XI
THE MYSTERY TAKES HUMAN FORM
He turned from the window where he had presented a long, drooping,patient back, and his warm, ironic mirth--the same that had played withher the first night--flashed out at sight of her. But after a momentanother expression mixed with it, sharpened it, and fastened upon herwith an incredulous intentness.
She stood on the threshold, pale, and brilliant still in her blaze ofanger, equal, at last, to anything. Kerr, as he signaled to her withevery lineament of his enlivened face, his interest, his defiance, hisuncontrollability, was not the man of her imaginary conversations. Hewas not here to be used and disposed of; but, as he came toward her,the new admiration in his face was bringing her reassurance that neitherwas she. The thought that her moment of bitter incredulity had made herformidable gave her courage to fight even him, of whom she was so muchin awe; gave her courage even to smile, though she grew hot at the firstwords he spoke.
"You should not be brave and then run away, you know."
She thought of her rush up the stairs again. "I had to go back to seeMrs. Britton." (Oh, how she had seen her!)
It seemed to Flora that everything she had been through in the last fewmoments was blazoned on her face. But he only looked a little moregravely at her, though his sardonic eye-brow twitched.
"Ah, I thought you only ran back to hide in your doll's house."
She laughed. Such a picture of her!
"Well, at any rate, now I've come out, what have you to say to me?"
"Now you've come out," he repeated, and looked at her this time withfull gravity, as if he realized finally how far she'd come.
She had taken the chair in the light of the eastern windows. She layback in the cushions, her head a little bent, her hands interlaced witha perfect imitation of quietude. The dull satin of her slender foot wasthe only motion about her, but the long, slow rise and fall of herbreath was just too deep-drawn for repose.
He looked down upon her from his height.
"I'm sorry I frightened you last night," he said, "but I'm not sorry Icame, since you've seen me. You needn't have, you know, if you didn'twant to. You could have stayed in the doll's house; and there, Isuppose, you think I should never have found you--or _it_ again?"
He was silent a moment, leaning on the chair opposite, watching her withknitted forehead, while her apprehension fluttered for what he should donext. He had done away with all the amenities of meeting and attackedhis point with a directness that took her breath.
"You know what I've come for," he said, "but now I'm here, now that Isee you, I wonder if there's something I haven't reckoned on." He lookedat her earnestly. "If you think I've taken advantage of you--if you sayso--I'll go away, and give you a chance to think it over."
It would have been so easy to have nodded him out, but instead she halfput out her hand toward him. "No; stay."
He gave her a quick look--surprise and approbation at her courage. Hedropped into a chair. "Then tell me about it."
Flora's heart went quick and little. She held herself very still, afraidin her intense consciousness lest her slightest movement might betrayher. She only moved her eyes to look up at him questioningly, suspendingacknowledgment of what he meant until he should further commit himself.
"I mean the sapphire," he said. He waited.
"Yes," she answered coolly. "I saw that it interested you last night,but I couldn't think especially why. It's a beautiful stone."
He laughed without a sound--shook noiselessly for a minute. "Meaningthat a gentleman shouldn't pounce upon any beautiful stone he may happento see?" He got up and moved about restlessly in the little spacebetween their two chairs. "Quite so; lay it to my being more than agentleman; lay it to my being a crack-brained enthusiast, a confoundedbeauty worshiper, a vicious curio dealer, an ill-mannered ass! But"--andhe flashed around at her with a snap of his nervous fingers--"where didyou get it?"
For the life of her she couldn't help her wave of color, but through itall she clung to her festal smile. Sheer nervousness made it easy.
"Well, suppose it was begged, borrowed, or--given to me? Suppose it camefrom here or far away yonder? What's that to do with its beauty?" Shegave him question for question. "Did you ever see it before?"
He never left off looking at her, looking at her with a hard inquiry, asif she were some simple puzzle that he unaccountably failed to solve.
"That's rather neat, the way you dodge me," he said, dodging in histurn. "But I don't see it _now_. You're not wearing it?"
She played indifference with what a beating heart! "Oh, I only wear itoff and on."
"Off and on!" His voice suddenly rang at her. "Off and on! Why, my goodwoman, it's just two days you could have worn it at all!"
