The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure
CHAPTER XI
The house of mourning had suddenly become transformed into a house of
joy.
From the deepest abyss of hopeless despair Helen, during the next few
days, was raised to the highest pinnacle of human felicity. Kenneth
was safe, that was all she wanted to know. Whether he had succeeded or
not in saving the diamonds she did not know or care.
Nothing more had been heard from him. Cable dispatches reported the
_Zanzibar_ to be making good time on her way to Southampton, but, until
the steamer arrived there, no further details were to be expected.
Much, however, had been gleaned as to the fate of the _Abyssinia_, and,
as the accounts of disaster began to come in, she could only thank God
that he had succeeded in escaping such a fearful fate. The ship had
mysteriously caught fire the first day out from Cape Town, and, in the
excitement, the crew, as well as the passengers, lost their heads.
Only one boat could be lowered, and in this Kenneth got away, together
with Francois, his valet, and some other passengers. A news item in
connection with the affair, which was of particular interest to Helen,
ran as follows:
"The loss of the _Abyssinia_ brought to a tragic ending a remarkable
romance in which Mr. Kenneth Traynor, one of the rescued passengers and
a prominent New York broker, is one of the principal figures. Mr.
Traynor is one of two twins so identical in appearance that no one, not
even their own mother, knew them apart. One of the children
mysteriously disappeared when a mere child and was believed to be dead.
Mr. Kenneth Traynor went recently to South Africa on business, and on
the diamond fields found in starving condition an unlucky miner who was
a perfect counterpart of himself. It was his lost brother. Mutual
explanations followed and the identity was established. Overjoyed at
the reunion the two brothers sailed for home on the _Abyssinia_.
Suddenly came the alarm of fire. While the panic on board was at its
worst, the broker lost sight of his brother, whom he never saw again
and whom it is only too certain went down with the ship."
"It's almost unbelievable, isn't it?" exclaimed Helen, as she read the
paragraph for the hundredth time and handed it to Wilbur Steell, who
had dropped in to hear if there was any news.
Ray, who loved a mystery better than anything else in the world,
clapped her hands.
"Isn't it perfectly stunning?"
"Not for Kenneth's brother--poor fellow," said Helen reprovingly. "He
did not live long to enjoy his bettered condition."
"That's right. How thoughtless of me!" said Ray contritely.
As he finished reading Mr. Steell looked puzzled. Looking toward Helen
he asked:
"Did you know that your husband had a twin brother?"
"I only knew it recently--just before he sailed. He did not know it
himself."
"How did he find it out?"
"His old nurse told him. I was present."
"Did the nurse know the brother was in South Africa?"
"No--she had no idea of it. I'm sure of that. It's one of those
wonderful coincidences one some-times hears of."
The lawyer shook his head. Thoughtfully he said:
"It's certainly strange--one of the strangest things I ever heard of."
"Kenneth will be able to tell us more about it when he comes," said Ray.
"Yes--no doubt," asserted her sister quickly.
The lawyer remained thoughtful for a moment. Then, lightly he said:
"We ought to give Kenneth a rousing welcome home. After such
experiences as he has had he richly deserves it."
Eagerly Helen caught at the suggestion.
"By all means!" she cried. "Suppose we give a dinner, followed by a
dance."
"Oh, lovely!" said Ray.
"The night following his arrival," went on Helen enthusiastically.
"We'll make it quite an affair and invite everyone we know--the
Parkers, the Galloways, the Fentons, everybody----"
"Don't forget me!" interrupted Steell.
"Oh, you, of course!" Roguishly she added: "Aren't you one of the
family?"
He looked at her and smiled. In an undertone which Ray, too busy
looking at the paper, did not hear, he added:
"Not yet, but I hope to be."
"The sooner the better, Wilbur," she said earnestly. With a
significant glance at her sister she added, "Don't let her keep you
waiting too long."
Every hour brought nearer the happy day when they would see Kenneth
again. A cablegram from England reported that the _Zanzibar_ had
reached Southampton. Closely following this came a brief message from
Kenneth himself, stating that he was on the point of sailing for New
York on the _Adriatic_. In five more days he would be in New York.
Expectation now reached fever heat, the excitement being communicated
to everyone in the house. Every time the front door bell rang there
was a rush downstairs in the hope that it might be another message.
Ray, bubbling over with excitement, was almost as eager as her sister.
"Won't it be jolly to go down to the dock and meet him?"
Helen shook her head.
"I won't go to meet him. I prefer to be here when he arrives."
Anxiously she added: "I hope everything is all right."
"Why shouldn't it be all right?"
Her sister was silent. It seemed absurd, when everything seemed to
point to her happiness, that she should still feel depressed and
nervous, but, somehow, she could not shake off the feeling that
something was wrong. It was certainly strange that no letter had been
received from Kenneth since the accident. Yet perhaps it was wicked of
her to expect more. She ought to be grateful that he had been spared.
Almost unconsciously she remarked:
"Isn't it strange that Ken hasn't written for so long? I haven't had a
line from him since he left Cape Town."
