_ CHAPTER XVII
"I'm sure it was Mary," exclaimed Ray positively. "I never did like the girl. She was sullen and vicious and would stop at nothing to get even with us for discharging her."
"Perhaps you are right," said Helen, "although it is hard to believe that a woman would do such a cruel thing to a mother. Just imagine how worried I was all the way to Philadelphia, only to find when I got there that no message had been sent, and Dorothy was perfectly well."
It was evening. The two women were sitting alone in the library on the second floor, Ray busy at her trousseau, Helen helping her with a piece of embroidery. The master of the house was absent, as usual. He had not come home to dinner, having telephoned at the last minute that he was detained at the club, a thing of such common occurrence since his return from South Africa that Helen had come to accept it as a matter of course. Indeed, things had come to such a pass that she rather welcomed his absence. She preferred the sweet, amiable companionship of her little sister to that of a man who had suddenly become exacting, over-bearing and quarrelsome.
"Why don't you let Dorothy come home?" asked Ray. "Then you wouldn't have this constant worry about her."
"I think I will, now that we are more settled and things are quieter. I wrote to auntie to-day that I might go to Philadelphia one day next week to bring her home. You are right. I shall not be happy until she's with me. I have such terrible dreams about her. If anything were to happen that child, I think it would kill me."
Ray nodded approvingly. Sympathetically, she said:
"Yes, dear. You'll feel better satisfied when she's with you. Besides she'll be a companion for you--especially when I'm married----"
Helen sighed and turned away her face so her sister should not see the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. Sorrowfully, she said:
"It will be terrible to lose you, dear. Of course, I'm happy over your marriage. It would be very selfish in me to want to stand in the way of your happiness. I'm sure I wish you and Wilbur every joy imaginable. But I shall certainly feel very lonely when you are gone."
The young girl looked closely at her sister. She realized that her sister was no longer the happy, contented woman she once was, and she readily guessed the cause. Helen had not taken her into her confidence, but she had ears and eyes. Living in the house in such close intimacy, she could not help noticing that the relations between the wife and husband were no longer what they had been. Guardedly she said:
"But you have Kenneth."
Helen sighed and was silent.
Ray looked up. More gently she said:
"Haven't you your husband, dear?"
Her sister shook her head. There was a note of utter discouragement and melancholy in her voice as she answered:
"He is seldom home--his club seems to have more attraction for him. I rarely see him except at breakfast time." She was silent for a moment, and then added quickly: "Would you believe that he hasn't been home a single night since the time I was called to Philadelphia?"
Ray opened her eyes.
"He's out all night?"
"Yes--all night. The other morning it was seven o'clock when he came home--and his dress suit and shirt looked as if he had been in a fight."
The young girl put down her work and looked at her sister in dismay.
"Sis!--what's the matter with Ken all at once?"
Helen made no reply, but covering her face with her two hands, burst into tears. Ray rose quickly and going over to where she was sitting, sat on the edge of the chair and put her arms about her. Soothingly she said:
"Don't cry, dear, don't cry. He will soon be himself again. His terrible experience on the steamer upset him dreadfully. His nervous system underwent such a shock that it has entirely changed his character. Wilbur says it is quite a common phenomenon. Only the other day he read in some medical book an article on that very subject. The writer says any great shock of that kind can cause a temporary disarrangement of the moral sense and perceptions. For example, a man who, under ordinary circumstances is a perfect model of a husband, with every good quality and virtue, may suddenly lose all sense of conduct and become am unprincipled
roué. In other words, we have two natures within us. When our system is working normally we succeed in keeping the evil that's in us under control; but following any great shock, the system is disarranged, the evil gains the ascendancy, and we appear quite another person. This explains the dual personality about which Wilbur and I had an argument the other day. Don't you remember?"
Helen nodded. Sadly she said:
"I begin to think you are right. Certainly he has changed. If he had been like this when I first met him I should never have married him. It is not the Kenneth I learned to love." Bitterly, she added: "As he is now, I feel I dislike and detest him. Unless he soon changes for the better, I shall leave him. In self respect I can't go on living like this?"
