The Yellow Crayon Read online

  CHAPTER X

  Mr. Sabin was deep in thought. He sat in an easy-chair with his back tothe window, his hands crossed upon his stick, his eyes fixed upon thefire. Duson was moving noiselessly about the room, cutting the morning'ssupply of newspapers and setting them out upon the table. His masterwas in a mood which he had been taught to respect. It was Mr. Sabin whobroke the silence.

  "Duson!"

  "Your Grace!"

  "I have always, as you know, ignored your somewhat anomalous position asthe servant of one man and the slave of a society. The questions whichI am about to ask you you can answer or not, according to your ownapprehensions of what is due to each."

  "I thank your Grace!"

  "My departure from America seemed to incite the most violent oppositionon the part of your friends. As you know, it was with a certain amountof difficulty that I reached this country. Now, however, I am leftaltogether alone. I have not received a single warning letter. Mycomings and goings, although purposely devoid of the slightest secrecy,are absolutely undisturbed. Yet I have some reason to believe that yourmistress is in London."

  "Your Grace will pardon me," Duson said, "but there is outside agentleman waiting to see you to whom you might address the samequestions with better results, for compared with him I know nothing. Itis Monsieur Felix."

  "Why have you kept him waiting?" Mr. Sabin asked.

  "Your Grace was much absorbed," Duson answered.

  Felix was smoking a cigarette, and Mr. Sabin greeted him with a certaingrim cordiality.

  "Is this permitted--this visit?" he asked, himself selecting a cigaretteand motioning his guest to a chair.

  "It is even encouraged," Felix answered.

  "You have perhaps some message?"

  "None."

  "I am glad to see you," Mr. Sabin said. "Just now I am a little puzzled.I will put the matter to you. You shall answer or not, at your owndiscretion."

  "I am ready," Felix declared.

  "You know the difficulty with which I escaped from America," Mr. Sabincontinued. "Every means which ingenuity could suggest seemed brought tobear against me. And every movement was directed, if not from here, fromsome place in Europe. Well, I arrived here four days ago. I live quiteopenly, I have even abjured to some extent my incognito. Yet I have notreceived even a warning letter. I am left absolutely undisturbed."

  Felix looked at him thoughtfully.

  "And what do you deduce from this?" he asked.

  "I do not like it," Mr. Sabin answered drily.

  "After all," Felix remarked, "it is to some extent natural. The veryopenness of your life here makes interference with you more difficult,and as to warning letters--well, you have proved the uselessness ofthem."

  "Perhaps," Mr. Sabin answered. "At the same time, if I were asuperstitious person I should consider this inaction ominous."

  "You must take account also," Felix said, "of the difference in thecountries. In England the police system, if not the most infalliblein the world, is certainly the most incorruptible. There was never acountry in which security of person and life was so keenly watched overas here. In America, up to a certain point, a man is expected to lookafter himself. The same feeling does not prevail here."

  Mr. Sabin assented.

  "And therefore," he remarked, "for the purposes of your friends I shouldconsider this a difficult and unpromising country in which to work."

  "Other countries, other methods!" Felix remarked laconically.

  "Exactly! It is the new methods which I am anxious to discover," Mr.Sabin said. "No glimmering of them as yet has been vouchsafed to me. YetI believe that I am right in assuming that for the moment London is theheadquarters of your friends, and that Lucille is here?"

  "If that is meant for a question," Felix said, "I may not answer it."

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  "Yet," he suggested, "your visit has an object. To discover my plansperhaps! You are welcome to them."

  Felix thoughtfully knocked the ashes off his cigarette.

  "My visit had an object," he admitted, "but it was a personal one. I amnot actually concerned in the doings of those whom you have called myfriends."

  "We are alone," Mr. Sabin reminded him. "My time is yours."

  "You and I," Felix said, "have had our periods of bitter enmity. Withyour marriage to Lucille these, so far as I am concerned, ended forever. I will even admit that in my younger days I was prejudiced againstyou. That has passed away. You have been all your days a bold andunscrupulous schemer, but ends have at any rate been worthy ones. To-dayI am able to regard you with feelings of friendliness. You are thehusband of my dear sister, and for years I know that you made her veryhappy. I ask you, will you believe in this statement of my attitudetowards you?"

  "I do not for a single moment doubt it," Mr. Sabin answered.

