The Mask Part 26

"He very well, except his eyes--they bother him a leetle."

Helen stared at him in alarm.

"His eyes," she exclaimed. "What is the matter with his eyes?"

The valet avoided her direct gaze, and, s.h.i.+fting uneasily on his feet, began to fuss with the leather bags he was carrying. Awkwardly he said:

"Didn't madame hear?"

"Hear what?" she gasped, now thoroughly alarmed.

The man put out his hand deprecatingly.

"Oh, it's nothing to make madame afraid. It will soon be all right. I a.s.sure madame----"

"But tell me what it is, will you?" she interrupted impatiently.

"Don't have so much to say--tell me what it is----"

"It was when the s.h.i.+p caught fire, madame. We were running to ze life-boat, monsieur and me, when suddenly----"

"Well--what?" she almost shouted, in agony of suspense.

"Monsieur tripped over a coil of rope and fell----"

Almost unconscious in her excitement of what she was doing Helen laid her hand on the man's arm. Terror-stricken she cried:

"He didn't hurt himself seriously, did he?"

The valet shook his head.

"No, madame--not seriously. He struck his head against a chair and just graze ze eye. It is nothing serious, I a.s.sure madame. The doctor says that if he wears blue spectacles for few months he will be all right."

"Oh, he wears blue spectacles, does he?"

"Yes, madame, he must. Ze eye is inflamed and cannot stand ze strong light."

"Poor Kenneth!" she murmured, half-aloud. "I shall hardly know him in blue spectacles."

The valet, who had been watching her like a hawk out of his half-closed, sleepy-looking eyes, overheard the remark. Quickly he said:

"Of course, madame must expect to find monsieur a little changed. What we went through was _epouvantable_, something awful. We just escaped with our lives. For days monsieur was so nervous he was hardly able to speak a word. Even now he stops at times----"

Helen looked at him in wonder.

"'He stops!' What do you mean?"

The valet turned away, and for a moment was silent. Then, as if making a great effort, he turned and said:

"Madame will pardon me, but she must be brave and not show monsieur she notices any change. Ze doctor said it was a terrible shock to his nervous system--that fire. Monsieur has not been ze same since, _pas du tout_ ze same. Ze doctor he says that these symptoms will all disappear once he gets home and has a good rest. It is only ze shock, I a.s.sure madame."

Helen listened appalled, her face growing whiter each moment, her lips trembling. He had met with an accident, then, after all! Her instinct had spoken truly. Her darling was ill. That explained his long silence. He had been too ill to write. He had gone through a terrible shock and he had come home ill, very ill, quite changed. Her voice faltering she said:

"What are the symptoms?"

"Monsieur's memory is so bad, madame. He forgets. Only to-day, as ze s.h.i.+p came up ze harbor, I ask monsieur if he expect madame to meet us at ze dock. _C'est vraiment incroyable_! He turned to me, with a look of ze greatest surprise, and asked: 'Who ze devil is madame?'"

"What! Didn't he seem to remember me, even?" A look of distress came over her face.

The valet shook his head.

"Non, madame." Quickly he added: "But it is nothing. It is only temporary."

"Didn't he know my sister and Mr. Steell? Didn't they greet him at the dock?"

"Yes, madame. They spoke to him and he spoke to them. But he was not himself. They seemed surprised. They will tell madame."

Helen fell back, sick and faint. Why had she not known this before?

She would have gone down to meet him, thrown herself weeping into his arms. He would have known her then--who better than he would recognize that perfume he loved so well? He would have taken her in his strong arms and kissed her pa.s.sionately. If he was not himself it was because he was ill. The shock had affected his memory! Poor darling husband, he must be well nursed. A few days of her devoted care and he would be all right again. Of course, it was nothing serious. Kenneth had led too clean and wholesome a life for anything grave to be the matter. If only he would come! G.o.d grant that he return to her as he went away!

As the unspoken prayer died away on her lips, there was the chugging of an automobile stopping suddenly at the curb.

"_Les voici_!" cried Francois, dropping into his native tongue in his excitement.

He threw open the wide doors and the next instant Ray ran up the steps.

Helen, weak and dizzy from nervous tension, feeling as if she were about to faint, met her on the threshold.

"Kenneth!" she gasped. "Is he all right?"

"Certainly--he's fine. He's a little tired and nervous after the long journey, and the blue spectacles he wears make him look different, but he's all right."

The wife looked searchingly, eagerly at the young girl's face, as if seeking to read there what she dreaded to ask, and it seemed to her that the customary ring of sincerity was lacking in her sister's voice.

"Where is he--why isn't he with you?'

"Here he is now--don't you see him?"

Helen looked out. There came the tall, familiar figure she knew so well, the square shoulders, the thick bushy hair, with its single white lock so strangely isolated among the brown. Her heart fell as she saw the blue gla.s.ses. They veiled from her view those dear blue eyes, so kind and true. They made him look different. But what did she care as long as he had come home to her? Even with the horrid gla.s.ses, that dear form she would know in a thousand!

Slowly he came up the long flight of stone steps, weighted down by traveling rugs and handbag, both of which he refused to surrender to the obsequious Francois. Eagerly she rushed down the steps to meet him, her eyes half-closed, ready to swoon from excitement and joy.

Nothing was said. He opened his arms. She put up her mouth, tenderly, submissively. For a moment he seemed to hesitate. He held her tight in his embrace, and just looked down at her. Then, as he felt the warmth of her soft, yielding body next to his, and saw the partly opened mouth, ready to receive his kiss, he bent down and fastened his lips on hers.

CHAPTER XII

For one blissful, ecstatic moment Helen lay tight in his embrace, nestling against the breast of the one being she loved better than anyone else in the world, responding with involuntary vibrations of her own body to the gust of fiery pa.s.sion that swept his. But only for a moment. The next instant she had torn herself violently free, and was gazing, wonderingly, fearfully, up into his face, trying to penetrate those gla.s.ses which veiled, as it were, the windows of his soul. Why she broke away so abruptly from his embrace she could not herself have explained. Something within her, some instinct to which her reason was unable to give a name, made her body revolt against the unusual ardor of the caress. Strange! Never before had she felt so embarra.s.sed at Kenneth's demonstrations of affection.