Читать книгу A Queen of the Stage - Fred M. White - Страница 9

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Elsie did not know whether to laugh or to cry. After all she had gone through the shock was a cruel one, and none the less so because it was so utterly unexpected. She glanced round the magnificent room as unconcernedly as she could, whilst racking her brains for some excuse to escape the attentions of her companion.

Not the least trying part of the ordeal was the fact that she had not the remotest idea who the man was. He looked pleasant, his face was kindly, and Elsie thought him to be trusted.

Anyway, he must have met the girl somewhere at some time, or he would not have accosted her in such a familiar fashion. Meanwhile he had been holding out his hand for Elsie to take it.

"Are you so afraid of me!" he asked. "Do you suppose I am some fascinating swindler who has found his way into the house with the amiable intention of playing the confidence trick on the first likely person?"

Elsie laughed in spite of herself. There was something about this man that she liked. If the worst came to the worst she could make him a friend, and induce him to take part in the conspiracy. There was a humorous twinkle in his eye which gave Elsie an impression that he rather enjoyed the situation than otherwise.

"I had better confess it," she said. "But I have not the remotest idea who you are."

"Well, that is too bad," the young man exclaimed. "I suppose that I must flatter myself that I have changed for the better in appearance. You used to say I was the plainest boy you ever knew—all red hair and freckles. Surely you will not have the cruelty to say you have forgotten Edgar Sefton."

Elsie's heart thrilled with a spasm of gratitude. She recollected the name perfectly well. Indeed, some years before Sefton had been a pupil at the old rectory. It was possible to make out some sort of likeness to the harum-scarum youth who had never been so happy as when he was up to his eyes in mischief.

"I know you now," Elsie said. "You have certainly changed for the better. But what are you doing here?"

"I have come to the dance, of course," Sefton replied. "The last time I saw you you were in short dresses with your hair down your back, and yet you have not changed very much. How comes it that the dear old Rector has allowed you——"

"I would rather not speak of that," Elsie said in a low voice. "My poor father has been dead for some time. I am quite alone in the world, with my living to get."

Sefton elevated his eyebrows, and from the expression of his face Elsie could read exactly what was passing in his mind. It was by no means usual for a girl dependent upon her own exertions for her daily bread to be masquerading in a costume which could not have cost a penny less than two hundred guineas.

"I can't explain now," Elsie said, with a fine flame of color in her cheeks. "The story is too long, and too romantic."

"I wish you would confide in me," Sefton pleaded. "Don't you remember what chums we used to be in the old days, despite your rude remarks about my hair and freckles? I would do anything in the world for you, Elsie. Perhaps I ought not to call you Elsie now, but the name slipped out."

"I am sure that you mean everything that is good and kind," Elsie said gratefully, "and whatever has happened to me the world seems to have gone very well with you. You used to be rather stupid at lessons, and always declared you would enlist for a soldier."

"Well, I didn't," Sefton laughed good-naturedly. "It sometimes happens that the stupid boy does fairly well in after-life, and I fancy that I am going to make a successful man of business. I was fortunate enough to inherit a few thousands, and I invested them in a business in the City; but I don't suppose you are interested in that."

"Indeed, I am," Elsie said. Gerald Rashleigh uppermost in her mind for a moment. "Circumstances have so ordained it that I am quite interested in City matters. Do you happen to know the name of Rashleigh by any chance? I mean a young fellow whose father is a general officer in the army."

"I know him well. We were college mates. Till recently he was in the employ of Weiss and Company, a very big firm; but don't you know that Gerald Rashleigh has got himself into trouble——"

Sefton paused as if fearful of causing pain.

"I have the best of reasons for knowing that," Elsie went on. "But for him, I should not be here to-night. I am told that Gerald Rashleigh has disappeared from the City, and that it is rumored that he has embezzled a large sum of money belonging to his firm."

"I don't believe a word of it," Edgar Sefton said warmly. "There is some underhand business going on which I should like to get to the bottom of. Weiss has the reputation of being an exceedingly rich man, but no one knows who he is or how he came by his money. There are lots of such men in London to-day; they spring up in a night like mushrooms. Sometimes there is a solid basis to their wealth and they become great people. Sometimes they find their way to Mayfair, where they cut a tremendous dash with their dinners and their diamonds, and presently are heard of no more. A gaol or a bullet generally puts an end to their careers; indeed, people have got so used to this kind of thing that even the yellow press has ceased to make a feature of it. Between ourselves, I know Weiss, and look upon him as an adventurer, and when matters come to be investigated, Gerald Rashleigh will have little difficulty in proving his innocence. But let us talk about ourselves. How long have you been a friend of her ladyship's?"

"Whose?" Elsie stammered. "I don't understand you."

"Well, my question was plain enough. How long have you been a friend of the mistress of the house?"

Elsie decided to make a clean breast of it. She could not lie to or prevaricate with this old friend of hers.

"I don't even know her name. I dare say you will be astonished to hear me say this."

"Well, yes," Sefton admitted somewhat coldly. "It is rather a mild way of putting it. I cannot associate my old friend Elsie with anything that is wrong and underhanded, and, when I look into your face, I am convinced that you would do nothing against the dictates of your conscience."

