The Diva's Ruby

  CHAPTER XI

  Lady Maud found Mr. Van Torp waiting for her at the Bayreuth station.

  'You don't mean to say you've come right through?' he inquired,looking at her with admiration as he grasped her hand. 'You're asfresh as paint!'

  'That's rather a dangerous thing to say to a woman nowadays,' sheanswered in her rippling voice. 'But mine won't come off. How isMargaret?'

  Her tone changed as she asked the question.

  'She showed me your letter about Logo,' answered her friend withoutheeding the question, and watching her face to see if she weresurprised.

  She got into the carriage he had brought, and he stood by the doorwaiting for the porter, who was getting her luggage. She had no maidwith her.

  'I'm glad you have told me,' she answered, 'though I wish she had not.You probably think that when I wrote that letter I remembered what yousaid to me in London about giving me money for my poor women.'

  'No,' said Van Torp thoughtfully, 'I don't believe I do think so. Itwas like me to make the offer, Maud. It was like the sort of man I'vebeen, and you've known me. But it wouldn't have been like you toaccept it. It wasn't exactly low-down of me to say what I did, butit's so precious like low-down that I wouldn't say it again, and Isuppose I'm sorry. That's all.'

  His rough hand was on the side of the little open carriage. Shetouched it lightly with her gloved fingers and withdrew theminstantly, for the porter was coming with her not very voluminousluggage.

  'Thank you,' she said quickly. 'I understood, and I understand now.'

  They drove slowly up the Bahnhofstrasse, through the dull little town,that looks so thoroughly conscious of its ancient respectability ashaving once been the 'Residenz' of a Duke of Wuertemburg, and of itsvast importance as the headquarters of Richard Wagner'srepresentatives on earth.

  'See here,' said Mr. Van Torp. 'I've almost persuaded them all to rundown to Venice, and I want to know why you won't come too?'

  'Venice?' Lady Maud was surprised. 'It's as hot as Tophet now, andfull of mosquitoes. Why in the world do you want to take them there?'

  'Well,' answered the American, taking plenty of time over themonosyllable, 'I didn't exactly mean to stay there more than a fewminutes. I've bought a pretty nice yacht since I saw you, and she'sthere, eating her head off, and I thought you might all come alongwith me on her and go home that way, or somewhere.'

  'I had no idea you had a yacht!' Lady Maud smiled. 'What it is to havethe Bank of England in your pocket! Where did you get her, and whatis her name? I love yachts!'

  Van Torp explained.

  'I forget what she was called,' he said in conclusion, 'but I changedher name. It's _Lancashire Lass_ now.'

  'The dear old mare you rode that night! How nice of you! It's ahorse's name, of course, but that doesn't matter. I'm so glad youchose it. I shall never forget how you looked when you galloped offbareback in your evening clothes with no hat!'

  'I don't know how I looked,' said Van Torp gravely. 'But I know quitewell how I felt. I felt in a hurry. Now, what I want you to decideright away is whether you'll come, provided they will--for I don'tsuppose you and I could go mooning around in the yacht by ourselves.'

  'And I don't suppose,' returned Lady Maud, mimicking him ever solittle, 'that if "they" decide not to come, you will have time for along cruise.'

  'Now that's not fair,' objected the American. 'I didn't intend to putit in that way. Anyhow, will you come if they do? That's the point.'

  'Really, it depends a little on who "they" are. Do you mean onlyMargaret and that nice old friend of hers--Mrs. Patmore, isn't she? Inever met her.'

  'Rushmore,' said Van Torp, correcting her.

  'It's the same thing,' said Lady Maud vaguely, for she was trying tomake up her mind quickly.

  'You don't know her,' replied her friend. 'That's the reason why yousay it's the same thing. Nothing's the same as Mrs. Rushmore.'

  'Is she very dreadful?' asked Lady Maud, in some apprehension.

  'Dreadful? No! She's very sweet, I think. One of those real,old-fashioned, well-educated New York ladies, and refined right downto the ground. There's only one thing----'

  He stopped, trying to find words to express the one thing.

  'What is it? All you say about her sounds very nice----'

  'She's got the celebrity habit.'

  'Lions?' suggested Lady Maud, who understood him.

  'Yes,' he assented, 'she's a dandy after lions. She likes them forbreakfast, dinner, and tea, with a sandwich thrown in between times.She likes them to talk to, and to look at, and to tell about. That'sjust a habit, I suppose, like chewing gum, but she'll never get overit at her age. She's got to have a party of some kind every otherminute, even here, or she's uneasy at night. But I'm bound to say,with all truth, she does it well. She's a perfect lady, and she alwayssays the right thing and does the right thing. Besides, we're greatfriends, she and I. We get on beautifully.'

  'You're a celebrity,' observed Lady Maud.

  'So's Miss Donne, and a much bigger one. So's Logo, for that matter,but she doesn't think a great deal of Greeks. You're a sort ofcelebrity, too, and she's perfectly delighted you're coming, becauseyou're "Lady" Maud, and a Russian countess into the bargain. Thenthere's that other Russian--not that you're one, but youunderstand--Kralinsky is his name, Count Kralinsky. Ever hear thatname?'

  'Never. It sounds Polish.'

  'He might be anything. Sometimes I'm absolutely sure he's a man I usedto know out West when I was on the ranch, and then again there'ssomething quite different about him. Something about his legs or hiseyes, I can't tell which. I don't quite make him out. There's onething, though. He's the Kralinsky I bought your ruby from in New Yorka month ago, and he doesn't deny it, though I don't remember that hewas a Count then. He seemed glad to see me again, but he doesn't seemto talk much about selling rubies now. Perhaps he's got through that,as the camel said to the eye of the needle.'

  'Eh? What?' Lady Maud laughed.

