CHAPTER X
Eagerly, breathlessly, Helen tore open the cablegram.
It was late Saturday afternoon and she had been with Ray and Mr. Steellto see some paintings--a private view of a remarkable collection of oldmasters. After having tea at the Plaza they had taken a brisk walkthrough the Park, the lawyer insisting that the exercise would do themgood.
"It's just come, m'm," said the maid, holding out the thin envelope.
"Oh, it's from Kenneth!" exclaimed Ray excitedly, throwing down hermuff and running to look over her sister's shoulder.
For long, dreary weeks Helen had expected, and waited for, thismessage, and now it had come, she was almost afraid to read it. Therewere only a few words, cold and formal, the usual matter-of-fact,businesslike phraseology of the so-much-a-word telegram:
CAPE TOWN, Thursday (delay in transmission). Sail to-day on the_Abyssinia_. All's well. KEN.
"Is that all?" exclaimed Ray, disappointed.
Mr. Steell laughed.
"How much more do you expect at $2 a word?"
"Well, he might be a little more explicit," pouted Ray. "If I were hiswife, that wouldn't satisfy me."
Helen laughed lightly. Her eyes sparkling, her usually pale cheeksfilled with a ruddy color from her walk in the park, the lawyer thoughthe had never seen her looking so pretty.
"It satisfies me," she said, her face all lit up with joyousexcitement. "All I want to know is that he is safe and on his wayhome. The cablegram is dated Thursday. Then he's already on the waterthree days! I wonder why we didn't hear before?"
Mr. Steell glanced over her shoulder.
"The dispatch has been delayed. Don't you see? It says, 'delayed intransmission.'"
Helen turned round, her face radiant.
"When ought he to get here?"
The lawyer was silent for a moment as if calculating. Then, lookingup, he said:
"The _Abyssinia_ is not a very fast boat. I suppose she is the best hecould get. She's due at Southampton two weeks from to-day. A weekafter that, he ought to be in New York--providing nothing happens."
Helen, who was still reading and re-reading the cablegram, looked upquickly. With a note of alarm in her voice, she exclaimed:
"Providing nothing happens! What could happen?"
"Oh, nothing serious, of course. In these days of the wireless nothingever happens to steamers. One is safer traveling on the sea than onland. I didn't mean anything serious, but merely that sometimes boatsare delayed by bad weather or by fog. That prevents them arriving onschedule time."
Almost three months had slipped by since Kenneth's departure from NewYork. To Helen it had seemed so many years. She had tried to becontented and happy for Ray's sake. She entertained a good deal,giving dinner and theater parties, keeping open house, playinggraciously the role of chatelaine in the absence of her lord, to alloutward appearances as gay and light-hearted as ever. Only Ray and herimmediate friends knew that the gayety was forced.
The poison had done its deadly work. The few words uttered by SignorKeralio that afternoon shortly after her husband's departure had burntdeep into her mind like letters of fire. Well she guessed the objectof the wily Italian in speaking as he did. It availed him nothing, andshe only despised him the more. It was cowardly, contemptible, and,from such a source, absolutely unworthy of belief. Yet secretly itworried her just the same. She had always considered Kenneth's life anopen book. She thought she knew his every action, his every thought.The mere suggestion that her husband might have other interests, otherattachments of which she knew nothing took her so by surprise that shewas disarmed, powerless to answer. The innuendo that he might beunfaithful had gone through her heart like a knife. Of course it wasquite ridiculous. He was not that kind of man. It was true he hadoften gone away on trips that seemed unnecessary, and now she came tothink of it Kenneth's absences had of late been both frequent andmysterious. Then, too, she had no idea of the extent of his operationsin Wall Street. She knew he bought and sold stocks sometimes. That isonly what every investor does. But it was incredible that he wasinvolved to the extent Keralio said he was. She knew he was ambitiousto acquire wealth, but that he would take such fearful risks andjeopardize funds which, after all, belonged, not to him, but to thestockholders--that was impossible. It was a horrible libel.
Still another cause for worry was the health of her little daughter,Dorothy. Nothing ailed the child particularly, but she was not well.The doctor said nothing was the matter, but a slight temperaturepersisted, together with a cough which, naturally, alarmed the youngmother out of all proportion to the seriousness of the case. Thedoctor also advised a change of air, so Helen at once made arrangementsto send her little daughter to Philadelphia, where, in Aunt Carrie'sbeautiful house, she would have the best air and attention in theworld. Aunt Carrie came to New York to fetch the child, and, as shestayed a couple of weeks sight-seeing and visiting friends that alsohelped to keep Helen busy.
