Part 9 (1/2)

A waiter served them with coffee. Mr. Sabin was idly sketching something on the back of his menu card. Felix broke into a little laugh as the man retired.

”Mysterious as ever,” he remarked.

Mr. Sabin smiled quietly. He went on with his sketch.

”I do not want,” Felix said, ”to seem impatient, but you must remember that I have come all the way from Europe in response to a very urgent message. As yet I have done nothing except form a very uncomfortable third at a luncheon and tea party, and listen to a good deal of enigmatic conversation between you and the charming Lady Carey. This evening I made sure that I should be enlightened. But no! You have given me a wonderful dinner--from you I expected it. We have eaten terrapin, canvas-back duck, and many other things the names of which alone were known to me. But of the reason for which you have summoned me here--I know nothing. Not one word have you spoken. I am beginning to fear from your avoidance of the subject that there is some trouble between you and Lucille. I beg that you will set my anxiety at rest.”

Mr. Sabin nodded.

”It is reasonable,” he said. ”Look here!”

He turned the menu card round. On the back he had sketched some sort of a device with the pencil which he had picked up, and which instead of black-lead contained a peculiar shade of yellow crayon. Felix sat as though turned to stone.

”Try,” Mr. Sabin said smoothly, ”and avoid that air of tragedy. Some of these good people might be curious.”

Felix leaned across the table. He pointed to the menu card.

”What does that mean?” he muttered.

Mr. Sabin contemplated it himself thoughtfully. ”Well,” he said, ”I rather thought that you might be able to explain that to me. I have an idea that there is a society in Europe--sort of aristocratic odd-fellows, you know--who had adopted it for their crest. Am I not right?”

Felix looked at him steadfastly.

”Tell me two things,” he said. ”First, why you sent for me, and secondly, what do you mean--by that?”

”Lucille,” Mr. Sabin said, ”has been taken away from me.”

”Lucille! Great G.o.d!”

”She has been taken away from me,” Mr. Sabin said, ”without a single word of warning.”

Felix pointed to the menu card.

”By them?” he asked.

”By them. It was a month ago. Two days before my cable.”

Felix was silent for several moments. He had not the self-command of his companion, and he feared to trust himself to speech.

”She has been taken to Europe,” Mr. Sabin continued. ”I do not know, I cannot even guess at the reason. She left no word. I have been warned not to follow her.”

”You obey?”

”I sail to-morrow.”

”And I?” Felix asked.

Mr. Sabin looked for, a moment at the drawing on the back of the menu card, and up at Felix. Felix shook his head.

”You must know,” he said, ”that I am powerless.”