The Mask

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"Yes, and it has made me very unhappy. It is terrible that he is
taking such risks." Turning to Mr. Parker she asked apprehensively:
"Do you think he will run any danger?"

The old gentleman shook his head.

"Of course not, my dear lady. It is preposterous to even think of such
a thing. We have kept the matter too secret. Don't be uneasy. He
will come to no harm." Raising his hat, he added: "Excuse me, ladies.
I'll go and find Kenneth and bring him to you."

The next instant he was swallowed up by the crowd.

Helen, uneasy at her husband's prolonged absence, suggested that they
go below and join him.

Suddenly a stentorian voice called out:

"All ashore--all ashore!"

Quickly, Helen jumped to her feet, only to bump into Kenneth, who at
that moment ran up, followed by Mr. Parker.

"All ashore, dear," he said hastily, "you had better go."

She made no reply, but averted her head so he might not see her red
eyes.

All about them the bustle and excitement was bewildering. People
pushed this way and that in their efforts to reach the gangway.

The siren sounded its last deep toned blasts of warning; the final
greetings were exchanged.

Tall and handsome looking in his tourist knicker-bockers and close
fitting steamer cap, Kenneth held both Helen's hands in his. Ray and
Mr. Parker, under the pretence of visiting the anchor weighed, had
discreetly withdrawn. Francois, the valet, could be seen in the
distance, making signals to some one on shore. Husband and wife were
standing alone behind one of the big ventilators, Helen glad that no
one saw them, ashamed that anyone should detect the big tears she was
unable to control. How she had dreaded this moment of actual parting,
this ordeal of saying good-bye!

"You'll write every day, won't you?" she asked in choking voice.

Tenderly he drew her to him.

"Every day, sweetheart."

"And you'll come back safe to me?"

"I'll come back safe to you."

Bravely she forced back the tears that blinded her. Gently she
murmured:

"I'll wait for you, Kenneth. I shall count the days, every moment,
until you return. I never realized till now how much we are to each
other. I'll pray for you, Kenneth; I'll pray God that He watch over
and protect you."

He said nothing, but drew her toward him. Looking searchingly into her
eyes, he said half in jest, half in earnest:

"You'll be true, always true!"

Gravely she answered:

"Always--until death!"

"You'll look at no other man."

"How can you be so foolish, Ken dear? I see no one but you. I hear no
voice but yours. You are my life, my soul. When you return you'll
find me here, at this same dock, arms outstretched, waiting, just
waiting."

The bell rang.

"All ashore! All ashore!"

He bent low. His mouth met hers in one deep, lingering kiss.

"God bless you, darling."

"Good-bye, Ken, good-bye."

The next thing she knew she was back on the dock among a crowd of
spectators waving hats and handkerchiefs--the women weeping, the men
shouting and gesticulating.

The passengers stood at the rail, waving frantic adieux in return. The
siren sounded deep-toned blasts of warning to the smaller river craft
to get out of the way. The huge vessel strained and trembled,
vibrating more violently as she gradually began to glide into the open.
Assisted by a fleet of energetic tugs she finally swung clear and
pointed her nose eastward. Slowly, majestically, the leviathan moved
out to sea.

It was bad enough to see him go at all, but to have him sail on such a
gloomy day as this, with not a ray of sunshine to cheer him on the way,
was more than Helen could bear. Blinded by tears she stood kissing her
hand to the familiar figure now only faintly discernible on the fast
receding steamship, and she stood there long after every one else had
left the dock watching until the _Mauretania_ was only a speck in the
horizon.

CHAPTER V

Sunday evenings at Mrs. Traynor's were always enjoyable. No formal
invitations were issued. Friends just dropped in as they felt
inclined. There was good music, excellent tea _a la Russe_ and always
a number of interesting people.

To-night, the second Sunday since Kenneth went away, promised to be
duller than usual. Mr. Steell was there, of course, and he had brought
Dick Reynolds, a slightly built, shrewd looking young man with glasses,
who kept everybody amused with exciting stories of the underworld.
Yet, for all the animation, there was an atmosphere of gloom in the
air, an indefinable sense of depression which all felt and could not
explain. The lawyer, Dick, and Ray were in a corner carrying on an
animated discussion. Helen, her mind preoccupied, her thoughts
hundreds of miles away with the loved absent one, sat quietly at the
piano, running her fingers lightly over the keys, her thoughts many
leagues distant with the man who had carried her heart away with him.

