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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5756-h.zip b/5756-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e9c4c34 --- /dev/null +++ b/5756-h.zip diff --git a/5756-h/5756-h.htm b/5756-h/5756-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d23c81d --- /dev/null +++ b/5756-h/5756-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9730 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title>The Guest of Quesnay, by Booth Tarkington</title> + <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" /> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} + 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%;} + .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} + .x-small {font-size: 75%;} + .small {font-size: 85%;} + .large {font-size: 115%;} + .x-large {font-size: 130%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent25 { margin-left: 25%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + .indent35 { margin-left: 35%;} + .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} + 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 {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; + text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Guest of Quesnay, by Booth Tarkington + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Guest of Quesnay + +Author: Booth Tarkington + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5756] +First Posted: August 28, 2002 +Last Updated: August 3, 2018 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUEST OF QUESNAY *** + + + + +Etext produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE GUEST OF QUESNAY + </h1> + <h2> + By Booth Tarkington + </h2> + <h3> + 1915 + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + TO OVID BUTLER JAMESON + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + There are old Parisians who will tell you pompously that the boulevards, + like the political cafes, have ceased to exist, but this means only that + the boulevards no longer gossip of Louis Napoleon, the Return of the + Bourbons, or of General Boulanger, for these highways are always too + busily stirring with present movements not to be forgetful of their + yesterdays. In the shade of the buildings and awnings, the loungers, the + lookers-on in Paris, the audience of the boulevard, sit at little tables, + sipping coffee from long glasses, drinking absinthe or bright-coloured + sirops, and gazing over the heads of throngs afoot at others borne along + through the sunshine of the street in carriages, in cabs, in glittering + automobiles, or high on the tops of omnibuses. + </p> + <p> + From all the continents the multitudes come to join in that procession: + Americans, tagged with race-cards and intending hilarious disturbances; + puzzled Americans, worn with guide-book plodding; Chinese princes in silk; + queer Antillean dandies of swarthy origin and fortune; ruddy English, + thinking of nothing; pallid English, with upper teeth bared and eyes + hungrily searching for sign-boards of tea-rooms; over-Europeanised + Japanese, unpleasantly immaculate; burnoosed sheiks from the desert, and + red-fezzed Semitic peddlers; Italian nobles in English tweeds; Soudanese + negroes swaggering in frock coats; slim Spaniards, squat Turks, + travellers, idlers, exiles, fugitives, sportsmen—all the tribes and + kinds of men are tributary here to the Parisian stream which, on a fair + day in spring, already overflows the banks with its own much-mingled + waters. Soberly clad burgesses, bearded, amiable, and in no fatal hurry; + well-kept men of the world swirling by in miraculous limousines; legless + cripples flopping on hands and leather pads; thin-whiskered students in + velveteen; walrus-moustached veterans in broadcloth; keen-faced old + prelates; shabby young priests; cavalrymen in casque and cuirass; + workingmen turned horse and harnessed to carts; sidewalk jesters, + itinerant vendors of questionable wares; shady loafers dressed to resemble + gold-showering America; motor-cyclists in leather; hairy musicians, blue + gendarmes, baggy red zouaves; purple-faced, glazed-hatted, + scarlet-waistcoated, cigarette-smoking cabmen, calling one another “onions,” + “camels,” and names even more terrible. Women prevalent over + all the concourse; fair women, dark women, pretty women, gilded women, + haughty women, indifferent women, friendly women, merry women. Fine women + in fine clothes; rich women in fine clothes; poor women in fine clothes. + Worldly old women, reclining befurred in electric landaulettes; wordy old + women hoydenishly trundling carts full of flowers. Wonderful automobile + women quick-glimpsed, in multiple veils of white and brown and sea-green. + Women in rags and tags, and women draped, coifed, and befrilled in the + delirium of maddened poet-milliners and the hasheesh dreams of ladies’ + tailors. + </p> + <p> + About the procession, as it moves interminably along the boulevard, a blue + haze of fine dust and burnt gasoline rises into the sunshine like the haze + over the passages to an amphitheatre toward which a crowd is trampling; + and through this the multitudes seem to go as actors passing to their + cues. Your place at one of the little tables upon the sidewalk is that of + a wayside spectator: and as the performers go by, in some measure acting + or looking their parts already, as if in preparation, you guess the roles + they play, and name them comedians, tragedians, buffoons, saints, + beauties, sots, knaves, gladiators, acrobats, dancers; for all of these + are there, and you distinguish the principles from the unnumbered + supernumeraries pressing forward to the entrances. So, if you sit at the + little tables often enough—that is, if you become an amateur + boulevardier—you begin to recognise the transient stars of the + pageant, those to whom the boulevard allows a dubious and fugitive role of + celebrity, and whom it greets with a slight flutter: the turning of heads, + a murmur of comment, and the incredulous boulevard smile, which seems to + say: “You see? Madame and monsieur passing there—evidently + they think we still believe in them!” + </p> + <p> + This flutter heralded and followed the passing of a white touring-car with + the procession one afternoon, just before the Grand Prix, though it needed + no boulevard celebrity to make the man who lolled in the tonneau + conspicuous. Simply for THAT, notoriety was superfluous; so were the + remarkable size and power of his car; so was the elaborate touring-costume + of flannels and pongee he wore; so was even the enamelled presence of the + dancer who sat beside him. His face would have done it without + accessories. + </p> + <p> + My old friend, George Ward, and I had met for our aperitif at the Terrace + Larue, by the Madeleine, when the white automobile came snaking its way + craftily through the traffic. Turning in to pass a victoria on the wrong + side, it was forced down to a snail’s pace near the curb and not far + from our table, where it paused, checked by a blockade at the next corner. + I heard Ward utter a half-suppressed guttural of what I took to be + amazement, and I did not wonder. + </p> + <p> + The face of the man in the tonneau detached him to the spectator’s + gaze and singled him out of the concourse with an effect almost ludicrous + in its incongruity. The hair was dark, lustrous and thick, the forehead + broad and finely modelled, and certain other ruinous vestiges of youth and + good looks remained; but whatever the features might once have shown of + honour, worth, or kindly semblance had disappeared beyond all tracing in a + blurred distortion. The lids of one eye were discoloured and swollen + almost together; other traces of a recent battering were not lacking, nor + was cosmetic evidence of a heroic struggle, on the part of some valet of + infinite pains, to efface them. The nose lost outline in the + discolorations of the puffed cheeks; the chin, tufted with a small + imperial, trembled beneath a sagging, gray lip. And that this bruised and + dissipated mask should suffer the final grotesque touch, it was decorated + with the moustache of a coquettish marquis, the ends waxed and exquisitely + elevated. + </p> + <p> + The figure was fat, but loose and sprawling, seemingly without the will to + hold itself together; in truth the man appeared to be almost in a + semi-stupor, and, contrasted with this powdered Silenus, even the woman + beside him gained something of human dignity. At least, she was thoroughly + alive, bold, predatory, and in spite of the gross embon-point that + threatened her, still savagely graceful. A purple veil, dotted with gold, + floated about her hat, from which green-dyed ostrich plumes cascaded down + across a cheek enamelled dead white. Her hair was plastered in blue-black + waves, parted low on the forehead; her lips were splashed a startling + carmine, the eyelids painted blue; and, from between lashes gummed into + little spikes of blacking, she favoured her companion with a glance of + carelessly simulated tenderness,—a look all too vividly suggesting + the ghastly calculations of a cook wheedling a chicken nearer the kitchen + door. But I felt no great pity for the victim. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” I asked, staring at the man in the automobile and + not turning toward Ward. + </p> + <p> + “That is Mariana—‘la bella Mariana la Mursiana,’” + George answered; “—one of those women who come to Paris from + the tropics to form themselves on the legend of the one great famous and + infamous Spanish dancer who died a long while ago. Mariana did very well + for a time. I’ve heard that the revolutionary societies intend + striking medals in her honour: she’s done worse things to royalty + than all the anarchists in Europe! But her great days are over: she’s + getting old; that type goes to pieces quickly, once it begins to slump, + and it won’t be long before she’ll be horribly fat, though she’s + still a graceful dancer. She danced at the Folie Rouge last week.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, George,” I said gratefully. “I hope you’ll + point out the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower to me some day. I didn’t + mean Mariana.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you mean?” + </p> + <p> + What I had meant was so obvious that I turned to my friend in surprise. He + was nervously tapping his chin with the handle of his cane and staring at + the white automobile with very grim interest. + </p> + <p> + “I meant the man with her,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” He laughed sourly. “That carrion?” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be an acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + “Everybody on the boulevard knows who he is,” said Ward + curtly, paused, and laughed again with very little mirth. “So do + you,” he continued; “and as for my acquaintance with him—yes, + I had once the distinction of being his rival in a small way, a way so + small, in fact, that it ended in his becoming a connection of mine by + marriage. He’s Larrabee Harman.” + </p> + <p> + That was a name somewhat familiar to readers of American newspapers even + before its bearer was fairly out of college. The publicity it then + attained (partly due to young Harman’s conspicuous wealth) attached + to some youthful exploits not without a certain wild humour. But frolic + degenerated into brawl and debauch: what had been scrapes for the boy + became scandals for the man; and he gathered a more and more unsavoury + reputation until its like was not to be found outside a penitentiary. The + crux of his career in his own country was reached during a midnight + quarrel in Chicago when he shot a negro gambler. After that, the negro + having recovered and the matter being somehow arranged so that the + prosecution was dropped, Harman’s wife left him, and the papers + recorded her application for a divorce. She was George Ward’s second + cousin, the daughter of a Baltimore clergyman; a belle in a season and + town of belles, and a delightful, headstrong creature, from all accounts. + She had made a runaway match of it with Harman three years before, their + affair having been earnestly opposed by all her relatives—especially + by poor George, who came over to Paris just after the wedding in a + miserable frame of mind. + </p> + <p> + The Chicago exploit was by no means the end of Harman’s notoriety. + Evading an effort (on the part of an aunt, I believe) to get him locked up + safely in a “sanitarium,” he began a trip round the world with + an orgy which continued from San Francisco to Bangkok, where, in the + company of some congenial fellow travellers, he interfered in a native + ceremonial with the result that one of his companions was drowned. + Proceeding, he was reported to be in serious trouble at Constantinople, + the result of an inquisitiveness little appreciated by Orientals. The + State Department, bestirring itself, saved him from a very real peril, and + he continued his journey. In Rome he was rescued with difficulty from a + street mob that unreasonably refused to accept intoxication as an excuse + for his riding down a child on his way to the hunt. Later, during the + winter just past, we had been hearing from Monte Carlo of his disastrous + plunges at that most imbecile of all games, roulette. + </p> + <p> + Every event, no matter how trifling, in this man’s pitiful career + had been recorded in the American newspapers with an elaboration which, + for my part, I found infuriatingly tiresome. I have lived in Paris so long + that I am afraid to go home: I have too little to show for my years of + pottering with paint and canvas, and I have grown timid about all the + changes that have crept in at home. I do not know the “new men,” + I do not know how they would use me, and fear they might make no place for + me; and so I fit myself more closely into the little grooves I have worn + for myself, and resign myself to stay. But I am no “expatriate.” + I know there is a feeling at home against us who remain over here to do + our work, but in most instances it is a prejudice which springs from a + misunderstanding. I think the quality of patriotism in those of us who + “didn’t go home in time” is almost pathetically deep and + real, and, like many another oldish fellow in my position, I try to keep + as close to things at home as I can. All of my old friends gradually + ceased to write to me, but I still take three home newspapers, trying to + follow the people I knew and the things that happen; and the ubiquity of + so worthless a creature as Larrabee Harman in the columns I dredged for + real news had long been a point of irritation to this present exile. Not + only that: he had usurped space in the Continental papers, and of late my + favourite Parisian journal had served him to me with my morning coffee, + only hinting his name, but offering him with that gracious satire + characteristic of the Gallic journalist writing of anything American. And + so this grotesque wreck of a man was well known to the boulevard—one + of its sights. That was to be perceived by the flutter he caused, by the + turning of heads in his direction, and the low laughter of the people at + the little tables. Three or four in the rear ranks had risen to their feet + to get a better look at him and his companion. + </p> + <p> + Some one behind us chuckled aloud. “They say Mariana beats him.” + </p> + <p> + “Evidently!” + </p> + <p> + The dancer was aware of the flutter, and called Harman’s attention + to it with a touch upon his arm and a laugh and a nod of her violent + plumage. + </p> + <p> + At that he seemed to rouse himself somewhat: his head rolled heavily over + upon his shoulder, the lids lifted a little from the red-shot eyes, + showing a strange pride when his gaze fell upon the many staring faces. + </p> + <p> + Then, as the procession moved again and the white automobile with it, the + sottish mouth widened in a smile of dull and cynical contempt: the look of + a half-poisoned Augustan borne down through the crowds from the Palatine + after supping with Caligula. + </p> + <p> + Ward pulled my sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he said, “let us go over to the Luxembourg + gardens where the air is cleaner.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + Ward is a portrait-painter, and in the matter of vogue there seem to be no + pinnacles left for him to surmount. I think he has painted most of the + very rich women of fashion who have come to Paris of late years, and he + has become so prosperous, has such a polite celebrity, and his opinions + upon art are so conclusively quoted, that the friendship of some of us who + started with him has been dangerously strained. + </p> + <p> + He lives a well-ordered life; he has always led that kind of life. Even in + his student days when I first knew him, I do not remember an occasion upon + which the principal of a New England high-school would have criticised his + conduct. And yet I never heard anyone call him a prig; and, so far as I + know, no one was ever so stupid as to think him one. He was a quiet, + good-looking, well-dressed boy, and he matured into a somewhat reserved, + well-poised man, of impressive distinction in appearance and manner. He + has always been well tended and cared for by women; in his student days + his mother lived with him; his sister, Miss Elizabeth, looks after him + now. She came with him when he returned to Paris after his disappointment + in the unfortunate Harman affair, and she took charge of all his business—as + well as his social—arrangements (she has been accused of a theory + that the two things may be happily combined), making him lease a house in + an expensively modish quarter near the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. Miss + Elizabeth is an instinctively fashionable woman, practical withal, and to + her mind success should be not only respectable but “smart.” + She does not speak of the “right bank” and the “left + bank” of the Seine; she calls them the “right bank” and + the “wrong bank.” And yet, though she removed George (her word + is “rescued”) from many of his old associations with + Montparnasse, she warmly encouraged my friendship with him—yea, in + spite of my living so deep in the wrong bank that the first time he + brought her to my studio, she declared she hadn’t seen anything so + like Bring-the-child-to-the-old-hag’s-cellar-at-midnight since her + childhood. She is a handsome woman, large, and of a fine, high colour; her + manner is gaily dictatorial, and she and I got along very well together. + </p> + <p> + Probably she appreciated my going to some pains with the clothes I wore + when I went to their house. My visits there were infrequent, not because I + had any fear of wearing out a welcome, but on account of Miss Elizabeth’s + “day,” when I could see nothing of George for the crowd of + lionising women and time-wasters about him. Her “day” was a + dread of mine; I could seldom remember which day it was, and when I did + she had a way of shifting it so that I was fatally sure to run into it—to + my misery, for, beginning with those primordial indignities suffered in + youth, when I was scrubbed with a handkerchief outside the parlour door as + a preliminary to polite usages, my childhood’s, manhood’s + prayer has been: From all such days, Good Lord, deliver me! + </p> + <p> + It was George’s habit to come much oftener to see me. He always + really liked the sort of society his sister had brought about him; but now + and then there were intervals when it wore on him a little, I think. + Sometimes he came for me in his automobile and we would make a mild + excursion to breakfast in the country; and that is what happened one + morning about three weeks after the day when we had sought pure air in the + Luxembourg gardens. + </p> + <p> + We drove out through the Bois and by Suresnes, striking into a roundabout + road to Versailles beyond St. Cloud. It was June, a dustless and balmy + noon, the air thinly gilded by a faint haze, and I know few things + pleasanter than that road on a fair day of the early summer and no sweeter + way to course it than in an open car; though I must not be giving myself + out for a “motorist”—I have not even the right cap. I am + usually nervous in big machines, too; but Ward has never caught the speed + mania and holds a strange power over his chauffeur; so we rolled along + peacefully, not madly, and smoked (like the car) in hasteless content. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” said George, with a placid wave of the hand, + “I sometimes wish that the landscape had called me. You outdoor men + have all the health and pleasure of living in the open, and as for the + work—oh! you fellows think you work, but you don’t know what + it means.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” I said, and smiled as I always meanly do when George + “talks art.” He was silent for a few moments and then said + irritably, + </p> + <p> + “Well, at least you can’t deny that the academic crowd can + DRAW!” + </p> + <p> + Never having denied it, though he had challenged me in the same way + perhaps a thousand times, I refused to deny it now; whereupon he returned + to his theme: “Landscape is about as simple as a stage fight; two + up, two down, cross and repeat. Take that ahead of us. Could anything be + simpler to paint?” + </p> + <p> + He indicated the white road running before us between open fields to a + curve, where it descended to pass beneath an old stone culvert. Beyond, + stood a thick grove with a clear sky flickering among the branches. An old + peasant woman was pushing a heavy cart round the curve, a scarlet + handkerchief knotted about her head. + </p> + <p> + “You think it’s easy?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Easy! Two hours ought to do it as well as it could be done—at + least, the way you fellows do it!” He clenched his fingers as if + upon the handle of a house-painter’s brush. “Slap, dash—there’s + your road.” He paddled the air with the imaginary brush as though + painting the side of a barn. “Swish, swash—there go your + fields and your stone bridge. Fit! Speck! And there’s your old + woman, her red handkerchief, and what your dealer will probably call + ‘the human interest,’ all complete. Squirt the edges of your + foliage in with a blow-pipe. Throw a cup of tea over the whole, and there’s + your haze. Call it ‘The Golden Road,’ or ‘The Bath of + Sunlight,’ or ‘Quiet Noon.’ Then you’ll probably + get a criticism beginning, ‘Few indeed have more intangibly detained + upon canvas so poetic a quality of sentiment as this sterling landscapist, + who in Number 136 has most ethereally expressed the profound silence of + evening on an English moor. The solemn hush, the brooding quiet, the + homeward ploughman—‘” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by an outrageous uproar, the grisly scream of a siren + and the cannonade of a powerful exhaust, as a great white touring-car + swung round us from behind at a speed that sickened me to see, and, + snorting thunder, passed us “as if we had been standing still.” + </p> + <p> + It hurtled like a comet down the curve and we were instantly choking in + its swirling tail of dust. + </p> + <p> + “Seventy miles an hour!” gasped George, swabbing at his eyes. + “Those are the fellows that get into the pa—Oh, Lord! THERE + they go!” + </p> + <p> + Swinging out to pass us and then sweeping in upon the reverse curve to + clear the narrow arch of the culvert were too much for the white car; and + through the dust we saw it rock dangerously. In the middle of the road, + ten feet from the culvert, the old woman struggled frantically to get her + cart out of the way. The howl of the siren frightened her perhaps, for she + lost her head and went to the wrong side. Then the shriek of the machine + drowned the human scream as the automobile struck. + </p> + <p> + The shock of contact was muffled. But the mass of machinery hoisted itself + in the air as if it had a life of its own and had been stung into sudden + madness. It was horrible to see, and so grotesque that a long-forgotten + memory of my boyhood leaped instantaneously into my mind, a recollection + of the evolutions performed by a Newfoundland dog that rooted under a + board walk and found a hive of wild bees. + </p> + <p> + The great machine left the road for the fields on the right, reared, fell, + leaped against the stone side of the culvert, apparently trying to climb + it, stood straight on end, whirled backward in a half-somersault, crashed + over on its side, flashed with flame and explosion, and lay hidden under a + cloud of dust and smoke. + </p> + <p> + Ward’s driver slammed down his accelerator, sent us spinning round + the curve, and the next moment, throwing on his brakes, halted sharply at + the culvert. + </p> + <p> + The fabric of the road was so torn and distorted one might have thought a + steam dredge had begun work there, but the fragments of wreckage were + oddly isolated and inconspicuous. The peasant’s cart, tossed into a + clump of weeds, rested on its side, the spokes of a rimless wheel slowly + revolving on the hub uppermost. Some tools were strewn in a semi-circular + trail in the dust; a pair of smashed goggles crunched beneath my foot as I + sprang out of Ward’s car, and a big brass lamp had fallen in the + middle of the road, crumpled like waste paper. Beside it lay a gold rouge + box. + </p> + <p> + The old woman had somehow saved herself—or perhaps her saint had + helped her—for she was sitting in the grass by the roadside, wailing + hysterically and quite unhurt. The body of a man lay in a heap beneath the + stone archway, and from his clothes I guessed that he had been the driver + of the white car. I say “had been” because there were reasons + for needing no second glance to comprehend that the man was dead. + Nevertheless, I knelt beside him and placed my hand upon his breast to see + if his heart still beat. Afterward I concluded that I did this because I + had seen it done upon the stage, or had read of it in stories; and even at + the time I realised that it was a silly thing for me to be doing. + </p> + <p> + Ward, meanwhile, proved more practical. He was dragging a woman out of the + suffocating smoke and dust that shrouded the wreck, and after a moment I + went to help him carry her into the fresh air, where George put his coat + under her head. Her hat had been forced forward over her face and held + there by the twisting of a system of veils she wore; and we had some + difficulty in unravelling this; but she was very much alive, as a series + of muffled imprecations testified, leading us to conclude that her + sufferings were more profoundly of rage than of pain. Finally she pushed + our hands angrily aside and completed the untanglement herself, revealing + the scratched and smeared face of Mariana, the dancer. + </p> + <p> + “Cornichon! Chameau! Fond du bain!” she gasped, tears of anger + starting from her eyes. She tried to rise before we could help her, but + dropped back with a scream. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the pain!” she cried. “That imbecile! If he has let + me break my leg! A pretty dancer I should be! I hope he is killed.” + </p> + <p> + One of the singularities of motoring on the main-travelled roads near + Paris is the prevalence of cars containing physicians and surgeons. + Whether it be testimony to the opportunism, to the sporting proclivities, + or to the prosperity of gentlemen of those professions, I do not know, but + it is a fact that I have never heard of an accident (and in the season + there is an accident every day) on one of these roads when a doctor in an + automobile was not almost immediately a chance arrival, and fortunately + our case offered no exception to this rule. Another automobile had already + come up and the occupants were hastily alighting. Ward shouted to the + foremost to go for a doctor. + </p> + <p> + “I am a doctor,” the man answered, advancing and kneeling + quickly by the dancer. “And you—you may be of help yonder.” + </p> + <p> + We turned toward the ruined car where Ward’s driver was shouting for + us. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” called Ward as we ran toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he replied, “there is some one under the + tonneau here!” + </p> + <p> + The smoke had cleared a little, though a rivulet of burning gasoline ran + from the wreck to a pool of flame it was feeding in the road. The front + cushions and woodwork had caught fire and a couple of labourers, panting + with the run across the fields, were vainly belabouring the flames with + brushwood. From beneath the overturned tonneau projected the lower part of + a man’s leg, clad in a brown puttee and a russet shoe. Ward’s + driver had brought his tools; had jacked up the car as high as possible; + but was still unable to release the imprisoned body. + </p> + <p> + “I have seized that foot and pulled with all my strength,” he + said, “and I cannot make him move one centimetre. It is necessary + that as many people as possible lay hold of the car on the side away from + the fire and all lift together. Yes,” he added, “and very + soon!” + </p> + <p> + Some carters had come from the road and one of them lay full length on the + ground peering beneath the wreck. “It is the head of monsieur,” + explained this one; “it is the head of monsieur which is fastened + under there.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, but you are wiser than Clemenceau!” said the chauffeur. + “Get up, my ancient, and you there, with the brushwood, let the fire + go for a moment and help, when I say the word. And you, monsieur,” + he turned to Ward, “if you please, will you pull with me upon the + ankle here at the right moment?” + </p> + <p> + The carters, the labourers, the men from the other automobile, and I laid + hold of the car together. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, messieurs, LIFT!” + </p> + <p> + Stifled with the gasoline smoke, we obeyed. One or two hands were scorched + and our eyes smarted blindingly, but we gave a mighty heave, and felt the + car rising. + </p> + <p> + “Well done!” cried the chauffeur. “Well done! But a + little more! The smallest fraction—HA! It is finished, messieurs!” + </p> + <p> + We staggered back, coughing and wiping our eyes. For a minute or two I + could not see at all, and was busy with a handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + Ward laid his hand on my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know who it is?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + When I could see again, I found that I was looking almost straight down + into the upturned face of Larrabee Harman, and I cannot better express + what this man had come to be, and what the degradation of his life had + written upon him, than by saying that the dreadful thing I looked upon now + was no more horrible a sight than the face I had seen, fresh from the + valet and smiling in ugly pride at the starers, as he passed the terrace + of Larue on the day before the Grand Prix. + </p> + <p> + We helped to carry him to the doctor’s car, and to lift the dancer + into Ward’s, and to get both of them out again at the hospital at + Versailles, where they were taken. Then, with no need to ask each other if + we should abandon our plan to breakfast in the country, we turned toward + Paris, and rolled along almost to the barriers in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Did it seem to you,” said George finally, “that a man + so frightfully injured could have any chance of getting well?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I answered. “I thought he was dying as we carried + him into the hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “So did I. The top of his head seemed all crushed in—Whew!” + He broke off, shivering, and wiped his brow. After a pause he added + thoughtfully, “It will be a great thing for Louise.” + </p> + <p> + Louise was the name of his second cousin, the girl who had done battle + with all her family and then run away from them to be Larrabee Harman’s + wife. Remembering the stir that her application for divorce had made, I + did not understand how Harman’s death could benefit her, unless + George had some reason to believe that he had made a will in her favour. + However, the remark had been made more to himself than to me and I did not + respond. + </p> + <p> + The morning papers flared once more with the name of Larrabee Harman, and + we read that there was “no hope of his surviving.” Ironic + phrase! There was not a soul on earth that day who could have hoped for + his recovery, or who—for his sake—cared two straws whether he + lived or died. And the dancer had been right; one of her legs was badly + broken: she would never dance again. + </p> + <p> + Evening papers reported that Harman was “lingering.” He was + lingering the next day. He was lingering the next week, and the end of a + month saw him still “lingering.” Then I went down to Capri, + where—for he had been after all the merest episode to me—I was + pleased to forget all about him. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + A great many people keep their friends in mind by writing to them, but + more do not; and Ward and I belong to the majority. After my departure + from Paris I had but one missive from him, a short note, written at the + request of his sister, asking me to be on the lookout for Italian + earrings, to add to her collection of old jewels. So, from time to time, I + sent her what I could find about Capri or in Naples, and she responded + with neat little letters of acknowledgment. + </p> + <p> + Two years I stayed on Capri, eating the lotus which grows on that happy + island, and painting very little—only enough, indeed, to be + remembered at the Salon and not so much as knowing how kindly or unkindly + they hung my pictures there. But even on Capri, people sometimes hear the + call of Paris and wish to be in that unending movement: to hear the + multitudinous rumble, to watch the procession from a cafe terrace and to + dine at Foyot’s. So there came at last a fine day when I, knowing + that the horse-chestnuts were in bloom along the Champs Elysees, threw my + rope-soled shoes to a beggar, packed a rusty trunk, and was off for the + banks of the Seine. + </p> + <p> + My arrival—just the drive from the Gare de Lyon to my studio—was + like the shock of surf on a bather’s breast. + </p> + <p> + The stir and life, the cheerful energy of the streets, put stir and life + and cheerful energy into me. I felt the itch to work again, to be at it, + at it in earnest—to lose no hour of daylight, and to paint better + than I had painted! + </p> + <p> + Paris having given me this impetus, I dared not tempt her further, nor + allow the edge of my eagerness time to blunt; therefore, at the end of a + fortnight, I went over into Normandy and deposited that rusty trunk of + mine in a corner of the summer pavilion in the courtyard of Madame + Brossard’s inn, Les Trois Pigeons, in a woodland neighborhood that + is there. Here I had painted through a prolific summer of my youth, and I + was glad to find—as I had hoped—nothing changed; for the place + was dear to me. Madame Brossard (dark, thin, demure as of yore, a + fine-looking woman with a fine manner and much the flavour of old Norman + portraits) gave me a pleasant welcome, remembering me readily but without + surprise, while Amedee, the antique servitor, cackled over me and was as + proud of my advent as if I had been a new egg and he had laid me. The + simile is grotesque; but Amedee is the most henlike waiter in France. + </p> + <p> + He is a white-haired, fat old fellow, always well-shaved; as neat as a + billiard-ball. In the daytime, when he is partly porter, he wears a black + tie, a gray waistcoat broadly striped with scarlet, and, from waist to + feet, a white apron like a skirt, and so competently encircling that his + trousers are of mere conventionality and no real necessity; but after six + o’clock (becoming altogether a maitre d’hotel) he is clad as + any other formal gentleman. At all times he wears a fresh table-cloth over + his arm, keeping an exaggerated pile of them ready at hand on a ledge in + one of the little bowers of the courtyard, so that he may never be shamed + by getting caught without one. + </p> + <p> + His conception of life is that all worthy persons were created as + receptacles for food and drink; and five minutes after my arrival he had + me seated (in spite of some meek protests) in a wicker chair with a + pitcher of the right Three Pigeons cider on the table before me, while he + subtly dictated what manner of dinner I should eat. For this interval + Amedee’s exuberance was sobered and his badinage dismissed as being + mere garniture, the questions now before us concerning grave and inward + matters. His suggestions were deferential but insistent; his manner was + that of a prime minister who goes through the form of convincing the + sovereign. He greeted each of his own decisions with a very loud “Bien!” + as if startled by the brilliancy of my selections, and, the menu being + concluded, exploded a whole volley of “Biens” and set off + violently to instruct old Gaston, the cook. + </p> + <p> + That is Amedee’s way; he always starts violently for anywhere he + means to go. He is a little lame and his progress more or less sidelong, + but if you call him, or new guests arrive at the inn, or he receives an + order from Madame Brossard, he gives the effect of running by a sudden + movement of the whole body like that of a man ABOUT to run, and moves off + using the gestures of a man who IS running; after which he proceeds to his + destination at an exquisite leisure. Remembering this old habit of his, it + was with joy that I noted his headlong departure. Some ten feet of his + progress accomplished, he halted (for no purpose but to scratch his head + the more luxuriously); next, strayed from the path to contemplate a + rose-bush, and, selecting a leaf with careful deliberation, placed it in + his mouth and continued meditatively upon his way to the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + I chuckled within me; it was good to be back at Madame Brossard’s. + </p> + <p> + The courtyard was more a garden; bright with rows of flowers in formal + little beds and blossoming up from big green tubs, from red jars, and also + from two brightly painted wheel-barrows. A long arbour offered a shelter + of vines for those who might choose to dine, breakfast, or lounge beneath, + and, here and there among the shrubberies, you might come upon a latticed + bower, thatched with straw. My own pavilion (half bedroom, half studio) + was set in the midst of all and had a small porch of its own with a rich + curtain of climbing honeysuckle for a screen from the rest of the + courtyard. + </p> + <p> + The inn itself is gray with age, the roof sagging pleasantly here and + there; and an old wooden gallery runs the length of each wing, the + guest-chambers of the upper story opening upon it like the deck-rooms of a + steamer, with boxes of tulips and hyacinths along the gallery railings and + window ledges for the gayest of border-lines. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the great open archway, which gives entrance to the courtyard, lies + the quiet country road; passing this, my eyes followed the wide sweep of + poppy-sprinkled fields to a line of low green hills; and there was the + edge of the forest sheltering those woodland interiors which I had long + ago tried to paint, and where I should be at work to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + In the course of time, and well within the bright twilight, Amedee spread + the crisp white cloth and served me at a table on my pavilion porch. He + feigned anxiety lest I should find certain dishes (those which he knew + were most delectable) not to my taste, but was obviously so distended with + fatuous pride over the whole meal that it became a temptation to denounce + at least some trifling sauce or garnishment; nevertheless, so much + mendacity proved beyond me and I spared him and my own conscience. This + puffed-uppedness of his was to be observed only in his expression of + manner, for during the consumption of food it was his worthy custom to + practise a ceremonious, nay, a reverential, hush, and he never offered (or + approved) conversation until he had prepared the salad. That accomplished, + however, and the water bubbling in the coffee machine, he readily favoured + me with a discourse on the decline in glory of Les Trois Pigeons. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it is the automobiles; they have done it. Formerly, as + when monsieur was here, the painters came from Paris. They would come in + the spring and would stay until the autumn rains. What busy times and what + drolleries! Ah, it was gay in those days! Monsieur remembers well. Ha, Ha! + But now, I think, the automobiles have frightened away the painters; at + least they do not come any more. And the automobiles themselves; they come + sometimes for lunch, a few, but they love better the seashore, and we are + just close enough to be too far away. Those automobiles, they love the big + new hotels and the casinos with roulette. They eat hastily, gulp down a + liqueur, and pouf! off they rush for Trouville, for Houlgate—for + heaven knows where! And even the automobiles do not come so frequently as + they did. Our road used to be the best from Lisieux to Beuzeval, but now + the maps recommend another. They pass us by, and yet yonder—only a + few kilometres—is the coast with its thousands. We are near the + world but out of it, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + He poured my coffee; dropped a lump of sugar from the tongs with a + benevolent gesture—“One lump: always the same. Monsieur sees + that I remember well, ha?”—and the twilight having fallen, he + lit two orange-shaded candles and my cigar with the same match. The night + was so quiet that the candle-lights burned as steadily as flames in a + globe, yet the air was spiced with a cool fragrance, and through the + honeysuckle leaves above me I saw, as I leaned back in my wicker chair, a + glimmer of kindly stars. + </p> + <p> + “Very comfortably out of the world, Amedee,” I said. “It + seems to me I have it all to myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Unhappily, yes!” he exclaimed; then excused himself, + chuckling. “I should have said that we should be happier if we had + many like monsieur. But it is early in the season to despair. Then, too, + our best suite is already engaged.” + </p> + <p> + “By whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Two men of science who arrive next week. One is a great man. Madame + Brossard is pleased that he is coming to Les Trois Pigeons, but I tell her + it is only natural. He comes now for the first time because he likes the + quiet, but he will come again, like monsieur, because he has been here + before. That is what I always say: ‘Any one who has been here must + come again.’ The problem is only to get them to come the first time. + Truly!” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the great man, Amedee?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! A distinguished professor of science. Truly.” + </p> + <p> + “What science?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. But he is a member of the Institute. Monsieur must + have heard of that great Professor Keredec?” + </p> + <p> + “The name is known. Who is the other?” + </p> + <p> + “A friend of his. I do not know. All the upper floor of the east + wing they have taken—the Grande Suite—those two and their + valet-de-chambre. That is truly the way in modern times—the + philosophers are rich men.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I sighed. “Only the painters are poor nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha, monsieur!” Amedee laughed cunningly. + </p> + <p> + “It was always easy to see that monsieur only amuses himself with + his painting.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Amedee,” I responded. “I have amused other + people with it too, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, without doubt!” he agreed graciously, as he folded the + cloth. I have always tried to believe that it was not so much my pictures + as the fact that I paid my bills the day they were presented which + convinced everybody about Les Trois Pigeons that I was an amateur. But I + never became happily enough settled in this opinion to risk pressing an + investigation; and it was a relief that Amedee changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur remembers the Chateau de Quesnay—at the crest of the + hill on the road north of Dives?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “It is occupied this season by some rich Americans.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know they are rich?” + </p> + <p> + “Dieu de Dieu!” The old fellow appealed to heaven. “But + they are Americans!” + </p> + <p> + “And therefore millionaires. Perfectly, Amedee.” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, monsieur. Perhaps monsieur knows them.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know them.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly!” He affected dejection. “And poor Madame + Brossard thought monsieur had returned to our old hotel because he liked + it, and remembered our wine of Beaune and the good beds and old Gaston’s + cooking!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not weep, Amedee,” I said. “I have come to paint; + not because I know the people who have taken Quesnay.” And I added: + “I may not see them at all.” + </p> + <p> + In truth I thought that very probable. Miss Elizabeth had mentioned in one + of her notes that Ward had leased Quesnay, but I had not sought quarters + at Les Trois Pigeons because it stood within walking distance of the + chateau. In my industrious frame of mind that circumstance seemed almost a + drawback. Miss Elizabeth, ever hospitable to those whom she noticed at + all, would be doubly so in the country, as people always are; and I wanted + all my time to myself—no very selfish wish since my time was not + conceivably of value to any one else. I thought it wise to leave any + encounter with the lady to chance, and as the by-paths of the country-side + were many and intricate, I intended, without ungallantry, to render the + chance remote. George himself had just sailed on a business trip to + America, as I knew from her last missive; and until his return, I should + put in all my time at painting and nothing else, though I liked his + sister, as I have said, and thought of her—often. + </p> + <p> + Amedee doubted my sincerity, however, for he laughed incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, well, monsieur enjoys saying it!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. It is a pleasure to say what one means.” + </p> + <p> + “But monsieur could not mean it. Monsieur will call at the chateau + in the morning”—the complacent varlet prophesied—“as + early as it will be polite. I am sure of that. Monsieur is not at all an + old man; no, not yet! Even if he were, aha! no one could possess the + friendship of that wonderful Madame d’Armand and remain away from + the chateau.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame d’Armand?” I said. “That is not the name. + You mean Mademoiselle Ward.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” He shook his head and his fat cheeks bulged with a + smile which I believe he intended to express a respectful roguishness. + “Mademoiselle Ward” (he pronounced it “Ware”) + “is magnificent; every one must fly to obey when she opens her + mouth. If she did not like the ocean there below the chateau, the ocean + would have to move! It needs only a glance to perceive that Mademoiselle + Ward is a great lady—but MADAME D’ARMAND! AHA!” He + rolled his round eyes to an effect of unspeakable admiration, and with a + gesture indicated that he would have kissed his hand to the stars, had + that been properly reverential to Madame d’Armand. “But + monsieur knows very well for himself!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur knows that you are very confusing—even for a maitre + d’hotel. We were speaking of the present chatelaine of Quesnay, + Mademoiselle Ward. I have never heard of Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is serious?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly!” I answered, making bold to quote his shibboleth. + </p> + <p> + “Then monsieur has truly much to live for. Truly!” he chuckled + openly, convinced that he had obtained a marked advantage in a conflict of + wits, shaking his big head from side to side with an exasperating air of + knowingness. “Ah, truly! When that lady drives by, some day, in the + carriage from the chateau—eh? Then monsieur will see how much he has + to live for. Truly, truly, truly!” + </p> + <p> + He had cleared the table, and now, with a final explosion of the word + which gave him such immoderate satisfaction, he lifted the tray and made + one of his precipitate departures. + </p> + <p> + “Amedee,” I said, as he slackened down to his sidelong + leisure. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Who is Madame d’Armand?” + </p> + <p> + “A guest of Mademoiselle Ward at Quesnay. In fact, she is in charge + of the chateau, since Mademoiselle Ward is, for the time, away.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she a Frenchwoman?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems not. In fact, she is an American, though she dresses with + so much of taste. Ah, Madame Brossard admits it, and Madame Brossard knows + the art of dressing, for she spends a week of every winter in Rouen—and + besides there is Trouville itself only some kilometres distant. Madame + Brossard says that Mademoiselle Ward dresses with richness and splendour + and Madame d’Armand with economy, but beauty. Those were the words + used by Madame Brossard. Truly.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame d’Armand’s name is French,” I observed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true,” said Amedee thoughtfully. “No one + can deny it; it is a French name.” He rested the tray upon a stump + near by and scratched his head. “I do not understand how that can + be,” he continued slowly. “Jean Ferret, who is chief gardener + at the chateau, is an acquaintance of mine. We sometimes have a cup of + cider at Pere Baudry’s, a kilometre down the road from here; and + Jean Ferret has told me that she is an American. And yet, as you say, + monsieur, the name is French. Perhaps she is French after all.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe,” said I, “that if I struggled a few days + over this puzzle, I might come to the conclusion that Madame d’Armand + is an American lady who has married a Frenchman.” + </p> + <p> + The old man uttered an exclamation of triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! without doubt! Truly she must be an American lady who has + married a Frenchman. Monsieur has already solved the puzzle. Truly, truly!” + And he trulied himself across the darkness, to emerge in the light of the + open door of the kitchen with the word still rumbling in his throat. + </p> + <p> + Now for a time there came the clinking of dishes, sounds as of pans and + kettles being scoured, the rolling gutturals of old Gaston, the cook, and + the treble pipings of young “Glouglou,” his grandchild and + scullion. After a while the oblong of light from the kitchen door + disappeared; the voices departed; the stillness of the dark descended, and + with it that unreasonable sense of pathos which night in the country + brings to the heart of a wanderer. Then, out of the lonely silence, there + issued a strange, incongruous sound as an execrable voice essayed to + produce the semblance of an air odiously familiar about the streets of + Paris some three years past, and I became aware of a smell of some + dreadful thing burning. Beneath the arbour I perceived a glowing spark + which seemed to bear a certain relation to an oval whitish patch + suggesting the front of a shirt. It was Amedee, at ease, smoking his + cigarette after the day’s work and convinced that he was singing. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Pour qu’j’finisse + Mon service + Au Tonkin je suis parti— + Ah! quel beau pays, mesdames! + C’est l’paradis des p’tites femmes!” + </pre> + <p> + I rose from the chair on my little porch, to go to bed; but I was reminded + of something, and called to him. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur?” his voice came briskly. + </p> + <p> + “How often do you see your friend, Jean Ferret, the gardener of + Quesnay?” + </p> + <p> + “Frequently, monsieur. To-morrow morning I could easily carry a + message if—” + </p> + <p> + “That is precisely what I do not wish. And you may as well not + mention me at all when you meet him.” + </p> + <p> + “It is understood. Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is well understood, there will be a beautiful present for a + good maitre d’hotel some day.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, Amedee.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + Falling to sleep has always been an intricate matter with me: I liken it + to a nightly adventure in an enchanted palace. Weary-limbed and with + burning eyelids, after long waiting in the outer court of wakefulness, I + enter a dim, cool antechamber where the heavy garment of the body is left + behind and where, perhaps, some acquaintance or friend greets me with a + familiar speech or a bit of nonsense—or an unseen orchestra may play + music that I know. From here I go into a spacious apartment where the air + and light are of a fine clarity, for it is the hall of revelations, and in + it the secrets of secrets are told, mysteries are resolved, perplexities + cleared up, and sometimes I learn what to do about a picture that has + bothered me. This is where I would linger, for beyond it I walk among + crowding fantasies, delusions, terrors and shame, to a curtain of darkness + where they take my memory from me, and I know nothing of my own adventures + until I am pushed out of a secret door into the morning sunlight. Amedee + was the acquaintance who met me in the antechamber to-night. He remarked + that Madame d’Armand was the most beautiful woman in the world, and + vanished. And in the hall of revelations I thought that I found a statue + of her—but it was veiled. I wished to remove the veil, but a passing + stranger stopped and told me laughingly that the veil was all that would + ever be revealed of her to me—of her, or any other woman! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + I was up with the birds in the morning; had my breakfast with them—a + very drowsy-eyed Amedee assisting—and made off for the forest to get + the sunrise through the branches, a pack on my back and three sandwiches + for lunch in my pocket. I returned only with the failing light of evening, + cheerfully tired and ready for a fine dinner and an early bed, both of + which the good inn supplied. It was my daily programme; a healthy life + “far from the world,” as Amedee said, and I was sorry when the + serpent entered and disturbed it, though he was my own. He is a pet of + mine; has been with me since my childhood. He leaves me when I live alone, + for he loves company, but returns whenever my kind are about me. There are + many names for snakes of his breed, but, to deal charitably with myself, I + call mine Interest-In-Other-People’s-Affairs. + </p> + <p> + One evening I returned to find a big van from Dives, the nearest railway + station, drawn up in the courtyard at the foot of the stairs leading to + the gallery, and all of the people of the inn, from Madame Brossard (who + directed) to Glouglou (who madly attempted the heaviest pieces), busily + installing trunks, bags, and packing-cases in the suite engaged for the + “great man of science” on the second floor of the east wing of + the building. Neither the great man nor his companion was to be seen, + however, both having retired to their rooms immediately upon their arrival—so + Amedee informed me, as he wiped his brow after staggering up the steps + under a load of books wrapped in sacking. + </p> + <p> + I made my evening ablutions removing a Joseph’s coat of dust and + paint; and came forth from my pavilion, hoping that Professor Keredec and + his friend would not mind eating in the same garden with a man in a + corduroy jacket and knickerbockers; but the gentlemen continued invisible + to the public eye, and mine was the only table set for dinner in the + garden. Up-stairs the curtains were carefully drawn across all the windows + of the east wing; little leaks of orange, here and there, betraying the + lights within. Glouglou, bearing a tray of covered dishes, was just + entering the salon of the “Grande Suite,” and the door closed + quickly after him. + </p> + <p> + “It is to be supposed that Professor Keredec and his friend are + fatigued with their journey from Paris?” I began, a little later. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, they did not seem fatigued,” said Amedee. + </p> + <p> + “But they dine in their own rooms to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Every night, monsieur. It is the order of Professor Keredec. And + with their own valet-de-chambre to serve them. Eh?” He poured my + coffee solemnly. “That is mysterious, to say the least, isn’t + it?” + </p> + <p> + “To say the very least,” I agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur the professor is a man of secrets, it appears,” + continued Amedee. “When he wrote to Madame Brossard engaging his + rooms, he instructed her to be careful that none of us should mention even + his name; and to-day when he came, he spoke of his anxiety on that point.” + </p> + <p> + “But you did mention it.” + </p> + <p> + “To whom, monsieur?” asked the old fellow blankly. + </p> + <p> + “To me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I told him I had not,” said Amedee placidly. “It is + the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” I began, struck by a sudden thought, “if it + will prove quite the same thing in my own case. I suppose you have not + mentioned the circumstance of my being here to your friend, Jean Ferret of + Quesnay?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me reproachfully. “Has monsieur been troubled by the + people of the chateau?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Troubled’ by them?” + </p> + <p> + “Have they come to seek out monsieur and disturb him? Have they done + anything whatever to show that they have heard monsieur is here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, certainly they haven’t,” I was obliged to retract + at once. “I beg your pardon, Amedee.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, monsieur!” He made a deprecatory bow (which plunged me + still deeper in shame), struck a match, and offered a light for my cigar + with a forgiving hand. “All the same,” he pursued, “it + seems very mysterious—this Keredec affair!” + </p> + <p> + “To comprehend a great man, Amedee,” I said, “is the + next thing to sharing his greatness.” + </p> + <p> + He blinked slightly, pondered a moment upon this sententious drivel, then + very properly ignored it, reverting to his puzzle. + </p> + <p> + “But is it not incomprehensible that people should eat indoors this + fine weather?” + </p> + <p> + I admitted that it was. I knew very well how hot and stuffy the salon of + Madame Brossard’s “Grande Suite” must be, while the + garden was fragrant in the warm, dry night, and the outdoor air like a + gentle tonic. Nevertheless, Professor Keredec and his friend preferred the + salon. + </p> + <p> + When a man is leading a very quiet and isolated life, it is inconceivable + what trifles will occupy and concentrate his attention. The smaller the + community the more blowzy with gossip you are sure to find it; and I have + little doubt that when Friday learned enough English, one of the first + things Crusoe did was to tell him some scandal about the goat. Thus, + though I treated the “Keredec affair” with a seeming airiness + to Amedee, I cunningly drew the faithful rascal out, and fed my curiosity + upon his own (which, as time went on and the mystery deepened, seemed + likely to burst him), until, virtually, I was receiving, every evening at + dinner, a detailed report of the day’s doings of Professor Keredec + and his companion. + </p> + <p> + The reports were voluminous, the details few. The two gentlemen, as Amedee + would relate, spent their forenoons over books and writing in their rooms. + Professor Keredec’s voice could often be heard in every part of the + inn; at times holding forth with such protracted vehemence that only one + explanation would suffice: the learned man was delivering a lecture to his + companion. + </p> + <p> + “Say then!” exclaimed Amedee—“what king of madness + is that? To make orations for only one auditor!” + </p> + <p> + He brushed away my suggestion that the auditor might be a stenographer to + whom the professor was dictating chapters for a new book. The relation + between the two men, he contended, was more like that between teacher and + pupil. “But a pupil with gray hair!” he finished, raising his + fat hands to heaven. “For that other monsieur has hair as gray as + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “That other monsieur” was farther described as a thin man, + handsome, but with a “singular air,” nor could my colleague + more satisfactorily define this air, though he made a racking struggle to + do so. + </p> + <p> + “In what does the peculiarity of his manner lie?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “But it is not so much that his manner is peculiar, monsieur; it is + an air about him that is singular. Truly!” + </p> + <p> + “But how is it singular?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it is very, very singular.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand,” I insisted. “What kind of + singularity has the air of ‘that other monsieur’?” + </p> + <p> + “It has,” replied Amedee, with a powerful effort, “a + very singular singularity.” + </p> + <p> + This was as near as he could come, and, fearful of injuring him, I + abandoned that phase of our subject. + </p> + <p> + The valet-de-chambre whom my fellow-lodgers had brought with them from + Paris contributed nothing to the inn’s knowledge of his masters, I + learned. This struck me not only as odd, but unique, for French servants + tell one another everything, and more—very much more. “But + this is a silent man,” said Amedee impressively. “Oh! very + silent! He shakes his head wisely, yet he will not open his mouth. + However, that may be because”—and now the explanation came—“because + he was engaged only last week and knows nothing. Also, he is but + temporary; he returns to Paris soon and Glouglou is to serve them.” + </p> + <p> + I ascertained that although “that other monsieur” had gray + hair, he was by no means a person of great age; indeed, Glouglou, who had + seen him oftener than any other of the staff, maintained that he was quite + young. Amedee’s own opportunities for observation had been limited. + Every afternoon the two gentlemen went for a walk; but they always came + down from the gallery so quickly, he declared, and, leaving the inn by a + rear entrance, plunged so hastily into the nearest by-path leading to the + forest, that he caught little more than glimpses of them. They returned + after an hour or so, entering the inn with the same appearance of haste to + be out of sight, the professor always talking, “with the manner of + an orator, but in English.” Nevertheless, Amedee remarked, it was + certain that Professor Keredec’s friend was neither an American nor + an Englishman. “Why is it certain?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, he drinks nothing but water, he does not smoke, and + Glouglou says he speaks very pure French.” + </p> + <p> + “Glouglou is an authority who resolves the difficulty. ‘That + other monsieur’ is a Frenchman.” + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur, he is smooth-shaven.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he has been a maitre d’hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! I wish one that <i>I</i> know could hope to dress as well when + he retires! Besides, Glouglou says that other monsieur eats his soup + silently.” + </p> + <p> + “I can find no flaw in the deduction,” I said, rising to go to + bed. “We must leave it there for to-night.” + </p> + <p> + The next evening Amedee allowed me to perceive that he was concealing + something under his arm as he stoked the coffee-machine, and upon my + asking what it was, he glanced round the courtyard with histrionic + slyness, placed the object on the table beside my cap, and stepped back to + watch the impression, his manner that of one who declaims: “At last + the missing papers are before you!” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “It is a book.” + </p> + <p> + “I am persuaded by your candour, Amedee, as well as by the general + appearance of this article,” I returned as I picked it up, “that + you are speaking the truth. But why do you bring it to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he replied, in the tones of an old conspirator, + “this afternoon the professor and that other monsieur went as usual + to walk in the forest.” He bent over me, pretending to be busy with + the coffee-machine, and lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. “When + they returned, this book fell from the pocket of that other monsieur’s + coat as he ascended the stair, and he did not notice. Later I shall return + it by Glouglou, but I thought it wise that monsieur should see it for + himself.” + </p> + <p> + The book was Wentworth’s Algebra—elementary principles. + Painful recollections of my boyhood and the binomial theorem rose in my + mind as I let the leaves turn under my fingers. “What do you make of + it?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + His tone became even more confidential. “Part of it, monsieur, is in + English; that is plain. I have found an English word in it that I know—the + word ‘O.’ But much of the printing is also in Arabic.” + </p> + <p> + “Arabic!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur, look there.” He laid a fat forefinger on + “(a + b)2 = a2 + 2ab + b2.” “That is Arabic. Old Gaston + has been to Algeria, and he says that he knows Arabic as well as he does + French. He looked at the book and told me it was Arabic. Truly! Truly!” + </p> + <p> + “Did he translate any of it for you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur; his eyes pained him this afternoon. He says he will + read it to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “But you must return the book to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true. Eh! It leaves the mystery deeper than ever, unless + monsieur can find some clue in those parts of the book that are English.” + </p> + <p> + I shed no light upon him. The book had been Greek to me in my tender + years; it was a pleasure now to leave a fellow-being under the impression + that it was Arabic. + </p> + <p> + But the volume took its little revenge upon me, for it increased my + curiosity about Professor Keredec and “that other monsieur.” + Why were two grown men—one an eminent psychologist and the other a + gray-haired youth with a singular air—carrying about on their walks + a text-book for the instruction of boys of thirteen or fourteen? + </p> + <p> + The next day that curiosity of mine was piqued in earnest. It rained and I + did not leave the inn, but sat under the great archway and took notes in + colour of the shining road, bright drenched fields, and dripping sky. My + back was toward the courtyard, that is, “three-quarters” to + it, and about noon I became distracted from my work by a strong + self-consciousness which came upon me without any visible or audible + cause. Obeying an impulse, I swung round on my camp-stool and looked up + directly at the gallery window of the salon of the “Grande Suite.” + </p> + <p> + A man with a great white beard was standing at the window, half hidden by + the curtain, watching me intently. + </p> + <p> + He perceived that I saw him and dropped the curtain immediately, a speck + of colour in his buttonhole catching my eye as it fell. + </p> + <p> + The spy was Professor Keredec. + </p> + <p> + But why should he study me so slyly and yet so obviously? I had no + intention of intruding upon him. Nor was I a psychological “specimen,” + though I began to suspect that “that other monsieur” WAS. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + I had been painting in various parts of the forest, studying the early + morning along the eastern fringe and moving deeper in as the day advanced. + For the stillness and warmth of noon I went to the very woodland heart, + and in the late afternoon moved westward to a glade—a chance arena + open to the sky, the scene of my most audacious endeavours, for here I was + trying to paint foliage luminous under those long shafts of sunshine which + grow thinner but ruddier toward sunset. A path closely bordered by + underbrush wound its way to the glade, crossed it, then wandered away into + shady dingles again; and with my easel pitched in the mouth of this path, + I sat at work, one late afternoon, wonderful for its still loveliness. + </p> + <p> + The path debouched abruptly on the glade and was so narrow that when I + leaned back my elbows were in the bushes, and it needed care to keep my + palette from being smirched by the leaves; though there was more room for + my canvas and easel, as I had placed them at arm’s length before me, + fairly in the open. I had the ambition to paint a picture here—to do + the whole thing in the woods from day to day, instead of taking notes for + the studio—and was at work upon a very foolish experiment: I had + thought to render the light—broken by the branches and foliage—with + broken brush-work, a short stroke of the kind that stung an elder painter + to swear that its practitioners painted in shaking fear of the concierge + appearing for the studio rent. The attempt was alluring, but when I rose + from my camp-stool and stepped back into the path to get more distance for + my canvas, I saw what a mess I was making of it. At the same time, my + hand, falling into the capacious pocket of my jacket, encountered a + package, my lunch, which I had forgotten to eat, whereupon, becoming + suddenly aware that I was very hungry, I began to eat Amedee’s good + sandwiches without moving from where I stood. + </p> + <p> + Absorbed, gazing with abysmal disgust at my canvas, I was eating + absent-mindedly—and with all the restraint and dignity of a Georgia + darky attacking a watermelon—when a pleasant voice spoke from just + behind me. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, monsieur; permit me to pass, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + That was all it said, very quietly and in French, but a gunshot might have + startled me less. + </p> + <p> + I turned in confusion to behold a dark-eyed lady, charmingly dressed in + lilac and white, waiting for me to make way so that she could pass. + </p> + <p> + Nay, let me leave no detail of my mortification unrecorded: I have just + said that I “turned in confusion”; the truth is that I jumped + like a kangaroo, but with infinitely less grace. And in my nervous haste + to clear her way, meaning only to push the camp-stool out of the path with + my foot, I put too much valour into the push, and with horror saw the + camp-stool rise in the air and drop to the ground again nearly a third of + the distance across the glade. + </p> + <p> + Upon that I squeezed myself back into the bushes, my ears singing and my + cheeks burning. + </p> + <p> + There are women who will meet or pass a strange man in the woods or fields + with as finished an air of being unaware of him (particularly if he be a + rather shabby painter no longer young) as if the encounter took place on a + city sidewalk; but this woman was not of that priggish kind. Her + straightforward glance recognised my existence as a fellow-being; and she + further acknowledged it by a faint smile, which was of courtesy only, + however, and admitted no reference to the fact that at the first sound of + her voice I had leaped into the air, kicked a camp-stool twenty feet, and + now stood blushing, so shamefully stuffed with sandwich that I dared not + speak. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she said as she went by; and made me a little bow + so graceful that it almost consoled me for my caperings. + </p> + <p> + I stood looking after her as she crossed the clearing and entered the cool + winding of the path on the other side. + </p> + <p> + I stared and wished—wished that I could have painted her into my + picture, with the thin, ruddy sunshine flecking her dress; wished that I + had not cut such an idiotic figure. I stared until her filmy summer hat, + which was the last bit of her to disappear, had vanished. Then, + discovering that I still held the horrid remains of a sausage-sandwich in + my hand, I threw it into the underbrush with unnecessary force, and, + recovering my camp-stool, sat down to work again. + </p> + <p> + I did not immediately begin. + </p> + <p> + The passing of a pretty woman anywhere never comes to be quite of no + moment to a man, and the passing of a pretty woman in the greenwood is an + episode—even to a middle-aged landscape painter. + </p> + <p> + “An episode?” quoth I. I should be ashamed to withhold the + truth out of my fear to be taken for a sentimentalist: this woman who had + passed was of great and instant charm; it was as if I had heard a serenade + there in the woods—and at thought of the jig I had danced to it my + face burned again. + </p> + <p> + With a sigh of no meaning, I got my eyes down to my canvas and began to + peck at it perfunctorily, when a snapping of twigs underfoot and a + swishing of branches in the thicket warned me of a second intruder, not + approaching by the path, but forcing a way toward it through the + underbrush, and very briskly too, judging by the sounds. + </p> + <p> + He burst out into the glade a few paces from me, a tall man in white + flannels, liberally decorated with brambles and clinging shreds of + underbrush. A streamer of vine had caught about his shoulders; there were + leaves on his bare head, and this, together with the youthful + sprightliness of his light figure and the naive activity of his approach, + gave me a very faunlike first impression of him. + </p> + <p> + At sight of me he stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen a lady in a white and lilac dress and with roses in + her hat?” he demanded, omitting all preface and speaking with a + quick eagerness which caused me no wonder—for I had seen the lady. + </p> + <p> + What did surprise me, however, was the instantaneous certainty with which + I recognised the speaker from Amedee’s description; certainty + founded on the very item which had so dangerously strained the old fellow’s + powers. + </p> + <p> + My sudden gentleman was strikingly good-looking, his complexion so clear + and boyishly healthy, that, except for his gray hair, he might have passed + for twenty-two or twenty-three, and even as it was I guessed his years + short of thirty; but there are plenty of handsome young fellows with + prematurely gray hair, and, as Amedee said, though out of the world we + were near it. It was the new-comer’s “singular air” + which established his identity. Amedee’s vagueness had irked me, but + the thing itself—the “singular air”—was not at all + vague. Instantly perceptible, it was an investiture; marked, definite—and + intangible. My interrogator was “that other monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + In response to his question I asked him another: + </p> + <p> + “Were the roses real or artificial?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” he answered, with what I took to be a + whimsical assumption of gravity. “It wouldn’t matter, would + it? Have you seen her?” + </p> + <p> + He stooped to brush the brambles from his trousers, sending me a sidelong + glance from his blue eyes, which were brightly confident and inquiring, + like a boy’s. At the same time it struck me that whatever the nature + of the singularity investing him it partook of nothing repellent, but, on + the contrary, measurably enhanced his attractiveness; making him “different” + and lending him a distinction which, without it, he might have lacked. And + yet, patent as this singularity must have been to the dullest, it was + something quite apart from any eccentricity of manner, though, heaven + knows, I was soon to think him odd enough. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t your description,” I said gravely, thinking to + suit my humour to his own, “somewhat too general? Over yonder a few + miles lies Houlgate. Trouville itself is not so far, and this is the + season. A great many white hats trimmed with roses might come for a stroll + in these woods. If you would complete the items—” and I waved + my hand as if inviting him to continue. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen her only once before,” he responded promptly, + with a seriousness apparently quite genuine. “That was from my + window at an inn, three days ago. She drove by in an open carriage without + looking up, but I could see that she was very handsome. No—” + he broke off abruptly, but as quickly resumed—“handsome isn’t + just what I mean. Lovely, I should say. That is more like her and a better + thing to be, shouldn’t you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Probably—yes—I think so,” I stammered, in + considerable amazement. + </p> + <p> + “She went by quickly,” he said, as if he were talking in the + most natural and ordinary way in the world, “but I noticed that + while she was in the shade of the inn her hair appeared to be dark, though + when the carriage got into the sunlight again it looked fair.” + </p> + <p> + I had noticed the same thing when the lady who had passed emerged from the + shadows of the path into the sunshine of the glade, but I did not speak of + it now; partly because he gave me no opportunity, partly because I was + almost too astonished to speak at all, for I was no longer under the + delusion that he had any humourous or whimsical intention. + </p> + <p> + “A little while ago,” he went on, “I was up in the + branches of a tree over yonder, and I caught a glimpse of a lady in a + light dress and a white hat and I thought it might be the same. She wore a + dress like that and a white hat with roses when she drove by the inn. I am + very anxious to see her again.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be!” + </p> + <p> + “And haven’t you seen her? Hasn’t she passed this way?” + </p> + <p> + He urged the question with the same strange eagerness which had marked his + manner from the first, a manner which confounded me by its absurd + resemblance to that of a boy who had not mixed with other boys and had + never been teased. And yet his expression was intelligent and alert; nor + was there anything abnormal or “queer” in his good-humoured + gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I think that I may have seen her,” I began slowly; “but + if you do not know her I should not advise—” + </p> + <p> + I was interrupted by a shout and the sound of a large body plunging in the + thicket. At this the face of “that other monsieur” flushed + slightly; he smiled, but seemed troubled. + </p> + <p> + “That is a friend of mine,” he said. “I am afraid he + will want me to go back with him.” And he raised an answering shout. + </p> + <p> + Professor Keredec floundered out through the last row of saplings and + bushes, his beard embellished with a broken twig, his big face red and + perspiring. He was a fine, a mighty man, ponderous of shoulder, monumental + of height, stupendous of girth; there was cloth enough in the hot-looking + black frock-coat he wore for the canopy of a small pavilion. Half a dozen + books were under his arm, and in his hand he carried a hat which evidently + belonged to “that other monsieur,” for his own was on his + head. + </p> + <p> + One glance of scrutiny and recognition he shot at me from his + silver-rimmed spectacles; and seized the young man by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my friend!” he exclaimed in a bass voice of astounding + power and depth, “that is one way to study botany: to jump out of + the middle of a high tree and to run like a crazy man!” He spoke + with a strong accent and a thunderous rolling of the “r.” + “What was I to think?” he demanded. “What has arrived to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw a lady I wished to follow,” the other answered + promptly. + </p> + <p> + “A lady! What lady?” + </p> + <p> + “The lady who passed the inn three days ago. I spoke of her then, + you remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Tonnerre de Dieu!” Keredec slapped his thigh with the sudden + violence of a man who remembers that he has forgotten something, and as a + final addition to my amazement, his voice rang more of remorse than of + reproach. “Have I never told you that to follow strange ladies is + one of the things you cannot do?” + </p> + <p> + “That other monsieur” shook his head. “No, you have + never told me that. I do not understand it,” he said, adding + irrelevantly, “I believe this gentleman knows her. He says he thinks + he has seen her.” + </p> + <p> + “If you please, we must not trouble this gentleman about it,” + said the professor hastily. “Put on your hat, in the name of a + thousand saints, and let us go!” + </p> + <p> + “But I wish to ask him her name,” urged the other, with + something curiously like the obstinacy of a child. “I wish—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” Keredec took him by the arm. “We must go. We + shall be late for our dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” persisted the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Not now!” The professor removed his broad felt hat and + hurriedly wiped his vast and steaming brow—a magnificent structure, + corniced, at this moment, with anxiety. “It is better if we do not + discuss it now.” + </p> + <p> + “But I might not meet him again.” + </p> + <p> + Professor Keredec turned toward me with a half-desperate, half-apologetic + laugh which was like the rumbling of heavy wagons over a block pavement; + and in his flustered face I thought I read a signal of genuine distress. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know the lady,” I said with some sharpness. “I + have never seen her until this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this “that other monsieur” astonished me in good earnest. + Searching my eyes eagerly with his clear, inquisitive gaze, he took a step + toward me and said: + </p> + <p> + “You are sure you are telling the truth?” + </p> + <p> + The professor uttered an exclamation of horror, sprang forward, and + clutched his friend’s arm again. “Malheureux!” he cried, + and then to me: “Sir, you will give him pardon if you can? He has no + meaning to be rude.” + </p> + <p> + “Rude?” The young man’s voice showed both astonishment + and pain. “Was that rude? I didn’t know. I didn’t mean + to be rude, God knows! Ah,” he said sadly, “I do nothing but + make mistakes. I hope you will forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his hand as if in appeal, and let it drop to his side; and in + the action, as well as in the tone of his voice and his attitude of + contrition, there was something that reached me suddenly, with the touch + of pathos. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” I said. “I am only sorry that it was the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said, and turned humbly to Keredec. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, that is better!” shouted the great man, apparently + relieved of a vast weight. “We shall go home now and eat a good + dinner. But first—” his silver-rimmed spectacles twinkled upon + me, and he bent his Brobdingnagian back in a bow which against my will + reminded me of the curtseys performed by Orloff’s dancing bears—“first + let me speak some words for myself. My dear sir”—he addressed + himself to me with grave formality—“do not suppose I have no + realization that other excuses should be made to you. Believe me, they + shall be. It is now that I see it is fortunate for us that you are our + fellow-innsman at Les Trois Pigeons.” + </p> + <p> + I was unable to resist the opportunity, and, affecting considerable + surprise, interrupted him with the apparently guileless query: + </p> + <p> + “Why, how did you know that?” + </p> + <p> + Professor Keredec’s laughter rumbled again, growing deeper and + louder till it reverberated in the woods and a hundred hale old trees + laughed back at him. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho, ho!” he shouted. “But you shall not take me for + a window-curtain spy! That is a fine reputation I give myself with you! + Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + Then, followed submissively by “that other monsieur,” he + strode into the path and went thundering forth through the forest. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + No doubt the most absurd thing I could have done after the departure of + Professor Keredec and his singular friend would have been to settle myself + before my canvas again with the intention of painting—and that is + what I did. At least, I resumed my camp-stool and went through some of the + motions habitually connected with the act of painting. + </p> + <p> + I remember that the first time in my juvenile reading I came upon the + phrase, “seated in a brown study,” I pictured my hero in a + brown chair, beside a brown table, in a room hung with brown paper. Later, + being enlightened, I was ambitious to display the figure myself, but the + uses of ordinary correspondence allowed the occasion for it to remain + unoffered. Let me not only seize upon the present opportunity but gild it, + for the adventure of the afternoon left me in a study which was, at its + mildest, a profound purple. + </p> + <p> + The confession has been made of my curiosity concerning my fellow-lodgers + at Les Trois Pigeons; however, it had been comparatively a torpid growth; + my meeting with them served to enlarge it so suddenly and to such + proportions that I wonder it did not strangle me. In fine, I sat there + brush-paddling my failure like an automaton, and saying over and over + aloud, “What is wrong with him? What is wrong with him?” + </p> + <p> + This was the sillier inasmuch as the word “wrong” (bearing any + significance of a darkened mind) had not the slightest application to + “that other monsieur.” There had been neither darkness nor + dullness; his eyes, his expression, his manner, betrayed no hint of + wildness; rather they bespoke a quick and amiable intelligence—the + more amazing that he had shown himself ignorant of things a child of ten + would know. Amedee and his fellows of Les Trois Pigeons had judged wrongly + of his nationality; his face was of the lean, right, American structure; + but they had hit the relation between the two men: Keredec was the master + and “that other monsieur” the scholar—a pupil studying + boys’ textbooks and receiving instruction in matters and manners + that children are taught. And yet I could not believe him to be a simple + case of arrested development. For the matter of that, I did not like to + think of him as a “case” at all. There had been something + about his bright youthfulness—perhaps it was his quick contrition + for his rudeness, perhaps it was a certain wistful quality he had, perhaps + it was his very “singularity”—which appealed as directly + to my liking as it did urgently to my sympathy. + </p> + <p> + I came out of my vari-coloured study with a start, caused by the discovery + that I had absent-mindedly squeezed upon my palette the entire contents of + an expensive tube of cobalt violet, for which I had no present use; and + sighing (for, of necessity, I am an economical man), I postponed both of + my problems till another day, determined to efface the one with a palette + knife and a rag soaked in turpentine, and to defer the other until I + should know more of my fellow-lodgers at Madame Brossard’s. + </p> + <p> + The turpentine rag at least proved effective; I scoured away the last + tokens of my failure with it, wishing that life were like the canvas and + that men had knowledge of the right celestial turpentine. After that I + cleaned my brushes, packed and shouldered my kit, and, with a final + imprecation upon all sausage-sandwiches, took up my way once more to Les + Trois Pigeons. + </p> + <p> + Presently I came upon an intersecting path where, on my previous + excursions, I had always borne to the right; but this evening, thinking to + discover a shorter cut, I went straight ahead. Striding along at a good + gait and chanting sonorously, “On Linden when the sun was low,” + I left the rougher boscages of the forest behind me and emerged, just at + sunset, upon an orderly fringe of woodland where the ground was neat and + unencumbered, and the trimmed trees stood at polite distances, bowing + slightly to one another with small, well-bred rustlings. + </p> + <p> + The light was somewhere between gold and pink when I came into this lady’s + boudoir of a grove. “Isar flowing rapidly” ceased its tumult + abruptly, and Linden saw no sterner sight that evening: my voice and my + feet stopped simultaneously—for I stood upon Quesnay ground. + </p> + <p> + Before me stretched a short broad avenue of turf, leading to the chateau + gates. These stood open, a gravelled driveway climbing thence by easy + stages between kempt shrubberies to the crest of the hill, where the gray + roof and red chimney-pots of the chateau were glimpsed among the + tree-tops. The slope was terraced with strips of flower-gardens and + intervals of sward; and against the green of a rising lawn I marked the + figure of a woman, pausing to bend over some flowering bush. The figure + was too slender to be mistaken for that of the present chatelaine of + Quesnay: in Miss Elizabeth’s regal amplitude there was never any + hint of fragility. The lady upon the slope, then, I concluded, must be + Madame d’Armand, the inspiration of Amedee’s “Monsieur + has much to live for!” + </p> + <p> + Once more this day I indorsed that worthy man’s opinion, for, though + I was too far distant to see clearly, I knew that roses trimmed Madame d’Armand’s + white hat, and that she had passed me, no long time since, in the forest. + </p> + <p> + I took off my cap. + </p> + <p> + “I have the honour to salute you,” I said aloud. “I make + my apologies for misbehaving with sandwiches and camp-stools in your + presence, Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + Something in my own pronunciation of her name struck me as reminiscent: + save for the prefix, it had sounded like “Harman,” as a + Frenchman might pronounce it. + </p> + <p> + Foreign names involve the French in terrible difficulties. Hughes, an + English friend of mine, has lived in France some five-and-thirty years + without reconciling himself to being known as “Monsieur Ig.” + </p> + <p> + “Armand” might easily be Jean Ferret’s translation of + “Harman.” Had he and Amedee in their admiration conferred the + prefix because they considered it a plausible accompaniment to the lady’s + gentle bearing? It was not impossible; it was, I concluded, very probable. + </p> + <p> + I had come far out of my way, so I retraced my steps to the intersection + of the paths, and thence made for the inn by my accustomed route. The + light failed under the roofing of foliage long before I was free of the + woods, and I emerged upon the road to Les Trois Pigeons when twilight had + turned to dusk. + </p> + <p> + Not far along the road from where I came into it, stood an old, brown, + deep-thatched cottage—a branch of brushwood over the door prettily + beckoning travellers to the knowledge that cider was here for the thirsty; + and as I drew near I perceived that one availed himself of the invitation. + A group stood about the open door, the lamp-light from within disclosing + the head of the house filling a cup for the wayfarer; while honest Mere + Baudry and two generations of younger Baudrys clustered to miss no word of + the interchange of courtesies between Pere Baudry and his chance patron. + </p> + <p> + It afforded me some surprise to observe that the latter was a most mundane + and elaborate wayfarer, indeed; a small young man very lightly made, like + a jockey, and point-device in khaki, puttees, pongee cap, white-and-green + stock, a knapsack on his back, and a bamboo stick under his arm; + altogether equipped to such a high point of pedestrianism that a cynical + person might have been reminded of loud calls for wine at some hostelry in + the land of opera bouffe. He was speaking fluently, though with a + detestable accent, in a rough-and-ready, pick-up dialect of Parisian + slang, evidently under the pleasant delusion that he employed the French + language, while Pere Baudry contributed his share of the conversation in a + slow patois. As both men spoke at the same time and neither understood two + consecutive words the other said, it struck me that the dialogue might + prove unproductive of any highly important results this side of + Michaelmas; therefore, discovering that the very pedestrian gentleman was + making some sort of inquiry concerning Les Trois Pigeons, I came to a halt + and proffered aid. + </p> + <p> + “Are you looking for Madame Brossard’s?” I asked in + English. + </p> + <p> + The traveller uttered an exclamation and faced about with a jump, birdlike + for quickness. He did not reply to my question with the same promptness; + however, his deliberation denoted scrutiny, not sloth. He stood peering at + me sharply until I repeated it. Even then he protracted his examination of + me, a favour I was unable to return with any interest, owing to the + circumstance of his back being toward the light. Nevertheless, I got a + clear enough impression of his alert, well-poised little figure, and of a + hatchety little face, and a pair of shrewd little eyes, which (I thought) + held a fine little conceit of his whole little person. It was a type of + fellow-countryman not altogether unknown about certain “American + Bars” of Paris, and usually connected (more or less directly) with + what is known to the people of France as “le Sport.” + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he responded in a voice of unpleasant nasality, finally + deciding upon speech, “you’re ‘Nummeric’n, ain’t + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I returned. “I thought I heard you inquiring for—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, m’ friend, you can sting me!” he interrupted with + condescending jocularity. “My style French does f’r them + camels up in Paris all right. ME at Nice, Monte Carlo, Chantilly—bow + to the p’fess’r; he’s RIGHT! But down here I don’t + seem to be GUD enough f’r these sheep-dogs; anyway they bark + different. I’m lukkin’ fer a hotel called Les Trois Pigeons.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going there,” I said; “I will show you the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Whur is’t?” he asked, not moving. + </p> + <p> + I pointed to the lights of the inn, flickering across the fields. “Yonder—beyond + the second turn of the road,” I said, and, as he showed no signs of + accompanying me, I added, “I am rather late.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I ain’t goin’ there t’night. It’s too + dark t’ see anything now,” he remarked, to my astonishment. + “Dives and the choo-choo back t’ little ole Trouville f’r + mine! I on’y wanted to take a LUK at this pigeon-house joint.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind my inquiring,” I said, “what you expected + to see at Les Trois Pigeons?” + </p> + <p> + “Why!” he exclaimed, as if astonished at the question, “I’m + a tourist. Makin’ a pedestrun trip t’ all the reg’ler + sights.” And, inspired to eloquence, he added, as an afterthought: + “As it were.” + </p> + <p> + “A tourist?” I echoed, with perfect incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “That’s whut I am, m’ friend,” he returned firmly. + “You don’t have to have a red dope-book in one hand and a + thoid-class choo-choo ticket in the other to be a tourist, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “But if you will pardon me,” I said, “where did you get + the notion that Les Trois Pigeons is one of the regular sights?” + </p> + <p> + “Ain’t it in all the books?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think that it is mentioned in any of the guide-books.” + </p> + <p> + “NO! I didn’t say it WAS, m’ friend,” he retorted + with contemptuous pity. “I mean them history-books. It’s in + all o’ THEM!” + </p> + <p> + “This is strange news,” said I. “I should be very much + interested to read them!” + </p> + <p> + “Lookahere,” he said, taking a step nearer me; “in + oinest now, on your woid: Didn’ more’n half them Jeanne d’Arc + tamales live at that hotel wunst?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody of historical importance—or any other kind of + importance, so far as I know—ever lived there,” I informed + him. “The older portions of the inn once belonged to an ancient + farm-house, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “On the level,” he demanded, “didn’t that William + the Conker nor NONE o’ them ancient gilt-edges live there?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Stung again!” He broke into a sudden loud cackle of laughter. + “Why! the feller tole me ‘at this here Pigeon place was all + three rings when it come t’ history. Yessir! Tall, thin feller he + was, in a three-button cutaway, English make, and kind of red-complected, + with a sandy MUS-tache,” pursued the pedestrian, apparently fearing + his narrative might lack colour. “I met him right comin’ out o’ + the Casino at Trouville, yes’day aft’noon; c’udn’ + a’ b’en more’n four o’clock—hol’ on + though, yes ‘twas, ‘twas nearer five, about twunty minutes t’ + five, say—an’ this feller tells me—” He cackled + with laughter as palpably disingenuous as the corroborative details he + thought necessary to muster, then he became serious, as if marvelling at + his own wondrous verdancy. “M’ friend, that feller soitn’y + found me easy. But he can’t say I ain’t game; he passes me the + limes, but I’m jest man enough to drink his health fer it in this + sweet, sound ole-fashioned cider ‘at ain’t got a headache in a + barrel of it. He played me GUD, and here’s TO him!” + </p> + <p> + Despite the heartiness of the sentiment, my honest tourist’s + enthusiasm seemed largely histrionic, and his quaffing of the beaker too + reminiscent of drain-the-wine-cup-free in the second row of the chorus, + for he absently allowed it to dangle from his hand before raising it to + his lips. However, not all of its contents was spilled, and he swallowed a + mouthful of the sweet, sound, old-fashioned cider—but by mistake, I + was led to suppose, from the expression of displeasure which became so + deeply marked upon his countenance as to be noticeable, even in the feeble + lamplight. + </p> + <p> + I tarried no longer, but bidding this good youth and the generations of + Baudry good-night, hastened on to my belated dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Amedee,” I said, when my cigar was lighted and the usual hour + of consultation had arrived; “isn’t that old lock on the chest + where Madame Brossard keeps her silver getting rather rusty?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, we have no thieves here. We are out of the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but Trouville is not so far away.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly.” + </p> + <p> + “Many strange people go to Trouville: grand-dukes, millionaires, + opera singers, princes, jockeys, gamblers—” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, truly!” + </p> + <p> + “And tourists,” I finished. + </p> + <p> + “That is well known,” assented Amedee, nodding. + </p> + <p> + “It follows,” I continued with the impressiveness of all + logicians, “that many strange people may come from Trouville. In + their excursions to the surrounding points of interest—” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, monsieur, but that is true!” he interrupted, laying his + right forefinger across the bridge of his nose, which was his gesture when + he remembered anything suddenly. “There was a strange monsieur from + Trouville here this very day.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of person was he?” + </p> + <p> + “A foreigner, but I could not tell from what country.” + </p> + <p> + “What time of day was he here?” I asked, with growing + interest. + </p> + <p> + “Toward the middle of the afternoon. I was alone, except for + Glouglou, when he came. He wished to see the whole house and I showed him + what I could, except of course monsieur’s pavilion, and the Grande + Suite. Monsieur the Professor and that other monsieur had gone to the + forest, but I did not feel at liberty to exhibit their rooms without + Madame Brossard’s permission, and she was spending the day at Dives. + Besides,” added the good man, languidly snapping a napkin at a moth + near one of the candles, “the doors were locked.” + </p> + <p> + “This person was a tourist?” I asked, after a pause during + which Amedee seemed peacefully unaware of the rather concentrated gaze I + had fixed upon him. “Of a kind. In speaking he employed many + peculiar expressions, more like a thief of a Parisian cabman than of the + polite world.” + </p> + <p> + “The devil he did!” said I. “Did he tell you why he + wished to see the whole house? Did he contemplate taking rooms here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, it appears that his interest was historical. At first + I should not have taken him for a man of learning, yet he gave me a great + piece of information; a thing quite new to me, though I have lived here so + many years. We are distinguished in history, it seems, and at one time + both William the Conqueror and that brave Jeanne d’Arc—” + </p> + <p> + I interrupted sharply, dropping my cigar and leaning across the table: + </p> + <p> + “How was this person dressed?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, he was very much the pedestrian.” + </p> + <p> + And so, for that evening, we had something to talk about besides “that + other monsieur”; indeed, we found our subject so absorbing that I + forgot to ask Amedee whether it was he or Jean Ferret who had prefixed the + “de” to “Armand.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + The cat that fell from the top of the Washington monument, and scampered + off unhurt was killed by a dog at the next corner. Thus a certain + painter-man, winged with canvases and easel, might have been seen to + depart hurriedly from a poppy-sprinkled field, an infuriated Norman + stallion in close attendance, and to fly safely over a stone wall of good + height, only to turn his ankle upon an unconsidered pebble, some ten paces + farther on; the nose of the stallion projected over the wall, snorting joy + thereat. The ankle was one which had turned aforetime; it was an old + weakness: moreover, it was mine. I was the painter-man. + </p> + <p> + I could count on little less than a week of idleness within the confines + of Les Trois Pigeons; and reclining among cushions in a wicker long-chair + looking out from my pavilion upon the drowsy garden on a hot noontide, I + did not much care. It was cooler indoors, comfortable enough; the open + door framed the courtyard where pigeons were strutting on the gravel walks + between flower-beds. Beyond, and thrown deeper into the perspective by the + outer frame of the great archway, road and fields and forest fringes were + revealed, lying tremulously in the hot sunshine. The foreground gained a + human (though not lively) interest from the ample figure of our maitre d’hotel + reposing in a rustic chair which had enjoyed the shade of an arbour about + an hour earlier, when first occupied, but now stood in the broiling sun. + At times Amedee’s upper eyelids lifted as much as the sixteenth of + an inch, and he made a hazy gesture as if to wave the sun away, or, when + the table-cloth upon his left arm slid slowly earthward, he adjusted it + with a petulant jerk, without material interruption to his siesta. + Meanwhile Glouglou, rolling and smoking cigarettes in the shade of a clump + of lilac, watched with button eyes the noddings of his superior, and, at + the cost of some convulsive writhings, constrained himself to silent + laughter. + </p> + <p> + A heavy step crunched the gravel and I heard my name pronounced in a deep + inquiring rumble—the voice of Professor Keredec, no less. Nor was I + greatly surprised, since our meeting in the forest had led me to expect + some advances on his part toward friendliness, or, at least, in the + direction of a better acquaintance. However, I withheld my reply for a + moment to make sure I had heard aright. + </p> + <p> + The name was repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am,” I called, “in the pavilion, if you wish to + see me.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha! I hear you become an invalid, my dear sir.” With that + the professor’s great bulk loomed in the doorway against the glare + outside. “I have come to condole with you, if you allow it.” + </p> + <p> + “To smoke with me, too, I hope,” I said, not a little pleased. + </p> + <p> + “That I will do,” he returned, and came in slowly, walking + with perceptible lameness. “The sympathy I offer is genuine: it is + not only from the heart, it is from the latissimus dorsi” he + continued, seating himself with a cavernous groan. “I am your + confrere in illness, my dear sir. I have choosed this fine weather for + rheumatism of the back.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it is not painful.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, it is so-so,” he rumbled, removing his spectacles and + wiping his eyes, dazzled by the sun. “There is more of me than of + most men—more to suffer. Nature was generous to the little germs + when she made this big Keredec; she offered them room for their campaigns + of war.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll take a cigarette?” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you; if you do not mind, I smoke my pipe.” + </p> + <p> + He took from his pocket a worn leather case, which he opened, disclosing a + small, browned clay bowl of the kind workmen use; and, fitting it with a + red stem, he filled it with a dark and sinister tobacco from a pouch. + “Always my pipe for me,” he said, and applied a match, + inhaling the smoke as other men inhale the light smoke of cigarettes. + “Ha, it is good! It is wicked for the insides, but it is good for + the soul.” And clouds wreathed his great beard like a storm on Mont + Blanc as he concluded, with gusto, “It is my first pipe since + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “That is being a good smoker,” I ventured sententiously; + “to whet indulgence with abstinence.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” he protested, “I am a man without even + enough virtue to be an epicure. When I am alone I am a chimney with no + hebdomadary repose; I smoke forever. It is on account of my young friend I + am temperate now.” + </p> + <p> + “He has never smoked, your young friend?” I asked, glancing at + my visitor rather curiously, I fear. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Saffren has no vices.” Professor Keredec replaced his + silver-rimmed spectacles and turned them upon me with serene benevolence. + “He is in good condition, all pure, like little children—and + so if I smoke near him he chokes and has water at the eyes, though he does + not complain. Just now I take a vacation: it is his hour for study, but I + think he looks more out of the front window than at his book. He looks + very much from the window”—there was a muttering of + subterranean thunder somewhere, which I was able to locate in the + professor’s torso, and took to be his expression of a chuckle—“yes, + very much, since the passing of that charming lady some days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “You say your young friend’s name is Saffren?” + </p> + <p> + “Oliver Saffren.” The benevolent gaze continued to rest upon + me, but a shadow like a faint anxiety darkened the Homeric brow, and an + odd notion entered my mind (without any good reason) that Professor + Keredec was wondering what I thought of the name. I uttered some + commonplace syllable of no moment, and there ensued a pause during which + the seeming shadow upon my visitor’s forehead became a reality, + deepening to a look of perplexity and trouble. Finally he said abruptly: + “It is about him that I have come to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be very glad,” I murmured, but he brushed the callow + formality aside with a gesture of remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my dear sir,” he cried; “but you are a man of + feeling! We are both old enough to deal with more than just these little + words of the mouth! It was the way you have received my poor young + gentleman’s excuses when he was so rude, which make me wish to talk + with you on such a subject; it is why I would not have you believe Mr. + Saffren and me two very suspected individuals who hide here like two bad + criminals!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” I protested hastily. “The name of Professor + Keredec—” + </p> + <p> + “The name of NO man,” he thundered, interrupting, “can + protect his reputation when he is caught peeping from a curtain! Ha, my + dear sir! I know what you think. You think, ‘He is a nice fine man, + that old professor, oh, very nice—only he hides behind the curtains + sometimes! Very fine man, oh, yes; only he is a spy.’ Eh? Ha, ha! + That is what you have been thinking, my dear sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” I laughed; “I thought you might fear that + <i>I</i> was a spy.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” He became sharply serious upon the instant. “What + made you think that?” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed you might be conducting some experiments, or perhaps + writing a book which you wished to keep from the public for a time, and + that possibly you might imagine that I was a reporter.” + </p> + <p> + “So! And THAT is all,” he returned, with evident relief. + “No, my dear sir, I was the spy; it is the truth; and I was spying + upon you. I confess my shame. I wish very much to know what you were like, + what kind of a man you are. And so,” he concluded with an opening of + the hands, palms upward, as if to show that nothing remained for + concealment, “and so I have watched you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “The explanation is so simple: it was necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Because of—of Mr. Saffren?” I said slowly, and with + some trepidation. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely.” The professor exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Because + I am sensitive for him, and because in a certain way I am—how should + it be said?—perhaps it is near the truth to say, I am his guardian.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” he rejoined quickly, “but I am afraid you + do not see. I am not his guardian by the law.” + </p> + <p> + “I had not supposed that you were,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, though he puzzled me and I do not understand his case—his + case, so to speak, I have not for a moment thought him insane.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my dear sir, you are right!” exclaimed Keredec, beaming + on me, much pleased. “You are a thousand times right; he is as sane + as yourself or myself or as anybody in the whole wide world! Ha! he is now + much MORE sane, for his mind is not yet confused and becobwebbed with the + useless things you and I put into ours. It is open and clear like the + little children’s mind. And it is a good mind! It is only a little + learning, a little experience, that he lacks. A few months more—ha, + at the greatest, a year from now—and he will not be different any + longer; he will be like the rest of us. Only”—the professor + leaned forward and his big fist came down on the arm of his chair—“he + shall be better than the rest of us! But if strange people were to see him + now,” he continued, leaning back and dropping his voice to a more + confidential tone, “it would not do. This poor world is full of + fools; there are so many who judge quickly. If they should see him now, + they might think he is not just right in his brain; and then, as it could + happen so easily, those same people might meet him again after a while. + ‘Ha,’ they would say, ‘there was a time when that young + man was insane. I knew him!’ And so he might go through his life + with those clouds over him. Those clouds are black clouds, they can make + more harm than our old sins, and I wish to save my friend from them. So I + have brought him here to this quiet place where nobody comes, and we can + keep from meeting any foolish people. But, my dear sir”—he + leaned forward again, and spoke emphatically—“it would be + barbarous for men of intelligence to live in the same house and go always + hiding from one another! Let us dine together this evening, if you will, + and not only this evening but every evening you are willing to share with + us and do not wish to be alone. It will be good for us. We are three men + like hermits, far out of the world, but—a thousand saints!—let + us be civilised to one another!” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! I wish you to know my young man,” Keredec went on. + “You will like him—no man of feeling could keep himself from + liking him—and he is your fellow-countryman. I hope you will be his + friend. He should make friends, for he needs them.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he has a host of them,” said I, “in Professor + Keredec.” + </p> + <p> + My visitor looked at me quizzically for a moment, shook his head and + sighed. “That is only one small man in a big body, that Professor + Keredec. And yet,” he went on sadly, “it is all the friends + that poor boy has in this world. You will dine with us to-night?” + </p> + <p> + Acquiescing cheerfully, I added: “You will join me at the table on + my veranda, won’t you? I can hobble that far but not much farther.” + </p> + <p> + Before answering he cast a sidelong glance at the arrangement of things + outside the door. The screen of honeysuckle ran partly across the front of + the little porch, about half of which it concealed from the garden and + consequently from the road beyond the archway. I saw that he took note of + this before he pointed to that corner of the veranda most closely screened + by the vines and said: + </p> + <p> + “May the table be placed yonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; I often have it there, even when I am alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, that is good,” he exclaimed. “It is not human for a + Frenchman to eat in the house in good weather.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a pity,” I said, “that I should have been such a + bugbear.” + </p> + <p> + This remark was thoroughly disingenuous, for, although I did not doubt + that anything he told me was perfectly true, nor that he had made as + complete a revelation as he thought consistent with his duty toward the + young man in his charge, I did not believe that his former precautions + were altogether due to my presence at the inn. + </p> + <p> + And I was certain that while he might fear for his friend some chance + repute of insanity, he had greater terrors than that. As to their nature I + had no clew; nor was it my affair to be guessing; but whatever they were, + the days of security at Les Trois Pigeons had somewhat eased Professor + Keredec’s mind in regard to them. At least, his anxiety was + sufficiently assuaged to risk dining out of doors with only my screen of + honeysuckle between his charge and curious eyes. So much was evident. + </p> + <p> + “The reproach is deserved,” he returned, after a pause. + “It is to be wished that all our bugbears might offer as pleasant a + revelation, if we had the courage, or the slyness”—he laughed—“to + investigate.” + </p> + <p> + I made a reply of similar gallantry and he got to his feet, rubbing his + back as he rose. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, I am old! old! Rheumatism in warm weather: that is ugly. Now I + must go to my boy and see what he can make of his Gibbon. The poor fellow! + I think he finds the decay of Rome worse than rheumatism in summer!” + </p> + <p> + He replaced his pipe in its case, and promising heartily that it should + not be the last he would smoke in my company and domain, was making slowly + for the door when he paused at a sound from the road. + </p> + <p> + We heard the rapid hoof-beats of a mettled horse. He crossed our vision + and the open archway: a high-stepping hackney going well, driven by a lady + in a light trap which was half full of wild flowers. It was a quick + picture, like a flash of the cinematograph, but the pose of the lady as a + driver was seen to be of a commanding grace, and though she was not in + white but in light blue, and her plain sailor hat was certainly not + trimmed with roses, I had not the least difficulty in recognising her. At + the same instant there was a hurried clatter of foot-steps upon the + stairway leading from the gallery; the startled pigeons fluttered up from + the garden-path, betaking themselves to flight, and “that other + monsieur” came leaping across the courtyard, through the archway and + into the road. + </p> + <p> + “Glouglou! Look quickly!” he called loudly, in French, as he + came; “Who is that lady?” + </p> + <p> + Glouglou would have replied, but the words were taken out of his mouth. + Amedee awoke with a frantic start and launched himself at the archway, + carroming from its nearest corner and hurtling onward at a speed which for + once did not diminish in proportion to his progress. + </p> + <p> + “That lady, monsieur?” he gasped, checking himself at the + young man’s side and gazing after the trap, “that is Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame d’Armand,” Saffren repeated the name slowly. + “Her name is Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, monsieur,” said Amedee complacently; “it is an + American lady who has married a French nobleman.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Like most painters, I have supposed the tools of my craft harder to + manipulate than those of others. The use of words, particularly, seemed + readier, handier for the contrivance of effects than pigments. I thought + the language of words less elusive than that of colour, leaving smaller + margin for unintended effects; and, believing in complacent good faith + that words conveyed exact meanings exactly, it was my innocent conception + that almost anything might be so described in words that all who read must + inevitably perceive that thing precisely. If this were true, there would + be little work for the lawyers, who produce such tortured pages in the + struggle to be definite, who swing riches from one family to another, save + men from violent death or send them to it, and earn fortunes for + themselves through the dangerous inadequacies of words. I have learned how + great was my mistake, and now I am wishing I could shift paper for canvas, + that I might paint the young man who came to interest me so deeply. I wish + I might present him here in colour instead of trusting to this unstable + business of words, so wily and undependable, with their shimmering values, + that you cannot turn your back upon them for two minutes but they will be + shouting a hundred things which they were not meant to tell. + </p> + <p> + To make the best of necessity: what I have written of him—my first + impressions—must be taken as the picture, although it be but a + gossamer sketch in the air, instead of definite work with well-ground + pigments to show forth a portrait, to make you see flesh and blood. It + must take the place of something contrived with my own tools to reveal + what the following days revealed him to me, and what it was about him + (evasive of description) which made me so soon, as Keredec wished, his + friend. + </p> + <p> + Life among our kin and kind is made pleasanter by our daily platitudes. + Who is more tedious than the man incessantly struggling to avoid the + banal? Nature rules that such a one will produce nothing better than + epigram and paradox, saying old, old things in a new way, or merely + shifting object for subject—and his wife’s face, when he + shines for a circle, is worth a glance. With no further apology, I declare + that I am a person who has felt few positive likes or dislikes for people + in this life, and I did deeply like my fellow-lodgers at Les Trois + Pigeons. Liking for both men increased with acquaintance, and for the + younger I came to feel, in addition, a kind of championship, doubtless in + some measure due to what Keredec had told me of him, but more to that + half-humourous sense of protectiveness that we always have for those young + people whose untempered and innocent outlook makes us feel, as we say, + “a thousand years old.” + </p> + <p> + The afternoon following our first dinner together, the two, in returning + from their walk, came into the pavilion with cheerful greetings, instead + of going to their rooms as usual, and Keredec, declaring that the open air + had “dispersed” his rheumatism, asked if he might overhaul + some of my little canvases and boards. I explained that they consisted + mainly of “notes” for future use, but consented willingly; + whereupon he arranged a number of them as for exhibition and delivered + himself impromptu of the most vehemently instructive lecture on art I had + ever heard. Beginning with the family, the tribe, and the totem-pole, he + was able to demonstrate a theory that art was not only useful to society + but its primary necessity; a curious thought, probably more attributable + to the fact that he was a Frenchman than to that of his being a scientist. + </p> + <p> + “And here,” he said in the course of his demonstration, + pointing to a sketch which I had made one morning just after sunrise—“here + you can see real sunshine. One certain day there came those few certain + moment’ at the sunrise when the light was like this. Those few + moment’, where are they? They have disappeared, gone for eternally. + They went”—he snapped his fingers—“like that. Yet + here they are—ha!—forever!” + </p> + <p> + “But it doesn’t look like sunshine,” said Oliver Saffren + hesitatingly, stating a disconcerting but incontrovertible truth; “it + only seems to look like it because—isn’t it because it’s + so much brighter than the rest of the picture? I doubt if paint CAN look + like sunshine.” He turned from the sketch, caught Keredec’s + gathering frown, and his face flushed painfully. “Ah!” he + cried, “I shouldn’t have said it?” + </p> + <p> + I interposed to reassure him, exclaiming that it were a godsend indeed, + did all our critics merely speak the plain truth as they see it for + themselves. The professor would not have it so, and cut me off. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no, my dear sir!” he shouted. “You speak with + kindness, but you put some wrong ideas in his head!” + </p> + <p> + Saffren’s look of trouble deepened. “I don’t understand,” + he murmured. “I thought you said always to speak the truth just as I + see it.” “I have telled you,” Keredec declared + vehemently, “nothing of the kind!” + </p> + <p> + “But only yesterday—” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “I understood—” + </p> + <p> + “Then you understood only one-half! I say, ‘Speak the truth as + you see it, when you speak.’ I did not tell you to speak! How much + time have you give’ to study sunshine and paint? What do you know + about them?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” answered the other humbly. + </p> + <p> + A profound rumbling was heard, and the frown disappeared from Professor + Keredec’s brow like the vanishing of the shadow of a little cloud + from the dome of some great benevolent and scientific institute. He + dropped a weighty hand on his young friend’s shoulder, and, in high + good-humour, thundered: + </p> + <p> + “Then you are a critic! Knowing nothing of sunshine except that it + warms you, and never having touched paint, you are going to tell about + them to a man who spends his life studying them! You look up in the night + and the truth you see is that the moon and stars are crossing the ocean. + You will tell that to the astronomer? Ha! The truth is what the masters + see. When you know what they see, you may speak.” + </p> + <p> + At dinner the night before, it had struck me that Saffren was a rather + silent young man by habit, and now I thought I began to understand the + reason. I hinted as much, saying, “That would make a quiet world of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better, my dear sir!” The professor turned beamingly + upon me and continued, dropping into a Whistlerian mannerism that he had + sometimes: “You must not blame that great wind of a Keredec for + preaching at other people to listen. It gives the poor man more room for + himself to talk!” + </p> + <p> + I found his talk worth hearing. + </p> + <p> + I would show you, if I could, our pleasant evenings of lingering, after + coffee, behind the tremulous screen of honeysuckle, with the night very + dark and quiet beyond the warm nimbus of our candle-light, the faces of my + two companions clear-obscure in a mellow shadow like the middle tones of a + Rembrandt, and the professor, good man, talking wonderfully of everything + under the stars and over them,—while Oliver Saffren and I sat under + the spell of the big, kind voice, the young man listening with the same + eagerness which marked him when he spoke. It was an eagerness to + understand, not to interrupt. + </p> + <p> + These were our evenings. In the afternoons the two went for their walk as + usual, though now they did not plunge out of sight of the main road with + the noticeable haste which Amedee had described. As time pressed, I + perceived the caution of Keredec visibly slackening. Whatever he had + feared, the obscurity and continued quiet of LES TROIS PIGEONS reassured + him; he felt more and more secure in this sheltered retreat, “far + out of the world,” and obviously thought no danger imminent. So the + days went by, uneventful for my new friends,—days of warm idleness + for me. Let them go unnarrated; we pass to the event. + </p> + <p> + My ankle had taken its wonted time to recover. I was on my feet again and + into the woods—not traversing, on the way, a certain poppy-sprinkled + field whence a fine Norman stallion snorted ridicule over a wall. But the + fortune of Keredec was to sink as I rose. His summer rheumatism returned, + came to grips with him, laid him low. We hobbled together for a day or so, + then I threw away my stick and he exchanged his for an improvised crutch. + By the time I was fit to run, he was able to do little better than to + creep—might well have taken to his bed. But as he insisted that his + pupil should not forego the daily long walks and the health of the forest, + it came to pass that Saffren often made me the objective of his rambles. + At dinner he usually asked in what portion of the forest I should be + painting late the next afternoon, and I got in the habit of expecting him + to join me toward sunset. We located each other through a code of yodeling + that we arranged; his part of these vocal gymnastics being very pleasant + to hear, for he had a flexible, rich voice. I shudder to recall how + largely my own performances partook of the grotesque. But in the forest + where were no musical persons (I supposed) to take hurt from whatever + noise I made, I would let go with all the lungs I had; he followed the + horrid sounds to their origin, and we would return to the inn together. + </p> + <p> + On these homeward walks I found him a good companion, and that is + something not to be under-valued by a selfish man who lives for himself + and his own little ways and his own little thoughts, and for very little + else,—which is the kind of man (as I have already confessed) that I + was—deserving the pity of all happily or unhappily married persons. + </p> + <p> + Responsive in kind to either a talkative mood or a silent one, always + gentle in manner, and always unobtrusively melancholy, Saffren never took + the initiative, though now and then he asked a question about some rather + simple matter which might be puzzling him. Whatever the answer, he usually + received it in silence, apparently turning the thing over and over and + inside out in his mind. He was almost tremulously sensitive, yet not vain, + for he was neither afraid nor ashamed to expose his ignorance, his amazing + lack of experience. He had a greater trouble, one that I had not fathomed. + Sometimes there came over his face a look of importunate wistfulness and + distressed perplexity, and he seemed on the point of breaking out with + something that he wished to tell me—or to ask me, for it might have + been a question—but he always kept it back. Keredec’s training + seldom lost its hold upon him. + </p> + <p> + I had gone back to my glade again, and to the thin sunshine, which came a + little earlier, now that we were deep in July; and one afternoon I sat in + the mouth of the path, just where I had played the bounding harlequin for + the benefit of the lovely visitor at Quesnay. It was warm in the woods and + quiet, warm with the heat of July, still with a July stillness. The leaves + had no motion; if there were birds or insects within hearing they must + have been asleep; the quivering flight of a butterfly in that languid air + seemed, by contrast, quite a commotion; a humming-bird would have made a + riot. + </p> + <p> + I heard the light snapping of a twig and a swish of branches from the + direction in which I faced; evidently some one was approaching the glade, + though concealed from me for the moment by the winding of the path. Taking + it for Saffren, as a matter of course (for we had arranged to meet at that + time and place), I raised my voice in what I intended for a merry yodel of + greeting. + </p> + <p> + I yodeled loud, I yodeled long. Knowing my own deficiencies in this art, I + had adopted the cunning sinner’s policy toward sin and made a joke + of it: thus, since my best performance was not unsuggestive of calamity in + the poultry yard, I made it worse. And then and there, when my mouth was + at its widest in the production of these shocking ulla-hootings, the + person approaching came round a turn in the path, and within full sight of + me. To my ultimate, utmost horror, it was Madame d’Armand. + </p> + <p> + I grew so furiously red that it burned me. I had not the courage to run, + though I could have prayed that she might take me for what I seemed—plainly + a lunatic, whooping the lonely peace of the woods into pandemonium—and + turn back. But she kept straight on, must inevitably reach the glade and + cross it, and I calculated wretchedly that at the rate she was walking, + unhurried but not lagging, it would be about thirty seconds before she + passed me. Then suddenly, while I waited in sizzling shame, a clear voice + rang out from a distance in an answering yodel to mine, and I thanked + heaven for its mercies; at least she would see that my antics had some + reason. + </p> + <p> + She stopped short, in a half-step, as if a little startled, one arm raised + to push away a thin green branch that crossed the path at shoulder-height; + and her attitude was so charming as she paused, detained to listen by this + other voice with its musical youthfulness, that for a second I thought + crossly of all the young men in the world. + </p> + <p> + There was a final call, clear and loud as a bugle, and she turned to the + direction whence it came, so that her back was toward me. Then Oliver + Saffren came running lightly round the turn of the path, near her and + facing her. + </p> + <p> + He stopped as short as she had. + </p> + <p> + Her hand dropped from the slender branch, and pressed against her side. + </p> + <p> + He lifted his hat and spoke to her, and I thought she made some quick + reply in a low voice, though I could not be sure. + </p> + <p> + She held that startled attitude a moment longer, then turned and crossed + the glade so hurriedly that it was almost as if she ran away from him. I + had moved aside with my easel and camp-stool, but she passed close to me + as she entered the path again on my side of the glade. She did not seem to + see me, her dark eyes stared widely straight ahead, her lips were parted, + and she looked white and frightened. + </p> + <p> + She disappeared very quickly in the windings of the path. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + He came on more slowly, his eyes following her as she vanished, then + turning to me with a rather pitiful apprehension—a look like that I + remember to have seen (some hundreds of years ago) on the face of a + freshman, glancing up from his book to find his doorway ominously filling + with sophomores. + </p> + <p> + I stepped out to meet him, indignant upon several counts, most of all upon + his own. I knew there was no offence in his heart, not the remotest rude + intent, but the fact was before me that he had frightened a woman, had + given this very lovely guest of my friends good cause to hold him a boor, + if she did not, indeed, think him (as she probably thought me) an outright + lunatic! I said: + </p> + <p> + “You spoke to that lady!” And my voice sounded unexpectedly + harsh and sharp to my own ears, for I had meant to speak quietly. + </p> + <p> + “I know—I know. It—it was wrong,” he stammered. + “I knew I shouldn’t—and I couldn’t help it.” + </p> + <p> + “You expect me to believe that?