I was an inveterate smoker, and at this period my favorite habit was a
consolation to me. I smoked at all hours of the day, and Barbara had
encouraged me, saying that she loved the smell of a cigar. But on the
morning following the conversation I have just recorded she complained
that my cigar made her ill, and I went into the boulevard to smoke it.
When I had thrown away the stump I returned to the hotel to attend to
my trunks, which were not yet unpacked. These trunks were in a small
ante-room, the key of which I had put in my pocket. I had adopted this
precaution in order that they should not be in Barbara's sight, that
she should not be left alone with them, and that when I unpacked them
she should not see what they contained. Upon my return to the hotel
Barbara was in her bed-room, attending to her toilet, and Annette was
with her. It was Barbara's first visit to Paris, and we had arranged
to make the round of its principal attractions.
The first trunk I opened was that in which I had deposited the five
bottles of brandy I had found among Barbara's dresses. To my
astonishment they were gone.
I was positive I had placed them there, but to make sure I searched my
second trunk, with the same result. The bottles had been abstracted.
By whom, and by what means?
The cunning hand was Barbara's.
What kind of a woman was I wedded to who spoke so fair and acted so
treacherously, who could smile in my face with secret designs in her
heart against my peace and happiness? I could go even farther than
that, and say against my honor. Fearful lest my indignation might
cause me to lose control over myself and lead to a scandalous scene, I
locked the trunk and left the hotel. In the open air I could more
calmly review the deplorable position into which I had been betrayed.
It is the correct word to use. Treacherously, basely, had I been
betrayed.
It was long before I was sufficiently composed to apply myself to the
consideration of the plan by means of which Barbara obtained the
bottles of brandy. The lock of the trunk had not been tampered with,
and no force had been used in opening it. She must have had a
duplicate key. How did she become possessed of it?
I examined my keys, and I fancied I discerned traces of wax upon them.
I inquired my way to the nearest locksmith, and giving him the bunch
asked whether an impression in wax had been taken of any of them.
"Of a certainty, monsieur," he said, "else I could not have made
them."
"It is you, then, who made the duplicates?"
"Assuredly, it is I, monsieur."
"Of how many?"
"Of two, monsieur."
"Of these two?" indicating the keys of my two trunks.
"Exactly, monsieur."
"From impressions in wax which you received."
"Yes, yes, monsieur," he said, redundantly affirmative. "Have you come
to ask for them? But they were delivered and paid for last night."
"By a thin-faced, middle-aged woman, with gray eyes and a white face?"
"The description is perfect. I trust the keys are to your
satisfaction, and that they fit the locks."
"They fit admirably," I said, and I gave him good morning.
Annette! She was in my wife's pay; together they had conspired against
me. The first practical step towards obtaining access to my boxes was
taken when Barbara informed me that she had mislaid one of her keys,
and borrowed my bunch; then the impressions in wax, and Annette going
to the locksmith to give the order; then the packet containing the
keys which Annette had secretly conveyed to my wife while my back was
turned; then Barbara's complaint this morning that my cigar made her
ill, and my going out to smoke. During my absence my trunk was opened
and rifled. The petty little mystery was solved.
It was late when I returned to the hotel. I expected a stormy scene,
it being now two hours after the time I had appointed to take Barbara
to see the sights of Paris; but she was not in our rooms to reproach
me. In the bedroom I noticed that two padlocks had been newly fixed to
each of her trunks. I went into the office to make inquiries.
"Madame is out," said the manager.
"On foot?"
"No, monsieur; in the carriage that was ordered."
"Did she go alone?"
"No, monsieur; Annette accompanied her."
"Annette!" I exclaimed. "Has she not her duties to attend to here?"
"She is no longer in our service," was the reply. "She is engaged by
madame. It was sudden, but she begged to be allowed to leave. Your
wife implored also, monsieur, and as another woman who had been with
us before as chambermaid was ready to take her place, we consented--to
oblige madame."
"Is Annette a good servant?"
"An excellent domestic."
"Trustworthy, honest, and sober?"
"Perfectly. Madame could not desire a better."
Every word he spoke was in Annette's favor, and I felt that another
burden was on my life. If I could not cope with Barbara alone, how
much less able was I to cope with her now that she had such an ally as
this sly creature?
At five o'clock they came in together, my wife flushed and elated,
Annette quiet and placid as usual.
"I have had a lovely day," said Barbara, as Annette assisted her to
disrobe. "I suppose my dear boy has been running all over the city in
search of me."
"You are mistaken," I replied. "I have not searched for you at all."
"I am not going to believe everything you say, you bad boy," she said,
darting into the bedroom.
I divined the reason; it was to ascertain whether the padlocks on her
boxes had been tampered with. Reassured on this point, she resumed her
chatter.
"How lonely my dear boy must have been! I declare he has been smoking.
