This would not do. Sir Robert had tapped at her door. He too had
whispered. She had not answered him. She would not now answer me. I
turned away--hurt, bewildered.
I do not know how long I stood there, motionless, a little way from the
door. I could not think clearly. And all the time it seemed to me that I
must force myself to think.
After a time I deliberately went downstairs and ordered a light
breakfast. But when it came I could not eat it. I could only nibble at a
crust of toast and sip a little of the _café au lait_.
I went out into the air and walked about. It was absolutely necessary
that I should steady myself. The day was big with evil possibilities.
Crocker, if I could judge from my one previous experience with him,
might be up and about by mid-afternoon. I must control myself. I must be
calm. Crocker had a set purpose and a strong body. I, presumably, though
weak in body, had a mind. I was the only obstacle between Crocker and
his purpose.
It was just a quarter past nine when I turned back into the street
that led to the _Hôtel de Chine_. The shops, with their highly colored
displays and their quaint smells, were all buzzing with the rush of the
morning trade. Coolies, merchants, purchasers and idlers of all ages
jostled to and fro. Underfoot the children swarmed.
I was picking my way through this busy little thoroughfare, when,
looking up, I saw Heloise step out of the hotel. She wore a veil that
hid her face, from me. And then she was a hundred feet or so away. She
turned in my direction. The street crowd closed in between us, and for a
moment I lost sight of her.
I remember plunging crazily forward to meet her. Then I saw her again,
and my heart stood still. For Sir Robert had followed her out of the
hotel and caught up with her. She had stopped, and was listening to him.
He took her arm.
She withdrew her arm from his touch. But she made no effort to leave
him. She was standing irresolute, I thought, listening to him. I plunged
toward them again.
Then suddenly I stopped. For they were walking together now--right
toward me. He was bending down over her. I could see that he was talking
to her, very earnestly. And she was listening!
He reached out with his stick, as I watched, and brushed a group of
coolies aside. He was protecting her.
I just stood there. I could not think out what I ought to do. I had
meant to rescue her from him. But I could not do this against her wish.
A moment more and they would be upon me.
Still I hesitated. Finally, really without any plan of action, I stepped
up and into a Chinese shop and watched them as they walked slowly by.
He was talking--still talking--in a low, insistent voice. I could not
hear what he was saying. And I could not quite make out her expression
behind her veil.
When they were well past, I stepped out. I followed. For I had come to
this.
At the _glacis_, they turned to the right, walking, oh, so slowly. And
I, a miserable thing with nothing but ungovernable turbulence in my
heart, dodged in and out among the street traffic, and shadowed them. I
shadowed the woman I love.
They went--without thought or aim, apparently--around outside the wall
of the Imperial City and toward the Chien Gate. At the western end of
Legation Street they paused, and for a few minutes stood on the corner.
He was talking, talking, talking. I saw him making eager, nervous
gestures with his monocle between his fingers.
Then, slowly, they moved on toward the old stone ramp that leads up to
the top of the Tartar Wall, just outside the compound of the American
Legation.