The Mardi Gras Mystery

by H. Bedford-Jones

  CHAPTER II

  _Masquers_

  Joseph Maillard might have hopefully considered the note from theMidnight Masquer to be a hoax perpetrated by some of his friends, but hetook no chances. Two detectives were posted in the grounds outside thehouse; inside, two others, masked and costumed, were keeping a quietlyefficient eye on all that transpired.

  Each guest upon entering was conducted directly to the presence ofJoseph Maillard himself, or of his wife; was bidden to unmask in thisprivate audience, and was then presented with a favour and sent forthmasked anew to the festivities. These favours were concealed, in thecase of the ladies, in corsage bouquets; in that of the men, insidefalse cigars. There was to be a general opening of the favours atmidnight, the time set for unmasking. All this ceremony was regarded bythe guests as a delightful innovation, and by Joseph Maillard as adelightful way of assuring himself that only the invited guests enteredhis house. Invitations might be forged--faces, never!

  Lucie Ledanois entered the presence of her stately relative, and afterunmasking, dutifully exchanged kisses with Mrs. Maillard. Until somemonths previously, until she had come into the management of her ownproperty--or what was left of it--Lucie had been the ward of theMaillards. Their former attitude of possession still lingered, but theywere relatives for whom she felt little real affection.

  "Mercy, child, how marvellous you look to-night!" exclaimed Mrs.Maillard, holding her off and examining her high colour with obvioussuspicion. Mrs. Maillard was herself rather plump and red, and stern ofeye into the bargain. She was a keen, masterful woman.

  "Thank you, ma'am," and Lucie made a mock courtesy. "Do you like littleColumbine?"

  "Very much. Here's Aunt Sally; take Miss Lucie's cloak, Sally."

  An old coloured servant bobbed her head in greeting to Lucie, whoremoved her cloak. As she did so, she saw that Mrs. Maillard's voicedied away, and that the lady's eyes were fastened in utter amazementupon her throat.

  "Isn't it pretty, auntie?" she asked, smilingly. This was straining therelationship a trifle, but it was a custom which Lucie usually followedwith the family.

  "My goodness gracious!" The stern eyes hardened. "Where--where on earthdid _you_ obtain such a thing? Why--why----"

  Columbine's features flinched. She was a poor relation, of course, sothe look in the older woman's eyes and the implication of the wordsformed little less than an insult.

  Quietly she put one hand to her throat and removed the collar, droppingit into the hand of Mrs. Maillard. It was a thing to make any woman'seyes widen--a collar of exquisitely wrought gold studded with ten greatblazing star sapphires. Beside it the diamonds that bejewelled Mrs.Maillard's ample front looked cold and lifeless.

  "That?" queried Lucie, innocently, producing a scrap of chamois anddabbing at her nose. "Oh, that's very interesting! It was made for QueenHortense--so was this scarf that keeps my ragged hair from lopping out!"

  "You didn't buy them, certainly!" demanded Mrs. Maillard.

  "Of course not. They were a present--only this morning."

  "Girl!" The lady's voice was harsh. "A present? From whom, if youplease?"

  "Oh, I promised not to tell; he's a particular friend of mine. Aren'tthe stones pretty?"

  Mrs. Maillard was speechless. She compressed her firm lips and watchedLucie replace the sapphire collar without a word to offer. Silently sheextended a corsage bouquet from the pile beside her; then, in atrembling voice, forced herself to explain about the favour inside.

  "And I hope," she added, "that before receiving any more such valuablepresents you'll consult _me_. Of course, if you don't wish to tell aboutthis, you needn't; but a word of advice will often save a girl frommaking very serious mistakes."

  "Thank you, auntie dear," and Lucie nodded as she pinned the bouquet."You're just as dear to me as you can be! See you later."

