CHAPTER XIX
A SAVED SITUATION
He waited impatiently for her return. Bessie, he knew, might be in one ofthe rooms just across the hall, but, though Bessie was a trump, he didnot go to look for her. The girl might come back at any moment--and hedid not wish to miss one instant of her presence.
Again he considered the miracle of her appearance in his life, and herejoiced that, from the first, he had been able to be of service to her.Those loving, trusting words that she had just spoken--how they glowed inhis heart! She had known that he would succeed! He could only think thatthe secret telegraphy of his love had sent her messages of confidence.
And yet he did not even know her name. The house was just such a one ashe might have imagined to be her home--beautiful, with the air of alonger family tradition than is commonly found in the MiddleWest--unobtrusive but complete. And the furnishings of the room in whichhe was standing were in quiet but perfect taste.
On a table near him lay a book. Mechanically he picked it up.
It opened at the fly-leaf. Something was written there--her name,perhaps.
He closed the cover without reading the inscription, conscious only of aline of writing in a feminine hand that might be hers or another's. No,he could wait. The name did not matter. She was his, and that was enough.
Near the book lay an empty envelope, addressed to--he averted his eyes.
He found himself wondering whether Poritol was still kneeling in thefield, and whether Maku was still running, and whether the Japaneseminister was still telling charming stories on the porch at Arradale.
And presently, when she came again, her face radiant, and said softly,"You have done a great thing, my dear"--when she said that, he could onlylook and look and thank Heaven for his blessedness.
"Where were the papers when you fooled me into leaving you?" she asked.
"Arima had them. It's quite a story, Girl, dear."
"Then, wait a little while," she interrupted; "we have permission to seethe papers signed."
A smile of mischief alone betrayed her recognition of his bewilderment.
Why should the signing be treated as a matter of such importance? It mustmean a great deal to her and hers. The hour was now about half-pasteleven, and he remembered that in a short time it would have been toolate.
She led him through the adjoining room and to the curtained doorway of alibrary--long, alcoved, shelved with books, and furnished with heavyleather chairs. In the center was a large table of polished mahogany,upon which rested a reading-lamp.
The glow of this lamp illuminated the forms and faces of a group ofserious-faced men--two seated, the others standing. In the golden light,with the dim background of shelves, surmounted here and there by a vaseor a classic bust, the group impressed Orme like a stately painting--atableau distinguished by solemn dignity.
"We are to remain here and keep very quiet," whispered the girl.
Orme nodded. His eyes were fixed on the face of a man who sat at thetable, a pen poised in his hand. Those strong, straight features--theeyes, with their look of sympathetic comprehension, so like thegirl's--the lips, eloquent in their calmness--surely this was her father.But Orme's heart beat faster, for the face of this man, framed in itswavy gray hair, was familiar. He seemed to know every line of it.
Where had he seen this man? That they had never met, he felt certain,unless, indeed, they had shaken hands in a casual and forgottenintroduction.
Or was he led into a feeling of recognition by the undoubted resemblanceof father to daughter? No, it could not be that; and yet this man, or hispicture--ah! The recognition came to Orme in a flash.
This was the magnetic face that was now so often appearing in thepress--the face of the great, the revered, the able statesman upon whomrested so great a part of the burden of the country's welfare. No wonderthat Orme recognized it, for it was the face of the Secretary of State!And the girl was his daughter.
Orme was amazed to think how he had failed to piece the facts together.The rumors of important international negotiations; the sudden but notserious illness of the Secretary; his temporary retirement fromWashington to Chicago, to be near his favorite physician--for weeks thepapers had been full of these incidents.
When South Americans and Japanese combined to hinder the signing ofmysterious papers, he should have realized that the matter was not ofprivate, but of public importance. But the true significance of theevents into which he had been drawn had escaped his logical mind. It hadnever occurred to him that such a series of plots, frequent though theymight be in continental Europe, could ever be attempted in a country likethe United States. And then, he had actually thought of little besidesthe girl and her needs.
He glanced at her now, but her gaze was fixed on the scene before them.The brightness of her eyes and her quickened breathing told him howintense was her interest.
Across the table from the Secretary of State sat a younger man. Hisbreast glittered with decorations, and his bearing and appearance had allthe stiffness of the high-born Teuton.
Of the men who stood behind the two seated figures, some were young, somewere old, but all were weighted with the gravity of a great moment. Ormeinferred that they were secretaries and _attaches_.
And now pens scratched on paper. The Secretary of State and the GermanAmbassador--for Orme knew that it must be he--were signing documents,apparently in duplicate, for they exchanged papers after signing andrepeated the action. So these were the papers which at the last hour Ormehad restored; and this was the scene which his action had madepossible--all for the sake of a girl.
And when the last pen-stroke had been completed and the seated men raisedtheir eyes and looked at each other--looked at each other with theresponsible glance of men who have made history--at that moment the girlwhispered to Orme: "Come," and silently he followed her back to the roomin which he had first awaited her.
"Oh, Girl," he whispered, as she turned and faced him, "Oh, Girl, I am soglad!"
She smiled. "Please wait for a moment."
When she had disappeared he repictured the scene they had just witnessed.With all its absence of pomp, it had left with him an impression thatcould never be effaced.
Again the girl appeared in the doorway, and leaning on her arm was herfather. Orme stepped forward. The Secretary smiled and extended his hand.
