_ CHAPTER III
When they give you a mask at a ball they also give you the key to all manner of folly and impudence. Even stupid persons become witty, and the witty become correspondingly daring. For all I knew, the Blue Domino at my side might be Jones' wife, or Brown's, or Smith's, or even Green's; but so long as I was not certain, it mattered not in what direction my whimsical fancy took me. (It is true that ordinarily Jones and Brown and Smith and Green do not receive invitations to attend masquerades at fashionable hunt clubs; but somehow they seem to worry along without these equivocal honors, and prosper. Still, there are persons in the swim named Johnes and Smythe and Browne and Greene. Pardon this parenthesis!)
As I recollected the manner in which I had self-invited the pleasure of my company to this carnival at the Blankshire Hunt Club, I smiled behind my mask. Nerves! I ought to have been a professor of clinics instead of an automobile agent. But the whole affair appealed to me so strongly I could not resist it. I was drawn into the tangle by the very fascination of the scheme. I was an interloper, but nobody knew it. The ten of hearts in my pocket did not match the backs of those cards regularly issued. But what of that? Every one was ignorant of the fact. I was safe inside; and all that was romantic in my system was aroused. There are always some guests who can not avail themselves of their invitations; and upon this vague chance I had staked my play. Besides, I was determined to disappear before the hour of unmasking. I wasn't going to take any unnecessary risks. I was, then, fairly secure under my Capuchin's robe.
Out of my mind slipped the previous adventures of the evening. I forgot, temporarily, the beautiful unknown at Mouquin's. I forgot the sardonic-lipped stranger I had met in Friard's. I forgot everything save the little ticket that had accidentally slipped into my package, and which announced that some one had rented a blue domino.
And here was a Blue Domino at my side. Just simply dying to have me talk to her!
"I am madly in love with you," I began. "I have followed you often; I have seen you in your box at the opera; I have seen you whirl up Fifth Avenue in your fine barouche; and here at last I meet you!" I clasped my hands passionately.
"My beautiful barouche! My box at the opera!" the girl mimicked. "What a cheerful Ananias you are!"
"Thou art the most enchanting creature in all the universe. Thou art even as a turquoise, a patch of radiant summer sky, eyes of sapphire, lips--"
"Archaic, very archaic," she interrupted.
"Disillusioned in ten seconds!" I cried dismally. "How could you?"
She laughed.
"Have you no romance? Can you not see the fitness of things? If you have not a box at the opera, you ought at least to make believe you have. History walks about us, and you call the old style archaic! That hurts!"
"Methinks, Sir Monk--"
"There! That's more like it. By my halidom, that's the style!"
"Odds bodkins, you don't tell me!" There was a second ripple of laughter from behind the mask. It was rare music.
"I _could_ fall in love with you!"
"There once was a Frenchman who said that as nothing is impossible, let us believe in the absurd. I might be old enough to be your grandmother,"--lightly.
"Perish the thought!"
"Perish it, indeed!"
"The mask is the thing!" I cried enthusiastically. "You can make love to another man's wife--"
"Or to your own, and nobody is the wiser,"--cynically.
"We are getting on."
"Yes, we are getting on, both in years and in folly. What are you doing in a monk's robe? Where is your motley, gay fool?"
"I have laid it aside for the night. On such occasions as this, fools dress as wise men, and wise men as fools; everybody goes about in disguise."
"How would you go about to pick out the fools?"--curiously.
"Beginning with myself--"
"Thy name is also Candor!"
"Look at yonder Cavalier. He wabbles like a ship in distress, in the wild effort to keep his feet untangled from his rapier. I'll wager he's a wealthy plumber on week-days. Observe Anne of Austria! What arms! I'll lay odds that her great-grandmother took in washing. There's Romeo, now, with a pair of legs like an old apple tree. The freedom of criticism is mine to-night! Did you ever see such ridiculous ideas of costume? For my part, the robe and the domino for me. All lines are destroyed; nothing is recognizable. My, my! There's Harlequin, too, walking on parentheses."
The Blue Domino laughed again.
"You talk as if you had no friends here,"--shrewdly.
"But which is my friend and which is the man to whom I owe money?"
"What! Is your tailor here then?"
"Heaven forbid! Strange, isn't it, when a fellow starts in to pay up his bills, that the tailor and the undertaker have to wait till the last."
"The subject is outside my understanding."
