A REMARKABLE MEETING
When Jack Gardner returned to the dining-room after his interview with
Radnor, he was vaguely troubled, notwithstanding the fact that he was
also highly amused. There were elements associated with the thing he
had just done that might stir up unpleasant consequences. His
inordinate love for a practical joke had led him into it willingly,
and he had thought he saw in this affair the best and greatest joke he
had ever attempted to perpetrate. But he began to understand that
there was a tragic element to it which he could not deny to himself;
and, when he was in the act of resuming his chair beside Beatrice, he
was more than half-inclined, even then, to rush from the building in
the pursuit of Burke Radnor, and to withdraw the whole story that he
had given to the newspaper man.
When, a few moments later, Radnor's card was brought to Duncan, the
sense of impending disaster was stronger than ever upon Gardner, and
he watched the departure of the young millionaire with many
misgivings, not one of which he could have defined in words. But he
watched the doorway through which Duncan passed, and, during the
interval that ensued, he was very palpably disturbed and uneasy. He
had recognized the card, although he had been unable to see the name
that was engraved upon it. He had not supposed that Radnor would so
quickly pursue his investigation of the story, and it had not even
remotely occurred to the young copper-king, that the newspaper man
would dare to go so far as to seek an immediate interview with Duncan.
Even had the man selected Beatrice, it would not have been quite so
bad.
Nobody knew Duncan better than did Jack Gardner, and he realized what
a strong and stirring effect this fake-story, as made up between
himself and Beatrice, might have upon one who was such a stickler for
certain forms as he knew Duncan to be. His impulse was to follow his
friend from the room, but he resisted it, although he did keep his
gaze spasmodically fixed upon the door by which Roderick must reenter
the dining-room.
Gardner was the first of the party to discover him, when he did
return, and was quick to see that something unusual had happened
during the interval outside, which had been all too short to have
been fruitful of any other result than violence of some sort. He saw,
by the set expression of his friend's face and by the pallor upon it,
that something had gone wrong, and he started to his feet and moved
rapidly forward, so that he met Duncan half-way between the entrance
and the table where Beatrice and Sally Gardner were now left alone
together. He grasped his friend by the arm, and drew him aside, saying
rapidly, as he did so:
"For God's sake, Dun, what has happened? Tell me quickly."
Roderick Duncan looked down calmly, and without change of expression
upon Gardner, for he was considerably taller than his friend; and he
said, slowly, in reply:
"Without answering your question, Jack, I wish to ask you one. Was it
Burke Radnor whom you were called out to meet, a little while ago, in
the reception-room?"
Not thinking of the possible consequences of his response, Gardner
admitted, hastily, that it had been Radnor, and Duncan asked another
question.
"Did Radnor question you about a marriage-ceremony that is supposed to
have taken place between Beatrice Brunswick and myself, to-night?"
"Well, you see--"
"Answer me yes, or no, Jack, if you please."
"Well, then, he did."
"Have you any idea, Jack, where he obtained the nucleus for such a
story?"
Gardner hesitated, and Duncan from his greater height, bent forward
quickly, and with a strong grip, seized the young copper-king by the
shoulder.
"Jack Gardner," he demanded, "did you, at the instigation of Beatrice,
concoct that story? Have I you to thank for it? You need not answer,
Jack. I can read the reply in the expression of your face." He
withdrew his hand from its detaining grasp upon his friend, and took a
half-step backward; then, he added: "Jack, if we were anywhere else
than in a public dining-room, I should resent what you have done
bitterly--and by actions, not words. As it is, I demand that you
instantly seek, and find, Burke Radnor, and retract whatever you have
said, or inferred, during your conversation with him. I warn you,
Gardner, that if one single line appears in any of the papers
to-morrow morning on this subject I'll find a way to resent it, which
will make you regret, all your life, your nameless conduct of
to-night."
Gardner turned decidedly pale, not because of any physical fear he
felt of Duncan, but in dread of the possible consequences of what he
had permitted himself to do.
"Where is Radnor, now?" he exclaimed, quickly.
"I left him half-conscious, on the floor of the reception-room,"
replied Duncan, calmly. "I knocked him down."
"Good God!" exclaimed Gardner; and he turned and rushed away with
precipitate haste.
Duncan went on toward the table at which Beatrice and Sally were
seated, but as he approached it, a desire to hear the sound of
Patricia's voice possessed him, and he turned abruptly toward that
other table, occupied by Stephen Langdon, with his daughter and the
lawyer.
Devoting a careless nod to the two men, Duncan addressed his fiancee,
speaking loudly enough so that her companions might hear.
"Patricia," he said, "will you do me a very great favor? It is of
vital importance, otherwise I would not ask it."
"Indeed?" she replied, raising her big, dark eyes to his. "Your
question and your manner as well imply something that is almost
tragic, Roderick. What is it that you wish me to do?"
"A very little thing, Patricia. Will you, for a moment, accompany me
to the table where Beatrice and Sally Gardner are dining?"
"Why, most certainly," she replied. "You give a very big reason for a
very small thing, don't you? Of course, I will go to them." She left
her seat instantly, and crossed to the other table; Duncan followed,
closely. Patricia accepted the chair that Jack Gardner had occupied,
which Duncan drew out for her. Then, he resumed his own. As soon as
they were seated, the young millionaire, drawing his chair a bit
closer, said, addressing them, generally:
"I have something to say which I wish each of you to hear. To-night, a
rumor has been started, somehow, that Miss Brunswick and I were
married an hour or so ago, at the Church of the Transfiguration."
