Kitabı oku: «Annabel», sayfa 6
CHAPTER XIII
MY LADY IS GRACIOUS
The bustle and confusion of landing filled Will with eager joy. It is truly an experience of moment to any one, so it is not wonderful that our youth, fresh from a country town, should thrill with excitement at this first glimpse of a foreign land. But he did not lose his head, and managed to rescue his small trunk from the mass of baggage tumbled upon the quay and to get it transported to the railway station.
Then the train whirled him away, and with bustling Liverpool behind him he had mighty London to look forward to – the “City of Cities” in the eyes of all civilized humanity.
By dint of intelligent enquiry on shipboard he now knew exactly how to act. Once arrived at the terminal station he took a cab for the Savoy hotel, where Mr. Williams had requested him to take a room. He met with one disappointment, in finding that Mrs. Williams had not yet arrived, for according to her letter she should have been at the Savoy some days since, and Mr. Williams had cabled her to await there Will’s arrival.
However, there was nothing to do but await the lady’s appearance; so he went to his room, removed all traces of travel, and descended to obtain his first serene view of the world’s metropolis. He found a nearby restaurant, at which he dined most luxuriously, but grieved at sight of his bill. Dr. Meigs had impressed upon him the fact that Mr. Williams had millions at his disposal, and therefore his confidential agent’s expenses need not be in any way curtailed. Mr. Williams had himself informed the young man that so long as Will acted as his representative he must live in a style befitting his employer’s position in the world.
“Do exactly as you think I would do myself, were I making the trip in person,” he said.
So Will, although conscious of reckless extravagance from his own viewpoint, determined not to hesitate to spend Mr. Williams’s money freely in providing a respectable living; but it startled him to find how much was actually required to live in London in the same way that others did with whom he was constantly thrown in contact.
After dinner he decided to attend an opera, a species of entertainment he had never before witnessed; but he contented himself with a seat obtained for the most modest sum the bills quoted. Being extremely fond of music, and of a naturally artistic and appreciative mind, the inexperienced boy found in the opera a veritable fairyland, and his dreams that night were filled with fantastic creations called up by the gorgeous spectacle he had beheld and the ravishing strains of music he had listened to. He realized he was getting a tremendous lot of experience in a very sudden manner, and it kept him keyed up to a high pitch of nervous tension until he became more accustomed to the novelty of existence in a great city.
Next morning he enquired for Mrs. Williams again, only to find she had not yet arrived.
“She should have been here several days ago,” he said to the registry clerk, in an anxious voice.
“Where was she coming from, sir?” the man enquired.
“Paris, I believe.”
“Then I beg you not to worry,” returned the clerk, with a reassuring smile; “for most ladies find it a difficult matter to leave Paris, and frequently they linger there many days after they have planned to depart. Be patient, sir; and if the lady delays too long we will make enquiries for you in Paris.”
That relieved Will’s anxiety to an extent, for he could easily understand how a woman of Mrs. Williams’s temperament would be likely to forget she was overdue in London, so long as the charms of Paris amused her.
His instructions were to await her at this hotel, so he decided to give her three days more of grace, and if she did not then arrive to cable his employer for advice how to act.
Will knew, in a general way, what he most cared to see in London, for he was as intelligent as the average American high school boy, and although he had never in his wildest dreams expected to go abroad, had stored up a mass of general information that was now very useful to draw upon. So, with the aid of a guide-book, he found his way to the Tower, the House of Parliament, and Westminster Abbey, returning toward evening to his hotel with the uncomfortable feeling that should Mrs. Williams have arrived in his absence she would surely be annoyed by his neglect.
But the clerk met his enquiry with a shake of the head, and relieved his fears.
Next day he visited St. Paul’s and stood before the tombs of Wellington, Nelson and other great men whose names were familiar in history. And then he mounted the top of an omnibus and rode for miles through the busy thoroughfares, until the immensity of the city overpowered him, and half bewildered he returned to his hotel to rest and collect his thoughts. It was a famous opportunity for a boy like Will Carden, and I am glad he took advantage of those two days of waiting to gain experience that would furnish him with pleasant recollections in all the years to come.
