diff options
Diffstat (limited to '5349-h/5349-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 5349-h/5349-h.htm | 11242 |
1 files changed, 11242 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/5349-h/5349-h.htm b/5349-h/5349-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29ae782 --- /dev/null +++ b/5349-h/5349-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11242 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Castle Craneycrow, by George Barr Mccutcheon + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +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: March 12, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CASTLE CRANEYCROW *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + CASTLE CRANEYCROW + </h1> + <h3> + By George Barr McCutcheon + </h3> + <h3> + NEW YORK + </h3> + <h3> + 1902 + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>CASTLE CRANEYCROW</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. THE TAKING OF TURK </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. SOME RAIN AND ITS CONSEQUENCES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. PRINCE UGO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. AND THE GIRL, TOO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. A SUNDAY ENCOUNTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. DOROTHY GARRISON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII. THE WOMAN FROM PARIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII. THE FATE OF A LETTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> X. TWO IN A TRAP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XI. FROM THE POTS AND PLANTS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XII. HE CLAIMED A DAY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIII. SOME UGLY LOOKING MEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIV. A DINNER AND A DUEL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XV. APPROACH OF THE CRISIS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVI. THE COURAGE OF A COWARD </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVII. A FEW MEN AND A WOMAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVIII. ARRIVALS FROM LONDON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XIX. THE DAY OF THE WEDDING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XX. WITH STRANGE COMPANIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XXI. THE HOME OF THE BRIGANDS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXII. CASTLE CRANEYCROW </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIII. HIS ONLY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIV. THE WHITE FLAG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXV. DOWN AMONG THE GHOSTS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXVI. “THE KING OF EVIL-DOERS” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVII. THE FLIGHT WITH THE PRIEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXVIII. THE GAME OF THE PRIEST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXIX. DOROTHY'S SOLUTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXX. LOVE IS BLIND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXXI. HER WAY </a> + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CASTLE CRANEYCROW + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. THE TAKING OF TURK + </h2> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm lookin' for a boardin' house,” replied the other, sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “You're just a plain thief—that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “As a bear.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Police station, you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, don't be unkind, Mr. Burglar. I mean supper for two. I'm hungry + myself, but not a bit sleepy. Will you wait?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm in no particular hurry.” + </p> + <p> + Quentin dressed calmly. The burglar began whistling softly. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready?” asked Philip, putting on his overcoat and hat. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, here is your coat. I must have taken it from the club by mistake. + Pardon me.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “S' 'elp me Gawd if you ain't a peach.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a place to sleep?” he asked, at length. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “By the way, what's your name?” he asked, before he closed the door. + </p> + <p> + “Turkington—James Turkington, sir,” answered the now respectful + robber. And he wanted to say more, but the other interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. SOME RAIN AND ITS CONSEQUENCES + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “We'll get out of this, Turk. I've had enough of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do we go, sir?” calmly asked the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven knows! But be ready to start tomorrow. We'll go somewhere and + dodge this blessed downpour. Call me a cab.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Quentin, you're just the man I'm looking for. Come in here.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + So it happened that the next morning Turk was unpacking things in Mr. + Quentin's cabin and establishing relations with the bath steward. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. PRINCE UGO + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “With a rudder,” he answered, laconically. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What an ambition! Why not a whale or a shark?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the best thing you've said since you were seasick,” she said, + sweetly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you didn't hear what I said when I was seasick.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I've heard brother Bob say things,” loftily. + </p> + <p> + “But nobody can say things quite so impressively as an American.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he replied; “I seem in some way to associate you with Brazil and the + South American cities. Were you ever in Rio Janeiro?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But isn't it rather odd that we should have the same feeling? And you + have not been in New York?” persisted Phil. + </p> + <p> + “I have not been in America at all, you must remember,” replied the + prince, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be the solution,” admitted Phil, but he was by no means + satisfied by the hypothesis. + </p> + <p> + In the cab, later on, Lord Bob was startled from a bit of doze by hearing + his thoughtful, abstracted companion exclaim: + </p> + <p> + “By thunder!” + </p> + <p> + “What's up? Forgot your hat, or left something at the club?” he demanded, + sleepily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What! But he said he'd never been in America,” exclaimed Saxondale, wide + awake. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say it would be awkward if that part of his past were raked up. + He wasn't a Puritan, Bob.” + </p> + <p> + “They are a bit scarce at best.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The trial! What trial?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ravorelli doesn't look like a murderer,” said Lord Bob, stoutly. + </p> + <p> + “But he remembers seeing me in that courtroom, Bob.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. AND THE GIRL, TOO + </h2> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Lucky dog, eh? Everybody admires him, too, it seems. Do you know him, + Frances?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. You don't like Italian princes, then?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You dreamed of him last night? He certainly made an impression, then,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “I dreamed I saw him abusing a harmless, overworked and underfed little + monkey on the streets of New York.” + </p> + <p> + “How absurd!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Phil Quentin, you are manufacturing that dream as you sit here. Wait till + you know him better and you will like him.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are quite right, and I can't say that the count impresses me + more favorably.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite impossible, Lady Frances. I never had a flame.” + </p> + <p> + “But she was, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” ejaculated Dickey, solemnly and impressively. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If he collected them he'd have a harem,” observed Mr. Savage, sagely. + “He's had so many he can't count 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think it disgusting to count them, Mr. Savage, even if he + could,” said Lady Jane, severely. + </p> + <p> + “I can count mine backwards,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Beginning at one?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Lady Jane; one in my teens, none at present. No task, at all, to + count mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you give me the name of that old sweetheart of mine, Lady + Saxondale? Whom is the prince to marry?” asked Quentin. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I may have a look at her while I'm here, just to see what time has + done for her,” said Quentin. + </p> + <p> + “You may have the chance to ask if she remembers you,” said Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “And if she thinks you've grown older,” added Lord Bob. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell her you are not married?” demanded Lady Jane. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I never saw such eyes, such a complexion, such hair, such a carriage,” + cried Lady Frances. + </p> + <p> + “Has she any teeth?” asked Dickey, and was properly frowned upon by Lady + Jane. + </p> + <p> + “You describe her as completely in that sentence, Lady Frances, as a + novelist could in eight pages,” said Quentin. + </p> + <p> + “No novelist could describe her,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. A SUNDAY ENCOUNTER + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” said Quentin, “Lady Saxondale tells me you are to marry a + former acquaintance of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “She will be with Lady Marnham, Ah, I see them now.” The young prince was + looking eagerly ahead. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I remember him. Phil and I were playmates in the old days. + Dear me, it seems a century ago,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell you how well the century has treated you,” he said, + gallantly. “It has not been so kind to me.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + As they all reached the corner, Quentin asked: “Are you in London for + long, Dorothy?” Lady Frances thought his tone a trifle eager. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. DOROTHY GARRISON + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “From that I judge you sometimes long for them,” he said, simply. To Lady + Frances it sounded daring. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear you are going over this fall,” said Quentin, with a fair show of + interest. + </p> + <p> + “Who—who told you so?” she asked, in some surprise. He could not + detect confusion. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find Prince Ugo rugged,” she said, flushing slightly, and he + imagined he could distinguish a softness in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “I am told he is an athlete, a great horseman, a marvelous swordsman,” + said Lady Frances. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't seem possible that you are the same Dorothy Garrison I used to + know,” he said, reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “In every way. You were charming in those days.” + </p> + <p> + “And not charming now, I infer.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must come another day,” she answered, brightly. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot come to-morrow,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I did not say 'to-morrow.'” + </p> + <p> + “But I'll come on Friday,” he went on, decisively. She looked concerned + for an instant and then smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Marnham will give you tea on Friday. I shall not be at home,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “But I am going back to New York next week,” he said, confidently. + </p> + <p> + “Next week? Are you so busy?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And he can't afford to lose you. Stay, Phil; the Saxondales are such + jolly people.” + </p> + <p> + “How about the tea on Friday?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is no consideration.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “On that one condition,” she said, earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “You will meet the prince here on Friday. I shall ask him to come early, + that he may learn to know you better.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I'd like to know him better. At what hour is he to come?” + </p> + <p> + “By 3:30, at least,” she said, pointedly. “Too early to be correct, you + suspect?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not. You may expect me before three. I am not a stickler for + form.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall not serve tea until four o'clock,” she said, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Has she lost any of the charm?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am not quite sure. I'm to find out on Friday.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going back on Friday?” in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “To drink tea, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she ask you to come?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't remember, but I think I suggested it.” + </p> + <p> + “Be careful, Phil; I don't want you to turn Dorothy Garrison's head.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I think the prince could become very jealous,” she went on, earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Which would mean stilettos for two, I presume.” After a moment's + contemplative silence he said: “By Jove! she is beautiful, though.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You should ask me to your wedding,” he said, as the prince came in. + </p> + <p> + “But you will not be here.” + </p> + <p> + “I've changed my mind,” he said, calmly, and then smiled into her puzzled + eyes. “Brussels, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; the middle of September,” she said, dreamily. + </p> + <p> + “You'll ask me to come?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have asked you, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. THE WOMAN FROM PARIS + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to Brussels next week,” he said, deliberately. The others + stared at him in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “To Brussels? You mean New York,” said Lady Frances, faintly. + </p> + <p> + “New York won't see me for some time. I'm going to make a tour of the + continent. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Wha—what do you mean?” floundered Lord Bob. + </p> + <p> + “Just this: I love Dorothy Garrison, and I'm going to marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't forget, Mr. Savage, that you are a foreigner when on British soil,” + remonstrated the Lady Jane, vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be sarcastic, Bob,” exclaimed Quentin. “I'll not need your castle. + We're going to live in the clouds.” + </p> + <p> + “Beware of the prince,” said Lady Frances. “He is pretty high himself, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle,” he replied, pausing, “can I be of service to you?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Watched? What do you mean?” almost gasped Quentin. + </p> + <p> + “I can only say that you are in danger and that you have incurred the + displeasure of a man who brooks no interference.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Is this man of noble blood?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she almost whispered, turning her eyes away. + </p> + <p> + “And he means to do me harm?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Because?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he fears your power.” + </p> + <p> + “In what direction?” + </p> + <p> + “You know without asking, M. Quentin.” + </p> + <p> + “And why do you take this interest in me? I am nothing to you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Unless what? You interest me.” + </p> + <p> + “Unless you withdraw from the contest.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a very strange proceeding,” began he, half-convinced of her + sincerity. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you so interested in me?” he asked, sharply. “Why do you want me + to win—to win, well, to win the battle?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—” she began, but checked herself. A deep blush spread over + her face just as she dropped the veil. + </p> + <p> + “The cad!” he said, understanding coming to him like a flash. “There is + more than one heart at stake.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye and good luck, Monsieur,” she whispered. He held her hand for an + instant as she passed him, then she was gone. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “By thunder, I remember now! It was she who sat beside him in the carriage + this morning!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. THE FATE OF A LETTER + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Eyes, nothin'! They is microscopes, Mr. Quentin.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I saw you at Mons,” said Phil, after the first expressions of + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot say,” answered the other, his black eyes fastened on Quentin's, + “My business here is of an uncertain nature.” + </p> + <p> + “Diplomatic, I infer?” + </p> + <p> + “It would not be diplomatic for me to say so. I suspect I shall see you + again, Mr. Quentin.” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless; I am to be at the Bellevue.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, also. We may see some of the town together.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind,” said Quentin, bowing deeply. “Do you travel alone?” + </p> + <p> + “The duchess is ill and is in Florence. I am so lonely without her.” + </p> + <p> + “It's beastly luck for business to carry one away from a sick wife. By the + way, how is my dear friend, Prince Ugo?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you lived down here somewhere,” he exclaimed, joyfully, seizing + her hand. “'I knew I could find you.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Looking for you, Dorothy. Shall I post your letter?” + </p> + <p> + She was still standing as if rooted to the spot, the letter in a sad + plight. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.'' + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Fiddlesticks! Send it as it is. The prince will blame the postoffice + people,” cried he. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Now, tell me all about it,” she said, taking a chair quite across the big + room. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing to tell,” he said. “I am in Brussels, and I thought I'd + hunt you up.” + </p> + <p> + “But why didn't you write or wire me that you were coming? You haven't + acted much like a friend,” she said, pointedly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “How absurd! As if seeing you could have anything to do with it!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter in the least; really, it doesn't. Your coming—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't expect me to give it to you?” she cried, holding it behind her. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the letter,” he commanded, Sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish me to hate you?” she blazed. + </p> + <p> + “'Heaven forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “By George, Dorothy, that's downright cruel. It was intended for me—” + </p> + <p> + “You should thank me. I have only saved you the trouble of destroying it,” + she said, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I would have kept it forever,” he said, fervently. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You can never know,” she said, defiantly, from the bottom of the steps, + “for I have forgotten the contents myself.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why didn't he?” This was almost a threat. + </p> + <p> + “It is a mystery we have yet to unravel. Shall we send for Sherlock + Holmes?” + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy, I am very serious. How can you make light of this unwarranted + intrusion? He is—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “He shall go soon,” said Mrs. Garrison, with determination. + </p> + <p> + “You will not—will not drive him away?” said her daughter, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You defend him?” + </p> + <p> + “As he would defend me.” + </p> + <p> + “You have another man to defend. Do you think of him?” + </p> + <p> + “You have yet to say that Ugo is no gentleman. It will then be time for + defense, such as I am offering now.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be sarcastic, mamma. It doesn't help matters and—” began + Dorothy, almost plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite content upstairs,” replied Mrs. Garrison, sweetly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Looks like rain, too,” said he, briefly. Then, with new animation: “Tell + me, what was in that letter?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but nonsense,” she replied, smiling serenely, for she was again a + diplomat. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you mean to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly—not.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all I want to know. I can always tell by a girl's eyes whether she + is stubborn.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not stubborn.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “How long do you expect—I mean purpose to stay?