XV

  BLACKMAIL

  She came in swiftly, stirring the sultry stillness of the studio witha little breeze from her gown, faintly fragrant.

  "Garry, dear!--" She gave him both her hands and looked at him; and hesaw the pink tint of excitement in her cheeks and her dark eyesbrilliant.

  "Thessa, this is charming of you----"

  "No! I came----" She cast a swift glance around her, beheld Westmore,gave him one hand as he came forward.

  "How do you do?" she said, almost breathlessly, plainly controllingsome inward excitement.

  But Westmore retained her hand and laid the other over it.

  "You _said_ you'd come to the Ritz----"

  "I'm sorry.... I have been--bothered--with matters--affairs----"

  "You are bothered now," he said. "If you have something to say toGarry, I'll go about my business.... Only I'm sorry it's not yourbusiness, too."

  He released her hand and reached for the door-knob: her dark eyes wereresting on him with a strained, intent expression. On impulse shethrust out her arm and closed the door, which he had begun to open.

  "Please--Mr. Westmore.... I do want to see you. I'm trying to thinkclearly--" She turned and looked at Barres.

  "Is it serious?" he said in a low voice.

  "I--suppose so.... Garry, I wish to--to come here ... and stay."

  "What!"

  She nodded.

  "Is it all right?"

  "All right," he replied pleasantly, bewildered and almost inclined tolaugh.

  She said in a low, tense voice.

  "I'm really in trouble, Garry. I told you once that the word was notin my vocabulary.... I've had to include it."

  "I'm so sorry! Tell me all about----"

  He checked himself: she turned to Westmore--a deeper flush came intoher cheeks--then she said gravely:

  "I scarcely know Mr. Westmore, but if he is like you, Garry--yoursort--perhaps he----"

  "He'd do anything for you, Thessa, if you'll let him. Have youconfidence in me?"

  "You know I have."

  "Then you can have the same confidence in Jim. I suggest it because Ihave a hazy idea what your trouble is. And if you came to ask advice,then I think that you'll get double value if you include Jim Westmorein your confidence."

  She stood silent and with heightened colour for a moment, then herexpression became humorous, and, partly turning, she put out hergloved hand behind her and took hold of Westmore's sleeve. It was atonce an appeal and an impulsive admission of her confidence in thisyoung man whom she had liked from the beginning, and who must betrustworthy because he was the friend of Garret Barres.

  "I'm scared half to death," she remarked, without a quaver in hervoice, but her smile had now become forced, and a quick, uneven littlesigh escaped her as she passed her arms through Barres' andWestmore's, and, moving across the carpet between them, sufferedherself to be installed among the Chinese cushions upon the lounge bythe open window.

  In her distractingly pretty summer hat and gown, and with her whitegloves and gold-mesh purse in her lap--her fresh, engaging face anddaintily rounded figure--Thessalie Dunois seemed no more mature, nomore experienced in worldly wisdom, than the charming young girls onepasses on Fifth Avenue on a golden morning in early spring.

  But Westmore, looking into her dark eyes, divined, perhaps, somethingless inexperienced, less happy in their lovely, haunted depths. And,troubled by he knew not what, he waited in silence for her to speak.

  Barres said to her:

  "You are being annoyed, Thessa, dear. I gather that much from what hasalready happened. Can Jim and I do anything?"

  "I don't know.... It's come to a point where I--I'm afraid--to bealone."

  Her gaze fell; she sat brooding for a few moments, then, with a quickintake of breath:

  "It humiliates me to come to you. Would you believe that of me, Garry,that it has come to a point where I am actually afraid to be alone? Ithought I had plenty of what the world calls courage."

  "You have!"

  "I _had_. I don't know what's become of it--what has happened tome.... I don't want to tell you more than I have to----"

  "Tell us as much as you think necessary," said Barres, watching her.

