The Mask

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"Have you finished with Francois, dear? We need him downstairs."

The valet himself answered the question:

"_Oui_, madame. I was just coming."

Bowing politely, he turned on his heel, and, with a significant glance
at Handsome, which his mistress did not notice, he left the room.
Helen glanced at the bed, which was undisturbed. Surprised, she
exclaimed:

"Why, I thought you were going to lie down!"

He shook his head. Shifting uneasily on his feet, and, without looking
up, he answered:

"No--I can't sleep. I'm too nervous. I'll sleep to-night."

Advancing farther into the room she went up him and put her arm
affectionately round him. Sympathetically she said:

"You'll feel better in a few days, dear. Just rest and take things
easy. I won't hear of your going to the office for a week at least.
All the business you and Mr. Parker have you can transact here. By the
way, dear, you haven't even mentioned the most important thing of
all--have you brought back the diamonds?"

Instead of replying at once to her question, he turned quickly and
pulled down the blind.

"You don't mind, do you?" he said. "The light hurts my eyes."

"Of course not," she replied. Sitting down near him she went on: "Tell
me--have you got the diamonds? How beautiful they must be! How I
should love to see them!"

When finally he turned and confronted her she could see his face only
indistinctly, as the drawing of the blind had left the room almost in
darkness. His voice was strained and tense as he replied huskily:

"I have not got the diamonds!"

Helen almost started from her seat.

"You have not got them!" she exclaimed. "Where are they, Ken?"

"They are lost!"

"Lost?" she echoed, stupefied.

"Yes--lost."

"Oh, how terrible!" she faltered.

This, then, was the secret of his strange manner, his depression and
nervousness. He had lost the diamonds. He had returned home to
announce to the eagerly awaiting stockholders that over a million
dollars' worth of property had suddenly been swept away. His feeling
of personal responsibility must have been awful. No wonder he was not
himself. It was enough to unnerve any man. Of course he was not to
blame, but the world is so merciless. He would have to bear the
censure, even when he was perfectly innocent. How she regretted that
he had ever undertaken so heavy a responsibility. Timidly, not wishing
to embarrass or annoy him, she said:

"How did it happen, dear?"

For a moment he made no answer, but just sat and stared at her. What
little light entered between the shade and the window frame fell full
on her face, lighting up the fine profile, the delicately chiseled
mouth, throwing off golden glints from her artistically arranged hair.
From her face his eyes wandered greedily down to her snow-white neck,
her slender, graceful figure, her beautifully molded arms. Certainly,
he mused to himself, his brother was an epicure in love. This woman
was dainty enough to tempt a saint.

"How did it happen?" she asked again.

"It was in the first rush from the burning ship," he said hoarsely. "I
was asleep when the fire broke out. It happened at two o'clock in the
morning. The diamonds were in the belt which each night I unfastened
and put under my pillow. It was more comfortable to do that than to
wear it. When the first alarm came I forgot everything--except my own
safety. I rushed pell-mell on deck. It was a nasty night. We didn't
know where we were, or how grave the situation was. Outside the wind
was howling furiously, the siren was blowing dismally, the
panic-stricken passengers and sailors were fighting like wildcats. I
lost my head along with the rest. I had reached the lifeboat when
suddenly I remembered the belt. I felt at my waist. It was not there.
I remembered I had left it under the pillow. I was horror-stricken.
Great beads of perspiration broke from every pore. The people were
fighting to get into the boat; I fought to get out and back to my
stateroom. Suddenly someone knocked me on the head. I lost
consciousness. When I came to we were miles away from the wreck,
drifting on the ocean in an open boat, and the _Abyssinia_ was nowhere
to be seen."

Helen made an exclamation of sympathy.

"Poor soul--how terrible you must have felt! Thank God, you escaped
with your life! We ought to feel grateful for that. Suppose I had
been compelled to tell Mary that you were drowned. It would have
killed her--you know that. Do you remember what you told her when you
went away?"

He stared at her, not understanding.

"Told who?" he said cautiously.

"Mary."

"Oh, yes--Mary--of course--you mean your sister----"

Helen looked at him in amazement, then in alarm. Could the wreck have
affected his mind? Laughingly she retorted:

"Ray? Of course not. How foolish you are, Kenneth. Don't you
remember that your old nurse came to see you before you sailed?"

