54-40 or Fight

by Emerson Hough

  CHAPTER XV

  WITH MADAM THE BARONESS

  It is not for good women that men have fought battles, given their lives and staked their souls.--_Mrs. W.K. Clifford_.

  "But, Madam--" I began.

  She answered me in her own way. "Monsieur hesitates--he is lost!" shesaid. "But see, I am weary. I have been much engaged to-day. I have madeit my plan never to fatigue myself. It is my hour now for my bath, myexercise, my bed, if you please. I fear I must bid you good night, oneway or the other. You will be welcome here none the less, if you care toremain. I trust you did not find our little repast to-night unpleasing?Believe me, our breakfast shall be as good. Threlka is expert inomelets, and our coffee is such as perhaps you may not find general inthese provinces."

  Was there the slightest mocking sneer in her words? Did she despise meas a faint-heart? I could not tell, but did not like the thought.

  "Believe me, Madam," I answered hotly, "you have courage, at least. Letme match it. Nor do I deny that this asks courage on my part too. Ifyou please, in these circumstances, _I shall remain_."

  "You are armed?" she asked simply.

  I inserted a finger in each waistcoat pocket and showed her the butts oftwo derringers; and at the back of my neck--to her smiling amusement atour heathen fashion--I displayed just the tip of the haft of a shortbowie-knife, which went into a leather case under the collar of my coat.And again I drew around the belt which I wore so that she could see thebarrel of a good pistol, which had been suspended under cover of thebell skirt of my coat.

  She laughed. I saw that she was not unused to weapons. I should haveguessed her the daughter of a soldier or acquainted with arms in someway. "Of course," she said, "there might be need of these, although Ithink not. And in any case, if trouble can be deferred until to-morrow,why concern oneself over it? You interest me. I begin yet more toapprove of you."

  "Then, as to that breakfast _a la fourchette_ with Madam; if I remain,will you agree to tell me what is your business here?"

  She laughed at me gaily. "I might," she said, "provided that meantime Ihad learned whether or not you were married that night."

  I do not profess that I read all that was in her face as she steppedback toward the satin curtains and swept me the most graceful curtsey Ihad ever seen in all my life. I felt like reaching out a hand torestrain her. I felt like following her. She was assuredly bewildering,assuredly as puzzling as she was fascinating. I only felt that she wasmocking me. Ah, she was a woman!

  I felt something swiftly flame within me. There arose about me that netof amber-hued perfume, soft, enthralling, difficult of evasion.... ThenI recalled my mission; and I remembered what Mr. Calhoun and Doctor Wardhad said. I was not a man; I was a government agent. She was not awoman; she was my opponent. Yes, but then--

  Slowly I turned to the opposite side of this long central room. Therewere curtains here also. I drew them, but as I did so I glanced back.Again, as on that earlier night, I saw her face framed in the amberfolds--a face laughing, mocking. With an exclamation of discontent, Ithrew down my heavy pistol on the floor, cast my coat across the foot ofthe bed to prevent the delicate covering from being soiled by my boots,and so rested without further disrobing.

  In the opposite apartment I could hear her moving about, humming toherself some air as unconcernedly as though no such being as myselfexisted in the world. I heard her presently accost her servant, whoentered through some passage not visible from the central apartments.Then without concealment there seemed to go forward the ordinary routineof madam's toilet for the evening.

  "No, I think the pink one," I heard her say, "and please--the bath,Threlka, just a trifle more warm." She spoke in French, her ancientserving-woman, as I took it, not understanding the English language.They both spoke also in a tongue I did not know. I heard the rattling oftoilet articles, certain sighs of content, faint splashings beyond. Icould not escape from all this. Then I imagined that perhaps madam washaving her heavy locks combed by the serving-woman. In spite of myself,I pictured her thus, even more beautiful than before.

  For a long time I concluded that my presence was to be dismissed as athing which was of no importance, or which was to be regarded as nothaving happened. At length, however, after what seemed at least half anhour of these mysterious ceremonies, I heard certain sighings, longbreaths, as though madam were taking calisthenic movements, somegymnastic training--I knew not what. She paused for breath, apparentlyvery well content with herself.

  Shame on me! I fancied perhaps she stood before a mirror. Shame on meagain! I fancied she sat, glowing, beautiful, at the edge of the ambercouch.

  At last she called out to me: "Monsieur!"

  I was at my own curtains at once, but hers remained tight folded,although I heard her voice close behind them. "_Eh bien?_" I answered.

  "It is nothing, except I would say that if Monsieur feels especiallygrave and reverent, he will find a very comfortable _prie-dieu_ at thefoot of the bed."

  "I thank you," I replied, gravely as I could.

  "And there is a very excellent rosary and crucifix on the table justbeyond!"

  "I thank you," I replied, steadily as I could.

  "And there is an English Book of Common Prayer upon the stand not farfrom the head of the bed, upon this side!"

  "A thousand thanks, my very good friend."

  I heard a smothered laugh beyond the amber curtains. Presently she spokeagain, yawning, as I fancied, rather contentedly.

  "_A la bonne heure, Monsieur!_"

  "_A la bonne heure, Madame!_"