The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure

by H. B. Marriott Watson

  CHAPTER VIII

  Traveling to and from the diamond fields in the days immediatelyfollowing the first rush was not an unmixed joy. Express wagons drawnby eight horses or mules and running from Cape Town to Klipdrift once aweek charged passengers sixty dollars a head, the journey across theplains taking about eight days. Travelers whose business was so urgentthat they could not wait for the regular stage had to hire a team oftheir own at a much higher expense.

  Kenneth did not mind the cost, if only he was able to make good time.The trip to the mines had been accomplished without mishap. Everythinghad gone as well as could be desired. He had been successful insecuring valuable land options for the company, and at last the twoprecious stones were in his possession. That it was a bigresponsibility, he fully realized. The very knowledge that he had onhis person gems worth over a million dollars, and this in a wild,uncivilized country where at any moment he might be followed, ambushedand killed, and no one the wiser, was not calculated to calm hisnerves. But Kenneth Traynor had never known the meaning of the wordfear. He was ready for any emergency and he went about unarmed, cooland unruffled. From his demeanor at least no one could guess that heever gave a thought to the valuable consignment of which he was theguardian. Of course, it had been impossible to keep the thing secret.Everybody at the mines knew he had come out for the purpose of takingthe big stones to America. Even his drivers knew, and so did Francois.The news was public property and was eagerly discussed over every campfire as one of the sensations of the day. All this publicity did nottend to lessen the risk, and that was why he was so anxious to reachCape Town without the least possible delay. He had timed his departurefrom the mines so as to just catch the steamer for England, and now,after all his trouble and careful calculation, the fool mule drivershad gone and lost the trail. It was most exasperating.

  The wagon had come to a halt the night before under shelter of afair-sized kopjie. The mules, tormented by the deadly _tetse_ fly,stood whisking their tails and biting savagely at their hereditaryenemy; the drivers, indifferent and stolid, sat on the ground smokingtheir pipes, while Kenneth, fuming at this unlooked for mishap whichthreatened an even more serious delay, strode up and down the _veldt_,swearing at the mules, the stolid drivers and everything else in sight.

  Francois, who had left camp for assistance long before sunrise, had notyet returned. Unless help came soon they'd be held there anothernight. There was no use trying to proceed without a guide, for theymight find themselves going round and round in a circle. There wasnothing to do but wait until help came.

  Sitting down on the stump of a tree near the fire, he tried to possesshis soul in patience while one of the teamsters, who also officiated ascook, busied himself getting breakfast. It was now broad daylight; theweather clear and cold. As he sat there idly and smoked reflectively,his thoughts wandered homeward, four thousand miles across the seas.He wondered what Helen was doing, if little Dorothy was well, ifeverything was all right. Only now he realized what the word homemeant to him, and a chill ran through him as he thought of all thethings that could happen. Yet how foolish it was to worry. What couldhappen? Helen had her sister constantly with her, and she was welllooked after by Mr. Parker and Wilbur Steell. It was absurd to haveany anxiety on that score. Besides, if anything had gone wrong, theywould certainly have called him. He had had several letters fromHelen, all of them saying she and baby were well and waiting eagerlyfor his return. Yes, he would soon be home now. In another two dayshe would reach Cape Town. From there to Southampton was only afortnight's sail, and in another week he would be in New York.

  These and kindred thoughts of home ran through his mind as he satbefore the camp fire and tranquilly smoked his pipe. The drivers werebusying themselves cleaning the harness, the mules were docilelybrowsing, the air was filled by a fragrant odor of coffee. Hismemories went back to his boyhood days. He recalled what the old nursehad told him about a twin brother. How strange it would be if he everturned up. Such things were possible, of course, but hardly probable.No, the chances were that he was dead. If he had lived, how differenteverything might have been. He would have inherited half theirfather's money. What had been enough to start one so well in lifewould only have been a meagre provision for two. Yet it might havebeen an advantage, forced him to still greater effort. He might havegot even farther than he had--who knows?

  At that moment his reflections were interrupted by the sound of voicesin the distance. He heard some one running. One of the teamsters cameup hurriedly and exclaimed breathlessly:

  "He's found some one, sir; he's got two men with him. They're comingnow."

  Kenneth jumped up and, shading his eyes, looked out across the yellowwaste of stones and gravel. About a mile away he saw Francois,accompanied by two strangers, who looked like miners. They weretattered and miserable looking, as if down on their luck. One of themwas limping as if lame; the other, much taller, although ragged andforlorn, had a soldierly bearing and the appearance of a gentleman.The valet, who had been walking faster than his companions, came up atthat instant.

  "Who have you got there?" demanded Kenneth.

  "Two miners, monsieur. I found zem several miles away on ze _veldt_.They have tramped for days without food; they are starving."

  "Do they know the trail?"

  "Yes, monsieur. Ze big man knows ze trail. He will show ze way--for aconsideration."

  "Good! First give them some breakfast and then we'll go."

  He waved his hand in the direction of the cook's mess, where the coffeewas already steaming on the fire, and, turning away, began to gatherhis things together, preparatory to departure. There was no reason whyhe should have anything to say to the strangers. In fact, it would bebetter if they did not see him, or know who he was. It was possiblethat they had been at the mines when he arrived, in which case theywould instantly recognize him as the American who had come to take thebig diamonds to New York. Besides, they were not particularlyattractive objects. What did their adventures and mishaps matter tohim? He had troubles of his own. Francois could look after theirwants. The main thing was to find the trail and get started backtoward Cape Town as soon as possible. When the strangers had been fedthey would set out, and, the trail once found, he would give them alift on their way and a few sovereigns into the bargain. That wouldmore than compensate them for all their trouble.

  Meanwhile he thought he would take a quiet walk. His legs were stifffrom sitting so long. A little exercise would do him the world ofgood. So, without a word to anybody, he slipped out of camp unobservedand started off at a brisk gait.

  The region where they had halted seemed to be the center of Nowhere, aland where had reigned for all time the abomination of desolationspoken of by all the prophets. Knocking about the world, as he haddone for a lifetime, Kenneth had seen some queer spots in the world,but never had he come across so savagely repellent a spot as this. Itwas Nature in her harshest mood--not a vestige in any direction ofhuman or animal life. There was not a farm, not a Boer or Kaffir, noteven a tree to be seen. Nothing in every direction but a monotonouswaste of yellow sand, rough stones and stunted grass. An unnaturalstillness filled the air, making the silence oppressive, and uncanny.The soil was so poor that cultivation was impossible. The ground,strewn with broken rocks and sharp stones which cut the shoes and hurtthe feet, suggested that in prehistoric times the plateau had beenswept by a volcanic tempest. The slopes of the few scattered kopjieswere sparsely covered with verdure and as he strode along, he passedhere and there clumps of trees, veritable oases in the desert, or deepwater holes under overhanging rocks where under cover of night, strangebeasts came to drink. Apart from these few oases, it was a drearymonotonous waste of rock and sand, where neither beast or man couldfind food or shelter.

  He had walked about three miles and was just passing a kopjie where agroup of stunted trees offered a little shelter from the glare of thesun on the yellow gravel when he began to feel tired. Sitting
down ona decayed tree stump, he took out his pipe, removed his helmet, andlaying lazily back, closed his eyes, a favorite trick of his when hewished to concentrate his thoughts.

  The trip, tiresome as it was, had certainly been worth while. Hisambitious dreams had been more than realized. He could scarcely waitfor his arrival to tell Helen the good news. He had secured signaturesto a plan of consolidation of practically all the mining companiesoperating in South Africa. Until now, these companies had been engagedin a fierce and disastrous competition, which cut into each other'sprofits and cheapened the market price of stones. He had suggested ascheme of amalgamation which would put all the mines under onemanagement, and fix arbitrary prices for diamonds which henceforthcould not be sold under a certain figure agreed upon by the Syndicate.This plan, which had the general approval of the mining companies,practically gave Kenneth Traynor control of the diamond industry of theworld, an industry which in South Africa alone had already produced100,000,000 carats estimated to be worth $750,000,000. Overnight,Kenneth found himself many times a millionaire.

