The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure

by H. B. Marriott Watson

  THE MASK

  A Story of Love and Adventure

  by

  ARTHUR HORNBLOW

  Author of the Novels "The Lion and the Mouse," "The Gamblers," "Boughtand Paid For," "By Right of Conquest," "The End of the Game," Etc.

  Illustrations by Paul Stahr

  [Frontispiece: A small jewelled hand struck him full on the mouth.]

  G. W. Dillingham CompanyPublishers -------- New YorkCopyright, 1913, byG. W. Dillingham Company

  _The Mask_

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  A small jewelled hand struck him full on the mouth. . . . _Frontispiece_

  "Yes, you are my brother. We are twins."

  "I adore you--I adore you," he murmured, as he kissed her again.

  THE MASK

  CHAPTER I

  "There! What did I tell you? The news is out!"

  With a muttered exclamation of annoyance, Kenneth Traynor put down hiscoffee cup with a crash and, leaning over the table, pointed out to hiswife a despatch from London, given prominence in the morning paper,which ran as follows:

  Advices from Cape Town report the finding on a farm near Fontein, ahundred miles north of here, of a diamond which in size is only secondto the famous Koh-i-noor. The stone, which is in the shape of an eggwith the top cut off, weighs 1,649 carats, and was discovered afterblasting at the foot of some rocks on land adjacent to the tract ownedby the Americo-African Mining Company of New York. It is understoodthat the American Company is negotiating for the property; some say thetransfer has already been made. If this is true, the finding of thiscolossal stone means a windfall for the Yankee stockholders.

  The Traynor home, No. ---- Gramercy Park, was one of those dignified,old-fashioned residences that still remain in New York to remind ourvulgar, ostentatious _nouveaux riches_ of the days when culture andrefinement counted for something more than mere wealth. Overlookingthe railed-in square with its green lawns, pretty winding paths andwell-dressed children romping at play, it had a high stoop which openedinto a wide hall, decorated with obsolete weapons and trophies of thehunt. On the right were rich tapestries, masking the folding doors ofa spacious drawing-room, richly decorated and furnished in Louis XIV.period. Beyond this, to the rear of the house which had been built outto the extreme end of the lot, was the splendidly appointed dining-roomwith its magnificent fireplace of sculptured white marble, surmountedby a striking portrait in oils by Carolus Duran of Mrs. Traynor--apainting which had been one of the most successful pictures of theprevious year's salon.

  In a clinging, white silk negligee gown, the gossamer folds of whichonly partially veiled the outlines of a slender, graceful figure, Helensat at the breakfast table opposite her husband, toying languidly withher knife and fork. It was nearly noon, long past the usual breakfasttime, and by every known gastronomical law her appetite should havebeen on keen edge. But this morning she left everything untasted.Even the delicious wheat cakes, which none better than Mammy, theirSouthern cook, knew how to do to a point, did not tempt her. They hadbeen out to dinner the night before. Her head ached; she was nervousand feverish. Always full of good spirits and laughter, ever the souland life of the house, it was unusual to find her in this mood, and ifher husband, now voraciously devouring the tempting array of ham andeggs spread before him, had not been so absorbed in the news of theday, he would have quickly noticed it, and guessed there was somethingamiss.

  Certainly the appearance of the dining-room was enough to upset thenerves of anyone, especially a sensitive young woman who prided herselfon her housekeeping. All around was chaos and confusion. The usuallysedate, orderly dining-room was littered with trunks, grips, umbrellasand canes enveloped in rugs--all the confusion incidental to a hurrieddeparture.

  She took the newspaper, read the despatch and handed it back in silence.

  "Isn't that the very deuce!" he went on peevishly. "We've been tryingour utmost to keep it secret. Unless we're quick, there'll be a rushof adventurers from all parts of the world before we can secure theoptions. Happily the despatch is vague. They don't know all thefacts. If they did----" Lowering his voice and looking aroundcautiously to make sure that the butler had left the room and no onewas listening, he continued: "Besides you know what I am to bring back.It couldn't be entrusted to anyone else. Just think--a stone worthnearly a million dollars! I hope no one will guess I have it in mypossession. It must be brought safe to New York. That's why it's soimportant that I go at once. Even by catching the _Mauretania_to-morrow, I can't reach Cape Town for a month, and every moment countsnow."