Her face was pale, her expression grave. Why had Kenneth's going away
affected her like this? She had not had a moment's peace of mind since
his departure. She could not sleep. Horrible dreams and thoughts
haunted her all night. Some danger threatened, that she felt
instinctively. Something dreadful was going to happen. What it was,
she did not know. But it was something that threatened her happiness,
perhaps her life or Kenneth's----. At the mere thought a shiver ran
through her, and a convulsive sob rose in her throat, almost choking
her. Not until this moment had she fully realized how much she loved
him.

A sudden burst of laughter at the other end of the room aroused her
from her reverie. Looking up, she asked:

"What are you all so amused about?"

Ray smiled as she replied:

"We're arguing about dual personalities. Mr. Steell insists that there
is no such thing. Mr. Reynolds agrees with him. He is wrong of
course. I know of several well-authenticated cases, and the medical
records are there to back me up."

"Exactly what do you mean by dual personality?" demanded the lawyer.

Ray returned to the attack, while Helen, amused, rose from the piano
and went over to listen to the argument.

"I mean that a person we know well may suddenly cease being that person
and assume a personality entirely different."

Mr. Steell laughed derisively.

"Does the patient change her or his skin?"

"No, the change is wholly mental. Although in fact, the new mental
attitude does result in certain physical modifications. For instance,
a person who in his normal condition may be most punctilious and neat
in his dress is likely to become unkempt and slovenly in the new
character he unconsciously assumes."

"Have you ever encountered any such dual personalities?"

"Personally, no. But I have heard of them, and physicians often
encounter them in their practice."

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders as he turned to Helen.

"What do you think about it?" he asked, with an incredulous smile.

"About what?"

"These so-called dual personalities."

Before his hostess could answer, the drawing-room door opened and Mr.
Parker entered. Helen rose and went forward to greet the president of
the Americo-African Mining Company.

"Oh, Mr. Parker, how are you? I am so glad you came to see us."

The visitor advanced smiling into the room. With a salute to all
present, he asked cheerily:

"Well, what news of the wanderer?"

Helen sighed.

"None as yet."

The visitor chuckled as he crossed the room to shake hands with Ray and
Mr. Steell.

"Oh, well you must be patient. He'll soon be there, and then we shall
hear wonderful tales."

"What's the latest news from the seat of war--I mean the mines?" asked
Ray roguishly.

Mr. Parker smiled.

"Everything is going well, thank you."

"No new big finds?" demanded Mr. Steell.

The president laughed. Shaking his head, he said:

"We can't expect to make such finds every day. If we often picked up
stones of that size, we'd soon own all the wealth in the world."

"More likely," retorted Ray quickly, "that diamonds would become so
cheap that children would buy them for marbles."

Mr. Steell looked interested.

"What is the real market value of the two big gems you have already
picked up?"

The president looked at him for a moment in silence. Then, slowly, he
said:

"A very conservative estimate is $1,200,000 for both stones. They are
the purest white. There are larger stones in the world, but none of
finer quality."

"What do you expect to do with them?"

"First, they will be brought here and exhibited in their crude state.
You can easily realize the value to our company of such a gigantic
advertisement. Crowds will flock to see the wonderful crystals. The
newspapers all over the country will give them the widest publicity.
After everybody has seen them, we shall probably send them to Amsterdam
to be cut."

"Then, what will you do with them?"

"To tell you the truth, we have not made up our minds. Such very large
stones have really no commercial value. Take for instance the famous
Cullinan, the wonder of the modern world. That gem was so huge that it
was of no real value to the owners; so, unable to realize on it
themselves, they induced the Transvaal government to buy it and present
it to the King of England. We shall try to be a little more practical.
Our first duty is to our stockholders. We shall probably have the
stones cut up into a number of smaller stones, on which we shall be
able to realize a large sum. It's a rare stroke of good fortune for
us."

Helen had said nothing, but stood listening in silence. It was less of
the money involved in the adventure that she was thinking than of her
husband's safety.

"Suppose Kenneth loses the gems?" she faltered.

The old gentleman laughed.

"There's no fear of him losing them. He may have to fight for them,
but he'll never lose them I know him too well for that."

Helen's eyes opened wide.

"He may have to fight for them," she echoed. "Do you mean that?"

"No--no, of course not," said the president hastily. "No one will even
know he has them in his possession. We have kept the matter very
quiet."

