"Well," she said, quietly, "have you nothing to say?"
Clarice, now on her feet, looked at the gaudy6 comfort of the tiny room, at the Oriental draperies and ornaments7, at the Persian praying mats, at herself in the glass, tall, slim, and boyish, in her masculine attire8, and then her gaze came back to the graceful9 woman in the maize-hued tea-gown. Zara met her gaze with insolence10, and a smile curved the red beauty of her full lips. "Have you nothing to say?" she repeated, and the question sounded like a challenge.
"A great deal," retorted Clarice, nerving herself for the battle; "in spite of this dress I am a woman, and therefore can use my tongue."
"How do you know that I wish to conquer you?"
"You would not be here else. I can guess why you have come; to save Ferdy from becoming what you no doubt call--my prey12, Bah! As if Ferdy was worth it."
"He must be worth something," said Clarice, dryly, "or you would not wish to marry him."
"Oh, I explained that," retorted Zara, lightly, and dusting one hand with the other. "I explained, if you remember, when I still took you to be Ferdy himself. I am always frank with the boy, and he knows, as you do now, Miss Baird, that I only wish to marry him for--shall we say professional purposes? I like him--oh, yes. He is handsome and very charming, when he chooses. Also he is sure of a certain income, even though it is a small one, and not available for two years. I can manage Ferdy, and that is necessary when a woman wants her own way on all occasions, as I do. I might do worse than marry your brother, don't you think so?"
"Certainly I do," answered Clarice, now quite composed, and resuming her seat; "only you shall not marry Ferdy, and use him as a cat's-paw for your respectability."
"Be polite, if you please," said the dancer, frowning; "I am polite to you, and desire the return compliment. My respectability is like that of Cæsar's wife--above suspicion. You see," with a gay laugh, "that in spite of my trifling13 education, I have some classical knowledge. Come, let us talk. You have much to say, and so have I. Will you have a cigarette? No. And in spite of smoking when you came into this room? Oh, I see. There is no need to keep up your manly14 pose. You look very well. Even handsomer than Ferdy, though I really was taken in, as my mother was. Dear me." Zara lighted a cigarette, and lay back in a deep armchair, puffing15 smoke, with her hands clasped behind her head. "What will she say when she hears that Miss Clarice Baird has been masquerading here, as her brother."
"She will say nothing," answered Clarice, coolly, "for the very simple reason that she will never know."
"Oh, yes. She will know from me, and all the inhabitants of Crumel will know from her. My mother is an excellent town crier."
"You carry it off very well," said Clarice, dryly; "but I am not quite so weak as Ferdy, remember."
"I grant that. I respect you more than I do him. He would never have ventured upon such a bold step as you have taken. I should like to know exactly why you ventured."
"You explained yourself a few minutes ago. I want to save Ferdy."
"My dear, he isn't worth it--he isn't worth more than that"--and Zara flicked16 the grey ash off her cigarette. "Will you have some fizz? No! A cigarette, then? No! Really," with a shrug, "you are not much of a man, my dear. I beg pardon for the familiarity; in that dress you look so like Ferdy that I make mistakes."
"On purpose. You are a clever woman, Miss Dumps."
"I am, but not that name, please. Twine17 is my name, and Ferdy will marry me as Sarah Twine. I prefer to be called Zara, or Butterfly, myself. The other name is so plebeian18; but then, I am a very common person."
"And a very clever one," said Clarice again, glancing at the gimcrack French clock on the draped mantelpiece; "but we are losing time, and I have to get back to my hotel. How did you recognise me?"
"Ah!" Zara clapped her hands. "Was not that smart of me? You will say yes. But you are wrong. It was chance--the chance upon which you did not reckon. It was ingenious of you to send Ferdy to Gattlinsands to get him out of the way, but it did not occur to you that Ferdy might write." She picked up an envelope from the table and threw it across to Clarice. "Here. It has just arrived."
Clarice threw the letter back. "There is no need. I recognise Ferdy's writing on the envelope. I don't wish to know how he writes to you."
