XX
THE EPISODE OF THE STOVE-PIPE
In the morning Monsieur Pierre faithfully reported to his mistress thegroom's extraordinary insolence and impudence of the night before. Thegirl struggled with and conquered her desire to laugh; for monsieur wassomewhat grotesque in his rage.
"Frightful, Mademoiselle, most frightful! He call me Pe_taire_ mostdisrrrespectful way, and eject me from zee stables. I can not call heemout; he ees a groom and knows nozzing uf zee _amende honorable._"
Mademoiselle summoned M'sieu Zhames. She desired to make the comedycomplete in all its phases.
"James, whenever you are called upon to act in the capacity of butler,you must clear the table after the guests leave it. This is imperative.I do not wish the scullery girl to handle the porcelain save in thetubs. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Miss. There were no orders to that effect last night, however."He was angry.
Monsieur Pierre puffed up like the lady-frog in Aesop's fables,
"And listen, Pierre," she said, collapsing the bubble of the chef'sconceit, "you must give no orders to James. I will do that. I do notwish any tale-bearing or quarreling among my servants. I insist uponthis. Observe me carefully, Pierre, and you, James."
James _did_ observe her carefully, so carefully, indeed, that her gazewas forced to wander to the humiliated countenance of Monsieur Pierre.
"James, you must not look at me like that. There is something in youreyes; I can't explain what it is, but it somehow lacks the respect dueme." This command was spoken coldly and sharply.
"Respect?" He drew back a step. "I disrespectful to you, Miss Annesley?Oh, you wrong me. There can not be any one more respectful to you thanI am." The sincerity of his tones could not be denied. In fact, he wasalmost too sincere.
"Nevertheless, I wish you to regard what I have said. Now, you twoshake hands."
The groom and the chef shook hands. I am ashamed to say that Jamessqueezed Monsieur Pierre's flabby hand out of active service forseveral hours that followed. Beads of agony sparkled on MonsieurPierre's expansive brow as he turned to enter the kitchen.
"Shall we ride to-day, Miss?" he asked, inwardly amused.
"No, _I_ shall not ride this morning,"--calmly.
James bowed meekly under the rebuke. What did he care? Did he notpossess a rose which had known the pressure of her lips, her warm, redlips?
"You may go," she said.
James went. James whistled on the way, too.
Would that it had been my good fortune to have witnessed the episode ofthat afternoon! My jehu, when he hears it related these days, smiles asickly grin. I do not believe that he ever laughed heartily over it. Atthree o'clock, while Warburton was reading the morning paper,interested especially in the Army news of the day, he heard Pierre'svoice wailing.
"What's the fat fool want now?" James grumbled to William.
"Oh, he's always yelling for help. They've coddled him so long in thefamily that he acts like a ten-year-old kid. I stole a kiss fromCeleste one day, and I will be shot if he didn't start to blubber."
"You stole a kiss, eh?" said James, admiringly.
"Only just for the sport of making him crazy, that was all." ButWilliam's red visage belied his indifferent tone. "You'd better go andsee what he wants. My hands are all harness grease."
Warburton concluded to follow William's advice. He flung down his paperand strode out to the rear porch, where he saw Pierre gesticulatingwildly.
"What's the matter? What do you want?"--churlishly.
"Frightful! Zee stove-pipe ees vat you call _bust!_"
James laughed.
"I can not rrreach eet. I can not cook till eet ees fix'. You are tall,eh?"--affably.
"All right; I'll help you fix it."
Grumbling, James went into the kitchen, mounted a chair, and beganbanging away at the pipe, very much after the fashion of Bunner's"Culpepper Ferguson." The pipe acted piggishly. James grew determined.One end slipped in and then the other slipped out, half a dozen times.James lost patience and became angry; and in his anger he overreachedhimself. The chair slid back. He tried to balance himself and, in themad effort to maintain a perpendicular position, made a frantic clutchat the pipe. Ruin and devastation! Down came the pipe, and with it apeck of greasy soot.