  As Helen was still silent he glanced across the table at her for thefirst time. Her pallor and the drooping lines about her mouth told himsomething was wrong. Instantly concerned, he asked:

  "What's the matter, dear?"

  "I'm horribly nervous."

  "What about?"

  "This trip of yours, of course."

  "You ought to be used to them by this time. This isn't the first timeI've had to leave you since our marriage."

  "I didn't mind the other trips so much. When you went to Mexico andAlaska, it didn't seem so far away. But this journey to South Africais different. You are running a terrible risk carrying that diamond.I can't shake off a horrible feeling that something dreadful willhappen."

  Surprised less at what she said than at her serious manner, he laiddown the newspaper, and, jumping up, went over to her. His wife satmotionless, her lips trembling, her large eyes filled with tears. Inspite of a palpable effort at self-control, it was evident that she waslaboring under great nervous tension. Bending caressingly over her, hesaid anxiously:

  "Why Helen, old girl! What's the matter?"

  She made no answer. Her head fell on his breast. For a moment shecould not speak. Her emotion seemed to choke her utterance, paralyzeher speech. He insisted:

  "What is it, dearie?" he demanded.

  "I'm so nervous about your going, I'm so afraid about your having thediamond," she sobbed. Suddenly, as if unable longer to controlherself, she rose from the table and threw her arms around his neck.Passionately she cried: "Oh, Kenneth, don't go! Don't go! I feel thatsomething will happen."

  He laughed carelessly as he fondled her. More seriously he replied:

  "I hope something does happen. That's what I'm going out there for.Why, Helen dear, I don't think you quite realize what this trip meansto us. If the deal goes through, and we get full control of all thatproperty, we'll all be as rich as Croesus. Just think, dear, 300,000square miles of the most wonderful diamond producing country. In tendays they found 400 beautifully clear stones, some of them weighingover a hundred carats. If the reports are true, we shall have a groupof mines as valuable as the famous De Beers group. Do you know whatthey have produced to date in actual money?"

  The young woman shook her head. Usually she was glad enough to listento her husband's business plans, but to-day they wearied her. Her mindwas too much preoccupied with something that concerned her far more.The idea of this coming separation, the knowledge that he was running arisk, had left her singularly depressed. She had tried to remain calmand control her emotion, but the effort was beyond her. The prospectof this separation, with its vague, undefined forebodings of disaster,was simply intolerable. The tears she was unable to restrain rolledsilently down her cheeks.

  He looked at her in surprise. Never had he seen her in this mood.Approaching her more closely, he said kindly:

  "That can't be the only reason, dear, what's the matter?"

  She hesitated a moment before she answered:

  "I'm very nervous to-day. I was dreadfully irritated last night at thedinner. I wish I hadn't gone-
---"

  "Who irritated you?"

  "That man Signor Keralio. I simply can't tolerate the man. How I hatehim!"

  "Why--what did he do?"

  "He did nothing. He wouldn't dare--there. But I wouldn't care to bealone with him. His eyes were enough. He imagines he is irresistible,and that every woman is immoral. That is the kind of man he is. Heannoyed me all evening. There was no getting away from him."

  Kenneth laughed and went back to finish his breakfast, quiteindifferent to what he had just heard. He knew his wife too well to beafraid of any number of Signor Keralios. Humming a tune, he saidcarelessly:

  "Why didn't you call me?"

  "What? Create a scandal? That would only make me ridiculous. Hewouldn't care. I can't bear the sight of the man, yet I have to bepolite to him."

  Kenneth nodded.

  "Yes--I have reasons for not caring to quarrel with Keralio just now."

  She looked up quickly.

  "Why? What is that man to you? He's your fencing master, I know, butthat's no reason for making a friend of him. I never understood whyyou associated with him. He is so different to you."

  Her husband smiled. He adored his wife and admired the sex in general,but, like most men, he had never had much respect for women's judgment.Women were made to be loved; not to discuss business with. Indulgentlyhe said:

  "My dear, you don't understand. I have important financial relationswith Keralio. I don't care for him myself, but one can't choose one'sbusiness associates. He and I are interested in a silver mine inMexico. Thanks to him, I got in on the ground floor. One of thesedays the investment will bring me a big return."

  His wife shrugged her shoulders. Incredulously she retorted:

  "Not if Keralio has anything to do with it. I don't trust him. He hasdeceit and evil written all over his face."

