The Yellow Crayon Read online

  CHAPTER IX

  Felix, after an uneventful voyage, landed duly at Liverpool. To hisamazement the first person he saw upon the quay was Mr. Sabin, leaningupon his stick and smoking a cigarette.

  "Come, come, Felix!" he exclaimed. "Don't look at me as though I were aghost. You have very little confidence in me, after all, I see."

  "But--how did you get here?"

  "The Campania, of course. I had plenty of time. It was easy enough forthose fellows to arrest me, but they never had a chance of holding me."

  "But how did you get away in time?"

  Mr. Sabin sighed.

  "It was very simple," he said. "One day, while one of those wonderfulspies was sleeping on my doormat I slipped away and went over toWashington, saw the English Ambassador, convinced him of my bonafides,told him very nearly the whole truth. He promised if I wired him that Iwas arrested to take my case up at once. You sent the despatch, and hekept his word. I breakfasted on Saturday morning at the Waldorf, andthough a great dray was driven into my carriage on the way to the boat,I escaped, as I always do--and here I am."

  "Unhurt!" Felix remarked with a smile, "as usual!"

  Mr. Sabin nodded.

  "The driver of my carriage was killed, and Duson had his arm broken,"he said. "I stepped out of the debris without a scratch. Come into theCustoms House now and get your baggage through. I have taken a coupe onthe special train and ordered lunch."

  Before long they were on the way to London. Mr. Sabin, whilst luncheonwas being served, talked only of the lightest matters. But afterwards,when coffee was served and he had lit a cigarette, he leaned overtowards Felix.

  "Felix," he said, "your sister is dear to you?"

  "She is the only creature on earth," Felix said, "whom I care for. Sheis very dear to me, indeed."

  "Am I right," Mr. Sabin asked, "in assuming that the old enmity betweenus is dead, that the last few years has wiped away the old soreness.

  "Yes," Felix answered. "I know that she was happy with you. That isenough for me."

  "You and I," Mr. Sabin continued, "must work out her salvation. Do notbe afraid that I am going to ask you impossibilities. I know that ourways must lie apart. You can go to her at once. It may be many, manymonths before I can catch even a glimpse of her. Never mind. Let mefeel that she has you within the circle, and I without, with our livesdevoted to her."

  "You may rely upon that," Felix answered. "Wherever she is I am going. Ishall be there. I will watch over her."

  Mr. Sabin sighed.

  "The more difficult task is mine," he said, "but I have no fear offailure. I shall find her surrounded by spies, by those who are now myenemies. Still, they will find it hard to shake me off. It may be thatthey took her from me only out of revenge. If that be so my task will beeasier. If there are other dangers which she is called upon to face, itis still possible that they might accept my service instead."

  "You would give it?" Felix exclaimed.

  "To the last drop of blood in my body," Mr. Sabin answered. "Save for mylove for her I am a dead man upon the earth. I have no longer politicsor ambition. So the past can easily be expunged. Those who must be herguiding influence shall be mine."

  "You will win her back," Felix said. "I am sure of it."

  "I am willing to pay any price on earth," Mr. Sabin answered. "If theycan forget the past I can. I want you to remember this. I want her toknow it. I want them to know it. That is all, Felix."

  Mr. Sabin leaned back in his seat. He had left this country last astricken and defeated man, left it with the echoes of his ruined schemescrashing in his ears. He came back to it a man with one purpose only,and that such a purpose as never before had guided him--the love of awoman. Was it a sign of age, he wondered, this return to the humanities?His life had been full of great schemes, he had wielded often a giganticinfluence, more than once he had made history. And now the love of thesethings had gone from him. Their fascination was powerless to quicken bya single beat his steady pulse. Monarchy or republic--what did he care?It was Lucille he wanted, the woman who had shown him how sweet evendefeat might be, who had made these three years of his life so happythat they seemed to have passed in one delightful dream. Were they dead,annihilated, these old ambitions, the old love of great doings, or didthey only slumber? He moved in his seat uneasily.

