CHAPTER XXXIV.
HELP.
The moment she was gone, Watts held out his hand, saying: "Here, oldman, let us shake hands again. It's almost like going back to collegedays to see my old chum. Come to the snuggery, where we shan't beinterrupted." They went through two rooms, to one fitted up as asmoking-room and office. "It's papa-in-law's workshop. He can't drop hiswork at the bank, so he brings it home and goes on here. Sit down. Here,take a cigar. Now, are you comfortable?"
"Yes."
"_Maintenant_, I suppose you want to know why I wrote you to come soquickly?"
"Yes."
"Well, the truth of it is, I'm in an awful mess. Yesterday I was sodesperate I thought I should blow my brains out. I went round to theclub to see if I couldn't forget or drown my trouble, just as sick as aman could be. Fellows talking. First thing I heard was your name. 'Justwon a great case.' 'One of the best lawyers in New York.' Thinks I tomyself, 'That's a special providence.' Peter always was the fellow topull me through my college scrapes. I'll write him.' Did it, and playedbilliards for the rest of the evening, secure in the belief that youwould come to my help, just as you used to."
"Tell me what it is?"
"Even that isn't easy, chum. It's a devilish hard thing to tell even toyou."
"Is it money trou--?"
"No, no!" Watts interrupted. "It isn't that. The truth is I've a greatdeal more money than is good for me, and apparently always shall have. Iwish it were only that!"
"How can I help you?" began Peter.
"I knew you would," cried Watts, joyfully. "Just the same old reliableyou always were. Here. Draw up nearer. That's it. Now then, here goes. Ishan't mind if you are shocked at first. Be as hard on me as you like."
"Well?"
"Well, to make a long story short, I'm entangled with a woman, andthere's the devil to pay. Now you'll pull me through, old man, won'tyou?"
"No."
"Don't say that, Peter! You must help me. You're my only hope.
"I do not care to mix myself in such a business," said Peter, veryquietly. "I would rather know nothing about it." Peter rose.
"Don't desert me," cried Watts, springing to his feet, and putting hishand on Peter's shoulder, so as to prevent his progress to the door."Don't. She's going to expose me. Think of the disgrace! My God, Peter,think--"
"Take your hand off my shoulder."
"But Peter, think--"
"The time to think was before--not now, Watts. I will not concern myselfin this."
"But, old man. I can't face it. It will kill Helen!"
Peter had already thrown aside the arm, and had taken a step towards thedoorway. He stopped and turned. "She does not know?"
"Not a suspicion. And nothing but absolute proof will make her believeit. She worships me. Oh, Peter, save her! Save Leonore--if you won'tsave me!"
"Can they be saved?"
"That's what I want to know. Here--sit down, please! I'll tell you allabout it."
Peter hesitated a moment, and then sat down.
"It began in Paris twelve years ago. Such affairs have a way ofbeginning in Paris, old man. It's in the atmosphere. She--"
"Stop. I will ask questions. There's no good going over the wholestory." Peter tried to speak calmly, and to keep his voice and face fromshowing what he felt. He paused a moment, and then said: "She threatensto expose you. Why?"
"Well, after three years I tired of it and tried to end it. Then sheused it to blackmail me for ten years, till, in desperation, I came toAmerica, to see if I couldn't escape her."
"And she followed you?"
"Yes. She was always tracking me in Europe, and making my life a hell onearth, and now she's followed me here."
"If it's merely a question of money, I don't see what you want of me."
"She says she doesn't want money now--but revenge. She's perfectlyfurious over my coming off without telling her--always had an awfultemper--and--well, you know an infuriated woman is capable of anything.The Spaniard was right who said it was easier to take care of a peck offleas than one woman, eh, chum?"
"So she threatens to tell your wife?"
"No. She says she's going to summon me into court."
"On what grounds?"
"That's the worst part of it. You see, chum, there's a child, and shesays she's going to apply for a proper support for it. Proper support!Heavens! The money I've paid her would support ten children. It's onlytemper."
Peter said, "Watts, Watts," in a sad voice.
"Pretty bad, isn't it? If it wasn't for the child I could--"
Peter interrupted. "Has she any proofs of paternity besides--?"
Watts interrupted in turn. "Yes. Confound it! I was fool enough to writeletters during my infatuation. Talleyrand was right when he said onlyfools and women wrote letters."
"How could you?"
"That's what I've asked myself a hundred times. Oh, I'm sorry enough.I've sworn never to put pen to paper again. _Jamais!_"
"I did not mean the letters. But your vow."
"My vow?"
"Your marriage vow."
"Oh, yes. I know. But you know, chum, before you promise to love onewoman for all time you should have seen them all."
"And that display ten minutes ago was all mockery?"
"No, no! Really, Peter, I'm awfully fond of the little woman. Really Iam. And you know Daudet says a man can love two women at the same time."
"And if so, how about his honor?" Peter was trying to repress hisemotion, but it would jerk out questions.
"Yes, I know. I've said that to myself over and over again. Why, lookhere." Watts pulled a small revolver from his hip pocket. "This willshow you how close to the desperation point I have come. I've carriedthat for two days, so that if worse comes to worse--well. Phut!--_Voilatout_."
