CHAPTER XXIV
AN EXPLANATION
Morn came. They had heard or seen nothing of the prince and his men. Mr.Heatherbloom walked back for a cold plunge in a stream that hadwhispered not far from their camping spot throughout the night. He andBetty Dalrymple breakfasted together on an old log; it wasn't much of ameal--a few crackers and crumbs that were left--but neither appeared tomind the meagerness of the fare. With much gaiety (the dawn seemed tohave brought with it a special allegrezza of its own) she insisted upona fair and equitable division of their scanty store, even to theapportioning of the crumbs into two equal piles. Then, prodigal-handedfor a castaway who knew not where her next meal might come from, shetossed a bit or two to the birds, and was rewarded by a song.
All this seemed very wonderful to Mr. Heatherbloom; there had neverbefore been such a breakfast; compared to it, the _dejeuner a lafourchette_ of a Durand or a Foyot was as starvation fare. It wassurprising how beautiful the dark places of the night before looked now;daylight metamorphosed the spot into a sylvan fairyland. Mr.Heatherbloom could have lingered there indefinitely. The soft moss wooedhim, somewhat aweary with world contact; she filled his eyes. The faintshadowy lines beneath hers which he had noted at the dawn had nowvanished; the same sun-god that ordered the forest flowers to lift theirgay heads commanded the rosebuds to unfold their bright petals on hercheeks. Her lips were as red berries; the cobwebs, behind, alight withsunshine, gleamed no more than the tossed golden hair. She had strivenas best she might with the last, not entirely to her own satisfactionbut completely to Mr. Heatherbloom's. His untutored masculine senserather gloried in the unconventionally of a superfluous tangle or two;he found her most charming with a few rents in her gown from branch orbrier. They seemed to establish a new bond of camaraderie, to makeblithe appeal to his nomadic soul. It was as if fate had directed herfootsteps until they had touched and lingered on the outer circle of hisvagabondage. Both seemed to have forgotten all about his excellency.
"Rested?" queried Mr. Heatherbloom.
"Quite," she answered. There was no trace of weariness in her voice."And you?"
"Ditto," he laughed. Then, more gravely, "You see, I fell asleep whilewatching," he confessed.
"I'm glad."
"You'd make a lenient commanding officer. Shall we go on?"
"Where?"
"I don't exactly know," he confessed.
"That's lovely." Then, tentatively, "It's nice here."
"Fine," he assented. There was no hardness in the violet eyes as theyrested on him. He did not pause to analyze the miracle; he onlyaccepted it. A moment he yielded to the temptation of the lotus-eaterand continued to luxuriate in the lap of Arcadia. Then he bestirredhimself uneasily; it was not sufficient just to breathe in the goldengladness of the moment. "Yes; it's fine," he repeated, "only you see--"
"Of course!" she said with a little sigh, and rose. "_I_ see you aregoing to be very domineering, the way you were yesterday."
"I? Domineering?"
"Weren't you?" she demanded, looking at him from beneath long lashes.
"I'm sure I didn't intend--" He stopped for she was laughing at him.They went on and her mood continued to puzzle him. Never had he seen herso blithe, so gay. She waved her hand back at the woodland spot."Good-by," she said.
Then they came upon the little town suddenly--so suddenly that bothappeared bewildered. Only a hillock had separated them from the sight ofit the night before. They looked and looked. It lay beneath an upwardsweep of land, in a cosy indenture of a great circle that swept fararound and away, fringed with cocoanut trees. Small wisps or corkscrewsof smoke defiled the blue of the sky; a wharf, with a steamer at theend, obtruded abruptly upon the curve of the shore. Mr. Heatherbloomregarded the boat--a link from Arcadia to the mundane world. He shouldhave been glad but he didn't seem overwhelmed at the sight; he stoodvery still. He hardly felt her hand on his sleeve; the girl's eyes werefull of sparkles.
"What luck!" he said at length, his voice low and somewhat more formal.
"Isn't it?" she answered. And drawing in her breath--"I can scarcely,believe it."
