CHAPTER VIII.
VERNET "CALLS A TURN."
Leslie Warburton had replaced her mask, but the face she concealed wasengraven upon the memory of her _vis-a-vis_.
A pure pale face, with a firm chin; a rare red mouth, proud yetsensitive; a pair of brown tender eyes, with a touch of sadness in theirdepths; and a broad low brow, over which clustered thick waves of sunnyauburn. She is slender and graceful, carrying her head proudly, and withinherent self-poise in gait and manner.
She glances about her once more, and then says, drawing still nearer thedisguised detective:
"I have been looking for you, Mr. Stanhope, and we have met at afortunate moment. Nearly all the guests have arrived, and everybody isdancing; we may hope for a few undisturbed moments now. You--you have noreason for thinking yourself watched, or your identity suspected, Ihope?"
"None whatever, madam. Have _you_ any fears of that sort?"
"No; none that are well grounded; I dislike secrecy, and the necessityfor it; I suppose I am nervous. Mr. Stanhope," with sudden appeal in hervoice, "how much do you know concerning me, and my present business withyou?"
"Very little. During my drive hither with Mr. Follingsbee, he told mesomething like this: He esteemed you very highly; he had known you foryears; you desired the services of a detective; he had named me asavailable, and been authorized by you to secure my services. He saidthat he knew very little concerning the nature of your business with me,but believed that all that you did would be done wisely, discreetly, andfrom the best of motives. He pointed you out to me when we entered thehouse. That is all, madam."
"Thank you. Mr. Follingsbee is, or was, the tried friend, as well aslegal adviser, of my adopted father, Thomas Uliman, and I know him to betrustworthy. When he spoke of you, Mr. Stanhope, he knew that I desired,not only a skillful detective, but a true-hearted man; one who wouldhold a promise sacred, who would go no further than is required in thematter in hand, and who would respect an unhappy woman's secret--shouldit become known to him."
Her voice died in her throat, and Stanhope rustled his garmentsuneasily. Then she rallied and went on bravely:
"Mr. Follingsbee assured me that you were all I could desire."
"Mr. Follingsbee does me an honor which I appreciate."
"And so, Mr. Stanhope, I am about to trust you. Let us sit here, wherewe shall be unobserved, and tolerably secure from interruption."
She turns toward the divan behind the screen and seats herself thereon,brushing aside her glittering drapery to afford the disguised detectivea place beside her.
He hesitates a moment, then takes the proffered seat and says, almostbrusquely:
"Madam, give me my instructions as rapidly as possible; the very wallshave eyes sometimes, and--I must be away from here before midnight."
"My instructions will be brief. I will state my case, and then answerany questions you find it necessary to ask."
"I shall ask no needless questions, madam."
"Then listen." She nerves herself for a brave effort, and hurries on,her voice somewhat agitated in spite of herself. "For three months pastI have been conscious that I am watched, followed, spied upon. I havebeen much annoyed by this _espionage_. I never drive or walk alone,without feeling that my shadow is not far away. I begin to fear to trustmy servants, and to realize that I have an enemy. Mr. Stanhope, I wantyou to find out who my enemy is."
Behind his starry mask, her listener smiled at this woman-like statementof the case. Then he said, tersely:
"You say that you are being spied upon. How do you know this?"
"At first by intuition, I think; a certain vague, uneasy consciousnessof a strange, inharmonious presence near me. Being thus put on my guardand roused to watchfulness, I have contrived to see, on variousoccasions, the same figure dogging my steps."
"Um! Did you know this figure?"
"No; it was strange to me, but always the same."
"Then your spy is a blunderer. Let us try and sift this matter: A ladymay be shadowed for numerous reasons; do you know why you are watched?"
"N--no," hesitatingly.
"So," thought the detective, "she is not quite frank, with me." Thenaloud: "Do you suspect any one?"
"No."
"Madam, I must ask some personal questions. Please answer them franklyand truly, or not at all, and be sure that every question is necessary,every answer important."
The lady bows her head, and he proceeds:
"First, then, have you a secret?"
She starts, turns her head away, and is silent.
The detective notes the movement, smiles again, and goes on:
"Let us advance a step; you _have_ a secret."
"Why--do you--say that?"
"Because you have yourself told me as much. We never feel that uneasysense of _espionage_, so well described by you, madam, until we havesomething to conceal--the man who carries no purse, fears no robber. Youhave a secret. This has made you watchful, and, being watchful, youdiscover that you have--what? An enemy, or only a tormentor?"
"Both, perhaps," she says sadly.
"My task, then, is to find this enemy. Mrs. Warburton, I shall not touchyour secret; at the same time I warn you in this search it is likely todiscover itself to me without my seeking. Rest assured that I shallrespect it. First, then, you have a secret. Second, you have an enemy.Mrs. Warburton, I should ask fewer questions if I could see your face."
Springing up suddenly, she tears off her mask, and standing before himsays with proud fierceness:
"And why may you not see my face! There is no shame for my mask toconceal! I _have_ a secret, true; but it is not of _my_ making. It hasbeen forced upon me. I am not an _intriguante_: I am a persecuted woman.I am not seeking it to conceal wrong doing, but to protect myself fromthose that wrong me."
The words that begin so proudly, end in a sob, and, covering her facewith her white, jeweled hands, Leslie Warburton turns and rests her headagainst the screen beside her.
Then impulsive, unconventional Dick Stanhope springs up, and, as if hewere administering comfort to a sorrowing child, takes the two handsaway from the tear-wet face, and holding them fast in his own, looksstraight down into the brown eyes as he says:
"Dear lady, trust me! Even as I believe you, believe _me_, when I saythat your confidence shall not be violated. Your secret shall be safe;shall remain yours. Your enemy shall become mine. If you cannot trustme, I cannot help you."
"Oh! I do trust you, Mr. Stanhope; I _must_. Ask of me nothing, for Ican tell you no more. To send for you was unwise, perhaps, but I havebeen so tormented by this spy upon my movements ... and I cannot fightin the dark. It was imprudent to bring you here to-night, but I darednot meet you elsewhere."
There is a lull in the music and a hum of approaching voices. Shehastily resumes her mask, and Stanhope says:
"We had better separate now, madam. Trust your case to me. Icannot remain here much longer, otherwise I might find a clueto-night,--important business calls me. After to-night my time is allyours, and be sure I shall find out your enemy."
People are flocking in from the dancing-room. With a gesture offarewell, "Sunlight" flits out through the door just beside the screen,and a moment later, the Goddess of Liberty is sailing through the longdrawing-rooms on the arm of a personage in the guise of Uncle Sam.
"What success, my friend?"
"It's all right," replies the Goddess of Liberty; "I have seen thelady."
A moment more and her satin skirts trail across the toes of a tallfellow in the dress of a British officer, who is leaning against avine-wreathed pillar, intently watching the crowd through his yellowmask. At sight of the Goddess of Liberty, he starts forward and a sharpexclamation crosses his lips.
"Shades of Moses," he mutters to himself, "I can't be mistaken; that_is_ Dick Stanhope's Vienna costume! Is that Dick inside it? It is! itmust be! What is he doing? On a lay, or on a lark? Dick Stanhope is notgiven to this sort of frolic; I must find out what it means!"
"Dear lady, trust me! Your secret shall be safe; yourenemy shall become mine!"--page 75.]
Passing through a net-work of vines, the British officer comes upon twopeople in earnest conversation. The one wears a scarlet and blackdomino, the other a coquettish Carmen costume.
"That black and red domino is my patron," mutters the officer as heglides by unnoticed. "He does not see me and I do not wish to see _him_just at present." A few steps farther and the British officer comes to asudden halt.
"By Heavens!" he ejaculates, half aloud; "what a chance I see before me!It would be worth something to know what brought Dick Stanhope hereto-night; it would be worth yet more to _keep_ him here _until aftermidnight_. If I had an accomplice to detain _him_ while I, myself,appear at the Agency in time, then the C---- street Raid would movewithout him, the lead would be given to _me_. It's worth trying for. It_shall_ be done, and my patron in black and red shall help me."
He turns, and only looks back to mutter:
"Go on, Dick Stanhope; this night shall begin the trial that, whenended, shall decide which of the two is the better man!"
And the British officer hurries straight on until he stands beside theblack and scarlet domino.
Dangerous Ground; or, The Rival Detectives Page 9
