Part 12 (2/2)
The top drawer contained a complete collection of carpenter's tools in miniature, relics probably of the far-distant time when the Major was a boy, and when parents or friends had made him a present of a set of toy tools. The second drawer was filled with toys of another sort--presents made to Major Fitz-David by his fair friends. Embroidered braces, smart smoking-caps, quaint pincus.h.i.+ons, gorgeous slippers, glittering purses, all bore witness to the popularity of the friend of the women. The contents of the third drawer were of a less interesting sort: the entire s.p.a.ce was filled with old account-books, ranging over a period of many years. After looking into each book, and opening and shaking it uselessly, in search of any loose papers which might be hidden between the leaves, I came to the fourth drawer, and found more relics of past pecuniary transactions in the shape of receipted bills, neatly tied together, and each inscribed at the back. Among the bills I found nearly a dozen loose papers, all equally unimportant. The fifth drawer was in sad confusion. I took out first a loose bundle of ornamental cards, each containing the list of dishes at past banquets given or attended by the Major in London or Paris; next, a box full of delicately tinted quill pens (evidently a lady's gift); next, a quant.i.ty of old invitation cards; next, some dog's-eared French plays and books of the opera; next, a pocket-corkscrew, a bundle of cigarettes, and a bunch of rusty keys; lastly, a pa.s.sport, a set of luggage labels, a broken silver snuff-box, two cigar-cases, and a torn map of Rome. ”Nothing anywhere to interest me,” I thought, as I closed the fifth, and opened the sixth and last drawer.
The sixth drawer was at once a surprise and a disappointment. It literally contained nothing but the fragments of a broken vase.
I was sitting, at the time, opposite to the cabinet, in a low chair. In the momentary irritation caused by my discovery of the emptiness of the last drawer, I had just lifted my foot to push it back into its place, when the door communicating with the hall opened, and Major Fitz-David stood before me.
His eyes, after first meeting mine, traveled downward to my foot. The instant he noticed the open drawer I saw a change in his face. It was only for a moment; but in that moment he looked at me with a sudden suspicion and surprise--looked as if he had caught me with my hand on the clew.
”Pray don't let me disturb you,” said Major Fitz-David. ”I have only come here to ask you a question.”
”What is it, Major?”
”Have you met with any letters of mine in the course of your investigations?”
”I have found none yet,” I answered. ”If I do discover any letters, I shall, of course, not take the liberty of examining them.”
”I wanted to speak to you about that,” he rejoined. ”It only struck me a moment since, upstairs, that my letters might embarra.s.s you. In your place I should feel some distrust of anything which I was not at liberty to examine. I think I can set this matter right, however, with very little trouble to either of us. It is no violation of any promises or pledges on my part if I simply tell you that my letters will not a.s.sist the discovery which you are trying to make. You can safely pa.s.s them over as objects that are not worth examining from your point of view.
You understand me, I am sure?”
”I am much obliged to you, Major--I quite understand.”
”Are you feeling any fatigue?”
”None whatever, thank you.”
”And you still hope to succeed? You are not beginning to be discouraged already?”
”I am not in the least discouraged. With your kind leave, I mean to persevere for some time yet.”
I had not closed the drawer of the cabinet while we were talking, and I glanced carelessly, as I answered him, at the fragments of the broken vase. By this time he had got his feelings under perfect command. He, too, glanced at the fragments of the vase with an appearance of perfect indifference. I remembered the look of suspicion and surprise that had escaped him on entering the room, and I thought his indifference a little overacted.
”_That_ doesn't look very encouraging,” he said, with a smile, pointing to the shattered pieces of china in the drawer.
”Appearances are not always to be trusted,” I replied. ”The wisest thing I can do in my present situation is to suspect everything, even down to a broken vase.”
I looked hard at him as I spoke. He changed the subject.
”Does the music upstairs annoy you?” he asked.
”Not in the least, Major.”
”It will soon be over now. The singing-master is going, and the Italian master has just arrived. I am sparing no pains to make my young prima donna a most accomplished person. In learning to sing she must also learn the language which is especially the language of music. I shall perfect her in the accent when I take her to Italy. It is the height of my ambition to have her mistaken for an Italian when she sings in public. Is there anything I can do before I leave you again? May I send you some more champagne? Please say yes!”
”A thousand thanks, Major. No more champagne for the present.”
He turned at the door to kiss his hand to me at parting. At the same moment I saw his eyes wander slyly toward the book-case. It was only for an instant. I had barely detected him before he was out of the room.
Left by myself again, I looked at the book-case--looked at it attentively for the first time.
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