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s the truth; I couldn’t!” + </p> + <p> + I laughed sceptically; and he flinched, but repeated that what he had said + was only the truth. “I don’t understand; it was all beyond me,” + he added huskily. + </p> + <p> + “What was it you said to her?” + </p> + <p> + “I spoke her name—‘Madame d’Armand.’” + </p> + <p> + “You said more than that!” + </p> + <p> + “I asked her if she would let me see her again.” + </p> + <p> + “What else?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” he answered humbly. “And then she—then + for a moment it seemed—for a moment she didn’t seem to be able + to speak—” + </p> + <p> + “I should think not!” I shouted, and burst out at him with + satirical laughter. He stood patiently enduring it, his lowered eyes + following the aimless movements of his hands, which were twisting and + untwisting his flexible straw hat; and it might have struck me as nearer + akin to tragedy rather than to a thing for laughter: this spectacle of a + grown man so like a schoolboy before the master, shamefaced over a + stammered confession. + </p> + <p> + “But she did say something to you, didn’t she?” I asked + finally, with the gentleness of a cross-examining lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—after that moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what was it?” + </p> + <p> + “She said, ‘Not now!’ That was all.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that was all she had breath for! It was just the + inconsequent and meaningless thing a frightened woman WOULD say!” + </p> + <p> + “Meaningless?” he repeated, and looked up wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Did you take it for an appointment?” I roared, quite out of + patience, and losing my temper completely. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no! She said only that, and then—” + </p> + <p> + “Then she turned and ran away from you!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, swallowing painfully. + </p> + <p> + “That PLEASED you,” I stormed, “to frighten a woman in + the woods—to make her feel that she can’t walk here in safety! + You ENJOY doing things like that?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me with disconcerting steadiness for a moment, and, without + offering any other response, turned aside, resting his arm against the + trunk of a tree and gazing into the quiet forest. + </p> + <p> + I set about packing my traps, grumbling various sarcasms, the last + mutterings of a departed storm, for already I realised that I had taken + out my own mortification upon him, and I was stricken with remorse. And + yet, so contrarily are we made, I continued to be unkind while in my heart + I was asking pardon of him. I tried to make my reproaches gentler, to lend + my voice a hint of friendly humour, but in spite of me the one sounded + gruffer and the other sourer with everything I said. This was the worse + because of the continued silence of the victim: he did not once answer, + nor by the slightest movement alter his attitude until I had finished—and + more than finished. + </p> + <p> + “There—and that’s all!” I said desperately, when + the things were strapped and I had slung them to my shoulder. “Let’s + be off, in heaven’s name!” + </p> + <p> + At that he turned quickly toward me; it did not lessen my remorse to see + that he had grown very pale. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn’t have frightened her for the world,” he said, + and his voice and his whole body shook with a strange violence. “I + wouldn’t have frightened her to please the angels in heaven!” + </p> + <p> + A blunderer whose incantation had brought the spirit up to face me, I + stared at him helplessly, nor could I find words to answer or control the + passion that my imbecile scolding had evoked. Whatever the barriers + Keredec’s training had built for his protection, they were down now. + </p> + <p> + “You think I told a lie!” he cried. “You think I lied + when I said I couldn’t help speaking to her!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” I said earnestly. “I didn’t mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Words!” he swept the feeble protest away, drowned in a + whirling vehemence. “And what does it matter? You CAN’T + understand. When YOU want to know what to do, you look back into your life + and it tells you; and I look back—AH!” He cried out, uttering + a half-choked, incoherent syllable. “I look back and it’s all—BLIND! + All these things you CAN do and CAN’T do—all these infinite + little things! You know, and Keredec knows, and Glouglou knows, and every + mortal soul on earth knows—but <i>I</i> don’t know! Your life + has taught you, and you know, but I don’t know. I haven’t HAD + my life. It’s gone! All I have is words that Keredec has said to me, + and it’s like a man with no eyes, out in the sunshine hunting for + the light. Do you think words can teach you to resist such impulses as I + had when I spoke to Madame d’Armand? Can life itself teach you to + resist them? Perhaps you never had them?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. + </p> + <p> + “I would burn my hand from my arm and my arm from my body,” he + went on, with the same wild intensity, “rather than trouble her or + frighten her, but I couldn’t help speaking to her any more than I + can help wanting to see her again—the feeling that I MUST—whatever + you say or do, whatever Keredec says or does, whatever the whole world may + say or do. And I will! It isn’t a thing to choose to do, or not to + do. I can’t help it any more than I can help being alive!” + </p> + <p> + He paused, wiping from his brow a heavy dew not of the heat, but like that + on the forehead of a man in crucial pain. I made nervous haste to seize + the opportunity, and said gently, almost timidly: + </p> + <p> + “But if it should distress the lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—then I could keep away. But I must know that.” + </p> + <p> + “I think you might know it by her running away—and by her + look,” I said mildly. “Didn’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “NO!” And his eyes flashed an added emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” I said, “let’s be on our way, or the + professor will be wondering if he is to dine alone.” + </p> + <p> + Without looking to see if he followed, I struck into the path toward home. + He did follow, obediently enough, not uttering another word so long as we + were in the woods, though I could hear him breathing sharply as he strode + behind me, and knew that he was struggling to regain control of himself. I + set the pace, making it as fast as I could, and neither of us spoke again + until we had come out of the forest and were upon the main road near the + Baudry cottage. Then he said in a steadier voice: + </p> + <p> + “Why should it distress her?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see,” I began, not slackening the pace “there + are formalities—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I know,” he interrupted, with an impatient laugh. “Keredec + once took me to a marionette show—all the little people strung on + wires; they couldn’t move any other way. And so you mustn’t + talk to a woman until somebody whose name has been spoken to you speaks + yours to her! Do you call that a rule of nature?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” I laughed in some desperation, “we must + conform to it, ordinarily, no matter whose rule it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think Madame d’Armand cares for little forms like + that?” he asked challengingly. + </p> + <p> + “She does,” I assured him with perfect confidence. “And, + for the hundredth time, you must have seen how you troubled her.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he returned, with the same curious obstinacy, “I + don’t believe it. There was something, but it wasn’t trouble. + We looked straight at each other; I saw her eyes plainly, and it was—” + he paused and sighed, a sudden, brilliant smile upon his lips—“it + was very—it was very strange!” + </p> + <p> + There was something so glad and different in his look that—like any + other dried-up old blunderer in my place—I felt an instant tendency + to laugh. It was that heathenish possession, the old insanity of the + risibles, which makes a man think it a humourous thing that his friend + should be discovered in love. + </p> + <p> + But before I spoke, before I quite smiled outright, I was given the grace + to see myself in the likeness of a leering stranger trespassing in some + cherished inclosure: a garden where the gentlest guests must always be + intruders, and only the owner should come. The best of us profane it + readily, leaving the coarse prints of our heels upon its paths, mauling + and man-handling the fairy blossoms with what pudgy fingers! Comes the + poet, ruthlessly leaping the wall and trumpeting indecently his + view-halloo of the chase, and, after him, the joker, snickering and + hopeful of a kill among the rose-beds; for this has been their + hunting-ground since the world began. These two have made us miserably + ashamed of the divine infinitive, so that we are afraid to utter the very + words “to love,” lest some urchin overhear and pursue us with + a sticky forefinger and stickier taunts. It is little to my credit that I + checked the silly impulse to giggle at the eternal marvel, and went as + gently as I could where I should not have gone at all. + </p> + <p> + “But if you were wrong,” I said, “if it did distress + her, and if it happened that she has already had too much that was + distressing in her life—” + </p> + <p> + “You know something about her!” he exclaimed. “You know—” + </p> + <p> + “I do not,” I interrupted in turn. “I have only a vague + guess; I may be altogether mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it that you guess?” he demanded abruptly. “Who + made her suffer?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it was her husband,” I said, with a lack of + discretion for which I was instantly sorry, fearing with reason that I had + added a final blunder to the long list of the afternoon. “That is,” + I added, “if my guess is right.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped short in the road, detaining me by the arm, the question coming + like a whip-crack: sharp, loud, violent. + </p> + <p> + “Is he alive?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” I answered, beginning to move forward; + “and this is foolish talk—especially on my part!” + </p> + <p> + “But I want to know,” he persisted, again detaining me. + </p> + <p> + “And I DON’T know!” I returned emphatically. “Probably + I am entirely mistaken in thinking that I know anything of her whatever. I + ought not to have spoken, unless I knew what I was talking about, and I’d + rather not say any more until I do know.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he said quickly. “Will you tell me then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—if you will let it go at that.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said, and with an impulse which was but too + plainly one of gratitude, offered me his hand. I took it, and my soul was + disquieted within me, for it was no purpose of mine to set inquiries on + foot in regard to the affairs of “Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + It was early dusk, that hour, a little silvered but still clear, when the + edges of things are beginning to grow indefinite, and usually our sleepy + countryside knew no tranquiller time of day; but to-night, as we + approached the inn, there were strange shapes in the roadway and other + tokens that events were stirring there. + </p> + <p> + From the courtyard came the sounds of laughter and chattering voices. + Before the entrance stood a couple of open touring-cars; the chauffeurs + engaged in cooling the rear tires with buckets of water brought by a + personage ordinarily known as Glouglou, whose look and manner, as he + performed this office for the leathern dignitaries, so awed me that I + wondered I had ever dared address him with any presumption of intimacy. + The cars were great and opulent, of impressive wheel-base, and + fore-and-aft they were laden intricately with baggage: concave trunks + fitting behind the tonneaus, thin trunks fastened upon the footboards, + green, circular trunks adjusted to the spare tires, all deeply coated with + dust. Here were fineries from Paris, doubtless on their way to flutter + over the gay sands of Trouville, and now wandering but temporarily from + the road; for such splendours were never designed to dazzle us of Madame + Brossard’s. + </p> + <p> + We were crossing before the machines when one of the drivers saw fit to + crank his engine (if that is the knowing phrase) and the thing shook out + the usual vibrating uproar. It had a devastating effect upon my companion. + He uttered a wild exclamation and sprang sideways into me, almost + upsetting us both. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth is the matter?” I asked. “Did you think + the car was starting?” + </p> + <p> + He turned toward me a face upon which was imprinted the sheer, blank + terror of a child. It passed in an instant however, and he laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I really didn’t know. Everything has been so quiet always, + out here in the country—and that horrible racket coming so suddenly—” + </p> + <p> + Laughing with him, I took his arm and we turned to enter the archway. As + we did so we almost ran into a tall man who was coming out, evidently + intending to speak to one of the drivers. + </p> + <p> + The stranger stepped back with a word of apology, and I took note of him + for a fellow-countryman, and a worldly buck of fashion indeed, almost as + cap-a-pie the automobilist as my mysterious spiller of cider had been the + pedestrian. But this was no game-chicken; on the contrary (so far as a + glance in the dusk of the archway revealed him), much the picture for + framing in a club window of a Sunday morning; a seasoned, hard-surfaced, + knowing creature for whom many a head waiter must have swept previous + claimants from desired tables. He looked forty years so cannily that I + guessed him to be about fifty. + </p> + <p> + We were passing him when he uttered an ejaculation of surprise and stepped + forward again, holding out his hand to my companion, and exclaiming: + </p> + <p> + “Where did YOU come from? I’d hardly have known you.” + </p> + <p> + Oliver seemed unconscious of the proffered hand; he stiffened visibly and + said: + </p> + <p> + “I think there must be some mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “So there is,” said the other promptly. “I have been + misled by a resemblance. I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + He lifted his cap slightly, going on, and we entered the courtyard to find + a cheerful party of nine or ten men and women seated about a couple of + tables. Like the person we had just encountered, they all exhibited a + picturesque elaboration of the costume permitted by their mode of travel; + making effective groupings in their ample draperies of buff and green and + white, with glimpses of a flushed and pretty face or two among the + loosened veilings. Upon the tables were pots of tea, plates of sandwiches, + Madame Brossard’s three best silver dishes heaped with fruit, and + some bottles of dry champagne from the cellars of Rheims. The partakers + were making very merry, having with them (as is inevitable in all such + parties, it seems) a fat young man inclined to humour, who was now upon + his feet for the proposal of some prankish toast. He interrupted himself + long enough to glance our way as we crossed the garden; and it struck me + that several pairs of brighter eyes followed my young companion with + interest. He was well worth it, perhaps all the more because he was so + genuinely unconscious of it; and he ran up the gallery steps and + disappeared into his own rooms without sending even a glance from the + corner of his eye in return. + </p> + <p> + I went almost as quickly to my pavilion, and, without lighting my lamp, + set about my preparations for dinner. + </p> + <p> + The party outside, breaking up presently, could be heard moving toward the + archway with increased noise and laughter, inspired by some exquisite + antic on the part of the fat young man, when a girl’s voice (a very + attractive voice) called, “Oh, Cressie, aren’t you coming?” + and a man’s replied, from near my veranda: “Only stopping to + light a cigar.” + </p> + <p> + A flutter of skirts and a patter of feet betokened that the girl came + running back to join the smoker. “Cressie,” I heard her say in + an eager, lowered tone, “who WAS he?” + </p> + <p> + “Who was who?” + </p> + <p> + “That DEVASTATING creature in white flannels!” + </p> + <p> + The man chuckled. “Matinee sort of devastator—what? Monte + Cristo hair, noble profile—” + </p> + <p> + “You’d better tell me,” she interrupted earnestly—“if + you don’t want me to ask the WAITER.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t know him.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw you speak to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was a man I met three years ago out in San Francisco, + but I was mistaken. There was a slight resemblance. This fellow might have + been a rather decent younger brother of the man I knew. HE was the—” + </p> + <p> + My strong impression was that if the speaker had not been interrupted at + this point he would have said something very unfavourable to the character + of the man he had met in San Francisco; but there came a series of blasts + from the automobile horns and loud calls from others of the party, who + were evidently waiting for these two. + </p> + <p> + “Coming!” shouted the man. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” said his companion hurriedly, “Who was the other + man, the older one with the painting things and SUCH a coat?” + </p> + <p> + “Never saw him before in my life.” + </p> + <p> + I caught a last word from the girl as the pair moved away. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll come back here with a BAND to-morrow night, and serenade + the beautiful one. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he’d drop me his card out of the window!” + </p> + <p> + The horns sounded again; there was a final chorus of laughter, suddenly + ceasing to be heard as the cars swept away, and Les Trois Pigeons was left + to its accustomed quiet. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur is served,” said Amedee, looking in at my door, five + minutes later. + </p> + <p> + “You have passed a great hour just now, Amedee.” + </p> + <p> + “It was like the old days, truly!” + </p> + <p> + “They are off for Trouville, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, they are on their way to visit the chateau, and + stopped here only because the run from Paris had made the tires too hot.” + </p> + <p> + “To visit Quesnay, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly. But monsieur need give himself no uneasiness; I did not + mention to any one that monsieur is here. His name was not spoken. + Mademoiselle Ward returned to the chateau to-day,” he added. “She + has been in England.” + </p> + <p> + “Quesnay will be gay,” I said, coming out to the table. Oliver + Saffren was helping the professor down the steps, and Keredec, bent with + suffering, but indomitable, gave me a hearty greeting, and began a + ruthless dissection of Plato with the soup. Oliver, usually, very quiet, + as I have said, seemed a little restless under the discourse to-night. + However, he did not interrupt, sitting patiently until bedtime, though + obviously not listening. When he bade me good night he gave me a look so + clearly in reference to a secret understanding between us that, meaning to + keep only the letter of my promise to him, I felt about as comfortable as + if I had meanly tricked a child. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + I had finished dressing, next morning, and was strapping my things + together for the day’s campaign, when I heard a shuffling step upon + the porch, and the door opened gently, without any previous ceremony of + knocking. To my angle of vision what at first appeared to have opened it + was a tray of coffee, rolls, eggs, and a packet of sandwiches, but, after + hesitating somewhat, this apparition advanced farther into the room, + disclosing a pair of supporting hands, followed in due time by the whole + person of a nervously smiling and visibly apprehensive Amedee. He closed + the door behind him by the simple action of backing against it, took the + cloth from his arm, and with a single gesture spread it neatly upon a + small table, then, turning to me, laid the forefinger of his right hand + warningly upon his lips and bowed me a deferential invitation to occupy + the chair beside the table. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, glaring at him, “what ails you?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought monsieur might prefer his breakfast indoors, this + morning,” he returned in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + The miserable old man said something I did not understand—an + incoherent syllable or two—suddenly covered his mouth with both + hands, and turned away. I heard a catch in his throat; suffocated sounds + issued from his bosom; however, it was nothing more than a momentary + seizure, and, recovering command of himself by a powerful effort, he faced + me with hypocritical servility. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you laugh?” I asked indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “But I did not laugh,” he replied in a husky whisper. “Not + at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You did,” I asserted, raising my voice. “It almost + killed you!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur,” he begged hoarsely, “HUSH!” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” I demanded loudly. “What do you + mean by these abominable croakings? Speak out!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur—” he gesticulated in a panic, toward the + courtyard. “Mademoiselle Ward is out there.” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT!” But I did not shout the word. + </p> + <p> + “There is always a little window in the rear wall,” he + breathed in my ear as I dropped into the chair by the table. “She + would not see you if—” + </p> + <p> + I interrupted with all the French rough-and-ready expressions of dislike + at my command, daring to hope that they might give him some shadowy, + far-away idea of what I thought of both himself and his suggestions, and, + notwithstanding the difficulty of expressing strong feeling in whispers, + it seemed to me that, in a measure, I succeeded. “I am not in the + habit of crawling out of ventilators,” I added, subduing a tendency + to vehemence. “And probably Mademoiselle Ward has only come to talk + with Madame Brossard.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear some of those people may have told her you were here,” + he ventured insinuatingly. + </p> + <p> + “What people?” I asked, drinking my coffee calmly, yet, it + must be confessed, without quite the deliberation I could have wished. + </p> + <p> + “Those who stopped yesterday evening on the way to the chateau. They + might have recognised—” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible. I knew none of them.” + </p> + <p> + “But Mademoiselle Ward knows that you are here. Without doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she has inquired for you.” + </p> + <p> + “So!” I rose at once and went toward the door. “Why didn’t + you tell me at once?” + </p> + <p> + “But surely,” he remonstrated, ignoring my question, “monsieur + will make some change of attire?” + </p> + <p> + “Change of attire?” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, the poor old coat all hunched at the shoulders and spotted with + paint!” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t it be?” I hissed, thoroughly irritated. + “Do you take me for a racing marquis?” + </p> + <p> + “But monsieur has a coat much more as a coat ought to be. And Jean + Ferret says—” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, now we’re getting at it!” said I. “What does + Jean Ferret say?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it would be better if I did not repeat—” + </p> + <p> + “Out with it! What does Jean Ferret say?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Mademoiselle Ward’s maid from Paris has told Jean + Ferret that monsieur and Mademoiselle Ward have corresponded for years, + and that—and that—” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” I bade him ominously. + </p> + <p> + “That monsieur has sent Mademoiselle Ward many expensive jewels, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” said I, at which he paused abruptly, and stood staring + at me. The idea of explaining Miss Elizabeth’s collection to him, of + getting anything whatever through that complacent head of his, was so + hopeless that I did not even consider it. There was only one thing to do, + and perhaps I should have done it—I do not know, for he saw the + menace coiling in my eye, and hurriedly retreated. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” he gasped, backing away from me, and as his hand, + fumbling behind him, found the latch of the door, he opened it, and + scrambled out by a sort of spiral movement round the casing. When I + followed, a moment later—with my traps on my shoulder and the packet + of sandwiches in my pocket—he was out of sight. + </p> + <p> + Miss Elizabeth sat beneath the arbour at the other end of the courtyard, + and beside her stood the trim and glossy bay saddle-horse that she had + ridden from Quesnay, his head outstretched above his mistress to paddle at + the vine leaves with a tremulous upper lip. She checked his desire with a + slight movement of her hand upon the bridle-rein; and he arched his neck + prettily, pawing the gravel with a neat forefoot. Miss Elizabeth is one of + the few large women I have known to whom a riding-habit is entirely + becoming, and this group of two—a handsome woman and her handsome + horse—has had a charm for all men ever since horses were tamed and + women began to be beautiful. I thought of my work, of the canvases I meant + to cover, but I felt the charm—and I felt it stirringly. It was a + fine, fresh morning, and the sun just risen. + </p> + <p> + An expression in the lady’s attitude, and air which I instinctively + construed as histrionic, seemed intended to convey that she had been kept + waiting, yet had waited without reproach; and although she must have heard + me coming, she did not look toward me until I was quite near and spoke her + name. At that she sprang up quickly enough, and stretched out her hand to + me. + </p> + <p> + “Run to earth!” she cried, advancing a step to meet me. + </p> + <p> + “A pretty poor trophy of the chase,” said I, “but proud + that you are its killer.” + </p> + <p> + To my surprise and mystification, her cheeks and brow flushed rosily; she + was obviously conscious of it, and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be embarrassed,” she said. + </p> + <h3> + “I!” + </h3> + <p> + “Yes, you, poor man! I suppose I couldn’t have more thoroughly + compromised you. Madame Brossard will never believe in your respectability + again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, she will,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “What? A lodger who has ladies calling upon him at five o’clock + in the morning? But your bundle’s on your shoulder,” she + rattled on, laughing, “though there’s many could be bolder, + and perhaps you’ll let me walk a bit of the way with you, if you’re + for the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I will,” said I. She caught up her riding-skirt, + fastening it by a clasp at her side, and we passed out through the archway + and went slowly along the road bordering the forest, her horse following + obediently at half-rein’s length. + </p> + <p> + “When did you hear that I was at Madame Brossard’s?” I + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ten minutes after I returned to Quesnay, late yesterday afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Louise.” + </p> + <p> + I repeated the name questioningly. “You mean Mrs. Larrabee Harman?” + </p> + <p> + “Louise Harman,” she corrected. “Didn’t you know + she was staying at Quesnay?” + </p> + <p> + “I guessed it, though Amedee got the name confused.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she’s been kind enough to look after the place for us + while we were away. George won’t be back for another ten days, and I’ve + been overseeing an exhibition for him in London. Afterward I did a round + of visits—tiresome enough, but among people it’s well to keep + in touch with on George’s account.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” I said, with a grimness which probably escaped her. + “But how did Mrs. Harman know that I was at Les Trois Pigeons?” + </p> + <p> + “She met you once in the forest—” + </p> + <p> + “Twice,” I interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “She mentioned only once. Of course she’d often heard both + George and me speak of you.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did she know it was I and where I was staying?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that?” Her smile changed to a laugh. “Your maitre d’hotel + told Ferret, a gardener at Quesnay, that you were at the inn.” + </p> + <p> + “He did!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but you mustn’t be angry with him; he made it quite all + right.” + </p> + <p> + “How did he do that?” I asked, trying to speak calmly, though + there was that in my mind which might have blanched the parchment cheek of + a grand inquisitor. + </p> + <p> + “He told Ferret that you were very anxious not to have it known—” + </p> + <p> + “You call that making it all right?” + </p> + <p> + “For himself, I mean. He asked Ferret not to mention who it was that + told him.” + </p> + <p> + “The rascal!” I cried. “The treacherous, brazen—” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunate man,” said Miss Elizabeth, “don’t you + see how clear you’re making it that you really meant to hide from + us?” + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be something in that, and my tirade broke up in confusion. + “Oh, no,” I said lamely, “I hoped—I hoped—” + </p> + <p> + “Be careful!” + </p> + <p> + “No; I hoped to work down here,” I blurted. “And I + thought if I saw too much of you—I might not.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with widening eyes. “And I can take my choice,” + she cried, “of all the different things you may mean by that! It’s + either the most outrageous speech I ever heard—or the most + flattering.” + </p> + <p> + “But I meant simply—” + </p> + <p> + “No.” She lifted her hand and stopped me. “I’d + rather believe that I have at least the choice—and let it go at + that.” And as I began to laugh, she turned to me with a gravity + apparently so genuine that for the moment I was fatuous enough to believe + that she had said it seriously. Ensued a pause of some duration, which, + for my part, I found disturbing. She broke it with a change of subject. + </p> + <p> + “You think Louise very lovely to look at, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Exquisite,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “Every one does.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she told you—” and now I felt myself growing + red—“that I behaved like a drunken acrobat when she came upon + me in the path.” + </p> + <p> + “No. Did you?” cried Miss Elizabeth, with a ready credulity + which I thought by no means pretty; indeed, she seemed amused and, to my + surprise (for she is not an unkind woman), rather heartlessly pleased. + “Louise only said she knew it must be you, and that she wished she + could have had a better look at what you were painting.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven bless her!” I exclaimed. “Her reticence was + angelic.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she has reticence,” said my companion, with enough of + the same quality to make me look at her quickly. A thin line had been + drawn across her forehead. + </p> + <p> + “You mean she’s still reticent with George?” I ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered sadly. “Poor George always hopes, of + course, in the silent way of his kind when they suffer from such + unfortunate passions—and he waits.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that former husband of hers recovered?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe he’s still alive somewhere. Locked up, I hope!” + she finished crisply. + </p> + <p> + “She retained his name,” I observed. + </p> + <p> + “Harman? Yes, she retained it,” said my companion rather + shortly. + </p> + <p> + “At all events, she’s rid of him, isn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she’s RID of him!” Her tone implied an enigmatic + reservation of some kind. + </p> + <p> + “It’s hard,” I reflected aloud, “hard to + understand her making that mistake, young as she was. Even in the glimpses + of her I’ve had, it was easy to see something of what she’s + like: a fine, rare, high type—” + </p> + <p> + “But you didn’t know HIM, did you?” Miss Elizabeth asked + with some dryness. + </p> + <p> + “No,” I answered. “I saw him twice; once at the time of + his accident—that was only a nightmare, his face covered with—” + I shivered. “But I had caught a glimpse of him on the boulevard, and + of all the dreadful—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but he wasn’t always dreadful,” she interposed + quickly. “He was a fascinating sort of person, quite charming and + good-looking, when she ran away with him, though he was horribly + dissipated even then. He always had been THAT. Of course she thought she’d + be able to straighten him out—poor girl! She tried, for three years—three + years it hurts one to think of! You see it must have been something very + like a ‘grand passion’ to hold her through a pain three years + long.” + </p> + <p> + “Or tremendous pride,” said I. “Women make an odd world + of it for the rest of us. There was good old George, as true and straight + a man as ever lived—” + </p> + <p> + “And she took the other! Yes.” George’s sister laughed + sorrowfully. + </p> + <p> + “But George and she have both survived the mistake,” I went on + with confidence. “Her tragedy must have taught her some important + differences. Haven’t you a notion she’ll be tremendously glad + to see him when he comes back from America?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I do hope so!” she cried. “You see, I’m + fearing that he hopes so too—to the degree of counting on it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t count on it yourself?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “With any other woman I should.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not with Mrs. Harman?” + </p> + <p> + “Cousin Louise has her ways,” said Miss Elizabeth slowly, and, + whether she could not further explain her doubts, or whether she would + not, that was all I got out of her on the subject at the time. I asked one + or two more questions, but my companion merely shook her head again, + alluding vaguely to her cousin’s “ways.” Then she + brightened suddenly, and inquired when I would have my things sent up to + the chateau from the inn. + </p> + <p> + At the risk of a misunderstanding which I felt I could ill afford, I + resisted her kind hospitality, and the outcome of it was that there should + be a kind of armistice, to begin with my dining at the chateau that + evening. Thereupon she mounted to the saddle, a bit of gymnastics for + which she declined my assistance, and looked down upon me from a great + height. + </p> + <p> + “Did anybody ever tell you,” was her surprising inquiry, + “that you are the queerest man of these times?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I answered. “Don’t you think you’re a + queerer woman?” + </p> + <p> + “FOOTLE!” she cried scornfully. “Be off to your woods + and your woodscaping!” + </p> + <p> + The bay horse departed at a smart gait, not, I was glad to see, a parkish + trot—Miss Elizabeth wisely set limits to her sacrifices to Mode—and + she was far down the road before I had passed the outer fringe of trees. + </p> + <p> + My work was accomplished after a fashion more or less desultory that day; + I had many absent moments, was restless, and walked more than I painted. + Oliver Saffron did not join me in the late afternoon; nor did the echo of + distant yodelling bespeak any effort on his part to find me. So I gave him + up, and returned to the inn earlier than usual. + </p> + <p> + While dressing I sent word to Professor Keredec that I should not be able + to join him at dinner that evening; and it is to be recorded that Glouglou + carried the message for me. Amedee did not appear, from which it may be + inferred that our maitre d’hotel was subject to lucid intervals. + Certainly his present shyness indicated an intelligence of no low order. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + The dining-room at Quesnay is a pretty work of the second of those three + Louises who made so much furniture. It was never a proper setting for a + rusty, out-of-doors painter-man, nor has such a fellow ever found himself + complacently at ease there since the day its first banquet was spread for + a score or so of fine-feathered epigram jinglers, fiddling Versailles + gossip out of a rouge-and-lace Quesnay marquise newly sent into + half-earnest banishment for too much king-hunting. For my part, however, I + should have preferred a chance at making a place for myself among the wigs + and brocades to the Crusoe’s Isle of my chair at Miss Elizabeth’s + table. + </p> + <p> + I learned at an early age to look my vanities in the face; I outfaced them + and they quailed, but persisted, surviving for my discomfort to this day. + Here is the confession: It was not until my arrival at the chateau that I + realised what temerity it involved to dine there in evening clothes + purchased, some four or five or six years previously, in the economical + neighbourhood of the Boulevard St. Michel. Yet the things fitted me well + enough; were clean and not shiny, having been worn no more than a dozen + times, I think; though they might have been better pressed. + </p> + <p> + Looking over the men of the Quesnay party—or perhaps I should + signify a reversal of that and say a glance of theirs at me—revealed + the importance of a particular length of coat-tail, of a certain rich + effect obtained by widely separating the lower points of the waistcoat, of + the display of some imagination in the buttons upon the same garment, of a + doubled-back arrangement of cuffs, and of a specific design and dimension + of tie. Marked uniformity in these matters denoted their necessity; and + clothes differing from the essential so vitally as did mine must have + seemed immodest, little better than no clothes at all. I doubt if I could + have argued in extenuation my lack of advantages for study, such an excuse + being itself the damning circumstance. Of course eccentricity is + permitted, but (as in the Arts) only to the established. And I recall a + painful change of colour which befell the countenance of a shining young + man I met at Ward’s house in Paris: he had used his handkerchief and + was absently putting it in his pocket when he providentially noticed what + he was doing and restored it to his sleeve. + </p> + <p> + Miss Elizabeth had the courage to take me under her wing, placing me upon + her left at dinner; but sprightlier calls than mine demanded and occupied + her attention. At my other side sat a magnificently upholstered lady, who + offered a fine shoulder and the rear wall of a collar of pearls for my + observation throughout the evening, as she leaned forward talking eagerly + with a male personage across the table. This was a prince, ending in + “ski”: he permitted himself the slight vagary of wearing a + gold bracelet, and perhaps this flavour of romance drew the lady. Had my + good fortune ever granted a second meeting, I should not have known her. + </p> + <p> + Fragments reaching me in my seclusion indicated that the various + conversations up and down the long table were animated; and at times some + topic proved of such high interest as to engage the comment of the whole + company. This was the case when the age of one of the English king’s + grandchildren came in question, but a subject which called for even longer + (if less spirited) discourse concerned the shameful lack of standard on + the part of citizens of the United States, or, as it was put, with no + little exasperation, “What is the trouble with America?” + Hereupon brightly gleamed the fat young man whom I had marked for a wit at + Les Trois Pigeons; he pictured with inimitable mimicry a western senator + lately in France. This outcast, it appeared, had worn a slouch hat at a + garden party and had otherwise betrayed his country to the ridicule of the + intelligent. “But really,” said the fat young man, turning + plaintiff in conclusion, “imagine what such things make the English + and the French think of US!” And it finally went by consent that the + trouble with America was the vulgarity of our tourists. + </p> + <p> + “A dreadful lot!” Miss Elizabeth cheerfully summed up for them + all. “The miseries I undergo with that class of ‘prominent + Amurricans’ who bring letters to my brother! I remember one awful + creature who said, when I came into the room, ‘Well, ma’am, I + guess you’re the lady of the house, aren’t you?’” + </p> + <p> + Miss Elizabeth sparkled through the chorus of laughter, but I remembered + the “awful creature,” a genial and wise old man of affairs, + whose daughter’s portrait George painted. Miss Elizabeth had missed + his point: the canvasser’s phrase had been intended with humour, and + even had it lacked that, it was not without a pretty quaintness. So I + thought, being “left to my own reflections,” which may have + partaken of my own special kind of snobbery; at least I regretted the + Elizabeth of the morning garden and the early walk along the fringe of the + woods. For she at my side to-night was another lady. + </p> + <p> + The banquet was drawing to a close when she leaned toward me and spoke in + an undertone. As this was the first sign, in so protracted a period, that + I might ever again establish relations with the world of men, it came upon + me like a Friday’s footprint, and in the moment of shock I did not + catch what she said. + </p> + <p> + “Anne Elliott, yonder, is asking you a question,” she + repeated, nodding at a very pretty gal down and across the table from me. + Miss Anne Elliott’s attractive voice had previously enabled me to + recognise her as the young woman who had threatened to serenade Les Trois + Pigeons. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” I said, addressing her, and at the sound + my obscurity was illuminated, about half of the company turning to look at + me with wide-eyed surprise. (I spoke in an ordinary tone, it may need to + be explained, and there is nothing remarkable about my voice). + </p> + <p> + “I hear you’re at Les Trois Pigeons,” said Miss Elliott. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “WOULD you mind telling us something of the MYSTERIOUS Narcissus?” + </p> + <p> + “If you’ll be more definite,” I returned, in the tone of + a question. + </p> + <p> + “There couldn’t be more than one like THAT,” said Miss + Elliott, “at least, not in one neighbourhood, could there? I mean a + RECKLESSLY charming vision with a WHITE tie and WHITE hair and WHITE + flannels.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said I, “HE’S not mysterious.” + </p> + <p> + “But he IS,” she returned; “I insist on his being + MYSTERIOUS! Rarely, grandly, STRANGELY mysterious! You WILL let me think + so?” This young lady had a whimsical manner of emphasising words + unexpectedly, with a breathless intensity that approached violence, a + habit dangerously contagious among nervous persons, so that I answered + slowly, out of a fear that I might echo it. + </p> + <p> + “It would need a great deal of imagination. He’s a young + American, very attractive, very simple—” + </p> + <p> + “But he’s MAD!” she interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” I said hastily. + </p> + <p> + “But he IS! A person told me so in a garden this VERY afternoon,” + she went on eagerly; “a person with a rake and EVER so many moles on + his chin. This person told me all about him. His name is Oliver Saffren, + and he’s in the charge of a VERY large doctor and quite, QUITE mad!” + </p> + <p> + “Jean Ferret, the gardener.” I said deliberately, and with + venom, “is fast acquiring notoriety in these parts as an idiot of + purest ray, and he had his information from another whose continuance + unhanged is every hour more miraculous.” + </p> + <p> + “How RUTHLESS of you,” cried Miss Elliott, with exaggerated + reproach, “when I have had such a thrilling happiness all day in + believing that RIOTOUSLY beautiful creature mad! You are wholly positive + he isn’t?” + </p> + <p> + Our dialogue was now all that delayed a general departure from the table. + This, combined with the naive surprise I have mentioned, served to make us + temporarily the centre of attention, and, among the faces turned toward + me, my glance fell unexpectedly upon one I had not seen since entering the + dining-room. Mrs. Harman had been placed at some distance from me and on + the same side of the table, but now she leaned far back in her chair to + look at me, so that I saw her behind the shoulders of the people between + us. She was watching me with an expression unmistakably of repressed + anxiety and excitement, and as our eyes met, hers shone with a certain + agitation, as of some odd consciousness shared with me. It was so + strangely, suddenly a reminder of the look of secret understanding given + me with good night, twenty-four hours earlier, by the man whose sanity was + Miss Elliott’s topic, that, puzzled and almost disconcerted for the + moment, I did not at once reply to the lively young lady’s question. + </p> + <p> + “You’re hesitating!” she cried, clasping her hands. + “I believe there’s a DARLING little chance of it, after all! + And if it weren’t so, why would he need to be watched over, day AND + night, by an ENORMOUS doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “This IS romance!” I retorted. “The doctor is Professor + Keredec, illustriously known in this country, but not as a physician, and + they are following some form of scientific research together, I believe. + But, assuming to speak as Mr. Saffren’s friend,” I added, + rising with the others upon Miss Ward’s example, “I’m + sure if he could come to know of your interest, he would much rather play + Hamlet for you than let you find him disappointing.” + </p> + <p> + “If he could come to know of my interest!” she echoed, + glancing down at herself with mock demureness. “Don’t you + think he could come to know something more of me than that?” + </p> + <p> + The windows had been thrown open, allowing passage to a veranda. Miss + Elizabeth led the way outdoors with the prince, the rest of us following + at hazard, and in the mild confusion of this withdrawal I caught a final + glimpse of Mrs. Harman, which revealed that she was still looking at me + with the same tensity; but with the movement of intervening groups I lost + her. Miss Elliott pointedly waited for me until I came round the table, + attached me definitely by taking my arm, accompanying her action with a + dazzling smile. “Oh, DO you think you can manage it?” she + whispered rapturously, to which I replied—as vaguely as I could—that + the demands of scientific research upon the time of its followers were apt + to be exorbitant. + </p> + <p> + Tables and coffee were waiting on the broad terrace below, with a big moon + rising in the sky. I descended the steps in charge of this pretty + cavalier, allowed her to seat me at the most remote of the tables, and + accepted without unwillingness other gallantries of hers in the matter of + coffee and cigarettes. “And now,” she said, “now that I’ve + done so much for your DEAREST hopes and comfort, look up at the milky + moon, and tell me ALL!” + </p> + <p> + “If you can bear it?” + </p> + <p> + She leaned an elbow on the marble railing that protected the terrace, and, + shielding her eyes from the moonlight with her hand, affected to gaze at + me dramatically. “Have no distrust,” she bade me. “Who + and WHAT is the glorious stranger?” + </p> + <p> + Resisting an impulse to chime in with her humour, I gave her so dry and + commonplace an account of my young friend at the inn that I presently + found myself abandoned to solitude again. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know where to go,” she complained as she rose. + “These other people are MOST painful to a girl of my intelligence, + but I cannot linger by your side; untruth long ago lost its interest for + me, and I prefer to believe Mr. Jean Ferret—if that is the gentleman’s + name. I’d join Miss Ward and Cressie Ingle yonder, but Cressie WOULD + be indignant! I shall soothe my hurt with SWEETEST airs. Adieu.” + </p> + <p> + With that she made me a solemn courtesy and departed, a pretty little + figure, not little in attractiveness, the strong moonlight, tinged with + blue, shimmering over her blond hair and splashing brightly among the + ripples of her silks and laces. She swept across the terrace languidly, + offering an effect of comedy not unfairylike, and, ascending the steps of + the veranda, disappeared into the orange candle-light of a salon. A moment + later some chords were sounded firmly upon a piano in that room, and a + bitter song swam out to me over the laughter and talk of the people at the + other tables. It was to be observed that Miss Anne Elliott sang very well, + though I thought she over-emphasised one line of the stanza: + </p> + <p> + “This world is a world of lies!” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps she had poisoned another little arrow for me, too. Impelled by the + fine night, the groups upon the terrace were tending toward a wider + dispersal, drifting over the sloping lawns by threes and couples, and I + was able to identify two figures threading the paths of the garden, + together, some distance below. Judging by the pace they kept, I should + have concluded that Miss Ward and Mr. Cresson Ingle sought the healthful + effects of exercise. However, I could see no good reason for wishing their + conversation less obviously absorbing, though Miss Elliott’s + insinuation that Mr. Ingle might deplore intrusion upon the interview had + struck me as too definite to be altogether pleasing. Still, such matters + could not discontent me with my solitude. Eastward, over the moonlit roof + of the forest, I could see the quiet ocean, its unending lines of foam + moving slowly to the long beaches, too far away to be heard. The + reproachful voice of the singer came no more from the house, but the piano + ran on into “La Vie de Boheme,” and out of that into something + else, I did not know what, but it seemed to be music; at least it was + musical enough to bring before me some memory of the faces of pretty girls + I had danced with long ago in my dancing days, so that, what with the + music, and the distant sea, and the soft air, so sparklingly full of + moonshine, and the little dancing memories, I was floated off into a + reverie that was like a prelude for the person who broke it. She came so + quietly that I did not hear her until she was almost beside me and spoke + to me. It was the second time that had happened. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + “Mrs. Harman,” I said, as she took the chair vacated by the + elfin young lady, “you see I can manage it! But perhaps I control + myself better when there’s no camp-stool to inspire me. You remember + my woodland didoes—I fear?” + </p> + <p> + She smiled in a pleasant, comprehending way, but neither directly replied + nor made any return speech whatever; instead, she let her forearms rest on + the broad railing of the marble balustrade, and, leaning forward, gazed + out over the shining and mysterious slopes below. Somehow it seemed to me + that her not answering, and her quiet action, as well as the thoughtful + attitude in which it culminated, would have been thought “very like + her” by any one who knew her well. “Cousin Louise has her + ways,” Miss Elizabeth had told me; this was probably one of them, + and I found it singularly attractive. For that matter, from the day of my + first sight of her in the woods I had needed no prophet to tell me I + should like Mrs. Harman’s ways. + </p> + <p> + “After the quiet you have had here, all this must seem,” I + said, looking down upon the strollers, “a usurpation.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they!” She disposed of Quesnay’s guests with a + slight movement of her left hand. “You’re an old friend of my + cousins—of both of them; but even without that, I know you + understand. Elizabeth does it all for her brother, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “But she likes it,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “And Mr. Ward likes it, too,” she added slowly. “You’ll + see, when he comes home.” + </p> + <p> + Night’s effect upon me being always to make me venturesome, I took a + chance, and ventured perhaps too far. “I hope we’ll see many + happy things when he comes home.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s her doing things of this sort,” she said, giving + no sign of having heard my remark, “that has helped so much to make + him the success that he is.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s what has been death to his art!” I exclaimed, too + quickly—and would have been glad to recall the speech. + </p> + <p> + She met it with a murmur of low laughter that sounded pitying. “Wasn’t + it always a dubious relation—between him and art?” And without + awaiting an answer, she went on, “So it’s all the better that + he can have his success!” + </p> + <p> + To this I had nothing whatever to say. So far as I remembered, I had never + before heard a woman put so much comprehension of a large subject into so + few words, but in my capacity as George’s friend, hopeful for his + happiness, it made me a little uneasy. During the ensuing pause this + feeling, at first uppermost, gave way to another not at all in sequence, + but irresponsible and intuitive, that she had something in particular to + say to me, had joined me for that purpose, and was awaiting the + opportunity. As I have made open confession, my curiosity never needed the + spur; and there is no denying that this impression set it off on the + gallop; but evidently the moment had not come for her to speak. She seemed + content to gaze out over the valley in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cresson Ingle,” I hazarded; “is he an old, new + friend of your cousins? I think he was not above the horizon when I went + to Capri, two years ago?” + </p> + <p> + “He wants Elizabeth,” she returned, adding quietly, “as + you’ve seen.” And when I had verified this assumption with a + monosyllable, she continued, “He’s an ‘available,’ + but I should hate to have it happen. He’s hard.” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t seem very hard toward her,” I murmured, + looking down into the garden where Mr. Ingle just then happened to be + adjusting a scarf about his hostess’s shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “He’s led a detestable life,” said Mrs. Harman, “among + detestable people!” + </p> + <p> + She spoke with sudden, remarkable vigour, and as if she knew. The + full-throated emphasis she put upon “detestable” gave the word + the sting of a flagellation; it rang with a rightful indignation that + brought vividly to my mind the thought of those three years in Mrs. Harman’s + life which Elizabeth said “hurt one to think of.” For this was + the lady who had rejected good George Ward to run away with a man much + deeper in all that was detestable than Mr. Cresson Ingle could ever be! + </p> + <p> + “He seems to me much of a type with these others,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they keep their surfaces about the same.” + </p> + <p> + “It made me wish <i>I</i> had a little more surface to-night,” + I laughed. “I’d have fitted better. Miss Ward is different at + different times. When we are alone together she always has the air of + excusing, or at least explaining, these people to me, but this evening I’ve + had the disquieting thought that perhaps she also explained me to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” said Mrs. Harman, turning to me quickly. “Didn’t + you see? She was making up to Mr. Ingle for this morning. It came out that + she’d ridden over at daylight to see you; Anne Elliott discovered it + in some way and told him.” + </p> + <p> + This presented an aspect of things so overwhelmingly novel that out of a + confusion of ideas I was able to fasten on only one with which to continue + the conversation, and I said irrelevantly that Miss Elliott was a + remarkable young woman. At this my companion, who had renewed her + observation of the valley, gave me a full, clear look of earnest scrutiny, + which set me on the alert, for I thought that now what she desired to say + was coming. But I was disappointed, for she spoke lightly, with a ripple + of amusement. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she finished her investigations? You told her all you + could?” + </p> + <p> + “Almost.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you wouldn’t trust ME with the reservation?” + she asked, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I would trust you with anything,” I answered seriously. + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t gratify that child?” she said, half + laughing. Then, to my surprise, her tone changed suddenly, and she began + again in a hurried low voice: “You didn’t tell her—” + and stopped there, breathless and troubled, letting me see that I had been + right after all: this was what she wanted to talk about. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t tell her that young Saffren is mad, no; if that is + what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad you didn’t,” she said slowly, sinking + back in her chair so that her face was in the shadow of the awning which + sheltered the little table between us. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, I wouldn’t have told her even if it were + true,” I returned, “and in the second, it isn’t true—though + YOU have some reason to think it is,” I added. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i>?” she said. “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “His speaking to you as he did; a thing on the face of it + inexcusable—” + </p> + <p> + “Why did he call me ‘Madame d’Armand’?” she + interposed. + </p> + <p> + I explained something of the mental processes of Amedee, and she listened + till I had finished; then bade me continue. + </p> + <p> + “That’s all,” I said blankly, but, with a second + thought, caught her meaning. “Oh, about young Saffren, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I know him pretty well,” I said, “without really + knowing anything about him; but what is stranger, I believe he doesn’t + really know a great deal about himself. Of course I have a theory about + him, though it’s vague. My idea is that probably through some great + illness he lost—not his faculty of memory, but his memories, or, at + least, most of them. In regard to what he does remember, Professor Keredec + has anxiously impressed upon him some very poignant necessity for + reticence. What the necessity may be, or the nature of the professor’s + anxieties, I do not know, but I think Keredec’s reasons must be good + ones. That’s all, except that there’s something about the + young man that draws one to him: I couldn’t tell you how much I like + him, nor how sorry I am that he offended you.” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t offend me,” she murmured—almost + whispered. + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t mean to,” I said warmly. “You + understood that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I understood.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad. I’d been waiting the chance to try to explain—to + ask you to pardon him—” + </p> + <p> + “But there wasn’t any need.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean because you understood—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she interrupted gently, “not only that. I mean + because he has done it himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Asked your pardon?” I said, in complete surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s written you?” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “No. I saw him to-day,” she answered. “This afternoon + when I went for my walk, he was waiting where the paths intersect—” + </p> + <p> + Some hasty ejaculation, I do not know what, came from me, but she lifted + her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she said quietly. “As soon as he saw me he came + straight toward me—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but this won’t do at all,” I broke out. “It’s + too bad—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait.” She leaned forward slightly, lifting her hand again. + “He called me ‘Madame d’Armand,’ and said he must + know if he had offended me.” + </p> + <p> + “You told him—” + </p> + <p> + “I told him ‘No!’” And it seemed to me that her + voice, which up to this point had been low but very steady, shook upon the + monosyllable. “He walked with me a little way—perhaps It was + longer—” + </p> + <p> + “Trust me that it sha’n’t happen again!” I + exclaimed. “I’ll see that Keredec knows of this at once. He + will—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she interrupted quickly, “that is just what I + want you not to do. Will you promise me?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll promise anything you ask me. But didn’t he + frighten you? Didn’t he talk wildly? Didn’t he—” + </p> + <p> + “He didn’t frighten me—not as you mean. He was very + quiet and—” She broke off unexpectedly, with a little pitying + cry, and turned to me, lifting both hands appealingly—“And oh, + doesn’t he make one SORRY for him!” + </p> + <p> + That was just it. She had gone straight to the heart of his mystery: his + strangeness was the strange PATHOS that invested him; the “singularity” + of “that other monsieur” was solved for me at last. + </p> + <p> + When she had spoken she rose, advanced a step, and stood looking out over + the valley again, her skirts pressing the balustrade. One of the moments + in my life when I have wished to be a figure painter came then, as she + raised her arms, the sleeves, of some filmy texture, falling back from + them with the gesture, and clasped her hands lightly behind her neck, the + graceful angle of her chin uplifted to the full rain of moonshine. Little + Miss Elliott, in the glamour of these same blue showerings, had borrowed + gauzy weavings of the fay and the sprite, but Mrs. Harman—tall, + straight, delicate to fragility, yet not to thinness—was + transfigured with a deeper meaning, wearing the sadder, richer colours of + the tragedy that her cruel young romance had put upon her. She might have + posed as she stood against the marble railing—and especially in that + gesture of lifting her arms—for a bearer of the gift at some + foredestined luckless ceremony of votive offerings. So it seemed, at + least, to the eyes of a moon-dazed old painter-man. + </p> + <p> + She stood in profile to me; there were some jasmine flowers at her breast; + I could see them rise and fall with more than deep breathing; and I + wondered what the man who had talked of her so wildly, only yesterday, + would feel if he could know that already the thought of him had moved her. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t HAD my life. It’s gone!” It was almost + as if I heard his voice, close at hand, with all the passion of regret and + protest that rang in the words when they broke from him in the forest. And + by some miraculous conjecture, within the moment I seemed not only to hear + his voice but actually to see him, a figure dressed in white, far below us + and small with the distance, standing out in the moonlight in the middle + of the tree-bordered avenue leading to the chateau gates. + </p> + <p> + I rose and leaned over the railing. There was no doubt about the reality + of the figure in white, though it was too far away to be identified with + certainty; and as I rubbed my eyes for clearer sight, it turned and + disappeared into the shadows of the orderly grove where I had stood, one + day, to watch Louise Harman ascend the slopes of Quesnay. But I told + myself, sensibly, that more than one man on the coast of Normandy might be + wearing white flannels that evening, and, turning to my companion, found + that she had moved some steps away from me and was gazing eastward to the + sea. I concluded that she had not seen the figure. + </p> + <p> + “I have a request to make of you,” she said, as I turned. + “Will you do it for me—setting it down just as a whim, if you + like, and letting it go at that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will,” I answered promptly. “I’ll do + anything you ask.” + </p> + <p> + She stepped closer, looked at me intently for a second, bit her lip in + indecision, then said, all in a breath: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell Mr. Saffren my name!” + </p> + <p> + “But I hadn’t meant to,” I protested. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t speak of me to him at all,” she said, with the + same hurried eagerness. “Will you let me have my way?” + </p> + <p> + “Could there be any question of that?” I replied, and to my + astonishment found that we had somehow impulsively taken each other’s + hands, as upon a serious bargain struck between us. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + The round moon was white and at its smallest, high overhead, when I + stepped out of the phaeton in which Miss Elizabeth sent me back to Madame + Brossard’s; midnight was twanging from a rusty old clock indoors as + I crossed the fragrant courtyard to my pavilion; but a lamp still burned + in the salon of the “Grande Suite,” a light to my mind more + suggestive of the patient watcher than of the scholar at his tome. + </p> + <p> + When my own lamp was extinguished, I set my door ajar, moved my bed out + from the wall to catch whatever breeze might stir, “composed myself + for the night,” as it used to be written, and lay looking out upon + the quiet garden where a thin white haze was rising. If, in taking this + coign of vantage, I had any subtler purpose than to seek a draught against + the warmth of the night, it did not fail of its reward, for just as I had + begun to drowse, the gallery steps creaked as if beneath some immoderate + weight, and the noble form of Keredec emerged upon my field of vision. + From the absence of the sound of footsteps I supposed him to be either + barefooted or in his stockings. His visible costume consisted of a + sleeping jacket tucked into a pair of trousers, while his tousled hair and + beard and generally tossed and rumpled look were those of a man who had + been lying down temporarily. + </p> + <p> + I heard him sigh—like one sighing for sleep—as he went + noiselessly across the garden and out through the archway to the road. At + that I sat straight up in bed to stare—and well I might, for here + was a miracle! He had lifted his arms above his head to stretch himself + comfortably, and he walked upright and at ease, whereas when I had last + seen him, the night before, he had been able to do little more than crawl, + bent far over and leaning painfully upon his friend. Never man beheld a + more astonishing recovery from a bad case of rheumatism! + </p> + <p> + After a long look down the road, he retraced his steps; and the moonlight, + striking across his great forehead as he came, revealed the furrows + ploughed there by an anxiety of which I guessed the cause. The creaking of + the wooden stairs and gallery and the whine of an old door announced that + he had returned to his vigil. + </p> + <p> + I had, perhaps, a quarter of an hour to consider this performance, when it + was repeated; now, however, he only glanced out into the road, retreating + hastily, and I saw that he was smiling, while the speed he maintained in + returning to his quarters was remarkable for one so newly convalescent. + </p> + <p> + The next moment Saffron came through the archway, ascended the steps in + turn—but slowly and carefully, as if fearful of waking his guardian—and + I heard his door closing, very gently. Long before his arrival, however, I + had been certain of his identity with the figure I had seen gazing up at + the terraces of Quesnay from the borders of the grove. Other questions + remained to bother me: Why had Keredec not prevented this night-roving, + and why, since he did permit it, should he conceal his knowledge of it + from Oliver? And what, oh, what wondrous specific had the mighty man found + for his disease? + </p> + <p> + Morning failed to clarify these mysteries; it brought, however, something + rare and rich and strange. I allude to the manner of Amedee’s + approach. The aged gossip-demoniac had to recognise the fact that he could + not keep out of my way for ever; there was nothing for it but to put as + good a face as possible upon a bad business, and get it over—and the + face he selected was a marvel; not less, and in no hasty sense of the + word. + </p> + <p> + It appeared at my door to announce that breakfast waited outside. + </p> + <p> + Primarily it displayed an expression of serenity, masterly in its + assumption that not the least, remotest, dreamiest shadow of danger could + possibly be conceived, by the most immoderately pessimistic and sinister + imagination, as even vaguely threatening. And for the rest, you have seen + a happy young mother teaching first steps to the first-born—that was + Amedee. Radiantly tender, aggressively solicitous, diffusing ineffable + sweetness on the air, wreathed in seraphic smiles, beaming caressingly, + and aglow with a sacred joy that I should be looking so well, he greeted + me in a voice of honey and bowed me to my repast with an unconcealed + fondness at once maternal and reverential. + </p> + <p> + I did not attempt to speak. I came out silently, uncannily fascinated, my + eyes fixed upon him, while he moved gently backward, cooing pleasant words + about the coffee, but just perceptibly keeping himself out of arm’s + reach until I had taken my seat. When I had done that, he leaned over the + table and began to set useless things nearer my plate with frankly + affectionate care. It chanced that in “making a long arm” to + reach something I did want, my hand (of which the fingers happened to be + closed) passed rather impatiently beneath his nose. The madonna expression + changed instantly to one of horror, he uttered a startled croak, and took + a surprisingly long skip backward, landing in the screen of honeysuckle + vines, which, he seemed to imagine, were some new form of hostility + attacking him treacherously from the rear. They sagged, but did not break + from their fastenings, and his behaviour, as he lay thus entangled, would + have contrasted unfavourably in dignity with the actions of a + panic-stricken hen in a hammock. + </p> + <p> + “And so conscience DOES make cowards of us all,” I said, with + no hope of being understood. + </p> + <p> + Recovering some measure of mental equilibrium at the same time that he + managed to find his feet, he burst into shrill laughter, to which he tried + in vain to impart a ring of debonair carelessness. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, I stumble!” he cried with hollow merriment. “I fall + about and faint with fatigue! Pah! But it is nothing: truly!” + </p> + <p> + “Fatigue!” I turned a bitter sneer upon him. “Fatigue! + And you just out of bed!” + </p> + <p> + His fat hands went up palm outward; his heroic laughter was checked as + with a sob; an expression of tragic incredulity shone from his eyes. + Patently he doubted the evidence of his own ears; could not believe that + such black ingratitude existed in the world. “Absalom, O my son + Absalom!” was his unuttered cry. His hands fell to his sides; his + chin sank wretchedly into its own folds; his shirt-bosom heaved and + crinkled; arrows of unspeakable injustice had entered the defenceless + breast. + </p> + <p> + “Just out of bed!” he repeated, with a pathos that would have + brought the judge of any court in France down from the bench to kiss him—“And + I had risen long, long before the dawn, in the cold and darkness of the + night, to prepare the sandwiches of monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + It was too much for me, or rather, he was. I stalked off to the woods in a + state of helpless indignation; mentally swearing that his day of + punishment at my hands was only deferred, not abandoned, yet secretly + fearing that this very oath might live for no purpose but to convict me of + perjury. His talents were lost in the country; he should have sought his + fortune in the metropolis. And his manner, as he summoned me that evening + to dinner, and indeed throughout the courses, partook of the subtle + condescension and careless assurance of one who has but faintly enjoyed + some too easy triumph. + </p> + <p> + I found this so irksome that I might have been goaded into an outbreak of + impotent fury, had my attention not been distracted by the curious turn of + the professor’s malady, which had renewed its painful assault upon + him. He came hobbling to table, leaning upon Saffren’s shoulder, and + made no reference to his singular improvement of the night before—nor + did I. His rheumatism was his own; he might do what he pleased with it! + There was no reason why he should confide the cause of its vagaries to me. + </p> + <p> + Table-talk ran its normal course; a great Pole’s philosophy + receiving flagellation at the hands of our incorrigible optimist. (“If + he could understand,” exclaimed Keredec, “that the individual + must be immortal before it is born, ha! then this babbler might have + writted some intelligence!”) On the surface everything was as usual + with our trio, with nothing to show any turbulence of under-currents, + unless it was a certain alertness in Oliver’s manner, a restrained + excitement, and the questioning restlessness of his eyes as they sought + mine from time to time. Whatever he wished to ask me, he was given no + opportunity, for the professor carried him off to work when our coffee was + finished. As they departed, the young man glanced back at me over his + shoulder, with that same earnest look of interrogation, but it went + unanswered by any token or gesture: for though I guessed that he wished to + know if Mrs. Harman had spoken of him to me, it seemed part of my bargain + with her to give him no sign that I understood. + </p> + <p> + A note lay beside my plate next morning, addressed in a writing strange to + me, one of dashing and vigorous character. + </p> + <p> + “In the pursuit of thrillingly scientific research,” it read, + “what with the tumult which possessed me, I forgot to mention the + bond that links us; I, too, am a painter, though as yet unhonoured and + unhung. It must be only because I lack a gentle hand to guide me. If I + might sit beside you as you paint! The hours pass on leaden wings at + Quesnay—I could shriek! Do not refuse me a few words of instruction, + either in the wildwood, whither I could support your shrinking steps, or, + from time to time, as you work in your studio, which (I glean from the + instructive Mr. Ferret) is at Les Trois Pigeons. At any hour, at any + moment, I will speed to you. I am, sir, + </p> + <p> + “Yours, if you will but breathe a ‘yes,’ + </p> + <h3> + “ANNE ELLIOTT.” + </h3> + <p> + To this I returned a reply, as much in her own key as I could write it, + putting my refusal on the ground that I was not at present painting in the + studio. I added that I hoped her suit might prosper, regretting that I + could not be of greater assistance to that end, and concluded with the + suggestion that Madame Brossard might entertain an offer for lessons in + cooking. + </p> + <p> + The result of my attempt to echo her vivacity was discomfiting, and I was + allowed to perceive that epistolary jocularity was not thought to be my + line. It was Miss Elizabeth who gave me this instruction three days later, + on the way to Quesnay for “second breakfast.” Exercising + fairly shame-faced diplomacy, I had avoided dining at the chateau again, + but, by arrangement, she had driven over for me this morning in the + phaeton. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you writing silly notes to that child?” she demanded, + as soon as we were away from the inn. + </p> + <p> + “Was it silly?” + </p> + <p> + “You should know. Do you think that style of humour suitable for a + young girl?” + </p> + <p> + This bewildered me a little. “But there wasn’t anything + offensive—” + </p> + <p> + “No?” Miss Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows to a height of bland + inquiry. “She mightn’t think it rather—well, rough? Your + suggesting that she should take cooking lessons?” + </p> + <p> + “But SHE suggested she might take PAINTING lessons,” was my + feeble protest. “I only meant to show her I understood that she + wanted to get to the inn.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should she care to ‘get to the inn’?” + </p> + <p> + “She seemed interested in a young man who is staying there. + 'Interested’ is the mildest word for it I can think of.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” Such was Miss Ward’s enigmatic retort, and + though I begged an explanation I got none. Instead, she quickened the + horse’s gait and changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + At the chateau, having a mind to offer some sort of apology, I looked + anxiously about for the subject of our rather disquieting conversation, + but she was not to be seen until the party assembled at the table, set + under an awning on the terrace. Then, to my disappointment, I found no + opportunity to speak to her, for her seat was so placed as to make it + impossible, and she escaped into the house immediately upon the conclusion + of the repast, hurrying away too pointedly for any attempt to detain her—though, + as she passed, she sent me one glance of meek reproach which she was at + pains to make elaborately distinct. + </p> + <p> + Again taking me for her neighbour at the table, Miss Elizabeth talked to + me at intervals, apparently having nothing, just then, to make up to Mr. + Cresson Ingle, but not long after we rose she accompanied him upon some + excursion of an indefinite nature, which led her from my sight. Thus, the + others making off to cards indoors and what not, I was left to the perusal + of the eighteenth century facade of the chateau, one of the most competent + restorations in that part of France, and of the liveliest interest to the + student or practitioner of architecture. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harman had not appeared at all, having gone to call upon some one at + Dives, I was told, and a servant informing me (on inquiry) that Miss + Elliott had retired to her room, I was thrust upon my own devices indeed, + a condition already closely associated in my mind with this picturesque + spot. The likeliest of my devices—or, at least, the one I hit upon—was + in the nature of an unostentatious retreat. + </p> + <p> + I went home. + </p> + <p> + However, as the day was spoiled for work, I chose a roundabout way, in + fact the longest, and took the high-road to Dives, but neither the road + nor the town itself (when I passed through it) rewarded my vague hope that + I might meet Mrs. Harman, and I strode the long miles in considerable + disgruntlement, for it was largely in that hope that I had gone to + Quesnay. It put me in no merrier mood to find Miss Elizabeth’s + phaeton standing outside the inn in charge of a groom, for my vanity + encouraged the supposition that she had come out of a fear that my + unceremonious departure from Quesnay might have indicated that I was + “hurt,” or considered myself neglected; and I dreaded having + to make explanations. + </p> + <p> + My apprehensions were unfounded; it was not Miss Elizabeth who had come in + the phaeton, though a lady from Quesnay did prove to be the occupant—the + sole occupant—of the courtyard. At sight of her I halted stock-still + under the archway. + </p> + <p> + There she sat, a sketch-book on a green table beside her and a board in + her lap, brazenly painting—and a more blushless piece of assurance + than Miss Anne Elliott thus engaged these eyes have never beheld. + </p> + <p> + She was not so hardened that she did not affect a little timidity at sight + of me, looking away even more quickly than she looked up, while I walked + slowly over to her and took the garden chair beside her. That gave me a + view of her sketch, which was a violent little “lay-in” of + shrubbery, trees, and the sky-line of the inn. To my prodigious surprise + (and, naturally enough, with a degree of pleasure) I perceived that it was + not very bad, not bad at all, indeed. It displayed a sense of values, of + placing, and even, in a young and frantic way, of colour. Here was a young + woman of more than “accomplishments!” + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she said, squeezing one of the tiny tubes almost + dry, and continuing to paint with a fine effect of absorption, “I + HAD to show you that I was in the most ABYSMAL earnest. Will you take me + painting with, you?” + </p> + <p> + “I appreciate your seriousness,” I rejoined. “Has it + been rewarded?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I say? You haven’t told me whether or no I may follow + you to the wildwood.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean, have you caught another glimpse of Mr. Saffren?” + </p> + <p> + At that she showed a prettier colour in her cheeks than any in her + sketch-box, but gave no other sign of shame, nor even of being flustered, + cheerfully replying: + </p> + <p> + “That is far from the point. Do you grant my burning plea?” + </p> + <p> + “I understood I had offended you.” + </p> + <p> + “You did,” she said. “VICIOUSLY!” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” I continued. “I wanted to ask you to + forgive me—” + </p> + <p> + I spoke seriously, and that seemed to strike her as odd or needing + explanation, for she levelled her blue eyes at me, and interrupted, with + something more like seriousness in her own voice than I had yet heard from + her: + </p> + <p> + “What made you think I was offended?” + </p> + <p> + “Your look of reproach when you left the table—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing else?” she asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; Miss Ward told me you were.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she drove over with you. That’s it!” she exclaimed + with vigour, and nodded her head as if some suspicion of hers had been + confirmed. “I thought so!” + </p> + <p> + “You thought she had told me?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Miss Elliott decidedly. “Thought that + Elizabeth wanted to have her cake and eat it too.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you’ll get no help from me,” she returned slowly, + a frown marking her pretty forehead. “But I was only playing + offended, and she knew it. I thought your note was THAT fetching!” + </p> + <p> + She continued to look thoughtful for a moment longer, then with a + resumption of her former manner—the pretence of an earnestness much + deeper than the real—“Will you take me painting with you?” + she said. “If it will convince you that I mean it, I’ll give + up my hopes of seeing that SUMPTUOUS Mr. Saffren and go back to Quesnay + now, before he comes home. He’s been out for a walk—a long + one, since it’s lasted ever since early this morning, so the waiter + told me. May I go with you? You CAN’T know how enervating it is up + there at the chateau—all except Mrs. Harman, and even she—” + </p> + <p> + “What about Mrs. Harman?” I asked, as she paused. + </p> + <p> + “I think she must be in love.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + “I do think so,” said the girl. “She’s LIKE it, at + least.” + </p> + <p> + “But with whom?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed gaily. “I’m afraid she’s my rival!” + </p> + <p> + “Not with—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, with your beautiful and mad young friend.” + </p> + <p> + “But—oh, it’s preposterous!” I cried, profoundly + disturbed. “She couldn’t be! If you knew a great deal about + her—” + </p> + <p> + “I may know more than you think. My simplicity of appearance is + deceptive,” she mocked, beginning to set her sketch-box in order. + “You don’t realise that Mrs. Harman and I are quite HURLED + upon each other at Quesnay, being two ravishingly intelligent women + entirely surrounded by large bodies of elementals. She has told me a great + deal of herself since that first evening, and I know—well, I know + why she did not come back from Dives this afternoon, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “WHY?” I fairly shouted. + </p> + <p> + She slid her sketch into a groove in the box, which she closed, and rose + to her feet before answering. Then she set her hat a little straighter + with a touch, looking so fixedly and with such grave interest over my + shoulder that I turned to follow her glance and encountered our + reflections in a window of the inn. Her own shed a light upon THAT + mystery, at all events. + </p> + <p> + “I might tell you some day,” she said indifferently, “if + I gained enough confidence in you through association in daily pursuits.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear young lady,” I cried with real exasperation, “I + am a working man, and this is a working summer for me!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I’d spoil it?” she urged gently. + </p> + <p> + “But I get up with the first daylight to paint,” I protested, + “and I paint all day—” + </p> + <p> + She moved a step nearer me and laid her hand warningly upon my sleeve, + checking the outburst. + </p> + <p> + I turned to see what she meant. + </p> + <p> + Oliver Saffren had come in from the road and was crossing to the gallery + steps. He lifted his hat and gave me a quick word of greeting as he + passed, and at the sight of his flushed and happy face my riddle was + solved for me. Amazing as the thing was, I had no doubt of the revelation. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” I said to Miss Elliott when he had gone, “I won’t + have to take pupils to get the answer to my question, now!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + “Ha, these philosophers,” said the professor, expanding in + discourse a little later—“these dreamy people who talk of the + spirit, they tell you that spirit is abstract!” He waved his great + hand in a sweeping semicircle which carried it out of our orange + candle-light and freckled it with the cold moonshine which sieved through + the loosened screen of honeysuckle. “Ha, the folly!” + </p> + <p> + “What do YOU say it is?” I asked, moving so that the smoke of + my cigar should not drift toward Oliver, who sat looking out into the + garden. + </p> + <p> + “I, my friend? I do not say that it IS! But all such things, they + are only a question of names, and when I use the word ‘spirit’ + I mean identity—universal identity, if you like. It is what we all + are, yes—and those flowers, too. But the spirit of the flowers is + not what you smell, nor what you see, that look so pretty: it is the + flowers themself! Yet all spirit is only one spirit and one spirit is all + spirit—and if you tell me this is Pant’eism I will tell you + that you do not understand!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t tell you that,” said I, “neither do I + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor that big Keredec either!” Whereupon he loosed the rolling + thunder of his laughter. “Nor any brain born of the monkey people! + But this world is full of proof that everything that exist is all one + thing, and it is the instinct of that, when it draws us together, which + makes what we call ‘love.’ Even those wicked devils of egoism + in our inside is only love which grows too long the wrong way, like the + finger nails of the Chinese empress. Young love is a little sprout of + universal unity. When the young people begin to feel it, THEY are not + abstract, ha? And the young man, when he selects, he chooses one being + from all the others to mean—just for him—all that great + universe of which he is a part.” + </p> + <p> + This was wandering whimsically far afield, but as I caught the + good-humoured flicker of the professor’s glance at our companion I + thought I saw a purpose in his deviation. Saffren turned toward him + wonderingly, his unconscious, eager look remarkably emphasised and + brightened. + </p> + <p> + “All such things are most strange—great mysteries,” + continued the professor. “For when a man has made the selection, + THAT being DOES become all the universe, and for him there is nothing else + at all—nothing else anywhere!” + </p> + <p> + Saffren’s cheeks and temples were flushed as they had been when I + saw him returning that afternoon; and his eyes were wide, fixed upon + Keredec in a stare of utter amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true,” he said slowly. “How did you know?” + </p> + <p> + Keredec returned his look with an attentive scrutiny, and made some + exclamation under his breath, which I did not catch, but there was no + mistaking his high good humour. + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” he shouted, rising and clapping the other upon the + shoulder. “You will soon cure my rheumatism if you ask me questions + like that! Ho, ho, ho!” He threw back his head and let the mighty + salvos forth. “Ho, ho, ho! How do I know? The young, always they + believe they are the only ones who were ever young! Ho, ho, ho! Come, we + shall make those lessons very easy to-night. Come, my friend! How could + that big, old Keredec know of such things? He is too old, too foolish! Ho, + ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + As he went up the steps, the courtyard reverberating again to his + laughter, his arm resting on Saffren’s shoulders, but not so heavily + as usual. The door of their salon closed upon them, and for a while + Keredec’s voice could be heard booming cheerfully; it ended in + another burst of laughter. + </p> + <p> + A moment later Saffren opened the door and called to me. + </p> + <p> + “Here,” I answered from my veranda, where I had just lighted + my second cigar. + </p> + <p> + “No more work to-night. All finished,” he cried jubilantly, + springing down the steps. “I’m coming to have a talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + Amedee had removed the candles, the moon had withdrawn in fear of a + turbulent mob of clouds, rioting into our sky from seaward; the air + smelled of imminent rain, and it was so dark that I could see my visitor + only as a vague, tall shape; but a happy excitement vibrated in his rich + voice, and his step on the gravelled path was light and exultant. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t sit down,” he said. “I’ll walk up + and down in front of the veranda—if it doesn’t make you + nervous.” + </p> + <p> + For answer I merely laughed; and he laughed too, in genial response, + continuing gaily: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s all so different with me! Everything is. That BLIND + feeling I told you of—it’s all gone. I must have been very + babyish, the other day; I don’t think I could feel like that again. + It used to seem to me that I lived penned up in a circle of blank stone + walls; I couldn’t see over the top for myself at all, though now and + then Keredec would boost me up and let me get a little glimmer of the + country round about—but never long enough to see what it was really + like. But it’s not so now. Ah!”—he drew a long breath—“I’d + like to run. I think I could run all the way to the top of a pretty + fair-sized mountain to-night, and then”—he laughed—“jump + off and ride on the clouds.” + </p> + <p> + “I know how that is,” I responded. “At least I did know—a + few years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything is a jumble with me,” he went on happily, in a + confidential tone, “yet it’s a heavenly kind of jumble. I can’t + put anything into words. I don’t THINK very well yet, though Keredec + is trying to teach me. My thoughts don’t run in order, and this that’s + happened seems to make them wilder, queerer—” He stopped + short. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + He paused in his sentry-go, facing me, and answered, in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “I’ve seen her again.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “She told me you knew it,” he said, “—that she had + told you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But that’s not all,” he said, his voice rising a + little. “I saw her again the day after she told you—” + </p> + <p> + “You did!” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I tell myself that it’s a dream,” he cried, “that + it CAN’T be true. For it has been EVERY day since then! That’s + why I haven’t joined you in the woods. I have been with her, walking + with her, listening to her, looking at her—always feeling that it + must be unreal and that I must try not to wake up. She has been so kind—so + wonderfully, beautifully kind to me!” + </p> + <p> + “She has met you?” I asked, thinking ruefully of George Ward, + now on the high seas in the pleasant company of old hopes renewed. + </p> + <p> + “She has let me meet her. And to-day we lunched at the inn at Dives + and then walked by the sea all afternoon. She gave me the whole day—the + whole day! You see”—he began to pace again—“you + see I was right, and you were wrong. She wasn’t offended—she + was glad—that I couldn’t help speaking to her; she has said + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” I interrupted, “that she would wish you + to tell me this?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, she likes you!” he said so heartily, and appearing + meanwhile so satisfied with the completeness of his reply, that I was fain + to take some satisfaction in it myself. “What I wanted most to say + to you,” he went on, “is this: you remember you promised to + tell me whatever you could learn about her—and about her husband?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s different now. I don’t want you to,” he + said. “I want only to know what she tells me herself. She has told + me very little, but I know when the time comes she WILL tell me + everything. But I wouldn’t hasten it. I wouldn’t have anything + changed from just THIS!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean the way it IS. If I could hope to see her every day, to be + in the woods with her, or down by the shore—oh, I don’t want + to know anything but that!” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt you have told her,” I ventured, “a good deal + about yourself,” and was instantly ashamed of myself. I suppose I + spoke out of a sense of protest against Mrs. Harman’s strange lack + of conventionality, against so charming a lady’s losing her head as + completely as she seemed to have lost hers, and it may have been, too, out + of a feeling of jealousy for poor George—possibly even out of a + little feeling of the same sort on my own account. But I couldn’t + have said it except for the darkness, and, as I say, I was instantly + ashamed. + </p> + <p> + It does not whiten my guilt that the shaft did not reach him. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told her all I know,” he said readily, and the + unconscious pathos of the answer smote me. “And all that Keredec has + let me know. You see I haven’t—” + </p> + <p> + “But do you think,” I interrupted quickly, anxious, in my + remorse, to divert him from that channel, “do you think Professor + Keredec would approve, if he knew?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he would,” he responded slowly, pausing in his walk + again. “I have a feeling that perhaps he does know, and yet I have + been afraid to tell him, afraid he might try to stop me—keep me from + going to wait for her. But he has a strange way of knowing things; I think + he knows everything in the world! I have felt to-night that he knows this, + and—it’s very strange, but I—well, what WAS it that made + him so glad?” + </p> + <p> + “The light is still burning in his room,” I said quietly. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that I ought to tell him?” His voice rose a little. + </p> + <p> + “He’s done a good deal for you, hasn’t he?” I + suggested. “And even if he does know he might like to hear it from + you.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re right; I’ll tell him to-night.” This came + with sudden decision, but with less than marked what followed. “But + he can’t stop me, now. No one on earth shall do that, except Madame + d’Armand herself. No one!” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t quarrel with that,” I said drily, throwing away + my cigar, which had gone out long before. + </p> + <p> + He hesitated, and then I saw his hand groping toward me in the darkness, + and, rising, I gave him mine. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” he said, and shook my hand as the first + sputterings of the coming rain began to patter on the roof of the + pavilion. “I’m glad to tell him; I’m glad to have told + you. Ah, but isn’t this,” he cried, “a happy world!” + </p> + <p> + Turning, he ran to the gallery steps. “At last I’m glad,” + he called back over his shoulder, “I’m glad that I was born—” + </p> + <p> + A gust of wind blew furiously into the courtyard at that instant, and I + heard his voice indistinctly, but I thought—though I might have been + mistaken—that I caught a final word, and that it was “again.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + The rain of two nights and two days had freshened the woods, deepening the + green of the tree-trunks and washing the dust from the leaves, and now, + under the splendid sun of the third morning, we sat painting in a sylvan + aisle that was like a hall of Aladdin’s palace, the filigreed arches + of foliage above us glittering with pendulous rain-drops. But Arabian + Nights’ palaces are not to my fancy for painting; the air, rinsed of + its colour, was too sparklingly clean; the interstices of sky and the + roughly framed distances I prized, were brought too close. It was one of + those days when Nature throws herself straight in your face and you are at + a loss to know whether she has kissed you or slapped you, though you are + conscious of the tingle;—a day, in brief, more for laughing than for + painting, and the truth is that I suited its mood only too well, and + laughed more than I painted, though I sat with my easel before me and a + picture ready upon my palette to be painted. + </p> + <p> + No one could have understood better than I that this was setting a bad + example to the acolyte who sat, likewise facing an easel, ten paces to my + left; a very sportsmanlike figure of a painter indeed, in her short skirt + and long coat of woodland brown, the fine brown of dead oak-leaves; a + “devastating” selection of colour that!—being much the + same shade as her hair—with brown for her hat too, and the veil + encircling the small crown thereof, and brown again for the stout, high, + laced boots which protected her from the wet tangle underfoot. Who could + have expected so dashing a young person as this to do any real work at + painting? Yet she did, narrowing her eyes to the finest point of + concentration, and applying herself to the task in hand with a persistence + which I found, on that particular morning, far beyond my own powers. + </p> + <p> + As she leaned back critically, at the imminent risk of capsizing her + camp-stool, and herself with it, in her absorption, some ill-suppressed + token of amusement most have caught her ear, for she turned upon me with + suspicion, and was instantly moved to moralize upon the reluctance I had + shown to accept her as a companion for my excursions; taking as her theme, + in contrast, her own present display of ambition; all in all a warm, if + over-coloured, sketch of the idle master and the industrious apprentice. + It made me laugh again, upon which she changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “An indefinable something tells me,” she announced coldly, + “that henceforth you needn’t be so DRASTICALLY fearful of + being dragged to the chateau for dinner, nor dejeuner either!” + </p> + <p> + “Did anything ever tell you that I had cause to fear it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, but too simply. “Jean Ferret.” + </p> + <p> + “Anglicise that ruffian’s name,” I muttered, mirth + immediately withering upon me, “and you’ll know him better. To + save time: will you mention anything you can think of that he HASN’T + told you?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Elliott cocked her head upon one side to examine the work of art she + was producing, while a slight smile, playing about her lips, seemed to + indicate that she was appeased. “You and Miss Ward are old and dear + friends, aren’t you?” she asked absently. + </p> + <p> + “We are!” I answered between my teeth. “For years I have + sent her costly jewels—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted me by breaking outright into a peal of laughter, which + rang with such childish delight that I retorted by offering several + malevolent observations upon the babbling of French servants and the order + of mind attributable to those who listened to them. Her defence was to + affect inattention and paint busily until some time after I had concluded. + </p> + <p> + “I think she’s going to take Cressie Ingle,” she said + dreamily, with the air of one whose thoughts have been far, far away. + “It looks preponderously like it. She’s been teetertottering + these AGES and AGES between you—” + </p> + <p> + “Between whom?” + </p> + <p> + “You and Mr. Ingle,” she replied, not altering her tone in the + slightest. “But she’s all for her brother, of course, and + though you’re his friend, Ingle is a personage in the world they + court, and among the MULTITUDINOUS things his father left him is an art + magazine, or one that’s long on art or something of that sort—I + don’t know just what—so altogether it will be a good thing for + DEAREST Mr. Ward. She likes Cressie, of course, though I think she likes + you better—” + </p> + <p> + I managed to find my voice and interrupt the thistle-brained creature. + “What put these fantasias into your head?” + </p> + <p> + “Not Jean Ferret,” she responded promptly. + </p> + <p> + “It’s cruel of me to break it to you so coarsely—I know—but + if you are ever going to make up your mind to her building as glaring a + success of you as she has of her brother, I think you must do it now. She’s + on the point of accepting Mr. Ingle, and what becomes of YOU will depend + on your conduct in the most immediate future. She won’t ask you to + Quesnay again, so you’d better go up there on your own accord.—And + on your bended knees, too!” she added as an afterthought. + </p> + <p> + I sought for something to say which might have a chance of impressing her—a + desperate task on the face of it—and I mentioned that Miss Ward was + her hostess. + </p> + <p> + One might as well have tried to impress Amedee. She “made a little + mouth” and went on dabbling with her brushes. “Hostess? Pooh!” + she said cheerfully. “My INFANTILE father sent me here to be in her + charge while he ran home to America. Mr. Ward’s to paint my + portrait, when he comes. Give and take—it’s simple enough, you + see!” + </p> + <p> + Here was frankness with a vengeance, and I fell back upon silence, + whereupon a pause ensued, to my share of which I imparted the deepest + shadow of disapproval within my power. Unfortunately, she did not look at + me; my effort passed with no other effect than to make some of my facial + muscles ache. + </p> + <p> + “‘Portrait of Miss E., by George Ward, H. C.,’” + this painfully plain-speaking young lady continued presently. “On + the line at next spring’s Salon, then packed up for the dear ones at + home. I’d as soon own an ‘Art Bronze,’ myself—or a + nice, clean porcelain Arab.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt you’ve forgotten for the moment,” I said, + “that Mr. Ward is my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in painting, he isn’t,” she returned quickly, + </p> + <p> + “I consider his work altogether creditable; it’s carefully + done, conscientious, effective—” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t that true of the ladies in the hairdressers’ + windows?” she asked with assumed artlessness. “Can’t you + say a kind word for them, good gentleman, and heaven bless you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why sha’n’t I be asked to Quesnay again?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “You haven’t seemed FANATICALLY appreciative of + your opportunities when you have been there; you might have carried her + off from Cresson Ingle instead of vice versa. But after all, you AREN’T”—here + she paused and looked at me appraisingly for a moment-“you AREN’T + the most piratical dash-in-and-dash-out and + leave-everything-upside-down-behind-you sort of man, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I believe I’m not.” + </p> + <p> + “However, that’s only a SMALL half of the reason,” Miss + Elliott went on. “She’s furious on account of this.” + </p> + <p> + These were vague words, and I said so. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, THIS,” she explained, “my being here; your letting + me come. Impropriety—all of that!” A sharp whistle issued from + her lips. “Oh! the EXCORIATING things she’s said of my + pursuing you!” + </p> + <p> + “But doesn’t she know that it’s only part of your siege + of Madame Brossard’s; that it’s a subterfuge in the hope of + catching a glimpse of Oliver Saffren?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” she cried, her eyes dancing; “I told her that, but + she thinks it’s only a subterfuge in the hope of catching more than + a glimpse of you!” + </p> + <p> + I joined laughter with her then. She was the first to stop, and, looking + at me somewhat doubtfully, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Whereas, the truth is that it’s neither. You know very well + that I want to paint.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” I agreed at once. “Your devotion to ‘your + art’ and your hope of spending half an hour at Madame Brossard’s + now and then are separable;—which reminds me: Wouldn’t you + like me to look at your sketch?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not yet.” She jumped up and brought her camp-stool over + to mine. “I feel that I could better bear what you’ll say of + it after I’ve had some lunch. Not a SYLLABLE of food has crossed my + lips since coffee at dawn!” + </p> + <p> + I spread before her what Amedee had prepared; not sandwiches for the + pocket to-day, but a wicker hamper, one end of which we let rest upon her + knees, the other upon mine, and at sight of the foie gras, the delicate, + devilled partridge, the truffled salad, the fine yellow cheese, and the + long bottle of good red Beaune, revealed when the cover was off, I could + almost have forgiven the old rascal for his scandal-mongering. As for my + vis-a-vis, she pronounced it a “maddening sight.” + </p> + <p> + “Fall to, my merry man,” she added, “and eat your fill + of this fair pasty, under the greenwood tree.” Obeying her + instructions with right good-will, and the lady likewise evincing no + hatred of the viands, we made a cheerful meal of it, topping it with + peaches and bunches of grapes. + </p> + <p> + “It is unfair to let you do all the catering,” said Miss + Elliott, after carefully selecting the largest and best peach. + </p> + <p> + “Jean Ferret’s friend does that,” I returned, watching + her rather intently as she dexterously peeled the peach. She did it very + daintily, I had to admit that—though I regretted to observe + indications of the gourmet in one so young. But when it was peeled clean, + she set it on a fresh green leaf, and, to my surprise, gave it to me. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she continued, not observing my remorseful + confusion, “I couldn’t destroy Elizabeth’s peace of mind + and then raid her larder to boot. That poor lady! I make her trouble + enough, but it’s nothing to what she’s going to have when she + finds out some things that she must find out.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “About Mrs. Harman,” was the serious reply. “Elizabeth + hasn’t a clue.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Clue’?” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + “To Louise’s strange affair.” Miss Elliott’s + expression had grown as serious as her tone. “It is strange; the + strangest thing I ever knew.” + </p> + <p> + “But there’s your own case,” I urged. “Why should + you think it strange of her to take an interest in Saffren?” + </p> + <p> + “I adore him, of course,” she said. “He is the most + glorious-looking person I’ve ever seen, but on my WORD—” + She paused, and as her gaze met mine I saw real earnestness in her eyes. + “I’m afraid—I was half joking the other day—but + now I’m really afraid Louise is beginning to be in love with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mightn’t it be only interest, so far?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “No, it’s much more. And I’ve grown so fond of her!” + the girl went on, her voice unexpectedly verging upon tremulousness. + “She’s quite wonderful in her way—such an understanding + sort of woman, and generous and kind; there are so many things turning up + in a party like ours at Quesnay that show what people are really made of, + and she’s a rare, fine spirit. It seems a pity, with such a + miserable first experience as she had, that this should happen. Oh I know,” + she continued rapidly, cutting off a half-formed protest of mine. “He + isn’t mad—and I’m sorry I tried to be amusing about it + the night you dined at the chateau. I know perfectly well he’s not + insane; but I’m absolutely sure, from one thing and another, that—well—he + isn’t ALL THERE! He’s as beautiful as a seraph and probably as + good as one, but something is MISSING about him—and it begins to + look like a second tragedy for her.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean, she really—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do,” she returned, with a catch in her throat. “She + conies to my room when the others are asleep. Not that she tells me a + great deal, but it’s in the air, somehow; she told me with such a + strained sort of gaiety of their meeting and his first joining her; and + there was something underneath as if she thought <i>I</i> might be really + serious in my ravings about him, and—yes, as if she meant to warn me + off. And the other night, when I saw her after their lunching together at + Dives, I asked her teasingly if she’d had a happy day, and she + laughed the prettiest laugh I ever heard and put her arms around me—then + suddenly broke out crying and ran out of the room.” + </p> + <p> + “But that may have been no more than over-strained nerves,” I + feebly suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was!” she cried, regarding me with justifiable + astonishment. “It’s the CAUSE of their being overstrained that + interests me! It’s all so strange and distressing,” she + continued more gently, “that I wish I weren’t there to see it. + And there’s poor George Ward coming—ah! and when Elizabeth + learns of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Harman had her way once, in spite of everything,” I said + thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she was a headstrong girl of nineteen, then. But let’s + not think it could go as far as that! There!” She threw a + peach-stone over her shoulder and sprang up gaily. “Let’s not + talk of it; I THINK of it enough! It’s time for you to give me a + RACKING criticism on my morning’s work.” + </p> + <p> + Taking off her coat as she spoke, she unbuttoned the cuffs of her manly + blouse and rolled up her sleeves as far as they would go, preparations + which I observed with some perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “If you intend any violence,” said I, “in case my views + of your work shouldn’t meet your own, I think I’ll be leaving.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” she responded, and kneeling upon one knee beside a + bush near by, thrust her arms elbow-deep under the outer mantle of leaves, + shaking the stems vigorously, and sending down a shower of sparkling + drops. Never lived sane man, or madman, since time began, who, seeing her + then, could or would have denied that she made the very prettiest picture + ever seen by any person or persons whatsoever—but her purpose was + difficult to fathom. Pursuing it, I remarked that it was improbable that + birds would be nesting so low. + </p> + <p> + “It’s for a finger bowl,” she said briskly. And rising, + this most practical of her sex dried her hands upon a fresh serviette from + the hamper. “Last night’s rain is worth two birds in the bush.” + </p> + <p> + With that, she readjusted her sleeves, lightly donned her coat, and + preceded me to her easel. “Now,” she commanded, “slaughter! + It’s what I let you come with me for.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at her sketch with much more attention than I had given the small + board she had used as a bait in the courtyard of Les Trois Pigeons. Today + she showed a larger ambition, and a larger canvas as well—or, + perhaps I should say a larger burlap, for she had chosen to paint upon + something strongly resembling a square of coffee-sacking. But there was no + doubt she had “found colour” in a swash-buckling, bullying + style of forcing it to be there, whether it was or not, and to “vibrate,” + whether it did or not. There was not much to be said, for the violent kind + of thing she had done always hushes me; and even when it is well done I am + never sure whether its right place is the “Salon des Independants” + or the Luxembourg. It SEEMS dreadful, and yet sometimes I fear in secret + that it may be a real transition, or even an awakening, and that the men I + began with, and I, are standing still. The older men called US lunatics + once, and the critics said we were “daring,” but that was long + ago. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she said. + </p> + <p> + I had to speak, so I paraphrased a mot of Degas (I think it was Degas) and + said: + </p> + <p> + “If Rousseau could come to life and see this sketch of yours, I + imagine he would be very much interested, but if he saw mine he might say, + 'That is my fault!’” + </p> + <p> + “OH!” she cried, her colour rising quickly; she looked + troubled for a second, then her eyes twinkled. “You’re not + going to let my work make a difference between us, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll even try to look at it from your own point of view,” + I answered, stepping back several yards to see it better, though I should + have had to retire about a quarter of the length of a city block to see it + quite from her own point of view. + </p> + <p> + She moved with me, both of us walking backward. I began: + </p> + <p> + “For a day like this, with all the colour in the trees themselves + and so very little in the air—” + </p> + <p> + There came an interruption, a voice of unpleasant and wiry nasality, + speaking from behind us. + </p> + <p> + “WELL, WELL!” it said. “So here we are again!” + </p> + <p> + I faced about and beheld, just emerged from a by-path, a fox-faced young + man whose light, well-poised figure was jauntily clad in gray serge, with + scarlet waistcoat and tie, white shoes upon his feet, and a white hat, + gaily beribboned, upon his head. A recollection of the dusky road and a + group of people about Pere Baudry’s lamplit door flickered across my + mind. + </p> + <p> + “The historical tourist!” I exclaimed. “The highly + pedestrian tripper from Trouville!” + </p> + <p> + “You got me right, m’dear friend,” he replied with + condescension; “I rec’leck meetin’ you perfect.” + </p> + <p> + “And I was interested to learn,” said I, carefully observing + the effect of my words upon him, “that you had been to Les Trois + Pigeons after all. Perhaps I might put it, you had been through Les Trois + Pigeons, for the maitre d’hotel informed me you had investigated + every corner—that wasn’t locked.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” he returned, with rather less embarrassment than a + brazen Vishnu would have exhibited under the same circumstances. “He + showed me what pitchers they was in your studio. I’ll luk ‘em + over again fer ye one of these days. Some of ‘em was right gud.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be visiting near enough for me to avail myself of the + opportunity?” + </p> + <p> + “Right in the Pigeon House, m’friend. I’ve just come + down t’putt in a few days there,” he responded coolly. “They’s + a young feller in this neighbourhood I take a kind o’ fam’ly + interest in.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is that?” I asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + For answer he produced the effect of a laugh by widening and lifting one + side of his mouth, leaving the other, meantime, rigid. + </p> + <p> + “Don’ lemme int’rup’ the conv’sation with + yer lady-friend,” he said winningly. “What they call ‘talkin’ + High Arts,’ wasn’t it? I’d like to hear some.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + Miss Elliott’s expression, when I turned to observe the effect of + the intruder upon her, was found to be one of brilliant delight. With + glowing eyes, her lips parted in a breathless ecstasy, she gazed upon the + newcomer, evidently fearing to lose a syllable that fell from his lips. + Moving closer to me she whispered urgently: + </p> + <p> + “Keep him. Oh, keep him!” + </p> + <p> + To detain him, for a time at least, was my intention, though my motive was + not merely to afford her pleasure. The advent of the young man had + produced a singularly disagreeable impression upon me, quite apart from + any antagonism I might have felt toward him as a type. Strange suspicions + leaped into my mind, formless—in the surprise of the moment—but + rapidly groping toward definite outline; and following hard upon them + crept a tingling apprehension. The reappearance of this rattish youth, + casual as was the air with which he strove to invest it, began to assume, + for me, the character of a theatrical entrance of unpleasant portent—a + suggestion just now enhanced by an absurdly obvious notion of his own that + he was enacting a part. This was written all over him, most legibly in his + attitude of the knowing amateur, as he surveyed Miss Elliott’s + painting patronisingly, his head on one side, his cane in the crook of his + elbows behind his back, and his body teetering genteelly as he shifted his + weight from his toes to his heels and back again, nodding meanwhile a + slight but judicial approbation. + </p> + <p> + “Now, about how much,” he said slowly, “would you expec’ + t’ git f’r a pitcher that size?” + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t mine,” I informed him. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t tell me it’s the little lady’s—what?” + He bowed genially and favoured Miss Elliott with a stare of warm + admiration. “Pretty a thing as I ever see,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she cried with an ardour that choked her slightly. + “THANK you!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I meant the PITCHER!” he said hastily, evidently + nonplussed by a gratitude so fervent. + </p> + <p> + The incorrigible damsel cast down her eyes in modesty. “And I had + hoped,” she breathed, “something so different!” + </p> + <p> + I could not be certain whether or not he caught the whisper; I thought he + did. At all events, the surface of his easy assurance appeared somewhat + disarranged; and, perhaps to restore it by performing the rites of + etiquette, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, I expec’ the smart thing now is to pass the cards, but + mine’s in my grip an’ it ain’t unpacked yet. The name + you’d see on ‘em is Oil Poicy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oil Poicy,” echoed Miss Elliott, turning to me in genuine + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Earl Percy,” I translated. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, RAPTUROUS!” she cried, her face radiant. “And WON’T + Mr. Percy give us his opinion of my Art?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percy was in doubt how to take her enthusiasm; he seemed on the point + of turning surly, and hesitated, while a sharp vertical line appeared on + his small forehead; but he evidently concluded, after a deep glance at + her, that if she was making game of him it was in no ill-natured spirit—nay, + I think that for a few moments he suspected her liveliness to be some + method of her own for the incipient stages of a flirtation. + </p> + <p> + Finally he turned again to the easel, and as he examined the painting + thereon at closer range, amazement overspread his features. However, + pulling himself together, he found himself able to reply—and with + great gallantry: + </p> + <p> + “Well, on’y t’ think them little hands cud ‘a’ + done all that rough woik!” + </p> + <p> + The unintended viciousness of this retort produced an effect so marked, + that, except for my growing uneasiness, I might have enjoyed her + expression. + </p> + <p> + As it was, I saved her face by entering into the conversation with a + question, which I put quickly: + </p> + <p> + “You intend pursuing your historical researches in the neighborhood?” + </p> + <p> + The facial contortion which served him for a laugh, and at the same time + as a symbol of unfathomable reserve, was repeated, accompanied by a jocose + manifestation, in the nature of a sharp and taunting cackle, which seemed + to indicate a conviction that he was getting much the best of it in some + conflict of wits. + </p> + <p> + “Them fairy tales I handed you about ole Jeanne d’Arc and + William the Conker,” he said, “say, they must ‘a’ + made you sore after-WOIDS!” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I was much interested in everything pertaining to + your too brief visit,” I returned; “I am even more so now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, m’friend”—he shot me a sidelong, + distrustful glance—“keep yer eyes open.” + </p> + <p> + “That is just the point!” I laughed, with intentional + significance, for I meant to make Mr. Percy talk as much as I could. To + this end, remembering that specimens of his kind are most indiscreet when + carefully enraged, I added, simulating his own manner: + </p> + <p> + “Eyes open—and doors locked! What?” + </p> + <p> + At this I heard a gasp of astonishment from Miss Elliott, who must have + been puzzled indeed; but I was intent upon the other. He proved perfectly + capable of being insulted. + </p> + <p> + “I guess they ain’t much need o’ lockin’ YOUR + door,” he retorted darkly; “not from what I saw when I was in + your studio!” He should have stopped there, for the hit was palpable + and justified; but in his resentment he overdid it. “You needn’t + be scared of anybody’s cartin’ off THEM pitchers, young + feller! WHOOSH! An’ f’m the luks of the CLO’ES I saw + hangin’ on the wall,” he continued, growing more nettled as I + smiled cheerfully upon him, “I don’ b’lieve you gut any + worries comin’ about THEM, neither!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose our tastes are different,” I said, letting my smile + broaden. “There might be protection in that.” + </p> + <p> + His stare at me was protracted to an unseemly length before the sting of + this remark reached him; it penetrated finally, however, and in his sharp + change of posture there was a lightning flicker of the experienced boxer; + but he checked the impulse, and took up the task of obliterating me in + another way. + </p> + <p> + “As I tell the little dame here,” he said, pitching his voice + higher and affecting the plaintive, “I make no passes at a friend o’ + her—not in front o’ her, anyways. But when it comes to these + here ole, ancient curiosities”—he cackled again, loudly—“well, + I guess them clo’es I see, that day, kin hand it out t’ + anything they got in the museums! 'Look here,’ I says to the waiter, + ‘THESE must be’n left over f’m ole Jeanne d’Arc + herself,’ I says. ‘Talk about yer relics,’ I says. + Whoosh! I’d like t’ died!” He laughed violently, and + concluded by turning upon me with a contemptuous flourish of his stick. + “You think I d’know what makes YOU so raw?” + </p> + <p> + The form of repartee necessary to augment his ill humour was, of course, a + matter of simple mechanism for one who had not entirely forgotten his + student days in the Quarter; and I delivered it airily, though I shivered + inwardly that Miss Elliott should hear. + </p> + <p> + “Everything will be all right if, when you dine at the inn, you’ll + sit with your back toward me.” + </p> + <p> + To my shamed surprise, this roustabout wit drew a nervous, silvery giggle + from her; and that completed the work with Mr. Percy, whose face grew + scarlet with anger. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a hot one, you are!” he sneered, with shocking + bitterness. “You’re quite the teaser, ain’t ye, s’long’s + yer lady-friend is lukkin’ on! I guess they’ll be a few + surprises comin’ YOUR way, before long. P’raps I cudn’t + give ye one now ‘f I had a mind to.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw,” I laughed, and, venturing at hazard, said, “I + know all YOU know!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you do!” he cried scornfully. “I reckon you might + set up an’ take a little notice, though, if you knowed ‘at I + know all YOU know!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it!” + </p> + <p> + “No? Maybe you think I don’t know what makes you so raw with + ME? Maybe you think I don’t know who ye’ve got so thick with + at this here Pigeon House; maybe you think I don’t know who them + people ARE!” + </p> + <p> + “No, you don’t. You have learned,” I said, trying to + control my excitement, “nothing! Whoever hired YOU for a spy lost + the money. YOU don’t know ANY-thing!” + </p> + <p> + “I DON’T!” And with that his voice went to a + half-shriek. “Maybe you think I’m down here f’r my + health; maybe you think I come out f’r a pleasant walk in the woods + right now; maybe you think I ain’t seen no other lady-friend o’ + yours besides this’n to-day, and maybe I didn’t see who was + with her—yes, an’ maybe you think I d’know no other + times he’s be’n with her. Maybe you think I ain’t be’n + layin’ low over at Dives! Maybe I don’t know a few real NAMES + in this neighbourhood! Oh, no, MAYBE not!” + </p> + <p> + “You know what the maitre d’hotel told you; nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + “How about the name—OLIVER SAFFREN?” he cried fiercely, + and at last, though I had expected it, I uttered an involuntary + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “How about it?” he shouted, advancing toward me triumphantly, + shaking his forefinger in my face. “Hey? THAT stings some, does it? + Sounds kind o’ like a FALSE name, does it? Got ye where the hair is + short, that time, didn’t I?” + </p> + <p> + “Speaking of names,” I retorted, “‘Oil Poicy’ + doesn’t seem to ring particularly true to me!” + </p> + <p> + “It’ll be gud enough fer you, young feller,” he + responded angrily. “It may belong t’ me, an’ then again, + it maybe don’t. It ain’ gunna git me in no trouble; I’ll + luk out f’r that. YOUR side’s where the trouble is; that’s + what’s eatin’ into you. An’ I’ll tell you + flat-foot, your gittin’ rough ‘ith me and playin’ + Charley the Show-Off in front o’ yer lady-friends’ll all go + down in the bill. These people ye’ve got so chummy with—THEY’LL + pay f’r it all right, don’t you shed no tears over that!” + </p> + <p> + “You couldn’t by any possibility,” I said deliberately, + with as much satire as I could command, “you couldn’t possibly + mean that any sum of mere money might be a salve for the injuries my + unkind words have inflicted?” + </p> + <p> + Once more he seemed upon the point of destroying me physically, but, with + a slight shudder, controlled himself. Stepping close to me, he thrust his + head forward and measured the emphases of his speech by his right + forefinger upon my shoulder, as he said: + </p> + <p> + “You paint THIS in yer pitchers, m’ dear friend; they’s + jest as much law in this country as they is on the corner o’ + Twenty-thoid Street an’ Fif’ Avenoo! You keep out the way of + it, or you’ll git runned over!” + </p> + <p> + Delivering a final tap on my shoulder as a last warning, he wheeled deftly + upon his heel, addressed Miss Elliott briefly, “Glad t’ know + YOU, lady,” and striking into the by-path by which he had approached + us, was soon lost to sight. + </p> + <p> + The girl faced me excitedly. “What IS it?” she cried. “It + seemed to me you insulted him deliberately—” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “You wanted to make him angry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I thought so!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I knew + there was something serious underneath. It’s about Mr. Saffren?” + </p> + <p> + “It is serious indeed, I fear,” I said, and turning to my own + easel, began to get my traps together. “I’ll tell you the + little I know, because I want you to tell Mrs. Harman what has just + happened, and you’ll be able to do it better if you understand what + is understandable about the rest of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you wouldn’t tell me so that I could understand for + myself?” There was a note of genuine grieved reproach in her voice. + “Ah, then I’ve made you think me altogether a hare-brain!” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t time to tell you what I think of you,” I said + brusquely, and, strangely enough, it seemed to please her. But I paid + little attention to that, continuing quickly: “When Professor + Keredec and Mr. Saffren came to Les Trois Pigeons, they were so careful to + keep out of everybody’s sight that one might have suspected that + they were in hiding—and, in fact, I’m sure that they were—though, + as time passed and nothing alarming happened, they’ve felt reassured + and allowed themselves more liberty. It struck me that Keredec at first + dreaded that they might be traced to the inn, and I’m afraid his + fear was justified, for one night, before I came to know them, I met Mr. + ‘Percy’ on the road; he’d visited Madame Brossard’s + and pumped Amedee dry, but clumsily tried to pretend to me that he had not + been there at all. At the time, I did not connect him even remotely with + Professor Keredec’s anxieties. I imagined he might have an eye to + the spoons; but it’s as ridiculous to think him a burglar as it + would be to take him for a detective. What he is, or what he has to do + with Mr. Saffren, I can guess no more than I can guess the cause of + Keredec’s fears, but the moment I saw him to-day, saw that he’d + come back, I knew it was THAT, and tried to draw him out. You heard what + he said; there’s no doubt that Saffren stands in danger of some + kind. It may be inconsiderable, or even absurd, but it’s evidently + imminent, and no matter what it is, Mrs. Harman must be kept out of it. I + want you to see her as soon as you can and ask her from me—no, + persuade her yourself—not to leave Quesnay for a day or two. I mean, + that she absolutely MUST NOT meet Mr. Saffren again until we know what all + this means. Will you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “That I will!” And she began hastily to get her belongings in + marching order. “I’ll do anything in the world you’ll + let me—and oh, I hope they can’t do anything to poor, poor Mr. + Saffren!” + </p> + <p> + “Our sporting friend had evidently seen him with Mrs. Harman to-day,” + I said. “Do you know if they went to the beach again?” + </p> + <p> + “I only know she meant to meet him—but she told me she’d + be back at the chateau by four. If I start now—” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t the phaeton to be sent to the inn for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not until six,” she returned briskly, folding her easel and + strapping it to her camp-stool with precision. “Isn’t it + shorter by the woods?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve only to follow this path to the second crossing and + then turn to the right,” I responded. “I shall hurry back to + Madame Brossard’s to see Keredec—and here”—I + extended my hand toward her traps, of which, in a neatly practical + fashion, she had made one close pack—“let me have your things, + and I’ll take care of them at the inn for you. They’re heavy, + and it’s a long trudge.” + </p> + <p> + “You have your own to carry,” she answered, swinging the strap + over her shoulder. “It’s something of a walk for you, too.