Loe raamatut: «The Automobile Girls at Palm Beach: or, Proving Their Mettle Under Southern Skies», lehekülg 6
CHAPTER XII
MAUD REFUSES TO BE RESCUED
When the “Automobile Girls” chaperoned by Miss Sallie, descended to the hotel ball room that evening, where a hop was in progress, the orchestra was playing the “Blue Danube” and Maud and the Count de Sonde were waltzing together. The spectators seated along the wall smiled in spite of themselves for the count’s style of dancing was far from graceful. His idea of waltzing consisted in whirling his partner round and round, and as Maud was at least four inches taller than the count and very thin, the effect was indescribably ridiculous.
“How absurd the count looks!” Bab exclaimed to Ruth. “Just look at those high heels and that strutting walk! Do you suppose Maud Warren can really care for him?”
“No; I don’t think she cares for him at all,” Ruth returned. “It is the lure of his title that has fascinated Maud. The title, ‘Count de Sonde’ is like music in her ears.”
“Do you think Mr. Warren would disinherit Maud, if she married the count?” asked Bab.
Ruth shook her head. “Mr. Warren gave Maud half a million dollars in her own name a year ago,” Ruth explained. “So, you see, she is an heiress already. Besides, Mr. Warren would never forsake Maud. He simply adores her. I think he went off on that fishing trip with father just to keep from seeing Maud carry on. He thinks Aunt Sallie may be able to influence her while he is gone. But do look at Miss Sarah Stuart, Bab!”
Miss Sallie swept down the ball-room floor in a handsome black satin and jet evening gown, with Mrs. De Lancey Smythe in her wake.
There was the fire of battle in Miss Stuart’s eye. On the widow’s cheeks burned two flaming signals of wrath.
“Maud Warren was left in my care by her father, Mrs. Smythe,” declared Miss Sallie. “In Mr. Warren’s absence I forbid Maud’s going about unchaperoned with the Count de Sonde.”
“Miss Warren is not a child, Miss Stuart,” replied Mrs. De Lancey Smythe angrily. “If she chooses to go about with the count I hardly see how you can prevent it. The Count de Sonde is a noble, trustworthy young man.”
“Miss Warren shall not go with him against my wishes,” replied Miss Stuart quietly, “and I fail to see how the matter can possibly interest you.”
Mrs. De Lancey Smythe’s voice trembled with rage. “You appear to be excessively strict with Miss Warren, Miss Stuart,” she returned, “yet you allow your niece and her friends to associate, every day, with a woman who is entirely unknown to you, a woman about whom this entire hotel is talking.”
“Whom do you mean?” Miss Sallie demanded. She was exceedingly angry.
“Mean?” Mrs. De Lancey Smythe laughed mockingly. “I mean this so called Countess Sophia von Stolberg. She is no more a countess than I am. She is a fugitive and a swindler. She will be arrested as soon as there is sufficient evidence against her.”
The “Automobile Girls” had moved up close to Miss Sallie. They waited to hear what she would say in regard to the countess.
“I do not believe the countess to be an impostor. She is our friend,” replied Miss Stuart. “I think we need have no further conversation. Miss Warren will do as I request.” Without answering the other woman moved away with flashing eyes and set lips, leaving Miss Sallie in triumphant possession of the situation.
In a few moments Maud Warren came over to where Miss Sallie and the “Automobile Girls” were still standing.
“Maud, won’t you come up to our room to-night after the dance?” Ruth urged. “We thought it would be jolly to make some fudge in a chafing dish.”
“Can you cook?” laughed Maud. “How funny! It is awfully good of you to ask me to join you, but I have another engagement for this evening.”
“Maud,” said Miss Sallie firmly, “your father left you in my charge. I cannot permit you to keep an engagement with the Count de Sonde.”
Maud was speechless with astonishment. No one had ever forbidden her to do anything in her life. Her father had always tried persuasion and argument. Ruth’s eyes twinkled as she saw the effect Miss Sallie’s firmness had upon Maud. Greatly to her surprise Maud Warren answered quite meekly: “Very well, Miss Stuart. I will not see him if you do not wish it.”
The “Automobile Girls” breathed a sigh of relief. They had feared another battle between Miss Sallie and Maud.
