"Th' juke sent his card up, sir," said Turk, his master was oncemore in his rooms at the Bellevue. Turk was looking eminentlyrespectable in a new suit of blue serge.
"When?" asked Phil, glancing at Laselli's card. He had forgotten theItalian, and the sight of his name recalled the plot unpleasantly.
"'Bout eleven o'clock. I watched him leave th' hotel an' go downthat street over there--th' same one you took a little earlier."
"Watching me, I suspect. Haven't seen that detective fellow, haveyou, Turk? You ought to be able to scent a detective three milesaway."
"I can't scent in this language, sir."
Early in the evening, as Quentin was leaving the hotel for a shortstroll, he met the duke. The Italian accosted him familiarly andasked if he were trying to find a cool spot.
"I thought a ride on the tramcars might cool me off a bit,'" saidPhil.
"I know the city quite well, and I, too, am searching for relieffrom the heat. Do you object to company in your ride or stroll?"
"Happy to have you, I assure you. If you'll be good enough to waithere for a moment, till I find my stick, I'll be with you." The dukebowed politely, and Phil hastened back to his rooms. He secured hisstick, and did more. Like a wise young man, he bethought himself ofa possible trap, and the quest of the stick gave him the opportunityto instruct Turk to follow him and the duke and to be where he wasneeded in case of an emergency.
The tall, fresh-faced American in his flannels, and the short,bearded Italian in his trim frock coat and silk hat strolledleisurely forth into the crowded Place du Palais.
"Shall we walk awhile and then find a cafe where we may havesomething to drink?" asked the duke, his English so imperfect thatno writer could reproduce it.
"I am in your hands, and at your mercy," said the other, clingingclose to him as they merged into the crowd.
"May I ask if you have many friends in Brussels?" Under thepoliteness of the inquiry Quentin, with amusement, saw the realinterest. Looking calmly into the Italian's beady eyes, he said:
"I know but four persons here, and you are included in the list. Myservant is another. Mrs. and Miss Garrison are old and particularfriends, you know. In fact, my dear duke, I don't believe I shouldhave come to Brussels at all were they not here."
"They are most charming and agreeable," murmured the duke. "This issuch a frightful crowd Shall we not cross to the other side?"
"What's the use? I used to play football--you don't know what thatis, I suppose--and I'll show you how to get through a mob. Get infront--that's right--and I'll bring up in the rear." Laughing tohimself, he brought his big frame up against the little man's backand surged forward. Sure enough, they went "through the mob," butthe duke was the volley end of the battering ram. Never in all hislife had he made such hurried and seemingly unnecessary progressthrough a blockading crowd of roisterers. When they finally wentlunging into the half-deserted Rue de la Madeleine, his silk hat wasawry, his composure was ruffled, and he was very much out of breath.Phil, supremely at ease, heaved a sigh of satisfaction, drawing fromthe Italian a half-angry, half-admiring glance.
"Much easier than I thought," said Quentin, puffing quietly at hiscigar.
"We did it very nicely," agreed the other, with a brave effort toequal the American's unconcern. Nevertheless, he said to himselfmany times before they reached the broad Boulevard Anspach, thatnever had he taken such "a stroll," and never had he known howlittle difference there was between a steam and a human propeller.He almost forgot, as they sat at a small, table in front of a cafe,to institute his diplomatic search for the real object of theAmerican's presence in Brussels.
It was twelve o'clock when they returned to the hotel, after arather picturesque evening in the gay cafes.
Here is what the keen little Italian deduced: Quentin was to remainin Brussels until he took a notion to go somewhere else; Quentin hadseen the prince driving on the Paris boulevards; the Bois de laCambre offers every attraction to a man who enjoys driving; theAmerican slept with a revolver near his pillow, and his manservanthad killed six or seven men in the United States because of hismarvellous skill with the pistol; Quentin was a most unsophisticatedyoung man, with honesty and innocence in his frank eyes, althoughthey sometimes grew rather searching; he could only be overcome bycunning; he was in love with Miss Garrison.
