The Avalanche - Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📗
- Author: Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton
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Her Name Was Marie. In That Chaos Of Flesh An Interested Eye Might
Discover The Ruins Of Beauty. Her Hair, He Knew, Had Been Black. He
Recalled The Terror Expressed In Every Line Of That Mountainous
Figure--Which May Well Have Been Perfect Twenty Years Ago. The Green
Pallor Of Her Cheek! And He Had Long Felt, Rather Than Knew, That She
Possessed Magnificent Powers Of Bluff. Her Dignified Exit Had Been No
More Convincing To Him Than To Bisbee.
He Went Back Over The Past And Recalled All He Knew Of The Woman Whose
Daughter He Had Married. She Had Visited The United States About
Twenty-One Years Ago, Met And Married Delano, And Remained In San
Francisco Two Or Three Months On Their Way To Japan. Delano Had Died On
The Voyage Across The Pacific, Been Buried At Sea, And His Widow Had
Returned To Her Family In Rouen And Settled Down In Her Brother's
Household.
This Was Practically All He Knew, For It Was All That Helene Knew, And
Madame Delano Never Wasted Words. It Had Not Occurred To Him To Question
Her. Their Status In Rouen Was Established, And If Not Distinguished It
Was Indubitably Respectable And Not Remotely Suggestive Of Mystery.
Price, Convinced That Helene's Father Must Have Been A Gentleman,
Recalled That He Had Asked Her One Day To Tell Him Something Of The
Delanos, But His Wife Had Replied Vaguely That She Believed Her
Mother Had Been Too Sad To Talk About Him For A Long While, And Then
Probably Had Got Out Of The Habit. She Knew Nothing More Than She
Already Had Told Him.
It Came Back To Him, However, That Several Times His Wife's Casual
References To The Past, And Particularly Regarding Her Parents, Had Not
Dove-Tailed, But That He Had Dismissed The Impression; Attributing It To
Some Lapse In His Own Attention. He Had A Bad Habit Of Listening And
Thinking Out A Knotty Business Problem At The Same Time. And There Is A
Curious Inhibition In Loyal Minds Which Forbids Them To Put Two And Two
Together Until Suspicion Is Inescapably Aroused.
He Had A Very Well Ordered Mind, Furnished With Innumerable Little Pigeon
Holes, Which Flew Open At The Proper Vibration From His Admirable Memory.
He Concentrated This Memory Upon A Little Bureau Of Purely Personal
Receptacles And Before Long Certain Careless Phrases Of His Wife Stood In
A Neat Row.
She Had Mentioned Upon One Occasion That She Thought She Must Have Been
About Five When She Arrived In Rouen, And Remembered Her First Impression
Of The Cathedral As Well As The Boats On The Seine At Night. And Cousin
Pierre Had Taken Her Up The River One Sunday To The Church On The Height
Which Had Been Built For A Statue Of The Virgin That Had Been Excavated
There, And Bade Her Kneel And Pray At This Station For What She Wished
Most. She Had Prayed For A Large Wax Doll That Said Papa And Mama, And
Behold, It Had Arrived The Next Day.
Madame Delano Had Told Him Unequivocally That She Had Gone Directly To
Rouen After Her Husband's Death ... But Again, Although Helene
Remembered Arriving In Rouen With Her Mother, She Must Have Been Left
For A Time Elsewhere, For Helene Had Another Memory--Of A Convent, Where
She Had Tarried For What Seemed A Very Long Time To Her Childish Mind.
Could She Have Been Sent To A Convent From The House In Rouen When She
Was So Little That Her Memories Of That First Sojourn Were Confused? And
Why? The Family Had Apparently Been Fond Of "La Petite Americaine," And
Even If Her Devoted Mother Had Been Obliged To Leave Her For Several
Years It Is Doubtful If They Would Have Sent So Young A Child To A
Convent. Rack His Memory As He Would He Could Recall No Allusion To Such
A Journey, To Any Separation Between Mother And Child After They Were
Established In Rouen.
But He Did Remember One Of Madame Delano's Few References To The Past,
Which Might Suggest That She Had Left The Child Somewhere While She Went
Home To Make Peace With Her Family To Get Her Bearings. Her Brother Had
Not Approved Of Her Marrying An American. "But," She Had Added
Graciously, "You See I Had No Such Prejudice. Neither Now Nor Then. James
Was The Best Of Husbands."
"James!" "Jim."
