The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure
"Now, hurry, dear, won't you? Dinner is ready. The guests are
arriving. Dress quickly and come down."
He still held her hand.
"You're not angry with me?" he whispered.
"Why should I be angry?"
"Because of the diamonds."
"No, indeed--it was you I wanted, not the diamonds."
Drawing her to him, he kissed her. But her lips were cold. There was
no response to his ardor. She could not herself have explained why.
She felt no inclination to respond to his caresses, which at any other
time she would have returned with warmth. With a slight shade of
impatience she broke away.
"We have no time for that now, Kenneth. Our guests are waiting."
"That's right," he replied, with a smile that did not escape her.
"We've no time now. But the night is still before us."
"Will you come soon?"
"Yes--I'll be right down."
CHAPTER XIV
Once more the Traynor residence was filled with the sounds of mirth and
revelry.
From cellar to attic the old mansion was ablaze with light. The large
dining-room, decorated with flowers and plants, wore a festive air, and
the long table in the center literally groaned under its burden of fine
linen, crystal, and silver.
The dinner, now drawing to a close, had been a huge success in every
way, and, with the serving of the _demi-tasse_, the guests sat back in
their chairs, feeling that sense of gluttony satisfied which only a
perfect dinner can impart. The rarest wines, the richest foods--Helen
had spared no expense to make the affair worthy the occasion.
As Mr. Parker sat back and with deliberation lit the big black Corona,
which his host had given him, he felt as much at ease as can a man who
has dined well and knows that his affairs are prospering beyond all
expectations, and, as his eyes half closed, he listened dreamily while
his host, for the hundredth time, told yarns of the diamond fields, he
silently congratulated himself on his astuteness in having employed so
successful a messenger. He had not yet had an opportunity to ask any
questions about the diamonds. He had his own reasons for not wanting
those present to learn too much of his plans. There would be plenty of
time when he could get the vice-president alone. So he just sat back
and puffed his cigar, while around him went on the hum of conversation,
punctuated here and there with bursts of laughter.
Considering his short stay at the diamond mines it was astonishing how
well stocked their host was with stories. To hear him talk one might
have thought he had been a miner all his life. Stimulated by copious
draughts of champagne, which he contrived to make flow like water, he
was highly interesting, and his listeners, greatly interested, hung on
to every word.
"It must be a terrible life!" said Steell, as he lit another cigar.
The host emptied his glass and again refilled it before he answered:
"It's a life of a dog--not of a human being. The toil is incessant,
the profit doubtful. You starve to death: good food is unprocurable
save at prohibitive prices. One sleeps practically in the open, save
for such rude shelter as each man can make for himself. The flies are
a pest and constant source of danger. The water is abominable."
"You like champagne better, eh?" laughed Ray.
The gambler had already drunk more than was good for him, and, raising
his glass in a mock toast, began to hum the first lines of a familiar
camp ditty:
"_La femme qui sait me plaire
C'est la petite veuve Clicquot._"
"Is there much stealing of diamonds by the miners?" demanded Mr. Parker.
Handsome nodded.
"Lots of it. They have to watch 'em all the time. They resort to all
kinds of tricks to conceal stones they find. They used to swallow
them, but when they were forced to take powerful emetics and other
drugs, they soon got tired of that game. They also try to smuggle them
across the border line. One detective, who had been for months on the
trail of a well-to-do smuggler, was badly stung. The man invited him
to go shooting, and kindly furnished guns and cartridges. The
unsuspecting policeman carried the cartridges across the border, never
dreaming that each one was filled with diamonds."
Ray clapped her hands.
"Oh, what a clever idea!"
The host nodded approvingly.
"That's what I thought. Any man as smart as that deserved to get away
with it."
Mr. Parker protested.
"Rogues are always smart!" he exclaimed.
"Until they're caught," laughed Dick Reynolds. "Then they don't think
they're so smart."
Mr. Steell nodded approval.
"I know something about that," said the lawyer. "A crook is never
really clever. He always leaves some loophole which leads to
detection. He thinks he is secure, that his disguise is impenetrable,
but there is always someone watching him, closely observing his every
move. And, the first thing he knows, he has walked into a trap, the
handcuffs are snapped, and the electric chair looms grimly before
him----"
_Crash_!
All looked up to the end of the table, where their host had broken a
glass. In the act of raising the champagne to his lips the glass had
slipped and broken into a thousand pieces. Helen, frightened, started
from her seat.
"Are you hurt, dear?" she asked. "There is blood on your hand."
"No--no, it's nothing. I cut myself with a bit of glass. It's
nothing."
Ray was eager for more anecdotes.
"Do tell us more, Kenneth," she exclaimed, interrupting her chat with
her left-hand neighbor.
"Give him a breathing spell," laughed Dick. "We've kept him at it ever
since the dinner began."
Handsome, his face pale, his hand trembling, filled another glass with
the foaming golden wine, and drained it at a draught. What the lawyer
just said had been somewhat of a shock. Was there more meaning in it
than appeared in the chance words? He eyed Steell narrowly, when he
was not looking, but the lawyer's face was inscrutable. Again he
filled his glass and again emptied it.
