Summers, True

by Poppy

  "You must admit the idea was brilliant and the execution has been completely successful," Jack said mildly.

  ''More successful than the public knows. Fifteen and twenty chances on the same number have been sold. And they are not stopping there. Men who could dream up such a scheme would hardly stop short of conceiving every further opportunity to drain the last possible franc out ot-it. Buying crowns comes high. This will give Napoleon the money. The actual drawing will be interesting to watch. That is in the Circus on the Champs Blysees tomorrow. All Paris will be there. You must be sure to attend."

  "You will be there?" Jack asked.

  "I have arranged a place directly in front of the platform. If we do not see you there, meet us back here afterwards."

  Jack nodded. "Come, Andy. We have found an excellent little restaurant near our hotel. Good conversation, too."

  "One man draws only muscles, arms, legs, and backs," Andy reported. "Over and over again. With names."

  "A medical illustrator," Jack explained. "Andy likes his work better than the painters'."

  "There's a sculptor, too," Andy said. Eyes blazing with enthusiasm, he mimicked holding a chisel in one hand and a mallet in the other. "He has this big block of gray marble, and he goes boom, boom, boom."

  "We only arrived late yesterday, and he's been in and out of every room in the place already," Jack said, smiling and shaking his head. "It was the same on the barges. He knew everybody."

  Andy looked at his sister and saw her drooping mouth. "Never mind," he said and hugged her. "We'll see you again tomorrow."

  Poppy only nodded. She was too disappointed to speak. Andy was her little brother, and they had been separated in desperate circumstances. She had thought they would at least have dinner together and a chance to talk of things other than politics.

  After he shut the door behind them, Dex said, "The three of you together are rather conspicuous."

  "But here?" Poppy protested with a gesture at this private room.

  "It's best for them to appear at their meal in a usual place. You'll see them again tomorrow, here after the drawing. And I think the weather will hold fine. Besides being a Sunday. Yes, there will be a large crowd to see who wins the golden ingots."

  For once he did not have to rise early the next morning to leave and remain at his business all day. Instead he stayed the night through, and they breakfasted together. Sitting at a small table Delphine had placed by a sunny window, Poppy thought he looked exactly like a large dark tomcat, sunning and grooming himself after a satisfactory night. They got dressed leisurely, and Dex approved the new bonnet to be worn with the blue walking costume and the fur stole.

  The day was sunny but cold. They rode in Dex's carriage, and when his carriage could take them no further, they walked with her hand tucked under his elbow. Looking around, Poppy saw dozens of couples like themselves, prosperous top-hatted men with a look of relaxed serenity and pretty, dimpled women clinging demurely to their arms, languidly dependent. So many couples, so many nights of love, here in this teeming crowd of tens of thousands, all determined to see the fabulous drawing of the golden bars.

  Dex found his spot close below the platform. "Observe this," he said almost soundlessly. "Watch every move and see if you can tell me where the trickery lies."

  "But why do they need trickery?" Poppy whispered back. "You explained they've made extra fortunes anyhow."

  He pressed her gloved hand between his arm and side. "Watch closely."

  The huge platform held seven wire cages. Six of them contained balls numbered zero to nine. The other, the one indicating millions, had seven balls numbered zero to six. Government officials examined the numbered balls, one by one, then each cage and the connecting rods. Poppy hardly heard the lengthy speeches, puzzling over what could be wrong when everything had been examined so publicly. Then the cages were spun. When they stopped, a young boy stationed behind each cage drew a number. Those together won the first prize. For each new spin, either the boys changed places, or new boys replaced them. With everything so public, nothing could be wrong.

  Poppy looked up at Dex, shaking her head as the final numbers were drawn. "The drawing was completely honest."

  "Of course," Dex smiled. "Shall we try to ease through the crowd and get back to our carriage?"

  Poppy nodded, then stiffened, her hand clawing at Dex's coat. She stared, blinked as her stare was met by one that darted from her to Dex and back again, and then stared again and could not be sure.

  "What is it?" Dex asked in an almost soundless whisper.

  "There on the platform, I thought-no-maybe I'm wrong. But just for a minute, I thought I saw-impossible, of course."

  "Don't babble, sweetling. Saw who?"

  "The Viscount who attacked me in London. Some-thing about the profile, those darting eyes, that nose, you know. Like a parrot. Or something."

  "I know."

  "I'm always thinking I see him. Outside Les Sables. Or maybe, the man on the platform was not the Viscount. That's the one from the inn. He was staring at us both. Outside Les Sables-"

  Dex's hand on her shoulder stopped the words. "Not here. Don't mention the place. You thought you saw him there? And here? And he saw you?"

  "Both. And I thought he recognized you. But maybe it wasn't the same man at all,"

  "Perhaps. The family is large, and the resemblances are strong. We'll talk of this later in private. Come."

