The millionaire did things handsomely. He offered to motor his party
to Venice, and as Margaret declined, because motoring was bad for her
voice, he telegraphed for a comfortable special carriage, and took his
friends down by railway, managing everything alone, in some
unaccountable way, since the invaluable Stemp was already gone in
search of something for Mrs. Rushmore to eat; and they were all very
luxuriously comfortable.
Kralinsky was not on board the yacht when they came alongside at
sunset in two gondolas, following the steam-launch, which carried a
load of luggage and the two maids. The Primadonna's trunks and
hat-boxes towered above Mrs. Rushmore's, and Mrs. Rushmore's above
Lady Maud's modest belongings, as the Alps lift their heads above the
lower mountains, and the mountains look down upon the Italian
foot-hills; and Potts sat in one corner of the stern-sheets with
Margaret's jewel-case on her knee, and Justine, with Mrs. Rushmore's,
glared at her viciously from the other corner. For the fierce Justine
knew that she was going to be sea-sick on the yacht, and the meek
Potts never was, though she had crossed the ocean with the Diva in
rough weather.
Stemp led the way, and Mr. Van Torp took the three ladies to their
cabins: first, Mrs. Rushmore, who was surprised and delighted by the
rich and gay appearance of hers, for it was entirely decorated in pink
and gold, that combination being Stemp's favourite one. The brass
bedstead had pink silk curtains held back by broad gold ribbands;
there was a pink silk coverlet with a gold fringe; everything that
could be gold was gilt, and everything that could be pink was rosy,
including the carpet.
Mr. Van Torp looked at Stemp with approval, and Stemp acknowledged
unspoken praise with silent modesty.
'Beg pardon, madam,' he said, addressing Mrs. Rushmore, 'this is not
exactly the largest cabin on the yacht, but it is the one in which you
will find the least motion.'
'It's very sweet,' said the American lady. 'Very dainty, I'm sure.'
On the writing-table stood a tall gilt vase full of immense pink
roses, with stems nearer four feet long than three. Mrs. Rushmore
admired them very much.
'How did you know that I love roses above all other flowers?' she
asked. 'My dear Mr. Van Torp, you are a wizard, I'm sure!'
Lady Maud and Margaret had entered, and kept up a polite little chorus
of admiration; but they both felt uneasy as to what they might find in
their respective cabins, for Margaret hated pink, and Lady Maud
detested gilding, and neither of them was especially fond of roses.
They left Mrs. Rushmore very happy in her quarters and went on. Lady
Maud's turn came next, and she began to understand, when she saw a
quantity of sweet wood violets on her table, just loosened, in an old
Murano glass beaker.
'Thank you,' she said, bending to smell them. 'How kind of you!'
There was not a trace of gilding or pink silk. The cabin was panelled
and fitted in a rare natural wood of a creamy-white tint.
'Beg pardon, my lady,' said Stemp. 'This and Miss Donne's cabin
communicate by this door, and the door aft goes to the dressing-room.
Each cabin has one quite independent, and this bell rings the pantry,
my lady, and this one rings Miss Donne's maid's cabin, as I understand
that your ladyship has not brought her own maid with her.'
'Very nice,' said Lady Maud, smelling the violets again.
Mr. Van Torp looked at Stemp as he would have looked at a horse that
had turned out even better than he had expected. Stemp threw open the
door of communication to the cabin he had prepared for the Primadonna.
The two cabins occupied the whole beam of the vessel, excepting the
six-foot gangway on each side, and as she was one of the largest
yachts afloat at the time, there was no lack of room.
'Carnations, at this time of year!' cried Margaret, seeing half an
armful of her favourite dark red ones, in a silver wine-cooler before
the mirror. 'You really seem to know everything! Thank you so much!'
She buried her handsome face in the splendid flowers and drew in a
deep, warm breath, full of their sensuous perfume, the spicy scent of
a laden clove-tree under a tropical sun.
'Thank you again!' she said enthusiastically. 'Thank you for
everything, the delightful journey, and this lovely room, and the
carnations!'
She stood up suddenly to her height, in sheer pleasure, and held out
her hand to him. He pressed it quietly, and smiled.
'Do as you would be done by,' he said. 'That's the Company's rule.'
She laughed at the allusion to their agreement, of which Lady Maud
knew nothing, for they had determined to keep it secret for the
present.
Mr. Van Torp had not found an opportunity of speaking to Lady Maud
alone, but he wished her to know when Kralinsky might be expected.
'Stemp,' he said, before leaving the cabin, 'have you heard from the
Count?'
'Yes, sir. He got here this morning from Vienna in his motor, sir, and
sent his things with his man, and his compliments to you and the
ladies, and he will come on board in time for dinner. That was all, I
think, sir.'
[Illustration: "She buried her handsome face in the splendid
flowers."]
Lady Maud heard, and made a scarcely perceptible movement of the head
by way of thanks to her friend, while listening to Margaret's
enthusiastic praise of everything she saw. Mr. Van Torp and his man
departed, just as Potts appeared, accompanied by a very neat-looking
English stewardess in a smart white cap. Lady Maud was unusually
silent, but she smiled pleasantly at what Margaret said, and the
latter made up her mind to drown her anger against Logotheti, and at
the same time to be avenged on him, in an orgy of luxurious comfort,
sea-air, and sunshine. The capacity of a perfectly healthy and
successful singer for enjoying everything, from a halfpenny bun and a
drive in a hansom to a millionaire's yacht and the most expensive fat
of the land, or sea, has never been measured. And if they do have
terrible fits of temper now and then, who shall blame them? They are
always sorry for it, because it is bad for the voice.
Mr. Van Torp reached his quarters, and prepared to scrub and dress
comfortably after a week at Bayreuth and a railway journey.
'Stemp.'
'Yes, sir.'
'That was quite nicely done. You must have had a lively time.'
'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Hope everything is tolerably satisfactory
to you, sir.'
'Yes. Find anything good to eat? Chickens don't take gilding well, you
know--doesn't taste together. But I suppose you found something. Seen
the cook?'
