his progress by the tired, trembling girl, he saw that a
+stand against the oncomer was unavoidable. He cleverly selected the
+spot for this stand, and braced himself as for the onslaught.
+Scarcely a yard beyond his position there was a sharp declivity
+among the rocks, with a clear drop of a dozen feet or more to the
+bottom of a wide crevasse. His shot went wild and he could not
+repeat it, for Dorothy was frantically clutching his arm. The
+strategem worked well, and he had the satisfaction of hearing a
+mighty oath as Turk, unable to check himself, slipped from the edge
+and went crashing to the rocks below.
+
+With the speed of a hunted animal, the priest leaped to his feet,
+dragging the girl after him, and a harsh laugh came from his throat
+as they dashed onward. A quick glance behind showed there had been
+but one pursuer, and the man in the robes of holiness chuckled
+exultantly. But, if Dorothy Garrison believed him to be the priest
+his robes declared, the moonlight told the fallen Turk the truth.
+Indeed, it was the intentness with which the little ex-burglar gazed
+upon the white face of Courant that prevented him from seeing the
+ledge as he dashed up to the couple.
+
+How long it was afterward that Turk came to his senses and crawled
+back to the roadway, dizzy, weak and defeated, he knew not. He could
+only groan and gnash his teeth when he stood erect again and saw
+that he was utterly alone. Courant and the girl were gone. In shame
+and humiliation he climbed the hill to call for help.
+
+Just as the searching party was about to rush recklessly from the
+courtyard, servants having been instructed to bring out the horses,
+Lady Jane espied a white piece of paper on the ground near the gate.
+And then it was that they read the parting message from the girl who
+was gone. With a trembling voice Lady Saxondale read:
+
+"I have found a way, and I am going, if nothing prevents. With the
+help of my good angel I shall soon be far from this place. A holy
+man in passing saw my signal of distress and promised rescue. You
+have been good to me, and I can only repay you by refusing to expose
+you. This priest does not know who you are. I shall not tell him or
+any who may be with him. No one shall ever know from me that you
+were my abductors. God grant that you may never have to pay the
+penalty. Go, while you may, for the truth may become known without
+my help, and I may not be able to save you. Save yourselves, all of
+you. I mean Philip Quentin, too, because I know he loves me.
+
+"Dorothy."
+
+Philip Quentin took the forlorn, even distressed, message from the
+hands of Lady Saxondale, kissed it devoutly, and placed it in his
+pocket.
+
+"Philip is too ill to go out on this desperate chase," cried Lady
+Saxondale.
+
+"Ill! I'll die if I am not gone from here in five minutes! Great
+Lord, Bob, those fools have been an hour getting the horses!"
+groaned Quentin, pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
+
+"Don't get excited, Phil; keep your head. You're not fit to be
+running about in a business like this, but all Christendom couldn't
+stop you. It may be a wild goose chase, after all," said Lord Bob.
+
+"She's been carried back to the accursed villain who employs
+Courant, and I'll die before I'll let him have her. Oh, what fools
+we've been!"
+
+"Here's a puzzler, old man," said Dickey. "Why was not Ugo here to
+help Courant if he knew anything about the fellow's actions? By
+cracky, I don't believe Ugo knows anything about the Frenchman's
+find."
+
+"He owns Courant, body and soul!"
+
+"That jacky is out for the hundred thousand francs, and he's working
+on his own hook this time, my boy. He's after the reward, and he's
+the only one that has been keen enough to find us out. Mark me, he
+is working alone.
+
+"Sure, he is," added Turk. "He's got no pardners in th' job, er he'd
+a' had em along to-night. S'pose he'd run into a gang like this
+alone if he had anybody t' fall back on? Not on your life. We're a
+mighty tough gang, an' he takes no chances with us if he's workin'
+fer anybody else."
+
+"We're not a tough gang!" wailed Lady Jane, in tears. "Oh, what will
+become of us!"
+
+"The Lord only knows, if we fail to get both Dorothy and Courant,"
+said Quentin, in real anguish.
+
+"They may be in Luxemburg by this time," said Saxondale. "Gad, this
+is working in the dark!"
+
+"That road down there don't go t' Luxemburg direct, m' lord,"
+quickly interposed Turk. "It goes off into th' hills, don't you
+remember? An' then out th' valley some place 'way to th' north. If
+he'd been goin' to th' city he'd 'a' taken th' road back here an'
+kep' from goin' down th' hill."
+
+"You're right, Turk," exclaimed Lord Bob. "He has gone up the
+valley, headed for one of the little towns, and will steer clear of
+the Luxemburg officers for fear they may demand a part of the
+reward."
+
+"God, Saxondale, are those horses never coming?" fumed Quentin. "I
+won't wait!" and he was off like a madman through the gate and down
+the steep. Behind him tore Turk, the faithful.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII. THE GAME OF THE PRIEST
+
+
+When Turk pitched over the crouching form of the priest and into the
+dark chasm beyond Dorothy for the first time began to appreciate the
+character of her cowled rescuer. Panting and terrified, she looked
+into his hideously exultant face as he rose and peered over the
+ledge after the luckless pursuer. It was not the face of a holy man
+of God, but that of a creature who could laugh in the taking of a
+human life.
+
+"Come on!" he cried, grasping her by the wrist with no gentle
+regard. "He's out of the way, but we have no time to lose. The
+others may miss you at any moment, and we must be in the wood if we
+hope to fool them."
+
+"I have changed my mind--" she began, holding back as he dragged her
+after him down the slope.
+
+"It is too late," he said, harshly. "You will soon be with your
+friends, my child. Do not lose heart, but trust to me."
+
+"Who are you? You are not a priest. Why have you disguised
+yourself--"
+
+"Not so loud, my child, not so loud! They may have guards even here.
+If I am not a priest, then may heaven shut its gates on me forever.
+Because I am a man and have undone one of your enemies, you should
+not question my calling. It is no time for prayer. When we are safe
+from pursuit, you will regret the doubt you have just expressed.
+Trust to me, my child. But run, for God's sake, run! Don't hang back
+when all depends on our speed in the next half-hour."
+
+"Where are you taking me? Answer, or I shall refuse to go another
+step with you!" she exclaimed, now thoroughly aroused and
+determined.
+
+"My wagon is hitched in the wood over there. In it we will go to a
+town up the valley, where I have the promise of help. I could have
+brought a big force of men with me, but don't you see what a mistake
+it would have been? Rather than surrender you to a force they would
+have killed you and secreted your body in the passages under the
+castle. It is commonly known that the cellars are paved with
+skeletons." Here Dorothy shuddered in recollection. "Strategy was
+the only means of getting you out safely."
+
+"They would not have killed me," she cried, breathlessly. They were
+moving rapidly along the level roadway now, and his grip on her
+wrist was like a clasp of iron.
