his countenance betrayed his relief and joy. "It is almost too late
and I thought the young woman had not attended to sending them, that
she had failed me."
"She would not fail you, sir," said Clarissa, earnestly, allowing
herself in the protection her assumed character gave her the pleasure
of giving utterance to her feeling of regard for the young man. "She
would not fail, sir, she could not fail you. Oh, you wrong her, if you
think she could ever break her word to you."
Asbury Fuller bent an inscrutable look upon Clarissa and then bidding
her remain until his return, hastily left the room. But though he was
gone, Clarissa sat gloating upon the mental picture of his manly
beauty. He seemed taller than before, for the stoop he had worn in the
afternoon had now departed and he stood erect and muscular in the suit
of full evening dress that set off his lithe, soldierly form to such
advantage. His garb was of an elegance such as Clarissa had never
before beheld, and it was plain that the aristocracy affected certain
adornments in the privacy of their homes which they did not caparison
themselves with in public. Clarissa had seen dress suits in
restaurants and in theaters, but never before had she seen a
bottle-green dress coat with gold buttons and a velvet collar and a
vest with broad longitudinal stripes of white and brown. In a brief
space, Asbury Fuller returned, and glancing at his watch, he said:
"There is some time before the dinner party begins and I would like to
talk with you. I am impressed by your apparent honesty and
particularly by the air of devotion to duty that characterizes you.
The latter I have more often remarked in women than in the more
selfish sex to which we belong. We need a boy here. Wages, twenty
dollars a month and keep."
"Oh, sir, I should be pleased to come."
"Your duties will commence at once. Owing to the fact that this old
house has been empty for some time and the work of rehabilitating and
refurnishing it is far from completed, you cannot at present have a
room to yourself. You will sleep with John Klussmann, the hostler----"
"Oh, sir, I cannot do that," exclaimed Clarissa, starting up in alarm.
"John is a good boy and kicks very little in his sleep. But doubtless
you object to the smell of horses."
"Oh, sir, let me do what is needed this evening and go home and I will
come back and work to-morrow and go home to-morrow night, and if by
that time you find I can have a room by myself, perhaps I will come
permanently."
"I don't smell of horses myself," said Asbury Fuller, musingly, to
which Clarissa making no response other than turning away her head to
hide her blushes, he continued. "But two days will be enough. Indeed,
to-night is the crucial point. I will not beat about the bush longer.
I wish to attach you to my interests. I wish you to serve me to-night
in the crisis of my career."
"Oh, sir," said Clarissa, in the protection that her assumed character
gave her, allowing herself the privilege of speaking her real
sentiments, "I am attached to your interests. Let me serve you.
Command, and I will use my utmost endeavor to obey."
Asbury Fuller looked at her in surprise. Carried away by her feelings
and in the state of mental exaltation which the romance and mystery of
the adventure had induced, she had made a half movement to kneel as
she thus almost swore her fealty in solemn tones.
"Why are you attached to my interests?" asked Asbury Fuller, somewhat
dryly.
Alas, Clarissa could not take advantage of the protection her assumed
character gave her to tell the real reason. Only as a woman could she
do that, only as a woman could she say and be believed, "Because I
love you."
"Why, some people are naturally leaders, naturally draw others to
them----"
"You cannot be a spy upon me, since no one knows who I am."
"A spy!" cried Clarissa, in a voice whose sorrowful reproach gave
convincing evidence of her ingenuousness.
"I wrong you, I wrong you," said Asbury Fuller. "I will trust you. I
will tell you what you are to do----"
"Butler," said a maid, poking her head in at the door, "it is time to
come and give the finishing touches to the table. It is almost time
for the dinner to be served," and without ado, Asbury Fuller sprang
out of the room.