He nodded and coughed uneasily, moving restlessly about in his chair,
as if to hide his embarrassment. These questions were decidedly
unpleasant. Inwardly he wished Francois was present to help him out.

"Mary? Oh, yes, I remember--of course--of course----"

The look of anxiety in the young woman's face deepened. His memory
failed him completely. Changing the subject she said quickly:

"There's something else I wish to mention to you, dear. It is about
Signor Keralio----"

He started quickly to his feet. How came his brother's wife to know
the name of the arch-plotter, the man who had sentenced her own husband
to death? Was it possible that she knew more? Was she aware of his
real identity? Was her present amiability of manner merely simulated?
Was she waiting her time before calling in the police and exposing him
as an impostor?

"Keralio?" he echoed hoarsely. "What about Keralio?" Making a step
forward he exclaimed savagely: "Has he squealed? Is the game up? He's
to blame, not I!"

Impulsively, instinctively, Helen sprang from her chair and fell back
with a startled exclamation. Now thoroughly alarmed, more than ever
convinced that the shipwreck had affected his brain, her one solicitude
was to keep him quiet until she could get a doctor. Soothingly she
said:

"Of course, dear; of course. We won't speak of Signor Keralio now.
He's not worth discussing anyhow."

He watched her closely for a moment, as if trying to see if she were
deceiving him, but her face was frank and serene. Suddenly, taking
hold of her hand, which she abandoned willingly enough in his, he
murmured:

"You mustn't mind what I say. I'll soon be all right. I'm a bit mixed
up. My mind's been queer ever since that awful night."

"Perhaps you would prefer if we had no one to dinner. I could easily
give some excuse and put them all off."

His first impulse was to promptly accept this suggestion, yet what was
the good? If he did not meet them to-day he must do so to-morrow. It
was best to get it over with. The quicker he got to know the people
the easier it would be for him. If he seemed to avoid meeting them, it
might only arouse suspicion. Shaking his head, he said:

"No, dear. That's all right. I'm glad they're coming. It will liven
things up."

Helen's face brightened. It was the first cheerful remark he had made.

"That's what I think. You must forget what you have gone through.
After all it's not so bad, but it might be a lot worse. Mr. Parker
will feel badly about the stones, of course, because he had counted on
making capital out of the advertising they would receive. But who
knows? Perhaps it's all for the best. They may find other stones even
more valuable."

A sudden knock at the door interrupted them.

"Come in," called out Helen.

The maid appeared.

"Mr. Parker is downstairs, m'm."

"Good gracious! Here already for dinner. What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock, m'm."

"All right. I'll be down immediately."

The girl went away and Helen turned to her companion.

"Now, hurry, dear, won't you? Dinner is ready. The guests are
arriving. Dress quickly and come down."

He still held her hand.

"You're not angry with me?" he whispered.

"Why should I be angry?"

"Because of the diamonds."

"No, indeed--it was you I wanted, not the diamonds."

Drawing her to him, he kissed her. But her lips were cold. There was
no response to his ardor. She could not herself have explained why.
She felt no inclination to respond to his caresses, which at any other
time she would have returned with warmth. With a slight shade of
impatience she broke away.

"We have no time for that now, Kenneth. Our guests are waiting."

"That's right," he replied, with a smile that did not escape her.
"We've no time now. But the night is still before us."

"Will you come soon?"

"Yes--I'll be right down."

CHAPTER XIV

Once more the Traynor residence was filled with the sounds of mirth and
revelry.

From cellar to attic the old mansion was ablaze with light. The large
dining-room, decorated with flowers and plants, wore a festive air, and
the long table in the center literally groaned under its burden of fine
linen, crystal, and silver.

The dinner, now drawing to a close, had been a huge success in every
way, and, with the serving of the _demi-tasse_, the guests sat back in
their chairs, feeling that sense of gluttony satisfied which only a
perfect dinner can impart. The rarest wines, the richest foods--Helen
had spared no expense to make the affair worthy the occasion.

As Mr. Parker sat back and with deliberation lit the big black Corona,
which his host had given him, he felt as much at ease as can a man who
has dined well and knows that his affairs are prospering beyond all
expectations, and, as his eyes half closed, he listened dreamily while
his host, for the hundredth time, told yarns of the diamond fields, he
silently congratulated himself on his astuteness in having employed so
successful a messenger. He had not yet had an opportunity to ask any
questions about the diamonds. He had his own reasons for not wanting
those present to learn too much of his plans. There would be plenty of
time when he could get the vice-president alone. So he just sat back
and puffed his cigar, while around him went on the hum of conversation,
punctuated here and there with bursts of laughter.

Considering his short stay at the diamond mines it was astonishing how
well stocked their host was with stories. To hear him talk one might
have thought he had been a miner all his life. Stimulated by copious
draughts of champagne, which he contrived to make flow like water, he
was highly interesting, and his listeners, greatly interested, hung on
to every word.

"It must be a terrible life!" said Steell, as he lit another cigar.

The host emptied his glass and again refilled it before he answered:

"It's a life of a dog--not of a human being. The toil is incessant,
the profit doubtful. You starve to death: good food is unprocurable
save at prohibitive prices. One sleeps practically in the open, save
for such rude shelter as each man can make for himself. The flies are
a pest and constant source of danger. The water is abominable."

"You like champagne better, eh?" laughed Ray.

The gambler had already drunk more than was good for him, and, raising
his glass in a mock toast, began to hum the first lines of a familiar
camp ditty:

"_La femme qui sait me plaire
C'est la petite veuve Clicquot._"

"Is there much stealing of diamonds by the miners?" demanded Mr. Parker.

Handsome nodded.

"Lots of it. They have to watch 'em all the time. They resort to all
kinds of tricks to conceal stones they find. They used to swallow
them, but when they were forced to take powerful emetics and other
drugs, they soon got tired of that game. They also try to smuggle them
across the border line. One detective, who had been for months on the
trail of a well-to-do smuggler, was badly stung. The man invited him
to go shooting, and kindly furnished guns and cartridges. The
unsuspecting policeman carried the cartridges across the border, never
dreaming that each one was filled with diamonds."

Ray clapped her hands.

"Oh, what a clever idea!"

The host nodded approvingly.

"That's what I thought. Any man as smart as that deserved to get away
with it."

Mr. Parker protested.

"Rogues are always smart!" he exclaimed.

"Until they're caught," laughed Dick Reynolds. "Then they don't think
they're so smart."

Mr. Steell nodded approval.

"I know something about that," said the lawyer. "A crook is never
really clever. He always leaves some loophole which leads to
detection. He thinks he is secure, that his disguise is impenetrable,
but there is always someone watching him, closely observing his every
move. And, the first thing he knows, he has walked into a trap, the
handcuffs are snapped, and the electric chair looms grimly before
him----"

_Crash_!

All looked up to the end of the table, where their host had broken a
glass. In the act of raising the champagne to his lips the glass had
slipped and broken into a thousand pieces. Helen, frightened, started
from her seat.

"Are you hurt, dear?" she asked. "There is blood on your hand."

"No--no, it's nothing. I cut myself with a bit of glass. It's
nothing."

Ray was eager for more anecdotes.

"Do tell us more, Kenneth," she exclaimed, interrupting her chat with
her left-hand neighbor.

"Give him a breathing spell," laughed Dick. "We've kept him at it ever
since the dinner began."

Handsome, his face pale, his hand trembling, filled another glass with
the foaming golden wine, and drained it at a draught. What the lawyer
just said had been somewhat of a shock. Was there more meaning in it
than appeared in the chance words? He eyed Steell narrowly, when he
was not looking, but the lawyer's face was inscrutable. Again he
filled his glass and again emptied it.

That her husband had been drinking heavily all evening had not escaped
Helen's attention, and it worried her. Nudging her sister she
whispered:

"Ken's drinking more than is good for him. He never used to drink like
that."

At that moment, the host looked up and caught Helen's eye. Raising his
glass he offered a toast:

"Here's to the prettiest, the sweetest, the most desirable little woman
in the world! Gentlemen and ladies--my wife!"

They all drank except Helen who, confused and annoyed, tried to turn it
off with a laugh.

Noticing her embarrassment, Ray made a signal to Mr. Steell and they
both rose from the table. Helen and Dick quickly followed their
example and the hostess led the way into the drawing-room, leaving
Handsome and Mr. Parker alone to their cigars.

The president of the Americo-African Mining Company was not sorry of
the opportunity which this tete-a-tete afforded for a quiet business
talk.

"By the way, old man," he began, "we haven't had a chance to talk
business yet. You've got the diamonds, of course."

His host was silent. Mr. Parker thought he had not heard. A little
louder he repeated:

"You've got the diamonds?"