"Mr. Orme," he said, "we owe you much. My daughter has told me somethingof your experiences. You may be sure that I had no notion, when thisaffair began, that she would have to envelop herself and others in somuch mystery, but now that all has ended well, I can only be thankful."He seated himself. "You will excuse me; I am not quite strong yet,though, as I might say, very convalescent."
The girl was leaning on the back of her father's chair. "Tell father thestory, won't you, please?" she asked.
So Orme quickly narrated the series of events that began with his strollalong State Street the afternoon of the day before. "It doesn't soundtrue, does it?" he concluded.
"But the marked five-dollar bill will always be evidence of its truth,"said the girl; and then, with a suggestion of adorable shyness, "We mustgo and redeem that bill sometime."
The Secretary was pondering. He had listened with manifest interest,interrupting now and then with questions that helped to bring out salientpoints. At the report of the conversation between Alcatrante and theJapanese concerning the commissions on ships, he had leaned forward withespecial attention. And now, after a few moments of thought, he said:
"The Japanese minister we can handle. As for Alcatrante, I must see to itthat he is recalled--and Poritol."
"Poor little Mr. Poritol!" exclaimed the girl. "Do you think he is stillkneeling in that field?"
"Possibly," said Orme, smiling. "We will look to see when we go to redeemthe bill."
"I think, Mr. Orme," said the Secretary, "that I may fairly give you alittle clearer insight into the importance of the papers which yourescued for us. You have seen stories of the rumors of negotiations withs
ome foreign Power?"
"Yes," said Orme.
"But, perhaps you have not known of the secret but aggressive policywhich Japan has lately adopted toward us. The exchange of friendly notesa few years ago might as well not have occurred. If we had done nothingto check the tendencies in the Pacific, we should have been at war withinanother year. Only a complete understanding and definite agreement withsome strong nation could prevent hostilities. The Anglo-Japanese allianceeliminated Great Britain as a possible ally. There were reasons why itseemed inadvisable to turn to France, for an arrangement there wouldinvolve the recognition of Russian interests. Therefore, we sought analliance with Germany.
"The German Ambassador and myself drafted a treaty last month, with theproviso that it must be signed within a certain period which, as youknow, will expire within a few minutes. My illness followed, and with itthe necessity of coming to our home, here. I had expected to return toWashington last week, but as Doctor Allison forbade me to travel for awhile longer, I had the drafts of the treaty sent on, and urged theGerman Ambassador to pay me a long-deferred visit. He and his suite havebeen here several days, in mufti.
"Now, Mr. Orme, this treaty concerns two important relations--a justbalance of power in the Pacific and a just arrangement by which thecountries of South America can be made to live up to their obligations. Icannot go into details, and it will be some months before the treaty willbe made public--but Japan must not dominate our Pacific trade routes, andthe Monroe Doctrine must be applied in such a manner that it will notshelter evil-doers. You understand now why Alcatrante and the Japaneseminister were working together."
"It is quite clear," said Orme. "I don't wish you to tell me any morethan is advisable, but the Japanese minister said that, if the new treatyshould lapse, the German Government would not renew it."
"Very true," said the Secretary. "The German Ambassador is pleased withthe treaty. After it had been drafted, however, and after his homegovernment had agreed to the terms, Japan brought pressure to bear inGermany. The result of this Japanese effort--which contained acounter-proposition for the isolation of Russia--was that the GermanGovernment weakened--not to the point of disavowing the arrangement withus, but in the event of a redrafting of the treaty, to the adoption of aless favorable basis of negotiations, or, possibly, even to theinterposition of such obstacles as would make a treaty possible. You cansee how essential these papers were to us. There was not time to providenew copies, for the lost drafts carried certain seals and necessarysignatures which could not be duplicated on short notice."
"Did the German Ambassador know of the loss?" Orme was encouraged to askquestions by the Secretary's obvious desire to explain as fully as hecould.
"No one knew of it, Mr. Orme, excepting my daughter and myself--that is,no one besides the South Americans and the Japanese. It seemed wise tosay nothing. There were no secret service men at hand, and even if therehad been, I doubt if they would have acted as efficiently as you haveacted. The police, I know, would have bungled, and, above all else,publicity had to be avoided.
"As things have turned out, I am glad that Poritol set his burglar on uswhen he did; otherwise Maku would have got the treaty at the last moment.Alcatrante's desire to secure a diplomatic advantage over the Japanesewas really the saving of us."
The Secretary paused. His face lighted up with a rare smile. "Aboveeverything else, Mr. Orme, I thank you."
He arose and rang for a servant.
"And now," he continued, "I know you will excuse me if I return to myguests. My daughter will bring you in presently, so that we may have thepleasure of making you acquainted with them. And, of course, you willremain with us till to-morrow." He smiled again and went slowly from theroom on the arm of the servant.
Orme turned to the girl. Her face was rosy and her eyes were fixed on thearm of her chair.
"Girl, dear," he said, "I can hardly believe that it is all true."
She did not answer, and while he gazed at her, surprised at her silence,failing to understand her sudden embarrassment, Bessie Wallinghamappeared in the doorway and stood hesitant.
"Am I still not wanted?" said Bessie, roguery in her voice. "Sure, ye'llfind me a faithful servant. I minds me own business and asks noquestions."
The girl rushed over to her friend.
"Oh, Bessie," she cried, with a little laugh--"Oh, Bessie, won't youplease come in and--and----"
Orme began to understand. "And wait for us a little longer," he broke in.
Masterfully he led the girl out through the doorway to the hall.
Bessie Wallingham looked after their retreating figures. "Well? I never!"she exclaimed.
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