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Snaith—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both;} - -p { margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; - text-indent: 1.5em;} - -.no-indent {text-indent: 0;} - -.p4b {margin-bottom: 4em;} -.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} - -.ph1 {text-align: center; - margin-top: .51em; - margin-bottom: .49em; - font-size: xx-large; - font-weight: bold; - text-indent: 0;} - -.ph2 {text-align: center; - margin-top: .51em; - margin-bottom: .49em; - font-size: x-large; - font-weight: bold; - text-indent: 0;} - -hr {width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both;} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } -hr.full {width: 99%; margin-left: 0.5%; margin-right: 0.5%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} /* page numbers */ - -.adblock {margin-left: 15%; - margin-right: 15%; - border: solid black 1px; - padding-left: 3em; - padding-right: 3em; - padding-top: 1.5em; - padding-bottom: 1.5em;} - -.adblock2 {margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; - border: solid black 1px; - padding-left: 3em; - padding-right: 3em; - padding-top: 1.5em; - padding-bottom: 1.5em;} - -.titleblock {margin-left: 25%; - margin-right: 25%; - border-style: double; - padding-left: 2em; - padding-right: 2em; - padding-top: 1.5em; - padding-bottom: 1.5em;} - -.x-ebookmaker .adblock {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em;} -.x-ebookmaker .adblock2 {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} -.x-ebookmaker .titleblock {margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Images */ - -img {max-width: 100%; - height: auto;} - -.figcenter {margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; - margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%;} - -.dropcap {float:left; - font-size: 40px; - line-height: 22.5px; - padding-top: 2px; - padding-bottom: .25px;} - -.x-ebookmaker-drop .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - -.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - -.x-ebookmaker .figcenter {width:100%} - -</style> - </head> - -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Van Roon, by J. C. Snaith</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Van Roon</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: J. C. Snaith</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 13, 2022 [eBook #68520]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by University of California libraries)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VAN ROON ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide" style="width: 35%"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /> -</div> - -<p class="ph1">THE VAN ROON</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="adblock2"> -<p class="center no-indent">By<br /> -J. C. SNAITH</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center no-indent">THE VAN ROON<br /> -THE COUNCIL OF SEVEN<br /> -THE ADVENTUROUS LADY<br /> -THE UNDEFEATED<br /> -THE SAILOR<br /> -THE TIME SPIRIT<br /> -THE COMING<br /> -ANNE FEVERSHAM</p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="center no-indent">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -Publishers      New York</p></div> -</div> -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="titleblock"> -<h1>THE VAN ROON</h1> - -<p class="center no-indent">BY<br /> -<br /> -J. C. SNAITH<br /> -<br /> -AUTHOR OF “THE SAILOR,” “THE UNDEFEATED,”<br /> -“THE COUNCIL OF SEVEN,” ETC.</p> - -<p class="p4b"> </p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> -<img src="images/i_titlepage.jpg" width="100" alt="Publishers Logo" -title="" /></div> - -<p class="center no-indent p4">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -NEW YORK :: LONDON :: MCMXXII</p></div> -</div> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center no-indent">COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY<br /> -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Copyright, 1922, by the Curtis Publishing Co.<br /> -PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br /> -</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p> -<p class="ph2 nobreak" id="THE_VAN_ROON">THE VAN ROON</p> -</div> - -<h2>I</h2> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">N</span>orth</span> of the Strand, east of the National Gallery, -a narrow street winds a devious course -towards Long Acre. To the casual eye it is no more -than a mean and dingy thoroughfare without charm or -interest, but for the connoisseur it has its legend. Here -Swinburne came upon his famous copy of “The Faerie -Queene”; here more than one collection has been enriched -by a Crome, a Morland, a choice miniature, a -first proof or some rare unsuspected article of bigotry -and virtue.</p> - -<p>On the right, going from Charing Cross, halfway -up the street, a shop, outwardly inconspicuous, bears -on its front in plain gilt letters the name S. Gedge, -Antiques.</p> - -<p>A regard for the <i>mot juste</i> could omit the final -letter. S. Gedge Antique was nearer the fact. To -look at, the proprietor of the business was an antique -of the most genuine kind, whose age, before he -was dressed for the day, might have been anything. -When, however, he had “tidied himself up” to sit at -the receipt of a custom, a process involving a shave, the -putting on of collar and dickey, prehistoric frock coat, -new perhaps for the Prince Consort’s funeral, and a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span> -pair of jemimas that also were “of the period,” his -years, in spite of a yellow parchment countenance of -an incredible cunning, could at conservative estimate -be reckoned as seventy.</p> - -<p>On a certain morning of September, the years of the -proprietor of S. Gedge Antiques, whatever they might -be, sat heavily upon him. Tall, sombre, gaunt, a cross -between a hop-pole and a moulting vulture, his tattered -dressing gown and chessboard slippers lent a touch of -fantasy to his look of eld, while the collar and dickey -of commerce still adorned the back kitchen dresser.</p> - -<p>Philosophers say that to find a reason for everything -is only a question of looking. The reason for the undress -of S. Gedge Antiques so late as eleven o’clock in -the morning was not far to seek. His right hand man -and sole assistant, who answered to the name of -William, and who was never known or called by any -other, had been away for an annual holiday of one -week, which this year he had spent in Suffolk. He was -due back in the course of that day and his master -would raise a pæan on his return. In the absence of -William the indispensable S. Gedge Antiques was like -a windjammer on a lee shore.</p> - -<p>There was a further reason for his lost air. He -was “at outs” with Mrs. Runciman, his charwoman, a -state of affairs which had long threatened to become -chronic. An old, and in her own opinion, an undervalued -retainer, the suspension of diplomatic relations -between Mrs. Runciman and her employer could -always be traced to one cause. S. Gedge attributed it -to the phases of the moon and their effect on the human -female, but the real root of the mischief was Mrs. -Runciman’s demand for “a raise in her celery.” For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span> -many years past the lady had held that her services -were worth more than “half a crown a day and her -grub.” The invariable reply of her master was that -he had never paid more to a char all the time he had -been in trade and that if she wanted more she could -keep away. This Thursday morning, according to -precedent when matters came to a head, Mrs. Runciman -had taken him at his word. The old man knew, -however, that her absence would only be temporary. -A single day off would vindicate the rights of woman. -As sure as the sun rose on the morrow Mrs. R. would -return impenitent but in better fettle for charring. But -as he made a point of telling her, she would play the -trick once too often.</p> - -<p>Char-less for the time being, assistant-less also, this -morning S. Gedge was not only looking his age, he -was feeling it; but he had already begun to examine -the contents of a large packing case from Ipswich -which Messrs. Carter Paterson had delivered half an -hour ago at the back of the premises by the side entry. -Handicapped as S. Gedge Antiques at the moment was, -he could well have deferred these labours until later -in the day. Human curiosity, however, had claimed -him as a victim.</p> - -<p>By a side wind he had heard of a sale at a small and -rather inaccessible house in the country where a few -things might be going cheap. As this was to take place -in the course of William’s holiday, the young man had -been given a few pounds to invest, provided that in his -opinion “the goods were full value.” By trusting -William to carry out an operation of such delicacy, his -master whose name in trade circles was that of “a very -keen buyer” was really paying him the highest compliment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span> -in his power. For the god of S. Gedge Antiques -was money. In the art of “picking things up,” however, -William had a lucky touch. His master could -depend as a rule on turning over a few shillings on each -of the young man’s purchases; indeed there were occasions -when the few shillings had been many. The -truth was that William’s flair for a good thing was -almost uncanny.</p> - -<p>Adroit use of a screwdriver prised the lid off the -packing case. A top layer of shavings was removed. -With the air of a <i>dévot</i> the old man dug out William’s -first purchase and held it up to the light of New Cross -Street, or to as much of that dubious commodity as -could filter down the side entry.</p> - -<p>Purchase the first proved to be a copy of an engraving -by P. Bartolozzi: the <i>Mrs. Lumley and Her Children</i> -of Sir Joshua Reynolds. An expert eye priced it -at once a safe thirty shillings in the window of the -front shop, although William had been told not to exceed -a third of that sum at Loseby Grange, Saxmundham. -So far so good. With a feeling of satisfaction -S. Gedge laid the engraving upon a chair of ornate appearance -but doubtful authenticity, and proceeded to -remove more straw from the packing case. Before, -however, he could deal with William’s second purchase, -whatever it might be, he was interrupted.</p> - -<p>A voice came from the front shop.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si! Uncle Si! Where are you?”</p> - -<p>The voice was feminine. S. Gedge Antiques, crusted -bachelor and confirmed hater of women, felt a sudden -pang of dismay.</p> - -<p>“Where are you, Uncle Si?”</p> - -<p>“Com-ming!” A low roar boomed from the interior<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span> -of the packing case. It failed, however, to get beyond -the door of the lumber room.</p> - -<p>“That girl of Abe’s” ruminated the old man deep in -straw. In the stress of affairs, he had almost forgotten -that the only child of a half brother many years his -junior, was coming to London by the morning train.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si!”</p> - -<p>With a hiss of disgust worthy of an elderly cobra he -writhed his head free of the straw. “Confound her, -turning up like this. Why couldn’t she come this afternoon -when the boy’d be home? But that’s a woman. -They’re born as cross as Christmas.”</p> - -<p>A third time his name was called.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, unshaven, beslippered, bespectacled, -slowly emerged from the decent obscurity of -the back premises into the fierce publicity of the front -shop. He was greeted by a sight of which his every -instinct profoundly disapproved.</p> - -<p>The sight was youthful, smiling, fresh complexioned. -In a weak moment, for which mentally he had been -kicking himself round the shop ever since, he had been -so unwise as to offer to adopt this girl who had lost -her father some years ago and had lately buried her -mother. Carter Paterson had delivered her trunk -along with the packing case from Ipswich, a fact he -now recalled.</p> - -<p>Had S. Gedge had an eye for anything but antiques, -he must have seen at once that his niece was by way -of being a decidedly attractive young woman. She -was nineteen, and she wore a neat well-fitting black -dress and a plain black hat in which cunning and good -taste were mingled. Inclined to be tall she was slender -and straight and carried herself well. Her eyes were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span> -clear, shrewd and smiling. In fact they appeared to -smile quite considerably at the slow emergence from -the back premises of S. Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>In the girl’s hand was a pilgrim basket, which she -put carefully on a gate-legged table, marked “£4.19.6, -a great bargain” and then very fearlessly embraced its -owner.</p> - -<p>“How are you, niece?” gasped the old man who felt -that an affront had been offered to the dignity of the -human male.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Uncle Si, I’m first rate,” said the girl -trying for the sake of good manners not to smile too -broadly.</p> - -<p>“Had a comfortable journey?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, thank you.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t expect you so soon. However, your box -has come. By the way, what’s your name? I’ve -forgotten it.”</p> - -<p>“June.”</p> - -<p>“June, eh? One of these new fangled affairs,” S. -Gedge spoke aggrievedly. “Why not call yourself -December and have done with it?”</p> - -<p>“I will if you like,” said June obligingly. “But it -seems rather long. Do you care for De, Cem, or Ber -for short?”</p> - -<p>“It don’t matter. What’s in a name? I only thought -it sounded a bit sloppy and new fangled.”</p> - -<p>The eyes of June continued to regard S. Gedge Antiques -with a demure smile. He did not see the smile. -He only saw her and she was a matter for grave -reflection.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">S.</span> Gedge Antiques</span> peered dubiously at his -niece. He had a dislike of women and more -than any other kind he disliked young women. But -one fact was already clear; he had let himself in for -it. Frowning at this bitter thought he cast his mind -back in search of a reason. Knowing himself so well -he was sure that a reason there must be and a good one -for so grave an indiscretion. Suddenly he remembered -the charwoman and his brow cleared a little.</p> - -<p>“Let me have a look at you, niece.” As a hawk -might gaze at a wren he gazed at June through his -spectacles. “Tall and strong seemingly. I hope you’re -not afraid of hard work.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not afraid of anything, Uncle Si,” said June -with calm precision.</p> - -<p>“No answers,” said S. Gedge curtly. “If you intend -to stay here you’ve got to mind your p’s and q’s and -you’ve got to earn your keep.” He sighed and impatiently -plucked the spectacles from his nose. “Thought -so,” he snarled. “I’m looking at you with my selling -spectacles. For this job I’ll need my buying ones.”</p> - -<p>Delving into the capacious pockets of his dressing -gown, the old man was able to produce a second pair -of glasses. He adjusted them grimly. “Now I can -begin to see you. Favour your father seemingly. And -he was never a mucher—wasn’t your father.”</p> - -<p>“Dad is dead, Uncle Si.” There was reproof in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span> -June’s strong voice. “And he was a very good man. -There was never a better father than Dad.”</p> - -<p>“Must have been a good man. He hardly left you -and your mother the price of his funeral.”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t Dad’s fault that he was unlucky in business.”</p> - -<p>“Unlucky.” S. Gedge Antiques gave a sharp tilt to -his “buying” spectacles. “I don’t believe in luck -myself.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you?” said June, with a touch of defiance.</p> - -<p>“No answers.” Uncle Si held up a finger of warning. -“Your luck is you’re not afraid of work. If -you stop here you’ll have to stir yourself.”</p> - -<p>June confessed a modest willingness to do her best.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge continued to gaze at her. It was clear that -he had undertaken an immense responsibility. A live -sharp girl, nineteen years of age, one of these modern -hussies, with opinions of her own, was going to alter -things. It was no use burking the fact, but a wise man -would have looked it in the face a little sooner.</p> - -<p>“The char is taking a day off,” he said, breaking this -reverie. “So I’d better give you a hand with your box. -You can then change your frock and come and tidy up. -If you give your mind to your job I daresay I’ll be -able to do without the char altogether. The woman’s -a nuisance, as all women are. But she’s the worst kind -of a nuisance, and I’ve been trying to be quit of her -any time this ten years.”</p> - -<p>In silence June followed Uncle Si kitchenwards, -slowly removing a pair of black kid gloves as she did -so. He helped her to carry a trunk containing all her -worldly possessions up a steep, narrow, twisty flight of -uncarpeted stairs to a tiny attic, divided by a wooden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span> -partition from a larger one, and lit by a grimy window -in the roof. It was provided with a bedstead, a mattress, -a chest of drawers, a washing stand and a crazy -looking-glass.</p> - -<p>“When the boy comes, he’ll find you a couple o’ -blankets, I daresay. Meantime you can fall to as soon -as you like.”</p> - -<p>June lost no time in unpacking. She then exchanged -her new mourning for an old dress in which to begin -work. As she did so her depression was terrible. The -death of her mother, a month ago, had meant the loss -of everything she valued in the world. There was no -one else, no other thing that mattered. But she had -promised that she would be a brave girl and face life -with a stout heart, and she was going to be as good -as her word.</p> - -<p>For that reason she did not allow herself to spend -much time over the changing of her dress. She would -have liked to sit on the edge of the small bed in that -dismal room and weep. The future was an abyss. -Her prospects were nil. She had ambition, but she -lacked the kind of education and training that could -get her out of the rut; and all the money she had in -the world, something less than twenty pounds, was in -her purse in a roll of notes, together with a few odd -shillings and coppers. Nothing more remained of the -sum that had been realized by the sale of her home, -which her mother and she had striven so hard to keep -together. And when this was gone she would have -to live on the charity of her Uncle Si, who was said to -be a very hard man and for whom she had already conceived -an odd dislike, or go out and find something -to do.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span></p> - -<p>Such an outlook was grim. But as June put on an -old house frock she shut her lips tight and determined -not to think about to-morrow. Uncle Si had told her -to clean out the grate in the back kitchen. She flattered -herself that she could clean out a grate with anybody. -Merely to stop the cruel ache at the back of her brain -she would just think of her task, and nothing else.</p> - -<p>In about ten minutes June came down the attic -stairs, fully equipped even to an overall which she had -been undecided whether to pack in her box but had -prudently done so.</p> - -<p>“Where are the brushes and dust pan, Uncle Si?”</p> - -<p>“In the cupboard under the scullery sink.” A growl -emerged from the packing case, followed by a gargoyle -head. “And when you are through with the kitchen -grate you can come and clear up this litter, and then -you can cook a few potatoes for dinner—that’s if you -know how.”</p> - -<p>“Of course I know how,” said June.</p> - -<p>“Your mother seems to have brought you up properly. -If you give your mind to your job and you’re -not above soiling your hands I quite expect we’ll be -able to do without the char.”</p> - -<p>June, her large eyes fixed on Uncle Si, did not flinch -from the prospect. She went boldly, head high, in the -direction of the scullery sink while S. Gedge Antiques -proceeded to burrow deeper and deeper into the packing -case.</p> - -<p>Presently he dug out a bowl of Lowestoft china, -which he tapped with a finger nail and held up to the -light.</p> - -<p>“It’s a good piece,” he reflected. “There’s one thing -to be said for that boy—he don’t often make mistakes.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span> -I wonder what he paid for this. However, I shall -know presently,” and S. Gedge placed the bowl on a -chair opposite the engraving “after” P. Bartolozzi.</p> - -<p>His researches continued, but there was not much to -follow. Still, that was to be expected. William had -only been given twenty pounds and the bowl alone was -a safe fiver. The old man was rather sorry that William -had not been given more to invest. However, -there was a copper coal-scuttle that might be polished -up to fetch three pounds, and a set of fire irons and -other odds and ends, not of much account in themselves, -but all going to show that good use had been made of -the money.</p> - -<p>“Niece,” called Uncle Si when at last the packing -case was empty, “come and give a hand here.”</p> - -<p>With bright and prompt efficiency June helped to -clear up the débris and to haul the packing case into -the backyard.</p> - -<p>The old man said at the successful conclusion of -these operations:</p> - -<p>“Now see what you can do with those potatoes. Boil -’em in their skins. There’s less waste that way and -there’s more flavour.”</p> - -<p>“What time is dinner, Uncle Si?”</p> - -<p>“One o’clock sharp.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, having put on his collar, and -discarded his dressing gown for the frock coat of -commerce, shambled forward into the front shop with -the air of a man who has no time to waste upon -trivialities. So far things were all right. The girl -seemed willing and capable and he hoped she would -continue to be respectful. The times were against it, -certainly. In the present era of short skirts, open-work<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> -stockings, fancy shoes and bare necks, it was hard, -even for experts like himself, to say what the world -was coming to. Girls of the new generation were terribly -independent. They would sauce you as soon as -look at you, and there was no doubt they knew far -more than their grandmothers. In taking under his -roof the only child of a half-brother who had died -worth precious little, S. Gedge Antiques was simply -asking for trouble. At the same time there was no -need to deny that June had begun well, and if at eight -o’clock the next morning he was in a position to say, -“Mrs. R. you can take another day off and get yourself -a better billet,” he would feel a happier man.</p> - -<p>A voice with a ring in it came from the shop threshold. -“Uncle Si, how many potatoes shall I cook?”</p> - -<p>“Three middling size. One for me, one for you, -one for William if he comes. And if he don’t come, -he can have it cold for his supper.”</p> - -<p>“Or I can fry it,” said the voice from the threshold.</p> - -<p>“You can fry it?” S. Gedge peered towards the -voice over the top of his “buying” spectacles. “Before -we go in for fancy work let us see what sort of a job -you make of a plain bilin’. Pigs mustn’t begin to fly -too early—not in the West Central postal district.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know much about pigs,” said June, calmly, -“but I’ll boil a potato with anyone.”</p> - -<p>“And eat one too I expect,” said S. Gedge severely -closuring the incident.</p> - -<p>The axiom he had just laid down applied to young -female pigs particularly.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">S.</span> Gedge Antiques</span>, feather duster in hand, -began to flick pensively a number of articles of -bigotry and virtue. The occupation amused him. It -was not that he had any great regard for the things he -sold, but each was registered in his mind as having -been bought for so much at So-and-So’s sale. A thoroughly -competent man he understood his trade. He -had first set up in business in the year 1879. That was -a long time ago, but it was his proud boast that he had -yet to make his first serious mistake. Like everyone -else, he had made mistakes, but it pleased him to think -that he had never been badly “let in.” His simple rule -was not to pay a high price for anything. Sometimes -he missed a bargain by not taking chances, but banking -on certainties brought peace of mind and a steady -growth of capital.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the worst shot he had ever made was the -queer article to which he now applied the duster. A -huge black jar, about six feet high and so fantastically -hideous in design as to suggest the familiar of a Caribbean -witch doctor or the joss of a barbarous king, held -a position of sufficient prominence on the shop floor -for his folly to be ever before him. Years ago he had -taken this grinning, wide-mouthed monster, shaped -and featured like Moloch, in exchange for a bad debt, -hoping that in the course of time he would be able to -trade it away. As yet he had not succeeded. Few people -apparently had a use for such an evil-looking thing -which took up so much house room. S. Gedge Antiques<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span> -was loth to write it off a dead loss, but he had -now come to regard it as “a hoodoo.” He was not a -superstitious man but he declared it brought bad luck. -On several occasions when a chance seemed to arise -of parting with it to advantage, something had happened -to the intending purchaser; indeed it would have -called for no great effort of the imagination to believe -that a curse was upon it.</p> - -<p>By an association of ideas, as the feathers flicked -that surface of black lacquer, the mind of S. Gedge -reverted to his niece. She, too, was a speculation, a -leap in the dark. You never knew where you were -with women. Now that the fools in Parliament had -given females a vote the whole sex was demoralised. -He had been terribly rash; and he could tell by the -look of the girl that she had a large appetite. Still if -he could do without “that woman” it would be something.</p> - -<p>The picture, however, was not all dark. A flick of -the feathers emphasised its brighter side as William recurred -suddenly to his mind. Taking all things into -account, he was ready to own that the able youth was -the best bargain he had ever made. Some years ago, -William, a needy lad of unknown origin, had been engaged -at a very small wage to run errands and to make -himself of general use. Finding him extremely intelligent -and possessed of real aptitude, his master with an -eye to the future, had taught him the trade. And he -had now become so knowledgeable that for some little -time past he had been promoted to an active part in the -business.</p> - -<p>If William had a fault it was that in his master’s -opinion he was almost too honest. Had it been humanly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span> -possible for S. Gedge Antiques to trust any man -with a thousand pounds, William undoubtedly would -have been that man. Besides, he had grown so expert -that his employer was learning to rely more and more -upon his judgment. The time had come when S. Gedge -Antiques had need of young eyes in the most delicate -art of choosing the right thing to buy; and this absolutely -dependable young man had now taken rank in -his master’s mind, perhaps in a higher degree than that -master recognised, as an asset of priceless value. -Sooner or later, if William went on in his present way, -the long-deferred rise in his wages would have to enter -the region of practical politics. For example, there -was this packing case from Ipswich. Without indulgence -in flagrant optimism—and the old man was seldom -guilty of that—there was a clear profit already in -sight. The bowl of Lowestoft might fetch anything -up to ten pounds and even then it would be “a great -bargain at clearance sale prices.” Then there was the -engraving. William had a nose for such things; indeed -his master often wondered how a young chap with no -education to speak of could have come by it.</p> - -<p>At this point there was heard a quiet and respectful: -“Good morning, sir.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge, standing with his back to the shop door, -the china bowl again in hand, was taken by surprise. -William was not expected before the afternoon.</p> - -<p>That young man was rather tall and rather slight; -he was decidedly brown from the sun of East Anglia; -and some people might have considered him handsome. -In his left hand he carried a small gladstone bag. And -beneath his right arm was an article wrapped in brown -paper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span></p> - -<p>“Ah, that’s the bowl,” said William eagerly. “A nice -piece, sir, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“I may be able to tell you more about that,” the -cautious answer, “when I know what you gave for it.”</p> - -<p>William had given thirty shillings.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques tapped the bowl appraisingly. -“Thirty shillings! But that’s money.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure it’s a good piece, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you may be right,” said S. Gedge grudgingly. -“Lowestoft is fetching fair prices just now. -What’s that under your arm?”</p> - -<p>“It’s something I’ve bought for myself, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Out of the money I gave you?” said the old man -as keen as a goshawk.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said William with great simplicity. “Your -money was all in the packing case. I’ll give you an -account of every penny.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what’s the thing you’ve bought for yourself,” -said the master sternly.</p> - -<p>“It’s a small picture I happened to come across in -an old shop at Crowdham Market.”</p> - -<p>“Picture, eh?” S. Gedge Antiques dubiously -scratched a scrub of whisker with the nail of his forefinger. -“Don’t fancy pictures myself. Chancey things -are pictures. Never brought <i>me</i> much luck. However, -I’ll have a look at it. Take off the paper.”</p> - -<p>William took off the paper and handed to his master -the article it had contained. With a frown of petulant -disgust the old man held an ancient and dilapidated -daub up to the light. So black it was with grime and -age that to his failing eyes not so much as a hint of the -subject was visible.</p> - -<p>“Nothing to write home about anyhow,” was the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span> -sour comment. “Worth nothing beyond the price of -the frame. And I should put that”—S. Gedge pursed -a mouth of professional knowledge—“at five shillings.”</p> - -<p>“Five shillings, sir, is what I paid for it.”</p> - -<p>“Not worth bringing home.” S. Gedge shook a -dour head. Somehow he resented his assistant making -a private purchase, but that may have been because -there was nothing in the purchase when made. “Why -buy a thing like that?”</p> - -<p>William took the picture gravely from his master -and held it near the window.</p> - -<p>“I have an idea, sir, there may be a subject underneath.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t believe in ideas myself,” snapped S. Gedge, -taking a microscope from the counter. After a brief -use of it he added, “There may be a bit o’ badly painted -still life, but what’s the good o’ that.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve a feeling, sir, there’s something below it.”</p> - -<p>“Rubbish anyhow. It’ll be a fortnight’s job to get -the top off and then like as not you’ll have wasted your -time. Why buy a pig in a poke when you might have -invested your five shillings in a bit more china? However, -it’s no affair of mine.”</p> - -<p>“There’s something there, sir, under those flowers, -I feel sure,” said the young man taking up the microscope -and gazing earnestly at the picture. “But what -it is I can’t say.”</p> - -<p>“Nor can anyone else. However, as I say, it’s your -funeral. In our trade there’s such a thing as being too -speculative, and don’t forget it, boy.”</p> - -<p>“I might find a thing worth having, sir,” William -ventured to say.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span></p> - -<p>“Pigs might fly,” snapped S. Gedge Antiques, his -favourite formula for clinching an argument.</p> - -<p>The mention of pigs, no doubt again by an association -of ideas, enabled S. Gedge to notice, which he -might have done any time for two minutes past, that -his niece had emerged from the back premises, and -that she was regarding William and the picture with -frank curiosity.</p> - -<p>“Well, niece,” said the old man sharply. “What do -you want now?”</p> - -<p>“Is the cold mutton in the larder for dinner, Uncle -Si?” said June with a slight but becoming blush at being -called upon to speak in the presence of such a very -nice looking young man.</p> - -<p>“What else do you think we are going to have? -Truffles in aspic or patty de four grass?”</p> - -<p>“No, Uncle Si,” said June gravely.</p> - -<p>“Very well then,” growled S. Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">I</span>t</span> was not until the evening, after tea, when S. -Gedge Antiques had gone by bus to Clerkenwell in -order to buy a Queen Anne sofa from a dealer in difficulties -that William and June really became known to -one another. Before then, however, their respective -presences had already charged the atmosphere of No. -46 New Cross Street with a rare and subtle quality.</p> - -<p>William, even at a first glance, had been intrigued -more than a little by the appearance of the niece. To -begin with she was a great contrast to Mrs. Runciman. -She looked as clean and bright as a new pin, she had -beautiful teeth, her hair was of the kind that artists -want to paint and her way of doing it was cunning. -Moreover, she was as straight as a willow, her movements -had charm and grace, and her eyes were grey. -And beyond all else her smile was full of friendship.</p> - -<p>As for June, her first thought had been, when she -had unexpectedly come upon William holding up to -the light the picture he had bought at Crowdham Market, -that the young man had an air at once very gentle -and very nice. And in the first talk they had together -in the course of that evening, during the providential -absence of Uncle Si, this view of William was fully -confirmed.</p> - -<p>He was very gentle and he was very nice.</p> - -<p>The conversation began shortly after seven o’clock -when William had put up the shutters and locked the -door of the shop. It was he who opened the ball.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p> - -<p>“You’ve come to stay, Miss Gedge, haven’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said June, “if I can make myself useful to -Uncle Si.”</p> - -<p>“But aren’t you adopted? The master said a fortnight -ago he was going to adopt you.”</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si says I’m half and half at present,” said -June demurely. “I’m a month on trial. If I suit his -ways he says I can stay, but if I don’t I must get after -a job.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you will stay,” said William with obvious -sincerity.</p> - -<p>There was enough Woman in the heart of the niece -of S. Gedge Antiques to cause her to smile to herself. -This was a perfect Simple Simon of a fellow, yet she -could not deny that there was something about him -which gave her quite a thrill.</p> - -<p>“Why do you hope so?” asked Woman, with seeming -innocence.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know why I do, unless it is that you are so -perfectly nice to talk to.” And the Simpleton grew -suddenly red at his own immoderation.</p> - -<p>Woman in her cardinal aspect might have said -“Really” in a tone of ice; she might even have been -tempted to ridicule such a statement made by such a -young man; but Woman in the shrewdly perceptive -person of June was now aware that this air of quaint -sincerity was a thing with which no girl truly wise -would dare to trifle. William was William and must -be treated accordingly.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you very clever?”</p> - -<p>She knew he was clever, but for a reason she couldn’t -divine she was anxious to let him know that she knew -it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p> - -<p>“I don’t think I am at all.”</p> - -<p>“But you are,” said June. “You must be very clever -indeed to go about the country buying rare things cheap -for Uncle Si to sell.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, anybody can pick up a few odds and ends now -and again if one has been given the money to buy -them.”</p> - -<p>“Anybody couldn’t. I couldn’t for one.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t that because you’ve not been brought up to -the business?”</p> - -<p>“It’s more than that,” said June shrewdly. “You -must have a special gift for picking up things of -value.”</p> - -<p>“I may have,” the young man modestly allowed. -“The master trusts me as a rule to tell whether a thing -is genuine.”</p> - -<p>June pinned him with her eyes. “Then tell me this.” -Her suddenness took him completely by surprise. “Is -<i>he</i> genuine?”</p> - -<p>“Who? The master!”</p> - -<p>“Yes—Uncle Si.”</p> - -<p>The answer came without an instant’s hesitation. -“Yes, Miss June, he is. The master is a genuine -piece.”</p> - -<p>“I am very glad to hear it,” said June with a slight -frown.</p> - -<p>“Yes, the master is genuine.” Depth and conviction -were in the young man’s tone. “In fact,” he added -slowly, “you might say he is a museum piece.”</p> - -<p>At this solemnity June smiled.</p> - -<p>“He’s a very good man.” A warmth of affection -fused the simple words. “Why he took me from down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span> -there as you might say.” William pointed to the -ground. “And now I’m his assistant.”</p> - -<p>“At how much a week,” said the practical June, “if -the question isn’t rude?”</p> - -<p>“I get fifteen shillings.”</p> - -<p>“A week?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. And board and lodging.”</p> - -<p>She looked the young man steadily in the eyes. “You -are worth more.”</p> - -<p>“If the master thinks I’m worth more, he’ll give it -to me.”</p> - -<p>June pursed her lips and shook a dubious head. Evidently -she was not convinced.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I’m sure he will. In fact, he’s promised -to raise my wages half a crown from the first of the -new year.”</p> - -<p>“I should just think so!” said June looking him still -in the eyes.</p> - -<p>“Of course I always get everything found.”</p> - -<p>“What about your clothes?”</p> - -<p>With an air of apology he had to own that clothes -were not included; yet to offset this reluctant admission -he laid stress on the fact that his master had taught -him all that he knew.</p> - -<p>June could not resist a frown. Nice as he was, she -would not have minded shaking him a little. No Simon -had a right to be quite so simple as this one.</p> - -<p>A pause followed. And then the young man suddenly -said: “Miss June would you care to see something -I bought the other day at Crowdham Market?”</p> - -<p>“I’d love to,” said the gracious Miss June. She -had seen ‘the something’ already but just now she was -by no means averse from having another look at it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p> - -<p>“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind coming up to the -studio.” William laughed shyly. “I call it that, although -of course it isn’t a studio really. And I only -call it that to myself you know,” he added naïvely.</p> - -<p>“Then why did you call it ‘the studio’ to me?” archly -demanded Woman in the person of the niece of S. -Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know why, I’m sure. It was silly.”</p> - -<p>“No, it wasn’t,” said Woman. “Rather nice of you, -I think.”</p> - -<p>The simpleton flushed to the roots of his thick and -waving chestnut hair which was brushed back from a -high forehead in a most becoming manner; and then -with rare presence of mind, in order to give his confusion -a chance, he showed the way up the two flights -of stairs which led direct to June’s attic. Next to it, -with only a thin wall dividing them, was a kind of extension -of her own private cubicle, a fairly large and -well lit room, which its occupant had immodestly called -“a studio.” A bed, a washing stand, and a chest of -drawers were tucked away in a far corner, as if they -didn’t belong.</p> - -<p>“The master lets me have this all to myself for the -sake of the light,” said the young man in a happy voice -as he threw open the door. “One needs a good light -to work by.”</p> - -<p>With the air of a Leonardo receiving a lady of the -Colonnas he ushered her in.</p> - -<p>A feminine eye embraced all at a glance. The walls -of bare whitewash bathed in the glories of an autumn -sunset, the clean skylight, the two easels with rather -dilapidated objects upon them, a litter of tools and canvases<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> -and frames, a pervading odour of turpentine, -and a look of rapture upon the young man’s face.</p> - -<p>“But it <i>is</i> a studio,” said June. Somehow she felt -greatly impressed by it. “I’ve never seen one before, -but it’s just like what one reads about in books.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, a studio is where pictures are painted. Here -they are only cleaned and restored.”</p> - -<p>“One day perhaps you’ll paint them.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I will; I don’t know.” He sighed a little, -too shy to confess his dream. “But that day’s a long -way off.”</p> - -<p>“It mayn’t be, you know.”</p> - -<p>He had begun already to try, but as yet it was a -secret from the world. “<i>Ars est celare artem</i>,” he -said.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean by that?”</p> - -<p>“Life is short, art eternal. It is the motto of the old -man who teaches me how to clean and renovate these -things. He says it keeps him up to his work.”</p> - -<p>“You go to an art school?”</p> - -<p>“I should hardly call it that. But the master wants -me to learn as much as I can of the practical side of -the trade, so he’s having me taught. And the more I -can pick up about pictures, the better it will be for the -business. You see, the master doesn’t pretend to know -much about pictures himself. His line is furniture.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t I say you were clever?” June could not help -feeling a little proud of her own perception.</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t say that”—the young man’s tone was -sad—“if you really knew how little I know. But allow -me to show you what I bought at Crowdham Market. -There it is.” He pointed to the old picture on the -smaller easel, which now divorced from its frame<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span> -seemed to June a mere daub, black, dilapidated, old and -worthless.</p> - -<p>She could not conceal her disappointment. “I don’t -call that anything.”</p> - -<p>“No!” He could not conceal his disappointment -either. “Take this glass.” A microscope was handed -to her. “Please look at it ve-ry ve-ry closely while I -hold it for you in the light.”</p> - -<p>June gave the canvas a most rigorous scrutiny, but -she had to own at last that the only thing she could see -was dirt.</p> - -<p>“Can’t you see water?”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>With his finger nail the young man found water.</p> - -<p>“No,” said June stoutly. “I don’t see a single drop. -And that’s a pity, because in my opinion, it would be -none the worse for a good wash.”</p> - -<p>This was a facer but he met it valiantly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see trees?”</p> - -<p>“Where are the trees?”</p> - -<p>The young man disclosed trees with his finger nail.</p> - -<p>“I can’t see a twig.”</p> - -<p>“But you can see a cloud.” With his finger nail he -traced a cloud.</p> - -<p>“I only see dirt and smudge,” said June the downright. -“To my mind this isn’t a picture at all.”</p> - -<p>“Surely, you can see a windmill?”</p> - -<p>“A windmill! Why there’s not a sign of one.”</p> - -<p>“Wait till it’s really clean,” said William with the -optimism of genius. He took up a knife and began -delicately to scrape that dark surface from which already -he had half removed a top layer of paint that -some inferior artist had placed there.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span></p> - -<p>June shook her head. There was a lovely fall in the -young man’s voice but it would take more than that to -convince her. She believed her eyes to be as good as -most people’s, but even with a microscope and William’s -finger to help them they could see never a sign -of a cloud or so much as a hint of water. As for a tree!... -and a windmill!... either this handsome -young man ... he really was handsome ... had -a sense that ordinary people had not ... or -... or...!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> suddenly remembered that she must go and -lay the supper.</p> - -<p>William modestly asked to be allowed to help.</p> - -<p>“Can you lay supper?” Polite the tone, but June -was inclined to think that here was the limit to William’s -cleverness.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, Miss June, I lay it nearly always. It’s part -of my work.”</p> - -<p>“Glad of your help, of course.” The tone was gracious. -“But I daresay you’d like to go on looking for -a windmill.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I think perhaps I would.” It was not quite -the answer of diplomacy, but behind it was a weight of -sincerity that took away the sting.</p> - -<p>“Thought so,” said June, with a dark smile. It -would have been pleasant to have had the help of this -accomplished young man, but above all things she was -practical and so understood that the time of such a -one must be of great value.</p> - -<p>“But I’m thinking you’ll have to look some while -for that windmill,” she said, trying not to be satirical.</p> - -<p>“The windmill I’ll not swear to, but I’m sure there’s -water and trees; although, of course, it may take some -time to find them.” William took up a piece of cotton -wool. “But we’ll see.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span></p> - -<p>He moistened the wool with a solvent, which he kept -in a bottle, a mysterious compound of vegetable oils -and mineral water; and then, not too hard, he began to -rub the surface of the picture.</p> - -<p>“I hope we shall,” said June, doubtfully. And she -went downstairs with an air of scepticism she was -unable to hide.</p> - -<p>Supper, in the main, was an affair of bread and -cheese and a jug of beer, drawn from the barrel in the -larder. It was not taken until a quarter past nine when -S. Gedge Antiques had returned from Clerkenwell. -The old man was in quite a good humour; in fact, it -might be said, to verge upon the expansive. He had -managed to buy the Queen Anne sofa for four pounds.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got a bargain, sir,” said William. It was -William who had discovered the sofa, and had strongly -advised its purchase.</p> - -<p>“That remains to be seen,” said his master, who -would have been vastly disappointed had there been -reason to think that he had not got a bargain.</p> - -<p>After supper, when the old man had put on his slippers -and an ancient smoking cap that made him look -like a Turkish pasha, he took from the chimneypiece -a pipe and a jar of tobacco, drew the easy chair to the -fire, and began to read the evening paper.</p> - -<p>“By the way, boy,” he remarked, quizzingly, “have -you started yet on that marvellous thing you were -clever enough to buy at Ipswich?”</p> - -<p>“Crowdham Market, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Crowdham Market, was it? Well, my father used -to say that fools and money soon part company.”</p> - -<p>June, who was clearing the table, could not forbear<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span> -from darting at the young man a gleam of triumph. -It was clear that Uncle Si believed no more in the windmill, -not to mention the trees and the water than did -she.</p> - -<p>A start had been made, but William confessed to a -fear that it might be a long job to get it clean.</p> - -<p>“And when you get it clean,” said his master, “what -do you expect to find, eh?—that’s if you’re lucky -enough to find anything.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t quite know,” said William frankly.</p> - -<p>“Neither do I,” S. Gedge Antiques scratched a cheek -of rather humorous cynicism. And then in sheer expansion -of mood, he went to the length of winking at -his niece. “Perhaps, boy,” he said, “you’ll find that -Van Roon that was cut out of its frame at the Louvre -in the Nineties, and has never been seen or heard of -since.”</p> - -<p>“Was there one, sir?” asked William, interested and -alert.</p> - -<p>The old man took up the evening paper, and began to -read. “Canvas sixteen inches by twelve—just about -your size, eh? One of the world’s masterpieces. Large -reward for recovery been on offer for more than twenty-five -years by French Government—but not claimed -yet seemingly. Said to be finest Van Roon in existence. -Now’s your chance, boy.” A second time S. -Gedge Antiques winked at his niece; and then folding -back the page of the <i>Evening News</i>, he handed it to -William, with the air of a very sly dog indeed. “See -for yourself. Special article. Mystery of Famous -Missing Picture. When you find the signature of -Mynheer Van Roon in the corner of this masterpiece<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span> -of yours, I shouldn’t wonder if you’re able to set up -in business for yourself.”</p> - -<p>Allowing Fancy a loose rein in this benign hour, -the old man, for the third time honoured his niece with -a solemn wink.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> next morning saw the beginning of a chain -of epoch-making events in the history of S. -Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>Shortly before eight o’clock Mrs. Runciman turned -up as usual after her day off. With a most businesslike -promptitude, however, she was given her quietus. -In dispensing with her services, from now on, Uncle -Si took a real pleasure in what he called “telling her -off.” Many times had he warned her that she would -play the trick once too often. And now that his prophecy -had come true, he was able to say just what he -thought of her, of her ancestry, and of her sex in -general. She would greatly oblige him by not letting -him see her face again.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Runciman, for her part, professed a cheerful -willingness to take her late employer at his word. -There was plenty of work to be had; and she departed -on a note of dignity which she sustained by informing -him in a voice loud enough for the neighbours to hear -that “he was a miser, and a screw, and that he would -skin a flea for its feathers.”</p> - -<p>On the top of this ukase to the char, the old man held -a short private conversation with his niece. June had -begun very well; and if she continued to behave herself, -got up in the morning without being called, was -not afraid of hard work, and had the breakfast ready -by a quarter to eight she would receive, in addition to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span> -board and lodging, two shillings a week pocket money, -and perhaps a small present at Christmas.</p> - -<p>As far as it went this was very well. “But,” said -June, “there’s my clothes, Uncle Si.”</p> - -<p>“Clothes!” The old man scratched his cheek. -“You’ve money of your own, haven’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Only twenty pounds.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll think about clothes when the time comes to -buy some.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge, however, admitted to William privately -that he had hopes of the niece. “But let me tell you -this, boy: it’s asking for trouble to have a young female -sleeping in the house. Old ones are bad enough, -even when they sleep out; young ones sleeping in may -be the very mischief.”</p> - -<p>In fact, the old man deemed it wise to reinforce -these observations with a solemn warning. “Understand, -boy, there must be no carrying on between you -and her.”</p> - -<p>“Carrying on, sir!” Such innocence might have -touched the heart of King Herod.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I said. I can trust you; in some ways -you hardly know you’re born; but with a woman, and -a young one at that, it’s another pair o’ shoes. Women -are simply the devil.”</p> - -<p>William’s blank face showed a fleck of scarlet; yet -the true inwardness of these Menander-like words were -lost upon him; and he was rebuked for being a perfect -fool in things that mattered. However, the arrangement -was merely temporary. If the girl behaved herself, -well and good; if she didn’t behave herself, niece -or no niece, she would have to go. But—touching -wood!—there was nothing to complain of so far.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p> - -<p>William quite agreed, yet he dare not say as much -to his master. In his opinion, there was no ground for -comparison between the dethroned goddess of whom -he had always been a little in awe, and the creature of -grace and charm, of fine perception and feminine -amenity who slept the other side the “studio” wall. -For all that, in the sight of this young man, one aspect -of the case was now a matter of concern.</p> - -<p>“Miss June,” he said on the evening of the second -day, “do you mind if I get up early to-morrow and do -a few odd jobs about the house?”</p> - -<p>“What sort of jobs?” Miss June’s air of suspicion -was tinged with sternness. Now that she reigned in -Mrs. Runciman’s stead she could not help feeling -rather important.</p> - -<p>“If you’ll show me where the brushes are kept, I’ll -blacklead the kitchen grate.”</p> - -<p>“Please don’t come interfering.” In June’s manner -was a touch of hauteur.</p> - -<p>Beneath the tan of East Anglia, the young man -coloured. “But you’ll spoil your hands,” he ventured.</p> - -<p>“My hands are no affair of yours,” said June, a little -touched, and trying not to show it.</p> - -<p>“Let me take over the kitchen grate for the future. -And if you don’t mind, I’ll scrub the shop floor.”</p> - -<p>“Is there anything else you’d like to do?” said June, -with amused scorn.</p> - -<p>“I’d like to do all the really rough jobs if I may.”</p> - -<p>“For why?”</p> - -<p>The Sawney had given his reason already, and, in -spite of a growing embarrassment, he stuck to his -guns.</p> - -<p>Said June sternly: “You mustn’t come interfering.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span> -Yet the light in her eyes was not anger. “You’ve got -your department and I’ve got mine. Windmills are -your department. Blackleading kitchen grates and -cleaning floors won’t help you to find windmills. Besides, -you have the shop to look after, and you have to -go out and find things for Uncle Si, and study art, and -talk to customers, and goodness knows what you -haven’t got to do.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if you don’t mind,” said William tenaciously, -“I’ll get in the coal, anyway.”</p> - -<p>June shook her head. “No interference,” was her -last word.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the following morning saw a division -of labour within the precincts of No. 46, New Cross -Street. When June came downstairs at a quarter to -seven, she found a young man on his knees vigorously -polishing the kitchen grate. He was sans coat, waistcoat -and collar; there was a smudge on the side of his -nose, and as the temper of a lady is apt to be short at -so early an hour, it was no wonder that he was rebuked -crushingly.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t I say I wouldn’t have interference? I don’t -come into your studio and look for windmills, do I?”</p> - -<p>William, still on his knees, had penitently to own -that she didn’t.</p> - -<p>“It’s—it’s a great liberty,” said June, hotly.</p> - -<p>He looked up at her with an air to disarm the Furies. -“Oh—please—no!”</p> - -<p>“What is it then?” Secretly she was annoyed with -herself for not being as much annoyed as the case demanded. -“What is it then? Coming into my kitchen -with your interference.”</p> - -<p>“I’m ever so sorry, but——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p> - -<p>“But what?”</p> - -<p>“I simply can’t bear to think of your spoiling your -beautiful hands.”</p> - -<p>June’s eyes were fire; her cheek flamed like a peony. -“Go and look for your beautiful windmills, and leave -my hands alone.”</p> - -<p>But the owner of the beautiful hands was now fettered -by the knowledge that she was beginning to blush -horribly.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">I</span>n</span> the evening of the next day, about half an hour -before supper, June climbed the attic stairs and -knocked boldly upon the studio door.</p> - -<p>“Come in,” a gentle voice invited her.</p> - -<p>William, a lump of cotton wool in one hand, the -mysterious bottle in the other, was absorbed in the task -of looking for a windmill. He had to own, the queer -fellow, that so far success had not crowned his search.</p> - -<p>“I should think not,” said June, uncompromisingly.</p> - -<p>“But there are the trees.” William took up a knife -and laid the point to a canvas that was already several -tones lighter than of yore.</p> - -<p>There was a pause while June screwed up her eyes -like an expert; and in consequence she had reluctantly -to admit that they were unmistakable trees.</p> - -<p>“And now we are coming to the water, don’t you -see?” said the young man in a tone of quiet ecstasy.</p> - -<p>“Where’s the water?”</p> - -<p>With a lover’s delicacy, William ran the point of the -knife along the canvas.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see it, Miss June?” There was a thrill -in the low voice.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” said June. “It’s water, right enough.” -No use trying now not to be impressed. “Now I call -that rather clever!”</p> - -<p>“I knew it was there. And if you know a thing’s -there, sooner or later you are bound to find it. Do you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span> -know what my opinion is?” Of a sudden, the exalted -voice sank mysteriously.</p> - -<p>June had no idea what William’s opinion was, but -she was quite willing to hear it, whatever it might be, -for he had just had a considerable rise in her estimation.</p> - -<p>“It wouldn’t surprise me at all if this turns out to be -a——” He broke off with a perplexing smile.</p> - -<p>“Turns out to be a what?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I’d better not say.” The words, in their -caution and their gravity intrigued a shrewd daughter -of the midlands. June, in spite of herself, was beginning -to respect this odd young man.</p> - -<p>“You think it might be something very good?”</p> - -<p>“It might be something almost <i>too</i> good.” William’s -tone had a deep vibration. “If it keeps on coming out -like this, it’ll be wonderful. Do you see that cloud?”</p> - -<p>June peered hard, but she could not see a suspicion -of a cloud.</p> - -<p>“Take the microscope.”</p> - -<p>Even with the microscope no cloud was visible to -June.</p> - -<p>“I’m as sure of it as I ever was of anything,” said -William. “There’s a cloud—oh, yes!” The note of -faith was music. “And there’s a sky—oh, yes!” A -stray beam of the September sunset made an effect so -remarkable, as it slanted across the upturned eyes, that -June paid them rather more attention at the moment -than she gave to the canvas.</p> - -<p>“Has Uncle Si seen those trees?” she asked suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, the master came up to look at them a few minutes -ago.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p> - -<p>“What did he say?”</p> - -<p>“He just scratched his cheek and changed his spectacles.”</p> - -<p>“Did you tell him what you’ve just told me?”</p> - -<p>The young man nodded.</p> - -<p>“Did Uncle Si believe you?”</p> - -<p>“He said he’d wait till he saw it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, he can’t deny the trees, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“No, he can’t deny the trees. But, of course the -real picture is only just beginning to come out, as you -might say. All the same, he’s made me an offer for -it, even as it stands.”</p> - -<p>With a swift, sudden intuition, June cried: “I hope -you haven’t taken it!”</p> - -<p>“As a matter of fact, I haven’t,” said William, casually. -“I feel I’d like to keep the picture until I find out -what it really is.”</p> - -<p>“Well, mind you do. And, if the question isn’t a -rude one, what did Uncle Si offer?”</p> - -<p>“Seven and sixpence. But that’s for the frame -mainly.”</p> - -<p>June grew magisterial. “You mustn’t think of parting -with it.”</p> - -<p>With an innocence hard to credit in one so clever, -William asked why.</p> - -<p>“Why!” June almost snorted. “Because if Uncle -Si offers you seven and sixpence for a thing which he -knows you bought for five shillings, you can be sure -that he considers it may be valuable.”</p> - -<p>“The master has always been very good to me,” -said the young man with extreme simplicity.</p> - -<p>At these words June felt a stab of pain, so great was -the contrast between the two men. One saw the wares<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span> -in which they dealt only in terms of beauty, the other -in terms of money.</p> - -<p>“You are too modest. And, although you are so -clever, if you don’t mind my saying so, you are also -rather foolish in some ways—at least that’s my -opinion.”</p> - -<p>William frankly admitted the impeachment.</p> - -<p>“Well, now,” said June, a cool and steady eye upon -him, “suppose you tell me where you think your foolishness -lies?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I was foolish enough to think that patch”—the -Simpleton pressed the finger of an artist upon the -patch—“was really and truly a windmill. But, of -course, it’s nothing of the kind.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not speaking of windmills now,” said June -severely. “I’m speaking of things much more important.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but a windmill can be very important. Have -you ever really seen a windmill?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course, I have.”</p> - -<p>The Sawney asked where.</p> - -<p>June had seen a windmill in Lincolnshire.</p> - -<p>“Lincolnshire! Oh, but you should see the one in -the National Gallery.”</p> - -<p>“The one in the where?” said June, with a frown.</p> - -<p>Of a sudden his voice took its delicious fall. The -rare smile, which lit his face, was for June an enchantment: -“It’s a Hobbema.”</p> - -<p>“A what!—emma!”</p> - -<p>“A Hobbema. On Saturdays the shop closes at one, -so that I could take you to see it, if you’d care to. I -should like you so much to see it—that’s if it interests<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> -you at all. It will give you an idea of what a windmill -can be.”</p> - -<p>“But I meant a real windmill. I’m only interested -in real things, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“A Hobbema is better than real.”</p> - -<p>“Better than real,” said June, opening wide eyes.</p> - -<p>“When you see it, you’ll understand what I mean. I -do hope you’ll come and look at it.”</p> - -<p>June was such a practical person that her first instinct -was to refuse to do anything of the kind. But -that instinct was overborne by the complexity of her -feelings. In some ways he was the simplest Simon of -them all; a longing to shake him was growing upon -her, but the disconcerting fact remained that after a -fashion he was decidedly clever. And leaving his mental -qualities out of the case, when you got his face at -an angle and you caught the light in his eyes, he was -by far the handsomest young man she had ever seen. -Therefore her promise was reluctantly given that on -Saturday afternoon she would go with him to the National -Gallery to see what a windmill was really like.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une’s</span> promise was made on the evening of Monday. -Before it could be fulfilled, however, much -had to happen. Saturday itself was put out of the -case by the departure of William early that morning -to attend a sale in Essex, where several things might -be going cheap. And on the following Thursday he -had to go to Tunbridge Wells. During his absence on -that day, moreover, June’s interest in the picture he -had bought at Crowdham Market was roused suddenly -to a very high pitch.</p> - -<p>Even before this significant event occurred, her mind -had been full of this much-discussed purchase. Day -by day William wrought upon it with growing enthusiasm. -There was now no more doubt in regard to the -clouds and the sky than there was as to the trees and -the water. S. Gedge Antiques had been up to the attic -several times to see for himself, and although in his -opinion, the best that could be said for the picture was -that it might turn out to be a copy of a fair example -of the Dutch School, he went to the length of doubling -his offer of seven and sixpence. In other words, which -he issued with point at the supper table on the evening -prior to William’s trip to Tunbridge Wells, there was -“a full week’s extra wages sticking out,” if only the -young man cared to take it in exchange for a dubious -work of little or no value.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> - -<p>William needed, among other things, a new pair of -boots; he was short of the materials of his craft, and -the sum of fifteen shillings meant a great deal to him -at any time, facts with which his employer was well -acquainted. The temptation was great. While the -offer was under consideration, June held her breath. -She had a frantic desire to signal across the table to -William not to part with his treasure. Much to her -relief, however, the young man resisted the lure. His -master told him roundly that only a fool would refuse -such an offer. William allowed that it was princely, -but he had quite an affection for the picture now, besides, -much had to be done to get it really clean.</p> - -<p>At present, moreover, he had not even begun to look -for the signature.</p> - -<p>“Signature!” S. Gedge Antiques took up the word -sarcastically. And there were times, as June knew -already, when the old man could be terribly sarcastic. -“You’ll be looking, I suppose, for the signature of -Hobbema. Seems to me, boy, you’re cracked on that -subject.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think, sir,” said William, in his gentle voice, -“that this picture is a Hobbema.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you indeed?” To conceal a rising impatience -Uncle Si made a face at his niece. “You’re cracked, -my boy.” He gave his own forehead a symbolical tap. -“Why waste your time looking for a signature to a -thing you bought for five shillings at an old serendipity -shop at Crowdham Market! You’d far better turn -over a snug little profit of two hundred per cent and -forget all about it.”</p> - -<p>The next day, however, when William set out for -Tunbridge Wells, he was still the owner of the picture.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span> -And in the light of what was to follow it was a fact of -considerable importance.</p> - -<p>In the course of that morning, while June was helping -Uncle Si to dress the front window, there sauntered -into the shop a funny, oldish, foxy little man, who wore -a brown billycock hat at the back of his head, and had -a pair of legs as crooked as a Louis Quinze chair. She -set him down at once as a character out of Dickens.</p> - -<p>“Mornin’ to you, Mr. Gedge,” said this quaint -visitor.</p> - -<p>“Mornin’ to you, Mr. Thornton!” said S. Gedge -Antiques returning the salutation with deference.</p> - -<p>June cocked her ears. The note in Uncle Si’s rasping -voice, which always seemed to need a file, told her -at once that the visitor was no common man.</p> - -<p>As a preliminary to business, whatever that business -might be, Mr. Thornton fixed an eye like a small bright -bead on the Hoodoo, whose sinister bulk seemed to -dominate half the shop. It was fixed, moreover, with -an air of whimsical appreciation as he murmured: -“The British Museum is the place for that.”</p> - -<p>“There I’m with you, Mr. Thornton.” S. Gedge -Antiques looked his visitor steadily in the eye. “Wonderful -example of early Polynesian craftsmanship.”</p> - -<p>“Early Polynesian craftsmanship.” The little man -stroked the belly of the Hoodoo with a kind of rapt -delicacy which other men reserve for the fetlock of a -horse.</p> - -<p>“Only one of its kind.”</p> - -<p>“I should say so,” murmured Louis Quinze-legs, -screwing up his eyes; and then, by way of after-thought: -“I’ve just dropped in, Mr. Gedge, to have a -look at that picture you mentioned to me yesterday.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, <i>that</i>, Mr. Thornton.” The voice of S. Gedge -Antiques suggested that the matter was of such little -consequence that it had almost passed from his mind. -“S’pose I’d better get it for you.” And then with an -odd burst of agility, which in one of his years was quite -surprising, the old man left the shop, while June, her -heart beating high, went on dressing the window.</p> - -<p>In three minutes or less, William’s picture appeared -under the arm of William’s master. “Here you are, -Mr. Thornton!” The voice was oil.</p> - -<p>June made herself small between a Chinese cabinet -and a tallboys in the window’s deepest gorge. From -this point of vantage, the privilege of seeing and hearing -all that passed in the shop was still hers.</p> - -<p>Foxy Face received the picture in silence from Uncle -Si, held it to his eyes, pursed his lips, took a glass from -his pocket, and examined it minutely back and front, -turning it over and tapping it several times in the process. -The slow care he gave to this ritual began to get -on June’s nerves.</p> - -<p>“There’s good work in it,” said Louis Quinze-legs, at -last.</p> - -<p>“Good work in it!” said S. Gedge Antiques in what -June called his “selling” voice. “I should just think -there was.”</p> - -<p>“But there’s one thing it lacks.” The little man, -looking more than ever like a fox, chose each word -with delicacy. “It’s a pity—a very great pity—there’s -no signature.”</p> - -<p>“Signature!” The old man’s tone had lost the -drawling sneer of the previous evening. “Tell me, Mr. -Thornton,——” He must have forgotten that June -was so near—“if we happened to come upon the signature<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span> -of Hobbema down there in that left hand corner—in -that black splotch—what do you suppose it -might be worth?”</p> - -<p>Mr. Thornton did not answer the question at once. -And when answer he did, his voice was so low that -June could hardly hear it. “I wouldn’t like to say offhand, -Mr. Gedge. Mosby sent a Hobbema to New -York last year, but what he got for it I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>“I heard twenty-eight thousand dollars.”</p> - -<p>“So did I, but I doubt it. Still, the Americans are -paying big money just now. Did you see that thing -of Mosby’s, by the way?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; it was a bit larger than this chap, but it hadn’t -the work in it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, get it a bit cleaner; and then, if you can show -me Hobbema’s signature with the date, about the place -where I’ve got my finger, I dare say we can come to -business, Mr. Gedge.”</p> - -<p>“I quite expect we’ll be able to do that,” said the old -man with an air of robust optimism which surprised -June considerably.</p> - -<p>Foxy Face ventured to hope that such might be the -case, whereupon the voice of Uncle Si fell to a pitch -which his niece had to strain a keen ear to catch.</p> - -<p>“Suppose, Mr. Thornton, we omit the question of -the signature? Do you feel inclined to make an offer -for the picture as it stands?”</p> - -<p>The pause which followed was long and tense, and -then June was just able to hear the cautious voice of -Foxy Face. “Possibly, Mr. Gedge—I dare say I -might. But before I could think of doing that, I -should like a friend of mine to vet it. He’s wise in -these things, and knows what can be done with them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p> - -<p>“Right you are, Mr. Thornton,” said S. Gedge Antiques -brisk and businesslike. “If you can tell me -when your friend is likely to call, I’ll be here to meet -him.”</p> - -<p>“Shall we say to-morrow morning at ten?”</p> - -<p>“Very well, Mr. Gedge. And if my friend can’t -come, I’ll telephone.”</p> - -<p>Foxy Face was bowed out of the shop with a politeness -that fairly astonished June. She could hardly -believe that this mirror of courtesy was Uncle Si. In -fact, it was as if the old man had had a change of heart. -With the light step of a boy, he took back the picture -to the attic, while June, thinking hard, retired to the -back premises to cook two middling-sized potatoes for -dinner.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">I</span>T</span> was not until the evening that William returned -from Tunbridge Wells. He had been to look at a -picture which his master had seen already, but S. Gedge -Antiques was wise enough to recognise that his assistant -had an instinct for pictures far beyond his own. -In the matter of bric-à-brac he would always trust his -own judgment, but when it came to an oil painting he -was very glad to have it fortified by the special and -peculiar knowledge that William had now acquired. -There was no doubt that in this sphere, which for his -master was comparatively new and full of pitfalls, the -young man had a remarkable gift. It was a gift, moreover, -of which he had yet to learn the true value.</p> - -<p>In “summer-time” September the days are long; -and as supper was not until nine o’clock, there was -light enough for William, on getting home, to spend a -rare hour in the studio, delving for further beauties in -that derelict canvas which already had far exceeded -his hopes.</p> - -<p>“I know where you are going,” whispered June, in -the young man’s ear as he left the little sitting-room -behind the shop, where sat Uncle Si, spectacles on nose, -poring over the pages of Crowe and Cavalcaselle.</p> - -<p>The young man glowed at this friendly interest on -the part of Miss June; in fact, he was touched by it. -She was the master’s niece; therefore she was on a -plane of being superior to his own. And he had -learned already that those who are above you in the -world, are apt to turn their advantage to your detriment;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span> -but Miss June, for all that she was the master’s -niece and had been one term at the Blackhampton High -School, and was therefore a person of social weight, -had been careful so far not to assert her status. And -so his heart was open to her; besides this present keen -interest in his labours was most encouraging.</p> - -<p>“I’m coming up to look at it again, if I may,” whispered -June, as she followed him out of the room.</p> - -<p>“Please, please do,” he said, delightedly.</p> - -<p>As she climbed the steep stairs, William in the seventh -heaven, followed close upon her heels. What a -pleasure to expound the merits of such a work to one -so sympathetic! As for June, her quick mind was at -work. Even before the coming of Foxy Face she had -guessed, or some instinct had told her, that this picture -was no ordinary one, and now that she had overheard -that gentleman’s recent talk with Uncle Si she had -been given furiously to think. To understand all its -implications needed far more knowledge of a deep, -not to say “tricky,” subject than she possessed, but one -fact was clear: her opinion as to the picture’s value was -fully confirmed. Here was a treasure whose real -worth even William himself might not be able to guess.</p> - -<p>Now was the moment, June shrewdly saw, for -prompt and decisive action. Uncle Si had set his heart -upon this rare thing; but if flesh and blood was equal -to the task, she must take immediate steps to baulk him. -Alas, she knew only too well that it was likely to prove -an immensely difficult matter.</p> - -<p>June stood in front of the easel, and set her head to -one side quite in the manner of an expert.</p> - -<p>“It seems to grow finer and finer,” she said, in a soft -voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes, it does,” said William, touching it here and -there with loverly fingers. “If I can but manage to -get the top off without hurting the fabric, I’m sure it’ll -be a non-such.”</p> - -<p>June fervently said that she hoped it would be.</p> - -<p>“There’s the cloud I spoke to you about the other -day.”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” said June, screwing up her eyes, in unconscious -imitation of Foxy Face. “I see it now. And -it’s very beautiful indeed.”</p> - -<p>“And the touch of sunlight in it. I hope you notice -that!” As William spoke, it almost seemed to June -that she could see the reflection of the sunlight in the -eyes of this enthusiast.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do,” said June stoutly.</p> - -<p>“A real painter has done that!” The young man’s -voice took that dying fall she had learnt already to -listen for. “This is a lovely thing, Miss June!” Pure -cadence touched her heart with fire. “Do you know, -I am beginning to think this little picture is the most -perfect thing I have ever seen?”</p> - -<p>“Very valuable, I dare say,” said June, bringing him -to earth.</p> - -<p>“I only know it’s good.”</p> - -<p>“But surely if it’s good it’s valuable? What do you -think it might be worth?”</p> - -<p>“Miss June,”—the queer little tremble in his voice -sounded divine—“don’t let us think of it as money.”</p> - -<p>But at those hushed words, at the far-off look in the -deep eyes, she felt once more a touch of pain.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si would call that sentiment. He believes -that money is the most important thing there is; he -believes it is the only thing that matters.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span></p> - -<p>She meant it as a facer for this Sawney, who had declared -to her that Uncle Si could neither think wrong -nor ensue it. A hit, shrewd and fair, but the Sawney -was still in business.</p> - -<p>“In a manner of speaking, it may be so. But I am -sure the master will tell you there are things money -can’t buy.”</p> - -<p>“What are they?” June’s frown was the fiercer for -the effort to repress it.</p> - -<p>“Take this glint of sun striking through that wonderful -cloud. All the money in the world couldn’t buy -that.”</p> - -<p>“Of course it could. And I don’t suppose it would -take much to buy it either.”</p> - -<p>He solemnly dissented. She asked why not.</p> - -<p>“Because,” said he, “that bit of sunlight only exists -in the eye that sees it.”</p> - -<p>“That’s sentiment,” said June severely. “You -might say the same of anything.”</p> - -<p>“You might, of course. Nothing is, but thinking -makes it so.”</p> - -<p>Again June heard the queer little tremble in his -voice, again she saw that strange look steal across his -face.</p> - -<p>“What you say sounds very deep, but if you talk in -that way I’m quite sure you’ll never get on in the -world.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll be quite happy to live as I am, if only I’m allowed -to see the wonderful things that are in it.”</p> - -<p>June had a fierce desire to shake him, but he beamed -upon her, and she became a lamb.</p> - -<p>“On Saturday,” he said, “when we go to our little -treasure house, you will see what I mean.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p> - -<p>“If you talk in this way,” said June once more severe, -“I shall not go with you on Saturday to your little -treasure house. Or on Sunday either. Or on any day -of the week. If you were a millionaire, you could -afford to be fanciful. Being what you are, and your -salary less than half what it should be, I really think -you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”</p> - -<p>She was a little astonished at her own vehemence. -He seemed a little astonished at it also.</p> - -<p>“Nothing is, but thinking makes it so,” said June, -with fine scorn. “That’s what Mr. Boultby, the druggist -at the bottom of our street at home, would call -poppycock. It means you’ll be very lucky if some fine -morning you don’t wake up and find yourself in the -workhouse.”</p> - -<p>One smile more he gave her out of his deep eyes.</p> - -<p>“That sort of talk,” said June, with growing fierceness, -“is just <i>potty</i>. It won’t find you tools and a place -to work in, or three meals a day, and a bed at night.”</p> - -<p>“But don’t you see what I mean?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t. As I say, to my mind it’s potty. But -now tell me, what do you think this picture’s worth if -you were buying it for Uncle Si to sell again?”</p> - -<p>“That is a very difficult question to answer. The -master is so clever at selling things that he might get a -big price for it in the market.”</p> - -<p>“Even without the signature?” And June fixed the -eye of a hawk on the young man’s face.</p> - -<p>“I don’t say that. The signature might make a lot -of difference to a dealer. But don’t let us talk of the -price. There are things in this picture that money -ought not to buy.”</p> - -<p>An impatient “Poppycock!” all but escaped Mr.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span> -Boultby’s disciple. Yet of a sudden, in a fashion so -unexpected as to verge upon drama, her own voice took -that soft quick fall he had taught her the trick of.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you how much I love it,” she said, -dreamily. “I would give almost anything if it were -mine.”</p> - -<p>William’s limpid glance betrayed that he was only -too happy to believe her.</p> - -<p>“It is quite as beautiful to me as it is to you.” June -plunged on, but she did not dare to look at him. “And -I think it would be a terrible pity if it ever came to be -sold by Uncle Si. I simply love it. Suppose you sell -it to me?”</p> - -<p>“To you, Miss June!”</p> - -<p>“Yes—to me.” There was swift decision and the -fixing of the will. “I like it so much that I’ll give you -nineteen pounds for it, and that’s all I have in the -world.”</p> - -<p>William was astonished.</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t realised,” he said, in charmed surprise, -“that you admire it so much as all that.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do admire it.” Her heart beat fast and high. -“And I want it. I can’t tell you just what that picture -means to me. But nineteen pounds is all I can pay.”</p> - -<p>He shook his head in slow finality.</p> - -<p>She did not try to conceal her disappointment.</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t think of taking a penny of your money,” -he said, shyly. “But as you love it so much, I hope -you will allow me to give it you.”</p> - -<p>She gave a little gasp. An act of such pure generosity -was rather staggering.</p> - -<p>“I hope you will, Miss June.” He spoke with a delicious -embarrassment. “Loving it so much really<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span> -makes it yours. To love a thing is to possess it. And -I shall always have the happiness of feeling that it has -made you happy.”</p> - -<p>She turned away a face glowing with shame. She -could never hope to feel about it in the way that he did, -and it seemed almost wicked to deceive him. But a -young man so poor as he could not afford to be so simple; -and she soothed her conscience by telling herself -what she was now doing was for his future good.</p> - -<p>Conscience, however, was not to be put out of action -that way. The part she was playing hurt like a scald -on the hand. Both their tongues were tied by the pause -which followed, and then she said in a weak, halting -manner that was not like her: “You must have something -in exchange for it, of course—not that I shall -ever be able to offer anything near its true value.”</p> - -<p>“I ask no more than what you have given me already.”</p> - -<p>“What have I given you?”</p> - -<p>“You have given me the wonderful look I see sometimes -in your face, and the light that springs from your -eyes and the glow of your hair. When you came to -this house, you brought something with you that was -never in it before.”</p> - -<p>“How funny you are!” June’s cheek was a flame. -But he spoke so impersonally, delicately weighing each -word before a passion of sincerity gave it birth, that -any effective form of rebuke was out of the question.</p> - -<p>“Miss June,” this amazing fellow went on, speaking -for all the world as if she were a picture whose signature -he was looking for, “when you came here, you -brought the sun of beauty. Colour and harmony and -grace, you brought those too. If only I knew how to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> -paint,”—he sighed gently,—“I could never rest until I -had put you on canvas just as you stand at this -moment.”</p> - -<p>It was clear that he had forgotten completely that -this was the niece of his employer. She also forgot -that no young man had ventured yet to speak to her -like that. This was William the wonderful who was -addressing her, and his voice was music, his eyes slow -fire, his whole being a golden web of poetry and romance.</p> - -<p>“You oughtn’t to give away such a thing,” she -persisted, but with none of her usual force. “It’s -valuable; and I oughtn’t to take it.” The sound of -her voice, she knew only too well, was thin and -strange.</p> - -<p>“Please, please take it, Miss June,” he quaintly entreated -her. “It will give me more pleasure to know -that you are caring for it, and that its beauty speaks to -you than if I kept it all to myself. I love it, but you -love it, too. If you’ll share the happiness it brings me, -then I shall love it even more.”</p> - -<p>Shadows of the evening were now in the room. His -face was half hidden, and the wildness of her heart -scarcely allowed his voice to be heard. She thought -no longer of the worth of the gift, nor was she now -concerned with the propriety of its acceptance. Her -mind was in the grip of other things. Was it to herself -he was speaking? Or was he speaking merely -to a fellow worshipper of beauty? To such questions -there could be no answer; she trembled at the daring -which gave them birth.</p> - -<p>His mere presence was a lure. She longed to touch -his hand very gently, and would perhaps have done<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span> -so, had she not been cruelly aware that even the hem of -her sleeve would defile it. She was cheating him, she -was cheating him outrageously. The only excuse she -had was that it was all for his own good; such, at least, -must now be her prayer, her hope, her faith.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> next morning Foxy Face, true to the appointment -he had made with S. Gedge Antiques, came -at ten o’clock with a friend. A quarter before that -hour William had been sent to the King’s Road, Chelsea, -in quest of a Jacobean carving-table for which -his master had a customer.</p> - -<p>June, in anticipation of the event, took care to be -busy in a distant corner of the shop when these gentlemen -arrived. As on the occasion of Louis Quinze-legs’ -previous visit, Uncle Si lost no time in going himself -to fetch the picture, but his prompt return was -fraught for June with bitter disappointment. By sheer -ill luck, as it seemed, his stern eye fell on her at the -very moment he gave the picture to Mr. Thornton’s -friend, a morose-looking man in a seedy frock coat -and a furry topper.</p> - -<p>“Niece,” sharply called S. Gedge Antiques, “go and -do your dusting somewhere else.”</p> - -<p>There was no help for it. June could almost have -shed tears of vexation, but she had to obey. The most -she dared venture in the way of appeasing a curiosity -that had grown terrific was to steal back on tiptoe a -few minutes later, to retrieve a pot of furniture polish -she had been clever enough to leave behind. Like a -mouse she crept back for it, but Uncle Si flashed upon -her such a truculent eye that, without trying to catch a -word that was passing, she simply fled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p> - -<p>Fear seized her. She felt sure that she had seen -the last of the picture. Her distrust of S. Gedge Antiques -had become so great that she was now convinced -that money would tempt him to anything. Twenty -miserable minutes she spent wondering what she must -do if the picture was disposed of there and then. She -tried to steel her heart against the fact, now looming -inevitable, that she would never see it again.</p> - -<p>At last the visitors left the shop. June then discovered -that her fears had carried her rather too far, -and that for the time being, at any rate, Uncle Si had -been done an injustice.</p> - -<p>He shambled slowly into the kitchen and to June’s -intense relief the picture was in his hand.</p> - -<p>“Niece,” he said, threatfully; “understand once for -all that I won’t have you hanging about the shop when -I am doing business with important customers.”</p> - -<p>The sight of the picture was so much more important -than the words which came out of his mouth that June -felt inclined to treat them lightly.</p> - -<p>“I’m telling you,” said the old man fiercely. “Mark -what I say. I won’t have females listening with their -mouths open when I’m doing business. And don’t -laugh at me, else you’ll have to pack your box. Here!” -Uncle Si handed her the picture with a scowl. “Take -this back to where it came from; and just remember -what’s been said to you, or you’ll find yourself short -of a week’s pocket money.”</p> - -<p>Adjured thus, June was a model of discretion for -the rest of that day; and yet she was the prey of a -devouring curiosity. She would have given much to -know what had taken place in the course of the morning’s -traffic with Louis Quinze-legs and his friend. It<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span> -was not until supper-time that she was able to gather -a clue, when Uncle Si mentioned the matter to William. -He was careful to do so, however, in the most casual -way.</p> - -<p>“By the way, boy,” said the old man gravely balancing -a piece of cheese on the end of his knife, and fixing -June with his eye as he did so; “that daub of yours—I’ve -had Mr. Thornton here to look at it.”</p> - -<p>“I hope he liked it, sir,” said William, with his eager -smile.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si pursed his mouth. Then he went through -the rest of his performance, which on this occasion -ended in a noise through closed lips like a hornet’s -drone, which might have meant anything.</p> - -<p>June felt an insane desire to give the old wretch a -punch on his long and wicked nose.</p> - -<p>“What did he think of the cloud?” asked William. -“And the light of the sun striking through on to the -water?”</p> - -<p>“He says it’s very rough and dirty, and in bad condition, -but if I could buy it for two pounds he might -be able to show me a small profit.”</p> - -<p>“I should think so,” murmured June, holding a glass -of water in suspense.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si laid down his knife and looked at her.</p> - -<p>“You <i>think</i> so, niece,” he snarled. “Have the goodness -to mind your own affairs, or you and I will quarrel. -That’s twice to-day I’ve had to speak to you.”</p> - -<p>June covered a retreat from the impossible position -strong feelings had led her into by emptying her glass -in one fierce draught.</p> - -<p>“You see, boy,” said Uncle Si, turning to William -with a confidential air, “this—this <i>picture</i>.”—It seemed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span> -a great concession on his part to allow that the thing -was a picture at all—“is without a signature. That -makes it almost valueless.”</p> - -<p>William smiled and gently shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Beg your pardon, sir, but it is signed in every line.”</p> - -<p>“Rubbish. No theorising—this is a business proposition. -And I tell you that without the signature, this -bit of pretty-pretty just amounts to nix.” The old man -gave his fingers a contemptuous snap. “That’s what -it amounts to. But as you’ve taken the trouble to bring -it all the way from Suffolk and you’ve spent a certain -amount of your master’s time in trying to get it clean, -as I say, I’ll spring a couple of pounds to encourage -you. But why I should I really don’t know.”</p> - -<p>June was hard-set to refrain from breaking the peace -which followed, with the laugh of derision. Happily, -by a triumph of will power, she bridled her tongue and -kept her eyes modestly upon her plate.</p> - -<p>“Now, boy!” Uncle Si made a series of conjuror’s -passes with his spectacles. “Two pounds! Take it -or leave it! What do you say?”</p> - -<p>William did not say anything, yet one of his shy -smiles was winged to June across the table. She -promptly sent back a scowl quite feral in its truculence, -which yet was softened by a world of eloquence and -humour behind it. There was no other way of intimating -that Uncle Si must not learn too soon that the -picture was now hers.</p> - -<p>William, no fool, if he chose to use his wits, was -able to interpret this wireless. Thus he began to temporise; -and he did so in a way delightfully his own.</p> - -<p>“What difference, sir, do you think the signature -would make to our little masterpiece?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p> - -<p>The old man gave his assistant a look almost superhuman -in its caution.</p> - -<p>“Heh?” said he.</p> - -<p>The question was repeated.</p> - -<p>“Depends whose it is,” was the testy answer. “You -know that as well as I do. If it’s Hobbema’s, it might -be worth money.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t Hobbema’s.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said S. Gedge Antiques. “Interesting to -know that.” Had he been on winking terms with his -niece, he would have winked at her; as it was, he had -to be content with a sarcastic glance at the tablecloth. -“But how do you know?” he added, idly careless.</p> - -<p>“Anyone can see it isn’t.”</p> - -<p>Anyone could not see it wasn’t a Hobbema, and that -was the snag in the mind of the old man at this moment. -Neither Mr. Thornton nor his friend, Mr. Finch, was -quite certain it was not a Hobbema; they were even -inclined to think that it was one, but in the absence of -proof they were not disposed to gamble upon it.</p> - -<p>“How do you mean, boy, that anyone can see it -isn’t?”</p> - -<p>“That gleam of sunlight, sir.” The voice of William -was music and poetry in the ear of June. “I doubt -whether even Hobbema could have painted that.”</p> - -<p>“You tell that to the Marines,” said S. Gedge Antiques -impatiently. All the same he knew better than -to discourage William in the process of unbosoming -himself. The young man was continually betraying -such a knowledge of a difficult and abstruse subject that -it was becoming a source of wonder to his master. -“Maybe you’ve found somebody else’s signature?” -The tone was half a sneer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, I rather think I have,” said William -quite calmly and simply.</p> - -<p>“You have!” A sudden excitement fused the cold -voice. “When did you find it?”</p> - -<p>“It would be about half an hour ago.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, indeed!” said the old man.</p> - -<p>This queer fellow’s casual tone was extremely puzzling. -Why should he be inclined to apologise for having -discovered the name of the artist, when it was of -such vital importance? The only possible explanation -of the mystery at once presented itself to the astute -mind which asked the question.</p> - -<p>“Then I expect you’ve been a fool. If you couldn’t -find Hobbema’s signature you had no right to find the -signature of anyone else.”</p> - -<p>William was out of his depth. He could only regard -his master with eyes of bewilderment. But June was -not out of hers; she was careful, all the same, not to -regard Uncle Si with eyes of any kind. She merely -regarded her plate. And as she did so, a little shiver -that was almost pain ran through her. Uncle Si was -such a deep one that she felt ashamed of knowing how -deep he was.</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand, sir,” said William, in the way -that only he could have spoken.</p> - -<p>“Boy,” said his master, “you make me tired. In -some ways you are clever, but in others you are just -the biggest idiot that ever happened. I should have -thought a child would have known that this has either -got to be a Hobbema or it has got to be nothing. The -best thing you can do is to go upstairs right now and -take out that signature.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p> - -<p>“But I understood you to say, sir, that the picture -has no market value without a signature.”</p> - -<p>“No more it has, you fool. But there may be those -who think it’s a Hobbema. And if there are, it is up -to us to help them to keep on thinking.”</p> - -<p>June hung breathlessly on every word that passed. -She watched William shake his head in slow and grave -perplexity.</p> - -<p>“But anybody can see that it isn’t a Hobbema.”</p> - -<p>“Anybody can’t,” said the old man. “Mr. Thornton -can’t for one, and he’s a pretty good judge, as a rule. -Mr. Finch is more doubtful, but even he wouldn’t like -to swear to it.”</p> - -<p>William shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Boy, you are a fool. You are getting too clever; -you are getting above your trade. Go at once and take -out that signature, whatever it may be, provided it -isn’t Hobbema’s, and I’ll give you two pounds for the -thing as it stands. And let me tell you two pounds is -money.”</p> - -<p>William shook his head a little more decisively.</p> - -<p>“I’d have to paint out the trees,” he said, “and the -water, and that cloud, and that gleam of sunlight before -I could begin to touch the signature.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a Van Roon,” said William, in a voice so gentle -that he might have been speaking to himself.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques laid his knife on his plate with a -clatter. He gave an excited snort. “Van Fiddlestick!”</p> - -<p>William’s smile grew so intense that June could -hardly bear to look at him.</p> - -<p>“Every inch of it,” said William, “and there are not -so many, is Van Roon.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> - -<p>“Why, there are only about a dozen Van Roons in -existence,” said the old man, a queer little shake coming -into his voice.</p> - -<p>“There’s one more now, sir.” William’s own voice -was curiously soft.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">“I</span>f</span> you go on like this,” said S. Gedge Antiques, -after a pause, full of drama, “you will have to -have a cold compress put on your head. Do you mean -to tell me you have actually found the signature?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” said William, “right down in the corner -about half an hour ago.”</p> - -<p>“Then why didn’t you say so instead of keeping it -all to yourself?”</p> - -<p>“Because it doesn’t seem half so important as the -other things I’ve found.”</p> - -<p>“What other things?”</p> - -<p>“The trees and the water and that——”</p> - -<p>“We’ve heard more than enough about those. Here -have you been rubbing for that signature for the best -part of a fortnight, and you pretend to have found a -Van Roon, and you keep it as close as the tomb.”</p> - -<p>“I had found Van Roon, sir, long before I came upon -his name.”</p> - -<p>“Rubbish! What do you know of Van Roon?”</p> - -<p>“There is a Van Roon in the treasure house in the -Square,” said William with his inward smile.</p> - -<p>“There’s only one,” snapped S. Gedge Antiques, “in -the treasure house in the Square, as you call it, and it’s -a very small one, too.”</p> - -<p>“Ours is very small, sir. All Van Roons are small. -And they are very scarce.”</p> - -<p>“They are so scarce, my friend, that you’ll never -convince anybody that ours is genuine.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p> - -<p>“There’s no need, sir, provided you know it is yourself.”</p> - -<p>“But that’s just what I don’t know,” said the old -man. “Anyhow you had better go upstairs and fetch -it. I’ll have a look at the signature of Mynheer Van -Roon.” And then Uncle Si scowled at his niece who, -in a state of growing excitement, had already begun to -remove the bread and cheese from the supper table.</p> - -<p>While the young man went up to the attic, his master -ruminated.</p> - -<p>“Fellow’s cracked,” he declared, a hostile eye still -fixed upon June. “That’s his trouble. I’ll never be -able to make anything of him. This comes of Hobbemaising. -Van Fiddlestick!”</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si,” said June, in the voice of a dove, “if -it is a Van Roon, what is the value of it?”</p> - -<p>“Heh?” growled Uncle Si, and his eye became that -of a kite. “Never you mind. Get on with the clearing -of that table, and don’t interfere. I never knew such -creatures as women for minding other people’s business. -But I can tell you this, only a born fool would -talk of Van Roon.”</p> - -<p>A born fool came down the stairs at that moment, -the picture in one hand, a microscope in the other.</p> - -<p>“It’s not a very good light, sir—” William’s voice -trembled a little—“but I think if you hold it up to the -gas, you will be able to see the signature right down in -the corner. Just there, sir, along by my thumb.”</p> - -<p>The old man, glass in hand, brought a close scrutiny -to bear upon the spot along by William’s thumb. Then -he shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No, it is just as I thought. There doesn’t begin to -be the sign of a signature.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span></p> - -<p>“Don’t you see the upstroke of the R?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t I see the leg of my grandmother!”</p> - -<p>“Just there, sir. Round by the edge of my finger -nail.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques solemnly exchanged his “selling” -spectacles for his “buying” ones, screwed up his -eyes and grunted: “Why, that’s the tail of a Q, you -fool.” Again he took up the microscope and made -prodigious play with it. “That’s if it’s anything. -Which I take leave to doubt.”</p> - -<p>William, however, was not to be moved. And then -Uncle Si’s manner had a bad relapse. He began to -bully. William, all the same, stuck to his guns with a -gentle persistence that June could only admire. This -odd but charming fellow would have Van Roon, or he -would have none.</p> - -<p>At last the old man laid the microscope on the supper -table, and there came into his cunning, greedy eyes -what June called the “old crocodile” look. “If you’ll -take my advice, boy, you’ll turn that R into an A, and -you’ll make that upstroke a bit longer, so that it can -stand for an H, and you’ll touch up those blurs in the -middle, so that ordinary common people will really be -able to see that it <i>is</i> a Hobbema. Now what do you -say?”</p> - -<p>William shook a silent, rather mournful, head.</p> - -<p>“If you’ll do that, you shall have five pounds for it. -That’s big money for a daub for which you paid five -shillings, but Mr. Thornton says American buyers are -in the market, and with Hobbemas in short supply, they -might fall for a thing like this. But of course the job -must be done well.”</p> - -<p>William was still silent.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span></p> - -<p>“Now what do you say, boy?” The Old Crocodile -was unable to conceal his eagerness. “Shall we say -five pounds as it stands? We’ll leave out the question -of the signature. Mr. Thornton shall deal with that. -Now what do you say? Five pounds for it now?”</p> - -<p>William did not speak. It was at the tip of June’s -tongue to relieve his embarrassment by claiming the -picture as her own; but, luckily, she remembered that -to do so just now might have an effect opposite to the -one intended. Even as it was, she could not refrain -from making a “mouth” at William to tell him to stand -firm.</p> - -<p>He saw the “mouth,” but unfortunately so did Uncle -Si. There were few things escaped the old man when -he happened to be wearing his “buying” spectacles.</p> - -<p>“Niece, you cut off to bed,” he said sternly. “And -you must learn not to butt in, or one of these days -you’ll bite granite.”</p> - -<p>June showed no desire to obey, but Uncle Si, with -a look set and dour, shuffled as far as the parlour door -and opened it. “No more of it, my girl.” The voice -was full of menace.</p> - -<p>One further instant June hesitated. The picture had -been given to her, and the right and proper course was -to claim it. But this daughter of the midlands was -afraid of a false move. The revelation sprang to the -tip of her tongue, yet a mysterious power seemed to -hold it back. She may have expected help from William, -but he, alas, seemed too much occupied in proving -his case to be able to give a moment’s thought to the -picture’s ownership.</p> - -<p>“Off to bed with you.” The old man’s voice was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span> -now savage. “Or—!” There was a world of meaning -in the strangled threat.</p> - -<p>June climbed up to her attic with the best grace she -could, her thunderbolt unlaunched. As slowly she -undressed by the uncertain light of one poor candle, -she felt very unhappy. Not only was there something -unpleasant, one might almost say wicked, about Uncle -Si, but his manner held a power of menace which fed -her growing fear.</p> - -<p>What <i>was</i> there to be afraid of? As she blew out -the candle and leapt into the meagre, rickety bed which -had lumps in the middle, that was the question she put -to a rather stricken conscience. To ask the question -was not to answer it; a fact she learnt after she had -said her prayers in which Uncle Si was dutifully included. -Perhaps the root of the mischief was that the -old man was so horridly deceitful. While he held the -picture up to the light, and he gazed at it through the -microscope, she fancied that she had seen the devil -peeping out of him. In a vivid flash she had caught -the living image of the Hoodoo. And June was as -certain as that her pillow was hard, that cost what it -might he had made up his mind to get possession of the -treasure.</p> - -<p>At the same time, she lacked the knowledge to enter -fully into the niceties of the case. The picture might -be a thing of great value; on the other hand it might -not. She was not in a position to know; yet she was -quite sure that William in spite of his cleverness was -in some ways a perfect gaby, and that his master was -out to take advantage of the fact.</p> - -<p>As she sought in vain for a soft place in her comfortless -bed, she was inclined to admire her own astuteness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span> -in persuading William to bestow the picture upon -herself. It was for the Sawney’s own sake, that at -least was how she chose to view the transaction now. -But a sense of vague triumph was dashed by the -thought lurking at the back of her mind. Uncle Si -was bound to get the picture from the feckless William -somehow; indeed the young man, being as clay -in the hands of his master, she was soon besieged with -a fear that he had parted with it already.</p> - -<p>The slow passing of the tardy minutes gave form -and pressure to this spectre. With an excitement that -grew and grew she listened intently for William ascending -to the room next door. Soon or late she would -hear his feet on the carpetless stairs; but to one burning -with impatience it seemed that an age had to pass.</p> - -<p>At last came the sounds for which she was so expectantly -listening. The door of the next room was -softly closed. What had happened? Was the picture -still in his keeping? To lie all night with that question -unanswered was more than she could bear. Suddenly -she jumped out of bed, flung a macintosh over her -white nightdress, so that the proprieties might be observed, -thrust her feet into slippers and then knocked -upon William’s door.</p> - -<p>It was opened at once.</p> - -<p>“Why, Miss June!” Astonishment was in the tone. -“Are you ill?”</p> - -<p>“The picture?” said June, in quick whisper, so that -Uncle Si should not hear. “You haven’t left it downstairs, -I hope?”</p> - -<p>Laughing gently, William half turned from the -threshold and pointed to a small table in the middle of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span> -the room, on which lay the treasure with a bit of candle -burning beside it.</p> - -<p>A deep sigh expressed June’s relief. “Please give it -to me. I will lock it up in my box for safety.”</p> - -<p>He smiled at her eagerness, and declared that it -was quite all right where it was. Besides, another -week’s work was needed to give the last touches to the -delicate process of cleaning. June, whose careful bringing-up -would not allow her to enter the room in such -circumstances, tried from its threshold to make clear -that the picture was already clean enough for her. But -William was not to be moved. Many exquisite details yet -called for the labours of a true lover.</p> - -<p>“Well, you must promise,” whispered June finally, -“to take <i>enormous</i> care of it. You must promise not -to let it out of your sight for a single moment.”</p> - -<p>William hesitated to give this pledge. It appeared -that his master wanted to show the picture to a friend; -a fact which did but serve to confirm June in her suspicions. -But she had the wisdom not to put them into -words. She was content to affirm once more that the -picture was now hers and that she would not trust -<i>anyone</i> with a thing of such value.</p> - -<p>“But I’d trust the master with my life,” said William -softly.</p> - -<p>June felt that she would like to beat him for his -innocence, as her manner plainly showed. In some -things he was almost too simple to live.</p> - -<p>Suddenly she gave him a stern good-night, and -abruptly closed the door. But it was long after Saint -Martin’s Church had struck the hour of two that sleep -visited her pillow.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> next day was Saturday; and as the shop -closed at one, June prepared to keep her promise -of accompanying William to his “treasure house.” -Strategy was needed, all the same. After she had -washed up, she put on her “going out” dress. But when -she came downstairs in it, Uncle Si, who took a most -unwelcome interest in all her movements, inquired -what was in the wind.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to look at a hat,” was the answer, bland -and cool.</p> - -<p>“Going to look <i>at</i> a hat!” To the mind of Uncle Si -it was an unheard-of proceeding. “Next thing you’ll -be wanting to buy a hat.”</p> - -<p>June confessed that it might be so.</p> - -<p>“You’ve got one already, haven’t you? Besides, the -shops won’t be open.”</p> - -<p>The good shops might not be open, June allowed. -But she was not seeking a good hat. The article to -which her fancy turned was for every-day use; yet -when all was said it was a mere blind. She did not -really intend to buy a hat, but she certainly meant if -possible, to throw dust in the eyes of the Old Crocodile. -Had he been able to guess that she was going with -William to the National Gallery he would have banned -the expedition.</p> - -<p>In order to stand well with her conscience and not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span> -be a story teller in the eyes of the world, June walked -as far as the Strand, and carefully inspected the window -of a cheap milliner’s. And then, as arranged, she -met William as the clocks were striking three at the -Charing Cross corner of Trafalgar Square.</p> - -<p>It was a glorious September afternoon. And for -June it was an exquisite if brief escape from servitude. -She had yet to see William apart from the shop, yet -now, as she came upon him standing by the post office, -she was quite struck by his appearance. Tall and slight -of form, he carried himself well, his neat suit of blue -serge, old though it was in the revealing light of the -sun, was brushed with scrupulous care, and his large -flowing tie which he had the art of tying in a way of -his own, made him look so interesting that June secretly -was rather proud of being seen in his company. For -undeniably he was handsome. In fact, standing there -straight, alert and smiling upon the world, he had a -look of mysterious charm which in the eye of one beholder -raised him above the run of men.</p> - -<p>At the sight of June, he lifted his old straw hat with -a little air of homage, and also with a slight blush that -became him adorably. And in his mood there was a -poetry that delighted her, although she was careful -not to let him know it.</p> - -<p>“How wonderful it all is!” He waved his hand -gaily to the sky. “And to think that every bit of it -belongs to you and me!”</p> - -<p>June, as matter-of-fact a young woman as the city -of Blackhampton had ever produced, felt bound to ask -what William meant by this extravagant remark. -Charmed she was, and yet she was a little scandalised -too.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p> - -<p>“Beauty, beauty everywhere,” said the young man, -letting his voice take its delicious fall. “There was an -old Frenchman who said, that to see Beauty is to possess -it. Look, Miss June, at that marvellous blue, and -those wonderful, wonderful clouds that even Van Roon -himself could hardly have painted. It is all ours, you -know, all for our enjoyment, all for you and me.”</p> - -<p>“But you are speaking of the world, aren’t you?” -There was a slight note of protest in June’s solemn tone.</p> - -<p>“If you fall in love with beauty, all the world is -yours. There’s no escape from beauty so long as the -sky is above us. No matter where we walk we are -face to face with beauty.”</p> - -<p>June was afraid that a girl who looked so smart in -a lilac silk dress and a picture hat that she had the -air of a fashion plate must have caught William’s injudicious -observation. At any rate, she smiled at him -as they passed. But then arose the question, had he -not first smiled at her? Certainly, to be up against that -intriguing frock, to say nothing of the hat, must have -meant rare provocation for such an out-and-out lover -of the ornamental.</p> - -<p>Miss Grandeur, no doubt, had caught the look in his -eyes which a minute ago June herself had surprised -there. He simply could not help paying tribute to such -radiance.</p> - -<p>But was the girl beautiful? There was no doubt -that William thought so. Still, the worst of it was -that in his eyes everything under the sun was beautiful.</p> - -<p>“She’d be nothing at all if it were not for the money -she spends on herself,” June remarked, with more -severity than relevance.</p> - -<p>All the same it was a rare experience to walk abroad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span> -with William. He had an eye for all things and in -all things he found the thing he sought.</p> - -<p>On the steps of the National Gallery was a majestic -policeman. To June he was but an ordinary symbol -of the law, but for William he had a different message.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, sir!”</p> - -<p>At the compliment of this unwonted style of address, -Constable X drew himself up, and returned the greeting -with a proud smile.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you how grateful we are to you,” said -William, “for taking such care of our treasures.”</p> - -<p>The policeman seemed rather amused. “It’s my job,” -he said, training, at the same time, upon June an eye -of quizzical intelligence. It was odd, yet all in a moment -Constable X had ceased to be a stern-looking -fellow.</p> - -<p>As soon as William crossed the threshold of his -treasure house, a kind of rapture came upon him. His -voice grew hushed. And to June it seemed doubtful -whether he would ever get beyond the Hermes on the -main staircase. Once within this palace of many enchantments, -he began to lose all sense of time and -place; and, in spite of the fact that he was the soul of -chivalry, he even seemed in danger of forgetting that -he was accompanied by a lady.</p> - -<p>Troubled at last by the silence of her escort, June -gently observed: “This place seems nearly as big as -the Blackhampton Art Museum.”</p> - -<p>To William’s fine perception it was a delicate reminder -that art is eternal, and that in the month of September -the National Gallery closes at six.</p> - -<p>The young man sighed deeply and turned away from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span> -the Hermes. Up the main staircase they walked side -by side.</p> - -<p>“Keep straight on, Miss June. If we glance to the -right or the left, we may not get to the Van Roon before -next Saturday.”</p> - -<p>“We!” was June’s thought. “Better speak for yourself. -In the Blackhampton Art Museum we have things -far nicer than a few old chipped statues.” Happily, for -the time being at least, it remained a thought without -words.</p> - -<p>They went through a room on the right, and then -into an inner room. June was led to its farthest corner, -and proudly marshalled into the presence of an object -so small, and so insignificant, that she felt it was -really surprising that even William should attach the -least importance to it.</p> - -<p>However, a mere glance proved that it was not so -surprising after all. The picture contained a cloud, -a tree, some water and a windmill. And these objects -in themselves so trivial, yet sufficed, as June had learned -already, to raise William at any time to the seventh -heaven of bliss.</p> - -<p>A moment’s inspection of the picture was enough for -June. To her mind the work was quite commonplace. -Yet William stood in front of it in an attitude of silent -adoration, his head a little to one side, and apparently -holding his breath for such a long period that June began -to wonder how the trick was done. She was bound -in honour to share this silent ecstasy, but having varied -the proceedings a little by standing first on her right -foot, and then on her left, she decided at last to throw -up her part.</p> - -<p>Very gently she put an end to William’s reverie.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span></p> - -<p>“I think I will sit down,” said June.</p> - -<p>“Please, please do!” The queer fellow came back -with a start to the world of reality. “Let us sit over -there on the corner of that sofa. Perhaps we may be -able to see it even better then than we do now.”</p> - -<p>To the sofa they went accordingly and to June’s discomfiture -her mentor was at pains to dispose them both -in a way that should enable them to keep the picture in -their eye. June had no wish to keep the picture in her -eye. She had had more than enough of it already. -Besides, the large room was full of things vastly more -imposing, much better worth looking at. But William, -even seated on the sofa by her side, was still in thrall -to this remarkable work.</p> - -<p>There is no saying how long June’s trial would have -lasted, but after it had gone on for a length of time -that began to seem interminable, it came to an end in -the most abrupt and dramatic way. Without any -kind of warning, a strange appearance swam into their -ken. Uncle Si, looking spruce and businesslike, and -much better dressed than usual, entered the room -through the door behind them.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> held her breath, while S. Gedge Antiques with -thought for nothing save the object that had -brought him there, made a bee-line for the picture at -which William was still solemnly staring. The old -man put on his spectacles. Whether they were his -“buying” or his “selling” ones, June was unable to -decide, but whichever they might be they had an important -function to perform. Uncle Si’s long and foxlike -nose bent so close to the paint that it might have -been smelling it.</p> - -<p>June’s instinct was to flee before they were discovered. -And perhaps she would have urged this -course upon William had not pride said no. She was -in mortal fear of the old man, yet she despised herself -for that emotion. After all, they were doing no wrong -in spending Saturday afternoon in such a very elevated -form of amusement. Surely it devolved upon her to -stand up to this tyrant.</p> - -<p>William, for his part, was without misgiving. -Thinking evil of none, least of all his master, he was -a little awed by that odd arrival, and yet he was unfeignedly -glad of his presence. The simpleton regarded -it as a compliment to himself that S. Gedge -Antiques should take the trouble to come in his own -person to look at the Van Roon.</p> - -<p>At last S. Gedge Antiques turned away from the -Van Roon, and little suspecting who were so near<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span> -to him, came full upon William and June seated together -upon the adjacent sofa. For a moment it was -as if a feather would have knocked him down. He -could trust his eyes so little that he hastily changed -his spectacles.</p> - -<p>“What!” His brow was thunder. “You! Here!”</p> - -<p>June, ready to carry the war into the country of the -enemy, was prepared to offer a cool “Why not?” -Happily, a second and wiser thought led her to await -developments. Secretly, Uncle Si was in a pretty rage -as June could tell by the look of him. But he was -not one to let his feelings override his judgment. -Whatever they were, they could keep. He had come -there for a particular purpose; this afternoon he was -bent on business only.</p> - -<p>In the rasping voice which made June think of a -file and sandpaper, S. Gedge Antiques remarked: “Still -Hobbemaising, eh?”</p> - -<p>William modestly admitted that he hoped Miss June -would have a look at The Avenue.</p> - -<p>“Let’s hope she’ll be the better for it.” The old man -did his best to be polite. “It will improve her mind, no -doubt.”</p> - -<p>“But we have come to see the Van Roon, sir,” said -William impulsively.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you have.” There was a sudden narrowing of -foxy eyes. “Seems to me, boy, you’ve got Van Roon -on the brain.”</p> - -<p>William could not help laughing at his master’s tone -of playfulness, but June did not laugh. She knew but -too well that as far as Uncle Si was concerned, Van -Roon was an exceedingly serious matter.</p> - -<p>“You are wise, boy”—the old man tried very hard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span> -to keep the sneer out of his voice—“to come and find -out what a Van Roon really looks like.”</p> - -<p>William modestly said that he thought he knew that -already.</p> - -<p>His master shook the head of wisdom. “Judging -by the way you’ve been going on lately I take leave to -doubt it. If you can trace the slightest resemblance to -that thing of ours”—as Uncle Si half turned to point -to the picture, June noticed that he was careful to say -“ours”—“I’m afraid, boy, you’re qualifying for Colney -Hatch.”</p> - -<p>William laughed gaily at his master’s humour. He -felt bound in honour to do so, since the jokes from that -quarter were thin and few. But June did not laugh. -Something cold, subtle, deadly, was creeping into her -heart.</p> - -<p>The old fox struck an attitude before the Van Roon. -“How a man who has his wits can compare that daub -of ours with this acknowledged masterpiece passes me -altogether.”</p> - -<p>As a fact, William had not exactly compared his -Crowdham Market purchase with Number 2020 in the -official catalogue. He had merely affirmed that it was -by the same hand.</p> - -<p>June was privileged to hear great argument. And -as at her birth a kind fairy had bestowed the gift -of penetration upon her, she listened to all that passed -with a fixity of mind that was almost painful. Carefully -weighing the pros and the cons as they were -advanced, she was fully determined to get a real insight -into the merits of a most singular and perplexing -matter.</p> - -<p>Who was in the right? It was the opinion of William<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span> -against the opinion of Uncle Si. From the first -she had had horrid doubts of the old man’s sincerity, -yet she must not prejudge so grave an issue. Account -must be taken, moreover, of the entire range of William’s -fantastic ideas. The thought was not pleasant, -but on the face of it, Uncle Si was likely to be far the -safer guide of the two.</p> - -<p>As June listened, however, to the wheedling sneers -of the one and the forthright tone of the other, almost -too transparent in its honesty, she could only conclude -that Uncle Si was deliberately cheapening William’s -discovery for purposes of his own.</p> - -<p>Looking at the masterpiece on the opposite wall, with -what June was only too keenly aware were the eyes -of ignorance, it was impossible to deny an extraordinary -similarity of subject and treatment. And this, -as she perceived at once, was where Uncle Si overdid -it. He would not allow that to the vision of a technical -expert, the possession of which he did not scruple -now to claim for himself, there was the slightest resemblance. -Such similarities as might exist on the -surface to delude the untutored eye he explained away -in a flood of words whose force was intended to convince -them both. But he convinced neither. June, -pinning her wits to a plain argument, smiled secretly -as more than once he contradicted himself. William -on the other hand, was not permitted by the love and -reverence he bore his master, to submit his speeches -to the scale. He took his stand upon the divine -instinct that was his by right of birth. Such being the -case he could but gently dissent from the old man. It -was one of his peculiarities that the surer he was, the -more gentle he grew. And therein, as June perceived,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span> -he differed strangely from Uncle Si who could only -render conviction in terms of vehemence.</p> - -<p>Finally, as a clincher, S. Gedge Antiques growled: -“Boy, you talk like a fool!” and head in air, marched -with the aid of his knobby walking stick out of -William’s treasure house.</p> - -<p>William and June having stood to talk with the old -man, now sat down again.</p> - -<p>“Thank goodness he’s gone!” said June.</p> - -<p>William confessed that the master had puzzled him -considerably.</p> - -<p>“’Tisn’t like him to close his eyes to the facts of a -case. I can’t think what has happened to the master. -He hardly ever makes a mistake.”</p> - -<p>Said June sagaciously: “Uncle Si being so wise about -most things, isn’t it likely that the mistake is yours?”</p> - -<p>“It may be so,” William allowed. But at once he -added, with a divine simplicity: “I will stake my life, -all the same, Miss June, that our picture is a Van -Roon.”</p> - -<p>“Or a clever forgery, perhaps.”</p> - -<p>“No, no. As sure as you and I sit here, only one -hand painted that little thing of ours.”</p> - -<p>“Then why should Uncle Si declare that it doesn’t in -the least resemble a Van Roon?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, that I don’t know. It is very strange that he -should be so blind to the truth. As I say, it is the first -time I have known it to happen.”</p> - -<p>“It may be,” said June, “that this is the first time -there has been so much money in the case.”</p> - -<p>William dissented gravely. “The master would -never let money influence him in a matter of this kind.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p> - -<p>“Uncle Si lets money influence him in matters of -every kind.”</p> - -<p>William shook his head. “I am afraid you don’t -quite understand the master,” he said, with a wonderful -look in his deep eyes.</p> - -<p>June was too wise to contest the point. He might -know more about pictures than did she, but when it -came to human nature it was another pair of shoes. -It made her quite hot with anger to feel how easily -he could be taken in.</p> - -<p>Sitting by William’s side on the edge of the sofa -she made a vow. From now on it should be her aim -in life to see that Uncle Si did not get the better of -this young man. She had made a good and wise beginning -by inducing him to bestow the picture upon -herself, instead of giving it, as so easily might have -happened, to the Old Crocodile. She knew that some -bad quarters of an hour lay ahead, in the course of -which she and her box might easily find themselves in -the street; but come what might, let her cherish that -picture as if it were life itself. For she saw with a -startling clearness that William’s future, and perhaps -her own, was bound up in its fortunes.</p> - -<p>This surmise as to trouble ahead was borne out very -exactly by events. When accompanied by William she -returned to tea in a state as near positive happiness as -she had ever known, Uncle Si’s aspect was so hostile -that it would not have been surprising had she been -sent packing there and then. The presence of William -helped to restrain the anger of S. Gedge Antiques, -since there was more to lose than to gain just now by -fixing a quarrel upon him; but it was clear that the old -man did not intend to pass over the incident lightly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p> - -<p>“Niece,” he began the moment his cup had been -handed to him, “kindly tell me what you mean by -gallivanting about London.”</p> - -<p>A hot flame of resentment ran in June’s cheek. But -she was too proud to express it otherwise than by -rather elaborately holding her peace. She continued to -pour out tea just as if not a word had been said on the -subject.</p> - -<p>“It’s my fault, sir,” said William, stepping into the -breach chivalrously, but with an absence of tact. “Miss -June very kindly consented to come and look at the -Van Roon.”</p> - -<p>“There must be no more of it.” Miss June received -the full benefit of a north eye. “I will not have you -going about with a young man, least of all a young man -earning fifteen shillings a week in my employ.”</p> - -<p>It was now the turn of William’s cheek to feel the -flame, but it was not in his nature to fight over a thing -of that kind, even had he been in a position to do so. -Besides, it hardly needed his master to tell him that he -had been guilty of presumption.</p> - -<p>Indeed, the circumstances of the case made it almost -impossible for either of the culprits to defend such -conduct in the other’s presence. Yet June, to the intense -astonishment of Uncle Si, and no doubt to her -own, contrived to give battle in hostile territory.</p> - -<p>“I can only say,” she remarked, with a fearlessness -so amazing that Uncle Si scalded his mouth by drinking -out of his cup instead of out of his saucer, “that if -fifteen shillings a week is all that William gets, it is -just about time he had a rise in his wages.”</p> - -<p>For a moment Uncle Si could only splutter. Then -he took off his spectacles and wiped them fiercely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> - -<p>“Gracious goodness me! God bless my body and my -soul!” June would not have been at all surprised had -the old slave-driver “thrown a fit.”