CHAPTER XI

  THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD

  At precisely the hour agreed upon Harcutt and Densham met in one of theante-rooms leading into the "Milan" restaurant. They surrendered theircoats and hats to an attendant, and strolled about waiting forWolfenden. A quarter of an hour passed. The stream of people from thetheatres began to grow thinner. Still, Wolfenden did not come. Harcutttook out his watch.

  "I propose that we do not wait any longer for Wolfenden," he said. "Isaw him this afternoon, and he answered me very oddly when I remindedhim about to-night. There is such a crowd here too, that they will notkeep our table much longer."

  "Let us go in, by all means," Densham agreed. "Wolfenden will easilyfind us if he wants to!"

  Harcutt returned his watch to his pocket slowly, and without removinghis eyes from Densham's face.

  "You're not looking very fit, old chap," he remarked. "Is anythingwrong?"

  Densham shook his head and turned away.

  "I am a little tired," he said. "We've been keeping late hours the lastfew nights. There's nothing the matter with me, though. Come, let us goin!"

  Harcutt linked his arm in Densham's. The two men stood in the doorway.

  "I have not asked you yet," Harcutt said, in a low tone. "What fortune?"

  Densham laughed a little bitterly.

  "I will tell you all that I know presently," he said.

  "You have found out something, then?"

  "I have found out," Densham answered, "all that I care to know! I havefound out so much that I am leaving England within a week!"

  Harcutt looked at him curiously.

  "Poor old chap," he said softly. "I had no idea that you were so hardhit as all that, you know."

  They passed through the crowded room to their table. Suddenly Harcuttstopped short and laid his hand upon Densham's arm.

  "Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "Look at that! No wonder we had to wait forWolfenden!"

  Mr. Sabin and his niece were occupying the same table as on the previousnight, only this time they were not alone. Wolfenden was sitting therebetween the two. At the moment of their entrance, he and the girl werelaughing together. Mr. Sabin, with the air of one wholly detached fromhis companions, was calmly proceeding with his supper.

  "I understand now," Harcutt whispered, "what Wolfenden meant thisafternoon. When I reminded him about to-night, he laughed and said:'Well, I shall see you, at any rate.' I thought it was odd at the time.I wonder how he managed it?"

  Densham made no reply. The two men took their seats in silence.Wolfenden was sitting with his back half-turned to them, and he had notnoticed their entrance. In a moment or two, however, he looked round,and seeing them, leaned over towards the girl and apparently asked hersomething. She nodded, and he immediately left his seat and joined them.

  There was a little hesitation, almost awkwardness in their greetings. Noone knew exactly what to say.

  "You fellows are rather late, aren't you?" Wolfenden remarked.

  "We were here punctually enough," Harcutt replied; "but we have beenwaiting for you nearly a quarter of an hour."

  "I am sorry," Wolfenden said. "The fact is I ought to have left wordwhen I came in, but I quite forgot it. I took it for granted that youwould look into the room when you found that I was behind time."

  "Well, it isn't of much consequence," Harcutt declared; "we are herenow, at any rate, although it seems that after all we are not to havesupper together."

  Wolfenden glanced rapidly over his shoulder.

  "You understand the position, of course," he said. "I need not ask youto excuse me."

  Harcutt nodded.

  "Oh, we'll excuse you, by all means; but on one condition--we want toknow all about it. Where can we see you afterwards?"

  "At my rooms," Wolfenden said, turning away and resuming his seat at theother table.

  Densham had made no attempt whatever to join in the conversation. Oncehis eyes had met Wolfenden's, and it seemed to the latter that there wasa certain expression there which needed some explanation. It was notanger--it certainly was not envy. Wolfenden was puzzled--he was evendisturbed. Had Densham discovered anything further than he himself knewabout this man and the girl? What did he mean by looking as though thekey to this mysterious situation was in his hands, and as though he hadnothing but pity for the only one of the trio who had met with anysuccess? Wolfenden resumed his seat with an uncomfortable convictionthat Densham knew more than he did about these people whose guest hehad become, and that the knowledge had damped all his ardour. There wasa cloud upon his face for a moment. The exuberance of his happiness hadreceived a sudden check. Then the girl spoke to him, and the memory ofDensham's unspoken warning passed away. He looked at her long andsearchingly. Her face was as innocent and proud as the face of a child.She was unconscious even of his close scrutiny. The man might beanything; it might even be that every word that Felix had spoken wastrue. But of the girl he would believe no evil, he would not doubt hereven for a moment.

