The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure

by H. B. Marriott Watson

  CHAPTER XV

  The last guest had gone. One by one the lights in the Traynorresidence were extinguished. The servants, tired after an exciting andstrenuous day, had gone to their quarters.

  In the hall downstairs, the grandfather's clock rang out its musicalchimes and then, in ponderous tones, slowly struck the twelve hours ofmidnight.

  The master of the house was sitting at the desk in the library, lookingover some papers. From time to time he glanced significantly, first atthe clock and then at the corner where Helen and Ray were chatting overthe events of the day. At last the young girl took the hint. Jumpingup, she exclaimed good naturedly:

  "How selfish I am to be sitting gossiping here when poor Kenneth is sotired. Go to bed, both of you. I'm so sleepy myself I can hardly keepawake. Good night!"

  "Good night, dear!" said Helen, rising and kissing her.

  "Good night, Ken! Pleasant dreams," cried the young girl as she leftthe room.

  "Good night!" he responded hoarsely.

  The sound of her footsteps died away in the distance and Helen and thegambler sat there in silence. He watched her furtively, trying toguess the trend of her thoughts, his eyes bloodshot with wine, feastingon every line of her girlish figure.

  Never had she looked more beautiful, more desirable, than this evening.Her _decollete_ gown revealed a white, plump neck, her lips were redand tempting, her large dark eyes fairly sparkled from excitement. Itwas a vision to distract a saint and Handsome was no saint. It wasindeed only with the greatest difficulty that he curbed his impatienceto carry off the prize that lay within his grasp.

  "Are you tired," he said at last. "Do you want to go to bed?"

  "Not very," she answered. "I'm too excited to sleep. Hasn't it beenan exciting day?"

  He made no reply, pretending to be occupied at the desk, and sherelapsed into a dream silence, glad of a few quiet, peaceful moments tobe alone with her thoughts. How good it was to have him home again!Now she could be at peace once more and enjoy life as she used to. Shecould go to the opera, to the theater. The days would not be somonotonous. She wondered why she was still unable to shake off thefeeling of anxiety and apprehension which had haunted her ever since hewent away. With a devoted husband safe at her side, what reason hadshe for feeling depressed? Yet, for some reason she was unable toexplain, she was not able even now to throw off her melancholy andpresentiment of danger.

  There recurred to her mind what Signor Keralio had said, his veiled,ambiguous words of warning. Could it be true, was it possible that herhusband had deceived her all these years and unsuspected by her, hadled a double life of deceit and disloyalty? Certainly there was muchthat needed explanation. The loss of the diamonds did not directlyconcern her, although she felt that, too, was part of the mystery. Buthis strange aloofness of manner, his inexplicable loss of memory andnervousness, the frenzied outburst when she had mentioned Keralio'sname that afternoon, the sudden craving for drink--was not all this tosome extent, corroboration of what the fencing master has told her?She thought she would question him, speak to him openly, frankly, as aloyal wife should the man she loves, and give him an opportunity toexplain. Now was as good a time as ever. Looking up she said abruptly:

  "Signor Keralio was here while you were away. I started telling youthis afternoon, but you got so excited----"

  Making a deprecatory gesture with his hand he said indifferently:

  "That's all right. I was tired and nervous. I'm quieter now. Whatdid Keralio have to say?"

  "Nothing worth listening to. He never says anything but impertinences."

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  "You mustn't take him too seriously."

  Hotly she retorted:

  "He takes himself too seriously. If he only knew how repellent he isto a decent woman he would cease to annoy me."

  He laughed.

  "Oh, Keralio's not a bad sort--when you get to know him. Thoseforeigners think nothing of making love to a woman----"

  "I don't want to know him," she retorted with spirit, "and what's more,I don't want him coming here. One evening he was so insulting that Ihad to show him the door. He had the impudence to come again. So Ihad my servant put him out. You won't invite him here again, will you?"

  He was silent, while she sat watching him, amazed that he did not atonce fiercely resent the insult done her in his absence. After apause, he said awkwardly:

  "I don't invite him. Keralio's the kind of a chap who invites himself."