  Amused at her petulance, Kenneth jumped up impulsively and took hiswife in his arms.

  Abandoning herself willingly to his embrace, for a moment her head fellback on his broad shoulder, and she smiled up at him. From her soft,yielding form arose that subtle, familiar perfume, the intoxicating,vague, indefinable aroma of the well groomed woman that never fails toset a man's blood on fire. Bending low until his mouth touched hers,he kissed her until her face glowed under the ardor of his amativecaress. But to-day she was not in the mood to respond.

  "Don't--don't!" she panted, striving to free herself.

  "Admit that you're foolish or I'll do it again," he laughed.

  "Perhaps I am. It's selfish of me to make it harder for you to goaway."

  The butler reentered the room with the finger bowls, and she quicklydisengaged herself. To hide her confusion, she turned to the servant:

  "Did my sister go out, Robert?"

  "Yes, m'm," replied the man respectfully. "Miss Ray told me to tellyou in case you asked that she had gone shopping and would be backsoon."

  "Where's Miss Dorothy?"

  "The fraulein took her to the park, m'm."

  "When fraulein comes in, tell her to bring Dorothy upstairs."

  "Very well, m'm."

  The butler went out and Helen turned to her husband. Anxiously shesaid:

  "I've been a little worried about Dorothy lately. She's not lookingwell. I think she needs the country."

  Kenneth looked up quickly. Next to his wife he loved his flaxen hairedlittle girl better than anything in the world. There was a worriedlook on his face as he asked:

  "What does the doctor say?"

  "Oh, it's nothing to be alarmed at. Only she's growing fast, and needsall the air possible. I'm thinking of sending her to Aunt Carrie for awhile. You know she has a beautiful place in the suburbs ofPhiladelphia. She would be out in the air all the time."

  "Yes--that's a good idea. Send her there by all means. Write youraunt to-night."

  Helen glanced at the clock. There wasn't any time to lose. Turning toher husband she said quickly:

  "You had better come upstairs and finish your packing, dear. Yourtrunks aren't nearly ready and the expressman was ordered for three."

  Recalled thus abruptly to the day's duties, he turned docily andfollowed her upstairs.

  Beautiful as was the Traynor home below, it was in the library in thesecond floor that Helen always felt happiest and most at ease. Up thebroad, thickly carpeted stairs and turning to the right as the landingwas reached, they entered the library, a room of truly nobleproportions extending the entire width of the house and with deeprecessed windows and low seats, overlooking the park. The furnishings,though simple, were rich and luxurious. The woodwork was of blackFlemish oak, the ceiling beamed with a dull red background. Theupholstery was a rich red plush throughout, with deep seated armchairs,and sofas built close to the wall wherever space permitted. In thecorners, numerous electric reading lamps could be turned on or off atpleasure, constituting ideal nooks for reading. The furniture, apartfrom the red plush armchairs, was of black Flemish oak to match thewoodwork, with an immense richly carved black oak dark table in thecenter of the room, lighted by an electrolier of similar size anddesign to the one in the dining-room.

  It was in this room with its atmosphere of books so conducive to peaceand introspection that Helen loved to spend her spare time. The wallswere literally lined with tomes, dealing with every branch of humanknowledge--religion, science, philosophy, literature. Here when aloneshe enjoyed many an intellectual treat, browsing among the world'streasures of the mind. Even when her sister had a few intimates totea, or when friends dropped in in the evening, they always preferredbeing in the library to anywhere else.

  Only second to the library in the affection of its young mistress washer bed chamber with which it was connected by a small boudoir.Furnished in Louis XVI. style, it was a beautiful room, decorated inthe most dainty and delicate of tones. The bed, copied after MarieAntoinette's couch in the Little Trianon was in sculptured Circassianwalnut, upholstered in dull pink brocade, the broad canopy overheadbeing upheld by two flying cupids. The handsome dressing table withthree mirrors and chairs were of the same wood and period. On thefloor was a thick carpet especially woven to match the otherfurnishings.

  To-day, littered as it was with trunks and clothes, the room lacked itsusual sedateness and dignity, but Helen did not mind. She would havepreferred it to look far worse if only her loved one were not goingaway. His clothes lay scattered all over the floor. There was stillmuch to be done.

