*CHAPTER VII*
*CAPTAIN STEWART MAKES A KINDLY OFFER*
Ste. Marie scowled.
"A caller would come singularly malapropos, just now," said he. "I'vehalf a mind not to go to the door. I want to talk this thing over withyou."
"Whoever it is," objected Hartley, "has been told by the concierge thatyou're at home. It may not be a caller anyhow. It may be a parcel orsomething. You'd best go." So Ste. Marie went out into the littlepassage, blaspheming fluently the while.
The Englishman heard him open the outer door of the flat. He heard himexclaim in great surprise--
"Ah, Captain Stewart! A great pleasure. Come in! Come in!" And hepermitted himself a little blaspheming on his own account, for thevisitor, as Ste. Marie had said, came most malapropos, and besides hedisliked Miss Benham's uncle.
He heard the American say--
"I have been hoping for some weeks to give myself the pleasure ofcalling here, and to-day such an excellent pretext presented itself thatI came straight away."
Hartley heard him emit his mewing little laugh, and heard him say withthe elephantine archness affected by certain dry and middle-agedgentlemen--
"I come with congratulations. My niece has told me all about it. Luckyyoung man! Ah!----" He reached the door of the inner room and sawRichard Hartley standing by the window, and he began to apologiseprofusely, saying that he had had no idea that Ste. Marie was not alone.But Ste. Marie said--
"It doesn't in the least matter. I have no secrets from Hartley.Indeed, I have just been talking with him about this very thing." Butfor all that he looked curiously at the elder man, and it struck him asvery odd that Miss Benham should have gone straight to her uncle andtold him all this. It did not seem in the least like her, especially ashe knew the two were on no terms of intimacy. He decided that she musthave gone up to her grandfather's room to discuss it with that oldgentleman--a reasonable enough hypothesis--and that Captain Stewart musthave come in during the discussion. Quite evidently he had wasted notime in setting out upon his errand of congratulation.
"Then," said Captain Stewart, "if I am to be good-naturedly forgiven formy stupidity, let me go on and say, in my capacity as a member of thefamily, that the news pleased me very much. I was glad to hear it." Heshook Ste. Marie's hand, looking very benignant indeed, and Ste. Mariewas quite overcome with pleasure and gratitude: it seemed to him such avery kindly act in the elder man. He produced things to smoke anddrink, and Captain Stewart accepted a cigarette and mixed himself arather stiff glass of absinthe--it was between five and six o'clock.
"And now," said he, when he was at ease in the most comfortable of thelow cane chairs, and the glass of opalescent liquor was properly curdledand set at hand, "now, having congratulated you and--ah, welcomed you,if I may put it so, as a probable future member of the family, I turn tothe other feature of the affair." He had an odd trick of lowering hishead and gazing benevolently upon an auditor as if over the top ofspectacles. It was one of his elderly ways. He beamed now upon Ste.Marie in this manner, and, after a moment, turned and beamed uponRichard Hartley, who gazed stolidly back at him without expression.
"You have determined, I hear," said he, "to join us in our search forpoor Arthur. Good! Good I I welcome you there, also."
Ste. Marie stirred uneasily in his chair.
"Well," said he, "in a sense, yes. That is, I've determined to devotemyself to the search, and Hartley is good enough to offer to go in withme; but I think, if you don't mind---- Of course, I know it's verypresumptuous and doubtless idiotic of us--but, if you don't mind, Ithink we'll work independently. You see--well, I can't quite put itinto words, but it's our idea to succeed or fail quite by our ownefforts. I dare say we shall fail, but it won't be for lack of trying."
Captain Stewart looked disappointed.
"Oh, I think," said he. "Pardon me for saying it! but I think you'rerather foolish to do that." He waved an apologetic hand. "Of course, Icomprehend your excellent motive. Yes, as you say, you want to succeedquite on your own. But, look at the practical side! You'll have to goover all the weary weeks of useless labour we have gone over. We couldsave you that. We have examined and followed up and at last given overa hundred clues that on the surface looked quite possible of success.You'll be doing that all over again. In short, my dear friend, you willmerely be following along a couple of months behind us. It seems to mea pity. I shan't like to see you wasting your time and efforts." Hedropped his eyes to the glass of Pernod which stood beside him, and hetook it in his hand and turned it slowly, and watched the light gleam instrange pearl colours upon it. He glanced up again with a little smilewhich the two younger men found oddly pathetic.
"I should like to see you succeed," said Captain Stewart. "I like tosee youth and courage and high hope succeed." He said--
"I am past the age of romance, though I am not so very old in years.Romance has passed me by, but--I love it still. It still stirs mesurprisingly when I see it in other people--young people who are simpleand earnest and who--and who are in love." He laughed gently, stillturning the glass in his hands.
"I am afraid you will call me a sentimentalist," he said, "and anelderly sentimentalist is, as a rule, a ridiculous person. Ridiculousor not, though, I have rather set my heart on your success in thisundertaking. Who knows? you may succeed where we others have failed.Youth has such a way of charging in and carrying all before it byassault: such a way of overleaping barriers that look unsurmountable toolder eyes! Youth! Youth!
"Eh, my God!" said he, "to be young again just for a little while. Tofeel the blood beat strong and eager. Never to be tired. Eh, to belike one of you youngsters! You, Ste. Marie, or you, Hartley. There'sso little left for people when youth is gone." He bent his head again,staring down upon the glass before him, and for a while there was asilence which neither of the younger men cared to break.
"Don't refuse a helping hand!" said Captain Stewart, looking up oncemore. "Don't be overproud! I may be able to set you upon the rightpath. Not that I have anything definite to work upon. I haven't, alas!But each day new clues turn up. One day we shall find the real one, andthat may be one that I have turned over to you to follow out. One neverknows."
"'Don't refuse a helping hand!' said Captain Stewart,looking up once more. 'Don't be overproud!'"]
Ste. Marie looked across at Richard Hartley, but that gentleman wasblowing smoke rings and to all outward appearance giving them his entireattention. He looked back to Captain Stewart, and Stewart's eyesregarded him smiling a little wistfully, he thought.
Ste. Marie scowled out of the window at the trees of the LuxembourgGardens.
"I hardly know," said he. "Of course I sound a braying ass inhesitating even a moment, but--in a way, you understand. I'm so anxiousto do this or to fail in it quite on my own! You're--so tremendouslykind about it that I don't know what to say. I must seem veryungrateful, I know. But I'm not."
"No," said the elder man, "you don't seem ungrateful at all. Iunderstand exactly how you feel about it, and I applaud yourfeeling--but not your judgment. I am afraid that for the sake of asentiment you're taking unnecessary risks of failure."
For the first time Richard Hartley spoke.
"I've an idea, you know," said he, "that it's going to be a matterchiefly of luck. One day somebody will stumble on the right trail--andthat might as well be Ste. Marie or I as your trained detectives. Ifyou don't mind my saying so, sir--I don't want to seem rude--yourtrained detectives do not seem to accomplish much in two months, dothey?"
Captain Stewart looked thoughtfully at the younger man.
"No," he said at last. "I am sorry to say they don't seem to haveaccomplished much--except to prove that there are a great many placespoor Arthur has _not_ been to, and a great many people who have _not_seen him. After all, that is something--the elimination of ground thatneed not be worked over again." He set down the glass from
which he hadbeen drinking.
"I cannot agree with your theory," he said. "I cannot agree that suchwork as this is best left to an accidental solution. Accidents are toorare. We have tried to go at it in as scientific a way as could bemanaged--by covering large areas of territory, by keeping the policeeverywhere on the alert, by watching the boy's old friends and searchinghis favourite haunts. Personally I am inclined to think that he managedto slip away to America very early in the course of events--before webegan to search for him. And of course, I am having a careful watchkept there as well as here. But no trace has appeared as yet--nothingat all trustworthy. Meanwhile I continue to hope and to work, but I growa little discouraged. In any case, though, we shall hear of him inthree months more if he is alive."
"Why three months?" asked Ste. Marie. "What do you mean by that?"
"In three months," said Captain Stewart, "Arthur will be of age, and hecan demand the money left him by his father. If he is alive he willturn up for that. I have thought, from the first, that he is merelyhiding somewhere until this time should be past. He--you must know thathe went away very angry, after a quarrel with his grandfather. Myfather is not a patient man. He may have been very harsh with the boy."
"Ah yes," said Hartley, "but no boy, however young or angry, would befoolish enough to risk an absolute break with the man who is going toleave him a large fortune. Young Benham must know that his grandfatherwould never forgive him for staying away all this time if he stayed awayof his own accord. He must know that he'd be taking tremendous risks ofbeing cut off altogether."
"And besides," added Ste. Marie, "it is quite possible that your father,sir, may die at any time--any hour. And he's very angry with hisgrandson. He may have cut him off already."
Captain Stewart's eyes sharpened suddenly, but he dropped them to theglass in his hand.
"Have you any reason for thinking that?" he asked.
