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AN AMIABLE CHARLATAN
BY
E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
(AUTHOR OF "MR. GREX OF MONTE CARLO," "THE DOUBLE TRAITOR", ETC.)
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY WILL GREF
[Illustration:
"No one can be more glad than Mrs. Delaporte and myself
that this little affair has been concluded so amicably."]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE MAN AT STEPHANO'S
II THE COUP IN THE GAMBLING DEN
III CULLEN GIVES ADVICE
IV THE WOOING OF EVE
V MR. SAMUELSON
VI THE PARTY AT THE MILAN
VII "ONE OF US"
VIII AT THE ALHAMBRA
IX THE EXPOSURE
X A BROKEN PARTNERSHIP
XI MR. BUNDERCOMBE'S WINK
XII THE EMANCIPATION OF LOUIS
XIII "THE SHORN LAMB"
XIV MR. BUNDERCOMBE'S LOVE AFFAIR
XV LORD PORTHONING'S LESSON
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"No one can be more glad than Mrs. Delaporte and myself that this little
affair has been concluded so amicably"
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you please! Nothing has happened"
"I haven't interrupted anything, have I--any little celebration, or
anything of that sort?"
"Eve was one of the first to congratulate me"
AN AMIABLE CHARLATAN
CHAPTER I--THE MAN AT STEPHANO's
The thing happened so suddenly that I really had very little time to make
up my mind what course to adopt under somewhat singular circumstances. I
was seated at my favorite table against the wall on the right-hand side in
Stephano's restaurant, with a newspaper propped up before me, a glass of
hock by my side, and a portion of the _plat du jour_, which happened to be
chicken _en casserole_, on the plate in front of me.
I was, in fact, halfway through dinner when, without a word of warning, a
man who seemed to enter with a lightfooted speed that, considering his
size, was almost incredible, drew a chair toward him and took the vacant
place at my table. My glass of wine and my plate were moved with smooth
and marvelous haste to his vicinity. Under cover of the tablecloth a
packet--I could not tell what it contained--was thrust into my hand.
"Sir," he said, raising my glass of wine to his lips, "I am forced to take
somewhat of a liberty. You can render me the service of a lifetime! Kindly
accept the situation."
I stared at him for a moment quite blankly. Then I recognized him; and,
transferring at once the packet to my trousers pocket, I drew another
glass toward me and poured out the remainder of my half-bottle of hock. So
much, at any rate, I felt I had saved!
"I shall offer you presently," my self-invited guest continued, with his
mouth full of my chicken, "the fullest explanation. I shall also ask you
to do me the honor of dining with me. I think I am right in saying that we
are not altogether strangers?"
"I know you very well by sight," I told him. "I have seen you here several
times before with a young lady."
"Exactly," he agreed. "My daughter, sir."
"Then for the sake of your daughter," I said, with an enthusiasm that was
not in the least assumed, "I can assure you that, whether as host or
guest, you are very welcome to sit at my table. As for this packet--"
"Keep it for a few moments, my young friend," the newcomer interrupted,
"just while I recover my breath, that is all. Have confidence in me.
Things may happen here very shortly. Sit tight and you will never regret
it. My name, so far as you are concerned, is Joseph H. Parker. Tell me,
you are facing the door, some one has just entered. Who is it?"
"A stranger," I replied; "a stranger to this place, I am sure. He is tall
and dark; he is a little lantern-jawed--a hatchet-shaped face, I should
call it."
"My man, right enough," Mr. Joseph H. Parker muttered. "Don't seem to
notice him particularly," he added, "but tell me what he is doing."
"He seems to have entered in a hurry," I announced, "and is now taking off
his overcoat. He is wearing, I perceive, a bowler hat, a dinner jacket,
the wrong-shaped collar; and he appears to have forgotten to change his
boots."
"That's Cullen, all right," Mr. Joseph H. Parker groaned. "You're a person
of observation, sir. Well, I've been in tighter corners than this--thanks
to you!"
"Who is Mr. Cullen and what does he want?" I asked.
"Mr. Cullen," my guest declared, sampling the fresh bottle of wine which
had just been brought to him, "is one of those misguided individuals whose
lack of faith in his fellows will bring him some time or other to a bad
end. My young friend, sip that wine thoughtfully--don't hurry over it--and
tell me whether my choice is not better than yours?"
"Possibly," I remarked, with a glance at the yellow seal, "your pocket is
longer. By the by, your friend is coming toward us."