A butler! A butler! Clarissa sat stunned. It was thus that her hero
had turned out. Could she tell the other girls in the store with any
degree of pride that she was keeping company with a butler? She had
received a good literary education in the high school at Muncie,
Indiana, and was a young woman of taste and refinement. Could she
marry a butler? To be near her hero, she herself had just now been
willing to undertake a menial position. But she had then imagined him
to be a person of importance. This stage in her cogitations led her to
the reflection that her feelings were unworthy of her. Had her regard
for Asbury Fuller been all due to the belief that he was a person of
importance, merely the worship of position, the selfish desire and
hope--however faint--of rising to affluence and social dignity through
him? Butler or no butler, Asbury Fuller was handsome, he was
distinguished, his manner of speech was superior to that of any person
she had ever known. Butler or no butler, she loved him. Just now she
had hoped that he, rich and well placed, would overlook her poverty,
and take her, friendless and obscure, for his bride. Could she give
less than she had hoped he would give? And then as butler, her chances
of winning him were so greatly increased.
In a short time, he returned. He told her she was to wait on the table
and instructed her how to serve the courses.
"The master will look surprised when he sees you instead of me. If he
asks who you are, say the new page. But he will be too much afraid of
exciting the wonder of his guests to ask you any questions. I feel
certain that he will accept your presence without question, being
desirous his guests shall not think him a tyro in the management of an
establishment like this. I feel certain that after dinner, his guests
will ask to see his collection of arms. Indeed, Miss Bording told him
in my hearing last Monday that she accepted his invitation here on
condition that she be allowed to see the famous collection. You are to
follow them into the drawing-room after dinner. The master will not
know whether that is usual or not. If they do start to go to look at
the arms, you are to say, 'The collection of your former weapons, sir,
has been placed in the first room to the left at the head of the
stairs. The paper-hangers and decorators have been busy.' Then you are
to lead the way into that room, which you will find dimly lighted.
After that, I will attend to everything myself."
Although Clarissa could not but wonder at the strangeness of her
instructions and to be somewhat alarmed at the evidences of a plot in
which she was to be an agent, she agreed, for though her regard for
Asbury Fuller would have been sufficient to cause such acquiescence,
so great was her curiosity to have solved the mysteries which
surrounded that individual, that this alone would have gained her
consent.
There were but two guests at the table of Mr. William Leadbury--Judge
Volney Bording, and his daughter, Eulalia Bording. Mr. Leadbury cast a
look of surprise and displeasure as he saw Clarissa serving the first
course, but he quickly concealed these emotions and proceeded to
plunge into an animated conversation with his guests. Indeed, it
assumed the character of a monologue in which he frequently adverted
to the weather, to be off on a tangent the next moment on a discussion
of finance, politics, sociology, on which subjects, however, he was
far from showing the positiveness and fixed opinion that he did while
descanting upon the weather. In all the subjects he touched upon, he
exhibited a certain skill in so framing his remarks that they would
not run counter to any prejudices or opposite opinions of his
auditors, but the feelings of the auditors having been elicited,
served as a preamble from which he could go on, warmly agreeing with
their views in the further and more complete unfolding of his own. He
was between twenty-seven and thirty years of age, of a somewhat spare
figure, and in the well-proportioned features of his face there was no
one that would attract attention beyond the others and easily remain
fixed in memory. He was not without an appearance of intelligence and
his chest was thrown out and the small of his back drawn in after the
manner of the Prussian ex-sergeants who give instruction in athletics
and the cultivation of a proper carriage to the elite of this city,
and withal he had the appearance of a person of substance and of
consequence in his community. In the midst of a pause where he was
occupied in putting his soup-spoon into his mouth, Miss Bording
remarked:
"Please do not talk about commonplace American subjects, Mr. Leadbury.
Tell us of your foreign life. Tell us of Algeria. What sort of a
country is Algeria?"
Turning his eyes toward the chandelier about him and with an elegance
of enunciation that did much to relieve the undeniably monotonous
evenness of his discourse, he began:
"Algeria, the largest and most important of the French colonial
possessions, is a country of northern Africa, bounded on the north by
the Mediterranean, west by Morocco, south by the desert of Sahara, and
east by Tunis. It extends for about five hundred and fifty miles along
the coast and inland from three hundred to four hundred miles.
