"M. Demetrius! Are you mad?"
"Not Constantine, then." He panted like a spent runner, and his face twisted in a wry smile.
"What do you mean?"
Demetrius dropped heavily into the nearest chair, and sent angry, inquiring glances into every corner. "Where is he?"
"Where is who?"
"Oh, madame"--he became sarcastic here--"you know very well, I think."
"I know nothing, save that you are foolish to venture into Paris, where there is a price on your head. M. Aksakoff is here, too; if he knew--if he guessed."
"Well, what matter? I have run greater risks for lesser reasons."
"Yet they must be strong ones in the present instance, to make you enter the bear's den."
"I have one reason for my venture, madame--you; and another--Mr. Askew; not to speak of a third--this marriage at your Embassy."
"I can understand the first; the second may be explained by wholly unnecessary jealousy; but the final one--this marriage you speak of?"
"Between yourself and Mr. Askew."
Lady Jim stared, then laughed good-humouredly. "My dear Constantine, the idea is too ridiculous."
"I have the news on good authority."
"Which is the last authority you should believe. Mr. Askew is certainly here; but not, I believe, in the character of a bridegroom."
"Mrs. Penworthy"
"Oh!" Leah's scorn was worthy of the great Sarah. "Mrs.--Penworthy?"
"She told me that you came here; that Mr. Askew followed----"
"Forty-eight hours later. Quite correct."
"And that you intended to marry him at the British Embassy."
"Really! I never knew that Mrs. Penworthy was imaginative."
"It is not true!" His eye probed her.
She did not flinch. "You must be mad to think so."
"It is not true?" he persisted.
"You yourself have denied the truth of it twice. Mr. Askew at this moment dances round Miss Tallentire's skirts. Would I permit that, if----? Oh, ridiculous! You men swallow camels."
Her dupe rose to pace the room, and to pour out the anger of many brooding hours. "It is not true--ah, if I could only be sure of that. This woman--this Mrs. Penworthy--she swore--swore--that you--that you----" He choked, flung himself headlong to where she smiled contemptuous, and seized her hands vehemently. "Swear that it is false!" He dropped on his knees, almost tearful.
"I do swear," rejoined Leah, disengaging her wrists. "You can take Mr. Askew back to London if you like. He is engaged to marry a lady in South America. There is nothing between us--nothing. A flirtation, yes; banter and pretty smiles, idle nothings and surface conversations." She smoothed back his hair and smiled playfully. "Am I marrying Othello?"
"You are so beautiful," he muttered, wavering.
"In your eyes, no doubt. Mr. Askew prefers brunettes south of the Equator. But!"--she rose suddenly, as though she spurned him--but "I prefer trust. I am angry--yes, very angry. Oh, that you should doubt me--doubt me!" Her tragic assertion was admirable.
"I do not--I do not;" and he still grovelled, catching at her dress.
"Your presence here proves otherwise. Mr. Askew, indeed--a general lover, a volatile sailor with a wife in every port for all I know. Can you not credit me with more exclusive tastes?"
"He is handsome," muttered the still suspicious doctor, and rose, brushing his knees mechanically.
"Is he? So you think I am to be won by looks, like a schoolmiss in her teens;" she looked at his sharp white face, and laughed cruelly. "That I am engaged to you should prove differently."
He scarcely heeded her. "Swear! Swear!" and his eyes flamed.
Leah, calculating the effect, lost her temper. "I shall in a moment," she cried angrily. "The most patient of women--of whom I am not one--have their limits. Why do you allow jealousy to overrule common sense, when the position is so plain? You fixed your price and fulfilled your part of the bargain. Am I, I ask you, free to play you this trick of a hasty marriage, when you can expose me as privy to a fraud? You see that I do not mince matters; I speak plainly, do I not? You have all the winning cards, and can compel me to become your wife, even if I dissented. Why, then, do you come here on a fool's errand?"
"But I love you so," he protested piteously.
"And love, being blind, makes you stumble into danger. I think you had better return to England by the night train."
"Am I to leave you with Mr. Askew?"
"Oh, take him with you; I gave you permission before. And pray don't make scenes--I dislike them."
"Then I am wrong?"
"Faugh! If you doubt my word, perhaps you will take Mr. Askew's. He will be here soon with Miss Tallentire. I decline to defend a position which requires no defence."
A shrug ended this speech, and this, in conjunction with the anger brightening her hard blue eyes, reduced him to profuse apologies.
"But indeed, my soul, you should not be enraged; that I should risk what I do risk surely proves my love for you."
"You have proved it before by getting me the insurance money," she replied impatiently; "pray return at once. I can see you in Curzon Street when I return on Tuesday."