Kissing her sister again, Ray rose and went back to her seat. Confidently, she said:
"Don't worry, dear. I'm sure everything will be all right soon. You see if I'm not right. By my wedding day--only three weeks away now--you'll think as much of Ken as ever----"
"I hope so, dear, but three weeks is a long time to wait----"
The young girl laughed.
"Why that's nothing at all. Just imagine Ken is ill or gone away from you on a visit for that length of time----"
As she spoke the door opened, and François entered with a silver salver, which he presented to his mistress.
"A letter for Madame."
Helen looked at the envelope and threw it down with a gesture of impatience. Crossly, she exclaimed:
"François, I do wish you'd be more careful. Can't you read. Don't you see the letter is addressed to Mr. Traynor?"
The valet nodded.
"
Oui, madame. But as Monsieur is out I thought that possibly madame----"
Incensed more at the fellow's impudent air than by what he actually said, Helen lost her temper. Angrily, she exclaimed:
"Don't think. People of your class are not hired to think; they are paid to do as they are told. You've been very careless in your work recently. The next time it happens I shall have to tell you to find another place."
The valet smiled. An insolent look passed over his sallow, angular face. Dropping completely his deferential manner and fixing the two women with a bold, familiar stare, he said impudently:
"You needn't wait till next time. I'll quit right now,
parbleu. It's a rotten job, anyhow."
Indignant, Helen pointed to the door.
"Go!" she cried. "The housekeeper will settle with you. Never let me see your face again."
The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders and went toward the door. As he reached it, he turned round, a sneer on his face:
"You'll see me again all right, but ze circumstances may be different? My lady may not be so proud ze next time."
With this parting shot, he went away, and a moment later they heard him going up to his room to pack his things.
Ray turned to her sister. Reprovingly, she said:
"Weren't you a little severe with him?"
Helen shook her head. Quickly, she said:
"I never could bear the sight of the man. He is treacherous and deceitful. I'm not at all sure that he's honest. It was only after he'd been here some time that I learned he was formerly with Signor Keralio. That was enough to set me against him. Like master, like valet, as the saying goes, and it's usually a true saying. On several occasions lately I have noticed things that seemed suspicious. The fellow is more intimate now with Kenneth than I, his wife, have ever been. Only the other day I discovered them in earnest and intimate conversation. Directly I appeared they separated and François, instead of continuing to converse on terms of apparent social equality, was once more the fawning valet. I didn't take the trouble to ask Kenneth what it all meant. So many singular things have happened since his return, that this only adds one more to the list."
"May I come in?" said a voice.
Helen looked up quickly. It was Wilbur Steell who was standing at the door with his head half in the room, laughing at them. The two women had been so busy talking that they had not heard the sound of approaching footsteps. With an exclamation of joy Ray jumped to her feet and ran up to him.
"It's Wilbur--my precious Wilbur!"
Helen nodded approvingly, as she noticed the girl's enthusiasm. Certainly her sister had changed. She was hardly the cold, self-centered Ray of six months ago. With a smile she said:
"It's astonishing how a man can alter a girl--if he's the right kind."
The lawyer laughed.
"It works both ways. The right kind of woman can make a man change his ways--even a hardened old bachelor. Who could have guessed that I would ever fall in love?"
Helen sighed.
"What is love? We have it to-day; it eludes us to-morrow. A few weeks ago I thought I loved my husband better than any being in the world. To-day, I can hardly look him in the face. How do you account for it?"
Dropping into a chair, the lawyer look serious.
"I can't account for it, nor can I blame you. Kenneth has returned from South Africa a changed man. Whether the wreck and the loss of the diamonds affected his mind I do not know. Only a psychologist could determine that. But he is not the same. Where is he to-night?"
Helen threw up her hands.
"Do I ever know?" she exclaimed wearily. "I haven't seen him since morning, and don't expect to see him before breakfast to-morrow. He's at his club or drinking and carousing, or in some gambling house playing roulette. How do I know?"
