The Transgression of Andrew Vane: A Novel

by Guy Wetmore Carryl

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  FAIR EXCHANGE IS NO ROBBERY.

  At eleven o'clock that night, the electric door-bell of Radwalader'sapartment gave two short staccato chirps and then a prolonged whir. Atthe sound he looked up sharply from his evening mail, and drew hiseyebrows together in a puzzled frown.

  "At this hour?" he said to himself, and then, closing the doors of _LaBoite_ behind him, went out to answer the summons.

  Mirabelle entered deliberately, passing before him into the _salon_, andshredding a little note in her slender fingers.

  "There's no need of this now," she explained, scattering the pieces inthe empty fireplace. "It was merely to ask you to call to-morrow. I'dhave mailed it if I'd not found you at home."

  She flung back her light wrap as she spoke, disclosing a superb eveninggown, and a profusion of diamonds slightly on the safe side of undueostentation. Withal, she had a nice sense of fitness in the matter ofdress. It was a safety-valve not possessed by many of her _monde_, andwhich, at all times, guaranteed her against exploding into vulgarity.

  "I confess," said Radwalader, "that I was surprised when I recognizedyour ring. Of late, your visits have been so infrequent that when I'mfavoured with one at this--to say the least--unconventional hour, I'msure that its object is of some importance."

  Mirabelle looked at him coolly, with a slightly contemptuous droop ofher eyelids.

  "I believe that it's a characteristic of both the visits I make andthose I receive," she said lazily, "that they're seldom without anobject. As for the hour, I'm not to be judged by the conventionality forwhich you manifest so commendable--and so abrupt--a concern. WeParisians are like our allies, the Russians: we go by standards of timewhich differ from those of the rest of the world. May I sit down?"

  "I beg your pardon!" said Radwalader. "Do--by all means."

  Mirabelle installed herself in an armchair, and her eyes were travellingto and fro about the room. Something in the curious confidence of hermanner, a confidence that was almost insolence, turned Radwaladervaguely uneasy. He was standing with his back to her, lighting hisinevitable cigarette. There was nothing in his expression to indicateenjoyment of that usually enjoyable operation.

  "Any news?" he inquired, as the tobacco caught.

  "Would you mind turning around?" asked Mirabelle sweetly. "I disliketalking to shoulders."

  Radwalader wheeled upon her with a bow.

  "You are irresistible, _ma chere_," said he. "After all, what use? Iknow you're clever, and you know I am. It's quite an imbecile proceedingfor us to waste poses and by-plays upon each other. What _is_ the news?Has the Great Inevitable happened?"

  A tiny shadow crossed her eyes at the phrase, but she answered steadily.

  "If by 'the Great Inevitable' you mean that the pleasure vehicle of Mr.Vane has no further accommodations for me as a passenger, then assuredlyyes--the Great Inevitable has happened."

  "Ah!" said Radwalader reflectively.

  "He came last night to bid me good-by. It's the old story. There'sanother girl--a girl he wants to marry--and one must clear the decksbefore going into action."

  Radwalader looked at her, in silence now, but with a question in hisface.

  "You want to hear about the financial side, I suppose," she continued."How pleasant they are, these little business conferences, how friendly,and yet--how dignified! It's a pity that there must be losses as well asgains in such a business as yours, _mon cher associe_. It would be somuch more agreeable if one could always declare a dividend, instead ofmaking an occasional assignment. In the present instance, I've nofurther report to make. He's tired of me, and he's given me my _conge_,and that's all there is to it."

  She looked down, fingering the lace on her gown, as if to dismiss thesubject.

  "You asked him?" began Radwalader.

  "I asked him--nothing! And I _shall_ ask him--nothing! That was what Icame to tell you. I gather from your expression that it's not pleasantnews. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the truth is: I'm tired of thiskind of thing. I'm going away for a little rest, and I don't care to betroubled by money matters."

  Mirabelle was letting her contempt for the man before her growdangerously apparent in her voice, and he winced under it, and thenflushed darkly.

  "What rubbish is this?" he demanded, almost roughly. "Is it a joke?"

