CHAPTER XI

The house of mourning had suddenly become transformed into a house of

joy.

From the deepest abyss of hopeless despair Helen, during the next few

days, was raised to the highest pinnacle of human felicity. Kenneth

was safe, that was all she wanted to know. Whether he had succeeded or

not in saving the diamonds she did not know or care.

Nothing more had been heard from him. Cable dispatches reported the

_Zanzibar_ to be making good time on her way to Southampton, but, until

the steamer arrived there, no further details were to be expected.

Much, however, had been gleaned as to the fate of the _Abyssinia_, and,

as the accounts of disaster began to come in, she could only thank God

that he had succeeded in escaping such a fearful fate. The ship had

mysteriously caught fire the first day out from Cape Town, and, in the

excitement, the crew, as well as the passengers, lost their heads.

Only one boat could be lowered, and in this Kenneth got away, together

with François, his valet, and some other passengers. A news item in

connection with the affair, which was of particular interest to Helen,

ran as follows:

"The loss of the _Abyssinia_ brought to a tragic ending a remarkable

romance in which Mr. Kenneth Traynor, one of the rescued passengers and

a prominent New York broker, is one of the principal figures. Mr.

Traynor is one of two twins so identical in appearance that no one, not

even their own mother, knew them apart. One of the children

mysteriously disappeared when a mere child and was believed to be dead.

Mr. Kenneth Traynor went recently to South Africa on business, and on

the diamond fields found in starving condition an unlucky miner who was

a perfect counterpart of himself. It was his lost brother. Mutual

explanations followed and the identity was established. Overjoyed at

the reunion the two brothers sailed for home on the _Abyssinia_.

Suddenly came the alarm of fire. While the panic on board was at its

worst, the broker lost sight of his brother, whom he never saw again

and whom it is only too certain went down with the ship."

"It's almost unbelievable, isn't it?" exclaimed Helen, as she read the

paragraph for the hundredth time and handed it to Wilbur Steell, who

had dropped in to hear if there was any news.

Ray, who loved a mystery better than anything else in the world,

clapped her hands.

"Isn't it perfectly stunning?"

"Not for Kenneth's brother--poor fellow," said Helen reprovingly. "He

did not live long to enjoy his bettered condition."

"That's right. How thoughtless of me!" said Ray contritely.

As he finished reading Mr. Steell looked puzzled. Looking toward Helen

he asked:

"Did you know that your husband had a twin brother?"

"I only knew it recently--just before he sailed. He did not know it

himself."

"How did he find it out?"

"His old nurse told him. I was present."

"Did the nurse know the brother was in South Africa?"

"No--she had no idea of it. I'm sure of that. It's one of those

wonderful coincidences one some-times hears of."

The lawyer shook his head. Thoughtfully he said:

"It's certainly strange--one of the strangest things I ever heard of."

"Kenneth will be able to tell us more about it when he comes," said Ray.

"Yes--no doubt," asserted her sister quickly.

The lawyer remained thoughtful for a moment. Then, lightly he said:

"We ought to give Kenneth a rousing welcome home. After such

experiences as he has had he richly deserves it."

Eagerly Helen caught at the suggestion.

"By all means!" she cried. "Suppose we give a dinner, followed by a

dance."

"Oh, lovely!" said Ray.

"The night following his arrival," went on Helen enthusiastically.

"We'll make it quite an affair and invite everyone we know--the

Parkers, the Galloways, the Fentons, everybody----"

"Don't forget me!" interrupted Steell.

"Oh, you, of course!" Roguishly she added: "Aren't you one of the

family?"

He looked at her and smiled. In an undertone which Ray, too busy

looking at the paper, did not hear, he added:

"Not yet, but I hope to be."

"The sooner the better, Wilbur," she said earnestly. With a

significant glance at her sister she added, "Don't let her keep you

waiting too long."

Every hour brought nearer the happy day when they would see Kenneth

again. A cablegram from England reported that the _Zanzibar_ had

reached Southampton. Closely following this came a brief message from

Kenneth himself, stating that he was on the point of sailing for New

York on the _Adriatic_. In five more days he would be in New York.

Expectation now reached fever heat, the excitement being communicated

to everyone in the house. Every time the front door bell rang there

was a rush downstairs in the hope that it might be another message.

Ray, bubbling over with excitement, was almost as eager as her sister.

"Won't it be jolly to go down to the dock and meet him?"

Helen shook her head.

"I won't go to meet him. I prefer to be here when he arrives."

Anxiously she added: "I hope everything is all right."

"Why shouldn't it be all right?"

Her sister was silent. It seemed absurd, when everything seemed to

point to her happiness, that she should still feel depressed and

nervous, but, somehow, she could not shake off the feeling that

something was wrong. It was certainly strange that no letter had been

received from Kenneth since the accident. Yet perhaps it was wicked of

her to expect more. She ought to be grateful that he had been spared.

Almost unconsciously she remarked:

"Isn't it strange that Ken hasn't written for so long? I haven't had a

line from him since he left Cape Town."

"Yes--you have," protested her sister. "You had a cablegram telling

you of his safety."

"A cablegram--yes, but no letter. I have had no letter since he left

Cape Town."

"That's true. But how could he write? He has been traveling faster

than the mails."

"I hope he's not hurt."

"Of course not. You would have heard it before this. Bad news travels

fast."

