by Susan Barrie
“She only speaks what you would describe as schoolgirl French,” she replied tartly.
He laughed, and patted her on one of her slim shoulders. “You have a temper, little one! But a temper is a good thing. It means you are not entirely docile.”
Then he leapt to his feet and started pacing up and down.
“How soon can you be released from this engagement with Mrs. Van Ecker? If you hand in your resignation tonight, could you be released tomorrow? It might be necessary for you to sacrifice a certain amount of salary—even to compensate the lady if she is the type to insist on compensation, and I imagine she is—but I will see to it that you are not the loser if that is the case. And as I am leaving here tomorrow—”
She, too, sprang up, and suddenly she looked almost alarmed.
“But I couldn’t possibly leave Mrs. Van Ecker until I have found another suitable position to go to! And in any case, I agreed to stay with her for three months, at least...”
He waved a hand.
“I have told you that we will compensate her.”
“We? I don’t understand...”
“My dear child,” a little impatiently, “to what purpose have we been talking if you don’t understand? I am offering you a position in my new hotel, and you will be a little idiot if you refuse even to consider it. The salary I shall pay you will probably be twice as much as the one you are at present receiving; and although I shall expect you to work—and to work hard—you will at least be able to call your soul your own in your leisure moments. And there will be no skeins of knitting wool to hold, no abuse in front of an assemblage of people. If I find you unsatisfactory I will tell; you about it privately...”
“But I know nothing about you,” she got out, as if amazed that he should even dream she would accept a position from him, an absolute stranger.
He shrugged.
“And I know nothing about you. But I’m prepared to employ you. What do you say?”
She shook her head.
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t even consider it.”
“Not even to escape from an intolerable position?” He walked up to her and studied her. “I had a few words with your American friend after you slipped away the other night. She struck me as being quite an appalling person to have to deal with at close quarters. In my hotel you will feel like a bird released .”
She shook her head again, but she couldn’t refrain from asking:
“In any case, what would I have to do?”
Again he shrugged.
“At the moment I couldn’t tell you that. In any new organisation staff has to be sifted, and you would be made use of in a capacity to which you appeared to be most suited. Behind the reception-desk, in the office, in the dining-room...”
“You mean, wait at table?” looking shocked.
“Why not?” His expression was grim and a trifle mocking. “When I was in my early twenties I worked as a waiter in more than one hotel, and it was not because I needed to do so. I did it for the experience. Whatever you do will be good experience for you.”
She stared into his dark, brilliant, slightly inhuman eyes—recalled those moments on the plateau, when he had refused to come to her assistance—and turned from his offer as she would have turned from an actual physical menace.
“You are very kind, Mr. Antoine, but I couldn’t possibly accept,” she said hurriedly. “And now I’ll have to get back.”
He picked up his pack and attached it to his back. He looked long along the path and indicated it with one of his brown, shapely hands. She thought that his coldly raised eyebrows were supercilious.
“Would you like me to see you back to your hotel, or do you think you can manage alone?” he asked, in an unmistakably dry tone. “It’s a perfectly easy path, so you’re not likely to experience any difficulties.”
“Thank you, but I’ll be quite all right alone.”
He accorded her a slight inclination of the head. Like his hands, it was an exceptionally shapely head, and the sunlight glinting through the pine branches discovered burnished gleams amongst the intense, cloudy darkness of his hair.
“Goodbye, then, Fraulein. There is no point in saying auf wiedersehen.” He bowed stiffly, strode along the track for a few yards, and then turned. “In case anything should cause you to undergo a change of mind, I shall be at the chalet down there—” once more his brown hand came into play—“until this time tomorrow. But after that I shall be gone.”
Mrs. Van Ecker had been suffering from frustration all the afternoon—she had never known so many stupid people collected together in one hotel, and not one of them, in her opinion, was worth cultivating, although she was the type of woman who had to have verbal contact with someone. When Toni knocked nervously on her door after she had hurried back to the Gasthaus she was in the act of changing for dinner, and as she had just overturned a bottle of nail varnish, and it was streaming across the top of the dressing-table, that put her in an extra bad temper.
“Where in the world have you been?” she demanded, as soon as Toni entered the room. “I give you permission to take half an hour off, and you absent yourself for an entire afternoon! I consider that’s downright unscrupulous, as I’m paying you an extremely generous salary! I’d like to know what you’ve been doing with yourself, and why you apparently imagine I’m some sort of a quixotic fool!”
She mopped at the mess on the dressing-table with a handful of tissues, and then thrust them into Toni’s hand, and ordered her to get on with the cleaning-up operation.
“Why do you just stand there, instead of coming to my assistance? Can’t you see the beastly stuff is dripping all over the place? And it’s my favourite smoky pearl, too! I don’t suppose I’ll get another bottle nearer than Interlaken!”
Toni mopped vigorously, and in a short time the dressing-table top was immaculate again, and she had even removed one or two stains from the carpet.
Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she apologised for being late, and reminded Mrs. Van Ecker that she had given her the entire afternoon off, and not just half an hour.
“You were going to have tea with the Italian Countess who arrived yesterday, and you said you didn’t want me around,” she enunciated clearly.
Mrs. Van Ecker made a pettish gesture.
“Italian Countess!” she exclaimed. “She hasn’t two words of English, and I grew tired of trying to make myself understood. Also she has a horrid little poodle dog, and I dislike women who drool over dogs and can’t even play a decent game of Bridge!”
She sent Toni to the wardrobe to search for a black lace evening gown amongst the row of dresses that were crammed into it; and then when the dress was located, she wanted her large pearl ear-studs that matched the necklace of outsize pearls she was fastening round her somewhat stunted neck.
Toni opened jewel-case after jewel-case, and searched through every drawer in the room, but she couldn’t find the studs. Mrs. Van Ecker was at first abusive, saying she was too stupid to find anything when she looked for it, and then she grew impatient because there was a dull elderly man she had promised to have a drink with in the bar, and she wanted to complete her toilet. Finally, when the studs refused to come to light, she declared shrilly that they must have been stolen.
“But of course they haven’t been stolen, Mrs. Van Ecker,” Toni tried to reason with her calmly. “The people in this hotel are perfectly honest, and who would steal them, anyway? Who would take such a risk?”
“A chambermaid might,” the American woman returned viciously. “I expect they’re all paid atrociously and can’t resist the temptation to help themselves to other people’s belongings! That girl who made the beds this morning had her eyes glued to my diamond bracelet that was lying on the dressing-table ... I saw her! I shall speak to the manager...”
“But you can’t do that!” Toni exclaimed, in horror. “Of course she wouldn’t touch your bracelet, and I’m absolutely certain she didn’t take the studs...”
“Then who did?”
Toni made a helpless gesture with her hands.
“No one. It’s just that we’ve mislaid them—”
“You’ve mislaid them, you mean! I wouldn’t be so careless as to do anything of the kind! Do you realise that my late husband had those studs especially mounted to go with this necklace that is valued at twenty thousand dollars?” She clutched at it with her fat fingers. “Twenty thousand dollars! And the studs alone could set a girl up in comfort for a year or so! Buy her a few extra clothes, anyway ... Her small, alert eyes narrowed, and she stared at Toni. “You’re not too well off for clothes yourself, are you?” With a disparaging glance at the crumpled shorts and the cotton sun-top her companion was still wearing. “Never have been, I’d say, judging by the cheap suitcase you travel around with!”
Toni felt appalled.
“You’re not trying to suggest that I—I—?” She gasped. “Oh, no, you couldn’t think such a thing!”
“Couldn’t I?” Mrs. Van Ecker tightened up her lips, and then turned back to her dressing-table. “Well, if those studs are not found by the time I’ve had my dinner I shall certainly think something! You can make a complete search of everything in this room, and then I’ll leave it to you to own up, or agree with me there’s a dishonest chambermaid in the hotel! The one I didn’t like the look of this morning!”
