In Her Own Right

XI

ELAINE CAVENDISH

“May we have seen the last of you!” said Macloud, as the buggy disappeared among the trees; “and may the police provide for you in future.”

“And while you’re about it,” said Croyden, “you might pray that we find the treasure – it would be quite as effective.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s four o’clock. Now, to resume where those rogues interrupted us. We had the jewels located, somewhere, within a radius of fifty feet. They must be, according to our theory, either on the bank or in the Bay. We can’t go at the water without a boat. Shall we tackle the land at once? or go to town and procure a boat, and be ready for either in the morning.”

“I have an idea,” said Macloud.

“Don’t let it go to waste, old man, let’s have it!” Croyden encouraged.

“If you can give up hearing yourself talk, for a moment, I’ll try!” laughed Macloud. “It is conceded, I believe, that digging on the Point by day may, probably will, provoke comment and possibly investigation as well. My idea is this. Do no work by day. Then as soon as dusky Night has drawn her robes about her – ”

“Oh, Lord!” ejaculated Croyden, with upraised hands.

“Then, as soon as dusky Night has drawn her robes about her,” Macloud repeated, imperturbably, “we set to work, by the light of the silvery moon. We arouse no comment – provoke no investigation. When morning dawns, the sands are undisturbed, and we are sleeping as peacefully as guinea pigs.”

“And if there isn’t a moon, we will set to work by the light of the silvery lantern, I reckon!” said Croyden.

“And, when we tackle the water, it will be in a silver boat and with silver cuirasses and silver helmets, à la Lohengrin.”

“And I suppose, our swan-song will be played on silver flutes!” laughed Croyden.

“There won’t be a swan-song – we’re going to find Parmenter’s treasure,” said Macloud.

Leaving Axtell in camp, they drove to town, stopping at the North end of the Severn bridge to hire a row-boat, – a number of which were drawn up on the bank – and to arrange for it to be sent around to the far end of the Point. At the hotel, they found a telephone call from the Mayor’s office awaiting them.

The thieves had been duly captured, the Mayor said, and they had been sent to Baltimore. The Chief of Detectives happened to be in the office, when they were brought in, and had instantly recognized them as well-known criminals, wanted in Philadelphia for a particularly atrocious hold-up. He had, thereupon, thought it best to let the Chief take them back with him, thus saving the County the cost of a trial, and the penitentiary expense – as well as sparing Mr. Croyden and his friend much trouble and inconvenience in attending court. He had had them searched, but found nothing which could be identified. He hoped this was satisfactory.

Croyden assured him it was more than satisfactory.

That night they began the hunt. That night, and every night for the next three weeks, they kept at it.

They tested every conceivable hypothesis. They dug up the entire zone of suspicion – it being loose sand and easy to handle. On the plea that a valuable ruby ring had been lost overboard while fishing, they dragged and scraped the bottom of the Bay for a hundred yards around. All without avail. Nothing smiled on them but the weather – it had remained uniformly good until the last two days before. Then there had set in, from the North-east, such a storm of rain as they had never seen. The very Bay seemed to be gathered up and dashed over the Point. They had sought refuge in the hotel, when the first chilly blasts of wind and water came up the Chesapeake. As it grew fiercer, – and a negro sent out for information returned with the news that their tents had been blown away, and all trace of the camp had vanished – it was decided that the quest should be abandoned.

“It’s a foolish hunt, anyway!” said Croyden. “We knew from the first it couldn’t succeed.”

“But we wanted to prove that it couldn’t succeed,” Macloud observed. “If you hadn’t searched, you always would have thought that, maybe, you could have been successful. Now, you’ve had your try – and you’ve failed. It will be easier to reconcile yourself to failure, than not to have tried.”

“In other words, it’s better to have tried and lost, than never to have tried at all,” Croyden answered. “Well! it’s over and there’s no profit in thinking more about it. We have had an enjoyable camp, and the camp is ended. I’ll go home and try to forget Parmenter, and the jewel box he buried down on Greenberry Point.”

“I think I’ll go with you,” said Macloud.

“To Hampton!” Croyden exclaimed, incredulously.

“To Hampton – if you can put up with me a little longer.”

