The Bandbox

by Louis Joseph Vance

  VII

  STOLE AWAY!

  And then (it seemed most astonishing!) nothing happened. The net outcomeof all this fuss and fluster was precisely _nil_. With the collapse ofthe flimsy structure of prejudice and suspicion in which Manvers hadsought to trap Iff, the interest of all concerned seemed to simmer offinto apathy. Nobody did anything helpful, offered any useful suggestionor brought to light anything illuminating. Staff couldn't understand it,for the life of him....

  There was, to be sure, a deal more talk in the captain's cabin--talk inwhich the purser took little or no part. As a matter of fact, Manverskept far in the background and betrayed every indication of a desire tocrawl under the table and be a good dog. The captain had his say,however, and in the end (since he was rather emphatic about it) his way.

  He earnestly desired that the matter should be kept quiet; it would dono good, he argued, to noise it about amongst the passengers; the newswould only excite them and possibly (in some obscure and undesignatedfashion) impede official investigation. He would, of course, spare nopains to fathom the mystery; drastic measures would be taken to securethe detection of the culprit and the restitution of the necklace to itsrightful owner. The ship would be minutely, if quietly, searched; not amember of the crew, from captain to stoker, would be spared, nor anypassenger against whom there might develop the least cause forsuspicion. Detectives would meet the ship at New York and co-operatewith the customs officials in a most minute investigation of thepassengers' effects. Everything possible would be done--trust thecaptain! In the meantime, he requested all present to regard the case asconfidential.

  Iff concurred, somewhat gravely, somewhat diffidently. He was disposedto make no secret of the fact that his presence on board was directlydue to the missing necklace. He had been set to watch Miss Landis, tosee that she didn't smuggle the thing into the United States. He hopedshe wouldn't take offense of this: such was his business; he hadreceived his orders and had no choice but to obey them. (And, so far aswas discernible, Miss Landis did not resent his espionage; but sheseemed interested and, Staff fancied, considerably diverted.) Mr. Iffcould promise Miss Landis that he would leave no stone unturned in hisprivate inquiry; and his work, likewise, would be considerablyfacilitated if the affair were kept quiet. He ventured to second thecaptain's motion.

  Miss Landis offered no objection; Staff and Manvers volunteered tomaintain discretion, Jane was sworn to it. Motion seconded and carried:the meeting adjourned _sine die_; the several parties thereto separatedand went to their respective quarters.

  Staff accompanied Alison as far as her stateroom, but didn't tarry longover his second good-nights. The young woman seemed excusably tired andnervous and anxious to be alone--in no mood to discuss this overwhelmingevent. So Staff spared her.

  In his own stateroom he found Mr. Iff half-undressed, sitting on thetransom and chuckling noiselessly, apparently in such a transport ofamusement that he didn't care whether he ever got to bed or not. Uponthe entrance of his roommate, however, he dried his eyes and made aneffort to contain himself.

  "You seem to think this business funny," suggested Staff, not at allapprovingly.

  "I do," laughed the little man--"I do, indeed. It's a grand youngjoke--clutch it from me, my friend."

  "In what respect, particularly, do you find it so vastly entertaining?"

  "Oh ... isn't that ass Manvers enough?"

  Further than this, Mr. Iff declined to be interviewed. He clamberedbriskly into his berth and chuckled himself to sleep. Staff consideredhis behaviour highly annoying.

  But it was on the following day--the last of the voyage--that he foundreason to consider the affair astonishing because of the lack ofinterest displayed by those personally involved. He made no doubt butthat the captain was keeping his word to the extent of conducting asecret investigation, though no signs of any such proceeding appeared onthe surface of the ship's life. But Alison he could not understand; sheseemed to have cast care to the winds. She appeared at breakfast in thegayest of spirits, spent the entire morning and most of the afternoon ondeck, the centre of an animated group shepherded by the indefatigableMrs. Ilkington, dressed herself radiantly for the grand final dinner,flirted with the assiduously attentive Arkroyd until she had reducedStaff to the last stages of corroded jealousy, and in general (as Stafffound a chance to tell her) seemed to be having the time of her life.

