The Mask - A Story of Love and Adventure

Arthur Hornblow

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• Publié par: astlio
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 11
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mask,
by Arthur Hornblow, Illustrated by Paul
Stahr
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Title: The Mask
A Story of Love and Adventure
Author: Arthur Hornblow
Release Date: December 18, 2006 [eBook #20131]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASK***
E-text prepared by Al HainesA small jewelled hand struck him full on the mouth.
A small jewelled hand struck him full on the mouth.
THE MASK
A Story of Love and Adventure
BY
ARTHUR HORNBLOWAUTHOR OF THE NOVELS "THE LION AND THE MOUSE,"
"THE GAMBLERS," "BOUGHT AND PAID FOR,"
"BY RIGHT OF CONQUEST," "THE END OF THE GAME," ETC.
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
PAUL STAHR
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
PUBLISHERS ———— NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
The Mask
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I CHAPTER VI CHAPTER XI CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER II CHAPTER VII CHAPTER IXI CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER III CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER IV CHAPTER IX CHAPTER XIV CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER V CHAPTER X CHAPTER XV CHAPTER XX
ILLUSTRATIONS
A small jewelled hand struck him full on the mouth. . . . Frontispiece
"Yes, you are my brother. We are twins.""I adore you—I adore you," he murmured, as he kissed her again.
THE MASK
CHAPTER I
"There! What did I tell you? The news is out!"
With a muttered exclamation of annoyance, Kenneth Traynor put down his coffee cup
with a crash and, leaning over the table, pointed out to his wife a despatch from London,
given prominence in the morning paper, which ran as follows:
Advices from Cape Town report the finding on a farm near Fontein, a hundred miles north of here, of a
diamond which in size is only second to the famous Koh-i-noor. The stone, which is in the shape of an egg
with the top cut off, weighs 1,649 carats, and was discovered after blasting at the foot of some rocks on land
adjacent to the tract owned by the Americo-African Mining Company of New York. It is understood that the
American Company is negotiating for the property; some say the transfer has already been made. If this is true,
the finding of this colossal stone means a windfall for the Yankee stockholders.
The Traynor home, No. —— Gramercy Park, was one of those dignified, old-fashioned
residences that still remain in New York to remind our vulgar, ostentatious nouveaux riches of
the days when culture and refinement counted for something more than mere wealth.
Overlooking the railed-in square with its green lawns, pretty winding paths and well-dressed
children romping at play, it had a high stoop which opened into a wide hall, decorated with
obsolete weapons and trophies of the hunt. On the right were rich tapestries, masking the
folding doors of a spacious drawing-room, richly decorated and furnished in Louis XIV.
period. Beyond this, to the rear of the house which had been built out to the extreme end of
the lot, was the splendidly appointed dining-room with its magnificent fireplace of sculptured
white marble, surmounted by a striking portrait in oils by Carolus Duran of Mrs. Traynor—a
painting which had been one of the most successful pictures of the previous year's salon.
In a clinging, white silk negligée gown, the gossamer folds of which only partially veiled
the outlines of a slender, graceful figure, Helen sat at the breakfast table opposite her husband,
toying languidly with her knife and fork. It was nearly noon, long past the usual breakfast
time, and by every known gastronomical law her appetite should have been on keen edge. But
this morning she left everything untasted. Even the delicious wheat cakes, which none better
than Mammy, their Southern cook, knew how to do to a point, did not tempt her. They had
been out to dinner the night before. Her head ached; she was nervous and feverish. Always
full of good spirits and laughter, ever the soul and life of the house, it was unusual to find her
in this mood, and if her husband, now voraciously devouring the tempting array of ham and
eggs spread before him, had not been so absorbed in the news of the day, he would have
quickly noticed it, and guessed there was something amiss.
