54-40 or Fight, Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  THE BARONESS HELENA

  Woman is seldom merciful to the man who is timid. --_Edward Bulwer Lytton_.

  There was one of our dim street lights at a central corner on oldPennsylvania Avenue, and under it, after a long walk, I paused for aglance at the inscription on my sealed document. I had not looked at itbefore in the confusion of my somewhat hurried mental processes. Inaddition to the name and street number, in Calhoun's writing, I readthis memorandum: "Knock at the third door in the second block beyond MStreet"

  I recalled the nearest cross street; but I must confess the directionstill seemed somewhat cryptic. Puzzled, I stood under the lamp,shielding the face of the note under my cloak to keep off the rain, as Istudied it.

  The sound of wheels behind me on the muddy pavement called my attention,and I looked about. A carriage came swinging up to the curb where Istood. It was driven rapidly, and as it approached the door swung open.I heard a quick word, and the driver pulled up his horses. I saw thelight shine through the door on a glimpse of white satin. I lookedagain. Yes, it was a beckoning hand! The negro driver looked at meinquiringly.

  Ah, well, I suppose diplomacy under the stars runs much the same in allages. I have said that I loved Elisabeth, but also said I was not yetthirty. Moreover, I was a gentleman, and here might be a lady in need ofhelp. I need not say that in a moment I was at the side of the carriage.Its occupant made no exclamation of surprise; in fact, she moved backupon the other side of the seat in the darkness, as though to make roomfor me!

  I was absorbed in a personal puzzle. Here was I, messenger upon someimportant errand, as I might guess. But white satin and a midnightadventure--at least, a gentleman might bow and ask if he could be ofassistance!

  A dark framed face, whose outlines I could only dimly see in the faintlight of the street lamp, leaned toward me. The same small handnervously reached out, as though in request.

  I now very naturally stepped closer. A pair of wide and very dark eyeswas looking into mine. I could now see her face. There was no smile uponher lips. I had never seen her before, that was sure--nor did I everthink to see her like again; I could say that even then, even in thehalf light. Just a trifle foreign, the face; somewhat dark, but not toodark; the lips full, the eyes luminous, the forehead beautifully arched,chin and cheek beautifully rounded, nose clean-cut and straight, thinbut not pinched. There was nothing niggard about her. She wasmagnificent--a magnificent woman. I saw that she had splendid jewels ather throat, in her ears--a necklace of diamonds, long hoops of diamondsand emeralds used as ear-rings; a sparkling clasp which caught at herwhite throat the wrap which she had thrown about her ball gown--for nowI saw she was in full evening dress. I guessed she had been an attendantat the great ball, that ball which I had missed with so keen a regretmyself--the ball where I had hoped to dance with Elisabeth. Withoutdoubt she had lost her way and was asking the first stranger forinstructions to her driver.

  My lady, whoever she was, seemed pleased with her rapid temporaryscrutiny. With a faint murmur, whether of invitation or not I scarcecould tell, she drew back again to the farther side of the seat. BeforeI knew how or why, I was at her side. The driver pushed shut the door,and whipped up his team.

  Personally I am gifted with but small imagination. In a very matter offact way I had got into this carriage with a strange lady. Now in asober and matter of fact way it appeared to me my duty to find out thereason for this singular situation.

  "Madam," I remarked to my companion, "in what manner can I be of serviceto you this evening?"

  I made no attempt to explain who I was, or to ask who or what sheherself was, for I had no doubt that our interview soon would beterminated.

  "I am fortunate that you are a gentleman," she said, in a low and softvoice, quite distinct, quite musical in quality, and marked with justthe faintest trace of some foreign accent, although her English wasperfect.

  I looked again at her. Yes, her hair was dark; that was sure. It sweptup in a great roll above her oval brow. Her eyes, too, must be dark, Iconfirmed. Yes--as a passed lamp gave me aid--there were strong darkbrows above them. Her nose, too, was patrician; her chin curving juststrongly enough, but not too full, and faintly cleft, a sign of power,they say.