"Then you promise to marry me."
"Yes!" Leah heaved a sigh of exhaustion. "How often do you wish me to say so? Even if you remain Dr. Demetrius I am bound to become your wife, seeing that you hold my reputation in your hands. Though of course," she added sweetly, "I expect to be Princess Constantine Demetrius."
"I am willing--believe me, I am willing," he stuttered, now quite positive that Mrs. Penworthy was a liar of the worst. "Aksakoff----"
"What of him?"
"Did you not say that he would aid me to regain my position, if I gave up Katinka?"
"He said something like that," she rejoined carelessly, and wondering why at this moment he recalled the proposition. "But I rather fancy his offer was merely to leave you alone."
Demetrius looked silently at the carpet. Leah watched him with a doubtful look, on her guard against complications. He looked up suddenly, and with rather a shamed face. "Certainly I could secure the services of Mademoiselle Aksakoff," he murmured; "but it seems cruel to use her influence and then to leave her. She loves me. Ah, yes, she loves me very truly, and I--I treat her most badly."
"If you think so, why not make amends and marry her?"
"Because I love you, and at great risk I have bought you." He glared at her savagely. "I refuse to let you go; you are mine--mine."
"I never denied that," said Lady Jim, dryly; "but I really cannot accompany you to Siberia, and if you remain here----"
"Wait!" He flung up an imperative hand. "I shall see Aksakoff."
This sounded almost too good to be true, and Leah doubted. "No!"
"Yes. Ah, my adored, I know how you feel for my safety;" his voice took on a caressing tone. "But--it is nothing;" he brushed away imaginary danger with a rapid gesture. "I shall see him. I shall plainly surrender Katinka, and then--then, when he knows that we--you and I--are to marry, he will interest himself with the Czar, on our--you mark me, my angel--on our behalf."
"It's a mad idea, impracticable. You dare not trust Aksakoff."
"Ah, bah! He will not arrest me publicly--he cannot. The scandal--the diplomatic storm--the newspapers. No, no!--it is too absurd. Besides"--he shrugged--"this tender father will repay me if I give his daughter to understand that we can never marry. He desires her to be the Countess Paul Petrovitch."
"Hum!" said Lady Jim, rejoicing that the prisoner judiciously saw to the closing of the door, before turning to meet Aksakoff's inquiring gaze. "You approve of a full table, madame?"
"There is safety in numbers," she assured him.
"For M. Demetrius?"
Leah resumed her seat with raised eyebrows. "I fear you will think me dull, M. Aksakoff, but I do not understand."
The diplomatist bowed an apology. He had forgotten that even in private her comedy was to be played by the book. The conversation of the next few minutes he foresaw very plainly. She would play round the reason for their meeting, without coming to grips, mysteriously conveying her meaning in speeches which she did not mean. Only a politician of Aksakoff's subtlety would have understood the unsaid from what she now proceeded to say.
"Besides"--she was continuing the speech interrupted by his bow--"you promised that no harm should come to the doctor."
"Madame, I renew that promise."
"I hope so; otherwise, I shall regret having consented to this meeting."
"Yet I understood that M. Demetrius desired it."
"That is no reason why I should consent."
"Possibly not. Still, as a peacemaker----"
"You put me into the Beatitudes, then?"
"Why not, if you achieve your object in reconciling enemies?"
"The signing of the treaty depends upon you, M. Aksakoff."
"Consider it signed--on conditions."
"Which means that it is not signed. H'm! M. Demetrius is anxious, even willing, to renounce your daughter."
A dull red stained Aksakoff's opaque skin. "How flattering to my fatherly pride! There is, then"--the hint was delicate--"another?"
Lady Jim retorted in kind. "So you said at Monte Carlo."
"Mademoiselle Ninette? I believe I did. She lured him to Paris, then?"
"How should I know? He has never mentioned the creature's name to me, nor would he dare to. He came, so he declares, to see me."
"On matters connected with your recent loss, no doubt."
"It is more than probable."
Her avoidance of the necessary topic exasperated him. Sharp words were on the tip of his tongue, but wisdom withheld them. His accomplice was not the woman to yield to dominance, and the merest hint of its exercise might, probably would, engender wrath likely to jeopardise the almost achieved plot. Money or no money--Aksakoff still ascribed mercenary reasons--her pride would never bend to the yoke of advice. To be silent was his second thought, and silent he became. This, it would seem, was wise, since she began to explain, Aksakoff paying out liberally the necessary rope that she might hang herself.
"M. Demetrius is unwise to come here. I told him so; yes, I confess--remember my warning--that I betrayed you. All the same--very foolishly, I think--he insisted upon an immediate meeting, to recover his birthright, he says. Can you arrange for the rehabilitation, of this exiled Esau?"
