Читать книгу The Mysterious Investment - Ambrose Pratt - Страница 6

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I was placed between Gloria and Lady Letitia Drake at dinner, while almost, but not quite, opposite (it was a round table) Miss Fortescue enlivened the stolidity of Stelfox-Steel and the Under-Secretary for Foreign Trade.

There were about a dozen others present, including a tame duke, two half-broken-in foreign barons, and our host, the famous geologist and explorer, Neil Hammond. Gloria let me rest until the entree was served, when, however, she opened fire in her best American manner. "Did Lady Harris really cut you this afternoon, Sir Francis?" she demanded. The poor duke was so shocked that he spilled some salt upon the cloth, which made him plainly miserable. "Better throw some over your left shoulder," I advised, then turned to Gloria. "Lady Harris is much too well bred a woman to cut anybody," I replied.

"But I had it from——"

"S'sh!" I interrupted. "I'm not impugning the veracity of your informant, Mrs. Hammond. I'm not anybody—in particular—you see."

Gloria smiled maliciously. "You are becoming quite delightfully modest in your old age," she observed.

"When you were a snub-nosed little girl, in short petticoats," I replied severely, "and long before you began to reap the disadvantages of foreign travel, I was already sufficiently a philosopher to know that a man at thirty-five is still looking forward to his prime. Old age indeed!"

"Did-ums, then," said Gloria; "and he's not even bald yet!"

I made her a present of my shoulder. "Lady Letitia," I murmured, "do say something soothing. Mrs. Hammond has been pulling out my hair."

Lady Letitia—a rather pretty blonde, with the whitest neck in London—sympathetically sighed. She was a soulful creature. "Gloria—is so light-hearted, dear girl—and—er—transparent (she lowered her voice at the word—she meant 'shallow'—the little cat) that I'm always envying her. She, for instance, would, have nothing to fear—if M. Rovenski read—her thoughts. Don't you agree with me, Sir Francis?"

From both sides. So there was no escape, it seemed. I nerved myself for the fray, for a glance showed me that everyone who could hope to hear was covertly listening.

"Well, I don't know," I drawled. "One never can tell. It's unsafe to judge by appearances, they say. Mrs. Hammond has always seemed to me a guileless creature (Gloria gasped with rage), but she may be really wickeder than you or I!" (Gloria smiled again.)

Lady Letitia strove to show me by her expression that her life contained a gloomy mystery. "Do you know—I dread that man," she said. "I hope that I shall never be unfortunate enough to meet him. If I did, I believe I should die!"

"Oh, they'd never hang you," I replied consolingly, "not if I were on the Jury anyhow. But tell me how you did it; or was there more than one? Did you use a pistol or a knife? I'm so interested."

A chorus of gentle gurgles told Lady Letitia that she was being laughed at. Being a blonde, she lost her temper in everything except outward seeming. "I'm afraid that you will not be able to make any capital for M. Rovenski at my expense, Sir Francis," she said sweetly. Here was the gauntlet with a vengeance; and I scarcely needed the sudden silence of the table to inform me that I must be careful how I picked it up. I pushed some pease upon my fork.

"Well, I do think," I said reproachfully, "that you might have helped me to earn my salary, Lady Letitia." Then I ate the pease.

"Why," she gasped. "Do you mean—do you admit?" She had lost her head.

I smiled encouragingly. "It's no secret, Lady Letitia. I've been chaffed about it all day."

"What! That—that——" She was a scarlet note of interrogation.

"I have entered the family skeleton trade. Everybody says so. So it must be true. According to report, I'm paid a pound apiece for questionable birth certificates, and even more handsomely for secret murders! I only regret——" Then I stopped.

"What?" asked Mr. Stelfox-Steel from across the board. The word was involuntarily uttered, I felt sure, for he looked as if he could have kicked himself for saying it.

But I smiled into his face, and answered with a bow, "Why, sir; that the duello has gone out of fashion. I have no character which I could lose, thank God! without the certainty of finding soon a better one. But I crave leave, with my superiors, to hate a slanderer!" And as I spoke, I leaned proudly back, and swept the circle with my eyes. For the moment my blood was on fire, and I knew that every note and cadence of my voice had sounded and resounded challenge.

A strained silence succeeded; then the duke spluttered: "Bravo, Coates! Well said! I quite agree with you!" And the incident was closed.

I turned at once to Gloria. "You have a card-party afterwards," I said, "and I'm not invited."

"You are too poor, my boy," she answered kindly. "You'd be sure to win, and that would make you more unsettled and volatile than ever. Why won't you marry, Frank? I'm really awfully worried about your future. There are a dozen girls——"

"I want to be my first wife's chief adorer," I interrupted. "It's a fad, I know, but I can't get over it."

"How absurd you are!" she muttered. "But there's more—don't tell me!"

"Well, there is. I couldn't conscientiously accept the contract of providing for a woman's happiness without I had a selfish interest in maintaining it. I know myself, you see, Gloria."

"What nonsense! Hammond married me for my money, and I'm as happy as a queen. And while you're not a cruel man, Frank, you are much cleverer than he is—where women are concerned."

I shook with laughter. "Shall I tell you a story?" I asked.

"If it's a pleasant one."

"The other day I met a man at the club. He was reading, in an out-of-the-way corner, a scientific journal upside down, and smoking an unlighted cigar. Being a friend of his, I invited and received his confidence. He confessed that he had absent-mindedly quitted home without kissing his wife. I'd tell this to no one in the world but you, Gloria."