Every moment from now on was devoted to getting the house ready for the

arrival of its lord and master. Ray had skilfully fashioned out of red

letters on white paper, a big "Welcome" sign, which was to be suspended

in the hall on the complacent horns of two gigantic moose heads,

souvenirs of a month's vacation in the Adirondacks. While this was

being done downstairs Helen busied herself in the library and bedroom,

getting ready the things for his comfort--his dressing-gown, his

slippers, his pipe. She detested pipes, as do most women, but she

could not refrain from giving this pipe a furtive kiss, as she laid it

lovingly on the table within easy reach of the arm-chair. The maids,

changed since he went away, were laboriously instructed in what they

should and should not do, what towels should be put in the luxurious

bathroom, what pajamas should be laid on the bed.

Well Helen remembered the first time she had entered this bedroom.

Just married, in the full flush of her new-found happiness, it had all

seemed so beautiful, so ideal. The dull pink color scheme, so chaste

and delicate, the gracefully carved furniture, so luxurious and

elegant, the cupids flying above the massive beautifully carved bed, a

veritable bower of love--all this seemed only a realization of her

girlhood dreams of what married life should be. And now Kenneth was

coming back, after his long absence in South Africa, it would be like

getting married all over again.

The next four days seemed longer than any Helen had ever spent in all

her life. The delay was interminable. The minutes appeared to be like

hours, the hours like days. Having to wait patiently for what one

desired so ardently was simply intolerable. She tried to divert her

mind by busying herself about the library, dusting his favorite books,

tidying his papers, but constantly came back the thoughts that filled

her with uneasiness, a vague, undefinable alarm. Was he all right?

At last the great day arrived. A Western Union telegram announced that

the _Adriatic_ would dock at 2 o'clock. Long before that time, Ray,

unable to restrain her impatience, was on her way down town,

accompanied by Mr. Steell, while Helen, her face a little paler than

usual, her heart beating a little faster, sat in the great recessed

window of the library, and waited for the arrival of the loved one.

Anxiously, impatiently, she watched the hands of the clock move round.

How exasperatingly slow it was: how indifferent it seemed to her

happiness! If the ship docked at two they could hardly arrive at the

house until four. It would take at least two hours to get through the

customs. Oh, would the moment never come when she would see his dear

face and clasp him in her arms?

It was nearly half past two when suddenly the front door bell rang.

Her heart leaping to her mouth, she rushed to the top of the stairs.

It was only Mr. Parker, who had dropped in on the chance of finding his

associate already arrived.

To-day the president of the Americo-African Mining Company was in the

highest spirits. Everything had gone according to his expectations.

Kenneth was home with the big diamonds safe in his possession. The

directors could not fail to give him (Parker) credit for his sagacity

and enterprise. The stocks of the company would soar above par.

Fortune was smiling on them in no uncertain way. Was it a wonder he

was feeling in the best of humors?

"How do you know the diamonds are safe?" questioned Helen anxiously.

"In such a terrible panic as there must have been on that ship a man

thinks only of saving himself."

"Pshaw!" replied the president confidently. "I'm as sure of it as that

I'm here. It was understood that he was never to part with the stones

under any circumstances. They are in a belt he wears round his waist

next to his skin. If the diamonds were not here, Kenneth would not be

here. Knowing he is safe I am convinced that they are safe."

"Will you wait here until he comes?"

"No, I can't. There's a meeting of the directors this afternoon. I

must attend. I'll call him up on the telephone----"

"But you are coming to dinner this evening----"

"Yes, yes, of course." With a smile he added: "Now, don't get too

spoony when he comes, or else Ken will have no head for business."

"No fear," laughed Helen. "We are too long married for that."

"Well, good-bye. I'll see you later."

The president took his hat and turned to go. As he reached the door he

turned round.

"By the bye, have you seen Signor Keralio lately?"

Helen's face grew more serious.

"No--Signor Keralio does not call here any more-at my request."

The president gave a low, expressive whistle. Holding out his hand he

said:

"Got his walking papers, eh? Well, I guess if you don't like him he

isn't much good. I never did care for the look of him."

"Why did you ask?" she inquired.

"I was just curious--that's all. He's a persistent, uncomfortable kind

of man. I don't like his face. It's a face I wouldn't trust----"

"That's why he's not coming here any more," she replied calmly. "He

forgot himself and that was the end----"

The president turned to go.

"Well, good-bye. Ken will be here soon."

"Good-bye."

He went away, and once more Helen resumed her lonely vigil at the

library window, straining her ears to catch the direction of every

passing car, catching her breath with suspense as each pedestrian came

into view. They could not be much longer. She wondered if he had

missed her as much as she had him. No, men do not feel these things in

the way women do. They are too busy--their minds too much preoccupied

with their work. The turmoil of affairs absorbed their attention.

The clock struck the three-quarters, and the reverberations of the

chimes had not entirely died away, when through the partly opened

window came the sound of a taxicab suddenly stopping in front of the

door.

At last he had come! It was surely Kenneth. Her bosom heaving with

suppressed excitement she ran to the stairs and was already in the

lower hall before the maid had answered the bell. Quickly she threw

open the door, eager to throw herself in the traveler's arms. A tall

shadow darkened the doorway. It was François, the French valet.

Helen fell back in dismay.

"Oh, it's you!" she exclaimed, looking over his shoulder to see if

Kenneth were following. "Where is your master?"

A curious expression, half-defiant, half-cunning, came over the

servant's face, as he replied:

"Monsieur coming. He sent me ahead with light baggage. He detained at

customs."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, disappointed. "When will he be here?"

"He come presently--perhaps quarter of an hour."

"How is your master?"

"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, shifting 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

assure 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 ship 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 assure 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 _épouvantable_, 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 assure 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

ship 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 passionately. 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! God 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 François, 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 glasses. 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 glasses, 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 François. 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.