  "Thank you.... Well, then, some years ago I earned the enmity of aman. And, through him, a European Government blacklisted me. It was aterrible thing. I did not fully appreciate what it meant at the time."She turned to Westmore in her pretty, impulsive way: "This EuropeanGovernment, of which I speak, believes me to be the agent of anotherforeign government--believes that I betrayed its interests. This manwhom I offended, to punish me and to cover his own treachery,furnished evidence which would have convicted me of treachery andespionage."

  The excited colour began to dye her cheeks again; she stretched outone arm in appeal to Westmore:

  "Please believe me! I am no spy. I never was. I was too young, toostupid, too innocent in such matters to know what this man wasabout--that he had very cleverly implicated me in this abhorrentmatter. Do you believe me, Mr. Westmore?"

  "Of course I do!" he said with a fervour not, perhaps, necessary. "Ifyou'll be kind enough to point out that gentleman----"

  "Wait, Jim," interposed Barres, nodding to Thessalie to proceed.

  She had been looking at Westmore, apparently much interested in hisardour, but she came to herself when Barres interrupted, and satsilent again as though searching her mind concerning what further shemight say. Slowly the forced smile curved her lips again. She said:

  "I don't know just what that enraged European Government might havedone to me had I been arrested, because I ran away ... and camehere.... But the man whom I offended discovered where I was and neverfor a day even have his agents ceased to watch me, annoy me----"

  There was a quick break in her voice; she set her lips in silenceuntil the moment's emotion had passed, then, turning to Westmore withwinning dignity: "I am a dancer and singer--an entertainer of sorts,by profession. I----"

  "Tell Westmore a little more, Thessa," said Barres.

  "If you think it necessary."

  "I'll tell him. Miss Dunois was the most celebrated entertainer inEurope when this happened. Since she came here the man she hasmentioned has, somehow, managed to interfere and spoil every businessarrangement which she has attempted." He looked at Thessa. "I don'tknow whether, if Thessalie had cared to use the name under which shewas known all over Europe----"

  "I didn't dare, Garry. I thought that, if some manager would only giveme a chance I could make a new name for myself. But wherever I went Iwas dogged, and every arrangement was spoiled.... I had my jewels....You remember some of them, Garry. I gave those away--I think I toldyou why. _But_ I had other jewels--unset diamonds given to my motherby Prince Haledine. Well, I sold them and invested the money.... Andmy income is all I have--quite a tiny income, Mr. Westmore, butenough. Only I could have done very well here, I think, if I had notbeen interfered with."

  "Thessa," said Barres, "why not tell us both a little more? We'redevoted to you."

  The girl lifted her dark eyes, and unconsciously they were turned toWestmore. And in that young man's vigorous, virile personality perhapsshe recognised something refreshing, subtlely compelling, for, stilllooking at him, she began to speak quite naturally of things whichhad long been locked within her lonely heart:

  "I was scarcely more than a child when General Count Klingenkampfkilled my father. The Grand Duke Cyril hushed it up.

  "I had several thousand roubles. I had--trouble with the GrandDuke.... He annoyed me ... as some men annoy a woman.... And when Iput him in his place he insulted the memory of my mother because shewas a Georgian.... I slapped his face with a whip.... And then I hadto run away."

  She drew a quick, uneven breath, smiling at Westmore from whose intentgaze her own dark eyes never wandered.

  "My father had been a French officer before he took service inRussia," she said. "I was educated in Alsace and then in England. Thenmy father sent for me and I ret
urned to St. Peters--I mean Petrograd.And because I loved dancing my father obtained permission for me tostudy at the Imperial school. Also, I had it in me to sing, and I hadexcellent instruction.

  "And because I did such things in my own way, sometimes my fatherpermitted me to entertain at the gay gatherings patronised by theGrand Duke Cyril."

  She smiled in reminiscence, and her gaze became remote for a moment.Then, coming back, she lifted her eyes once more to Westmore's:

  "I ran away from Cyril and went to Constantinople, where Von-der-GoltzPasha and others whom I had met at the Grand Duke's parties, whenlittle more than a child, were stationed. I entertained at the GermanEmbassy, and at the Yildiz Palace.... I was successful. And my successbrought me opportunities--of the wrong kind. Do you understand?"

  Westmore nodded.

  "So," she continued, with a slight movement of disdain, "I didn'tquite see how I was to get to Paris all alone and begin a seriouscareer. And one evening I entertained at the German Embassy--tell me,do you know Constantinople?"

  "No."

  "Well, it is nothing except a vast mass of gossip and intrigue. Onebreakfasts on rumours, lunches on secrets, and dines on scandals. Andmy maid told me enough that day to make certain matters quite clear tome.

  "And so I entertained at the Embassy.... Afterward it was no surprisewhen his Excellency whispered to me that an honest career was assuredme if I chose, and that I might be honestly launched in Paris withoutpaying the price which I would not pay.

  "Later I was not surprised, either, when Ferez Bey, a friend of myfather, and a man I had known since childhood, presented meto--to----" She glanced at Barres; he nodded; she concluded to namethe man: "--the Count d'Eblis, a Senator of France, and owner of thenewspaper called _Le Mot d'Ordre_."

  After a silence she stole another glance at Barres; a smile hovered onher lips. He, also, smiled; for he, too, was thinking of that moonlitway they travelled together on a night in June so long ago.

  Her glance asked:

  "Is it necessary to tell Mr. Westmore this?"

  He shook his head very slightly.

  "Well," she went on, her eyes reverting again to Westmore, "the Countd'Eblis, it appeared, had fallen in love with me at first sight.... Inthe beginning he misunderstood me.... When he realised that I wouldendure no nonsense from any man he proved to be sufficientlyinfatuated with me to offer me marriage."

  She shrugged:

  "At that age one man resembled another to me. Marriage was aconvention, a desirable business arrangement. The Count was in aposition to launch me into a career. Careers begin in Paris. And Iknew enough to realise that a girl has to pay in one way or anotherfor such an opportunity. So I said that I would marry him if I came tocare enough for him. Which merely meant that if he were ordinarilypolite and considerate and companionable I would ultimately become hiswife.

  "That was the arrangement. And it caused much trouble. Because I wasa--" she smiled at Barres, "--a success from the first moment. Andd'Eblis immediately began to be abominably jealous and unreasonable.Again and again he broke his promise and tried to interfere with mycareer. He annoyed me constantly by coming to my hotel at inopportunemoments; he made silly scenes if I ventured to have any friends or ifI spoke twice to the same man; he distrusted me--he and Ferez Bey, whohad taken service with him. Together they humiliated me, made my lifemiserable by their distrust.

  "I warned d'Eblis that his absurd jealousy and unkindness would notadvance him in my interest. And for a while he seemed to becomemore reasonable. In fact, he apparently became sane again, and I hadeven consented to our betrothal, when, by accident, I discoveredthat he and Ferez were having me followed everywhere I went. Andthat very night was to have been a gay one--a party in honour of ourbetrothal--the night I discovered what he and Ferez had been doingto me.

  "I was so hurt, so incensed, that--" She cast an involuntary glance atBarres; he made a slight movement of negation, and she concluded hersentence calmly: "--I quarrelled with d'Eblis.... There was a verydreadful scene. And it transpired that he had sold a preponderatinginterest in _Le Mot d'Ordre_ to Ferez Bey, who was operating the paperin German interests through orders directly from Berlin. And d'Eblisthought I knew this and that I meant to threaten him, perhapsblackmail him, to shield some mythical lover with whom, he declared, Ihad become involved, and who was betraying him to the BritishAmbassador."

