The Yellow Claw
Page 25
XXV
FATE'S SHUTTLECOCK
Some ten minutes later, Helen Cumberly and Denise Ryland were in turnadmitted to Henry Leroux's flat. They found him seated on a couch inhis dining-room, wearing the inevitable dressing-gown. Dr. Cumberly, hishands clasped behind him, stood looking out of the window.
Leroux's pallor now was most remarkable; his complexion had assumed anivory whiteness which lent his face a sort of statuesque beauty. He wascleanly shaven (somewhat of a novelty), and his hair was brushed backfrom his brow. But the dark blue eyes were very tragic.
He rose at sight of his new visitors, and a faint color momentarilytinged his cheeks. Helen Cumberly grasped his outstretched hand, thenlooked away quickly to where her father was standing.
"I almost thought," said Leroux, "that you had deserted me."
"No," said Helen, seeming to speak with an effort--"we--my father,thought--that you needed quiet."
Denise Ryland nodded grimly.
"But now," she said, in her most truculent manner, "we are going to...drag you out of... your morbid... self... for a change... which youneed... if ever a man... needed it."
"I have just prescribed a drive," said Dr. Cumberly, turning to them,"for to-morrow morning; with lunch at Richmond and a walk across thepark, rejoining the car at the Bushey Gate, and so home to tea."
Henry Leroux looked eagerly at Helen in silent appeal. He seemed to fearthat she would refuse.
"Do you mean that you have included us in the prescription, father?" sheasked.
"Certainly; you are an essential part of it."
"It will be fine," said the girl quietly; "I shall enjoy it."
"Ah!" said Leroux, with a faint note of contentment in his voice; and hereseated himself.
There was an interval of somewhat awkward silence, to be broken byDenise Ryland.
"Dr. Cumberly has told you the news?" she asked, dropping for the momenther syncopated and pugnacious manner.
Leroux closed his eyes and leant back upon the couch.
"Yes," he replied. "And to think that I am a useless wreck--a poorparody of a man--whilst--Mira is... Oh, God! help me!--God help HER!"
He was visibly contending with his emotions; and Helen Cumberly foundherself forced to turn her head aside.
"I have been blind," continued Leroux, in a forced, monotonous voice."That Mira has not--deceived me, in the worst sense of the word, isin no way due to my care of her. I recognize that, and I accept mypunishment; for I deserved it. But what now overwhelms me is theknowledge, the frightful knowledge, that in a sense I have misjudgedher, that I have remained here inert, making no effort, thinking herabsence voluntary, whilst--God help her!--she has been"...
"Once again, Leroux," interrupted Dr. Cumberly, "I must ask you not totake too black a view. I blame myself more than I blame you, for havingfailed to perceive what as an intimate friend I had every opportunity toperceive; that your wife was acquiring the opium habit. You have told methat you count her as dead"--he stood beside Leroux, resting both handsupon the bowed shoulders--"I have not encouraged you to change thatview. One who has cultivated--the--vice, to a point where protractedabsences become necessary--you understand me?--is, so far as myexperience goes"...
"Incurable! I quite understand," jerked Leroux. "A thousand times betterdead, indeed."
"The facts as I see them," resumed the physician, "as I see them, arethese: by some fatality, at present inexplicable, a victim of the opiumsyndicate met her death in this flat. Realizing that the inquiriesbrought to bear would inevitably lead to the cross-examination of Mrs.Leroux, the opium syndicate has detained her; was forced to detain her."
"Where is the place," began Leroux, in a voice rising higher with everysyllable--"where is the infamous den to which--to which"...
Dr. Cumberly pressed his hands firmly upon the speaker's shoulders.
"It is only a question of time, Leroux," he said, "and you will have thesatisfaction of knowing that--though at a great cost to yourself--thisdreadful evil has been stamped out, that this yellow peril has been tornfrom the heart of society. Now, I must leave you for the present; butrest assured that everything possible is being done to close the netsabout Mr. King."
"Ah!" whispered Leroux, "MR. KING!"
"The circle is narrowing," continued the physician. "I may not divulgeconfidences; but a very clever man--the greatest practical criminologistin Europe--is devoting the whole of his time, night and day, to thisobject."
Helen Cumberly and Denise Ryland exhibited a keen interest in the words,but Leroux, with closed eyes, merely nodded in a dull way. Shortly,Dr. Cumberly took his departure, and, Helen looking at her companioninterrogatively:--
"I think," said Denise Ryland, addressing Leroux, "that you should notover-tax your strength at present." She walked across to where he sat,and examined some proofslips lying upon the little table beside thecouch. "'Martin Zeda,'" she said, with a certain high disdain. "Leave'Martin Zeda' alone for once, and read a really cheerful book!"
Leroux forced a smile to his lips.
"The correction of these proofs," he said diffidently, "exacts no greatmental strain, but is sufficient to--distract my mind. Work, after all,is nature's own sedative."
"I rather agree with Mr. Leroux, Denise," said Helen;--"and really youmust allow him to know best."
"Thank you," said Leroux, meeting her eyes momentarily. "I feared that Iwas about to be sent to bed like a naughty boy!"
"I hope it's fine to-morrow," said Helen rapidly. "A drive to Richmondwill be quite delightful."
"I think, myself," agreed Leroux, "that it will hasten my recovery tobreathe the fresh air once again."
Knowing how eagerly he longed for health and strength, and to whatpurpose, the girl found something very pathetic in the words.
"I wish you were well enough to come out this afternoon," she said; "Iam going to a private view at Olaf van Noord's studio. It is sure tobe an extraordinary afternoon. He is the god of the Soho futurists,you know. And his pictures are the weirdest nightmares imaginable.One always meets such singular people there, too, and I am honored inreceiving an invitation to represent the Planet!"
"I consider," said Denise Ryland, head wagging furiously again, "thatthe man is... mad. He had an exhibition... in Paris ... and everybody...laughed at him... simply LAUGHED at him."
"But financially, he is very successful," added Helen.
"Financially!" exclaimed Denise Ryland, "FINANCIALLY! To criticize aman's work... financially, is about as... sensible as... to judge theVenus... de Milo... by weight!--or to sell the works... of Leonardo...da Vinci by the... yard! Olaf van Noord is nothing but... a fool... ofthe worst possible... description... imaginable."
"He is at least an entertaining fool!" protested Helen, laughingly.
"A mountebank!" cried Denise Ryland; "a clown... a pantaloon... a wholefamily of... idiots... rolled into one!"
"It seems unkind to run away and leave you here--in your loneliness,"said Helen to Leroux; "but really I must be off to the wilds ofSoho."...
"To-morrow," said Leroux, standing up and fixing his eyes upon herlingeringly, "will be a red-letter day. I have no right to complain,whilst such good friends remain to me--such true friends."...