CHAPTER XVI--PLAYING WITH BOB
It took a great deal of courage for Bob to go down to breakfast the nextmorning. In fact, he had never done anything before in his life thatdemanded so much courage. He pictured his entrance, anticipating whatwould happen; he didn't try to deceive himself. The monocle-man wouldtap him on the shoulder. "You are my prisoner," he would say. And thenit would be "exit" for Bob amid the exclamations and in the face of theaccumulated staring of the company.
Bob wasn't going to play the craven now, though, so he marcheddown-stairs and into the breakfast-room, his head well up. With thatsmile on his lips and the frosty light in his blue eyes, he looked notunlike a young Viking fearlessly presenting a bold brow to the enemywhile his ship is sinking beneath him. He acted just as if he hadn'tbeen away and as if nothing had happened.
"Good-morning, people," he said in his cheeriest.
For a moment there was a tombstone silence while Bob, not seeming tonotice it, dropped down in a convenient place at the table. Hisvis-a-vis, as luck, or ill-luck would have it, was the monocle-man. Bobfelt the shivers stealing over him. But the monocle-man, too, acted asif nothing had happened. He didn't get up and tap Bob on the shoulder.Perhaps he wished to finish his breakfast first.
"Aw!--Have some toast," he observed to Bob. "Mrs. Ralston's toast isreally delicious."
"No," said Bob airily. "I don't like that English kind of toast. Makesme think of rusk! No taste to it! Give me good old American toast withplenty of butter on it."
"Aw!" said the monocle-man.
Bob didn't stop there. He appealed to the bishop and carried thediscussion on to the doctor. He even went so far, a daredevil look inhis sanguine blue eyes now, as to ask Miss Gerald's opinion. MissGerald, however, pretended not to hear. Her devoted admirer was close athand and Bob saw the hammer-thrower's brows knit at sight of him. Bob inhis new mood didn't care a straw now and looked straight back at thehammer-thrower, as if daring him to do his worst. For an instant hethought the hammer-thrower was going to say something, but he didn't.Perhaps second thought told him it would be better taste to wait, for helifted his heavy shoulders with rather a contemptuous or pitying shrugand paid no further attention to luckless Bob.
The latter kept up a gay conversation between bites, professing to bequite unaware of a certain extraordinary reticence with which his lightpersiflage was received. He looked around to see if Gee-gee and Gid-upwere anywhere visible and saw that they were not. This did not surprisehim, as theatrical ladies are usually late risers and like to breakfastin their rooms; nor would they be apt to mingle promiscuously with theother guests. Mrs. Ralston, Mrs. Dan and Mrs. Clarence were also notabout. Bob was thankful Mrs. Ralston needed most of the morning byherself, or with sundry experts, to beautify; he didn't care to see hishostess just yet. It was hard enough to meet her fair niece, MissGerald, under the circumstances.
"I understand we have two new arrivals in the professional entertainingline," said Bob to the monocle-man.
"Aw!--how interesting!" replied the other. Bob couldn't get much of a"rise" out of him, though unvaryingly affable in his manner toward theyoung man. "Try some of this marmalade--do--it's Scotch, you know. Allmarmalade ought to be Scotch. Dislike intensely the English make!"
"How unpatriotic!" said Bob cynically. Really, the monocle-man did itvery well. He was a fine imitation.
"Aw!" he said once more.
And then Bob began to play with him. Dear old dad who was somewhat of abibliomaniac had, on one or two of Bob's vacation trips to London,introduced the lad to many quaint, out-of-the-way nooks and corners. NowBob drew on the source of information thus gleaned and angled with hisone-eye-glassed neighbor. But the monocle-man fenced beautifully; heknew more than Bob. And when the latter had exhausted himself, themonocle-man, with a few twinkles behind his staring window-pane, playedwith Bob. He showed him as a mere child for ignorance of the subject,and drawled so brilliantly that some of the others became interested,though professing not to see that Bob was there. When the monocle-manhad finished, Bob felt abashed. He gazed upon the other with new andwondrous respect. He had attempted the infantile and amateurish game ofunmasking the other--of exhibiting his crass ignorance and letting theothers draw their own conclusions--and he had been literally overwhelmedin his efforts.
Having shown Bob the futility of trying to play with him, themonocle-man again offered Bob the marmalade. His manner of doing it madeBob think of a jailer who believed in the humane treatment of prisonersand who liked to see them well-fed. Bob for the second time refused themarmalade and did it most emphatically. Whereupon the monocle-mansmiled.
At that moment Bob met the gaze of the temperamental young thing. Therewere dark rings under her eyes and she looked paler than he had everseen her. Also, there was a certain fascinated wonder, not unmixed withsome deeper feeling, in her expression. She was, no doubt, absolutelyastounded to see Bob there, and talking with the monocle-man. Bobsurmised she would be waiting for him somewhere later to expressherself, and he was not mistaken. Bob got up. As he did so, he glancedat the monocle-man. Would he be permitted to go, or would the denouementnow happen? Would the other, alas, arise?
He did nothing of the kind. He let Bob have a little more line. He evensuffered him to walk away, at the same time smiling once more at vacancyor the rack of toast. Of course the temperamental young thing hailed Bobshortly after he was out of the room. He expected that. She camehurrying up to him, excitement and terror in her eyes.
"Flee!" she whispered.
"I won't do it," answered Bob sturdily.
"Why did you come back?" Agitatedly, "What a rash thing to do! Likewalking into the lions' den."
"Well, the principal lion was nice and polite, anyhow."
"Could you not see he was only just"--she sought for a word--"dallyingwith you?"
"He made me see that," Bob confessed rather gloomily. "He made me feellike thirty cents. I guess he's got my goat. And to think I thought hima blamed fool. I tell you I'm learning something these days; I'm takinga course they don't have in college, all right."
"Why do you waste time talking?" said the girl. "Every moment isprecious. Go, or you are lost."
"That sounds like the stage," replied Bob.
She came closer, her temperamental gaze burning. "Will this make youserious?" she asked almost fiercely. "I told."
"Eh?"
"I told all," she repeated.
"You did?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"Last night."
"Hum!" said Bob. "That makes it a little worse, that is all."
"I was mad," she said, "at the way you--you--"
"I think I understand."
"Why--why don't you get angry and--"
"And curse you the way they do in plays?" He laughed a littlemirthlessly. "What's the use? It wouldn't do any good if I dragged youaround by the hair."
"It's just that attitude of yours," she said, breathing hard, "that hasmade me perfectly furious."
"Who'd you tell?" Bob eyed her contemplatively.
"Lord Stan--The monocle-man, as you call him."
"Whew!" Bob whistled. "You went straight to headquarters, didn't you?"
"He came up to me on the porch just after you had left, and--and--"
"It's quite plain," said Bob gently. "You couldn't hold in. Don't knowas I ought to blame you much."
"I wish you wouldn't act like that," she returned passionately. "Don'tyou hate me?"
He looked at her from his superior height. "No. Now that I think of it,you only did the right and moral thing. After all"--he seemed to bespeaking from the hammer-thrower's high judicial plane--"it was yourduty to tell."
"Duty!" she shot back at him. "I didn't do it for that, or"--with suddenscorn--"because it was the moral thing. I did it because--becauseyou--you had hurt me and--and I wanted to hurt you the worst way--thevery worst way I could--"
"Well, that sounds very human," replied Bob soothingly. "It's the o
ldlaw. Eye for an eye! Tit for tat! _Quid pro quo!_" That hammer-throwerwas getting him into the Latin habit.
"You must not speak like that. You _must_ hate me--despise me--Ibetrayed you--betrayed--"
Bob looked at her sympathetically. She really was suffering. "Oh, no,you didn't. You only thought you did," he said.
"I did! I did! And afterward I felt like Salome with the head of Johnthe Baptist."
Bob twisted his handsome head and lifted a hand to his neck. "Well, it'sreally not so bad as that," he returned in a tone intended to beconsoling. "Anyhow, it's very brave of you to come and tell me aboutit."
"Brave!" she scoffed, the temperamental breast rising. "Why, I justblurted it all right out--how I discovered you in my room--how I turnedon the light and how you dropped the brooch to the floor!"
For a few moments both were silent. Then Bob spoke: "How'd it be, if wecalled bygones, bygones, and just be friends?" he said gravely."Honestly, I believe I could like you an awful lot as a friend."
"Don't!" she said hoarsely. "Or--or I can't hold in. My! but you aregood."
"Isn't that the sound of music?" said Bob suddenly.
"I--I believe it is."
"A tango, by jove! Think of tangoing right after breakfast! Some one_is_ beginning early. What are we coming to in these degenerate days?"Bob wanted to take her thoughts off that other disagreeable subject. Hisown sudden and unexpected appearance had, no doubt, been quite upsettingto those other guests. That tango music had a wild irresponsible sound,as if the some one who was banging the concert-grand in the big musicsalon was endeavoring to turn the general trend of fancy into moresymphonious channels. He, or she, was a musical good Samaritan. Bob heldout a ceremonious arm to the temperamental young thing. "Shall we?" hesaid. "Why not?"
"You mean--?"
"Tango with me? That is, if you are not above tangoing with a--"
She slipped an uncertain little hand on his arm.
"It may be my last, for a long time," he said gaily. "While we live, letus live."
But when they entered they saw it was the man with the monocle who satat the big, wonderfully carved piano. His fingers were fairly flying;his face was a bit more twisted up to keep the monocle from falling off,while he was flinging his hands about over the keys. At sight of him,the temperamental little thing breathed quickly and would have drawnback, but Bob drew her forward. The monocle-man's face did not change ashe glanced over his shoulder to regard them; he had a faculty forhitting the right keys without looking. Bob put a big reassuring armabout a slim waist. He tangoed only to show the temperamental littlething that he forgave her. But her feet were not so light as ordinarilyand the dance rather dragged. Once Bob looked down; why, she wasn't muchbigger than a child.
"Friends?" he asked.
Her little hand clutched tighter for answer, and the monocle-man playedmore madly. It was as if he were making the puppets fly around while hepulled the strings. He seemed having the best kind of a time. There wasnow a whimsical look in his eyes as they followed Bob.
That was one of the longest days Bob ever knew. The temperamental thinghad told him they were coming to arrest him. Well, why didn't they? Hisappearing unexpectedly on the spot like that may have caused them tochange their minds. He included in the "them" Mrs. Ralston and her nieceand he could only conclude they all meant to "dally" with him, in MissDolly's phraseology, a little longer. But surely they had enoughevidence to go right ahead and let justice (?) take its course. What thetemperamental little thing had confessed would be quite sufficient initself, for their purpose.
Bob began to get impatient; he didn't like being "dallied" with. In hisdesperate mood, he desired to meet the issue at once and since "it" wasbound to happen, he wanted it to happen right off. Then he wouldrobustly proclaim his innocence--aye, and fight for it with all hismight. He was in a fighting mood.
Mrs. Ralston's demeanor toward him--when in the natural order of eventshe was obliged to meet that lady--added to his feeling of utterhelplessness. She, like the monocle-man, acted as if nothing hadhappened, seeming to see nothing extraordinary or surprising in hisbeing there. She treated him just as if he hadn't been away and talkedin the most natural manner about the weather or other commonplacetopics. She was graciousness itself, even demanding playfully if hehadn't thought of any more French compliments?
Bob stammered he had not. The fact that Miss Gerald was near andoverheard all they said didn't add to his mental composure. Gwendoline'sviolet eyes had such a peculiar look. Bob hoped and prayed she wouldpreserve that manner of cold and haughty aloofness. He wouldn't haveexchanged a word with her now for all the world, if he had had anychoice in the matter. Did she divine his inward shrinking from anyfurther talk with her? Did she realize she was the one especial personBob didn't want to converse with, under the circumstances? It may be shedid so realize; also, that she deliberately sought to add to hisdiscomfiture. Possibly, she felt no punishment could be too great forone who had sunk so low as he had.
At any rate, the day was yet young when, like a proud princess, shestood suddenly before him. Bob had taken refuge in that summer-housewhere she had proposed (ha! ha!) to him. He had been noting that Mrs.Ralston seemed to have several new gardeners working for her and it hadflashed across his mind that these gardeners were of the monocle-mantype. They were imitation gardeners. One kept a furtive eye on Bob. Hewas under surveillance. Now he could understand why the monocle-man lethim flutter this way and that, with seeming unconcern. Oh, he was beingdallied with, sure enough! That monocle-man was argus-eyed. Bob had hada sample of his cleverness at the breakfast-table.
Miss Gerald's shadow fell abruptly at Bob's feet. He saw it before hesaw her--a radiant, accusing patrician presence. The girl carried a golfstick, but there was no caddy in sight.
"Mr. Bennett," said Miss Gerald, with customary directness, "do you knowwho poisoned my aunt's dog?"
Bob scrambled to his feet awkwardly. Her loveliness alone was enough toembarrass him. "No," he said.
"He was poisoned that night you left," she said, and went on studyinghim.
Bob pondered heavily. If the dog had been killed with a golf stick forexample, he might have been to blame. "You are sure he was poisoned?" heasked with an effort.
"Certainly." In surprise.
"Well, I didn't do it," said Bob.
