CHAPTER SEVEN
Mrs. Harrington admitted freely that she had been very far-seeing inasking Denby to travel on the Mauretania with her and Monty. She was oneof those modern women who count days damaging to their looks if therecomes an hour of boredom in them, and her new acquaintance was alwaysamusing.
One day when they were all three sitting on deck she asked him: "Whatare you going to do when you get home?"
"Nothing particular," he replied, "except that I want to run down toWashington some time during the month."
"You see," Monty explained, "Steve is a great authority on the tariff.The Secretary of the Treasury does nothing without consulting him. Hehas to go down and help the cabinet out."
"That's hardly true," Denby said mildly, "but I have friends inWashington nevertheless." It was obvious Monty was not taken in by this.He only regarded his friend as a superb actor who refused to befrightened by the hourly alarms his faithful assistant took to him withfast-beating heart. Young Vaughan told himself a dozen times a day thatthis excitement, this suspicion of the motives of all strangers, wasundermining his health. He had complained of the dull evenness of hisexistence before meeting Denby in Paris, but he felt such a lament couldnever again be justified. He found himself unable to sit still for long.He marvelled to see that Denby could sit for hours in a deck-chairtalking to Alice without seeming to care whether mysterious strangerswere eyeing him or not.
"I asked you," Mrs. Harrington went on, "because, if you've nothingbetter to do, will you spend a week with us at Westbury? Michael willlike you, and if you don't like Michael, there's something seriouslywrong with you."
"I'd love to come," he said eagerly. "Thank you very much."
"Hooray," said Monty. "Alice, you're a sweet soul to ask him. Of coursehe'll like Michael. Who doesn't?"
"Everybody ought to," she said happily. "Do you know, Mr. Denby, I'm oneof the only three women in our set who still love their husbands. Iwouldn't tell you that except for the reason you'll find out. He's themost generous soul in the world and when I go to him with a bank-bookthat won't balance, he adds it up and says I've made a mistake and thatI'm on the right side. How many husbands would do that?"
"I might," Monty asserted, "because I can't add up long columns, butMichael's a demon at statistics, or used to be."
"He's such an old dear," Mrs. Harrington went on. "His one peculiartalent is the invention of new and strange drinks. I never come backfrom any long absence but he shows me something violently colored whichis built in my honor. And Monty will tell you," she added laughing,"that I have never been seen to shudder while he was looking. Have I,Monty?"
"You're a good sport," said Monty, "and if ever I kill a man, it will beMichael, and my motive will be jealousy."
"Well, you needn't look so unhappy about it," she cried, as a frownpassed over his face and he sank back in his chair, all his good-humorgone.
Monty had in that careless phrase, "If ever I kill a man," remindedhimself vividly of the dangers that he felt beset him and his friendSteven Denby. He had been trying to forget it and now it was with him tostay. And another and a dreadful thought occurred. Would Denby takethose accursed pearls with him to the Harrington mansion on LongIsland? It was so disquieting that he rose abruptly and went into asecluded corner of the upper smoking-room and called for a cigar and apony of brandy.
His attention was presently attracted to a stout comfortable-looking manwho was staring at him as though to encourage a bow of recognition. Hehad noticed the stout and affable gentleman before and always in thesame seat, but never before had he sought acquaintance in this manner.There was no doubt in Monty's mind that the man was one of those suavegamblers who reap their richest harvests on the big fast liners. Nodoubt he knew that Monty was a Vaughan and had occasionally fallen forsuch professionals and inveigled into a quiet little game. But Montyfelt himself of a different sort now.
There was no doubt that the affable gentleman had fully made up his mindas to his plan of action. He rose from his comfortable chair and madehis way to the younger man with his hand held out in welcome.
"I thought it was you," he said, and wrung Monty's reluctant hand, "butyou are not quite the same as when I saw you last."
"No doubt," Monty said coldly; "I am older and _I_ am not the fool Iused to be."
"That's good," said the affable gentleman pressing the button that wasto summon a steward. "Your father will be glad to hear that."
"Have the kindness to leave my father alone," the younger commanded.Never in his life had Monty found himself able to be so unpleasant.There was, he discovered, a certain joy in it.
"Why, certainly," said the other a trifle startled, "if you wish it.Only as he and I were old friends, I saw no harm in it."
"Old friends?" sneered Monty. "Let me see, you were the same year atYale, weren't you?"
"Of course," the affable stranger said, and turned to see the advancingsteward. "What will you have?" he asked.
"I don't drink with strangers," Monty said rising.
"Strangers!" cried the other with the rising intonation of indignation."Well, I like that!"
"Then I shall leave you with a pleasant memory," Monty said. "Good day."
"Stop a moment," the stranger asked after a pause in which rage andastonishment chased themselves across his well-nourished countenance."Who do you think I am, anyway?"
"Your name and number don't interest me," Monty said loftily. He notedthat the steward was enjoying it after the quiet inexpressive manner ofthe English servant. "But I've no doubt at some time or another I lostmoney to you--your old college friend's money of course--in some quietgame with your confederates."
