Part 21 (1/2)

At Mr. Harley's appearance, Storri's arm-tossing and raving ended abruptly. He became oily and purringly suave, and bid Mr. Harley light a cigar which he tendered. A cat will play with a mouse before coming to the final kill; and there was a broad streak of the feline in Storri.

Now that his victim was within spring, he would play with him as preliminary to the supreme joy of that last lethal crunch.

Following the usual salutations, Mr. Harley sat in peace and favor with himself, waiting for Storri to begin. He would let Storri vent his excitement, blow off steam, as Mr. Harley expressed it; and then he would go about those calmative steps of explanation and a.s.surance suggested of the case.

Storri strode up and down, eying Mr. Harley with a mixed expression of cruelty and triumph which, had Mr. Harley caught the picture of it, might have made him feel uneasy. However, Mr. Harley was not looking at Storri. He was thinking on ending the interview as quickly and conveniently as he might, and hurrying posthaste to those speculative ones.

”Why did I bring you here to-night?” asked Storri at last.

”Northern Consolidated, I suppose,” said Mr. Harley, looking up.

Storri laughed, and a white flash of his teeth showed in a tigerish way.

”Come!” cried Storri, smiting his hands in a kind of rapture of cruelty; ”I will not, what you call it, beat about the bush. It is not Credit Magellan; it is not Northern Consolidated; no, it is not business at all. What! shall Storri be forever at some grind of business? Shall he never pause for love? My Czar would tell you another tale. Listen, my friend. I have done you the honor--I, Storri, a Russian n.o.bleman, have done you the honor to adore your daughter.”

Mr. Harley gaped and stared; he could not have been more impressed had the statue of Liberty which topped the Capitol dome stepped down for a stroll in the Capitol grounds. And yet he was not shocked; if Dorothy had decided on Storri for her husband, well and good; he was too indulgent a father to quarrel with her.

”I have spoken to Mrs. Hanway-Harley of my pa.s.sion,” continued Storri, still pacing to and fro. ”She is so charming as to encourage it.”

”Why, then,” broke in Mr. Harley, in evident relief, ”you have gone the right way about the matter. If my wife favors you, a.s.suredly you may count upon my consent.”

”Bah!” returned Storri, snapping his fingers. ”Mrs. Hanway-Harley consents; you consent; I am flattered! The fastidious Miss Dorothy, however, refuses my love--puts it aside! Storri is not the man! On my soul! Storri is declined by a little American who draws her blood from peasants!” and Storri threw his hands palm upward, expressing self-contempt in view of the insult thus put upon him.

”Does my daughter decline your love?”

”It is not that.” Storri could not for his vanity's sake, even after he himself had used them, accept those terms. ”Her heart has--what shall we say?--a tenant. Your daughter has gone among her own kind with her love.

It is that fellow Storms--it is he whom your daughter's taste prefers.”

”Dorothy loves Mr. Storms,” said Mr. Harley, speaking slowly, as men will on the receipt of surprising news. ”And she does not love you.”

After a thoughtful pause, Mr. Harley concluded: ”It is a subject about which I should hesitate to counsel my daughter.”

”I do not ask you to counsel her; you shall compel her.”

”Why, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Harley, starting up and growing apoplectic with anger, ”do you imagine that I'll force my child into your arms? If you were that Czar whom you are so fond of quoting, I would not do it!”

This came off in a great burst, and Mr. Harley in his turn began to pace the floor. The two pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed each other as they walked up and down, Mr. Harley puffing and swelling, Storri surveying him with leering superiority.

”Sit down!” cried Storri suddenly, after a minute spent in marching and countermarching. ”I will show you that you are in my hand.”

Storri had become calm and business-like; his new manner mystified Mr.

Harley and worked upon him. He dropped into the chair to which Storri motioned him. From his pocket, Storri took out those French shares.

”Do you see where you forged my name?” said he. ”Can you tell me the punishment for forgery?”

”Forgery!” panted Mr. Harley, in a whirl of rage and wonder. ”Did you not tell me to write your name? Was it not to sustain your deal in sugar?”

”Come--you Harley--you John Harley,” returned Storri, his cruelty beginning to bubble into exultation, ”how small a thing you are when opposed to Storri! See, now; it begins when you sacrifice for me those seven thousand dollars. It was then I set a trap for you--you, the cunning Mr. Harley! It was so simple; I need only give you a chance to forge my name and you forge it. From that moment you have had but the one alternative. You must follow my commands, or you must take the common course of criminals, and go to prison. And now--you Harley--you John Harley--you, who pride yourself for your respectability, for your place in the world, for your ill.u.s.trious relative Senator Hanway--hear me: You are to be my slave--my dog to fetch and carry. You are to do my will; or I swear by my Czar and by the heart in the breast of my Czar that I'll drag you before the world as a felon.”

Storri delivered this menace with a ruthless energy that sent it home like a javelin. It struck the color from the ruddy countenance of Mr.

Harley, and left him white as linen three times bleached.

”Yes,” went on the vindictive Storri in an exultant crow, ”did you little people believe you were to laugh at Storri and pa.s.s unpunished?

Did you think to insult him and escape his vengeance? Bah! the super-fine Dorothy is to spurn Storri for a varlet like this Storms! She is to laugh at Storri's love, and tell how she refused a n.o.bleman!