An Amiable Charlatan

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"Then that dinner was a plant!" Mr. Cullen interrupted swiftly. "I knew
it!"

I ignored the interruption.

"For the first time," I repeated; "and I find them both most delightful
companions. As to how far our acquaintance may progress, that is entirely
a matter for chance to decide. You have doubtless come here with very good
motives, but I see no reason why I should accept your statements
concerning Mr. Parker and his daughter. You understand? My suggestion is
that you are mistaken. Until I have proved them to be other than they
represent themselves to be," I added with infinite subtlety, "I shall
continue to derive pleasure from their society."

Mr. Cullen rose at once to his feet.

"My warning has been given, sir," he said. "It only remains for me now to
wish you good morning, and to assure you most regretfully that your name
will be added to those whom Scotland Yard thinks it well to watch and that
your movements from place to place will be noted."

"I trust that Scotland Yard will benefit," I replied politely, and showed
him out.

At half past ten I rang up 3771A Gerrard. The telephone was answered
almost immediately by a man, apparently a servant. I inquired for Mr.
Parker and in a moment or two I heard his voice at the telephone.

"This is Joseph H. Parker speaking. Who are you?"

"I am Paul Walmsley. You told me I might ring up between ten and eleven."

"Sure!" was the prompt reply. "My dear fellow, I am delighted to hear from
you. None the worse for our little adventure last night, I hope?"

"Not in the least," I assured him. "On the contrary I am looking forward
to another."

"You shall have one," was the delighted answer.

"What about--What is it, Eve? Excuse me for one moment, Mr. Walmsley."

Mr. Parker was apparently dragged away from the telephone. I waited
impatiently. He returned in a moment or two. His voice sounded as though
he were a little irritated.

"Sorry," he said. "I was going to make a little suggestion to you for this
evening, but my daughter here doesn't fall in with it. They will have
their own way--these girls."

"It's very disappointing!" I said. "Don't you think you could prevail on
her?"

"Look here!" Mr. Parker continued. "I'll tell you what: Let's meet
accidentally at dinner tonight. I'll talk Eve round before then. You drop
into Stephano's for dinner at about seven-thirty. Then, when you see us
there, you can come over and join us."

"Thank you very much," I replied heartily. "By the by, I suppose you
couldn't tell me your address? I should like to send Miss Parker some
flowers."

Mr. Parker obviously hesitated.

"Better not," he decided regretfully--"not this morning, at any rate. Eve
is a bit peculiar; and if you come into our little scheme and it goes
wrong the less you know of us the better. See you later!"

I did see Mr. Parker later, but not quite so late as the time appointed.
He was in the American bar at the Milan when I looked in there just before
luncheon and was talking to two of the most ferocious and objectionable-
looking ruffians I had ever seen in my life. He glanced at me blandly, but
without any sign of recognition, save that I fancied I caught the
slightest twitch of his left eyebrow. I took the hint and did not join
him. My reward came presently; for, after leaving the room with his two
acquaintances, Mr. Parker strolled back again, and coming straight over to
me clapped me on the shoulder.

"This is capital!" he exclaimed. "We meet tonight?"

"Without a doubt," I assured him.

He drew me a little on one side.

"Say," he inquired, scratching the side of his chin, "have you any
objection to a bit of a scrap?"

"Not the slightest," I replied, "so long as Miss Parker is out of it!"

"Good boy!" Mr. Parker pronounced. "Yes; we'll keep her out of it, all
right. I shall count on you then. Just keep yourself in reserve. We'll
talk it over at dinner time. You just stroll in casually and I'll call you
over. By the by," he added, lowering his voice, "did you see those two
fellows I was with?"

"I saw them!" I confessed. "They were just a trifle noticeable."

Mr. Parker came a little nearer to me. He accentuated his words by beating
on the palm of his left hand with two fingers of his right.

"Absolutely, my dear Walmsley, two of the most unmitigated and desperate
ruffians on either continent!"

"They looked it," I agreed heartily.

"Their record," Mr. Parker continued--"their police record, I mean--is one
of the most wonderful things ever put on paper. The marvelous thing is
how, even for a few minutes, they should be out of prison! Did you notice
the one with the cast in his eye?"

"I did," I admitted.

"They used to call him Angel Jake," Mr. Parker proceeded confidentially.
"He was sentenced to death once for shooting a policeman, but there was
some technicality--he was tried in the wrong court--so he got off."

"A very interesting acquaintance," I remarked with utterly wasted sarcasm.

"They're fairly up to their necks in trouble, both of them, on the other
side," Mr. Parker declared with relish; "and they're kind o' looking for
it here."

I took him by the arm and led him out of the bar into a retired corner of
the smoking room. We sat upon a divan and had the room almost to
ourselves.

"How is Miss Parker this morning?" I asked.

"Fine!" her father replied. "I told her about the flowers and it made her
quite homesick. Girls miss that sort of thing, you know; and over here,
living under a sort of cloud, as it were, one can't risk making many
friends."

It was a very good opening for me and I took advantage of it.

"Why do you choose to live under a cloud, Mr. Parker?" I asked.

"My dear fellow," he replied earnestly, "I don't altogether choose. I have
been frank with you. It's my life."

"If it were only a question of money----" I began tentatively.

"A question of money!" Mr. Parker interrupted. "Isn't everything a
question of money? Say, what do you mean exactly?"

"I mean that I admire your daughter, sir--I admire her immensely," I told
him. "If she'd have me I'd marry her to-morrow, I am not what you would
call a wealthy man, but I have enough money for all reasonable purposes."

Mr. Parker was clearly staggered. He stroked his waistcoat for a moment in
an absent sort of way.

"This takes my breath away!" he exclaimed. "Let us understand exactly what
it means."

"It means," I told him bluntly, "that I'll make a settlement upon your
daughter and give you enough to live on."

He looked first at me and then at the carpet. He began to whistle softly.

"And they always told me," he murmured under his breath, "that you
Britishers were so cautious! Why, you know nothing about us at all except
what I've told you, and goodness knows that isn't much of a
recommendation! Besides, I may not have told you half!"

"I am willing to take my risk," I declared. "I simply don't care. Once in
a lifetime a man has that feeling for a woman. If he is wise he goes nap
on it. I have never had it before and I am not going to let go. I feel
that if I do I may regret it all my life. I don't want any other woman in
this world except your daughter, and what I possess in life worth having I
am willing to give to make sure of her."

Mr. Parker sat for several moments in profound silence. I could not make
out what his mood was, He seemed neither unduly depressed nor elated. He
was obviously puzzled, however--puzzled to know precisely what to do or
what to say. He sat in the middle of the divan with one thumb in his
waistcoat pocket and the other hand flat upon the table. His round face
was innocent of smile or frown. Yet I knew he was taking what I had said
seriously, though for some reason or other it did not seem to give him
unqualified pleasure.

"Well, well!" he said at last. "You've spoken up like a man, anyway--and
like a man who knows what he wants. I can't tell how to answer you. I have
never lived on any one yet. Sponging's never been in my line. I have
enjoyed living on my wits. And Eve--she's a little that way, too. Makes me
kind of sorry I've let her go about with me so much. It's a wonderful
cloak of respectability you'd throw over us; but I'm wondering whether
it's large enough!"

"As my wife--" I began.

"Oh, yes! you'd gather her in all right to start with," he interrupted;
"but there are other things," he added, turning a little toward me and
looking me in the face. "Suppose she didn't turn out just as you thought!
She's a wild, high-spirited sort of creature--is Eve. She loves the music
and the rattle of life. I can't fancy her in one of those out-of-the-way,
God-forsaken little mudholes you call an English village, sitting in an
early-Victorian drawing-room all the afternoon, waiting for the vicar's
wife to come to tea, and taking a walk before dinner for entertainment,
with an umbrella and mackintosh."

"You've been reading Jane Austen," I told him.

"Never heard of her," he replied promptly. "I once--but never mind. Just
keep this to yourself for a bit, my boy. If we come to any arrangement
there are one or two things we've got on that we might have to drop. We'll
think this over. So long until this evening."

He bustled away then, evidently anxious to escape any further
conversation. I went about my business, which consisted of a visit to my
lawyer's and a couple of rubbers of bridge at my club before dinner.

At half past seven precisely I strolled into Stephano's. I had scarcely
taken my table before Mr. Parker and Eve entered. Contrary to his usual
custom, Mr. Parker was wearing a dress coat, white waistcoat and white
tie; and Eve looked exquisite in a low-necked gown of white silk. Mr.
Parker, according to his promise, at once beckoned me over.

"My dear boy," he said, "I insist upon it that you sit down and dine with
us. Last night I dined with you. To be literal, I ate off your plate.
Tonight I return the compliment."

I had no idea of refusing, but I was watching Eve with some anxiety. Her
attitude seemed a little negative. However, she welcomed me pleasantly.

"Well," she asked, "is your conscience beginning to prick yet?"

"My conscience," I replied, "is about as imaginary a thing as my early-
Victorian drawing-room. I can assure you I have the most profound
admiration for your father. I think he is one of the cleverest men I ever
met."

She seemed a little taken aback. My tone, I felt quite sure, was
convincing.

"Of course," she remarked, "it is possible I have formed a wrong idea of
Englishmen. I have met only one or two."

"I should say it is highly probable," I agreed. "What scheme of villainy
is before us to-night? I claim a share in it at any rate."

She shook her head.

"Not to-night, I am afraid."

Mr. Parker, with the menu in front of him, was busy with the waiter and a
_maitre d'hotel_. I dropped my voice a little.

"Why not? Are you going to the theater?"

"To the opera."

"You love music?" I asked.

She leaned a little toward me. Her hair almost brushed my cheek as she
whispered:

"We love jewelry!"

I flatter myself that not a muscle of my face moved.

"No place like the opera!" I remarked. "You should do well there with a
little luck."

This time I certainly scored. She looked at me fixedly for a moment. Then
she laughed softly.

"I want a pearl necklace," she said.

"What about the one you have on?"

She held it out toward me.

"Imitations, unfortunately," she sighed. "They may look very nice, but
they don't feel like the real thing."

"Why can't I go to the opera with you?" I suggested.

"Because there are no vacant seats anywhere near ours," she replied. "You
see we happen to know whom we are going to sit near."

"Anyhow, I think I shall go," I decided, "I may be able to come and talk
to you between the acts at any rate."

Mr. Parker, having finished giving his orders, joined in the conversation,
and we dined together quite cheerily. For educated Americans they seemed
very ignorant of English life, and I was not surprised to hear that it was
their first visit to Europe. They listened with interest to a great deal
that I told them. It was only as we were preparing to leave the place that
I asked Mr. Parker a definite question.

"Tell me," I whispered, "have you really any plans for to-night?"

He nodded. "Sure! We are in luck just now. There's nothing like backing
it."

"Are those fellows I saw you with this morning at the Milan in it? If so I
am going to take Miss Parker away. There are limits--"

He patted me on the back.

"That little affair is off for to-night at any rate. A lady we are very
anxious to meet is going to the opera. The little girl wants a pearl
necklace. Well, we shall see!"

"You've thought over what I said? Have you mentioned it to her?"

"Only kind of hinted at it. It's no good putting it too straight to her.
She's got the bit between her teeth and she'll need to be humored."

Eve had gone to fetch her cloak and we were alone outside the door. I
looked at him steadfastly--he was so very pink and white, so very
cheerful, so utterly optimistic!

"You've never seen the inside of an English prison, have you, Mr. Parker?"
I asked.

He stared at me blankly.

"I am not thinking about you or myself," I went on. "She's so dainty and
sweet! She looks like a child who has never known an hour of rough usage
in her life. They wouldn't leave her much of that, you know."

I had certainly succeeded in making an impression this time. Mr. Parker's
smooth forehead was wrinkled; his face was clouded.

"You are right, Mr. Walmsley," he admitted. "I wish--I wish she would
listen to reason. We'll have a talk together--the three of us--soon.
You've no idea how difficult it is! She doesn't know fear--can't realize
danger. Hush! Here she comes. It will only set her against you if she
thinks you are trying to influence me behind her back."

Mr. Parker's car was waiting and we drove together to Covent Garden. I
left them in the vestibule and went to call on some of my friends. My
sister had a box in the second tier and I was fortunate enough to find her
there and alone with her husband. Almost directly underneath us in the
stalls Mr. Parker and Eve were sitting; and next Mr. Parker was a woman
wearing a pearl necklace. I asked my sister her name. She raised her
lorgnette and looked over the side of the box.

"Lady Orstline," she told me. "Her husband is a South African
millionaire."

"Are those real pearls she is wearing?" I inquired.

"My dear Paul," she laughed, "why not? Her husband is enormously wealthy
and they say that her jewels are wonderful. Unlike so many of those
people, she really does select very fine stones, independent of size.
Those pearls she is wearing now, for instance, are quite small, but their
luster is exquisite. What an extraordinary fat man is sitting next her--
and what a pretty girl!"

"Americans," I remarked.

"They look it," she agreed. "Quite the Gibson type of girl, isn't she?"

The curtain went up and we turned our attention to the stage. As a rule I
find music soothing; but that night proved an exception--perhaps because
my moderately well-ordered life had crumbled into pieces; because I was
conscious of a new and overmastering passion--the music appealed to me in
an altogether different way. My enjoyment was no longer impersonal--a
matter of the brain and the judgment. I felt the excitement of it
throbbing in my pulses. The gloomy, half-lit auditorium seemed full of
strange suggestions. I felt in real and actual touch with the great things
that throbbed beneath. I was no longer an auditor--a looker-on. I had
become a participator.

The hours passed as though in a dream. I talked to my sister and her
husband, and exchanged the usual gossip with their callers. I even paid a
call or two on my own account; but I have no recollection of whom I went
to see or what we talked about. I had no chance to visit either Mr. Parker
or Eve, for neither of them left their places and they were in the middle
of a row; but I took good care that we were close together in the
vestibule toward the end. With a little shiver I saw that Lady Orstline
was there too--next Mr. Parker. I was a few feet behind them both, with my
sister. I found myself watching almost feverishly.

As usual there was a block outside, and the few yards between us and the
door seemed interminable. I had none of the optimism of those others. I
was filled with vague fears of some impending disaster. Suddenly, with a
shiver, I recognized Cullen, scarcely a couple of yards away, also
watching, wedged in among the throng. His lips were drawn closely
together; his opera hat was well over his forehead; his eyes never left
Mr. Parker. He looked to me there like a lean-faced rat preparing for its
spring.

I followed the exact direction of his steadfast gaze and I became cold
with apprehension. Lady Orstline was just in front of me; by her side was
Eve, and immediately behind her Mr. Parker, I tried to lean over, but in
the crush it was impossible.

"Some one you want to speak to, Paul?" my sister asked.

"There's a man there--if I can only get at him."

The little crowd in front of us was suddenly thrown into disorder by
having to let through two people whose carriage had been called. We seemed
to lose ground in the confusion, for a moment or two later I noticed Lady
Orstline standing outside the door, and my heart sank as I realized that
her neck was bare. Almost at the same instant I saw her hand fly up and
heard her voice.

"My necklace!" she called out. "Policeman, don't let any one pass out! My
necklace has been stolen--my pearls!"

The confusion that followed was indescribable. The doors were almost
barricaded. My sister and her husband and I were allowed through easily
enough, as we were known to be subscribers, but almost every one else
seemed to be undergoing a sort of cross-examination. My brother-in-law was
disposed to be irritable.

"Why can't the silly woman look after her jewels?" he exclaimed. "Another
advertisement, I suppose."

"Can we drop you anywhere, Paul?" my sister inquired. "Or would you like
to give us some supper?"

I had been staring out of the window. There was not a sign anywhere of Eve
or her father; nor had I been able to catch a glimpse of Mr. Cullen.

"I am sorry," I replied; "but I am supping with some friends at
Stephano's. Could you set me down there?"

My sister raised her eyebrows as she gave the order. We were already in
the Strand.

"Really, Paul," she remonstrated, "at your time of life--you are thirty-
four years old, mind--I think you might leave Stephano's to the other
generation!"

"Second childhood!" I explained as I descended. "In any case I really have
an appointment here. Give you supper any other night with pleasure. Many
thanks!"

My first intention had been not to enter the place at all, but to return
at once to Covent Garden. Some impulse, however, prompted me to glance
round the room first. To my amazement Eve and her father were already
seated at their usual table--Eve drawing off her gloves and her father
with the wine list in his hand. I made my way toward them. I suppose my
expression indicated a certain stupefaction, for directly I got there Eve
began to laugh softly up into my face.

"We aren't ghosts!" she declared. "Did you think _you_ were the only
person who could leave the opera house in a hurry?"

"I saw you in the vestibule," I ventured. "I never saw you get away."

"No more did our friend Cullen," Mr. Parker remarked, smiling. "I really
am beginning to feel sorry for that man. We were within a yard or two of
him and he was watching us good and hard. I think he had an idea that Eve
had a weakness for pearls."

"Oh, don't!" I exclaimed rather sharply. "Even in joke it isn't exactly
wise, is it, with people passing all the time?"

"Joke!" Mr. Parker repeated. "Precious little joke about it, I can assure
you. I dare say it looked simple enough to you, but it was really quite a
complicated business. Never mind, Eve has her pearls--and that's the great
thing."

Then he thrust his hand into his trousers pocket and, without the least
attempt at concealment, produced and plumped upon the table in front of
him the pearl necklace which only a few minutes before I had seen upon the
neck of Lady Orstline.

