_ CHAPTER XI
The house of mourning had suddenly become transformed into a house of joy.
From the deepest abyss of hopeless despair Helen, during the next few days, was raised to the highest pinnacle of human felicity. Kenneth was safe, that was all she wanted to know. Whether he had succeeded or not in saving the diamonds she did not know or care.
Nothing more had been heard from him. Cable dispatches reported the
Zanzibar to be making good time on her way to Southampton, but, until the steamer arrived there, no further details were to be expected. Much, however, had been gleaned as to the fate of the
Abyssinia, and, as the accounts of disaster began to come in, she could only thank God that he had succeeded in escaping such a fearful fate. The ship had mysteriously caught fire the first day out from Cape Town, and, in the excitement, the crew, as well as the passengers, lost their heads. Only one boat could be lowered, and in this Kenneth got away, together with François, his valet, and some other passengers. A news item in connection with the affair, which was of particular interest to Helen, ran as follows:
"The loss of the Abyssinia brought to a tragic ending a remarkable romance in which Mr. Kenneth Traynor, one of the rescued passengers and a prominent New York broker, is one of the principal figures. Mr. Traynor is one of two twins so identical in appearance that no one, not even their own mother, knew them apart. One of the children mysteriously disappeared when a mere child and was believed to be dead. Mr. Kenneth Traynor went recently to South Africa on business, and on the diamond fields found in starving condition an unlucky miner who was a perfect counterpart of himself. It was his lost brother. Mutual explanations followed and the identity was established. Overjoyed at the reunion the two brothers sailed for home on the Abyssinia. Suddenly came the alarm of fire. While the panic on board was at its worst, the broker lost sight of his brother, whom he never saw again and whom it is only too certain went down with the ship."
"It's almost unbelievable, isn't it?" exclaimed Helen, as she read the paragraph for the hundredth time and handed it to Wilbur Steell, who had dropped in to hear if there was any news.
Ray, who loved a mystery better than anything else in the world, clapped her hands.
"Isn't it perfectly stunning?"
"Not for Kenneth's brother--poor fellow," said Helen reprovingly. "He did not live long to enjoy his bettered condition."
"That's right. How thoughtless of me!" said Ray contritely.
As he finished reading Mr. Steell looked puzzled. Looking toward Helen he asked:
"Did you know that your husband had a twin brother?"
"I only knew it recently--just before he sailed. He did not know it himself."
"How did he find it out?"
"His old nurse told him. I was present."
"Did the nurse know the brother was in South Africa?"
"No--she had no idea of it. I'm sure of that. It's one of those wonderful coincidences one some-times hears of."
The lawyer shook his head. Thoughtfully he said:
"It's certainly strange--one of the strangest things I ever heard of."
"Kenneth will be able to tell us more about it when he comes," said Ray.
"Yes--no doubt," asserted her sister quickly.
The lawyer remained thoughtful for a moment. Then, lightly he said:
"We ought to give Kenneth a rousing welcome home. After such experiences as he has had he richly deserves it."
Eagerly Helen caught at the suggestion.
"By all means!" she cried. "Suppose we give a dinner, followed by a dance."
"Oh, lovely!" said Ray.
"The night following his arrival," went on Helen enthusiastically. "We'll make it quite an affair and invite everyone we know--the Parkers, the Galloways, the Fentons, everybody----"
"Don't forget me!" interrupted Steell.
"Oh, you, of course!" Roguishly she added: "Aren't you one of the family?"
He looked at her and smiled. In an undertone which Ray, too busy looking at the paper, did not hear, he added:
"Not yet, but I hope to be."
"The sooner the better, Wilbur," she said earnestly. With a significant glance at her sister she added, "Don't let her keep you waiting too long."
Every hour brought nearer the happy day when they would see Kenneth again. A cablegram from England reported that the
Zanzibar had reached Southampton. Closely following this came a brief message from Kenneth himself, stating that he was on the point of sailing for New York on the
Adriatic. In five more days he would be in New York.
Expectation now reached fever heat, the excitement being communicated to everyone in the house. Every time the front door bell rang there was a rush downstairs in the hope that it might be another message.
Ray, bubbling over with excitement, was almost as eager as her sister.
"Won't it be jolly to go down to the dock and meet him?"
Helen shook her head.
"I won't go to meet him. I prefer to be here when he arrives." Anxiously she added: "I hope everything is all right."
"Why shouldn't it be all right?"
Her sister was silent. It seemed absurd, when everything seemed to point to her happiness, that she should still feel depressed and nervous, but, somehow, she could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It was certainly strange that no letter had been received from Kenneth since the accident. Yet perhaps it was wicked of her to expect more. She ought to be grateful that he had been spared. Almost unconsciously she remarked:
"Isn't it strange that Ken hasn't written for so long? I haven't had a line from him since he left Cape Town."
"Yes--you have," protested her sister. "You had a cablegram telling you of his safety."
"A cablegram--yes, but no letter. I have had no letter since he left Cape Town."
"That's true. But how could he write? He has been traveling faster than the mails."
"I hope he's not hurt."
"Of course not. You would have heard it before this. Bad news travels fast."
Every moment from now on was devoted to getting the house ready for the arrival of its lord and master. Ray had skilfully fashioned out of red letters on white paper, a big "Welcome" sign, which was to be suspended in the hall on the complacent horns of two gigantic moose heads, souvenirs of a month's vacation in the Adirondacks. While this was being done downstairs Helen busied herself in the library and bedroom, getting ready the things for his comfort--his dressing-gown, his slippers, his pipe. She detested pipes, as do most women, but she could not refrain from giving this pipe a furtive kiss, as she laid it lovingly on the table within easy reach of the arm-chair. The maids, changed since he went away, were laboriously instructed in what they should and should not do, what towels should be put in the luxurious bathroom, what pajamas should be laid on the bed.
Well Helen remembered the first time she had entered this bedroom. Just married, in the full flush of her new-found happiness, it had all seemed so beautiful, so ideal. The dull pink color scheme, so chaste and delicate, the gracefully carved furniture, so luxurious and elegant, the cupids flying above the massive beautifully carved bed, a veritable bower of love--all this seemed only a realization of her girlhood dreams of what married life should be. And now Kenneth was coming back, after his long absence in South Africa, it would be like getting married all over again.
The next four days seemed longer than any Helen had ever spent in all her life. The delay was interminable. The minutes appeared to be like hours, the hours like days. Having to wait patiently for what one desired so ardently was simply intolerable. She tried to divert her mind by busying herself about the library, dusting his favorite books, tidying his papers, but constantly came back the thoughts that filled her with uneasiness, a vague, undefinable alarm. Was he all right?
At last the great day arrived. A Western Union telegram announced that the
Adriatic would dock at 2 o'clock. Long before that time, Ray, unable to restrain her impatience, was on her way down town, accompanied by Mr. Steell, while Helen, her face a little paler than usual, her heart beating a little faster, sat in the great recessed window of the library, and waited for the arrival of the loved one.
Anxiously, impatiently, she watched the hands of the clock move round. How exasperatingly slow it was: how indifferent it seemed to her happiness! If the ship docked at two they could hardly arrive at the house until four. It would take at least two hours to get through the customs. Oh, would the moment never come when she would see his dear face and clasp him in her arms?
It was nearly half past two when suddenly the front door bell rang. Her heart leaping to her mouth, she rushed to the top of the stairs. It was only Mr. Parker, who had dropped in on the chance of finding his associate already arrived.
To-day the president of the Americo-African Mining Company was in the highest spirits. Everything had gone according to his expectations. Kenneth was home with the big diamonds safe in his possession. The directors could not fail to give him (Parker) credit for his sagacity and enterprise. The stocks of the company would soar above par. Fortune was smiling on them in no uncertain way. Was it a wonder he was feeling in the best of humors?
"How do you know the diamonds are safe?" questioned Helen anxiously. "In such a terrible panic as there must have been on that ship a man thinks only of saving himself."
"Pshaw!" replied the president confidently. "I'm as sure of it as that I'm here. It was understood that he was never to part with the stones under any circumstances. They are in a belt he wears round his waist next to his skin. If the diamonds were not here, Kenneth would not be here. Knowing he is safe I am convinced that they are safe."
"Will you wait here until he comes?"
"No, I can't. There's a meeting of the directors this afternoon. I must attend. I'll call him up on the telephone----"
"But you are coming to dinner this evening----"
"Yes, yes, of course." With a smile he added: "Now, don't get too spoony when he comes, or else Ken will have no head for business."
"No fear," laughed Helen. "We are too long married for that."
"Well, good-bye. I'll see you later."
The president took his hat and turned to go. As he reached the door he turned round.
"By the bye, have you seen Signor Keralio lately?"
Helen's face grew more serious.
"No--Signor Keralio does not call here any more-at my request."
The president gave a low, expressive whistle. Holding out his hand he said:
"Got his walking papers, eh? Well, I guess if you don't like him he isn't much good. I never did care for the look of him."
"Why did you ask?" she inquired.
"I was just curious--that's all. He's a persistent, uncomfortable kind of man. I don't like his face. It's a face I wouldn't trust----"
"That's why he's not coming here any more," she replied calmly. "He forgot himself and that was the end----"
The president turned to go.
"Well, good-bye. Ken will be here soon."
"Good-bye."
He went away, and once more Helen resumed her lonely vigil at the library window, straining her ears to catch the direction of every passing car, catching her breath with suspense as each pedestrian came into view. They could not be much longer. She wondered if he had missed her as much as she had him. No, men do not feel these things in the way women do. They are too busy--their minds too much preoccupied with their work. The turmoil of affairs absorbed their attention.
The clock struck the three-quarters, and the reverberations of the chimes had not entirely died away, when through the partly opened window came the sound of a taxicab suddenly stopping in front of the door.
At last he had come! It was surely Kenneth. Her bosom heaving with suppressed excitement she ran to the stairs and was already in the lower hall before the maid had answered the bell. Quickly she threw open the door, eager to throw herself in the traveler's arms. A tall shadow darkened the doorway. It was François, the French valet.
Helen fell back in dismay.
"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed, looking over his shoulder to see if Kenneth were following. "Where is your master?"
A curious expression, half-defiant, half-cunning, came over the servant's face, as he replied:
"Monsieur coming. He sent me ahead with light baggage. He detained at customs."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, disappointed. "When will he be here?"
"He come presently--perhaps quarter of an hour."
"How is your master?"
"He very well, except his eyes--they bother him a leetle."
Helen stared at him in alarm.
"His eyes," she exclaimed. "What is the matter with his eyes?"
The valet avoided her direct gaze, and, shifting uneasily on his feet, began to fuss with the leather bags he was carrying. Awkwardly he said:
"Didn't madame hear?"
"Hear what?" she gasped, now thoroughly alarmed.
The man put out his hand deprecatingly.
"Oh, it's nothing to make madame afraid. It will soon be all right. I assure madame----"
"But tell me what it is, will you?" she interrupted impatiently. "Don't have so much to say--tell me what it is----"
"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
épouvantable, 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 François, 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 François. 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. _