  She drew a deep, long breath:

  "Is it necessary for me to say that there was not a particle of truthin his hysterical accusations?--that I was utterly astounded? But myamazement became anger and then sheer terror when I learned from hisown lips that he had cunningly involved me in his transactions withFerez and with Berlin. So cunningly, so cleverly, so seriously had hemanaged to compromise me as a German agent that he had a mass ofevidence against me sufficient to have had me court-martialled andshot had it been in time of war.

  "To me the situation seemed hopeless. I never would be believed by theFrench Government. Horror of arrest overwhelmed me. In a panic I tookmy unset jewels and fled to Belgium. And then I came here."

  She paused, trembling a little at the memory of it all. Then:

  "The agents of d'Eblis and Ferez discovered me and have given me nopeace. I do not appeal to the police because that would stir up secretagents of the French Government. But it has come now to a placewhere--where I don't know what to do.... And so--being afraid atlast--I am here to--to ask--advice----"

  She waited to control her voice, then opened her gold-mesh bag anddrew from it a letter.

  "Three weeks ago I received this," she said. "I ignored it. Two weeksago, as I opened the door of my room to go out, a shot was fired atme, and I heard somebody running down stairs.... I was badly scared.But I went out and did my shopping, and then I went to the writingroom of a hotel and wrote to Garry.... Somebody watching me must haveseen me write it, because an attempt was made to steal the letter. Aman wearing a handkerchief over his face tried to snatch it out of thehands of Dulcie Soane. But he got only half of the letter.

  "And when I got home that same evening I found that my room had beenransacked.... That was why I did not go to meet you at the Ritz; I wastoo upset. Besides, I was busy moving my quarters.... But it was nouse. Last night I was awakened by hearing somebody working at the lockof my bedroom. And I sat up till morning with a pistol in my hand....And--I don't think I had better live entirely alone--until it issafer. Do you, Garry?"

  "I should think not!" said Westmore, turning red with anger.

  "Did you wish us to see that letter?" asked Barres.

  She handed it to him. It was typewritten; and he read it aloud,leisurely and very distinctly, pausing now and then to give fullweight to some particularly significant and sinister sentence:

  "MADEMOISELLE:

  "For two years and more it has been repeatedly intimated to you that your presence in America is not desirable to certain people, except under certain conditions, which conditions you refuse to consider.

  "You have impudently ignored these intimations.

  "Now, you are beginning to meddle. Therefore, this warning is sent to you: _Mind your business and cease your meddling!_

  "Moreover, you are invited to leave the United States at your early convenience.

  "France, England, Russia, and Italy are closed to you. Without doubt you understand that. Also, doubtless you have no desire to venture into Germany, Austria, Bulgaria, or Turkey. Scandinavia remains open to you, and practically no other country except Spain, because we do not permit you to go to Mexico or to Central or South America. Do you comprehend? _We_ do not permit it.

  "Therefore, hold your tongue and control your _furor scribendi_ while in New York. And make arrangements to take the next Danish steamer for Christiania.

  "This is a friendly warning. For if you are still here in the United States two weeks after you have received this letter, other measures will be taken in your regard which will effectually dispose of your troublesome presen
ce.

  "The necessity which forces us to radical action in this affair is regrettable, but entirely your own fault.

  "You have, from time to time during the last two years, received from us overtures of an amicable nature. You have been approached with discretion and have been offered every necessary guarantee to cover an understanding with us.

  "You have treated our advances with frivolity and contempt. And what have you gained by your defiance?

  "Our patience and good nature has reached its limits. We shall ask nothing further of you; we deliver you our orders hereafter. And our orders are to leave New York immediately.

  "Yet, even now, at the eleventh hour, it may not be too late for us to come to some understanding if you change your attitude entirely and show a proper willingness to negotiate with us in all good faith.

  "But that must be accomplished within the two weeks' grace given you before you depart.

  "You know how to proceed. If you try to play us false you had better not have been born. If you deal honestly with us your troubles are over.

  "This is final.

  "THE WATCHER."