Jane Cable

  Following close upon Mrs. Cable's visit to his office in theafternoon, Bansemer presented himself at her home in the evening,urbane, courtly, but characteristically aggressive. Her action inbearding him in his den was not surprising, even though it mighthave been considered unusual. He had been well aware for some timethat she was sorely uneasy and that it was only a question of timewhen she would make the expected advances. Since the announcementof Jane's engagement Bansemer had been punctiliously considerate;and yet, underneath his faultless exterior, Mrs. Cable felt that shecould recognise the deadly poise of other intentions. She lived infear that they would spring upon her as if from the dark and thatshe would be powerless to combat them. Something stronger thanwords or even intuition told her that James Bansemer was not to beturned aside by sentiment.

  Driven at last to the point where she felt that she must knowhis intentions, she boldly ventured into his consultation room, atrembling but determined creature whose flesh quivered with chilldespite the furs that foiled the wintry winds. Elias Droom passedher on into the private room with a polite grin that set her teethon edge.

  She left the building fifteen minutes later, nursing a wild butforlorn hope that James Bansemer meant no evil, after all. Withouthesitation she told him plainly that she came to learn the precisenature of his attitude toward herself and the girl. Bansemer'sresentment appeared too real to have been simulated. He was almostharsh in his response to the inference. In the end, however, he wasa little less than tender in his efforts to convince her that shehad cruelly misjudged him. She went away with a chill in her heartdislodged, but not dissolved. When he asked if she and Mr. Cablewould be at home that night for a game of cards, she felt obligedto urge him to come. It was not until she was in the carriage belowthat she remembered that David Cable was to attend a big banquetat the Auditorium that night, and that Jane would be at the theatrewith friends.

  Bansemer smiled serenely as he escorted her to the door. "We willnot permit anything to happen which might bring misery to the twobeings so dear to us," he assured her at parting.

  Shortly after eight he entered the Cable home. He had gone toChicago Avenue beforehand to send a telegram East. From the cornerof Clark Street, he walked across town toward the lake, facing thebitter gale with poor grace. In Washington Place he passed two mengoing from their cab into the Union Club. He did not look at themnor did he see that they turned and stared after him as he buffetedhis way across Dearborn Avenue. One of the men was Bobby Rigby;the other, Denis Harbert of New York.

  "It's the same Bansemer," said Harbert as they entered the club."I'd know him in a million."

  At the Cables' a servant, on opening the door, announced that Mr.Cable was not at home.

  "Is Mrs. Cable at home?" asked Mr. Bansemer, making no effort tofind his cardcase.

  "Yes, sir," responded the servant after a moment's hesitation.Bansemer passed through the vestibule.

  "Say Mr. Bansemer, if you please."

  He removed his coat and was standing comfortably in front of theblazing logs in the library when she came down.

  "I thought the night was too dreadful for anyone to venture outunless--" she was saying as she gave him her hand.

  "A night indoors and alone is a thousandfold more dreadful than oneoutdoors in quest of good company," interrupted Bansemer. He drewup chairs in front of the fireplace and stood by waiting for herto be seated.

  "I had forgotten that Mr. Cable was to attend a banquet at theAuditorium," she explained nervously, confident, however, that hefelt she had not forgotten.

  "To be sure," he said. "This is the night of the banquet. I wasnot invited."

  "I tried to telephone to ask you to come to-morrow night. The stormhas played havoc with the wires. It is impossible to get connectionwith anyone." A servant appeared in the doorway.

  "You are wanted at the telephone, Mrs. Cable, Shall I say you willcome?"

  Flushing to the roots of her hair, the mistress of the house excusedherself and left the room. Bansemer leaned back in his chair andsmiled. She returned a few minutes later with a fluttering apology.

  "What a terrible night it must be for those poor linemen," she said."I remember what it meant to be a railroad lineman in the Westyears ago. The blizzards out there are a great deal more severe thanthose we have here, Mr. Bansemer. Just think of the poor fellowswho are repairing the lines to-night. Doesn't it seem heartless?"

  "It does, indeed. And yet, I daresay you've been scolding them bitterlyall evening. One seldom thinks it worth while to be merciful whenthe telephone refuses to obey. It's only a true philanthropist whocan forgive the telephone. However, I am grateful to the blizzardand happy. Fair weather would have deprived me of pleasure."

  "I am sorry Mr. Cable is not at home," she said quickly.

  "I doubt if I shall miss him greatly," said he.

  "He expects to leave early--he isn't well," she hastened to say."Don't you want to smoke?"

  "A cigarette, if you don't mind. By the way, where is my futuredaughter-in-law? Surely I may see her to-night."

  "She is at the theatre--with the Fernmores. Graydon is one of theparty. Didn't you know?" she asked suddenly.

