THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER
Mr. Blithers received a marconigram from the _Jupiter_ when the ship
was three days out from New York. It was terse but sufficient.
"Have just had a glimpse of Prince Charming. He is very good-looking.
Love to mother. Maud."
He had barely settled into a state of complete satisfaction with
himself over the successful inauguration of a shrewd campaign to get
the better of the recalcitrant Maud and the incomprehensible Robin,
when he was thrown into a panic by the discovery that young Chandler
Scoville had sailed for Europe two days ahead of Maud and her elderly
companion. The gratification of knowing that the two young people had
sailed away on the same vessel was not in the least minimised by Maud's
declaration that she intended to remain in her cabin all the way across
in order to avoid recognition, for he knew her too well to believe it
possible that she could stay out of sight for any length of time, fair
weather or foul. He even made a definite wager with his wife that the
two would become acquainted before they were half-way across the
Atlantic, and he made a bet with himself that nature would do the rest.
And now here came the staggering suspicion that Scoville's hasty
departure was the result of a pre-arranged plan between him and Maud,
and that, after all, the silly girl might spoil everything by marrying
the confounded rascal before he could do anything to prevent the
catastrophe.
He even tried to engineer a scheme whereby young Scoville might be
arrested on landing and detained on one pretext or another until he
could reach Europe and put an end to the fellow's vain-glorious
conniving.
But after consulting with his lawyers he abandoned the plan because
they succeeded in proving to him that Maud certainly would marry the
fellow if she had the least ground for believing that he was being
oppressed on her account. The cables were kept very busy, however, for
the next twenty-four hours, and it is certain that Scoville was a
marked man from the moment he landed.
Newspaper reporters camped on the trail of Mr. Blithers. He very
obligingly admitted that there was something in the report that his
daughter was to marry the Prince of Graustark, although he couldn't say
anything definite at the time. It wouldn't be fair to the parties
concerned, he explained. He gave away a great many boxes of cigars, and
not a few of the more sagacious reporters succeeded in getting at least
three boxes by interviewing him on as many separate occasions without
being detected in the act of repeating. Then came the disgusting
denials in Paris by his daughter and the ungrateful Prince. This was
too much. He couldn't understand such unfilial behaviour on the part of
one, and he certainly couldn't forgive the ingratitude of the other.
Instead of waiting until Saturday to sail, he changed ships and left
New York on Friday, thereby gaining nothing by the move except relief
from the newspapers, for it appears that he gave up a five day boat for
one that could not do it under six. Still he was in active pursuit,
which was a great deal better than sitting in New York twiddling his
thumbs or looking at his watch and berating the pernicious hours that
stood between him and Saturday noon.
"There will be something doing in Europe the day I land there, Lou," he
said to his wife as they stood on deck and watched the Statue of
Liberty glide swiftly back toward Manhattan Island. "I've got all the
strings working smoothly. We've got Groostock where it can't peep any
louder than a freshly hatched chicken, and we'll soon bring Maud to her
senses. I tell you, Lou, there is nothing that makes a girl forget her
lofty ideals so quickly as the chance to go shopping for princess
gowns. She's seen the prince and I'll bet she won't be so stubborn as
she was before. And if he has had a good, square look at her,--if he's
had a chance to gaze into those eyes of hers,--why, I--well, I leave
it to you. He can't help getting off his high horse, can he?"
Mrs. Blithers favoured him with a smile. It was acknowledged that Maud
was the living image of what her mother had been at the age of twenty.
"I hope the child hasn't made any silly promise to Channie Scoville,"
she sighed.
"I've been thinking of that, Lou," said he, wiping his brow, "and I've
come to one conclusion: Scoville can be bought off. He's as poor as Job
and half a million will look like the Bank of England to him. I'll--"
"You are not to attempt anything of the kind, Will," she cried
emphatically. "He would laugh in your face, poor as he is. He comes
from one of the best families in New York and--"
"And I don't know where the best families need money any more than they
do in New York," he interrupted irritably. "'Gad, if the worst families
need it as badly as they do, what must be the needs of the best? You
leave it to me. It may be possible to insult him with a half million,
so if he feels that way about it I'll apologise to him again with
another half million. You'll see that he won't be capable of resenting
two insults in succession. He'll--"
"He isn't a fool," said she significantly.
"He'd be a fool if he refused to take--"
"Are you losing your senses, Will?" she cried impatiently. "Why should
he accept a million to give up Maud, when he can be sure of fifty times
that much if he marries her?"