"I do wish that I didn't have such a worrying disposition"--she laughednervously after the lawyer had been at some pains to assure her aboutthe sea-worthiness of the _Abyssinia_. "Really, it makes me sounhappy, but I simply can't help it. The other day it was baby whomade me terribly anxious; now it is Kenneth's home-coming. I must seemvery foolish to you all."
Ray quickly protested.
"You sweet thing--how could you look foolish? What an idea! Onlyplease don't worry, dear. I never do."
Mr. Steell nodded sympathetically.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Mrs. Traynor. It shows you have afine, sensitive nature. It is only the grosser natures that arecallous and unaffected by the anxieties of life."
Taking the remarks to herself, Ray threw up her head indignantly.
"I deny the imputation that I'm gross."
The lawyer laughed.
"You are far too healthy to worry. Moreover, you have nothing to worryabout. If a man you loved were six thousand miles away----"
"Yes," interrupted Helen; "that's it. Only those who care for eachother can understand----"
"Oh, of course!" retorted her sister, flaring up. "We spinsters,belonging, as we do, to the sisterhood of the Great Unloved, are quiteincompetent to express an intelligent opinion on that or on any othermatter. I grant that, but is Mr. Steell, a confirmed old bachelor, anymore competent than I?"
"Hardly an old bachelor!" interrupted Helen reprovingly.
"No--middle-aged bachelor!" corrected Ray saucily. "He never cared fora woman in his life. He----"
"Who told you so?" inquired the lawyer quickly, with an amused twinklein his eye.
Ray colored visibly.
"Oh, I judge so," she stammered. "You never speak of that sort ofthing. One can only draw conclusions."
"The conclusions may be wrong," he replied gravely. "My life is a verybusy one. I have had no time to think of anything outside my immediatework. Yet I am human. I sometimes yearn for the companionship of agood woman. A pretty face attracts me, as it does other men, but, inmy opinion, any such attachment is too serious a matter to be treatedlightly. When a man feels deeply he keeps his own confidence until themoment comes when he can unburden himself and say what is in his heart."
"I like that," said Helen, nodding her head approvingly.
Ray jumped up to conceal her embarrassment.
"Oh, how terribly serious you two are to-day!" she exclaimed. "Ideclare I'll run away unless you cheer up a bit. Suppose I get sometea?"
"Excellent idea!" laughed the lawyer.
Ray touched a bell, and went to clear a small side table, which shedrew up near where they were sitting.
"There!" she exclaimed, smiling roguishly at the lawyer. "Don't youthink I'm smart?"
"Of course we do." Lowering his voice he added significantly: "Atleast I do."
Apparently the compliment fell on deaf ears, for, turning her headaway, she said quickly:
"Please don't be sarcastic."
More seriously, and in the same tone, that even Helen, who was only ashort distance away, could not hear, he said:
"I'm never sarcastic. I think you are all a woman should be."
"Do you mean that?"
"I do. I have thought it for a long time."
"Really?"
"Really."
The young girl colored with pleasure. For all her sophisticated andindependent manner she was still a child at heart. She had no thoughtsof marriage, but it flattered her to think that she had the power toattract and interest this serious, brilliant man of the world. Shesaid nothing more, relapsing into a meditative silence as she busiedherself helping the maid to set out the tea table.
To Helen it was a source of keen satisfaction to notice the attentionwhich the brilliant young lawyer was paying her sister. She had longrecognized his sterling qualities. He was a man of whom any womanmight well be proud. He could not but make a good husband. Next toKenneth and her baby no one was dearer to her than Ray and, since theirmother died, she had felt a certain sense of responsibility. To seeher well and happily married was the one secret wish of her life.
But overshadowing these preoccupations at present were those other newanxieties which preyed upon her sensitive mind with all the force of anobsession. Was there any part of her husband's life that he had hiddenfrom her? Was he really as loyal as she had always fondly and blindlybelieved; had his ambition led him to take grave financial risks thatmight one day jeopardize their comfort and happiness, the very futureof their child?
Ray rose to put away the tea table, and she found herself sitting alonewith the lawyer. There was a moment's silence, and then, as ifthinking out aloud what was on her mind, she said:
"Thank God, he's safe; I had the most fearful premonitions----"
The lawyer laughed.
"Don't put your trust in premonitions--things happen or they don'thappen. It's absurd to believe that misfortunes are all preparedbeforehand."
"Then you are not a fatalist?"
"Decidedly not. I hope I have too much intelligence to believe inanything so foolish."
"Do you believe in a Supreme Being who has the same power to suddenlysnuff us out of existence as he had to create us?"