A knowing smile broke over Croyden’s face.

“The Symphony in Blue?” he asked.

“Maybe! – and maybe it is just you. At any rate, I’ll come if I may.”

“My dear Colin! You know you’re more than welcome, always!”

Macloud bowed. “I’ll go out to Northumberland to-night, arrange a few matters which are overdue, and come down to Hampton as soon as I can get away.”

The next afternoon, as Macloud was entering the wide doorway of the Tuscarora Trust Company, he met Elaine Cavendish coming out.

“Stranger! where have you been these many weeks?” she said, giving him her hand.

“Out of town,” he answered. “Did you miss me so much?”

“I did! There isn’t a handy dinner man around, with you and Geoffrey both away. Dine with us this evening, will you? – it will be strictly en famille, for I want to talk business.”

“Wants to talk business!” he thought, as, having accepted, he went on to the coupon department. “It has to do with that beggar Croyden, I reckon.”

And when, the dinner over, they were sitting before the open grate fire, in the big living room, she broached the subject without timidity, or false pride.

“You are more familiar with Geoffrey Croyden’s affairs than any one else, Colin,” she said, crossing her knees, in the reckless fashion women have now-a-days, and exposing a ravishing expanse of blue silk stockings, with an unconscious consciousness that was delightfully naive. “And I want to ask you something – or rather, several things.”

Macloud blew a whiff of cigarette smoke into the fire, and waited.

“I, naturally, don’t ask you to violate any confidence,” she went on, “but I fancy you may tell me this: was the particular business in which Geoffrey was engaged, when I saw him in Annapolis, a success or a failure?”

“Why do you ask!” Macloud said. “Did he tell you anything concerning it?”

“Only that his return to Northumberland would depend very much on the outcome.”

“But nothing as to its character?”

“No,” she answered.

“Well, it wasn’t a success; in fact, it was a complete failure.”

“And where is Geoffrey, now?” she asked.

“I do not know,” he replied.

She laughed lightly. “I do not mean, where is he this minute, but where is he in general – where would you address a wire, or a letter, and know that it would be received?”

He threw his cigarette into the grate and lit another.

“I am not at liberty to tell,” he said.

“Then, it is true – he is concealing himself.”

“Not exactly – he is not proclaiming himself – ”

“Not proclaiming himself or his whereabouts to his Northumberland friends, you mean?”

“Friends!” said Macloud. “Are there such things as friends, when one has been unfortunate?”

“I can answer only for myself,” she replied earnestly.

“I believe you, Elaine – ”

“Then tell me this – is he in this country or abroad?”

“In this country,” he said, after a pause.

“Is he in want, – I mean, in want for the things he has been used to?”

“He is not in want, I can assure you! – and much that he was used to having, he has no use for, now. Our wants are relative, you know.”

“Why did he leave Northumberland so suddenly?” she asked.

“To reduce expenses. He was forced to give up the old life, so he chose wisely, I think – to go where his income was sufficient for his needs.”

“But is it sufficient?” she demanded.

“He says it is.”

She was silent for a while, staring into the blaze. He did not interrupt – thinking it wise to let her own thoughts shape the way.

“You will not tell me where he is?” she said suddenly, bending her blue eyes hard upon his face.

“I may not, Elaine. I ought not to have told you he was not abroad.”

“This business which you and he were on, in Annapolis – it failed, you say?”

He nodded.

“And is there no chance that it may succeed, some time?”

“He has abandoned it.”

“But may not conditions change – something happen – ” she began.

“It is the sort that does not happen. In this case, abandonment spells finis.”

“Did he know, when we were in Annapolis?” she asked.

“On the contrary, he was very sanguine – it looked most promising then.”

Her eyes went back to the flames. He blew ring after ring of smoke, and waited, patiently. He was the friend, he saw, now. He could never hope to be more. Croyden was the lucky fellow – and would not! Well, he had his warning and it was in time. Since she was baring her soul to him, as friend to friend, it was his duty to help her to the utmost of his power.

Suddenly, she uncrossed her knees and sat up.

“I have bought all the stock, and the remaining bonds of the Virginia Development Company, from the bank that held them as collateral for Royster & Axtell’s loan,” she said. “Oh, don’t be alarmed! I didn’t appear in the matter – my broker bought them in your name, and paid for them in actual money.”

“I am your friend – use me!” he said, simply.

She arose, and bending swiftly over, kissed him on the cheek.

“Don’t, Elaine,” he said. “I am, also, Geoffrey Croyden’s friend, but there are temptations which mortal man cannot resist.”

“You think so?” she smiled, leaning over the back of his chair, and putting her head perilously close to his – “but I trust you – though I shan’t kiss you again – at least, for the present. Now, you have been so very good about the bonds, I want you to be good some more. Will you, Colin?”

He held his hands before him, to put them out of temptation.

“Ask me to crawl in the grate, and see how quickly I do it!” he declared.

“It might prove my power, but I should lose my friend,” she whispered.

“And that would be inconvenient!” he laughed. “Come, speak up! it’s already granted, that you should know, Elaine.”

“You’re a very sweet boy,” she said, going back to her seat.

“Which needs demonstration. But that you’re a very sweet girl, needs no proof – unless – ” looking at her with a meaning smile.

“Would that be proof, think you?” with a sidelong glance.

“I should accept it as such,” he averred – “whenever you choose to confer it.”

“Confer smacks of reward for service done,” she said. “Will it bide till then?”

“Not if it may come sooner?”

“Wait – If you choose such pay, the – ”

“I choose no pay,” he interrupted.

“Then, the reward will be in kind,” she answered enigmatically. “I want you – ” She put one slender foot on the fender, and gazed at it, meditatively, while the firelight stole covert glances at the silken ankles thus exposed. “I want you to purchase for me, from Geoffrey Croyden, at par, his Virginia Development Company bonds,” she said. “You can do it through your broker. I will give you a check, now – ”

“Wait!” he said; “wait until he sells – ”

“You think he won’t sell?” she inquired.

“I think he will have to be satisfied, first, as to the purchaser – in plain words, that it isn’t either you or I. We can’t give Geoffrey money! The bonds are practically worthless, as he knows only too well.”

“I had thought of that,” she said, “but, isn’t it met by this very plan? Your broker purchases the bonds for your account, but he, naturally, declines to reveal the identity of his customer. You can, truthfully, tell Geoffrey that you are not buying them – for you’re not. And I– if he will only give me the chance – will assure him that I am not buying them from him – and you might confirm it, if he asked.”

“Hum! It’s juggling with the facts – though true on the face,” said Macloud, “but it’s pretty thin ice we’re skating on.”

“You are assuming he suspects or questions. He may take the two hundred thousand and ask no question.”

“You don’t for a moment believe that!” he laughed.

“It is doubtful,” she admitted.

“And you wouldn’t think the same of him, if he did.”

“I admit it!” she said.

“So, we are back to the thin ice. I’ll do what I can; but, you forgot, I am not at liberty to give his address to my brokers. I shall have to take their written offer to buy, and forward it to him, which, in itself will oblige me, at the same time, to tell him that I am not the purchaser.”

“I leave it entirely to you – manage it any way you see fit. All I ask, is that you get him to sell. It’s horrible to think of Geoffrey being reduced to the bare necessities of life – for that’s what it means, when he goes ‘where his income is sufficient for his needs.’”

“It’s unfortunate, certainly: it would be vastly worse for a woman – to go from luxury to frugality, from everything to relatively nothing is positively pathetic. However, Croyden is not suffering – he has an attractive house filled with old things, good victuals, a more than competent cook, and plenty of society. He has cut out all the non-essentials, and does the essentials economically.”

“You have been there?” she demanded. “You speak of your own knowledge, not from his inferences?”

“I have been there!” he answered.

“And the society – what of it?” she asked quickly.

“Better than our own!” he said, instantly.

“Indeed!” she replied with lifted eye-brows. “Our own in the aggregate or differentiated?”

“In the aggregate!” he laughed; “but quite the equal of our own differentiated. If Croyden were a marrying man – with sufficient income for two – I should give him about six months, at the outside.”

“And how much would you give one with sufficient for two —yourself, for instance?”

“Just long enough to choose the girl – and convince her of the propriety of the choice.”

“And do you expect to join Geoffrey, soon?” meaningly.