  'Oh, nothing. I guess it's out of the Bible, or something. I'll tellyou all about him by and by. He's going away this afternoon, but he'spromised to join us in Venice for a trip, because Mrs. Rushmore findshim so attractive. He seems to know everybody intimately, all over theworld. I'd like you to see him. Here we are, and there's Miss Donnewaiting for you on the steps. I wish we'd had a longer ride together.'

  They reached the hotel, and Van Torp went off promptly, leavingMargaret to take Lady Maud upstairs and introduce her to Mrs.Rushmore.

  An hour later the two young women were together in Margaret's room,while Potts was unpacking for Lady Maud in the one that had beensecured for her in spite of all sorts of difficulties.

  The Primadonna was sitting at her toilet-table, turned away from theglass, and Lady Maud occupied the only possible chair there was, asmall, low easy-chair, apparently much too small for such a tallwoman, but less uncomfortable than it looked.

  They exchanged the usual banalities. It was awfully good of Margaretto ask Maud, it was awfully good of Maud to come. The journey had beentolerable, thank you, by taking the Orient Express as far asStuttgart. Margaret did not compare Maud's complexion to fresh paint,as Van Torp had done, but to milk and roses; and Maud said with truththat she had never seen Margaret looking better. It was the rest,Margaret said, for she had worked hard.

  'Are you going on Mr. Van Torp's yacht?' asked Lady Maud suddenly. 'Hespoke to me about it on the way from the station, and asked me tocome, in case you accept.'

  'I don't know. Will you go if I do? That might make a difference.'

  Lady Maud did not answer at once. She wished that she knew how mattershad gone between Margaret and Van Torp during the last few days, forshe sincerely wished to help him, now that she had made up her mind asto Logotheti's real character. Nevertheless, her love of fair-playmade her feel that the Greek ought to be allowed a chance ofretrieving himself.

  'Yes,' she said at last, 'I'll go, on one condition. At least, it'snot a condition, my dear, it's only a sugges
tion, though I hate tomake one. Don't think me too awfully cheeky, will you?'

  Margaret shook her head, but looked very grave.

  'I feel as if I were getting into a bad scrape,' she said, 'and Ishall be only too glad of any good advice. Tell me what I had betterdo.'

  'I must tell you something else first as a continuation of my letter,for all sorts of things happened after I wrote it.'

  She told Margaret all that has been already narrated, concerning thenews that Baraka had been set at large on Logotheti's sworn statementthat the ruby was not his, and that he had seen it in her possessionin Paris; and she told how she had tried to find him at his lodgings,and had failed, and how strangely the leather-faced secretary'sanswers had struck her, and how she had seen Baraka's gloves and stickin Logotheti's hall; and finally she said she had taken it into herhead that Logotheti had spirited away the Tartar girl on his yacht,which, as every one in town had known through the papers, was at Cowesand in commission. For Logotheti, in his evidence, had explained hisabsence from the Police Court by the fact that he had been off in the_Erinna_ for two days, out of reach of news.

  Margaret's face grew darker as she listened, for she knew Lady Maudtoo well to doubt but that every word was more than scrupulously true;and the deduction was at least a probable one. She bit her lip as shefelt her anger rising again.

  'What do you advise me to do?' she asked, in a sullen tone.

  'Telegraph to Logo and prepay an answer of twenty words. Telegraph tohis rooms in St. James's Place and at the same time to his house inParis. Telegraph anything you like that really needs an immediatereply. That's the important thing. If he does not answer withintwenty-four hours--say thirty-six at the most--he is either on hisyacht or hiding. Excuse the ugly word, dear--I don't think of anyother. If you are afraid of the servants, I'll take the message to thetelegraph office and send it for you. I suppose you have some way ofsigning which the clerks don't recognise--if you sign at all.'

  Margaret leaned back in her chair in silence. After a few seconds sheturned towards the glass, rested her chin on her folded knuckles, andseemed to be consulting her own reflexion. It is a way some womenhave. Lady Maud glanced at her from time to time, but said nothing. Atlast the Primadonna rose with a sweep that upset the light chairbehind her, one of those magnificent sweeps that look so well on thestage and are a little too large for a room. She got her blotter andpen from a shelf, brought it back to the toilet-table, picked up thechair in a very quiet and sensible way, as if she had never been onthe stage in her life, and sat down to write.

  'I shall take your advice, dear,' she said, opening the blotter andplacing a large sheet of paper in the right position.

  Lady Maud rose and went to the window, where she stood looking outwhile Margaret wrote her message.

  'You needn't write it out twice,' she said, without turning round.'Just put "duplicate message" and both addresses.'

  'Yes. Thank you.'

  Margaret was already writing. Her message said it was absolutelynecessary that she should see Logotheti directly, and bade him answerat once, if he could come to Bayreuth; if important financial affairshindered him, she herself would return immediately to Paris to seehim.

  She was careful to write 'financial' affairs, for she would not admitthat any other consideration could delay his obedience. While she wasbusy she heard, but scarcely noticed, an unearthly hoot from a bigmotor car that was passing before the hotel. There must have beensomething in the way, for the thing hooted again almost at once, andthen several times in quick succession, as if a gigantic brazen asswere beginning to bray just under the window. The noises ended in asort of wild, triumphant howl, with a furious puffing, and the motortook itself off, just as Margaret finished.

  She looked up and saw Lady Maud half bent, as if she had been struck;she was clinging with one hand to the flimsy chintz curtain, and herface was as white as a sheet. Margaret started in surprise, and roseto her feet so suddenly that she upset the chair again.

  'What has happened?' she cried. 'Are you ill, dear?'

  The delicate colour came slowly back to the smooth cheeks, thethoroughbred figure in black drew itself up with elastic dignity, andthe hand let go of the curtain.

  'I felt a little faint,' Lady Maud answered. 'Did I frighten you? Itwas nothing, and it's quite gone, I assure you.'

  'You looked dreadfully ill for a moment,' Margaret said in a tone ofconcern. 'Won't you let me send for something? Tea? Or something iced?I'm sure you have had nothing to eat or drink for hours! Howdisgracefully thoughtless of me!'

  She was just going to ring, but her friend stopped her.

  'No--please!' she cried. 'I'm all right, indeed I am. The room is alittle warm, I think, and I've been shut up in that stuffy train forthirty hours. Have you written your telegram? I'll put on my hat atonce, and take it for you. The little walk will do me good. Where isthe telegraph? But they can tell me downstairs. Don't bother! Walkingalways brings me round, no matter what has happened!'

  "'What has happened?' she cried. 'Are you ill, dear?'"]

  She spoke nervously, in disjointed phrases, in a way not like herself,for there was generally an air of easy calm in all she did, as ifnothing really mattered in the least, save when she was deeplyinterested; and hardly anything interested her now except what she hadmade her work. In all that belonged to that, she was energetic,direct, and quick.

  Margaret was sure that something was wrong, but let her go, since sheinsisted, and Lady Maud folded the written message and went to thedoor. Just as she was going to turn the handle Margaret spoke to her.

  'If I have no answer to that by to-morrow afternoon I shall accept Mr.Van Torp's invitation.'

  'I hope you will go,' Lady Maud said with sudden decision, 'for if youdo, I can go with you, and I'm dying to see the new yacht!'

  Margaret looked at her in surprise, for it was only a little whilesince she had seemed much less ready to join the party, and onlywilling to do so, if at all, in order to please her friend. She sawMargaret's expression.

  'Yes,' she said, as if in explanation, 'I've been thinking it over inthe last few minutes, and I want very much to go with you all. I shallbe back in less than an hour.'

  'An hour?'

  'Say half an hour. I want a good walk.'

  She opened the door quickly and passed out, shutting it almostnoiselessly after her; she was a very graceful woman and moved easily,whether in small spaces or large. In all her life she had probablynever overturned a chair with her skirt, as Margaret had done twicewithin ten minutes. She had not Baraka's gliding movement, thevirginal step of the girl of primeval race; hers was rather thecareless, swaying walk of a thoroughbred in good training, long-limbedand deep-breathed, and swift at need, but indolently easy when nocall was made upon her strength. She and Baraka and the youngPrimadonna represented well three of the possible types of beauty,very different from each other; so widely different that perhaps notwo of them would be likely to appeal to one man, as mere femininebeauty, at the same period of his life.

  Straight and tall in her mourning, Lady Maud went down the stairs ofthe hotel. As she was going out the hall porter raised his cap, andshe stopped a moment and asked him which was the nearest way to thetelegraph office. He stood on the doorstep and pointed in thedirection she was to follow as he answered her question.

  'Can you tell me,' she asked, 'whose motor car it was that passedabout ten minutes ago, and made so much noise?'

  'Count Kralinsky's, my lady,' the porter answered; for he spoke goodEnglish, and had the true hotel porter's respect for the Britisharistocracy abroad.

  'He was the gentleman with the big fair beard, I suppose? Yes, thankyou.'

  She went out into the dull street, with its monotonous houses, all twostories high, and she soon found the telegraph office and sentMargaret's duplicate message. She had not glanced at it, but the clerkasked her questions about words that were not quite clearly written,and she was obliged to read it through. It occurred to her that it wascouc
hed in extremely peremptory terms, even for an offendedbride-elect; but that was none of her business.

  When the clerk had understood, she walked up the hill to the FestivalTheatre. It all looked very dull and heavy, being an off-day, and asshe was not a Wagnerian it meant absolutely nothing to her. She wasdisappointed in the whole town, so far as she had expected anything ofit, for she had pictured it as being either grand in its way, orpicturesque, or at least charming; and it was not. Her British soulstuck up its nose in the general atmosphere of beer and sausage, whichshe instantly perceived rather than saw; and the Teutonism ofeverything, from the appearance of the Festival Theatre itself to thewooden faces of the policemen, and the round pink cheeks of the fewchildren she met, roused antagonism in her from the first. She went ona little farther, and then turned back and descended the hill, alwaysat the same even, easy pace, for she was rarely aware of any change ofgrade when she walked alone.

  But by degrees her expression had altered since she had left thetelegraph office, and she looked profoundly preoccupied, as if shewere revolving a very complicated question in her mind, which dislikedcomplications; and there was now and then a flash of displeased wonderin her face, when she opened her eyes quite wide and shut them, andopened them again, as if to make sure that she was quite awake.

  She went on, not knowing whither and not caring, always at the sameeven pace, and hardly noticing the people who passed her, of whom agood many were in two-horse cabs, some in queer little German motors,and a few on foot; and still she thought, and wondered, and tried tounderstand, but could not. At all events, she was glad to be alone;she was glad not to have even Van Torp with her, who was by far themost congenial person she knew; for he had the rare good gift ofsilence, and used it very often, and when he talked she liked his oddspeech, his unusual expressions, even his Western accent; she likedhim for his simple, unswerving friendship, and for his kindheart--though the world would have screamed with laughter at the idea;and more than all, she liked him for himself, and because she knewcertainly that neither he nor she could possibly, under anycircumstances, grow to like each other in any other way.

  But she did not wish that he were walking beside her now, and she wasquite indifferent to the fact that time was passing, and that Margaretwas beginning to wonder where in the world she was.

  'My dear child,' Mrs. Rushmore said, when the Primadonna expressed hersurprise, 'those English people are all alike, when they are once outon a road by themselves. They must take a long walk. I am quite surethat at this moment Countess Leven is miles from here--miles,Margaret. Do you understand me? I tell you she is walking mile uponmile. All English people do. You are only half English after all, mydear, but I have known you to walk a long distance alone, for no goodreason that I could see.'

  'It's good for the voice if you don't overdo it,' Margaret observed.

  'Yes. But Countess Leven does not sing, my dear. You forget that. Whyshould she walk mile upon mile like that? And I know Mr. Van Torp isnot with her, for Justine told me a quarter of an hour ago that sheheard him tell his man to bring him some hot water. So he is at home,you see. Margaret, what do you suppose Mr. Van Torp wants hot waterfor at this extraordinary hour?'

  'I really don't know,' Margaret answered, sipping her tea rathergloomily, for she was thinking of the telegram she had given Lady Maudto send.

  'You don't think Mr. Van Torp drinks, do you, my dear?' inquired Mrs.Rushmore.

  'Hot water? Some people do. It's good for the digestion.'

  'No, you purposely misunderstand me. I mean that he makes use of itfor--for the purpose of mixing alcoholic beverages alone in his room.'

  Margaret laughed.

  'Never! If there's a perfectly sober man living, it is he!'

  'I am glad to hear you say so, my dear. Because, if I thought he hadhabits, nothing would induce me to go on board his yacht. Nothing,Margaret! Not all his millions! Do you understand me? Margaret, dear,if you do not mind very much, I think we had better not accept hisinvitation after all, though I am sure it is well meant.'

  'You're very much mistaken if you think he drinks,' Margaret said,still inclined to laugh.

  'Well, my dear,' returned Mrs. Rushmore, 'I don't know. Justinecertainly heard him tell his man to bring him some hot water a quarterof an hour ago. Perhaps it may have been twenty minutes. It is a veryextraordinary hour to ask for such a thing, I am sure.'

  Margaret suggested that Mr. Van Torp might possibly have a fancy towash his hands in hot water at that unusual time of day, and Mrs.Rushmore seemed temporarily satisfied, for apparently she had notthought of this explanation.

  'Margaret,' she said solemnly, 'if you feel that you can put your handinto the fire for Mr. Van Torp's habits, I will go with you on hisyacht. Not otherwise, my dear.'

  The Primadonna laughed, and at last Mrs. Rushmore herself smiled, forshe was not without a sense of humour.

  'I cannot help it, my dear,' she said. 'You must not laugh at me if Iam nervous about such things; nervous, you understand, notunreasonable. But since you are prepared to take all theresponsibility I will go with you, my child. I cannot even say it is asacrifice on my part, for I am an excellent sailor, as you know, andvery fond of the sea. In my young days my dear husband used to have anice cat-boat at Newport, and he always took me with him. He used tosay that I steered quite nicely.'

  The vision of Mrs. Rushmore steering a Newport cat-boat was quite newto Margaret, and her lips parted in surprise.

  'Oh, yes, my child, we were very fond of sailing in those days,'continued the elderly lady, pleased with her recollections. 'I oftengot quite wet, I assure you, but I remember catching cold only once. Ithink it rained that day. My dear husband, I recollect, asked me toname the boat when he bought it, and so I called it the _Sea-Mew_.'

  'The _Sea-Mew_?' Margaret was mystified.

  'Yes. It was a cat-boat, my dear. Cats often mew. You understand, ofcourse. It was not very funny, perhaps, but I remember that my dearhusband laughed, and liked the name.'

  Margaret was laughing softly too.

  'I think it's awfully good, you know,' she said. 'You needn't say it'snot funny, for it's a very creditable little joke. Do you think youcould steer a boat now? I'm sure I could never learn! Everything aboutsailing and ships is an utter mystery to me.'

  'I daresay I could steer a cat-boat,' said Mrs. Rushmore calmly. 'I amsure I could keep a row-boat straight. Let me see--there's a thing youmove----'

  'The rudder?' suggested Margaret.

  'No, my dear. It's not the rudder, nor the boom, nor thecentre-board--how all the names come back to me! Yes, it is thetiller. That is the name. When you know which way to move the tiller,it is quite easy to steer.'

  'I fancy so,' said Margaret gravely.

  'Most people move it the wrong way when they begin,' continued thegood lady. 'You see "port" means "left" and "starboard" means"right." But when you turn the tiller to the left the boat goes to theright. Do you understand?'

  'It seems all wrong,' observed Margaret, 'but I suppose you know.'

  'Yes. In the same way, when you turn the tiller to the right the boatgoes to the left. The great thing is to remember that. It is the sameway with "weather" and "lee." I could show you if we were in a boat.

  'I haven't a doubt of it,' Margaret said. 'You're perfectly amazing! Ibelieve you are a regular sailor.'

  'Oh, no,' protested Mrs. Rushmore modestly; 'but indeed I often tookthe cat-boat out alone, now that I think of it. I used to raise thesail alone--I mean, I hoisted it. "Hoist"--that is the proper word, Iremember. I was quite strong in those days.'

  'Really, you are most extraordinary!' Margaret was genuinelysurprised. 'You'll astonish Mr. Van Torp when he hears your nauticallanguage on the yacht! Fancy your knowing all about sailing! I knewyou could swim, for we've often been in together at Biarritz--butsailing! Why did you never tell me?'

  'Shall we keep some tea for Countess Leven?' asked Mrs. Rushmore,changing the subject. 'I fear it will get quite cold. Those Englis
hpeople never know when to stop walking. I cannot understand what theycan see in it. Perhaps you will kindly touch the bell, my dear, and Iwill send the tea away. It can be brought fresh for her when shecomes. Thank you, Margaret. But she will not come in till it is justtime to dress for dinner. Mark my words, my child, the Countess willbe late for dinner. All English people are. Have you heard fromMonsieur Logotheti to-day?'

  'Not to-day,' Margaret answered, repressing a little start, for shewas as near to being nervous as she ever was, and she was thinking ofhim just then, and the question had come suddenly.

