Read The Bandbox Page 12


  XII

  WON'T YOU WALK INTO MY PARLOUR?

  Slipping quickly into the room through an opening hardly wide enough toadmit his spare, small body, the man as quickly shut and locked the doorand pocketed the key. This much accomplished, he swung on his heel and,without further movement, fastened his attention anew upon the girl.

  Standing so--hands clasped loosely before him, his head thrust forward atrifle above his rounded shoulders, pale eyes peering from their networkof wrinkles with a semi-humourous suggestion, thin lips curved in anapologetic grin: his likeness to the Mr. Iff known to Staff wassomething more than striking. One needed to be intimately and recentlyacquainted with Iff's appearance to be able to detect the almostimperceptible points of difference between the two. Had Staff been therehe might have questioned the colour of this man's eyes, which showed alighter tint than Iff's, and their expression--here vigilant andpredatory in contrast with Iff's languid, half-derisive look. The lineof the cheek from nose to mouth, too, was deeper and more hard thanwith Iff; and there was a hint of elevation in the nostrils that lentthe face a guise of malice and evil--like the shadow of an impersonalsneer.

  The look he bent upon Eleanor was almost a sneer: a smile in partcontemptuous, in part studious; as though he pondered a problem in humanchemistry from the view-point of a seasoned and experienced scientist.He cocked his head a bit to one side and stared insolently beneathhalf-lowered lids, now and again nodding ever so slightly as if inconfirmation of some unspoken conclusion.

  Against the cold, inflexible purpose in his manner, the pitiful prayerexpressed in the girl's attitude spent itself without effect. Her handsdropped to her sides; her head drooped wearily, hopelessly; her posepersonified despondency profound and irremediable.

  When he had timed his silence cunningly, to ensure the most impressiveeffect, the man moved, shifting from one foot to the other, and spoke.

  "Well, Nelly ...?"

  His voice, modulated to an amused drawl, was much like Iff's.

  The girl's lips moved noiselessly for an instant before she managed toarticulate.

  "So," she said in a quiet tone of horror--"So it was you all the time!"

  "What was me?" enquired the man inelegantly if with spirit.

  "I mean," she said, "you _were_ after the necklace, after all."

  "To be sure," he said pertly. "What did you think?"

  "I hoped it wasn't so," she said brokenly. "When you escaped yesterdaymorning, and when tonight I found the necklace--I was so glad!"

  "Then you did find it?" he demanded promptly.

  She gave him a look of contempt. "You know it!"

  "My dear child," he expostulated insincerely, "what makes you say that?"

  "You don't mean to pretend you didn't steal the bandbox from me, justnow, in that taxicab, trying to get the necklace?" she demanded.

  He waited an instant, then shrugged. "I presume denial would beuseless."

  "Quite."

  "All right then: I won't deny anything."

  She moved away from the telephone to a chair wherein she dropped as ifexhausted, hands knitted together in her lap, her chin resting on herchest.

  "You see," said the man, "I wanted to spare you the knowledge that youwere being held up by your fond parent."

  "I should have known you," she said, "but for that disguise--the beardand motor-coat."

  "That just goes to show that filial affection will out," commented theman. "You haven't seen me for seven years--"

  "Except on the steamer," she corrected.

  "True, but there I kept considerately out of your way."

  "Considerately!" she echoed in a bitter tone.

  "Can you question it?" he asked, lightly ironic, moving noiselessly toand fro while appraising the contents of the room with swift, searchingglances.

  "As, for instance, your actions tonight...."

  "They simply prove my contention, dear child." He paused, gazing down ather with a quizzical leer. "My very presence here affirms my entiredevotion to your welfare."

  She looked up, dumfounded by his effrontery. "Is it worth while to wasteyour time so?" she enquired. "You failed the first time tonight, but youcan't fail now; I'm alone, I can't oppose you, and you know I won'traise an alarm. Why not stop talking, take what you want and go? Andleave me to be accused of theft unless I choose to tell the world--whatit wouldn't believe--that my own father stole the necklace from me!"

  "Ah, but how unjust you are!" exclaimed the man. "How little you knowme, how little you appreciate a father's affection!"

  "And you tried to rob me not two hours ago!"

  "Yes," he said cheerfully: "I admit it. If I had got away with itthen--well and good. You need never have known who it was. Unhappily forboth of us, you fooled me."