</p> - -<p>“William is very clever,” she said undaunted.</p> - -<p>“Niece, hold your tongue.” The words came through -clenched teeth. “And understand, once for all, that -I’ll have no more carryings-on. If you don’t look out, -you’ll find your box in the street.”</p> - -<p>Having put June out of action, the old man turned -his attention to William. But with him he walked -more delicately. There must be no more Van Rooning, -but the ukase was given in a tone so oily that June -just had to smile.</p> - -<p>In spite of his own edict, however, it was clear that -Van Roon continued much in the mind of William’s -master. The next day, Sunday, instead of taking the -air of the west central postal district, his custom as -a rule, when the forenoon was fine, he spent most of -the morning with the young man in the studio. June -felt this boded so ill that she went about her household -chores in a fever of anxiety. She was sure that Uncle -Si had fully made up his mind to have the picture; he -meant, also, to have it at his own price. However, she -had fully made up hers that this tragedy simply must -not occur.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span>, preparing for dinner a Yorkshire pudding, -brought an acute mind to bear on the still graver -problem before it. What would happen when Uncle -Si found out that William had been persuaded to give -her the picture? It was a question she was bound to -ask, yet she dare not foretell the answer. William and -she were completely in his power. Wholly dependent -upon the food and lodging the old man provided and -the few shillings a week with which he grudgingly -supplemented them, they could not afford to come to -an open breach with him; at the same time to June’s -practical mind, it would be an act of sheer madness to -give up the rare thing that fortune had put into their -hands.</p> - -<p>Her need just then was the advice of some able and -disinterested friend. There was only her power of -putting two and two together to tell her that the picture -might be worth a large sum. And even that did not -allow her to know for certain; she must find a means -of making sure. Unhappily, there was not one person -in the world to whom she could turn for advice, unless -it was William himself; and in plain matters of business -he seemed so hopelessly at sea—if they involved dealings -with his master at all events—that June was convinced -he would be no use at all.</p> - -<p>Beating up an egg for the Yorkshire pudding, she -felt a deep concern for what was now taking place up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span> -that second pair of stairs in the garret next the tiles. -Vainly she wished that she had had the sense to ask -William to keep back as long as possible the fact that -he had given the picture to her. But the mere request -would have opened the door to another anxiety. If -the picture was what he thought it was, could such a -gift, made in such circumstances, be regarded as irrevocable? -That must be left to the giver himself to decide: -assuming the simpleton had enough strength of mind -to prevent Uncle Si deciding it for him.</p> - -<p>The pudding was just ready for the oven when she -heard Uncle Si come downstairs. He went into the -parlour, where every Sunday morning, with the help -of the <i>Exchange and Mart</i> and half an ounce of shag, -he spent an hour in meditation. As soon as the door -closed upon the old man, June ran attic-wards to confer -with William.</p> - -<p>There was no beating about the bush. Bursting in -upon him breathlessly, she cried: “I hope you have not -told Uncle Si the picture is mine. I had meant to warn -you not to do so on any account—not for the present, -at least.”</p> - -<p>William looked up from the treasure with his absorbed air; -but it appeared that as yet he had not let -the cat out of the bag.</p> - -<p>“I am very glad.” June breathed freely again.</p> - -<p>“I thought,” said William sadly, “it would be best -not to tell the master until after his dinner. But I fear -that whenever he knows it will upset him terribly.”</p> - -<p>“Why should it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s like this, Miss June—the master is fairly setting -his heart upon this picture.”</p> - -<p>“Then he’d better unset it,” said June harshly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span></p> - -<p>Trouble came unmistakably into the expressive face -of the picture’s late owner.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid it will be quite a blow to him if he -doesn’t get this beautiful thing,” he said, gazing affectionately -at what he held in his hand.</p> - -<p>“And yet he thinks so little of it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh no! Not now. This morning after a careful -examination he’s changed his mind.”</p> - -<p>June was not impressed by this face-about on the -part of S. Gedge Antiques. “If you ask me,” she -declared scornfully, “he changed his mind some time -ago. But he’s a bit too artful to let you know that.”</p> - -<p>“But why?” said William perplexedly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you see that he thinks the more he cheapens -it the easier it will be to get it from you?”</p> - -<p>William could not bring himself to take so harsh a -view.</p> - -<p>“What does he offer for it now?” the new owner of -the Van Roon sternly inquired.</p> - -<p>“You are not fair to the dear old master, believe me, -Miss June.” The young man spoke with charming -earnestness. “He has such a reverence for beauty that -he cannot reckon it in terms of money. This morning -I have brought him to see with my eyes.” Pride and -affection deepened in the voice of the simpleton. “He -has now such a regard for this lovely thing that he will -not be happy until he possesses it, and I shall not be -happy until you have given it to him.”</p> - -<p>June was simply aghast.</p> - -<p>“But—but it was given to me!”</p> - -<p>“I know—I know.” The giver was pink with confusion. -“But you see, Miss June, your uncle has quite -set his heart on it. And I am wondering if you will<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span> -return it to me, so that I may offer it to him, as a -token of my love. No one could have had a better -or kinder master. I owe everything to him.” Suddenly, -however, the young man was aware of her dismay. -“I do hope you will not mind too much,” he said, -anxiously. “If you will allow me, I will give you something -else.”</p> - -<p>June averted her eyes. “You gave me this. And -you can’t believe how much it means to me.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I know you have a great feeling for it. To -part with it will hurt you, I can see that. But please -think of the dear old master’s disappointment if he -doesn’t get it.”</p> - -<p>“He merely wants it to sell again.”</p> - -<p>“You are unjust to yourself, Miss June, in thinking -so. Money does not enter into your feeling about this -beautiful thing; it doesn’t enter into mine. Why should -it enter into the master’s, whose love of art is so intense?”</p> - -<p>“Because his love of money is intenser. It’s his -ruling passion. Where are your eyes that they can’t -see a thing as plain as that?”</p> - -<p>She must be as gentle as she could with this absurd -fellow, yet she feared that such words must cause a -wound. And the wound was wilfully dealt. It was so -important that he should be made to see the whole thing -as really and truly it was. But her hope was slight that -he would ever be brought to do so.</p> - -<p>“I beg you,” he said, almost with passion, “to let -me have it back, so that I may give it to the dear old -master.”</p> - -<p>“It is madness,” said June bitterly. “He has no true -feeling for the picture at all.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p> - -<p>She saw that her words were unwise. They made -her own position worse. But faced by such an appeal -she had to do her best on the spur of the moment.</p> - -<p>“I know how much it means to you.” Pain was -clouding the eyes of this dreamer. “I know your love -for it is equal to mine, but that will make our joy in -giving it to your uncle so much the greater.”</p> - -<p>“But why to Uncle Si—of all people?”</p> - -<p>“He wants it.” William’s voice was low and solemn. -“At this moment, I believe he wants it more than anything -else in the world.”</p> - -<p>June said with scorn: “He wants it as much as he -wants a thousand pounds. And he doesn’t want it -more. I believe money is his god. Think of the fifteen -shilling he pays you a week. It makes my blood boil.”</p> - -<p>A quick flush sprang to the young man’s cheek. -“Money has nothing to do with this, Miss June.”</p> - -<p>“It has to do with everything.”</p> - -<p>Delicately he ventured to contradict. “Where love -is, money doesn’t come in. I simply want to offer this -priceless thing to the old master out of a full heart, as -you might say.”</p> - -<p>“Then you shouldn’t have parted with it.” She hated -herself for her words, but she was not in a mood to -soften them. “You have already had the pleasure of -giving it to me, therefore it is only right that you should -now deny yourself the pleasure of giving it to Uncle -Si. It is like eating your cake and having it.”</p> - -<p>William was not apt in argument, and this was cogent -reasoning. He lacked the wit to meet it, yet he -stuck tenaciously to his guns. “When you realize what -this rare treasure means to the old man, I’m sure you’ll -change your mind.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span></p> - -<p>June shook her head. Secretly, however, she felt -like weakening a bit. In the wistful voice was a note -that hurt. But she could not afford to yield; there -was far too much at stake. “I shall have to think the -matter over very carefully,” she temporised. “And, -in the meantime, not a word to Uncle Si that the picture’s -mine.”</p> - -<p>She mustered the force of will to exact a promise. -Bewildered, sad, a little incredulous, he gave it.</p> - -<p>“<i>I hope he doesn’t hate me half as much as I hate -myself</i>,” was the swift and sickening thought that -annihilated June, as she ran from the studio, having -recollected with a pang of dismay that she had not put -in the pudding for dinner.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV">XV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">D</span>inner</span> was a miserable meal. The Yorkshire -pudding was light, the roast sirloin was done to a turn, the potatoes were white and floury, the kidney -beans were tender, but June could find nothing in the -way of appetite. The mere presence of William at the -other side of the table was almost more than she could -bear. So keen was her sense of a terribly false position -that she dare not look at him. What did he think -of her? How must she appear to one all high-minded -goodness and generosity?</p> - -<p>Surely he must know, after what had just passed, -that her love of the picture was mere base deceit. -Surely he must hold such an opinion of her now that -he would never believe or trust her again. And the -tragedy of it was that she could not hope to make him -see the real motive which lay behind it all.</p> - -<p>Seated at the table, making only a pretence of eating, -but listening with growing anger and disgust to the -artful change she now detected in the tone of Uncle -Si, it was as if the chair in which she sat was poised -on the edge of an abyss. William must despise her -quite as much as she despised the Old Crocodile, was -the thought which turned her heart to stone.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques having had the wit to discover -the set of the wind, had begun most successfully to -trim his sails. An hour’s careful examination of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span> -picture that morning had convinced him that he had -underrated its merits. There was very good work in -it, and as a lifelong lover of art—with a devout glance -at William—good work always appealed to him. But -whether the thing, as a whole, was to be rated as highly -as William put it, was decidedly an open question. -Still the picture had merit, and personally he should -treasure it as much for William’s sake as for its own.</p> - -<p>June realized that it was now the turn of this cunning -old fox to make love to the Van Roon’s owner. -But was he cunninger than she? Yet what concerned -her more than anything just now was the plain fact that -he had already managed to persuade himself that the -treasure was his property.</p> - -<p>This was not the hour to disabuse his mind. And no -matter when that hour came she foresaw a dire quarrel. -She was now involved in a business to strain all the -resources of her diplomacy. But William needed help. -Cost what it might the task devolved upon her of looking -after his affairs.</p> - -<p>William, meanwhile, in his own peculiar way, seemed -not averse from looking after hers. After dinner her -first duty was to clear the table and wash up; and he -simply insisted upon bearing a hand. He carried the -tray into the back kitchen, and then, almost with defiance, -presided at the washing of the crockery, while she -had to be content with the humbler office of drying it.</p> - -<p>“It’s your hands I’m thinking of, Miss June.”</p> - -<p>“My hands are no affair of yours,” was the terse -reply.</p> - -<p>The lover of beauty shyly declared that such hands -were not meant for such a task.</p> - -<p>“Nothing to write home about—my hands aren’t.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span></p> - -<p>Politely sceptical, William drew from his pocket a -bit of pumice stone.</p> - -<p>“It is to take the soils out of your fingers,” he said, -offering this talisman shyly.</p> - -<p>June’s face was now a tawny scarlet. She did not -know whether to laugh or to be angry. Yet how was -it possible to be angry with a creature who was so -charmingly absurd?</p> - -<p>“May I take them out for you?”</p> - -<p>The answer was “no.”</p> - -<p>But somehow her face must have said “yes.” For -without more ado, the amazing fellow took one of her -hands and with nice discretion began to apply the -pumice stone.</p> - -<p>“There, now,” he said finally.</p> - -<p>A stern rebuke trembled upon her lips, yet with the -best will in the world it could not find a form of words -whereby to get itself uttered.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI">XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span> little</span> later in the day Uncle Si came into the -back kitchen where June was at work. It seemed -that he had an announcement to make.</p> - -<p>“Niece, there’s a piece of news for you. I’ve decided -to take Mrs. Runciman back.”</p> - -<p>June saw no reason why Mrs. Runciman should not -be taken back. Indeed, she would welcome the return -of the charwoman. It would certainly reduce the -burden of her own labours which was by no means -light.</p> - -<p>“You and I are not going to hit it off, I can see that. -Already there’s been too much of your interference. -Next thing you’ll upset that boy. And I wouldn’t have -that happen—not for a thousand pounds. So I think -the best thing I can do is to take Mrs. Runciman back, -and get her to find you a job.”</p> - -<p>“For me!” said June slowly. “Mrs. Runciman find -a job for me!”</p> - -<p>“If she comes you’ll have to go. I can’t afford -to keep a couple o’ women eating their heads off. The -times don’t run to it.”</p> - -<p>“What sort of a job do you expect a charwoman -to find for me?” June asked, biting her lip.</p> - -<p>“She may know of somebody who wants a domestic -help. As far as I can see, you are not fitted for anything -else.”</p> - -<p>That was true enough, as June felt with a sharp<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span> -pang. She was a girl without any sort of training except -in the tedium of housework. No other career was -open to her and she was going to be turned adrift. -There came a hot flame to her cheeks, a sting of quick -tears to her eyes. She was a proud and ambitious -girl; never had she felt so keenly humiliated.</p> - -<p>“If you stay here,” said Uncle Si, “you’re sure to -upset that boy. And, as I say, rather than that should -happen I’d pay a thousand pounds to a hospital.”</p> - -<p>June didn’t reply. But in a surge of feeling she -went up to her attic, and with rage in her heart flung -herself full length on the bed.</p> - -<p>The blow was fully expected, yet that hardly made -the weight of it less. Soon or late this miser was -bound to turn her out of doors; yet coming at such a -time “the sack” was in the nature of a calamity.</p> - -<p>Well, she must face it! Domestic service was the -only thing to which she could turn her hand, and that, -she foresaw, was likely to prove a form of slavery. A -future, hard, confined and miserable, lay in front of -her.</p> - -<p>Bitterly she regretted now that she had not been able -to fit herself for some other way of life. She had had -a reasonably good education, as far as it went, in her -native town of Blackhampton, where her father at -one time had been in a moderately good position. But -he had died when she was fourteen. And her mother, -with health completely broken several years before her -death had been left so badly off that June, perforce, had -to give up all thoughts of a wider field. Stifling vague -ambitions, she had bravely submitted to the yoke but, -in spite of a sense of duty honestly, even nobly done, -the sequel was a grim distaste of household drudgery.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span> -And this had not been made less by a month under the -roof of S. Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>With a gnawing sense of misery that was like a -toothache, June slid off the bed and looked at herself -in the cracked mirror which adorned the crazy dressing-table. -Her only assets were comprised in her personal appearance. -Instinctively she took stock of them. -Alas, as she beheld them now, they were pretty much -a “washout.”</p> - -<p>First to strike her was the tell-tale redness of her -eyelids, and that disgusted her to begin with. But, -apart from that, she felt in her own mind that her personality -was not really attractive. Her education was -small, her life had been restricted and narrow; and now -there seemed no way out.</p> - -<p>Honestly she was not pretty, she was not clever, and -she knew next to nothing of the world. Even at Blackhampton, -where the supply of smart girls was strictly -limited, she had never passed for anything out of the -common. She had felt sometimes that her nature was -too serious. In a girl a serious nature was a handicap, -she had once heard Mr. Boultby, the druggist at the -corner of Curzon Street, remark. One “asset,” however, -she certainly had. The mop of golden-brown -hair had always been her stand-by, and Mr. Boultby, -that man of the world, had paid her compliments upon -it. An artist would revel in it, he had said. Certainly -there was a lot of it, and the colour having aroused -comment even in her early days at the High School -among her form-mates, it was no doubt rather striking. -She was also inclined to be tall and long in the -leg, she knew that her shoulders and chest were good, -she prided herself upon the neatness of her ankles, yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span> -at the back of her shrewd mind lurked the fear that -the general effect must be plainness, not beauty. She -had heard Mr. Boultby, always a friend, describe her -as “unusual,” but she had felt that it was his polite way -of saying she was not so good-looking as she might be.</p> - -<p>No, wherever her fortune might lie, it was not in -her face. Once or twice, in her romantic Blackhampton -phases, which at best were very brief and few, -she had thought of the stage. But one month of London -had convinced her that it was not her line. Considering -her inexperience of life her fund of horse -sense was rather remarkable. She was a great believer -in the doctrine of “looking facts in the face.” -And the fact she had to meet now was that she was not -in any way pretty or talented. Unless you were one -or the other, and London teemed with girls who were -both, the doors of the theatre were locked and barred.</p> - -<p>Back on the edge of the bed, she began to consider -the question of learning shorthand and typing, so that -she might become a clerk in an office. But her means -were so scant that the plan was hardly feasible. Really -it seemed that no career was open to her, other than -the one she loathed. And then the thought of William -came. At once, by a strange magic, it eased the pressure. -Heart, brain and will were merged in an immediate task; -she must stand between this child of -nature and the avarice of his master.</p> - -<p>The sudden thought of William brought courage, -tenacity, fighting power. She knew that at this moment -he was the other side the wall. An impelling need -urged her to go to him. Forgetful of red and swollen -lids she got up at once and went and knocked on the -studio door.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></p> - -<p>A familiar voice said, “Come in!”</p> - -<p>William, as usual in that room, was pottering about -amid oils, canvasses and varnish. He was in shirt -sleeves, he wore a large apron, his shock of fair hair, -which gave him the look of a poet, was rumpled, there -was a smudge on his cheek, but the absorption of his -eyes, their look of intensity, half filled her with awe.</p> - -<p>She had really come to tell him that she was going -to be sent away. But as soon as she found herself in -his presence she was overcome by sheer pride. From -the first this young man had treated her with a deference -which implied that she was of a clay superior -to his own. His bearing towards her always stressed -the fact that she was the niece of his good master, and -that he was a servant humbly grateful for his fifteen -shillings a week.</p> - -<p>At first this attitude had fed her vanity in a subtle -way. But now, in present circumstances, it seemed -almost to enrage her. It was quite absurd that a man -of such distinguished talent should place her upon a -pedestal. The truth of the matter was she was unfit -to lace his shoes, and it was amazing that he did not -know it.</p> - -<p>Upon her entrance William had immediately risen -from his stool, and had bowed slightly over the pot of -varnish he held in his hand, with a half-humorous -air of homage, as some famous chemist might have -done when disturbed by a great lady in the midst of -his wonderful researches. “I know it’s not me you -have come to see,” his gentle manner seemed to say; -“it is this marvellous thing on the easel at my elbow.”</p> - -<p>All the same it was William she had come to see. -She had come to him for countenance and sympathy.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span> -And it did not help her at all that she should be treated -with a shy reserve. She craved to be told that she had -come to mean something to him; she craved to be told -that his fastidious concern for her hands, and the -regard he had for a beauty in which she herself did -not believe was more than mere chivalry towards women -in general. Alas, in spite of the eager friendliness -of her reception this was not apparent. In the eyes of -William she was just the master’s niece, and the incident -of the pumice stone was without significance, beyond -the fact that he was no more than the least of -her servants.</p> - -<p>It was very exasperating.</p> - -<p>“But if you are wise,” said a voice within, “you -will not let this Gaby know that you think so.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII">XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> spent a worried and disconsolate night. She -had very little sleep. Time and again she listened -to the melancholy drip-drip of rain on the eaves just -over her head. Never in her life had she felt so -wretched. She was horribly lonely, without resources -or friends. How she was to live through the endless -years of servitude and dependence on the will of others -that lay ahead she did not know.</p> - -<p>To keep on telling oneself to bear up seemed of little -use. She had had to do that each hour of each day -since her mother’s death. The prospect of being cast -upon the world was indeed dispiriting, yet in the end -it might turn out better than to sacrifice one’s youth -upon the altar of such a Moloch as Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>As people who sleep ill are apt to do, she fell into -a comfortable doze just about the time she ought to -be getting up. Thus, to her dismay, she entered upon -the trying institution known as Monday morning at a -quarter past seven instead of half past six.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si will be growling for his breakfast in another -quarter of an hour,” was the thought that urged -her into her clothes with a frantic haste. One twist -she gave and no more, without so much as a glance in -the glass, at the mane of brown gold hair, and then she -flew downstairs, buttoning the front of her dress.</p> - -<p>A fire was burning in the kitchen grate, and upon it -slices of bacon were sizzling in a frying-pan; the cloth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span> -was laid for breakfast; moreover, the parlour was already -swept and dusted. In fact, at the precise moment -of June’s belated appearance upon the scene, William, -with a businesslike air, was returning from a visit to -the dustbin.</p> - -<p>When they met in the passage by the scullery she -came within an ace of rebuking him. “Even if I oversleep -myself you’ve no right to be so officious,” was -the sharp phrase which rose to her lips. But a saving -sense of justice, not always at the service of the female -soul, held it back. After all, such kindness and devotion -were worthy of respect; he had saved, besides, an -unpleasant scene with Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>“Oh, thank you, William, ever so much,” she had -the grace to murmur, hoping as she hastily disposed of -the last button of her dress, that he wouldn’t notice -she had come down, “half undone.”</p> - -<p>“Please don’t mention it, Miss June,” he said, with -the politeness of a courtier, as he returned the empty -dustpan to its home beneath the scullery sink. “As you -didn’t seem quite yourself last night I was hoping you -would not get up at all this morning. I was going to -bring your breakfast up to you, and set it outside your -door.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but you are much too kind.” A sudden fierce -rush of colour made her cheeks burn horribly. He was -a very nice fellow, even if he was not so bright in some -things as he ought to be.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si, by the grace of providence, was a few -minutes late for his breakfast. This seldom happened -for, as a rule, he was the soul of punctuality. However, -he was going down to Newbury by the nine -o’clock from Paddington to attend a sale; in consequence,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span> -he had bestowed far more pains upon his appearance -than was usual at this early hour. He was -in a fairly good humour. The fact that the charwoman’s -return would enable him “to fire” his niece -had cheered him so much that for once he had slept -like a just man.</p> - -<p>“Don’t expect me until supper time,” he said to June, -as he put on his high felt hat and his macintosh, and -grasped the knobbed stick, as ugly as himself, which -invariably accompanied his travels. “And my advice -to you, my girl, is to think over very carefully what -I said to you last night.”</p> - -<p>With an air of quiet satisfaction, S. Gedge Antiques -stepped briskly forth into a soft autumn day where the -sun as yet could not quite make up its mind to greet -him.</p> - -<p>It was to be a day of great events. And the first -of these began to materialise shortly before eleven -when June chanced to enter the shop. William, just -at that moment, was fathoms deep in conversation -with a customer. The customer was very tall, she was -strikingly distinguished and, in the opinion of June, -she was dressed exquisitely. Soft silk and faint blue -Chinese embroidery clothed her with a dangerous -beauty. But it was the coquetry of her hat, an artful -straw wreathed wonderfully in flowers of many a -subtle shade that gave the crowning touch.</p> - -<p>The hat it was, no doubt, that completed William’s -overthrow. There was a look of rapture in the eyes -with which the vain fellow regarded its wearer, for -which June could have found it in her heart to slay him -on the spot.</p> - -<p>That tell-tale look was really a little too much. June<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span> -could not help lingering on the threshold to watch these -two. So shamelessly was William engrossed with -this vision of pure beauty that there was not a chance -of his eyes straying to look at her. And she would not -have cared if they had. Such an irrational surge of -jealousy was now in her heart that she would have -welcomed his seeing what she thought of his gazing -like that, even upon the grandest young woman in the -land.</p> - -<p>“So nice of you to take so much trouble,” the fair -customer said in a voice of such melody that June had -to own that the celebrated Miss Banks, the daughter -of Blackhampton’s chief physician, whose charm of -manner had ever remained in her mind as the high-water -mark of human amenity, would now have to take -second place.</p> - -<p>“Not at all, madam,” said William, in the William -way. Even June had to admit that such fine courtesy, -a little excessive, no doubt, was far removed from mere -sycophancy. Had he not practised on her? For that -reason she had a perfect right to feel furious; William’s -homage was far too inclusive. At the same time, -there was no gainsaying that in this case he had every -excuse. Regarded as the mirror of fashion and the -mould of form, Miss Banks of Blackhampton was -now a back number.</p> - -<p>“The friend I sent it to liked it very much indeed,” -said the Super-girl. “It was so exactly what she wanted. -And if by chance you are able to match it, I shall -be most grateful.”</p> - -<p>William, with that divine air of his, promised quite -simply and sincerely to do his best.</p> - -<p>“The price, too, was very moderate,” said the Super-girl<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> -with the geniality of one who owns a province. -Then suddenly she half turned, and her merry glance, -assisted by a Miss Banksian stick-eyeglass was trained -full upon the Hoodoo. “What a delicious monster!” -The voice had quite a Brahms trill in it, not that June -had ever heard of Brahms. “It reminds one of Edgar -Allan Poe or the Grand Guignol.”</p> - -<p>Unabashed by culture, William stood to his full -height. June could only marvel at his coolness.</p> - -<p>“So Oriental. So grotesque. Makes one think of -Ali Baba and the Cave of the Forty Robbers. Very -valuable, of course?”</p> - -<p>“No, I wouldn’t exactly call it valuable.” June -hardly knew whether to admire or to deplore this candour. -“And it takes up a lot of room, and absorbs -a lot of light. Almost needs the British Museum, as -you might say, to show it to advantage.”</p> - -<p>Again the Brahms trill, as the eye of the Super-girl -travelled from the Hoodoo to William. “Those fearful -eyes and those grinning jaws studded with crocodile’s -teeth make it look absolutely alive. And it’s so -perfectly hideous that one feels sure there must be a -curse on it.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gedge declares there is.”</p> - -<p>“Really?” The eyes, the blue eyes of the Super-girl -grew round and merry. “I’d love to have a thing -with a curse on it—if it’s a real one?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gedge would part with it for a very reasonable -sum I feel sure,” said William, with a judicious air that -June admired the more for being hardly able to credit -it in him.</p> - -<p>With the casual air so becoming to riches, the young -woman asked the price.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span></p> - -<p>“Twenty pounds would buy it,” she was informed.</p> - -<p>“Curse and all?”</p> - -<p>“Curse and all, madam.” William had a nice sense -of humour, which June had discovered before she had -known him an hour, but in this big moment he did not -relax a muscle.</p> - -<p>For about a quarter of a minute the Super-girl -looked again at the Hoodoo. And then with the air -of one who takes a great decision, she gave the ugly -chin a playful tap and said: “I believe the long gallery -at Homefield is the very place for you, my friend. You -may not be a thing of beauty, but at the far end I am -sure you would be a joy for ever!” She made then -such fine play with her stick-eyeglass, that Miss Banks -was put off the map altogether. “And a real live curse -given in, I think you said?”</p> - -<p>William bowed a grave affirmative.</p> - -<p>It was clear that Miss Blue Blood was intrigued. -She folded, unfolded, refolded her stick-eyeglass; she -looked the Hoodoo up, she looked the Hoodoo down, -standing three paces back in order to do so. “Before I -really decide”—addressing the monster in a voice of -warm caresses—“I must get my father to come and -look at you, my dear. He’s wiser than I in these matters. -You might kill all the pictures in the long gallery.”</p> - -<p>At this point William bowed again with exceeding -deference. But here was not the end. The stick-eyeglass -lit on the bowl of Lowestoft, which the Sawney -who was turning out to be not quite such a sawney as -he seemed, had picked up in his recent travels in -Suffolk.</p> - -<p>“I like that. What a charming piece!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span></p> - -<p>Mr. Half-Sawney held the charming piece to the -light for Miss Stick-eyeglass to gaze upon.</p> - -<p>“Yes—really quite charming!”</p> - -<p>Their heads were so close while together they bent -over its beauties, that June, without wishing real harm -to either, could have found it in her heart to hope that -the bowl might fall from the hands of William and -break into a thousand pieces.</p> - -<p>“What is the price?”</p> - -<p>The bowl was turned on to its base while the young -man glanced at the mystic code which had been traced -by the hand of S. Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>“Six guineas, madam,” she was most deferentially -informed.</p> - -<p>“I collect Lowestoft. A charming piece. It will go -so well with my others. Will you kindly send it to 39b, -Park Lane?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, Miss Babraham.”</p> - -<p>The amazing Miss Babraham opened a vanity bag, -took out a sheaf of notes, and chose six which, with the -smile of a siren, she handed to William, who received -them with one more bow from his full height, and proceeded -to write out a receipt.</p> - -<p>Somehow this transaction was altogether too much -for June. Flashing one long last glance of immeasurable -venom upon the stick-eyeglass who, all unconscious -of the deadly passions it had aroused, had now -returned to elegant and final contemplation of the Hoodoo, -the niece of S. Gedge Antiques withdrew hurriedly -to the scullery sink, filled a bucket of water, and -proceeded with a kind of contained fury to scrub the -floor of the larder.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII">XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">W</span>hen</span> William came in to dinner there was -music to face. But as there was no sure ground -at the moment for real battle, the music opened <i>pianissimo</i>. -It began with a few rather pointed enquiries.</p> - -<p>“Had a rather busy morning, haven’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think it has been anything out of the way,” -was the non-committal answer.</p> - -<p>“Done any business?” The question was casual, but -June fixed him with her eye.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes!” So light and airy was the tone that business -might have mattered nothing. “I’ve sold the -Lowestoft bowl.”</p> - -<p>“Uncle Si’ll be pleased, I expect.” She found it terribly -difficult to keep a sneer out of her voice, but you -never know what you can do till you try. “Fetch -much?”</p> - -<p>She knew perfectly well, of course, the price it had -fetched.</p> - -<p>“Six guineas!”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t that a pretty good profit on what you paid for -it at Saxmundham?” said June, with the precision of -the born head for affairs.</p> - -<p>“I got it for thirty shillings at Saxmundham, but -of course that was at a sale.”</p> - -<p>“Seems a fair profit, anyway.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose it is.”</p> - -<p>“Will you get any?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh no!” said William, trying to spear a pickled -walnut in a glass jar.</p> - -<p>“Then I think it’s an infamous shame that the whole -of that six guineas should go into the pocket of Uncle -Si.”</p> - -<p>With a polite shake of the head, William dissented. -“But don’t you see, I couldn’t have bought it unless the -master had given me the money, and also marked the -catalogue.”</p> - -<p>“It was your brains that bought it. And your brains -sold it, too. I think you ought to see that Uncle Si is -simply living upon them.”</p> - -<p>“No, no, Miss June,” said William staunchly. -“Please don’t forget that it is the master who taught -me everything.”</p> - -<p>June declined to argue the point. She knew it was -no use. For the hundredth time she was up against -his fixed idea. Besides, there was something else to -talk about.</p> - -<p>“To whom did you sell that beautiful bowl?” Her -voice was that of the dove.</p> - -<p>“I sold it to a Miss Babraham,” said the Sawney in -a voice of perfectly stupendous impersonality.</p> - -<p>“To a Miss Who?”</p> - -<p>She had caught the name quite clearly, and not for -the first time that day, but there was a kind of morbid -fascination in toying with a subject which was really -without significance, and could lead nowhere. All the -same she pined for an insight into the workings of the -mind of this strange young man who was such a baffling -mixture of the over-simple and the highly gifted.</p> - -<p>“Her name is Miss Babraham.”</p> - -<p>“Who is she when she is at home?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span></p> - -<p>She tried hard to imitate a detachment which was a -little uncanny, yet knowing all the time that she was -making a sad hash of the performance. The trick seldom -comes easy to the daughters of Eve.</p> - -<p>“Who did you say she was?”</p> - -<p>“Her father is Sir Arthur Babraham.” The impersonality -of William made her writhe.</p> - -<p>“Oho!” said June, still trying her best to rise to -William’s level, and fully conscious that she was failing -miserably. “One of the big bugs, eh?”</p> - -<p>It was vulgar, she knew, to speak in that way. -Among the things she had learned at the Blackhampton -High School was a due and proper regard for baronets. -Miss Preece, its august headmistress, would -have been shocked, not merely by her tone, but also -by her choice of words. But High School or no High -School, the intrusion of Sir Arthur Babraham suddenly -made her see red. She must be vulgar—or burst!</p> - -<p>“What you’d call one of the smart set, I suppose?” -said June abruptly breaking a long and rather trying -pause. “Well, I don’t think much of her stick-eyeglass, -anyway.”</p> - -<p>Terrific disparagement of Miss Babraham, her -works and her belongings was intended, yet to the -queer creature seated opposite who by now was almost -ready for the tapioca pudding, which had been so carefully -prepared for him, it did not seem to imply anything -at all.</p> - -<p>“You take no stock of smart sets, I dare say,” said -June, with growing truculence. “You’ve never heard -of them, have you? China tea sets are more in your -line, aren’t they?”</p> - -<p>That was real wit, and people far less clever than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span> -this Sawney—a contradiction in terms and yet the only -word which seemed to describe him after all!—must -have seen the force of it. But not he! He solemnly -rose and collected the plates, and then fetched in the -tapioca pudding for all the world as if there was absolutely -no point in the remark.</p> - -<p>“Who did you say that tall girl was?” said June, -returning mothlike to the flame, as she helped the -Sawney very substantially to his favourite dish.</p> - -<p>“Miss Babraham!”</p> - -<p>“And who did you say her father was?”</p> - -<p>“Sir Arthur Babraham!”</p> - -<p>“And what might <i>he</i> do for a living?”</p> - -<p>This was not ignorance. It was mere facetiousness. -She knew quite well that no Sir Arthur Babraham -since first invented by that ridiculous monarch, King -James, had ever done anything for a living. But it -was good to feel how such a “break” would have hurt -Miss Preece.</p> - -<p>“He’s one of the richest men in England,” said -William, dipping his spoon into his tapioca with an impersonality -which approached the sublime.</p> - -<p>June knew that. There was the daughter of Sir -Arthur Babraham to prove it.</p> - -<p>“One of Uncle Si’s best customers, I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t often come here. But he has wonderful -taste.”</p> - -<p>“In daughters?” said June sardonically.</p> - -<p>“In everything. Only last night I read in the paper -that there isn’t a better judge of pictures living.”</p> - -<p>June merely said “Oh!”</p> - -<p>“He’s one of the trustees of the National Gallery, -you know.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh!” said June.</p> - -<p>“And owns a very fine private collection of the -Dutch School.”</p> - -<p>“Does he?” It was June’s turn now to be impersonal; -in fact, it was up to her to let him see that it -would take more than Sir Arthur Babraham and a private -collection of the Dutch School to impress her.</p> - -<p>“I suppose his daughter is what you’d call rather -<i>fetching</i>?” She had once heard the word on the lips -of the admired Miss Banks at a charity bazaar.</p> - -<p>But in William’s opinion it was not adequate to the -occasion.</p> - -<p>“To my mind,” he said, and his voice fell, “she’s a -non-such.”</p> - -<p>June stepped midway in the act of bestowing upon -him a second helping of tapioca.</p> - -<p>“She’s a what?” she demanded fiercely.</p> - -<p>“A museum piece, Miss June.” His enthusiasm was -restrained but none the less absurd. “She’s hallmarked. -She walks in beauty.” A blush, faint yet -becoming, slowly overspread William’s delicately tinted -complexion.</p> - -<p>June snorted. Had it been within the province of -eyes to slay, this Gaby would have had no use for a -second helping of tapioca.</p> - -<p>“Glad to know that!” said June, homicidally. “As -you are so set on beauty, you must have had an interesting -morning.”</p> - -<p>A disgracefully impersonal silence was William’s -only answer. The deadliness of the observation seemed -completely lost upon him. But was it?—that was the -question for gods and Woman. Such a silence might -mean anything.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> - -<p>“I suppose you’d say she had wonderful taste?”</p> - -<p>“Miss Babraham?”</p> - -<p>“No, Joan of Arc,” said Woman, venomously.</p> - -<p>“Her taste is very good indeed—that is, in some -things.”</p> - -<p>“In hats, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“I meant in old china,” said the impersonal one. -“I’ve never known her to make a mistake in old china.”</p> - -<p>“That’s interesting.” It was a weak remark, but -June had seldom felt less conversationally brilliant.</p> - -<p>Silence again. A third helping of tapioca was -politely declined. June then pushed across the cheese. -William removed its cover, and disclosed an extremely -meagre piece of Leicestershire.</p> - -<p>“Please may I give you a little?” he asked, with his -inimitable air.</p> - -<p>“There’ll be none for yourself if you do. Besides, -I don’t want any. No thank you.” She remembered -her manners, although that was not easy just now. -“I’ll go out presently and buy some more. I’d quite -forgotten the cheese.”</p> - -<p>“Please—please take this tiny piece.”</p> - -<p>“When I say no, I don’t mean yes,” said June, tempering -strength of character with calm politeness. “I -can’t imagine Miss Babraham eating a piece of Leicestershire -cheese in a dirty overall—can you?”</p> - -<p>The remark was so irrelevant that it verged upon -the grotesque. Heaven knows from what malign impulse -it sprang. No girl in her senses would ever have -made it. Giant Despair and the Hag Desperation must -have been its sponsors.</p> - -<p>It was quite open to William to follow the line of -least resistance and ignore the question. A William<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span> -less true-blue, a William less a gentleman right -through to the core might without dishonour have done -so. But this was a William of a nobler clay.</p> - -<p>“Miss June, your overall isn’t dirty.”</p> - -<p>The rich sincerity of these six and a half little words -seemed gravely to imperil the whole sublime edifice -of his impersonality.</p> - -<p>He was contradicted flatly for his pains; yet she -knew in her heart that whether the overall was dirty -or whether it was clean, the renegade was already half -forgiven.</p> - -<p>“What did you think of her dress?” This new on-rush -of irrelevance was despicable, but she seemed -quite to have lost control of herself.</p> - -<p>“It was perfect. To my mind, nothing is more becoming -to a tall lady than a dress of soft dark blue -silk.”</p> - -<p>Dyed-in-the-wool idiot! As though it was not his -clear and obvious duty never even to have noticed -whether Miss Babraham wore a dress of soft blue silk -or a muslin with spots or a grey alpaca, or just a plain -serge coat and skirt. Times there are when the stupidity -of the human male has really no limit.</p> - -<p>“Must have cost a pretty penny,” said June acidly.</p> - -<p>William shook his head, and boldly affirmed that it -couldn’t be bought for money.</p> - -<p>“That’s just nonsense,” said June tartly. “There -isn’t a dress in the world that couldn’t be bought for -money.”</p> - -<p>“What I really mean is, to have a dress which looked -like that, you would also have to buy the wearer,” said -William the amazing.</p> - -<p>June expressed a ripe scorn by vehemently beginning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span> -to clear the table. High time, certainly. They -had been discussing cold mutton and pickled walnuts -and tapioca pudding and Leicestershire cheese and -things and women for one solid hour by the Queen -Anne clock, a real antique, in the middle of the chimneypiece, -for which S. Gedge had lately refused the -sum of forty guineas.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIX">XIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">I</span>n</span> the course of the afternoon, June found herself -immersed in the crisis of her fate. It began with -a desire to own a dress of soft blue silk. This, she well -knew, was insane. In the first place, she was still in -mourning for her mother; in the second, she must -hoard every penny of her slender means; in the third, -was William’s conviction that the success of a dress -depended upon its wearer.</p> - -<p>Not a shade of excuse could be found for this vaulting -ambition. But it was fixed so firmly in the centre -of her mind, that when she set out soon after three to -order the cheese she could think of nothing else. The -grocer was at the end of the street and two minutes -did her business with him. And then in the toils of -imperious desire she marched boldly down to Charing -Cross and took a bus to Oxford Circus.</p> - -<p>A yearning for a dress of blue silk was upon her like -a passion. It was madness and yet it was very delicious. -What could a blue silk dress avail when at any -moment she was likely to be cast adrift? That thought -hit hard as she sauntered slowly along the Street of -Streets gazing wistfully upon its long array of too-fascinating -drapers’ windows.</p> - -<p>Her store of worldly wealth was nineteen pounds -and a few odd shillings. It was as certain as anything -could be that she was about to enter upon the most -critical period of her life, and this was all she had to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span> -tide her over. But do what she would to act like a reasonable -being she was now at the mercy of a demon -more powerful than common prudence. She was -haunted by a passion for a blue silk dress and no matter -what happened to her afterwards she must satisfy -that craving.</p> - -<p>It was a rather thrilling business to rake these forbidden -windows in quest of a thing it was sheer madness -to buy, yet within one’s power to do so. Why was -she going to buy it? Because she wanted it so badly? -Why did she want it so badly? That was a question -she could not answer.</p> - -<p>Had she been really pretty this folly might have -seemed less amazing. But she knew she was plain. -At least, she always felt and always passed for plain -at Blackhampton. But her pilgrimage along Oxford -Street which, in the middle of a bright afternoon of -early October, seemed the Mecca of fashion, beauty -and good taste went some way to change the attitude -she had taken up in regard to her personal appearance.</p> - -<p>Plain she might be, her clothes might be severely -provincial, their hue depressing, but she was clearly -informed by the sixth sense given to Woman that she -was not wholly unlooked at. It was nice to feel that -such was the case; indeed, it was stimulating, yet so -deeply was she occupied just then with large affairs -that she didn’t think much about it.</p> - -<p>After many windows she had seen, she found herself -drifting with the tide into a store of regal aspect. -Here she was received by young women, elegant and -gracious, with a courteous charm that made a search -for five yards of blue silk fabric in its least expensive -form a perfectly simple and yet delightful adventure.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span> -Moreover, it brought in its train a great idea. Was it -necessary, after all, that domestic servitude should be -her lot? Might it not be possible to become one of -these smart and pleasant ladies in their very attractive -clothes?</p> - -<p>Expenditure of spirit, anxious care, went to the final -purchase of four and a half yards of cotton silk material, -more cotton than silk, at eight and elevenpence -three farthings a yard; and then the new thought -gained such a hold upon her, that before leaving the -store she took an inventory of her person in one of the -huge mirrors which made the place so enchanting. -Standing boldly in front of the great glass, surveying -herself with a curiosity that was half fear, she went -over her “points” as might an Eastern merchant who -buys a slave.</p> - -<p>She was taller than she supposed. That was -thought the first. And if she wore shoes with high -heels, as so many girls did, she could look still taller. -She could pass for slender, that was her second -thought; and her chest was something to be proud of. -She might not have much in the way of grace, and she -might lack style, yet she didn’t lack dignity. Her features -were irregular, and there was no denying their -freckles, but seeing her frontispiece this afternoon, -with its fighting chin and determined eyes, the full -effect was rather striking. But when all was said it -was her hair that was important. This she had always -known, but in the strong and subtle lights of the best -mirror into which she had ever gazed, it ministered -considerably to the sum and total of her charms. Perhaps -her friend, Mr. Boultby the druggist, had not -overshot the mark when he compared her hair to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span> -Empress Eugenie’s, and said it ought to be painted by -an R. A.</p> - -<p>A mop of russet gold hair was little enough for a -girl who stood in her particular shoes. She felt that as -she gazed upon it; felt it besides with something akin -to resentment. But even a self-criticism, cool and stern, -must allow that she made a better showing in Mr. Selfridge’s -mirror than could have been expected. She -was far from being beautiful, but that hair in its subtle-tinted -abundance saved her somehow from being ordinary. -And to-day she looked very much alive with the -bloom of youth and health.</p> - -<p>Four and a half yards of blue material under her -arm, she went out into Oxford Street, feeling rather -better equipped for the battle of life. She drew back -a pair of shoulders that were really not so bad, and -defiantly lifted a chin that had looked uncommonly -square in the mirror. It was good to feel that she had -underrated herself. She must learn to dress in the -London way, and then she might be able to hold her -own.</p> - -<p>Walking slowly back to Oxford Circus, head higher -now, she began quite to like this new idea of becoming -a shop assistant. At the worst, it would be a far easier -and more dignified way of life than domestic service. -So much was she engaged by it, and so great the pressure -of her thoughts that at first she didn’t notice that -a man was following her.</p> - -<p>The knowledge overtook her by degrees. Stopping -to look in various windows, each time she did so -brought a vague feeling that the eyes of a man were -upon her. She crossed the Circus, but the feeling was -still there; and at the corner of Berners Street, without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span> -quite knowing how, surmise entered the region of -fact. Moreover, she even contrived to learn the style -of man he was.</p> - -<p>Out of the tail of an eye, as she stood by the edge -of the kerb, she saw that he was pale and dark, neither -short nor tall, that he had a slight moustache, and wore -a hat of peach coloured velours. His presence gave -her an odd feeling; in fact, it might be said to frighten -her just a little, although there was certainly no reason -why it should in broad daylight. But she had an idea -that he was going to speak to her and that he was seeking -an opportunity to do so.</p> - -<p>Hastily she moved on, determined to give further -shop windows “a miss” for the present. However, she -had not gone far when it occurred to her that she was -in need of a cup of tea, and that it would be very pleasant -to have one.</p> - -<p>Just across the road was an A. B. C. shop. The fear -of pursuit still upon her, the sudden dash she made for -this bourn was so ill-timed that her sovereign faculty -of keeping her head in a crisis was needed to save her -from being run over by Bus 13, which was going to the -“Bell” at Hendon.</p> - -<p>With quite a sense of adventure, she went to one of -a row of vacant tables at the far end of the shop. She -ordered a small pot of tea, a scone and a pat of butter. -And then she realized that a pale, dark man, neither -short nor tall, with a slight moustache, and wearing a -hat of peach-coloured velours had followed her in, and -was just about to take a seat at the table next her own.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XX">XX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> was not a timid girl. She had no lack of courage; -and now that a chance had been given her to -reason things out, a feeling akin to fear promptly -yielded to mere annoyance. And even that emotion -took wings when she had had time to glance at the hat -of peach-coloured velours. Its owner looked harmless -enough. He was a man of thirty, or perhaps a little -more; he wore a well-cut black jacket, a pair of rather -baggy trousers of a light grey check, a silk collar, a -flowing bow tie, a diamond ring on the little finger of -the left hand. The general effect of what to June was -a decidedly interesting personality was somehow to -fulfil her preconceived idea of an artist.</p> - -<p>As soon as the man felt the gaze of June upon him, -he swept off the hat of peach-coloured velours with a -gesture at once easy and graceful, fortified it with a -smile at which it would have been impossible to take -offence, and said with a slight lisp,</p> - -<p>“Miss Graham?”</p> - -<p>“I am not Miss Graham,” said June calmly. She -always prided herself upon her self-possession. Just -now it seemed to help her considerably.</p> - -<p>The man carried off his question with such an air -of tact that it must have ranked as a bona fide mistake -had not June been aware that he had crossed the road<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span> -and followed her into the shop. Rather strangely, as -soon as he took it upon himself to speak to her, the -lingering sense of vexation gave way to curiosity. The -mere look of the man had the power to excite an immediate -interest, but June was careful to keep strictly -upon her guard.</p> - -<p>He ordered a bottle of ginger beer, and when the -waitress had gone for it, he turned to June and said, -with the companionable air of an old friend: “It’s -funny, but you are exactly like a girl I used to know.”</p> - -<p>“Why funny?” asked June bluntly.</p> - -<p>The nature of the question, and the look of June’s -keen eye made the man smile a little. Evidently she -was a bit of a character. It appeared to stimulate him.</p> - -<p>“It’s always funny when you mistake someone for -someone else.”</p> - -<p>“Is it?” said June, warily.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you agree,” he said, with a laugh that sounded -decidedly pleasant.</p> - -<p>“It’s a thing I should never think of doing myself.”</p> - -<p>“You are lucky.” He was amused by her bluntness. -“I wish I had your good memory.”</p> - -<p>The tea arrived, and June poured it out in a spirit -of thankfulness. As soon as she had drunk half a cup, -which was reviving, she forgot all about her annoyance -in a new feeling of exhilaration tempered by -quiet amusement.</p> - -<p>“You are most remarkably like a Scotch girl I used -to know in Paris,” said the man, taking up the thread -of conversation, after having drunk a little, a very little, -ginger beer.</p> - -<p>“Am I?” said June, coolly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></p> - -<p>“She was an artist’s model. Sometimes she used to -sit for me.”</p> - -<p>“Are you an artist?” said June, allowing herself -to become interested, for the reason perhaps that she -simply could not help it.</p> - -<p>“Of sorts,” was the answer. “I studied several -years in Paris before the war.”</p> - -<p>From the moment he had sat down at the next table -and June had been able to get a clear view of him she -had somehow known that art was his calling. He -looked an artist so emphatically that there would have -been something fatally wrong with the cosmos had he -turned out to be anything else.</p> - -<p>In spite of a determination to be cautious indeed, -she was not equal to the task of repressing an ever -growing curiosity. Art had lately come to have a -magic meaning for her.</p> - -<p>“What kind of pictures do you paint?”</p> - -<p>“Portraits and the figure chiefly.”</p> - -<p>“Do you ever paint landscapes?”</p> - -<p>“They are not quite my line of country,” said the -man. “Portraits and the figure are what I go for as a -rule. I am looking for a model now. Would you like -to sit to me?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know.” June spoke doubtfully. “I don’t -think I could.”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t you ever sat?”</p> - -<p>“No, I haven’t.”</p> - -<p>“Time you began. You are just the sort of girl.”</p> - -<p>“Why am I?”</p> - -<p>“For one thing you have personality.”</p> - -<p>This was a surprising and rather thrilling corroboration -of Mr. Boultby. At the back of her mind the old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span> -druggist had always figured as “a bit of a gasbag” with -a ready flow of conversation and a gift of easy compliment. -But it would seem that this estimate did him -less than justice. Mr. Boultby was better informed -than she had thought. And at this moment a phrase -he had used came back to her with a force that was a -little startling. “A girl as good-looking as you can -always get a living,” Mr. Boultby had once said.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you mean my hair?” said June naïvely.</p> - -<p>He showed two rows of very white and level teeth -in a smile which piqued her curiosity.</p> - -<p>“Partly your hair, and partly your figure,” he said, -taking a second tiny sip of ginger beer. “Why not -come and try? I have a studio in Haliburton Street, -just out of Manning Square.”</p> - -<p>June shook a doubtful head. She then gave a glance -sideways at the imbiber of the ginger beer. Her -knowledge of the world was slender, but she was not -a fool, and there was something about this “forthcomingness” -which even exceeded that of Mr. Boultby himself, -that warned her to be careful.</p> - -<p>“You’d be well paid, of course.”</p> - -<p>“How much?” June had no false modesty when it -came to a question of money. This was an aspect of -the matter that had not struck her until then.</p> - -<p>“I’d pay you five shillings an hour,” he said lightly. -“And ten for the altogether.”</p> - -<p>June’s heart gave a leap. To a girl in her position -it was a princely reward. Such an offer seemed most -tempting. But a moment’s consideration of the issues -it raised brought on a sudden fit of shyness.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I could,” she said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p> - -<p>“Why not?” The eyes of the man were now fixed -intently upon her face.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t——”</p> - -<p>“Not enough, eh?”</p> - -<p>She felt his eyes so forcibly upon her that she coloured -hotly.</p> - -<p>“It isn’t that.”</p> - -<p>“What’s your reason then?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve not been used to that sort of thing.”</p> - -<p>He smiled broadly.</p> - -<p>“It’s only a matter of keeping still. Of course, I -shall not press you to sit for ‘the altogether’ if you -had rather not.”</p> - -<p>“The altogether” was Greek to June.</p> - -<p>However, she did not confess her ignorance, but was -content to make a mental note to ask William what it -meant. And at the moment she did so the thought of -William brought the Van Roon to her mind.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you know a lot about pictures?” An -idea was forming already in that practical head.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I know as much about them as some people,” -said the man, beginning to roll a cigarette. June -could not help feeling that his answer was in piquant -contrast to what William’s would have been had such -a question been put to him. It had a self-complacency -which even if it implied deep knowledge was also open -to criticism.</p> - -<p>“What do you think a Van Roon would be worth?”</p> - -<p>“A Van Roon!” he said, offhandedly. “Well, you -know, that might depend on many things.”</p> - -<p>“They are very valuable, I suppose,” said June, trying -to look innocent.</p> - -<p>“Very valuable indeed, at the present time. Privately,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span> -I think they are overrated. The Flemish School -is being run to death, but of course, that’s only my -opinion.”</p> - -<p>“Would it be worth a hundred pounds?”</p> - -<p>“What! A Van Roon!” The man laughed. “My -good girl, you might multiply a hundred pounds by a -hundred, and then think you had got ‘some’ bargain -if you found yourself the owner of a Van Roon.”</p> - -<p>“This mightn’t be a good one.” June spoke cautiously. -She saw at once that it would be wise “to go -slow.”</p> - -<p>“All Van Roons are good, you know. But some, of -course, are a bit better than others.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been told it is one of the best,” said June, after -a moment’s deliberation.</p> - -<p>“Which are you talking about? The one in the National -Gallery, I suppose. That’s the only Van Roon -in this country. The Americans have robbed us of -three within the last ten years.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ve heard so,” said June, with a wise air.</p> - -<p>“In my humble opinion, it can’t be compared with -the chap in the Louvre, and they say that its stable -companion, which was cut out of its frame back in the -Nineties, and has never been found, is even finer.”</p> - -<p>“Still you think it’s very valuable?”</p> - -<p>“The one in the National Gallery? Sure! It -wouldn’t be there, you know, if it wasn’t. The Flemish -School is booming these days, and Van Roon is the -pick of the bunch, and the least prolific. Tell me,” -the man’s small and rather furtive eyes began to twinkle, -“why are you so interested in Van Roons? Is -it, by any chance, that you’ve got one for sale?” And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span> -he laughed very softly and gently at what he evidently -considered a rich joke.</p> - -<p>June looked at him gravely.</p> - -<p>“It so happens that I have!” she said with a caution -which seemed to give the value of drama to a simple -announcement.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXI">XXI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>dolph Keller</span> was the man’s name. And -as June was to learn later, he had never felt -more amused in his life. It was really a jest that he -should follow a countrified-looking girl into a teashop, -get into conversation with her, and then be quietly told -that she had a Van Roon to sell. There was something -rather pathetic in a girl of her class making such a -statement. All she could mean was that somehow she -had got hold of a more or less “dud” copy of “Sun -and Cloud,” that much lithographed work in the National -Gallery which in consequence was now familiar -to the big public.</p> - -<p>“So you’ve got a Van Roon for sale, have you?” -said Adolph Keller, who was hardly able to keep from -laughing outright. “Good for you! What’s the size -of it?”</p> - -<p>“Sixteen inches by twelve,” said June, with the patness -of one who prided herself, and with reason, upon -a most excellent memory.</p> - -<p>“Without the frame?”</p> - -<p>June nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s about the size,” said Keller. “It’s called -‘Sun and Cloud,’ I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“It’s not called anything at present,” said June, “as -far as I know, although sun and cloud are in it.”</p> - -<p>“Bound to be—if it’s a Van Roon.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> - -<p>“And there are trees as well.”</p> - -<p>“Trees, are there? A copy of the one in the National -Gallery, I expect. Is there a windmill in the left hand -corner?”</p> - -<p>There was no windmill in the left hand corner, June -declared with confidence. She remembered that at first -William had thought there was, but had changed his -opinion later.</p> - -<p>“Then that washes out the National Gallery. I dare -say it’s a copy of ‘L’Automne’ in the Louvre. By the -way, how did you come by it?”</p> - -<p>“It was given to me by a gentleman, a friend of -mine,” said June, after a moment for reflection.</p> - -<p>“A very good friend, too.” The tone of the laugh -had a little too much banter to be pleasant. “Isn’t -everybody, you know, who gives a Van Roon to his -best girl? A bit of a plutocrat evidently.”</p> - -<p>June didn’t know what a plutocrat was, but she was -too proud to say so. She made a mental note to look -up the word in the dictionary.</p> - -<p>“How did your rich friend come by it? Do you happen -to know?”</p> - -<p>“He isn’t rich,” said June, with a wish for perfect -honesty. “He found it in a shop.”</p> - -<p>“Where was the shop?”</p> - -<p>“It was at a place called Crowdham Market.”</p> - -<p>“Down in Suffolk. Sounds a funny place to find a -Van Roon.”</p> - -<p>“It was ever so dirty when it was found. And another -picture seemed to have been painted on the top -of it.”</p> - -<p>“Queer.” The eyes of Adolph Keller narrowed in -their intentness. “Who told you it was a Van Roon?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span></p> - -<p>“The man who gave it to me.”</p> - -<p>“Who told him?”</p> - -<p>“He found the signature.” June’s quiet precision -owed something to the fact that she was now fully and -rather deliciously aware of the effect she was making.</p> - -<p>“What!... The signature of Mynheer Van -Roon?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said June.</p> - -<p>The incredulity of Keller had yielded now to a powerful -curiosity. He looked at June with a keenness -he tried hard to veil. This was a very unlikely story, -yet he knew enough of life to appreciate the fact that -mere unlikelihood is no reason why a story should not -be true. Besides, this girl had such an ingenuous air -that it was impossible to believe her tale was a deliberate -invention. At the same time, it had elements which -were particularly hard to swallow.</p> - -<p>“Why was the picture given to you?”</p> - -<p>“I asked for it,” said June, whose simple honesty -now involved a tell-tale blush.</p> - -<p>Mr. Keller looked her steadily in the eye, and then -he laughed, but not unsympathetically.</p> - -<p>“Your best boy, I suppose, and he could deny you -nothing.”</p> - -<p>“That’s it,” said June awkwardly. This audacious -irony was new to her, and she did not know how to -meet it.</p> - -<p>“By the way, what is this young chap of yours? An -artist?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said June. “I suppose he is—in a way. He -studies art and renovates pictures, and he knows a lot -about them.”</p> - -<p>“Not so much as he thinks,” said Adolph Keller,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span> -“else he would not be such a fool as to give away -a Van Roon, even to a girl as nice and pretty as you -are.”</p> - -<p>He had lowered his voice to a whisper of rare -sweetness and carrying power. There was something -about him that was powerfully attractive; at the same -time, a look had crept into a pair of rather furtive eyes -which was oddly repellent.</p> - -<p>“Do you say you really have this picture in your -possession?” His intentness when he put this question -made June feel a little uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it has been given to me.”</p> - -<p>“Could you let me see it?”</p> - -<p>June hesitated.</p> - -<p>“I think I could,” she said, after a pause.</p> - -<p>“Well, suppose you bring it round to my studio for -me to look at?”</p> - -<p>Again June hesitated.</p> - -<p>“As you like, of course,” said Keller, carelessly. “I -was only thinking it might be worth your while, that’s -all. You see, I happen to know one or two dealers -and people, and I might be able to find out for you just -what it’s worth.”</p> - -<p>June saw the force of this. She was in desperate -straits, and this man had the appearance of a friend -in need.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I will,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Very well,” said the man. “When will you come?”</p> - -<p>For a moment June thought hard. “I couldn’t come -before Thursday.”</p> - -<p>“The day after to-morrow—that’ll suit me. What -time?”</p> - -<p>June continued to think hard. “It would have to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span> -between three and four.” She spoke with slow reluctance. -“That’s the only time I can really get away.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said the man, briskly. “You’ll find me -at the Haliburton Street Studios up till five o’clock on -Thursday. Number Four. Give a good ring; the bell -is a bit out of gear. My name is Keller. Can you remember -it, or shall I write it down for you, with the -address?”</p> - -<p>“Write them down for me, please.”</p> - -<p>The man tore a leaf from a pocket book, and wrote -his name and address with a fountain pen: Adolph -Keller, 4 Haliburton Street Studios, Manning Square, -Soho. When he had done this, and given it to her, he -tore out another leaf and asked her to write down hers. -This she accordingly did, and then the sudden thought -of William’s tea caused her to rise abruptly.</p> - -<p>Mr. Keller wished to pay her bill, which was five-pence, -but she declined to let him.</p> - -<p>“Au revoir! Thursday afternoon. Manning -Square is only about three minutes from here. Don’t -forget,” were the words with which he took leave of -her. “Bring it along. I dare say I’ll be able to tell you -whether it is genuine, and perhaps give you an idea of -its value.”</p> - -<p>He laughed slightly, and then offered his hand in a -very friendly manner. She took it with a reluctance -she was rather ashamed of showing. He was so kind, -so agreeable, so anxious to be of use that there seemed -no warrant for the subtle complexity of feeling he had -aroused in her.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXII">XXII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une’s</span> way home to New Cross Street was beset -with anxieties. Much would depend on what she -did now. She felt that her whole life was about to turn -on the decision she had to take in a very difficult -matter.</p> - -<p>There was no one to guide her, not a soul on whose -advice she might lean. But before she had returned -to the threshold of S. Gedge Antiques she had made a -resolve to get immediate possession of the picture, and -to let this Mr. Keller have a look at it. She did not -altogether like him, it was true. But the feeling was -irrational; she must be sensible enough not to let it set -her against him without due cause. For he was a -friend whom Providence had unmistakably thrown in -her way, and there was no other to whom she might -turn.</p> - -<p>William was a broken reed. With all his perception -and talent, he was likely to prove hopeless now that -Uncle Si was setting his wits to work to obtain the -picture for himself. William’s devotion to his master’s -interest would be simply fatal to her scheme. For -the sake of them both, June felt she must take a full -advantage of the heaven-sent opportunity provided by -this Mr. Keller.</p> - -<p>Other decisions, too, would have to be made. As -soon as Uncle Si knew the picture was hers, he would -almost certainly carry out his threat of putting her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span> -in the street; at least she was no judge of character -if the event proved otherwise. A means of livelihood -must be sought at once. That afternoon’s experience -of Oxford Street had opened up new vistas, which, -however, might lead nowhere. But even if she could -not get employment in a shop Mr. Keller’s offer of -work as an artist’s model at five shillings an hour must -not be lightly put aside.</p> - -<p>The first thing to be done, however, was to clinch -William’s gift of the picture once and for all. She -made up her mind that it should be fully consummated -before the return of Uncle Si from Newbury.</p> - -<p>As soon as William had been given his tea she -broached the subject. But when she asked for possession, -there and then, his crest fell.</p> - -<p>“I was still hoping, Miss June,” the simpleton -owned, “that you’d let the dear old master have this -lovely thing. It has come to mean so much to him, -you see. I will get another one for you.”</p> - -<p>“Not another Van Roon,” said June, sharply.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m afraid I couldn’t promise a Van Roon.” -A cloud passed over William’s face. “But I might be -able to pick up something quite good, which perhaps -you would come to like as much.”</p> - -<p>June shook a disconsolate head.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think,” she said, in a slow voice, as she fixed -her eyes on the wall in front of her, “there is another -picture in the world I should value so much as that -one. I simply love that picture.”</p> - -<p>William was troubled.</p> - -<p>“The old master loves it, too.”</p> - -<p>“But you gave it me, you know.” June was painfully -conscious of a swift deepening of colour.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span></p> - -<p>The plain fact was not denied.</p> - -<p>“You mustn’t think me very hard and grasping if I -hold you to the bargain.”</p> - -<p>“No, Miss June. If you insist, of course the picture -is yours.”</p> - -<p>“To do with just as I like.”</p> - -<p>“Why yes, certainly.”</p> - -<p>June proceeded to take the bull by the horns. “Very -well,” she said. “After supper, I shall ask you to hand -it over to me, and I will put it in a place of safety.”</p> - -<p>William sighed heavily. He seemed almost upon -the verge of tears. June simply loathed the part she -was playing. The only consolation was that she was -acting quite as much in his interest as in her own.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si came in shortly before eight. He sat down -to supper in quite a good humour. For once the old -man was in high conversational feather.</p> - -<p>It was clear that his mind was still full of the picture. -Without subscribing for one moment to William’s -preposterous theory that the thing was a genuine -Van Roon, he had had a further talk on the matter -with his friend, Mr. Thornton, with whom he had -travelled down to Newbury; and, he had arranged with -that gentleman to bring his friend, Monsieur Duponnet, -the famous Paris expert who was now in London, -to come and look at it on Thursday afternoon. Monsieur -Duponnet who knew more about Van Roon than -anybody living, and had had several pass through his -hands in the last ten years, would be able to say positively -whether William was wrong, and S. Gedge -Antiques was right, or with a devout gesture for which -June longed to pull his ugly nose, vice versâ.</p> - -<p>The time had now come for June to show her hand.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span> -Very quietly indeed her bolt was launched. William -had given the picture to her.</p> - -<p>The old man simply stared at her.</p> - -<p>It was clear, however, that his thoughts were running -so hard upon M. Duponnet and the higher potentialities -that just at first he was not able to grasp the -significance of June’s bald statement.</p> - -<p>So that there should be no doubt about the position -June modestly repeated it.</p> - -<p>“Given it to you!” said the old man, a light beginning -to break. “How do you mean—given it to you?”</p> - -<p>Calmly, patiently June threw a little more light on -the subject. And while she did so her eyes were fixed -with veiled defiance upon the face of Uncle Si. The -thought uppermost in her mind was that he took it far -better than could have been expected. “Given it to -you,” he kept on saying to himself softly. There was -no explosion. “Given it to you,” he kept on. He -grew a little green about the gills and that was all.</p> - -<p>At last he turned to William: “Boy, what’s this? Is -the girl daft?” The mildness of tone was astonishing.</p> - -<p>William explained as well as he could. It was a -lame and halting performance, and at that moment -June was not proud of him. But she was even less -proud of herself. The part she was playing, gloss it -over as one might, was ignoble. And William’s embarrassment -was rather painful to witness. He stammered -a good deal, he grew red and nervous; and all -the while the voice of his kind and good master became -more deeply reproachful, and melted finally in a -note of real pathos. “How could you do such a -thing?” he said. “Why you know as well as I do, my -boy, that I would have given you anything in reason<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span> -for that picture—anything in reason.” And there he -sat at his supper, the very image of outraged benevolence -and enthusiasm, a Christian with a halo!</p> - -<p>“Old Serpent” said the fierce eyes that June fixed -upon his face. For a moment it looked as if the old -wretch was going to shed tears. But no, he was content -with a mild snuffle and that was all.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIII">XXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">B</span>y</span> bedtime, when June went to her attic, she had -fully made up her mind that there must be no -half measures now. She feared Uncle Si more than -ever. There was something in that snuffle at the supper -table, in that whine of outraged feeling, in that -down-gazing eye which was far more formidable than -any mere outburst of violence. Here was such a depth -of hypocrisy that she had got to look out.</p> - -<p>A light was showing under the studio door. June’s -knock met with a prompt invitation to enter. William -was affectionately lingering over a few final touches, -which should prove beyond a doubt the authenticity of -this masterpiece.</p> - -<p>“Have you got it really clean at last?” said June, -trying to speak lightly, yet not succeeding. Emotional -strain could not be so easily concealed; and—uncomfortable -thought—her acting was not so finished as that -of Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said William, with a little thrill of rapture. -“And how wonderful it is!”</p> - -<p>June agreed. “Yes, wonderful!” Also with a little -thrill of rapture, yet loathing herself because her tone -was so vibrant—Uncle Si was not to have a walk over -after all! “And now if you don’t mind I’ll put it in a -place of safety.”</p> - -<p>He flashed one swift glance at her. “But, Miss -June, isn’t it quite safe here?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p> - -<p>“I should just think it wasn’t!” leapt to the tip of her -tongue. But Uncle Si’s masterly snuffle recalled to her -mind the value of meiosis. Thus she had recourse to a -gentle “I think I’ll sleep better if I take care of it myself,” -which sounded quite disarming.</p> - -<p>With one of his deep sighs which made her feel a -perfect beast, William handed over the picture. “If -you only knew, if you could only guess what pleasure -this exquisite thing would give the dear old -master——”</p> - -<p>Overcome by a kind of nausea, June fled headlong -to the room next door. She groped for her candle, -found and lit it; and then she proceeded to bury the -treasure at the bottom of her trunk. Heaping and -pressing down as many things upon the picture as -the trunk would hold, she locked it carefully, and put -the key in her purse. Then she undressed, knelt and -said her prayers; she then blew out the candle and -crept into bed with a stifling sense of disgust, tempered -by grim satisfaction.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIV">XXIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">N</span>ext</span> morning at the breakfast table, June looked -for developments. To her surprise, however, -things went their accustomed way, except that if anything -Uncle Si was a little more amiable than usual. -He made no reference to the Van Roon; but it was -referred to in his manner, inasmuch that he bore bacon -and coffee to his lips with the air of a known good man -deeply wounded in his private feelings. Not a feather -of this by-play was lost upon his niece; and no doubt -what was of more importance, it was not lost upon -William. But its impact was very different in the two -cases. While June simply longed to hit the Old Crocodile -upon his long and wicked nose, William seemed -hard set to refrain from tears.</p> - -<p>About midday, however, while June was in the back -kitchen preparing a meal, Uncle Si came to her.</p> - -<p>“Niece,” he said, in the new voice, whose softness -June found so formidable, “you remember the other -day I told you to look for a job?”</p> - -<p>June nodded.</p> - -<p>“Have you got one?”</p> - -<p>“No, I haven’t.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Mrs. R. is coming back on Monday, so the -sooner you get fixed up the better. Your best plan, I -think, is to go this afternoon and have your name put -down at a registry office as a cook-general. Cook-generals<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span> -earn good money, and they live all found. -Your cooking won’t be the Carlton or the Ritz, of -course”—a gleam of frosty humour played upon that -subtle face—“but you seem strong and willing, and -you know how to boil a potato, and no doubt you’ll -improve with experience.”</p> - -<p>June was inclined to curtsey. The old wretch -plainly felt that he was giving her a handsome testimonial. -But at the back of her mind was anger and -contempt, and it was as much as she could do to prevent -their peeping out.</p> - -<p>After dinner, as soon as the table was clear, and the -pots washed, she proceeded to take Uncle Si at his -word. She decided to go out at once and look for a -place which, however, except as a last resort, should -not be domestic service. To begin with, she would try -the shops, or perhaps the dressmakers, as her mother -always said she was handy with her needle; or, failing -these, she might consider the exciting proposal of becoming -an artist’s model.</p> - -<p>Fixing her hat before the crazy looking glass the -thought of Mr. Keller recurred to her mind. Had the -day only been Thursday she could have taken the picture -to him there and then, and had his opinion upon -it. Not that such a course would have been altogether -wise. She knew nothing about this new and rather -mysterious acquaintance, beyond the fact that if speech -and manner meant anything he was a gentleman. Certainly, -to talk to he was most agreeable.</p> - -<p>Before setting out on her pilgrimage, she had to -make up her mind as to whether it would not be advisable -to take the Van Roon with her, and put it in a -place of safety. So long as it remained under that roof<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span> -it was in jeopardy. Uncle Si was not to be trusted an -inch. The fact, however, that she had nowhere to take -the treasure decided her finally to let it stay where it -was until the next day.</p> - -<p>Anyway, it was under lock and key. That was something -to be thankful for; yet as she came downstairs -and passed through the shop into New Cross Street, -drawing on her neat black gloves with a sinking heart, -instinct told her that she was taking a grave risk in -leaving the picture behind.</p> - -<p>No, S. Gedge Antiques was not to be trusted for a -moment. Of that she was quite sure. By the time -she had gone twenty yards along the street this feeling -of insecurity took such a hold upon her that she stopped -abruptly, and faced about. To go back? Or not to go -back? Indecision was unlike her, but never was it so -hard to make up her mind. Could it be that Uncle Si -was as wicked as she thought? Perhaps she had now -become the prey of her own guilty conscience. In any -case, she knew of nowhere just then in which to place -the precious thing; and this fact it was that turned the -scale and finally settled the question.</p> - -<p>She went down to the Strand, and took a bus to -Oxford Circus. That Mecca, alas, did not prove nearly -so stimulating as the previous afternoon. As soon as -she came really to grips with that most daunting of all -tasks, “the looking for a job,” her hopes and her courage -were woefully dashed. Real pluck was needed to -enter such a palace as David Jones Limited, to go up -without faltering to some haughty overseer in a frock -coat and spats and ask if an assistant was wanted.</p> - -<p>Three times, in various shops, she screwed herself -to the heroic pitch of asking that difficult question.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span> -Three times she met with a chilling response. And -the only gleam of hope was on the last occasion.</p> - -<p>“There is one vacancy, I believe,” said Olympian -Zeus. “But all applicants must apply by letter for a -personal interview with the manager.”</p> - -<p>Sooner than renew the attempt just then, June felt -she would prefer to die. A girl from the provinces, -new to London and its ways, without credentials or -friends, or knowledge of “the ropes” must not expect -to be taken on, at any rate in Oxford Street.</p> - -<p>Much cast down she returned to her teashop of yesterday. -Seated at the same table, her mind went back -to the fascinating acquaintance she had made there. -Was it possible that a career had been offered her? -Or was the suggestion of this new friend merely the -outcome of a keen interest in the picture?</p> - -<p>It could not be so entirely, because she clearly remembered -that Mr. Keller had proposed her sitting to -him as a model before she had mentioned the picture -at all.</p> - -<p>She went back to New Cross Street in a state of -gloom; her mind was dominated by a sense of being -“up against it.” And this unhappy feeling was not -softened by the discovery she made as soon as she entered -that cold and uninviting garret. In her absence -the lock of her trunk had been forced and the picture -taken away.</p> - -<p>The tragedy was exactly what she had foreseen. -But faced by the bitter fact she was swept by a tempest -of rage. It could only be the work of one person. Her -fear and dislike of Uncle Si rose to hatred now.</p> - -<p>In a surge of anger she went downstairs and in the -presence of William charged Uncle Si.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></p> - -<p>“You’ve been at my box,” she stormed.</p> - -<p>He looked at her with a kind of calm pensiveness -over the top of his spectacles.</p> - -<p>“If you lock away things, my girl, that don’t belong -to you, I’m afraid you’ll have to stand the racket.” So -lofty, so severe was the old man’s tone that for the -moment June was staggered.</p> - -<p>“It’s stealing,” she cried, returning hectic to the -attack.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si waggled a magisterial finger in her face. -“Niece,” he said, with a quietude which put her at a -disadvantage, “I must ask you not to make an exhibition -of yourself. Have the goodness to hold your -tongue.”</p> - -<p>June maintained the charge. “The picture’s mine. -William gave it me. You’ve broken open my box and -stolen it.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, after a mild side glance in the -direction of William, proceeded to fix a glacial eye -upon his niece. “What I have to say is this.” His tone -was more magisterial than ever. “At present, my girl, -you are under age, and as long as you live with me the -law regards me as your guardian. And, as I have told -William already, in my opinion you are not a fit and -proper person to have the care of a thing so valuable -as this picture may prove to be. Mind you,”—the old -fox gave William a meaningful look—“I don’t go so -far as to say that it <i>is</i> valuable, but I say that it <i>might</i> -be. And, in that case, I can’t allow a mere ignorant -girl from the country who, in a manner of speaking, -doesn’t know the letter A from a pig’s foot to accept -it from you, my boy. It’s very generous of you, and -I hope she’s thanked you properly, but if I allow her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span> -to take it, some unscrupulous dealer is sure to bamboozle -her out of it. That’s assuming it’s valuable, -which, of course, I don’t go so far as to say that it is.”</p> - -<p>“Thief!” stormed June. “Wicked thief!”</p> - -<p>However, she knew well enough that it was a real -pity to let her feelings get the better of her; it enabled -the Old Crocodile to shine so much by comparison. He -addressed himself to William in his most sanctimonious -manner. For the good of all concerned, such a bee-yew-ti-ful -thing—it sickened June to see the old humbug -lift his eyes to heaven—must be cared for by him -personally. An uneducated mawkin could not hope to -appreciate a work of art of that quality, and if anything -happened to it, as in such hands something inevitably -must, William’s master would never be able to forgive -himself, he wouldn’t really!</p> - -<p>The old man spoke so gently and so plausibly and -hovered at times so near to tears, that William would -have been less than human not to have been moved by -his words. Uncle Si had not the least difficulty in making -clear to his assistant that he was swayed by the -highest motives. His own private regard for the picture, -which, of course, William must know was intense, -did not enter into the case at all; but wisdom -and experience declared that until Monsieur Duponnet -of Paris had seen the picture it must remain in responsible -hands.</p> - -<p>“But I tell you the picture’s mine, mine, mine!” -cried June.</p> - -<p>No, the picture was William’s. That outstanding -fact was emphasized again in his master’s kindly -voice. Was he not William’s guardian also in the eyes -of the law? Not for a moment could he think of allowing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span> -the young man in a fit of weak generosity to -give away a thing that might prove to be a real work -of art.</p> - -<p>June was a little disappointed by William’s attitude -in the matter. The way in which he submitted to Uncle -Si did him no credit. Surely the picture was his to do -with as he chose; yet to judge by Uncle Si’s handling -of the affair the young man had no right to dispose of -it. June deplored this lack of spirit. He should have -fought for his own. At the same time, her mind was -tormented by the unpleasant thought that he really -wanted to revoke his gift.</p> - -<p>The more she considered the position, the less she -liked it. She could not rid herself of a feeling that -she was playing an unworthy part. It was all very well -to regard her actions as strictly in William’s interest. -But were they? She was haunted by a sense of having -descended perilously near to the level of Uncle Si himself.</p> - -<p>Anyhow, she had tried her best to outwit S. Gedge -Antiques. And he had outwitted her. There was no -disguising it. Both were playing the same game, the -same crooked game, and it seemed that Uncle Si, as -was only to be expected, was able to play it much better -than could she. The artful old fox had bested her -with her own weapons. Were they not equally unscrupulous? -Was not William the toy of both?</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXV">XXV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">I</span>n</span> the course of the next morning, June was informed -by Uncle Si, with his most sanctimonious -air that “he could not pass over her impudence, and that -she had better pack her box and go.” Moreover, that -force might be lent to this ukase, he sternly summoned -William from the lumber room, and ordered the young -man to help her down with her box as soon as it was -ready; and then he must fetch her a cab.</p> - -<p>This was more than June had bargained for. She -was expecting to be kicked out; but she had not looked -for the process to be quite so summary. It did not -suit her plans at all.</p> - -<p>“Get a room for yourself in a decent neighbourhood,” -said the old man. “Mrs. Runciman will know -of one, no doubt. You’ve money enough to keep you -while you look for work.”</p> - -<p>June’s swift mind, however, saw instant disadvantages. -Secretly, she cherished the hope, a slender one, -no doubt, of being able to discover where the picture -was hid. Once, however, she left the house that hope -would vanish. And it was painfully clear that it was -Uncle Si’s recognition of this fact which now made -him so determined to be quit of her.</p> - -<p>The old serpent was fully alive to what lay at the -back of her mind. He knew that so long as she slept -under his roof the picture could never be safe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span></p> - -<p>She was shrewd enough to size up the position at -once. Reading the purpose in the heart of Uncle Si -she told him plainly that much as she disliked her -present address she did not propose to change it until -her lawful property had been restored to her.</p> - -<p>“You are going to leave this place within an hour, -my girl, for good and all.”</p> - -<p>“I shall not,” said June flatly. “Until you give me -the picture, I don’t intend to stir.”</p> - -<p>“The picture is not yours. You are not a fit person -to have it. And if you don’t go quietly your box will -be put into the street.”</p> - -<p>“Dare to touch my box again, and I shall go straight -to the police.”</p> - -<p>Uncle Si didn’t care a straw for the police. She had -not the slightest claim upon him; in fact she was living -on his charity. As for the picture, it had nothing whatever -to do with the matter.</p> - -<p>At this point it was that William came out in his -true colours. He had been standing by, unwilling witness -of these passages. Anxiously concerned, he could -no longer keep silent.</p> - -<p>“Beg your pardon, sir,” he said, stammering painfully, -and flushing deeply, “but if Miss June leaves -the house, I’m afraid I’ll have to go as well.”</p> - -<p>This was a thunderbolt. S. Gedge Antiques opened -his mouth in wide astonishment. He gasped like a -carp. The atmospheric displacement was terrific. -Slowly the old man took off his “selling” spectacles, -and replaced them with his “buying” ones. Certainly -the effect was to make him look a shade less truculent, -but at the moment there was no other result. “Boy, -don’t talk like a fool,” was all he could say.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span></p> - -<p>William, however, was not to be moved. He never -found it easy to make up his mind; for him to reach a -decision in things that mattered was a slow and trying -process. But the task achieved it was for good or ill. -His stammers and blushes were a little ludicrous, he -seemed near to tears, but the open hostility of his -master could not turn him an inch.</p> - -<p>“Never in my born days did I hear the like.” S. -Gedge Antiques seethed like a vipers’ nest. “Boy, -you ought to be bled for the simples to let a paltry -hussy get round you in this way.”</p> - -<p>“Give me the picture, Uncle Si,” cried the paltry -hussy, with a force that made him blink, “and I’ll take -precious good care you don’t see me again.”</p> - -<p>The old man whinnied with rage. But he had not -the least intention of giving up the picture; nor had -he the least intention of giving up that which was -almost as valuable, the services of his right-hand man. -William was irreplaceable. And the instant his master -realised that this odd fellow was very much in earnest, -he saw that there was only one line to take. He must -temporize. With all the tact he could muster, and on -occasion the old man could muster a good deal, the -Old Crocodile proceeded to do so.</p> - -<p>The “firing” of his niece should stand in abeyance -for the time being. He gave solemn warning, however, -that she must get a job right away, as his mind was -quite made up that he was not going to find house room -for the likes of her an hour longer than he could help. -As for the boy, of whom he had always held such a -high opinion ever since the day he had first picked him -out of the gutter and upon whom he had lavished a -father’s kindness, he was really quite at a loss—with a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span> -snuffle of heart-melting pathos—to know how to put his -deeply wounded feelings into words.</p> - -<p>For June, all the same, the upshot was victory. The -inevitable packing of her box could be postponed to -her own good time. But well she knew that the reprieve -was due to William and to him alone. It was -his splendidly timed intervention that had enabled her -to win the day.</p> - -<p>The previous evening harsh thoughts of the Sawney -had crept into her heart. After giving her the picture, -surely it was his duty to take a stronger line upon the -rape of it. But that phase of weakness was forgotten -now. He had come out nobly. At a most critical -moment he had fought her battle; and he had fought -it with magical effect.</p> - -<p>All was forgiven. He was O. K.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVI">XXVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> was dominated now by a single thought. By -hook or by crook she must get back the picture -before she left that house. If she failed to do so, she -would never see it again, and there would be an end -of all her hopes. Exactly what these hopes were she -did not venture to ask herself; in any case, they would -not have been easy to put into words. But she felt -in a vague way that William’s future and her own -were bound up in them.</p> - -<p>It was clear that the picture was concealed somewhere -upon the premises, because Mr. Thornton and his -friend, M. Duponnet, were coming there the next day -to look at it. June was quick to realize that this fact -offered a measure of opportunity which, slender as it -was, must certainly be used. No other was in the least -likely to come her way.</p> - -<p>Three o’clock on Thursday afternoon she had learned -already was the hour of the appointment. It was now -the afternoon of Wednesday. No matter what the -penalty, if flesh and blood could contrive it, she must -be present at this interview, and see what happened to -the treasure.</p> - -<p>Despair heavy upon her, she lay awake the best part -of the night searching her mind for a plan of action. -But the quest seemed hopeless. Uncle Si could so easily -thwart any scheme she might evolve. And he would -not have a scruple. She must outwit him somehow,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span> -but to outwit one of such cunning was a task for a -brain far stronger and nimbler than hers.</p> - -<p>Lying up there in her comfortless bed, wild thoughts -flocking round her pillow like so many evil spirits, the -whole sorry affair was as haunting as a bad dream. -And, interwoven with it, in the most fantastic way, was -the shop below, and more particularly the Hoodoo, -the presiding genius, which now stood forth in June’s -mind as the replica of Uncle Si himself. He was surely -possessed by a devil, and this heathen joss as surely -embodied it.</p> - -<p>On Thursday morning June rose early. She was in -a mood of desperation. Little sleep had come to her in -the long and dreary night hours. But, in spite of feeling -quite worn out, her determination to “best” Uncle -Si and regain her own property had not grown less. -No ray was to be seen anywhere, yet defiant of fate as -she still was, the time had not yet come to admit even -to herself that all was lost.</p> - -<p>As dustpan and brush in hand she began the day’s -work, more than one reckless expedient crossed her -mind. In the last resort she might put the matter in -the hands of the police. If she could have counted on -William’s support, she would have been tempted to do -this, but the rub was, he could not be depended on at -all. Nobly as he had fought her recent battle, it was -clear that so far as the picture itself was concerned, -his sympathies were wholly with Uncle Si. Even if -he did not deny that the picture was her lawful property -he had certainly done his best to revoke his gift.</p> - -<p>No, she would gain nothing by calling in the police. -She must find some other way. During the night a -wild plan had entered her mind. And if in the course<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span> -of the morning no scheme more hopeful occurred to -her, she was now resolved to act upon it.</p> - -<p>To this end, she began at once to throw dust in the -eyes of Uncle Si. At the breakfast table he was told -that she meant to spend the afternoon looking for a -job if, with a modest eye on her plate, “he had no -objection.”</p> - -<p>The Old Crocodile had not the least objection. With -gusto he assured her that it was quite the best thing -she could do. Privately he assured himself that he -didn’t want her hanging around the place while he was -transacting business of great importance with Mr. -Thornton and Monsieur Duponnet. Ever in the forefront -of his mind was the fact that these gentlemen -were coming to see him at three o’clock.</p> - -<p>About an hour before the time appointed the old fox -sent William on an errand which would keep him away -most of the afternoon. And further to ensure that -the coast should be quite clear, S. Gedge Antiques said -sharply to his niece, “Go and put on your hat, my girl, -and make yourself scarce. Get after that job you spoke -about. I won’t have you hanging around while these -gentlemen are here.”</p> - -<p>June, however, had other views. And these, whatever -they were, she was at great pains not to disclose. -First she watched William go innocently forth on a -long bus ride to Richmond. Next she made sure that -Uncle Si was composing himself in his armchair for -his usual “forty winks” after dinner. And then she -proceeded boldly to develop her audacious design.</p> - -<p>To start with, she crept into the front shop and surveyed -the Hoodoo. The quaintly hideous vase was -fully six feet tall, its body huge, its mouth wide. Was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span> -it possible to get inside? There was little doubt that -if she was able to do so, this curious monster was quite -large enough to conceal her.</p> - -<p>She saw at once that the task before her was no -light one. But by the side of the Hoodoo, inscrutable -Providence had placed a genuine antique in the shape -of a gate-legged table, £4.19.6—a great bargain. The -sight of this was encouraging. She climbed onto it. -And then wedging the Hoodoo most cunningly between -the table and the wall, and artfully disposing her own -weight, so that the monster might not tip over, she -lowered herself with the caution and agility of a cat -into the roomy interior.</p> - -<p>It was almost a feat for an acrobat, but she managed -it somehow. Keeping tight hold of the rim as she -swung both legs over, her feet touched bottom with the -vase still maintaining the perpendicular. The space -inside was ample, and without even the need to bend, -the top of her head was invisible. Near the top of the -vase, moreover, was the monster’s open mouth, a narrow -slit studded with teeth, which not only afforded a -means of ventilation, but also through which, to June’s -devout joy, she was able to peer.</p> - -<p>For such a crowning boon on the part of Providence -she had every reason to feel grateful. So far everything -was miraculously right. Her daring had met -with more success than could have been hoped for. -One problem remained, however, which at that moment -she did not venture to look in the face. To get into -the vase was one thing; to get out of it would be quite -another.</p> - -<p>No friendly table could avail her now. In ascending -that sheer and slippery face of painted metal-work,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span> -she must not expect help from outside when the time -came to escape from her prison. Besides one incautious -movement might cause the whole thing to topple. And -if topple it did, the results would be dire.</p> - -<p>This, however, was not the time to consider that -aspect of the case. Let her be thankful for a concealment -so perfect which allowed her to breathe and to -see without being seen or her presence suspected. For -such material benefits she must lift up her heart; and -hope for the best when the time came to get out. With -a sense of grim satisfaction she set herself “to lie -doggo,” and await the next turn in a game that was -full of peril.</p> - -<p>It was not long before Uncle Si shambled into the -shop. June could see him quite clearly, as he came in -with that furtive air which she had learned to know so -well. First he took off his spectacles and applied to -them vigorously a red bandanna handkerchief. Then -he peered cautiously round to make sure that he was -alone.</p> - -<p>June had not dared to hope that the picture was concealed -in the shop; and yet it offered every facility. -There were many nooks and crannies, and the whole -place was crammed with old pieces of furniture, bric-à-brac, -curios. But June had felt that S. Gedge Antiques -was not likely to run the risk of hiding his -treasure in the midst of these. She thought that his -bedroom, under lock and key, was the most likely place -of all.</p> - -<p>Howbeit, with a sharp thrill, half torment, half delight, -she saw that this was not the case. Within a -few feet of the Hoodoo itself was an old oak chest -which Uncle Si cautiously drew aside. The very spot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span> -whereon it had rested contained a loose board. He -took a small chisel from a drawer in the counter, -prised up the board and from beneath it took forth -the buried treasure.</p> - -<p>Long and lovingly the old man looked at it, hugging -it to his breast more than once in the process, and as -he did so June was reminded irresistibly of the Miser -Gaspard in “Les Cloches des Corneville,” that famous -play she had once seen at the Theatre Royal, Blackhampton. -To hide such a thing in such a place was a -regular miser’s trick. It was just what she had expected -of him. Presently a grandfather clock, with a -Westminster Abbey face, “guaranteed Queen Anne,” -chimed the hour of three. June could scarcely breathe -for excitement. Her heart seemed to rise in her throat -and choke her.</p> - -<p>At five minutes past three came Mr. Thornton and -Monsieur Duponnet. The Frenchman was a small and -dapper personage, with a keen eye and a neat imperial. -In manner he was much quieter than tradition exacts -of a Frenchman, but it was easy to tell that Uncle Si -was much impressed by him. Louis Quinze-legs, too, -was full of deference. That gentleman, whose face was -almost as foxy as that of Uncle Si himself, and about -whose lips a thin smile flitted perpetually, had an air -of tacit homage for the smallest remark of M. Duponnet, -who was clearly a man of great consequence if the -bearing of Mr. Thornton was anything to go by.</p> - -<p>June, at the back of the shop, inside the Hoodoo and -her keen eyes hidden by its half-open jaws, which, in -addition to other advantages was partly masked by a -litter of bric-à-brac, was in a position to gain full -knowledge of all that passed between these three. To<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span> -begin with, S. Gedge Antiques ceremoniously handed -the picture to Louis Quinze-legs who, with a fine gesture, -handed it to Monsieur Duponnet.</p> - -<p>The Frenchman examined the canvas back and front -through his own private glass, scratched portions of it -with his nail, pursed his lips, rubbed his nose, and no -doubt would have shrugged his shoulders had not that -been such a jejune thing for a Frenchman to do.</p> - -<p>With a deference that was quite impressive, Mr. -Thornton and S. Gedge Antiques waited for M. Duponnet -to say something.</p> - -<p>“Ze tail of ze R. is a little faint, hein!” was what he -said.</p> - -<p>“But it is a tail, Mussewer,” said S. Gedge Antiques -in a robust voice.</p> - -<p>“And it is an R,” said polite Mr. Thornton, as he -bent over the picture.</p> - -<p>“You can bet your life on that,” said S. Gedge -Antiques.</p> - -<p>M. Duponnet did not seem inclined to wager anything -so valuable as his life. After a little hesitation, -which involved further minute examination through -his glass, he was ready to take the ‘R’ for granted. But -he went on to deplore the fact that the picture was without -a pedigree.</p> - -<p>“A pedigree, Mussewer!” It was now the turn of -S. Gedge Antiques to rub his nose.</p> - -<p>M. Duponnet succinctly explained, with the air of a -man expounding a commonplace in the world of art, -that Van Roons were so few, their qualities so rare, -their monetary value so considerable, that as soon as -one came into the market its history was eagerly scrutinised. -And should one suddenly appear that previously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span> -had not been known to exist it would have to -run the gauntlet of the most expert criticism.</p> - -<p>“May be, Mussewer!” S. Gedge Antiques wagged a -dour head. “But that’s not going to alter the fact that -this be-yew-ti-ful thing is a genuine Van Roon.”</p> - -<p>In a manner of speaking it would not, agreed M. -Duponnet, but it might detract considerably from its -market value.</p> - -<p>“That’s as may be.” The old man suddenly assumed -quite a high tone.</p> - -<p>M. Duponnet and Mr. Thornton took the picture to -the other side of the shop and conferred together. -So low were their voices that neither Uncle Si nor -June could hear a word of what passed between them. -Times and again they held the canvas to the light. -They laid it on a tallboys, and pored over it; they -borrowed the microscope of one another and made -great show of using it; and then finally Mr. Thornton -crossed the floor and said to Uncle Si, who was -handling a piece of Waterford glass with the most -pensive unconcern: “What’s your price, Mr. Gedge?”</p> - -<p>“Heh?” said the old man, as if emerging from a -beautiful dream. “Price? You had better name one.”</p> - -<p>Excitement at this point seemed to cause June’s -heart to stop beating.</p> - -<p>“The trouble is,” said Mr. Thornton, “our friend, -M. Duponnet, is not quite convinced that it is a Van -Roon.”</p> - -<p>“But there’s the signature.”</p> - -<p>“It seems to have been touched up a bit.”</p> - -<p>“Not by me,” said S. Gedge Antiques, austerely.</p> - -<p>“We don’t think that for a moment,” said Mr. -Thornton, in a voice of honey. “But the signature is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span> -by no means so clear as it might be, and in the absence -of a pedigree M. Duponnet does not feel justified in -paying a big price.”</p> - -<p>There was a pause while the old man indulged in a -dramatic change of spectacles. And then he said rather -sourly, in a tone that M. Duponnet could not fail to -hear: “Pedigree or no pedigree, I shall have no difficulty -in selling it. You know as well as I do, Mr. -Thornton, that American buyers are in the market.”</p> - -<p>“Quite so, Mr. Gedge,” said Mr. Thornton suavely. -And then while Uncle Si glared at both gentlemen as -if they had been caught with their hands in his pocket, -they conferred again together. This time it was M. -Duponnet who ended their discussion by saying: “Meester -Gedge, name your figure!”</p> - -<p>“Figure?” said Uncle Si dreamily; and then in his -odd way he scratched his scrub of whisker with a -thumbnail and rubbed a forefinger down his long and -foxlike nose.</p> - -<p>“Your price, Meester Gedge?”</p> - -<p>“Mussewer!” said the old man solemnly, “I couldn’t -take less than five thousand pounds, I couldn’t really.”</p> - -<p>June held her breath. For some little time past she -had been convinced that the picture was valuable, but -she was hardly prepared for this fabulous sum.</p> - -<p>M. Duponnet shook his head. “Meester Gedge, if -only we had its ’istory!”</p> - -<p>“If we had its history, Mussewer, I should want at -least twice the money. Even as it is I am taking a big -chance. You know that as well as I do.”</p> - -<p>This seemed to be true. At all events, M. Duponnet -and Mr. Thornton again talked earnestly together.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span> -Once more they fingered that rather dilapidated canvas. -Head to head they bent over it yet again; and then -suddenly M. Duponnet looked up and came abruptly -across to the old man.</p> - -<p>“Meester Gedge,” he said, “I can’t go beyond four -t’ousand pounds. That is my limit!”</p> - -<p>“Five, Mussewer Duponny, that is mine,” said Uncle -Si, with a dark smile.</p> - -<p>It was a jejune thing for a French gentleman to do, -but at this point M. Duponnet really and truly gave his -shoulders a shrug, and advanced three paces towards -the shop door. Uncle Si did not stir a muscle. And -then M. Duponnet faced about and said: “Guineas, -Meester Gedge, I’ll give four t’ousand guineas, and -that’s my last word.”</p> - -<p>Uncle Si having no pretensions to be considered a -French gentleman, did not hesitate to give his own -shoulders a shrug. It was his turn then to confer with -the discreet and knowledgeable Mr. Thornton, who it -was clear was acting the difficult part of a go-between.</p> - -<p>June heard that gentleman say in an audible whisper: -“A fair price, Mr. Gedge, for the thing as it stands. -It hasn’t a pedigree, and to me that signature looks a -bit doubtful. In the market it may fetch more or it -may fetch less, but at the same time four thousand -guineas is a fine insurance.”</p> - -<p>Finished dissembler as Uncle Si was, even he did -not seek to deny the truth of this. There could be no -gainsaying that four thousand guineas <i>was</i> a fine insurance. -True, if the picture proved to be a veritable -Van Roon it might fetch many times that sum. In that -shrewd mind, no bigger miracle was needed for the -thing to turn out a <i>chef d’œuvre</i> than that it should<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span> -prove to be worth the sum offered by M. Duponnet. -Either contingency seemed too good to be true. Besides, -S. Gedge Antiques belonged to a conservative -school, among whose articles of faith was a certain -trite proverb about a bird in the hand.</p> - -<p>It went to the old man’s heart to accept four thousand -guineas for a work that might be worth so very -much more. June could hear him breathing heavily. -In her tense ear that sound dominated even the furious -beating of her own heart. A kind of dizziness came -over her, as only too surely she understood that the -wicked old man was giving in. Before her very eyes -he was going to surrender her own private property for -a fabulous sum.</p> - -<p>“Four t’ousand guineas, Meester Gedge,” said M. -Duponnet, with quite an air of nonchalance. But he -knew well enough that the old man was about to “fall.”</p> - -<p>“It’s giving it away, Mussewer,” whined Uncle Si. -“It’s giving it away.”</p> - -<p>“Zat I don’t t’ink, Meester Gedge,” said the French -gentleman, quietly unbuttoning his coat and taking a -fountain pen and a cheque book from an inner pocket. -“It’s a risque—a big risque. It may not be Van Roon -at all—and zen where are we?”</p> - -<p>“You know as well as I do that it’s a Van Roon,” -Uncle Si verged almost upon tears.</p> - -<p>“Very well, Meester Gedge, if you prefer ze big -chance.” And cheque book in hand the French gentleman -paused.</p> - -<p>June was torn. And she could tell by the strange -whine in the rasping voice that the Old Crocodile was -also torn.</p> - -<p>At this moment of crisis, Mr. Thornton interposed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span> -with masterful effect. “In my humble opinion,” he -said, “it’s a very fair offer for the thing as it stands.”</p> - -<p>“You are thinking of your ten per cent. commission, -my boy,” said S. Gedge Antiques with a gleam of -malice.</p> - -<p>“Well, Meester Gedge,” said M. Duponnet, “take it -or leave it.” And the French gentleman began to fold -up his cheque book.</p> - -<p>With a groan to rend a heart of stone, S. Gedge -Antiques brought himself suddenly to accept the offer. -Half suffocated by excitement, June watched M. Duponnet -cross to the desk and proceed to write out a -cheque for four thousand guineas. And as she did -so her heart sank. She was quite sure that she was -looking upon the picture for the last time.</p> - -<p>In jumping to this conclusion, however, she had -not made full allowance for the business capacity of -Uncle Si. When M. Duponnet had filled in the cheque -and handed it to him, the Old Crocodile scrutinised it -very carefully indeed, and then he said: “Thank you, -Mussewer Duponny. The bank closes at three. But -to-morrow morning I’ll take this round myself as soon -as it opens. And if the manager says it’s all right, -you can have the picture whenever you like.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Bien!</i>” The Frenchman bowed politely. “Meanwhile, -take good care of the picture. There are many -thieves about.” M. Duponnet laughed. “Mind you -lock it up in a safe place.”</p> - -<p>“You can trust Mr. Gedge to do that, I think,” said -Louis Quinze-legs dryly.</p> - -<p>“I hope so, I’m sure,” said the old man with a frosty -smile.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span></p> - -<p>“<i>Soit!</i>” M. Duponnet smiled too. “I’ll call for it -myself to-morrow morning at twelve.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Mussewer!”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques gave his visitors a bow as they -went up to the shop door, and ushered them ceremoniously -into the not particularly inviting air of New -Cross Street.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVII">XXVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>ust</span> at first June was unable to realise that M. -Duponnet had not taken the picture away with him. -The blood seemed to drum against her brain while -she watched Uncle Si turn over the cheque in his long -talon fingers and then transfer it to a leather case, -which he returned to his breast pocket with a deep sigh. -Afterwards he took up the picture from the table on -which he had set it down and then June grasped the -fact that the treasure was still there.</p> - -<p>The face which bent over it now was not that of a -happy man. It was a complex of emotions, deep and -stern. The price was huge for a thing that had cost -him nothing, but—and there it was that the shoe -pinched!—if it should prove to be a real Van Roon, -he might be parting with it for a song.</p> - -<p>June could read his thoughts like an open book. He -wanted to eat his cake and have it too. She would -have been inclined to pity him had her hatred and her -scorn been less. In his cunning and his greed he was a -tragic figure, with a thing of incomparable beauty in -his hand whose sole effect was to give him the look of -an evil bird of prey. Utter rascal as she knew him to -be now, she shivered to think how easy it would be -for herself to grow just like him. Her very soul was -fixed upon the recovery of this wonderful thing which, -in the first place, she had obtained by a trick. And -did she covet it for its beauty? Or was it for the reason<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span> -which at this moment made Uncle Si a creature so ill to -look upon? To such questions there could only be one -answer.</p> - -<p>For the time being, however, these things were -merged in the speculation far more momentous: What -will the Old Crocodile do now? She was feeling so -uncomfortable in her narrow hiding place, which prevented -all movement, and almost forbade her to breathe, -that she hoped devoutly the old wretch would lose no -time in putting back the treasure.</p> - -<p>This, alas, was not to be. The picture was still in -the hand of Uncle Si, who still pored over it like a -moulting vulture, when a luxurious motor glided up -to the shop door. Almost at once the shop was invaded -by two persons, who in the sight of June had a look of -notable importance.</p> - -<p>The first of these, whom June immediately recognised, -was the tall, fashionable girl whose visit had -caused her such heart-burning the week before. She -was now accompanied by a gentleman who beyond a -doubt was her distinguished father.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Mr. Gedge!” It was twenty past -three by the afternoon, but June was ready to take a -Bible oath that Miss Blue Blood said “good morning.” -“I’ve persuaded my father to come and look at this -amazing vase.” And with her <i>en-tout-cas</i> Miss Blue -Blood pointed straight at the Hoodoo.</p> - -<p>Feeling herself to be a rat caught neatly in a trap, -June at once crouched lower. The Hoodoo being fully -six feet tall and her own stoop considerable, she was -able to take comfort from the fact that just then no -part of her own head was showing. But how long was -she likely to remain invisible? That was a question for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span> -the gods. And it was further complicated by the knowledge -that the Hoodoo’s mouth was open, and that the -point of Miss Blue Blood’s green umbrella might easily -find a way through.</p> - -<p>A-shiver with fear June tried to subdue her wild -heart, while Miss Babraham, her father, Sir Arthur, -and S. Gedge Antiques gathered round the Hoodoo. -She hardly dared to breathe. The least sound would -betray her. And in any case, one of the three had -merely to stand on an adjacent coffin stool and peer -over the top for the murder to be out.</p> - -<p>The tragedy which June so clearly foresaw was not -permitted to take place at once. Plainly the fates were -inclined to toy with their victim for a while. Miss -Blue Blood’s laugh—how rich and deep it was!—rang -in her ears and made them burn as she gave the Hoodoo -a prod and cried out in her gay Miss-Banks-like manner, -“Papa, I ask you, did you ever see anything quite -like it?”</p> - -<p>“By George, no!” laughed that connoisseur.</p> - -<p>“It’s such a glorious monster,” said his enthusiastic -daughter standing on tiptoe, “that one can’t even see -over the top.”</p> - -<p>“Puts one in mind,” said Sir Arthur, “of the Arabian -Nights and the Cave of the Forty Robbers.”</p> - -<p>“The long gallery at Homefield is the very place for -it!”</p> - -<p>“I wonder!” The connoisseur tapped the Hoodoo -with his walking stick and turned to S. Gedge Antiques. -“Do you happen to know where it came from?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“From a Polynesian temple in the South Sea Islands, -I believe, sir,” said Uncle Si, glibly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p> - -<p>“What do you want for it?” And Sir Arthur tapped -the Hoodoo again.</p> - -<p>“I’ll take thirty pounds, sir.” It was the voice of a -man bringing himself to part with a valuable tooth. -“Sixty was the sum I paid for it some years ago. -But it isn’t everybody’s fancy, and it swallows a small -place.”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur observed with pleasant humour that such -a monstrosity ought to be taken over by the nation. -S. Gedge Antiques, with a humour that strove to be -equally pleasant, concurred.</p> - -<p>At this point, to June’s mortal terror, Miss Babraham -made a second attempt to look over the top.</p> - -<p>“Stand on this coffin stool, Miss,” said S. Gedge -Antiques, politely producing that article from the collection -of bric-à-brac around the Hoodoo.</p> - -<p>June’s heart stood still. The game was up. Sickly -she closed her eyes. But Providence had one last card -to play.</p> - -<p>“Thank you so much,” said Miss Babraham. “But -it won’t bear my weight, I’m afraid. No, I don’t -think I’ll risk it. There’s really nothing to see inside.”</p> - -<p>Uncle Si agreed that there was really nothing to see -inside; and June breathed again.</p> - -<p>“Thirty pounds isn’t much, papa, for such a glorious -monstrosity.” Miss Blue Blood had evidently set her -heart on it.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur, however, expressed a fear that a thing -of that size, that hue, that contour would kill every -object in the Long Gallery. Great argument ensued. -And then to June’s relief, Miss Babraham, her father, -Sir Arthur and S. Gedge Antiques, arguing still, moved -away from the Hoodoo.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></p> - -<p>The upshot was that Sir Arthur, overborne at last -by the force of his daughter’s reasoning, agreed to buy -the monster, for what in the opinion of the seller, was -a ridiculously inadequate sum. It was to be carefully -packed in a crate, and sent down to Homefield near -Byfleet, Surrey. So much for the Hoodoo. And then -the eye of a famous connoisseur lit on the picture that -the old dealer had laid on the gate-legged table.</p> - -<p>“What have we here?” said Sir Arthur, fixing his -eyeglass.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si became a sphinx. The connoisseur took -the picture in his hand, and while he examined it with -grave curiosity he too became a sphinx. So tense grew -the silence to June’s ear that again she was troubled -by the loud beating of her heart.</p> - -<p>At last the silence was broken by the light and -charming note of Miss Babraham. “Why, surely,” -she said, “that is the funny old picture I saw when I -was here the other day.”</p> - -<p>“We have cleaned it up a bit since then, madam,” -said Uncle Si in a voice so toneless that June could -only marvel at the perfect self-command of this arch -dissembler.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur, it was clear, was tremendously interested. -He turned the picture over and over, and used the -microscope very much as M. Duponnet had done. -Finally he said in a voice nearly as toneless as that -of Uncle Si himself. “What do you ask for this, Mr. -Gedge?”</p> - -<p>“Not for sale, sir,” was the decisive answer.</p> - -<p>The nod of Sir Arthur implied that it was the -answer he expected. “Looks to me a fine example.” -A true amateur, he could not repress a little sigh of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span> -pleasure. There was no concealing the fact that he -was intrigued.</p> - -<p>“Van Roon at his best, sir,” said S. Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>“Ye-es,” said the connoisseur—in the tone of the -connoisseur. “One would be rather inclined to say so. -If the question is not impertinent,”—Sir Arthur fixed -a steady eye upon the face of deep cunning which confronted -his—“may I ask where it came from?”</p> - -<p>The old man was prepared for the question. His -answer was pat. “I can’t tell you that, sir,” he said, -in a tone of mystery.</p> - -<p>Again Sir Arthur nodded. That, too, was the answer -he had expected. In the pause which followed Sir -Arthur returned to a loving re-examination of the picture; -and then said S. Gedge Antiques in a voice -gravely and quietly confidential: “Strictly between ourselves, -sir, I may say that I have just turned down an -offer of five thousand guineas.”</p> - -<p>“Oh—indeed!”</p> - -<p>It was now the turn of the Old Crocodile to gaze -into the impassive countenance of the famous connoisseur.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXVIII">XXVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">“F</span>ive</span> thousand guineas, sir, I have just refused,” -said Uncle Si, “for this little thing, as sure as -God’s in the sky.”</p> - -<p>So shocked was June by this adding of blasphemy to -his other crimes, that she shivered audibly. Miss -Babraham cocked up her head at the sound. “You’ve -a cat somewhere, haven’t you?” she said, looking -around the shop.</p> - -<p>“No, madam,” said Uncle Si shortly. So like a -woman to butt in at such a moment with such a remark!</p> - -<p>“In my humble opinion,” said Sir Arthur, gazing -solemnly at the picture, “this is a finer example of Van -Roon than the one—and the only one!—we have in -the National Gallery.”</p> - -<p>“There, sir, I am with you,” said S. Gedge Antiques -with unction.</p> - -<p>“One would like to know its history.”</p> - -<p>The old man became a sphinx once more. “I can -only tell you, sir, I didn’t buy it as a Van Roon,” he -said cautiously.</p> - -<p>“Really!” Sir Arthur grew more intrigued than ever. -“Well, Mr. Gedge, whatever you bought it as, I think -there can be no doubt that you’ve made a lucky purchase.”</p> - -<p>“I am wondering, sir,” said S. Gedge Antiques, -“whether the National Gallery would care to acquire<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span> -this fine example?” It was a sudden inspiration, but -those measured tones and calculating eyes gave no indication -of the fact.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur Babraham, in his own capacity of a -National Gallery trustee, began sensibly to moderate -his transports. “More unlikely things, Mr. Gedge,” -at last he brought himself reluctantly to say. “Van -Roons are very scarce, and if this one is all that he -appears to be at a first glance, it will be a pity to let -him leave the country.”</p> - -<p>Piously, S. Gedge Antiques thought so, too.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur turned to the picture again. Like M. -Duponnet he seemed to have difficulty in keeping his -expert gaze off that fascinating canvas.</p> - -<p>“Reminds one,” he said, “of that choice thing that -was stolen from the Louvre about twenty-five years -ago. The size is similar and, as I remember it, the -whole composition is in some ways identical.”</p> - -<p>The old man was startled, but not visibly. “Was -there one stolen from the Loov, sir?” he said, with a -polite air of asking for information.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes! Don’t you remember? There was a -great stir at the time. It was cut out of its frame. -The French Government offered a big reward, but the -work has never been recovered.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, sir.” All at once the Old Crocodile began -to gambol a little. “Let’s hope this ain’t the boy.” -He gave a mild snigger. But as his next words proved -there was more in that snigger than met the ear. “In -the event of this little jool turning out to be stolen property, -what, sir, do you suppose would be the position of -the present owner?”</p> - -<p>“Difficult to say, Mr. Gedge.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span></p> - -<p>“He’d receive compensation, wouldn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Substantial compensation one would think—if he -was able to prove his title.”</p> - -<p>If he was able to prove his title! Those blunt little -words had a sinister sound for S. Gedge Antiques, but -he did not turn a hair. “No difficulty about that, sir,” -he said, robustly.</p> - -<p>“Quite!” Evidently Sir Arthur had no doubt upon -the point. “But as the question might arise it may be -well to have it settled before disposing of the picture.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge agreed.</p> - -<p>“And in any case, before parting with it,” said Sir -Arthur, “it will be wise, I think, to take advice.”</p> - -<p>Again S. Gedge agreed. “You mean, sir, it may be -very valuable indeed?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I quite think it may be. At a cursory glance -it has the look of a fine example of a great master. I -remember at the time that ‘L’Automne’ disappeared -from the Louvre, it was said to be worth at least two -hundred and fifty thousand francs, and since then Van -Roons have more than doubled in price.”</p> - -<p>“In that case, sir”—there was a tremor of real emotion -in the voice of the old dealer—“this be-yew-ti-ful -thing ought not to be allowed to leave the country.”</p> - -<p>“Unfortunately the French authorities may compel -it to do so.” And the connoisseur sighed as he fingered -the canvas lovingly.</p> - -<p>Affirmed S. Gedge Antiques: “I don’t believe, sir, -for a moment that it is ‘L’Automne.’”</p> - -<p>“One wouldn’t like to say it is,” said the cautious -Sir Arthur. “And one wouldn’t like to say it isn’t.”</p> - -<p>“It’ll be up to the Loov to prove it, anyhow.”</p> - -<p>“Quite. In the meantime, before you let it go, I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span> -hope you’ll give me an opportunity of looking at it -again.”</p> - -<p>This modest request caused the old man to rub his -nose. He was not in a position, he said mysteriously, to -give a promise, but certainly he would do his best to -meet the wishes of Sir Arthur.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Mr. Gedge. If this picture is not -claimed by other people, and of course one doesn’t for -a moment suggest that it will be, steps might be taken -to keep it here. We are so poor in Van Roons—there -is only one, I believe—to our shame!—in this country -at the present time—that we can’t afford to let a thing -like this slip through our fingers. Therefore, as I -say, before you decide to sell I hope you’ll take advice.”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques gravely thanked Sir Arthur Babraham. -He would keep those wise words in mind. -And in the meantime he would pack <i>That</i> in a crate—he -pointed a finger straight at June’s eyes—and send -it to Homefield.——</p> - -<p>“——near Byfleet, Surrey, I think you said, sir?”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXIX">XXIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> distinguished visitors were bowed into the -street. And then S. Gedge Antiques, with the -face of a man whose soul is in torment, returned to -contemplation of the picture, and also of M. Duponnet’s -cheque which he took out of his pocket book. It was -clear that his mind was the prey of a deep problem. -The bird in the hand was well enough so far as it went, -but the bird in the bush was horribly tempting.</p> - -<p>At last with a heavy sigh the old man returned the -cheque to his pocket, and then cautiously lifting up the -loose board, put back the picture whence it came and -drew the oak chest over the spot. He then shambled -off to the room next door, which was full of odds and -ends mingled with a powerful smell of oil and varnish.</p> - -<p>June at once made an attempt to get out of prison. -But she now found her position to be as she had already -surmised. To enter without help had been no mean -feat, to escape in the same fashion was impossible. -Wedged so tightly inside the Hoodoo, there was neither -play nor purchase for her hands; and frantic as her -efforts were, they were yet subordinated to the knowledge -that it would be quite easy for the thing to topple -over. Should that happen the consequence would certainly -be alarming and possibly ghastly.</p> - -<p>Frantically wriggling in the jaws of the Hoodoo, it -did not matter what she did, she was firmly held. And -the fear of Uncle Si, who was pottering about quite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span> -close at hand, while imposing silence upon her, intensified -the growing desperation of her case. She was a -mouse in a trap.</p> - -<p>Too soon did she learn that only one course was -open to her. She must wait for William’s return. Irksome -and humiliating as the position was, it was clear -that she could do nothing without help.</p> - -<p>Would William never come? The minutes ticked on -and her durance grew exceedingly vile. She became -conscious of pains in her shoulders and feet, she felt -as if she could hardly draw breath, her head throbbing -with excitement seemed as if it must burst. It was a -horrible fix to be in.</p> - -<p>Suffering acutely now, she yielded as well as she -could to the inevitable. There was simply nothing to -be done. She must wait. It was imprisonment in a -most unpleasant form and she was frightened by the -knowledge that it might continue many hours. Even -when William did return, and there was no saying -when he would do so, he was quite as likely to enter -by the back door as by the shop. So terrible was the -thought that June felt ready to faint at the bare idea.</p> - -<p>This was a matter, however, in which fate was not -so relentless after all. June was doing her best to bear -up in the face of this new and paralysing fear when -the shop door opened and lo! William came in.</p> - -<p>Great was her joy, and yet it had to be tempered by -considerations of prudence. She contrived to raise -her lips to the mouth of the Hoodoo, and to breathe -his name in a tragic whisper.</p> - -<p>As he heard her and turned, she urged in the same -odd fashion: “For Heaven’s sake—not a sound!”</p> - -<p>“Why—Miss June!” he gasped. “Where are you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> - -<p>She checked him with wild whisperings that yet -served to draw him to her prison.</p> - -<p>He was dumbfounded, quite as much as by her -fiercely tragic voice as by the amazing predicament in -which he found her.</p> - -<p>“Help me out!” she commanded him. “And don’t -make the least sound. Uncle Si is next door, and if -he finds me here, something terrible will happen.”</p> - -<p>Such force and such anxiety had one at least of the -results so much to be desired. They forbade the asking -of futile questions. Every moment was precious if she -was to make good her escape.</p> - -<p>William in this crisis proved himself a right good -fellow. His sense of the ludicrous was keen, but he -stifled it. Moreover, a legitimate curiosity had been -fully aroused, but he stifled that also as he proceeded -to carry out these imperious orders. But even with -such ready and stalwart help, June was to learn again -that it was no easy matter to escape from the Hoodoo.</p> - -<p>Without venturing to speak again, William mounted -the gate-legged table and offered both hands to the -prisoner. But the trouble was that she was so tightly -pinned that she could not raise hers to receive them. -And it was soon fatally clear that so long as the Hoodoo -kept the perpendicular it would be impossible for -any external agent to secure a hold upon the body -wedged within its jaws.</p> - -<p>After several attempts at dislodgement had miserably -failed, June gasped in a kind of anguish: “Do -you think you can tip this thing over—very gently—without -making a sound?”</p> - -<p>This was trying William highly indeed, but it seemed -the only thing to be done. Happily he was tall and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span> -strong; much was said, all the same, for his power of -muscle and the infinite tact with which it was applied -that he was able to tilt the Hoodoo on to its end. -Keeping the vase firmly under control, he then managed -to regulate its descent to the shop floor so skilfully as -to avoid a crash.</p> - -<p>Such a feat was really a triumph of applied dynamics. -June, however, was not in a position to render it all -the homage it deserved, even if she was deeply grateful -for the address that William brought to bear upon his -task. Once the Hoodoo had been laid full length on -the shop floor she was able to wriggle her body and her -shoulders with what violence she pleased, without the -fear of disaster. A series of convulsive twists and -writhings and she was free!</p> - -<p>As soon as she knew that she was no longer pinned -by the jaws of the monster, the action of a strong mind -was needed to ward off a threat of hysteria. But she -controlled herself sufficiently to help William restore -the Hoodoo to the perpendicular; and then she said in -a whisper of extreme urgency which was barely able -to mask the sob of nerves overstrung: “Not one word -now. But go straight into the kitchen—just as if -you hadn’t seen me. And remember whatever happens”—the -whisper grew fiercer, the sob more imminent—“if -Uncle Si asks the question you <i>haven’t</i> seen -me. I’m supposed to be looking for a job. You -understand?”</p> - -<p>To say that William did understand would have been -to pay him a most fulsome compliment; yet the stout -fellow behaved as if the whole of this amazing matter -was as clear as daylight. Such was June’s fixity of will, -the sheer force of her personality, that he left the shop<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span> -at once like a man hypnotised. Excited questions -trembled upon his lips, but in the face of this imperiousness -he did not venture to give them play.</p> - -<p>He made one attempt—one half-hearted attempt.</p> - -<p>“But Miss June——!”</p> - -<p>The only answer of Miss June was to cram one hand -over his mouth, and with the other to propel him -towards the door which led to the back premises.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXX">XXX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>s</span> soon as William had passed out of the shop, -June stood a moment to gather nerve and energy -for the task before her. Feeling considerably tossed, -above all she was devoured by a horrible form of excitement -whose effect was like nothing so much as a -bad dream. But this was not a time for dreams. The -situation was full of peril; not a moment must be lost.</p> - -<p>The picture was her immediate concern. She set -herself at once to the business of moving the oak chest -aside. This presented no difficulty, for there was -nothing in it; but the loose board beneath it did. -Fingers unhelped could not prise it up; they must have -a chisel. She knew that such an implement was to be -found in one of the drawers of the desk, but she had -stealthily to open three or four before she came upon -the right one.</p> - -<p>While all this was going on, she could hear the voices -of William and Uncle Si in the room next door. It -seemed that no matter what her caution or her haste, -she would almost certainly be interrupted before she -was through with her task. But luck was with her. -She was able to lift the board, take forth the picture, -replace the chest and return the chisel to its drawer -without the voices coming any nearer.</p> - -<p>Picture in hand, she tiptoed out of the shop as far -as the stairs. Through the open door of the inner room<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span> -the back of Uncle Si was visible as she crept by. It -was taking a grave risk to attempt the stairs at such a -moment, but she was wrought up to a point when to go -back and wait was impossible. She must continue to -chance her luck.</p> - -<p>Up the stairs she crept, expecting at every second -one to hear a harsh voice recall her. To her unspeakable -relief, however, she was able to gain sanctuary in -her own room without hindrance. She bolted the door -against the enemy, although so far as she was aware, -he was still in the room below in total ignorance of -what had happened.</p> - -<p>Shivering as if in the throes of fever, she sat on the -edge of her narrow bed. The treasure was hers still. -She held it to her bosom as a mother holds a child; yet -the simple act gave rise at once to the problem of problems: -What must be done with the thing now? There -could be no security for it under that roof. And not -to the picture alone did this apply, but also to herself. -Anything might happen as soon as the old man found -out that the Van Roon was not, after all, to be his. -Meanwhile, the future hardly bore thinking about; it -was like a precipice beyond whose edge she dare not -look.</p> - -<p>One act, however, did not admit of a moment’s -delay: there and then the treasure must be smuggled -out of the house and put in a place of safety. Rowelled -by this thought, June rose from the bed, took a piece -of brown paper and some string from her box, and -proceeded to transform the picture into a neat parcel. -She then slipped off her dress, which was considerably -the worse for contact with the dusty interior of the -Hoodoo, performed a hasty toilette, put on her walking-out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span> -coat and skirt and changed her shoes. Finally, -she put on the better of the only two hats she possessed, -slipped her mother’s battered old leather purse into her -coat pocket, and then, umbrella in one hand, parcel in -the other, she turned to the hazard of stealing downstairs -and making good her escape.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the twisty stairs, just before their -sharpest bend would bring her into the view of persons -below, she stopped to listen. The voices had ceased; -she could not hear a sound. Two ways lay before her -of reaching the street: one via the parlour to the -kitchen and out along the side entry, the other through -the front door of the shop. Either route might be -commanded at the moment by the enemy. With nothing -to guide her, June felt that the only safe course -just then was to stay where she was. In the strategic -position she had taken up on the stairs she could not be -seen from below, yet a quick ear might hope to gain a -clue to what was going on.</p> - -<p>She had not to wait long. From the inner room, -whose door opposite the foot of the stairs was still half -open, although its occupant was no more seen, there -suddenly came the strident tones of Uncle Si. They -were directed unmistakably kitchenward. “Boy, you’d -better get the tea ready. Seemin’ly that gell ain’t -home.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir,” came a prompt and cheerful response -from the back premises.</p> - -<p>June decided at once that the signs were favourable. -Now was her chance; the way through the front shop -was evidently clear. Deftly as a cat she came down -the remaining stairs and stole past the half-open door -of what was known as “the lumber room,” where, however,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span> -old chairs were sometimes fitted with new legs -and old chests with new panels.</p> - -<p>Uncle Si was undoubtedly there. June could hear -him moving about as she passed the door; indeed she -was hardly clear of it when she received a most unwelcome -reminder of this fact. Either he chanced to -turn round as she crept by, or he caught a glimpse of -her passing in one of the numerous mirrors that surrounded -him. For just as she reached the shop -threshold she heard his irascible bark: “That you, -niece?”</p> - -<p>The road clear ahead, June did not pause to weigh -consequences. She simply bolted. Even if the old man -was not likely to guess what her neat parcel contained, -it would surely be the height of folly to give him the -chance.</p> - -<p>Never in her life had she been quite so thankful as -when she found herself in the street with the treasure -safely under her arm.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXI">XXXI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> went swiftly down New Cross Street to the -Strand. Until she reached that garish sea of -traffic she dare not look back lest hot on her heels -should be Uncle Si. Such a discovery was not at all -likely she well knew; the feeling was therefore illogical, -yet she could not rid herself of it until she was merged -in the ever-flowing tide.</p> - -<p>Taking refuge at last in a jeweller’s doorway from -the maelstrom of passers by, June had now another -problem to face. The Van Roon must find a home. -But the question of questions was—where?</p> - -<p>Apart from William and Uncle Si, and her chance -acquaintance, Mr. Keller, she did not know a soul in -London. Mr. Keller, however, sprang at once to her -mind. Yet more than one reservation promptly arose -in regard to him. She knew really nothing about him -beyond the fact that he was a man of obviously good -address, belonging to a class superior to her own. He -was a man of the world, of a certain breeding and education, -but whether it would be wise to trust a comparative -stranger in such a matter seemed exceedingly -doubtful to a girl of June’s horse sense. Still there -was no one else to whom she could turn. And recalling -the circumstances of their first meeting, if one could -ignore the means by which it had come about, there was -something oddly compelling, something oddly attractive, -about this Mr. Keller.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> - -<p>In the total absence of other alternatives, June found -her mind drawn so far in the direction of this man -of mystery that at last she took from her purse a slip -of paper on which he had written his name and address: -“Adolph Keller, No. 4, Haliburton Studios, Manning -Square, Soho.”</p> - -<p>Could she trust him with the care of a Van Roon? -Now that she had been a witness of its terrible effect -on Uncle Si, she was forced to ask whether it would -be right to trust any man with such a talisman. Luckily, -the world was not peopled exclusively with Uncle Sis. -She would have to trust somebody with her treasure, -that was certain; and, after all, there was no reason to -suspect that Mr. Keller was not an honest man.</p> - -<p>She was still in the jeweller’s doorway, wrestling -with the pros and cons of the tough matter, when a -passing bus displaying the name Victoria Station -caught her eye. In a flash came the solution of the -problem.</p> - -<p>Again she entered the sea of traffic, to be borne slowly -along by the slow tide as far as Charing Cross. Here -she waited for another bus to Victoria. The solving of -the riddle was absurdly simple after all. What place -for her treasure could be safer, more accessible than a -railway station cloak room?</p> - -<p>She boarded Bus 23. But hardly had it turned the -corner into Whitehall when a thin flicker of elation was -dashed by the salutary thought that her brain was giving -out. The cloak room at Charing Cross, from the -precincts of whose station she had just driven away, -was equally adapted to her need. Along the entire -length of Whitehall and Victoria Street she was -haunted by the idea that she was losing her wits. A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span> -prolonged scrutiny of her pale but now collected self -in a confectioner’s window on the threshold of the -London and Brighton terminus was called for to reassure -her. And even then, for a girl so shrewd and -so practical, there remained the scar of a distressing -mental lapse.</p> - -<p>It did not take long to deposit the parcel in the cloak -room on the main line down platform. But in the act -of doing so, occurred a slight incident which was destined -to have a bearing on certain events to follow. -When a ticket was handed to her, she could only meet -the charge of three pence with a ten shilling note.</p> - -<p>“Nothing smaller, Miss?” asked the clerk.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I haven’t,” said June, searching her -purse, and then carefully placing the ticket in its middle -compartment.</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to wait while I get change then.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry to trouble you,” June murmured, as the -clerk went out through a door into an inner office. Ever -observant and alert, she noticed that the clerk was a -tallish young man, whose freely curling fair hair put -her in mind of William, and that he wore a new suit of -green corduroy.</p> - -<p>The likeness to William gave <i>bouquet</i> to her politeness, -when the young man returned with the change. -“Sorry to give you so much trouble,” she said again.</p> - -<p>“No trouble, miss.” And Green Corduroy handed -the change across the cloak room counter with a frank -smile that was not unworthy of William himself.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXII">XXXII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> treasure in a safe place, June had to consider -what to do next. One fact stood out clear in -her mind. She must leave at once the sheltering roof -of S. Gedge Antiques. There was no saying what -would happen when the Old Crocodile discovered that -the Van Roon was missing.</p> - -<p>The sooner she collected her box and her gear, and -found another lodging the better. Her best plan would -be to go back to New Cross Street and get them now. -Uncle Si was hardly likely as yet to have made the -discovery. It would be wise, therefore, to take advantage -of this lull, for at the most it was only a matter -of a few hours before the truth was known. And when -known it was, Number Forty-six New Cross Street -was the very last place in London in which she would -choose to be.</p> - -<p>There was a chance, of course, that “the murder” -was out already. But she would have to take the risk -of that. All that she had in the world beyond the six -paper pounds, nine shillings and ninepence in her purse, -was in the box in the garret. Her entire resources were -about seventeen pounds in money, a scanty wardrobe, -and a few odds and ends of jewellery of little value, but -if she could get hold of these they might suffice to tide -her over a sorely anxious time.</p> - -<p>In the present state of her nerves, courage was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span> -needed to return to New Cross Street. But it had to -be. And it was now or never. If her box was to be -got away, she must go boldly back at once and claim -it. How this was to be done without arousing suspicion -she did not quite know, but the most hopeful method -was to announce that she had been able to find a job, -and also good lodgings, and that she did not care to -lay the burden of her presence upon Uncle Si one -hour longer than was necessary.</p> - -<p>She had been brought up with a strict regard for the -truth, but fate was driving her so hard that she could -not afford to have scruples. Hanging by a strap on the -Underground to Charing Cross, which seemed the -quickest route, and time was the essence of the matter, -she rehearsed the part she had now to play. Certainly -the playing itself would not lack gusto. Nothing life -so far had given her would yield quite so much pleasure -as saying good-bye to the Old Crocodile, and ironically -thanking him for all his kindness. At the same time, -the job and lodgings story must be pitched in just the -right key, or his suspicions would be aroused, and then -something horribly unpleasant might occur.</p> - -<p>By the time June had turned out of the Strand into -New Cross Street, a heavy autumnal dusk had fallen -upon that bleak thoroughfare. Somehow the dark pall -struck at her heart. In a sense it was symbolical of the -business upon which she was engaged. She felt like a -thief whose instinct welcomes darkness, and whose conscience -fears it.</p> - -<p>Never in her life had she needed such courage as to -turn up that gloomy and dismal street and accost the -forbidding threshold of S. Gedge Antiques. The shop -was still open, for it was hardly more than six o’clock,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span> -and two gas jets lit the interior in a way that added to -its dolour.</p> - -<p>She stood a moment with the knob of the shop door -in her hand. All the nerve she could muster was wanted -to venture within. But she did go in, and she felt a -keen relief when a hasty glance told her that Uncle -Si was not there.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIII">XXXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> had a further moment of indecision while she -thought out what her line must be. She resolved to -go direct to her room and pack her box. Afterwards -she must find William and enlist his help in bringing -it downstairs, and then she would get a taxi and drive -off with her things before Uncle Si discovered his -loss. Otherwise...!</p> - -<p>Her mind had not time to shape the grisly alternative, -before the immediate course of events shaped it for -her. Suddenly she was aware of a presence lurking in -the dark shadows of the shop interior. It was couchant, -vengeful, hostile. Almost before June could guess -what was happening it had sprung upon her.</p> - -<p>With astounding force her right wrist was grasped -and twisted behind her back. She gave a little yelp of -pain. A second yelp followed, as she struggled to free -herself, only to find that she was locked in a vice, and -that to fight against it would be agony.</p> - -<p>“Now, where is it?” The low voice hissing in her -ear was surely that of a maniac. “Where’s the picture?” -The grip upon her had the strength of ten. -“Where is it—eh?” As the question was put, her captor -shook her fiercely. “Tell me.” He shook her again. -“Oh, you won’t—won’t you?” And then she realized -that there was something in his hand.</p> - -<p>She called wildly for William, but there was no -response.</p> - -<p>“No use lifting up your voice. The boy’s out.”</p> - -<p>She fought to get free, but with a wrist still locked,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span> -she was at his mercy. “Now then, where’s that picture? -Won’t tell me—eh?” There was madness in -that depth of rage.</p> - -<p>Quite suddenly there came a sickening crash upon -her shoulders. She let out with her heels and found -the shin of the enemy, she fought and screamed, yet -pinned like that, she felt her wrist must break and her -arm be wrenched from its socket.</p> - -<p>“Where is it—you thief?” The stick crashed again, -this time in a series of horrible blows. So severe was -the pain that it seemed to drive through her whole -being. She began to fear that he meant to kill her; and -as the stick continued to descend she felt sure that he -would.</p> - -<p>She was a strong, determined girl, but her captor -had her at a hopeless disadvantage. His strength, besides, -was that of one possessed. Her cries and struggles -merely added to his savagery.</p> - -<p>“Tell me where it is or I’ll knock the life out of you.”</p> - -<p>Utterly desperate, she contrived at last to break -away; and though with the force of a maniac he tried -to prevent her escape, somehow she managed to get -into the street. He followed her as far as the shop door, -brandishing the stick, hurling imprecations upon -her, and threatening what he would do if she didn’t -bring the picture back at once.</p> - -<p>Bruised and gasping, June reeled into the darkness. -Feeling more dead than alive, she lingered nearby after -the old man had gone in, trying to pull her battered self -together. She badly wanted her box, yet the only hope -of getting it now was by means of the police. As -things were, however, it would not be wise to ask their -help. The old wretch was so clever he might be able<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span> -to make her out a thief; besides, for the time being she -had had more than enough of this horrible affair.</p> - -<p>Cruelly hurt she moved at last with slow pain -towards the Strand. By now she had decided that -her most imperative need was a night’s lodging. Before -starting to look for one, however, the enticing doors of -a teashop gave her a renewed sense of weakness. -Gratefully she went in and sat down, ordering a pot -of tea and a little bread and butter which she felt too -ill to eat.</p> - -<p>Nearly half an hour she sat in the company of her -thoughts. Hard, unhappy thoughts they were. Without -one friend to whom in this crisis she could turn, -the world which confronted her now was an abyss. -The feeling of loneliness was desolating, yet, after -all, far less so than it would have been were she not -fortified by the memory of a certain slip of paper in -her purse.</p> - -<p>A slow return of fighting power revived a spark of -natural resolution within her. After all, a potent -weapon was in her hands. She must think out a careful -plan of turning it to full account. And at the -worst she was now beyond the reach of Uncle Si. -Even if he kept her box and all its contents, weighed -in the scale of the picture’s fabulous worth, her modest -possessions amounted to very little.</p> - -<p>Stimulated by this conclusion, she began to forget -her aches. When a waitress came June asked for her -bill. It was sixpence. She put her hand in the pocket -of her coat. Her purse was not there.</p> - -<p>With a little thrill of fear, she felt in the pocket on -the other side. The purse was not there either. She -was stunned. This was a blow far worse than those<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span> -she had just received. She grew so dazed that as -she got up she swayed against the table, and had to -hold on by it to save herself from falling.</p> - -<p>The waitress who had written out the bill caught a -glimpse of scared eyes set in a face of chalk.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you well?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“I—I’ve lost my purse,” June stammered. “It’s -fallen out of my pocket, I think.” As with frantic -futility she plunged her hand in again, she was raked -by the true meaning of such a fact in all its horror. -Unless her purse had been stolen on the Underground, -and it was not very likely, it had almost certainly fallen -out of her pocket in the course of the struggle with -Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>It was lying now on the shop floor unless the old -wretch had found it already. And if he had he would -lose no time in examining its contents. He had only -to do so for the cloak-room ticket to tell him where -the Van Roon was deposited, and to provide him with -a sure means of obtaining it.</p> - -<p>“You may have had your pocket picked.”</p> - -<p>June did not think so. Yet, being unable to take -the girl into her confidence, she did not choose to disclose -her doubts.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps I have,” she gasped. And then face to -face with the extreme peril of the case, her overdriven -nerves broke out in mutiny. She burst into tears. “I -don’t know what I’ll do,” she sobbed.</p> - -<p>The waitress was full of sympathy. “Your bill is -only sixpence. Come in and pay to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>Through her tears June thanked her.</p> - -<p>“’Tisn’t my bill, although it’s very kind of you. -There was something very important in my purse.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></p> - -<p>“Where did you have it last?”</p> - -<p>“In the booking hall, when I took a ticket from -Victoria to Charing Cross.”</p> - -<p>“Your pocket’s been picked,” said the waitress with -conviction. “There’s a warning in all the Tubes.”</p> - -<p>The comfort was cold, yet comfort it was of a kind. -June saw a wan ray of hope. After all, there was a -bare possibility that inexorable Fate was not the thief.</p> - -<p>“I’d go to Scotland Yard if I were you,” said the -waitress. “The police often get back stolen property. -Last year my sister’s house was burgled, and they -recovered nearly everything for her.”</p> - -<p>June began to pull herself together. It was not -hope, however, that braced her faculties, but an effort -of will. Hope there was none of recovering the purse, -but she was now faced by the stern necessity of getting -back the picture. In the light of this tragedy it was -in most serious peril. Delay might be fatal, if indeed -it had not already proved to be so. She must go at -once and get possession of the treasure lest it be too -late.</p> - -<p>The waitress was a good Samaritan. Not only could -the bill wait until the next day, but she went even -further: “Is your home far from here?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“My home—far?” said June, dazedly. For the -moment she did not understand all that was implied -by the question.</p> - -<p>“If you live on the District, and you haven’t a season, -I don’t mind lending you a shilling to get you -home.”</p> - -<p>June accepted a shilling with earnest thanks. In -the circumstances, it might be worth untold gold: -“You can give it me back any time you are passing,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span> -said the waitress, as June thanked her again and made -her way unsteadily out into the street.</p> - -<p>The chill air of the Strand revived her a little. She -had decided already that she must go at once to Victoria. -Every minute would count, and it now occurred -to her that if she took the Underground, several might -be saved.</p> - -<p>To the Underground in Trafalgar Square she went. -It was the hour of the evening rush. Queues were -lining up at all the booking office windows. And at -the first window she came to, some three persons or so -ahead of her, was a figure oddly familiar, which, however, -in her present state of disintegration she did not -recognize at once. It was clad in a sombre tail coat -of prehistoric design, jemima boots, frayed shepherd’s -plaid trousers braced high and a hard square felt hat -which gave a crowning touch of oppressive respectability. -Moreover, its progress was assisted by a heavy -knotted walking stick, at the sight of which June gave -an involuntary shiver.</p> - -<p>An instant later the shiver had developed into a -long and paralyzing shudder. Uncle Si was just ahead -of her; in fact she was near enough to hear a harsh -voice demand almost with menace a ticket to Victoria.</p> - -<p>June’s worst fears were realized. The purse had -fallen from her pocket to the shop floor in the struggle; -the old wretch had found it, deciphered the precious -ticket, put two and two together, and was now on his -way to claim the parcel. All this was crystal clear to -her swift mind. She felt a strong desire to faint, but -she fought her weakness. She must go on. Everything -was as good as lost—but she must go on.</p> - -<p>She took her ticket. And then in the long subway<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span> -to the platform she raced on ahead of Uncle Si. He -was so near-sighted that even had he been less absorbed -in his own affairs he would not have been likely to -notice her.</p> - -<p>June reached the platform well in front of the old -man. But the train to Victoria was not in. It arrived -two minutes later; by then, Uncle Si had appeared, -and they boarded it together. She was careful, however, -not to enter the same compartment as the enemy.</p> - -<p>Short as the journey was, June had ample time to -appreciate that the odds were heavily against her. The -mere fact that the cloak-room receipt for the parcel -was in the custody of Uncle Si would confer possession -upon him; it had only to be presented for the Van -Roon to be handed over without a question.</p> - -<p>The one chance she had now was to get on well -ahead of the old beast, and convince the clerk that in -spite of the absence of the ticket the parcel was hers. -She knew, however, only too well that the hope of -being able to do this was frail indeed—at all events -before the holder of the ticket arrived on the scene to -claim it.</p> - -<p>At Victoria, June dashed out of the train even before -it stopped. Running past the ticket collector at the -barrier and along the subway she reached the escalator -yards in front of Uncle Si, and, in spite of being unused -to this trap for the unwary, for Blackhampton’s more -primitive civilization knew escalators not, she ascended -to the street at a pace far beyond the powers of the -Old Crocodile. By this means, indeed, she counted on -gaining an advantage of several minutes, since it was -hardly likely that Uncle Si would trust himself to such -a contrivance, and in ignorance of the fact that she was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span> -just ahead, would choose the dignified safety of the -lift.</p> - -<p>So far as it went the thought was reassuring. Alas, -it did not go far. As June ran through the long station -to the cloak-room at its farthest end, she had but a very -slender hope of being able to recover the parcel. She -had no intention, however, of submitting tamely to fate. -In this predicament, whatever the cost, she must make -one last and final effort to get back her treasure.</p> - -<p>At the cloak-room counter she took her courage in -both hands. A man sour and elderly had replaced the -wearer of the green corduroy, who was nowhere to be -seen. This was a piece of bad luck, for she had hoped -that the nice-looking young man might remember her. -Happily, no other passengers besieged the counter at -the moment, so that without loss of time June was able -to describe the parcel and to announce the fact that -the ticket she had received for it was missing.</p> - -<p>Exactly as she had foreseen the clerk raised an objection. -Without a ticket she couldn’t have the parcel. -“But I simply must have it,” said June. And spurred -by the knowledge that there was not one moment to -lose in arguing the case, she boldly lifted the flap of -the counter and entered the cloak-room itself.</p> - -<p>“No use coming in here,” said the Clerk, crustily. -“You can’t take nothing away without a ticket.”</p> - -<p>“But my purse has been stolen, I tell you,” said June.</p> - -<p>“Then I should advise you to go and see the station-master.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t wait to do that.” And with the defiance -of despair, expecting each moment to hear the voice -of Uncle Si at her back, June ignored the Clerk, and -proceeded to gaze up and down the numerous and -heavily burdened luggage racks for her property.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIV">XXXIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">“N</span>ot</span> a bit o’ use, don’t I tell you.” The Clerk -was growing angry.</p> - -<p>June pretended not to hear. Her heart beating fast -she went on with her search for the parcel; yet in the -midst of it she grew aware that somebody was approaching -the counter. She dare not pause to look who -it was, for she knew only too well that it was almost -bound to be Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>The Clerk uttered another snarl of protest as he -turned away to attend to the new comer. As he did -so, June breathed a prayer that her eye might fall on -the parcel in that instant, for her only hope now was -to seize it and fly. That, however, was not to be. She -had omitted to notice the place in which it had been -put, and do as she would she could not find it now.</p> - -<p>At this crucial moment, there emerged from the -inner office her friend of the green corduroy. She -simply leapt at what was now her one remaining chance.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come,” cried June, in a -voice that was a little frantic: “You remember my -bringing a brown paper parcel here, don’t you—about -two hours ago?”</p> - -<p>The tone, tinged as it was with hysteria, caused -Green Corduroy to look at June with mild astonishment. -“I’ve lost the ticket you gave me for it, but I’m -sure you remember my bringing it.” Her brain seemed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span> -on fire. “Don’t you remember my giving you a ten -shilling note? And you had to go and get the change.”</p> - -<p>Green Corduroy was a slow-brained youth, but a -knitting of the brow seemed to induce a hazy recollection -of the incident. But while the process was going -on, June gave a glance over her shoulder, and behold -there was Uncle Si the other side of the counter. A -second glance told her, moreover, that Crusty Sides -already had the fatal ticket in his hand.</p> - -<p>What must she do? It was not a moment for half -measures. While she was stirring the memory of -Green Corduroy, the treasure would be gone. She did -not hesitate. Observing Crusty Sides wheel, paper in -hand, with the slow austerity of one of the Company’s -oldest and most respected servants towards a luggage -rack near by, June seized the clue. Of a sudden her -eyes lit on the parcel at the top of the pile. Already -the responsible fingers of Crusty Sides were straying -upwards, yet before they could enclose the Van Roon, -June made a dash for it, and managed to whisk it away -from under his nose.</p> - -<p>Her brain was like quicksilver now. She had a mad -impulse to rush off with the treasure without further -explanation; all the same she was able to resist it, for -she realized that such a course would be too full of -peril.</p> - -<p>“Yes—this is it,” she said in an urgent whisper to -Green Corduroy. And as she spoke, with a presence of -mind, which in the circumstances was a little uncanny, -she slipped behind a large pile of boxes out of view of -Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>“Surely you remember my bringing it?”</p> - -<p>Green Corduroy seemed to think that he did remember.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span> -At this point Crusty Sides, with an air of outrage, -sternly interposed. “But a pawty claims it. And here’s -his ticket.”</p> - -<p>“The ticket’s mine,” said June, in a fierce whisper. -“It’s been taken from my purse.”</p> - -<p>“Nothin’ to do with us, that ain’t,” said Crusty Sides.</p> - -<p>“But you <i>do</i> remember my bringing it, don’t you?” -Beseechingly June turned to Green Corduroy. And he, -that nice-looking young man, with a frown of ever-deepening -perplexity, slowly affirmed that he thought -he did remember.</p> - -<p>“The ticket’s what we’ve got to go by,” said Crusty -Sides, sternly. “Nothin’ else matters to us.”</p> - -<p>“If you’ll look at it,” said June to Green Corduroy, -“you’ll see that it’s made out in your writing.”</p> - -<p>Green Corduroy looked and saw that it was. As -far as he was concerned, that seemed to clinch the -argument. And even Crusty Sides, a born bureaucrat, -was rather impressed by it. “You say this here ticket’s -been taken off on you?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said June in an excited whisper. “By my -wicked thief of an uncle.”</p> - -<p>Instantly she regretted the imprudence of her words.</p> - -<p>“Uncle a thief, eh?” proclaimed Crusty Sides, in -a voice of such carrying power that to June it seemed -that the Old Crocodile could hardly fail to hear him.</p> - -<p>“Anyhow, this gentleman knows that it was I who -brought the parcel,” she said, determinedly to Green -Corduroy.</p> - -<p>That young man looked her straight in the eye, and -then declared that he did know. Further, like many -minds “slow in the uptake,” when once in motion they -are prone to deep conclusions. “Seems to me, Nobby,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span> -he weightily affirmed, under the stimulus no doubt of -being addressed as a gentleman, in the Company’s time, -by such a good-looking girl, “that as this lady has got -the parcel, and we have got the ticket for it, she and -Uncle had better fight it out between ’em.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about that,” growled Nobby.</p> - -<p>Green Corduroy, however, stimulated by the fiery -anguish of June’s glance, and no doubt still in thrall -to the fact that she considered him a gentleman, was not -to be moved from the statesmanlike attitude he had -taken up. “You let ’em fight it out, Nobby. This lady -was the one as brought it here.”</p> - -<p>“I gave you a ten shilling note, didn’t I?” The voice -of June was as honeyed as the state of her feelings -would permit.</p> - -<p>“Yes, and I fetched the change for you, didn’t I?”</p> - -<p>Crusty Sides shook a head of confirmed misogyny. -“Very irregular, that’s all I’ve got to say about it.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe it is, Nobby. But it’s nothing to do with -you and me.”</p> - -<p>Green Corduroy, with almost the air of a knight -errant, took the all-important slip of paper from his -colleague. Flaunting it in gallant fingers, he moved -up slowly to the counter.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, buying spectacles on nose, -knotted cudgel in hand, was impatiently waiting. “The -parcel is claimed by the lady who brought it,” June -heard Green Corduroy announce.</p> - -<p>She waited for no more. Following close behind -Crusty Sides, who also moved up to the counter, she -slipped quietly through an adjacent door to the main -line platform before Uncle Si grew fully alive to the -situation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span></p> - -<p>Clasping the parcel to her bosom, she glided swiftly -down the platform, and out by the booking hall, travelling -as fast as her legs would take her, without breaking -into a run, which would have looked like guilt, and -might have attracted public notice. She did not dare to -glance back, for she was possessed by a fear that the -old man and his stick were at her heels.</p> - -<p>Once clear of the station itself, she yielded to the -need of putting as much distance between Uncle Si and -herself as a start so short would permit. There was -now hope of throwing him off the track. Thus, as -soon as she reached the Victoria Street corner, she -scrambled on to a bus that was in the act of moving -away.</p> - -<p>One seat only was vacant and, as in a state of imminent -collapse she sank down upon it, she ventured for -the first time to look behind her. She quite expected to -find Uncle Si at her elbow already, but with a gasp of -relief she learned that the old man was nowhere in -sight.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXV">XXXV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> did not know in which direction the bus was -going. And when the conductor came for her -fare, which he did as soon as the vehicle began to move, -she was quite at a loss for a destination. There was -nothing for it but to draw a bow at a venture. She -asked for Oxford Circus, the only nodal point of the -metropolis, besides Charing Cross, with which she was -familiar. By a rare piece of luck, Oxford Circus was -included in its route, and what remained of the shilling -the girl at the teashop had given her was sufficient to -get her there, and leave four pence in hand.</p> - -<p>Alighting at Oxford Circus, she stood under a lamp -to consider what she should do now. There was nowhere -she could go, there was not one friend to whom -she could turn. Battered and spent in body and spirit -by all that had happened to her during the last few -hours she was now in a flux of terror to which she -dare not yield.</p> - -<p>At first she thought of seeking advice of a policeman, -but it would have been extremely difficult just then to -tell her strange story. Its complications were many -and fantastic; besides, and she trembled at the idea, it -was by no means clear that she would be able to establish -her claim to the Van Roon in the eye of the law.</p> - -<p>Still, something would have to be done. She must -find a home of some kind not only for her treasure,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span> -but for herself. Feeling desperately in need of help, -she decided as a preliminary measure to spend three -of her four remaining pence on a cup of tea. She had -a vague hope that in that magic beverage inspiration -might lurk.</p> - -<p>The hope, as it chanced, was not vain. Near by was -an A.B.C. shop; and she had hardly sat down at one -of its marble-topped tables when, by an association of -ideas, her mysterious acquaintance, Mr. Adolph Keller, -sprang again into her mind. He had given her his -address. Alas, the slip of paper on which it was written -was in her purse, but she had a particularly good memory, -and by raking it fiercely she was able to recall the -fact that his place of domicile was Haliburton Studios, -Manning Square.</p> - -<p>She did not like trusting any man on an acquaintance -so slight, especially as it had come about in so odd a -fashion, but Mr. Keller had shown himself very -friendly, and there was no one else to whom she could -turn. Sipping her cup of tea, in slow and grateful -weariness, she began to develop this idea. Horse sense, -Mr. Boultby had always said, was her long suit; therefore -she well understood the peril of taking a comparative -stranger into her confidence. But very cogently -she put to herself the question: What else could she do?</p> - -<p>Of sundry policemen, who were very obliging, June -asked the way to Manning Square. It was in Soho, not -so very far from Oxford Circus, as she remembered -Mr. Keller saying, and, in spite of a local fog which -had come on in the last twenty minutes, the police were -so helpful that she had no great difficulty in getting -there. During the short journey her mind was much -engaged in settling just what she would and would not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span> -say to Mr. Keller. She decided that as far as might -be practicable she would leave the picture out of the -case. It might not be possible to exclude it, but at any -rate she would begin by offering to sit to him as a -model, in accordance with his suggestion; and with that -the pretext of her visit she would see if she could get -him to lend her a little money to tide over immediate -needs.</p> - -<p>By the time she had come to Manning Square it was -a few minutes past seven. Two complete circuits had -to be made of this dingy, ill-smelling gap in the heart -of Soho, before she came upon Haliburton Studios, -which were not in the Square itself, but in a dismal -by-street debouching from it. The tall block of buildings -which comprised the studios was equally dismal, -and as June entered a vestibule that shewed no light, -she felt a sudden chill strike at her heart.</p> - -<p>This, however, was not a moment to quail. It was a -case, if ever there was one, of any port in a storm. -The hazard of her errand fell upon her like a pall, but -the knowledge that she had only a penny left with which -to obtain a night’s lodging was a veritable barb in the -flesh.</p> - -<p>Try as she would she could not recall the number -of Mr. Keller’s studio; nor was the information to be -found upon the walls of the vestibule which she was -not able to see. But while she stood at the foot of a -winding flight of stone steps, striving to meet the difficulty -which faced her now, she heard someone coming -down. At the sound she went back to the door by -which she had entered, where a lamp contending feebly -against the fog, would enable her to see anyone who -passed out of the flats.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> - -<p>The person who did so proved to be one of June’s -own sex, a youngish woman whose fur coat seemed to -accentuate a note of tawdry and flamboyant finery. -Even in the semi-darkness June could see that her face -was rouged.</p> - -<p>She had no illusion as to the kind of person she -addressed:</p> - -<p>“You want Mr. Keller’s studio?” The woman -peered into June’s face in a manner which she felt to -be decidedly objectionable. “It’s the second door on -the first landing.” The tone, offhand, and more than a -little contemptuous, was like a blow in the face.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVI">XXXVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">I</span>t</span> was not until the woman had passed out of the -vestibule into the street that June could find courage -to mount the stone stairs.</p> - -<p>The knocker on the second door was so crazy that -it threatened to break off in her hand. Tact and skill -were called for to draw sound from it at all; bell there -was none; but a faint light percolated through the fanlight -and it was a glimpse of this which heartened June -to persevere. By dint of application she was able to -coax a few sounds out of the knocker, a feat which -at last brought reward. The beam beyond the fanlight -expanded; there was a shuffle of approaching slippers; -and then the door came open.</p> - -<p>Mr. Keller, wearing a dressing gown in lieu of a -coat, stood before her.</p> - -<p>“Hulloa!” he said.</p> - -<p>Before June could find words of her own she had -been recognized: “Why—it’s you!” The gentlemanly -voice sounded most agreeable. “Walk right in. You’re -welcome as the flowers in May.”</p> - -<p>Tossed by the tempest as Mr. Keller’s visitor still -was, she could not help contrasting such a welcome with -the air and manner of Uncle Si.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVII">XXXVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> geniality of Adolph Keller had a tonic effect -upon June’s depression. She crossed his threshold -with a sense of extreme relief, as one who finds a -refuge from the storm. He closed the door of the -flat, and then led the way into a spacious room with a -high ceiling which was fixed up as a studio.</p> - -<p>It was not without an air of comfort. The main part -had been screened off; within a small but seductive -inner space a bright fire mingled pleasant gleams with -the radiance of the electric lamp. Two low wicker -chairs were set invitingly near the hearth, and a table -piled with books and magazines was between them. -Amid these, however, space had been found for a -tobacco jar, a siphon, a glass and a bottle of whisky. -On the floor was a French novel, which he had laid -down open to let her in.</p> - -<p>Mr. Keller, evidently, was making himself comfortable -for the night. The contrast between this snug -and cheerful room and the rising fog, from which -June had just escaped, struck her at once as delightful. -With a little sigh of gratitude, she sank at the cordial -invitation of her host into the first of the easy chairs.</p> - -<p>He remembered her quite well, of course, yet for -the moment he had forgotten her name, and what to -June was the more surprising, the appointment she had -made with him for that very afternoon seemed to have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span> -passed right out of his mind. Yet she was quick to -see, for her wits were now working at high pressure, -that this strange forgetfulness was in her favour. At -any rate, it was going to help her in the task of keeping, -as far as possible, the Van Roon out of the case.</p> - -<p>“Lyons’, wasn’t it, we met at? One day last week? -Your name’s——?”</p> - -<p>“I’m Miss Gedge.” June’s tone was a shade “stand -off,” for that appeared to be correct in the circumstances.</p> - -<p>“Miss Gedge—yes—of course. Stupid of me to -forget.” He fixed the eye of a man with a sense of -humour upon this odd visitor. “I’ve a shocking memory -for names. Very glad to see you, anyhow, Miss -Gedge.” He took the low chair opposite with the -calm and easy air of a model host. “And very nice -of you to come on a damp and foggy night.”</p> - -<p>The tone, rather than the words, put it up to June -to explain her coming. She did so rather awkwardly, -with a touch of “nerves.” Yet before committing herself -to any positive statement as to why she was there, -she was careful to dispose the parcel she carried as far -beyond the range of his eyes as was possible at the side -of the wicker chair in which she sat.</p> - -<p>“You told me the other day”—She found it impossible -to control the queer little tremble in her voice—“that -you wanted an artist’s model, and that my hair -was just the colour you were looking for.”</p> - -<p>“By Jove, yes,” he laughed. “Your hair’s topping.” -The laugh deepened to enthusiasm. “It’s the colour I -want, to a hayseed.” An eye of veiled appraisement -passed slowly over her. “And what’s almost as important -there’s stooks of it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes, there is,” said June, doing her best to pick up -his light tone of intimacy. “It is important, I suppose, -for an artist’s model to have hair long and thick.”</p> - -<p>“Ra-ther!” As he looked at her sideways, out of -the corner of one eye, his tone seemed to change a -little; and then he got up alertly from his chair, the -mantle of the model host again upon him. “I’m afraid -there’s not much to offer you in the way of refreshment. -There’s only whisky. If you’ll excuse me a minute, -I’ll fetch another glass.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, please, not for me,” said June quickly. She -was very tired and horribly depressed, but she had been -strictly brought up.</p> - -<p>The host seemed a little amused by her vehemence. -He looked at her keenly with a pair of curious, small, -near-set eyes, which June liked even less now than when -she had noticed them first. “Well, have a cigarette, -anyhow. These are like mother’s milk.” And he -offered a box of Virginia.</p> - -<p>June also declined a cigarette, in the same odd, -rather fluttered tone which caused him to smile in a -way that added to her nervousness.</p> - -<p>“No? Well, make yourself comfy, anyhow. Draw -your chair up to the fire.”</p> - -<p>She thanked him in a voice which, in spite of itself -was a little prim, and which assured him that she was -quite warm enough where she was. The attempted -lightness and ease had gone; a subtle sense of fear, bred -of hidden danger yet without any root in fact or logic, -was rising in her. The position itself was embarrassing, -yet so far Mr. Keller had shown no wish to presume -upon it. Up till now he had been easy and -charming; but June, in spite of worldly inexperience,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span> -had the intuitions of her sex to guide her; and she felt -instinctively that there might be a great deal behind -these graces. She was grateful all the same; they were -much needed balm for many bruises.</p> - -<p>When Mr. Keller sat down again in the wicker chair, -about two yards away from her, a sense of languor -crept upon June. The warmth of the fire, the glow of -the lamp, the notes of a singularly quiet voice were like -a subtle drug. Alive to danger as she was, its caress -was hard to resist. Such a position was one of acute -peril, for she was literally throwing herself upon the -mercy of a person who was very much an unknown -quantity, yet what alternative was there?</p> - -<p>“Don’t mind a pipe, I hope?” The polite voice from -the chair opposite was not really ironical; it was merely -kind and friendly, yet feminine intuition shivering -upon the dark threshold of a mighty adventure knew -well enough how easily a tone of that kind could turn to -something else.</p> - -<p>“Oh no, I don’t mind at all.” She tried again to get -the right key, but a laugh she could not control, high-pitched -and irrelevant, was horribly betraying.</p> - -<p>“That’s all right then.”</p> - -<p>For about a minute, Mr. Keller puffed away in a -sort of whimsical silence. Then he said with a soft -fall, whose mere sweetness had the power to alarm, -“Your hair’s jolly. Very jolly indeed!”</p> - -<p>June nervously muttered that she was very glad he -liked it.</p> - -<p>“So much of it, don’t you know. Awfully useful -to me just now. Quantity’s almost as valuable as the -colour. Does it reach your waist when you let it -down?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span></p> - -<p>June, not without a little pride, said that her hair -when let down reached below her waist.</p> - -<p>“Capital!” said Mr. Keller, with a laugh. “The -very thing I’m looking for just now. You’ll make a -stunning Andromeda.”</p> - -<p>June had not heard of Andromeda. She had read -some Dickens, and a little George Eliot, and she could -remember bits of Shakespeare learned at school, but her -tastes were not literary. She pretended to know all about -Andromeda, yet the next words of Mr. Keller were -a proof that he was not deceived. June did not -know, however, that he had pierced clean through -her ignorance.</p> - -<p>“She’s the altogether. A classical subject.”</p> - -<p>“I like classical subjects myself.” Abruptly June’s -mind went back to Miss Preece, the revered head mistress -of the Blackhampton High School where it had -been her privilege to spend one term. Her voice rose -a whole octave, in its involuntary desire to approximate -as closely as possible to that of a real lady.</p> - -<p>“So do I.” Mr. Keller’s humorous purr was that -of a man well pleased. “That’s capital.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t beat classical subjects, can you?” said -June, making a wild attempt to achieve the conversational.</p> - -<p>Again Mr. Keller looked across at her out of those -near-set eyes of which by now she was rather afraid. -“No, you can’t,” he said. “So large and so simple, and -yet they strike so deep. They are life itself. A sort of -summing up, don’t you know, of all that has been, all -that can be, all that will be.”</p> - -<p>June responded with more composure than she had -yet shewn that she supposed it was so. It was nice to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span> -listen to talk of this kind from a man of Mr. Keller’s -polish. The chair was most comfortable, and how good -it was to be in front of the bright fire! Her nerves -were being lulled more and more as if by a drug; the -sense of her peril amid this sea of danger into which -she had plunged began to grow less.</p> - -<p>“I expect,” said Mr. Keller, in a tone so friendly -and so casual that it fed the new sense of peace which -was now upon June, “I expect you are pretty well used -to the altogether?”</p> - -<p>Even if she did not know in the least what was meant -by “the altogether,” it did not seem to be quite wise to -confess such ignorance. “Ye-es, I suppose I am.” -And in a weak attempt to rise to his own agreeable -plane of intimacy she laughed rather foolishly.</p> - -<p>“Capital!” said Adolph Keller. “You are a well -built girl.” He sipped a little whisky. “Excellent -shoulders. Figure’s full of fine lines. Bust well -developed. Plenty of heart room. Everything just -right.”</p> - -<p>She coloured at the literal way in which he catalogued -her points; even if it was done in the manner -of an artist and a gentleman, one was a little reminded -of a dog or a horse.</p> - -<p>“I’ll fix you up a screen. And then you can get -ready.” He sipped a little more whisky, and rose -briskly and cheerfully. “Near the fire; it’s real chillsome -to-night. And when you pose you can sit on top -of it if you like.” He opened the lid of the coal box, -and replenished the fire. “We must take care you don’t -catch cold. If you feel a draught, you can have a rug -round your knees. I only want to make a rough sketch -of the lines of the figure, to begin with; the shoulders<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span> -chiefly. It won’t take long. Quite sure you won’t have -a finger?” He pointed to the whisky. “Buck you up -a bit. You look rather down.”</p> - -<p>June was quite sure that she would not have a finger. -Mr. Keller passed beyond the screen into the studio -itself to procure a second screen. June felt this activity -to be alarming. It brought her up against the fact -that she was there in the capacity of an artist’s model. -Suddenly it dawned upon her that she was expected to -take off her clothes.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXVIII">XXXVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">M</span>r. Keller</span> cleared a space near the fire, and -elaborately arranged a second screen, which -June did not fail to notice was decorated with nude -figures.</p> - -<p>“There you are,” he said. “That’ll keep you snug. -And if you sit on a stool by the fire with a rug over -your knees, you’ll be as warm as a kitten.”</p> - -<p>June paled, but she did not speak.</p> - -<p>“Begin as soon as you like, the sooner the better. -Are you quite sure you won’t have just a spot?” Again -he pointed to the bottle on the table. “You look as if -you want a drop of something.”</p> - -<p>Once more June declined the offer in a voice which -in her own ear seemed absurdly small and faint.</p> - -<p>“Pity,” said Mr. Keller cheerfully, as he looked at -her. “It’d put some life in you.” And then, as she -was still inert, he went on in a tone which pleasantly -mingled gentlemanliness and business, “I always pay -a sovereign an hour, you know—for the altogether.”</p> - -<p>A light of fear came into June’s large eyes. “Does -it mean,” she asked, shyly and awkwardly, as she -looked away from him, “that I shall have to take off -my clothes?”</p> - -<p>“Why, of course,” he said, matter-of-factly. Her -obvious embarrassment was not lost upon him, but the -knowledge did not appear in his manner.