+
+"To save themselves? Of course, they would--as they would a dog!" he
+said.
+
+"They are my friends, and they are the best, the truest in the
+world," she gasped, eager to keep the promise of protection made in
+the farewell note.
+
+"You think they are, madam, but how could they treat you as they
+have if they are friends?" He had turned into the wood, and it was
+necessary to proceed more cautiously on account of the darkness. She
+realized that she had erred in saying they were friends, and turned
+cold with apprehension.
+
+"I mean, they treated me well--for criminals," she managed to say.
+
+"Criminals!" he snarled. "Bah! Of course they are criminals of the
+worst kind, but they will never be punished."
+
+"I'm afraid they are so clever that no one will ever find out who
+they really are."
+
+He stopped with a lurch, and she could feel that he was looking at
+her in amazement.
+
+"I know who they are, and you know them, too," he said, slowly.
+"Perhaps nobody else knows, but we know that my Lord and Lady
+Saxondale and the two Americans were your abductors. The man I
+dumped into the ravine was that little villain Turk."
+
+Her heart almost stopped beating with the shock of knowing that
+nothing could now shield her captors from exposure.
+
+"But--but it will be very hard to prove," she said, hoarsely, almost
+defiantly.
+
+"You have only to take oath," he said, meaningly.
+
+"I don't know the name or face of a person in that castle," she
+said, deliberately. He was silent for a full minute.
+
+"You intend to shield them?" he demanded. There was no answer to the
+question. Now she was positive that the man was no priest, but some
+one who knew the world and who had made it his business to trace her
+and her captors to the very gates of the castle. If he knew, then
+others must also be in possession of the secret.
+
+"Who are you?" she demanded, as he drew her deeper into the wood.
+There was now the wild desire to escape from her rescuer and to fly
+back to the kindly jailers on the hill.
+
+"A poor priest, by the grace of God," he said, and she heard him
+chuckle.
+
+"Take me back to the road, sir!" she commanded.
+
+"I will take you to your mother," he said, "and to no one else."
+
+"But I am afraid of you," she exclaimed, her courage going. "I don't
+know you--I don't know where you are taking me."
+
+"We will not go far to-night. I know a place where you can hide
+until I secure help from the city."
+
+"But you said you had a wagon."
+
+"The horse must have strayed away, worse luck!" said he, with a
+raucous laugh.
+
+She broke from his grasp suddenly, and like a frightened deer was
+off through the darkness knowing not whither she went or what moment
+she might crash against a tree. The flight was a short one. She
+heard him curse savagely as he leaped upon her from behind after a
+chase of a few rods, and then she swooned dead away.
+
+When she regained consciousness a faint glow of light met her eyes
+as the lids feebly lifted themselves from their torpor. Gradually
+there came to her nostrils a dank, musty odor and then the smell of
+tobacco smoke. She was lying on her back, and her eyes at last began
+to take in broad rafters and cobwebby timbers not far above her
+head. The light was so dim that shadows and not real objects seemed
+to constitute the surroundings. Then there grew the certainty that
+she was not alone in this dismal place. Turning her head slightly,
+she was able, with some effort, to distinguish the figure of a man
+seated on the opposite side of the low, square room, his back
+against the wall, his legs outstretched. At his elbow, on a box,
+burned a candle, flickering and feeble in its worthlessness. He was
+smoking a pipe, and there was about him an air of contentment and
+security.
+
+Slowly past events crowded themselves into the path of memory, and
+her brain took them up as if they were parts of a dream. For many
+minutes she was perfectly quiet, dumbly contemplating the stranger
+who sat guard over her in that wretched place. In her mind there was
+quickly developed, as one brings the picture from the film of a
+negative the truth of the situation. She had escaped from one set of
+captors only to give herself into the clutches of others a thousand
+times more detestable, infinitely more evil-hearted.
+
+"You've come back to life, have you?"
+
+She started violently and shivered as with a mighty chill at the
+sound of these words. They came from the slouching smoker.
+
+"Where am I?" she cried, sitting up, a dizzy whirling in her head.
+Her bed was no more than a heavy piece of old carpet.
+
+"In the house of your friends," laconically responded the voice, now
+quite familiar. Her eyes swept the room in search of the priest. His
+robes lay in a heap across her feet. "Where is Father Paul?" she
+demanded. "He is no more," said the man, in sombre tones. "I was he
+until an hour ago."
+
+"And you are no priest? Ah, God help me, what have I done? What have
+I come to in my miserable folly?" she cried, covering her face with
+her hands.
+
+"Look here, Miss Garrison," said the man, quietly. "I am no priest,
+but you have nothing to fear because of that fact. The truth is, I
+am a detective. For a month I was in the employ of Prince Ravorelli,
+and it was no honest business, I can tell you. What I have done
+to-night is straight and honest. I mean you no harm, and you have
+but to follow my instructions in order to find yourself safe in
+Brussels once more. I have been interested in a number of queer
+transactions but let me say this in my own defence: I was never
+employed in any game so detestable, so low, as the one your noble
+prince was playing when you were snatched away from him. The only
+regret I have in taking you back to your mother comes from the fear
+that you may go ahead and marry that knave."
+
+Dorothy was listening, with wide eyes and bated breath, to the words
+of the lounging smoker.
+
+"I will never, never marry him," she cried, vehemently.
+
+"Stick to that resolve, my child," said Courant, with mock
+benevolence. "He is a scoundrel, and I cut loose from him to do this
+little job down here on my own responsibility."
+
+"Tell me, if you know, did he plan to kill Mr. Quentin? I must have
+the truth," she cried, eagerly.
+
+"He did worse than that. He made the attempt, or rather his agents
+did. You see, Quentin was a dangerous rival because he knew too
+much."
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"Well, he knew all about the prince when he was with the opera
+company in Brazil. I can't tell you much about it, but there was a
+murder committed over there and your prince was believed to be
+guilty. A woman was killed, I believe. Quentin knew all about it, it
+seems."
+
+"And never told me?" she cried.
+
+"He was not positive, I suppose. There was the danger of being
+mistaken, and this American friend of yours seems honest. He only
+told you what he knew to be a fact, I conclude."
+
+"Yesterday I heard that a woman had been murdered in Brussels, a
+woman who came to warn me against the prince. Do you know who killed
+her?"
+
+"Good God! Has she been killed? Ah, I knew it would come; he was
+obliged to get rid of her. I did not know of her death, but I leave
+you to guess who was responsible for it. God, he is a devil! You owe
+a great deal, Mademoiselle, to the clever men who stole you from
+him."
+
+"Alas, I am beginning to know it, now that it is too late. And he
+was ill when I stole away to-night. I implore you, take me back to
+the castle!" she pleaded, her heart wrung by the anguish in her
+soul.