  A third gracious lamp gave me a glimpse of her figure, huddled backamong her draperies, and I guessed her to be about of medium height. Afourth lamp showed me her hands, small, firm, white; also I could catcha glimpse of her arm, as it lay outstretched, her fingers clasping afan. So I knew her arms were round and taper, hence all her limbs andfigure finely molded, because nature does not do such things by halves,and makes no bungles in her symmetry of contour when she plans a noblespecimen of humanity. Here _was_ a noble specimen of what woman may be.

  On the whole, as I must confess, I sighed rather comfortably at thefifth street lamp; for, if my chief must intrust to me adventures of adark night--adventures leading to closed carriages and strangecompanions--I had far liefer it should be some such woman as this. I wasnot in such a hurry to ask again how I might be of service. In fact,being somewhat surprised and somewhat pleased, I remained silent now fora time, and let matters adjust themselves; which is not a bad course forany one similarly engaged.

  She turned toward me at last, deliberately, her fan against her lips,studying me. And I did as much, taking such advantage as I could of thepassing street lamps. Then, all at once, without warning or apology, shesmiled, showing very even and white teeth.

  She smiled. There came to me from the purple-colored shadows some sortof deep perfume, strange to me. I frown at the description of suchthings and such emotions, but I swear that as I sat there, a stranger,not four minutes in companionship with this other stranger, I felt swimup around me some sort of amber shadow, edged with purple--the shadow,as I figured it then, being this perfume, curious and alluring!

  It was wet, there in the street. Why should I rebel at this stealingcharm of color or fragrance--let those name it better who can. At leastI sat, smiling to myself in my purple-amber shadow, now in no veryspecial hurry. And now again she smiled, thoughtfully, rather approvingmy own silence, as I guessed; perhaps because it showed no unmanlyperturbation--my lack of imagination passing for aplomb.

  At last I could not, in politeness, keep this up further.

  "_How may I serve the Baroness?_" said I.

  She started back on the seat as far as she could go.

  "How did you know?" she asked. "And who are _you_?"

  I laughed. "I did not know, and did not guess until almost as I began tospeak; but if it comes to that, I might say I am simply an humblegentleman of Washington here. I might be privileged to peep in atambassadors' balls--through the windows, at least."

  "But you were not there--you did not see me? I never saw you in my lifeuntil this very moment--how, then, do you know me? Speak! At once!" Hersatins rustled. I knew she was tapping a foot on the carriage floor.

  "Madam," I answered, laughing at her; "by this amber purple shadow, withflecks of scarlet and pink; by this perfume which weaves webs for mehere in this carriage, I know you. The light is poor, but it is goodenough to show one who can be no one else but the Baroness von Ritz."

  I was in the mood to spice an adventure which had gone thus far. Ofcourse she thought me crazed, and drew back again in the shadow; butwhen I turned and smiled, she smiled in answer--herself somewhatpuzzled.

  "The Baroness von Ritz can not be disguised," I said; "not even if shewore her domino."

  She looked down at the little mask which hung from the silken cord, andflung it from her.

  "Oh, then, very well!" she said. "If you know who I am, who are _you_,and why do you talk in this absurd way with me, a stranger?"

  "And why, Madam, do you take me up, a stranger, in this absurd way, atmidnight, on the streets of Washington?--I, who am engaged on businessfor my chief?"

  She tapped again with her foot on the carriage floor. "Tell me who youare!" she said.

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p; "Once a young planter from Maryland yonder; sometime would-be lawyerhere in Washington. It is my misfortune not to be so distinguished infame or beauty that my name is known by all; so I need not tell you myname perhaps, only assuring you that I am at your service if I may beuseful."

  "Your name!" she again demanded.

  I told her the first one that came to my lips--I do not remember what.It did not deceive her for a moment.

  "Of course that is not your name," she said; "because it does not fityou. You have me still at disadvantage."

  "And me, Madam? You are taking me miles out of my way. How can I helpyou? Do you perhaps wish to hunt mushrooms in the Georgetown woods whenmorning comes? I wish that I might join you, but I fear--"

  "You mock me," she retorted. "Very good. Let me tell you it was not yourpersonal charm which attracted me when I saw you on the pavement! `Twasbecause you were the only man in sight."

  I bowed my thanks. For a moment nothing was heard save the steady patterof hoofs on the ragged pavement. At length she went on.

  "I am alone. I have been followed. I was followed when I called toyou--by another carriage. I asked help of the first gentleman I saw,having heard that Americans all are gentlemen."

  "True," said I; "I do not blame you. Neither do I blame the occupant ofthe other carriage for following you."

  "I pray you, leave aside such chatter!" she exclaimed.

  "Very well, then, Madam. Perhaps the best way is for us to be morestraightforward. If I can not be of service I beg you to let me descend,for I have business which I must execute to-night."

  This, of course, was but tentative. I did not care to tell her that mybusiness was with herself. It seemed almost unbelievable to me thatchance should take this turn.

  She dismissed this with an impatient gesture, and continued.

  "See, I am alone," she said. "Come with me. Show me my way--I willpay--I will pay anything in reason." Actually I saw her fumble at herpurse, and the hot blood flew to my forehead.

  "What you ask of me, Madam, is impossible," said I, with what courtesy Icould summon. "You oblige me now to tell my real name. I have told youthat I am an American gentleman--Mr. Nicholas Trist. We of this countrydo not offer our services to ladies for the sake of pay. But do not betroubled over any mistake--it is nothing. Now, you have perhaps had somelittle adventure in which you do not wish to be discovered. In any case,you ask me to shake off that carriage which follows us. If that is all,Madam, it very easily can be arranged."

  "Hasten, then," she said. "I leave it to you. I was sure you knew thecity."

  I turned and gazed back through the rear window of the carriage. True,there was another vehicle following us. We were by this time nearly atthe end of Washington's limited pavements. It would be simple afterthat. I leaned out and gave our driver some brief orders. We led ourchase across the valley creeks on up the Georgetown hills, and soon aspossible abandoned the last of the pavement, and took to the turf, wherethe sound of our wheels was dulled. Rapidly as we could we passed on upthe hill, until we struck a side street where there was no paving. Intothis we whipped swiftly, following the flank of the hill, our going,which was all of earth or soft turf, now well wetted by the rain. Whenat last we reached a point near the summit of the hill, I stopped tolisten. Hearing nothing, I told the driver to pull down the hill by theside street, and to drive slowly. When we finally came into our mainstreet again at the foot of the Georgetown hills, not far from thelittle creek which divided that settlement from the main city, I couldhear nowhere any sound of our pursuer.

  "Madam," said I, turning to her; "I think we may safely say we arealone. What, now, is your wish?"

  "Home!" she said.

  "And where is home?"

  She looked at me keenly for a time, as though to read some thought whichperhaps she saw suggested either in the tone of my voice or in someglimpse she might have caught of my features as light afforded. For themoment she made no answer.

  "Is it here?" suddenly I asked her, presenting to her inspection thesealed missive which I bore.

  "I can not see; it is quite dark," she said hurriedly.

  "Pardon me, then--" I fumbled for my case of lucifers, and made a faintlight by which she might read. The flare of the match lit up her faceperfectly, bringing out the framing roll of thick dark hair, from which,as a high light in a mass of shadows, the clear and yet strong featuresof her face showed plainly. I saw the long lashes drooped above her darkeyes, as she bent over studiously. At first the inscription gave her noinformation. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

  "I do not recognize the address," said she, smiling, as she turnedtoward me.

  "Is it this door on M Street, as you go beyond this other street?" Iasked her. "Come--think!"

  Then I thought I saw the flush deepen on her face, even as the matchflickered and failed.

  I leaned out of the door and called to the negro driver. "Home, now,boy--and drive fast!"

  She made no protest.