CHAPTER VIII
THE LION'S SMILE
It was on the very stroke of five when Cleek, answering an urgentmessage from headquarters, strolled into the bar parlour of "The Fiddleand Horseshoe," which, as you may possibly know, stands near to theGreen in a somewhat picturesque by-path between Shepherd's Bush andActon, and found Narkom in the very act of hanging up his hat andwithdrawing his gloves preparatory to ordering tea.
"My dear Cleek, what a model of punctuality you are," said thesuperintendent, as he came forward and shook hands with him. "You wouldput Father Time himself to the blush with your abnormal promptness. Domake yourself comfortable for a moment or two while I go and order tea.I've only just arrived. Shan't be long, old chap."
"Pray don't hurry yourself upon my account, Mr. Narkom," replied Cleek,as he tossed his hat and gloves upon a convenient table and strolledleisurely to the window and looked out on the quaint, old-fashionedarbour-bordered bowling green, all steeped in sunshine and zoned withthe froth of pear and apple blooms, thick-piled above the time-stainedbrick of the enclosing wall. "These quaint old inns, which the march ofwhat we are pleased to call 'progress' is steadily crowding off the faceof the land, are always deeply interesting to me; I love them. What aday! What a picture! What a sky! As blue as what Dollops calls the'Merry Geranium Sea.' I'd give a Jew's eye for a handful of those appleblossoms, they are divine!"
Narkom hastened from the room without replying. The strain of poetryunderlying the character of this strange, inscrutable man, his amazinglove of Nature, his moments of almost womanish weakness and sentiment,astonished and mystified him. It was as if a hawk had acquired theutterly useless trick of fluting like a nightingale, and being himselfwholly without imagination, he could not comprehend it in the smallestdegree.
When he returned a few minutes later, however, the idealist seemed tohave simmered down into the materialist, the extraordinary to havebecome merged in the ordinary, for he found his famous ally no longerstudying the beauties of Nature, but giving his whole attention to thesordid commonplaces of man. He was standing before a glaringly printedbill, one of many that were tacked upon the walls, which set forth inamazing pictures and double-leaded type the wonders that were to be seendaily and nightly at Olympia, where, for a month past, "Van Zant's RoyalBelgian Circus and World-famed Menagerie" had been holding forth to"Crowded and delighted audiences." Much was made of two "star turns"upon this lurid bill: "Mademoiselle Marie de Zanoni, the beautiful andpeerless bare-back equestrienne, the most daring lady rider in theuniverse," for the one; and, for the other, "Chevalier Adrian di Roma,king of the animal world, with his great aggregation of savage andferocious wild beasts, including the famous man-eating African lion,Nero, the largest and most ferocious animal of its species incaptivity." And under this latter announcement there was a picture of ayoung and handsome man, literally smothered with medals, lying at fulllength, with his arms crossed and his head in the wide-open jaws of asnarling, wild-eyed lion.
"My dear chap, you really do make me believe that there actually is sucha thing as instinct," said Narkom, as he came in. "Fancy your selectingthat particular bill out of all the others in the room! What an abnormalindividual you are!"
"Why? Has it anything to do with the case you have in hand?"
"Anything to do with it? My dear fellow, it _is_ 'the case.' I can'timagine what drew your attention to it."
"Can't you?" said Cleek, with a half smile. Then he stretched forth hishand and touched the word "Nero" with the tip of his forefinger. "Thatdid. Things awaken a man's memory occasionally, Mr. Narkom, and---- Tellme, isn't that the beast there was such a stir about in the newspapers afortnight or so ago, the lion that crushed the head of a man in fullview of the audience?"
"Yes," replied Narkom, with a slight shudder. "Awful thing, wasn't it?Gave me the creeps to read about it. The chap who was killed, poorbeggar, was a mere boy, not twenty, son of the Chevalier di Romahimself. There was a great stir about it. Talk of the authoritiesforbidding the performance, and all that sort of thing. They never did,however, for on investigation---- Ah, the tea at last, thank fortune.Come, sit down, my dear fellow, and we'll talk whilst we refreshourselves. Landlady, see that we are not disturbed, will you, and thatnobody is admitted but the parties I mentioned?"
"Clients?" queried Cleek, as the door closed and they were alonetogether.
"Yes. One, Mdlle. Zelie, the 'chevalier's' only daughter, a slack-wireartist; the other, Signor Scarmelli, a trapeze performer, who is thelady's fiance."
"Ah, then our friend the chevalier is not so young as the picture on thebill would have us believe he is."