Physiographically it may be roughly divided into three zones," and so
on for a considerable length until by an accident which Clarissa could
attribute to nothing but inconceivable awkwardness, Judge Bording
dropped a glass of water, crash! Having ceased his disquisition at
this accident, so disconcerting to the judge, Miss Bording very
prettily and promptly thanked him for his information and saying that
she now had a clear understanding of the principal facts pertaining to
Algeria, abruptly changed the subject by asking him if he had heard
anything more concerning his second cousin, the barber.
"There is nothing more to be heard. He is dead. You know he came here
about a week before I did. By the terms of my uncle's will, the five
years to be allowed to elapse before I was to be considered dead or
disappeared would have come to an end in a week after the time of my
arrival, and the property have passed to him, my uncle's cousin. By
the greatest luck in the world, I had become homesick and throwing up
my commission in the Foreign Legion, or Battalion D'Etranger, as we
have it in French, which is, as you may know, a corps of foreigners
serving under the French flag, mainly in Algeria, but occasionally in
other French possessions--throwing up my commission, I came home,
bringing with me my famous collection of weapons and the fauteuil of
Ab del Kader, the armchair, you understand, of the great Arab prince
who led the last revolt against France. It was not all homesickness,
either. Among the men of all nationalities serving in the Foreign
Legion, are many adventurous Americans, and a young Chicagoan,
remarking my name, apprised me of the fact that perhaps I was heir to
a fortune in Chicago. I came," continued Leadbury, looking down toward
his lap, where Clarissa saw he held a clipping from a newspaper, "and
took apartments at the Bennington Hotel, where, when seen by the
representatives of the 'Commercial Advertiser,' the following
interesting facts were brought out in the interview: 'William
Leadbury'--your humble servant--" he interjected, "'is the only son of
the late Charles Leadbury, only brother of the late millionaire iron
merchant, James Leadbury. Upon his death, James Leadbury left his
entire property'--but," said Leadbury, looking up, "I have previously
covered that point."
"But tell us of your weapons," interposed Miss Bording.
"Oh, yes, that seems to interest you," and deftly sliding the clipping
along in his fingers, he resumed: "'The collection of weapons is one
of the most interesting and remarkable collections in the United
States, for, though not large, its owner can say, with pardonable
pride, "every bit of steel in that collection has been used by me in
my trade."'"
"Ah, how proud you must be," mused Miss Bording. "I read something
like that in the papers, myself. Just to think of it! Every bit of
steel in that collection has been used by you in your trade. What a
strange affectation you military men have in calling your profession a
trade! But, Captain Leadbury, tell me of your cousin, who disappeared
two days after your arrival, and why you shaved your moustache which
the papers described you as having."
"A moustache is a bother," said Leadbury. "As to my cousin, why,
overcome by disappointment, he took to drink. He disappeared from his
lodgings on Rush Street two days after my arrival, at the close of a
twenty-four hours' debauch. It was found he had shipped as a sailor on
the Ingar Gulbrandson, lumber hooker for Marinette, and the
Gulbrandson was found sunk up by Death's Door, at the entrance to
Green Bay, her masts sticking above water. Her crew had utterly
disappeared. That was three months ago and neither hide nor hair of
any of them has been seen since. Poor Anderson Walkley is dead! Were
he alive, I would be glad to assist him. But he was a rover, never
long in one place--a few months here, a few months there--and now he
is at rest and I believe he is glad, I believe he is glad."
The second course consisted of turkey, and Clarissa was astounded, as
she deposited the dishes of the course, to see Asbury Fuller swiftly
enter the door upon all-fours and with extreme celerity and cat-like
lightness, flit across the room and esconce himself behind a huge
armchair upholstered in velvet, and her astonishment increased and was
tinged with no small degree of terror, as she observed the chair,
noiselessly and almost imperceptibly, progress across the floor,
propelled by some hidden force, until it reached a station behind the
master of the house. Captain Leadbury began to carve the turkey and
Clarissa was astonished more than ever to hear, in the Captain's
voice, though she was sure his lips were shut,
"Would you like a close shave, Miss Bording?"
