The Mask Part 12

Keralio smiled skeptically.

"Isn't your memory somewhat at fault, cher monsieur? Surely you haven't forgotten the two stones of enormous size just picked up--finds of sensational importance. The newspapers have been full of the story."

Mr. Parker made a deprecatory gesture.

"Pshaw! My dear sir, you ought to know what newspaper talk is worth!

No yarn is too fantastic to print so long as it sells their papers. We found two stones of fair size, it is true, but to say that they are of priceless value is a gross exaggeration."

The Italian eyed his companion closely. Significantly he said:

"They're valuable enough, however, to justify you in refusing to trust their shipment to ordinary channels and in going to the expense of sending to South Africa one of your officers to whom is confided the task of bringing the gems home."

"How did you know that?" demanded Mr. Parker, surprised.

"There is very little I do not know," smiled Keralio ironically, as he blew a ring of cigar smoke up to the ceiling.

His curiosity aroused, the president of the A. A. M. Co. was about to question his companion farther, but at that moment Helen rose from the desk and came toward them.

"I'm not in the humor to write now," she said. "I'd rather talk."

Sitting in a chair near them, she added quickly: "Won't you let me get you some tea?"

Both men shook their heads. Mr. Parker rose. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he said:

"I'll go over to the others and take a hand at bridge. I want to make some money, Signor--I'll leave you to entertain Mrs. Traynor."

With a courteous salutation to his hostess, a graceful act of chivalrous politeness of which he was a past master, Mr. Parker crossed the room in the direction of the card table.

CHAPTER VI

An awkward silence followed the president's departure. Helen would have detained him had she dared. Being alone with Keralio was very distasteful to her. Ill at ease in such close proximity to this man, whom she feared even more than she disliked, she sat still without saying a word. Presently between puffs of his cigar, he said:

"You really don't mind my smoking?"

"Oh, not at all."

He bowed and again relapsed into silence. She looked at him sideways and wondered why this foreigner had always inspired her with such dislike. His manner was courteous, and he was decidedly handsome. He had white teeth and fine eyes. They were bold eyes, but so were the eyes of other men. They had a habit of looking a woman through and through. She always felt embarra.s.sed under his close scrutiny. It seemed to her as if he were undressing her mentally and took pleasure in surveying critically and admirably every part of her as a connoisseur examines a statue. She had an uncomfortable feeling when near him. She was afraid to look straight in his eyes, afraid that possibly he might be able to throw some spell over her, exert some hypnotic influence that she would not be able to resist. She considered him a seductive, dangerous man, the kind of man every pure woman, every wife who wishes to remain faithful to her marriage vows should avoid.

Suddenly while she was looking at him, he turned his head toward her.

Before she could prevent it their eyes met.

He did not avert his gaze, but kept his eyes fixed on hers as if trying to awaken in her some of his own ardor. She tried to look away, but she could not. He seemed to hold her there by sheer force of will power. Frightened, she started to tremble in every limb. Yet, to her astonishment, she had no feeling of anger or resentment. It seemed quite natural that this man should gaze at her in this intimate, caressing way. She found herself taking pleasure in it. Her vanity was gratified. If he looked at her so persistently, it must be that he thought her pretty. Her face began to burn, her bosom heaved, a strange sensation that heretofore only her husband had been able to arouse, came over her. And still his eyes were on hers, caressing, voluptuous.

At the other end of this room the game of bridge was still in progress.

Ray was winning, as usual, and amusing the men with her wit and vivaciousness. Mr. Steell had glanced over in their direction several times, and he saw enough to convince him that the attentions of the fencing master were unwelcome to their hostess. Had he caught Helen's eye, had she made the slightest sign that she was being annoyed, he would have instantly left the game and gone over to the window, if only to break up the tete-a-tete, but she did not once look up. Suddenly he remembered what had been suggested on the boat. It was an idea. Ray at that moment got up to get some tea, and, profiting by the opportunity, the lawyer leaned over and whispered:

"Say, d.i.c.k, you see that chap over there."

The young man looked up.

"Who--the signor?"

"Yes. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing good--although nothing very bad for that matter. He's a dark horse--keeps pretty much to himself. He's well known in the gay resorts, in the gambling houses and where they play the ponies."

"What's his reputation?"

"He's known as a liberal spender. He's always flashing big rolls of money----"

"Where does he get it--not from the fencing school?"

"No--that's only a blind."

The lawyer lowered his voice.

"d.i.c.k, my boy, that fellow will bear watching, and you're the man to do it."

"You want him shadowed?"

"Yes--find out where he goes, who he knows. My opinion is that he belongs to an international band of crooks--possibly counterfeiters, smugglers, or blackmailers. If you land him behind the bars you'll deserve well of your country."

d.i.c.k glanced once or twice in the direction of the object of their conversation, who, quite unconscious of their scrutiny, was still talking earnestly to Helen. The young man smiled, his chest expanded with satisfaction, and grimly he said:

"Leave him to me."

Quite unconscious of the attention he attracted, the Italian turned to Helen.

"You miss your husband very much?"

"Yes--terribly."

"It must be lonely for you."

"It is," she sighed.

"Yet you have your sister."

"Can a sister replace a husband?"

He gave a low, musical laugh.

"No--not a sister. A lover is preferable."

Quickly she retorted: