Ashton Kirk, Secret Agent Part 39

"As different as the sun from the stars," declared he. "The mastery of his art has been to him given. Every one knows him by sight; every one knows him for what he is. And yet he works in such a way that his hand is not noticed until it has closed," here he pantomimed expansively, "and what he has been seeking is in its grasp."

The dance music came to them in swaying, stirring strains; the low laughter and sound of gliding feet came with it.

"Madame Von Steinmetz," spoke Mrs. Pendleton, after a few moments, "is a remarkably expressive woman."

The eyes of the little German went to the lady who was conversing with Stella Corbin. His shoulders shrugged and his hands opened wide.

"It is her race," he said. "The French are mostly so. There is her husband, now," and his gaze singled out the man with the pointed blond beard; "he is German, and has little of the characteristics which mark her."

"How long have they been married?" asked Mrs. Pendleton.

"About ten years, I believe."

"So long as that!" She seemed greatly surprised. "I thought that men did not remain in love with their wives for so great a length of time. And yet he is much in love with her. See, he can't keep his eyes from her."

Colonel Stelzner's little round body shook as probably it had never shaken before. He chuckled and gasped; the tears stood in his eyes.

"Oh, you ladies!" he said at last. "Oh, you ladies, you see everything!

Nothing escapes you." Again he shook and chuckled and gasped. But finally he recovered, wiped his eyes and went on: "Ah, yes, I suppose Von Steinmetz is desperately in love with madame. And why not? She is charming."

"Who is that with Von Steinmetz?" she asked.

"That? Oh," and the round little colonel nodded his head knowingly, "that is Hoffer."

Her eyes lingered upon the large-jowled man for a moment. She had heard of him.

"I trust," she smiled, "that Herr Hoffer is not also in love with Madame Von Steinmetz."

Stelzner chuckled.

"It is not possible that you think he might be," he protested.

"Well, he seems inclined to pay her as much attention as her husband.

His eyes never move from her."

"Oh," gasped Colonel Stelzner, "you will be the death of me, Mrs.

Pendleton; you really will!" And when he had recovered from the fit of laughter into which her observation had thrown him, he added: "But consider, Madame von Steinmetz is not alone. Could it not be possible that Hoffer is interested in the English girl?"

Her fine eyes were fixed directly upon his face, as she said:

"Ah, that is it."

There was something in her tone which drove the laugh from his face; he answered soberly enough.

"I ask if it were not possible; that is all."

People who talk too much upon subjects regarding which it is best that they be silent often get glimpses of their weakness. And Colonel Stelzner had such a flash of inner vision just then. And while he was, more or less dismayed, thinking it over, Mrs. Pendleton discovered Matsadi and Okiu at the head of the staircase.

The interest which they displayed in the two women immediately attracted her; and once more she turned to the little colonel.

"The two j.a.panese now, which of the ladies attracts them--the English or the French?"

The usually rosy face of Stelzner was rather gray as he replied, and the chuckle so habitual to him had given place to a wan smile.

"The j.a.panese?" said he. "Oh, yes, those two up there, of course. I have found," with the air of a man speaking more or less at random, "that the Occidental types of women interest Orientals. Oh, yes; it is much so. I have known j.a.panese to admire---- Ah, Hoffer, how do you do?"

The heavy man, accompanied by Von Steinmetz, was moving by, and Stelzner grasped at their pa.s.sing as a s.h.i.+pwrecked seaman might grasp at a spar.

Reluctantly, so it seemed, the two men paused; and the beautiful Mrs.

Pendleton smiled as she bent her head to the salutation of Von Steinmetz.

"Your wife," she said, "is lovely to-night. We have just been admiring her."

The husband seemed none too pleased at this; he fingered his short, light-colored beard and his small blue eyes went to the lady in question.

"It occurred to me also," he said, "that she looked well. But then," and he smiled a little, "I think she usually looks so."

"You are a good husband," and Mrs. Pendleton laughed lightly. "Madame should be proud of you. But," and she arched her brows in wonder, "what an exceedingly interesting girl Miss Corbin must be. See how she holds madame's attention! Even the slightest gesture seems loaded with meaning."

The slim fingers of Von Steinmetz tugged at the pointed beard; Hoffer turned his head with his peculiarly slow motion toward the speaker and his eyes searched her face. But there was nothing there but smiles and bright looks and admiration for what she apparently considered a marked talent.

That Madame Von Steinmetz seemed greatly interested in what Stella Corbin said was plain enough; her eloquent hands were still; her eyes had ceased their byplay and centered themselves upon the girl's face.

This latter was even paler than usual, and her face seemed a trifle set; her att.i.tude was one that told of suppressed excitement.

In a throaty German which was sharply distressing, Hoffer began relating a heavy anecdote. Both Von Steinmetz and Stelzner gave it much attention, but Mrs. Pendleton, while she listened, never took her eyes from Stella Corbin and her companion.

For the girl had ceased speaking and leaned back in her chair as though exhausted; Madame Von Steinmetz, her vivacious countenance illumined, was carefully outlining something for the girl's benefit. Hoffer finished the anecdote and his two friends laughed eagerly; Mrs.

Pendleton smiled and nodded her appreciation though it is doubtful if she had heard much of it. To Von Steinmetz she said:

"How wonderfully expressive your wife's manner is! See, it is almost as if we could hear what she is saying!"

That Von Steinmetz would have vastly preferred his lady's manner to have been less wonderful was evident; his blue eyes were cold with disapproval; the pointed beard was twisted and tugged painfully.

And while she was manifesting this interest in Miss Corbin and the French woman, Mrs. Pendleton did not altogether lose sight of Ashton-Kirk. She noted that, in a few minutes, he drew away from the group of which her husband made one; and also she noted that his eyes, though they did not seem to do so, never lost a movement made by Stella Corbin.

The two j.a.panese, as though they had caught sight of some one or something upon the lower floor, had suddenly arisen and descended the staircase.

"The Senora Maselli," murmured Mrs. Pendleton, as she saw Matsadi speak to a beautiful, dark-eyed woman, evidently an Italian. "He is asking her to sing."

And that Senora Maselli was willing to do so was apparent; for she took Matsadi's arm and they crossed to a room, the door of which was only a few feet from where Miss Corbin and Madame Von Steinmetz sat. Okiu, however, remained behind; and as Matsadi was pa.s.sing through the door, he turned to look over his shoulder toward his countryman which, to a close observer, seemed full of significance.

Madame Von Steinmetz still talked, eagerly, with her hands, eyes and tongue. It were as though, as Mrs. Pendleton thought, the English girl had pictured some dilemma in which she stood and the French woman was pointing the way out. More than once Miss Corbin's hands had gone toward the bag which hung from her arm; but each time they left it unopened, as though she were not altogether persuaded.

"But," Mrs. Pendleton told herself with conviction, "she will do it in the end. When one is anxious to take advice, one usually does so."

The dance music had stopped some little time before; now came the notes of a piano, almost immediately followed by the rush and ring of a human voice. Heads were turned, laughter stopped, voices ceased. Then there was a stir.

"It is Maselli," ran the whisper.

A movement began toward the room from which the singing proceeded. In a moment Mrs. Pendleton's view of Stella Corbin was cut off by the eager and somewhat undignified scamper; through the press she saw the sleek, black head of Okiu and, at no great distance, caught a glimpse of Ashton-Kirk.