The Yellow Crayon Part 10

"It was regrettable," he murmured, "but I a.s.sure you that it was unavoidable. Lucille's brother must have a certain claim upon me, and it was his first day in America."

She was silent for a moment. Then she turned abruptly towards the door.

Her friends were already on the way.

"Come with me," she said. "I want to speak to you."

He followed her out into the lobby. Felix came a few paces behind. The restaurant was still full of people, the hum of conversation almost drowning the music. Every one glanced curiously at Lady Carey, who was a famous woman. She carried herself with a certain insolent indifference, the national deportment of her s.e.x and rank. The women whispered together that she was "very English."

In the lobby she turned suddenly upon Mr. Sabin.

"Will you take me back to my hotel?" she asked pointedly.

"I regret that I cannot," he answered. "I have promised to show Felix some of the wonders of New York by night."

"You can take him to-morrow."

"To-morrow," Mr. Sabin said, "he leaves for the West."

She looked closely into his impa.s.sive face.

"I suppose that you are lying," she said shortly.

"Your candour," he answered coldly, "sometimes approaches brutality."

She leaned towards him, her face suddenly softened.

"We are playing a foolish game with one another," she murmured. "I offer you an alliance, my friendship, perhaps my help."

"What can I do," he answered gravely, "save be grateful--and accept?"

"Then--"

She stopped short. It was Mr. Sabin's luck which had intervened. Herbert Daikeith stood at her elbow.

"Lady Carey," he said, "they're all gone but the mater and I. Forgive my interrupting you," he added hastily.

"You can go on, Herbert," she added. "The Duc de Souspennier will bring me."

Mr. Sabin, who had no intention of doing anything of the sort, turned towards the young man with a smile.

"Lady Carey has not introduced us," he said, "but I have seen you at Ranelagh quite often. If you are still keen on polo you should have a try over here. I fancy you would find that these American youngsters can hold their own. All right, Felix, I am ready now. Lady Carey, I shall do myself the honour of waiting upon you early to-morrow morning, as I have a little excursion to propose. Good-night."

She shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly as she turned away. Mr.

Sabin smiled--faintly amused. He turned to Felix.

"Come," he said, "we have no time to lose."

CHAPTER VIII

"I regret," Mr. Sabin said to Felix as they sat side by side in the small coupe, "that your stay in this country will be so brief."

"Indeed," Felix answered. "May I ask what you call brief?"

Mr. Sabin looked out of the carriage window.

"We are already," he said, "on the way to England."

Felix laughed.

"This," he said, "is like old times."

Mr. Sabin smiled.

"The system of espionage here," he remarked, "is painfully primitive. It lacks finesse and judgment. The fact that I have taken expensive rooms on the Campania, and that I have sent many packages there, that my own belongings are still in my rooms untouched, seems to our friends conclusive evidence that I am going to attempt to leave America by that boat. They have, I believe, a warrant for my arrest on some ridiculous charge which they intend to present at the last moment. They will not have the opportunity."

"But there is no other steamer sailing to-morrow, is there?" Felix asked.

"Not from New York," Mr. Sabin answered, "but it was never my intention to sail from New York. We are on our way to Boston now, and we sail in the Saxonia at six o'clock to-morrow morning."

"We appear to be stopping at the Waldorf," Felix remarked.

"It is quite correct," Mr. Sabin answered. "Follow me through the hall as quickly as possible. There is another carriage waiting at the other entrance, and I expect to find in it Duson and my dressing-case."

They alighted and made their way though the crowded vestibules. At the Thirty-fourth Street entrance a carriage was drawn up. Duson was standing upon the pavement, his pale, nervous face whiter than ever under the electric light. Mr. Sabin stopped short.

"Felix," he said, "one word. If by any chance things have gone wrong they will not have made any arrangements to detain you. Catch the midnight train to Boston and embark on the Saxonia. There will be a cable for you at Liverpool. But the moment you leave me send this despatch."

Felix nodded and put the crumpled-up piece of paper in his pocket.

The two men pa.s.sed on. Duson took off his hat, but his fingers were trembling. The carriage door was opened and a tall, spare man descended.

"This is Mr. Sabin?" he remarked.

Mr. Sabin bowed.

"That is my name," he admitted, "by which I have been generally called in this democratic country. What is your business with me?"

"I rather guess that you're my prisoner," the man answered. "If you'll step right in here we can get away quietly."

"The suggestion," Mr. Sabin remarked, "sounds inviting, but I am somewhat pressed for time. Might I inquire the nature of the charge you have against me?"

"They'll tell you that at the office," the man answered. "Get in, please."

Mr. Sabin looked around for Felix, but he had disappeared. He took out his cigarette-case.

"You will permit me first to light a cigarette," he remarked.

"All right! Only look sharp."