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure mamma would not—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, Phil! Really, you don't know how it embarrasses me—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean that. You know I want to see you—for old times' sake.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall go, nevertheless, if you merely hint that I am unwelcome.” She + arose and suddenly gave him her hand. + </p> + <p> + “You are not unwelcome, and you are foolish to speak in that manner,” she + said, seriously. + </p> + <p> + “And your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “She must endure what I endure.” + </p> + <p> + “Somewhere Baedeker says that the Bois de la Cambre is the finest park in + Brussels,” said he, his eyes gleaming. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure Baedeker is reliable,” she agreed, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. TWO IN A TRAP + </h2> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “When?” asked Phil, glancing at Laselli's card. He had forgotten the + Italian, and the sight of his name recalled the plot unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't scent in this language, sir.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I thought a ride on the tramcars might cool me off a bit,'” said Phil. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am in your hands, and at your mercy,” said the other, clinging close to + him as they merged into the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “They are most charming and agreeable,” murmured the duke. “This is such a + frightful crowd Shall we not cross to the other side?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Much easier than I thought,” said Quentin, puffing quietly at his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + It was twelve o'clock when they returned to the hotel, after a rather + picturesque evening in the gay cafes. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “How absurd!” she said, readily, however. “Isn't the avenue beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “You flatter yourself by imagining such a thing as—” + </p> + <p> + “—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—” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sarcastic; quite the reverse. I'm very serious. You know how much + I used to think of you—” + </p> + <p> + “But that was long ago, and you were such a foolish boy,” she cried, + interrupting nervously. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + To his amazement and to hers, when they returned late in the afternoon + Mrs. Garrison asked him to come back and dine. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think so?” she asked, and she did not see his smile. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. FROM THE POTS AND PLANTS + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Phil, there is a man behind those palms.” His figure straightened, but he + did not look around. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Dorothy. How could a man get—” he began, in a very low + tone. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Call the gendarmes,” whispered de Cartier, panic stricken. “Call the + servants.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But he may be armed,” said the count, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is!” cried Quentin, leaping forward. “Come on, gentlemen!” + </p> + <p> + With a frantic plunge the trapped stranger crashed through the plants, + crying hoarsely in French as he met Quentin in the open: + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to kill you! Keep off!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Come back, Phil!” cried a woman's voice, and he knew the tone because of + the thrill it sent to his heart. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Turk! It's about time you were showing up. Where the devil have + you been?” exclaimed he, wrathfully. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the house? We must search it from top to bottom.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in thunder was he doing behind those palms? That wasn't a very + sensible bit of detective work, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “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?' + </p> + <p> + “Just below one—almost against the casing.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I hate to give this job up,” growled Phil. “But I must get back to the + hotel. The villain cut me with a knife.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Did he escape?” cried Dorothy from the steps. + </p> + <p> + “He gave us the slip, confound him, Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad, really I am. What could we have done with him if he had been + caught? But are you not coming in?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you not coming up, Mr. Quentin?” called Mrs. Garrison, from the + veranda. + </p> + <p> + “You must come in,” said de Cartier, coming up at that moment with the + count and Mr. Knowlton. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Mon dieu!” exclaimed the count. “It is blood, Monsieur! You are hurt!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not in the least—merely a—” + </p> + <p> + “Phil!” cried Dorothy, standing in front of him, her wide eyes looking + intently into his. “Are you hurt? Tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “Just a little cut in the arm or shoulder, I think. Doesn't amount to + anything, I assure—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “That pays for this cut and more, if necessary,” he said, in a low voice, + as he walked at her side up the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Lean on me, Phil,” she said. “You must be faint.” He laughed merrily, and + his eyes sparkled with something not akin to pain. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Berier came and closed the gash in his shoulder. An hour later he came + downstairs, to find Mrs. Garrison and Dorothy alone. + </p> + <p> + “You were very brave, Mr. Quentin, but very foolhardy,” said Mrs. + Garrison. “I hope from my heart the wound will give you little trouble.” + </p> + <p> + His good right hand closed over hers for an instant and then clasped + Dorothy's warmly, lingeringly. + </p> + <p> + “You must let us hear from you to-morrow,” said she, softly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. HE CLAIMED A DAY + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.'” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't get excited, sir. You'll burst a blood vessel, an' that's a good + sight worse than a cut,” cautioned Turk. + </p> + <p> + “Turk, in all your burglarious years, did you ever go about robbing a + house in that manner?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in a million years.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + When at last he found the opportunity to speak with her alone he asked how + she had slept. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to hear you say that, because I was afraid you'd think like the + rest—that I was a blundering idiot.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you see an account of the affair in your morning paper?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—there were columns about it.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Ugo comes to-morrow,” she said, as they crossed to the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Which means that I am to be relegated to the dark,” he said, dolefully. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Savage will be here,” she said, sweetly, enjoying his first show of + misery. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You will fall really in love some day, never fear,” she volunteered, + after a somewhat convulsive twist of the head in his direction. + </p> + <p> + “Unquestionably,” he said, “and I shall be just as happy and as foolish as + the rest of you, I presume.” + </p> + <p> + “I should enjoy seeing you really and truly in love with some girl. It + would be so entertaining.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And why, pray?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” he said, turning abruptly and looking straight into her eyes, + “she'd have the trouble and distinction of surrendering in the end.” + </p> + <p> + “You vain, conceited thing!” she exclaimed, a trifle disconcerted. “You + overestimate your power.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I overestimate it?” he demanded, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Then why do you say I overestimate it?” he asked, relentlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Because you do,” she exclaimed, at bay. + </p> + <p> + “Are you a competent judge?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” she asked, grasping for time. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, have you the right to question my power, as you call it? Have I + attempted to exert it over you?” + </p> + <p> + “You are talking nonsense, Phil,” she said, spiritedly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. That is what I meant,” she cried, immensely relieved. + </p> + <p> + “But my point is that she might love me without knowing it and would + simply have to be brought to the realization.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she said, “that is different.” + </p> + <p> + “You take back what you said, then?” he asked, maliciously. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “That is for you to say,” he said, smiling significantly. “I think I + understand perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure it is he?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Was he alone?” asked he, his jaw setting suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “That has nothing to do with it. We must hurry home. Turn back, Phil; we + may be able to overtake him on the avenue.” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to take you to the Park, Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “That's all,” he went on, calmly. “The prince can leave his card and call + later in the—well, this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “What—you don't mean—Philip Quentin, take me home instantly,” + she blazed. + </p> + <p> + “Not for all the princes in the universe,” he said. “This is my afternoon, + and I will not give up a minute of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But I command, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “And I refuse to obey.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, this is outrageous——” she began, frantically. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “This is madness,” she cried, shivering as with a mighty chill. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + From the rumble Turk saw nothing, neither did he hear. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. SOME UGLY LOOKING MEN + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Was the prince at the house when you returned from the drive?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She won't slam the door in your face if you go to the house, will she?” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly,” said the other, smiling. “She has asked me to come. The prince + likes me, it seems.