'Yes, sir. I think things will be tolerable, sir, though this is not
London, I must say.'
Mr. Van Torp showed no surprise at the statement, and disappeared into
his bath-room, well pleased with himself and his man. But a moment
later he opened the door again and thrust out his square sandy head.
'Stemp, where have you put the Count? Far from here? I don't want him
near me.'
'Last cabin forward on the port side, sir, next to the smoking-room.
Very good cabin, sir.'
'Whereabouts is port, right or left?'
'Left-hand side of the vessel, sir,' answered Stemp, who had been on
many yachts. 'There are ten more cabins empty, sir, between large and
small, if you should think of asking any ladies and gentlemen to join
at another point, sir.'
'May pick up a couple somewhere. Can't tell yet.' And Mr. Van Torp
disappeared definitely.
Lady Maud did not begin to dress at once, as there was plenty of time
before dinner; she left the stewardess to unpack her things, and came
out upon the six-foot gangway outside her cabin door to breathe the
air, for it was warm. The city lay half a mile away in the after-glow
of the sunset. The water was very green that evening, as it sometimes
is in the Lagoons, though not always, and it was shaded off through
many opalescent tints to heliotrope; then it was suddenly black below
the steps of the Piazzetta and the Ducal Palace. Within the mysterious
canal to the right she could make out the Bridge of Sighs, and there
was the Ponte della Paglia, and the long line of irregular buildings
to the eastward of the Prisons, as far as the Public Gardens. To the
left there was the wide mouth of the Grand Canal, the Salute and the
Custom-House, and the broad opening of the Giudecca. It was familiar
to her, for she had seen it several times. She missed the Campanile,
which she had been made to climb by an energetic governess when she
was twelve years old, but all the rest was there and unchanged, a
dream of evening colour, an Eastern city rising out of an enchanted
water, under an Italian sky.
At any other time she would have enjoyed the sight almost without a
thought, as she enjoyed everything that seemed to her beautiful or
even pretty, though she had no pretensions to cultivated artistic
taste or knowledge. But now she felt none of that healthy pleasure
which a lovely sight naturally gave her. She was at a crisis of her
life, and the exquisite evening scene was the battlefield of a coming
struggle, with herself, or with another, she hardly knew. In half an
hour, or in an hour, at most, she was to sit at table with a man she
fully believed to be the husband for whom she had been wearing
mourning, out of mere decency, but with the profound inward
satisfaction of being free.
She was brave, and could try to think of what was before her if it
turned out that she was not mistaken, and she could attempt to
understand what had happened. She had already come to the conclusion
that if Kralinsky was really Leven, the latter had seized the
opportunity offered him by his own supposed death to disappear from
St. Petersburg, and had taken another name. Leven had been a ruined
man when he had tried to divorce her; when he died, or disappeared, he
left nothing but debts, which were extinguished with him, for no one
attempted to make his widow responsible for them, since there was no
estate and she had no fortune beyond the allowance her father made
her. Lord Creedmore was far from being a rich peer, too, and what he
gave her was not much, although it would more than suffice for her
simple wants, now that she intended to live with him again.
But if Leven had not been killed and had turned into Kralinsky, he now
had plenty of ready money, though it was not easy to guess how he had
obtained possession of a quantity of valuable Asiatic rubies within
the few weeks that had elapsed between his supposed destruction by the
bomb and the date of Van Torp's transaction with him in New York. That
was a mystery. So was his possible acquaintance, or connexion, with
the Eastern girl who was looking for him, if there was a shadow of
truth in Logotheti's story. Lady Maud did not believe there was, and
she felt morally sure that the tale had evolved itself out of the
Greek's fertile brain, as a fantastic explanation of his atrocious
conduct.
While she was thinking over these matters and rehearsing in her
thoughts the scene that was before her, she saw a gondola making
straight for the yacht across the fast fading green of the lagoon that
lay between the vessel and the Piazzetta. It came nearer, and she drew
back from the rail against her cabin door, under the shadow of the
promenade deck, which extended over the gangway and was supported by
stanchions, as on an ocean liner. The _Lancashire Lass_, with her
single huge yellow funnel, her one short signal mast, her
turret-shaped wheel-house, and her generally business-like appearance,
looked more like a cross between a fast modern cruiser and an ocean
'greyhound' than like a private yacht. She even had a couple of
quick-firing guns mounted just above her rail.
Lady Maud looked at the gondola, and as it came still nearer, she saw
that it brought only one passenger, and that he had a fair beard. She
quietly opened her cabin door, and went in to dress for dinner.
Meanwhile Mr. Van Torp had completed his toilet, and was rather
surprised to find himself magnificently arrayed in a dark-blue
dinner-jacket, with perfectly new gilt buttons, and an unfamiliar
feeling about the pockets. He had belonged to a yacht club for years,
because it seemed to be expected of him, and Stemp and the tailor had
thought fit that he should possess the proper things for a yachtsman.
'Stemp,' he said, 'is this the correct thing? I suppose you know.'
'Yes, sir. Very smart indeed, sir. White caps are usually worn by
yachting gentlemen in the Mediterranean, sir.' Stemp offered him the
cap in question, resplendent with a new enamelled badge. 'Beg pardon,
sir, but as to caps, most gentlemen lift them to ladies, just like
hats, sir, but the captain and the officers touch theirs. His Grace
always lifted his cap, sir.'
'I guess that'll be all right,' answered Mr. Van Torp, trying on the
cap. 'Send the captain to my study, Stemp, and find out about when the
ladies will be ready for dinner.'
Stemp disappeared, and in a few moments pink-faced Captain Brown
appeared, quiet, round, and smart.
'I suppose you're ready at any moment, Captain?' inquired the
millionaire.
'Yes, sir. The pilot is on board, and the gentleman you expected is
just coming alongside.'
'Oh, he is, is he?'
Mr. Van Torp evidently expected no answer to his favourite form of
question when he was thinking over what had just been said; and the
captain was silent.
'Then you can start now,' said the owner, after a moment's thought.
'Where are we bound, sir?'
'Oh, well, I don't know. I wanted to say a few words about that,
Captain. Do you happen to know anything about a yacht called the
_Erinna_, belonging to a Mr. Logotheti, a Greek gentleman who lives in
Paris?'
'Yes, sir,' answered Captain Brown, for it was a part of his business
to read the yachting news. 'She was at Cowes when we sailed. She was
reported the other day from Gibraltar as having entered the
Mediterranean after taking fresh provisions, owner and party on board.
There is no further word of her.'
'Well,' said Mr. Van Torp, 'I have an idea she's gone to Naples, but I
want you to find her right away wherever she is, owner and party on
board. That's all, Captain. If you happen to see her anywhere, you
just come and tell me if I'm alone, and if I'm not, why send one of
your young men to say you want to know something,--anything you happen
to think of, and I'll come to your room and tell you what to do. See?
That's all, and now let's start, please.'
'All right, sir.'
So Captain Brown went off with his instructions, and in a few moments
his owner heard the distant sound of the chain coming in over the most
noiseless of modern patent steam capstans; and the side-lights and
masthead and stern lights shone out as the anchor light went down, and
the twin screws began to turn over slowly, well below the water; and
the _Lancashire Lass_ was under weigh, with the captain, the pilot,
and the two junior officers all in a row on the bridge, while the
chief mate was seeing the anchor got inboard and stowed. But while the
captain was silently looking ahead into the warm dusk and listening to
the orders the pilot gave for the wheel in good English, but with a
marvellous Venetian accent, he was also considering how he might most
quickly find the _Erinna_, and he reflected that it would be an easier
task if he knew a little more definitely where she was. He was not at
all disturbed by the orders he had received, however, and was only
anxious to get all the speed he could out of his vessel as far as the
Straits of Messina, through which the yacht he was to find would
almost certainly pass, in preference to the Malta Channel, if she were
going to Greece and the East. If she kept to the waters west of Italy,
it would not be so very hard to hear of her, as the coast is dotted
with excellent marine signal stations, and official information as to
the movements of yachts is easily obtained.
When the party assembled in the deck saloon for dinner, Lady Maud was
missing. Stemp, who did not intend that his master should dine
without his personal attention, no matter how much the chief steward
might object to his presence, approached Mr. Van Torp and whispered
something. Lady Maud begged that the party would sit down without her,
and she would join them in a moment.
So they took their places, and the vacant one was on the owner's
right, between him and the Primadonna.
'You see,' said Mr. Van Torp, explaining to Mrs. Rushmore, which was
wholly unnecessary, 'we are Americans, and this ship is America, so
the English guest goes first.'
But Mrs. Rushmore knew these things, for she was used to handling
lions in numbers; and the little lions and the middle-sized ones are
very particular about their places at table, but the great big ones do
not care 'one dingle Sam,' as Mr. Van Torp would have elegantly
expressed their indifference. For he was a great big lion himself.
'Did you ever meet Lady Maud?' he inquired, speaking to Kralinsky.
'Which Lady Maud?' asked the foreigner in his rather oily voice.
'There are several.'
'Countess Leven, who was Lady Maud Foxwell,' explained Mrs. Rushmore.
Kralinsky turned quietly to her, his single eyeglass fixed and
glittering.
'No,' he answered. 'I knew poor Leven well, but I was never introduced
to his wife. I have heard that she is very beautiful.'
'You say you knew the late Count Leven?' observed Mrs. Rushmore, with
an encouraging and interrogatory smile.
'Intimately,' answered Kralinsky with perfect self-possession. 'We
were in the same regiment in the Caucasus. I daresay you remember that
he began life as a cavalry officer and then entered the diplomacy.
Gifted man, very,' the Russian added in a thoughtful tone, 'but no
balance! It seems to me that I have heard he did not treat his wife
very well.'
[Illustration: "Their eyes met."]
Mr. Van Torp had met several very cool characters in his interesting
and profitable career, but he thought that if the man before him was
Leven himself, as he seemed to be, he beat them all for calm
effrontery.
'Were you ever told that you looked like him?' asked Mr. Van Torp
carelessly.
Even at this question Kralinsky showed no embarrassment.
'To tell the truth,' he replied, 'I remember that one or two in the
regiment saw a slight resemblance, and we were of nearly the same
height, I should say. But when I last saw Leven he did not wear a
beard.'
At this point Lady Maud came in quietly and made directly for the
vacant place. The two men rose as soon as she appeared, and she found
herself face to face with Kralinsky, with the table between them.
Their eyes met, but Lady Maud could not detect the slightest look of
recognition in his. Van Torp introduced him, and also watched his face
narrowly, but there was not the least change of expression, nor any
quick glance of surprise.
Yet Kralinsky possibly did not know that Lady Maud was on the yacht,
for he had not been told previously that she was to be of the party,
and in the short conversation which had preceded her appearance, no
one had actually mentioned the fact. She herself had come to dinner
late with the express purpose of presenting herself before him
suddenly, but she had to admit that the intended surprise did not take
place.
She was not astonished, however, for she had more than once seen her
husband placed in very difficult situations, from which he had
generally extricated himself by his amazing power of concealing the
truth. Being seated nearly opposite to him, it was not easy to study
his features without seeming either to stare at him rudely or to be
bestowing more attention on him than on any of the others. Her eyes
were very good, and her memory for details was fair, and if she did
not look often at his face, she watched his hands and listened to the
intonations of his voice, and her conviction that he was Leven grew
during dinner. Yet there was still a shadow of doubt, though she could
not have told exactly where it lay.
She longed to lead him into a trap by asking some question to which,
if he were Leven, he would know the answer, though not if he were any
one else, a question to which he would not hesitate to reply
unsuspectingly if the answer were known to him. But Lady Maud was not
ingenious in such conversational tricks, and could not think of
anything that would do.