"Were you in any way responsible for it?" She stood like an angel of theflaming sword in the doorway, where the sunlight framed her figure. Sherather intoxicated poor Bob.
"Not to my knowledge," he said. Of course the commodore might havepoisoned the dog, but it was unlikely. Probably that inside-operator, orhis outside pal had "done the deed." A dog would be in their way.
Miss Gerald considered. "There is another question I should like to askyou, Mr. Bennett," she said presently.
"Go on," returned Bob, with dark forebodings.
"Are you a sleep-walker?"
"No."
"Then why do you go wandering around nights when every one else hasretired? Last night, for example?"
"So that hammer-thrower told you, did he?" remarked Bob. "I thought hewould."
"Do you blame him?"
"Oh, I suppose it was his duty." Every one seemed "telling" on Bob justat present.
"You do not deny it?"
"Why should I?"
"Then we may accept his version of the story?"
"Yes. I presume it was correct."
Again Miss Gerald remained thoughtful and Bob glanced out toward thegardeners. One of them seemed to have edged nearer. Bob smiled a littleglumly. After having caught him in the web, the spiders were now windingthe strands around and around him. Spiders do that when they don't wantto devour their victim right off. They mummify the victim, as it were,and tuck him away for the morrow.
"Why"--the accusing presence was again speaking--"did you go down-stairsthat first night of your arrival, after all the household had retired?"
Bob would have given a great deal not to answer that, but he had to.
"Iwas showing some people out."
"Your accomplices?"
"They might be called that." Miserably. He wouldn't "give away" Dan andthe others, unless he had to--unless truth compelled him to designatethem by name as his accomplices.
"Are you aware, Mr. Bennett, of the seriousness of your answer?"
"Yes, I know. But how did you know--that I went down-stairs?"
"I thought I heard some one go down. And then I got up and you went bymy door, and I looked out, ever so quietly. You went in Dolly's room andshe woke up and caught you trying to take her brooch."
Bob was silent. What was the use of talking?
"Well, why don't you speak?"
"It is true I went in Miss Dolly's room, but I thought it was my room,"said Bob monotonously. "It was a mistake." And Bob told how the broochhappened to fall to the floor. Strange to say, truth didn't ring in hisaccents. He hadn't much confidence at that moment in the old saw thattruth is mighty and will prevail. Truth wasn't mighty; it was a monsterthat sucked your heart's blood. And Bob gazed once more with thatfamished look upon Miss Gerald. He found her a joy to the eye. Thoughshe stood in a practical pose, the curves of her gracious and proudyoung figure were like ardent lines of poetry in a matutinal andpassionate hymn to beauty. And Bob's lips straightway yearned to singhexameters to loveliness in the abstract--and in the flesh--instead ofplodding along half-heartedly through unconvincing and purposelessexplanations.
"You certainly do look fine to-day!" burst from Bob. It wasn't exactly ahexameter nor yet an iambic mode of expression. But it had to come out.
Roses blossomed on the girl's proud cheek. Bob's explosive anduncontrollable ardency would have been disconcerting, under anycircumstances, but under such as those of the present--Miss Gerald'seyes flashed.
"Isn't--isn't that rather irrelevant?" she said after a moment's pause.
"I--yes, I guess it is," confessed Bob, and his head slowly fell. Helooked at the hard marble pavement.
A moment the girl stood with breast stirring, like an indignant goddess."Have you--have you any information to volunteer?" she said at lengthicily.
"Oh, I don't have to volunteer," answered Bob. And then rushed on to aNiagara of disaster. "Why don't you ask that hammer-thrower? I supposeyou'd believe _anything_"--he couldn't keep back the bitterjealousy--"he tells you."
An instant eyes met eyes. Bob's now were stubborn, if forlorn andmiserable. They braved the indignant, outraged violet ones. He evenlaughed, savagely, moodily. What would he not have given if she wouldonly believe him, instead of--? But it was not to be. Yet this girl hadhis very soul. His miserable and forlorn eyes told her that. Whose eyeswould have turned first, in that visual contest is a matter ofuncertainty, for just then the enthusiastic voice of Gee-gee was heard"through the land."
"Why, Mr. Bennett--you here? So glad to see you!"
Bob forgot all about heroics. Gee-gee drifted in as if she were greetingan old and very dear friend, instead of a casual acquaintance, uponwhom, indeed, she had rather forced herself, on a certain memorableevening. Bob wilted. When he recovered a little, Miss Gerald was gone.Below them the gardener who had caught Bob's eye now drew a bit nearer.Bob turned on Gee-gee.