That her husband had been drinking heavily all evening had not escaped
Helen's attention, and it worried her. Nudging her sister she
whispered:
"Ken's drinking more than is good for him. He never used to drink like
that."
At that moment, the host looked up and caught Helen's eye. Raising his
glass he offered a toast:
"Here's to the prettiest, the sweetest, the most desirable little woman
in the world! Gentlemen and ladies--my wife!"
They all drank except Helen who, confused and annoyed, tried to turn it
off with a laugh.
Noticing her embarrassment, Ray made a signal to Mr. Steell and they
both rose from the table. Helen and Dick quickly followed their
example and the hostess led the way into the drawing-room, leaving
Handsome and Mr. Parker alone to their cigars.
The president of the Americo-African Mining Company was not sorry of
the opportunity which this tete-a-tete afforded for a quiet business
talk.
"By the way, old man," he began, "we haven't had a chance to talk
business yet. You've got the diamonds, of course."
His host was silent. Mr. Parker thought he had not heard. A little
louder he repeated:
"You've got the diamonds?"
Still no answer. The president began to get uneasy. Could anything be
wrong or was his friend drunk? He had noticed that he had been
drinking heavily--something he had never known Kenneth Traynor do.
With some impatience he said sharply: "What's the matter, Kenneth?
Wake up, old man. I asked you a question. Can't you answer?"
Handsome brought his fist down on the table with a bang that made the
glasses dance.
"D---- it!" he exclaimed angrily. "Can't a man be left alone in his
own house for a few minutes without bothering him with business?"
This outburst was so utterly unexpected that Mr. Parker, taken entirely
by surprise, fell back in his chair and stared at his host in
amazement. Never before had he known his old friend and partner to act
in this strange way. Could anything be amiss? Now he came to think of
it, he had noticed a great change in his associate directly he saw him.
He had seemed to lack his customary cordiality and frankness. He
appeared moody and morose, as if he had on his mind some weighty
responsibility he was unwilling to share. Evidently there was nothing
to be gained by displaying impatience, so, in more conciliatory tones,
he asked:
"That's all right, my boy. If you don't care to talk shop to-night, we
won't. I didn't want to hurry you. I was curious, that's all. I have
scarcely been able to curb my impatience. You understand what it means
to us. Why, the very announcement that we have the diamonds safe here
in New York, will be enough to send the company's stock up twenty
points." Lowering his voice and bending over he added confidentially:
"I don't mind telling you that I've been buying for my own account all
the cheap stock I could put my hands on. As to the stockholders,
they're simply wild with impatience to see the big stones. But we
won't talk any more about it to-night. We'll wait till to-morrow."
Handsome, his face almost livid, leaned over the table. Hoarsely, he
replied:
"It's no use waiting till to-morrow. All that's to be told can be told
now. I haven't got the diamonds!"
For a moment Mr. Parker did not realize what the other man was saying.
Thinking he had not heard right he asked:
"What did you say?"
"I have not got the diamonds!"
The president started from his seat. His face pale as death, his hand
shaking as stricken with palsy, he almost shouted:
"You have not got the diamonds! Then where in God's name are they?"
"At the bottom of the ocean!"
The senior partner dropped back in his chair, white as death. Then
this was the outcome of all his hopes, all his planning. Faintly he
gasped:
"Why didn't you tell me so before?"
"I had no opportunity. I didn't want to cable such news. It might
have caused a slump in the shares. I could not let you know before.
This is the first time I've seen you alone."
The president said no more. The lines about his mouth tightened and
the expression of his face underwent a change. He uttered not a word,
but just sat there, his eyes fixed steadily on his companion, who
continued to fill his glass with champagne. Cornelius Winthrop Parker
was not a man to be easily deceived. He had too much experience of the
world for that. All his life he had been reading men and what he heard
now in the tone of his host's voice convinced him that he was lying.
That, in itself, was sufficient of a shock. To find Kenneth
Traynor--the soul of integrity and honor--deliberately betraying a
trust of such importance hurt him almost as much as the loss of the
gems. That they had gone down with the _Abyssinia_ he did not for a
moment believe. It was more likely that they had been sold--possibly
to make good Wall Street losses. Talk of big stock deals in which
Traynor had been mixed up had reached his ear before today, and more
recently this gossip had become more insistent. Kenneth was
interested, said rumor, in pool operations involving millions. The
recent sudden slump had found him unprepared. Ruin threatened him and
to save himself he had succumbed to temptation. This, at least, was
the theory which the President's alert brain rapidly evolved as he sat
watching the man in front of him. Perhaps all was not yet lost. If
the stones had not yet been disposed of, an effort might still be made
to recover them and at the same time save Traynor and his young wife
from the disgrace that such a grave scandal would entail. The first
thing necessary was to keep cool, show no concern and disarm suspicion
by pretending to accept the loss as irreparable. Then, at the first
opportunity, he would take Wilbur Steell into his confidence. That