+
+"So he is in the castle, eh? Just as I thought. I'd like to take you
+to him, especially as he is ill, but I must take care of number one.
+When I dropped out of one villain's employment I went into business
+for myself. You see, there is about 100,000 francs reward for you,
+and there is the same for the bodies of the abductors. If I turn you
+over to your mother or her agents--not the prince, by the way--I
+earn the reward. If I can procure the arrest of your abductors I get
+double the amount. You see how unbusiness-like it would be if I were
+to let my sympathies get the better of me."
+
+"But I will give you 100,000 francs if you will take me back to the
+castle," she cried, standing before him.
+
+"Have you the money with you?"
+
+"Of course I have not, but it shall be yours as soon as I can--"
+
+"Pardon. You are worth nothing to me in that castle, and you will
+bring a fortune in Brussels."
+
+In vain she pleaded with the stubborn detective, finally threatening
+him with dire punishment if he refused to accede to her demands.
+Then he arose in sudden wrath, cursing her roundly and vowing she
+should not leave the room alive if she persisted in such threats. He
+told her that she was in a cave beneath the ruins of an old church,
+long the haunt of robbers, now the home of snakes and bats. Indeed,
+as he spoke a flittermouse scurried through the air within a foot of
+her ear.
+
+"We rest here until to-morrow night, and then we start out to walk.
+You cannot be seen in that dress, either. I have clothing here in
+this box for you to wear. My dear young lady, you must make believe
+that you are my younger brother for a day or two, at least."
+
+A look of horror came into her face, succeeded by the deep red of
+insulted modesty, and then the white of indignation.
+
+"I will die first, you wretch!" she exclaimed. In that moment she
+believed she could have killed the smiling rogue with her own hands.
+
+"We shall see," he said, roughly. "Look at them; they are
+respectable in cut and they are clean." He drew the garments from
+the box, piece by piece, and held them before her flaming face. "I'm
+going out to take a look about the valley. You are quite safe here.
+No one knows where you are, and the robbers have been dead for
+twenty years. One of them still has his skeleton in the room just
+off this one, but he is a harmless old fellow. In an hour I will
+return, and we will eat. It is now three o'clock, and the sun will
+soon be rising. To-night we venture forth as brothers, remember."
+
+He pulled his cap down over his eyes, buttoned his coat about his
+throat, changed a revolver from one pocket to another, and
+deliberately stalked across the room to the narrow door. An instant
+later she heard the key rasp in the lock and she was alone.
+
+"Oh, heaven, if Philip Quentin could see me now! If he could but
+hear my sobs and see my tears! How he would rejoice, how he would
+laugh, how he would pity me. This is your triumph, Philip Quentin,
+but you are not here to claim the wretched victory. Fool! Fool!
+Fool!"
+
+She had thrown herself face downward on the patch of carpet and was
+writhing in the agony of fear and regret. Suddenly there came to her
+ears the distant report of a firearm, the rush of feet and then
+something heavy crashed against the little door. She was on her feet
+in an instant, cowering in the far corner of the room, her face
+among the cobwebs. Panic seized her, and she screamed aloud in her
+terror. Outside the door there were sounds of a savage struggle, but
+they rapidly became indistinct, and finally passed beyond hearing
+altogether. She ran to the door and pounded on it with hands that
+knew not the bruises they were acquiring, and she moaned in the fear
+that the rescuers, for such they surely must be, were leaving her
+behind.
+
+"Phil! Phil!" she cried again and again. But there suddenly came to
+her a terrifying thought, and she fell back, cold and voiceless.
+Ugo! What if he had at last run the treacherous Courant to earth?
+What if the rescuer were he?
+
+She slunk away from the door, the dampness of dread sending a chill
+to her heart. And when again the rush of footsteps brought a heavy
+body against the door, she had not the voice to cry out, so sure was
+she that Ugo Ravorelli was coming to her in that dismal hole.
+
+Then the door gave way, and Philip Quentin came plunging into the
+room, hatless, coatless, his shirt in shreds. The mighty draft of
+air from the open door killed the sickly candle-flame, but not
+before they had seen each other. For the second time that night she
+lost consciousness.
+
+At the bottom of a deep ravine lay the body of Courant. He had fled
+from before the two adversaries after a vain attempt to reenter the
+room below the church and had blindly dashed over the cliff. Turk,
+with more charity than Courant had shown not many hours before,
+climbed down the dangerous steep, and, in horror, touched his
+quivering hand. Then came the last gasp.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX. DOROTHY'S SOLUTION
+
+
+Quentin carried her forth into the night. When Turk came upon him in
+the darkness a few minutes later, he was wandering about the
+hilltop, the limp figure of the woman he loved in his arms, calling
+upon her to speak to him, to forgive him. The little man checked him
+just in time to prevent an ugly fall over a steep embankment.
+
+"My God, she's dead, Turk!" he groaned, placing her tenderly on the
+grassy sward and supporting her head with his arm. "The wretch has
+killed her."
+
+"He's paid for it, if he did. I guess it's nothin' but a faint er a
+fit. Does she have fits?" demanded Turk, earnestly. Quentin paid no
+heed to him, but feverishly began working with her, hope springing
+from Turk's surmise.
+
+"Turk, if she dies, I swear to God I'll kill myself this night!"
+cried he.
+
+"You're talkin' crazy, sir. She's comin' around all right, all
+right. Hear that? Her eyes'll be busy in a minute, and she'll be
+askin' where she's at. Just keeled over, that's all. All women does
+that w'en they git's as glad as she wuz. They faint 'cause it's
+easier'n it is to tell how much obliged they are. I know 'em. They
+pass up hard jobs like that ontil they gits time t' look all pale
+an' interestin' an' tuckered-out, an' then they ain't no use sayin'
+much obliged, 'cause th' man won't stand fer it a minute."
+
+Turk was kneeling opposite Quentin and was scratching match after
+match, holding them above the pale face until they burnt his finger
+tips. When Dorothy at last opened her eyes she looked into the most
+terrifying face she had ever seen, and, as the lids closed again
+spasmodically, a moan came from her lips. Turk's bristled face was
+covered with blood that had dried hours ago, and he was a most
+uncanny object to look upon. "Darn me, she's askeert of my mug! I'll
+duck ontil you puts her nex'."
+
+"Look up Dorothy! It is Phil! Don't be afraid, dearest; you are
+safe!" He knew that her eyes were open again, although it was too
+dark to see them.
+
+"Is it you, Phil?" she whispered.
+
+"Yes, yes!"
+
+"Where is--where is he?" in terror.
+
+"He cannot harm you now. He is gone."
+
+"But I saw his face just now. Oh, you are not telling me the truth!"
+
+"You saw Turk's face, dearest. What a time we had in finding you!
