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Bra.s.sfield drew the waiter aside.
"Who is this, George?" asked he, tapping the note. "A woman?"
"A young lady, suh," was the answer. "A mahty hahnsome young lady, suh."
"Bright auburn hair?" asked Bra.s.sfield, "and short?"
"Er--no, suh," answered the waiter, "sutn'y not that kin' o' haiah; an'
tall, suh."
"Make mine the same," said Bra.s.sfield, "and excuse me a moment, boys.
I'll be right back."
The note had said in the lobby, but the waiter guided him to a private room. Bra.s.sfield, cautious as usual, by a gesture commanded the waiter to precede him into the room, and himself halted at the entrance, looking about the room for the young woman. She sat near the window, and rose to greet him as he entered--a tall and graceful girl with wonderful eyes and variegated hair.
"I could not wait to give you my congratulations," said she, offering him her hand, "until you came home. We at the hotel are wondering why we have lost you. Let me rejoice with you in your great triumph."
Bra.s.sfield's eyes sought hers. His soul recognized this as the queen of those hazy recollections which he could scarcely believe more than dreams, and felt her dominance.
"Thank you, ever so much," said he. "I was just coming up to see you."
"How nice of you," said she. "And in that case, why not go up with me and join me at my supper, which will be served in ten minutes?"
"Why not, indeed!" said Bra.s.sfield. "George, tell Mr. Alvord and Mr.
Edgington that I'll see them in the morning!"
XIX
THE ENTRAPPING OF MR. BRa.s.sFIELD
Ol' Mistah Wolf is a smaht ol' man, An' a raght smaht man is he; He take all the meat fum the trap an' he eat Not a mossel dat poisoned be!
He laff at the snaiah, an' he nevah caiah When de n.i.g.g.ah wake fum his nap; _But he foller the trail o' little Miss Wolf Raght inter the jaws o' the trap!
But he foller the scent o' little Miss Wolf Kerslap in the deadfall trap!_ --_"Hidin'-Out" Songs_.
From a room adjoining that in which Madame le Claire had won her seeming victory over Mr. Bra.s.sfield's caution, emerged hastily that young woman's accomplices--her father and Judge Blodgett--who had shamelessly listened to the whole conversation. With more of haste than seemliness they sped before Le Claire and her captive, and by vigorous expletives put the patient Aaron into unwonted motion in the procuring of the "little supper" which they had heard Clara promise to the candidate for mayor. Then, in a chamber farthest from the door, and well sheltered by draperies, they sat them down and waited for their prey.
"He's hooked!" said the judge, "hooked well; and I'll gamble she lands him. She's a brick, Professor."
"So!" answered the other. "Ant now, if she vill only--what you call: reel him, blay him--until ve can get the data ve vant----"
"To blazes with the data!" exclaimed the judge. "I'm for getting him back into the Amidon state and respectability, data or no data, before some one else tolls him off into the poisonous swamp of popularity.
Why, I tell you, Professor--hark! There they come! Lay low, now!"
The professor grasped his note-book, the judge the arms of his chair, as the door opened, and in the front room they heard Madame le Claire's voice joining in companionable chat with that of Bra.s.sfield.
"Oh, how slow Aaron is!" she said. "And I'm so hungry. Aren't you?"
"Not so much so as I was," said he. "Sweets take away the appet.i.te.
I'd rather call the supper off, and exclude Abraham--or whatever his name is: much rather."
"Selfish!" she reproved very severely. "And I just in from a two hours' walk. _I_ haven't eaten any sweets----"
"Nor I," said he. "May I have just a little taste?"
"Mr. Bra.s.sfield! Don't make me sorry I invited you here! Aaron's likely to come in at any moment. Do you know when you were here last?"
Bra.s.sfield's brow wrinkled, as he looked about him.
"Ye-e-es," said he slowly, as if in doubt; and then in his ordinary manner: "Well, I should think I did. The day that donkey, Alderson, came with the telegram. My faith, and so much has happened in the two or three days since! But to suggest that I could forget!"
"Why not?" said she, slipping close to him as he sat in a broad-armed easy chair. "I'll wager anything you say you can't remember half the times you've been in my presence. Come now, the first time!"
"Pshaw!" said he, "I'm not going into ancient history, further than to say it was in a room with hangings like these, and a roar of traffic in the street below. Come, dear, let's not talk of that----"
Her hand, straying near his hair, he took in his, and, crushing it to his lips, kissed it pa.s.sionately. She sank down on the side of his chair, and his arm crept insinuatingly about her waist. Her arms went round his neck, and she drew his head to her breast, softly, tenderly, and her lips met his--so many times that for years she blushed when the memory returned to her.
"Darling!" he whispered, "do you love me?"
"Love you?" said she. "Look in my eyes and see!"
Slowly, with her left hand in the curls on his neck, she drew her face from his, and, as if fascinated, his eyes sought hers in a long, long, hungry look.
"You do!" he began gaspingly. "Yes----"
The slender fingers moved upward over his head, the commanding eyes held his, the other hand, as if for a caress, swept his eyes shut, and he lay back in the chair, inert as a corpse. Madame le Claire untwined his arms from her waist, and knelt on the floor before him, her hands clasped on his knees, her head pillowed in his senseless lap.
Their unseen auditors heard no more conversation, and the judge moved softly out to a place where he could see. Clara was sobbing as she groveled at the feet of the man she had obliterated, rescued and restored, and as she sobbed she pressed his hands to her lips. Judge Blodgett went back to the window, lifted it noisily and lowered it with a crash. Then he walked into the front room, and found Madame le Claire sitting in a chair across the room from her subject, smilingly and triumphantly regarding the result of the exercise of her mystic power.
"Is he all right?" queried the judge, looking at the inert form.
Madame waved her hand at their prisoner, in answer.
"Cataleptic," said the professor, peering at him through his gla.s.ses.
"Bulse feeble, preath imberceptible. Yes, he is reeled in."
"Well, give him the gaff," said Blodgett. "In other words, fetch him to."
Madame le Claire stretched vibrant hands toward the entranced man, and again uttered the sharp command, "Awake!"
Amidon smilingly opened his eyes, and looked about him.
"Where are the letters?" said he, looking about for those vexing communications, to find the meaning of which had been the object of the inquiry from which Alderson had drawn him with the telegram. "Did you note on them the information we wanted? Why, is it night? How long have you had me under the influence? Is anything the matter, Clara?"
"Not now," said Le Claire.
"Now eferyding is recht," added the professor.