C. N. Williamson & A. N. Williamson: 30+ Murder Mysteries & Adventure Novels (Illustrated). Charles Norris Williamson
I suppose she couldn't. And as far as I'm concerned, I don't see why we shouldn't trust her as if she were one of ourselves; a nice, jolly little woman, with no harm in her. What motive could she possibly have for blocking our game?"
"What, indeed? But you know I said so to Roger, and he vowed he'd have nothing to do with it if any one knew except you and Madeleine Dalahaide and me. He wouldn't hear of poor Kate's being told, though I assured him one might trust her. It was all I could do to get him to promise us, anyway."
"How did you get him to, by the by? He poured whole cataracts of ice-water on the scheme at first."
"I—I—suppose I wheedled."
"Virgie! I'll bet you said you'd marry him if he'd go in with us!"
"I didn't—exactly say I wouldn't."
"Poor old Roger! Shall you be cad enough to chuck him afterward?"
"Oh, I couldn't do that. I shall be so grateful to him for this, that I shall feel no reward could be too great for him—that is, if we succeed. He is a dear, kind fellow, and I have often made him unhappy. I've always thought, somehow, that I should end by marrying him."
"Yet you've refused him three times."
"That was to put off the evil day."
"And you came jolly near accepting Loria."
"Did I really, do you think? It seems so long ago, I can hardly remember. Anyway, everything is different now."
"I'm with you there. By Jove, what a funny world it is! What will Roger say when he hears that Kate Gardiner is bent on going? If he consents to her being on board, I don't see why he should go on refusing to take Miss Dalahaide."
"That's not the same thing at all. One can never do things quite secretly. They always leak out. Already it has got into the papers somehow—I suppose through that stupid agent—that I have bought the Château de la Roche, and interest has been revived in the Dalahaide story. It's so unfortunate that people should begin to talk again just now! And then if, on top of all this, should come the news that we'd taken Madeleine Dalahaide off with us on a mysterious yachting expedition, what would be said? Roger is quite right."
"It seems cruel that she should be left out of it."
"It would be more cruel to have her in, and perhaps ruin everything. She feels that herself though, of course, it's hard. Still, think how awful for her if—we failed! But I will not think of that. There's no such word as fail!"
"According to Roger, there's no such word as success. He's absolutely hopeless, and is only going into the adventure to please you—to win you, perhaps. And, by Jove, it will be an adventure!"
"Tell me about the yacht you've heard of."
They went out together, walking among the pine trees surrounding the hotel; and meanwhile Kate Gardiner had driven into the bright little town of Mentone, with its background of mountains, its foreground of blue-green sea. In the neighbourhood of the shops, she sent away her victoria, which was to pick her up at Rumpelmayer's at five o'clock. She was charmingly dressed, and had secured ten pounds with which to buy an exquisite antique Italian watch which had taken her fancy a day or two before; never had there been so little need to worry about the future from a pecuniary point of view; still, Kate was not happy. She had lost interest in the watch, lost interest in her shopping expedition altogether, and was lingering outside the jeweler's wondering whether she should spend the ten pounds as she had planned or not, when a man's voice at her shoulder made her turn. It was the Marchese Loria; and Lady Gardiner noticed, as the sun streamed full into his face when he took his off hat, that he looked sallow and haggard.
He was staying at the Cap Martin also, but they had not seen each other that day, and now it struck Kate that he was surprisingly changed since the afternoon when they had so gaily ridden off to find the Valley of the Shadow. She was certain that, for some reason which puzzled her sorely, Loria had completely lost his chance with Virginia, and because his interests no longer threatened her own, she felt more friendly toward him. They both seemed to be rather left out in the cold, and she found herself suddenly sympathizing with the Italian.
He was quick to note the unusual cordiality of her smile, and was curious as to its motive, for Loria knew that Lady Gardiner was one of the few women who never act without one; and he had been fully aware that she did not favour his cause with Virginia Beverly.
"Has something in this window caught your fancy?" he inquired, stopping and joining her.
Kate pointed to a serpent belt, crusted with diamond scales, emerald-eyed, and having its open mouth lined with rubies. "Isn't that lovely?" she asked. "An antique, of course; everything is in this window. I daren't look at it. It's far beyond my means."
"I'm thinking of buying it myself," said Loria calmly. "I mean to give it to a woman I know, as a little souvenir of my gratitude for very great kindness."
"Lucky woman!" exclaimed Kate enviously, for she really wanted the diamond snake. "She must have done you some tremendous favour to have earned that."
"She hasn't done anything yet. But I hope she will. I hope very much that she will tell me certain things I'm anxious to know, and afterward help me, if necessary, to make use of the knowledge. I wonder if she will do it?"
There was now a meaning in his voice which could not be mistaken. Kate looked up quickly and met his eyes. For, a long instant they gazed at each other, then she said: "I think the woman would be foolish if she didn't."
"Will you come with me when I buy the thing?" asked Loria.
Kate smiled and flushed faintly through the white rose balm which gave an illusion of youth. They went in, and Loria asked to be shown the serpent belt from the window.
A very old man, an Italian, brought the glittering thing and laid it on a piece of black velvet, which he spread as a background on the counter.
"It is only two thousand francs," he announced, "and it has a history. Perhaps I am indiscreet to mention it, but it may add to the interest, and I see that the illustrious Signor is a countryman of my own. This jewel was an heirloom in a very ancient family; but great misfortunes overtook them some years ago. The heir was accused of crime, and banished for life to Noumea. They were forced to sell everything of value."
Loria was ghastly. With an instinctive gesture of horror, he pushed the velvet away, not touching the serpent and averting his eyes.
"Let us choose something else," he said hoarsely to Lady Gardiner. But she was merciless. He had as much as offered her the belt, and she would not give it up easily.
"There is nothing else half as pretty or quaint," she said. "I think this bit of history makes it all the more interesting."
Loria did not look again at the serpent glittering on its black velvet cushion, but, having hesitated for a barely perceptible space, he abruptly ordered the jeweler to send the belt to his hotel, where it would be paid for on delivery. Kate decided that, as she was in such a vein of luck, she would have the watch she fancied, and keep the Marchese while she made the purchase. Half maliciously she said to the shopkeeper: "I suppose this pretty thing has no such story as the other?"
"Rather strangely, madame has chosen another heirloom disposed of by the same family," returned the man, as he placed the old blue-enameled watch in a box filled with pink cotton. It seemed as if Fate persisted in linking them with these Dalahaides!
Loria did not speak, but Kate's observant eyes saw that the gloved hand nearest her closed tightly on the stick it held. A moment later she had paid for her purchase, and they were out in the street again.
"You look very down," she remarked. "I believe you must have been losing a lot at Monte, and that a little sympathy and good advice would do you good. I meant to go to Rumpelmayer's presently, but suppose we go now and have tea together?"
Neither he nor she had said in so many words that there was to be a bargain between them; but