The Silent Barrier Part 27

"I'm going through with this," he growled savagely, "even if I have to drink Bower's health--d.a.m.n him!"

CHAPTER XII

THE ALLIES

Seldom, if ever, has a more strangely a.s.sorted party met at dinner than that which gathered in the Hotel Kursaal under the social wing of Mrs. de la Vere. Her husband, while being coached in essentials, was the first to discover its incongruities.

"Where Miss Wynton is concerned, you are warned off," his wife told him dryly. "You must console yourself with Mrs. Badminton-Smythe. She will stand anything to cut out a younger and prettier woman."

"Where do you come in, Edie?" said he; for Mrs. de la Vere's delicate aristocratic beauty seemed to be the natural complement of her sporting style, and to-night there was a wistful charm in her face that the lively Reginald had not seen there before.

She turned aside, busying herself with her toilet. "I don't come in.

I went out five years ago," she cried, with a mocking laugh.

"Do you know," he muttered, "I often wonder why the deuce you an' I got married."

"Because, sweet Reginald, we were made for each other by a wise Providence. What other woman of your acquaintance would tolerate you--as a husband?"

"Oh, dash it all! if it comes to that----"

"For goodness' sake, don't fuss, or begin to think. Run away and interview the head waiter. Then you are to b.u.t.tonhole Bower and the American. I am just sending a chit to the Badminton-Smythes."

"Who is my partner?"

"Lulu, of course."

De la Vere was puzzled, and looked it. "I suppose it is all right," he growled. "Still, I can't help thinking you've got something up your sleeve, Edie."

She stamped a very pretty foot angrily. "Do as I tell you! Didn't you hear what Bower said? He will be everlastingly obliged to us for coming to the rescue in this fas.h.i.+on. Next time you have a flutter in the city, his friends.h.i.+p may be useful."

"By gad!" cried Reginald, beginning, as he fancied, to see light, "something seems to have bitten you this evening. Tell you what--Lulu is a non-runner. Get Bower to put you on to a soft thing in Africans, an' you an' I will have a second honeymoon in Madeira next winter.

Honor bright! I mean it."

She seized a silver mounted brush from the dressing table with the obvious intent of speeding his departure. He dodged out, and strolled down the corridor.

"Never saw Edie in that sort of tantrum before," he said to himself.

"If she only knew how sick I was of all this jolly rot, p'r'aps we'd run better in double harness."

So it came to pa.s.s, when the company a.s.sembled in the great dining room, that Bower sat on Mrs. de la Vere's left, and Spencer on her right. Beyond them, respectively, were Lulu Badminton-Smythe and her husband, and between these latter were de la Vere and Helen. Thus, the girl was separated from the two men whom her shrewd eyed hostess had cla.s.sed as rivals, while the round table made possible a general conversation.

The talk could hardly fail to turn on the day's adventures. Spencer, who had never before in his life thrust himself forward in a social gathering, did so now with fixed purpose. He meant to eclipse Bower in a territory where that polished man of the world was accustomed to reign unchallenged. But he had the wisdom to wait. He guessed, not without good cause, that more than one late arrival would pause beside their table and make polite inquiries as to the climbers' well being.

These interruptions were fatal to Bower's well balanced periods. The journey to the hut, therefore, was dealt with jerkily.

When Spencer took up the thread, he caught and held the attention of his hearers. In this he was helped considerably by his quaint idioms.

To English ears, American expressions are always amusing. Spencer, of course, could speak quite as correct English as anyone present; but he realized that in this instance a certain amount of picturesque exaggeration would lend itself to humor. His quick ear too had missed none of the queer mixture of prayers and objurgations with which Karl and the two guides hailed every incident. His selections set them all in a roar. In fact, they were the liveliest party in the room. Many an eye was drawn by a merriment that offered such striking contrast to the dramatic episode in the outer hall.

"The one person missing from that crowd is the stage lady," was Miss Gladys Wragg's caustic comment, when Badminton-Smythe evoked a fresh outburst by protesting that he forgot to eat his fish owing to Spencer's beastly funny yarn.

And Miss Wragg's criticism was justified. It only needed Millicent's presence to add a wizard's touch to the amazement with which Mrs.

Vavasour and others of her kind regarded the defection of the de la Veres and the Badminton-Smythes. But Millicent was dining in her own room. The last thing she dreamed of was that Helen would face the other residents in the hotel after the ordeal she had gone through an hour earlier. She half expected that Bower would endeavor to meet her privately while dinner was being served. She was ready for him. She prepared a number of sarcastic little speeches, each with a subtle venom of its own, and even rehea.r.s.ed a pose or two with a view toward scenic effect. But she had neither taken Bower's measure nor counted on Mrs. de la Vere's superior strategy. All that happened was that she ate a lukewarm meal, and was left to wonder at her one-time admirer's boldness in accepting a situation that many a daring man would have striven to evade.

After dinner it was the custom of the habitues to break up into small groups and arrange the night's amus.e.m.e.nt. Dancing claimed the younger element, while card games had their devotees. Mrs. de la Vere danced invariably; but to-night she devoted herself to Helen. She was under no illusions. Bower and Spencer were engaged in a quiet duel, and the victor meant to monopolize the girl for the remainder of the evening.

That was preventable. They could fight their battle on some other occasion. At present there was one thing of vital importance,--the unpleasant impression created by the actress's bitter attack must be dissipated, and Mrs. de la Vere, secretly marveling at her own enthusiasm, aimed at the achievement.

