The World Masters
Page 19
CHAPTER XVIII
Cowes week was over, and the house party at Orrel Court had broken up.Madame de Bourbon had yielded to her niece's earnest persuasions, andconsented to become a guest on the _Nadine_. Count Valdemar and Sophiehad sailed on board the _Vlodoya_, _en route_ for the Baltic andPetersburg. The news which Hardress had told to the marquise andChrysie on the lawn at Cowes had duly leaked out into the channels ofthe Press, and had been condensed and expanded, embroidered andcommented upon with the usual luxuriant facility of the journalisticimagination.
Meanwhile the _Times_ had published a lengthy and weighty communicationfrom M. de Blowitz, which, while proving many wrong and some right,pointed unmistakably to a very grave state of affairs in Western andCentral Europe. The communication also hinted, indirectly butunmistakably, at other developments which might possibly produceresults as astounding as they would be unexpected.
"De Blowitz has somehow managed to get on to the secret of those twoso-called Polar expeditions," said Hardress to his father at breakfaston the morning before the _Nadine_ was to sail.
The marquise and Madame de Bourbon were having breakfast in their ownroom that morning else he would not have said this. Only Chrysie andher father were at the table. "He's a wonderful fellow for gettinghold of news. That allusion to events proceeding in a far-distantportion of the globe is distinctly significant."
"That's so," said Clifford Vandel, "and I reckon that, under thecircumstances, the sooner we respond personally to Doctor Lamson'stelegram the better it will be for all immediately concerned. To tellyou the square truth, Lord Orrel," he went on, looking up from hisplate, "I don't quite like the turn things seem to be takinggenerally."
"Why, what do you mean, my dear Vandel?" asked his lordship; "you'venot heard anything unpleasant, have you?"
"I've heard something, and I've seen a bit more," he replied. "I don'twant to speak disrespectfully of any of your guests, but I'm bound tosay I don't altogether like the cordiality that's seemed to work upduring the last few days between our Russian friends and thedistinguished lady who is going to honour us by her company across theAtlantic."
"Oh, come now, Mr Vandel," interrupted Hardress, in a tone which MissChrysie did not exactly appreciate, "surely you're not going to accusethe marquise, the daughter of my father's old friend, of anything likeplotting and scheming with Russia."
"I'm not making any accusations, viscount; I'm just trying to put twoand two together and make four of them. We know that if DoctorFargeau's discovery had not fallen into our hands, or, I should saythat if it had not been thrown into our hands by the stupidity of theFrench government, this young lady's father would most likely havebecome king of France instead of dying, of what we will call mentalshock, down at Elsenau; and we haven't yet got on to whether she knowsanything or nothing about the scheme yet."
"Anyhow, she was in Paris at the time when this Fargeau, the son ofthe man whose remains we picked up, had his interviews with GeneralDucros, and these Russians were there at the same time. I guess thatmakes about two. Right after that France and Russia decide to send twoPolar expeditions, both by the same route--the only one on this sidethat leads to the Storage Works--and both about timed to get therewhen we are ready to spring our little scheme on the world. I reckonthat makes two more; and if you put them together you'll get aboutfour."
"I should say five, poppa," exclaimed Miss Chrysie, putting herfish-knife down somewhat sharply on her plate. "It strikes me thewhole thing's timed to fix in with this war that they're talkingabout. France and Russia want to get hold of the works when the warstarts. If they do they'll just run creation and halve the worldbetween them; and I reckon that makes five. What do you think,viscount?" she went on, raising her eyes and looking straight at himacross the table.
"I agree entirely with Mr Vandel that we ought to get across theAtlantic as quickly as we can," he replied, rather more deliberatelythan she liked. "I hope, and still believe, that your suspicions arewithout foundation, but, at the same time, of course, we can't affordto take any risks in a matter like this; and as everything is ready,and as it is always wise to do the unexpected in matters like this,the _Nadine_ shall start to-night instead of to-morrow morning. Thatwill give us thirteen to fifteen hours' start; and if, as you seem tothink, our friends are the enemy, it may help somewhat to disconcerttheir plans. But, under any circumstances, it won't do any harm."
"I think, Shafto, that's a very good idea," said Lord Orrel. "In viewof what is taking place in Europe and of Doctor Lamson's telegram, Ireally don't think we ought to lose an hour in getting across theAtlantic as quickly as possible. Of course, it is impossible for me toentertain suspicions of the character of people who have been myguests without the most absolute proof, but at any rate it isimpossible that anything could happen between here and Halifax, wherewe shall land Madame de Bourbon and the marquise. There we shall getmore definite news from Lamson, and the telegram will give us goodexcuse for leaving them there; but that, of course, will depend uponthe nature of the news that we get there. If there is anything reallyserious--well, we shall have to commit them to the care of theuniversal Cook, who will, of course, provide a special courier forthem, and say good-bye as politely as possible."