  "And why not?" she countered. "Spilt milk!"

  "Judged by your conduct," observed Staff, "one would be justified inthinking the Cadogan collar an _article de Paris_."

  "One might think any number of foolish things, dear boy. If the collar'sgone, it's gone, and not all the moping and glooming imaginable willbring it back to me. If I do get it back--why, that'll be simply goodluck; and I've never found it profitable yet to court Fortune with adoleful mouth."

  "You certainly practise your theory," he said. "I swear I believe I'mmore concerned about your loss than you are."

  "Certainly you are, you silly boy. For my part, I feel quite confidentthe necklace will be returned."

  He stared. "Why?"

  She opened her hands expressively. "I've always been lucky.... Besides,if I never see it again, it'll come back to me this way or that--inadvertising, for one."

  "Isn't that dodge pretty well worked out with the newspapers? It seemsto me that it has come to that, of late; or else the prime donne havetaken to guarding their valuables with greater care."

  "Oh, that makes no difference. With another woman it might, but I"--sheshrugged--"I'm Alison Landis, if you please. The papers won't neglect_me_. Besides, Max can do much as he likes with them."

  "Have you--?"

  "Of course--by wireless, first thing this morning."

  "But you promised--"

  "Don't be tiresome, Staff. I bought this necklace on Max's suggestion,as an advertisement--I meant to wear it in _A Single Woman_; that alonewould help make our play a go. Since I can't get my advertising and havemy necklace, too, why, in goodness' name, mayn't I get what I can out ofit?"

  "Oh, well ..."

  Staff abandoned argument and resting his forearms on the rail, staredsombrely out over the darkling waters for a moment or two.

  This was at night, during an intermission in a dance on deck which hadbeen arranged by special permission of the weather--the latter holdingvery calm and warm. Between halves Staff had succeeded in disentanglingAlison from a circle of admirers and had marched her up to theboat-deck, where there was less light--aside from that furnished by anobliging moon--and more solitude.

  Under any other circumstances Staff would have been enchanted with thesituation. They were quite alone, if not unobserved; and there was magicin the night, mystery and romance in the moonlight, the inky shadows,the sense of swift movement through space illimitable. Alison stoodwith back to the rail so near him that his elbow almost touched theartificial orchid that adorned her corsage. He was acutely sensitive ofher presence, of the faint persistent odour of her individual perfume,of the beauty and grace of her strong, free-limbed body in itsimpeccable Paquin gown, of the sheen of her immaculate arms andshoulders and the rich warmth of her face with its alluring, shadowedeyes that seemed to mock him with light, fascinating malice, of themagnetism of her intense, ineluctable vitality diffused as naturally assunlight. But--the thought rankled--Arkroyd had won three dances to histwo; and through all that day Alison had seemed determined to avoid him,to keep herself surrounded by an obsequious crowd, impenetrable to herlover....

  On the deck below the band began to play again: signalling the end ofthe intermission. Alison hummed lightly a bit of the melody, her silkenslipper tapping the deck.

  "Do I get another dance?" he asked suddenly.

  She broke off her humming. "So sorry," she said; "my card is quite fulland running over."

  "May I see it?" She surrendered it without hesitation. He frowned,endeavouring to decipher the scrawl by the inadequate moonlight.

  "You wanted to know--?" she enquired, with a laug
h back of her tone.

  "How many has Arkroyd, this half?" he demanded bluntly.

  "Two, I think," she answered coolly. "Why?"

  He stared gravely into her shadowed face. "Is that good advertising,too," he asked quietly--"to show marked preference to a man of Arkroyd'scalibre and reputation?"

  Alison laughed. "You're delicious when you're jealous, Staff," said she."No; it isn't advertising--it's discipline."

  "Discipline?"

  "Just that. I'm punishing you for your obstinacy about the play. You'llsee, my dear," she taunted him: "I'm going to have my own way or makeyour life perfectly miserable."