The outward difference of appearance between him and the man she had
married was so small that she could assuredly not have sworn in
evidence that Kralinsky was not her husband. There was the beard, and
she had not seen Leven with a beard since the first months of her
marriage four years ago, when he had cut it off for some reason known
only to himself. Of course a recollection, already four years old,
could not be trusted like one that dated only as far back as three
months; for he had left her not long before his supposed death.
There were the hands, and there was the left hand especially. That
might be the seat of the doubt. Possibly she had never noticed that
Leven had a way of keeping his left little finger almost constantly
crooked and turned inward as if it were lame. But she was not sure
even of that, for she was not one of those people who study the hands
of every one they know, and can recognise them at a glance. She had
certainly never watched her husband's as closely as she was watching
Kralinsky's now.
Margaret was in the best of spirits, and talked more than usual, not
stopping to think how Van Torp's mere presence would have chilled and
silenced her three or four months earlier. If Lady Maud had time to
spare from her own affairs, it probably occurred to her that the
Primadonna's head was slightly turned by the devotion of a financier
considerably bigger and more serious than Logotheti; but if she had
known of the 'business agreement' between the two, she would have
smiled at Van Torp's wisdom in offering a woman who seemed to have
everything just the one thing in the world which she desired and had
not. Yet for all that, he might be far from his goal. It was possible
that Margaret might look upon him as Lady Maud herself did, and wish
to make him her best friend. Lady Maud would not be jealous if she
succeeded.
On the whole it was a gay dinner, and Mrs. Rushmore and Kralinsky knew
that it was a very good one, and told each other so afterwards as they
walked slowly up and down the great promenade deck in the starlight.
For people who are very fond of good eating can chatter pleasantly
about their food for hours, recalling the recent delights of a perfect
chaud-froid or a faultless sauce; and it was soon evident that there
was nothing connected with such subjects which Kralinsky did not
understand and appreciate, from a Chinese bird's-nest soup to the
rules of the great Marie-Antoine Carême and Brillat-Savarin's
Physiology of Taste. Kralinsky also knew everybody. Between gastronomy
and society, he appeared to Mrs. Rushmore to know everything there was
to be known.
Lady Maud caught snatches of the conversation as the two came near
her, and then turned back; and she remembered that Leven used to talk
on the same subjects with elderly women on whom he wished to make a
pleasant impression. The voice was his to the very least intonation,
and the walk was his, too, and yet she knew she had a doubt somewhere,
a very small doubt, which it was a sort of slow torture to feel was
still unsatisfied.
Mr. Van Torp sat between her and Lady Margaret, while the two others
walked. The deep-cushioned straw chairs stood round a low fixed table
on which there had been coffee, and at Margaret's request the light
had been put out, though it was only a small opalescent one, placed
under the awning abaft the wheel-house and bridge.
'We must be going very fast,' said Lady Maud, 'for the sea is flat as
a millpond, and yet there's a gale as soon as one gets out of the lee
of things.'
'She's doing twenty-two, I believe,' replied Van Torp, 'and she can do
twenty-three if pressed. She will, by and by, when she gets warmed
up.'
'Where are we going?' Margaret asked. 'At this rate we are sure to get
somewhere!'
'I don't know where we're going, I'm sure.' The millionaire smiled in
the gloom. 'But as you say, it doesn't take more than five minutes to
get somewhere in a ship like this.'
'You must have told the captain what you wanted him to do! You must
have given some orders!'
'Why, certainly. I told him to look around and see if he could find
another yacht anything like this, anywhere in the Mediterranean. So
he's just looking around, like that, I suppose. And if he finds
another yacht anything like this, we'll see which of us can go
fastest. You see I don't know anything about ships, or where to go, so
I just thought of that way of passing the time, and when you're tired
of rushing about and want to go anywhere in particular, why, I'll take
you there. If the weather cuts up we'll go in somewhere and wait, and
see things on shore. Will that do?'
Margaret laughed at the vagueness of such a roving commission, but
Lady Maud looked towards her friend in the starlight and tried to see
his expression, for she was sure that he had a settled plan in his
mind, which he would probably put into execution.
'I've figured it out,' he continued presently. 'This thing will go
over five hundred and twenty miles a day for eight days without
stopping for coal, and that makes more than four thousand miles, and I
call that a pretty nice trip, don't you? Time to cool off before going
to Paris. Of course if I chose to take you to New York you couldn't
get out and walk. You'd have to go.'
'I've no idea of offering any resistance, I assure you!' said
Margaret. 'I'm too perfectly, completely, and unutterably comfortable
on your yacht; and I don't suppose it will be any rougher than it was
last March when we crossed in the _Leofric_ together.'
'Seems a long time, doesn't it?' Van Torp's tone was thoughtful, but
expressed anything rather than regret. 'I prefer this trip, myself.'
'Oh, so do I, infinitely! You're so much nicer than you used to be, or
than I thought you were. Isn't he, Maud?'
'Far!' answered Lady Maud. 'I always told you so. Do you mind very
much if I go to bed? I'm rather sleepy after the journey.' She rose.
'Oh, I mustn't forget to tell you,' she added, speaking to Margaret,
'I always lock my door at night, so don't be surprised! If you want
to come in and talk when you come down just call, or knock, and I'll
let you in directly.'
'All right,' Margaret answered.
Lady Maud disappeared below, leaving the two together, for Mrs.
Rushmore and Kralinsky had found a pleasant sheltered place to sit,
further aft, and the Count was explaining to the good American lady
the delicious Russian mysteries of 'Borshtsh,' 'Shtshi,' 'Kasha,' and
'Smyetany,' after extolling the unapproachable flavour of fresh
sturgeon's roe, and explaining that 'caviare' is not at all the
Russian name for it and is not even a Russian word; and Mrs. Rushmore
listened with intense interest and stood up for her country, on a
basis of Blue Point oysters, planked shad, canvas-backs, and terrapin
done in the Philadelphian manner, which she maintained to be vastly
superior to the Baltimorian; and each listened to the other with real
interest.
