Part 13 (1/2)

CHAPTER X

The curtain fell upon the first act of ”Louise.” The lights were turned up, the tenseness relaxed, men made dives for their hats, and the unmusical murmured the usual plat.i.tudes. Naida leaned forward from the corner of her box to the man who was her sole companion.

”Father,” she said, ”I am expecting a caller with whom I wish to speak--Lord Dorminster. If he comes, will you leave us alone? And if any one else should be here, please take them away.”

”More mysteries,” her father muttered, not unkindly. ”Who is this man Dorminster?”

Naida leaned back in her chair and fanned herself slowly.

”No one I know very much about,” she acknowledged. ”I have selected him in my mind, however as being a typical Englishman of his cla.s.s. I wish to talk to him, to appreciate his point of view. You know what Paul said when he gave you the appointment and sent us over here: 'Find out for me what sort of men these Englishmen are.'”

”Matinsky should know,” her father observed. ”He was here twelve years ago. He came over with the first commission which established regular relations with the British Government.”

”No doubt,” she said equably, ”he was able to gauge the official outlook, but this country, during the last ten years, has gone through great vicissitudes. Besides, it is not only the official outlook in which Paul is interested. He doesn't understand, and frankly I don't, the position of what they call over here 'the man in the street.' You see, he must be either a fool, or he must be grossly deceived.”

”So far as my dealings with him go, I should never call the Englishman a fool,” Karetsky confessed.

”There are degrees and conditions of fools,” his daughter declared calmly. ”A man with a perfectly acute brain may have simply idiotic impulses towards credulity, and a credulous man is always a fool.

Anyhow, I know what Paul wants.”

There was a knock at the door. Karetsky opened it and stood aside to let Nigel pa.s.s in. Naida held out her hand to the latter with a smile.

”I am so glad that you have come,” she said, raising her eyes for a minute to his. ”Father, you remember Lord Dorminster?”

The two men exchanged a few commonplace remarks. Then Karetsky reached for his hat.

”Your arrival, Lord Dorminster,” he observed, ”leaves me free to make a few calls myself. We shall, I trust, meet again.”

Nigel murmured a few courteous words and watched the retreating figure with some curiosity.

”Your father is very typical,” he declared. ”He reminds me of your country itself. He is ma.s.sive, has suggestions of undeveloped strength.”

”Add that he is a little ponderous,” Naida said lightly, ”slow to make up his mind, but as obstinate as the Urals themselves, and you have described him. Now tell me what you think of a young woman who rings you up without the slightest encouragement and invites you to come to the Opera purposely to visit her box.”

”I deny the absence of encouragement, and I am very grateful for the opportunity of coming,” Nigel answered. ”And if I were to tell you all that I think of you,” he added, after a moment's pause, ”it would take me a great deal longer than this quarter of an hour's interval.”

These were their first few moments absolutely alone. Neither of them was unduly emotional, neither wholly free from experience, yet they looked and spoke and felt as though the coming of new things was at hand. The atmosphere of music, still present, was a wonderful background to the intensified sensations of which both were conscious. Naida had the utmost difficulty in steadying her voice.

”I wanted to talk to you seriously because you can help me very much if you will,” she began. ”In a sense, I am over here upon a mission. Some of us in Russia feel that your nation is imperfectly understood there.

We are bearing grudges against you which may not be wholly justified.

You see, to speak very plainly, we are under the constant influence of a people which cherishes no feelings of friends.h.i.+p towards you.”

For a moment the personal element had disappeared. Nigel remembered who his companion was and all that she stood for. He drew his chair a little nearer to hers.

”If you are looking for a typical Englishman,” he said, ”I fear that I shall be a disappointment to you. The typical Englishman of to-day is hiding his head in the sand. I am not disposed to do anything of the sort. I recognise a great coming danger, and I am afraid of your country.”

”The att.i.tude of the official Englishman I know,” she declared, a little eagerly. ”What I want to find out is whether there are many like yourself, who are awake.”

”I am afraid that I am in the minority,” he confessed. ”I am trying to carry on the work which my uncle commenced. I am trying to secure firm and definite evidence of a certain plot which I believe to be brewing in your country and in Germany.”