the drums of jeopardy-第35节

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better　than　anything　Kuroki　makes。。。。　　Tastes　better；　too。　　You're
going　to　make　some　lucky　duffer　a　fine　wife。〃

〃Is　there　anything　you　can　tell　me；　Cutty？〃

〃A　whole　lot；　Kitty；　only　I'm　twenty　years　too　old。〃

〃I　mean　the　wallet。　　Who　is　he？〃

Cutty　drained　the　cup　slowly。　　A　good　coherent　lie；　to　appease
Kitty's　curiosity；　half　a　truth；　something　hard　to　nail。　　He　set
down　the　empty　cup；　building。　　By　the　time　he　had　filled　his　pipe
and　lit　it　he　was　ready。

Something　bored　up　through　the　subconscious；　however　…　a　query。　　Why
hadn't　he　told　her　the　plain　truth　at　the　start？　　Wasn't　on　account
of　the　drums。　　He　hadn't　kept　her　in　the　dark　because　of　the　drums。
He　could　have　trusted　her　with　that　part　of　it　…　his　tentative
piracy。　　That　to　divulge　Hawksley's　identity　would　be　a　menace　to
her　peace　of　mind　now　appeared　ridiculous；　and　yet　he　had　worked
forward　from　this　assumption。　　No　answer　to　the　query。　　Generally
he　thought　clearly　enough；　but　somewhere　along　this　route　he　had
made　a　muddle　of　things　and　couldn't　find　the　spot。　　The　only　point
clearly　defined　was　that　he　should　wish　to　keep　her　out　of　the
affair　because　there　were　elements　of　positive　danger。　　But　somewhere
inside　of　him　was　a　question　asking　for　recognition；　and　it　eluded
him。　　Nothing　could　be　solved　until　this　question　got　out　of　the　fog。
Even　now　he　might　risk　the　whole　truth；　but　the　lie　he　had　woven
appeared　too　good　to　waste。

Human　frailty。　　The　most　accomplished　human　being　is　the　finished
liar。　　Never　to　forget　a　detail；　to　remember　step　by　step　the
windings；　over　a　ticklish　road。　　And　Cutty；　for　all　his　wide
newspaper　experience；　was　a　poor　liar　because　he　had　been　brought
up　on　facts。　　Perhaps　his　lie　might　have　passed　had　he　not　been　so
fagged。　　The　physical　labours　of　the　night　had　dulled　his
perceptions。

〃Ab；　but　that　tastes　good！〃　…　as　he　blew　forth　a　wavering　ring　of
smoke。

〃It　ought　to　have　at　least　one　merit；〃　replied　Kitty；　wrinkling　her
nose。　　What　a　fine　profile　Cutty　had！　　〃Now；　who　and　what　is　he？
I'm　dying　to　know。〃

〃An　odd　story；　probably　hundreds　like　it。　　You　see；　the　Bolsheviki
have　driven　out　of　the　country　or　killed　all　the　nobles　and
bourgeoisie。　　Some　of　them　have　escaped　…　into　China；　Sweden；　India；
wherever　they　could　find　an　open　route。　　To　his　story　there　are　many
loose　ends；　and　Hawksley　is　not　the　talking　kind。　　You　mustn't　repeat
what　I　tell　you。　　Hawksley；　with　all　that　money　and　a　forged　English
passport；　would　have　a　good　deal　of　trouble　explaining　if　he　ran
afoul　the　police。　　There　is　no　real　proof　that　the　money　is　his　or
Gregor's。　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　it　is　Gregor's；　and　Hawksley　was
bringing　it　to　him。　　Hawksley　is　Gregor's　protege。〃

Kitty　nodded。　　This　dovetailed　with　what　Johnny　Two…Hawks　had　told
her　that　night。

〃How　the　two　came　together　originally　I　don't　know。　　Gregor　was　in
his　younger　days　a　great　violinist；　but　unknown　to　the　American
public。　　Early　in　his　career　he　speculated　with　his　concert　earnings
and　turned　a　pot　of　money。　　He　dropped　the　professional　career　for
that　of　a　country　gentleman。　　He　had　a　handsome　estate；　and　lived
sensibly。　　He　sent　Hawksley　to　England　to　school　and　spent　a　good
deal　of　time　there　with　him；　teaching　him　how　to　play　the　fiddle；
for　which　it　seems　Hawksley　had　a　natural　bent。　　He　had　to　Anglicize
his　name；　for　Two…Hawks　would　have　made　people　laugh。　　To　be　a
gentleman；　Kitty；　one　does　not　have　to　be　a　prince　or　a　grand　duke。
Gregor　was　a　polished　gentleman；　and　he　turned　Hawksley　into　one。〃

Again　Kitty　nodded；　her　eyes　sparkling。

〃The　Russ　…　the　educated　Russ　…　is　a　queer　biscuit。　　Got　to　have　a
finger　in　some　political　pie；　and　political　pies　in　Russia　before
the　war　were　lese…majesty。　　The　result　…　Gregor　got　in　wrong　with
his　secret　society　and　the　political　police　and　was　forced　to　fly
to　save　his　life。　　But　before　he　fled　he　had　all　his　convertible
funds　transferred。　　Only　his　estate　was　confiscated。　　Hawksley　was
in　London　when　the　war　broke　out。　　There　was　a　lot　of　red　tape；
naturally；　regarding　the　funds。　　I　shan't　bother　you　with　that；
Hawksley；　hoping　to　better　his　protector's　future；　returned　to
Russia　and　joined　his　regiment　and　fought　until　the　Czar　abdicated。
Foretasting　the　trend　of　events；　he　tried　to　get　back　to　England；
but　that　was　impossible。　　He　was　permitted　to　retire　to　the　Gregor
estate；　where　he　remained　until　the　uprising　of　the　Bolsheviki。
Then　he　started　across　the　world　to　join　Gregor。〃

〃That　was　brave。〃

〃It　certainly　was。　　I　imagine　that　Hawksley's　journey　has　that　of
Ulysses　laid　away　on　the　shelf。　　Karlov　was　the　head　of　the
society　which　had　voted　Gregor's　death。　　So　he　had　agents　watching
Hawksley。　　And　Karlov　himself　undertook　the　chase　across　Russia；
China；　and　the　Pacific。〃

〃I'm　glad　I　gave　him　something　to　eat。　　But　Gregor；　a　valet　in　a
hotel；　with　all　that　money！〃

〃The　red　tape。〃

〃What　a　dizzy　world　we　live　in；　Cutty！〃

〃Dizzy　is　the　word。〃　Cutty　sighed。　　His　yarn　had　passed　a　very　shrewd
censor。　　〃Karlov　feels　it　his　duty　to　kill　off　all　his　countryman
who　do　not　agree　with　his　theories。　　He　wanted　these　funds　here；　but
Hawksley　was　too　clever　for　him。　　Remember；　now；　not　a　word　of　this
to　Hawksley。　　I　tell　you　this　in　confidence。〃

〃I　promise。〃

〃You'll　have　to　spend　the　night　here。　　It's　round　four；　and　the　power
has　been　shut　off。　　There's　the　stairs；　but　it　would　be　dawn　before
you　reach　the　street。〃

〃Who　cares？〃

〃I　do。　　I　don't　believe　you're　in　a　good　mood　to　send　back　to　that
garlicky　warren。　　I　wish　to　the　Lord　you'd　leave　it！〃

〃It's　difficult　to　find　anything　desirable　within　my　means。　　Rents
are　terrifying。　　I'll　sleep　on　the　divan。　　A　rug　or　a　blanket。　　I'm
a　silly　fool；　I　suppose。〃

〃You　can　have　a　guest　room。〃

〃I'd　rather　the　divan；　less　scandalous。　　Cutty；　I　forgot。　　He　played
for　me。〃

〃What？　　He　did？〃

〃I　had　to　run　out　of　the　room　because　some　things　he　said　choked　me
up。　　Didn't　care　whether　he　died　or　not。　　He　was　even　lonelier　than
I。　　I　lay　down　on　the　divan；　and　then　I　heard　music。　　Funny；　but
somehow　I　fancied　he　was　calling　me　back；　and　I　had　to　hang　on　to
the　divan。　　Cutty；　he　is　a　great　violinist。〃