"No, he is not. As a matter of fact, he is considerably past forty, andis, or rather, was, up to six months ago, a widower, with threechildren, two sons and a daughter."
"I suppose," said Cleek, helping himself to a buttered scone, "I am toinfer from what you say that at the period mentioned, six months ago,the intrepid gentleman showed his courage yet more forcibly by taking asecond wife? Young or old?"
"Young," said Narkom in reply. "Very young, not yet four-and-twenty, infact, and very, very beautiful. That is she who is 'featured' on thebill as the star of the equestrian part of the program: 'Mdlle. Marie deZanoni.' So far as I have been able to gather, the affair was a lovematch. The lady, it appears, had no end of suitors, both in and out ofthe profession; it has even been hinted that she could, had she been sominded, have married an impressionable young Austrian nobleman ofindependent means who was madly in love with her; but she appears tohave considered it preferable to become 'an old man's darling,' so tospeak, and to have selected the middle-aged chevalier rather than someone whose age is nearer her own."
"Nothing new in that, Mr. Narkom. Young women before Mdlle. Marie deZanoni's day have been known to love elderly men sincerely: young Mrs.Bawdrey, in the case of 'The Nine-fingered Skeleton,' is an example ofthat. Still, such marriages are not common, I admit, so when they occurone naturally looks to see if there may not be 'other considerations' atthe bottom of the attachment. Is the chevalier well-to-do? Has heexpectations of any kind?"
"To the contrary; he has nothing but the salary he earns, which is by nomeans so large as the public imagines; and as he comes of a long line ofcircus performers, all of whom died early and poor, 'expectations,' asyou put it, do not enter into the affair at all. Apparently the ladydid marry him for love of him, as she professes and as he imagines;although, if what I hear is true, it would appear that she has latelyoutgrown that love. It seems that a Romeo more suitable to her age hasrecently joined the show in the person of a rider called Signor AntonioMartinelli; that he has fallen desperately in love with her, andthat----"
He bit off his words short and rose to his feet. The door had openedsuddenly to admit a young man and a young woman, who entered in a stateof nervous excitement. "Ah, my dear Mr. Scarmelli, you and Miss Zelieare most welcome," continued the superintendent. "My friend and I werethis moment talking about you."
Cleek glanced across the room, and, as was customary with him, made uphis mind instantly. The girl, despite her association with the arena,was a modest, unaffected little thing of about eighteen; the man was astraight-looking, clear-eyed, boyish-faced young fellow of abouteight-and-twenty, well, but by no means flashily, dressed, and carryinghimself with the air of one who respects himself and demands the respectof others. He was evidently an Englishman, despite his Italian _nom detheatre_, and Cleek decided out of hand that he liked him.
"We can shelve 'George Headland' in this instance, Mr. Narkom," he said,as the superintendent led forward the pair for the purpose ofintroducing them, and suffered himself to be presented in the name ofCleek.
The effect of this was electrical; would, in fact, had he been a vainman, have been sufficiently to gratify him to the fullest, for the girl,with a little "Oh!" of amazement, drew back and stood looking at himwith a sort of awe that rounded her eyes and parted her lips, while theman leaned heavily upon the back of a convenient chair and looked and
acted as one utterly overcome.
"Cleek!" he repeated, after a moment's despairful silence. "You, sir,are that great man? This is a misfortune indeed."
"A misfortune, my friend? Why a 'misfortune,' pray? Do you think theriddle you have brought is beyond my powers?"
"Oh, no; not that--never that!" he made reply. "If there is any one manin the world who could get at the bottom of it, could solve the mysteryof the lion's change, the lion's smile, you are that man, sir, you. Thatis the misfortune: that you could do it, and yet I cannot expect it,cannot avail myself of this great opportunity. Look! I am doing it allon my own initiative, sir, for the sake of Zelie and that dear, lovableold chap, her father. I have saved fifty-eight pounds, Mr. Cleek. I hadhoped that that might tempt a clever detective to take up the case; butwhat is such a sum to such a man as you?"
"If that is all that stands in the way, don't let it worry you, my goodfellow," said Cleek, with a smile. "Put your fifty-eight pounds in yourpocket against your wedding-day, and good luck to you. I'll take thecase for nothing. Now then, what is it? What the dickens did you meanjust now when you spoke about 'the lion's change' and 'the lion'ssmile'? What lion--Nero? Here, sit down and tell me all about it."