He Had Heard The Name Jim As He Boarded The Dummy, Uttered In Extremely
Familiar Accents; By Bisbee, Of Course. Yes, And Something Else. "We All
Felt Bad When He Croaked."
His Feverishly Alert Memory Darted To Another Pigeon Hole And Exhumed
Another Treasure. Some Ten Or Twelve Months Ago He Had Been Obliged To Go
To A Northern County On Business That Involved Buying Up Smaller
Concerns, And Would Keep Him Away For A Fortnight Or More. He Had Taken
Helene, And As They Were Motoring Through One Of The Old Towns She Had
Leaned Forward With A Little Gasp Exclaiming:
"How Exactly Like! If I Didn't Know That I Had Never Been In California
Before Except Merely To Be Born Here I Could Vow That Is Where I Lived
With The Dear Nuns."
He Had Asked Idly: "Where Was Your Convent?" And She Had Shaken Her Head.
"Maman Says I Never Was In A Convent, That I Dreamed It." She Had Lifted
To Ruyler A Puzzled Face. "I Remember She Punished Me Once, When I Was
About Seven And Persisted In Talking About The Convent--I Suppose I Had
Forgotten It For A Time In The New Life, And Something Brought It Back To
Me. But It Is The Most Vivid Memory Of My Childhood. Do You Think I Could
Have Been One Of Those Uncanny Children That Live In A Dream World? I
Hope Not. I Like To Think I Am Quite Normal And Full To The Brim Of
Common Sense." He Had Laughed And Told Her Not To Worry. He Had Lived In
A Dream World Himself When He Was Little.
The Conviction Grew Upon Him As He Sat There That Helene Had Spent The
First Five Years Of Her Life At The Ursuline Convent In St. Peter. What
Had Her Mother--Young And Beautiful--Been Doing During Those Years, The
Years Of A Mother's Most Anxious Devotion And Pleasurable Interest? He
Searched His Memory For Club Reminiscences Of A Marie Delano Of Twenty
Years Earlier, Or Less. No Such Name Rewarded His Mental Explorations,
And Marie Delano Was Not A Name Likely To Escape.
He Exclaimed Aloud At His Stupidity. The Astute French Woman Was Hardly
Likely To Return To The Scene Of Her Former Triumphs With An Innocent
Young Daughter And An Infamous Name. Nor, Apparently, Had She Carried It
To Rouen After She Had Manifestly Foresworn Vice For The Sake Of Her
Child, Even To The Length Of Resigning Herself To The Dullness Of A
Provincial Town.
But "Jim"? Her Husband? Could Bisbee Have Referred To Some Other Jim Who
Had "Croaked" Recently? Such Women Have More Than One Jim In Their
Voluminous Lives.
Ruyler Had That Order Of Mental Temperament To Which Dubiety Is The
One Unendurable Condition; He Had None Of That Cowardice Which
Postpones An Unpleasant Solution Until The Inevitable Moment. Whatever
This Hideous Mystery He Would Solve It As Quickly As Possible And Then
Put It Out Of His Life. Beyond Question Poor Helene Was The Victim Of
Blackmail; That Was The Logical Explanation Of Her Ill-Concealed
Anxiety--Misery, No Doubt!
He Wished She Had Had The Courage To Come Directly To Him, But It Was
Idle To Expect The Resolution Of A Woman Of Thirty In A Child Of Twenty.
It Was Apparent That She Had Even Tried To Shield Her Mother, For That
Madame Delano Had Been Caught Unaware To-Day Was Indisputable.
What Incredible Impudence--Or Courage?--To Return Here! There Were Other
Resorts In The South And On The Eastern Coast Where A Pretty Girl Might
Reap The Harvest Of Innocent And Lovely Youth.
Once More His Mind Abruptly Focused Itself.
Shortly After His Marriage Madame Delano Had Asked Him Casually If He
Could Inform Her As To The Reliability Of A Certain Firm Of Lawyers,
Lawton, Cross And Co. She "Thought Of Buying A Ranch," And The Firm Had
Been Suggested To Her By Some One Or Other Of These Rich People. She Also
Wished To Make A Will.
He Had Replied As Casually That It Was A Leading Firm, And Forgotten The
Incident Promptly. He Recalled Now That Several Times He Had Seen His
Mother-In-Law Coming Out Of The Monadnock Building, Where This Firm Had
Its Offices. He Had Upon One Occasion Met Her In The Lift And She Had
Explained With Unaccustomed Volubility That She Was Still Thinking Of
Buying A Ranch, Possibly In Napa County. She Understood That Quite A
Fortune Might Be Made In Fruit, And It Would Be A Diverting Interest For
Her Old Age. Possibly She Might Encourage A Favorite Nephew To Come Out
And Help Her Run It.