  Before he could invent an adequate retort, the beautiful Mr. Bangs cametripping across the deck, elation in his manner.

  "Ah, there you are, Miss Landis! My dance, you know. Been lookingeverywhere for you."

  "So sorry: I was just coming down."

  Alison caught up the demi-train of her gown, but paused an instantlonger, staring Staff full in the face, her air taunting andprovocative.

  "Think it over, Staff," she advised in a cool, metallic voice; anddropping her hand on Bangs' arm, moved languidly away.

  Staff did think it over, if with surprisingly little satisfaction tohimself. It wasn't possible to ignore the patent fact that Alison haddetermined to make him come to heel. That apparently was the onlyattitude possible for one who aspired to the post of firstplaywright-in-waiting and husband-in-ordinary to the first actress inthe land. He doubted his ability to supple his back to the requisitedegree. Even for the woman he loved.... Or did he?... Through thewraith-like mists of fading illusions he caught disturbingglimpses--dark shapes of lurking doubts.

  Disquieted, he found distasteful the thought of returning to the lowerdeck, and so strolled idly aft with a half-formed notion of looking upIff.

  From a deck-chair a woman's voice hailed him: "Oh, Mr. Staff...."

  "Miss Searle?" He turned in to her side, experiencing an odd sensationof pleasure in the encounter; which, wisely or not, he didn't attempt toanalyse--at least further than the thought that he had seen little ofthe young woman during the last two days and that she was ratherlikeable.

  "You're not dancing?" he asked in surprise; for she, too, had dressedfor this celebration of the last night of the voyage.

  Smiling, she shook her head slightly. "Neither are you, apparently.Won't you sit down?"

  He wasn't at all reluctant to take the chair by her side. "Why not?" heasked.

  "Oh, I did dance once or twice and then I began to feel a bit tired andbored and stole away to think."

  "Long, long thoughts?" he asked lightly.

  "Rather," said she with becoming gravity. "You see, it seems prettyserious to one, this coming home to face new and unknown conditionsafter three years' absence.... And then, after six days at sea, out oftouch with the world, practically, there's always the feeling ofsuspense about what will happen when you get solid earth under yourfeet. You know what I mean."

  "I do. You live in New York?"

  "I mean to try to," she said quietly. "I haven't any home, really--noparents and only distant family connections. In fact, all I do possessis a little income and an immense desire to work."

  "You're meaning to look for an engagement, then?"

  "I must."

  "Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, "I might help you a bit; I know someof the managers pretty well ..."

  "Thank you. I meant to ask you, but hoped you'd offer." She laughed atrifle shyly. "I presume that's a bold, forward confession to make, butI've been so long abroad I don't know my way round at home, anymore."

  "That's all right," said Staff, liking her candour. "Where shall you be?Where can I find you?"

  "I hardly know--for a day or two at some hotel, and as soon as possiblein a small studio, if I can find one to sublet."

  "Tell you what you do," he suggested: "drop me a line at the Players,letting me know when and where you settle."

  "Thank you," she said, "I shall."

  He was silent for a little, musing, his gaze wandering far over theplacid reaches of the night-wrapped ocean. "Funny little world, this,"he said, rousing: "I mean, the ship. Here we are today, some severalhundreds of us, all knit together by an intricate network of interests,aims, ambitions and affections that seem as strong and inescapable asthe warp and woof of Life itself; and yet tomorrow--we land, we separateon our various ways, and the network vanishes like a dew-gemmed spider'sweb before the sun."

  "Only the dew vanishes," she reminded him; "the web remains, if almostinvisible.... Still, I know what you mean.... Wasn't that Miss Landisyou were with, just now?"

  "Yes."

  "Tell me"--she stirred, half turning to him--"has anything newtranspired--about the collar?"

  "You know about that!" he exclaimed in surprise.

  "Of course; the ship has been humming with it ever since dinner."

  "But how--?"

  "Mrs. Ilkington told me, of course. I presume Miss Landis told her."

  "Doubtless," he agreed reluctantly, little relishing the thought. Still,it seemed quite plausible, Alison's views on advertising valuesconsidered. "No," he added presently; "I've heard nothing new."

