The Crimson Gardenia and Other Tales of Adventure Part 3

"Of course, silly! Some one must bring her."

Van Dam fell silent, speculating upon this last remark. After a moment he said, "You're sure Alfred won't return?"

"Who knows? We must run some hazards. The key will be under the step, I think. Come!"

They gained ingress to the next inclosure through a cedar hedge. Then, as they neared the back door, a distant commotion sounded from the stable-yard, warning them that the Spider's friends had stumbled upon him. But the girl's ready fingers found the key where it was hidden, and an instant later they were in a spotless creole kitchen ornamented with s.h.i.+ning pots and pans. A cat rose from a sleepy window-ledge, arched its back, and stretched.

With a warning gesture Van Dam's guide bade him wait, then disappeared, returning in a moment.

"It is as I thought--the house is empty." She beckoned him, and he followed her past a pantry, down a hall, and into a study furnished with a considerable degree of elegance. Drawn blinds shut out the glaring heat; it was dim and cool and restful.

The maiden heaved a sigh of relief and steadied herself against one of the ma.s.sive mahogany chairs, showing by her att.i.tude that the recent strain had told upon her.

"Heaven be praised! You are safe here, for a time at least," she managed to say.

"Nice, comfy place, this," remarked Van Dam, with an appreciative glance at the surroundings. "We can sit here and--and get acquainted--eh?"

"Hm-m! I think I have learned to know you quite well in the past half-hour," she laughed.

"True! But we've had very little chance to talk calmly and rationally; now, have we? Of course you're accustomed to such things, perhaps; but it has been a trifle strenuous for a person of my easy ways. I don't mind telling you that I'm positively winded. Let's rest a bit before you leave."

But the girl shook her head at his suggestion. "You forget how she has waited and longed for this hour. She has been very ill; nothing seemed to interest her until you promised to come on the last day of the _fiesta_. Since then she has been like another woman. She is counting the moments now until she feels your arms about her."

Roly stirred uncomfortably, for here was something he had not counted upon. One woman at a time was ample; he had no desire to hold another to his breast. He was shocked, too, that this girl should suggest such a thing after what had pa.s.sed between them. It was unseemly. He felt tempted to confess his deception and to demand an explanation of the whole affair, but some sense of shame held him back. Besides, his companion was undoubtedly sincere, and he could not bring himself to cause her dismay.

Another reason that urged him to hold his tongue and to let the adventure run its course was that as yet he had not seen her face. The desire to do so was becoming insufferable. He was about to claim the privilege when she changed the current of his thoughts.

"You must not be shocked if she does not recognize you. She has been ill, very ill, since you--proved so great a--trial to her. You understand?"

"Perfectly!" he said, thankful that she could not detect his signs of bewilderment.

"Very well, then. You will make free of your cousin Alfred's hospitality while I am gone." She laughed nervously. "La! There is irony for you."

"Suppose he should return in the mean time?"

She shrugged. "You seem quite capable of caring for yourself, m'sieu'. I should not wish to be in his shoes, that is all. But there is little danger. And now I must leave you."

"Just a moment," he said, taking her two hands in his. "You have seen my face. Don't you think I wish to see yours?"

Her breath caught at the tone of his voice. "Not yet. Please! When I return--when you have held her in your arms and made your peace. Then, perhaps, if you wish--but not until then." She pressed his fingers meaningly, and he thrilled.

"You haven't spoken my name, either," said he. "Won't you tell me that you--like me?"

"I--like you, Cousin Emile," said she; then, in a voice that told him she was blus.h.i.+ng rosily, "and what name do you give to me?"

Roly's wits came to his rescue barely in time; with an air of deepest tenderness, that was not all a.s.sumed, he said: "I haven't dared acknowledge the name my heart has given you, even to myself. It is--"

"No, no!" she laughed, tremulously. "Call me Madelon."

"Madelon, Desire of my Dreams." He raised her hand to his lips. "Until you give me leave to lift your mask I kiss these dimpled fingers."

It was plain that his boldness did not altogether displease her, for she paused reluctantly upon the threshold. Her eyes were s.h.i.+ning, although her mask smiled at him vacuously as she said:

"You are a most unusual young man. You awaken something strange within me. I cannot despise you as I should, for you have taken away my reason.

That is disturbing, is it not? Now, then, avail yourself of the hospitality of the man who has robbed you. I shall return as fast as ever my feet will bring me." She waved him a kiss and was gone.

He heard the front door close. Then he endeavored to piece out some theory as to the cause of this situation, but the more he considered the clues in his possession the more bewildered he became. One thing only stood out with alarming certainty--his cousin Madelon had gone to fetch a woman who loved him. So long as the adventure had concerned him only with the masked girl herself he had been eager to continue it. Now that it threatened to involve a second woman, he decided it was time to go.