“This is jolly!” exclaimed Maud Warren, an hour later. The five girls were in Ruth’s sitting-room. They were eating delicious squares of warm chocolate fudge.
“I am glad you are enjoying yourself,” replied Ruth. “We would be glad to see you often, but you always seem to be busy.”
Maud tried to look unconscious. “It’s the count’s fault. The poor fellow has a dreadful crush on me,” she sighed.
“Do you care for him?” asked Barbara bluntly.
Maud simpered. “I really don’t know,” she replied. “I think the Count de Sonde has a beautiful soul. He tells me I have a remarkable mind – such sympathy, such understanding!”
Ruth choked over a piece of fudge. The other girls seemed to regard her accident as a tremendous joke. Maud was entirely unconscious that she had anything to do with their merriment.
“Then you really like the count very much!” exclaimed Mollie, opening her pretty blue eyes so wide that Maud was amused.
“You dear little innocent thing!” returned Miss Warren. “Of course I think the count a very interesting man. I don’t deny he has taken my fancy. But as for being in love with him – well, that is another thing.”
“Do you really know anything about the count, Maud?” asked Ruth. “Your father doesn’t approve of him, and don’t you think he knows best?”
“Oh, father never approves of any of my friends,” complained Maud Warren impatiently. “But Mrs. De Lancey Smythe is on my side. She likes the count.”
“But do you know much about Mrs. De Lancey Smythe?” Ruth went on.
Maud was nettled. “Mrs. De Lancey Smythe is a Virginian, and belongs to an old southern family,” she returned.
The “Automobile Girls” looked uncomfortable. It was Ruth who finally spoke.
“I hope you won’t be angry, Maud. It is only because we like you that I am going to tell you something you ought to know. Some one told me to warn you to be careful.”
“Careful about what?” cried Maud, though her flushed face betrayed the answer she expected.
“The Count de Sonde,” replied Ruth.
“But what have you heard against him?” demanded Maud indignantly.
It was Ruth’s turn to flush. What had she heard? If only the countess had been a little less vague in her accusations against the count.
“I am afraid I don’t know anything very definite to tell you,” Ruth confessed, in an embarrassed tone. “Yet we have heard rumors about the count. Foreign noblemen are often fortune-hunters, you know.”
“My dear Ruth, the Count de Sonde is not in need of money,” protested Maud. “He is very wealthy. Only the other day he showed me a letter from his lawyer. It spoke of two hundred thousand francs. It is true the letter was written in French. But the count translated it for me. And then, of course, I know a little French myself.”
“Oh, well,” sighed Ruth, “perhaps we have no right to suspect him. But, Maud, I beg of you to go slowly. You may be mistaken in the count. Think how you would regret it if you were to marry him and find afterwards that he had deceived you.”
“Marry the count!” Maud’s tones expressed great astonishment, then she gave a satisfied laugh. “Don’t worry about my affairs. The count is a real nobleman,” she declared.
A knock sounded at the door, and a bellboy handed Ruth a note. It was addressed to Miss Warren. Ruth gave it to her. Maud opened it. A gratified smile overspread her face, then turning to the “Automobile Girls” she said: “Will you please excuse me, girls, I want to go up to my room for a little while. I will be back in a few minutes.”
The girls ate their fudge in silence for a time. Maud did not return.
“I wonder if Maud is coming back?” remarked Barbara, after a little. “Somehow, I am sorry for Maud. It must be dangerous to be so rich and so silly at the same time.”
“I am afraid Maud is hopeless,” Ruth contended. “I don’t believe it is going to do the slightest good for us to warn her against the count. I wonder if we could manage to save her in any other way?”
Miss Sallie came into the room. “Where is Maud Warren?” she demanded immediately.
The “Automobile Girls” could only explain Maud had gone to her room.
Miss Sallie rang the bell, and sent a maid to inquire for Maud.
The answer came back a few moments later. “Miss Warren had left the hotel for the evening with several friends.”
Miss Stuart said nothing. But the “Automobile Girls” knew Miss Sallie would never forgive Maud Warren for her disobedience.
The four girls were almost ready to say good night, when another light tap sounded at their door.