  It had come at last--what he waited for all these years. This newconsolidation deal meant great wealth to its promoters. What would hedo with it? Most men need only enough for their actual needs, but hehad higher aims. An ardent socialist he would use his money for thecause. Not, however, in the way others did, but to buy influence,power. He would fight Capitalism, in his own way. He would go intopolitics, run for public office, try and remedy some of the economicabuses from which people of the United States were now suffering. Hewould wage warfare on the high cost of living, on Greed and Graft. Hewould attack the Plutocracy in its stronghold, lay bare the innerworkings of the System, the concentration of the wealth of the entirecountry in the hands of a few, by which the rich each year werebecoming richer and the poor each year poorer. It would not be thefirst time a multi-millionaire had espoused the cause of theproletariat, but he would carry on the fight more vigorously thananyone had done. He would force an issue, make Greed disgorge itsill-gotten gains and accord to Labor its rightful place in the sun, itsproper share of the world's production of wealth. His sympathies inthe bitter struggle between the capitalists and the wage earners werewholly with the people who under the present wage system, had littlechance to raise themselves from the mire. But he was intelligentenough to realize that the faults were not all on the side of Capital.Labor, too, needed the curb at times. Too ready to listen to thereckless harangues of irresponsible professional demagogues, wageearners were often as tyrannical as capitalists, insisting onimpossible demands, rejecting sober compromise which, in the end, mustbe the basis of all amicable relations between employer and employed.

  For some time he sat there, giving free rein to his imagination, whensuddenly he fancied he heard the sound of heavy footsteps crunching onthe hard sand. Raising his head he looked quickly round but seeing noone, concluded he was mistaken. Looking at his watch, he was amazed tofind that he had been away from camp a whole hour. There was no timeto be lost. The men had certainly finished eating by now; they couldstart at once. Jumping up he turned round to retrace his steps thesame way he had come, when, suddenly, a shadow fell between him and thewhite road. Looking up, he was startled to see himself reflected as ina mirror against the green background of the kopjie.

  At first he thought he must be ill. The walk, the sun, the exposurehad no doubt overstimulated him and made him excited and feverish. Hewas seeing things. His success with the diamond deal had affected hisbrain. Of course, it was only an hallucination. The next time helooked this fantastic creation of his disordered mind would be gone.Again he glanced up in the direction of the kopjie. The apparition wasstill there, a horrible, monstrous, distortion of himself, standingstill, speechless, staring at him. That it was only a mirage therecould be no doubt. He had heard of such mirages at sea and also in theSahara where wandering Arabs have beheld long caravans journeying inthe skies. But he had never heard of a mirage lasting as long as thisone. Would it never disappear? It must be a nightmare which stillobsessed him. That was it. He had fallen asleep on the tree and wasnot yet awake. With an effort he made a step forward and tried toarticulate, but the words stuck in his throat. Suddenly the spell wasbroken by the apparition itself, which moved and spoke. He recognizedwho it was now--one of the strangers brought in by Francois--but thatastonishing likeness of himself--

  Judging by the astonished expression on his face, Handsome was just asmuch surprised as Kenneth at the encounter. After satisfying hishunger he, too, had strayed away from the camp, unable to control hisimpatience while the teamsters were harnessing the mule team. He hadleft Hickey to gorge still more while he strutted on by himself,cogitating on what the valet had told him in regard to the diamonds.This sudden meeting with the very man who had been uppermost in histhoughts was surprising enough, and instantly he, also, was struck withthe extraordinary resemblance between them.

  "Who the devil are you?" he demanded in surly tones.

  Thus rudely aroused to the reality, and seeing that it was really acreature of flesh and blood he had to deal with and not a creature ofanother world, Kenneth answered haughtily:

  "I'm not accustomed to being addressed in that manner."

  Handsome laughed mockingly. With affected politeness he retorted:

  "Your lordship's servant! What is his lordship's pleasure?"