"No," said Ste. Marie. "I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have said it.That is a matter which concerns your family alone. I forgot myself.The possibility occurred to me suddenly, for the first time." But theelder man looked up at him with a smile.
"Pray don't apologise!" said he. "Surely we three can speak franklytogether. And frankly I know nothing of my father's will. But I don'tthink he would cut poor Arthur off, though he is, of course, very angryabout the boy's leaving in the manner he did. No! I am sure hewouldn't cut him off. He was fond of the lad, very fond--as we allwere."
Captain Stewart glanced at his watch and rose with a little sigh.
"I must be off," said he. "I have to dine out this evening, and I mustget home to change. There is a cab-stand near you?" He looked out ofthe window. "Ah yes! Just at the corner of the Gardens." He turnedabout to Ste. Marie, and held out his hand with a smile. He said--
"You refuse to join forces with us then? Well, I'm sorry. But for allthat, I wish you luck. Go your own way, and I hope you'll succeed. Ihonestly hope that, even though your success may show me up for anincompetent bungler." He gave a little kindly laugh and Ste. Marietried to protest.
"Still," said the elder man, "don't throw me over altogether. If I canhelp you in any way, little or big, let me know. If I can give you anyhints, any advice, anything at all, I want to do it. And if you happenupon what seems to be a promising clue, come and talk it over with me.Oh, don't be afraid! I'll leave it to you to work out. I shan't spoilyour game."
"Ah, now that's very good of you," said Ste. Marie. "Only you make meseem more than ever an ungrateful fool. Thanks, I will come to you withmy troubles if I may. I have a foolish idea that I want to follow out alittle first, but doubtless I shall be running to you soon forinformation."
The elder man's eyes sharpened again with keen interest.
"An idea!" he said quickly. "You have an idea? What--may I ask whatsort of an idea?"
"Oh it's nothing," declared Ste. Marie. "You have already laughed atit. I just want to find that man O'Hara, that's all. I've a feelingthat I should learn something from him."
"Ah!" said Captain Stewart slowly. "Yes, the man O'Hara. There'snothing in that, I'm afraid. I've made inquiries about O'Hara. Itseems he left Paris six months ago, saying he was off for America. Anold friend of his told me that. So you must have been mistaken when youthought you saw him in the Champs Elysees, and he couldn't very wellhave had anything to do with poor Arthur. I'm afraid that idea is hardlyworth following up."
"Perhaps not," said Ste. Marie. "I seem to start badly, don't I? Ahwell, I'll have to come to you all the sooner, then."
"You'll be welcome," promised Captain Stewart. "Good-bye to you! Goodday, Hartley. Come and see me both of you. You know where I live."
He took his leave then, and Hartley, standing beside the window, watchedhim turn down the street, and at the corner get into one of the fiacresthere and drive away.
Ste. Marie laughed aloud.
"There's the second time," said he, "that I've had him about O'Hara. Ifhe is as careless as that about everything, I don't wonder he hasn'tfound Arthur Benham. O'Hara disappeared from Paris (publicly, that is)at about the time young Benham disappeared. As a matter of fact heremains, or at least for a time remained in the city without letting hisfriends know, because I made no mistake about seeing him in the ChampsElysees. All that looks to me suspicious enough to be worthinvestigation.
"Of course," he admitted doubtfully--"of course I'm no detective, butthat's how it looks to me."
"I don't believe Stewart is any detective either," said Richard Hartley."He's altogether too cock-sure. That sort of man would rather die thanadmit he is wrong about anything. He's a good old chap though, isn'the? I liked him to-day better than ever before. I thought he wasrather pathetic when he went on about his age."
"He has a good heart," said Ste. Marie. "Very few men under thecircumstances would come here and be as decent as he was. Most menwould have thought I was a presumptuous ass and would have behavedaccordingly."
Ste. Marie took a turn about the room and his face began to light upwith its new excitement and exaltation.
"And to-morrow," he cried, "to-morrow we begin! To-morrow we set outinto the world and the Adventure is on foot. God send it success!" Helaughed across at the other man, but it was a laugh of eagerness not ofmirth.
"I feel," said he, "like Jason. I feel as if we were to set sailto-morrow for Colchis and the Golden Fleece."
"Ye--es," said the other man a little drily. "Yes, perhaps. I don'twant to seem critical, but isn't your figure somewhat ill chosen?"
"'Ill chosen'?" cried Ste. Marie. "What d'you mean? Why ill chosen?"
"I was thinking of Medea," said Richard Hartley.
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