  "Oh, as far as possible from anything of the kind," retorted Mirabelle."I was never more in earnest. You wished me to engage with you inblackmailing Mr. Vane, and you'll probably be kind enough to remind methat I've done this kind of thing before. I don't deny it, but--"

  For the first time her voice broke slightly.

  "There are reasons," she added, "why I cannot do it now."

  Radwalader bit his lip. For a moment his temper well-nigh claimed theupper hand, but he was shrewd enough to match this curious unconcernwith something quite as non-committal.

  "You mean that you love him, I suppose," he observed.

  "Love?" repeated Mirabelle. "_Mon Dieu, monsieur!_ what right have I tolove, or you to speak of it? Haven't we grovelled enough in the mudoutside of the cathedral? Must we further degrade it, as well asourselves, by entering and laying hands upon the very shrine?"

  "You love him," said Radwalader, "and he's tired of you. That'sregrettable. I can stand my share of the pecuniary loss, but I grieve tosee you humiliated."

  He glanced at her, and was pleased to notice that her colour haddeepened, and that her foot tapped the floor. He was at a disadvantage,he knew, until this curious, apathetic self-control should be brokendown.

  "I can spare your sympathy," she answered. "No doubt I shall recoverfrom my humiliation, all in good time. I'm going away, as I've said.There's the little place my father left me, and that I've told youabout, back of Boissy-St. Leger, at the edge of the forest, and it'senough. I didn't come here to reproach you, Radwalader, or to quarrel. Isimply came to say what I've said, and go. I can't pretend to be sorrythat I've made it impossible for you to carry out your plans, but--"

  "Oh, _chere amie_!" broke in Radwalader, with a little wave of his hand."Give yourself no uneasiness on that head, I beg of you. I had a stronghand before you compelled me to discard, but who knows whether it won'tbe improved by the draw? The game's never lost till it's played, youknow."

  "_Radwalader!_"

  Mirabelle leaned forward in her chair, knitting her fingers.

  "Do you mean that you are--going on?"

  "Why, assuredly, my friend! You can't be so ingenuous as to suppose thatmy plans are necessarily changed by this change in yours. I'm sorry tolose your cooeperation, of course. The thing had reached a point where itwould have been easy to bring it to a prompt and successful conclusion;but, unfortunately, you've seen fit to back out at the critical moment.But, as you say, there can be no need of quarrels and reproaches oneither side. You are perfectly free to do as seems best to you, butreally you mustn't expect that your action binds _me_. I've spent a dealof time and thought over this business, and now I shall have to spendmore--but relinquish it? Why, never in the world, my friend! Beautiful,attractive, and accomplished as you are, you must realize that you arenot the only woman in the world."

  "Do you mean," demanded Mirabelle, "that you're going on--with anotherwoman--to play this whole miserable business over again, until you'vehad your will of him? Do you mean that what I've done doesn't stand foranything?"

  "I see no necessity for giving you an outline of my exact plans," saidRadwalader, "now that you've resigned from any share in them; but, if itwill afford you any satisfaction, you have a tolerably accurate idea ofmy intentions."

  "Listen to me!" answered Mirabelle, with a last effort at calm. "I havedone your bidding in the past, furthered your schemes, and taken myshare of the gain. Bah! Why should I regret it? Regret mends nobreakages. It's to the future, not to the past, that I look. I've toldyou what I want. I want my freedom. I want to go away into the country,and to forget--everything! I don't know how long it will last, and Idon't care. All I w
ant now is peace of mind. I don't say I'll never comeback to--to all this: for no doubt I shall; but for the moment, for atime, I want to be alone, and at ease. Will you make it possible,Radwalader?"

  "I? But why is it necessary to ask me that? I've said I'm sorry to loseyou. You're the only woman I can absolutely trust, the only one who canhold her tongue and do as she's told. I freely forgive you this singledesertion. No doubt there are particular circumstances in the case whichhave forced you to the course you've taken. You don't see fit to explainthem, and I don't care to ask. And then it's not as if you were goingaway for ever. You'll come back--and shortly. Paris, the Bois, yourdiamonds, your amusements, your little _affaires_--they're as necessaryto you as light or air. So, go by all means, and enjoy your vacation toyour heart's content. I'll not disturb you. _Au revoir, ma chere!_"

