Part 2

"Perfectly. I have only to raise my voice and say 'The air is cool,' and the Countess will understand; she will rejoin us, and that being so, a lady cannot search for a half-burned cigarette. You have the desire of your quest within your reach, and yet as far removed as the north is from the south."

I looked disdainfully at him and calmly smoked.

"You are too clever to waste yourself upon such pettiness," he whispered. "In Russia I would find you a sphere worthy of your talents, and make you a duchess."

"I fail to understand, monsieur."

He leaned forward until his eyes looked straight into mine, and spoke with deliberate emphasis.

"I am going to stoop and take from under your chair a cigarette, and you must perforce permit me."

"Why?"

"Because if you attempted to resist I should prevent it. See, I slowly stoop to regain my own."

He bent as he spoke, and then, as the inspiration flashed upon me, my hands went swiftly to my throat, and with a sudden clutch I snapped my necklace, and a shower of pearls scattered upon the balcony.

"My pearls!" I cried in dismay, and brushing past him to save them as they fell, I picked up the cigarette from beneath my skirt and looked mockingly into his face.

"You are a clever little devil!" he said, with chagrined appreciation.

I smiled, for the key to the cipher was safe in my possession.

But men count for nothing in such matters, for men can even hold admiration for a victorious enemy--here there was a woman to deal with.

While the gallants who had clustered around the Countess were collecting my truant pearls, she walked across and glared into my face with eyes that blazed with fury.

In passion she tore the mask from her face, and so, because she was pleased to confess herself, I accepted the challenge and removed mine. She forgot her civilization, her breeding, her position, everything, and dropped back into the barbarous language of her ancestors.

"If I only had you in Russia!" she gasped, her lips almost touching my ear. "I'd have you flogged for this; I'd have your lying tongue torn out, and those shoulders you're so proud of branded 'Spy,' God! If I had you in Russia!"

"And yet," I murmured, "methinks these charms of Russia must be enjoyed by you alone, and swiftly, too, for surely--his Excellency will resign at once."

"God!" she cried, "if I had you in Russia!"

I turned away, but stole a backward glance at her as she stood, her whole body trembling, her fingers clutching the balustrade to support her quivering figure, and then he came forward and handed me my pearls.

It was the third time he had said it, and there was a crescendo of meaning in the phrase he whispered:

"You are a clever little devil!"

LE DIABLE

We were a gathering of diplomacy, science, and beauty. Monsieur Roche, the Premier, the first, Monsieur Vicenne, the Minister of Marine, the second, and it was I who completed the trio.

"I have offered five million francs!" Monsieur Vicenne exclaimed, with a gesture as though he had mentioned the total of the Treasury of the Republic.

"But that is not so very much, monsieur," I ventured to suggest, "if the invention be all that is pretended for it."

"Five million francs!" he ejaculated again, with wide-opened eyes, until I feared that his eyebrows would altogether disappear into his bushy hair.

"It is the method of calculating that is at fault," I said. "Five million francs. It sounds stupendous; but what is it? In Napoleons, merely two hundred and fifty thousand; in English sovereigns, only two hundred thousand. What do you really estimate the invention to be worth?"

"It is priceless. _Mon Dieu!_ Imagine." The dear man always spoke in this staccato manner. "A boat--a submarine boat. Sixty knots an hour. _Mon Dieu!_ If we--if France could possess it. England! Bah!" He snapped his fingers disdainfully.

"And all for five million francs?"

"I would pay ten. _Nom de Diable!_ Fifteen--twenty."

"Ah!" I smiled.

Monsieur Roche laid his long fingers upon my arm.

"A commission, eh, _ma chere_?"

"Mercy, no! What do I know of such affairs?"

"Twenty million francs. _Mon Dieu!_ If you could buy for ten, sell for twenty--eh?" sharply interjected Monsieur Vicenne.

Monsieur Roche tapped him upon the shoulder, somewhat irritably.

"Madame is the loveliest woman in Paris," he observed.

The Minister of Marine interrupted.

"You talk commonplaces," he cried. "Tell me next that the sun is shining."