Quentin's conclusions: Laselli was a liar and an ass; Prince Ugowould be in Brussels within ten days; he was careless with thehearts of women and cruel with their love; French detectives are thebest in the world, the most infallible; Miss Garrison loved the veryground the prince trod upon. He also discovered that the duke coulddrink wine as a fish drinks water, and that he seldom made overturesto pay for it until his companion had the money in hand, ready to doso.
Turk was waiting for him when he reached his rooms, and Turk was notamiable. A very attractive, innocent and demure young lady, whocould not speak English except with her hands and eyes, had relievedhim of a stickpin and his watch while he sat with her at a table notfar from the man he was protecting with his vaunted "eagle eye."
"An' she swiped 'em right under me nose, an' me eyes square on her,too. These people are too keen for me. They ain't a fairy in NewYork that could 'a' touched me without d' dope, lemme tell you. It'ought I knowed a t'ing er two, but I don't know buttons fromfishhooks. I'm d' easiest t'ing 'at ever went to Sunday school."
It was with a flushed, rebellious face that Miss Garrison steppedinto the victoria the next afternoon for the drive to the Bois de laCambre. She had come from a rather trying tilt with her mother, and,as they drove off between the rows of trees, she felt that a pair offlaming eyes were levelled from a certain upstairs window in theAvenue Louise. The Biblical admonition to "honor thy father and thymother" had not been entirely disregarded by this willful younglady, but it had been stretched to an unusual limit for theoccasion. She felt that she was very much imposed upon bycircumstances in the shape of an unreasonable mother and aninconvenient friend.
Mr. Quentin, more in love than ever, and more deeply inspired by thelonging to win where reason told him he must fail, did not flatterhimself into believing that Mrs. Garrison wholly approved of thedrive. Instead, he surmised from the beginning that Dorothy'sflushed cheeks were not from happiness, but from excitement, andthat he was not altogether a shadowy cause. With rare tact heplunged at once to the bottom of the sea of uncertainty and began tostruggle upward to the light, preferring such a course to the onewhere you start at the top, go down and then find yourself powerlessto get back to the surface.
"Was your mother very much annoyed when you said you were coming outwith me?" he asked. She started and a queer little tinge ofembarrassment sprang into her eyes.
"How absurd!" she said, readily, however. "Isn't the avenuebeautiful?"
"I don't know--yet," he said, without looking at the avenue. "Whatdid she say?" Miss Garrison did not reply, but looked straight aheadas if she had not heard him. "See here, Dorothy, I'm not a child andI'm not a lovesick fool. Just curious, that's all. Your mother hasno cause to be afraid of me--"
"You flatter yourself by imagining such a thing as--"
"--because there isn't any more danger that I shall fall in lovewith you than there is of--of--well, of your falling in love with me;and you know how improbable--"
"I don't see any occasion to refer to love in any way," she said,icily. "Mamma certainly does not expect me to do such anextraordinary thing. If you will talk sensibly, Phil, we may enjoythe drive, but if you persist in talking of affairs so ridiculous--"
"I can't say that I expect you to fall in love with me, so for onceyour mother and I agree. Nevertheless, she didn't want you to comewith me," he said, absolutely undisturbed.
"How do you know she didn't?" she demanded, womanlike. Then, beforeshe was quite aware of it, they were in a deep and earnestdiscussion of Mrs. Garrison, and her not very complimentary views.
"And how do you feel about this confounded prospect, Dorothy? Youare not afraid of what a few gossip
s--noble or otherwise--may sayabout a friendship that is entirely the business of two people andnot the property of the general public? If you feel that I am in theway I'll gladly go, you know. Of course, I'd rather hate to missseeing you once in a while, but I think I'd have the courage to--"
"Oh, it's not nice of you to be sarcastic," she cried, wondering,however, whether he really meant "gladly" when he said it. Somehowshe felt herself admitting that she was piqued by his apparentreadiness to abdicate. She did not know that he was cocksure of hisground before making the foregoing and other observations equally asindifferent.