The sound of the carving-knife dropping upon the platter as Leadbury
started in some sudden spasm of pain, was drowned by the silvery
laughter of Miss Bording, saying,
"Oh, don't make fun of the profession of your poor cousin, Captain,"
and the look of disquiet upon Leadbury's face was quickly relieved and
he joined heartily and almost boisterously in the merriment. A moment
later, Clarissa was alarmed to find him bending upon herself a look in
which suspicion, distrust, fear, and hatred all were blended.
Judge Volney Bording, ornament to the legal profession, was a hearty
eater, and it was not long before he sent his plate for a second
helping, and again Clarissa heard from the closed lips of Leadbury, in
a voice that seemed to float up from his very feet:
"Next. Next. You're next, Miss Bording. What'll it be?"
Leadbury half rose, looking toward Clarissa with a glance of most
violent anger, but whatever he would have said, was again interrupted
by the silvery laugh of Miss Bording, and again Leadbury joined
heartily, almost boisterously. But though he regained his
self-possession and his brow became serene, Clarissa saw in his eye
that which told he had a reckoning in store for her when once the
guests were out of the house, but that in the meantime he would
dissemble the various unpleasant emotions with which his mind was
filled. The rest of the dinner passed without untoward event. The huge
armchair by imperceptible degrees retired to its former position, and
as Clarissa set down the dessert, she saw Asbury Fuller, with a grace
unusual and not to be expected of one in such a posture, proceeding
quickly and silently out of the room upon all-fours.
Mindful of her instructions, Clarissa accompanied the party when,
rising from the table, they withdrew to the drawing-room. It was
manifest that her presence caused Leadbury some uneasiness and he
looked now at her and now at his guests with an inquiring and
perturbed countenance, but in the calm faces of the judge and his
daughter he could detect nothing to indicate that they thought the
presence of the page at all strange, and little by little he recovered
his good spirits and related some interesting anecdotes of a bulldog
he once owned and of a colored person who stole a guitar from him. But
though Miss Bording gave a courteous and interested attention and
laughed at the anecdotes of the dog, she irked at the necessity of
silence, which the garrulity of her host placed her under and was
desirous of having the conversation become general and of a more
entertaining, elevated and instructive character. As the narration of
the episode of the colored person came to an end, she hastily
exclaimed:
"Captain, you promised to show us your collection. It is nearing the
time when we must go home, for father has had to-day to listen to an
unparalleled amount of gabble and is very tired."
"I will show the collection to you with great pleasure," said
Leadbury, and at this juncture, Clarissa, remembering her
instructions, said:
"The collection of your former weapons, sir, has been placed in the
first room at the left at the head of the stairs. The paperhangers and
decorators have been busy." And then she proceeded to lead the way
into the hall and up the broad funereal staircase that led above.
Dimly burned the lights in the hall. Dimly burned a gas jet in the
room whose door stood open at the left.
"Oh, yes," said Leadbury, gaily, responding to a remark of Miss
Bording, as they entered the room and saw the uncertain shape of a
large chair vaguely looming in the gloom; "I secured the fauteuil of
Ab del Kader after we had stormed the last stronghold of that
unfortunate prince. But interesting as this relic is, I put no value
upon it in comparison with the weapons, for every bit of steel in the
collection has been used by me in my trade."
As he said these words, he turned on the gas at full head and the
light blazed forth to be shot back from an array of polished steel
festooned upon the wall, a glittering rosette, but not of sabres and
scimetars, yataghans, rapiers, broadswords, dirks and poniards,
pistols, fusils and rifles. No! _Razors and scissors!_ Before this
array sat a great red velvet barber's chair, and near them on the wall
was a board, bearing little brass hooks, upon each of which hung a
green ticket.
In the unexpected revelation that had followed the flare of light, all
eyes were turned upon William Leadbury, swaying back and forward with
one hand clinging to the big chair, as if ready to swoon. A sickly,
cringing grin played over his face, suddenly come all a-yellow, and
his long tongue was flickering over his pale lips. But all at once his
muscles sprang tense and a malignant anger tightened his quivering
features and turning upon Clarissa, he hissed:
"You did this. You exposed me, you exposed me," and he was about to
leap at the terrified girl, when a ringing voice cried, "Stop!" and
there was Asbury Fuller standing in the doorway with the broad red
cordon of a Commander of the Legion of Honor across his breast and a
glittering rapier in his hand. Clarissa could have fallen at his feet,
he looked so handsome and grand, and she could have scratched out the
eyes of Eulalia Bording, whose gaze betrayed an admiration equal to
her own. Asbury Fuller, yet not wearing quite his wonted appearance,
for the luxuriant locks of auburn had gone and his head was covered
with a short, though thick crop of chestnut.
