CHAPTER XVI
REVELATIONS
In the hall I met together two men whom I knew well. The first wasAdams of the American Embassy in London; the second Cathcart of theBritish Embassy at Washington, now on leave. I had not seen eitherfor two years, and it was with mutual pleasure that we met. After ourpreliminary handshaking, and the inevitable drink at the American'srequest, Adams slapped me on the shoulder and said heartily:
"Well, old fellow, I congratulate you; or rather am I to congratulateyou?"
"What do you mean?" I asked in feeble embarrassment.
"All right, old chap!" he said heartily. "Your blush is enough. I see ithasn't come off yet at all events!" A man never lets well alone when heis in an awkward position. If I had only held my tongue I might not havemade a guy of myself; but as I was in doubt as to what might be theissue of my suit to Marjory, I felt additionally constrained to affectignorance of his meaning. So I floundered on:
"'Come off yet'? What on earth do you mean?" Again he slapped me on theback as he said in his chaffing way:
"My dear boy I saw you come in over the bridge. You had had a long rideI could see by your wheels; and I am bound to say that you did seem onexcellent terms with each other!" This was getting dangerous ground, soI tried to sheer off. "Oh," I said, "you mean my bike ride with MissAnita"--I was interrupted by his sudden whistle.
"Oh," he said in exact imitation of my own manner. "You mean Miss Anita!So it has come to that already! Anyhow I congratulate you heartily,whether it has come, or may come, or will come to anything else."
"I don't see," I said, with a helpless feeling of having been driveninto a corner, "that there is anything especially remarkable in a manhaving a bicycle ride with a young lady of his acquaintance."
"Keep your hair on, old man!" he said with a smile. "There is nothingremarkable about a man riding with a young lady; but there is somethingvery remarkable about any man riding with this particular young lady.Why, man alive, don't you know that there isn't a man in America, or outof it, that wouldn't give the eyes out of his head to take your place onsuch an occasion. To ride alone with Marjory Drake--"
"With whom?" I said impulsively; and having spoken could have bittenout my tongue. Adams paused; he was silent so long that I began to growuneasy. His face grew very grave, and there spread over it that lookbetween cunning and dominance which was his official expression. Then hespoke, but his words had not the same careless ring in them. There was amanifest caution and a certain indefinable sense of distance.
"Look here, Archie Hunter! Is it possible that you don't know who it isthat you were with. All right! I know of course that you are acquaintedwith her personally," for he saw I was about to protest, "the very factof your being with her and your knowing the name that she seldom usesanswer for that; and you may take it from me that the lady needs nocharacter for discretion from me. But how is it that you are on suchgood terms with her, and yet don't seem even to know her name?" Forfully a minute there was silence between us. Cathcart had as yetsaid not a word, and Adams was thinking. For myself I was in a sea ofmultitudinous concerns; whichever way I turned I was face to face withsome new difficulty. It would not do to leave these men under theimpression that there was any social irregularity in my friendship withMarjory; I was too jealous of her good name to allow such a thing to bepossible. And yet I could not explain at length how we had come to besuch good friends. Already there were so many little mysteries; right upto this very evening when she and Mrs. Jack had gone away so strangely,leaving me in the ridiculous position of a guest with no host. It wasnot easy to explain these things; it was impossible to avoid them. Inthe midst of this chaotic whirl of thoughts Adams spoke:
"I think I had better say no more, anyhow. After all, if Miss Drakechooses to keep a secret, or to make one, it is not my business to giveit, or her, away. She knows what she's doing. You will excuse me, oldfellow, won't you; but as it is manifestly a lady's wish, I think I cando best by holding my tongue."
"Any wish of that lady's," said I, and I felt that I must seem to speakgrandiloquently, "can only have my most loyal support."
There was an awkward silence which was relieved by Cathcart, who said tome:
"Come up to my room, Archie; I want to tell you something. You'll joinus, too, Sam, won't you?"
"All right, Billy," said Adams, "I'll come in a few minutes. I want togive some directions about a horse for to-morrow."
When we were in Cathcart's room, he closed the door and said to me withthe most genuine good feeling:
"I didn't like to say a word downstairs, old chap; but I could see youwere in some difficulty. Of course I know it's all right; but ought younot to know something of the lady? With any one else but Sam and myselfsuch a thing might have conveyed a false impression. Surely you can bestprotect the lady by knowing how to avoid anything that might embarrassher!" This was all good sound common sense. For a moment I weighed upthe matter against the possibility of Marjory's wishing to keep her namea secret. Looking back, however, I could see that any concealment thathad been was rather positive than negative. The original error had beenmine; she had simply allowed it to pass. The whole thing had probablybeen the passing fancy of a bright, spirited young girl; to take it tooseriously, or to make too much of it might do harm. Why, even thesemen might, were I to regard it as important, take it as some piece ofdeliberate deceit on her part. Thus convinced of the wisdom ofCathcart's proposition I spoke:
"You are quite right! and I shall be much obliged if you will--if youwill enlighten me." He bowed and smiled, and went on genially:
"The lady you called Miss Anita, you so far called quite correctly. Hername is Anita; but it is only her second Christian name. She is known tothe world as Miss Marjory Drake, of Chicago."
"Known to the world." Was this a mere phrase, or the simple expressionof a fact! I asked directly:
"How known to the world? Do you mean that is the name known amongst hercircle of acquaintances? Is--is there any cause why the great worldoutside that circle should know her at all?" He smiled and laid hishand on my shoulder in a very brotherly way as he answered:
"Yes, old fellow. There is a reason, and a good one, why the great worldshould know her. I see you are all in the dark; so I had better tell youwhat I know. Marjory Anita Drake is an heiress, a great heiress, a verygreat heiress; perhaps a long way the greatest heiress in America, orout of it. Her father, who died when she was a baby, left her a giganticfortune; and her trustees have multiplied it over and over again." Hepaused; so I said--it seeming necessary to say something:
"But being an heiress is not sufficient reason why a girl should beknown to the world."
"It is a pretty good one. Most people wouldn't want any better. But thisis not the reason in her case. She is the girl who gave the battle shipto the American Government!"
"Gave the battle ship! I don't understand!"
"It was this way. At the time the reports kept crowding in of theSpanish atrocities on the _reconcentrados_; when public feeling wasrising in the United States, this girl got all on fire to free Cuba. Tothis end she bought a battle ship that the Cramp's had built for Japan.She had the ship armed with Krupp cannon which she bought throughfriends in Italy; and went along the Eastern coast amongst the sailorsand fishermen till she had recruited a crew. Then she handed the wholething over to the Government as a spur to it to take some action. Theship is officered with men from the Naval Academy at Annapolis; andthey tell me there isn't one of the crew--from the cabin boy to thecaptain--that wouldn't die for the girl to-morrow."
"Bravo!" I said instinctively! "That's a girl for a nation to be proudof!"
"She is all that!" said Cathcart enthusiastically. "Now you canunderstand why Adams congratulated you; and why he was so surprised whenyou did not seem to know who she was." I stood for a moment thinking,and all the clouds which wrapped Marjory's purpose in mystery seemed todisperse. This, then, was why she allowed the error of her name to pass.She had not made an _incognita_; chan
ce had done this for her, andshe had simply accepted it. Doubtless, wearied with praise and withpublicity and notoriety in all its popular forms, she was glad to getaway and hide herself for a while. Fortune had thrown in her way a manwho was manifestly ignorant of her very existence; and it was a pleasureto play with him at hide-and-seek!
It was, after all, an up-to-date story of the Princess in disguise; andI was the young man, all unknowing, with whom she had played.
Here a terrible doubt assailed me. Other Princesses had playedhide-and-seek; and, having had their sport, had vanished; leavingdesolation and an empty heart behind them. Was it possible that she toowas like this; that she had been all the while playing with me; thateven whilst she was being most gracious, she was taking steps tohide even her whereabouts from me? Here was I, who had even proposedmarriage; and yet who did not even know when or where I should see heragain--if indeed I should ever see her again at all. I could not believeit. I had looked into her eyes, and had seen the truth. Here was nowanton playing at bowls with men's hearts. My life upon her faith!
I seemed to have lost myself in a sort of trance. I was recalled from itby Cathcart, who seeing me in a reverie had gone over to the fireplaceand stood with his back to me, filling his pipe at the mantel-piece:
"I think I hear Adams coming. Pardon me, old fellow, but though I amsure he knows I have told you about Miss Drake, and though he probablymade an excuse for delay so that I might have an opportunity to do so,he wants to appear not to enter on the subject. He is _diplomat_ allover. Remember he is of the U. S. Embassy; and Miss Drake, as anAmerican citizen, is theoretically under his care in this foreigncountry. Let us be talking of something else when he comes in!" Sam camealong the passage softly whistling a bar of "Yankee Doodle." Cathcartnodded to me and whispered:
"I told you so! He takes good care that he may not surprise us." When hecame in we were talking of the prospects of the Autumn fishing on theDee.
When we left Cathcart's room, after a cigar, I, being somewhat tiredwith my long ride, went at once to my room. Adams came with me as far asthe door.
I was just getting into bed when I heard a slight tap at the door. Iunlocked it and found Adams without. He raised a warning hand, and saidin a whisper:
"May I come in? I want to say something very privately." More than evermystified--everything seemed a mystery now--I opened the door. He camein and I closed it softly and locked it.