  Poppy had no breath to talk. The crush of people around them, trying to leave now the great show was over, literally squeezed the breath out of her and nearly swept her from her feet. Except that she could cling to Dex who forged forward with slow, inevitable strength, she thought she might have fallen and been crushed and trampled. When they reached .the carriage, her skirt hem was ripped and dust-spotted, and her bonnet dangled by its strings down her back. Dex helped her into the carriage and when they arrived at the rooms, half carried her to a chair in front of the fireplace and removed her fur.

  "Wine," he said, pouring from the tray waiting for them. "One glass only. Remember we have guests arriving, and you become somewhat impetuous after the third glass."

  Poppy sipped and managed to smile up at him. "I didn't think you objected. But what was the trick in the drawing? There was none."

  ''Not in the drawing. The damage was done before that and with a trick so simple no one would dare to try it at the smallest country fair," Dex chuckled. "I think it was the second wheel. One of the examining officials had a ball in his hand, and when he picked up the balls to look at them, he switched them so there were two of one number and one number was missing completely. That way, the numbers of the false tickets were not included at all. Oh, the mathematical possibilities, the beautiful mathematical possibilities. And they say we bankers can calculate odds. We're purest innocents, not in the same class as our Napoleon and his crowd."

  "But why?"

  "No bank would finance him. Buying thrones costs money. I've a private wager or two, for amusement only, that it will take less than a month now for him to become Emperor."

  "I don't know why I'm surprised," Poppy said, quietly refilling her glass. "He's tried every other trick to get the throne."

  Dex quietly removed the bottle. "That one glass and no more until our guests arrive, sweetling. We have too many important things to discuss. You say monsieur, call him Monsieur the Parrot, saw you outside Les Sables d'Olonne. When and where? You alone? Or all three of you?"

  Poppy shivered in spite of the bright fire and the wine in her hand. "We went first, to get out of town quickly and quietly, to an inn on the coast highway. I waited in the dining room for Jack and Andy-Andy had twisted his wrist-and I thought I heard something, no, I felt somebody was watching me, so I went and opened a door. He hurried away down a hall, but I saw his profile as he went around a comer."

  "Then he was staying there and knew when you arrived and when you left. And knew, very shortly, why you had been there. The family are hangers-on at the Aus
trian court, a highly political spot, and the priest was a political agitator. Napoleon has just bought himself an emperor's crown and is close to the Austrians. He will wish to please them."

  "The Parrot is Austrian?" She had a vague memory the Viscount had mentioned Vienna. "The family?"

  "Yes. Our bank, too, has always been close to the Austrian crown, but these days they have too many archdukes, all tremendously royal, and not enough thrones for them. That man has Napoleon's ear, and if he saw you near Les Sables and with me today, this changeseverything.Wemust movequickly."

  "What do you mean?"

  "As George Sand wrote"-Dex stared into the fire and seemed to quote-" 'In the provinces you have only to be a republican to be branded a communist; and if by chance you are a socialist republican, ha! then you are believed to drink human blood, to be a slayer of little children, a wife-beater, a bankrupt, a drunkard, a thief, and you risk being knocked in the head in the woods by a ploughboy indoctrinated by his master or the parish priest.' "

  "But I don't know anything about French politics."

  "I speak of the mood of the provinces. Even George Sand was frightened, and she had not killed a so-called priest. Napoleon could gain high favor and support in more than one place by arresting you and throwing you to the wolves. Believe me, they would tear you to pieces. There's only one thing to do. We've got to get all three of you out of the country fast."

  Chapter Fifteen

  THEY had dined well and then gone into the drawing room where they could talk privately. Jack, for he explained sailors had to know how to calculate, seemed to understand Dex's explanation of the juggling of the lottery balls and spent some time laughing and estimating in wry admiration how tremendous the profits would be.

  "Enough to buy a throne," Dex agreed. ''Especially when bankers have not been accommodating."

  "So you are not in good favor?" Jack asked.

  "We are never without influence," Dex said. "Enough for our needs. Not enough to quell an outburst of indignation from the provinces. Poppy tells me she was seen at the inn outside Les Sables d'Olonne and again today with me and recognized. By a person well known to our soon-to-be Emperor. And Napoleon will coddle the provinces until he is on the throne. He would happily gain their good will and votes by throwing them a bone. Or a body."

  "Don't frighten Poppy," Jack growled.

  ''I have already explained this to her, quite bluntly."

  Jack leaned forward, white under his deep bronze. "She must leave for England tonight"

  "Not necessarily." Dex rolled his wine glass between his fingers and admired the color of the wine reflecting the flames from the fire. "I agree you must all leave soon."

  "Jack's an heir," Andy piped up. "He can have a new Corn Dolly twenty times as big as the old one."

  "Just one of Her Majesty's vessels will make an agreeable fit," Jack drawled.

  "Is that what I am to tell your father?" Dex asked.

  "Tell him I am making my way home, though not by the most direct route."

  Dex nodded. "He'll settle for that. Now for Andy and Poppy."

  For the first time Poppy really understood he was sending her away. Still, he was often in London. Perhaps there, too, he had a luxurious suite, though she could not ask in front of Andy and Jack. Since she was not sure how much of this situation Andy comprehended, she murmured, ''There's always Pallminster Lane."

  "Our man who took over my duties there sent me word of Daisy last week," Dex said.

  "Your duties there?" Poppy questioned sharply.

  "I expect to be occupied abroad for a considerable time," Dex said. "Is Mr. Hammett still there?" Andy asked forlornly.

  "I understand Daisy got into her high ropes when you two disappeared from Cornwall and was quite inconsolable for days." Dex gave a small chuckle. "Mr. Hammett said he liked a peaceful home, and Daisy said she could not like a man who did not appreciate a wholesome family atmosphere. Without children, a home was a stale and weary desert."

  "She was in her high ropes," Andy said, awed.

  "She blamed Mr. Hammett because we were sent away?" Poppy said. "Not you?"

  "Not according to our man in the bank who was present when Mr. Hammett made a settlement to Daisy's account. Of a size to compensate for her great loss. They seem to have stated their differences to him with great frankness. Both speaking at once, I understand. With some warmth."

  "Then Daisy is arranged in perfect satisfaction again," Poppy said.

  "Daisy is considering a change in her condition in life."

  "She's too old to have babies," Andy blurted out and then went a miserable red with embarrassment.

  "Not too old to marry," Dex said.

  "Marry?" Poppy cried.

  "A titled gentleman. Rather a small title, a baronet, but still a title. Accompanied by a small, neat fortune, I believe."

  "Daisy married?" Poppy could not picture it. "Married?"

  "I'm told he has a small, pleasant place in the country and a smart little town house. Of course at seventy-odd, he is not overset in his emotions."

  ''He's marrying a nurse," Poppy exploded. "He knows Daisy is sweet and kind and as good as a tonic herself when anyone's sick. He's an old man who wants a nurse."

  "Who in return will be his comfortably warm widow."

  ''Is Daisy going to marry him?" Andy demanded.

  "She is wearing a handsome diamond brooch, though not a ring as yet," Dex said. "She seemed somewhat unsettled in her mind."

  "Oh, no," Poppy whispered. Daisy unsettled in her mind was a Daisy capable of anything. "Oh, no."

  "I understand her only conversation of late concerns the many happinesses for a woman in the blessed state of matrimony." Dex's eyes had a greenish glint of amusement. "I'm sure she would want aU the blessings for her daughter."

  Enraged, Poppy glared back at him. "She'd marry me off to the first man who offered. A lady of title can't have two illegitimate children at her wedding. Or in her house."

  "She'd send me away to school," Andy wailed.

  "No." Poppy jumped to her feet. "If we can be traced here, we'll leave. Now. Tonight."

  "There is another choice. And nothing need be decided tonight. I am sure more important things are being discussed tonight by Napoleon than a certain red-headed fugitive from the Vendee."

  "What is the other choice?" Jack asked.

  "I do not recommend it. I mention it." Dex picked up Poppy's glass from the tray, refilled it, and handed it to her. "Jack? Give me your glass. What is your opinion of this commendable effort to send fine crafts-men to California to make a new start, using the proceeds of the lottery?"

  Jack looked puzzled. "I thought you'd had reports. At the cafe, all the talk is that they're taking the sweepings off the streets and scum from the jails. Along with certain people who were not aware they had signed up for the immigration and many who are not even needy but who have been heard to refer too often to Napoleon the Little."

  "So no one questions too closely the exact identity of the passengers," Dex said, apparently lost in admiration of the color of his wine. "Many people from many places. Mmm."

  "I'm sure you know all this and more," Jack objected.

  Dex nodded and sipped thoughtfully. Then Poppy . understood. This was his solution to sending her away. No, he had to send her away, get her out of France to save her life. He was suggesting nothing. He was giving her a choice.

  She could go back to London and Daisy and any hasty marriage that could be arranged with any man willing to take a beauty of dubious heritage. She could go to California, wild, wealthy, and unknown. But she would be herself. She would be free. They said a man or a woman could make his own destiny there. And women were scarce and valued.

  Andy? She looked at him. He would hate an English school where his life would be made miserable once his illegitimacy was known, as it would become known. He was a likable young scamp, quick-witted, quick on his feet, and she had a feeling likable scamps did well in California.
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br />   As if her heart were not breaking, though she could feel the hard, bursting pain in her middle and had to force her voice to an unnatural high clarity over the lump in her throat, she said, "Then it would be possible for Andy and me to get passage to California?"

  "What?" Andy whooped. "California? Gold? Indians?"

  "Easily," Dex said. "For you two."

  ''Not for me, of course," Jack agreed.

  That night Poppy did not think she could endure the touch of a man who could so coldbloodedly send her away half around the world. She hardly spoke as Delphine helped her out of her handsome dress while Dex lingered in the drawing room talking to Jack. She dared not speak or say anything of what was raging in her heart. If she did, she would burst out with wild, screaming recriminations that could only make her bum with humiliation later. Of course Dex would not marry her. He had never intended marriage. She was Daisy's daughter. That he could marry her, she did not doubt. He had the power and wealth to dare even that. He would not marry her.