  Slipping her mask into place she was gone, not without relief. She knewvery well that within half an hour Bob Maillard would be informed thatshe had accepted gifts of jewels from other men, with all theaccompanying implications and additions that imagination could furnish.For, although Bob Maillard wanted very much indeed to marry her hismother had no intention of sanctioning such a union.

  "Neither has Uncle Joseph," she reflected, smiling to herself, "andneither have I! So we're all agreed, except Bob."

  "Columbine!" A hand fell upon her wrist. "Columbine! Turn and confessthy sins!"

  A cry of instinctive alarm broke from the girl; she turned, only tobreak into a laugh of chagrin at her own fright.

  She had come to the foot of the wide, old-fashioned stairway that led tothe floors above, and beside her had suddenly appeared a Franciscanmonk, cowled and gowned in sober brown from head to foot.

  "You frightened me, holy man!" she cried, gaily. "Confess to you,indeed! Not I."

  "Never a better chance, butterfly of the world!" It was a voice that shedimly recognized, yet she could not name the owner: a merry, carefreevoice that was slightly disguised.

  "Never a better chance," and the Franciscan offered his arm. "Haste notto the dance, fair sister--tarry a while and invite the soul in speechof import! Having passed the dragon at the gate, tarry a moment withthis man of vows----"

  "Shrive me quickly, then," she said, laughing.

  "Now, without confession? Would you have me read your thoughts and givepenance?"

  "If you can do that, holy man, I may confess; so prove it quickly!"

  For the moment they stood alone. Higher on the stairs, and among therooms behind them, were gay groups of masquers--dominoes, imposingMephistos, backwoodsmen, gallants of Spain and France, red Indians andturbaned Hindus.

  The Franciscan leaned forward. His voice came low, distinct, clear-cut,and he spoke in the French which Lucie understood as anothermother-tongue, as do most of the older families of New Orleans.

  "See how I read them, mademoiselle! One thought is of uneasy suspicion;it is typified by a hard-lipped, grasping man. One thought is ofprofound regret; it is typified by a darkly welling stream of oil. Onethought----"

  Suddenly Lucie had shrunk away from him. "Who--who are you?" shebreathed, with a gasp that was almost of fear. "Who are you, monsieur?"

  "A humble brother of minor orders," and he bowed. "Shall I not continuewith my reading? The third thought, mademoiselle, is one of hope; it istypified by a small man who is dressed all in gray----"

  Lucie turned away from him quickly.

  "I think that you have made some grave error, monsieur," she said. Hervoice was cold, charged with dismissal and offended dignity. "I prayyou, excuse me."

  Not waiting any response, she hastily ran up the stairs. After her, fora moment, gazed the Franciscan, then shrugged his wide shoulders andplunged into the crowd.

  The ballroom on the top floor was throbbing with music, gay withcostumes and decorations, thronged with dancing couples. Into the whirlof it pirouetted Columbine. Almost at once she found herself dancingwith a gorgeously attired Musketeer; she separated from him as quicklyas possible, for she recognized him as Bob Maillard. Nor did he find heragain, although he searched, not knowing her identity; for she evadedhim.

  While she danced, while she chattered and laughed and entered into themad gaiety of the evening, Lucie Ledanois could not banish from her mindthat ominous Franciscan. How could he have known? How could he haveguessed what only she and one other barely suspected? There was noproof, of course; the very breath of suspicion seemed a calumny againstan upright man!

  Joseph Maillard had sold that Terrebonne land six months before any gasor oil had been discovered there, and eight months before Lucie had comeinto the management of her own affairs. He had not known about theminerals, of course; it was a case only of bad judgment. Yet,indubitably, he was now a shareholder and officer in the Bayou OilCompany, the concern which had bought that strip of land.

  Two years previously Maillard had sold that swamp land up in St. Landryparish; the land had
been drained and sectioned off by real estatepeople at enormous profit.