"Now, what do you think of that!" the red-faced man exclaimed as hewatched Monty's retreating figure. But the steward was non-committal. Hewas not paid to give up his inner thoughts but to bring drinks on atray.
The stout and affable gentleman was a member of the Stock Exchanges ofLondon and New York and made frequent journeys between these cities. Heheld the ocean record of having crossed more times and seen the wavesless than any stock-broker living. He had passed more hours in afavorite chair in the Mauretania's smoking-room than any man had donesince time began. He was raconteur of ability and had been a closefriend of the elder Vaughan's years before at Yale. And he burned withfierce indignation when he remembered that he had held the infant Montyyears ago and prophesied to a proud mother that he would be her joy andpride. Joy and pride! He snorted and fell away from his true form so faras to seek the deck and suck in fresh air.
There he happened upon Mrs. Harrington talking to Denby. She knewGodfrey Hazen. He had often been to Westbury, and Michael esteemed himfor his great knowledge of the proper beverage to take for everyemergency that may arise upon an ocean voyage.
"What makes you look so angry?" she exclaimed.
He calmed down when he saw her. "I've just been taken for a professionalgambler," he cried.
"I thought all stock-brokers were that," she said smiling.
"I mean a different sort," he explained, "the kind that work the bigliners. I just asked him to have a drink when he said he didn't drinkwith strangers and hinted I had my picture in the rogues' gallery."
"Who was it?" she inquired.
"That ne'er-do-well, Monty Vaughan," he answered.
"Monty?" she said. "Impossible!"
"Is it?" he said grimly. "We'll see. Here comes the young gentleman."
Monty sauntered up without noticing him at first. When he did, hestopped short and was in no whit abashed. "Trying a new game?" heinquired.
"Monty, don't you remember Mr. Hazen?" Alice said reproachfully.
"Have I made an ass of myself?" he asked miserably.
"I wouldn't label any four-footed beast by the name I'd call you," saidMr. Hazen firmly.
"Why didn't you tell me your name?" Monty asked.
"You ought to have remembered me," the implacable Hazen retorted. "Why,I held you in my arms when you were only three months old."<
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"Then I wish you had dropped me and broken me," Monty exclaimed, "and Ishould have been spared a lot of worry." Things were piling up to makehim more than ever nervous. He had overheard two passengers saying theyunderstood the Mauretania's voyagers were to have a special examinationat the Customs on account of diamond smuggling. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hazen,"he said more graciously, "but I've things on my mind and you must acceptthat as the reason."
When he had gone Mr. Hazen was introduced to Denby and prevailed upon tooccupy Monty's seat.
"I don't like the look of it," Mr. Hazen said, shaking his head. "At hisage he oughtn't to have any worries. I didn't."
"If you can keep a secret," Mrs. Harrington confided, "I think I cantell you exactly what is the matter with Monty and I'm sure you'll makeexcuses for him, Mr. Hazen."
"Maybe," he returned dubiously, "but you should have heard how he calledme down before a steward!"
"Monty's in love," Mrs. Harrington declared, "and after almost twoyears' absence he is going to meet her again; and the dread of notdaring to propose is sapping his brain. You're not the first. He's beenout of sorts the whole time and I've had to smooth things over withother people. Come, now," she said coaxingly, "when you were young I'msure you had some episodes of that sort yourself, now didn't you?"
Mr. Hazen tried not to let her see the proud memories that came surgingback through a quarter of a century. "Well," he admitted, "if you put itthat way, Mrs. Harrington, I've got to forgive the boy."
"I knew you would," she said, and talked nicely to him for reward.
Then the romance which he had resurrected faded; and the sight of somuch salt in the waves--the unaccustomed waves--induced a provokingthirst and he rose and after a conventional lie retired to thesmoking-room.
"All the same," Mrs. Harrington remarked to Denby, "I am worried aboutthe boy."
"He'll get over it," said Steven.
"I hope so," she returned. "His nerves are all wrong. I thought he hadthe absinthe habit at first, but he's really quite temperate, and it'smental, I suspect. It may be Nora; I hope it is. She's a dear girl andMonty's really a big catch."
"Didn't you say you had bought her a present, some valuable piece ofjewelry?"
"Which I have sworn to smuggle," she returned brightly, "despite yourwarning."
"For your sake I wish you wouldn't," he said, "but if your mind's madeup, what will my words avail?"
"I'm not stubborn," she cried, "even Michael admits that. I am alwaysopen to conviction."
"If you smuggle, you are," he said meaningly. "Really, Mrs. Harrington,you've no idea how strict these examinations are becoming, and thisvessel seems specially marked out for extra strict inspections. Thepopular journals have harped on the fact that the rich, influentialwomen who use this and boats of this class, are exempt, while the womanwho saves up for a few weeks' jaunt and brings little inexpensivepresents back, is caught."
"Are you sure of that?" she demanded.
"Why, yes," he returned. "It doesn't seem quite fair, does it?" hedemanded, looking at her keenly. "It doesn't seem playing the game forthe first cabin on the Mauretania to get in free while the second cabingets caught."