Van Torp and Margaret had not been alone together for five minutes
since they had left Bayreuth on the previous day, but instead of
talking, after Lady Maud was gone, the Primadonna began to sing very
softly and beautifully, and not quite for herself only, for she well
knew what pleasure her voice gave her companion, and she was the more
ready to sing because he had never asked her to do so. Moreover, it
cost her nothing, in the warm evening air under the awning, and like
all great singers she loved the sound of her own voice. To be able to
do almost anything supremely well, one must do it with real delight,
and without the smallest effort which it is not a real pleasure to
make.
So Margaret leaned back comfortably in her cushioned chair, with her
head inclined a little forward, and the magic notes floated from her
lips through the soft moving night; for as the yacht ran on through
the calm sea at her great speed, it was as if she lay still and the
night itself were flying over her with muffled wings.
Margaret sang nothing grand nor very difficult; not the waltz-song
that had made her famous, nor the 'Good Friday' music which she could
never sing to the world, but sweet old melodious songs she had learned
when a girl; Schubert's 'Serenade' and 'Ave Maria,' and Tosti's
'Malia,' and then Beethoven's 'Adelaide'; and Van Torp was silent and
perfectly happy, as well he might be. Moreover, Margaret was happy
too, which was really more surprising, considering how very angry she
had been with Logotheti for a whole week, and that she was quite aware
of the manner in which he was passing his time in spite of her urgent
message. But before the magnificent possibilities which the 'business
agreement' had suddenly opened to her, the probability of her again
sending him any word, within a reasonable time, had diminished
greatly, and the prospect of flying into a rage and telling him her
mind when she saw him was not attractive. She had always felt his
influence over her more strongly when they had been together; and it
had always lost its power when he was away, till she asked herself why
she should even think of marrying him. She would not be the first
woman who had thought better of an engagement and had broken it for
the greater good of herself and her betrothed. In all probability she
had never been really and truly in love, though she had been very
sincerely fond of Edmund Lushington the English writer, who had
discovered rather late that the magnificent and successful Margarita
da Cordova was not at all the same person as the 'nice English girl,'
Margaret Donne, whom he had worshipped before she had gone upon the
stage. So far as he was concerned, she had received his change of mind
as a slight; as for Logotheti, she would never forgive him for not
having remained faithful even during the few weeks since they had
called themselves engaged; but Van Torp's position as a suitor was
different. At all events, she said to herself, he was a man; and he
did not offer her romantic affection, but power, and a future which
should soon give her the first position in the musical world, if she
knew how to use it. She was accustomed to the idea of great wealth and
of the ordinary things it could give; mere money impressed her no more
than it does most very successful artists, unless they are miserly and
fond of it for its own sake, which is comparatively unusual. She
wasted most of what she earned, in a sort of half-secret luxury and
extravagance which made little show but cost a great deal and gave her
infinite satisfaction. Even Lady Maud did not dream of the waste that
was a pleasure to the Primadonna, and the meek Potts was as reticent
as the fierce Justine was garrulous. It was a secret joy to Potts,
besides being a large source of revenue, to live with a mistress who
flatly refused ever to wear a pair of silk stockings more than once,
much less a pair of gloves. Mrs. Rushmore would have held up her
elderly hands at such reckless doings. Margaret herself, trusting to
her private fortune for her old age in case she never married, did as
she pleased with her money, and never thought of investing it; but now
and then, in moments of depression, it had occurred to her that when
she left the stage, as she must some day, she would not be able to
live as she did now, and the thought vaguely disturbed her for a few
minutes, but that was all, and she had always within reach the easy
remedy of marrying a millionaire, to whom such a sum as five hundred
pounds a year for silk stockings would be an insignificant trifle; and
while her voice lasted she could make more than that by giving one
concert in Chicago, for instance, or by singing two nights in opera.
This is not a digression. The Diva cared nothing for money in itself,
but she could use a vast amount of it with great satisfaction and
quite without show or noise. Mr. Van Torp's income was probably twenty
or thirty times as large as the most she could possibly use, and that
was a considerable asset in his favour.
He was not a cultivated man, like Logotheti; he had never known a word
of Latin or Greek in his life, his acquaintance with history was
lacunous--to borrow a convenient Latin word--and he knew very little
about the lives of interesting people long dead. He had once read part
of a translation of the _Iliad_ and had declared it to be nonsense.
There never were such people, he had said, and if there had been,
there was no reason for writing about them, which was a practical
view of the case, if not an æsthetic one. On the other hand, he was
oddly gifted in many ways and without realising it in the least. For
instance, he possessed a remarkable musical ear and musical memory,
which surprised and pleased even the Diva, whenever they showed
themselves. He could whistle her parts almost without a fault, and
much more difficult music, too.
For everyday life he spoke like a Western farmer, and at first this
had been intensely disagreeable to the daughter of the scholarly
Oxford classic; but she had grown used to it quickly since she had
begun to like him, till his way of putting things even amused her; and
moreover, on that night by the gate of the field outside Bayreuth, she
had found out that he could speak well enough, when he chose, in
grave, strong words that few women could hear quite indifferently.
Never, in all her acquaintance with Logotheti, had she heard from the
Greek one phrase that carried such conviction of his purpose with it,
as Van Torp's few simple words had done then.
Big natures are usually most drawn to those that are even bigger than
themselves, either to love them, or to strive with them. It is the
Second-Rates who take kindly to the little people, and are happy in
the adulation of the small-fry.
So Margaret was drawn away from Logotheti, the clever spoilt child of
fortune, the loving, unproductive worshipper of his own Greek Muses,
by the Crown-Grasper, the ruthless, uncultured hard-hitter, who had
cared first for power, and had got it unhelped, but who now desired
one woman, to the exclusion of all others, for his mate.
Vaguely, the Diva remembered how, when Van Torp had asked her to walk
with him on the deck of the _Leofric_ and she had at first refused and
then consented, Paul Griggs, looking on with a smile, had quoted an
old French proverb: 'A fortress that parleys, and a woman who listens,
will soon surrender.'