  "But can't you put him out?" she demanded with growing irritation.

  "No--I can't," he answered doggedly.

  "Why?" she demanded firmly.

  "I can't--that's all!"

  She looked at him wonderingly, and the color came and went in her faceand neck. There was a note almost of contempt in her voice as shedemanded:

  "What is the hold this creature has on you? Is it something you areashamed of?"

  The blood surged to his face and the veins stood out on his templeslike whipcord. Another instant and it had receded, leaving him ghastlypale.

  "We have business interests in common, that's all," he said hastily andapologetically. "He has been very useful to me. I don't like him anymore than you do, but in business one can't criticize too closely themanners or morals of one's associates."

  "No, but a man can prevent his associates from annoying his wife."

  He made no answer, but toyed nervously with a paper cutter. Determinedto get at the truth, she went on:

  "What business interests can you have together? Is it legitimatebusiness or merely stock gambling?"

  "What do you mean?"

  Rising from the divan, she went toward him. Earnestly, she said:

  "Kenneth, I've wanted to speak to you about this matter for a longtime. During your absence I've heard rumors. Things have beeninsinuated. A hint has been dropped here, gossip has been overheardthere--all to the effect that you are heavily involved in Wall Street.Is it true?"

  For a moment he was silent, at a loss what to answer. He could notimagine the reason for the questioning or where it might lead him, butinstinct warned him that it was dangerous ground and that caution wasnecessary. Why hadn't Francois told him of his brother's Wall Streetoperations? It would never do to show himself entirely ignorant ofthem. If such rumors existed, there was probably some basis of them.No doubt his brother had played the market and kept from his wife theextent of his losses.

  "Is it true?" she repeated.

  He shrugged his shoulders. Nonchalantly, he replied:

  "Never believe all you hear!"

  Her face lit up with pleasure.

  "Really?" she exclaimed. "It isn't true?"

  "Not a word of it. I have money invested in stocks and bonds, butanyone who accuses me of wild cat speculation is guilty of telling whatI would very politely call a d----d lie!"

  Reassured more by his ease and carelessness of manner than by hisactual words of denial, the young wife gave an exclamation of delight.

  "Oh, I'm so glad!" she exclaimed. "You've no idea how relieved I feel.It was worrying me terribly to feel that you might be in difficultiesand had not thought enough of me to take me into your confidence."Looking at him appealingly she added:

  "You will always confide in me, won't you Ken?"

  "Sure I will, sweetheart----"

  Trembling with the ardor he was trying to control he seized hold of herhand and drew her on to his knee. She offered no resistance, butpassively sat there, clasped against his broad shoulder, her faceradiant with happiness at the load which his words had taken off hermind.

  Putting his arm round her waist, he leaned forward as if to kiss her,but drawing quickly back she said:

  "There's still something else I must ask you before my happiness isquite complete."

  "What's that?" he demanded, impatient at these continual interruptionsto his amorous advances.

  Turning she looked steadily into his face, as if trying
to read thetruth or falsity of his answer. She could not see his eyes, veiled asthey were by the glasses, but that sensitive mouth she knew so well,that determined chin, that high forehead crowned by the bushy brownhair with its solitary white lock--all these were as dear to her asthey had always been. To think that he might have fondled some otherwoman as he was now fondling her was intolerable agony.

  "Kenneth," she said slowly and impressively, "are you sure that thereis no part of your life that you have kept hidden from me?"

  He started and for a moment changed color. What did she mean? Was itpossible that she suspected the substitution, or was she alluding tosome past history of his brother's life, of which he knew nothing?Evasively, he answered:

  "Why all these question, sweetheart, the first day I come home. Isthis the kind of welcome you promised me, the one I had a right toexpect. I am very tired. Let us go to bed."