"It's there all right." He spoke slowly. "Come." And they went down. Acolored worker in the fields stared at them, but Betty nodded gaily, andasked what town it was and the name of the island. He told them, growingwonderment in his gaze. How could they be here and not know that; wherehad they come from? To him they were as mysterious as two visitantsfrom Mars. Regardless of the effect they produced on the dusky toilerthey walked on. The island proved to be larger than they had thought andcommercially important. They had, the day before, but crossed a neck ofit.
Soon now they reached the verge of the town and stood on its main arteryof traffic; the cobblestone pavement resounded with the rattling ofcarts and rough native vehicles. At a curb stood a dilapidated publicconveyance to which was attached a horse of harmoniously antique aspect.Miss Dalrymple got in and Mr. Heatherbloom took his place at her side.
"The cable office," said the girl briefly, whereupon a lad of mixedancestry began to whack energetically the protuberant ribs of the drowsysteed. It woke him and they clattered down the narrow way. Mr.Heatherbloom leaned back, his gaze straight ahead, but Betty Dalrymplelooked around with interest at the people of divers shades and hues,and, for the most part, in costumes of varying degrees of picturesqueoriginality. After having narrowly escaped running over a smallproportion of the juvenile colored population overflowing from oddlittle shops and houses, they reached the transportable zinc shed thatserved as a cable office. Here Miss Dalrymple indited rapidly a mostvoluminous message, paid the clerk in a businesslike manner, and,unmindful of his amazed expression as he read what she had written,tranquilly re-entered the carriage.
"Miss Van Rolsen will be relieved when she gets that," observed Mr.Heatherbloom mechanically. "It'll be a happy moment for her,"meditatively.
"And won't she be gladder still when she sees us?" answered the girlgaily.
The use of the plural slightly disconcerted Mr. Heatherbloom for themoment, but he dismissed it as an inadvertence. "Where now?" he asked.
"Where do you think?" with dancing eyes. "Shopping, of course.Fortunately I drew plenty of money before starting for California."
An hour or so later Mr. Heatherbloom sat with parcels in his arms andbundles galore around him. He accepted the situation gracefully; indeed,displayed an almost tender solicitude for those especial packages sheherself handed him.
"What next?" She had at length exhausted the somewhat limited resourcesof the thoroughfare.
"Drive to the best hotel," was her command. She laughed at the picturehe made, or at something in her own thoughts. She had unconsciouslyassumed toward him a manner in the least proprietary, but if he noticedhe did not resent it. They went faster; her voice was a low thread ofmusic running through an accompaniment of crashing dissonances. She worea hat now--the best she could find. He considered it most "fetching",but her thrilling derision overwhelmed his expression of opinion. Thoughthe way was so rough that they were occasionally thrown rather violentlyone against another, they arrived in high spirits at their destination,Mr. Heatherbloom having performed the commendable feat of preservingintact the parcels and bundles en route. In the "best hotel" they weregiven two rooms overlooking a courtyard redolent with orchids. The girlnodded a brief farewell to him from the threshold of her room.
"In about an hour, please, come back."
He did, brushed up and with shoes shined, as presentable as possible.She wore the same gown, but the sundry rents were mended and there hadoccurred other changes he could divine rather than define. He broughther information--not agreeable, he said. He was very sorry, but the nextboat for the United States would not call at the island for a fortnight.He expected her to show dismay, but she received the news withcommendable fortitude, if not resignation.
"I can cable aunt every day--so there can be no cause for worry--and shewill only be the more pleased when we actually do arrive."
Again the
plural! And once more that prophetic picture which includedMr. Heatherbloom within the pale of the venerable and austere Miss VanRolsen's jubilation. He looked embarrassed but said nothing. During thehour of his exclusion from Miss Dalrymple's company he had sallied forthon a small but necessary financial errand of his own. Francois hadplaced in the basket of biscuits a revolver, and this latter Mr.Heatherbloom, rightfully construing it as his own personal property inlieu of the weapon his excellency had deprived him of, had exchanged fora bit of cardboard and a greenback. The last named, reinforced by thesmall amount Mr. Heatherbloom had left upon reaching the _Nevski_ and ofwhich the prince had not deprived him, would relieve his necessities forthe moment. After that? Well, he would take up the problem presently; hehad no time for it now. This day, at least, should be consecrated toBetty Dalrymple.
