Part 44 (1/2)

When I reached the central part of the city, I did not hasten thence to Elmhurst Mansion. Instead, I returned to my hotel. I did not now care to see any of my friends or even to take up matters of business with my chief. It is not for me to tell what feelings came to me when I left Helena von Ritz.

Sleep such as I could gain, reflections such as were inevitable, occupied me for all that night. It was mid-morning of the following day when finally I once more sought out Mr. Calhoun.

He had not expected me, but received me gladly. It seemed that he had gone on about his own plans and with his own methods. ”The Senora Yturrio is doing me the honor of an early morning call,” he began. ”She is with my daughter in another part of the house. As there is matter of some importance to come up, I shall ask you to attend.”

He despatched a servant, and presently the lady mentioned joined us. She was a pleasing picture enough in her robe of black laces and sulphur-colored silks, but her face was none too happy, and her eyes, it seemed to me, bore traces either of unrest or tears. Mr. Calhoun handed her to a chair, where she began to use her languid but effective fan.

”Now, it gives us the greatest regret, my dear Senora,” began Mr.

Calhoun, ”to have General Almonte and your husband return to their own country. We have valued, their presence here very much, and I regret the disruption of the friendly relations between our countries.”

She made any sort of gesture with her fan, and he went on: ”It is the regret also of all, my dear lady, that your husband seems so shamelessly to have abandoned you. I am quite aware, if you will allow me to be so frank, that you need some financial a.s.sistance.”

”My country is ruined,” said she. ”Also, Senor, I am ruined. As you say, I have no means of life. I have not even money to secure my pa.s.sage home. That Senor Van Zandt--”

”Yes, Van Zandt did much for us, through your agency, Senora. We have benefited by that, and I therefore regret he proved faithless to you personally. I am sorry to tell you that he has signified his wish to join our army against your country. I hear also that your late friend, Mr. Polk, has forgotten most of his promises to you.”

”Him I hate also!” she broke out. ”He broke his promise to Senor Van Zandt, to my husband, to me!”

Calhoun smiled in his grim fas.h.i.+on. ”I am not surprised to hear all that, my dear lady, for you but point out a known characteristic of that gentleman. He has made me many promises which he has forgotten, and offered me even of late distinguished honors which he never meant me to accept. But, since I have been personally responsible for many of these things which have gone forward, I wish to make what personal amends I can; and ever I shall thank you for the good which you have done to this country. Believe me, Madam, you served your own country also in no ill manner. This situation could not have been prevented, and it is not your fault. I beg you to believe that. Had you and I been left alone there would have been no war.”

”But I am poor, I have nothing!” she rejoined.

There was indeed much in her situation to excite sympathy. It had been through her own act that negotiations between England and Texas were broken off. All chance of Mexico to regain property in Texas was lost through her influence with Van Zandt. Now, when all was done, here she was, deserted even by those who had been her allies in this work.

”My dear Senora,” said John Calhoun, becoming less formal and more kindly, ”you shall have funds sufficient to make you comfortable at least for a time after your return to Mexico. I am not authorized to draw upon our exchequer, and you, of course, must prefer all secrecy in these matters. I regret that my personal fortune is not so large as it might be, but, in such measure as I may, I shall a.s.sist you, because I know you need a.s.sistance. In return, you must leave this country. The flag is down which once floated over the house of Mexico here.”

She hid her face behind her fan, and Calhoun turned aside.

”Senora, have you ever seen this slipper?” he asked, suddenly placing upon the table the little shoe which for a purpose I had brought with me and meantime thrown upon the table.

She flashed a dark look, and did not speak.

”One night, some time ago, your husband pursued a lady across this town to get possession of that very slipper and its contents! There was in the toe of that little shoe a message. As you know, we got from it certain information, and therefore devised certain plans, which you have helped us to carry out. Now, as perhaps you have had some personal animus against the other lady in these same complicated affairs, I have taken the liberty of sending a special messenger to ask her presence here this morning. I should like you two to meet, and, if that be possible, to part with such friends.h.i.+p as may exist in the premises.”

I looked suddenly at Mr. Calhoun. It seemed he was planning without my aid.

”Yes,” he said to me, smiling, ”I have neglected to mention to you that the Baroness von Ritz also is here, in another apartment of this place.

If you please, I shall now send for her also.”

He signaled to his old negro attendant. Presently the latter opened the door, and with a deep bow announced the Baroness von Ritz, who entered, followed closely by Mr. Calhoun's inseparable friend, old Doctor Ward.

The difference in breeding between these two women was to be seen at a glance. The Dona Lucrezia was beautiful in a way, but lacked the thoroughbred quality which comes in the highest types of womanhood.

Afflicted by nothing but a somewhat mercenary or personal grief, she showed her lack of gameness in adversity. On the other hand, Helena von Ritz, who had lived tragedy all her life, and now was in the climax of such tragedy, was smiling and debonaire as though she had never been anything but wholly content with life! She was robed now in some light filmy green material, caught up here and there on the shoulders and secured with silken knots. Her white neck showed, her arms were partly bare with the short sleeves of the time. She stood, composed and easy, a figure fit for any company or any court, and somewhat shaming our little a.s.sembly, which never was a court at all, only a private meeting in the office of a discredited and disowned leader in a republican government. Her costume and her bearing were Helena von Ritz's answer to a woman's fate! A deep color flamed in her cheeks. She stood with head erect and lips smiling brilliantly. Her curtsey was grace itself. Our dingy little office was glorified.

”I interrupt you, gentlemen,” she began.

”On the contrary, I am sure, my dear lady,” said Doctor Ward, ”Senator Calhoun told me he wished you to meet Senora Yturrio.”