The girls lowered their voices. Perhaps Maud had lost heart, and had returned to them after all.
Barbara went to the door. It was Marian De Lancey Smythe who had knocked. She wished to speak with Bab for a moment.
Five minutes later Barbara returned to her friends, looking considerably mystified.
“Now, Barbara Thurston, what did Marian Smythe have to say to you?” demanded Mollie. “It is not fair, your having secrets with her from the rest of us.”
“Oh, Marian asked me if we were going to the countess’s to dinner to-morrow night,” Bab replied.
“What a strange question!” exclaimed Grace Carter. “I don’t see why she should care where we go to dinner.”
“Perhaps she had some plan or other on hand herself that she wanted us to take part in,” suggested Mollie.
Bab was silent.
“By the way,” exclaimed Ruth, “did you know I received a letter to-day from darling Olive Prescott? She and Jack have arrived in Paris, and have set up housekeeping in the dearest little flat in the Rue de Varennes. They live on the top floor, and Jack has the front room for his studio. Of course Olive declares Jack is the best husband in the world. He is painting Olive’s portrait for the Paris Salon, and working desperately hard so as to have it finished by April. Come, let’s go to bed.”
Just as Barbara was dropping off to sleep Ruth gave her a little shake.
“Tell me Barbara Thurston, what Marian De Lancey Smythe said to you in the hall!”
“I told you, child,” murmured Bab hesitatingly.
“Honor bright, did you tell us everything, Bab Thurston?”
“No-o-o, not everything,” admitted Bab. “This is exactly what Marian said: ‘Barbara are you going to dine with the countess to-morrow night?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied. Then she said: ‘You had better not go. But if you do go, come home early, and don’t ask me the reason, why.”
“We’ll go, sure as fate!” exclaimed Ruth. “No matter what Marian says.”
CHAPTER XIII
A SURPRISE PARTY
It had been a long day of uninterrupted pleasure for the “Automobile Girls” – one of those sparkling, brilliant days that seem to belong peculiarly to Florida in the early spring.
All morning the girls had cruised around the lake in a launch. Later in the day they had bathed in the salt water of the Atlantic. After luncheon they had played several sets of tennis; and, later Miss Sallie had taken them to the cocoanut grove to drink lemonade and listen to the music.
Miss Sallie had not spoken either to Maud Warren or to Mrs. De Lancey Smythe since the evening before. The two women had carefully avoided Miss Stuart. Once inside the cocoanut grove Bab’s sharp eyes soon discovered Maud, Mrs. Smythe and Marian seated at a table concealed by an enormous cluster of palms. They were deep in conversation. Mrs. Smythe was pouring wholesale flattery into Maud’s ears to which the foolish girl was listening eagerly.
Marian espied Barbara and came over to greet Miss Sallie and the “Automobile Girls.” She knew nothing of her mother’s difficulty with Miss Sallie.
“Marian,” whispered Bab, as her new friend sat down next to her, “why did you wish to know whether we were going to the countess’s to dinner to-night?”
“Why do you ask?” said Marian, looking a little frightened.
“Why it sounded to me as though you must have a reason for what you said,” argued Bab. “Were you trying to warn me about anything? Or, is it simply that you do not like the countess?”
“I think the countess is very fascinating,” was Marian’s only reply.
“Won’t you even tell me why you told us to come home early if we did go?” persisted Barbara.
Marian gave a forced laugh. “Oh, I was only giving you a little good advice about sitting up late. But just the same, I’m a very wise person and you had better take my advice.”
“What are you two girls whispering about?” asked Ruth gayly. “Never have secrets from your little friends. It hurts their feelings, dreadfully.”
“We aren’t having secrets,” responded Barbara. “That is not exactly. I’m only trying to persuade Marian to tell me something. But she’s a regular Sphinx.”
“Which would you rather be, a Sphinx or a chatterbox?” inquired Marian. “And if you would, why would you, and if thus, why, therefore and whereupon?”
“Fine!” exclaimed Ruth. “I never dreamed you could reel off nonsense like that, Marian.”
Marian laughed then rising said, “I suppose I shall have to go back to Mama. I only came over for a minute.” Her eyes again met Barbara’s, and she shook her head slightly, then nodding good-bye to the girls she crossed over to where her mother was still conversing with Maud.
