The Quest of the Sacred Slipper
CHAPTER VIII
THE VIOLET EYES AGAIN
At four o'clock in the afternoon I had heard nothing further fromBristol, but I did not doubt that he would advise me of hisarrangements in good time. I sought by hard work to forget for atime the extraordinary business of the stolen slipper; but itpersistently intruded upon my mind. Particularly, my thoughtsturned to the night of Professor Deeping's murder, and to thebewitchingly pretty woman who had warned me of the impending tragedy.She had bound me to secrecy--a secrecy which had proved irksome,for it had since appeared to me that she must have been anaccomplice of Hassan of Aleppo. At the time I had been at a lossto define her peculiar accent, now it seemed evidently enough tohave been Oriental.
I threw down my pen in despair, for work was impossible, wentdownstairs, and walked out under the arch into Fleet Street. Quitemechanically I turned to the left, and, still engaged with idleconjectures, strolled along westward.
Passing the entrance to one of the big hotels, I was abruptlyrecalled to the realities--by a woman's voice.
"Wait for me here," came musically to my ears.
I stopped, and turned. A woman who had just quitted a taxi-cab wasentering the hotel. The day was hot and thunderously oppressive,and this woman with the musical voice wore a delicate costume offlimsiest white. A few steps upward she paused and glanced back.I had a view of a Greek profile, and for one magnetic instant lookedinto eyes of the deepest and most wonderful violet.
Then, shaking off inaction, I ran up the steps and overtook thelady in white as a porter swung open the door to admit her. Weentered together.
"Madame," I said in a low tone, "I must detain you for a moment.There is something I have to ask."
She turned, exhibiting the most perfect composure, lowered herlashes and raised them again, the gaze of the violet eyes sweepingme from head to foot with a sort of frigid scorn.
"I fear you have made a mistake, sir. We have never met before!"
Her voice betrayed no trace of any foreign accent!
"But," I began--and paused.
I felt myself flush; for this encounter in the foyer of an hotel,with many curious onlookers, was like to prove embarrassing if mybeautiful acquaintance persisted in her attitude. I fully realizedwhat construction would be put upon my presence there, and foresawthat forcible and ignominious ejection must be my lot if I failedto establish my right to address her.
She turned away, and crossed in the direction of the staircase.A sunbeam sought out a lock of hair that strayed across her brow,and kissed it to a sudden glow like that which lurks in the heartof a blush rose.
That wonderful sheen, which I had never met with elsewhere innature, but which no artifice could lend, served to remove my lastfrail doubt which had survived the evidence of the violet eyes. Ihad been deceived by no strange resemblance; this was indeed thewoman who had been the harbinger of Professor Deeping's death. Inthree strides I was beside her again. Curious glances were setupon me, and I saw a servant evidently contemplating approach; butI ignored all save my own fixed purpose.
"You must listen to what I have to say!" I whispered. "If youdecline, I shall have no alternative but to call in the detectivewho holds a warrant for your arrest!"
She stood quite still, watching me coolly. "I suppose you wouldwish to avoid a scene?" I added.
"You have already made me the object of much undesirable attention,"she replied scornfully. "I do not need your assurance that youwould disgrace me utterly! You are talking nonsense, as you mustbe aware--unless you are insane. But if your object be to forceyour acquaintance upon me, your methods are novel, and, under thecircumstances, effective. Come, sir, you may talk to me--forthree minutes!"
The musical voice had lost nothing of its imperiousness, but forone instant the lips parted, affording a fleeting glimpse of pearlbeyond the coral.
Her sudden change of front was bewildering. Now, she entered thelift and I followed her. As we ascended side by side I found itimpossible to believe that this dainty white figure was that of anassociate of the Hashishin, that of a creature of the terribleHassan of Aleppo. Yet that she was the same girl who, a few daysafter my return from the East, had shown herself conversant withthe plans of the murderous fanatics was beyond doubt. Her accenton that occasion clearly had been assumed, with what object I couldnot imagine. Then, as we quitted the lift and entered a cosylounge, my companion seated herself upon a Chesterfield, signing tome to sit beside her.
As I did so she lay back smiling, and regarding me from beneath herblack lashes. Thus, half veiled, her great violet eyes were mostwonderful.
"Now, sir," she said softly, "explain yourself."
"Then you persist in pretending that we have not met before?"
"There is no occasion for pretence," she replied lightly; and Ifound myself comparing her voice with her figure, her figure withher face, and vainly endeavouring to compute her age. Frankly,she was bewildering--this lovely girl who seemed so wholly a womanof the world.
"This fencing is useless."
"It is quite useless! Come, I know New York, London, and I knowParis, Vienna, Budapest. Therefore I know mankind! You thought Iwas pretty, I suppose? I may be; others have thought so. And youthought you would like to make my acquaintance without troublingabout the usual formalities? You adopted a singularly brutalmethod of achieving your object, but I love such insolence in a man.Therefore I forgave you. What have you to say to me?"
I perceive that I had to deal with a bold adventuress, with aconsummate actress, who, finding herself in a dangerous situation,had adopted this daring line of defence, and now by her personalcharm sought to lure me from my purpose.
But with the scimitar of Hassan of Aleppo stretched over me, withthe dangers of the night before me, I was in no mood for a veiledduel of words, for an interchange of glances in thrust and parry,however delightful such warfare might have been with so pretty anadversary.
For a long time I looked sternly into her eyes; but their violetmystery defied, whilst her red-lipped smile taunted me.
"Unfortunately," I said, with slow emphasis, "you are protected bymy promise, made on the occasion of our previous meeting. Butmurder has been done, so that honour scarcely demands that I respectmy promise further--"
She raised her eyebrows slightly.
"Surely that depends upon the quality of the honour!" she said.
"I believe you to be a member of a murderous organization, andunless you can convince me that I am wrong, I shall act accordingly."
At that she leaned toward me, laying her hand on my arm.
"Please do not be so cruel," she whispered, "as to drag me into amatter with which truly I have no concern. Believe me, you areutterly mistaken. Wait one moment, and I will prove it."
She rose, and before I could make move to detain her, quitted theroom; but the door scarcely had closed ere I was afoot. Thecorridor beyond was empty. I ran on. The lift had just descended.A dark man whom I recognized stood near the closed gate.
"Quick!" I said, "I am Cavanagh of the Report! Did you see a ladyenter the lift?"
"I did, Mr. Cavanagh," answered the hotel detective; for this was he.
In such a giant inn as this I knew full well that one could come andgo almost with impunity, though one had no right to the hospitalityof the establishment; and it was with a premonition respecting whathis answer would be, that I asked the man--
"Is she staying here?"
"She is not. I have never seen her before!"
The girl with the violet eyes had escaped, taking all her secretswith her!