  "For both of us?" she repeated blankly.

  "Precisely. It puts you in a most serious position. That's why I'mhere--to save you."

  In spite of her fatigue, the girl rose to face him. "What do you mean?"

  "Simply that between us we've gummed this business up neatly--hard andfast. You see--I hadn't any use for that hat; I stopped in at anall-night telegraph station and left it to be delivered to Miss Landis,never dreaming what the consequences would be. Immediately thereafter,but too late, I learned--I've a way of finding out what's going on, youknow--that Miss Landis had already put the case in the hands of thepolice. It makes it very serious for you--the bandbox returned, thenecklace still in your possession, your wild, incredible yarn aboutmeaning to restore it ..."

  In her overwrought and harassed condition, the sophistry illuded her;she was sensible only of the menace his words distilled. She saw herselftricked and trapped, meshed in a web of damning circumstance; everythingwas against her--appearances, the hands of all men, the cruel accidentthat had placed the necklace in her keeping, even her parentage. For shewas the daughter of a notorious thief, a man whose name was aninternational byword. Who would believe her protestations ofinnocence--presuming that the police should find her before she couldreach either Staff or Miss Landis?

  "But," she faltered, white to her lips, "I can take it to hernow--instantly--"

  Instinctively she clutched her handbag. The man's eyes appreciated themovement. His face was shadowed for a thought by the flying cloud of asardonic smile. And the girl saw and read that smile.

  "Unless," she stammered, retreating from him a pace or two--"unlessyou--"

  He silenced her with a reassuring gesture.

  "You do misjudge me!" he said in a voice that fairly wept.

  Hope flamed in her eyes. "You mean--you can't mean--"

  Again he lifted his hand. "I mean that you misconstrue my motive. Far beit from me to deny that I am--what I am. We have ever been plain-spokenwith one another. You told me what I was seven years ago, when you leftme, took another name, disowned me and ..." His voice broke affectinglyfor an instant. "No matter," he resumed, with an obvious effort. "Thepast is past, and I am punished for all that I have ever done or evermay do, by the loss of my daughter's confidence and affection. It is myfault; I have no right to complain. But now ... Yes, I admit I tried tosteal the necklace in the Park tonight. But I failed, and failing I didthat which got you into trouble. Now I'm here to help you extricateyourself. Don't worry about the necklace--keep it, hide it where youwill. I don't want and shan't touch, it on any conditions."

  "You mean I'm free to return it to Miss Landis?" she gasped,incredulous.

  "Just that."

  "Then--where can I find her?"

  He shrugged. "There's the rub. She's left town."

  She steadied herself with a hand on the table. "Still I can followher...."

  "Yes--and must. That's what I've come to tell you and to help you do."

  "Where has she gone?"

  "To her country place in Connecticut, on the Sound shore."

  "How can I get there? By railroad?" Eleanor started toward thetelephone.

  "Hold on!" he said sharply. "What are you going to do?"

/>   "Order a time-table--"

  "Useless," he commented curtly. "Every terminal in the city is alreadywatched by detectives. They'd spot you in a twinkling. Your onlysalvation is to get to Miss Landis before they catch you."

  In her excitement and confusion she could only stand and stare. Asolitary thought dominated her consciousness, dwarfing and distortingall others: she was in danger of arrest, imprisonment, the shame andignominy of public prosecution. Even though she were to be cleared ofthe charge, the stain of it would cling to her, an ineradicable blot.

  And every avenue of escape was closed to her! Her lips trembled and hereyes brimmed, glistening. Despair lay cold in her heart.

  She was so weary and distraught with the strain of nerves taut andvibrant with emotion, that she was by no means herself. She had no timefor either thought or calm consideration; and even with plenty of time,she would have found herself unable to think clearly and calmly.

  "What am I to do, then?" she whispered.

  "Trust me," the man replied quietly. "There's just one way to reach thiswoman without risk of detection--and that's good only if we act _now_.Get your things together; pay your bill; leave word to deliver yourtrunks to your order; and come with me. I have a motor-car waiting roundthe corner. In an hour we can be out of the city. By noon I can have youat Miss Landis' home."

  "Yes," she cried, almost hysterical--"yes, that's the way!"

  "Then do what packing you must. Here, I'll lend a hand."