Mr. Steell shrugged his shoulders. Drily he said:

"Oh, I guess Ken is big enough to take care of himself. It does look
as if it were tempting Providence to carry loose on one's person
valuables for so large an amount, but it's hardly likely that any of
the denizens of the underworld know of his departure. Still less that
he is carrying a million loose in his clothes. I don't see that
there's any reason to worry."

"That's precisely my opinion," said a musical voice immediately behind
them.

All started and looked up. Everyone had been so intent on the
conversation that they had not noticed a man who had entered the room.

He was a tall, dark-complexioned man of five and thirty with strong,
stern features, which, in repose, were actually forbidding. The mouth,
partly concealed by a long, bristling moustache, was firm, suggesting
relentless will power, and his eyes, restless, keen and searching, had
taken in every person there long before anyone was aware of his
presence. He was fashionably, even elegantly dressed, and on his left
hand he wore a solitaire of uncommon size and luster. His hair,
carefully curled, scented and parted, was extraordinarily dark,
contrasting sharply with the unusual pallor of his face. He spoke low
and musically, with a slight foreign accent.

Helen started involuntarily on hearing the sound of his voice, and a
cloud passed momentarily over her face. It lasted only a moment. She
was too tactful, too much the woman of the world not to greet with at
least apparent cordiality any visitor under her roof, no matter how
unwelcome he might really be. Turning quickly, she advanced and held
out her hand.

"How do you do, Signor Keralio? How you startled us! I did not hear
you come in."

The newcomer's black eyes flashed, and his thin lips parted in a smile
as he bent low and ceremoniously kissed his hostess' hand in
continental fashion. Fond, as are most men of the Latin race, of
making extravagant compliments, he murmured softly:

"Your tiny ears, Madam, were not intended to distinguish such gross
sounds as ordinary mortal's footsteps. Dainty and delicately fashioned
as the shells strewn along the beach, they were modeled only to listen
to the gods or re-echo the music of the murmuring sea." Apologetically
he added:

"But I'm afraid I intrude. Possibly you discuss family affairs----"

A look of annoyance crossed Helen's face. Quickly withdrawing her
hand, she said:

"Oh, not at all. We were only talking about my husband. You know he
sailed for South Africa two weeks ago. This is Mr. Steell, Signor
Keralio. I think you know my sister. Mr. Parker--Signor Keralio."

The old gentleman nodded affably, and, putting on his glass,
scrutinized the newcomer narrowly. The president of the
Americo-African Mining Company had always made it a point not to
neglect any chance introduction. He had no idea who the visitor was,
but he looked prosperous. Possibly with a little careful manipulation,
he might be induced to invest in some A. A. M. stock. Holding out his
hand, he said affably:

"Signor Keralio---- Let me see. Where have I heard that name before?"

Ray came to the rescue.

"Signor Keralio is the well-known fencing master."

A look of disappointment came over the president's face. Only a
fencing master? Ugh! He was hardly worth bothering about. He
wondered whether the business were profitable and if all fencing
masters dressed like millionaires and had such polished manners. Helen
explained:

"Signor Keralio is a friend of my husband. Kenneth enjoys fencing, and
Signor Keralio is his teacher."

"Oh, yes, to be sure," smiled Mr. Parker. "Capital idea--splendid
exercise. I'd try it myself, only I'm afraid I'd do my adversary some
injury."

The Italian gave a low chuckle. With veiled irony, he said:

"Monsieur is right. He no doubt has a good eye, a supple wrist. An
encounter might be very unpleasant for his opponent."

Ray, unable to control her mirth, hastily beat a retreat, followed more
leisurely by Mr. Steell, and taking refuge at the far end of the room
sat down at the piano, and began to play softly a Chopin nocturne.

Waving the newcomer to a seat, Mr. Parker offered him a cigar, which
the fencing master, with a courteous bow, asked his hostess' permission
to smoke.

"By all means," she said, "and with your permission I'll leave you
gentlemen alone a few moments. I have a letter to finish. It must go
tonight to catch the boat."

"It's to your husband, I wager," said Keralio, with a sardonic smile.

"An easy guess," she retorted. "I write him every day."

The fencing master gave a sigh as he exclaimed:

"Ah, such devotion is truly beautiful! Why have I never known such
love as that?"

"Perhaps you never deserved it!" she retorted.

Mr. Parker chuckled.

"That's what we in the American vernacular call 'a knock-out.'"

