CHAPTER XI
A DYNAMITE OUTRAGE
On one side of the Lake Dora mid John walked together, on the otherMary and Charlie. Miss Bussey and Roger Deane sat in the garden of thecafe. The scene round them was gay. Carriages constantly drove up,discharging daintily attired ladies and their cavaliers. There was aconstant stream of bicycles, some of them steered by fair riders inneat bloomer-suits; the road-waterers spread a grateful coolness intheir ambit, for the afternoon was hot for the time of year, and thedust had an almost autumnal volume. Miss Bussey had been talking fornearly ten minutes on end, and now she stopped with an exhausted air,and sipped her coffee. Deane lit another cigar and sat silently lookingon at the life that passed and repassed before him.
"It's a curious story," he observed at last.
"Very; but I suppose it's all ended happily now. Look at them, SirRoger."
"Oh, I see them."
"Their troubles are over at last, poor children; and really I thinkthey've all behaved very well. And yet----"
"Yes?"
"I should have thought Mary and Mr. Ashforth so suited to one another.Well, well, the heart's an unaccountable thing--to an old spinster,anyhow."
"You're right, Miss Bussey. Take my wife and me. You wouldn't havethought we should have hit it off, would you? First year I knew her Ihardly dared to speak to her--used to mug up Browning and--(Sir Rogerhere referred to an eminent living writer) and chaps like that, beforeI went to see her, you know. No use! I bored her to death. At last Ichucked it up."
"Well?"
"And I went one day and talked about the Grand National for half anhour by the clock. Well, she asked me to come again next day, and Iwent, and told her all about the last burlesque and--and so on, youknow. And then I asked her to marry me."
"And she said 'Yes'?"
"Not directly. She said there was an impassable gulf between us--anutter want of sympathy in our tastes and an irreconcilable differenceof intellectual outlook."
"Dear me! Didn't that discourage you?"
"I said I didn't care a dash; she was the only girl I ever cared for(all right, Miss Bussey, don't laugh), and I'd have any outlook sheliked. I said I knew I was an ass, but I thought I knew a pretty girlwhen I saw one, and I'd go away if she'd show me a prettier one."
"Well?"
"Well, she didn't."
Miss Bussey laughed a little.
"Of course," resumed Sir Roger, "I've got money, you know, and allthat, and perhaps----"
"Sir Roger! What a thing to say of your wife!"
"Well, with another girl--but hang it, I don't believe Maud would.Still, you see, it's so dashed queer that sometimes----"
"I'm sure she's very fond of you," said Miss Bussey, rather surprisedfit the nature of the confidence which she was receiving.
"I expect it's all right," resumed Deane, more cheerfully, "and thatbrings us back to where we started, doesn't it?"
"And we started in bewilderment."
"You're puzzled that Dora, Bellairs and Ashforth should pair offtogether, and----?"
"Well, the other combination would seem more natural, wouldn't it?Doesn't it surprise you a little?"
"I'm never surprised at anything till I know it's true," said Sir Roger.
"What, you----?"
They were interrupted by the return of their friends, and a move wasmade. Three vehicles were necessary to take them back, for the twoscould, obviously, neither be separated from one another nor united withanybody else, and in procession, Miss Bussey and Deane leading, theyfiled along the avenues back to the Arc de Triomphe.
They had hardly passed the open Place when their progress was suddenlyarrested. A crowd spread almost across the broad road, andsergents-de-ville imperiously commanded a halt. There was a babble oftongues, great excitement, and a thousand eager fingers pointing at ahouse. The doorway was in ruins, and workmen were busy shoring it upwith beams. In the middle of the crowd there was an open circle,surrounded by gendarmes, and kept clear of people. In the middle of itlay a thing like a rather tall slim watering-pot, minus the handle. Thecrowd, standing on tiptoe and peeping over the shoulders of theirguardians, shook their fists at this harmless-looking article andapostrophised it with a wonderful wealth of passionate invectives.
"What in the world's the matter?" cried Miss Bussey, who was nervous ina crowd.
"Revolution, I suppose;" responded Deane calmly, mid turning to hisnearest neighbor, he continued in the first French that came to him,"Une autre revolution, n'est-ce-pas, Monsieur?"
The man stared, but a woman near him burst into a voluble explanation,from the folds of which unlearned English ears disentangled, at thethird reiteration, the ominous word, "Dynamite;" and she pointed to thewatering-pot.
"Oh, it'll go off!" shrieked Miss Bussey.
