"One never has enough! You women don"t understand. As long as you have all the amus.e.m.e.nt you crave, all the frocks you want, all the jewelry you covet, you think that is all there is to life."
She looked up at him reproachfully and seemed about to protest when he added hurriedly:
"Oh, I don"t mean you. I know you are not that kind of woman. You are more serious, more sensible. I mean the average society woman whose only concern in life is dress and show. We men have different aims, higher ambitions. I"m well to do, as the term goes. I have an income of over $100,000 a year, a splendidly appointed town house, a show place in the country. Above all I have the most adorable wife in all the world. Most men would be satisfied. I am not. I want still more.
I have the money craze, an uncontrollable l.u.s.t to pile up millions. My ambition is to wield the power that only the possession of vast wealth confers. The resources of this vast country are practically in the hands of half a dozen men. Merely by holding up a finger, these men could, to suit their own selfish ends, start a universal panic which might bring about a financial cataclysm, involving the whole world in disaster. I do not say they would use this power for evil, but they are in position to do so if it served their purpose. I want to have such power, only if I had it I would not use it for evil. I would use it for good. Conditions in the industrial world are very critical. We are rapidly approaching a crisis. In all countries the forces of labor and the forces of capital are lined up in silent, grim battalions. The poor are getting poorer; the rich are getting richer. The cost of living is going up beyond all reason. Why? Because the men who control the wealth of the world will it so. The system which is responsible for this must one day, sooner or later, give way to another and more humane system, still to be devised, which will enable the man who produces the wealth of the world at least to enjoy some of the fruits of his toil. Now it goes into the hands of the privileged few who use the power their money gives them to keep their less fortunate fellow men in servile subjection. I want to be rich, very rich, but I will use my wealth for good. With it I will help my fellow man rise from the mire. I will help him throw off the shackles with which conscienceless capitalism has fettered him. I want to be such a power for good. I want----"
The maid reentered the room.
"Francois is not in his room, m"m."
Kenneth gave vent to an exclamation of impatience. Turning to his wife, he asked:
"Where is he? Did you send him anywhere?"
Helen shook her head. Quickly she said:
"He"s never around except when he"s not wanted."
It was so seldom that his wife displayed irritation at any one that Kenneth looked up in surprise.
"He"s shopping, too, I suppose. You know there"s little time left and he has things to get ready the same as I have."
Helen made a gesture of disapproval. Quickly she said:
"I wish you were going with someone else, with anyone but that man. I never liked him."
Her husband laughed. Carelessly he replied:
"I know you never did and it"s the only instance since we"re married where I"ve found dear little wife to be absolutely unfair. Seriously, sweetheart, your baseless prejudice against Francois is unworthy of you. I can"t go without a servant of some kind. He"s an honest fellow and a faithful servant."
Helen shrugged her shoulders.
"I"m not so sure about that," she retorted quickly. "What do you know about him or his honesty? He"s a perfect stranger that blew in three months ago from nowhere. He had written recommendations which may be forged. You never took the trouble to look them up."
"Yes, I did. I asked Keralio about him."
Helen looked up in surprise.
"Signor Keralio? I didn"t know Francois was ever with him."
"He was with him nearly a year. Keralio warmly recommends him and says he is a very faithful fellow. He only left him because he objected to being compelled to practise sword-play with his master. One day Keralio"s foil slipped. Francois got a puncture and it made him nervous."
"No wonder I don"t like him. Like master, like valet--as the French say."
Her husband smiled.
"You are down on Keralio, aren"t you?"
"I detest him. How could any self-respecting woman like such a man?
His every glance is an insult. With his polished manners and sardonic smile he reminds one of Mephistopheles."
"I don"t fancy the fellow much myself, but I have to be polite to him.
As I told you, he"s in with the people who own that silver mine. I"ve found him useful."
"Don"t trust him," replied Helen warningly. "If he makes himself useful to you, depend upon it, he has some ulterior motive in view.
Now I know Francois was once with him I shall dislike him more than ever."
"Come--come dear," protested Kenneth, "that is carrying things too far.
Francois is quite a decent chap if you understand him--I find him faithful, discreet."
"Discreet!" echoed Helen mockingly. "I beg to differ."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you are blinded in the man. Discreet indeed! Only the other day I caught him at your desk reading a letter which you had left there."
"A letter?" exclaimed Kenneth, looking up in surprise. "What letter?"
"The letter from your agent at Cape Town, telling of the astonishing diamond find, and suggesting that an officer of the Company be sent out to bring home the big stone--the letter you read at the director"s meeting and which decided them to send you out there."
Kenneth bit his lip. Quickly he said:
"I"m sorry he saw that. It was careless of me to leave it around. Are you sure he was reading it?"
"He had a pencil and paper in hand and appeared to be copying from the letter. When he saw me, he crushed the paper up in his hand and turned away."
Kenneth gave an expressive whistle.
"The deuce you say! The fellow"s smarter than I took him to be. All the more reason why I should take him along with me. Then I"m sure he can"t tell tales out of school. I----. Hush, here he is!"
The door opened cautiously and there entered a man about thirty years of age, of medium height and slightly, even delicately, built. That he was a Frenchman was apparent even at a glance. The dark closely cropped hair, worn in the so-called pompadour or military style, the pale, saturnine features, the manner and general bearing all loudly proclaimed his Gallic nationality. His smooth shaven face showed a firm mouth with bloodless lips so thin as to be hardly perceptible.
His eyes, when they could be seen at all, were greenish in color, and small and restless as those of a ferret. He advanced into the room with the obsequious deferential manner which in all well-trained servants becomes second nature, moving across the thickly carpeted floor with the rapidity and noiselessness of a snake.
"Where have you been, Francois?" demanded Kenneth sharply.
The valet stopped short, as if struck by a blow, but he did not stand still. His nervous thin hands and lean body were in constant motion, although he did not stir from the one spot. In every involuntary movement and gesture there was something that suggested the feline.
When spoken to or given an order he replied respectfully and obeyed with alacrity, but when addressed he listened always with eyes averted.
This had always exasperated Helen. She could not recall him ever looking her straight in the face. For that reason alone, if, for no other, she disliked and distrusted him, thinking not unnaturally that a man, who is afraid to let his eyes meet another"s, must be plotting in his mind some treachery which he fears his direct gaze may betray. His furtive glances went quickly from master to mistress. Something in their att.i.tude, the suddenness with which they interrupted their conversation told him that they had been talking about him.
"Did you hear me?" demanded Kenneth again. "Where have you been? You knew there was this packing to be done."
The man"s eyes flashed resentfully, but he replied civilly:
"Oui, monsieur, but monsieur forgets. Monsieur told me I must go to ze tailor."
Kenneth"s frown disappeared. Yes, it was true. He had sent him to the tailor. Quick to make amends for an injustice, he said more amiably:
"That"s right. I had forgotten. What did they say?"