“As soon as I can get through here, – probably in a day or two.”

“Then, we may look for the new Mrs. Macloud in time for the holidays, I presume. – Sort of a Christmas gift?”

“About then – if I can pick among so many, and she ratifies the pick.”

“You haven’t, yet, chosen?”

“No! – there are so many I didn’t have time to more than look them over. When I go back, I’ll round them up, cut out the most likely, and try to tie and brand her.”

“Colin!” cried Miss Cavendish. “One would think, from your talk, that Geoffrey was in a cowboy camp, with waitresses for society.”

He grinned, and lighted a fresh cigarette.

She tossed him an alluring look.

“And nothing can induce you to tell me the location of the camp?” she implored.

He smoked, a bit, in silence. Should he or should he not?..

“No! – not now!” he said, slowly. “Let us try the bond matter, first. If he sells, I think he will return; if not, I’ll then consider telling.”

“You’re a good fellow, Colin, dear!” she whispered, leaning over and giving his hand an affectionate little pat. “You’re so nice and comfortable to have around – you never misunderstand, nor draw inferences that you shouldn’t.”

“Which means, I’m not to draw inferences now?” he said.

“Nor at any other time,” she remarked.

“And the reward?”

“Will be forthcoming,” with an alluring smile.

“I’ve a mind to take part payment now,” said he, intercepting the hand before she could withdraw it.

“If you can, sir!” whisking it loose, and darting around a table.

“A challenge, is it? Oh, very well!” and he sprang after.

With a swift movement, she swept up her skirts and fled – around chairs, and tables, across rugs, over sofas and couches – always manœuvring to gain the doorway, yet always finding him barring the way; – until, at last, she was forced to refuge behind a huge davenport, standing with one end against the wall.

“Now, will you surrender?” he demanded, coming slowly toward her in the cul de sac.

She shook her head, smiling the while.

“I’ll be merciful,” he said. “It is five steps, until I reach you – One! – Will you yield?”

“No!”

“Two! – will you yield?”

“No!”

“Three! – will you yield?”

“No!”

“Four – ”

Quick as thought, she dropped one hand on the back of the davenport; there was a flash of slippers, lingerie and silk, and she was across and racing for the door, now fair before her, leaving him only the echo of a mocking laugh.

“Five!” she counted, tauntingly, from the hall. “Why don’t you continue, sir?”

“I stop with four,” he said. “I’ll be good for to-night, Elaine – you need have no further fear.”

She tossed her head ever so slightly, while a bantering look came into her eyes.

“I’m not much afraid of you, now – nor any time,” she answered. “But you have more courage than I would have thought, Colin – decidedly more!”

XII

ONE LEARNED IN THE LAW

It was evening, when Croyden returned to Hampton – an evening which contained no suggestion of the Autumn he had left behind him on the Eastern Shore. It was raw, and damp, and chill, with the presage of winter in its cold; the leaves were almost gone from the trees, the blackening hand of frost was on flower and shrubbery. As he passed up the dreary, deserted street, the wind was whistling through the branches over head, and moaning around the houses like spirits of the damned.

He turned in at Clarendon – shivering a little at the prospect. He was beginning to appreciate what a winter spent under such conditions meant, where one’s enjoyments and recreations are circumscribed by the bounds of comparatively few houses and few people – people, he suspected, who could not understand what he missed, of the hurly-burly of life and amusement, even if they tried. Their ways were sufficient for them; they were eminently satisfied with what they had; they could not comprehend dissatisfaction in another, and would have no patience with it.

He could imagine the dismalness of Hampton, when contrasted with the brightness of Northumberland. The theatres, the clubs, the constant dinners, the evening affairs, the social whirl with all that it comprehended, compared with an occasional dinner, a rare party, interminable evenings spent, by his own fireside, alone! Alone! Alone!

To be sure, Miss Carrington, and Miss Borden, and Miss Lashiel, and Miss Tilghman, would be available, when they were home. But the winter was when they went visiting, he remembered, from late November until early April, and, at that period, the town saw them but little. There was the Hampton Club, of course, but it was worse than nothing – an opportunity to get mellow and to gamble, innocent enough to those who were habituated to it, but dangerous to one who had fallen, by adversity, from better things…

However, Macloud would be there, shortly, thank God! And the dear girls were not going for a week or so, he hoped. And, when the worst came, he could retire to the peacefulness of his library and try to eke out a four months’ existence, with the books, and magazines and papers.