And I was constrained to rise and bow my acknowledgments for the twin compliment.

"But she is one of the richest," Monsieur Roche continued. "Money can be no inducement."

"To serve France?" Monsieur Vicenne hazarded.

"And the love of adventure," I added. "Monsieur, I will do my best. If I am successful, I will claim as my reward that the first boat built upon this invention shall be named after me."

"_L'Incomparable_," suggested M. Vicenne.

"_Merci, monsieur, mais non, 'L'Aide._'"

I had started on my journey before I had seriously considered what a mad-brained scheme I had taken in hand. I, who knew nothing of such things, was about to attempt to persuade where the whole diplomatic tact of French administrators had failed. I was to be a bidder for this wonderful boat that had startled the world; appearing to-day at Ostend, to-morrow a thousand miles away, and all the power in the hands of a man who was deaf to entreaty, impervious to persuasion.

The experts of the navy had pleaded to be allowed to inspect the boat. His answer had been, "Keep level with it, and watch."

"Keep level, and watch"--it was a pleasant satire. England's latest toy, the _Turbina_, steamed only thirty-four knots an hour, and there were those who swore that this submarine boat at times got near to sixty.

Still the die was cast. I was to obtain, somehow, an interview with the inventor, who was so unlike others of his species that he invented for his own satisfaction, and not to sell his discovery. I was to offer whatever I liked. And if, as was probable, he refused, try and induce him to take me for a cruise, and learn what I could as fortune favored me.

It was as foolish a scheme for them to suggest as for me to undertake; but everything about the vessel was so secret and mysterious, that even if I could bring back the vaguest idea of how this craft was propelled it would be of inestimable value.

It was to the wild coast of Normandy that I was speeding, clad in a rusty black gown and a still rustier mantle that libelled nature in the manner it distorted me; and the day was as wild and boisterous as I could wish for the first act of the play, comedy, or tragedy, as Fate decreed.

The gray eve was fading to a dirty twilight, and inky clouds scurried across the gloomy sky, as I alighted some four kilometres from the Chateau de Lorme, and, setting my face resolutely to the wind, started to walk the distance.

The wind, howling and biting from the sea, brought with it merciless sheets of hail and sleety rain; and after the first ten minutes I realized that I could get no wetter, and so I mechanically battled onward, my wretched, ill-shapen garments streaming with water, and flapping miserably around me.

Saints! what a walk! A dozen times I was for relinquishing the whole thing and turning back in despair, but something kept me struggling on until more than half the distance had been traversed, and then it was better to press forward than to return.

On and on, the sharp hailstones stinging my cheeks, until I felt it must be seclusion for a month before I dared appear in Paris again, and then a turn of the road brought me before a house standing on the edge of the cliff, an enormous mansion shrouded in blackness, and apparently deserted.

Night had fallen, and everywhere was darkness and solitude. An avenue of trees led to the door, and while I walked under their shelter I had an opportunity of gaining my breath before I grasped the heavy iron knocker, and, with determined hand, knocked until the house seemed to shake with the echoes.

"Well?" at last came a gruff shout above my head. "Well, what is it?"

"I want shelter," I cried, irritably, and not with feigned annoyance, for I was shivering with the damp and cold, and wished I had never left Paris.

"This is not an inn."

"No, but it's a house," I cried, defiantly. "I must have shelter. I can pay for it."

A man's voice chuckled--what a mirthless chuckle it was!--the window was banged down with a thud, and I had seized the knocker to hammer again, when the entrance-hall blazed into light, and the door was opened.

A gust of wind threw me forward, and as I recovered myself and stepped across the threshold I caught my breath in amazement, for I, who have viewed the mansions of the greatest, never before beheld such barbaric splendor. It was an entrance-hall fit for the palace of a prince, and lighted with enormous clusters of incandescent lamps.

My wretched rain-soaked dress was making pools upon the parquetry, and I moved to a rug and surveyed my host, who was as striking as his surroundings--a tall, thin individual, with long, gray, straggling hair that hung round his shoulders, and a wild, unkempt beard. His eyes, which flashed fiercely, and seemed to read one through and through, were overhung by heavy, jet-black eyebrows.

