For a moment she stood still, looking at the big type with open, staring eyes. Then, with a low cry, like a wounded animal, she let the paper slip from her nerveless fingers. There was a furious throbbing at her temples: her heart seemed to stop. The room spun round, and she fainted just as Steell rushed forward to catch her in his arms.
"Brandy! Brandy!" he shouted. "She's fainted!"
While Ray ran for the smelling salts and Mr. Parker was bringing the brandy there came another vigorous pull at the bell. An instant later the maid entered with a cablegram, which Mr. Parker seized and tore open. As he read the contents, a look of the greatest surprise and joy lit up his face.
"Look at this!" he cried.
"What is it?" demanded Steell, still on his knees trying to revive the unconscious woman.
"This will do her more good than all your brandy."
"What is it?" cried Ray impatiently.
"He's safe!" cried Mr. Parker exultantly.
"Safe!" they all cried.
"Yes—safe." Handing the dispatch to the lawyer, he added: "Here—read this."
Steell took the dispatch and read:
CAPE TOWN, Saturday: Miraculously saved. Sail to-morrow on theZanzibar. KENNETH.
The house of mourning had suddenly become transformed into a house of joy.
From the deepest abyss of hopeless despair Helen, during the next few days, was raised to the highest pinnacle of human felicity. Kenneth was safe, that was all she wanted to know. Whether he had succeeded or not in saving the diamonds she did not know or care.
Nothing more had been heard from him. Cable dispatches reported theZanzibarto be making good time on her way to Southampton, but, until the steamer arrived there, no further details were to be expected. Much, however, had been gleaned as to the fate of theAbyssinia, and, as the accounts of disaster began to come in, she could only thank God that he had succeeded in escaping such a fearful fate. The ship had mysteriously caught fire the first day out from Cape Town, and, in the excitement, the crew, as well as the passengers, lost their heads. Only one boat could be lowered, and in this Kenneth got away, together with François, his valet, and some other passengers. A news item in connection with the affair, which was of particular interest to Helen, ran as follows:
"The loss of theAbyssiniabrought to a tragic ending a remarkable romance in which Mr. Kenneth Traynor, one of the rescued passengers and a prominent New York broker, is one of the principal figures. Mr. Traynor is one of two twins so identical in appearance that no one, not even their own mother, knew them apart. One of the children mysteriously disappeared when a mere child and was believed to be dead. Mr. Kenneth Traynor went recently to South Africa on business, and on the diamond fields found in starving condition an unlucky miner who was a perfect counterpart of himself. It was his lost brother. Mutual explanations followed and the identity was established. Overjoyed at the reunion the two brothers sailed for home on theAbyssinia. Suddenly came the alarm of fire. While the panic on board was at its worst, the broker lost sight of his brother, whom he never saw again and whom it is only too certain went down with the ship."
"It's almost unbelievable, isn't it?" exclaimed Helen, as she read the paragraph for the hundredth time and handed it to Wilbur Steell, who had dropped in to hear if there was any news.
Ray, who loved a mystery better than anything else in the world, clapped her hands.
"Isn't it perfectly stunning?"
"Not for Kenneth's brother—poor fellow," said Helen reprovingly. "He did not live long to enjoy his bettered condition."
"That's right. How thoughtless of me!" said Ray contritely.
As he finished reading Mr. Steell looked puzzled. Looking toward Helen he asked:
"Did you know that your husband had a twin brother?"
"I only knew it recently—just before he sailed. He did not know it himself."
"How did he find it out?"
"His old nurse told him. I was present."
"Did the nurse know the brother was in South Africa?"
"No—she had no idea of it. I'm sure of that. It's one of those wonderful coincidences one some-times hears of."
The lawyer shook his head. Thoughtfully he said:
"It's certainly strange—one of the strangest things I ever heard of."
"Kenneth will be able to tell us more about it when he comes," said Ray.
"Yes—no doubt," asserted her sister quickly.
The lawyer remained thoughtful for a moment. Then, lightly he said:
"We ought to give Kenneth a rousing welcome home. After such experiences as he has had he richly deserves it."
Eagerly Helen caught at the suggestion.
"By all means!" she cried. "Suppose we give a dinner, followed by a dance."
"Oh, lovely!" said Ray.
"The night following his arrival," went on Helen enthusiastically. "We'll make it quite an affair and invite everyone we know—the Parkers, the Galloways, the Fentons, everybody——"
"Don't forget me!" interrupted Steell.
"Oh, you, of course!" Roguishly she added: "Aren't you one of the family?"
He looked at her and smiled. In an undertone which Ray, too busy looking at the paper, did not hear, he added:
"Not yet, but I hope to be."
"The sooner the better, Wilbur," she said earnestly. With a significant glance at her sister she added, "Don't let her keep you waiting too long."
Every hour brought nearer the happy day when they would see Kenneth again. A cablegram from England reported that theZanzibarhad reached Southampton. Closely following this came a brief message from Kenneth himself, stating that he was on the point of sailing for New York on theAdriatic. In five more days he would be in New York.
Expectation now reached fever heat, the excitement being communicated to everyone in the house. Every time the front door bell rang there was a rush downstairs in the hope that it might be another message.
Ray, bubbling over with excitement, was almost as eager as her sister.
