CHAPTER XVIII
THE WATER FETE
"Roll along, roll along, O'er the waters so blue, We're afloat, we're afloat In our birch bark canoe,"
sang Grace's high sweet voice as their boat bobbed gayly up and downwith the little rippling waves of the lake.
"That is a pretty song, my dear child," exclaimed Miss Sallie Stuart,from a cushioned seat in the stern of the boat, "but you shouldsubstitute 'naphtha launch' for canoe. Nothing would induce me to ridein one."
"The Count de Sonde is going to be at the fete in a canoe," observedMaud Warren in the tone of one imparting a piece of valuableinformation. "He asked me to go with him, but Papa was unreasonable, asusual."
"In a canoe with that little foreigner!" cried Miss Sallie in amazement."Does he know how to paddle?"
"The count is an expert boatman," replied Maud stiffly. She had mixedsensations of fear and dislike for Miss Sallie, although fear was thestronger sentiment of the two.
"I imagine his swimming and his canoeing are about alike," said Ruthaside to Barbara; "just paddling in shallow water."
The "Automobile Girls" were busily engaged in decorating their launchfor the Venetian Fete, which was to take place that evening. The lakedotted with numbers of boats looked like an immense flower bed. Hundredsof craft of every land were anchored near the shore, each filled withgay parties of young people who were stringing up rows of Japaneselanterns, bunting and flags.
"There's not a boat on the lake that can compare with ours," criedMollie proudly, as she tacked the end of a festoon of small banners tothe awning-pole, while Barbara gave a finishing touch by crossing thesilk flags of the "Automobile Girls" on the bow.
"If only the lanterns don't catch fire this evening," said Miss Sallie.
"What a pessimist you are, Auntie, dearest!" exclaimed Ruth. "We caneasily pitch them in the water if they do, and still be very handsomewith our banners and things."
"Here comes the count," cried Maud, who had ignored the conversation ofthe others and was busily scanning the multitudes of boats in search ofher admirer.
Her friends politely controlled a desire to laugh when they saw thecount presently emerge from the boats along the shore in a small canoethat was decorated with one lantern hung from a bamboo stick in the bow,while the French flag waved triumphantly from the stern. The count, inwhite flannels, was working laboriously with the paddle. His littlemustache twitched in an agony of exertion and occasionally he paused towipe the perspiration from his brow.
"The count is quite an athlete, isn't he, Maud?" asked Mollie wickedly."I should think he might lead the parade to-night."
But Maud was not listening. Her whole attention was concentrated on thecanoe, which was making straight for the launch.
"Here I am, Count," she cried, waving her handkerchief to the youngFrenchman, who, as soon as he espied the boat full of girls, had begunto paddle with a grand flourish, at the same time casting meltingglances in the direction of Maud. But he had not calculated on thedistance between the canoe and the launch, and a final, fancy strokewith the paddle, sent the frail little boat scurrying over the water.
It collided with the larger boat, and in an instant turned turtle,dragging the flag of the French ignominiously into the depths while thediscomfited son of France, clung to the side of his boat, and wildlycalled for help.
At first the girls were speechless with laughter and the last of the DeSondes received neither sympathy nor aid. Even Maud joined in themerriment, while the enraged nobleman sputtered angrily in French anddenounced America and everything in it as fit only for pigs.
Presently Barbara wiped the tears from her eyes and threw out a lifepreserver to the unfortunate man.
"There, Count," she called, "you can't sink as long as you hold on tothat. We'll see if we can't right your boat, and you can paddle back toshore."
"I'm sorry we can't offer you the hospitality of our boat," said MissSallie, "but we are anchored, you see, and the engineer is ashore.Besides, I am afraid your wet clothing would spoil our decorations."
The count, however, was too enraged to remember any English. He shookhis fist at the upturned canoe and poured forth a perfect torrent ofmaledictions against it.
Just then a passing launch paused and gave the needed assistance, takingthe count on board and towing the canoe to shore. As the little boat wasrighted an envelope that had evidently fallen from the count's pocket,floated past them in the current.
"You dropped something," called Barbara, but the launch had alreadystarted for shore and the count did not hear her. Using the crook of herparasol Ruth tried to fish it out. As she drew it to the side of theboat it sank out of sight but not before she had read the inscription onit, written in an angular foreign-looking handwriting: "To Madame LaComtesse Sophia von Stolberg."
Barbara, too, saw it, and so did Mollie, whose face flushed crimson withthe memory of what her beloved countess had said to her that night onthe balcony of Thorne House. At that very moment, pinned inside ofMollie's white silk blouse, was the dangerous paper which "concerned thecount very intimately."
Was it about that mysterious document that he was now writing to thecountess?
For the first time Mollie felt the shadow of a doubt cross her mind. Itwas only a tiny speck of a doubt, but it left its impression, try as shewould to shake it off.
Ruth and Barbara exchanged glances, but said nothing. They had seenenough to know that some sort of correspondence was being secretlycarried on between the Countess von Stolberg and the Count de Sonde. IfMaud were to marry the count she would deeply regret it, the CountessSophia had said.
Strangely enough, this speech came back to each of the three girls atthe same moment.
Ruth felt that perhaps they had rushed too quickly into an intimacy withthe countess. For the first time Mollie was inclined to be a littlesuspicious. While Barbara who had even more evidence against theCountess Sophia tried vainly to fit together the pieces of this mostmysterious puzzle.
