Part 9 (1/2)

The sleepy eyes of the woman were raised expectantly to his face, and, deep down in their depths, a light of admiration, which had only his manhood for its object, was growing with each pa.s.sing moment. She too rose from her seat at the window, and they stood facing each other perfect in their splendid youth.

”Well?”

The woman could no longer restrain her impatience. Her interrogation broke from her almost unconsciously.

”I came here to--accept your invitation to visit that--to see those things first hand, which is the duty of our country's political leaders,” he said, with a smile which thrilled the expectant woman.

”And you will--accept?”

Ruxton nodded. His fine head, with its fair hair, was inclined in acquiescence.

”Thank G.o.d!”

The woman's exclamation was one of unrestrained thankfulness and relief. Had Ruxton needed any added proof of her honesty and sincerity, it was in that wonderful expression of fervid thankfulness which accompanied her words. But he had needed none, and it was the result of a coalition of heart and brain.

”I shall communicate with your father and appoint a time when I can start with him--on his submersible.”

The woman's eyes were wide.

”My father!” she exclaimed.

”Surely--Mr. Charles Smith.”

The laugh which followed Ruxton's announcement was full of delighted admiration.

”And we took so much trouble. We planned so carefully. We came to you because we believed you to be the only man approachable on such a subject. We did not realize we were approaching an intellect capable of fathoming and turning inside out our closely kept secrets.”

”Intellect?” Ruxton laughed as he held out his hand in ”good-bye.” ”It is not necessarily intellect which recognizes strong family likenesses.

But I regret to say that your father, brilliant as he may be as an inventor, does not do you justice in the matter of his personal appearance. However, I shall send him a message addressed Veevee, London, which you will doubtless see, and I pray that Providence may bless our feeble efforts. From all I can imagine the immediate future will contain many uncertainties for me, so I do not know if we shall ever meet again. But I want to tell you that I thank you from the bottom of my heart for coming to me. If things are as bad as you think, then you have done our country an inestimable service--you and your father.”

But his words had a different effect from that which might have been expected. A shudder of pain seemed suddenly to affect the woman and a great distress shadowed her beautiful eyes.

”Please don't,” she cried. ”If you knew all that is in here,” she went on, pressing her hands upon her bosom, ”you would understand all this thing means. Mr. Farlow, you have never felt terror as a woman can feel it. How could you? You, a man, so big, and strong, and fearless. Even your imagination, riot as it may, could never know the haunt which the sinking of the _Lusitania_ has created in my woman's mind. Those poor helpless souls. Think of them, and think of some future, distant day when---- Oh, G.o.d! No, no! The service you speak of is no service. It is--Duty.”

Ruxton was deeply affected by the evident sincerity of her distress. He had nothing to add. But Vita Vladimir brushed her moment of weakness aside, and gazed up at him with luminous, searching eyes.

”I had almost forgotten,” she cried. ”I am afraid I am but a poor plotter. The delight that you have accepted has put so much out of my poor brain.” Then her eyes grew wide with awe and dread. ”I told you that other lives than yours hang upon this matter. So--it is necessary for inviolable secrecy. Need you tell even your--father of your going?

Need any one know? Your servants? Any one at all? It is a big thing to ask, but--life is very dear to us all, and---- No, no, what am I talking about? I must not beg. I must demand. For as sure as the sun rises to-morrow you will be silenced forever if word of this leaks out.

We shall all be.”

The woman's manner was far more impressive than her words. But Ruxton treated the matter almost lightly.

”Don't worry. I have given my promise to go. I am wilfully thrusting my neck into the noose waiting for it. I shall not take unnecessary chances. No one, not even my father, shall hear of this thing from me.

So--good-bye until I return from--Germany.”

Vita's relief found expression in a grave sort of smile.