"But you have dressmakers."
"I seldom pay dressmakers."
"Ah! Then you belong to the most exclusive set!"
"Or perhaps I make my own dresses--"
"Sh! Not so loud. Supposing some one should overhear you?"
"It was a slip of the tongue. And yet, you should be lenient to all."
"Kind heart! Ah, I wonder what all those interrogation points mean--the black domino there?"
"Possibly she represents Scandal."
"Scandal, then, is symbolized by the interrogation point?"
"Yes. Whoever heard of scandal coming to a full stop, that is to say, a period."
"I learn something every minute. A hundred years ago you would have been a cousin to Mademoiselle de Necker."
"Or Madame de Stael."
"Oh, if you are married--"
"I shall have ceased to interest you?"
"On the contrary. Only, marriage would account for the bitterness of your tone. What does the Blue Domino represent?"
"The needle of the compass." She stretched a sleeve out toward me and I observed for the first time the miniature compasses woven in the cloth. Surely, one does not rent a costume like this.
"I understand now why you attracted me. Whither will you guide me?'"--sentimentally.
"Through dark channels and stormy seas, over tropic waters, 'into the haven under the hill.'"
"Oh, if you go to quoting Tennyson, it's all up with me. _Are_ you married?"
"One can easily see that at any rate _you_ are not."
"Explain."
"Your voice lacks the proper and requisite anxiety. It is always the married woman who enjoys the mask with thoroughness. She knows her husband will be watching her; and jealousy is a good sign."
"You are a philosopher. Certainly you must be married."
"Well, one does become philosophical--after marriage."
"But are you married?"
"I do not say so."
"Would you like to be?"
"I have my share of feminine curiosity. But I wonder,"--ruminating, "why they do not give masquerades oftener."
"That is easily explained. Most of us live masquerades day by day, and there might be too much of a good thing."
"That is a bit of philosophy that goes well with your robe. Indeed, what better mask is there than the human countenance?"
"If we become serious, we shall put folly out of joint," said I, rising. "And besides, we shall miss the best part of this dance."
She did not hesitate an instant. I led her to the floor, and we joined the dancers. She was as light as a feather, a leaf, the down of the thistle; mysterious as the Cumaean Sibyl; and I wondered who she might be. The hand that lay on my sleeve was as white as milk, and the filbert-shaped horn of the finger-tips was the tint of rose leaves. _Was_ she connected with the ticket in my pocket? I tried to look into her eyes, but in vain; nothing could I see but that wisp of golden hair which occasionally brushed my chin as with a surreptitious caress. If only I dared remain till the unmasking! I pressed her hand. There was an answering pressure, but its tenderness was destroyed by the low laughter that accompanied it.
"Don't be silly!" she whispered.
"How can I help it?"
"True; I forgot you were a fool in disguise."
"What has Romance done to you that you should turn on her with the stuffed-club, Practicality?"
"She has never paid any particular attention to me; perhaps that is the reason."
As we neared a corner I saw the Honorable Julius again. He stretched forth his death's-head mask.
"Beware the ten of hearts!" he croaked.
Hang his impudence! . . . The Blue Domino turned her head with a jerk; and instantly I felt a shiver run through her body. For a moment she lost step. I was filled with wonder. In what manner could the ten of hearts disturb _her_? I made up my mind to seek out the noble Roman and learn just how much he knew about that disquieting card.
The music ceased.
"Now, run away with your benedictions," said the Blue Domino breathlessly.
"Shall I see you again?"--eagerly.
"If you seek diligently." She paused for a moment, like a bird about to take flight. "Positive, fool; comparative, fooler; superlative, foolest!"
And I was left standing alone: What the deuce did she mean by that?
After all, there might be any number of blue dominoes in the land; and it seemed scarcely credible that a guest at the Hunt Club would go to a costumer's for an outfit. (I had gone to a costumer's, but my case was altogether different. I was an impostor.) I hunted up _Imperator Rex_. It was not long ere we came face to face, or, to speak correctly, mask to mask.
"What do you know about the ten of hearts?" I began with directness.
"I am a shade; all things are known to me."
"You may be a lamp-shade, for all I care. What do you know about the ten of hearts?"
"Beware of it,"--hollowly. From under his toga he produced a ten of hearts!
My knees wabbled, and there was a sense of looseness about my collar. The fellow _knew_ I was an impostor. Why didn't he denounce me?
