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And on his part, Bateato was racing about like a scared mouse, diving into mysterious chests and cabinets or under divans or climbing up the walls to explore recessed shelves. His activities were confined to that one chamber, for a big, implacable policeman stood at the entrance, with orders to keep his eye on the young woman and the j.a.p and see that they did not escape or attempt to a.s.sist the vanished picture expert in concealing himself or getting away.
As Helen's dazed faculties gradually resumed their normal activities and she realized that Whitney Barnes was a reality, the humor of the situation suddenly struck her fancy and she smiled. She was smiling with eyes and lips when young Barnes turned back his head from another reproach of Bateato and looked to see how she was coming on.
"Thank heaven!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were dead. I wanted to go out for a doctor, but these confounded policemen wouldn't let me--yes, and they wouldn't unlock me. Have I fanned enough? I'm pretty well tuckered out, and these feathers get in one's nose so. Then this is an extraordinary kind of a fan--they use them in harems or something of the sort, and I've never fanned in harems."
"Please stop, then," laughed Helen, "and I'm a thousand times obliged to you. If I could only have a gla.s.s of water I think I would be myself again."
Bateato had at last pried into a cabinet that contained a decanter of brandy and strange looking Moorish goblets, and from some curtained enclosure he obtained cold water from a faucet. A sip of the potent brandy and draught of water brought the color back to the girl's cheeks and the light to her eyes. The change was so rea.s.suring that Whitney Barnes actually beamed and for a few moments dropped all thought of his handcuffs.
"My, but you are beautiful!" he said impulsively. "I don't blame Travers for going daffy in the Ritz, and do you know your eyes are exactly like your cousin's!"
Helen laughed in spite of herself at the young man's headlong gush of words, then became suddenly serious.
"We haven't time to talk about eyes now," she said soberly. "You must a.s.sist me in telling these policemen how I brought this terrible embarra.s.sment upon Mr. Gladwin."
"Nothing of the sort," retorted Barnes. "He wouldn't hear of it. He'd cut off both his arms before he'd allow your name to be dragged into such a sensation. And I'd add mine, too, willingly, with these bracelets on them."
"But that detective said he had a warrant for Mr. Gladwin for eloping with me," cried Helen, blushing scarlet. "And, you know"----
"Yes, I know you're going to weep or faint or something else. Tell me about your cousin--she's not m-m-married?"
"Sadie married!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Helen. "Why, she's deathly afraid of men.
She's the most timid little thing in the world."
"Good!" cried Barnes, enthusiastically. "These handcuffs are not half bad, now you tell me that."
"Why, what do you mean?" asked Helen, her eyes twinkling.
"Oh, nothing," said Barnes, trying to look unconcerned. "She's very young?" he added quickly.
"A year younger than I am," said Helen, mischievously. There was something positively fascinating about the intense seriousness that had fallen upon the nervous features of Whitney Barnes.
"She's not too young to marry?" was his next query.
"N-no," Helen hesitated, "though I suppose you'd have to ask Auntie."
"Well, you didn't have to do that," he said in alarm. "Oh, I beg your pardon," he added quickly, "please forgive me."
"You are forgiven," said Helen, with a catch in her breath; then resolutely, "but that is all over with. It wasn't really real--only a bad dream."
"Of course, it wasn't real," sympathized Barnes. "That fellow just hypnotized you--and my eye, but he's a wonderful looking chap--sort of a Hercules and Adonis all thrown into one. But to get back to Sadie--I'm going to marry her."
"You are!" Helen half started from her chair.
"Be calm; be calm," and he waved her down with his shackled hands.
"When I say I'm going to marry her I merely state a fond belief I have been cherishing since, m'm--well since a very long time ago to-day or yesterday, for to-day is to-morrow by this time, you know. Now don't stop me--I say I am going to marry your cousin because I believe in Destiny with a big D. Do you?"
"I did," said Helen grimly, "but now I don't."
"Oh, yes, you do," Barnes breezed on. "You may not think that you believe you do, but you really do, and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the destiny you thought out--as far as the name goes--Travers Gladwin, I mean--comes true after all. But to come back to Sadie and my Destiny. I have really got to marry her--orders from headquarters!"
"Orders from headquarters!" gasped Helen.
"Exactly! My governor--that is, my dad--that is, the pater--wrung a promise from me, issued a command, a ukase, an ultimatum--said: 'Whitney Barnes, you go right out and get married and bring home a lot of grand-children.' No; that wasn't it exactly--now let me think a moment. Yes, I've got it--he said: 'You've simply got to marry and settle down or I'll turn you out into the street.'"
"Wasn't that enough to take the wind out of you, when you'd never given the idea of marriage a thought. Simply bowled me over. At first I refused point blank, but when I saw how cut up the poor old dad was about it I shook his hand and said: 'Pater, done--I'll go right out and find a wife.' And I did."
"What!" said Helen faintly. "You went right out and got married?"
"No, no, no, my dear cousin. I simply found Sadie."
"And have you asked her? Not surely while we were here this afternoon."
"Oh, I saw her later--when she came to-night with your aunt, while your aunt was searching all over the place for you. Not that I really asked her then, but we looked at each other, you know, and I think we liked each other--and that's a big start. I just know we'll get married--we're soul-mates! There isn't any doubt of it."
"Well, it strikes me," said Helen severely, "that you're a trifle conceited."
"Indeed I am," was his startling response. "You've got to be, in love.
If you don't think you're pretty fine how are you going to convince anybody else that you are? But you'll have to excuse me for a moment--these bracelets are cutting my wrists to pieces. I must find that man who locked me up. You must stay here till I come back--I won't be a minute," and the young man darted out of the room with a ludicrous diving motion of his arms as he parted the heavy crimson silk hangings at the doorway and caromed against the big policeman on guard.
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.
KEARNEY MEETS HIS MATCH.
There was no turning Whitney Barnes away with a soft answer. His appeals for admission were rising to a strident pitch when his friend opened the door and yanked him in.
"Have you seen him?" demanded Barnes, looking about wildly.
"No," Gladwin returned. "I think he escaped."
"Oh, I don't mean the robber Johnny," complained Barnes, shaking out his handcuffed wrists. "I mean the d.a.m.ned idiot who locked these things on me."
"He's searching the house," said Gladwin, smiling at his friend's tragic earnestness.
Detective Kearney came into the room alert as a race horse.
"We've been through the house from cellar to roof," he spat out while his eyes searched every corner of the room.
"I say--look here," said Barnes, "can you unlock me?"
"No!" Kearney would not even look at him.
"Confound it, somebody ought to unlock me!" exclaimed the frantic Barnes. "This is the most annoying position I was ever in in my life.
My valet even couldn't undress me with these things on."