The Last Woman Part 9

"Look here, Mr. Duncan, you know perfectly well that I am your friend, and that I'll use you as handsomely as possible in the columns of any paper that gets this story. But I've got the straight tip, and I know what I am talking about. I thought, possibly, you might wish to say a few words in explanation--just to tone the thing down, to give it the mark of authenticity, you know. I thought you'd like to be quoted, and to know, from me, that the story'll be all right. On the level, now, isn't that better?"

Duncan laughed. He did not in the least understand. He had the idea that Radnor had been drinking.

"Burke," he said; "upon my life, this is the first time I ever saw you when you had taken too much to drink."

"Is that the way you are going to reply to me?" asked Radnor, with all the insistence of a thoroughly trained newspaper man. "You'd best use me right, you know. It's a great 'beat,' and I want all of it. I'd like to talk with the bride, too, if you can fix--"

"But I don't know what the blazes you are talking about, man."

"I am talking about the little ceremony that took place this evening at the Little Church Around the Corner, and was indulged in between you and the former Miss Brunswick; as a sort of _entr'acte_ to the opera of Salome," said Radnor, with slow distinctness.

Duncan stiffened where he stood. The smile left his face, and his eyes narrowed, while his clean-cut features seemed to harden in every line of them.

"Radnor," he said with a slow drawl, which to those who knew him best betrayed intense anger, "you will be good enough to explain to me, here and now, in plain English and in as few words as possible, exactly what you mean."

"I mean," was the ready retort, "that you and Miss Beatrice Brunswick were married to-night at the Little Church Around the Corner, between two of the acts of Salome. I mean that I've got the straight tip, and I know it to be true. I wish to quote you, if possible, in what I shall write about it for the morning papers. I'd like to get a statement from the bride, too."

"Are you crazy, Radnor?" asked Duncan, bending forward, his face white and set, and his eyes hard and cold; for Roderick Duncan, with all his apparent quietude, was a man whom it was not safe to try too far.

"No, I'm not crazy. I'm just telling you what's what. I'll get the whole story, and what's more, I'll print it in the morning papers! If you wish to say anything in explanation of the incident, I shall be glad to quote you; but, otherwise, I shall take the liberty of drawing my own inferences, and a.s.suming my own conclusions, from the story I have heard. I tell you, Mr. Duncan, I've got it straight, and I know it to be true."

"It is not true," said Duncan, quietly. "The person who told you such a story as that lied."

Radnor shrugged his shoulders, and laughed, ironically.

"I don't know that I blame you for denying it," he said, "but I happen to know differently. If you choose to deny it, I'll send my card inside to Mrs. Duncan, and we'll see, then, what we shall see. You can't bluff me, Mr. Duncan. I'm not that sort. If you won't talk, perhaps the former Miss Brunswick, will, and--"

Radnor got no further than that. Duncan's rage, the moment he understood the situation and fully realized the possible consequences of it in the hands of this ubiquitous newspaper man, overcame him, utterly. His right arm shot out with terrific force, his clenched fist caught Radnor squarely on the point of the chin, and the latter was knocked half-senseless to the floor. Waiters, and attendants about the place rushed toward them; but Duncan slowly drew a handkerchief from one of his pockets, and, calmly wiping his hands upon it, said to the manager:

"Kick the dog into the street; that is what he deserves. He probably followed me when I came away from the opera-house, and now he is trying to make capital out of a meaningless incident. Put him out, and don't permit him to pa.s.s the door again to-night; otherwise, he will seek to annoy a lady who is here."

Then, he turned calmly about, and, although his features were still pale, reentered the dining-room as if nothing had happened. Duncan confidently believed that he had correctly estimated the cause of Radnor's quest for news. It never occurred to him that Beatrice Brunswick was herself, through the agency of Jack Gardner, the cause of it.

CHAPTER VI

A REMARKABLE MEETING

When Jack Gardner returned to the dining-room after his interview with Radnor, he was vaguely troubled, notwithstanding the fact that he was also highly amused. There were elements a.s.sociated with the thing he had just done that might stir up unpleasant consequences. His inordinate love for a practical joke had led him into it willingly, and he had thought he saw in this affair the best and greatest joke he had ever attempted to perpetrate. But he began to understand that there was a tragic element to it which he could not deny to himself; and, when he was in the act of resuming his chair beside Beatrice, he was more than half-inclined, even then, to rush from the building in the pursuit of Burke Radnor, and to withdraw the whole story that he had given to the newspaper man.

When, a few moments later, Radnor's card was brought to Duncan, the sense of impending disaster was stronger than ever upon Gardner, and he watched the departure of the young millionaire with many misgivings, not one of which he could have defined in words. But he watched the doorway through which Duncan pa.s.sed, and, during the interval that ensued, he was very palpably disturbed and uneasy. He had recognized the card, although he had been unable to see the name that was engraved upon it. He had not supposed that Radnor would so quickly pursue his investigation of the story, and it had not even remotely occurred to the young copper-king, that the newspaper man would dare to go so far as to seek an immediate interview with Duncan.