</p> - -<p>June shivered slightly. In that shiver a deep instinct -spoke for her. “I couldn’t do that,” she said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span></p> - -<p>“Why not?” He lit a cigarette. “Aren’t you -well?”</p> - -<p>June was very far from well. She felt within an -ace of being overcome by all that had happened to her. -Besides her bruised shoulders were still aching horribly. -Even without the deep instinct that governed her, it -would not have been possible to expose them.</p> - -<p>“No-no,” she said, “I—I’m not well.”</p> - -<p>As she spoke, she had to fight a powerful desire to -burst into tears. But her latent fear of this man had -suddenly grown. Overdriven as she was, however, -she was yet conscious of a stern need to keep a hold -upon herself. She knew nothing, less than nothing of -her host, beyond the fact that he was smooth of speech. -On the surface he was a gentleman, but as he stood -looking down at her now she glimpsed in his dark eyes -that which seemed to countervail everything.</p> - -<p>Again she shivered. The sense of helplessness was -paralyzing. It was as if a chasm had abruptly opened -right under her feet. She was at his mercy. But she -must not give one thought, so long as a spark of will -remained with her, to the possibility of throwing herself -upon it.</p> - -<p>He continued to stand looking at her while she -fought against a welling weakness that must have been -only too patent. Then, as if a little puzzled by her, he -went and fetched a glass from another part of the -studio. He poured out a small quantity of spirit and -offered it neat.</p> - -<p>“Drink this. It’ll do you good.”</p> - -<p>His voice, for the first time, had the grip of authority. -He held the glass to her lips, but as if containing -deadly fumes they shrank from contact with it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span></p> - -<p>“Don’t be a little fool.” The sharp tone was like -the touch of a whip. “Why don’t you do as you are -told?”</p> - -<p>She had not the strength to resent the command -even if she was able to muster the power to resist it.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” he said, confronted by a limit to patience. -“Why have you come? What’s the matter -with you? Tell me.”</p> - -<p>She remained mute. There was nothing she could -tell. A lodging for the night, food, advice, protection -were what she sought. Dominated completely as she -was by hard necessity, she yet dare not confide in -Keller. The subtle change that had come upon him -since he had fixed up the screen and poured out the -whisky filled her with an intense longing to get away. -In spite of a growing weakness, which now threatened -dire collapse, the subtle feelers of her mind were on -the track of danger.</p> - -<p>With a slow gathering of will that was a form of -agony, she tried to collect the force to rise from the -perilous comfort of the low wicker chair. But she was -not able to rouse herself to action before the effort had -been nipped by his next remark.</p> - -<p>“If you’ve no intention of sitting to me, you’d better -say in two words why you’ve come here.”</p> - -<p>The voice was no longer smooth; there was a cutting -edge to it, lacerating to June’s ear.</p> - -<p>“I wanted you to lend me a sovereign.”</p> - -<p>It was the literal truth. But the unguarded words -slipped from her before she could shape or control them. -Almost before they were uttered she realized their bitter -unwisdom.</p> - -<p>“You can have a sovereign—if that’s all you want.”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span> -His tone grew light again. “But it’s only fair and -reasonable that you should earn it first.”</p> - -<p>Strive as she would, she was not able to keep a faint -dew of tears from filming her eyes.</p> - -<p>“No need to take off more than your bodice, if that’s -what’s troubling you.”</p> - -<p>With her shoulders on fire, she could not take off her -bodice, even had she wished to do so.</p> - -<p>She sat inert while he continued to stand before her. -The thread of will she still had, fully concentrated -though it was on getting away from him, was now unequal -to the ugly challenge of his voice and eyes.</p> - -<p>“Let me go,” she half whimpered.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, in her own despite, her defences had -begun palpably to fail. The blunder was fatal—if the -cry of nature overdriven can be called a blunder. His -eyes pinned hers. Trembling under the spell of their -hard cunning she began to perceive that it was now a -case of the serpent and the bird.</p> - -<p>A frown darkened his face as he cast back to the -first meeting with this girl. He tried to recall their -conversation in the teashop two days ago. At the -time it had interested him considerably, but he had -laughed over it since, and decided to dismiss it from -his mind. She had told him a cock-and-bull story about -a picture. He could not recall the details of an absurd -yarn which had not seemed worth his while to remember. -At the best it was a bald and unconvincing -narrative. But it concerned a Rembrandt. No, not a -Rembrandt. A Van Roon!</p> - -<p>With a heightening of curiosity, Adolph Keller -gazed at the hunted creature now shrinking from his -eyes. By Jove, she looked as if she had been through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span> -it! Something pretty bad must have happened to her -quite recently. But why had she come to him?</p> - -<p>Thoughts of the picture set his active mind to work. -She had come to him because she was in want of -money. So much, at least, was clear. To judge by -the look of her, she had probably, at a moment’s notice, -been turned out of house and home. A domestic -servant, no doubt, and no better than she should be, -although a certain taste about her much-rumpled clothes -and an attempt at refinement of manner suggested the -wish to rise above her class.</p> - -<p>In the midst of this quick mind process, Adolph -Keller saw the brown paper parcel. It was in the place -where his visitor had laid it when she had first sat -down. He noticed that she had cunningly reared it -by the farther side of her chair, so that it might be -beyond the immediate range of his eye.</p> - -<p>Keller’s pulse quickened, yet he allowed no hint of -his intriguing discovery to shew in his manner. Once -again it changed towards his guest. The tone of sharp -authority vanished. Twisting a dark moustache round -strong, yet delicate fingers, his air of extreme gentlemanliness -verged upon the sugary, as he said: “I don’t -like to see you like this. I don’t really.”</p> - -<p>The tone’s unexpectedness, perhaps even more than -its kindness, moved June to further tears.</p> - -<p>“You had better tell me, hadn’t you, just what’s -upset you?”</p> - -<p>She shook miserably. And then, thrown off her -guard, by this new note of concern, she found the -courage to venture again: “Please lend me a sovereign -and let me go. I promise solemnly to pay it back.”</p> - -<p>He smiled in a way obviously to reassure. “What’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span> -your hurry, my dear girl?” Soft, as were the words, -they yet caused the design to fail.</p> - -<p>Their non-effect was clearly visible in the girl’s tragic -eyes. She was caught in a trap; all his trimmings and -posturings seemed only to emphasize the fact that she -had no means of getting out.</p> - -<p>Like a powerful drug the brutal truth attacked her -brain. It was as if its higher nerve centres could no -longer act. She was completely in the power of this -man. And only too well did she know that he knew it.</p> - -<p>Inevitably as fate, those slim fingers dipped towards -the side of her chair. “What have we here?” The -inflexion was lightly playful, yet it drove all the blood -from her heart. “May I look?” His hand closed on -the parcel before she could muster one futile finger to -stay it.</p> - -<p>Galvanized, as if by electricity, she sprang up from -her chair without knowing what she did. “Please—it’s -mine!” Without conscious volition she tried weakly to -defend her property.</p> - -<p>He put her off with the cheery playfulness of a teasing -brother. “Just one little peep,” he said. The treasure -was yielding its wrappings already to those deft -fingers. Smiling all the time, he treated the thing as -a mere joke. And he was able to give the joke full -effect, because, not for an instant did he expect it to -turn out anything else.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XXXIX">XXXIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>dolph Keller</span> gave a low whistle. He took -in his breath quickly. The treasure, in its rare -incredible beauty, had declared itself to his eyes. And -to the eyes of an artist, wholly unready for the revelation, -it came in a single devastating flash.</p> - -<p>“My God!” he said, in a whisper, half rapture, half -surprise.</p> - -<p>Aglow with excitement he removed the shade from -the electric lamp. Holding the picture beneath the light, -an arm’s length away from his eyes, he turned it over -several times in that fashion of the expert which June -had now learned to dread. And then humming softly, -and with his fingers still enclosing it, he passed beyond -the screen to a table on which lay a microscope.</p> - -<p>With a feeling of nausea, June watched everything -he did. Only too well she knew that the microscope -would simply feed his excitement. In a fresh spasm of -weakness, she reeled against the chimneypiece. She -had now the sensation of having fallen over a precipice -into a bottomless pit. Already she was sinking down, -down, down into night and damnation.</p> - -<p>Keller soon returned, microscope in hand; and while -he plied it under the lamp she dare not glance at his -face. Passively she waited for his next words. The -power of action had left her.</p> - -<p>When, at last, he did speak, his voice was calmer and -gentler than she looked for. “Tell me,” he said, “how -did you come by this rather jolly old thing?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span></p> - -<p>The tone of playfulness was almost silly. But she -was not deceived, for striking through it was the oiliness -of Uncle Si. And she knew that she had only to -glance at that face shining pale under the lamp, which -was a thing she dare not do, to carry the resemblance -farther.</p> - -<p>“Tell me,” he repeated softly.</p> - -<p>A sense of destiny seemed to weigh her down.</p> - -<p>“It has been given to me.” Her voice was hardly -audible.</p> - -<p>“Given to you.” He smiled a little, as his mind -went off in search of the half forgotten fragments of -their talk two days ago. “Let me see—your best boy, -wasn’t it?—who made you a present of a picture—by -a well known R. A.?”</p> - -<p>June did not know how to answer, yet she was able -to realize that an answer of some kind was imperative.</p> - -<p>“That’s it,” she said. There was nothing else she -could say.</p> - -<p>“I rather like this thing, do you know.” His voice -was acquiring a sort of growing brightness which -seemed quite to admit her to his confidence. “It might -almost have been painted by the snuffy old Scotsman—one -MacFarlane by name—who first shewed me how -to draw. It’s just in his manner. By Jove!”—The -voice of Adolph Keller seemed to glow with humour—“I -can almost see that cantankerous whiskyfied old fool -daubing that water and those trees. But in his day not -a bad painter, you know, not a bad painter.” And the -voice of the pupil tailed off in a note of reluctant affection -of which he seemed half ashamed.</p> - -<p>It was June’s turn to say something, but her frozen -lips could not utter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span></p> - -<p>Keller, holding the picture in both hands, gave her -a side look, which he tried, as far as he could, to conceal. -In the midst of this scrutiny, he said: “To you, -I expect, one picture is very much the same as another?”</p> - -<p>“I know what I like,” June was able to answer, perhaps -for no better reason than that by now she understood -only too well that it hardly mattered what she -answered.</p> - -<p>“Well, anyhow, that’s something,” said Keller, with -a forced laugh. “Great thing to know your mind in -these little matters. Nice of your best boy—was your -best boy, wasn’t it?—to give you this. Not that it’s -worth much to the ordinary buyer. Pictures are like -lovers, you know. Their beauty, sometimes, is in the -eye of the beholder.”</p> - -<p>It sickened her to hear him lie in this way. The -deadly sensation of falling, falling, falling came over -her again. But she let him run on. For one thing -she lacked the power to check him; and even had the -power been hers it would have been worse than futile -to try to do so.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XL">XL</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">“L</span>ook</span> here,” said Adolph Keller, in the midst -of his prattle. “I’ve taken rather a fancy to -this bit of a thing. Suppose you let me have it. I’ll give -you a landscape in exchange; I’ve one or two that -are not so bad, and you shall have your pick. Moreover,” -and he fixed June with a steady eye, “you shall -have your sovereign as well.”</p> - -<p>She shook her head tensely. Inclination now wished -to tell him the fabulous worth of the picture; but prudence -said no. The calculated way in which he had -lied was proof enough that he knew its value already. -She held out her hand. In a voice dry and choking she -said: “Please give it to me. I ought to be going.”</p> - -<p>He gazed at her with the eye of a condor. “Much -better take what you can get for it, hadn’t you? It’ll -be a difficult thing to sell, you know. This is quite -a fair offer.”</p> - -<p>“Give it me, please,” June gasped miserably.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be a little fool.”</p> - -<p>The tone was like the closing of a door. She knew -at once that he had not the remotest intention of giving -it back to her. And what followed immediately upon -the words made the fact only too clear. He laid the -picture on a table some little distance away, and then -pouring out a quantity of spirit he drank it neat. His -next act was to produce a case from which he took -forth a pound note.</p> - -<p>“Here you are,” he said roughly. “Take this and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span> -be jolly thankful. And then make yourself scarce, as -soon as you like.”</p> - -<p>It was an intimation that there was going to be no -more pretence. The tone was that of a cynical bully -who judged it to be best for both parties that the owner -of the Van Roon should now be given an unmistakable -perception of reality.</p> - -<p>Overdriven as June was, the knowledge that at the -very last she was to be robbed of the fruits of her hard-won -victory was more than she could bear. Faced by -this man’s cool insolence and mean cunning, she was -swept by a tide of rage. He knew that she could have -no proof of ownership, and he was going to reap a full -advantage from the fact. At that moment, of an unendurable -bitterness, she was spurred and lashed by the -same Devil which two hours ago had driven Uncle Si -to frenzy.</p> - -<p>“The picture’s mine,” she cried hoarsely. And then, -advancing towards the table. “Give it me ... you -thief!”</p> - -<p>At the ugly word he recoiled a step, but the next -instant he grabbed her by the wrists. In the struggle -to get free, she felt his evil breath upon her face. -Many a dram must have gone to so much foulness; -as his powerful grip slowly fastened upon her there -came swift knowledge of a new and more urgent peril.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She was alone with this man in his own flat. Utterly -without a means of defence as she was, she had been -mad enough to offer him a physical challenge. In a -few seconds she would be at his mercy. And then, inflamed -by drink, and being the kind of beast that he -was he would insist upon the spoils of the victor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span></p> - -<p>Before she was fully alive to what was taking place -she found herself forced slowly backwards to the wall. -She knew then that she was fighting for her life, and -for that which in this unspeakable moment implied so -much more.</p> - -<p>“I’ll teach you to come here, you——!” His face was -that of a maniac.</p> - -<p>She gave a shriek of terror and lashed out wildly at -his shins. Fighting like a tigress, at first she kept him -at bay. The power of his hands was terrific, but she -did not scruple to use the weapons nature had given -her. After a long and horrible minute of claws, teeth -and feet, in the course of which she bit him savagely, -it grew reasonably clear to Adolph Keller that if only -she cares to use it, the female of the species does not -lack a means of defence.</p> - -<p>“You beauty!” he gasped, as he struggled to shift -his grip upon her.</p> - -<p>Goaded by the furies he found his way at last to her -throat. And then she felt that he was going to kill her. -Moreover, as his madman’s grip began slowly to distil -her life through its fingers, he perceived how simple a -matter it was going to be.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLI">XLI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">K</span>eller’s</span> own defences were almost down, but -just in the nick of time was he able to realize -this fact. And man of calculation that he was, even -in this moment of madness, when each devil in his soul -conspired for his final overthrow, he was able, by dint -of underlying coolness of blood to make a powerful -effort to save himself.</p> - -<p>He longed to kill this wretched girl, but as he pressed -his fingers into the soft and delicate throat, he was -stayed by thoughts of the price that would have to be -paid for wreaking an insane passion upon her.</p> - -<p>For a wild instant he feared that the premonition had -come too late; the primordial beast in his heart had -slipped its chain. Already it had tasted blood. In -this frenzy of revolt, the fetters imposed by centuries -of civil life were hardly likely to be submitted to again.</p> - -<p>Gasping and helpless June felt that she was dying. -The clutch upon her was that of the garotte. Her -eyes began to darken. Clawing the air for the breath -she could not draw, the end that seemed inevitable -now was yet far off.</p> - -<p>At last, as if responding to her prayer, a kind of -stupor came upon her. But how tardily! Brain, heart, -soul, body contended no more against a power beyond -their own; at last her slow life was ebbing. The end -of torment indescribable would be akin to joy.</p> - -<p>Æons seemed to pass. A flicker of summer lightning,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span> -ages off, came and was not. So faint it was and -so far that it could only be reckoned in terms of -eternity. More light flickered which, of a sudden, grew -miraculously near. The vivid sense of pain returned; -she grew alive to the fact that the harsh glare of the -electric bulb, which was still unshaded, was beating -down upon her eyes.</p> - -<p>Powerful arms were about her, she was being supported. -The fumes of raw spirit were in her nostrils, -a glass was pressed against her lips. She fought again -to get free, only feebly now, for this was but a last -reaction of a dying will. Yet the final word of all -was nature’s. When mind itself had ceased to count, -the life-force grasped wildly at the proffered means of -life.</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” she heard a thick voice mutter. “I -felt sure you were a goner.”</p> - -<p>A livid face, whose eyes seemed to blind her own, -materialized suddenly before her. “Drink it up, damn -you!” said the voice hoarsely. “And then get out—you——!”</p> - -<p>It was insult for the sake of insult, and therefore -the full measure of her victory. But it meant less -than nothing to June now. She scarcely heard, or -hearing did not comprehend. Beyond pain and suffering, -beyond good and evil her torn spirit only craved -release.</p> - -<p>As soon as the fire in the glass had kindled her veins -this desire was met, less, however, by the operation -of her own will than by the will of Keller. As if she -had been a noisome reptile whom his flesh abhorred, -and yet had a superstitious fear of killing, he dragged -her out of the room, along the short passage as far<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span> -as the door of the flat. Slipping back the catch, he -flung her out on to the landing.</p> - -<p>As she fetched up against the iron railing opposite -the door, which guarded the well of the staircase, she -heard a low hiss: “Take yourself off as soon as you -like, you——, or you’ll find the police on your track.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLII">XLII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> had no idea of the time that she lay in a huddle -against the railing. But it may not have been -so long in fact as it was in experience. Shattered she -might be, yet unknown to herself, there was still a -reserve of fighting power to draw upon.</p> - -<p>Cold iron, moreover, and raw air had a magic of -their own. Clear of that mephitic room and the foul -presence of Keller, a fine human machine began slowly -to renew itself. Except for a faint gleam from -the room out of which she had just come, stealing -through the fanlight of the door out of which she had -been flung, there was not a sign of light upon the -staircase. The entire building appeared to be deserted. -Its stone-flagged steps were full of echoes as soon as -she ventured to move upon them; and when clinging -to the railing for support she had painfully descended -two she entered a region of total darkness.</p> - -<p>It was like going down into a pit. Could she have -only been sure that death awaited her below, she might -have been tempted to fling herself into it headlong. -But she knew that the ground was not far off.</p> - -<p>Three or four steps more brought her to the vestibule. -At the end of it was a door, open to the street. -Outside this door shone a faint lamp, round which -weird shadows circled in a ghostly witch-dance. The -night beyond was a wall of horrors, which she had lost -the will to face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span></p> - -<p>Met by this pitiless alternative, she recoiled against -the wall of the vestibule, huddling in its darkest corner, -behind the stairs. Crouching here, like a hunted thing -at bay, she fought for the courage to go out and face -her destiny.</p> - -<p>She fought in vain. Half collapsed as she now was, -a spur was needed to drive her into the grim wilderness -of the open street. One glance at the crypt outside -sufficed to tell her that with no point to make for, it -would be best to stay where she was and hope soon -to die.</p> - -<p>Why had she not had the sense to throw herself -down the stairs and kill herself? A means would have -to be found before the night was out. She could bear -no more. A terrible reaction was upon her. It was -as if a private door in her mind had suddenly given -way and a school of awful phantoms had rushed in -and flooded it.</p> - -<p>She was living in a nightmare that was too bad to -be true. But it was true and there lay its terror. -Adrift in the dark canyons of that vast city, penniless -and alone, with the marks of thieves and murderers -upon her bruised body, and her treasure stolen, there -was only one thing to look for now.</p> - -<p>Death, however, would not be easy to come by. As -she huddled in cold darkness in the recess behind the -stairs she felt that her will was going. To enter the -night and make an end would need courage; but a -miserable clapping together of the jaws was sign -enough that the last hope of all was slipping away -from her.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIII">XLIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">C</span>owering</span> in body and spirit in that dark corner, -time, for June, became of no account. Perhaps, -after all, she might be allowed to die where she -was. As a kind of inertia crept upon her she was able -to draw something of comfort from the thought. It -would be better than the river or being run over in the -street.</p> - -<p>She grew very cold; yet a lowering of the body’s -temperature induced a heightened consciousness. Aches -and pains sprang into life; the forces of her mind began -to reassert themselves; the phantoms about her took -on new powers of menace. Gradually it became clear -to June, under the goad of this new and sharper phase -of suffering, that mere passivity could not induce the -death she longed for.</p> - -<p>No, it was not in that way the end would come. -She would have to go into the shadow-land beyond the -lamp, and seek some positive means of destroying herself. -For that reason she must hold on to the fragment -of will that now remained to her. It alone could release -her from the awful pit in which she was now engulfed.</p> - -<p>She gathered herself for an effort to move towards -the fog-encircled light at the entrance to the street. -But the effort, when made, amounted to nothing. Her -limbs were paper, all power of volition was gone.</p> - -<p>The October raw struck to her blood. She began -to whimper miserably. To pain of mind was added<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span> -pain of body, but the delicate apparatus from whose -harmony sprang the fuse of action was out of gear. -Something must be done; yet no matter how definite -the task, any form of doing was beyond her now.</p> - -<p>At this dire moment, however, help came. It came, -moreover, in an unlooked-for way. She heard a door -slam over head. There was the sound of a match -being struck, and then came a gingerly shuffle of feet -on the stone stairs.</p> - -<p>Someone was coming down. June cowered still -lower into the dark recess at the back of the stairway. -A man was approaching. And by the flicker of the -match which he threw away as he reached the floor of -the vestibule she saw that the man was Keller.</p> - -<p>Faint and but momentary as was the glimpse afforded, -June, with every sense strung again to the point -of intensity, saw that under Keller’s arm was a brown -paper parcel. The sight of it was like a charm. Some -fabulous djinnee might have lurked in that neat package, -who commanded a miraculous power of reaction -upon the human will.</p> - -<p>Keller struck a second match and peered into the -shadows. June knew that he was looking to see if she -had lingered there, but the light could not pierce to -the corner in which she crouched; and it burnt itself -out, leaving him none the wiser.</p> - -<p>Without striking another match Keller moved away -from her towards the doorway, and as he did so June -felt a swift release of heart and brain. A thrill of -new energy ran through her. No sooner had Keller -passed out of the vestibule, beyond the lamp into the -fog, than without conscious impulse or design she began -to follow him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span></p> - -<p>It may have been the reasoned act of a lucid being, -but at first it did not appear to be so. Once, however, -her limbs were moving, all her faculties, now intensely -awake, seemed as if by magic to bear them company. -As soon as she reached the open street, with Keller a -clear ten yards ahead, the keen air on her face had an -effect of strong wine. Her nerves felt again the sense -of motion; the impulse of the natural fighter unfurled -strong pinions within her. All the virile sense and the -indomitable will of a sound inheritance rallied to her -need.</p> - -<p>Growing sensibly stronger at every yard, she followed -Keller round the corner into Manning Square. -The mist was thick, the lamps poor and few, but as -well as she could she kept on his track. Lurking pantherlike -in the deep shadows of the house-walls, she -had approached within five yards of him by the time he -had turned the corner into a bye-street. He went a -few yards along this, and then zigzagged into a squalid -ill-smelling thoroughfare whose dismal length seemed -unending.</p> - -<p>June had no difficulty in keeping up with these twists -and winds, for Keller, impeded by the fog, moved -slowly. For her, however, the fog had its own special -problem, since there was a danger of losing him if -he was allowed to get too far ahead; and yet if his -steps were dogged too closely there was always the -fear that he might turn round suddenly and see her.</p> - -<p>At last the interminable street seemed to be nearing -its end. For June, whose every faculty was now strung -up to an unnatural acuteness, saw but a short distance -in front the brightly lit awning of the Underground -looming through the fog.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span></p> - -<p>In a flash she realized the nature of the peril. Only -too surely was this the bourn for which Keller was -making. Once within its precincts and her last remaining -hope would be gone.</p> - -<p>It must be now or never. The spur of occasion -drove deep in her heart. She knew but too well that -the hope was tragically small, but wholly desperate as -she was, with the penalty of failure simply not to be -met, she would put all to the touch.</p> - -<p>Closer and closer she crept up behind the quarry. -But the entrance to the Tube loomed now so near that -it began to seem certain that she must lose him before -she could attempt what she had to do. Abruptly, however, -within ten yards or so of his goal, Keller stopped. -He began to search the pockets of his overcoat for a -box of matches to relight his pipe which had gone out. -While so doing, and in the preoccupation of the moment, -he took the parcel from under his right arm, -and set it rather carelessly beneath his left.</p> - -<p>Providence had given June her chance. Like a -falcon, she swooped forward. Aim and timing incredibly -true, at the instant Keller struck a match and -bent over his pipe, her fingers closed on the Van Roon, -and whisked it out of his unguarded grasp.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIV">XLIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>s</span> June turned and ran she heard a wild and -startled oath. Before her was the eternal fog-laden -darkness of the narrow street. But now it struck -her with a thrill of pure terror that the mist was not -thick enough to conceal her flight. The swift surprise -of the onset had gained for her a start of a few yards, -but instantly she knew that it would not suffice.</p> - -<p>She ran, all the same, as if her heart would burst. -But her legs seemed to wear the shackles that afflict -one in a dream. Her most frantic efforts did not urge -them on, and yet, in spite of that, they bore her better -than she knew. Not a soul was in sight. She could -hear Keller’s boots echo on the damp pavement as they -pounded behind her. It could only be a matter of -seconds before his fingers were again on her throat. -But this time, before robbing her of the Van Roon -and getting clear, he would have to kill her.</p> - -<p>The vow had hardly been made, when at the other -side of the street she saw a thread of light. It came -from a house whose door was open. Instinctively she -turned and made one final dash for it. This was the -last wild hope there was.</p> - -<p>A man, it seemed, was in the act of leaving the house. -Wearing overcoat and hat, he stood just within the -doorway peering into the murk before venturing out. -June flung herself literally upon him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span></p> - -<p>“Save me! Save me!” she was able to gasp. “A -man! A man is after me!”</p> - -<p>The house was of the poverty-stricken kind whose -living room opens on to the street. June had a confused -vision of a glowing lamp, a bright fire, a dingy -tablecloth and several people seated around it. Her -wild impact upon the man who was about to put off -from its threshold drove him backwards several paces -into the room. At the same instant a female voice, -loud and imperious, rose from the table.</p> - -<p>“Shut the door, Elbert, can’t yer? The fog’s comin’ -in that thick it’ll put out the perishin’ fire.”</p> - -<p>The bewildered Elbert, raked fore and aft by fierce -women, automatically obeyed the truculent voice at -his back, even while he gave ground in a collision which -seemed to rob him of any wit that he might possess. -With a deft turn of the heel, he dealt the door a kick -which effectually closed it in the murderous face of -the halting and hesitating Keller.</p> - -<p>June, shuddering in every vein, clung to her protector.</p> - -<p>“Gawd-love-us-all!” Cries and commotion arose from -the table, yet almost at once the imperious voice soared -above the din. “Set her down, can’t yer, Elbert? -Didn’t yer see that bloke?”</p> - -<p>“Ah—I did,” said Elbert, stolidly pressing his queer -armful into a chair near the fire.</p> - -<p>“Better git after him lively,” said the voice at the -table. “He’s the one as did in Kitty Lewis last week.”</p> - -<p>Elbert, a young man six feet tall and proportionately -broad of shoulder, was not however a squire of dames. -With a scared look on a face that even in circumstances -entirely favourable could hardly rank as a thing of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span> -beauty, he moved to the door and slipped a bolt across. -“Not goin’ near the——” he said, sullenly. “Not -goin’ to be mixed up wiv it—not me.”</p> - -<p>The voice at the table, whose owner was addressed -as Maw, proceeded “to tell off” Elbert. He was a -skunk, he was no man, he was a mean swine. In the -sight of Maw, who ran to words as well as flesh, Elbert -was all this and more. She rose majestically, threatening -to “dot him” if he didn’t “’op in,” and she came -to June with an enormous bosom striving to burst -from its anchorage, an apron that had once been white, -and with her entire person exuding an odour peculiar -to those of her sex who drink gin out of a teacup.</p> - -<p>Three other people were at the table, and they were -engaged upon a meal of toasted cheese, raw onions and -beer. Of these, two were girls about sixteen, scared, -slatternly and anæmic; the third was a toothless hag -who looked ninety; and as the whole family, headed -by Maw, suddenly crowded round June, the terrified -fugitive, shuddering in the chair by the fire, hardly -knew which of her deliverers was the most repulsive.</p> - -<p>June fought with every bit of her strength against -the threat of total collapse that assailed her now. In -the desperate hope of warding off disaster, she gathered -the last broken fragment of will. But nature had -been driven too hard. For the second time within the -space of one terrible hour, she lost the sense of where -she was.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLV">XLV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> faces, with one exception, had receded into -the background, when June returned slowly and -painfully to a knowledge of what was happening. Maw -was bending over her, and holding a cracked cup to -her lips, and also “telling off” the others with a force -and a scope of language that added not a little to -June’s fear.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the smell of its contents had quite as much -effect upon the sufferer as the cup’s restorative powers. -It was so distasteful to one who had been taught to -shun all forms of alcohol, that a sheer disgust helped -to bring her round.</p> - -<p>At first, however, her mind was hardly more than -a blank. But when, at last, a few links of recognition -floated up into it out of the immediate past and hitched -themselves to this strange present, a shock of new -terror nearly overwhelmed her again. Recollection -was like a knife stab. The Van Roon! The Van -Roon! Where was it? Oh, God—if she had not got -it after all!</p> - -<p>The thought was pain, pure and exquisite. But the -case did not really call for it. She was clutching the -Van Roon convulsively to her breast like a child holds -a doll. As she wakened slowly to this fact her brain -wonderfully cleared.</p> - -<p>The mind must be kept alive, if only to defend this -talisman for whose sake she had already suffered so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span> -outrageously. She did not know where she was, and -the evil presence holding the foul cup to her lips, and -those other evil presences filling the background beyond -gave her an intense apprehension.</p> - -<p>Maw, however, in spite of a general air of obscenity, -meant well. It was not easy for this fact to declare -itself through that loud voice and ruthless mien; but -gradually it began to percolate to June’s violated -nerves, and so gave her a fleck of courage to hold on -to that sense of identity which still threatened at the -first moment again to desert her.</p> - -<p>“Where was you goin’, deery?”</p> - -<p>Rude the tone, but when June’s ear disentangled the -words, she was able to appreciate that they were spoken -in the way of kindness. But if the knowledge brought -a spark of comfort it was quickly dowsed. Where was -she going? To that grim question there was no possible -answer.</p> - -<p>“Scared out of her life, poor lamb!” said Maw. -With furtive truculence she announced the fact to the -rather awed spectators who gathered once more about -the sufferer.</p> - -<p>“Where you come from?”</p> - -<p>June’s only answer was a shiver. The frozen silence -was so full of the uncanny that Maw shook her own -head dismally and tapped it with a grimy finger.</p> - -<p>In the view of Maw, for such a calamity there was -only one remedy. Once more the cup was pressed to -June’s lips; once more it was resisted, this time with a -hint of fierceness reassuring to the onlookers, inasmuch -that it implied a return of life.</p> - -<p>“Looks respectable,” said the cracked voice of the -crone, who was now at Maw’s elbow.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span></p> - -<p>“Where was you goin’?” demanded Maw again.</p> - -<p>June was beyond tears, or she would have shed -them. Now that the facts of the situation in all their -hopelessness were streaming back to her, a feeling of -sheer impotence kept her dumb.</p> - -<p>“Off her rocker,” said Elbert gloomily.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLVI">XLVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>mid</span> the silence which followed Elbert’s remark, -June fought hard to cast her weakness off. She -wanted no longer to die. The recovery of the talisman -inhibited, at least for the time being, that desire. -Acutely aware that the Van Roon was still miraculously -hers, she felt that come what might she must go on.</p> - -<p>But her position was hopeless indeed. She dare not -venture out of doors, with a murderous thief waiting -to spring upon her. And if venture she did, there -was nowhere she could go. Besides, had there been -any place of refuge for such a weary bundle of frightened -misery, without money and with a sorry ignorance -of the fog-bound maze of bricks and mortar in which -she was now lost, there would have been no means of -getting to her destination.</p> - -<p>At the same time, she had no wish to stay with these -uncouth, ill-looking, evil-smelling people one moment -longer than was necessary. In a curiously intimate -way she was reminded of that grim story Oliver Twist, -which had so powerfully haunted her youth. To her -distorted mind, this squalid interior was a veritable -thieves’ kitchen, the crone a female Fagin, the angel -of the cup, a counterpart of Bill Sikes, and the gloomy, -beetle-browed Elbert a kind of Artful Dodger grown -up. She and her treasure could never be safe in such -a place, yet at the other side of the door nameless -horrors awaited her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span></p> - -<p>In June’s present state it was far beyond her power -to cope with so dire a problem. Keeping a stony -silence as those faces, devoured by curiosity, pressed -ever closer upon her, she half surrendered to her -weakness again.</p> - -<p>Amid the new waves of misery which threatened -to submerge her, she was wrenched fiercely back to -sensibility. The Van Roon was torn by a strong -hand from her grasp. As if a spring had been pressed -in her heart she rose with a little cry. Maw was in -the act of handing the picture to Elbert. “There’s a -label on it, ain’t there?” she said.</p> - -<p>Still half stupefied, June clung to the table for support, -while Elbert, who was evidently the family -scholar, read out slowly the name and address that -was written upon the parcel: “Miss Babraham, 39b -Park Lane, W.”</p> - -<p>June was hardly in a state just then to grasp the -significance of the words. Her mind was wholly given -up to concern for the treasure which had passed to alien -hands. And yet the words had significance, even for -her, as the mind-process they induced soon began to -reveal.</p> - -<p>A locked door of memory, of which she had lost -the key, seemed to glide back. Thoughts of William, -of his friend, the tall, beautiful and distinguished -wearer of the blue crepe de chine, and of Sir Arthur, -her father, came crowding into her brain. And with -them came a perceptible easing of spirit, as if they -had been sped by the kindly hand of that Providence, -of whom she had never been so much in need.</p> - -<p>The recognition of this acted upon her like a charm. -Girt by the knowledge that she was not alone in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span> -world after all, and that friends might be at hand if -only she could reach out to them, her mind began once -more to function.</p> - -<p>Even while Maw and Elbert were occupying themselves -with the parcel’s address and its specific importance, -June was fain to inquire of an awaking self -how such magic words came to be there at such a -moment. Casting back to recent events, over which -oblivion had swept, she was able to recall certain -strands in the subtle woof of Fate. Days ago, years -they seemed now, Miss Babraham had sent to William -a picture frame to be restored. The stout brown paper -in which it had been wrapped appealed to June’s thrifty -soul, and she had stowed it away in her box for use -on a future occasion. Her mind’s new, almost dangerous -clarity, enabled her to remember that upon the -paper’s inner side was an old Sotheran, Bookseller, -Piccadilly label which bore the name and address of -Miss Babraham.</p> - -<p>The piecing together of this slender chain gave June -the thing she needed most. At this signal manifestation -of what Providence could do, hope revived in her. -If only she could get to Park Lane—wherever Park -Lane might be!—to Miss Babraham.</p> - -<p>As if in answer to the half-formed wish, Maw’s -dominant voice took up the parable. “Elbert, you’d -better see this lidy as fur as Park Lane.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLVII">XLVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">E</span>lbert</span> did not welcome the prospect with open -arms. Nature had not designed him for such a -task. All the same, Maw was imaged clearly in his -mind as one whose word was law.</p> - -<p>At the best of times, Elbert’s obedience to that word -was apt to be grudging. And to-night, with murder -lurking outside in the darkness, he was full of a disgusted -reluctance at having to face such a prospect. -Even in circumstances wholly favourable to it, the -countenance of Elbert was not attractive; to June at -this moment it was very much the reverse. She felt -that its owner was not to be trusted an inch.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile her mind was growing very active. Miss -Babraham’s name and address, that magic omen, was -like an elixir; it quickened the blood, it strengthened -the soul. If only she could bear her treasure to Park -Lane all might yet be well!</p> - -<p>Urged by this spur, native wit sprang to her aid. -The first thing to be done was to get clear of present -company. She was haunted still by the likeness to -Fagin’s kitchen; but also there was a recollection of the -fact that a Tube Station was only a few yards along -the street. That was the haven wherein salvation lay.</p> - -<p>Pressing hard upon the hope, however, was the dismal -knowledge that only one penny remained in her -pocket. This sum could not take her to Park Lane, -unless that Elysium was close at hand. Alas, it was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> -not at all likely. Her ignorance of London was so great, -moreover, that she would need help to find her way -there; and in the process of obtaining it in her present -state of weakness she might be caught by new perils. -For it was only too likely that Keller was lurking outside -in the fog, waiting to spring upon her and tear -the Van Roon from her grasp at the first chance that -arose.</p> - -<p>Beset by such problems, June felt that she was between -the devil and the deep sea. Perhaps the best -thing she could do was to dash along the street to the -Tube, and then put herself in the hands of the nearest -policeman. But even to attempt such a feat was to -run a grave risk.</p> - -<p>Elbert, in the meantime, scowling and disgruntled, -was bracing himself under further pressure from Maw -to brave the perils of the night. June felt, however, -that it would be wise not to saddle herself with this -reluctant champion if it could be avoided. To this -end, she was now able to pluck up the spirit to ask what -was the best means of getting to Park Lane.</p> - -<p>Maw did not know, but Elbert when appealed to -said that she could take the Tube to Marble Arch, or -she might turn the corner at the end of the street and -pick up a bus in Tottenham Court Road.</p> - -<p>How much was the fare? Twopence, Elbert -thought. Alas, June had only a penny. She was painfully -shy about confessing this difficulty, but there was -no help for it.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you worry, Miss. Elbert is goin’ to see -you all the way.” And Maw fixed a savage eye upon -her son.</p> - -<p>Much as June would have preferred to forego the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> -services of this paladin, Maw’s ferocious glance settled -the matter finally.</p> - -<p>“And you’ll carry the pawcel for the lidy,” said -Maw, as Elbert, scowling more darkly than ever turned -up the collar of his overcoat.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLVIII">XLVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> Van Roon, at that moment, was in the hand -of Maw. And although June was on fire to -get it back, her natural faculties had the authority to -tell her that undue eagerness would be most unwise. -She must be content to await her chance, yet there -was no saying when that chance would come; for -Maw was careful to hand personally the parcel to -Elbert.</p> - -<p>Before June set out on her journey one of the girls -pressed a cup of tea from the family brew upon her. -It was lukewarm and thrice-stewed, but June was able -to drink a little and to feel the better for it. She was -in a high state of tension, all the same, when Elbert -opened the street door, her treasure under his arm, -and she followed close behind him into the darkness.</p> - -<p>Surely Keller must be out there in the fog, waiting -to attack them. Her heart beat wildly as she marched -side by side with Elbert along the street towards the -Tube. Distrust of her cavalier was great. Should he -guess the value of the thing he bore, as likely as not -he would play her a trick. But for the moment, at any -rate, this fear was merged in the sharper one of what -was concealed by the fantastic shadow shapes of that -dark thoroughfare. Less than a hundred yards away, -however, was the Tube Station. And to June’s unspeakable -relief they gained its light and publicity without -misadventure. Here, moreover, was her chance.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span> -While Elbert searched his pockets for fourpence to -purchase two tickets for Marble Arch, she insisted on -relieving him of the parcel. Once restored to her care, -she clung to it so tenaciously that the puzzled Elbert -had reluctantly to give up the hope of getting it back -again.</p> - -<p>Going down in the lift to the trains, with the surge -of fellow passengers guaranteeing a measure of safety, -June allowed herself to conclude that Elbert, after all, -might be less of a ruffian than he looked. If he had -no graces of mind or mansion, he was yet not without -a sort of rude care for her welfare. By no wish of -his own was he seeing a distressed damsel to her home, -yet the process of doing so, once he grew involved in -it, seemed to minister in some degree to a latent sense -of chivalry. At all events he had a scowl for anyone -whose elbows came too near his charge.</p> - -<p>Arriving at Marble Arch in due course, the heroic -Elbert piloted the fugitive out of the station and across -the road into Park Lane. Here, under a street lamp, -they paused a moment to examine the label on the parcel -for the number of the house they sought. Thirty-nine -was the number, and it proved to be not the least -imposing home in that plutocratic thoroughfare.</p> - -<p>Elbert accompanied June as far as its doorstep. Before -ringing the bell she said good-bye to her escort -with all the gratitude she could muster, begging him -to give her his name and address, so that she might at -least restore to him the price of her fare. Yet the -squire of dames saw no necessity for this. His scowl -was softened a little by her thanks, but his only answer -was to press the electric button and then, without a -word, to slink abruptly away into the fog.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XLIX">XLIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> felt a wild excitement, as she stood waiting -for the answer to her ring. The stress of events -had buoyed her up, but with Elbert no longer at her -side and the door of a strange house confronting her, -trolls were loose once more in her brain. A fresh -wave of panic surged through her, and again she feared -that she was going to faint.</p> - -<p>The prompt opening of the door by a gravely dignified -manservant acted as a strong restorative. June -mustered the force of will to ask if she could see Miss -Babraham. Such a request, made in a nervous and -excited manner, gave pause to the footman, who at -first could not bring himself to invite her into the large -dimly lighted hall. Finally he did so; closed the door -against the fog, and then asked her name with an air -of profound disapproval, which at any other time must -have proved highly embarrassing.</p> - -<p>“I’m Miss Gedge,” said June. “From the second-hand -shop in New Cross Street. Miss Babraham’ll -remember me.”</p> - -<p>The servant slowly repeated the fragmentary words -in a low voice of cutting emphasis. “I’m afraid,” he -said, while his eye descended to June’s shoes and up -again, “Miss Babraham will not be able to see you to-night. -However, I’ll inquire.”</p> - -<p>Superciliously the footman crossed the hall, to discuss<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span> -the matter with an unseen presence in its farthest -shadows. The conference was brief but unsatisfactory, -for a moment later the unseen presence slowly -materialized into the august shape of a butler, who -seemed at once to diminish the footman into a relative -nothingness.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you’ll let me know your business,” said -the butler, in a tone which implied that she could have -no business, at any rate with Miss Babraham, at such -an hour.</p> - -<p>June, alas, could not explain the nature of her -errand. These two men were so imposing, so unsympathetic, -so harsh, so frightening that had life itself -depended upon her answers, and in quite a special -degree she now felt that it did, she was yet unequal to -the task of making them effective.</p> - -<p>“Miss Babraham cannot see you now,” said the slow-voiced -butler, with an air of terrible finality.</p> - -<p>“But I must see her. I simply must,” wildly persisted -June.</p> - -<p>“It’s impossible to see her now,” said the butler.</p> - -<p>The words caused June to stagger back against the -wall. In answer to her tragic eyes, the butler said -reluctantly: “You had better call again some time to-morrow, -and I’ll send in your name.”</p> - -<p>“I—I must see her now,” June gasped wildly.</p> - -<p>The butler was adamant. “You can’t possibly see -her to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Why can’t I?” said June, desperately.</p> - -<p>“She is going to a ball.”</p> - -<p>The words were like a blow. A vista of the fog -outside and of herself wandering with her precious -burden all night long in it homeless, penniless, desolate,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span> -came upon her with unnerving force. “But—please!—I -must see her to-night,” she said, with a shudder of -misery.</p> - -<p>Faced by the butler’s pitiless air, June felt her slender -hope to be ebbing away. She would be turned -adrift in the night. And what would happen to her -then? She could not walk the streets till daybreak -with the Van Roon under her arm. Already she had -reached the limit of endurance. The dark haze before -her eyes bore witness to the fact that her strength was -almost gone. No matter what the attitude of the butler -towards her she must not think of quitting this place -of refuge unless she was flung out bodily, for her trials -here were nought by comparison with those awaiting -her outside.</p> - -<p>June’s defiance was very puzzling to the stern functionary -who quite plainly was at a loss how to deal -with it. But in the midst of these uncertainties the -problem was unexpectedly solved for him. A glamour -of white satin, jewels and fur appeared on the broad -staircase. Miss Babraham descended slowly.</p> - -<p>Once more was June upheld by a sense of Providence. -Hope flickered again, a painful, fluctuating gleam. She -sprang forward to intercept this vision of pure beauty, -wildly calling the name “Miss Babraham! Miss Babraham!”</p> - -<p>The dazzling creature was startled out of her glowing -self-possession: “Why, who <i>are</i> you?” she cried.</p> - -<p>In a gush of strange words, June strove to make -clear that she was the girl from the antique shop in -New Cross Street, and that her uncle, its proprietor, -was a very wicked old man who was trying to steal a -valuable picture that had been given to her. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span> -pressed the Van Roon upon the astonished Miss Babraham -and besought her to take care of it.</p> - -<p>After that, June had only a very dim idea of what -happened. She found herself in a sort of anteroom -without knowing how she got there, with faces of a -surprised curiosity around her. Foremost of these was -the lovely Miss Babraham, a thing of sheer beauty in -her ball-dress, who asked questions to which June could -only give confused replies, and issued orders that she -was not able to follow.</p> - -<p>Everything began to grow more and more like a -wild and terrible dream. Other people appeared on the -scene, among whom June was just able to recognize the -tall form of Sir Arthur Babraham. By then, however -she no longer knew what she was doing or saying, for -deep blanks were invading her consciousness; even the -treasure in which her very soul was merged had somehow -slipped from her mental grasp, and like everything -else had ceased to have significance.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="L">L</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>t</span> eleven o’clock the next morning, Sir Arthur -Babraham, looking worried and distrait, was -pretending to read the “Times.” If ever a man could -be said to have “been born with a silver spoon in his -mouth” it was this soft-voiced, easy-mannered, kindly -gentleman. The rubs of a hard world had hardly -touched his unflawed surfaces. He sat on committees, -it was true, and played Providence at third or fourth -hand to less happily situated mortals; yet scarcely, if -at all, had he been brought face to face with the stark -realities of life.</p> - -<p>It is never too late, however, for some new thing -to occur. The previous evening an experience had -happened to this worthy man; and he could not rid -his mind of the fact that it was disconcerting. On a -table at his elbow was a picture without a frame, and -more than once his eyes strayed from the newspaper -to this object, which at a first glance was so insignificant, -and yet as if cursed with an “obi” it had the -power to dominate him completely.</p> - -<p>In the midst of this preoccupation, Laura Babraham -entered the room. She had returned late from -the dance, and this was her first appearance that morning. -Hardly had she saluted her father when her eye -also fell on the picture, and a look of deep anxiety -came into her eyes.</p> - -<p>“Have you heard anything from the hospital?” she -asked eagerly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span></p> - -<p>“I rang them up half an hour ago,” said Sir Arthur. -“The girl is very ill indeed. I gather from the tone of -the person with whom I talked that the case is pretty -serious.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Laura Babraham, in a low voice. “One -felt sure of that. Never again do I want to see a -human creature in the state that poor thing was in last -night. I’ve been haunted by her ever since.”</p> - -<p>“Pretty bad, I must say.” Sir Arthur plucked -sharply at his moustache. “According to the Hospital, -she’s been knocked about and generally ill-used. There -are marks on her throat, and they want my opinion -as to whether they should communicate with the -police.”</p> - -<p>“What do you advise, papa?” said Laura, with a -growing concern.</p> - -<p>“One doesn’t know what to advise.” Sir Arthur’s -moustache continued to receive harsh treatment. “We -are faced with rather a problem, it seems to me.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that it will be a matter for the police -if she doesn’t get better?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, certainly that. And it may be a matter for -the police if she does get better.”</p> - -<p>Laura Babraham agreed; yet even then she did not -see the problem in its full complexity. Sir Arthur, -taking the first step towards her enlightenment, pointed -to the Van Roon: “My dear, beyond any doubt that -is a most precious thing. And, ignoring for the moment -the state in which this young woman turned up -last night, the question we have to ask ourselves is: -What is she doing with it at all? And why was she -ranging the streets alone, in the fog, at that hour?”</p> - -<p>“From what one gathered,” said Laura, “the picture<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span> -is hers, and her uncle, the old curio man in New Cross -Street, with whom she lives, is determined to steal it.”</p> - -<p>“Quite. That’s her story, as far as one can get -at it. But I put it to you, isn’t it far more likely—prima -facie at any rate—that the girl is trying to steal -it from the old dealer?”</p> - -<p>“I believe the poor thing is speaking the truth,” said -Woman in the person of Miss Laura Babraham.</p> - -<p>“You mean, my dear,” said her logical parent, with -a sad little smile, “that you <i>hope</i> she is speaking the -truth. With all my heart I hope so, too, even if it -proves this old man—Gedge you say his name is—to be -a terrible scoundrel. One of them certainly is not -playing straight—but prima facie, as I say—if we call -in the police, it is almost certain that it is this wretched -girl who will find herself in prison.”</p> - -<p>“There I don’t agree, papa,” said Woman staunchly. -“The poor thing says that William the assistant -gave her the picture; and in all the dealings I have had -with William in the course of the past year, he has -been honesty itself.”</p> - -<p>Her father shook his head gently. “All very well, -but Master William is the part of the story I like least. -Is it probable, in the first place, that a young man who -almost certainly has no money of his own, would be -able to get possession of such a thing; and, again, assuming -him to be clever enough to do so, is he going to -be such a fool as to give it away to this girl? Let us -look all the facts in the face. To my mind, the more -one thinks of it the more inevitable the plain solution -is.”</p> - -<p>“I’m absolutely convinced that William, at any rate, -is honest.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span></p> - -<p>Sir Arthur frowned and opened his cigar case. “And -I for my part am convinced,” he said, with a sigh as -he cut off the end of a Corona, “that our friend -William is a cunning scoundrel, who has been deep -enough to get this young woman to do the dirty work -and run all the risks, because he must know as well as -anybody that a great deal of money is at stake.”</p> - -<p>Laura Babraham had a considerable respect for her -father’s judgment, yet she knew the value of her own. -She did not think it was possible to be so deceived; -her dealings with William had left her with the highest -regard for his straightforwardness; if he proved to -be the despicable creature Sir Arthur’s fancy painted -him, never again would she be able to hold an opinion -about anyone. Yet her father’s analysis of the case, -as it presented itself to her clear mind, left her on the -horns of a dilemma. Either this young man was a -fool, or he was a rogue. Beset by two evils, she chose -without hesitation that which to the feminine mind -appeared the less.</p> - -<p>“He’s always struck one as rather simple in some -ways and too much under the thumb of the old dealer, -yet he’s really very clever.”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur drew mental energy from his Corona. -“Not clever enough to keep honest, my dear.”</p> - -<p>“Please don’t prejudge him. That wicked old man -is at the back of all.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that is just what we have now to find out.”</p> - -<p>Laura assented; yet then arose the question as to -the means by which the truth could be won. It was -likely to resolve itself into an affair of William’s word -against the word of his master. Whoever could tell -the more plausible tale would be believed; and William’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span> -friend saw from the outset that Circumstance -had already weighted the scales heavily against him. -On the face of it, the story as disclosed by the poor -girl who was now in the Hospital, was frankly incredible.</p> - -<p>Recollection of the pitiful scene of the previous night -brought to Laura Babraham’s mind her own urgent -duty in the matter. The girl had begged her not on any -account to give up the picture. So long as sense and -coherence remained the unlucky creature had declared -it to be her own lawful property. Laura had solemnly -promised to see justice done, and it behooved her now -to be as good as her word.</p> - -<p>“I suppose, papa, you have telephoned already to -Mr. Gedge?”</p> - -<p>“The Hospital has, I believe,” said Sir Arthur. “I -particularly asked them to do so. The old fellow must -be very anxious about the girl, and perhaps even more -anxious about his Van Roon.”</p> - -<p>“Please don’t say ‘his Van Roon’ before he’s proved -the ownership.”</p> - -<p>“That won’t be difficult, I fear.”</p> - -<p>“We must make it as difficult for him as we can,” -said the tenacious Laura.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur shook his head. As a man of the world, -he had but scant hope that the mystery would be cleared -up in the way Laura desired.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LI">LI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span>t</span> Number Forty-six, New Cross Street, the bottom -seemed to have fallen out of the world. -June’s flight with the picture, as soon as it became -known to William, caused him not only intense pain, -but also deep concern. The news was a tragic shock -for which he was quite unprepared; and the behaviour -of his master seemed, if possible, to make it worse. -The old man was distraught. Now that it was no -longer necessary to mask his intentions, prudence -slipped from him like a veil. On his return, baffled -and furious, from Victoria he at once accused William -of being in the plot against him.</p> - -<p>William, hurt and astonished, was at a loss. He did -not know all that had happened; he had only the broad -facts to go upon that June had run off with the picture -at an instant’s notice, without a word as to her plans -and leaving no address; and the bitter reproaches of -his master appeared to him the outpourings of a mind -not quite sane.</p> - -<p>Such indeed they were. The truth was that upon -one subject S. Gedge Antiques was a little unhinged. -The love of money, an infirmity which had crept upon -him year by year had begun to affect reason itself; -and now that, as it seemed, he had thrown away, by -his own carelessness, the one really big prize of his -career, this dark fact came out.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span></p> - -<p>William, who found it very difficult indeed to think -ill of anyone, could only accept the broad fact that the -picture had meant even more to the old man than he had -supposed; therefore this good fellow was inclined to -pity his master. It was not for a mind such as his, -which took things on trust, to fill in the details of a -tragic episode. He did not look for the wherefore and -the why, yet he was very deeply grieved by what had -occurred.</p> - -<p>The old man could not rid his brain of the illusion -that William had connived with June. Under the lash -of an unreasoning rage he did not pause to consider -the improbability of this, nor did he try to attain a -broad view of the whole matter; it was almost as if his -resentment, craving an outlet, must wreak itself upon -the thing near at hand. Yet in the course of a few -hours this dangerous obsession was to bring its own -nemesis.