The Betrayal of John Fordham. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

the apartment had been perfectly quiet. Were they certain that madame could not have left the hotel without being seen? It was not possible. She would have had to pass through the courtyard, and the concierge or an assistant was constantly on the watch, noting who came and who went. Then, how to account for the facts of her bedroom door being locked and of her not answering to my call? The servants could not account for it; the manager could not account for it. With profuse apologies he hazarded a question. Was madame subject to fainting fits? Was it that she had swooned? With my permission he would accompany me to the apartment, and together we could ascertain.

      We ascertained nothing; we discovered no clue to the mystery. The door defied all our efforts to open it, and no reply was given to our summons. The suspense was maddening.

      "See, monsieur," said the manager, stooping, and putting his eye to the key-hole, "the door is locked from within. The key is in the lock. Be tranquil; madame is safe; she has fallen into a sound sleep. I myself sleep so soundly that – "

      I interrupted him impatiently.

      "If my wife has fallen asleep she must be awakened."

      He did not see the necessity; if I would be patient madame would herself awake when she had slept enough; then all would be well.

      "My wife must be awakened," I repeated vehemently.

      "Undoubtedly," he then said, falling complacently into my humor. "If you insist, monsieur, madame must be awakened."

      "But how?" I cried, in a fever of anxiety, which with every passing moment grew more intense.

      "As monsieur says," he replied, with exasperating coolness, "but how?"

      "The lock must be forced."

      "A million pardons, monsieur. The lock of the door is of a particular kind. It is not a common lock – no, no. It was put on especially for a distinguished visitor, who frequently occupies this apartment. It is what is called a patent lock, and is the property of our distinguished visitor. I cannot consent that it shall be forced."

      "Then we will have a piece cut out of the door. By that means we can reach the key, and turn the lock from within."

      "Again a million pardons. The door is of oak; it was made for our distinguished visitor. I cannot consent, monsieur, that the door shall be destroyed."

      "Hang you! Stand aside!"

      I pushed him away, and applied my shoulder to the door. I was young, I was strong, but I might as well have set myself against a rock. The door held firm and fast, and the noise I made did not arouse Barbara. Even in the midst of my despair I heard the manager remark, "These eccentric English!" Finding my efforts vain, I beat the panels with my fists. A servant entered, and whispered to the manager.

      "Desist, monsieur," he said, stepping forward, "you are disturbing our visitors. It cannot be permitted. In the adjoining apartment is a sick gentleman. He has already inquired whether there is a fire or an earthquake. If monsieur pleases, there is another way.'

      "What is it? Quick – quick!"

      "The window of madame's room looks out upon a courtyard at the back. It is easily reached by a ladder. The night is warm; madame may have left her window unfastened – "

      I stopped any further explanation by hurrying him to the courtyard at the back. On the way he insisted upon informing me that the hotel was of the highest character and eminently respectable. No robbery had ever taken place in it; no crime had ever been committed within its walls. Madame was fatigued by her journey, and had probably taken an opiate. I should find her asleep in her bed quite safe – quite safe.

      "The ladder – the ladder!" I cried, in a frenzy. "Where is the ladder?"

      It was soon brought – though I thought it an age before it was fixed against the wall – and a porter commenced to ascend. But I pulled him back with a rough hand, and said I would go up myself. "These eccentric English!" I heard the manager again remark to those assembled around him.

      His surmise was correct. The window was closed but not fastened; I pushed it open and stepped into the room.

      It was dark, but by the light admitted through the open window I saw the form of my wife huddled upon the bed. I laid my hands upon her and called, "Barbara – dear Barbara!" A faint moan was the only response.

      "Great God!" I cried. "She is dying!"

      I swiftly lighted the gas, and the room was flooded with light. Then I discovered the horrible truth. An empty brandy bottle rolled from the bed to the floor, and on the dressing table was a corkscrew with the cork still in it. The cork was new, and the bright capsule by its side denoted that the bottle must have been full when it had been opened. I bent over Barbara's stupefied form, the fumes of liquor which tainted her hot breath were sickening. My wife was not dying. She was drunk!

      The whole room was in a state of disorder; the bed curtains were torn, articles of feminine attire were scattered about, brushes and combs and other toilet requisites had been swept from the table, a chair had been upset; but at that moment I took little note of these signs, my attention being centred upon the degrading human spectacle which lay before me on the bed – my wife, the woman I had idealized as an embodiment of purity and simplicity.

      I was not allowed to remain long undisturbed; I heard a smart rapping at the bedroom door, and I became instantly conscious that I had a new part to play. I closed and fastened the window, and drew the curtains across it, I lowered the gas almost to vanishing point, and then, turning the key in the lock, I opened the door just wide enough to see the manager's face.

      "Madame is safe?" he inquired.

      "Quite safe," I replied.

      "As I said. Asleep?"

      "Yes, asleep."

      "As I said. There has been no crime or robbery?"

      "There has been no crime or robbery."

      "And madame is well?"

      "Quite well."

      "I trust you are satisfied, monsieur."

      "Perfectly satisfied."

      "Is anything more required?"

      "Nothing more."

      "No assistance of any kind? The chambermaid is here. Shall she attend to madame?"

      "Her assistance is not needed. Good-night."

      "Good-night, monsieur."

      As he and the attendants left the adjoining room, I heard him remark for the third time, "These eccentric English!"

      CHAPTER V

      The first thing I did was to securely bolt and lock every door, to darken every window that gave access to our rooms. I must be alone with my shame and my grief. No one must know – the secret of this vile, this unutterable disgrace must not escape, must not be whispered, must not be suspected. From the friends who had been present at the wedding ceremony I could not expect sympathy after the way in which they had been treated; from strangers I could hope for none; by friends and strangers alike I should be pointed at and derided. I must wear a false face to all the world – as false as the face my wife had worn to me during our courtship. For in the first flush of the frightful discovery I did not stop to palter with myself, I did not attempt to disguise the truth, to delude myself with the hope that this was a new experience in Barbara's character. The fatal truth fastened itself in my heart. Signs which had borne no baneful significance in the past were now suddenly and rightfully interpreted. I understood Maxwell's mocking words and laughter:

      "You want hardening, my boy, and you'll get it," he had said, Again, "Barbara is not in a condition to see anybody. When she is in that state, best leave her, old fellow. There's a hint for you in your matrimonial campaign." And then his last derisive exclamation, "What a jolly wedding day!" The meaning of the looks he and Barbara had exchanged on that day when we three were together after the ceremony, was now clear to me, as clear and withering as a blasting lightning stroke. She was a drunkard, and he was keeping the joke from me. His look conveyed the threat, "Be careful, or I will betray you." Aye, betray her before she betrayed herself! The momentary defiance in her eyes died away, and she trembled