"Don't be drawn away from me on any pretext," she whispered, linking her arm through Helen's as they pa.s.sed out into the foyer. "And be gracious to everybody, even to those who have been most cattish."

Helen was far too excited and grateful to harbor animosity. Moreover, she dreaded the chance of being left alone with Bower. As he had already declared his intentions publicly, she was sure he would seize the first opportunity to ask her to marry him. And what would be her answer? She hardly knew. She must have time to think. She must search her own heart. She almost flinched from the succeeding thought,--was it that her soul had found another mate? If that was so, she must refuse Bower, though the man she was learning to love might pa.s.s out of her life and leave her desolate.

She liked Bower, even respected him. Never for an instant had the notion intruded that he had followed her to Switzerland with an unworthy motive. To her mind, nothing could be more straightforward than their acquaintance. The more she reflected on Millicent Jaques's extraordinary conduct, the more she was astounded by its utter baselessness. And Bower was admirable in many ways. He stood high in the opinion of the world. He was rich, cultured, and seemingly very deeply enamored of her undeserving self. What better husband could any girl desire? He would give her everything that made life worth living.

Indeed, if the truth must be told, she was phenomenally lucky.

Thus did she strive to silence misgivings, to quell doubt, to order and regulate a blurred medley of subconscious thought. While laughing, and talking, and making the most successful efforts to be at ease with the dozens of people who came and spoke to Mrs. de la Vere and herself, she felt like some frail vessel dancing blithely in a swift, smooth current, yet hastening ever to the verge of a cataract.

Once Bower approached, skillfully piloting Mrs. Badminton-Smythe; for Reginald, tiring of the role thrust on him by his wife, had gone to play bridge. It was his clear intent to take Helen from her chaperon.

"It is still snowing, though not so heavily," he said. "Come on the veranda, and look at the landscape. The lake is a pool of ink in the middle of a white table cloth."

"The snow will be far more visible in the morning, and we have a lot of ice to melt here," interposed Mrs. de la Vere quickly.

The man and woman, both well versed in the ways of society, looked each other squarely in the eye. Though disappointed, the man understood, was even appreciative.

"Miss Wynton is fortunate in her friends," he said, and straightway went to the writing room. He felt that Helen was safe with this unexpected ally. He could afford to bide his time. Nothing could now undo the effect of his open declaration while flouting Millicent Jaques. If he gave that wayward young person a pa.s.sing thought, it was one of gladness that she had precipitated matters. There remained only an unpleasant meeting with Stampa in the morning. He shuddered at the recollection that he had nearly done a foolish thing while crossing the creva.s.se. What sinister influence could have so weakened his nerve as to make him think of murder? Crime was the last resource of impaired intellect. He was able to laugh now at the stupid memory of it.

True, the American----

By the way, what did Millicent mean by her shrewish cry that Spencer was paying for Helen's holiday? So engrossed was he in other directions that his early doubts with regard to "The Firefly's"

unprecedented enterprise in sending a representative to this out-of-the-way Swiss valley had been lulled to sleep. Of course, he had caused certain inquiries to be made--that was his method. One of the telegrams he dispatched from Zurich after Helen's train bustled off to Coire started the investigation. Thus far, a trusted clerk could only ascertain that the newspaper had undoubtedly commissioned the girl on the lines indicated. Still, the point demanded attention.

He resolved to telegraph further instructions in the morning, with Spencer's name added as a clew, though, to be sure, he was not done with Millicent yet. He would reckon with her also on the morrow.

Perhaps, if he annoyed her sufficiently, she might explain that cryptic taunt.

Could he have seen a letter that was brought to Spencer's room before dinner, the telegram would not have been written. Mackenzie, rather incoherent with indignation, sent a hurried scrawl.

"DEAR MR. SPENCER," it ran,--"A devil of a thing has happened. To-day," the date being three days old, "I went out to lunch, leaving a thick headed subeditor in charge. I had not been gone ten minutes when a stage fairy, all frills and flounces, whisked into the office and asked for Miss Wynton's address. My a.s.sistant succ.u.mbed instantly. He was nearly asphyxiated with joy at being permitted to entertain, not unawares, that angel of musical comedy, Miss Millicent Jaques. His maundering excuse is that you yourself seemed to acknowledge Miss Jaques's right to be acquainted with her friend's whereabouts. I have good reason to believe that the frail youth not only spoke of Maloja, but supplied such details as were known to him of your kindness in the matter.

I have cursed him extensively; but that can make no amends.

At any rate, I feel that you should be told, and it only remains for me to express my lasting regret that the incident should have occurred."

This letter, joined to certain lurid statements made by Stampa, had induced Spencer to accept Mrs. de la Vere's invitation. Little as he cared to dine in Bower's company, it was due to Helen that he should not refuse. He was entangled neck and heels in a net of his own contriving. For very shame's sake, he could not wriggle out, leaving Helen in the toils.

Surely there never was a day more crammed with contrarieties. He witnessed his adversary's rebuff, and put it down to its rightful cause. No sooner had he discovered Mrs. de la Vere's apparent motive in keeping the girl by her side, than he was b.u.t.tonholed by the Rev.

Philip Hare.

"You know I am not an ardent admirer of Bower," said the cleric; "but I must admit that it was very manly of him to make that outspoken statement about Miss Wynton."

"What statement?" asked Spencer.