  'I think it is time you heard from him,' said Mrs. Rushmore, hernatural severity asserting itself. 'I should think that after thosevery strange stories in the papers he would write to you and explain,or come himself. By the bye, perhaps you will kindly pass me the_Herald_, my dear. What did you once tell me was the name of hisyacht?'

  'The _Erinna_,' Margaret answered, handing Mrs. Rushmore the sheet.

  'Exactly! I think that means the "Fury."'

  'He told me it was the name of a Greek poetess,' Margaret observed.

  'On account of her temper, I suppose,' answered the good ladyabsently, for she was looking up and down the columns in search ofsomething she had already seen. 'Here it is!' she said. 'It is underthe yachting news. "Cape Finisterre. Passed at 4 P.M., going south,steam yacht _Erinna_, with owner and party on board. All well." Mydear child, it is quite clear that if this is Monsieur Logotheti'syacht, he is going to Gibraltar.'

  'I don't know anything about geography,' Margaret said, and her wrath,which had been smouldering sullenly for days, began to glow again.

  'Margaret,' said Mrs. Rushmore, 'you surprise me! You were very welltaught----'

  But the Primadonna did not hear the long tirade of mild reproof thatfollowed. She knew well enough where Gibraltar was, and that Logothetiwas going all the way round to the Mediterranean on his yacht withsome one for company, and that the voyage was a long one. After whatLady Maud had said, there was not the least doubt in her mind as tohis companion, who could be no one but Baraka. He had been told thathe was not wanted at Bayreuth, and he was celebrating the sunset ofhis bachelor life in his own way. That was clear. If he received thetelegram that had just been sent to him, he would get it at Gibraltar,should he stop there, and as for answering it before Margaret leftBayreuth, she was inclined to make such a thing impossible by goingaway the next morning, if not that very night.

  Her angry reflexions and Mrs. Rushmore's lecture on the importance ofgeography in education were interrupted by the discreet entrance ofMr. Van Torp, who was announced and ushered to the door by Justine ina grand French manner. On the threshold, however, he stood still andasked if he might come in; being pressed to do so, he yielded,advanced, and sat down between the two ladies.

  'Mr. Van Torp,' said Mrs. Rushmore, 'I insist upon knowing what hasbecome of Countess Leven.'

  'I don't know, Mrs. Rushmore,' answered the millionaire, slowlyrubbing his hands. 'I haven't spoken to her since I brought her fromthe station. I daresay she's all right. She's most probably gone totake a walk. She often does in the country, I know--her father'scountry seat is next to mine, Mrs. Rushmore. I hope you'll pay me avisit some day. Why, yes, Lady Maud sometimes goes off alone and walksmiles and miles.'

  'There, Margaret,' said Mrs. Rushmore triumphantly, 'what did I tellyou? Mr. Van Torp says the Countess often walks for miles and miles.'

  'Why, certainly,' said Mr. Van Torp, 'though I'm bound to say she'sjust as fond of horseback. Her friends generally call her Lady Maud,Mrs. Rushmore. Perhaps you won't mind my telling you, as she prefersit a good deal herself. You see, I've had the pleasure of knowing herseveral years, so I daresay you'll forgive me for mentioning it.'

  'I think it is quite kind of you, on the contrary,' answered Mrs.Rushmore. 'Margaret, why did you never tell me of this? Had you anyreason for not telling me?'

  'I don't think I noticed what you called her,' Margaret answeredpatiently.

  'Because if you had any reason,' said Mrs. Rushmore, following her ownthoughts, 'I insist upon knowing what it was.'

  'Well, now, I'll tell you,' rejoined Mr. Van Torp, to save Margaretthe trouble of answering the futile little speech, 'her husband didn'ttreat her very well. There's not a purer woman in the six continents,Mrs. Rushmore, but he tried to divorce her, because he'd lost hismoney, if he ever had any, and she has none, and he wanted to marry anheiress. However, they automobilised him, or something, in St.Petersburg last June.'

  'Auto--what did you say?' inquired Mrs. Rushmore.

  'Killed by an automobile,' explained Mr. Van Torp gravely. 'But now Icome to think, it wasn't that. He got blown up by a bomb meant for abetter man. It was quite instantaneous, I recollect. His headdisappeared suddenly, and the greater part of him was scatteredaround, but they found his pocket-book with his cards and things, sothey knew who it was. It was driven through somebody else's hat on theother side of the street, wasn't it, Miss Donne? Things must have beenquite lively just then, where it happened. I supposed you knew.'

  Mrs. Rushmore explained that she had never heard any details.

  'Besides,' said Mr. Van Torp, in answer, though not quite relevantly,'everybody always calls her "Lady Maud" instead of "Countess Leven,"which she has on her cards.'

  'She would naturally use the higher title,' observed Mrs. Rushmorereverently.

  'Well, now, about that,' objected Mr. Van Torp, 'I'm bound to say Ithink the daughter of an English earl as good as a Russian count,anywhere west of Siberia. I don't know how they figure those thingsout at courts when they have to balance 'em up for seats at adinner-party, of course. It's just my impression, that's all, as abusiness man. He's dead anyway, and one needn't make personal remarksabout dead men. All the same, it was a happy release for Lady Maud,and I doubt if she sits up all night mourning for him. Have you beenout this afternoon, Miss Donne?'

  He changed the subject with extreme directness, and Mrs. Rushmore, whowas used to the dictatorial ways of lions, took the hint submissivelyenough, though she would have been glad to discuss the relative andintrinsic values of the designations 'Lady Maud' and 'Countess Leven.'But it was much more important that the lion should be left alone withMargaret as much as possible, and the excellent lady thereforeremembered that she had something to do and left them.

  'I had a little talk with Kralinsky before he left,' said Van Torp,when she was gone. 'He says he'll meet us in Venice any time in thenext few days. He's just going to run over to Vienna in hissudden-death-cart for twenty-four hours; then he'll go south, he says.He ran me up to the hotel and dropped me. I daresay you heard thetoots. I thought I saw Lady Maud looking out of the window of yourroom as I got out.'

