THE CAT IS AWAY
Robins's face was glowing with excitement. He put his hands in his
trousers pockets and nervously jingled the coins therein, all the while
regarding his Minister of Police with speculative eyes. Then he turned
to the window and continued to stare down into the Place Vendome for
several minutes, obviously turning something over in his mind before
coming to a decision. The Baron waited. None knew better than he how to
wait. He realised that a great deal hung upon the next few sentences to
be uttered in that room, and yet he could be patient.
At last Robin faced him, but without speaking. An instant later he
impulsively withdrew the letter from his pocket and held it out to the
Baron, who strode across the room and took it from his hand. Without a
word, he extracted the single sheet of paper and read what was written
thereon.
"I gather from the nature of the invitation that you are expected to
enjoy stolen fruit, if I may be so bold as to put it in just that way,"
said he grimly. "Apparently Miss Guile finds the presence of a duenna
unnecessarily wise."
"There's no harm in a quiet little excursion such as she suggests,
Baron," said Robin, defensively.
"You forget that I have seen the beautiful Miss Guile," said Gourou
drily. "I take it, then, that you approve of the young lady's scheme."
"Scheme sounds rather sinister, doesn't it?"
"Trick, if it please you more than the other. Moreover, I cannot say
that she _suggests_ the quiet little excursion. It occurs to me that
she commands, your highness." He held the missive to the light and
read, a tender irony in his voice: "'My motor will call for you at
three this afternoon, and we will run out to St. Cloud for tea; at the
Pavilion Bleu. Mrs. Gaston is spending the day with relatives at
Champigny, and we may as well be mice under the circumstances. If you
have another engagement, pray do not let it interfere with the pleasure
I am seeking.' Nothing could be more exacting, my dear Prince. She
signs herself 'B. Guile,' and I am sure she is magnificently beguiling,
if you will pardon the play on words."
"You wouldn't adopt that tone of suspicion if you knew Miss Guile,"
said Robin stiffly. "I am sure nothing could be more frank and
above-board than her manner of treating the--"
"And nothing so cock-sure and confident," put in the Baron. "It would
serve her right if you ignored the letter altogether."
"If I were as old as you, Baron, I haven't the least doubt that I
should do so," said Robin coolly. "And by the same token, if you were
as young as I, you'd do precisely the thing that I intend to do. I'm
going to St. Cloud with her."
"Oh, I haven't been in doubt about that for an instant," said Gourou.
"At your age I greatly favoured the clandestine. You will not pretend
to assume that this is not a clandestine excursion."
"It's a jolly little adventure," was all that Robin could say, in his
youthfulness.
The Baron was thoughtful. "There is something behind this extraordinary
behaviour on the part of a lady generally accredited with sense and
refinement," said he after a moment. "I think I have it, too. She is
deliberately putting you to a rather severe test."
"Test? What do you mean?"
"She is trying you out, sir. Miss Guile,--or possibly Miss Blithers,--is
taking a genuine risk in order to determine whether you are a real
gentleman or only a make-believe. She is taking a chance with you. You
may call it a jolly little adventure, but I call it the acid test.
Young women of good breeding and refinement do not plan such adventures
with casual, ship-board acquaintances. She intends to find out _what_,
not _who_, you are. I must say she's exceedingly clever and courageous."
Robin laughed. "Thank you, Baron. Forewarned is forearmed. I shall
remain a gentleman at any cost."
"She is so shrewd and resourceful that I am almost convinced she can be
no other than the daughter of the amazing Mr. Blithers. I believe he
achieved most of his success through sheer impudence, though it is
commonly described as daring."
"In any case. Baron, I shall make it a point to find out whether she is
the lady who defies the amazing Mr. Blithers, and goes into print about
it."
"She has merely denied that she is engaged to the Prince of Graustark.
Pray do not come back to us with the news that she is engaged to R.
Schmidt," said Gourou significantly.
Robin smiled reflectively. "That _would_ make a jolly adventure of it,
wouldn't it?"
At three o'clock, a big limousine swung under the porte cochere at the
Ritz and a nimble footman hopped down and entered the hotel. Robin was
waiting just inside the doors. He recognised the car as the one that
had taken Miss Guile away from the Gare St. Lazare, and stepped forward
instantly to intercept the man.
"For Mr. Schmidt?" he inquired.
"Oui, M'sieur."
