Mrs. Winslow's Signal answered.-- She endeavors to win
Bristol, and shows that they are "Affinities."-- Detective
Fox mystified.-- An Evening with the One fair Woman.--
Closer Intimacies.-- A Journey proposed.-- Detective
Bristol as a Lover.
Back in the streets of Rochester, Bristol followed Mrs. Winslow with
much wonderment and some anxiety as to the result, not sure as to
whether any of the three lovely women had noticed his leaving at the
call of their hated rival, and cogitating what the woman might want with
him.
They soon arrived at the Garden, the woman frequently looking back to
assure herself that the retired banker was following her, and finally
passed into the Fields and took a booth, where she ordered a bottle of
wine, which gave her right to its occupancy for an indefinite period;
and as soon as Bristol sauntered in, she signalled him to join her,
which he did with great apparent hesitation and diffidence, and the
general appearance of a man guilty of almost his first wrong intent, but
yet with strong resolution to not let it get the better of him.
She did not remove the delicate lace veil from her face, and it blended
the pretty flush which the exercise had heightened with her naturally
clear complexion in a most artistic way, and toned the light in her
great gray eyes into a languid lustre, very thrilling to behold when one
knows there is a clean life behind such beauty, but as dangerous when
transformed into a winning mask covering the perdition in the heart of a
wicked woman, as the dazzling power of the Prophet of Khorassan.
Bristol was a very courtly sort of fellow, and received a glass of wine
from the neat hand with considerable grace, though inwardly wondering
what it all meant. Their wine-glasses touched, and the cheap nectar was
drunk in silence, Mrs. Winslow only indulging in those little motions
and changes of features that some women believe to be attractive and
fascinating, and which really are so to many susceptible people; and
though Bristol might ordinarily have succumbed to the charms of the
accomplished woman before him--and had he been the retired banker she
supposed him to be would probably have done so--as the sedate, elderly,
and capable detective, he only pretended to be smitten, and coyishly
acknowledged her loving glances with more than ordinary ardor.
Finally, the fair woman, after modestly biting her lips for a time,
began tapping the table with the handle of her fan, and looking Bristol
full in the face, suddenly said:
"Mr. Bristol, aren't you a little curious why I wanted to see you?"
"Any man who is a man," replied Bristol earnestly, "could not but have a
pardonable curiosity when so fair a woman as Mrs. Winslow claims his
attention!"
"There, there," said she laughing, and extending her hands across the
table as if in a burst of confidence, "let us wave formalities; let us
be friends."
Bristol took her proffered hands rather stiffly, but held them as long
as was necessary, as they were pretty hands, warm hands, and hands that
could grasp another's with a good show of honesty, too.
"There is no reason why we shouldn't," he said gallantly, as she poured
out another glass of wine.
"Only one," answered Mrs. Winslow archly. "The three Graces don't like
me, and they are bound we sha'n't meet. Now," she continued, again
tapping the table nervously with her fan, and then raising her fine
eyebrows and looking at Bristol half anxiously, half tenderly, and
altogether meltingly, "_I_ feel as though we had been acquainted for
years. Don't think me bold, Mr. Bristol, but I have had you in my
thoughts much--possibly _too_ much," she added with the faintest trace
of a blush; "but if I could feel that this--I was going to say
attachment, though that would be quite improper, and I will
say--unexplainable regard I have formed for you was in the least measure
reciprocated----"
Bristol interrupted her with: "I think I can assure you that it is, at
least, in a proper measure."
"Then," she continued, apparently radiant with happiness, "as I was
about to say, I am sure it could be arranged so that we could be more in
each other's society. You know who I am?" she abruptly and almost
suspiciously asked.
Bristol was almost put off his guard by the sudden change of the
subject, but parried the question with: "Certainly not; at least no more
than through what I have been told at the restaurant."