Moses held open the door, with a bow and a flourish, and the lights leaped out to meet him. It was some cheer, at least, to come home to a bright house, a full larder, faithful servants – and supper ready on the table, and tuned to even a Clubman’s taste.

“Moses, do you know if Miss Carrington’s at home?” he asked, the coffee on and his cigar lit.

“Yass, seh! her am home, seh, I seed she herse’f dis mornin’ cum down de parf from de front poach wid de dawg, seh.”

Croyden nodded and went across the hall to the telephone.

Miss Carrington, herself, answered his call. – Yes, she intended to be home all evening. She would be delighted to see him and to hear a full account of himself.

He was rather surprised at his own alacrity, in finishing his cigar and changing his clothes – and he wondered whether it was the girl, or the companionship, or the opportunity to be free of himself? A little of all three, he concluded… But, especially, the girl, as she came from the drawing-room to meet him.

“So you have really returned,” she said, as he bowed over her slender fingers. “We were beginning to fear you had deserted us.”

“You are quite too modest,” he replied. “You don’t appreciate your own attractions.”

The “you” was plainly singular, but she refused to see it.

“Our own attractions require us to be modest,” she returned; “with a – man of the world.”

“Don’t!” he laughed. “Whatever I may have been, I am, now, a man of Hampton.”

She shook her head. “You can never be a man of Hampton.”

“Why not, if I live among you?”

“If you live here – take on our ways, our beliefs, our mode of thinking, you may, in a score of years, grow like us, outwardly; but, inwardly, where the true like must start, never!”

“How do we differ?”

“Ask me something easier! You’ve been bred differently, used to different things, to doing them in a different way. We do things slowly, leisurely, with a fine disregard of time, you, with the modern rush, and bustle, and hurry. You are a man of the world – I repeat it – up to the minute in everything – never lagging behind, unless you wish. You never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day. We never do anything to-day that can be put off till to-morrow.”

“And which do you prefer, the to-day or the to-morrow?” he asked.

“It depends on my humor, and my location, at the time – though, I must admit, the to-day makes for thrift, and business, and success in acquiring wealth.”

“And success also in getting rid of it. It is a return toward the primitive condition – the survival of the fittest. There must be losers as well as acquirers.”

“There’s the pity of it!” she exclaimed, “that one must lose in order that another may gain.”

“But as we are not in Utopia or Altruria,” he smiled, “it will continue so to be. Why, even in Baltimore, they – ”

“Oh, Baltimore is only an overgrown country town!” she exclaimed.

“Granted!” he replied. “With half a million population, it is as provincial as Hampton, and thanks God for it – the most smug, self-satisfied, self-sufficient municipality in the land, with its cobblestones, its drains-in-the-gutters, its how much-holier-than-thou air about everything.”

“But it has excellent railway facilities!” she laughed.

“Because it happens to be on the main line between Washington and the North.”

“At least, the people are nice, barring a few mushrooms who are making a great to-do.”

“Yes, the people are delightful! – And, when it comes to mushrooms, Northumberland has Baltimore beaten to a frazzle. We raise a fresh crop every night.”

“Northumberland society must be exceedingly large!” she laughed.

“It is – but it’s not overcrowded. About as many die every day, as are born every night; and, at any rate, they don’t interfere with those who really belong – except to increase prices, and the cost of living, and clog the avenue with automobiles.”

“That is progress!”

“Yes, it’s progress! but whither it leads no one knows – to the devil, likely – or a lemon garden.”

“‘Blessed are the lemons on earth, for they shall be peaches in Heaven!’” she quoted.

“What a glorious peach your Miss Erskine will be,” he replied.

“I’m afraid you don’t appreciate the great honor the lady did you, in condescending to view the treasures of Clarendon, and to talk about them afterward. To hear her, she is the most intimate friend you have in Hampton.”

“Good!” he said, “I’m glad you told me. Somehow, I’m always drawing lemons.”