  "Ah!" said Mirabelle brokenly. "How little, with all your cleverness,you understand a woman! Where she can be happy in her lover's happiness,no matter at what cost to her, she must be unhappy in his distress, nomatter how free from personal suffering she herself may be! You asked meif I loved him. Well, then--yes! I don't mind saying that, becauseyou'll never understand how or why. How should you? How should you knowthat, to a woman, a man is not so much a personality, as the author ofall the new impulses and emotions which he brings into her life? You sayhe's tired of me, and I answer you that I'm more than repaid by whathe's taught me of truth and manliness and gentleness and respect. That'swhy I could give him up--because I knew that his best happiness layapart from mine. That's why I had to desert you--because I could not beparty to any plot to shame or to degrade him. What I gave, I gave freelyand fully. Ah, try--_try_ to understand! I've been a faithful partner toyou, haven't I? You yourself say I've never broken my word or made afalse move in the games we've played together. I've been loyal to you,no matter what degradation it cost me, because I knew you trusted me. Atfirst, as you know, I didn't see what I was helping you to do. Iencouraged the boys you brought to me, and cast them off when you gavethe word. And afterwards, when now and again you gave me something fromTiffany's, did I think?--did I know? When I found out, it was too late.I was bound to you in a way, and--well, I'll leave all that. My onlypoint is this: I've served you faithfully, haven't I--faithfully,unflinchingly, and loyally--from first to last?"

  "From first to last," echoed Radwalader, slowly nodding.

  "Then," said Mirabelle, with sudden passion, flinging back her head, "Iask for my reward--for my payment--for my wages. I ask of you the honourand integrity of Andrew Vane!"

  "The--"

  "Yes!--that--that--_that_! in payment for mine, which I've sold to you.Fair exchange is no robbery. I love him, do you hear? I've accepted mydismissal at his hands, but I do not choose that you should continue toplot against him, with another woman as bait, and with a spy in hisrooms watching for every little slip and folly, and ready, when you sayso, to post them all before the world--unless he _pays_! _Dieu!_ I canimagine you, as you were with Chauvigny, with little De Vitzoff, withyoung Baxter, with Sir Henry Gore, and the rest of them! 'Unfortunate,of course, but really, you see, you've been most imprudent, and everyprecaution must be taken to prevent the details of this affair leakingout.' _Et cetera!_ 'The only safe way with these people is to buy themoff.' _Et cetera!_ 'If you will put yourself in my hands, I think I canmanage it for ten--twenty--thirty thousand francs.' _Et cetera, etcetera, et cetera! Eh bien--non!_ I do not choose to have it so with theman I love. There are other fish for you to catch. Let me have thisone's life. That much you owe me. As you call yourself a man, pay me andlet me go!"

  She had risen with the intensity of her appeal, and now, white withpassion, Radwalader flashed to his feet at her side.

  "By Heaven, Mirabelle--!"

  "And by Heaven, Monsieur Radwalader! What then? Are you going tothreaten me? Do you take me for a Jules Vicot, at least? Do my handstremble? Do I shrink before you? Ah, that might have been possible atfirst: for I don't deny that I've feared you at times; but now--_zut_!It's not the first time, my Radwalader, that the pupil has out-strippedthe master. You've taught me too much for your own good. _Voyons!_ Asecret is safe just so long as one person knows it, and only one. But noman is secure, from the moment when he confides to others that he's notwhat he pretends to be. But you?--you are different. For two years past,to my knowledge, and probably for many more, you've been building up ahouse of cards. It's growing very tall, Monsieur Radwalader, verydangerously tall. You think the foundations strong, but they weaken withevery card you add. _Allons!_ Enough of this brawling. You know what Idemand."

  "And if I refuse?" suggested Radwalader.

  "If you refuse? Ah, then your game is indeed ended and your house ofcards blown down! For I'll make your name notorious, not only in Paris,but in every capital of Europe. They shall have all the details--allthat Vicot, as well as I, can give them. By the blood of Christ,_monsieur_, if you don't promise what I ask, in three days the name ofThomas Radwalader, swindler, card-sharp, blackmailer, and blood-sucker,shall be the common property of the civilized world! What have I tolose, or fear, or even consider? Nothing! You know that, as well as I.And I'll save the man I love from the trap you're preparing for him,even if I send myself to St. Lazare!"