Helen laughed lightly. There was a swish of silken petticoats, and she
disappeared in an alcove, where she sat down at a desk. Keralio looked
after her with undisguised admiration and puffed his cigar in silence
for a few moments. Then he said:

"It's a big job which you and Traynor are doing out there in South
Africa. I see by the papers that you've already made some valuable
finds."

He appeared unconcerned, and looked narrowly at his _vis a vis_ to see
what effect his words had on him, possibly to draw him out. But Mr.
Parker was too old a bird to be caught napping, even by a clever
adventurer. Instantly on his guard, he said carelessly:

"The outlook is very bright, very promising indeed. Our stockholders
are quite satisfied, and it is likely that we shall make good money.
But of course everything is in the experimental stage as yet."

"But you have found diamonds--big diamonds?"

"Oh, yes," replied the president with affected carelessness; "we have
picked up a few stones. As I told you, the prospects are very
promising."

"But haven't you recently made some extraordinary finds?"

Mr. Parker shook his head.

"No--nothing worth mentioning.'"

Keralio smiled skeptically.

"Isn't your memory somewhat at fault, cher monsieur? Surely you
haven't forgotten the two stones of enormous size just picked up--finds
of sensational importance. The newspapers have been full of the story."

Mr. Parker made a deprecatory gesture.

"Pshaw! My dear sir, you ought to know what newspaper talk is worth!
No yarn is too fantastic to print so long as it sells their papers. We
found two stones of fair size, it is true, but to say that they are of
priceless value is a gross exaggeration."

The Italian eyed his companion closely. Significantly he said:

"They're valuable enough, however, to justify you in refusing to trust
their shipment to ordinary channels and in going to the expense of
sending to South Africa one of your officers to whom is confided the
task of bringing the gems home."

"How did you know that?" demanded Mr. Parker, surprised.

"There is very little I do not know," smiled Keralio ironically, as he
blew a ring of cigar smoke up to the ceiling.

His curiosity aroused, the president of the A. A. M. Co. was about to
question his companion farther, but at that moment Helen rose from the
desk and came toward them.

"I'm not in the humor to write now," she said. "I'd rather talk."
Sitting in a chair near them, she added quickly: "Won't you let me get
you some tea?"

Both men shook their heads. Mr. Parker rose. With a mischievous
twinkle in his eye, he said:

"I'll go over to the others and take a hand at bridge. I want to make
some money, Signor--I'll leave you to entertain Mrs. Traynor."

With a courteous salutation to his hostess, a graceful act of
chivalrous politeness of which he was a past master, Mr. Parker crossed
the room in the direction of the card table.

CHAPTER VI

An awkward silence followed the president's departure. Helen would
have detained him had she dared. Being alone with Keralio was very
distasteful to her. Ill at ease in such close proximity to this man,
whom she feared even more than she disliked, she sat still without
saying a word. Presently between puffs of his cigar, he said:

"You really don't mind my smoking?"

"Oh, not at all."

He bowed and again relapsed into silence. She looked at him sideways
and wondered why this foreigner had always inspired her with such
dislike. His manner was courteous, and he was decidedly handsome. He
had white teeth and fine eyes. They were bold eyes, but so were the
eyes of other men. They had a habit of looking a woman through and
through. She always felt embarrassed under his close scrutiny. It
seemed to her as if he were undressing her mentally and took pleasure
in surveying critically and admirably every part of her as a
connoisseur examines a statue. She had an uncomfortable feeling when
near him. She was afraid to look straight in his eyes, afraid that
possibly he might be able to throw some spell over her, exert some
hypnotic influence that she would not be able to resist. She
considered him a seductive, dangerous man, the kind of man every pure
woman, every wife who wishes to remain faithful to her marriage vows
should avoid.

Suddenly while she was looking at him, he turned his head toward her.
Before she could prevent it their eyes met.

He did not avert his gaze, but kept his eyes fixed on hers as if trying
to awaken in her some of his own ardor. She tried to look away, but
she could not. He seemed to hold her there by sheer force of will
power. Frightened, she started to tremble in every limb. Yet, to her
astonishment, she had no feeling of anger or resentment. It seemed
quite natural that this man should gaze at her in this intimate,
caressing way. She found herself taking pleasure in it. Her vanity
was gratified. If he looked at her so persistently, it must be that he
thought her pretty. Her face began to burn, her bosom heaved, a
strange sensation that heretofore only her husband had been able to
arouse, came over her. And still his eyes were on hers, caressing,
voluptuous.