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's go, Phil, just to see how much worse our New York places are than + theirs,” said Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “But I have a—er—sort of an engagement,” remonstrated Quentin, + reluctantly. The duke gave him a sharp look. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be afraid,” he said, laughing easily. “We will not permit the + dancing girls to harm you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I have one, just the same,” he said, harshly. + </p> + <p> + “You will not accompany us, then?” said the count, the line between his + eyebrows growing deeper. + </p> + <p> + “I have to thank you, gentlemen, and to plead a previous engagement. May + we not go some other night?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Say, those fellows know you haven't an engagement,” exclaimed Savage, + wrathfully. “What sort of an ass are you?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Where does she live?” asked Savage, as they left the rotunda. + </p> + <p> + “Avenue Louise,” was the laconic answer. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you say Belgium or Europe, if you're bound to be explicit,” + growled Dickey. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd confine your miserable speculations to the weather, Dickey,” + said the other, testily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—'' + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know Courant isn't here?” + </p> + <p> + “Turk says he has disappeared.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I saw that fello\v in the hotel,” said Savage. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you? The duke and the count went to a dance hall,” + expostulated Quentin. + </p> + <p> + “To make a night of it,” added Savage + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough the dapper stranger passed by the three men in shadow, looking + uneasily, nervously up and across the street. + </p> + <p> + “He's lost th' trail,” whispered Turk, after Courant was beyond hearing. + </p> + <p> + “The same fellow, I'll be blowed,” said Dickey, in amazement. “Now, what + do you suppose the game is?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The hotel is the safest place for us, and the quicker we get there the + better,” said Dickey. “I'm not armed, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe that they intend to murder you or anything like that. + They wouldn't dare do such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <h3> + “D.” + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I can't understand it,” said Dickey, at last, starting to bed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We may be getting into a nest of masculine Lucretia Borgias, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Pleasant dreams, then. Good-night!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. A DINNER AND A DUEL + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “But there is game to be had without resorting to the gun,” he said, + smiling blandly. + </p> + <p> + “One doesn't have to go to a shooting box to bag it, though,” said + Sallaconi, mischievously. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What are they talking about?” asked the American millionaire of Dickey, + his curiosity aroused by the laughter of a moment before. + </p> + <p> + “About as nasty as they can,” growled Dickey. “That's their style, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew! You don't have much of an opinion of nobility. Beware of the + prince,” said the other, in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a saint, but this is more than I can stand. It is sickening,” + said Quentin. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “If you understand English you probably did,” said Dickey, pale but + defiant. + </p> + <p> + “Come, prince,” began the agitated count, but Kapolski shook him off. + </p> + <p> + “You must apologize for your comments, sir,” said the prince, in excellent + English. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone, Phil!” panted Dickey. “You don't suppose I'm going to run + from that big duffer, do you? Let go!” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “See!” exclaimed Dickey. “It was a job, after all, and the dago is at the + bottom of it!” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Mistake or no mistake, he has struck me, and he shall pay for it. The + other can come later,” growled the Russian, savagely. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, this is no place to fight. Let us have explanations—” + began Ugo, addressing Quentin more than Savage, but the latter + interrupted: + </p> + <p> + “Call off your dogs and we will talk it over,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Dickey!” cautioned his friend. + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand you, Mr. Savage. My dogs? Oh, I see, Mr. Quentin; he + is mad with anger,” said the prince, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “There can be no explanations,” snarled Kapolski. “My card, Monsieur,” and + he threw the pasteboard in the young American's face. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You will have that to recall, Monsieur, but not until after I have + disposed of your valiant friend,” exclaimed Kapolski. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'm speaking of hands, not arms,” said Phil, glaring at the other. + </p> + <p> + “I'll fight him in a second,” cried Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “You know what I mean. I can and am ready to fight my own battles.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Cannot this affair be postponed—” began Ugo, desperately. + </p> + <p> + “Not unless your friend forgets that I punched his head. It is now or + never with me,” said Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “This is murder,” cried the millionaire, “and I shall take it before the + United States government.” + </p> + <p> + “Dickey! Dickey!” cried Phil, helplessly, as Savage began to remove his + coat. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't fired a pistol more than a dozen times in my life,” said + Dickey, smiling faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Then shoot low,” said the millionaire. + </p> + <p> + “Your second, Monsieur?” said the Austrian duke, coming to Savage's side. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Quentin will act, Monsieur le Duc. We may need a surgeon.” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Gassbeck is here.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Phil,” was all he said. Poor Quentin turned his face away as he + clasped his hand, and he could only murmur: + </p> + <p> + “If he hits you, I'll kill him.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He lunged forward. Dickey's bullet had blown away part of the big + Russian's chin and jaw, burying itself in the wall beyond. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. APPROACH OF THE CRISIS + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Like a top,” lied Dickey, cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least; did it, Quentin?” + </p> + <p> + “He slept like a baby.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I think Buckner's nose was a cleaner shot. It wasn't nearly so + disgusting,” said Phil. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you are able to hit a man just where you please?” + demanded the count. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I'd feel like a butcher to the last day of my life,” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should he risk his head or his heart if he can induce other men to + fight for him?” + </p> + <p> + “But it seems that he has traitors in his camp. I wonder who that waiter + was?” + </p> + <p> + After a long silence Dickey dolefully asked: “Say, do you believe the + Saxondales turned me down on that shooting box party?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe it. All is well between you and Lady Jane, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “As well as it can ever be,” said the other, looking straight ahead, his + jaws set. + </p> + <p> + “Oho! Is it all off?” + </p> + <p> + “Is what all off?” belligerently. + </p> + <p> + “O, if you don't know, I won't insist on an answer. I merely suspected a + thickness.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Why the devil didn't you tell me it was there?” exploded Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “Does Lady Jane make an R that looks like a streak of lightning with all + sorts of angles?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Can you recall my words, Prince Ravorelli?” + </p> + <p> + “You said that you would hold him to account if your friend—” began + the count, but Quentin turned upon him coolly. + </p> + <p> + “My quarrel, if there is one, is with the prince, Count Sallaconi. Will + you kindly allow him to jog his own memory?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “So much the better; you are not in doubt as to what I meant. Now, Prince + Ravorelli, may I ask you to speak plainly?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It is your privilege, sir, and I meant precisely what I said.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have to demand of you an apology and a satisfctory explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + “You enlarge the insult, Mr. Quentin,” said Ugo, with a deadly tone in his + voice. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “My only reply to that assertion is that you lie,” he said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “This is a public place, Prince Ugo. I will not knock you down here.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I will add then, sir, that you are a coward.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Count Sallaconi is my second, I do not care to hear another word—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Ravorelli calmly heard him to the end. Then he turned and strode away, + smiling derisively. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “There's only one way to find out, old man,” said he, and he did not + succeed in disguising the hopelessness in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There's the rub. Does she care enough for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you asked her how much she cares?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. THE COURAGE OF A COWARD + </h2> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Is Kapolski dead?” asked Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “She wouldn't see me,” he said, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter? Sick?” + </p> + <p> + “No explanation. Just wouldn't see me, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Which means it's all off, eh? The prince got there first and spiked your + guns. Well? What have you written to her?” + </p> + <p> + “That I am going to see her to-night if I have to break into the house.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm in no humor for joking, Dickey.