"In a perfectly19 proper way, I assure you," said Zara, coolly; "I don't allow that child to be too familiar--it breeds contempt, you know. I have had too much of that sort of thing before I became famous, so I don't want another dose."
"So you knew that I was not Ferdy," said Clarice, slowly.
"Not at first; not until, by chance, I opened that envelope. I started, as you saw, and then came across to look at your arm. As the name--my name, Zara--was not tattooed20 there, I guessed at once that you were not Ferdy, and that you could be none other than Miss Baird, the double of my dear sweet boy."
"Spare me the adjectives," said Clarice, coldly.
"I'm sparing you a great deal, I think," said Zara, viciously; "by what right do you thrust yourself into my affairs?"
"By the right of a sister's love."
"Bah! I don't believe that there is such a thing. Certainly, so far as Ferdy is concerned, there isn't brotherly love on his part. He would sell you for a five-pound note."
Clarice felt a pang21, for she knew how truly the dancer spoke22. "I agree with you there," she replied, sadly.
"My dear, he isn't worth it," said Zara, in a softer tone. "Well?"
"Well?" Clarice looked up.
"Speak away," said Zara, impatiently; "I'm all attention. What do you want to ask me?"
"Ah, now we are coming to business."
"About time," interpolated the other woman.
"Oh, I shall dispose of my business very shortly," said Clarice, sharply; "You want to marry Ferdy. To gain your ends, you told Prudence23 Clarke a lie about her father."
Zara was quite unmoved, and blew smoke through her delicate nostrils24. "Prudence has told you, then?"
"Yes. You forced her to send away Ferdy, to save her father."
"I did. I want Ferdy to myself, and I have no particular reason to desire the hanging of Mr. Clarke."
"You couldn't hang him if you tried," retorted Clarice, angrily.
"Oh, yes, I could. Suppose--for the sake of argument--that I went to Inspector25 Tick, of Crumel, with my story of what I saw."
"You saw nothing."
Zara cast a surprised look at Clarice. "Well, I suppose it is to your interest to decline to believe. Nevertheless, what I told Prudence is true for all that."
Zara threw away her cigarette, and rose quietly.
"I really did," she said, in her most decisive tone. "My mother was ill, and I went out for sal volatile27. It was a mere28 chance, of course, that I should be out on that night of all nights. On any other night--at any other time, even--I should have seen nothing. But the Cosmic Powers, for their own ends, and for my benefit, I presume, brought me abreast29 of The Laurels, when Mr. Clarke was skipping out of the window."
Zara looked at her swiftly. "Oh, I am not prepared to say that; and I beg to remind you that I am not in the witness-box."
"Which means that you cannot swear to the truth of your story."
"Yes, I can; but I can't swear that Mr. Clarke is the murderer. It certainly looks as though he were guilty, but----" Zara paused.
"But you credit Osip with the crime?"
"The jury did--the police do--the papers do--public opinion does. I can't lay claim to be more clever than others."
Clarice looked at her keenly. "Yes, you can, and you do. I believe your story of Mr. Clarke coming out of the room. But as to his guilt----"
"Pardon me. I say nothing about that," interrupted Zara; "but if Prudence sent Ferdy away at my bidding, it shows that she believes her father to be guilty."
Clarice was too clever to relate the other evidence upon which Prudence believed her father to be guilty. "You certainly coerced31 that poor girl into thinking that there was danger to her father, should the story of his midnight visit become known."
"It never will," replied Zara, carelessly. "Prudence has given up Ferdy, and I am going to marry Ferdy. There's no more to be said."
"There is this--that Ferdy shall not marry you." Zara rose and put her hands behind her back. "He shall."
Clarice rose and faced her. "He shall not"; and for at least one minute the two women faced one another defiantly32. "What can you do?" inquired Zara, at length, and annoyed because she could not sustain the gaze of her visitor.
"I can go to the police, and say that you employed Osip."