  "Then the Secret Service man hasn't accomplished anything?"

  "So you know about him, too?... Can't say--haven't seen him sincemorning. Presumably he's somewhere about, sniffing for clues."

  "Miss Landis," said the girl in a hesitant manner--"doesn't seem toworry very much ...?"

  "No," admitted Staff.

  "Either that, or she's as wonderful an actress off the boards as on."

  "They mostly are," Staff observed. He was hardly ready to criticise hisbeloved to a comparative stranger. The subject languished and died ofinanition.

  "By the way--did you ever solve the mystery of your bandbox?"

  Staff started. "What made you think of that?"

  "Oh--I don't know."

  "No--haven't had any chance. I rather expect to find out something bythe time I get home, though. It isn't likely that so beautiful a hatwill be permitted to blush unseen." His interest quickened. "Won't youtell me, please?" he begged, bending forward.

  But the girl laughed softly and shook her head.

  "Please!"

  "Oh, I couldn't. I've no right to spoil a good joke."

  "Then you think it's a joke?" he enquired gloomily.

  "What else could it be?"

  "I only wish I knew!"

  The exclamation was so fervent that Miss Searle laughed again.

  Six bells sounded in the pause that followed and the girl sat upsuddenly with a little cry of mock dismay.

  "Eleven o'clock! Good Heavens, I mustn't loaf another minute! I've allmy packing to do."

  She was up and standing before Staff could offer to assist her. But shepaused long enough to slip a hand into his.

  "Good night, Mr. Staff; and thank you for volunteering to help me."

  "I shan't forget," he promised. "Good night."

  He remained momentarily where she left him, following with his gaze hertall and slender yet well-proportioned figure as it moved along themoonlit deck, swaying gracefully to the long, smooth, almostimperceptible motion of the ship.

  He wore just then a curious expression: his eyes wondering, his browspuckered, his thin lips shaping into their queer, twisted smile....Funny (he found it) that a fellow could feel so comfortable and contentin the company of a woman he didn't care a rap about, so ill at ease andout of sorts when with the mistress of his dreams! It didn't, somehow,seem just right....

  With a dubious grimace, he went aft. Iff, however, wasn't in thesmoking-room. Neither was he anywhere else that Staff could discover inhis somewhat aimless wanderings. And he found his stateroom unoccupiedwhen at length he decided to turn in.

  "Sleuthing," was the word with which he accounted for the little man'sinvisibility, as he dropped off to sleep.

  If he were right, Iff was early on the job. When the bath-steward'sknock brought Staff out of his bert
h the next morning, his companion ofthe voyage was already up and about; his empty berth showed that it hadbeen slept in, but its occupant had disappeared with his clothing; andeven his luggage (he travelled light, with a kit-bag and a suit-case forall impedimenta) had been packed and strapped, ready to go ashore.

  "Conscientious," commented the playwright privately. "Wonder if he'sreally on the track of anything?"

  Idle speculation, however, was suddenly drowned in delight when, hissleep-numb faculties clearing, he realised that the Autocratic wasresting without way, and a glance out of the stateroom port showed himthe steep green slopes of Fort Tompkins glistening in new sunlight.

  Home! He choked back a yell of joy, and raced to his bath. Within twentyminutes, bathed, clothed and sane, he was on deck.

  By now, having taken on the health officers, the great vessel was inmotion again, standing majestically up through the Narrows. Tostarboard, Bay Ridge basked in golden light. Forward, over the starboardbow, beyond leagues of stained water quick with the life of two-scoretypes of harbour and seagoing craft, New York reared its raggedbattlements against a sky whose blue had been faded pale by summer heat.Soft airs and warm breathed down the Bay, bearing to his nostrils thatwell-kenned, unforgettable odour, like none other on earth, of thesun-scorched city.

  Staff filled his lungs and was glad. It is good to be an American ableto go roaming for to admire and for to see; but it is best of all to bean American coming home.

  Joy in his heart, Staff dodged below, made his customs declaration,bolted his breakfast (with the greater expedition since he had forcompany only Mrs. Thataker, a plump, pale envelope for a soul of pinkpining for sympathy) and hurried back to the deck.

  Governor's Island lay abeam. Beyond it the East River was openingup--spanned by its gossamer webs of steel. Ahead, and near at hand, NewYork bulked magnificently, purple canyons yawning between itspastel-tinted cliffs of steel and glass and stone: the heat haze,dimming all, lent soft enchantment....

  Ranks of staring passengers hid the rail, each a bundle of unsuspectedhopes and fears, longings and apprehensions, keen for the hour oflanding that would bring confirmation, denial, disappointment,fulfillment.

  Amidships Staff descried Mrs. Ilkington's head and shoulders next toMiss Searle's profile. Arkroyd was with them and Bangs. Alison he didnot see, nor Iff. As he hesitated whether or not to approach them, asteward touched his arm apologetically.

  "Beg pardon--Mr. Staff?"

  "Yes ...?"

  "Mr. Manvers--the purser, sir--awsked me to request you to be so kind asto step down to Miss Landis' stiteroom."

  "Certainly."

  The door to Alison's sitting-room was ajar. He knocked and heard hervoice bid him enter. As he complied it was the purser who shut the doortight behind him.

  He found himself in the presence of Alison, Jane, Manvers and three menwhom he did not know. Alison alone was seated, leaning back in anarmchair, her expression of bored annoyance illustrated by the quick,steady tapping of the toe of her polished boot. She met his questioninglook with a ready if artificial and meaningless smile.

  "Oh, you weren't far away, were you, Staff?" she said lightly. "Thesegentlemen want to ask you some questions about that wretched necklace. Iwish to goodness I'd never bought the thing!"

  Her expression had changed to petulance. Ceasing to speak, she resumedthe nervous drumming of her foot upon the carpet.

  Manvers took the initiative: "Mr. Staff, this is Mr. Siddons of thecustoms service; this is Mr. Arnold of the United States Secret Service;and this, Mr. Cramp of Pinkerton's. They came aboard at Quarantine."

  Staff nodded to each man in turn, and reviewed their faces, finding themone and all more or less commonplace and uninteresting.

  "How-d'-you-do?" he said civilly; and to Manvers: "Well ...?"

  "We were wondering if you'd seen anything of Mr. Iff this morning?"

  "No--nothing. He came to bed after I'd gone to sleep last night, and wasup and out before I woke. Why?"

  "He--" the purser began; but the man he had called Mr. Arnoldinterrupted.

  "He claimed to be a Secret Service man, didn't he?"

  "He did," returned Staff. "Captain Cobb saw his credentials, I believe."

  "But that didn't satisfy him," Manvers put in eagerly. "I managed tomake him understand that credentials could be forged, so he wirelessedfor information. And," the purser added triumphantly after a distinctdramatic pause, "he got it."

  "You mean Iff isn't what he claimed--?" exclaimed Staff.

  Arnold nodded brusquely. "There's no such person in the service," heaffirmed.

  "Then he _is_ Ismay!"

  The Pinkerton man answered him: "If he is and I lay eyes on him, I cantell in two shakes."

  "By George!" cried Staff in admiration--"the clever little scamp!"

  "You may well say so," said Manvers bitterly. "If you'd listened tome--if the captain had--this wouldn't have happened."

  "What--the theft?"

  "Yes, that primarily; but now, you know--because he was given so muchrope--he's vanished."

  "What!"

  "Vanished--disappeared--gone!" said the purser, waving his handsgraphically.

  "But he can't have left the ship!"

  "Doesn't seem so, does it?" said the Pinkerton man morosely. "All thesame, we've made a pretty thorough search, and he can't be found."

  "You see," resumed Manvers, "when the captain got word yesterdayafternoon that Iff or Ismay wasn't what he pretended to be, he simplywirelessed back for a detective, and didn't arrest Iff, because--hesaid--he couldn't get away. I told him he was wrong--and he was!"