The Avalanche by Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton (a court of thorns and roses ebook free .TXT) 📕

Years Before She Left. Can't You Think Of Any

Marie Who Was Married To A Jim--In--In That Class Of Life?"

 

"I Was Pretty Much Of A Kid Fifteen Years Ago, But I Can Recall Quite A

Few Maries And Even More Jims. But The Jims Were Much Too Wary To Marry

The Maries. Try It Again, Partner. Let Us Approach From Another Angle.

What Did Your Marie Look Like?"

 

"She Must Have Been Tall--Uncommonly Tall--With Black Hair And Small

Features; Black Eyes That Must Have Been Large At That Time.

I--I--Believe She Had A Very Fine Figure."

 

"What Nationality?"

 

"French."

 

The Detective Recrossed His Legs. "French. Oh, Lord! The Town Was Fairly

Overrun With Them. Made You Think There Was Nothing In All This Talk

About Gay Paree. All The Ladybirds Seemed To Have Taken Refuge Here. You

Have No Idea Of Her Last Name!"

 

"It Might Have Been Perrin."

 

"Never. Not After She Got Here And Set Up In Business. More Likely

Lestrange Or Delacourt--"

 

"Was There A Delacourt?"

 

"Not That I Remember. I Don't See Light Anywhere. Of Course It Won't Take

Me Twenty-Four Hours To Get Hold Of The History And Appearance Of Every

Queen Who Was Named Marie Fifteen Years Ago, And Your Description Helps A

Lot. Records Were Burned, But Some Of The Older Men On The Force Are

Walking Archives. For The Matter Of That You Might Draw Out Some Old

Codger In Your Club And Get As Much As I Can Give You--"

 

"Rather Not! I Think I'll Have To Give You My Confidence."

 

"Much The Shortest And Straightest Route. Just Fancy You're Takin' A

Nasty Dose Of Medicine For The Good Of Your Health. I Guess This Is A

Case Where I Can't Work In The Dark."

 

"Have You Ever Noticed An Elderly Woman, Seated In The Court Of The

Palace Hotel--Immensely Stout?"

 

"I Should Say I Had. One Of The Sights Of S.F. Why--Of Course--She's Your

Mother-In-Law!"

 

"Has There Been Any Talk About Her!"

 

"Some Comment On Her Size. And Her Childlike Delight In Watchin'

The Show."

 

"Nothing Else? No One Has Claimed To Recognize Her?"

 

Spaulding Sat Up Straight, His Nose Pointing. "Recognize Her? What

D'you Mean?"

 

"I Mean That I Overheard A Conversation--One-Sided--To-Day On The

California Street Dummy, In Which Bisbee Accused Madame Delano

Practically Of What I Have Told You. At Least That Is The Way I

Interpreted It. He Called Her Marie, Alluded In An Unmistakable Manner To

A Disgraceful Past In Which He Had Known Her Intimately, And Was

Confident That He Recognized Her In Spite Of Her Flesh And White Hair. I

Am Positive That She Recognized Him, Although She Was Clever Enough Not

To Reply."

 

"Jimminy! The Plot Thickens. That Scoundrel Never Forgot A Face In His

Life. I Don't Train With Him--Not By A Long Sight--So If There's Been Any

Talk In His Bunch, I Naturally Wouldn't Have Heard It. You Say Her Name

Is Marie Now?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And Perrin Is Her Real Name?"

 

"She Comes Of A Well-Known Family Of Rouen Of That Name. She Lived There

With Her Child For At Least Thirteen Years Before Her Return To

California. Of That I Am Certain. Her Daughter Is Now Twenty. I Wish To

Know Where She Kept That Child During The First Five Years Of Its Life. I

Have Reason To Think It Was In The Ursuline Convent At St. Peter."

 

"That's Easy Settled. And You Think The Father's First Name Was Jim?"

 

"She Told Me That His Name Was James Delano. Also That He Died Within The

First Year Of Their Marriage, When The Child Was Two Months Old, During

The Voyage To Japan. That May Be, But I Can See No Reason For Her

Returning Here Unless He Died More Recently And The Settlement Of His

Estate Demanded Her Presence."