When she was silent after singing 'Adelaide,' association brought back
the saying of the veteran man of letters, for Van Torp asked her if
she cared to walk a little on the quiet deck, where there was a lee;
and the sea air and even the chairs recalled the rest, with a little
wonder, but no displeasure, nor self-contempt. Was she not her own
mistress? What had any one to say, if she chose to change her mind and
take the stronger man, supposing that she took either? Had Logotheti
established any claim on her but that of constancy? Since that was
gone, here was a man who seemed to be as much more enduring than his
rival, as he was stronger in every other way. What were small
refinements of speech and culture, compared with wide-reaching power?
What availed it to possess in memory the passionate love-roses of
Sappho's heart, if you would not follow her to the Leucadian cliff? Or
to quote torrents of Pindar's deep-mouthed song, if you had not the
constancy to run one little race to the end without swerving aside?
Logotheti's own words and epithets came back to Margaret, from many a
pleasant talk in the past, and she cared for them no longer. Full of
life himself, he lived half among the dead, and his waking was only a
dream of pleasure; but this rough-hewn American was more alive than
he, and his dreams were of the living and came true.
When Margaret bid Van Torp good-night she pressed his hand, frankly,
as she had never done before, but he took no sudden advantage of what
he felt in her touch, and he returned the pressure so discreetly that
she was almost disappointed, though not quite, for there was just a
little something more than usual there.
She did not disturb Lady Maud, either, when she went to her cabin,
though if she had known that her beautiful neighbour was wide awake
and restless, she would at least have said good-night, and asked her
if she was still so very tired.
But Lady Maud slept, too, at last, though not very long, and was the
only one who appeared at breakfast to keep Van Torp company, for
Margaret slept the sleep of a singer, which is deep and long as that
of the healthy dormouse, and Mrs. Rushmore had her first tea and toast
happily in her cheerful surroundings of pink and gilding. As for
Kralinsky, his man informed Stemp and the chief steward that the Count
never thought of getting up till between nine and ten o'clock, when he
took a cup of chocolate and a slice or two of sponge cake in his own
room before dressing. So Lady Maud and Van Torp had the yacht to
themselves for some time that morning.
'I fancy from what you said last night that your plan is to catch
Logotheti and the Tartar girl at sea,' said Lady Maud, when they were
alone.
'I supposed you'd understand,' answered Van Torp. 'Do you see any harm
in that? It occurred to me that it might be quite a drastic form of
demonstration. How does it strike you? At all low-down?'
'No, frankly not!' Lady Maud was still incensed at Logotheti's
conduct. 'A man who does such things deserves anything that his rival
can do to him. I hope you may overhaul the yacht, run alongside of her
and show Margaret the two, making love to each other in Tartar on
deck! That's the least that ought to happen to him!'
'Thank you. I like to hear you talk like that. Captain Brown will do
his level best, I think. And now, tell me,' he lowered his voice a
little more, 'is that man Leven, or not?'
'I am sure he is,' Lady Maud answered, 'and yet I feel as if there
ought to be a little doubt still. I don't know how to express it, for
it's rather an odd sensation.'
'I should think it might be! Is there anything I can say or do? I'll
ask the man any question you suggest. I'm certain he's not old Levi
Longlegs, and if he's not Leven, who on earth is he? That's what I
should like to know.'
'I shall find out, never fear! I know I shall, because I must, if I am
ever to have any peace again. I'm not a very nervous person, you know,
am I? But it's more than I can bear long, to sit opposite a man at
table, again and again, as I shall have to, and not be sure whether
he's my husband, come back from the dead, or some one else!' She
paused, and her nostrils dilated a little, but Van Torp only nodded
slowly and sympathetically. 'I mean to know before I go to bed
to-night,' she said, with a little desperation in her voice. 'I shall
talk to him till I am sure of one thing or the other. At table, I
cannot tell, but if we are alone together I know I can settle the
question. If you see that we are talking at the other end of the deck,
try to keep Mrs. Rushmore and Margaret from coming near us. Will you?'
To Mrs. Rushmore's amazement and Margaret's surprise, Lady Maud made a
dead set at Kralinsky all that day, an attention which he seemed to
appreciate as it deserved. Before breakfast was over, Van Torp had
repeated to her what Kralinsky had said about having formerly been
intimate with Leven, and Lady Maud took this statement as a basis of
operations for finding out just how much he knew of her own life; she
judged that if he were not Leven himself, he must soon betray the fact
by his ignorance.
That was the strangest day she had ever passed. She found it very easy
to talk with Kralinsky, as it always is when there has been long
familiarity, even if it has been only the familiar intercourse of
domestic discord. He knew many details of her life in London. That was
clear after half an hour's conversation. She alluded to the idle talk
there had been about her and Van Torp; Kralinsky knew all about that
and had heard, as he said, some silly story about Leven having found
her with the American in certain rooms in the Temple, and about an
envelope which was said to have contained over four thousand and one
hundred pounds in bank-notes. He politely scouted the story as
nonsense, but he had heard it, and Lady Maud knew that every word of
it was true. He knew of Leven's unsuccessful attempt to divorce her on
that ground, too, and he knew the number of her house in Charles
Street, Berkeley Square.
On the other hand, there were many things of which he knew nothing, or
pretended to be ignorant, such as the names of her brothers and
sisters, her father's favourite pursuits and the like. But she
understood very well that if he thought she suspected his identity
under the disguise of his beard, and if he wished to avoid
recognition, he was just the man to pretend blank ignorance of some
vital matters, after admitting his acquaintance with many others. He
had been very intimate with Leven, to the last, he said; Leven had
always written to him very fully about his life, very wittily
sometimes, but always without balance! That was it; he had no
'balance.' Yes, he himself had been in Petersburg when Leven was
killed and had seen him on the previous day. Within a week he had made
a rapid trip to New York, whence he had now just returned. He had
crossed on five-day boats both going and coming, and he named them.
'I am naturally interested in meeting any one who knew my husband so
well,' Lady Maud said, making a bold dash at a possibility. 'We had
many differences, as you seem to know, but I daresay that if he could
come back to life and know the real truth, we should forgive each
other.'