Peter rose, speaking in a voice ringing with scorn. "You would escapeyour sin, to leave it with added disgrace for your wife and daughter tobear! Put up your pistol, Watts D'Alloi. If I am to help you, I want tohelp a man--not a skulker. What do you want me to do?"
"That's what I wish to know. What can I do?"
"You have offered her money?"
"Yes. I told her that--"
"Never mind details," interrupted Peter, "Was it enough to put furtheroffers out of the question?"
"Yes. She won't hear of money. She wants revenge."
"Give me her name and address."
"Celestine--" The rest was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Well?"said Watts.
The door was opened, and a footman entered. "If you please, Mr. D'Alloi,there's a Frenchwoman at the door who wants to see you. She won't giveme her name, but says you'll know who it is."
"Say I won't see her. That I'm busy."
"She told me to say that if you were engaged, she'd see Mrs. D'Alloi."
"My God!" said Watts, under his breath.
"Ask the woman to come in here," said Peter, quietly, but in a way whichmade the man leave the room without waiting to see if Watts demurred.
A complete silence followed. Then came the rustle of skirts, and a womanentered the room. Peter, who stood aside, motioned to the footman to go,and closed the door himself, turning the key.
The woman came to the middle of the room. "So, Monsieur D'Alloi," shesaid in French, speaking very low and distinctly, "you thought it bestnot to order your groom to turn me out, as you did that last day inParis, when you supposed your flight to America left you free to do asyou pleased? But you did not escape me. Here I am."
Watts sat down in an easy-chair, and striking a match, lighted acigarette. "That, Celestine," he said in French, "is what in English wecall a self-evident proposition."
Celestine's foot began to tap the floor, "You needn't pretend youexpected I would follow you. You thought you could drop me, like an oldslipper."
Watts blew a whiff of tobacco from his mouth. "It was a remark ofRicard's, I believe, 'that in woman, one should always expect theunexpected.'"
"_Mon Dieu_!" shrieked Celestine.
"If I--if I could kill you--you--"
She was interrupted by Peter's bringing a chair to her and saying inFrench, "Will you not sit down, please?"
She turned in surprise, for she had been too wrought up to notice thatPeter was in the room. She stared at him and then sat down.
"That's right," said Watts. "Take it easy. No occasion to get excited."
"Ah!" screamed Celestine, springing to her feet, "your name shall be inall the papers. You shall--"
Peter again interrupted. "Madame, will you allow me to say something?"He spoke gently and deferentially.
Celestine looked at him again, saying rapidly: "Why should I listen toyou? What are you to me? I don't even know you. My mind's made up. Itell you--" The woman was lashing herself into a fury, and Peterinterrupted her again:
"Pardon me. We are strangers. If I ask anything of you for myself, Ishould expect a refusal. But I ask it for humanity, to which we all owehelp. Only hear what I have to say. I do not claim it as a right, but asa favor."
Celestine sat down. "I listen," she said. She turned her chair fromWatts and faced Peter, as he stood at the study table.
Peter paused a moment, and then said: "After what I have seen, I feelsure you wish only to revenge yourself on Mr. D'Alloi?"
"Yes."
"Now let me show you what you will do. For the last two days Mr. D'Alloihas carried a pistol in his pocket, and if you disgrace him he willprobably shoot himself."
"Bon!"
"But where is your revenge? He will be beyond your reach, and you willonly have a human life upon your conscience ever after."
"I shall not grieve!"
"Nor is that all. In revenging yourself on him, you do one of thecruelest acts possible. A wife, who trusts and believes in him, willhave her faith and love shattered. His daughter--a young girl, with allher life before her--must ever after despise her father and blush ather name. Do not punish the weak and innocent for the sin of theguilty!" Peter spoke with an earnestness almost terrible. Tears cameinto his eyes as he made his appeal, and his two auditors both rose totheir feet, under the impulse of his voice even more than of his words.So earnest was he, and so spell-bound were the others, that they failedto hear the door from the dining-room move, or notice the entrance ofMrs. D'Alloi as Peter ended his plea.
A moment's silence followed Peter's outburst of feeling. Then theFrenchwoman cried:
"Truly, truly. But what will you do for me and my child? Haven't we beenill-treated? Don't you owe us help, too? Justice? Don't we deservetenderness and protection?"
"Yes," said Peter. "But you wish revenge. Ask for justice, ask for help,and I will do what is within my power to aid you."
"Watts," cried Mrs. D'Alloi, coming forward, "of what child are youtalking? Whose child? Who is this woman?"
Watts jumped as if he had been shot. Celestine even retreated before theterrible voice and face with which Mrs. D'Alloi asked her questions. Asad, weary look came into Peter's eyes. No one answered Mrs. D'Alloi.
"Answer me," she cried
"My dear little woman. Don't get excited. It's all right." Watts managedto say this much. But he did not look his last remark.
"Answer me, I say. Who is this woman? Speak!"
"It's all right, really, it's all right. Here. Peter will tell you it'sall right."
"Peter," cried Mrs. D'Alloi. "Of whose child were you speaking?"
Peter was still standing by the desk. He looked sad and broken, as hesaid:
"This is the mother, Mrs. D'Alloi."
"Yes? Yes?"
Peter raised his eyes to Helen's and looked at her. Then he saidquietly:
"And Watts--will tell you that--I am its father."