 

"Pretty Good Reasoning, Particularly If You Are Sure She Stayed Here

Until The Child Was Five. Some Of Them Have Pretty Decent Instincts. She

May Have Made Up Her Mind To Give The Kid A Chance, And Returned To Her

Relations. Of Course We Must Assume That They Knew Nothing Of Her Life."

 

"I Am Positive They Did Not. But There Had Been Some Sort Of

Estrangement. I Have Been Given To Understand That It Was Because She

Married An American. Of Course She May Not Have Written To Them At All

For Six Or Seven Years. Her Story Is That She Was Visiting Other

Relatives In A Place Called Holbrook Centre, Vermont, And Met This Man

And Married Him. Then That He Was Detained By Business In San Francisco

For Several Months, And The Child Born Here."

 

"Good Commonplace Story. Just The Sort That Is Never Questioned. Of

Course If She Did Not Correspond With Her Family During All That Time She

Could Adopt Any Name For Her Return To Respectability That She Chose.

Delano Wasn't It? That's Certain. What Line Do You Intend To Take? After

I've Delivered The Facts?"

 

"My Object Is To Have The Child's Legitimacy Established, If Possible,

Then See That Madame Delano Leaves California Forever. I Think That She

Could Be Terrified By A Threat Of Blackmail. I Can't Imagine The Mere

Chance Of Recognition Worrying Her, For I Should Say She Had As Much

Courage As Presence Of Mind. But Her Passion Is Money. If She Thought

There Was Any Danger Of Being Forced To Hand Over What She Has I Fancy

She Would Get Out As Quickly As Possible. She Is An Intelligent Woman And

I Imagine She Has Taken A Sardonic Pleasure In Sitting Out In Full View

Of San Francisco, And Getting Away With It."

 

"And Marrying Her Girl To The Greatest Catch In California," Thought The

Detective, But He Said:

 

"I Believe You're Dead Right, Although, Of Course, There May Be Nothing

In It. Even 'Gene Bisbee Might Be Mistaken, Pryin' A Gazelle Out Of An

Elephant Like That. Now, Tell Me All You Know."

 

When Ruyler Had Covered Every Point Spaulding Nodded. "It's Possible This

Jim Was The Maquereau And She Made Him Marry Her For The Sake Of The

Child. Doubt If The Date Can Be Proved Except Through The Lawyers, And It

Will Be Hard To Make Them Talk. Of Course If There Is A Holbrook Centre

And She Was Married There--But I Have My Doubts. The Point Is That He

Evidently Married Her If She Is Settlin' Up His Estate. I'll Find Out

What Jims Have Died Within The Last Three Years Or So. That's Easy. The

Direct Route To The One We Want Is Through St. Peter. I'll Go Up

To-Night."

 

"And You'll Report To-Morrow?"

 

"Yep. Meet Me Here At Six P.M. Lucky The Man Seems To Have Died After

The Fire. I'll Set Some One On The Job Of Searching Death Records

Right Away."

 

 

Chapter 4

 

I

 

Ruyler Had Half Promised To Go To A Dinner That Night At The House Of

John Gwynne, Whose Wife Would Chaperon His Wife Afterward To The Last Of

The Assembly Dances.

 

Gwynne Was His English Friend Who Had Abandoned The Ancient Title

Inherited Untimely When He Was Making A Reputation In The House Of

Commons, And Become An American Citizen In California, Where He Had A

Large Ranch Originally The Property Of An American Grandmother. His

Migration Had Been Justified In His Own Eyes By His Ready Adaptation To

The Land Of His Choice And To The Opportunities Offered In The Rebuilding

Of San Francisco After The Earthquake And Fire, As Well As In The

Renovation Of Its Politics. He Had Made His Ranch Profitable, Read Law As

A Stepping-Stone To The Political Career, And Had Just Been Elected To

Congress. Ruyler Was One Of His Few Intimate Friends And Had Promised To

Go To This Farewell Dinner If Possible. A Place Would Be Kept Vacant For

Him Until The Last Minute.