At this moment the door opened and Adelaide came in. Lord Orrel had asomewhat high-pitched voice, and as she was opening the door, in theslow, silent way which society approves, she distinctly heard his lastsentence.
"Ah," he continued, "here is the marquise herself. Ma'm'selle, we findthat the yacht is ready, and that there is no objection, unless youand Madame de Bourbon have any, to starting this afternoon instead ofto-morrow morning. Both Mr Vandel and myself have somewhat urgentaffairs on the other side of the Atlantic."
"My dear Lord Orrel," replied Adelaide, with a radiant smile, "praysay nothing more; the arrangement will suit my aunt and myselfperfectly--and, after all, we are at your service. It is you who areaccommodating us. For my part, I think it is always pleasant the firstnight at sea, especially in summer. One wakes up the next morning tofind the sun shining, and the water dancing, and the strong saltbreeze ready to give one a most glorious appetite for breakfast. Whatmore would you? The packing, as you call it, is done. For us it isonly a question of putting our hats on and going on board--and, voila,c'est fait."
She said this with such a delightful air of insouciance, and with sucha radiant smile, that Miss Chrysie felt that she could have shot herthere and then. Under the circumstances, she just finished her coffeeand said:
"Well, Olive, if that's so, I reckon we'd better go and get fixed uptoo. I quite agree with the marquise that it's better to start out atnight on a voyage and wake up nice and fresh next morning, especiallyif you don't eat too liberal a dinner before you start."
"Oh yes," said Lady Olive; "I can be quite ready by this afternoon ifyou can, and if it's anything like the lovely moonlight night it waslast night, we shall have a perfectly delicious run through the Solentand past the Needles."
"And along the coast," added Hardress; "the moonlight will last us abit farther than that. We shall be well away to Portland before youwant to go to bed I expect. The _Nadine's_ got to do her best thistime, and we've coaled up for a run across the Atlantic at twentyknots. That will be somewhat of an experience for you, marquise, willit not?"
"Yes, viscount," she said, with one of those smiles which Miss Chrysiehated so; "it is a very wonderful speed that, and of course it will bean experience."
"Then that's settled," said Lady Olive, rising, "we shall start thisevening. Now let us go and pack."
The _Nadine_, spick and span, and clean as a new pin, was lyingalongside the ocean quay at Southampton, her bunkers and half her holdcrammed with the finest steaming coal that money could buy, and thesteam whistling softly in her pipes.
Her second engineer, an exceedingly clever young fellow oftwenty-five, whose good-looking face was marred by a pair oftoo-closely-set greenish-blue eyes, was leaning on the rail a littleforward of the foremast, smoking
a pipe and gazing down the water witheyes that saw nothing material. Edward Williams was as good a marineengineer as ever went afloat, but unfortunately he was possessed bythe idea, too common among his class, that he possessed a creative andinventive genius as well as real cleverness in his profession.
He had invented what he considered to be improvement after improvementin marine machinery, and Lord Orrel had at first helped him generouslyto put them into practical form; but as he did not possess the genius,he believed he had, they had one after another failed to stand thetest of practice, and at length both Lord Orrel and his son had closedtheir pockets and given him to understand that he had better devotehimself to his profession and leave inventing alone. This produced theusual effect on such a mind as his. He forgot all that they had donefor him, and looked upon them as wealthy men whose selfishnessdeliberately barred his way to the fame and fortune which ought to behis.
Only a month before he had gone to Hardress with the plans of a newtype of submarine boat, which he, of course, firmly believed wouldrevolutionise naval warfare. It would only have cost a few hundredpounds to build a model and demonstrate the truth of his theory, butHardress had kindly but firmly refused to do it. This refusal hadsoured him utterly, and put him in exactly the frame of mind readiestto succumb to the temptation to commit the only crime of his life.
Sophie had heard something of this in conversations at the Court andon board the yacht, and she instantly divined that if she was to findan instrument to work out her scheme she would find it in thedisappointed inventor--and she was right.
Like every man who believes himself to be a genius, and is not, EdwardWilliams was intensely vain, and when the beautiful and brilliantcountess one day asked him to show her over the engines and explaintheir working he naturally felt intensely flattered. Then Sophie hadskilfully led the conversation to his own inventions, sympathised withhim very sweetly, and assured him that in Russia such genius as hiswould certainly not go unrecognised. "But these English," she said,"are always the last to accept new ideas or properly reward theirclever men."
After that he had been as wax in her skilful hands. She had even ledhim to believe she was not indifferent to him personally. After thisshe had infatuated him still further by giving him appointments insecluded parts of the Court grounds; and so she had gradually led upto the proposal which he had now definitely accepted.
For reasons of state, it was all-important that the _Nadine_ shouldnever reach America. Not the slightest harm was to come to anyone onboard her: they would simply be brought back and landed in France,free to get home as they pleased. All that was wanted was a delay of acouple of days or so. Therefore, if the engines of the _Nadine_ brokedown at a certain spot in the Atlantic, and remained helpless untilthe _Vlodoya_ overtook her, he was to receive five thousand pounds ingold and a lucrative dockyard appointment in Russia, which would givehim every opportunity of working out his inventions.