+But you are safe now, thank God!"
+
+She lay very still, striving to convince herself that she was awake
+and that she was really listening to Philip Quentin's voice, hoarse
+and eager. Her hand went to his face, impulsively searching for the
+features her eyes could not see. Strong ringers seized it, and dry,
+burning lips kissed it again and again--lips parched with fever. The
+heart of the woman asserted itself at once, and concern succeeded
+perplexity.
+
+"Oh, Phil, you are ill--you should not be here!" she cried, in
+distress, and, before he could prevent she was on her feet, swaying
+dizzily.
+
+"Then you are not hurt!" he cried. "Thank God for that!" His arm was
+about her waist, and a wave of security and contentment rolled
+through her being.
+
+"Take me back to the castle, Phil," she said, simply. "You will
+never know how unhappy I have been, how I have blamed myself for
+running away as I did. But, oh, I thought he was a priest, and I
+wanted to prove that you could not keep me there."
+
+"You do not have to stay there, Dorothy," he said, slowly.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I have been a fool, an ingrate, a brute, but I will atone if it is
+possible. In your note you said you would forgive the others. I
+don't ask pardon for myself, but I implore you to shield them.
+Perhaps it is too late; this detective has exposed us--"
+
+"He swore to me that he had not, but he knows everything, and may
+carry the word to the authorities," she interrupted, in distress.
+
+"The secret is safe if he worked alone, for he is dead. Don't be
+frightened; he fell over a cliff in the darkness. Turk!"
+
+"Here, sir."
+
+"We must get back to the castle as soon as possible. It is five
+miles, at least. Try to find a trap of some sort at once. Miss
+Garrison cannot walk that distance."
+
+"But I can and will," she objected. "I am not hurt and I am stronger
+than you."
+
+"Nonsense! I'm all right. I will return with you to Brussels
+to-morrow. Your imprisonment is at an end. There is no need for you
+to think again of escape, for you are free to go at this moment.
+Come back to Lady Saxondale for a while, though, and when you are
+able to go with me we will take the train for Brussels. Believe me,
+I am sorry, but I am not fool enough to ask you to forgive. I don't
+deserve pardon, perhaps, but I know that my heart was in the right
+and that I saved you from a much worse bondage than that which you
+have spent in Castle Craneycrow."
+
+As if in a dream, she walked with him through the first faint light
+of the dawning day, stunned by the unexpected words he had uttered.
+In her mind there began to grow, rebelliously, the fear that he
+would do as he said! Turk, following close behind, suddenly gave a
+loud shout and sped away like a flash in front of them.
+
+"It's Mr. Savage," he yelled back to the startled couple, "an' he's
+on horseback! Hi, there!"
+
+As Dickey Savage came plunging up the slope, roaring with excited
+joy, she said to Ouentin, her voice low and intense:
+
+"I know now that you saved me from a worse fate than death, Phil,
+and, if you ask, I will forgive as I hope you will forgive me.
+Courant was Ugo's tool, and I had the truth from him. You are the
+truest, the best of friends, and I should--"
+
+"Stop, Dorothy! Not now, some day, when you are home, after you have
+had time to think over all that I have done, right and wrong, I may
+come to you with the question I will not ask now. What I have sinned
+for, if you want to call it that, I will sue for some other day when
+the world is looking on. I will not make my prisoner pay penalty
+without a trial."
+
+"I want you to know that I do not hate you," she argued,
+persistently.
+
+"But you hated me yesterday."
+
+"I did not."
+
+Just then Dickey pounced upon them, and, as they hurried to the spot
+where Turk was holding the newcomer's horse, Phil briefly told how
+he and the little ex-burglar had accidentally stumbled upon the
+hiding-place of the pseudo priest after hours of hopeless search.
+The two pursuers, tired and despairing, were lying on the ground in
+front of the church ruins, taking a few moments of rest before
+climbing to the summit of the hill, when the luckless Courant
+ventured forth. With quick intuition, Turk called out the
+detective's name, and the ruse worked. The man they could not see
+gave a snort of dismay and turned to reenter the door. And then came
+his undoing.
+
+Turk was the general who planned the return to the castle. He
+insisted that Quentin, who was very weak, take Miss Garrison upon
+the horse's back and ride, while he and Savage walked. In this way
+they reached the gates of Craneycrow. It was like the home-coming of
+loved ones who had been absent for years. Three women were in tears,
+and all of the men were in smiles. Quentin's was the smile of one
+bordering on delirium, however. A chill broke over him, and the
+fever in his body renewed its disputed sway. An hour later he was in
+bed, and Turk, dispatched by Dorothy Garrison, was riding to the
+nearest town for a physician, much against the wishes of the sick
+man. He stubbornly insisted that he would start with her for
+Brussels within twenty-four hours, and it was not until the doctor
+told him that he was in extreme danger of pneumonia that he
+consented to keep to his bed.
+
+Resolutely he checked all desire to cry his love into the ear of the
+gentle nurse who sat with him for hours. He would not grant himself
+the slightest deviation from the course he had sworn to follow, and
+he suffered more from restraint than from fever. She found herself
+longing for the moment when he would call her to him and pour out
+the love that would not be denied. He never spoke but she hoped for
+signs of surrender; he never looked at her that she did not expect
+his lips to utter the story his eyes were telling, What he endured
+in that week of fever, under the strain of love's nursing, only he
+could have told--and he told nothing. How she hungered for the
+luxury of one word, only she knew--and confessed unconsciously.
+
+Had the doctor told her that he was critically ill, she would have
+cast all restraint aside and wrung from him the words he was holding
+back. But the unromantic little doctor calmly broke the fever,
+subdued the congestion, relieved the cough and told them that the
+"young man would be quite well in a few days if he took good care of
+himself."
+
+The days of convalescence were few, for the vigorous strength of the
+patient had not been sapped to any great extent. They were days of
+happiness, however, for all who lived in Castle Craneycrow. Dickey
+and Lady Jane solemnly and somewhat defiantly approached Lord Bob on
+a very important matter. He solemnly and discreetly gave his
+consent, and Dickey promised to be very, very good to her so long as
+he lived. One day a real priest, Father Bivot, came to the castle
+gates to solicit alms for the poor of the neighborhood. He was
+admitted, refreshed and made glad by a single donation that
+surpassed in size the combined contributions of a whole valley. It
+was from him that they learned, with no little uneasiness of mind,
+that the body of Courant had been found, and that it had been
+identified by the Luxemburg authorities. The cause of his death was
+a mystery that defied solution, however.
+
+The news that Courant had been found and identified made Quentin all
+the more eager to carry out his design to restore Dorothy to her
+mother. He knew, and all knew, that it was but a question of a few
+days until Ugo and the police would put two and two together and
+come racing into the valley, certain that Courant had been killed by
+the abductors of Dorothy Garrison.