He looked the very embodiment of Eugene Sue's Wanderer, and yet he was politeness personified, for his eyes did not turn to the pools upon the polished floor, nor to the wet trail I had made with my bedraggled skirt.

"I am favored, madame," he said, bowing, with a thin, transparent hand upon his breast.

"And I am cold and wet and hungry," I answered, prosaically, for I was determined to be in no wise awed by these unexpected surroundings.

"Three evils so easily remedied that it is scarcely worth designating them even as evils," he replied; and then, with another bow, escorted me up the staircase into a spacious corridor, were he opened a door, and stood aside for me to enter.

"I have so many guests to-night," he murmured, apologetically, "that I fear I cannot treat you as I would wish; but you will find all your needs supplied in the dressing-room beyond."

He paused in the doorway.

"There is only hunger left now," he exclaimed, with another chuckle, "and dinner is at eight. May I expect you in the reception-room a few minutes before that hour?"

"With pleasure," I answered. "And, monsieur, you have my gratitude."

He shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly, and then, with a momentary glance at my costume, waved his hand towards the adjoining room.

"You will dress to meet my guests, madame, and look your best, for you will meet the greatest men the world has ever seen."

With that he chuckled again, closed the door, and left me; while I shot the bolt behind him, and stood--I confess it--and laughed--laughed a long peal of merriment. The greatest men of the world visiting here. It was too droll.

But I was in the house of the inventor of _Le Diable_, received as his honored guest. Already I had been startled and surprised, and I wondered what the next few hours might hold in store for me. A shiver brought me back to realities. I passed into the adjoining room, a dressing-room lined with wardrobes, containing gowns and feminine adornments, before which even my own treasures from the Rue de la Paix were insignificant. Through curtains beyond was the bath-room, with every dainty requisite that a woman of fashion could desire.

In an hour I was ready to do honor to my host and his famous guests. I missed Therese. But who could look anything but bewitching in the magnificent creations at my disposal? I passed from my apartment into the lengthy corridor, noticing that on either side, with the doors flung open, were suites of rooms similar to my own.

My gown was, perhaps, an inch shorter than I could have wished, but in every other respect it was perfection, hanging loosely from the low-cut shoulders to the hem, except for an elaborate silver filigree belt that caught in its silken folds at the waist, and I felt confident that, no matter whom I might meet, I had no reason to be ashamed of my appearance.

I descended the stairs, and should have wandered about the building, impelled by natural curiosity; but I caught sight of monsieur standing alone in the middle of a spacious room upon my left, and so I entered and walked towards him, feeling a keen satisfaction in my improved appearance as my train rustled across the floor.

"You have kept us all waiting," he cried, with evident annoyance in his tone.

I glanced round in astonishment, for there was no one save our two selves in the great apartment.

"I will present you to my guests, Madame----?" and he paused interrogatively.

"Lerestelle," I exclaimed, still bewildered.

And then he took me by the hand, and we made the tour of the room.

Truly, as he said, his guests were the greatest ones of the earth; truly my host was hopelessly mad, for no reception-room that the world has ever known has been filled with such a gathering. And truly, too, he and I were alone.

Living and dead, these imaginary creatures of his disordered brain were massed together in hopeless confusion. He flung a witticism at Madame de Stael, a cynicism at Voltaire, a quotation from "Fedora" at Sardou, and a line from a sonnet at Alfred de Musset. And I bowed to the empty chairs, and humored this weird pleasantry.

We reached the climax when my host presented me to Napoleon Bonaparte, and I could scarcely restrain the hysteric laughter which was dangerously near escaping. But relief came as he introduced me to the last imaginary guest of all, the present Minister of Marine, my friend Monsieur Vicenne.

There seemed a certain irony in the fact that the man upon whose behalf I had braved this dwelling should have been, in the crazed mind of my host, included with his illustrious guests. He left me beside my friend, and I sank into a chair, with a vague uneasiness that I could not dispel, a feeling of restless horror that deepened, as monsieur, like an ideal host, sauntered from one chair to another, chatting lightly to these impalpable creatures of his imagination; laughing at some jest with this one, and anon leaning towards another, as though interchanging a whispered confidence.