He had an inkling that on the morrow he would see less of her; thegirl's story would get around. The American consul would call and tenderhis services. The governor, too, Sir Charles Somebody, whose palatialresidence looked down on the town from the side of the hill, might beexpected to become officially and paternally interested. The littlecable office, despite rules and regulations, could not long retain itsprodigious secret; moreover Mr. Heatherbloom, in an absent-mindedmoment, had inscribed Miss Dalrymple's name on the register, orvisitors' book. He recalled how the eyes of the old mammy, theproprietress, had fairly rolled with curiosity. No; he would not bepermitted long to have her to himself, he ruminated; better make themost of his opportunity now. Besides, his present monetary positionforbade his presence for more than a day or two at the "best hotel"; itsrates were for him distinctly prohibitive. The exigencies of financialdifferences would soon separate them; she could draw on Miss Van Rolsenfor thousands; he had but five dollars and twelve cents--or was itthirteen?--to his name.
He kept these reflections, however, to himself and continued to bask inthe sunshine of a fool's paradise. They rode, walked and explored. Theywent to the fruit and the flower market. He bought her a great bunch offlowers, and she not only took it but wore it. For a time he stepped onair; his flowers constituted a fine splash of color on the girl's gown.Her heart beat beneath them; the thought was as wine.
"Shall we?" They had partaken of tea (or nectar) in a small shop, andnow she paused before that most modern manifestation of a restlesscivilization, a begilded, over-ornamented nickelodeon. "Think of findingone of them way off here! Just as at home!"
"More extraordinary your wanting to go in!" he laughed.
"Why not? It will be an experience."
They entered; the place was half filled and they took seats toward theback. There were films, and songs of the usual character; it was verygay. Gurgles of merriment from Creoles and darkies were heard on allsides. They, too, yielded freely, gladly to its infection. HappyCreoles! happy darkies! happy Betty Dalrymple and HoratioHeatherbloom--heiress and outcast! There is a democracy in laughter; yondarky smiled at Miss Dalrymple, while Mr. Heatherbloom laughed withher, with them, and the world. For was she not near, right there by hisside? To Mr. Heatherbloom the tinsel palace had become a temple offelicity and wonder. Suddenly he started and his face changed.
"The Great Diamond Robbery," one of the films, was in progress, andthere, depicted on the canvas, amid many figures, he saw himself, themost pronounced in that realistic group. And Betty Dalrymple saw thesemblance of him, also, for she gave a slight gasp and sat more erect.In the moving picture he was running away from a crowd.
"Shall--shall we go?" The face of the flesh-and-blood Mr. Heatherbloomwas very red; he looked toward the door.
She did not answer; her eyes continued bent straight before her, and shesaw the whole quick scene of the drama unfolded. Then the street becamecleared, the fleeing figure had turned a corner as an automobile, notengaged for the performance, came around it and went by. A big car--herown--she was in it. She caught, like a flash on the canvas, a glimpse ofherself looking around; then the scene came to an end. Betty Dalrymplelaughed--a little hysterically.
"Oh," she said. "Oh, oh!"
He became, if possible, redder.
"Oh," she repeated. Then, "Why"--with eyes full of mingled tragedy andcomedy--"did you not explain it all that day, when--"
Of course she knew even as she spoke why he could not, or would not.
"You had cause to think so many things," he murmured.
"But that! How--how strange! I saw you, and--"
He laughed. "And the manager told me I was a 'rotten bad' actor! Thosewere his words; not very elegant. But I believed him, until now--"
"Say something harsh and hard to me," she whispered, almost fiercely. "Ideserve it."
The violet eyes were passionate. "Betty!" he exclaimed wonderingly.
"Do you call that harsh?" she demanded mockingly. "You--you should becross with me--scold me--punish me--"
"Well," he said calmly, "you haven't believed _that_, lately, anyhow."
"No; I just set it aside as something incomprehensible, not to bethought of, or to be considered any more. I believed in you, with all mysoul, since last night--a good deal before that, yes, yes!--in myinnermost heart! You believe me, don't you?"
He answered, he hardly knew what. Some one was singing _Put on Your OldGray Bonnet_. Her shoulder touched his arm and lingered there. "Oh, mydear!" she was saying to herself. The pianist banged; the vocalistbawled, while Mr. Heatherbloom sat in ecstasy.