Monsieur Pierre yelled with terror and despair. The pies on the rearend of the stove were lost for ever. Mademoiselle Celeste screamed withlaughter, whether at the sight of the pies or M'sieu Zhames, is morethan I can say.
James rose to his feet, the cuss-words of a corporal rumbled behind hislips. He sent an energetic kick toward Pierre, who succeeded in eludingit.
Pierre's eyes were full of tears. What a kitchen! What a kitchen! Soot,soot, everywhere, on the floor, on the tables, on the walls, in the air!
"Zee pipe!" he burst forth; "zee pipe! You haf zee house full of gas!"
James, blinking and sneezing, boiling with rage and chagrin, remountedthe chair and finally succeeded in joining the two lengths. Nothinghappened this time. But the door to the forward rooms opened, and MissAnnesley looked in upon the scene.
"Merciful heavens!" she gasped, "what has happened?"
"Zee stove-pipe bust, Mees," explained Pierre.
The girl gave Warburton one look, balled her handkerchief against hermouth, and fled. This didn't add to his amiability. He left the kitchenin a downright savage mood. He had appeared before her positivelyridiculous, laughable. A woman never can love a man, nor entertaintender regard for him at whom she has laughed: And the girl hadlaughed, and doubtless was still laughing. (However, I do not offer hisopinion as infallible.)
He stood in the roadway, looking around for some inanimate thing uponwhich he might vent his anger, when the sound of hoofs coming towardhim distracted him. He glanced over his shoulder... and his knees allbut gave way under him. Caught! The rider was none other than hissister Nancy! It was all over now, for a certainty. He knew it; he hadabout one minute to live. She was too near, so he dared not fly. Then abrilliant inspiration came to him. He quickly passed his hand over hisface. The disguise was complete. Vidocq's wonderful eye could not havepenetrated to the flesh.
"James!" Miss Annesley was standing on the veranda. "Take charge of thehorse. Nancy, dear, I am so glad to see you!"
James was anything but glad.
"Betty, good gracious, whatever is the matter with this fellow? Has hethe black plague? Ugh!" She slid from the saddle unaided.
James stolidly took the reins.
"The kitchen stove-pipe fell down," Betty replied, "and James stood inthe immediate vicinity of it."
The two girls laughed joyously, but James did not even smile. He hadhalf a notion to kiss Nancy, as he had planned to do that memorablenight of the ball at the British embassy. But even as the notion cameto him, Nancy had climbed up the steps and was out of harm's way.
"James," said Miss Annesley, "go and wash your face at once."
"Yes, Miss."
At the sound of his voice Nancy turned swiftly; but the groom hadpresented his back and was leading the horse to the stables.
Nancy would never tell me the substance of her conversation with MissAnnesley that afternoon, but I am conceited enough to believe that acertain absent gentleman was the main topic. When she left, it wasWilliam who led out the horse. He explained that James was stillengaged with soap and water and pumice-stone. Miss Annesley's laughterrang out heartily, and Nancy could not help joining her.
"And have you heard from that younger brother of yours?" Betty asked,as her friend settled herself in the saddle.
"Not a line, Betty, not a line; and I had set my heart on your meetinghim. I do not know where he is, or when he will be back."
"Perhaps he is in quest of adventures."
"He is in Canada, hunting caribou."
"You don't tell me!"
"What a handsome girl you are, Betty!"--admiringly.
"What a handsome girl you are, Nancy!" mimicked the girl on theveranda. "If your brother is only
half as handsome, I do not knowwhatever will become of this heart of mine when we finally meet." Shesmiled and drolly placed her hands on her heart. "Don't look sodisappointed, Nan; perhaps we may yet meet. I have an idea that he willprove interesting and entertaining;"--and she laughed again.
"Whoa, Dandy! What _are_ you laughing at?" demanded Nancy.