+
+One morning, therefore, shortly after the visit of Father Bivot, he
+asked Lord Saxondale for the use of a conveyance, announcing his
+intention to drive with Dorothy to the nearest railway station.
+There was dismay in the heart of everyone who sat at what had been a
+cheerful breakfast table. Quentin deliberately went on to say that
+he would take no lackey, preferring to expose none but himself in
+the undertaking.
+
+"Can you be ready in an hour, Dorothy?" he asked, after Saxondale
+had reluctantly consented.
+
+"Do you insist on carrying out this Quixotic plan, Phil?" she asked,
+after a long pause.
+
+"Positively."
+
+"Then, I can be ready in half an hour," she said, leaving the table
+abruptly.
+
+"Confound it, Phil; she'd rather stay here," said Dickey, miserably.
+
+"I intend to restore her to her mother, just the same. There's no
+use discussing it, Dickey. If they don't throw me into jail at
+Brussels, I may return in a day or two."
+
+There was a faint flush in Dorothy's cheeks as she bade good-bye to
+the party. Lady Saxondale sagely remarked, as the trap rolled out of
+sight among the trees below the castle, that the flush was product
+of resentment, and Dickey offered to wager £20 that she would be an
+engaged girl before she reached Brussels.
+
+"Do you know the road, Phil?" asked Dorothy, after they had gone
+quite a distance in silence. She looked back as she spoke, and her
+eyes uttered a mute farewell to the grim old pile of stone on the
+crest of the hill.
+
+"Father Bivot gave me minute directions yesterday, and I can't miss
+the way. It's rather a long drive, Dorothy, and a tiresome one for
+you, perhaps. But the scenery is pretty and the shade of the forest
+will make us think we are again in the Bois de la Cambre.
+
+"If I were you, I would not go to Brussels," she said, after another
+long period of silence, in which she painfully sought for means to
+dissuade him from entering the city. She was thinking of the big
+reward for his capture and of the greedy officials who could not be
+denied.
+
+"Do you think I am afraid of the consequences?" he asked, bitterly.
+She looked at the white face and the set jaws and despaired.
+
+"You are not afraid, of course, but why should you be foolhardy? Why
+not put me in the coach for Brussels and avoid the risk of being
+seized by the police? I can travel alone. If you are taken, how can
+you or I explain?" she went on, eagerly.
+
+"You have promised to shield the rest," he said, briefly.
+
+"I know, but I want to shield you. Haven't I told you that I forgive
+everything? Don't make me unhappy, Phil. It would kill me now if you
+were to fall into the hands of the police. They are crazy to catch
+my abductors, and don't you remember what the paper said? It said
+the people would kill without mercy. Please, Phil, for my sake,
+don't go to Brussels. It is so unnecessary and so hazardous."
+
+"Pray, tell me what explanation you could give to your mother, to
+the police, to the newspapers, if you suddenly appeared in Brussels,
+safe and sound, and yet unable to tell who had been your captors or
+where you have been held?" he grimly said.
+
+"I would not offer an explanation," she said, decisively, as if that
+settled everything.
+
+"But you would be compelled to make some statement, my dear girl.
+You couldn't drop in there as if from the sky and not tell where you
+have been and with whom. The truth would be demanded, and you could
+not refuse. What would the world, your mother, the prince, think--"
+
+"Don't mention that man's name to me," she cried.
+
+"Well, what would be the natural conclusion if you refused to give
+an explanation? Don't you see that the papers would make a sensation
+of the matter? There is no telling what they would say about you.
+The world would jump at the scandal bait, and you would be the most
+notorious of women, to be perfectly plain with you. If you refuse to
+expose the people who abducted you, there could be but one
+inference. It would simply mean that you were a party to the plot
+and fled to evade the wedding at St. Gudule's. Upon whom would
+suspicion fall? Upon the man who was supposed to have sailed for New
+York, and upon his friends. Where have you been during the last few
+weeks? If you did not answer, the world would grin and say, 'In New
+York, and of her own volition!' Don't you see, Dorothy, there is but
+one way to end this horrible mistake of mine? Only one way to
+protect you from humiliation, even degradation?"
+
+"You mean by--" she began, faintly, afraid to complete the dreaded
+surmise.
+
+"By the surrender of the real criminal," he said, calmly.
+
+"I will not agree to that!" she cried, imperatively. "If you give
+yourself up to them, Philip Quentin, I will deny every word of your
+confession," she went on, triumphantly.
+
+"I'm afraid they would doubt you," he responded, but his heart
+leaped gladly.
+
+"And do you know what else I shall do if you persist? I'll tell the
+world that you were not alone in this affair, and I'll send the
+officers to Castle Craneycrow to arrest every--" she was crying
+hysterically, when he interrupted.
+
+"But you have promised to shield them!"
+
+"Promised! I will forget that I ever made a promise. Philip Quentin,
+either I go to Brussels alone or every person in Craneycrow goes to
+prison with you. I'll not spare one of them. Promise? What do I care
+for that promise? Do as you like, Phil, but I mean every word of
+it!"
+
+"You wouldn't dare, Dorothy, you wouldn't dare!" he cried,
+imploringly. "They are not to blame. I am the guilty one. They are
+not--"
+
+"One way or the other, Phil!" she cried, firmly. "It is safety for
+all or disgrace for all. Now, will you go to Brussels?"
+
+"But, my heavens, how can you explain to the world?" he cried, in
+deepest distress.
+
+"I have thought of all that. Providence gave me the solution," she
+said, her face beaming with the joy of victory.
+
+"Not even Providence can supply an explanation," he groaned.
+
+"You forget Courant, the dead man. He cannot deny the charge if I
+conclude to accuse him of the crime. He is the solution!"
+
+
+
+
+XXX. LOVE IS BLIND
+
+
+"But Ugo can disprove it," he said, after a moment's thought.
+
+"Only by confessing his own duplicity," she said, tranquilly.
+
+"You will not marry him, Dorothy?"
+
+She looked him full in the eyes, and no word could have answered
+plainer than the disdain which swept across her lovely face.
+
+"What do you think of me, Phil?" she asked, in hurt tones, and he
+answered with his eyes because he could not trust his voice.
+
+The longing to throw her arms about the man whose burning eyes had
+set her heart afire was almost uncontrollable; the hope that he
+would throw off restraint and cry out his love, drove her timidly
+into silent expectancy. His whole soul surged to his lips and eyes,
+but he fought back the words that would have made them both so
+happy. He knew she loved him; the faintest whisper from him would
+cause her lips to breathe the passion her eyes revealed. And yet he
+was strong enough to bide his time.