"There is little enough to tell, Heavens knows," said young Scarmelli,with a sigh, accepting the invitation after he had gratefully wrungCleek's hand, and his fiancee, with a burst of happy tears, had caughtit up as it slipped from his and had covered it with thankful kisses."That, Mr. Cleek, is where the greatest difficulty lies, there is solittle to explain that has any bearing upon the matter at all. It isonly that the lion, Nero, that is, the chevalier's special pride andspecial pet, seems to have undergone some great and inexplicable change,as though he is at times under some evil spell, which lasts but a momentand yet makes that moment a tragical one. It began, no one knows whynor how, two weeks ago, when, without hint or warning, he killed theperson he loved best in all the world, the chevalier's eldest son.Doubtless you have heard of that?"
"Yes," said Cleek. "But what you are now telling me sheds a new lightupon the matter. Am I to understand, then, that all that talk, on thebills and in the newspapers, about the lion being a savage and adangerous one is not true, and that he really is attached to his ownerand his owner's family?"
"Yes," said Scarmelli. "He is indeed the gentlest, most docile, mostintelligent beast of his kind living. In short, sir, there's not a'bite' in him; and, added to that, he is over thirty years old. Zelie,Miss di Roma, will tell you that he was born in captivity; that from hisearliest moment he has been the pet of her family; that he was, so tospeak, raised with her and her brothers; that, as children, they oftenslept with him; that he will follow those he loves like any dog, fightfor them, protect them, let them tweak his ears and pull his tailwithout showing the slightest resentment, even though they may actuallyhurt him. Indeed, he is so general a favourite, Mr. Cleek, that thereisn't an attendant connected with the show who would not, and, indeed,has not at some time, put his head in the beast's mouth, just as thechevalier does in public, certain that no harm could possibly come ofthe act.
"You may judge, then, sir, what a shock, what a horrible surprise it waswhen the tragedy of two weeks ago occurred. Often, to add zest to theperformance, the chevalier varies it by allowing his children to puttheir heads into Nero's mouth instead of doing so himself, merely makinga fake of it that he has the lion under such control that he willrespect any command given by him. That is what happened on that night.Young Henri was chosen to put his head into Nero's mouth, and did sowithout fear or hesitation. He took the beast's jaws and pulled themapart, and laid his head within them, as he had done a hundred timesbefore; but of a sudden an appalling, an uncanny, thing happened. It wasas though some supernatural power laid hold of the beast and made athing of horror of what a moment before had been a noble-looking animal.Suddenly a strange hissing noise issued from its jaws, its lips curledupward until it smiled--smiled, Mr. Cleek!--oh, the ghastliest, mostawful, most blood-curdling smile imaginable and then, with a sort ofmingled snarl and bark, it clamped its jaws together and crushed theboy's head as though it were an egg-shell!"
He put up his hands and covered his eyes as if to shut out someappalling vision, and for a moment or two nothing was heard but the lowsobbing of the victim's sister.
"As suddenly as that change had come over the beast, Mr. Cleek,"Scarmelli went on presently, "just so suddenly it passed, and it was thedocile, affectionate animal it had been for years. It seemed tounderstand that some harm had befallen its favourite--for Henri was itsfavourite--and, curling itself up beside his body, it licked his handsand moaned disconsolately in a manner almost human. That's all there isto tell, sir, save that at times the horrid change, the appalling smile,repeat themselves when either the chevalier or his son bend to put ahead within its jaws, and but for their watchfulness and quickness thetragedy of that other awful night would surely be repeated. Sir, it isnot natural; I know now, as surely as if the lion itself has spoken,that some one is at the bottom of this ghastly thing, that some humanagency is at work, some unknown enemy of the chevalier's is doingsomething, God alone knows what or why, to bring about his death as hisson's was brought about."
And here, for the first time, the chevalier's daughter spoke.
"Ah, tell him all, Jim, tell him all!" she said, in her pretty brokenEnglish. "Monsieur, may the good God in heaven forgive me if I wrongher; but--but---- Ah, Monsieur Cleek, sometimes I feel that she, mystepmother, and that man, that 'rider' who knows not how to ride as theartist should, monsieur, I cannot help it, but I feel that they are atthe bottom of it."
"Yes, but why?" queried Cleek. "I have heard of your father's secondmarriage, mademoiselle, and of this Signor Antonio Martinelli, to whomyou allude. Mr. Narkom has told me. But why should you connect these twopersons with this inexplicable thing. Does your father do so, too?"
"Oh, no! oh, no!" she answered excitedly. "He does not even know that wesuspect, Jim and I. He loves her, monsieur. It would kill him to doubther."
"Then why should you?"