  Kenneth himself realized it as he ruefully surveyed the scene. Hurryhe must. A director's meeting to-night, the steamer sailing to-morrowand here he was not nearly ready. Helen could see no reason whyFrancois should not do the packing, but he insisted on doing ithimself, and was soon deep in the work of filling the trunks that stoodaround.

  While he worked, almost unconscious of her presence, she satdisconsolately on a trunk and watched him, and from time to time, as ifashamed to let him see her weakness, she turned her head aside tofurtively wipe away a tear. No doubt her misgivings were foolish.Husbands left their wives on business trips every day. Sensible womenwere not so silly as to cry over it. It was to be only temporary, sheknew that, yet her heart misgave her. She had tried to be resigned tothis South African journey, to accept it without protest, but herfeelings were too much for her. When she married Kenneth Traynor, theenergetic, prosperous Wall Street promoter, everybody knew that it wasa love match. Standing six feet two in his stockings, muscular,sinewy, without an ounce of superfluous fat, Kenneth Traynor looked asthough he could give a good account of himself no matter in what tightplace he found himself. His clean cut features and strong chin denotedstrength of character, his deep set blue eyes, a blue of a shade solight rarely seen except in the peasants of Normandy, beamed withfrankness and honesty, a kindly smile hovered about his smooth, firmmouth. What at once attracted attention was his hair which was darkand unusually thick and bushy and a peculiar characteristic was asolitary white lock in the center of his forehead. Such a p
henomenonof the capillary glands was not uncommon, but as a rule, the white hairis on the side of or at the back of the head. In Kenneth's case, itwas the very center of the forehead and imparted to his face anindividuality quite its own.

  When on leaving college, he had been forced, like other young men, tochoose a career, he was unable to decide what he wanted to do. Doctor,lawyer, architect, author--none of these suited his nervous, restlesstemperament. He craved a more exciting life, and at one time thoughtseriously of entering the army with the hope of seeing active servicein the Philippines. But Aguinaldo's surrender put a quietus on thisproject, and he entered a broker's office in Wall Street Here, in themaelstrom of frenzied finance, his pent up energies found an outlet.He went into the stock gambling game with the feverish energy of a borngambler. Months of excitement followed, luck being usually with him.He was successful. He doubled and tripled his capital, after which hehad good sense enough to stop, withdrawing from the fray before thetide turned. But he could not give up the life entirely. The businessof stock promotion was the next best substitute. It was about thattime he met the woman he married.

  It had been an ideal union in every way, but even Helen herself couldnot have guessed that day now three years ago when she left the churcha bride, how completely, how entirely this man whose sterlingqualities, good nature and charm of manner had won her heart, wouldtake complete possession of her, body and soul. Instead of the romanceflickering out after the first sudden blaze of fierce passion, as itusually does after the first few months of married life, on her side,at least, the flame had gathered in strength until now it was the onecompelling, all absorbing interest in her life.

  She recalled how they had first met. It was in the Winter time. Shewas skating in Central Park. A thaw had set in and the ice wasdangerous. Suddenly there was an ominous crack, and the crowd scurriedout of harm's way, all but one child, a little nine year old girl who,in her eagerness to escape, stumbled and fell. The next instant shewas in the water, disappearing under the ice. Just at that moment, atall athletic figure dashed swiftly to the hole and, stooping quickly,caught the child by the dress. Then, by a feat of almost superhumanstrength which awed the crowd into silence, he drew the little victimout to safety, not much the worse for her experience.

  Spellbound, hardly able to breathe from sheer excitement, Helen hadwatched the work of rescue. When the stranger, tall, muscular,handsome, passed her, carrying tenderly his burden, a human life savedfrom a watery grave, she could not help murmuring:

  "Oh, how brave of you!"

  "Nonsense," he retorted abruptly. "It's nothing to make a fuss about."

  She did not see him again for six months, and had almost forgotten theincident when one night at the opera during a performance of"Tannhauser," a man, tall, square shouldered, entered the box where shewas and was presented to her.

  "Helen--Mr. Traynor."

  It was her hero.

  He had remained her hero ever since.

  She remembered the afternoon when he had asked her to be his wife.They were alone in the library which overlooked the Park with itsbeautiful vista of green foliage, its glimpse of rolling lawns, andshimmering lakes. They were standing side by side, gazing idly out ofthe window, conversing quietly on all kinds of topics interesting tothem both. She was enjoying his vigorous, masculine point of view andfeeling strangely happy in his company.

