The Essential Writings of Marie Belloc Lowndes. Marie Belloc Lowndes

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      Chapter XI

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      "I suppose we ought to start in about half an hour," said the Senator genially. They were sitting, he and Gerald, at breakfast.

      Madame Poulain, with the adaptability of her kind--the adaptability which makes the French innkeeper the best in the world, always served a real "American breakfast" in the Burtons' salon.

      As his son made no answer to his remark, he went on, "I should like to be at the station a few minutes before the Hamworths' train is due."

      Senator Burton was sorry, very, very sorry indeed, that there was still no news of the missing man, on this third morning of Dampier's disappearance. But he could not help feeling glad that poor little Mrs. Dampier had stayed in bed; thanks to that fact he and his children were having breakfast together, in the old, comfortable way.

      The Senator felt happier than he had felt for some time. What a comfort it would be, even to Gerald and to Daisy, to forget for a moment this strange, painful affair, and to spend three or four hours with old friends!

      Gerald looked up. "I'm not coming, father. You will have to make my apologies to the Hamworths. Of course I should have liked to see them. But Mrs. Dampier has asked me to be present at the search. Someone ought, of course, to be there to represent her." He jerked the words out with a touch of defiance in his voice.

      "I'm sorry she did that," said the Senator coldly. "And I think, Gerald, you should have consulted me before consenting to do so. You see, our position with regard to the Poulains is a delicate one--"

      "Delicate?" repeated Gerald quickly. "How do you mean, father?"

      "We have known these people a long while. It is fifteen years, Gerald, since I first came to this hotel with your dear mother. I have received nothing but kindness from Madame Poulain, and I am very, very sorry that she now associates us in her mind with this painful business."

      "All I can say is, sir, that I do not share your sorrow."

      The Senator looked up quickly. This was the first time--yes, the very first time that Gerald had ever spoken to him with that touch of sarcasm--some would have said impertinence--which sits so ill on the young, at any rate in the view of the old. Perhaps Gerald repented of his rude, hasty words, for it was in a very different tone that he went on:--

      "You see, father, I believe the whole of Mrs. Dampier's story, and you only believe a part. If I shared your view I should think very ill of her indeed. But you, father (I don't quite know how you do it) manage to like and respect her, and to believe the Poulains as well!"

      "Yes," said the Senator slowly, "that is so, Gerald. I believe that the Poulains are telling the truth, and that this poor young woman thinks she is telling the truth--two very different things, my boy, as you will find out by the time you know as much of human nature as I now do. When you have lived as long as I have lived in the world, you will know that many people have an extraordinary power of persuading themselves of that which is not--"

      "But why--" asked Gerald eagerly,--"why should Mrs. Dampier wish to prove that her husband accompanied her here if he did nothing of the kind?"

      And then just as he asked the question which the Senator would not have found it very easy to answer, Daisy came into the room.

      "I have persuaded Mrs. Dampier to stay in bed till the search is over. She's just worn out, poor little dear: I shall be glad when this Mr. Stephens has arrived--she evidently has the greatest faith in him."

      "I shall be glad too," said the Senator slowly: how glad he would be neither of his children knew or guessed. "And now, Daisy, I hope you won't be long in getting ready to start for the station. I should be sorry indeed if the Hamworths' train came in before we reached there."

      "Father! Surely you don't want me to leave Nancy this morning of all mornings? She ought not to be alone while the search is going on. She wanted to be actually present at it, didn't she, Gerald?"

      The young man nodded. "Yes, but Daisy and I persuaded her that that was not necessary, that I would be there for her. It seems that Mr. Dampier had a very large portmanteau with him. She is sure that the Poulains have got it hidden away."

      "She has told Gerald exactly what it is like," chimed in Daisy.

      The Senator looked from one to the other: he felt both helpless and indignant. "The Hamworths are among the oldest friends we have in the world," he exclaimed. "Surely one of you will come with me? I'm not asking you to leave Mrs. Dampier for long, Daisy."

      But Daisy shook her head decidedly. "I'd rather not, father--I don't feel as if I wanted to see the Hamworths at all just now. I'm sure that when you explain everything to them, they will understand."

      Utterly discomfited and disappointed, and feeling for the first time really angry with poor Nancy Dampier, Senator Burton took his departure for the station, alone.

      Perquisition?

      To the French imagination there is something terrifying in the very word. And this justifiable terror is a national tradition. To thousands of honest folk a Perquisition was an ever present fear through the old Régime, and this fear became acute terror in the Revolution. Then a search warrant meant almost certainly subsequent arrest, imprisonment, and death.

      Even nowadays every Frenchman is aware that at any moment, and sometimes on the most frivolous pretext, his house may be searched, his most private papers ransacked, and every member of his household submitted to a sharp, informal interrogation, while he stands helpless by, bearing the outrage with what grace he may.

      Gerald Burton, much as he now disliked and suspected Monsieur and Madame Poulain, could not but feel sorry for them when he saw the manner in which those hitherto respectable and self-respecting folk were treated by the Police Agent who, with two subordinates, had been entrusted with the task of searching the Hôtel Saint Ange.

      The American was also surprised to see the eagerness with which the Poulains had welcomed his presence at their unpleasant ordeal.

      "Thank you for coming, Monsieur Gerald; but where is Monsieur le Sénateur?" asked Madame Poulain feverishly. "He promised--he absolutely promised us that he would be here this morning!"

      "My father has had to go out," said Gerald courteously, "but I am here to represent both him and Mrs. Dampier."

      A heavy frown gathered over the landlady's face. "Ah!" she muttered, "it was a dark day for us when we allowed that lady to enter our hotel!"

      Gerald, putting a strong restraint on his tongue, remained silent, but a moment later, as if in answer to his feeling of exasperation and anger, he heard the Police Agent's voice raised in sarcastic СКАЧАТЬ