"Is the back of your card anything like this one?"--ironically. "I dare say it isn't. But have your good time, grave monk; doubtless you are willing that the fiddlers shall be paid." And wrapping his toga about him majestically, he stalked away, leaving me staring dumfoundedly after his receding form.
Discovered!
The deuce! Had I been attired like yon Romeo, I certainly should have taken to my heels; but a fellow can not run in a Capuchin's gown, and retain any dignity. I would much rather be arrested than laughed at. I stood irresolute. What was to be done? How much did he know? Did he know who I was? And what was his object in letting me run my course? I was all at sea. . . . Hang the grisly old Roman! I shut my teeth; I would see the comedy to its end, no matter what befell. If worst came to worst, there was always Teddy Hamilton to fall back on.
I made off toward the smoking-room, rumbling imprecations against the gods for having given me the idea of attending this masquerade, when it would have been cheaper and far more comfortable to go to the theater.
But as soon as I entered the smoking-room, I laughed. It was a droll scene. Here we were, all of us, trying savagely to smoke a cigar or cigarette through the flabby aperture designated in a mask as the mouth. It was a hopeless job; for myself, I gave it up in disgust.
Nobody dared talk naturally for fear of being identified. When a man did open his mouth it was only to commit some banal idiocy, for which, during office hours, he would have been haled to the nearest insane asylum and labeled incurable. Added to this was a heat matching Sahara's and the oppressive odor of weltering paint.
By Jove! Only one man knew that the back of my card was unlike the others: the man who had picked it up in old Friard's curio-shop, the man who had come to Blankshire with me! I knew now. He had been there buying a costume like myself. He had seen me on the train, and had guessed the secret. I elbowed my way out of the smoking-room. It wouldn't do me a bit of harm to ask a few polite questions of Mr. Caesar of the sardonic laugh.
But I had lost the golden opportunity. Caesar had gone to join the shades of other noble Romans; in vain I searched high and low for him. Once I ran into Hamilton. His face was pale and disturbed and anxious.
"What's the trouble, Hamilton?" I asked, with forced gaiety.
He favored me with a penetrating glance.
"The very devil is the trouble," he growled. "Several of the ladies have begun to miss valuable jewels. Anne of Austria has lost her necklace and Queen Elizabeth is without a priceless comb; altogether, about ten thousand dollars."
"Robbery?" I looked at him aghast.
"That's the word. Curse the luck! There is always something of this sort happening to spoil the fun. But whoever has the jewels will not get away with them."
"What are you going to do?"
"I have already sent for the village police. Now I shall lock all the doors and make every man and woman produce cards for identification,"--abruptly leaving me.
Thunderbolts out of heaven! My knees and collar bothered me again; the first attack was trifling compared to this second seizure. How the devil was I to get out?
"Are you searching for me?" inquired a soft voice at my elbow.
I turned instantly. The Blue Domino had come back to me.
"I have been searching for you everywhere," I said gallantly.
"Oh! but that is a black one. Never mind; the fib was well meant."
I led her over to a secluded nook, within a few feet of the door which gave entrance to the club cellars. This door I had been bearing in mind for some time. It is well to know your topography. The door was at the left of the band platform. There was a twin-door on the other side. We sat down.
[Illustration: I led her over to a secluded nook. We sat down.]
"Have you heard the news?" I asked.
"No. Has some one been discovered making love to his own wife by mistake?"
"It's serious. Anne of Austria and Queen Elizabeth have been robbed of some jewels."
"A thief among us?"
"A regular Galloping Dick. I'm a thief myself, for that matter."
"You?" she drew away from me a bit.
"Yes. My name is Procrastination."
"Ah, my grave Capuchin, we do not steal time; we merely waste it. But is what you tell me true?"
"I am very sorry to say it is. The jewels were worth something like ten thousand dollars."
"Merciful heavens!"
"It is true, infernally true,"--looking around to see if by chance Caesar had reappeared on the scene. (How was I to manage my escape? It is true I might hie me to the cellars; but how to get out of the cellars!) "Have you seen Julius Caesar?" I asked.
"Caesar?"
"Yes, Miss Hawthorne--"
The Blue Domino swung about and leaned toward me, her hands tense upon the sides of her chair.
"What name did you say?"--a strained note in her voice.
