The Mask

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"It was when the ship caught fire, madame. We were running to ze
life-boat, monsieur and me, when suddenly----"

"Well--what?" she almost shouted, in agony of suspense.

"Monsieur tripped over a coil of rope and fell----"

Almost unconscious in her excitement of what she was doing Helen laid
her hand on the man's arm. Terror-stricken she cried:

"He didn't hurt himself seriously, did he?"

The valet shook his head.

"No, madame--not seriously. He struck his head against a chair and
just graze ze eye. It is nothing serious, I assure madame. The doctor
says that if he wears blue spectacles for few months he will be all
right."

"Oh, he wears blue spectacles, does he?"

"Yes, madame, he must. Ze eye is inflamed and cannot stand ze strong
light."

"Poor Kenneth!" she murmured, half-aloud. "I shall hardly know him in
blue spectacles."

The valet, who had been watching her like a hawk out of his
half-closed, sleepy-looking eyes, overheard the remark. Quickly he
said:

"Of course, madame must expect to find monsieur a little changed. What
we went through was _epouvantable_, something awful. We just escaped
with our lives. For days monsieur was so nervous he was hardly able to
speak a word. Even now he stops at times----"

Helen looked at him in wonder.

"'He stops!' What do you mean?"

The valet turned away, and for a moment was silent. Then, as if making
a great effort, he turned and said:

"Madame will pardon me, but she must be brave and not show monsieur she
notices any change. Ze doctor said it was a terrible shock to his
nervous system--that fire. Monsieur has not been ze same since, _pas
du tout_ ze same. Ze doctor he says that these symptoms will all
disappear once he gets home and has a good rest. It is only ze shock,
I assure madame."

Helen listened appalled, her face growing whiter each moment, her lips
trembling. He had met with an accident, then, after all! Her instinct
had spoken truly. Her darling was ill. That explained his long
silence. He had been too ill to write. He had gone through a terrible
shock and he had come home ill, very ill, quite changed. Her voice
faltering she said:

"What are the symptoms?"

"Monsieur's memory is so bad, madame. He forgets. Only to-day, as ze
ship came up ze harbor, I ask monsieur if he expect madame to meet us
at ze dock. _C'est vraiment incroyable_! He turned to me, with a look
of ze greatest surprise, and asked: 'Who ze devil is madame?'"

"What! Didn't he seem to remember me, even?" A look of distress came
over her face.

The valet shook his head.

"Non, madame." Quickly he added: "But it is nothing. It is only
temporary."

"Didn't he know my sister and Mr. Steell? Didn't they greet him at the
dock?"

"Yes, madame. They spoke to him and he spoke to them. But he was not
himself. They seemed surprised. They will tell madame."

Helen fell back, sick and faint. Why had she not known this before?
She would have gone down to meet him, thrown herself weeping into his
arms. He would have known her then--who better than he would recognize
that perfume he loved so well? He would have taken her in his strong
arms and kissed her passionately. If he was not himself it was because
he was ill. The shock had affected his memory! Poor darling husband,
he must be well nursed. A few days of her devoted care and he would be
all right again. Of course, it was nothing serious. Kenneth had led
too clean and wholesome a life for anything grave to be the matter. If
only he would come! God grant that he return to her as he went away!

As the unspoken prayer died away on her lips, there was the chugging of
an automobile stopping suddenly at the curb.

"_Les voici_!" cried Francois, dropping into his native tongue in his
excitement.

He threw open the wide doors and the next instant Ray ran up the steps.
Helen, weak and dizzy from nervous tension, feeling as if she were
about to faint, met her on the threshold.

"Kenneth!" she gasped. "Is he all right?"

"Certainly--he's fine. He's a little tired and nervous after the long
journey, and the blue spectacles he wears make him look different, but
he's all right."

The wife looked searchingly, eagerly at the young girl's face, as if
seeking to read there what she dreaded to ask, and it seemed to her
that the customary ring of sincerity was lacking in her sister's voice.

"Where is he--why isn't he with you?'

"Here he is now--don't you see him?"

Helen looked out. There came the tall, familiar figure she knew so
well, the square shoulders, the thick bushy hair, with its single white
lock so strangely isolated among the brown. Her heart fell as she saw
the blue glasses. They veiled from her view those dear blue eyes, so
kind and true. They made him look different. But what did she care as
long as he had come home to her? Even with the horrid glasses, that
dear form she would know in a thousand!

Slowly he came up the long flight of stone steps, weighted down by
traveling rugs and handbag, both of which he refused to surrender to
the obsequious Francois. Eagerly she rushed down the steps to meet
him, her eyes half-closed, ready to swoon from excitement and joy.
Nothing was said. He opened his arms. She put up her mouth, tenderly,
submissively. For a moment he seemed to hesitate. He held her tight
in his embrace, and just looked down at her. Then, as he felt the
warmth of her soft, yielding body next to his, and saw the partly
opened mouth, ready to receive his kiss, he bent down and fastened his
lips on hers.

CHAPTER XII

For one blissful, ecstatic moment Helen lay tight in his embrace,
nestling against the breast of the one being she loved better than
anyone else in the world, responding with involuntary vibrations of her
own body to the gust of fiery passion that swept his. But only for a
moment. The next instant she had torn herself violently free, and was
gazing, wonderingly, fearfully, up into his face, trying to penetrate
those glasses which veiled, as it were, the windows of his soul. Why
she broke away so abruptly from his embrace she could not herself have
explained. Something within her, some instinct to which her reason was
unable to give a name, made her body revolt against the unusual ardor
of the caress. Strange! Never before had she felt so embarrassed at
Kenneth's demonstrations of affection.

"How are you, dear?" she murmured, when at last she could find words.

She had not yet heard the sound of his beloved voice, and when at last
he answered her it seemed to her ears only like an echo of its former
self, so exhausted and wearied was he by what he had gone through.

"Very tired, sweetheart," he replied huskily. "I shall need a long
rest."

She led the way into the house and up the stairs, where everything had
been so elaborately prepared for his welcome. In the bedroom she
pointed with pride to the real Valenciennes lace coverlet put on in his
honor, and showed him the dressing-gown and slippers so lovingly laid
out. He looked at everything, but made no comment. She half expected
a few words of praise, but none were forthcoming. While affectionately
demonstrative he was unusually reticent. She wondered what worry he
could have on his mind to make him act so strangely and suddenly
Keralio's words of warning came to her mind. Was there a side to his
life of which she knew nothing? Were his thoughts elsewhere, even
while he was with her? Quickly there came a look of dismay and
anxiety, which he was not slow to notice. Instantly on his guard, he
murmured in a low tone:

"Forgive me, dear, I can't talk now. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my
eyes open."

Instantly her apprehension was forgotten in her desire to make him
comfortable.

"That's right, dear. You must be dead with fatigue. You'll take a
nice nap and when you wake up it will be time for dinner. I've planned
a nice little party to celebrate your return--only a few intimates--Mr.
Parker is coming, and Wilbur Steell, and a young man named Dick
Reynolds, an acquaintance of Wilbur's. You won't mind such old
friends, will you?"

He shook his head.

"No, indeed. I'm very tired, now, but I'll be all right in a few
minutes."

"Of course you will," she smiled, as she removed the handsome lace
coverlet from the bed. "No one will disturb you. My darling hubbie
can sleep as sound as a top, and, when he wakes, we'll talk a terrible
lot, won't we?" Looking up roguishly, as she smoothed his pillow for
him, she added shyly: "There are two pillows here now. There has been
only one while you were away----"

For the first time he seemed to evince interest in what she was saying.
His eyes flashed behind the blue spectacles, and his hands trembled, as
he quickly made a step forward and put his arm round her waist.

"There'll always be two in the future, won't there?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yes, of course there will," she laughed,

"To-night?" he insisted.

"Yes, of course," she said, her color heightening slightly under the
persistency of his gaze. What a foolish question! Changing the topic
she added, with a laugh: "Now, take your coat off, like a good boy, and
go to sleep. I'll go down and keep the house quiet. When it's time to
get up, I'll come back."

"Don't go yet," he murmured, looking at her ardently. Taking her hand
caressingly he tried to lead her to the sofa. "Sit down here. I won't
sleep yet. Let us talk. I have so much to say."

Firmly Helen withdrew from his embrace.

"No, no; I won't stay a moment," she said decisively. "Not now. You
must behave yourself. We'll talk all you want to to-night. But not
now. You are very tired. The sleep will do you good. Now be a good
boy--go to bed."

He tried to intercept her before she reached the door, but she was too
quick for him. She went out and was about to close the door behind her
when he called out:

"Please send Francois to me."

She nodded.

"Yes, dear, I will. Of course you need him. Why didn't I think of it
before?"

She closed the door and went downstairs. It was hard to believe that
he was back home. How long she had waited for this day, and, even now
it had come, the void did not seem filled. There still seemed
something wanting. What it was, she did not know, yet it was there.

In the dining-room she ran into Ray, who had her arms filled with
magnificent American beauty roses.

"Oh, how beautiful!" cried Helen enthusiastically. "Where did you get
those flowers?"

The young girl laughed. "They're a present from me and Wilbur--in
honor of Kenneth's arrival. Where is he?"

"Upstairs--he's going to lie down until dinner is ready. Poor
soul--he's almost dead with fatigue."

"Has he got the diamonds?"

Helen gasped. She hadn't thought of that. In all the excitement the
real object of her husband's trip to South Africa had quite escaped her
mind.

"I don't know," she said quickly. "I haven't asked him. We've hardly
exchanged a dozen words. He'll tell us later. Was nothing said about
them at the Customs? Didn't he declare them?"

"No--I thought it was strange. That's why I asked you if he had them.
Possibly he left them to be cut in Amsterdam."

Helen grew thoughtful.

"I don't know. He'll tell us later."

Ray filled the vases with the flowers, while Helen busied herself at
the buffet, getting out all the pretty silverware with which the dinner
table was to be decorated. The young girl hummed lightly as she
decorated the room with the fragrant blossoms.

"Isn't it lovely that Kenneth is back?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, indeed."

"I hardly knew him at first in those spectacles."

"I'm not surprised at that."

"If it hadn't been for that white patch of hair I don't think we could
have picked him out of the crowd. There was an awful crush there."

There was a pause, and then Helen asked:

"How do you think he looks?"

"About the same," replied the girl carelessly. "He doesn't seem in as
good spirits as when he went away. He is very quiet. He hardly spoke
a word to us on the way home. Possibly he has some business anxiety on
his mind."

"Did he ask about me?"

"Yes--you were his first question."

"Did you tell him about Dorothy?"

"That she was not so well? Yes."

"What did he say? Was he worried?"

"Not particularly. I think men are more sensible in those matters than
we women. He knows baby is well taken care of." Changing the subject,
the young girl went on: "I hope everybody will be jolly to-night. I've
made up my mind to have a good time."

Helen sighed.

"I'm feeling a little uneasy about Dorothy. I got a letter this
morning from Aunt Carrie, saying she was not feeling so well. The
doctor was going to see her to-day, and, if she got worse, they said
they'd telegraph."

Ray looked at her sister in consternation.

"What would you do then?"

"I would have to go at once to Philadelphia."

"And Kenneth just come home--oh, Helen!"

"I couldn't help it. Kenneth couldn't go. Somebody must go. The
child could not be left alone. Who should go better than its mother?"

Ray made a gesture of protest.

"Well, don't let's imagine the worst. Dorothy won't get worse.
To-morrow you'll get a reassuring letter, and your worries will be
over."

"I hope so," smiled Helen.

Leaving the task of sorting the knives and forks Ray came over to where
Helen was standing. The young girl pointed to all the vases filled
with the crimson roses.

"How do you like that?" she exclaimed.

"Beautiful!"

There was a brief silence, both women being preoccupied by their
thoughts, when Ray, in her usual vivacious, impulsive way, burst out:

"Sis, I have something to tell you."

Helen looked up quickly.

"Something to tell me--something good?"

"I'm so happy! I'm engaged at last."

"To Wilbur, of course?"

"Yes."

Helen gave an exclamation of joy.

"Oh, I'm so glad. When did it happen? Tell me all about it--quick."

"He proposed to-day, and I said yes. We're to be married in two
months."

The next moment the two women were in each other's arms.

"I'm so glad--so glad," murmured Helen. "I hope you'll both be very,
very happy."

"We certainly shall if we are like you and Kenneth. Wilbur says that
your example is the one thing that decided him to make the plunge."

Helen smiled.

"You'll have one advantage I don't enjoy. Your husband, being a
lawyer, won't be taking trips to South Africa all the time."

"Oh, I don't know," laughed the girl; "it's sometimes nice to lose
sight of each other for a time. The lovemaking is all the more furious
when your husband gets back."

"Yes--unless he happens to meet some other charmer on his travels."

"Oh, nonsense, Helen--men don't really have such adventures. That only
happens in novels."

"I hope so," murmured her sister.

"Oh, by the bye," exclaimed Ray, "who do you suppose we saw on the
dock?"

"Who?"

"That horrid creature--Signor Keralio."

Helen looked up in surprise.

"Keralio? What was he doing there? Did he speak to you?"

"No--he seemed to avoid us. Once I got lost for a moment in the crush,
and, as I turned, I thought I saw him talking earnestly to Kenneth and
Francois. Of course I must have been mistaken, for, when I finally
rejoined them, both denied having seen him!"

"Keralio!" murmured Helen. "How strange! That man seems to pursue us
like some evil genius. No matter where we go, he follows like a
shadow. Oh, I forgot all about Francois. Where is he?"

"Downstairs."

Helen touched a bell.

"Why do you need him?"

"Kenneth wants him. I forgot all about it. All his things need
putting away. The litter upstairs is simply terrible."

"There won't be much time for unpacking," objected Ray. "It's
half-past five already. We'll soon have to think of dressing for
dinner."

Suddenly the door opened and Francois appeared. He entered quietly,
stealthily, and, advancing to where his mistress was, stood in silence,
awaiting her orders.

"Your master wants you upstairs, Francois."

The man bowed.

"_Bien_, madame!"

"Tell Mr. Traynor not to keep you too long, because there's a lot of
work to be done downstairs before dinner."

"_Bien_, madame."

The man lingered in the room, arranging the chairs, and fussing about
the table, until he began to make Helen nervous. Peremptorily she said:

"You had better go, Francois; monsieur is waiting for you."

The valet bowed obsequiously, and left the room, shutting the door
carefully. Instead of proceeding immediately upstairs, he stopped for
a moment behind the closed door and listened intently. But, unable to
overhear the two women, who were conversing in an undertone, he hurried
upstairs toward his employer's bedroom. Arrived on the landing, he
went straight to the room, and, without stopping for the formality of
knocking, he turned the handle and went in.

CHAPTER XIII

Instead of finding his master resting from his fatigue, as Mrs. Traynor
had said, Francois discovered the new arrival very much awake. He was
sitting in front of Helen's bureau, eagerly perusing a bundle of
private letters tied with blue ribbon, which he had taken from a
drawer. As the door opened, he jumped up quickly, as if detected
committing a dishonorable action; but, when he saw who it was, his face
relaxed and he gave a grim nod of recognition.

"Lock the door!" he said in a whisper. "It won't do to have anyone
come in here now."

The valet turned the key, and, dropping entirely the obsequious manner
of the paid menial, threw himself carelessly into a chair. Taking from
his pocket a richly chased silver cigarette box, loot from former
houses where he had been employed, he struck a match on the highly
polished Circassian walnut chair, and proceeded to enjoy a smoke.

His companion looked at him anxiously.

"Well?" he demanded hoarsely. "Is it all right? What do they say?
Does anyone suspect?"

The Frenchman gracefully emitted from between his thin lips a thick
cloud of blue smoke, and broke into a laugh that, under the
circumstances, sounded strangely hollow and sinister.

"Suspect?" he chuckled. "Why should they suspect? Are you not ze same
man who went away--ze same build, ze same face, ze same voice, ze same
in every particular--except one. Zat you have not--_non_--you have not
ze education, ze fine manners, ze _savoir faire_ of monsieur." With
that expressive shrug of the shoulder, so characteristic of his nation,
he added: "_Mais que voulez vous_? We must do ze best we can."

His listener struck the brass bed-post savagely with his heavy fist.
With a burst of profanity he broke out:

"Yes, damn him! He had all the advantages. I had none. But it's my
turn now. I want all that's coming to me."

"Hush!" exclaimed the valet, raising his finger warningly. "Zey may
hear. Everything will be all right. We must be very careful. You
must not talk. You must avoid people. Let them think you sick, or
strange, or crazy, anything you like. But keep away from zem, or else
they soon discover that 'Handsome Jack,' ze penniless adventurer, is
quite a different person from ze accomplished and wealthy Monsieur
Kenneth Traynor."

"We can't expect to keep the game up long," interrupted the big fellow
moodily.

"We won't have to," replied his companion calmly. "Just enough time to
squeeze ze orange dry--that's all----"

Handsome looked up quickly. Savagely he retorted:

"Of which juice you and Keralio want a goodly share, don't you?"

The valet's greenish eyes flashed.

"Of course I do, and, what's more, I mean to get it." Changing his
free, careless tone to one tense with significance and menace he went
on: "Don't be a fool, Monsieur Handsome. Who put you up to this snap,
but me? Who knows what you did to monsieur out there on ze _veldt_,
better than me? Dead men tell no tales, but live ones do. Don't
forget that! If you want to keep clear of ze electric chair, you'll
keep your mouth shut, and play fair."

The gambler listened, his mouth twitching nervously, his eyes glowing
with sullen hatred.

"What do you and Keralio want? I gave you the diamonds--what more do
you expect?"

The valet laughed scoffingly.

"You gave him ze diamonds. Why? You were d----d glad to be rid of
zem. We can't do anything with zem now. We may have to wait months or
years before we can venture to cut zem up and dispose of zem. _Non_,
monsieur! If zey appeared on ze market now, ze news would be flashed
_immediatement_ to every corner of ze globe, and your career and mine
would come to a quick end. _Voila_!"