</p> - -<p>About twelve o’clock the next day, M. Duponnet -came to fetch the picture. It had been arranged that -Mr. Gedge should present the cheque at the Bank in the -meantime, and if duly approved, as there was every -reason to expect that it would be, the Van Roon should -be handed over at once.</p> - -<p>To the Frenchman’s surprise, he was now greeted by -his own cheque, backed by a livid countenance of tragic -exasperation. The treasure had been stolen.</p> - -<p>“Stolen!”</p> - -<p>The face of S. Gedge Antiques forbade all scepticism.</p> - -<p>“When? By whom?”</p> - -<p>Mussewer Duponny might well ask by whom! It -had been stolen by the girl who did the housework—the -old man could not bring himself, in such circumstances,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span> -to speak of her as his niece—and he had not -the least doubt in his own mind that the youth who -helped him in the business who, at that moment, was -in the next room polishing chairs, had put her wise in -the matter, and was standing in with her.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, still in a frenzy of frustration, -was hardly able to realize the gravity of this charge. -Had he been in full command of himself, he must have -weighed such a statement very carefully indeed before -it was made. But remorselessly driven by his greed, -he threw discretion to the wind.</p> - -<p>The disgruntled purchaser was quick to seize upon -the accusation. To his mind, at least, its import was -clear. Even if the seller did not perceive its full implication, -the buyer of the Van Roon had no difficulty -in doing so.</p> - -<p>“We must call in ze police, hein?”</p> - -<p>The words brought the old man up short. He proceeded -to take his bearings; to find out, as well as his -rage would let him, just where he stood in the matter. -Certainly the police did not appeal to him at all. It -was not a case for publicity, because the picture was -not his: that was to say, having now reached a point -where the law of <i>meum</i> and <i>tuum</i> had become curiously -involved, it might prove exceedingly difficult and -even more inconvenient to establish a title to the Van -Roon. No, he preferred to do without the police.</p> - -<p>M. Duponnet, however, unfettered by a sense of restraint, -argued volubly that the police be called in. The -assistant was guilty or he was not guilty; and in any -event it would surely be wise to enlist the help of those -who knew best how to deal with thieves. Nothing -could have exceeded the buyer’s conviction that this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span> -should be done, yet to his chagrin he quite failed to -communicate it to S. Gedge Antiques.</p> - -<p>From that moment, a suspicion began to grow up -in the Frenchman’s mind that the seller was not laying -all his cards on the table. Could it be that he was telling -a cock and bull story? According to Mr. Thornton, -who was acting as a go-between, this old man had long -had the name of a shifty customer. Undoubtedly he -looked one this morning. Jules Duponnet had seldom -seen a frontispiece he liked less; and the theory now -gained a footing in his mind that the old fox wanted to -go back on his bargain.</p> - -<p>There were two drawbacks, all the same, to M. -Duponnet’s theory. In the first place, as no money -had yet changed hands, it would be quite easy for S. -Gedge Antiques to undo the bargain by a straightforward -means; and further, beyond any shadow of doubt, -the old man was horribly upset by his loss.</p> - -<p>“Let us go to ze bureau, Meester Gedge,” he said, as -conviction renewed itself in the light of these facts.</p> - -<p>“No, no, no,” cried the old man, whose brain, capable -at times of a surprising vigour, was now furiously -at work.</p> - -<p>“But why not?”</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques did not reply immediately, but -at last a dark light broke over the vulpine face. “Why -not, Mussewer Duponny? I’ll tell you. Because I -think there may be a better way of dealing with that -damned young scoundrel yonder.” William’s master -pointed towards the inner room. “Happen the police’ll -need all sorts of information we don’t want to give -them; and my experience is, Mussewer, their methods -are slow and clumsy, and out of date. They may take<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span> -weeks over this job, and long before they are through -with it, the picture will be in America.”</p> - -<p>“You may be right, Meester Gedge. But where’s -the ’arm in seeing what they can do?”</p> - -<p>With the air of one whose faculties have been braced -by a mental tonic, the old man shook his head decisively. -“Mussewer Duponny,” he said, in a slow voice -which gave weight and value to each word, “I’m thinking -with a little help from yourself and Mr. Thornton I -can deal with this—this scoundrel much better than -the police.”</p> - -<p>“At your sairvice, Meester Gedge,” said Jules Duponnet, -with a dry smile. He could not have been the -man he was, had he remained insensitive to the depth -of cunning which now transfigured the face of the old -dealer. “But for Meester Thornton of course I cannot -spick.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t, of course,” said the old fox, briskly. -“But we’ll go right now, and have a word with Mr. -Thornton on the subject.”</p> - -<p>Like one in whom a change sudden and mysterious -has been wrought, S. Gedge Antiques stepped through -the house door into the passage, took his hat and coat -from the peg, and his heavy knotted walking stick out -of the rickety umbrella stand, put his head into the -room next door and said, in a harsh tone to the polisher -of chairs, “Boy, I’m going along as far as Mr. Thornton’s, -so you’d better keep an eye on the shop.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LII">LII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>he</span> old man, contrary to his practice, was a little -late for the midday meal, and he had a poor -appetite for it. As he tried to eat the cold mutton and -the potato William had baked for him, his thoughts -seemed a long way from his plate. William himself, -who was too full of trouble to give much attention to -food, now saw that the old man’s earlier ferocity, -which had hurt him even more than it had puzzled -him, had yielded to a depth of melancholy that was -hardly less disturbing. But the master’s manner, on -his return from the visit to Mr. Thornton, was far -more in accordance with his nature, at least as William -understood that nature; indeed, his voice had recaptured -the note of pathos which seemed natural to it -whenever the Van Roon was mentioned.</p> - -<p>“I ought to tell you, boy,” he said, in a husky tone, -towards the end of the meal, “that it looks as if there’ll -be the dickens to pay over this job. A French detective -from Paris has been here, and he’s coming again this -afternoon to have a word with you.”</p> - -<p>“With me, sir?”</p> - -<p>The old man, whose eyes were furtively devouring -the face of William, was quick to observe its startled -look. “Yes, boy, you’re the one he wants to see. The -Loov authorities have managed to get wind of this -Van Roon of ours, and they say it’s the feller they’ve -been looking for since 1898.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span></p> - -<p>Easy to gull William in some respects was, yet, he -could not help thinking that the French Government -took a little too much for granted.</p> - -<p>“I think so, too—but there it is,” said the old man. -“They have to prove the Van Roon is theirs, and that -won’t be easy, as I told the detective this morning. But -I understand that the question of identity turns upon -certain marks, as well as upon similarity of subject.”</p> - -<p>William allowed that the subject had an undoubted -similarity with that of the picture stolen from the -Louvre, but then, as he explained, every known Van -Roon had a strong family likeness. In size they varied -little, and they always depicted trees, water, clouds, -and in some cases a windmill.</p> - -<p>“Ours, I believe, had no windmill.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, only water and trees, and a wonderful bit -of cloud.”</p> - -<p>“I understand,” said the old man mournfully, “that -the one that was stolen from the Loov had no windmill.”</p> - -<p>“The other one in the Louvre has no windmill; there -are two at Amsterdam that have no windmill; and -there’s one at The Hague, I believe, that hasn’t a windmill.”</p> - -<p>“May be. These are all points in our favour. But, -as I say, the whole question will turn upon certain -identification marks, and this French detective is coming -here this afternoon to examine it. So it seems to -me that the best thing you can do is to go off at once, -and get it back from that hussy, because you can take -it from me, boy, that we are going to be held responsible -for the picture’s safety by the French police; and -if when the detective calls again all we have to say is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span> -that it has vanished like magic, and we are unable to -produce it, we may easily find ourselves in the lock-up.”</p> - -<p>This speech, worded with care and uttered with -weight, had the effect of increasing William’s distress. -Underlying it was the clear assumption that he was in -league with June, and this was intolerable to him, less -because of her strangely misguided action, than for the -reason that the master to whom he had been so long -devoted found it impossible to believe his word.</p> - -<p>“If only I knew where Miss June was, sir—” he said, -miserably.</p> - -<p>The old man, with the fragment of caution still left -to him, was able to refrain from giving William the lie. -It wasn’t easy to forbear, since he was quite unable -to accept the open and palpable fact that his assistant -was in complete ignorance of June’s whereabouts. So -true it is that the gods first tamper with the reason of -those whom they would destroy!</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques was in the toils of a powerful -and dangerous obsession. He saw William in terms -of himself; indeed, he was overtaken by the nemesis -which dogs the crooked mind. For the old man was -now incapable of seeing things as they were; the -monstrous shadow of his own wickedness and folly -enshrouded others like a pall. One so shrewd as William’s -master, who had had such opportunities, moreover, -of gauging the young man’s worth, should have -been the last person in the world to hold him guilty -of this elaborate and futile deceit; but the old man was -in thrall to the Frankenstein his own evil thoughts had -created.</p> - -<p>He was sure that William was lying. Just as in the -first instance the young man had given the picture to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span> -“the hussy”, he was now in collusion with her in an -audacious attempt to dispose of it. S. Gedge Antiques -was not in a frame of mind to sift, to analyze, to ask -questions; it seemed natural and convenient to embrace -such a theory and, urged by the demon within, he was -now building blindly upon it.</p> - -<p>About three o’clock William was engaged in the lumber -room putting derelict pieces of furniture to rights, -when his master came with a long and serious face, and -said that the French detective wanted to see him. William -put on his coat and followed the old man into the -shop where he found two persons awaiting him. With -only one of these was William acquainted. Mr. Thornton -was well known to him by sight, but he had not seen -before the French dealer, M. Duponnet.</p> - -<p>With a nice sense of drama on the part of S. Gedge -Antiques the Frenchman was now made known to -William as M. Duplay of the Paris police. Midway -between a snuffle and a groan, the old man, raising his -eyes in the direction of heaven, besought his assistant to -tell Mussewer all that he knew as to the picture’s whereabouts.</p> - -<p>William, alas, knew no more than his master; and he -found no difficulty in saying so. He was not believed, -since the old man had had no scruple in the blackening -of his character, and the Frenchman, with a skilful assumption -of the manner of an official, which the others -solemnly played up to, proceeded to threaten the assistant -with the terrors of the law.</p> - -<p>The French Government was convinced from the -description, which had been given of the Van Roon by -those who had seen it, that there could be little doubt -it was their long missing property. Such being the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span> -case, the police were only willing to allow the young -man another twenty-four hours in which to produce it -for examination. If he failed to do that within the -time specified, a warrant would be applied for, and he -might find himself in prison.</p> - -<p>In the face of this intimidation, William stuck to -his story. He knew no more than the dead where the -picture was; Miss June, to whom it had been given, -had suddenly disappeared with it the previous night.</p> - -<p>“Who is Mees June?” said the Frenchman sharply.</p> - -<p>Miss June was the niece of Mr. Gedge.</p> - -<p>“And he gave the picture to her?” The disappointed -buyer, who felt that his suspicions in the matter -were being confirmed, looked keenly from the young -man to the old.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said William, with the utmost simplicity. -“I gave it to her myself.”</p> - -<p>There was a pause, in which astonishment played its -part, and then Mr. Thornton gravely interposed: “How -do you mean you gave her the picture? It isn’t yours -to give. It is the property of your master.”</p> - -<p>“You are forgetting, boy,” said the old man in a -voice in which oil and vinegar were wonderfully mingled, -“that I would not allow my niece to have such -a valuable thing, and that you then made it over to me -to dispose of to the best advantage.”</p> - -<p>“I gave it to Miss June,” persisted the young man -simply, “but I told her that, as you had set your heart -upon it, I hoped very much she would let you have it.”</p> - -<p>While this odd conversation went on, the two dealers -exchanged glances. Both were greatly puzzled. They -were as one in being a little suspicious of the absolute -bona fides of S. Gedge Antiques. Either this was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span> -very clumsy method of establishing them, or there was -more behind the picture’s disappearance than met the -eye.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, whose brain was working at -high pressure, was not slow to read their minds. He -closed the discussion with a brevity which yet was not -lacking altogether in persuasion. “There’s no time, -boy, to go into all that,” he said. “The girl’s gone off -with the picture, and wherever she’s to be found, you -must go right away, and get it back from her, and -bring it here to me, or we may both find ourselves in -the lock-up. That is so, Mussewer Duplay—what?” -And with a lively gesture the old fox turned to the -Frenchman.</p> - -<p>Puzzled that gentleman certainly was, yet he heartily -agreed. If the Van Roon was not produced within the -next four and twenty hours, a warrant would be issued.</p> - -<p>“Where is the hussy? That’s what we want to -know,” said the old man. “Tell us what has become -of her.”</p> - -<p>Frankly William did not know. He was not believed, -at any rate, by his master who by now was deeper -than ever in the coil of his own crookedness. As for -the two dealers who, between them, had contrived, as -they thought, to acquire one of the world’s treasures -for an absurd sum, they did not know what to think. -The comedy they were performing at the instance of -S. Gedge Antiques was designed to bemuse the assistant, -yet both men had an uneasy feeling at the -back of their minds that master and man were engaged -in a piece of flapdoodle for their private benefit. If so, -the old man was a fool as well as a rogue, and the -young one was a rogue as well as a fool. Scant was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span> -the comfort to be got out of this reflection. They -seemed very far from the goal on which their hearts -were set; and impatience of such methods was just -beginning to show itself in the bearing of Messrs. -Duponnet and Thornton when the affair took a new -and remarkable turn.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIII">LIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">A</span> tall</span> man, quietly dressed, yet wearing a silk -hat and an eyeglass, with a pleasant air of authority, -came into the shop. For a moment he stood by -the door, a rather cool gazed fixed upon the group of -four; and then, an odd mingling of alertness and caution -in his manner, he advanced to the proprietor.</p> - -<p>“May I have a word with you,” said the visitor, -with an air of apology for the benefit of the others -whom he included in a smile which expressed little.</p> - -<p>“Certainly you may, Sir Arthur,” said S. Gedge -Antiques, an odd change coming into his tone. Taken -by surprise, the old man had been slow to reckon up -the situation. He was not able to detach himself from -the group, and lead the rather unwelcome visitor out -of earshot before that gentleman had divulged the business -which had brought him there.</p> - -<p>“You must be anxious about your niece, Mr. Gedge,” -said Sir Arthur, who saw no need for secrecy.</p> - -<p>The old man was very anxious indeed.</p> - -<p>“You’ve heard from the Hospital, of course?”</p> - -<p>It seemed that the old man had heard nothing; and -Sir Arthur was proceeding to deplore this oversight -on the part of those whom he had asked over the telephone -to communicate with Number Forty-six, New -Cross Street, when William, whose ear had caught the -sinister word ‘Hospital’ could no longer restrain a -painful curiosity.</p> - -<p>The young man sprang forward with clasped hands<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span> -and shining eyes. “Oh, sir, what has happened to -Miss June?” he cried. “Tell me—please!”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur, his mission concrete in his mind, brought -a steady eye to bear upon the young man before he -slowly replied: “She has had a mental breakdown, and -we were able to arrange for her to be taken late last -night to St. Jude’s Hospital.” He then turned to the -old man, who had either grasped the news more slowly, -or was less affected by it, and said: “It’s a case for -careful treatment, in the opinion of the doctor who saw -her soon after she arrived at my house, and upon -whose advice she was sent to the Hospital. I am very -sorry now that I did not communicate with you -myself!”</p> - -<p>It was the young man, however, as Sir Arthur did -not fail to notice, who seemed really to be troubled by -what had befallen this unfortunate girl. S. Gedge -Antiques, for his part, soon shewed that his inmost -thoughts were centered upon something else.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell me, sir,” he said, with an excitement -he did not try to conceal, “whether the picture she -took away with her is quite safe?”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur looked hard at the old man before he -answered: “Mr. Gedge, the picture is perfectly safe.”</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” The exclamation of S. Gedge Antiques -was not the less heartfelt for being involuntary.</p> - -<p>“And Miss June?” interposed William huskily. “Is -she?... Is she...?” He was too upset to frame -his question.</p> - -<p>“She is very ill indeed, I’m afraid,” said Sir Arthur, -in a kind tone, “but she is in the best possible hands. -Anything that can be done for her will be done—I am -sure you can count upon that.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span></p> - -<p>“Is she going to die?”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur shook his head. “When I last rang up -the Hospital, I asked that question, but they will not -give an opinion. They prefer not to go beyond the -fact that she is critically ill.”</p> - -<p>Tears gathered slowly in William’s eyes. Conscience -was pricking him sharply. Had he not brought -this unlucky picture into the house, such a terrible thing -would not have occurred.</p> - -<p>William’s brief talk with the visitor, whose unheralded -appearance upon the scene was by no means -welcome to S. Gedge Antiques, gave his master a much -needed opportunity to decide upon the course of action. -The two dealers knew now that the Van Roon was safe, -but as far as William and Sir Arthur were concerned, -the situation was full of complexity. Much cunning -would be needed to smooth out the tangle; and to this -end, as the old man promptly realized, the first thing -to be done was to induce the Frenchman and his agent -to quit the shop.</p> - -<p>“You hear, Mussewer, that the picture is safe,” he -said to the buyer, soapily. “I will go at once and get -it from this gentleman. If you will come in again -to-morrow morning, it shall be ready for you.”</p> - -<p>M. Duponnet seemed inclined to await further developments, -but S. Gedge Antiques had no scruples -about dismissing his fellow conspirators. Without -more ado, he ushered both dealers gently but firmly to -the door. This new turn in the game had made -them keenly curious to learn more of the affair, yet -they realized that they were on thin ice themselves, -and the peremptory manner of S. Gedge Antiques enforced -that view. “To-morrow morning, gentlemen—come<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span> -and see me then!” he said, opening the shop door -determinedly, and waiting for these inconvenient visitors -to pass out.</p> - -<p>This task accomplished, the old man had to deal with -one more delicate. He had to remove from the minds -of William and Sir Arthur Babraham all suspicion in -regard to himself. He came to them with his most -sanctimonious air: “I can’t tell you, sir,” he assured -Sir Arthur, “what a relief it is to know that my niece -is in good hands. But I am afraid she is a very wicked -girl.” Then he turned abruptly to William, and said -in a low tone that he wished to have a private conversation -with Sir Arthur.</p> - -<p>For once, however, the young man shewed less than -his usual docility. He was most eager to learn all -that had happened to June, and to gain a clue, if possible, -to her strange conduct; besides the painful change -in his master now filled him with distrust.</p> - -<p>The shrewd judge of the world and its ways upon -whom the duty had fallen of holding the balance true -was quick to note the reluctance of the younger man; -and even if the nature of the case would compel him -in the end to take the word of the proprietor against -that of the servant, he was influenced already, in spite -of himself, by that open simplicity which had had such -an effect upon his daughter.</p> - -<p>“Is there anything, Mr. Gedge, we have to say to one -another, which this young man may not hear?” said -Sir Arthur quietly, and then, as the old dealer did not -immediately reply, he added coolly, “I think not.” -Turning to William he said: “Please stay with us. -There are one or two questions I have to put which I -hope you will be good enough to answer.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span></p> - -<p>This did not suit the book of S. Gedge Antiques, -but he decided to play a bold game. “I’m very much -obliged to you for your kindness in taking care of the -picture,” he said, with a smirk to his visitor. “As you -know, it is a thing of great value. Had anything happened -to it, the loss would have been terrible. Perhaps -you will allow me to go at once and fetch it, for I don’t -mind telling you, sir, that until I get it back again my -mind will not be easy.”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur looked narrowly at the face of unpleasant -cunning before him, and then he said very quietly: -“I am sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Gedge, that your -niece claims the picture as her property.”</p> - -<p>The old man was prepared for a development -which he had been able to foresee. “I am afraid she -is a very wicked girl,” he said, in the tone of a known -good man whose feelings are deeply wounded. “I ask -you, sir, is it likely that a thing of such immense value -would belong to her?”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur had to agree that it was not, yet remembering -his daughter’s deep conviction on the subject, -he was careful to assert June’s claim.</p> - -<p>“Moonshine, I assure you, sir.”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur, however, did not regard this as conclusive. -In the light of what had happened he felt -it to be his duty to seek a clear proof of the picture’s -ownership; therefore he now turned to William and -told him that the girl in the Hospital declared that he -had given her the Van Roon. A plain statement of fact -was demanded, and in the face of so direct an appeal -the young man did not hesitate to give one. Originally -the picture was his property, but a week ago he had -given it to his master’s niece.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span></p> - -<p>“What have you to say to that, Mr. Gedge?” asked -Sir Arthur.</p> - -<p>The heart of William seemed to miss a beat while he -waited painfully for the answer to this question. To -one of his primitive nature, his whole life, past, present -and future seemed to turn upon the old man’s next -words; and a kind of slow agony overcame him, as he -realized what these words were in all their cynical -wickedness.</p> - -<p>“The Van Roon is mine, sir,” said S. Gedge Antiques, -in a voice, strong, definite and calm. “It was -bought with my money.”</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur fixed upon the stupefied William an interrogating -eye. In his own mind he felt sure that -this must be the fact of the matter, yet it was hard to -believe that a young man who seemed to be openness -itself was deliberately lying. “What do <i>you</i> say?” he -asked gently.</p> - -<p>William was too shocked to say anything. His -master took a full advantage of the pause which followed. -“Come, boy,” he said, in a tone of kindly -expostulation, “you know as well as I do that you were -given the money to buy a few things down in Suffolk -in the ordinary way of business on your week’s holiday -and that this little thing was one of your purchases.”</p> - -<p>Sadly the young man shook his head. The cold -falsehood was heavier upon him than a blow from the -old man’s fist would have been, yet it roused him to the -point of blunt denial. Quite simply he set forth the -true facts.</p> - -<p>“The master gave me twenty pounds to attend a sale -by auction at Loseby Grange, Saxmundham, and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span> -bought things to the value of twenty pounds one and -ninepence.”</p> - -<p>In a voice which was a nice mingling of humour and -pathos the old man interposed. “This picture, which -I admit was bought for a song as the saying is, was -among them.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said William, “I bought this picture with -my own money from an old woman in a shop at -Crowdham Market.”</p> - -<p>So much for the issue, which now was quite clearly -defined. Sir Arthur, however, could only regret that -the supremely difficult task of keeping the scales of justice -true had developed upon him.</p> - -<p>“What did you pay for the picture, may I ask?”</p> - -<p>“Five shillings,” said William, unhesitatingly.</p> - -<p>“Five shillings!”</p> - -<p>“It was as black as night when I bought it, sir, with -a still life, which must have been at least two hundred -years old daubed over it.”</p> - -<p>“Black enough, I allow,” said the old man, “but it -can’t alter the fact that the picture’s mine.”</p> - -<p>“Let me be quite clear on one point,” said Sir Arthur. -“You maintain, Mr. Gedge, that the picture was bought -at a sale with your money, and this young man declares -it was bought at a shop with his.”</p> - -<p>“That is so,” said the old man.</p> - -<p>“Do you happen to have kept a list of the things that -were bought at the sale?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, I’m afraid I haven’t one.”</p> - -<p>Here, however, the old man’s memory was at fault, -and this material fact William went on to prove. Under -the counter was a file containing a mass of receipted -bills, and from among these the young man was able<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span> -to produce a document which told heavily in his favour. -It was a list of his purchases at Loseby Grange, -carefully written out, with the sum paid opposite each -item, and at the foot of it, immediately beneath the -figures “£20.1.9” was written in a rather shaky but -businesslike hand, “Audited and found correct. S. -Gedge.”</p> - -<p>This lucky discovery went some way towards establishing -William’s case. The paper contained no mention -of a picture, other than a print after P. Bartolozzi, -which William took at once from the shop window. -Finished dissembler as he was, the old man could not -conceal the fact that he was shaken, but like a desperate -gambler with a fortune at stake, he hastily changed his -tactics. He began now to pooh-pooh the receipt, and -declared that even if his unfortunate memory had -played him a trick as to where the picture had been -actually bought, it did not affect the contention that it -had been purchased with his money.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur Babraham, in his search for the truth, -could not help contrasting the bearing of the claimants. -Avarice was engraved deeply upon the yellow parchment -countenance of S. Gedge Antiques, whereas so -open was the face of William that it went against the -grain to accuse its owner of baseness. In spite, of this, -however, Sir Arthur could not help asking himself -how it had come about that a young man so poor, who -was yet clever enough to pick up such a treasure for a -few shillings had parted with it so lightly.</p> - -<p>Upon the answer to that question he felt much -would depend.</p> - -<p>“I suppose when you gave this picture away you did -not realize its great value?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span></p> - -<p>“As a matter of fact, sir, I hardly thought about it -at all in that way. I only saw that it was a very lovely -thing, and Miss June saw that it was a very lovely -thing. She admired it so much that she begged me to -let her buy it.”</p> - -<p>“Did you take her money?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir. She accepted it as a gift. I asked her not -to let us think of it as money.”</p> - -<p>“Could you afford to do that?” Involuntarily the -questioner looked at the young man’s threadbare coat -and shabby trousers, and at once decided that he, of -all people, certainly could not.</p> - -<p>William’s answer, accompanied by a baffling smile, -gave pause to the man of the world. “I hope, sir, I -shall always afford the luxury of not setting a price -on beauty.”</p> - -<p>The dark saying brought a frown to the face of Mr. -Worldly Wiseman, who said in his slow voice: “But -surely you would not give away a Van Roon to the -first person who asks for it?”</p> - -<p>“Why not, sir—if you happen to—to——”</p> - -<p>“If you happen to what?”</p> - -<p>“To like the person.”</p> - -<p>Although the young man blushed when he made this -confession, such an ingenuousness did his cause no -harm. Sir Arthur Babraham, all the same, was puzzled -more than a little by such an attitude of mind. This -indifference to money was almost uncanny; and yet -as he compared the face of the assistant with that of the -master, the difference was tragic. One suffused with -the light that never was on sea or land, the other dark -as the image of Baal whose shadow was cast half across -the shop.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIV">LIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">D</span>oubt</span> was melting in the mind of Sir Arthur -Babraham. He was coming now to a perception -of the truth. To one who lived in the world, -who saw men and things at an obtuse angle, the story -as told by this young man verged upon the incredible -and yet he felt sure it was true. The fellow was an -Original, an unkind critic might even say that he was -a trifle “cracked,” but if this visionary who adored -beauty for its own sake could enact such a piece of -deceit it would be unwise ever to trust one’s judgment -again in regard to one’s fellow creatures. And the -reverse of the medal was shewn just as plainly in the -face of the old dealer.</p> - -<p>Man of affairs as Sir Arthur was, however, he knew -better than to take a hasty decision upon what, after -all, might prove to be wrong premises. It was his -clear duty to see justice done in a strange matter, but -he would leave to others the task of enforcing it. Thus -when the old man renewed his demand to be allowed to -go at once to Park Lane and get the picture, he was -met by a refusal which if very polite was also final.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Gedge, my daughter holds this picture in trust -for your niece, who I am informed by the Hospital, has -been most cruelly used by somebody. She accepts—we -both accept—the story told by your niece as to how -in the first instance she came to possess this most valuable<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span> -thing, which by the way this young man has been -able to confirm. If you persist in trying to establish -your claim I am afraid you must apply to the law.”</p> - -<p>This speech, delivered with judicial weight, was a -bomb-shell. With a gasp the old man realized that the -game was up; yet as soon as the first shock had passed -he could hardly mask his fury. By his own folly the -chance of a lifetime had been thrown away.</p> - -<p>As he was now to find, he was bereft of more than -the Van Roon. He had lost the trust and affection of -William. In the first agony of defeat, S. Gedge Antiques -was far from realizing what the fact would mean, -but it was brought home to him poignantly two days -later.</p> - -<p>William’s first act, when Sir Arthur had left the -shop, was to go to the Hospital. Here he was received -by a member of its staff who told him that the -patient was too ill to see anyone, and that even if she -recovered, her mind might be permanently affected. -The doctor who discussed the case with the young man -allowed himself this frankness, because he was very -anxious for light to be thrown on it. The girl had -been cruelly knocked about, there were heavy bruises -on her body and marks on her throat which suggested -that she had had to fight for her life; and this was borne -out by the delirium through which she was passing. In -the main it seemed to be inspired by terror of a man -whom she spoke of continually as Uncle Si.</p> - -<p>The visitor was questioned closely as to the identity -of the mysterious Uncle Si. He was pressed to say all -that he knew about him, for the Hospital had to consider -whether this was not a matter for the police.</p> - -<p>William was shocked and rather terrified by the turn<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span> -things had taken. The scales had been torn from his -eyes with a force that left him bewildered. He had -trusted his master in the way he trusted all the world, -and now disillusion had come in a series of flashes -which left him half blind, he felt life could never be -the same. His own world of the higher reality was -after all no more than the paradise of a fool. Perversely -he had shut his eyes to the wickedness of men -and their weak folly and in consequence he now found -himself poised on the lip of a chasm.</p> - -<p>Two days after the terrible discovery which had -changed his attitude to life, he told his master that he -was going to leave him. It was a heavy blow. Not -for a moment had such a thing entered the old man’s -calculations. He had got into the habit of regarding -this good simple fellow as having so little mind of his -own that for all practical purposes he was now a part -of himself.</p> - -<p>So inconceivable was it to S. Gedge Antiques that -one wedded to him by years of faithful service could -take such a step, that it was hard to believe the young -man meant what he said. He must be joking. But -the wish was the anxious parent of the thought, for -even if the old man’s sight was failing, he was yet able -to see the disdain in the eyes of William.</p> - -<p>“I can’t part with you, boy,” he said bleakly.</p> - -<p>That, indeed, was the open truth. To part with -this absolutely honest and dependable fellow who had -grown used to his ways, for whom no day’s work was -too long, for whom no task was too exacting, who -was always obliging and cheerful, whose keen young -sight and almost uncanny “nose” for a good thing had -become quite indispensable to one who was no longer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span> -the man he had been; for S. Gedge Antiques to lose -this paragon was simply not to be thought of.</p> - -<p>“Boy don’t talk foolishly. I’ll raise your wages five -shillings a week from the first of the New Year.”</p> - -<p>The old man could not see the look of slow horror -that crept into the eyes of William; yet in spite of his -other infirmity, he did not fail to catch the note of -grim pain in the stifled, “I’ll have to leave you, sir. -I can’t stay here.”</p> - -<p>Obtuse the old man was, yet he now perceived the -finality of these broken words. As he realized all they -meant to him, the sharp pain was like the stab of a -knife. William was not merely indispensable. His -master loved him. And he had killed the thing he -loved.</p> - -<p>“Boy, I can’t let you go.” Human weakness fell -upon the old man like a shadow; this second blow was -even more terrible than the loss of the Van Roon which -was still a nightmare in his thoughts. “I’m old. I’m -getting deaf and my eyes are going.” He who had had -no spark of pity for others did not scruple to ask it for -himself.</p> - -<p>William was a rock. Primitive as he was, now that -he could respect his master no more, he must cease to -serve him. The revelation of that master’s baseness -had stricken him to the heart; for the time being it -had taken the savour out of life itself.</p> - -<p>One hope, one frail hope remained to S. Gedge Antiques, -even when he knew at last that his assistant -was “through” with him. In times so difficult the -young man might not be able to get another job; yet -he had only to mention it to discover it was not a staff -on which he would be able to lean.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span></p> - -<p>William, it seemed, had got another job already.</p> - -<p>“At how much a week?” Habit was so strong, -there was no concealing the sneer in the tone of surprised -inquiry.</p> - -<p>Three pounds a week was to be William’s salary. -The old man could only gasp. It brought home to him, -as perhaps nothing else could have done, the real worth -of the treasure he was about to lose. It was four times -the rate at which he had thought well to reward these -priceless services.</p> - -<p>“Who is being fool enough to give you that money?” -he sneered, the ruling passion still strong in him.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Hutton, sir, at the top of the street,” was the -mournful answer.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques dug a savage tooth in his lower -lip. Joseph Hutton was a young and “pushful” rival -whom on instinct he hated. “Fellow’s a fool to go -spoiling the market,” he snarled.</p> - -<p>Alas, the old man knew but too well that as far as -William was concerned, it was not at all a question of -spoiling the market. That aspect of the matter would -never arise in his mind.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LV">LV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">E</span>very</span> day for a fortnight William went to the -Hospital, only to be denied a sight of the patient. -June was fighting for life. And even when the crisis -was passed and it began to appear that the fight would -be successful, she had to face an issue just as critical -and yet more terrible, for the fear remained that she -would lose her reason.</p> - -<p>In this time of darkness William was most unhappy. -But as far as he was concerned, events moved quickly. -He said good-bye to his master, removed his belongings -from Number Forty-six, New Cross Street, and entered -the employ of a neighbouring dealer, a man of -far more liberal mind than S. Gedge Antiques; one -who, moreover, well understood the value of such a -servant.</p> - -<p>For William, it was a terrible wrench. He was like -a plant whose roots have been torn from the soil. With -the ardour of a simple character he had loved his -master, trusting and believing in him to an extent only -possible to those endowed with rare felicity of nature. -In spite of himself he was now forced to accept the -hard and bitter truth that the old man upon whom he -had lavished affection was not only a miser, but something -worse. When the passion which ruled his life -was fully roused he was tempted to anything.</p> - -<p>Life, felt William, could never be the same again. -There was still the beauty of the visible universe, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span> -pageantry of the seasons to adore; the harmony and -colour of the world’s design might still entrance the -senses of an artist, but not again must he surrender his -being entire to the joy of abounding in these wonders. -It was the duty of every man who dwelt upon the earth, -however humbly, to learn something of the hearts of -others. One could only live apart, it seemed, at one’s -peril.</p> - -<p>While in the lower depths and beginning to despair -of seeing June again, he called as usual at the Hospital -one afternoon, to be greeted by the long-hoped-for -news that the patient had taken a turn for the better. -Moreover she had begged to be allowed to see him; and -this permission was now given.</p> - -<p>Carrying the daily bunch of flowers, by means of -which June had already recognized his care for her, -he was led along the ward to the bed in which she lay. -The change in her appearance startled him. Little remained -of the whimsical yet high-spirited and practical -girl who had mocked his inefficiency in regard to the -world and its ways. To see those great eyes with the -horror still in them and that meagre face, dead white -amid the snow of its pillows, was to feel a tragic tightening -of the heart.</p> - -<p>Tears ran down June’s cheeks at the sight of the -flowers. “I don’t deserve your goodness,” she said. -“You can’t guess how wicked I am.”</p> - -<p>As she extended to him her thin arms he found it -hard to rein back his own tears. What suffering he -had unwittingly brought upon this poor thing. But it -was impossible to keep track of her mind which even -now was in the thrall of an awful nightmare. God -knew in what darkness it was still plunged.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span></p> - -<p>Shuddering convulsively at the memories his voice -and his presence brought to her, the words that came -to her lips tore his heart. “Am I struck? Am I like -the Hoodoo? Am I like Uncle Si?”</p> - -<p>To him, just then, this wildness was hardly more -than a symptom of a mind deranged. His great distress -did not allow him to pursue its implication, nor -could he understand the nadir of the soul from which it -sprang. Yet many times in the days to follow he was -haunted by those words. They came to him in his -waking hours and often in lieu of sleep at night.</p> - -<p>Returning from this short and unhappy interview -to his new home at Number 116, New Cross Street, -he found a surprise in store. A visitor had called to -see him and, at the moment of his arrival, was on the -point of going away.</p> - -<p>His late master, looking very grey and frail, had -come to beg him to return. He declared that he was -now too old to carry on alone. Sight and hearing were -growing worse. He had another quarrel with the -char and had been obliged to send her permanently -away, although the truth of the matter was that an -oppressed female had risen at last against his tyranny -and had found a better place.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques was now a figure for pity, but -William, fresh from the lacerating presence of the niece -whom he had so cruelly thrown out of doors, had none -to give.</p> - -<p>The whine and snuffle of their last meeting, at whose -remembrance rose the gorge of an honest man, were -no more. Instead of the crocodile tricks were now the -slow tears of a soul in agony. The truth was, this -childless and friendless old man, who in the grip of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span> -passion that had eaten away his life, had never been -able to spare a thought for his kind, simply could not -do without the one human being he had learned to love.</p> - -<p>Their relations, as the old miser had discovered, were -much closer than those of servant and master. William -stood for youth, for the seeing mind, for cheerful, selfless -giving, for life itself. The tones of his voice, -his kindly readiness, his tolerance for an old man’s -megrims; even the sound of this good fellow moving -furniture in the next room and the sense of him about -the place had grown to mean so much that, now they -were withdrawn, all other things grew null.</p> - -<p>The old man felt now that he could not go on, and -at any other moment, the force of his appeal might -have touched the gentle nature to whom it was made. -But the stars in their courses fought against S. Gedge -Antiques. He was a figure to move the heart, as he -stood in the shop of a rival dealer, the slow tears staining -his thin cheeks, but William had the shadow of that -other figure upon him. The wreck of youth, of reason -itself, seemed infinitely more tragic than the falling -of the temple upon the priest of Baal whose wickedness -had brought the thing to pass.</p> - -<p>William denied his master. And yet hearing him -out to the bitter end, he was unable to withhold a little -pity. All feeling for the old man was dead; the bedside -from which he had just come had finally destroyed the -last spark of his affection, yet being the creature he -was, he could not sit in judgment.</p> - -<p>“I’ll pay you twice what you are getting now if -you’ll return to me,” said the old man. “As I say, I -can’t go on.” He peered into that face of ever-deepening -distress. “What do you say, boy?” He took the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span> -hand of the young man in his own, as a father might -take that of a beloved son. “I’ll give you anything—if -you’ll come back. I haven’t long to live. Return -to-night and I’ll leave you the business. Now what do -you say?”</p> - -<p>Had it been human to forgive at such a moment, S. -Gedge Antiques would have been forgiven. But William -could only stand dumb and unresponsive before -the master he had loved.</p> - -<p>“I’m a warm man.” The voice of the old dealer -who had made money his god, sank to a whisper becoming -a theme so sacred. “My investments have turned -out well. There’s no saying what I <i>am</i> worth—but -this I’ll tell you in strict confidence—I own property.” -The hushed tone was barely audible. “In fact I own -nearly half my own side of this street. Now what do -you say? Promise to come back to me to-night and -I’ll go right now and see my lawyer.”</p> - -<p>The young man stood the image of unhappiness.</p> - -<p>“Only speak the word and you shall inherit every -stick and stone.”</p> - -<p>It was a moment to rend the heart of both, but the -word was not spoken. For the second time that afternoon -William was hard set to rein back his tears; but -he had not the power to yield to this appeal.</p> - -<p>Overborne by the knowledge that the hand of Fate -was upon him, S. Gedge Antiques, leaning heavily on -his knotted stick, moved feebly towards the dark street.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LVI">LVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">W</span>illiam</span> continued his daily visits to the Hospital, -but he was not allowed to see June. Life -itself was no longer in immediate danger, but she had -had a relapse and the doctors were still afraid that -the mental injury would be permanent. Time alone -could prove if such was the case or no, but the mood -induced by the interview with William, and the strange -words she had used to him, which seemed to belong to -some fixed and secret obsession, were not a good sign.</p> - -<p>Following his visit there had been a rise of temperature. -And this meant further weakening of a terror-haunted -mind. Even if the need for anxiety was less -acute, full recovery at best would be slow and more than -ever doubtful.</p> - -<p>June was still menaced by the shadow when an event -occurred which intensified William’s distress. One -morning, about a week after he had rejected his master’s -last appeal, an inspector of police came to see him. -Neighbours of S. Gedge Antiques had called attention -to the fact that the shop had remained closed for several -days, and as it was known that the old man had -lately been living alone, the circumstance had given -rise to a certain amount of suspicion. William’s name -had been mentioned as lately in his employ and he was -asked to throw what light he could on the mystery.</p> - -<p>“The neighbours think we ought to enter the shop<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span> -and see if anything has happened,” said the police inspector.</p> - -<p>William thought so too. Remembering the last meeting -with his master, which had left a scar he would -carry to the grave, a kind of prophetic foreknowledge -came to him now of a new development to this tragedy.</p> - -<p>It was not convenient just then to leave the shop as -he happened to be in sole charge of it, therefore he was -unable to accompany the inspector down the street. -But half an hour later, on the return of his new employer, -curiosity forced him to put on his hat and go -forth to see if the thing he feared had come to pass.</p> - -<p>The police, already, had made an entry of Number -Forty-six. Moreover a knot of people was assembled -about the familiar door, which was half open. Its shutters -were still up, but two constables were guarding the -precincts. William caught the words “Murder—Suicide—Robbery” -as he came up with the throng.</p> - -<p>In a state of painful excitement, he made his way -to the door.</p> - -<p>S. Gedge Antiques, it seemed, had been found lying -dead on the shop floor. The young man wished to pass -in, but the police had instructions to allow no one to -enter. A doctor summoned by telephone, had not yet -come.</p> - -<p>William was still discussing the matter, when the -inspector whose acquaintance he had made already, -hearing voices at the door, came from the shop interior -to see if it was the doctor who had at last arrived. He -recognized William at once and invited him in.</p> - -<p>Outside was a murky November day, but with the -windows still shuttered, it was necessary for three -rather ineffectual gas-jets to be lit in the shop. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span> -light they gave was weird and fitful, but it sufficed to -enable the young man to see what had occurred.</p> - -<p>As yet the body had not been touched. In accordance -with custom in such cases, it had to lie just as it -was until viewed by a doctor, for if moved by unskilful -hands, some possible clue as to the cause of death might -be obliterated.</p> - -<p>The old man was lying supine, before the Hoodoo. -One glance at that face, so drawn, so thwarted, and -yet so pitiful in its ghastliness, was enough to convince -William that death had come directly from the hand of -God. With a shiver he recalled the words of a strange -and terrible clairvoyance, of late so often in his ears. -“Am I struck? Am I like Uncle Si? Am I like the -Hoodoo?”</p> - -<p>As the old man lay now, in all the starkness of his -soul, with only the essence shewing in that tragic face, -William was overcome by his likeness to the image. It -was as if, at the last, his very nature had gone out to -some false god who had perverted him. That splay-footed -monster, so large of maw, an emblem of bestial -greed, was too plainly a symbol of the mammon of unrighteousness -to which the master had devoted his life.</p> - -<p>Consumed by pity, William turned away from a -sight which he was no longer able to bear.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LVII">LVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">S</span>pring</span> came, and June who had had to fight for -life and then for reason, won slowly to a final -sense of victory. This came to her on a delicious April -day, when the earth waking from its long sleep, was renewed -with the joy of procreation. Her own nature, -which had passed through so many months of darkness, -was quickened to response in this magic hour.</p> - -<p>The force of the emotion owed much, no doubt, to -the spirit of environment. Life had begun again for -June under conditions different from any she had -known. Powerful friends had been gained for her by -a singularly romantic story. Of certain things that had -happened she could not bring herself to tell; but when -as much of the truth came out as could be derived from -facts precariously pieced together, she became a real -heroine in the sight of Sir Arthur Babraham and his -daughter.</p> - -<p>But for her courage and keen wit a great work of -art might have passed out of the country without anyone -being the wiser. These staunch friends were determined -that justice should be done in the matter, and -kindly folk that they were, did not spare themselves in -the long and difficult task of restoring her to health.</p> - -<p>The middle of April saw her installed in the gardener’s -cottage at Homefield in the care of a motherly -and genial housewife. Here she almost dared to be -happy. The phantoms of the long night were being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span> -dispersed at last in an atmosphere of sunny and cordial -well-being.</p> - -<p>Miss Babraham, who walked across the park from -the house every morning to see her, had become a sort -of fairy godmother whose mission was to see that she -did not worry about anything. She must give her days -and nights to the duty of getting well. And she was -going to be rich.</p> - -<p>Riches, alas, for June, had the fairy godmother but -known, were the fly in the ointment. They could only -arise from one source, and around it must always hover -the black storm clouds. She had no real right to the -money which was coming to her, and although she -had no means apart from it, she felt that she must -never accept a single penny. It was morbidly unpractical -perhaps, but there the feeling was.</p> - -<p>When June had been at Homefield about a week, -Miss Babraham found her one morning in the sunny -embrasure of the pleasant little sitting room improving -her mind by a happy return to her favourite “Mill on -the Floss.” In passing out of its mental eclipse, the -angle of June’s vision had shifted a little; her approach -to new phases of experience was rather more -sympathetic than it had been. Before “that” had happened, -she had been inclined, as became a self-respecting -member of the Democracy which is apt to deride -what it does not comprehend, to be a little contemptuous -of “Miss Blue Blood,” a creature born to more than -a fair share of life’s good things. But now that she -knew more about this happy-natured girl, she felt -a tolerance of which, at first, she was just a little -ashamed. Envy was giving place to something else. -Her graces and her air of fine breeding, which June’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span> -own caste was inclined to resent, were not the obvious -fruits of expensive clothes; in fact, they owed far less -than June had supposed to the length of the purse behind -them.</p> - -<p>The kindness, the charm, the sympathy were more -than skin deep. In the first place, no doubt their possessor -had been born under a lucky star; much of her -quality was rooted inevitably in the fact that she was -her father’s daughter yet the invalid could not gainsay -that “Miss Blue Blood” had manners of the heart. -Now that June saw her in her own setting among her -own people this golden truth shone clear. And in the -many talks June had with her good hostess, Mrs. -Chrystal, the wife of Sir Arthur’s head gardener, one -radiant fact rose bright and free: there was none like -Miss Babraham. Her peer was not to be found on the -wide earth.</p> - -<p>No doubt there were spots on this sun as there are -spots on other suns, but June agreed that as far as -Miss Babraham was concerned these blemishes were -hidden from mortal eye. And each day gave cogency -to such a view. This morning, for example, the distinguished -visitor was brimming with kindliness. She -talked simply and sincerely, without patronage or frills -upon the subjects in which June was now interested. -She had read <i>all</i> George Eliot and gave as the sum of -her experience that the “Mill on the Floss” was the -story she liked best, although her father preferred -“Adam Bede” or “Silas Marner.”</p> - -<p>“Before my illness,” said June, “I was getting to -think that all novels were silly and a waste of time. -But I see now that you can learn a lot about life from -a good one.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span></p> - -<p>She was in a very serious mood. Like most people -who have not the gift of “taking things in their stride” -new orientations were a heavy business. At school, as -a little girl, she had shed many tears over her arithmetic. -The process of mind improvement was not to -be undertaken lightly. She could never be a Miss Babraham, -but her ambition, in the words of her favourite -song, was to be as like her as she was able to be.</p> - -<p>Like true poets, however, Miss Babrahams were -born. Such graces came from an inner harmony of -nature. All the best fairies must have flocked to her -christening. One minor gift she had which June allowed -herself to covet, since it might fall within the -scope of common mortals; it was the way in which her -maid arranged her hair. June’s own famous mane, -which indirectly had brought such suffering upon her, -had mercifully been spared; it had not even been -“bobbed,” and with careful tendence might again -achieve its old magnificence. As shyly she confessed -this ambition, which sprang less from vanity than -simple pride in her one “asset,” Miss Babraham assured -her that nothing could be nicer than her own way -of doing it.</p> - -<p>From hair and the art of treating it they passed to -other intimate topics; frocks and the hang of them; -the knack of putting things on, in which Miss Babraham’s -gift of style filled June with envy since that, alas, -she would never be able to copy; and above all, her -friend’s wonderful faculty of looking her best on all -occasions.</p> - -<p>As the good fairy, after a stay of a full hour, rose -to go, she said, “If to-morrow morning is as fine as this -morning, do you think you could come over to us?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span> -You know the way. It’s an easy walk of less than half -a mile.”</p> - -<p>June was sure she could.</p> - -<p>“Please do, if you won’t find it trying. Come about -eleven. And I hope,” said the good fairy, casting -back her charming smile as she was about to pass out -of the sitting-room door, “there may be a pleasant little -surprise for you.”</p> - -<p>During the last few weeks June had known in abundance -the agreeably unexpected. And though at intervals -during the rest of the fair spring day, her mind -toyed with this new “surprise,” she was not able to -guess what it was going to be.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LVIII">LVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">E</span>leven</span> o’clock the next morning saw June, -dressed very carefully indeed, before the portals -of the House. She had come well. Excitement had -made her feel quite strong again; moreover she had -been promised a reward for the effort she was making. -Apart from that besides, it was the biggest feat of her -social life, so far, to press the bell of such a noble -door.</p> - -<p>The servant who answered it was not too proud to -shew by his air of prompt courtesy that her coming -was anticipated. She was led across a glorious hall—all -black oak, family portraits, heads of deer and suits -of armour, with an open gallery running round the top, -like a scene on the movies—up a wide staircase, laid -with a carpet thick and subtle to the tread, along a -corridor into a room of great length whose glass roof -gave a wonderful light. Many pictures hung upon its -walls. June was thrilled at the moment she found herself -in it, for this she felt sure, was the famous Long -Gallery.</p> - -<p>The thrill was not confined, however, to the room. -When she entered, June thought it was empty, but a -look round disclosed at the far end a tall young man -in a familiar attitude of rapt absorption. Only one -person since the world began could have been so lost to -the present in sheer force of contemplating a mere -relic of the past.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span></p> - -<p>It was a rare bit of contrivance, all the same, on the -part of Miss Babraham. Here, before June, was the -Sawney, raised to his highest power. The fairy godmother -had made a pass with her magic wand and -William the amazing stood before her in the flesh.</p> - -<p>He was too far from the door and too rapt in adoration -of the masterpiece at which he was gazing, to have -heard June come in. And so, before he saw her, she -had time to grow nervous and this was a pity. For so -effectively had the mine been sprung that she had need -just now of all her courage.</p> - -<p>A good deal of water had recently flowed under the -bridge. It was as if a hundred years had passed since -she had dared to label him a Sawney. He had grown -up and she had grown down. So far away was the -time of their equality, if such a time had ever really -been, that she was just a shade in awe of him now.</p> - -<p>Many hours had he spent by her bed. It was perhaps -due to him that she had emerged at last from the chasm -which so long and so grimly threatened to engulf her. -His royal yet gentle nature had a true power of healing. -The look in his eyes, the music of his voice, the -poetry of his thoughts, the charm of his mere presence, -had borne him to a plane far above that of common -people like herself. If Miss Babraham was a fairy -godmother, this young man was surely the true prince.</p> - -<p>Beyond anyone she had ever known he had a perception -of those large and deep things of sky and earth, -which alone, as it seemed to her now, made life worth -while. He was the prophet of the beautiful in deed -as in word. During the long night through which she -had passed, the sense of her inferiority had been not -the least of her sorrows.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span></p> - -<p>That sense returned upon her now as she stood timidly -by the door through which she had come, watching -the beams of an April sun, almost as shy as herself, -weave an aureole for him. Here was the god of her -dreams; she who lately had known no god and who -long ago had taught herself to despise all forms of -dreaming.</p> - -<p>At last he turned and saw her.</p> - -<p>“You!” He sprang towards her with an eager cry.</p> - -<p>Brilliant stage management. But by fate’s perversity, -the players, somehow, were not quite equal to -their parts. June’s shy timidity communicated itself -at once to this sensitive plant. There was not a ghost -of a reason why he should not have taken her in his -arms, for he had come to love her tenderly. The act -had been devised for him, the deed expected, but this -young man was less wise in some things than in others. -Deep as he could look into hidden mysteries, there was -certainly one mystery whose heart he could not read.</p> - -<p>June’s odd confusion summoned a mistaken chivalry. -Broken in spirit, poor soul, by what she had been -through, she could no longer defend herself; he must -be, therefore, very gentle. It would have been easier -to tackle the Miss June of New Cross Street, the -rather imperious and sharp-tongued niece of his late -employer, than this quivering storm-beaten flower.</p> - -<p>With all his genius it was to be feared he would always -be a Sawney.</p> - -<p>“How are you getting on Miss June?” he said lamely. -“You look very thin, but you’ve got quite a colour.”</p> - -<p>Something of the gawklike New Cross Street manner, -which compared ill with Miss Babraham’s tact and -finesse was in this greeting. Phœbus Apollo took a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span> -sudden nose-dive. He came, in fact, within an ace -of a crash.</p> - -<p>June’s cheeks grew flame-colour. An idiot less -divine would have given her a kiss and have had done -with it, but in some ways he was a shocking dunce.</p> - -<p>“I expect you are surprised to see me here, aren’t -you?”</p> - -<p>She could but stammer that she was very much -surprised.</p> - -<p>“Sir Arthur has asked me to re-hang some of these.” -A rather proud wave of the hand towards those august -walls shewed that he was human. “And he has commissioned -me”—She heard again that dying fall which -always touched her ear with ecstasy—“to go over this -Jan Vermeer most carefully with warm water and -cotton wool.”</p> - -<p>June knitted her brow in order to accompany his -finger in its mystical course.</p> - -<p>“A Jan what?” she said, achieving a frown. Had -it been possible at this early stage of convalescence to -achieve a note of reproof, that authentic touch would -not have been lacking.