Tears started in her well-trained eyes, but she impetuously brushed them
away and followed the pretty piece of acting with: "Oh, Mr. Bristol! I
fear we may never be to each other what we might have been if these
three old hags--I mean old maids--had not poisoned your mind regarding
me. Let me tell you," and she took hold of his collar and drew the
reluctant detective towards her, "they are trying to get your
money--your vast wealth. Let a comparatively unknown friend whisper in
your ear, '_Beware!_'"
Bristol started, adjusted his glasses, grasped Mrs. Winslow's hand, and,
as if very much frightened and extremely grateful, said heartily and
with great fervor, "My dear madam, for this kindness I am yours to
command!"
The woman evidently felt assured from that moment that she had made a
conquest; but her varied experience and professional tact, as well as
her native shrewdness, prevented her from expressing too great gayety
over it, and she proceeded to inform Bristol how keen and shrewd the old
ladies under Washington Hall were; how in confidence they had told her
that they would compel him to marry one of them, and were going to draw
cuts to determine which should carry off the prize; and when that was
settled, if he did not marry the fortunate person willingly, their
combined evidence would bring him down, or despoil him of a great
portion of his wealth, which, she had no doubt, he had acquired by long
years of honest toil.
Bristol expressed himself aghast at the depravity of women, and told
Mrs. Winslow that it seemed to him that the nearer the grave they got
the more terrible their greed and hideousness became.
Mrs. Winslow murmured that _she_ was not so very, _very_ old.
"Quite the contrary," said Bristol, gallantly, "and even when you become
so, I am sure--very sure, that you will prove a marked exception."
An expression of pleasure flitted into her face, succeeded by one of
evident pain--pleasure, probably, that she had made another dupe as she
supposed; pain, that in one swift moment there had flashed into her mind
some terrible picture of her cursed, lonely, homeless old age, when the
whole world should scoff at her and thrust her from it, like the vile
thing that she was and the hideous thing that she would surely become;
both followed by the set features, where the cruel light came into her
eyes and the swift shuttles of crimson and ashy paleness shot over her
curled lips--the outward semblance of the inward tigress, that, though
diverted for an instant by some little sunlight-flash of either
tenderness or regret, never could be won from its irrevocably awful
nature!
But it was all gone as soon as it had come, and she sat there, to all
appearances a handsome woman, as modestly and carefully as possible
encroaching upon the grounds of a first after-marriage flirtation, and
in a few moments pleasantly said: "I have become so interested in
you, Mr. Bristol, that I have found myself asking the question: Why is
it that this gentleman is continually in my mind? until, do you know, I
have such a curiosity about you that I shall be perfectly delighted to
get better acquainted with you."
Bristol gracefully acknowledged the compliment by stating to her that he
himself, since he had seen her, had had a strange feeling that he should
know more about her, and the presentiment was still so strong upon him
that he was now quite sure that he _should_.
"Ever since I saw you I have felt that we should become intimate,"
continued Mrs. Winslow radiantly.
"And I may myself confess that ever since I saw you, Mrs. Winslow, I
really _knew_ that I should be obliged to search you out and remain near
you."
Mrs. Winslow blushed and coyishly asked: "Mr. Bristol, do you believe in
affinities?"
[Illustration: _"Do you believe in affinities, Mr. Bristol?"--_]
"Most assuredly."
"So do I, and as we have sat here together, it has seemed to me that the
good spirits were hovering over and around us, and had been, and were
even now, whispering to us the sacredness of the affinity which surely
must exist between us."
Mrs. Winslow said this in a kind of rhapsody of emotion, which betokened
both an air of sincerity derived from frequent repetition and long
practice, and a sort of superstitious belief in what she herself said;
and then poured out another glass of wine for each, while Bristol
remarked as he drank, that of late years these spirits had been a great
source of comfort to him, and that their free circulation was a good
thing for society.
