Read The Man on the Box Page 18


  XVIII

  CAUGHT!

  Karloff came around to music. The dramatist's wife should play Tosti's_Ave Maria_, Miss Annesley should play the obligato on the violin andthe prima-donna should sing; but just at present the dramatist shouldtell them all about his new military play which was to be produced inDecember.

  "Count, I beg to decline," laughed the dramatist. "I should hardly dareto tell my plot before two such military experts as we have here. Ishould be told to write the play all over again, and now it is toolate."

  Whenever Betty's glance fell on her father's face, the gladness in herown was somewhat dimmed. What was making that loved face so care-worn,the mind so listless, the attitude so weary? But she was young; thespirits of youth never flow long in one direction. The repartee,brilliant and at the same time with every sting withdrawn, flashed upand down the table like so many fireflies on a wet lawn in July, anddrew her irresistibly.

  As the courses came and passed, so the conversation became less andless general; and by the time the ices were served the colonel hadengaged his host, and the others divided into twos. Then coffee,liqueurs and cigars, when the ladies rose and trailed into the littleTurkish room, where the "distinguished-looking butler" supplied themwith the amber juice.

  A dinner is a function where everybody talks and nobody eats. Some haveeaten before they come, some wish they had, and others dare not eat forfear of losing some of the gossip. I may be wrong, but I believe thathalf of these listless appetites are due to the natural confusion offorks.

  After the liqueurs my butler concluded that his labor was done, and heoffered up a short prayer of thankfulness and relief. Heavens, whatmad, fantastic impulses had seized him while he was passing the soup!Supposing he _had_ spilled the hot liquid down Karloff's back, orpoured out a glass of burgundy for himself and drained it before themall, or slapped his late colonel on the back and asked him the state ofhis liver? It was maddening, and he marveled at his escape. Therehadn't been a real mishap. The colonel had only scowled at him; he wassafe. He passed secretly from the house and hung around the bow-windowwhich let out on the low balcony. The window was open, and occasionallyhe could hear a voice from beyond the room, which was dark.

  It was one of those nights, those mild November nights, to which thenovelists of the old regime used to devote a whole page; the silverypallor on the landscape, the moon-mists, the round, white, inevitablemoon, the stirring breezes, the murmur of the few remaining leaves, andall that. But these busy days we have not the time to read nor theinclination to describe.

  Suddenly upon the stillness of the night the splendor of a human voicebroke forth; the prima-donna was trying her voice. A violin wailed anote. A hand ran up and down the keys of the piano. Warburton held hisbreath and waited. He had heard Tosti's _Ave Maria_ many times, but henever will forget the manner in which it was sung that night. Thesongstress was care-free and among persons she knew and liked, and sheput her soul into that magnificent and mysterious throat of hers, Andthrobbing all through the song was the vibrant, loving voice of theviolin. And when the human tones died away and the instruments ceasedto speak, Warburton felt himself swallowing rapidly. Then cameSchumann's _Traumerei_ on the strings, Handel's _Largo_, Grieg's_Papillon_, and a _ballade_ by Chaminade. Then again sang theprima-donna; old folksy songs, sketches from the operas grand andlight, _Faust_, _The Barber of Seville_, _La Fille de Madame Angot_. Inall his days Warburton had never heard such music. Doubtless he_had_--even better; only at this period he was in love. The imaginationof love's young dream is the most stretchable thing I know of.Seriously, however, he was a very good judge of music, and I amconvinced that what he heard was out of the ordinary.

  But I must guide my story into the channel proper.

  During the music Karloff and Colonel Annesley drifted into the latter'sstudy. What passed between them I gathered from bits recently droppedby Warburton.

  "Good God, Karloff, what a net you have sprung about me!" said thecolonel, despairingly.

  "My dear Colonel, you have only to step out of it. It is the eleventhhour; it is not too late." But Karloff watched the colonel eagerly.

  "How in God's name can I step out of it?"

  "Simply reimburse me for that twenty thousand I advanced to you in goodfaith, and nothing more need be said." The count's Slavonic eyes werehalf-lidded.

  "To give you back that amount will leave me a beggar, an absolutebeggar, without a roof to shelter me. I am too old for the service, andbesides, I am physically incapacitated. If you should force me, I couldnot meet my note save by selling the house my child was born in. Haveyou discounted it?"

  "No. Why should I present it at the bank? It does not mature till nextMonday, and I am in no need of money."

  "What a wretch I am!"

  Karloff raised his shoulders resignedly.

  "My daughter!"

  "Or my ducats," whimsically quoted the count. "Come, Colonel; do notwaste time in useless retrospection. He stumbles who looks back. I havebeen thinking of your daughter. I love her, deeply, eternally."

  "You love her?"

  "Yes. I love her because she appeals to all that is young and good inme; because she represents the highest type of womanhood. With her asmy wife, why, I should be willing to renounce my country, and yourindebtedness would be crossed out of existence with one stroke of thepen."

  The colonel's haggard face grew light with sudden hopefulness.

  "I have been," the count went on, studying the ash of his cigar, "tillthis night what the world and my own conscience consider an honorableman. I have never wronged a man or woman personally. What I have doneon the order of duty does not agitate my conscience. I am simply amachine. The moral responsibility rests with my czar. When I saw yourdaughter, I deeply regretted that you were her father."

  The colonel grew rigid in his chair.

  "Do not misunderstand me. Before I saw her, you were but the key towhat I desired. As her father the matter took on a personal side. Icould not very conscientiously make love to your daughter and at thesame time--" Karloff left the sentence incomplete.

