CHAPTER XII
'Stemp,' said Mr. Van Torp, 'we must have something to eat on thatyacht.'
'Yes, sir. Quite so, sir.'
Stemp, who could do anything, was clipping the millionaire's thatch ofsandy hair, on the morning after the transaction last described. Mr.Van Torp abhorred barbers and shaved himself, and in his less'prominent' days he had been in the habit of cutting his own hair byusing two looking-glasses. The result had rarely been artistic, andeven Stemp was not what is described on some American signs as atonsorial artist, but he managed to clip his master's rough mane withneatness and precision, if not in the 'Bond Street style.'
'I mean,' said Mr. Van Torp, explaining himself, 'we must havesomething good to eat.'
'Oh, I see, sir,' answered Stemp, as if this were quite a new idea.
'Well, now, do you suppose you can get anything to eat in Italy?'
'Salmon-trout is very good there, sir, and quails are in season at theend of August. They are just going back to Egypt at this time of theyear, sir, and are very fat. There's Gorgonzola cheese, too, and figsand muscatel grapes are coming on. I think that's all, sir.'
'It's not bad. How about chickens?'
'Well, sir, the poultry in those parts is not much to boast of. AnItalian fowl is mostly either a hawk or a butterfly. That's myexperience, sir, when I travelled there with the late Duke ofBarchester, a few years ago. His Grace was most particular, sir,having a poor stomach, and nothing to occupy his mind after theDuchess died in a fit of rage, having thrown her wig at him, sir, theydo say, and then fallen down in a fit which was quite awful to see,and ended as we all know.'
'As far as I can see, you'd better go on to Venice, Stemp,' said Mr.Van Torp, not interested in his man's reminiscences. 'You'd better gooff to-night and tell Captain Brown to hurry up and get ready, becauseI'm bringing a party of friends down the day after to-morrow. And thenyou just scratch round and find something to eat.'
'Yes, sir. I'll telegraph to the caterers, and I think you'll besatisfied, sir.'
'There's an American lady coming, who knows what's good to eat, andlikes it, and wants it, and means to get it, and you've got to find itfor her somehow. I can live on hog and hominy myself. And I shan'twant you in the least. You'd better take most of my baggage with youanyway. Just leave my Tuxedo and a couple of suits, and some newflannel pants and a shirt-case, and take the rest. But don't wastetime over that either if you've got to catch the train, for the mainthing's to get there right away. You can go first-class, Stemp--youwon't be so done up.'
'Thank you, sir.'
A silence followed, during which the valet's scissors made asuccession of little chinking noises; from time to time he turned Mr.Van Torp's head very gingerly to a slightly different position.
'Stemp.'
'Yes, sir.'
'You take a good look around that yacht, and decide about thestate-rooms, before I come. This way. You give the best room to MissDonne, and have a large bouquet of carnations on the table. See?'
'Beg pardon, sir, but carnations are out of season.'
'You get them just the same.'
'Yes, sir.'
'And give the second-best room to her ladyship, Stemp, if there arenot two alike, but be extra careful to see that everything'scomfortable. Lady Maud likes wood violets, Stemp. You get a handsomebouquet of them, and don't tell me they're out of season too, becauseyou've got to get them, anyway, so it's no use to talk.'
'Yes, sir. I see, sir.'
'And then you get the third-best room ready for Mrs. Rushmore, and youget some flowers for her too, out of your own head. Maybe she likesthose roses with stems three feet long. Use your own judgment,anyway.'
'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.'
Another silence followed, and the hair-cutting was finished. Mr. VanTorp glanced at himself in the glass and then turned to his valet.
'Say, Stemp, I was thinking. Maybe that third bedroom's not quite sogood as the others, and the lady might feel herself sort ofoverlooked.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, I was thinking. If that's the case, and it looks sort ofsecond-class, you go out and get a man and have him gild it all aroundnicely so as to brighten it up. I guess she'll think it's all right ifit's gilt and the others aren't. Some people are like that.'
'I see, sir. Yes, sir. I'll attend to it, sir. Will there be any moreladies and gentlemen, sir?'
'There's that Russian gentleman, Count Kralinsky. Put him at the otherend of the ship, somewhere out of the way of the ladies. I supposehe'll bring his valet, and there'll be two or three maids. That's all.Now don't mind me any more, but just fly around, and don't forgetanything. Understand? We aren't going to be in England or the States,where you can sit still and telephone for anything you've forgotten,from peanuts to a funeral. You'll have to go full speed ahead in alldirections if you're going to wake things up.'
Thereupon Mr. Van Torp sat down by the window to read the paper.