"It is not a question of pocket," Mr. Parker continued, disregarding my
remark, "it is a question of taste and judgment; discrimination is perhaps
the word I should use. Now in my younger days--Eh? What's that?"
The person named Cullen had paused at my table. His hand was resting
gently upon the shoulder of my self-invited guest. Mr. Parker looked up
and appeared to recognize him with much surprise.
"You, my dear fellow!" he exclaimed. "Say, I'm delighted to see you--I am
sure! But would you mind--just a little lower with your fingers! Too
professional a touch altogether!"
Mr. Cullen smiled, and from that moment I took a dislike to him--a dislike
that did much toward determining the point of view from which I was
inclined to consider various succeeding incidents. He was by no means a
person of prepossessing appearance. His cheeks were colorless save for a
sort of yellowish tinge. His mouth reminded me of the mouth of a horse;
his teeth were irregular and poor.
Yet there was about the man a certain sense of power. His eyes were clear
and bright. His manner was imbued with the reserve strength of a man who
knows his own mind and does not fear to speak it.
"I am sorry to interrupt you at your dinner, Mr. Parker," he said, his
eyes traveling all over the table as though taking in its appointments and
condition.
"Of no consequence at all," Mr. Parker assured him; "in fact I have nearly
finished. If you are thinking of dining here let me recommend this chicken
_en casserole_. I have tasted nothing so good for days!"
Mr. Cullen thanked him mechanically. His mind, however, was obviously
filled with other things. He was puzzled.
"You must have a double about this evening, I fancy," he remarked. "I
could have sworn I saw you coming out of a certain little house in Adam
Street not a couple of minutes ago. You know the little house I mean?"
Mr. Parker smiled.
"Seems as though that double were all right," he said. "I am halfway
through my dinner, as you can see, and I'm a slow eater--especially in
pleasant company. Shake hands with my friend--Mr. Paul Walmsley, Mr.
Cullen."
My surprise at hearing my own name correctly given was only equaled by the
admiration I also felt for my companion's complete and absolute assurance.
Mr. Cullen and I exchanged a perfunctory handshake, which left me without
any change in my feelings toward him.
"Another of my mistakes, I suppose," Mr. Cullen said quietly. "I am afraid
on this occasion, however, that I must trouble you, Mr. Parker. An affair
of a few moments only. I won't even suggest Bow Street--at present. If you
could take a stroll with me--even into Luigi's office would do."
Mr. Parker put down his knife and fork with a little gesture of
irritation. His broad, good-natured face was for the moment clouded. "Say,
Cullen," he remonstrated, "don't you think you're carrying this a bit too
far, you know? There isn't a man I enjoy a half-hour's chat with more than
you; but in the middle of dinner--dinner with a friend too--"
"I try to do my duty," Mr. Cullen interrupted, "and I am afraid that I am
not at liberty to study your comfort."
Mr. Parker sighed heavily.
"Do you mind, Walmsley, having my plate kept warm and reminding the man
that I ordered asparagus to follow?" my new friend remarked, as he rose to
his feet. "Mr. Cullen wants a word or two with me in private, and Mr.
Cullen is a man who will have his own way."
I nodded as indifferently as possible and the two men walked off together
toward the entrance. Then I summoned my waiter.
"Bring me," I ordered, "a fresh portion of chicken and order some
asparagus to follow. Keep my friend's chicken warm and order him some
asparagus also."
Leaning back in my chair I tried to puzzle out the probable meaning of
this somewhat extraordinary happening. My acquiescence in the attitude
that had been so suddenly forced upon me was owing entirely to one
circumstance. Mr. Joseph H. Parker I had recognized at his first entrance
as a regular _habitue_ of the restaurant. He was usually accompanied by a
young lady who, from the first moment I had seen her, had produced an
effect upon my not too susceptible disposition for which I was wholly
unable to account, but which was the sole reason why I had given up my
club and all other restaurants and occupied that particular place for the
last fortnight.
I had put the two down as an American and his daughter traveling in
England for pleasure; and my continual presence at the restaurant was
wholly inspired by the hope that some opportunity might arise by means of
which I could make their acquaintance. Adventures, in the ordinary sense
of the word, had never appealed to me. I was privileged to possess many
charming acquaintances among the other sex, but not one of them had ever
inspired me with anything save the most ordinary feelings of friendship
and admiration.
The opportunity I desired had now apparently come. I had made the
acquaintance of Mr. Joseph H. Parker--made it in an unceremonious manner,
perhaps, but still under circumstances that would probably result in his
being willing to acknowledge himself my debtor. I had a packet of
something belonging to him in my pocket, which was presumably valuable.