"I was thinking of James and his soap and water and pumice-stone. Thatwas all, dear. Saturday afternoon, then, we shall ride to the club andhave tea. Good-by, and remember me to the baby."
"Good-by!"--and Nancy cantered away.
What a blissful thing the lack of prescience is, sometimes!
When James had scraped the soot from his face and neck and hands, andhad sudsed it from his hair, James observed, with some concern, thatPirate was coughing at a great rate. His fierce run against the windthe day before had given him a cold. So James hunted about for thehandy veterinarian.
"Where do you keep your books here?" he asked William. "Pirate's got acold."
"In the house library. You just go in and get it. We always do that athome. You'll find it on the lower shelf, to the right as you enter thedoor."
It was half after four when James, having taken a final look at hishands and nails, proceeded to follow William's instructions. He foundno one about. Outside the kitchen the lower part of the house wasdeserted. To reach the library he had to pass through the music-room.He saw the violin-case on the piano, and at once unconsciously pursedhis lips into a noiseless whistle. He passed on into the library. Hehad never been in any of these rooms in the daytime. It was not verylight, even now.
The first thing that caught his attention was a movable drawing-board,on which lay an uncompleted drawing. At one side stood a glass, intowhich were thrust numerous pens and brushes. Near this lay a small ballof crumpled cambric, such as women insist upon carrying in theirstreet-car purses, a delicate, dainty, useless thing. So she drewpictures, too, he thought. Was there anything this beautiful creaturecould not do? Everything seemed to suggest her presence. An indefinablefeminine perfume still lingered on the air, speaking eloquently of her.
Curiosity impelled him to step forward and examine her work. Heapproached with all the stealth of a gentlemanly burglar. He expectedto see some trees and hills and mayhap a brook, or some cows standingin a stream, or some children picking daisies. He had a sister, and wasreasonably familiar with the kind of subjects chosen by thelady-amateur.
A fortification plan!
He bent close to it. Here was the sea, here was the land, here thenumber of soldiers, cannon, rounds of ammunition, resources in thematter of procuring aid, the telegraph, the railways, everything washere on this pale, waxen cloth, everything but a name. He stared at it,bewildered. He couldn't understand what a plan of this sort was doingoutside the War Department. Instantly he became a soldier; he forgotthat he was masquerading as a groom; he forgot everything but this mutething staring up into his face. Underneath, on a little shelf, he saw astack of worn envelopes. He looked at them. Rough drafts of plans.Governor's Island! Fortress Monroe! What did it mean? What _could_ itmean? He searched and found plans, plans, plans of harbors, plans ofcoast defenses, plans of ships building, plans of full naval andmilitary strength; everything, everything! He straightened. How hisbreath pained him! ... And all this was the handiwork of the woman heloved! Good God, what was going on in this house? What right had suchthings as these to be in a private home? For what purpose had they beendrawn? so accurately reproduced? For what purpose?
Oh, whatever the purpose was, _she_ was innocent; upon this convictionhe would willingly stake his soul. Innocent, innocent! ticked the clockover the mantel. Yes, she was innocent. Else, how could she laugh inthat light-hearted fashion? How could the song tremble on her lips? Howcould her eyes shine so bright and merry?... Karloff, Annesley! Karloffthe Russian, Annesley the American; the one a secret agent of hiscountry, the other a former trusted official! No, no! He could notentertain so base a thought against the father of the girl he loved.Had he not admired his clean record, his personal bravery, his fearlesshonesty? And yet, that absent-mindedness, this care-worn countenance,these must mean something. The purpose, to find out the purpose ofthese plans!
"A Saint Bernard dog might have done as much."--ACT III]
He took the handkerchief and hid it in his breast, and quietly stoleaway.... A handkerchief, a rose, and a kiss; yes, that was all thatwould ever be his.
Pirate nearly coughed his head off that night; but, it being William'snight off, nobody paid any particular attention to that justlyindignant animal.