XII. HE CLAIMED A DAY
The strange experience of the evening brought Quentin sharply to asense of realization. It proved to him that he was feared, else whythe unusual method of campaign? To what extent the conspiratorswould carry their seemingly unnecessary warfare he was now, for thefirst time, able to form some sort of opinion. The remarkableboldness of the spy at the Garrison home left room for considerablespeculation as to his motive. What was his design and what wouldhave been the ending to his sinister vigil? Before Quentin sleptthat night he came to the drowsy conclusion that luck had reallybeen with him, despite his wound and Courant's escape, and that thesudden exposure of the spy destroyed the foundation for an importantmove in the powderless conflict.
In the morning his shoulder was so sore that the surgeon informedhim he could not use the arm for several days. Turk philosophicallybore the brunt of his master's ire. Like a little Napoleon heendured the savage assaults from Quentin's vocal batteries, takingthem as lamentations instead of imprecations. The morning newspapersmentioned the attempt to rob Mrs. Garrison's house and soundlydeplored the unstrategic and ill-advised attempt of "an Americannamed Canton" to capture the desperado. "The police department issevere in its criticism of the childish act which allowed the wretchto escape detection without leaving the faintest clew behind.Officers were close at hand, and the slightest warning would havehad them at the Garrison home. The capture of this man would havemeant much to the department, as he is undoubtedly one of thediamond robbers who are working havoc in Brussels at this time. Hewas, it is stated positively by the police, not alone in hisoperations last night. His duty, it is believed, was to obtain thelay of the land and to give the signal at the proper moment for acareful and systematic raid of the wealthy woman's house. The policenow fear that the robbers, whose daring exploits have shocked andalarmed all Brussels, are on their guard and a well-defined plan toeffect their capture is ruined. A prominent attache of thedepartment is of the opinion that an attempt was to have been madeby the band to relieve all of Mrs. Garrison's guests of their jewelsin a sensational game of 'stand and deliver.'"
"The miserable asses!" exploded Phil, when 'he read the foregoing."That is the worst rot I ever read. This police department couldn'tcatch a thief if he were tied to a tree. Turk, if they were so nearat hand why the devil didn't they get into the chase with me and runthat fellow down?"
"Th' chances are they was in th' chase, Mr. Quentin, but they didn'tget th' proper direction. They thought he was bein' chased th' otherway, an' I wouldn't be surprised if some of 'em run five or sixmiles before they stopped t' reflect."
"If there is a gang of diamond robbers or comic opera bandits inthis city I'll bet my hand they could steal the sidewalks withoutbeing detected, much less captured. A scheme to rob all of Mrs.Garrison's guests! The asses!"
"Don't get excited, sir. You'll burst a blood vessel, an' that's agood sight worse than a cut," cautioned Turk.
"Turk, in all your burglarious years, did you ever go about robbinga house in that manner?"
"Not in a million years."
"Well, what are we to do next?" demanded Quentin, reflectively,ignoring his former question and Turk's specific answer. "Shall wegive the police all the information we have and land Mr. Courant injail?"
"This is our game, sir, not th' police's. For th' Lord's sake, don'tgive anything up to th' cops. They'll raise particular thunder intheir sleep, an' we gets th' rough ha! ha! from our frien's, th'enemy. We pipes this little game ourself, an' we wins, too, if wesucceed in keepin' th' police from gettin' nex' to anything they'dmistake for a clue."
Phil thought long and hard before sitting down at noon to write toDickey Savage. He disliked calling for help in the contest, but witha bandaged arm and the odds against him, he finally resolved that heneeded the young New Yorker at his side. Dickey was deliberationitself, and he was brave and loyal. So the afternoon's post carrieda letter to Savage, who was still in London, asking him to come toBrussels at once, if he could do so conveniently. The same postcarried a letter to Lord Bob, and in it the writer admitted that hemight need reinforcements before the campaign closed. He alsoinclosed the clipping from the newspaper, but added a choice andcaustic opinion of the efficiency of the Brussels police. He did notallude specifically to Courant, the duke, or to the queer beginningof the prince's campaign.