  'Yes,' Margaret said. 'But how do you know that is my window?'

  'In the first place, I've counted the windows. I felt a sort ofinterest in knowing which was yours. And then, I often see your maidopening the shutters in the morning.'

  'Oh!' Margaret smiled. 'Did you notice anything unusual about LadyMaud when you saw her?' she asked, for she knew that he had good eyes.

  'Since you mention it, I thought she looked as if she didn't feelquite up to the mark--pale, I thought she was.'

  'Yes,' Margaret said. 'She felt ill for a moment, and I thought shewas going to faint. But it passed almost directly, and she insisted ongoing for a walk.'

  'Oh,' mused Mr. Van Torp, 'is that so? Well, I daresay it was the bestthing she could do. I was telling you about Kralinsky. He's not LeviLonglegs after all, and I'm not sure he was ever in the West.'

  'I thought it sounded unlikely,' Margaret said.

  'I asked him, just like that, in a friendly way, and he thought amoment and made an effort to recollect, and then he seemed quitepleased to remember that I'd been "Fanny" and he'd been Levi Longlegs,and that he used to whistle things out of _Parsifal_ by the fire of anevening.'

  'Well--but in that case---' Margaret stopped with an inquiring look.

  'Just so,' continued Van Torp, noddi
ng. 'Did you ever attend a trialand hear a witness being cross-examined by a lawyer who wants him toremember something, and he wants to remember it himself, but can't,because he never heard of it before in his life? It's quite funny. Thelawyer makes steps for him and puts his feet into them so that he getsalong nicely, unless the judge happens to wake up and kick, and thenthe little game stops right there, and somebody laughs. Well, my talkwith Kralinsky was like that, only there was no judge, so he wentaway happy; and we're old friends now, and punched cows on the sameranch, and he's coming on my yacht. I only wonder why he was soanxious to remember all that, and why he thought it would be kind offriendly if I called him Levi Longlegs again, and he called me FannyCook. I wonder! He says he's still very fond of _Parsifal_, and cameon purpose to hear it, but that he's completely forgotten how towhistle. That's funny too. I just thought I'd tell you, because if youcome on my yacht and he comes too, you're liable to see quite a gooddeal of one another.'

  'Did you tell him that Mrs. Rushmore and I would come?' Margaretasked. 'And Lady Maud?'

  'Why, no. You've not promised yet, any more than you did last nightwhen he was there and we talked about it, so how could I? I forgot tomention Lady Maud to him, or else I thought I wouldn't--I forgetwhich. It doesn't matter.'

  'No.' Margaret smiled. 'Not a little bit!'

  'You seem amused,' observed Mr. Van Torp.

  'By your way of putting it, and your pretending to forget such athing.'

  'It wasn't quite true that I forgot, but I wanted to, so I didn't sayanything about her. That's why I put it in that way. I don't choose toleave you any doubt about what I say, or mean, even in the smallestthings. The moment you feel the least doubt about the perfect accuracyof anything I tell you, even if it's not at all a downright lie oranything resembling one, you won't trust me at all, in anything.Because, if you trust me, you'll end by liking me, and if you don'ttrust me you'll go back to thinking that I'm the Beast out ofRevelations, or something, as you used to. I've forgotten the Beast'snumber.'

  Margaret smiled again, though she was continually conscious of her ownsullenly smouldering anger against Logotheti. Van Torp was gaininginfluence over her in his own uncouth way. Logotheti had been able toplay upon her moods, as on that day under the elm-tree at Versailles,and she blushed when she remembered that single kiss he had won fromher. But the American had no idea of such tactics in love, for he hadnever learned them. He was making war on the modern scientific systemof never losing a hair's-breadth of ground once gained, keeping hiscommunications constantly open with the base from which he hadstarted, bringing up fresh forces to the front without intermission,and playing his heavy artillery with judgment and tenacity.

  'The number doesn't matter,' Margaret said, 'for I've forgotten allabout the Beast.'

  'Thank you,' answered Mr. Van Torp. 'To change the subject--I've got alittle scheme to propose. Maybe you'll think well of it. Anyhow, asit's a mere matter of business connected with your career, you won'tmind my explaining it to you, will you?'

  'No, indeed!' Margaret was interested at once. 'Do tell me!' she said,leaning forward a little.

  'Well,' he began, 'I've looked around this place a good deal sinceI've been here, and I've come to the conclusion that it's not verywell done, anyhow, except _Parsifal_. That's what most of the peoplereally come for. I'm informed that they give all the other operasbetter in Munich, with the advantage of being in what you may call aChristian town, compared with this. Is that correct, do you think?'

  'Yes, I believe so.'

  'It is, you can depend upon it. Now, what I want to know is, why youand I shouldn't go into a little business partnership, and do thiskind of thing brown, as it ought to be done.' Margaret opened herhandsome eyes wide. 'Because,' continued Mr. Van Torp, as coolly as ifhe were explaining a new plan to a board of directors, 'we've got thecapital and the ability between us, and there's a demand in New Yorkfor what I propose to do. It'll fill a want, I know, and that meanssuccess and money. Why don't we build a theatre together? When I say atheatre, I mean a first-class opera-house and not a barn. We'll employthe best architects to build it, and, of course, I'd leave everythingabout it to you. I've got a block in New York just about in the rightplace, and it won't take long to build. I'll give the land and put upthe money for the building, if you'll undertake the management. You'llput in any money you like, of course, and we'll share the profits.Maybe they'll be quite handsome, for we'll lease the theatre to otherpeople outside of the season. We'll have the best talent in Europe,and pay for it, and the public will pay us back. We'll call it theCordova Opera, if you like, and you'll run it according to your ownideas, and sing or not, whenever you please.'