  His arm still around her, he again drew her to him and, stooping, triedto reach her mouth with his own. But again she resisted, her mind toodisturbed by jealousy to be in a mood to respond to his wooing. Gentlyshe said:

  "I know you are tired, Ken. I am tired, too,--tired of all theserumors and slanderous insinuations. I have been made unhappy byhearing this gossip. It is my right to tell you what I have heard andask for a straightforward, loyal explanation. I know you are true tome. I have never doubted it for an instant. I only want a word fromyou to forget what I've heard and dismiss the matter from my mindforever."

  He looked at her, an amused kind of expression playing about thecorners of his mouth. It was only with an effort that he controlledthe muscles of his face. What a comedy, he thought to himself! Herewas this sweet little woman breaking her heart over something which, asfar as he knew, didn't exist. But he must continue to play his part,no matter at what cost. Evidently, she had heard something for whichthere might be some basis of truth. She might even have proofs of hisbrother's infidelity, and ready to produce them. Too sweeping a denialmight still further complicate matters, arouse suspicion, and end inexposure. Cautiously, he replied:

  "You know all there is in my life, sweetheart. I never concealanything from you."

  Looking searchingly at him, she demanded:

  "Never?"

  "Never."

  "Has there been another woman in your life, Kenneth, since you marriedme?"

  "No, sweetheart--never. If anyone told you that or even insinuated it,he was a scoundrel. It's a damned lie! You are and always will be theonly one----"

  Her head fell back on his shoulder.

  "Then I am completely happy!" she murmured.

  His arms folded about her and she felt his warm breath on her cheek.But this time she did not resist. It felt good to be sheltered therein those strong arms against the attacks and calumnies of the world.

  "It is late," he murmured.

  Suddenly, he threw her head back and bending down till his mouthreached hers he kissed her full on the lips. She did not resist, butjust abandoned herself, responding only feebly to the fierce passionthat made him tremble like a leaf. His face flushed, his handsshaking, he murmured:

  "It is very late. Are you not tired?"

  "No dear--I'm not tired. There's no hurry. We needn't get up earlyto-morrow. It's so beautiful here--sitting together like this--sohappy in each other's company."

  "But I am tired," he said, trying to control his emotion.

  It was almost more than he could endure, yet still he mastered himself,and resisted the temptation that arose violently within him to take herby force, if needs be, and carry her into the inner room, as the wildbeast, tiring of playing with its victim, suddenly ends the game byseizing its hapless prey and drags it away to its lair. Was he not themaster? Why should he allow her childish prattle to stand in the wayof his desires. For years, Handsome had not known female society savethat of those wretched outcasts who infest the mining camps. He hadcaroused with them and quarreled with them. He had even loved one ofthem--after the rough and ready fashion of the _veldt_. She was aSpaniard, a tall handsome woman, with large black eyes and the temperof a fury. She had killed her husband in a drunken brawl, and onleaving prison had gone to South Africa. She met the gambler one nightin a gambling house, and, without as much as asking for anintroduction, she went up to him and, in a characteristic Spanishstyle, gave him a hearty kiss on both cheeks. It was her way ofnotifying her female associates that, henceforth, the big miner was herman. Handsome accepted the challenge, and for a couple of years theylived as happily together as can two adventurers who are in constanthot water with the police. One day, in a fit of drunken jealousy, shestruck him. Furious with rage, he seized her by the neck. He did notmean to harm her; it was his giant strength that was to blame. Anyhowher neck was broken and the coroner called it an accident. For a weekor so, Handsome was really sorry. She was the only woman he had evercared for. She at least was a woman.

  But this slip of a girl, with her childish prattle and aristocraticairs, was quite different. Accustomed to the rougher ways of the camp,her fine manners and refined graces at first had rather intimidatedhim. He did not feel at home with her. He felt awkward and ill atease. Yet, for all that, she was a woman, too--a woman of his ownrace, desirable, tempting. When Francois had first suggested that heimpersonate his brother and enjoy his fortune, he had said nothingabout his brother's wife. Perhaps he reserved her for his master,Keralio. At the thought, a pang of jealousy went through him. IfKeralio, why not he? Evidently Keralio had been stalking the game, forshe complained of his conduct and had dismissed him from the house.Yet, in what position was he to frustrate Keralio in any of hisschemes? He had him in his power; he was completely at his mercy. Heallowed him to masquerade in New York as the millionaire, but he wasthe real master of the Traynor home. Even now, Francois might bespying on their actions, eager to report to the arch conspirator.Rising from the chair, he lifted her to her feet.