"Not knowing that he was Osip," retorted the dancer, her breath coming quick and sharp. "If I had known, I should have handed him over to the authorities."
"Indeed, and what would become of your accusation33 of Mr. Clarke?"
"I don't accuse Mr. Clarke. He's a bore--at least, he was when I attended his rotten old Sunday School--but I don't say that he is a murderer. However, you can tell the police about Osip, and I'll tell them about Clarke. Then we shall see."
"Very good." Clarice moved towards the door. "There's no more to be said. Good-night."
Zara stood for one moment with clenched34 hands and a frown on her pretty, babyish face, which could look so strong at times, and which deceived men into thinking her a mere toy-woman. She had not expected Clarice to take her at her word, and thus had lost a move in the game. In spite of her bravado35, she had no desire that the Crumel police, or the London detectives, should know about Osip. It would be a good advertisement in one way, and yet, in another, it might do her harm with the managers. She had really been ignorant that the survivor36 of the famous Purple Fern Triumvirate was acting37 with her. But who would believe in her innocence38, did the fact become public property? With a swift movement she placed herself between Clarice and the door.
"No. I take back what I said. You must not tell the police about Osip--it would do me harm."
"Very good. I'll hold my tongue, if you will be silent about my masquerade in this dress."
"In a way, yes--for my promised husband, since he would not like any one to know of my adventure. For myself, I am not afraid, as I have done nothing wrong."
"You are stronger than Ferdy," said the dancer, suddenly.
"I should hope so," replied Clarice, contemptuously; "Ferdy is a reed--a piece of putty. I wonder that a clever woman, such as you are, wants to marry so weak a man."
"It is because he is weak that I wish him to become my husband," said Zara, quickly. "I wish to marry, so as to have a protector in my public life, as I am sick of all these fops who come round me. But I do not wish to wed40 a fireside tyrant41, and so--" she stretched out her arms in a French fashion and with a careless shrug. "I will hold my tongue," she went on, "not even my mother will ever know that you are really Clarice Baird. As to Osip--what will you do?"
"I shall say nothing at present," replied Clarice, after a moment's thought, "but you must be aware that it will not do to allow such a man to live. He will only commit more murders."
"I suppose so. What a devil the man is. Yet, you know, as Brown he really was rather nice. Ugh!" Zara shivered again. "I am not a silly fainting woman, but it turns me cold to think how often I have been in his company. He might have killed me."
Clarice took a cigarette out of the silver box and lighted up. "I must be going now," she said, quietly, "and so I have to keep up my pretence42 of being a man. But one last word. We understand one another."
"Yes," said Zara, promptly43. "I keep silent about Clarke, and you about Osip. Of course, also, I marry Ferdy."
"No," said Clarice, determinedly44. "I won't leave this house until I have your promise to give up Ferdy."
"To Prudence Clarke?" sneered the dancer. "She won't have him."
"Yes, she will. She loves Ferdy and Ferdy loves her."
"If the weak affection of Ferdy can be called love," said Zara, derisively45. "But Prudence won't marry him, so long as she believes that her father is guilty."
"But he is not."
"I don't say that."
"Then he is," said Clarice, daring her. "I don't say that, either."
"Then what do you say?"
"I say that we had better leave things as they are, and that you will please me by coming to my wedding with Ferdy."
"You must give my brother up."
"You've said that so often, Miss Baird. But saying it won't make me change my mind. Besides, as I said before, Ferdy isn't worth it. He's an ass--and worse."
"Worse? What do you mean?"
Zara looked into the other woman's eyes. "Come to the door," she said, taking Clarice by the arm. When in the hall, she helped the girl on with her fur coat, gave her the silk hat, and placed the silver-knobbed cane46 in her hand. Then she led her to the door of the flat. All this Clarice suffered in silence, wondering what was coming. "Good-night," said Zara, when Clarice was on the mat.
"But what do you say about Ferdy?" asked Clarice, quickly.