His friend, Mr. Cullen, I detested, and the reference to Bow Street
puzzled me. However, I had no doubt that in a few minutes everything would
be explained. Meantime I permitted myself to indulge in certain very
pleasurable anticipations.
In the course of about a quarter of an hour Mr. Joseph H. Parker
reappeared. He came down the room humming a tune and apparently quite
pleased with himself. I took the opportunity of studying his personal
appearance a little more closely. He was not tall, but he was distinctly
fat. He had a large double chin, but a certain freshness of complexion and
massiveness about his forehead relieved his face from any suspicion of
grossness. He had a large and humorous mouth, delightful eyes and
plentiful eyebrows. His iron-gray hair was brushed carefully back from his
forehead. He gave one the idea of strength, notwithstanding the
disabilities of his figure. He smiled contentedly as he seated himself
once more at my table.
"Really," he began, "I scarcely know how to excuse myself, Mr. Walmsley.
However, thanks to you, we can now dine in comfort. Until now I fear I
have taken your good offices very much for granted; but I assure you it
will give me the greatest pleasure to make your closer acquaintance and to
impress upon you my extreme sense of obligation."
"You are very kind," I replied. "By the by, might I ask how you know my
name?"
"My young friend," Mr. Parker said, eying with approval the fresh portion
of chicken that had been brought him, "it is my business to know many
things. I go about the world with my eyes and ears open. Things that
escape other people interest me. Your name is Mr. Paul Walmsley. You are
one of a class of men that practically doesn't exist in America. You have
no particular occupation that I know of, save that you have a small estate
in the country, which no doubt takes up some of your time. You have rooms
in London, which you occupy occasionally. You probably write a little--I
have noticed that you are fond of watching people."
"You really seem to know a good deal about me," I confessed, a little
taken aback.
"I am not far from the mark, am I?"
"You are not," I admitted.
"As regards your lack of occupation," Mr. Parker went on, "I am not the
man to blame you for it. There are very few things in life a man can
settle down to nowadays. To a person of imagination the ordinary routine
of the professions and the ordinary curriculum of business life is a
species of slavery. We live in overcivilized times. There seems to be very
little room anywhere for a man to gratify his natural instincts for change
and adventure."
I murmured my acquiescence with his sentiments and my companion paused for
a few minutes, his whole attention devoted to his dinner.
"Might one inquire," I asked, after a brief pause, "as to your own
profession? You are an American, are you not?"
"I am most certainly an American," Mr. Parker assented.
"In business?" I asked.
Mr. Parker looked round. Our table was comparatively isolated.
"I am an adventurer," he replied mysteriously.
I stared at him and repeated the word. He beamed pleasantly upon me.
"An adventurer! My daughter, whom you have seen here with me, is an
adventuress. We live by our wits and we do pretty well at it. Sometimes we
live in luxury. Sometimes we are up against it good and hard. The Ritz one
day, you know, and Bloomsbury the next; but lots of fun all the time."
I looked at him a little blankly.
"To a certain extent I suppose you are joking?" I asked.
"To no extent at all," he assured me. "By the by, as regards that packet;
would you mind just slipping it under this newspaper?"
I withdrew it from my pocket and obeyed him at once. Mr. Parker's fingers
seemed to play with it for a moment and I noticed at that moment what a
strong and capable hand he seemed to have, with fingers of unusual length
and suppleness.
A dark faced _maitre d'hotel_, who presided over our portion of the room,
came up smiling, with an inquiry as to our coffee. He exchanged a casual
sentence or two with Mr. Parker, bowed and passed on. Mr. Parker, a moment
later, with a little smile lifted the newspaper. The packet had
disappeared. He noticed my look of surprise and seemed gratified.
"A mere trifle, that!" he declared. "I can assure you that I could have
taken it out of your pocket, if I had desired, without your feeling a
thing."
"Wonderful!" I murmured, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
"Just a gift!" he continued modestly. "We all have our talents, you know.
I have ordered some special coffee."
I was beginning to think rapidly now.
"By the by," I asked, "what is Mr. Cullen's profession?"
"He is a detective," Mr. Parker answered, without hesitation; "and, to my
mind, a singularly bad one. For two months he has had what they call his
eye on me. Between ourselves I think he will have his eye on me still in
another two months' time. I am sure I hope so, for I frankly admit that
half the savor of life would be gone if my friend, Mr. Cullen, were to
finally give me up as a bad job and leave me alone."