She stood up--stood facing him. For a moment she knew nothing exceptthat her horrible idea was a fact. She had the eye of the Crew Idol, andthis man knew it! Yet the fact declared gave her courage. She could facehis accusal if only he could give the reason for it. But after a moment,while they looked silently at each other, she saw he was not accusingher. He was threatening her and beseeching her indulgence in the samelook. He opened his lips, hesitated, turned sharp about and walked awayfrom her.
She watched him with increasing doubt. After saying so much, was hegoing to say nothing more? She had a feeling that she had not heard theworst yet, and when he turned back to her from the other end of the roomthere was something so haggard, so harassed, so fairly guilty about himthat if she had ever thought of telling him the truth of how she came bythe ring she put it away from her now.
But beneath his distress she recognized a desperate earnestness. Therewas something he wanted at any cost, but he was going to be gentle withher. She had felt before the potentiality of his gentleness, and shedoubted her power to resist it. She fanned up all the flame of angerthat had swept her into the room. She reminded herself that the greatestgentleness might only be a blind; that there was nothing stronger thanwanting something very much, and that the protection of the jewel wasvery thin. But when he stood beside her she realized he held a strongerweapon against her than his gentleness, something apart from hisintention. She felt that in whatever circumstance, at whatever time sheshould meet him he would make her feel thus--hot and cold, and happy forthe mere presence of his body beside her. In a confusion she heard whathe was saying.
He was speaking, almost coaxingly, as if to a child. "I understand," hewas saying. "I know all about it. It's a mistake. But surely you don'texpect to keep it now. It will only be an annoyance to you."
She turned on him. "What could it be to you?"
Kerr, planted before her, with his head dropped, looked, looked, looked,as if he gave silence leave to answer for him what it would. It answeredwith a hundred echoes ringing up to her from long corridors ofconjecture, half-articulated words breathing of how extraordinary theanswer must be that he did not dare to make. He looked her up and downcarefully, impersonally, with that air he had of regarding a rarespecimen, thoughtfully; as if he weighed such ephemeral substance aschance.
"What will you take for it?" he said at last.
She was silent. With a sick distrust it came to her that it was thevery worst thing he could have said after that speaking silence.
She stepped away from him. "This thing is not for sale."
He stared at her with amazement; then threw back his head and laughed asif something had amused him above all tragedy.
"You are an extraordinary creature," he said, "but really I must haveit. I can't explain the why of it; only give the sapphire to me, andyou'll never be sorry for having done that for me. Whatever happens, youmay be sure I won't talk. Even if the thing comes out, you shan't bemixed up in it." He had come near her again, and the point of his longforefinger rested on her arm. She was motionless, overwhelmed with pureterror, with despair. He was smiling, but there was a desperatesomething about him, stronger than the common desire of possession,terrifying in its intensity. She looked behind her. The thick glass of
the window was there, a glimpse of the empty street and the figure of awoman in a blowing green veil turning the corner.
"Why not give it to me now," he urged, "since, of course, you can't keepit? I could have it now in spite of you."
Everything in her sprang up in antagonism to meet him. "I know what youare," she cried, "but you shan't have it. You have no more right to itthan I. You can't get it away from me, and I shan't give it to you."
He had grown suddenly paler; his eyes were dancing, fastened upon herbreast. His long hands closed and opened. She looked down, arrested atthe sight of her hand clenched just where her breath was shortest, overthe sapphire's hiding-place.
He smiled. How easily she had betrayed herself! But she abated not a jotof her defiance, challenging him, now he knew its hiding-place, to takethe sapphire if he could. But he did not move. And it came to her thenthat she had been ridiculous to think for an instant that this man wouldtake anything from her by force. What she had to fear was his will atwork upon hers, his persuasion, his ingenuity. She thought of the purpleirises, and how he had drawn them toward him in the crook of hiscane--and her dread was lest he meant to overcome her with some subtletyshe could not combat. For that he was secret, that he was daring, thathe was fearless beyond belief, he showed her all too plainly, since herehe stood, condemned by his own evidence, alone, in the midst of herhousehold, within call of her servants, and had the sublime effronteryto look at her with admiration, and, it occurred to her, even with alittle pity.