At the other end of this room the game of bridge was still in progress.
Ray was winning, as usual, and amusing the men with her wit and
vivaciousness. Mr. Steell had glanced over in their direction several
times, and he saw enough to convince him that the attentions of the
fencing master were unwelcome to their hostess. Had he caught Helen's
eye, had she made the slightest sign that she was being annoyed, he
would have instantly left the game and gone over to the window, if only
to break up the tete-a-tete, but she did not once look up. Suddenly he
remembered what had been suggested on the boat. It was an idea. Ray
at that moment got up to get some tea, and, profiting by the
opportunity, the lawyer leaned over and whispered:

"Say, Dick, you see that chap over there."

The young man looked up.

"Who--the signor?"

"Yes. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing good--although nothing very bad for that matter. He's a dark
horse--keeps pretty much to himself. He's well known in the gay
resorts, in the gambling houses and where they play the ponies."

"What's his reputation?"

"He's known as a liberal spender. He's always flashing big rolls of
money----"

"Where does he get it--not from the fencing school?"

"No--that's only a blind."

The lawyer lowered his voice.

"Dick, my boy, that fellow will bear watching, and you're the man to do
it."

"You want him shadowed?"

"Yes--find out where he goes, who he knows. My opinion is that he
belongs to an international band of crooks--possibly counterfeiters,
smugglers, or blackmailers. If you land him behind the bars you'll
deserve well of your country."

Dick glanced once or twice in the direction of the object of their
conversation, who, quite unconscious of their scrutiny, was still
talking earnestly to Helen. The young man smiled, his chest expanded
with satisfaction, and grimly he said:

"Leave him to me."

Quite unconscious of the attention he attracted, the Italian turned to
Helen.

"You miss your husband very much?"

"Yes--terribly."

"It must be lonely for you."

"It is," she sighed.

"Yet you have your sister."

"Can a sister replace a husband?"

He gave a low, musical laugh.

"No--not a sister. A lover is preferable."

Quickly she retorted:

"My husband is my lover---my lover is my husband."

He laughed, as he said:

"It sounds very pretty, but you must admit that it is rather banal."

"In what way?"

He flecked the ash from his cigar.

"You are too pretty, too charming a woman to be commonplace. Really it
spoils you----"

Ignoring his compliments, she persisted.

"Do you mean I am commonplace because I call Kenneth my lover. What
other lover should I or any other woman happily married have? I am
faithful to him--he is loyal to me."

He gave a little mocking laugh, and was silent. How she hated him for
that laugh! After a pause he said quietly and suggestively:

"I am sure you are faithful to him----"

For a moment she looked at him without speaking, eager to resent the
implied imputation on her husband, yet unwilling to give the slanderer
the satisfaction of seeing that his thrust had carried home.
Concealing as best she could her growing irritation, she said calmly:

"Don't you suppose _he_ also is faithful to me?"

Again that horrible, cynical smile. Fixing her with his piercing dark
eyes, and, in a manner, the significance of which could not escape her,
he said:

"Don't seek to know too much, Madam. To paraphrase a famous saying:
'It's a wise woman who knows her own husband.'"

Coloring with anger, she said:

"You mean----"

"Just what I say--that a woman, a wife cannot possibly be sure of her
husband's fidelity. Think how different are the conditions. The wife,
no matter if her temperament be warm or cold, is always at home,
surrounded by prying eyes, rarely beset by temptation. The husband is
often away, he goes on business journeys that free him temporarily from
the chains which keep him in good behavior. If he is good looking, the
women look at him, flirt with him. It is inevitable. The chances are
that he succumbs to the first adventure--no matter how exemplary a
husband he may be at home. If he is a man--of unusual character, he
passes through the fire unscathed; if he is--just a man, he is
attracted to the candle like the proverbial moth and sometimes singes
his wings----"

She looked at him keenly for a moment as if trying to read on his
sphinx-like face if he knew more about Kenneth than he admitted, and
then with forced calmness she said:

"In your opinion, Signor Keralio--is my husband a man--of unusual
character, or is he--just a man?"

The Italian shrugged his shoulders as he replied deprecatingly:

"My dear madam, just stop and think a moment. Isn't that a rather
indiscreet question to put to a man--a man who is a friend of your
husband----"

Hotly she turned on him.

"If you are his friend, why do you vilify and slander him behind his
back?"

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