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To-night, six hundred ghosts may hang about your pillow!'"
Her voice broke. There was something grim and unnatural in that curious stillness. Even the secretary was at last breathing a little faster. The watchman at the door was leaning forward. Sirdeller simply moved his hand to the doctor, who held up his finger while he felt the pulse. The beat of his watch seemed to sound through the unnatural silence. In a minute he spoke.
"The lady may proceed," he announced.
"My husband," the d.u.c.h.esse continued, "was an officer in charge of the Mines and Ordnance Department. He went out that night in a small boat, after a visit to the strong house. No soul has ever seen or heard of him since, or his boat. It is only I who know."
Her voice died away. Sirdeller stretched out his hand and very deliberately drank a table-spoonful or two of his milk.
"I believe the lady's story," he declared. "The Marsine affair is finished. Let no one be admitted to have speech with me again upon this subject."
He had half turned towards his secretary. The young man bowed. The doctor pointed towards the door. The d.u.c.h.esse, Peter, and Sogrange filed slowly out. In the bright sunlight the d.u.c.h.esse burst into a peal of hysterical laughter. Even Peter felt, for a moment, unnerved. Suddenly he, too, laughed.
"I think," he said, "that you and I had better get out of the way, Sogrange, when the Count von Hern meets us at New York!"
CHAPTER VIII
AN ALIEN SOCIETY
Sogrange and Peter, Baron de Grost, standing upon the threshold of their hotel, gazed out upon New York and liked the look of it. They had landed from the steamer a few hours before, had already enjoyed the luxury of a bath, a visit to an American barber's, and a genuine c.o.c.ktail.
"I see no reason," Sogrange declared, "why we should not take a week's holiday."
Peter, glancing up into the blue sky and down into the faces of the well-dressed and beautiful women who were streaming up Fifth Avenue, was wholly of the same mind.
"If we return by this afternoon's steamer," he remarked, "we shall have Bernadine for a fellow-pa.s.senger. Bernadine is annoyed with us just now.
I must confess that I should feel more at my ease with a few thousand miles of the Atlantic between us."
"Let it be so," Sogrange a.s.sented. "We will explore this marvellous city. Never," he added, taking his companion's arm, "did I expect to see such women save in my own, the mistress of all cities. So _chic_, my dear Baron, and such a carriage! We will lunch at one of the fas.h.i.+onable restaurants and drive in the Park afterwards. First of all, however, we must take a stroll along this wonderful Fifth Avenue."
The two men spent a morning after their own hearts. They lunched astonis.h.i.+ngly well at Sherry's and drove afterwards in the Central Park.
When they returned to the hotel Sogrange was in excellent spirits.
"I feel, my friend," he announced, "that we are going to have a very pleasant and, in some respects, a unique week. To meet friends and acquaintances everywhere, as one must do in every capital in Europe, is, of course, pleasant, but there is a monotony about it from which one is glad sometimes to escape. We lunch here and we promenade in the places frequented by those of a similar station to our own, and behold! we know no one. We are lookers on. Perhaps, for a long time, it might gall. For a brief period there is a restfulness about it which pleases me."
"I should have liked," Peter murmured, "an introduction to the lady in the blue hat."
"You are a gregarious animal," Sogrange declared. "You do not understand the pleasure of a little comparative isolation with an intellectual companion such as myself. What the devil is the meaning of this?"
They had reached their sitting-room, and upon a small round table stood a great collection of cards and notes. Sogrange took them up helplessly, one after the other, reading the names aloud and letting them fall through his fingers. Some were known to him, some were not. He began to open the notes. In effect they were all the same--On what day would the Marquis de Sogrange and his distinguished friend care to dine, lunch, yacht, golf, shoot, go to the opera, join a theatre party? Of what clubs would they care to become members? What kind of hospitality would be most acceptable?
Sogrange sank into a chair.
"My friend," he exclaimed, "they all have to be answered--that collection there! The visits have to be returned. It is magnificent, this hospitality, but what can one do?"
Peter looked at the pile of correspondence upon which Sogrange's inroad, indeed, seemed to have had but little effect.
"One could engage a secretary, of course," he suggested, doubtfully.
"But the visits! Our week's holiday is gone."
"Not at all," Sogrange replied. "I have an idea."
The telephone bell rang. Peter took up the receiver and listened for a moment. He turned to Sogrange, still holding it in his hand.
"You will be pleased, also, to hear," he announced, "that there are half a dozen reporters downstairs waiting to interview us."
Sogrange received the information with interest.
"Have them sent up at once," he directed, "every one of them."
"What, all at the same time?" Peter asked.
"All at the same time it must be," Sogrange answered. "Give them to understand that it is an affair of five minutes only."
They came trooping in. Sogrange welcomed them cordially.
"My friend the Baron de Grost," he explained, indicating Peter. "I am the Marquis de Sogrange. Let us know what we can do to serve you."
One of the men stepped forward.
"Very glad to meet you, Marquis, and you, Baron," he said. "I won't bother you with any introductions, but I and the company here represent the Press of New York. We should like some information for our papers as to the object of your visit here and the probable length of your stay."
Sogrange extended his hands.
"My dear friend," he exclaimed, "the object of our visit was, I thought, already well known. We are on our way to Mexico. We leave to-night. My friend, the Baron is, as you know, a financier. I, too, have a little money to invest. We are going to meet some business acquaintances with a view to inspecting some mining properties. That is absolutely all I can tell you. You can understand, of course, that fuller information would be impossible."
"Why, that's quite natural, Marquis," the spokesman of the reporters replied. "We don't like the idea of your hustling out of New York like this, though."
Sogrange looked at the clock.
"It is unavoidable," he declared. "We are relying upon you, gentlemen, to publish the fact, because you will see," he added, pointing to the table, "that we have been the recipients of a great many civilities which it is impossible for us to acknowledge properly. If it will give you any pleasure to see us upon our return, you will be very welcome. In the meantime, you will understand our haste."
There were a few more civilities and the representatives of the Press took their departure. Peter looked at his companion doubtfully as Sogrange returned from showing them out.
"I suppose this means that we have to catch to-day's steamer after all?"
he remarked.
"Not necessarily," Sogrange answered. "I have a plan. We will leave for the Southern Depot, wherever it may be. Afterwards, you shall use that wonderful skill of yours, of which I have heard so much, to effect some slight change in our appearance. We will then go to another hotel, in another quarter of New York, and take our week's holiday incognito. What do you think of that for an idea?"
"Not much," Peter replied. "It isn't so easy to dodge the newspapers and the Press in this country. Besides, although I could manage myself very well, you would be an exceedingly awkward subject. Your tall and elegant figure, your aquiline nose, the shapeliness of your hands and feet, give you a distinction which I should find it hard to conceal."
Sogrange smiled.
"You are a remarkably observant fellow, Baron. I quite appreciate your difficulty. Still, with a club foot, eh?--and spectacles instead of my eyegla.s.ses----"