"Won't it be jolly to go down to the dock and meet him?"
Helen shook her head.
"I won't go to meet him. I prefer to be here when he arrives." Anxiously she added: "I hope everything is all right."
"Why shouldn't it be all right?"
Her sister was silent. It seemed absurd, when everything seemed to point to her happiness, that she should still feel depressed and nervous, but, somehow, she could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It was certainly strange that no letter had been received from Kenneth since the accident. Yet perhaps it was wicked of her to expect more. She ought to be grateful that he had been spared. Almost unconsciously she remarked:
"Isn't it strange that Ken hasn't written for so long? I haven't had a line from him since he left Cape Town."
"Yes—you have," protested her sister. "You had a cablegram telling you of his safety."
"A cablegram—yes, but no letter. I have had no letter since he left Cape Town."
"That's true. But how could he write? He has been traveling faster than the mails."
"I hope he's not hurt."
"Of course not. You would have heard it before this. Bad news travels fast."
Every moment from now on was devoted to getting the house ready for the arrival of its lord and master. Ray had skilfully fashioned out of red letters on white paper, a big "Welcome" sign, which was to be suspended in the hall on the complacent horns of two gigantic moose heads, souvenirs of a month's vacation in the Adirondacks. While this was being done downstairs Helen busied herself in the library and bedroom, getting ready the things for his comfort—his dressing-gown, his slippers, his pipe. She detested pipes, as do most women, but she could not refrain from giving this pipe a furtive kiss, as she laid it lovingly on the table within easy reach of the arm-chair. The maids, changed since he went away, were laboriously instructed in what they should and should not do, what towels should be put in the luxurious bathroom, what pajamas should be laid on the bed.
Well Helen remembered the first time she had entered this bedroom. Just married, in the full flush of her new-found happiness, it had all seemed so beautiful, so ideal. The dull pink color scheme, so chaste and delicate, the gracefully carved furniture, so luxurious and elegant, the cupids flying above the massive beautifully carved bed, a veritable bower of love—all this seemed only a realization of her girlhood dreams of what married life should be. And now Kenneth was coming back, after his long absence in South Africa, it would be like getting married all over again.
The next four days seemed longer than any Helen had ever spent in all her life. The delay was interminable. The minutes appeared to be like hours, the hours like days. Having to wait patiently for what one desired so ardently was simply intolerable. She tried to divert her mind by busying herself about the library, dusting his favorite books, tidying his papers, but constantly came back the thoughts that filled her with uneasiness, a vague, undefinable alarm. Was he all right?
At last the great day arrived. A Western Union telegram announced that theAdriaticwould dock at 2 o'clock. Long before that time, Ray, unable to restrain her impatience, was on her way down town, accompanied by Mr. Steell, while Helen, her face a little paler than usual, her heart beating a little faster, sat in the great recessed window of the library, and waited for the arrival of the loved one.
Anxiously, impatiently, she watched the hands of the clock move round. How exasperatingly slow it was: how indifferent it seemed to her happiness! If the ship docked at two they could hardly arrive at the house until four. It would take at least two hours to get through the customs. Oh, would the moment never come when she would see his dear face and clasp him in her arms?
It was nearly half past two when suddenly the front door bell rang. Her heart leaping to her mouth, she rushed to the top of the stairs. It was only Mr. Parker, who had dropped in on the chance of finding his associate already arrived.
To-day the president of the Americo-African Mining Company was in the highest spirits. Everything had gone according to his expectations. Kenneth was home with the big diamonds safe in his possession. The directors could not fail to give him (Parker) credit for his sagacity and enterprise. The stocks of the company would soar above par. Fortune was smiling on them in no uncertain way. Was it a wonder he was feeling in the best of humors?
"How do you know the diamonds are safe?" questioned Helen anxiously. "In such a terrible panic as there must have been on that ship a man thinks only of saving himself."
"Pshaw!" replied the president confidently. "I'm as sure of it as that I'm here. It was understood that he was never to part with the stones under any circumstances. They are in a belt he wears round his waist next to his skin. If the diamonds were not here, Kenneth would not be here. Knowing he is safe I am convinced that they are safe."
"Will you wait here until he comes?"
"No, I can't. There's a meeting of the directors this afternoon. I must attend. I'll call him up on the telephone——"
"But you are coming to dinner this evening——"
"Yes, yes, of course." With a smile he added: "Now, don't get too spoony when he comes, or else Ken will have no head for business."
"No fear," laughed Helen. "We are too long married for that."
"Well, good-bye. I'll see you later."
The president took his hat and turned to go. As he reached the door he turned round.
"By the bye, have you seen Signor Keralio lately?"
Helen's face grew more serious.
"No—Signor Keralio does not call here any more-at my request."
The president gave a low, expressive whistle. Holding out his hand he said:
"Got his walking papers, eh? Well, I guess if you don't like him he isn't much good. I never did care for the look of him."
"Why did you ask?" she inquired.
"I was just curious—that's all. He's a persistent, uncomfortable kind of man. I don't like his face. It's a face I wouldn't trust——"
"That's why he's not coming here any more," she replied calmly. "He forgot himself and that was the end——"
The president turned to go.
"Well, good-bye. Ken will be here soon."