* * * * *
"Well, fair and beautiful ladies, are you quite ready for a sail on theGrand Canal? Have you your wraps and bonnets? Is Grace's guitar onhand?" called Mr. Stuart that evening, after dinner, rapping on threedoors one after the other.
"In a minute!" called a chorus of voices from the three rooms, while Mr.Stuart put on a look of resigned patience and waited for the girls toappear. At length, tired of waiting, he strolled toward the elevatorwhen Marian De Lancey Smythe hurried along the corridor.
She averted her face when she saw Mr. Stuart, for Marian had sedulouslykept out of sight for a number of days, and they had wondered not alittle at it.
"Why, Miss Marian," called the kind-hearted man, who had always felt aninterest in the strange young girl, "aren't you going to see the waterfete to-night?"
"I'm afraid not, Mr. Stuart," she replied, her lips trembling a little,partly from loneliness and partly because people were not often kind toher. "Mama is going with Mr. Duval and some friends, but I didn't careto go with them."
"Very well, Miss Marian; you must go with us, then. Get your wraps andmeet us on the piazza."
And ten minutes later, her eyes alight with pleasure, Marian made one ofthe party of girls who presently found themselves floating in the longprocession of illuminated boats on the lake.
All the hotels had emptied themselves upon the lake front, and hundredsof boats had already filled and were forming in line for the water. Themoon would not be up until very late, but the place was aglow withJapanese lanterns, which decorated the launches and rowboats and hung infestoons along the boat landings.
The girls had hardly got their lanterns lit when there was a burst ofmusic, and the procession began to wind its sinuous way about the lake.
"The fireworks will begin in a moment, girls," said Mr. Warren, "andthen you will be a part of a wonderful spectacle to those on shore."
Certainly the Stuart boat was one of the most picturesque of all thecr
aft that floated in the parade. The glow of the lanterns made a softillumination about the four young girls, each of whom wore a longbroadcloth cape, a final gift from Mr. Stuart before leaving Chicago.Barbara's was her favorite dark red, Ruth's was pink, Mollie's her ownparticular blue and Grace's a delicate lavender.
"Daughter," continued Mr. Warren, turning to Maud who in an elaboratewhite silk evening wrap, was leaning languidly back in her seat, "aren'tyou feeling well to-night?"
"Oh, perfectly well, Papa," replied Maud, resting her chin on her handand looking out across the fleet of boats moving slowly along the shore."But spectacles of this sort are so childish and tiresome, I think. Theydo bore me--oh, there's the count," she cried, interrupting herself.
Her father looked so grieved and annoyed that Mr. Stuart's heart wasfilled with compassion for his old friend.
"See what a good time the other girls are having," went on Mr. Warren,in a pleading tone. "Look how jolly they are in their bright capes. Iwish you would get one, daughter. These grown-up things make you look somuch older than you really are."
He pressed the girl's hand but she drew away with a petulant expression.
"Please don't, Papa. You know how I detest public demonstrations."
"Oh-h-h!" cried the others.
A sky rocket had exploded and thousands of stars hung for an instantsuspended in mid-air. Then an entire artillery of Roman candles seemedto be let loose at once. There was a blare of trumpets, a grand burst ofmusic and the gorgeous water pageant was outlined against the sky likean illuminated picture.
Other boats began dropping out of line after the music had stopped, andMr. Stuart ordered the engineer to run farther out into the lake wherethe illumination could be seen to better advantage. Grace struck a chordon her guitar and began to sing: "'Tis night on Venice waters," whenMarian, to the surprise of the others, suddenly joined in with a sweetcontralto voice.
"Why, Marian, I never dreamed you could sing like that," exclaimed Ruth,when the song was done.
Marian blushed, but said nothing. She had hardly spoken during the wholeevening.
The air was full of music that night and the sound of laughter andsinging floated across the lake from scores of other boats. The strainsof the "Marseillaise" came to them from a launch that Maud had beenwatching for some time.
"I know whose voice that is," said Barbara. "It's Monsieur Duval's."
"It is, I think," replied Ruth, "although the boat is too far away forus to see him plainly."
Marian drew a scarf over her head and crouched down in her seat.
"Could she be afraid of her own mother?" wondered Barbara, for Mrs. DeLancey Smythe was easily recognized as one of the occupants of the boat.The count, who was playing on a tinkling little mandolin, sat besideher. As the boat drew nearer they noticed another figure wrapped in along blue broadcloth cape. It was that of a woman, sitting with her backto them. A scarf concealed her head and face.
"Barbara," whispered Ruth, "are we dreaming or is it the CountessSophia?"
Barbara strained her eyes to distinguish the figure. Mollie and Gracealso had seen the familiar wrap and poor little Mollie's face burnedwith something very like mortification.
The boat skimmed lightly over the water and in a moment only the lanternat its bow could be seen swinging in the blackness.
"It looks like the countess," whispered Barbara briefly in reply."Marian," she said, turning to the other girl who had closed her eyes asthough she wished to shut out the sight of the other boat, "we just sawyour mother go past with Monsieur Duval and the count, and wethought--we were almost certain we recognized the other person in theboat. Did you notice who it was?"
Marian opened her eyes and looked straight into Barbara's.
"I am sorry, Barbara," she said sadly, "but I can't answer that questionto-night."
The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach; Or, Proving Their Mettle Under Southern Skies Page 18