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, let me have them,” I protested, for the walk before + her WAS long and the things would be heavy indeed before it ended. + </p> + <p> + “Go your ways,” she laughed, and as my hand still remained + extended she grasped it with her own and gave it a warm and friendly + shake. “Hurry!” And with an optimism which took my breath, she + said, “I know YOU can make it come out all right! Besides, I’ll + help you!” + </p> + <p> + With that she turned and started manfully upon her journey. I stared after + her for a moment or more, watching the pretty brown dress flashing in and + out of shadow among the ragged greeneries, shafts of sunshine now and then + flashing upon her hair. Then I picked up my own pack and set out for the + inn. + </p> + <p> + Every one knows that the more serious and urgent the errand a man may be + upon, the more incongruous are apt to be the thoughts that skip into his + mind. As I went through the woods that day, breathless with haste and + curious fears, my brain became suddenly, unaccountably busy with a dream I + had had, two nights before. I had not recalled this dream on waking: the + recollection of it came to me now for the first time. It was a usual + enough dream, wandering and unlifelike, not worth the telling; and I had + been thinking so constantly of Mrs. Harman that there was nothing + extraordinary in her worthless ex-husband’s being part of it. + </p> + <p> + And yet, looking back upon that last, hurried walk of mine through the + forest, I see how strange it was that I could not quit remembering how in + my dream I had gone motoring up Mount Pilatus with the man I had seen so + pitiably demolished on the Versailles road, two years before—Larrabee + Harman. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + Keredec was alone in his salon, extended at ease upon a long chair, an + ottoman and a stool, when I burst in upon him; a portentous volume was in + his lap, and a prolific pipe, smoking up from his great cloud of beard, + gave the final reality to the likeness he thus presented of a range of + hills ending in a volcano. But he rolled the book cavalierly to the floor, + limbered up by sections to receive me, and offered me a hearty welcome. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my dear sir,” he cried, “you take pity on the + lonely Keredec; you make him a visit. I could not wish better for myself. + We shall have a good smoke and a good talk.” + </p> + <p> + “You are improved to-day?” I asked, it may be a little slyly. + </p> + <p> + “Improve?” he repeated inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “Your rheumatism, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, yes; that rheumatism!” he shouted, and throwing back his + head, rocked the room with sudden laughter. “Hew! But it is gone—almost! + Oh, I am much better, and soon I shall be able to go in the woods again + with my boy.” He pushed a chair toward me. “Come, light your + cigar; he will not return for an hour perhaps, and there is plenty of time + for the smoke to blow away. So! It is better. Now we shall talk.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said, “I wanted to talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a—what you call?—ha, yes, a coincidence,” + he returned, stretching himself again in the long chair, “a happy + coincidence; for I have wished a talk with you; but you are away so early + for all day, and in the evening Oliver, he is always here.” + </p> + <p> + “I think what I wanted to talk about concerns him particularly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” The professor leaned forward, looking at me gravely. + “That is another coincidence. But you shall speak first. Commence + then.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel that you know me at least well enough,” I began rather + hesitatingly, “to be sure that I would not, for the world, make any + effort to intrude in your affairs, or Mr. Saffren’s, and that I + would not force your confidence in the remotest—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no!” he interrupted. “Please do not fear I + shall misinterpretate whatever you will say. You are our friend. We know + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I pursued; “then I speak with no fear of + offending. When you first came to the inn I couldn’t help seeing + that you took a great many precautions for secrecy; and when you afterward + explained these precautions to me on the ground that you feared somebody + might think Mr. Saffren not quite sane, and that such an impression might + injure him later—well, I could not help seeing that your explanation + did not cover all the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true—it did not.” He ran his huge hand through + the heavy white waves of his hair, and shook his head vigorously. “No; + I knew it, my dear sir, I knew it well. But, what could I do? I would not + have telled my own mother! This much I can say to you: we came here at a + risk, but I thought that with great care it might be made little. And I + thought a great good thing might be accomplish if we should come here, + something so fine, so wonderful, that even if the danger had been great I + would have risked it. I will tell you a little more: I think that great + thing is BEING accomplish!” Here he rose to his feet excitedly and + began to pace the room as he talked, the ancient floor shaking with his + tread. “I think it is DONE! And ha! my dear sir, if it SHOULD be, + this big Keredec will not have lived in vain! It was a great task I + undertake with my young man, and the glory to see it finish is almost + here. Even if the danger should come, the THING is done, for all that is + real and has true meaning is inside the soul!” + </p> + <p> + “It was in connection with the risk you have mentioned that I came + to talk,” I returned with some emphasis, for I was convinced of the + reality of Mr. Earl Percy and also very certain that he had no existence + inside or outside a soul. “I think it necessary that you should know—” + </p> + <p> + But the professor was launched. I might as well have swept the rising tide + with a broom. He talked with magnificent vehemence for twenty minutes, his + theme being some theory of his own that the individuality of a soul is + immortal, and that even in perfection, the soul cannot possibly merge into + any Nirvana. Meantime, I wondered how Mr. Percy was employing his time, + but after one or two ineffectual attempts to interrupt, I gave myself to + silence until the oration should be concluded. + </p> + <p> + “And so it is with my boy,” he proclaimed, coming at last to + the case in hand. “The spirit of him, the real Oliver Saffren, THAT + has NEVER change! The outside of him, those thing that BELONG to him, like + his memory, THEY have change, but not himself, for himself is eternal and + unchangeable. I have taught him, yes; I have helped him get the small + things we can add to our possession—a little knowledge, maybe, a + little power of judgment. But, my dear sir, I tell you that such things + are ONLY possessions of a man. They are not the MAN! All that a man IS or + ever shall be, he is when he is a baby. So with Oliver; he had lived a + little while, twenty-six years, perhaps, when pft—like that!—he + became almost as a baby again. He could remember how to talk, but not much + more. He had lost his belongings—they were gone from the lobe of the + brain where he had stored them; but HE was not gone, no part of the real + HIMSELF was lacking. Then presently they send him to me to make new his + belongings, to restore his possessions. Ha, what a task! To take him with + nothing in the world of his own and see that he get only GOOD possessions, + GOOD knowledge, GOOD experience! I took him to the mountains of the Tyrol—two + years—and there his body became strong and splendid while his brain + was taking in the stores. It was quick, for his brain had retained some + habits; it was not a baby’s brain, and some small part of its old + stores had not been lost. But if anything useless or bad remain, we empty + it out—I and those mountain’ with their pure air. Now, I say + he is all good and the work was good; I am proud! But I wish to restore + ALL that was good in his life; your Keredec is something of a poet.—You + may put it: much the old fool! And for that greates’ restoration of + all I have brought my boy back to France; since it was necessary. It was a + madness, and I thank the good God I was mad enough to do it. I cannot tell + you yet, my dear sir: but you shall see, you shall see what the folly of + that old Keredec has done! You shall see, you shall—and I promise it—what + a Paradise, when the good God helps, an old fool’s dream can make!” + </p> + <p> + A half-light had broken upon me as he talked, pacing the floor, thundering + his paean of triumph, his Titanic gestures bruising the harmless air. Only + one explanation, incredible, but possible, sufficed. Anything was + possible, I thought—anything was probable—with this dreamer + whom the trump of Fame, executing a whimsical fantasia, proclaimed a man + of science! + </p> + <p> + “By the wildest chance,” I gasped, “you don’t mean + that you wanted him to fall in love—” + </p> + <p> + He had reached the other end of the room, but at this he whirled about on + me, his laughter rolling out again, till it might have been heard at Pere + Baudry’s. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my dear sir, you have said it! But you knew it; you told him to + come to me and tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I mean that you—unless I utterly misunderstand—you + seem to imply that you had selected some one now in France whom you + planned that he should care for—that you had selected the lady whom + you know as Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + “Again,” he shouted, “you have said it!” + </p> + <p> + “Professor Keredec,” I returned, with asperity, “I have + no idea how you came to conceive such a preposterous scheme, but I agree + heartily that the word for it is madness. In the first place, I must tell + you that her name is not even d’Armand—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, I know. It was the mistake of that absurd Amedee. She + is Mrs. Harman.” + </p> + <p> + “You knew it?” I cried, hopelessly confused. “But Oliver + still speaks of her as Madame d’Armand.” + </p> + <p> + “He does not know. She has not told him.” + </p> + <p> + “But why haven’t you told him?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, that is a story, a poem,” he cried, beginning to pace the + floor again—“a ballad as old as the oldest of Provence! There + is a reason, my dear sir, which I cannot tell you, but it lies within the + romance of what you agree is my madness. Some day, I hope, you shall + understand and applaud! In the meantime—” + </p> + <p> + “In the meantime,” I said sharply, as he paused for breath, + “there is a keen-faced young man who took a room in the inn this + morning and who has come to spy upon you, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it you say?” + </p> + <p> + He came to a sudden stop. + </p> + <p> + I had not meant to deliver my information quite so abruptly, but there was + no help for it now, and I repeated the statement, giving him a terse + account of my two encounters with the rattish youth, and adding: + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to be certain that ‘Oliver Saffren’ is an + assumed name, and he made a threatening reference to the laws of France.” + </p> + <p> + The effect upon Keredec was a very distinct pallor. He faced me silently + until I had finished, then in a voice grown suddenly husky, asked: + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he came back to the inn? Is he here now?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know.” + </p> + <p> + “We must learn; I must know that, at once.” And he went to the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go instead,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “It can’t make little difference if he see me,” said the + professor, swallowing with difficulty and displaying, as he turned to me, + a look of such profound anxiety that I was as sorry for him now as I had + been irritated a few minutes earlier by his galliard air-castles. “I + do not know this man, nor does he know me, but I have fear”—his + beard moved as though his chin were trembling—“I have fear + that I know his employers. Still, it may be better if you go. Bring + somebody here that we can ask.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I find Amedee?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no! That babbler? Find Madame Brossard.” + </p> + <p> + I stepped out to the gallery, to discover Madame Brossard emerging from a + door on the opposite side of the courtyard; Amedee, Glouglou, and a couple + of carters deploying before her with some light trunks and bags, which + they were carrying into the passage she had just quitted. I summoned her + quietly; she came briskly up the steps and into the room, and I closed the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Brossard,” said the professor, “you have a new + client to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “That monsieur who arrived this morning,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “He was an American,” said the hostess, knitting her dark + brows—“but I do not think that he was exactly a monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo!” I murmured. “That sketches a likeness. It is + this ‘Percy’ without a doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “That is it,” she returned. “Monsieur Poissy is the name + he gave.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he at the inn now?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur, but two friends for whom he engaged apartments have + just arrived.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are they?” asked Keredec quickly. + </p> + <p> + “It is a lady and a monsieur from Paris. But not married: they have + taken separate apartments and she has a domestic with her, a negress, + Algerian.” + </p> + <p> + “What are their names?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not ten minutes that they are installed. They have not given + me their names.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the lady’s appearance?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur the Professor,” replied the hostess demurely, + “she is not beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is she?” demanded Keredec impatiently; and it could + be seen that he was striving to control a rising agitation. “Is she + blonde? Is she brunette? Is she young? Is she old? Is she French, English, + Spanish—” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Madame Brossard, “I think one would call + her Spanish, but she is very fat, not young, and with a great deal too + much rouge—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped with an audible intake of breath, staring at my friend’s + white face. “Eh! it is bad news?” she cried. “And when + one has been so ill—” + </p> + <p> + Keredec checked her with an imperious gesture. “Monsieur Saffren and + I leave at once,” he said. “I shall meet him on the road; he + will not return to the inn. We go to—to Trouville. See that no one + knows that we have gone until to-morrow, if possible; I shall leave fees + for the servants with you. Go now, prepare your bill, and bring it to me + at once. I shall write you where to send our trunks. Quick! And you, my + friend”—he turned to me as Madame Brossard, obviously + distressed and frightened, but none the less intelligent for that, + skurried away to do his bidding—“my friend, will you help us? + For we need it!” + </p> + <p> + “Anything in the world!” + </p> + <p> + “Go to Pere Baudry’s; have him put the least tired of his + three horses to his lightest cart and wait in the road beyond the cottage. + Stand in the road yourself while that is being done. Oliver will come that + way; detain him. I will join you there; I have only to see to my papers—at + the most, twenty minutes. Go quickly, my friend!” + </p> + <p> + I strode to the door and out to the gallery. I was half-way down the steps + before I saw that Oliver Saffren was already in the courtyard, coming + toward me from the archway with a light and buoyant step. + </p> + <p> + He looked up, waving his hat to me, his face lighted with a happiness most + remarkable, and brighter, even, than the strong, midsummer sunshine + flaming over him. Dressed in white as he was, and with the air of victory + he wore, he might have been, at that moment, a figure from some marble + triumph; youthful, conquering—crowned with the laurel. + </p> + <p> + I had time only to glance at him, to “take” him, as it were, + between two shutter-flicks of the instantaneous eyelid, and with him, the + courtyard flooded with sunshine, the figure of Madame Brossard emerging + from her little office, Amedee coming from the kitchen bearing a + white-covered tray, and, entering from the road, upon the trail of Saffren + but still in the shadow of the archway, the discordant fineries and + hatchet-face of the ex-pedestrian and tourist, my antagonist of the + forest. + </p> + <p> + I had opened my mouth to call a warning. + </p> + <p> + “Hurry” was the word I would have said, but it stopped at + “hur—.” The second syllable was never uttered. + </p> + <p> + There came a violent outcry, raucous and shrill as the wail of a captured + hen, and out of the passage across the courtyard floundered a woman, + fantastically dressed in green and gold. + </p> + <p> + Her coarse blue-black hair fell dishevelled upon her shoulders, from which + her gown hung precariously unfastened, as if she had abandoned her toilet + half-way. She was abundantly fat, double-chinned, coarse, greasy, smeared + with blue pencillings, carmine, enamel, and rouge. + </p> + <p> + At the scream Saffren turned. She made straight at him, crying wildly: + </p> + <p> + “Enfin! Mon mari, mon mari—c’est moi! C’est ta + femme, mon coeur!” + </p> + <p> + She threw herself upon him, her arms about his neck, with a tropical + ferocity that was a very paroxysm of triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Embrasse moi, Larrabi! Embrasse moi!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + Horrified, outraged, his eyes blazing, he flung her off with a violence + surpassing her own, and with loathing unspeakable. She screamed that he + was killing her, calling him “husband,” and tried to fasten + herself upon him again. But he leaped backward beyond the reach of her + clutching hands, and, turning, plunged to the steps and staggered up them, + the woman following. + </p> + <p> + From above me leaned the stricken face of Keredec; he caught Saffren under + the arm and half lifted him to the gallery, while she strove to hold him + by the knees. + </p> + <p> + “O Christ!” gasped Saffren. “Is THIS the woman?” + </p> + <p> + The giant swung him across the gallery and into the open door with one + great sweep of the arm, strode in after him, and closed and bolted the + door. The woman fell in a heap at the foot of the steps, uttered a cracked + simulation of the cry of a broken heart. + </p> + <p> + “Name of a name of God!” she wailed. “After all these + years! And my husband strikes me!” + </p> + <p> + Then it was that what had been in my mind as a monstrous suspicion became + a certainty. For I recognised the woman; she was Mariana—la bella + Mariana la Mursiana. + </p> + <p> + If I had ever known Larrabee Harman, if, instead of the two strange + glimpses I had caught of him, I had been familiar with his gesture, walk, + intonation—even, perhaps, if I had ever heard his voice—the + truth might have come to me long ago. + </p> + <p> + Larrabee Harman! + </p> + <p> + “Oliver Saffren” was Larrabee Harman. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + I do not like to read those poets who write of pain as if they loved it; + the study of suffering is for the cold analyst, for the vivisectionist, + for those who may transfuse their knowledge of it to the ultimate good of + mankind. And although I am so heavily endowed with curiosity concerning + the people I find about me, my gift (or curse, whichever it be) knows + pause at the gates of the house of calamity. So, if it were possible, I + would not speak of the agony of which I was a witness that night in the + apartment of my friends at Madame Brossard’s. I went with + reluctance, but there was no choice. Keredec had sent for me. + </p> + <p> + ... When I was about fifteen, a boy cousin of mine, several years younger, + terribly injured himself on the Fourth of July; and I sat all night in the + room with him, helping his mother. Somehow he had learned that there was + no hope of saving his sight; he was an imaginative child and realised the + whole meaning of the catastrophe; the eternal darkness.... And he + understood that the thing had been done, that there was no going back of + it. This very certainty increased the intensity of his rebellion a + thousandfold. “I WILL have my eyes!” he screamed. “I + WILL! I WILL!” + </p> + <p> + Keredec had told his tragic ward too little. The latter had understood but + vaguely the nature of the catastrophe which overhung his return to France, + and now that it was indeed concrete and definite, the guardian was forced + into fuller disclosures, every word making the anguish of the listener + more intolerable. It was the horizonless despair of a child; and that + profound protest I had so often seen smouldering in his eyes culminated, + at its crisis, in a wild flame of revolt. The shame of the revelation + passed over him; there was nothing of the disastrous drunkard, sober, + learning what he had done. To him, it seemed that he was being forced to + suffer for the sins of another man. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that you can make me believe <i>I</i> did this?” + he cried. “That I made life unbearable for HER, drove HER from me, + and took this hideous, painted old woman in HER place? It’s a lie. + You can’t make me believe such a monstrous lie as that! You CAN’T! + You CAN’T!” + </p> + <p> + He threw himself violently upon the couch, face downward, shuddering from + head to foot. + </p> + <p> + “My poor boy, it is the truth,” said Keredec, kneeling beside + him and putting a great arm across his shoulders. “It is what a + thousand men are doing this night. Nothing is more common, or more + unexplainable—or more simple. Of all the nations it is the same, + wherever life has become artificial and the poor, foolish young men have + too much money and nothing to do. You do not understand it, but our friend + here, and I, we understand because we remember what we have been seeing + all our life. You say it is not you who did such crazy, horrible things, + and you are right. When this poor woman who is so painted and greasy first + caught you, when you began to give your money and your time and your life + to her, when she got you into this horrible marriage with her, you were + blind—you went staggering, in a bad dream; your soul hid away, far + down inside you, with its hands over its face. If it could have once stood + straight, if the eyes of your body could have once been clean for it to + look through, if you could have once been as you are to-day, or as you + were when you were a little child, you would have cry out with horror both + of her and of yourself, as you do now; and you would have run away from + her and from everything you had put in your life. But, in your suffering + you must rejoice: the triumph is that your mind hates that old life as + greatly as your soul hates it. You are as good as if you had never been + the wild fellow—yes, the wicked fellow—that you were. For a + man who shakes off his sin is clean; he stands as pure as if he had never + sinned. But though his emancipation can be so perfect, there is a law that + he cannot escape from the result of all the bad and foolish things he has + done, for every act, every breath you draw, is immortal, and each has a + consequence that is never ending. And so, now, though you are purified, + the suffering from these old actions is here, and you must abide it. Ah, + but that is a little thing, nothing!—that suffering—compared + to what you have gained, for you have gained your own soul!” + </p> + <p> + The desperate young man on the couch answered only with the sobbing of a + broken-hearted child. + </p> + <p> + I came back to my pavilion after midnight, but I did not sleep, though I + lay upon my bed until dawn. Then I went for a long, hard walk, breakfasted + at Dives, and begged a ride back to Madame Brossard’s in a peasant’s + cart which was going that way. + </p> + <p> + I found George Ward waiting for me on the little veranda of the pavilion, + looking handsomer and more prosperously distinguished and distinguishedly + prosperous and generally well-conditioned than ever—as I told him. + </p> + <p> + “I have some news for you,” he said after the hearty greeting—“an + announcement, in fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” I glanced at the interested attitude of Mr. Earl + Percy, who was breakfasting at a table significantly near the gallery + steps, and led the way into the pavilion. “You may as well not tell + it in the hearing of that young man,” I said, when the door was + closed. “He is eccentric.” + </p> + <p> + “So I gathered,” returned Ward, smiling, “from his + attire. But it really wouldn’t matter who heard it. Elizabeth’s + going to marry Cresson Ingle.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the news—the announcement—you spoke of?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is it.” + </p> + <p> + To save my life I could not have told at that moment what else I had + expected, or feared, that he might say, but certainly I took a deep breath + of relief. “I am very glad,” I said. “It should be a + happy alliance.” + </p> + <p> + “On the whole, I think it will be,” he returned thoughtfully. + “Ingle’s done his share of hard living, and I once had a + notion”—he glanced smiling at me—“well, I dare say + you know my notion. But it is a good match for Elizabeth and not without + advantages on many counts. You see, it’s time I married, myself; she + feels that very strongly and I think her decision to accept Ingle is + partly due to her wish to make all clear for a new mistress of my + household,—though that’s putting it in a rather grandiloquent + way.” He laughed. “And as you probably guess, I have an idea + that some such arrangement might be somewhere on the wings of the wind on + its way to me, before long.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again, but I did not, and noting my silence he turned upon me a + more scrutinising look than he had yet given me, and said: + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, is something the matter? You look quite haggard. + You haven’t been ill?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’ve had a bad night. That’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I heard something of a riotous scene taking place over here,” + he said. “One of the gardeners was talking about it to Elizabeth. + Your bad night wouldn’t be connected with that, would it? You haven’t + been playing Samaritan?” + </p> + <p> + “What was it you heard?” I asked quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t pay much attention. He said that there was great + excitement at Madame Brossard’s, because a strange woman had turned + up and claimed an insane young man at the inn for her husband, and that + they had a fight of some sort—” + </p> + <p> + “Damnation!” I started from my chair. “Did Mrs. Harman + hear this story?” + </p> + <p> + “Not last night, I’m certain. Elizabeth said the gardener told + her as she came down to the chateau gates to meet me when I arrived—it + was late, and Louise had already gone to her room. In fact, I have not + seen her yet. But what difference could it possibly make whether she heard + it or not? She doesn’t know these people, surely?” + </p> + <p> + “She knows the man.” + </p> + <p> + “This insane—” + </p> + <p> + “He is not insane,” I interrupted. “He has lost the + memory of his earlier life—lost it through an accident. You and I + saw the accident.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s impossible,” said George, frowning. “I + never saw but one accident that you—” + </p> + <p> + “That was the one: the man is Larrabee Harman.” + </p> + <p> + George had struck a match to light a cigar; but the operation remained + incomplete: he dropped the match upon the floor and set his foot upon it. + “Well, tell me about it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t heard anything about him since the accident?” + </p> + <p> + “Only that he did eventually recover and was taken away from the + hospital. I heard that his mind was impaired. Does Louise—” he + began; stopped, and cleared his throat. “Has Mrs. Harman heard that + he is here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; she has seen him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean the scoundrel has been bothering her? Elizabeth didn’t + tell me of this—” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister doesn’t know,” I said, lifting my hand to + check him. “I think you ought to understand the whole case—if + you’ll let me tell you what I know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead,” he bade me. “I’ll try to listen + patiently, though the very thought of the fellow has always set my teeth + on edge.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s not at all what you think,” I said. “There’s + an enormous difference, almost impossible to explain to you, but something + you’d understand at once if you saw him. It’s such a + difference, in fact, that when I found that he was Larrabee Harman the + revelation was inexpressibly shocking and distressing to me. He came here + under another name; I had no suspicion that he was any one I’d ever + heard of, much less that I’d actually seen him twice, two years ago, + and I’ve grown to—well, in truth, to be fond of him.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the change?” asked Ward, and his voice showed that he + was greatly disquieted. “What is he like?” + </p> + <p> + “As well as I can tell you, he’s like an odd but very engaging + boy, with something pathetic about him; quite splendidly handsome—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he had good looks to spare when I first knew him,” George + said bitterly. “I dare say he’s got them back if he’s + taken care of himself, or been taken care OF, rather! But go on; I won’t + interrupt you again. Why did he come here? Hoping to see—” + </p> + <p> + “No. When he came here he did not know of her existence except in + the vaguest way. But to go back to that, I’d better tell you first + that the woman we saw with him, one day on the boulevard, and who was in + the accident with him—” + </p> + <p> + “La Mursiana, the dancer; I know.” + </p> + <p> + “She had got him to go through a marriage with her—” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT?” Ward’s eyes flashed as he shouted the word. + </p> + <p> + “It seems inexplicable; but as I understand it, he was never quite + sober at that time; he had begun to use drugs, and was often in a + half-stupefied condition. As a matter of fact, the woman did what she + pleased with him. There’s no doubt about the validity of the + marriage. And what makes it so desperate a muddle is that since the + marriage she’s taken good care to give no grounds upon which a + divorce could be obtained for Harman. She means to hang on.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad of that!” said George, striking his knee with + his open palm. “That will go a great way toward—” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and asked suddenly: “Did this marriage take place in + France?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You’d better hear me through,” I remonstrated. + “When he was taken from the hospital, he was placed in charge of a + Professor Keredec, a madman of whom you’ve probably heard.” + </p> + <p> + “Madman? Why, no; he’s a member of the Institute; a + psychologist or metaphysician, isn’t he?—at any rate of + considerable celebrity.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” I insisted grimly, “as misty a vapourer + as I ever saw; a poetic, self-contradicting and inconsistent orator, a + blower of bubbles, a seer of visions, a mystic, and a dreamer—about + as scientific as Alice’s White Knight! Harman’s aunt, who + lived in London, the only relative he had left, I believe—and she + has died since—put him in Keredec’s charge, and he was taken + up into the Tyrol and virtually hidden for two years, the idea being + literally to give him something like an education—Keredec’s + phrase is ‘restore mind to his soul’! What must have been + quite as vital was to get him out of his horrible wife’s clutches. + And they did it, for she could not find him. But she picked up that rat in + the garden out yonder—he’d been some sort of stable-manager + for Harman once—and set him on the track. He ran the poor boy down, + and yesterday she followed him. Now it amounts to a species of sordid + siege.” + </p> + <p> + “She wants money, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, MORE money; a fair allowance has always been sent to her. + Keredec has interviewed her notary and she wants a settlement, naming a + sum actually larger than the whole estate amounts to. There were colossal + expenditures and equally large shrinkages; what he has left is invested in + English securities and is not a fortune, but of course she won’t + believe that and refuses to budge until this impossible settlement is + made. You can imagine about how competent such a man as Keredec would be + to deal with the situation. In the mean time, his ward is in so dreadful a + state of horror and grief I am afraid it is possible that his mind may + really give way, for it was not in a normal condition, of course, though + he’s perfectly sane, as I tell you. If it should,” I + concluded, with some bitterness, “I suppose Keredec will be still + prating upliftingly on the saving of his soul!” + </p> + <p> + “When was it that Louise saw him?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that,” I said, “is where Keredec has been a poet + and a dreamer indeed. It was his PLAN that they should meet.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean he brought this wreck of Harman, these husks and shreds of + a man, down here for Louise to see?” Ward cried incredulously. + “Oh, monstrous!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I answered. “Only insane. Not because there is + anything lacking in Oliver—in Harman, I mean—for I think that + will be righted in time, but because the second marriage makes it a + useless cruelty that he should have been allowed to fall in love with his + first wife again. Yet that was Keredec’s idea of a ‘beautiful + restoration,’ as he calls it!” + </p> + <p> + “There is something behind all this that you don’t know,” + said Ward slowly. “I’ll tell you after I’ve seen this + Keredec. When did the man make you his confidant?” + </p> + <p> + “Last night. Most of what I learned was as much a revelation to his + victim as it was to me. Harman did not know till then that the lady he had + been meeting had been his wife, or that he had ever seen her before he + came here. He had mistaken her name and she did not enlighten him.” + </p> + <p> + “Meeting?” said Ward harshly. “You speak as if—” + </p> + <p> + “They have been meeting every day, George.” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t believe it of her!” he cried. “She couldn’t—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s true. He spoke to her in the woods one day; I was there + and saw it. I know now that she knew him at once; and she ran away, but—not + in anger. I shouldn’t be a very good friend of yours,” I went + on gently, “if I didn’t give you the truth. They’ve been + together every day since then, and I’m afraid—miserably + afraid, Ward—that her old feeling for him has been revived.” + </p> + <p> + I have heard Ward use an oath only two or three times in my life, and this + was one of them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by God!” he cried, starting to his feet; “I SHOULD + like to meet Professor Keredec!” + </p> + <p> + “I am at your service, my dear sir,” said a deep voice from + the veranda. And opening the door, the professor walked into the room. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + He looked old and tired and sad; it was plain that he expected attack and + equally plain that he would meet it with fanatic serenity. And yet, the + magnificent blunderer presented so fine an aspect of the tortured + Olympian, he confronted us with so vast a dignity—the driven snow of + his hair tousled upon his head and shoulders, like a storm in the higher + altitudes—that he regained, in my eyes, something of his mountain + grandeur before he had spoken a word in defence. But sympathy is not what + one should be entertaining for an antagonist; therefore I said cavalierly: + </p> + <p> + “This is Mr. Ward, Professor Keredec. He is Mrs. Harman’s + cousin and close friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I had divined it.” The professor made a French bow, and + George responded with as slight a salutation as it has been my lot to see. + </p> + <p> + “We were speaking of your reasons,” I continued, “for + bringing Mr. Harman to this place. Frankly, we were questioning your + motive.” + </p> + <p> + “My motives? I have wished to restore to two young people the + paradise which they had lost”. + </p> + <p> + Ward uttered an exclamation none the less violent because it was + half-suppressed, while, for my part, I laughed outright; and as Keredec + turned his eyes questioningly upon me, I said: + </p> + <p> + “Professor Keredec, you’d better understand at once that I + mean to help undo the harm you’ve done. I couldn’t tell you + last night, in Harman’s presence, but I think you’re + responsible for the whole ghastly tragi-comedy—as hopeless a tangle + as ever was made on this earth!” + </p> + <p> + This was even more roughly spoken than I had intended, but it did not + cause him to look less mildly upon me, nor was there the faintest shadow + of resentment in his big voice when he replied: + </p> + <p> + “In this world things may be tangled, they may be sad, yet they may + be good.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid that seems rather a trite generality. I beg you to + remember that plain-speaking is of some importance just now.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we should be glad of the explanation,” said Ward, + resting his arms on my table and leaning across it toward Keredec. + </p> + <p> + “We should, indeed,” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + “It is simple,” began the professor. “I learned my poor + boy’s history well, from those who could tell me, from his papers—yes, + and from the bundles of old-time letters which were given me—since + it was necessary that I should know everything. From all these I learned + what a strong and beautiful soul was that lady who loved him so much that + she ran away from her home for his sake. Helas! he was already the slave + of what was bad and foolish, he had gone too far from himself, was + overlaid with the habit of evil, and she could not save him then. The + spirit was dying in him, although it was there, and IT was good—” + </p> + <p> + Ward’s acrid laughter rang out in the room, and my admiration went + unwillingly to Keredec for the way he took it, which was to bow gravely, + as if acknowledging the other’s right to his own point of view. + </p> + <p> + “If you will study the antique busts,” he said, “you + will find that Socrates is Silenus dignified. I choose to believe in the + infinite capacities of all men—and in the spirit in all. And so I + try to restore my poor boy his capacities and his spirit. But that was not + all. The time was coming when I could do no more for him, when the little + education of books would be finish’ and he must go out in the world + again to learn—all newly—how to make of himself a man of use. + That is the time of danger, and the thought was troubling me when I + learned that Madame Harman was here, near this inn, of which I knew. So I + brought him.” + </p> + <p> + “The inconceivable selfishness, the devilish brutality of it!” + Ward’s face was scarlet. “You didn’t care how you + sacrificed her—” + </p> + <p> + “Sacrificed!” The professor suddenly released the huge volume + of his voice. “Sacrificed!” he thundered. “If I could + give him back to her as he is now, it would be restoring to her all that + she had loved in him, the real SELF of him! It would be the greatest gift + in her life.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak for her?” demanded Ward, the question coming like a + lawyer’s. It failed to disturb Keredec, who replied quietly: + </p> + <p> + “It is a quibble. I speak for her, yes, my dear sir. Her action in + defiance of her family and her friends proved the strength of what she + felt for the man she married; that she have remained with him three years—until + it was impossible—proved its persistence; her letters, which I read + with reverence, proved its beauty—to me. It was a living passion, + one that could not die. To let them see each other again; that was all I + intended. To give them their new chance—and then, for myself, to + keep out of the way. That was why—” he turned to me—“that + was why I have been guilty of pretending to have that bad rheumatism, and + I hope you will not think it an ugly trick of me! It was to give him his + chance freely; and though at first I had much anxiety, it was done. In + spite of all his wicked follies theirs had been a true love, and nothing + in this world could be more inevitable than that they should come together + again if the chance could be given. And they HAVE, my dear sirs! It has so + happened. To him it has been a wooing as if for the first time; so she has + preferred it, keeping him to his mistake of her name. She feared that if + he knew that it was the same as his own he might ask questions of me, and, + you see, she did not know that I had made this little plan, and was afraid—” + </p> + <p> + “We are not questioning Mrs. Harman’s motives,” George + interrupted hotly, “but YOURS!” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, my dear sir; that is all. I have explained them.” + </p> + <p> + “You have?” I interjected. “Then, my dear Keredec, + either you are really insane or I am! You knew that this poor, unfortunate + devil of a Harman was tied to that hyenic prowler yonder who means to + fatten on him, and will never release him; you knew that. Then why did you + bring him down here to fall in love with a woman he can never have? In + pity’s name, if you didn’t hope to half kill them both, what + DID you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” interposed George quickly, “you + underrate Professor Keredec’s shrewdness. His plans are not so + simple as you think. He knows that my cousin Louise never obtained a + divorce from her husband.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” I said, not immediately comprehending his meaning. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Mrs. Harman never obtained a divorce.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you delirious?” I gasped. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the truth; she never did.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw a notice of it at the time. ‘A notice?’ I saw a + hundred!” + </p> + <p> + “No. What you saw was that she had made an application for divorce. + Her family got her that far and then she revolted. The suit was dropped.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true, indeed,” said Keredec. “The poor boy was on + the other side of the world, and he thought it was granted. He had been + bad before, but from that time he cared nothing what became of him. That + was the reason this Spanish woman—” + </p> + <p> + I turned upon him sharply. “YOU knew it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a year that I have known it; when his estate was—” + </p> + <p> + “Then why didn’t you tell me last night?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, I could not in HIS presence, because it is one thing I + dare not let him know. This Spanish woman is so hideous, her claim upon + him is so horrible to him I could not hope to control him—he would + shout it out to her that she cannot call him husband. God knows what he + would do!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why shouldn’t he shout it out to her?” + </p> + <p> + “You do not understand,” George interposed again, “that + what Professor Keredec risked for his ‘poor boy,’ in returning + to France, was a trial on the charge of bigamy!” + </p> + <p> + The professor recoiled from the definite brutality. “My dear sir! It + is not possible that such a thing can happen.” + </p> + <p> + “I conceive it very likely to happen,” said George, “unless + you get him out of the country before the lady now installed here as his + wife discovers the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “But she must not!” Keredec lifted both hands toward Ward + appealingly; they trembled, and his voice betrayed profound agitation. + “She cannot! She has never suspected such a thing; there is nothing + that could MAKE her suspect it!” + </p> + <p> + “One particular thing would be my telling her,” said Ward + quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” cried the professor, stepping back from him. “You + could not do that!” + </p> + <p> + “I not only could, but I will, unless you get him out of the country—and + quickly!” + </p> + <p> + “George!” I exclaimed, coming forward between them. “This + won’t do at all. You can’t—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s enough,” he said, waving me back, and I saw that + his hand was shaking, too, like Keredec’s. His face had grown very + white; but he controlled himself to speak with a coolness that made what + he said painfully convincing. “I know what you think,” he went + on, addressing me, “but you’re wrong. It isn’t for + myself. When I sailed for New York in the spring I thought there was a + chance that she would carry out the action she begun four years ago and go + through the form of ridding herself of him definitely; that is, I thought + there was some hope for me; I believed there was until this morning. But I + know better now. If she’s seen him again, and he’s been + anything except literally unbearable, it’s all over with ME. From + the first, I never had a chance against him; he was a hard rival, even + when he’d become only a cruel memory.” His voice rose. “I’ve + lived a sober, decent life, and I’ve treated HER with gentleness and + reverence since she was born, and HE’S done nothing but make a + stew-pan of his life and neglect and betray her when he had her. Heaven + knows why it is; it isn’t because of anything he’s done or + has, it’s just because it’s HIM, I suppose, but I know my + chance is gone for good! THAT leaves me free to act for her; no one can + accuse me of doing it for myself. And I swear she sha’n’t go + through that slough of despond again while I have breath in my body!” + </p> + <p> + “Steady, George!” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’m steady enough,” he cried. “Professor + Keredec shall be convinced of it! My cousin is not going into the mire + again; she shall be freed of it for ever: I speak as her relative now, the + representative of her family and of those who care for her happiness and + good. Now she SHALL make the separation definite—and LEGAL! And let + Professor Keredec get his ‘poor boy’ out of the country. Let + him do it quickly! I make it as a condition of my not informing the woman + yonder and her lawyer. And by my hope of salvation I warn you—” + </p> + <p> + “George, for pity’s sake!” I shouted, throwing my arm + about his shoulders, for his voice had risen to a pitch of excitement and + fury that I feared must bring the whole place upon us. He caught himself + up suddenly, stared at me blankly for a moment, then sank into a chair + with a groan. As he did so I became aware of a sound that had been + worrying my subconsciousness for an indefinite length of time, and + realised what it was. Some one was knocking for admission. + </p> + <p> + I crossed the room and opened the door. Miss Elizabeth stood there, + red-faced and flustered, and behind her stood Mr. Cresson Ingle, who + looked dubiously amused. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—come in,” I said awkwardly. “George is here. + Let me present Professor Keredec—” + </p> + <p> + “‘George is here!’” echoed Miss Elizabeth, + interrupting, and paying no attention whatever to an agitated bow on the + part of the professor. “I should say he WAS! They probably know THAT + all the way to Trouville!” + </p> + <p> + “We were discussing—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I know what you were discussing,” she said impatiently. + “Come in, Cresson.” She turned to Mr. Ingle, who was obviously + reluctant. “It is a family matter, and you’ll have to go + through with it now.” + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me,” I said. “May I offer—” + </p> + <p> + “Not now!” Miss Elizabeth cut short a rather embarrassed + handshake which her betrothed and I were exchanging. “I’m in a + very nervous and distressed state of mind, as I suppose we all are, for + that matter. This morning I learned the true situation over here; and I’m + afraid Louise has heard; at least she’s not at Quesnay. I got into a + panic for fear she had come here, but thank heaven she does not seem to—Good + gracious! What’s THAT?” + </p> + <p> + It was the discordant voice of Mariana la Mursiana, crackling in strident + protest. My door was still open; I turned to look and saw her, hot-faced, + tousle-haired, insufficiently wrapped, striving to ascend the gallery + steps, but valiantly opposed by Madame Brossard, who stood in the way. + </p> + <p> + “But NO, madame,” insisted Madame Brossard, excited but darkly + determined. “You cannot ascend. There is nothing on the upper floor + of this wing except the apartment of Professor Keredec.” + </p> + <p> + “Name of a dog!” shrilled the other. “It is my husband’s + apartment, I tell you. Il y a une femme avec lui!” + </p> + <p> + “It is Madame Harman who is there,” said Keredec hoarsely in + my ear. “I came away and left them together.” + </p> + <p> + “Come,” I said, and, letting the others think what they would, + sprang across the veranda, the professor beside me, and ran toward the two + women who were beginning to struggle with more than their tongues. I + leaped by them and up the steps, but Keredec thrust himself between our + hostess and her opponent, planting his great bulk on the lowest step. + Glancing hurriedly over my shoulder, I saw the Spanish woman strike him + furiously upon the breast with both hands, but I knew she would never pass + him. + </p> + <p> + I entered the salon of the “Grande Suite,” and closed the door + quickly behind me. + </p> + <p> + Louise Harman was standing at the other end of the room; she wore the + pretty dress of white and lilac and the white hat. She looked cool and + beautiful and good, and there were tears in her eyes. To come into this + quiet chamber and see her so, after the hot sunshine and tawdry scene + below, was like leaving the shouting market-place for a shadowy chapel. + </p> + <p> + Her husband was kneeling beside her; he held one of her hands in both his, + her other rested upon his head; and something in their attitudes made me + know I had come in upon their leave-taking. But from the face he lifted + toward her all trace of his tragedy had passed: the wonder and worship + written there left no room for anything else. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Harman—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she said. “I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t want you to. I’ve come for fear you would, + and you—you must not,” I stammered. “You must wait.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s necessary,” I floundered. “There is a scene—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she said quietly. “THAT must be, of course.” + </p> + <p> + Harman rose, and she took both his hands, holding them against her breast. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said gently,—“my dearest, you must + stay. Will you promise not to pass that door, even, until you have word + from me again?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered huskily, “if you’ll promise it + SHALL come—some day?” + </p> + <p> + “It shall, indeed. Be sure of it.” + </p> + <p> + I had turned away, but I heard the ghost of his voice whispering “good-bye.” + Then she was beside me and opening the door. + </p> + <p> + I tried to stay her. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Harman,” I urged, “I earnestly beg you—” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered, “this is better.” + </p> + <p> + She stepped out upon the gallery; I followed, and she closed the door. + Upon the veranda of my pavilion were my visitors from Quesnay, staring up + at us apprehensively; Madame Brossard and Keredec still held the foot of + the steps, but la Mursiana had abandoned the siege, and, accompanied by + Mr. Percy and Rameau, the black-bearded notary, who had joined her, was + crossing the garden toward her own apartment. + </p> + <p> + At the sound of the closing door, she glanced over her shoulder, sent + forth a scream, and, whirling about, ran viciously for the steps, where + she was again blocked by the indomitable Keredec. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you foolish woman, I know who you are,” she cried, + stepping back from him to shake a menacing hand at the quiet lady by my + side. “You want to get yourself into trouble! That man in the room + up there has been my husband these two years and more.” + </p> + <p> + “No, madame,” said Louise Harman, “you are mistaken; he + is my husband.” + </p> + <p> + “But you divorced him,” vociferated the other wildly. “You + divorced him in America!” + </p> + <p> + “No. You are mistaken,” the quiet voice replied. “The + suit was withdrawn. He is still my husband.” + </p> + <p> + I heard the professor’s groan of despair, but it was drowned in the + wild shriek of Mariana. “WHAT? You tell ME that? Ah, the miserable! + If what you say is true, he shall pay bitterly! He shall wish that he had + died by fire! What! You think he can marry ME, break my leg so that I + cannot dance again, ruin my career, and then go away with a pretty woman + like you and be happy? Aha, there are prisons in France for people who + marry two like that; I do not know what they do in YOUR barbaric country, + but they are decent people over here and they punish. He shall pay for it + in suffering—” her voice rose to an incredible and unbearable + shriek—“and you, YOU shall pay, too! You can’t come + stealing honest women’s husbands like that. You shall PAY!” + </p> + <p> + I saw George Ward come running forward with his hand upraised in a gesture + of passionate warning, for Mrs. Harman, unnoticed by me—I was + watching the Spanish woman—had descended the steps and had passed + Keredec, walking straight to Mariana. I leaped down after her, my heart in + my throat, fearing a thousand things. + </p> + <p> + “You must not talk like that,” she said, not lifting her voice—yet + every one in the courtyard heard her distinctly. “You can do neither + of us any harm in the world.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + It is impossible to say what Mariana would have done had there been no + interference, for she had worked herself into one of those furies which + women of her type can attain when they feel the occasion demands it, a + paroxysm none the less dangerous because its foundation is histrionic. But + Rameau threw his arms about her; Mr. Percy came hastily to his assistance, + and Ward and I sprang in between her and the too-fearless lady she strove + to reach. Even at that, the finger-nails of Mariana’s right hand + touched the pretty white hat—but only touched it and no more. + </p> + <p> + Rameau and the little spy managed to get their vociferating burden across + the courtyard and into her own door, where she suddenly subsided, + disappearing within the passage to her apartment in unexpected silence—indubitably + a disappointment to the interested Amedee, to Glouglou, Francois, and the + whole personnel of the inn, who hastened to group themselves about the + door in attentive attitudes. + </p> + <p> + “In heaven’s name,” gasped Miss Elizabeth, seizing her + cousin by the arm, “come into the pavilion. Here’s the whole + world looking at us!” + </p> + <p> + “Professor Keredec—” Mrs. Harman began, resisting, and + turning to the professor appealingly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let him come too!” said Miss Elizabeth desperately. + “Nothing could be worse than this!” + </p> + <p> + She led the way back to the pavilion, and, refusing to consider a proposal + on the part of Mr. Ingle and myself to remain outside, entered the room + last, herself, producing an effect of “shooing” the rest of us + in; closed the door with surprising force, relapsed in a chair, and burst + into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Not a soul at Quesnay,” sobbed the mortified chatelaine—“not + one but will know this before dinner! They’ll hear the whole thing + within two hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t there any way of stopping that, at least?” Ward + said to me. + </p> + <p> + “None on earth, unless you go home at once and turn your visitors + and THEIR servants out of the house,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing they shouldn’t know,” said Mrs. + Harman. + </p> + <p> + George turned to her with a smile so bravely managed that I was proud of + him. “Oh, yes, there is,” he said. “We’re going to + get you out of all this.” + </p> + <p> + “All this?” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “All this MIRE!” he answered. “We’re going to get + you out of it and keep you out of it, now, for good. I don’t know + whether your revelation to the Spanish woman will make that easier or + harder, but I do know that it makes the mire deeper.” + </p> + <p> + “For whom?” + </p> + <p> + “For Harman. But you sha’n’t share it!” + </p> + <p> + Her anxious eyes grew wider. “How have I made it deeper for him? + Wasn’t it necessary that the poor woman should be told the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Professor Keredec seemed to think it important that she shouldn’t.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to Keredec with a frightened gesture and an unintelligible word + of appeal, as if entreating him to deny what George had said. The + professor’s beard was trembling; he looked haggard; an almost + pitiable apprehension hung upon his eyelids; but he came forward manfully. + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” he said, “you could never in your life do + anything that would make harm. You were right to speak, and I had short + sight to fear, since it was the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “But why did you fear it?” + </p> + <p> + “It was because—” he began, and hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I must know the reason,” she urged. “I must know just + what I’ve done.” + </p> + <p> + “It was because,” he repeated, running a nervous hand through + his beard, “because the knowledge would put us so utterly in this + people’s power. Already they demand more than we could give them; + now they can—” + </p> + <p> + “They can do what?” she asked tremulously. + </p> + <p> + His eyes rested gently on her blanched and stricken face. “Nothing, + my dear lady,” he answered, swallowing painfully. “Nothing + that will last. I am an old man. I have seen and I have—I have + thought. And I tell you that only the real survives; evil actions are some + phantoms that disappear. They must not trouble us.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a high plane,” George intervened, and he spoke + without sarcasm. “To put it roughly, these people have been asking + more than the Harman estate is worth; that was on the strength of the + woman’s claim as a wife; but now they know she is not one, her + position is immensely strengthened, for she has only to go before the + nearest Commissaire de Police—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” Mrs. Harman cried passionately. “I haven’t + done THAT! You mustn’t tell me I have. You MUSTN’T!” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” he answered. “There could not be a greater lie + than to say you have done it. The responsibility is with the wretched and + vicious boy who brought the catastrophe upon himself. But don’t you + see that you’ve got to keep out of it, that we’ve got to take + you out of it?” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t! I’m part of it; better or worse, it’s + as much mine as his.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” cried Miss Elizabeth. “YOU mustn’t tell + us THAT!” Still weeping, she sprang up and threw her arms about her + brother. “It’s too horrible of you—” + </p> + <p> + “It is what I must tell you,” Mrs. Harman said. “My + separation from my husband is over. I shall be with him now for—” + </p> + <p> + “I won’t listen to you!” Miss Elizabeth lifted her wet + face from George’s shoulder, and there was a note of deep anger in + her voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about; + you haven’t the faintest idea of what a hideous situation that + creature has made for himself. Don’t you know that that awful woman + was right, and there are laws in France? When she finds she can’t + get out of him all she wants, do you think she’s going to let him + off? I suppose she struck you as being quite the sort who’d prove + nobly magnanimous! Are you so blind you don’t see exactly what’s + going to happen? She’ll ask twice as much now as she did before; and + the moment it’s clear that she isn’t going to get it, she’ll + call in an agent of police. She’ll get her money in a separate suit + and send him to prison to do it. The case against him is positive; there + isn’t a shadow of hope for him. You talk of being with him; don’t + you see how preposterous that is? Do you imagine they encourage family + housekeeping in French prisons?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, this won’t do!” The speaker was Cresson + Ingle, who stepped forward, to my surprise; for he had been hovering in + the background wearing an expression of thorough discomfort. + </p> + <p> + “You’re going much too far,” he said, touching his + betrothed upon the arm. “My dear Elizabeth, there is no use + exaggerating; the case is unpleasant enough just as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “In what have I exaggerated?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I KNEW Larrabee Harman,” he returned. “I knew him + fairly well. I went as far as Honolulu with him, when he and some of his + heelers started round the world; and I remember that papers were served on + him in San Francisco. Mrs. Harman had made her application; it was just + before he sailed. About a year and a half or two years later I met him + again, in Paris. He was in pretty bad shape; seemed hypnotised by this + Mariana and afraid as death of her; she could go into a tantrum that would + frighten him into anything. It was a joke—down along the line of the + all-night dancers and cafes—that she was going to marry him; and + some one told me afterward that she claimed to have brought it about. I + suppose it’s true; but there is no question of his having married + her in good faith. He believed that the divorce had been granted; he’d + offered no opposition to it whatever. He was travelling continually, and I + don’t think he knew much of what was going on, even right around + him, most of the time. He began with cognac and absinthe in the morning, + you know. For myself, I always supposed the suit had been carried through; + so did people generally, I think. He’ll probably have to stand + trial, and of course he’s technically guilty, but I don’t + believe he’d be convicted—though I must say it would have been + a most devilish good thing for him if he could have been got out of France + before la Mursiana heard the truth. Then he could have made terms with her + safely at a distance—she’d have been powerless to injure him + and would have precious soon come to time and been glad to take whatever + he’d give her. NOW, I suppose, that’s impossible, and they’ll + arrest him if he tries to budge. But this talk of prison and all that is + nonsense, my dear Elizabeth!” + </p> + <p> + “You admit there is a chance of it!” she retorted. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve said all I had to say,” returned Mr. Ingle with a + dubious laugh. “And if you don’t mind, I believe I’ll + wait for you outside, in the machine. I want to look at the gear-box.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, as if in deference to possible opposition, and, none being + manifested, went hastily from the room with a sigh of relief, giving me, + as he carefully closed the door, a glance of profound commiseration over + his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Miss Elizabeth had taken her brother’s hand, not with the effect of + clinging for sympathy; nor had her throwing her arms about him produced + that effect; one could as easily have imagined Brunhilda hiding her face + in a man’s coat-lapels. George’s sister wept, not weakly: she + was on the defensive, but not for herself. + </p> + <p> + “Does the fact that he may possibly escape going to prison”—she + addressed her cousin—“make his position less scandalous, or + can it make the man himself less detestable?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harman looked at her steadily. There was a long and sorrowful pause. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is changed,” she said finally; her eyes still fixed + gravely on Miss Elizabeth’s. + </p> + <p> + At that, the other’s face flamed up, and she uttered a half-choked + exclamation. “Oh,” she cried—“you’ve fallen + in love with playing the martyr; it’s SELF-love! You SEE yourself in + the role! No one on earth could make me believe you’re in LOVE with + this degraded imbecile—all that’s left of the wreck of a + vicious life! It isn’t that! It’s because you want to make a + shining example of yourself; you want to get down on your knees and wash + off the vileness from this befouled creature; you want—” + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” Keredec interrupted tremendously, “you speak + out of no knowledge!” He leaned toward her across the table, which + shook under the weight of his arms. “There is no vileness; no one + who is clean remains befouled because of the things that are gone.” + </p> + <p> + “They do not?” She laughed hysterically, and for my part, I + sighed in despair—for there was no stopping him. + </p> + <p> + “They do not, indeed! Do you know the relation of TIME to this + little life of ours? We have only the present moment; your consciousness + of that is your existence. Your knowledge of each present moment as it + passes—and it passes so swiftly that each word I speak now overlaps + it—yet it is all we have. For all the rest, for what has gone by and + what is yet coming—THAT has no real existence; it is all a dream. It + is not ALIVE. It IS not! It IS—nothing! So the soul that stands + clean and pure to-day IS clean and pure—and that is all there is to + say about that soul!” + </p> + <p> + “But a soul with evil tendencies,” Ward began impatiently, + “if one must meet you on your own ground—” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! my dear sir, those evil tendencies would be in the soiling + memories, and my boy is free from them.” + </p> + <p> + “He went toward all that was soiling before. Surely you can’t + pretend he may not take that direction again?” + </p> + <p> + “That,” returned the professor quickly, “is his to + choose. If this lady can be with him now, he will choose right.” + </p> + <p> + “So!” cried Miss Elizabeth, “you offer her the role of a + guide, do you? First she is to be his companion through a trial for bigamy + in a French court, and, if he is acquitted, his nurse, teacher, and moral + preceptor?” She turned swiftly to her cousin. “That’s + YOUR conception of a woman’s mission?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t any mission,” Mrs. Harman answered quietly. + “I’ve never thought about missions; I only know I belong to + him; that’s all I EVER thought about it. I don’t pretend to + explain it, or make it seem reasonable. And when I met him again, here, it + was—it was—it was proved to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Proved?” echoed Miss Elizabeth incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; proved as certainly as the sun shining proves that it’s + day.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell us?” + </p> + <p> + It was I who asked the question: I spoke involuntarily, but she did not + seem to think it strange that I should ask. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, when I first met him,” she said tremulously, “I was + frightened; but it was not he who frightened me—it was the rush of + my own feeling. I did not know what I felt, but I thought I might die, and + he was so like himself as I had first known him—but so changed, too; + there was something so wonderful about him, something that must make any + stranger feel sorry for him, and yet it is beautiful—” She + stopped for a moment and wiped her eyes, then went on bravely: “And + the next day he came, and waited for me—I should have come here for + him if he hadn’t—and I fell in with the mistake he had made + about my name. You see, he’d heard I was called ‘Madame d’Armand,’ + and I wanted him to keep on thinking that, for I thought if he knew I was + Mrs. Harman he might find out—” She paused, her lip beginning + to tremble. “Oh, don’t you see why I didn’t want him to + know? I didn’t want him to suffer as he would—as he does now, + poor child!—but most of all I wanted—I wanted to see if he + would fall in love with me again! I kept him from knowing, because, if he + thought I was a stranger, and the same thing happened again—his + caring for me, I mean—” She had begun to weep now, freely and + openly, but not from grief. “Oh!” she cried, “don’t + you SEE how it’s all proven to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I see how it has deluded you!” said Miss Elizabeth + vehemently. “I see what a rose-light it has thrown about this + creature; but it won’t last, thank God! any more than it did the + other time. The thing is for you to come to your senses before—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear, I have come to them at last and for ever!” The + words rang full and strong, though she was white and shaking, and heavy + tears filled her eyes. “I know what I am doing now, if I never knew + before!” + </p> + <p> + “You never did know—” Miss Ward began, but George + stopped her. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth!” he said quickly. “We mustn’t go on + like this; it’s more than any of us can bear. Come, let’s get + out into the air; let’s get back to Quesnay. We’ll have Ingle + drive us around the longer way, by the sea.” He turned to his + cousin. “Louise, you’ll come now? If not, we’ll have to + stay here with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll come,” she answered, trying bravely to stop the + tears that kept rising in spite of her; “if you’ll wait till”—and + suddenly she flashed through them a smile so charming that my heart ached + the harder for George—“till I can stop crying!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Earl Percy and I sat opposite each other at dinner that evening. + Perhaps, for charity’s sake, I should add that though we faced each + other, and, indeed, eyed each other solemnly at intervals, we partook not + of the same repast, having each his own table; his being set in the garden + at his constant station near the gallery steps, and mine, some fifty feet + distant, upon my own veranda, but moved out from behind the honeysuckle + screen, for I sat alone and the night was warm. + </p> + <p> + To analyse my impression of Mr. Percy’s glances, I cannot + conscientiously record that I found favour in his eyes. For one thing, I + fear he may not have recalled to his bosom a clarion sentiment (which + doubtless he had ofttimes cheered from his native gallery in softer + years): the honourable declaration that many an honest heart beats beneath + a poor man’s coat. As for his own attire, he was even as the lilies + of Quesnay; that is to say, I beheld upon him the same formation of tie + that I had seen there, the same sensuous beauty of the state waistcoat, + though I think that his buttons were, if anything, somewhat spicier than + those which had awed me at the chateau. And when we simultaneously reached + the fragrant hour of coffee, the cigarette case that glittered in his hand + was one for which some lady-friend of his (I knew intuitively) must have + given her All—and then been left in debt. + </p> + <p> + Amedee had served us both; Glouglou, as aforetime, attending the silent + “Grande Suite,” where the curtains were once more tightly + drawn. Monsieur Rameau dined with his client in her own salon, evidently; + at least, Victorine, the femme de chambre, passed to and from the kitchen + in that direction, bearing laden trays. When Mr. Percy’s cigarette + had been lighted, hesitation marked the manner of our maitre d’hotel; + plainly he wavered, but finally old custom prevailed; abandoning the + cigarette, he chose the cigar, and, hastily clearing my fashionable + opponent’s table, approached the pavilion with his most + conversational face. + </p> + <p> + I greeted him indifferently, but with hidden pleasure, for my soul (if + Keredec is right and I have one) lay sorrowing. I needed relief, and + whatever else Amedee was, he was always that. I spoke first: + </p> + <p> + “Amedee, how long a walk is it from Quesnay to Pere Baudry’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, about three-quarters of an hour for a good walker, one + might say.” + </p> + <p> + “A long way for Jean Ferret to go for a cup of cider,” I + remarked musingly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? But why should he?” asked Amedee blankly. + </p> + <p> + “Why indeed? Surely even a Norman gardener lives for more than + cider! You usually meet him there about noon, I believe?” + </p> + <p> + Methought he had the grace to blush, though there is an everlasting doubt + in my mind that it may have been the colour of the candle-shade producing + that illusion. It was a strange thing to see, at all events, and, taking + it for a physiological fact at the time, I let my willing eyes linger upon + it as long as it (or its appearance) was upon him. + </p> + <p> + “You were a little earlier than usual to-day,” I continued + finally, full of the marvel. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur?” He was wholly blank again. + </p> + <p> + “Weren’t you there about eleven? Didn’t you go about two + hours after Mr. Ward and his friends left here?” + </p> + <p> + He scratched his head. “I believe I had an errand in that direction. + Eh? Yes, I remember. Truly, I think it so happened.” + </p> + <p> + “And you found Jean Ferret there?” + </p> + <p> + “Where, monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “At Pere Baudry’s.” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur.” He was firm, somewhat reproachful. + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t see Jean Ferret this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur?” + </p> + <p> + “Amedee!” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, but I did not find him at Pere Baudry’s! It may have + happened that I stopped there, but he did not come until some time after.” + </p> + <p> + “After you had gone away from Pere Baudry’s, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No, monsieur; after I arrived there. Truly.” + </p> + <p> + “Now we have it! And you gave him the news of all that had happened + here?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + A world—no, a constellation, a universe!—of reproach was in + the word. + </p> + <p> + “I retract the accusation,” I said promptly. “I meant + something else.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon everything that takes place at our hotel here, I am silent to + all the world.” + </p> + <p> + “As the grave!” I said with enthusiasm. “Truly—that + is a thing well known. But Jean Ferret, then? He is not so discreet; I + have suspected that you are in his confidence. At times you have even + hinted as much. Can you tell me if he saw the automobile of Monsieur Ingle + when it came back to the chateau after leaving here?” + </p> + <p> + “It had arrived the moment before he departed.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite SO! I understand,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “He related to me that Mademoiselle Ward had the appearance of + agitation, and Madame d’Armand that of pallor, which was also the + case with Monsieur Ward.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore,” I said, “Jean Ferret ran all the way to + Pere Baudry’s to learn from you the reason for this agitation and + this pallor?” + </p> + <p> + “But, monsieur—” + </p> + <p> + “I retract again!” I cut him off—to save time. “What + other news had he?” + </p> + <p> + There came a gleam into his small, infolded eyes, a tiny glitter + reflecting the mellow candle-light, but changing it, in that reflection, + to a cold and sinister point of steel. It should have warned me, but, as + he paused, I repeated my question. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, people say everything,” he answered, frowning as if + deploring what they said in some secret, particular instance. “The + world is full of idle gossipers, tale-bearers, spreaders of scandal! And, + though I speak with perfect respect, all the people at the chateau are not + perfect in such ways.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean the domestics?” + </p> + <p> + “The visitors!” + </p> + <p> + “What do they say?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh, well, then, they say—but no!” He contrived a + masterly pretense of pained reluctance. “I cannot—” + </p> + <p> + “Speak out,” I commanded, piqued by his shilly-shallying. + “What do they say?” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, it is about”—he shifted his weight from one + leg to the other—“it is about—about that beautiful + Mademoiselle Elliott who sometimes comes here.” + </p> + <p> + This was so far from what I had expected that I was surprised into a + slight change of attitude, which all too plainly gratified him, though he + made an effort to conceal it. “Well,” I said uneasily, “what + do they find to say of Mademoiselle Elliott?” + </p> + <p> + “They say that her painting is only a ruse to see monsieur.” + </p> + <p> + “To see Monsieur Saffren, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But, no!” he cried. “That is not—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is,” I assured him calmly. “As you know, + Monsieur Saffren is very, very handsome, and Mademoiselle Elliott, being a + painter, is naturally anxious to look at him from time to time.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure?” he said wistfully, even plaintively. “That + is not the meaning Jean Ferret put upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “He was mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be, it may be,” he returned, greatly crestfallen, + picking up his tray and preparing to go. “But Jean Ferret was very + positive.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am even more so!” + </p> + <p> + “Then that malicious maid of Mademoiselle Ward’s was mistaken + also,” he sighed, “when she said that now a marriage is to + take place between Mademoiselle Ward and Monsieur Ingle—” + </p> + <p> + “Proceed,” I bade him. + </p> + <p> + He moved a few feet nearer the kitchen. “The malicious woman said to + Jean Ferret—” He paused and coughed. “It was in + reference to those Italian jewels monsieur used to send—” + </p> + <p> + “What about them?” I asked ominously. + </p> + <p> + “The woman says that Mademoiselle Ward—” he increased + the distance between us—“that now she should give them to + Mademoiselle Elliott! GOOD night, monsieur!” + </p> + <p> + His entrance into the kitchen was precipitate. I sank down again into the + wicker chair (from which I had hastily risen) and contemplated the stars. + But the short reverie into which I then fell was interrupted by Mr. Percy, + who, sauntering leisurely about the garden, paused to address me. + </p> + <p> + “You folks thinks you was all to the gud, gittin’ them trunks + off, what?” + </p> + <p> + “You speak in mysterious numbers,” I returned, having no + comprehension of his meaning. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you don’ know nothin’ about it,” he + laughed satirically. “You didn’ go over to Lisieux ‘saft’noon + to ship ‘em? Oh, no, not YOU!” + </p> + <p> + “I went for a long walk this afternoon, Mr. Percy. Naturally, I + couldn’t have walked so far as Lisieux and back.” + </p> + <p> + “Luk here, m’friend,” he said sharply—“I + reco’nise ‘at you’re tryin’ t’ play your own + hand, but I ast you as man to man: DO you think you got any chanst t’ + git that feller off t’ Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “DO you think it will rain to-night?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + The light of a reflecting lamp which hung on the wall near the archway + enabled me to perceive a bitter frown upon his forehead. “When a gen’leman + asts a question AS a gen’leman,” he said, his voice expressing + a noble pathos, “I can’t see no call for no other gen’leman + to go an’ play the smart Aleck and not answer him.” + </p> + <p> + In simple dignity he turned his back upon me and strolled to the other end + of the courtyard, leaving me to the renewal of my reverie. + </p> + <p> + It was not a happy one. My friends—old and new—I saw + inextricably caught in a tangle of cross-purposes, miserably and + hopelessly involved in a situation for which I could predict no possible + relief. I was able to understand now the beauty as well as the madness of + Keredec’s plan; and I had told him so (after the departure of the + Quesnay party), asking his pardon for my brusquerie of the morning. But + the towering edifice his hopes had erected was now tumbled about his ears: + he had failed to elude the Mursiana. There could be no doubt of her + absolute control of the situation. THAT was evident in the every step of + the youth now confidently parading before me. + </p> + <p> + Following his active stride with my eye, I observed him in the act of + saluting, with a gracious nod of his bare head, some one, invisible to me, + who was approaching from the road. Immediately after—and altogether + with the air of a person merely “happening in”—a slight + figure, clad in a long coat, a short skirt, and a broad-brimmed, + veil-bound brown hat, sauntered casually through the archway and came into + full view in the light of the reflector. + </p> + <p> + I sprang to my feet and started toward her, uttering an exclamation which + I was unable to stifle, though I tried to. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Mr. Percy,” she said cheerily. “It’s + the most EXUBERANT night. YOU’RE quite hearty, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Takin’ a walk, I see, little lady,” he observed with + genial patronage. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not just for that,” she returned. “It’s more + to see HIM.” She nodded to me, and, as I reached her, carelessly + gave me her left hand. “You know I’m studying with him,” + she continued to Mr. Percy, exhibiting a sketch-book under her arm. + “I dropped over to get a criticism.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, drawin’-lessons?” said Mr. Percy tolerantly. + “Well, don’ lemme interrup’ ye.” + </p> + <p> + He moved as if to withdraw toward the steps, but she detained him with a + question. “You’re spending the rest of the summer here?” + </p> + <p> + “That depends,” he answered tersely. + </p> + <p> + “I hear you have some PASSIONATELY interesting friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you hear that?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, don’t you know?” she responded commiseratingly. + “This is the most scandalously gossipy neighbourhood in France. My + DEAR young man, every one from here to Timbuctu knows all about it by this + time!” + </p> + <p> + “All about what?” + </p> + <p> + “About the excitement you’re such a VALUABLE part of; about + your wonderful Spanish friend and how she claims the strange young man + here for her husband.” + </p> + <p> + “They’ll know more’n that, I expec’,” he + returned with a side glance at me, “before VERY long.” + </p> + <p> + “Every one thinks <i>I</i> am so interesting,” she rattled on + artlessly, “because I happened to meet YOU in the woods. I’ve + held quite a levee all day. In a reflected way it makes a heroine of me, + you see, because you are one of the very MOST prominent figures in it all. + I hope you won’t think I’ve been too bold,” she pursued + anxiously, “in claiming that I really am one of your acquaintances?” + </p> + <p> + “That’ll be all right,” he politely assured her. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad.” Her laughter rang out gaily. “Because I’ve + been talking about you as if we were the OLDEST friends, and I’d + hate to have them find me out. I’ve told them everything—about + your appearance you see, and how your hair was parted, and how you were + dressed, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Luk here,” he interrupted, suddenly discharging his Bowery + laugh, “did you tell ‘em how HE was dressed?” He pointed + a jocular finger at me. “That WUD ‘a’ made a hit!” + </p> + <p> + “No; we weren’t talking of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? He’s in it, too. Bullieve me, he THINKS he is!” + </p> + <p> + “In the excitement, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Right!” said Mr. Percy amiably. “He goes round holdin’ + Rip Van Winkle Keredec’s hand when the ole man’s cryin’; + helpin’ him sneak his trunks off t’ Paris—playin’ + the hired man gener’ly. Oh, he thinks he’s quite the boy, in + this trouble!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid it’s a small part,” she returned, + “compared to yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hold my end up, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think you’d be so worn out and sleepy you couldn’t + hold your head up!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? ME? Not t’-night, m’little friend. I tuk MY sleep’s + aft’noon and let Rameau do the Sherlock a little while.” + </p> + <p> + She gazed upon him with unconcealed admiration. “You are wonderful,” + she sighed faintly, and “WONDERFUL!” she breathed again. + “How prosaic are drawing-lessons,” she continued, touching my + arm and moving with me toward the pavilion, “after listening to a + man of action like that!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percy, establishing himself comfortably in a garden chair at the foot + of the gallery steps, was heard to utter a short cough as he renewed the + light of his cigarette. + </p> + <p> + My visitor paused upon my veranda, humming, “Quand l’Amour + Meurt” while I went within and lit a lamp. “Shall I bring the + light out there?” I asked, but, turning, found that she was already + in the room. + </p> + <p> + “The sketch-book is my duenna,” she said, sinking into a chair + upon one side of the centre table, upon which I placed the lamp. “Lessons + are unquestionable, at any place or time. Behold the beautiful posies!” + She spread the book open on the table between us, as I seated myself + opposite her, revealing some antique coloured smudges of flowers. “Elegancies + of Eighteen-Forty! Isn’t that a survival of the period when young + ladies had ‘accomplishments,’ though! I found it at the + chateau and—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” I said. “Don’t you know that you can’t + ramble over the country alone at this time of night?” + </p> + <p> + “If you speak any louder,” she said, with some urgency of + manner, “you’ll be ‘hopelessly compromised socially,’ + as Mrs. Alderman McGinnis and the Duchess of Gwythyl-Corners say”—she + directed my glance, by one of her own, through the open door to Mr. Percy—“because + HE’LL hear you and know that the sketch-book was only a shallow + pretext of mine to see you. Do be a little manfully self-contained, or you’ll + get us talked about! And as for ‘this time of night,’ I + believe it’s almost half past nine.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Miss Ward know—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it likely? One of the most convenient things about a + chateau is the number of ways to get out of it without being seen. I had a + choice of eight. So I ‘suffered fearfully from neuralgia,’ + dined in my own room, and sped through the woods to my honest forester.” + She nodded brightly. “That’s YOU!” + </p> + <p> + “You weren’t afraid to come through the woods alone?” I + asked, uncomfortably conscious that her gaiety met a dull response from + me. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “But if Miss Ward finds that you’re not at the chateau—” + </p> + <p> + “She won’t; she thinks I’m asleep. She brought me up a + sleeping-powder herself.” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks you took it?” + </p> + <p> + “She KNOWS I did,” said Miss Elliott. “I’m full of + it! And that will be the reason—if you notice that I’m + particularly nervous or excited.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem all of that,” I said, looking at her eyes, which + were very wide and very brilliant. “However, I believe you always + do.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she smiled. “I knew you thought me atrocious from + the first. You find MYRIADS of objections to me, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + I had forgotten to look away from her eyes, and I kept on forgetting. (The + same thing had happened several times lately; and each time, by a somewhat + painful coincidence, I remembered my age at precisely the instant I + remembered to look away.) “Dazzling” is a good old-fashioned + word for eyes like hers; at least it might define their effect on me. + </p> + <p> + “If I did manage to object to you,” I said slowly, “it + would be a good thing for me—wouldn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ve WON!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + “Won?” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I laid a wager with myself that I’d have a pretty speech + from you before I went out of your life”—she checked a laugh, + and concluded thrillingly—“forever! I leave Quesnay to-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Your father has returned from America?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh dear, no,” she murmured. “I’ll be quite at the + world’s mercy. I must go up to Paris and retire from public life + until he does come. I shall take the vows—in some obscure but + respectable pension.” + </p> + <p> + “You can’t endure the life at the chateau any longer?” + </p> + <p> + “It won’t endure ME any longer. If I shouldn’t go + to-morrow I’d be put out, I think—after to-night!” + </p> + <p> + “But you intimated that no one would know about to-night!” + </p> + <p> + “The night isn’t over yet,” she replied enigmatically. + </p> + <p> + “It almost is—for you,” I said; “because in ten + minutes I shall take you back to the chateau gates.” + </p> + <p> + She offered no comment on this prophecy, but gazed at me thoughtfully and + seriously for several moments. “I suppose you can imagine,” + she said, in a tone that threatened to become tremulous, “what sort + of an afternoon we’ve been having up there?” + </p> + <p> + “Has it been—” I began. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, heart-breaking! Louise came to my room as soon as they got back + from here, this morning, and told me the whole pitiful story. But they + didn’t let her stay there long, poor woman!” + </p> + <p> + “They?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Elizabeth and her brother. They’ve been at her all + afternoon—off and on.” + </p> + <p> + “To do what?” + </p> + <p> + “To ‘save herself,’ so they call it. They’re + insisting that she must not see her poor husband again. They’re + DETERMINED she sha’n’t.” + </p> + <p> + “But George wouldn’t worry her,” I objected. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wouldn’t he?” The girl laughed sadly. “I don’t + suppose he could help it, he’s in such a state himself, but between + him and Elizabeth it’s hard to see how poor Mrs. Harman lived + through the day.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said slowly, “I don’t see that they’re + not right. She ought to be kept out of all this as much as possible; and + if her husband has to go through a trial—” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to tell me something,” Miss Elliott interrupted. + “How much do you like Mr. Ward?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s an old friend. I suppose I like my old friends in about + the same way that other people like theirs.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you like Mr. Saffren—I mean Mr. Harman?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, THAT!” I groaned. “If I could still call him + ‘Oliver Saffren,’ if I could still think of him as ‘Oliver + Saffren,’ it would be easy to answer. I never was so ‘drawn’ + to a man in my life before. But when I think of him as Larrabee Harman, I + am full of misgivings.” + </p> + <p> + “Louise isn’t,” she put in eagerly, and with something + oddly like the manner of argument. “His wife isn’t!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know. Perhaps one reason is that she never saw him at quite + his worst. I did. I had only two glimpses of him—of the briefest—but + they inspired me with such a depth of dislike that I can’t tell you + how painful it was to discover that ‘Oliver Saffren’—this + strange, pathetic, attractive FRIEND of mine—is the same man.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but he isn’t!” she exclaimed quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Keredec says he is,” I laughed helplessly. + </p> + <p> + “So does Louise,” returned Miss Elliott, disdaining + consistency in her eagerness. “And she’s right—and she + cares more for him than she ever did!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she does.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you—” the girl began, then stopped for a moment, + looking at me steadily. “Aren’t you a little in love with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I answered honestly. “Aren’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “THAT’S what I wanted to know!” she said; and as she + turned a page in the sketch-book for the benefit of Mr. Percy, I saw that + her hand had begun to tremble. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” I asked, leaning toward her across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Because, if she were involved in some undertaking—something + that, if it went wrong, would endanger her happiness and, I think, even + her life—for it might actually kill her if she failed, and brought + on a worse catastrophe—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” I said anxiously, as she paused again. + </p> + <p> + “You’d help her?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I would indeed,” I assented earnestly. “I told her once + I’d do anything in the world for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Even if it involved something that George Ward might never forgive + you for?” + </p> + <p> + “I said, ‘anything in the world,’” I returned, + perhaps a little huskily. “I meant all of that. If there is anything + she wants me to do, I shall do it.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a low cry of triumph, but immediately checked it. Then she leaned + far over the table, her face close above the book, and, tracing the + outline of an uncertain lily with her small, brown-gloved forefinger, as + though she were consulting me on the drawing, “I wasn’t afraid + to come through the woods alone,” she said, in a very low voice, + “because I wasn’t alone. Louise came with me.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” I gasped. “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Baudry cottage down the road. They won’t miss her at + the chateau until morning; I locked her door on the outside, and if they + go to bother her again—though I don’t think they will—they’ll + believe she’s fastened it on the inside and is asleep. She managed + to get a note to Keredec late this afternoon; it explained everything, and + he had some trunks carried out the rear gate of the inn and carted over to + Lisieux to be shipped to Paris from there. It is to be supposed—or + hoped, at least—that this woman and her people will believe THAT + means Professor Keredec and Mr. Harman will try to get to Paris in the + same way.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” I said, “that’s what Percy meant about the + trunks. I didn’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “He’s on watch, you see,” she continued, turning a page + to another drawing. “He means to sit up all night, or he wouldn’t + have slept this afternoon. He’s not precisely the kind to be in the + habit of afternoon naps—Mr. Percy!” She laughed nervously. + “That’s why it’s almost absolutely necessary for us to + have you. If we have—the thing is so simple that it’s certain.” + </p> + <p> + “If you have me for what?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “If you’ll help”—and, as she looked up, her eyes, + now very close to mine, were dazzling indeed—“I’ll adore + you for ever and ever! Oh, MUCH longer than you’d like me to!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean she’s going to—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that she’s going to run away with him again,” + she whispered. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + At midnight there was no mistaking the palpable uneasiness with which Mr. + Percy, faithful sentry, regarded the behaviour of Miss Elliott and myself + as we sat conversing upon the veranda of the pavilion. It was not fear for + the security of his prisoner which troubled him, but the unseemliness of + the young woman’s persistence in remaining to this hour under an + espionage no more matronly than that of a sketch-book abandoned on the + table when we had come out to the open. The youth had veiled his + splendours with more splendour: a long overcoat of so glorious a plaid it + paled the planets above us; and he wandered restlessly about the garden in + this refulgence, glancing at us now and then with what, in spite of the + insufficient revelation of the starlight, we both recognised as a chilling + disapproval. The lights of the inn were all out; the courtyard was dark. + The Spanish woman and Monsieur Rameau had made their appearance for a + moment, half an hour earlier, to exchange a word with their fellow + vigilant, and, soon after, the extinguishing of the lamps in their + respective apartments denoted their retirement for the night. In the + “Grande Suite” all had been dark and silent for an hour. About + the whole place the only sign of life, aside from those signs furnished by + our three selves, was a rhythmical sound from an open window near the + kitchen, where incontrovertibly slumbered our maitre d’hotel after + the cares of the day. + </p> + <p> + Upon the occasion of our forest meeting Mr. Percy had signified his desire + to hear some talk of Art. I think he had his fill to-night—and more; + for that was the subject chosen by my dashing companion, and vivaciously + exploited until our awaited hour was at hand. Heaven knows what nonsense I + prattled, I do not; I do not think I knew at the time. I talked + mechanically, trying hard not to betray my increasing excitement. + </p> + <p> + Under cover of this traduction of the Muse I served, I kept going over and + over the details of Louise Harman’s plan, as the girl beside me had + outlined it, bending above the smudgy sketch-book. “To make them + think the flight is for Paris,” she had urged, “to Paris by + way of Lisieux. To make that man yonder believe that it is toward Lisieux, + while they turn at the crossroads, and drive across the country to + Trouville for the morning boat to Havre.” + </p> + <p> + It was simple; that was its great virtue. If they were well started, they + were safe; and well started meant only that Larrabee Harman should leave + the inn without an alarm, for an alarm sounded too soon meant “racing + and chasing on Canoby Lea,” before they could get out of the + immediate neighbourhood. But with two hours’ start, and the pursuit + spending most of its energy in the wrong direction—that is, toward + Lisieux and Paris—they would be on the deck of the French-Canadian + liner to-morrow noon, sailing out of the harbour of Le Havre, with nothing + but the Atlantic Ocean between them and the St. Lawrence. + </p> + <p> + I thought of the woman who dared this flight for her lover, of the woman + who came full-armed between him and the world, a Valkyr winging down to + bear him away to a heaven she would make for him herself. Gentle as she + was, there must have been a Valkyr in her somewhere, or she could not + attempt this. She swept in, not only between him and the world, but + between him and the destroying demons his own sins had raised to beset + him. There, I thought, was a whole love; or there she was not only wife + but mother to him. + </p> + <p> + And I remembered the dream of her I had before I ever saw her, on that + first night after I came down to Normandy, when Amedee’s talk of + “Madame d’Armand” had brought her into my thoughts. I + remembered that I had dreamed of finding her statue, but it was veiled and + I could not uncover it. And to-night it seemed to me that the veil had + lifted, and the statue was a figure of Mercy in the beautiful likeness of + Louise Harman. Then Keredec was wrong, optimist as he was, since a will + such as hers could save him she loved, even from his own acts. + </p> + <p> + “And when you come to Monticelli’s first style—” + Miss Elliott’s voice rose a little, and I caught the sound of a new + thrill vibrating in it—“you find a hundred others of his epoch + doing it quite as well, not a BIT of a bit less commonplace—” + </p> + <p> + She broke off suddenly, and looking up, as I had fifty times in the last + twenty minutes, I saw that a light shone from Keredec’s window. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say they ARE commonplace,” I remarked, rising. “But + now, if you will permit me, I’ll offer you my escort back to + Quesnay.” + </p> + <p> + I went into my room, put on my cap, lit a lantern, and returned with it to + the veranda. “If you are ready?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, quite,” she answered, and we crossed the garden as far as + the steps. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percy signified his approval. + </p> + <p> + “Gunna see the little lady home, are you?” he said graciously. + “I was THINKIN’ it was about time, m’self!” + </p> + <p> + The salon door of the “Grand Suite” opened, above me, and at + the sound, the youth started, springing back to see what it portended, but + I ran quickly up the steps. Keredec stood in the doorway, bare-headed and + in his shirt-sleeves; in one hand he held a travelling-bag, which he + immediately gave me, setting his other for a second upon my shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, my good, good friend,” he said with an emotion in + his big voice which made me glad of what I was doing. He went back into + the room, closing the door, and I descended the steps as rapidly as I had + run up them. Without pausing, I started for the rear of the courtyard, + Miss Elliott accompanying me. + </p> + <p> + The sentry had watched these proceedings open-mouthed, more mystified than + alarmed. “Luk here,” he said, “I want t’ know whut + this means.” + </p> + <p> + “Anything you choose to think it means,” I laughed, beginning + to walk a little more rapidly. He glanced up at the windows of the “Grande + Suite,” which were again dark, and began to follow us slowly. + “What you gut in that grip?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t think we’re carrying off Mr. Harman?” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon HE’S in his room all right,” said the youth + grimly; “unless he’s FLEW out. But I want t’ know what + you think y’re doin’?” + </p> + <p> + “Just now,” I replied, “I’m opening this door.” + </p> + <p> + This was a fact he could not question. We emerged at the foot of a lane + behind the inn; it was long and narrow, bordered by stone walls, and at + the other end debouched upon a road which passed the rear of the Baudry + cottage. + </p> + <p> + Miss Elliott took my arm, and we entered the lane. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percy paused undecidedly. “I want t’ know whut you think y’re + doin’?” he repeated angrily, calling after us. + </p> + <p> + “It’s very simple,” I called in turn. “Can’t + I do an errand for a friend? Can’t I even carry his travelling-bag + for him, without going into explanations to everybody I happen to meet? + And,” I added, permitting some anxiety to be marked in my voice, + “I think you may as well go back. We’re not going far enough + to need a guard.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percy allowed an oath to escape him, and we heard him muttering to + himself. Then his foot-steps sounded behind us. + </p> + <p> + “He’s coming!” Miss Elliott whispered, with nervous + exultation, looking over her shoulder. “He’s going to follow.” + </p> + <p> + “He was sure to,” said I. + </p> + <p> + We trudged briskly on, followed at some fifty paces by the perturbed + watchman. Presently I heard my companion utter a sigh so profound that it + was a whispered moan. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s the thought of Quesnay and to-morrow; facing them + with THIS!” she quavered. “Louise has written a letter for me + to give them, but I’ll have to tell them—” + </p> + <p> + “Not alone,” I whispered. “I’ll be there when you + come down from your room in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + We were embarked upon a singular adventure, not unattended by a certain + danger; we were tingling with a hundred apprehensions, occupied with the + vital necessity of drawing the little spy after us—and that was a + strange moment for a man (and an elderly painter-man of no mark, at that!) + to hear himself called what I was called then, in a tremulous whisper + close to my ear. Of course she has denied it since; nevertheless, she said + it—twice, for I pretended not to hear her the first time. I made no + answer, for something in the word she called me, and in her seeming to + mean it, made me choke up so that I could not even whisper; but I made up + my mind that, after THAT if this girl saw Mr. Earl Percy on his way back + to the inn before she wished him to go, it would be because he had killed + me. + </p> + <p> + We were near the end of the lane when the neigh of a horse sounded + sonorously from the road beyond. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Percy came running up swiftly and darted by us. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s that?” he called loudly. “Who’s that + in the cart yonder?” + </p> + <p> + I set my lantern on the ground close to the wall, and at the same moment a + horse and cart drew up on the road at the end of the lane, showing against + the starlight. It was Pere Baudry’s best horse, a stout gray, that + would easily enough make Trouville by daylight. A woman’s figure and + a man’s (the latter that of Pere Baudry himself) could be made out + dimly on the seat of the cart. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it, I say?” shouted our excited friend. “What + kind of a game d’ye think y’re puttin’ up on me here?” + </p> + <p> + He set his hand on the side of the cart and sprang upon the hub of the + wheel. A glance at the occupants satisfied him. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Harman!” he yelled. “Mrs. Harman!” He leaped + down into the road. “I knowed I was a fool to come away without + wakin’ up Rameau. But you haven’t beat us yet!” + </p> + <p> + He drove back into the lane, but just inside its entrance I met him. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Back to the pigeon-house in a hurry. There’s devilment here, + and I want Rameau. Git out o’ my way!” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not going back,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “The hell I ain’t!” said Mr. Percy. “I give ye two + seconds t’ git out o’ my—TAKE YER HANDS OFFA ME!” + </p> + <p> + I made sure of my grip, not upon the refulgent overcoat, for I feared he + might slip out of that, but upon the collars of his coat and waistcoat, + which I clenched together in my right hand. I knew that he was quick, and + I suspected that he was “scientific,” but I did it before he + had finished talking, and so made fast, with my mind and heart and soul + set upon sticking to him. + </p> + <p> + My suspicions as to his “science” were perfervidly justified. + “You long-legged devil!” he yelled, and I instantly received a + series of concussions upon the face and head which put me in supreme doubt + of my surroundings, for I seemed to have plunged, eyes foremost, into the + Milky Way. But I had my left arm around his neck, which probably saved me + from a coup de grace, as he was forced to pommel me at half-length. Pommel + it was; to use so gentle a word for what to me was crash, bang, smash, + battle, murder, earthquake and tornado. I was conscious of some one + screaming, and it seemed a consoling part of my delirium that the cheek of + Miss Anne Elliott should be jammed tight against mine through one phase of + the explosion. My arms were wrenched, my fingers twisted and tortured, + and, when it was all too clear to me that I could not possibly bear one + added iota of physical pain, the ingenious fiend began to kick my shins + and knees with feet like crowbars. + </p> + <p> + Conflict of any sort was never my vocation. I had not been an + accessory-during-the-fact to a fight since I passed the truculent age of + fourteen; and it is a marvel that I was able to hang to that dynamic + bundle of trained muscles—which defines Mr. Earl Percy well enough—for + more than ten seconds. Yet I did hang to him, as Pere Baudry testifies, + for a minute and a half, which seems no inconsiderable lapse of time to a + person undergoing such experiences as were then afflicting me. + </p> + <p> + It appeared to me that we were revolving in enormous circles in the ether, + and I had long since given my last gasp, when there came a great roaring + wind in my ears and a range of mountains toppled upon us both; we went to + earth beneath it. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you must create violence, then?” roared the avalanche. + </p> + <p> + And the voice was the voice of Keredec. + </p> + <p> + Some one pulled me from underneath my struggling antagonist, and, the + power of sight in a hazy, zigzagging fashion coming back to me, I + perceived the figure of Miss Anne Elliott recumbent beside me, her arms + about Mr. Percy’s prostrate body. The extraordinary girl had + fastened upon him, too, though I had not known it, and she had gone to + ground with us; but it is to be said for Mr. Earl Percy that no blow of + his touched her, and she was not hurt. Even in the final extremities of + temper, he had carefully discriminated in my favour. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harman was bending over her, and, as the girl sprang up lightly, + threw her arms about her. For my part, I rose more slowly, section by + section, wondering why I did not fall apart; lips, nose, and cheeks + bleeding, and I had a fear that I should need to be led like a blind man, + through my eyelids swelling shut. That was something I earnestly desired + should not happen; but whether it did, or did not—or if the heavens + fell!—I meant to walk back to Quesnay with Anne Elliott that night, + and, mangled, broken, or half-dead, presenting whatever appearance of the + prize-ring or the abattoir that I might, I intended to take the same train + for Paris on the morrow that she did. + </p> + <p> + For our days together were not at an end; nor was it hers nor my desire + that they should be. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + It was Oliver Saffren—as I like to think of him—who helped me + to my feet and wiped my face with his handkerchief, and when that one was + ruined, brought others from his bag and stanched the wounds gladly + received, in the service of his wife. + </p> + <p> + “I will remember—” he said, and his voice broke. “These + are the memories which Keredec says make a man good. I pray they will help + to redeem me.” And for the last time I heard the child in him + speaking: “I ought to be redeemed; I must be, don’t you think, + for her sake?” + </p> + <p> + “Lose no time!” shouted Keredec. “You must be gone if + you will reach that certain town for the five-o’clock train of the + morning.” This was for the spy’s benefit; it indicated Lisieux + and the train to Paris. Mr. Percy struggled; the professor knelt over him, + pinioning his wrists in one great hand, and holding him easily to earth. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! my friend—” he addressed his captive—“you + shall not have cause to say we do you any harm; there shall be no law, for + you are not hurt, and you are not going to be. But here you shall stay + quiet for a little while—till I say you can go.” As he spoke + he bound the other’s wrists with a short rope which he took from his + pocket, performing the same office immediately afterward for Mr. Percy’s + ankles. + </p> + <p> + “I take the count!” was the sole remark of that philosopher. + “I can’t go up against no herd of elephants.” + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said the professor, rising, “good-bye! The + sun shall rise gloriously for you tomorrow. Come, it is time.” + </p> + <p> + The two women were crying in each other’s arms. “Good-bye!” + sobbed Anne Elliott. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Harman turned to Keredec. “Good-bye! for a little while.” + </p> + <p> + He kissed her hand. “Dear lady, I shall come within the year.” + </p> + <p> + She came to me, and I took her hand, meaning to kiss it as Keredec had + done, but suddenly she was closer and I felt her lips upon my battered + cheek. I remember it now. + </p> + <p> + I wrung her husband’s hand, and then he took her in his arms, lifted + her to the foot-board of the cart, and sprang up beside her. + </p> + <p> + “God bless you, and good-bye!” we called. + </p> + <p> + And their voices came back to us. “God bless YOU and good-bye!” + They were carried into the enveloping night. We stared after them down the + road; watching the lantern on the tail-board of the cart diminish; + watching it dim and dwindle to a point of gray;—listening until the + hoof-beats of the heavy Norman grew fainter than the rustle of the branch + that rose above the wall beside us. But it is bad luck to strain eyes and + ears to the very last when friends are parting, because that so sharpens + the loneliness; and before the cart went quite beyond our ken, two of us + set out upon the longest way to Quesnay. + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Guest of Quesnay, by Booth Tarkington + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUEST OF QUESNAY *** + +***** This file should be named 5756-h.htm or 5756-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/7/5/5756/ + +Etext produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +HTML file produced by 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. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Guest of Quesnay + +Author: Booth Tarkington + +Posting Date: June 5, 2012 [EBook #5756] +Release Date: May, 2004 +First Posted: August 28, 2002 +Last Updated: December 11, 2004 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUEST OF QUESNAY *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +THE GUEST OF QUESNAY + +BY BOOTH TARKINGTON + +ILLUSTRATED + +NEW YORK 1915 + +TO OVID BUTLER JAMESON + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +Several pairs of brighter eyes followed my companion ...... Frontispiece + +"I haven't had my life. It's gone!" + +"You and Miss Ward are old and dear friends, aren't you?" + +"Embrasse moi, Larrabi! Embrasse moi!" she cried + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +There are old Parisians who will tell you pompously that the +boulevards, like the political cafes, have ceased to exist, but this +means only that the boulevards no longer gossip of Louis Napoleon, the +Return of the Bourbons, or of General Boulanger, for these highways are +always too busily stirring with present movements not to be forgetful +of their yesterdays. In the shade of the buildings and awnings, the +loungers, the lookers-on in Paris, the audience of the boulevard, sit +at little tables, sipping coffee from long glasses, drinking absinthe +or bright-coloured sirops, and gazing over the heads of throngs afoot +at others borne along through the sunshine of the street in carriages, +in cabs, in glittering automobiles, or high on the tops of omnibuses. + +From all the continents the multitudes come to join in that procession: +Americans, tagged with race-cards and intending hilarious disturbances; +puzzled Americans, worn with guide-book plodding; Chinese princes in +silk; queer Antillean dandies of swarthy origin and fortune; ruddy +English, thinking of nothing; pallid English, with upper teeth bared +and eyes hungrily searching for sign-boards of tea-rooms; +over-Europeanised Japanese, unpleasantly immaculate; burnoosed sheiks +from the desert, and red-fezzed Semitic peddlers; Italian nobles in +English tweeds; Soudanese negroes swaggering in frock coats; slim +Spaniards, squat Turks, travellers, idlers, exiles, fugitives, +sportsmen--all the tribes and kinds of men are tributary here to the +Parisian stream which, on a fair day in spring, already overflows the +banks with its own much-mingled waters. Soberly clad burgesses, +bearded, amiable, and in no fatal hurry; well-kept men of the world +swirling by in miraculous limousines; legless cripples flopping on +hands and leather pads; thin-whiskered students in velveteen; +walrus-moustached veterans in broadcloth; keen-faced old prelates; +shabby young priests; cavalrymen in casque and cuirass; workingmen +turned horse and harnessed to carts; sidewalk jesters, itinerant +vendors of questionable wares; shady loafers dressed to resemble +gold-showering America; motor-cyclists in leather; hairy musicians, +blue gendarmes, baggy red zouaves; purple-faced, glazed-hatted, +scarlet-waistcoated, cigarette-smoking cabmen, calling one another +"onions," "camels," and names even more terrible. Women prevalent over +all the concourse; fair women, dark women, pretty women, gilded women, +haughty women, indifferent women, friendly women, merry women. Fine +women in fine clothes; rich women in fine clothes; poor women in fine +clothes. Worldly old women, reclining befurred in electric +landaulettes; wordy old women hoydenishly trundling carts full of +flowers. Wonderful automobile women quick-glimpsed, in multiple veils +of white and brown and sea-green. Women in rags and tags, and women +draped, coifed, and befrilled in the delirium of maddened +poet-milliners and the hasheesh dreams of ladies' tailors. + +About the procession, as it moves interminably along the boulevard, a +blue haze of fine dust and burnt gasoline rises into the sunshine like +the haze over the passages to an amphitheatre toward which a crowd is +trampling; and through this the multitudes seem to go as actors passing +to their cues. Your place at one of the little tables upon the sidewalk +is that of a wayside spectator: and as the performers go by, in some +measure acting or looking their parts already, as if in preparation, +you guess the roles they play, and name them comedians, tragedians, +buffoons, saints, beauties, sots, knaves, gladiators, acrobats, +dancers; for all of these are there, and you distinguish the principles +from the unnumbered supernumeraries pressing forward to the entrances. +So, if you sit at the little tables often enough--that is, if you +become an amateur boulevardier--you begin to recognise the transient +stars of the pageant, those to whom the boulevard allows a dubious and +fugitive role of celebrity, and whom it greets with a slight flutter: +the turning of heads, a murmur of comment, and the incredulous +boulevard smile, which seems to say: "You see? Madame and monsieur +passing there--evidently they think we still believe in them!" + +This flutter heralded and followed the passing of a white touring-car +with the procession one afternoon, just before the Grand Prix, though +it needed no boulevard celebrity to make the man who lolled in the +tonneau conspicuous. Simply for THAT, notoriety was superfluous; so +were the remarkable size and power of his car; so was the elaborate +touring-costume of flannels and pongee he wore; so was even the +enamelled presence of the dancer who sat beside him. His face would +have done it without accessories. + +My old friend, George Ward, and I had met for our aperitif at the +Terrace Larue, by the Madeleine, when the white automobile came snaking +its way craftily through the traffic. Turning in to pass a victoria on +the wrong side, it was forced down to a snail's pace near the curb and +not far from our table, where it paused, checked by a blockade at the +next corner. I heard Ward utter a half-suppressed guttural of what I +took to be amazement, and I did not wonder. + +The face of the man in the tonneau detached him to the spectator's gaze +and singled him out of the concourse with an effect almost ludicrous in +its incongruity. The hair was dark, lustrous and thick, the forehead +broad and finely modelled, and certain other ruinous vestiges of youth +and good looks remained; but whatever the features might once have +shown of honour, worth, or kindly semblance had disappeared beyond all +tracing in a blurred distortion. The lids of one eye were discoloured +and swollen almost together; other traces of a recent battering were +not lacking, nor was cosmetic evidence of a heroic struggle, on the +part of some valet of infinite pains, to efface them. The nose lost +outline in the discolorations of the puffed cheeks; the chin, tufted +with a small imperial, trembled beneath a sagging, gray lip. And that +this bruised and dissipated mask should suffer the final grotesque +touch, it was decorated with the moustache of a coquettish marquis, the +ends waxed and exquisitely elevated. + +The figure was fat, but loose and sprawling, seemingly without the will +to hold itself together; in truth the man appeared to be almost in a +semi-stupor, and, contrasted with this powdered Silenus, even the woman +beside him gained something of human dignity. At least, she was +thoroughly alive, bold, predatory, and in spite of the gross +embon-point that threatened her, still savagely graceful. A purple +veil, dotted with gold, floated about her hat, from which green-dyed +ostrich plumes cascaded down across a cheek enamelled dead white. Her +hair was plastered in blue-black waves, parted low on the forehead; her +lips were splashed a startling carmine, the eyelids painted blue; and, +from between lashes gummed into little spikes of blacking, she favoured +her companion with a glance of carelessly simulated tenderness,--a look +all too vividly suggesting the ghastly calculations of a cook wheedling +a chicken nearer the kitchen door. But I felt no great pity for the +victim. + +"Who is it?" I asked, staring at the man in the automobile and not +turning toward Ward. + +"That is Mariana--'la bella Mariana la Mursiana,'" George answered; +"--one of those women who come to Paris from the tropics to form +themselves on the legend of the one great famous and infamous Spanish +dancer who died a long while ago. Mariana did very well for a time. +I've heard that the revolutionary societies intend striking medals in +her honour: she's done worse things to royalty than all the anarchists +in Europe! But her great days are over: she's getting old; that type +goes to pieces quickly, once it begins to slump, and it won't be long +before she'll be horribly fat, though she's still a graceful dancer. +She danced at the Folie Rouge last week." + +"Thank you, George," I said gratefully. "I hope you'll point out the +Louvre and the Eiffel Tower to me some day. I didn't mean Mariana." + +"What did you mean?" + +What I had meant was so obvious that I turned to my friend in surprise. +He was nervously tapping his chin with the handle of his cane and +staring at the white automobile with very grim interest. + +"I meant the man with her," I said. + +"Oh!" He laughed sourly. "That carrion?" + +"You seem to be an acquaintance." + +"Everybody on the boulevard knows who he is," said Ward curtly, paused, +and laughed again with very little mirth. "So do you," he continued; +"and as for my acquaintance with him--yes, I had once the distinction +of being his rival in a small way, a way so small, in fact, that it +ended in his becoming a connection of mine by marriage. He's Larrabee +Harman." + +That was a name somewhat familiar to readers of American newspapers +even before its bearer was fairly out of college. The publicity it then +attained (partly due to young Harman's conspicuous wealth) attached to +some youthful exploits not without a certain wild humour. But frolic +degenerated into brawl and debauch: what had been scrapes for the boy +became scandals for the man; and he gathered a more and more unsavoury +reputation until its like was not to be found outside a penitentiary. +The crux of his career in his own country was reached during a midnight +quarrel in Chicago when he shot a negro gambler. After that, the negro +having recovered and the matter being somehow arranged so that the +prosecution was dropped, Harman's wife left him, and the papers +recorded her application for a divorce. She was George Ward's second +cousin, the daughter of a Baltimore clergyman; a belle in a season and +town of belles, and a delightful, headstrong creature, from all +accounts. She had made a runaway match of it with Harman three years +before, their affair having been earnestly opposed by all her +relatives--especially by poor George, who came over to Paris just after +the wedding in a miserable frame of mind. + +The Chicago exploit was by no means the end of Harman's notoriety. +Evading an effort (on the part of an aunt, I believe) to get him locked +up safely in a "sanitarium," he began a trip round the world with an +orgy which continued from San Francisco to Bangkok, where, in the +company of some congenial fellow travellers, he interfered in a native +ceremonial with the result that one of his companions was drowned. +Proceeding, he was reported to be in serious trouble at Constantinople, +the result of an inquisitiveness little appreciated by Orientals. The +State Department, bestirring itself, saved him from a very real peril, +and he continued his journey. In Rome he was rescued with difficulty +from a street mob that unreasonably refused to accept intoxication as +an excuse for his riding down a child on his way to the hunt. Later, +during the winter just past, we had been hearing from Monte Carlo of +his disastrous plunges at that most imbecile of all games, roulette. + +Every event, no matter how trifling, in this man's pitiful career had +been recorded in the American newspapers with an elaboration which, for +my part, I found infuriatingly tiresome. I have lived in Paris so long +that I am afraid to go home: I have too little to show for my years of +pottering with paint and canvas, and I have grown timid about all the +changes that have crept in at home. I do not know the "new men," I do +not know how they would use me, and fear they might make no place for +me; and so I fit myself more closely into the little grooves I have +worn for myself, and resign myself to stay. But I am no "expatriate." I +know there is a feeling at home against us who remain over here to do +our work, but in most instances it is a prejudice which springs from a +misunderstanding. I think the quality of patriotism in those of us who +"didn't go home in time" is almost pathetically deep and real, and, +like many another oldish fellow in my position, I try to keep as close +to things at home as I can. All of my old friends gradually ceased to +write to me, but I still take three home newspapers, trying to follow +the people I knew and the things that happen; and the ubiquity of so +worthless a creature as Larrabee Harman in the columns I dredged for +real news had long been a point of irritation to this present exile. +Not only that: he had usurped space in the Continental papers, and of +late my favourite Parisian journal had served him to me with my morning +coffee, only hinting his name, but offering him with that gracious +satire characteristic of the Gallic journalist writing of anything +American. And so this grotesque wreck of a man was well known to the +boulevard--one of its sights. That was to be perceived by the flutter +he caused, by the turning of heads in his direction, and the low +laughter of the people at the little tables. Three or four in the rear +ranks had risen to their feet to get a better look at him and his +companion. + +Some one behind us chuckled aloud. "They say Mariana beats him." + +"Evidently!" + +The dancer was aware of the flutter, and called Harman's attention to +it with a touch upon his arm and a laugh and a nod of her violent +plumage. + +At that he seemed to rouse himself somewhat: his head rolled heavily +over upon his shoulder, the lids lifted a little from the red-shot +eyes, showing a strange pride when his gaze fell upon the many staring +faces. + +Then, as the procession moved again and the white automobile with it, +the sottish mouth widened in a smile of dull and cynical contempt: the +look of a half-poisoned Augustan borne down through the crowds from the +Palatine after supping with Caligula. + +Ward pulled my sleeve. + +"Come," he said, "let us go over to the Luxembourg gardens where the +air is cleaner." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Ward is a portrait-painter, and in the matter of vogue there seem to be +no pinnacles left for him to surmount. I think he has painted most of +the very rich women of fashion who have come to Paris of late years, +and he has become so prosperous, has such a polite celebrity, and his +opinions upon art are so conclusively quoted, that the friendship of +some of us who started with him has been dangerously strained. + +He lives a well-ordered life; he has always led that kind of life. Even +in his student days when I first knew him, I do not remember an +occasion upon which the principal of a New England high-school would +have criticised his conduct. And yet I never heard anyone call him a +prig; and, so far as I know, no one was ever so stupid as to think him +one. He was a quiet, good-looking, well-dressed boy, and he matured +into a somewhat reserved, well-poised man, of impressive distinction in +appearance and manner. He has always been well tended and cared for by +women; in his student days his mother lived with him; his sister, Miss +Elizabeth, looks after him now. She came with him when he returned to +Paris after his disappointment in the unfortunate Harman affair, and +she took charge of all his business--as well as his +social--arrangements (she has been accused of a theory that the two +things may be happily combined), making him lease a house in an +expensively modish quarter near the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. Miss +Elizabeth is an instinctively fashionable woman, practical withal, and +to her mind success should be not only respectable but "smart." She +does not speak of the "right bank" and the "left bank" of the Seine; +she calls them the "right bank" and the "wrong bank." And yet, though +she removed George (her word is "rescued") from many of his old +associations with Montparnasse, she warmly encouraged my friendship +with him--yea, in spite of my living so deep in the wrong bank that the +first time he brought her to my studio, she declared she hadn't seen +anything so like Bring-the-child-to-the-old-hag's-cellar-at-midnight +since her childhood. She is a handsome woman, large, and of a fine, +high colour; her manner is gaily dictatorial, and she and I got along +very well together. + +Probably she appreciated my going to some pains with the clothes I wore +when I went to their house. My visits there were infrequent, not +because I had any fear of wearing out a welcome, but on account of Miss +Elizabeth's "day," when I could see nothing of George for the crowd of +lionising women and time-wasters about him. Her "day" was a dread of +mine; I could seldom remember which day it was, and when I did she had +a way of shifting it so that I was fatally sure to run into it--to my +misery, for, beginning with those primordial indignities suffered in +youth, when I was scrubbed with a handkerchief outside the parlour door +as a preliminary to polite usages, my childhood's, manhood's prayer has +been: From all such days, Good Lord, deliver me! + +It was George's habit to come much oftener to see me. He always really +liked the sort of society his sister had brought about him; but now and +then there were intervals when it wore on him a little, I think. +Sometimes he came for me in his automobile and we would make a mild +excursion to breakfast in the country; and that is what happened one +morning about three weeks after the day when we had sought pure air in +the Luxembourg gardens. + +We drove out through the Bois and by Suresnes, striking into a +roundabout road to Versailles beyond St. Cloud. It was June, a dustless +and balmy noon, the air thinly gilded by a faint haze, and I know few +things pleasanter than that road on a fair day of the early summer and +no sweeter way to course it than in an open car; though I must not be +giving myself out for a "motorist"--I have not even the right cap. I am +usually nervous in big machines, too; but Ward has never caught the +speed mania and holds a strange power over his chauffeur; so we rolled +along peacefully, not madly, and smoked (like the car) in hasteless +content. + +"After all," said George, with a placid wave of the hand, "I sometimes +wish that the landscape had called me. You outdoor men have all the +health and pleasure of living in the open, and as for the work--oh! you +fellows think you work, but you don't know what it means." + +"No?" I said, and smiled as I always meanly do when George "talks art." +He was silent for a few moments and then said irritably, + +"Well, at least you can't deny that the academic crowd can DRAW!" + +Never having denied it, though he had challenged me in the same way +perhaps a thousand times, I refused to deny it now; whereupon he +returned to his theme: "Landscape is about as simple as a stage fight; +two up, two down, cross and repeat. Take that ahead of us. Could +anything be simpler to paint?" + +He indicated the white road running before us between open fields to a +curve, where it descended to pass beneath an old stone culvert. Beyond, +stood a thick grove with a clear sky flickering among the branches. An +old peasant woman was pushing a heavy cart round the curve, a scarlet +handkerchief knotted about her head. + +"You think it's easy?" I asked. + +"Easy! Two hours ought to do it as well as it could be done--at least, +the way you fellows do it!" He clenched his fingers as if upon the +handle of a house-painter's brush. "Slap, dash--there's your road." He +paddled the air with the imaginary brush as though painting the side of +a barn. "Swish, swash--there go your fields and your stone bridge. Fit! +Speck! And there's your old woman, her red handkerchief, and what your +dealer will probably call 'the human interest,' all complete. Squirt +the edges of your foliage in with a blow-pipe. Throw a cup of tea over +the whole, and there's your haze. Call it 'The Golden Road,' or 'The +Bath of Sunlight,' or 'Quiet Noon.' Then you'll probably get a +criticism beginning, 'Few indeed have more intangibly detained upon +canvas so poetic a quality of sentiment as this sterling landscapist, +who in Number 136 has most ethereally expressed the profound silence of +evening on an English moor. The solemn hush, the brooding quiet, the +homeward ploughman--'" + +He was interrupted by an outrageous uproar, the grisly scream of a +siren and the cannonade of a powerful exhaust, as a great white +touring-car swung round us from behind at a speed that sickened me to +see, and, snorting thunder, passed us "as if we had been standing +still." + +It hurtled like a comet down the curve and we were instantly choking in +its swirling tail of dust. + +"Seventy miles an hour!" gasped George, swabbing at his eyes. "Those +are the fellows that get into the pa--Oh, Lord! THERE they go!" + +Swinging out to pass us and then sweeping in upon the reverse curve to +clear the narrow arch of the culvert were too much for the white car; +and through the dust we saw it rock dangerously. In the middle of the +road, ten feet from the culvert, the old woman struggled frantically to +get her cart out of the way. The howl of the siren frightened her +perhaps, for she lost her head and went to the wrong side. Then the +shriek of the machine drowned the human scream as the automobile struck. + +The shock of contact was muffled. But the mass of machinery hoisted +itself in the air as if it had a life of its own and had been stung +into sudden madness. It was horrible to see, and so grotesque that a +long-forgotten memory of my boyhood leaped instantaneously into my +mind, a recollection of the evolutions performed by a Newfoundland dog +that rooted under a board walk and found a hive of wild bees. + +The great machine left the road for the fields on the right, reared, +fell, leaped against the stone side of the culvert, apparently trying +to climb it, stood straight on end, whirled backward in a +half-somersault, crashed over on its side, flashed with flame and +explosion, and lay hidden under a cloud of dust and smoke. + +Ward's driver slammed down his accelerator, sent us spinning round the +curve, and the next moment, throwing on his brakes, halted sharply at +the culvert. + +The fabric of the road was so torn and distorted one might have thought +a steam dredge had begun work there, but the fragments of wreckage were +oddly isolated and inconspicuous. The peasant's cart, tossed into a +clump of weeds, rested on its side, the spokes of a rimless wheel +slowly revolving on the hub uppermost. Some tools were strewn in a +semi-circular trail in the dust; a pair of smashed goggles crunched +beneath my foot as I sprang out of Ward's car, and a big brass lamp had +fallen in the middle of the road, crumpled like waste paper. Beside it +lay a gold rouge box. + +The old woman had somehow saved herself--or perhaps her saint had +helped her--for she was sitting in the grass by the roadside, wailing +hysterically and quite unhurt. The body of a man lay in a heap beneath +the stone archway, and from his clothes I guessed that he had been the +driver of the white car. I say "had been" because there were reasons +for needing no second glance to comprehend that the man was dead. +Nevertheless, I knelt beside him and placed my hand upon his breast to +see if his heart still beat. Afterward I concluded that I did this +because I had seen it done upon the stage, or had read of it in +stories; and even at the time I realised that it was a silly thing for +me to be doing. + +Ward, meanwhile, proved more practical. He was dragging a woman out of +the suffocating smoke and dust that shrouded the wreck, and after a +moment I went to help him carry her into the fresh air, where George +put his coat under her head. Her hat had been forced forward over her +face and held there by the twisting of a system of veils she wore; and +we had some difficulty in unravelling this; but she was very much +alive, as a series of muffled imprecations testified, leading us to +conclude that her sufferings were more profoundly of rage than of pain. +Finally she pushed our hands angrily aside and completed the +untanglement herself, revealing the scratched and smeared face of +Mariana, the dancer. + +"Cornichon! Chameau! Fond du bain!" she gasped, tears of anger starting +from her eyes. She tried to rise before we could help her, but dropped +back with a scream. + +"Oh, the pain!" she cried. "That imbecile! If he has let me break my +leg! A pretty dancer I should be! I hope he is killed." + +One of the singularities of motoring on the main-travelled roads near +Paris is the prevalence of cars containing physicians and surgeons. +Whether it be testimony to the opportunism, to the sporting +proclivities, or to the prosperity of gentlemen of those professions, I +do not know, but it is a fact that I have never heard of an accident +(and in the season there is an accident every day) on one of these +roads when a doctor in an automobile was not almost immediately a +chance arrival, and fortunately our case offered no exception to this +rule. Another automobile had already come up and the occupants were +hastily alighting. Ward shouted to the foremost to go for a doctor. + +"I am a doctor," the man answered, advancing and kneeling quickly by +the dancer. "And you--you may be of help yonder." + +We turned toward the ruined car where Ward's driver was shouting for us. + +"What is it?" called Ward as we ran toward him. + +"Monsieur," he replied, "there is some one under the tonneau here!" + +The smoke had cleared a little, though a rivulet of burning gasoline +ran from the wreck to a pool of flame it was feeding in the road. The +front cushions and woodwork had caught fire and a couple of labourers, +panting with the run across the fields, were vainly belabouring the +flames with brushwood. From beneath the overturned tonneau projected +the lower part of a man's leg, clad in a brown puttee and a russet +shoe. Ward's driver had brought his tools; had jacked up the car as +high as possible; but was still unable to release the imprisoned body. + +"I have seized that foot and pulled with all my strength," he said, +"and I cannot make him move one centimetre. It is necessary that as +many people as possible lay hold of the car on the side away from the +fire and all lift together. Yes," he added, "and very soon!" + +Some carters had come from the road and one of them lay full length on +the ground peering beneath the wreck. "It is the head of monsieur," +explained this one; "it is the head of monsieur which is fastened under +there." + +"Eh, but you are wiser than Clemenceau!" said the chauffeur. "Get up, +my ancient, and you there, with the brushwood, let the fire go for a +moment and help, when I say the word. And you, monsieur," he turned to +Ward, "if you please, will you pull with me upon the ankle here at the +right moment?" + +The carters, the labourers, the men from the other automobile, and I +laid hold of the car together. + +"Now, then, messieurs, LIFT!" + +Stifled with the gasoline smoke, we obeyed. One or two hands were +scorched and our eyes smarted blindingly, but we gave a mighty heave, +and felt the car rising. + +"Well done!" cried the chauffeur. "Well done! But a little more! The +smallest fraction--HA! It is finished, messieurs!" + +We staggered back, coughing and wiping our eyes. For a minute or two I +could not see at all, and was busy with a handkerchief. + +Ward laid his hand on my shoulder. + +"Do you know who it is?" he asked. + +"Yes, of course," I answered. + +When I could see again, I found that I was looking almost straight down +into the upturned face of Larrabee Harman, and I cannot better express +what this man had come to be, and what the degradation of his life had +written upon him, than by saying that the dreadful thing I looked upon +now was no more horrible a sight than the face I had seen, fresh from +the valet and smiling in ugly pride at the starers, as he passed the +terrace of Larue on the day before the Grand Prix. + +We helped to carry him to the doctor's car, and to lift the dancer into +Ward's, and to get both of them out again at the hospital at +Versailles, where they were taken. Then, with no need to ask each other +if we should abandon our plan to breakfast in the country, we turned +toward Paris, and rolled along almost to the barriers in silence. + +"Did it seem to you," said George finally, "that a man so frightfully +injured could have any chance of getting well?" + +"No," I answered. "I thought he was dying as we carried him into the +hospital." + +"So did I. The top of his head seemed all crushed in--Whew!" He broke +off, shivering, and wiped his brow. After a pause he added +thoughtfully, "It will be a great thing for Louise." + +Louise was the name of his second cousin, the girl who had done battle +with all her family and then run away from them to be Larrabee Harman's +wife. Remembering the stir that her application for divorce had made, I +did not understand how Harman's death could benefit her, unless George +had some reason to believe that he had made a will in her favour. +However, the remark had been made more to himself than to me and I did +not respond. + +The morning papers flared once more with the name of Larrabee Harman, +and we read that there was "no hope of his surviving." Ironic phrase! +There was not a soul on earth that day who could have hoped for his +recovery, or who--for his sake--cared two straws whether he lived or +died. And the dancer had been right; one of her legs was badly broken: +she would never dance again. + +Evening papers reported that Harman was "lingering." He was lingering +the next day. He was lingering the next week, and the end of a month +saw him still "lingering." Then I went down to Capri, where--for he had +been after all the merest episode to me--I was pleased to forget all +about him. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +A great many people keep their friends in mind by writing to them, but +more do not; and Ward and I belong to the majority. After my departure +from Paris I had but one missive from him, a short note, written at the +request of his sister, asking me to be on the lookout for Italian +earrings, to add to her collection of old jewels. So, from time to +time, I sent her what I could find about Capri or in Naples, and she +responded with neat little letters of acknowledgment. + +Two years I stayed on Capri, eating the lotus which grows on that happy +island, and painting very little--only enough, indeed, to be remembered +at the Salon and not so much as knowing how kindly or unkindly they +hung my pictures there. But even on Capri, people sometimes hear the +call of Paris and wish to be in that unending movement: to hear the +multitudinous rumble, to watch the procession from a cafe terrace and +to dine at Foyot's. So there came at last a fine day when I, knowing +that the horse-chestnuts were in bloom along the Champs Elysees, threw +my rope-soled shoes to a beggar, packed a rusty trunk, and was off for +the banks of the Seine. + +My arrival--just the drive from the Gare de Lyon to my studio--was like +the shock of surf on a bather's breast. + +The stir and life, the cheerful energy of the streets, put stir and +life and cheerful energy into me. I felt the itch to work again, to be +at it, at it in earnest--to lose no hour of daylight, and to paint +better than I had painted! + +Paris having given me this impetus, I dared not tempt her further, nor +allow the edge of my eagerness time to blunt; therefore, at the end of +a fortnight, I went over into Normandy and deposited that rusty trunk +of mine in a corner of the summer pavilion in the courtyard of Madame +Brossard's inn, Les Trois Pigeons, in a woodland neighborhood that is +there. Here I had painted through a prolific summer of my youth, and I +was glad to find--as I had hoped--nothing changed; for the place was +dear to me. Madame Brossard (dark, thin, demure as of yore, a +fine-looking woman with a fine manner and much the flavour of old +Norman portraits) gave me a pleasant welcome, remembering me readily +but without surprise, while Amedee, the antique servitor, cackled over +me and was as proud of my advent as if I had been a new egg and he had +laid me. The simile is grotesque; but Amedee is the most henlike waiter +in France. + +He is a white-haired, fat old fellow, always well-shaved; as neat as a +billiard-ball. In the daytime, when he is partly porter, he wears a +black tie, a gray waistcoat broadly striped with scarlet, and, from +waist to feet, a white apron like a skirt, and so competently +encircling that his trousers are of mere conventionality and no real +necessity; but after six o'clock (becoming altogether a maitre d'hotel) +he is clad as any other formal gentleman. At all times he wears a fresh +table-cloth over his arm, keeping an exaggerated pile of them ready at +hand on a ledge in one of the little bowers of the courtyard, so that +he may never be shamed by getting caught without one. + +His conception of life is that all worthy persons were created as +receptacles for food and drink; and five minutes after my arrival he +had me seated (in spite of some meek protests) in a wicker chair with a +pitcher of the right Three Pigeons cider on the table before me, while +he subtly dictated what manner of dinner I should eat. For this +interval Amedee's exuberance was sobered and his badinage dismissed as +being mere garniture, the questions now before us concerning grave and +inward matters. His suggestions were deferential but insistent; his +manner was that of a prime minister who goes through the form of +convincing the sovereign. He greeted each of his own decisions with a +very loud "Bien!" as if startled by the brilliancy of my selections, +and, the menu being concluded, exploded a whole volley of "Biens" and +set off violently to instruct old Gaston, the cook. + +That is Amedee's way; he always starts violently for anywhere he means +to go. He is a little lame and his progress more or less sidelong, but +if you call him, or new guests arrive at the inn, or he receives an +order from Madame Brossard, he gives the effect of running by a sudden +movement of the whole body like that of a man ABOUT to run, and moves +off using the gestures of a man who IS running; after which he proceeds +to his destination at an exquisite leisure. Remembering this old habit +of his, it was with joy that I noted his headlong departure. Some ten +feet of his progress accomplished, he halted (for no purpose but to +scratch his head the more luxuriously); next, strayed from the path to +contemplate a rose-bush, and, selecting a leaf with careful +deliberation, placed it in his mouth and continued meditatively upon +his way to the kitchen. + +I chuckled within me; it was good to be back at Madame Brossard's. + +The courtyard was more a garden; bright with rows of flowers in formal +little beds and blossoming up from big green tubs, from red jars, and +also from two brightly painted wheel-barrows. A long arbour offered a +shelter of vines for those who might choose to dine, breakfast, or +lounge beneath, and, here and there among the shrubberies, you might +come upon a latticed bower, thatched with straw. My own pavilion (half +bedroom, half studio) was set in the midst of all and had a small porch +of its own with a rich curtain of climbing honeysuckle for a screen +from the rest of the courtyard. + +The inn itself is gray with age, the roof sagging pleasantly here and +there; and an old wooden gallery runs the length of each wing, the +guest-chambers of the upper story opening upon it like the deck-rooms +of a steamer, with boxes of tulips and hyacinths along the gallery +railings and window ledges for the gayest of border-lines. + +Beyond the great open archway, which gives entrance to the courtyard, +lies the quiet country road; passing this, my eyes followed the wide +sweep of poppy-sprinkled fields to a line of low green hills; and there +was the edge of the forest sheltering those woodland interiors which I +had long ago tried to paint, and where I should be at work to-morrow. + +In the course of time, and well within the bright twilight, Amedee +spread the crisp white cloth and served me at a table on my pavilion +porch. He feigned anxiety lest I should find certain dishes (those +which he knew were most delectable) not to my taste, but was obviously +so distended with fatuous pride over the whole meal that it became a +temptation to denounce at least some trifling sauce or garnishment; +nevertheless, so much mendacity proved beyond me and I spared him and +my own conscience. This puffed-uppedness of his was to be observed only +in his expression of manner, for during the consumption of food it was +his worthy custom to practise a ceremonious, nay, a reverential, hush, +and he never offered (or approved) conversation until he had prepared +the salad. That accomplished, however, and the water bubbling in the +coffee machine, he readily favoured me with a discourse on the decline +in glory of Les Trois Pigeons. + +"Monsieur, it is the automobiles; they have done it. Formerly, as when +monsieur was here, the painters came from Paris. They would come in the +spring and would stay until the autumn rains. What busy times and what +drolleries! Ah, it was gay in those days! Monsieur remembers well. Ha, +Ha! But now, I think, the automobiles have frightened away the +painters; at least they do not come any more. And the automobiles +themselves; they come sometimes for lunch, a few, but they love better +the seashore, and we are just close enough to be too far away. Those +automobiles, they love the big new hotels and the casinos with +roulette. They eat hastily, gulp down a liqueur, and pouf! off they +rush for Trouville, for Houlgate--for heaven knows where! And even the +automobiles do not come so frequently as they did. Our road used to be +the best from Lisieux to Beuzeval, but now the maps recommend another. +They pass us by, and yet yonder--only a few kilometres--is the coast +with its thousands. We are near the world but out of it, monsieur." + +He poured my coffee; dropped a lump of sugar from the tongs with a +benevolent gesture--"One lump: always the same. Monsieur sees that I +remember well, ha?"--and the twilight having fallen, he lit two +orange-shaded candles and my cigar with the same match. The night was +so quiet that the candle-lights burned as steadily as flames in a +globe, yet the air was spiced with a cool fragrance, and through the +honeysuckle leaves above me I saw, as I leaned back in my wicker chair, +a glimmer of kindly stars. + +"Very comfortably out of the world, Amedee," I said. "It seems to me I +have it all to myself." + +"Unhappily, yes!" he exclaimed; then excused himself, chuckling. "I +should have said that we should be happier if we had many like +monsieur. But it is early in the season to despair. Then, too, our best +suite is already engaged." + +"By whom?" + +"Two men of science who arrive next week. One is a great man. Madame +Brossard is pleased that he is coming to Les Trois Pigeons, but I tell +her it is only natural. He comes now for the first time because he +likes the quiet, but he will come again, like monsieur, because he has +been here before. That is what I always say: 'Any one who has been here +must come again.' The problem is only to get them to come the first +time. Truly!" + +"Who is the great man, Amedee?" + +"Ah! A distinguished professor of science. Truly." + +"What science?" + +"I do not know. But he is a member of the Institute. Monsieur must have +heard of that great Professor Keredec?" + +"The name is known. Who is the other?" + +"A friend of his. I do not know. All the upper floor of the east wing +they have taken--the Grande Suite--those two and their +valet-de-chambre. That is truly the way in modern times--the +philosophers are rich men." + +"Yes," I sighed. "Only the painters are poor nowadays." + +"Ha, ha, monsieur!" Amedee laughed cunningly. + +"It was always easy to see that monsieur only amuses himself with his +painting." + +"Thank you, Amedee," I responded. "I have amused other people with it +too, I fear." + +"Oh, without doubt!" he agreed graciously, as he folded the cloth. I +have always tried to believe that it was not so much my pictures as the +fact that I paid my bills the day they were presented which convinced +everybody about Les Trois Pigeons that I was an amateur. But I never +became happily enough settled in this opinion to risk pressing an +investigation; and it was a relief that Amedee changed the subject. + +"Monsieur remembers the Chateau de Quesnay--at the crest of the hill on +the road north of Dives?" + +"I remember." + +"It is occupied this season by some rich Americans." + +"How do you know they are rich?" + +"Dieu de Dieu!" The old fellow appealed to heaven. "But they are +Americans!" + +"And therefore millionaires. Perfectly, Amedee." + +"Perfectly, monsieur. Perhaps monsieur knows them." + +"Yes, I know them." + +"Truly!" He affected dejection. "And poor Madame Brossard thought +monsieur had returned to our old hotel because he liked it, and +remembered our wine of Beaune and the good beds and old Gaston's +cooking!" + +"Do not weep, Amedee," I said. "I have come to paint; not because I +know the people who have taken Quesnay." And I added: "I may not see +them at all." + +In truth I thought that very probable. Miss Elizabeth had mentioned in +one of her notes that Ward had leased Quesnay, but I had not sought +quarters at Les Trois Pigeons because it stood within walking distance +of the chateau. In my industrious frame of mind that circumstance +seemed almost a drawback. Miss Elizabeth, ever hospitable to those whom +she noticed at all, would be doubly so in the country, as people always +are; and I wanted all my time to myself--no very selfish wish since my +time was not conceivably of value to any one else. I thought it wise to +leave any encounter with the lady to chance, and as the by-paths of the +country-side were many and intricate, I intended, without ungallantry, +to render the chance remote. George himself had just sailed on a +business trip to America, as I knew from her last missive; and until +his return, I should put in all my time at painting and nothing else, +though I liked his sister, as I have said, and thought of her--often. + +Amedee doubted my sincerity, however, for he laughed incredulously. + +"Eh, well, monsieur enjoys saying it!" + +"Certainly. It is a pleasure to say what one means." + +"But monsieur could not mean it. Monsieur will call at the chateau in +the morning"--the complacent varlet prophesied--"as early as it will be +polite. I am sure of that. Monsieur is not at all an old man; no, not +yet! Even if he were, aha! no one could possess the friendship of that +wonderful Madame d'Armand and remain away from the chateau." + +"Madame d'Armand?" I said. "That is not the name. You mean Mademoiselle +Ward." + +"No, no!" He shook his head and his fat cheeks bulged with a smile +which I believe he intended to express a respectful roguishness. +"Mademoiselle Ward" (he pronounced it "Ware") "is magnificent; every +one must fly to obey when she opens her mouth. If she did not like the +ocean there below the chateau, the ocean would have to move! It needs +only a glance to perceive that Mademoiselle Ward is a great lady--but +MADAME D'ARMAND! AHA!" He rolled his round eyes to an effect of +unspeakable admiration, and with a gesture indicated that he would have +kissed his hand to the stars, had that been properly reverential to +Madame d'Armand. "But monsieur knows very well for himself!" + +"Monsieur knows that you are very confusing--even for a maitre d'hotel. +We were speaking of the present chatelaine of Quesnay, Mademoiselle +Ward. I have never heard of Madame d'Armand." + +"Monsieur is serious?" + +"Truly!" I answered, making bold to quote his shibboleth. + +"Then monsieur has truly much to live for. Truly!" he chuckled openly, +convinced that he had obtained a marked advantage in a conflict of +wits, shaking his big head from side to side with an exasperating air +of knowingness. "Ah, truly! When that lady drives by, some day, in the +carriage from the chateau--eh? Then monsieur will see how much he has +to live for. Truly, truly, truly!" + +He had cleared the table, and now, with a final explosion of the word +which gave him such immoderate satisfaction, he lifted the tray and +made one of his precipitate departures. + +"Amedee," I said, as he slackened down to his sidelong leisure. + +"Monsieur?" + +"Who is Madame d'Armand?" + +"A guest of Mademoiselle Ward at Quesnay. In fact, she is in charge of +the chateau, since Mademoiselle Ward is, for the time, away." + +"Is she a Frenchwoman?" + +"It seems not. In fact, she is an American, though she dresses with so +much of taste. Ah, Madame Brossard admits it, and Madame Brossard knows +the art of dressing, for she spends a week of every winter in +Rouen--and besides there is Trouville itself only some kilometres +distant. Madame Brossard says that Mademoiselle Ward dresses with +richness and splendour and Madame d'Armand with economy, but beauty. +Those were the words used by Madame Brossard. Truly." + +"Madame d'Armand's name is French," I observed. + +"Yes, that is true," said Amedee thoughtfully. "No one can deny it; it +is a French name." He rested the tray upon a stump near by and +scratched his head. "I do not understand how that can be," he continued +slowly. "Jean Ferret, who is chief gardener at the chateau, is an +acquaintance of mine. We sometimes have a cup of cider at Pere +Baudry's, a kilometre down the road from here; and Jean Ferret has told +me that she is an American. And yet, as you say, monsieur, the name is +French. Perhaps she is French after all." + +"I believe," said I, "that if I struggled a few days over this puzzle, +I might come to the conclusion that Madame d'Armand is an American lady +who has married a Frenchman." + +The old man uttered an exclamation of triumph. + +"Ha! without doubt! Truly she must be an American lady who has married +a Frenchman. Monsieur has already solved the puzzle. Truly, truly!" And +he trulied himself across the darkness, to emerge in the light of the +open door of the kitchen with the word still rumbling in his throat. + +Now for a time there came the clinking of dishes, sounds as of pans and +kettles being scoured, the rolling gutturals of old Gaston, the cook, +and the treble pipings of young "Glouglou," his grandchild and +scullion. After a while the oblong of light from the kitchen door +disappeared; the voices departed; the stillness of the dark descended, +and with it that unreasonable sense of pathos which night in the +country brings to the heart of a wanderer. Then, out of the lonely +silence, there issued a strange, incongruous sound as an execrable +voice essayed to produce the semblance of an air odiously familiar +about the streets of Paris some three years past, and I became aware of +a smell of some dreadful thing burning. Beneath the arbour I perceived +a glowing spark which seemed to bear a certain relation to an oval +whitish patch suggesting the front of a shirt. It was Amedee, at ease, +smoking his cigarette after the day's work and convinced that he was +singing. + + "Pour qu'j'finisse + Mon service + Au Tonkin je suis parti-- + Ah! quel beau pays, mesdames! + C'est l'paradis des p'tites femmes!" + +I rose from the chair on my little porch, to go to bed; but I was +reminded of something, and called to him. + +"Monsieur?" his voice came briskly. + +"How often do you see your friend, Jean Ferret, the gardener of +Quesnay?" + +"Frequently, monsieur. To-morrow morning I could easily carry a message +if--" + +"That is precisely what I do not wish. And you may as well not mention +me at all when you meet him." + +"It is understood. Perfectly." + +"If it is well understood, there will be a beautiful present for a good +maitre d'hotel some day." + +"Thank you, monsieur." + +"Good night, Amedee." + +"Good night, monsieur." + +Falling to sleep has always been an intricate matter with me: I liken +it to a nightly adventure in an enchanted palace. Weary-limbed and with +burning eyelids, after long waiting in the outer court of wakefulness, +I enter a dim, cool antechamber where the heavy garment of the body is +left behind and where, perhaps, some acquaintance or friend greets me +with a familiar speech or a bit of nonsense--or an unseen orchestra may +play music that I know. From here I go into a spacious apartment where +the air and light are of a fine clarity, for it is the hall of +revelations, and in it the secrets of secrets are told, mysteries are +resolved, perplexities cleared up, and sometimes I learn what to do +about a picture that has bothered me. This is where I would linger, for +beyond it I walk among crowding fantasies, delusions, terrors and +shame, to a curtain of darkness where they take my memory from me, and +I know nothing of my own adventures until I am pushed out of a secret +door into the morning sunlight. Amedee was the acquaintance who met me +in the antechamber to-night. He remarked that Madame d'Armand was the +most beautiful woman in the world, and vanished. And in the hall of +revelations I thought that I found a statue of her--but it was veiled. +I wished to remove the veil, but a passing stranger stopped and told me +laughingly that the veil was all that would ever be revealed of her to +me--of her, or any other woman! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +I was up with the birds in the morning; had my breakfast with them--a +very drowsy-eyed Amedee assisting--and made off for the forest to get +the sunrise through the branches, a pack on my back and three +sandwiches for lunch in my pocket. I returned only with the failing +light of evening, cheerfully tired and ready for a fine dinner and an +early bed, both of which the good inn supplied. It was my daily +programme; a healthy life "far from the world," as Amedee said, and I +was sorry when the serpent entered and disturbed it, though he was my +own. He is a pet of mine; has been with me since my childhood. He +leaves me when I live alone, for he loves company, but returns whenever +my kind are about me. There are many names for snakes of his breed, +but, to deal charitably with myself, I call mine +Interest-In-Other-People's-Affairs. + +One evening I returned to find a big van from Dives, the nearest +railway station, drawn up in the courtyard at the foot of the stairs +leading to the gallery, and all of the people of the inn, from Madame +Brossard (who directed) to Glouglou (who madly attempted the heaviest +pieces), busily installing trunks, bags, and packing-cases in the suite +engaged for the "great man of science" on the second floor of the east +wing of the building. Neither the great man nor his companion was to be +seen, however, both having retired to their rooms immediately upon +their arrival--so Amedee informed me, as he wiped his brow after +staggering up the steps under a load of books wrapped in sacking. + +I made my evening ablutions removing a Joseph's coat of dust and paint; +and came forth from my pavilion, hoping that Professor Keredec and his +friend would not mind eating in the same garden with a man in a +corduroy jacket and knickerbockers; but the gentlemen continued +invisible to the public eye, and mine was the only table set for dinner +in the garden. Up-stairs the curtains were carefully drawn across all +the windows of the east wing; little leaks of orange, here and there, +betraying the lights within. Glouglou, bearing a tray of covered +dishes, was just entering the salon of the "Grande Suite," and the door +closed quickly after him. + +"It is to be supposed that Professor Keredec and his friend are +fatigued with their journey from Paris?" I began, a little later. + +"Monsieur, they did not seem fatigued," said Amedee. + +"But they dine in their own rooms to-night." + +"Every night, monsieur. It is the order of Professor Keredec. And with +their own valet-de-chambre to serve them. Eh?" He poured my coffee +solemnly. "That is mysterious, to say the least, isn't it?" + +"To say the very least," I agreed. + +"Monsieur the professor is a man of secrets, it appears," continued +Amedee. "When he wrote to Madame Brossard engaging his rooms, he +instructed her to be careful that none of us should mention even his +name; and to-day when he came, he spoke of his anxiety on that point." + +"But you did mention it." + +"To whom, monsieur?" asked the old fellow blankly. + +"To me." + +"But I told him I had not," said Amedee placidly. "It is the same +thing." + +"I wonder," I began, struck by a sudden thought, "if it will prove +quite the same thing in my own case. I suppose you have not mentioned +the circumstance of my being here to your friend, Jean Ferret of +Quesnay?" + +He looked at me reproachfully. "Has monsieur been troubled by the +people of the chateau?" + +"'Troubled' by them?" + +"Have they come to seek out monsieur and disturb him? Have they done +anything whatever to show that they have heard monsieur is here?" + +"No, certainly they haven't," I was obliged to retract at once. "I beg +your pardon, Amedee." + +"Ah, monsieur!" He made a deprecatory bow (which plunged me still +deeper in shame), struck a match, and offered a light for my cigar with +a forgiving hand. "All the same," he pursued, "it seems very +mysterious--this Keredec affair!" + +"To comprehend a great man, Amedee," I said, "is the next thing to +sharing his greatness." + +He blinked slightly, pondered a moment upon this sententious drivel, +then very properly ignored it, reverting to his puzzle. + +"But is it not incomprehensible that people should eat indoors this +fine weather?" + +I admitted that it was. I knew very well how hot and stuffy the salon +of Madame Brossard's "Grande Suite" must be, while the garden was +fragrant in the warm, dry night, and the outdoor air like a gentle +tonic. Nevertheless, Professor Keredec and his friend preferred the +salon. + +When a man is leading a very quiet and isolated life, it is +inconceivable what trifles will occupy and concentrate his attention. +The smaller the community the more blowzy with gossip you are sure to +find it; and I have little doubt that when Friday learned enough +English, one of the first things Crusoe did was to tell him some +scandal about the goat. Thus, though I treated the "Keredec affair" +with a seeming airiness to Amedee, I cunningly drew the faithful rascal +out, and fed my curiosity upon his own (which, as time went on and the +mystery deepened, seemed likely to burst him), until, virtually, I was +receiving, every evening at dinner, a detailed report of the day's +doings of Professor Keredec and his companion. + +The reports were voluminous, the details few. The two gentlemen, as +Amedee would relate, spent their forenoons over books and writing in +their rooms. Professor Keredec's voice could often be heard in every +part of the inn; at times holding forth with such protracted vehemence +that only one explanation would suffice: the learned man was delivering +a lecture to his companion. + +"Say then!" exclaimed Amedee--"what king of madness is that? To make +orations for only one auditor!" + +He brushed away my suggestion that the auditor might be a stenographer +to whom the professor was dictating chapters for a new book. The +relation between the two men, he contended, was more like that between +teacher and pupil. "But a pupil with gray hair!" he finished, raising +his fat hands to heaven. "For that other monsieur has hair as gray as +mine." + +"That other monsieur" was farther described as a thin man, handsome, +but with a "singular air," nor could my colleague more satisfactorily +define this air, though he made a racking struggle to do so. + +"In what does the peculiarity of his manner lie?" I asked. + +"But it is not so much that his manner is peculiar, monsieur; it is an +air about him that is singular. Truly!" + +"But how is it singular?" + +"Monsieur, it is very, very singular." + +"You do not understand," I insisted. "What kind of singularity has the +air of 'that other monsieur'?" + +"It has," replied Amedee, with a powerful effort, "a very singular +singularity." + +This was as near as he could come, and, fearful of injuring him, I +abandoned that phase of our subject. + +The valet-de-chambre whom my fellow-lodgers had brought with them from +Paris contributed nothing to the inn's knowledge of his masters, I +learned. This struck me not only as odd, but unique, for French +servants tell one another everything, and more--very much more. "But +this is a silent man," said Amedee impressively. "Oh! very silent! He +shakes his head wisely, yet he will not open his mouth. However, that +may be because"--and now the explanation came--"because he was engaged +only last week and knows nothing. Also, he is but temporary; he returns +to Paris soon and Glouglou is to serve them." + +I ascertained that although "that other monsieur" had gray hair, he was +by no means a person of great age; indeed, Glouglou, who had seen him +oftener than any other of the staff, maintained that he was quite +young. Amedee's own opportunities for observation had been limited. +Every afternoon the two gentlemen went for a walk; but they always came +down from the gallery so quickly, he declared, and, leaving the inn by +a rear entrance, plunged so hastily into the nearest by-path leading to +the forest, that he caught little more than glimpses of them. They +returned after an hour or so, entering the inn with the same appearance +of haste to be out of sight, the professor always talking, "with the +manner of an orator, but in English." Nevertheless, Amedee remarked, it +was certain that Professor Keredec's friend was neither an American nor +an Englishman. "Why is it certain?" I asked. + +"Monsieur, he drinks nothing but water, he does not smoke, and Glouglou +says he speaks very pure French." + +"Glouglou is an authority who resolves the difficulty. 'That other +monsieur' is a Frenchman." + +"But, monsieur, he is smooth-shaven." + +"Perhaps he has been a maitre d'hotel." + +"Eh! I wish one that _I_ know could hope to dress as well when he +retires! Besides, Glouglou says that other monsieur eats his soup +silently." + +"I can find no flaw in the deduction," I said, rising to go to bed. "We +must leave it there for to-night." + +The next evening Amedee allowed me to perceive that he was concealing +something under his arm as he stoked the coffee-machine, and upon my +asking what it was, he glanced round the courtyard with histrionic +slyness, placed the object on the table beside my cap, and stepped back +to watch the impression, his manner that of one who declaims: "At last +the missing papers are before you!" + +"What is that?" I said. + +"It is a book." + +"I am persuaded by your candour, Amedee, as well as by the general +appearance of this article," I returned as I picked it up, "that you +are speaking the truth. But why do you bring it to me?" + +"Monsieur," he replied, in the tones of an old conspirator, "this +afternoon the professor and that other monsieur went as usual to walk +in the forest." He bent over me, pretending to be busy with the +coffee-machine, and lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "When they +returned, this book fell from the pocket of that other monsieur's coat +as he ascended the stair, and he did not notice. Later I shall return +it by Glouglou, but I thought it wise that monsieur should see it for +himself." + +The book was Wentworth's Algebra--elementary principles. Painful +recollections of my boyhood and the binomial theorem rose in my mind as +I let the leaves turn under my fingers. "What do you make of it?" I +asked. + +His tone became even more confidential. "Part of it, monsieur, is in +English; that is plain. I have found an English word in it that I +know--the word 'O.' But much of the printing is also in Arabic." + +"Arabic!" I exclaimed. + +"Yes, monsieur, look there." He laid a fat forefinger on "(a + b)2 = a2 ++ 2ab + b2." "That is Arabic. Old Gaston has been to Algeria, and he +says that he knows Arabic as well as he does French. He looked at the +book and told me it was Arabic. Truly! Truly!" + +"Did he translate any of it for you?" + +"No, monsieur; his eyes pained him this afternoon. He says he will read +it to-morrow." + +"But you must return the book to-night." + +"That is true. Eh! It leaves the mystery deeper than ever, unless +monsieur can find some clue in those parts of the book that are +English." + +I shed no light upon him. The book had been Greek to me in my tender +years; it was a pleasure now to leave a fellow-being under the +impression that it was Arabic. + +But the volume took its little revenge upon me, for it increased my +curiosity about Professor Keredec and "that other monsieur." Why were +two grown men--one an eminent psychologist and the other a gray-haired +youth with a singular air--carrying about on their walks a text-book +for the instruction of boys of thirteen or fourteen? + +The next day that curiosity of mine was piqued in earnest. It rained +and I did not leave the inn, but sat under the great archway and took +notes in colour of the shining road, bright drenched fields, and +dripping sky. My back was toward the courtyard, that is, +"three-quarters" to it, and about noon I became distracted from my work +by a strong self-consciousness which came upon me without any visible +or audible cause. Obeying an impulse, I swung round on my camp-stool +and looked up directly at the gallery window of the salon of the +"Grande Suite." + +A man with a great white beard was standing at the window, half hidden +by the curtain, watching me intently. + +He perceived that I saw him and dropped the curtain immediately, a +speck of colour in his buttonhole catching my eye as it fell. + +The spy was Professor Keredec. + +But why should he study me so slyly and yet so obviously? I had no +intention of intruding upon him. Nor was I a psychological "specimen," +though I began to suspect that "that other monsieur" WAS. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +I had been painting in various parts of the forest, studying the early +morning along the eastern fringe and moving deeper in as the day +advanced. For the stillness and warmth of noon I went to the very +woodland heart, and in the late afternoon moved westward to a glade--a +chance arena open to the sky, the scene of my most audacious +endeavours, for here I was trying to paint foliage luminous under those +long shafts of sunshine which grow thinner but ruddier toward sunset. A +path closely bordered by underbrush wound its way to the glade, crossed +it, then wandered away into shady dingles again; and with my easel +pitched in the mouth of this path, I sat at work, one late afternoon, +wonderful for its still loveliness. + +The path debouched abruptly on the glade and was so narrow that when I +leaned back my elbows were in the bushes, and it needed care to keep my +palette from being smirched by the leaves; though there was more room +for my canvas and easel, as I had placed them at arm's length before +me, fairly in the open. I had the ambition to paint a picture here--to +do the whole thing in the woods from day to day, instead of taking +notes for the studio--and was at work upon a very foolish experiment: I +had thought to render the light--broken by the branches and +foliage--with broken brush-work, a short stroke of the kind that stung +an elder painter to swear that its practitioners painted in shaking +fear of the concierge appearing for the studio rent. The attempt was +alluring, but when I rose from my camp-stool and stepped back into the +path to get more distance for my canvas, I saw what a mess I was making +of it. At the same time, my hand, falling into the capacious pocket of +my jacket, encountered a package, my lunch, which I had forgotten to +eat, whereupon, becoming suddenly aware that I was very hungry, I began +to eat Amedee's good sandwiches without moving from where I stood. + +Absorbed, gazing with abysmal disgust at my canvas, I was eating +absent-mindedly--and with all the restraint and dignity of a Georgia +darky attacking a watermelon--when a pleasant voice spoke from just +behind me. + +"Pardon, monsieur; permit me to pass, if you please." + +That was all it said, very quietly and in French, but a gunshot might +have startled me less. + +I turned in confusion to behold a dark-eyed lady, charmingly dressed in +lilac and white, waiting for me to make way so that she could pass. + +Nay, let me leave no detail of my mortification unrecorded: I have just +said that I "turned in confusion"; the truth is that I jumped like a +kangaroo, but with infinitely less grace. And in my nervous haste to +clear her way, meaning only to push the camp-stool out of the path with +my foot, I put too much valour into the push, and with horror saw the +camp-stool rise in the air and drop to the ground again nearly a third +of the distance across the glade. + +Upon that I squeezed myself back into the bushes, my ears singing and +my cheeks burning. + +There are women who will meet or pass a strange man in the woods or +fields with as finished an air of being unaware of him (particularly if +he be a rather shabby painter no longer young) as if the encounter took +place on a city sidewalk; but this woman was not of that priggish kind. +Her straightforward glance recognised my existence as a fellow-being; +and she further acknowledged it by a faint smile, which was of courtesy +only, however, and admitted no reference to the fact that at the first +sound of her voice I had leaped into the air, kicked a camp-stool +twenty feet, and now stood blushing, so shamefully stuffed with +sandwich that I dared not speak. + +"Thank you," she said as she went by; and made me a little bow so +graceful that it almost consoled me for my caperings. + +I stood looking after her as she crossed the clearing and entered the +cool winding of the path on the other side. + +I stared and wished--wished that I could have painted her into my +picture, with the thin, ruddy sunshine flecking her dress; wished that +I had not cut such an idiotic figure. I stared until her filmy summer +hat, which was the last bit of her to disappear, had vanished. Then, +discovering that I still held the horrid remains of a sausage-sandwich +in my hand, I threw it into the underbrush with unnecessary force, and, +recovering my camp-stool, sat down to work again. + +I did not immediately begin. + +The passing of a pretty woman anywhere never comes to be quite of no +moment to a man, and the passing of a pretty woman in the greenwood is +an episode--even to a middle-aged landscape painter. + +"An episode?" quoth I. I should be ashamed to withhold the truth out of +my fear to be taken for a sentimentalist: this woman who had passed was +of great and instant charm; it was as if I had heard a serenade there +in the woods--and at thought of the jig I had danced to it my face +burned again. + +With a sigh of no meaning, I got my eyes down to my canvas and began to +peck at it perfunctorily, when a snapping of twigs underfoot and a +swishing of branches in the thicket warned me of a second intruder, not +approaching by the path, but forcing a way toward it through the +underbrush, and very briskly too, judging by the sounds. + +He burst out into the glade a few paces from me, a tall man in white +flannels, liberally decorated with brambles and clinging shreds of +underbrush. A streamer of vine had caught about his shoulders; there +were leaves on his bare head, and this, together with the youthful +sprightliness of his light figure and the naive activity of his +approach, gave me a very faunlike first impression of him. + +At sight of me he stopped short. + +"Have you seen a lady in a white and lilac dress and with roses in her +hat?" he demanded, omitting all preface and speaking with a quick +eagerness which caused me no wonder--for I had seen the lady. + +What did surprise me, however, was the instantaneous certainty with +which I recognised the speaker from Amedee's description; certainty +founded on the very item which had so dangerously strained the old +fellow's powers. + +My sudden gentleman was strikingly good-looking, his complexion so +clear and boyishly healthy, that, except for his gray hair, he might +have passed for twenty-two or twenty-three, and even as it was I +guessed his years short of thirty; but there are plenty of handsome +young fellows with prematurely gray hair, and, as Amedee said, though +out of the world we were near it. It was the new-comer's "singular air" +which established his identity. Amedee's vagueness had irked me, but +the thing itself--the "singular air"--was not at all vague. Instantly +perceptible, it was an investiture; marked, definite--and intangible. +My interrogator was "that other monsieur." + +In response to his question I asked him another: + +"Were the roses real or artificial?" + +"I don't know," he answered, with what I took to be a whimsical +assumption of gravity. "It wouldn't matter, would it? Have you seen +her?" + +He stooped to brush the brambles from his trousers, sending me a +sidelong glance from his blue eyes, which were brightly confident and +inquiring, like a boy's. At the same time it struck me that whatever +the nature of the singularity investing him it partook of nothing +repellent, but, on the contrary, measurably enhanced his +attractiveness; making him "different" and lending him a distinction +which, without it, he might have lacked. And yet, patent as this +singularity must have been to the dullest, it was something quite apart +from any eccentricity of manner, though, heaven knows, I was soon to +think him odd enough. + +"Isn't your description," I said gravely, thinking to suit my humour to +his own, "somewhat too general? Over yonder a few miles lies Houlgate. +Trouville itself is not so far, and this is the season. A great many +white hats trimmed with roses might come for a stroll in these woods. +If you would complete the items--" and I waved my hand as if inviting +him to continue. + +"I have seen her only once before," he responded promptly, with a +seriousness apparently quite genuine. "That was from my window at an +inn, three days ago. She drove by in an open carriage without looking +up, but I could see that she was very handsome. No--" he broke off +abruptly, but as quickly resumed--"handsome isn't just what I mean. +Lovely, I should say. That is more like her and a better thing to be, +shouldn't you think so?" + +"Probably--yes--I think so," I stammered, in considerable amazement. + +"She went by quickly," he said, as if he were talking in the most +natural and ordinary way in the world, "but I noticed that while she +was in the shade of the inn her hair appeared to be dark, though when +the carriage got into the sunlight again it looked fair." + +I had noticed the same thing when the lady who had passed emerged from +the shadows of the path into the sunshine of the glade, but I did not +speak of it now; partly because he gave me no opportunity, partly +because I was almost too astonished to speak at all, for I was no +longer under the delusion that he had any humourous or whimsical +intention. + +"A little while ago," he went on, "I was up in the branches of a tree +over yonder, and I caught a glimpse of a lady in a light dress and a +white hat and I thought it might be the same. She wore a dress like +that and a white hat with roses when she drove by the inn. I am very +anxious to see her again." + +"You seem to be!" + +"And haven't you seen her? Hasn't she passed this way?" + +He urged the question with the same strange eagerness which had marked +his manner from the first, a manner which confounded me by its absurd +resemblance to that of a boy who had not mixed with other boys and had +never been teased. And yet his expression was intelligent and alert; +nor was there anything abnormal or "queer" in his good-humoured gaze. + +"I think that I may have seen her," I began slowly; "but if you do not +know her I should not advise--" + +I was interrupted by a shout and the sound of a large body plunging in +the thicket. At this the face of "that other monsieur" flushed +slightly; he smiled, but seemed troubled. + +"That is a friend of mine," he said. "I am afraid he will want me to go +back with him." And he raised an answering shout. + +Professor Keredec floundered out through the last row of saplings and +bushes, his beard embellished with a broken twig, his big face red and +perspiring. He was a fine, a mighty man, ponderous of shoulder, +monumental of height, stupendous of girth; there was cloth enough in +the hot-looking black frock-coat he wore for the canopy of a small +pavilion. Half a dozen books were under his arm, and in his hand he +carried a hat which evidently belonged to "that other monsieur," for +his own was on his head. + +One glance of scrutiny and recognition he shot at me from his +silver-rimmed spectacles; and seized the young man by the arm. + +"Ha, my friend!" he exclaimed in a bass voice of astounding power and +depth, "that is one way to study botany: to jump out of the middle of a +high tree and to run like a crazy man!" He spoke with a strong accent +and a thunderous rolling of the "r." "What was I to think?" he +demanded. "What has arrived to you?" + +"I saw a lady I wished to follow," the other answered promptly. + +"A lady! What lady?" + +"The lady who passed the inn three days ago. I spoke of her then, you +remember." + +"Tonnerre de Dieu!" Keredec slapped his thigh with the sudden violence +of a man who remembers that he has forgotten something, and as a final +addition to my amazement, his voice rang more of remorse than of +reproach. "Have I never told you that to follow strange ladies is one +of the things you cannot do?" + +"That other monsieur" shook his head. "No, you have never told me that. +I do not understand it," he said, adding irrelevantly, "I believe this +gentleman knows her. He says he thinks he has seen her." + +"If you please, we must not trouble this gentleman about it," said the +professor hastily. "Put on your hat, in the name of a thousand saints, +and let us go!" + +"But I wish to ask him her name," urged the other, with something +curiously like the obstinacy of a child. "I wish--" + +"No, no!" Keredec took him by the arm. "We must go. We shall be late +for our dinner." + +"But why?" persisted the young man. + +"Not now!" The professor removed his broad felt hat and hurriedly wiped +his vast and steaming brow--a magnificent structure, corniced, at this +moment, with anxiety. "It is better if we do not discuss it now." + +"But I might not meet him again." + +Professor Keredec turned toward me with a half-desperate, +half-apologetic laugh which was like the rumbling of heavy wagons over +a block pavement; and in his flustered face I thought I read a signal +of genuine distress. + +"I do not know the lady," I said with some sharpness. "I have never +seen her until this afternoon." + +Upon this "that other monsieur" astonished me in good earnest. +Searching my eyes eagerly with his clear, inquisitive gaze, he took a +step toward me and said: + +"You are sure you are telling the truth?" + +The professor uttered an exclamation of horror, sprang forward, and +clutched his friend's arm again. "Malheureux!" he cried, and then to +me: "Sir, you will give him pardon if you can? He has no meaning to be +rude." + +"Rude?" The young man's voice showed both astonishment and pain. "Was +that rude? I didn't know. I didn't mean to be rude, God knows! Ah," he +said sadly, "I do nothing but make mistakes. I hope you will forgive +me." + +He lifted his hand as if in appeal, and let it drop to his side; and in +the action, as well as in the tone of his voice and his attitude of +contrition, there was something that reached me suddenly, with the +touch of pathos. + +"Never mind," I said. "I am only sorry that it was the truth." + +"Thank you," he said, and turned humbly to Keredec. + +"Ha, that is better!" shouted the great man, apparently relieved of a +vast weight. "We shall go home now and eat a good dinner. But first--" +his silver-rimmed spectacles twinkled upon me, and he bent his +Brobdingnagian back in a bow which against my will reminded me of the +curtseys performed by Orloff's dancing bears--"first let me speak some +words for myself. My dear sir"--he addressed himself to me with grave +formality--"do not suppose I have no realization that other excuses +should be made to you. Believe me, they shall be. It is now that I see +it is fortunate for us that you are our fellow-innsman at Les Trois +Pigeons." + +I was unable to resist the opportunity, and, affecting considerable +surprise, interrupted him with the apparently guileless query: + +"Why, how did you know that?" + +Professor Keredec's laughter rumbled again, growing deeper and louder +till it reverberated in the woods and a hundred hale old trees laughed +back at him. + +"Ho, ho, ho!" he shouted. "But you shall not take me for a +window-curtain spy! That is a fine reputation I give myself with you! +Ho, ho!" + +Then, followed submissively by "that other monsieur," he strode into +the path and went thundering forth through the forest. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +No doubt the most absurd thing I could have done after the departure of +Professor Keredec and his singular friend would have been to settle +myself before my canvas again with the intention of painting--and that +is what I did. At least, I resumed my camp-stool and went through some +of the motions habitually connected with the act of painting. + +I remember that the first time in my juvenile reading I came upon the +phrase, "seated in a brown study," I pictured my hero in a brown chair, +beside a brown table, in a room hung with brown paper. Later, being +enlightened, I was ambitious to display the figure myself, but the uses +of ordinary correspondence allowed the occasion for it to remain +unoffered. Let me not only seize upon the present opportunity but gild +it, for the adventure of the afternoon left me in a study which was, at +its mildest, a profound purple. + +The confession has been made of my curiosity concerning my +fellow-lodgers at Les Trois Pigeons; however, it had been comparatively +a torpid growth; my meeting with them served to enlarge it so suddenly +and to such proportions that I wonder it did not strangle me. In fine, +I sat there brush-paddling my failure like an automaton, and saying +over and over aloud, "What is wrong with him? What is wrong with him?" + +This was the sillier inasmuch as the word "wrong" (bearing any +significance of a darkened mind) had not the slightest application to +"that other monsieur." There had been neither darkness nor dullness; +his eyes, his expression, his manner, betrayed no hint of wildness; +rather they bespoke a quick and amiable intelligence--the more amazing +that he had shown himself ignorant of things a child of ten would know. +Amedee and his fellows of Les Trois Pigeons had judged wrongly of his +nationality; his face was of the lean, right, American structure; but +they had hit the relation between the two men: Keredec was the master +and "that other monsieur" the scholar--a pupil studying boys' textbooks +and receiving instruction in matters and manners that children are +taught. And yet I could not believe him to be a simple case of arrested +development. For the matter of that, I did not like to think of him as +a "case" at all. There had been something about his bright +youthfulness--perhaps it was his quick contrition for his rudeness, +perhaps it was a certain wistful quality he had, perhaps it was his +very "singularity"--which appealed as directly to my liking as it did +urgently to my sympathy. + +I came out of my vari-coloured study with a start, caused by the +discovery that I had absent-mindedly squeezed upon my palette the +entire contents of an expensive tube of cobalt violet, for which I had +no present use; and sighing (for, of necessity, I am an economical +man), I postponed both of my problems till another day, determined to +efface the one with a palette knife and a rag soaked in turpentine, and +to defer the other until I should know more of my fellow-lodgers at +Madame Brossard's. + +The turpentine rag at least proved effective; I scoured away the last +tokens of my failure with it, wishing that life were like the canvas +and that men had knowledge of the right celestial turpentine. After +that I cleaned my brushes, packed and shouldered my kit, and, with a +final imprecation upon all sausage-sandwiches, took up my way once more +to Les Trois Pigeons. + +Presently I came upon an intersecting path where, on my previous +excursions, I had always borne to the right; but this evening, thinking +to discover a shorter cut, I went straight ahead. Striding along at a +good gait and chanting sonorously, "On Linden when the sun was low," I +left the rougher boscages of the forest behind me and emerged, just at +sunset, upon an orderly fringe of woodland where the ground was neat +and unencumbered, and the trimmed trees stood at polite distances, +bowing slightly to one another with small, well-bred rustlings. + +The light was somewhere between gold and pink when I came into this +lady's boudoir of a grove. "Isar flowing rapidly" ceased its tumult +abruptly, and Linden saw no sterner sight that evening: my voice and my +feet stopped simultaneously--for I stood upon Quesnay ground. + +Before me stretched a short broad avenue of turf, leading to the +chateau gates. These stood open, a gravelled driveway climbing thence +by easy stages between kempt shrubberies to the crest of the hill, +where the gray roof and red chimney-pots of the chateau were glimpsed +among the tree-tops. The slope was terraced with strips of +flower-gardens and intervals of sward; and against the green of a +rising lawn I marked the figure of a woman, pausing to bend over some +flowering bush. The figure was too slender to be mistaken for that of +the present chatelaine of Quesnay: in Miss Elizabeth's regal amplitude +there was never any hint of fragility. The lady upon the slope, then, I +concluded, must be Madame d'Armand, the inspiration of Amedee's +"Monsieur has much to live for!" + +Once more this day I indorsed that worthy man's opinion, for, though I +was too far distant to see clearly, I knew that roses trimmed Madame +d'Armand's white hat, and that she had passed me, no long time since, +in the forest. + +I took off my cap. + +"I have the honour to salute you," I said aloud. "I make my apologies +for misbehaving with sandwiches and camp-stools in your presence, +Madame d'Armand." + +Something in my own pronunciation of her name struck me as reminiscent: +save for the prefix, it had sounded like "Harman," as a Frenchman might +pronounce it. + +Foreign names involve the French in terrible difficulties. Hughes, an +English friend of mine, has lived in France some five-and-thirty years +without reconciling himself to being known as "Monsieur Ig." + +"Armand" might easily be Jean Ferret's translation of "Harman." Had he +and Amedee in their admiration conferred the prefix because they +considered it a plausible accompaniment to the lady's gentle bearing? +It was not impossible; it was, I concluded, very probable. + +I had come far out of my way, so I retraced my steps to the +intersection of the paths, and thence made for the inn by my accustomed +route. The light failed under the roofing of foliage long before I was +free of the woods, and I emerged upon the road to Les Trois Pigeons +when twilight had turned to dusk. + +Not far along the road from where I came into it, stood an old, brown, +deep-thatched cottage--a branch of brushwood over the door prettily +beckoning travellers to the knowledge that cider was here for the +thirsty; and as I drew near I perceived that one availed himself of the +invitation. A group stood about the open door, the lamp-light from +within disclosing the head of the house filling a cup for the wayfarer; +while honest Mere Baudry and two generations of younger Baudrys +clustered to miss no word of the interchange of courtesies between Pere +Baudry and his chance patron. + +It afforded me some surprise to observe that the latter was a most +mundane and elaborate wayfarer, indeed; a small young man very lightly +made, like a jockey, and point-device in khaki, puttees, pongee cap, +white-and-green stock, a knapsack on his back, and a bamboo stick under +his arm; altogether equipped to such a high point of pedestrianism that +a cynical person might have been reminded of loud calls for wine at +some hostelry in the land of opera bouffe. He was speaking fluently, +though with a detestable accent, in a rough-and-ready, pick-up dialect +of Parisian slang, evidently under the pleasant delusion that he +employed the French language, while Pere Baudry contributed his share +of the conversation in a slow patois. As both men spoke at the same +time and neither understood two consecutive words the other said, it +struck me that the dialogue might prove unproductive of any highly +important results this side of Michaelmas; therefore, discovering that +the very pedestrian gentleman was making some sort of inquiry +concerning Les Trois Pigeons, I came to a halt and proffered aid. + +"Are you looking for Madame Brossard's?" I asked in English. + +The traveller uttered an exclamation and faced about with a jump, +birdlike for quickness. He did not reply to my question with the same +promptness; however, his deliberation denoted scrutiny, not sloth. He +stood peering at me sharply until I repeated it. Even then he +protracted his examination of me, a favour I was unable to return with +any interest, owing to the circumstance of his back being toward the +light. Nevertheless, I got a clear enough impression of his alert, +well-poised little figure, and of a hatchety little face, and a pair of +shrewd little eyes, which (I thought) held a fine little conceit of his +whole little person. It was a type of fellow-countryman not altogether +unknown about certain "American Bars" of Paris, and usually connected +(more or less directly) with what is known to the people of France as +"le Sport." + +"Say," he responded in a voice of unpleasant nasality, finally deciding +upon speech, "you're 'Nummeric'n, ain't you?" + +"Yes," I returned. "I thought I heard you inquiring for--" + +"Well, m' friend, you can sting me!" he interrupted with condescending +jocularity. "My style French does f'r them camels up in Paris all +right. ME at Nice, Monte Carlo, Chantilly--bow to the p'fess'r; he's +RIGHT! But down here I don't seem to be GUD enough f'r these +sheep-dogs; anyway they bark different. I'm lukkin' fer a hotel called +Les Trois Pigeons." + +"I am going there," I said; "I will show you the way." + +"Whur is't?" he asked, not moving. + +I pointed to the lights of the inn, flickering across the fields. +"Yonder--beyond the second turn of the road," I said, and, as he showed +no signs of accompanying me, I added, "I am rather late." + +"Oh, I ain't goin' there t'night. It's too dark t' see anything now," +he remarked, to my astonishment. "Dives and the choo-choo back t' +little ole Trouville f'r mine! I on'y wanted to take a LUK at this +pigeon-house joint." + +"Do you mind my inquiring," I said, "what you expected to see at Les +Trois Pigeons?" + +"Why!" he exclaimed, as if astonished at the question, "I'm a tourist. +Makin' a pedestrun trip t' all the reg'ler sights." And, inspired to +eloquence, he added, as an afterthought: "As it were." + +"A tourist?" I echoed, with perfect incredulity. + +"That's whut I am, m' friend," he returned firmly. "You don't have to +have a red dope-book in one hand and a thoid-class choo-choo ticket in +the other to be a tourist, do you?" + +"But if you will pardon me," I said, "where did you get the notion that +Les Trois Pigeons is one of the regular sights?" + +"Ain't it in all the books?" + +"I don't think that it is mentioned in any of the guide-books." + +"NO! I didn't say it WAS, m' friend," he retorted with contemptuous +pity. "I mean them history-books. It's in all o' THEM!" + +"This is strange news," said I. "I should be very much interested to +read them!" + +"Lookahere," he said, taking a step nearer me; "in oinest now, on your +woid: Didn' more'n half them Jeanne d'Arc tamales live at that hotel +wunst?" + +"Nobody of historical importance--or any other kind of importance, so +far as I know--ever lived there," I informed him. "The older portions +of the inn once belonged to an ancient farm-house, that is all." + +"On the level," he demanded, "didn't that William the Conker nor NONE +o' them ancient gilt-edges live there?" + +"No." + +"Stung again!" He broke into a sudden loud cackle of laughter. "Why! +the feller tole me 'at this here Pigeon place was all three rings when +it come t' history. Yessir! Tall, thin feller he was, in a three-button +cutaway, English make, and kind of red-complected, with a sandy +MUS-tache," pursued the pedestrian, apparently fearing his narrative +might lack colour. "I met him right comin' out o' the Casino at +Trouville, yes'day aft'noon; c'udn' a' b'en more'n four o'clock--hol' +on though, yes 'twas, 'twas nearer five, about twunty minutes t' five, +say--an' this feller tells me--" He cackled with laughter as palpably +disingenuous as the corroborative details he thought necessary to +muster, then he became serious, as if marvelling at his own wondrous +verdancy. "M' friend, that feller soitn'y found me easy. But he can't +say I ain't game; he passes me the limes, but I'm jest man enough to +drink his health fer it in this sweet, sound ole-fashioned cider 'at +ain't got a headache in a barrel of it. He played me GUD, and here's TO +him!" + +Despite the heartiness of the sentiment, my honest tourist's enthusiasm +seemed largely histrionic, and his quaffing of the beaker too +reminiscent of drain-the-wine-cup-free in the second row of the chorus, +for he absently allowed it to dangle from his hand before raising it to +his lips. However, not all of its contents was spilled, and he +swallowed a mouthful of the sweet, sound, old-fashioned cider--but by +mistake, I was led to suppose, from the expression of displeasure which +became so deeply marked upon his countenance as to be noticeable, even +in the feeble lamplight. + +I tarried no longer, but bidding this good youth and the generations of +Baudry good-night, hastened on to my belated dinner. + +"Amedee," I said, when my cigar was lighted and the usual hour of +consultation had arrived; "isn't that old lock on the chest where +Madame Brossard keeps her silver getting rather rusty?" + +"Monsieur, we have no thieves here. We are out of the world." + +"Yes, but Trouville is not so far away." + +"Truly." + +"Many strange people go to Trouville: grand-dukes, millionaires, opera +singers, princes, jockeys, gamblers--" + +"Truly, truly!" + +"And tourists," I finished. + +"That is well known," assented Amedee, nodding. + +"It follows," I continued with the impressiveness of all logicians, +"that many strange people may come from Trouville. In their excursions +to the surrounding points of interest--" + +"Eh, monsieur, but that is true!" he interrupted, laying his right +forefinger across the bridge of his nose, which was his gesture when he +remembered anything suddenly. "There was a strange monsieur from +Trouville here this very day." + +"What kind of person was he?" + +"A foreigner, but I could not tell from what country." + +"What time of day was he here?" I asked, with growing interest. + +"Toward the middle of the afternoon. I was alone, except for Glouglou, +when he came. He wished to see the whole house and I showed him what I +could, except of course monsieur's pavilion, and the Grande Suite. +Monsieur the Professor and that other monsieur had gone to the forest, +but I did not feel at liberty to exhibit their rooms without Madame +Brossard's permission, and she was spending the day at Dives. Besides," +added the good man, languidly snapping a napkin at a moth near one of +the candles, "the doors were locked." + +"This person was a tourist?" I asked, after a pause during which Amedee +seemed peacefully unaware of the rather concentrated gaze I had fixed +upon him. "Of a kind. In speaking he employed many peculiar +expressions, more like a thief of a Parisian cabman than of the polite +world." + +"The devil he did!" said I. "Did he tell you why he wished to see the +whole house? Did he contemplate taking rooms here?" + +"No, monsieur, it appears that his interest was historical. At first I +should not have taken him for a man of learning, yet he gave me a great +piece of information; a thing quite new to me, though I have lived here +so many years. We are distinguished in history, it seems, and at one +time both William the Conqueror and that brave Jeanne d'Arc--" + +I interrupted sharply, dropping my cigar and leaning across the table: + +"How was this person dressed?" + +"Monsieur, he was very much the pedestrian." + +And so, for that evening, we had something to talk about besides "that +other monsieur"; indeed, we found our subject so absorbing that I +forgot to ask Amedee whether it was he or Jean Ferret who had prefixed +the "de" to "Armand." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The cat that fell from the top of the Washington monument, and +scampered off unhurt was killed by a dog at the next corner. Thus a +certain painter-man, winged with canvases and easel, might have been +seen to depart hurriedly from a poppy-sprinkled field, an infuriated +Norman stallion in close attendance, and to fly safely over a stone +wall of good height, only to turn his ankle upon an unconsidered +pebble, some ten paces farther on; the nose of the stallion projected +over the wall, snorting joy thereat. The ankle was one which had turned +aforetime; it was an old weakness: moreover, it was mine. I was the +painter-man. + +I could count on little less than a week of idleness within the +confines of Les Trois Pigeons; and reclining among cushions in a wicker +long-chair looking out from my pavilion upon the drowsy garden on a hot +noontide, I did not much care. It was cooler indoors, comfortable +enough; the open door framed the courtyard where pigeons were strutting +on the gravel walks between flower-beds. Beyond, and thrown deeper into +the perspective by the outer frame of the great archway, road and +fields and forest fringes were revealed, lying tremulously in the hot +sunshine. The foreground gained a human (though not lively) interest +from the ample figure of our maitre d'hotel reposing in a rustic chair +which had enjoyed the shade of an arbour about an hour earlier, when +first occupied, but now stood in the broiling sun. At times Amedee's +upper eyelids lifted as much as the sixteenth of an inch, and he made a +hazy gesture as if to wave the sun away, or, when the table-cloth upon +his left arm slid slowly earthward, he adjusted it with a petulant +jerk, without material interruption to his siesta. Meanwhile Glouglou, +rolling and smoking cigarettes in the shade of a clump of lilac, +watched with button eyes the noddings of his superior, and, at the cost +of some convulsive writhings, constrained himself to silent laughter. + +A heavy step crunched the gravel and I heard my name pronounced in a +deep inquiring rumble--the voice of Professor Keredec, no less. Nor was +I greatly surprised, since our meeting in the forest had led me to +expect some advances on his part toward friendliness, or, at least, in +the direction of a better acquaintance. However, I withheld my reply +for a moment to make sure I had heard aright. + +The name was repeated. + +"Here I am," I called, "in the pavilion, if you wish to see me." + +"Aha! I hear you become an invalid, my dear sir." With that the +professor's great bulk loomed in the doorway against the glare outside. +"I have come to condole with you, if you allow it." + +"To smoke with me, too, I hope," I said, not a little pleased. + +"That I will do," he returned, and came in slowly, walking with +perceptible lameness. "The sympathy I offer is genuine: it is not only +from the heart, it is from the latissimus dorsi" he continued, seating +himself with a cavernous groan. "I am your confrere in illness, my dear +sir. I have choosed this fine weather for rheumatism of the back." + +"I hope it is not painful." + +"Ha, it is so-so," he rumbled, removing his spectacles and wiping his +eyes, dazzled by the sun. "There is more of me than of most men--more +to suffer. Nature was generous to the little germs when she made this +big Keredec; she offered them room for their campaigns of war." + +"You'll take a cigarette?" + +"I thank you; if you do not mind, I smoke my pipe." + +He took from his pocket a worn leather case, which he opened, +disclosing a small, browned clay bowl of the kind workmen use; and, +fitting it with a red stem, he filled it with a dark and sinister +tobacco from a pouch. "Always my pipe for me," he said, and applied a +match, inhaling the smoke as other men inhale the light smoke of +cigarettes. "Ha, it is good! It is wicked for the insides, but it is +good for the soul." And clouds wreathed his great beard like a storm on +Mont Blanc as he concluded, with gusto, "It is my first pipe since +yesterday." + +"That is being a good smoker," I ventured sententiously; "to whet +indulgence with abstinence." + +"My dear sir," he protested, "I am a man without even enough virtue to +be an epicure. When I am alone I am a chimney with no hebdomadary +repose; I smoke forever. It is on account of my young friend I am +temperate now." + +"He has never smoked, your young friend?" I asked, glancing at my +visitor rather curiously, I fear. + +"Mr. Saffren has no vices." Professor Keredec replaced his +silver-rimmed spectacles and turned them upon me with serene +benevolence. "He is in good condition, all pure, like little +children--and so if I smoke near him he chokes and has water at the +eyes, though he does not complain. Just now I take a vacation: it is +his hour for study, but I think he looks more out of the front window +than at his book. He looks very much from the window"--there was a +muttering of subterranean thunder somewhere, which I was able to locate +in the professor's torso, and took to be his expression of a +chuckle--"yes, very much, since the passing of that charming lady some +days ago." + +"You say your young friend's name is Saffren?" + +"Oliver Saffren." The benevolent gaze continued to rest upon me, but a +shadow like a faint anxiety darkened the Homeric brow, and an odd +notion entered my mind (without any good reason) that Professor Keredec +was wondering what I thought of the name. I uttered some commonplace +syllable of no moment, and there ensued a pause during which the +seeming shadow upon my visitor's forehead became a reality, deepening +to a look of perplexity and trouble. Finally he said abruptly: "It is +about him that I have come to talk to you." + +"I shall be very glad," I murmured, but he brushed the callow formality +aside with a gesture of remonstrance. + +"Ha, my dear sir," he cried; "but you are a man of feeling! We are both +old enough to deal with more than just these little words of the mouth! +It was the way you have received my poor young gentleman's excuses when +he was so rude, which make me wish to talk with you on such a subject; +it is why I would not have you believe Mr. Saffren and me two very +suspected individuals who hide here like two bad criminals!" + +"No, no," I protested hastily. "The name of Professor Keredec--" + +"The name of NO man," he thundered, interrupting, "can protect his +reputation when he is caught peeping from a curtain! Ha, my dear sir! I +know what you think. You think, 'He is a nice fine man, that old +professor, oh, very nice--only he hides behind the curtains sometimes! +Very fine man, oh, yes; only he is a spy.' Eh? Ha, ha! That is what you +have been thinking, my dear sir!" + +"Not at all," I laughed; "I thought you might fear that _I_ was a spy." + +"Eh?" He became sharply serious upon the instant. "What made you think +that?" + +"I supposed you might be conducting some experiments, or perhaps +writing a book which you wished to keep from the public for a time, and +that possibly you might imagine that I was a reporter." + +"So! And THAT is all," he returned, with evident relief. "No, my dear +sir, I was the spy; it is the truth; and I was spying upon you. I +confess my shame. I wish very much to know what you were like, what +kind of a man you are. And so," he concluded with an opening of the +hands, palms upward, as if to show that nothing remained for +concealment, "and so I have watched you." + +"Why?" I asked. + +"The explanation is so simple: it was necessary." + +"Because of--of Mr. Saffren?" I said slowly, and with some trepidation. + +"Precisely." The professor exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Because I am +sensitive for him, and because in a certain way I am--how should it be +said?--perhaps it is near the truth to say, I am his guardian." + +"I see." + +"Forgive me," he rejoined quickly, "but I am afraid you do not see. I +am not his guardian by the law." + +"I had not supposed that you were," I said. + +"Why not?" + +"Because, though he puzzled me and I do not understand his case--his +case, so to speak, I have not for a moment thought him insane." + +"Ha, my dear sir, you are right!" exclaimed Keredec, beaming on me, +much pleased. "You are a thousand times right; he is as sane as +yourself or myself or as anybody in the whole wide world! Ha! he is now +much MORE sane, for his mind is not yet confused and becobwebbed with +the useless things you and I put into ours. It is open and clear like +the little children's mind. And it is a good mind! It is only a little +learning, a little experience, that he lacks. A few months more--ha, at +the greatest, a year from now--and he will not be different any longer; +he will be like the rest of us. Only"--the professor leaned forward and +his big fist came down on the arm of his chair--"he shall be better +than the rest of us! But if strange people were to see him now," he +continued, leaning back and dropping his voice to a more confidential +tone, "it would not do. This poor world is full of fools; there are so +many who judge quickly. If they should see him now, they might think he +is not just right in his brain; and then, as it could happen so easily, +those same people might meet him again after a while. 'Ha,' they would +say, 'there was a time when that young man was insane. I knew him!' And +so he might go through his life with those clouds over him. Those +clouds are black clouds, they can make more harm than our old sins, and +I wish to save my friend from them. So I have brought him here to this +quiet place where nobody comes, and we can keep from meeting any +foolish people. But, my dear sir"--he leaned forward again, and spoke +emphatically--"it would be barbarous for men of intelligence to live in +the same house and go always hiding from one another! Let us dine +together this evening, if you will, and not only this evening but every +evening you are willing to share with us and do not wish to be alone. +It will be good for us. We are three men like hermits, far out of the +world, but--a thousand saints!--let us be civilised to one another!" + +"With all my heart," I said. + +"Ha! I wish you to know my young man," Keredec went on. "You will like +him--no man of feeling could keep himself from liking him--and he is +your fellow-countryman. I hope you will be his friend. He should make +friends, for he needs them." + +"I think he has a host of them," said I, "in Professor Keredec." + +My visitor looked at me quizzically for a moment, shook his head and +sighed. "That is only one small man in a big body, that Professor +Keredec. And yet," he went on sadly, "it is all the friends that poor +boy has in this world. You will dine with us to-night?" + +Acquiescing cheerfully, I added: "You will join me at the table on my +veranda, won't you? I can hobble that far but not much farther." + +Before answering he cast a sidelong glance at the arrangement of things +outside the door. The screen of honeysuckle ran partly across the front +of the little porch, about half of which it concealed from the garden +and consequently from the road beyond the archway. I saw that he took +note of this before he pointed to that corner of the veranda most +closely screened by the vines and said: + +"May the table be placed yonder?" + +"Certainly; I often have it there, even when I am alone." + +"Ha, that is good," he exclaimed. "It is not human for a Frenchman to +eat in the house in good weather." + +"It is a pity," I said, "that I should have been such a bugbear." + +This remark was thoroughly disingenuous, for, although I did not doubt +that anything he told me was perfectly true, nor that he had made as +complete a revelation as he thought consistent with his duty toward the +young man in his charge, I did not believe that his former precautions +were altogether due to my presence at the inn. + +And I was certain that while he might fear for his friend some chance +repute of insanity, he had greater terrors than that. As to their +nature I had no clew; nor was it my affair to be guessing; but whatever +they were, the days of security at Les Trois Pigeons had somewhat eased +Professor Keredec's mind in regard to them. At least, his anxiety was +sufficiently assuaged to risk dining out of doors with only my screen +of honeysuckle between his charge and curious eyes. So much was evident. + +"The reproach is deserved," he returned, after a pause. "It is to be +wished that all our bugbears might offer as pleasant a revelation, if +we had the courage, or the slyness"--he laughed--"to investigate." + +I made a reply of similar gallantry and he got to his feet, rubbing his +back as he rose. + +"Ha, I am old! old! Rheumatism in warm weather: that is ugly. Now I +must go to my boy and see what he can make of his Gibbon. The poor +fellow! I think he finds the decay of Rome worse than rheumatism in +summer!" + +He replaced his pipe in its case, and promising heartily that it should +not be the last he would smoke in my company and domain, was making +slowly for the door when he paused at a sound from the road. + +We heard the rapid hoof-beats of a mettled horse. He crossed our vision +and the open archway: a high-stepping hackney going well, driven by a +lady in a light trap which was half full of wild flowers. It was a +quick picture, like a flash of the cinematograph, but the pose of the +lady as a driver was seen to be of a commanding grace, and though she +was not in white but in light blue, and her plain sailor hat was +certainly not trimmed with roses, I had not the least difficulty in +recognising her. At the same instant there was a hurried clatter of +foot-steps upon the stairway leading from the gallery; the startled +pigeons fluttered up from the garden-path, betaking themselves to +flight, and "that other monsieur" came leaping across the courtyard, +through the archway and into the road. + +"Glouglou! Look quickly!" he called loudly, in French, as he came; "Who +is that lady?" + +Glouglou would have replied, but the words were taken out of his mouth. +Amedee awoke with a frantic start and launched himself at the archway, +carroming from its nearest corner and hurtling onward at a speed which +for once did not diminish in proportion to his progress. + +"That lady, monsieur?" he gasped, checking himself at the young man's +side and gazing after the trap, "that is Madame d'Armand." + +"Madame d'Armand," Saffren repeated the name slowly. "Her name is +Madame d'Armand." + +"Yes, monsieur," said Amedee complacently; "it is an American lady who +has married a French nobleman." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Like most painters, I have supposed the tools of my craft harder to +manipulate than those of others. The use of words, particularly, seemed +readier, handier for the contrivance of effects than pigments. I +thought the language of words less elusive than that of colour, leaving +smaller margin for unintended effects; and, believing in complacent +good faith that words conveyed exact meanings exactly, it was my +innocent conception that almost anything might be so described in words +that all who read must inevitably perceive that thing precisely. If +this were true, there would be little work for the lawyers, who produce +such tortured pages in the struggle to be definite, who swing riches +from one family to another, save men from violent death or send them to +it, and earn fortunes for themselves through the dangerous inadequacies +of words. I have learned how great was my mistake, and now I am wishing +I could shift paper for canvas, that I might paint the young man who +came to interest me so deeply. I wish I might present him here in +colour instead of trusting to this unstable business of words, so wily +and undependable, with their shimmering values, that you cannot turn +your back upon them for two minutes but they will be shouting a hundred +things which they were not meant to tell. + +To make the best of necessity: what I have written of him--my first +impressions--must be taken as the picture, although it be but a +gossamer sketch in the air, instead of definite work with well-ground +pigments to show forth a portrait, to make you see flesh and blood. It +must take the place of something contrived with my own tools to reveal +what the following days revealed him to me, and what it was about him +(evasive of description) which made me so soon, as Keredec wished, his +friend. + +Life among our kin and kind is made pleasanter by our daily platitudes. +Who is more tedious than the man incessantly struggling to avoid the +banal? Nature rules that such a one will produce nothing better than +epigram and paradox, saying old, old things in a new way, or merely +shifting object for subject--and his wife's face, when he shines for a +circle, is worth a glance. With no further apology, I declare that I am +a person who has felt few positive likes or dislikes for people in this +life, and I did deeply like my fellow-lodgers at Les Trois Pigeons. +Liking for both men increased with acquaintance, and for the younger I +came to feel, in addition, a kind of championship, doubtless in some +measure due to what Keredec had told me of him, but more to that +half-humourous sense of protectiveness that we always have for those +young people whose untempered and innocent outlook makes us feel, as we +say, "a thousand years old." + +The afternoon following our first dinner together, the two, in +returning from their walk, came into the pavilion with cheerful +greetings, instead of going to their rooms as usual, and Keredec, +declaring that the open air had "dispersed" his rheumatism, asked if he +might overhaul some of my little canvases and boards. I explained that +they consisted mainly of "notes" for future use, but consented +willingly; whereupon he arranged a number of them as for exhibition and +delivered himself impromptu of the most vehemently instructive lecture +on art I had ever heard. Beginning with the family, the tribe, and the +totem-pole, he was able to demonstrate a theory that art was not only +useful to society but its primary necessity; a curious thought, +probably more attributable to the fact that he was a Frenchman than to +that of his being a scientist. + +"And here," he said in the course of his demonstration, pointing to a +sketch which I had made one morning just after sunrise--"here you can +see real sunshine. One certain day there came those few certain moment' +at the sunrise when the light was like this. Those few moment', where +are they? They have disappeared, gone for eternally. They went"--he +snapped his fingers--"like that. Yet here they are--ha!--forever!" + +"But it doesn't look like sunshine," said Oliver Saffren hesitatingly, +stating a disconcerting but incontrovertible truth; "it only seems to +look like it because--isn't it because it's so much brighter than the +rest of the picture? I doubt if paint CAN look like sunshine." He +turned from the sketch, caught Keredec's gathering frown, and his face +flushed painfully. "Ah!" he cried, "I shouldn't have said it?" + +I interposed to reassure him, exclaiming that it were a godsend indeed, +did all our critics merely speak the plain truth as they see it for +themselves. The professor would not have it so, and cut me off. + +"No, no, no, my dear sir!" he shouted. "You speak with kindness, but +you put some wrong ideas in his head!" + +Saffren's look of trouble deepened. "I don't understand," he murmured. +"I thought you said always to speak the truth just as I see it." "I +have telled you," Keredec declared vehemently, "nothing of the kind!" + +"But only yesterday--" + +"Never!" + +"I understood--" + +"Then you understood only one-half! I say, 'Speak the truth as you see +it, when you speak.' I did not tell you to speak! How much time have +you give' to study sunshine and paint? What do you know about them?" + +"Nothing," answered the other humbly. + +A profound rumbling was heard, and the frown disappeared from Professor +Keredec's brow like the vanishing of the shadow of a little cloud from +the dome of some great benevolent and scientific institute. He dropped +a weighty hand on his young friend's shoulder, and, in high +good-humour, thundered: + +"Then you are a critic! Knowing nothing of sunshine except that it +warms you, and never having touched paint, you are going to tell about +them to a man who spends his life studying them! You look up in the +night and the truth you see is that the moon and stars are crossing the +ocean. You will tell that to the astronomer? Ha! The truth is what the +masters see. When you know what they see, you may speak." + +At dinner the night before, it had struck me that Saffren was a rather +silent young man by habit, and now I thought I began to understand the +reason. I hinted as much, saying, "That would make a quiet world of it." + +"All the better, my dear sir!" The professor turned beamingly upon me +and continued, dropping into a Whistlerian mannerism that he had +sometimes: "You must not blame that great wind of a Keredec for +preaching at other people to listen. It gives the poor man more room +for himself to talk!" + +I found his talk worth hearing. + +I would show you, if I could, our pleasant evenings of lingering, after +coffee, behind the tremulous screen of honeysuckle, with the night very +dark and quiet beyond the warm nimbus of our candle-light, the faces of +my two companions clear-obscure in a mellow shadow like the middle +tones of a Rembrandt, and the professor, good man, talking wonderfully +of everything under the stars and over them,--while Oliver Saffren and +I sat under the spell of the big, kind voice, the young man listening +with the same eagerness which marked him when he spoke. It was an +eagerness to understand, not to interrupt. + +These were our evenings. In the afternoons the two went for their walk +as usual, though now they did not plunge out of sight of the main road +with the noticeable haste which Amedee had described. As time pressed, +I perceived the caution of Keredec visibly slackening. Whatever he had +feared, the obscurity and continued quiet of LES TROIS PIGEONS +reassured him; he felt more and more secure in this sheltered retreat, +"far out of the world," and obviously thought no danger imminent. So +the days went by, uneventful for my new friends,--days of warm idleness +for me. Let them go unnarrated; we pass to the event. + +My ankle had taken its wonted time to recover. I was on my feet again +and into the woods--not traversing, on the way, a certain +poppy-sprinkled field whence a fine Norman stallion snorted ridicule +over a wall. But the fortune of Keredec was to sink as I rose. His +summer rheumatism returned, came to grips with him, laid him low. We +hobbled together for a day or so, then I threw away my stick and he +exchanged his for an improvised crutch. By the time I was fit to run, +he was able to do little better than to creep--might well have taken to +his bed. But as he insisted that his pupil should not forego the daily +long walks and the health of the forest, it came to pass that Saffren +often made me the objective of his rambles. At dinner he usually asked +in what portion of the forest I should be painting late the next +afternoon, and I got in the habit of expecting him to join me toward +sunset. We located each other through a code of yodeling that we +arranged; his part of these vocal gymnastics being very pleasant to +hear, for he had a flexible, rich voice. I shudder to recall how +largely my own performances partook of the grotesque. But in the forest +where were no musical persons (I supposed) to take hurt from whatever +noise I made, I would let go with all the lungs I had; he followed the +horrid sounds to their origin, and we would return to the inn together. + +On these homeward walks I found him a good companion, and that is +something not to be under-valued by a selfish man who lives for himself +and his own little ways and his own little thoughts, and for very +little else,--which is the kind of man (as I have already confessed) +that I was--deserving the pity of all happily or unhappily married +persons. + +Responsive in kind to either a talkative mood or a silent one, always +gentle in manner, and always unobtrusively melancholy, Saffren never +took the initiative, though now and then he asked a question about some +rather simple matter which might be puzzling him. Whatever the answer, +he usually received it in silence, apparently turning the thing over +and over and inside out in his mind. He was almost tremulously +sensitive, yet not vain, for he was neither afraid nor ashamed to +expose his ignorance, his amazing lack of experience. He had a greater +trouble, one that I had not fathomed. Sometimes there came over his +face a look of importunate wistfulness and distressed perplexity, and +he seemed on the point of breaking out with something that he wished to +tell me--or to ask me, for it might have been a question--but he always +kept it back. Keredec's training seldom lost its hold upon him. + +I had gone back to my glade again, and to the thin sunshine, which came +a little earlier, now that we were deep in July; and one afternoon I +sat in the mouth of the path, just where I had played the bounding +harlequin for the benefit of the lovely visitor at Quesnay. It was warm +in the woods and quiet, warm with the heat of July, still with a July +stillness. The leaves had no motion; if there were birds or insects +within hearing they must have been asleep; the quivering flight of a +butterfly in that languid air seemed, by contrast, quite a commotion; a +humming-bird would have made a riot. + +I heard the light snapping of a twig and a swish of branches from the +direction in which I faced; evidently some one was approaching the +glade, though concealed from me for the moment by the winding of the +path. Taking it for Saffren, as a matter of course (for we had arranged +to meet at that time and place), I raised my voice in what I intended +for a merry yodel of greeting. + +I yodeled loud, I yodeled long. Knowing my own deficiencies in this +art, I had adopted the cunning sinner's policy toward sin and made a +joke of it: thus, since my best performance was not unsuggestive of +calamity in the poultry yard, I made it worse. And then and there, when +my mouth was at its widest in the production of these shocking +ulla-hootings, the person approaching came round a turn in the path, +and within full sight of me. To my ultimate, utmost horror, it was +Madame d'Armand. + +I grew so furiously red that it burned me. I had not the courage to +run, though I could have prayed that she might take me for what I +seemed--plainly a lunatic, whooping the lonely peace of the woods into +pandemonium--and turn back. But she kept straight on, must inevitably +reach the glade and cross it, and I calculated wretchedly that at the +rate she was walking, unhurried but not lagging, it would be about +thirty seconds before she passed me. Then suddenly, while I waited in +sizzling shame, a clear voice rang out from a distance in an answering +yodel to mine, and I thanked heaven for its mercies; at least she would +see that my antics had some reason. + +She stopped short, in a half-step, as if a little startled, one arm +raised to push away a thin green branch that crossed the path at +shoulder-height; and her attitude was so charming as she paused, +detained to listen by this other voice with its musical youthfulness, +that for a second I thought crossly of all the young men in the world. + +There was a final call, clear and loud as a bugle, and she turned to +the direction whence it came, so that her back was toward me. Then +Oliver Saffren came running lightly round the turn of the path, near +her and facing her. + +He stopped as short as she had. + +Her hand dropped from the slender branch, and pressed against her side. + +He lifted his hat and spoke to her, and I thought she made some quick +reply in a low voice, though I could not be sure. + +She held that startled attitude a moment longer, then turned and +crossed the glade so hurriedly that it was almost as if she ran away +from him. I had moved aside with my easel and camp-stool, but she +passed close to me as she entered the path again on my side of the +glade. She did not seem to see me, her dark eyes stared widely straight +ahead, her lips were parted, and she looked white and frightened. + +She disappeared very quickly in the windings of the path. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +He came on more slowly, his eyes following her as she vanished, then +turning to me with a rather pitiful apprehension--a look like that I +remember to have seen (some hundreds of years ago) on the face of a +freshman, glancing up from his book to find his doorway ominously +filling with sophomores. + +I stepped out to meet him, indignant upon several counts, most of all +upon his own. I knew there was no offence in his heart, not the +remotest rude intent, but the fact was before me that he had frightened +a woman, had given this very lovely guest of my friends good cause to +hold him a boor, if she did not, indeed, think him (as she probably +thought me) an outright lunatic! I said: + +"You spoke to that lady!" And my voice sounded unexpectedly harsh and +sharp to my own ears, for I had meant to speak quietly. + +"I know--I know. It--it was wrong," he stammered. "I knew I +shouldn't--and I couldn't help it." + +"You expect me to believe that?" + +"It's the truth; I couldn't!" + +I laughed sceptically; and he flinched, but repeated that what he had +said was only the truth. "I don't understand; it was all beyond me," he +added huskily. + +"What was it you said to her?" + +"I spoke her name--'Madame d'Armand.'" + +"You said more than that!" + +"I asked her if she would let me see her again." + +"What else?" + +"Nothing," he answered humbly. "And then she--then for a moment it +seemed--for a moment she didn't seem to be able to speak--" + +"I should think not!" I shouted, and burst out at him with satirical +laughter. He stood patiently enduring it, his lowered eyes following +the aimless movements of his hands, which were twisting and untwisting +his flexible straw hat; and it might have struck me as nearer akin to +tragedy rather than to a thing for laughter: this spectacle of a grown +man so like a schoolboy before the master, shamefaced over a stammered +confession. + +"But she did say something to you, didn't she?" I asked finally, with +the gentleness of a cross-examining lawyer. + +"Yes--after that moment." + +"Well, what was it?" + +"She said, 'Not now!' That was all." + +"I suppose that was all she had breath for! It was just the +inconsequent and meaningless thing a frightened woman WOULD say!" + +"Meaningless?" he repeated, and looked up wonderingly. + +"Did you take it for an appointment?" I roared, quite out of patience, +and losing my temper completely. + +"No, no, no! She said only that, and then--" + +"Then she turned and ran away from you!" + +"Yes," he said, swallowing painfully. + +"That PLEASED you," I stormed, "to frighten a woman in the woods--to +make her feel that she can't walk here in safety! You ENJOY doing +things like that?" + +He looked at me with disconcerting steadiness for a moment, and, +without offering any other response, turned aside, resting his arm +against the trunk of a tree and gazing into the quiet forest. + +I set about packing my traps, grumbling various sarcasms, the last +mutterings of a departed storm, for already I realised that I had taken +out my own mortification upon him, and I was stricken with remorse. And +yet, so contrarily are we made, I continued to be unkind while in my +heart I was asking pardon of him. I tried to make my reproaches +gentler, to lend my voice a hint of friendly humour, but in spite of me +the one sounded gruffer and the other sourer with everything I said. +This was the worse because of the continued silence of the victim: he +did not once answer, nor by the slightest movement alter his attitude +until I had finished--and more than finished. + +"There--and that's all!" I said desperately, when the things were +strapped and I had slung them to my shoulder. "Let's be off, in +heaven's name!" + +At that he turned quickly toward me; it did not lessen my remorse to +see that he had grown very pale. + +"I wouldn't have frightened her for the world," he said, and his voice +and his whole body shook with a strange violence. "I wouldn't have +frightened her to please the angels in heaven!" + +A blunderer whose incantation had brought the spirit up to face me, I +stared at him helplessly, nor could I find words to answer or control +the passion that my imbecile scolding had evoked. Whatever the barriers +Keredec's training had built for his protection, they were down now. + +"You think I told a lie!" he cried. "You think I lied when I said I +couldn't help speaking to her!" + +"No, no," I said earnestly. "I didn't mean--" + +"Words!" he swept the feeble protest away, drowned in a whirling +vehemence. "And what does it matter? You CAN'T understand. When YOU +want to know what to do, you look back into your life and it tells you; +and I look back--AH!" He cried out, uttering a half-choked, incoherent +syllable. "I look back and it's all--BLIND! All these things you CAN do +and CAN'T do--all these infinite little things! You know, and Keredec +knows, and Glouglou knows, and every mortal soul on earth knows--but +_I_ don't know! Your life has taught you, and you know, but I don't +know. I haven't HAD my life. It's gone! All I have is words that +Keredec has said to me, and it's like a man with no eyes, out in the +sunshine hunting for the light. Do you think words can teach you to +resist such impulses as I had when I spoke to Madame d'Armand? Can life +itself teach you to resist them? Perhaps you never had them?" + +"I don't know," I answered honestly. + +"I would burn my hand from my arm and my arm from my body," he went on, +with the same wild intensity, "rather than trouble her or frighten her, +but I couldn't help speaking to her any more than I can help wanting to +see her again--the feeling that I MUST--whatever you say or do, +whatever Keredec says or does, whatever the whole world may say or do. +And I will! It isn't a thing to choose to do, or not to do. I can't +help it any more than I can help being alive!" + +He paused, wiping from his brow a heavy dew not of the heat, but like +that on the forehead of a man in crucial pain. I made nervous haste to +seize the opportunity, and said gently, almost timidly: + +"But if it should distress the lady?" + +"Yes--then I could keep away. But I must know that." + +"I think you might know it by her running away--and by her look," I +said mildly. "Didn't you?" + +"NO!" And his eyes flashed an added emphasis. + +"Well, well," I said, "let's be on our way, or the professor will be +wondering if he is to dine alone." + +Without looking to see if he followed, I struck into the path toward +home. He did follow, obediently enough, not uttering another word so +long as we were in the woods, though I could hear him breathing sharply +as he strode behind me, and knew that he was struggling to regain +control of himself. I set the pace, making it as fast as I could, and +neither of us spoke again until we had come out of the forest and were +upon the main road near the Baudry cottage. Then he said in a steadier +voice: + +"Why should it distress her?" + +"Well, you see," I began, not slackening the pace "there are +formalities--" + +"Ah, I know," he interrupted, with an impatient laugh. "Keredec once +took me to a marionette show--all the little people strung on wires; +they couldn't move any other way. And so you mustn't talk to a woman +until somebody whose name has been spoken to you speaks yours to her! +Do you call that a rule of nature?" + +"My dear boy," I laughed in some desperation, "we must conform to it, +ordinarily, no matter whose rule it is." + +"Do you think Madame d'Armand cares for little forms like that?" he +asked challengingly. + +"She does," I assured him with perfect confidence. "And, for the +hundredth time, you must have seen how you troubled her." + +"No," he returned, with the same curious obstinacy, "I don't believe +it. There was something, but it wasn't trouble. We looked straight at +each other; I saw her eyes plainly, and it was--" he paused and sighed, +a sudden, brilliant smile upon his lips--"it was very--it was very +strange!" + +There was something so glad and different in his look that--like any +other dried-up old blunderer in my place--I felt an instant tendency to +laugh. It was that heathenish possession, the old insanity of the +risibles, which makes a man think it a humourous thing that his friend +should be discovered in love. + +But before I spoke, before I quite smiled outright, I was given the +grace to see myself in the likeness of a leering stranger trespassing +in some cherished inclosure: a garden where the gentlest guests must +always be intruders, and only the owner should come. The best of us +profane it readily, leaving the coarse prints of our heels upon its +paths, mauling and man-handling the fairy blossoms with what pudgy +fingers! Comes the poet, ruthlessly leaping the wall and trumpeting +indecently his view-halloo of the chase, and, after him, the joker, +snickering and hopeful of a kill among the rose-beds; for this has been +their hunting-ground since the world began. These two have made us +miserably ashamed of the divine infinitive, so that we are afraid to +utter the very words "to love," lest some urchin overhear and pursue us +with a sticky forefinger and stickier taunts. It is little to my credit +that I checked the silly impulse to giggle at the eternal marvel, and +went as gently as I could where I should not have gone at all. + +"But if you were wrong," I said, "if it did distress her, and if it +happened that she has already had too much that was distressing in her +life--" + +"You know something about her!" he exclaimed. "You know--" + +"I do not," I interrupted in turn. "I have only a vague guess; I may be +altogether mistaken." + +"What is it that you guess?" he demanded abruptly. "Who made her +suffer?" + +"I think it was her husband," I said, with a lack of discretion for +which I was instantly sorry, fearing with reason that I had added a +final blunder to the long list of the afternoon. "That is," I added, +"if my guess is right." + +He stopped short in the road, detaining me by the arm, the question +coming like a whip-crack: sharp, loud, violent. + +"Is he alive?" + +"I don't know," I answered, beginning to move forward; "and this is +foolish talk--especially on my part!" + +"But I want to know," he persisted, again detaining me. + +"And I DON'T know!" I returned emphatically. "Probably I am entirely +mistaken in thinking that I know anything of her whatever. I ought not +to have spoken, unless I knew what I was talking about, and I'd rather +not say any more until I do know." + +"Very well," he said quickly. "Will you tell me then?" + +"Yes--if you will let it go at that." + +"Thank you," he said, and with an impulse which was but too plainly one +of gratitude, offered me his hand. I took it, and my soul was +disquieted within me, for it was no purpose of mine to set inquiries on +foot in regard to the affairs of "Madame d'Armand." + +It was early dusk, that hour, a little silvered but still clear, when +the edges of things are beginning to grow indefinite, and usually our +sleepy countryside knew no tranquiller time of day; but to-night, as we +approached the inn, there were strange shapes in the roadway and other +tokens that events were stirring there. + +From the courtyard came the sounds of laughter and chattering voices. +Before the entrance stood a couple of open touring-cars; the chauffeurs +engaged in cooling the rear tires with buckets of water brought by a +personage ordinarily known as Glouglou, whose look and manner, as he +performed this office for the leathern dignitaries, so awed me that I +wondered I had ever dared address him with any presumption of intimacy. +The cars were great and opulent, of impressive wheel-base, and +fore-and-aft they were laden intricately with baggage: concave trunks +fitting behind the tonneaus, thin trunks fastened upon the footboards, +green, circular trunks adjusted to the spare tires, all deeply coated +with dust. Here were fineries from Paris, doubtless on their way to +flutter over the gay sands of Trouville, and now wandering but +temporarily from the road; for such splendours were never designed to +dazzle us of Madame Brossard's. + +We were crossing before the machines when one of the drivers saw fit to +crank his engine (if that is the knowing phrase) and the thing shook +out the usual vibrating uproar. It had a devastating effect upon my +companion. He uttered a wild exclamation and sprang sideways into me, +almost upsetting us both. + +"What on earth is the matter?" I asked. "Did you think the car was +starting?" + +He turned toward me a face upon which was imprinted the sheer, blank +terror of a child. It passed in an instant however, and he laughed. + +"I really didn't know. Everything has been so quiet always, out here in +the country--and that horrible racket coming so suddenly--" + +Laughing with him, I took his arm and we turned to enter the archway. +As we did so we almost ran into a tall man who was coming out, +evidently intending to speak to one of the drivers. + +The stranger stepped back with a word of apology, and I took note of +him for a fellow-countryman, and a worldly buck of fashion indeed, +almost as cap-a-pie the automobilist as my mysterious spiller of cider +had been the pedestrian. But this was no game-chicken; on the contrary +(so far as a glance in the dusk of the archway revealed him), much the +picture for framing in a club window of a Sunday morning; a seasoned, +hard-surfaced, knowing creature for whom many a head waiter must have +swept previous claimants from desired tables. He looked forty years so +cannily that I guessed him to be about fifty. + +We were passing him when he uttered an ejaculation of surprise and +stepped forward again, holding out his hand to my companion, and +exclaiming: + +"Where did YOU come from? I'd hardly have known you." + +Oliver seemed unconscious of the proffered hand; he stiffened visibly +and said: + +"I think there must be some mistake." + +"So there is," said the other promptly. "I have been misled by a +resemblance. I beg your pardon." + +He lifted his cap slightly, going on, and we entered the courtyard to +find a cheerful party of nine or ten men and women seated about a +couple of tables. Like the person we had just encountered, they all +exhibited a picturesque elaboration of the costume permitted by their +mode of travel; making effective groupings in their ample draperies of +buff and green and white, with glimpses of a flushed and pretty face or +two among the loosened veilings. Upon the tables were pots of tea, +plates of sandwiches, Madame Brossard's three best silver dishes heaped +with fruit, and some bottles of dry champagne from the cellars of +Rheims. The partakers were making very merry, having with them (as is +inevitable in all such parties, it seems) a fat young man inclined to +humour, who was now upon his feet for the proposal of some prankish +toast. He interrupted himself long enough to glance our way as we +crossed the garden; and it struck me that several pairs of brighter +eyes followed my young companion with interest. He was well worth it, +perhaps all the more because he was so genuinely unconscious of it; and +he ran up the gallery steps and disappeared into his own rooms without +sending even a glance from the corner of his eye in return. + +I went almost as quickly to my pavilion, and, without lighting my lamp, +set about my preparations for dinner. + +The party outside, breaking up presently, could be heard moving toward +the archway with increased noise and laughter, inspired by some +exquisite antic on the part of the fat young man, when a girl's voice +(a very attractive voice) called, "Oh, Cressie, aren't you coming?" and +a man's replied, from near my veranda: "Only stopping to light a cigar." + +A flutter of skirts and a patter of feet betokened that the girl came +running back to join the smoker. "Cressie," I heard her say in an +eager, lowered tone, "who WAS he?" + +"Who was who?" + +"That DEVASTATING creature in white flannels!" + +The man chuckled. "Matinee sort of devastator--what? Monte Cristo hair, +noble profile--" + +"You'd better tell me," she interrupted earnestly--"if you don't want +me to ask the WAITER." + +"But I don't know him." + +"I saw you speak to him." + +"I thought it was a man I met three years ago out in San Francisco, but +I was mistaken. There was a slight resemblance. This fellow might have +been a rather decent younger brother of the man I knew. HE was the--" + +My strong impression was that if the speaker had not been interrupted +at this point he would have said something very unfavourable to the +character of the man he had met in San Francisco; but there came a +series of blasts from the automobile horns and loud calls from others +of the party, who were evidently waiting for these two. + +"Coming!" shouted the man. + +"Wait!" said his companion hurriedly, "Who was the other man, the older +one with the painting things and SUCH a coat?" + +"Never saw him before in my life." + +I caught a last word from the girl as the pair moved away. + +"I'll come back here with a BAND to-morrow night, and serenade the +beautiful one. + +"Perhaps he'd drop me his card out of the window!" + +The horns sounded again; there was a final chorus of laughter, suddenly +ceasing to be heard as the cars swept away, and Les Trois Pigeons was +left to its accustomed quiet. + +"Monsieur is served," said Amedee, looking in at my door, five minutes +later. + +"You have passed a great hour just now, Amedee." + +"It was like the old days, truly!" + +"They are off for Trouville, I suppose." + +"No, monsieur, they are on their way to visit the chateau, and stopped +here only because the run from Paris had made the tires too hot." + +"To visit Quesnay, you mean?" + +"Truly. But monsieur need give himself no uneasiness; I did not mention +to any one that monsieur is here. His name was not spoken. Mademoiselle +Ward returned to the chateau to-day," he added. "She has been in +England." + +"Quesnay will be gay," I said, coming out to the table. Oliver Saffren +was helping the professor down the steps, and Keredec, bent with +suffering, but indomitable, gave me a hearty greeting, and began a +ruthless dissection of Plato with the soup. Oliver, usually, very +quiet, as I have said, seemed a little restless under the discourse +to-night. However, he did not interrupt, sitting patiently until +bedtime, though obviously not listening. When he bade me good night he +gave me a look so clearly in reference to a secret understanding +between us that, meaning to keep only the letter of my promise to him, +I felt about as comfortable as if I had meanly tricked a child. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +I had finished dressing, next morning, and was strapping my things +together for the day's campaign, when I heard a shuffling step upon the +porch, and the door opened gently, without any previous ceremony of +knocking. To my angle of vision what at first appeared to have opened +it was a tray of coffee, rolls, eggs, and a packet of sandwiches, but, +after hesitating somewhat, this apparition advanced farther into the +room, disclosing a pair of supporting hands, followed in due time by +the whole person of a nervously smiling and visibly apprehensive +Amedee. He closed the door behind him by the simple action of backing +against it, took the cloth from his arm, and with a single gesture +spread it neatly upon a small table, then, turning to me, laid the +forefinger of his right hand warningly upon his lips and bowed me a +deferential invitation to occupy the chair beside the table. + +"Well," I said, glaring at him, "what ails you?" + +"I thought monsieur might prefer his breakfast indoors, this morning," +he returned in a low voice. + +"Why should I?" + +The miserable old man said something I did not understand--an +incoherent syllable or two--suddenly covered his mouth with both hands, +and turned away. I heard a catch in his throat; suffocated sounds +issued from his bosom; however, it was nothing more than a momentary +seizure, and, recovering command of himself by a powerful effort, he +faced me with hypocritical servility. + +"Why do you laugh?" I asked indignantly. + +"But I did not laugh," he replied in a husky whisper. "Not at all." + +"You did," I asserted, raising my voice. "It almost killed you!" + +"Monsieur," he begged hoarsely, "HUSH!" + +"What is the matter?" I demanded loudly. "What do you mean by these +abominable croakings? Speak out!" + +"Monsieur--" he gesticulated in a panic, toward the courtyard. +"Mademoiselle Ward is out there." + +"WHAT!" But I did not shout the word. + +"There is always a little window in the rear wall," he breathed in my +ear as I dropped into the chair by the table. "She would not see you +if--" + +I interrupted with all the French rough-and-ready expressions of +dislike at my command, daring to hope that they might give him some +shadowy, far-away idea of what I thought of both himself and his +suggestions, and, notwithstanding the difficulty of expressing strong +feeling in whispers, it seemed to me that, in a measure, I succeeded. +"I am not in the habit of crawling out of ventilators," I added, +subduing a tendency to vehemence. "And probably Mademoiselle Ward has +only come to talk with Madame Brossard." + +"I fear some of those people may have told her you were here," he +ventured insinuatingly. + +"What people?" I asked, drinking my coffee calmly, yet, it must be +confessed, without quite the deliberation I could have wished. + +"Those who stopped yesterday evening on the way to the chateau. They +might have recognised--" + +"Impossible. I knew none of them." + +"But Mademoiselle Ward knows that you are here. Without doubt." + +"Why do you say so?" + +"Because she has inquired for you." + +"So!" I rose at once and went toward the door. "Why didn't you tell me +at once?" + +"But surely," he remonstrated, ignoring my question, "monsieur will +make some change of attire?" + +"Change of attire?" I echoed. + +"Eh, the poor old coat all hunched at the shoulders and spotted with +paint!" + +"Why shouldn't it be?" I hissed, thoroughly irritated. "Do you take me +for a racing marquis?" + +"But monsieur has a coat much more as a coat ought to be. And Jean +Ferret says--" + +"Ha, now we're getting at it!" said I. "What does Jean Ferret say?" + +"Perhaps it would be better if I did not repeat--" + +"Out with it! What does Jean Ferret say?" + +"Well, then, Mademoiselle Ward's maid from Paris has told Jean Ferret +that monsieur and Mademoiselle Ward have corresponded for years, and +that--and that--" + +"Go on," I bade him ominously. + +"That monsieur has sent Mademoiselle Ward many expensive jewels, and--" + +"Aha!" said I, at which he paused abruptly, and stood staring at me. +The idea of explaining Miss Elizabeth's collection to him, of getting +anything whatever through that complacent head of his, was so hopeless +that I did not even consider it. There was only one thing to do, and +perhaps I should have done it--I do not know, for he saw the menace +coiling in my eye, and hurriedly retreated. + +"Monsieur!" he gasped, backing away from me, and as his hand, fumbling +behind him, found the latch of the door, he opened it, and scrambled +out by a sort of spiral movement round the casing. When I followed, a +moment later--with my traps on my shoulder and the packet of sandwiches +in my pocket--he was out of sight. + +Miss Elizabeth sat beneath the arbour at the other end of the +courtyard, and beside her stood the trim and glossy bay saddle-horse +that she had ridden from Quesnay, his head outstretched above his +mistress to paddle at the vine leaves with a tremulous upper lip. She +checked his desire with a slight movement of her hand upon the +bridle-rein; and he arched his neck prettily, pawing the gravel with a +neat forefoot. Miss Elizabeth is one of the few large women I have +known to whom a riding-habit is entirely becoming, and this group of +two--a handsome woman and her handsome horse--has had a charm for all +men ever since horses were tamed and women began to be beautiful. I +thought of my work, of the canvases I meant to cover, but I felt the +charm--and I felt it stirringly. It was a fine, fresh morning, and the +sun just risen. + +An expression in the lady's attitude, and air which I instinctively +construed as histrionic, seemed intended to convey that she had been +kept waiting, yet had waited without reproach; and although she must +have heard me coming, she did not look toward me until I was quite near +and spoke her name. At that she sprang up quickly enough, and stretched +out her hand to me. + +"Run to earth!" she cried, advancing a step to meet me. + +"A pretty poor trophy of the chase," said I, "but proud that you are +its killer." + +To my surprise and mystification, her cheeks and brow flushed rosily; +she was obviously conscious of it, and laughed. + +"Don't be embarrassed," she said. + +"I!" + +"Yes, you, poor man! I suppose I couldn't have more thoroughly +compromised you. Madame Brossard will never believe in your +respectability again." + +"Oh, yes, she will," said I. + +"What? A lodger who has ladies calling upon him at five o'clock in the +morning? But your bundle's on your shoulder," she rattled on, laughing, +"though there's many could be bolder, and perhaps you'll let me walk a +bit of the way with you, if you're for the road." + +"Perhaps I will," said I. She caught up her riding-skirt, fastening it +by a clasp at her side, and we passed out through the archway and went +slowly along the road bordering the forest, her horse following +obediently at half-rein's length. + +"When did you hear that I was at Madame Brossard's?" I asked. + +"Ten minutes after I returned to Quesnay, late yesterday afternoon." + +"Who told you?" + +"Louise." + +I repeated the name questioningly. "You mean Mrs. Larrabee Harman?" + +"Louise Harman," she corrected. "Didn't you know she was staying at +Quesnay?" + +"I guessed it, though Amedee got the name confused." + +"Yes, she's been kind enough to look after the place for us while we +were away. George won't be back for another ten days, and I've been +overseeing an exhibition for him in London. Afterward I did a round of +visits--tiresome enough, but among people it's well to keep in touch +with on George's account." + +"I see," I said, with a grimness which probably escaped her. "But how +did Mrs. Harman know that I was at Les Trois Pigeons?" + +"She met you once in the forest--" + +"Twice," I interrupted. + +"She mentioned only once. Of course she'd often heard both George and +me speak of you." + +"But how did she know it was I and where I was staying?" + +"Oh, that?" Her smile changed to a laugh. "Your maitre d'hotel told +Ferret, a gardener at Quesnay, that you were at the inn." + +"He did!" + +"Oh, but you mustn't be angry with him; he made it quite all right." + +"How did he do that?" I asked, trying to speak calmly, though there was +that in my mind which might have blanched the parchment cheek of a +grand inquisitor. + +"He told Ferret that you were very anxious not to have it known--" + +"You call that making it all right?" + +"For himself, I mean. He asked Ferret not to mention who it was that +told him." + +"The rascal!" I cried. "The treacherous, brazen--" + +"Unfortunate man," said Miss Elizabeth, "don't you see how clear you're +making it that you really meant to hide from us?" + +There seemed to be something in that, and my tirade broke up in +confusion. "Oh, no," I said lamely, "I hoped--I hoped--" + +"Be careful!" + +"No; I hoped to work down here," I blurted. "And I thought if I saw too +much of you--I might not." + +She looked at me with widening eyes. "And I can take my choice," she +cried, "of all the different things you may mean by that! It's either +the most outrageous speech I ever heard--or the most flattering." + +"But I meant simply--" + +"No." She lifted her hand and stopped me. "I'd rather believe that I +have at least the choice--and let it go at that." And as I began to +laugh, she turned to me with a gravity apparently so genuine that for +the moment I was fatuous enough to believe that she had said it +seriously. Ensued a pause of some duration, which, for my part, I found +disturbing. She broke it with a change of subject. + +"You think Louise very lovely to look at, don't you?" + +"Exquisite," I answered. + +"Every one does." + +"I suppose she told you--" and now I felt myself growing red--"that I +behaved like a drunken acrobat when she came upon me in the path." + +"No. Did you?" cried Miss Elizabeth, with a ready credulity which I +thought by no means pretty; indeed, she seemed amused and, to my +surprise (for she is not an unkind woman), rather heartlessly pleased. +"Louise only said she knew it must be you, and that she wished she +could have had a better look at what you were painting." + +"Heaven bless her!" I exclaimed. "Her reticence was angelic." + +"Yes, she has reticence," said my companion, with enough of the same +quality to make me look at her quickly. A thin line had been drawn +across her forehead. + +"You mean she's still reticent with George?" I ventured. + +"Yes," she answered sadly. "Poor George always hopes, of course, in the +silent way of his kind when they suffer from such unfortunate +passions--and he waits." + +"I suppose that former husband of hers recovered?" + +"I believe he's still alive somewhere. Locked up, I hope!" she finished +crisply. + +"She retained his name," I observed. + +"Harman? Yes, she retained it," said my companion rather shortly. + +"At all events, she's rid of him, isn't she?" + +"Oh, she's RID of him!" Her tone implied an enigmatic reservation of +some kind. + +"It's hard," I reflected aloud, "hard to understand her making that +mistake, young as she was. Even in the glimpses of her I've had, it was +easy to see something of what she's like: a fine, rare, high type--" + +"But you didn't know HIM, did you?" Miss Elizabeth asked with some +dryness. + +"No," I answered. "I saw him twice; once at the time of his +accident--that was only a nightmare, his face covered with--" I +shivered. "But I had caught a glimpse of him on the boulevard, and of +all the dreadful--" + +"Oh, but he wasn't always dreadful," she interposed quickly. "He was a +fascinating sort of person, quite charming and good-looking, when she +ran away with him, though he was horribly dissipated even then. He +always had been THAT. Of course she thought she'd be able to straighten +him out--poor girl! She tried, for three years--three years it hurts +one to think of! You see it must have been something very like a 'grand +passion' to hold her through a pain three years long." + +"Or tremendous pride," said I. "Women make an odd world of it for the +rest of us. There was good old George, as true and straight a man as +ever lived--" + +"And she took the other! Yes." George's sister laughed sorrowfully. + +"But George and she have both survived the mistake," I went on with +confidence. "Her tragedy must have taught her some important +differences. Haven't you a notion she'll be tremendously glad to see +him when he comes back from America?" + +"Ah, I do hope so!" she cried. "You see, I'm fearing that he hopes so +too--to the degree of counting on it." + +"You don't count on it yourself?" + +She shook her head. "With any other woman I should." + +"Why not with Mrs. Harman?" + +"Cousin Louise has her ways," said Miss Elizabeth slowly, and, whether +she could not further explain her doubts, or whether she would not, +that was all I got out of her on the subject at the time. I asked one +or two more questions, but my companion merely shook her head again, +alluding vaguely to her cousin's "ways." Then she brightened suddenly, +and inquired when I would have my things sent up to the chateau from +the inn. + +At the risk of a misunderstanding which I felt I could ill afford, I +resisted her kind hospitality, and the outcome of it was that there +should be a kind of armistice, to begin with my dining at the chateau +that evening. Thereupon she mounted to the saddle, a bit of gymnastics +for which she declined my assistance, and looked down upon me from a +great height. + +"Did anybody ever tell you," was her surprising inquiry, "that you are +the queerest man of these times?" + +"No," I answered. "Don't you think you're a queerer woman?" + +"FOOTLE!" she cried scornfully. "Be off to your woods and your +woodscaping!" + +The bay horse departed at a smart gait, not, I was glad to see, a +parkish trot--Miss Elizabeth wisely set limits to her sacrifices to +Mode--and she was far down the road before I had passed the outer +fringe of trees. + +My work was accomplished after a fashion more or less desultory that +day; I had many absent moments, was restless, and walked more than I +painted. Oliver Saffron did not join me in the late afternoon; nor did +the echo of distant yodelling bespeak any effort on his part to find +me. So I gave him up, and returned to the inn earlier than usual. + +While dressing I sent word to Professor Keredec that I should not be +able to join him at dinner that evening; and it is to be recorded that +Glouglou carried the message for me. Amedee did not appear, from which +it may be inferred that our maitre d'hotel was subject to lucid +intervals. Certainly his present shyness indicated an intelligence of +no low order. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +The dining-room at Quesnay is a pretty work of the second of those +three Louises who made so much furniture. It was never a proper setting +for a rusty, out-of-doors painter-man, nor has such a fellow ever found +himself complacently at ease there since the day its first banquet was +spread for a score or so of fine-feathered epigram jinglers, fiddling +Versailles gossip out of a rouge-and-lace Quesnay marquise newly sent +into half-earnest banishment for too much king-hunting. For my part, +however, I should have preferred a chance at making a place for myself +among the wigs and brocades to the Crusoe's Isle of my chair at Miss +Elizabeth's table. + +I learned at an early age to look my vanities in the face; I outfaced +them and they quailed, but persisted, surviving for my discomfort to +this day. Here is the confession: It was not until my arrival at the +chateau that I realised what temerity it involved to dine there in +evening clothes purchased, some four or five or six years previously, +in the economical neighbourhood of the Boulevard St. Michel. Yet the +things fitted me well enough; were clean and not shiny, having been +worn no more than a dozen times, I think; though they might have been +better pressed. + +Looking over the men of the Quesnay party--or perhaps I should signify +a reversal of that and say a glance of theirs at me--revealed the +importance of a particular length of coat-tail, of a certain rich +effect obtained by widely separating the lower points of the waistcoat, +of the display of some imagination in the buttons upon the same +garment, of a doubled-back arrangement of cuffs, and of a specific +design and dimension of tie. Marked uniformity in these matters denoted +their necessity; and clothes differing from the essential so vitally as +did mine must have seemed immodest, little better than no clothes at +all. I doubt if I could have argued in extenuation my lack of +advantages for study, such an excuse being itself the damning +circumstance. Of course eccentricity is permitted, but (as in the Arts) +only to the established. And I recall a painful change of colour which +befell the countenance of a shining young man I met at Ward's house in +Paris: he had used his handkerchief and was absently putting it in his +pocket when he providentially noticed what he was doing and restored it +to his sleeve. + +Miss Elizabeth had the courage to take me under her wing, placing me +upon her left at dinner; but sprightlier calls than mine demanded and +occupied her attention. At my other side sat a magnificently +upholstered lady, who offered a fine shoulder and the rear wall of a +collar of pearls for my observation throughout the evening, as she +leaned forward talking eagerly with a male personage across the table. +This was a prince, ending in "ski": he permitted himself the slight +vagary of wearing a gold bracelet, and perhaps this flavour of romance +drew the lady. Had my good fortune ever granted a second meeting, I +should not have known her. + +Fragments reaching me in my seclusion indicated that the various +conversations up and down the long table were animated; and at times +some topic proved of such high interest as to engage the comment of the +whole company. This was the case when the age of one of the English +king's grandchildren came in question, but a subject which called for +even longer (if less spirited) discourse concerned the shameful lack of +standard on the part of citizens of the United States, or, as it was +put, with no little exasperation, "What is the trouble with America?" +Hereupon brightly gleamed the fat young man whom I had marked for a wit +at Les Trois Pigeons; he pictured with inimitable mimicry a western +senator lately in France. This outcast, it appeared, had worn a slouch +hat at a garden party and had otherwise betrayed his country to the +ridicule of the intelligent. "But really," said the fat young man, +turning plaintiff in conclusion, "imagine what such things make the +English and the French think of US!" And it finally went by consent +that the trouble with America was the vulgarity of our tourists. + +"A dreadful lot!" Miss Elizabeth cheerfully summed up for them all. +"The miseries I undergo with that class of 'prominent Amurricans' who +bring letters to my brother! I remember one awful creature who said, +when I came into the room, 'Well, ma'am, I guess you're the lady of the +house, aren't you?'" + +Miss Elizabeth sparkled through the chorus of laughter, but I +remembered the "awful creature," a genial and wise old man of affairs, +whose daughter's portrait George painted. Miss Elizabeth had missed his +point: the canvasser's phrase had been intended with humour, and even +had it lacked that, it was not without a pretty quaintness. So I +thought, being "left to my own reflections," which may have partaken of +my own special kind of snobbery; at least I regretted the Elizabeth of +the morning garden and the early walk along the fringe of the woods. +For she at my side to-night was another lady. + +The banquet was drawing to a close when she leaned toward me and spoke +in an undertone. As this was the first sign, in so protracted a period, +that I might ever again establish relations with the world of men, it +came upon me like a Friday's footprint, and in the moment of shock I +did not catch what she said. + +"Anne Elliott, yonder, is asking you a question," she repeated, nodding +at a very pretty gal down and across the table from me. Miss Anne +Elliott's attractive voice had previously enabled me to recognise her +as the young woman who had threatened to serenade Les Trois Pigeons. + +"I beg your pardon," I said, addressing her, and at the sound my +obscurity was illuminated, about half of the company turning to look at +me with wide-eyed surprise. (I spoke in an ordinary tone, it may need +to be explained, and there is nothing remarkable about my voice). + +"I hear you're at Les Trois Pigeons," said Miss Elliott. + +"Yes?" + +"WOULD you mind telling us something of the MYSTERIOUS Narcissus?" + +"If you'll be more definite," I returned, in the tone of a question. + +"There couldn't be more than one like THAT," said Miss Elliott, "at +least, not in one neighbourhood, could there? I mean a RECKLESSLY +charming vision with a WHITE tie and WHITE hair and WHITE flannels." + +"Oh," said I, "HE'S not mysterious." + +"But he IS," she returned; "I insist on his being MYSTERIOUS! Rarely, +grandly, STRANGELY mysterious! You WILL let me think so?" This young +lady had a whimsical manner of emphasising words unexpectedly, with a +breathless intensity that approached violence, a habit dangerously +contagious among nervous persons, so that I answered slowly, out of a +fear that I might echo it. + +"It would need a great deal of imagination. He's a young American, very +attractive, very simple--" + +"But he's MAD!" she interrupted. + +"Oh, no!" I said hastily. + +"But he IS! A person told me so in a garden this VERY afternoon," she +went on eagerly; "a person with a rake and EVER so many moles on his +chin. This person told me all about him. His name is Oliver Saffren, +and he's in the charge of a VERY large doctor and quite, QUITE mad!" + +"Jean Ferret, the gardener." I said deliberately, and with venom, "is +fast acquiring notoriety in these parts as an idiot of purest ray, and +he had his information from another whose continuance unhanged is every +hour more miraculous." + +"How RUTHLESS of you," cried Miss Elliott, with exaggerated reproach, +"when I have had such a thrilling happiness all day in believing that +RIOTOUSLY beautiful creature mad! You are wholly positive he isn't?" + +Our dialogue was now all that delayed a general departure from the +table. This, combined with the naive surprise I have mentioned, served +to make us temporarily the centre of attention, and, among the faces +turned toward me, my glance fell unexpectedly upon one I had not seen +since entering the dining-room. Mrs. Harman had been placed at some +distance from me and on the same side of the table, but now she leaned +far back in her chair to look at me, so that I saw her behind the +shoulders of the people between us. She was watching me with an +expression unmistakably of repressed anxiety and excitement, and as our +eyes met, hers shone with a certain agitation, as of some odd +consciousness shared with me. It was so strangely, suddenly a reminder +of the look of secret understanding given me with good night, +twenty-four hours earlier, by the man whose sanity was Miss Elliott's +topic, that, puzzled and almost disconcerted for the moment, I did not +at once reply to the lively young lady's question. + +"You're hesitating!" she cried, clasping her hands. "I believe there's +a DARLING little chance of it, after all! And if it weren't so, why +would he need to be watched over, day AND night, by an ENORMOUS doctor?" + +"This IS romance!" I retorted. "The doctor is Professor Keredec, +illustriously known in this country, but not as a physician, and they +are following some form of scientific research together, I believe. +But, assuming to speak as Mr. Saffren's friend," I added, rising with +the others upon Miss Ward's example, "I'm sure if he could come to know +of your interest, he would much rather play Hamlet for you than let you +find him disappointing." + +"If he could come to know of my interest!" she echoed, glancing down at +herself with mock demureness. "Don't you think he could come to know +something more of me than that?" + +The windows had been thrown open, allowing passage to a veranda. Miss +Elizabeth led the way outdoors with the prince, the rest of us +following at hazard, and in the mild confusion of this withdrawal I +caught a final glimpse of Mrs. Harman, which revealed that she was +still looking at me with the same tensity; but with the movement of +intervening groups I lost her. Miss Elliott pointedly waited for me +until I came round the table, attached me definitely by taking my arm, +accompanying her action with a dazzling smile. "Oh, DO you think you +can manage it?" she whispered rapturously, to which I replied--as +vaguely as I could--that the demands of scientific research upon the +time of its followers were apt to be exorbitant. + +Tables and coffee were waiting on the broad terrace below, with a big +moon rising in the sky. I descended the steps in charge of this pretty +cavalier, allowed her to seat me at the most remote of the tables, and +accepted without unwillingness other gallantries of hers in the matter +of coffee and cigarettes. "And now," she said, "now that I've done so +much for your DEAREST hopes and comfort, look up at the milky moon, and +tell me ALL!" + +"If you can bear it?" + +She leaned an elbow on the marble railing that protected the terrace, +and, shielding her eyes from the moonlight with her hand, affected to +gaze at me dramatically. "Have no distrust," she bade me. "Who and WHAT +is the glorious stranger?" + +Resisting an impulse to chime in with her humour, I gave her so dry and +commonplace an account of my young friend at the inn that I presently +found myself abandoned to solitude again. + +"I don't know where to go," she complained as she rose. "These other +people are MOST painful to a girl of my intelligence, but I cannot +linger by your side; untruth long ago lost its interest for me, and I +prefer to believe Mr. Jean Ferret--if that is the gentleman's name. I'd +join Miss Ward and Cressie Ingle yonder, but Cressie WOULD be +indignant! I shall soothe my hurt with SWEETEST airs. Adieu." + +With that she made me a solemn courtesy and departed, a pretty little +figure, not little in attractiveness, the strong moonlight, tinged with +blue, shimmering over her blond hair and splashing brightly among the +ripples of her silks and laces. She swept across the terrace languidly, +offering an effect of comedy not unfairylike, and, ascending the steps +of the veranda, disappeared into the orange candle-light of a salon. A +moment later some chords were sounded firmly upon a piano in that room, +and a bitter song swam out to me over the laughter and talk of the +people at the other tables. It was to be observed that Miss Anne +Elliott sang very well, though I thought she over-emphasised one line +of the stanza: + +"This world is a world of lies!" + +Perhaps she had poisoned another little arrow for me, too. Impelled by +the fine night, the groups upon the terrace were tending toward a wider +dispersal, drifting over the sloping lawns by threes and couples, and I +was able to identify two figures threading the paths of the garden, +together, some distance below. Judging by the pace they kept, I should +have concluded that Miss Ward and Mr. Cresson Ingle sought the +healthful effects of exercise. However, I could see no good reason for +wishing their conversation less obviously absorbing, though Miss +Elliott's insinuation that Mr. Ingle might deplore intrusion upon the +interview had struck me as too definite to be altogether pleasing. +Still, such matters could not discontent me with my solitude. Eastward, +over the moonlit roof of the forest, I could see the quiet ocean, its +unending lines of foam moving slowly to the long beaches, too far away +to be heard. The reproachful voice of the singer came no more from the +house, but the piano ran on into "La Vie de Boheme," and out of that +into something else, I did not know what, but it seemed to be music; at +least it was musical enough to bring before me some memory of the faces +of pretty girls I had danced with long ago in my dancing days, so that, +what with the music, and the distant sea, and the soft air, so +sparklingly full of moonshine, and the little dancing memories, I was +floated off into a reverie that was like a prelude for the person who +broke it. She came so quietly that I did not hear her until she was +almost beside me and spoke to me. It was the second time that had +happened. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +"Mrs. Harman," I said, as she took the chair vacated by the elfin young +lady, "you see I can manage it! But perhaps I control myself better +when there's no camp-stool to inspire me. You remember my woodland +didoes--I fear?" + +She smiled in a pleasant, comprehending way, but neither directly +replied nor made any return speech whatever; instead, she let her +forearms rest on the broad railing of the marble balustrade, and, +leaning forward, gazed out over the shining and mysterious slopes +below. Somehow it seemed to me that her not answering, and her quiet +action, as well as the thoughtful attitude in which it culminated, +would have been thought "very like her" by any one who knew her well. +"Cousin Louise has her ways," Miss Elizabeth had told me; this was +probably one of them, and I found it singularly attractive. For that +matter, from the day of my first sight of her in the woods I had needed +no prophet to tell me I should like Mrs. Harman's ways. + +"After the quiet you have had here, all this must seem," I said, +looking down upon the strollers, "a usurpation." + +"Oh, they!" She disposed of Quesnay's guests with a slight movement of +her left hand. "You're an old friend of my cousins--of both of them; +but even without that, I know you understand. Elizabeth does it all for +her brother, of course." + +"But she likes it," I said. + +"And Mr. Ward likes it, too," she added slowly. "You'll see, when he +comes home." + +Night's effect upon me being always to make me venturesome, I took a +chance, and ventured perhaps too far. "I hope we'll see many happy +things when he comes home." + +"It's her doing things of this sort," she said, giving no sign of +having heard my remark, "that has helped so much to make him the +success that he is." + +"It's what has been death to his art!" I exclaimed, too quickly--and +would have been glad to recall the speech. + +She met it with a murmur of low laughter that sounded pitying. "Wasn't +it always a dubious relation--between him and art?" And without +awaiting an answer, she went on, "So it's all the better that he can +have his success!" + +To this I had nothing whatever to say. So far as I remembered, I had +never before heard a woman put so much comprehension of a large subject +into so few words, but in my capacity as George's friend, hopeful for +his happiness, it made me a little uneasy. During the ensuing pause +this feeling, at first uppermost, gave way to another not at all in +sequence, but irresponsible and intuitive, that she had something in +particular to say to me, had joined me for that purpose, and was +awaiting the opportunity. As I have made open confession, my curiosity +never needed the spur; and there is no denying that this impression set +it off on the gallop; but evidently the moment had not come for her to +speak. She seemed content to gaze out over the valley in silence. + +"Mr. Cresson Ingle," I hazarded; "is he an old, new friend of your +cousins? I think he was not above the horizon when I went to Capri, two +years ago?" + +"He wants Elizabeth," she returned, adding quietly, "as you've seen." +And when I had verified this assumption with a monosyllable, she +continued, "He's an 'available,' but I should hate to have it happen. +He's hard." + +"He doesn't seem very hard toward her," I murmured, looking down into +the garden where Mr. Ingle just then happened to be adjusting a scarf +about his hostess's shoulders. + +"He's led a detestable life," said Mrs. Harman, "among detestable +people!" + +She spoke with sudden, remarkable vigour, and as if she knew. The +full-throated emphasis she put upon "detestable" gave the word the +sting of a flagellation; it rang with a rightful indignation that +brought vividly to my mind the thought of those three years in Mrs. +Harman's life which Elizabeth said "hurt one to think of." For this was +the lady who had rejected good George Ward to run away with a man much +deeper in all that was detestable than Mr. Cresson Ingle could ever be! + +"He seems to me much of a type with these others," I said. + +"Oh, they keep their surfaces about the same." + +"It made me wish _I_ had a little more surface to-night," I laughed. +"I'd have fitted better. Miss Ward is different at different times. +When we are alone together she always has the air of excusing, or at +least explaining, these people to me, but this evening I've had the +disquieting thought that perhaps she also explained me to them." + +"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Harman, turning to me quickly. "Didn't you see? She +was making up to Mr. Ingle for this morning. It came out that she'd +ridden over at daylight to see you; Anne Elliott discovered it in some +way and told him." + +This presented an aspect of things so overwhelmingly novel that out of +a confusion of ideas I was able to fasten on only one with which to +continue the conversation, and I said irrelevantly that Miss Elliott +was a remarkable young woman. At this my companion, who had renewed her +observation of the valley, gave me a full, clear look of earnest +scrutiny, which set me on the alert, for I thought that now what she +desired to say was coming. But I was disappointed, for she spoke +lightly, with a ripple of amusement. + +"I suppose she finished her investigations? You told her all you could?" + +"Almost." + +"I suppose you wouldn't trust ME with the reservation?" she asked, +smiling. + +"I would trust you with anything," I answered seriously. + +"You didn't gratify that child?" she said, half laughing. Then, to my +surprise, her tone changed suddenly, and she began again in a hurried +low voice: "You didn't tell her--" and stopped there, breathless and +troubled, letting me see that I had been right after all: this was what +she wanted to talk about. + +"I didn't tell her that young Saffren is mad, no; if that is what you +mean." + +"I'm glad you didn't," she said slowly, sinking back in her chair so +that her face was in the shadow of the awning which sheltered the +little table between us. + +"In the first place, I wouldn't have told her even if it were true," I +returned, "and in the second, it isn't true--though YOU have some +reason to think it is," I added. + +"_I_?" she said. "Why?" + +"His speaking to you as he did; a thing on the face of it inexcusable--" + +"Why did he call me 'Madame d'Armand'?" she interposed. + +I explained something of the mental processes of Amedee, and she +listened till I had finished; then bade me continue. + +"That's all," I said blankly, but, with a second thought, caught her +meaning. "Oh, about young Saffren, you mean?" + +"Yes." + +"I know him pretty well," I said, "without really knowing anything +about him; but what is stranger, I believe he doesn't really know a +great deal about himself. Of course I have a theory about him, though +it's vague. My idea is that probably through some great illness he +lost--not his faculty of memory, but his memories, or, at least, most +of them. In regard to what he does remember, Professor Keredec has +anxiously impressed upon him some very poignant necessity for +reticence. What the necessity may be, or the nature of the professor's +anxieties, I do not know, but I think Keredec's reasons must be good +ones. That's all, except that there's something about the young man +that draws one to him: I couldn't tell you how much I like him, nor how +sorry I am that he offended you." + +"He didn't offend me," she murmured--almost whispered. + +"He didn't mean to," I said warmly. "You understood that?" + +"Yes, I understood." + +"I am glad. I'd been waiting the chance to try to explain--to ask you +to pardon him--" + +"But there wasn't any need." + +"You mean because you understood--" + +"No," she interrupted gently, "not only that. I mean because he has +done it himself." + +"Asked your pardon?" I said, in complete surprise. + +"Yes." + +"He's written you?" I cried. + +"No. I saw him to-day," she answered. "This afternoon when I went for +my walk, he was waiting where the paths intersect--" + +Some hasty ejaculation, I do not know what, came from me, but she +lifted her hand. + +"Wait," she said quietly. "As soon as he saw me he came straight toward +me--" + +"Oh, but this won't do at all," I broke out. "It's too bad--" + +"Wait." She leaned forward slightly, lifting her hand again. "He called +me 'Madame d'Armand,' and said he must know if he had offended me." + +"You told him--" + +"I told him 'No!'" And it seemed to me that her voice, which up to this +point had been low but very steady, shook upon the monosyllable. "He +walked with me a little way--perhaps It was longer--" + +"Trust me that it sha'n't happen again!" I exclaimed. "I'll see that +Keredec knows of this at once. He will--" + +"No, no," she interrupted quickly, "that is just what I want you not to +do. Will you promise me?" + +"I'll promise anything you ask me. But didn't he frighten you? Didn't +he talk wildly? Didn't he--" + +"He didn't frighten me--not as you mean. He was very quiet and--" She +broke off unexpectedly, with a little pitying cry, and turned to me, +lifting both hands appealingly--"And oh, doesn't he make one SORRY for +him!" + +That was just it. She had gone straight to the heart of his mystery: +his strangeness was the strange PATHOS that invested him; the +"singularity" of "that other monsieur" was solved for me at last. + +When she had spoken she rose, advanced a step, and stood looking out +over the valley again, her skirts pressing the balustrade. One of the +moments in my life when I have wished to be a figure painter came then, +as she raised her arms, the sleeves, of some filmy texture, falling +back from them with the gesture, and clasped her hands lightly behind +her neck, the graceful angle of her chin uplifted to the full rain of +moonshine. Little Miss Elliott, in the glamour of these same blue +showerings, had borrowed gauzy weavings of the fay and the sprite, but +Mrs. Harman--tall, straight, delicate to fragility, yet not to +thinness--was transfigured with a deeper meaning, wearing the sadder, +richer colours of the tragedy that her cruel young romance had put upon +her. She might have posed as she stood against the marble railing--and +especially in that gesture of lifting her arms--for a bearer of the +gift at some foredestined luckless ceremony of votive offerings. So it +seemed, at least, to the eyes of a moon-dazed old painter-man. + +She stood in profile to me; there were some jasmine flowers at her +breast; I could see them rise and fall with more than deep breathing; +and I wondered what the man who had talked of her so wildly, only +yesterday, would feel if he could know that already the thought of him +had moved her. + +"I haven't HAD my life. It's gone!" It was almost as if I heard his +voice, close at hand, with all the passion of regret and protest that +rang in the words when they broke from him in the forest. And by some +miraculous conjecture, within the moment I seemed not only to hear his +voice but actually to see him, a figure dressed in white, far below us +and small with the distance, standing out in the moonlight in the +middle of the tree-bordered avenue leading to the chateau gates. + +I rose and leaned over the railing. There was no doubt about the +reality of the figure in white, though it was too far away to be +identified with certainty; and as I rubbed my eyes for clearer sight, +it turned and disappeared into the shadows of the orderly grove where I +had stood, one day, to watch Louise Harman ascend the slopes of +Quesnay. But I told myself, sensibly, that more than one man on the +coast of Normandy might be wearing white flannels that evening, and, +turning to my companion, found that she had moved some steps away from +me and was gazing eastward to the sea. I concluded that she had not +seen the figure. + +"I have a request to make of you," she said, as I turned. "Will you do +it for me--setting it down just as a whim, if you like, and letting it +go at that?" + +"Yes, I will," I answered promptly. "I'll do anything you ask." + +She stepped closer, looked at me intently for a second, bit her lip in +indecision, then said, all in a breath: + +"Don't tell Mr. Saffren my name!" + +"But I hadn't meant to," I protested. + +"Don't speak of me to him at all," she said, with the same hurried +eagerness. "Will you let me have my way?" + +"Could there be any question of that?" I replied, and to my +astonishment found that we had somehow impulsively taken each other's +hands, as upon a serious bargain struck between us. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +The round moon was white and at its smallest, high overhead, when I +stepped out of the phaeton in which Miss Elizabeth sent me back to +Madame Brossard's; midnight was twanging from a rusty old clock indoors +as I crossed the fragrant courtyard to my pavilion; but a lamp still +burned in the salon of the "Grande Suite," a light to my mind more +suggestive of the patient watcher than of the scholar at his tome. + +When my own lamp was extinguished, I set my door ajar, moved my bed out +from the wall to catch whatever breeze might stir, "composed myself for +the night," as it used to be written, and lay looking out upon the +quiet garden where a thin white haze was rising. If, in taking this +coign of vantage, I had any subtler purpose than to seek a draught +against the warmth of the night, it did not fail of its reward, for +just as I had begun to drowse, the gallery steps creaked as if beneath +some immoderate weight, and the noble form of Keredec emerged upon my +field of vision. From the absence of the sound of footsteps I supposed +him to be either barefooted or in his stockings. His visible costume +consisted of a sleeping jacket tucked into a pair of trousers, while +his tousled hair and beard and generally tossed and rumpled look were +those of a man who had been lying down temporarily. + +I heard him sigh--like one sighing for sleep--as he went noiselessly +across the garden and out through the archway to the road. At that I +sat straight up in bed to stare--and well I might, for here was a +miracle! He had lifted his arms above his head to stretch himself +comfortably, and he walked upright and at ease, whereas when I had last +seen him, the night before, he had been able to do little more than +crawl, bent far over and leaning painfully upon his friend. Never man +beheld a more astonishing recovery from a bad case of rheumatism! + +After a long look down the road, he retraced his steps; and the +moonlight, striking across his great forehead as he came, revealed the +furrows ploughed there by an anxiety of which I guessed the cause. The +creaking of the wooden stairs and gallery and the whine of an old door +announced that he had returned to his vigil. + +I had, perhaps, a quarter of an hour to consider this performance, when +it was repeated; now, however, he only glanced out into the road, +retreating hastily, and I saw that he was smiling, while the speed he +maintained in returning to his quarters was remarkable for one so newly +convalescent. + +The next moment Saffron came through the archway, ascended the steps in +turn--but slowly and carefully, as if fearful of waking his +guardian--and I heard his door closing, very gently. Long before his +arrival, however, I had been certain of his identity with the figure I +had seen gazing up at the terraces of Quesnay from the borders of the +grove. Other questions remained to bother me: Why had Keredec not +prevented this night-roving, and why, since he did permit it, should he +conceal his knowledge of it from Oliver? And what, oh, what wondrous +specific had the mighty man found for his disease? + +Morning failed to clarify these mysteries; it brought, however, +something rare and rich and strange. I allude to the manner of Amedee's +approach. The aged gossip-demoniac had to recognise the fact that he +could not keep out of my way for ever; there was nothing for it but to +put as good a face as possible upon a bad business, and get it +over--and the face he selected was a marvel; not less, and in no hasty +sense of the word. + +It appeared at my door to announce that breakfast waited outside. + +Primarily it displayed an expression of serenity, masterly in its +assumption that not the least, remotest, dreamiest shadow of danger +could possibly be conceived, by the most immoderately pessimistic and +sinister imagination, as even vaguely threatening. And for the rest, +you have seen a happy young mother teaching first steps to the +first-born--that was Amedee. Radiantly tender, aggressively solicitous, +diffusing ineffable sweetness on the air, wreathed in seraphic smiles, +beaming caressingly, and aglow with a sacred joy that I should be +looking so well, he greeted me in a voice of honey and bowed me to my +repast with an unconcealed fondness at once maternal and reverential. + +I did not attempt to speak. I came out silently, uncannily fascinated, +my eyes fixed upon him, while he moved gently backward, cooing pleasant +words about the coffee, but just perceptibly keeping himself out of +arm's reach until I had taken my seat. When I had done that, he leaned +over the table and began to set useless things nearer my plate with +frankly affectionate care. It chanced that in "making a long arm" to +reach something I did want, my hand (of which the fingers happened to +be closed) passed rather impatiently beneath his nose. The madonna +expression changed instantly to one of horror, he uttered a startled +croak, and took a surprisingly long skip backward, landing in the +screen of honeysuckle vines, which, he seemed to imagine, were some new +form of hostility attacking him treacherously from the rear. They +sagged, but did not break from their fastenings, and his behaviour, as +he lay thus entangled, would have contrasted unfavourably in dignity +with the actions of a panic-stricken hen in a hammock. + +"And so conscience DOES make cowards of us all," I said, with no hope +of being understood. + +Recovering some measure of mental equilibrium at the same time that he +managed to find his feet, he burst into shrill laughter, to which he +tried in vain to impart a ring of debonair carelessness. + +"Eh, I stumble!" he cried with hollow merriment. "I fall about and +faint with fatigue! Pah! But it is nothing: truly!" + +"Fatigue!" I turned a bitter sneer upon him. "Fatigue! And you just out +of bed!" + +His fat hands went up palm outward; his heroic laughter was checked as +with a sob; an expression of tragic incredulity shone from his eyes. +Patently he doubted the evidence of his own ears; could not believe +that such black ingratitude existed in the world. "Absalom, O my son +Absalom!" was his unuttered cry. His hands fell to his sides; his chin +sank wretchedly into its own folds; his shirt-bosom heaved and +crinkled; arrows of unspeakable injustice had entered the defenceless +breast. + +"Just out of bed!" he repeated, with a pathos that would have brought +the judge of any court in France down from the bench to kiss him--"And +I had risen long, long before the dawn, in the cold and darkness of the +night, to prepare the sandwiches of monsieur!" + +It was too much for me, or rather, he was. I stalked off to the woods +in a state of helpless indignation; mentally swearing that his day of +punishment at my hands was only deferred, not abandoned, yet secretly +fearing that this very oath might live for no purpose but to convict me +of perjury. His talents were lost in the country; he should have sought +his fortune in the metropolis. And his manner, as he summoned me that +evening to dinner, and indeed throughout the courses, partook of the +subtle condescension and careless assurance of one who has but faintly +enjoyed some too easy triumph. + +I found this so irksome that I might have been goaded into an outbreak +of impotent fury, had my attention not been distracted by the curious +turn of the professor's malady, which had renewed its painful assault +upon him. He came hobbling to table, leaning upon Saffren's shoulder, +and made no reference to his singular improvement of the night +before--nor did I. His rheumatism was his own; he might do what he +pleased with it! There was no reason why he should confide the cause of +its vagaries to me. + +Table-talk ran its normal course; a great Pole's philosophy receiving +flagellation at the hands of our incorrigible optimist. ("If he could +understand," exclaimed Keredec, "that the individual must be immortal +before it is born, ha! then this babbler might have writted some +intelligence!") On the surface everything was as usual with our trio, +with nothing to show any turbulence of under-currents, unless it was a +certain alertness in Oliver's manner, a restrained excitement, and the +questioning restlessness of his eyes as they sought mine from time to +time. Whatever he wished to ask me, he was given no opportunity, for +the professor carried him off to work when our coffee was finished. As +they departed, the young man glanced back at me over his shoulder, with +that same earnest look of interrogation, but it went unanswered by any +token or gesture: for though I guessed that he wished to know if Mrs. +Harman had spoken of him to me, it seemed part of my bargain with her +to give him no sign that I understood. + +A note lay beside my plate next morning, addressed in a writing strange +to me, one of dashing and vigorous character. + +"In the pursuit of thrillingly scientific research," it read, "what +with the tumult which possessed me, I forgot to mention the bond that +links us; I, too, am a painter, though as yet unhonoured and unhung. It +must be only because I lack a gentle hand to guide me. If I might sit +beside you as you paint! The hours pass on leaden wings at Quesnay--I +could shriek! Do not refuse me a few words of instruction, either in +the wildwood, whither I could support your shrinking steps, or, from +time to time, as you work in your studio, which (I glean from the +instructive Mr. Ferret) is at Les Trois Pigeons. At any hour, at any +moment, I will speed to you. I am, sir, + +"Yours, if you will but breathe a 'yes,' + +"ANNE ELLIOTT." + +To this I returned a reply, as much in her own key as I could write it, +putting my refusal on the ground that I was not at present painting in +the studio. I added that I hoped her suit might prosper, regretting +that I could not be of greater assistance to that end, and concluded +with the suggestion that Madame Brossard might entertain an offer for +lessons in cooking. + +The result of my attempt to echo her vivacity was discomfiting, and I +was allowed to perceive that epistolary jocularity was not thought to +be my line. It was Miss Elizabeth who gave me this instruction three +days later, on the way to Quesnay for "second breakfast." Exercising +fairly shame-faced diplomacy, I had avoided dining at the chateau +again, but, by arrangement, she had driven over for me this morning in +the phaeton. + +"Why are you writing silly notes to that child?" she demanded, as soon +as we were away from the inn. + +"Was it silly?" + +"You should know. Do you think that style of humour suitable for a +young girl?" + +This bewildered me a little. "But there wasn't anything offensive--" + +"No?" Miss Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows to a height of bland inquiry. +"She mightn't think it rather--well, rough? Your suggesting that she +should take cooking lessons?" + +"But SHE suggested she might take PAINTING lessons," was my feeble +protest. "I only meant to show her I understood that she wanted to get +to the inn." + +"And why should she care to 'get to the inn'?" + +"She seemed interested in a young man who is staying there. +'Interested' is the mildest word for it I can think of." + +"Pooh!" Such was Miss Ward's enigmatic retort, and though I begged an +explanation I got none. Instead, she quickened the horse's gait and +changed the subject. + +At the chateau, having a mind to offer some sort of apology, I looked +anxiously about for the subject of our rather disquieting conversation, +but she was not to be seen until the party assembled at the table, set +under an awning on the terrace. Then, to my disappointment, I found no +opportunity to speak to her, for her seat was so placed as to make it +impossible, and she escaped into the house immediately upon the +conclusion of the repast, hurrying away too pointedly for any attempt +to detain her--though, as she passed, she sent me one glance of meek +reproach which she was at pains to make elaborately distinct. + +Again taking me for her neighbour at the table, Miss Elizabeth talked +to me at intervals, apparently having nothing, just then, to make up to +Mr. Cresson Ingle, but not long after we rose she accompanied him upon +some excursion of an indefinite nature, which led her from my sight. +Thus, the others making off to cards indoors and what not, I was left +to the perusal of the eighteenth century facade of the chateau, one of +the most competent restorations in that part of France, and of the +liveliest interest to the student or practitioner of architecture. + +Mrs. Harman had not appeared at all, having gone to call upon some one +at Dives, I was told, and a servant informing me (on inquiry) that Miss +Elliott had retired to her room, I was thrust upon my own devices +indeed, a condition already closely associated in my mind with this +picturesque spot. The likeliest of my devices--or, at least, the one I +hit upon--was in the nature of an unostentatious retreat. + +I went home. + +However, as the day was spoiled for work, I chose a roundabout way, in +fact the longest, and took the high-road to Dives, but neither the road +nor the town itself (when I passed through it) rewarded my vague hope +that I might meet Mrs. Harman, and I strode the long miles in +considerable disgruntlement, for it was largely in that hope that I had +gone to Quesnay. It put me in no merrier mood to find Miss Elizabeth's +phaeton standing outside the inn in charge of a groom, for my vanity +encouraged the supposition that she had come out of a fear that my +unceremonious departure from Quesnay might have indicated that I was +"hurt," or considered myself neglected; and I dreaded having to make +explanations. + +My apprehensions were unfounded; it was not Miss Elizabeth who had come +in the phaeton, though a lady from Quesnay did prove to be the +occupant--the sole occupant--of the courtyard. At sight of her I halted +stock-still under the archway. + +There she sat, a sketch-book on a green table beside her and a board in +her lap, brazenly painting--and a more blushless piece of assurance +than Miss Anne Elliott thus engaged these eyes have never beheld. + +She was not so hardened that she did not affect a little timidity at +sight of me, looking away even more quickly than she looked up, while I +walked slowly over to her and took the garden chair beside her. That +gave me a view of her sketch, which was a violent little "lay-in" of +shrubbery, trees, and the sky-line of the inn. To my prodigious +surprise (and, naturally enough, with a degree of pleasure) I perceived +that it was not very bad, not bad at all, indeed. It displayed a sense +of values, of placing, and even, in a young and frantic way, of colour. +Here was a young woman of more than "accomplishments!" + +"You see," she said, squeezing one of the tiny tubes almost dry, and +continuing to paint with a fine effect of absorption, "I HAD to show +you that I was in the most ABYSMAL earnest. Will you take me painting +with, you?" + +"I appreciate your seriousness," I rejoined. "Has it been rewarded?" + +"How can I say? You haven't told me whether or no I may follow you to +the wildwood." + +"I mean, have you caught another glimpse of Mr. Saffren?" + +At that she showed a prettier colour in her cheeks than any in her +sketch-box, but gave no other sign of shame, nor even of being +flustered, cheerfully replying: + +"That is far from the point. Do you grant my burning plea?" + +"I understood I had offended you." + +"You did," she said. "VICIOUSLY!" + +"I am sorry," I continued. "I wanted to ask you to forgive me--" + +I spoke seriously, and that seemed to strike her as odd or needing +explanation, for she levelled her blue eyes at me, and interrupted, +with something more like seriousness in her own voice than I had yet +heard from her: + +"What made you think I was offended?" + +"Your look of reproach when you left the table--" + +"Nothing else?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes; Miss Ward told me you were." + +"Yes; she drove over with you. That's it!" she exclaimed with vigour, +and nodded her head as if some suspicion of hers had been confirmed. "I +thought so!" + +"You thought she had told me?" + +"No," said Miss Elliott decidedly. "Thought that Elizabeth wanted to +have her cake and eat it too." + +"I don't understand." + +"Then you'll get no help from me," she returned slowly, a frown marking +her pretty forehead. "But I was only playing offended, and she knew it. +I thought your note was THAT fetching!" + +She continued to look thoughtful for a moment longer, then with a +resumption of her former manner--the pretence of an earnestness much +deeper than the real--"Will you take me painting with you?" she said. +"If it will convince you that I mean it, I'll give up my hopes of +seeing that SUMPTUOUS Mr. Saffren and go back to Quesnay now, before he +comes home. He's been out for a walk--a long one, since it's lasted +ever since early this morning, so the waiter told me. May I go with +you? You CAN'T know how enervating it is up there at the chateau--all +except Mrs. Harman, and even she--" + +"What about Mrs. Harman?" I asked, as she paused. + +"I think she must be in love." + +"What!" + +"I do think so," said the girl. "She's LIKE it, at least." + +"But with whom?" + +She laughed gaily. "I'm afraid she's my rival!" + +"Not with--" I began. + +"Yes, with your beautiful and mad young friend." + +"But--oh, it's preposterous!" I cried, profoundly disturbed. "She +couldn't be! If you knew a great deal about her--" + +"I may know more than you think. My simplicity of appearance is +deceptive," she mocked, beginning to set her sketch-box in order. "You +don't realise that Mrs. Harman and I are quite HURLED upon each other +at Quesnay, being two ravishingly intelligent women entirely surrounded +by large bodies of elementals. She has told me a great deal of herself +since that first evening, and I know--well, I know why she did not come +back from Dives this afternoon, for instance." + +"WHY?" I fairly shouted. + +She slid her sketch into a groove in the box, which she closed, and +rose to her feet before answering. Then she set her hat a little +straighter with a touch, looking so fixedly and with such grave +interest over my shoulder that I turned to follow her glance and +encountered our reflections in a window of the inn. Her own shed a +light upon THAT mystery, at all events. + +"I might tell you some day," she said indifferently, "if I gained +enough confidence in you through association in daily pursuits." + +"My dear young lady," I cried with real exasperation, "I am a working +man, and this is a working summer for me!" + +"Do you think I'd spoil it?" she urged gently. + +"But I get up with the first daylight to paint," I protested, "and I +paint all day--" + +She moved a step nearer me and laid her hand warningly upon my sleeve, +checking the outburst. + +I turned to see what she meant. + +Oliver Saffren had come in from the road and was crossing to the +gallery steps. He lifted his hat and gave me a quick word of greeting +as he passed, and at the sight of his flushed and happy face my riddle +was solved for me. Amazing as the thing was, I had no doubt of the +revelation. + +"Ah," I said to Miss Elliott when he had gone, "I won't have to take +pupils to get the answer to my question, now!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +"Ha, these philosophers," said the professor, expanding in discourse a +little later--"these dreamy people who talk of the spirit, they tell +you that spirit is abstract!" He waved his great hand in a sweeping +semicircle which carried it out of our orange candle-light and freckled +it with the cold moonshine which sieved through the loosened screen of +honeysuckle. "Ha, the folly!" + +"What do YOU say it is?" I asked, moving so that the smoke of my cigar +should not drift toward Oliver, who sat looking out into the garden. + +"I, my friend? I do not say that it IS! But all such things, they are +only a question of names, and when I use the word 'spirit' I mean +identity--universal identity, if you like. It is what we all are, +yes--and those flowers, too. But the spirit of the flowers is not what +you smell, nor what you see, that look so pretty: it is the flowers +themself! Yet all spirit is only one spirit and one spirit is all +spirit--and if you tell me this is Pant'eism I will tell you that you +do not understand!" + +"I don't tell you that," said I, "neither do I understand." + +"Nor that big Keredec either!" Whereupon he loosed the rolling thunder +of his laughter. "Nor any brain born of the monkey people! But this +world is full of proof that everything that exist is all one thing, and +it is the instinct of that, when it draws us together, which makes what +we call 'love.' Even those wicked devils of egoism in our inside is +only love which grows too long the wrong way, like the finger nails of +the Chinese empress. Young love is a little sprout of universal unity. +When the young people begin to feel it, THEY are not abstract, ha? And +the young man, when he selects, he chooses one being from all the +others to mean--just for him--all that great universe of which he is a +part." + +This was wandering whimsically far afield, but as I caught the +good-humoured flicker of the professor's glance at our companion I +thought I saw a purpose in his deviation. Saffren turned toward him +wonderingly, his unconscious, eager look remarkably emphasised and +brightened. + +"All such things are most strange--great mysteries," continued the +professor. "For when a man has made the selection, THAT being DOES +become all the universe, and for him there is nothing else at +all--nothing else anywhere!" + +Saffren's cheeks and temples were flushed as they had been when I saw +him returning that afternoon; and his eyes were wide, fixed upon +Keredec in a stare of utter amazement. + +"Yes, that is true," he said slowly. "How did you know?" + +Keredec returned his look with an attentive scrutiny, and made some +exclamation under his breath, which I did not catch, but there was no +mistaking his high good humour. + +"Bravo!" he shouted, rising and clapping the other upon the shoulder. +"You will soon cure my rheumatism if you ask me questions like that! +Ho, ho, ho!" He threw back his head and let the mighty salvos forth. +"Ho, ho, ho! How do I know? The young, always they believe they are the +only ones who were ever young! Ho, ho, ho! Come, we shall make those +lessons very easy to-night. Come, my friend! How could that big, old +Keredec know of such things? He is too old, too foolish! Ho, ho, ho!" + +As he went up the steps, the courtyard reverberating again to his +laughter, his arm resting on Saffren's shoulders, but not so heavily as +usual. The door of their salon closed upon them, and for a while +Keredec's voice could be heard booming cheerfully; it ended in another +burst of laughter. + +A moment later Saffren opened the door and called to me. + +"Here," I answered from my veranda, where I had just lighted my second +cigar. + +"No more work to-night. All finished," he cried jubilantly, springing +down the steps. "I'm coming to have a talk with you." + +Amedee had removed the candles, the moon had withdrawn in fear of a +turbulent mob of clouds, rioting into our sky from seaward; the air +smelled of imminent rain, and it was so dark that I could see my +visitor only as a vague, tall shape; but a happy excitement vibrated in +his rich voice, and his step on the gravelled path was light and +exultant. + +"I won't sit down," he said. "I'll walk up and down in front of the +veranda--if it doesn't make you nervous." + +For answer I merely laughed; and he laughed too, in genial response, +continuing gaily: + +"Oh, it's all so different with me! Everything is. That BLIND feeling I +told you of--it's all gone. I must have been very babyish, the other +day; I don't think I could feel like that again. It used to seem to me +that I lived penned up in a circle of blank stone walls; I couldn't see +over the top for myself at all, though now and then Keredec would boost +me up and let me get a little glimmer of the country round about--but +never long enough to see what it was really like. But it's not so now. +Ah!"--he drew a long breath--"I'd like to run. I think I could run all +the way to the top of a pretty fair-sized mountain to-night, and +then"--he laughed--"jump off and ride on the clouds." + +"I know how that is," I responded. "At least I did know--a few years +ago." + +"Everything is a jumble with me," he went on happily, in a confidential +tone, "yet it's a heavenly kind of jumble. I can't put anything into +words. I don't THINK very well yet, though Keredec is trying to teach +me. My thoughts don't run in order, and this that's happened seems to +make them wilder, queerer--" He stopped short. + +"What has happened?" + +He paused in his sentry-go, facing me, and answered, in a low voice: + +"I've seen her again." + +"Yes, I know." + +"She told me you knew it," he said, "--that she had told you." + +"Yes." + +"But that's not all," he said, his voice rising a little. "I saw her +again the day after she told you--" + +"You did!" I murmured. + +"Oh, I tell myself that it's a dream," he cried, "that it CAN'T be +true. For it has been EVERY day since then! That's why I haven't joined +you in the woods. I have been with her, walking with her, listening to +her, looking at her--always feeling that it must be unreal and that I +must try not to wake up. She has been so kind--so wonderfully, +beautifully kind to me!" + +"She has met you?" I asked, thinking ruefully of George Ward, now on +the high seas in the pleasant company of old hopes renewed. + +"She has let me meet her. And to-day we lunched at the inn at Dives and +then walked by the sea all afternoon. She gave me the whole day--the +whole day! You see"--he began to pace again--"you see I was right, and +you were wrong. She wasn't offended--she was glad--that I couldn't help +speaking to her; she has said so." + +"Do you think," I interrupted, "that she would wish you to tell me +this?" + +"Ah, she likes you!" he said so heartily, and appearing meanwhile so +satisfied with the completeness of his reply, that I was fain to take +some satisfaction in it myself. "What I wanted most to say to you," he +went on, "is this: you remember you promised to tell me whatever you +could learn about her--and about her husband?" + +"I remember." + +"It's different now. I don't want you to," he said. "I want only to +know what she tells me herself. She has told me very little, but I know +when the time comes she WILL tell me everything. But I wouldn't hasten +it. I wouldn't have anything changed from just THIS!" + +"You mean--" + +"I mean the way it IS. If I could hope to see her every day, to be in +the woods with her, or down by the shore--oh, I don't want to know +anything but that!" + +"No doubt you have told her," I ventured, "a good deal about yourself," +and was instantly ashamed of myself. I suppose I spoke out of a sense +of protest against Mrs. Harman's strange lack of conventionality, +against so charming a lady's losing her head as completely as she +seemed to have lost hers, and it may have been, too, out of a feeling +of jealousy for poor George--possibly even out of a little feeling of +the same sort on my own account. But I couldn't have said it except for +the darkness, and, as I say, I was instantly ashamed. + +It does not whiten my guilt that the shaft did not reach him. + +"I've told her all I know," he said readily, and the unconscious pathos +of the answer smote me. "And all that Keredec has let me know. You see +I haven't--" + +"But do you think," I interrupted quickly, anxious, in my remorse, to +divert him from that channel, "do you think Professor Keredec would +approve, if he knew?" + +"I think he would," he responded slowly, pausing in his walk again. "I +have a feeling that perhaps he does know, and yet I have been afraid to +tell him, afraid he might try to stop me--keep me from going to wait +for her. But he has a strange way of knowing things; I think he knows +everything in the world! I have felt to-night that he knows this, +and--it's very strange, but I--well, what WAS it that made him so glad?" + +"The light is still burning in his room," I said quietly. + +"You mean that I ought to tell him?" His voice rose a little. + +"He's done a good deal for you, hasn't he?" I suggested. "And even if +he does know he might like to hear it from you." + +"You're right; I'll tell him to-night." This came with sudden decision, +but with less than marked what followed. "But he can't stop me, now. No +one on earth shall do that, except Madame d'Armand herself. No one!" + +"I won't quarrel with that," I said drily, throwing away my cigar, +which had gone out long before. + +He hesitated, and then I saw his hand groping toward me in the +darkness, and, rising, I gave him mine. + +"Good night," he said, and shook my hand as the first sputterings of +the coming rain began to patter on the roof of the pavilion. "I'm glad +to tell him; I'm glad to have told you. Ah, but isn't this," he cried, +"a happy world!" + +Turning, he ran to the gallery steps. "At last I'm glad," he called +back over his shoulder, "I'm glad that I was born--" + +A gust of wind blew furiously into the courtyard at that instant, and I +heard his voice indistinctly, but I thought--though I might have been +mistaken--that I caught a final word, and that it was "again." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The rain of two nights and two days had freshened the woods, deepening +the green of the tree-trunks and washing the dust from the leaves, and +now, under the splendid sun of the third morning, we sat painting in a +sylvan aisle that was like a hall of Aladdin's palace, the filigreed +arches of foliage above us glittering with pendulous rain-drops. But +Arabian Nights' palaces are not to my fancy for painting; the air, +rinsed of its colour, was too sparklingly clean; the interstices of sky +and the roughly framed distances I prized, were brought too close. It +was one of those days when Nature throws herself straight in your face +and you are at a loss to know whether she has kissed you or slapped +you, though you are conscious of the tingle;--a day, in brief, more for +laughing than for painting, and the truth is that I suited its mood +only too well, and laughed more than I painted, though I sat with my +easel before me and a picture ready upon my palette to be painted. + +No one could have understood better than I that this was setting a bad +example to the acolyte who sat, likewise facing an easel, ten paces to +my left; a very sportsmanlike figure of a painter indeed, in her short +skirt and long coat of woodland brown, the fine brown of dead +oak-leaves; a "devastating" selection of colour that!--being much the +same shade as her hair--with brown for her hat too, and the veil +encircling the small crown thereof, and brown again for the stout, +high, laced boots which protected her from the wet tangle underfoot. +Who could have expected so dashing a young person as this to do any +real work at painting? Yet she did, narrowing her eyes to the finest +point of concentration, and applying herself to the task in hand with a +persistence which I found, on that particular morning, far beyond my +own powers. + +As she leaned back critically, at the imminent risk of capsizing her +camp-stool, and herself with it, in her absorption, some ill-suppressed +token of amusement most have caught her ear, for she turned upon me +with suspicion, and was instantly moved to moralize upon the reluctance +I had shown to accept her as a companion for my excursions; taking as +her theme, in contrast, her own present display of ambition; all in all +a warm, if over-coloured, sketch of the idle master and the industrious +apprentice. It made me laugh again, upon which she changed the subject. + +"An indefinable something tells me," she announced coldly, "that +henceforth you needn't be so DRASTICALLY fearful of being dragged to +the chateau for dinner, nor dejeuner either!" + +"Did anything ever tell you that I had cause to fear it?" + +"Yes," she said, but too simply. "Jean Ferret." + +"Anglicise that ruffian's name," I muttered, mirth immediately +withering upon me, "and you'll know him better. To save time: will you +mention anything you can think of that he HASN'T told you?" + +Miss Elliott cocked her head upon one side to examine the work of art +she was producing, while a slight smile, playing about her lips, seemed +to indicate that she was appeased. "You and Miss Ward are old and dear +friends, aren't you?" she asked absently. + +"We are!" I answered between my teeth. "For years I have sent her +costly jewels--" + +She interrupted me by breaking outright into a peal of laughter, which +rang with such childish delight that I retorted by offering several +malevolent observations upon the babbling of French servants and the +order of mind attributable to those who listened to them. Her defence +was to affect inattention and paint busily until some time after I had +concluded. + +"I think she's going to take Cressie Ingle," she said dreamily, with +the air of one whose thoughts have been far, far away. "It looks +preponderously like it. She's been teetertottering these AGES and AGES +between you--" + +"Between whom?" + +"You and Mr. Ingle," she replied, not altering her tone in the +slightest. "But she's all for her brother, of course, and though you're +his friend, Ingle is a personage in the world they court, and among the +MULTITUDINOUS things his father left him is an art magazine, or one +that's long on art or something of that sort--I don't know just +what--so altogether it will be a good thing for DEAREST Mr. Ward. She +likes Cressie, of course, though I think she likes you better--" + +I managed to find my voice and interrupt the thistle-brained creature. +"What put these fantasias into your head?" + +"Not Jean Ferret," she responded promptly. + +"It's cruel of me to break it to you so coarsely--I know--but if you +are ever going to make up your mind to her building as glaring a +success of you as she has of her brother, I think you must do it now. +She's on the point of accepting Mr. Ingle, and what becomes of YOU will +depend on your conduct in the most immediate future. She won't ask you +to Quesnay again, so you'd better go up there on your own accord.--And +on your bended knees, too!" she added as an afterthought. + +I sought for something to say which might have a chance of impressing +her--a desperate task on the face of it--and I mentioned that Miss Ward +was her hostess. + +One might as well have tried to impress Amedee. She "made a little +mouth" and went on dabbling with her brushes. "Hostess? Pooh!" she said +cheerfully. "My INFANTILE father sent me here to be in her charge while +he ran home to America. Mr. Ward's to paint my portrait, when he comes. +Give and take--it's simple enough, you see!" + +Here was frankness with a vengeance, and I fell back upon silence, +whereupon a pause ensued, to my share of which I imparted the deepest +shadow of disapproval within my power. Unfortunately, she did not look +at me; my effort passed with no other effect than to make some of my +facial muscles ache. + +"'Portrait of Miss E., by George Ward, H. C.,'" this painfully +plain-speaking young lady continued presently. "On the line at next +spring's Salon, then packed up for the dear ones at home. I'd as soon +own an 'Art Bronze,' myself--or a nice, clean porcelain Arab." + +"No doubt you've forgotten for the moment," I said, "that Mr. Ward is +my friend." + +"Not in painting, he isn't," she returned quickly, + +"I consider his work altogether creditable; it's carefully done, +conscientious, effective--" + +"Isn't that true of the ladies in the hairdressers' windows?" she asked +with assumed artlessness. "Can't you say a kind word for them, good +gentleman, and heaven bless you?" + +"Why sha'n't I be asked to Quesnay again?" + +She laughed. "You haven't seemed FANATICALLY appreciative of your +opportunities when you have been there; you might have carried her off +from Cresson Ingle instead of vice versa. But after all, you +AREN'T"--here she paused and looked at me appraisingly for a +moment-"you AREN'T the most piratical dash-in-and-dash-out and +leave-everything-upside-down-behind-you sort of man, are you?" + +"No, I believe I'm not." + +"However, that's only a SMALL half of the reason," Miss Elliott went +on. "She's furious on account of this." + +These were vague words, and I said so. + +"Oh, THIS," she explained, "my being here; your letting me come. +Impropriety--all of that!" A sharp whistle issued from her lips. "Oh! +the EXCORIATING things she's said of my pursuing you!" + +"But doesn't she know that it's only part of your siege of Madame +Brossard's; that it's a subterfuge in the hope of catching a glimpse of +Oliver Saffren?" + +"No!" she cried, her eyes dancing; "I told her that, but she thinks +it's only a subterfuge in the hope of catching more than a glimpse of +you!" + +I joined laughter with her then. She was the first to stop, and, +looking at me somewhat doubtfully, she said: + +"Whereas, the truth is that it's neither. You know very well that I +want to paint." + +"Certainly," I agreed at once. "Your devotion to 'your art' and your +hope of spending half an hour at Madame Brossard's now and then are +separable;--which reminds me: Wouldn't you like me to look at your +sketch?" + +"No, not yet." She jumped up and brought her camp-stool over to mine. +"I feel that I could better bear what you'll say of it after I've had +some lunch. Not a SYLLABLE of food has crossed my lips since coffee at +dawn!" + +I spread before her what Amedee had prepared; not sandwiches for the +pocket to-day, but a wicker hamper, one end of which we let rest upon +her knees, the other upon mine, and at sight of the foie gras, the +delicate, devilled partridge, the truffled salad, the fine yellow +cheese, and the long bottle of good red Beaune, revealed when the cover +was off, I could almost have forgiven the old rascal for his +scandal-mongering. As for my vis-a-vis, she pronounced it a "maddening +sight." + +"Fall to, my merry man," she added, "and eat your fill of this fair +pasty, under the greenwood tree." Obeying her instructions with right +good-will, and the lady likewise evincing no hatred of the viands, we +made a cheerful meal of it, topping it with peaches and bunches of +grapes. + +"It is unfair to let you do all the catering," said Miss Elliott, after +carefully selecting the largest and best peach. + +"Jean Ferret's friend does that," I returned, watching her rather +intently as she dexterously peeled the peach. She did it very daintily, +I had to admit that--though I regretted to observe indications of the +gourmet in one so young. But when it was peeled clean, she set it on a +fresh green leaf, and, to my surprise, gave it to me. + +"You see," she continued, not observing my remorseful confusion, "I +couldn't destroy Elizabeth's peace of mind and then raid her larder to +boot. That poor lady! I make her trouble enough, but it's nothing to +what she's going to have when she finds out some things that she must +find out." + +"What is that?" + +"About Mrs. Harman," was the serious reply. "Elizabeth hasn't a clue." + +"'Clue'?" I echoed. + +"To Louise's strange affair." Miss Elliott's expression had grown as +serious as her tone. "It is strange; the strangest thing I ever knew." + +"But there's your own case," I urged. "Why should you think it strange +of her to take an interest in Saffren?" + +"I adore him, of course," she said. "He is the most glorious-looking +person I've ever seen, but on my WORD--" She paused, and as her gaze +met mine I saw real earnestness in her eyes. "I'm afraid--I was half +joking the other day--but now I'm really afraid Louise is beginning to +be in love with him." + +"Oh, mightn't it be only interest, so far?" I said. + +"No, it's much more. And I've grown so fond of her!" the girl went on, +her voice unexpectedly verging upon tremulousness. "She's quite +wonderful in her way--such an understanding sort of woman, and generous +and kind; there are so many things turning up in a party like ours at +Quesnay that show what people are really made of, and she's a rare, +fine spirit. It seems a pity, with such a miserable first experience as +she had, that this should happen. Oh I know," she continued rapidly, +cutting off a half-formed protest of mine. "He isn't mad--and I'm sorry +I tried to be amusing about it the night you dined at the chateau. I +know perfectly well he's not insane; but I'm absolutely sure, from one +thing and another, that--well--he isn't ALL THERE! He's as beautiful as +a seraph and probably as good as one, but something is MISSING about +him--and it begins to look like a second tragedy for her." + +"You mean, she really--" I began. + +"Yes, I do," she returned, with a catch in her throat. "She conies to +my room when the others are asleep. Not that she tells me a great deal, +but it's in the air, somehow; she told me with such a strained sort of +gaiety of their meeting and his first joining her; and there was +something underneath as if she thought _I_ might be really serious in +my ravings about him, and--yes, as if she meant to warn me off. And the +other night, when I saw her after their lunching together at Dives, I +asked her teasingly if she'd had a happy day, and she laughed the +prettiest laugh I ever heard and put her arms around me--then suddenly +broke out crying and ran out of the room." + +"But that may have been no more than over-strained nerves," I feebly +suggested. + +"Of course it was!" she cried, regarding me with justifiable +astonishment. "It's the CAUSE of their being overstrained that +interests me! It's all so strange and distressing," she continued more +gently, "that I wish I weren't there to see it. And there's poor George +Ward coming--ah! and when Elizabeth learns of it!" + +"Mrs. Harman had her way once, in spite of everything," I said +thoughtfully. + +"Yes, she was a headstrong girl of nineteen, then. But let's not think +it could go as far as that! There!" She threw a peach-stone over her +shoulder and sprang up gaily. "Let's not talk of it; I THINK of it +enough! It's time for you to give me a RACKING criticism on my +morning's work." + +Taking off her coat as she spoke, she unbuttoned the cuffs of her manly +blouse and rolled up her sleeves as far as they would go, preparations +which I observed with some perplexity. + +"If you intend any violence," said I, "in case my views of your work +shouldn't meet your own, I think I'll be leaving." + +"Wait," she responded, and kneeling upon one knee beside a bush near +by, thrust her arms elbow-deep under the outer mantle of leaves, +shaking the stems vigorously, and sending down a shower of sparkling +drops. Never lived sane man, or madman, since time began, who, seeing +her then, could or would have denied that she made the very prettiest +picture ever seen by any person or persons whatsoever--but her purpose +was difficult to fathom. Pursuing it, I remarked that it was improbable +that birds would be nesting so low. + +"It's for a finger bowl," she said briskly. And rising, this most +practical of her sex dried her hands upon a fresh serviette from the +hamper. "Last night's rain is worth two birds in the bush." + +With that, she readjusted her sleeves, lightly donned her coat, and +preceded me to her easel. "Now," she commanded, "slaughter! It's what I +let you come with me for." + +I looked at her sketch with much more attention than I had given the +small board she had used as a bait in the courtyard of Les Trois +Pigeons. Today she showed a larger ambition, and a larger canvas as +well--or, perhaps I should say a larger burlap, for she had chosen to +paint upon something strongly resembling a square of coffee-sacking. +But there was no doubt she had "found colour" in a swash-buckling, +bullying style of forcing it to be there, whether it was or not, and to +"vibrate," whether it did or not. There was not much to be said, for +the violent kind of thing she had done always hushes me; and even when +it is well done I am never sure whether its right place is the "Salon +des Independants" or the Luxembourg. It SEEMS dreadful, and yet +sometimes I fear in secret that it may be a real transition, or even an +awakening, and that the men I began with, and I, are standing still. +The older men called US lunatics once, and the critics said we were +"daring," but that was long ago. + +"Well?" she said. + +I had to speak, so I paraphrased a mot of Degas (I think it was Degas) +and said: + +"If Rousseau could come to life and see this sketch of yours, I imagine +he would be very much interested, but if he saw mine he might say, +'That is my fault!'" + +"OH!" she cried, her colour rising quickly; she looked troubled for a +second, then her eyes twinkled. "You're not going to let my work make a +difference between us, are you?" + +"I'll even try to look at it from your own point of view," I answered, +stepping back several yards to see it better, though I should have had +to retire about a quarter of the length of a city block to see it quite +from her own point of view. + +She moved with me, both of us walking backward. I began: + +"For a day like this, with all the colour in the trees themselves and +so very little in the air--" + +There came an interruption, a voice of unpleasant and wiry nasality, +speaking from behind us. + +"WELL, WELL!" it said. "So here we are again!" + +I faced about and beheld, just emerged from a by-path, a fox-faced +young man whose light, well-poised figure was jauntily clad in gray +serge, with scarlet waistcoat and tie, white shoes upon his feet, and a +white hat, gaily beribboned, upon his head. A recollection of the dusky +road and a group of people about Pere Baudry's lamplit door flickered +across my mind. + +"The historical tourist!" I exclaimed. "The highly pedestrian tripper +from Trouville!" + +"You got me right, m'dear friend," he replied with condescension; "I +rec'leck meetin' you perfect." + +"And I was interested to learn," said I, carefully observing the effect +of my words upon him, "that you had been to Les Trois Pigeons after +all. Perhaps I might put it, you had been through Les Trois Pigeons, +for the maitre d'hotel informed me you had investigated every +corner--that wasn't locked." + +"Sure," he returned, with rather less embarrassment than a brazen +Vishnu would have exhibited under the same circumstances. "He showed me +what pitchers they was in your studio. I'll luk 'em over again fer ye +one of these days. Some of 'em was right gud." + +"You will be visiting near enough for me to avail myself of the +opportunity?" + +"Right in the Pigeon House, m'friend. I've just come down t'putt in a +few days there," he responded coolly. "They's a young feller in this +neighbourhood I take a kind o' fam'ly interest in." + +"Who is that?" I asked quickly. + +For answer he produced the effect of a laugh by widening and lifting +one side of his mouth, leaving the other, meantime, rigid. + +"Don' lemme int'rup' the conv'sation with yer lady-friend," he said +winningly. "What they call 'talkin' High Arts,' wasn't it? I'd like to +hear some." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Miss Elliott's expression, when I turned to observe the effect of the +intruder upon her, was found to be one of brilliant delight. With +glowing eyes, her lips parted in a breathless ecstasy, she gazed upon +the newcomer, evidently fearing to lose a syllable that fell from his +lips. Moving closer to me she whispered urgently: + +"Keep him. Oh, keep him!" + +To detain him, for a time at least, was my intention, though my motive +was not merely to afford her pleasure. The advent of the young man had +produced a singularly disagreeable impression upon me, quite apart from +any antagonism I might have felt toward him as a type. Strange +suspicions leaped into my mind, formless--in the surprise of the +moment--but rapidly groping toward definite outline; and following hard +upon them crept a tingling apprehension. The reappearance of this +rattish youth, casual as was the air with which he strove to invest it, +began to assume, for me, the character of a theatrical entrance of +unpleasant portent--a suggestion just now enhanced by an absurdly +obvious notion of his own that he was enacting a part. This was written +all over him, most legibly in his attitude of the knowing amateur, as +he surveyed Miss Elliott's painting patronisingly, his head on one +side, his cane in the crook of his elbows behind his back, and his body +teetering genteelly as he shifted his weight from his toes to his heels +and back again, nodding meanwhile a slight but judicial approbation. + +"Now, about how much," he said slowly, "would you expec' t' git f'r a +pitcher that size?" + +"It isn't mine," I informed him. + +"You don't tell me it's the little lady's--what?" He bowed genially and +favoured Miss Elliott with a stare of warm admiration. "Pretty a thing +as I ever see," he added. + +"Oh," she cried with an ardour that choked her slightly. "THANK you!" + +"Oh, I meant the PITCHER!" he said hastily, evidently nonplussed by a +gratitude so fervent. + +The incorrigible damsel cast down her eyes in modesty. "And I had +hoped," she breathed, "something so different!" + +I could not be certain whether or not he caught the whisper; I thought +he did. At all events, the surface of his easy assurance appeared +somewhat disarranged; and, perhaps to restore it by performing the +rites of etiquette, he said: + +"Well, I expec' the smart thing now is to pass the cards, but mine's in +my grip an' it ain't unpacked yet. The name you'd see on 'em is Oil +Poicy." + +"Oil Poicy," echoed Miss Elliott, turning to me in genuine astonishment. + +"Mr. Earl Percy," I translated. + +"Oh, RAPTUROUS!" she cried, her face radiant. "And WON'T Mr. Percy give +us his opinion of my Art?" + +Mr. Percy was in doubt how to take her enthusiasm; he seemed on the +point of turning surly, and hesitated, while a sharp vertical line +appeared on his small forehead; but he evidently concluded, after a +deep glance at her, that if she was making game of him it was in no +ill-natured spirit--nay, I think that for a few moments he suspected +her liveliness to be some method of her own for the incipient stages of +a flirtation. + +Finally he turned again to the easel, and as he examined the painting +thereon at closer range, amazement overspread his features. However, +pulling himself together, he found himself able to reply--and with +great gallantry: + +"Well, on'y t' think them little hands cud 'a' done all that rough +woik!" + +The unintended viciousness of this retort produced an effect so marked, +that, except for my growing uneasiness, I might have enjoyed her +expression. + +As it was, I saved her face by entering into the conversation with a +question, which I put quickly: + +"You intend pursuing your historical researches in the neighborhood?" + +The facial contortion which served him for a laugh, and at the same +time as a symbol of unfathomable reserve, was repeated, accompanied by +a jocose manifestation, in the nature of a sharp and taunting cackle, +which seemed to indicate a conviction that he was getting much the best +of it in some conflict of wits. + +"Them fairy tales I handed you about ole Jeanne d'Arc and William the +Conker," he said, "say, they must 'a' made you sore after-WOIDS!" + +"On the contrary, I was much interested in everything pertaining to +your too brief visit," I returned; "I am even more so now." + +"Well, m'friend"--he shot me a sidelong, distrustful glance--"keep yer +eyes open." + +"That is just the point!" I laughed, with intentional significance, for +I meant to make Mr. Percy talk as much as I could. To this end, +remembering that specimens of his kind are most indiscreet when +carefully enraged, I added, simulating his own manner: + +"Eyes open--and doors locked! What?" + +At this I heard a gasp of astonishment from Miss Elliott, who must have +been puzzled indeed; but I was intent upon the other. He proved +perfectly capable of being insulted. + +"I guess they ain't much need o' lockin' YOUR door," he retorted +darkly; "not from what I saw when I was in your studio!" He should have +stopped there, for the hit was palpable and justified; but in his +resentment he overdid it. "You needn't be scared of anybody's cartin' +off THEM pitchers, young feller! WHOOSH! An' f'm the luks of the CLO'ES +I saw hangin' on the wall," he continued, growing more nettled as I +smiled cheerfully upon him, "I don' b'lieve you gut any worries comin' +about THEM, neither!" + +"I suppose our tastes are different," I said, letting my smile broaden. +"There might be protection in that." + +His stare at me was protracted to an unseemly length before the sting +of this remark reached him; it penetrated finally, however, and in his +sharp change of posture there was a lightning flicker of the +experienced boxer; but he checked the impulse, and took up the task of +obliterating me in another way. + +"As I tell the little dame here," he said, pitching his voice higher +and affecting the plaintive, "I make no passes at a friend o' her--not +in front o' her, anyways. But when it comes to these here ole, ancient +curiosities"--he cackled again, loudly--"well, I guess them clo'es I +see, that day, kin hand it out t' anything they got in the museums! +'Look here,' I says to the waiter, 'THESE must be'n left over f'm ole +Jeanne d'Arc herself,' I says. 'Talk about yer relics,' I says. Whoosh! +I'd like t' died!" He laughed violently, and concluded by turning upon +me with a contemptuous flourish of his stick. "You think I d'know what +makes YOU so raw?" + +The form of repartee necessary to augment his ill humour was, of +course, a matter of simple mechanism for one who had not entirely +forgotten his student days in the Quarter; and I delivered it airily, +though I shivered inwardly that Miss Elliott should hear. + +"Everything will be all right if, when you dine at the inn, you'll sit +with your back toward me." + +To my shamed surprise, this roustabout wit drew a nervous, silvery +giggle from her; and that completed the work with Mr. Percy, whose face +grew scarlet with anger. + +"You're a hot one, you are!" he sneered, with shocking bitterness. +"You're quite the teaser, ain't ye, s'long's yer lady-friend is lukkin' +on! I guess they'll be a few surprises comin' YOUR way, before long. +P'raps I cudn't give ye one now 'f I had a mind to." + +"Pshaw," I laughed, and, venturing at hazard, said, "I know all YOU +know!" + +"Oh, you do!" he cried scornfully. "I reckon you might set up an' take +a little notice, though, if you knowed 'at I know all YOU know!" + +"Not a bit of it!" + +"No? Maybe you think I don't know what makes you so raw with ME? Maybe +you think I don't know who ye've got so thick with at this here Pigeon +House; maybe you think I don't know who them people ARE!" + +"No, you don't. You have learned," I said, trying to control my +excitement, "nothing! Whoever hired YOU for a spy lost the money. YOU +don't know ANY-thing!" + +"I DON'T!" And with that his voice went to a half-shriek. "Maybe you +think I'm down here f'r my health; maybe you think I come out f'r a +pleasant walk in the woods right now; maybe you think I ain't seen no +other lady-friend o' yours besides this'n to-day, and maybe I didn't +see who was with her--yes, an' maybe you think I d'know no other times +he's be'n with her. Maybe you think I ain't be'n layin' low over at +Dives! Maybe I don't know a few real NAMES in this neighbourhood! Oh, +no, MAYBE not!" + +"You know what the maitre d'hotel told you; nothing more." + +"How about the name--OLIVER SAFFREN?" he cried fiercely, and at last, +though I had expected it, I uttered an involuntary exclamation. + +"How about it?" he shouted, advancing toward me triumphantly, shaking +his forefinger in my face. "Hey? THAT stings some, does it? Sounds kind +o' like a FALSE name, does it? Got ye where the hair is short, that +time, didn't I?" + +"Speaking of names," I retorted, "'Oil Poicy' doesn't seem to ring +particularly true to me!" + +"It'll be gud enough fer you, young feller," he responded angrily. "It +may belong t' me, an' then again, it maybe don't. It ain' gunna git me +in no trouble; I'll luk out f'r that. YOUR side's where the trouble is; +that's what's eatin' into you. An' I'll tell you flat-foot, your +gittin' rough 'ith me and playin' Charley the Show-Off in front o' yer +lady-friends'll all go down in the bill. These people ye've got so +chummy with--THEY'LL pay f'r it all right, don't you shed no tears over +that!" + +"You couldn't by any possibility," I said deliberately, with as much +satire as I could command, "you couldn't possibly mean that any sum of +mere money might be a salve for the injuries my unkind words have +inflicted?" + +Once more he seemed upon the point of destroying me physically, but, +with a slight shudder, controlled himself. Stepping close to me, he +thrust his head forward and measured the emphases of his speech by his +right forefinger upon my shoulder, as he said: + +"You paint THIS in yer pitchers, m' dear friend; they's jest as much +law in this country as they is on the corner o' Twenty-thoid Street an' +Fif' Avenoo! You keep out the way of it, or you'll git runned over!" + +Delivering a final tap on my shoulder as a last warning, he wheeled +deftly upon his heel, addressed Miss Elliott briefly, "Glad t' know +YOU, lady," and striking into the by-path by which he had approached +us, was soon lost to sight. + +The girl faced me excitedly. "What IS it?" she cried. "It seemed to me +you insulted him deliberately--" + +"I did." + +"You wanted to make him angry?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! I thought so!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "I knew there was +something serious underneath. It's about Mr. Saffren?" + +"It is serious indeed, I fear," I said, and turning to my own easel, +began to get my traps together. "I'll tell you the little I know, +because I want you to tell Mrs. Harman what has just happened, and +you'll be able to do it better if you understand what is understandable +about the rest of it." + +"You mean you wouldn't tell me so that I could understand for myself?" +There was a note of genuine grieved reproach in her voice. "Ah, then +I've made you think me altogether a hare-brain!" + +"I haven't time to tell you what I think of you," I said brusquely, +and, strangely enough, it seemed to please her. But I paid little +attention to that, continuing quickly: "When Professor Keredec and Mr. +Saffren came to Les Trois Pigeons, they were so careful to keep out of +everybody's sight that one might have suspected that they were in +hiding--and, in fact, I'm sure that they were--though, as time passed +and nothing alarming happened, they've felt reassured and allowed +themselves more liberty. It struck me that Keredec at first dreaded +that they might be traced to the inn, and I'm afraid his fear was +justified, for one night, before I came to know them, I met Mr. 'Percy' +on the road; he'd visited Madame Brossard's and pumped Amedee dry, but +clumsily tried to pretend to me that he had not been there at all. At +the time, I did not connect him even remotely with Professor Keredec's +anxieties. I imagined he might have an eye to the spoons; but it's as +ridiculous to think him a burglar as it would be to take him for a +detective. What he is, or what he has to do with Mr. Saffren, I can +guess no more than I can guess the cause of Keredec's fears, but the +moment I saw him to-day, saw that he'd come back, I knew it was THAT, +and tried to draw him out. You heard what he said; there's no doubt +that Saffren stands in danger of some kind. It may be inconsiderable, +or even absurd, but it's evidently imminent, and no matter what it is, +Mrs. Harman must be kept out of it. I want you to see her as soon as +you can and ask her from me--no, persuade her yourself--not to leave +Quesnay for a day or two. I mean, that she absolutely MUST NOT meet Mr. +Saffren again until we know what all this means. Will you do it?" + +"That I will!" And she began hastily to get her belongings in marching +order. "I'll do anything in the world you'll let me--and oh, I hope +they can't do anything to poor, poor Mr. Saffren!" + +"Our sporting friend had evidently seen him with Mrs. Harman to-day," I +said. "Do you know if they went to the beach again?" + +"I only know she meant to meet him--but she told me she'd be back at +the chateau by four. If I start now--" + +"Wasn't the phaeton to be sent to the inn for you?" + +"Not until six," she returned briskly, folding her easel and strapping +it to her camp-stool with precision. "Isn't it shorter by the woods?" + +"You've only to follow this path to the second crossing and then turn +to the right," I responded. "I shall hurry back to Madame Brossard's to +see Keredec--and here"--I extended my hand toward her traps, of which, +in a neatly practical fashion, she had made one close pack--"let me +have your things, and I'll take care of them at the inn for you. +They're heavy, and it's a long trudge." + +"You have your own to carry," she answered, swinging the strap over her +shoulder. "It's something of a walk for you, too." + +"No, no, let me have them," I protested, for the walk before her WAS +long and the things would be heavy indeed before it ended. + +"Go your ways," she laughed, and as my hand still remained extended she +grasped it with her own and gave it a warm and friendly shake. "Hurry!" +And with an optimism which took my breath, she said, "I know YOU can +make it come out all right! Besides, I'll help you!" + +With that she turned and started manfully upon her journey. I stared +after her for a moment or more, watching the pretty brown dress +flashing in and out of shadow among the ragged greeneries, shafts of +sunshine now and then flashing upon her hair. Then I picked up my own +pack and set out for the inn. + +Every one knows that the more serious and urgent the errand a man may +be upon, the more incongruous are apt to be the thoughts that skip into +his mind. As I went through the woods that day, breathless with haste +and curious fears, my brain became suddenly, unaccountably busy with a +dream I had had, two nights before. I had not recalled this dream on +waking: the recollection of it came to me now for the first time. It +was a usual enough dream, wandering and unlifelike, not worth the +telling; and I had been thinking so constantly of Mrs. Harman that +there was nothing extraordinary in her worthless ex-husband's being +part of it. + +And yet, looking back upon that last, hurried walk of mine through the +forest, I see how strange it was that I could not quit remembering how +in my dream I had gone motoring up Mount Pilatus with the man I had +seen so pitiably demolished on the Versailles road, two years +before--Larrabee Harman. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Keredec was alone in his salon, extended at ease upon a long chair, an +ottoman and a stool, when I burst in upon him; a portentous volume was +in his lap, and a prolific pipe, smoking up from his great cloud of +beard, gave the final reality to the likeness he thus presented of a +range of hills ending in a volcano. But he rolled the book cavalierly +to the floor, limbered up by sections to receive me, and offered me a +hearty welcome. + +"Ha, my dear sir," he cried, "you take pity on the lonely Keredec; you +make him a visit. I could not wish better for myself. We shall have a +good smoke and a good talk." + +"You are improved to-day?" I asked, it may be a little slyly. + +"Improve?" he repeated inquiringly. + +"Your rheumatism, I mean." + +"Ha, yes; that rheumatism!" he shouted, and throwing back his head, +rocked the room with sudden laughter. "Hew! But it is gone--almost! Oh, +I am much better, and soon I shall be able to go in the woods again +with my boy." He pushed a chair toward me. "Come, light your cigar; he +will not return for an hour perhaps, and there is plenty of time for +the smoke to blow away. So! It is better. Now we shall talk." + +"Yes," I said, "I wanted to talk with you." + +"That is a--what you call?--ha, yes, a coincidence," he returned, +stretching himself again in the long chair, "a happy coincidence; for I +have wished a talk with you; but you are away so early for all day, and +in the evening Oliver, he is always here." + +"I think what I wanted to talk about concerns him particularly." + +"Yes?" The professor leaned forward, looking at me gravely. "That is +another coincidence. But you shall speak first. Commence then." + +"I feel that you know me at least well enough," I began rather +hesitatingly, "to be sure that I would not, for the world, make any +effort to intrude in your affairs, or Mr. Saffren's, and that I would +not force your confidence in the remotest--" + +"No, no, no!" he interrupted. "Please do not fear I shall +misinterpretate whatever you will say. You are our friend. We know it." + +"Very well," I pursued; "then I speak with no fear of offending. When +you first came to the inn I couldn't help seeing that you took a great +many precautions for secrecy; and when you afterward explained these +precautions to me on the ground that you feared somebody might think +Mr. Saffren not quite sane, and that such an impression might injure +him later--well, I could not help seeing that your explanation did not +cover all the ground." + +"It is true--it did not." He ran his huge hand through the heavy white +waves of his hair, and shook his head vigorously. "No; I knew it, my +dear sir, I knew it well. But, what could I do? I would not have telled +my own mother! This much I can say to you: we came here at a risk, but +I thought that with great care it might be made little. And I thought a +great good thing might be accomplish if we should come here, something +so fine, so wonderful, that even if the danger had been great I would +have risked it. I will tell you a little more: I think that great thing +is BEING accomplish!" Here he rose to his feet excitedly and began to +pace the room as he talked, the ancient floor shaking with his tread. +"I think it is DONE! And ha! my dear sir, if it SHOULD be, this big +Keredec will not have lived in vain! It was a great task I undertake +with my young man, and the glory to see it finish is almost here. Even +if the danger should come, the THING is done, for all that is real and +has true meaning is inside the soul!" + +"It was in connection with the risk you have mentioned that I came to +talk," I returned with some emphasis, for I was convinced of the +reality of Mr. Earl Percy and also very certain that he had no +existence inside or outside a soul. "I think it necessary that you +should know--" + +But the professor was launched. I might as well have swept the rising +tide with a broom. He talked with magnificent vehemence for twenty +minutes, his theme being some theory of his own that the individuality +of a soul is immortal, and that even in perfection, the soul cannot +possibly merge into any Nirvana. Meantime, I wondered how Mr. Percy was +employing his time, but after one or two ineffectual attempts to +interrupt, I gave myself to silence until the oration should be +concluded. + +"And so it is with my boy," he proclaimed, coming at last to the case +in hand. "The spirit of him, the real Oliver Saffren, THAT has NEVER +change! The outside of him, those thing that BELONG to him, like his +memory, THEY have change, but not himself, for himself is eternal and +unchangeable. I have taught him, yes; I have helped him get the small +things we can add to our possession--a little knowledge, maybe, a +little power of judgment. But, my dear sir, I tell you that such things +are ONLY possessions of a man. They are not the MAN! All that a man IS +or ever shall be, he is when he is a baby. So with Oliver; he had lived +a little while, twenty-six years, perhaps, when pft--like that!--he +became almost as a baby again. He could remember how to talk, but not +much more. He had lost his belongings--they were gone from the lobe of +the brain where he had stored them; but HE was not gone, no part of the +real HIMSELF was lacking. Then presently they send him to me to make +new his belongings, to restore his possessions. Ha, what a task! To +take him with nothing in the world of his own and see that he get only +GOOD possessions, GOOD knowledge, GOOD experience! I took him to the +mountains of the Tyrol--two years--and there his body became strong and +splendid while his brain was taking in the stores. It was quick, for +his brain had retained some habits; it was not a baby's brain, and some +small part of its old stores had not been lost. But if anything useless +or bad remain, we empty it out--I and those mountain' with their pure +air. Now, I say he is all good and the work was good; I am proud! But I +wish to restore ALL that was good in his life; your Keredec is +something of a poet.--You may put it: much the old fool! And for that +greates' restoration of all I have brought my boy back to France; since +it was necessary. It was a madness, and I thank the good God I was mad +enough to do it. I cannot tell you yet, my dear sir: but you shall see, +you shall see what the folly of that old Keredec has done! You shall +see, you shall--and I promise it--what a Paradise, when the good God +helps, an old fool's dream can make!" + +A half-light had broken upon me as he talked, pacing the floor, +thundering his paean of triumph, his Titanic gestures bruising the +harmless air. Only one explanation, incredible, but possible, sufficed. +Anything was possible, I thought--anything was probable--with this +dreamer whom the trump of Fame, executing a whimsical fantasia, +proclaimed a man of science! + +"By the wildest chance," I gasped, "you don't mean that you wanted him +to fall in love--" + +He had reached the other end of the room, but at this he whirled about +on me, his laughter rolling out again, till it might have been heard at +Pere Baudry's. + +"Ha, my dear sir, you have said it! But you knew it; you told him to +come to me and tell me." + +"But I mean that you--unless I utterly misunderstand--you seem to imply +that you had selected some one now in France whom you planned that he +should care for--that you had selected the lady whom you know as Madame +d'Armand." + +"Again," he shouted, "you have said it!" + +"Professor Keredec," I returned, with asperity, "I have no idea how you +came to conceive such a preposterous scheme, but I agree heartily that +the word for it is madness. In the first place, I must tell you that +her name is not even d'Armand--" + +"My dear sir, I know. It was the mistake of that absurd Amedee. She is +Mrs. Harman." + +"You knew it?" I cried, hopelessly confused. "But Oliver still speaks +of her as Madame d'Armand." + +"He does not know. She has not told him." + +"But why haven't you told him?" + +"Ha, that is a story, a poem," he cried, beginning to pace the floor +again--"a ballad as old as the oldest of Provence! There is a reason, +my dear sir, which I cannot tell you, but it lies within the romance of +what you agree is my madness. Some day, I hope, you shall understand +and applaud! In the meantime--" + +"In the meantime," I said sharply, as he paused for breath, "there is a +keen-faced young man who took a room in the inn this morning and who +has come to spy upon you, I believe." + +"What is it you say?" + +He came to a sudden stop. + +I had not meant to deliver my information quite so abruptly, but there +was no help for it now, and I repeated the statement, giving him a +terse account of my two encounters with the rattish youth, and adding: + +"He seemed to be certain that 'Oliver Saffren' is an assumed name, and +he made a threatening reference to the laws of France." + +The effect upon Keredec was a very distinct pallor. He faced me +silently until I had finished, then in a voice grown suddenly husky, +asked: + +"Do you think he came back to the inn? Is he here now?" + +"I do not know." + +"We must learn; I must know that, at once." And he went to the door. + +"Let me go instead," I suggested. + +"It can't make little difference if he see me," said the professor, +swallowing with difficulty and displaying, as he turned to me, a look +of such profound anxiety that I was as sorry for him now as I had been +irritated a few minutes earlier by his galliard air-castles. "I do not +know this man, nor does he know me, but I have fear"--his beard moved +as though his chin were trembling--"I have fear that I know his +employers. Still, it may be better if you go. Bring somebody here that +we can ask." + +"Shall I find Amedee?" + +"No, no, no! That babbler? Find Madame Brossard." + +I stepped out to the gallery, to discover Madame Brossard emerging from +a door on the opposite side of the courtyard; Amedee, Glouglou, and a +couple of carters deploying before her with some light trunks and bags, +which they were carrying into the passage she had just quitted. I +summoned her quietly; she came briskly up the steps and into the room, +and I closed the door. + +"Madame Brossard," said the professor, "you have a new client to-day." + +"That monsieur who arrived this morning," I suggested. + +"He was an American," said the hostess, knitting her dark brows--"but I +do not think that he was exactly a monsieur." + +"Bravo!" I murmured. "That sketches a likeness. It is this 'Percy' +without a doubt." + +"That is it," she returned. "Monsieur Poissy is the name he gave." + +"Is he at the inn now?" + +"No, monsieur, but two friends for whom he engaged apartments have just +arrived." + +"Who are they?" asked Keredec quickly. + +"It is a lady and a monsieur from Paris. But not married: they have +taken separate apartments and she has a domestic with her, a negress, +Algerian." + +"What are their names?" + +"It is not ten minutes that they are installed. They have not given me +their names." + +"What is the lady's appearance?" + +"Monsieur the Professor," replied the hostess demurely, "she is not +beautiful." + +"But what is she?" demanded Keredec impatiently; and it could be seen +that he was striving to control a rising agitation. "Is she blonde? Is +she brunette? Is she young? Is she old? Is she French, English, +Spanish--" + +"I think," said Madame Brossard, "I think one would call her Spanish, +but she is very fat, not young, and with a great deal too much rouge--" + +She stopped with an audible intake of breath, staring at my friend's +white face. "Eh! it is bad news?" she cried. "And when one has been so +ill--" + +Keredec checked her with an imperious gesture. "Monsieur Saffren and I +leave at once," he said. "I shall meet him on the road; he will not +return to the inn. We go to--to Trouville. See that no one knows that +we have gone until to-morrow, if possible; I shall leave fees for the +servants with you. Go now, prepare your bill, and bring it to me at +once. I shall write you where to send our trunks. Quick! And you, my +friend"--he turned to me as Madame Brossard, obviously distressed and +frightened, but none the less intelligent for that, skurried away to do +his bidding--"my friend, will you help us? For we need it!" + +"Anything in the world!" + +"Go to Pere Baudry's; have him put the least tired of his three horses +to his lightest cart and wait in the road beyond the cottage. Stand in +the road yourself while that is being done. Oliver will come that way; +detain him. I will join you there; I have only to see to my papers--at +the most, twenty minutes. Go quickly, my friend!" + +I strode to the door and out to the gallery. I was half-way down the +steps before I saw that Oliver Saffren was already in the courtyard, +coming toward me from the archway with a light and buoyant step. + +He looked up, waving his hat to me, his face lighted with a happiness +most remarkable, and brighter, even, than the strong, midsummer +sunshine flaming over him. Dressed in white as he was, and with the air +of victory he wore, he might have been, at that moment, a figure from +some marble triumph; youthful, conquering--crowned with the laurel. + +I had time only to glance at him, to "take" him, as it were, between +two shutter-flicks of the instantaneous eyelid, and with him, the +courtyard flooded with sunshine, the figure of Madame Brossard emerging +from her little office, Amedee coming from the kitchen bearing a +white-covered tray, and, entering from the road, upon the trail of +Saffren but still in the shadow of the archway, the discordant fineries +and hatchet-face of the ex-pedestrian and tourist, my antagonist of the +forest. + +I had opened my mouth to call a warning. + +"Hurry" was the word I would have said, but it stopped at "hur--." The +second syllable was never uttered. + +There came a violent outcry, raucous and shrill as the wail of a +captured hen, and out of the passage across the courtyard floundered a +woman, fantastically dressed in green and gold. + +Her coarse blue-black hair fell dishevelled upon her shoulders, from +which her gown hung precariously unfastened, as if she had abandoned +her toilet half-way. She was abundantly fat, double-chinned, coarse, +greasy, smeared with blue pencillings, carmine, enamel, and rouge. + +At the scream Saffren turned. She made straight at him, crying wildly: + +"Enfin! Mon mari, mon mari--c'est moi! C'est ta femme, mon coeur!" + +She threw herself upon him, her arms about his neck, with a tropical +ferocity that was a very paroxysm of triumph. + +"Embrasse moi, Larrabi! Embrasse moi!" she cried. + +Horrified, outraged, his eyes blazing, he flung her off with a violence +surpassing her own, and with loathing unspeakable. She screamed that he +was killing her, calling him "husband," and tried to fasten herself +upon him again. But he leaped backward beyond the reach of her +clutching hands, and, turning, plunged to the steps and staggered up +them, the woman following. + +From above me leaned the stricken face of Keredec; he caught Saffren +under the arm and half lifted him to the gallery, while she strove to +hold him by the knees. + +"O Christ!" gasped Saffren. "Is THIS the woman?" + +The giant swung him across the gallery and into the open door with one +great sweep of the arm, strode in after him, and closed and bolted the +door. The woman fell in a heap at the foot of the steps, uttered a +cracked simulation of the cry of a broken heart. + +"Name of a name of God!" she wailed. "After all these years! And my +husband strikes me!" + +Then it was that what had been in my mind as a monstrous suspicion +became a certainty. For I recognised the woman; she was Mariana--la +bella Mariana la Mursiana. + +If I had ever known Larrabee Harman, if, instead of the two strange +glimpses I had caught of him, I had been familiar with his gesture, +walk, intonation--even, perhaps, if I had ever heard his voice--the +truth might have come to me long ago. + +Larrabee Harman! + +"Oliver Saffren" was Larrabee Harman. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +I do not like to read those poets who write of pain as if they loved +it; the study of suffering is for the cold analyst, for the +vivisectionist, for those who may transfuse their knowledge of it to +the ultimate good of mankind. And although I am so heavily endowed with +curiosity concerning the people I find about me, my gift (or curse, +whichever it be) knows pause at the gates of the house of calamity. So, +if it were possible, I would not speak of the agony of which I was a +witness that night in the apartment of my friends at Madame Brossard's. +I went with reluctance, but there was no choice. Keredec had sent for +me. + +... When I was about fifteen, a boy cousin of mine, several years +younger, terribly injured himself on the Fourth of July; and I sat all +night in the room with him, helping his mother. Somehow he had learned +that there was no hope of saving his sight; he was an imaginative child +and realised the whole meaning of the catastrophe; the eternal +darkness.... And he understood that the thing had been done, that there +was no going back of it. This very certainty increased the intensity of +his rebellion a thousandfold. "I WILL have my eyes!" he screamed. "I +WILL! I WILL!" + +Keredec had told his tragic ward too little. The latter had understood +but vaguely the nature of the catastrophe which overhung his return to +France, and now that it was indeed concrete and definite, the guardian +was forced into fuller disclosures, every word making the anguish of +the listener more intolerable. It was the horizonless despair of a +child; and that profound protest I had so often seen smouldering in his +eyes culminated, at its crisis, in a wild flame of revolt. The shame of +the revelation passed over him; there was nothing of the disastrous +drunkard, sober, learning what he had done. To him, it seemed that he +was being forced to suffer for the sins of another man. + +"Do you think that you can make me believe _I_ did this?" he cried. +"That I made life unbearable for HER, drove HER from me, and took this +hideous, painted old woman in HER place? It's a lie. You can't make me +believe such a monstrous lie as that! You CAN'T! You CAN'T!" + +He threw himself violently upon the couch, face downward, shuddering +from head to foot. + +"My poor boy, it is the truth," said Keredec, kneeling beside him and +putting a great arm across his shoulders. "It is what a thousand men +are doing this night. Nothing is more common, or more unexplainable--or +more simple. Of all the nations it is the same, wherever life has +become artificial and the poor, foolish young men have too much money +and nothing to do. You do not understand it, but our friend here, and +I, we understand because we remember what we have been seeing all our +life. You say it is not you who did such crazy, horrible things, and +you are right. When this poor woman who is so painted and greasy first +caught you, when you began to give your money and your time and your +life to her, when she got you into this horrible marriage with her, you +were blind--you went staggering, in a bad dream; your soul hid away, +far down inside you, with its hands over its face. If it could have +once stood straight, if the eyes of your body could have once been +clean for it to look through, if you could have once been as you are +to-day, or as you were when you were a little child, you would have cry +out with horror both of her and of yourself, as you do now; and you +would have run away from her and from everything you had put in your +life. But, in your suffering you must rejoice: the triumph is that your +mind hates that old life as greatly as your soul hates it. You are as +good as if you had never been the wild fellow--yes, the wicked +fellow--that you were. For a man who shakes off his sin is clean; he +stands as pure as if he had never sinned. But though his emancipation +can be so perfect, there is a law that he cannot escape from the result +of all the bad and foolish things he has done, for every act, every +breath you draw, is immortal, and each has a consequence that is never +ending. And so, now, though you are purified, the suffering from these +old actions is here, and you must abide it. Ah, but that is a little +thing, nothing!--that suffering--compared to what you have gained, for +you have gained your own soul!" + +The desperate young man on the couch answered only with the sobbing of +a broken-hearted child. + +I came back to my pavilion after midnight, but I did not sleep, though +I lay upon my bed until dawn. Then I went for a long, hard walk, +breakfasted at Dives, and begged a ride back to Madame Brossard's in a +peasant's cart which was going that way. + +I found George Ward waiting for me on the little veranda of the +pavilion, looking handsomer and more prosperously distinguished and +distinguishedly prosperous and generally well-conditioned than ever--as +I told him. + +"I have some news for you," he said after the hearty greeting--"an +announcement, in fact." + +"Wait!" I glanced at the interested attitude of Mr. Earl Percy, who was +breakfasting at a table significantly near the gallery steps, and led +the way into the pavilion. "You may as well not tell it in the hearing +of that young man," I said, when the door was closed. "He is eccentric." + +"So I gathered," returned Ward, smiling, "from his attire. But it +really wouldn't matter who heard it. Elizabeth's going to marry Cresson +Ingle." + +"That is the news--the announcement--you spoke of?" + +"Yes, that is it." + +To save my life I could not have told at that moment what else I had +expected, or feared, that he might say, but certainly I took a deep +breath of relief. "I am very glad," I said. "It should be a happy +alliance." + +"On the whole, I think it will be," he returned thoughtfully. "Ingle's +done his share of hard living, and I once had a notion"--he glanced +smiling at me--"well, I dare say you know my notion. But it is a good +match for Elizabeth and not without advantages on many counts. You see, +it's time I married, myself; she feels that very strongly and I think +her decision to accept Ingle is partly due to her wish to make all +clear for a new mistress of my household,--though that's putting it in +a rather grandiloquent way." He laughed. "And as you probably guess, I +have an idea that some such arrangement might be somewhere on the wings +of the wind on its way to me, before long." + +He laughed again, but I did not, and noting my silence he turned upon +me a more scrutinising look than he had yet given me, and said: + +"My dear fellow, is something the matter? You look quite haggard. You +haven't been ill?" + +"No, I've had a bad night. That's all." + +"Oh, I heard something of a riotous scene taking place over here," he +said. "One of the gardeners was talking about it to Elizabeth. Your bad +night wouldn't be connected with that, would it? You haven't been +playing Samaritan?" + +"What was it you heard?" I asked quickly. + +"I didn't pay much attention. He said that there was great excitement +at Madame Brossard's, because a strange woman had turned up and claimed +an insane young man at the inn for her husband, and that they had a +fight of some sort--" + +"Damnation!" I started from my chair. "Did Mrs. Harman hear this story?" + +"Not last night, I'm certain. Elizabeth said the gardener told her as +she came down to the chateau gates to meet me when I arrived--it was +late, and Louise had already gone to her room. In fact, I have not seen +her yet. But what difference could it possibly make whether she heard +it or not? She doesn't know these people, surely?" + +"She knows the man." + +"This insane--" + +"He is not insane," I interrupted. "He has lost the memory of his +earlier life--lost it through an accident. You and I saw the accident." + +"That's impossible," said George, frowning. "I never saw but one +accident that you--" + +"That was the one: the man is Larrabee Harman." + +George had struck a match to light a cigar; but the operation remained +incomplete: he dropped the match upon the floor and set his foot upon +it. "Well, tell me about it," he said. + +"You haven't heard anything about him since the accident?" + +"Only that he did eventually recover and was taken away from the +hospital. I heard that his mind was impaired. Does Louise--" he began; +stopped, and cleared his throat. "Has Mrs. Harman heard that he is +here?" + +"Yes; she has seen him." + +"Do you mean the scoundrel has been bothering her? Elizabeth didn't +tell me of this--" + +"Your sister doesn't know," I said, lifting my hand to check him. "I +think you ought to understand the whole case--if you'll let me tell you +what I know about it." + +"Go ahead," he bade me. "I'll try to listen patiently, though the very +thought of the fellow has always set my teeth on edge." + +"He's not at all what you think," I said. "There's an enormous +difference, almost impossible to explain to you, but something you'd +understand at once if you saw him. It's such a difference, in fact, +that when I found that he was Larrabee Harman the revelation was +inexpressibly shocking and distressing to me. He came here under +another name; I had no suspicion that he was any one I'd ever heard of, +much less that I'd actually seen him twice, two years ago, and I've +grown to--well, in truth, to be fond of him." + +"What is the change?" asked Ward, and his voice showed that he was +greatly disquieted. "What is he like?" + +"As well as I can tell you, he's like an odd but very engaging boy, +with something pathetic about him; quite splendidly handsome--" + +"Oh, he had good looks to spare when I first knew him," George said +bitterly. "I dare say he's got them back if he's taken care of himself, +or been taken care OF, rather! But go on; I won't interrupt you again. +Why did he come here? Hoping to see--" + +"No. When he came here he did not know of her existence except in the +vaguest way. But to go back to that, I'd better tell you first that the +woman we saw with him, one day on the boulevard, and who was in the +accident with him--" + +"La Mursiana, the dancer; I know." + +"She had got him to go through a marriage with her--" + +"WHAT?" Ward's eyes flashed as he shouted the word. + +"It seems inexplicable; but as I understand it, he was never quite +sober at that time; he had begun to use drugs, and was often in a +half-stupefied condition. As a matter of fact, the woman did what she +pleased with him. There's no doubt about the validity of the marriage. +And what makes it so desperate a muddle is that since the marriage +she's taken good care to give no grounds upon which a divorce could be +obtained for Harman. She means to hang on." + +"I'm glad of that!" said George, striking his knee with his open palm. +"That will go a great way toward--" + +He paused, and asked suddenly: "Did this marriage take place in France?" + +"Yes. You'd better hear me through," I remonstrated. "When he was taken +from the hospital, he was placed in charge of a Professor Keredec, a +madman of whom you've probably heard." + +"Madman? Why, no; he's a member of the Institute; a psychologist or +metaphysician, isn't he?--at any rate of considerable celebrity." + +"Nevertheless," I insisted grimly, "as misty a vapourer as I ever saw; +a poetic, self-contradicting and inconsistent orator, a blower of +bubbles, a seer of visions, a mystic, and a dreamer--about as +scientific as Alice's White Knight! Harman's aunt, who lived in London, +the only relative he had left, I believe--and she has died since--put +him in Keredec's charge, and he was taken up into the Tyrol and +virtually hidden for two years, the idea being literally to give him +something like an education--Keredec's phrase is 'restore mind to his +soul'! What must have been quite as vital was to get him out of his +horrible wife's clutches. And they did it, for she could not find him. +But she picked up that rat in the garden out yonder--he'd been some +sort of stable-manager for Harman once--and set him on the track. He +ran the poor boy down, and yesterday she followed him. Now it amounts +to a species of sordid siege." + +"She wants money, of course." + +"Yes, MORE money; a fair allowance has always been sent to her. Keredec +has interviewed her notary and she wants a settlement, naming a sum +actually larger than the whole estate amounts to. There were colossal +expenditures and equally large shrinkages; what he has left is invested +in English securities and is not a fortune, but of course she won't +believe that and refuses to budge until this impossible settlement is +made. You can imagine about how competent such a man as Keredec would +be to deal with the situation. In the mean time, his ward is in so +dreadful a state of horror and grief I am afraid it is possible that +his mind may really give way, for it was not in a normal condition, of +course, though he's perfectly sane, as I tell you. If it should," I +concluded, with some bitterness, "I suppose Keredec will be still +prating upliftingly on the saving of his soul!" + +"When was it that Louise saw him?" + +"Ah, that," I said, "is where Keredec has been a poet and a dreamer +indeed. It was his PLAN that they should meet." + +"You mean he brought this wreck of Harman, these husks and shreds of a +man, down here for Louise to see?" Ward cried incredulously. "Oh, +monstrous!" + +"No," I answered. "Only insane. Not because there is anything lacking +in Oliver--in Harman, I mean--for I think that will be righted in time, +but because the second marriage makes it a useless cruelty that he +should have been allowed to fall in love with his first wife again. Yet +that was Keredec's idea of a 'beautiful restoration,' as he calls it!" + +"There is something behind all this that you don't know," said Ward +slowly. "I'll tell you after I've seen this Keredec. When did the man +make you his confidant?" + +"Last night. Most of what I learned was as much a revelation to his +victim as it was to me. Harman did not know till then that the lady he +had been meeting had been his wife, or that he had ever seen her before +he came here. He had mistaken her name and she did not enlighten him." + +"Meeting?" said Ward harshly. "You speak as if--" + +"They have been meeting every day, George." + +"I won't believe it of her!" he cried. "She couldn't--" + +"It's true. He spoke to her in the woods one day; I was there and saw +it. I know now that she knew him at once; and she ran away, but--not in +anger. I shouldn't be a very good friend of yours," I went on gently, +"if I didn't give you the truth. They've been together every day since +then, and I'm afraid--miserably afraid, Ward--that her old feeling for +him has been revived." + +I have heard Ward use an oath only two or three times in my life, and +this was one of them. + +"Oh, by God!" he cried, starting to his feet; "I SHOULD like to meet +Professor Keredec!" + +"I am at your service, my dear sir," said a deep voice from the +veranda. And opening the door, the professor walked into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +He looked old and tired and sad; it was plain that he expected attack +and equally plain that he would meet it with fanatic serenity. And yet, +the magnificent blunderer presented so fine an aspect of the tortured +Olympian, he confronted us with so vast a dignity--the driven snow of +his hair tousled upon his head and shoulders, like a storm in the +higher altitudes--that he regained, in my eyes, something of his +mountain grandeur before he had spoken a word in defence. But sympathy +is not what one should be entertaining for an antagonist; therefore I +said cavalierly: + +"This is Mr. Ward, Professor Keredec. He is Mrs. Harman's cousin and +close friend." + +"I had divined it." The professor made a French bow, and George +responded with as slight a salutation as it has been my lot to see. + +"We were speaking of your reasons," I continued, "for bringing Mr. +Harman to this place. Frankly, we were questioning your motive." + +"My motives? I have wished to restore to two young people the paradise +which they had lost". + +Ward uttered an exclamation none the less violent because it was +half-suppressed, while, for my part, I laughed outright; and as Keredec +turned his eyes questioningly upon me, I said: + +"Professor Keredec, you'd better understand at once that I mean to help +undo the harm you've done. I couldn't tell you last night, in Harman's +presence, but I think you're responsible for the whole ghastly +tragi-comedy--as hopeless a tangle as ever was made on this earth!" + +This was even more roughly spoken than I had intended, but it did not +cause him to look less mildly upon me, nor was there the faintest +shadow of resentment in his big voice when he replied: + +"In this world things may be tangled, they may be sad, yet they may be +good." + +"I'm afraid that seems rather a trite generality. I beg you to remember +that plain-speaking is of some importance just now." + +"I shall remember." + +"Then we should be glad of the explanation," said Ward, resting his +arms on my table and leaning across it toward Keredec. + +"We should, indeed," I echoed. + +"It is simple," began the professor. "I learned my poor boy's history +well, from those who could tell me, from his papers--yes, and from the +bundles of old-time letters which were given me--since it was necessary +that I should know everything. From all these I learned what a strong +and beautiful soul was that lady who loved him so much that she ran +away from her home for his sake. Helas! he was already the slave of +what was bad and foolish, he had gone too far from himself, was +overlaid with the habit of evil, and she could not save him then. The +spirit was dying in him, although it was there, and IT was good--" + +Ward's acrid laughter rang out in the room, and my admiration went +unwillingly to Keredec for the way he took it, which was to bow +gravely, as if acknowledging the other's right to his own point of view. + +"If you will study the antique busts," he said, "you will find that +Socrates is Silenus dignified. I choose to believe in the infinite +capacities of all men--and in the spirit in all. And so I try to +restore my poor boy his capacities and his spirit. But that was not +all. The time was coming when I could do no more for him, when the +little education of books would be finish' and he must go out in the +world again to learn--all newly--how to make of himself a man of use. +That is the time of danger, and the thought was troubling me when I +learned that Madame Harman was here, near this inn, of which I knew. So +I brought him." + +"The inconceivable selfishness, the devilish brutality of it!" Ward's +face was scarlet. "You didn't care how you sacrificed her--" + +"Sacrificed!" The professor suddenly released the huge volume of his +voice. "Sacrificed!" he thundered. "If I could give him back to her as +he is now, it would be restoring to her all that she had loved in him, +the real SELF of him! It would be the greatest gift in her life." + +"You speak for her?" demanded Ward, the question coming like a +lawyer's. It failed to disturb Keredec, who replied quietly: + +"It is a quibble. I speak for her, yes, my dear sir. Her action in +defiance of her family and her friends proved the strength of what she +felt for the man she married; that she have remained with him three +years--until it was impossible--proved its persistence; her letters, +which I read with reverence, proved its beauty--to me. It was a living +passion, one that could not die. To let them see each other again; that +was all I intended. To give them their new chance--and then, for +myself, to keep out of the way. That was why--" he turned to me--"that +was why I have been guilty of pretending to have that bad rheumatism, +and I hope you will not think it an ugly trick of me! It was to give +him his chance freely; and though at first I had much anxiety, it was +done. In spite of all his wicked follies theirs had been a true love, +and nothing in this world could be more inevitable than that they +should come together again if the chance could be given. And they HAVE, +my dear sirs! It has so happened. To him it has been a wooing as if for +the first time; so she has preferred it, keeping him to his mistake of +her name. She feared that if he knew that it was the same as his own he +might ask questions of me, and, you see, she did not know that I had +made this little plan, and was afraid--" + +"We are not questioning Mrs. Harman's motives," George interrupted +hotly, "but YOURS!" + +"Very well, my dear sir; that is all. I have explained them." + +"You have?" I interjected. "Then, my dear Keredec, either you are +really insane or I am! You knew that this poor, unfortunate devil of a +Harman was tied to that hyenic prowler yonder who means to fatten on +him, and will never release him; you knew that. Then why did you bring +him down here to fall in love with a woman he can never have? In pity's +name, if you didn't hope to half kill them both, what DID you mean?" + +"My dear fellow," interposed George quickly, "you underrate Professor +Keredec's shrewdness. His plans are not so simple as you think. He +knows that my cousin Louise never obtained a divorce from her husband." + +"What?" I said, not immediately comprehending his meaning. + +"I say, Mrs. Harman never obtained a divorce." + +"Are you delirious?" I gasped. + +"It's the truth; she never did." + +"I saw a notice of it at the time. 'A notice?' I saw a hundred!" + +"No. What you saw was that she had made an application for divorce. Her +family got her that far and then she revolted. The suit was dropped." + +"It is true, indeed," said Keredec. "The poor boy was on the other side +of the world, and he thought it was granted. He had been bad before, +but from that time he cared nothing what became of him. That was the +reason this Spanish woman--" + +I turned upon him sharply. "YOU knew it?" + +"It is a year that I have known it; when his estate was--" + +"Then why didn't you tell me last night?" + +"My dear sir, I could not in HIS presence, because it is one thing I +dare not let him know. This Spanish woman is so hideous, her claim upon +him is so horrible to him I could not hope to control him--he would +shout it out to her that she cannot call him husband. God knows what he +would do!" + +"Well, why shouldn't he shout it out to her?" + +"You do not understand," George interposed again, "that what Professor +Keredec risked for his 'poor boy,' in returning to France, was a trial +on the charge of bigamy!" + +The professor recoiled from the definite brutality. "My dear sir! It is +not possible that such a thing can happen." + +"I conceive it very likely to happen," said George, "unless you get him +out of the country before the lady now installed here as his wife +discovers the truth." + +"But she must not!" Keredec lifted both hands toward Ward appealingly; +they trembled, and his voice betrayed profound agitation. "She cannot! +She has never suspected such a thing; there is nothing that could MAKE +her suspect it!" + +"One particular thing would be my telling her," said Ward quietly. + +"Never!" cried the professor, stepping back from him. "You could not do +that!" + +"I not only could, but I will, unless you get him out of the +country--and quickly!" + +"George!" I exclaimed, coming forward between them. "This won't do at +all. You can't--" + +"That's enough," he said, waving me back, and I saw that his hand was +shaking, too, like Keredec's. His face had grown very white; but he +controlled himself to speak with a coolness that made what he said +painfully convincing. "I know what you think," he went on, addressing +me, "but you're wrong. It isn't for myself. When I sailed for New York +in the spring I thought there was a chance that she would carry out the +action she begun four years ago and go through the form of ridding +herself of him definitely; that is, I thought there was some hope for +me; I believed there was until this morning. But I know better now. If +she's seen him again, and he's been anything except literally +unbearable, it's all over with ME. From the first, I never had a chance +against him; he was a hard rival, even when he'd become only a cruel +memory." His voice rose. "I've lived a sober, decent life, and I've +treated HER with gentleness and reverence since she was born, and HE'S +done nothing but make a stew-pan of his life and neglect and betray her +when he had her. Heaven knows why it is; it isn't because of anything +he's done or has, it's just because it's HIM, I suppose, but I know my +chance is gone for good! THAT leaves me free to act for her; no one can +accuse me of doing it for myself. And I swear she sha'n't go through +that slough of despond again while I have breath in my body!" + +"Steady, George!" I said. + +"Oh, I'm steady enough," he cried. "Professor Keredec shall be +convinced of it! My cousin is not going into the mire again; she shall +be freed of it for ever: I speak as her relative now, the +representative of her family and of those who care for her happiness +and good. Now she SHALL make the separation definite--and LEGAL! And +let Professor Keredec get his 'poor boy' out of the country. Let him do +it quickly! I make it as a condition of my not informing the woman +yonder and her lawyer. And by my hope of salvation I warn you--" + +"George, for pity's sake!" I shouted, throwing my arm about his +shoulders, for his voice had risen to a pitch of excitement and fury +that I feared must bring the whole place upon us. He caught himself up +suddenly, stared at me blankly for a moment, then sank into a chair +with a groan. As he did so I became aware of a sound that had been +worrying my subconsciousness for an indefinite length of time, and +realised what it was. Some one was knocking for admission. + +I crossed the room and opened the door. Miss Elizabeth stood there, +red-faced and flustered, and behind her stood Mr. Cresson Ingle, who +looked dubiously amused. + +"Ah--come in," I said awkwardly. "George is here. Let me present +Professor Keredec--" + +"'George is here!'" echoed Miss Elizabeth, interrupting, and paying no +attention whatever to an agitated bow on the part of the professor. "I +should say he WAS! They probably know THAT all the way to Trouville!" + +"We were discussing--" I began. + +"Ah, I know what you were discussing," she said impatiently. "Come in, +Cresson." She turned to Mr. Ingle, who was obviously reluctant. "It is +a family matter, and you'll have to go through with it now." + +"That reminds me," I said. "May I offer--" + +"Not now!" Miss Elizabeth cut short a rather embarrassed handshake +which her betrothed and I were exchanging. "I'm in a very nervous and +distressed state of mind, as I suppose we all are, for that matter. +This morning I learned the true situation over here; and I'm afraid +Louise has heard; at least she's not at Quesnay. I got into a panic for +fear she had come here, but thank heaven she does not seem to--Good +gracious! What's THAT?" + +It was the discordant voice of Mariana la Mursiana, crackling in +strident protest. My door was still open; I turned to look and saw her, +hot-faced, tousle-haired, insufficiently wrapped, striving to ascend +the gallery steps, but valiantly opposed by Madame Brossard, who stood +in the way. + +"But NO, madame," insisted Madame Brossard, excited but darkly +determined. "You cannot ascend. There is nothing on the upper floor of +this wing except the apartment of Professor Keredec." + +"Name of a dog!" shrilled the other. "It is my husband's apartment, I +tell you. Il y a une femme avec lui!" + +"It is Madame Harman who is there," said Keredec hoarsely in my ear. "I +came away and left them together." + +"Come," I said, and, letting the others think what they would, sprang +across the veranda, the professor beside me, and ran toward the two +women who were beginning to struggle with more than their tongues. I +leaped by them and up the steps, but Keredec thrust himself between our +hostess and her opponent, planting his great bulk on the lowest step. +Glancing hurriedly over my shoulder, I saw the Spanish woman strike him +furiously upon the breast with both hands, but I knew she would never +pass him. + +I entered the salon of the "Grande Suite," and closed the door quickly +behind me. + +Louise Harman was standing at the other end of the room; she wore the +pretty dress of white and lilac and the white hat. She looked cool and +beautiful and good, and there were tears in her eyes. To come into this +quiet chamber and see her so, after the hot sunshine and tawdry scene +below, was like leaving the shouting market-place for a shadowy chapel. + +Her husband was kneeling beside her; he held one of her hands in both +his, her other rested upon his head; and something in their attitudes +made me know I had come in upon their leave-taking. But from the face +he lifted toward her all trace of his tragedy had passed: the wonder +and worship written there left no room for anything else. + +"Mrs. Harman--" I began. + +"Yes?" she said. "I am coming." + +"But I don't want you to. I've come for fear you would, and you--you +must not," I stammered. "You must wait." + +"Why?" + +"It's necessary," I floundered. "There is a scene--" + +"I know," she said quietly. "THAT must be, of course." + +Harman rose, and she took both his hands, holding them against her +breast. + +"My dear," she said gently,--"my dearest, you must stay. Will you +promise not to pass that door, even, until you have word from me again?" + +"Yes," he answered huskily, "if you'll promise it SHALL come--some day?" + +"It shall, indeed. Be sure of it." + +I had turned away, but I heard the ghost of his voice whispering +"good-bye." Then she was beside me and opening the door. + +I tried to stay her. + +"Mrs. Harman," I urged, "I earnestly beg you--" + +"No," she answered, "this is better." + +She stepped out upon the gallery; I followed, and she closed the door. +Upon the veranda of my pavilion were my visitors from Quesnay, staring +up at us apprehensively; Madame Brossard and Keredec still held the +foot of the steps, but la Mursiana had abandoned the siege, and, +accompanied by Mr. Percy and Rameau, the black-bearded notary, who had +joined her, was crossing the garden toward her own apartment. + +At the sound of the closing door, she glanced over her shoulder, sent +forth a scream, and, whirling about, ran viciously for the steps, where +she was again blocked by the indomitable Keredec. + +"Ah, you foolish woman, I know who you are," she cried, stepping back +from him to shake a menacing hand at the quiet lady by my side. "You +want to get yourself into trouble! That man in the room up there has +been my husband these two years and more." + +"No, madame," said Louise Harman, "you are mistaken; he is my husband." + +"But you divorced him," vociferated the other wildly. "You divorced him +in America!" + +"No. You are mistaken," the quiet voice replied. "The suit was +withdrawn. He is still my husband." + +I heard the professor's groan of despair, but it was drowned in the +wild shriek of Mariana. "WHAT? You tell ME that? Ah, the miserable! If +what you say is true, he shall pay bitterly! He shall wish that he had +died by fire! What! You think he can marry ME, break my leg so that I +cannot dance again, ruin my career, and then go away with a pretty +woman like you and be happy? Aha, there are prisons in France for +people who marry two like that; I do not know what they do in YOUR +barbaric country, but they are decent people over here and they punish. +He shall pay for it in suffering--" her voice rose to an incredible and +unbearable shriek--"and you, YOU shall pay, too! You can't come +stealing honest women's husbands like that. You shall PAY!" + +I saw George Ward come running forward with his hand upraised in a +gesture of passionate warning, for Mrs. Harman, unnoticed by me--I was +watching the Spanish woman--had descended the steps and had passed +Keredec, walking straight to Mariana. I leaped down after her, my heart +in my throat, fearing a thousand things. + +"You must not talk like that," she said, not lifting her voice--yet +every one in the courtyard heard her distinctly. "You can do neither of +us any harm in the world." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +It is impossible to say what Mariana would have done had there been no +interference, for she had worked herself into one of those furies which +women of her type can attain when they feel the occasion demands it, a +paroxysm none the less dangerous because its foundation is histrionic. +But Rameau threw his arms about her; Mr. Percy came hastily to his +assistance, and Ward and I sprang in between her and the too-fearless +lady she strove to reach. Even at that, the finger-nails of Mariana's +right hand touched the pretty white hat--but only touched it and no +more. + +Rameau and the little spy managed to get their vociferating burden +across the courtyard and into her own door, where she suddenly +subsided, disappearing within the passage to her apartment in +unexpected silence--indubitably a disappointment to the interested +Amedee, to Glouglou, Francois, and the whole personnel of the inn, who +hastened to group themselves about the door in attentive attitudes. + +"In heaven's name," gasped Miss Elizabeth, seizing her cousin by the +arm, "come into the pavilion. Here's the whole world looking at us!" + +"Professor Keredec--" Mrs. Harman began, resisting, and turning to the +professor appealingly. + +"Oh, let him come too!" said Miss Elizabeth desperately. "Nothing could +be worse than this!" + +She led the way back to the pavilion, and, refusing to consider a +proposal on the part of Mr. Ingle and myself to remain outside, entered +the room last, herself, producing an effect of "shooing" the rest of us +in; closed the door with surprising force, relapsed in a chair, and +burst into tears. + +"Not a soul at Quesnay," sobbed the mortified chatelaine--"not one but +will know this before dinner! They'll hear the whole thing within two +hours." + +"Isn't there any way of stopping that, at least?" Ward said to me. + +"None on earth, unless you go home at once and turn your visitors and +THEIR servants out of the house," I answered. + +"There is nothing they shouldn't know," said Mrs. Harman. + +George turned to her with a smile so bravely managed that I was proud +of him. "Oh, yes, there is," he said. "We're going to get you out of +all this." + +"All this?" she repeated. + +"All this MIRE!" he answered. "We're going to get you out of it and +keep you out of it, now, for good. I don't know whether your revelation +to the Spanish woman will make that easier or harder, but I do know +that it makes the mire deeper." + +"For whom?" + +"For Harman. But you sha'n't share it!" + +Her anxious eyes grew wider. "How have I made it deeper for him? Wasn't +it necessary that the poor woman should be told the truth?" + +"Professor Keredec seemed to think it important that she shouldn't." + +She turned to Keredec with a frightened gesture and an unintelligible +word of appeal, as if entreating him to deny what George had said. The +professor's beard was trembling; he looked haggard; an almost pitiable +apprehension hung upon his eyelids; but he came forward manfully. + +"Madame," he said, "you could never in your life do anything that would +make harm. You were right to speak, and I had short sight to fear, +since it was the truth." + +"But why did you fear it?" + +"It was because--" he began, and hesitated. + +"I must know the reason," she urged. "I must know just what I've done." + +"It was because," he repeated, running a nervous hand through his +beard, "because the knowledge would put us so utterly in this people's +power. Already they demand more than we could give them; now they can--" + +"They can do what?" she asked tremulously. + +His eyes rested gently on her blanched and stricken face. "Nothing, my +dear lady," he answered, swallowing painfully. "Nothing that will last. +I am an old man. I have seen and I have--I have thought. And I tell you +that only the real survives; evil actions are some phantoms that +disappear. They must not trouble us." + +"That is a high plane," George intervened, and he spoke without +sarcasm. "To put it roughly, these people have been asking more than +the Harman estate is worth; that was on the strength of the woman's +claim as a wife; but now they know she is not one, her position is +immensely strengthened, for she has only to go before the nearest +Commissaire de Police--" + +"Oh, no!" Mrs. Harman cried passionately. "I haven't done THAT! You +mustn't tell me I have. You MUSTN'T!" + +"Never!" he answered. "There could not be a greater lie than to say you +have done it. The responsibility is with the wretched and vicious boy +who brought the catastrophe upon himself. But don't you see that you've +got to keep out of it, that we've got to take you out of it?" + +"You can't! I'm part of it; better or worse, it's as much mine as his." + +"No, no!" cried Miss Elizabeth. "YOU mustn't tell us THAT!" Still +weeping, she sprang up and threw her arms about her brother. "It's too +horrible of you--" + +"It is what I must tell you," Mrs. Harman said. "My separation from my +husband is over. I shall be with him now for--" + +"I won't listen to you!" Miss Elizabeth lifted her wet face from +George's shoulder, and there was a note of deep anger in her voice. +"You don't know what you're talking about; you haven't the faintest +idea of what a hideous situation that creature has made for himself. +Don't you know that that awful woman was right, and there are laws in +France? When she finds she can't get out of him all she wants, do you +think she's going to let him off? I suppose she struck you as being +quite the sort who'd prove nobly magnanimous! Are you so blind you +don't see exactly what's going to happen? She'll ask twice as much now +as she did before; and the moment it's clear that she isn't going to +get it, she'll call in an agent of police. She'll get her money in a +separate suit and send him to prison to do it. The case against him is +positive; there isn't a shadow of hope for him. You talk of being with +him; don't you see how preposterous that is? Do you imagine they +encourage family housekeeping in French prisons?" + +"Oh, come, this won't do!" The speaker was Cresson Ingle, who stepped +forward, to my surprise; for he had been hovering in the background +wearing an expression of thorough discomfort. + +"You're going much too far," he said, touching his betrothed upon the +arm. "My dear Elizabeth, there is no use exaggerating; the case is +unpleasant enough just as it is." + +"In what have I exaggerated?" she demanded. + +"Why, I KNEW Larrabee Harman," he returned. "I knew him fairly well. I +went as far as Honolulu with him, when he and some of his heelers +started round the world; and I remember that papers were served on him +in San Francisco. Mrs. Harman had made her application; it was just +before he sailed. About a year and a half or two years later I met him +again, in Paris. He was in pretty bad shape; seemed hypnotised by this +Mariana and afraid as death of her; she could go into a tantrum that +would frighten him into anything. It was a joke--down along the line of +the all-night dancers and cafes--that she was going to marry him; and +some one told me afterward that she claimed to have brought it about. I +suppose it's true; but there is no question of his having married her +in good faith. He believed that the divorce had been granted; he'd +offered no opposition to it whatever. He was travelling continually, +and I don't think he knew much of what was going on, even right around +him, most of the time. He began with cognac and absinthe in the +morning, you know. For myself, I always supposed the suit had been +carried through; so did people generally, I think. He'll probably have +to stand trial, and of course he's technically guilty, but I don't +believe he'd be convicted--though I must say it would have been a most +devilish good thing for him if he could have been got out of France +before la Mursiana heard the truth. Then he could have made terms with +her safely at a distance--she'd have been powerless to injure him and +would have precious soon come to time and been glad to take whatever +he'd give her. NOW, I suppose, that's impossible, and they'll arrest +him if he tries to budge. But this talk of prison and all that is +nonsense, my dear Elizabeth!" + +"You admit there is a chance of it!" she retorted. + +"I've said all I had to say," returned Mr. Ingle with a dubious laugh. +"And if you don't mind, I believe I'll wait for you outside, in the +machine. I want to look at the gear-box." + +He paused, as if in deference to possible opposition, and, none being +manifested, went hastily from the room with a sigh of relief, giving +me, as he carefully closed the door, a glance of profound commiseration +over his shoulder. + +Miss Elizabeth had taken her brother's hand, not with the effect of +clinging for sympathy; nor had her throwing her arms about him produced +that effect; one could as easily have imagined Brunhilda hiding her +face in a man's coat-lapels. George's sister wept, not weakly: she was +on the defensive, but not for herself. + +"Does the fact that he may possibly escape going to prison"--she +addressed her cousin--"make his position less scandalous, or can it +make the man himself less detestable?" + +Mrs. Harman looked at her steadily. There was a long and sorrowful +pause. + +"Nothing is changed," she said finally; her eyes still fixed gravely on +Miss Elizabeth's. + +At that, the other's face flamed up, and she uttered a half-choked +exclamation. "Oh," she cried--"you've fallen in love with playing the +martyr; it's SELF-love! You SEE yourself in the role! No one on earth +could make me believe you're in LOVE with this degraded imbecile--all +that's left of the wreck of a vicious life! It isn't that! It's because +you want to make a shining example of yourself; you want to get down on +your knees and wash off the vileness from this befouled creature; you +want--" + +"Madame!" Keredec interrupted tremendously, "you speak out of no +knowledge!" He leaned toward her across the table, which shook under +the weight of his arms. "There is no vileness; no one who is clean +remains befouled because of the things that are gone." + +"They do not?" She laughed hysterically, and for my part, I sighed in +despair--for there was no stopping him. + +"They do not, indeed! Do you know the relation of TIME to this little +life of ours? We have only the present moment; your consciousness of +that is your existence. Your knowledge of each present moment as it +passes--and it passes so swiftly that each word I speak now overlaps +it--yet it is all we have. For all the rest, for what has gone by and +what is yet coming--THAT has no real existence; it is all a dream. It +is not ALIVE. It IS not! It IS--nothing! So the soul that stands clean +and pure to-day IS clean and pure--and that is all there is to say +about that soul!" + +"But a soul with evil tendencies," Ward began impatiently, "if one must +meet you on your own ground--" + +"Ha! my dear sir, those evil tendencies would be in the soiling +memories, and my boy is free from them." + +"He went toward all that was soiling before. Surely you can't pretend +he may not take that direction again?" + +"That," returned the professor quickly, "is his to choose. If this lady +can be with him now, he will choose right." + +"So!" cried Miss Elizabeth, "you offer her the role of a guide, do you? +First she is to be his companion through a trial for bigamy in a French +court, and, if he is acquitted, his nurse, teacher, and moral +preceptor?" She turned swiftly to her cousin. "That's YOUR conception +of a woman's mission?" + +"I haven't any mission," Mrs. Harman answered quietly. "I've never +thought about missions; I only know I belong to him; that's all I EVER +thought about it. I don't pretend to explain it, or make it seem +reasonable. And when I met him again, here, it was--it was--it was +proved to me." + +"Proved?" echoed Miss Elizabeth incredulously. + +"Yes; proved as certainly as the sun shining proves that it's day." + +"Will you tell us?" + +It was I who asked the question: I spoke involuntarily, but she did not +seem to think it strange that I should ask. + +"Oh, when I first met him," she said tremulously, "I was frightened; +but it was not he who frightened me--it was the rush of my own feeling. +I did not know what I felt, but I thought I might die, and he was so +like himself as I had first known him--but so changed, too; there was +something so wonderful about him, something that must make any stranger +feel sorry for him, and yet it is beautiful--" She stopped for a moment +and wiped her eyes, then went on bravely: "And the next day he came, +and waited for me--I should have come here for him if he hadn't--and I +fell in with the mistake he had made about my name. You see, he'd heard +I was called 'Madame d'Armand,' and I wanted him to keep on thinking +that, for I thought if he knew I was Mrs. Harman he might find out--" +She paused, her lip beginning to tremble. "Oh, don't you see why I +didn't want him to know? I didn't want him to suffer as he would--as he +does now, poor child!--but most of all I wanted--I wanted to see if he +would fall in love with me again! I kept him from knowing, because, if +he thought I was a stranger, and the same thing happened again--his +caring for me, I mean--" She had begun to weep now, freely and openly, +but not from grief. "Oh!" she cried, "don't you SEE how it's all proven +to me?" + +"I see how it has deluded you!" said Miss Elizabeth vehemently. "I see +what a rose-light it has thrown about this creature; but it won't last, +thank God! any more than it did the other time. The thing is for you to +come to your senses before--" + +"Ah, my dear, I have come to them at last and for ever!" The words rang +full and strong, though she was white and shaking, and heavy tears +filled her eyes. "I know what I am doing now, if I never knew before!" + +"You never did know--" Miss Ward began, but George stopped her. + +"Elizabeth!" he said quickly. "We mustn't go on like this; it's more +than any of us can bear. Come, let's get out into the air; let's get +back to Quesnay. We'll have Ingle drive us around the longer way, by +the sea." He turned to his cousin. "Louise, you'll come now? If not, +we'll have to stay here with you." + +"I'll come," she answered, trying bravely to stop the tears that kept +rising in spite of her; "if you'll wait till"--and suddenly she flashed +through them a smile so charming that my heart ached the harder for +George--"till I can stop crying!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Mr. Earl Percy and I sat opposite each other at dinner that evening. +Perhaps, for charity's sake, I should add that though we faced each +other, and, indeed, eyed each other solemnly at intervals, we partook +not of the same repast, having each his own table; his being set in the +garden at his constant station near the gallery steps, and mine, some +fifty feet distant, upon my own veranda, but moved out from behind the +honeysuckle screen, for I sat alone and the night was warm. + +To analyse my impression of Mr. Percy's glances, I cannot +conscientiously record that I found favour in his eyes. For one thing, +I fear he may not have recalled to his bosom a clarion sentiment (which +doubtless he had ofttimes cheered from his native gallery in softer +years): the honourable declaration that many an honest heart beats +beneath a poor man's coat. As for his own attire, he was even as the +lilies of Quesnay; that is to say, I beheld upon him the same formation +of tie that I had seen there, the same sensuous beauty of the state +waistcoat, though I think that his buttons were, if anything, somewhat +spicier than those which had awed me at the chateau. And when we +simultaneously reached the fragrant hour of coffee, the cigarette case +that glittered in his hand was one for which some lady-friend of his (I +knew intuitively) must have given her All--and then been left in debt. + +Amedee had served us both; Glouglou, as aforetime, attending the silent +"Grande Suite," where the curtains were once more tightly drawn. +Monsieur Rameau dined with his client in her own salon, evidently; at +least, Victorine, the femme de chambre, passed to and from the kitchen +in that direction, bearing laden trays. When Mr. Percy's cigarette had +been lighted, hesitation marked the manner of our maitre d'hotel; +plainly he wavered, but finally old custom prevailed; abandoning the +cigarette, he chose the cigar, and, hastily clearing my fashionable +opponent's table, approached the pavilion with his most conversational +face. + +I greeted him indifferently, but with hidden pleasure, for my soul (if +Keredec is right and I have one) lay sorrowing. I needed relief, and +whatever else Amedee was, he was always that. I spoke first: + +"Amedee, how long a walk is it from Quesnay to Pere Baudry's?" + +"Monsieur, about three-quarters of an hour for a good walker, one might +say." + +"A long way for Jean Ferret to go for a cup of cider," I remarked +musingly. + +"Eh? But why should he?" asked Amedee blankly. + +"Why indeed? Surely even a Norman gardener lives for more than cider! +You usually meet him there about noon, I believe?" + +Methought he had the grace to blush, though there is an everlasting +doubt in my mind that it may have been the colour of the candle-shade +producing that illusion. It was a strange thing to see, at all events, +and, taking it for a physiological fact at the time, I let my willing +eyes linger upon it as long as it (or its appearance) was upon him. + +"You were a little earlier than usual to-day," I continued finally, +full of the marvel. + +"Monsieur?" He was wholly blank again. + +"Weren't you there about eleven? Didn't you go about two hours after +Mr. Ward and his friends left here?" + +He scratched his head. "I believe I had an errand in that direction. +Eh? Yes, I remember. Truly, I think it so happened." + +"And you found Jean Ferret there?" + +"Where, monsieur?" + +"At Pere Baudry's." + +"No, monsieur." + +"What?" I exclaimed. + +"No, monsieur." He was firm, somewhat reproachful. + +"You didn't see Jean Ferret this morning?" + +"Monsieur?" + +"Amedee!" + +"Eh, but I did not find him at Pere Baudry's! It may have happened that +I stopped there, but he did not come until some time after." + +"After you had gone away from Pere Baudry's, you mean?" + +"No, monsieur; after I arrived there. Truly." + +"Now we have it! And you gave him the news of all that had happened +here?" + +"Monsieur!" + +A world--no, a constellation, a universe!--of reproach was in the word. + +"I retract the accusation," I said promptly. "I meant something else." + +"Upon everything that takes place at our hotel here, I am silent to all +the world." + +"As the grave!" I said with enthusiasm. "Truly--that is a thing well +known. But Jean Ferret, then? He is not so discreet; I have suspected +that you are in his confidence. At times you have even hinted as much. +Can you tell me if he saw the automobile of Monsieur Ingle when it came +back to the chateau after leaving here?" + +"It had arrived the moment before he departed." + +"Quite SO! I understand," said I. + +"He related to me that Mademoiselle Ward had the appearance of +agitation, and Madame d'Armand that of pallor, which was also the case +with Monsieur Ward." + +"Therefore," I said, "Jean Ferret ran all the way to Pere Baudry's to +learn from you the reason for this agitation and this pallor?" + +"But, monsieur--" + +"I retract again!" I cut him off--to save time. "What other news had +he?" + +There came a gleam into his small, infolded eyes, a tiny glitter +reflecting the mellow candle-light, but changing it, in that +reflection, to a cold and sinister point of steel. It should have +warned me, but, as he paused, I repeated my question. + +"Monsieur, people say everything," he answered, frowning as if +deploring what they said in some secret, particular instance. "The +world is full of idle gossipers, tale-bearers, spreaders of scandal! +And, though I speak with perfect respect, all the people at the chateau +are not perfect in such ways." + +"Do you mean the domestics?" + +"The visitors!" + +"What do they say?" + +"Eh, well, then, they say--but no!" He contrived a masterly pretense of +pained reluctance. "I cannot--" + +"Speak out," I commanded, piqued by his shilly-shallying. "What do they +say?" + +"Monsieur, it is about"--he shifted his weight from one leg to the +other--"it is about--about that beautiful Mademoiselle Elliott who +sometimes comes here." + +This was so far from what I had expected that I was surprised into a +slight change of attitude, which all too plainly gratified him, though +he made an effort to conceal it. "Well," I said uneasily, "what do they +find to say of Mademoiselle Elliott?" + +"They say that her painting is only a ruse to see monsieur." + +"To see Monsieur Saffren, yes." + +"But, no!" he cried. "That is not--" + +"Yes, it is," I assured him calmly. "As you know, Monsieur Saffren is +very, very handsome, and Mademoiselle Elliott, being a painter, is +naturally anxious to look at him from time to time." + +"You are sure?" he said wistfully, even plaintively. "That is not the +meaning Jean Ferret put upon it." + +"He was mistaken." + +"It may be, it may be," he returned, greatly crestfallen, picking up +his tray and preparing to go. "But Jean Ferret was very positive." + +"And I am even more so!" + +"Then that malicious maid of Mademoiselle Ward's was mistaken also," he +sighed, "when she said that now a marriage is to take place between +Mademoiselle Ward and Monsieur Ingle--" + +"Proceed," I bade him. + +He moved a few feet nearer the kitchen. "The malicious woman said to +Jean Ferret--" He paused and coughed. "It was in reference to those +Italian jewels monsieur used to send--" + +"What about them?" I asked ominously. + +"The woman says that Mademoiselle Ward--" he increased the distance +between us--"that now she should give them to Mademoiselle Elliott! +GOOD night, monsieur!" + +His entrance into the kitchen was precipitate. I sank down again into +the wicker chair (from which I had hastily risen) and contemplated the +stars. But the short reverie into which I then fell was interrupted by +Mr. Percy, who, sauntering leisurely about the garden, paused to +address me. + +"You folks thinks you was all to the gud, gittin' them trunks off, +what?" + +"You speak in mysterious numbers," I returned, having no comprehension +of his meaning. + +"I suppose you don' know nothin' about it," he laughed satirically. +"You didn' go over to Lisieux 'saft'noon to ship 'em? Oh, no, not YOU!" + +"I went for a long walk this afternoon, Mr. Percy. Naturally, I +couldn't have walked so far as Lisieux and back." + +"Luk here, m'friend," he said sharply--"I reco'nise 'at you're tryin' +t' play your own hand, but I ast you as man to man: DO you think you +got any chanst t' git that feller off t' Paris?" + +"DO you think it will rain to-night?" I inquired. + +The light of a reflecting lamp which hung on the wall near the archway +enabled me to perceive a bitter frown upon his forehead. "When a +gen'leman asts a question AS a gen'leman," he said, his voice +expressing a noble pathos, "I can't see no call for no other gen'leman +to go an' play the smart Aleck and not answer him." + +In simple dignity he turned his back upon me and strolled to the other +end of the courtyard, leaving me to the renewal of my reverie. + +It was not a happy one. My friends--old and new--I saw inextricably +caught in a tangle of cross-purposes, miserably and hopelessly involved +in a situation for which I could predict no possible relief. I was able +to understand now the beauty as well as the madness of Keredec's plan; +and I had told him so (after the departure of the Quesnay party), +asking his pardon for my brusquerie of the morning. But the towering +edifice his hopes had erected was now tumbled about his ears: he had +failed to elude the Mursiana. There could be no doubt of her absolute +control of the situation. THAT was evident in the every step of the +youth now confidently parading before me. + +Following his active stride with my eye, I observed him in the act of +saluting, with a gracious nod of his bare head, some one, invisible to +me, who was approaching from the road. Immediately after--and +altogether with the air of a person merely "happening in"--a slight +figure, clad in a long coat, a short skirt, and a broad-brimmed, +veil-bound brown hat, sauntered casually through the archway and came +into full view in the light of the reflector. + +I sprang to my feet and started toward her, uttering an exclamation +which I was unable to stifle, though I tried to. + +"Good evening, Mr. Percy," she said cheerily. "It's the most EXUBERANT +night. YOU'RE quite hearty, I hope?" + +"Takin' a walk, I see, little lady," he observed with genial patronage. + +"Oh, not just for that," she returned. "It's more to see HIM." She +nodded to me, and, as I reached her, carelessly gave me her left hand. +"You know I'm studying with him," she continued to Mr. Percy, +exhibiting a sketch-book under her arm. "I dropped over to get a +criticism." + +"Oh, drawin'-lessons?" said Mr. Percy tolerantly. "Well, don' lemme +interrup' ye." + +He moved as if to withdraw toward the steps, but she detained him with +a question. "You're spending the rest of the summer here?" + +"That depends," he answered tersely. + +"I hear you have some PASSIONATELY interesting friends." + +"Where did you hear that?" + +"Ah, don't you know?" she responded commiseratingly. "This is the most +scandalously gossipy neighbourhood in France. My DEAR young man, every +one from here to Timbuctu knows all about it by this time!" + +"All about what?" + +"About the excitement you're such a VALUABLE part of; about your +wonderful Spanish friend and how she claims the strange young man here +for her husband." + +"They'll know more'n that, I expec'," he returned with a side glance at +me, "before VERY long." + +"Every one thinks _I_ am so interesting," she rattled on artlessly, +"because I happened to meet YOU in the woods. I've held quite a levee +all day. In a reflected way it makes a heroine of me, you see, because +you are one of the very MOST prominent figures in it all. I hope you +won't think I've been too bold," she pursued anxiously, "in claiming +that I really am one of your acquaintances?" + +"That'll be all right," he politely assured her. + +"I am so glad." Her laughter rang out gaily. "Because I've been talking +about you as if we were the OLDEST friends, and I'd hate to have them +find me out. I've told them everything--about your appearance you see, +and how your hair was parted, and how you were dressed, and--" + +"Luk here," he interrupted, suddenly discharging his Bowery laugh, "did +you tell 'em how HE was dressed?" He pointed a jocular finger at me. +"That WUD 'a' made a hit!" + +"No; we weren't talking of him." + +"Why not? He's in it, too. Bullieve me, he THINKS he is!" + +"In the excitement, you mean?" + +"Right!" said Mr. Percy amiably. "He goes round holdin' Rip Van Winkle +Keredec's hand when the ole man's cryin'; helpin' him sneak his trunks +off t' Paris--playin' the hired man gener'ly. Oh, he thinks he's quite +the boy, in this trouble!" + +"I'm afraid it's a small part," she returned, "compared to yours." + +"Oh, I hold my end up, I guess." + +"I should think you'd be so worn out and sleepy you couldn't hold your +head up!" + +"Who? ME? Not t'-night, m'little friend. I tuk MY sleep's aft'noon and +let Rameau do the Sherlock a little while." + +She gazed upon him with unconcealed admiration. "You are wonderful," +she sighed faintly, and "WONDERFUL!" she breathed again. "How prosaic +are drawing-lessons," she continued, touching my arm and moving with me +toward the pavilion, "after listening to a man of action like that!" + +Mr. Percy, establishing himself comfortably in a garden chair at the +foot of the gallery steps, was heard to utter a short cough as he +renewed the light of his cigarette. + +My visitor paused upon my veranda, humming, "Quand l'Amour Meurt" while +I went within and lit a lamp. "Shall I bring the light out there?" I +asked, but, turning, found that she was already in the room. + +"The sketch-book is my duenna," she said, sinking into a chair upon one +side of the centre table, upon which I placed the lamp. "Lessons are +unquestionable, at any place or time. Behold the beautiful posies!" She +spread the book open on the table between us, as I seated myself +opposite her, revealing some antique coloured smudges of flowers. +"Elegancies of Eighteen-Forty! Isn't that a survival of the period when +young ladies had 'accomplishments,' though! I found it at the chateau +and--" + +"Never mind," I said. "Don't you know that you can't ramble over the +country alone at this time of night?" + +"If you speak any louder," she said, with some urgency of manner, +"you'll be 'hopelessly compromised socially,' as Mrs. Alderman McGinnis +and the Duchess of Gwythyl-Corners say"--she directed my glance, by one +of her own, through the open door to Mr. Percy--"because HE'LL hear you +and know that the sketch-book was only a shallow pretext of mine to see +you. Do be a little manfully self-contained, or you'll get us talked +about! And as for 'this time of night,' I believe it's almost half past +nine." + +"Does Miss Ward know--" + +"Do you think it likely? One of the most convenient things about a +chateau is the number of ways to get out of it without being seen. I +had a choice of eight. So I 'suffered fearfully from neuralgia,' dined +in my own room, and sped through the woods to my honest forester." She +nodded brightly. "That's YOU!" + +"You weren't afraid to come through the woods alone?" I asked, +uncomfortably conscious that her gaiety met a dull response from me. + +"No." + +"But if Miss Ward finds that you're not at the chateau--" + +"She won't; she thinks I'm asleep. She brought me up a sleeping-powder +herself." + +"She thinks you took it?" + +"She KNOWS I did," said Miss Elliott. "I'm full of it! And that will be +the reason--if you notice that I'm particularly nervous or excited." + +"You seem all of that," I said, looking at her eyes, which were very +wide and very brilliant. "However, I believe you always do." + +"Ah!" she smiled. "I knew you thought me atrocious from the first. You +find MYRIADS of objections to me, don't you?" + +I had forgotten to look away from her eyes, and I kept on forgetting. +(The same thing had happened several times lately; and each time, by a +somewhat painful coincidence, I remembered my age at precisely the +instant I remembered to look away.) "Dazzling" is a good old-fashioned +word for eyes like hers; at least it might define their effect on me. + +"If I did manage to object to you," I said slowly, "it would be a good +thing for me--wouldn't it?" + +"Oh, I've WON!" she cried. + +"Won?" I echoed. + +"Yes. I laid a wager with myself that I'd have a pretty speech from you +before I went out of your life"--she checked a laugh, and concluded +thrillingly--"forever! I leave Quesnay to-morrow!" + +"Your father has returned from America?" + +"Oh dear, no," she murmured. "I'll be quite at the world's mercy. I +must go up to Paris and retire from public life until he does come. I +shall take the vows--in some obscure but respectable pension." + +"You can't endure the life at the chateau any longer?" + +"It won't endure ME any longer. If I shouldn't go to-morrow I'd be put +out, I think--after to-night!" + +"But you intimated that no one would know about to-night!" + +"The night isn't over yet," she replied enigmatically. + +"It almost is--for you," I said; "because in ten minutes I shall take +you back to the chateau gates." + +She offered no comment on this prophecy, but gazed at me thoughtfully +and seriously for several moments. "I suppose you can imagine," she +said, in a tone that threatened to become tremulous, "what sort of an +afternoon we've been having up there?" + +"Has it been--" I began. + +"Oh, heart-breaking! Louise came to my room as soon as they got back +from here, this morning, and told me the whole pitiful story. But they +didn't let her stay there long, poor woman!" + +"They?" I asked. + +"Oh, Elizabeth and her brother. They've been at her all afternoon--off +and on." + +"To do what?" + +"To 'save herself,' so they call it. They're insisting that she must +not see her poor husband again. They're DETERMINED she sha'n't." + +"But George wouldn't worry her," I objected. + +"Oh, wouldn't he?" The girl laughed sadly. "I don't suppose he could +help it, he's in such a state himself, but between him and Elizabeth +it's hard to see how poor Mrs. Harman lived through the day." + +"Well," I said slowly, "I don't see that they're not right. She ought +to be kept out of all this as much as possible; and if her husband has +to go through a trial--" + +"I want you to tell me something," Miss Elliott interrupted. "How much +do you like Mr. Ward?" + +"He's an old friend. I suppose I like my old friends in about the same +way that other people like theirs." + +"How much do you like Mr. Saffren--I mean Mr. Harman?" + +"Oh, THAT!" I groaned. "If I could still call him 'Oliver Saffren,' if +I could still think of him as 'Oliver Saffren,' it would be easy to +answer. I never was so 'drawn' to a man in my life before. But when I +think of him as Larrabee Harman, I am full of misgivings." + +"Louise isn't," she put in eagerly, and with something oddly like the +manner of argument. "His wife isn't!" + +"Oh, I know. Perhaps one reason is that she never saw him at quite his +worst. I did. I had only two glimpses of him--of the briefest--but they +inspired me with such a depth of dislike that I can't tell you how +painful it was to discover that 'Oliver Saffren'--this strange, +pathetic, attractive FRIEND of mine--is the same man." + +"Oh, but he isn't!" she exclaimed quickly. + +"Keredec says he is," I laughed helplessly. + +"So does Louise," returned Miss Elliott, disdaining consistency in her +eagerness. "And she's right--and she cares more for him than she ever +did!" + +"I suppose she does." + +"Are you--" the girl began, then stopped for a moment, looking at me +steadily. "Aren't you a little in love with her?" + +"Yes," I answered honestly. "Aren't you?" + +"THAT'S what I wanted to know!" she said; and as she turned a page in +the sketch-book for the benefit of Mr. Percy, I saw that her hand had +begun to tremble. + +"Why?" I asked, leaning toward her across the table. + +"Because, if she were involved in some undertaking--something that, if +it went wrong, would endanger her happiness and, I think, even her +life--for it might actually kill her if she failed, and brought on a +worse catastrophe--" + +"Yes?" I said anxiously, as she paused again. + +"You'd help her?" she said. + +"I would indeed," I assented earnestly. "I told her once I'd do +anything in the world for her." + +"Even if it involved something that George Ward might never forgive you +for?" + +"I said, 'anything in the world,'" I returned, perhaps a little +huskily. "I meant all of that. If there is anything she wants me to do, +I shall do it." + +She gave a low cry of triumph, but immediately checked it. Then she +leaned far over the table, her face close above the book, and, tracing +the outline of an uncertain lily with her small, brown-gloved +forefinger, as though she were consulting me on the drawing, "I wasn't +afraid to come through the woods alone," she said, in a very low voice, +"because I wasn't alone. Louise came with me." + +"What?" I gasped. "Where is she?" + +"At the Baudry cottage down the road. They won't miss her at the +chateau until morning; I locked her door on the outside, and if they go +to bother her again--though I don't think they will--they'll believe +she's fastened it on the inside and is asleep. She managed to get a +note to Keredec late this afternoon; it explained everything, and he +had some trunks carried out the rear gate of the inn and carted over to +Lisieux to be shipped to Paris from there. It is to be supposed--or +hoped, at least--that this woman and her people will believe THAT means +Professor Keredec and Mr. Harman will try to get to Paris in the same +way." + +"So," I said, "that's what Percy meant about the trunks. I didn't +understand." + +"He's on watch, you see," she continued, turning a page to another +drawing. "He means to sit up all night, or he wouldn't have slept this +afternoon. He's not precisely the kind to be in the habit of afternoon +naps--Mr. Percy!" She laughed nervously. "That's why it's almost +absolutely necessary for us to have you. If we have--the thing is so +simple that it's certain." + +"If you have me for what?" I asked. + +"If you'll help"--and, as she looked up, her eyes, now very close to +mine, were dazzling indeed--"I'll adore you for ever and ever! Oh, MUCH +longer than you'd like me to!" + +"You mean she's going to--" + +"I mean that she's going to run away with him again," she whispered. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +At midnight there was no mistaking the palpable uneasiness with which +Mr. Percy, faithful sentry, regarded the behaviour of Miss Elliott and +myself as we sat conversing upon the veranda of the pavilion. It was +not fear for the security of his prisoner which troubled him, but the +unseemliness of the young woman's persistence in remaining to this hour +under an espionage no more matronly than that of a sketch-book +abandoned on the table when we had come out to the open. The youth had +veiled his splendours with more splendour: a long overcoat of so +glorious a plaid it paled the planets above us; and he wandered +restlessly about the garden in this refulgence, glancing at us now and +then with what, in spite of the insufficient revelation of the +starlight, we both recognised as a chilling disapproval. The lights of +the inn were all out; the courtyard was dark. The Spanish woman and +Monsieur Rameau had made their appearance for a moment, half an hour +earlier, to exchange a word with their fellow vigilant, and, soon +after, the extinguishing of the lamps in their respective apartments +denoted their retirement for the night. In the "Grande Suite" all had +been dark and silent for an hour. About the whole place the only sign +of life, aside from those signs furnished by our three selves, was a +rhythmical sound from an open window near the kitchen, where +incontrovertibly slumbered our maitre d'hotel after the cares of the +day. + +Upon the occasion of our forest meeting Mr. Percy had signified his +desire to hear some talk of Art. I think he had his fill to-night--and +more; for that was the subject chosen by my dashing companion, and +vivaciously exploited until our awaited hour was at hand. Heaven knows +what nonsense I prattled, I do not; I do not think I knew at the time. +I talked mechanically, trying hard not to betray my increasing +excitement. + +Under cover of this traduction of the Muse I served, I kept going over +and over the details of Louise Harman's plan, as the girl beside me had +outlined it, bending above the smudgy sketch-book. "To make them think +the flight is for Paris," she had urged, "to Paris by way of Lisieux. +To make that man yonder believe that it is toward Lisieux, while they +turn at the crossroads, and drive across the country to Trouville for +the morning boat to Havre." + +It was simple; that was its great virtue. If they were well started, +they were safe; and well started meant only that Larrabee Harman should +leave the inn without an alarm, for an alarm sounded too soon meant +"racing and chasing on Canoby Lea," before they could get out of the +immediate neighbourhood. But with two hours' start, and the pursuit +spending most of its energy in the wrong direction--that is, toward +Lisieux and Paris--they would be on the deck of the French-Canadian +liner to-morrow noon, sailing out of the harbour of Le Havre, with +nothing but the Atlantic Ocean between them and the St. Lawrence. + +I thought of the woman who dared this flight for her lover, of the +woman who came full-armed between him and the world, a Valkyr winging +down to bear him away to a heaven she would make for him herself. +Gentle as she was, there must have been a Valkyr in her somewhere, or +she could not attempt this. She swept in, not only between him and the +world, but between him and the destroying demons his own sins had +raised to beset him. There, I thought, was a whole love; or there she +was not only wife but mother to him. + +And I remembered the dream of her I had before I ever saw her, on that +first night after I came down to Normandy, when Amedee's talk of +"Madame d'Armand" had brought her into my thoughts. I remembered that I +had dreamed of finding her statue, but it was veiled and I could not +uncover it. And to-night it seemed to me that the veil had lifted, and +the statue was a figure of Mercy in the beautiful likeness of Louise +Harman. Then Keredec was wrong, optimist as he was, since a will such +as hers could save him she loved, even from his own acts. + +"And when you come to Monticelli's first style--" Miss Elliott's voice +rose a little, and I caught the sound of a new thrill vibrating in +it--"you find a hundred others of his epoch doing it quite as well, not +a BIT of a bit less commonplace--" + +She broke off suddenly, and looking up, as I had fifty times in the +last twenty minutes, I saw that a light shone from Keredec's window. + +"I dare say they ARE commonplace," I remarked, rising. "But now, if you +will permit me, I'll offer you my escort back to Quesnay." + +I went into my room, put on my cap, lit a lantern, and returned with it +to the veranda. "If you are ready?" I said. + +"Oh, quite," she answered, and we crossed the garden as far as the +steps. + +Mr. Percy signified his approval. + +"Gunna see the little lady home, are you?" he said graciously. "I was +THINKIN' it was about time, m'self!" + +The salon door of the "Grand Suite" opened, above me, and at the sound, +the youth started, springing back to see what it portended, but I ran +quickly up the steps. Keredec stood in the doorway, bare-headed and in +his shirt-sleeves; in one hand he held a travelling-bag, which he +immediately gave me, setting his other for a second upon my shoulder. + +"Thank you, my good, good friend," he said with an emotion in his big +voice which made me glad of what I was doing. He went back into the +room, closing the door, and I descended the steps as rapidly as I had +run up them. Without pausing, I started for the rear of the courtyard, +Miss Elliott accompanying me. + +The sentry had watched these proceedings open-mouthed, more mystified +than alarmed. "Luk here," he said, "I want t' know whut this means." + +"Anything you choose to think it means," I laughed, beginning to walk a +little more rapidly. He glanced up at the windows of the "Grande +Suite," which were again dark, and began to follow us slowly. "What you +gut in that grip?" he asked. + +"You don't think we're carrying off Mr. Harman?" + +"I reckon HE'S in his room all right," said the youth grimly; "unless +he's FLEW out. But I want t' know what you think y're doin'?" + +"Just now," I replied, "I'm opening this door." + +This was a fact he could not question. We emerged at the foot of a lane +behind the inn; it was long and narrow, bordered by stone walls, and at +the other end debouched upon a road which passed the rear of the Baudry +cottage. + +Miss Elliott took my arm, and we entered the lane. + +Mr. Percy paused undecidedly. "I want t' know whut you think y're +doin'?" he repeated angrily, calling after us. + +"It's very simple," I called in turn. "Can't I do an errand for a +friend? Can't I even carry his travelling-bag for him, without going +into explanations to everybody I happen to meet? And," I added, +permitting some anxiety to be marked in my voice, "I think you may as +well go back. We're not going far enough to need a guard." + +Mr. Percy allowed an oath to escape him, and we heard him muttering to +himself. Then his foot-steps sounded behind us. + +"He's coming!" Miss Elliott whispered, with nervous exultation, looking +over her shoulder. "He's going to follow." + +"He was sure to," said I. + +We trudged briskly on, followed at some fifty paces by the perturbed +watchman. Presently I heard my companion utter a sigh so profound that +it was a whispered moan. + +"What is it?" I murmured. + +"Oh, it's the thought of Quesnay and to-morrow; facing them with THIS!" +she quavered. "Louise has written a letter for me to give them, but +I'll have to tell them--" + +"Not alone," I whispered. "I'll be there when you come down from your +room in the morning." + +We were embarked upon a singular adventure, not unattended by a certain +danger; we were tingling with a hundred apprehensions, occupied with +the vital necessity of drawing the little spy after us--and that was a +strange moment for a man (and an elderly painter-man of no mark, at +that!) to hear himself called what I was called then, in a tremulous +whisper close to my ear. Of course she has denied it since; +nevertheless, she said it--twice, for I pretended not to hear her the +first time. I made no answer, for something in the word she called me, +and in her seeming to mean it, made me choke up so that I could not +even whisper; but I made up my mind that, after THAT if this girl saw +Mr. Earl Percy on his way back to the inn before she wished him to go, +it would be because he had killed me. + +We were near the end of the lane when the neigh of a horse sounded +sonorously from the road beyond. + +Mr. Percy came running up swiftly and darted by us. + +"Who's that?" he called loudly. "Who's that in the cart yonder?" + +I set my lantern on the ground close to the wall, and at the same +moment a horse and cart drew up on the road at the end of the lane, +showing against the starlight. It was Pere Baudry's best horse, a stout +gray, that would easily enough make Trouville by daylight. A woman's +figure and a man's (the latter that of Pere Baudry himself) could be +made out dimly on the seat of the cart. + +"Who is it, I say?" shouted our excited friend. "What kind of a game +d'ye think y're puttin' up on me here?" + +He set his hand on the side of the cart and sprang upon the hub of the +wheel. A glance at the occupants satisfied him. + +"Mrs. Harman!" he yelled. "Mrs. Harman!" He leaped down into the road. +"I knowed I was a fool to come away without wakin' up Rameau. But you +haven't beat us yet!" + +He drove back into the lane, but just inside its entrance I met him. + +"Where are you going?" I asked. + +"Back to the pigeon-house in a hurry. There's devilment here, and I +want Rameau. Git out o' my way!" + +"You're not going back," said I. + +"The hell I ain't!" said Mr. Percy. "I give ye two seconds t' git out +o' my--TAKE YER HANDS OFFA ME!" + +I made sure of my grip, not upon the refulgent overcoat, for I feared +he might slip out of that, but upon the collars of his coat and +waistcoat, which I clenched together in my right hand. I knew that he +was quick, and I suspected that he was "scientific," but I did it +before he had finished talking, and so made fast, with my mind and +heart and soul set upon sticking to him. + +My suspicions as to his "science" were perfervidly justified. "You +long-legged devil!" he yelled, and I instantly received a series of +concussions upon the face and head which put me in supreme doubt of my +surroundings, for I seemed to have plunged, eyes foremost, into the +Milky Way. But I had my left arm around his neck, which probably saved +me from a coup de grace, as he was forced to pommel me at half-length. +Pommel it was; to use so gentle a word for what to me was crash, bang, +smash, battle, murder, earthquake and tornado. I was conscious of some +one screaming, and it seemed a consoling part of my delirium that the +cheek of Miss Anne Elliott should be jammed tight against mine through +one phase of the explosion. My arms were wrenched, my fingers twisted +and tortured, and, when it was all too clear to me that I could not +possibly bear one added iota of physical pain, the ingenious fiend +began to kick my shins and knees with feet like crowbars. + +Conflict of any sort was never my vocation. I had not been an +accessory-during-the-fact to a fight since I passed the truculent age +of fourteen; and it is a marvel that I was able to hang to that dynamic +bundle of trained muscles--which defines Mr. Earl Percy well +enough--for more than ten seconds. Yet I did hang to him, as Pere +Baudry testifies, for a minute and a half, which seems no +inconsiderable lapse of time to a person undergoing such experiences as +were then afflicting me. + +It appeared to me that we were revolving in enormous circles in the +ether, and I had long since given my last gasp, when there came a great +roaring wind in my ears and a range of mountains toppled upon us both; +we went to earth beneath it. + +"Ha! you must create violence, then?" roared the avalanche. + +And the voice was the voice of Keredec. + +Some one pulled me from underneath my struggling antagonist, and, the +power of sight in a hazy, zigzagging fashion coming back to me, I +perceived the figure of Miss Anne Elliott recumbent beside me, her arms +about Mr. Percy's prostrate body. The extraordinary girl had fastened +upon him, too, though I had not known it, and she had gone to ground +with us; but it is to be said for Mr. Earl Percy that no blow of his +touched her, and she was not hurt. Even in the final extremities of +temper, he had carefully discriminated in my favour. + +Mrs. Harman was bending over her, and, as the girl sprang up lightly, +threw her arms about her. For my part, I rose more slowly, section by +section, wondering why I did not fall apart; lips, nose, and cheeks +bleeding, and I had a fear that I should need to be led like a blind +man, through my eyelids swelling shut. That was something I earnestly +desired should not happen; but whether it did, or did not--or if the +heavens fell!--I meant to walk back to Quesnay with Anne Elliott that +night, and, mangled, broken, or half-dead, presenting whatever +appearance of the prize-ring or the abattoir that I might, I intended +to take the same train for Paris on the morrow that she did. + +For our days together were not at an end; nor was it hers nor my desire +that they should be. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +It was Oliver Saffren--as I like to think of him--who helped me to my +feet and wiped my face with his handkerchief, and when that one was +ruined, brought others from his bag and stanched the wounds gladly +received, in the service of his wife. + +"I will remember--" he said, and his voice broke. "These are the +memories which Keredec says make a man good. I pray they will help to +redeem me." And for the last time I heard the child in him speaking: "I +ought to be redeemed; I must be, don't you think, for her sake?" + +"Lose no time!" shouted Keredec. "You must be gone if you will reach +that certain town for the five-o'clock train of the morning." This was +for the spy's benefit; it indicated Lisieux and the train to Paris. Mr. +Percy struggled; the professor knelt over him, pinioning his wrists in +one great hand, and holding him easily to earth. + +"Ha! my friend--" he addressed his captive--"you shall not have cause +to say we do you any harm; there shall be no law, for you are not hurt, +and you are not going to be. But here you shall stay quiet for a little +while--till I say you can go." As he spoke he bound the other's wrists +with a short rope which he took from his pocket, performing the same +office immediately afterward for Mr. Percy's ankles. + +"I take the count!" was the sole remark of that philosopher. "I can't +go up against no herd of elephants." + +"And now," said the professor, rising, "good-bye! The sun shall rise +gloriously for you tomorrow. Come, it is time." + +The two women were crying in each other's arms. "Good-bye!" sobbed Anne +Elliott. + +Mrs. Harman turned to Keredec. "Good-bye! for a little while." + +He kissed her hand. "Dear lady, I shall come within the year." + +She came to me, and I took her hand, meaning to kiss it as Keredec had +done, but suddenly she was closer and I felt her lips upon my battered +cheek. I remember it now. + +I wrung her husband's hand, and then he took her in his arms, lifted +her to the foot-board of the cart, and sprang up beside her. + +"God bless you, and good-bye!" we called. + +And their voices came back to us. "God bless YOU and good-bye!" They +were carried into the enveloping night. We stared after them down the +road; watching the lantern on the tail-board of the cart diminish; +watching it dim and dwindle to a point of gray;--listening until the +hoof-beats of the heavy Norman grew fainter than the rustle of the +branch that rose above the wall beside us. But it is bad luck to strain +eyes and ears to the very last when friends are parting, because that +so sharpens the loneliness; and before the cart went quite beyond our +ken, two of us set out upon the longest way to Quesnay. + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Guest of Quesnay, by Booth Tarkington + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUEST OF QUESNAY *** + +***** This file should be named 5756.txt or 5756.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/7/5/5756/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +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. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Guest of Quesnay + +Author: Booth Tarkington + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5756] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on August 28, 2002] +[Date last updated: December 11, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUEST OF QUESNAY *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +THE GUEST OF QUESNAY + +BY +BOOTH TARKINGTON + +ILLUSTRATED + +NEW YORK +1915 + +TO +OVID BUTLER JAMESON + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +Several pairs of brighter eyes followed my companion ...... Frontispiece + +"I haven't had my life. It's gone!" + +"You and Miss Ward are old and dear friends, aren't you?" + +"Embrasse moi, Larrabi! Embrasse moi!" she cried + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +There are old Parisians who will tell you pompously that the boulevards, +like the political cafes, have ceased to exist, but this means only that +the boulevards no longer gossip of Louis Napoleon, the Return of the +Bourbons, or of General Boulanger, for these highways are always too +busily stirring with present movements not to be forgetful of their +yesterdays. In the shade of the buildings and awnings, the loungers, the +lookers-on in Paris, the audience of the boulevard, sit at little +tables, sipping coffee from long glasses, drinking absinthe or bright- +coloured sirops, and gazing over the heads of throngs afoot at others +borne along through the sunshine of the street in carriages, in cabs, in +glittering automobiles, or high on the tops of omnibuses. + +From all the continents the multitudes come to join in that procession: +Americans, tagged with race-cards and intending hilarious disturbances; +puzzled Americans, worn with guide-book plodding; Chinese princes in +silk; queer Antillean dandies of swarthy origin and fortune; ruddy +English, thinking of nothing; pallid English, with upper teeth bared and +eyes hungrily searching for sign-boards of tea-rooms; over-Europeanised +Japanese, unpleasantly immaculate; burnoosed sheiks from the desert, and +red-fezzed Semitic peddlers; Italian nobles in English tweeds; Soudanese +negroes swaggering in frock coats; slim Spaniards, squat Turks, +travellers, idlers, exiles, fugitives, sportsmen--all the tribes and +kinds of men are tributary here to the Parisian stream which, on a fair +day in spring, already overflows the banks with its own much-mingled +waters. Soberly clad burgesses, bearded, amiable, and in no fatal hurry; +well-kept men of the world swirling by in miraculous limousines; legless +cripples flopping on hands and leather pads; thin-whiskered students in +velveteen; walrus-moustached veterans in broadcloth; keen-faced old +prelates; shabby young priests; cavalrymen in casque and cuirass; +workingmen turned horse and harnessed to carts; sidewalk jesters, +itinerant vendors of questionable wares; shady loafers dressed to +resemble gold-showering America; motor-cyclists in leather; hairy +musicians, blue gendarmes, baggy red zouaves; purple-faced, glazed- +hatted, scarlet-waistcoated, cigarette-smoking cabmen, calling one +another "onions," "camels," and names even more terrible. Women +prevalent over all the concourse; fair women, dark women, pretty women, +gilded women, haughty women, indifferent women, friendly women, merry +women. Fine women in fine clothes; rich women in fine clothes; poor +women in fine clothes. Worldly old women, reclining befurred in electric +landaulettes; wordy old women hoydenishly trundling carts full of +flowers. Wonderful automobile women quick-glimpsed, in multiple veils of +white and brown and sea-green. Women in rags and tags, and women draped, +coifed, and befrilled in the delirium of maddened poet-milliners and the +hasheesh dreams of ladies' tailors. + +About the procession, as it moves interminably along the boulevard, a +blue haze of fine dust and burnt gasoline rises into the sunshine like +the haze over the passages to an amphitheatre toward which a crowd is +trampling; and through this the multitudes seem to go as actors passing +to their cues. Your place at one of the little tables upon the sidewalk +is that of a wayside spectator: and as the performers go by, in some +measure acting or looking their parts already, as if in preparation, you +guess the roles they play, and name them comedians, tragedians, +buffoons, saints, beauties, sots, knaves, gladiators, acrobats, dancers; +for all of these are there, and you distinguish the principles from the +unnumbered supernumeraries pressing forward to the entrances. So, if you +sit at the little tables often enough--that is, if you become an amateur +boulevardier--you begin to recognise the transient stars of the pageant, +those to whom the boulevard allows a dubious and fugitive role of +celebrity, and whom it greets with a slight flutter: the turning of +heads, a murmur of comment, and the incredulous boulevard smile, which +seems to say: "You see? Madame and monsieur passing there--evidently +they think we still believe in them!" + +This flutter heralded and followed the passing of a white touring-car +with the procession one afternoon, just before the Grand Prix, though it +needed no boulevard celebrity to make the man who lolled in the tonneau +conspicuous. Simply for THAT, notoriety was superfluous; so were the +remarkable size and power of his car; so was the elaborate touring- +costume of flannels and pongee he wore; so was even the enamelled +presence of the dancer who sat beside him. His face would have done it +without accessories. + +My old friend, George Ward, and I had met for our aperitif at the +Terrace Larue, by the Madeleine, when the white automobile came snaking +its way craftily through the traffic. Turning in to pass a victoria on +the wrong side, it was forced down to a snail's pace near the curb and +not far from our table, where it paused, checked by a blockade at the +next corner. I heard Ward utter a half-suppressed guttural of what I +took to be amazement, and I did not wonder. + +The face of the man in the tonneau detached him to the spectator's gaze +and singled him out of the concourse with an effect almost ludicrous in +its incongruity. The hair was dark, lustrous and thick, the forehead +broad and finely modelled, and certain other ruinous vestiges of youth +and good looks remained; but whatever the features might once have shown +of honour, worth, or kindly semblance had disappeared beyond all tracing +in a blurred distortion. The lids of one eye were discoloured and +swollen almost together; other traces of a recent battering were not +lacking, nor was cosmetic evidence of a heroic struggle, on the part of +some valet of infinite pains, to efface them. The nose lost outline in +the discolorations of the puffed cheeks; the chin, tufted with a small +imperial, trembled beneath a sagging, gray lip. And that this bruised +and dissipated mask should suffer the final grotesque touch, it was +decorated with the moustache of a coquettish marquis, the ends waxed and +exquisitely elevated. + +The figure was fat, but loose and sprawling, seemingly without the will +to hold itself together; in truth the man appeared to be almost in a +semi-stupor, and, contrasted with this powdered Silenus, even the woman +beside him gained something of human dignity. At least, she was +thoroughly alive, bold, predatory, and in spite of the gross embon-point +that threatened her, still savagely graceful. A purple veil, dotted with +gold, floated about her hat, from which green-dyed ostrich plumes +cascaded down across a cheek enamelled dead white. Her hair was +plastered in blue-black waves, parted low on the forehead; her lips were +splashed a startling carmine, the eyelids painted blue; and, from +between lashes gummed into little spikes of blacking, she favoured her +companion with a glance of carelessly simulated tenderness,--a look all +too vividly suggesting the ghastly calculations of a cook wheedling a +chicken nearer the kitchen door. But I felt no great pity for the +victim. + +"Who is it?" I asked, staring at the man in the automobile and not +turning toward Ward. + +"That is Mariana--'la bella Mariana la Mursiana,'" George answered; "-- +one of those women who come to Paris from the tropics to form themselves +on the legend of the one great famous and infamous Spanish dancer who +died a long while ago. Mariana did very well for a time. I've heard that +the revolutionary societies intend striking medals in her honour: she's +done worse things to royalty than all the anarchists in Europe! But her +great days are over: she's getting old; that type goes to pieces +quickly, once it begins to slump, and it won't be long before she'll be +horribly fat, though she's still a graceful dancer. She danced at the +Folie Rouge last week." + +"Thank you, George," I said gratefully. "I hope you'll point out the +Louvre and the Eiffel Tower to me some day. I didn't mean Mariana." + +"What did you mean?" + +What I had meant was so obvious that I turned to my friend in surprise. +He was nervously tapping his chin with the handle of his cane and +staring at the white automobile with very grim interest. + +"I meant the man with her," I said. + +"Oh!" He laughed sourly. "That carrion?" + +"You seem to be an acquaintance." + +"Everybody on the boulevard knows who he is," said Ward curtly, paused, +and laughed again with very little mirth. "So do you," he continued; +"and as for my acquaintance with him--yes, I had once the distinction of +being his rival in a small way, a way so small, in fact, that it ended +in his becoming a connection of mine by marriage. He's Larrabee Harman." + +That was a name somewhat familiar to readers of American newspapers even +before its bearer was fairly out of college. The publicity it then +attained (partly due to young Harman's conspicuous wealth) attached to +some youthful exploits not without a certain wild humour. But frolic +degenerated into brawl and debauch: what had been scrapes for the boy +became scandals for the man; and he gathered a more and more unsavoury +reputation until its like was not to be found outside a penitentiary. +The crux of his career in his own country was reached during a midnight +quarrel in Chicago when he shot a negro gambler. After that, the negro +having recovered and the matter being somehow arranged so that the +prosecution was dropped, Harman's wife left him, and the papers recorded +her application for a divorce. She was George Ward's second cousin, the +daughter of a Baltimore clergyman; a belle in a season and town of +belles, and a delightful, headstrong creature, from all accounts. She +had made a runaway match of it with Harman three years before, their +affair having been earnestly opposed by all her relatives--especially by +poor George, who came over to Paris just after the wedding in a +miserable frame of mind. + +The Chicago exploit was by no means the end of Harman's notoriety. +Evading an effort (on the part of an aunt, I believe) to get him locked +up safely in a "sanitarium," he began a trip round the world with an +orgy which continued from San Francisco to Bangkok, where, in the +company of some congenial fellow travellers, he interfered in a native +ceremonial with the result that one of his companions was drowned. +Proceeding, he was reported to be in serious trouble at Constantinople, +the result of an inquisitiveness little appreciated by Orientals. The +State Department, bestirring itself, saved him from a very real peril, +and he continued his journey. In Rome he was rescued with difficulty +from a street mob that unreasonably refused to accept intoxication as an +excuse for his riding down a child on his way to the hunt. Later, during +the winter just past, we had been hearing from Monte Carlo of his +disastrous plunges at that most imbecile of all games, roulette. + +Every event, no matter how trifling, in this man's pitiful career had +been recorded in the American newspapers with an elaboration which, for +my part, I found infuriatingly tiresome. I have lived in Paris so long +that I am afraid to go home: I have too little to show for my years of +pottering with paint and canvas, and I have grown timid about all the +changes that have crept in at home. I do not know the "new men," I do +not know how they would use me, and fear they might make no place for +me; and so I fit myself more closely into the little grooves I have worn +for myself, and resign myself to stay. But I am no "expatriate." I know +there is a feeling at home against us who remain over here to do our +work, but in most instances it is a prejudice which springs from a +misunderstanding. I think the quality of patriotism in those of us who +"didn't go home in time" is almost pathetically deep and real, and, like +many another oldish fellow in my position, I try to keep as close to +things at home as I can. All of my old friends gradually ceased to write +to me, but I still take three home newspapers, trying to follow the +people I knew and the things that happen; and the ubiquity of so +worthless a creature as Larrabee Harman in the columns I dredged for +real news had long been a point of irritation to this present exile. Not +only that: he had usurped space in the Continental papers, and of late +my favourite Parisian journal had served him to me with my morning +coffee, only hinting his name, but offering him with that gracious +satire characteristic of the Gallic journalist writing of anything +American. And so this grotesque wreck of a man was well known to the +boulevard--one of its sights. That was to be perceived by the flutter he +caused, by the turning of heads in his direction, and the low laughter +of the people at the little tables. Three or four in the rear ranks had +risen to their feet to get a better look at him and his companion. + +Some one behind us chuckled aloud. "They say Mariana beats him." + +"Evidently!" + +The dancer was aware of the flutter, and called Harman's attention to it +with a touch upon his arm and a laugh and a nod of her violent plumage. + +At that he seemed to rouse himself somewhat: his head rolled heavily +over upon his shoulder, the lids lifted a little from the red-shot eyes, +showing a strange pride when his gaze fell upon the many staring faces. + +Then, as the procession moved again and the white automobile with it, +the sottish mouth widened in a smile of dull and cynical contempt: the +look of a half-poisoned Augustan borne down through the crowds from the +Palatine after supping with Caligula. + +Ward pulled my sleeve. + +"Come," he said, "let us go over to the Luxembourg gardens where the air +is cleaner." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Ward is a portrait-painter, and in the matter of vogue there seem to be +no pinnacles left for him to surmount. I think he has painted most of +the very rich women of fashion who have come to Paris of late years, and +he has become so prosperous, has such a polite celebrity, and his +opinions upon art are so conclusively quoted, that the friendship of +some of us who started with him has been dangerously strained. + +He lives a well-ordered life; he has always led that kind of life. Even +in his student days when I first knew him, I do not remember an occasion +upon which the principal of a New England high-school would have +criticised his conduct. And yet I never heard anyone call him a prig; +and, so far as I know, no one was ever so stupid as to think him one. He +was a quiet, good-looking, well-dressed boy, and he matured into a +somewhat reserved, well-poised man, of impressive distinction in +appearance and manner. He has always been well tended and cared for by +women; in his student days his mother lived with him; his sister, Miss +Elizabeth, looks after him now. She came with him when he returned to +Paris after his disappointment in the unfortunate Harman affair, and she +took charge of all his business--as well as his social--arrangements +(she has been accused of a theory that the two things may be happily +combined), making him lease a house in an expensively modish quarter +near the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. Miss Elizabeth is an instinctively +fashionable woman, practical withal, and to her mind success should be +not only respectable but "smart." She does not speak of the "right bank" +and the "left bank" of the Seine; she calls them the "right bank" and +the "wrong bank." And yet, though she removed George (her word is +"rescued") from many of his old associations with Montparnasse, she +warmly encouraged my friendship with him--yea, in spite of my living so +deep in the wrong bank that the first time he brought her to my studio, +she declared she hadn't seen anything so like Bring-the-child-to-the- +old-hag's-cellar-at-midnight since her childhood. She is a handsome +woman, large, and of a fine, high colour; her manner is gaily +dictatorial, and she and I got along very well together. + +Probably she appreciated my going to some pains with the clothes I wore +when I went to their house. My visits there were infrequent, not because +I had any fear of wearing out a welcome, but on account of Miss +Elizabeth's "day," when I could see nothing of George for the crowd of +lionising women and time-wasters about him. Her "day" was a dread of +mine; I could seldom remember which day it was, and when I did she had a +way of shifting it so that I was fatally sure to run into it--to my +misery, for, beginning with those primordial indignities suffered in +youth, when I was scrubbed with a handkerchief outside the parlour door +as a preliminary to polite usages, my childhood's, manhood's prayer has +been: From all such days, Good Lord, deliver me! + +It was George's habit to come much oftener to see me. He always really +liked the sort of society his sister had brought about him; but now and +then there were intervals when it wore on him a little, I think. +Sometimes he came for me in his automobile and we would make a mild +excursion to breakfast in the country; and that is what happened one +morning about three weeks after the day when we had sought pure air in +the Luxembourg gardens. + +We drove out through the Bois and by Suresnes, striking into a +roundabout road to Versailles beyond St. Cloud. It was June, a dustless +and balmy noon, the air thinly gilded by a faint haze, and I know few +things pleasanter than that road on a fair day of the early summer and +no sweeter way to course it than in an open car; though I must not be +giving myself out for a "motorist"--I have not even the right cap. I am +usually nervous in big machines, too; but Ward has never caught the +speed mania and holds a strange power over his chauffeur; so we rolled +along peacefully, not madly, and smoked (like the car) in hasteless +content. + +"After all," said George, with a placid wave of the hand, "I sometimes +wish that the landscape had called me. You outdoor men have all the +health and pleasure of living in the open, and as for the work--oh! you +fellows think you work, but you don't know what it means." + +"No?" I said, and smiled as I always meanly do when George "talks art." +He was silent for a few moments and then said irritably, + +"Well, at least you can't deny that the academic crowd can DRAW!" + +Never having denied it, though he had challenged me in the same way +perhaps a thousand times, I refused to deny it now; whereupon he +returned to his theme: "Landscape is about as simple as a stage fight; +two up, two down, cross and repeat. Take that ahead of us. Could +anything be simpler to paint?" + +He indicated the white road running before us between open fields to a +curve, where it descended to pass beneath an old stone culvert. Beyond, +stood a thick grove with a clear sky flickering among the branches. An +old peasant woman was pushing a heavy cart round the curve, a scarlet +handkerchief knotted about her head. + +"You think it's easy?" I asked. + +"Easy! Two hours ought to do it as well as it could be done--at least, +the way you fellows do it!" He clenched his fingers as if upon the +handle of a house-painter's brush. "Slap, dash--there's your road." He +paddled the air with the imaginary brush as though painting the side of +a barn. "Swish, swash--there go your fields and your stone bridge. Fit! +Speck! And there's your old woman, her red handkerchief, and what your +dealer will probably call 'the human interest,' all complete. Squirt the +edges of your foliage in with a blow-pipe. Throw a cup of tea over the +whole, and there's your haze. Call it 'The Golden Road,' or 'The Bath of +Sunlight,' or 'Quiet Noon.' Then you'll probably get a criticism +beginning, 'Few indeed have more intangibly detained upon canvas so +poetic a quality of sentiment as this sterling landscapist, who in +Number 136 has most ethereally expressed the profound silence of evening +on an English moor. The solemn hush, the brooding quiet, the homeward +ploughman--'" + +He was interrupted by an outrageous uproar, the grisly scream of a siren +and the cannonade of a powerful exhaust, as a great white touring-car +swung round us from behind at a speed that sickened me to see, and, +snorting thunder, passed us "as if we had been standing still." + +It hurtled like a comet down the curve and we were instantly choking in +its swirling tail of dust. + +"Seventy miles an hour!" gasped George, swabbing at his eyes. "Those are +the fellows that get into the pa--Oh, Lord! THERE they go!" + +Swinging out to pass us and then sweeping in upon the reverse curve to +clear the narrow arch of the culvert were too much for the white car; +and through the dust we saw it rock dangerously. In the middle of the +road, ten feet from the culvert, the old woman struggled frantically to +get her cart out of the way. The howl of the siren frightened her +perhaps, for she lost her head and went to the wrong side. Then the +shriek of the machine drowned the human scream as the automobile struck. + +The shock of contact was muffled. But the mass of machinery hoisted +itself in the air as if it had a life of its own and had been stung into +sudden madness. It was horrible to see, and so grotesque that a long- +forgotten memory of my boyhood leaped instantaneously into my mind, a +recollection of the evolutions performed by a Newfoundland dog that +rooted under a board walk and found a hive of wild bees. + +The great machine left the road for the fields on the right, reared, +fell, leaped against the stone side of the culvert, apparently trying to +climb it, stood straight on end, whirled backward in a half-somersault, +crashed over on its side, flashed with flame and explosion, and lay +hidden under a cloud of dust and smoke. + +Ward's driver slammed down his accelerator, sent us spinning round the +curve, and the next moment, throwing on his brakes, halted sharply at +the culvert. + +The fabric of the road was so torn and distorted one might have thought +a steam dredge had begun work there, but the fragments of wreckage were +oddly isolated and inconspicuous. The peasant's cart, tossed into a +clump of weeds, rested on its side, the spokes of a rimless wheel slowly +revolving on the hub uppermost. Some tools were strewn in a semi- +circular trail in the dust; a pair of smashed goggles crunched beneath +my foot as I sprang out of Ward's car, and a big brass lamp had fallen +in the middle of the road, crumpled like waste paper. Beside it lay a +gold rouge box. + +The old woman had somehow saved herself--or perhaps her saint had helped +her--for she was sitting in the grass by the roadside, wailing +hysterically and quite unhurt. The body of a man lay in a heap beneath +the stone archway, and from his clothes I guessed that he had been the +driver of the white car. I say "had been" because there were reasons for +needing no second glance to comprehend that the man was dead. +Nevertheless, I knelt beside him and placed my hand upon his breast to +see if his heart still beat. Afterward I concluded that I did this +because I had seen it done upon the stage, or had read of it in stories; +and even at the time I realised that it was a silly thing for me to be +doing. + +Ward, meanwhile, proved more practical. He was dragging a woman out of +the suffocating smoke and dust that shrouded the wreck, and after a +moment I went to help him carry her into the fresh air, where George put +his coat under her head. Her hat had been forced forward over her face +and held there by the twisting of a system of veils she wore; and we had +some difficulty in unravelling this; but she was very much alive, as a +series of muffled imprecations testified, leading us to conclude that +her sufferings were more profoundly of rage than of pain. Finally she +pushed our hands angrily aside and completed the untanglement herself, +revealing the scratched and smeared face of Mariana, the dancer. + +"Cornichon! Chameau! Fond du bain!" she gasped, tears of anger starting +from her eyes. She tried to rise before we could help her, but dropped +back with a scream. + +"Oh, the pain!" she cried. "That imbecile! If he has let me break my +leg! A pretty dancer I should be! I hope he is killed." + +One of the singularities of motoring on the main-travelled roads near +Paris is the prevalence of cars containing physicians and surgeons. +Whether it be testimony to the opportunism, to the sporting +proclivities, or to the prosperity of gentlemen of those professions, I +do not know, but it is a fact that I have never heard of an accident +(and in the season there is an accident every day) on one of these roads +when a doctor in an automobile was not almost immediately a chance +arrival, and fortunately our case offered no exception to this rule. +Another automobile had already come up and the occupants were hastily +alighting. Ward shouted to the foremost to go for a doctor. + +"I am a doctor," the man answered, advancing and kneeling quickly by the +dancer. "And you--you may be of help yonder." + +We turned toward the ruined car where Ward's driver was shouting for us. + +"What is it?" called Ward as we ran toward him. + +"Monsieur," he replied, "there is some one under the tonneau here!" + +The smoke had cleared a little, though a rivulet of burning gasoline ran +from the wreck to a pool of flame it was feeding in the road. The front +cushions and woodwork had caught fire and a couple of labourers, panting +with the run across the fields, were vainly belabouring the flames with +brushwood. From beneath the overturned tonneau projected the lower part +of a man's leg, clad in a brown puttee and a russet shoe. Ward's driver +had brought his tools; had jacked up the car as high as possible; but +was still unable to release the imprisoned body. + +"I have seized that foot and pulled with all my strength," he said, "and +I cannot make him move one centimetre. It is necessary that as many +people as possible lay hold of the car on the side away from the fire +and all lift together. Yes," he added, "and very soon!" + +Some carters had come from the road and one of them lay full length on +the ground peering beneath the wreck. "It is the head of monsieur," +explained this one; "it is the head of monsieur which is fastened under +there." + +"Eh, but you are wiser than Clemenceau!" said the chauffeur. "Get up, my +ancient, and you there, with the brushwood, let the fire go for a moment +and help, when I say the word. And you, monsieur," he turned to Ward, +"if you please, will you pull with me upon the ankle here at the right +moment?" + +The carters, the labourers, the men from the other automobile, and I +laid hold of the car together. + +"Now, then, messieurs, LIFT!" + +Stifled with the gasoline smoke, we obeyed. One or two hands were +scorched and our eyes smarted blindingly, but we gave a mighty heave, +and felt the car rising. + +"Well done!" cried the chauffeur. "Well done! But a little more! The +smallest fraction--HA! It is finished, messieurs!" + +We staggered back, coughing and wiping our eyes. For a minute or two I +could not see at all, and was busy with a handkerchief. + +Ward laid his hand on my shoulder. + +"Do you know who it is?" he asked. + +"Yes, of course," I answered. + +When I could see again, I found that I was looking almost straight down +into the upturned face of Larrabee Harman, and I cannot better express +what this man had come to be, and what the degradation of his life had +written upon him, than by saying that the dreadful thing I looked upon +now was no more horrible a sight than the face I had seen, fresh from +the valet and smiling in ugly pride at the starers, as he passed the +terrace of Larue on the day before the Grand Prix. + +We helped to carry him to the doctor's car, and to lift the dancer into +Ward's, and to get both of them out again at the hospital at Versailles, +where they were taken. Then, with no need to ask each other if we should +abandon our plan to breakfast in the country, we turned toward Paris, +and rolled along almost to the barriers in silence. + +"Did it seem to you," said George finally, "that a man so frightfully +injured could have any chance of getting well?" + +"No," I answered. "I thought he was dying as we carried him into the +hospital." + +"So did I. The top of his head seemed all crushed in--Whew!" He broke +off, shivering, and wiped his brow. After a pause he added thoughtfully, +"It will be a great thing for Louise." + +Louise was the name of his second cousin, the girl who had done battle +with all her family and then run away from them to be Larrabee Harman's +wife. Remembering the stir that her application for divorce had made, I +did not understand how Harman's death could benefit her, unless George +had some reason to believe that he had made a will in her favour. +However, the remark had been made more to himself than to me and I did +not respond. + +The morning papers flared once more with the name of Larrabee Harman, +and we read that there was "no hope of his surviving." Ironic phrase! +There was not a soul on earth that day who could have hoped for his +recovery, or who--for his sake--cared two straws whether he lived or +died. And the dancer had been right; one of her legs was badly broken: +she would never dance again. + +Evening papers reported that Harman was "lingering." He was lingering +the next day. He was lingering the next week, and the end of a month saw +him still "lingering." Then I went down to Capri, where--for he had been +after all the merest episode to me--I was pleased to forget all about +him. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +A great many people keep their friends in mind by writing to them, but +more do not; and Ward and I belong to the majority. After my departure +from Paris I had but one missive from him, a short note, written at the +request of his sister, asking me to be on the lookout for Italian +earrings, to add to her collection of old jewels. So, from time to time, +I sent her what I could find about Capri or in Naples, and she responded +with neat little letters of acknowledgment. + +Two years I stayed on Capri, eating the lotus which grows on that happy +island, and painting very little--only enough, indeed, to be remembered +at the Salon and not so much as knowing how kindly or unkindly they hung +my pictures there. But even on Capri, people sometimes hear the call of +Paris and wish to be in that unending movement: to hear the +multitudinous rumble, to watch the procession from a cafe terrace and to +dine at Foyot's. So there came at last a fine day when I, knowing that +the horse-chestnuts were in bloom along the Champs Elysees, threw my +rope-soled shoes to a beggar, packed a rusty trunk, and was off for the +banks of the Seine. + +My arrival--just the drive from the Gare de Lyon to my studio--was like +the shock of surf on a bather's breast. + +The stir and life, the cheerful energy of the streets, put stir and life +and cheerful energy into me. I felt the itch to work again, to be at it, +at it in earnest--to lose no hour of daylight, and to paint better than +I had painted! + +Paris having given me this impetus, I dared not tempt her further, nor +allow the edge of my eagerness time to blunt; therefore, at the end of a +fortnight, I went over into Normandy and deposited that rusty trunk of +mine in a corner of the summer pavilion in the courtyard of Madame +Brossard's inn, Les Trois Pigeons, in a woodland neighborhood that is +there. Here I had painted through a prolific summer of my youth, and I +was glad to find--as I had hoped--nothing changed; for the place was +dear to me. Madame Brossard (dark, thin, demure as of yore, a fine- +looking woman with a fine manner and much the flavour of old Norman +portraits) gave me a pleasant welcome, remembering me readily but +without surprise, while Amedee, the antique servitor, cackled over me +and was as proud of my advent as if I had been a new egg and he had laid +me. The simile is grotesque; but Amedee is the most henlike waiter in +France. + +He is a white-haired, fat old fellow, always well-shaved; as neat as a +billiard-ball. In the daytime, when he is partly porter, he wears a +black tie, a gray waistcoat broadly striped with scarlet, and, from +waist to feet, a white apron like a skirt, and so competently encircling +that his trousers are of mere conventionality and no real necessity; but +after six o'clock (becoming altogether a maitre d'hotel) he is clad as +any other formal gentleman. At all times he wears a fresh table-cloth +over his arm, keeping an exaggerated pile of them ready at hand on a +ledge in one of the little bowers of the courtyard, so that he may never +be shamed by getting caught without one. + +His conception of life is that all worthy persons were created as +receptacles for food and drink; and five minutes after my arrival he had +me seated (in spite of some meek protests) in a wicker chair with a +pitcher of the right Three Pigeons cider on the table before me, while +he subtly dictated what manner of dinner I should eat. For this interval +Amedee's exuberance was sobered and his badinage dismissed as being +mere garniture, the questions now before us concerning grave and inward +matters. His suggestions were deferential but insistent; his manner was +that of a prime minister who goes through the form of convincing the +sovereign. He greeted each of his own decisions with a very loud "Bien!" +as if startled by the brilliancy of my selections, and, the menu being +concluded, exploded a whole volley of "Biens" and set off violently to +instruct old Gaston, the cook. + +That is Amedee's way; he always starts violently for anywhere he means +to go. He is a little lame and his progress more or less sidelong, but +if you call him, or new guests arrive at the inn, or he receives an +order from Madame Brossard, he gives the effect of running by a sudden +movement of the whole body like that of a man ABOUT to run, and moves +off using the gestures of a man who IS running; after which he proceeds +to his destination at an exquisite leisure. Remembering this old habit +of his, it was with joy that I noted his headlong departure. Some ten +feet of his progress accomplished, he halted (for no purpose but to +scratch his head the more luxuriously); next, strayed from the path to +contemplate a rose-bush, and, selecting a leaf with careful +deliberation, placed it in his mouth and continued meditatively upon his +way to the kitchen. + +I chuckled within me; it was good to be back at Madame Brossard's. + +The courtyard was more a garden; bright with rows of flowers in formal +little beds and blossoming up from big green tubs, from red jars, and +also from two brightly painted wheel-barrows. A long arbour offered a +shelter of vines for those who might choose to dine, breakfast, or +lounge beneath, and, here and there among the shrubberies, you might +come upon a latticed bower, thatched with straw. My own pavilion (half +bedroom, half studio) was set in the midst of all and had a small porch +of its own with a rich curtain of climbing honeysuckle for a screen from +the rest of the courtyard. + +The inn itself is gray with age, the roof sagging pleasantly here and +there; and an old wooden gallery runs the length of each wing, the +guest-chambers of the upper story opening upon it like the deck-rooms of +a steamer, with boxes of tulips and hyacinths along the gallery railings +and window ledges for the gayest of border-lines. + +Beyond the great open archway, which gives entrance to the courtyard, +lies the quiet country road; passing this, my eyes followed the wide +sweep of poppy-sprinkled fields to a line of low green hills; and there +was the edge of the forest sheltering those woodland interiors which I +had long ago tried to paint, and where I should be at work to-morrow. + +In the course of time, and well within the bright twilight, Amedee +spread the crisp white cloth and served me at a table on my pavilion +porch. He feigned anxiety lest I should find certain dishes (those which +he knew were most delectable) not to my taste, but was obviously so +distended with fatuous pride over the whole meal that it became a +temptation to denounce at least some trifling sauce or garnishment; +nevertheless, so much mendacity proved beyond me and I spared him and my +own conscience. This puffed-uppedness of his was to be observed only in +his expression of manner, for during the consumption of food it was his +worthy custom to practise a ceremonious, nay, a reverential, hush, and +he never offered (or approved) conversation until he had prepared the +salad. That accomplished, however, and the water bubbling in the coffee +machine, he readily favoured me with a discourse on the decline in glory +of Les Trois Pigeons. + +"Monsieur, it is the automobiles; they have done it. Formerly, as when +monsieur was here, the painters came from Paris. They would come in the +spring and would stay until the autumn rains. What busy times and what +drolleries! Ah, it was gay in those days! Monsieur remembers well. Ha, +Ha! But now, I think, the automobiles have frightened away the painters; +at least they do not come any more. And the automobiles themselves; they +come sometimes for lunch, a few, but they love better the seashore, and +we are just close enough to be too far away. Those automobiles, they +love the big new hotels and the casinos with roulette. They eat hastily, +gulp down a liqueur, and pouf! off they rush for Trouville, for +Houlgate--for heaven knows where! And even the automobiles do not come +so frequently as they did. Our road used to be the best from Lisieux to +Beuzeval, but now the maps recommend another. They pass us by, and yet +yonder--only a few kilometres--is the coast with its thousands. We are +near the world but out of it, monsieur." + +He poured my coffee; dropped a lump of sugar from the tongs with a +benevolent gesture--"One lump: always the same. Monsieur sees that I +remember well, ha?"--and the twilight having fallen, he lit two orange- +shaded candles and my cigar with the same match. The night was so quiet +that the candle-lights burned as steadily as flames in a globe, yet the +air was spiced with a cool fragrance, and through the honeysuckle leaves +above me I saw, as I leaned back in my wicker chair, a glimmer of kindly +stars. + +"Very comfortably out of the world, Amedee," I said. "It seems to me I +have it all to myself." + +"Unhappily, yes!" he exclaimed; then excused himself, chuckling. "I +should have said that we should be happier if we had many like monsieur. +But it is early in the season to despair. Then, too, our best suite is +already engaged." + +"By whom?" + +"Two men of science who arrive next week. One is a great man. Madame +Brossard is pleased that he is coming to Les Trois Pigeons, but I tell +her it is only natural. He comes now for the first time because he likes +the quiet, but he will come again, like monsieur, because he has been +here before. That is what I always say: 'Any one who has been here must +come again.' The problem is only to get them to come the first time. +Truly!" + +"Who is the great man, Amedee?" + +"Ah! A distinguished professor of science. Truly." + +"What science?" + +"I do not know. But he is a member of the Institute. Monsieur must have +heard of that great Professor Keredec?" + +"The name is known. Who is the other?" + +"A friend of his. I do not know. All the upper floor of the east wing +they have taken--the Grande Suite--those two and their valet-de-chambre. +That is truly the way in modern times--the philosophers are rich men." + +"Yes," I sighed. "Only the painters are poor nowadays." + +"Ha, ha, monsieur!" Amedee laughed cunningly. + +"It was always easy to see that monsieur only amuses himself with his +painting." + +"Thank you, Amedee," I responded. "I have amused other people with it +too, I fear." + +"Oh, without doubt!" he agreed graciously, as he folded the cloth. I +have always tried to believe that it was not so much my pictures as the +fact that I paid my bills the day they were presented which convinced +everybody about Les Trois Pigeons that I was an amateur. But I never +became happily enough settled in this opinion to risk pressing an +investigation; and it was a relief that Amedee changed the subject. + +"Monsieur remembers the Chateau de Quesnay--at the crest of the hill on +the road north of Dives?" + +"I remember." + +"It is occupied this season by some rich Americans." + +"How do you know they are rich?" + +"Dieu de Dieu!" The old fellow appealed to heaven. "But they are +Americans!" + +"And therefore millionaires. Perfectly, Amedee." + +"Perfectly, monsieur. Perhaps monsieur knows them." + +"Yes, I know them." + +"Truly!" He affected dejection. "And poor Madame Brossard thought +monsieur had returned to our old hotel because he liked it, and +remembered our wine of Beaune and the good beds and old Gaston's +cooking!" + +"Do not weep, Amedee," I said. "I have come to paint; not because I know +the people who have taken Quesnay." And I added: "I may not see them at +all." + +In truth I thought that very probable. Miss Elizabeth had mentioned in +one of her notes that Ward had leased Quesnay, but I had not sought +quarters at Les Trois Pigeons because it stood within walking distance +of the chateau. In my industrious frame of mind that circumstance seemed +almost a drawback. Miss Elizabeth, ever hospitable to those whom she +noticed at all, would be doubly so in the country, as people always are; +and I wanted all my time to myself--no very selfish wish since my time +was not conceivably of value to any one else. I thought it wise to leave +any encounter with the lady to chance, and as the by-paths of the +country-side were many and intricate, I intended, without ungallantry, +to render the chance remote. George himself had just sailed on a +business trip to America, as I knew from her last missive; and until his +return, I should put in all my time at painting and nothing else, though +I liked his sister, as I have said, and thought of her--often. + +Amedee doubted my sincerity, however, for he laughed incredulously. + +"Eh, well, monsieur enjoys saying it!" + +"Certainly. It is a pleasure to say what one means." + +"But monsieur could not mean it. Monsieur will call at the chateau in +the morning"--the complacent varlet prophesied--"as early as it will be +polite. I am sure of that. Monsieur is not at all an old man; no, not +yet! Even if he were, aha! no one could possess the friendship of that +wonderful Madame d'Armand and remain away from the chateau." + +"Madame d'Armand?" I said. "That is not the name. You mean Mademoiselle +Ward." + +"No, no!" He shook his head and his fat cheeks bulged with a smile which +I believe he intended to express a respectful roguishness. "Mademoiselle +Ward" (he pronounced it "Ware") "is magnificent; every one must fly to +obey when she opens her mouth. If she did not like the ocean there below +the chateau, the ocean would have to move! It needs only a glance to +perceive that Mademoiselle Ward is a great lady--but MADAME D'ARMAND! +AHA!" He rolled his round eyes to an effect of unspeakable admiration, +and with a gesture indicated that he would have kissed his hand to the +stars, had that been properly reverential to Madame d'Armand. "But +monsieur knows very well for himself!" + +"Monsieur knows that you are very confusing--even for a maitre d'hotel. +We were speaking of the present chatelaine of Quesnay, Mademoiselle +Ward. I have never heard of Madame d'Armand." + +"Monsieur is serious?" + +"Truly!" I answered, making bold to quote his shibboleth. + +"Then monsieur has truly much to live for. Truly!" he chuckled openly, +convinced that he had obtained a marked advantage in a conflict of wits, +shaking his big head from side to side with an exasperating air of +knowingness. "Ah, truly! When that lady drives by, some day, in the +carriage from the chateau--eh? Then monsieur will see how much he has to +live for. Truly, truly, truly!" + +He had cleared the table, and now, with a final explosion of the word +which gave him such immoderate satisfaction, he lifted the tray and made +one of his precipitate departures. + +"Amedee," I said, as he slackened down to his sidelong leisure. + +"Monsieur?" + +"Who is Madame d'Armand?" + +"A guest of Mademoiselle Ward at Quesnay. In fact, she is in charge of +the chateau, since Mademoiselle Ward is, for the time, away." + +"Is she a Frenchwoman?" + +"It seems not. In fact, she is an American, though she dresses with so +much of taste. Ah, Madame Brossard admits it, and Madame Brossard knows +the art of dressing, for she spends a week of every winter in Rouen--and +besides there is Trouville itself only some kilometres distant. Madame +Brossard says that Mademoiselle Ward dresses with richness and splendour +and Madame d'Armand with economy, but beauty. Those were the words used +by Madame Brossard. Truly." + +"Madame d'Armand's name is French," I observed. + +"Yes, that is true," said Amedee thoughtfully. "No one can deny it; it +is a French name." He rested the tray upon a stump near by and scratched +his head. "I do not understand how that can be," he continued slowly. +"Jean Ferret, who is chief gardener at the chateau, is an acquaintance +of mine. We sometimes have a cup of cider at Pere Baudry's, a kilometre +down the road from here; and Jean Ferret has told me that she is an +American. And yet, as you say, monsieur, the name is French. Perhaps she +is French after all." + +"I believe," said I, "that if I struggled a few days over this puzzle, I +might come to the conclusion that Madame d'Armand is an American lady +who has married a Frenchman." + +The old man uttered an exclamation of triumph. + +"Ha! without doubt! Truly she must be an American lady who has married a +Frenchman. Monsieur has already solved the puzzle. Truly, truly!" And he +trulied himself across the darkness, to emerge in the light of the open +door of the kitchen with the word still rumbling in his throat. + +Now for a time there came the clinking of dishes, sounds as of pans and +kettles being scoured, the rolling gutturals of old Gaston, the cook, +and the treble pipings of young "Glouglou," his grandchild and scullion. +After a while the oblong of light from the kitchen door disappeared; the +voices departed; the stillness of the dark descended, and with it that +unreasonable sense of pathos which night in the country brings to the +heart of a wanderer. Then, out of the lonely silence, there issued a +strange, incongruous sound as an execrable voice essayed to produce the +semblance of an air odiously familiar about the streets of Paris some +three years past, and I became aware of a smell of some dreadful thing +burning. Beneath the arbour I perceived a glowing spark which seemed to +bear a certain relation to an oval whitish patch suggesting the front of +a shirt. It was Amedee, at ease, smoking his cigarette after the day's +work and convinced that he was singing. + +"Pour qu'j'finisse + Mon service + Au Tonkin je suis parti-- + Ah! quel beau pays, mesdames! + C'est l'paradis des p'tites femmes!" + +I rose from the chair on my little porch, to go to bed; but I was +reminded of something, and called to him. + +"Monsieur?" his voice came briskly. + +"How often do you see your friend, Jean Ferret, the gardener of +Quesnay?" + +"Frequently, monsieur. To-morrow morning I could easily carry a message +if--" + +"That is precisely what I do not wish. And you may as well not mention +me at all when you meet him." + +"It is understood. Perfectly." + +"If it is well understood, there will be a beautiful present for a good +maitre d'hotel some day." + +"Thank you, monsieur." + +"Good night, Amedee." + +"Good night, monsieur." + +Falling to sleep has always been an intricate matter with me: I liken it +to a nightly adventure in an enchanted palace. Weary-limbed and with +burning eyelids, after long waiting in the outer court of wakefulness, I +enter a dim, cool antechamber where the heavy garment of the body is +left behind and where, perhaps, some acquaintance or friend greets me +with a familiar speech or a bit of nonsense--or an unseen orchestra may +play music that I know. From here I go into a spacious apartment where +the air and light are of a fine clarity, for it is the hall of +revelations, and in it the secrets of secrets are told, mysteries are +resolved, perplexities cleared up, and sometimes I learn what to do +about a picture that has bothered me. This is where I would linger, for +beyond it I walk among crowding fantasies, delusions, terrors and shame, +to a curtain of darkness where they take my memory from me, and I know +nothing of my own adventures until I am pushed out of a secret door into +the morning sunlight. Amedee was the acquaintance who met me in the +antechamber to-night. He remarked that Madame d'Armand was the most +beautiful woman in the world, and vanished. And in the hall of +revelations I thought that I found a statue of her--but it was veiled. I +wished to remove the veil, but a passing stranger stopped and told me +laughingly that the veil was all that would ever be revealed of her to +me--of her, or any other woman! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +I was up with the birds in the morning; had my breakfast with them--a +very drowsy-eyed Amedee assisting--and made off for the forest to get +the sunrise through the branches, a pack on my back and three sandwiches +for lunch in my pocket. I returned only with the failing light of +evening, cheerfully tired and ready for a fine dinner and an early bed, +both of which the good inn supplied. It was my daily programme; a +healthy life "far from the world," as Amedee said, and I was sorry when +the serpent entered and disturbed it, though he was my own. He is a pet +of mine; has been with me since my childhood. He leaves me when I live +alone, for he loves company, but returns whenever my kind are about me. +There are many names for snakes of his breed, but, to deal charitably +with myself, I call mine Interest-In-Other-People's-Affairs. + +One evening I returned to find a big van from Dives, the nearest railway +station, drawn up in the courtyard at the foot of the stairs leading to +the gallery, and all of the people of the inn, from Madame Brossard (who +directed) to Glouglou (who madly attempted the heaviest pieces), busily +installing trunks, bags, and packing-cases in the suite engaged for the +"great man of science" on the second floor of the east wing of the +building. Neither the great man nor his companion was to be seen, +however, both having retired to their rooms immediately upon their +arrival--so Amedee informed me, as he wiped his brow after staggering up +the steps under a load of books wrapped in sacking. + +I made my evening ablutions removing a Joseph's coat of dust and paint; +and came forth from my pavilion, hoping that Professor Keredec and his +friend would not mind eating in the same garden with a man in a corduroy +jacket and knickerbockers; but the gentlemen continued invisible to the +public eye, and mine was the only table set for dinner in the garden. +Up-stairs the curtains were carefully drawn across all the windows of +the east wing; little leaks of orange, here and there, betraying the +lights within. Glouglou, bearing a tray of covered dishes, was just +entering the salon of the "Grande Suite," and the door closed quickly +after him. + +"It is to be supposed that Professor Keredec and his friend are fatigued +with their journey from Paris?" I began, a little later. + +"Monsieur, they did not seem fatigued," said Amedee. + +"But they dine in their own rooms to-night." + +"Every night, monsieur. It is the order of Professor Keredec. And with +their own valet-de-chambre to serve them. Eh?" He poured my coffee +solemnly. "That is mysterious, to say the least, isn't it?" + +"To say the very least," I agreed. + +"Monsieur the professor is a man of secrets, it appears," continued +Amedee. "When he wrote to Madame Brossard engaging his rooms, he +instructed her to be careful that none of us should mention even his +name; and to-day when he came, he spoke of his anxiety on that point." + +"But you did mention it." + +"To whom, monsieur?" asked the old fellow blankly. + +"To me." + +"But I told him I had not," said Amedee placidly. "It is the same +thing." + +"I wonder," I began, struck by a sudden thought, "if it will prove quite +the same thing in my own case. I suppose you have not mentioned the +circumstance of my being here to your friend, Jean Ferret of Quesnay?" + +He looked at me reproachfully. "Has monsieur been troubled by the people +of the chateau?" + +"'Troubled' by them?" + +"Have they come to seek out monsieur and disturb him? Have they done +anything whatever to show that they have heard monsieur is here?" + +"No, certainly they haven't," I was obliged to retract at once. "I beg +your pardon, Amedee." + +"Ah, monsieur!" He made a deprecatory bow (which plunged me still deeper +in shame), struck a match, and offered a light for my cigar with a +forgiving hand. "All the same," he pursued, "it seems very mysterious-- +this Keredec affair!" + +"To comprehend a great man, Amedee," I said, "is the next thing to +sharing his greatness." + +He blinked slightly, pondered a moment upon this sententious drivel, +then very properly ignored it, reverting to his puzzle. + +"But is it not incomprehensible that people should eat indoors this fine +weather?" + +I admitted that it was. I knew very well how hot and stuffy the salon of +Madame Brossard's "Grande Suite" must be, while the garden was fragrant +in the warm, dry night, and the outdoor air like a gentle tonic. +Nevertheless, Professor Keredec and his friend preferred the salon. + +When a man is leading a very quiet and isolated life, it is +inconceivable what trifles will occupy and concentrate his attention. +The smaller the community the more blowzy with gossip you are sure to +find it; and I have little doubt that when Friday learned enough +English, one of the first things Crusoe did was to tell him some scandal +about the goat. Thus, though I treated the "Keredec affair" with a +seeming airiness to Amedee, I cunningly drew the faithful rascal out, +and fed my curiosity upon his own (which, as time went on and the +mystery deepened, seemed likely to burst him), until, virtually, I was +receiving, every evening at dinner, a detailed report of the day's +doings of Professor Keredec and his companion. + +The reports were voluminous, the details few. The two gentlemen, as +Amedee would relate, spent their forenoons over books and writing in +their rooms. Professor Keredec's voice could often be heard in every +part of the inn; at times holding forth with such protracted vehemence +that only one explanation would suffice: the learned man was delivering +a lecture to his companion. + +"Say then!" exclaimed Amedee--"what king of madness is that? To make +orations for only one auditor!" + +He brushed away my suggestion that the auditor might be a stenographer +to whom the professor was dictating chapters for a new book. The +relation between the two men, he contended, was more like that between +teacher and pupil. "But a pupil with gray hair!" he finished, raising +his fat hands to heaven. "For that other monsieur has hair as gray as +mine." + +"That other monsieur" was farther described as a thin man, handsome, but +with a "singular air," nor could my colleague more satisfactorily define +this air, though he made a racking struggle to do so. + +"In what does the peculiarity of his manner lie?" I asked. + +"But it is not so much that his manner is peculiar, monsieur; it is an +air about him that is singular. Truly!" + +"But how is it singular?" + +"Monsieur, it is very, very singular." + +"You do not understand," I insisted. "What kind of singularity has the +air of 'that other monsieur'?" + +"It has," replied Amedee, with a powerful effort, "a very singular +singularity." + +This was as near as he could come, and, fearful of injuring him, I +abandoned that phase of our subject. + +The valet-de-chambre whom my fellow-lodgers had brought with them from +Paris contributed nothing to the inn's knowledge of his masters, I +learned. This struck me not only as odd, but unique, for French servants +tell one another everything, and more--very much more. "But this is a +silent man," said Amedee impressively. "Oh! very silent! He shakes his +head wisely, yet he will not open his mouth. However, that may be +because"--and now the explanation came--"because he was engaged only +last week and knows nothing. Also, he is but temporary; he returns to +Paris soon and Glouglou is to serve them." + +I ascertained that although "that other monsieur" had gray hair, he was +by no means a person of great age; indeed, Glouglou, who had seen him +oftener than any other of the staff, maintained that he was quite young. +Amedee's own opportunities for observation had been limited. Every +afternoon the two gentlemen went for a walk; but they always came down +from the gallery so quickly, he declared, and, leaving the inn by a rear +entrance, plunged so hastily into the nearest by-path leading to the +forest, that he caught little more than glimpses of them. They returned +after an hour or so, entering the inn with the same appearance of haste +to be out of sight, the professor always talking, "with the manner of an +orator, but in English." Nevertheless, Amedee remarked, it was certain +that Professor Keredec's friend was neither an American nor an +Englishman. "Why is it certain?" I asked. + +"Monsieur, he drinks nothing but water, he does not smoke, and Glouglou +says he speaks very pure French." + +"Glouglou is an authority who resolves the difficulty. 'That other +monsieur' is a Frenchman." + +"But, monsieur, he is smooth-shaven." + +"Perhaps he has been a maitre d'hotel." + +"Eh! I wish one that _I_ know could hope to dress as well when he +retires! Besides, Glouglou says that other monsieur eats his soup +silently." + +"I can find no flaw in the deduction," I said, rising to go to bed. "We +must leave it there for to-night." + +The next evening Amedee allowed me to perceive that he was concealing +something under his arm as he stoked the coffee-machine, and upon my +asking what it was, he glanced round the courtyard with histrionic +slyness, placed the object on the table beside my cap, and stepped back +to watch the impression, his manner that of one who declaims: "At last +the missing papers are before you!" + +"What is that?" I said. + +"It is a book." + +"I am persuaded by your candour, Amedee, as well as by the general +appearance of this article," I returned as I picked it up, "that you are +speaking the truth. But why do you bring it to me?" + +"Monsieur," he replied, in the tones of an old conspirator, "this +afternoon the professor and that other monsieur went as usual to walk in +the forest." He bent over me, pretending to be busy with the coffee- +machine, and lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "When they +returned, this book fell from the pocket of that other monsieur's coat +as he ascended the stair, and he did not notice. Later I shall return it +by Glouglou, but I thought it wise that monsieur should see it for +himself." + +The book was Wentworth's Algebra--elementary principles. Painful +recollections of my boyhood and the binomial theorem rose in my mind as +I let the leaves turn under my fingers. "What do you make of it?" I +asked. + +His tone became even more confidential. "Part of it, monsieur, is in +English; that is plain. I have found an English word in it that I know-- +the word 'O.' But much of the printing is also in Arabic." + +"Arabic!" I exclaimed. + +"Yes, monsieur, look there." He laid a fat forefinger on "(a + b)2 = a2 ++ 2ab + b2." "That is Arabic. Old Gaston has been to Algeria, and he +says that he knows Arabic as well as he does French. He looked at the +book and told me it was Arabic. Truly! Truly!" + +"Did he translate any of it for you?" + +"No, monsieur; his eyes pained him this afternoon. He says he will read +it to-morrow." + +"But you must return the book to-night." + +"That is true. Eh! It leaves the mystery deeper than ever, unless +monsieur can find some clue in those parts of the book that are +English." + +I shed no light upon him. The book had been Greek to me in my tender +years; it was a pleasure now to leave a fellow-being under the +impression that it was Arabic. + +But the volume took its little revenge upon me, for it increased my +curiosity about Professor Keredec and "that other monsieur." Why were +two grown men--one an eminent psychologist and the other a gray-haired +youth with a singular air--carrying about on their walks a text-book for +the instruction of boys of thirteen or fourteen? + +The next day that curiosity of mine was piqued in earnest. It rained and +I did not leave the inn, but sat under the great archway and took notes +in colour of the shining road, bright drenched fields, and dripping sky. +My back was toward the courtyard, that is, "three-quarters" to it, and +about noon I became distracted from my work by a strong self- +consciousness which came upon me without any visible or audible cause. +Obeying an impulse, I swung round on my camp-stool and looked up +directly at the gallery window of the salon of the "Grande Suite." + +A man with a great white beard was standing at the window, half hidden +by the curtain, watching me intently. + +He perceived that I saw him and dropped the curtain immediately, a speck +of colour in his buttonhole catching my eye as it fell. + +The spy was Professor Keredec. + +But why should he study me so slyly and yet so obviously? I had no +intention of intruding upon him. Nor was I a psychological "specimen," +though I began to suspect that "that other monsieur" WAS. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +I had been painting in various parts of the forest, studying the early +morning along the eastern fringe and moving deeper in as the day +advanced. For the stillness and warmth of noon I went to the very +woodland heart, and in the late afternoon moved westward to a glade--a +chance arena open to the sky, the scene of my most audacious endeavours, +for here I was trying to paint foliage luminous under those long shafts +of sunshine which grow thinner but ruddier toward sunset. A path closely +bordered by underbrush wound its way to the glade, crossed it, then +wandered away into shady dingles again; and with my easel pitched in the +mouth of this path, I sat at work, one late afternoon, wonderful for its +still loveliness. + +The path debouched abruptly on the glade and was so narrow that when I +leaned back my elbows were in the bushes, and it needed care to keep my +palette from being smirched by the leaves; though there was more room +for my canvas and easel, as I had placed them at arm's length before me, +fairly in the open. I had the ambition to paint a picture here--to do +the whole thing in the woods from day to day, instead of taking notes +for the studio--and was at work upon a very foolish experiment: I had +thought to render the light--broken by the branches and foliage--with +broken brush-work, a short stroke of the kind that stung an elder +painter to swear that its practitioners painted in shaking fear of the +concierge appearing for the studio rent. The attempt was alluring, but +when I rose from my camp-stool and stepped back into the path to get +more distance for my canvas, I saw what a mess I was making of it. At +the same time, my hand, falling into the capacious pocket of my jacket, +encountered a package, my lunch, which I had forgotten to eat, +whereupon, becoming suddenly aware that I was very hungry, I began to +eat Amedee's good sandwiches without moving from where I stood. + +Absorbed, gazing with abysmal disgust at my canvas, I was eating absent- +mindedly--and with all the restraint and dignity of a Georgia darky +attacking a watermelon--when a pleasant voice spoke from just behind me. + +"Pardon, monsieur; permit me to pass, if you please." + +That was all it said, very quietly and in French, but a gunshot might +have startled me less. + +I turned in confusion to behold a dark-eyed lady, charmingly dressed in +lilac and white, waiting for me to make way so that she could pass. + +Nay, let me leave no detail of my mortification unrecorded: I have just +said that I "turned in confusion"; the truth is that I jumped like a +kangaroo, but with infinitely less grace. And in my nervous haste to +clear her way, meaning only to push the camp-stool out of the path with +my foot, I put too much valour into the push, and with horror saw the +camp-stool rise in the air and drop to the ground again nearly a third +of the distance across the glade. + +Upon that I squeezed myself back into the bushes, my ears singing and my +cheeks burning. + +There are women who will meet or pass a strange man in the woods or +fields with as finished an air of being unaware of him (particularly if +he be a rather shabby painter no longer young) as if the encounter took +place on a city sidewalk; but this woman was not of that priggish kind. +Her straightforward glance recognised my existence as a fellow-being; +and she further acknowledged it by a faint smile, which was of courtesy +only, however, and admitted no reference to the fact that at the first +sound of her voice I had leaped into the air, kicked a camp-stool twenty +feet, and now stood blushing, so shamefully stuffed with sandwich that I +dared not speak. + +"Thank you," she said as she went by; and made me a little bow so +graceful that it almost consoled me for my caperings. + +I stood looking after her as she crossed the clearing and entered the +cool winding of the path on the other side. + +I stared and wished--wished that I could have painted her into my +picture, with the thin, ruddy sunshine flecking her dress; wished that I +had not cut such an idiotic figure. I stared until her filmy summer hat, +which was the last bit of her to disappear, had vanished. Then, +discovering that I still held the horrid remains of a sausage-sandwich +in my hand, I threw it into the underbrush with unnecessary force, and, +recovering my camp-stool, sat down to work again. + +I did not immediately begin. + +The passing of a pretty woman anywhere never comes to be quite of no +moment to a man, and the passing of a pretty woman in the greenwood is +an episode--even to a middle-aged landscape painter. + +"An episode?" quoth I. I should be ashamed to withhold the truth out of +my fear to be taken for a sentimentalist: this woman who had passed was +of great and instant charm; it was as if I had heard a serenade there in +the woods--and at thought of the jig I had danced to it my face burned +again. + +With a sigh of no meaning, I got my eyes down to my canvas and began to +peck at it perfunctorily, when a snapping of twigs underfoot and a +swishing of branches in the thicket warned me of a second intruder, not +approaching by the path, but forcing a way toward it through the +underbrush, and very briskly too, judging by the sounds. + +He burst out into the glade a few paces from me, a tall man in white +flannels, liberally decorated with brambles and clinging shreds of +underbrush. A streamer of vine had caught about his shoulders; there +were leaves on his bare head, and this, together with the youthful +sprightliness of his light figure and the naive activity of his +approach, gave me a very faunlike first impression of him. + +At sight of me he stopped short. + +"Have you seen a lady in a white and lilac dress and with roses in her +hat?" he demanded, omitting all preface and speaking with a quick +eagerness which caused me no wonder--for I had seen the lady. + +What did surprise me, however, was the instantaneous certainty with +which I recognised the speaker from Amedee's description; certainty +founded on the very item which had so dangerously strained the old +fellow's powers. + +My sudden gentleman was strikingly good-looking, his complexion so clear +and boyishly healthy, that, except for his gray hair, he might have +passed for twenty-two or twenty-three, and even as it was I guessed his +years short of thirty; but there are plenty of handsome young fellows +with prematurely gray hair, and, as Amedee said, though out of the world +we were near it. It was the new-comer's "singular air" which established +his identity. Amedee's vagueness had irked me, but the thing itself--the +"singular air"--was not at all vague. Instantly perceptible, it was an +investiture; marked, definite--and intangible. My interrogator was "that +other monsieur." + +In response to his question I asked him another: + +"Were the roses real or artificial?" + +"I don't know," he answered, with what I took to be a whimsical +assumption of gravity. "It wouldn't matter, would it? Have you seen +her?" + +He stooped to brush the brambles from his trousers, sending me a +sidelong glance from his blue eyes, which were brightly confident and +inquiring, like a boy's. At the same time it struck me that whatever the +nature of the singularity investing him it partook of nothing repellent, +but, on the contrary, measurably enhanced his attractiveness; making him +"different" and lending him a distinction which, without it, he might +have lacked. And yet, patent as this singularity must have been to the +dullest, it was something quite apart from any eccentricity of manner, +though, heaven knows, I was soon to think him odd enough. + +"Isn't your description," I said gravely, thinking to suit my humour to +his own, "somewhat too general? Over yonder a few miles lies Houlgate. +Trouville itself is not so far, and this is the season. A great many +white hats trimmed with roses might come for a stroll in these woods. If +you would complete the items--" and I waved my hand as if inviting him +to continue. + +"I have seen her only once before," he responded promptly, with a +seriousness apparently quite genuine. "That was from my window at an +inn, three days ago. She drove by in an open carriage without looking +up, but I could see that she was very handsome. No--" he broke off +abruptly, but as quickly resumed--"handsome isn't just what I mean. +Lovely, I should say. That is more like her and a better thing to be, +shouldn't you think so?" + +"Probably--yes--I think so," I stammered, in considerable amazement. + +"She went by quickly," he said, as if he were talking in the most +natural and ordinary way in the world, "but I noticed that while she was +in the shade of the inn her hair appeared to be dark, though when the +carriage got into the sunlight again it looked fair." + +I had noticed the same thing when the lady who had passed emerged from +the shadows of the path into the sunshine of the glade, but I did not +speak of it now; partly because he gave me no opportunity, partly +because I was almost too astonished to speak at all, for I was no longer +under the delusion that he had any humourous or whimsical intention. + +"A little while ago," he went on, "I was up in the branches of a tree +over yonder, and I caught a glimpse of a lady in a light dress and a +white hat and I thought it might be the same. She wore a dress like that +and a white hat with roses when she drove by the inn. I am very anxious +to see her again." + +"You seem to be!" + +"And haven't you seen her? Hasn't she passed this way?" + +He urged the question with the same strange eagerness which had marked +his manner from the first, a manner which confounded me by its absurd +resemblance to that of a boy who had not mixed with other boys and had +never been teased. And yet his expression was intelligent and alert; nor +was there anything abnormal or "queer" in his good-humoured gaze. + +"I think that I may have seen her," I began slowly; "but if you do not +know her I should not advise--" + +I was interrupted by a shout and the sound of a large body plunging in +the thicket. At this the face of "that other monsieur" flushed slightly; +he smiled, but seemed troubled. + +"That is a friend of mine," he said. "I am afraid he will want me to go +back with him." And he raised an answering shout. + +Professor Keredec floundered out through the last row of saplings and +bushes, his beard embellished with a broken twig, his big face red and +perspiring. He was a fine, a mighty man, ponderous of shoulder, +monumental of height, stupendous of girth; there was cloth enough in the +hot-looking black frock-coat he wore for the canopy of a small pavilion. +Half a dozen books were under his arm, and in his hand he carried a hat +which evidently belonged to "that other monsieur," for his own was on +his head. + +One glance of scrutiny and recognition he shot at me from his silver- +rimmed spectacles; and seized the young man by the arm. + +"Ha, my friend!" he exclaimed in a bass voice of astounding power and +depth, "that is one way to study botany: to jump out of the middle of a +high tree and to run like a crazy man!" He spoke with a strong accent +and a thunderous rolling of the "r." "What was I to think?" he demanded. +"What has arrived to you?" + +"I saw a lady I wished to follow," the other answered promptly. + +"A lady! What lady?" + +"The lady who passed the inn three days ago. I spoke of her then, you +remember." + +"Tonnerre de Dieu!" Keredec slapped his thigh with the sudden violence +of a man who remembers that he has forgotten something, and as a final +addition to my amazement, his voice rang more of remorse than of +reproach. "Have I never told you that to follow strange ladies is one of +the things you cannot do?" + +"That other monsieur" shook his head. "No, you have never told me that. +I do not understand it," he said, adding irrelevantly, "I believe this +gentleman knows her. He says he thinks he has seen her." + +"If you please, we must not trouble this gentleman about it," said the +professor hastily. "Put on your hat, in the name of a thousand saints, +and let us go!" + +"But I wish to ask him her name," urged the other, with something +curiously like the obstinacy of a child. "I wish--" + +"No, no!" Keredec took him by the arm. "We must go. We shall be late for +our dinner." + +"But why?" persisted the young man. + +"Not now!" The professor removed his broad felt hat and hurriedly wiped +his vast and steaming brow--a magnificent structure, corniced, at this +moment, with anxiety. "It is better if we do not discuss it now." + +"But I might not meet him again." + +Professor Keredec turned toward me with a half-desperate, half- +apologetic laugh which was like the rumbling of heavy wagons over a +block pavement; and in his flustered face I thought I read a signal of +genuine distress. + +"I do not know the lady," I said with some sharpness. "I have never seen +her until this afternoon." + +Upon this "that other monsieur" astonished me in good earnest. Searching +my eyes eagerly with his clear, inquisitive gaze, he took a step toward +me and said: + +"You are sure you are telling the truth?" + +The professor uttered an exclamation of horror, sprang forward, and +clutched his friend's arm again. "Malheureux!" he cried, and then to me: +"Sir, you will give him pardon if you can? He has no meaning to be +rude." + +"Rude?" The young man's voice showed both astonishment and pain. "Was +that rude? I didn't know. I didn't mean to be rude, God knows! Ah," he +said sadly, "I do nothing but make mistakes. I hope you will forgive +me." + +He lifted his hand as if in appeal, and let it drop to his side; and in +the action, as well as in the tone of his voice and his attitude of +contrition, there was something that reached me suddenly, with the touch +of pathos. + +"Never mind," I said. "I am only sorry that it was the truth." + +"Thank you," he said, and turned humbly to Keredec. + +"Ha, that is better!" shouted the great man, apparently relieved of a +vast weight. "We shall go home now and eat a good dinner. But first--" +his silver-rimmed spectacles twinkled upon me, and he bent his +Brobdingnagian back in a bow which against my will reminded me of the +curtseys performed by Orloff's dancing bears--"first let me speak some +words for myself. My dear sir"--he addressed himself to me with grave +formality--"do not suppose I have no realization that other excuses +should be made to you. Believe me, they shall be. It is now that I see +it is fortunate for us that you are our fellow-innsman at Les Trois +Pigeons." + +I was unable to resist the opportunity, and, affecting considerable +surprise, interrupted him with the apparently guileless query: + +"Why, how did you know that?" + +Professor Keredec's laughter rumbled again, growing deeper and louder +till it reverberated in the woods and a hundred hale old trees laughed +back at him. + +"Ho, ho, ho!" he shouted. "But you shall not take me for a window- +curtain spy! That is a fine reputation I give myself with you! Ho, ho!" + +Then, followed submissively by "that other monsieur," he strode into the +path and went thundering forth through the forest. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +No doubt the most absurd thing I could have done after the departure of +Professor Keredec and his singular friend would have been to settle +myself before my canvas again with the intention of painting--and that +is what I did. At least, I resumed my camp-stool and went through some +of the motions habitually connected with the act of painting. + +I remember that the first time in my juvenile reading I came upon the +phrase, "seated in a brown study," I pictured my hero in a brown chair, +beside a brown table, in a room hung with brown paper. Later, being +enlightened, I was ambitious to display the figure myself, but the uses +of ordinary correspondence allowed the occasion for it to remain +unoffered. Let me not only seize upon the present opportunity but gild +it, for the adventure of the afternoon left me in a study which was, at +its mildest, a profound purple. + +The confession has been made of my curiosity concerning my fellow- +lodgers at Les Trois Pigeons; however, it had been comparatively a +torpid growth; my meeting with them served to enlarge it so suddenly and +to such proportions that I wonder it did not strangle me. In fine, I sat +there brush-paddling my failure like an automaton, and saying over and +over aloud, "What is wrong with him? What is wrong with him?" + +This was the sillier inasmuch as the word "wrong" (bearing any +significance of a darkened mind) had not the slightest application to +"that other monsieur." There had been neither darkness nor dullness; his +eyes, his expression, his manner, betrayed no hint of wildness; rather +they bespoke a quick and amiable intelligence--the more amazing that he +had shown himself ignorant of things a child of ten would know. Amedee +and his fellows of Les Trois Pigeons had judged wrongly of his +nationality; his face was of the lean, right, American structure; but +they had hit the relation between the two men: Keredec was the master +and "that other monsieur" the scholar--a pupil studying boys' textbooks +and receiving instruction in matters and manners that children are +taught. And yet I could not believe him to be a simple case of arrested +development. For the matter of that, I did not like to think of him as a +"case" at all. There had been something about his bright youthfulness-- +perhaps it was his quick contrition for his rudeness, perhaps it was a +certain wistful quality he had, perhaps it was his very "singularity"-- +which appealed as directly to my liking as it did urgently to my +sympathy. + +I came out of my vari-coloured study with a start, caused by the +discovery that I had absent-mindedly squeezed upon my palette the entire +contents of an expensive tube of cobalt violet, for which I had no +present use; and sighing (for, of necessity, I am an economical man), I +postponed both of my problems till another day, determined to efface the +one with a palette knife and a rag soaked in turpentine, and to defer +the other until I should know more of my fellow-lodgers at Madame +Brossard's. + +The turpentine rag at least proved effective; I scoured away the last +tokens of my failure with it, wishing that life were like the canvas and +that men had knowledge of the right celestial turpentine. After that I +cleaned my brushes, packed and shouldered my kit, and, with a final +imprecation upon all sausage-sandwiches, took up my way once more to Les +Trois Pigeons. + +Presently I came upon an intersecting path where, on my previous +excursions, I had always borne to the right; but this evening, thinking +to discover a shorter cut, I went straight ahead. Striding along at a +good gait and chanting sonorously, "On Linden when the sun was low," I +left the rougher boscages of the forest behind me and emerged, just at +sunset, upon an orderly fringe of woodland where the ground was neat and +unencumbered, and the trimmed trees stood at polite distances, bowing +slightly to one another with small, well-bred rustlings. + +The light was somewhere between gold and pink when I came into this +lady's boudoir of a grove. "Isar flowing rapidly" ceased its tumult +abruptly, and Linden saw no sterner sight that evening: my voice and my +feet stopped simultaneously--for I stood upon Quesnay ground. + +Before me stretched a short broad avenue of turf, leading to the chateau +gates. These stood open, a gravelled driveway climbing thence by easy +stages between kempt shrubberies to the crest of the hill, where the +gray roof and red chimney-pots of the chateau were glimpsed among the +tree-tops. The slope was terraced with strips of flower-gardens and +intervals of sward; and against the green of a rising lawn I marked the +figure of a woman, pausing to bend over some flowering bush. The figure +was too slender to be mistaken for that of the present chatelaine of +Quesnay: in Miss Elizabeth's regal amplitude there was never any hint of +fragility. The lady upon the slope, then, I concluded, must be Madame +d'Armand, the inspiration of Amedee's "Monsieur has much to live for!" + +Once more this day I indorsed that worthy man's opinion, for, though I +was too far distant to see clearly, I knew that roses trimmed Madame +d'Armand's white hat, and that she had passed me, no long time since, in +the forest. + +I took off my cap. + +"I have the honour to salute you," I said aloud. "I make my apologies +for misbehaving with sandwiches and camp-stools in your presence, Madame +d'Armand." + +Something in my own pronunciation of her name struck me as reminiscent: +save for the prefix, it had sounded like "Harman," as a Frenchman might +pronounce it. + +Foreign names involve the French in terrible difficulties. Hughes, an +English friend of mine, has lived in France some five-and-thirty years +without reconciling himself to being known as "Monsieur Ig." + +"Armand" might easily be Jean Ferret's translation of "Harman." Had he +and Amedee in their admiration conferred the prefix because they +considered it a plausible accompaniment to the lady's gentle bearing? It +was not impossible; it was, I concluded, very probable. + +I had come far out of my way, so I retraced my steps to the intersection +of the paths, and thence made for the inn by my accustomed route. The +light failed under the roofing of foliage long before I was free of the +woods, and I emerged upon the road to Les Trois Pigeons when twilight +had turned to dusk. + +Not far along the road from where I came into it, stood an old, brown, +deep-thatched cottage--a branch of brushwood over the door prettily +beckoning travellers to the knowledge that cider was here for the +thirsty; and as I drew near I perceived that one availed himself of the +invitation. A group stood about the open door, the lamp-light from +within disclosing the head of the house filling a cup for the wayfarer; +while honest Mere Baudry and two generations of younger Baudrys +clustered to miss no word of the interchange of courtesies between Pere +Baudry and his chance patron. + +It afforded me some surprise to observe that the latter was a most +mundane and elaborate wayfarer, indeed; a small young man very lightly +made, like a jockey, and point-device in khaki, puttees, pongee cap, +white-and-green stock, a knapsack on his back, and a bamboo stick under +his arm; altogether equipped to such a high point of pedestrianism that +a cynical person might have been reminded of loud calls for wine at some +hostelry in the land of opera bouffe. He was speaking fluently, though +with a detestable accent, in a rough-and-ready, pick-up dialect of +Parisian slang, evidently under the pleasant delusion that he employed +the French language, while Pere Baudry contributed his share of the +conversation in a slow patois. As both men spoke at the same time and +neither understood two consecutive words the other said, it struck me +that the dialogue might prove unproductive of any highly important +results this side of Michaelmas; therefore, discovering that the very +pedestrian gentleman was making some sort of inquiry concerning Les +Trois Pigeons, I came to a halt and proffered aid. + +"Are you looking for Madame Brossard's?" I asked in English. + +The traveller uttered an exclamation and faced about with a jump, +birdlike for quickness. He did not reply to my question with the same +promptness; however, his deliberation denoted scrutiny, not sloth. He +stood peering at me sharply until I repeated it. Even then he protracted +his examination of me, a favour I was unable to return with any +interest, owing to the circumstance of his back being toward the light. +Nevertheless, I got a clear enough impression of his alert, well-poised +little figure, and of a hatchety little face, and a pair of shrewd +little eyes, which (I thought) held a fine little conceit of his whole +little person. It was a type of fellow-countryman not altogether unknown +about certain "American Bars" of Paris, and usually connected (more or +less directly) with what is known to the people of France as "le Sport." + +"Say," he responded in a voice of unpleasant nasality, finally deciding +upon speech, "you're 'Nummeric'n, ain't you?" + +"Yes," I returned. "I thought I heard you inquiring for--" + +"Well, m' friend, you can sting me!" he interrupted with condescending +jocularity. "My style French does f'r them camels up in Paris all right. +ME at Nice, Monte Carlo, Chantilly--bow to the p'fess'r; he's RIGHT! But +down here I don't seem to be GUD enough f'r these sheep-dogs; anyway +they bark different. I'm lukkin' fer a hotel called Les Trois Pigeons." + +"I am going there," I said; "I will show you the way." + +"Whur is't?" he asked, not moving. + +I pointed to the lights of the inn, flickering across the fields. +"Yonder--beyond the second turn of the road," I said, and, as he showed +no signs of accompanying me, I added, "I am rather late." + +"Oh, I ain't goin' there t'night. It's too dark t' see anything now," he +remarked, to my astonishment. "Dives and the choo-choo back t' little +ole Trouville f'r mine! I on'y wanted to take a LUK at this pigeon-house +joint." + +"Do you mind my inquiring," I said, "what you expected to see at Les +Trois Pigeons?" + +"Why!" he exclaimed, as if astonished at the question, "I'm a tourist. +Makin' a pedestrun trip t' all the reg'ler sights." And, inspired to +eloquence, he added, as an afterthought: "As it were." + +"A tourist?" I echoed, with perfect incredulity. + +"That's whut I am, m' friend," he returned firmly. "You don't have to +have a red dope-book in one hand and a thoid-class choo-choo ticket in +the other to be a tourist, do you?" + +"But if you will pardon me," I said, "where did you get the notion that +Les Trois Pigeons is one of the regular sights?" + +"Ain't it in all the books?" + +"I don't think that it is mentioned in any of the guide-books." + +"NO! I didn't say it WAS, m' friend," he retorted with contemptuous +pity. "I mean them history-books. It's in all o' THEM!" + +"This is strange news," said I. "I should be very much interested to +read them!" + +"Lookahere," he said, taking a step nearer me; "in oinest now, on your +woid: Didn' more'n half them Jeanne d'Arc tamales live at that hotel +wunst?" + +"Nobody of historical importance--or any other kind of importance, so +far as I know--ever lived there," I informed him. "The older portions of +the inn once belonged to an ancient farm-house, that is all." + +"On the level," he demanded, "didn't that William the Conker nor NONE o' +them ancient gilt-edges live there?" + +"No." + +"Stung again!" He broke into a sudden loud cackle of laughter. "Why! the +feller tole me 'at this here Pigeon place was all three rings when it +come t' history. Yessir! Tall, thin feller he was, in a three-button +cutaway, English make, and kind of red-complected, with a sandy MUS- +tache," pursued the pedestrian, apparently fearing his narrative might +lack colour. "I met him right comin' out o' the Casino at Trouville, +yes'day aft'noon; c'udn' a' b'en more'n four o'clock--hol' on though, +yes 'twas, 'twas nearer five, about twunty minutes t' five, say--an' +this feller tells me--" He cackled with laughter as palpably +disingenuous as the corroborative details he thought necessary to +muster, then he became serious, as if marvelling at his own wondrous +verdancy. "M' friend, that feller soitn'y found me easy. But he can't +say I ain't game; he passes me the limes, but I'm jest man enough to +drink his health fer it in this sweet, sound ole-fashioned cider 'at +ain't got a headache in a barrel of it. He played me GUD, and here's TO +him!" + +Despite the heartiness of the sentiment, my honest tourist's enthusiasm +seemed largely histrionic, and his quaffing of the beaker too +reminiscent of drain-the-wine-cup-free in the second row of the chorus, +for he absently allowed it to dangle from his hand before raising it to +his lips. However, not all of its contents was spilled, and he swallowed +a mouthful of the sweet, sound, old-fashioned cider--but by mistake, I +was led to suppose, from the expression of displeasure which became so +deeply marked upon his countenance as to be noticeable, even in the +feeble lamplight. + +I tarried no longer, but bidding this good youth and the generations of +Baudry good-night, hastened on to my belated dinner. + +"Amedee," I said, when my cigar was lighted and the usual hour of +consultation had arrived; "isn't that old lock on the chest where Madame +Brossard keeps her silver getting rather rusty?" + +"Monsieur, we have no thieves here. We are out of the world." + +"Yes, but Trouville is not so far away." + +"Truly." + +"Many strange people go to Trouville: grand-dukes, millionaires, opera +singers, princes, jockeys, gamblers--" + +"Truly, truly!" + +"And tourists," I finished. + +"That is well known," assented Amedee, nodding. + +"It follows," I continued with the impressiveness of all logicians, +"that many strange people may come from Trouville. In their excursions +to the surrounding points of interest--" + +"Eh, monsieur, but that is true!" he interrupted, laying his right +forefinger across the bridge of his nose, which was his gesture when he +remembered anything suddenly. "There was a strange monsieur from +Trouville here this very day." + +"What kind of person was he?" + +"A foreigner, but I could not tell from what country." + +"What time of day was he here?" I asked, with growing interest. + +"Toward the middle of the afternoon. I was alone, except for Glouglou, +when he came. He wished to see the whole house and I showed him what I +could, except of course monsieur's pavilion, and the Grande Suite. +Monsieur the Professor and that other monsieur had gone to the forest, +but I did not feel at liberty to exhibit their rooms without Madame +Brossard's permission, and she was spending the day at Dives. Besides," +added the good man, languidly snapping a napkin at a moth near one of +the candles, "the doors were locked." + +"This person was a tourist?" I asked, after a pause during which Amedee +seemed peacefully unaware of the rather concentrated gaze I had fixed +upon him. "Of a kind. In speaking he employed many peculiar expressions, +more like a thief of a Parisian cabman than of the polite world." + +"The devil he did!" said I. "Did he tell you why he wished to see the +whole house? Did he contemplate taking rooms here?" + +"No, monsieur, it appears that his interest was historical. At first I +should not have taken him for a man of learning, yet he gave me a great +piece of information; a thing quite new to me, though I have lived here +so many years. We are distinguished in history, it seems, and at one +time both William the Conqueror and that brave Jeanne d'Arc--" + +I interrupted sharply, dropping my cigar and leaning across the table: + +"How was this person dressed?" + +"Monsieur, he was very much the pedestrian." + +And so, for that evening, we had something to talk about besides "that +other monsieur"; indeed, we found our subject so absorbing that I forgot +to ask Amedee whether it was he or Jean Ferret who had prefixed the "de" +to "Armand." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The cat that fell from the top of the Washington monument, and scampered +off unhurt was killed by a dog at the next corner. Thus a certain +painter-man, winged with canvases and easel, might have been seen to +depart hurriedly from a poppy-sprinkled field, an infuriated Norman +stallion in close attendance, and to fly safely over a stone wall of +good height, only to turn his ankle upon an unconsidered pebble, some +ten paces farther on; the nose of the stallion projected over the wall, +snorting joy thereat. The ankle was one which had turned aforetime; it +was an old weakness: moreover, it was mine. I was the painter-man. + +I could count on little less than a week of idleness within the confines +of Les Trois Pigeons; and reclining among cushions in a wicker long- +chair looking out from my pavilion upon the drowsy garden on a hot +noontide, I did not much care. It was cooler indoors, comfortable +enough; the open door framed the courtyard where pigeons were strutting +on the gravel walks between flower-beds. Beyond, and thrown deeper into +the perspective by the outer frame of the great archway, road and fields +and forest fringes were revealed, lying tremulously in the hot sunshine. +The foreground gained a human (though not lively) interest from the +ample figure of our maitre d'hotel reposing in a rustic chair which had +enjoyed the shade of an arbour about an hour earlier, when first +occupied, but now stood in the broiling sun. At times Amedee's upper +eyelids lifted as much as the sixteenth of an inch, and he made a hazy +gesture as if to wave the sun away, or, when the table-cloth upon his +left arm slid slowly earthward, he adjusted it with a petulant jerk, +without material interruption to his siesta. Meanwhile Glouglou, rolling +and smoking cigarettes in the shade of a clump of lilac, watched with +button eyes the noddings of his superior, and, at the cost of some +convulsive writhings, constrained himself to silent laughter. + +A heavy step crunched the gravel and I heard my name pronounced in a +deep inquiring rumble--the voice of Professor Keredec, no less. Nor was +I greatly surprised, since our meeting in the forest had led me to +expect some advances on his part toward friendliness, or, at least, in +the direction of a better acquaintance. However, I withheld my reply for +a moment to make sure I had heard aright. + +The name was repeated. + +"Here I am," I called, "in the pavilion, if you wish to see me." + +"Aha! I hear you become an invalid, my dear sir." With that the +professor's great bulk loomed in the doorway against the glare outside. +"I have come to condole with you, if you allow it." + +"To smoke with me, too, I hope," I said, not a little pleased. + +"That I will do," he returned, and came in slowly, walking with +perceptible lameness. "The sympathy I offer is genuine: it is not only +from the heart, it is from the latissimus dorsi" he continued, seating +himself with a cavernous groan. "I am your confrere in illness, my dear +sir. I have choosed this fine weather for rheumatism of the back." + +"I hope it is not painful." + +"Ha, it is so-so," he rumbled, removing his spectacles and wiping his +eyes, dazzled by the sun. "There is more of me than of most men--more to +suffer. Nature was generous to the little germs when she made this big +Keredec; she offered them room for their campaigns of war." + +"You'll take a cigarette?" + +"I thank you; if you do not mind, I smoke my pipe." + +He took from his pocket a worn leather case, which he opened, disclosing +a small, browned clay bowl of the kind workmen use; and, fitting it with +a red stem, he filled it with a dark and sinister tobacco from a pouch. +"Always my pipe for me," he said, and applied a match, inhaling the +smoke as other men inhale the light smoke of cigarettes. "Ha, it is +good! It is wicked for the insides, but it is good for the soul." And +clouds wreathed his great beard like a storm on Mont Blanc as he +concluded, with gusto, "It is my first pipe since yesterday." + +"That is being a good smoker," I ventured sententiously; "to whet +indulgence with abstinence." + +"My dear sir," he protested, "I am a man without even enough virtue to +be an epicure. When I am alone I am a chimney with no hebdomadary +repose; I smoke forever. It is on account of my young friend I am +temperate now." + +"He has never smoked, your young friend?" I asked, glancing at my +visitor rather curiously, I fear. + +"Mr. Saffren has no vices." Professor Keredec replaced his silver-rimmed +spectacles and turned them upon me with serene benevolence. "He is in +good condition, all pure, like little children--and so if I smoke near +him he chokes and has water at the eyes, though he does not complain. +Just now I take a vacation: it is his hour for study, but I think he +looks more out of the front window than at his book. He looks very much +from the window"--there was a muttering of subterranean thunder +somewhere, which I was able to locate in the professor's torso, and took +to be his expression of a chuckle--"yes, very much, since the passing of +that charming lady some days ago." + +"You say your young friend's name is Saffren?" + +"Oliver Saffren." The benevolent gaze continued to rest upon me, but a +shadow like a faint anxiety darkened the Homeric brow, and an odd notion +entered my mind (without any good reason) that Professor Keredec was +wondering what I thought of the name. I uttered some commonplace +syllable of no moment, and there ensued a pause during which the seeming +shadow upon my visitor's forehead became a reality, deepening to a look +of perplexity and trouble. Finally he said abruptly: "It is about him +that I have come to talk to you." + +"I shall be very glad," I murmured, but he brushed the callow formality +aside with a gesture of remonstrance. + +"Ha, my dear sir," he cried; "but you are a man of feeling! We are both +old enough to deal with more than just these little words of the mouth! +It was the way you have received my poor young gentleman's excuses when +he was so rude, which make me wish to talk with you on such a subject; +it is why I would not have you believe Mr. Saffren and me two very +suspected individuals who hide here like two bad criminals!" + +"No, no," I protested hastily. "The name of Professor Keredec--" + +"The name of NO man," he thundered, interrupting, "can protect his +reputation when he is caught peeping from a curtain! Ha, my dear sir! I +know what you think. You think, 'He is a nice fine man, that old +professor, oh, very nice--only he hides behind the curtains sometimes! +Very fine man, oh, yes; only he is a spy.' Eh? Ha, ha! That is what you +have been thinking, my dear sir!" + +"Not at all," I laughed; "I thought you might fear that _I_ was a spy." + +"Eh?" He became sharply serious upon the instant. "What made you think +that?" + +"I supposed you might be conducting some experiments, or perhaps writing +a book which you wished to keep from the public for a time, and that +possibly you might imagine that I was a reporter." + +"So! And THAT is all," he returned, with evident relief. "No, my dear +sir, I was the spy; it is the truth; and I was spying upon you. I +confess my shame. I wish very much to know what you were like, what kind +of a man you are. And so," he concluded with an opening of the hands, +palms upward, as if to show that nothing remained for concealment, "and +so I have watched you." + +"Why?" I asked. + +"The explanation is so simple: it was necessary." + +"Because of--of Mr. Saffren?" I said slowly, and with some trepidation. + +"Precisely." The professor exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Because I am +sensitive for him, and because in a certain way I am--how should it be +said?--perhaps it is near the truth to say, I am his guardian." + +"I see." + +"Forgive me," he rejoined quickly, "but I am afraid you do not see. I am +not his guardian by the law." + +"I had not supposed that you were," I said. + +"Why not?" + +"Because, though he puzzled me and I do not understand his case--his +case, so to speak, I have not for a moment thought him insane." + +"Ha, my dear sir, you are right!" exclaimed Keredec, beaming on me, much +pleased. "You are a thousand times right; he is as sane as yourself or +myself or as anybody in the whole wide world! Ha! he is now much MORE +sane, for his mind is not yet confused and becobwebbed with the useless +things you and I put into ours. It is open and clear like the little +children's mind. And it is a good mind! It is only a little learning, a +little experience, that he lacks. A few months more--ha, at the +greatest, a year from now--and he will not be different any longer; he +will be like the rest of us. Only"--the professor leaned forward and his +big fist came down on the arm of his chair--"he shall be better than the +rest of us! But if strange people were to see him now," he continued, +leaning back and dropping his voice to a more confidential tone, "it +would not do. This poor world is full of fools; there are so many who +judge quickly. If they should see him now, they might think he is not +just right in his brain; and then, as it could happen so easily, those +same people might meet him again after a while. 'Ha,' they would say, +'there was a time when that young man was insane. I knew him!' And so he +might go through his life with those clouds over him. Those clouds are +black clouds, they can make more harm than our old sins, and I wish to +save my friend from them. So I have brought him here to this quiet place +where nobody comes, and we can keep from meeting any foolish people. +But, my dear sir"--he leaned forward again, and spoke emphatically--"it +would be barbarous for men of intelligence to live in the same house and +go always hiding from one another! Let us dine together this evening, if +you will, and not only this evening but every evening you are willing to +share with us and do not wish to be alone. It will be good for us. We +are three men like hermits, far out of the world, but--a thousand +saints!--let us be civilised to one another!" + +"With all my heart," I said. + +"Ha! I wish you to know my young man," Keredec went on. "You will like +him--no man of feeling could keep himself from liking him--and he is +your fellow-countryman. I hope you will be his friend. He should make +friends, for he needs them." + +"I think he has a host of them," said I, "in Professor Keredec." + +My visitor looked at me quizzically for a moment, shook his head and +sighed. "That is only one small man in a big body, that Professor +Keredec. And yet," he went on sadly, "it is all the friends that poor +boy has in this world. You will dine with us to-night?" + +Acquiescing cheerfully, I added: "You will join me at the table on my +veranda, won't you? I can hobble that far but not much farther." + +Before answering he cast a sidelong glance at the arrangement of things +outside the door. The screen of honeysuckle ran partly across the front +of the little porch, about half of which it concealed from the garden +and consequently from the road beyond the archway. I saw that he took +note of this before he pointed to that corner of the veranda most +closely screened by the vines and said: + +"May the table be placed yonder?" + +"Certainly; I often have it there, even when I am alone." + +"Ha, that is good," he exclaimed. "It is not human for a Frenchman to +eat in the house in good weather." + +"It is a pity," I said, "that I should have been such a bugbear." + +This remark was thoroughly disingenuous, for, although I did not doubt +that anything he told me was perfectly true, nor that he had made as +complete a revelation as he thought consistent with his duty toward the +young man in his charge, I did not believe that his former precautions +were altogether due to my presence at the inn. + +And I was certain that while he might fear for his friend some chance +repute of insanity, he had greater terrors than that. As to their nature +I had no clew; nor was it my affair to be guessing; but whatever they +were, the days of security at Les Trois Pigeons had somewhat eased +Professor Keredec's mind in regard to them. At least, his anxiety was +sufficiently assuaged to risk dining out of doors with only my screen of +honeysuckle between his charge and curious eyes. So much was evident. + +"The reproach is deserved," he returned, after a pause. "It is to be +wished that all our bugbears might offer as pleasant a revelation, if we +had the courage, or the slyness"--he laughed--"to investigate." + +I made a reply of similar gallantry and he got to his feet, rubbing his +back as he rose. + +"Ha, I am old! old! Rheumatism in warm weather: that is ugly. Now I must +go to my boy and see what he can make of his Gibbon. The poor fellow! I +think he finds the decay of Rome worse than rheumatism in summer!" + +He replaced his pipe in its case, and promising heartily that it should +not be the last he would smoke in my company and domain, was making +slowly for the door when he paused at a sound from the road. + +We heard the rapid hoof-beats of a mettled horse. He crossed our vision +and the open archway: a high-stepping hackney going well, driven by a +lady in a light trap which was half full of wild flowers. It was a quick +picture, like a flash of the cinematograph, but the pose of the lady as +a driver was seen to be of a commanding grace, and though she was not in +white but in light blue, and her plain sailor hat was certainly not +trimmed with roses, I had not the least difficulty in recognising her. +At the same instant there was a hurried clatter of foot-steps upon the +stairway leading from the gallery; the startled pigeons fluttered up +from the garden-path, betaking themselves to flight, and "that other +monsieur" came leaping across the courtyard, through the archway and +into the road. + +"Glouglou! Look quickly!" he called loudly, in French, as he came; "Who +is that lady?" + +Glouglou would have replied, but the words were taken out of his mouth. +Amedee awoke with a frantic start and launched himself at the archway, +carroming from its nearest corner and hurtling onward at a speed which +for once did not diminish in proportion to his progress. + +"That lady, monsieur?" he gasped, checking himself at the young man's +side and gazing after the trap, "that is Madame d'Armand." + +"Madame d'Armand," Saffren repeated the name slowly. "Her name is Madame +d'Armand." + +"Yes, monsieur," said Amedee complacently; "it is an American lady who +has married a French nobleman." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Like most painters, I have supposed the tools of my craft harder to +manipulate than those of others. The use of words, particularly, seemed +readier, handier for the contrivance of effects than pigments. I thought +the language of words less elusive than that of colour, leaving smaller +margin for unintended effects; and, believing in complacent good faith +that words conveyed exact meanings exactly, it was my innocent +conception that almost anything might be so described in words that all +who read must inevitably perceive that thing precisely. If this were +true, there would be little work for the lawyers, who produce such +tortured pages in the struggle to be definite, who swing riches from one +family to another, save men from violent death or send them to it, and +earn fortunes for themselves through the dangerous inadequacies of +words. I have learned how great was my mistake, and now I am wishing I +could shift paper for canvas, that I might paint the young man who came +to interest me so deeply. I wish I might present him here in colour +instead of trusting to this unstable business of words, so wily and +undependable, with their shimmering values, that you cannot turn your +back upon them for two minutes but they will be shouting a hundred +things which they were not meant to tell. + +To make the best of necessity: what I have written of him--my first +impressions--must be taken as the picture, although it be but a gossamer +sketch in the air, instead of definite work with well-ground pigments to +show forth a portrait, to make you see flesh and blood. It must take the +place of something contrived with my own tools to reveal what the +following days revealed him to me, and what it was about him (evasive of +description) which made me so soon, as Keredec wished, his friend. + +Life among our kin and kind is made pleasanter by our daily platitudes. +Who is more tedious than the man incessantly struggling to avoid the +banal? Nature rules that such a one will produce nothing better than +epigram and paradox, saying old, old things in a new way, or merely +shifting object for subject--and his wife's face, when he shines for a +circle, is worth a glance. With no further apology, I declare that I am +a person who has felt few positive likes or dislikes for people in this +life, and I did deeply like my fellow-lodgers at Les Trois Pigeons. +Liking for both men increased with acquaintance, and for the younger I +came to feel, in addition, a kind of championship, doubtless in some +measure due to what Keredec had told me of him, but more to that half- +humourous sense of protectiveness that we always have for those young +people whose untempered and innocent outlook makes us feel, as we say, +"a thousand years old." + +The afternoon following our first dinner together, the two, in returning +from their walk, came into the pavilion with cheerful greetings, instead +of going to their rooms as usual, and Keredec, declaring that the open +air had "dispersed" his rheumatism, asked if he might overhaul some of +my little canvases and boards. I explained that they consisted mainly of +"notes" for future use, but consented willingly; whereupon he arranged a +number of them as for exhibition and delivered himself impromptu of the +most vehemently instructive lecture on art I had ever heard. Beginning +with the family, the tribe, and the totem-pole, he was able to +demonstrate a theory that art was not only useful to society but its +primary necessity; a curious thought, probably more attributable to the +fact that he was a Frenchman than to that of his being a scientist. + +"And here," he said in the course of his demonstration, pointing to a +sketch which I had made one morning just after sunrise--"here you can +see real sunshine. One certain day there came those few certain moment' +at the sunrise when the light was like this. Those few moment', where +are they? They have disappeared, gone for eternally. They went"--he +snapped his fingers--"like that. Yet here they are--ha!--forever!" + +"But it doesn't look like sunshine," said Oliver Saffren hesitatingly, +stating a disconcerting but incontrovertible truth; "it only seems to +look like it because--isn't it because it's so much brighter than the +rest of the picture? I doubt if paint CAN look like sunshine." He turned +from the sketch, caught Keredec's gathering frown, and his face flushed +painfully. "Ah!" he cried, "I shouldn't have said it?" + +I interposed to reassure him, exclaiming that it were a godsend indeed, +did all our critics merely speak the plain truth as they see it for +themselves. The professor would not have it so, and cut me off. + +"No, no, no, my dear sir!" he shouted. "You speak with kindness, but you +put some wrong ideas in his head!" + +Saffren's look of trouble deepened. "I don't understand," he murmured. +"I thought you said always to speak the truth just as I see it." "I have +telled you," Keredec declared vehemently, "nothing of the kind!" + +"But only yesterday--" + +"Never!" + +"I understood--" + +"Then you understood only one-half! I say, 'Speak the truth as you see +it, when you speak.' I did not tell you to speak! How much time have you +give' to study sunshine and paint? What do you know about them?" + +"Nothing," answered the other humbly. + +A profound rumbling was heard, and the frown disappeared from Professor +Keredec's brow like the vanishing of the shadow of a little cloud from +the dome of some great benevolent and scientific institute. He dropped a +weighty hand on his young friend's shoulder, and, in high good-humour, +thundered: + +"Then you are a critic! Knowing nothing of sunshine except that it warms +you, and never having touched paint, you are going to tell about them to +a man who spends his life studying them! You look up in the night and +the truth you see is that the moon and stars are crossing the ocean. You +will tell that to the astronomer? Ha! The truth is what the masters see. +When you know what they see, you may speak." + +At dinner the night before, it had struck me that Saffren was a rather +silent young man by habit, and now I thought I began to understand the +reason. I hinted as much, saying, "That would make a quiet world of it." + +"All the better, my dear sir!" The professor turned beamingly upon me +and continued, dropping into a Whistlerian mannerism that he had +sometimes: "You must not blame that great wind of a Keredec for +preaching at other people to listen. It gives the poor man more room for +himself to talk!" + +I found his talk worth hearing. + +I would show you, if I could, our pleasant evenings of lingering, after +coffee, behind the tremulous screen of honeysuckle, with the night very +dark and quiet beyond the warm nimbus of our candle-light, the faces of +my two companions clear-obscure in a mellow shadow like the middle tones +of a Rembrandt, and the professor, good man, talking wonderfully of +everything under the stars and over them,--while Oliver Saffren and I +sat under the spell of the big, kind voice, the young man listening with +the same eagerness which marked him when he spoke. It was an eagerness +to understand, not to interrupt. + +These were our evenings. In the afternoons the two went for their walk +as usual, though now they did not plunge out of sight of the main road +with the noticeable haste which Amedee had described. As time pressed, I +perceived the caution of Keredec visibly slackening. Whatever he had +feared, the obscurity and continued quiet of LES TROIS PIGEONS reassured +him; he felt more and more secure in this sheltered retreat, "far out of +the world," and obviously thought no danger imminent. So the days went +by, uneventful for my new friends,--days of warm idleness for me. Let +them go unnarrated; we pass to the event. + +My ankle had taken its wonted time to recover. I was on my feet again +and into the woods--not traversing, on the way, a certain poppy- +sprinkled field whence a fine Norman stallion snorted ridicule over a +wall. But the fortune of Keredec was to sink as I rose. His summer +rheumatism returned, came to grips with him, laid him low. We hobbled +together for a day or so, then I threw away my stick and he exchanged +his for an improvised crutch. By the time I was fit to run, he was able +to do little better than to creep--might well have taken to his bed. But +as he insisted that his pupil should not forego the daily long walks and +the health of the forest, it came to pass that Saffren often made me the +objective of his rambles. At dinner he usually asked in what portion of +the forest I should be painting late the next afternoon, and I got in +the habit of expecting him to join me toward sunset. We located each +other through a code of yodeling that we arranged; his part of these +vocal gymnastics being very pleasant to hear, for he had a flexible, +rich voice. I shudder to recall how largely my own performances partook +of the grotesque. But in the forest where were no musical persons (I +supposed) to take hurt from whatever noise I made, I would let go with +all the lungs I had; he followed the horrid sounds to their origin, and +we would return to the inn together. + +On these homeward walks I found him a good companion, and that is +something not to be under-valued by a selfish man who lives for himself +and his own little ways and his own little thoughts, and for very little +else,--which is the kind of man (as I have already confessed) that I +was--deserving the pity of all happily or unhappily married persons. + +Responsive in kind to either a talkative mood or a silent one, always +gentle in manner, and always unobtrusively melancholy, Saffren never +took the initiative, though now and then he asked a question about some +rather simple matter which might be puzzling him. Whatever the answer, +he usually received it in silence, apparently turning the thing over and +over and inside out in his mind. He was almost tremulously sensitive, +yet not vain, for he was neither afraid nor ashamed to expose his +ignorance, his amazing lack of experience. He had a greater trouble, one +that I had not fathomed. Sometimes there came over his face a look of +importunate wistfulness and distressed perplexity, and he seemed on the +point of breaking out with something that he wished to tell me--or to +ask me, for it might have been a question--but he always kept it back. +Keredec's training seldom lost its hold upon him. + +I had gone back to my glade again, and to the thin sunshine, which came +a little earlier, now that we were deep in July; and one afternoon I sat +in the mouth of the path, just where I had played the bounding harlequin +for the benefit of the lovely visitor at Quesnay. It was warm in the +woods and quiet, warm with the heat of July, still with a July +stillness. The leaves had no motion; if there were birds or insects +within hearing they must have been asleep; the quivering flight of a +butterfly in that languid air seemed, by contrast, quite a commotion; a +humming-bird would have made a riot. + +I heard the light snapping of a twig and a swish of branches from the +direction in which I faced; evidently some one was approaching the +glade, though concealed from me for the moment by the winding of the +path. Taking it for Saffren, as a matter of course (for we had arranged +to meet at that time and place), I raised my voice in what I intended +for a merry yodel of greeting. + +I yodeled loud, I yodeled long. Knowing my own deficiencies in this art, +I had adopted the cunning sinner's policy toward sin and made a joke of +it: thus, since my best performance was not unsuggestive of calamity in +the poultry yard, I made it worse. And then and there, when my mouth was +at its widest in the production of these shocking ulla-hootings, the +person approaching came round a turn in the path, and within full sight +of me. To my ultimate, utmost horror, it was Madame d'Armand. + +I grew so furiously red that it burned me. I had not the courage to run, +though I could have prayed that she might take me for what I seemed-- +plainly a lunatic, whooping the lonely peace of the woods into +pandemonium--and turn back. But she kept straight on, must inevitably +reach the glade and cross it, and I calculated wretchedly that at the +rate she was walking, unhurried but not lagging, it would be about +thirty seconds before she passed me. Then suddenly, while I waited in +sizzling shame, a clear voice rang out from a distance in an answering +yodel to mine, and I thanked heaven for its mercies; at least she would +see that my antics had some reason. + +She stopped short, in a half-step, as if a little startled, one arm +raised to push away a thin green branch that crossed the path at +shoulder-height; and her attitude was so charming as she paused, +detained to listen by this other voice with its musical youthfulness, +that for a second I thought crossly of all the young men in the world. + +There was a final call, clear and loud as a bugle, and she turned to the +direction whence it came, so that her back was toward me. Then Oliver +Saffren came running lightly round the turn of the path, near her and +facing her. + +He stopped as short as she had. + +Her hand dropped from the slender branch, and pressed against her side. + +He lifted his hat and spoke to her, and I thought she made some quick +reply in a low voice, though I could not be sure. + +She held that startled attitude a moment longer, then turned and crossed +the glade so hurriedly that it was almost as if she ran away from him. I +had moved aside with my easel and camp-stool, but she passed close to me +as she entered the path again on my side of the glade. She did not seem +to see me, her dark eyes stared widely straight ahead, her lips were +parted, and she looked white and frightened. + +She disappeared very quickly in the windings of the path. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +He came on more slowly, his eyes following her as she vanished, then +turning to me with a rather pitiful apprehension--a look like that I +remember to have seen (some hundreds of years ago) on the face of a +freshman, glancing up from his book to find his doorway ominously +filling with sophomores. + +I stepped out to meet him, indignant upon several counts, most of all +upon his own. I knew there was no offence in his heart, not the remotest +rude intent, but the fact was before me that he had frightened a woman, +had given this very lovely guest of my friends good cause to hold him a +boor, if she did not, indeed, think him (as she probably thought me) an +outright lunatic! I said: + +"You spoke to that lady!" And my voice sounded unexpectedly harsh and +sharp to my own ears, for I had meant to speak quietly. + +"I know--I know. It--it was wrong," he stammered. "I knew I shouldn't-- +and I couldn't help it." + +"You expect me to believe that?" + +"It's the truth; I couldn't!" + +I laughed sceptically; and he flinched, but repeated that what he had +said was only the truth. "I don't understand; it was all beyond me," he +added huskily. + +"What was it you said to her?" + +"I spoke her name--'Madame d'Armand.'" + +"You said more than that!" + +"I asked her if she would let me see her again." + +"What else?" + +"Nothing," he answered humbly. "And then she--then for a moment it +seemed--for a moment she didn't seem to be able to speak--" + +"I should think not!" I shouted, and burst out at him with satirical +laughter. He stood patiently enduring it, his lowered eyes following the +aimless movements of his hands, which were twisting and untwisting his +flexible straw hat; and it might have struck me as nearer akin to +tragedy rather than to a thing for laughter: this spectacle of a grown +man so like a schoolboy before the master, shamefaced over a stammered +confession. + +"But she did say something to you, didn't she?" I asked finally, with +the gentleness of a cross-examining lawyer. + +"Yes--after that moment." + +"Well, what was it?" + +"She said, 'Not now!' That was all." + +"I suppose that was all she had breath for! It was just the inconsequent +and meaningless thing a frightened woman WOULD say!" + +"Meaningless?" he repeated, and looked up wonderingly. + +"Did you take it for an appointment?" I roared, quite out of patience, +and losing my temper completely. + +"No, no, no! She said only that, and then--" + +"Then she turned and ran away from you!" + +"Yes," he said, swallowing painfully. + +"That PLEASED you," I stormed, "to frighten a woman in the woods--to +make her feel that she can't walk here in safety! You ENJOY doing things +like that?" + +He looked at me with disconcerting steadiness for a moment, and, without +offering any other response, turned aside, resting his arm against the +trunk of a tree and gazing into the quiet forest. + +I set about packing my traps, grumbling various sarcasms, the last +mutterings of a departed storm, for already I realised that I had taken +out my own mortification upon him, and I was stricken with remorse. And +yet, so contrarily are we made, I continued to be unkind while in my +heart I was asking pardon of him. I tried to make my reproaches gentler, +to lend my voice a hint of friendly humour, but in spite of me the one +sounded gruffer and the other sourer with everything I said. This was +the worse because of the continued silence of the victim: he did not +once answer, nor by the slightest movement alter his attitude until I +had finished--and more than finished. + +"There--and that's all!" I said desperately, when the things were +strapped and I had slung them to my shoulder. "Let's be off, in heaven's +name!" + +At that he turned quickly toward me; it did not lessen my remorse to see +that he had grown very pale. + +"I wouldn't have frightened her for the world," he said, and his voice +and his whole body shook with a strange violence. "I wouldn't have +frightened her to please the angels in heaven!" + +A blunderer whose incantation had brought the spirit up to face me, I +stared at him helplessly, nor could I find words to answer or control +the passion that my imbecile scolding had evoked. Whatever the barriers +Keredec's training had built for his protection, they were down now. + +"You think I told a lie!" he cried. "You think I lied when I said I +couldn't help speaking to her!" + +"No, no," I said earnestly. "I didn't mean--" + +"Words!" he swept the feeble protest away, drowned in a whirling +vehemence. "And what does it matter? You CAN'T understand. When YOU want +to know what to do, you look back into your life and it tells you; and I +look back--AH!" He cried out, uttering a half-choked, incoherent +syllable. "I look back and it's all--BLIND! All these things you CAN do +and CAN'T do--all these infinite little things! You know, and Keredec +knows, and Glouglou knows, and every mortal soul on earth knows--but _I_ +don't know! Your life has taught you, and you know, but I don't know. I +haven't HAD my life. It's gone! All I have is words that Keredec has +said to me, and it's like a man with no eyes, out in the sunshine +hunting for the light. Do you think words can teach you to resist such +impulses as I had when I spoke to Madame d'Armand? Can life itself teach +you to resist them? Perhaps you never had them?" + +"I don't know," I answered honestly. + +"I would burn my hand from my arm and my arm from my body," he went on, +with the same wild intensity, "rather than trouble her or frighten her, +but I couldn't help speaking to her any more than I can help wanting to +see her again--the feeling that I MUST--whatever you say or do, whatever +Keredec says or does, whatever the whole world may say or do. And I +will! It isn't a thing to choose to do, or not to do. I can't help it +any more than I can help being alive!" + +He paused, wiping from his brow a heavy dew not of the heat, but like +that on the forehead of a man in crucial pain. I made nervous haste to +seize the opportunity, and said gently, almost timidly: + +"But if it should distress the lady?" + +"Yes--then I could keep away. But I must know that." + +"I think you might know it by her running away--and by her look," I said +mildly. "Didn't you?" + +"NO!" And his eyes flashed an added emphasis. + +"Well, well," I said, "let's be on our way, or the professor will be +wondering if he is to dine alone." + +Without looking to see if he followed, I struck into the path toward +home. He did follow, obediently enough, not uttering another word so +long as we were in the woods, though I could hear him breathing sharply +as he strode behind me, and knew that he was struggling to regain +control of himself. I set the pace, making it as fast as I could, and +neither of us spoke again until we had come out of the forest and were +upon the main road near the Baudry cottage. Then he said in a steadier +voice: + +"Why should it distress her?" + +"Well, you see," I began, not slackening the pace "there are +formalities--" + +"Ah, I know," he interrupted, with an impatient laugh. "Keredec once +took me to a marionette show--all the little people strung on wires; +they couldn't move any other way. And so you mustn't talk to a woman +until somebody whose name has been spoken to you speaks yours to her! Do +you call that a rule of nature?" + +"My dear boy," I laughed in some desperation, "we must conform to it, +ordinarily, no matter whose rule it is." + +"Do you think Madame d'Armand cares for little forms like that?" he +asked challengingly. + +"She does," I assured him with perfect confidence. "And, for the +hundredth time, you must have seen how you troubled her." + +"No," he returned, with the same curious obstinacy, "I don't believe it. +There was something, but it wasn't trouble. We looked straight at each +other; I saw her eyes plainly, and it was--" he paused and sighed, a +sudden, brilliant smile upon his lips--"it was very--it was very +strange!" + +There was something so glad and different in his look that--like any +other dried-up old blunderer in my place--I felt an instant tendency to +laugh. It was that heathenish possession, the old insanity of the +risibles, which makes a man think it a humourous thing that his friend +should be discovered in love. + +But before I spoke, before I quite smiled outright, I was given the +grace to see myself in the likeness of a leering stranger trespassing in +some cherished inclosure: a garden where the gentlest guests must always +be intruders, and only the owner should come. The best of us profane it +readily, leaving the coarse prints of our heels upon its paths, mauling +and man-handling the fairy blossoms with what pudgy fingers! Comes the +poet, ruthlessly leaping the wall and trumpeting indecently his view- +halloo of the chase, and, after him, the joker, snickering and hopeful +of a kill among the rose-beds; for this has been their hunting-ground +since the world began. These two have made us miserably ashamed of the +divine infinitive, so that we are afraid to utter the very words "to +love," lest some urchin overhear and pursue us with a sticky forefinger +and stickier taunts. It is little to my credit that I checked the silly +impulse to giggle at the eternal marvel, and went as gently as I could +where I should not have gone at all. + +"But if you were wrong," I said, "if it did distress her, and if it +happened that she has already had too much that was distressing in her +life--" + +"You know something about her!" he exclaimed. "You know--" + +"I do not," I interrupted in turn. "I have only a vague guess; I may be +altogether mistaken." + +"What is it that you guess?" he demanded abruptly. "Who made her +suffer?" + +"I think it was her husband," I said, with a lack of discretion for +which I was instantly sorry, fearing with reason that I had added a +final blunder to the long list of the afternoon. "That is," I added, "if +my guess is right." + +He stopped short in the road, detaining me by the arm, the question +coming like a whip-crack: sharp, loud, violent. + +"Is he alive?" + +"I don't know," I answered, beginning to move forward; "and this is +foolish talk--especially on my part!" + +"But I want to know," he persisted, again detaining me. + +"And I DON'T know!" I returned emphatically. "Probably I am entirely +mistaken in thinking that I know anything of her whatever. I ought not +to have spoken, unless I knew what I was talking about, and I'd rather +not say any more until I do know." + +"Very well," he said quickly. "Will you tell me then?" + +"Yes--if you will let it go at that." + +"Thank you," he said, and with an impulse which was but too plainly one +of gratitude, offered me his hand. I took it, and my soul was disquieted +within me, for it was no purpose of mine to set inquiries on foot in +regard to the affairs of "Madame d'Armand." + +It was early dusk, that hour, a little silvered but still clear, when +the edges of things are beginning to grow indefinite, and usually our +sleepy countryside knew no tranquiller time of day; but to-night, as we +approached the inn, there were strange shapes in the roadway and other +tokens that events were stirring there. + +From the courtyard came the sounds of laughter and chattering voices. +Before the entrance stood a couple of open touring-cars; the chauffeurs +engaged in cooling the rear tires with buckets of water brought by a +personage ordinarily known as Glouglou, whose look and manner, as he +performed this office for the leathern dignitaries, so awed me that I +wondered I had ever dared address him with any presumption of intimacy. +The cars were great and opulent, of impressive wheel-base, and fore-and- +aft they were laden intricately with baggage: concave trunks fitting +behind the tonneaus, thin trunks fastened upon the footboards, green, +circular trunks adjusted to the spare tires, all deeply coated with +dust. Here were fineries from Paris, doubtless on their way to flutter +over the gay sands of Trouville, and now wandering but temporarily from +the road; for such splendours were never designed to dazzle us of Madame +Brossard's. + +We were crossing before the machines when one of the drivers saw fit to +crank his engine (if that is the knowing phrase) and the thing shook out +the usual vibrating uproar. It had a devastating effect upon my +companion. He uttered a wild exclamation and sprang sideways into me, +almost upsetting us both. + +"What on earth is the matter?" I asked. "Did you think the car was +starting?" + +He turned toward me a face upon which was imprinted the sheer, blank +terror of a child. It passed in an instant however, and he laughed. + +"I really didn't know. Everything has been so quiet always, out here in +the country--and that horrible racket coming so suddenly--" + +Laughing with him, I took his arm and we turned to enter the archway. As +we did so we almost ran into a tall man who was coming out, evidently +intending to speak to one of the drivers. + +The stranger stepped back with a word of apology, and I took note of him +for a fellow-countryman, and a worldly buck of fashion indeed, almost as +cap-a-pie the automobilist as my mysterious spiller of cider had been +the pedestrian. But this was no game-chicken; on the contrary (so far as +a glance in the dusk of the archway revealed him), much the picture for +framing in a club window of a Sunday morning; a seasoned, hard-surfaced, +knowing creature for whom many a head waiter must have swept previous +claimants from desired tables. He looked forty years so cannily that I +guessed him to be about fifty. + +We were passing him when he uttered an ejaculation of surprise and +stepped forward again, holding out his hand to my companion, and +exclaiming: + +"Where did YOU come from? I'd hardly have known you." + +Oliver seemed unconscious of the proffered hand; he stiffened visibly +and said: + +"I think there must be some mistake." + +"So there is," said the other promptly. "I have been misled by a +resemblance. I beg your pardon." + +He lifted his cap slightly, going on, and we entered the courtyard to +find a cheerful party of nine or ten men and women seated about a couple +of tables. Like the person we had just encountered, they all exhibited a +picturesque elaboration of the costume permitted by their mode of +travel; making effective groupings in their ample draperies of buff and +green and white, with glimpses of a flushed and pretty face or two among +the loosened veilings. Upon the tables were pots of tea, plates of +sandwiches, Madame Brossard's three best silver dishes heaped with +fruit, and some bottles of dry champagne from the cellars of Rheims. The +partakers were making very merry, having with them (as is inevitable in +all such parties, it seems) a fat young man inclined to humour, who was +now upon his feet for the proposal of some prankish toast. He +interrupted himself long enough to glance our way as we crossed the +garden; and it struck me that several pairs of brighter eyes followed my +young companion with interest. He was well worth it, perhaps all the +more because he was so genuinely unconscious of it; and he ran up the +gallery steps and disappeared into his own rooms without sending even a +glance from the corner of his eye in return. + +I went almost as quickly to my pavilion, and, without lighting my lamp, +set about my preparations for dinner. + +The party outside, breaking up presently, could be heard moving toward +the archway with increased noise and laughter, inspired by some +exquisite antic on the part of the fat young man, when a girl's voice (a +very attractive voice) called, "Oh, Cressie, aren't you coming?" and a +man's replied, from near my veranda: "Only stopping to light a cigar." + +A flutter of skirts and a patter of feet betokened that the girl came +running back to join the smoker. "Cressie," I heard her say in an eager, +lowered tone, "who WAS he?" + +"Who was who?" + +"That DEVASTATING creature in white flannels!" + +The man chuckled. "Matinee sort of devastator--what? Monte Cristo hair, +noble profile--" + +"You'd better tell me," she interrupted earnestly--"if you don't want me +to ask the WAITER." + +"But I don't know him." + +"I saw you speak to him." + +"I thought it was a man I met three years ago out in San Francisco, but +I was mistaken. There was a slight resemblance. This fellow might have +been a rather decent younger brother of the man I knew. HE was the--" + +My strong impression was that if the speaker had not been interrupted at +this point he would have said something very unfavourable to the +character of the man he had met in San Francisco; but there came a +series of blasts from the automobile horns and loud calls from others of +the party, who were evidently waiting for these two. + +"Coming!" shouted the man. + +"Wait!" said his companion hurriedly, "Who was the other man, the older +one with the painting things and SUCH a coat?" + +"Never saw him before in my life." + +I caught a last word from the girl as the pair moved away. + +"I'll come back here with a BAND to-morrow night, and serenade the +beautiful one. + +"Perhaps he'd drop me his card out of the window!" + +The horns sounded again; there was a final chorus of laughter, suddenly +ceasing to be heard as the cars swept away, and Les Trois Pigeons was +left to its accustomed quiet. + +"Monsieur is served," said Amedee, looking in at my door, five minutes +later. + +"You have passed a great hour just now, Amedee." + +"It was like the old days, truly!" + +"They are off for Trouville, I suppose." + +"No, monsieur, they are on their way to visit the chateau, and stopped +here only because the run from Paris had made the tires too hot." + +"To visit Quesnay, you mean?" + +"Truly. But monsieur need give himself no uneasiness; I did not mention +to any one that monsieur is here. His name was not spoken. Mademoiselle +Ward returned to the chateau to-day," he added. "She has been in +England." + +"Quesnay will be gay," I said, coming out to the table. Oliver Saffren +was helping the professor down the steps, and Keredec, bent with +suffering, but indomitable, gave me a hearty greeting, and began a +ruthless dissection of Plato with the soup. Oliver, usually, very quiet, +as I have said, seemed a little restless under the discourse to-night. +However, he did not interrupt, sitting patiently until bedtime, though +obviously not listening. When he bade me good night he gave me a look so +clearly in reference to a secret understanding between us that, meaning +to keep only the letter of my promise to him, I felt about as +comfortable as if I had meanly tricked a child. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +I had finished dressing, next morning, and was strapping my things +together for the day's campaign, when I heard a shuffling step upon the +porch, and the door opened gently, without any previous ceremony of +knocking. To my angle of vision what at first appeared to have opened it +was a tray of coffee, rolls, eggs, and a packet of sandwiches, but, +after hesitating somewhat, this apparition advanced farther into the +room, disclosing a pair of supporting hands, followed in due time by the +whole person of a nervously smiling and visibly apprehensive Amedee. He +closed the door behind him by the simple action of backing against it, +took the cloth from his arm, and with a single gesture spread it neatly +upon a small table, then, turning to me, laid the forefinger of his +right hand warningly upon his lips and bowed me a deferential invitation +to occupy the chair beside the table. + +"Well," I said, glaring at him, "what ails you?" + +"I thought monsieur might prefer his breakfast indoors, this morning," +he returned in a low voice. + +"Why should I?" + +The miserable old man said something I did not understand--an incoherent +syllable or two--suddenly covered his mouth with both hands, and turned +away. I heard a catch in his throat; suffocated sounds issued from his +bosom; however, it was nothing more than a momentary seizure, and, +recovering command of himself by a powerful effort, he faced me with +hypocritical servility. + +"Why do you laugh?" I asked indignantly. + +"But I did not laugh," he replied in a husky whisper. "Not at all." + +"You did," I asserted, raising my voice. "It almost killed you!" + +"Monsieur," he begged hoarsely, "HUSH!" + +"What is the matter?" I demanded loudly. "What do you mean by these +abominable croakings? Speak out!" + +"Monsieur--" he gesticulated in a panic, toward the courtyard. +"Mademoiselle Ward is out there." + +"WHAT!" But I did not shout the word. + +"There is always a little window in the rear wall," he breathed in my +ear as I dropped into the chair by the table. "She would not see you if--" + +I interrupted with all the French rough-and-ready expressions of dislike +at my command, daring to hope that they might give him some shadowy, +far-away idea of what I thought of both himself and his suggestions, +and, notwithstanding the difficulty of expressing strong feeling in +whispers, it seemed to me that, in a measure, I succeeded. "I am not in +the habit of crawling out of ventilators," I added, subduing a tendency +to vehemence. "And probably Mademoiselle Ward has only come to talk with +Madame Brossard." + +"I fear some of those people may have told her you were here," he +ventured insinuatingly. + +"What people?" I asked, drinking my coffee calmly, yet, it must be +confessed, without quite the deliberation I could have wished. + +"Those who stopped yesterday evening on the way to the chateau. They +might have recognised--" + +"Impossible. I knew none of them." + +"But Mademoiselle Ward knows that you are here. Without doubt." + +"Why do you say so?" + +"Because she has inquired for you." + +"So!" I rose at once and went toward the door. "Why didn't you tell me +at once?" + +"But surely," he remonstrated, ignoring my question, "monsieur will make +some change of attire?" + +"Change of attire?" I echoed. + +"Eh, the poor old coat all hunched at the shoulders and spotted with +paint!" + +"Why shouldn't it be?" I hissed, thoroughly irritated. "Do you take me +for a racing marquis?" + +"But monsieur has a coat much more as a coat ought to be. And Jean +Ferret says--" + +"Ha, now we're getting at it!" said I. "What does Jean Ferret say?" + +"Perhaps it would be better if I did not repeat--" + +"Out with it! What does Jean Ferret say?" + +"Well, then, Mademoiselle Ward's maid from Paris has told Jean Ferret +that monsieur and Mademoiselle Ward have corresponded for years, and +that--and that--" + +"Go on," I bade him ominously. + +"That monsieur has sent Mademoiselle Ward many expensive jewels, and--" + +"Aha!" said I, at which he paused abruptly, and stood staring at me. The +idea of explaining Miss Elizabeth's collection to him, of getting +anything whatever through that complacent head of his, was so hopeless +that I did not even consider it. There was only one thing to do, and +perhaps I should have done it--I do not know, for he saw the menace +coiling in my eye, and hurriedly retreated. + +"Monsieur!" he gasped, backing away from me, and as his hand, fumbling +behind him, found the latch of the door, he opened it, and scrambled out +by a sort of spiral movement round the casing. When I followed, a moment +later--with my traps on my shoulder and the packet of sandwiches in my +pocket--he was out of sight. + +Miss Elizabeth sat beneath the arbour at the other end of the courtyard, +and beside her stood the trim and glossy bay saddle-horse that she had +ridden from Quesnay, his head outstretched above his mistress to paddle +at the vine leaves with a tremulous upper lip. She checked his desire +with a slight movement of her hand upon the bridle-rein; and he arched +his neck prettily, pawing the gravel with a neat forefoot. Miss +Elizabeth is one of the few large women I have known to whom a riding- +habit is entirely becoming, and this group of two--a handsome woman and +her handsome horse--has had a charm for all men ever since horses were +tamed and women began to be beautiful. I thought of my work, of the +canvases I meant to cover, but I felt the charm--and I felt it +stirringly. It was a fine, fresh morning, and the sun just risen. + +An expression in the lady's attitude, and air which I instinctively +construed as histrionic, seemed intended to convey that she had been +kept waiting, yet had waited without reproach; and although she must +have heard me coming, she did not look toward me until I was quite near +and spoke her name. At that she sprang up quickly enough, and stretched +out her hand to me. + +"Run to earth!" she cried, advancing a step to meet me. + +"A pretty poor trophy of the chase," said I, "but proud that you are its +killer." + +To my surprise and mystification, her cheeks and brow flushed rosily; +she was obviously conscious of it, and laughed. + +"Don't be embarrassed," she said. + +"I!" + +"Yes, you, poor man! I suppose I couldn't have more thoroughly +compromised you. Madame Brossard will never believe in your +respectability again." + +"Oh, yes, she will," said I. + +"What? A lodger who has ladies calling upon him at five o'clock in the +morning? But your bundle's on your shoulder," she rattled on, laughing, +"though there's many could be bolder, and perhaps you'll let me walk a +bit of the way with you, if you're for the road." + +"Perhaps I will," said I. She caught up her riding-skirt, fastening it +by a clasp at her side, and we passed out through the archway and went +slowly along the road bordering the forest, her horse following +obediently at half-rein's length. + +"When did you hear that I was at Madame Brossard's?" I asked. + +"Ten minutes after I returned to Quesnay, late yesterday afternoon." + +"Who told you?" + +"Louise." + +I repeated the name questioningly. "You mean Mrs. Larrabee Harman?" + +"Louise Harman," she corrected. "Didn't you know she was staying at +Quesnay?" + +"I guessed it, though Amedee got the name confused." + +"Yes, she's been kind enough to look after the place for us while we +were away. George won't be back for another ten days, and I've been +overseeing an exhibition for him in London. Afterward I did a round of +visits--tiresome enough, but among people it's well to keep in touch +with on George's account." + +"I see," I said, with a grimness which probably escaped her. "But how +did Mrs. Harman know that I was at Les Trois Pigeons?" + +"She met you once in the forest--" + +"Twice," I interrupted. + +"She mentioned only once. Of course she'd often heard both George and me +speak of you." + +"But how did she know it was I and where I was staying?" + +"Oh, that?" Her smile changed to a laugh. "Your maitre d'hotel told +Ferret, a gardener at Quesnay, that you were at the inn." + +"He did!" + +"Oh, but you mustn't be angry with him; he made it quite all right." + +"How did he do that?" I asked, trying to speak calmly, though there was +that in my mind which might have blanched the parchment cheek of a grand +inquisitor. + +"He told Ferret that you were very anxious not to have it known--" + +"You call that making it all right?" + +"For himself, I mean. He asked Ferret not to mention who it was that +told him." + +"The rascal!" I cried. "The treacherous, brazen--" + +"Unfortunate man," said Miss Elizabeth, "don't you see how clear you're +making it that you really meant to hide from us?" + +There seemed to be something in that, and my tirade broke up in +confusion. "Oh, no," I said lamely, "I hoped--I hoped--" + +"Be careful!" + +"No; I hoped to work down here," I blurted. "And I thought if I saw too +much of you--I might not." + +She looked at me with widening eyes. "And I can take my choice," she +cried, "of all the different things you may mean by that! It's either +the most outrageous speech I ever heard--or the most flattering." + +"But I meant simply--" + +"No." She lifted her hand and stopped me. "I'd rather believe that I +have at least the choice--and let it go at that." And as I began to +laugh, she turned to me with a gravity apparently so genuine that for +the moment I was fatuous enough to believe that she had said it +seriously. Ensued a pause of some duration, which, for my part, I found +disturbing. She broke it with a change of subject. + +"You think Louise very lovely to look at, don't you?" + +"Exquisite," I answered. + +"Every one does." + +"I suppose she told you--" and now I felt myself growing red--"that I +behaved like a drunken acrobat when she came upon me in the path." + +"No. Did you?" cried Miss Elizabeth, with a ready credulity which I +thought by no means pretty; indeed, she seemed amused and, to my +surprise (for she is not an unkind woman), rather heartlessly pleased. +"Louise only said she knew it must be you, and that she wished she could +have had a better look at what you were painting." + +"Heaven bless her!" I exclaimed. "Her reticence was angelic." + +"Yes, she has reticence," said my companion, with enough of the same +quality to make me look at her quickly. A thin line had been drawn +across her forehead. + +"You mean she's still reticent with George?" I ventured. + +"Yes," she answered sadly. "Poor George always hopes, of course, in the +silent way of his kind when they suffer from such unfortunate passions-- +and he waits." + +"I suppose that former husband of hers recovered?" + +"I believe he's still alive somewhere. Locked up, I hope!" she finished +crisply. + +"She retained his name," I observed. + +"Harman? Yes, she retained it," said my companion rather shortly. + +"At all events, she's rid of him, isn't she?" + +"Oh, she's RID of him!" Her tone implied an enigmatic reservation of +some kind. + +"It's hard," I reflected aloud, "hard to understand her making that +mistake, young as she was. Even in the glimpses of her I've had, it was +easy to see something of what she's like: a fine, rare, high type--" + +"But you didn't know HIM, did you?" Miss Elizabeth asked with some +dryness. + +"No," I answered. "I saw him twice; once at the time of his accident-- +that was only a nightmare, his face covered with--" I shivered. "But I +had caught a glimpse of him on the boulevard, and of all the dreadful--" + +"Oh, but he wasn't always dreadful," she interposed quickly. "He was a +fascinating sort of person, quite charming and good-looking, when she +ran away with him, though he was horribly dissipated even then. He +always had been THAT. Of course she thought she'd be able to straighten +him out--poor girl! She tried, for three years--three years it hurts one +to think of! You see it must have been something very like a 'grand +passion' to hold her through a pain three years long." + +"Or tremendous pride," said I. "Women make an odd world of it for the +rest of us. There was good old George, as true and straight a man as +ever lived--" + +"And she took the other! Yes." George's sister laughed sorrowfully. + +"But George and she have both survived the mistake," I went on with +confidence. "Her tragedy must have taught her some important +differences. Haven't you a notion she'll be tremendously glad to see him +when he comes back from America?" + +"Ah, I do hope so!" she cried. "You see, I'm fearing that he hopes so +too--to the degree of counting on it." + +"You don't count on it yourself?" + +She shook her head. "With any other woman I should." + +"Why not with Mrs. Harman?" + +"Cousin Louise has her ways," said Miss Elizabeth slowly, and, whether +she could not further explain her doubts, or whether she would not, that +was all I got out of her on the subject at the time. I asked one or two +more questions, but my companion merely shook her head again, alluding +vaguely to her cousin's "ways." Then she brightened suddenly, and +inquired when I would have my things sent up to the chateau from the +inn. + +At the risk of a misunderstanding which I felt I could ill afford, I +resisted her kind hospitality, and the outcome of it was that there +should be a kind of armistice, to begin with my dining at the chateau +that evening. Thereupon she mounted to the saddle, a bit of gymnastics +for which she declined my assistance, and looked down upon me from a +great height. + +"Did anybody ever tell you," was her surprising inquiry, "that you are +the queerest man of these times?" + +"No," I answered. "Don't you think you're a queerer woman?" + +"FOOTLE!" she cried scornfully. "Be off to your woods and your +woodscaping!" + +The bay horse departed at a smart gait, not, I was glad to see, a +parkish trot--Miss Elizabeth wisely set limits to her sacrifices to +Mode--and she was far down the road before I had passed the outer fringe +of trees. + +My work was accomplished after a fashion more or less desultory that +day; I had many absent moments, was restless, and walked more than I +painted. Oliver Saffron did not join me in the late afternoon; nor did +the echo of distant yodelling bespeak any effort on his part to find me. +So I gave him up, and returned to the inn earlier than usual. + +While dressing I sent word to Professor Keredec that I should not be +able to join him at dinner that evening; and it is to be recorded that +Glouglou carried the message for me. Amedee did not appear, from which +it may be inferred that our maitre d'hotel was subject to lucid +intervals. Certainly his present shyness indicated an intelligence of no +low order. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +The dining-room at Quesnay is a pretty work of the second of those three +Louises who made so much furniture. It was never a proper setting for a +rusty, out-of-doors painter-man, nor has such a fellow ever found +himself complacently at ease there since the day its first banquet was +spread for a score or so of fine-feathered epigram jinglers, fiddling +Versailles gossip out of a rouge-and-lace Quesnay marquise newly sent +into half-earnest banishment for too much king-hunting. For my part, +however, I should have preferred a chance at making a place for myself +among the wigs and brocades to the Crusoe's Isle of my chair at Miss +Elizabeth's table. + +I learned at an early age to look my vanities in the face; I outfaced +them and they quailed, but persisted, surviving for my discomfort to +this day. Here is the confession: It was not until my arrival at the +chateau that I realised what temerity it involved to dine there in +evening clothes purchased, some four or five or six years previously, in +the economical neighbourhood of the Boulevard St. Michel. Yet the things +fitted me well enough; were clean and not shiny, having been worn no +more than a dozen times, I think; though they might have been better +pressed. + +Looking over the men of the Quesnay party--or perhaps I should signify a +reversal of that and say a glance of theirs at me--revealed the +importance of a particular length of coat-tail, of a certain rich effect +obtained by widely separating the lower points of the waistcoat, of the +display of some imagination in the buttons upon the same garment, of a +doubled-back arrangement of cuffs, and of a specific design and +dimension of tie. Marked uniformity in these matters denoted their +necessity; and clothes differing from the essential so vitally as did +mine must have seemed immodest, little better than no clothes at all. I +doubt if I could have argued in extenuation my lack of advantages for +study, such an excuse being itself the damning circumstance. Of course +eccentricity is permitted, but (as in the Arts) only to the established. +And I recall a painful change of colour which befell the countenance of +a shining young man I met at Ward's house in Paris: he had used his +handkerchief and was absently putting it in his pocket when he +providentially noticed what he was doing and restored it to his sleeve. + +Miss Elizabeth had the courage to take me under her wing, placing me +upon her left at dinner; but sprightlier calls than mine demanded and +occupied her attention. At my other side sat a magnificently upholstered +lady, who offered a fine shoulder and the rear wall of a collar of +pearls for my observation throughout the evening, as she leaned forward +talking eagerly with a male personage across the table. This was a +prince, ending in "ski": he permitted himself the slight vagary of +wearing a gold bracelet, and perhaps this flavour of romance drew the +lady. Had my good fortune ever granted a second meeting, I should not +have known her. + +Fragments reaching me in my seclusion indicated that the various +conversations up and down the long table were animated; and at times +some topic proved of such high interest as to engage the comment of the +whole company. This was the case when the age of one of the English +king's grandchildren came in question, but a subject which called for +even longer (if less spirited) discourse concerned the shameful lack of +standard on the part of citizens of the United States, or, as it was +put, with no little exasperation, "What is the trouble with America?" +Hereupon brightly gleamed the fat young man whom I had marked for a wit +at Les Trois Pigeons; he pictured with inimitable mimicry a western +senator lately in France. This outcast, it appeared, had worn a slouch +hat at a garden party and had otherwise betrayed his country to the +ridicule of the intelligent. "But really," said the fat young man, +turning plaintiff in conclusion, "imagine what such things make the +English and the French think of US!" And it finally went by consent that +the trouble with America was the vulgarity of our tourists. + +"A dreadful lot!" Miss Elizabeth cheerfully summed up for them all. "The +miseries I undergo with that class of 'prominent Amurricans' who bring +letters to my brother! I remember one awful creature who said, when I +came into the room, 'Well, ma'am, I guess you're the lady of the house, +aren't you?'" + +Miss Elizabeth sparkled through the chorus of laughter, but I remembered +the "awful creature," a genial and wise old man of affairs, whose +daughter's portrait George painted. Miss Elizabeth had missed his point: +the canvasser's phrase had been intended with humour, and even had it +lacked that, it was not without a pretty quaintness. So I thought, being +"left to my own reflections," which may have partaken of my own special +kind of snobbery; at least I regretted the Elizabeth of the morning +garden and the early walk along the fringe of the woods. For she at my +side to-night was another lady. + +The banquet was drawing to a close when she leaned toward me and spoke +in an undertone. As this was the first sign, in so protracted a period, +that I might ever again establish relations with the world of men, it +came upon me like a Friday's footprint, and in the moment of shock I did +not catch what she said. + +"Anne Elliott, yonder, is asking you a question," she repeated, nodding +at a very pretty gal down and across the table from me. Miss Anne +Elliott's attractive voice had previously enabled me to recognise her as +the young woman who had threatened to serenade Les Trois Pigeons. + +"I beg your pardon," I said, addressing her, and at the sound my +obscurity was illuminated, about half of the company turning to look at +me with wide-eyed surprise. (I spoke in an ordinary tone, it may need to +be explained, and there is nothing remarkable about my voice). + +"I hear you're at Les Trois Pigeons," said Miss Elliott. + +"Yes?" + +"WOULD you mind telling us something of the MYSTERIOUS Narcissus?" + +"If you'll be more definite," I returned, in the tone of a question. + +"There couldn't be more than one like THAT," said Miss Elliott, "at +least, not in one neighbourhood, could there? I mean a RECKLESSLY +charming vision with a WHITE tie and WHITE hair and WHITE flannels." + +"Oh," said I, "HE'S not mysterious." + +"But he IS," she returned; "I insist on his being MYSTERIOUS! Rarely, +grandly, STRANGELY mysterious! You WILL let me think so?" This young +lady had a whimsical manner of emphasising words unexpectedly, with a +breathless intensity that approached violence, a habit dangerously +contagious among nervous persons, so that I answered slowly, out of a +fear that I might echo it. + +"It would need a great deal of imagination. He's a young American, very +attractive, very simple--" + +"But he's MAD!" she interrupted. + +"Oh, no!" I said hastily. + +"But he IS! A person told me so in a garden this VERY afternoon," she +went on eagerly; "a person with a rake and EVER so many moles on his +chin. This person told me all about him. His name is Oliver Saffren, and +he's in the charge of a VERY large doctor and quite, QUITE mad!" + +"Jean Ferret, the gardener." I said deliberately, and with venom, "is +fast acquiring notoriety in these parts as an idiot of purest ray, and +he had his information from another whose continuance unhanged is every +hour more miraculous." + +"How RUTHLESS of you," cried Miss Elliott, with exaggerated reproach, +"when I have had such a thrilling happiness all day in believing that +RIOTOUSLY beautiful creature mad! You are wholly positive he isn't?" + +Our dialogue was now all that delayed a general departure from the +table. This, combined with the naive surprise I have mentioned, served +to make us temporarily the centre of attention, and, among the faces +turned toward me, my glance fell unexpectedly upon one I had not seen +since entering the dining-room. Mrs. Harman had been placed at some +distance from me and on the same side of the table, but now she leaned +far back in her chair to look at me, so that I saw her behind the +shoulders of the people between us. She was watching me with an +expression unmistakably of repressed anxiety and excitement, and as our +eyes met, hers shone with a certain agitation, as of some odd +consciousness shared with me. It was so strangely, suddenly a reminder +of the look of secret understanding given me with good night, twenty- +four hours earlier, by the man whose sanity was Miss Elliott's topic, +that, puzzled and almost disconcerted for the moment, I did not at once +reply to the lively young lady's question. + +"You're hesitating!" she cried, clasping her hands. "I believe there's a +DARLING little chance of it, after all! And if it weren't so, why would +he need to be watched over, day AND night, by an ENORMOUS doctor?" + +"This IS romance!" I retorted. "The doctor is Professor Keredec, +illustriously known in this country, but not as a physician, and they +are following some form of scientific research together, I believe. But, +assuming to speak as Mr. Saffren's friend," I added, rising with the +others upon Miss Ward's example, "I'm sure if he could come to know of +your interest, he would much rather play Hamlet for you than let you +find him disappointing." + +"If he could come to know of my interest!" she echoed, glancing down at +herself with mock demureness. "Don't you think he could come to know +something more of me than that?" + +The windows had been thrown open, allowing passage to a veranda. Miss +Elizabeth led the way outdoors with the prince, the rest of us following +at hazard, and in the mild confusion of this withdrawal I caught a final +glimpse of Mrs. Harman, which revealed that she was still looking at me +with the same tensity; but with the movement of intervening groups I +lost her. Miss Elliott pointedly waited for me until I came round the +table, attached me definitely by taking my arm, accompanying her action +with a dazzling smile. "Oh, DO you think you can manage it?" she +whispered rapturously, to which I replied--as vaguely as I could--that +the demands of scientific research upon the time of its followers were +apt to be exorbitant. + +Tables and coffee were waiting on the broad terrace below, with a big +moon rising in the sky. I descended the steps in charge of this pretty +cavalier, allowed her to seat me at the most remote of the tables, and +accepted without unwillingness other gallantries of hers in the matter +of coffee and cigarettes. "And now," she said, "now that I've done so +much for your DEAREST hopes and comfort, look up at the milky moon, and +tell me ALL!" + +"If you can bear it?" + +She leaned an elbow on the marble railing that protected the terrace, +and, shielding her eyes from the moonlight with her hand, affected to +gaze at me dramatically. "Have no distrust," she bade me. "Who and WHAT +is the glorious stranger?" + +Resisting an impulse to chime in with her humour, I gave her so dry and +commonplace an account of my young friend at the inn that I presently +found myself abandoned to solitude again. + +"I don't know where to go," she complained as she rose. "These other +people are MOST painful to a girl of my intelligence, but I cannot +linger by your side; untruth long ago lost its interest for me, and I +prefer to believe Mr. Jean Ferret--if that is the gentleman's name. I'd +join Miss Ward and Cressie Ingle yonder, but Cressie WOULD be indignant! +I shall soothe my hurt with SWEETEST airs. Adieu." + +With that she made me a solemn courtesy and departed, a pretty little +figure, not little in attractiveness, the strong moonlight, tinged with +blue, shimmering over her blond hair and splashing brightly among the +ripples of her silks and laces. She swept across the terrace languidly, +offering an effect of comedy not unfairylike, and, ascending the steps +of the veranda, disappeared into the orange candle-light of a salon. A +moment later some chords were sounded firmly upon a piano in that room, +and a bitter song swam out to me over the laughter and talk of the +people at the other tables. It was to be observed that Miss Anne Elliott +sang very well, though I thought she over-emphasised one line of the +stanza: + +"This world is a world of lies!" + +Perhaps she had poisoned another little arrow for me, too. Impelled by +the fine night, the groups upon the terrace were tending toward a wider +dispersal, drifting over the sloping lawns by threes and couples, and I +was able to identify two figures threading the paths of the garden, +together, some distance below. Judging by the pace they kept, I should +have concluded that Miss Ward and Mr. Cresson Ingle sought the healthful +effects of exercise. However, I could see no good reason for wishing +their conversation less obviously absorbing, though Miss Elliott's +insinuation that Mr. Ingle might deplore intrusion upon the interview +had struck me as too definite to be altogether pleasing. Still, such +matters could not discontent me with my solitude. Eastward, over the +moonlit roof of the forest, I could see the quiet ocean, its unending +lines of foam moving slowly to the long beaches, too far away to be +heard. The reproachful voice of the singer came no more from the house, +but the piano ran on into "La Vie de Boheme," and out of that into +something else, I did not know what, but it seemed to be music; at least +it was musical enough to bring before me some memory of the faces of +pretty girls I had danced with long ago in my dancing days, so that, +what with the music, and the distant sea, and the soft air, so +sparklingly full of moonshine, and the little dancing memories, I was +floated off into a reverie that was like a prelude for the person who +broke it. She came so quietly that I did not hear her until she was +almost beside me and spoke to me. It was the second time that had +happened. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +"Mrs. Harman," I said, as she took the chair vacated by the elfin young +lady, "you see I can manage it! But perhaps I control myself better when +there's no camp-stool to inspire me. You remember my woodland didoes--I +fear?" + +She smiled in a pleasant, comprehending way, but neither directly +replied nor made any return speech whatever; instead, she let her +forearms rest on the broad railing of the marble balustrade, and, +leaning forward, gazed out over the shining and mysterious slopes below. +Somehow it seemed to me that her not answering, and her quiet action, as +well as the thoughtful attitude in which it culminated, would have been +thought "very like her" by any one who knew her well. "Cousin Louise has +her ways," Miss Elizabeth had told me; this was probably one of them, +and I found it singularly attractive. For that matter, from the day of +my first sight of her in the woods I had needed no prophet to tell me I +should like Mrs. Harman's ways. + +"After the quiet you have had here, all this must seem," I said, looking +down upon the strollers, "a usurpation." + +"Oh, they!" She disposed of Quesnay's guests with a slight movement of +her left hand. "You're an old friend of my cousins--of both of them; but +even without that, I know you understand. Elizabeth does it all for her +brother, of course." + +"But she likes it," I said. + +"And Mr. Ward likes it, too," she added slowly. "You'll see, when he +comes home." + +Night's effect upon me being always to make me venturesome, I took a +chance, and ventured perhaps too far. "I hope we'll see many happy +things when he comes home." + +"It's her doing things of this sort," she said, giving no sign of having +heard my remark, "that has helped so much to make him the success that +he is." + +"It's what has been death to his art!" I exclaimed, too quickly--and +would have been glad to recall the speech. + +She met it with a murmur of low laughter that sounded pitying. "Wasn't +it always a dubious relation--between him and art?" And without awaiting +an answer, she went on, "So it's all the better that he can have his +success!" + +To this I had nothing whatever to say. So far as I remembered, I had +never before heard a woman put so much comprehension of a large subject +into so few words, but in my capacity as George's friend, hopeful for +his happiness, it made me a little uneasy. During the ensuing pause this +feeling, at first uppermost, gave way to another not at all in sequence, +but irresponsible and intuitive, that she had something in particular to +say to me, had joined me for that purpose, and was awaiting the +opportunity. As I have made open confession, my curiosity never needed +the spur; and there is no denying that this impression set it off on the +gallop; but evidently the moment had not come for her to speak. She +seemed content to gaze out over the valley in silence. + +"Mr. Cresson Ingle," I hazarded; "is he an old, new friend of your +cousins? I think he was not above the horizon when I went to Capri, two +years ago?" + +"He wants Elizabeth," she returned, adding quietly, "as you've seen." +And when I had verified this assumption with a monosyllable, she +continued, "He's an 'available,' but I should hate to have it happen. +He's hard." + +"He doesn't seem very hard toward her," I murmured, looking down into +the garden where Mr. Ingle just then happened to be adjusting a scarf +about his hostess's shoulders. + +"He's led a detestable life," said Mrs. Harman, "among detestable +people!" + +She spoke with sudden, remarkable vigour, and as if she knew. The full- +throated emphasis she put upon "detestable" gave the word the sting of a +flagellation; it rang with a rightful indignation that brought vividly +to my mind the thought of those three years in Mrs. Harman's life which +Elizabeth said "hurt one to think of." For this was the lady who had +rejected good George Ward to run away with a man much deeper in all that +was detestable than Mr. Cresson Ingle could ever be! + +"He seems to me much of a type with these others," I said. + +"Oh, they keep their surfaces about the same." + +"It made me wish _I_ had a little more surface to-night," I laughed. +"I'd have fitted better. Miss Ward is different at different times. When +we are alone together she always has the air of excusing, or at least +explaining, these people to me, but this evening I've had the +disquieting thought that perhaps she also explained me to them." + +"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Harman, turning to me quickly. "Didn't you see? She +was making up to Mr. Ingle for this morning. It came out that she'd +ridden over at daylight to see you; Anne Elliott discovered it in some +way and told him." + +This presented an aspect of things so overwhelmingly novel that out of a +confusion of ideas I was able to fasten on only one with which to +continue the conversation, and I said irrelevantly that Miss Elliott was +a remarkable young woman. At this my companion, who had renewed her +observation of the valley, gave me a full, clear look of earnest +scrutiny, which set me on the alert, for I thought that now what she +desired to say was coming. But I was disappointed, for she spoke +lightly, with a ripple of amusement. + +"I suppose she finished her investigations? You told her all you could?" + +"Almost." + +"I suppose you wouldn't trust ME with the reservation?" she asked, +smiling. + +"I would trust you with anything," I answered seriously. + +"You didn't gratify that child?" she said, half laughing. Then, to my +surprise, her tone changed suddenly, and she began again in a hurried +low voice: "You didn't tell her--" and stopped there, breathless and +troubled, letting me see that I had been right after all: this was what +she wanted to talk about. + +"I didn't tell her that young Saffren is mad, no; if that is what you +mean." + +"I'm glad you didn't," she said slowly, sinking back in her chair so +that her face was in the shadow of the awning which sheltered the little +table between us. + +"In the first place, I wouldn't have told her even if it were true," I +returned, "and in the second, it isn't true--though YOU have some reason +to think it is," I added. + +"_I_?" she said. "Why?" + +"His speaking to you as he did; a thing on the face of it inexcusable--" + +"Why did he call me 'Madame d'Armand'?" she interposed. + +I explained something of the mental processes of Amedee, and she +listened till I had finished; then bade me continue. + +"That's all," I said blankly, but, with a second thought, caught her +meaning. "Oh, about young Saffren, you mean?" + +"Yes." + +"I know him pretty well," I said, "without really knowing anything about +him; but what is stranger, I believe he doesn't really know a great deal +about himself. Of course I have a theory about him, though it's vague. +My idea is that probably through some great illness he lost--not his +faculty of memory, but his memories, or, at least, most of them. In +regard to what he does remember, Professor Keredec has anxiously +impressed upon him some very poignant necessity for reticence. What the +necessity may be, or the nature of the professor's anxieties, I do not +know, but I think Keredec's reasons must be good ones. That's all, +except that there's something about the young man that draws one to him: +I couldn't tell you how much I like him, nor how sorry I am that he +offended you." + +"He didn't offend me," she murmured--almost whispered. + +"He didn't mean to," I said warmly. "You understood that?" + +"Yes, I understood." + +"I am glad. I'd been waiting the chance to try to explain--to ask you to +pardon him--" + +"But there wasn't any need." + +"You mean because you understood--" + +"No," she interrupted gently, "not only that. I mean because he has done +it himself." + +"Asked your pardon?" I said, in complete surprise. + +"Yes." + +"He's written you?" I cried. + +"No. I saw him to-day," she answered. "This afternoon when I went for my +walk, he was waiting where the paths intersect--" + +Some hasty ejaculation, I do not know what, came from me, but she lifted +her hand. + +"Wait," she said quietly. "As soon as he saw me he came straight toward +me--" + +"Oh, but this won't do at all," I broke out. "It's too bad--" + +"Wait." She leaned forward slightly, lifting her hand again. "He called +me 'Madame d'Armand,' and said he must know if he had offended me." + +"You told him--" + +"I told him 'No!'" And it seemed to me that her voice, which up to this +point had been low but very steady, shook upon the monosyllable. "He +walked with me a little way--perhaps It was longer--" + +"Trust me that it sha'n't happen again!" I exclaimed. "I'll see that +Keredec knows of this at once. He will--" + +"No, no," she interrupted quickly, "that is just what I want you not to +do. Will you promise me?" + +"I'll promise anything you ask me. But didn't he frighten you? Didn't he +talk wildly? Didn't he--" + +"He didn't frighten me--not as you mean. He was very quiet and--" She +broke off unexpectedly, with a little pitying cry, and turned to me, +lifting both hands appealingly--"And oh, doesn't he make one SORRY for +him!" + +That was just it. She had gone straight to the heart of his mystery: his +strangeness was the strange PATHOS that invested him; the "singularity" +of "that other monsieur" was solved for me at last. + +When she had spoken she rose, advanced a step, and stood looking out +over the valley again, her skirts pressing the balustrade. One of the +moments in my life when I have wished to be a figure painter came then, +as she raised her arms, the sleeves, of some filmy texture, falling back +from them with the gesture, and clasped her hands lightly behind her +neck, the graceful angle of her chin uplifted to the full rain of +moonshine. Little Miss Elliott, in the glamour of these same blue +showerings, had borrowed gauzy weavings of the fay and the sprite, but +Mrs. Harman--tall, straight, delicate to fragility, yet not to thinness-- +was transfigured with a deeper meaning, wearing the sadder, richer +colours of the tragedy that her cruel young romance had put upon her. +She might have posed as she stood against the marble railing--and +especially in that gesture of lifting her arms--for a bearer of the gift +at some foredestined luckless ceremony of votive offerings. So it +seemed, at least, to the eyes of a moon-dazed old painter-man. + +She stood in profile to me; there were some jasmine flowers at her +breast; I could see them rise and fall with more than deep breathing; +and I wondered what the man who had talked of her so wildly, only +yesterday, would feel if he could know that already the thought of him +had moved her. + +"I haven't HAD my life. It's gone!" It was almost as if I heard his +voice, close at hand, with all the passion of regret and protest that +rang in the words when they broke from him in the forest. And by some +miraculous conjecture, within the moment I seemed not only to hear his +voice but actually to see him, a figure dressed in white, far below us +and small with the distance, standing out in the moonlight in the middle +of the tree-bordered avenue leading to the chateau gates. + +I rose and leaned over the railing. There was no doubt about the reality +of the figure in white, though it was too far away to be identified with +certainty; and as I rubbed my eyes for clearer sight, it turned and +disappeared into the shadows of the orderly grove where I had stood, one +day, to watch Louise Harman ascend the slopes of Quesnay. But I told +myself, sensibly, that more than one man on the coast of Normandy might +be wearing white flannels that evening, and, turning to my companion, +found that she had moved some steps away from me and was gazing eastward +to the sea. I concluded that she had not seen the figure. + +"I have a request to make of you," she said, as I turned. "Will you do +it for me--setting it down just as a whim, if you like, and letting it +go at that?" + +"Yes, I will," I answered promptly. "I'll do anything you ask." + +She stepped closer, looked at me intently for a second, bit her lip in +indecision, then said, all in a breath: + +"Don't tell Mr. Saffren my name!" + +"But I hadn't meant to," I protested. + +"Don't speak of me to him at all," she said, with the same hurried +eagerness. "Will you let me have my way?" + +"Could there be any question of that?" I replied, and to my astonishment +found that we had somehow impulsively taken each other's hands, as upon +a serious bargain struck between us. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +The round moon was white and at its smallest, high overhead, when I +stepped out of the phaeton in which Miss Elizabeth sent me back to +Madame Brossard's; midnight was twanging from a rusty old clock indoors +as I crossed the fragrant courtyard to my pavilion; but a lamp still +burned in the salon of the "Grande Suite," a light to my mind more +suggestive of the patient watcher than of the scholar at his tome. + +When my own lamp was extinguished, I set my door ajar, moved my bed out +from the wall to catch whatever breeze might stir, "composed myself for +the night," as it used to be written, and lay looking out upon the quiet +garden where a thin white haze was rising. If, in taking this coign of +vantage, I had any subtler purpose than to seek a draught against the +warmth of the night, it did not fail of its reward, for just as I had +begun to drowse, the gallery steps creaked as if beneath some immoderate +weight, and the noble form of Keredec emerged upon my field of vision. +From the absence of the sound of footsteps I supposed him to be either +barefooted or in his stockings. His visible costume consisted of a +sleeping jacket tucked into a pair of trousers, while his tousled hair +and beard and generally tossed and rumpled look were those of a man who +had been lying down temporarily. + +I heard him sigh--like one sighing for sleep--as he went noiselessly +across the garden and out through the archway to the road. At that I sat +straight up in bed to stare--and well I might, for here was a miracle! +He had lifted his arms above his head to stretch himself comfortably, +and he walked upright and at ease, whereas when I had last seen him, the +night before, he had been able to do little more than crawl, bent far +over and leaning painfully upon his friend. Never man beheld a more +astonishing recovery from a bad case of rheumatism! + +After a long look down the road, he retraced his steps; and the +moonlight, striking across his great forehead as he came, revealed the +furrows ploughed there by an anxiety of which I guessed the cause. The +creaking of the wooden stairs and gallery and the whine of an old door +announced that he had returned to his vigil. + +I had, perhaps, a quarter of an hour to consider this performance, when +it was repeated; now, however, he only glanced out into the road, +retreating hastily, and I saw that he was smiling, while the speed he +maintained in returning to his quarters was remarkable for one so newly +convalescent. + +The next moment Saffron came through the archway, ascended the steps in +turn--but slowly and carefully, as if fearful of waking his guardian-- +and I heard his door closing, very gently. Long before his arrival, +however, I had been certain of his identity with the figure I had seen +gazing up at the terraces of Quesnay from the borders of the grove. +Other questions remained to bother me: Why had Keredec not prevented +this night-roving, and why, since he did permit it, should he conceal +his knowledge of it from Oliver? And what, oh, what wondrous specific +had the mighty man found for his disease? + +Morning failed to clarify these mysteries; it brought, however, +something rare and rich and strange. I allude to the manner of Amedee's +approach. The aged gossip-demoniac had to recognise the fact that he +could not keep out of my way for ever; there was nothing for it but to +put as good a face as possible upon a bad business, and get it over--and +the face he selected was a marvel; not less, and in no hasty sense of +the word. + +It appeared at my door to announce that breakfast waited outside. + +Primarily it displayed an expression of serenity, masterly in its +assumption that not the least, remotest, dreamiest shadow of danger +could possibly be conceived, by the most immoderately pessimistic and +sinister imagination, as even vaguely threatening. And for the rest, you +have seen a happy young mother teaching first steps to the first-born-- +that was Amedee. Radiantly tender, aggressively solicitous, diffusing +ineffable sweetness on the air, wreathed in seraphic smiles, beaming +caressingly, and aglow with a sacred joy that I should be looking so +well, he greeted me in a voice of honey and bowed me to my repast with +an unconcealed fondness at once maternal and reverential. + +I did not attempt to speak. I came out silently, uncannily fascinated, +my eyes fixed upon him, while he moved gently backward, cooing pleasant +words about the coffee, but just perceptibly keeping himself out of +arm's reach until I had taken my seat. When I had done that, he leaned +over the table and began to set useless things nearer my plate with +frankly affectionate care. It chanced that in "making a long arm" to +reach something I did want, my hand (of which the fingers happened to be +closed) passed rather impatiently beneath his nose. The madonna +expression changed instantly to one of horror, he uttered a startled +croak, and took a surprisingly long skip backward, landing in the screen +of honeysuckle vines, which, he seemed to imagine, were some new form of +hostility attacking him treacherously from the rear. They sagged, but +did not break from their fastenings, and his behaviour, as he lay thus +entangled, would have contrasted unfavourably in dignity with the +actions of a panic-stricken hen in a hammock. + +"And so conscience DOES make cowards of us all," I said, with no hope of +being understood. + +Recovering some measure of mental equilibrium at the same time that he +managed to find his feet, he burst into shrill laughter, to which he +tried in vain to impart a ring of debonair carelessness. + +"Eh, I stumble!" he cried with hollow merriment. "I fall about and faint +with fatigue! Pah! But it is nothing: truly!" + +"Fatigue!" I turned a bitter sneer upon him. "Fatigue! And you just out +of bed!" + +His fat hands went up palm outward; his heroic laughter was checked as +with a sob; an expression of tragic incredulity shone from his eyes. +Patently he doubted the evidence of his own ears; could not believe that +such black ingratitude existed in the world. "Absalom, O my son +Absalom!" was his unuttered cry. His hands fell to his sides; his chin +sank wretchedly into its own folds; his shirt-bosom heaved and crinkled; +arrows of unspeakable injustice had entered the defenceless breast. + +"Just out of bed!" he repeated, with a pathos that would have brought +the judge of any court in France down from the bench to kiss him--"And I +had risen long, long before the dawn, in the cold and darkness of the +night, to prepare the sandwiches of monsieur!" + +It was too much for me, or rather, he was. I stalked off to the woods in +a state of helpless indignation; mentally swearing that his day of +punishment at my hands was only deferred, not abandoned, yet secretly +fearing that this very oath might live for no purpose but to convict me +of perjury. His talents were lost in the country; he should have sought +his fortune in the metropolis. And his manner, as he summoned me that +evening to dinner, and indeed throughout the courses, partook of the +subtle condescension and careless assurance of one who has but faintly +enjoyed some too easy triumph. + +I found this so irksome that I might have been goaded into an outbreak +of impotent fury, had my attention not been distracted by the curious +turn of the professor's malady, which had renewed its painful assault +upon him. He came hobbling to table, leaning upon Saffren's shoulder, +and made no reference to his singular improvement of the night before-- +nor did I. His rheumatism was his own; he might do what he pleased with +it! There was no reason why he should confide the cause of its vagaries +to me. + +Table-talk ran its normal course; a great Pole's philosophy receiving +flagellation at the hands of our incorrigible optimist. ("If he could +understand," exclaimed Keredec, "that the individual must be immortal +before it is born, ha! then this babbler might have writted some +intelligence!") On the surface everything was as usual with our trio, +with nothing to show any turbulence of under-currents, unless it was a +certain alertness in Oliver's manner, a restrained excitement, and the +questioning restlessness of his eyes as they sought mine from time to +time. Whatever he wished to ask me, he was given no opportunity, for the +professor carried him off to work when our coffee was finished. As they +departed, the young man glanced back at me over his shoulder, with that +same earnest look of interrogation, but it went unanswered by any token +or gesture: for though I guessed that he wished to know if Mrs. Harman +had spoken of him to me, it seemed part of my bargain with her to give +him no sign that I understood. + +A note lay beside my plate next morning, addressed in a writing strange +to me, one of dashing and vigorous character. + +"In the pursuit of thrillingly scientific research," it read, "what with +the tumult which possessed me, I forgot to mention the bond that links +us; I, too, am a painter, though as yet unhonoured and unhung. It must +be only because I lack a gentle hand to guide me. If I might sit beside +you as you paint! The hours pass on leaden wings at Quesnay--I could +shriek! Do not refuse me a few words of instruction, either in the +wildwood, whither I could support your shrinking steps, or, from time to +time, as you work in your studio, which (I glean from the instructive +Mr. Ferret) is at Les Trois Pigeons. At any hour, at any moment, I will +speed to you. I am, sir, + +"Yours, if you will but breathe a 'yes,' + +"ANNE ELLIOTT." + +To this I returned a reply, as much in her own key as I could write it, +putting my refusal on the ground that I was not at present painting in +the studio. I added that I hoped her suit might prosper, regretting that +I could not be of greater assistance to that end, and concluded with the +suggestion that Madame Brossard might entertain an offer for lessons in +cooking. + +The result of my attempt to echo her vivacity was discomfiting, and I +was allowed to perceive that epistolary jocularity was not thought to be +my line. It was Miss Elizabeth who gave me this instruction three days +later, on the way to Quesnay for "second breakfast." Exercising fairly +shame-faced diplomacy, I had avoided dining at the chateau again, but, +by arrangement, she had driven over for me this morning in the phaeton. + +"Why are you writing silly notes to that child?" she demanded, as soon +as we were away from the inn. + +"Was it silly?" + +"You should know. Do you think that style of humour suitable for a young +girl?" + +This bewildered me a little. "But there wasn't anything offensive--" + +"No?" Miss Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows to a height of bland inquiry. +"She mightn't think it rather--well, rough? Your suggesting that she +should take cooking lessons?" + +"But SHE suggested she might take PAINTING lessons," was my feeble +protest. "I only meant to show her I understood that she wanted to get +to the inn." + +"And why should she care to 'get to the inn'?" + +"She seemed interested in a young man who is staying there. 'Interested' +is the mildest word for it I can think of." + +"Pooh!" Such was Miss Ward's enigmatic retort, and though I begged an +explanation I got none. Instead, she quickened the horse's gait and +changed the subject. + +At the chateau, having a mind to offer some sort of apology, I looked +anxiously about for the subject of our rather disquieting conversation, +but she was not to be seen until the party assembled at the table, set +under an awning on the terrace. Then, to my disappointment, I found no +opportunity to speak to her, for her seat was so placed as to make it +impossible, and she escaped into the house immediately upon the +conclusion of the repast, hurrying away too pointedly for any attempt to +detain her--though, as she passed, she sent me one glance of meek +reproach which she was at pains to make elaborately distinct. + +Again taking me for her neighbour at the table, Miss Elizabeth talked to +me at intervals, apparently having nothing, just then, to make up to Mr. +Cresson Ingle, but not long after we rose she accompanied him upon some +excursion of an indefinite nature, which led her from my sight. Thus, +the others making off to cards indoors and what not, I was left to the +perusal of the eighteenth century facade of the chateau, one of the most +competent restorations in that part of France, and of the liveliest +interest to the student or practitioner of architecture. + +Mrs. Harman had not appeared at all, having gone to call upon some one +at Dives, I was told, and a servant informing me (on inquiry) that Miss +Elliott had retired to her room, I was thrust upon my own devices +indeed, a condition already closely associated in my mind with this +picturesque spot. The likeliest of my devices--or, at least, the one I +hit upon--was in the nature of an unostentatious retreat. + +I went home. + +However, as the day was spoiled for work, I chose a roundabout way, in +fact the longest, and took the high-road to Dives, but neither the road +nor the town itself (when I passed through it) rewarded my vague hope +that I might meet Mrs. Harman, and I strode the long miles in +considerable disgruntlement, for it was largely in that hope that I had +gone to Quesnay. It put me in no merrier mood to find Miss Elizabeth's +phaeton standing outside the inn in charge of a groom, for my vanity +encouraged the supposition that she had come out of a fear that my +unceremonious departure from Quesnay might have indicated that I was +"hurt," or considered myself neglected; and I dreaded having to make +explanations. + +My apprehensions were unfounded; it was not Miss Elizabeth who had come +in the phaeton, though a lady from Quesnay did prove to be the occupant-- +the sole occupant--of the courtyard. At sight of her I halted stock- +still under the archway. + +There she sat, a sketch-book on a green table beside her and a board in +her lap, brazenly painting--and a more blushless piece of assurance than +Miss Anne Elliott thus engaged these eyes have never beheld. + +She was not so hardened that she did not affect a little timidity at +sight of me, looking away even more quickly than she looked up, while I +walked slowly over to her and took the garden chair beside her. That +gave me a view of her sketch, which was a violent little "lay-in" of +shrubbery, trees, and the sky-line of the inn. To my prodigious surprise +(and, naturally enough, with a degree of pleasure) I perceived that it +was not very bad, not bad at all, indeed. It displayed a sense of +values, of placing, and even, in a young and frantic way, of colour. +Here was a young woman of more than "accomplishments!" + +"You see," she said, squeezing one of the tiny tubes almost dry, and +continuing to paint with a fine effect of absorption, "I HAD to show you +that I was in the most ABYSMAL earnest. Will you take me painting with, +you?" + +"I appreciate your seriousness," I rejoined. "Has it been rewarded?" + +"How can I say? You haven't told me whether or no I may follow you to +the wildwood." + +"I mean, have you caught another glimpse of Mr. Saffren?" + +At that she showed a prettier colour in her cheeks than any in her +sketch-box, but gave no other sign of shame, nor even of being +flustered, cheerfully replying: + +"That is far from the point. Do you grant my burning plea?" "I +understood I had offended you." + +"You did," she said. "VICIOUSLY!" + +"I am sorry," I continued. "I wanted to ask you to forgive me--" + +I spoke seriously, and that seemed to strike her as odd or needing +explanation, for she levelled her blue eyes at me, and interrupted, with +something more like seriousness in her own voice than I had yet heard +from her: + +"What made you think I was offended?" + +"Your look of reproach when you left the table--" + +"Nothing else?" she asked quickly. + +"Yes; Miss Ward told me you were." + +"Yes; she drove over with you. That's it!" she exclaimed with vigour, +and nodded her head as if some suspicion of hers had been confirmed. "I +thought so!" + +"You thought she had told me?" + +"No," said Miss Elliott decidedly. "Thought that Elizabeth wanted to +have her cake and eat it too." + +"I don't understand." + +"Then you'll get no help from me," she returned slowly, a frown marking +her pretty forehead. "But I was only playing offended, and she knew it. +I thought your note was THAT fetching!" + +She continued to look thoughtful for a moment longer, then with a +resumption of her former manner--the pretence of an earnestness much +deeper than the real--"Will you take me painting with you?" she said. +"If it will convince you that I mean it, I'll give up my hopes of seeing +that SUMPTUOUS Mr. Saffren and go back to Quesnay now, before he comes +home. He's been out for a walk--a long one, since it's lasted ever since +early this morning, so the waiter told me. May I go with you? You CAN'T +know how enervating it is up there at the chateau--all except Mrs. +Harman, and even she--" + +"What about Mrs. Harman?" I asked, as she paused. + +"I think she must be in love." + +"What!" + +"I do think so," said the girl. "She's LIKE it, at least." + +"But with whom?" + +She laughed gaily. "I'm afraid she's my rival!" + +"Not with--" I began. + +"Yes, with your beautiful and mad young friend." + +"But--oh, it's preposterous!" I cried, profoundly disturbed. "She +couldn't be! If you knew a great deal about her--" + +"I may know more than you think. My simplicity of appearance is +deceptive," she mocked, beginning to set her sketch-box in order. "You +don't realise that Mrs. Harman and I are quite HURLED upon each other at +Quesnay, being two ravishingly intelligent women entirely surrounded by +large bodies of elementals. She has told me a great deal of herself +since that first evening, and I know--well, I know why she did not come +back from Dives this afternoon, for instance." + +"WHY?" I fairly shouted. + +She slid her sketch into a groove in the box, which she closed, and rose +to her feet before answering. Then she set her hat a little straighter +with a touch, looking so fixedly and with such grave interest over my +shoulder that I turned to follow her glance and encountered our +reflections in a window of the inn. Her own shed a light upon THAT +mystery, at all events. + +"I might tell you some day," she said indifferently, "if I gained enough +confidence in you through association in daily pursuits." + +"My dear young lady," I cried with real exasperation, "I am a working +man, and this is a working summer for me!" + +"Do you think I'd spoil it?" she urged gently. + +"But I get up with the first daylight to paint," I protested, "and I +paint all day--" + +She moved a step nearer me and laid her hand warningly upon my sleeve, +checking the outburst. + +I turned to see what she meant. + +Oliver Saffren had come in from the road and was crossing to the gallery +steps. He lifted his hat and gave me a quick word of greeting as he +passed, and at the sight of his flushed and happy face my riddle was +solved for me. Amazing as the thing was, I had no doubt of the +revelation. + +"Ah," I said to Miss Elliott when he had gone, "I won't have to take +pupils to get the answer to my question, now!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +"Ha, these philosophers," said the professor, expanding in discourse a +little later--"these dreamy people who talk of the spirit, they tell you +that spirit is abstract!" He waved his great hand in a sweeping +semicircle which carried it out of our orange candle-light and freckled +it with the cold moonshine which sieved through the loosened screen of +honeysuckle. "Ha, the folly!" + +"What do YOU say it is?" I asked, moving so that the smoke of my cigar +should not drift toward Oliver, who sat looking out into the garden. + +"I, my friend? I do not say that it IS! But all such things, they are +only a question of names, and when I use the word 'spirit' I mean +identity--universal identity, if you like. It is what we all are, yes-- +and those flowers, too. But the spirit of the flowers is not what you +smell, nor what you see, that look so pretty: it is the flowers +themself! Yet all spirit is only one spirit and one spirit is all +spirit--and if you tell me this is Pant'eism I will tell you that you do +not understand!" + +"I don't tell you that," said I, "neither do I understand." + +"Nor that big Keredec either!" Whereupon he loosed the rolling thunder +of his laughter. "Nor any brain born of the monkey people! But this +world is full of proof that everything that exist is all one thing, and +it is the instinct of that, when it draws us together, which makes what +we call 'love.' Even those wicked devils of egoism in our inside is only +love which grows too long the wrong way, like the finger nails of the +Chinese empress. Young love is a little sprout of universal unity. When +the young people begin to feel it, THEY are not abstract, ha? And the +young man, when he selects, he chooses one being from all the others to +mean--just for him--all that great universe of which he is a part." + +This was wandering whimsically far afield, but as I caught the good- +humoured flicker of the professor's glance at our companion I thought I +saw a purpose in his deviation. Saffren turned toward him wonderingly, +his unconscious, eager look remarkably emphasised and brightened. + +"All such things are most strange--great mysteries," continued the +professor. "For when a man has made the selection, THAT being DOES +become all the universe, and for him there is nothing else at all-- +nothing else anywhere!" + +Saffren's cheeks and temples were flushed as they had been when I saw +him returning that afternoon; and his eyes were wide, fixed upon Keredec +in a stare of utter amazement. + +"Yes, that is true," he said slowly. "How did you know?" + +Keredec returned his look with an attentive scrutiny, and made some +exclamation under his breath, which I did not catch, but there was no +mistaking his high good humour. + +"Bravo!" he shouted, rising and clapping the other upon the shoulder. +"You will soon cure my rheumatism if you ask me questions like that! Ho, +ho, ho!" He threw back his head and let the mighty salvos forth. "Ho, +ho, ho! How do I know? The young, always they believe they are the only +ones who were ever young! Ho, ho, ho! Come, we shall make those lessons +very easy to-night. Come, my friend! How could that big, old Keredec +know of such things? He is too old, too foolish! Ho, ho, ho!" + +As he went up the steps, the courtyard reverberating again to his +laughter, his arm resting on Saffren's shoulders, but not so heavily as +usual. The door of their salon closed upon them, and for a while +Keredec's voice could be heard booming cheerfully; it ended in another +burst of laughter. + +A moment later Saffren opened the door and called to me. + +"Here," I answered from my veranda, where I had just lighted my second +cigar. + +"No more work to-night. All finished," he cried jubilantly, springing +down the steps. "I'm coming to have a talk with you." + +Amedee had removed the candles, the moon had withdrawn in fear of a +turbulent mob of clouds, rioting into our sky from seaward; the air +smelled of imminent rain, and it was so dark that I could see my visitor +only as a vague, tall shape; but a happy excitement vibrated in his rich +voice, and his step on the gravelled path was light and exultant. + +"I won't sit down," he said. "I'll walk up and down in front of the +veranda--if it doesn't make you nervous." + +For answer I merely laughed; and he laughed too, in genial response, +continuing gaily: + +"Oh, it's all so different with me! Everything is. That BLIND feeling I +told you of--it's all gone. I must have been very babyish, the other +day; I don't think I could feel like that again. It used to seem to me +that I lived penned up in a circle of blank stone walls; I couldn't see +over the top for myself at all, though now and then Keredec would boost +me up and let me get a little glimmer of the country round about--but +never long enough to see what it was really like. But it's not so now. +Ah!"--he drew a long breath--"I'd like to run. I think I could run all +the way to the top of a pretty fair-sized mountain to-night, and then"-- +he laughed--"jump off and ride on the clouds." + +"I know how that is," I responded. "At least I did know--a few years +ago." + +"Everything is a jumble with me," he went on happily, in a confidential +tone, "yet it's a heavenly kind of jumble. I can't put anything into +words. I don't THINK very well yet, though Keredec is trying to teach +me. My thoughts don't run in order, and this that's happened seems to +make them wilder, queerer--" He stopped short. + +"What has happened?" + +He paused in his sentry-go, facing me, and answered, in a low voice: + +"I've seen her again." + +"Yes, I know." + +"She told me you knew it," he said, "--that she had told you." + +"Yes." + +"But that's not all," he said, his voice rising a little. "I saw her +again the day after she told you--" + +"You did!" I murmured. + +"Oh, I tell myself that it's a dream," he cried, "that it CAN'T be true. +For it has been EVERY day since then! That's why I haven't joined you in +the woods. I have been with her, walking with her, listening to her, +looking at her--always feeling that it must be unreal and that I must +try not to wake up. She has been so kind--so wonderfully, beautifully +kind to me!" + +"She has met you?" I asked, thinking ruefully of George Ward, now on the +high seas in the pleasant company of old hopes renewed. + +"She has let me meet her. And to-day we lunched at the inn at Dives and +then walked by the sea all afternoon. She gave me the whole day--the +whole day! You see"--he began to pace again--"you see I was right, and +you were wrong. She wasn't offended--she was glad--that I couldn't help +speaking to her; she has said so." + +"Do you think," I interrupted, "that she would wish you to tell me +this?" + +"Ah, she likes you!" he said so heartily, and appearing meanwhile so +satisfied with the completeness of his reply, that I was fain to take +some satisfaction in it myself. "What I wanted most to say to you," he +went on, "is this: you remember you promised to tell me whatever you +could learn about her--and about her husband?" + +"I remember." + +"It's different now. I don't want you to," he said. "I want only to know +what she tells me herself. She has told me very little, but I know when +the time comes she WILL tell me everything. But I wouldn't hasten it. I +wouldn't have anything changed from just THIS!" + +"You mean--" + +"I mean the way it IS. If I could hope to see her every day, to be in +the woods with her, or down by the shore--oh, I don't want to know +anything but that!" + +"No doubt you have told her," I ventured, "a good deal about yourself," +and was instantly ashamed of myself. I suppose I spoke out of a sense of +protest against Mrs. Harman's strange lack of conventionality, against +so charming a lady's losing her head as completely as she seemed to have +lost hers, and it may have been, too, out of a feeling of jealousy for +poor George--possibly even out of a little feeling of the same sort on +my own account. But I couldn't have said it except for the darkness, +and, as I say, I was instantly ashamed. + +It does not whiten my guilt that the shaft did not reach him. + +"I've told her all I know," he said readily, and the unconscious pathos +of the answer smote me. "And all that Keredec has let me know. You see I +haven't--" + +"But do you think," I interrupted quickly, anxious, in my remorse, to +divert him from that channel, "do you think Professor Keredec would +approve, if he knew?" + +"I think he would," he responded slowly, pausing in his walk again. "I +have a feeling that perhaps he does know, and yet I have been afraid to +tell him, afraid he might try to stop me--keep me from going to wait for +her. But he has a strange way of knowing things; I think he knows +everything in the world! I have felt to-night that he knows this, and-- +it's very strange, but I--well, what WAS it that made him so glad?" + +"The light is still burning in his room," I said quietly. + +"You mean that I ought to tell him?" His voice rose a little. + +"He's done a good deal for you, hasn't he?" I suggested. "And even if he +does know he might like to hear it from you." + +"You're right; I'll tell him to-night." This came with sudden decision, +but with less than marked what followed. "But he can't stop me, now. No +one on earth shall do that, except Madame d'Armand herself. No one!" + +"I won't quarrel with that," I said drily, throwing away my cigar, which +had gone out long before. + +He hesitated, and then I saw his hand groping toward me in the darkness, +and, rising, I gave him mine. + +"Good night," he said, and shook my hand as the first sputterings of the +coming rain began to patter on the roof of the pavilion. "I'm glad to +tell him; I'm glad to have told you. Ah, but isn't this," he cried, "a +happy world!" + +Turning, he ran to the gallery steps. "At last I'm glad," he called back +over his shoulder, "I'm glad that I was born--" + +A gust of wind blew furiously into the courtyard at that instant, and I +heard his voice indistinctly, but I thought--though I might have been +mistaken--that I caught a final word, and that it was "again." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The rain of two nights and two days had freshened the woods, deepening +the green of the tree-trunks and washing the dust from the leaves, and +now, under the splendid sun of the third morning, we sat painting in a +sylvan aisle that was like a hall of Aladdin's palace, the filigreed +arches of foliage above us glittering with pendulous rain-drops. But +Arabian Nights' palaces are not to my fancy for painting; the air, +rinsed of its colour, was too sparklingly clean; the interstices of sky +and the roughly framed distances I prized, were brought too close. It +was one of those days when Nature throws herself straight in your face +and you are at a loss to know whether she has kissed you or slapped you, +though you are conscious of the tingle;--a day, in brief, more for +laughing than for painting, and the truth is that I suited its mood only +too well, and laughed more than I painted, though I sat with my easel +before me and a picture ready upon my palette to be painted. + +No one could have understood better than I that this was setting a bad +example to the acolyte who sat, likewise facing an easel, ten paces to +my left; a very sportsmanlike figure of a painter indeed, in her short +skirt and long coat of woodland brown, the fine brown of dead oak- +leaves; a "devastating" selection of colour that!--being much the same +shade as her hair--with brown for her hat too, and the veil encircling +the small crown thereof, and brown again for the stout, high, laced +boots which protected her from the wet tangle underfoot. Who could have +expected so dashing a young person as this to do any real work at +painting? Yet she did, narrowing her eyes to the finest point of +concentration, and applying herself to the task in hand with a +persistence which I found, on that particular morning, far beyond my own +powers. + +As she leaned back critically, at the imminent risk of capsizing her +camp-stool, and herself with it, in her absorption, some ill-suppressed +token of amusement most have caught her ear, for she turned upon me with +suspicion, and was instantly moved to moralize upon the reluctance I had +shown to accept her as a companion for my excursions; taking as her +theme, in contrast, her own present display of ambition; all in all a +warm, if over-coloured, sketch of the idle master and the industrious +apprentice. It made me laugh again, upon which she changed the subject. + +"An indefinable something tells me," she announced coldly, "that +henceforth you needn't be so DRASTICALLY fearful of being dragged to the +chateau for dinner, nor dejeuner either!" + +"Did anything ever tell you that I had cause to fear it?" + +"Yes," she said, but too simply. "Jean Ferret." + +"Anglicise that ruffian's name," I muttered, mirth immediately withering +upon me, "and you'll know him better. To save time: will you mention +anything you can think of that he HASN'T told you?" + +Miss Elliott cocked her head upon one side to examine the work of art +she was producing, while a slight smile, playing about her lips, seemed +to indicate that she was appeased. "You and Miss Ward are old and dear +friends, aren't you?" she asked absently. + +"We are!" I answered between my teeth. "For years I have sent her costly +jewels--" + +She interrupted me by breaking outright into a peal of laughter, which +rang with such childish delight that I retorted by offering several +malevolent observations upon the babbling of French servants and the +order of mind attributable to those who listened to them. Her defence +was to affect inattention and paint busily until some time after I had +concluded. + +"I think she's going to take Cressie Ingle," she said dreamily, with the +air of one whose thoughts have been far, far away. "It looks +preponderously like it. She's been teetertottering these AGES and AGES +between you--" + +"Between whom?" + +"You and Mr. Ingle," she replied, not altering her tone in the +slightest. "But she's all for her brother, of course, and though you're +his friend, Ingle is a personage in the world they court, and among the +MULTITUDINOUS things his father left him is an art magazine, or one +that's long on art or something of that sort--I don't know just what--so +altogether it will be a good thing for DEAREST Mr. Ward. She likes +Cressie, of course, though I think she likes you better--" + +I managed to find my voice and interrupt the thistle-brained creature. +"What put these fantasias into your head?" + +"Not Jean Ferret," she responded promptly. + +"It's cruel of me to break it to you so coarsely--I know--but if you are +ever going to make up your mind to her building as glaring a success of +you as she has of her brother, I think you must do it now. She's on the +point of accepting Mr. Ingle, and what becomes of YOU will depend on +your conduct in the most immediate future. She won't ask you to Quesnay +again, so you'd better go up there on your own accord.--And on your +bended knees, too!" she added as an afterthought. + +I sought for something to say which might have a chance of impressing +her--a desperate task on the face of it--and I mentioned that Miss Ward +was her hostess. + +One might as well have tried to impress Amedee. She "made a little +mouth" and went on dabbling with her brushes. "Hostess? Pooh!" she said +cheerfully. "My INFANTILE father sent me here to be in her charge while +he ran home to America. Mr. Ward's to paint my portrait, when he comes. +Give and take--it's simple enough, you see!" + +Here was frankness with a vengeance, and I fell back upon silence, +whereupon a pause ensued, to my share of which I imparted the deepest +shadow of disapproval within my power. Unfortunately, she did not look +at me; my effort passed with no other effect than to make some of my +facial muscles ache. + +"'Portrait of Miss E., by George Ward, H. C.,'" this painfully plain- +speaking young lady continued presently. "On the line at next spring's +Salon, then packed up for the dear ones at home. I'd as soon own an 'Art +Bronze,' myself--or a nice, clean porcelain Arab." + +"No doubt you've forgotten for the moment," I said, "that Mr. Ward is my +friend." + +"Not in painting, he isn't," she returned quickly, + +"I consider his work altogether creditable; it's carefully done, +conscientious, effective--" + +"Isn't that true of the ladies in the hairdressers' windows?" she asked +with assumed artlessness. "Can't you say a kind word for them, good +gentleman, and heaven bless you?" + +"Why sha'n't I be asked to Quesnay again?" + +She laughed. "You haven't seemed FANATICALLY appreciative of your +opportunities when you have been there; you might have carried her off +from Cresson Ingle instead of vice versa. But after all, you AREN'T"-- +here she paused and looked at me appraisingly for a moment-"you AREN'T +the most piratical dash-in-and-dash-out and leave-everything-upside- +down-behind-you sort of man, are you?" + +"No, I believe I'm not." + +"However, that's only a SMALL half of the reason," Miss Elliott went on. +"She's furious on account of this." + +These were vague words, and I said so. + +"Oh, THIS," she explained, "my being here; your letting me come. +Impropriety--all of that!" A sharp whistle issued from her lips. "Oh! +the EXCORIATING things she's said of my pursuing you!" + +"But doesn't she know that it's only part of your siege of Madame +Brossard's; that it's a subterfuge in the hope of catching a glimpse of +Oliver Saffren?" + +"No!" she cried, her eyes dancing; "I told her that, but she thinks it's +only a subterfuge in the hope of catching more than a glimpse of you!" + +I joined laughter with her then. She was the first to stop, and, looking +at me somewhat doubtfully, she said: + +"Whereas, the truth is that it's neither. You know very well that I want +to paint." + +"Certainly," I agreed at once. "Your devotion to 'your art' and your +hope of spending half an hour at Madame Brossard's now and then are +separable;--which reminds me: Wouldn't you like me to look at your +sketch?" + +"No, not yet." She jumped up and brought her camp-stool over to mine. "I +feel that I could better bear what you'll say of it after I've had some +lunch. Not a SYLLABLE of food has crossed my lips since coffee at dawn!" + +I spread before her what Amedee had prepared; not sandwiches for the +pocket to-day, but a wicker hamper, one end of which we let rest upon +her knees, the other upon mine, and at sight of the foie gras, the +delicate, devilled partridge, the truffled salad, the fine yellow +cheese, and the long bottle of good red Beaune, revealed when the cover +was off, I could almost have forgiven the old rascal for his scandal- +mongering. As for my vis-a-vis, she pronounced it a "maddening sight." + +"Fall to, my merry man," she added, "and eat your fill of this fair +pasty, under the greenwood tree." Obeying her instructions with right +good-will, and the lady likewise evincing no hatred of the viands, we +made a cheerful meal of it, topping it with peaches and bunches of +grapes. + +"It is unfair to let you do all the catering," said Miss Elliott, after +carefully selecting the largest and best peach. + +"Jean Ferret's friend does that," I returned, watching her rather +intently as she dexterously peeled the peach. She did it very daintily, +I had to admit that--though I regretted to observe indications of the +gourmet in one so young. But when it was peeled clean, she set it on a +fresh green leaf, and, to my surprise, gave it to me. + +"You see," she continued, not observing my remorseful confusion, "I +couldn't destroy Elizabeth's peace of mind and then raid her larder to +boot. That poor lady! I make her trouble enough, but it's nothing to +what she's going to have when she finds out some things that she must +find out." + +"What is that?" + +"About Mrs. Harman," was the serious reply. "Elizabeth hasn't a clue." + +"'Clue'?" I echoed. + +"To Louise's strange affair." Miss Elliott's expression had grown as +serious as her tone. "It is strange; the strangest thing I ever knew." + +"But there's your own case," I urged. "Why should you think it strange +of her to take an interest in Saffren?" + +"I adore him, of course," she said. "He is the most glorious-looking +person I've ever seen, but on my WORD--" She paused, and as her gaze met +mine I saw real earnestness in her eyes. "I'm afraid--I was half joking +the other day--but now I'm really afraid Louise is beginning to be in +love with him." + +"Oh, mightn't it be only interest, so far?" I said. + +"No, it's much more. And I've grown so fond of her!" the girl went on, +her voice unexpectedly verging upon tremulousness. "She's quite +wonderful in her way--such an understanding sort of woman, and generous +and kind; there are so many things turning up in a party like ours at +Quesnay that show what people are really made of, and she's a rare, fine +spirit. It seems a pity, with such a miserable first experience as she +had, that this should happen. Oh I know," she continued rapidly, cutting +off a half-formed protest of mine. "He isn't mad--and I'm sorry I tried +to be amusing about it the night you dined at the chateau. I know +perfectly well he's not insane; but I'm absolutely sure, from one thing +and another, that--well--he isn't ALL THERE! He's as beautiful as a +seraph and probably as good as one, but something is MISSING about him-- +and it begins to look like a second tragedy for her." + +"You mean, she really--" I began. + +"Yes, I do," she returned, with a catch in her throat. "She conies to my +room when the others are asleep. Not that she tells me a great deal, but +it's in the air, somehow; she told me with such a strained sort of +gaiety of their meeting and his first joining her; and there was +something underneath as if she thought _I_ might be really serious in my +ravings about him, and--yes, as if she meant to warn me off. And the +other night, when I saw her after their lunching together at Dives, I +asked her teasingly if she'd had a happy day, and she laughed the +prettiest laugh I ever heard and put her arms around me--then suddenly +broke out crying and ran out of the room." + +"But that may have been no more than over-strained nerves," I feebly +suggested. + +"Of course it was!" she cried, regarding me with justifiable +astonishment. "It's the CAUSE of their being overstrained that interests +me! It's all so strange and distressing," she continued more gently, +"that I wish I weren't there to see it. And there's poor George Ward +coming--ah! and when Elizabeth learns of it!" + +"Mrs. Harman had her way once, in spite of everything," I said +thoughtfully. + +"Yes, she was a headstrong girl of nineteen, then. But let's not think +it could go as far as that! There!" She threw a peach-stone over her +shoulder and sprang up gaily. "Let's not talk of it; I THINK of it +enough! It's time for you to give me a RACKING criticism on my morning's +work." + +Taking off her coat as she spoke, she unbuttoned the cuffs of her manly +blouse and rolled up her sleeves as far as they would go, preparations +which I observed with some perplexity. + +"If you intend any violence," said I, "in case my views of your work +shouldn't meet your own, I think I'll be leaving." + +"Wait," she responded, and kneeling upon one knee beside a bush near by, +thrust her arms elbow-deep under the outer mantle of leaves, shaking the +stems vigorously, and sending down a shower of sparkling drops. Never +lived sane man, or madman, since time began, who, seeing her then, could +or would have denied that she made the very prettiest picture ever seen +by any person or persons whatsoever--but her purpose was difficult to +fathom. Pursuing it, I remarked that it was improbable that birds would +be nesting so low. + +"It's for a finger bowl," she said briskly. And rising, this most +practical of her sex dried her hands upon a fresh serviette from the +hamper. "Last night's rain is worth two birds in the bush." + +With that, she readjusted her sleeves, lightly donned her coat, and +preceded me to her easel. "Now," she commanded, "slaughter! It's what I +let you come with me for." + +I looked at her sketch with much more attention than I had given the +small board she had used as a bait in the courtyard of Les Trois +Pigeons. Today she showed a larger ambition, and a larger canvas as +well--or, perhaps I should say a larger burlap, for she had chosen to +paint upon something strongly resembling a square of coffee-sacking. But +there was no doubt she had "found colour" in a swash-buckling, bullying +style of forcing it to be there, whether it was or not, and to +"vibrate," whether it did or not. There was not much to be said, for the +violent kind of thing she had done always hushes me; and even when it is +well done I am never sure whether its right place is the "Salon des +Independants" or the Luxembourg. It SEEMS dreadful, and yet sometimes I +fear in secret that it may be a real transition, or even an awakening, +and that the men I began with, and I, are standing still. The older men +called US lunatics once, and the critics said we were "daring," but that +was long ago. + +"Well?" she said. + +I had to speak, so I paraphrased a mot of Degas (I think it was Degas) +and said: + +"If Rousseau could come to life and see this sketch of yours, I imagine +he would be very much interested, but if he saw mine he might say, 'That +is my fault!'" + +"OH!" she cried, her colour rising quickly; she looked troubled for a +second, then her eyes twinkled. "You're not going to let my work make a +difference between us, are you?" + +"I'll even try to look at it from your own point of view," I answered, +stepping back several yards to see it better, though I should have had +to retire about a quarter of the length of a city block to see it quite +from her own point of view. + +She moved with me, both of us walking backward. I began: + +"For a day like this, with all the colour in the trees themselves and so +very little in the air--" + +There came an interruption, a voice of unpleasant and wiry nasality, +speaking from behind us. + +"WELL, WELL!" it said. "So here we are again!" + +I faced about and beheld, just emerged from a by-path, a fox-faced young +man whose light, well-poised figure was jauntily clad in gray serge, +with scarlet waistcoat and tie, white shoes upon his feet, and a white +hat, gaily beribboned, upon his head. A recollection of the dusky road +and a group of people about Pere Baudry's lamplit door flickered across +my mind. + +"The historical tourist!" I exclaimed. "The highly pedestrian tripper +from Trouville!" + +"You got me right, m'dear friend," he replied with condescension; "I +rec'leck meetin' you perfect." + +"And I was interested to learn," said I, carefully observing the effect +of my words upon him, "that you had been to Les Trois Pigeons after all. +Perhaps I might put it, you had been through Les Trois Pigeons, for the +maitre d'hotel informed me you had investigated every corner--that +wasn't locked." + +"Sure," he returned, with rather less embarrassment than a brazen Vishnu +would have exhibited under the same circumstances. "He showed me what +pitchers they was in your studio. I'll luk 'em over again fer ye one of +these days. Some of 'em was right gud." + +"You will be visiting near enough for me to avail myself of the +opportunity?" + +"Right in the Pigeon House, m'friend. I've just come down t'putt in a +few days there," he responded coolly. "They's a young feller in this +neighbourhood I take a kind o' fam'ly interest in." + +"Who is that?" I asked quickly. + +For answer he produced the effect of a laugh by widening and lifting one +side of his mouth, leaving the other, meantime, rigid. + +"Don' lemme int'rup' the conv'sation with yer lady-friend," he said +winningly. "What they call 'talkin' High Arts,' wasn't it? I'd like to +hear some." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Miss Elliott's expression, when I turned to observe the effect of the +intruder upon her, was found to be one of brilliant delight. With +glowing eyes, her lips parted in a breathless ecstasy, she gazed upon +the newcomer, evidently fearing to lose a syllable that fell from his +lips. Moving closer to me she whispered urgently: + +"Keep him. Oh, keep him!" + +To detain him, for a time at least, was my intention, though my motive +was not merely to afford her pleasure. The advent of the young man had +produced a singularly disagreeable impression upon me, quite apart from +any antagonism I might have felt toward him as a type. Strange +suspicions leaped into my mind, formless--in the surprise of the moment-- +but rapidly groping toward definite outline; and following hard upon +them crept a tingling apprehension. The reappearance of this rattish +youth, casual as was the air with which he strove to invest it, began to +assume, for me, the character of a theatrical entrance of unpleasant +portent--a suggestion just now enhanced by an absurdly obvious notion of +his own that he was enacting a part. This was written all over him, most +legibly in his attitude of the knowing amateur, as he surveyed Miss +Elliott's painting patronisingly, his head on one side, his cane in the +crook of his elbows behind his back, and his body teetering genteelly as +he shifted his weight from his toes to his heels and back again, nodding +meanwhile a slight but judicial approbation. + +"Now, about how much," he said slowly, "would you expec' t' git f'r a +pitcher that size?" + +"It isn't mine," I informed him. + +"You don't tell me it's the little lady's--what?" He bowed genially and +favoured Miss Elliott with a stare of warm admiration. "Pretty a thing +as I ever see," he added. + +"Oh," she cried with an ardour that choked her slightly. "THANK you!" + +"Oh, I meant the PITCHER!" he said hastily, evidently nonplussed by a +gratitude so fervent. + +The incorrigible damsel cast down her eyes in modesty. "And I had +hoped," she breathed, "something so different!" + +I could not be certain whether or not he caught the whisper; I thought +he did. At all events, the surface of his easy assurance appeared +somewhat disarranged; and, perhaps to restore it by performing the rites +of etiquette, he said: + +"Well, I expec' the smart thing now is to pass the cards, but mine's in +my grip an' it ain't unpacked yet. The name you'd see on 'em is Oil +Poicy." + +"Oil Poicy," echoed Miss Elliott, turning to me in genuine astonishment. + +"Mr. Earl Percy," I translated. + +"Oh, RAPTUROUS!" she cried, her face radiant. "And WON'T Mr. Percy give +us his opinion of my Art?" + +Mr. Percy was in doubt how to take her enthusiasm; he seemed on the +point of turning surly, and hesitated, while a sharp vertical line +appeared on his small forehead; but he evidently concluded, after a deep +glance at her, that if she was making game of him it was in no ill- +natured spirit--nay, I think that for a few moments he suspected her +liveliness to be some method of her own for the incipient stages of a +flirtation. + +Finally he turned again to the easel, and as he examined the painting +thereon at closer range, amazement overspread his features. However, +pulling himself together, he found himself able to reply--and with great +gallantry: + +"Well, on'y t' think them little hands cud 'a' done all that rough +woik!" + +The unintended viciousness of this retort produced an effect so marked, +that, except for my growing uneasiness, I might have enjoyed her +expression. + +As it was, I saved her face by entering into the conversation with a +question, which I put quickly: + +"You intend pursuing your historical researches in the neighborhood?" + +The facial contortion which served him for a laugh, and at the same time +as a symbol of unfathomable reserve, was repeated, accompanied by a +jocose manifestation, in the nature of a sharp and taunting cackle, +which seemed to indicate a conviction that he was getting much the best +of it in some conflict of wits. + +"Them fairy tales I handed you about ole Jeanne d'Arc and William the +Conker," he said, "say, they must 'a' made you sore after-WOIDS!" + +"On the contrary, I was much interested in everything pertaining to your +too brief visit," I returned; "I am even more so now." + +"Well, m'friend"--he shot me a sidelong, distrustful glance--"keep yer +eyes open." + +"That is just the point!" I laughed, with intentional significance, for +I meant to make Mr. Percy talk as much as I could. To this end, +remembering that specimens of his kind are most indiscreet when +carefully enraged, I added, simulating his own manner: + +"Eyes open--and doors locked! What?" + +At this I heard a gasp of astonishment from Miss Elliott, who must have +been puzzled indeed; but I was intent upon the other. He proved +perfectly capable of being insulted. + +"I guess they ain't much need o' lockin' YOUR door," he retorted darkly; +"not from what I saw when I was in your studio!" He should have stopped +there, for the hit was palpable and justified; but in his resentment he +overdid it. "You needn't be scared of anybody's cartin' off THEM +pitchers, young feller! WHOOSH! An' f'm the luks of the CLO'ES I saw +hangin' on the wall," he continued, growing more nettled as I smiled +cheerfully upon him, "I don' b'lieve you gut any worries comin' about +THEM, neither!" + +"I suppose our tastes are different," I said, letting my smile broaden. +"There might be protection in that." + +His stare at me was protracted to an unseemly length before the sting of +this remark reached him; it penetrated finally, however, and in his +sharp change of posture there was a lightning flicker of the experienced +boxer; but he checked the impulse, and took up the task of obliterating +me in another way. + +"As I tell the little dame here," he said, pitching his voice higher and +affecting the plaintive, "I make no passes at a friend o' her--not in +front o' her, anyways. But when it comes to these here ole, ancient +curiosities"--he cackled again, loudly--"well, I guess them clo'es I +see, that day, kin hand it out t' anything they got in the museums! +'Look here,' I says to the waiter, 'THESE must be'n left over f'm ole +Jeanne d'Arc herself,' I says. 'Talk about yer relics,' I says. Whoosh! +I'd like t' died!" He laughed violently, and concluded by turning upon +me with a contemptuous flourish of his stick. "You think I d'know what +makes YOU so raw?" + +The form of repartee necessary to augment his ill humour was, of course, +a matter of simple mechanism for one who had not entirely forgotten his +student days in the Quarter; and I delivered it airily, though I +shivered inwardly that Miss Elliott should hear. + +"Everything will be all right if, when you dine at the inn, you'll sit +with your back toward me." + +To my shamed surprise, this roustabout wit drew a nervous, silvery +giggle from her; and that completed the work with Mr. Percy, whose face +grew scarlet with anger. + +"You're a hot one, you are!" he sneered, with shocking bitterness. +"You're quite the teaser, ain't ye, s'long's yer lady-friend is lukkin' +on! I guess they'll be a few surprises comin' YOUR way, before long. +P'raps I cudn't give ye one now 'f I had a mind to." + +"Pshaw," I laughed, and, venturing at hazard, said, "I know all YOU +know!" + +"Oh, you do!" he cried scornfully. "I reckon you might set up an' take a +little notice, though, if you knowed 'at I know all YOU know!" + +"Not a bit of it!" + +"No? Maybe you think I don't know what makes you so raw with ME? Maybe +you think I don't know who ye've got so thick with at this here Pigeon +House; maybe you think I don't know who them people ARE!" + +"No, you don't. You have learned," I said, trying to control my +excitement, "nothing! Whoever hired YOU for a spy lost the money. YOU +don't know ANY-thing!" + +"I DON'T!" And with that his voice went to a half-shriek. "Maybe you +think I'm down here f'r my health; maybe you think I come out f'r a +pleasant walk in the woods right now; maybe you think I ain't seen no +other lady-friend o' yours besides this'n to-day, and maybe I didn't see +who was with her--yes, an' maybe you think I d'know no other times he's +be'n with her. Maybe you think I ain't be'n layin' low over at Dives! +Maybe I don't know a few real NAMES in this neighbourhood! Oh, no, MAYBE +not!" + +"You know what the maitre d'hotel told you; nothing more." + +"How about the name--OLIVER SAFFREN?" he cried fiercely, and at last, +though I had expected it, I uttered an involuntary exclamation. + +"How about it?" he shouted, advancing toward me triumphantly, shaking +his forefinger in my face. "Hey? THAT stings some, does it? Sounds kind +o' like a FALSE name, does it? Got ye where the hair is short, that +time, didn't I?" + +"Speaking of names," I retorted, "'Oil Poicy' doesn't seem to ring +particularly true to me!" + +"It'll be gud enough fer you, young feller," he responded angrily. "It +may belong t' me, an' then again, it maybe don't. It ain' gunna git me +in no trouble; I'll luk out f'r that. YOUR side's where the trouble is; +that's what's eatin' into you. An' I'll tell you flat-foot, your gittin' +rough 'ith me and playin' Charley the Show-Off in front o' yer lady- +friends'll all go down in the bill. These people ye've got so chummy +with--THEY'LL pay f'r it all right, don't you shed no tears over that!" + +"You couldn't by any possibility," I said deliberately, with as much +satire as I could command, "you couldn't possibly mean that any sum of +mere money might be a salve for the injuries my unkind words have +inflicted?" + +Once more he seemed upon the point of destroying me physically, but, +with a slight shudder, controlled himself. Stepping close to me, he +thrust his head forward and measured the emphases of his speech by his +right forefinger upon my shoulder, as he said: + +"You paint THIS in yer pitchers, m' dear friend; they's jest as much law +in this country as they is on the corner o' Twenty-thoid Street an' Fif' +Avenoo! You keep out the way of it, or you'll git runned over!" + +Delivering a final tap on my shoulder as a last warning, he wheeled +deftly upon his heel, addressed Miss Elliott briefly, "Glad t' know YOU, +lady," and striking into the by-path by which he had approached us, was +soon lost to sight. + +The girl faced me excitedly. "What IS it?" she cried. "It seemed to me +you insulted him deliberately--" + +"I did." + +"You wanted to make him angry?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! I thought so!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "I knew there was +something serious underneath. It's about Mr. Saffren?" + +"It is serious indeed, I fear," I said, and turning to my own easel, +began to get my traps together. "I'll tell you the little I know, +because I want you to tell Mrs. Harman what has just happened, and +you'll be able to do it better if you understand what is understandable +about the rest of it." + +"You mean you wouldn't tell me so that I could understand for myself?" +There was a note of genuine grieved reproach in her voice. "Ah, then +I've made you think me altogether a hare-brain!" + +"I haven't time to tell you what I think of you," I said brusquely, and, +strangely enough, it seemed to please her. But I paid little attention +to that, continuing quickly: "When Professor Keredec and Mr. Saffren +came to Les Trois Pigeons, they were so careful to keep out of +everybody's sight that one might have suspected that they were in +hiding--and, in fact, I'm sure that they were--though, as time passed +and nothing alarming happened, they've felt reassured and allowed +themselves more liberty. It struck me that Keredec at first dreaded that +they might be traced to the inn, and I'm afraid his fear was justified, +for one night, before I came to know them, I met Mr. 'Percy' on the +road; he'd visited Madame Brossard's and pumped Amedee dry, but clumsily +tried to pretend to me that he had not been there at all. At the time, I +did not connect him even remotely with Professor Keredec's anxieties. I +imagined he might have an eye to the spoons; but it's as ridiculous to +think him a burglar as it would be to take him for a detective. What he +is, or what he has to do with Mr. Saffren, I can guess no more than I +can guess the cause of Keredec's fears, but the moment I saw him to-day, +saw that he'd come back, I knew it was THAT, and tried to draw him out. +You heard what he said; there's no doubt that Saffren stands in danger +of some kind. It may be inconsiderable, or even absurd, but it's +evidently imminent, and no matter what it is, Mrs. Harman must be kept +out of it. I want you to see her as soon as you can and ask her from me-- +no, persuade her yourself--not to leave Quesnay for a day or two. I +mean, that she absolutely MUST NOT meet Mr. Saffren again until we know +what all this means. Will you do it?" + +"That I will!" And she began hastily to get her belongings in marching +order. "I'll do anything in the world you'll let me--and oh, I hope they +can't do anything to poor, poor Mr. Saffren!" + +"Our sporting friend had evidently seen him with Mrs. Harman to-day," I +said. "Do you know if they went to the beach again?" + +"I only know she meant to meet him--but she told me she'd be back at the +chateau by four. If I start now--" + +"Wasn't the phaeton to be sent to the inn for you?" + +"Not until six," she returned briskly, folding her easel and strapping +it to her camp-stool with precision. "Isn't it shorter by the woods?" + +"You've only to follow this path to the second crossing and then turn to +the right," I responded. "I shall hurry back to Madame Brossard's to see +Keredec--and here"--I extended my hand toward her traps, of which, in a +neatly practical fashion, she had made one close pack--"let me have your +things, and I'll take care of them at the inn for you. They're heavy, +and it's a long trudge." + +"You have your own to carry," she answered, swinging the strap over her +shoulder. "It's something of a walk for you, too." + +"No, no, let me have them," I protested, for the walk before her WAS +long and the things would be heavy indeed before it ended. + +"Go your ways," she laughed, and as my hand still remained extended she +grasped it with her own and gave it a warm and friendly shake. "Hurry!" +And with an optimism which took my breath, she said, "I know YOU can +make it come out all right! Besides, I'll help you!" + +With that she turned and started manfully upon her journey. I stared +after her for a moment or more, watching the pretty brown dress flashing +in and out of shadow among the ragged greeneries, shafts of sunshine now +and then flashing upon her hair. Then I picked up my own pack and set +out for the inn. + +Every one knows that the more serious and urgent the errand a man may be +upon, the more incongruous are apt to be the thoughts that skip into his +mind. As I went through the woods that day, breathless with haste and +curious fears, my brain became suddenly, unaccountably busy with a dream +I had had, two nights before. I had not recalled this dream on waking: +the recollection of it came to me now for the first time. It was a usual +enough dream, wandering and unlifelike, not worth the telling; and I had +been thinking so constantly of Mrs. Harman that there was nothing +extraordinary in her worthless ex-husband's being part of it. + +And yet, looking back upon that last, hurried walk of mine through the +forest, I see how strange it was that I could not quit remembering how +in my dream I had gone motoring up Mount Pilatus with the man I had seen +so pitiably demolished on the Versailles road, two years before-- +Larrabee Harman. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Keredec was alone in his salon, extended at ease upon a long chair, an +ottoman and a stool, when I burst in upon him; a portentous volume was +in his lap, and a prolific pipe, smoking up from his great cloud of +beard, gave the final reality to the likeness he thus presented of a +range of hills ending in a volcano. But he rolled the book cavalierly to +the floor, limbered up by sections to receive me, and offered me a +hearty welcome. + +"Ha, my dear sir," he cried, "you take pity on the lonely Keredec; you +make him a visit. I could not wish better for myself. We shall have a +good smoke and a good talk." + +"You are improved to-day?" I asked, it may be a little slyly. + +"Improve?" he repeated inquiringly. + +"Your rheumatism, I mean." + +"Ha, yes; that rheumatism!" he shouted, and throwing back his head, +rocked the room with sudden laughter. "Hew! But it is gone--almost! Oh, +I am much better, and soon I shall be able to go in the woods again with +my boy." He pushed a chair toward me. "Come, light your cigar; he will +not return for an hour perhaps, and there is plenty of time for the +smoke to blow away. So! It is better. Now we shall talk." + +"Yes," I said, "I wanted to talk with you." + +"That is a--what you call?--ha, yes, a coincidence," he returned, +stretching himself again in the long chair, "a happy coincidence; for I +have wished a talk with you; but you are away so early for all day, and +in the evening Oliver, he is always here." + +"I think what I wanted to talk about concerns him particularly." + +"Yes?" The professor leaned forward, looking at me gravely. "That is +another coincidence. But you shall speak first. Commence then." + +"I feel that you know me at least well enough," I began rather +hesitatingly, "to be sure that I would not, for the world, make any +effort to intrude in your affairs, or Mr. Saffren's, and that I would +not force your confidence in the remotest--" + +"No, no, no!" he interrupted. "Please do not fear I shall +misinterpretate whatever you will say. You are our friend. We know it." + +"Very well," I pursued; "then I speak with no fear of offending. When +you first came to the inn I couldn't help seeing that you took a great +many precautions for secrecy; and when you afterward explained these +precautions to me on the ground that you feared somebody might think Mr. +Saffren not quite sane, and that such an impression might injure him +later--well, I could not help seeing that your explanation did not cover +all the ground." + +"It is true--it did not." He ran his huge hand through the heavy white +waves of his hair, and shook his head vigorously. "No; I knew it, my +dear sir, I knew it well. But, what could I do? I would not have telled +my own mother! This much I can say to you: we came here at a risk, but I +thought that with great care it might be made little. And I thought a +great good thing might be accomplish if we should come here, something +so fine, so wonderful, that even if the danger had been great I would +have risked it. I will tell you a little more: I think that great thing +is BEING accomplish!" Here he rose to his feet excitedly and began to +pace the room as he talked, the ancient floor shaking with his tread. "I +think it is DONE! And ha! my dear sir, if it SHOULD be, this big Keredec +will not have lived in vain! It was a great task I undertake with my +young man, and the glory to see it finish is almost here. Even if the +danger should come, the THING is done, for all that is real and has true +meaning is inside the soul!" + +"It was in connection with the risk you have mentioned that I came to +talk," I returned with some emphasis, for I was convinced of the reality +of Mr. Earl Percy and also very certain that he had no existence inside +or outside a soul. "I think it necessary that you should know--" + +But the professor was launched. I might as well have swept the rising +tide with a broom. He talked with magnificent vehemence for twenty +minutes, his theme being some theory of his own that the individuality +of a soul is immortal, and that even in perfection, the soul cannot +possibly merge into any Nirvana. Meantime, I wondered how Mr. Percy was +employing his time, but after one or two ineffectual attempts to +interrupt, I gave myself to silence until the oration should be +concluded. + +"And so it is with my boy," he proclaimed, coming at last to the case in +hand. "The spirit of him, the real Oliver Saffren, THAT has NEVER +change! The outside of him, those thing that BELONG to him, like his +memory, THEY have change, but not himself, for himself is eternal and +unchangeable. I have taught him, yes; I have helped him get the small +things we can add to our possession--a little knowledge, maybe, a little +power of judgment. But, my dear sir, I tell you that such things are +ONLY possessions of a man. They are not the MAN! All that a man IS or +ever shall be, he is when he is a baby. So with Oliver; he had lived a +little while, twenty-six years, perhaps, when pft--like that!--he became +almost as a baby again. He could remember how to talk, but not much +more. He had lost his belongings--they were gone from the lobe of the +brain where he had stored them; but HE was not gone, no part of the real +HIMSELF was lacking. Then presently they send him to me to make new his +belongings, to restore his possessions. Ha, what a task! To take him +with nothing in the world of his own and see that he get only GOOD +possessions, GOOD knowledge, GOOD experience! I took him to the +mountains of the Tyrol--two years--and there his body became strong and +splendid while his brain was taking in the stores. It was quick, for his +brain had retained some habits; it was not a baby's brain, and some +small part of its old stores had not been lost. But if anything useless +or bad remain, we empty it out--I and those mountain' with their pure +air. Now, I say he is all good and the work was good; I am proud! But I +wish to restore ALL that was good in his life; your Keredec is something +of a poet.--You may put it: much the old fool! And for that greates' +restoration of all I have brought my boy back to France; since it was +necessary. It was a madness, and I thank the good God I was mad enough +to do it. I cannot tell you yet, my dear sir: but you shall see, you +shall see what the folly of that old Keredec has done! You shall see, +you shall--and I promise it--what a Paradise, when the good God helps, +an old fool's dream can make!" + +A half-light had broken upon me as he talked, pacing the floor, +thundering his paean of triumph, his Titanic gestures bruising the +harmless air. Only one explanation, incredible, but possible, sufficed. +Anything was possible, I thought--anything was probable--with this +dreamer whom the trump of Fame, executing a whimsical fantasia, +proclaimed a man of science! + +"By the wildest chance," I gasped, "you don't mean that you wanted him +to fall in love--" + +He had reached the other end of the room, but at this he whirled about +on me, his laughter rolling out again, till it might have been heard at +Pere Baudry's. + +"Ha, my dear sir, you have said it! But you knew it; you told him to +come to me and tell me." + +"But I mean that you--unless I utterly misunderstand--you seem to imply +that you had selected some one now in France whom you planned that he +should care for--that you had selected the lady whom you know as Madame +d'Armand." + +"Again," he shouted, "you have said it!" + +"Professor Keredec," I returned, with asperity, "I have no idea how you +came to conceive such a preposterous scheme, but I agree heartily that +the word for it is madness. In the first place, I must tell you that her +name is not even d'Armand--" + +"My dear sir, I know. It was the mistake of that absurd Amedee. She is +Mrs. Harman." + +"You knew it?" I cried, hopelessly confused. "But Oliver still speaks of +her as Madame d'Armand." + +"He does not know. She has not told him." + +"But why haven't you told him?" + +"Ha, that is a story, a poem," he cried, beginning to pace the floor +again--"a ballad as old as the oldest of Provence! There is a reason, my +dear sir, which I cannot tell you, but it lies within the romance of +what you agree is my madness. Some day, I hope, you shall understand and +applaud! In the meantime--" + +"In the meantime," I said sharply, as he paused for breath, "there is a +keen-faced young man who took a room in the inn this morning and who has +come to spy upon you, I believe." + +"What is it you say?" + +He came to a sudden stop. + +I had not meant to deliver my information quite so abruptly, but there +was no help for it now, and I repeated the statement, giving him a terse +account of my two encounters with the rattish youth, and adding: + +"He seemed to be certain that 'Oliver Saffren' is an assumed name, and +he made a threatening reference to the laws of France." + +The effect upon Keredec was a very distinct pallor. He faced me silently +until I had finished, then in a voice grown suddenly husky, asked: + +"Do you think he came back to the inn? Is he here now?" + +"I do not know." + +"We must learn; I must know that, at once." And he went to the door. + +"Let me go instead," I suggested. + +"It can't make little difference if he see me," said the professor, +swallowing with difficulty and displaying, as he turned to me, a look of +such profound anxiety that I was as sorry for him now as I had been +irritated a few minutes earlier by his galliard air-castles. "I do not +know this man, nor does he know me, but I have fear"--his beard moved as +though his chin were trembling--"I have fear that I know his employers. +Still, it may be better if you go. Bring somebody here that we can ask." + +"Shall I find Amedee?" + +"No, no, no! That babbler? Find Madame Brossard." + +I stepped out to the gallery, to discover Madame Brossard emerging from +a door on the opposite side of the courtyard; Amedee, Glouglou, and a +couple of carters deploying before her with some light trunks and bags, +which they were carrying into the passage she had just quitted. I +summoned her quietly; she came briskly up the steps and into the room, +and I closed the door. + +"Madame Brossard," said the professor, "you have a new client to-day." + +"That monsieur who arrived this morning," I suggested. + +"He was an American," said the hostess, knitting her dark brows--"but I +do not think that he was exactly a monsieur." + +"Bravo!" I murmured. "That sketches a likeness. It is this 'Percy' +without a doubt." + +"That is it," she returned. "Monsieur Poissy is the name he gave." + +"Is he at the inn now?" + +"No, monsieur, but two friends for whom he engaged apartments have just +arrived." + +"Who are they?" asked Keredec quickly. + +"It is a lady and a monsieur from Paris. But not married: they have +taken separate apartments and she has a domestic with her, a negress, +Algerian." + +"What are their names?" + +"It is not ten minutes that they are installed. They have not given me +their names." + +"What is the lady's appearance?" + +"Monsieur the Professor," replied the hostess demurely, "she is not +beautiful." + +"But what is she?" demanded Keredec impatiently; and it could be seen +that he was striving to control a rising agitation. "Is she blonde? Is +she brunette? Is she young? Is she old? Is she French, English, Spanish--" + +"I think," said Madame Brossard, "I think one would call her Spanish, +but she is very fat, not young, and with a great deal too much rouge--" + +She stopped with an audible intake of breath, staring at my friend's +white face. "Eh! it is bad news?" she cried. "And when one has been so +ill--" + +Keredec checked her with an imperious gesture. "Monsieur Saffren and I +leave at once," he said. "I shall meet him on the road; he will not +return to the inn. We go to--to Trouville. See that no one knows that we +have gone until to-morrow, if possible; I shall leave fees for the +servants with you. Go now, prepare your bill, and bring it to me at +once. I shall write you where to send our trunks. Quick! And you, my +friend"--he turned to me as Madame Brossard, obviously distressed and +frightened, but none the less intelligent for that, skurried away to do +his bidding--"my friend, will you help us? For we need it!" + +"Anything in the world!" + +"Go to Pere Baudry's; have him put the least tired of his three horses +to his lightest cart and wait in the road beyond the cottage. Stand in +the road yourself while that is being done. Oliver will come that way; +detain him. I will join you there; I have only to see to my papers--at +the most, twenty minutes. Go quickly, my friend!" + +I strode to the door and out to the gallery. I was half-way down the +steps before I saw that Oliver Saffren was already in the courtyard, +coming toward me from the archway with a light and buoyant step. + +He looked up, waving his hat to me, his face lighted with a happiness +most remarkable, and brighter, even, than the strong, midsummer sunshine +flaming over him. Dressed in white as he was, and with the air of +victory he wore, he might have been, at that moment, a figure from some +marble triumph; youthful, conquering--crowned with the laurel. + +I had time only to glance at him, to "take" him, as it were, between two +shutter-flicks of the instantaneous eyelid, and with him, the courtyard +flooded with sunshine, the figure of Madame Brossard emerging from her +little office, Amedee coming from the kitchen bearing a white-covered +tray, and, entering from the road, upon the trail of Saffren but still +in the shadow of the archway, the discordant fineries and hatchet-face +of the ex-pedestrian and tourist, my antagonist of the forest. + +I had opened my mouth to call a warning. + +"Hurry" was the word I would have said, but it stopped at "hur--." The +second syllable was never uttered. + +There came a violent outcry, raucous and shrill as the wail of a +captured hen, and out of the passage across the courtyard floundered a +woman, fantastically dressed in green and gold. + +Her coarse blue-black hair fell dishevelled upon her shoulders, from +which her gown hung precariously unfastened, as if she had abandoned her +toilet half-way. She was abundantly fat, double-chinned, coarse, greasy, +smeared with blue pencillings, carmine, enamel, and rouge. + +At the scream Saffren turned. She made straight at him, crying wildly: + +"Enfin! Mon mari, mon mari--c'est moi! C'est ta femme, mon coeur!" + +She threw herself upon him, her arms about his neck, with a tropical +ferocity that was a very paroxysm of triumph. + +"Embrasse moi, Larrabi! Embrasse moi!" she cried. + +Horrified, outraged, his eyes blazing, he flung her off with a violence +surpassing her own, and with loathing unspeakable. She screamed that he +was killing her, calling him "husband," and tried to fasten herself upon +him again. But he leaped backward beyond the reach of her clutching +hands, and, turning, plunged to the steps and staggered up them, the +woman following. + +From above me leaned the stricken face of Keredec; he caught Saffren +under the arm and half lifted him to the gallery, while she strove to +hold him by the knees. + +"O Christ!" gasped Saffren. "Is THIS the woman?" + +The giant swung him across the gallery and into the open door with one +great sweep of the arm, strode in after him, and closed and bolted the +door. The woman fell in a heap at the foot of the steps, uttered a +cracked simulation of the cry of a broken heart. + +"Name of a name of God!" she wailed. "After all these years! And my +husband strikes me!" + +Then it was that what had been in my mind as a monstrous suspicion +became a certainty. For I recognised the woman; she was Mariana--la +bella Mariana la Mursiana. + +If I had ever known Larrabee Harman, if, instead of the two strange +glimpses I had caught of him, I had been familiar with his gesture, +walk, intonation--even, perhaps, if I had ever heard his voice--the +truth might have come to me long ago. + +Larrabee Harman! + +"Oliver Saffren" was Larrabee Harman. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +I do not like to read those poets who write of pain as if they loved it; +the study of suffering is for the cold analyst, for the vivisectionist, +for those who may transfuse their knowledge of it to the ultimate good +of mankind. And although I am so heavily endowed with curiosity +concerning the people I find about me, my gift (or curse, whichever it +be) knows pause at the gates of the house of calamity. So, if it were +possible, I would not speak of the agony of which I was a witness that +night in the apartment of my friends at Madame Brossard's. I went with +reluctance, but there was no choice. Keredec had sent for me. + +... When I was about fifteen, a boy cousin of mine, several years +younger, terribly injured himself on the Fourth of July; and I sat all +night in the room with him, helping his mother. Somehow he had learned +that there was no hope of saving his sight; he was an imaginative child +and realised the whole meaning of the catastrophe; the eternal +darkness.... And he understood that the thing had been done, that there +was no going back of it. This very certainty increased the intensity of +his rebellion a thousandfold. "I WILL have my eyes!" he screamed. "I +WILL! I WILL!" + +Keredec had told his tragic ward too little. The latter had understood +but vaguely the nature of the catastrophe which overhung his return to +France, and now that it was indeed concrete and definite, the guardian +was forced into fuller disclosures, every word making the anguish of the +listener more intolerable. It was the horizonless despair of a child; +and that profound protest I had so often seen smouldering in his eyes +culminated, at its crisis, in a wild flame of revolt. The shame of the +revelation passed over him; there was nothing of the disastrous +drunkard, sober, learning what he had done. To him, it seemed that he +was being forced to suffer for the sins of another man. + +"Do you think that you can make me believe _I_ did this?" he cried. +"That I made life unbearable for HER, drove HER from me, and took this +hideous, painted old woman in HER place? It's a lie. You can't make me +believe such a monstrous lie as that! You CAN'T! You CAN'T!" + +He threw himself violently upon the couch, face downward, shuddering +from head to foot. + +"My poor boy, it is the truth," said Keredec, kneeling beside him and +putting a great arm across his shoulders. "It is what a thousand men are +doing this night. Nothing is more common, or more unexplainable--or more +simple. Of all the nations it is the same, wherever life has become +artificial and the poor, foolish young men have too much money and +nothing to do. You do not understand it, but our friend here, and I, we +understand because we remember what we have been seeing all our life. +You say it is not you who did such crazy, horrible things, and you are +right. When this poor woman who is so painted and greasy first caught +you, when you began to give your money and your time and your life to +her, when she got you into this horrible marriage with her, you were +blind--you went staggering, in a bad dream; your soul hid away, far down +inside you, with its hands over its face. If it could have once stood +straight, if the eyes of your body could have once been clean for it to +look through, if you could have once been as you are to-day, or as you +were when you were a little child, you would have cry out with horror +both of her and of yourself, as you do now; and you would have run away +from her and from everything you had put in your life. But, in your +suffering you must rejoice: the triumph is that your mind hates that old +life as greatly as your soul hates it. You are as good as if you had +never been the wild fellow--yes, the wicked fellow--that you were. For a +man who shakes off his sin is clean; he stands as pure as if he had +never sinned. But though his emancipation can be so perfect, there is a +law that he cannot escape from the result of all the bad and foolish +things he has done, for every act, every breath you draw, is immortal, +and each has a consequence that is never ending. And so, now, though you +are purified, the suffering from these old actions is here, and you must +abide it. Ah, but that is a little thing, nothing!--that suffering-- +compared to what you have gained, for you have gained your own soul!" + +The desperate young man on the couch answered only with the sobbing of a +broken-hearted child. + +I came back to my pavilion after midnight, but I did not sleep, though I +lay upon my bed until dawn. Then I went for a long, hard walk, +breakfasted at Dives, and begged a ride back to Madame Brossard's in a +peasant's cart which was going that way. + +I found George Ward waiting for me on the little veranda of the +pavilion, looking handsomer and more prosperously distinguished and +distinguishedly prosperous and generally well-conditioned than ever--as +I told him. + +"I have some news for you," he said after the hearty greeting--"an +announcement, in fact." + +"Wait!" I glanced at the interested attitude of Mr. Earl Percy, who was +breakfasting at a table significantly near the gallery steps, and led +the way into the pavilion. "You may as well not tell it in the hearing +of that young man," I said, when the door was closed. "He is eccentric." + +"So I gathered," returned Ward, smiling, "from his attire. But it really +wouldn't matter who heard it. Elizabeth's going to marry Cresson Ingle." + +"That is the news--the announcement--you spoke of?" + +"Yes, that is it." + +To save my life I could not have told at that moment what else I had +expected, or feared, that he might say, but certainly I took a deep +breath of relief. "I am very glad," I said. "It should be a happy +alliance." + +"On the whole, I think it will be," he returned thoughtfully. "Ingle's +done his share of hard living, and I once had a notion"--he glanced +smiling at me--"well, I dare say you know my notion. But it is a good +match for Elizabeth and not without advantages on many counts. You see, +it's time I married, myself; she feels that very strongly and I think +her decision to accept Ingle is partly due to her wish to make all clear +for a new mistress of my household,--though that's putting it in a +rather grandiloquent way." He laughed. "And as you probably guess, I +have an idea that some such arrangement might be somewhere on the wings +of the wind on its way to me, before long." + +He laughed again, but I did not, and noting my silence he turned upon me +a more scrutinising look than he had yet given me, and said: + +"My dear fellow, is something the matter? You look quite haggard. You +haven't been ill?" + +"No, I've had a bad night. That's all." + +"Oh, I heard something of a riotous scene taking place over here," he +said. "One of the gardeners was talking about it to Elizabeth. Your bad +night wouldn't be connected with that, would it? You haven't been +playing Samaritan?" + +"What was it you heard?" I asked quickly. + +"I didn't pay much attention. He said that there was great excitement at +Madame Brossard's, because a strange woman had turned up and claimed an +insane young man at the inn for her husband, and that they had a fight +of some sort--" + +"Damnation!" I started from my chair. "Did Mrs. Harman hear this story?" + +"Not last night, I'm certain. Elizabeth said the gardener told her as +she came down to the chateau gates to meet me when I arrived--it was +late, and Louise had already gone to her room. In fact, I have not seen +her yet. But what difference could it possibly make whether she heard it +or not? She doesn't know these people, surely?" + +"She knows the man." + +"This insane--" + +"He is not insane," I interrupted. "He has lost the memory of his +earlier life--lost it through an accident. You and I saw the accident." + +"That's impossible," said George, frowning. "I never saw but one +accident that you--" + +"That was the one: the man is Larrabee Harman." + +George had struck a match to light a cigar; but the operation remained +incomplete: he dropped the match upon the floor and set his foot upon +it. "Well, tell me about it," he said. + +"You haven't heard anything about him since the accident?" + +"Only that he did eventually recover and was taken away from the +hospital. I heard that his mind was impaired. Does Louise--" he began; +stopped, and cleared his throat. "Has Mrs. Harman heard that he is +here?" + +"Yes; she has seen him." + +"Do you mean the scoundrel has been bothering her? Elizabeth didn't tell +me of this--" + +"Your sister doesn't know," I said, lifting my hand to check him. "I +think you ought to understand the whole case--if you'll let me tell you +what I know about it." + +"Go ahead," he bade me. "I'll try to listen patiently, though the very +thought of the fellow has always set my teeth on edge." + +"He's not at all what you think," I said. "There's an enormous +difference, almost impossible to explain to you, but something you'd +understand at once if you saw him. It's such a difference, in fact, that +when I found that he was Larrabee Harman the revelation was +inexpressibly shocking and distressing to me. He came here under another +name; I had no suspicion that he was any one I'd ever heard of, much +less that I'd actually seen him twice, two years ago, and I've grown to-- +well, in truth, to be fond of him." + +"What is the change?" asked Ward, and his voice showed that he was +greatly disquieted. "What is he like?" + +"As well as I can tell you, he's like an odd but very engaging boy, with +something pathetic about him; quite splendidly handsome--" + +"Oh, he had good looks to spare when I first knew him," George said +bitterly. "I dare say he's got them back if he's taken care of himself, +or been taken care OF, rather! But go on; I won't interrupt you again. +Why did he come here? Hoping to see--" + +"No. When he came here he did not know of her existence except in the +vaguest way. But to go back to that, I'd better tell you first that the +woman we saw with him, one day on the boulevard, and who was in the +accident with him--" + +"La Mursiana, the dancer; I know." + +"She had got him to go through a marriage with her--" + +"WHAT?" Ward's eyes flashed as he shouted the word. + +"It seems inexplicable; but as I understand it, he was never quite sober +at that time; he had begun to use drugs, and was often in a half- +stupefied condition. As a matter of fact, the woman did what she pleased +with him. There's no doubt about the validity of the marriage. And what +makes it so desperate a muddle is that since the marriage she's taken +good care to give no grounds upon which a divorce could be obtained for +Harman. She means to hang on." + +"I'm glad of that!" said George, striking his knee with his open palm. +"That will go a great way toward--" + +He paused, and asked suddenly: "Did this marriage take place in France?" + +"Yes. You'd better hear me through," I remonstrated. "When he was taken +from the hospital, he was placed in charge of a Professor Keredec, a +madman of whom you've probably heard." + +"Madman? Why, no; he's a member of the Institute; a psychologist or +metaphysician, isn't he?--at any rate of considerable celebrity." + +"Nevertheless," I insisted grimly, "as misty a vapourer as I ever saw; a +poetic, self-contradicting and inconsistent orator, a blower of bubbles, +a seer of visions, a mystic, and a dreamer--about as scientific as +Alice's White Knight! Harman's aunt, who lived in London, the only +relative he had left, I believe--and she has died since--put him in +Keredec's charge, and he was taken up into the Tyrol and virtually +hidden for two years, the idea being literally to give him something +like an education--Keredec's phrase is 'restore mind to his soul'! What +must have been quite as vital was to get him out of his horrible wife's +clutches. And they did it, for she could not find him. But she picked up +that rat in the garden out yonder--he'd been some sort of stable-manager +for Harman once--and set him on the track. He ran the poor boy down, and +yesterday she followed him. Now it amounts to a species of sordid +siege." + +"She wants money, of course." + +"Yes, MORE money; a fair allowance has always been sent to her. Keredec +has interviewed her notary and she wants a settlement, naming a sum +actually larger than the whole estate amounts to. There were colossal +expenditures and equally large shrinkages; what he has left is invested +in English securities and is not a fortune, but of course she won't +believe that and refuses to budge until this impossible settlement is +made. You can imagine about how competent such a man as Keredec would be +to deal with the situation. In the mean time, his ward is in so dreadful +a state of horror and grief I am afraid it is possible that his mind may +really give way, for it was not in a normal condition, of course, though +he's perfectly sane, as I tell you. If it should," I concluded, with +some bitterness, "I suppose Keredec will be still prating upliftingly on +the saving of his soul!" + +"When was it that Louise saw him?" + +"Ah, that," I said, "is where Keredec has been a poet and a dreamer +indeed. It was his PLAN that they should meet." + +"You mean he brought this wreck of Harman, these husks and shreds of a +man, down here for Louise to see?" Ward cried incredulously. "Oh, +monstrous!" + +"No," I answered. "Only insane. Not because there is anything lacking in +Oliver--in Harman, I mean--for I think that will be righted in time, but +because the second marriage makes it a useless cruelty that he should +have been allowed to fall in love with his first wife again. Yet that +was Keredec's idea of a 'beautiful restoration,' as he calls it!" + +"There is something behind all this that you don't know," said Ward +slowly. "I'll tell you after I've seen this Keredec. When did the man +make you his confidant?" + +"Last night. Most of what I learned was as much a revelation to his +victim as it was to me. Harman did not know till then that the lady he +had been meeting had been his wife, or that he had ever seen her before +he came here. He had mistaken her name and she did not enlighten him." + +"Meeting?" said Ward harshly. "You speak as if--" + +"They have been meeting every day, George." + +"I won't believe it of her!" he cried. "She couldn't--" + +"It's true. He spoke to her in the woods one day; I was there and saw +it. I know now that she knew him at once; and she ran away, but--not in +anger. I shouldn't be a very good friend of yours," I went on gently, +"if I didn't give you the truth. They've been together every day since +then, and I'm afraid--miserably afraid, Ward--that her old feeling for +him has been revived." + +I have heard Ward use an oath only two or three times in my life, and +this was one of them. + +"Oh, by God!" he cried, starting to his feet; "I SHOULD like to meet +Professor Keredec!" + +"I am at your service, my dear sir," said a deep voice from the veranda. +And opening the door, the professor walked into the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +He looked old and tired and sad; it was plain that he expected attack +and equally plain that he would meet it with fanatic serenity. And yet, +the magnificent blunderer presented so fine an aspect of the tortured +Olympian, he confronted us with so vast a dignity--the driven snow of +his hair tousled upon his head and shoulders, like a storm in the higher +altitudes--that he regained, in my eyes, something of his mountain +grandeur before he had spoken a word in defence. But sympathy is not +what one should be entertaining for an antagonist; therefore I said +cavalierly: + +"This is Mr. Ward, Professor Keredec. He is Mrs. Harman's cousin and +close friend." + +"I had divined it." The professor made a French bow, and George +responded with as slight a salutation as it has been my lot to see. + +"We were speaking of your reasons," I continued, "for bringing Mr. +Harman to this place. Frankly, we were questioning your motive." + +"My motives? I have wished to restore to two young people the paradise +which they had lost". + +Ward uttered an exclamation none the less violent because it was half- +suppressed, while, for my part, I laughed outright; and as Keredec +turned his eyes questioningly upon me, I said: + +"Professor Keredec, you'd better understand at once that I mean to help +undo the harm you've done. I couldn't tell you last night, in Harman's +presence, but I think you're responsible for the whole ghastly tragi- +comedy--as hopeless a tangle as ever was made on this earth!" + +This was even more roughly spoken than I had intended, but it did not +cause him to look less mildly upon me, nor was there the faintest shadow +of resentment in his big voice when he replied: + +"In this world things may be tangled, they may be sad, yet they may be +good." + +"I'm afraid that seems rather a trite generality. I beg you to remember +that plain-speaking is of some importance just now." + +"I shall remember." + +"Then we should be glad of the explanation," said Ward, resting his arms +on my table and leaning across it toward Keredec. + +"We should, indeed," I echoed. + +"It is simple," began the professor. "I learned my poor boy's history +well, from those who could tell me, from his papers--yes, and from the +bundles of old-time letters which were given me--since it was necessary +that I should know everything. From all these I learned what a strong +and beautiful soul was that lady who loved him so much that she ran away +from her home for his sake. Helas! he was already the slave of what was +bad and foolish, he had gone too far from himself, was overlaid with the +habit of evil, and she could not save him then. The spirit was dying in +him, although it was there, and IT was good--" + +Ward's acrid laughter rang out in the room, and my admiration went +unwillingly to Keredec for the way he took it, which was to bow gravely, +as if acknowledging the other's right to his own point of view. + +"If you will study the antique busts," he said, "you will find that +Socrates is Silenus dignified. I choose to believe in the infinite +capacities of all men--and in the spirit in all. And so I try to restore +my poor boy his capacities and his spirit. But that was not all. The +time was coming when I could do no more for him, when the little +education of books would be finish' and he must go out in the world +again to learn--all newly--how to make of himself a man of use. That is +the time of danger, and the thought was troubling me when I learned that +Madame Harman was here, near this inn, of which I knew. So I brought +him." + +"The inconceivable selfishness, the devilish brutality of it!" Ward's +face was scarlet. "You didn't care how you sacrificed her--" + +"Sacrificed!" The professor suddenly released the huge volume of his +voice. "Sacrificed!" he thundered. "If I could give him back to her as +he is now, it would be restoring to her all that she had loved in him, +the real SELF of him! It would be the greatest gift in her life." + +"You speak for her?" demanded Ward, the question coming like a lawyer's. +It failed to disturb Keredec, who replied quietly: + +"It is a quibble. I speak for her, yes, my dear sir. Her action in +defiance of her family and her friends proved the strength of what she +felt for the man she married; that she have remained with him three +years--until it was impossible--proved its persistence; her letters, +which I read with reverence, proved its beauty--to me. It was a living +passion, one that could not die. To let them see each other again; that +was all I intended. To give them their new chance--and then, for myself, +to keep out of the way. That was why--" he turned to me--"that was why I +have been guilty of pretending to have that bad rheumatism, and I hope +you will not think it an ugly trick of me! It was to give him his chance +freely; and though at first I had much anxiety, it was done. In spite of +all his wicked follies theirs had been a true love, and nothing in this +world could be more inevitable than that they should come together again +if the chance could be given. And they HAVE, my dear sirs! It has so +happened. To him it has been a wooing as if for the first time; so she +has preferred it, keeping him to his mistake of her name. She feared +that if he knew that it was the same as his own he might ask questions +of me, and, you see, she did not know that I had made this little plan, +and was afraid--" + +"We are not questioning Mrs. Harman's motives," George interrupted +hotly, "but YOURS!" + +"Very well, my dear sir; that is all. I have explained them." + +"You have?" I interjected. "Then, my dear Keredec, either you are really +insane or I am! You knew that this poor, unfortunate devil of a Harman +was tied to that hyenic prowler yonder who means to fatten on him, and +will never release him; you knew that. Then why did you bring him down +here to fall in love with a woman he can never have? In pity's name, if +you didn't hope to half kill them both, what DID you mean?" + +"My dear fellow," interposed George quickly, "you underrate Professor +Keredec's shrewdness. His plans are not so simple as you think. He knows +that my cousin Louise never obtained a divorce from her husband." + +"What?" I said, not immediately comprehending his meaning. + +"I say, Mrs. Harman never obtained a divorce." + +"Are you delirious?" I gasped. + +"It's the truth; she never did." + +"I saw a notice of it at the time. 'A notice?' I saw a hundred!" + +"No. What you saw was that she had made an application for divorce. Her +family got her that far and then she revolted. The suit was dropped." + +"It is true, indeed," said Keredec. "The poor boy was on the other side +of the world, and he thought it was granted. He had been bad before, but +from that time he cared nothing what became of him. That was the reason +this Spanish woman--" + +I turned upon him sharply. "YOU knew it?" + +"It is a year that I have known it; when his estate was--" + +"Then why didn't you tell me last night?" + +"My dear sir, I could not in HIS presence, because it is one thing I +dare not let him know. This Spanish woman is so hideous, her claim upon +him is so horrible to him I could not hope to control him--he would +shout it out to her that she cannot call him husband. God knows what he +would do!" + +"Well, why shouldn't he shout it out to her?" + +"You do not understand," George interposed again, "that what Professor +Keredec risked for his 'poor boy,' in returning to France, was a trial +on the charge of bigamy!" + +The professor recoiled from the definite brutality. "My dear sir! It is +not possible that such a thing can happen." + +"I conceive it very likely to happen," said George, "unless you get him +out of the country before the lady now installed here as his wife +discovers the truth." + +"But she must not!" Keredec lifted both hands toward Ward appealingly; +they trembled, and his voice betrayed profound agitation. "She cannot! +She has never suspected such a thing; there is nothing that could MAKE +her suspect it!" + +"One particular thing would be my telling her," said Ward quietly. + +"Never!" cried the professor, stepping back from him. "You could not do +that!" + +"I not only could, but I will, unless you get him out of the country-- +and quickly!" + +"George!" I exclaimed, coming forward between them. "This won't do at +all. You can't--" + +"That's enough," he said, waving me back, and I saw that his hand was +shaking, too, like Keredec's. His face had grown very white; but he +controlled himself to speak with a coolness that made what he said +painfully convincing. "I know what you think," he went on, addressing +me, "but you're wrong. It isn't for myself. When I sailed for New York +in the spring I thought there was a chance that she would carry out the +action she begun four years ago and go through the form of ridding +herself of him definitely; that is, I thought there was some hope for +me; I believed there was until this morning. But I know better now. If +she's seen him again, and he's been anything except literally +unbearable, it's all over with ME. From the first, I never had a chance +against him; he was a hard rival, even when he'd become only a cruel +memory." His voice rose. "I've lived a sober, decent life, and I've +treated HER with gentleness and reverence since she was born, and HE'S +done nothing but make a stew-pan of his life and neglect and betray her +when he had her. Heaven knows why it is; it isn't because of anything +he's done or has, it's just because it's HIM, I suppose, but I know my +chance is gone for good! THAT leaves me free to act for her; no one can +accuse me of doing it for myself. And I swear she sha'n't go through +that slough of despond again while I have breath in my body!" + +"Steady, George!" I said. + +"Oh, I'm steady enough," he cried. "Professor Keredec shall be convinced +of it! My cousin is not going into the mire again; she shall be freed of +it for ever: I speak as her relative now, the representative of her +family and of those who care for her happiness and good. Now she SHALL +make the separation definite--and LEGAL! And let Professor Keredec get +his 'poor boy' out of the country. Let him do it quickly! I make it as a +condition of my not informing the woman yonder and her lawyer. And by my +hope of salvation I warn you--" + +"George, for pity's sake!" I shouted, throwing my arm about his +shoulders, for his voice had risen to a pitch of excitement and fury +that I feared must bring the whole place upon us. He caught himself up +suddenly, stared at me blankly for a moment, then sank into a chair with +a groan. As he did so I became aware of a sound that had been worrying +my subconsciousness for an indefinite length of time, and realised what +it was. Some one was knocking for admission. + +I crossed the room and opened the door. Miss Elizabeth stood there, red- +faced and flustered, and behind her stood Mr. Cresson Ingle, who looked +dubiously amused. + +"Ah--come in," I said awkwardly. "George is here. Let me present +Professor Keredec--" + +"'George is here!'" echoed Miss Elizabeth, interrupting, and paying no +attention whatever to an agitated bow on the part of the professor. "I +should say he WAS! They probably know THAT all the way to Trouville!" + +"We were discussing--" I began. + +"Ah, I know what you were discussing," she said impatiently. "Come in, +Cresson." She turned to Mr. Ingle, who was obviously reluctant. "It is a +family matter, and you'll have to go through with it now." + +"That reminds me," I said. "May I offer--" + +"Not now!" Miss Elizabeth cut short a rather embarrassed handshake which +her betrothed and I were exchanging. "I'm in a very nervous and +distressed state of mind, as I suppose we all are, for that matter. This +morning I learned the true situation over here; and I'm afraid Louise +has heard; at least she's not at Quesnay. I got into a panic for fear +she had come here, but thank heaven she does not seem to--Good gracious! +What's THAT?" + +It was the discordant voice of Mariana la Mursiana, crackling in +strident protest. My door was still open; I turned to look and saw her, +hot-faced, tousle-haired, insufficiently wrapped, striving to ascend the +gallery steps, but valiantly opposed by Madame Brossard, who stood in +the way. + +"But NO, madame," insisted Madame Brossard, excited but darkly +determined. "You cannot ascend. There is nothing on the upper floor of +this wing except the apartment of Professor Keredec." + +"Name of a dog!" shrilled the other. "It is my husband's apartment, I +tell you. Il y a une femme avec lui!" + +"It is Madame Harman who is there," said Keredec hoarsely in my ear. "I +came away and left them together." + +"Come," I said, and, letting the others think what they would, sprang +across the veranda, the professor beside me, and ran toward the two +women who were beginning to struggle with more than their tongues. I +leaped by them and up the steps, but Keredec thrust himself between our +hostess and her opponent, planting his great bulk on the lowest step. +Glancing hurriedly over my shoulder, I saw the Spanish woman strike him +furiously upon the breast with both hands, but I knew she would never +pass him. + +I entered the salon of the "Grande Suite," and closed the door quickly +behind me. + +Louise Harman was standing at the other end of the room; she wore the +pretty dress of white and lilac and the white hat. She looked cool and +beautiful and good, and there were tears in her eyes. To come into this +quiet chamber and see her so, after the hot sunshine and tawdry scene +below, was like leaving the shouting market-place for a shadowy chapel. + +Her husband was kneeling beside her; he held one of her hands in both +his, her other rested upon his head; and something in their attitudes +made me know I had come in upon their leave-taking. But from the face he +lifted toward her all trace of his tragedy had passed: the wonder and +worship written there left no room for anything else. + +"Mrs. Harman--" I began. + +"Yes?" she said. "I am coming." + +"But I don't want you to. I've come for fear you would, and you--you +must not," I stammered. "You must wait." + +"Why?" + +"It's necessary," I floundered. "There is a scene--" + +"I know," she said quietly. "THAT must be, of course." + +Harman rose, and she took both his hands, holding them against her +breast. + +"My dear," she said gently,--"my dearest, you must stay. Will you +promise not to pass that door, even, until you have word from me again?" + +"Yes," he answered huskily, "if you'll promise it SHALL come--some day?" + +"It shall, indeed. Be sure of it." + +I had turned away, but I heard the ghost of his voice whispering "good- +bye." Then she was beside me and opening the door. + +I tried to stay her. + +"Mrs. Harman," I urged, "I earnestly beg you--" + +"No," she answered, "this is better." + +She stepped out upon the gallery; I followed, and she closed the door. +Upon the veranda of my pavilion were my visitors from Quesnay, staring +up at us apprehensively; Madame Brossard and Keredec still held the foot +of the steps, but la Mursiana had abandoned the siege, and, accompanied +by Mr. Percy and Rameau, the black-bearded notary, who had joined her, +was crossing the garden toward her own apartment. + +At the sound of the closing door, she glanced over her shoulder, sent +forth a scream, and, whirling about, ran viciously for the steps, where +she was again blocked by the indomitable Keredec. + +"Ah, you foolish woman, I know who you are," she cried, stepping back +from him to shake a menacing hand at the quiet lady by my side. "You +want to get yourself into trouble! That man in the room up there has +been my husband these two years and more." + +"No, madame," said Louise Harman, "you are mistaken; he is my husband." + +"But you divorced him," vociferated the other wildly. "You divorced him +in America!" + +"No. You are mistaken," the quiet voice replied. "The suit was +withdrawn. He is still my husband." + +I heard the professor's groan of despair, but it was drowned in the wild +shriek of Mariana. "WHAT? You tell ME that? Ah, the miserable! If what +you say is true, he shall pay bitterly! He shall wish that he had died +by fire! What! You think he can marry ME, break my leg so that I cannot +dance again, ruin my career, and then go away with a pretty woman like +you and be happy? Aha, there are prisons in France for people who marry +two like that; I do not know what they do in YOUR barbaric country, but +they are decent people over here and they punish. He shall pay for it in +suffering--" her voice rose to an incredible and unbearable shriek--"and +you, YOU shall pay, too! You can't come stealing honest women's husbands +like that. You shall PAY!" + +I saw George Ward come running forward with his hand upraised in a +gesture of passionate warning, for Mrs. Harman, unnoticed by me--I was +watching the Spanish woman--had descended the steps and had passed +Keredec, walking straight to Mariana. I leaped down after her, my heart +in my throat, fearing a thousand things. + +"You must not talk like that," she said, not lifting her voice--yet +every one in the courtyard heard her distinctly. "You can do neither of +us any harm in the world." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +It is impossible to say what Mariana would have done had there been no +interference, for she had worked herself into one of those furies which +women of her type can attain when they feel the occasion demands it, a +paroxysm none the less dangerous because its foundation is histrionic. +But Rameau threw his arms about her; Mr. Percy came hastily to his +assistance, and Ward and I sprang in between her and the too-fearless +lady she strove to reach. Even at that, the finger-nails of Mariana's +right hand touched the pretty white hat--but only touched it and no +more. + +Rameau and the little spy managed to get their vociferating burden +across the courtyard and into her own door, where she suddenly subsided, +disappearing within the passage to her apartment in unexpected silence-- +indubitably a disappointment to the interested Amedee, to Glouglou, +Francois, and the whole personnel of the inn, who hastened to group +themselves about the door in attentive attitudes. + +"In heaven's name," gasped Miss Elizabeth, seizing her cousin by the +arm, "come into the pavilion. Here's the whole world looking at us!" + +"Professor Keredec--" Mrs. Harman began, resisting, and turning to the +professor appealingly. + +"Oh, let him come too!" said Miss Elizabeth desperately. "Nothing could +be worse than this!" + +She led the way back to the pavilion, and, refusing to consider a +proposal on the part of Mr. Ingle and myself to remain outside, entered +the room last, herself, producing an effect of "shooing" the rest of us +in; closed the door with surprising force, relapsed in a chair, and +burst into tears. + +"Not a soul at Quesnay," sobbed the mortified chatelaine--"not one but +will know this before dinner! They'll hear the whole thing within two +hours." + +"Isn't there any way of stopping that, at least?" Ward said to me. + +"None on earth, unless you go home at once and turn your visitors and +THEIR servants out of the house," I answered. + +"There is nothing they shouldn't know," said Mrs. Harman. + +George turned to her with a smile so bravely managed that I was proud of +him. "Oh, yes, there is," he said. "We're going to get you out of all +this." + +"All this?" she repeated. + +"All this MIRE!" he answered. "We're going to get you out of it and keep +you out of it, now, for good. I don't know whether your revelation to +the Spanish woman will make that easier or harder, but I do know that it +makes the mire deeper." + +"For whom?" + +"For Harman. But you sha'n't share it!" + +Her anxious eyes grew wider. "How have I made it deeper for him? Wasn't +it necessary that the poor woman should be told the truth?" + +"Professor Keredec seemed to think it important that she shouldn't." + +She turned to Keredec with a frightened gesture and an unintelligible +word of appeal, as if entreating him to deny what George had said. The +professor's beard was trembling; he looked haggard; an almost pitiable +apprehension hung upon his eyelids; but he came forward manfully. + +"Madame," he said, "you could never in your life do anything that would +make harm. You were right to speak, and I had short sight to fear, since +it was the truth." + +"But why did you fear it?" + +"It was because--" he began, and hesitated. + +"I must know the reason," she urged. "I must know just what I've done." + +"It was because," he repeated, running a nervous hand through his beard, +"because the knowledge would put us so utterly in this people's power. +Already they demand more than we could give them; now they can--" + +"They can do what?" she asked tremulously. + +His eyes rested gently on her blanched and stricken face. "Nothing, my +dear lady," he answered, swallowing painfully. "Nothing that will last. +I am an old man. I have seen and I have--I have thought. And I tell you +that only the real survives; evil actions are some phantoms that +disappear. They must not trouble us." + +"That is a high plane," George intervened, and he spoke without sarcasm. +"To put it roughly, these people have been asking more than the Harman +estate is worth; that was on the strength of the woman's claim as a +wife; but now they know she is not one, her position is immensely +strengthened, for she has only to go before the nearest Commissaire de +Police--" + +"Oh, no!" Mrs. Harman cried passionately. "I haven't done THAT! You +mustn't tell me I have. You MUSTN'T!" + +"Never!" he answered. "There could not be a greater lie than to say you +have done it. The responsibility is with the wretched and vicious boy +who brought the catastrophe upon himself. But don't you see that you've +got to keep out of it, that we've got to take you out of it?" + +"You can't! I'm part of it; better or worse, it's as much mine as his." + +"No, no!" cried Miss Elizabeth. "YOU mustn't tell us THAT!" Still +weeping, she sprang up and threw her arms about her brother. "It's too +horrible of you--" + +"It is what I must tell you," Mrs. Harman said. "My separation from my +husband is over. I shall be with him now for--" + +"I won't listen to you!" Miss Elizabeth lifted her wet face from +George's shoulder, and there was a note of deep anger in her voice. "You +don't know what you're talking about; you haven't the faintest idea of +what a hideous situation that creature has made for himself. Don't you +know that that awful woman was right, and there are laws in France? When +she finds she can't get out of him all she wants, do you think she's +going to let him off? I suppose she struck you as being quite the sort +who'd prove nobly magnanimous! Are you so blind you don't see exactly +what's going to happen? She'll ask twice as much now as she did before; +and the moment it's clear that she isn't going to get it, she'll call in +an agent of police. She'll get her money in a separate suit and send him +to prison to do it. The case against him is positive; there isn't a +shadow of hope for him. You talk of being with him; don't you see how +preposterous that is? Do you imagine they encourage family housekeeping +in French prisons?" + +"Oh, come, this won't do!" The speaker was Cresson Ingle, who stepped +forward, to my surprise; for he had been hovering in the background +wearing an expression of thorough discomfort. + +"You're going much too far," he said, touching his betrothed upon the +arm. "My dear Elizabeth, there is no use exaggerating; the case is +unpleasant enough just as it is." + +"In what have I exaggerated?" she demanded. + +"Why, I KNEW Larrabee Harman," he returned. "I knew him fairly well. I +went as far as Honolulu with him, when he and some of his heelers +started round the world; and I remember that papers were served on him +in San Francisco. Mrs. Harman had made her application; it was just +before he sailed. About a year and a half or two years later I met him +again, in Paris. He was in pretty bad shape; seemed hypnotised by this +Mariana and afraid as death of her; she could go into a tantrum that +would frighten him into anything. It was a joke--down along the line of +the all-night dancers and cafes--that she was going to marry him; and +some one told me afterward that she claimed to have brought it about. I +suppose it's true; but there is no question of his having married her in +good faith. He believed that the divorce had been granted; he'd offered +no opposition to it whatever. He was travelling continually, and I don't +think he knew much of what was going on, even right around him, most of +the time. He began with cognac and absinthe in the morning, you know. +For myself, I always supposed the suit had been carried through; so did +people generally, I think. He'll probably have to stand trial, and of +course he's technically guilty, but I don't believe he'd be convicted-- +though I must say it would have been a most devilish good thing for him +if he could have been got out of France before la Mursiana heard the +truth. Then he could have made terms with her safely at a distance-- +she'd have been powerless to injure him and would have precious soon +come to time and been glad to take whatever he'd give her. NOW, I +suppose, that's impossible, and they'll arrest him if he tries to budge. +But this talk of prison and all that is nonsense, my dear Elizabeth!" + +"You admit there is a chance of it!" she retorted. + +"I've said all I had to say," returned Mr. Ingle with a dubious laugh. +"And if you don't mind, I believe I'll wait for you outside, in the +machine. I want to look at the gear-box." + +He paused, as if in deference to possible opposition, and, none being +manifested, went hastily from the room with a sigh of relief, giving me, +as he carefully closed the door, a glance of profound commiseration over +his shoulder. + +Miss Elizabeth had taken her brother's hand, not with the effect of +clinging for sympathy; nor had her throwing her arms about him produced +that effect; one could as easily have imagined Brunhilda hiding her face +in a man's coat-lapels. George's sister wept, not weakly: she was on the +defensive, but not for herself. + +"Does the fact that he may possibly escape going to prison"--she +addressed her cousin--"make his position less scandalous, or can it make +the man himself less detestable?" + +Mrs. Harman looked at her steadily. There was a long and sorrowful +pause. + +"Nothing is changed," she said finally; her eyes still fixed gravely on +Miss Elizabeth's. + +At that, the other's face flamed up, and she uttered a half-choked +exclamation. "Oh," she cried--"you've fallen in love with playing the +martyr; it's SELF-love! You SEE yourself in the role! No one on earth +could make me believe you're in LOVE with this degraded imbecile--all +that's left of the wreck of a vicious life! It isn't that! It's because +you want to make a shining example of yourself; you want to get down on +your knees and wash off the vileness from this befouled creature; you +want--" + +"Madame!" Keredec interrupted tremendously, "you speak out of no +knowledge!" He leaned toward her across the table, which shook under the +weight of his arms. "There is no vileness; no one who is clean remains +befouled because of the things that are gone." + +"They do not?" She laughed hysterically, and for my part, I sighed in +despair--for there was no stopping him. + +"They do not, indeed! Do you know the relation of TIME to this little +life of ours? We have only the present moment; your consciousness of +that is your existence. Your knowledge of each present moment as it +passes--and it passes so swiftly that each word I speak now overlaps it-- +yet it is all we have. For all the rest, for what has gone by and what +is yet coming--THAT has no real existence; it is all a dream. It is not +ALIVE. It IS not! It IS--nothing! So the soul that stands clean and pure +to-day IS clean and pure--and that is all there is to say about that +soul!" + +"But a soul with evil tendencies," Ward began impatiently, "if one must +meet you on your own ground--" + +"Ha! my dear sir, those evil tendencies would be in the soiling +memories, and my boy is free from them." + +"He went toward all that was soiling before. Surely you can't pretend he +may not take that direction again?" + +"That," returned the professor quickly, "is his to choose. If this lady +can be with him now, he will choose right." + +"So!" cried Miss Elizabeth, "you offer her the role of a guide, do you? +First she is to be his companion through a trial for bigamy in a French +court, and, if he is acquitted, his nurse, teacher, and moral +preceptor?" She turned swiftly to her cousin. "That's YOUR conception of +a woman's mission?" + +"I haven't any mission," Mrs. Harman answered quietly. "I've never +thought about missions; I only know I belong to him; that's all I EVER +thought about it. I don't pretend to explain it, or make it seem +reasonable. And when I met him again, here, it was--it was--it was +proved to me." + +"Proved?" echoed Miss Elizabeth incredulously. + +"Yes; proved as certainly as the sun shining proves that it's day." + +"Will you tell us?" + +It was I who asked the question: I spoke involuntarily, but she did not +seem to think it strange that I should ask. + +"Oh, when I first met him," she said tremulously, "I was frightened; but +it was not he who frightened me--it was the rush of my own feeling. I +did not know what I felt, but I thought I might die, and he was so like +himself as I had first known him--but so changed, too; there was +something so wonderful about him, something that must make any stranger +feel sorry for him, and yet it is beautiful--" She stopped for a moment +and wiped her eyes, then went on bravely: "And the next day he came, and +waited for me--I should have come here for him if he hadn't--and I fell +in with the mistake he had made about my name. You see, he'd heard I was +called 'Madame d'Armand,' and I wanted him to keep on thinking that, for +I thought if he knew I was Mrs. Harman he might find out--" She paused, +her lip beginning to tremble. "Oh, don't you see why I didn't want him +to know? I didn't want him to suffer as he would--as he does now, poor +child!--but most of all I wanted--I wanted to see if he would fall in +love with me again! I kept him from knowing, because, if he thought I +was a stranger, and the same thing happened again--his caring for me, I +mean--" She had begun to weep now, freely and openly, but not from +grief. "Oh!" she cried, "don't you SEE how it's all proven to me?" + +"I see how it has deluded you!" said Miss Elizabeth vehemently. "I see +what a rose-light it has thrown about this creature; but it won't last, +thank God! any more than it did the other time. The thing is for you to +come to your senses before--" + +"Ah, my dear, I have come to them at last and for ever!" The words rang +full and strong, though she was white and shaking, and heavy tears +filled her eyes. "I know what I am doing now, if I never knew before!" + +"You never did know--" Miss Ward began, but George stopped her. + +"Elizabeth!" he said quickly. "We mustn't go on like this; it's more +than any of us can bear. Come, let's get out into the air; let's get +back to Quesnay. We'll have Ingle drive us around the longer way, by the +sea." He turned to his cousin. "Louise, you'll come now? If not, we'll +have to stay here with you." + +"I'll come," she answered, trying bravely to stop the tears that kept +rising in spite of her; "if you'll wait till"--and suddenly she flashed +through them a smile so charming that my heart ached the harder for +George--"till I can stop crying!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Mr. Earl Percy and I sat opposite each other at dinner that evening. +Perhaps, for charity's sake, I should add that though we faced each +other, and, indeed, eyed each other solemnly at intervals, we partook +not of the same repast, having each his own table; his being set in the +garden at his constant station near the gallery steps, and mine, some +fifty feet distant, upon my own veranda, but moved out from behind the +honeysuckle screen, for I sat alone and the night was warm. + +To analyse my impression of Mr. Percy's glances, I cannot +conscientiously record that I found favour in his eyes. For one thing, I +fear he may not have recalled to his bosom a clarion sentiment (which +doubtless he had ofttimes cheered from his native gallery in softer +years): the honourable declaration that many an honest heart beats +beneath a poor man's coat. As for his own attire, he was even as the +lilies of Quesnay; that is to say, I beheld upon him the same formation +of tie that I had seen there, the same sensuous beauty of the state +waistcoat, though I think that his buttons were, if anything, somewhat +spicier than those which had awed me at the chateau. And when we +simultaneously reached the fragrant hour of coffee, the cigarette case +that glittered in his hand was one for which some lady-friend of his (I +knew intuitively) must have given her All--and then been left in debt. + +Amedee had served us both; Glouglou, as aforetime, attending the silent +"Grande Suite," where the curtains were once more tightly drawn. +Monsieur Rameau dined with his client in her own salon, evidently; at +least, Victorine, the femme de chambre, passed to and from the kitchen +in that direction, bearing laden trays. When Mr. Percy's cigarette had +been lighted, hesitation marked the manner of our maitre d'hotel; +plainly he wavered, but finally old custom prevailed; abandoning the +cigarette, he chose the cigar, and, hastily clearing my fashionable +opponent's table, approached the pavilion with his most conversational +face. + +I greeted him indifferently, but with hidden pleasure, for my soul (if +Keredec is right and I have one) lay sorrowing. I needed relief, and +whatever else Amedee was, he was always that. I spoke first: + +"Amedee, how long a walk is it from Quesnay to Pere Baudry's?" + +"Monsieur, about three-quarters of an hour for a good walker, one might +say." + +"A long way for Jean Ferret to go for a cup of cider," I remarked +musingly. + +"Eh? But why should he?" asked Amedee blankly. + +"Why indeed? Surely even a Norman gardener lives for more than cider! +You usually meet him there about noon, I believe?" + +Methought he had the grace to blush, though there is an everlasting +doubt in my mind that it may have been the colour of the candle-shade +producing that illusion. It was a strange thing to see, at all events, +and, taking it for a physiological fact at the time, I let my willing +eyes linger upon it as long as it (or its appearance) was upon him. + +"You were a little earlier than usual to-day," I continued finally, full +of the marvel. + +"Monsieur?" He was wholly blank again. + +"Weren't you there about eleven? Didn't you go about two hours after Mr. +Ward and his friends left here?" + +He scratched his head. "I believe I had an errand in that direction. Eh? +Yes, I remember. Truly, I think it so happened." + +"And you found Jean Ferret there?" + +"Where, monsieur?" + +"At Pere Baudry's." + +"No, monsieur." + +"What?" I exclaimed. + +"No, monsieur." He was firm, somewhat reproachful. + +"You didn't see Jean Ferret this morning?" + +"Monsieur?" + +"Amedee!" + +"Eh, but I did not find him at Pere Baudry's! It may have happened that +I stopped there, but he did not come until some time after." + +"After you had gone away from Pere Baudry's, you mean?" + +"No, monsieur; after I arrived there. Truly." + +"Now we have it! And you gave him the news of all that had happened +here?" + +"Monsieur!" + +A world--no, a constellation, a universe!--of reproach was in the word. + +"I retract the accusation," I said promptly. "I meant something else." + +"Upon everything that takes place at our hotel here, I am silent to all +the world." + +"As the grave!" I said with enthusiasm. "Truly--that is a thing well +known. But Jean Ferret, then? He is not so discreet; I have suspected +that you are in his confidence. At times you have even hinted as much. +Can you tell me if he saw the automobile of Monsieur Ingle when it came +back to the chateau after leaving here?" + +"It had arrived the moment before he departed." + +"Quite SO! I understand," said I. + +"He related to me that Mademoiselle Ward had the appearance of +agitation, and Madame d'Armand that of pallor, which was also the case +with Monsieur Ward." + +"Therefore," I said, "Jean Ferret ran all the way to Pere Baudry's to +learn from you the reason for this agitation and this pallor?" + +"But, monsieur--" + +"I retract again!" I cut him off--to save time. "What other news had +he?" + +There came a gleam into his small, infolded eyes, a tiny glitter +reflecting the mellow candle-light, but changing it, in that reflection, +to a cold and sinister point of steel. It should have warned me, but, as +he paused, I repeated my question. + +"Monsieur, people say everything," he answered, frowning as if deploring +what they said in some secret, particular instance. "The world is full +of idle gossipers, tale-bearers, spreaders of scandal! And, though I +speak with perfect respect, all the people at the chateau are not +perfect in such ways." + +"Do you mean the domestics?" + +"The visitors!" + +"What do they say?" + +"Eh, well, then, they say--but no!" He contrived a masterly pretense of +pained reluctance. "I cannot--" + +"Speak out," I commanded, piqued by his shilly-shallying. "What do they +say?" + +"Monsieur, it is about"--he shifted his weight from one leg to the +other--"it is about--about that beautiful Mademoiselle Elliott who +sometimes comes here." + +This was so far from what I had expected that I was surprised into a +slight change of attitude, which all too plainly gratified him, though +he made an effort to conceal it. "Well," I said uneasily, "what do they +find to say of Mademoiselle Elliott?" + +"They say that her painting is only a ruse to see monsieur." + +"To see Monsieur Saffren, yes." + +"But, no!" he cried. "That is not--" + +"Yes, it is," I assured him calmly. "As you know, Monsieur Saffren is +very, very handsome, and Mademoiselle Elliott, being a painter, is +naturally anxious to look at him from time to time." + +"You are sure?" he said wistfully, even plaintively. "That is not the +meaning Jean Ferret put upon it." + +"He was mistaken." + +"It may be, it may be," he returned, greatly crestfallen, picking up his +tray and preparing to go. "But Jean Ferret was very positive." + +"And I am even more so!" + +"Then that malicious maid of Mademoiselle Ward's was mistaken also," he +sighed, "when she said that now a marriage is to take place between +Mademoiselle Ward and Monsieur Ingle--" + +"Proceed," I bade him. + +He moved a few feet nearer the kitchen. "The malicious woman said to +Jean Ferret--" He paused and coughed. "It was in reference to those +Italian jewels monsieur used to send--" + +"What about them?" I asked ominously. + +"The woman says that Mademoiselle Ward--" he increased the distance +between us--"that now she should give them to Mademoiselle Elliott! GOOD +night, monsieur!" + +His entrance into the kitchen was precipitate. I sank down again into +the wicker chair (from which I had hastily risen) and contemplated the +stars. But the short reverie into which I then fell was interrupted by +Mr. Percy, who, sauntering leisurely about the garden, paused to address +me. + +"You folks thinks you was all to the gud, gittin' them trunks off, +what?" + +"You speak in mysterious numbers," I returned, having no comprehension +of his meaning. + +"I suppose you don' know nothin' about it," he laughed satirically. "You +didn' go over to Lisieux 'saft'noon to ship 'em? Oh, no, not YOU!" + +"I went for a long walk this afternoon, Mr. Percy. Naturally, I couldn't +have walked so far as Lisieux and back." + +"Luk here, m'friend," he said sharply--"I reco'nise 'at you're tryin' t' +play your own hand, but I ast you as man to man: DO you think you got +any chanst t' git that feller off t' Paris?" + +"DO you think it will rain to-night?" I inquired. + +The light of a reflecting lamp which hung on the wall near the archway +enabled me to perceive a bitter frown upon his forehead. "When a +gen'leman asts a question AS a gen'leman," he said, his voice expressing +a noble pathos, "I can't see no call for no other gen'leman to go an' +play the smart Aleck and not answer him." + +In simple dignity he turned his back upon me and strolled to the other +end of the courtyard, leaving me to the renewal of my reverie. + +It was not a happy one. My friends--old and new--I saw inextricably +caught in a tangle of cross-purposes, miserably and hopelessly involved +in a situation for which I could predict no possible relief. I was able +to understand now the beauty as well as the madness of Keredec's plan; +and I had told him so (after the departure of the Quesnay party), asking +his pardon for my brusquerie of the morning. But the towering edifice +his hopes had erected was now tumbled about his ears: he had failed to +elude the Mursiana. There could be no doubt of her absolute control of +the situation. THAT was evident in the every step of the youth now +confidently parading before me. + +Following his active stride with my eye, I observed him in the act of +saluting, with a gracious nod of his bare head, some one, invisible to +me, who was approaching from the road. Immediately after--and altogether +with the air of a person merely "happening in"--a slight figure, clad in +a long coat, a short skirt, and a broad-brimmed, veil-bound brown hat, +sauntered casually through the archway and came into full view in the +light of the reflector. + +I sprang to my feet and started toward her, uttering an exclamation +which I was unable to stifle, though I tried to. + +"Good evening, Mr. Percy," she said cheerily. "It's the most EXUBERANT +night. YOU'RE quite hearty, I hope?" + +"Takin' a walk, I see, little lady," he observed with genial patronage. + +"Oh, not just for that," she returned. "It's more to see HIM." She +nodded to me, and, as I reached her, carelessly gave me her left hand. +"You know I'm studying with him," she continued to Mr. Percy, exhibiting +a sketch-book under her arm. "I dropped over to get a criticism." + +"Oh, drawin'-lessons?" said Mr. Percy tolerantly. "Well, don' lemme +interrup' ye." + +He moved as if to withdraw toward the steps, but she detained him with a +question. "You're spending the rest of the summer here?" + +"That depends," he answered tersely. + +"I hear you have some PASSIONATELY interesting friends." + +"Where did you hear that?" + +"Ah, don't you know?" she responded commiseratingly. "This is the most +scandalously gossipy neighbourhood in France. My DEAR young man, every +one from here to Timbuctu knows all about it by this time!" + +"All about what?" + +"About the excitement you're such a VALUABLE part of; about your +wonderful Spanish friend and how she claims the strange young man here +for her husband." + +"They'll know more'n that, I expec'," he returned with a side glance at +me, "before VERY long." + +"Every one thinks _I_ am so interesting," she rattled on artlessly, +"because I happened to meet YOU in the woods. I've held quite a levee +all day. In a reflected way it makes a heroine of me, you see, because +you are one of the very MOST prominent figures in it all. I hope you +won't think I've been too bold," she pursued anxiously, "in claiming +that I really am one of your acquaintances?" + +"That'll be all right," he politely assured her. + +"I am so glad." Her laughter rang out gaily. "Because I've been talking +about you as if we were the OLDEST friends, and I'd hate to have them +find me out. I've told them everything--about your appearance you see, +and how your hair was parted, and how you were dressed, and--" + +"Luk here," he interrupted, suddenly discharging his Bowery laugh, "did +you tell 'em how HE was dressed?" He pointed a jocular finger at me. +"That WUD 'a' made a hit!" + +"No; we weren't talking of him." + +"Why not? He's in it, too. Bullieve me, he THINKS he is!" + +"In the excitement, you mean?" + +"Right!" said Mr. Percy amiably. "He goes round holdin' Rip Van Winkle +Keredec's hand when the ole man's cryin'; helpin' him sneak his trunks +off t' Paris--playin' the hired man gener'ly. Oh, he thinks he's quite +the boy, in this trouble!" + +"I'm afraid it's a small part," she returned, "compared to yours." + +"Oh, I hold my end up, I guess." + +"I should think you'd be so worn out and sleepy you couldn't hold your +head up!" + +"Who? ME? Not t'-night, m'little friend. I tuk MY sleep's aft'noon and +let Rameau do the Sherlock a little while." + +She gazed upon him with unconcealed admiration. "You are wonderful," she +sighed faintly, and "WONDERFUL!" she breathed again. "How prosaic are +drawing-lessons," she continued, touching my arm and moving with me +toward the pavilion, "after listening to a man of action like that!" + +Mr. Percy, establishing himself comfortably in a garden chair at the +foot of the gallery steps, was heard to utter a short cough as he +renewed the light of his cigarette. + +My visitor paused upon my veranda, humming, "Quand l'Amour Meurt" while +I went within and lit a lamp. "Shall I bring the light out there?" I +asked, but, turning, found that she was already in the room. + +"The sketch-book is my duenna," she said, sinking into a chair upon one +side of the centre table, upon which I placed the lamp. "Lessons are +unquestionable, at any place or time. Behold the beautiful posies!" She +spread the book open on the table between us, as I seated myself +opposite her, revealing some antique coloured smudges of flowers. +"Elegancies of Eighteen-Forty! Isn't that a survival of the period when +young ladies had 'accomplishments,' though! I found it at the chateau +and--" + +"Never mind," I said. "Don't you know that you can't ramble over the +country alone at this time of night?" + +"If you speak any louder," she said, with some urgency of manner, +"you'll be 'hopelessly compromised socially,' as Mrs. Alderman McGinnis +and the Duchess of Gwythyl-Corners say"--she directed my glance, by one +of her own, through the open door to Mr. Percy--"because HE'LL hear you +and know that the sketch-book was only a shallow pretext of mine to see +you. Do be a little manfully self-contained, or you'll get us talked +about! And as for 'this time of night,' I believe it's almost half past +nine." + +"Does Miss Ward know--" + +"Do you think it likely? One of the most convenient things about a +chateau is the number of ways to get out of it without being seen. I had +a choice of eight. So I 'suffered fearfully from neuralgia,' dined in my +own room, and sped through the woods to my honest forester." She nodded +brightly. "That's YOU!" + +"You weren't afraid to come through the woods alone?" I asked, +uncomfortably conscious that her gaiety met a dull response from me. + +"No." + +"But if Miss Ward finds that you're not at the chateau--" + +"She won't; she thinks I'm asleep. She brought me up a sleeping-powder +herself." + +"She thinks you took it?" + +"She KNOWS I did," said Miss Elliott. "I'm full of it! And that will be +the reason--if you notice that I'm particularly nervous or excited." + +"You seem all of that," I said, looking at her eyes, which were very +wide and very brilliant. "However, I believe you always do." + +"Ah!" she smiled. "I knew you thought me atrocious from the first. You +find MYRIADS of objections to me, don't you?" + +I had forgotten to look away from her eyes, and I kept on forgetting. +(The same thing had happened several times lately; and each time, by a +somewhat painful coincidence, I remembered my age at precisely the +instant I remembered to look away.) "Dazzling" is a good old-fashioned +word for eyes like hers; at least it might define their effect on me. + +"If I did manage to object to you," I said slowly, "it would be a good +thing for me--wouldn't it?" + +"Oh, I've WON!" she cried. + +"Won?" I echoed. + +"Yes. I laid a wager with myself that I'd have a pretty speech from you +before I went out of your life"--she checked a laugh, and concluded +thrillingly--"forever! I leave Quesnay to-morrow!" + +"Your father has returned from America?" + +"Oh dear, no," she murmured. "I'll be quite at the world's mercy. I must +go up to Paris and retire from public life until he does come. I shall +take the vows--in some obscure but respectable pension." + +"You can't endure the life at the chateau any longer?" + +"It won't endure ME any longer. If I shouldn't go to-morrow I'd be put +out, I think--after to-night!" + +"But you intimated that no one would know about to-night!" + +"The night isn't over yet," she replied enigmatically. + +"It almost is--for you," I said; "because in ten minutes I shall take +you back to the chateau gates." + +She offered no comment on this prophecy, but gazed at me thoughtfully +and seriously for several moments. "I suppose you can imagine," she +said, in a tone that threatened to become tremulous, "what sort of an +afternoon we've been having up there?" + +"Has it been--" I began. + +"Oh, heart-breaking! Louise came to my room as soon as they got back +from here, this morning, and told me the whole pitiful story. But they +didn't let her stay there long, poor woman!" + +"They?" I asked. + +"Oh, Elizabeth and her brother. They've been at her all afternoon--off +and on." + +"To do what?" + +"To 'save herself,' so they call it. They're insisting that she must not +see her poor husband again. They're DETERMINED she sha'n't." + +"But George wouldn't worry her," I objected. + +"Oh, wouldn't he?" The girl laughed sadly. "I don't suppose he could +help it, he's in such a state himself, but between him and Elizabeth +it's hard to see how poor Mrs. Harman lived through the day." + +"Well," I said slowly, "I don't see that they're not right. She ought to +be kept out of all this as much as possible; and if her husband has to +go through a trial--" + +"I want you to tell me something," Miss Elliott interrupted. "How much +do you like Mr. Ward?" + +"He's an old friend. I suppose I like my old friends in about the same +way that other people like theirs." + +"How much do you like Mr. Saffren--I mean Mr. Harman?" + +"Oh, THAT!" I groaned. "If I could still call him 'Oliver Saffren,' if I +could still think of him as 'Oliver Saffren,' it would be easy to +answer. I never was so 'drawn' to a man in my life before. But when I +think of him as Larrabee Harman, I am full of misgivings." + +"Louise isn't," she put in eagerly, and with something oddly like the +manner of argument. "His wife isn't!" + +"Oh, I know. Perhaps one reason is that she never saw him at quite his +worst. I did. I had only two glimpses of him--of the briefest--but they +inspired me with such a depth of dislike that I can't tell you how +painful it was to discover that 'Oliver Saffren'--this strange, +pathetic, attractive FRIEND of mine--is the same man." + +"Oh, but he isn't!" she exclaimed quickly. + +"Keredec says he is," I laughed helplessly. + +"So does Louise," returned Miss Elliott, disdaining consistency in her +eagerness. "And she's right--and she cares more for him than she ever +did!" + +"I suppose she does." + +"Are you--" the girl began, then stopped for a moment, looking at me +steadily. "Aren't you a little in love with her?" + +"Yes," I answered honestly. "Aren't you?" + +"THAT'S what I wanted to know!" she said; and as she turned a page in +the sketch-book for the benefit of Mr. Percy, I saw that her hand had +begun to tremble. + +"Why?" I asked, leaning toward her across the table. + +"Because, if she were involved in some undertaking--something that, if +it went wrong, would endanger her happiness and, I think, even her life-- +for it might actually kill her if she failed, and brought on a worse +catastrophe--" + +"Yes?" I said anxiously, as she paused again. + +"You'd help her?" she said. + +"I would indeed," I assented earnestly. "I told her once I'd do anything +in the world for her." + +"Even if it involved something that George Ward might never forgive you +for?" + +"I said, 'anything in the world,'" I returned, perhaps a little huskily. +"I meant all of that. If there is anything she wants me to do, I shall +do it." + +She gave a low cry of triumph, but immediately checked it. Then she +leaned far over the table, her face close above the book, and, tracing +the outline of an uncertain lily with her small, brown-gloved +forefinger, as though she were consulting me on the drawing, "I wasn't +afraid to come through the woods alone," she said, in a very low voice, +"because I wasn't alone. Louise came with me." + +"What?" I gasped. "Where is she?" + +"At the Baudry cottage down the road. They won't miss her at the chateau +until morning; I locked her door on the outside, and if they go to +bother her again--though I don't think they will--they'll believe she's +fastened it on the inside and is asleep. She managed to get a note to +Keredec late this afternoon; it explained everything, and he had some +trunks carried out the rear gate of the inn and carted over to Lisieux +to be shipped to Paris from there. It is to be supposed--or hoped, at +least--that this woman and her people will believe THAT means Professor +Keredec and Mr. Harman will try to get to Paris in the same way." + +"So," I said, "that's what Percy meant about the trunks. I didn't +understand." + +"He's on watch, you see," she continued, turning a page to another +drawing. "He means to sit up all night, or he wouldn't have slept this +afternoon. He's not precisely the kind to be in the habit of afternoon +naps--Mr. Percy!" She laughed nervously. "That's why it's almost +absolutely necessary for us to have you. If we have--the thing is so +simple that it's certain." + +"If you have me for what?" I asked. + +"If you'll help"--and, as she looked up, her eyes, now very close to +mine, were dazzling indeed--"I'll adore you for ever and ever! Oh, MUCH +longer than you'd like me to!" + +"You mean she's going to--" + +"I mean that she's going to run away with him again," she whispered. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +At midnight there was no mistaking the palpable uneasiness with which +Mr. Percy, faithful sentry, regarded the behaviour of Miss Elliott and +myself as we sat conversing upon the veranda of the pavilion. It was not +fear for the security of his prisoner which troubled him, but the +unseemliness of the young woman's persistence in remaining to this hour +under an espionage no more matronly than that of a sketch-book abandoned +on the table when we had come out to the open. The youth had veiled his +splendours with more splendour: a long overcoat of so glorious a plaid +it paled the planets above us; and he wandered restlessly about the +garden in this refulgence, glancing at us now and then with what, in +spite of the insufficient revelation of the starlight, we both +recognised as a chilling disapproval. The lights of the inn were all +out; the courtyard was dark. The Spanish woman and Monsieur Rameau had +made their appearance for a moment, half an hour earlier, to exchange a +word with their fellow vigilant, and, soon after, the extinguishing of +the lamps in their respective apartments denoted their retirement for +the night. In the "Grande Suite" all had been dark and silent for an +hour. About the whole place the only sign of life, aside from those +signs furnished by our three selves, was a rhythmical sound from an open +window near the kitchen, where incontrovertibly slumbered our maitre +d'hotel after the cares of the day. + +Upon the occasion of our forest meeting Mr. Percy had signified his +desire to hear some talk of Art. I think he had his fill to-night--and +more; for that was the subject chosen by my dashing companion, and +vivaciously exploited until our awaited hour was at hand. Heaven knows +what nonsense I prattled, I do not; I do not think I knew at the time. I +talked mechanically, trying hard not to betray my increasing excitement. + +Under cover of this traduction of the Muse I served, I kept going over +and over the details of Louise Harman's plan, as the girl beside me had +outlined it, bending above the smudgy sketch-book. "To make them think +the flight is for Paris," she had urged, "to Paris by way of Lisieux. To +make that man yonder believe that it is toward Lisieux, while they turn +at the crossroads, and drive across the country to Trouville for the +morning boat to Havre." + +It was simple; that was its great virtue. If they were well started, +they were safe; and well started meant only that Larrabee Harman should +leave the inn without an alarm, for an alarm sounded too soon meant +"racing and chasing on Canoby Lea," before they could get out of the +immediate neighbourhood. But with two hours' start, and the pursuit +spending most of its energy in the wrong direction--that is, toward +Lisieux and Paris--they would be on the deck of the French-Canadian +liner to-morrow noon, sailing out of the harbour of Le Havre, with +nothing but the Atlantic Ocean between them and the St. Lawrence. + +I thought of the woman who dared this flight for her lover, of the woman +who came full-armed between him and the world, a Valkyr winging down to +bear him away to a heaven she would make for him herself. Gentle as she +was, there must have been a Valkyr in her somewhere, or she could not +attempt this. She swept in, not only between him and the world, but +between him and the destroying demons his own sins had raised to beset +him. There, I thought, was a whole love; or there she was not only wife +but mother to him. + +And I remembered the dream of her I had before I ever saw her, on that +first night after I came down to Normandy, when Amedee's talk of "Madame +d'Armand" had brought her into my thoughts. I remembered that I had +dreamed of finding her statue, but it was veiled and I could not uncover +it. And to-night it seemed to me that the veil had lifted, and the +statue was a figure of Mercy in the beautiful likeness of Louise Harman. +Then Keredec was wrong, optimist as he was, since a will such as hers +could save him she loved, even from his own acts. + +"And when you come to Monticelli's first style--" Miss Elliott's voice +rose a little, and I caught the sound of a new thrill vibrating in it-- +"you find a hundred others of his epoch doing it quite as well, not a +BIT of a bit less commonplace--" + +She broke off suddenly, and looking up, as I had fifty times in the last +twenty minutes, I saw that a light shone from Keredec's window. + +"I dare say they ARE commonplace," I remarked, rising. "But now, if you +will permit me, I'll offer you my escort back to Quesnay." + +I went into my room, put on my cap, lit a lantern, and returned with it +to the veranda. "If you are ready?" I said. + +"Oh, quite," she answered, and we crossed the garden as far as the +steps. + +Mr. Percy signified his approval. + +"Gunna see the little lady home, are you?" he said graciously. "I was +THINKIN' it was about time, m'self!" + +The salon door of the "Grand Suite" opened, above me, and at the sound, +the youth started, springing back to see what it portended, but I ran +quickly up the steps. Keredec stood in the doorway, bare-headed and in +his shirt-sleeves; in one hand he held a travelling-bag, which he +immediately gave me, setting his other for a second upon my shoulder. + +"Thank you, my good, good friend," he said with an emotion in his big +voice which made me glad of what I was doing. He went back into the +room, closing the door, and I descended the steps as rapidly as I had +run up them. Without pausing, I started for the rear of the courtyard, +Miss Elliott accompanying me. + +The sentry had watched these proceedings open-mouthed, more mystified +than alarmed. "Luk here," he said, "I want t' know whut this means." + +"Anything you choose to think it means," I laughed, beginning to walk a +little more rapidly. He glanced up at the windows of the "Grande Suite," +which were again dark, and began to follow us slowly. "What you gut in +that grip?" he asked. + +"You don't think we're carrying off Mr. Harman?" + +"I reckon HE'S in his room all right," said the youth grimly; "unless +he's FLEW out. But I want t' know what you think y're doin'?" + +"Just now," I replied, "I'm opening this door." + +This was a fact he could not question. We emerged at the foot of a lane +behind the inn; it was long and narrow, bordered by stone walls, and at +the other end debouched upon a road which passed the rear of the Baudry +cottage. + +Miss Elliott took my arm, and we entered the lane. + +Mr. Percy paused undecidedly. "I want t' know whut you think y're +doin'?" he repeated angrily, calling after us. + +"It's very simple," I called in turn. "Can't I do an errand for a +friend? Can't I even carry his travelling-bag for him, without going +into explanations to everybody I happen to meet? And," I added, +permitting some anxiety to be marked in my voice, "I think you may as +well go back. We're not going far enough to need a guard." + +Mr. Percy allowed an oath to escape him, and we heard him muttering to +himself. Then his foot-steps sounded behind us. + +"He's coming!" Miss Elliott whispered, with nervous exultation, looking +over her shoulder. "He's going to follow." + +"He was sure to," said I. + +We trudged briskly on, followed at some fifty paces by the perturbed +watchman. Presently I heard my companion utter a sigh so profound that +it was a whispered moan. + +"What is it?" I murmured. + +"Oh, it's the thought of Quesnay and to-morrow; facing them with THIS!" +she quavered. "Louise has written a letter for me to give them, but I'll +have to tell them--" + +"Not alone," I whispered. "I'll be there when you come down from your +room in the morning." + +We were embarked upon a singular adventure, not unattended by a certain +danger; we were tingling with a hundred apprehensions, occupied with the +vital necessity of drawing the little spy after us--and that was a +strange moment for a man (and an elderly painter-man of no mark, at +that!) to hear himself called what I was called then, in a tremulous +whisper close to my ear. Of course she has denied it since; +nevertheless, she said it--twice, for I pretended not to hear her the +first time. I made no answer, for something in the word she called me, +and in her seeming to mean it, made me choke up so that I could not even +whisper; but I made up my mind that, after THAT if this girl saw Mr. +Earl Percy on his way back to the inn before she wished him to go, it +would be because he had killed me. + +We were near the end of the lane when the neigh of a horse sounded +sonorously from the road beyond. + +Mr. Percy came running up swiftly and darted by us. + +"Who's that?" he called loudly. "Who's that in the cart yonder?" + +I set my lantern on the ground close to the wall, and at the same moment +a horse and cart drew up on the road at the end of the lane, showing +against the starlight. It was Pere Baudry's best horse, a stout gray, +that would easily enough make Trouville by daylight. A woman's figure +and a man's (the latter that of Pere Baudry himself) could be made out +dimly on the seat of the cart. + +"Who is it, I say?" shouted our excited friend. "What kind of a game +d'ye think y're puttin' up on me here?" + +He set his hand on the side of the cart and sprang upon the hub of the +wheel. A glance at the occupants satisfied him. + +"Mrs. Harman!" he yelled. "Mrs. Harman!" He leaped down into the road. +"I knowed I was a fool to come away without wakin' up Rameau. But you +haven't beat us yet!" + +He drove back into the lane, but just inside its entrance I met him. + +"Where are you going?" I asked. + +"Back to the pigeon-house in a hurry. There's devilment here, and I want +Rameau. Git out o' my way!" + +"You're not going back," said I. + +"The hell I ain't!" said Mr. Percy. "I give ye two seconds t' git out o' +my--TAKE YER HANDS OFFA ME!" + +I made sure of my grip, not upon the refulgent overcoat, for I feared he +might slip out of that, but upon the collars of his coat and waistcoat, +which I clenched together in my right hand. I knew that he was quick, +and I suspected that he was "scientific," but I did it before he had +finished talking, and so made fast, with my mind and heart and soul set +upon sticking to him. + +My suspicions as to his "science" were perfervidly justified. "You long- +legged devil!" he yelled, and I instantly received a series of +concussions upon the face and head which put me in supreme doubt of my +surroundings, for I seemed to have plunged, eyes foremost, into the +Milky Way. But I had my left arm around his neck, which probably saved +me from a coup de grace, as he was forced to pommel me at half-length. +Pommel it was; to use so gentle a word for what to me was crash, bang, +smash, battle, murder, earthquake and tornado. I was conscious of some +one screaming, and it seemed a consoling part of my delirium that the +cheek of Miss Anne Elliott should be jammed tight against mine through +one phase of the explosion. My arms were wrenched, my fingers twisted +and tortured, and, when it was all too clear to me that I could not +possibly bear one added iota of physical pain, the ingenious fiend began +to kick my shins and knees with feet like crowbars. + +Conflict of any sort was never my vocation. I had not been an accessory- +during-the-fact to a fight since I passed the truculent age of fourteen; +and it is a marvel that I was able to hang to that dynamic bundle of +trained muscles--which defines Mr. Earl Percy well enough--for more than +ten seconds. Yet I did hang to him, as Pere Baudry testifies, for a +minute and a half, which seems no inconsiderable lapse of time to a +person undergoing such experiences as were then afflicting me. + +It appeared to me that we were revolving in enormous circles in the +ether, and I had long since given my last gasp, when there came a great +roaring wind in my ears and a range of mountains toppled upon us both; +we went to earth beneath it. + +"Ha! you must create violence, then?" roared the avalanche. + +And the voice was the voice of Keredec. + +Some one pulled me from underneath my struggling antagonist, and, the +power of sight in a hazy, zigzagging fashion coming back to me, I +perceived the figure of Miss Anne Elliott recumbent beside me, her arms +about Mr. Percy's prostrate body. The extraordinary girl had fastened +upon him, too, though I had not known it, and she had gone to ground +with us; but it is to be said for Mr. Earl Percy that no blow of his +touched her, and she was not hurt. Even in the final extremities of +temper, he had carefully discriminated in my favour. + +Mrs. Harman was bending over her, and, as the girl sprang up lightly, +threw her arms about her. For my part, I rose more slowly, section by +section, wondering why I did not fall apart; lips, nose, and cheeks +bleeding, and I had a fear that I should need to be led like a blind +man, through my eyelids swelling shut. That was something I earnestly +desired should not happen; but whether it did, or did not--or if the +heavens fell!--I meant to walk back to Quesnay with Anne Elliott that +night, and, mangled, broken, or half-dead, presenting whatever +appearance of the prize-ring or the abattoir that I might, I intended to +take the same train for Paris on the morrow that she did. + +For our days together were not at an end; nor was it hers nor my desire +that they should be. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +It was Oliver Saffren--as I like to think of him--who helped me to my +feet and wiped my face with his handkerchief, and when that one was +ruined, brought others from his bag and stanched the wounds gladly +received, in the service of his wife. + +"I will remember--" he said, and his voice broke. "These are the +memories which Keredec says make a man good. I pray they will help to +redeem me." And for the last time I heard the child in him speaking: "I +ought to be redeemed; I must be, don't you think, for her sake?" + +"Lose no time!" shouted Keredec. "You must be gone if you will reach +that certain town for the five-o'clock train of the morning." This was +for the spy's benefit; it indicated Lisieux and the train to Paris. Mr. +Percy struggled; the professor knelt over him, pinioning his wrists in +one great hand, and holding him easily to earth. + +"Ha! my friend--" he addressed his captive--"you shall not have cause to +say we do you any harm; there shall be no law, for you are not hurt, and +you are not going to be. But here you shall stay quiet for a little +while--till I say you can go." As he spoke he bound the other's wrists +with a short rope which he took from his pocket, performing the same +office immediately afterward for Mr. Percy's ankles. + +"I take the count!" was the sole remark of that philosopher. "I can't go +up against no herd of elephants." + +"And now," said the professor, rising, "good-bye! The sun shall rise +gloriously for you tomorrow. Come, it is time." + +The two women were crying in each other's arms. "Good-bye!" sobbed Anne +Elliott. + +Mrs. Harman turned to Keredec. "Good-bye! for a little while." + +He kissed her hand. "Dear lady, I shall come within the year." + +She came to me, and I took her hand, meaning to kiss it as Keredec had +done, but suddenly she was closer and I felt her lips upon my battered +cheek. I remember it now. + +I wrung her husband's hand, and then he took her in his arms, lifted her +to the foot-board of the cart, and sprang up beside her. + +"God bless you, and good-bye!" we called. + +And their voices came back to us. "God bless YOU and good-bye!" They +were carried into the enveloping night. We stared after them down the +road; watching the lantern on the tail-board of the cart diminish; +watching it dim and dwindle to a point of gray;--listening until the +hoof-beats of the heavy Norman grew fainter than the rustle of the +branch that rose above the wall beside us. But it is bad luck to strain +eyes and ears to the very last when friends are parting, because that so +sharpens the loneliness; and before the cart went quite beyond our ken, +two of us set out upon the longest way to Quesnay. + +THE END + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Guest of Quesnay, by Booth Tarkington + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GUEST OF QUESNAY *** + +This file should be named qsnay10.txt or qsnay10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, qsnay11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, qsnay10a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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