She looked up to him with a gentle smile as she said this, for she had
often felt it; and in that instant a flash of light came into his
usually rather uncertain eyes. Her heart stood still; she looked at
the sea again directly, for she was leaning against the rail; then she
drew breath, as if from an effort. She had seen a look that could only
mean recognition. Leven was alive and was standing beside her. But she
had the courage to go on talking, after a moment, and she tried to
change the subject, though not very adroitly.
During the afternoon Mr. Van Torp had a revelation, sudden and clear,
for he had watched Lady Maud and Kralinsky all day and had thought
about them a good deal, considering how his mind was occupied with
other matters even nearer to his heart than his best friend's welfare.
As soon as the revelation came upon him he rang for his own man.
Stemp, see here!' he began. 'You've valeted around with all sorts of
different-looking men. How long does it take to grow a beard like
Count Kralinsky's?'
'A year, sir. Not a day less, and longer with most gentlemen. If you
were thinking of it, sir----'
'You don't believe it could be managed in three months, by taking an
expert around with you to work on your face?'
'That's out of the question, sir. Gentlemen's beards that have shaved
all their lives, as I suppose you have, sir, do grow faster, but I
should consider a year a short time for such a fine one as the
Count's. Indeed I should, sir.'
'Do you suppose you could stick it on fresh every day, the way they do
for the stage?'
'Not so that it wouldn't show in broad daylight, sir.'
'Well, that's all. I wasn't exactly thinking of trying a beard. I was
only thinking--just like that. What I rang for was a cap. Got any more
like this? You see I've managed to get a spot of ink on this one. Had
it on the table when I was writing, I suppose. That's the worst of
white caps, they spot so.'
A little later, Mr. Van Torp was looking out for a chance to speak
alone with Lady Maud, and as soon as he found his opportunity, he told
her what Stemp had said. Strangely enough, it had never occurred to
him that such a remarkable beard as Kralinsky's must have taken a long
time to grow, and that Leven, who had none, had not left London more
than three months ago. He watched the effect of this statement on his
friend's face, but to his surprise she remained grave and sad.
'I cannot help it,' she said in a tone of conviction. 'He must be
Leven, whatever Stemp tells you about his beard.'
'Well, then it's a false beard, and will come off,' observed Mr. Van
Torp, with at least equal gravity. 'Stemp says that's impossible, but
he must be wrong, unless you are.'
'It's real,' Lady Maud said, 'and he is my husband. I've talked to him
all day, and he knows things about my life that no one else could,
and if there are others about which he is vague, that must be because
he is pretending, and does not want to show that he knows everything.'
Van Torp shook his head, but remained unconvinced; Lady Maud did not
change her mind either, and was already debating with herself as to
whether it would not be really wiser to speak out and tell Kralinsky
that she had recognised him under his transparent disguise. She felt
that she must know the worst, if she was ever to rest again.
Neither Margaret nor Mrs. Rushmore had ever seen Leven, and they had
not the least idea of what was really going on under their eyes. They
only saw that Lady Maud was making a dead set at the Count, and if
Margaret wondered whether she had misjudged her friend's character,
the elder lady had no doubt as to what was happening.
'My dear child,' she said to Margaret, 'your friend is going to
console herself. Widows of that age generally do, my dear. I myself
could never understand how one could marry again. I should always feel
that dear Mr. Rushmore was in the room. It quite makes me blush to
think of it! Yet it is an undeniable fact that many young widows marry
again. Mark my words, Margaret, your friend is going to console
herself before long. If it is not this one, it will be another. My
dear, I am quite positive about it.'
When the sun went down that evening the yacht had passed Otranto and
the Cape, and her course had been changed, to head her for Cape
Spartivento and the Straits of Messina, having done in twenty-four
hours as much as the little Italian mail-steamers do in forty-eight,
and nearly half as much again as the _Erinna_ could have done at her
highest speed. As Mr. Van Torp had predicted, his engines had 'warmed
up,' and were beating their own record. The gale made by the vessel's
way was stronger than a woman could stand in with any regard to her
appearance, but as the weather continued to be calm it was from
dead-ahead, and there was plenty of shelter on the promenade deck
abaft the wheel-house, on condition of not going too near the rail.
After dinner Kralinsky and Mrs. Rushmore walked a little, as on the
previous evening, and Lady Maud sat with Margaret and Van Torp. But
before the two walkers went off to sit down in the quiet corner they
had found yesterday, Lady Maud rose, went half-way aft, and
deliberately placed herself where they were obliged to pass close to
her at each turn, standing and leaning against the bright white side
of the engine skylight, which was as high as the wheel-house itself,
and broke in aft, where the big ventilating fans were situated, making
a square corner inward.
She stood there, and as it was not very dark in the clear starlight,
Kralinsky saw in passing that she followed his face with her eyes,
turning her head to look at him when he was coming towards her, and
turning it very slowly back again as he came near and went by. It was
impossible to convey more clearly an invitation to get rid of his
companion and join her, and he was the last man in the world to
misunderstand it.
But Mrs. Rushmore saw it too, and as she considered him a lion, and
therefore entitled to have his own way, she made it easy for him.
'My dear Count,' she said blandly, after passing Lady Maud twice, 'I
have really had enough now, and if you will promise to finish your
walk alone, I think I will go and sit with the others.'
He left her with Margaret and Van Torp and went back to Lady Maud, who
moved as he came up to her, made two steps beside him, and then
suddenly slipped into the recess where the fan-house joined the engine
skylight. She stood still, and he instantly ranged himself beside her.
They were quite out of sight of the others, and of the bridge, and
even if it had been daylight they could not have been seen except by
some one coming from aft.
'I want to speak to you,' she said, in a low, steady voice. 'Please
listen quite quietly, for some of them may begin to walk again.'
Kralinsky bent his head twice, and then inclined it towards her, to
hear better what she was going to say.
'It has pleased you to keep up this comedy for twenty-four hours,' she
began.
He made a slight movement, which was natural under the circumstances.
'I do not understand,' he said, in his oily voice. 'What comedy? I
really have no----'
'Don't go on,' she answered, interrupting him sharply. 'Listen to
what I am going to tell you, and then decide what you will do. I don't
think your decision will make very much difference to me, but it will
make a difference to the world and to yourself. I saw you from a
window when you brought Mr. Van Torp to the hotel in Bayreuth, and I
recognised you at once. Since this afternoon I have no doubt left.'
'I never saw you till last night,' said Kralinsky, with some little
surprise in his tone, and with perfect assurance.
'Do you really think you can deceive me any longer?' she asked. 'I
told you this afternoon that if you could come back from the dead, and
know the whole truth, we should probably forgive each other, though we
had many differences. Shall we?' She paused a moment, and by his quick
change of position she saw that he was much moved. 'I don't mean that
we should ever go back to the old life, for we were not suited to each
other from the first, you and I. You wanted to marry me because I was
pretty and smart, and I married you because I wanted to be married,
and you were better-looking than most men, and seemed to have what I
thought was necessary--fortune and a decent position. No, don't
interrupt me. We soon found out that we did not care for each other.
You went your way, and I went mine. I don't mean to reproach you, for
when I saw you were beginning to be tired of me I did nothing to keep
you. I myself was tired of it already. But whatever you may have
thought, I was a faithful wife. Mr. Van Torp had given me a great deal
of money for my charity, and does still. I can account for it. I
never used a penny of it for myself, and never shall; and he never
was, and never will be, any more than a trusted friend. I don't know
why you chose to disappear when the man who had your pocket-book was
killed and you were said to be dead. It's not my business, and if you
choose to go on living under another name, now that you are rich
again, I shall not betray you, and few people will recognise you, at
least in England, so long as you wear that beard. But you had it when
we were married, and I knew you at once, and when I heard you were to
be of the party here, I made up my mind at once that I would accept
the invitation and come too, and speak to you as I'm speaking now.
When I believed you were dead I forgave you everything, though I was
glad you were gone; frankly, I did not wish you alive again, but since
you are, God forbid that I should wish you dead. You owe me two things
in exchange for my forgiveness: first, yours, if I treated you
ungenerously or unkindly; and, secondly, you ought to take back every
word you ever said to me about Mr. Van Torp, for there was not a
shadow of truth in what you thought. Will you do that? I ask nothing
else.'
'Indeed I will, my dear Maud,' said Count Kralinsky, in a voice full
of emotion.
Lady Maud drew a long breath, that trembled a little as it left her
heated lips again. She had done what she believed most firmly to be
right, and it had not been easy. She had not been surprised by his
patient silence while she had been talking; for she had felt that it
was hers to speak and his to listen.
'Thank you,' she said now. 'I shall never go back to what I have said,
and neither of us need ever allude to old times again during this
trip. It will not last long, for I shall probably go home by land from
the first port we touch, and it is not likely that we shall ever meet
again. If we do, I shall behave as if you were Count Kralinsky whom I
have met abroad, neither more nor less. I suppose you will have
conscience enough not to marry. Perhaps, if I thought another woman's
happiness depended on it, I would consent to divorce you, but you
shall never divorce me.'
'No power could make me wish to,' Kralinsky answered, still deeply
moved. 'I was mad in those days, Maud; I was beside myself, between my
debts and my entanglements with women not fit to touch your shoes.
I've seen it all since. That is the chief reason why I chose to
disappear from society when I had the chance, and become some one
else! I swear to you, on my mother's soul in heaven, that I thought of
nothing but that--to set you free and begin life over again as another
man. No thought of marrying has ever crossed my mind! Do you think I
could be as bad as that? But I'm not defending myself--how could I?
All the right is on your side, and all the wrong on mine. And now--I
would give heaven and earth to undo it all and to come back to you!'
Lady Maud drew as far as she could into the corner where the fan-house
joined the engine skylight. She had not expected this; it was too
much repentance; it was too like a real attempt to win her again. He
had not seen her for more than three months; she knew she was very
beautiful; his fleeting passion had come to life again, as he had. But
her old repulsion for him was ten times stronger than when they had
parted, and she shrank back as far as she could, without speaking.
From far below the noiseless engines sent a quick vibration up to the
ironwork of the skylight. She felt it, but could hardly tell it from
the beatings of her own heart. He saw her shrinking from him and was
wise.
'Don't be afraid of me!' he cried, in a low and pleading tone. 'Not
that! Oh, please not that! I will not come nearer; I will not put out
my hand to touch yours, I swear it to you! But I love you as I never
loved you before; I never knew how beautiful you were till I had lost
you, and now that I have found you again you are a thousand times more
beautiful than in my dreams! No, I ask nothing! I have no right to ask
for what I have thrown away! You do not even pity me, I think! Why
should you? You were free when you thought me dead, and I have come
back to be a burden and a weight on your life. Forgive me, forgive me,
my lost darling, for the sake of all that might have been, but don't
fear me! Pity me, if you can, but don't be afraid of me! Say that you
pity me a little, and I shall be satisfied, and grateful too!'
Lady Maud was silent for a few seconds, while he stood turned towards
her, his hands clasped in a dramatic gesture, as if still imploring
her commiseration.
'I do pity you,' she said at last, quite steadily, for just then she
did not fear that he would try to touch even her hand. 'I pity you, if
you are really in love with me again. I pity you still more if this is
a passing thing that has taken hold of you merely because you still
think me handsome. But I will never take you back to be my husband
again. Never. That is finished, for good and all.'
'Ah, Maud, listen to me----'
But she had already slipped out of the corner and was walking slowly
away from him, not towards the others, but aft, so that he might join
her quietly before going back to them. He was a man of the world and
understood her, and did what was expected of him. Almost as soon as he
was beside her, she turned to go forward with her leisurely, careless
grace.
'We've been standing a long time,' said she, as if the conversation
had been about the weather. 'I want to sit down.'
'I am in earnest,' he said, very low.
'So am I,' answered Lady Maud.
They went on towards the wheel-house side by side, without haste, and
not very near together, like two ordinary acquaintances.