  Fortunately, Eleanor had merely opened her trunks and bags, removingonly such garments and toilet accessories as she had required for dinnerand the theatre. These lay scattered about the room, easily to begathered up and stuffed with careless haste into her trunks. In tenminutes the man was turning the keys in their various locks, while shestood waiting with a small handbag containing a few necessaries, amotor-coat over her arm, a thick veil draped from her hat.

  "One minute," the man said, straightening up from the last piece ofluggage. "You were telephoning when I came in?"

  "Yes--to Mr. Staff, to explain why I failed to bring him the bandbox."

  "_Hmmm._" He pondered this, chin in hand. "He'll be fretting. Does heknow where you are?"

  "No--I forgot to tell him."

  "That's good. Still, you'd better call him up again and put his mind atrest. It may gain us a few hours."

  "What am I to say?"

  She lifted her hand to the receiver.

  "Tell him you were cut off and had trouble getting his number again. Sayyour motor broke down in Central Park and you lost your way trying towalk home. Say you're tired and don't want to be disturbed till noon;that you have the necklace safe and will give it to him if he will calltomorrow."

  Eleanor took a deep breath, gave the number to the switchboard operatorand before she had time to give another instant's consideration to whatshe was doing, found herself in conversation with Staff, reciting thecommunication outlined by her evil genius in response to his eagerquestioning.

  The man was at her elbow all the while she talked--so close that hecould easily overhear the other end of the dialogue. This was with apurpose made manifest when Staff asked Eleanor where she was stopping,when instantly the little man clapped his palm over the transmitter.

  "Tell him the St. Regis," he said in a sharp whisper.

  Her eyes demanded the reason why.

  "Don't stop to argue--do as I say: it'll give us more time. The St.Regis!"

  He removed his hand. Blindly she obeyed, reiterating the name to Staffand presently saying good-bye.

  "And now--not a second to spare--hurry!"

  In the hallway, while they waited for the elevator, he had furtherinstructions for her.

  "Go to the desk and ask for your bill," he said, handing her the key toher room. "You've money, of course?... Say that you're calledunexpectedly away and will send a written order for your trunks early inthe morning. If the clerk wants an address, tell him the Auditorium,Chicago. Now ..."

  They stepped from the dimly lighted hall into the brilliant cage of theelevator. It dropped, silently, swiftly, to the ground floor, somehowsuggesting to the girl the workings of her implacable, irresistibledestiny. So precisely, she felt, she was being whirled on to her fate,like a dry leaf in a gale, with no more volition, as impotent to directher course....

  Still under the obsession of this idea, she went to the desk, paid herbill and said what she had been told to say about her trunks. Beyondthat point she did not go, chiefly because she had forgotten and was toonumb with fatigue to care. The clerk's question as to her address failedto reach her understanding; she turned away without responding and wentto join at the door the man who seemed able to sway her to his whim.

  She found herself walking in the dusky streets, struggling to keep upwith the rapid pace set by the man at her side.

  After some time they paused before a building in a side street. By itslow facade and huge sliding doors she dimly perceived it to be a privategarage. In response to a signal of peculiar rhythm knuckled upon thewood by her companion, the doors rolled back. A heavy-eyed mechanicsaluted them drowsily. On the edge of the threshold a high-powered carwith a close-coupled body stood ready.

  With the docility of that complete indifference which is bred ofdeadening weariness, she submitted to being helped to her seat, arrangedher veil to protect her face and sat back with folded hands, submissiveto endure whatsoever chance or mischance there might be in store forher.

  The small man took the seat by her side; the mechanic cranked and jumpedto his place. The motor snorted, trembling like a thoroughbred about torun a race, then subsiding with a sonorous purr swept sedately out intothe deserted street, swung round a corner into Broadway, settled itstires into the grooves of the car-tracks and leaped northwards like anarrow.

  The thoroughfare was all but bare of traffic. Now and again they had toswing away from the car-tracks to pass a surface-car; infrequently theypassed early milk wagons, crawling reluctantly over their routes.Pedestrians were few and far between, and only once, when they dippedinto the hollow at Manhattan Street, was it necessary to reduce speed indeference to the law as bodied forth in a balefully glaring, solitarypoliceman.

  The silken song of six cylinders working in absolute harmony was assoothing as a lullaby, the sweep of the soft, fresh morning air pastone's cheeks as soft and quieting as a mother's caress. Eleanor yieldedto their influence as naturally as a tired child. Her eyes closed; shebreathed regularly, barely conscious of the sensation of resistlessflight.

  Hot and level, the rays of the rising sun smote her face and roused heras the car crossed McComb's Dam Bridge; and for a little timethereafter she was drowsily sentient--aware of wheeling streets andendless, marching ranks of houses. Then again she dozed, recovering hersenses only when, after a lapse of perhaps half an hour, the noise ofthe motor ceased and the big machine slowed down smoothly to a deadhalt.

  She opened her eyes, comprehending dully a complete change in the aspectof the land. They had stopped on the right of the road, in front of alow-roofed wooden building whose signboard creaking overhead in thebreeze named the place an inn. To the left lay a stretch of woodland;and there were trees, too, behind the inn, but in less thick array, sothat it was possible to catch through their trunks and foliage glimpsesof blue water splashed with golden sunlight. A soft air fanned in offthe water, sweet and clean. The sky was high and profoundly blue,unflecked by cloud.

  With a feeling of gratitude, she struggled to recollect her wits andrealise her position; but still her weariness was heavy upon her. Theman she called her father was coming down the path from the inn doorway.He carried a tumbler brimming with a pale amber liquid. Walking round toher side of the car he offered it.

  "Drink this," she heard him say in a pleasant voice; "it'll help youbrace up."

  Obediently she accepted the glass and drank. The soul of the stuff brokeout in delicate, aromatic bubbles beneath her nostrils. There was astinging but refreshing feeling in her mouth and throat. She
said"champagne" sleepily to herself, and with a word of thanks returned anempty glass.

  She heard the man laugh, and in confusion wondered why. If anything, shefelt more sleepy than before.

  He climbed back into his seat. A question crawled in her brain,tormenting. Finally she managed to enunciate a part of it:

  "How much longer ...?"

  "Oh, not a great ways now."

  The response seemed to come from a far distance. She felt the car movingbeneath her and ... no more. Sleep possessed her utterly, heavy anddreamless....

  There followed several phases of semi-consciousness wherein she moved byinstinct alone, seeing men as trees walking, the world as through amist.

  In one, she was being helped out of the motor-car. Then somebody washolding her arm and guiding her along a path of some sort. Planks ranghollowly beneath her feet, and the hand on her arm detained her. Avoice said: "This way--just step right out; you're perfectly safe."Mechanically she obeyed. She felt herself lurch as if to fall, and thenhands caught and supported her as she stood on something that swayed.The voice that had before spoken was advising her to sit down and takeit easy. Accordingly, she sat down. Her seat was rocking like a swing,and she heard dimly the splash of waters; these merged unaccountablyagain into the purring of a motor....

  And then somebody had an arm round her waist and she was walking,bearing heavily upon that support, partly because she sorely needed itbut the more readily because she knew somehow--intuitively--that the armwas a woman's. A voice assured her from time to time: "Not muchfarther ..." And she was sure it was a woman's voice.... Then she wasbeing helped to ascend a steep, long staircase....

  She came to herself for a moment, probably not long after climbing thestairs. She was sitting on the edge of a bed in a small, low-ceiledroom, cheaply and meagrely furnished. Staring wildly about her, shetried to realise these surroundings. There were two windows, both open,admitting floods of sea air and sunlight; beyond them she saw greenboughs swaying slowly, and through the boughs patches of water, blue andgold. There was a door opposite the bed; it stood open, revealing avista of long, bare hallway, regularly punctuated by doors.

  The drumming in her temples pained and bewildered her. Her head feltdense and heavy. She tried to think and failed. But the knowledgepersisted that something was very wrong with her world--something thatmight be remedied, set right, if only she could muster up strength tomove and ... think.

  Abruptly the doorway was filled by the figure of a woman, a strapping,brawny creature with the arms and shoulders of a man and a great,coarse, good-natured face. She came directly to the bed, sat down besidethe girl, passed an arm behind her shoulders and offered her a glass.

  "You've just woke up, ain't you?" she said soothingly. "Drink this andlay down and you'll feel better before long. You have had a turn, and nomistake; but you'll be all right now, never fear. Come now, drink it,and I'll help you loose your clothes a bit, so 's you can becomfortable...."

  Somehow her tone inspired Eleanor with confidence. She drank, submittedto being partially undressed, and lay down. Sleep overcame herimmediately: she suffered a sensation of dropping plummet-wise into agreat pit of oblivion....