CHAPTER II
A WEST INDIAN SQUALL
By half past two that afternoon Mr. Warren's launch with its party ofpleasure seekers was well under way.
The "Automobile Girls" had gathered in one end, and wereenthusiastically commenting on the beauty of the scenery. Miss Salliehad been conscientiously trying to cultivate Maud Warren, and ratherthan antagonize her in the beginning had exerted herself to be agreeableto the De Lancey Smythes. Mrs. De Lancey Smythe, however, had otherviews afoot than the cultivation of Miss Sallie, and had immediatelyengaged in conversation with Mr. Stuart. Hardly had the launch put outfrom shore, before she beckoned him to one side of the little deck, andcomplacently kept him there until Ruth, far from pleased with this turnof affairs, called to her father to join them. But Mrs. De Lancey Smytheproved equal to the occasion, for rising gracefully, she calmly strolledby Mr. Stuart's side to the end of the launch where the four girls wereseated. Here they were joined by Miss Sallie, who had been watching themanoeuvres of the other woman with well-veiled contempt, and theconversation became general.
"Do you know many people here, Mrs. Smythe?" asked Miss Sallie, turningto the other woman.
"Only a few," replied Mrs. De Lancey Smythe indifferently. "Most of thepeople I know have been abroad all winter. Many of my dearest friendsare among the peerage. Two people I know well, arrived to-day, however.The young Count de Sonde and his friend, Monsieur Duval."
She pronounced the two names with a faultless accent that was not lostupon the practised ears of Ruth, who had spoken French fluently sinceshe was a child and had had a French nursery governess for years.Whatever were her shortcomings, Mrs. De Lancey Smythe could at leastspeak French.
"A real count!" exclaimed Mollie. "How interesting!"
"Oh, we know lots of titled people," Marian interposed. "There were twocountesses and a marquis at our hotel in Newport last summer."
"Isn't all this lovely?" cried Barbara. She was not interested in countsand titles. She was keenly alive to the beauty of the scenery aboutthem. "I can't decide which out-blues the other, the lake or the sky."
"But aren't there a great many clouds in the sky?" questioned Ruth. "Seehow they have piled up over there? Do you suppose, by any chance, thatwe shall have rain? We were told that it never rained down here. Itsimply isn't tolerated."
The launch was now running far out from the shore, which was lined withpretty villas, set here and there in the midst of cocoanut palms andoleander trees. Following the boat's path of rippling waves came anotherlaunch much smaller than Mr. Warren's. It was manned by two men who hadapparently not observed them. The men were deep in earnest conversation.
"Oh, Marian, there is the Count de Sonde with his friend!" exclaimed hermother. "How fortunate that we should run across them, just now."
"Which one is the count?" asked Maud Warren. She had taken very littleinterest in anything before. "I hope he is not the older man."
"No; he is the slender, dark-haired one," returned Mrs. Smythe. "He isdressed in white."
In the meantime Mr. Stuart had changed his seat. He had come to PalmBeach to enjoy his four "Automobile Girls." No fascinating widow shouldswerve him from his original plans. Like most hard-working successfulmen he loved a holiday like a schoolboy and resented deeply anyinterference with his pleasure.
"Are my girls having a good time?" he queried, smiling into fourcharming faces.
"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed four voices in chorus.
"We thought the scenery beautiful in the Berkshires and along the Hudsonriver, Mr. Stuart. But this is the most beautiful of all!" cried Mollie,clasping her small hands ecstatically.
"Do you suppose people ever really work here?" inquired Grace. "It islike fairy land. Everything happens by magic."
"You are right, Grace. This is a land of pleasure," returned Mr. Stuart."The only people who work are the employes in the hotels and theservants in the cottages."
"Palm Beach is dedicated to pleasure," explained Ruth, "because it wasby accident that it came to be here at all. So it can just as well bespared for an earthly paradise."
"Why is Palm Beach an accident?" queried Mollie.
"Years ago this was just a wild, desolate coast," Ruth went on. "Evennow the wilderness is only a mile away. There was a wreck out there,somewhere, on the other side of the peninsula," she pointed toward theocean. "A ship was loaded with cocoanuts, which were washed ashore. Byand by the cocoanuts sprouted and grew into tall palm trees. So thisbarren shore was transformed into one of the most beautiful palm grovesin the world."
Mr. Stuart pinched his daughter's cheek. "You've been stealing a marchon us, Mistress Ruth," he said. "You have been reading a guide book."
Just then a shadow clouded the brilliant sunshine. The engineer of thelaunch glanced up uneasily.
"You don't think it is going to rain, do you?" asked Mr. Warren.
"It would be a very unusual thing if it did, sir," replied the man,without committing himself.
A fresh wind had come up, bearing with it the fragrance of many flowers.It seemed to have blown over miles of lily beds and orange groves.Barbara closed her eyes as she breathed in the warm, scented air. "Howeasy to forget all responsibilities, in an enchanted place like this!"she thought. "How easy just to drift along."
"Papa, do tell the man to turn back," said Maud in a voice that brokeunpleasantly into Bab's reflections. "It's getting a little chilly. Andbesides, we must have tea this afternoon in the cocoanut grove."
"Very well, my dear," replied her father, turning to give his order tothe engineer.
The launch swung around. Immediately the whole party spied another boatbobbing helplessly on the water. One of the men in it was leaning overexamining the machinery of the frail craft. The other one, in white,stood at the side of the boat, scanning the water.
No other launches were in sight. The many pleasure boats which haddotted the lake with flecks of white, only a few minutes before, had nowput in to shore. A black cloud had spread itself over the whole sky,casting a dark and ominous shadow over the lake.
