HOW THE ERRAND ENDED
"Don't you know, Swift," Maillot resumed, after a meditative pause,
"that it's a mighty easy matter to misjudge a man? Certain reports
concerning a person become current, for example, and before we know
it--perhaps without giving the matter a thought--we gradually grow to
accept them as accurately descriptive of his personality.
"I have wondered more than once during the past week whether we have
n't an entirely erroneous conception of every prominent man whom we
don't know intimately. 'By your actions be ye judged'--if we were,
most of us would be condemned out of hand.
"No, sir; it's not by a man's actions that he may be accurately
appraised, but the motives that lie behind those actions; and those
motives are exceedingly difficult to define. The incentive that impels
us to a given act may be all right, the intention to perform it the
best in the world, and then the act itself may be all wrong. Who 's to
blame then? Who more than any other can set himself up to censure our
conduct, or lay down a code of ethics and morals for his neighbor to
follow? I am assuming that you have heard a good deal about my uncle,
and I know the reports concerning him are anything but flattering."
This speech fell in so harmoniously with my own train of reasoning,
that I gave the young man's words the closest attention. Assuming that
he was in fact guilty, as I had already tentatively theorized, then
would not his present utterances appear very like a plea in vindication
of his deed?--or, at least, as an apology? If he were guilty, he was
supplying me the support of a sound argument.
His analysis of motives, at any rate, made me exceedingly regardful of
every shifting light and shade of his really remarkable narrative. I
remained keenly alert not to miss a phase of it, but carefully to
ponder and weigh every one.
However, that narrative must not be retarded.
"Before I came here last night," he took it up once more, "I thought I
had imagined every possible combination of emotions with which my uncle
would receive my brazen offer; but his amazement when he heard me was
as nothing to mine at the way in which he took it.
"First of all, in a gruff, glum sort of way, the old gentleman seemed
really glad to see me; but he was in a hurry to warn me that I had
better get my errand over quickly, as he was contemplating catching a
nine-thirty train for Duluth--for what purpose he did n't say. As the
evening wore on, however, and after I had once or twice hinted that I
could wait till a more opportune time to make known my business, he
impatiently commanded me to proceed; whereupon I naturally concluded
that he had, since my coming, given over the projected trip.
"That fellow Burke was in the hall when I entered; and while there was
nothing in his manner that I could have picked out as hostile, still I
felt vaguely that he resented my intrusion. But why should he? Blamed
if _I_ know. As my uncle and I entered the library, Burke had the
nerve to butt in with a reference to some papers and a reminder that
the Duluth train left at nine-thirty. Maybe you think the old
gentleman did n't turn him down cold--didn't bother Burke in the least,
though, or interrupt the cool, unwavering inspection that he continued
to bestow upon me. The fellow was fairly burning up with curiosity to
find out what my business was.
"Well, after Mr. Page and I got in here, he put it to me bluntly: Did I
want money? If so, how much and what for? Now was n't that an
encouraging beginning in view of what I was after? Nevertheless I was
resolved to do or die; to be heard to the end, or else kicked out of
the house forthwith. That last is what I had coming to me, all
right--it's what I was looking for.
"I began by saying that I simply wanted him to listen to me for a few
minutes--to hear me till I got through--and then he would know well
enough what I was after. I could see that my manner, if not my words,
had aroused his curiosity; thus emboldened, I plunged right in. I told
him of my love for Belle."
The two of them then and there verified this all-absorbing fact by
another interchange of ardent glances. Heaven knows, neither of them
was in the least self-conscious or at all shy over the matter. Miss
Belle seemed to glory in it; to accept his unspoken professions of
devotion with a joyous sort of triumph which crowned her haughty beauty
with the shining mien of a conqueror.
I thought of Mr. Fluette, financier, speculator, man of affairs that he
was, and concluded that I did not at all envy him his self-imposed task
of keeping asunder these two lovers. I wondered, too, in the event he
could be brought to appreciate the depth and sincerity of their
attachment, whether his opposition would still remain obdurate. If so,
the future must be dark and stormy--if not tragic--for him. Here was a
woman, if I read aright, capable of great sacrifices; she was ready to
rush headlong into them, too, if need be.
Ah, well! When did a parent and a lover ever see things from the same
point of view?
Maillot did not pause long.
"When I first mentioned her name,--for as I had to do so, I did it
boldly,--his interest quickened, and I was positive that his attention
became more respectful. He seemed to think quite suddenly that what I
had to say might be of some importance, after all.
"Mr. Page was not given to betraying his mind and emotions; indeed, I
believe he was usually credited with possessing an abundance of the
former to the exclusion of the latter. Nevertheless I knew that he was
interested, for it was at this stage that he irritably silenced my
references to the nine-thirty train.