Thrilled by a pleasurable sense of excitement, the Prince of Graustark
entered the car. He was quick to observe that the curtains in the side
windows were partially drawn across the glass. The fact that she
elected to journey to the country in a limousine on this hot day did
not strike him as odd, for he knew that the comfort loving French
people prefer the closed vehicle to the wind-inviting, dust-gathering
touring body of the Americans and British. He observed the single
letter L in gold in the panel of the door, and made mental note of the
smart livery of the two men on the front seat.
A delicate perfume lingered in the car, convincing proof that Miss
Guile had left it but a few minutes before its arrival at the Ritz. As
a matter of fact, she was nearer than he thought, for the car whirled
into the Rue de la Paix and stopped at the curb not more than a hundred
yards from the Place Vendome.
Once more the nimble footman hopped down and threw open the door. A
slender, swift-moving figure in a blue linen gown and a wide hat from
which sprung two gorgeous blue plumes, emerged from the door of a
diamond merchant's shop, and, before Robin could move from his corner,
popped into the car and sat down beside him with a nervous little laugh
on her lips--red lips that showed rose-like and tempting behind a thick
chiffon veil, obviously donned for an excellent reason. The exquisite
features of Miss Guile were barely distinguishable beneath the surface
of this filmy barrier. The door closed sharply and, almost before the
Prince had recovered from his surprise, the car glided off in the
direction of the Place de l'Opera.
"Isn't it just like an elopement?" cried Miss Guile, and it was quite
plain to him that she was vastly pleased with the sprightly
introduction to the adventure. Her voice trembled slightly and she sat
up very straight in the wide, comfortable seat.
"Is it really you?" cried Robin, and he was surprised to find that his
own voice trembled.
"Oh," she said, with a sudden diffidence, "how do you do? What must you
think of me, bouncing in like that and never once speaking to you?"
"If I were to tell you what I think of you, you'd bounce right out
again without speaking to me," said he, smiling. "How do you do?" He
extended his hand, but it was ignored. She sank back into the corner
and looked at him for a moment as if uncertain what to say or do next.
The shadowy red lips were smiling and the big dark eyes were eloquent,
even through the screen.
"I may as well tell you at the outset, Mr. Schmidt, that I've
never--_never_--done a thing like this before," she said, an uneasy
note in her voice.
"I am quite sure of that," said he, "and therefore confess to a vast
wealth of satisfaction."
"What _do_ you think of me?"
"I think that you are frightened almost out of your boots," said he
boldly.
"No, I'm not," said she resolutely. "I am only conscious of feeling
extremely foolish."
"I shouldn't feel that way about stealing off for a cup of tea," said
he. "It's all quite regular, you know, and is frequently done in the
very best circles when the cat's away."
"You see, I couldn't quite scrape up the courage to go directly to the
hotel for you," she said. "I know several people who are stopping there
and I--I--well, you won't think I'm a dreadful person, will you?"
"Not at all," he declared promptly. Then he resolved to put one of the
questions he had made up his mind to ask at the first opportunity. "Do
you mind telling me why you abandoned me so completely, so heartlessly
on the day we landed?"
"Because there was no reason why I should act otherwise, Mr. Schmidt,"
she said, the tremor gone from her voice.
"And yet you take me to St. Cloud for tea," he said pointedly.
"Ah, but no one is to know of this," she cried warmly. "This is a
secret, a very secret adventure."
He could not help staring. "And that is just why I am mystified. Why is
to-day so different from yesterday?"
"It isn't," she said. "Doesn't all this prove it?"
His face fell. "Don't you want to be seen with me, Miss Guile? Am I
not--"
"Wait! Will you not be satisfied with things as they are and refrain
from asking unnecessary questions?"
"I shall have to be satisfied," said he ruefully.
"I am sorry I said that, Mr. Schmidt," she cried, contrite at once.
"There is absolutely no reason why I should not be seen with you. But
won't you be appeased when I say that I wanted to be with you alone
to-day?"
He suddenly remembered the Baron's shrewd conjecture and let the
opportunity to say something banal go by without a word. Perhaps it was
a test, after all. He merely replied that she was paying him a greater
compliment than he deserved.
"There are many things I want to speak about, Mr. Schmidt, and--and you
know how impossible it is to--to get a moment to one's self when one is
being watched like a child, as I am being watched over by dear Mrs.
Gaston. She is my shield and armour, my lovely one-headed dragon. I
placed myself in her care and--well, she is a very dependable person.
You _will_ understand, won't you?"
"Pray do not distress yourself, Miss Guile," he protested. "The last
word is spoken. I am too happy to spoil the day by doubting its
integrity. Besides, I believe I know you better than you think I do."
He expected her to reveal some sign of dismay, but she was suddenly on
guard.
"Then you will not mind my eccentricities," she said calmly, "and we
shall have a very nice drive, some tea and a--lark in place of the more
delectable birds prescribed by the chef at the Pavilion Bleu."
As the car turned into the Boulevard des Capucines Robin suppressed an
exclamation of annoyance on beholding Baron Gourou and Dank standing on
the curb almost within arm's length of the car as it passed. The former
was peering rather intently at the two men on the front seat, and
evinced little or no interest in the occupants of the tonneau.
"Wasn't that your friend Mr. Dank?" inquired Miss Guile with interest.
He felt that she was chiding him.
"Yes," said he, and then turned for another look at his compatriots.
Gourou was jotting something down on his cuff-band. The Prince mentally
promised him something for his pains. "But let us leave dull care
behind," he went on gaily.
"He isn't at all dull," said she.
"But he _is_ a care," said he. "He is always losing his heart, Miss
Guile."
"And picking up some one else's, I fancy," said she.
"By the way, who was the good-looking chap that came to Cherbourg to
meet you?"
"A very old friend, Mr. Schmidt. I've known him since I was that high."
(That high was on a line with her knee.)
"Attractive fellow," was his comment.
"Do you think so?" she inquired innocently, and he thought she
over-played it a little. He was conscious of an odd sense of
disappointment in her. "Have you never been out to St. Cloud? No? I
never go there without feeling a terrible pity for those poor prodigals
who stood beside its funeral pyre and saw their folly stripped down to
the starkest of skeletons while they waited. The day of glory is short,
Mr. Schmidt, and the night that follows is bitterly long. They say
possession is nine points of the law, but what do nine points mean to
the lawless? The rich man of to-day may be the beggar of to-morrow, and
the rich man's sons and daughters may be serving the beggars of
yesterday. I have been told that in the lower east side of New York
City there are men and women who were once princes and princesses,
counts and countesses, dukes and duchesses. Why doesn't some one write
a novel about the royalty that hides its beggary in the slums of that
great city?"
"What's this? Epigrams and philosophy, Miss Guile?" he exclaimed
wonderingly. "You amaze me. What are you trying to convey? That some
day you may be serving yesterday's beggar?"
"Who knows!" she said cryptically. "I am not a philosopher, and I'm
sorry about the epigrams. I loathe people who make use of them. They
are a cheap substitution for wisdom. Do you take sugar in your tea?" It
was her way of abandoning the topic, but he looked his perplexity. "I
thought I'd ask now, just for the sake of testing my memory later on."
She was laughing.
"Two lumps and cream," he said. "Won't you be good enough to take off
that veil? It seriously obstructs the view."
She complacently shook her head. "It doesn't obstruct mine," she said.
"Have you been reading what the papers are saying about your friend Mr.
Blithers and his obstreperous Maud?"
Robin caught his breath. In a flash he suspected an excellent reason
for keeping the veil in place. It gave her a distinct advantage over
him.
"Yes. I see that she positively denies the whole business."
"Likewise the prospective spouse," she added. "Isn't it sickening?"
"I wonder what Mr. Blithers is saying to-day," said he audaciously.
"Poor old cock, he must be as sore as a crab. By the way, it is
reported that she crossed on the steamer with us."
"I am quite certain that she did, Mr. Schmidt," said she.
"You really think so?" he cried, regarding her keenly.
"The man who came to meet me knows her quite well. He is confident that
he saw her at Cherbourg."
"I see," said he, and was thoroughly convinced. "I may as well confess
to you. Miss Guile, that I also know her when I see her."
"But you told me positively that you had never seen her, Mr. Schmidt,"
she said quickly.
"I had not seen her up to the second day out on the _Jupiter_," he
explained, enjoying himself immensely.
"It was after that that you--"
"I know," he said, as she hesitated; "but you see I didn't know she was
Miss Blithers until sometime after I had met you." There was a
challenge in his manner amounting almost to a declaration.
She leaned forward to regard him more intently.
"Is it possible, Mr. Schmidt, that you suspect _me_ of being that
horrid, vulgar creature?"
