XXII
THE DRAMA UNROLLS
When a dramatist submits his _scenario_, he always accompanies it withdrawings, crude or otherwise, of the various set-scenes and curtainsknown as drops. To the uninitiated these scrawls would look impossible;but to the stage-manager's keen, imaginative eye a whole picture isrepresented in these few pothooks. Each object on the stage is labeledalphabetically; thus A may represent a sofa, B a window, C a table, andso forth and so on. I am not a dramatist; I am not writing an actingdrama; so I find that a diagram of the library in Senator Blank's houseis neither imperative nor advisable. It is half after eight; thecurtain rises; the music of a violin is heard coming from themusic-room; Colonel Annesley is discovered sitting in front of the woodfire, his chin sunk on his breast, his hands hanging listlessly on eachside of the chair, his face deeply lined. From time to time he looks atthe clock. I can imagine no sorrier picture than that of this loving,tender-hearted, wretched old man as he sits there, waiting for Karloffand the ignominious end. Fortune gone with the winds, poverty leeringinto his face, shame drawing her red finder across his brow, honor insackcloth and ashes!
And but two short years ago there had not been in all the wide land amore contented man than himself, a man with a conscience freer. God!Even yet he could hear the rolling, whirring ivory ball as it spun thecircle that fatal night at Monte Carlo. Man does not recall theintermediate steps of his fall, only the first step and the last. Inhis waking hours the colonel always heard the sound of it, and itrattled through his troubled dreams. He could not understand howeverything had gone as it had. It seemed impossible that in two yearshe had dissipated a fortune, sullied his honor, beggared his child. Itwas all so like a horrible dream. If only he might wake; if only Godwould be so merciful as to permit him to wake! He hid his face. Thereis no hell save conscience makes it.
The music laughed and sighed and laughed. It was the music of love andyouth; joyous, rollicking, pulsing music.
The colonel sprang to his feet suddenly, his hands at his throat. Hewas suffocating. The veins gnarled on his neck and brow. There was inhis heart a pain as of many knives. His arms fell: of what use was itto struggle? He was caught, trapped in a net of his own contriving.
Softly he crossed the room and stood by the portiere beyond which wasthe music-room. She was happy, happy in her youth and ignorance; shecould play all those sprightly measures, her spirit as light andconscience-free; she could sing, she could laugh, she could dance. Andall the while his heart was breaking, breaking!
"How shall I face her mother?" he groaned.
The longing which always seizes the guilty to confess and relieve themind came over him. If only he dared rush in there, throw himself ather feet, and stammer forth his wretched tale! She was of his flesh, ofhis blood; when she knew she would not wholly condemn him . . . No, no!He could not. She honored and trusted him now; she had placed him on sohigh a pedestal that it was utterly impossible for him to disillusionher young mind, to see for ever and ever the mute reproach in herhonest eyes, to feel that though his arm encircled her she was beyondhis reach.... God knew that he could not tell this child of the blackgulf he had digged for himself and her.
Sometimes there came to him the thought to put an end to this maddeninggrief, by violence to period this miserable existence. But always hecast from him the horrible thought. He was not a coward, and thecowardice of suicide was abhorrent to him. Poverty he might leave her,but not the legacy of a suicide. If only it might be God's kindly willto let him die, once this abominable bargain was consummated! Death isthe seal of silence; it locks alike the lips of the living and thedead. And she might live in ignorance, till the end of her days,without knowing that her wealth was the price of her father's dishonor.
A mist blurred his sight; he could not see. He steadied himself, andwith an effort regained his chair noiselessly. And how often he hadsmiled at the drama on the stage, with its absurdities, its tawdriness,its impossibilities! Alas, what did they on the stage that was half soweak as he had done: ruined himself without motive or reason!
The bell sang its buzzing note; there was the sound of crunching wheelson the driveway; the music ceased abruptly. Silence. A door opened andclosed. A moment or so later Karloff, preceded by the girl, came intothe study. She was grave because she remembered Mrs. Chadwick. He wasgrave also; he had various reasons for being so.
"Father, the count tells me that he has an engagement with you," shesaid. She wondered if this appointment in any way concerned her.
"It is true, my child. Leave us, and give orders that we are not to bedisturbed."
She scrutinized him sharply. How strangely hollow his voice sounded!Was he ill?