+
+How long this exquisite communion of thoughts lasted neither knew
+nor cared. Through the leafy wood they drove, in utter silence, both
+understanding, both revealing, both waiting. He dared not look at
+the glorious, love-lit face, he dared not speak to her, he dared not
+tempt the heart that might betray his head. It was he who at last
+broke that joyous calm, and his voice was husky with suppressed
+emotion.
+
+"You will not forget that some day I am coming to you as Phil
+Quentin and not in the mask of a bandit."
+
+"I shall expect you, robber, to appear before a certain tribunal
+and there explain, if you can, what led you to commit the crime that
+has shocked the world," she said, brightly.
+
+"I implore the leniency of the high court," he said, tenderly.
+
+"The court can only put you on probation and exact the promise that
+you will never steal another girl."
+
+"And the length of probation?"
+
+"For all your natural life," demurely.
+
+"Then I must appeal to a higher court," he said, soberly.
+
+"What?" she cried. "Do you object to the judgment?"
+
+"Not at all," he said, earnestly. "I will merely appeal to the
+higher court for permission to live forever." Both laughed with the
+buoyancy that comes from suppressed delight. "It occurs to me,
+Dorothy," said he, a few minutes later, "that we are a long time in
+reaching the town Father Bivot told me about. We seem to be in the
+wilds, and he said there were a number of houses within five miles
+of Craneycrow. Have we passed a single habitation?"
+
+"I have not seen one, but I'm sorry the time seems long," she said.
+
+"I wonder if we have lost the way," he went on, a troubled
+expression in his eyes. "This certainly isn't a highway, and he said
+we would come to one within three miles of the castle. See; it is
+eleven o'clock, and we have been driving for more than two hours at
+a pretty fair gait. By the eternal, Dorothy, we may be lost!"
+
+"How delightful!" she cried, her eyes sparkling.
+
+"I don't believe you care," he exclaimed, in surprise.
+
+"I should have said how frightful," she corrected, contritely.
+
+"This isn't getting you on a train, by any manner of means," he
+said. "Could I have misunderstood the directions he gave?" He was
+really disturbed.
+
+"And the poor horse seems so tired, too," she said, serenely.
+
+"By Jove! Didn't we cross a stream an hour or so ago?" he cried.
+
+"A horrid, splashy little stream? We crossed it long ago."
+
+"Well, we shouldn't have crossed it," he said, ruefully. "I should
+have turned up the hill over the creek road. We're miles out of the
+way, Dorothy."
+
+"What shall we do?" she asked, with a brave show of dismay.
+
+"I don't know. We're in a deuce of a pickle, don't you see?" he
+said.
+
+"I can't say that I do see," she said. "Can't we drive back to the
+creek?"
+
+"We could if I could turn the confounded trap about. But how, in the
+name of heaven, can I turn on a road that isn't wide enough for two
+bicycles to pass in safety? Steep, unclimable hill on our left, deep
+ravine on our right."
+
+"And a narrow bit of a road ahead of us," she said. "It looks very
+much as if the crooked and narrow path is the best this time."
+
+That narrow road seemed to have no end and it never widened. The
+driving at last became dangerous, and they realized that the tired
+horse was drawing them up a long, gradual slope. The way became
+steeper, and the road rough with rocks and ruts. Her composure was
+rapidly deserting her, and he was the picture of impatience.
+
+"If we should meet anyone else driving, what would happen?" she
+asked, fearfully.
+
+"We won't meet anyone," he answered. "Nobody but a mountain goat
+would wittingly venture up this road. This poor old nag is almost
+dead. This is a pretty mess! How do you like the way I'm taking you
+to the train?"
+
+"Is this another abduction?" she asked, sweetly, and both laughed
+merrily, in spite of their predicament. His haggard face, still
+showing the effects of illness, grew more and more troubled, and at
+last he said they would have to get down from the trap, not only to
+avoid the danger of tipping over the cliff, but to relieve the
+horse. In this sorry fashion they plodded along, now far above the
+forest, and in the cool air of the hilltops.
+
+"There certainly must be a top to this accursed hill," he panted. He
+was leading the horse by the bit, and she was bravely trudging at
+his side.
+
+"There is a bend in the road up yonder, Phil," she said.
+
+When they turned the bend in the tortuous mountain road, both drew
+up sharply, with a gasp of astonishment. For a long time neither
+spoke, their bewildered minds struggling to comprehend the vast
+puzzle that confronted them. Even the fagged horse pricked up his
+ears and looked ahead with interest. Not three hundred yards beyond
+the bend stood the ruins of an enormous castle.
+
+"It is Craneycrow!" gasped the man, leaning dizzily against the
+shaft of the trap. She could only look at him in mute consternation.
+It was Craneycrow, beyond all doubt, but what supernatural power had
+transferred it bodily from the squarrose hill on which it had stood
+for centuries, to the spot it now occupied, grim and almost
+grinning? "Is this a dream, Dorothy? Are we really back again?"
+
+"I can't believe it," she murmured. "We must be deceived by a
+strange resem--"
+
+"There is Bob himself! Good heavens, this paralyzes me! Hey, Bob!
+Bob!"
+
+A few minutes later a limping horse dragged his bones into the
+courtyard and two shame faced travelers stood before a taunting
+quartet, enduring their laughter, wincing under their jests,
+blushing like children when the shots went home. For hours they had
+driven in a circle, rounding the great row of hills, at last coming
+to the very gate from which they had started forth so confidently.
+They were tired and hungry and nervous.
+
+"Did you telegraph your mother you were coming?" asked Dickey
+Savage.
+
+"We did not even see a telegraph wire," answered Dorothy, dismally.
+
+"What did you see?" he asked, maliciously,
+
+"You should not ask confusing questions, Richard," reprimanded Lady
+Jane, with mock severity.
+
+"Well, we'll try it over again to-morrow," decided Quentin,
+doggedly.
+
+"Do you expect me to let you kill every horse I own?" demanded Lord
+Bob. "They can't stand these round-the-world pleasure trips every
+day, don't you know. Glad to oblige you, my boy, but I must be
+humane."
+
+That evening Father Bivot came to the castle, just as they were
+leaving the dinner table. He brought startling news. Not an hour
+before, while on his way from the nearest village, he had come upon
+a big party of men, quartered on the premises of a gardener down the
+valley. It required but little effort on his part to discover that
+they were officers from the capital, and that they were looking for
+the place where Courant's body was found. The good Father also
+learned that detectives from Brussels were in the party, and that
+one of the men was a prince. The eager listeners in Castle
+Craneycrow soon drew from the priest enough to convince them that
+Ugo was at the head of the expedition, and that it was a matter of
+but a few hours until he and his men would be knocking at the gates.