"You exposed yourself. Harmless would all this have been, powerless to
hurt you, if you had kept your self-possession and turned it off as a
joke--your own. But your abashed mien, your complete confusion, your
utter disconcertment, betrayed you, even if you had no longer left any
question by crying out that you have been exposed. Yes, exposed,
Anderson Walkley, by the sudden confronting of you with the implements
of your craft, the weapons you had _used_ in _your_ trade, and the
belief thus aroused in your guilty mind that your secret was known,
that your identity had been detected."
"Asbury Fuller, what business is it of yours?" and Leadbury snatched
up a large pair of hair clippers and waved them with a menacing
gesture.
"Everyman to the weapons of his trade," exclaimed Asbury Fuller, and
the hair clippers seemed suddenly enveloped in a mass of white flame,
as the rapier played about them. Cling, clang, across the room flew
the clippers, twisted from Leadbury's hand as neatly as you please.
"Asbury Fuller?" cried the Commander of the Legion of Honor. "Asbury
Fuller?" and he deftly fastened beneath his nose an elegant false
moustache with waxed ends.
With his hands before his eyes as if to forefend his view from some
dreadful apparition, the man in the corner sank upon his knees,
gibbering, "William Leadbury, come back from the dead!"
"William Leadbury, alive and well, here to claim his own from you,
Anderson Walkley, outlaw and felon. Your plans were well-laid, but I
am not dead. You signed the papers of the Ingar Gulbrandson in your
proper person. Then as she was about to sail, I was brought aboard
ostensibly drunk, but really drugged, under the name of Anderson
Walkley. The Gulbrandson was found sunk. Her crew of four had utterly
disappeared. Dead, of course. The records gave their names. I had
become Anderson Walkley and was dead. You had seized my property and
my identity. I had been in Chicago but two days and no one had become
familiar enough with my appearance to make any question when you with
your clean-shaven face came down on the morning after my
kidnaping and told the people at the hotel that you were William
Leadbury and had shaved your moustache off over night. Whatever
difference they might have thought they saw, was easily explained by
the change occasioned by the removal of your moustache. Had your
minions been as intelligent as they were villainous, your scheme would
have succeeded. It was necessary to drug me anew on the voyage, as the
effects were wearing off. They did not drug me enough, and when they
scuttled the old hulk and rowed ashore to flee with their blood money,
the cold water rising in the sinking vessel awoke me, brought me to
full consciousness, and I easily got ashore on some planking. I saw at
once what the plot had been. I realized I had a desperate man to deal
with. I had no money and it would take me some time to get from
northern Wisconsin to Chicago. In the meantime, every one would have
come to believe you William Leadbury, and who would believe me, the
ragged tramp, suddenly appearing from nowhere and claiming to be the
heir? You would be coached by your lawyers, have time to concoct lies,
to manufacture conditions that would color your claim, and in court
you would be self-possessed and on your guard. Therefore I felt that I
must await the psychological moment when you could be taken off your
guard, when, surprised and in confusion, you would betray yourself. I
secured employment as your butler, the psychological moment came, and
you stand, self-convicted, thief and would-be murderer."
"Send for the police at once," said Judge Bording.
"No," said the late captain in the Foreign Legion. "He may reform. I
wish him to have another chance. That he may have the wherewithal to
earn a livelihood, I present him with the contents of this room, the
means of his undoing. In my uncle's library are many excellent
theological works of a controversial nature, and these, too, I present
to him, as a means of turning his thoughts toward better things. I
will not send for the police. I will send for a dray. Judge Bording,
by the recent concatenation of events, I am become the host. Let us
leave Walkley here to pack his effects, and return to the
drawing-room."