In the Quarter. Chambers Robert William
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students from the Ecole Polytechnique; students from the Lycée St Louis in blue and red; students from Julien's and the Beaux Arts with a plentiful sprinkling of berets and corduroy jackets; and group after group of jingling artillery officers in scarlet and black, or hussars and chasseurs in pale turquoise, strolled and idled up and down the terrace, or watched the toy yachts braving the furies of the great fountain.
Over by the playgrounds, the Polichinel nuisance drummed and squeaked to an appreciative audience of tender years. The ``Jeu de paume'' was also in full swing, a truly exasperating spectacle for a modern tennis player.
The old man who feeds the sparrows in the afternoon, and beats his wife at night, was intent on the former cheerful occupation, and smiled benevolently upon the little children who watched him, open mouthed. The numerous waterfowl – mallard, teal, red-head, and dusky – waddled and dived and fought the big mouse-colored pigeons for a share of the sparrow's crumbs.
A depraved and mongrel pointer, who had tugged at his chain in a wild endeavor to point the whole heterogeneous mass of feathered creatures from sparrow to swan, lost his head and howled dismally until dragged off by the lean-legged student who was attached to the other end of the chain.
Gethryn, sprawling on a bench in the sunshine, turned up his nose. Braith grunted scornfully.
A man passed in the crowd, stopped, stared, and then hastily advanced toward Gethryn.
``You?'' said Rex, smiling and shaking hands. ``Mr Clifford, this is Mr Bulfinch; Mr Braith,'' – but Mr Bulfinch was already bowing to Braith and offering his hand, though with a curious diminution of his first beaming cordiality. Braith's constraint was even more marked. He had turned quite white. Bulfinch and Gethryn, who had risen to receive him, remained standing side by side, stranded on the shoals of an awkward situation. The little Mirror man made a grab at a topic which he thought would float them off, and laid hold instead on one which upset them altogether.
``I hope Mrs Braith is well. She met you all right at Vienna?''
Braith bowed stiffly, without answering.
Rex gave him a quick look, and turning on his heel, said carelessly:
``I see you and Mr Braith are old acquaintances, so I won't scruple to leave you with him for a moment. Bring Mr Bulfinch over to the music stand, Braith.'' And smiling, as if he were assisting at a charming reunion, he led Clifford away. The latter turned, as he departed, an eye of delighted intelligence upon Braith.
To renew his acquaintance with Mr Bulfinch was the last thing Braith desired, but since the meeting had been thrust upon him he thanked Gethryn's tact for removing such a witness of it as Clifford would have been. He had no intention, however, of talking with the little Mirror man, and maintained a profound silence, smoking steadily. This conduct so irritated the other that he determined to force an explanation of the matter which seemed so distasteful to his ungracious companion. He certainly thought he had his own reasons for resenting the sight of Braith upon a high horse, and he resumed the conversation with all the jaunty ease which the calling of newspaper correspondent is said to cultivate.
``I hope Mrs Braith found no difficulty in meeting you in Vienna?''
``Madame was not my wife, and we did not meet in Vienna,'' said Braith shortly.
Bulfinch began to stare, and to feel a little less at ease.
``She told me – that is, her courier came to me and – ''
``Her courier? Mr Bulfinch, will you please explain what you are talking about?'' Braith turned square around and looked at him in a way that caused a still further diminution of his jauntiness and a proportionate increase of respect.
``Oh – I'll explain, if I know what you want explained. We were at Brindisi, were we not?''
``Yes.''
``On our way to Cairo?''
``Yes.''
``In the same hotel?''
``Yes.''
``But I had no acquaintance with madame, and had only exchanged a word or two with you, when you were suddenly summoned to Paris by a telegram.''
Braith bowed. He remembered well the false dispatch that had drawn him out of the way.
``Well, and when you left you told her you would be obliged to give up going to Cairo, and asked her to meet you in Vienna, whither you would have to go from Paris?''
``Oh, did I?''
``And you recommended a courier to her whom you knew very well, and in whom you had great confidence.''
``Ah! And what was that courier's name?''
``Emanuel Pick. I wasn't fond of Emanuel myself,'' with a sharp glance at Braith's eyes, ``but I supposed you knew something in his favor, or you would not have left – er – the lady in his charge.''
Braith was silent.
``I understood him to be your agent,'' said the little man, cautiously.
``He was not.''
``Oh!''
A long silence followed, during which Mr Bulfinch sought and found an explanation of several things. After a while he said musingly:
``I should like to meet Mr Pick again.''
``Why should you want to meet him?''
``I wish to wring his nose two hundred times, one for each franc I lent him.''
``How was that?'' said Braith, absently.
``It was this way. He came to me and told me what I have repeated to you, and that you desired madame to go on at once and wait for you in Vienna, which you expected to reach in a few days after her arrival. That you had bought tickets – one first class for madame, two second class for him and for her maid – before you left, and had told her you had placed plenty of money for the other expenses in her dressing case. But this morning, on looking for the money, none could be found. Madame was sure it had not been stolen. She thought you must have meant to put it there, and forgotten afterwards. If she only had a few francs, just to last as far as Naples! Madame was well known to the bankers on the Santa Lucia there! etc. Well, I'm not such an ass that I didn't first see madame and get her to confirm his statement. But when she did confirm it, with such a charming laugh – she was very pretty – I thought she was a lady and your wife – ''
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