The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure
The clock struck the three-quarters, and the reverberations of the
chimes had not entirely died away, when through the partly opened
window came the sound of a taxicab suddenly stopping in front of the
door.
At last he had come! It was surely Kenneth. Her bosom heaving with
suppressed excitement she ran to the stairs and was already in the
lower hall before the maid had answered the bell. Quickly she threw
open the door, eager to throw herself in the traveler's arms. A tall
shadow darkened the doorway. It was Francois, the French valet.
Helen fell back in dismay.
"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed, looking over his shoulder to see if
Kenneth were following. "Where is your master?"
A curious expression, half-defiant, half-cunning, came over the
servant's face, as he replied:
"Monsieur coming. He sent me ahead with light baggage. He detained at
customs."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, disappointed. "When will he be here?"
"He come presently--perhaps quarter of an hour."
"How is your master?"
"He very well, except his eyes--they bother him a leetle."
Helen stared at him in alarm.
"His eyes," she exclaimed. "What is the matter with his eyes?"
The valet avoided her direct gaze, and, shifting uneasily on his feet,
began to fuss with the leather bags he was carrying. Awkwardly he said:
"Didn't madame hear?"
"Hear what?" she gasped, now thoroughly alarmed.
The man put out his hand deprecatingly.
"Oh, it's nothing to make madame afraid. It will soon be all right. I
assure madame----"
"But tell me what it is, will you?" she interrupted impatiently.
"Don't have so much to say--tell me what it is----"
"It was when the ship caught fire, madame. We were running to ze
life-boat, monsieur and me, when suddenly----"
"Well--what?" she almost shouted, in agony of suspense.
"Monsieur tripped over a coil of rope and fell----"
Almost unconscious in her excitement of what she was doing Helen laid
her hand on the man's arm. Terror-stricken she cried:
"He didn't hurt himself seriously, did he?"
The valet shook his head.
"No, madame--not seriously. He struck his head against a chair and
just graze ze eye. It is nothing serious, I assure madame. The doctor
says that if he wears blue spectacles for few months he will be all
right."
"Oh, he wears blue spectacles, does he?"
"Yes, madame, he must. Ze eye is inflamed and cannot stand ze strong
light."
"Poor Kenneth!" she murmured, half-aloud. "I shall hardly know him in
blue spectacles."
The valet, who had been watching her like a hawk out of his
half-closed, sleepy-looking eyes, overheard the remark. Quickly he
said:
"Of course, madame must expect to find monsieur a little changed. What
we went through was _epouvantable_, something awful. We just escaped
with our lives. For days monsieur was so nervous he was hardly able to
speak a word. Even now he stops at times----"
Helen looked at him in wonder.
"'He stops!' What do you mean?"
The valet turned away, and for a moment was silent. Then, as if making
a great effort, he turned and said:
"Madame will pardon me, but she must be brave and not show monsieur she
notices any change. Ze doctor said it was a terrible shock to his
nervous system--that fire. Monsieur has not been ze same since, _pas
du tout_ ze same. Ze doctor he says that these symptoms will all
disappear once he gets home and has a good rest. It is only ze shock,
I assure madame."
Helen listened appalled, her face growing whiter each moment, her lips
trembling. He had met with an accident, then, after all! Her instinct
had spoken truly. Her darling was ill. That explained his long
silence. He had been too ill to write. He had gone through a terrible
shock and he had come home ill, very ill, quite changed. Her voice
faltering she said:
"What are the symptoms?"
"Monsieur's memory is so bad, madame. He forgets. Only to-day, as ze
ship came up ze harbor, I ask monsieur if he expect madame to meet us
at ze dock. _C'est vraiment incroyable_! He turned to me, with a look
of ze greatest surprise, and asked: 'Who ze devil is madame?'"
"What! Didn't he seem to remember me, even?" A look of distress came
over her face.
The valet shook his head.
"Non, madame." Quickly he added: "But it is nothing. It is only
temporary."
"Didn't he know my sister and Mr. Steell? Didn't they greet him at the
dock?"
"Yes, madame. They spoke to him and he spoke to them. But he was not
himself. They seemed surprised. They will tell madame."
Helen fell back, sick and faint. Why had she not known this before?
She would have gone down to meet him, thrown herself weeping into his
arms. He would have known her then--who better than he would recognize
that perfume he loved so well? He would have taken her in his strong
arms and kissed her passionately. If he was not himself it was because
he was ill. The shock had affected his memory! Poor darling husband,
he must be well nursed. A few days of her devoted care and he would be
all right again. Of course, it was nothing serious. Kenneth had led
too clean and wholesome a life for anything grave to be the matter. If
only he would come! God grant that he return to her as he went away!
As the unspoken prayer died away on her lips, there was the chugging of
an automobile stopping suddenly at the curb.
"_Les voici_!" cried Francois, dropping into his native tongue in his
excitement.
He threw open the wide doors and the next instant Ray ran up the steps.
Helen, weak and dizzy from nervous tension, feeling as if she were
about to faint, met her on the threshold.
"Kenneth!" she gasped. "Is he all right?"
"Certainly--he's fine. He's a little tired and nervous after the long
journey, and the blue spectacles he wears make him look different, but
he's all right."