"But I'll cut Maud off with a dollar if she marries him, so help me
Moses!" exclaimed Mr. Blithers, but he went a little pale just the
same. "That will fix him!"
"You are talking nonsense," said she sharply. He put his fingers to his
ears somewhat earlier than usual, and she turned away with a
tantalising laugh. "I'm going inside," and inside she went. When he
followed a few minutes later he was uncommonly meek.
"At any rate," he said, seating himself on the edge of a chair in her
parlour, "I guess those cablegrams this morning will make 'em think
twice before they go on denying things in the newspapers."
"Maud will pay no attention to your cablegram, and, if I am any judge
of human nature, the Prince will laugh himself sick over the one you
sent to Count Quinnox. I told you not to send them. You are not dealing
with Wall Street. You are dealing with a girl and a boy who appear to
have minds of their own."
He ventured a superior sniff. "I guess you don't know as much about
Wall Street as you think you do."
"I only know that it puts its tail between its legs and howls every
time some one points a finger at it," she observed scornfully.
"Now let's be sensible, Lou," he said, sitting back a little further in
the chair, relieved to find that she was at least willing to tolerate
his presence,--a matter on which he was in some doubt when he entered
the room. There were times when he was not quite certain whether he or
she was the brains of the family. "We'll probably have a wireless from
Maud before long. Then we'll have something tangible to discuss. By the
way, did I tell you that I've ordered some Dutch architects from Berlin
to go--"
"The Dutch are from Holland," she said wearily.
"--to go over to Growstock and give me a complete estimate on repairing
and remodelling the royal castle? I dare say we'll have to do a good
deal to the place. It's several hundred years old and must require a
lot of conveniences. Such as bath-rooms, electric lights, steam heating
appar--"
"Better make haste slowly, Will," she said, and he ought to have been
warned by the light in her eye. "You are taking a great deal for
granted, aren't you?"
"It's got to be fixed up some time, so we might just as well do it in
the beginning," said he, failing utterly to grasp her meaning.
"Probably needs refurnishing from top to bottom, too, and a new roof. I
never saw a ruin yet that didn't leak. Remember those castles on the
Rhine? Will you ever forget how wet we got the day we went through the
one at--"
"They were abandoned, tumble-down castles," she reminded him.
"There isn't a castle in Europe that's any good in a rain-storm," he
proclaimed. "A mortgage can't keep out the rain and that's what every
one of 'em is covered with. Why old man Quiddox himself told me that
their castle had been shot to pieces in one of the revolutions and--"
"It is time you informed yourself about the country you are trying to
annex to the Blithers estate," she said sarcastically. "I can assist
you to some extent if you will be good enough to listen. In the first
place, the royal castle at Edelweiss is one of the most substantial in
the world. It has not been allowed to fall into decay. In fact, it is
inhabitated from top to bottom by members of the royal household and
the court, and I fancy they are not the sort of people who take kindly
to a wetting. It is not a ruin, Will, such as you have been permitted
to visit, but a magnificent building with all of the modern
improvements. The only wettings that the inmates sustain are of a daily
character and due entirely to voluntary association with porcelain
bath-tubs and nickle-plated showers, and they never get anything wet
but their skins. As for the furnishings, I can assure you that the
entire Blithers fortune could not replace them if they were to be
destroyed by fire or pillage. They are priceless and they are unique. I
have read that the hangings in the bed-chamber of the late Princess
Yetive are the most wonderful in the whole world. The throne chair in
the great audience chamber is of solid gold and weighs nearly three
thousand pounds. It is studded with diamonds, rubies--"
"Great Scott, Lou, where did you learn all this?" he gasped, his eyes
bulging.
"--emeralds and other precious stones. There is one huge carpet in the
royal drawing-room that the Czar of Russia is said to have offered one
hundred thousand pounds for and the offer was scorned. The park
surrounding the castle is said to be beautiful beyond the power of
description. The--"
"I asked you where you got all this information. Can't you answer me?"
"I obtained all this and a great deal more from a lady who spent a year
or two inside the castle walls. I refer to Mrs. Truxton King, who might
have told you as much if you had possessed the intelligence to inquire."
"Gee whiz!" exclaimed Mr. Blithers, going back to his buoyant boyhood
days for an adequate expression. "What a wonder you are, Lou. But
that's the woman of it, always getting at the inside of a thing while a
man is standing around looking at the outside. Say, but won't it make a
wonderful home for you and me to spend a peaceful old age in when we
get ready to lay aside the--"
He stopped short, for she had arisen and was standing over him with a
quivering forefinger levelled at his nose,--and not more than six
inches away from it,--her handsome eyes flashing with fury.
"You may walk in where angels fear to tread, but you will walk alone,
Will Blithers. I shall not be with you, and you may as well understand
it now. I've told you a hundred times that money isn't everything, and
it is as cheap as dirt when you put it alongside of tradition, honour,
pride and loyalty. Those Graustarkians would take you by the nape of
the neck and march you out of their castle so quick that your head
would swim. You may be able to buy their prince for Maudie to exhibit
around the country, but you can't buy the intelligence of the people.
They won't have you at any price and they won't have me, so there is
the situation in a nutshell. They will hate Maudie, of course, but they
will endure her for obvious reasons. They may even come to love and
respect her in the end, for she is worthy. But as for you and me,
William,--with all our money,--we will find every hand against us--even
the hand of our daughter, I prophesy. I am not saying that I would
regret seeing Maud the Princess of Graustark--far from it. But I do say
that you and I will be expected to know our places. If you attempt to
spend your declining years in the castle at Edelweiss you will find
them reduced to days, and short ones at that. The people of Graustark
will see to it that you die before your time."
"Bosh!" said Mr. Blithers. "Mind if I smoke?" He took out a cigar and
began searching for matches.
"No," she said, "I don't mind. It is a sign that you need something to
steady your nerves. I know you, Will Blithers. You don't want to smoke.
You want to gain a few minutes of time, that's all."
He lit a cigar. "Right you are," was his unexpected admission. "I
wonder if you really have the right idea about this business. What
objection could any one have to a poor, tired old man sitting in front
of his daughter's fireside and--and playing with her kiddies? It seems
to me that--"
"You will never be a tired old man, that's the trouble," she said,
instantly touched.
"Oh, yes, I will," said he slowly. "I'm rather looking forward to it,
too."
"It will be much nicer to have the kiddies come to your own fireside,
Will. I used to enjoy nothing better than going to spend a few days
with my grandfather."
"But what's the use of going to all this trouble and expense if we are
not to enjoy some of the fruits?" he protested, making a determined
stand. "If these people can't be grateful to the man who helps 'em out
in their time of trouble,--and who goes out of his way to present 'em
with a bright, capable posterity,--I'd like to know what in thunder
gratitude really means."
"Oh, there isn't such a thing as gratitude," she said. "Obligation,
yes,--and ingratitude most certainly, but gratitude,--no. You are in a
position to know that gratitude doesn't exist. Are you forgetting the
private advices we already have had from Graustark? Does it indicate
that the people are grateful? There are moments when I fear that we are
actually placing Maud's life in peril, and I have had some wretched
dreams. They do not want her. They speak of exile for the Prince if he
marries her. And now I repeat what I have said before:--the people of
Graustark must have an opportunity to see and become acquainted with
Maud before the marriage is definitely arranged. I will not have my
daughter cast into a den of lions. Will,--for that is what it may
amount to. The people will adore her, they will welcome her with open
arms if they are given the chance. But they will have none of her if
she is forced upon them in the way you propose."
"I'll--I'll think it over," said Mr. Blithers, and then discovered that
his cigar had gone out. "I think I'll go on deck and smoke, Lou. Makes
it stuffy in here. We'll lunch in the restaurant at half-past one, eh?"
"Think hard, Will," she recommended, with a smile.
"I'll do that," he said, "but there's nothing on earth that can alter
my determination to make Maud the Princess of Groostork. _That's_
settled."
"Graustark, Will."
"Well, whatever it is," said he, and departed.
He did think hard, but not so much about a regal home for aged people
as about Channie Scoville who had now become a positive menace to all
of his well-ordered and costly plans. The principal subject for thought
just now was not Graustark but this conniving young gentleman who stood
ready to make a terrible mess of posterity. Mr. Blithers was
sufficiently fair-minded to concede that the fellow was good-looking,
well-bred and clever, just the sort of chap that any girl might fall in
love with like a shot. As a matter of fact, he once had admired
Scoville, but that was before he came to look upon him as a menace. He
would make a capital husband for any girl in the world, except Maud. He
could say that much for him, without reserve.
He thought hard until half-past one and then went to the wireless
office, where he wrote out a message in cipher and directed the
operator to waste no time in relaying it to his offices in Paris. His
wife was right. It would be the height of folly to offer Scoville money
and it would be even worse to inspire the temporary imprisonment of the
young man.
