John Ironside

“ For some seconds he stood knitting his dark brows, then, very slowly:
“There is one man. Her husband’s secretary——”
“Do you know him?”
“I have never seen him, but his name is Car—Carling!”
“Were they enemies?”
“No, not openly; but she feared him. She thought he—watched her. Mon Dieu! The man who came here to-day, as Giulia said, and asked for her. That was the man! I will find him! I will kill him!”
His haggard young face was terrible to see in the frenzy of hatred that distorted it; his slender hands moved convulsively as though he already felt his fingers clutching Roger Carling’s throat. ”

“ One could scarcely believe it the same face that, a few minutes before, had been animated by audacious mischief and coquetry. Truly her moods were many, and they changed with every fleeting moment.
“I’ve behaved abominably to you all the evening,” she whispered tremulously. “And yet you’ve forgiven me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. The queen can do no wrong,” I answered. (How Jim Cayley would have jeered at me if he could have heard!) “Anne, I love you. I think you must know that by this time, dear.”
“Yes, I know, and—and I am glad—Maurice, though I don’t deserve that you should love me. ”

“ There is the soul of the people in them. Now, my children.”
He was right. Those songs—sung by generations of humble folk for centuries, and famous throughout the world to-day—were a revelation as Boris Melikoff sang them, albeit he was the son of a sterner and sadder race: songs of life, and love, and death, of sunshine and storm, with the sound of the sea as an undertone through all, heard in the thrilling throb of the guitar, which Maddelena played like the artiste she was.
Austin listened in sheer delight, forgetful of everything else in the world for the moment. ”

“ Yes, Russia was a hell upon earth; and Petersburg was the centre and epitome of it, I said in my soul, as I loitered on one of the bridges that afternoon, and looked on the swift flowing river, on the splendid buildings, gleaming white, as the gilded cupolas and spires of the churches gleamed fire red, under the brilliant sunshine. A fair city outwardly, a whited sepulchre raised over a charnel-house. A city of terror, wherein every man is an Ishmael, knowing—or suspecting—that every other man’s hand is against him. ”

“ Sir Robert, I implore you to hear me! Roger never raised his hand against Lady Rawson. God knows who did, but it was not he! The truth will be discovered some day, I don’t know how or when, but it will; and if it comes too late—and there are such a few hours, such a few short hours in which he may still be saved—his death will be at your door, on your conscience! ”

“ On Christmas morning Grace Carling knelt before the altar in Westminster Abbey, where, as usual at this early service, there were but a few worshippers.
Through the vast, dim spaces above, beyond the radiance of the lighted chancel, the soft coo of the pigeons outside was distinctly audible above the low tones of the ministrant priest. Of other sounds there were none; the very spirit of peace seemed to brood over the glorious old place, the spiritual heart of England to-day as through so many long, long centuries. ”

“ I said as steadily as I could. “She will always be the one woman in the world for me, Mary, even if I never see or hear of her again. But I’m not going to encourage you in all this futile worry, nor is Jim. He’s not unsympathetic, really, but he knows how bad it is for you, as you ought to know, too. Anne’s your friend, and you love her dearly—but—remember, you’re Jim’s wife, and more precious to him than all the world.” ”

“ He was inwardly reproaching himself also for part at least of the suspicion that had assailed him the instant he learnt that Carling had been there. He thought he knew Roger Carling as thoroughly as one man can know another, believed him to be the soul of honour and rectitude. But he also knew that in every human being there are depths that none other can plumb; and, remembering the circumstances, the thought had occurred involuntarily that some shameful secret might be the cause and explanation of the mysterious tragedy. ”

“ During these wonderful weeks I had been spellbound, as it were, by Anne’s beauty, her charm. When I was with her I could think only of her; and in the intervals,—well, I still thought of her, and was dejected or elated as she had been cruel or kind. To me her many caprices had seemed but the outcome of her youthful light-heartedness; of a certain naïve coquetry, that rendered her all the more dear and desirable; “a rosebud set about with little wilful thorns;” a girl who would not be easily wooed and won, and, therefore, a girl well worth winning. ”

“ As he neared the great house, so silent and dark in these days, with the shadow of tragedy still heavy upon it, he saw a motor car before the door, and quickened his pace, fearing that Sir Robert might have had a relapse and that this was the doctor’s car. He was reassured as he recognized the car as Lord Warrington’s Rolls-Royce, but at the same instant experienced a minor shock; for a tall, slender man, wearing a furred overcoat, approaching from the opposite direction, paused, looked up at the house, and then knocked and rang. That man was Boris Melikoff. ”

“ I felt angry with the Levinska woman for her taunt. She, and such as she, who were like so many undisciplined children, and whose ideas of revolution were practically limited to acts of violence committed in defiance or reprisal, could not even begin to understand the ideals not merely held, but maintained, by Anne and Loris, and the few others who, with them, knew that permanent good could never be accomplished by evil means. ”

“ Lady Rawson, young, beautiful, extraordinarily attractive, married to a man almost old enough to be her grandfather and meeting every day one of her own age, handsome and debonair as was Carling. Dangerous conditions enough, human nature being what it is! And Carling would not be the first man to be fascinated and entangled by an unscrupulous woman, even while he loved another woman—as Roger loved Grace—with all the strength of his better nature. ”

“ I answered, with a military salute.
Pavloff, still on foot, came forward and stood beside her, speaking in a low growl; he was an elder edition of his son Mishka.
She listened, looking down at him gravely and kindly. I could not take my eyes from her face, so dear and familiar, and yet in one way so changed. I guessed wherein the change lay. When I had known her before she had only been playing a part, posing as a lovely, light-hearted, capriciously coquettish girl, without a real care in the world. ”

“ What dark suspicions had been in his mind ever since he saw that fury of hatred in the girl’s face as she stood by Paula Rawson’s grave he had not dared to formulate, even in thought, but they had been there, and now Cacciola’s words had dispersed them so far as Maddelena was concerned. However much she hated the dead woman, she could have had no hand in her death. ”

“ Anne was the centre of a merry group, and was now in her wittiest and most gracious mood. Cassavetti remained with us, speaking seldom, though he could be a brilliant conversationalist when he liked. He listened to Anne’s every word, watched every gesture, unobtrusively, but with a curious intentness.
Soon after ten, people began to leave, some who lived at a distance, others who would finish the evening elsewhere. Anne was going on to a birthday supper at Mrs. Dennis Sutherland’s house in Kensington, to which many theatrical friends had been bidden. ”

“ You very bad boy. We expected you to tea,” said Mary, as I came down the steps of the little piazza outside the drawing-room windows. “You don’t mean to tell me you’ve been packing all this time? Why, goodness, Maurice; you look worse than you did this morning! You haven’t been committing a murder, have you?”
“No, but I’ve been discovering one,” I said lamely, as I dropped into a wicker chair.
“A murder! How thrilling. Do tell us all about it,” cried a pretty, kittenish little woman whose name I did not know. Strange how some women have an absolutely ghoulish taste for horrors! ”

“ If you do know, then, as a woman, you will know what we suffer, in our great love and all our sorrow, with the shadow of doom upon us—you will strive to touch your husband’s heart, to soften it towards us!”
“Enough!” Sir Robert’s voice broke in harshly. “It is useless for you to invoke the dead, useless to ask me to intercede for your husband. I have no power to save him, and if I had I would not exert it; the law must take its course!”
Austin stepped forward impetuously.
“Sir Robert,” he began indignantly, but Grace checked him with a gesture. ”

“ As Giulia was so foolishly upset, Maddelena and her uncle had nursed the invalid, and already he was much better.
She turned brightly to Cacciola as he came into the kitchen.
“On the instant, for behold all is ready. Tell him he is to eat every morsel, on pain of my royal displeasure! How is he?”
“Very weak still, though he says he slept well,” said Cacciola, taking up the tray. “And he insists on coming with us to-day.”
Maddelena’s expressive face darkened.
“To the court? But what folly; there is no need, and he will make himself ill again,” she cried. ”

“ Why should we all perish?”
I was carried back in the rush, and found myself breathless, back against a wall. Three figures cleared themselves from the ruck, and I fought my way to them.
“Well done, Mishka,—for it was thou!” exclaimed Loris. “How was it done?”
“Pouf, it was but a toy,” grunted Mishka. “I brought it in my pocket,—on chance; such things are useful at times. If it had been a real bomb, we should all have entered Heaven—or hell—together.”
“Get to the steps; they are coming back,” cried Loris. ”

“ I felt strangely elated, happier than I had done for many a long day; although I knew that the worst, or almost the worst, had come to pass, and that Anne was here, in the power of her enemies. But we were going to save her,—we would save her. “A forlorn hope” even Loris Solovieff had called it. Nothing of the kind. Could anything that such a man as he attempted be a forlorn hope; and together, working loyally side by side, what could we not dare, and accomplish? ”

“ Like the blessed sunshine she came into that bare, formal room, always beautifully dressed, with a smile on her dear lips, the lovelight in her eyes; and they would sit hand in hand and chat almost gaily for the prescribed time, which sped all too swiftly, while the dark intervals between dragged on leaden feet.
Only God, Who knows the secret of all hearts, knew what effort that courage required, or how nearly their hearts were breaking! ”

“ Melikoff—I have a right to know: you loved each other, you two foolish and headstrong children?”
Boris met his searching gaze sadly but steadily.
“I loved her, Sir Robert; and I have loved her ever since we were little children together. But she never loved me. I do not think Paula ever loved any man—not in the sense most of us mean by the word.”
“Again I believe you, and not without evidence.” He drew towards him a carved sandalwood casket that stood on a small table beside him, opened it, and took out a thin packet of letters which Boris recognized as his own. ”

“ Anne called after her. “You do no good by that, and may do much harm.”
“Have no fear for me, little nun,” she retorted gaily, over her shoulder. “I can take care of myself.”
“She sees only,—cares only for the excitement, the poor Marie!” I heard Anne murmur with a sigh, as she crossed to the window and watched her friend’s retreating figure; a jaunty audacious little figure it was!
There was a clatter and jingle below, and three or four Cossacks cantered along. One of them called out something to Madame Levinska, and she turned and shrilled back an answer, her black eyes flashing. ”

“ For weeks, for months she had known in her heart that Austin Starr loved her, had known too that she loved him, but never before had he spoken like this, never had there been any sentimental passages between them, only a beautiful frank friendship, that after all is the very best foundation on which a man and a woman can build the love that lasts! ”

“ I do not know where she is, but she has been seen at Ostend with—the Russian Grand Duke Loris.”
I hated saying those last words; but I had to say them, for, though I knew Anne Pendennis was lost to me, I felt a deadly jealousy of this Russian, to whom, or with whom she had fled; and I meant to find out all that Von Eckhardt might know about him, and his connection with her.
“The Grand Duke Loris!” he repeated. “She was with him, openly? Does she think him strong enough to protect her? Or does she mean to die with him? For he is doomed also. She must know that!” ”