  "Your friend," remarked Mr. Sabin, helping himself to an ortolan, "is ajournalist, is he not? His face seems familiar to me although I haveforgotten his name, if ever I knew it."

  "He is a journalist," Wolfenden answered. "Not one of the rank andfile--rather a _dilettante_, but still a hard worker. He is devoted tohis profession, though, and his name is Harcutt."

  "Harcutt!" Mr. Sabin repeated, although he did not appear to recollectthe name. "He is a political journalist, is he not?"

  "Not that I am aware of," Wolfenden answered. "He is generallyconsidered to be the great scribe of society. I believe that he isinterested in foreign politics, though."

  "Ah!"

  Mr. Sabin's interjection was significant, and Wolfenden looked upquickly but fruitlessly. The man's face was impenetrable.

  "The other fellow," Wolfenden said, turning to the girl, "is Densham,the painter. His picture in this year's Academy was a good deal talkedabout, and he does some excellent portraits."

  She threw a glance at him over her gleaming white shoulder.

  "He looks like an artist," she said. "I liked his picture--a Frenchlandscape, was it not? And his portrait of the Countess of Davenport wasmagnificent."

  "If you would care to know him," Wolfenden said, "I should be very happyto present him to you."

  Mr. Sabin looked up and shook his head quickly, but firmly.

  "You must excuse us," he said. "My niece and I are not in England forvery long, and we have reasons for avoiding new acquaintances as much aspossible."

  A shade passed across the girl's face. Wolfenden would have given muchto have known into what worlds those clear, soft eyes, suddenly set in afar away gaze, were wandering--what those regrets were which had floatedup so suddenly before her. Was she too as impenetrable as the man, orwould he some day share with her what there was of sorrow or of mysteryin her young life? His heart beat with unaccustomed quickness at thethought. Mr. Sabin's last remark, the uncertainty of his own positionwith regard to these people, filled him with sudden fear; it might bethat he too was to be included in the sentence which had just beenpronounced. He looked up from the table to find Mr. Sabin's cold, steelyeyes fixed upon him, and acting upon a sudden impulse he spoke what wasnearest to his heart.

  "I hope," he said, "that the few acquaintances whom fate does bring youare not to suffer for the same reason."

  Mr. Sabin smiled and poured himself out a glass of wine.

  "You are very good," he said. "I presume that you refer to yourself. Weshall always be glad that we met you, shall we not, Helene? But I doubtvery much if, after to-night, we shall meet again in England at all."

  To Wolfenden the light seemed suddenly to have gone out, and the soft,low music to have become a wailing dirge. He retained some command ofhis features only by a tremendous effort. Even then he felt that he hadbecome pale, and that his voice betrayed something of the emotion thathe felt.

  "You are going away," he said slowly--"abroad!"

  "Very soon indeed," M
r. Sabin answered. "At any rate, we leave Londonduring the week. You must not look upon us, Lord Wolfenden, as ordinarypleasure-seekers. We are wanderers upon the face of the earth, not somuch by choice as by destiny. I want you to try one of these cigarettes.They were given to me by the Khedive, and I think you will admit that heknows more about tobacco than he does about governing."

  The girl had been gazing steadfastly at the grapes that lay untastedupon her plate, and Wolfenden glanced towards her twice in vain; now,however, she looked up, and a slight smile parted her lips as her eyesmet his. How pale she was, and how suddenly serious!

  "Do not take my uncle too literally, Lord Wolfenden," she said softly."I hope that we shall meet again some time, if not often. I should bevery sorry not to think so. We owe you so much."

  There was an added warmth in those last few words, a subtle light in hereyes. Was she indeed a past mistress in all the arts of coquetry, or wasthere not some message for him in that lowered tone and softened glance?He sat spellbound for a moment. Her bosom was certainly rising andfalling more quickly. The pearls at her throat quivered. Then Mr.Sabin's voice, cold and displeased, dissolved the situation.

  "I think, Helene, if you are ready, we had better go," he said. "It isnearly half-past twelve, and we shall escape the crush if we leave atonce."

  She stood up silently, and Wolfenden, with slow fingers, raised hercloak from the back of the chair and covered her shoulders. She thankedhim softly, and turning away, walked down the room followed by the twomen. In the ante-room Mr. Sabin stopped.

  "My watch," he remarked, "was fast. You will have time after all for acigarette with your friends. Good-night."

  Wolfenden had no alternative but to accept his dismissal. A little,white hand, flashing with jewels, but shapely and delicate, stole outfrom the dark fur of her cloak, and he held it within his for a second.

  "I hope," he said, "that at any rate you will allow me to call, and saygoodbye before you leave England?"

  She looked at him with a faint smile upon her lips. Yet her eyes werevery sad.

  "You have heard what my inexorable guardian has said, Lord Wolfenden,"she answered quietly. "I am afraid he is right. We are wanderers, he andI, with no settled home."

  "I shall venture to hope," he said boldly, "that some day you will makeone--in England."

  A tinge of colour flashed into her cheeks. Her eyes danced withamusement at his audacity--then they suddenly dropped, and she caught upthe folds of her gown.

  "Ah, well," she said demurely, "that would be too great a happiness.Farewell! One never knows."

  She yielded at last to Mr. Sabin's cold impatience, and turning away,followed him down the staircase. Wolfenden remained at the top until shehad passed out of sight; he lingered even for a moment or twoafterwards, inhaling the faint, subtle perfume shaken from her gown--aperfume which reminded him of an orchard of pink and white appleblossoms in Normandy. Then he turned back, and finding Harcutt andDensham lingering over their coffee, sat down beside them.

  Harcutt looked at him through half-closed eyes--a little cloud of bluetobacco smoke hung over the table. Densham had eaten little, but smokedcontinually.

  "Well?" he asked laconically.

  "After all," Wolfenden said, "I have not very much to tell you fellows.Mr. Sabin did not call upon me; I met him by chance in Bond Street, andthe girl asked me to supper, more I believe in jest than anything.However, of course I took advantage of it, and I have spent the eveningsince eleven o'clock with them. But as to gaining any definiteinformation as to who or what they are, I must confess I've failedaltogether. I know no more than I did yesterday."

  "At any rate," Harcutt remarked, "you will soon learn all that you careto know. You have inserted the thin end of the wedge. You haveestablished a visiting acquaintance."

  Wolfenden flicked the end from his cigarette savagely.

  "Nothing of the sort," he declared. "They have not given me theiraddress, or asked me to call. On the contrary, I was given very clearlyto understand by Mr. Sabin that they were only travellers and desired noacquaintances. I know them, that is all; what the next step is to be Ihave not the faintest idea."

  Densham leaned over towards them. There was a strange light in hiseyes--a peculiar, almost tremulous, earnestness in his tone.

  "Why should there be any next step at all?" he said. "Let us alldrop this ridiculous business. It has gone far enough. I have apresentiment--not altogether presentiment either, as it is basedupon a certain knowledge. It is true that these are not ordinarypeople, and the girl is beautiful. But they are not of our lives!Let them pass out. Let us forget them."

  Harcutt shook his head.

  "The man is too interesting to be forgotten or ignored," he said. "Imust know more about him, and before many days have passed."

  Densham turned to the younger man.

  "At least, Wolfenden," he said, "you will listen to reason. I tell youas a man of honour, and I think I may add as your friend, that you areonly courting disappointment. The girl is not for you, or me, or any ofus. If I dared tell you what I know, you would be the first to admit ityourself."

  Wolfenden returned Densham's eager gaze steadfastly.

  "I have gone," he said calmly, "too far to turn back. You fellows bothknow I am not a woman's man. I've never cared for a girl in all my life,or pretended to, seriously. Now that I do, it is not likely that I shallgive her up without any definite reason. You must speak more plainly,Densham, or not at all."

  Densham rose from his chair.

  "I am very sorry," he said.

  Wolfenden turned upon him, frowning.

  "You need not be," he said. "You and Harcutt have both, I believe, heardsome strange stories concerning the man; but as for the girl, no oneshall dare to speak an unbecoming word of her."

  "No one desired to," Densham answered quietly. "And yet there may beother and equally grave objections to any intercourse with her."

  Wolfenden smiled confidently.

  "Nothing in the world worth winning," he said, "is won without aneffort, or without difficulty. The fruit that is of gold does not dropinto your mouth."

  The band had ceased to play and the lights went out. Around them was allthe bustle of departure. The three men rose and left the room.