  "When should a man marry?" he asked all at once.

  Startled for a moment at the abruptness of the question which nothingin their previous conversation had led up to, she answered gravely:

  "When he's tired of being alone and when he feels he has met the womanwith whom he can be happy, the kind of woman who will be a realhelpmate and aid him to achieve his ambitions."

  "How can he know that the woman to whom he is attracted will have thisinfluence in his life? How can he distinguish real gold from theimitation which merely glitters?"

  "Only by his instinct. That never errs."

  "And when in your opinion, should a woman marry?"

  "When she meets the man to whom she feels she can give herself withoutforfeiting her self-respect."

  He nodded approvingly, and looked at her for a few moments withoutspeaking. Outside it was growing dark, for which she was glad, for herface burned under the earnestness of his gaze. Finally he said:

  "You are right. But yours is a point of view the modern girl seldomtakes. First she discusses ways and means. Love, self respect--theseshe considers quite negligible."

  She protested.

  "Not all girls--only some girls. They are foolish virgins who leavetheir lamps untrimmed. They sow folly to-day only to reap unhappinessto-morrow."

  He said nothing and for a few moments they both stood there in theincreasing darkness. Suddenly, without a moment's warning, his voicebroken by emotion, he turned to her and said:

  "I am tired of being alone. I have met the woman with whom I could behappy, the woman who can help me to do big things. Helen, I want youto be my wife."

  She made no answer. She felt herself growing pale. A strange tremorpassed through her entire body.

  He came closer and took her unresisting hand.

  "Helen," he whispered, "I want you for my wife."

  Still no reply, but her small delicate hand remained clasped in hisbig, strong one, and gradually he drew her toward him until she was soclose in his embrace that he could feel her panting breath on his cheek.

  A strange thrill passed through him as he came in contact with hersoft, yielding body. She never wore corsets, preferring the clingingGrecian style of gowns that showed graceful lines and left the figurefree, and her form, slender yet firm and delicately chiseled like thatof some sculptured goddess, had none of that voluptuous grossness whichmars the symmetry of many women, otherwise beautiful.

  As she nestled there, pale and trembling in his strong arms, he did notdare move, for fear that he might unwittingly injure a being so frailand delicate. All his life Kenneth had lived a clean life. He had notled the riotous, licentious kind of existence which some men of hismeans and opportunities think necessary to their comfort. He had neverbeen a libertine. He had respected women; indeed, had rather avoidedthem.

  But if a man, busily engaged in the battle of life, his mind alwaysengrossed in serious affairs, succeeds in keeping natural instinctsunder control there comes a day when nature asserts herself, when hismanhood demands the satisfaction of legitimate cravings. This bachelorwho had lived a secluded, hermit-like kind of existence till he wasthirty was suddenly and violently awakened to the fact that he was madeof flesh and blood as are other men. This slim girl with her sweetways, her pretty face, her ready wit, had completely vanquished him,and not alone did she satisfy him mentally, she also attracted himphysically.

  He realized it now as he held her tight against his breast. Her headhad fallen on his shoulder. Her face with its pale, delicate profilewas turned toward him, the eyes half closed. The mouth, arched likeCupid's bow and partly open, disclosing the white, moistened teeth, andred and luscious like some rare exotic fruit, was tempting enough tomadden a saint. Kenneth was only human. Unable to resist, he loweredhis head until his mouth grazed hers and then with a wild, almostsavage exclamation of joy, the exultant cry of lust awakened andgratified, his lips met hers and lingered.

  To Helen it seemed as though she was in a dream of untold ecstasy.Always a shrinking, modest girl, especially in the company of theopposite sex, in any calmer moment she would have been shocked beyondexpression at this momentary abandonment she permitted herself. As shelay in this man's arms and felt his warm kisses on her lips, there cameover her a strange sensation she had never known before. She grewdizzy and for a moment thought she would faint. All at once hereleased her. Almost apologetically, he murmured:

  "Forgive me--I lost control over myself--I want you Helen--I want youfor my wife. Will you marry me?"

  She drew away and turned away her head, so he might not see her
burningcheeks.

  He persisted.

  "Will you marry me?"

  She hesitated a moment before replying. Then, very simply, sheanswered:

  "Yes, Kenneth."

  That was three years ago.