XXXIX
ON THE ROAD TO NEWPORT
Through the blue dusk of the June night a big gray limousine car bowledsmoothly over the velvet road surface, with the moon overhead, and thesea making distant music. Turning a corner with a swing the limousinecame upon another car, stationary and in trouble. A man in evening dresswas holding an electric lamp for the chauffeur to peer under the bonnet,and standing beside him was a woman in black, wearing a filmy purplecloak.
"Want any help?" O'Reilly called from the window, while his chauffeurslowed down.
"No, thank you! We'll soon be all right," answered the man with thelamp. The light shone on his face, which was strange to O'Reilly, and onthat of the woman, which, to his surprise, was familiar. "You can goon," he said to his chauffeur, in a low voice.
"Why, Mr. O'Reilly, it was Mrs. Heron!" Clo cried, sinking backreluctantly upon her comfortably rigged-up bed, after a long starethrough the window.
"'Mr. O'Reilly,' indeed? Don't you realize I'm your husband?" Justinlaughed at her.
"I'd forgotten," said Clo. "It's only since this morning, and we've hadso many things to think of."
"I've thought of nothing but you. You seem to have thought of nothingbut your Angel--and these Herons."
"It's the Herons I'm thinking of now," Clo confessed. "Why did you tellthe man to go on?"
"Why, I like old John Heron, but I'm not a spoil-sport."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm wondering if Mrs. Heron and that chap are on their way to theSands' ball. If Heron doesn't mind letting them enjoy each other'scompany, why should I butt in?"
"Mr. Heron was in the car," Clo insisted gravely. "It was dark inside,but I saw his face at the window."
"You must have sharp eyes," said Justin. "The window looked black as apocket to me."
"You think I imagined it. But I'm sure! Oh, Mr.--er--Justin, do let's goback and warn him! I have a presentiment that if we don't, it will betoo late."
"Whatever you feel as if you must do shall be done," said Justin, with atenderness in his voice of which few people would have believed himcapable. "The doctor humoured you, and told me to, so here goes!" Hecalled through the speaking-tube, and directed the chauffeur to turn."Go back till you get within a few yards of that auto we passed hung upon the road," he added. And to Clo:
"Astonishing the interest you take in the Herons!" he teased.
"Not in them. In him. I don't think I like Mrs. Heron," she explained.
"You've worried about him ever since you came to yourself yesterday. Butthen, I'm used to John Heron's life being threatened. It used to happenabout once a week. And he is alive to this day."
"I feel awfully responsible," said Clo. "You see, I heard Kit and Churntalking of the plot, and saying that Chuff was sure to have foundsomeone else, after Pete died."
"I tried to get Heron three times on long distance yesterday," saidO'Reilly, "and when he was always out, I wired."
"You couldn't explain clearly in the telegram."
"If you really saw him in the car, he's all right, up to date. There itis, still stranded. We shall soon know."
"Will you get out and talk to him seriously?" Clo urged.
"Yes. If it's he and not his ghost you saw. I'll get him to walk alongthe road with me, out of earshot from his wife."
The gray limousine slowed, and carefully stopped. The chauffeur had beentold that, for his life, he must not let the car jolt or jerk.
Justin kissed his bride of a few hours good-bye for a few minutes, andjumped out.
While Clo kissed her hand, almost timidly, because Justin had kissed it,Justin himself walked on to the other car.
"You!" exclaimed Dolores Heron. "So it was you in the limousine thathailed us? Funny I didn't recognize your voice, but the chauffeur'stinkering made such a noise----"
O'Reilly was about to ask for Heron when Dolores introduced him to Mr.Hammersley-Fisher. "He's our host at Narragansett, and is taking us overto Roger Sands,'" she said. "Jack's in the car, very bored. I believehe's gone to sleep."
"No, he hasn't," Heron's voice answered rather testily, for he secretlydisliked Dolores' habit of calling him "Jack." "He's only waiting for achance to speak!"
