*CHAPTER X.*
*A WORD TO THE WISE.*
Sir Clement stood before a looking-glass in the library surveyinghimself with a certain saturnine humour. He was just as fond ofanalysing himself as other people, and he had just come to theconclusion that there was a deal to be said from the Darwinian point ofview.
"Is it the morning-coat or the top-hat?" he asked himself. "Howterribly like a dissipated old ape I look, to be sure! And yet in avelvet dinner-jacket I am quite--well, picturesque. On the whole, thatis better than being handsome. Ah, somebody is going to suffer for this!Come in."
The door opened, and Paul Lopez came almost inaudibly into the room.Not for a moment did Frobisher discontinue his critical examination.
"I'm going to a garden-party," he explained. "I'm taking my womenfolk tothe Duchess's afternoon affair. I was just saying to myself thatsomebody would have to suffer for this."
Lopez dropped into a chair and lighted a cigarette quite coolly.
"Nobody would suspect you of this personal sacrifice without someultimate benefit," he said.
"Spoken like a book, my prince of rascals," Frobisher cried gaily. "Isee they have adjourned those two inquests again."
The two men looked at one another and smiled. They were not pleasantsmiles, and Frobisher's teeth bared in a sudden grin that was not goodto see. He crossed to the table near which Lopez was seated, and beganto play with a cheque-book.
"Artistic things, these," he said. "Observe the beauty of thewatermark, the fine instinct of the oblong; note the contrast betweenthe pale pink of the legend and the flaming red of the stamp. My Lopez,a cheque, properly verified, and engagingly autographed, is veritably ajoyful thing."
"A study in itself," Lopez said without emotion. "What are you after,you rascal?"
"My Lopez, you are taking liberties. I am a baronet of old creation,whereas you are what you are."
"Arcades ambo. You sent for me, and I am here; my time is money. Oncemore, what are you driving at?"
"I'm puzzled," Frobisher replied, still ogling his cheque-book lovingly."Frankly, I'm puzzled. If I were not so busy with the big things I'dsoon solve the little ones. Are you ever puzzled, Lopez?"
"Occasionally," Lopez replied. "When people tell me the truth, forinstance. There was one man who had everything to gain by lying to me,and he didn't do it. That was a tough job."
Frobisher did not appear to be listening. With a pen in his hand hewrote the words "Paul Lopez" on the top line of a cheque. Thecosmopolitan's eyes flashed for a moment.
"Well, I am going to tell you the truth," Frobisher went on. "Such acourse under the circumstances will save me a lot of trouble. Mind you,I am going to tell the absolute truth. You know all about the Shan ofKoordstan, of course. He promised me certain things, and now he istrying to wriggle out of his bargain. At the same time, he wants tocomplete it. There is some obstacle in the way because I am prepared topay him more money than any one else, and he wants all the cash he canget. Now, if it were worth my while, I could get to the bottom of thisbusiness very soon, but you don't want sprats on the hook that you havebaited for a whale. You must find this out for me."
"And if I promise to find this out for you, what then?"
Frobisher wrote the words "five hundred pounds" under the name of PaulLopez on the cheque and appended his queer, cramped signature. As he layback with a smile, Lopez coolly reached over, tore the cheque from thecounterfoil and placed it in his pocket.
"Good," he said. "The money is already mine. I've had a few of yourcheques in my time, and I have earned every one of them. I have earnedthis already."
Frobisher displayed no surprise or emotion of any kind. Lopez was worthhis money, and he never boasted. The information needed would be cheapat the price. He waited for Lopez to speak.
"The Shan of Koordstan is generally hard up," the latter said. "He is aprecious rascal, too. I have already dogged and watched him because hemight be a profitable investment some day."
"Precisely," Frobisher chuckled, "precisely as you have studied me.Well, you are quite welcome to all the milk you can extract from thiscocoanut. You are interesting me, beloved spy."
"Koordstan has been unlucky lately in his many dealings. The tribes arefighting shy of him. And in the depths of his despair he found a friendand philanthropist in Aaron Benstein. In other words, he must havegiven Benstein really good security for his money. Mind, I am speakingfrom personal knowledge."
"You are earning your money," Frobisher croaked. "Do you know what thesecurity is?"
"I know that it isn't the concession you are after, because there isanother game on over that. And Benstein is not likely to say anything,nor is the Shan, for that matter. But one thing is wrapped up inanother, and there you are. Shall I show you how I have earned all thatcheque?"
"Rascal, you are puzzling me. If Benstein had any kind of weakness----"
"He has. He is the hardest man in London, the most clever and greedyfinancier I know, and yet he has his weak point. He is old and his mindis not what it was. And he has a young wife, a kind of beautiful slavethat he has purchased of recent years. The fellow is infatuated withher to the verge of insanity. She has no heart and no brains, butcunning and infinite beauty, to say nothing of an audacity that isthoroughly Cockney in its way. I dare say you have seen her?"
Frobisher nodded thoughtfully. Benstein's wife was one of the stars ofLondon. She kept a _queue_ of young men in her box, but no faint breathof scandal touched her fair fame. Benstein was too old to run riskslike that.
"We don't seem to be getting any further," Frobisher suggested.
"Indeed! The subtle play of your mind is not in evidence to-day, andperhaps the morning-coat has unsettled you. My friend, men tell theirwives everything--everything."
"Not every man," Frobisher said, with one of his wicked grins. "Idon't, for instance."