Annette, give me my cloves. Will you have one, John? No? Is it not
good of Annette to accept the situation I offered her? She will travel
with us to Switzerland and Italy, and will tell us all we want to know
about the hotels there, and what is worth seeing, and what not. She
will save you no end of money. And what a perfect lady's maid she is!
I wonder what possessed me to leave England without one; but I am glad
now that I did not engage one there, for I could not have got anybody
half so handy and clever as Annette."
While my wife was speaking Annette made no sign, and nothing in her
manner indicated that she understood what was being said in her
praise. Had she been a stone image she could not have shown less
interest. This was carrying acting too far, for her name being
frequently mentioned, she would naturally have exhibited some
curiosity.
"And only thirty-five pounds a year," my wife continued, and would
have continued her prattle had I not interrupted her.
"I should like to speak to you alone, Barbara."
"We are alone, you dear boy." I looked towards the imperturbable woman
she had engaged. "Oh, do you object to Annette? What difference can
she make? She understands no language but her own."
"I should prefer to be alone with you."
"To say disagreeable things, I suppose, when there are no witnesses
present. Oh, I know you. She shall not go."
"Do you think it right to oppose me in such a small matter? Surely we
ought to keep our quarrels to ourselves."
"Who is quarreling?" she retorted. "I am not. And as to what is right
and wrong, I am as good a judge as you."
"Annette," said I, addressing the woman in French, "leave the room."
"Oui, monsieur," she replied, with perfect submissiveness, and was
about to go when my wife said:
"Annette, remain here."
"Oui, madame," she replied, without any indication of surprise at
these contradictory orders. To outward appearance she was an
absolutely passive agent, ready at a word to go hither or thither, to
say yea or nay, without the least feeling or interest in the matter;
but any one who judged her by this standard would have found himself
grievously at fault.
"Very well," I said. "I will postpone speaking of a very serious
subject till I can do so out of the hearing of strangers. I will only
say now that you should not have engaged this woman without consulting
me."
"Indeed, I shall not consult you," returned Barbara, "upon my domestic
arrangements, and I am astonished at your interference. It is I who
have to attend to them, and I will not be thwarted and ordered to do
this or that. You think a wife is a slave; I will show you that she is
not." She paused a moment, and then shrugged her shoulders. "What you
have to say had best be said at once, perhaps. In heaven's name let us
get it over." She stepped to Annette's side, and whispered a word or
two in her ear; the next moment we were alone. "Now, John, what is
it?"
"With the connivance of that woman you have had false keys made, with
which, in my absence--artfully contrived by yourself--you have opened
my trunks."
"Go on."
"You admit it."
"I admit nothing. Go on."
"With those false keys you ransacked my trunks, and stole certain
articles from them."
"Stole?" she cried with a scornful laugh. "A proper word for you to
use."
"Never mind the word----"
"But I shall mind the word. You will be dictating to me next how I
shall express myself. If there is a thief here, it is you. I call you
thief to your face. You ought to feel flattered that I followed your
example, but nothing seems to please you. And you should consider, my
dear--what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. You opened
my trunks on the sly; I opened yours on the sly, and took possession
of my property which you had stolen from me."
"I admit," I said, speaking without passion, "that I was wrong----"
"Oh, indeed! And that admission justifies you?"
"The end justified me; what I found justified me."
"In your opinion, because you can do no wrong. Seriously, my love, do
you look upon me as a child, and do you think I will allow myself to
be spied upon and robbed with impunity?"
"What I did was for your good."
"Allow me, if you please, to be the judge of what is good for me. Will
it offend you to hear me say that no gentleman would act as you have
done?"
It would have been wiser, perhaps, had I refrained from uttering the
retort that rose to my lips.
"Would any lady act as you have acted?"
But who can control himself when he is brought face to face with an
overwhelming and undeserved misfortune.
"Best leave ladies and gentlemen out of the question," she said,
mockingly. "As you pay me the compliment of declaring that I am not a
lady, pay me the further compliment of designating what I am."
I was silent.
"I will give you a little lesson in frankness, my dear. When I married
you I believed I was marrying a man of honor, unfortunately I was
mistaken. It has not taken me long to discover that my husband is a
common spy--attached to the detective office, probably, the sort of
man who listens at keyholes and searches his wife's pockets when she
is asleep. Don't forget, love, that it was you who commenced it. If I
were a milksop I should sit down and weep, as some poor creatures do,
but I am not a milksop; I can protect myself. Therefore, John. I am
not going to make myself unhappy; I am much too sensible. I am not an
old woman yet, and I intend to enjoy my life. And now, my dear," she
added, after a moment's pause, "I am waiting for your next insult."
"I am afraid it is useless to argue with you," I said, sadly.
"Upon this subject, quite useless," she replied. "Upon any other I am
your humble servant. Have you finished, then? Thank you. Annette!"
The woman came in so promptly as to convince me that she had been
listening in the passage.
"She waited outside by my orders," said my wife, laughing.
I left them together.