  'Are you in earnest?'

  Margaret had some difficulty in pronouncing the words clearly. He hadbrought up some very heavy artillery indeed, and at the right moment.Was there ever a great soprano who did not dream of having the mostperfect theatre of her very own, and who could receive unmoved theoffer to build one from a man who could build twenty if he chose? Veryrarely in her life had she been aware of her bodily heart, but shecould feel it now, beating like a hammer on the anvil.

  'I'm in earnest,' Van Torp answered with perfect calm. 'I've thoughtthe whole thing over in all its aspects, just as I would a railroad,or a canal, or a mine, and I've concluded to try it, if you'll helpme, because it's going to be a safe investment. You see, Miss Donne,'he went on slowly, 'there's no artist on the Grand Opera stage nowwho's so well equipped for the business as you are. I'm not flatteringyou, either. In your own kind of parts you've simply got no rival.Everybody says so, and I suppose you won't play kitty and deny it.Let's start fair, now.'

  'It would be silly to deny that I'm one of the first,' Margaretadmitted.

  'That'll do, thank you. One of the first, and the first is one ofthem, and you're it. Besides, you've got before you what's behind mostof them. You're young. I'm not talking about your personal appearance,but that's just one more item in the assets. Another big one is thatyou're a first-class musician, whereas half these singers can onlybang the box like great, thundering, overgrown schoolgirls. Allowthat?'

  'I suppose I must "allow" anything!' laughed the Primadonna.

  'Well, now, I've told you. You've got the name I need, and you've gotthe voice, and the talent, and you've got the science and culture. Isuppose you'll let me say that I've got the business ability, won'tyou?'

  The iron mouth smiled a little grimly.

  'Rather! I fancy some people have wished you had less!'

  'And the money's here, for I always have a blank cheque in my pocket.If you like, I'll fill it in, and we'll deposit it wherever you say,in the name of the "Cordova Opera Company," or "Madame da Cordova,Rufus Van Torp and Co." We can make out our little agreement induplicate right here, on the corner of the table, and sign it; andbefore we leave here you might go around and speak to the best singersabout an engagement in New York for a Wagner festival, a year fromnext Christmas. That's business, and this is a purely businessproposition. If you'd like to think it over, I'll go and take a littlewalk before dinner.'

  'It sounds like a dream!' Margaret answered, in a wondering tone.

  'Money's an awful reality,' Van Torp remarked. 'I'm talking business,and as I'm the one who's going to put up most of the capital, you'lldo me the credit to believe that I'm quite wide awake.'

  'Do you really, really, really mean it?' She spoke almost like achild.

  It was not the first time in his life that the financier had seen thestunning effect of a big sum, projected with precision, like a shell,at exactly the right moment. He was playing the great game again, butfor a prize he thought worth more than any he had yet won, and thevery magnitude of the risk steadied his naturally steady brain.

  'Yes,' he said quietly, 'I do. Perhaps I've startled you a little, andI shouldn't like you to make a decision till you feel quite ready to.I'll just say again that I've thought the whole thing out as a genuineventure, and that I believe in it, or I wouldn't propose it. Mayb
eyou've got some sensible lawyer you have confidence in, and would liketo consult him first. If you feel that way, I'd rather you should. Abusiness partnership's not a thing to go into with your eyes shut, andif we had any reason for distrusting one another, it would be betterto make inquiries. But so far as that goes, it appears to me thatwe've got facts to go on, which would make any partnership succeed.You've certainly got the musical brains, besides a little money ofyour own, and I've certainly got the rest of the funds. I'd like youto put some money in, though, if you can spare it, because that's aguarantee that you're going to be in earnest, too, and do your sharein the musical side. You see I'm talking to you just as I would to aman in the same position. Not because I doubt that if you put yourname to a piece of paper you really will do your share as a partner,but because I'm used to working in that sort of way in business. Howdoes that strike you? I hope you're not offended?'

  'Offended!'

  There was no mistaking the suppressed excitement and delight in hervoice. If he had possessed the intelligence of Mephistopheles and thecharm of Faust he could not have said anything more subtly pleasing toher dignity and her vanity.

  'Of course,' he said, 'it needn't be a very large sum. Still it oughtto be something that would make a difference to you.'

  She hesitated a moment, and then spoke rather timidly.

  'I think perhaps--if we did it--I could manage a hundred thousandpounds,' she said. 'Would that be too little, do you think?'

  The large mouth twitched and then smiled pleasantly.

  'That's too much,' he said, shaking his head. 'You mustn't put allyour eggs in one basket. A hundred thousand dollars would be quiteenough as your share of the capital, with option to buy stock of me atpar, up to a million, or so, if it's a success.'

  'Really? Would that be enough? And, please, what is "stock" in such acase?'

  'Stock,' said the financier, 'is a little plant which, when wellwatered, will grow like the mustard seed, till all the birds of WallStreet make their nests in its branches. And if you don't water it toomuch, it'll be all right. In our case, the stock is going to be thatshare of the business which most people sell to raise money, andwhich we mean to keep for ourselves. I always do it that way, whencircumstances allow. I once bought all the stock of a railroad fornothing, for instance, and sold all the bonds, and let it go bankrupt.Then I bought the road one day, and found all the stock was in my ownpocket. That's only a little illustration. But I guess you can leavethe financial side in my hands. You won't lose by it, I'm prettysure.'

  'I fancy not!' Margaret's eyes were wide open, her hands were claspedtightly on her knee, and she was leaning forward a little. 'Besides,'she went on, 'it would not be the money that I should care about! Ican earn more money than I want, and I have a little fortune of myown--the hundred thousand I offered you. Oh, no! It would be thesplendid power to have the most beautiful music in the world given asit could be given nowhere else! The joy of singing myself--the parts Ican sing--in the most perfect surroundings! An orchestra picked fromthe whole world of orchestras, the greatest living leaders, the mostfaultless chorus! And the scenery, and the costumes--everything aseverything could be, if it were really, really the best that can behad! Do you believe it is possible to have all that?'

  'Oh, yes, and with your name to it, too. We'll have everything onearth that money can buy to make a perfect opera, and I'll guaranteeit'll pay after the first two seasons. That is, if you'll work at itas hard as I will. But you've got to work, Miss Donne, you've got towork, or it's no use thinking of it. That's my opinion.'

  'I'll work like a Trojan!' cried Margaret enthusiastically.

  'Trojans,' mused Van Torp, who wanted to bring her back to herordinary self before Mrs. Rushmore or Lady Maud came in. 'Let me see.They say that because the Trojans had to work so hard to get over theAlps coming down into Italy, don't they?'

  Whether Mr. Van Torp made this monstrous assertion in ignorance, orfor effect, no one will ever know. An effect certainly followed atonce, for Margaret broke into an echoing laugh.

  'I believe it was the Carthaginians,' she said presently. 'It's thesame thing, as Lady Maud is so fond of saying!'

  'All in the family, as Cain said when he killed Abel,' observed VanTorp without a smile.

  Margaret looked at him and laughed again. She would have laughed atanything in the remotest degree amusing just then, for she found ithard to realise exactly what she was doing or saying. The possibilityhe had suddenly placed within her reach appealed to almost everythingin her nature at once, to her talent, her vanity, her real knowledgeof her art, her love of power, even to her good sense, which wasunusually practical in certain ways. She had enough experience inherself, and enough knowledge of the conditions to believe that herown hard work, combined with Van Torp's unlimited capital, could andcertainly would produce such an opera-house, and bring to it suchartists as had never been seen and heard, except perhaps in Bayreuth,during its first great days, now long past.

  Then, too, he had put the matter before her so skilfully that shecould look upon it honestly as a business partnership, in which hervoice, her judgment, and her experience would bear no contemptibleproportion to his money, and in which she herself was to invest moneyof her own, thereby sharing the risk according to her fortune as wellas giving the greater part of the labour. She felt for some weak placein the scheme, groping as if she were dazzled, but she could findnone.

  'I don't think I shall need time to think this over,' she said,controlling her voice better, now that she had made up her mind. 'As Iunderstand it, I am to put in what I can in the way of ready-money,and I am to give my time in all ways, as you need it, and my voice,when it is wanted. Is that it?'

  'Except that, when you choose to sing, the Company will allow you yourusual price for each appearance,' answered Van Torp in a business-likemanner. 'You will pay yourself, or we both shall pay you, just as muchas we should pay any other first-class soprano, or as much more as youwould get in London or New York if you signed an engagement.'

  'Is that fair?' Margaret asked.

  'Why, certainly. But the Company, which is you and I, will probablyrule that you mustn't sing in Grand Opera anywhere in the States eastof the Rockies. They've got to come to New York to hear you.Naturally, you'll be free to do anything you like in Europe outsideof our season, when you can spare the time.'

  'Of course.'

  'Well, now, I suppose we might as well note that down right away, as apreliminary agreement. What do you say?'

  'I say that I simply cannot refuse such an offer!' Margaret answered.

  'Your consent is all that's necessary,' he said, in a matter-of-facttone.

  He produced from an inner pocket a folded sheet of foolscap, which hespread on the corner of the table beside him. He took out a fountainpen and began to write quickly. The terms and forms were as familiarto him as the alphabet and he lost no time; besides, as he had toldthe Primadonna, he had thought out the whole matter beforehand.

  'What if Mrs. Rushmore comes in just as we are signing it?' askedMargaret.

  'We'll tell her, and ask her to witness our signatures,' replied VanTorp without looking up. 'I judge Mrs. Rushmore to have quite aknowledge of business.'

  'You seem able to write and talk at the same time,' Margaret said,smiling.

  'Business talk, yes.' The pen ran on swiftly. 'There. That's aboutall, I should say. Do you think you can read my writing? I don'tsuppose you've ever seen it.'

  He turned the page round, and handed it to her. The writing was largeand perfectly legible, but very different from the 'commercial' handof most American business men. Any one word, taken at random, mighthave seemed unformed, at first sight, but the appearance of the wholewas oddly strong and symmetrical. Margaret read the clauses carefully.She herself had already signed a good many legal papers in connexionwith her engagements and her own small fortune, and the language wasnot so unfamiliar to her as it would have been to most women.

  'Shall I sign first?' she asked, when sh
e had finished. 'My own name?Or my stage name?'

  'Your own name, please,' said Van Torp without hesitation. 'The othersonly binding in your profession, because you appear under it, and it'syour "business style."'

  She wrote 'Margaret Donne' at the foot of the page in her large andrather irregular hand, and passed the paper back to Van Torp, whosigned it. He waved the sheet slowly to and fro, to dry the ink.

  'It's only a preliminary agreement,' he said, 'but it's binding as faras it goes and I'll attend to the rest. You'll have to give me a powerof attorney for my lawyer in New York. By the bye, if you decide tocome, you can do that in Venice, where there's a real live consul.That's necessary. But for all matters of business herein set forth, weare now already "The Madame da Cordova and Rufus Van Torp Company,organised for the purpose of building an Opera-house in the City ofNew York and for giving public performances of musical works in thesame, with a nominal capital hereafter to be agreed upon." That'swhat we are now.'

  He folded the sheet, returned it to his inner pocket and held out hishand in a cheerful, business-like manner.

  'Shall we shake hands on it?' he asked.

  'By all means,' Margaret answered readily, and their eyes met; but shedrew back her hand again before taking his. 'This is purely a matterof business between us,' she said, 'you understand that? It meansnothing else?'

  'Purely a matter of business,' answered Rufus Van Torp, slowly andgravely.