  Lucie strove angrily to banish the dark thoughts from her mind. Why,Maillard was a rich man, a banker, an honorable gentleman! To doubt hishonour, although he was a harsh and a stern man, was impossible. Lucieknew him better than most, and could not believe----

  "May I crave pardon for my error?" came a voice at her elbow. Sheturned, to see the Franciscan again beside her. "With a thousandapologies for impertinence, mademoiselle; I am very sorry for my faults.Will not that admission obtain for me one little dance, one hint offorgiveness from fair Columbine?"

  Something in his voice spelt sincerity. Lucie, smiling, held out herhand.

  "You are pardoned, holy man. If you can dance in that friar's robe, thentry it!"

  Could he dance, indeed! Who could not dance with Columbine for partner?So saying, the monk proved his word by the deed and proved it well. Nordid he again hint that he had recognized her; until, as they parted, heonce more left her astonished and perturbed. As he bowed he murmured:

  "Beware, sweet Columbine! Beware of the gay Aramis! Beware of hisproposals!"

  He was gone upon the word.

  Aramis? Why, that must be the Musketeer, of course--Bob Maillard! Thename, with its implications, was a clever hit. But who was this brownmonk, who seemed to know so much, who danced so divinely, whose Frenchwas like music? A vague suspicion was in the girl's mind, but she had noproof.

  Half an hour after this Bob Maillard came to her, and with impatientwords made a path through the circle which surrounded her. He caught herhand and bent over it with an affectation of gallantry which became himwell, for in his costume he made a handsome figure.

  "I know you now, Lucie!" he murmured. "I must see you at once--in theconservatory."

  She was minded to refuse, but assented briefly. The words of the monkintrigued her; what had the man guessed? If Bob were indeed about topropose, she would this time cut off his hopes for good. But--was itthat sort of a proposal?

  As she managed to rid herself of her admirers, and descended to theconservatory, she was highly vexed with herself and the Franciscan, andso came to her appointment in no equable frame of mind. She foundMaillard waiting in the old-fashioned conservatory; he had unmasked, andwas puffing a cigarette. His heavy features and bold, shrewd eyes werefastened hungrily upon her as he came to meet her.

  "By gad, Lucie, you're beautiful to-night!"

  "Thanks, cousin Robert. Was it for that----?"

  "No! See here, where did you get that collar of jewels?"

  "Indeed!" The girl proudly drew herself up. "What business is that ofyours, sir?"

  "Aren't you one of the family? It's our business to protect yourrep----"

  "Be careful!" Anger trembled in her voice, cut off his words. "Becareful!"

  "But damn it--Lucie! Don't you know that I want to marry you----"

  "My dear Robert, I certainly do not want to marry any man who swears tomy face--you least of all!" she coldly intervened. "I have alreadyrefused you three times; let this be the fourth and last. I owe you noaccount of my possessions nor where I get them; I am entirely capable ofmanaging my own affairs. Now, kindly inform me why you wished me to meetyou here. Also, you know that I don't like cigarette smoke."

  Sulkily, Maillard threw away his cigarette; with an effort he calmedhimself. He was anything but a fool, this young man. He was ratherclever, and saw that he had so long considered his pretty cousin apersonal possession that he was now in some danger of losing her.

  "I have a chance to make some money for you in a hurry," he said. "Yourfather left you a good deal of land up Bayou Terrebonne way----"

  "Your father sold some of it," she put in, idly. His eyes flickered tothe thrust.

  "Yes; but you've plenty left, near Paradis. It's away from the gasfield, but I'm interested in an oil company. We've plenty of money, andwe're going to go strong after the liquid gold. That land of yours isgood for nothing else, and if you want to make some money out of it I'llswing the company into leasing at a good figure and drilling there."

  "You think there's oil on the land?"

  "No." He made a swift, energetic gesture of dissent. "To be frank, Idon't. But I'd like to throw a bit of luck your way, Lucie. We'regetting a lot of money into the company, and some brains. That fellowGramont--the prince, you know him--he's an engineer and a geologist, andhe's in the swim."