 

Gwynne Had Married Isabel Otis[A], A Californian Of Distinguished Beauty

And Abilities, Whose Roots Were Deep In San Francisco, Although She Had

"Run A Ranch" In Sonoma County. The Gwynnes And The Thorntons Until

Ruyler Met Helene Had Been The Friends Whose Society He Had Sought Most

In His Rare Hours Of Leisure, And He Had Spent Many Summer Week-Ends At

Their Country Homes. He Had Hoped That The Intimacy Would Deepen After

His Marriage, But Helene During The Past Year Had Gone Almost Exclusively

With The Younger Set, The "Dancing Squad"; Natural Enough Considering Her

Age, But Ruyler Would Have Expected A Girl Of So Much Intelligence, To

Say Nothing Of Her Severe Education, To Have Tired Long Since Of That

Artificial Wing Of Society Devoted Solely To Froth, And Gravitated

Naturally Toward The Best The City Afforded. But She Had Appeared To Like

The Older Women Better At First Than Later, Although She Accepted Their

Invitations To Large Dinners And Dances.

 

[Footnote A: See "Ancestors."]

 

Ruyler Made Up His Mind To Attend This Dinner At Gwynne's, And Telephoned

His Acceptance Before He Left Long's. Business Or No Business, He Should

Be His Wife's Bodyguard Hereafter. There Were Blackmailers In Society As

Out Of It, And It Was Possible That His Ubiquity Would Frighten Them Off.

Whether To Demand His Wife's Confidence Or Not He Was Undecided. Better

Let Events Determine.

 

 

Ii

 

When He Arrived At Home He Went Directly To Helene's Room, But Paused

With His Hand On The Knob Of The Door. He Heard His Mother-In-Law's Voice

And She Was The Last Person He Wished To Meet Until He Was In A Position

To Tell Her To Leave The Country. He Was Turning Away Impatiently When

Madame Delano Lifted Her Hard Incisive Tones.

 

"And You Promised Me!" She Exclaimed Passionately. "I Trusted You, I

Never Believed--"

 

Price Retreated Hurriedly To His Own Room, And It Was Not Until He

Had Taken A Cold Shower And Was Half Dressed That He Permitted

Himself To Think.

 

That Wretch Had Known, Then! It Was She Who Had Been Blackmailing Her

Daughter. And The Poor Child Had Been Afraid To Confide In Him, To Ask

Him For Money. No Wonder Her Eyes Had Flashed At The Prospect Of A

Fortune Of Her Own....

 

An Even Less Welcome Ray Illuminated His Mind At This Point. His Wife Was

Not Unversed In The Arts Of Dissimulation Herself. True, She Was French

And Took Naturally To Diplomatic Wiles; True, Also, The Instinct Of

Self-Preservation In Even Younger Members Of A Sex That Man In His

Centuries Of Power Had Made, Superficially, The Weaker, Was Rarely Inert.

 

What Woman Would Wish Her Husband To Know Disgraceful Ancestral Secrets

Which Were No Fault Of Hers? A Much Older Woman Would Not Be Above

Entombing Them, If The Fates Were Kind. But It Saddened Him To Think That

His Wife Should Be Rushed To Maturity Along The Devious Way. Poor Child,

He Must Win Her Confidence As Quickly As His Limping Wits Would Permit

And Shift Her Burden To His Own Shoulders.

 

Having Learned Through The Medium Of The House Telephone That His

Mother-In-Law Had Departed, He Knocked At His Wife's Door. She Opened It

At Once And There Was No Mark Of Agitation On Her Little Oval Face Under

Its Proudly Carried Crown Of Heavy Braids. She Was Looking Very Lovely In

A Severe Black Velvet Gown Whose Texture And Depth Cunningly Matched Her

Eyes And Threw Into A Relief As Artful The White Purity Of Her Skin And

The Delicate Pink Of Lip And Cheek.

 

She Smiled At Him Brilliantly. "It Can't Be True That You Are

Going With Me?"

 

"I've Reformed. I Shall Go With You Everywhere From This Time Forth. But

I Thought I Heard Your Mother's Voice When I Came In--"

 

"She Often Comes In About Dressing Time To See Me In A New Frock. How

Heavenly That You Will Always Go With Me." Her Voice Shook A Little And

She Leaned Over To Smooth A Possible Wrinkle In Her Girdle.

 

"Will You Come Down To The Library? We Are Rather Early."

 

He Went Directly To The Safe And Took Out The Ruby And Clasped The Chain

About Her Neck. The Chain Was Long And The Great Jewel Took A Deeper And

More Mysterious Color From The Somber Background Of Her Bodice.

 

Helene Gasped. "Am I To Wear It To-Night? That Would Be Too Wonderful.

This Is The Last Great Night