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't see her if she refuses to receive you.” + </p> + <p> + “But she will see me. She's fair enough to give me a chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to accompany you?” + </p> + <p> + “I intend to go alone.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And he'll laugh at you, too.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later Turk returned. He was grinning broadly as he entered the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Did you succeed?” demanded Quentin, leaping to his feet. For answer the + little man daintily, gingerly dropped a small envelope into his hand. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “She says I may come, Dickey. I knew she would,” he exclaimed, joyously. + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “At nine to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all she says?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—er—no. She says she will see me for the last time.” + </p> + <p> + “Not very comforting, I should say.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “If she believes what you tell her, she won't care to marry him.” + </p> + <p> + “She knows I'm not a liar, Dickey, confound you.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “We are usually engaged at this hour, Mr. Quentin, but to-night we are at + home to no one but you,” she said, meaningly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very plain to me, Mr. Quentin, and I may be equally frank with you. + It is useless.” + </p> + <p> + “You will of course permit me to hear that from the one who has the right + to decide,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Has she commissioned you to say this to me?” he asked, his eyes + penetrating like a knife. + </p> + <p> + “I am her mother, not her agent.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall respectfully insist that she speak for herself.” If a look + could kill a man, hers would have been guilty of murder. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What have you to say to me, Phil?” + </p> + <p> + “I have first to ask if you despise me,” he found voice to say. + </p> + <p> + “I decline to answer that question.'' + </p> + <p> + “Your mother has said so.” + </p> + <p> + “She should not have done so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she has misrepresented you?” he cried, taking several steps toward + her. + </p> + <p> + “I did not say that she had.” + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy, what do you mean by this? What right have you to—” he + began, fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Quentin!” exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” cried he, at bay and doggedly, “I must know the truth. Will you + come to the veranda with me, Dorothy?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied, without a quaver. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing that I care to hear from you.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “When I have said all that I have to say to her, Mrs. Garrison, I'll bring + her back to you.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I do deny it. How dare you make such an assertion?” she cried, hotly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Forget that I was rough or harsh, dear. Sit still,” he cried, as at the + word of endearment she attempted to rise. + </p> + <p> + “You forget yourself! You forget—” was all she could say. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you refuse to see me this afternoon?” he asked, heedlessly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Your adorer?” he half-whispered. + </p> + <p> + “A coward!” she said, slowly, distinctly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Your memory is very short.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't speak in riddles, Dorothy,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you have heard,” he said, calmly, divining the truth. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Who has told you all this?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “No matter who has told me. You did play the part of a coward. What else + can you call it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That is untrue!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I only know that you refused to do so, and that Brussels calls you a + coward.” + </p> + <p> + “You would have had me accept his challenge? Answer!” + </p> + <p> + “You lost every vestige of my respect by refusing to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you wanted me to meet and to kill him,” he said, accusingly. + </p> + <p> + “I—I—Oh, it would not have meant that,” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Did you want him to kill me?” he went on, relentlessly. + </p> + <p> + “They would have prevented the duel! It could not have gone so far as + that,” she said, trembling and terrified. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “O, Phil,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Another reason why I refused to accept his challenge was that I could not + fight a cur.” + </p> + <p> + “Phil Quentin!” she cried, indignantly, + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Do you expect me to believe this?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that you shall,” he said, imperatively. “It is the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You must not ask—you must not ask,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “But I do ask. You love me?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy!” he cried, as she sped past him. “Think what you are saying!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You call rather late, prince,” said Phil, a double meaning in his words. + </p> + <p> + “Dog!” hissed the prince. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to inform you that Miss Garrison has retired. It will save you + the trouble of ringing. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. A FEW MEN AND A WOMAN + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Don't resist or you will be shot to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “But I have no valuables—” + </p> + <p> + “Your diamond ring and your watch, at least, monsieur. The ring is in your + vest pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Officer!” he exclaimed. “Don't you see what they are doing?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “To make you his wife? Absurd! Men of his station do not marry, nor + promise to marry, the grisettes or the—” + </p> + <p> + “'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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. ARRIVALS FROM LONDON + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't say that I have—er—I mean don't—no, I should + say both,” murmured he distractedly. “Does she live here?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “How very annoying,” said Lady Saxondale, a faint frown on her brow. “She + is usually so punctual.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps she—er—didn't get your telegram,” ventured Dickey. + “What sort of a looking—I mean, is she old or young?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I can't think of troubling you, Mr. Savage. It won't be necessary for you + to dodge around in this crowd to—” + </p> + <p> + “No trouble, I assure you, Lady Jane. Be glad to do it, in fact. Where + shall we go first?” demanded he, considerably flurried. + </p> + <p> + “You go that way and I'll go this. We'll find her more easily,” said she, + relentlessly, indicating the directions. + </p> + <p> + “But I don't know her,” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The what? Why do you say mortification, Mr. Savage? I am quite sure—” + </p> + <p> + “O, come now, Jane—aw—Lady Jane—what do you mean by + that? What's all the row about? What has happened?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you, Mr. Savage.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Phil—Mr. Quentin—what did you say, Dickey?” she cried, her + haughty reserve fading like a flash. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “What are you saying, Jane? Is there anything wrong?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go with you,” said Lady Jane, enthusiastically. “Dickey,” she went + on as they hurried away, “I forgive you.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me for what?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “For not coming to Ostend,” demurely. + </p> + <p> + “You really wanted me to come, did you, Jane?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “And that was why you—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “A duel? Good heavens, how—I mean who—” she gasped, her eyes + wider than ever. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how, but I do know who, Jane, I have shot a man!” he said, + impressively. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, oh! Dickey!” she almost shrieked, coming helplessly to a + standstill, a dozen emotions crowding themselves into her pretty, + bewildered face. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + At this juncture Lady Saxondale's voice was heard behind them, and there + were traces of laughter in the tones. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “So you are to tell them about the duel Dickey,” he said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “They're crazy about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was to be kept as dark as possible.” Dickey's jaw dropped + and his eyes lost their gleam of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever know a bigger ass than I, Phil? Now, did you, honestly?” he + groaned. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Before I sail for home.” + </p> + <p> + “Going to give it up, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks I'm a liar, so what is the use?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “With the baroness? On such short acquaintance?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid Dickey has been a bit too loquacious,” said he, smilingly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The clutches of her mother are more vicious than those of the prince. + There is the power that dominates. Can it be broken?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You made a mistake when you denounced him to her. It was but natural for + her to defend him.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'll send for Bob, just the same, dear boy. What are friends for, pray?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. THE DAY OF THE WEDDING + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am so furious with her, Bob, for marrying Prince Ugo that I am not + going to the wedding,” said Lady Saxondale. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “She is sensible enough to know that we would not misrepresent matters to + her in such a serious case as this,” she retorted. + </p> + <p> + “What proof have you that Ravorelli is a villain?” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, Bob, did he not try to have Phil murdered?” she exclaimed, + pityingly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that to be a positive fact?” + </p> + <p> + “Phil and Mr. Savage are quite thoroughly convinced.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You goose, I was not an eye-witness. How could I swear to such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “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?'” + </p> + <p> + “I confess I'd say it was not true,” she said, turning quite red. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Why have you come?” she asked, at last, her voice so low that the words + scarcely reached his ears. + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy,” was all he said. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is so useless—so hopeless, Phil,” she said, softly. “Why + will you persist? I cannot grant even the crumb.” + </p> + <p> + “I love you, Dorothy,” he cried passionately. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. WITH STRANGE COMPANIONS + </h2> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The police?” finally whispered Mrs. Garrison, coming slowly out of her + stupor. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + A nameless dread sent chills to the hearts which had begun to thump wildly + in the reaction. What did he mean? + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do with us?” groaned the horrified mother. The + carriage was now moving rapidly over the pavement. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “You shall not go on, monster,” exclaimed Mrs. Garrison, fiercely. “Do you + know who we are? Surely you are not inhuman enough to—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “You are kind; Monsieur, to advise me, but it is too late.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten thousand dollars is yours if you abandon this damnable—” began + Mr. Van Dykman. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean to do with us?” cried the girl, horror in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “We do not mean to harm you, Mademoiselle, if you are sensible and do as + we command.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You are determined to go on with this outrage?” asked Van Dykman. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “My coachman, my footman, my servants, it seems, are your accomplices,” + said Mrs. Garrison, steadily. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “For God's sake, where are we?” burst forth Mr. Van Dykman, unable to + control his fear longer. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are we?” demanded the old man. + </p> + <p> + “Why have you brought us here?” asked Mrs. Garrison from the arm chair + into which she had limply fallen. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Darling, can you find me in this darkness? Come to me. Let me hold you + close in my arms, Dorothy, poor, poor child.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. THE HOME OF THE BRIGANDS + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You could not be in safer hands, Miss Garrison,” said the maid, kindly. + “I am here to do all that is your pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “All? Then I implore you to aid me in getting from—” began Dorothy, + excitedly, coming to her unsteady feet. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It is fully fifty feet to the ground,” she said, simply. Miss Garrison + sighed and then smiled resignedly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “To breakfast?” gasped Dorothy, staring at the girl as if her eyes would + pop out. “Wha—what! The impudence!” + </p> + <p> + “But you must eat, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “In the days of old when knights were bold, And barons held their sway,” + etc. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “One of the new guests who came last night,” explained the maid, + unconcernedly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'd sooner die than venture among those ruffians!” + </p> + <p> + “But the ladies are expecting you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ladies! Here?” gasped Dorothy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss; why not?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. CASTLE CRANEYCROW + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Your mother is safe and well,” cried Lady Saxondale, quickly. “She is in + Brussels, however, and not here, Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it's a castle, but where is it located? And how came you here?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “To the Earl of Saxondale, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, I know where it is. This is the old place in Luxemburg you were + telling me about.” + </p> + <p> + “That isn't a question, but you are right.” + </p> + <p> + “But how is it that I am here?” + </p> + <p> + “You can answer that question better than I, Miss Garrison.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “They were good enough to turn you over to our keeping last night, and we + are overjoyed to have you here.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am ready to hear what you have to say,” came at last from Miss + Garrison. + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary to inform you that you were abducted—” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least! The memory of the past two days is vivid enough,” said + Miss Garrison, with cutting irony in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “But it may interest you to know the names of your abductors,” said the + other, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “I could not miss them far in guessing, Lady Saxondale.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean,” said Dorothy, scarcely above a whisper, “that Philip Quentin + planned and executed this crime?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Saxondale nodded. + </p> + <p> + “And I am his prisoner?” breathlessly. “You are under his protection; that + is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it protection to—” began Dorothy, her eyes blazing, but + Lady Saxondale interrupted firmly. + </p> + <p> + “You are his prisoner, then, and we are your jailers. Have it as you + will.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “I did not! I hate him!” cried Dorothy. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + When Dorothy raised her wet eyes from the cushion in which they had been + buried, Lady Saxondale was gone. + </p> + <p> + Philip Quentin stood in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. HIS ONLY + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy,” said Quentin, his voice tender and pleading, “you have heard + what Lady Saxondale had to say?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she responded, hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + She faced him, slowly, a steady calm in her face, a soft intensity in her + voice. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It was my only way,” he said, at last. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “How long do you purpose to keep me in this place?” + </p> + <p> + “Until you, of your own free will, can utter three simple words.” + </p> + <p> + “And those words?” + </p> + <p> + “I love you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” she said, slowly, decisively, “I am doomed to remain here until + death releases me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; the death of ambition.” + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “I presume your daily visits are to be a part of the torture I am to + endure?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is you!” she said, after a moment. “What is your name?' + </p> + <p> + “Baker, Miss.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Baker,” she said, finally, “come here.” The maid stood before her, + attentively. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to earn a thousand pounds?” + </p> + <p> + Without the faintest show of emotion, the least symptom of eagerness, + Baker answered in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have but to serve me as I command, and the money is yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I have already been instructed to serve you, Miss.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You want to buy me, Miss?' said Baker, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Not that, quite, Baker, but just—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Miss; thank you,” respectfully and firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Ask Lady Saxondale if I may come to her.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You ask me to trust you. Now, I ask you to trust me. Trust me to shield + you and to—” + </p> + <p> + “You are cruel!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Who gave the castle such an odd, uncanny name?” asked Dorothy, under the + spell of their blithesome spirits. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Jane—the young lady on your left, an' may it please you, + Miss,” said Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could go out and explore the hills and rocks about this place,” + said Dickey, wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “Why can't you? Is it dangerous?” queried Dorothy. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, don't coax, little girl. I must go down.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dorothy!” cried Lady Jane, softly, imploringly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “There's an awful weight above him, Miss Garrison—the weight of your + wrath,” said Dickey, without a smile. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. THE WHITE FLAG + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Baker!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Miss,” and the paper rattled to the floor, for there was a new tone + in the voice that called to her. + </p> + <p> + “You may go to Lady Saxondale and say that I accept yesterday's invitation + to dine with her and Lord Saxondale.” + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday's invitation—you mean to-day's, Miss—” in + bewildered tones. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I am so lonely up there, Lady Saxondale,” she said, simply, unreservedly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no enemies here, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have a much too zealous friend.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It was glorious, and I haven't had the opportunity to ask if you have + explored the hills and forest.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid of snakes and other creeping things,” he said, slyly. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you, Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be hard luck to have to break up such an awfully nice house + party,” said Dickey, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “And the papers say they will kill us without compunction,” added Lady + Jane. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really believe they would kill poor little me?” demanded Lady + Jane, slowly, her eyes fastened on her brother's face. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heaven, no!” cried Dorothy, at the possibility of such a calamity. + “Why should they kill a helpless girl like you?” + </p> + <p> + “But I am one of the wretches they are hunting for. I'm a desperado,” + argued Lady Jane. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You might try to save my life, Mr. Savage; it would be the heroic thing + to do,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We are in the chorus, only,” added Lady Jane, humbly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Dickey, if you say another word that sounds like 'kill' I'll murder you + myself,” threatened Lord Bob. + </p> + <p> + Lady Jane began whetting a silver table knife on the edge of her plate. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV. DOWN AMONG THE GHOSTS + </h2> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I detest whiskers,” decided Lady Jane. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure they would improve you very much,” said Lady Jane, aggressively. + “What is your idea as to color?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I rather fancy a nice amber. I can get one color as easily as + another. Have you a preference?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, if I don't cut my whiskers you'll cut me?” + </p> + <p> + “Dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Lots of nice men have whiskers.” + </p> + <p> + “And so do the goats.” + </p> + <p> + “But a brigand always has a full set—in the opera, at least.” + </p> + <p> + “You are only a brigand's apprentice, and, besides, this isn't an opera. + It is a society tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Alas, I cannot fly,” she said, directly. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You are safe, dear. I'll carry you upstairs, if you like,” he said, + softly. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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! + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I was going out by another way,” she said, shortly, but a shudder gave + the lie to the declaration. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know where that hidden passage leads to?” he asked, looking up + into her face. She was brushing cobwebs from her dress. + </p> + <p> + “To a cave near the old church,” she replied, triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “Blissful ignorance!” he laughed. “It doesn't lead anywhere as it now + exists. You see, there was a cave-in a few decades ago—” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the one that caved in?” she cried, in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “So Saxondale tells me.” + </p> + <p> + “And—and how did the—the—how did that awful thing get in + there?” she asked, a new awe coming over her. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I would have saved you from that fate, never fear.” + </p> + <p> + “But you could not have known that I was inside the passage.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose I came down here on a pleasure trip?” + </p> + <p> + “You—you don't mean that you knew I was here?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; it is why I came to this blessed spot. It is my duty to see + that no harm comes to you, Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + “I prefer to be called Miss Garrison,” coldly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. “THE KING OF EVIL-DOERS” + </h2> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry I have disturbed you. In an hour, then, or at any time you may + feel like listening. It concerns Prince Ugo.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he—what has happened to him?” she demanded, turning to him with + alarm in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What a dreadful cold you have taken, Phil,” cried Lady Saxondale, + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Commonest sort of a cold, I assure you. Damp cellars don't agree with + me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “It was you or I for the cold, you know,” he said, simply, “and I was your + protector.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I've had your friend, the skeleton, buried,” said Lord Bob. “Poor chap, + he seemed all broken up over leaving the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—went all to pieces,” added Dickey. + </p> + <p> + “Dickey Savage, do you think you are funny?” demanded Lady Jane, loftily. + “I would not jest about the dead.” + </p> + <p> + “The last I saw of him he was grinning like the—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you wretch!” cried the girl, and Dorothy put her fingers to her ears. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, Dickey,” exclaimed Quentin. “Do you care to hear about that + woman in Brussels, Dorothy?” + </p> + <p> + “It is of no great consequence to me, but I'll listen if you like,” she + said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry you are suffering, Philip,” she said, steeling her heart + against the weakness that threatened. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you believe I have done all this because I love you and——” + he was saying, passionately, but she interposed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You should have a doctor,” she cried, in alarm. He smiled cheerlessly. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the fever, the fever!” he exclaimed, passionately. + </p> + <p> + “You should have a doctor,” she muttered, as if powerless to frame other + words. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVII. THE FLIGHT WITH THE PRIEST + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Turk?” she cried, and every eye swept through the group. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord, he can't be the one! Turk would die for me!” he cried, almost + piteously. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Great heaven! what have I brought you to in my folly?” groaned Quentin, + covering his face with his hands. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The officers!” whispered Lady Jane, in terror. Dickey Savage's arm went + round her. + </p> + <p> + “Let me in! Git a move on!' + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she? Where have you been?” cried Quentin, shaking him violently + in his agitation. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “A priest!” cried Lord Bob. “There hasn't been one here since Father Bivot + came three years ago to—” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy.” + </p> + <p> + Philip Quentin took the forlorn, even distressed, message from the hands + of Lady Saxondale, kissed it devoutly, and placed it in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Philip is too ill to go out on this desperate chase,” cried Lady + Saxondale. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “He owns Courant, body and soul!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We're not a tough gang!” wailed Lady Jane, in tears. “Oh, what will + become of us!” + </p> + <p> + “The Lord only knows, if we fail to get both Dorothy and Courant,” said + Quentin, in real anguish. + </p> + <p> + “They may be in Luxemburg by this time,” said Saxondale. “Gad, this is + working in the dark!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVIII. THE GAME OF THE PRIEST + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I have changed my mind—” she began, holding back as he dragged her + after him down the slope. + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” he said, harshly. “You will soon be with your friends, + my child. Do not lose heart, but trust to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you? You are not a priest. Why have you disguised yourself—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you taking me? Answer, or I shall refuse to go another step + with you!” she exclaimed, now thoroughly aroused and determined. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “To save themselves? Of course, they would—as they would a dog!” he + said. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, they treated me well—for criminals,” she managed to say. + </p> + <p> + “Criminals!” he snarled. “Bah! Of course they are criminals of the worst + kind, but they will never be punished.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid they are so clever that no one will ever find out who they + really are.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped with a lurch, and she could feel that he was looking at her in + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Her heart almost stopped beating with the shock of knowing that nothing + could now shield her captors from exposure. + </p> + <p> + “But—but it will be very hard to prove,” she said, hoarsely, almost + defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “You have only to take oath,” he said, meaningly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know the name or face of a person in that castle,” she said, + deliberately. He was silent for a full minute. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “A poor priest, by the grace of God,” he said, and she heard him chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “Take me back to the road, sir!” she commanded. + </p> + <p> + “I will take you to your mother,” he said, “and to no one else.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “We will not go far to-night. I know a place where you can hide until I + secure help from the city.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said you had a wagon.” + </p> + <p> + “The horse must have strayed away, worse luck!” said he, with a raucous + laugh. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You've come back to life, have you?” + </p> + <p> + She started violently and shivered as with a mighty chill at the sound of + these words. They came from the slouching smoker. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Dorothy was listening, with wide eyes and bated breath, to the words of + the lounging smoker. + </p> + <p> + “I will never, never marry him,” she cried, vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, if you know, did he plan to kill Mr. Quentin? I must have the + truth,” she cried, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And never told me?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But I will give you 100,000 francs if you will take me back to the + castle,” she cried, standing before him. + </p> + <p> + “Have you the money with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I have not, but it shall be yours as soon as I can—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon. You are worth nothing to me in that castle, and you will bring a + fortune in Brussels.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + A look of horror came into her face, succeeded by the deep red of insulted + modesty, and then the white of indignation. + </p> + <p> + “I will die first, you wretch!” she exclaimed. In that moment she believed + she could have killed the smiling rogue with her own hands. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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? + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIX. DOROTHY'S SOLUTION + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Turk, if she dies, I swear to God I'll kill myself this night!” cried he. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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'.