  "And Betty?"--in half a whisper.

  "Has refused me,"--quietly. "But I have not given her up; no, I havenot given her up."

  "What do you mean to do?"

  Karloff got up and walked about the room. "Make her my wife,"--simply.He stooped and studied the titles of some of the books in the cases. Heturned to find that the colonel had risen and was facing him withflaming eyes.

  "I demand to know how you intend to accomplish this end," the colonelsaid. "My daughter shall not be dragged into this trap."

  "To-morrow night I will explain everything; to-night,nothing,"--imperturbably.

  "Karloff, to-night I stand a ruined and dishonored man. My head, onceheld so proudly before my fellow-men, is bowed with shame. The countryI have fought and bled for I have in part betrayed. But not for mygain, not for my gain. No, no! Thank God that I can say that! Personalgreed has not tainted me. Alone, I should have gone serenely into somepoor house and eked out an existence on my half-pay. But this child ofmine, whom I love doubly, for her mother's sake and her own,--I wouldgladly cut off both arms to spare her a single pain, to keep her in theluxury which she still believes rightfully to be hers. When the feverof gaming possessed me, I should have told her. I did not; therein liesmy mistake, the mistake which has brought me to this horrible end.Virginius sacrificed his child to save her; I will sacrifice my honorto save mine from poverty. Force her to wed a man she does not love?No. To-morrow night we shall complete this disgraceful bargain. Theplans are all finished but one. Now leave me; I wish to be alone."

  "Sir, it is my deep regret--"

  "Go; there is nothing more to be said."

  Karloff withdrew. He went soberly. There was nothing sneering norcontemptuous in his attitude. Indeed, there was a frown of pity on hisface. He recognized that circumstances had dragged down a noble man;that chance had tricked him of his honor. How he hated his own evilplan! He squared his s
houlders, determined once more to put it to thetouch to win or lose it all.

  He found her at the bow-window, staring up at the moon. As I remarked,this room was dark, and she did not instantly recognize him.

  "I am moon-gazing," she said.

  "Let me sigh for it with you. Perhaps together we may bring it down."There was something very pleasing in the quality of his tone.

  "Ah, it is you, Count? I could not see. But let us not sigh for themoon; it would be useless. Does any one get his own wish-moon? Does itnot always hang so high, so far away?"

  "The music has affected you?"

  "As it always does. When I hear a voice like madam's, I grow sad, and apity for the great world surges over me."

  "Pity is the invisible embrace which enfolds all animate things. Thereis pity for the wretched, for the fool, for the innocent knave, forthose who are criminals by their own folly; pity for those who lovewithout reward; pity that embraces ... even me."

  Silence.

  "Has it ever occurred to you that there are two beings in each of us;that between these two there is a continual conflict, and that thevictor finally prints the victory on the face? For what lines andhaggards a man's face but the victory of the evil that is in him? Forwhat makes the aged ruddy and smooth of face and clear of eye but thevictory of the good that is in him? It is so. I still love you; I stillhave the courage to ask you to be my wife. Shall there be faces haggardor ruddy, lined or smooth?"

  She stepped inside. She did not comprehend all he said, and his facewas in the shadow--that is to say, unreadable.

  "I am sorry, very, very sorry."

  "How easily you say that!"

  "No, not easily; if only you knew how hard it comes, for I know that itinflicts a hurt,"--gently. "Ah, Count, why indeed do I not loveyou?"--impulsively, for at that time she held him in genuine regard."You represent all that a woman could desire in a man."

  "You could learn,"--with an eager step toward her.

  "You do not believe that; you know that you do not. Love has nothing tolearn; the heart speaks, and that is all. My heart does not speak whenI see you, and I shall never marry a man to whom it does not. You askfor something which I can not give, and each time you ask you only addto the pain."

  "This is finality?"

  "It is."

  "Eh, well; then I must continue on to the end."

  She interpreted this as a plaint of his coming loneliness.

  "Here!" she said. She held in her hands two red roses. She thrust onetoward him. "That is all I may give you."

  For a moment he hesitated. There were thorns, invisible and stinging.

  "Take it!"

  He accepted it, kissed it gravely, and hid it.

  "This is the bitterest moment in my life, and doubly bitter because Ilove you."

  When the portiere fell behind him, she locked her hands, grieving thatall she could give him was an ephemeral flower. How many men had turnedfrom her in this wise, even as she began to depend upon them for theirfriendships! The dark room oppressed her and she stepped out once moreinto the silver of moonshine. Have you ever beheld a lovely womanfondle a lovely rose? She drew it, pendent on its slender stem, slowlyacross her lips, her eyes shining mistily with waking dreams. Shebreathed in the perfume, then cupped the flower in the palm of her handand pressed it again and again to her lips. A long white arm stretchedoutward and upward toward the moon, and when it withdrew the hand wasempty.

  Warburton, hidden behind the vines, waited until she was gone, and thenhunted in the grass for the precious flower. On his hands and knees hegroped. The dew did not matter. And when at last he found it, not allthe treasures of the fabled Ophir would have tempted him to part withit. It would be a souvenir for his later days.

  As he rose from his knees he was confronted by a broad-shouldered,elderly man in evening clothes. The end of a cigar burned brightlybetween his teeth.

  "I'll take that flower, young man, if you please."

  Warburton's surprise was too great for sudden recovery.

  "It is mine, Colonel," he stammered.

  The colonel filliped away his cigar and caught my butler roughly by thearm.

  "Warburton, what the devil does this mean--a lieutenant of minepeddling soup around a gentleman's table?"