"Good-bye."
He went away, and once more Helen resumed her lonely vigil at the library window, straining her ears to catch the direction of every passing car, catching her breath with suspense as each pedestrian came into view. They could not be much longer. She wondered if he had missed her as much as she had him. No, men do not feel these things in the way women do. They are too busy—their minds too much preoccupied with their work. The turmoil of affairs absorbed their attention.
The clock struck the three-quarters, and the reverberations of the chimes had not entirely died away, when through the partly opened window came the sound of a taxicab suddenly stopping in front of the door.
At last he had come! It was surely Kenneth. Her bosom heaving with suppressed excitement she ran to the stairs and was already in the lower hall before the maid had answered the bell. Quickly she threw open the door, eager to throw herself in the traveler's arms. A tall shadow darkened the doorway. It was François, the French valet.
Helen fell back in dismay.
"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed, looking over his shoulder to see if Kenneth were following. "Where is your master?"
A curious expression, half-defiant, half-cunning, came over the servant's face, as he replied:
"Monsieur coming. He sent me ahead with light baggage. He detained at customs."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, disappointed. "When will he be here?"
"He come presently—perhaps quarter of an hour."
"How is your master?"
"He very well, except his eyes—they bother him a leetle."
Helen stared at him in alarm.
"His eyes," she exclaimed. "What is the matter with his eyes?"
The valet avoided her direct gaze, and, shifting uneasily on his feet, began to fuss with the leather bags he was carrying. Awkwardly he said:
"Didn't madame hear?"
"Hear what?" she gasped, now thoroughly alarmed.
The man put out his hand deprecatingly.
"Oh, it's nothing to make madame afraid. It will soon be all right. I assure madame——"
"But tell me what it is, will you?" she interrupted impatiently. "Don't have so much to say—tell me what it is——"
"It was when the ship caught fire, madame. We were running to ze life-boat, monsieur and me, when suddenly——"
"Well—what?" she almost shouted, in agony of suspense.
"Monsieur tripped over a coil of rope and fell——"
Almost unconscious in her excitement of what she was doing Helen laid her hand on the man's arm. Terror-stricken she cried:
"He didn't hurt himself seriously, did he?"
The valet shook his head.
"No, madame—not seriously. He struck his head against a chair and just graze ze eye. It is nothing serious, I assure madame. The doctor says that if he wears blue spectacles for few months he will be all right."
"Oh, he wears blue spectacles, does he?"
"Yes, madame, he must. Ze eye is inflamed and cannot stand ze strong light."
"Poor Kenneth!" she murmured, half-aloud. "I shall hardly know him in blue spectacles."
The valet, who had been watching her like a hawk out of his half-closed, sleepy-looking eyes, overheard the remark. Quickly he said:
"Of course, madame must expect to find monsieur a little changed. What we went through wasépouvantable, something awful. We just escaped with our lives. For days monsieur was so nervous he was hardly able to speak a word. Even now he stops at times——"
Helen looked at him in wonder.
"'He stops!' What do you mean?"
The valet turned away, and for a moment was silent. Then, as if making a great effort, he turned and said:
"Madame will pardon me, but she must be brave and not show monsieur she notices any change. Ze doctor said it was a terrible shock to his nervous system—that fire. Monsieur has not been ze same since,pas du toutze same. Ze doctor he says that these symptoms will all disappear once he gets home and has a good rest. It is only ze shock, I assure madame."
Helen listened appalled, her face growing whiter each moment, her lips trembling. He had met with an accident, then, after all! Her instinct had spoken truly. Her darling was ill. That explained his long silence. He had been too ill to write. He had gone through a terrible shock and he had come home ill, very ill, quite changed. Her voice faltering she said:
"What are the symptoms?"
"Monsieur's memory is so bad, madame. He forgets. Only to-day, as ze ship came up ze harbor, I ask monsieur if he expect madame to meet us at ze dock.C'est vraiment incroyable! He turned to me, with a look of ze greatest surprise, and asked: 'Who ze devil is madame?'"
"What! Didn't he seem to remember me, even?" A look of distress came over her face.
The valet shook his head.
"Non, madame." Quickly he added: "But it is nothing. It is only temporary."
"Didn't he know my sister and Mr. Steell? Didn't they greet him at the dock?"
"Yes, madame. They spoke to him and he spoke to them. But he was not himself. They seemed surprised. They will tell madame."
Helen fell back, sick and faint. Why had she not known this before? She would have gone down to meet him, thrown herself weeping into his arms. He would have known her then—who better than he would recognize that perfume he loved so well? He would have taken her in his strong arms and kissed her passionately. If he was not himself it was because he was ill. The shock had affected his memory! Poor darling husband, he must be well nursed. A few days of her devoted care and he would be all right again. Of course, it was nothing serious. Kenneth had led too clean and wholesome a life for anything grave to be the matter. If only he would come! God grant that he return to her as he went away!
As the unspoken prayer died away on her lips, there was the chugging of an automobile stopping suddenly at the curb.
"Les voici!" cried François, dropping into his native tongue in his excitement.
He threw open the wide doors and the next instant Ray ran up the steps. Helen, weak and dizzy from nervous tension, feeling as if she were about to faint, met her on the threshold.