“But, Mrs. Van Ecker...!”
Mrs. Van Ecker sprayed herself lavishly with a heavy floral perfume, and then pricked up her ears at the sound of the alpenhom which was an unusual means of summoning guests to dinner. “How tiresome!” she exclaimed. “I shan’t have time to have a drink with Colonel Eaves. If you’re first in the dining room you’re always much better served than if you’re late, and I don’t intend to pay for inferior food.”
She gave Toni a meaning look, and left the room in an aura of perfume and rustling silk. She didn’t even say anything about having a tray sent up for the girl.
Toni began a thorough search of all Mrs. Van Ecker’s possessions that were not protected by specially contrived double locks, and at the end of half an hour she knew it was hopeless. There was no sign of the pearl studs anywhere ... the little morocco case lined with white velvet refused to be come upon tucked away in any of the drawers, in the suitcases that lay open on the floor, or in the wardrobe. It was just possible that Mrs. Van Ecker had them locked away, but she didn’t think so, for they were not really as valuable as she liked to pretend—in fact, Toni had suspected more than once that they were copies of the originals, which were probably still in the U.S.A. She was not the sort of woman to leave genuine valuables lying about in her room, and the diamond bracelet had been whipped up and secured about her wrist under the very eyes of the chambermaid.
When Mrs. Van Ecker returned to her room Toni had given up looking for the studs. She was sitting in a chair beside the window, and her employer looked at her curiously.
“Well?” Was there just a hint of triumphant anticipation in her harsh American voice. “Have you found them?”
Toni shook her head.
“No. Are you absolutely certain you haven’t got them locked away for safety?”
“Absolutely certain. I shall convince the manager of that when I invite him to come to my room and begin his own investigation.”
“But you don’t mean you’re going to accuse ... anyone?”
Mrs. Van Ecker smiled unpleasantly.
“Either you or that girl who made the beds. Which one of you is it to be?”
Toni was much more than appalled this time as the realisation struck home that she was dealing with a hard and merciless type who might even enjoy seeing her paid companion humiliated. She stood up, trembling not so much with concern at the thought of the humiliation, but with a new kind of anger because she had linked her life with one who wouldn’t hesitate to ruin an innocent person’s future. The fair-haired chambermaid who had made the beds ... not much more than seventeen, and newly away from home. A shy girl who had made such a pleasing impression on Toni that she was prepared to vouch for her without hesitation. And certainly she would never agree that she was dishonest.
So that left only herself.
“Would you like me to come with you to the manager’s office, Mrs. Van Ecker?” she suggested. “And then he can begin his inspection of your trunks.” Mrs. Van Ecker frowned at her.
“Don’t be so stupid, girl. If you’ve taken the studs, own up, and I’ll deprive you of some of your salary. If you haven’t, we’ll go to the manager’s office together and lodge a complaint about that chambermaid.”
“I think it would be better if you sent for the manager at once,” Toni replied.
Mrs. Van Ecker shrugged. She rang the bell for a maid—not the one who had made the beds—and within a short time an agitated little man with many problems on his shoulders was in her room, and going through her trunks under her supervision. She didn’t hesitate to tell him that she was quite certain she had been robbed.
The manager looked concerned. This was so bad for his hotel, and every member of his staff was hand-picked and completely honest ... Surely there was some mistake?
Mrs. Van Ecker assured him there was no mistake. She had been deprived of a priceless pair of pearl studs.
Toni stooped and picked something up that had fallen to the carpet. It was a slip of green paper that had fallen from Mrs. Van Ecker’s brocaded purse when she extracted her keys, and Toni recognised it for what it was—a receipt for registering a parcel, and declaring its value for the customs.
Mrs. Van Ecker had despatched her pearl studs two days ago to a jeweller in New York to have them remounted, because she wasn’t satisfied with the mounting!
The manager heaved a tremendous sigh of relief and departed, his American guest looked slightly taken aback, but by no means apologetic, and Toni stood and looked at her.
“Well, if I were you I’d go downstairs and see if you can get some dinner,” the American advised, glancing at her watch. “They’re bound to have something they can give you. I’m going to play Bridge.”
Toni stopped her.
“Mrs. Van Ecker, did you really think I’d stolen those studs?”
Her employer smiled peculiarly.
“Not really, although there was always a possibility that you might have been tempted. However, halfway through dinner I remembered I’d sent them to New York. But there’s something about you that irritates me at times—I expect it’s your English self-righteousness!—and I thought it wouldn’t do you any harm to have a bit of a scare. It would teach you to be careful of my things in future.”
“And if that receipt from the post-office hadn’t fallen out of your bag would you still have insisted that the pearls had been stolen?”
Mrs. Van Ecker shrugged.
“I might ... It would have given me a bit of a hold over you, wouldn’t it, honey?” smiling most unpleasantly this time. “And as I think I was over-generous when I engaged you I could have cut down on your salary. You mustn’t forget that I pay all your expenses as well as give you a monthly cheque.”
“So far, Mrs. Van Ecker,” Toni reminded her, “I have not received a monthly cheque from you. And,” making up her mind with lightning speed, “you can keep anything that is due to me and set it against any expenses you have incurred on my behalf. In future I shall not allow myself to be placed in such a position that I can be accused of being a thief!”
She made for the door with such purposefulness that, for once in her life, Mrs. Van Ecker was slightly aghast. She sounded it as she called her back. “Honey, don’t be so ridiculously sensitive!”
But Toni had escaped from the atmosphere of Paris perfume and spilt nail varnish, and she drew a long, long breath of relief at the thought that she need never enter it again.
Kurt Antoine was having breakfast in the living-room of the small, bright chalet where he stayed when he was in that area of the mountains when Toni arrived on his doorstep.
She was hatless,
but she had dressed herself in a travelling suit instead of shorts and a blouse, and she carried a single suitcase. She set it down with relief when the Swiss woman who looked after the chalet admitted her a trifle reluctantly to the small, square entrance hall, and from the living-room Antoine called casually:
“You should have left that at the hotel to be collected, and not dragged it all the way up here. That’s a steep path from the road. However, since you’ve done so, dump it and come in here and have some breakfast.”
Toni accepted his invitation with faltering steps. Now that she had taken the final and fatal step of casting herself on his mercy, as it were, she felt foolish and almost, but not quite, tongue-tied.
The Austrian indicated a chair, without getting up to see her seated on it.
“Sit down.” He pushed the basket of rolls across to her. “These are straight out of the oven, and Frau Schwartz makes excellent coffee. Help yourself.”
“Mr. Antoine, I—I had to come!” Toni moistened her lips. “I ... I simply had to come!”
He nodded.
“Well, that’s obvious, since you’re here.”
“Mrs. Van Ecker made it impossible for me to— to stay with her any longer.”
He nodded again.
“That, too, is obvious. But get some breakfast inside you and you’ll feel better.”
She put out a shaking hand and helped herself to a roll. He pushed the butter-dish towards her, and she speared a golden pat of butter, then spooned a little cherry jam on to her plate. She was quite certain she couldn’t swallow a morsel, but doing something with her hands helped her just then. And his casualness and complete lack of surprise helped, too.
He lighted a cigarette and watched her narrowly while she swallowed a mouthful of scalding coffee. Another mouthful and she had gathered together enough courage to apologise for taking him quite literally at his word.
“I fed absolutely awful thrusting myself on you like this,” she told him. “But you did say that if I changed my mind...”
“I did.”
He walked to the window and stood looking out at the supreme beauty of the mountains, and the magnificent blueness of the sky. The sun was falling goldenly, like a caress, and it filled every corner of the simple wooden-walled room, and turned his healthy outdoor tan to a coating of bronze.