  "I do remember it now. He left the apartment quite early. ThenI have Fernmore to thank for--we are alone." He leaned forward inhis chair and flicked the cigarette ashes into the fire, his blackeyes looking into hers with unmistakable intentness.

  "You assured me to-day that you would be fair," she said withstrange calmness, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

  "I am fair. What more can you ask?" with a light laugh.

  "Why did you say to-day that I had nothing to fear from you?" shedemanded.

  "You have nothing to fear. Why should you fear me? For twenty yearsyour face has not been out of my memory. Why should I seek to hurtyou, then? Why should I not rejoice in the tie that binds ourinterests--our lives, for that matter? Come, I ask if I am notfair?"

  Her face became pale, her heart cold. She understood. The maskwas off. He veiled his threat in the simplest words possible; thepurpose looked through with greedy disdain for grace.

  "I can offer no more than I offered to-day," she said.

  "Do you suppose I would accept money in payment for my son's peace ofmind?" declared Bansemer, with finely assumed scorn. "You offeredme ten thousand dollars. You will never know how that hurt me,coming from you. Money? What is money to me in an affair like this?I care more for one tender touch of your fingers than all the moneyin the world! You--and you alone, can mould every impulse in me.For half my life I have been hated. No one has given me a grain oflove. I must have it. For years you have not been out of my mind--Ihave not been out of yours."

  "Stop!" she cried angrily. "You have no right to say such thingsto me. You have been in my mind all these years, but oh, how I havehated you!"

  Like a flash, his manner changed. He had her in his power, and itwas not in his nature to permit his subjects to dictate to him.Craft and coercion always had been his allies; craft could not wina woman's heart, but coercion might crush it into submission. Itwas not like James Bansemer to play a waiting game after it hadbeen fairly started.

  "Now listen to me," he said distinctly. "You cannot afford to talklike that. You cannot afford to make an enemy of me. I mean whatI--"

  "What would you do?" she cried. "You have promised that nothingshall happen to mar the lives of our children. You have given meyour pledge. Is it worthless? Is it--"

  "I wouldn't speak so loud if I were you," said he slowly. "Thewalls have ears. You have much to lose if ears other than those inthe wall should hear what could be said. It would mean disaster.I know, at least, that you do not love David Cable--"

  "What! I--I worship my husband," she cried, her eyes flashing, herbosom heaving. "I love him better than anything else in all theworld. How dare you say that to me!"

  "Control yourself," he cautioned calmly. "Permit me to say you lovethe position he has given you. You love the pedestal on which youstand so insecurely. You would ra
ther hear his curse than to seethe hand of social ostracism raised against you. Wait! A word fromme and not only David Cable, but the whole world would turn againstyou."

  "I have committed no crime," she flared back at him, "I havedeceived my husband, but I have not dishonoured him. Tell the worldeverything, if you will."

  "It would be a luscious tale," he said with an evil laugh. "Theworld, which is wicked, might forget the fact that Jane is notDavid's daughter; but David would not forget that she is yours."

  "What do you mean?" starting from her chair.

  "I think you understand," he said deliberately.

  "My God, she is NOT my child!" she cried in horror. "You know sheisn't. You know the entire story. You--"

  "I only know that you brought her to me and that I did you a service.Don't ask me to be brutal and say more." She sank back and glaredat him like a helpless, wounded thing, the full force of his threatrushing in upon her.

  "You--you COULDN'T do THAT," she whispered tremulously.

  "I could, but I don't see why I should," he said, leaning closerto her shrinking figure.

  "You know it isn't true," faintly.

  "I only know that I am trying to save you from calamity."

  "Oh, what a beast you are!" she cried, springing to her feet. "Go!I defy you! Do and say what you will. Only go!"

  He rose calmly, a satisfied smile on his face.

  "I shall, of course, first of all, forbid my son to marry theyoung woman. It will be necessary for me to explain the reason toMr. Cable. I am sorry to have distressed you. Really, I had expectedquite a different evening, after your invitation. You can't blameme for misunderstanding your motive in asking me to come here whenyou expected to be utterly alone." His laugh was a sneer.

  "Poor--poor little Jane!" murmured the harassed woman, claspingher hands over her eyes; then suddenly she cried out: "What a devilyou are to barter with your son's happiness!"

  "I'll not mince matters," he said harshly. "You and I must understandeach other. To be perfectly frank, everything rests with you. Callme a beast if you like. As a beast I can destroy you, and I will."

  "You forget that I can go to my husband and tell him everything.He will hate me, but he will believe me," she said, facing him oncemore.

  "The world will believe me," he scoffed.

  "Not after I tell the world that you tried to blackmail me--thatyou have demanded fifty thousand dollars."

  "But I haven't made such a demand."

  "I can SWEAR that you have," she cried triumphantly. He glared ather for a moment, his past coming up from behind with a rush thatleft him nothing to stand on.

  "I am willing to run the risk of scandal, if you are, my dear,"he said after a moment, his hands clenched behind him. "It will bevery costly. You have much to lose."

  "I think," she said shrewdly, guessing his weakness even as he sawit, "that we can talk sensibly of the situation from now on. I amnot afraid of you."

  He looked at her steadily for a moment, reading her thoughts, seeingher trembling heart. Then he said drily:

  "I'll do nothing for a week, and then you'll send for me."

  The door in the vestibule opened suddenly and someone--aye, morethan one--came in from the outside. Mrs. Cable started to her feetand turned toward the library door. Bansemer was standing closeby her side. He turned to move away as David Cable stepped to thedoor to look in. Cable's coat collar was about his ears and he wasremoving his gloves. For a moment he stood motionless, gazing uponthe occupants of the room.

  Then, for the first time, there flashed before him the sharppoint of steel which was to pierce his brain later on with deadlysuspicion and doubt. There was no mistaking the confusion of Mrs.Cable and her visitor. It was manifest that they had not expectedhim to appear so unexpectedly. He remembered now that on two otheroccasions he had found Bansemer at his house, and alone with Mrs.Cable, but he had not regarded it as extraordinary. But there wasa startled look in her eyes to-night, an indecision in her greetingthat caused him to knit his brows and lift his hand unconsciouslyto his temple before speaking. He heard Bansemer say that he was justgoing, but that he would stay for a short chat about the banquet.Mrs. Cable turned to stir the fire with the poker, an unusual acton her part he was not slow to observe. The seed was sown.

  "I brought Bobby over from the club with me--and a friend, Frances,"he said, after asking Bansemer to sit down for a while. His keeneyes noted that her hand shook as she put the poker back into itsplace. As he walked into the hall to throw aside his coat, FrancesCable turned to Bansemer with a significant look, shaking her headin mute appeal for silence.

  Bobby Rigby came into the room, followed by a tall stranger, whomhe presented to Mrs. Cable. Bansemer, standing near the librarytable, caught a glimpse of the stranger's face as he took Mrs.Cable's hand. He started violently, unable at first to believe hiseyes. A chill ran through his frame and his expression changed fromwonder to consternation.

  "Mr. Bansemer, my friend, Mr. Harbert."

  "I have met Mr. Bansemer," said Harbert, with a cold stare straightinto the other's eyes. They were on opposite sides of the table.

  "In New York," said Bansemer firmly, his eyes unflinching intheir return. He noticed that Harbert's look was uncompromisinglyantagonistic, but that was to be expected. It troubled him, however,to see something like unfriendliness in Rigby's greeting.

  Harbert was the man who had fought him to rout in New York. Thiskeen, aggressive young barrister had driven him into a corner fromwhich he escaped only by merest chance. He knew James Bansemerfor what he was. It had not been his fault that the man crawledthrough a small avenue of technicalities and avoided the punishmentthat had seemed so certain. He had waged war bitterly against theblackmailer, and he missed complete victory by a hair's breadth.

  Feeling the strain of the situation, Rigby talked with earnestvolubility. He led the conversation into many lines--the war inthe Philippines, the banquet, the play which Jane and Graydon wereseeing. The thought of the play brought a shade of despair to hisbrow--pretty Miss Clegg was in the party with that "mucker" Medford.

  James Bansemer had been cold with speculation every instant of thetime; had felt that Harbert's condemning gaze had never left him.Apparently listening to the others, he found himself wondering whatHarbert's trip to Chicago signified. Gradually it dawned upon himthat his old-time foe was not through with his fighting. The lookin Rigby's eyes meant something, after all--and Rigby was Graydon'sbest friend! Harbert was in Chicago to act--and to act first! Thisthought shot into the man's brain like burning metal. It set everynerve afire. His nemesis had already begun his work. Before he leftthe Cable home that night he would be asking his host and hostesswhat they knew of one James Bansemer's past.

  As Bansemer arose to say good-night to the others, Harbert's eyesmet his with deadly directness.

  "Where are your offices, Mr. Bansemer?" asked the New Yorker. Therewas something significant in the question.

  "Mr. Rigby and I have offices in the same building," he replied."Will you come in and see me?"

  "I shall try," said the other.

  To have saved his life, Bansemer could not meet David Cable'squestioning eyes as he shook hands with him. Cable's hands werelike ice.

  Outside the house, in the whirling gale, the tall lawyer breathedeasier, but not securely. His brain was clogged with doubts, fears,prophecies--all whirling like mad around the ominous figure ofDenis Harbert.

  Suddenly, he stopped stockstill, the bitter scowl deepening in hiseyes. With an oath he turned abruptly and hurried in the oppositedirection. The time had come to make ready for battle. A few minuteslater, he was writing the note which created so much commotion inthe home of Elias Droom.

  CHAPTER XIII

  JANE SEES WITH NEW EYES