"Kenneth!" she gasped. "Is he all right?"
"Certainly—he's fine. He's a little tired and nervous after the long journey, and the blue spectacles he wears make him look different, but he's all right."
The wife looked searchingly, eagerly at the young girl's face, as if seeking to read there what she dreaded to ask, and it seemed to her that the customary ring of sincerity was lacking in her sister's voice.
"Where is he—why isn't he with you?'
"Here he is now—don't you see him?"
Helen looked out. There came the tall, familiar figure she knew so well, the square shoulders, the thick bushy hair, with its single white lock so strangely isolated among the brown. Her heart fell as she saw the blue glasses. They veiled from her view those dear blue eyes, so kind and true. They made him look different. But what did she care as long as he had come home to her? Even with the horrid glasses, that dear form she would know in a thousand!
Slowly he came up the long flight of stone steps, weighted down by traveling rugs and handbag, both of which he refused to surrender to the obsequious François. Eagerly she rushed down the steps to meet him, her eyes half-closed, ready to swoon from excitement and joy. Nothing was said. He opened his arms. She put up her mouth, tenderly, submissively. For a moment he seemed to hesitate. He held her tight in his embrace, and just looked down at her. Then, as he felt the warmth of her soft, yielding body next to his, and saw the partly opened mouth, ready to receive his kiss, he bent down and fastened his lips on hers.
For one blissful, ecstatic moment Helen lay tight in his embrace, nestling against the breast of the one being she loved better than anyone else in the world, responding with involuntary vibrations of her own body to the gust of fiery passion that swept his. But only for a moment. The next instant she had torn herself violently free, and was gazing, wonderingly, fearfully, up into his face, trying to penetrate those glasses which veiled, as it were, the windows of his soul. Why she broke away so abruptly from his embrace she could not herself have explained. Something within her, some instinct to which her reason was unable to give a name, made her body revolt against the unusual ardor of the caress. Strange! Never before had she felt so embarrassed at Kenneth's demonstrations of affection.
"How are you, dear?" she murmured, when at last she could find words.
She had not yet heard the sound of his beloved voice, and when at last he answered her it seemed to her ears only like an echo of its former self, so exhausted and wearied was he by what he had gone through.
"Very tired, sweetheart," he replied huskily. "I shall need a long rest."
She led the way into the house and up the stairs, where everything had been so elaborately prepared for his welcome. In the bedroom she pointed with pride to the real Valenciennes lace coverlet put on in his honor, and showed him the dressing-gown and slippers so lovingly laid out. He looked at everything, but made no comment. She half expected a few words of praise, but none were forthcoming. While affectionately demonstrative he was unusually reticent. She wondered what worry he could have on his mind to make him act so strangely and suddenly Keralio's words of warning came to her mind. Was there a side to his life of which she knew nothing? Were his thoughts elsewhere, even while he was with her? Quickly there came a look of dismay and anxiety, which he was not slow to notice. Instantly on his guard, he murmured in a low tone:
"Forgive me, dear, I can't talk now. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open."
Instantly her apprehension was forgotten in her desire to make him comfortable.
"That's right, dear. You must be dead with fatigue. You'll take a nice nap and when you wake up it will be time for dinner. I've planned a nice little party to celebrate your return—only a few intimates—Mr. Parker is coming, and Wilbur Steell, and a young man named Dick Reynolds, an acquaintance of Wilbur's. You won't mind such old friends, will you?"
He shook his head.
"No, indeed. I'm very tired, now, but I'll be all right in a few minutes."
"Of course you will," she smiled, as she removed the handsome lace coverlet from the bed. "No one will disturb you. My darling hubbie can sleep as sound as a top, and, when he wakes, we'll talk a terrible lot, won't we?" Looking up roguishly, as she smoothed his pillow for him, she added shyly: "There are two pillows here now. There has been only one while you were away——"
For the first time he seemed to evince interest in what she was saying. His eyes flashed behind the blue spectacles, and his hands trembled, as he quickly made a step forward and put his arm round her waist.
"There'll always be two in the future, won't there?" he asked hoarsely.
"Yes, of course there will," she laughed,
"To-night?" he insisted.
"Yes, of course," she said, her color heightening slightly under the persistency of his gaze. What a foolish question! Changing the topic she added, with a laugh: "Now, take your coat off, like a good boy, and go to sleep. I'll go down and keep the house quiet. When it's time to get up, I'll come back."
"Don't go yet," he murmured, looking at her ardently. Taking her hand caressingly he tried to lead her to the sofa. "Sit down here. I won't sleep yet. Let us talk. I have so much to say."
Firmly Helen withdrew from his embrace.
"No, no; I won't stay a moment," she said decisively. "Not now. You must behave yourself. We'll talk all you want to to-night. But not now. You are very tired. The sleep will do you good. Now be a good boy—go to bed."
He tried to intercept her before she reached the door, but she was too quick for him. She went out and was about to close the door behind her when he called out:
"Please send François to me."
She nodded.
"Yes, dear, I will. Of course you need him. Why didn't I think of it before?"
She closed the door and went downstairs. It was hard to believe that he was back home. How long she had waited for this day, and, even now it had come, the void did not seem filled. There still seemed something wanting. What it was, she did not know, yet it was there.