“Why did she shake her head at you, Bab?”
“She says again that we must come home early from the villa, to-night, but she won’t tell me why,” replied Bab. “She evidently knows something that we don’t. She was even more mysterious to-day than she was last night. Do you think we had better go?”
“Go! Of course we will,” cried Ruth. “I don’t believe Marian has anything very serious on her mind.”
“Really, children,” interposed Miss Sallie in an annoyed tone, “if you begin to conjure up mystery over so simple a matter as a dinner invitation I shall feel obliged to keep you all at home. One would think I was chaperoning a party of young sleuths, instead of four normal girls out for a holiday.”
This remark was received with discreet silence, on the part of the four girls, and whatever their thoughts on Marian’s warning were they sternly repressed uttering them aloud during the remainder of the time spent in the grove.
At eight o’clock that night Miss Sallie and the “Automobile Girls” were seated about the countess’s table with only their hostess and her chaperon. There were no other guests at dinner.
“How delightful not to be bored by stupid men!” exclaimed the countess, smiling at her circle of guests. “And what a charming picture the young girls make, Madame de Villiers, do they not? There is not a black coat in our midst to mar the effect of our pretty light frocks. Let me see, Miss Stuart wears violet, dear Madame, gray. And the ‘Automobile Girls’ might represent the four seasons. Ruth, you may be Spring, in your pale green silk frock; little Mollie will have to play Summer in her corn colored gown; Bab’s scarlet frock makes me think of October; and Grace is our Snow Maiden in her white frock.”
The countess wore a beautiful gown of white messaline. Her exquisite face was radiant with child-like pleasure. During the dinner the room rang with her gay laughter. She had never seemed so young, so gracious, and so innocent as she appeared to the “Automobile Girls” that night.
At each plate the countess herself had placed a small bunch of freesias, whose delicate perfume filled the room.
“They are my favorite flowers,” the hostess explained gently, “because they remind me of my beloved Italy.”
At the close of dinner a bowl of bon-bons was passed around the table. There was a good deal of noise and confusion. The girls popped the crackers, drew out the mottoes and read them, and decorated themselves with the fancy paper caps. They were too absorbed in their own pleasure to think, or hear, or see, anything that might have been taking place outside the dining-room. Madame de Villiers, a military cap on her gray hair, looked as fierce and terrifying as a seasoned warrior.
Dinner over, the countess led the way into her drawing-room, where the laughter and gayety continued. Madame de Villiers played brilliantly on the piano. The young people danced until they were exhausted. Suddenly the young countess caught her train up over her arm, and ran out into the centre of the floor. At a nod from her, Madame de Villiers began to play the wild, passionate music of the Russian Mazurka. Then the countess danced. Again and again she went through the intricate and dramatic figures. Her audience was spellbound. No one noted the flight of time.
Finally Bab whispered to Ruth: “Don’t you think we had better go upstairs for our wraps? It is growing late.” The two girls slipped quietly away without a word.
Ascending the stairs to the countess’s sleeping room they gathered their arms full of evening coats and scarfs. On a little balcony just outside the window of the sleeping room crouched the figure of a man. His keen eyes watched Bab and Ruth intently as they made ready to leave the room and join their friends downstairs, entirely unconscious of the figure hiding so near to them.
On the first landing of the stairs, Bab stopped. Ruth was ahead.
“Go on, Ruth,” Barbara called down to her. “I have left my handkerchief on the dressing table. I will be with you in a minute.”
Bab ran quickly back to the room she had just left. Her soft satin slippers made no sound on the floor. It was almost impossible to hear her approach.
Bab paused at the half-open door of the bedchamber in horrified surprise. Inside the room that she and Ruth had just left a man bent over the countess’s desk. Her Russian leather writing-case was wide open. The man was running through her papers with a practised hand.