Still no answer. The president began to get uneasy. Could anything be
wrong or was his friend drunk? He had noticed that he had been
drinking heavily--something he had never known Kenneth Traynor do.
With some impatience he said sharply: "What's the matter, Kenneth?
Wake up, old man. I asked you a question. Can't you answer?"

Handsome brought his fist down on the table with a bang that made the
glasses dance.

"D---- it!" he exclaimed angrily. "Can't a man be left alone in his
own house for a few minutes without bothering him with business?"

This outburst was so utterly unexpected that Mr. Parker, taken entirely
by surprise, fell back in his chair and stared at his host in
amazement. Never before had he known his old friend and partner to act
in this strange way. Could anything be amiss? Now he came to think of
it, he had noticed a great change in his associate directly he saw him.
He had seemed to lack his customary cordiality and frankness. He
appeared moody and morose, as if he had on his mind some weighty
responsibility he was unwilling to share. Evidently there was nothing
to be gained by displaying impatience, so, in more conciliatory tones,
he asked:

"That's all right, my boy. If you don't care to talk shop to-night, we
won't. I didn't want to hurry you. I was curious, that's all. I have
scarcely been able to curb my impatience. You understand what it means
to us. Why, the very announcement that we have the diamonds safe here
in New York, will be enough to send the company's stock up twenty
points." Lowering his voice and bending over he added confidentially:
"I don't mind telling you that I've been buying for my own account all
the cheap stock I could put my hands on. As to the stockholders,
they're simply wild with impatience to see the big stones. But we
won't talk any more about it to-night. We'll wait till to-morrow."

Handsome, his face almost livid, leaned over the table. Hoarsely, he
replied:

"It's no use waiting till to-morrow. All that's to be told can be told
now. I haven't got the diamonds!"

For a moment Mr. Parker did not realize what the other man was saying.
Thinking he had not heard right he asked:

"What did you say?"

"I have not got the diamonds!"

The president started from his seat. His face pale as death, his hand
shaking as stricken with palsy, he almost shouted:

"You have not got the diamonds! Then where in God's name are they?"

"At the bottom of the ocean!"

The senior partner dropped back in his chair, white as death. Then
this was the outcome of all his hopes, all his planning. Faintly he
gasped:

"Why didn't you tell me so before?"

"I had no opportunity. I didn't want to cable such news. It might
have caused a slump in the shares. I could not let you know before.
This is the first time I've seen you alone."

The president said no more. The lines about his mouth tightened and
the expression of his face underwent a change. He uttered not a word,
but just sat there, his eyes fixed steadily on his companion, who
continued to fill his glass with champagne. Cornelius Winthrop Parker
was not a man to be easily deceived. He had too much experience of the
world for that. All his life he had been reading men and what he heard
now in the tone of his host's voice convinced him that he was lying.
That, in itself, was sufficient of a shock. To find Kenneth
Traynor--the soul of integrity and honor--deliberately betraying a
trust of such importance hurt him almost as much as the loss of the
gems. That they had gone down with the _Abyssinia_ he did not for a
moment believe. It was more likely that they had been sold--possibly
to make good Wall Street losses. Talk of big stock deals in which
Traynor had been mixed up had reached his ear before today, and more
recently this gossip had become more insistent. Kenneth was
interested, said rumor, in pool operations involving millions. The
recent sudden slump had found him unprepared. Ruin threatened him and
to save himself he had succumbed to temptation. This, at least, was
the theory which the President's alert brain rapidly evolved as he sat
watching the man in front of him. Perhaps all was not yet lost. If
the stones had not yet been disposed of, an effort might still be made
to recover them and at the same time save Traynor and his young wife
from the disgrace that such a grave scandal would entail. The first
thing necessary was to keep cool, show no concern and disarm suspicion
by pretending to accept the loss as irreparable. Then, at the first
opportunity, he would take Wilbur Steell into his confidence. That
wide awake lawyer would know exactly how to handle the case. Dick
Reynolds would have an opportunity to show his talent as a detective.
Breaking the long silence he said calmly:

"Of course, I understand your silence. I think you acted wisely. We
had better keep the loss to ourselves as long as we can. No one can
attach any blame to you. It is a terrible loss, but we must face it
like men."