O'Reilly went to the window of the car, and shook hands with hisfriends.
"It's not possible that you're going to the Sands'?" Heron said.
"I should have made the same remark about you a few days ago," retortedO'Reilly. "But--circumstances have altered cases with us both."
"My wife is the circumstance that has altered my case," Heron replied,in the tone of a man with a grievance.
"So is mine!" returned Justin, in a purposely subdued tone.
"Your--what?"
"My wife. But let's take a walk. Your friend's auto won't be ready tomove for some time, I should judge."
The elder man, who had been feeling ill and tired, sprang out of the carwith a sudden increase of liveliness. Dolores and Hammersley-Fisherstood with their backs to the two men. Heron's wife turned for a glance,but let them walk away without a question. She was flirting with herhost.
Dolores was saying to Hammersley-Fisher: "I dislike Mrs. Roger Sandsintensely. I wouldn't dream of going to her house if her husband hadn'tat one time done quite a service--legally, I mean--to mine. I don'toften talk like this about people I'm going to visit. But if I couldtell you the things that woman has done you wouldn't blame me."
To O'Reilly Heron was repeating, as they walked along:
"Your wife, did you say?"
"I did say. But before I go on I've a question or so to ask. You got mywire, advising you to be careful, and hinting that some of the old lothad bobbed up along your life line?"
"Yes. We were out all the afternoon. I found the wire this evening whenwe got back to Hammersley-Fisher's place to dress for this show at RogerSands'. Now will you tell me----"
"I'll tell you this, that my opinion of Mrs. Roger Sands has changed.You shall hear why presently. I rather think it will give you pleasureto change yours--when you can conscientiously. As for Sands himself,I've learned that we have both done him an injustice in regard to thosepapers."
"How have you learned all this?"
"From the same person who wished me to put you on your guard--made mecall you up at Narragansett, and wire when I couldn't reach you by'phone!"
"Who is this person?"
"My wife. And if you want to know who she is----"
"I most certainly do."
"I could introduce you to her in about two minutes if I weren't afraidof her giving you another shock."
"Another--shock?"
"As she did on the Sunday night at our hotel when you had your--littleattack. Heron, I've married that girl; the most wonderful girl in theworld."
Heron stopped short.
"That girl!--you--have--_married_ that girl?"
"Yes," said Justin, "I married her this morning. So, if you'd beeninclined to forbid the banns, you're too late."
For an instant Heron did not speak. But when words came, he seemed tofling them at his friend: "You're not joking when you say that,O'Reilly. You have a meaning. What's in your mind?"
"Perhaps--the same thing that's in yours, Heron."
"Speak out plainly."
"I'm not prepared to do that without encouragement. You and I are bothof Irish blood, Heron, so you know as well as I do that imagination getsout of hand now and then with us Celtic folk. We generally flatterourselves it's second sight, whereas it may be--just nothing at all."
"I give you leave to speak."
"Long ago, when I first knew you, while my father was still alive, andbefore you married Miss Moreno, you once came to stop with us. You wererun down and ill. My father thought we could do you good. One day youspoke rather frankly about a certain incident in your past. Never sincehave we mentioned that conversation, and I never expected to do soagain. Yesterday I heard the story of another incident which matched itabout as perfectly as two bits of a broken coin can join together. T
hissecond incident concerned two Irish girls. The first died years ago. Thesecond--is my wife."
"And the first was mine."
"I was wondering. You see, that collapse of yours on Sunday night wasn'tlike you, in the normal course of things. It had to be accounted for,and so----"
"The girl told you!"
"She told me that she'd met outside my door a tall man with red hair andbeard, and extraordinary eyes that pierced her through and through. Shetold me that, after she'd walked on to a stone ledge from my window toyours, and climbed in there----"
"Great Heavens!"