"It's gone off," said Sir Roger. "We're too late," and there was atouch of disappointment in his voice, as he turned and shouted to theothers, "Keep your seats! It's all over. Only an explosion."
"Only!" shuddered Miss Bussey. "It's a mercy we weren't killed."
It appeared that this mercy had not stopped at Miss Bussey and herfriends. Nobody had been killed--not even the magistrate on the thirdfloor for whose discipline and reformation the occurrence had beenarranged; and presently the carriages were allowed to proceed.
Lady Deane's grief at having missed so interesting an occasion was verypoignant.
"No, Roger," said she, "it is not a mere craving for horrors, or amorbid love of excitement; I wish I had been there to observe thecrowd, because it's just at such moments that people reveal their trueselves. The veil is lifted--the veil of hypocrisy and convention--andyou see the naked soul."
"You could hear it too, Maud," observed Sir Roger. "Fine chance ofimproving your French vocabulary. Still, I daresay you're right."
"I'm sure I am."
Deane looked at his wife meditatively.
"You think," he asked, "that being in danger might make people----"
"Reveal their inmost natures and feelings? I'm sure of it."
"Gad! Then we might try."
"What do you mean, Roger?"
"Nothing. You're going out with the General to-night? Very well, Ishall take a turn on my own hook."
As he strolled toward the smoking-room, he met Charlie Ellerton.
"Well, old fellow, had a pleasant afternoon?"
"Glorious!" answered Charlie in a husky voice.
"Are we to congratulate you?"
"I--I--well, it's not _absolutely_ settled yet, Deane, but--soon, Ihope."
"That's right. Miss Bussey told me the whole story, and I think you'reprecious lucky to get such a girl."
"Yes, aren't I?"
"You don't look over and above radiant."
"Do you want me to go grinning about the hotel like an infernal hyena?"
"I think a chastened joy would be appropriate."
"Don't be an ass, Deane. I suppose you think you're funny."
Sir Roger passed on, with a smile on his lips. As he passed thereading-room Dora Bellairs came out.
"Well, Miss Dora, enjoyed your afternoon?"
"Oh, awfully--except that dreadful explosion."
"You must excuse a friend, you know. I'm awfully glad it's all comeright in the end."
"You--you're very kind, Sir Roger. It's--it's--there's nothing quitesettled yet."
"Oh, of course not, but still----! Well, I heard all about it and Ithink he's worthy of you. I can't say more. He seems a capital fellow."
"Yes, isn't he? I----"
"Yes?"
"Oh, I'm very, very, _very_ happy," and, after making this declarationin a shaky voice, she fairly ran away down the passage. Deane watchedher as she went.
"Maud's right," said he. "She always is. There's nothing for it butdynamite. I wonder where it's to be got?"
General Bellairs clapped him on the shoulders.
"Inclined for a turn, Deane? I'm going to see an old servant ofmine--Painter's his name. He married my poor w
ife's French maid, andset up as a restaurant-keeper in the Palais-Royal. I always look him upwhen I come to Paris."
"I'm your man," answered Deane, and they set out for Mr. Painter'sestablishment. It proved to be a neat little place, neither of the verycheap nor of the very sumptuous class, and the General was soonpromising to bring the whole party to dejeuner there. Painter wasprofuse in thanks and called Madame to thank the General. The Generalat once entered into conversation with the trim little woman.
"Nice place yours, Painter," observed Deane.
"Pleased to hear you say so, Sir Roger."
"Very nice. Ah--er--heard of the explosion?"
"Yes, Sir Roger. Abominable thing, sir. These Socialists----"
"Quite so. Never had one here, I suppose?"
"No, sir. We're pretty well looked after in here."
"Like one?" asked Deane.
"Beg pardon, sir. Ha-ha. No, sir."
"Because I want one."
"You--beg pardon, sir?"
"Look here, Painter. I'll drop in here after dinner for some coffee. Iwant to talk to you. See? Not a word to the General."
"Glad to see you, Sir Roger, but----"
"All right. I'll put you up to it. Here they come. Present me toMadame."
They went away, haying; arranged with the Painters for luncheon and aprivate room on the next day but one.
"Lunch for eight," said Deane. "At least, General, I thought we mightask our friends from the European."
"Yes--and young Laing."
"Oh, I forgot him. Yes, Laing, of course. For nine--neuf, you know,please, madame."
"That's all right," said the General, "I'm glad to do him a turn."
"Yes, that's all right," assented Sir Roger, with the slightestpossible chuckle. "We shall have a jolly lunch, eh, General?"