"Because I cannot help it, monsieur. God knows, I would if I could, forI care for her dearly, I am grateful to her for making my father happy.My brothers, too, cared for her. We believed she loved him; we believedit was because of that that she married him. And yet--and yet---- Ah,monsieur, how can I fail to feel as I do when this change in the lioncame with that man's coming? And she--ah, monsieur, why is she alwayswith him? Why does she curry favour of him and his rich friend?"
"He has a rich friend, then?"
"Yes, monsieur. The company was in difficulties; Monsieur van Zant, theproprietor, could not make it pay, and it was upon the point ofdisbanding. But suddenly this indifferent performer, this rider who is,after all, but a poor amateur and not fit to appear with a company oftrained artists, suddenly this Signor Martinelli comes to Monsieur vanZant to say that, if he will engage him, he has a rich friend, one SenorSperati, a Brazilian coffee planter, who will 'back' the show with hismoney and buy a partnership in it. Of course M. van Zant accepted; andsince then this Senor Sperati has travelled everywhere with us, has hadthe entree like one of us, and his friend, the bad rider, has fairlybewitched my stepmother, for she is ever with him, ever with them both,and--and---- Ah, mon Dieu! the lion smiles, and my people die! Why doesit 'smile' for no others? Why is it only they, my father, my brother,they alone?"
"Is that a fact?" said Cleek, turning to young Scarmelli. "You say thatall connected with the circus have so little fear of the beast that evenattendants sometimes do this foolhardy trick? Does the lion never'smile' for any of those?"
"Never, Mr. Cleek, never under any circumstances. Nor does it alwayssmile for the chevalier and his son. That is the mystery of it. Onenever knows when it is going to happen; one never knows why it doeshappen. But if you could see that uncanny smile----"
"I should like to," interposed Cleek. "That is, if it might happenwithout any tragical result. Hum-m-m! Nobody but the chevalier and thechevalier's son
! And when does it happen in their case, during thecourse of the show, or when there is nobody about but those connectedwith it?"
"Oh, always during the course of the entertainment, sir. Indeed, it hasnever happened at any other time--never at all."
"Oho!" said Cleek. "Then it is only when they are dressed and made upfor the performance, eh? Hum-m-m! I see." Then he lapsed into silencefor a moment, and sat tracing circles on the floor with the toe of hisboot. But, of a sudden: "You came here directly after the matinee, Isuppose?" he queried, glancing up at young Scarmelli.
"Yes; in fact, before it was wholly over."
"I see. Then it is just possible that all the performers have not yetgot into their civilian clothes. Couldn't manage to take me round behindthe scenes, so to speak, if Mr. Narkom will lend us his motor to hurryus there? Could, eh? That's good. I think I'd like to have a look atthat lion and, if you don't mind, an introduction to the partiesconcerned. No! don't fear; we won't startle anybody by revealing myidentity or the cause of the visit. Let us say that I'm a vet. to whomyou have appealed for an opinion regarding Nero's queer conduct. Allready, Mr. Narkom? Then let's be off."
Two minutes later the red limousine was at the door, and, stepping intoit with his two companions, he was whizzed away to Olympia and the firststep toward the solution of the riddle.
II
As it is the custom of those connected with the world of the circus toeat, sleep, have their whole being, as it were, within the environmentof the show, to the total exclusion of hotels, boarding-houses, oroutside lodgings of any sort, he found on his arrival at his destinationthe entire company assembled in what was known as the "living-tent,"chatting, laughing, reading, playing games and killing time generallywhilst waiting for the call to the "dining-tent," and this gave him anopportunity to meet all the persons connected with the "case," from the"chevalier" himself to the Brazilian coffee planter who was "backing"the show.
He found this latter individual a somewhat sullen and taciturn man ofmiddle age, who had more the appearance of an Austrian than a Brazilian,and with a swinging gait and an uprightness of bearing which were not tobe misunderstood.
"Humph! Known military training," was Cleek's mental comment as soon ashe saw the man walk. "Got it in Germany, too; I know that peculiar'swing.' What's his little game, I wonder? And what's a Brazilian doingin the army of the Kaiser? And, having been in it, what's he doingdropping into this line; backing a circus, and travelling with it like aBohemian?"
But although these thoughts interested him, he did not put them intowords nor take anybody into his confidence regarding them.