"I mentioned that she was the most wonderful girl in the world. You'llhear the story some day. She didn't know who you were, then. When shelearned your name, although she wasn't conscious of having heard it inthe past, it affected her strangely. She seemed to associate it withwakeful nights in her early childhood, and the sound of a woman's sobsin the dark."
"Don't, Justin. I can't stand any more--now. The sight of her face thatSunday at the Dietz--the ghostliness of her, in my locked room--Ithought I was haunted."
"Would you like to see her again, and judge for yourself whether----"
"Take me to her," Heron broke in.
They started on again toward the gray limousine drawn up at the roadsideonly a few yards away; but before they had gone a dozen steps Heronstopped O'Reilly once more.
"Does she know?" he asked abruptly.
"I have said nothing to her," Justin assured him. "She cannot know. YetI think, what one would call her 'subconscious self' is aware of a tiebetween you and herself. She's Celtic, too! She hasn't been able to restsince she learned (in a way you shall hear about later) that your lifewas threatened. I'm certain that something above Fate has brought usthree together on the road to-night. I didn't see you in the car. Shesaw you. She made me turn back."
Without another word Heron began to walk very fast. Justin kept at hisside, but did not speak until they had nearly reached the car whichcontained Clo. Then he warned Heron hastily that the girl had had anaccident. "That is," he corrected himself, dryly, "she was shot by theleader of the band that's after you. If you want to tell her here andnow what you think you are to each other, I don't forbid it. Happy newsseldom hurts. (By the by, she explained to me that she came over toAmerica because she thought the States looked small on the map, and shemight meet her American father!) Go gently with her, that's all I ask."
"You give me leave to talk to her--as I wish?"
"Yes. But--what about Mrs. Heron? Is she----"
"Oh, later, I must tell her. To-night I want it to rest betweenourselves. But, O'Reilly, I can't go on with my wife and that fellow,Hammersley-Fisher, to the Sands'--after this! What am I to do? Thinkfor me. I can think only--of one thing."
"When I've introduced you to my wife" (each time O'Reilly spoke thosetwo words it was with tenderness and pride) "I'll go back toHammersley-Fisher's car and suggest that he take Mrs. Heron on, while wefollow later, if you like."
"For heaven's sake, do."
They had reached the gray limousine. Justin opened the door. "Clo, hereis my old friend, John Heron, come to see you," he announced.
"Clo! Her name's not 'Clodagh,' is it?" the question leapt from Heron'slips.
"It was one of my mother's names, Mr. Heron."
"And your voice is her voice!" he exclaimed. "Your face is her face." Hehad not meant to begin in this way; but the moment was too big for himwhen Clo switched on an electric lamp, and the light framed her insilver. Justin silently moved away, leaving the two to make acquaintanceas Fate led.
Next morning the newspapers all over the country were head-lined with anew sensation. Mrs. John Heron, of California, had arrived rather late,on account of an accident to the car of Mr. Hammersley-Fisher, who hadbeen entertaining the Herons at Narragansett. Mr. Heron, owing toindisposition, had remained behind, and only the lady's host hadaccompanied her to the ball. At the moment of their entrance a dance,given by several famous Russian professionals, was nearly ended. Anextra dancer had accompanied the party as an understudy of one of itsmembers who feared a breakdown. Not being called upon to dance, he hadtaken up his station near the door, and must have known Mrs. John Heronby sight, though not her husband. When she came in, accompanied byHammersley-Fisher, he shot the latter through the breast, calling out inEnglish: "Take that, John Heron, for your sins against the Comrades!"
Unfortunately the Russian--or pretended Russian--was allowed to escapein the confusion, but the police had hopes of getting upon his track.Mr. Hammersley-Fisher was seriously, but not fatally, injured. All theguests of Mr. and Mrs. Sands, with the exception of four, had left, thatthe house might be kept quiet for the invalid.
The four who remained were Mr. and Mrs. John Heron, Justin O'Reilly, andJustin O'Reilly's wife.
THE END
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