Page 7 of The Yellow Crayon


  CHAPTER VII

  They sat together at a small table, looking upon a scene which wasprobably unique in the history of the great restaurant. The younger manwas both frankly interested and undoubtedly curious. Mr. Sabin, thoughhis eyes seemed everywhere, retained to the full extent that nonchalanceof manner which all his life he had so assiduously cultivated.

  "It is wonderful, my dear Felix," he said, leisurely drawing hiscigarette-case from his pocket, "wonderful what good fellowship canbe evolved by a kindred interest in sport, and a bottle or so of goodchampagne. But, after all, this is not to be taken seriously."

  "Shamrock the fourth! Shamrock the fourth!"

  A tall young American, his thick head of hair, which had once beencarefully parted in the middle, a little disheveled, his hard, clean-cutface flushed with enthusiasm, had risen to his feet and stood with abrimming glass of champagne high over his head. Almost every one in theroom rose to their feet. A college boy sprang upon a table with extendedarms. The Yale shout split the room. The very glasses on the tablerattled.

  "Columbia! Columbia!"

  It was an Englishman now who had leaped upon a vacant table withupraised glass. There was an answering roar of enthusiasm. Every onedrank, and every one sat down again with a pleasant thrill of excitementat this unique scene. Felix leaned back in his chair and marveled.

  "One would have imagined," he murmured, "that America and Englandtogether were at war with the rest of the world and had won a greatvictory. To think that this is all the result of a yacht race. It isincredible!"

  "All your life, my dear Felix," Mr. Sabin remarked, "you have underratedthe sporting instinct. It has a great place amongst the impulses of theworld. See how it has brought these people together."

  "But they are already of the same kin," Felix remarked. "Their interestsand aims are alike. Their destinies are surely identical."

  Mr. Sabin, who had lit his cigarette, watched the blue smoke curlupwards, and was thoughtful for a moment.

  "My dear Felix!" he said. "You are very, very young. The interests oftwo great nations such as America and England can never be alike. It isthe language of diplomacy, but it is also the language of fools."

  Their conversation was for the moment interrupted by a fresh murmur ofapplause, rising above the loved hum of conversation, the laughter ofwomen, and the popping of corks. A little troop of waiters had justwheeled into the room two magnificent models of yachts hewn out ofblocks of solid ice and crowned with flowers. On the one were the Starsand Stripes, on the other the Shamrock and Thistle. There was muchclapping of hands and cheering. Lady Carey, who was sitting at the nexttable with her back to them, joined in the applause so heartily thata tiny gold pencil attached to her bracelet became detached and rolledunobserved to Mr. Sabin's side. Felix half rose to pick it up, but wassuddenly checked by a quick gesture from his companion.

  "Leave it," Mr. Sabin whispered. "I wish to return it myself."

  He stooped and picked it up, a certain stealthiness apparent in hismovement. Felix watched him in amazement.

  "It is Lady Carey's, is it not?" he asked.

  "Yes. Be silent. I will give it back to her presently."

  A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching somethingon the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the manretired.

  "Mysterious as ever," he remarked.

  Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.

  "I do not want," Felix said, "to seem impatient, but you must rememberthat I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgentmessage. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortablethird at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal ofenigmatic conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. Thisevening I made sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have givenme a wonderful dinner--from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin,canvas-back duck, and many other things the names of which alone wereknown to me. But of the reason for which you have summoned me here--Iknow nothing. Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear fromyour avoidance of the subject that there is some trouble between you andLucille. I beg that you will set my anxiety at rest."

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  "It is reasonable," he said. "Look here!"

  He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort ofa device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead ofblack-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat asthough turned to stone.

  "Try," Mr. Sabin said smoothly, "and avoid that air of tragedy. Some ofthese good people might be curious."

  Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.

  "What does that mean?" he muttered.

  Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "Irather thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I havean idea that there is a society in Europe--sort of aristocraticodd-fellows, you know--who had adopted it for their crest. Am I notright?"

  Felix looked at him steadfastly.

  "Tell me two things," he said. "First, why you sent for me, andsecondly, what do you mean--by that?"

  "Lucille," Mr. Sabin said, "has been taken away from me."

  "Lucille! Great God!"

  "She has been taken away from me," Mr. Sabin said, "without a singleword of warning."

  Felix pointed to the menu card.

  "By them?" he asked.

  "By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable."

  Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of hiscompanion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.

  "She has been taken to Europe," Mr. Sabin continued. "I do not know, Icannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warnednot to follow her."

  "You obey?"

  "I sail to-morrow."

  "And I?" Felix asked.

  Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menucard, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.

  "You must know," he said, "that I am powerless."

  "You may be able to help me," Mr. Sabin said, "without compromisingyourself."

  "Impossible!" Felix declared. "But what did they want with Lucille?"

  "That," Mr. Sabin said, "is what I am desirous of knowing. It is what Itrust that you, my dear Felix, may assist me to discover."

  "You are determined, then, to follow her?"

  Mr. Sabin helped himself to a liqueur from the bottle by his side.

  "My dear Felix," he said reproachfully, "you should know me better thanto ask me such a question."

  Felix moved uneasily in his chair.

  "Of course," he said, "it depends upon how much they want to keep youapart. But you know that you are running great risks?"

  "Why, no," Mr. Sabin said. "I scarcely thought that. I have understoodthat the society was by no means in its former flourishing condition."

  Felix laughed scornfully.

  "They have never been," he answered, "richer or more powerful. Duringthe last twelve months they have been active in every part of Europe."

  Mr. Sabin's face hardened.

  "Very well!" he said. "We will try their strength."

  "We!" Felix laughed shortly. "You forget that my hands are tied. Icannot help you or Lucille. You must know that."

  "You cannot interfere directly," Mr. Sabin admitted. "Yet you areLucille's brother, and I am forced to appeal to you. If you will be mycompanion for a little while I think I can show you how you can helpLucille at any rate, and yet run no risk."

  The little party at the next table were breaking up at last. Lady Carey,pale and bored, with tired, swollen eyes--they were always a littleprominent--rose languidly and began to gather together her belongings.As she did so she looked over the back of her chair and met Mr. Sabin'seyes. He rose at once and bowed. She cast a quick sidelong glance at hercompanions, which he at once understood.

  "I have the honour, Lady Carey," he said, "of recalling myself to yourrecollection. We met
in Paris and London not so very many years ago. Youperhaps remember the cardinal's dinner?"

  A slight smile flickered upon her lips. The man's adroitness alwaysexcited her admiration.

  "I remember it perfectly, and you, Duke," she answered. "Have you madeyour home on this side of the water?"

  Mr. Sabin shook his head slowly.

  "Home!" he repeated. "Ah, I was always a bird of passage, you remember.Yet I have spent three very delightful years in this country."

  "And I," she said, lowering her tone and leaning towards him, "one verystupid, idiotic day."

  Mr. Sabin assumed the look of a man who denies any personalresponsibility in an unfortunate happening.

  "It was regrettable," he murmured, "but I assure you that it wasunavoidable. Lucille's brother must have a certain claim upon me, and itwas his first day in America."

  She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.Her friends were already on the way.

  "Come with me," she said. "I want to speak to you."

  He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. Therestaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almostdrowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was afamous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference,the national deportment of her sex and rank. The women whisperedtogether that she was "very English."

  In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.

  "Will you take me back to my hotel?" she asked pointedly.

  "I regret that I cannot," he answered. "I have promised to show Felixsome of the wonders of New York by night."

  "You can take him to-morrow."

  "To-morrow," Mr. Sabin said, "he leaves for the West."

  She looked closely into his impassive face.

  "I suppose that you are lying," she said shortly.

  "Your candour," he answered coldly, "sometimes approaches brutality."

  She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.

  "We are playing a foolish game with one another," she murmured. "I offeryou an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help."

  "What can I do," he answered gravely, "save be grateful--and accept?"

  "Then--"

  She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin's luck which had intervened. HerbertDaikeith stood at her elbow.

  "Lady Carey," he said, "they're all gone but the mater and I. Forgive myinterrupting you," he added hastily.

  "You can go on, Herbert," she added. "The Duc de Souspennier will bringme."

  Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turnedtowards the young man with a smile.

  "Lady Carey has not introduced us," he said, "but I have seen you atRanelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have atry over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters canhold their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall domyself the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I havea little excursion to propose. Good-night."

  She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr.Sabin smiled--faintly amused. He turned to Felix.

  "Come," he said, "we have no time to lose."