As for the other members of the company, he found "the indifferentrider," known as Signor Antonio Martinelli, an undoubted Irishman ofabout thirty years of age, extremely handsome, but with a certain"shiftiness" of the eye which was far from inspiring confidence, andwith a trick of the tongue which suggested that his baptismalcertificate probably bore the name of Anthony Martin. He found, too,that all he had heard regarding the youth and beauty of the chevalier'ssecond wife was quite correct, and although she devoted herself a greatdeal to the Brazilian coffee planter and the Irish-Italian "Martinelli,"she had a way of looking over at her middle-aged spouse, without hisknowledge, that left no doubt in Cleek's mind regarding the real stateof her feelings toward the man. And last, but not least by any means, hefound the chevalier himself a frank, open-minded, open-hearted, lovableman, who ought not, in the natural order of things, to have an enemy inthe world. Despite his high-falutin _nom de theatre_, he was Belgian, abig, soft-hearted, easy-going, unsuspicious fellow, who worshipped hiswife, adored his children, and loved every creature of the animal world.
How well that love was returned, Cleek saw when he went with him to thatpart of the building where his animals were kept, and watched them"nose" his hand or lick his cheek whenever the opportunity offered. ButNero, the lion, was perhaps the greatest surprise of all, for so tame,so docile, so little feared was the animal, that its cage door was open,and they found one of the attendants squatting cross-legged inside andplaying with it as though it were a kitten.
"There he is, doctor," said the chevalier, waving his hand toward thebeast. "Ah, I will not believe that it was anything but an accident,sir. He loved my boy. He would hurt no one that is kind to him. Fetchhim out, Tom, and let the doctor see him at close quarters."
Despite all these assurances of the animal's docility Cleek could notbut remember what the creature had done, and, in consequence, did notfeel quite at ease when it came lumbering out of the cage with theattendant and ranged up alongside of him, rubbing its huge head againstthe chevalier's arm after the manner of an affectionate cat.
"Don't be frightened, sir," said Tom, noticing this. "Nothing more'n abig dog, sir. Had the care of him for eight years, I have--haven't I,chevalier?--and never a growl or scratch out of him. No 'smile' for yourold Tom, is there, Nero, boy, eh? No fear! Ain't a thing as anybody doeswith him, sir, that I wouldn't do off-hand and feel quite safe."
"Even to putting your head in his mouth?" queried Cleek.
"Lor', yes!" returned the man, with a laugh. "That's nothing. Done itmany a day. Look here!" With that he pulled the massive jaws apart, and,bending down, laid his head within them. The lion stood perfectlypassive, and did not offer to close his mouth until it was again empty.It was then that Cleek remembered, and glanced round at young Scarmelli.
"He never 'smiles' for any but the chevalier and his son, I believe yousaid," he remarked. "I wonder if the chevalier himself would be as safeif he were to make a feint of doing that?" For the chevalier, like mostof the other performers, had not changed his dress after the matinee,since the evening performance was so soon to begin; and if, as Cleek hadan idea, that the matter of costume and make-up had anything to do withthe mystery of the thing, here, surely, was a chance to learn.
"Make a feint of it? Certainly I will, doctor," the chevalier replied."But why a feint? Why not the actual thing?"
"No, please--at least, not until I have seen how the beast is likely totake it. Just put your head down close to his muzzle, chevalier. Goslow, please, and keep your head at a safe distance."
The chevalier obeyed. Bringing his head down until it was on a levelwith the animal's own, he opened the ponderous jaws. The beast was aspassive as before; and, finding no trace of the coming of the mysteriousand dreaded "smile," he laid his face between the double row of gleamingteeth, held it there a moment, and then withdrew it uninjured. Cleektook his chin between his thumb and forefinger and pinched it hard. Whathe had just witnessed would seem to refute the idea of either costume ormake-up having any bearing upon the case.
"Did you do that to-day at the matinee performance, chevalier?" hehazarded, after a moment's thoughtfulness.
"Oh, yes," he replied. "It was not my plan to do so, however. I alter myperformance constantly to give variety. To-day I had arranged for mylittle son to do the trick; but somehow---- Ah! I am a foolish man,monsieur; I have odd fancies, odd whims, sometimes odd fears,since--since that awful night. Something came over me at the lastmoment, and just as my boy came into the cage to perform the trick Ichanged my mind. I would not let him do it. I thrust him aside and didthe trick myself."
"Oho!" said Cleek. "Will the boy do it to-night, then, chevalier?"
"Perhaps," he made reply. "He is still dressed for it. Look, here hecomes now, monsieur, and my wife, and some of our good friends with him.Ah, they are so interested, they are anxious to hear what report youmake upon Nero's condition."