〃Are　you　fond　of　music？〃

〃I　am　mad　about　it！　　I'm　always　running　round　to　concerts；　and　I'd
walk　from　Battery　to　Bronx　to　hear　a　good　violinist。〃

Fiddles　and　Irish　hearts。　　Swiftly　came　the　vision　of　Hawksley
fiddling　the　heart　out　of　this　lonely　girl　…　if　he　had　the　chance。
And　he；　Cutty；　was　going　to　fascinate　her　…　with　what？　　He　rose　and
took　her　by　the　shoulders；　bringing　her　round　so　that　the　light　was
full　in　her　face。　　Slate…blue　eyes。

〃Kitty；　what　would　you　say　if　I　kissed　you？〃　　Inwardly　he　asked：
〃Now；　what　the　devil　made　me　say　that？〃

The　sinister　and　cynical　idea　leaped　from　its　ambush。　　〃Why；　Cutty；
I　…　I　don't　believe　I　should　mind。　　It's　…　it's　you！〃　　Vile　wretch
that　she　was！

Cutty；　noting　the　lily　succeeding　the　rose；　did　not　kiss　her。　　Fate
has　a　way　of　reversing　the　illogical　and　giving　it　logical　semblance。
It　was　perfectly　logical　that　he　should　not　kiss　her；　and　yet　that
was　exactly　what　he　should　have　done。　　The　fatherliness　of　the
salute　…　and　he　couldn't　have　made　it　anything　else　…　would　have
shamed　Kitty's　peculiar　state　of　mind　out　of　existence　and　probably
sent　back　to　its　eternal　sleep　that　which　was　strangely　reawaking
in　his　lonely　heart。

〃Forgive　me；　Kitty。　　That　wasn't　exactly　nice　of　me；　even　if　I　was
trying　to　be　funny。〃

She　tore　away　from　him；　flung　herself　upon　the　divan；　her　face　in
the　pillows；　and　let　down　the　dam。

This　wild　sobbing　…　apparently　without　any　reason　terrified　Cutty。
He　put　both　hands　into　his　hair；　but　he　drew　them　out　immediately
without　retaining　any　of　the　thinning　gray　locks。　　Done　up；　both　of
them；　that　was　the　matter。　　He　longed　to　console　her；　but　knew　not
what　to　say　or　how　to　act。　　He　had　not　seen　a　woman　weep　like　this
in　so　many　years　that　he　had　forgotten　the　remedies。

Should　he　call　the　nurse？　　But　that　would　only　add　to　Kitty's
embarrassment；　and　the　nurse　would　naturally　misinterpret　the
situation。　　He　couldn't　kneel　and　put　his　arms　round　her；　and　yet
it　was　a　situation　that　called　for　arms　and　endearments。　　He　had
sense　enough　to　recognize　that。　　Molly's　girl　crying　like　that；　and
he　able　to　do　nothing！　　It　was　intolerable。　　But　what　was　she
weeping　about？

Covering　the　divan　was　a　fine　piece　of　Bokhara　embroidery。　　He　drew
this　down　over　Kitty　and　tucked　her　in；　turned　off　the　light；　and
proceeded　to
his　bedroom。

Kitty's　sobs　died　eventually。　　There　was　an　occasional　hiccup。　　That；
too；　disappeared。　　To　play　…　or　even　think　of　playing　…　a　game　like
that！　　She　was　despicable。　　A　silly　little　fool；　too；　to　suppose
that　so　keen　a　mind　as　Cutty's　would　not　see　through　the　artifice！
What　was　happening　to　her　that　she　could　let　such　a　thought　into　her
head？

By　and　by　she　was　able　to　pick　up　Cutty's　narrative　and　review　it。
Not　a　word　about　the　drums　of　jeopardy；　the　mark　of　the　thong
round　Hawksley's　neck。　　Hadn't　she　let　him　know　that　she　knew　the
author　of　that　advertisement　offering　to　buy　the　drums；　no
questions　asked？　　Ve