That evening he saw Henry Irving enact King Lear, and learned a lesson he never forgot. When on the following morning he came down to the office, the clerk informed him that Mrs. Williams had telegraphed she would arrive at ten o’clock, so he need have no further anxiety.
He watched her arrival, with two maids, a mountain of trunks and a dozen servants impressed at the entrance to carry parcels, wraps and miscellaneous articles of all descriptions; but the sight deterred him from approaching her until she was settled in her suite of rooms.
Then he sent up a card and received an answer that Mrs. Williams would see Mr. Carden at one o’clock. The tedious wait made him nervous and disconcerted, so that when the important hour arrived and he was shown to the great lady’s apartments he realized that he was not likely to create a very favorable impression.
Nor did he.
Mrs. Williams was reclining upon a couch, but she arose languidly and examined him through a little eye-glass, saying afterward in mincing tones:
“Dear me! Isn’t it the vegetable boy?”
“Yes’m,” said Will, shame-faced and awkward.
“I have been wondering whom it could be that Mr. Williams cabled would meet me here. The name was unknown to me. What are you, a valet?”
“Hardly that, madam,” replied Will, with a hearty, boyish laugh; and I think that laugh must have made a favorable impression upon the lady, for she lowered her eye-glass and murmured:
“I have been from home so long that I am ignorant of present conditions there. But you seem to have grown bigger, and – and – older.”
“Naturally, madam,” said he; and then he added, with an assumption of such dignity as he could command under the circumstances: “I have the honor to be your husband’s confidential agent, abroad upon business matters. For this reason Mr. Williams thought it best that I should meet you here and offer such services as I may be able to render you.”
“To be sure,” she said, musingly; “and it was very thoughtful of him. If I remember rightly, you were the boy that carried Annabel home the day she fell into the pond.”
He bowed.
“I am glad to see, Mrs. Williams, that you seem to have quite recovered your good health,” he observed, to get away from the subject.
“Not quite, sir,” she answered, in a more cordial tone; “but I am much better than when I first came from America. Won’t you sit down?” noting that he was still standing. “And now, please tell me how you left my children. Were they well? Are they growing? Really, I shall be glad to see them again after this long separation.”
Will had his own ideas about the interest the woman took in her children; but it was a subject very interesting to him personally, so he chatted away in his usual bright manner, relating the progress of his friends and playmates and adding such gossip of Bingham as he thought might interest his listener.
And Mrs. Williams began to approve more and more the pleasant young man before her.
“Are you returning home with me?” she asked, presently.
“I’m afraid not. I have business in Birmingham that may detain me for some time,” he replied.
She seemed really disappointed.
“I hate London,” said she, wearily, “so I shall take the first steamer home. You will look it up for me, tomorrow, and make arrangements?”
“With great pleasure, madam.”
“And you must dine with me this evening. I will meet you in the pink salon at half-past seven, and we will go to the main restaurant.”
“Thank you, madam,” he said, filled with a sense of depression at the very idea of dining with the great lady.
As he rose to go she added, as if by an afterthought:
“You will, of course, appear in full dress, Mr. Carden. Until then, au revoir.”
With a bow he was dismissed, and as he stumbled into the hall and the maid closed the door behind him, he remembered that a full-dress suit was something he did not possess. Really, he ought to go back and tell her so; but the very thought of doing this made him panic-stricken, and instead he went down stairs to get some luncheon and think over his predicament.
CHAPTER XIV
A DINNER IN A DRESS SUIT
On his way Will passed the ladies’ restaurant, and noted the handsome toilets of its occupants with something of a shock. Mrs. Williams would doubtless be elaborately gowned that evening, and of course he ought to be in full dress also. What an absurd situation to confront a poor country boy, who had been so proud of the new suit the Bingham tailor had provided him with! Will Carden in a “swallow-tail!” The very thought made him smile – and then shudder. Whatever should he do?
The gentlemen’s lunch room was rather full, but the courteous usher asked permission of a guest who sat at a small table in one corner, and then seated Will opposite him.
The gentleman was reading a newspaper, and merely glanced at the new arrival. Will could see that he had a big, impressive figure, a close-cropped beard of iron gray, and an expression upon his face that was grave yet kindly.
Having made this cursory inspection, he gave his simple order to the waiter and then relapsed into moody abstraction. That dreadful dress-suit haunted him like some malignant demon. If he made an excuse to cancel the engagement Mrs. Williams would be offended; if he appeared in his ordinary clothes she would be more offended still. And now that she had begun to treat him with some slight consideration he disliked to do anything to forfeit her respect or good will.
“Something disagreeable, sir?” asked a pleasant voice.
The gentleman had lain down his paper and was engaged in eating his luncheon. As he spoke he glanced at Will with a smile, which the boy returned, feeling rather ashamed of his depression because of so trivial a matter.
“Something quite disagreeable, as you observe, sir,” he answered.
“You are an American?”
“Yes, sir. And you?”
A shadow crossed the gentleman’s face.
“Formerly I lived in the States. But I am quite English, now, although I have never ceased to love my native land. That is why I ventured to speak to a young man who is so evidently an American. Can I be of any assistance to you?”
Will laughed.
“To be frank with you, my tribulation is caused merely by a lack of a dress suit,” said he. “I must dine with a lady – a very ‘swell’ lady, sir – tonight, and I possess only the clothes you behold.”
“You have lost your baggage?”
“No, sir; I never have owned a dress suit. Indeed, these are the best clothes I have, and had not the lady asked me to dine with her I should have considered them equal to all my requirements.”
“What part of America are you from?”
“A little town called Bingham.”
The man gave a sudden start, and moved his lips as if about to speak. But no words came, and closing his jaws firmly together, as if to repress the impulse, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at Will with a look that was more pathetic than curious.
The boy scarcely noticed the interruption. He rambled on, explaining that he was sent abroad on business by a Mr. Williams, and was only staying in London to see the wife of his employer aboard the steamer on her way home. It was cruel, he protested, for her to ask him to dine with her in a fashionable hotel, knowing as she did his station in life, and still more cruel to ask him to appear in a dress suit.
Of all this, and much more, he talked as he ate his luncheon, and the gentleman listened in grave silence, but most attentively.
After the meal was finished he asked:
“Have you money?”
“Yes, sir; plenty.”
“Then I believe I shall be able to relieve your embarrassment, if you will walk with me a few doors down the street.”
“I shall be very grateful, sir.”
The gentleman arose to leave the café, and Will noticed that the waiters and ushers all bowed with profound deference as he passed out. But that was not singular. The most careless observer could not fail to be impressed by his new friend’s dignified bearing.
On the street he nodded to several acquaintances and tipped his hat gracefully to a lady who rode by in a handsome equipage. Will was quite proud of his companion, who was evidently a person of importance.
But now they turned into a fashionable tailor shop, and the proprietor was bowing and scraping most humbly before the gray-haired gentleman, who beckoned him aside.
Will did not hear the conversation that ensued, but the tailor rubbed his hands together complacently and nodded so often that the boy wondered he did not dislocate his neck.
“He will fit you out, all right, and send you the suit in ample time,” said the gentleman, returning to Will’s side. “And now, if there is no way I can be of further assistance to you, permit me to bid you good day.”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
With a smile and nod the man was gone, and now the obsequious tailor was inviting him to stand upon a pedestal to be measured. Evidently the fellow had received definite instructions what to do, for he asked no questions except where to send the clothes, and declared again and again that they would be delivered by six o’clock.
Will passed the rest of the afternoon looking up steamship offices and enquiring about sailings to New York. Mrs. Williams had said he could do this tomorrow, but he preferred to attend to the matter at once. He finally selected a steamer that sailed the next Saturday, which would give the lady ample time to prepare for the trip, and having made the booking he returned to his hotel to await with considerable anxiety the approach of the eventful evening.
