The Mask Part 30

Instantly the valet jumped up and a.s.sumed once more his deferential demeanor. The gambler hurriedly shut the bureau drawers and put on the blue spectacles.

The door opened and Helen entered.

Alert as the Frenchman was, he was not quick enough to quite conceal from the wife that his present obsequious manner had been suddenly a.s.sumed for her benefit directly she had entered the room. She had overheard voices, as she reached the landing, and the abrupt manner in which these sounds had ceased was not entirely natural. It had also seemed to her that the valet's tone had had a ring of familiarity about it which she had never known it to have before. Could it be possible that they were discussing matters which were to be kept from her? If so, her husband already had secrets in which not she but his valet shared. She recalled Keralio's cynical smile, as he had whispered: "Husbands only tell their wives half." Perhaps he had spoken the truth. Perhaps at this very moment she was degraded, insulted in her womanhood by a man who was secretly unloyal to her. The very thought went through her like a knife-thrust. All her life, every hour she had devoted to her husband. Even now she did not like to even harbor a shade of distrust, but his strange behavior since his return, this earnest conversation behind closed doors with a menial she despised and distrusted--all this could not but add to her anxiety. Calmly, she asked:

"Have you finished with Francois, dear? We need him downstairs."

The valet himself answered the question:

"_Oui_, madame. I was just coming."

Bowing politely, he turned on his heel, and, with a significant glance at Handsome, which his mistress did not notice, he left the room.

Helen glanced at the bed, which was undisturbed. Surprised, she exclaimed:

"Why, I thought you were going to lie down!"

He shook his head. s.h.i.+fting uneasily on his feet, and, without looking up, he answered:

"No--I can't sleep. I'm too nervous. I'll sleep to-night."

Advancing farther into the room she went up him and put her arm affectionately round him. Sympathetically she said:

"You'll feel better in a few days, dear. Just rest and take things easy. I won't hear of your going to the office for a week at least.

All the business you and Mr. Parker have you can transact here. By the way, dear, you haven't even mentioned the most important thing of all--have you brought back the diamonds?"

Instead of replying at once to her question, he turned quickly and pulled down the blind.

"You don't mind, do you?" he said. "The light hurts my eyes."

"Of course not," she replied. Sitting down near him she went on: "Tell me--have you got the diamonds? How beautiful they must be! How I should love to see them!"

When finally he turned and confronted her she could see his face only indistinctly, as the drawing of the blind had left the room almost in darkness. His voice was strained and tense as he replied huskily:

"I have not got the diamonds!"

Helen almost started from her seat.

"You have not got them!" she exclaimed. "Where are they, Ken?"

"They are lost!"

"Lost?" she echoed, stupefied.

"Yes--lost."

"Oh, how terrible!" she faltered.

This, then, was the secret of his strange manner, his depression and nervousness. He had lost the diamonds. He had returned home to announce to the eagerly awaiting stockholders that over a million dollars' worth of property had suddenly been swept away. His feeling of personal responsibility must have been awful. No wonder he was not himself. It was enough to unnerve any man. Of course he was not to blame, but the world is so merciless. He would have to bear the censure, even when he was perfectly innocent. How she regretted that he had ever undertaken so heavy a responsibility. Timidly, not wis.h.i.+ng to embarra.s.s or annoy him, she said:

"How did it happen, dear?"

For a moment he made no answer, but just sat and stared at her. What little light entered between the shade and the window frame fell full on her face, lighting up the fine profile, the delicately chiseled mouth, throwing off golden glints from her artistically arranged hair.

From her face his eyes wandered greedily down to her snow-white neck, her slender, graceful figure, her beautifully molded arms. Certainly, he mused to himself, his brother was an epicure in love. This woman was dainty enough to tempt a saint.

"How did it happen?" she asked again.

"It was in the first rush from the burning s.h.i.+p," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "I was asleep when the fire broke out. It happened at two o'clock in the morning. The diamonds were in the belt which each night I unfastened and put under my pillow. It was more comfortable to do that than to wear it. When the first alarm came I forgot everything--except my own safety. I rushed pell-mell on deck. It was a nasty night. We didn't know where we were, or how grave the situation was. Outside the wind was howling furiously, the siren was blowing dismally, the panic-stricken pa.s.sengers and sailors were fighting like wildcats. I lost my head along with the rest. I had reached the lifeboat when suddenly I remembered the belt. I felt at my waist. It was not there.

I remembered I had left it under the pillow. I was horror-stricken.

Great beads of perspiration broke from every pore. The people were fighting to get into the boat; I fought to get out and back to my stateroom. Suddenly someone knocked me on the head. I lost consciousness. When I came to we were miles away from the wreck, drifting on the ocean in an open boat, and the _Abyssinia_ was nowhere to be seen."

Helen made an exclamation of sympathy.

"Poor soul--how terrible you must have felt! Thank G.o.d, you escaped with your life! We ought to feel grateful for that. Suppose I had been compelled to tell Mary that you were drowned. It would have killed her--you know that. Do you remember what you told her when you went away?"

He stared at her, not understanding.

"Told who?" he said cautiously.

"Mary."

"Oh, yes--Mary--of course--you mean your sister----"

Helen looked at him in amazement, then in alarm. Could the wreck have affected his mind? Laughingly she retorted:

"Ray? Of course not. How foolish you are, Kenneth. Don't you remember that your old nurse came to see you before you sailed?"

He nodded and coughed uneasily, moving restlessly about in his chair, as if to hide his embarra.s.sment. These questions were decidedly unpleasant. Inwardly he wished Francois was present to help him out.

"Mary? Oh, yes, I remember--of course--of course----"

The look of anxiety in the young woman's face deepened. His memory failed him completely. Changing the subject she said quickly:

"There's something else I wish to mention to you, dear. It is about Signor Keralio----"

He started quickly to his feet. How came his brother's wife to know the name of the arch-plotter, the man who had sentenced her own husband to death? Was it possible that she knew more? Was she aware of his real ident.i.ty? Was her present amiability of manner merely simulated?

Was she waiting her time before calling in the police and exposing him as an impostor?

"Keralio?" he echoed hoa.r.s.ely. "What about Keralio?" Making a step forward he exclaimed savagely: "Has he squealed? Is the game up? He's to blame, not I!"

Impulsively, instinctively, Helen sprang from her chair and fell back with a startled exclamation. Now thoroughly alarmed, more than ever convinced that the s.h.i.+pwreck had affected his brain, her one solicitude was to keep him quiet until she could get a doctor. Soothingly she said:

"Of course, dear; of course. We won't speak of Signor Keralio now.

He's not worth discussing anyhow."

He watched her closely for a moment, as if trying to see if she were deceiving him, but her face was frank and serene. Suddenly, taking hold of her hand, which she abandoned willingly enough in his, he murmured:

"You mustn't mind what I say. I'll soon be all right. I'm a bit mixed up. My mind's been queer ever since that awful night."

"Perhaps you would prefer if we had no one to dinner. I could easily give some excuse and put them all off."