"I neither believe nor disbelieve. Frankly, I do not know. Whatpeople call God, Jehovah, Nature, according to my reasoning, is anastounding energy, a marvellous chemical process, created andcontrolled by some unknown, stupendous first cause, the origin of whichman may never understand. How should he? He has not time. We arerushed into the world without preparation. We are ignorant, helpless,blind. Gradually, by dint of much physical labor and mental toil, wesucceed in ferreting out a few facts regarding ourselves and thephysical laws that govern us. We are just on the verge of discoveringmore--we are just beginning to understand and enjoy life--when suddenlywe find ourselves growing old and decrepit. Our physical and mentalpowers fail us, and the same force that benevolently created us nowmercilessly destroys us, and we are hurled, willy-nilly, back intoeternity whence we came. Rather absurd, isn't it?"
Intensely interested Helen looked up. Eagerly she exclaimed:
"You have a whole system of philosophy in a mere handful of words,haven't you?"
He smiled.
"It's all one needs, and perhaps as good as those more complicated andmore verbose."
More seriously and lowering her voice so Ray, who was still busy at theother end of the room, might not overhear, she said:
"Mr. Steell--you are so clever--you know all about everything. Tellme, do you know anything about Wall Street?"
The ingenuousness of the question amused him. With a laugh he answered:
"A little--to my sorrow."
"It's a dangerous place, isn't it?"
"Very; it has a graveyard at one end, the East River at the other, twoplaces highly convenient at times to those who play the game."
"If luck goes against him, a man could lose his all, then?"
"Not only his all but the all of others, too--if he's that kind of aman."
She was silent for a moment. Then she continued:
"And sometimes even fine, honest men are tempted, are they not, togamble with money which is not theirs?"
"Many have done so. The prisons are full of them. There is nothing sodangerous as the get-rich-quick fever. All the men who gamble instocks have it. It becomes a mania, an obsession. Their judgmentbecomes warped; they lose all sense of right and wrong."
"There's something else I want to ask you. What do you think of SignorKeralio?"
He hesitated a moment before he answered. Then, with some warmth, hesaid:
"As I told you before, I think he's a crook, only we can't prove it.I've been looking up his record. It's a bad one. The fellow hasbehaved himself so far in New York, but out West he is known undervarious names as one of the slickest rogues that ever escaped hanging.At one time he was the chief of a band of international crooks andblackmailers that operated in London, Paris, Buenos Ayres, and the Cityof Mexico. The scheme they usually worked was to get some prominentman so badly compromised that he would pay any amount to save himselffrom exposure, and they played so successfully on the fears of theirvictims that they were usually successful."
A worried look came into the young wife's face. Perhaps there was morein Signor Keralio's relations with her husband than she had suspected.Quickly she asked:
"Why do they permit a man of that character to be at large?"
The lawyer shrugged his shoulders.
"You can't proceed against a man unless there is some specific chargemade. The police have nothing now against him. He may have reformedfor all I know. But that was his record some years ago."
"I don't think he'll dare come here again," went on Helen. "He'sexceedingly offensive, and yet he has about him a certain magnetismthat compels your attention, even while his manner and look repels andirritates. Only the other day he----"
Before she could complete the sentence, there was a loud ring at thefront door bell. Helen hastily rose, but Ray had already gone forward.
"It's Mr. Parker," she cried. "I saw him coming from the window."
The next instant the door of the drawing-room was flung open and Mr.Parker appeared.
"Hallo, ladies! Howdy, Steell!"
The president of the Americo-African Mining Company was not looking hisusual debonair self that evening. His manner was nervous andflustered, his face pale and drawn with anxious lines. His coat lackedthe customary boutonniere, and his crumpled linen and unshaved chinsuggested that he had come direct from his office after a strenuous daywithout stopping to go through the formality of making a change ofattire.
Helen was quick to note the alteration in his appearance, and her firstinstinct, naturally, was to associate it with her husband. Somethingwas amiss.
"There's nothing wrong, is there?" she asked in alarm.
"No, no, my dear woman!"
But his tone was not convincing. He always called her "my dear woman"when nervous or excited, and "my dear lady" in his calmer moods. Sheat once remarked it, and it did not tend to reassure her. Now greatlyalarmed she laid a trembling hand on his arm.
"Tell me, please! Don't hide anything from me. Has anything happenedto Kenneth?"
"No--no; of course not." Quickly changing the subject he asked: "Yougot a message."
"Yes--a cablegram. It came just now."
"Have you got it? Let me see it."
"Yes, certainly," said Helen, looking around for the dispatch. Unableto find it, she called to her sister.
"Ray, dear, what did you do with Kenneth's cablegram?"
Her sister came up to assist in the search, in which even Mr. Steelljoined. But the search was fruitless. The cablegram had disappeared.
"Oh, I know!" suddenly exclaimed Ray. "It must have been carried awaywith the tea things."
"That's right! I never thought of that!" said Helen.
The next instant the two women hurried
out of the room in the directionof the kitchen.
The instant they had disappeared Mr. Parker turned to the lawyer. In awhisper he said:
"There is terrible news! I don't know how to break it to the poorwoman----"
Steell sprang forward. Anxiously he exclaimed:
"Terrible news? Surely not----"
The president nodded.
"Yes--all lost, and the diamonds, too. A dispatch just received inLondon says that, according to a wireless relayed from Cape Town, the_Abyssinia_ caught fire twelve hours after sailing from that port andall on board perished. It is shocking, and the pecuniary loss to usdisastrous. The stones were not insured. Hush! Here they come. Nota word!"
"My God!" muttered the lawyer, as he fell back and turned away, so theymight not see the effect which the shocking news had made on him. Withan effort he managed to control himself.
The two women entered the room joyfully.
"Here it is!" cried Helen exultantly, as she brandished the missingtelegram. "You see, he's just sailed, and all's well."
The president said nothing, but, taking the dispatch from her hands,slowly read it. Nodding his head, he said slowly:
"Yes--he's just sailed, and--all's well."
"When do you think he'll be here?" questioned the young hostess,looking anxiously up into his face.
The president shook his head.
"That is hard to tell," he answered evasively.
Mr. Steell had gone to the window, where he stood looking out, idlydrumming his fingers on the pane. How was it possible to break suchfearful tidings as that? What a horrible calamity! He wished himselfa hundred miles away, yet some one must tell her. At that momentshrill cries arose in the street outside--the familiar, distressing,almost exultant cries of news-venders, glad of any calamity that puts afew nickels into their pockets.
"_Ex-tra! Ex-tra! Special ex-tra!_"
"What's that?" exclaimed Helen apprehensively. The sound of specialeditions always filled her with anxiety, especially since Kenneth'sdeparture.
"_Ex-tra! Ex-tra! Special edition! Ex-tra! Big steamer gone down.Great loss of life. Extra!_"
Her face was pale, as she turned and looked at the others, who alsostood in silence, listening to the hoarse accents of distress.
"A steamer gone down!" she faltered. "Isn't that terrible? I wonderwhat steamer it was."
Ray ran to the door.
"I'll get a paper," she said.
Before Mr. Parker or Mr. Steell could prevent her the young girl hadopened the front door. Now there was no way of preventing Helenknowing. The best thing was to prepare her gently.
"My dear Mrs. Traynor--I didn't tell you the trouble just now. Therehas been a little trouble. The _Abyssinia_----"
Helen gave a cry of anguish.
"I knew it! I knew it! Kenneth is dead!"
"No, no, my dear lady. These newspaper reports are always grosslyexaggerated. The _Abyssinia_ has met with a little trouble--nothingvery serious, I assure you. Everything is all right, no doubt. Yourhusband is well able to take care of himself. We may hear from him anymoment, reassuring us as to his safety."
His words of comfort went unheeded. Her face white as death Helentottered rather than walked to the door, reaching it just as Ray,almost as pale, entered, reading the paper she had just purchased. Onseeing her sister she instinctively made an effort to hide the sheet,but Helen quickly snatched it out of her hand. Her hand trembling soviolently that she could scarcely make out the letters she glanced atthe big scare-head, printed in red ink, to imitate blood, a mercifulcustom sensational newspapers have of making the most of the agony ofothers.
S. S. ABYSSINIA GONE DOWN! ALL PERISH!
For a moment she stood still, looking at the big type with open,staring eyes. Then, with a low cry, like a wounded animal, she let thepaper slip from her nerveless fingers. There was a furious throbbingat her temples: her heart seemed to stop. The room spun round, and shefainted just as Steell rushed forward to catch her in his arms.
"Brandy! Brandy!" he shouted. "She's fainted!"
While Ray ran for the smelling salts and Mr. Parker was bringing thebrandy there came another vigorous pull at the bell. An instant laterthe maid entered with a cablegram, which Mr. Parker seized and toreopen. As he read the contents, a look of the greatest surprise and joylit up his face.
"Look at this!" he cried.
"What is it?" demanded Steell, still on his knees trying to revive theunconscious woman.
"This will do her more good than all your brandy."
"What is it?" cried Ray impatiently.
"He's safe!" cried Mr. Parker exultantly.
"Safe!" they all cried.
"Yes--safe." Handing the dispatch to the lawyer, he added: "Here--readthis."
Steell took the dispatch and read:
CAPE TOWN, Saturday: Miraculously saved. Sail to-morrow on the_Zanzibar_. KENNETH.
The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure Page 10