Patricia gave a slight start, but he continued, unheedingly: "A
certain newspaper man, Radnor by name, has already sought to interview
me, and he went so far as to insist that he was positive in his
assertions as to such a ceremony having taken place. Of course,
Beatrice and I both know it to be untrue, and I now make this
statement in order to warn you all of what may possibly appear in the
morning papers; that is all I have to say on the subject."
Beatrice had flushed hotly at the beginning of his statement, and,
while he continued, she turned deadly pale. Sally, who it will be
remembered had not been taken into the confidence of the intriguers,
laughed. Patricia was the only one who appeared to be unmoved by the
announcement, but she kept her eyes fixed upon the face of her friend,
and she correctly interpreted the changing colors and expressions of
Beatrice Brunswick's face.
Whatever might have been the consequences of Duncan's announcement and
Miss Brunswick's emotions, her conscious blushes and subsequent
pallor, it was interrupted by the sudden and swift return of Gardner,
who exclaimed, excitedly:
"Sally, I want you right away; and you, too, Beatrice. It's almost a
matter of life and death. Never mind the supper--we can have one some
other time. Duncan, you won't mind, will you, if I take them away?" He
leaned forward and added, in a whisper: "I am carrying out what you
asked me to do, and I need their help." Then, straightening himself,
he addressed Patricia: "You will excuse us all, won't you? Come,
Sally; for heaven's sake, make haste! There isn't a moment of time to
lose."
Sally Gardner had never seen her husband in quite such a state of
excitement, but as she was one of the kind that is always ready for
anything in the shape of adventure, and scented one here, she lost no
time in complying with his request. Beatrice's expression was first of
amusement; then, of comprehension. Almost before any of the party
fully realized what had happened, Jack Gardner and his companions were
gone. Patricia and Roderick Duncan were alone at the table.
She turned her expressive eyes toward him and regarded him closely,
but in silence, for a moment. Then, in a low tone, she inquired:
"May I ask if you understand this amazing succession of incidents? To
me, it is entirely incomprehensible. If you can explain it, I wish you
would do so."
"I am afraid, Patricia, that it cannot be explained--that is, any
farther than I've already done so," he replied.
"Who is responsible for this remarkable story you say the newspaper
man asked you about?"
Duncan hesitated. Then, he replied:
"When Beatrice and I left the opera-house to-night, we entered a
taxicab, and we did drive as far as the iron gateway that admits one
to the Church of the Transfiguration. We did not enter; in fact, we
did not leave the cab at all. It is possible, though hardly probable,
that we were followed by some reporter."
"But why did you drive to the Church of the Transfiguration, at all?"
she asked him, with a smile upon her face that had something of
derision in it, for she plainly saw that Duncan was floundering badly
in his effort to explain. When he hesitated for a suitable reply, she
continued: "Why, may I ask, did you leave the box at the opera-house,
in such a surreptitious manner? It seems to me that the Church of the
Transfiguration was an odd destination for you to have selected, when
you did leave it, with Beatrice for a companion. Or was there a
pre-arrangement between you. Was it her suggestion, or was it yours,
Roderick?"
"It was mine," he replied; and he could not help smiling at the
recollection of it, even though the present moment was filled with
tragic possibilities.
"It seems to amuse you," she told him.
"It does--now."
"Had you, for the moment, forgotten that you were under contract with
me, for Monday morning?"
Instead of replying at once, he leaned forward half-across the table
toward her, and, fixing his gaze steadily upon her, said, with low
earnestness:
"Patricia, for God's sake, let us cease all this fencing; let us put
an end to this succession of misunderstandings. You know how I love
you! You know--"
"I know that this is a very badly chosen time and place for you to
make such declarations, or for me to listen to them. Will you come
back with me now to the other table, and join Mr. Melvin and my
father? People have begun to observe us. If these rumors bear any
fruits, such a course seems to me to be the best one to adopt, under
the circumstances."
She arose without awaiting his reply, and he followed her.
"Melvin," he said to the lawyer, as soon as he was seated at the other
table, "Miss Langdon will agree with me, I think, that it is quite
necessary I should accompany you to your home when we leave this
place, in order to examine with you certain papers which you have
drawn, or are to draw, at her request. Have I your permission,
Patricia?" he added.
"I see no objection, if that is what you mean," Patricia replied;
"although I think it would be better that we should all drive together
to Mr. Melvin's house for the papers--"
"I have them here, in my pocket," the lawyer interrupted her.
"So much the better, then," Patricia continued, rapidly. "I think the
best arrangement, all circumstances considered, would be to go
together to my father's house, so that all the interested parties may
be present at the interview."
Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, this was agreed upon, and in
due time the four were grouped in the library of the Langdon home,
where Malcolm Melvin, with the notes he had made that afternoon before
him, began in a monotonous voice to read the stipulations of the
document upon which Patricia Langdon had decided that she could rely,
to supply a soothing balm for her wounded pride. It was a strange
gathering to assemble at two o'clock in the morning, but none of them,
save possibly the lawyer, seemed cognizant of the curious aspect of
the meeting.