Читать книгу The Salt Of The Earth - Fred M. White - Страница 7

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It was past six o'clock when Denne closed the door of his private office, and went upstairs to his private apartments. He was giving a big dinner party in the evening, but for the moment he had forgotten all about it. He had had other things to occupy his attention, but now it came back into his mind, and he smiled as he retired to his room to dress. He came down presently, and glanced into the dining-room, a self-satisfied smile crossing his lips as he looked at the table. Everything was in red from the shades of the electric lamps to the masses of flowers. The prevailing note was accentuated by the pale, cream-colored panels on the walls. A servant or two hovered discreetly in the background, probably waiting for the approval of their master. With a word or two of praise he slipped into the salon, where he awaited his guests. One of the first was Vanstone.

"You are a wonderful man," the artist said, as he dropped into a chair. "You are the only rich man I have ever heard of who has a genuine love of art. Most millionaires buy art treasures because its the correct thing. I suppose it is the only way they can get rid of their money. Now, your case is different. I always like to come here early so that I may feast my eyes before those chatterboxes come and spoil everything. By the way, have you thought any more as to what I said to you about Adela Burton?"

"What did you say about her?" Denne asked.

"Oh, come, you know perfectly well what I said. It is a thousand pities that she should throw herself away upon a man like Callader. If she were one of the ordinary social butterflies I would not care. But that girl has a great soul in a beautiful body. She is capable of noble things. That is why I asked you to go out of your way to save her from Callader. I hope you haven't asked her this evening?"

A peculiar smile crept over Denne's face.

"Indeed, I have," he said. "My dear fellow, I will do all I can to help you, but I cannot permit you to come between me and my amusements. You see, being a very rich man, I have so few of them. How do you propose that I should help Miss Burton? Do you wish me to marry her?"

"You might do worse," Vanstone laughed, in spite of himself. "To quote one of your own sayings, 'a man of means can do anything.'"

"I believe he can," Denne said coolly. "Anyway, make your mind easy. I don't think Callader will marry Miss Burton after all. I admit the girl fascinates me, and it would be a shame if she married a bounder like Callader. No, I am not going to tell you anything. But, touching the little matter of the bridge party the other night—"

The arrival of a couple of guests put an end to further confidences. The salon was filling up rapidly, and there was a general murmur of conversation from the secluded corners, where people were already arranging themselves. Presently the door opened and Adela Burton entered, her face serene and smiling. There was no hint of trouble or despair in her splendid eyes. She floated gracefully to her host's side, and held out her hand. If the shadow of the convict hung over her, she knew how to disguise the knowledge from Denne. Close behind her came Callader himself, heavy, stolid, and smiling as usual, yet with a certain air of possession which caused Denne a passing irritation. It was like Bottom and Titania up-to-date; the simile was trite, but it rose swiftly to Denne's mind. He smiled as he bowed over the girl's hand.

"I have not seen you," he said, "since you came into your fortune. I hope that everything came up to your expectations."

Adela smiled brilliantly. Callader nudged her awkwardly.

"Don't forget the ring," he muttered.

"Oh, yes, the ring," Adela echoed. Her dazzling smile had become fixed and mechanical. "I had quite forgotten it, but I have it in my hand. You see, Mr. Callader insisted upon my bringing it. You were careless the other night, even for a millionaire. See what you dropped in my room."

The diamonds flashed and glittered as the girl held them out in her slim fingers. Denne was taken by surprise. It was the Mazarin circlet beyond the shadow of a doubt. He had paid a fancy price for it some time before, and could have sworn that the ring was at that moment safely locked away in one of his safes. But it was no time to ask questions, with Callader standing there, sudden suspicion glowing in his dull eyes. He might find an opportunity later to cross-question Adela as to how the ring had come into her possession. For the present, her eyes mutely appealed to Denne for silence and discretion, and the man of fortune responded. He took the ring coolly and gracefully, and slipped it in his waistcoat pocket.

"That is very good of you. I don't know how I came to drop it, and, believe me, I had not missed the ring. You have not told me whether your fortune came up to expectation?"

"I cannot tell you, for the simple reason that I don't know," Adela laughed. "As yet, Mr. Burton has not put in an appearance. Probably he was detained by business. At any rate, I am still in the position of pleasurable anticipation."

"I daresay Mr. Burton has a good excuse," Denne said. "He is a most peculiar man, and has his own methods of doing things. He will appear probably at the time when you least expect him—to-night, perhaps."

Adela's eyes opened wide. A certain pleasing doubt assailed her.

"Do you mean to say that you know him?"

"Well, yes," Denne said, gravely. "I have known the man who calls himself Samuel Burton for many years. I have not always been in my present position. Time was when I had to work hard for my living like the rest of us."

Adela listened, her lips slightly parted, her eyes shining like stars. Yet she hardly dared to ask the question that trembled on her lips, and it was almost with a sense of relief that she was swept aside by other guests. She shook Callader off and crossed the room to a far corner, where she seated herself apart from the rest. Vaguely disturbed, she began to wonder if she had been the victim of some deception. Surely Denne could never have been on friendly terms with the seedy impostor who had forced himself upon her. Perhaps she would have an opportunity of asking questions presently and justify the mystery of the ring in Denne's eyes.

She sat there thinking the matter over, till the last guest had arrived, and the company drifted in pairs to the dining room. Adela noticed that one of the seats was empty. Her host was explaining that one of his guests had not yet put in an appearance. Then it seemed to Adela that the name of Samuel Burton was floating around the room.

"I hope to have the pleasure," Denne was saying. "It will be quite a dramatic surprise, and give a certain eclat to the evening. It will be a sincere happiness if the meeting between Miss Burton and her fairy godfather took place under my roof."

Adela looked up from the table from her contemplation of flashing silver and crimson, and the dazzling red of flowers.

"Is that possible?" she asked.

Before Denne could reply one of the servants threw the door open, and stood there erect and stiff.

"Mr. Samuel Burton, sir," he said.

Adela's heart gave a great leap, and her eyes fell. For the moment she sat white and trembling.