Cleek glanced round. Several members of the company were advancingtoward them from the "living-tent." In the lead was the boy, a littlefellow of about twelve years of age, fancifully dressed in tights andtunic. By his side was his stepmother, looking pale and anxious. Butalthough both Signor Martinelli and the Brazilian coffee planter came tothe edge of the tent and looked out, it was observable that theyimmediately withdrew, and allowed the rest of the party to proceedwithout them.
"Dearest, I have just
heard from Tom that you and the doctor areexperimenting with Nero," said the chevalier's wife, as she came up withthe others and joined him. "Oh, do be careful, do! Much as I like theanimal, doctor, I shall never feel safe until my husband parts with itor gives up that ghastly 'trick.'"
"My dearest, my dearest, how absurdly you talk!" interrupted herhusband. "You know well that without that my act would be commonplace,that no manager would want either it or me. And how, pray, should welive if that were to happen?"
"There would always be my salary; we could make that do."
"As if I would consent to live upon your earnings and add nothingmyself! No, no! I shall never do that, never. It is not as though thatfoolish dream of long ago had come true, and I might hope one day toretire. I am of the circus, and of it I shall always remain."
"I wish you might not; I wish the dream might come true, even yet," shemade reply. "Why shouldn't it? Wilder ones have come true for otherpeople; why should they not for you?"
Before her husband could make any response to this, the whole trend ofthe conversation was altered by the boy.
"Father," he said, "am I to do the trick to-night? Senor Sperati says itis silly of me to sit about all dressed and ready if I am to do nothing,like a little super, instead of a performer and an artist."
"Oh, but that is not kind of the senor to say that," his father replied,soothing his ruffled feelings. "You are an artist, of course; neversuper--no, never. But if you shall do the trick or not, I cannot say. Itwill depend, as it did at the matinee. If I feel it is right, you shalldo it; but if I feel it is wrong, then it must be no. You see, doctor,"catching Cleek's eye, "what a little enthusiast he is, and with howlittle fear."
"Yes, I do see, chevalier; but I wonder if he would be willing to humourme in something? As he is not afraid, I've an odd fancy to see how he'dgo about the thing. Would you mind letting him make the feint youyourself made a few minutes ago? Only, I must insist that in thisinstance it be nothing more than a feint, chevalier. Don't let him gotoo near at the time of doing it. Don't let him open the lion's jawswith his own hands. You do that. Do you mind?"
"Of a certainty not, monsieur. Gustave, show the good doctor how you goabout it when papa lets you do the trick. But you are not really to doit just yet, only to bend the head near to Nero's mouth. Now then, comesee."
As he spoke he divided the lion's jaws and signalled the child to bend.He obeyed. Very slowly the little head drooped nearer to the gaping,full-fanged mouth, very slowly and very carefully, for Cleek's hand wason the boy's shoulder, Cleek's eyes were on the lion's face. The hugebrute was as meek and as undisturbed as before, and there was actualkindness in its fixed eyes. But of a sudden, when the child's head wason a level with those gaping jaws, the lips curled backward in a ghastlyparody of a smile, a weird, uncanny sound whizzed through the baredteeth, the passive body bulked as with a shock, and Cleek had just timeto snatch the boy back when the great jaws struck together with a snapthat would have splintered a skull of iron had they closed upon it.
The hideous and mysterious "smile" had come again, and, brief though itwas, its passing found the boy's sister lying on the ground in a deadfaint, the boy's stepmother cowering back, with covered eyes and shrill,affrighted screams, and the boy's father leaning, shaken and white,against the empty cage and nursing a bleeding hand.
In an instant the whole place was in an uproar. "It smiled again! Itsmiled again!" ran in broken gasps from lip to lip; but through it allCleek stood there, clutching the frightened child close to him, but notsaying one word, not making one sound. Across the dark arena came a rushof running footsteps, and presently Senor Sperati came panting up,breathless and pale with excitement.
"What's the matter? What's wrong?" he cried. "Is it the lion again? Isthe boy killed? Speak up!"
"No," said Cleek very quietly, "nor will he be. The father will do thetrick to-night, not the son. We've had a fright and a lesson, that'sall." And, putting the sobbing child from him, he caught youngScarmelli's arm and hurried him away. "Take me somewhere that we cantalk in safety," he said. "We are on the threshold of the end,Scarmelli, and I want your help."
"Oh, Mr. Cleek, have you any idea, any clue?"
"Yes, more than a clue. I know how, but I have not yet discovered why.Now, if you know, tell me what did the chevalier mean, what did hiswife mean, when they spoke of a dream that might have come true butdidn't? Do you know? Have you any idea? Or, if you have not, do youthink your fiancee has?"
