This was a phase I had never before seen--a lovely, natural young girl, perplexed, troubled, deeply wounded, ready to be guided, ready for reproof, perhaps even for that sympathy without which reproof is almost valueless.
She told me that Buckhurst came to her house here in Paradise early in September; that while in Paris, pondering on what I had said, she had determined to withdraw herself absolutely from all organized socialistic a.s.sociations during the war; that she believed she could do the greatest good by living a natural and cheerful life, by maintaining the position that birth and fortune had given her, and by using that position and fortune for the benefit of those less fortunate.
This she had told Buckhurst, and the rascal appeared to agree with her so thoroughly that, when Dr. Delmont and Professor Tavernier arrived, they also applauded the choice she made of Buckhurst as distributer of money, food, and clothing to the provincial hospitals, now crowded to suffocation with the wreck of battle.
Then a strange thing occurred. Dr. Delmont and Professor Tavernier disappeared without any explanation. They had started for St. Nazaire with a sum of money--twenty thousand francs, locked in the private strong-box of the Countess--to be distributed among the soldiers of Chanzy; and they had never returned.
In the light of what she had learned from me, she feared that Buckhurst had won them over; perhaps not--she could not bear to suspect evil of such men.
But she now believed that Buckhurst had used every penny he had handled for his own purposes; that not one hospital had received what she had sent.
"I am no longer wealthy," she said, anxiously, looking up at me. "I did find time in Paris to have matters straightened; I sold La Trappe and paid everything. It left me with this house in Paradise, and with means to maintain it and still have a few thousand francs to give every year. Now it is nearly gone--I don"t know where. I am dreadfully unhappy; I have such a horror of treachery that I cannot even understand it, but this ign.o.ble man, Buckhurst, is a.s.suredly a heartless rascal."
"But," I said, patiently, "you have not yet told me where he is."
"I don"t know," she said. "A week ago a dreadful creature came here to see Buckhurst; they went across the moor toward the semaph.o.r.e and stood for a long while looking at the cruiser which is anch.o.r.ed off Groix. Then Buckhurst came back and prepared for a journey. He said he was going to Tours to confer with the Red Cross. I don"t know where he went. He took all the money for the general Red Cross fund."
"When did he say he would return?"
"He said in two weeks. He has another week yet."
"Is he usually prompt?"
"Always so--to the minute."
"That is good news," I said, gayly. "But tell me one thing: do you trust Mademoiselle Elven?"
"Yes, indeed!--indeed!" she cried, horrified.
"Very well," said I, smiling. "Only for the sake of caution--extra, and even perhaps useless caution--say nothing of this matter to her, nor to any living soul save me."
"I promise," she said, faintly.
"One thing more: this conspiracy against the state no longer concerns me--officially. Both Speed and I did all we could to warn the Emperor and the Empress; we sent letters through the police in London, we used the English secret-service to get our letters into the Emperor"s hand, we tried every known method of denouncing Mornac. It was useless; every letter must have gone through Mornac"s hands before it reached the throne. We did all we dared do; we were in disguise and in hiding under a.s.sumed names; we could not do more.
"Now that Mornac is not even a p.a.w.n in the game--as, indeed, I begin to believe he never really was, but has been from the first a dupe of Buckhurst--it is the duty of every honest man to watch Buckhurst and warn the authorities that he possibly has designs on the crown jewels of France, which that cruiser yonder is all ready to bear away to Sagon.
"How he proposes to attempt such a robbery I can"t imagine. I don"t want to denounce him to General Chanzy or Aurelles de Palladine, because the conspiracy is too widely spread and too dangerous to be defeated by the capture of one man, even though he be the head of it.
"What I want is to entrap the entire band; and that can only be done by watching Buckhurst, not arresting him.
"Therefore, madame, I have written and despatched a telegram to General Aurelles de Palladine, offering my services and the services of Mr. Speed to the Republic without compensation. In the event of acceptance, I shall send to London for two men who will do what is to be done, leaving me free to amuse the public with my lions. Meanwhile, as long as we stay in Paradise we both are your devoted servants, and we beg the privilege of serving you."
During all this time the young Countess had never moved her eyes from my face--perhaps I was flattered--perhaps for that reason I talked on and on, pouring out wisdom from a somewhat attenuated supply.
And I now rose to take my leave, bowing my very best bow; but she sat still, looking up quietly at me.
"You ask the privilege of serving me," she said. "You could serve me best by giving me your friendship."
"You have my devotion, madame," I said.
"I did not ask it. I asked your friendship--in all frankness and equality."
"Do you desire the friendship of a circus performer?" I asked, smiling.
"I desire it, not only for what you are, but for what you have been--have always been, let them say what they will!"
I was silent.
"Have you never given women your friendship?" she asked.
"Not in fifteen years--nor asked theirs."
"Will you not ask mine?"
I tried to speak steadily, but my voice was uncertain; I sat down, crushed under a flood of memories, hopes accursed, ambitions d.a.m.ned and consigned to oblivion.
"You are very kind," I said. "You are the Countess de Va.s.sart. A man is what he makes himself. I have made myself--with both eyes open; and I am now an acrobat and a tamer of beasts. I understand your goodness, your impulse to help those less fortunate than yourself. I also understand that I have placed myself where I am, and that, having done so deliberately, I cannot meet as friends and equals those who might have been my equals if not friends. Besides that, I am a native of a paradox--a Republic which, though caste-bound, knows no caste abroad.
I might, therefore, have been your friend if you had chosen to waive the traditions of your continent and accept the traditions of mine.
But now, madame, I must beg permission to make my adieux."
She sprang up and caught both my hands in her ungloved hands. "Won"t you take my friendship--and give me yours--my friend?"
"Yes," I said, slowly. The blood beat in my temples, almost blinding me; my heart hammered in my throat till I shivered.
As in a dream I bent forward; she abandoned her hands to me; and I touched a woman"s hands with my lips for the first time in fifteen years.
"In all devotion and loyalty--and grat.i.tude," I said.
"And in friendship--say it!"
"In friendship."
"Now you may go--if you desire to. When will you come again?"
"When may I?"
"When you will."
XIV
THE PATH OF THE LIZARD
About nine o"clock the next morning an incident occurred which might have terminated my career in one way, and did, ultimately, end it in another.