The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure
not his idea that you set fire to ze ship? And who set fire to ze
ship, _s'il vous plait_, when you refused? Who but your very humble
servant. And a hard, dangerous job, it was, too--catch me ever wanting
to do it again!"
"Not half so bad as mine. He put up a terrible fight before I threw
him overboard."
"Who--monsieur?"
"Yes--he fought like a wildcat, and he was fast getting the best of me,
when I managed to give him a rap on the head. That quieted him, and
over he went." With an exclamation of disgust, he added: "It was a
d----d nasty job. I'm sorry I ever went into it----"
"Sorry--you fool? _Sapristi_! Just think of this wonderful
opportunity. You have ze keys to his vaults, you have control of his
bank accounts." Lowering his voice, and, with a significant leer on
his face, he added "and you have--his wife!"
Handsome grinned, and the valet went on:
"_Precisement_! Madame is cold and haughty, like all zese American
women. It's not exactly my taste, but she's pretty and dainty, and----"
"Who are all these other people," interrupted the miner, "that man
Steell----"
"Yes, that is so. You must know everyone. You must make a study of
each, so as to avoid making bad breaks. Monsieur Steell is a lawyer.
He's in love with madame's sister, Miss Ray. You've known him all your
life, went to school with him, and all that sort of thing. Say 'yes'
to everything he says. That's your cue at present. Talk as little as
you can, and agree with everybody. The man you must talk with most is
Monsieur Parker. He is president of the mining company. Happily he's
rather shortsighted, so he won't notice anything. He's the man to whom
you'll have to explain ze loss of ze diamonds. He'll be here to-night
for dinner, so you'd better get your story ready."
"What can I say?"
"Say that in ze panic your belt worked loose, you had to dive into ze
water. When you were dragged into ze lifeboat the belt was gone, do
you understand?"
"Yes--but will they believe it?"
"They must believe it. There'll be an awful fuss, of course, but
they'll get over it. No suspicion can attach to you."
"He's coming to-night--this man Parker?"
"Yes, to-night. He'll be here for dinner. He----"
Before the valet could complete the sentence there was a knock on the
door and Helen outside called out:
"May I come in?"
Instantly the valet jumped up and assumed once more his deferential
demeanor. The gambler hurriedly shut the bureau drawers and put on the
blue spectacles.
The door opened and Helen entered.
Alert as the Frenchman was, he was not quick enough to quite conceal
from the wife that his present obsequious manner had been suddenly
assumed for her benefit directly she had entered the room. She had
overheard voices, as she reached the landing, and the abrupt manner in
which these sounds had ceased was not entirely natural. It had also
seemed to her that the valet's tone had had a ring of familiarity about
it which she had never known it to have before. Could it be possible
that they were discussing matters which were to be kept from her? If
so, her husband already had secrets in which not she but his valet
shared. She recalled Keralio's cynical smile, as he had whispered:
"Husbands only tell their wives half." Perhaps he had spoken the
truth. Perhaps at this very moment she was degraded, insulted in her
womanhood by a man who was secretly unloyal to her. The very thought
went through her like a knife-thrust. All her life, every hour she had
devoted to her husband. Even now she did not like to even harbor a
shade of distrust, but his strange behavior since his return, this
earnest conversation behind closed doors with a menial she despised and
distrusted--all this could not but add to her anxiety. Calmly, she
asked:
"Have you finished with Francois, dear? We need him downstairs."
The valet himself answered the question:
"_Oui_, madame. I was just coming."
Bowing politely, he turned on his heel, and, with a significant glance
at Handsome, which his mistress did not notice, he left the room.
Helen glanced at the bed, which was undisturbed. Surprised, she
exclaimed:
"Why, I thought you were going to lie down!"
He shook his head. Shifting uneasily on his feet, and, without looking
up, he answered:
"No--I can't sleep. I'm too nervous. I'll sleep to-night."
Advancing farther into the room she went up him and put her arm
affectionately round him. Sympathetically she said:
"You'll feel better in a few days, dear. Just rest and take things
easy. I won't hear of your going to the office for a week at least.
All the business you and Mr. Parker have you can transact here. By the
way, dear, you haven't even mentioned the most important thing of
all--have you brought back the diamonds?"
Instead of replying at once to her question, he turned quickly and
pulled down the blind.
"You don't mind, do you?" he said. "The light hurts my eyes."
"Of course not," she replied. Sitting down near him she went on: "Tell
me--have you got the diamonds? How beautiful they must be! How I
should love to see them!"
When finally he turned and confronted her she could see his face only
indistinctly, as the drawing of the blind had left the room almost in
darkness. His voice was strained and tense as he replied huskily:
"I have not got the diamonds!"
Helen almost started from her seat.
"You have not got them!" she exclaimed. "Where are they, Ken?"
"They are lost!"
"Lost?" she echoed, stupefied.
"Yes--lost."
"Oh, how terrible!" she faltered.
This, then, was the secret of his strange manner, his depression and
nervousness. He had lost the diamonds. He had returned home to
announce to the eagerly awaiting stockholders that over a million
dollars' worth of property had suddenly been swept away. His feeling
of personal responsibility must have been awful. No wonder he was not
himself. It was enough to unnerve any man. Of course he was not to
blame, but the world is so merciless. He would have to bear the
censure, even when he was perfectly innocent. How she regretted that
he had ever undertaken so heavy a responsibility. Timidly, not wishing
to embarrass or annoy him, she said:
"How did it happen, dear?"
For a moment he made no answer, but just sat and stared at her. What
little light entered between the shade and the window frame fell full
on her face, lighting up the fine profile, the delicately chiseled
mouth, throwing off golden glints from her artistically arranged hair.
From her face his eyes wandered greedily down to her snow-white neck,
her slender, graceful figure, her beautifully molded arms. Certainly,
he mused to himself, his brother was an epicure in love. This woman
was dainty enough to tempt a saint.
"How did it happen?" she asked again.
"It was in the first rush from the burning ship," he said hoarsely. "I
was asleep when the fire broke out. It happened at two o'clock in the
morning. The diamonds were in the belt which each night I unfastened
and put under my pillow. It was more comfortable to do that than to
wear it. When the first alarm came I forgot everything--except my own
safety. I rushed pell-mell on deck. It was a nasty night. We didn't
know where we were, or how grave the situation was. Outside the wind
was howling furiously, the siren was blowing dismally, the
panic-stricken passengers and sailors were fighting like wildcats. I
lost my head along with the rest. I had reached the lifeboat when
suddenly I remembered the belt. I felt at my waist. It was not there.
I remembered I had left it under the pillow. I was horror-stricken.
Great beads of perspiration broke from every pore. The people were
fighting to get into the boat; I fought to get out and back to my
stateroom. Suddenly someone knocked me on the head. I lost
consciousness. When I came to we were miles away from the wreck,
drifting on the ocean in an open boat, and the _Abyssinia_ was nowhere
to be seen."
Helen made an exclamation of sympathy.
"Poor soul--how terrible you must have felt! Thank God, you escaped
with your life! We ought to feel grateful for that. Suppose I had
been compelled to tell Mary that you were drowned. It would have
killed her--you know that. Do you remember what you told her when you
went away?"
He stared at her, not understanding.
"Told who?" he said cautiously.
"Mary."
"Oh, yes--Mary--of course--you mean your sister----"
Helen looked at him in amazement, then in alarm. Could the wreck have
affected his mind? Laughingly she retorted:
"Ray? Of course not. How foolish you are, Kenneth. Don't you
remember that your old nurse came to see you before you sailed?"
He nodded and coughed uneasily, moving restlessly about in his chair,
as if to hide his embarrassment. These questions were decidedly
unpleasant. Inwardly he wished Francois was present to help him out.
"Mary? Oh, yes, I remember--of course--of course----"
The look of anxiety in the young woman's face deepened. His memory
failed him completely. Changing the subject she said quickly:
"There's something else I wish to mention to you, dear. It is about
Signor Keralio----"
He started quickly to his feet. How came his brother's wife to know
the name of the arch-plotter, the man who had sentenced her own husband
to death? Was it possible that she knew more? Was she aware of his
real identity? Was her present amiability of manner merely simulated?
Was she waiting her time before calling in the police and exposing him
as an impostor?
"Keralio?" he echoed hoarsely. "What about Keralio?" Making a step
forward he exclaimed savagely: "Has he squealed? Is the game up? He's
to blame, not I!"
Impulsively, instinctively, Helen sprang from her chair and fell back
with a startled exclamation. Now thoroughly alarmed, more than ever
convinced that the shipwreck had affected his brain, her one solicitude
was to keep him quiet until she could get a doctor. Soothingly she
said:
"Of course, dear; of course. We won't speak of Signor Keralio now.
He's not worth discussing anyhow."
He watched her closely for a moment, as if trying to see if she were
deceiving him, but her face was frank and serene. Suddenly, taking
hold of her hand, which she abandoned willingly enough in his, he
murmured:
"You mustn't mind what I say. I'll soon be all right. I'm a bit mixed
up. My mind's been queer ever since that awful night."
"Perhaps you would prefer if we had no one to dinner. I could easily
give some excuse and put them all off."
His first impulse was to promptly accept this suggestion, yet what was
the good? If he did not meet them to-day he must do so to-morrow. It
was best to get it over with. The quicker he got to know the people
the easier it would be for him. If he seemed to avoid meeting them, it
might only arouse suspicion. Shaking his head, he said:
"No, dear. That's all right. I'm glad they're coming. It will liven
things up."
Helen's face brightened. It was the first cheerful remark he had made.
"That's what I think. You must forget what you have gone through.
After all it's not so bad, but it might be a lot worse. Mr. Parker
will feel badly about the stones, of course, because he had counted on
making capital out of the advertising they would receive. But who
knows? Perhaps it's all for the best. They may find other stones even
more valuable."
A sudden knock at the door interrupted them.
"Come in," called out Helen.
The maid appeared.
"Mr. Parker is downstairs, m'm."
"Good gracious! Here already for dinner. What time is it?"
"Seven o'clock, m'm."
"All right. I'll be down immediately."
The girl went away and Helen turned to her companion.