As all the world knows--at least the part of the world which lives onpleasure waters--a strict etiquette prevails among these small boats.One boat always helps another in distress.
The engineer of Mr. Warren's launch did not wait for orders. He turnedat once toward the drifting craft.
"Is your engine broken?" he asked, as the boats touched sides.
The young man in white was the Count de Sonde himself. He lookeddecidedly relieved at the appearance of the rescuers. He removed hisPanama hat with a flourish and bowed low to the women. The other mananswered the boatman.
"We are quite helpless, you see," the count ejaculated, shrugging hisshoulders and raising his eyebrows at the same time. "My friend can donothing."
In the meantime the friend had arisen from the engine. He was examiningthe boatload of people with guarded interest.
"How do you do, Count? How are you, Monsieur Duval?" called Mrs. DeLancey Smythe.
It was not a time for conventional introductions. The boatman made aline fast from the small craft to the larger one. He meant to tow thesmaller launch toward home.
But Mrs. De Lancey Smythe persisted. Mr. Warren and his friends mustmeet the Count de Sonde and Monsieur Duval.
Suddenly the heavens were shaken by a terrific clap of thunder.
Mrs. Smythe gave a little scream. "I am always frightened during astorm," she averred. "Mr. Stuart, would it be too much to ask you toassist me into the cabin?"
Miss Sallie glanced rather contemptuously at the other woman, andwondered if her fright were real. Mr. Stuart rose and courteouslyassisted Mrs. De Lancey Smythe into the tiny cabin, just as a drivingsheet of rain bore down upon them.
The "Automobile Girls" crouched in the centre of the boat. Maud andMarian followed Mrs. Smythe.
"Make for the nearest boathouse!" called Mr. Warren to his engineer. "Wecan't get back to the hotel in such a storm as this."
The storm now burst
in all its West Indian fury. The waters were churnedinto foam. The wind whistled and roared. The two small boats tossedabout on the water like chips.
"We are just in time!" exclaimed Mr. Warren, as they at last reached theboathouse. "In another five minutes I believe we should have beenswamped." He helped the women from the boat to the pier.
"What an escape!" gasped Mrs. Smythe. "Marian, my darling, are you allright?"
"Perfectly, Mama," replied her daughter rather scornfully. It was plainto the four "Automobile Girls" that Marian did not entirely approve ofher mother's display of fear, and the tone in which she had answeredtold its own story.
The little company sought the shelter of the boathouse. The twoforeigners went with them. In one of the men, Bab recognized thestranger she had noticed that morning on the hotel piazza. Mrs. DeLancey Smythe introduced him as Monsieur Duval.
"We were very lucky to have met you, sir," Mr. Duval said to Mr. Stuart.Bab noticed that he spoke very good English, with only a slight foreignaccent. "I am afraid our boat would have sunk if you had not come to ourrescue."
Mr. Stuart bowed politely, but coldly. He was wondering if his girls andMiss Sallie would have bad colds from their wetting. They were standingapart from the others, laughing at their plight.
The young Count de Sonde had joined Marian and her mother, as soon as heentered the boathouse, but Maud was with them. It was upon Maud that thecount immediately bestowed his attention. He smiled upon her, untilMaud's foolish head began to flutter. Just think of capturing theattentions of a real count so quickly! Mr. Warren saw his daughter'sdelight and frowned slightly. Maud must not get any foolish ideas aboutforeigners in her head. He would put an end to that nonsense. He wasabout to stride over and take charge of affairs when a man servant inplain livery appeared on the path near the boathouse door. He had comefrom the pretty villa, which was only a hundred yards back from theboathouse, set in a thick grove of palms. The man carried a large bundleof wraps and umbrellas. He paused respectfully when he reached the stepsleading to the pavilion.
"My lady would be glad if you would seek shelter from the storm in herhouse," he said in broken English to Mr. Warren.
It was great fun to scamper through the pouring rain to the prettyvilla. The foreign coats and capes kept everyone dry. Now that they wereon land Mr. Warren's boat party had begun to regard their adventuresomewhat lightly.
Once on the porch of the villa they were ushered into a large,low-ceilinged room at one end of which a fire of pine knots was burningbrightly. The room was empty. The newcomers clustered about the blaze todry their soaked shoes.
The room held very little furniture. Yet it appeared to Bab as one ofthe most beautiful rooms she had ever seen. A grand piano stood at oneend, and a few graceful wicker chairs were scattered about theapartment. The room had an indescribable look of elegance. Was it thebare highly polished floor, with only the Persian rug to break itsshining surface? Or was it the enormous bunch of daffodils in a cutglass bowl on the table that lent the place its charm? Bab did not know.On the mantelpiece between two tall brass candle-sticks stood abeautiful marble bust. Barbara afterwards learned that it was known as"The Head of an Unknown Lady."
A handsome leather writing-case lay open on the table. It displayed onthe inner side a large crest picked out in dull gold. The firelightshone on the gold outlines and threw them into dull relief.
Bab saw the Frenchman, Monsieur Duval, walk over to this table. Heexamined the crest intently for a moment, then turned away.
At this instant two women came in through the open door. The one, whowas quite old, supported herself with a gold-headed mahogany cane. Theother was young and very beautiful.
The older woman was rather terrifying in aspect. She had a hooked noseand her bright, beady little eyes regarded the company with a look ofamused tolerance.
The younger woman came forward to meet her unknown guests without theslightest embarrassment or affectation. The "Automobile Girls" heldtheir breath. Surely she was the most exquisite creature they had everbeheld.
The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach; Or, Proving Their Mettle Under Southern Skies Page 2