"Father, you are not well. Count, you must promise me not to keep himlong, however important this interview may be. He is ill and needsrest,"--and her loving eyes caressed each line of care in her parent'sfurrowed cheeks.
Annesley smiled reassuringly. It took all the strength of his will, allthat remained of a high order of courage, to create this smile. Hewanted to cry out to her that it was a lie, a mockery. Behind thatsmile his teeth grated.
"I shall not keep him long, Mademoiselle," said the count. He spokegently, but he studiously avoided her eyes.
She hesitated for a moment on the threshold; she knew not why. Her lipseven formed words, but she did not speak. What was it? Somethingoppressed her. Her gaze wandered indecisively from her father to thecount, from the count to her father.
"When you are through," she finally said, "bring your cigars into themusic-room."
"With the greatest pleasure, Mademoiselle," replied the count. "Andplay, if you so desire; our business is such that your music will be asa pleasure added.'"
Her father nodded; but he could not force another smile to his lips.The brass rings of the portiere rattled, and she was gone. But she leftbehind a peculiar tableau, a tableau such as is formed by those whostand upon ice which is about to sink and engulf them.
The two men stood perfectly still. I doubt not that each experiencedthe same sensation, that the same thought occurred to each mind, thoughit came from different avenues: love and shame. The heart of the littleclock on the mantel beat tick-tock, tick-tock; a log crackled and fellbetween the irons, sending up a shower of evanescent sparks; one of thelong windows giving out upon the veranda creaked mysteriously.
Karloff was first to break the spell. He made a gesture which waseloquent of his distaste of the situation.
"Let us terminate this as quickly as possible," he said.
"Yes, let us have done with it before I lose my courage," replied thecolonel, his voice thin and quavering. He wiped his forehead with hishandkerchief. His hand shone white and his nails darkly blue.
The count stepped over to the table, reached into the inner pocket ofhis coat, and extracted a packet. In this packet was the enormous sumof one hundred and eighty thousand dollars in notes of one thousanddenomination; that is to say, one hundred and eighty slips of paperredeemable in gold by the government which had issued them. On top ofthis packet lay the colonel's note for twenty thousand dollars.
(It is true that Karloff never accepted money from his government inpayment for his services; but it is equally true that for every pennyhe laid out he was reimbursed by Russia.)
Karloff placed the packet on the table, first taking off the note,which he carelessly tossed beside the bank-notes.
"You will observe that I have not bothered with having your notediscounted. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain; fulfil yours." Thecount thrust his trembling hands into his trousers pockets. He desiredto hide this embarrassing sign from his accomplice.
Annesley went to a small safe which stood at the left of the fireplaceand returned with a packet somewhat bulkier than the count's. Hedropped it beside the money, shudderingly, as though he had touched apoisonous viper.
"My honor," he said simply. "I had never expected to sell it so cheap."
There was a pause, during which neither man's gaze swerved fro
m theother's. There was not the slightest, not even the remotest, fear oftreachery; each man knew with whom he was dealing; yet there theystood, as if fascinated. One would have thought that the colonel wouldhave counted his money, or Karloff his plans; they did neither. Perhapsthe colonel wanted Karloff to touch the plans first, before he touchedthe money; perhaps Karloff had the same desire, only the other wayaround.
"I am simply Miss Annesly's servant."--ACT III.]
The colonel spoke.
"I believe that is all" he said quietly. The knowledge that the deedwas done and that there was no retreat gave back to him a particle ofhis former coolness and strength of mind. It had been the thought ofcommitting the crime that had unnerved him. Now that his bridges wereburned, a strange, unnatural calm settled on him.
The count evidently was not done. He moistened his lips. There was adryness in his throat.
"It is not too late" he said; "I have not yet touched them."
"We shall not indulge in moralizing, if you please," interrupted thecolonel, with savage irony. "The moment for that has gone by."
"Very well." Karloff's shoulders settled; his jaws became aggressivelyangular; some spirit of his predatory forebears touched his face hereand there, hardening it. "I wish to speak in regard to your daughter."
"Enough! Take my honor and be gone!" The colonel's voice was loud andrasping.
Karloff rested his hands on the table and inclined his body toward thecolonel.
"Listen to me," he began. "There is in every man the making and thecapacity of a great rascal. Time and opportunity alone are needed--anda motive. The other night I told you that I could not give up yourdaughter. Well, I have not given her up. She must be my wife."
"Must?" The colonel clenched his hands.