In the dining-room she ran into Ray, who had her arms filled with magnificent American beauty roses.
"Oh, how beautiful!" cried Helen enthusiastically. "Where did you get those flowers?"
The young girl laughed. "They're a present from me and Wilbur—in honor of Kenneth's arrival. Where is he?"
"Upstairs—he's going to lie down until dinner is ready. Poor soul—he's almost dead with fatigue."
"Has he got the diamonds?"
Helen gasped. She hadn't thought of that. In all the excitement the real object of her husband's trip to South Africa had quite escaped her mind.
"I don't know," she said quickly. "I haven't asked him. We've hardly exchanged a dozen words. He'll tell us later. Was nothing said about them at the Customs? Didn't he declare them?"
"No—I thought it was strange. That's why I asked you if he had them. Possibly he left them to be cut in Amsterdam."
Helen grew thoughtful.
"I don't know. He'll tell us later."
Ray filled the vases with the flowers, while Helen busied herself at the buffet, getting out all the pretty silverware with which the dinner table was to be decorated. The young girl hummed lightly as she decorated the room with the fragrant blossoms.
"Isn't it lovely that Kenneth is back?" she exclaimed.
"Yes, indeed."
"I hardly knew him at first in those spectacles."
"I'm not surprised at that."
"If it hadn't been for that white patch of hair I don't think we could have picked him out of the crowd. There was an awful crush there."
There was a pause, and then Helen asked:
"How do you think he looks?"
"About the same," replied the girl carelessly. "He doesn't seem in as good spirits as when he went away. He is very quiet. He hardly spoke a word to us on the way home. Possibly he has some business anxiety on his mind."
"Did he ask about me?"
"Yes—you were his first question."
"Did you tell him about Dorothy?"
"That she was not so well? Yes."
"What did he say? Was he worried?"
"Not particularly. I think men are more sensible in those matters than we women. He knows baby is well taken care of." Changing the subject, the young girl went on: "I hope everybody will be jolly to-night. I've made up my mind to have a good time."
Helen sighed.
"I'm feeling a little uneasy about Dorothy. I got a letter this morning from Aunt Carrie, saying she was not feeling so well. The doctor was going to see her to-day, and, if she got worse, they said they'd telegraph."
Ray looked at her sister in consternation.
"What would you do then?"
"I would have to go at once to Philadelphia."
"And Kenneth just come home—oh, Helen!"
"I couldn't help it. Kenneth couldn't go. Somebody must go. The child could not be left alone. Who should go better than its mother?"
Ray made a gesture of protest.
"Well, don't let's imagine the worst. Dorothy won't get worse. To-morrow you'll get a reassuring letter, and your worries will be over."
"I hope so," smiled Helen.
Leaving the task of sorting the knives and forks Ray came over to where Helen was standing. The young girl pointed to all the vases filled with the crimson roses.
"How do you like that?" she exclaimed.
"Beautiful!"
There was a brief silence, both women being preoccupied by their thoughts, when Ray, in her usual vivacious, impulsive way, burst out:
"Sis, I have something to tell you."
Helen looked up quickly.
"Something to tell me—something good?"
"I'm so happy! I'm engaged at last."
"To Wilbur, of course?"
"Yes."
Helen gave an exclamation of joy.
"Oh, I'm so glad. When did it happen? Tell me all about it—quick."
"He proposed to-day, and I said yes. We're to be married in two months."
The next moment the two women were in each other's arms.
"I'm so glad—so glad," murmured Helen. "I hope you'll both be very, very happy."
"We certainly shall if we are like you and Kenneth. Wilbur says that your example is the one thing that decided him to make the plunge."
Helen smiled.
"You'll have one advantage I don't enjoy. Your husband, being a lawyer, won't be taking trips to South Africa all the time."
"Oh, I don't know," laughed the girl; "it's sometimes nice to lose sight of each other for a time. The lovemaking is all the more furious when your husband gets back."
"Yes—unless he happens to meet some other charmer on his travels."
"Oh, nonsense, Helen—men don't really have such adventures. That only happens in novels."
"I hope so," murmured her sister.
"Oh, by the bye," exclaimed Ray, "who do you suppose we saw on the dock?"
"Who?"
"That horrid creature—Signor Keralio."
Helen looked up in surprise.
"Keralio? What was he doing there? Did he speak to you?"
"No—he seemed to avoid us. Once I got lost for a moment in the crush, and, as I turned, I thought I saw him talking earnestly to Kenneth and François. Of course I must have been mistaken, for, when I finally rejoined them, both denied having seen him!"
"Keralio!" murmured Helen. "How strange! That man seems to pursue us like some evil genius. No matter where we go, he follows like a shadow. Oh, I forgot all about François. Where is he?"
"Downstairs."
Helen touched a bell.
"Why do you need him?"
"Kenneth wants him. I forgot all about it. All his things need putting away. The litter upstairs is simply terrible."
"There won't be much time for unpacking," objected Ray. "It's half-past five already. We'll soon have to think of dressing for dinner."
Suddenly the door opened and François appeared. He entered quietly, stealthily, and, advancing to where his mistress was, stood in silence, awaiting her orders.
"Your master wants you upstairs, François."
The man bowed.
