Part 10 (1/2)
”Why, of course, _Pike, Pike_--it is the name of a fish.”
”Thank you.”
The young gentleman from the army moved uneasily, and they remembered that he was present. He hoped they wouldn't mind if he went to look up his partner for the next dance, and they a.s.sured him that they wouldn't, and he believed them and was backing away when Popova arrived to suggest the lateness of the hour and intimate his willingness to return to the hotel.
His sudden journey to the western hemisphere and his period of residence at Was.h.i.+ngton had been punctuated with surprises, but the amazement which smote him when he saw Kalora leaning across the table toward the young man who had introduced the gin fizz into Morovenia was sudden and shocking.
Mr. Pike greeted him rapturously and gave him the keys to North America, and then Kalora patted him on the arm and sent him away to wait for her.
They sat and talked for an hour--sat and talked and laughed and pieced out between them the wonderful details of that very lively day in Morovenia.
”And you have come all the way to Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. in order to increase your weight?” he asked. ”That certainly would make a full-page story for a Sunday paper. Think of anybody's coming to Was.h.i.+ngton to fatten up!
Why, when I come down here to regulate these committees, I lose a pound a day.”
”I never dreamed that there could be a country in which women are given so much freedom--so many liberties.”
”And what we don't give them, they take--which is eminently correct. Of all the s.e.xes, there is only one that ever made a real impression on me.”
”And to think that some day I shall have to return to Morovenia!”
”Forget it,” urged Mr. Pike, in a low and soothing tone. ”Far be it from me to start anything in your family, but if I were you, I would never go back there to serve a life sentence in one of those lime-kilns, with a curtain over my face. You are now at the spot where woman is real superintendent of the works, and this is where you want to camp for the rest of your life.”
”But I can not disobey my father. I dare not remain if he--”
She paused, realizing that the talk had led her to dangerous ground, for Mr. Pike had dropped his large hand on her small one and was gazing at her with large devouring eyes.
”You won't go back if I can help it,” he said, leaning still nearer to her. ”I know this is a little premature, even for me, but I just want you to know that from the minute I looked down from the wall that day and saw you under the tree--well, I haven't been able to find anything else in the world worth looking at. When I met you again to-night, I didn't remember your name. You didn't remember my name. What of that? We know each other pretty well--don't you think we do? The way you looked at me, when I came across to speak to you--I don't know, but it made me believe, all at once, that maybe you had been thinking of me, the same as I had been thinking of you. If I'm saying more than I have a right to say, head me off, but, for once in my life, I'm in earnest.”
”I'm glad--you like me,” she said, and she pushed back in her chair and looked down and away from him and felt that her face was burning with blushes.
”When you have found out all about me, I hope you'll keep on speaking to me just the same,” he continued. ”I warn you that, from now on, I am going to pester you a lot. You'll find me sitting on your front door-step every morning, ready to take orders. To-morrow I must hie me to New York, to explain to some venerable directors why the net earnings have fallen below forty per cent. But when I return, O fair maiden, look out for me.”
He would be back in Was.h.i.+ngton within three days. He would come to her hotel. They were to ride in the motor-car and they were to go to the theaters. She must meet his mother. His mother would take her to New York, and there would be the opera, and this, and that, and so on, for he was going to show her all the attractions of the Western Hemisphere.
The night was thinning into the grayness of dawn when he took her to the waiting carriage. She put her hand through the window and he held it for a long time, while they once more went over their delicious plans.
After the carriage had started, Popova spoke up from his dark corner.
”I am beginning to understand why you wished to come to America. Also I have made a discovery. It was Mr. Pike who overcame the guards and jumped over the wall.”
”I shall ask the Governor-General to give you Koldo's position.”
An enormous surprise was waiting for them at the hotel. It was a cable from Morovenia--long, decisive, definite, composed with an utter disregard for heavy tolls. It directed Popova to bring the shameless daughter back to Morovenia immediately--not a moment's delay under pain of the most horrible penalties that could be imagined. They were to take the first steamer. They were to come home with all speed. Surely there was no mistaking the fierce intent of the message.
Popova suffered a moral collapse and Kalora went into a fit of weeping.
Both of them feared to return and yet, at such a crisis, they knew that they dared not disobey.
The whole morning was given over to hurried packing-up. An afternoon train carried them to New York. A steamer was to sail early next day, and they went aboard that very night.