"It is certainly a most singular case," said the lawyer meditatively. "Mr. Parker and I have gone carefully over his accounts at the Company's office. Everything is perfectly regular. There only remains the missing diamonds. We have detectives working on half a dozen clues but so far we have accomplished nothing. We have also gone to Washington to get the secret service men interested in the case on the ground that if the diamonds are here they were smuggled in and no duty was paid. But we found the secret service men busy following up counterfeiters. The country is being flooded with counterfeit $10 bills--a splendid reproduction, almost defying detection. It is believed that the plates and presses from which they are made are right here in New York and the whole secret service force is at work trying to run the counterfeiters to earth. This is why our diamond case is going so slowly. They are so busy following up the counterfeiters they have no time for us."
Ray, much interested, leaned eagerly forward.
"A counterfeit ten dollar bill, did you say?" she demanded.
"Yes--it is a remarkable counterfeit. You would not know it from a good one. Only an expert can tell the difference. But all these crooks overreach themselves. Clever as they are, they usually leave some mark which betrays them. For example, in printing this bill which bears the head of Lincoln, they have spelled his first name 'Abrahem'--in other words, the engraver made an 'e' when it should have been 'a.'"
Ray jumped up, quite excited. Her eyes flashing, she cried.
"Isn't that strange! I have a new $10 bill, and I noticed to-day the queer spelling of Abraham. Wouldn't it be funny if I had one of the counterfeits?"
The lawyer smiled.
"It wouldn't be funny; it would be a tragedy, considering that in a short while from now I am to pay your bills. Where is the bank note?"
"I'll run up and get it. It's in my purse."
When she had disappeared, Steell turned to his hostess and said:
"Have you seen Signor Keralio lately?"
"Hardly--you know I dismissed him from the house."
The lawyer sat thoughtfully drumming his fingers on the table. Musingly, he said:
"Somehow I have a hunch that that fellow knows something about the diamonds. Does Kenneth ever see him?"
"I asked him the other day. He said he did not."
"That's strange!" exclaimed the lawyer. "It was only yesterday morning that I saw them together in a taxicab."
"Where?" demanded Helen, surprised.
"Away uptown. I had business up in the Bronx. I was driving my car and was near 200th street and going north when suddenly I had to steer to one side to allow a taxicab to pass. There were two men in it. I just chanced to glance inside and, to my surprise, I recognized your husband and Keralio."
"What time was that?"
"Very early--about nine o'clock."
"What direction?"
"They were coming south."
"Then he must have been with Keralio all night, for he didn't come home."
The lawyer was silent. Certainly here was a mystery which needed more detective talent than he possessed to clear up. Yet he would not rest until it was solved. To-morrow he would get Dick Reynolds busy, and they would go to work in earnest. The first thing to find out was what took Keralio and Kenneth to the Bronx.
"Does Keralio live in the Bronx?"
"I don't know," said Helen.
"I'll find out," said the lawyer, grimly.
At that moment Ray returned, holding out a new ten-dollar bill.
"I was right," she cried. "The name Abraham is spelled with an 'e.' Do you really think this is a counterfeit?"
The lawyer took the bill and examined it critically.
"I have no doubt of it," he answered. "There are other indications--the general appearance, the touch of the paper. Where did you get it?"
For a moment the young girl was puzzled.
"Let me think. Where did I get it. Oh yes, I know. François gave it to me."
"François!" exclaimed Helen.
The lawyer started and looked up in surprise.
"François, your brother-in-law's valet?"
"Yes--I wanted a $20 bill changed to pay for some things that came home from the store, and he went out and brought me some old bills and this new one."
The lawyer gave vent to a low, expressive whistle.
"François gave it to you, eh? Where is Francois?"
"I discharged him to-day for insolence," said Helen.
"He's gone!"
"Yes--he went shortly before you came in."
The lawyer jumped to his feet, a look of exultation on his face. Quickly, he said:
"Didn't you say that this François was formerly with Signor Keralio?"
"Yes--he was with him for years."
The lawyer gave a wild whoop of joy.
"Then we've got it--at last."
"Got what?" cried the women.
"A clue--a clue!" cried the lawyer, excitedly. "Can't you see it? François is hand in glove with Keralio--the master rogue who is making this counterfeit."
"What do you propose to do?"
"Find where Keralio lives--then, perhaps, we'll find the lost diamonds." _