</p> - -<p>William’s the blame for a lost opportunity. But life -is full of <i>gaffes</i> on the part of those who ought to know -better. The ability of William was beyond dispute. -Miss Babraham had acclaimed it, whereby she was no -more than the mouthpiece of her father, that famous -connoisseur who said openly that the discoverer of the -Van Roon was a genius. To Sir Arthur it was miraculous -that a tiro should expose the treasure to the view in -a fashion so accomplished. It hardly seemed possible -to remove the burdens of overgrowth laid by time and -the vandal fingers of inferior artists upon that delicate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span> -surface without damage to the fabric. Yet experts had -declared the thing to be not a penny the worse for all -the processes it had been through; and on the strength -of this amazing skill, the owner of Homefield had decided -to entrust to those inspired hands, one of his -cherished Vermeers.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIX">LIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>ogether</span> they went round the Long Gallery, -gazing at the treasure on its walls, which to him -meant so much, to her so little. She tried to see it with -his eyes or if this could not be, at least get some clue -to the quality which made quite ordinary looking objects -the things they were.</p> - -<p>Who could have believed that an old and dirty thing -which she had heard even Uncle Si describe as a daub, -would turn out to be a fortune? Other fortunes were -here to gaze upon, but why they were so precious would -always be for June a mystery of mysteries. Even with -William’s help it was a subject on which she could -never be really wise. She had now a great desire to -reach out after Culture; the “Mill on the Floss” was -most stimulating to the mind; but just now she felt, in -Blackhampton phrase, that already “she had bitten -off more than she could chew.”</p> - -<p>Perhaps it was the presence of William which had -induced a mood of great complexity. Old unhappy -things were flooding back. And as they walked slowly -round the Gallery, an object at its extreme end suddenly -sprang into view, which brought her up with -an icy gasp. The Hoodoo was grinning at her.</p> - -<p>In its new setting the monster was merely grotesque. -Retrieved from the morose interior of Number Forty-six, -New Cross Street, which it had darkened so long -with its malice, it was no longer an active embodiment<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</span> -of evil. The force of its ugliness was less, yet for -June, in a subtle way, the implication of its presence -was more.</p> - -<p>It was as if the Fates were saying to her: “We are -watching you, my girl. This young man, whom now -you dare to love, have you not tricked him out of his -patrimony by your pretended worship of beauty? -Share his ecstasy, if you please, of his Peter This and -his Mathew That, but don’t forget that Our eye is still -upon you. What you have already received you will -long remember, but you may get another dose if you -are not careful.”</p> - -<p>Hearing words to this sinister effect in the secret -places of her soul, June could only shiver. William, -now as conscious of the invalid’s frailty as of the imperious -challenge of beauty, led her at once to a seat -without seeking the cause of her distress.</p> - -<p>He saw she was still very weak and hastened therefore -to set her down on a chair of the Empire, heedless -of the fact that she was almost cheek by jowl with the -Hoodoo.</p> - -<p>“Mustn’t tire yourself,” he said in a voice of rare -sympathy which did but add to the feeling of misery -that crept upon her. “I’m afraid you’ve walked a bit -too far.”</p> - -<p>Again June shivered. The old unhappy things were -threatening once more to submerge her. “How I wish -That had not come here,” she said dismally. There -was no need to point at the Image; she was sure that -he knew what she meant.</p> - -<p>But amazing young man that he was, this was trying -him a little too highly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, you mean the James,” he said pointing to a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</span> -windmill opposite. “He isn’t a Mathew, is he? I’m -so glad, Miss June, you think that too, because with -you to back me, I may be able to break it to Sir -Arthur, that this isn’t quite the place for him.”</p> - -<p>Divine humility! Mad confusion! Had she but felt -a little stronger, a little less unhappy, she really could -have shaken him.</p> - -<p>“I mean the Hoodoo,” she said woefully.</p> - -<p>Her wild bird’s heart went quick and high as she -saw him turn casually and enfold That with a slow -smile. “Right again,” he said, his head a little to one -side in pure connoisseurship, a trick she had learned -to watch for. “I quite agree with you—the old fool -swallows more than his share of this beautiful light.”</p> - -<p>June was not thinking of the beautiful light. She -was trembling in spirit; but one of his nature could -not be expected to know what demons from the abyss -were invading her. “How I wish it was somewhere -else.”</p> - -<p>His laugh of gay agreement was suddenly checked -as he caught the look in her eyes and in the next -instant he saw the old man lying dead at the foot of -the Hoodoo.</p> - -<p>It was like the passing of a cloud across the sun. -Life for him, also, had found another notation in these -terrible months. He had been through a hard school. -Certain lines in his face were deeper and there were -hollows under his eyes. Never again must he allow the -ideal to run so far ahead of the real. Yet in this harsh -moment the power of his nature kept him up.</p> - -<p>He was able to pierce to the true reason for June’s -deadly pallor. It was not wholly due to the fact that -she was still weak or that she had walked too far.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</span> -Trolls even now were in her brain. With his instinct -for healing he must do his utmost to cast them out.</p> - -<p>“We’ll try to persuade Miss Babraham to have him -put in the garden.”</p> - -<p>Scarcely had he spoken the words when the fairy -godmother, accompanied by Sir Arthur Babraham, -entered the Long Gallery.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LX">LX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">“S</span>o</span> here you are!”</p> - -<p>But the light note of Miss Babraham’s greeting -changed to a quick concern as a feminine eye saw -at a glance that June was looking “done.”</p> - -<p>“Now don’t get up, please. I am going to be quite -angry with myself if your walk has made you over-tired.”</p> - -<p>June, a new shyness upon her, which the presence -of Sir Arthur made much worse, found it very difficult -to speak.</p> - -<p>“I hope you are cultivating a taste for chicken and -new laid eggs,” said the kindly gentleman. “And for -a glass of wine to your meals—which I always say is -what has made Old England the country she is.” -Finding his jolly laugh was less effective than usual, -he pointed to the Hoodoo in the tactful hope of putting -an embarrassed girl at her ease. “There’s an old friend -I’m sure you recognize.” June’s distress, however, -grew rapidly worse and Sir Arthur made a fresh cast. -“I’m not sure all the same,” he said to William in a -laughing aside, “that the old fellow can be allowed to -stay here. Tell me, what is your candid opinion?”</p> - -<p>“We’ve been wondering, sir, if he wouldn’t look -better in the garden.”</p> - -<p>Miss Babraham caught gaily at the suggestion. -“The very place for the jar of Knossos. And perhaps -Miss June and Mr. William will plant a myrtle in it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</span></p> - -<p>“A myrtle,” said Sir Arthur. “In that chap—a -myrtle?” He plucked at his moustache and looked -at the laughing Laura. “Why—pray—a myrtle?”</p> - -<p>“Papa, how dense you are!”</p> - -<p>A hit clean and fair, which after a very little thought -Sir Arthur was man enough to own. His one excuse, -and a poor one, was that in certain things the sex to -which he had the misfortune to belong, was notoriously -“slow in the uptake.”</p> - -<p>It was now William’s turn to acclaim the idea. -Blushing deeply said that quaint and whimsical young -man: “Yes, Miss Babraham, with your permission we -will plant a myrtle in the jar of Knossos.”</p> - -<p>In the laugh which followed June did not share; -just now her feeling was that she would never be able -to laugh again.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur, still tactful, now conceived it to be his -duty to cheer the poor girl up. “By the way,” he said, -“has my daughter told you what we propose to do with -your Van Roon? Of course with your permission.”</p> - -<p>June simply longed for the power to say that it was -not for her to give the permission as the Van Roon -was not hers. But she was living just now in a kind of -dream in which action and speech had no part. The -only thing she could do was to listen passively to the -voice of Sir Arthur, while it leisurely unfolded a tale -of fairyland.</p> - -<p>“I must tell you,” he said, “subject to your approval—always, -of course, subject to <i>that</i>—we have formed a -sort of committee to deal with this picture of yours. -It has given rise to a rather curious position. We think—three -or four of us—that it ought to be acquired for -the nation; but of course there’s the question of price.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</span> -If the work is put up at auction, it may fetch more -than we should feel justified in paying. Sentiment of -course; but nowadays sentiment plays a big part in -these matters. On the other hand, having regard to the -obscurity of its origin, it might be knocked down for -considerably less than it is intrinsically worth. All the -same we are quite convinced that it is a very choice -example of a great master, and that the place for it is -the National Gallery, where another Van Roon is badly -needed. Now I hope you see the dilemma. If the -nation enters the market a definite buyer, the thing may -soar to a preposterous sum. At the same time, we -don’t want the nation to acquire it for less than its real -value. So the question in a nutshell is, will you accept -a private arbitration or do you prefer to run the risk of -getting comparatively little in the hope of obtaining an -extra ten thousand pounds or so?”</p> - -<p>June followed the argument as closely as she could, -and at the end of it burst into wild tears.</p> - -<p>“The picture is not mine,” she sobbed. “It doesn’t -belong to me.”</p> - -<p>It was a moment of keen embarrassment. Sir -Arthur, who had doubted from the first, was hardly to -be blamed for beginning to doubt again. Such an -outburst was the oddest confirmation of his first suspicion, -which conspiring Circumstance had enabled him -perhaps too easily to forget. But Laura’s faith was -quite unshaken. For her the question of ownership -had been settled once and for all. The poor thing was -overwrought, overdriven; it was so like the tactless -father of hers, to worry the girl with all kinds of tiresome -details when he should have known that she was -not strong enough to grapple with them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</span></p> - -<p>“Come, papa,” said Laura Babraham with reproof in -a clear grey eye. “If we don’t go at once and look at -that herbaceous border we shall certainly be late for -luncheon.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXI">LXI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">L</span>eft</span> to themselves once more, it became William’s -task to comfort June’s distress. Like Sir Arthur, -he too, it seemed, could be tactful. Instead of discussing -the question of the Van Roon’s ownership or the -unlucky presence of the Hoodoo, he began gently to -discourse of Mathew Maris.</p> - -<p>As far as June was concerned he might as well have -discoursed of the moon. In the first place she had -never heard of Mathew Maris; and in the second she -was consumed by a desire to settle forever the question -of the Van Roon which was now tormenting her like a -fire. This was a dynamic moment, when great decisions -are reached with startling abruptness and half a -lifetime may be lived in half a minute.</p> - -<p>Mathew Maris was not for June just now. Suddenly -she broke again into wild sobs.</p> - -<p>“I cheated you, I tricked you over that picture.”</p> - -<p>Again, good honest fellow, he tried to change the -current of this mind distraught. But it was not to -be.</p> - -<p>“You gave it me, didn’t you, because I made you -think I had fallen in love with it? But I hadn’t. It -meant nothing to me—not in that way.”</p> - -<p>He stood an image of dismay, but he had to -listen.</p> - -<p>“Why do you suppose I did that? I’ll tell you. I -overheard Uncle Si talking to a dealer. You remember,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</span> -don’t you, the funny crooked little man in the knitted -comforter and the brown billycock whom I used to call -Foxy Face? One morning when you were out he -offered Uncle Si five pounds for it and Uncle Si said -it might be worth a good deal more. That’s why I -decided to get hold of it if I could, before Uncle Si -got it from you. And that’s why I cracked it up and -made you think I could see all sorts of wonders in it, -when all the time I saw no more beauty in it than there -is in That.” And she pointed to the Hoodoo.</p> - -<p>William gave a little gasp. June heard the gasp. -And in the mad unhappiness of that moment she determined -to spare herself nothing. She would strip -herself bare so that the whip might be better laid on.</p> - -<p>“Beauty means no more to me than it does to that -Thing there. All your talk about Hobbemas and -Marises and Vermeers and Cromes are to me just -sloppy. They bore me stiff every time. I hate the -sight of all these things.” The wave of a wildly -tragic hand included all the masterpieces in the Long -Gallery. “I hate them! I hate them! So now you -know the mean and dirty liar that I am.”</p> - -<p>No longer able to bear the sound of her strange and -terrible words he turned sickly away. It was almost -as if they had opened a vein in his heart. He remembered -again the cry that had haunted him after his -seeing her first at the Hospital. “Am I struck? Am I -like Uncle Si? Am I like the Hoodoo?”</p> - -<p>Poor soul! It was not for him to judge her. He -could only think of her sufferings. And it was cruel -indeed to realize what they must be now.</p> - -<p>“That’s why I don’t want the money. And that’s -why I don’t mean to have it. I burn when I think of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</span> -it. Now you know how low down I am. I hope you -like the way I’ve cheated you.”</p> - -<p>He sought to take her hand, but she withdrew it -fiercely. His very goodness almost made her hate him.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXII">LXII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">B</span>y</span> the advice of Miss Babraham they planted a -myrtle in the jar of Knossos. Some days later -the Hoodoo was haled into a convenient corner of the -Italian garden. Here, by the marge of a tiny rock-strewn -lake, the momentous rite was performed with a -high solemnity. Much displacement of mould and a -considerable wheelbarrowing of the same was necessary -and Mr. Chrystal, the head gardener, had to advise -in the use of the trowel, an art in which neither -June nor William was quite so adept as they might -have been. But at last, after some honest digging and -shovelling on the part of William who was not afraid -to take off his coat to the job, and timely help from -Mr. Chrystal’s George who was uncannily wise, although -to be sure he had the experience of a lifetime -and a fairly long one to bring to bear on such matters, -the thing was done.</p> - -<p>June and William then retired to the fragrant shade -of a budding lime, feeling rather hot, yet not dissatisfied -with their labours. It was a perfect morning. -Larks were hovering in the bright air. Blackbirds and -thrushes were trying out their grace-notes, and once -June thought she heard a nightingale.</p> - -<p>For a little they reclined in poetic comfort in two -wicker chairs. Fauns in marble, and Cupid, complete -with bow and arrows lurked hard by. At last June -broke a delicious silence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</span></p> - -<p>“You must put your coat on,” she said suddenly.</p> - -<p>“But——” said William who really had delved and -shovelled to some purpose.</p> - -<p>June was not to be Butted—not this golden day.</p> - -<p>“If you don’t you might get a bad chill,” she said -severely.</p> - -<p>William rose and did her bidding. And in the midst -of that simple act, a certain piece of confidential information, -which Sir Arthur and Miss Laura had been -kind enough to supply at frequent intervals during the -last few days, recurred forcibly to his mind. It was to -the effect that “Miss Gedge was so practical she would -make an ideal wife for an artist.”</p> - -<p>As far as the major premise was concerned it was -less irrelevant than at first it might seem, for William -had recently decided that an artist was what he was -going to be. In the very act of putting on his coat -he now recalled the high and sacred mystery to which -his life was vowed. And further he recalled that before -entering the garden he had taken the precaution -of slipping a neat little sketching book and pencil into -his coat pocket. Thus, upon sitting down, in solemn -silence he took them forth and proceeded to draw.</p> - -<p>June it was who broke the silence, after some little -while.</p> - -<p>“If you are drawing that myrtle,” she said, “it looks -a bit potty to me stuck up there. There’s nothing -to it.”</p> - -<p>She was more her true self this happy morning than -for many a tragic month.</p> - -<p>“It’ll grow,” said the artist.</p> - -<p>“Won’t seem much if it doesn’t in that great jar. -It was Miss Babraham’s idea to stick it there, so it’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</span> -all right of course. She said it was an emblem of -what was it?”</p> - -<p>“Of marriage,” said the artist with an air of innocent -abstraction.</p> - -<p>“Then she ought to have planted it herself—if she -<i>is</i> going to be married.”</p> - -<p>“On the first of July. They’ve fixed the day.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said June. “Have you seen her young man?”</p> - -<p>“He came to lunch yesterday.”</p> - -<p>“Who is he?”</p> - -<p>“The Honourable Barrington, a gentleman in the -Blues.”</p> - -<p>June frowned portentously. “I hope he’ll be good -enough for her.” But she didn’t sound very hopeful.</p> - -<p>“He’s a very nice gentleman.”</p> - -<p>“Ought to be if he’s going to marry <i>her</i>. But what -I should like to know is, why was she so set on you and -me planting that myrtle when she ought to have planted -it herself.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t know, I’m sure, Miss June,” said the artist, -not so much as glancing up from his work.</p> - -<p>Once a Sawney always a Sawney. Perennially, it -seemed, was she up against the relentless workings of -that natural law. Marriage, money, commonsense, the -really big things of life, meant so little to him compared -with windmills and myrtles, and things of that kind. -Like her beloved Miss Babraham, this dear and charming -fellow was almost too good to be true, but day by -day the conviction was growing upon her that he really -did need somebody practical to look after him. And -she was not alone in thinking so. Miss Babraham, -who knew so much about everything, had already expressed -that opinion to her quite strongly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</span></p> - -<p>Here he was, in the middle of a perfect morning, -with all sorts of really beautiful things about him, and -larks and blackbirds quiring, and the sun on the water -and the Surrey hills, wasting his time seemingly, by -drawing that rather paltry looking little plant stuck up -there on the top of the Hoodoo. Even if it was the -emblem of marriage she could not help a subtle feeling -of annoyance that he should not use his precious time a -bit better.</p> - -<p>However, the cream of the joke was to follow.</p> - -<p>The artist it was who quaintly burst this fresh bubble -of silence. “Talk as much as you like, Miss June,” he -said with something a little odd, a little unexpected in -his manner, “but I hope you’ll keep your hands in your -lap just as they are now, and if you don’t mind will -you please bring your chin round a bit—on to a level -with my finger.”</p> - -<p>“Please get on with that myrtle.” Before, however, -the fiat was really pronounced, she abruptly stopped. -Could such a thing be? Was it possible that he was -not drawing the myrtle at all?</p> - -<p>It was more than possible.</p> - -<p>And that was the cream of the whole matter!</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXIII">LXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">“I</span>’m</span> not half as good looking as that,” said June.</p> - -<p>“All depends, don’t you know, on the angle -at which one happens to get you,” said William.</p> - -<p>It was the tone of a gentleman in the Blues speaking -to Miss Babraham. Yet it came so pat and so natural -from the lips of an artist, that in spite of herself, June -could not help being a little awed by it. She didn’t -agree, yet she didn’t disagree; that is to say, as Miss -Babraham would have done, she agreed to disagree -without contradicting the artist flatly.</p> - -<p>Besides it is the whole duty of an artist to know just -how people look in all circumstances. Everybody looks -better at some moments than at others. June had no -pretensions to be considered an artist herself, but at -that moment she knew just how William looked. In -his new suit, neat rather than smart and smart rather -than neat—all depends don’t you know on the angle -at which one happened to get it!—with his mop of fair -hair brushed away from his fine forehead, and his -yellow tie, and the curves of that sensitive mouth, and -those wonderful eyes and those slim fingers, he looked -fitted by nature to marry a real lady. Indeed, in the -course of the last few days, a suspicion had crossed -June’s mind that Miss Babraham thought so too; thus -the apparition of the Honourable Barrington and the -definite fixing of the day had taken a load off her -mind.</p> - -<p>For all that other loads were still upon it. Since her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</span> -nerve-storm in the Long Gallery a week had passed. -She was feeling much better now, day by day she was -growing stronger; nevertheless she was troubled about -many things.</p> - -<p>Foremost of these was the question so vital to a -practical mind, of ways and means. They both had -to live. And if William had really made up his mind -to be an artist, he would need money and plenty of -it for leisure and study and foreign travel. She was -rather glad, if only for this reason, that he had been -able to take such a bold decision. He would be the -more likely to accept that which really belonged to -him: the price of the Van Roon.</p> - -<p>Sir Arthur had now informed her that the sum the -committee proposed to offer for the Van Roon could -be invested to produce a thousand a year free of tax, -and he strongly urged its acceptance, as she would be -relieved of all money difficulties for the rest of her -life. To June it sounded fabulous. She knew in her -heart, besides, that she would never be able to take this -income for her own use. Every penny was William’s -and the task now before her was to bring home to -him this fact.</p> - -<p>It did not take long to prove to her this morning that -she was attempting the impossible. The thousand a -year, he declared, was hers and nothing would induce -him to touch a penny. Yielding in some ways, in others -as she had discovered already, for all his gentleness -he was a rock.</p> - -<p>Desperation now drove June to confess that she had -never intended to take the money. Even at the moment -she had filched the Van Roon from him with her -wicked pretences, at the back of her mind had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</span> -the wish to save him from himself. Always she had -regarded herself as the Van Roon’s trustee, so that he -should not be victimized by the cunning of Uncle Si, -just as Sir Arthur was its trustee now, so that neither -of them should be robbed by the cunning of the world.</p> - -<p>She found all too soon, however, that it was vain -to argue with him. What he had given, he had given. -As far as he was concerned, that was the end of the -whole matter.</p> - -<p>“Very well then,” said June vexedly, “if you won’t, -you won’t. And I shall present that picture to the -nation in your name, and then you won’t have a penny -to live on and you’ll have to go on working in a shop -all your life for a small wage to make other people -rich, instead of being able to study and travel and make -yourself a great artist.”</p> - -<p>She felt sure the half nelson was on him now. Even -he, dreamer that he was, must really bend to the force -of pure reasoning! Beyond a doubt she had got him. -But he was not playing quite fair it seemed. With -one of his little dancing blushes that would have been -deadly in a girl, he was forced to own that he had not -put all his cards on the table.</p> - -<p>To June’s sheer amazement he was keeping a little -matter of twelve hundred a year or so up his sleeve.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t know you had a rich aunt,” said June -amazedly.</p> - -<p>“Not my rich aunt. Your rich uncle.” The odd -creature grew tawnier, more girl-like than ever.</p> - -<p>June lacking a clue as yet could only frown. “Come -again. I don’t get you.” It was not the Miss Babraham -idiom, but with her patience giving out and a -new strength and sanity in her veins, she was in danger<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</span> -of forgetting, just for a moment, that she was an -honoured guest in the most famous Italian garden in -Surrey.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless in the very height of the eclipse a light -shone. One of the advantages of a mind really practical -is, that when it turns to financial matters, it works -automatically at very high pressure. June’s brow was -cleft with the harrow of thought. “Do you mean to -say,” she figured slowly out, “that Uncle Si has left -you all his property?”</p> - -<p>“His lawyers say so.” The voice of William had -a slight tremor.</p> - -<p>“If his lawyers say so it is so,” said June with imperious -finality.</p> - -<p>A pause of which a thrush, a blackbird and an entire -orchestra of skylarks took great advantage, came upon -these inheritors in spite of themselves; and then June -pensively remarked, a little in the manner of “Mr. -Leopold” asking the Head Cashier what Consols had -opened at this morning, “he must have bought some -property very lucky.”</p> - -<p>Quite simply William stated that such was the fact. -“The lawyers say that in 1895 he bought what they call -a block in New Cross Street, including Number 46, -and that it’s been going up and up ever since, so that -now it’s worth about eight times what he gave for it.”</p> - -<p>In sheer incredulity June stared at him. She must -be living in fairyland. And then the sun flamed out -from the merest apology for a cloud which was all the -April sky could boast at that moment and there came -an answering gleam from the burnished image before -her eyes in which they had lately planted a myrtle.</p> - -<p>“Much good it did him,” she said with a heavy sigh.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</span></p> - -<p>William never told June the story of the old man -lying dead before the Hoodoo, nor had he disclosed his -own indirect share in that tragic end. He did not do -so now, for this was not the time to enter into such an -unhappy matter. Yet without coming to details, June -seemed with that power of clairvoyance she had lately -acquired, to divine the whole pitiful business. “Miserable -old miser,” she said in a voice the birds could not -hear. “He must have died like a dog.”</p> - -<p>William’s tragic eyes could only be interpreted by -his own heart.</p> - -<p>A look so forlorn led June to notice the new lines -in his face and his smouldering depth of eye. “I believe -you were the only living thing he ever cared for, -and yet it used to make my blood boil the way he——” -The anguish in his eyes brought her up short.</p> - -<p>In went the sun, as quickly as it had come out. -<i>La Signora Aprile e volubile</i>, in England at any rate, -whatever her mood in more genial climes. June shivered -slightly as if a chill breath in the gentle wind had -touched her. She glanced at the new wrist watch, -whose acceptance William had craved two days before -she left the Hospital. Nearly one o’clock already and -it would never do to shew disrespect to Mrs. Chrystal’s -famous chicken-broth.</p> - -<p>They got up together, yet as they did so they felt -that the best of the spring day was fled. Now that the -sun had gone in, the Hoodoo yonder was monarch -once more of all he looked upon.</p> - -<p>What a thing life was! Yet by now both were wise -enough not to think too much about it. God knew it -could be ugly, but dwelling upon its complexities only -made them seem worse.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</span></p> - -<p>Besides there was no time for deep thoughts. It -was six minutes to one. Luncheon at the House, where -William, as became a man of acknowledged genius, was -an honoured guest, was sharp at the hour. The honoured -guest would only just have time to wash his -hands and brush his hair. And so he was not able to -accompany June along the rectangular path which led -from the main avenue direct to Mrs. Chrystal’s.</p> - -<p>Moreover she didn’t want him to. She understood -his hurry. Also he understood hers. Besides each -craved a moment, after all, to consider life and just -where they stood in it.</p> - -<p>“I have to rest this afternoon,” said June. “And I -suppose you have to get on with the cleaning of the -Mathew Thingamy. But if it’s as fine to-morrow -morning as it has been to-day, let us meet under this -tree about eleven. And then you can put in the last -touches while I read “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane -Austen that Miss Babraham’s lent me. Seems a bit old-fashioned, -but it’s classic of course. I dare say it’ll -improve as it gets better.”</p> - -<p>Whereon June took the bypath abruptly, and William, -his six minutes reduced to four, stepped out towards -the House. Life and its complexities did not -get therefore, much of a show at the moment, yet both -of them must have been giving these high matters some -little thought, for as June reached the eucalyptus tree -she halted and half-turned and looked just for one instant -back. And she found that William, now on a -level with the second Cupid on the main gravel, and his -four minutes reduced to three and a quarter, had also -halted, and half-turned to follow her example.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXIV">LXIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">J</span>une</span> always maintained that the Idea was William’s. -He, on the other hand, always maintained that the -Idea was hers. But whatever the truth of the matter -in its centrality, there was really no doubt that it was -Miss Babraham who thought of the car. To her alone -belonged that minor yet still substantial glory. As for -the luncheon basket, although that honour was claimed -for her as well, it may have owed something to Sir -Arthur, for June and William were agreed that the -weighty and practical genius of that man of the world -was visible in this important detail.</p> - -<p>It was just after nine on as promising a morning of -early May as the much and justly derided climate of -Britain was able to produce for a signal occasion, when -Mr. Mitchell the chauffeur in his livery of Robin Hood -green, with buff collar and cuffs, arrived at Mrs. -Chrystal’s door with Sir Arthur’s touring car. Inside, -as if to the manner born, sat William in a -fleecy grey ulster which June had no idea he possessed—and -for that matter it was Sir Arthur who possessed -it—and almost the last word in hats, which if you happened -to catch its wearer in profile, as June chanced -to do at the moment the car drew up, made him look -uncommonly distinguished.</p> - -<p>But so much depends, don’t you know, in these little -matters upon the angle—etc.</p> - -<p>“What time do you expect to be back, Mr. Mitchell?”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</span> -asked Mrs. Chrystal from her doorstep, as that hero, -a wisdom-bitten veteran of the Great War, which had -ended before William began—that is to say Class 1920 -was never called up—ushered June into the chariot -with rare solemnity.</p> - -<p>“Back did you say, ma’am?” said Mr. Mitchell closing -the door gently upon the travellers. “There you -have me. We’ve to go as fur as the heart o’ Suffolk -and back again.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Chrystal knew that. Hence the question.</p> - -<p>“Accordin’ to this map,” Mr. Mitchell pointed to -the canvas back of Road Guide Number 6, Series 14, -which was on the vacant seat beside his own, “Crowdham -Market may take a bit o’ findin’. Still if the -roads are all right, I dessay we’ll be home by the risin’ -o’ the moon.”</p> - -<p>“My reason for asking is that I’m wondering about -the young lady’s supper. However, I’ll expect you -when I see you, because as you say Crowdham Market -may be a funny place to get at.”</p> - -<p>In the opinion of June, who heard this conversation, -Mrs. Chrystal was fully justified in thinking so. They -were about to start on a journey to Cloud Cuckoo -Land.</p> - -<p>A very romantic journey it was. Up hill and down -dale they went, by devious lanes and unsuspected ways -across a noble sweep of country. Zephyrs played gently -upon their faces; the sun shone, the birds sang; the -smooth-gliding car made little dust and less noise; they -sat side by side; it was a royal progress.</p> - -<p>The Idea itself was William’s, June always maintained, -that they should go to Crowdham Market and -find the poor old woman who kept the tumbledown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</span> -shop, where perhaps as much out of pity as anything, -he had given five shillings for the Van Roon. They -could well afford to make her comfortable for life with -an annuity, the precise amount of which Sir Arthur -might be asked to fix if they could not themselves -agree upon it. Indeed the whole question of the Van -Roon’s fabulous proceeds was still vexed. Neither -would move an inch. June still vowed she would not -touch the money. William vowed that he would not -touch it either, but he had gone so far as to suggest that -he should buy the thing back from her with a part of the -property her uncle had left him. To this property he -somehow felt he had no lawful claim; yet by means of -it he would be able to add, free gratis and for nothing, -one masterpiece the more to “his treasure house” in -Trafalgar Square.</p> - -<p>June, with the frankness for which she was famous, -did not hesitate to denounce the scheme as crazy. Even -the Sir Arthur Babrahams of the world, who were -simply rolling in money, thought twice about giving -fortunes away. What did he suppose was going to -become of his career as an artist if he stripped himself -of the means of pursuing it?</p> - -<p>That, of course, was where she had him. And as -they sat side by side on this golden journey to East -Anglia, they divided the forenoon between admiring -the scenery and discussing the problem in all its aspects.</p> - -<p>“You talk of France and Spain and Italy.” The -note of scorn was mellowed considerably by the romance -of the occasion. “You talk of studying the pictures -in the Louvre and the Prado and the Uffizi Gallery.” -She had really got to grips with Culture now. -With an indomitable will, an inflexible ambition and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</span> -a brand new course of memory training to help her; -she was not only learning to remember outlandish -words, but how and when and in what order to use -them. “You talk of Rembrandt and Titian and -Velasky, but I’m thinking those foreign landladies’ll -get your size before you can say Knife. My opinion -is you’ll need somebody <i>always</i> with you to see that -they don’t take it off you.”</p> - -<p>“Take what off me, Miss June?” inquired His -Innocence.</p> - -<p>There was a question!</p> - -<p>“Your pram, of course, your teddy bear, and your -feeding bottle.” She added the opprobrious term “You -Gaby!” not however for the ear of this Dreamer, but -for the benefit of the pleasant town of Malden, on -whose outskirts they were already.</p> - -<p>“When you get to Paris and find yourself in the -Prado studying Paul Very-uneasy, you’ll be lucky if -you get away with as much as a bootlace. Mr. Boultby -used to say French landladies were awful.”</p> - -<p>“Did he,” said the Dreamer; and then with a sudden -animation: “Do you see that water wagtail on the lip -of that pool?”</p> - -<p>June pointedly ignored the water wagtail.</p> - -<p>“You ought to have somebody to look after you -when you go to Paris—somebody who understands -the value of money.”</p> - -<p>“The less value money has for an artist the better,” -said William the sententious.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Boultby would call that poppycock,” said June, -equally sententious.</p> - -<p>What William really meant to say was that the less -an artist thought about money the better for his art,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</span> -that an artist painted better for love than for filthy -lucre and so on, that the great masters were born poor -as a rule and often died poor and that nothing was so -likely as money to distract the mind from the quest -of beauty.</p> - -<p>These, to be sure, were not his exact words. His -thoughts were clothed more neatly in the William way. -But such was the sum and substance of what they came -down to, and June was so pained by his line of argument -that the contents of the luncheon basket on the -opposite seat were needed to sustain her.</p> - -<p>After patiently reasoning with such wrong-headedness, -she looked at her watch and found it was one -o’clock. As there was never a sign at present of -Crowdham Market, they decided to begin on what the -gods had provided. Egg and tomato sandwiches were -at the top of the basket with a layer of ham underneath, -and below that a most authentic cake with -almonds in it; all of which were delicious.</p> - -<p>The meal, if anything, was even better than the -conversation, though that also was on an extremely -high level. They were very honourable in their dealings -with the luncheon basket. Share and share alike -was the order of the day, with a third share of everything -religiously laid by for Mr. Mitchell whenever he -might feel justified in slowing up to eat it. Even a -full third of the basket’s crowning glory was laid by -for Mr. Mitchell—to wit, a large vacuum flask of -coffee, piping hot.</p> - -<p>It was a few minutes after two when they reached -Crowdham Market and drew up at the Unicorn Inn. -Here, six months ago, William had discussed the great -drought with Miss Ferris, the landlady’s daughter, one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</span> -of those high-coloured girls who June could see at a -glance was a minx.</p> - -<p>Promising to be back in an hour, which was all that -Mr. Mitchell could allow if they were to be home before -the rising of the moon, June and William, feeling more -romantic than ever before in their lives, set out on a -pilgrimage up the High Street. It was the only street -in the town which aspired to a sense of importance; -the point in fact towards which all meaner streets converged. -One of these it was they had now to find.</p> - -<p>Alas, from the outset there was a grave doubt in the -mind of William in the matter of his bearings. To the -best of his recollection the old woman’s shop was either -the second or third turning up, then to the left, then -across, and then to the left again into an obscure alley -of which he had forgotten the name. That was like -him. In June’s private opinion, it was also like him, -although <i>lèse-majesté</i> of course, to let him know it, to -take her to look for a serendipity shop in a bottle of -hay.</p> - -<p>William knew neither the name of the old woman, -nor the byway that had contained her, and in the -course of half an hour’s meandering it grew clear to -the practical mind of June that she was in serious -danger of having to go without her annuity. Having -come so far it would be humiliating to return with a -tale of total defeat; yet up till now these emotions had -been held in check by the romance of the case.</p> - -<p>Mr. Mitchell’s hour was all but sped, when William -stopped abruptly. Light had come. He had hit the -trail.</p> - -<p>At the corner of the lane into which for the third -time they had penetrated, was an enticing little shop<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</span> -called Middleton’s Dairy. The sight of it brought back -to William’s mind a recollection. Immediately the picture -had been acquired, he went into that shop to get -a bun and a glass of milk. Pausing a moment to -wrestle with his sense of locality, he gazed down the -street. The old woman’s store would be just opposite.</p> - -<p>Only a glance was needed to show that the old -woman’s store was not just opposite. The housebreakers -had been recently at work and the decrepit block -of which her premises formed a part was razed to the -ground.</p> - -<p>Faced by the problem of what had happened to the -old woman the only thing now was to enter Middleton’s -Dairy and enquire. They were cordially received -by a girl who in June’s opinion showed too many teeth -when she smiled to be really good looking; who, also, -in June’s opinion, wore corsets that didn’t suit her -figure, and whose hair would have looked better had -it been bobbed.</p> - -<p>Like Miss Ferris, the landlady’s daughter, this girl -seemed to remember William quite well, which was -rather odd June felt, since he had only been once in -the town previously and then for but a few hours. The -inference to be drawn from the fact was that William -was William, and that in an outlandish one-horse place -like Crowdham Market, young men of his quality were -necessarily at a premium.</p> - -<p>But at the moment that was neither here nor there. -And with equal truth the formula applied to the old -woman. However, in regard to her it seemed, they -were now in the way of getting information.</p> - -<p>After William, with a certain particularity had described -the old creature and her shop to the girl who<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</span> -kept on showing her teeth while he did so, he was informed -that she was known among the neighbours as -Mother Stark. And the poor old thing, the girl understood, -had been turned out of house and home because -she could no longer pay her rates and taxes.</p> - -<p>“Half her side of the Lane’s pulled down,” said -June, who now came into the conversation on a note -of slight asperity.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” said Miss Smiler, to William rather than -to June, “the site has been bought by a company.”</p> - -<p>“Putting a museum on it I suppose,” said June.</p> - -<p>“No, not a museum,” said Miss Smiler in a level -voice ignoring June’s irony either because she did not -see it, or because she did, which in any case perhaps -was just as well for her.</p> - -<p>“A chicken run?” June surmised with a disdainful -eye upon a nice basket of new laid eggs, five for a -shilling.</p> - -<p>No, the site had not been acquired for a chicken run. -Miss Smiler understood they were going to build a -picture house.</p> - -<p>June gazed solemnly at William. And her gaze was -frankly and faithfully returned. A picture house on -the spot where a Van Roon had lain hidden and unknown -for who knew how many years!</p> - -<p>What a world it was! Could Mother Stark but have -guessed she would not have needed a Company to take -over her premises.</p> - -<p>“What’s become of her? Can you tell us?” said -June.</p> - -<p>“Had to go to the Workhouse, I believe, poor soul,” -said the girl, who had a good heart.</p> - -<p>June looked at William. William looked at June.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</span></p> - -<p>“Is the Workhouse far from here—please can you -tell us?” It was William who asked the question.</p> - -<p>The Workhouse, it seemed, was not far. In fact -it was quite near. To get there you had only to go to -the end of the lane, turn to the left, cross the recreation -ground and the footbridge over the canal, and keep on -bearing to the left and you couldn’t miss it.</p> - -<p>“Will it take long?” The question was June’s. And -a glance at her wrist accompanied it.</p> - -<p>“Not more than five minutes.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you very much indeed. We are greatly -obliged to you.” William it was who brought the conversation -to a climax with a lift of the hat.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXV">LXV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>here</span> was only one thing to be done now. Mr. -Mitchell’s hour was up, but there was no help for -it. The Workhouse, as the girl had said—she might, -in June’s opinion have had a claim to good looks if she -had not suffered from “a rush of teeth to the head”—was -not more than five minutes away if you followed -her instructions.</p> - -<p>As June had the matter in hand, the instructions -were followed to the letter and they arrived at the -Workhouse without delay. But as the pile, dark and -grim, came into view at the far side of the canal, an -odd emotion suddenly brought them up with a round -turn.</p> - -<p>A long moment they gazed at the bleak and frowning -thing before their eyes. And then June said with a -laugh, “I’m thinking that’s where you’ll be one day, -if you don’t find someone who isn’t a genius to look -after you.”</p> - -<p>The words came from the heart, yet William did -not appear to hear them. “Reminds one,” he murmured -half to himself, “of that little thing of Duclaux’s -called The Poor House.”</p> - -<p>June’s puzzlement was revealed by a frown.</p> - -<p>“There’s an exhibition of his pictures just now at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</span> -the Bond Street Gallery. Wonderful line. A great -sense of mass effect.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t tell me,” said June, “there’s beauty in a -thing like that—in that old Workhouse?”</p> - -<p>“Duclaux would say so, with that dark cloud cutting -across the gable. And that bend of the Canal in the -foreground is not without value.” He smiled his rare -smile which never had looked so divine. But June was -a little afraid of it now. She kept her eyes the other -way.</p> - -<p>“Canal,” she said with brevity. “Not without value. -I should say so. As we say at Blackhampton, ‘where -there’s muck there’s money.’”</p> - -<p>She glanced at her wrist again. Another ten minutes -credited now to Mr. Mitchell’s account.</p> - -<p>“Duclaux, I suppose, would see it this way.” The -queer fellow stepped back two paces, put up his hand -to shade his eyes and adjust his vision to look at the -Workhouse.</p> - -<p>This was Pure Pottiness, the concentrated essence in -tabloid form. However, Miss Babraham had already -impressed upon June the deep truth that genius must -be allowed a margin.</p> - -<p>A little faint of heart she rang the bell of the gloomy -and forbidding door. The summons was heeded, -tardily and with reluctance, by its janitor, a surly -male.</p> - -<p>“Can we see Mrs. Stark?” asked June.</p> - -<p>“Eh?” said the janitor. He must have been deaf -indeed not to have heard the question in its cool clarity. -June repeated it; whereon the keeper of the door looked -her slowly up and down, turning over the name in his -mind as he did so.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</span></p> - -<p>“Mother Stark she was called,” said June, for his -further enlightenment. “She sold all kinds of old rubbish -at a shop that used to be opposite Middleton’s -Dairy at the top of Love Lane.”</p> - -<p>“Mother Stark you say!” Light was coming to the -janitor. “No, you can’t see her.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? The matter’s important.”</p> - -<p>“She’s been in her grave this two month—that’s why -not,” said the janitor.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said June; and then after brief commerce with -the eye of William: “Has she any relations or friends?”</p> - -<p>The answer was no. Mother Stark had had a parish -burial.</p> - -<p>William thanked Diogenes with that courtesy which -was never-failing and inimitable; and then after one -more swift glance at each other, they turned away, -feeling somehow, a little overcome, yet upheld by the -knowledge of being through at last with the matter of -the poor old thing’s annuity.</p> - -<p>Returning in their tracks across the canal footbridge, -across the recreation ground, up the lane, past the site -of the new picture house, past Middleton’s Dairy, they -entered the High Street, without haste, in spite of -Mr. Mitchell, and with a gravity new and strange, -as if they both felt now the hand of destiny upon -them.</p> - -<p>Heedless of all the Mr. Mitchells in the universe, -they walked very slowly to draw out the last exquisite -drop of a moment of bliss that, no matter what life -had in store, they could never forget. And then for -some mystic reason, June’s brain grew incandescent. It -became a thing of dew and fire. Ideas formed within -it, broke from it, took shape in the ambient air. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</span> -might have been treading the upper spaces of Elysium, -except that no girl’s feet were ever planted more firmly -or more shrewdly upon the pavement of High Street, -Crowdham Market.</p> - -<p>Four doors from the Unicorn Inn was the most -fashionable jeweller’s shop in the town, perhaps for -the reason that there was no other; and as they came -level with the window a spark flashed from its depths -and met an instant answer in the eye of June. Nearly -an hour behind the schedule they were now, yet they -lingered one moment more, while June drew William’s -attention to a coincidence. The vital spark it seemed, -owed its being to a gem set in a ring which was almost -a replica of the one worn by Miss Babraham in honor -of its giver, who of course was a gentleman in the -Blues.</p> - -<p>“It’s as like Miss Babraham’s engagement ring as -one pea is like another pea,” said June in a soft voice.</p> - -<p>In the course of their friendship, William had been -guilty of many silences of a disgraceful impersonality; -and he was now guilty of one more. He glanced at -the ring with a wistful eye, sighed a little, and then -with slow reluctance moved on. June accompanied -him to the very threshold of the Unicorn Inn. And -upon its doorstep of all places, within hearing of the -Office, wherein lurked Miss Ferris, the landlady’s -daughter, he faced about, and then by way of an after-thought, -his head apparently still full of Duclaux, began -to stammer.</p> - -<p>“Miss June if I go back and get that ring will you—will -you promise—to—to——?”</p> - -<p>Miss Ferris was in the Office; the top of her coiffure -was to be seen above the frosted glass. And the Office<span class="pagenum" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</span> -door was wide open; June, therefore, gave her answer -in a very low and gentle voice.</p> - -<p>Her answer, for all that, did not lack pith. “If only -you’ll cut out the Miss, I’ll wear it like Miss Babraham—on -my heart finger.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXVI">LXVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">B</span>ack</span> they went to the jeweller’s four doors up. -To the expert eye of William, the ring on inspection -was so little like Miss Babraham’s that he seemed -to have a qualm about buying it. He had a fancy for -moonstones and diamonds, but Crowdham Market’s -only jeweller did not run to these. June was firm, besides, -that the ring in her hand was cheap at nine -guineas, and as no one could call it vulgar, it was -quite good enough.</p> - -<p>William was sure it was nothing like good enough. -“But when we get to London, you shall have moonstones -and diamonds.”</p> - -<p>“That’ll be lovely,” said June; and a deep thrill ran -in her heart as she realized that her dreams were coming -true.</p> - -<p>William took a wad of Bradburys from his breast -pocket. He was now a man of property, with a rent -roll of twelve hundred a year, but even a most careful -counting would not let them muster more than seven. -June, however, as became the lawful owner of an Old -Master, whom to acquire for the nation a committee -had been lately formed, was equal to the occasion. -For she promptly took a wad from the vanity bag -which now graced her travels instead of her mother’s -old purse, and made up the sum.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, the jeweller, a man of ripe experience, -had put two and two together.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</span></p> - -<p>“Will you wear it, madam, or will you have it -packed in the box?”</p> - -<p>An unconventional question, no doubt, but places -like Crowdham Market are close to nature and get -down to bedrock by short cuts.</p> - -<p>“I’ll wear it,” June answered. “And I’ll have the -box as well. It’ll do for my dressing table to keep -pins in.”</p> - -<p>The jeweller, one of the old school, bowed to June -as he handed her the box and also the change. And -then, a jeweller with a fine technique, he smiled at -William in a Masonic manner and handed him the -ring.</p> - -<p>June, as cool as if she was on parade, removed a -white kid glove from her left hand. “That’s the heart -finger,” she said.</p> - -<p>If she blushed a little, the jeweller was too busy -writing out the receipt at the other end of the shop to -be aware of the fact.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="LXVII">LXVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap"><span class="dropcap">T</span>hey</span> decided to ask Miss Ferris, the landlady’s -daughter, for a cup of tea, before they set out -on the journey home. June felt she could afford to -take the risk, since by now the situation was well in -hand. Mr. Mitchell raised no objection. Himself an -ampler man for a noble lunch, he had been recounting -tales of Araby and lands of fair renown in the privacy -of the Office. His suit of Robin Hood green and a -certain gallantry of bearing had made considerable impact -in an amazingly short time, not upon Miss -Ferris merely, but upon her widowed mother, the sole -proprietress of the Unicorn Inn, who in the words of -the local manager of the East Anglia and Overtons -Bank “was the warmest woman in Crowdham Market.”</p> - -<p>While Mr. Mitchell (Sergeant, R.E., D.C.M. with -clasp), and the widow were in the garden admiring the -early pansies, June and William sat down to tea in the -coffee room. Even there the contiguity of Miss Ferris -had rather a tendency to cramp June’s style. High-coloured -girl, she was a little inclined to take liberties -as she passed around the table. And when June, in -her sweetest and best Miss Babraham manner, asked -if they might have some crab apple jam, she caught the -glint of the ring on June’s heart finger in a way so -direct that she murmured something about having to -look out for her eyesight—or words equally ill-bred—and -nearly dropped the tea pot.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</span></p> - -<p>By the time they got under way and the nose of the -car was set for the pleasant land of Surrey, a doubt -infected the mind of Mr. Mitchell as to whether they -would make Homefield before midnight. Neither -June nor William seemed to care very much whether -they did or whether they didn’t. The car was most -comfortable, the sense of romance hot upon them still, -the presence of each other vital and delicious in their -consciousness. Mile passed upon mile. The endless -spool of road continued to unwind itself, a little wind -breathed gentle nothings, Mr. Mitchell sat four-square -in front, the birds still sang, but the sun was going -down.</p> - -<p>Saying very little, they lived never-to-be-forgotten -hours. Now and again William pointed to a bird or a -tree, the fold of a hill, the form of a cloud, the gleam -of a distant water. Yet for the most part the nearness -of each other was all sufficing. June began to nestle -closer; the chill of night came on. Saying less than -ever now, moonstones and diamonds stole upon her -thoughts. She was haunted by a lovely fear that she -could not live up to them. And then softly and more -soft, she began to breathe with a rhythmical rise and -fall, slowly deepening to a faint crescendo that blended -with the motions of the car.</p> - -<p>East by west of nowhere came the high moment -when the sun was not, and the moon not yet. Somewhere -over Surrey a star was dancing. Very shyly -and gently he ventured to give her a kiss. She stirred -ever so little. A bird spoke from a brake, a note clear -and wonderful, yet the month was young for the -nightingale. But this was Cloud Cuckoo Land, a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</span> -divine country in which the nightingale may be heard -at odd seasons.</p> - -<p>Psyche stirred again. With a reverence chaste and -simple he gave her a second kiss, deep and slow. The -solemn sacrament was fire to the soul of an artist. And -then he gave a little gasp. The high gods in his brain -whispered that the moon was coming.</p> - -<p>The moon was coming.</p> - -<p>Yes, there she was, the sovereign lady! He sat very -still, praying, praying that he might surprise some holy -secret, hidden even from Duclaux.</p> - -<p>She was very wonderful to-night. Her loveliness -was more than he could bear. There was a touch of -intimacy in her magic; the country over which she -shone was elfland. He seemed to hear a faint familiar -sound of horns. Or it might have been the swift -gliding of the car.</p> - -<p>In the quietness of the spirit’s ecstasy he could have -wept.</p> - -<p>Might it be given to Duclaux to see her, lovely lady, -just as he could see her now!</p> - -<p>But he mustn’t dare to breathe or the vision would -be forever lost.</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="adblock"> -<p class="ph2">NOVELS BY J. C. SNAITH</p> - - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE VAN ROON</b></p> - -<p>A remarkable novel, human to its very core, which -tells of how a painting by an old master, newly discovered, -became a cause of love and hate among a -curious and delightful group of characters.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE COUNCIL OF SEVEN</b></p> - -<p>International mystery in which seven men come to -grips with a war-preaching newspaper-syndicate. The -hero, typical Snaith character, fights boldly against -strangling intrigue.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE UNDEFEATED</b></p> - -<p>“It is distinctly a big novel—a book of vision and of -understanding, of truth and beauty.”—<i>New York Times.</i></p> - -<p>“The simplest and straightest work imaginable and -mightily impressive.”—<i>Washington Star.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE SAILOR</b></p> - -<p>“It is a book that overwhelms the reader by the -poignant and magnificent message that it carries. It -is a book that is unforgettable.”—<i>Springfield Union.</i></p> - -<p>“Interpretative, creative work of a very high order.”—<i>New -York Times.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE ADVENTUROUS LADY</b></p> - -<p>A sparkling social comedy, top-full of delightful situations -and characters, seasoned with incomparable -humor and youthful buoyancy.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE TIME SPIRIT</b></p> - -<p>“The verbal fencing, sparkling colloquy and keen, -swift repartee alone raise the story far above the dead -level of society fiction.”—<i>Philadelphia North American.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE COMING</b></p> - -<p>“Mr. Snaith handles his theme delicately, poetically, -with a fine and sensitive reverence.”—<i>Independent.</i></p> - -<p>“It is a daring performance of impressive and triumphant -strength.”—<i>New York Tribune.</i></p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="center no-indent">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -New York      London<br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="adblock"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak">A CHOICE SHELF OF NOVELS</p> - - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="no-indent"><b>ABBÉ PIERRE</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By JAY WILLIAM HUDSON</p> - -<p>This charming novel of life in quaint Gascony is -proving that a novel that is a work of truest art can -be a best seller of the widest popularity.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>WAY OF REVELATION</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By WILFRID EWART</p> - -<p>A realistic novel of the great war which presents with -startling truth and accuracy the effect of the conflict -upon a group of intensely interesting characters.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE MERCY OF ALLAH</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By HILAIRE BELLOC, Author of “The Path to -Rome,” etc.</p> - -<p>A brilliant and highly entertaining satire on modern -business, which tells of how Mahmoud, by the Mercy -of Allah and his own keen wits, accumulated a vast -fortune.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE RICH LITTLE POOR BOY</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By ELEANOR GATES, Author of “The Poor Little -Rich Girl,” etc.</p> - -<p>A whimsical, humorous fantasy of a poor little boy’s -search for happiness.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>MOTHER</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By MAXIM GORKY. Introduction by Charles Edward -Russell.</p> - -<p>Wide interest is being displayed in Gorky’s story of -Russia before the Revolution.</p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="center no-indent">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -New York      London<br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="adblock"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak">AMONG THE NEWEST NOVELS</p> - - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE HOUSE OF MOHUN</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By GEORGE GIBBS, Author of “Youth Triumphant,” -etc.</p> - -<p>A distinguished novel depicting present day society -and its most striking feature, the “flapper.” A story -of splendid dramatic qualities.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>THE COVERED WAGON</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By EMERSON HOUGH, Author of “The Magnificent -Adventure,” “The Story of the Cowboy,” etc.</p> - -<p>A novel of the first water, clear and clean, is this -thrilling story of the pioneers, the men and women who -laid the foundation of the great west.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>HOMESTEAD RANCH</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By ELIZABETH G. YOUNG</p> - -<p>The <i>New York Times</i> says that “Homestead Ranch” -is one of the season’s “two best real wild and woolly -western yarns.” The <i>Boston Herald</i> says, “So delightful -that we recommend it as one of the best western -stories of the year.”</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>SACRIFICE</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By STEPHEN FRENCH WHITMAN, Author of -“Predestined,” etc.</p> - -<p>How a woman, spoiled child of New York society, -faced the dangers of the African jungle trail. “One -feels ever the white heat of emotional conflict.”—<i>Philadelphia -Public Ledger.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>DOUBLE-CROSSED</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By W. DOUGLAS NEWTON, Author of “Low Ceilings,” -etc.</p> - -<p>“An excellently written and handled tale of adventure -and thrills in the dark spruce valleys of Canada.”—<i>New -York Times.</i></p> - -<p class="no-indent"><b>JANE JOURNEYS ON</b></p> - -<p class="no-indent">By RUTH COMFORT MITCHELL, Author of “Play -the Game,” etc.</p> - -<p>The cheerful story of a delightful heroine’s adventures -from Vermont to Mexico.</p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="center no-indent">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -New York      London<br /> -</p></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak"><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes:</span></p> - - -<p>On page 10, finger-nail has been changed to finger nail.</p> - -<p>On page 15, packing-case has been changed to packing case.</p> - -<p>On page 31, “top if” has been changed to “top of”.</p> - -<p>On page 70, “was not be” has been changed to “was not to be”.</p> - -<p>On page 73, “severity that” has been changed to “severity than”.</p> - -<p>On page 75, once side has been changed to one side.</p> - -<p>On page 111, none-such has been changed to non-such.</p> - -<p>On pages 154 and 194, Jane has been changed to June.</p> - -<p>On page 189, shop-door has been changed to shop door.</p> - -<p>On page 258, that has been changed to than.</p> - -<p>On page 319, being has been changed to been.</p> - -<p>On page 321, Jane Eliot has been changed to Jane Austen.</p> - -<p>Minor, quiet corrections have been made to punctuation, -to conform to common usage.</p> - -<p>All other hyphenation, variant and archaic spellings -and accented dialogue have been retained.</p></div> -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE VAN ROON ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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