I suppose that something of what I was feeling was reflected in my face. I
had always considered myself a man of the world and I was interested
enough in my fellows to enjoy mixing with all classes.
But there was the girl!
"You are thinking--!" my companion began softly.
"Your friend," I interrupted, "has just entered the restaurant. He is
coming toward this table."
Mr. Parker's expression never changed. Not a muscle twitched. His tone was
even careless.
"Just as well, perhaps," he remarked, "that we worked that little
conjuring trick."
The detective stood once more at our table. My instinctive dislike of him
was now an accomplished thing. I hated his smile of subdued triumph, and
all my fundamental ideas as to law and order were seriously affected by
it. I was distinctly on the side of my new acquaintance.
"I am sorry to interrupt this little feast," Mr. Cullen said, "but I shall
have to trouble you both to come with me for a short time."
Mr. Parker carefully clipped the end of his cigar and leaned back in his
chair while he lit it.
"My friend Cullen," he remonstrated, "I have no objection to offering
myself up as a victim to your super-abundant energy and trotting about
with you wherever you choose; but when it comes to dragging my friends
into it, I just want to say right here that I think you are carrying
things a little too far--just a little too far, sir."
"If either of you seriously object to my request," Mr. Cullen replied
doggedly, "I can put the matter on a different basis."
"Who is this friend of yours and why should we go anywhere with him?" I
asked.
Mr. Parker shook his head mournfully.
"You may well ask," he sighed. "You may not think it, to look at his
ingenuous and honest expression, but the fact, nevertheless, remains that
Mr. Cullen is a misguided but zealous member of the Sherlock Holmes
fraternity: in short, a detective."
I rose to my feet with some alacrity.
"Anything in the shape of an adventure--" I began.
"Not much adventure about this," Mr. Parker interrupted gloomily, brushing
the ashes from his waistcoat and also rising. "We are probably going to be
searched for spoons. However if it must be--"
For the first time in my life I walked side by side with a detective. He
led us to the far end of the restaurant, into an apartment usually used by
the manager as a wine-tasting office, and carefully closed the door behind
us. Outside I caught the glimmer of a policeman's helmet.
"Every precaution taken, you perceive," Mr. Parker remarked. "In case we
should turn out to be desperate characters and, appalled by the fear of
discovery, should be driven to make a personal attack upon Mr. Cullen, a
myrmidon of the law is lurking near. Under those circumstances I shall
eschew violence. I shall submit myself peaceably to a second examination."
I found the affair, on the whole, interesting. I divested myself only of
my coat and waistcoat and Mr. Cullen's fingers did the rest. Only a single
and momentary frown betrayed his disappointment as, ten minutes later, he
unlocked the door.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I owe you my most profound apologies."
"That's all right, Cullen," Mr. Parker observed, patting him on the
shoulder; "but let's have this thing straight now. Are we to be allowed to
finish our dinner in peace or will you be turning up again with a new
idea? And if I take a box for the Tivoli presently, shall we have the
pleasure of seeing you bob in upon us?"
"So far as my present intentions are concerned," Mr. Cullen remarked
grimly, "you may rely upon remaining undisturbed. I am sorry, Mr.
Walmsley," he added, turning to me, "to have been the cause of any
annoyance to you this evening. My advice to you is, if you wish to escape
these inconveniences through life, to avoid the society of people whose
character is known to the police."
"I shall get you for libel yet, Cullen!" Mr. Parker declared, pulling down
his waistcoat.
"What I've done to annoy that man I can't imagine," he went on
impersonally. "Mind, he practises on me--I'm convinced of it."
Mr. Cullen left us abruptly and quitted the restaurant. I returned to our
table with my new friend.
"Really," he said, "I scarcely know how to apologize to you, Mr. Walmsley.
This sort of thing amuses me, as a rule; but I must admit that Mr. Cullen
is apt to get on one's nerves. A well-meaning man, mind, but unduly
persistent!"
I resumed my seat at the table. I was feeling a little dazed. Opposite,
talking to two ladies, was the smooth-faced _maitre d'hotel_ into whose
keeping I felt sure that packet had gone. Seated by my side was the
gentleman who had assured me with the utmost self-possession that he was
an adventurer. And standing in the doorway, looking at us, was the girl
who for the last few weeks had monopolized all my thoughts; who had played
havoc to such a complete extent with the principles of my life that, for
her sake, I was at that moment perfectly willing to range myself even
among the outcasts of the world.