"Yes--you have," protested her sister. "You had a cablegram telling
you of his safety."
"A cablegram--yes, but no letter. I have had no letter since he left
Cape Town."
"That's true. But how could he write? He has been traveling faster
than the mails."
"I hope he's not hurt."
"Of course not. You would have heard it before this. Bad news travels
fast."
Every moment from now on was devoted to getting the house ready for the
arrival of its lord and master. Ray had skilfully fashioned out of red
letters on white paper, a big "Welcome" sign, which was to be suspended
in the hall on the complacent horns of two gigantic moose heads,
souvenirs of a month's vacation in the Adirondacks. While this was
being done downstairs Helen busied herself in the library and bedroom,
getting ready the things for his comfort--his dressing-gown, his
slippers, his pipe. She detested pipes, as do most women, but she
could not refrain from giving this pipe a furtive kiss, as she laid it
lovingly on the table within easy reach of the arm-chair. The maids,
changed since he went away, were laboriously instructed in what they
should and should not do, what towels should be put in the luxurious
bathroom, what pajamas should be laid on the bed.
Well Helen remembered the first time she had entered this bedroom.
Just married, in the full flush of her new-found happiness, it had all
seemed so beautiful, so ideal. The dull pink color scheme, so chaste
and delicate, the gracefully carved furniture, so luxurious and
elegant, the cupids flying above the massive beautifully carved bed, a
veritable bower of love--all this seemed only a realization of her
girlhood dreams of what married life should be. And now Kenneth was
coming back, after his long absence in South Africa, it would be like
getting married all over again.
The next four days seemed longer than any Helen had ever spent in all
her life. The delay was interminable. The minutes appeared to be like
hours, the hours like days. Having to wait patiently for what one
desired so ardently was simply intolerable. She tried to divert her
mind by busying herself about the library, dusting his favorite books,
tidying his papers, but constantly came back the thoughts that filled
her with uneasiness, a vague, undefinable alarm. Was he all right?
At last the great day arrived. A Western Union telegram announced that
the _Adriatic_ would dock at 2 o'clock. Long before that time, Ray,
unable to restrain her impatience, was on her way down town,
accompanied by Mr. Steell, while Helen, her face a little paler than
usual, her heart beating a little faster, sat in the great recessed
window of the library, and waited for the arrival of the loved one.
Anxiously, impatiently, she watched the hands of the clock move round.
How exasperatingly slow it was: how indifferent it seemed to her
happiness! If the ship docked at two they could hardly arrive at the
house until four. It would take at least two hours to get through the
customs. Oh, would the moment never come when she would see his dear
face and clasp him in her arms?
It was nearly half past two when suddenly the front door bell rang.
Her heart leaping to her mouth, she rushed to the top of the stairs.
It was only Mr. Parker, who had dropped in on the chance of finding his
associate already arrived.
To-day the president of the Americo-African Mining Company was in the
highest spirits. Everything had gone according to his expectations.
Kenneth was home with the big diamonds safe in his possession. The
directors could not fail to give him (Parker) credit for his sagacity
and enterprise. The stocks of the company would soar above par.
Fortune was smiling on them in no uncertain way. Was it a wonder he
was feeling in the best of humors?
"How do you know the diamonds are safe?" questioned Helen anxiously.
"In such a terrible panic as there must have been on that ship a man
thinks only of saving himself."
"Pshaw!" replied the president confidently. "I'm as sure of it as that
I'm here. It was understood that he was never to part with the stones
under any circumstances. They are in a belt he wears round his waist
next to his skin. If the diamonds were not here, Kenneth would not be
here. Knowing he is safe I am convinced that they are safe."
"Will you wait here until he comes?"
"No, I can't. There's a meeting of the directors this afternoon. I
must attend. I'll call him up on the telephone----"
"But you are coming to dinner this evening----"
"Yes, yes, of course." With a smile he added: "Now, don't get too
spoony when he comes, or else Ken will have no head for business."
"No fear," laughed Helen. "We are too long married for that."
"Well, good-bye. I'll see you later."
The president took his hat and turned to go. As he reached the door he
turned round.
"By the bye, have you seen Signor Keralio lately?"
Helen's face grew more serious.
"No--Signor Keralio does not call here any more-at my request."
The president gave a low, expressive whistle. Holding out his hand he
said:
"Got his walking papers, eh? Well, I guess if you don't like him he
isn't much good. I never did care for the look of him."
"Why did you ask?" she inquired.
"I was just curious--that's all. He's a persistent, uncomfortable kind
of man. I don't like his face. It's a face I wouldn't trust----"
"That's why he's not coming here any more," she replied calmly. "He
forgot himself and that was the end----"
The president turned to go.
"Well, good-bye. Ken will be here soon."
"Good-bye."
He went away, and once more Helen resumed her lonely vigil at the
library window, straining her ears to catch the direction of every
passing car, catching her breath with suspense as each pedestrian came
into view. They could not be much longer. She wondered if he had
missed her as much as she had him. No, men do not feel these things in
the way women do. They are too busy--their minds too much preoccupied
with their work. The turmoil of affairs absorbed their attention.