At six o’clock a large parcel was delivered to his room, and upon opening it he found not only his new full-dress suit, but the accompanying linen, the proper tie, and everything else that he might need. His chance acquaintance had proved a veritable magician, for even to one of Will’s inexperience it was evident such an outfit could only be procured upon short notice by means of considerable influence.
The bill that lay in the bottom of the box startled him at first; but, had he known it, it was remarkably small for the amount and quality of the goods it covered.
From his observations during the voyage across, and his three days in London, Will Carden was not ignorant of what was required in society in the way of evening dress, and the outfit before him permitted little chance of mistake. He dressed himself very carefully, finding that each article fitted admirably; and when all was accomplished he spent several minutes gazing wonderingly at his own reflection in the long mirror.
He reached the pink salon a little ahead of his engagement, and Mrs. Williams was a little behind hers; so the interval gave him time to regain his composure. He found several gentlemen present who were dressed exactly like himself, and that made him feel almost at ease by the time Mrs. Williams appeared.
She wore a handsome evening dress of black net trimmed with jet, and many brilliant gems sparkled upon her neck and hands. After the first enquiring glance at her escort she smiled approvingly, for Will looked very proper and handsome in her critical worldly eyes and it was an agreeable experience to have a nice looking young man at her side.
They found a small table awaiting them in the restaurant, where the scene was so brilliant that it filled our youth with surprise. Handsomely gowned ladies were present in profusion, and the soft glow of the rose-shaded lights on rich glass and napery made a beautiful picture not easily forgotten by one unaccustomed to such luxuries.
Will noticed, as he seated himself, that at a neighboring table his friend of the afternoon was dining with two male companions, all in prescribed evening dress. The gentleman saw him, and returned his bow with a pleasant smile.
Mrs. Williams maintained a flow of social small talk that Will was scarcely able to understand, and surely could make little reply to. But she did not seem to expect him to converse, except in monosyllables, so he assumed an air of respectful attention to her remarks and let his thoughts and eyes wander amid his novel surroundings. He neither knew nor cared what food was being served, for he seemed to be in a fairyland, and the merry hum of voices, the soft strains of music, the silent rush of the waiters and the atmosphere of sensuous comfort pervading the magnificent arched room all tended to bewilder his mind and render him indifferent to the commonplace occupation of eating.
Presently a lady detached herself from a group of diners and came to their table to greet Mrs. Williams, who seemed to be an old acquaintance. After acknowledging Will’s polite bow on his introduction the lady ignored him and seated herself in a vacant chair beside Mrs. Williams, beginning a brisk conversation which soon drifted into gossip about those present.
“I suppose you know very few of our London notables,” she said, “having passed so much of your time on the Continent. The lady in lavender at the third table to your right is the Duchess of M – ; and just behind her is Lady Mary K – , whose divorce suit you have doubtless read of. And do you see those gentlemen at a table by the pillar yonder? They are well worth attention. The one with the moustache is Prince Von D – , and the plain-faced man is Mr. Ashkam, the great London banker. The third, with the gray hair and beard, is the head of the Atlas Steel works, the famous John Carden, who is reputed one of the wealthiest manufacturers in the United Kingdom. Next to them – ”
Will’s fork fell from his hand, clattering against his plate with a sound so startling that it attracted many eyes in his direction.
Trembling violently, and with a white face, he was staring at the man pointed out as John Carden, who returned the look with astonishment.
“Excuse me – I – I am ill – I cannot stay here!” he stammered, in a low voice; and rising hurriedly, regardless of Mrs. Williams’ shocked expression, he staggered from the room.
The gentleman hastily followed. He found Will in the dimly lighted ante-room, where the boy stood wringing his hands in an agony of nervous excitement. Seeing the man he rushed toward him at once, saying:
“John Carden! Are you really John Carden?”
“Yes.”
“John Carden of Bingham?”
“Yes,” repeated the other, seizing Will’s outstretched hands; “once of Bingham.”