+
+"The prince did not address me," said Father Bivot, "but listened
+intently, as I now recall, to everything I said in response to the
+Luxemburg officer's questions. That person asked me if Lord Robert
+Saxondale owned a place in the valley, and I said that his lordship
+dwelt in Castle Craneycrow. The men were very curious, and a tall
+Italian whispered questions to the officer, who put them to me
+roughly. There was no harm in telling them that his lordship was
+here with a party of friends--"
+
+"Good Lord!" gasped Dickey, despairingly.
+
+"It is all over," said Quentin, his face rigid.
+
+"What will they do?" demanded Dorothy, panic-stricken.
+
+"I do not understand your agitation, good friends," said the priest,
+in mild surprise. "Have I done wrong in telling them you are here?
+Who are they? Are they enemies?"
+
+"They are searching for me, Father Bivot," said Dorothy, resignedly.
+
+"For you, my child?" in wonder.
+
+"They want to take me back to Brussels, You would not understand,
+Father, if I told you the story, but I do not want them to find me
+here."
+
+A frightened servant threw open the door unceremoniously at this
+juncture and controlling his excitement with moderate success,
+announced that a crowd of men were at the gates, demanding
+admission.
+
+"My God, Bob, this will ruin you and Lady Saxondale!" groaned
+Quentin. "What can we do? Escape by the underground passage?"
+
+Lord Saxondale was the coolest one in the party. He squared his
+shoulders, sniffed the air belligerently, and said he would take the
+matter in his own hands.
+
+"Frances, will you take Miss Garrison upstairs with you? And Jane, I
+suspect you would better go, too The secret passage is not to be
+considered. If we attempt to leave the place, after the information
+Father Bivot has given them, it will be a clean admission of guilt.
+We will face them down. They can't search the castle without my
+permission, and they can't trespass here a minute longer than I
+desire. Do you care to see the prince, Quentin?"
+
+"See him? It is my duty and not yours to meet him. It means nothing
+to me and it means disgrace to you, Bob, Let me talk to--"
+
+"If you intend to act like an ass, Phil, you shan't talk to him. I
+am in control here, and I alone can treat with him and the
+officers."
+
+"Please, sir, they are becoming very angry, and say they will break
+down the gates in the name of the law," said the servant, reentering
+hurriedly.
+
+"I will go out and talk to them about the law," said Saxondale,
+grimly. "Don't be alarmed, Miss Garrison. We'll take care of you.
+Gad, you look as if you want to faint! Get her upstairs, Frances."
+
+"I must speak with you, Lord Saxondale," cried Dorothy, clutching
+his arm and drawing him apart from the pale-faced group. Eagerly she
+whispered in his ear, stamping her foot in reply to his blank
+objections. In the end she grasped both his shoulders and looked up
+into his astonished eyes determinedly, holding him firmly until he
+nodded his head gravely. Then she ran across the room to the two
+ladies and the bewildered priest, crying to the latter:
+
+"You must come upstairs and out of danger, Father. We have no time
+to lose. Good luck to you, Lord Saxondale!" and she turned an
+excited face to the three men who stood near the door.
+
+"He shall not have you, Dorothy," cried Quentin. "He must kill me
+first."
+
+"Trust to Lord Saxondale's diplomacy, Phil," she said, softly, as
+she passed him on her way to the stairs.
+
+
+
+
+XXXI. HER WAY
+
+
+The grim smile that settled on the faces of the three men after the
+women and the trembling priest had passed from the hall, was not one
+of amusement. It was the offspring of a desperate, uneasy courage.
+
+"Quentin, the safety of those women upstairs depends on your
+thoughtfulness. You must leave this affair to me. We can't keep them
+waiting any longer. Gad, they will tear down the historic gate I had
+so much difficulty in building last year. Wait for me here. I go to
+meet the foe."
+
+Turk was standing in the courtyard with a revolver in his hand. Lord
+Bob commanded him to put away the weapon and to "stow his
+bellicoseness." Mere chance caused Turk to obey the command in full;
+half of it he did not understand. The voices outside the gate were
+much more subdued than his lordship expected, but he did not know
+that Prince Ugo had warily enjoined silence, fearing the flight of
+the prey.
+
+"Who is there?" called Lord Bob, from the inside
+
+"Are you Lord Saxondale?" demanded a guttural voice on the outside.
+
+"I am. What is the meaning of this disturbance?"
+
+"We are officers of the government, and we are looking for a person
+who is within your walls. Open the gate, my lord."
+
+"How am I to know you are officers of the law? You may be a pack of
+bandits. Come back to-morrow, my good friends."
+
+"I shall be compelled to break down your gate, sir," came from
+without, gruffly.
+
+"Don't do it. The first man who forces his way will get a bullet in
+his head. If you can give me some assurance that you are officers
+and not thieves, I may admit you." Lord Bob was grinning broadly,
+much to the amazement of the servant who held the lantern. There
+were whispers on the outside.
+
+"Prince Ravorelli is with us, my lord. Is he sufficient guarantee?"
+asked the hoarse voice.
+
+"Is Giovanni Pavesi there, also?" asked Saxondale, loudly.
+
+"I do not know him, my lord. The prince's companions are strangers
+to me. Is such a person here?" Lord Bob could almost see the look on
+Ugo's face when the question was put to him.
+
+"I never heard the name," came the clear voice of the Italian. "My
+friends are well known to Lord Saxondale. He remembers Count
+Sallaconi and the Duke of Laselli. Two men from Brussels are also
+here--Captains Devereaux and Ruz."
+
+"I recognize the prince's voice," said Saxondale, unlocking the
+gate. "Come inside, gentlemen," he said, as he stood before the
+group. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, you know, but it is wise to
+be on the safe side. So you are looking for some one who is in my
+castle? May I inquire the name of that person?"
+
+"You know very well, Lord Saxondale," said Ugo, now taking the lead.
+He stood boldly, defiantly before the Englishman.
+
+"Carmenita Malban is dead, your excellency," said Bob, coolly.
+
+"I do not know what you are talking about, sir," grated the prince.
+"Dorothy Garrison is here, held against her will, and I, her
+affianced husband, command you to surrender her."
+
+"Have you the authority to take her, if I refuse to obey?" asked the
+other, with exasperating coolness.
+
+"These officers have the authority to arrest you and to take her
+from your hands, violently, if necessary."
+
+"Oh, well, that makes a difference, of course. Miss Garrison is
+here, Prince Ravorelli, but I doubt your authority to take her
+away."
+
+"There is a reward for her, dead or alive," said Count Sallaconi,
+savagely.
+
+"And for the abductors," added the burly man from Luxemburg. "I
+shall have to place you under arrest, my lord."
+
+"One moment, my good man. Miss Garrison is her own mistress, I
+believe?" addressing the prince.
