"Let me get some witch-hazel," said Sacharissa, rising.
"I want to write a telegram first," he said.
So she brought some blanks, pa.s.sed them and a pencil down to him through the grille, and reseated herself.
VII
THE INVISIBLE WIRE
_In Which the Telephone Continues Ringing_
When he had finished writing he sorted out some silver, and handed it and the yellow paper to Sacharissa.
"It"s dark in here. Would you mind reading it aloud to me to see if I"ve made it plain?" he asked.
"Certainly," said Sacharissa; and she read:
MRS. DELANCY COURLAND,
Tuxedo.
I"m stuck in an idiotic elevator at 1008-1/2 Fifth Avenue. If I don"t appear by New Year"s you"ll know why. Be careful that no reporters get hold of this.
KILLIAN VAN K. VANDERDYNK.
Sacharissa flushed deeply. "I can"t send this," she said.
"Why not?" demanded the young man, irritably.
"Because, Mr. Vanderdynk, my father, brother-in-law, married sister, and three younger sisters are expected at the Courlands". Imagine what effect such a telegram would have on them!"
"Then cross out the street and number," he said; "just say I"m stuck in a strange elevator."
She did so, rang, and a servant took away the telegram.
"Now," said the heir apparent to the Prince Regency of Manhattan, "there are two things still" possible. First, you might ring up police headquarters and ask for aid; next, request a.s.sistance from fire headquarters."
"If I do," she said, "wouldn"t the newspapers get hold of it?"
"You are perfectly right," he said.
She had now drawn her chair so close to the gilded grille that, hands resting upon it, she could look down into the car where sat the scion of the Vanderdynks on a flimsy Louis XV chair.
"I can"t express to you how sorry I am," she said. "Is there anything I can do to--to ameliorate your imprisonment?"
He looked at her in a bewildered way.
"You don"t expect me to remain here until after New Year"s, do you?" he inquired.
"I don"t see how you can avoid it. n.o.body seems to want to work until after New Year"s."
"Stay in a cage--two days and a night!"
"Perhaps I had better call up the police."
"No, no! Wait. I"ll tell you what to do. Start that man, Ferdinand, on a tour of the city. If he hunts hard enough and long enough he"ll find some plumber or locksmith or somebody who"ll come."
She rang for Ferdinand; together they instructed him, and he went away, promising to bring salvation in some shape.
Which promise made the young man more cheerful and smoothed out the worried pucker between Sacharissa"s straight brows.
"I suppose," she said, "that you will never forgive my maid for this--or me either."
He laughed. "After all," he admitted, "it"s rather funny."
"I don"t believe you think it"s funny."
"Yes, I do."
"Didn"t you want to go to Tuxedo?"
"I!" He looked up at the pretty countenance of Sacharissa. "I _did_ want to--a few minutes ago."
"And now that you can"t your philosophy teaches you that you _don"t_ want to?"
They laughed at each other in friendly fashion.
"Perhaps it"s my philosophy," he said, "but" I really don"t care very much.... I"m not sure that I care at all.... In fact, now that I think of it, why should I have wished to go to Tuxedo? It"s stupid to want to go to Tuxedo when New York is so attractive."
"Do you know," she said reflectively, "that I came to the same conclusion?"
"When?"
"This morning."
"Be-before you--I----"
"Oh, yes," she said rather hastily, "before you came----"
She broke off, pink with consternation. What a ridiculous thing to say!
What on earth was twisting her tongue to hint at such an absurdity?
She said, gravely, with heightened color: "I was standing by the window this morning, thinking, and it occurred to me that I didn"t care to go to Tuxedo.... When did you change _your_ mind?"