Early in the afternoon Mrs. Garrison sent to inquire as to hiswound. In reply he calmly prepared for an appearance in person. Turkaccompanied him, about four o'clock, in a cab to the house in AvenueLouise. There were guests, and Phil was forced to endure a rathereffusive series of feminine exclamations and several politeexpressions from men who sincerely believed they could have donebetter had they been in his place. Mrs. Garrison was a trifledistant at first, but as she saw Quentin elevated to the pedestal ofa god for feminine worship she thawed diplomatically, and, with raretact, assumed a sort of proprietorship. Dorothy remained in thebackground, but he caught anxious glances at his arm, and, once ortwice, a serious contemplation of his half-turned face.
"I'll let her think the fellow was one of the diamond robbers forthe present," thought he. "She wouldn't believe me if I told her hewas in the employ of the prince, and the chances are she'd ruineverything by writing to him about it."
When at last he found the opportunity to speak with her alone heasked how she had slept.
"Not at all, not a wink, not a blink. I imagined I heard robbers inevery part of the house. Are you speaking the truth when you tellall these people it is a mere scratch? I am sure it is much worse,and I want you to tell me the truth," she said, earnestly.
"I've had deeper cuts that didn't bleed a drop," said he. "If youmust have the truth, Dorothy, I'll confess the fellow gave me arather nasty slash, and I don't blame him, He had to do it, and he'sjust as lucky as I am, perhaps, that it was no worse. I wish tocompliment your Brussels police, too, on being veritablebloodhounds. I observed as I came in that they have at last scentedthe blood on the pavement in front of the house and have washed awaythe stain fairly well."
"Wasn't the story in the morning paper ridiculous? You were verybrave. I almost cried when I saw how the horrid detectivescriticised you."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, because I was afraid you'd thinklike the rest--that I was a blundering idiot."
"You did not fear anything of the kind. Do you really think he wasone of those awful diamond robbers who are terrorizing the town? Icould not sleep another wink if I thought so. Why, last spring arich merchant and his wife were drugged in one of the cafes, takenby carriage to Watermael, where they were stripped of theirvaluables and left by the roadside."
"Did you see an account of the affair in your morning paper?"
"Yes--there were columns about it."
"Then I think eight-tenths of the crime was committed at a cityeditor's desk. It's my opinion these diamond thieves are a set ofordinary pickpockets and petty porch climbers. A couple of New Yorkpolicemen could catch the whole lot in a week."
"But, really, Phil, they are very bold and they are not at allordinary. You don't know how thankful we are that this one wasdiscovered before he got into the house. Didn't he have a knife?Well, wasn't it to kill us with if we made an outcry?" She wasnervous and excited, and he had it on the tip of his tongue to allayher fears by telling what he thought to be the true object of theman's visit.
"Well, no matter what he intended to do, he didn't do it, and he'llnever come back to try it again. He will steer clear of this house,"he said, reassuringly.
A week, two weeks went by without a change in the situation. DickeySavage replied that he would come to Brussels as soon as his hearttrouble would permit him to leave London, and that would probably beabout the twentieth of August. In parentheses he said he hoped to beout of danger by that time. The duke was persistent in hisfriendliness, and Courant had, to all intents and purposes,disappeared completely. Prince Ugo was expected daily, and Mrs.Garrison was beginning to breathe easily again. The police had givenup the eff
ort to find the Garrison robber, and Turk had learnedeverything that was to be known concerning the house in whichCourant found shelter after eluding his pursuers on the night of theaffray. Quentin's shoulder was almost entirely healed, and he wasbeginning to feel himself again. The two weeks had found him aconstant and persistent visitor at Miss Garrison's home, but he wascompelled to admit that he had made no progress in his crusadeagainst her heart. She baffled him at every turn, and he wasbeginning to lose his confident hopes. At no time during theirtete-a-tetes, their walks, their drives, their visits to the artgalleries, did she give him the slightest ground for encouragement.And, to further disturb his sense of contentment, she wasdelighted--positively delighted--over the coming of Prince Ugo. Fora week she had talked of little save the day when he was to arrive.Quentin endured these rapturous assaults nobly, but he was slowlybeginning to realize that they were battering down the only defensehe had--the inward belief that she cared for him in spite of all.