But there was a splendid alternative. He could manage to have his own
daughter abducted,--chaperon included,--and held for ransom!
The more he thought of it the better it seemed to him, and so he sent a
cipher message that was destined to throw his Paris managers into a
state of agitation that cannot possibly be measured by words. In brief,
he instructed them to engage a few peaceable, trustworthy and
positively respectable gentlemen,--he was particularly exacting on the
score of gentility,--with orders to abduct the young lady and hold her
in restraint until he arrived and arranged for her liberation! They
were to do the deed without making any fuss about it, but at the same
time they were to do it effectually.
He had the foresight to suggest that the job should be undertaken by
the very detective agency he had employed to shadow young Scoville and
also to keep an eye on Maud. Naturally, she was never to know the truth
about the matter. She was to believe that her father came up with a
huge sum in the shape of ransom, no questions asked. He also remembered
in time and added the imperative command that she was to be confined in
clean, comfortable quarters and given the best of nourishment. But,
above all else, it was to be managed in a decidedly realistic way, for
Maud was a keen-witted creature who would see through the smallest
crack in the conspiracy if there was a single false movement on the
part of the plotters. It is also worthy of mention that Mrs. Blithers
was never--_decidedly never_--to know the truth about the matter.
He went in to luncheon in a very amiable, even docile frame of mind.
"I've thought the matter over, Lou," he said, "and I guess you are
right, after all. We will make all the repairs necessary, but we won't
consider living in it ourselves. We'll return good for evil and live in
a hotel when we go to visit the royal family. As for--"
"I meant that you were to think hard before attempting to force Maud
upon Prince Robin's subjects without preparing them for the--"
"I thought of that, too," he interrupted cheerfully. "I'm not going to
cast my only child into the den of lions, so that's the end of it. Have
you given the order, my dear?"
"No," she said; "for I knew you would change it when you came in."
Late that evening he had a reply from his Paris managers. They inquired
if he was responsible for the message they had received. It was a
ticklish job and they wanted to be sure that the message was genuine.
He wired back that he was the sender and to go ahead. The next morning
they notified him that his instructions would be carried out as
expeditiously as possible.
He displayed such a beaming countenance all that day that his wife
finally demanded an explanation. It wasn't like him to beam when he was
worried about anything, and she wanted to know what had come over him.
"It's the sea-air, Lou," he exclaimed glibly. "It always makes me feel
like a fighting-cock. I--"
"Rubbish! You detest the sea-air. It makes you feel like fighting, I
grant, but not like a fighting-cock."
"There you go, trying to tell me how I feel. I've never known any one
like you, Lou. I can't say a word that--"
"Have you had any news from Maud?" she broke in suspiciously.
"Not a word," said he.
"What have you done to Channie Scoville?" she questioned, fixing him
with an accusing eye.
"Not a thing," said he.
"Then, what is it?"
"You won't believe me if I tell you," said he warily.
"Yes, I will."
"No, you won't."
"Tell me this instant why you've been grinning like a Cheshire cat all
day."
"It's the sea-air," said he, and then: "I said you wouldn't believe me,
didn't I?"
"Do you think I'm a fool, Will Blithers?" she flashed, and did not wait
for an answer. He chuckled to himself as she swept imperiously out of
sight around a corner of the deck-building.
He was up bright and early the next morning, tingling with
anticipation. There ought to be word from Paris before noon, and it
might come earlier. He kept pretty close to the wireless operator's
office, and was particularly attentive to the spitting crackle of the
instrument.
About eleven o'clock an incomprehensibly long message began to rattle
out of the air. He contained himself in patience for the matter of half
an hour or longer, and then, as the clatter continued without
cessation, he got up and made his way to the door of the operator's
office.
"What is it? The history of England?" he demanded sarcastically.
"Message for you, Mr. Blithers. It's a long one and I'm having a hard
time picking it up. Everybody seems to be talking at once. Do you want
the baseball scores, Mr. Blithers?"
"Not unless they come in cipher," said Mr. Blithers acidly.
"Some of 'em do. Six to nothing in favor of the Giants, two to
nothing--Here we are at last. I've picked up the _Mauretania_ again.
She's relaying."