"Swift, I don't know whether I can make you see it in the way I do. It
is all so marvellous and strange; the canvas is so big, and I can't
handle my colors very well. During the course of my narrative he would
smile now and then, or even chuckle, as though hugely delighted over
some aspect of the subject which did not appear to me as being at all
funny; but the instant I paused, he would promptly command me to
proceed.
"Candidly, his attitude was very mystifying; but since he was not only
harkening to me, but doing so with a marked, if peculiar, attention, I
made the best of an extremely disagreeable task, and pleaded my cause
with all the ardor of which I was capable."
I here caught Miss Cooper indulging in a furtive little smile.
"When I concluded by bluntly asking him for the ruby, his face was a
study." Maillot drew a long breath, and shook his head over the
recollection.
"I wouldn't again undergo the ordeal of the succeeding minutes for a
whole bushel-basketful of rubies, every one as large and priceless as
the blessed stone I was after. It was a question whether I 'd have to
defend myself from a sudden assault, or be treated as a dangerous
lunatic. And all the time he sat there twiddling his thumbs,
apparently oblivious of my presence.
"I can see the old gentleman now. He was sitting there where Miss
Cooper is, his chin on his breast, and from time to time he would take
me in with a look from beneath his gathered brows, which, for sheer,
downright hyperborean iciness, had a Dakota blizzard backed away down
to the equator and stewing in its own perspiration. I was afraid to
say anything more, and at the same time I was wild with impatience to
get some inkling of what was going on behind his impassive crust.
"And, Swift, you never, never could guess how that silence was broken.
He suddenly tossed his head back, and burst out with a great guffaw of
laughter. I jumped clear out of my chair.
"'What a nephew!' he cried, while I stood staring at him in dumb
astonishment. 'Good Lord, what I 've missed by not knowing you all
these years! A chip off of the old block!' He abruptly squared round
on me, and paid me a compliment very similar to one I had heard a few
nights before.
"'See here, my boy,' said he, admiringly, 'for pure and unlimited
cheek, you 're in a class by yourself. Why, the very audacity of your
impudence is not without its attraction! Here you come into my house
and ask me to stand and deliver a fortune, with all the light and airy
assurance of a bill-collector. And the best of it is that you are dead
in earnest, too--oh, Lord!' And he went off into another gale of
laughter.
"I here timidly mentioned the fact that I had never in my life been
more dead in earnest.
"'Earnest!' he barked at me. 'D' ye suppose I can't tell when a man
means what he says? Humph!
"'But see here, my lad, it's a pity we were n't drawn together years
ago,' he broke off to snap at me. 'Sit down! I 'm not going to
bite--if I am a "hound."'
"Well! I dropped back into my chair, where I sat blinking, a good deal
bewildered, realizing only dimly that I had not been thrown bodily from
the house, and, after a while, that he was not even angry.
"On the contrary, he seemed to be in the best of spirits. Presently he
began to put me through a cross-examination, which I can recommend as a
model for any one to follow who wants to elicit the minutiae of detail
of another fellow's life.
"Before he finished, he had dragged out everything that had ever
occurred to me with which anybody bearing the name of Fluette was even
remotely associated--a complete history of Belle's and my acquaintance,
everything I knew or had ever heard about Mrs. Fluette, all about
Genevieve, and every word that I could remember that had ever passed
between Mr. Fluette and myself.
"He took me through my talk with Mr. Fluette last Wednesday night I
don't how many times--anyhow, until he must have had it pretty well
photographed upon his mind. For some mysterious reason, he seemed to
relish the epithet by which Mr. Fluette had referred to him. I 'll bet
I repeated that part of our conversation a score of times; and every
time I uttered the word 'hound' Mr. Page chuckled.
"But by and by I came to observe that each mention of either Belle or
Mrs. Fluette was received with a courtesy and respect for which I could
not account. I was at last moved to ask him whether he was acquainted
with them; but he testily shook his head, and bade me with some
asperity not to ask questions. He dropped into a brown study pretty
soon, so I shut up.
"When he spoke again his words effectively banished all speculation
from my mind; in fact, they left me speechless. Of a sudden he looked
at me with a sly smile.
"'My boy,' he said, almost in a whisper, 'the ruby 's yours.'"
Thereupon, Maillot declared, Mr. Page inquired whether he had ever seen
the ruby; to which the young man replied in the negative. The fire on
the hearth had by that time sunk to a glowing bed of coals, and, save
for the dim ruddy glow, the illumination was afforded by means of a
single candle--just sufficient to make of the commodious library a
place of ghostly shadows, and failing to relieve its farther reaches
from utter gloom and darkness.