“Then I am your son!” cried the boy, with a sob. “I am Will Carden.”
CHAPTER XV
ANNABEL MAKES A DISCOVERY
When Mary Louise, Annabel and Theodore came home for the summer vacation there was genuine disappointment to all in finding Will Carden absent from Bingham. But I think none missed him so sincerely as Annabel.
She drove over to see Mrs. Carden and Flo and chatted with them for an hour; but it was not until she found time to be alone with her father, “for one of our good talks, daddy,” that she learned the truth about Will’s mission abroad. In that connection Mr. Williams was obliged to tell her something of his suspicions of Mr. Jordan, and the girl listened earnestly to all he said.
“I never did like the man, dear,” she declared; “nor does Will like him, although Mr. Jordan was so good to his dead father. But why don’t you force the secretary to tell you the real secret of the process, when you are entitled to it?”
“I mean to, when the proper time comes,” was the reply. “But I cannot get rid of the idea that Jordan has some other object than to withhold this knowledge.”
“I suppose he thinks that as long as you are ignorant of the real secret of the process you cannot discharge him, or stop the payment of his royalties,” she said, musingly.
“The secret is no longer so important as it was formerly,” said Mr. Williams, somewhat gloomily. “That Birmingham discovery worries me more than I can explain. The English steel is even a better grade than my own, and if its makers choose to invade this country their competition would seriously affect my business, and might even ruin it.”
“I’m sure Will can find out all you wish to know,” she returned. “Don’t fret, papa. Let us wait until he gets back.”
Shortly after this conversation the manufacturer met Doctor Meigs, who asked:
“How is Jordan conducting himself these days?”
“Rather strangely,” said Mr. Williams. “I sometimes think he’s getting ready to run away.”
“Think so?”
“Yes. I have paid the fellow over a hundred thousand dollars in royalties, and this money, which has been accumulating in the same bank in the city that I myself use, and am also a director of, has suddenly been withdrawn and placed elsewhere.”
“Where?”
“I do not know.”
“Perhaps he has invested it.”
Mr. Williams shook his head, doubtfully.
“Then, during the last few weeks,” he continued, “he has been nervously rushing out our orders and getting the goods delivered, when there is no need at all of haste.”
“Why?”
“Because as soon as delivery is made he is entitled to his royalty, which he draws promptly, and sends away. It looks to me as though he is trying to get together all the money he can, and then skip out.”
“But why should he do that?” enquired the doctor, who was plainly puzzled by this statement.
“I can’t explain it, unless that foreign competition has frightened him. Ever since we had that conversation in my office, at which you were present, Jordan has been a different man. Little things seem to startle him, whereas he used to be the coolest man I ever met. He looks up sharply at every one who enters the office, and gets very irritable over small things that never before annoyed him. I’ve been watching him closely, you see.”
“Could he possibly know we have sent Will to England?”
“I believe that secret is safe. Only Mrs. Carden knows it, and she would never betray it to Jordan, you may be sure.”
“What will you do?” asked the doctor.
“Keep an eye upon him, and if he attempts to get away hold him until he tells me truly the secret of the process that he sold me. Otherwise he is free to go wherever he pleases.”
“Have you heard from Will?”
“No, and it is rather strange that I have not. He has cabled me that Mrs. Williams will arrive on the Baltic, which is due in New York next week; but he said not a word about himself or the business matters on which he is engaged.”
“Perhaps there is nothing yet to say,” suggested the doctor, and with a handshake the friends parted.
On Sunday afternoon Annabel asked her father to join her in a walk, as the day was delightfully pleasant. He agreed at once, and they strolled along the lanes until they came to the Carden house, where they stopped for a little visit with Will’s mother. Mrs. Carden had greatly improved in health since being relieved of so much of the drudgery of housework, and the increased prosperity of the family fortunes had rendered her brighter and more cheerful than of old. Possessed of an excellent education and much native refinement of manner, Mrs. Carden had formerly been one of the most popular women in Bingham, and although her husband’s tragic loss had greatly embittered her life during the past dozen years, she was gradually resuming her natural sweetness and charming personality.