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Is it you, Phil?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “Where is—where is he?” in terror. + </p> + <p> + “He cannot harm you now. He is gone.” + </p> + <p> + “But I saw his face just now. Oh, you are not telling me the truth!” + </p> + <p> + “You saw Turk's face, dearest. What a time we had in finding you! But you + are safe now, thank God!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not have to stay there, Dorothy,” he said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “He swore to me that he had not, but he knows everything, and may carry + the word to the authorities,” she interrupted, in distress. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Here, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “But I can and will,” she objected. “I am not hurt and I am stronger than + you.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It's Mr. Savage,” he yelled back to the startled couple, “an' he's on + horseback! Hi, there!” + </p> + <p> + As Dickey Savage came plunging up the slope, roaring with excited joy, she + said to Ouentin, her voice low and intense: + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to know that I do not hate you,” she argued, persistently. + </p> + <p> + “But you hated me yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Can you be ready in an hour, Dorothy?” he asked, after Saxondale had + reluctantly consented. + </p> + <p> + “Do you insist on carrying out this Quixotic plan, Phil?” she asked, after + a long pause. + </p> + <p> + “Positively.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, I can be ready in half an hour,” she said, leaving the table + abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Confound it, Phil; she'd rather stay here,” said Dickey, miserably. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am afraid of the consequences?” he asked, bitterly. She + looked at the white face and the set jaws and despaired. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You have promised to shield the rest,” he said, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I would not offer an explanation,” she said, decisively, as if that + settled everything. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't mention that man's name to me,” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean by—” she began, faintly, afraid to complete the dreaded + surmise. + </p> + <p> + “By the surrender of the real criminal,” he said, calmly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid they would doubt you,” he responded, but his heart leaped + gladly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “But you have promised to shield them!” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “One way or the other, Phil!” she cried, firmly. “It is safety for all or + disgrace for all. Now, will you go to Brussels?” + </p> + <p> + “But, my heavens, how can you explain to the world?” he cried, in deepest + distress. + </p> + <p> + “I have thought of all that. Providence gave me the solution,” she said, + her face beaming with the joy of victory. + </p> + <p> + “Not even Providence can supply an explanation,” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “You forget Courant, the dead man. He cannot deny the charge if I conclude + to accuse him of the crime. He is the solution!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXX. LOVE IS BLIND + </h2> + <p> + “But Ugo can disprove it,” he said, after a moment's thought. + </p> + <p> + “Only by confessing his own duplicity,” she said, tranquilly. + </p> + <p> + “You will not marry him, Dorothy?” + </p> + <p> + She looked him full in the eyes, and no word could have answered plainer + than the disdain which swept across her lovely face. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You will not forget that some day I am coming to you as Phil Quentin and + not in the mask of a bandit.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I implore the leniency of the high court,” he said, tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “The court can only put you on probation and exact the promise that you + will never steal another girl.” + </p> + <p> + “And the length of probation?” + </p> + <p> + “For all your natural life,” demurely. + </p> + <p> + “Then I must appeal to a higher court,” he said, soberly. + </p> + <p> + “What?” she cried. “Do you object to the judgment?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not seen one, but I'm sorry the time seems long,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “How delightful!” she cried, her eyes sparkling. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you care,” he exclaimed, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I should have said how frightful,” she corrected, contritely. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “And the poor horse seems so tired, too,” she said, serenely. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove! Didn't we cross a stream an hour or so ago?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “A horrid, splashy little stream? We crossed it long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” she asked, with a brave show of dismay. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. We're in a deuce of a pickle, don't you see?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I can't say that I do see,” she said. “Can't we drive back to the creek?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “If we should meet anyone else driving, what would happen?” she asked, + fearfully. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “There is a bend in the road up yonder, Phil,” she said. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe it,” she murmured. “We must be deceived by a strange + resem—” + </p> + <p> + “There is Bob himself! Good heavens, this paralyzes me! Hey, Bob! Bob!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Did you telegraph your mother you were coming?” asked Dickey Savage. + </p> + <p> + “We did not even see a telegraph wire,” answered Dorothy, dismally. + </p> + <p> + “What did you see?” he asked, maliciously, + </p> + <p> + “You should not ask confusing questions, Richard,” reprimanded Lady Jane, + with mock severity. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'll try it over again to-morrow,” decided Quentin, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” gasped Dickey, despairingly. + </p> + <p> + “It is all over,” said Quentin, his face rigid. + </p> + <p> + “What will they do?” demanded Dorothy, panic-stricken. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “They are searching for me, Father Bivot,” said Dorothy, resignedly. + </p> + <p> + “For you, my child?” in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “My God, Bob, this will ruin you and Lady Saxondale!” groaned Quentin. + “What can we do? Escape by the underground passage?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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: + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “He shall not have you, Dorothy,” cried Quentin. “He must kill me first.” + </p> + <p> + “Trust to Lord Saxondale's diplomacy, Phil,” she said, softly, as she + passed him on her way to the stairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXI. HER WAY + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” called Lord Bob, from the inside + </p> + <p> + “Are you Lord Saxondale?” demanded a guttural voice on the outside. + </p> + <p> + “I am. What is the meaning of this disturbance?” + </p> + <p> + “We are officers of the government, and we are looking for a person who is + within your walls. Open the gate, my lord.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be compelled to break down your gate, sir,” came from without, + gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Prince Ravorelli is with us, my lord. Is he sufficient guarantee?” asked + the hoarse voice. + </p> + <p> + “Is Giovanni Pavesi there, also?” asked Saxondale, loudly. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You know very well, Lord Saxondale,” said Ugo, now taking the lead. He + stood boldly, defiantly before the Englishman. + </p> + <p> + “Carmenita Malban is dead, your excellency,” said Bob, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you the authority to take her, if I refuse to obey?” asked the + other, with exasperating coolness. + </p> + <p> + “These officers have the authority to arrest you and to take her from your + hands, violently, if necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, that makes a difference, of course. Miss Garrison is here, + Prince Ravorelli, but I doubt your authority to take her away.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a reward for her, dead or alive,” said Count Sallaconi, + savagely. + </p> + <p> + “And for the abductors,” added the burly man from Luxemburg. “I shall have + to place you under arrest, my lord.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, my good man. Miss Garrison is her own mistress, I believe?” + addressing the prince. + </p> + <p> + “What has that to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “It is as I suspected,” he said, tersely. “I trust I am not too late to + save Miss Garrison from outrage.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I presume Brussels is very much excited over Miss Garrison's + disappearance,” said he to the livid-faced prince. + </p> + <p> + “Brussels is horrified, but she will rejoice tomorrow. Thank God, we have + not toiled in vain.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I am not her physician, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoity-toity! She is quite well, then, I may reasonably infer. Can you + tell me whether she is in Brussels?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that we are prisoners?” demanded Ugo, his teeth showing, but + not in a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. The door has a habit of locking itself.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be alarmed, gentlemen,” said Saxondale. “The door shall be opened + in good time. Ah, I think the ladies are coming.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy!” cried Ugo. “Thank heaven, I have found you!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “The wrong?” murmured the prince, mechanically. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I ran away with the man I love,” she answered, bravely. + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “The reward is for Dorothy Garrison, is it not?” demanded Saxondale. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lord.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to oppose the law?” cried Ugo, panting with rage. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Dorothy, my darling,” whispered Quentin. She turned her burning face + away. + </p> + <p> + “It is my way, Phil. I love you,” she murmured. + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Castle Craneycrow, by George Barr McCutcheon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CASTLE CRANEYCROW *** + +***** This file should be named 5349-h.htm or 5349-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/4/5349/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + + +</pre> + + </body> +</html> |