  At Euston the two men separated with a silent handshake. Mr. Sabindrove to one of the largest and newest of the modern hotels de luxe. Heentered his name as Mr. Sabin--the old exile's hatred of using his titlein a foreign country had become a confirmed habit with him--and mingledfreely with the crowds who thronged into the restaurant at night. Therewere many faces which he remembered, there were a few who rememberedhim. He neither courted nor shunned observation. He sat at dinner-timeat a retired table, and found himself watching the people with a stirof pleasure. Afterwards he went round to a famous club, of which he hadonce been made a life member, but towards midnight he was wearied of thedull decorum of his surroundings, and returning to the hotel, soughtthe restaurant once more. The stream of people coming in to supper wasgreater even than at dinner-time. He found a small table, and orderedsome oysters. The sight of this bevy of pleasure-seekers, all apparentlywith multitudes of friends, might have engendered a sense of lonelinessin a man of different disposition. To Mr. Sabin his isolation was aluxury. He had an uninterrupted opportunity of pursuing his favouritestudy.

  There entered a party towards midnight, to meet whom the head-waiterhimself came hurrying from the further end of the room, and whosearrival created a little buzz of interest. The woman who formed thecentral figure of the little group had for two years known no rivaleither at Court or in Society. She was the most beautiful woman inEngland, beautiful too with all the subtle grace of her royal descent.There were women upon the stage whose faces might have borne comparisonwith hers, but there was not one who in a room would not have sunkinto insignificance by her side. Her movements, her carriage wereincomparable--the inherited gifts of a race of women born in palaces.

  Mr. Sabin, who neither shunned nor courted observation, watched her witha grim smile which was not devoid of bitterness. Suddenly she saw him.With a little cry of wonder she came towards him with outstretchedhands.

  "It is marvelous," she exclaimed. "You? Really you?"

  He bowed low over her hands.

  "It is I, dear Helene," he answered. "A moment ago I was dreaming. Ithought that I was back once more at Versailles, and in the presence ofmy Queen."

  She laughed softly.

  "There may be no Versailles," she murmured, "but you will be a courtierto the end of your days."

  "At least," he said, "believe me that my congratulations come from myheart. Your happiness is written in your face, and your husband must bethe proudest man in England."

  He was standing now by her side, and he held out his hand to Mr. Sabin.

  "I hope, sir," he said pleasantly, "that you bear me no ill-will."

  "It would be madness," Mr. Sabin answered. "To be the most beautifulpeeress in England is perhaps for Helene a happier fate than to be thefirst queen of a new dynasty."

  "And you, uncle?" Helene said. "You are back from your exile then. Howoften I have felt disposed to smile when I thought of you, of all men,in America."

  "I went into exile," Mr. Sabin answered, "and I found paradise. Thethree years which have passed since I saw you last have been thehappiest of my life."

  "Lucille!" Helene exclaimed.

  "Is my wife," Mr. Sabin answered.

  "Delightful!" Helene murmured. "She is with you then, I hope. Indeed, Ifelt sure that I saw her the other night at the opera."

  "At the opera!" Mr. Sabin for a moment was silent. He would have beenashamed to confess that his heart was beating strongly, that a crowdof eager questions trembled upon his lips. He recovered himself after amoment.

  "Lucille is not with me for the moment," he said in measured tones. "Iam detaining you from your guests, Helene. If you will permit me I willcall upon you."
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  "Won't you join us?" Lord Camperdown asked courteously. "We are onlya small party--the Portuguese Ambassador and his wife, the Duke ofMedchester, and Stanley Phillipson."

  Mr. Sabin rose at once.

  "I shall be delighted," he said.

  Lord Camperdown hesitated for a moment.

  "I present Monsieur le Due de Souspennier, I presume?" he remarked,smiling.

  Mr. Sabin bowed.

  "I am Mr. Sabin," he said, "at the hotels and places where one travels.To my friends I have no longer an incognito. It is not necessary."

  It was a brilliant little supper party, and Mr. Sabin contributed atleast his share to the general entertainment. Before they dispersed hehad to bring out his tablets to make notes of his engagements. He stoodon the top of the steps above the palm-court to wish them good-bye,leaning on his stick. Helene turned back and waved her hand.

  "He is unchanged," she murmured, "yet I fear that there must betrouble."

  "Why? He seemed cheerful enough," her husband remarked.

  She dropped her voice a little.

  "Lucille is in London. She is staying at Dorset House."