December Love Part 120

"But, please, do you understand my feeling? Would you like to be made what you are not--a beast?"

Sir Seymour saw Garstin, perhaps with difficulty, shutting off a smile.

"I can't say I should," he answered, with absolute gravity.

"Would you," pursued Arabian, apparently in desperate earnest, "would you allow a picture of you like this to be shown to all your friends?"

"I think," returned Sir Seymour, still with an absolute and simple gravity, "that I should object to that--strongly."

"You hear!" said Arabian to Garstin. "It is your friend who says this."

"I can't help that," said Garstin, totally unperturbed. "I'm going to exhibit that picture."

"No! No!" said Arabian.

And as he spoke he suddenly bared his teeth.

Garstin, without making any rejoinder to this almost brutally forcible exclamation, which was full of violent will, thrust a hand into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a big gold watch.

"I say, I'm awfully sorry," he said, with a swift glance at Sir Seymour, which the latter did not miss, "but I must turn you both out. I'm dining at the Arts Club to-night. Jinks--you know the Slade Jinks--is coming to pick me up. You'll forgive me, Sir Seymour?"

His voice was unusually gentle as he said the last words.

"Of course. I've stayed an unconscionable time. Are you going my way, Mr. Arabian?"

Garstin's mouth twitched. Before Arabian could reply, Garstin said:

"Look here, Arabian!"

"Yes--please?" said Arabian.

"You and I differ pretty badly about this business of your d.a.m.ned portrait."

"Ah, yes!"

"Sir Seymour's a just man, a very just man. Let's hear what he has to say."

"But you tell us you have no time!"

"Exactly! Jinks you know! He's a devil for punctuality. They set the clocks by him at the Slade! But _you_--"

"Yes?"

"Talk it over with Sir Seymour. Get his unbiased verdict. And let me hear from you any time to-morrow. He'll say what's fair and square. I know that."

While speaking he went towards the head of the stairs, followed by Sir Seymour and Arabian. As Arabian pa.s.sed the place where the whisky stood he picked up his gla.s.s and drunk it off at a gulp.

A minute later Sir Seymour and he were out in the night together.

CHAPTER XIII

"Which way do you go, please?" asked Arabian.

"I'll go your way if you like. I live in St. James's Palace. But I'm in no hurry. Do you live in my direction?"

"Oh, no. I live quite near in Chelsea."

"I can walk to your door then if you don't mind having my company," said Sir Seymour.

"Thank you!"

And they walked on together in silence. Sir Seymour wondered what was pa.s.sing in the mind of the man beside him. He felt sure that Arabian had been at first suspicious of him in the studio. Had he been able by his manner to lull that suspicion to rest? He was inclined to believe so.

But it was impossible for him to be sure. After two or three minutes of silence he spoke again. But he made no allusion to the recent scene in the studio, or to Garstin's parting words. His instinct counselled silence on that point. So he talked of London, the theatres, the affairs of the day, trying to seem natural, like a man of the world with a casual acquaintance. He noticed that Arabian's answers and comments were brief. Sometimes when he did speak he spoke at random. It was obvious that he was preoccupied. He seemed to Sir Seymour to be brooding darkly over something. This state of things continued until they reached Rose Tree Gardens.

"This is it," said Arabian, stopping before the big porch.

Sir Seymour stopped, too, hesitated, then said:

"I'll say good night to you."

Arabian shot a piercing and morose glance at him, moved his right hand as if about to extend it, dropped it and said:

"Well, but we have not spoken any more about my picture!"

"No."

"d.i.c.k Garstin said you would decide."

"Scarcely that--was it?"

"But I think it was."

"Well, but it's really not my affair."

"But he made it so."

"Perhaps. But you didn't say--"

"But I should like to know what you think."

"Very good of you. But I'm an outsider. I wasn't there when you made what you say was a bargain."

"No, but--"

Again he sent a piercing glance to Sir Seymour, who received it with absolute sangfroid, and stood looking completely detached, firm and simple. At that moment Sir Seymour felt positive that a struggle was going on in Arabian in which the drink he had taken was playing a part.

The intensely suspicious nature of the enemy of society, always on the alert, because always liable to be in danger, was at odds with the demon that steals away the wits of men, unchains their recklessness, unlocks their tongues, uncovers often their most secret inclinations. Arabian was hesitating. At that moment the least thing would turn him one way or the other, would prompt him to give himself to the intense caution which was probably natural to him, or would drive him to the incaution which he would regret when he was physically normal again. It seemed to Sir Seymour that he knew this, and that he had it in his power just then to turn the scale, to make it drop to whichever side he wished. And as Arabian hesitated at that moment so Sir Seymour hesitated too. He longed to get away from the man, to have done with him forever. But he had put his hand to a task. He had here an opportunity. Garstin had certainly given it to him deliberately. It would be weak not to take advantage of it. He was not accustomed to yield to his weak inclinations, and he resolved not to do so now. He was sure that if he showed the least sign of wishing to push himself into Arabian's affairs the man would recoil at once, in spite of the drink which was slightly, but definitely, clouding his perceptions. So he took the contrary course. He forced himself to hold out his hand to the beast, and said: