CHAPTER XX
WILY MR. DRACONMEYER
They had skirted the wonderful bay and climbed the mountainous hill tothe frontier before Violet spoke. All the time Draconmeyer leaned backby her side, perfectly content. A man of varied subtleties, heunderstood and fully appreciated the intrinsic value of silence. Whilstthe Customs officer, however, was making out the deposit note for thecar, she turned to him.
"Will you tell me something, Mr. Draconmeyer?"
"Of course!"
"It is about my husband," she went on. "Henry isn't your friend--youdislike one another, I know. You men seem to have a sort of freemasonrywhich compels you to tell falsehoods about one another, but in this caseI am going to remind you that I have the greater claim, and I am goingto ask you for the sober truth. Henry has once or twice, during the lastfew days, hinted to me that his presence in Monte Carlo just now hassome sort of political significance. He is very vague about it all, buthe evidently wants me to believe that he is staying here against his owninclinations. Now I want to ask you a plain question. Is it likely thathe could have any business whatever to transact for the Government inMonte Carlo? What I mean is, could there possibly be anything to keephim in this place which for political reasons he couldn't tell meabout?"
"I can answer your question finally so far as regards any Governmentbusiness," Mr. Draconmeyer assured her. "Your husband's Party is inOpposition. As a keen politician, he would not be likely to interesthimself in the work of his rival."
"You are quite sure," she persisted, "you are quite sure that he couldnot have a mission of any sort?--that there isn't any meeting ofdiplomatists here in which he might be interested?"
Mr. Draconmeyer smiled with the air of one listening to a child'sprattle.
"If I were not sure that you are in earnest--!" he began. "However, Iwill just answer your question. Nothing of the sort is possible.Besides, people don't come to Monte Carlo for serious affairs, youknow."
Her face hardened a little.
"I suppose," she said, "that you are quite sure of what you told me theother evening about this young singer--Felicia Roche?"
"I should not allude to a matter of that sort," he declared, "unless Ihad satisfied myself as to the facts. It is true that I owe nothing toyour husband and everything to you, or I should have probably remainedsilent. As it is, all that I know is at your service. Felicia Roche isto make her debut at the Opera House to-night. Your husband has beenseen with her repeatedly. He was at her villa at one o'clock thismorning. I have heard it said that he is a little infatuated."
"Thank you," she murmured, "that is quite enough."
The formalities were concluded and the car drove on. They paused at thelast turn to gaze downward at the wonderful view--the gorgeous Bay ofMentone, a thousand feet below, with its wealth of mimosa-embosomedvillas; Monte Carlo glittering on the sea-board; the sweep of Monaco,red-roofed, picturesque. And behind, the mountains, further away still,the dim, snow-capped heights. Violet looked, as she was bidden, but hereyes seemed incapable of appreciation. When the car moved on, she leanedback in her seat and dropped her veil. She was paler even than when theyhad started.
"I am going to talk to you very little," he said gravely. "I want youjust to rest and breathe this wonderful air. If my reply to yourquestion troubles you, I am sorry, but you had to know it some day. Itis a wrench, of course, but you must have guessed it. Your husband is aman of peculiar temperament, but no man could have refused such an offeras you made him, unless there had been some special reason for it--noman in the world."
There was a little tremble in his tone, artistic and not overdone.Somehow, she felt that his admiration ministered to her self-respect.She permitted his hand to remain upon hers. The touch of her fingersvery nearly brought the torrent from his lips. He crushed the wordsdown, however. It was too great a risk. Very soon things would bedifferent; he could afford to wait.
They drove on to San Remo and turned into the hotel.
"You are better away from Monte Carlo for a few hours," he decided. "Wewill lunch here and drive back afterwards. You will feel greatlyrefreshed."
She accepted his suggestion without enthusiasm and with very little showof pleasure. They found a table on the terrace in a retired corner,surrounded with flowering cactus plants and drooping mimosa, andoverhung by a giant oleander tree. He talked to her easily but ingossiping fashion only, and always with the greatest respect. It was notuntil the arrival of their coffee that he ventured to become at allpersonal.
"Will you forgive me if I talk without reserve for a few moments?" hebegan, leaning a little towards her. "You have your troubles, I know.May I not remind you that you are not alone in your sorrows? Linda, asyou know, has no companionship whatever to offer. She does nothing butindulge in fretful regrets over her broken health. When I remember, too,how lonely your days are, and think of your husband and what he mightmake of them, then I cannot help realising with absolute vividness thesupreme irony of fate. Here am I, craving for nothing so much on earthas the sympathy, the affection of--shall I say such a woman as you? Andyour husband, who might have the best, remains utterly indifferent,content with something far below the second best. And there is so muchin life, too," he went on, regretfully. "I cannot tell you how difficultit is for me to sit still and see you worried about such a trifle asmoney. Fancy the joy of giving you money!"
She awoke a little from her lethargy. She looked at him, startled.
"You haven't told me yet," he added, "how the game went last night?"
"I lost every penny of that thousand pounds," she declared. "That is whyI sent for my husband this morning and asked him to take me back toEngland. I am getting afraid of the place. My luck seems to have gonefor ever."
He laughed softly.
"That doesn't sound like you," he observed. "Besides, what does itmatter? Write me out some more cheques when we get back. Date them thisyear or next, or the year after--it really doesn't matter a bit. Myfortune is at your disposal. If it amuses you to lose a thousand poundsin the afternoon, and twice as much at night, pray do."
She laughed at him. There was a certain glamour about his words whichappealed to her fancy.
"Why, you talk like a prince," she murmured, "and yet you know howimpossible it is."
"Is it?" he asked quietly.
She rose abruptly from her place. There was something wrong--she felt itin the atmosphere--something that was almost choking her.
"Let us go back," she insisted.
He ordered the car without another word and they started off homewards.It was not until they were nearing Monte Carlo that he spoke of anythingsave the slightest topics.
"You must have a little more money," he told her, in a matter-of-facttone. "That is a necessity. There is no need to worry your husband. Ishall go and bring you a thousand pounds. You can give me the chequeslater."
She sat looking steadfastly ahead of her. She seemed to see her numbersspread out before her, to hear the click of the ball, the croupier'svoice, the thrill of victory.
"I have taken more money from you than I meant to, already, Mr.Draconmeyer," she protested. "Does Linda know how much you have lentme?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"What is the use of telling her? She does not understand. She has neverfelt the gambling fever, the joy of it, the excitement. She would not bestrong enough. You and I understand. I have felt it in the money-marketsof the world, where one plays with millions, where a mistake might meanruin. That is why the tables seem dull for me, but all the same it comeshome to me."
She felt the fierce stimulus of anxious thought. She knew very well thatnotwithstanding his quiet manner, she had reason to fear the man who satby her side. She feared his self-restraint, she feared the light whichsometimes gleamed in his eyes when he fancied himself unobserved. Hegave her no cause for complaint. All the time his behaviour had beenirreproachable. And yet she felt, somehow or other, like a bird who isbeing hunted by a trapper, a trapper who knows his business, w
ho goesabout it with quiet confidence, with absolute certainty. There wassomething like despair in her heart.
"Well, I suppose I shall have to stay here," she said, "and I can't stayhere without playing. I will take a thousand more, if you will lend itto me."
"You shall have it directly we get to the hotel," he told her. "Don'thurry with the cheques, and don't date them too soon. Remember that youmust have something to live on when you get back."
"I am going to win," she declared confidently. "I am going to win enoughto pay you back every penny."
"I won't say that I hope not," he observed, "for your sake, but it willcertainly give me no pleasure to have the money back again. You are sucha wonderful person," he added, dropping his voice, "that I rather liketo feel that I can be a little useful to you."
They had neared the end of their journey and Mr. Draconmeyer touched herarm. A faint smile was playing about his lips. Certainly the fates werebefriending him! He said nothing, but her eyes followed the slightmotion of his head. Coming down the steps from Ciro's were her husbandand Felicia Roche. Violet looked at them for a moment. Then she turnedher head away.
"Most inopportune," she sighed, with a little attempt at gaiety. "Shallwe meet later at the Club?"
"Assuredly," Mr. Draconmeyer replied. "I will send the money to yourroom."
"Thank you once more," she said, "and thank you, too, for my drive. Ihave enjoyed it very much. I am very glad indeed that I had the courageto make you tell me the truth."
"I hope," he whispered, as he handed her out, "that you will never lackthe courage to ask me anything."