Bab could have turned and run downstairs again. The intruder would never have heard her. But, although Barbara shook with fear for a moment, she placed her wraps softly on the floor and stepped noiselessly back into the room. The man was still unaware of her presence. Bab’s eyes roved about the room in search of a weapon. Her hand resting for an instant on the dressing table, came in touch with something metallic and cold. It was a silver shoe horn, but Barbara gripped it eagerly, then she fastened her gaze upon the intruder. He was an old man with a shock of gray hair and a thick beard, that partially concealed the outline of his face. His lips were drawn back until his teeth showed and in his bent attitude he reminded Bab of a gigantic ape. Under the concentration of her gaze the strange apparition looked up and saw her as she stood unflinching, watching with alert eyes his slightest movement. Without uttering a sound the man began to move slowly toward her, his fierce eyes never for a moment leaving her face.
“What are you doing here?” Bab demanded bravely. “You are a thief!”
Instead of running away from him the girl started toward the man. As she did so she raised the shoe horn and pointed it at him. Had the light in the room not been turned low he must have discovered the trick. As it was the faint light, glinting on the polished metal gave it the appearance of a revolver. The ape-like figure began backing slowly toward the balcony. At the window he paused, as if debating whether he dared take the chance of leaping upon her. Bab settled the question for him by making a threatening move with the supposed weapon. The thief whirled, sprang out on the balcony and dropped to the ground.
Barbara ran to the window. She saw that he had disappeared, then the room began to whirl about her. She thought she was going to faint, for she felt her strength rapidly leaving her.
With a great effort she threw off the weakness that was overcoming her and looked out across the lawn.
During the early part of the evening a large motor boat cruiser, after having put her owner ashore at Palm Beach had dropped down and come to anchor for the night hard by the boathouse belonging to the villa occupied by Countess Sophia. Lights were twinkling from the port holes of the boat and her anchor light swayed listlessly at the stern. There were no other signs of life aboard the boat on the bow of which one at close range might have made out the word “Restless” in raised gold letters.
Barbara wondered if their terrible visitor had come from the boat lying there quietly on the moonlit waters.
Just then the buzz of excited voices was borne to her ears. She heard the Countess Sophia’s clear tones, then an excited little scream, mingled with the deep voice of Madame de Villiers raised in angry expostulation.
Still gripping her shoe horn Bab raced down the stairs, and parted the portières that hung between the drawing room and hall.
What she saw was like the tableau from a melodrama. Crowded close to the piano stood the Countess Sophia, while directly in front of her stood Madame de Villiers, thoroughly enraged and brandishing her gold-headed cane at two men who seemed about to seize the young countess. Clustered in a frightened group at one side of the room stood Miss Stuart, Mollie and Grace. Ruth was nowhere to be seen.
One of the men made a sudden stealthy move toward the countess.
“Stand back,” commanded Madame de Villiers.
Just then Ruth’s clear tones were heard outside the villa. “They’re in that room! Oh, hurry please!”
There was a sound of running feet and into the room darted two young men clad in white yachting clothes, and wearing officers’ caps.
“We’re just in time,” called one of the newcomers. “This is something in our line of sport. Stand aside, girls. We’ll soon have these fellows on the run.”
With this he grasped one of the men by the collar and dragging him to the open hall door, picked him up and threw him off the veranda onto the drive where he landed with a thud. A moment later his companion had disposed of the other offender in like manner.
“Watch them, Joe,” ordered the taller of the two yachtsmen. “If they try to enter the house again, call me. I guess we can give them all they’re looking for. I’m going inside to see if there are any more rascals who need attention.”
“Oh you brave boys!” exclaimed Madame de Villiers as the young man entered the drawing-room where the women were huddled together talking excitedly.
“I think the credit belongs to the young woman who had the presence of mind to go for help,” smiled the youth, bowing to Ruth.
“I had to do something!” exclaimed Ruth. “I saw your boat early in the evening, and when those two men came in here and began threatening the countess I felt that the only thing to do was to see if some one on the yacht would help us.”
“Did you see the other man?” asked Barbara anxiously. “He was old and white-haired and looked exactly like an ape. He was upstairs on the balcony, while I was in the countess’s room getting our wraps. Then I forgot my handkerchief. When I went back for it he was in the room. I frightened him away with a shoe horn. He thought it was a revolver. He dropped to the ground from the balcony and ran towards the yacht. I thought perhaps he belonged on the boat.”
“Not with us,” declared the yachtsman. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Tom Halstead and my friend out there on the veranda, is Joseph Dawson, engineer of the motor yacht ‘Restless’ which lies at anchor just off the shore. We belong to the ‘Motor Boat Club’ boys, but I doubt if you have ever heard of us before.”
Although Tom Halstead and Joe Dawson were strangers to the “Automobile Girls” they are well known to the majority of our readers. Born and brought up on the Maine coast the ocean was their play ground from early boyhood and their fondness for the sea led them to later perfect themselves in the handling of motor boats. These two youths with a number of other sturdy young men comprised the famous club of young yacht skippers and engineers, organized by a Boston broker and headed by Halstead as fleet captain, with Dawson as fleet engineer.
The reason for the appearance of the yacht “Restless” at this particular place and time is set forth in “The Motor Boat Club in Florida,” the fifth volume of the “Motor Boat Club Series.” That the two young men had responded instantly to Ruth’s call for help was in itself the best proof of the manliness and courage of the “Motor Boat” boys.
The countess who in the meantime had recovered from the first shock of the recent disturbance now presented Miss Stuart, Madame de Villiers and the “Automobile Girls” to Tom Halstead. A moment later Joe Dawson entered the room, and more introductions followed.
“Well, they’ve gone,” declared Dawson. “They picked themselves up very slowly and painfully and fairly slunk down the drive. I don’t imagine they will trouble you again to-night. However we’d better appoint ourselves as special watchmen about the grounds until morning. I do not wish to seem inquisitive but was the motive of these rascals common robbery?”
“The men did not wish money,” replied the countess slowly. “They wished to steal a certain paper I have in my possession in order to destroy it. That is why the old man was searching my writing case. But he did not find the paper, for I carry it about my person. Forgive me for being so mysterious, and believe that my reason for secrecy is one of grave importance.”
“There is nothing to forgive, Madam,” replied Captain Halstead courteously. “We are only too glad to have been of service to you and beg that you will continue to accept our services at least until to-morrow. Then I would advise you to procure a special officer to remain at the villa in case you should be annoyed further by these villains.”
“Thank you,” exclaimed the countess, with evident agitation. “I hardly think we shall be troubled again. I do not wish an officer to come here.”
“We must return to the hotel, Countess,” said Miss Stuart. “It is growing late and my brother will become uneasy about us.”
This time the women were assisted with their cloaks by the “Motor Boat” boys and no startling interruption occurred. Ruth ran down the drive a little ahead of the party to where her automobile stood. Then she uttered a sudden cry of dismay. All four tires had been cut.
“Oh the rascals!” she exclaimed. “How dared they do such a contemptible thing? We’ll have to go back to the villa and telephone for another car. Father will be so worried!”
An indignant babble of feminine voices ensued broken by the deeper tones of the two young men as the party turned to go back to the villa.
Just then a familiar sound was borne to their ears. It was the chug! chug! of a rapidly approaching automobile. A moment later the car rolled up the drive. “It’s Father!” Ruth exclaimed. “Oh, I’m so glad.”
“What seems to be the trouble, Sallie?” queried Mr. Stuart, springing from the car. “It’s after midnight. I grew worried when you didn’t return to the hotel at eleven, so decided I had better come out after you. I rather think we exceeded the speed limit too,” he laughed, turning to the chauffeur.
Then Ruth burst forth with an excited account of the night’s adventure. Mr. Stuart looked grave. “I shall send you an officer in the morning, Countess,” he said.
“These are the two young men who came so gallantly to our rescue, Mr. Stuart,” said the countess, turning to the “Motor Boat” boys who stood modestly in the background.
Mr. Stuart shook hands with both young men, thanking them for their prompt response to the call for help. “We should be pleased to have you dine with us to-morrow evening,” he said.
“Thank you,” responded the young captain, “but we shall weigh anchor in the morning.”
After bidding farewell to the two young men and good night to Madame de Villiers and the Countess Sophia, the “Automobile Girls” and Miss Sallie stepped into the car in which Mr. Stuart had driven to the villa.
“I’ll send a man out to put that other car in shape to-morrow,” he said to Ruth as they sped down the drive. “But, hereafter when this valiant band, known as the ‘Automobile Girls’ pays a visit to the Countess Sophia I shall insist upon accompanying them whether or not I am invited.”