I felt I was growing hysterical: a moment longer and I should have shrieked. The strain was becoming too great, the horror at being alone with such a man too much; but a gong boomed without, and he, with some imaginary beauty leaning upon his arm, passed from the room, while I sauntered behind, and far behind, too, for I was fearful of the order of precedence.

It was a relief to find that we two were not absolutely alone in the house. I was conducted to a seat near my host in the dining-room by a liveried man-servant, while a dozen more stood around the table.

Noiselessly they moved about the spacious apartment, apparently attending to the wants of the shadowy guests, at that long table set for a score.

The soup was brought, and placed not only before my host and myself, but in front of every empty chair. The wine was poured into every glass, and as each course was finished, so were the untouched plates removed and others brought.

It would have been nearly ludicrous, but for the deadly dreariness of the scene, the ghostly grimness of the picture, the all-pervading nervous atmosphere of the impending unknown. I gazed at the vacant seats, until I could almost fancy an illustrious company filling them; not the witty, animated throng that he could see, but a gathering of chattering skeletons, that grinned and gibed at me over the flower-decked and silver-laden damask.

And all the while he merrily smiled and jested--smiled at this beauty whom only his eyes could see, laughed at that jest which only his ears could hear.

Nerves, I have always proudly averred, I know not, but now I caught at the table to rise and flee from the room, when he fixed his eyes upon my face, and turned confidentially towards me.

Then he raised his glass and pledged his guests. "_A votre sante, madame_," he murmured to me.

"_A la votre, monsieur._"

As he set down his glass he placed his long, bony finger upon my arm. "Do you know why they're all here?" he chuckled. "Ah, to try and steal my invention--my boat, _Le Diable_."

Here, at last, was a gleam of sense, a scrap of rational talk, and it came to me like cold water to the fainting.

"What boat?" I asked, and my brain seemed to quicken to life again.

"Ah! ah! what boat?" he said, with a grim chuckle; "what boat?--_Le Diable_. You're the only innocent one here, and I will madden them all by allowing you to see it. I'll show it to her, Monsieur Vicenne," he cried, glaring fiercely at the empty chair beside me, "but not to you, no, not to any of you," he almost shouted, with a sharp look right down the table.

"When?" I exclaimed, scarcely able to hide my anxiety.

"Never!" he screamed, with a flash of rage. "You want to rob me, like the rest of them; you're all thieves!" he cried, banging his fist upon the table, till the glasses rang again, "a crowd of hypocritical, thieving knaves," and then as suddenly as he blazed forth he calmed down, and resumed his meal in silence, while I, perceiving that he had forgotten me, with the rest of his guests, stepped from my seat, and stole quietly from the room.

I have no shame in confessing that my self-control lasted but to the foot of the staircase, and then, like a frightened child, I caught my skirt in my hands, and flew up the stairs, and along the corridor, never halting until I was back in my room again, with the door securely locked.

To pass the night in such a house was impossible, and I unfastened the casement windows to see if the storm had spent itself. With a vicious howl the wind tore them from my grasp and flung them back with a crash, while the hail and rain streamed in, deadening the delicate tints of the carpet. To leave was worse than to stay. I could not face such a night, and, exerting all my strength, I fastened the windows again, and turned with a nervous gasp as someone knocked upon the door.

It was only a servant with my coffee upon a silver tray, which he placed upon a fancy Oriental stand, saying that monsieur would excuse me.

He seemed inclined to say more had I permitted, but one cannot question the servants of one's host. I thanked him, and he bowed and left.

I had thought of sitting through the night, but the slight indulgence of a spoonful of cognac in my coffee restored my brain to reason, while the fatigue of my journey and the excitement of the evening had worn me to death. I munched a few wafers, for I had scarcely eaten more than the spectral guests, and then crept contentedly between the scented sheets, and it seemed but an instant before the room was bathed in sunshine. The night had passed.