+
+"What has that to do with it?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know, but it may be important. If you will kindly
+request your followers to remain in the courtyard, you may enter the
+castle and converse with Miss Garrison herself, Prince Paves--I
+should say Ravorelli." There was a wild, hunted look in the
+Italian's eyes, and there was murder in his heart. "I will ask you
+and the count and the duke and Officer Luxemburg to come with me."
+
+With rare dignity Lord Saxondale strode across the flags and
+deliberately threw open the huge castle door. After a moment of
+indecision and not a little trepidation, Prince Ugo followed, with
+his two countrymen not far behind. The Luxemburg officer gave
+hurried instructions to his men and took his place among the favored
+few.
+
+It was a sharply-drawn hiss, ending in a triumphant "ah," that came
+from the lips of Ugo when he was face to face with Philip Quentin.
+His glittering eyes plainly said that his suspicions were confirmed.
+The discovery of the fact, a week before, that the two Americans had
+not sailed for New York provided the foundation for a shrewd guess
+and he had not been wrong.
+
+"It is as I suspected," he said, tersely. "I trust I am not too late
+to save Miss Garrison from outrage."
+
+"One moment, please," commanded Lord Bob. "You are here through
+sufferance, and you must, for the time being, imagine yourself a
+gentleman. If you care to talk over the situation with us while we
+wait for Lady Saxondale and Miss Garrison, I shall be only too glad
+to have you do so. Will you be seated, gentlemen?"
+
+"We are not here to be directed by you, Lord Saxondale. We have
+tracked this scoundrel to earth, and we are--" Ugo was saying hotly
+when his lordship turned on him sternly.
+
+"Mr. Quentin is my guest. Another remark of that character and I
+will throw you bodily from the room. This is my house, Prince
+Ravorelli." Paying no heed to the malevolent glare in the Italian's
+eyes, Saxondale turned and bade a servant ask Miss Garrison to come
+down if it pleased her to do so.
+
+"I presume Brussels is very much excited over Miss Garrison's
+disappearance," said he to the livid-faced prince.
+
+"Brussels is horrified, but she will rejoice tomorrow. Thank God, we
+have not toiled in vain."
+
+"Sit down. May I inquire for the health of Mrs. Garrison?" The four
+newcomers, more or less ill at ease, sat down with Lord Bob, the two
+Americans standing. Quentin leaned against the big post at the foot
+of the steps, his face the picture of gloomy defiance.
+
+"I am not her physician, sir."
+
+"Hoity-toity! She is quite well, then, I may reasonably infer. Can
+you tell me whether she is in Brussels?"
+
+"She will be in Luxemburg in the morning, if my message reaches her
+to-night. But we are not here for the purpose of bandying words with
+you, sir. This house must be searched, whether you like it or not.
+Captain, call in your men," cried the prince, his rage getting the
+better of him.
+
+"You will find that the door is barred, captain," said Saxondale,
+easily. The expression that came into the faces of the four men was
+one not soon to be forgotten. For a full minute there was absolute
+silence.
+
+"Do you mean that we are prisoners?" demanded Ugo, his teeth
+showing, but not in a smile.
+
+"Not at all. The door has a habit of locking itself."
+
+"I command you to open that door!" cried the prince, looking about
+him like a trapped rat. He snarled with rage when he saw the smile
+on Quentin's face. Dickey's sudden chuckle threw dismay into the
+ranks of the confident besiegers.
+
+"Do not be alarmed, gentlemen," said Saxondale. "The door shall be
+opened in good time. Ah, I think the ladies are coming."
+
+As he spoke Dorothy and Lady Saxondale appeared at the top of the
+stairs. Ugo would have dashed up to meet them had not the two
+Americans blocked the way. Slowly Dorothy came down the oaken steps,
+followed by Lady Saxondale. Lady Jane and Father Bivot were not far
+behind them.
+
+"Dorothy!" cried Ugo. "Thank heaven, I have found you!"
+
+She stopped on the bottom step, within arm's length of Philip
+Quentin. There was a moment of indecision, a vivid flush leaped into
+her lovely cheek, and then her hand went quickly forth and rested on
+Quentin's shoulder. He started and looked at her for the first time.
+
+"I am sorry, Ugo, for the wrong I have done you," she said,
+steadily, but her hand trembled convulsively on Phil's shoulder.
+Mechanically he reached up and took the slim fingers in his broad,
+strong hand and rose to the step beside her.
+
+"The wrong?" murmured the prince, mechanically.
+
+"In running away from you as I did," she said, hurriedly, as if
+doubting her power to proceed. "It was heartless of me, and it
+subjected you to the crudest pain and humiliation. I cannot ask you
+to forgive me. You should despise me."
+
+"Despise you?" he gasped, slowly. The truth began to dawn on two men
+at the same time. Ugo's heart sank like a stone and Quentin's leaped
+as if stung by an electric shock. His figure straightened, his chin
+was lifted, and the blood surged from all parts of his body to his
+turbulent heart.
+
+"I loved him, Prince Ravorelli, better than all the world. It was a
+shameless way to leave you, but it was the only way," she said, her
+voice full. Then she lifted her eyes to Quentin's and for the moment
+all else was forgotten.
+
+"My God, you--you did not leave Brussels of your own free will!"
+cried the prince, his eyes blazing, Sallaconi and Laselli moved
+toward the door, and the police officer's face was a study.
+
+"I ran away with the man I love," she answered, bravely.
+
+"It is a lie!" shrieked the Italian. Saxondale seized his hand in
+time to prevent the drawing of a revolver from his coat pocket.
+"'Damn you! This is a trick!"
+
+"You have Miss Garrison's word for it, your excellency. She was not
+abducted, and your search has been for naught," said the big
+Englishman. "There are no abductors here. The famous abduction was a
+part of the game and it was abetted by the supposed victim."
+
+"But there is a reward for her return to Brussels," interrupted the
+Luxemburg official, speaking for the first time. "I must insist that
+she come with me."
+
+"The reward is for Dorothy Garrison, is it not?" demanded Saxondale.
+
+"Yes, my lord."
+
+"Well, as you cannot get out of the castle and your friends cannot
+get into it until we open the doors, there is absolutely no
+possibility of your taking Dorothy Garrison to Brussels."
+
+"Do you mean to oppose the law?" cried Ugo, panting with rage.
+
+"Gentlemen, as the host in Castle Craneycrow, I invite you to
+witness the marriage ceremony which is to make it impossible for you
+to take Dorothy Garrison to Brussels. You have come, gentlemen--a
+trifle noisily and unkindly, I admit--just in time to witness the
+wedding of my two very good friends who eloped with the sound of
+wedding bells in their ears. Father Bivot, the bride and groom await
+you."
+
+"Dorothy, my darling," whispered Quentin. She turned her burning
+face away.
+
+"It is my way, Phil. I love you," she murmured.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Castle Craneycrow, by George Barr McCutcheon
+
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