  Kenneth did not hear the taunting reply or heed the sneer. He wasstill staring at this counterpart of himself, this very image yet whowas not himself, but a human derelict, a wretched, sodden outcast. Allat once, an overwhelming, horrible suggestion rushed across his brain.Could it be, was it--his long lost twin brother? Almost gasping, hedemanded:

  "Who are you?"

  Handsome chuckled.

  "I don't know."

  "What is your name?"

  The man chuckled.

  "They call me Handsome. That's because I'm a good looker. I have hada good many other names, but I've forgotten what they are. The policeknow. It's all in the records."

  "My God--a police record!"

  "What of it?" Bitterly he added: "We can't all be fine gentlemen andmillionaires."

  "Where are you from?"

  "Nowhere."

  "Who were your parents?"

  "Never had any that I know of."

  Kenneth started forward and, seizing the man's left hand, closelyexamined it. Yes, there was the scar on the index finger of the lefthand. No further doubt was possible. This was his brother. Handsome,meantime, had been watching the other's agitation with mingled interestand amusement.

  Hoarsely, Kenneth cried:

  "Where have you been all these years?"

  Handsome stared as if he thought his interlocutor had gone crazy.Almost angrily he retorted:

  "What d----d business is it of yours?"

  Paying no heed to the miner's offensive attitude, and anxious only tolearn something of his history, Kenneth approached him and held out hishand.

  "I wish to be your friend."

  Handsome drew back suspiciously. Always associated with evil himself,he looked for only evil from others. Bitterly he retorted:

  "My friend--what do your kind care for poor devils like me?"

  For answer, Kenneth removed his helmet, suddenly revealing the solitarylock of white hair. Handsome fell back in surprise. For the firsttime he realized the extraordinary resemblance. He had noticed amarked likeness before, but now the diamond promoter's helmet was off,it was positively startling. Hoarsely he exclaimed:

  "The devil! Who are you? You look just like----"

  Kenneth looked at him keenly for a moment. Then he said calmly:

  "Yes--I look just like you. No wonder. You are--my brother!"

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

  "Your brother?"

  "Yes--my brother. We are twins. You were kidnapped by gypsiesthirty-two years ago. Our old nurse told me the story for the firsttime the day before I sail
ed from New York. She also told me aboutthat scar on your hand. You cut it badly when you were a year old andthe scar has remained ever since. Everybody believed you dead. Wherehave you been all these years?"

  Handsome made no answer but fell back a few steps, and passed his handover his brow as if bewildered. This astonishing revelation had beenmade so suddenly that it had left him dazed. A wild, improbable tale,it seemed, yet perhaps there was some truth in it. He had never knownwho his parents were and it had always seemed to him that he came ofbetter stock than those with whom he associated. Then again, there wasthe ridiculous likeness. One had only to look at them both--it was thesame face.

  Slowly, gradually, as he looked more closely at Kenneth the convictiongrew stronger that this, indeed, was his brother, his own flesh andblood, yet it aroused within him no emotion and left him entirely cold.No impulse seized him to throw himself into this man's arms and embracehim. His heart was steeled against the world. Human affection andsympathy had dried up in his breast years ago. What he saw was not akinsman, a brother, but a man who had succeeded in life where he hadfailed, a man who was rich and happy while he was poor and miserable, aman who had everything while he had nothing. And if the tale weretrue, if indeed, he were this rich man's brother, it only made mattersworse, for he had been robbed of his rightful inheritance. This richman was enjoying wealth half of which rightfully belonged to him.

  Again Kenneth demanded:

  "Where have you been all these years?"

  "Here, there, everywhere," was the sullen answer. "London, Paris,Brussels, Vienna, New York, Boston, Chicago, Havana, Buenos Ayres. Iknow them all and they know me--perhaps too well. My earliestrecollection is of the Italian quarter in New York, a long narrowalways dirty street, bordered on either side by dilapidated greasytenements, ricketty fire escapes filled with biddy and garbage. Pietrolived there and kept his organ in the basement cellar. When Pietrowent out with the organ he took me along to excite sympathy. Until Iwas fifteen years old I begged to support Pietro. One day he beat meand I ran away and shipped as cabin boy on a sailing vessel bound forLiverpool. I reached London and found employment as stable boy atAscot. There I learned the fatal fascination of gambling. With what Isaved from my wages I bet on the horses. I won and won again. I wentback to London and frequented the gambling houses. I won, always won.One day there was a row. Someone complained I had cheated. The policearrested me. When I left jail I went to the continent and begangambling again. I have gambled ever since." Pointing in the directionof the mines he added bitterly:

  "That was my last gamble and I lost. That's all I have to tell."