Mr. Blithers sat down on the steps and looked at his watch. It would be
five o'clock in Paris. He wondered if they were giving Maud her
afternoon tea, and then choked up with a sudden pity for the terrified
captive. It was all he could do to keep from jumping up and ordering
the operator to drop everything and take a message countermanding his
inhuman instructions to those asses in Paris. Tears gushed from his
eyes. He brushed them away angrily and tried to convince himself that
it served Maud right for being so obstinate. Still the tears came. The
corners of his mouth drooped and his chin began to quiver. It was too
much! The poor child was--
But just then the operator sat back with a sigh of relief, mopped his
brow, and said:
"Good thing you're a rich man, Mr. Blithers. It came collect and--"
"Never mind," blurted Mr. Blithers. "Hand it over."
There were four sheets of writing at some outlandish price per word,
but what cared he? He wanted to get back to his stateroom and his
cipher code as quickly--but his eyes almost started from his head as he
took in the name at the bottom of the message. It was "Maud."
He did not require the cipher book. A fourth reader child could have
read the message without a halt. Maud had taken his request literally.
He had asked her to send him a nice long message, but he did not expect
her to make a four-page letter of it. She was paying him out with a
vengeance!
He took the precaution to read it before handing it over to his wife,
to whom it was addressed in conjunction with himself:
"Dear father and mother," it began--(and he looked at the date line
again to make sure it was from Paris)--"in reply to your esteemed
favour of the nineteenth, or possibly the twentieth, I beg to inform
you that I arrived safely in Paris as per schedule. Regarding the
voyage, it was delightful. We had one or two rough days. The rest of
the time it was perfectly heavenly. I met two or three interesting and
amusing people on board and they made the time pass most agreeably. I
think I wired you that I had a glimpse of a certain person. On my
arrival in Paris I was met at the station by friends and taken at once
to the small, exclusive hotel where they are stopping for the summer.
It is so small and exclusive that I'm sure you have never heard of it.
I may as well tell you that I have seen Channie,--you know who I
mean,--Chandler Scoville, and he has been very nice to me. Concerning
your suggestion that I reconsider the statement issued to the press, I
beg to state that I don't see any sense in taking the world into my
confidence any farther than it has been taken already, if that is
grammatically correct. I have also sent word to a certain person that
he is not to pay any attention to the report that we are likely to
change our minds in order to help out the greedy newspapers who don't
appear to know when they have had enough. I hope that the voyage will
benefit both of you as much as it did me. If I felt any better than I
do now I'd call for the police as a precaution. Let me suggest that you
try the chicken a la Bombardier in the Ritz restaurant. I found it
delicious. I daresay they serve it as nicely on your ship as they do on
the _Jupiter_. as the management is the same. Of course one never can
tell about chefs. My plans are a trifle indefinite. I may leave here at
any moment. It is very hot and muggy and nearly every one is skipping
off to the mountains or seashore. If I should happen to be away from
Paris when you arrive don't worry about me. I shall be all right and in
safe hands. I will let you know where I am just as soon as I get
settled somewhere. I must go where it is quiet and peaceful. I am so
distressed over what has occurred that I don't feel as though I could
ever be seen in public again without a thick veil and a pair of
goggles. I have plenty of money for immediate use, but you might
deposit something to my credit at the Credit Lyonnais as I haven't the
least idea how long I shall stay over here. Miranda is well and is
taking good care of me. She seldom lets me out of her sight if that is
any comfort to you. I hope you will forgive the brevity of this
communication and believe me when I say that it is not lack of love for
you both that curtails its length but the abominably hot weather. With
endless love from your devoted daughter--Maud."
The tears had dried in Mr. Blithers' eyes but he wiped them time and
again as he read this amazing letter,--this staggering exhibition of
prodigality. He swore a little at first, but toward the end even that
prerogative failed him. He set out in quest of his wife. Not that he
expected her to say any more than he had said, but that he wanted her
to see at a glance what kind of a child she had brought into the world
and to forever hold her peace in future when he undertook to speak his
mind.
He could not understand why his wife laughed softly to herself as she
read, and he looked on in simple amazement when she deliberately
undertook to count the words. She counted them in a whisper and he
couldn't stand it. He went down where the children were shrieking over
a game of quoits and felt singularly peaceful and undisturbed.
It was nearly bed-time before word came from his managers in Paris.
Bed-time had no meaning for him after he had worked out the message by
the code. It is true that he observed a life-long custom and went to
bed, but he did not do it for the purpose of going to sleep.
"Your daughter has disappeared from Paris. All efforts to locate her
have failed. Friends say she left ostensibly for the Pyrenees but
inquiries at stations and along line fail to reveal trace of her.
Scoville still here and apparently in the dark. He is being watched.
Her companion and maid left with her last night. Prince of Graustark
and party left for Edelweiss to-day."
So read the message from Paris.