His attention was arrested by a sensational 'scare-head' about a thiefand a ruby worth fifty thousand dollars. Some disaffected colleague inLondon had known, or cleverly guessed, where the stone was that hadbeen stolen from Mr. Pinney's, and had informed the police; thenice-looking young fellow who spoke like an English gentleman hadwalked directly into the arms of the plain-clothes man waiting forhim on the pier in New York, the stone had been found sewn up in hiswaistcoat, and his pleasant career of liberty had ended abruptly in acell.
Mr. Van Torp whistled softly as he read the account a second time.Then he neatly cut the column out of the paper, folded it with greatprecision, smoothed it with care and placed it in his pocket-book nextto a cheap little photograph of Madame da Cordova as 'Juliet,' whichhe had bought in a music-shop in New York the day after he had heardher for the first time, and had carried in his pocket ever since. Helooked up to see what Stemp was doing, and as the man was kneelingbefore a box on the floor, with his back turned, he took out therather shabby photograph and gazed at it quietly for fully thirtyseconds before he put it back again.
He took up the mutilated newspaper and looked up and down the columns,and among other information which he gathered in a few moments was thefact that Logotheti's yacht had 'passed Cape Saint Vincent, goingeast, owner and party on board.' The previous telegram had not escapedhim, and if he had entertained any doubts as to the destination of the_Erinna_, they vanished now. She was certainly bound for theMediterranean. He remembered having heard that many steam yachtscoming from England put into Gibraltar for coal and fresh provisions,coal being cheaper there than in French and Italian ports, and hethought it very probable that the _Erinna_ would do the same; he alsomade some deductions which need not be explained yet. The only oneworth mentioning here was that Logotheti would be likely to hear inGibraltar that the ruby had been found and was on its way back toEngland, and that as he would know that Margaret would be anxiousabout it, since he had already given it to her, he would hardly letthe occasion of communicating with her go by. As for writing fromGibraltar to any place whatsoever in the hope that a letter willarrive in less than a week, it is sheer folly. Mr. Van Torp had nevertried it, and supposed it possible, as it looks, but he was tolerablysure that Logotheti would telegraph first, and had perhaps done soalready, for the news of his passing Cape Saint Vincent was alreadytwenty-four hours old.
This was precisely what had happened. When Mr. Van Torp opened hisdoor, he came upon Margaret and Mrs. Rushmore on the landing, on thepoint of going out for a walk, and a servant had just brought thePrimadonna a telegram which she was reading aloud, so that theAmerican could not help hearing her.
'"Cruising till wanted,"' she read quickly. '"Ruby found. Address,yacht _Erinna_, Naples."'
She heard Van Torp close his door, though she had not heard him openit, and turning round she found herself face to face with him. Hereyes were sparkling with anger.
'Very sorry,' he said. 'I couldn't help hearing.'
'It's of no consequence, for I should have told you,' Margaretanswered brie
fly.
He argued well for himself from her tone and manner, but he chose toshow that he would not force his company upon her just then, when shewas in a visible rage, and instead of stopping to exchange more wordshe passed the two ladies hat in hand, and bowing rather low, after hismanner, he went quietly downstairs.
Margaret watched him till he disappeared.
'I like that man,' she said, as if to herself, but audibly. 'I cannothelp it.'
Mrs. Rushmore was more than delighted, but had tact enough not to makeany answer to a speech which had probably not been meant for her ears.
'Perhaps,' she said, 'you would rather not go out just yet, my dear?'
Margaret was grateful for the suggestion, and they turned back intotheir rooms.
Meanwhile Van Torp had reached the door of the hotel, and found LadyMaud standing there with her parasol up, for the sun was streaming in.
'I was waiting for you,' she said simply, as soon as he reached herside, and she stepped out into the street. 'I thought you would comedown, and I wanted to speak to you, for I did not get a chance lastnight. They were both watching me, probably because they thought I wasill, and I had to chatter like a magpie to keep up appearances.'
'You did it very well,' Van Torp said. 'If I had not seen your face atthe window when I got out of the automobile yesterday, I shouldn'thave guessed there was anything wrong.'
'But there is--something very wrong--something I can hardly bear tothink of, though I must, until I know the truth.'
They turned into the first deserted street they came to.
'I daresay I can give a guess at what it is,' Van Torp answeredgravely. 'I went to see him alone yesterday on purpose, before hestarted, and I must say, if it wasn't for the beard I'd feel prettysure.'
'He had a beard when I married him, and it was like that--just likethat!'
Lady Maud's voice shook audibly, for she felt cold, even in thesunshine.
'I didn't know,' Van Torp answered. 'That alters the case. If we'renot mistaken, what can I do to help you? Let's see. You only had thatone look at him, through the window, is that so?'
'Yes. But the window was open, and it's not high above the ground, andmy eyes are good. He took off his hat when he said good-bye to you,and I saw his face as distinctly as I see yours. When you've beenmarried to a man'--she laughed harshly--'you cannot be easily mistakenabout him, when you're as near as that! That is the man I married. I'mintimately convinced of it, but I must be quite sure. Do youunderstand?'
'Of course. If he's really Leven, he's even a better actor than I usedto think he was. If he's not, the resemblance is just about the mostextraordinary thing! It's true I only saw Leven three or four times inmy life, but I saw him to look at him then, and the last time I did,when he made the row in Hare Court, he was doing most of the talking,so I remember his voice.'
'There's only one difficulty,' Lady Maud said. 'Some one else may havebeen killed last June. It may even have been the pickpocket who hadstolen his pocket-book. Such things have happened, or do in books! Butthis is certainly the man you met in New York and who sold you thestone you gave me, is he not?'
'Oh, certainly. And that was at the end of July, and Leven was killedlate in June.'
'Yes. That only leaves a month for him to have been to Asia--that'sabsurd.'
'Utterly, totally, and entirely impossible,' asseverated Mr. Van Torp.'One of two things. Either this man is your husband, and if he is,he's not the man who found the rubies in Asia. Or else, if he is thatman, he's not Leven. I wish that heathen girl had been here yesterday!She could have told in a minute. She'd better have been here anywaythan cutting around the Mediterranean with that fellow Logotheti!'
'Yes,' Lady Maud answered gravely. 'But about myself--if Leven isalive, what is my position--I mean--I don't really quite know where Iam, do I?'
'Anybody but you would have thought of marrying again already,'observed Mr. Van Torp, looking up sideways to her eyes, for she wastaller than he. 'Then you'd really be in a bad fix, wouldn't you? TheEnoch Arden thing, I suppose it would be. But as it is, I don't seethat it makes much difference. The man's going under a false name, sohe doesn't mean to claim you as his wife, nor to try and get a divorceagain, as he did before. He's just going to be somebody else for hisown good, and he'll get married that way, maybe. That's his business,not yours. I don't suppose you're going to get up in church and forbidthe banns, are you?'
'I would, like a shot!' said Lady Maud. 'So would you, I'm sure! Thinkof the other woman!'
'That's so,' answered Van Torp without enthusiasm. 'However, we've gotto think about you and the present, and decide what we'll do. Isuppose the best thing is for me to put him off with some excuse, sothat you can come on the yacht.'
'Please do nothing of the sort!' cried Lady Maud.
'But I want you to come,' objected her friend.
'I mean to come. Do you think I am afraid to meet him?'
Van Torp looked at her in some surprise, and not without admiration.
'There isn't anybody like you, anyway,' he said quietly. 'But there'sgoing to be a circus on that ship if he's Leven,' he added. 'If hemakes a fuss, I'll read the Riot Act and lock him up.'
'Oh, no,' answered Lady Maud, who was used to Mr. Van Torp's familiarvocabulary, 'why need there be any trouble? You've not told him I amcoming, you say. Very well. If he sees me suddenly after he has beenon board a little while, he'll certainly betray himself, and then Ishall be sure. Leven is a man of the world --"was" or "is"--God knowswhich! But if it is he, and he doesn't want to be recognised, he'llbehave as if nothing had happened, after the first moment of surprise.At least I shall be certain! You may wonder--I don't know myself,Rufus--I wish you could help me!'
'I will, as far as I can.'
'No, you don't know what I mean! There's something in my life that Inever quite told you, I can't tell why not. There must be people whoknow it besides my mother--I don't think my father ever did. Margarethas an idea of it--I let fall a few words one day. In one way, you andI have been so intimate for years --and yet----'
She stopped short, and the soft colour rose in her cheeks like a dawn.Van Torp looked down at the pavement as he walked.
'See here,' he said in a low voice, 'you'd better not tell me. Maybeyou'll be sorry some day if you do.'
'It would be the first time,' she answered softly, 'and I've oftenwished you knew everything. I mean to tell you now--just wait amoment.'
They walked on; they were already in the outskirts of the dull littletown. Van Torp did not again raise his eyes to her face, for he knewshe would speak when she was ready. When she did, her voice was alittle muffled, and she looked straight before her as he was doing.They were quite alone in the road now.