Gloria bit her lip, then laughed and blurted out, "Yes, and I didn't forgive him for a week, either."

"You are a whited sepulchre," I observed severely. "The man loves the ground you walk on! As for you——"

"Go on!" said Gloria, with a look full of threats.

"Hammond almost deserves the priceless treasure you have given him," I replied, skirting the issue skilfully.

"You are a dear boy, Frank," said Gloria. "And I'll never rest satisfied until you are married to a nice, beautiful, rich woman like me!"

"Amen!" I answered solemnly. "But you'll spend a lifetime vainly seeking her."

When the women had gone, the duke, who had evidently been waiting for the opportunity, warmly and loudly pressed me to spend the shooting at his house. The blundering, honest, kindly, middle-aged fool wanted to show the others that in his opinion I was undeserving of my reputation. But he meant well, and I accepted. Then Stelfox-Steel came round the table and dropped into a chair beside me heavily. "Waited in for you till four-thirty," he remarked.

"You got my letter?" I inquired.

"Yes, but reckoned you'd think it over and come along."

"You are not the judge of character the half-penny press makes out."

"Don't pretend to be, Sir Francis. Try one of my cigars."

"No, thanks; Hammond's are good enough for me."

"Do you know, Coates, you are very uncivil? Got a reason?"

"And a good one!"

"What is it?"

"Straight from the shoulder?"

"You bet!"

"Well, it strikes me that you want me. If I'm right, there's money in it. And if there's money in it, I must keep you at arm's length, or I'll make a bad bargain!"

The financier favored me with a lingering, narrow-lidded stare. "You ought to be in business!" he declared at length. "If you'd care to try it, I'll clear a desk for you."

"And get what you are wanting now for two pounds ten a week, or thereabouts?"

"You're a shrewd man, Coates—far shrewder than I thought; but you missed the nail that time and hit wood instead. By the way, you went home with that Russian chap Rovenski—last night?"

The sudden sparkling of his eyes warned me of something inexplicit in his accusation, so I answered coolly, "Did you follow me?"

"No," said he, "but I waited on your doorstep till past three. You must have found a lot to talk about."

I was unaffectedly amazed. "On my doorstep—till past three," I repeated. "Bruton Street?"

"Number thirteen! Two whole hours!"

I chuckled to reflect on the much pleasanter fashion in which I had passed those hours. Then I yawned and stood up. Stelfox-Steel stood up, too. "Is the want still wanting?" I inquired.

"To some extent."

"Better break your fast with me to-morrow, then. Noon sharp; you know your way!"

The financier smiled grimly. "I'll be there," he said, and we all went out into the drawing-room.

Miss Fortescue was turning over some pictures on a distant lounge, Gloria was playing one of Chopin's nocturnes, and the other women were gathered in a bunch talking scandal. I wandered over to Miss Fortescue and took the book of etchings on my lap.

"I'll give you some of that fiver, when I get one, if you're good!" I said.

She was silent.

"I know you need it," I went on. "Your shaft about my not being worth powder and shot disclosed the state of your own exchequer."

Miss Fortescue murmured, "Sacrosanct! What a lovely face!" She was studying a picture.

"And that hole in your riding-glove——" I continued.

"It's a story!" she flashed, then, meeting my eye, laughed in spite of herself. "You are the meanest man——"

"No," I said, "just weak, that's all—weak as water. I can put off an encounter days ahead, but when I saw you sitting here—do you think I could stop myself walking over?"

"Give me patience!" she exclaimed, in a low, intense voice, her eyes dilating strangely. "Is my presence poisonous?"

"Only to the lower animals—pariahs—and paupers—like me," I muttered, sadly—though sadly much against my will. I tried to speak lightly, God knows. I saw her nostrils quiver and her bosom heave, and I should have gone if I had had the strength. But the sight intoxicated me. "You are not a pariah, and you know it!" she whispered, staring at the picture.

"If I only had thousands instead of hundreds a year!" I answered bitterly.

"If you were an Irishman I should call you a selfish coward," said Miss Fortescue, in calm, well-regulated tones. I needed just such a restorative, needed it badly. I felt truly grateful; for I had been slipping towards the brink of sentiment, that abyss dangerous.

"And as I am not an Irishman?" I suggested politely, quite recovered.

"You head my list of 'poor things'," replied the girl, "creatures that sigh eternally for something that they lack the courage and ability to fight for and to win. If I were a man and I wanted wealth as you pretend you want it, no one would hear me cry for it. I would get it—I——"

"I know," I interrupted admiringly, "you'd rob a bank or loot the Abbey. But if I did anything like that I'd be sure to give myself away. The veriest infant can tell when I've been doing something wrong. One side of my mouth always twitches."

She looked me over scornfully. "I find it difficult to realise that you are the man who made my cheeks glow and my heart beat, a little while ago, in the other room—when you answered that ridiculous attack upon your honor."

"It wasn't a bad little bit of acting, now, was it?" I anxiously inquired.

Miss Fortescue did not trouble to reply to me, and as Horace Massey came up at that moment I yielded him my place with alacritous civility, and went straight home to bed. It was the first time in many months I had retired before midnight; but I very much desired to meet Mr. Stelfox-Steel with an active and unclouded brain upon the morrow.