"Hawthorne," I answered, taking out the slip of pasteboard. "See! it says that one blue domino was rented of Monsieur Friard at five-thirty this afternoon."
"How did you come by that ticket?" she demanded.
"It was a miracle. I purchased a mask there, and this ticket was wrapped up in my bundle by mistake."
"It is a curious coincidence,"--her voice normal and unagitated.
I was confused. "Then I am mistaken?"--my chagrin evident. (All this while, mind you, I was wondering if that cellar-door was unlocked, and how long it would take me to reach it before the denouement!)
"One way or the other, it does not matter," said she.
"Yet, if I could reach the cellars,"--absently. Then I bit my tongue.
"Cellars? Who said anything about cellars? I meant that this is not the hour for unmasking or disclosing one's identity,"--coldly.
"And yet, when Caesar whispered 'Beware the ten of hearts' you turned and shuddered. What have you to offer in defense?"
"It was the horrid mask he wore."
"Well, it wasn't handsome of him."
"What did you mean by cellars?"--suddenly becoming the inquisitor in her turn.
"I? Oh, I was thinking what I should do in case of fire,"--nimbly.
"That is not the truth."
"Well, no, it isn't. Can you keep a secret?" I whispered.
"If it isn't a terrible one."
"Well, I have no earthly business here. I am an impostor."
"An impostor!"
"Yes. And for the past few minutes, since I heard of the robbery, I've been thinking how I could get out of here upon the slightest notice." While the reckless spirit was upon me, I produced the fatal card and showed the back to her. "You will find that yours is of a different color. But _I_ am not the Galloping Dick; it was only a hare-brained lark on my part, and I had no idea it would turn out serious like this. I was going to disappear before they unmasked. What would you advise me to do?"
She took the card, studied it, and finally returned it. There followed an interval of silence.
"I have known the imposition from the first," she said.
"What!"
She touched the signet-ring on my little finger. "I have seen that once before to-night. No," she mused, "you will not blow up the post-office to-night, nor the police-station."
She lifted the corner of her mask, and I beheld the girl I had met in Mouquin's!
"You?"
"Silence! So this is the meaning of your shuffling those cards? Oh, it is certainly droll!" She laughed.
"And are you Miss Hawthorne?"
"I am still in the mask, sir; I shall answer none of your questions."
"This is the finest romance in the world!" I cried.
"You were talking about getting out," she said. "Shall I lend you my domino? But that would be useless. Such a prestidigitator as Signor Fantoccini has only to say--Presto! and disappear at once."
"I assure you, it is no laughing matter."
"I see it from a different angle."
An artist's model, and yet a guest at this exclusive function?
A commotion around the stage distracted us. Presently we saw Teddy Hamilton mount the stage and hold up his hands.
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen!" he called.
Silence gradually fell upon the motley groups of masqueraders.
"A thief is among us. I have had all the exits closed. Everybody will be so kind as to present cards at the main entrance. Three ten-spots of hearts have been tallied on the comparing lists. We have been imposed upon. The police are on the way. Very sorry to cause you this annoyance. The identity of the holders of the cards will be known only to those of us on the committee."
Silence and then a murmur which soon became a fuzzing like that of many bees.
The Blue Domino suddenly clutched my arm.
"Please take me away, take me away at once! I'm an impostor, too!"
Two of us!
This was disaster. I give you my solemn word, there was nothing I regretted so much as the fact that I hadn't gone to the theater.
But I am a man of quick thought and resource. In the inelegant phrasing of the day, me for the cellars!
"Come," said I to the girl; "There's only one chance in a hundred, but we'll take it together."
"Together? Where?"
"Why, to the cellars. I've a pocketful of matches. We can make a try. For, if there's a thief around, and we are caught and proved impostors--Well, I leave you to imagine!"
"I will go with you," she replied resolutely.
The gods were with us. The door leading to the cellars was not locked. I opened it, passed the girl before me, and closed the door.
"I am frightened!" she whispered.
"So am I," I offered, to reassure her. "You are not afraid of rats, are you?"
"No-o!"
"Bully!" I cried. Then I laughed.
"How _can_ you laugh? It is horrible!" she protested.
"You would come, though I heard your uncle warn you. Look at it the way I do. It's a huge joke, and years from now you'll have great fun telling it to your grandchildren."
"I wish, at this moment, I could see so far ahead--What was that?"--seizing my arm.
Click!
Somebody had locked the door behind us! _