  "Come, darling--it is late----"

  He led her slowly, almost imperceptibly, in the direction of the innerroom. A feeling of languor came over her, and she allowed him to leadher, abandoning herself to his ardent, feverish embrace, respondingevery now and then to the hot kisses he rained on her mouth and neck.Through her thin dress he could feel her soft form pressing againsthim. From her neck arose a delicious aroma, a kind of feminine incensethat still further aroused and lashed his desire.

  "I adore you--I adore you!" he murmured, as he kissed her again.Slowly he led her past the bookcase and marble Venus to the open doorof her pink and white boudoir.

  "I adore you--I adore you" he murmured, as he kissed heragain.]

  She looked up at him in surprise.

  "How you love me!" she murmured. "You never used to care for me likethis."

  Her head on his shoulder, her eyes half closed, she was conscious onlyof the presence of the man she loved better than anyone in the world.

  Yet even now, in the hour of her supreme content and felicity, when allher tormenting anxieties and doubts had been dissipated by his frankwords of denial, there was still something that worried her. He waschanged somehow, even in his love making. It was delicious to be lovedpassionately, fiercely, like this--to be carried off by force, as itwere, by your own husband. But she did not understand how a man couldchange so much in a few weeks. Kenneth had always loved her deeply,but never had she known him display such ardor as this. She had heardthat men change, particularly after long absences from home. Some, shehad heard, became colder; others were more demonstrative. Of the two,she thought the latter preferable. If there was such love in theworld, why should it not be shown her. Her own temperament was cold,but no woman could but feel flattered that she possessed the power toarouse men to such passion.

  At last they had reached the threshold of the boudoir. What to him wasan earthly paradise, was almost attained. In a state of blissfulhelplessness, intoxicated by a delicious sensation of being completelydominated by a will stronger than
her own, she permitted him to takeher where he wished. Her eyes closed, her head on his shoulder, shesubmitted willingly to his fervent kisses. Another moment and he hadclosed the door behind them, when, suddenly, a commotion on the landingoutside the library aroused both with a start. There was the sound ofvoices and people running up the stairs.

  "What's that?" exclaimed Helen startled.

  Irritated at this unlooked for interruption, the gambler went quicklytoward the landing to investigate. Francois met him at the librarydoor. In his hand he held an envelope. Holding it out, he said:

  "A telegram for Madame!"

  "A telegram!" cried Helen, rushing forward. "Good God, I hope Dorothyis not----"

  She tore it open, while Handsome stood by in silence. On the valet'sface there was a triumphant expression, the gratified smile of onerogue who enjoys the discomfiture of another.

  Helen suddenly gave a cry.

  "It's as I thought!" she exclaimed. "Dorothy is worse. The doctorthinks it is scarlet fever. I must go to her at once."

  "Go where?" demanded Handsome in consternation.

  "To Philadelphia."

  "To Philadelphia to-night?" he cried in dismay.

  "Yes--to-night," she said firmly.

  He protested vigorously.

  "Nonsense--you can't go to-night. It will do no good. Wait till themorning. There are no trains."

  Quickly, the valet drew from his pocket a time-table. With a sideglance at his master, he said:

  "There is a train at 1.15. If Madame is quick, she will make it. Thecar is already waiting downstairs."

  Helen seized her fur coat, which the obliging valet had also brought upfrom the hall.

  "Yes--yes. Throw a few things in my bag. You needn't come, Ken. I'lltelephone you directly I get to Philadelphia. Good-bye!"

  The next instant she was gone and the gambler, with a muttered curse,went to the sideboard and poured out a glass of whiskey, with which todrown his disappointment.