"Don't forget Keralio!" said Handsome, with a sneer.

"_Eh, bien_? Has he not earned it, Signor Keralio? Is it not because
of his courage and daring that you are here--ze master in this house?
Who but Keralio would have had ze nerve to carry ze thing through?"

Handsome shrugged his shoulders. Cynically he said:

"Oh, I don't know. It seems to me that Keralio is safe under cover,
while here I am, disporting myself in the limelight, with every eye
turned on me. I guess I prefer Keralio's job to mine----"

The valet's eyes flashed vindictively as he retorted:

"Could your puny brain have conceived this scheme which will make us
all rich? Keralio outlined ze whole plan to me directly he heard of
your existence. On our reaching Cape Town, after finding you starving
on ze _veldt_, I cabled him ze news. A few hours later he told me
exactly what to do. He knew you would do it. How, I do not know. He
is no ordinary man, Keralio. When I first saw you out zere, unkempt,
in rags, starving, I could have dropped dead from surprise. It never
occurred to me that you might be useful. But Keralio knew. He knows
everything. He also knew that you would accept his leadership, that
you would quickly get rid of monsieur, and secure ze diamonds. Was it
not his idea that you set fire to ze ship? And who set fire to ze
ship, _s'il vous plait_, when you refused? Who but your very humble
servant. And a hard, dangerous job, it was, too--catch me ever wanting
to do it again!"

"Not half so bad as mine. He put up a terrible fight before I threw
him overboard."

"Who--monsieur?"

"Yes--he fought like a wildcat, and he was fast getting the best of me,
when I managed to give him a rap on the head. That quieted him, and
over he went." With an exclamation of disgust, he added: "It was a
d----d nasty job. I'm sorry I ever went into it----"

"Sorry--you fool? _Sapristi_! Just think of this wonderful
opportunity. You have ze keys to his vaults, you have control of his
bank accounts." Lowering his voice, and, with a significant leer on
his face, he added "and you have--his wife!"

Handsome grinned, and the valet went on:

"_Precisement_! Madame is cold and haughty, like all zese American
women. It's not exactly my taste, but she's pretty and dainty, and----"

"Who are all these other people," interrupted the miner, "that man
Steell----"

"Yes, that is so. You must know everyone. You must make a study of
each, so as to avoid making bad breaks. Monsieur Steell is a lawyer.
He's in love with madame's sister, Miss Ray. You've known him all your
life, went to school with him, and all that sort of thing. Say 'yes'
to everything he says. That's your cue at present. Talk as little as
you can, and agree with everybody. The man you must talk with most is
Monsieur Parker. He is president of the mining company. Happily he's
rather shortsighted, so he won't notice anything. He's the man to whom
you'll have to explain ze loss of ze diamonds. He'll be here to-night
for dinner, so you'd better get your story ready."

"What can I say?"

"Say that in ze panic your belt worked loose, you had to dive into ze
water. When you were dragged into ze lifeboat the belt was gone, do
you understand?"

"Yes--but will they believe it?"

"They must believe it. There'll be an awful fuss, of course, but
they'll get over it. No suspicion can attach to you."

"He's coming to-night--this man Parker?"

"Yes, to-night. He'll be here for dinner. He----"

Before the valet could complete the sentence there was a knock on the
door and Helen outside called out:

"May I come in?"

Instantly the valet jumped up and assumed once more his deferential
demeanor. The gambler hurriedly shut the bureau drawers and put on the
blue spectacles.

The door opened and Helen entered.

Alert as the Frenchman was, he was not quick enough to quite conceal
from the wife that his present obsequious manner had been suddenly
assumed for her benefit directly she had entered the room. She had
overheard voices, as she reached the landing, and the abrupt manner in
which these sounds had ceased was not entirely natural. It had also
seemed to her that the valet's tone had had a ring of familiarity about
it which she had never known it to have before. Could it be possible
that they were discussing matters which were to be kept from her? If
so, her husband already had secrets in which not she but his valet
shared. She recalled Keralio's cynical smile, as he had whispered:
"Husbands only tell their wives half." Perhaps he had spoken the
truth. Perhaps at this very moment she was degraded, insulted in her
womanhood by a man who was secretly unloyal to her. The very thought
went through her like a knife-thrust. All her life, every hour she had
devoted to her husband. Even now she did not like to even harbor a
shade of distrust, but his strange behavior since his return, this
earnest conversation behind closed doors with a menial she despised and
distrusted--all this could not but add to her anxiety. Calmly, she
asked:

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