"Bien, madame!"
"Tell Mr. Traynor not to keep you too long, because there's a lot of work to be done downstairs before dinner."
"Bien, madame."
The man lingered in the room, arranging the chairs, and fussing about the table, until he began to make Helen nervous. Peremptorily she said:
"You had better go, François; monsieur is waiting for you."
The valet bowed obsequiously, and left the room, shutting the door carefully. Instead of proceeding immediately upstairs, he stopped for a moment behind the closed door and listened intently. But, unable to overhear the two women, who were conversing in an undertone, he hurried upstairs toward his employer's bedroom. Arrived on the landing, he went straight to the room, and, without stopping for the formality of knocking, he turned the handle and went in.
Instead of finding his master resting from his fatigue, as Mrs. Traynor had said, François discovered the new arrival very much awake. He was sitting in front of Helen's bureau, eagerly perusing a bundle of private letters tied with blue ribbon, which he had taken from a drawer. As the door opened, he jumped up quickly, as if detected committing a dishonorable action; but, when he saw who it was, his face relaxed and he gave a grim nod of recognition.
"Lock the door!" he said in a whisper. "It won't do to have anyone come in here now."
The valet turned the key, and, dropping entirely the obsequious manner of the paid menial, threw himself carelessly into a chair. Taking from his pocket a richly chased silver cigarette box, loot from former houses where he had been employed, he struck a match on the highly polished Circassian walnut chair, and proceeded to enjoy a smoke.
His companion looked at him anxiously.
"Well?" he demanded hoarsely. "Is it all right? What do they say? Does anyone suspect?"
The Frenchman gracefully emitted from between his thin lips a thick cloud of blue smoke, and broke into a laugh that, under the circumstances, sounded strangely hollow and sinister.
"Suspect?" he chuckled. "Why should they suspect? Are you not ze same man who went away—ze same build, ze same face, ze same voice, ze same in every particular—except one. Zat you have not—non—you have not ze education, ze fine manners, zesavoir faireof monsieur." With that expressive shrug of the shoulder, so characteristic of his nation, he added: "Mais que voulez vous? We must do ze best we can."
His listener struck the brass bed-post savagely with his heavy fist. With a burst of profanity he broke out:
"Yes, damn him! He had all the advantages. I had none. But it's my turn now. I want all that's coming to me."
"Hush!" exclaimed the valet, raising his finger warningly. "Zey may hear. Everything will be all right. We must be very careful. You must not talk. You must avoid people. Let them think you sick, or strange, or crazy, anything you like. But keep away from zem, or else they soon discover that 'Handsome Jack,' ze penniless adventurer, is quite a different person from ze accomplished and wealthy Monsieur Kenneth Traynor."
"We can't expect to keep the game up long," interrupted the big fellow moodily.
"We won't have to," replied his companion calmly. "Just enough time to squeeze ze orange dry—that's all——"
Handsome looked up quickly. Savagely he retorted:
"Of which juice you and Keralio want a goodly share, don't you?"
The valet's greenish eyes flashed.
"Of course I do, and, what's more, I mean to get it." Changing his free, careless tone to one tense with significance and menace he went on: "Don't be a fool, Monsieur Handsome. Who put you up to this snap, but me? Who knows what you did to monsieur out there on zeveldt, better than me? Dead men tell no tales, but live ones do. Don't forget that! If you want to keep clear of ze electric chair, you'll keep your mouth shut, and play fair."
The gambler listened, his mouth twitching nervously, his eyes glowing with sullen hatred.
"What do you and Keralio want? I gave you the diamonds—what more do you expect?"
The valet laughed scoffingly.
"You gave him ze diamonds. Why? You were d——d glad to be rid of zem. We can't do anything with zem now. We may have to wait months or years before we can venture to cut zem up and dispose of zem.Non, monsieur! If zey appeared on ze market now, ze news would be flashedimmédiatementto every corner of ze globe, and your career and mine would come to a quick end.Voila!"
"Don't forget Keralio!" said Handsome, with a sneer.
"Eh, bien? Has he not earned it, Signor Keralio? Is it not because of his courage and daring that you are here—ze master in this house? Who but Keralio would have had ze nerve to carry ze thing through?"
Handsome shrugged his shoulders. Cynically he said:
"Oh, I don't know. It seems to me that Keralio is safe under cover, while here I am, disporting myself in the limelight, with every eye turned on me. I guess I prefer Keralio's job to mine——"
The valet's eyes flashed vindictively as he retorted:
"Could your puny brain have conceived this scheme which will make us all rich? Keralio outlined ze whole plan to me directly he heard of your existence. On our reaching Cape Town, after finding you starving on zeveldt, I cabled him ze news. A few hours later he told me exactly what to do. He knew you would do it. How, I do not know. He is no ordinary man, Keralio. When I first saw you out zere, unkempt, in rags, starving, I could have dropped dead from surprise. It never occurred to me that you might be useful. But Keralio knew. He knows everything. He also knew that you would accept his leadership, that you would quickly get rid of monsieur, and secure ze diamonds. Was it not his idea that you set fire to ze ship? And who set fire to ze ship,s'il vous plait, when you refused? Who but your very humble servant. And a hard, dangerous job, it was, too—catch me ever wanting to do it again!"
