CONTRASTS
We sat out in the foyer and took our coffee. I did not suggest a visit
to any place of entertainment, as I knew it was better for Felicia to
retire early, in order that I might pass through the sitting-room to
her uncle's room, unheard. The orchestra was playing delightful music;
the rooms were thronged with a gay and fashionable crowd.
Nevertheless, my companion's spirits, which had been high enough
during dinner, now seemed to fail her. More than once during the
momentary silence I saw the absent look come into her eyes,--saw her
shiver as though she were recalling the little tragedy of a few
minutes ago. I had hitherto avoided mentioning it, but I tried now to
make light of the matter.
"I spoke to Louis coming out," I remarked. "The man Bartot has only
had a slight stroke. With a neck like that, I wonder he has not had it
before."
She found no consolation in my words. She only shook her head sadly.
"You do not understand," she said. "It is part of the game. So it goes
on, Capitaine Rotherby," she said, looking at me with her sad
eyes. "So it will go on to the end."
"Come," I said, "you must not get morbid."
"Morbid," she repeated. "It is not that. It is because I know."
"Do you believe, then," I asked, "that Bartot was poisoned?"
She looked at me as though in surprise. Her eyes were like the eyes of
a child.
"I know it!" she answered simply. "There is not any question about it
at all."
I listened to the music for several moments in silence. Once or twice
I stole a glance at her. Notwithstanding a certain perfection of
outline, and a toilette which removed her wholly from any suggestion
of immaturity, there was yet something childish in the pale, drawn
face,--in the eyes with their look of fear. My heart was full of
sympathy for her. Such adventures as this one into which I seemed to
have stumbled were well enough for men. She, at any rate, was wholly
out of place in her present position! I had wild dreams at that
moment. The wine and the music, and the absolute trustfulness with
which she seemed, for the moment, to have committed herself to my
keeping, fired my blood. I had thoughts of taking her hand in mine, of
bidding her leave the hotel that night, that minute, with me,--of
taking her away into the country, into some quiet place where we could
be married, and where none of these things which terrified her could
throw their shadows across her life! Yet barely had the thought come
to me before I realized how impossible it all was. I, too, was an
adventurer! If I were not actually in the power of these men, it was
to them that I owed my liberty! My own spirits began to fall. It was a
queer maze this into which I had been drawn.
The music changed its note. Even as we sat there its languorous,
passionate rhythm passed away, to be succeeded by the quicker, cleaner
notes of some old martial music. It came to me like a cold douche. I
remembered that I had been--was still--a soldier. I remembered that my
word was pledged to certain undertakings, and that after all I was
fighting on her side. The momentary depression passed away. I found
myself able to talk more lightly, until something of the old gayety
came back to her also.
"Tell me," she said, as at last we rose to vacate our places,--"you
spoke the other day of going down into the country."
"I am not leaving London just yet," I said decidedly.
If I had indeed made some great sacrifice, I should have been rewarded
by the brilliant look which she flashed up at me. Her eyes for a
moment were absolutely the color of violets. I heard people whisper as
we passed by. We said very little more to one another. I left her at
the lift, and she gave me both her hands with a little impulsive
gesture which I had already learned to look for. Then one of those
inexplicable moods seemed to take possession of her. As the lift shot
away from me I saw that her eyes were full of tears.
I made my way back to the cafe. It was now almost deserted. All but
one or two very late diners had gone, and the tables were being
prepared for supper. Louis, however, was still there, sitting at the
desk by the side of the cashier, and apparently making calculations.
He came forward when he saw me enter, and we met by chance just as one
of the under-managers of the hotel passed by.
"What can I do for you this evening, Captain Rotherby?" he asked,
with his usual bow. "A table for supper, perhaps?"
"I want some coffee," I asked. "I want you to see that it is strong,
and well made."
Louis turned and gave an order to a waiter. I sat down, and he stood
by my side.
"Mademoiselle has gone to her room?" he asked.
"Five minutes ago," I answered.
"In an hour," he said, "it will be safe for monsieur to go to Mr.
Delora's room. You need not pass through the sitting-room at all.
There is a door into the bedroom connecting with the corridor. If
mademoiselle hears anything, she will think that it is the doctor."
"I shall be quite ready," I answered. "There are only one or two
things I want to ask you. One is this, what explanation is to be given
of my occupying that room, if there is a row?"
"There will not be a row," Louis answered coolly. "If monsieur is
hurt, I shall see to it that he is conveyed to his own apartment. If
any one who attacks him, or tries to search the apartment, should be
hurt by monsieur, I shall see, too, that they are removed quietly.
These things are easy enough. The service through the night is almost
abandoned. Monsieur may not know it, but on the floor on which he
sleeps there is not a single servant."
"Supposing I ring my bell?" I asked.
"If it were answered at all," Louis said, "it would be by the lift
man."
"On the whole," I remarked, "it seems to me that the residential side
of the hotel is admirably suited to the nocturnal adjustment of small
differences!"
Louis smiled.
"There has never been any trouble, sir," he said. "You see," he
added, pointing to the clock, "it is now ten o'clock. In one hour
monsieur should be there. I have ordered whiskey and soda to be put in
the room."
"Shall I see anything of you, Louis?" I asked.
"It is not possible, monsieur," he answered. "I must be here until
half-past twelve or one o'clock to attend to my supper guests."
I leaned back in my chair and laughed silently. It seemed to me a
strange thing to speak so calmly of the service of the restaurant,
while upstairs I was to lie quiet, my senses strained all the time,
and the chances of life and death dependent, perhaps, on the quickness
of my right arm, or some chance inspiration. I saw the usual throng
come strolling in--I myself had often been one of them--actresses who
had not time to make a toilette for the restaurant proper, actors,
managers, agents, performers from all the hundreds of pleasure houses
which London boasts, Americans who had not troubled to dress,
Frenchwomen who objected to the order prohibiting their appearance in
hats elsewhere,--a heterogeneous, light-hearted crowd, not afraid to
laugh, to make jokes, certain to outstay their time, supping frugally
or _au prince_, according to the caprice of the moment. And
upstairs I saw myself waiting in a darkened room for what? I felt a
thrill of something which I had felt just before the final assault
upon Ladysmith, when we had drunk our last whiskey and soda, thrown
away our cigarettes, and it had been possible to wonder, for a moment,
whether ever again our lips would hold another. Only this was a very
different matter. I might be ending my days, for all I knew, on behalf
of a gang of swindlers!
"Louis," I said, "it would make me much more comfortable if you could
be a little more candid. You might tell me in plain words what these
men want from Delora. How am I to know that he is not the thief, and
these others are seeking only their own?"
Louis was silent for a moment. He glanced carelessly around the room
to assure himself that there were no listeners.
"I can tell you no more, sir," he said, "for if I told you more, I
should tell you lies. I will only remind you that you owe us a debt
which I am asking you to pay, and that it is the uncle of mademoiselle
whose place you are taking."
"I am not in the least convinced," I said, "that I am aiding the uncle
of mademoiselle in allowing myself to be attacked in his place."
"As for that," Louis answered, "you shall be assured to-morrow, and,
if you will, there is another adventure still to be undertaken. You
shall go to see Mr. Delora, and be thanked with his own lips."
"There is some sense in that, Louis," I allowed, lighting another
cigarette, "but I warn you I shall make him tell me the truth."
Louis smiled inscrutably.
"Why not, monsieur?" he said.
"Tell me this, at any rate, Louis," I asked. "What is it that you hope
for from this evening? You believe that some one will break in with
the idea of robbing or else murdering Mr. Delora. They will find me
there instead. What is it you hope,--that they will kill me, or that
I shall kill them, or what?"
"That is a very reasonable question," Louis admitted. "I will answer
it. In the first place, I would have them know that they have not all
the wits on their side, and if they plot, we, too, can counterplot. In
the second place, I wish you to see the man or the men face to face
who make this attempt, and be prepared, if necessary, to recognize
them hereafter. And in the third place, there is one man to whom, if
he should himself make the attempt, I should be very glad indeed if
harm came of it."
"Thank you, Louis," I said, "I am not proposing to do murder if I can
help it."
"One must defend one's self," Louis said.
"Naturally," I answered, "up to a certain point. You have nothing more
to tell me, then?"
"Nothing, sir," Louis answered calmly. "I wish you once more _bonne
fortune_!"
I nodded, and left the cafe. Of the hall-porter I made an inquiry as
to the man who had had a fit in the cafe earlier in the evening.
"The doctor has been to see him twice, sir," the man told me. "It was
a sort of apoplectic stroke, brought on by something which he had
eaten."
"Will he recover?" I asked.
"The doctor says it is serious," the man answered, "but that with
careful nursing he will pull round. We have just sent a telegram to a
lady in Paris to come over."
I smiled as I rang the bell for the lift. So I might see my lady of
the turquoises again.