The gambler looked up quickly, and eyed his guest narrowly. Seeing
nothing on the latter's face to arouse his suspicions, he grew more
cheerful. Less sullen and defiant, he extended his hand.

"Thanks, old man!" he exclaimed heartily. "I expected no less from
you. I can't tell you how badly I feel about the loss. No doubt my
manner has seemed strange since my return. I have been irritable with
everybody--even my dear wife has noticed it. It was only because I did
not know how to make a clear breast of it. Since you take it so
sensibly, I'll cheer up. I declare I feel like a new man already."

Mr. Parker lit another cigar. Calmly, he said:

"That's right, Kenneth my boy. Keep a stiff upper lip. All's for the
best. We'll have better luck next time."

As he spoke, Wilbur Steell passed on his way to join the ladies in the
drawing-room. The president called out to him:

"Hello, Steell. What are you so busy about? Entertaining the women,
eh? Always thought you were a lady killer. Suppose you come and smoke
a cigar with me and let our friend here go and have a chat with his
wife. You've no right to monopolize the fair sex in that fashion, even
if you are a trust lawyer. Anyhow, I want to talk to you--just a
little matter of business--that's all!"

Steell laughed, and, dropping into a chair, took the cigar which Mr.
Parker held out. Turning to his host, and clapping him genially on the
back the president exclaimed:

"Go and talk to your wife, old man. You've left her alone long enough."

"All right--I will," replied the gambler, not sorry of any excuse to
get away.

Mr. Parker waited till he was out of hearing, then, leaning quickly
over to his companion, he exclaimed in a tense whisper:

"Steell, I need your help."

The lawyer looked at him in surprise. Removing his cigar from his
mouth he said:

"My help? By all means. What can I do for you?"

Mr. Parker gave a quick glance behind him to see if they were observed,
and then he said:

"My God, Steell, something terrible has happened! At any cost, we
mustn't let the wife know----"

The lawyer stared at his companion in amazement.

"What is it, for Heaven's sake?" he demanded, looking anxiously at his
_vis-a-vis_.

"The diamonds are lost!" replied Parker hoarsely.

"The diamonds lost!"

"Yes--lost--he has returned without them. They went down in the
_Abyssinia_. At least, that's what he says----"

The lawyer started.

"You think----"

"I think nothing," replied the president cautiously. "I want to know.
That's why I want you to help me--to find out--you understand?"

The lawyer nodded:

"Some detective work, eh?"

"Precisely. The stones may have gone down to the bottom of the ocean,
or they may not. For all we know the ship may have been set on fire
purposely, in order to create such a panic----"

The lawyer protested.

"Surely you don't think Kenneth----"

The president shook his head.

"I accuse nobody. I want to find out."

He was silent for a moment, and then after a pause he went on:

"I suppose you've heard, as well as everybody else, how Traynor has
been plunging in Wall Street recently."

The lawyer nodded. Hesitatingly he replied:

"Yes--I have. Unfortunately, the reports are true. Investigations I
have conducted privately on my own account have convinced me that
Kenneth has been a big plunger for some time. But as far as I know, he
has operated only within his means. I have often remonstrated with him
about the folly of it, but he enjoys the excitement of the speculation
game, and as long as he kept within bounds and gambled with his own
money I didn't see that anyone had any right to interfere."

"Ah, just so--as long as he operated with his own means and with his
own money. But suppose the market suddenly goes against such a man,
and he is face to face with a tremendous loss, possibly ruin, what does
such a man do nine times out of ten?"

"Blow his brains out."

"Yes--sometimes that, but often he succumbs to temptation, and takes
what isn't his----"

"Then you think that Kenneth----"

"I think nothing. I want to know. He has come back from Africa a
changed man. He is surly, morose, secretive. That man has something
on his conscience. We must find out what it is. It is up to you to
ferret it out. Set your detectives to work. The company will spend
the last cent in its treasury to find those stones. You must trail his
associates, find out where he goes. The diamonds are probably right
here in New York. Who first took Kenneth to Wall Street?"

"Signor Keralio----"

"Ah--always that fellow! Who is he?"

"An adventurer of the worst type. I have had him shadowed by one of my
men. He has a police record as a dangerous criminal of international
reputation."

"And Kenneth's valet--that fellow Francois."

"He was formerly in Keralio's employ."

The President rose. Extending his hand to the lawyer, he said:

"That's enough. I don't think the trail will be hard to pick up.
Spare no expense. Good night!"

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