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He had been called away to operate on the feet of a wealthy patient who knew the value of his time: his housekeeper expected that he would return to dinner. As to his conduct toward Mrs. Zant, he was not only as attentive as ever he was almost oppressively affectionate in his language and manner. There was no service that a man could render which he had not eagerly offered to her.
Zant; and I am indeed glad to see you here. We none of us know do we? how soon we may want a friend. No offense, I hope? Thank you, sir. Good-morning." There was nothing in the woman's eyes which indicated an unsettled mind; nothing in the appearance of her lips which suggested habits of intoxication.
Of course, M. van Zant accepted; and since then this Señor Sperati has travelled everywhere with us, has had the entrée like one of us, and his friend, the bad rider, has fairly bewitched my stepmother, for she is ever with him, ever with them both, and and Ah, mon Dieu! the lion smiles, and my people die! Why does it 'smile' for no others? Why is it only they my father, my brother they alone?"
One week later, on April 1, there was a fire in the storehouse of a man named Van Zant; on the following Saturday evening there was another fire, and while the people were returning from this there was still another; and on the next day, Sunday, there was another alarm, and by this time the whole town had been worked up to the highest pitch of excitement.
THREE days later, the father and daughter arrived toward evening at St. Sallins-on-Sea. They found Mrs. Zant at the station. The poor woman's joy, on seeing them, expressed itself like the joy of a child. "Oh, I am so glad! so glad!" was all she could say when they met. Lucy was half-smothered with kisses, and was made supremely happy by a present of the finest doll she had ever possessed. Mrs.
Her lips were a little parted: her head drooped slightly toward her shoulder, in an attitude which suggested listening for something or waiting for something. In the warm brilliant light, she stood before the two men, a living creature self-isolated in a stillness like the stillness of death. John Zant was ready with the expression of his opinion. "A nervous seizure," he said.
Is it worth trying?" He answered, sharply enough: "I don't like it." The housekeeper opened the door again, and wished him good-by. If Mr. Rayburn had felt no more than an ordinary interest in Mrs. Zant, he would have let the woman go. "You promise to follow my directions?" she stipulated. He gave the promise. She smiled, nodded, and left him. True to his instructions, Mr.
He called at the house, and did his innocent best without in the least deceiving Mr. John Zant to make himself agreeable during the short duration of his visit. Descending the stairs on his way out, accompanied by Mrs. Zant, he was surprised to see a middle-aged woman in the hall, who looked as if she was waiting there expressly to attract notice. "The housekeeper," Mrs. Zant whispered.
But, suddenly, this indifferent performer, this rider who is, after all, but a poor amateur and not fit to appear with a company of trained artists, suddenly this Signor Martinelli comes to Monsieur van Zant to say that, if he will engage him, he has a rich friend one Señor Sperati, a Brazilian coffee planter who will 'back' the show with his money and buy a partnership in it.
Leaving Lucy under the care of her governess, he went at once to the address that had been written on the visiting-card left at the lodging-house, and sent in his name. A courteous message was returned. Mr. John Zant was at home, and would be happy to see him. MR. RAYBURN was shown into one of the private sitting-rooms of the hotel.
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