"Have you ever smuggled?" she asked.
"Maybe," he said, "but if I have, it has not been a habit with me aswith some rich people I know, who could so easily afford to pay."
"Suppose I do smuggle and get caught, I can pay without any furthertrouble, can't I?" she queried.
"You're just as likely to be detained," he told her. "To all intents andpurposes, it's like being under arrest."
"Oh, Lord!" she cried. "And I shouldn't be able to get back to Michael?"
"Probably not," he said. "You see, Mrs. Harrington, you'd be a splendidtribute to the impartiality of the service. The publicity the Customspeople would get from your case would be worth a lot to them.Indirectly, you'd possibly promote hard-working inspectors."
"But I don't want to be a case," she exclaimed, "I'm not anxious to beput in a cell and promote hard-working inspectors. And think of poorMichael all ready with a crimson newly-devised drink pacing the floorwhile I'm undergoing the third degree! Mr. Denby, I still think the lawsare absurd, but I shall declare everything I've got. I wonder if theywould let Michael hand me his crimson drink through the bars."
Just then Monty made for them and dropped into his deck-chair.
"I'm going to be an honest woman," she declared, "and smuggle no more.Mr. Denby is the miracle-worker. I shall probably have to borrow moneyto pay the duty, so be at hand, Monty."
He looked across at Denby and sighed. His friend's serene countenanceand absence of nerves was always a source of wonderment to him.Hereafter, he swore, a life in consonance with his country's laws. Andif the first few days of the voyage had made him nervous, it was smallcomfort to think that the really risky part had yet to be gone through.In eliminating Alice Harrington as a fellow smuggler Monty sawextraordinary cunning. "Well," he thought, "if anyone can carry itthrough it will be old Steve," and rose obediently at Alice's behest andbrought back a wireless form on which he indited a message to the absentMichael.
Monty Vaughan had crossed the ocean often, and each time had beencheered to see in the distance the long flat coast-line of his nativeland. There had always been a sense of pleasurable excitement in thehalt at Quarantine and the taking on board the harbor and otherofficials.
But this time they clambered aboard--the most vindictive set of mortalshe had ever laid eyes on--and each one of them seemed to look at Montyas though he recognized a law breaker and a desperado. Incontinently hefled to the smoking-room and ran into the arms of Godfrey Hazen.
"Never mind, my boy," said that genial broker, "you'll soon be out ofyour misery. Brace up and have a drink. I know how you feel. I've feltlike that myself."
"Did you get caught?" Monty gasped.
"No," he said, for he was a bachelor, "but I've had some mighty narrowsqueaks and once I thought I was gone."
He watched Monty gulp down his drink with unaccustomed rapidity. "That'sright," he said commendingly. "Have another?"
"It would choke me," the younger answered, and fled.
Hazen shook his head pityingly. He had never been as afflicted as theheir to his old friend Vaughan. Poets might understand love and itssymptoms but such manifestations were beyond him.
When Steven Denby opened his trunks to a somewhat uninterested inspectorand answered his casual questions without hesitation, Monty stood at hisside. It cost him something to do so but underneath his apparenttimorous nature was a strength and loyalty which would not fail at need.
And when the jaded Customs official made chalk hieroglyphics and stampedthe trunks as free from further examination Monty felt a relief such ashe had never known. As a poet has happily phrased it, "he chortled inhis joy."
"What's the matter?" he demanded of Denby when he observed that his ownhilarity was not shared by his companion in danger. "Why not celebrate?"
"We're not off the dock yet," Denby said in a low voice. "They've beentoo easy for my liking."
"A lot we care," Monty returned, "so long as they're finished with us."
"That's just it," he was warned, "I don't believe they have. It's a bitsuspicious to me. Better attend to your own things now, old man."
Monty opened his trunks in a lordly manner. So elaborate was his gesturethat an inspector was distrustful and explored every crevice of hisbaggage with pertinacity. He unearthed with glee a pair of militaryhair-brushes with backs of sterling silver that Monty had bought in Bondstreet for Michael Harrington as he passed through London and forgottenin his alarm for bigger things.
"It pays to be honest," said Mrs. Harrington, who had declared herdutiable importations and felt more than ordinarily virtuous. "Monty,you bring suspicion on us all. I'm surprised at you. Just a pair ofbrushes, too. If you had smuggled in a diamond necklace for Nora therewould be some excuse!"
The word necklace made him tremble and he did not trust himself to say aword.
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"He's too ashamed for utterance," Denby commented, helping him to repackhis trunk.
There were two Harrington motors waiting, both big cars that would carrya lot of baggage. When they were ready it was plain that only twopassengers could be carried in one and the third in the second car.
"How shall we manage it?" Mrs. Harrington asked.
"If you don't mind I'll let you two go on," Denby suggested, "and whenI've sent off a telegram to my mother, I'll follow."
"I see," she laughed, "you want the stage set for your entrance. Verywell. Au revoir."
Monty surprised her by shaking his friend's hand. "Good-by, old man,"said Monty sorrowfully. He was not sure that he would ever see Stevenagain.
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