"It's a bonny bit of glass," the old gentleman had next said. "It's as
compact a package, I daresay, as one can crowd a fortune into. I 'll
get it." With a brusque injunction to his nephew to remain where he
was, he took the candle and disappeared behind the curtains of the
alcove, which, as the reader will remember, concealed the passageway
extending thence, through the conservatory, and into the bedroom.
Maillot could not say how long his uncle was gone; he was still too
full of awe and wonder to note the passage of time; but by and by Mr.
Page returned, bearing the lighted candle in one hand and a small,
worn, leather box in the other.
The first he placed upon the table immediately, and then, after
resuming his chair, laid the little leather box in front of himself.
He sat absently tapping it with his fingers, and from time to time
regarding his nephew with the same secret, indecipherable smile which
the young man had already observed and wondered at.
And now we approach the most startling, the most mystifying, stage of
this amazing conference.
"Before giving you this ruby," said Mr. Page, after a while, "I 'm
going to bind you to a few conditions--for your own protection," he had
hastily added, with a grin, when the young man's face suddenly
lengthened at this unexpected contingency. "You 'll agree fast enough
after you 've heard me. If you don't, you don't get the Paternoster
ruby"--and with a peculiar little laugh--"most people would agree to
anything for that, my lad."
Maillot's interest was now centred upon the conditions; and they at
once became a part of the fairy tale of which he was the
beggar-transformed-into-a-prince hero--so much were they of a nature to
add to his elation, rather than provoke objections.
Therefore he promptly acquiesced in their terms, binding himself upon
his honor as a gentleman to fulfil them to the letter.
"Take this little box to Fluette," were the words with which his uncle
charged him; "show him the contents, but"--and here Maillot said the
old gentleman probed him through and through with a look--"on no
account allow the ruby to go out of your possession--not even for the
briefest instant. Whatever else he may be, Alfred Fluette is no fool.
Once he gets his fingers on this ruby, there 's no telling what he 'll
try to put over on you. Of course he has no idea that you took him at
his word, but I reckon he 'll have to believe the evidence of his own
senses."
Mr. Page had here rubbed his hands together in secret delight, and
Maillot said that his eyes sparkled as he proceeded.
"Then you can make him come to terms. We 'll see which he wants to
keep the worst--his daughter, or the ruby he 's sweat blood to
get. . . . Won't let his daughter marry a man that has a drop of this
'hound's' blood in his veins, hey?" Page had snarled. "Well, you just
watch the old 'hound' close his jaws." Suddenly he became the
masterful, domineering man the world knew; he addressed Maillot in the
curt, incisive tones which never failed to exact obedience.
"You tell him this, young man, exactly as I am telling it to you. Tell
him you have performed your part of the bargain; tell him that the
second Miss Belle is yours, the ruby shall be his; tell him he shall
never get his hands on it one tick of the clock before.
"He won't hesitate; I know Alfred Fluette. If you follow my
instructions explicitly, the young lady will be Mrs. Royal Maillot by
this time tomorrow night. If I 'm not very much mistaken, he 'll be
the most astounded man in the world when you open the box. You want to
do it, too--open it under his nose; dazzle his eyes--hypnotize him with
its blood-red flame." He had been working himself slowly into a
passion; now it ended in a violent outburst. "Make the old dog get
down on his hunkers and beg, d'ye hear? Make him whine! Then close
the box and put it in your pocket. . . . A 'hound,' am I?"
He sat silent for a while, then went on quite calmly, in his former
concise manner.
"I 'll give you a line over my signature--he has mighty good reasons
for recognizing it on sight--so he can't dispute your right to bargain
with him. Then--"
Maillot's eagerness and impatience were so intense that he had been
unable to restrain himself when the old gentleman lapsed most
vexatiously into a revery.
"Well?" Maillot had urged.
"Marry the girl. Then give Fluette the Paternoster ruby. Bring your
wife to me--for after all is said and done, Royal, I 'm a lonely old
man. I 'll see you started on a honeymoon that will make old Fluette
open his eyes still wider. You never heard that I was stingy when I
wanted to gratify a whim, did you? Well, it's my whim that this thing
be done in the best style. I 'll have to leave that part of it to you.
You just go ahead and do the proper thing--and send me the bills. . . .
_Hound_? Bah!"
Mr. Page sat toying with the jewel-box many minutes before he expressed
himself as confident that Maillot would carry out his instructions to
the letter; then, without warning, he pressed the spring and the lid
flew open.
The gem lay between them like a splash of crimson flame.