An hour or two was pleasantly beguiled in this manner, but Bristol
hardly knew what course to pursue, and began to feel that in the absence
of instructions he might become altogether too familiar with the
charming woman who was making such an effort to please him. But he dare
not cause her to become angry at him, for that would destroy his
usefulness, and she seemed bound that he should admire her; so, as he
had been directed by me to continue the _rôle_ of the "retired banker,"
he concluded it would be better to humor Mrs. Winslow in the belief that
he was smitten by her, as she showed great anxiety that it should be so.
Accordingly, when she proposed that he should call at her apartments
that evening, he acceded to the request with such a show of pleasure
that Mrs. Winslow could not restrain her gratification, but rose and
terminated the interview by slapping Bristol heartily on the shoulder
and calling him a "dear old trump, anyhow!" And Fox, who was reading the
morning paper over a glass of beer at a little table not more than ten
feet distant, looked in blank astonishment at Bristol, as if fearing
that the woman had really bewitched him; while little Le Compte, who
stood at the entrance beyond, looked the very picture of abject jealousy
as he saw his darling lavishing endearments upon a man old enough to be
her father.
Mrs. Winslow passed out of the Fields, and noticing Le Compte, who was
retreating as rapidly as possible, beckoned to him, and when he had
approached her near enough for her to speak to him, gave him a few
quick, angry words that sent him at a rapid pace over the railroad
bridge in the direction of his rooms; while she, after a parting smile
at the beaming Bristol, who stood radiantly in the Fields' entrance,
walked into St. Paul street, and from thence back and forth past the
restaurant, where the three deserted old maids might witness her stride
of triumph; while Bristol joined Fox at a retired spot under the shade
of the trees overhanging the brink of the precipice rising from the
gorge of the Genesee River, and explained the status of affairs which
had all unconsciously to himself drawn him from his quiet work into an
awful whirlpool of love and all that the term implied. Fox felt much
relieved at this information, and at once proceeded home, while Bristol,
with a guilty look in his face, returned to the little restaurant, where
he found a dispatch from me stating that Mrs. Winslow intended going to
Canada two days later, as I had been very positively informed by Le
Compte, and directing him to in some manner keep her company and never
let her make a move or meet a person without his knowledge.
Bristol hardly saw how he was to do this, but concluded that it might be
best to wait until after his interview with his charmer in the evening,
so that he could also forward the result of that with his regular
report; and after expressing unbounded regret at being obliged to part
from the three graces and a little card-party they had arranged, he
proceeded to Mrs. Winslow's apartments, which had seemingly been
specially arranged for his reception.
The mistress of the place was most elegantly attired, and greeted the
"retired banker" with such grace and marked esteem, that Fox, at his
lonely window opposite, almost felt jealous of the attention bestowed
upon his comrade by their mutual quarry.
If ever a woman endeavored to make herself irresistibly winning, it was
Mrs. Winslow on that night. She threw off all reserve at once, and was
all smiles, pleasant words, and pretty ways. The rooms were most
beautifully arranged, and where splendid flowers failed to furnish
aroma, the delicate odors of art took their place. A very shrewd woman
was Mrs. Winslow--a woman who was supreme in the art of providing
_bijouterie_ to appeal to the sensuous in men's natures. In her
conversation, which apparently was lady-like enough when guarded, there
was always more suggested than said. The tone, the smile, the eye, the
gesture, the touch--every movement, glance, or sound, betokened an
unexpressed _something_ ready at any moment to be brought forward to
crush down a weakening resolution, and sweep from existence so much of
good or purity as might come into her baleful presence. She had rich
game in Bristol, she thought. Why could she not work this with the Lyon
case, bring to a successful termination a half-dozen other cases she was
working up, secure a big pile of spoil at one time, and then with her
little Le Compte glide away to _La Belle France_, where with his wit and
her winning ways and wisdom, she might yet amass vast wealth in levying
upon the personal and family pride of the thousands of rich numskulls
who annually throng the gay capital.