To such a man, embittered by disappointment and soured by a sense ofimaginary wrongs, such a dazzling temptation was irresistible; andthat was why Edward Williams was leaning over the rail of the _Nadine_a couple of hours before she was to start, dreaming dreams of revengeon those who had wronged him, and of fortune and fame among hiscountry's enemies.
The party from Orrel Court drove down to Southampton immediately afterlunch to enable the ladies to do a little final shopping before goingon board.
In the course of the afternoon Chrysie and Lady Olive went into thetelegraph office to send off a few farewell wires to friends. As theyentered, Miss Chrysie's quick eyes at once caught sight of Felice, themarquise's maid, leaning over one of the compartments. She touchedLady Olive's hand and nodded towards her, and said:
"I guess I'd like to see that telegram."
And then, in the most unprincipled fashion, she strolled along thecompartments as though she were looking for a form, stopped a momentand looked over the maid's shoulder. Then she came back and did itagain. Meanwhile the other compartments had been occupied; so she juststood about until Felice had finished, and then took her place.
As it happened, Felice had been compelled to use one of thoseadamantine post-office pencils which you have to almost dig throughthe paper before you can get a legible impression; consequently on thenext form on the pad there was a distinct tracing of several words.This Miss Chrysie tore off and appropriated. Then she wrote her ownmessage and went to the counter with it.
When they got out into the street Lady Olive said, a trifle frigidly:
"My dear Chrysie, don't you think you did a rather improper thing inthere? I distinctly saw you look over Felice's shoulder. You know,here, we consider a telegram as sacred as a letter."
"Why, certainly!" replied Chrysie, flushing a little at the rebuke:"and so we do over our side: but still, all's fair in--well--in loveand war, and I guess you won't think me quite so wicked when I tellyou who that telegram's addressed to."
"Really, Chrysie, I don't wish to know, and I don't think you ought toknow," said Lady Olive, still more stiffly.
"Well," replied Chrysie, defiantly, "I am sorry I riled you, but I doknow it; and honestly, Olive, it's what's you and I and all of usought to know."
At this Lady Olive's curiosity appealed very strongly to her sense ofthe proprieties, and she said more amiably:
"Do you really mean, Chrysie, that there's something serious init--that, for instance, it has anything to do with the works?"
"I don't know yet," said Chrysie, "but I've got a pretty good copy ofit in my satchel, thanks to those awful pencils they give you to usein British telegraph offices. Anyhow, it was addressed to CountValdemar, _Yacht Vlodoya_, Cherbourg; and Cherbourg's not on theway to the Baltic, is it? Let's go and have an ice and some cakessomewhere, so that I can read what is written."
"That's very strange," said Lady Olive, "and the Count professed to bein such a hurry to get back to Petersburg. What on earth can he bedoing at Cherbourg?"
"I reckon poppa and the viscount would give something to know that,too," said Chrysie, as they turned into a confectioner's. They orderedices, and Chrysie took the telegram form out of her satchel andunfolded it gingerly. Her pretty brows puckered over it for a fewmoments, as she slanted it this way and that to get the light on it.Then she put her elbows on the little marble table, and said in a lowtone:
"It's in French, and it tells the Count that the _Nadine_ startsthis evening instead of to-morrow morning. The last word is'Depechez,' and that's French for 'Make haste,' isn't it? Now, do youthink I was right in doing a very improper thing--which, of course, itwas?"
"I'm afraid you were, Chrysie," said Lady Olive. "It's certainly verymysterious. How is the telegram signed?"
"There isn't any signature," replied Chrysie. "Our friend's a bit toocute for that."
"What on earth do you mean, Chrysie?" said Lady Olive, with a note ofalarm in her voice. "What friend?"
Chrysie looked up and said, with a snap of her eyes: "What otherfriend than M'am'selle Felice's mistress--the noble Adelaide deConde?"
Lady Olive started. To her straightforward English sense of honour itseemed impossible that a woman so gently bred as Adelaide de Condecould accept her father's hospitality, and yet send such a message asthis to those who might before long be the enemies of his country.
"Chrysie," she said, "I could not believe that for a moment. It isutterly incredible that the marquise could be guilty of anything ofthe sort. I admit that it is very suspicious that the _Vlodoya_should be at Cherbourg instead of on her way to the Baltic, and thatAdelaide's maid should send such a message; but it seems to me muchmore likely that Felice is in the pay of these Russians, and that hermistress knows nothing about it."
"Well," said Chrysie, rising, "we shall see. Now I guess we'd betterbe getting down on board. I shall give this to the viscount, and hecan have a council of war on it."
"The viscount!" smiled Lady Olive, as they went out into the street."How very formal we are, Chrysie. Why don't you call him Shafto?"