The Cup of Fury Part 61

"Sure! The _Clara_, he called her. I find where she goes to take cargo. I go myself. I row up behind the s.h.i.+p in little boat, and I fasten by the rudder-post under the water, where no one sees, a bomb.

It is all innocent till s.h.i.+p moves. Then every time the rudder turns a little screw turns in the machine.

"It turns for two, three days; then--_boom_! It makes explosion, tears s.h.i.+p to pieces, and down she goes. And so goes all the next s.h.i.+ps if you help again."

"Again? What do you mean by again?"

"It is you, Marie Louise, who sinks the _Clara_."

Her laugh of incredulity was hardly more than a s.h.i.+ver of dread.

"_Ja wohl!_ You did told Chake Nuttle vat Davidge tells you. Chake Nuttle tells me. I go and make sink the s.h.i.+p!"

"Jake Nuddle! It was Jake that told you!" Mamise faltered, seeing her first vague suspicions d.a.m.nably confirmed.

"Sure! Chake Nuttle is my _Leutnant_. He has had much money. He gets more. He shall be rich man after comes _Der Tag_. It might be we make him von Nuttle! and you shall be Grafin von Oesten."

Mamise was in an abject terror. The thick trees of the park were spooky as the dim light of the car elicited from the black wall of dark faint details of tree-trunks and naked boughs stark with winter.

She was in a hurry to learn the rest and be gone. She spoke with a poor imitation of pride:

"So I have already done something more for Germany. That's splendid.

Now tell me what else I can do, for I want to--to get busy right away."

Nicky was too intoxicated with his success to see through her thin disguise.

"You are close by Davidge. Chake Nuttle tells me he is sveet on you.

You have his confidence. You can learn what secrets he has. Next time we do not vait for s.h.i.+p to be launched and to go for cargo. It might go some place ve could not find.

"So now ve going blow up those s.h.i.+ps before they touch vater--ve blow up his whole yard. You shall go beck and take up again your vork, and ven all is right I come down and get a job. I dress like vorkman and get into the yard. And I bring in enough bombs to blow up all the s.h.i.+ps and the cranes and the machines.

"Chake Nuttle tells me Davidge just gets a plate-bending machine.

Forty-five t'ousand dollars it costs him, and long time to get. In one minute--poof! Ve bend that plate-bender!"

He laughed a great Teutonic laugh and supposed that she was laughing, too. When he had subsided a little, he said:

"So now you know vat you are to make! You like to do so much for Chermany, yes?"

"Oh yes! Yes!" said Mamise.

"You promise to do vat I send you vord?"

"Yes." She would have promised to blow up the Capitol.

"_Ach_, how beautiful you are even in the dark! Kiss me!"

Remembering Judith, she paid that odious price, wis.h.i.+ng that she might have the beast's infamous head with a sword. It was a kiss of betrayal, but she felt that it was no Judas-kiss, since Nicky was no Christ.

He told her more of his plans in detail, and was so childishly proud of his superb achievements, past and future, that she could hardly persuade him to take her back to the station. He a.s.sured her that there was abundant time, but she would not trust his watch. She explained how necessary it was for her to return to Was.h.i.+ngton and to Polly Widdicombe's house before midnight. And at last he yielded to her entreaties, opened the door, and leaned out to tell the driver to turn back.

Mamise was uneasy till they were out of the park and into the lighted streets again. But there was no safety here, for as they glided down Charles Street a taxicab going with the reckless velocity of taxicabs tried to cut across their path.

There was a swift fencing for the right of way, and then the two cars came together with a clash and much crumpling of fenders.

The drivers descended to wrangle over the blame, and Mamise had visions of a trip to the police station, with a consequent exposure.

But Nicky was alive to the danger of notoriety. He got out and a.s.sumed the blame, taking the other driver's part and offering to pay the damages.

The taxicab-driver a.s.sessed them liberally at fifty dollars, and Nicky filled his palm with bills, ordering his own driver to proceed. The car limped along with a twisted steering-gear, and Nicky growled thanksgivings over the narrow escape the German Empire had had from losing two of its most valuable agents.

Mamise was sick with terror of what might have been. She saw the collision with a fatal result, herself and Nicky killed and flung to the street, dead together. It was not the fear of dying that froze her soul; it was the posthumous blow she would have given to Davidge's trust in her and all women, the pain she would have inflicted on his love. For to his dying day he would have believed her false to him, a cheap and nasty trickster, sneaking off to another town to a rendezvous with another man. And that man a German!

The picture of his bitter disillusionment and of her own unmerited and eternal disgrace was intolerably real in spite of the fact that she knew it to be untrue, for our imaginations are far more ancient and more irresistible than our late and faltering reliance on the truth; the heavens and h.e.l.ls we fancy have more weight with our credulities than any facts we encounter. We can dodge the facts or close our eyes to them, but we cannot escape our dreams, whether our eyes are wide or sealed.

Mamise could not free herself of this nightmare till she had bidden Nicky good-by the last time and left him in the cab outside the station.

Further nightmares awaited her, for in the waiting-room she could not fight off the conviction that the train would never arrive. When it came clanging in on grinding wheels and she clambered aboard, she knew that it would be wrecked, and the finding of her body in the debris, or its disappearance in the flames, would break poor Davidge's heart and leave her to the same ignominy in his memory.

While the train swung on toward Was.h.i.+ngton, she added another torment to her collection: how could she save Davidge from Nicky without betraying her sister's husband into the hands of justice? What right had she to tell Davidge anything when her sacred duty to her family and her poor sister must first be heartlessly violated?

BOOK VII

AT THE s.h.i.+PYARD

[Ill.u.s.tration: n.o.body recognized the lily-like beauty of Miss Webling in the s.m.u.tty-faced pa.s.ser-boy crouching at Sutton's elbow.]

CHAPTER I

Mamise was astounded by the altered aspect of her own soul, for people can on occasion accomplish what the familiar Irish drillmaster invited his raw recruits to do--"Step out and take a look at yourselves."

Also, like the old lady of the nursery rhymes whose skirts were cut off while she slept, Mamise regarded herself with incredulity and exclaimed:

"Can this be I?"

If she had had a little dog at home, it would have barked at her in unrecognition and convinced her that she was not herself.

What astounded her was the realization that the problem of disregarding either her love or her duty was no longer a difficult problem. In London, when she had dimly suspected her benefactors, the Weblings, of betraying the trust that England put in them, she had abhorred the thought of mentioning her surmise to any one who might harm them.

Later, at the s.h.i.+pyard, when she had suspected her sister's husband of disloyalty, she had put away the thought of action because it would involve her sister's ruin. But now, as she left Baltimore, convinced that her sister's husband was in a plot against her lover and her country, she felt hardly so much as a brake on her eagerness for the sacrifice of her family or herself. The horror had come to be a solemn duty so important as to be almost pleasant. She was glad to have something at last to give up for her nation.

The thorough change in her desires was due to a complete change in her soul. She had gradually come to love the man whose prosperity was threatened by her sister's husband, and her vague patriotism had been stirred from dreams to delirium. Almost the whole world was undergoing such a war change. The altar of freedom so s.h.i.+ning white had recently become an altar of sacrifice splashed with the blood of its votaries. Men were offering themselves, casting from them all the old privileges of freedom, the hopes of success in love and business, and submitting to discipline, to tyranny, to vile hards.h.i.+ps. Wives and mothers were hurrying their men to the slaughter; those who had no men to give or men too weak for the trenches or unwilling to go were ashamed of themselves because they were missing from the beadroll of contributors.

Mamise had become fanatic with the rest. She had wished to build s.h.i.+ps, and had been refused more than a stenographer's share in the process. Next she had planned to go to the firing-line herself and offer what gift she had--the poor little gift of entertaining the soldiers with the vaudeville stunts she had lived down. And while she waited for a pa.s.sport to join the army of women in France, she found at hand an opportunity to do a big deed, to thwart the enemy, to save s.h.i.+ps and all the lives that s.h.i.+ps alone could save. The price would be the liberty and what little good name her sister's husband had; it would mean protests and tears from her poor sister, whom life had dealt with harshly enough already.

But Mamise counted the cost as nothing compared to what it would buy.

She dared not laugh aloud in the crowded chair-car, but her inner being was shaken with joy. She had learned to love Davidge and to adore that strange, shapeless idea that she called her country.

Instead of sacrificing her lover to her people, she could serve both by the same deed. She was wildly impatient for the moment when she could lay before Davidge the splendid information she had secured at the expense of a few negligible lies. If they should cost her a decade in purgatorial torments, she would feel that they were worth it.