  Radwalader sank back easily into his chair.

  "My good Mirabelle," he said, "all this is very admirable as sentimentand, I must say, extraordinarily well done. It's a pity that it shouldbe wasted upon an impossible situation. Be patient with me for a moment,and I'll show you precisely why you'll neither edify the capitals ofEurope with an account of my private affairs nor compel me to doanything but what I choose to do in the case of Mr. Andrew Vane. We arethree in number: I, a gentleman who chooses, for reasons of his own, tokeep one side of his life from the view of the general public; you, avery charming girl, most cruelly, but nevertheless conspicuously,avoided by the members of your sex who pride themselves uponrespectability; and Andrew Vane, a young person wounded perhaps, but asyet not mortally, by the shafts of scandal. Now, let us see. You desireto snatch him from the--what is it?--pit?--pitfall?--ah! trap--which Iam preparing for him. How do you go about it? You first associate myname with several most unpleasant terms of reproach, and then proceed todrag the combination before the public, and say, 'Here is the intimatecompanion of the man I love!' What does that mean? The man youlove--_you_! What a happy revelation for the friends and family ofAndrew Vane, who has been dawdling in your arms, while another woman asmuch as held his plighted word! I won't dwell on it. It's a subject byreference to which I've never sought to humiliate you--but you've drivenme to touch upon it. Believe me, my friend, if it's indeed your wish tosave Andrew Vane from disgrace, you should devise some project morepromising than a public proclamation of the fact that you've been hismistress these few weeks past. You tell me you've nothing to fear andnothing to lose. You'll add, perhaps, that the fact's already publicproperty, but it isn't. It's public gossip, which is a very differentthing. The plain fact is this: from the instant when you associate yourname with his, he's ruined absolutely and irretrievably."

  Mirabelle bent forward to look at him, almost curiously.

  "Are you a man or a devil?" she said.

  "A man, _ma chere_, and, in my own way, not an unreasonable orungrateful man. To prove that, you shall have what you ask. You can seewhat trumpery rant you've been talking, and you probably regret italready. Once for all--and as you should have known--if threats ofexposure could have effected anything, I'd have been the talk of Europelong ago. Please don't try it again. It's a waste of time and a trial oftemper, and, to me at least, such scenes are always disagreeable. Now tothe main issue. I will do what you wish--on one condition."

  "I accept it," said Mirabelle promptly.

  "That's rash, and I release you from the pledge. Wait till you know whatthe condition is. As you say, there are other fish to catch, and, quitefrankly, I need your aid in catching them. So you will give up yourdream of rustic retirement, and remain exactly as you are, and what yo
uare, and where you are. Also, the business relations between us--"

  "Ah, no--_no_!"

  "The business relations between us are to continue in force, except thaton the books of the firm we shall close the account with Mr. AndrewVane."

  For an instant the little house back of Boissy-St. Leger hung onMirabelle's vision--the rose-garden, the wide outlook on the valley ofthe Marne, the poplars stirred by a west wind, sweet with the breath ofFontainebleau. Side by side with these rose the contrasted mirage ofcrowded _cafes_, race-courses, and theatres, the half-contemptuous courtof women-weary men, the unspeakable slavery, heartache, and humiliationof the life she had lived and which she loathed. Then she lookedstraight into Radwalader's eyes. She had no need to ask if this wasfinal. They knew each other, these two.

  "There shall be no other woman to come between him and the one he wantsto marry?" she asked.

  "No other woman."

  "Vicot shall have no share in his life at all?"

  "No share."

  "And you will never mention what he has done--in Paris--with me?"

  "Never."

  There was silence between them for a moment, a silence pricked only bythe strokes of midnight.

  "As you said, fair exchange is no robbery," suggested Radwalader.

  "If I agree?--"

  "You have my word. Honour among thieves!"

  "_Soit!_" said Mirabelle. "God help me--have your way!"

  For an instant she stood motionless, and then, with an imperiousgesture, commanded his service as if she had been the empress sheappeared, and he the lackey.

  "My cloak, _monsieur_!"