Part 98 (2/2)

”I know him,” said Keith, amused at the cool professional air with which his old friend greeted him in the presence of his princ.i.p.al.

Dave simply blinked; but his eyes had a fire in them.

It was arranged that Dennison should precede Keith to the place he had mentioned and order a supper there, while Keith should get the ticket at the steams.h.i.+p office and then follow him. So when Keith had completed his arrangements, he found Dennison at supper at a table near the ladies' entrance, a view of which he commanded in a mirror just before him. Mr. Dimm's manner had entirely changed. He was a man of the world and a host as he handed Keith to his seat.

”A supper for two has been ordered in private dining-room 21, for 9:45,”

he said in an undertone as the waiter moved off. ”They do not know whether it is for a gentleman and a lady, or two gentlemen; but I suppose it is for a lady, as he has been here a number of times with ladies. If you are sure that the lady will not come, you might wait for him there. I will remain here until he comes, and follow him up, in case you need me.”

Keith feared that the waiter might mention his presence.

”Oh, no; he knows us,” said Dave, with a faint smile at the bare suggestion.

Mr. Dimm called the head-waiter and spoke to him in an undertone. The waiter himself showed Keith up to the room, where he found a table daintily set with two covers.

The champagne-cooler, filled with ice, was already on the floor beside the table. Keith looked at it grimly. The curtains of the window were down, and Keith walked over to see on what street the window looked. It was a deep embrasure. The shade was drawn down, and he raised it, to find that the window faced on a dead-wall. At the moment the door opened and he heard Wickersham's voice.

”No one has come yet?”

”No, sir, not as I knows of,” stammered the waiter. ”I have just come on.”

”Where is Jacques, the man who usually waits on me?” demanded Wickersham, half angrily.

”Jacques est souffrant. Il est tres malade.”

Wickersham grunted. ”Well, take this,” he said, ”and remember that if you serve me properly there will be a good deal more to follow.”

The waiter thanked him profusely.

”Now, get down and be on the lookout, and when a lady comes and asks for 21, show her up immediately. If she asks who is here, tell her two gentlemen and a lady. You understand?”

The waiter bowed his a.s.sent and retired. Wickersham came in and closed the door behind him.

He had just thrown his coat on a chair, laid his hat on the mantelpiece, and was twirling his moustache at the mirror above it, when he caught sight in the mirror of Keith. Keith had stepped out behind him from the recess, and was standing by the table, quietly looking at him. He gave an exclamation and turned quickly.

”Hah! What is this? You here! What are you doing here? There is some mistake.” He glanced at the door.

”No, there is no mistake,” said Keith, advancing; ”I am waiting for you.”

”For me! Waiting for me?” he demanded, mystified.

”Yes. Did you not tell the waiter just now a gentleman was here? I confess you do not seem very pleased to see me.”

”You have read my looks correctly,” said Wickersham, who was beginning to recover himself, and with it his scornful manner. ”You are the last person on earth I wish to see--ever. I do not know that I should weep if I never had that pleasure again.”

Keith bowed.

”I think it probable. You may, hereafter, have even less cause for joy at meeting me.”

”Impossible,” said Wickersham.

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