What a blessing is the sunlight! Sleep had completely revived me, and in more borrowed plumes I walked from my room, all intent upon my mission, and with a fixed determination that I would succeed; and then another surprise awaited me, for the dainty breakfast was only set for two, and my host courteously greeted me, and talked as a sane man upon every-day commonplaces.

Only once during the meal he relapsed, and then he leaned towards me and chuckled.

"They've all gone!" he cried; "they come suddenly at times, and try and steal my boat, but they never see it, and then, when they realize they never will, they leave altogether. Sometimes they stay a whole week," he continued, in a whisper, "and threaten me all the time, until I fear I shall go mad, but last night, after you had left, I told them boldly what I thought of them, and silently, one by one, they crept away."

"You promised me that I should see the boat?" I said, softly.

"It is a lie," he cried, with a blaze of fury.

"Very well, it's a lie," I answered, coldly, with simulated scorn.

For an instant he remained silent, and then, with a grave smile, he craved forgiveness.

"If I promised, I will keep my word," he said, quietly. "I will trust you; you shall see what no one in this world has seen, because I know you are an honorable woman, and will not betray my secret."

"Thank you," I said, devoting more attention to my cutlet than I had ever given to a Count, "but if you would rather not--"

"I never break my word," he responded. "Come to this room at five o'clock to-morrow morning, and you shall breakfast off the Isle of Wight at nine," and with that he rose from the table, and, courteously bowing to me, strolled from the apartment.

The day passed swiftly, for I was absorbed in pleasant thoughts at my own good fortune. That I could win him to sell his invention I doubted greatly, but that I should be able to gain some insight into the mechanism of the boat during the promised cruise, I felt assured.

The momentary thought that he was going to trust his secret with me because he believed me an honorable woman, did uncomfortably occur to me, but I dispelled it with disdain. What right, I asked myself, had a man to keep such an invention to himself, when it would be a crowning laurel to the glory of France?

Throughout the day my heart was high with elation, but as darkness fell my spirits drooped too, for I recollected the events of the previous night, and speculated on the wisdom, or want of wisdom, of a cruise beneath the sea with a man who, to say the least of it, was distinctly eccentric.

Yet he was sane enough now, and I would not waver from my purpose with success so near to my grasp. My fears were groundless. I dined alone, retired at ten, and slept peacefully until a quarter to five, when I rose, and, swiftly dressing, threw a long warm cloak over my arm, and descended the staircase.

The early morning was fine, but cold; no sign was yet apparent of the approaching dawn, and only an indigo sky, dotted with sparkling stars, was visible, as I passed the windows in the corridor.

My host, enveloped in a thick ulster, stood awaiting me in the morning-room, and with a cheery smile he apologized for the hour of our start, and opening a bottle of champagne, poured out for me a glassful.

"To our cruise."

"To our cruise," I responded, touching his glass with mine.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Quite," I answered, with rather a white smile, for I was cold, and, I own, a trifle nervous.

He took a lantern from the table and led the way, while I followed him along the entrance hall and down a steep flight of steps.

"You see, I guard my secret well," he said, unlocking an iron door at the end of what seemed to be a cellar, and then carefully fastening it behind us; "you are the first living soul to see my boat."

With the utmost care he guided me along the narrow passage, warning me of every inequality in the ground, and casting the light, so that I might walk with ease, until we reached a roughhewn flight of steps, seemingly cut from the native rock, that disappeared into the blackness beneath our feet, and there I instinctively paused and drew back.

"It is not tempting to a woman," he murmured, apologetically; "but the house stands on the cliff, and we are descending to the caves below."

Down, down, ever down we went, until I lost count of distance; but at last the steps ceased, and we stood upon a narrow platform of slippery stone, and I could hear the sweesh of the sea against the sides of the cave.

He flashed the light around. We were standing upon a ledge, about four feet above the water, and on every side were wet and greasy rocks; the roof above us was hidden in densest gloom, and at our feet lay the boat!

"My secret is safe, eh?" he cried, and the echoes flung back, "eh? eh? eh?" with a flood of chuckling scorn. "Even at low water," he continued, "the entrance to this cavern is hidden; only you and I, who move beneath the sea, can go to and fro."