"Not half so bad as mine. He put up a terrible fight before I threw him overboard."
"Who—monsieur?"
"Yes—he fought like a wildcat, and he was fast getting the best of me, when I managed to give him a rap on the head. That quieted him, and over he went." With an exclamation of disgust, he added: "It was a d——d nasty job. I'm sorry I ever went into it——"
"Sorry—you fool?Sapristi! Just think of this wonderful opportunity. You have ze keys to his vaults, you have control of his bank accounts." Lowering his voice, and, with a significant leer on his face, he added "and you have—his wife!"
Handsome grinned, and the valet went on:
"Précisément! Madame is cold and haughty, like all zese American women. It's not exactly my taste, but she's pretty and dainty, and——"
"Who are all these other people," interrupted the miner, "that man Steell——"
"Yes, that is so. You must know everyone. You must make a study of each, so as to avoid making bad breaks. Monsieur Steell is a lawyer. He's in love with madame's sister, Miss Ray. You've known him all your life, went to school with him, and all that sort of thing. Say 'yes' to everything he says. That's your cue at present. Talk as little as you can, and agree with everybody. The man you must talk with most is Monsieur Parker. He is president of the mining company. Happily he's rather shortsighted, so he won't notice anything. He's the man to whom you'll have to explain ze loss of ze diamonds. He'll be here to-night for dinner, so you'd better get your story ready."
"What can I say?"
"Say that in ze panic your belt worked loose, you had to dive into ze water. When you were dragged into ze lifeboat the belt was gone, do you understand?"
"Yes—but will they believe it?"
"They must believe it. There'll be an awful fuss, of course, but they'll get over it. No suspicion can attach to you."
"He's coming to-night—this man Parker?"
"Yes, to-night. He'll be here for dinner. He——"
Before the valet could complete the sentence there was a knock on the door and Helen outside called out:
"May I come in?"
Instantly the valet jumped up and assumed once more his deferential demeanor. The gambler hurriedly shut the bureau drawers and put on the blue spectacles.
The door opened and Helen entered.
Alert as the Frenchman was, he was not quick enough to quite conceal from the wife that his present obsequious manner had been suddenly assumed for her benefit directly she had entered the room. She had overheard voices, as she reached the landing, and the abrupt manner in which these sounds had ceased was not entirely natural. It had also seemed to her that the valet's tone had had a ring of familiarity about it which she had never known it to have before. Could it be possible that they were discussing matters which were to be kept from her? If so, her husband already had secrets in which not she but his valet shared. She recalled Keralio's cynical smile, as he had whispered: "Husbands only tell their wives half." Perhaps he had spoken the truth. Perhaps at this very moment she was degraded, insulted in her womanhood by a man who was secretly unloyal to her. The very thought went through her like a knife-thrust. All her life, every hour she had devoted to her husband. Even now she did not like to even harbor a shade of distrust, but his strange behavior since his return, this earnest conversation behind closed doors with a menial she despised and distrusted—all this could not but add to her anxiety. Calmly, she asked:
"Have you finished with François, dear? We need him downstairs."
The valet himself answered the question:
"Oui, madame. I was just coming."
Bowing politely, he turned on his heel, and, with a significant glance at Handsome, which his mistress did not notice, he left the room. Helen glanced at the bed, which was undisturbed. Surprised, she exclaimed:
"Why, I thought you were going to lie down!"
He shook his head. Shifting uneasily on his feet, and, without looking up, he answered:
"No—I can't sleep. I'm too nervous. I'll sleep to-night."
Advancing farther into the room she went up him and put her arm affectionately round him. Sympathetically she said:
"You'll feel better in a few days, dear. Just rest and take things easy. I won't hear of your going to the office for a week at least. All the business you and Mr. Parker have you can transact here. By the way, dear, you haven't even mentioned the most important thing of all—have you brought back the diamonds?"
Instead of replying at once to her question, he turned quickly and pulled down the blind.
"You don't mind, do you?" he said. "The light hurts my eyes."
"Of course not," she replied. Sitting down near him she went on: "Tell me—have you got the diamonds? How beautiful they must be! How I should love to see them!"
When finally he turned and confronted her she could see his face only indistinctly, as the drawing of the blind had left the room almost in darkness. His voice was strained and tense as he replied huskily:
"I have not got the diamonds!"
Helen almost started from her seat.
"You have not got them!" she exclaimed. "Where are they, Ken?"
"They are lost!"
"Lost?" she echoed, stupefied.
"Yes—lost."
"Oh, how terrible!" she faltered.
This, then, was the secret of his strange manner, his depression and nervousness. He had lost the diamonds. He had returned home to announce to the eagerly awaiting stockholders that over a million dollars' worth of property had suddenly been swept away. His feeling of personal responsibility must have been awful. No wonder he was not himself. It was enough to unnerve any man. Of course he was not to blame, but the world is so merciless. He would have to bear the censure, even when he was perfectly innocent. How she regretted that he had ever undertaken so heavy a responsibility. Timidly, not wishing to embarrass or annoy him, she said:
"How did it happen, dear?"