The wife looked searchingly, eagerly at the young girl's face, as if
seeking to read there what she dreaded to ask, and it seemed to her
that the customary ring of sincerity was lacking in her sister's voice.
"Where is he--why isn't he with you?'
"Here he is now--don't you see him?"
Helen looked out. There came the tall, familiar figure she knew so
well, the square shoulders, the thick bushy hair, with its single white
lock so strangely isolated among the brown. Her heart fell as she saw
the blue glasses. They veiled from her view those dear blue eyes, so
kind and true. They made him look different. But what did she care as
long as he had come home to her? Even with the horrid glasses, that
dear form she would know in a thousand!
Slowly he came up the long flight of stone steps, weighted down by
traveling rugs and handbag, both of which he refused to surrender to
the obsequious Francois. Eagerly she rushed down the steps to meet
him, her eyes half-closed, ready to swoon from excitement and joy.
Nothing was said. He opened his arms. She put up her mouth, tenderly,
submissively. For a moment he seemed to hesitate. He held her tight
in his embrace, and just looked down at her. Then, as he felt the
warmth of her soft, yielding body next to his, and saw the partly
opened mouth, ready to receive his kiss, he bent down and fastened his
lips on hers.
CHAPTER XII
For one blissful, ecstatic moment Helen lay tight in his embrace,
nestling against the breast of the one being she loved better than
anyone else in the world, responding with involuntary vibrations of her
own body to the gust of fiery passion that swept his. But only for a
moment. The next instant she had torn herself violently free, and was
gazing, wonderingly, fearfully, up into his face, trying to penetrate
those glasses which veiled, as it were, the windows of his soul. Why
she broke away so abruptly from his embrace she could not herself have
explained. Something within her, some instinct to which her reason was
unable to give a name, made her body revolt against the unusual ardor
of the caress. Strange! Never before had she felt so embarrassed at
Kenneth's demonstrations of affection.
"How are you, dear?" she murmured, when at last she could find words.
She had not yet heard the sound of his beloved voice, and when at last
he answered her it seemed to her ears only like an echo of its former
self, so exhausted and wearied was he by what he had gone through.
"Very tired, sweetheart," he replied huskily. "I shall need a long
rest."
She led the way into the house and up the stairs, where everything had
been so elaborately prepared for his welcome. In the bedroom she
pointed with pride to the real Valenciennes lace coverlet put on in his
honor, and showed him the dressing-gown and slippers so lovingly laid
out. He looked at everything, but made no comment. She half expected
a few words of praise, but none were forthcoming. While affectionately
demonstrative he was unusually reticent. She wondered what worry he
could have on his mind to make him act so strangely and suddenly
Keralio's words of warning came to her mind. Was there a side to his
life of which she knew nothing? Were his thoughts elsewhere, even
while he was with her? Quickly there came a look of dismay and
anxiety, which he was not slow to notice. Instantly on his guard, he
murmured in a low tone:
"Forgive me, dear, I can't talk now. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my
eyes open."
Instantly her apprehension was forgotten in her desire to make him
comfortable.
"That's right, dear. You must be dead with fatigue. You'll take a
nice nap and when you wake up it will be time for dinner. I've planned
a nice little party to celebrate your return--only a few intimates--Mr.
Parker is coming, and Wilbur Steell, and a young man named Dick
Reynolds, an acquaintance of Wilbur's. You won't mind such old
friends, will you?"
He shook his head.
"No, indeed. I'm very tired, now, but I'll be all right in a few
minutes."
"Of course you will," she smiled, as she removed the handsome lace
coverlet from the bed. "No one will disturb you. My darling hubbie
can sleep as sound as a top, and, when he wakes, we'll talk a terrible
lot, won't we?" Looking up roguishly, as she smoothed his pillow for
him, she added shyly: "There are two pillows here now. There has been
only one while you were away----"
For the first time he seemed to evince interest in what she was saying.
His eyes flashed behind the blue spectacles, and his hands trembled, as
he quickly made a step forward and put his arm round her waist.
"There'll always be two in the future, won't there?" he asked hoarsely.
"Yes, of course there will," she laughed,
"To-night?" he insisted.
"Yes, of course," she said, her color heightening slightly under the
persistency of his gaze. What a foolish question! Changing the topic
she added, with a laugh: "Now, take your coat off, like a good boy, and
go to sleep. I'll go down and keep the house quiet. When it's time to
get up, I'll come back."
"Don't go yet," he murmured, looking at her ardently. Taking her hand
caressingly he tried to lead her to the sofa. "Sit down here. I won't
sleep yet. Let us talk. I have so much to say."
Firmly Helen withdrew from his embrace.
"No, no; I won't stay a moment," she said decisively. "Not now. You
must behave yourself. We'll talk all you want to to-night. But not
now. You are very tired. The sleep will do you good. Now be a good
boy--go to bed."
He tried to intercept her before she reached the door, but she was too
quick for him. She went out and was about to close the door behind her
when he called out:
"Please send Francois to me."
She nodded.
"Yes, dear, I will. Of course you need him. Why didn't I think of it
before?"
She closed the door and went downstairs. It was hard to believe that