And so to any man but a duty-doing detective that evening would have
been a thrilling one. As it was, it was a hard one for Bristol, who knew
that Fox's lynx eyes were upon him from across the street, who had to
invent legend after legend regarding his life, his present and his
imaginary future, and who was obliged under any circumstances not only
to please the woman, but to preserve himself blameless--two things to
ordinary men quite difficult to manage.
During the hour that Bristol remained with her she intimated to him the
propriety of his securing another boarding-place, so that they might
enjoy each other's society without the annoyance to which the old maids
would subject them both should he remain there. He had wanted to make a
change, Bristol said, but his long and varied experience had made him
cautious, and he never gave up one good thing until he had secured a
better. How would as pleasant a place as this do, Mrs. Winslow wanted to
know? She had been thinking of renting the entire flat, she said, and
then re-renting it to select parties, like Mr. Bristol, who were willing
to pay a good price for a really luxurious place in which to live.
Bristol was apparently flattered by her regard for him, which had, of
course, alone suggested the matter to her mind; but, being an elderly
gentleman of conservative habits, he required time to think the matter
over. In any event, it couldn't but be a pleasant theme for
contemplation.
In fact, they got along famously together; so much so, indeed, that
before Bristol had taken his departure, Mrs. Winslow had pressed him to
accompany her on a trip of both business and pleasure to Toronto, and
had so urgently presented the request that he had half consented to go,
and was quite sure that he would be able to do so, unless some
unexpected business transaction should detain him. In any case, he would
be able to inform her by the next afternoon, he said, as he gallantly
bade her good-night, and observed Le Compte scowling upon him from the
dark end of the hall beyond.
Bristol hastened to the post-office and added the events of the evening
to his daily report, which reached me the next afternoon, when I
telegraphed to him to proceed with Mrs. Winslow, as her friend; but
while pleasing her by feigning extreme regard, to be discreet, and not
put himself too much in her power, nor to allow her to advance any of
her other schemes by a sort of exhibition of him as her champion and
protector.
Mrs. Winslow was made very happy by Bristol's acceptance of her
invitation, and, at her suggestion, they took the train for Port
Charlotte as strangers--Mrs. Winslow informing Bristol that the "old
scoundrel," meaning Lyon, was having her watched, she believed, but she
would outwit him at every point; but on arriving at the Port the loving
couple got together quite naturally, and soon after were on board a
steamer bound for Port Hope.
It was one of those dreamy, hazy days of early September, when the
disappearing shore seemed to gradually take upon itself a tint of blue
as deep as that of the sky above and as pure as that of the waters
below, which on this day was almost as smooth as a mirror, only broken
by long, far-reaching swells that seemed to have neither beginning nor
end, but which here and there swept away in endless ribbons of liquid
light, while the trailing wake of the steamer seemed in the pleasant sun
like some marvellous and limitless lace-work flung across the water in
wanton richness and profusion.
It was a lovely day for love, and to an unprejudiced observer Bristol
and Mrs. Winslow improved it. At Charlotte the woman spoke of the matter
in such a way that Bristol understood that she would not object to make
the trip as his wife, but he innocently failed to catch the meaning of
her covert invitation, and was only the attentive admirer during the
entire trip. But in the cabin, or seated coyishly together under a huge
sunshade upon the forward deck, they were as fine a couple as one would
care to see, while the woman seemed unusually affectionate and
agreeable.
Arriving at Port Hope after a few hours, the couple took the night train
for the West, and arrived at Toronto at midnight, being driven to the
Queen's Hotel. They had become so confidential and intimate by this time
that Mrs. Winslow again suggested the propriety of travelling under more
intimate relations than they had done, but was again carefully diverted
from her purpose by the assumed innocence of the venerable detective,
who saw that her real purpose was to secure evidence of having travelled
as his wife, in order to have a future power over him, as she certainly
believed him to be a man of great wealth.
She had told him that she had business that would prevent her seeing him
during the next day, at which he expressed extreme regret, and they
retired to their separate apartments for the night.