A SAMPLE OF THE LAMOTTE BLOOD.
Mr. Jasper Lamotte is a tall man, a dark man, and a stately man. He is
grave of speech, yet very suave and pleasing. He is open handed and
charitable, and a very popular man among the people of W----. He will
rein in his blooded horses to ask after the health of his factory hands,
and doff his hat to the wife of his humblest tenant. He has been for
many years a resident of W----. Years ago he was a great traveler,
coming and going almost incessantly, but, after a time, he built the
largest and newest of the W---- mills, and settled himself down to rear
his family, and attend in person to his "bales and shekels."
Francis Lamotte is, what his father has been, a tall, dark eyed, sallow
skinned young man, with a Greek profile, a profusion of curling dusky
hair, a soft slow voice, a sweet and most pleasing smile; aristocratic
hands and feet, a most affable manner; a very agreeable companion, and a
dutiful son and brother. So saith W----. Such is Francis Lamotte, and
being such, he is voted, with one consent, the handsomest young man in
W----. Francis Lamotte, too, is popular with the people of W----;
handsome and fascinating, the son of a father whose fortune is said to
be enormous; he is welcomed in every household circle, and he brings
pleasure and courtesy wherever he enters.
"Constance, my child, what is this that I hear?" exclaims Jasper
Lamotte, taking the hand of Miss Wardour as she advances to meet him.
"Have they not exaggerated the truth? The village is full of rumors."
"Constance, good morning," breaks in Francis Lamotte. "Father's head is
a little turned by all this. _Have_ you had a burglar? _Have_ they
stolen the Wardour diamonds? And _are_ you frightened to death? And,"
with a malicious glance toward Mrs. Aliston, who had forsaken her window
and was rolling slowly towards them, serene, and dignified, "did they
bind and gag dear Mrs. A--?"
"Yes, yes! and no, no!" says Constance, cutting off the retort that was
rising to the lips of her aunt. "Be seated, Mr. Lamotte; sit down Frank.
I have 'had a burglar,' they did steal my diamonds. But--well, they did
not frighten me for I was not aware of their presence, and they did not
bind Aunt Honor for they--"
"Hadn't rope enough," interrupts that lady, at which they all laugh.
"But seriously, Constance," resumes Lamotte _pere_, "this is a bad
business; a _very_ bad business; good gracious! are we all to be robbed
at the pleasure of these rascals? plundered whenever their pockets run
dry? It's abominable! What has been done? There should be an officer on
the spot now."
"So there is," breaks in Aunt Honor, with suspicious sweetness.
"Constable Corliss and Mayor Soames, are examining the library and
dressing room."
Mr. Lamotte retains his gravity, but after exchanging demure glances,
and in spite of themselves, Constance and Francis Lamotte laugh
outright.
"Then, my friends, let us await a revelation," Francis drawls in the
most approved "camp meeting" fashion.
"Poor Corliss!" Mr. Lamotte smiles slightly; "at any rate he will try to
do his duty. But, Constance, you should have an officer here as soon as
possible; I should not come here venturing my suggestions but I learned,
accidentally, that your lawyer O'Meara, is absent; that is another
misfortune. O'Meara has a long clear head; would not make a bad
detective himself. As he _is_ away, and you need some one to act for
you, why, I place myself at your disposal; if you have not already
appointed an agent," with another smile.
"I have made no move in the matter, Mr. Lamotte; indeed, I have hardly
had time to think, as yet. I suppose, too, that we have lost valuable
time, and yet we can't get a detective down here in a moment. Pray take
what measures you deem best, and let us have the _best_ officer that we
can get. I am especially anxious to capture the thieves if possible--and
the diamonds--of course."
"England expects every man to do his duty," quoted Francis. "Constance
give me an appointment, too."
"So I will," retorted Constance, wickedly. "I think you are eminently
fitted to assist--Mr. Corliss."
"Frank, be serious," says Mr. Lamotte, with a touch of severity. "Now
Constance, let us do what we can to make up for this unavoidable loss of
time; first tell me, as minutely as you can, just how this robbery was
discovered."
"It's a very brief story," says Constance, smiling slightly, and then
she narrates, in a somewhat hurried manner, as if she were weary of the
subject, and wanted to have done with it, the events of the morning,
omitting, however, to mention the finding of the chloroform vial, and
the half square of cambric.
"Mr. Soames and the constable--and several more, were on the spot with
great promptness," finished she, with a comical glance toward Mrs.
Aliston.
"We overlooked their proceedings until we discovered that they would do
no actual damage, but would leave everything exactly as they found it,
and then--"
"Yes," interrupted Francis, with a queer smile upon his lips, "and then
you found a more agreeable occupation."
"And then," continued Constance, as if she had not heard him, but
returning his half-malicious look with interest, "Dr. Heath called, and
I told him all about it. He is very clear headed and sensible, and I was
sorry his time was so limited; he might have been of some assistance,
and--"
"Too bad," again broke in young Lamotte, with something very like a
sneer upon his handsome face. "Let me repair the damage. I'll tell him
to call--"
"Oh, not at all, Frank; pardon my interruption," said the girl, turning
her eyes full upon him with artful artlessness. "You are very good, but
it's quite unnecessary. Dr. Heath promised to call again during the day
or evening."
Frank Lamotte bit his lip, but kept silent; and the elder man came to
the rescue. He had been thinking, and without seeming to have noticed
the little passage at arms, he arose and said: "Well, Constance, I don't
see that talking will do much good just now; what the occasion demands
is action. My first impulse was to telegraph at once for an officer from
the city force, but, on reflection, I think it better not to use the
telegraph. Our every movement may be closely noted, and to send a
message would be to set some one watching for the arrival of a
detective, and once his identity becomes known, farewell to his
prospects of success. It will take a few hours longer to get him here,
but I think I had better visit the city in person, lay the case before
our man, and so enable him to enter the town prepared for his work, and
able to maintain his incognito. I have business of my own in the city,
and Mrs. Lamotte is anxious to do some shopping. Women are always
anxious to shop, I believe. I will return home at once, and give her
warning; it will look less like a business trip if she accompanies me.
How does this plan suit you?"
"Any plan that brings us a competent officer as early as possible, will
suit me," replied Constance. "It's _very_ good of you to take all this
trouble, Mr. Lamotte."
"Nothing of the sort," expostulated Mr. Lamotte, heartily. "I am always
at the service of my daughter's dearest friend. By the by, Sybil is not
yet aware of your loss. I did not enlighten her, for I knew she would
insist upon coming with me, and that," smiling a little, "would have
necessitated waiting for toilette."
"And apropos of toilettes," cried his son, springing up. "There is
_Mere_, she will want due warning, for nothing short of a full hour will
she take. So, sir, let's take a look at Soames and Corliss, and hasten
our departure."
"Right; quite right, Frank, I will appoint you as my representative in
my absence. You are to execute any and all of Miss Wardour's commands."
"I am ready to do that at any and all times," replied the young man,
with sudden gravity, and letting his dark eyes rest for a moment upon
the face of the lady in question. And then, without waiting for an
answering remark, he turned from the room, followed by his father and
the two ladies.
[Illustration: "I am ready to do that at any and all times."]
They found Corliss making his final sprawl, and the entire committee of
investigation ready with any quantity of newly hatched theories,
probable and improbable. Cutting short their eloquence, however, Mr.
Lamotte recommended them to talk as little as possible among the
townspeople, and to pursue the investigation quietly, after their own
light. Then, after a few more words with the fair heiress, father and
son took their leave.
Left alone, Constance sprang lightly out from the open library window,
and began pacing the graveled walk, with a brow wrinkled in thought.
Hearing a step behind her, she turned to encounter once more the gaze of
Francis Lamotte.
"I beg your pardon," he said, quite humbly. "I was commissioned by Sybil
to give you this," extending a dainty white note. "In the excitement of
the morning I quite forgot it. Sybil gave me it last evening, asking me
to deliver it this morning," and lowering his voice, "knowing it would
be for me an exceedingly delightful mission."
Constance took the missive, and twisting it carelessly in her fingers,
said:
"Of course, Frank; many thanks. And now, as you are under my commands, I
forbid any more flattery and nonsense, sir. I am not in the mood to
retort."
"So much the better for me," muttered the young man, moodily.
"Constance, I--"
"Silence, sir! Have you not received your orders? My mind is on my
losses. If you can think of no way to further our search, I shall
dismiss you."
"I have thought of a way, then," he replied, with a touch of dignity. "I
think one point has been overlooked. Those robbers have undoubtedly fled
the town with their treasure, but it is hardly likely that they went by
any very public thoroughfare. Now one, two or more strangers, traveling
across the country, may have been seen by some cottager, farmer, or wood
cutter; and I think it would be a mistake to neglect what might give us
a clue. Probably the rascals took to their heels during the hours of
darkness, making for some small railroad station. Now, I propose to go
straightway, mount my horse, and scour the country in search of
information. If I find a clew I shall follow it up; and so, if you don't
see me by to-morrow morning, Constance, you may know that I have struck
the trail."