She would return and find him gone. It would be a disappointment, perhaps, but not so great as his own at parting from her and leaving this mystery unsolved. He was somewhat proud of his exploits thus far, for in an hour's time he had met and bested two of his enemies and had changed a maiden's heart. No mean accomplishment for an idler! But why did she feel that she ought to despise him? Why had she risked so much for a man beloved by another? Why, under these circ.u.mstances, had she welcomed his advances and promised him a sight of her face--a kiss, perhaps? Above all, who were the Black Wolf, the Spider, and Cousin Alfred? He gave up puzzling over the affair and determined to get out of this stranger's house without delay.

It was evident that Cousin Alfred was a person of substance, for the study was furnished in rich old Santo Domingo mahogany, blood-red and flaming where the light struck it; the books were bound in uniform levant; the paintings were valuable; the bric-a-brac in irreproachable taste. An inlaid ivory humidor was filled with coronas at exactly the right degree of moisture. He removed the ground-gla.s.s stopper from an etched decanter and sniffed of the contents. The aroma brought a smile to his face, and, reflecting that the owner had robbed him, he took time to pour out a drink and to light a fragrant cigar. All gentlemanly housebreakers did the like, he reflected. Then he yielded to a whimsical notion and fumbled in his pocket, thinking to leave the price of his refreshments on the tray.

Midway in this purpose he paused. The breath hung in his throat, the hair at the back of his neck seemed to rise. He had heard no one enter the house, there had been no faintest stir since Madelon had left, he detected no sound whatever, and yet he was positive that eyes were boring into his back--that he was no longer alone. It was ridiculous, and yet--A gentle cough sounded behind him!

With a swift gesture he settled his mask back in place and, whirling around, beheld the most evil-appearing human being he had ever seen. The man was little and stooped and undersized, all but his head, which was unusually large. His face was fleshless and covered with a tight skin of unusual pallor. He was bowing at Van Dam, but his smile was mocking and his eyes glittered malignantly.

"Good day, Monsieur Black Wolf," said the stranger, harshly. "Making yourself at home with my wines, as usual, eh?"

Van Dam felt the cold sweat leap out upon his body; he cursed the deliberation that had betrayed him. With an a.s.sumption of indifference he mumbled something and waved his cigar carelessly.

"How often must I tell you to come here only at night?" snarled the old man. "Already the police are suspicious. Fortunately, it is carnival day--I dare say no one suspected you in that disguise."

The speaker deposited his hat upon the table with a sour glance; then, when his caller said nothing, he snapped:

"Well, well? What is it?"

Van Dam was at a loss for words; he was panic-stricken; but swift upon his consternation came a reckless determination to take advantage of the old gentleman's first mistake and to try to brazen the matter through.

There was nothing to be gained by explanation; no one would believe his story. He spoke out boldly.

"The Wolf is hurt, and the Spider, I think, has his neck very neatly broken. I came to tell you that your cousin Emile is in the city."

The effect of these words was amazing, electric. Cousin Alfred turned a corpselike green; he froze in his tracks; his eyes rolled in their sockets.

"Emile! Here!" His teeth chattered, he plucked at his collar as if he were strangling. "Then--you? Who are you?"

Roly shrugged. "I am one of the others. I was sent to warn you." He recognized now the character of the old fellow's emotion. It was cowardice, terror, but of such utter foulness as to be disgusting.

Evidently this Emile, whoever he was, had a reputation. Roly multiplied his host's discomfiture by adding:

"Yes; he struck down the Wolf in the street; then dropped the Spider on his head from the top of a staircase."

"G.o.d help us!" stammered Cousin Alfred. "He will take me next! Oh, he has threatened me--" He cast a frightened glance over his shoulder, as if expecting the sanguinary Emile to appear at any moment. Then he began to whine: "I know him, I know him. And the servants gone! I--I am an old man; he would like nothing better than to find me alone. But how--how dared he come? Wait! It was Felice. Ho! I'll wager she sent for him; and he would not refuse, the scoundrel!" The speaker's lips were wet and loose, his gaze was very evil as he mumbled along.

Felice must be the other girl, the one for whom Madelon had gone, Roly decided. In view of Alfred's evident hatred, it did not seem right to allow Madelon to bring the other girl without some warning. One glance at those working features convinced the young man that such a meeting would be dangerous; and yet he was quite at a loss how to prevent it.

His host was running on.

"It was only yesterday that she appealed to me, she and Madelon, and all the time they knew he was coming." He ground his teeth. "I have been a fool to spare them so long."