"I'm not sarcastic; quite the reverse. I'm very serious. You knowhow much I used to think of you--"
"But that was long ago, and you were such a foolish boy," she cried,interrupting nervously.
"Yes, I know; a boy must have his foolish streaks. How a fellowchanges as he gets older, and how he looks back and laughs at thefancies he had when a boy. Same way with a girl, though, I suppose."He said it so calmly, so naturally that she took a sly peep at hisface. It revealed nothing but blissful imperturbability.
"I'm glad you agree with me. You see, I've always thought you werehorribly broken up when I--when I found that I also was indulging ina foolish streak. I believe I came to my senses before you did,though, and saw how ridiculous it all was. Children do such queerthings, don't they?" It was his turn to take a sly peep, and hisspirits went down a bit under the pressure of her undisguisedfrankness.
"How lucky it was we found it out before we ran away with eachother, as we once had the nerve to contemplate. Gad, Dorothy, didyou ever stop to think what a mistake it would have been?" She wasbowing to some people in a brougham, and the question was neveranswered. After a while he went on, going back to the originalsubject. "I shall see Mrs. Garrison to-night and talk it over withher. Explain to her, you know, and convince her that I don't in theleast care what the gossips say about me. I believe I can live itall down, if they do say I am madly, hopelessly in love with thevery charming fiancee of an Italian prince."
"You have me to reckon with, Phil; I am the one to consider and theone to pass judgment. You may be able to appease mamma, but it is Iwho will determine whether it is to be or not to be. Let us drop thesubject. For the present, we are having a charming drive. Is it notbeautiful?"
To his amazement and to hers, when they returned late in theafternoon Mrs. Garrison asked him to come back and dine.
"I must be dreaming," he said to himself, as he drove away. "She'sas shrewd as the deuce, and there's a motive in her suddenfriendliness. I'm beginning to wonder how far I'll drop and how hardI'll hit when this affair explodes. Well, it's worth a mightystrenuous effort. If I win, I'm the luckiest fool on earth; if Ilose, the surprise won't kill me." At eight he presented himselfagain at the Garrison house and found that he was not the onlyguest. He was introduced to a number of people, three of whom wereAmericans, the others French. These were Hon. and Mrs. HoraceKnowlton and their daughter, Miss Knowlton, M. and Mme. de Cartier,Mile. Louise Gaudelet and Count Raoul de Vincent.
"Dorothy tells me you are to be in Brussels for several weeks, and Iwas sure you would be glad to know some of the people here. They cankeep you from being lonesome, and they will not permit you to feelthat you are a stranger in a strange land," said Mrs. Garrison.Quentin bowed deeply to her, flashed a glance of understanding atDorothy, and then surveyed the strangers he was to meet. Quickintelligence revealed her motive in inviting him to meet thesepeople, and out of sheer respect for her shrewdness he felt likeapplauding. She was cleverly providing him with acquaintances thatany man might wish to possess, and she was doing it so early thatthe diplomacy of her action was as plain as day to at least twopeople.
"Mamma is clever, isn't she?" Dorothy said to him, merrily, as theyentered the dining-room. Neither was surprised to find that he hadbeen chosen to take her out. It was in the game.
"She is very kind. I can't say how glad I am to meet these people.My stay here can't possibly be dull," he said. "Mile. Gaudelet isstunning, isn't she?"
"Do you really think so?" she asked, and she did not see his smile.
The dinner was a rare one, the company brilliant, but there was tooccur, before the laughter in the wine had spent itself, an incidentin which Philip Quentin figured so conspicuously that his wit as adinner guest ceased to be the topic of subdued side talk, and hetook on a new personality.