  "You will regard the advice which I am going to offer as disinterested?"

  "Certainly!"

  "Then I offer it to you earnestly, and with my whole heart. Take thenext steamer and go back to America."

  "And leave Lucille? Go without making any effort to see her?"

  "Yes."

  Mr. Sabin was for a moment very serious indeed. The advice given in sucha manner was full of forebodings to him. The lines from the corners ofhis mouth seemed graven into his face.

  "Felix," he said slowly, "I am sometimes conscious of the fact that I ampassing into that period of life which we call old age. My ambitions aredead, my energies are weakened. For many years I have toiled--the timehas come for rest. Of all the great passions which I have felt thereremains but one--Lucille. Life without her is worth nothing to me. I amweary of solitude, I am weary of everything except Lucille. How thencan I listen to such advice? For me it must be Lucille, or that littlejourney into the mists, from which one does not return."

  Felix was silent. The pathos of this thing touched him.

  "I will not dispute the right of those who have taken her from me," Mr.Sabin continued, "but I want her back. She is necessary to me. My purse,my life, my brains are there to be thrown into the scales. I will buyher, or fight for her, or rejoin their ranks myself. But I want herback."

  Still Felix was silent. He was looking steadfastly into the fire.

  "You have heard me," Mr. Sabin said.

  "I have heard you," Felix answered. "My advice stands."

  "I know now," Mr. Sabin said, "that I have a hard task before me. Theyshall have me for a friend or an enemy. I can still make myself felt aseither. You have nothing more to say?"

  "Nothing!"

  "Then let us part company," Mr. Sabin said, "or talk of something morecheerful. You depress me, Felix. Let Duson bring us wine. You look likea death's head."

  Felix roused himself.

  "You will go your own way," he said. "Now that you have chosen I willtell you this. I am glad. Yes, let Duson bring wine. I will drink toyour health and to your success. There have been times when men haveperformed miracles. I shall drink to that miracle."

  Duson brought also a letter, which Mr. Sabin, with a nod towards Felix,opened. It was from Helene.

  "15 Park Lane, London, "Thursday Morning.

  "My DEAR UNCLE,--

  "I want you to come to luncheon to-day. The Princess de Catelan is here, and I am expecting also Mr. Brott, the Home Secretary--our one great politician, you know. Many people say that he is the most interesting man in England, and must be our next Prime Minister. Such people interest you, I know. Do come.

  "Yours sincerely, "HELENE."

  Mr. Sabin repeated the name to himself as he stood for a moment with theletter in his hand.

  "Brott! What a name for a statesman! Well, here is your health, Felix. Ido not often drink wine in the morning, but--"

  He broke off in the middle of his sentence. The glass which Felix hadbeen in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor
, anda little stream of wine trickled across the carpet. Felix himself seemedscarcely conscious of the disaster. His cheeks were white, and he leanedacross the table towards Mr. Sabin.

  "What name did you say--what name?"

  Mr. Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.

  "Brott!" he repeated. "He is Home Secretary, I believe."

  "What do you know about him?"

  "Nothing," Mr. Sabin answered. "My niece, the Countess of Camperdown,asks me to meet him to-day at luncheon. Explain yourself, my youngfriend. There is a fresh glass by your side."

  Felix poured himself out a glass and drank it off. But he remainedsilent.

  "Well?"

  Felix picked up his gloves and stick.

  "You are asked to meet Mr. Brott at luncheon to-day?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you going?"

  "Certainly!"

  Felix nodded.

  "Very good," he said. "I should advise you to cultivate hisacquaintance. He is a very extraordinary man."

  "Come, Felix," Mr. Sabin said. "You owe me something more lucid in theway of explanations. Who is he?"

  "A statesman--successful, ambitious. He expects to be Prime Minister."

  "And what have I to do with him, or he with me?" Mr. Sabin askedquietly.

  Felix shook his head.

  "I cannot tell you," he said. "Yet I fancy that you and he may some timebe drawn together."

  Mr. Sabin asked no more questions, but he promptly sat down and acceptedhis niece's invitation. When he looked round Felix had gone. He rang thebell for Duson and handed him the note.

  "My town clothes, Duson," he ordered. "I am lunching out."

  The man bowed and withdrew. Mr. Sabin remained for a few moments in deepthought.

  "Brott!" he repeated. "Brott! It is a singular name."