'When I was very young--nearly eleven years ago, in my first season--Imet a man I liked very much, and he liked me. We grew very, very fondof each other. He was not much older than I, and had just joined thearmy. We couldn't marry, because we had no money--my father had notcome into the title then, you know--but we promised each other that wewould wait. We waited, and no one knew, except, perhaps, my mother,and she kept us from seeing each other as much as she could. Then camethe Boer war, and he was killed--killed in a wretched skirmish--noteven in a battle--buried somewhere on the Veldt--if I only knew where!I read it in a despatch--just "killed"--nothing more. One doesn't dieof things, I suppose, and years passed, and I went out just the same,and they wanted me to marry. You know how it is with a girl! I marriedto get rid of myself--I married Leven because he was good-looking andhad money, and--I don't quite know why, but it seemed easier to marrya foreigner than an Englishman. I suppose you cannot understand that!It made all comparison impossible--perhaps that was it. When mine wasdead, I could never have taken another who could possibly have knownhim, or who could be in the remotest degree like him.'
'I understand that quite well,' said Van Torp, as she paused.
'I'm glad, then, for it makes it easier to explain the rest. I don'tthink I always did my
best to be nice to Leven. You see, he soon grewtired of me, and went astray after strange goddesses. Still, I mighthave tried harder to keep him if I had cared what he did, but I wasfaithful to him, in my own way, and it was much harder than you canguess, or any one. Oh, it was not any living man that made ithard--not that! It was the other. He came back--dead men dosometimes--and he told me I was his, and not Leven's wife; and Ifought against that, just as if a man had made love to me in society.It didn't seem honest and true to my real husband, in my thoughts, youknow, and in some things thoughts are everything. I fought with all mymight against that one, that dear one. I think that was the beginningof my work--being sorry for other women who perhaps had tried to fighttoo, and wondering whether I should do much better if my dead man cameback alive. Do you see? I'm telling you things I've hardly ever toldmyself, let alone any one else.'
'Yes, I see. I didn't know any one could be as good as that.'
'You can guess the rest,' Lady Maud went on, not heeding what he said.'When I believed that Leven was dead the fight was over, and I took mydead man back, because I was really free. But now, if Leven is aliveafter all, it must begin again. I ought to be brave and fight againstit; I must--but I can't, I can't! It's too hard, now! These two monthshave been the happiest in my life since the day he was killed! How canI go back again! And yet, if I cannot be an honest woman in mythoughts I'm not an honest woman at all--I'm no better than if Ideserved to be divorced. I never believed in technical virtue.'
Van Torp had seen many sides of human nature, good and bad, but he hadnever dreamed of anything like this, even in the clear depths of thisgood woman's heart, and what he heard moved him. Men born with greatnatures often have a tender side which the world does not dream of;call it nervousness, call it degeneracy, call it hysterical who will;it is there. While Lady Maud was finishing her poor little story inbroken phrases, with her heart quivering in her voice, Mr. Rufus VanTorp's eyes became suddenly so very moist that he had to pass his handover them hastily lest a drop or two should run down upon his flatcheeks. He hoped she would not notice it.
But she did, for at that moment she turned and looked at his face, andher own eyes were dry, though they burned. She saw that his glistened,and she looked at him in surprise.
'I'm sorry,' he said, apologising as if he had done something rude. 'Ican't help it.'
Their hands were hanging near together as they walked, and herstouched his affectionately and gratefully, but she said nothing, andthey went on in silence for some time before she spoke again.
'You know everything now. I must be positively sure whether Leven isalive or dead, for what I have got back in these last two months is mywhole life. A mere recognition at first sight and at ten yards is notenough. It may be only a marvellous resemblance, for they say everyone has a "double" somewhere in the world.'
'They used to say, too, that if you met your "double" one of you woulddie,' observed Van Torp. 'Those things are all stuff and nonsense, ofcourse. I was just thinking. Well,' he continued, dwelling on hisfavourite monosyllable, 'if you decide to come on the yacht, and ifthe man doesn't blow away, we shall know the truth in three or fourdays from now, and that's a comfort. And even if he turns out to beLeven, maybe we can manage something.'
Lady Maud chose not to ask what her friend thought he could 'manage';for she had glanced at his face when he had spoken, and though it washalf turned away from her, she saw his expression, and it would havescared a nervous person. She did not like him to be in that mood, andwas sorry that she had brought him to it.
But Mr. Van Torp, who was a strong man, and had seen more than oneaffray in his ranching days, could not help thinking how uncommonlyeasy it would be to pick up Count Kralinsky and drop him overboard ona dark night next week, when the _Lancashire Lass_ would be doingtwenty-two knots, and there might be a little weather about to drownthe splash.