"Why, yes," he made reply. "Zelie has told me about it often. It is of afortune that was promised and never materialised. Oh, such a long timeago, when he was quite a young man, the chevalier saved the life of avery great man, a Prussian nobleman of great wealth. He was profuse inhis thanks and his promises, that nobleman; swore that he would make himindependent for life, and all that sort of thing."
"And didn't?"
"No, he didn't. After a dozen letters promising the chevalier thingsthat almost turned his head, the man dropped him entirely. In the midstof his dreams of wealth a letter came from the old skinflint's stewardenclosing him the sum of six hundred marks, and telling him that as hismaster had come to the conclusion that wealth would be more of a cursethan a blessing to a man of his class and station, he had thought betterof his rash promise. He begged to tender the enclosed as a proper andsufficient reward for the service rendered, and 'should not trouble theyoung man any further.' Of course, the chevalier didn't reply. Whowould, after having been promised wealth, education, everything one hadconfessed that one most desired? Being young, high-spirited, andbitterly, bitterly disappointed, the chevalier bundled the six hundredmarks back without a single word, and that was the last he ever heard ofthe Baron von Steinheid from that day to this."
"The Baron von Steinheid?" repeated Cleek, pulling himself up as thoughhe had trodden upon something.
"Do you mean to say that the man whose life he saved---- Scarmelli, tellme something: Does it happen by any chance that the 'Chevalier diRoma's' real name is Peter Janssen Pullaine?"
"Yes," said Scarmelli, in reply. "That is his name. Why?"
"Nothing, but that it solves the riddle, and the lion has smiled for thelast time! No, don't ask me any questions; there isn't time to explain.Get me as quickly as you can to the place where we left Mr. Narkom'smotor. Will this way lead me out? Thanks! Get back to the others, andlook for me again in two hours' time; and Scarmelli?"
"Yes, sir?"
"One last word: don't let that boy get out of your sight for oneinstant, and don't, no matter at what cost, let the chevalier do histurn to-night before I get back. Good-bye for a time. I'm off."
Then he moved like a fleetly passing shadow round the angle of thebuilding, and two minutes later was with Narkom in the red limousine.
"To the German embassy as fast as we can fly," he said as he scrambledin. "I've something to tell you about that lion's smile, Mr. Narkom, andI'll tell it while we're on the wing."
III
It was nine o'clock and after. The great show at Olympia was at itsheight; the packed house was roaring with delight over the daringequestrianship of "Mademoiselle Marie de Zanoni," and the sound of thecheers rolled in to the huge dressing-tent, where the artists awaitedtheir several turns, and the chevalier, in spangled trunks and tights,all ready for his call, sat hugging his child and shivering like a manwith the ague.
"Come, come, buck up, man, and don't funk it like this," said SenorSperati, who had graciously consented to assist him with his dressingbecause of the injury to his hand. "The idea of you losing your nerve,you of all men, and because of a little affair like that. You know verywell that Nero is as safe as a kitten to-night, that he never has twosmiling turns in the same week, much less the same day. Your act's thenext on the programme. Buck up and go at it like a man."
"I can't, senor, I can't!" almost wailed the chevalier. "My nerve isgone. Never, if I live to be a thousand, shall I forget that awfulmoment, that appalling 'smile.' I tell you there is wizardry in thething;
the beast is bewitched. My work in the arena is done, doneforever, senor. I shall never have courage to look into the beast's jawsagain."
"Rot! You're not going to ruin the show, are you, and after all themoney I've put into it? If you have no care for yourself, it's your dutyto think about me. You can at least try. I tell you you must try! Here,take a sip of brandy, and see if that won't put a bit of courage intoyou. Hallo!" as a burst of applause and the thud of a horse's hoofs downthe passage to the stables came rolling in, "there's your wife's turnover at last; and there--listen! the ringmaster is announcing yours. Getup, man; get up and go out."
"I can't, senor, I can't! I can't!"
"But I tell you you must."
And just here an interruption came.
"Bad advice, my dear captain," said a voice, Cleek's voice, from theother end of the tent; and with a twist and a snarl the "senor" screwedround on his heel in time to see that other intruders were putting in anappearance as well as this unwelcome one.
"Who the deuce asked you for your opinion?" rapped out the "senor"savagely. "And what are you doing in here, anyhow? If we want theservice of a vet., we're quite capable of getting one for ourselveswithout having him shove his presence upon us unasked."