So both Annabel and her father passed a pleasant hour at the house, and then started on to resume their walk.
“Let us go by the grove,” said the girl. “It’s Mr. Jordan’s favorite walk, and Will says he never misses an evening unless there’s a hurricane to stop him.”
“And hurricanes are uncommon,” added her father, smiling. “Well, it looks cool and pleasant under the trees, so we’ll walk that way. But why do you suppose Mr. Jordan takes such long journeys every evening?”
“For exercise, I imagine. Will says he starts right after supper and tramps a good five miles. And when he gets back he shuts himself in his room and sees no one until morning.”
“A strange man,” said Mr. Williams, musingly; “and either extremely simple or extremely shrewd. I can’t decide which.”
There was little other conversation between the two until they reached the grove; but as they passed between the great trees Annabel suddenly said:
“Do you know, papa, I almost suspect Mr. Jordan is crazy?”
“No; why do you think that?”
“Because he does such funny things. I remember Will’s telling me once about a queer thing that happened in this very grove.”
“What was it?” asked her father, absently.
“Mr. Jordan used to stop at a certain tree, and after looking around to find out if anyone was near he would pass his hand swiftly up and down the bark of the tree, as secretly as if he were committing some crime.”
Mr. Williams turned to gaze upon his daughter’s face with wonder.
“Then,” said Annabel, “he would come back to the path, and resume his walk.”
“Which tree was it?” asked her father, earnestly.
“Why, I think I can find it, for twice Will has pointed it out to me when we were walking here. Let me see. Here is the turn in the path – and here is where Mr. Jordan always stopped * * * and there – no, not that one – the big oak just beside it * * * that’s the very tree, papa! Will once found the tracks of Mr. Jordan’s feet in the snow, where he’d walked up to it. Isn’t it funny?”
Mr. Williams shook his head. There was a puzzled expression upon his face. He stared at the tree for a time as if in a brown study. The incident just related was singular enough to be interesting, but the old oak was just like a dozen other oaks that stood around. Why should Mr. Jordan pay especial attention to that particular tree?
“Where are you going, papa?”
“I’m going to examine the tree more closely.”
He walked straight up to it, and stood minutely examining the bark. Then he passed his hand over it.
“Higher up,” said Annabel. “He used to feel about on a level with his head, Will told me, and he’s taller than you are, papa.”
Mr. Williams touched the bark higher up, and looked mystified. Surely there had been no reason for Mr. Jordan’s action. Perhaps the man was mad, after all, and this was one of his crazy notions.
Wait a moment though! Wasn’t that a crack in the rough bark? Mr. Williams took out his pocket knife, and inserted the blade into the crack. Yes, the bark had separated slightly at this point. He followed the line with his knife blade, with growing excitement. It zig-zagged this way and that, keeping first to the right, then upward almost as far as he could reach, then to the left on almost a straight line; then down again to the starting point.
Mr. Williams withdrew the blade and took a long breath.
“That square of bark is separate from the rest,” he said.
“How odd!” answered Annabel, her eyes bigger than usual.
Her father looked around, and espied an old root lying near. He dragged this over to the tree, and standing upon it was able to place his face close to the bark.
Then he indulged in a low whistle, for he had discovered a blackened screw-head half hidden by the roughness of the surface. Again he drew out his pocket-knife and deliberately snapped one of the blades in half. With this improvised screw-driver he set to work, and shortly had the screw removed.
Mr. Williams had been a mechanic in his younger days. He knew just what to do under the present circumstances.
Annabel watched him with an interest that became more intense every moment.
He found a second screw, and removed it; a third, and then a fourth. With this the piece of bark came away in his hand, revealing a hollow cavity in the tree behind it.
Mr. Williams took out his handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. Then he thrust his hand into the cavity, and when he withdrew it he was clutching a bundle of papers, tied together with a cotton cord.