"Why, Frank," cried Constance, in a burst of outspoken admiration. "I
didn't think it was in you! Really, I admire you immensely; and you will
really abandon your ease and comfort for--"
"You."
"No, don't put it in that way; say for justice."
"I don't care a fig for justice!" impatiently. "My motive is purely
selfish. If I can be instrumental in recovering your diamonds, may I not
hope for some very small reward?"
"To be--sure, Frank. I had overlooked that; a reward of course. I mean
to have posters out right away, and--you may as well earn it as any
one."
Francis Lamotte turned swiftly and stood for a moment with bent, averted
head; then turning once more toward her a set, white face, he said:
"Even your cruelty shall not prevent me from serving you to the fullest
extent of my power. And while I am gone you will receive--" he broke off
abruptly, then went on, speaking huskily. "Constance, a girl like you
can know little of the life led by a man who is an enigma even to his
fellow men. I wish I could teach you to distrust--"
She lifted one hand, warningly. "You can teach me to distrust no one
but yourself, Frank; and please don't perpetually talk of me as some
unsophisticated school girl. I am twenty-one, nearly as old as you, my
child,--old enough, certainly, to form my own judgment of people and
things. Don't let's quarrel, Frank; you know I have been taught
self-reliance, and never submit to dictation."
"As the queen pleases;" he lifted his hat with a graceful gesture.
"Good-morning, Constance," and he turned and strode rapidly away.
"Frank."
He stopped and turned toward her, but did not retrace his steps.
"Are you really going, _a la Don Quixote_?"
"I really am," gravely.
He lifted his hat once more, and without uttering a word, resumed his
rapid walk down the graveled footpath. Reaching the entrance to the
grounds he paused, leaning for a moment against a stone pillar of the
gateway; his hands were clenched until the nails left deep indentations
in the flesh; his face was ghastly and covered with great drops of
perspiration, and, whether the look that shone from his glittering dark
eyes betokened rage, or despair, or both, an observer could not have
guessed.
Meanwhile, Constance stood as he had left her, gazing after him with a
mingled expression of annoyance and regret.
"It was very ungracious of me," she thought, half penitently, "but
there's no other way with Frank, and his love-making annoys me
exceedingly, especially since Aunt Honor's discovery. How she detests
him, and Aunt Honor is too easy to lavish her hate upon many."
As if conjured up by her words, Mrs. Aliston appeared at the window.
"Handsome fellow, isn't he?" that is what her lips said, but the tone
and look said quite as plainly, "detestable, abominable, odious." For
Mrs. Aliston believed that she had discovered a good reason for
disliking Frank Lamotte.
"Don't be exasperating, Aunt Honor," retorted Constance, re-entering the
window with a slow, languid movement, as if the events of the morning
had wearied her vastly. "Everybody has outdone themselves in the
disagreeable line, myself included. I wish the burglars had carried me
off along with my jewels. I am going up-stairs and try another dose of
burglarious chloroform. But, first," dropping into the nearest chair,
and assuming a tragic tone, "Let me peruse the letter of my beloved
Sybil."
She broke the seal of the dainty envelope, to find that it enclosed
another and still smaller one; and on this she read:
Constance, if I did not trust you so fully, I would not dare risk
this: Do not open this envelope until sunset of to-morrow
(Saturday); the contents will enlighten you as to my reasons for
this strangeness _then_.
There was no signature, but the handwriting of Sybil Lamotte was too
familiar to be mistaken. And, Constance Wardour sat silent and
motionless, gazing at the little envelope with such a look of intense
gravity upon her face as had not rested there during the entire
morning.
Mrs. Aliston, who was a woman of tact, and understood her niece
thoroughly, seemed not to have noticed the unopened envelope, and asked
for no news from Sybil.
Presently, Constance arose, and, still wearing that weary air and solemn
face, crossed the room; with her hand upon the door, she turned her face
toward Mrs. Aliston, saying:
"Auntie, you hear about all that's going; did you ever hear that there
was a streak of insanity in the Lamotte blood?" And then, without
waiting for the astonished lady to reply, she quietly passed out and up
the broad stairs.