The Sins of Severac Bablon Part 17

_"Ah!"_

He dropped back in his chair. Nothing moved. The activity of the household stirred rea.s.suringly about him. He stood up, crossed to the wardrobe, and threw wide its doors.

In the pocket of a hanging coat was thrust a nickelled rod from a patent trousers-stretcher, so that it pointed out into the room.

Rohscheimer stared--and stared--and stared.

"My G.o.d!" he whispered. "He slipped out directly he got the cheque, and I sat here all night----"

CHAPTER IX

ES-SINDIBAD OF CADOGAN GARDENS

Upon the night following the ill-omened banquet in Park Lane was held a second dinner party, in Cadogan Gardens. Like veritable gourmets, we must be present.

It is close upon the dining hour.

"Zoe is late!" said Lady Vignoles.

"I think not, dear," her husband corrected her, consulting his celebrated chronometer. "They have one minute in which to demonstrate the efficiency of American methods!"

"Thank you--Greenwich!" smiled her vivacious ladyship, whose husband's love of punctuality was the only trace of character which six months of marital intimacy had enabled her to discover in him.

"You know," said Lord Vignoles to Zimmermann, the famous _litterateur_ of the Ghetto, "she is proud of Yankee smartness. Only natural." And his light blue eyes followed his wife's pretty figure as she flitted hospitably amongst her guests. Admiration beamed through his monocle.

"Lady Vignoles is a staunch American," agreed the novelist. "I gather that your opinion of that nation differs from hers?"

"Well, you know," explained his host, "I don't seriously contend--that is, when Sheila is about--I don't contend that their methods aren't smart. But it seems to me that their smartness is all--just--well, d'you see what I mean? Look at these Pinkerton fellows!"

"Those who you were telling me called upon you this morning?"

"Yes. They came over with Oppner to look for this Severac Bablon."

"What is your contention?"

"Well," said Vignoles, rather fl.u.s.tered at being thus pinned to the point, "I mean to say--they haven't caught him!"

"Neither has Scotland Yard!"

"No, by Jove, you're right! Scotland Yard hasn't!"

"Do you think it likely that Scotland Yard will?" asked the other.

But Lord Vignoles, having caught his wife's eye, was performing a humorous grimace, and, watch in hand, delivering a pantomimic indictment of American unpunctuality. At which moment Miss Oppner was announced, and Lady Vignoles made a pretty _moue_ of triumph.

Zoe Oppner entered the room, regally carrying her small head crowned with the slightly frizzy mop of chestnut hair, conscious of her fine eyes, her perfect features, and her pretty shoulders, happy in her slim young beauty, and withal wholly unaffected. Therein lay her greatest charm. A beautiful woman, fully aware of her loveliness, she was too sensible to be vain of a gift of the G.o.ds--to pride herself upon a heavenly accident.

"Why, Zoe!" said Lady Vignoles, "what's become of uncle?"

"Pa couldn't get," announced Zoe composedly; "so I came along without him. Told me to apologise, but didn't explain. I've promised to rejoin him early, so I shall have to quit directly after dinner. The car is coming for me."

Lord Vignoles looked amused.

"_Les affaires!_" he said resignedly. "These Americans!"

Dinner was announced.

The usual air of slightly annoyed surprise crept over the faces of the company at the announcement, so that to the uninitiate it would have seemed that no one was hungry. However, they accepted the inevitable.

Then Vignoles made a discovery.

"I say, Sheila," he exclaimed, "where is your American efficiency? We're thirteen!"

His wife made a rapid mental calculation and flushed slightly.

"Anybody might do it!" she pouted; "and it's uncle's fault, anyway!"

"Why!" exclaimed Zoe Oppner, "you're surely not going to make a fuss over a silly thing like that!"

"A lot of people don't like it," declared Lady Vignoles hurriedly. "I shouldn't mind, of course, if it happened at somebody else's house."

Zimmermann strolled up to the group.

"I gather that we number thirteen?" he said.

"That is so," replied Vignoles; "but," dropping his voice, "I don't think anyone else has noticed it yet."

"A romantic idea occurs to me!" smiled the novelist. "I submit it in all deference----"

"Oh, go on, Mr. Zimmermann!" cried Zoe, with sparkling eyes.

"Why not, upon the precedent of our ancient Arabian friend, Es-Sindibad of the Sea, summon to the feast some chance wayfarer?"

"Oh, I say!" protested the host mildly. "Do you mean to go outside in Cadogan Gardens and stop anybody that comes along?"

"Well," said Zimmermann, "it should, strictly, be some pious person who tarries there to extol Allah! But if we waited for such a traveller I fear the soup would be spoiled! You are a gentleman short, I think? So make it, simply, the first gentleman."

"But he might be a tramp or a taxi-driver, or worse!" protested Vignoles.

"That is true," agreed the other. "So let us determine upon a criterion of respectability. Shall we say the first man, provided he be agreeable, who wears a dress-suit?"

"That's just grand!" cried Zoe Oppner enthusiastically. "It's too cute for anything! Oh, Jerry, let's! Make him do it, Sheila!"

Jerry, otherwise Lord Vignoles, clearly regarded the projected Oriental experiment with no friendly eye.