A faint smile played round the diplomatist's thin lips, "I can!"
"And you will?"
"Assuredly, if M. Demetrius disabuses Katinka of her infatuation."
"That is his affair and yours. No doubt"--she spoke meaningly--"you will wish to speak to him privately?"
"There is no need, madame, seeing that you are in his confidence, and in mine. Besides"--very slowly--"we can converse over our tea."
Lady Jim's nerves jumped. "Over tea," she echoed equally slowly--"tea, after luncheon?"
"It is a Russian custom. M. Demetrius and I are Russians. Still, if the suggestion appears presumptuous"--he waved his hand with assumed deprecation--"I withdraw it and apologise."
"No!" She passed her tongue over dry, white lips, and answered faintly. "You shall have your--tea." Then, rising hurriedly, she made for the near window on an obvious excuse. "I do not see him coming."
As plainly as though Aksakoff had put it into words did Lady Jim know that he intended to drug their victim. What would occur if this plotter succeeded she did not know; what might occur she shivered to think of, and the thought made her rash. "The police!" she murmured, turning from the window.
M. Aksakoff joined her, adjusting his pince-nez leisurely, and proceeded to look up and down the street, two stories below. "I do not see the police, madame. But what a delightful day! I trust the night will be equally mild, since I journey to Havre."
"You go to Havre--to-night?" breathed Leah, not yet herself.
"By a moderately late train. My cousin, Count Petrovitch, is there with his yacht. We have to talk about his possible marriage with my daughter, before he leaves to-morrow for Kronstadt."
"Oh!" sighed Lady Jim, very white. "How--how--amusing!" and after misusing the word, she went back to her chair with geographical thoughts. Paris--Havre--Kronstadt--Siberia; and Demetrius. "Oh!" sighed she again, with a trembling hand shielding her eyes.
"You are ailing, madame," cried Aksakoff, hastening to her politely.
"Starving!" replied Leah, with a wry smile. "Hush!"
The warning hissed through the chatter of Joan and Askew, who entered, almost riotously happy. Their exuberant manners and frank speech brought a wholesome breeze of cleansing honesty into the atmosphere of stale rascality. The bracing wind blew Lady Jim out of dark chambers into the day-lit spaces of the commonplace. With the protean capability of women she flashed as a sun from passing storm-clouds, to shine on the honest and hungry.
"Thanks awfully for your invitation to luncheon," said Askew.
"Which you forgot."
"Did I ever receive it?" he asked doubtfully.
"Did not my last remark imply the invitation. Remarkable!"
So irrelevant sounded the last word that Aksakoff queried its reason.
"Not that a man should forget an invitation," she explained; "but that a single meal should escape his greedy memory."
"You make me out to be a gourmet," hinted the invited guest.
"Why not a gourmand? One speaks French in Paris."
"Not invariably, since we now converse in English," said Askew, dryly; and she approved of the retort. Clearly he was rapidly recovering from the green-sickness of crude passion.
Meantime Joan instructed Aksakoff in ancient history. "The hieroglyphics on the Place de la Concorde Obelisk describe the triumphs of Rameses II., who reigned over Egypt in the fourteenth century before Christ. Mr. Askew knows him."
"Indeed?" smiled Lady Jim. "Is he stopping in Paris?"
"Miss Tallentire means to say that I know 'of him.'"
"Well, I said so. But my Englishisfaulty."
"Mr. Askew will surely improve it. His knowledge of hieroglyphics----"
"The guide-book's knowledge, Lady James," corrected Askew.
"Hum! Information while you wait--Murray and Baedeker's extract of history--archeological tabloids."
"What felicitous phrases!"
"Sarcasm! That surely means--convalescence."
"You have been ill then, monsieur;" Aksakoff addressed the colouring young gentleman.
"Heart-disease," flashed Lady Jim, gaily--"Ah, M. Demetrius!"--and so did her ex-lover out of a retort. "You know Miss Tallentire--Mr. Askew; they were at Firmingham, if you remember. And M. Aksakoff, who will doubtless recall Dr. Demetrius."
"Say Prince Constantine Demetrius, madame.
"You place me too high," said the doctor, bowing stiffly. "Out of Russia I am but a simple physician."
"And a remarkably clever one, according to this lady."
"Madame flatters. I failed, where I should have succeeded."
Leah murmured a sharp aside, reproving the professional humility which necessitated an allusion to her loss. A bowing waiter entered before the doctor's apologetic shrug could be followed by words.
"Madame is served," said the waiter, and the lift lowered five hungry people to the dining-room.
Says a disciple of Brillat-Savarin, with solemn truth and the infallible judgment of experience, "Breakfast in Scotland, lunch in America, and dine in Paris." Circumstances prevented Lady Jim from dispensing Boston hospitality, but having supervised the ideas of the Henri-Trois chef, she placed a very dainty and tempting repast before a quartette almost too hungry to be critical. Nor was wanting wine, chosen with masculine discretion, to loosen rusty tongues and release fair thoughts embedded in slow brains. But this latter adjective must be taken--very appropriately at table--with a grain of salt. None of those who ate and drank were dull; three of them, indeed, were much too clever, and the remaining two made up in sparkle what they lacked in depth. Many good things were eaten and said during that merry meal, and the corner near the large window bubbled with laughter. Leah, watching stealthily the courtesy of Aksakoff and his fellow-countryman, shivered internally at the irony of circumstances. Paris--Havre--Kronstadt--Siberia: the four names repeated themselves dolorously in her brain like a street cry. What wonder, then, that the spectacle of this tragic comedy made her laugh and babble, and smile and nod, and play to perfection the rôle of an attentive hostess. She was quite glad that what would prove in all probability to be her victim's last civilised meal was appetising. Aksakoff professed himself charmed with her esprit. Here, thought he, were the makings of an ideal conspirator, and he regretted her nationality. The Anglo-Saxon nature is so alien to working mole-fashion. Yet, had he only known the truth, Lady Jim had already proved her willingness to conspire, if not against a throne, at least for the cheating of a limited company.
The luncheon was thus pleasant, and not less so the digestive hour, when the repleted guests assembled in the sitting-room. Anxious to afford the diplomatist every assistance, Lady Jim gathered the young people under her wing near the piano at the far end of the apartment. Joan, who had more of a soul than a memory for music, played scraps, chatting to right and left while her nimble fingers ran from Mozart to Chopin and attempted what their owner remembered of Wagner's creations. Thus the Muscovites, smoking by special permission, were enabled to exchange views in comparative privacy. To assure complete secrecy, and with the hole-and-corner instinct of the Slav, they talked Russian with a bluntness strangely opposed to Lady Jim's elusive suggestiveness. The situation--to Demetrius, at least--did not admit of sugared phrases or ambiguous explanations.
"Madame yonder"--he nodded towards Leah--"told you why I desired this interview."
"Yes!"--Aksakoff handled his cigarette daintily--"but an explanation from you is necessary."
Demetrius nodded brusquely. "I must mention the name of your daughter."
"Without doubt, since her welfare is the main object of our meeting."
"Mademoiselle Aksakoff," said Demetrius, coldly, "has done me the honour to admire me. But that my affections are already engaged, I should certainly reciprocate."
"You allude to Mademoiselle Ninette?"
A look of surprise flitted across the other's face. "The actress? Why should you think so?"
"Rumour credits you with being her lover."
"And, as usual, rumour is wrong. Mademoiselle Ninette was assuredly my patient, but I received my fees in gold, not in kisses. As poor Dr. Demetrius I I cannot live on love, Ivan Aksakoff."
"Prince Constantine will be able to do so with the lady he mentions."
"I mentioned no lady."
"Ah, pardon!" Aksakoff was foiled. "You accept my apology?"
"None is needed. I intended to tell you the name of the lady, Ivan Aksakoff; it is madame yonder."
With uplifted eyebrows the diplomatist glanced in the direction of Leah.
"I heard something in London clubs of your admiration for her, Constantine Demetrius; even before her husband died it was said that you had laid yourself at her feet. What a pity you cannot marry her! An ideal match, my friend; quite ideal, and so useful in promoting a social understanding between Holy Russia and these islanders."
"We marry in a year," announced the doctor, calmly.
"Ah, no; but pardon me, it is impossible!" Aksakoff, really and truly startled, dropped his cigarette. That haughty Lady James Kaimes should---- "It is quite impossible," said he, staring.
"I refer you to the lady herself," insisted Demetrius.
"A-a-a-h!" droned the other, picking up his cigarette to place it in the ash-tray, and lighting another; "y-e-s!" He stared again at his companion, then stole a glance at Leah. Apparently her desire to assist Muscovite politics was not entirely a question of pounds, shillings, and pence. She was less sordid and more subtle than he had guessed.
Demetrius, giving him no time to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, went on with his explanation. "You will, therefore, understand that my marriage with your daughter is out of the question."
"Of course," assented Aksakoff, absently, and wondering why Lady Jim engaged herself to this exile. "Of course," he added more briskly, "I trust you will permit me to announce this engagement to my daughter."