"Look much better on Eve when they've been re-strung, won't they?" he
observed. "Gee whiz! What lovely stones they are!"

"Put it away!" I gasped. "For Heaven's sake, put it away!"

"Why should I?" he asked coolly.

My heart suddenly seemed to stop beating. I felt as though the end of the
world had come. With the light of triumph ablaze in his narrow black eyes,
Mr. Cullen was standing by our table!

"Good evening, Mr. Parker!" he said in a tone from which he struggled to
keep the note of triumph. "Good evening, young lady!"

The hand of Mr. Parker had suddenly covered the pearl necklace. Mr. Cullen
was looking steadily toward it.

"I trust," he continued, "that my arrival was not inopportune. I haven't
interrupted anything, have I--any little celebration, or anything of that
sort?"

"On the contrary, we are always pleased to see you," Mr. Parker declared
warmly. "Sit right down, Mr. Cullen! You'll join us, I trust? We were just
thinking of ordering a little supper."

Mr. Cullen shook his head. "Perhaps," he advised, "it would be better to
postpone that order."

"Postpone it?" Mr. Parker repeated, glancing at the clock. "Why, it's late
enough now. Good Heavens, is that the time?"

Mr. Cullen and I both glanced at the clock at the other end of the room.
It was twenty minutes to twelve. The detective looked back with a smile.

"You are a past master, Mr. Parker," he said, "in the accomplishment that,
I believe, in your country goes by the name of bluff; but there are
limits, you know. I shall have to ask you and your daughter and Mr.
Walmsley here to accompany me at once to Bow Street. And," he added,
suddenly leaning across the table, "move your right hand, please! Don't
make a disturbance--for Luigi's sake! If you want trouble you can have
it."

Mr. Parker raised his hand at once.

"Trouble?" he echoed. "That's the last thing I'm looking for."

Mr. Cullen smiled grimly.

"Ah! I thank you," he said. "A pearl necklace, I see! You must allow me to
take charge of this, please."

Mr. Parker's look of surprise was admirably done.

"That is my daughter's necklace," he explained. "The fastening has become
loose."

"Exactly!" Mr. Cullen sneered. "I am now going to ask you all three to
come with me without any further delay to Bow Street."

"This man is mad!" Mr. Parker sighed, leaning back in his place--"stark,
staring mad! His interference with my meals is becoming unwarrantable."

"If you take my advice you will avoid a scene," the detective said,
leaning a little over the table. "Believe me, I am not to be trifled with.
If you do not come willingly there are other means. I am simply trying to
avoid a disturbance in a public restaurant."

Mr. Parker rose reluctantly to his feet.

"Eve, dear," he said, "I suppose we may as well obey this very autocratic
person. The sooner we go the sooner we shall be back to supper. Mr.
Walmsley, I owe you my most profound apologies. I had no idea when I asked
you to join us that you would become involved in anything disagreeable."

"Don't mind me," I begged him. "I am glad to come. Perhaps we had better
get it over as soon as possible."

"We shall be back," Mr. Parker explained to Luigi, who had strolled up to
see what was happening, "in twenty minutes. Prepare, if you please, three
oyster cocktails, some grilled cutlets, and saute potatoes. Thank you,
Luigi. In twenty minutes, mind!"

We passed out toward the entrance. Mr. Cullen was walking with almost
professional proximity to his companion. Eve and I were a few steps in the
rear.

"Eve," I whispered, drawing her for a moment close to me, "remember that
whatever comes of this--whatever happens--there is no word I have ever
said to you, or to your father about you, which I do not mean and shall
not always mean."

She looked at me a little curiously. From the first her own demeanor had
been singularly unmoved. During the last few seconds, however, she had
grown paler. She suddenly took my hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"You really are a little more than nice!" she said.

We drove to the police station and Mr. Cullen ushered us at once into a
private room, where an inspector was seated at a table.

"Mr. Hennessey, sir," he began, "I have a charge of theft against this man
and his daughter. I watched them at the opera house to-night. At the
entrance they were both of them hustling Lady Orstline. As you may have
heard, she cried out suddenly that her pearl necklace had been stolen. I
rushed for these two, but by some means or other they got away. I followed
them to Stephano's restaurant and discovered them with the necklace on the
table in front of them; The man Parker was showing it to the other two. He
attempted to conceal it, but I was just in time."

The inspector nodded.

"Very good, Mr. Cullen," he said. "Where is the necklace?"

The detective produced it proudly and laid it upon the table before him.
The inspector dipped his pen in the ink.

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