"Oh, that is so," Elsie said eagerly. "Pray believe me when I tell you that half an hour ago I did not dream of finding myself here. It was by the merest accident that I came to enter this house, but the police were after us——"

"This is terrible," Sefton groaned. "The police? Do you want me to understand that you have gone so far——"

"Oh, no, no," Elsie cried. "I was shielding somebody else. I came to London early this morning only to discover that I had entrusted all my money to a scoundrel who left me penniless, without employment, and without friends. I am the sport of circumstance, the toy of fate, drifting hither and thither in a desperate attempt to obtain the necessaries of life. My dear Edgar, you do not know how near I was to sleeping to night on a doorstep, or the carnal ward of a workhouse. Then an accident brought me in contact with Gerald Rashleigh——"

"Oh, stop," Sefton exclaimed. "You make my head whirl. Let us go away to some quiet corner and discuss the whole thing."

A sudden babel of voices attracted Elsie's attention, and she turned round. An enormously stout man with a face ludicrously like that of a parrot was talking to the hostess and gesticulating angrily. With him was a red-faced woman almost as stout as himself, and literally smothered in diamonds. The third of the trio was in striking contrast to the other two. She was a tall, slim girl in white, her dress devoid of ornaments of all kinds. Even in that moment of stress and confusion the girl reminded Elsie of an old picture that used to hang in the library at home.

"A most extraordinary business, Lady Starfield," the fat man cried. "We stopped at my club in Piccadilly, and as it was a cold night we decided to go inside and wait for Parker. There was a note from Parker saying he couldn't come, so we went back for the car and it had gone. As I was driving it myself, having told my man to meet me here, we left the motor empty by the pavement. As we were pushing our way through a crowd that had gathered round an accident, we saw two women get into the car and drive away. Never saw anything more impudent in my life. I shouted, but it was too late. Still, I should know the people again, though I am not quite certain about one of the women. The other girl was evidently an actress, for she was wearing a fancy dress which showed out from under the cloak she was wrapped in. I could swear to her anywhere."

It was fortunate for Elsie, that Sefton was standing so close by her side. She swayed a little, and he caught her arm to steady her. With an effort Elsie recovered herself.

"Who is that man?" she stammered.

"The very person we were talking about," Sefton explained. "That is Samuel Weiss. He appears to be excited about something. Rather a cool thing, though, wasn't it, to go off with a man's car in that fashion. No wonder he is mad."

"He mustn't see me," Elsie whispered. "For Heaven's sake, take care that he doesn't see me. Thank goodness, you found me out to-night or who knows what might have happened to me within the next hour? I dare not think of it."

"But what has Weiss got to do with you?" Sefton asked.

"Everything," Elsie went on. "Didn't you hear him say he could identify the woman who was an accomplice in the theft of his car? My dear Edgar, I am the very woman who took part in that audacious theft."

Sefton whistled softly to himself.

"Well, I can't say or do anything till I know the history of the case," he said. "You have only been in London a day, you say, but you have crammed a rare amount of fun into the past twenty-four hours."

"Don't laugh at me," Elsie pleaded. "If you only knew my terrible position you would be sorry for me. Just think of it. Here am I, little better than a penniless adventurer, masquerading as one of Lady Starfield's guests. If that is discovered I shall be handed over to the police. If that dreadful red-faced creature recognises me, he will show no mercy. Worried and harassed as I am, I am curious to know what that tall, Madonna-like girl can have in common with people like Mr. Weiss and his wife."

"Strange as it may seem, she is their daughter, Iza. Everybody is puzzled to think that she can really be of their flesh and blood, but surely we have more important matters to discuss. What fiend put it into your head to elope with Weiss' car? Surely, with so many cabs about——"

"There was not a cab to be had for love or money. We were blocked in a crowd caused by an accident to our own cab, and there is not the slightest doubt that we were being followed by the police."

"Oh stop," Sefton murmured. "Really, my poor brain won't stand it. Who were being followed by the police?"

"Why, Gerald Rashleigh and myself. But I have forgotten that I did not tell you anything about that. You see, I was being used as the instrument to get Mr. Rashleigh out of the way. My disguise as a bride formed part of the scheme. We were being closely pressed by the police, and when we saw the empty motor car it seemed like flying in the face of Providence not to take it."

"I suppose I shall understand this muddle in time," Sefton said resignedly. "You ran off with the motor and came here."

"Only because the police nearly caught us red-handed when we were getting rid of the car. Mr. Rashleigh knocked the policeman down, and I am afraid hurt him considerably, only we could not stop to ascertain. We heard a passer-by say that a fancy-dress dance was going on here, and as I was attired for such a function, I hit upon the desperate resolve of trying to pass myself off as one of the guests. By sheer good luck, when I reached the ballroom, you came up and spoke to me."

"Amazing," Sefton said. "And yet people say that romance is dead. Perhaps you will tell me by what ingenious method you managed to save Rashleigh as well as yourself?"

"He is in the servants' hall at present," Elsie said, "disguised as a lady's maid—my maid, in fact."