  Kenneth listened with keen interest. When the other stopped speakinghe asked:

  "And now--what will you do?"

  Handsome shrugged his shoulders and made no answer. Kenneth went on:

  "You can't keep up the old life--that is impossible. You owe somethingto the blood that's running in your veins. There is only one thing foryou to do. You must break off with the past for good, and come homewith me. Are you known in New York?"

  Handsome shook his head.

  "No, I never returned there since I was a child."

  "Your operations in America were confined to San Francisco, Chicago andSt. Louis----"

  "Yes."

  Kenneth breathed more freely.

  "That makes matters easier. No one in New York, therefore, hasanything against you. There it will be possible to live down yourpast. You will cease being an outcast, a wanderer on the face of theearth. You will take the place in society for which Nature intendedyou."

  Handsome smiled cynically. Grimly he replied:

  "I guess Nature never expected much of me."

  "You never can tell," said Kenneth quickly. "Your environments nodoubt were responsible for your downfall. You have been a victim ofcircumstances."

  Handsome was silent. This free roving life had come second nature tohim. He looked with suspicion on any other. After a pause, he asked:

  "What can I do in New York?"

  "I will dress and house you like a gentleman. For a time you can makeyour home with us. If we find we can't agree, well--we'll part. Iwill find you employment----"

  Handsome laughed. Mockingly he said:

  "Then I am to be dependent on you----"

  "No--not on me----. On your own efforts. There is no reason why, ifgiven a chance, you will not make a success in the world. You arestill young and energetic. I will give you a start in any line youwish to enter. I will make you a present of $10,000. It should beenough capital to start in any business."

  Handsome shrugged his shoulders.

  "Charity?" he exclaimed.

  "No--not charity--brotherly affection."

  His brother laughed mockingly. Bitterly he exclaimed:

  "Maybe it's conscience money."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You inherited from our father, didn't you?"

  "Yes--but I've increased it a hundred-fold by my own efforts."

  "How much did he leave you?"

  "Twenty thousand dollars."

  "Why didn't he leave me some?"

  "He believed you dead. The sum I offer you is the sum you would haveinherited from our father had he known you were living. Do you accept?"

  Handsome was silent. His brain was working fast. What this manoffered him was the merest pittance. Put out at interest, it wouldgive him the princely income of $10 a week. What did he care for thegood opinion of the world? He had knocked about so long, roughing iteverywhere, that he might as well end as he had begun--an adventurer.Suddenly there flashed across his brain a wild, audacious idea--ascheme so fantastic, so fraught with adventure and peril that the verythought gave him a thrill. It involved violence, possibly a crime.Well, what of it? He was not the kind to be deterred by trifles. Thisman was nothing to him. Brotherly love, family ties--these were simplyphrases to one who had never known them. He knew and obeyed only oneinstinct--the fight for life, the survival of the fittest. Society hadwaged war on him; he would be merciless in his war on society. Thisman--this alleged brother, threw him a sop, insulted him by offeringhim charity. Why should he hesitate? It was his life or another's.There was a big prize to be won. Life was sweet when one has millionsto enjoy it with. This man had now on his person diamonds worth over amillion and he had more millions at home. Suppose something happenedto this man here in South Africa and he went home in his stead to takehis place in his household and enjoy his millions? Who would know thedifference?

  Impatient at the other's silence Kenneth demanded somewhat sharply:

  "Well--what do you say? Do you accept?"

  He looked straight at his _vis-a-vis_, but Handsome avoided his directgaze. He was silent for another moment as if reflecting. Then,slowly, he said:

  "Yes, I accept."