Certainly the appearance of the dining-room was enough to upset the nerves of anyone,
especially a sensitive young woman who prided herself on her housekeeping. All around was
chaos and confusion. The usually sedate, orderly dining-room was littered with trunks, grips,
umbrellas and canes enveloped in rugs—all the confusion incidental to a hurried departure.She took the newspaper, read the despatch and handed it back in silence.
"Isn't that the very deuce!" he went on peevishly. "We've been trying our utmost to keep it
secret. Unless we're quick, there'll be a rush of adventurers from all parts of the world before
we can secure the options. Happily the despatch is vague. They don't know all the facts. If
they did——" Lowering his voice and looking around cautiously to make sure that the butler
had left the room and no one was listening, he continued: "Besides you know what I am to
bring back. It couldn't be entrusted to anyone else. Just think—a stone worth nearly a million
dollars! I hope no one will guess I have it in my possession. It must be brought safe to New
York. That's why it's so important that I go at once. Even by catching the Mauretania to-
morrow, I can't reach Cape Town for a month, and every moment counts now."
As Helen was still silent he glanced across the table at her for the first time. Her pallor and
the drooping lines about her mouth told him something was wrong. Instantly concerned, he
asked:
"What's the matter, dear?"
"I'm horribly nervous."
"What about?"
"This trip of yours, of course."
"You ought to be used to them by this time. This isn't the first time I've had to leave you
since our marriage."
"I didn't mind the other trips so much. When you went to Mexico and Alaska, it didn't
seem so far away. But this journey to South Africa is different. You are running a terrible risk
carrying that diamond. I can't shake off a horrible feeling that something dreadful will
happen."
Surprised less at what she said than at her serious manner, he laid down the newspaper,
and, jumping up, went over to her. His wife sat motionless, her lips trembling, her large eyes
filled with tears. In spite of a palpable effort at self-control, it was evident that she was
laboring under great nervous tension. Bending caressingly over her, he said anxiously:
"Why Helen, old girl! What's the matter?"
She made no answer. Her head fell on his breast. For a moment she could not speak. Her
emotion seemed to choke her utterance, paralyze her speech. He insisted:
"What is it, dearie?" he demanded.
"I'm so nervous about your going, I'm so afraid about your having the diamond," she
sobbed. Suddenly, as if unable longer to control herself, she rose from the table and threw her
arms around his neck. Passionately she cried: "Oh, Kenneth, don't go! Don't go! I feel that
something will happen."
He laughed carelessly as he fondled her. More seriously he replied:
"I hope something does happen. That's what I'm going out there for. Why, Helen dear, I
don't think you quite realize what this trip means to us. If the deal goes through, and we get
full control of all that property, we'll all be as rich as Croesus. Just think, dear, 300,000 square
miles of the most wonderful diamond producing country. In ten days they found 400
beautifully clear stones, some of them weighing over a hundred carats. If the reports are true,
we shall have a group of mines as valuable as the famous De Beers group. Do you know whatthey have produced to date in actual money?"
The young woman shook her head. Usually she was glad enough to listen to her husband's
business plans, but to-day they wearied her. Her mind was too much preoccupied with
something that concerned her far more. The idea of this coming separation, the knowledge that
he was running a risk, had left her singularly depressed. She had tried to remain calm and
control her emotion, but the effort was beyond her. The prospect of this separation, with its
vague, undefined forebodings of disaster, was simply intolerable. The tears she was unable to
restrain rolled silently down her cheeks.
He looked at her in surprise. Never had he seen her in this mood. Approaching her more
closely, he said kindly:
"That can't be the only reason, dear, what's the matter?"
She hesitated a moment before she answered:
"I'm very nervous to-day. I was dreadfully irritated last night at the dinner. I wish I hadn't
gone——"
"Who irritated you?"
"That man Signor Keralio. I simply can't tolerate the man. How I hate him!"
"Why—what did he do?"
"He did nothing. He wouldn't dare—there. But I wouldn't care to be alone with him. His
eyes were enough