"Must. To-night I am going to prove myself a great rascal--with a greatmotive. What is Russia to me? Nothing. What is your dishonor or my own?Less than nothing. There is only one thing, and that is my love foryour daughter." He struck the table and the flame of the student-lamprose violently. "She must be mine, mine! I have tried to win her as anhonorable man tries to win the woman he loves; now she must be won byan act of rascality. Heaven nor hell shall force me to give her up.Yes, I love her; and I lower myself to your level to gain her."
"To my level! Take care; I am still a man, with a man's strength,"cried the colonel.
Karloff swept his hand across his forehead. "I have lied to myself longenough, and to you. I can see now that I have been working solelytoward one end. My country is not to be considered, neither is yours.Do you realize that you stand wholly and completely in my power?" Heran his tongue across his lips, which burned with fever.
"What do you mean?"--hoarsely.
"I mean, your daughter must become my wife, or I shall notify yourgovernment that you have attempted to betray it."
"You dishonorable wretch!" The colonel balled his fists and protrudedhis nether lip. Only the table stood between them.
"That term or another, it does not matter. The fact remains that youhave sold to me the fortification plans of your country; and though itbe in times of peace, you are none the less guilty and culpable. Yourdaughter shall be my wife."
"I had rather strangle her with these hands!"--passionately.
"Well, why should I not have her for my wife? Who loves her more thanI? I am rich; from hour to hour, from day to day, what shall I not planto make her happy? I love her with all the fire and violence of my raceand blood. I can not help it. I will not, can not, live without her!Good God, yes! I recognize the villainy of my actions. But I am madto-night."
"So I perceive." The colonel gazed wildly about the walls for a weapon.There was not even the usual ornamental dagger.
A window again stirred mysteriously. A few drops of rain plashed on theglass and zigzagged down to the sash.
"Sooner or later your daughter must know. Request her presence. Itrests with her, not with you, as to what course I must follow." Karloffwas extraordinarily pale, and his dark eyes, reflecting the dancingflames, sparkled like rubies.
He saw the birth of horror in the elder's eyes, saw it grow and grow.He saw the colonel's lips move spasmodically, but utter no sound. Whatwas it he saw over his (the count's) shoulders and beyond?Instinctively he turned, and what he saw chilled the heat of his blood.
There stood the girl, her white dress marble-white against the darkwine of the portiere, an edge of which one hand clutched convulsively.Was it Medusa's beauty or her magic that turned men into stone? Myrecollection is at fault. At any rate, so long as she remainedmotionless, neither man had the power to stir. She held herselfperfectly erect; every fiber in her young body was tense. Her beautybecame weirdly powerful, masked as it was with horror, doubt, shame,and reproach. She had heard; little or much was of no consequence. Inthe heat of their variant passions, the men's voices had risen to apitch that penetrated beyond the room.
Karloff was first to recover, and he took an involuntary step towardher; but she waved him back disdainfully.
"Do not come near me. I loathe you!" The voice was low, but every notewas strained and unmusical.
He winced. His face could not have stung or burned more hotly had shestruck him with her hand.
"Mademoiselle!"
She ignored him. "Father, what does this mean?"
"Agony!" The colonel fell back into his chair, pressing his hands overhis eyes.
"I will tell you what it means!" cried Karloff, a rage possessing him.He had made a mistake. He had misjudged both the father and the child.He could force her into his arms, but he would always carry a burden ofhate. "It means that this night you stand in the presence of adishonored parent, a man who has squandered your inheritance overgambling tables, and who, to recover these misused sums, has sold to methe principal fortification plans of his country. That is what ismeans, Mademoiselle."
She grasped the portiere for support.
"Father, is this thing true?" Her voice fell to a terror-strickenwhisper.
"Oh, it is true enough," said Karloff. "God knows that it is trueenough. But it rests with you to save him. Become my wife, and yonderfire shall swallow his dishonor--and mine. Refuse, and I shall exposehim. After all, love is a primitive state, and with it we go back tothe beginning; before it honor or dishonor is nothing. To-night thereis nothing, nothing in the world save my love for you, and the chancethat has given me the power to force you to be mine. What a fury and atempest love produces! It makes an honorable man of the knave, a rascalof the man of honor; it has toppled thrones, destroyed nations,obliterated races. ... Well, I have become a rascal. Mademoiselle, youmust become my wife." He lifted his handsome head resolutely.