"If you did your wife wouldn't stay here for a day," Lopez said coolly."Pshaw, I don't mean things of that kind; I mean business things,successful deals, how you have got the best of somebody else; in fact,the swaggering boasting that man indulges in before the woman of hischoice. Not a single secret of that kind does Benstein keep from hiswife--he couldn't if he wanted to."
"In other words, Mrs. Benstein has the secret that I would give a smallfortune to possess?"
"Precisely. The game is in your own hands, _mon ami_. That woman istrying to get into society. And, with her natural audacity and themoney she has behind her, she will succeed. In a year or so she will beturning her back upon women who won't look at her now. Only up to nowshe had got hold of the wrong leaders. But she is going to yourDuchess's to-day. The Duke is in Benstein's hands."
"That's a good tip," Frobisher chuckled. "I'll get an introduction toher."
Lopez bent across the table and lowered his voice confidentially.
"Get Lady Frobisher to take her up," he said. "Quite as great ladieswill be doing it before long. Mark my words, but Mrs. Benstein will bethe fashion some day. Nothing will keep her out. If your wife holds outa helping hand--why, it seems to me that I shall have more than earnedmy money."
Frobisher lay back in his chair, and laughed silently. He was quitesatisfied that he had found a most profitable investment for his fivehundred pounds. In great good-humour he pressed cigarettes upon Lopez.
"We are a fine couple," he said gaily. "With my brain to plot and yoursto weave, we might possess the universe. Again, it shall be done; LadyFrobisher shall take up Mrs. Benstein. Lord, what a pleasant time Ishall have at luncheon!"
He lay back in his chair chuckling and croaking long after Lopez haddeparted. The second luncheon gong sounded before he rose and made hisway to the dining-room. Lady Frobisher, tall and slim and exquisitelypatrician, had already taken her place at the table. Angela came in amoment later with a murmured apology for keeping the others waiting.
"You have bot
h been out?" Frobisher asked in his politest manner."Riding, eh? Is there anything new?"
Lady Frobisher was languidly of opinion that there was nothing fresh.Most people were looking fagged and worn out owing to the heat of theseason; she was feeling it herself.
"It's a treat to see some suggestion of the open country," she said inher languid way. "For instance, we met Harold Denvers. He was like awhiff of the sea to us."
Frobisher shot a lightning glance at Angela. Try as she would, she couldnot keep the colour from her face. And in that instant Frobisher knewthe meaning of Angela's secret visit downstairs a night or two before.Angela also knew that he guessed; the flame on her cheek grew almostpainful.
"So he's back," Frobisher said, with a suppressed chuckle in his voice."Don't you ask him here."
"As if he would come," Angela exclaimed indignantly. "I am sure LadyFrobisher would not do anything of the kind. She would as soon ask thatimpossible Benstein woman!"
A queer light flamed into Frobisher's eyes. Luck had given him anopening sooner than he had expected. He was prepared to lead up to hispoint by tortuous means.
"Is there anything impossible in society nowadays?" he asked. "Mrs.Benstein is beautiful and audacious, and her husband is fabulously rich.What more could you have?"
"She was actually wearing diamonds this morning," Angela murmured.
"Well, what of that? Next year, next week, it may be the thing to weardiamonds in the morning. After all, fashion is dictated by thetradesman you buy your stockings from, men with Board School educationfor the most part. Ain't you photographed in evening dress andpicture-hats? After that atrocity any thing is possible. Mrs. Bensteinwill be at the Duchess's party to-day."
"Really, my dear Clement, I can't see how that can possibly interestme."
Frobisher laughed again, and the quick grin bared his white teeth. Heliked his wife in these moods, he liked to bring her down from her highpedestal at times.
"It means a good deal to you," he said gaily. "_Ma cherie_, I have amood to take Mrs. Benstein up. The woman fascinates me, and I wouldfain study her like one of my valued orchids. Of course, I don't make apoint of it, but I shall be glad if you will get an introduction to Mrs.Benstein, and ask her to your fancy dance next week."
"Clement, you must be mad to insult me by such a suggestion!"
"Not in the least, my dear. The Duchess is complacent, and why not you?It is my whim; I have said it. Or perhaps you would prefer me to bringthe lady to you this afternoon."
"If that woman ever sets foot in this house," Lady Frobisher gasped."If she ever comes here----"
"You will be polite and amiable to her, I am sure," Frobisher said in apurring voice, though his eyes flashed like little pin-points of flame."Or perhaps I had better ask the Bensteins to dinner. Sit down."
Lady Frobisher had risen, and Sir Clement did the same thing. Angelasat there breathlessly. With a slow, gliding movement Frobisher creptround the table to his wife's side. He took her two hands in his andgazed steadily into her face. Her eyes were dilated, her lips wereparted, but she said nothing. Just for an instant she had one glanceinto the flame of passion and evil that Frobisher would have called hissoul.
"You are not going to make a scene," he said, in the same caressing,silken voice that made Angela long to rise and lay a whip about hisshoulders. "After all, Mrs. Benstein has a great pull over many womenthat you nod and smile to and shake hands with across afternoontea-tables--she is quite respectable. Besides, this is part of myscheme, and I expect to be--well, we won't say obeyed. As a personalfavour, I ask you to meet me in this matter."
Lady Frobisher dropped into a chair and her lips moved. Her voice cameweak and from a long way off.
"I'll do as you wish," she said. "Of course, it would be far better ifsomebody else----"
Frobisher skipped from the room whistling an air as he went. The suddengrin flashed all his teeth gleamingly.
"She is going to cry," he muttered, "and I cannot stand a woman's tears.If there is one thing that cuts me to my shrinking soul, it is the sightof a lovely woman's tears."