For a moment he made no answer, but just sat and stared at her. What little light entered between the shade and the window frame fell full on her face, lighting up the fine profile, the delicately chiseled mouth, throwing off golden glints from her artistically arranged hair. From her face his eyes wandered greedily down to her snow-white neck, her slender, graceful figure, her beautifully molded arms. Certainly, he mused to himself, his brother was an epicure in love. This woman was dainty enough to tempt a saint.
"How did it happen?" she asked again.
"It was in the first rush from the burning ship," he said hoarsely. "I was asleep when the fire broke out. It happened at two o'clock in the morning. The diamonds were in the belt which each night I unfastened and put under my pillow. It was more comfortable to do that than to wear it. When the first alarm came I forgot everything—except my own safety. I rushed pell-mell on deck. It was a nasty night. We didn't know where we were, or how grave the situation was. Outside the wind was howling furiously, the siren was blowing dismally, the panic-stricken passengers and sailors were fighting like wildcats. I lost my head along with the rest. I had reached the lifeboat when suddenly I remembered the belt. I felt at my waist. It was not there. I remembered I had left it under the pillow. I was horror-stricken. Great beads of perspiration broke from every pore. The people were fighting to get into the boat; I fought to get out and back to my stateroom. Suddenly someone knocked me on the head. I lost consciousness. When I came to we were miles away from the wreck, drifting on the ocean in an open boat, and theAbyssiniawas nowhere to be seen."
Helen made an exclamation of sympathy.
"Poor soul—how terrible you must have felt! Thank God, you escaped with your life! We ought to feel grateful for that. Suppose I had been compelled to tell Mary that you were drowned. It would have killed her—you know that. Do you remember what you told her when you went away?"
He stared at her, not understanding.
"Told who?" he said cautiously.
"Mary."
"Oh, yes—Mary—of course—you mean your sister——"
Helen looked at him in amazement, then in alarm. Could the wreck have affected his mind? Laughingly she retorted:
"Ray? Of course not. How foolish you are, Kenneth. Don't you remember that your old nurse came to see you before you sailed?"
He nodded and coughed uneasily, moving restlessly about in his chair, as if to hide his embarrassment. These questions were decidedly unpleasant. Inwardly he wished François was present to help him out.
"Mary? Oh, yes, I remember—of course—of course——"
The look of anxiety in the young woman's face deepened. His memory failed him completely. Changing the subject she said quickly:
"There's something else I wish to mention to you, dear. It is about Signor Keralio——"
He started quickly to his feet. How came his brother's wife to know the name of the arch-plotter, the man who had sentenced her own husband to death? Was it possible that she knew more? Was she aware of his real identity? Was her present amiability of manner merely simulated? Was she waiting her time before calling in the police and exposing him as an impostor?
"Keralio?" he echoed hoarsely. "What about Keralio?" Making a step forward he exclaimed savagely: "Has he squealed? Is the game up? He's to blame, not I!"
Impulsively, instinctively, Helen sprang from her chair and fell back with a startled exclamation. Now thoroughly alarmed, more than ever convinced that the shipwreck had affected his brain, her one solicitude was to keep him quiet until she could get a doctor. Soothingly she said:
"Of course, dear; of course. We won't speak of Signor Keralio now. He's not worth discussing anyhow."
He watched her closely for a moment, as if trying to see if she were deceiving him, but her face was frank and serene. Suddenly, taking hold of her hand, which she abandoned willingly enough in his, he murmured:
"You mustn't mind what I say. I'll soon be all right. I'm a bit mixed up. My mind's been queer ever since that awful night."
"Perhaps you would prefer if we had no one to dinner. I could easily give some excuse and put them all off."
His first impulse was to promptly accept this suggestion, yet what was the good? If he did not meet them to-day he must do so to-morrow. It was best to get it over with. The quicker he got to know the people the easier it would be for him. If he seemed to avoid meeting them, it might only arouse suspicion. Shaking his head, he said:
"No, dear. That's all right. I'm glad they're coming. It will liven things up."
Helen's face brightened. It was the first cheerful remark he had made.
"That's what I think. You must forget what you have gone through. After all it's not so bad, but it might be a lot worse. Mr. Parker will feel badly about the stones, of course, because he had counted on making capital out of the advertising they would receive. But who knows? Perhaps it's all for the best. They may find other stones even more valuable."
A sudden knock at the door interrupted them.
"Come in," called out Helen.
The maid appeared.
"Mr. Parker is downstairs, m'm."
"Good gracious! Here already for dinner. What time is it?"
"Seven o'clock, m'm."
"All right. I'll be down immediately."
The girl went away and Helen turned to her companion.
"Now, hurry, dear, won't you? Dinner is ready. The guests are arriving. Dress quickly and come down."
He still held her hand.
"You're not angry with me?" he whispered.
"Why should I be angry?"
"Because of the diamonds."
"No, indeed—it was you I wanted, not the diamonds."
Drawing her to him, he kissed her. But her lips were cold. There was no response to his ardor. She could not herself have explained why. She felt no inclination to respond to his caresses, which at any other time she would have returned with warmth. With a slight shade of impatience she broke away.
"We have no time for that now, Kenneth. Our guests are waiting."
"That's right," he replied, with a smile that did not escape her. "We've no time now. But the night is still before us."
"Will you come soon?"
"Yes—I'll be right down."