The click of a moving latch brought his eyes from hers to the door.
"Some one is coming in," he said in a guarded voice. It warned her thather face showed too much, but she could not hope to recover hercomposure. She hardly wanted to. She was in a state to fancy that asecret could be kept by main force; and she turned without abatement ofher reckless mood and took her hand from where she had held it clenchedupon her breast and stretched it out to Mrs. Herrick.
The lady had stood in the doorway a moment--a long-featured, whitish,modeled face, draped in a dull green veil, a tall figure whose flowingskirts of black melted away into the background of the hall--before shecame forward and met her hostess' hand with a clasp firm and ready.
"I'm so glad to find you here," she said. She looked directly intoFlora's eyes, into the very center of her agitation. She held hertremulous hand as if neither of these manifestations surprised her; asif a young woman and a young man in colloquy might often be found insuch a state of mind.
Flora's first emotion was a guilty relief that, after all, her face hadnot betrayed Kerr. But she had no sooner murmured his name to Mrs.Herrick, no sooner had that lady's gray eyes lighted upon him, than theyaltered their clear confidence. The situation as reflected in Floralooked naive enough, but there was nothing naive about Kerr. The veryperfection of his coolness, there in the face of her burning agitation,was appalling. Oh, why couldn't he see, Flora thought wildly, how it wasdamning him--how it was showing him so practised, so marvelously equalto any emergency, that his presence here among fleeces could be nothingless than wolfish?
Mrs. Herrick's face was taking on an expression no less than wary. Whathe was, Mrs. Herrick could not dream. She could not even suspect whatFlora believed. But in the light of her terrible discovery Flora darednot have him suspected at all. The chasms of distrust and suspicion thathad been opening between them she forgot. In a flash she was ready tothrow herself in front of this man, to cover him from suspicion, eventhough by so doing she took it upon herself.
Now, if she had ever in her life, she talked over the top of herfeelings; and though at first to her ears her voice rang out horriblyalone, presently Mrs. Herrick was helping her, adding words to words.It was the house they spoke of, the San Mateo house, the subject aboutwhich Flora knew Mrs. Herrick had come to talk; but to Flora it was nolonger a subject. It was a barrier, a shield. In this emergency it wasthe only subject large enough to fill the gap, and much as Flora hadliked the idea of it, she had never built the house so large, so vivid,so wonderfully towering to please her fancy as she was doing now tocover Kerr. With questions she led Mrs. Herrick on to spin out thesubject, to play it over with lights and shades, to beat all around it.And all the while she knew that Kerr was watching her; watching her onceagain in dubious admiration. It was a look that made Mrs. Herrick seemready at a movement of his to lay her hand on Flora in protection.
The lady's clear gray eyes traveled between Flora's face and his. Undertheir steady light there was a strange alertness, as if she sat thereready enough to avert whatever threatened, but anxious to draw herskirts aside from it, distrusting the quality, hating to have come inupon anything so dubious. When the hall door opened and closed shelistened as if for a deliverer; and when Clara appeared between theportieres she turned to her and met her with a flash of relief, as ifhere at last was a safe quantity. Clara was still wearing her hat, withthe veil pushed up in a little mist above her eyes, and still had herwhite gloves on. The sight of Mrs. Herrick's hand soliciting the claspof those gave Flora a curious sensation.
She looked from one face to another, and last at Kerr's. She shut hereyes an instant. Here was a thief. He was standing in her drawing-roomnow. She had been talking with him. She opened her eyes. The factacknowledged had not altered the color of daylight. It was strange thatthings--furniture and walls and landscape--should remain so stolidly thesame when such a thing had happened to her! For she had not only spokenwith a thief, but she had shielded him. It struck her grotesquely thatperhaps Mrs. Herrick's instinct was right, after all. Wasn't Clara thesafest of the lot? Clara at least kept her gloves on, while she herselfwas shamelessly arrayed on the side of disorder. She was clinging to apiece of property that wasn't hers, and whatever way she dressed hermotives they looked too much of a piece with the operations of theoriginal miscreant.
Flora saw the evil spirit of tragic-comedy. He fairly grinned at her.