Robin was not to be trapped. There was something in the shadowy eyes
that warned him.
"At least, I may say that I do not suspect you of being a horrid,
vulgar creature," he said evasively.
"What else can this Miss Blithers be if not that?"
"Would you say that she is vulgar because she refuses to acknowledge a
condition that doesn't exist? I think she did perfectly right in
denying the engagement."
"You haven't answered my question, Mr. Schmidt."
"Well," he began slowly, "I don't suspect you of being Miss Blithers."
"But you did suspect it."
"I was pleasantly engaged in speculation, that's all. It is generally
believed that Miss Blithers sailed under an assumed name--literally,
not figuratively."
"Is there any reason why you should imagine that my name is not Guile?"
"Yes. Your luggage is resplendently marked with the second letter in
the alphabet--a gory, crimson B."
"I see," she said reflectively. "You examined my luggage, as they say
in the customs office. And you couldn't put B and G together, is that
it?"
"Obviously."
"If you had taken the trouble to look, you would have found an equally
resplendent G on the opposite end of each and every trunk, Mr.
Schmidt," she said quietly.
"I did not examine your luggage, Miss Guile," said he stiffly. She
hadn't left much for him to stand upon. "Rather unique way to put one's
initials on a trunk, isn't it?"
"It possesses the virtue of originality," she admitted, "and it never
fails to excite curiosity. I am sorry you were misled. Nothing could be
more distressing than to be mistaken for the heroine of a story and
then turn out to be a mere nobody in the end. I've no doubt that if the
amiable Miss Blithers were to hear of it, she'd rush into print and
belabour me with the largest type that money could buy."
"Oh, come now, Miss Guile," he protested, "it really isn't fair to Miss
Blithers. She was justified in following an illustrious example. You
forget that the Prince of Graustark was the first to rush into print
with a flat denial. What else could the poor girl do?"
"Oh, I am not defending the Prince of Graustark. He behaved abominably,
rushing into print as you say. Extremely bad taste, I should call it."
Robin's ears burned. He could not defend himself. There was nothing
left for him to do but to say that it "served him jolly well right, the
way Miss Blithers came back at him."
"Still," she said, "I would be willing to make a small wager that the
well-advertised match comes off in spite of all the denials. Given a
determined father, an ambitious mother, a purse-filled daughter and an
empty-pursed nobleman, and I don't see how the inevitable can be
avoided."
His face was flaming. It was with difficulty that he restrained the
impulse to put her right in the matter without further ado.
"Are you sure that the Prince is so empty of purse as all that?" he
managed to say, without betraying himself irretrievably.
"There doesn't seem to be any doubt that he borrowed extensively of Mr.
Blithers," she said scornfully. "He is under some obligations to his
would-be-father-in-law, I submit, now isn't he?"
"I suppose so, Miss Guile," he admitted uncomfortably.
"And therefore owes him something more than a card in the newspapers,
don't you think?"
"Really, Miss Guile, I--I--"
"I beg your pardon. The Prince's affairs are of no importance to you,
so why should I expect you to stand up for him?"
"I confess that I am a great deal more interested in Miss Blithers than
I am in the Prince. By the way, what would you have done had you been
placed in her position?"
"I think I should have acted quite as independently as she."
"If your father were to pick out a husband for you, whether or no, you
would refuse to obey the paternal command?"
"Most assuredly. As a matter of fact, Mr. Schmidt, my father has
expressed a wish that I should marry a man who doesn't appeal to me at
all."
"And you refuse?"
"Absolutely."
"More or less as Miss Blithers has done," he said pointedly.
"Miss Blithers, I understand, has the advantage of me in one respect. I
am told that she wants to marry another man and is very much in love
with him."
"A chap named Scoville," said Robin, unguardedly.
"You know him, Mr. Schmidt?"
"No. I've merely heard of him. I take it from your remark that you
don't want to marry anybody--at present."
"Quite right. Not at present. Now let us talk of something else. _A
bas_ Blithers! Down with the plutocrats! Stamp out the vulgarians! Is
there anything else you can suggest?" she cried gaily.
"Long live the Princess Maud!" said he, and doffed his hat. The
satirical note in his voice was not lost on her. She started
perceptibly, and caught her breath. Then she sank back into the corner
with a nervous, strained little laugh.
"You think she will marry him?"
"I think as you do about it, Miss Guile," said he, and she was silenced.