Ruyler, Who Had Been Absorbed In His Own Affairs And Hated The Sight Of
Any Woman During Business Hours, Had Felt Like Telling Her That If She
Wanted To Sink Her Money In A Ranch, That Was As Good A Way To Get Rid Of
It As Any, But Had Merely Nodded And Left The Elevator. He Was Not The
Man To Give Any One Unasked Advice And Be Snubbed For His Pains.
If "Jim" Was Her Husband And Had "Croaked" Some Two Years Since, What
More Natural Than That She Had Been Obliged To Come To California And
Settle His Estate? Lawton And Cross Would Keep Her Secret, As California
Lawyers, With Or Without Blackmail, Had Kept Many Others; Perhaps She Was
An Old Friend Of Lawton's. He Had Been A "Bird" In His Time.
Undoubtedly This Was The Solution. Otherwise She Never Would Have Risked
The Return To San Francisco, Even With Her Changed Appearance.
Iii
It Was Time To Dismiss Speculation And Proceed To Action. He Rang Up
Detective Headquarters And Asked Jake Spaulding To Come To Him At Once.
Spaulding Began: "But The Matter Ain't Ripe Yet, Boss. Nothin' Doin'
Last Night--"
But Ruyler Cut Him Short. "Please Come Immediately--No, Not Here. Meet Me
At Long's."
He Left The Building And Walked Rapidly To A Well-Known Bar Where
Estimable Citizens, Even When Impervious To The Seductions Of Cocktail
And Highball, Often Met In Private Soundproof Rooms To Discuss Momentous
Deals, Or Invoke The Aid Of Detectives Whose Appearance In Home Or Office
Might Cause The Wary Bird To Fly Away.
The Detective Did Not Drink, So Ruyler Ordered Cigars, And A Few Moments
Later Spaulding Strolled In. His Physical Movements Always Belied His
Nervous Keen Face. He Was The Antithesis Of 'Gene Bisbee. All Honest Men
Compelled To Have Dealings With Him Liked And Trusted Him. A Rich Man
Could Confide A Disgraceful Predicament To His Keeping Without Fear Of
Blackmail, And A Poor Man, If His Cause Were Interesting, Might Command
His Services With A Nominal Fee. He Loved The Work And Regarded Himself
As An Artist, Inasmuch As He Was Exercising A Highly Cultivated Gift, Not
Merely Pursuing A Lucrative Profession. He Sometimes Longed, It Is True,
For Worthier Objects Upon Which To Lavish This Gift, And He Found Them A
Few Years Later When The World Went To War. He Was One Of The Most
Valuable Men In The Federal Secret Service Before The End Of 1915.
"What's Up?" He Asked, As He Took Possession Of The Most Comfortable
Chair In The Little Room And Lit A Cigar. "You Look As If You Hadn't
Slept For A Week, And You Were Lookin' Fine Yesterday."
"Do You Mind If I Only Half Confide In You? It's A Delicate Matter. I'd
Like To Ask You A Few Questions And May Possibly Ask You To Find The
Answer To Several Others."
"Fire Away. Curiosity Is Not My Vice. I'll Only Call For A Clean Breast
If I Find I Can't Work In The Dark."
"Thanks. Do--Do You Remember Any Woman Of The Town Named--Marie Delano?"
He Swallowed Hard But Brought It Out. "Who May Have Flourished Here
Fifteen Or Twenty Years Ago?"
Spaulding Knew That Ruyler's Wife Had Been Named Delano, But He Refrained
From Whistling And Fixed His Sharp Honest Blue Eyes On The Opposite Wall.
"Nope. Sounds Fancy Enough, But She Was No Queen Of The Red Light
District In S.F."
"I Was Convinced She Could Not Have Been Known Under That Name. Do You
Know Of Any Woman Of That Sort Who Was Married--Possibly--To A Man Whose
First Name Was James--Jim--And Who Left Abruptly, While She Was Still
Young And Handsome, Just About Fifteen Years Ago?"
"Lord, That's A Poser! Do You Mean To Say She Married And Retired--Landed
Some Simp? They Do Once In A While. Could Tell You Queer Things About
Certain Ancestries In This Old Town."
"No--I Don't Think That Was It. I Have Reason To Think She Had Been
Married For At Least Six
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