Frequently he met the Duke Laselli at the Garrisons'. He also saw agreat deal of the de Cartiers and Mile. Gaudelet. When, one day, heboldly intimated to Dorothy that de Cartier was in love with Louiseand she with him, that young lady essayed to look shocked anddispleased, but he was sure he saw a quick gleam of satisfaction inher eyes. And he was positive the catch in her breath was not somuch of horror as it was of joy. Mrs. Garrison did all in her powerto bring him and the pretty French girl together, and her insistenceamused him.
One day her plans, if she had any, went racing skyward, and she, aswell as all Brussels society, was stunned by the news that deCartier had deserted his wife to elope with the fair Gaudelet! WhenQuentin laconically, perhaps maliciously, observed that he had longsuspected the nature of their regard for one another, Mrs.Garrison gave him a withering look and subsided into a chillingunresponsiveness that boded ill for the perceiving young man. Theinconsiderate transgression of de Cartier and the unkindness of theGaudelet upset her plans cruelly, and she found that she had wastedtime irreparably in trying to bring the meddling American to the feetof the French woman. Quentin revelled in her discomfiture, and Dorothyin secret enjoyed the unexpected turn of affairs.
She had seen through her mother's design, and she had known allalong how ineffectual it would prove in the end. Philip puzzled herand piqued her more than she cared to admit. That she did not carefor him, except as a friend, she was positive, but that he shouldpersistently betray signs of nothing more than the most ordinaryfriendship was far from pleasing to her vanity. The truth is, shehad expected him to go on his knees to her, an event which wouldhave simplified matters exceedingly. It would have given her theopportunity to tell him plainly she could be no more than a friend,and it would have served to alter his course in what she believed tobe a stubborn love chase. But he had disappointed her; he had beenthe amusing companion, the ready friend, the same sunny spirit, andshe was perplexed to observe that he gave forth no indication ofhoping or even desiring to be more. She could not, of course, knowthat this apparently indifferent young gentleman was wiser, farwiser, than the rest of his kind. He saw the folly of a rash, hastyleap in the dark, and bided his time like the cunning general whofrom afar sees the hopelessness of an attack against a strong andwatchful adversary, and waits for the inevitable hour when the vigilis relaxed.
There was no denying the fact that with all his confidence hiscolors were sinking, while hers remained as gallantly fluttering aswhen the struggle began. He was becoming confused and nervous; afeeling of impotence began slyly, devilishly to assail him, and hefrequently found himself far out at sea. The strange inactivity ofthe prince's cohorts, the significant friendliness of the duke, theeverlasting fear that a sudden move might catch him unawares beganto tell on his peace of mind. Both he and Turk watched like cats forthe slightest move that might betray the intentions of the foe, butthere was nothing, absolutely nothing. The house in which Courantfound safety was watched, but it gave forth no secrets. The duke'severy movement appeared to be as open, as fair, as unsuspicious asman's could be, and yet there was ever present the feeling that someday something would snap and a crisis would rush upon them. Late oneafternoon he drove up to the house in Avenue Louise, and whenDorothy came downstairs for the drive her face was beaming.
"Ugo comes to-morrow," she said, as they crossed to the carriage.
"Which means that I am to be relegated to the dark," he said,dolefully.
"Oh, no! Ugo likes you and I like you, you know. Why, are we not tobe the same good friends as now?" she asked, suddenly, with a prettyshow of surprise.
"Oh, I suppose so," he said, looking straight ahead. They weredriving rapidly toward the Bois de la Cambre. "But, of course, I'llnot rob the prince of moments that belong to him by right ofconquest. You may expect to see me driving disconsolately along theavenue--alone."
"Mr. Savage will be here," she said, sweetly, enjoying his firstshow of misery.
"But he's in love, and he'll not be thinking of me. I'm the only onein all Christendom, it seems to me, who is not in love withsomebody, and it's an awful hardship."
"You will fall really in love some day, never fear," shevolunteered, after a somewhat convulsive twist of the head in hisdirection.
"Unquestionably," he said, "and I shall be just as happy and asfoolish as the rest of you, I presume."
"I should enjoy seeing you really and truly in love with some girl.It would be so entertaining."
"A perfect comedy, I am sure. I must say, however, that I'd feelsorry for the girl I loved if she didn't happen to love me."
"And why, pray?"
"Because," he said, turning abruptly and looking straight into hereyes, "she'd have the trouble and distinction of surrendering in theend."
"You vain, conceited thing!" she exclaimed, a trifle disconcerted."You overestimate your power."
"Do you think I overestimate it?" he demanded, quickly.
"I don t--don't know. How should I know?" she cried, in completerout. In deep chagrin she realized that he had driven her sharplyinto unaccountable confusion, and that her wits were scatteringhopelessly at the very moment when she needed them most.
"Then why do you say I overestimate it?" he asked, relentlessly.
"Because you do," she exclaimed, at bay.
"Are you a competent judge?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, grasping for time.
"I mean, have you the right to question my power, as you call it?Have I attempted to exert it over you?"
"You are talking nonsense, Phil," she said, spiritedly.
"I said I'd feel sorry for the girl if she didn't happen to love me,you know. Well, I couldn't force her to love me if she didn't loveme, could I?"
"Certainly not. That is what I meant," she cried, immenselyrelieved.
"But my point is that she might love me without knowing it and wouldsimply have to be brought to the realization."
"Oh," she said, "that is different."
"You take back what you said, then?" he asked, maliciously.
"If she loved you and did not know it, she'd be a fool and you couldexert any kind of power over her. You see, we didn't quiteunderstand each other, did we?"
"That is for you to say," he said, smiling significantly. "I think Iunderstand perfectly."
By this time they were opposite the Rue Lesbroussart, and he drovetoward the Place Ste. Croix. As they made the turn she gave a startand peered excitedly up the Avenue Louise, first in front of hercompanion, then behind.
"Oh, Phil, there is Ugo!" she cried, clasping his arm. "See! In thetrap, coming toward us." He looked quickly, but the trees and housesnow hid the other trap from view.
"Are you sure it is he?"
"Oh, I am positive. He has come to surprise me. Is there no way wecan reach the house first? By the rear--anyway," she cried,excitedly. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were sparkling.
"Was he alone?" asked he, his jaw setting suddenly.
"That has nothing to do with it. We must hurry home. Turn back,Phil; we may be ab
le to overtake him on the avenue."
"I wanted to take you to the Park, Dorothy."
"Well?"
"That's all," he went on, calmly. "The prince can leave his card andcall later in the--well, this evening."
"What--you don't mean--Philip Quentin, take me home instantly," sheblazed.
"Not for all the princes in the universe," he said. "This is myafternoon, and I will not give up a minute of it."
"But I command, sir!"
"And I refuse to obey."
"Oh--oh, this is outrageous----" she began, frantically.
Suddenly his gloved left hand dropped from the reins and closed overone of hers. The feverish clasp and the command in his eyescompelled her to look up into his face quickly. There she saw thelook she feared, admired, deserved.
"There was a time when you wanted to be with me and with no other. Ihave not forgotten those days, nor have you. They were the sweetestdays of your life and of mine. It is no age since I held this handin mine, and you would have gone to the end of the world with me. Itis no age since you kissed me and called me a king. It is no agesince you looked into my eyes with an expression far different fromthe one you now have. You remember, you remember, Dorothy."
She was too surprised to answer, too overcome by the suddenness ofhis assault to resist. The power she had undertaken to estimate wasin his eyes, strong, plain, relentless.
"And because you remember I can see the hardness going from youreyes, the tenderness replacing it. The flush in your cheek is not somuch of anger as it was, your heart is not beating in rebellion asit was, and all because you cannot forget--you will not forget."
"This is madness," she cried, shivering as with a mighty chill.
"Madness it may be, Dorothy, but--well, because we have notforgotten the days when we were sweethearts, I am claiming this dayof you and you must give it to me for the same reason. You must sayto me that you give it willingly," he half whispered, intensely. Shecould only look helplessly into his eyes.
From the rumble Turk saw nothing, neither did he hear.