"I see I must tell you all," sighed the dancer. "No, I'll let you find out for yourself." She bent her head and whispered. "Search Ferdy's bedroom at The Laurels."
"But," began Clarice, impatiently, only to find herself talking to the panels of the door. Zara had shut it abruptly47, and left the disguised girl standing48 irresolutely49 on the mat. Clarice hesitated, and wondered if it would not be better to insist upon the door being opened again. But on second thoughts she went down the stairs, and drove back to her hotel. The long evening and the battle with Zara had worn out her strong nerves. Clarice passed a wakeful night. She wondered what Zara meant when she had told her to search Ferdy's bedroom. It could not be possible that Ferdy had anything to do with the crime, as he had been locked in on that night. Also, if Zara knew that Ferdy was guilty, she certainly would not marry him. There seemed to be no answer to the questions suggested by Zara's last remark. Clarice, therefore, tried to sleep, resolving to return to Crumel the next day and search the bedroom, as Zara had told her. She trembled to think what she might discover.
Next morning the false Mr. Ferdinand Baird ate his breakfast, paid his bill, and drove to Liverpool Street Station to catch the ten o'clock train. In the tweed suit Clarice looked wonderfully handsome and distinguished50, and as she adopted a manly air, no one had any suspicion that the good-looking young man was really a beautiful woman. She managed to get a first-class to herself, and thus escaped any chance of recognition. But on the Crumel platform she was greeted as Mr. Baird, and acknowledged the greetings calmly. On reaching the house, she found the French window open, and no servants about. In a few minutes she was safe in her own bedroom, and was dressing51 herself again in her woman's garb52. Mrs. Rebson appeared.
"It's all right, deary. No one thinks but what you're ill. How did you get along?"
"Very well, Nanny. I'll tell you all later. Don't let any of the servants come upstairs for at least an hour."
"What do you wish to do?"
"I'll tell you later. Leave me alone for the present."
"Yes," said Clarice, lying to save pain to that faithful old heart; "I think Ferdy is safe, Nanny. Now go."
Mrs. Rebson, quite satisfied, departed, and kept the servants downstairs, according to her instructions. Clarice went at once to Ferdy's room, and began to search. For twenty minutes she was unsuccessful, as she came across nothing suspicious. It was a difficult search, as she did not know what to look for. But she judged that it might be a letter or a blood-stained shirt, or something likely to implicate54 her brother in the crime. Several times she stopped turning out drawers and examining the wardrobe to laugh at the folly55 which possessed56 her to believe in Zara's lies. But some feeling that there might be truth in the dancer's hint made her search on. And yet Clarice could not believe that Ferdy, whom she had locked in this very room, had anything to do with so awful a crime. Let alone the fact that Ferdy, although foolish, was not wicked.
But the end came at last, and she found what she sought--and what she sought was evidence implicating57 Ferdy. In a small drawer, wrapped up carefully in an old silk tie, the girl found a small india-rubber stamp. With a wildly beating heart, she dipped this in water to moisten it, and pressed hard on a scrap58 of shaving paper. She removed the stamp, and found on the paper a faint impression of the Purple Fern.
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1
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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10
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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15
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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16
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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pang
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| n.剧痛，悲痛，苦闷 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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volatile
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| adj.反复无常的，挥发性的，稍纵即逝的，脾气火爆的；n.挥发性物质 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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coerced
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| v.迫使做( coerce的过去式和过去分词 )；强迫；（以武力、惩罚、威胁等手段）控制；支配 | |
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defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bravado
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| n.虚张声势，故作勇敢，逞能 | |
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survivor
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| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wed
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| v.娶，嫁，与…结婚 | |
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tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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43
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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44
determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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45
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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46
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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47
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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48
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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49
irresolutely
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| adv.优柔寡断地 | |
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50
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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51
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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52
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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53
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
implicate
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| vt.使牵连其中，涉嫌 | |
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55
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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56
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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57
implicating
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| vt.牵涉，涉及（implicate的现在分词形式） | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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