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Medenham resolved to end this farce of pretense, else he would not be answerable for the manner of his speech. "I mean to find Miss Vanrenen," he said. "Pray let that suffice for the hour. Any further explanation you may require can be given at Bristol and in her presence." Mrs. Devar began to sob. He heard her, and of all things that he hated it was to become the cause of a woman's tears.
Still, his gestures were eloquent. Quite obviously, he was saying to a man whose arm he caught: "Did you ever in your life see anybody more like George than that chauffeur? Why, damme, it is Medenham!" So Mrs. Devar lost a golden opportunity. She knew Fenton by sight, and her shrewd wits must have set her on the right track had she witnessed his bewilderment.
"This young gentleman here," and she nodded at the dismayed Devar, "told us that he cottoned to your husband, my dear, something remarkable on board the steamer, so he sent a message by wireless to the editor of a New York paper, asking him to let America know that one of her citizens who had won distinction in China was homeward bound, and the editor circulated a real nice paragraph about it.
"Come, dear," she murmured, "I am tired, it would seem; and you, you must be quite worn out with anxiety." "My darling child," gushed Mrs. Devar, "I should have been nearly dead if I had not known that Fitzroy was with you, but he is one of those men who inspire confidence. I refused to admit even to myself that anything of evil consequence could happen to you while he was present.
"They're just off to the caves," put in the girl. "While Mrs. Devar writes her postcards, I suppose?" said Medenham innocently. "What! Is that the old party with the hair? I thought she was the young lady's mother. She's gone with them. She looks that sort of meddler not half. Two's company an' three's none is my motto, cave or no cave." She tried her most bewitching smile on Medenham this time.
Devar, and not Cynthia, who leaned forward and said pleasantly: "You seem to be in a hurry to leave Bournemouth, Fitzroy." "I am not enamored of bricks and mortar on a fine morning," he answered. "Well, I have full confidence in you, but don't embroil us with the police. We have a good deal to see to-day, I understand." Then he heard the strenuous voice addressing Cynthia.
Cynthia, however, was watching him, and she laughed gleefully. "Ah, Fitzroy, you hadn't heard of Vendetta before," she cried. "Confess now your faith in Tomkinson is shaken." "Vendetta certainly does sound like war to the knife," said he. "It is twenty to one," purred Mrs. Devar complacently. "I shall risk the five pounds I won on the first race, and it will be very nice if I receive a hundred."
"Yes. Mr. Devar and I accompanied him to de Courtois's room, and set the rascal free." "That settles it," said the roundsman emphatically. "If the man with the camera eye has looked de Courtois over it is all up with the whole bunch. Are you listening, Anatole? This should be real lively hearing for you." "Monsieur de Courtois is a friend of mine," came the sullen response. "Oh, is he?
"Of all the odd things!" she murmured, little dreaming that her chance question had sent a thrill of sheer delight through Medenham's every vein. "What is it now?" inquired Mrs. Devar vindictively, for she detested these half confidences. "Oh, nothing of any importance. Fitzroy footed the bill, it seems." "Very probably. He must have bribed the girl to be impudent." Cynthia left it at that.
Horace P. Curtis had partaken of a tonic in the shape of a highball. "Well!" she gasped. For once she was practically speechless, but she gave the astounded Devar a pitiless glance which said plainly: "Wait till I get my breath, young man, and I'll take some of the cocksureness out of you!" Steingall soon gathered his scattered wits. "Are you really speaking seriously, Mr. Curtis?" he asked.
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