"You are quite capable of doing a great many things, my dear captain,even making lions smile!" said Cleek serenely. "It would appear that thegallant Captain von Gossler, nephew, and, in the absence of one who hasa better claim, heir to the late Baron von Steinheid--That's it, nab thebeggar. Played, sir, played! Hustle him out and into the cab, with hisprecious confederate, the Irish-Italian 'signor,' and make a clean sweepof the pair of them. You'll find it a neck-stretching game, captain, I'mafraid, when the jury comes to hear of that poor boy's death and yourbeastly part in it."
By this time the tent was in an uproar, for the chevalier's wife hadcome hurrying in, the chevalier's daughter was on the verge ofhysterics, and the chevalier's prospective son-in-law was alternatelyhugging the great beast-tamer and then shaking his hand and generallydeporting himself like a respectable young man who had suddenly gonedaft.
"Governor!" he cried, half laughing, half sobbing. "Bully old governor.It's over--it's over. Never any more danger, never any more hard times,never any more lion's smiles."
"No, never," said Cleek. "Come here, Madame Pullaine, and hear the goodnews with the rest. You married for love, and you've proved a brick. Thedream's come true, and the life of ease and of luxury is yours at last,Mr. Pullaine."
"But, sir, I--I do not understand," stammered the chevalier. "What hashappened? Why have you arrested the Senor Sperati? What has he done? Icannot comprehend."
"Can't you? Well, it so happens, chevalier, that the Baron von Steinheiddied something like two months ago, leaving the sum of sixty thousandpounds sterling to one Peter Janssen Pullaine and the heirs of his body,and that a certain Captain von Gossler, son of the baron's only sister,meant to make sure that there was no Peter Janssen Pullaine and no heirsof his body to inherit one farthing of it."
"Sir! Dear God, can this be true?"
"Perfectly true, chevalier. The late baron's solicitors have beenadvertising for some time for news regarding the whereabouts of PeterJanssen Pullaine, and if you had not so successfully hidden your realname under that of your professional one, no doubt some of yourcolleagues would have put you in the way of finding it out long ago. Thebaron did not go back on his word and did not act ungratefully. Hiswill, dated twenty-nine years ago, was never altered in a singleparticular. I rather suspect that that letter and that gift of moneywhich came to you in the name of his steward, and was supposed to closethe affair entirely, was the work of his nephew, the gentleman whoseexit has just been made. A crafty individual that, chevalier, and helaid his plans cleverly and well. Who would be likely to connect himwith the death of a beast-tamer in a circus, who had perished in whatwould appear an accident of his calling? Ah, yes, the lion's smile was aclever idea. He was a sharp rascal to think of it."
"Sir! You--you do not mean to tell me that he caused that? He never wentnear the beast--never--even once."
"Not necessary, chevalier. He kept near you and your children; that wasall that he needed to do to carry out his plan. The lion was as much hisvictim as anybody else. What it did it could not help doing. The verysimplicity of the plan was its passport to success. All that wasrequired was the unsuspected sifting of snuff on the hair of the personwhose head was to be put in the beast's mouth. The lion's smile was not,properly speaking, a smile at all, chevalier; it was the torture whichcame of snuff getting into its nostrils, and when the beast made thatuncanny noise and snapped its jaws together, it was simply the outcomeof a sneeze. The thing would be farcical if it were not that tragedyhangs on the thread of it, and that a life, a useful human life, wasdestroyed by means of it. Yes, it was clever, it was diabolicallyclever; but you know what Bobby Burns says about the best-laid schemesof mice and men. There's always a Power higher up that works the ruin ofthem."
With that he walked by and, going to young Scarmelli, put out his hand.
"You're a good chap and you've got a good girl, so I expect you will behappy," he said; and then lowered his voice so that the rest might notreach the chevalier's ears. "You were wrong to suspect the littlestepmother," he added. "She's true blue, Scarmelli. She was only playingup to those fellows because she was afraid the 'senor' would drop outand close the show if she didn't, and that she and her husband and thechildren would be thrown out of work. She loves her husband--that'scertain--and she's a good little woman; and, Scarmelli?"
"Yes, Mr. Cleek?"
"There's nothing better than a good woman on this earth, my lad. Alwaysremember that. I think you, too, have got one. I hope you have. I hopeyou will be happy. What's that? Owe me? Not a rap, my boy. Or, if youfeel that you must give me something, give me your prayers for equalluck when my time comes, and send me a slice of the wedding cake. Theriddle's solved, old chap. Good-night!"