Without giving him so much as a glance, she swept past him and sank onher knees at her father's side, taking his hands by the wrists andpressing them down from his face.
"Father, tell him he lies! Tell him he lies!" Ah, the entreaty, thelove, the anxiety, the terror that blended her tones!
He strove to look away.
"Father, you are all I have," she cried brokenly. "Look at me! Look atme and tell him that he lies!... You will not look at me? God havemercy on me, it is true, then!" She rose and spread her arms towardheaven to entreat God to witness her despair. "I did not think or knowthat such base things were done... That these loving hands should havehelped to encompass my father's dishonor, his degradation! ... Formoney! What is money? You knew, father, that what was mine was likewiseyours. Why did you not tell me? I should have laughed; we should havebegun all over again; I could have earned a living with my music; weshould have been honest and happy. And now!... And I drew those planswith a heart full of love and happiness! Oh, it is not that yougambled, that you have foolishly wasted a fortune; it is not these thathurt here,"--pressing her heart. "It is the knowledge that you, myfather, should let _me_ draw those horrible things. It hurts! Ah, howit hurts!" A sob choked her. She knelt again at her parent's side andflung her arms around the unhappy, wretched man. "Father, you havecommitted a crime to shield a
foolish act. I know, I know! What youhave done you did for my sake, to give me back what you thought was myown. Oh, how well I know that you had no thought of yourself; it wasall for me, and I thank God for that. But something has died here,something here in my heart. I have been so happy! ... too happy! Mypoor father!" She laid her head against his breast.
"My heart is broken! Would to God that I might die!" Annesley threw onearm across the back of the chair and turned his face to his sleeve.
Karloff, a thousand arrows of regret and shame and pity quivering inhis heart, viewed the scene moodily, doggedly. No, he could not goback; there was indeed a wall behind him: pride.
"Well, Mademoiselle?"
She turned, still on her knees.
"You say that if I do not marry you, you will ruin my father, exposehim?"
"Yes,"--thinly.
"Listen. I am a proud woman, yet will I beg you not to do this horriblething--force me into your arms. Take everything, take all that is left;you can not be so utterly base as to threaten such a wrong.See!"--extending her lovely arms, "I am on my knees to you!"
"My daughter!" cried the father.
"Do not interrupt me, father; he will relent; he is not wholly withoutpity."
"No, no! No, no!" Karloff exclaimed, turning his head aside andrepelling with his hands, as if he would stamp out the fires of pitywhich, at the sound of her voice, had burst anew in his heart. "I_will_ not give you up!"
She drew her sleeve across her eyes and stood up. All at once shewheeled upon him like a lioness protecting its young. In her wrath shewas as magnificent as the wife of--Aeneas at the funeral pyre of thatgreat captain.
"She knew! That was why she asked me all those questions; that is whyshe exacted those promises! Mrs. Chadwick knew and dared not tell me!And I trusted you as a friend, as a gentleman, as a man of honor!" Herlaughter rang out wildly. "And for these favors you bring dishonor!Shame! Shame! Your wife? Have you thought well of what you are about todo?"
"So well," he declared, "that I shall proceed to the end, to the veryend." How beautiful she was! And a mad desire urged him to spring toher, crush her in his arms, and force upon her lips a thousand madkisses!
"Have you weighed well the consequences?"
"Upon love's most delicate scales."
"Have you calculated what manner of woman I am?"--with subduedfierceness.
"To me you are the woman of all women."
"Do you think that I am a faint-hearted girl? You are making a mistake.I am a woman with a woman's mind, and a thousand years would not altermy utter contempt of you. Force me to marry you, and as there is a Godabove us to witness, every moment of suffering you now inflict upon meand mine, I shall give back a day, a long, bitter, galling day. Do youthink that it will be wise to call me countess?" Her scorn was superb.
"I am waiting for your answer. Will you be my wife, or shall I beforced to make my villainy definitive?"
"Permit me to take upon these shoulders the burden of answering thatquestion," said a voice from the window.
Warburton, dressed in his stable clothes and leggings, hatless anddrenched with rain, stepped into the room from the veranda and quicklycrossed the intervening space. Before any one of the tragic group couldrecover from the surprise caused by his unexpected appearance, he hadpicked up the packet of plans and had dropped it into the fire. Then heleaned with his back against the mantel and faced them, or ratherKarloff, of whom he was not quite sure.