Even had the man selected Beatrice, it would not have been quite so bad.

n.o.body knew Duncan better than did Jack Gardner, and he realized what a strong and stirring effect this fake-story, as made up between himself and Beatrice, might have upon one who was such a stickler for certain forms as he knew Duncan to be. His impulse was to follow his friend from the room, but he resisted it, although he did keep his gaze spasmodically fixed upon the door by which Roderick must reenter the dining-room.

Gardner was the first of the party to discover him, when he did return, and was quick to see that something unusual had happened during the interval outside, which had been all too short to have been fruitful of any other result than violence of some sort. He saw, by the set expression of his friend's face and by the pallor upon it, that something had gone wrong, and he started to his feet and moved rapidly forward, so that he met Duncan half-way between the entrance and the table where Beatrice and Sally Gardner were now left alone together. He grasped his friend by the arm, and drew him aside, saying rapidly, as he did so:

"For G.o.d's sake, Dun, what has happened? Tell me quickly."

Roderick Duncan looked down calmly, and without change of expression upon Gardner, for he was considerably taller than his friend; and he said, slowly, in reply:

"Without answering your question, Jack, I wish to ask you one. Was it Burke Radnor whom you were called out to meet, a little while ago, in the reception-room?"

Not thinking of the possible consequences of his response, Gardner admitted, hastily, that it had been Radnor, and Duncan asked another question.

"Did Radnor question you about a marriage-ceremony that is supposed to have taken place between Beatrice Brunswick and myself, to-night?"

"Well, you see--"

"Answer me yes, or no, Jack, if you please."

"Well, then, he did."

"Have you any idea, Jack, where he obtained the nucleus for such a story?"

Gardner hesitated, and Duncan from his greater height, bent forward quickly, and with a strong grip, seized the young copper-king by the shoulder.

"Jack Gardner," he demanded, "did you, at the instigation of Beatrice, concoct that story? Have I you to thank for it? You need not answer, Jack. I can read the reply in the expression of your face." He withdrew his hand from its detaining grasp upon his friend, and took a half-step backward; then, he added: "Jack, if we were anywhere else than in a public dining-room, I should resent what you have done bitterly--and by actions, not words. As it is, I demand that you instantly seek, and find, Burke Radnor, and retract whatever you have said, or inferred, during your conversation with him. I warn you, Gardner, that if one single line appears in any of the papers to-morrow morning on this subject I'll find a way to resent it, which will make you regret, all your life, your nameless conduct of to-night."

Gardner turned decidedly pale, not because of any physical fear he felt of Duncan, but in dread of the possible consequences of what he had permitted himself to do.

"Where is Radnor, now?" he exclaimed, quickly.

"I left him half-conscious, on the floor of the reception-room,"

replied Duncan, calmly. "I knocked him down."

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed Gardner; and he turned and rushed away with precipitate haste.

Duncan went on toward the table at which Beatrice and Sally were seated, but as he approached it, a desire to hear the sound of Patricia's voice possessed him, and he turned abruptly toward that other table, occupied by Stephen Langdon, with his daughter and the lawyer.

Devoting a careless nod to the two men, Duncan addressed his fiancee, speaking loudly enough so that her companions might hear.

"Patricia," he said, "will you do me a very great favor? It is of vital importance, otherwise I would not ask it."

"Indeed?" she replied, raising her big, dark eyes to his. "Your question and your manner as well imply something that is almost tragic, Roderick. What is it that you wish me to do?"

"A very little thing, Patricia. Will you, for a moment, accompany me to the table where Beatrice and Sally Gardner are dining?"

"Why, most certainly," she replied. "You give a very big reason for a very small thing, don't you? Of course, I will go to them." She left her seat instantly, and crossed to the other table; Duncan followed, closely. Patricia accepted the chair that Jack Gardner had occupied, which Duncan drew out for her. Then, he resumed his own. As soon as they were seated, the young millionaire, drawing his chair a bit closer, said, addressing them, generally:

"I have something to say which I wish each of you to hear. To-night, a rumor has been started, somehow, that Miss Brunswick and I were married an hour or so ago, at the Church of the Transfiguration."

Patricia gave a slight start, but he continued, unheedingly: "A certain newspaper man, Radnor by name, has already sought to interview me, and he went so far as to insist that he was positive in his a.s.sertions as to such a ceremony having taken place. Of course, Beatrice and I both know it to be untrue, and I now make this statement in order to warn you all of what may possibly appear in the morning papers; that is all I have to say on the subject."

Beatrice had flushed hotly at the beginning of his statement, and, while he continued, she turned deadly pale. Sally, who it will be remembered had not been taken into the confidence of the intriguers, laughed. Patricia was the only one who appeared to be unmoved by the announcement, but she kept her eyes fixed upon the face of her friend, and she correctly interpreted the changing colors and expressions of Beatrice Brunswick's face.

Whatever might have been the consequences of Duncan's announcement and Miss Brunswick's emotions, her conscious blushes and subsequent pallor, it was interrupted by the sudden and swift return of Gardner, who exclaimed, excitedly: