Read The Cardinal Moth Page 13


  *CHAPTER XIII.*

  *THE QUEEN OF THE RUBIES.*

  The faint sobbing of violins sounded from somewhere, giving the artisticsuggestion of being far off, the dominant note of the leader hung highon the air. Now and then a door opened somewhere, letting in thesplitting crack of Piccadilly, the raucous voices of news-boys more orless mendaciously. Sir Clement Frobisher stood before the glass in hissmoking-room setting his white tie. Over his shoulder he could see thedark, smileless face of Lopez looking in.

  "What do you want here to-night?" he asked. "What are you thinking aboutme?"

  "I'd give a good round sum--if I had it--to know what you are thinkingabout," Lopez retorted.

  "Money isn't worth it. I was wondering if I really looked like awaiter, after all."

  "Well, you don't. There is something too infernally sardonic anddevilish about your head for that. May I take a cigarette? I dare sayyou wonder how I got here to-night? I--well, I just walked in. Thatkind of audacity always pays. Also you wonder why I came."

  "Indeed I don't. You want me to lend you one hundred pounds. What doyou do with your money, friend Lopez? Not that it is any business ofmine."

  "That being so, you have answered your own question," Lopez said dryly."Every man has his weakness, even the strongest chain has itsbreaking-point. Let me have one hundred pounds. And pay yourself tentimes over, as you always do for your accommodation. Did I earn my lastfive hundred pounds?"

  "Indeed you did," Frobisher said frankly. "A wonderful woman, Mrs.Benstein."

  "About the most wonderful I ever met. None of your dark schemers abouther, none of your flashing eyes and figures drawn up to their fullheight. But there is the rare mind in its beautiful setting. You aregoing to make use of that woman? We shall see."

  Both men smiled meaningly. The plaintive wail of the violins rose andfell, from the great hall beyond came the murmur of voices. LadyFrobisher's great function had commenced. Frobisher glancedsignificantly at the clock. He was in no fancy-dress himself,presumedly he was disguised as an honest man, as Lopez suggested. Helaughed heartily at the gibe, and pushed Lopez outside the door with acheque in his pocket.

  Quite a crowd of cloaked and dominoed women had gathered there. LadyFrobisher had reverted to the old idea of a masked ball and theuncovering after the last dance before supper. The masks appeared to bewalking about as they generally did, for Shepherd strolled up to Chloeand Adonis to Aphrodite in a manner that might have suggested collusionto the sophisticated mind. One tall woman, closely draped, touchedFrobisher on the arm as he threaded between the silken mysteries.

  "I have no flowers," she said. "My man stupidly dropped mine andsomebody trod on them. Take me to your conservatory, Sir Clement, andgive me my choice."

  Frobisher offered his arm; he did not need to ask who the speaker was.Those low, thrilling tones, with the touch of power in them, could onlyhave belonged to Isa Benstein. There was nobody in the conservatorywhich was devoted to orchids, and nobody was likely to be, for that partof the house was forbidden ground. Mrs. Benstein looked out from underher cloud--only her eyes and nose could be seen.

  "May I not be privileged to see your dress?" Frobisher pleaded.

  "Certainly not," Isa Benstein laughed. "Why should you be speciallyfavoured? Get me two long sprays of orchid. I shall be content withnothing less than the Cardinal Moth."

  It was something in the nature of extracting a tooth, but Frobishermounted the steps and tore down the two sprays asked for. Isa Bensteinwhipped them under the folds of her cloak. There was a subtle fragranceabout her that a younger man than Frobisher would have found heady.

  "I must fly to the dressing-room," she said. "And then to pay myrespects to my hostess. Do you think that she is likely to recogniseme?"

  Frobisher thought not. He lingered over his cigarette, making not theslightest attempt to play the host, though the dance was in full swingnow, and the house echoed to the thud of feet in motion. At the sametime, Frobisher was looking forward to plenty of amusement presently,before supper, when everybody unmasked. He grew a little tired of hisown company presently and strolled into the ballroom. There theelectrics were festooned and garlanded with ropes of roses, theplaintive band could not be seen behind a jungle of feathery ferns, abewildering kaleidoscope of colour looped and twisted and threaded in aperfect harmony.

  A few of the younger and consequently more _blase_ men lined the walls.A cavalier of sorts with a long, thin scar on the side of his lean headwas watching the proceedings. Frobisher touched him on the arm.

  "Not dancing, Lefroy?" he said. "Are you past all those fleeting joys?"

  "It's an old wound in my thigh," Lefroy explained. He was just a littlechagrined to discover that his host had so easily detected him.Frobisher's superior cleverness always angered him. "It is my amusementto spot the various women, and I have located most of them. But thereis one! Ciel!"

  "One that even meets with your critical approval! Good. She must be apearl among women. Point her out to me and let us see if our tastesagree."

  Lefroy's eyes glittered behind their mask as they swept over the reelingcrowd. A moment or two later and he just touched Frobisher on the arm.

  "Here she comes," he whispered. "On the arm of General Marriott. Nomistaking his limp, and his white hair like a file of soldiers onparade. What a costume and what a cost! That scarlet band across herbrow over the mask is wonderfully effective. That woman is an artist,Frobisher. And she has the most perfect figure in Europe. Who is she?"

  Frobisher made no reply; he was studying Isa Benstein'scostume--lustrous black from head to foot, with white seams fairlycovered with rubies. There were rubies all over her corsage, bands ofthem up her arm, a serpent necklace round the milky way of her throat.The whole thing was daring, bizarre, and yet artistic to a point. Thescarlet band across the brows struck a strong and vivid note. Therubies were not so bright as the woman's eyes. As she came nearer thetangle of blossom across her bosom showed up clearly. Lefroy gasped.

  "A mystery in a mystery," he said. "She is wearing the Cardinal Moth.Who is she?"

  Frobisher laughed, and protested that each must solve the problem forhimself. He liked to puzzle and bewilder Lefroy, and he was doing botheffectively at the present moment. The Count would have liked to takethe little man by the shoulders and shake him heartily.

  "I believe you know who she is," he growled. "Come, Frobisher, gratifymy curiosity."

  "I will refresh it if you like," Frobisher said with one of his suddengrins. "I am not positively sure, but I fancy I can give a prettyshrewd guess as to the identity of Madame Incognita. But would it befair to give her secret away before supper-time? Patience, myfire-eater."

  The lady of the rubies passed along leaning on the arm of her companion.She gave one glance in Frobisher's direction, and Lefroy looked eagerlyfor some sign of recognition. But the dark eyes were absolutely blankso far as the master of the house was concerned.

  Lefroy turned and followed the couple in front. As Frobisher loungedback to the smoking-room for another cigarette, he almost ran into hiswife.

  As hostess she was wearing no mask. Her beautiful face was just alittle set and tired.

  "Seems to be all right," Frobisher croaked. "They appear to be enjoyingthemselves. And yet half of them would like better to come to myfuneral. Some pretty dresses here, but one head and shoulders over theothers.

  "You mean the ruby guise," Lady Frobisher exclaimed, with someanimation. "Is it not superb! So daring, and yet in the best of taste.Everybody is asking who she is and nobody seems to know. I declare Ifeel quite proud of my mystery."

  "An angel unawares," Frobisher laughed silently. "You never can tell.And you mean to say that you can't guess who it is that is exciting allthis attention?"

  Lady Frobisher looked swiftly down into the face of her husband. Thecorrugated grin, the impish mischief told her a story. It s
eemed veryhard that the woman she most desired to keep in the background wasactually creating the sensation of the evening.

  "Mrs. Benstein," she whispered. "Clement, do you really think so?"

  "My dear, I am absolutely certain of it. And why not? Isn't Mrs.Benstein as well-bred as a score of American women here to-night?Doesn't she carry a long pedigree in that lovely face of hers? Somefolks here to-night suffer from a pedigree so old that even theirgrandfathers are lost in the mists of antiquity. What short-sightedcreatures you women are! Can't you see that a creature so rich anddaring and clever as Mrs. Benstein will be riding on the crest of thewave within a year? And you will gain kudos from the mere fact thatyour house saw her debut into 'society'--Heaven save the mark!"

  Lady Frobisher had no more to say. There was a great deal of cynicaltruth in Frobisher's words. Mrs. Benstein was going to be a brilliantsuccess as far as the men were concerned, therefore her presence at theassemblies of the smart set would become almost necessary. Lefroy cameback at the same time, having learnt little or nothing in therefreshment room. Lady Frobisher might have gratified his curiosity ifhe had asked her, only she gave him no opportunity. She detested theman thoroughly; with her fine instinct she had detected the tiger underhis handsome, swaggering exterior.

  "No luck?" Frobisher laughed. "Well, it is nearly twelve o'clock, andthen you will know. Come with me and smoke a cigarette till the clockstrikes. It will soothe your nerves. A small soda and a drop of 1820brandy, eh? Don't give my general run of guests that liqueur."

  Lefroy nodded carelessly. He would have it appear that he had dismissedthe matter from his mind. But he had finished his cigarette and brandyas the clock chimed the midnight hour, and then, with a fine assumptionof indifference, he returned to the ballroom. The band was playingsomething weird from Greig, the guests stopped just where they stood,and each cast their masks upon the floor.

  The swashbuckler was in luck, so it seemed to him, for the lady of therubies stood smiling by the side of her military escort just opposite.The scarlet band had gone with the mask, revealing a fillet of rubiesround the smooth white brow, a fillet with one huge ruby in the middle,so large and blazing that Lefroy stood aghast. He staggered back, andsomething like a stammering oath escaped him. The vulgarism was lostfor the moment, and people congregated round the stranger. That manypeople there did not know who Mrs. Benstein was only gave piquancy tothe situation.

  "My God!" Lefroy muttered, "who is she? Where did she get it from? It'sthe real thing. I would swear to it amongst a million imitations. And Idare swear that, despite his air of mystery, Frobisher---- But he mustnot see it, I must prevent that, anyway."

  Lefroy hastened back to the smoking-room. His limbs were trembling underhim now, a little moisture broke out on his forehead and trickled downhis face. He had made a discovery that wrenched even his iron nerves.And at any cost Frobisher must not know.

  He was smoking and sipping brandy as Lefroy entered. If he saw anythingstrange or strained about the face of Count Lefroy, he did not betraythe fact. He looked up gaily.

  "Come to fetch me?" he asked. "Want me to see the lady of the rubies?Well, was the face worthy of the setting? Did you recognise her?"

  "Never saw her in my life before," Lefroy said hoarsely. He stammeredon, saying anything to gain time, anything to keep Frobisher where hewas. "I've lost interest in the whole thing. Let's stay here and smoke,and talk about old times. What do you say?"

  Frobisher said nothing. He studied Lefroy's white face intently.Outside was a babel of laughter and chatter and the swish of drapery. Aclear, calm voice announced a late visitor.

  "His Highness the Shan of Koordstan," the footman said.

  Frobisher glanced at Lefroy's face. In itself it was a tragedy.