  "So," the girl smiled a little, "you would betray your business friendsin order to make a bit of money for me?"

  Maillard stared at her. "Well, if you put it that way, yes! I'd do morethan that for----"

  "Thank you," she interrupted, her voice cold. "I don't think I'd trustyour sagacity very far, Robert. Good-night."

  She turned from him and was gone, dancing through the great rooms like atrue Columbine. Later he saw her among the dancers above, although heobtained no further speech with her.

  Midnight neared, and brought a concern to many; the Midnight Masquer hadgained his name by invariably appearing a moment or two before thestroke of twelve. Jachin Fell, who divided his time between enjoying thesmoking room and wandering about among the masquers, perceived thatJoseph Maillard was watching the time with anxiety.

  A large man, stern and a bit scornful of look, Maillard was imposingrather than handsome. He appeared the typical banker, efficient, devoidof all sentiment. Amused by the man's evident uneasiness, Jachin Fellkept him in view while the moments dragged. One might have thought thatthe little gray man was studying the financier as an entomologiststudies a butterfly on a pin.

  Shortly before twelve Columbine pirouetted up to Jachin Fell andaccepted the arm he offered her. They were for the moment alone, in acorner of the ballroom.

  "I must see you to-morrow, please," she breathed.

  "Gladly," he assented. "May I call? It's Sunday, you know----"

  "If you will; at three. Something has happened, but I cannot speak of ithere. Does any one else know that you--that you are interested in myaffairs?"

  The pale gray eyes of the little gray man looked very innocent andwondering.

  "Certainly not, my dear! Why?"

  "I'll tell you to-morrow." Then she broke into a laugh. "Well, it ismidnight--and the Masquer has not appeared! I'm almost sorry."

  The lights flickered off for a moment, then on again. The signal forunmasking!

  The dancing ceased. From the whole room arose a babel of voices--criesof surprise, exclamations, merry laughter. Columbine removed her mask.An instant later Joseph Maillard approached them, chuckling to himselfand looking hugely relieved.

  "Ha, Lucie! I guessed you beneath the Columbine daintiness! Well,Jachin, it was a hoax after all, eh? Some confounded joke. Come down tothe library in five minutes, will you? A meeting of the select circle,to discuss prohibition."

  "Aren't you going to invite me, Uncle Joseph?" broke in Lucie, gaily.

  "No, no, little one!" Maillard reproved her, laughingly. "Look not uponthe silver cup at your age, my dear. Have you examined your favour yet?"

  Remembering, the girl caught at her corsage. Cries of delight werearising on all sides as the favours were revealed--most handsomefavours, even for Mardi Gras! From the heart of the rosebuds in her handLucie removed a brooch of old filigree work set with a group of pearls.She glanced about for Jachin Fell, but he had vanished with Maillard. Avoice rose at her elbow:

  "Mademoiselle, you are not less lucky than beautiful! Pearls to thepearl!"

  She turned to see the Franciscan--no longer masked, but now gazing ather from a frank, laughing countenance, still partially veiled by thebrown cowl that was drawn up close about his head.

  "Henry Gramont!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I half suspected that it wasyou----"

  "But you were not sure?" he chuckled. "You're not offended with me,Lucie?"

  "I should be." She tossed her head. "You were impertinent, M. leprince!"

  He made a distasteful gesture. "None of that, Lucie! You know I don'tlike it----"

  "
Oh, la, la!" she mocked him. "M. le prince is seeing America, _n'est cepas_? He has come to America to find a rich wife, is it not?"

  Gramont's face lost its smile, and suddenly became almost harsh.

  "I shall call upon you at four to-morrow, Lucie," he said, abruptly, andturned. Nor did he pause to get her reply. An instant afterward Luciewas surrounded by a merry group of friends, and she saw no more of HenryGramont.

  About five minutes later those in the ballroom distinctly heard, throughthe open windows, the heavy pulsations of an airplane motor.