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THE HILLMAN
THE HILLMAN
Author of "The Kingdom of The Blind" "Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo," Etc. WITH FRONTISPIECE By GEORGE AVISON A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Published by Arrangement with Little, Brown & Company A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Published by Arrangement with Little, Brown & Company Copyright, 1917 , By Little, Brown, and Company . All rights reserved Published, January, 1917 Reprinted, January, 1917 (twice) February, 1917 (twice) March, 1917; April, 1917...
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THE HILLMAN I
THE HILLMAN I
Louise, self-engrossed, and with a pleasant sense of detachment from the prospective inconveniences of the moment, was leaning back among the cushions of the motionless car. Her eyes, lifted upward, traveled past the dimly lit hillside, with its patchwork of wall-enclosed fields, up to where the leaning clouds and the unseen heights met in a misty sea of obscurity. The moon had not yet risen, but a faint and luminous glow, spreading like a halo about the topmost peak of that ragged line of hills
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II
II
Louise, with a heavy, silver-plated candlestick in her hand, stood upon the uneven floor of the bedroom to which she had been conducted, looking up at the oak-framed family tree which hung above the broad chimney-piece. She examined the coat of arms emblazoned in the corner, and peered curiously at the last neatly printed addition, which indicated Stephen and John Strangewey as the sole survivors of a diminishing line. When at last she turned away, she found the name upon her lips. "Strangewey!"
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III
III
Louise awoke the next morning filled with a curious sense of buoyant expectancy. The sunshine was pouring into the room, brightening up its most somber corners. It lay across the quilt of her bed, and seemed to bring out the perfume of lavender from the pillow on which her head reposed. Aline, hearing her mistress stir, hastened at once to the bedside. "Good morning, madame !" Louise sat up and looked around her, with her hands clasped about her knees. "Tell me everything, Aline," she said. "Hav
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IV
IV
The churchyard gate was opened and closed noisily. They both glanced up. Stephen Strangewey was coming slowly toward them along the flinty path. Louise, suddenly herself again, rose briskly to her feet. "Here comes your brother," she said. "I wish he wouldn't glower at me so! I really am not such a terrible person as he seems to think." John muttered a word or two of polite but unconvincing protest. They stood together awaiting his approach. Stephen had apparently lost none of his dourness of th
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V
V
The prince, who had just been joined by Stephen, had descended from his car and was waiting in the road when Louise and John approached. He came a few paces forward to meet her, and held out both his hands. "My dear wandering guest!" he exclaimed. "So I have found you at last! What shall I say to this mishap which has robbed me of so many hours of your visit? I am too happy, though, to know that you have suffered no personal inconvenience." "Thanks to the great kindness of my hosts," Louise repl
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VI
VI
Once more that long, winding stretch of mountain road lay empty under the moonlight. Three months had passed, and none of the mystery of the earlier season in the year remained. The hills had lost their canopy of soft, gray mist. Nature had amplified and emphasized herself. The whole outline of the country was marvelously distinct. The more distant mountains, as a rule blurred and uncertain in shape, seemed now to pierce with their jagged summits the edge of the star-filled sky. Up the long slop
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VII
VII
The great French dramatist, dark, pale-faced, and corpulent, stood upon the extreme edge of the stage, brandishing his manuscript in his hand. From close at hand, the stage manager watched him anxiously. For the third time M. Graillot was within a few inches of the orchestra-well. "If you would pardon me, M. Graillot," he ventured timidly, "the footlights are quite unprotected, as you see." Graillot glanced behind him and promptly abandoned his dangerous position. "It is you, ladies and gentleme
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VIII
VIII
Those first few sentences, spoken in the midst of a curious little crowd of strangers, seemed to John, when he thought of his long waiting, almost piteously inadequate. Louise, recognizing the difficulty of the situation, swiftly recovered her composure. She was both tactful and gracious. "Do tell me how you got in here," she said. "No one is allowed to pass the stage door at rehearsal times. Mr. Faraday, to whom I will introduce you in a moment, is a perfect autocrat; and Mr. Mullins, our stage
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IX
IX
The first few minutes that John spent in Louise's little house were full of acute and vivid interest. From the moment of his first meeting with Louise upon the moonlit Cumberland road, during the whole of that next wonderful morning until their parting, and afterward, through all the long, dreaming days and nights that had intervened, she had remained a mystery to him. It was amazing how little he really knew of her. During his journey to town, he had sat with folded arms in the corner of his co
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X
X
The Prince of Seyre handed his hat and stick to the parlor maid and seated himself upon the divan. "I should be very sorry," he said politely, as the maid left the room, "if my coming has hastened the departure of your visitors." "Not in the least," Louise assured him. "They were leaving when you were announced. Sophy and I are taking Mr. Strangewey to a Bohemian restaurant and a music-hall afterward." "Fortunate Mr. Strangewey!" the prince sighed. "But, forgive me, why not a more dignified form
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XI
XI
The little room was gaudily decorated and redolent with the lingering odors of many dinners. Yet Louise, who had dined on the preceding evening at the Ritz and been bored, whose taste in food and environment was almost hypercritical, was perfectly happy. She found the cuisine and the Chianti excellent. "We are outstaying every one else," she declared; "and I don't even mind their awful legacy of tobacco-smoke. Do you see that the waiter has brought you the bill, Mr. Strangewey? Prepare for a sho
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XII
XII
As they drove from Luigi's to Knightsbridge, Louise leaned back in her corner. Although her eyes were only half closed, there was an air of aloofness about her, an obvious lack of desire for conversation, which the others found themselves instinctively respecting. Even Sophy's light-hearted chatter seemed to have deserted her, somewhat to John's relief. He sat back in his place, his eyes fixed upon Louise. He was so anxious to understand her in all her moods and vagaries. He was forced to admit
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XIII
XIII
John's first caller at the Milan was, in a way, a surprise to him. He was sitting smoking an after-breakfast pipe on the following morning, and gazing at the telephone directory, when his bell rang. He opened the door to find the Prince of Seyre standing outside. "I pay you a very early visit, I fear," the latter began. "Not at all," John replied, taking the pipe from his mouth and throwing open the door. "It is very good of you to come and see me." The prince followed John into the little sitti
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XIV
XIV
After the departure of her guests, Louise seemed to forget the pressing appointment with her dressmaker. She stood before the window of her drawing-room, looking down into the street. She saw Faraday hail a taxicab and drive off by himself. She watched the prince courteously motion John to precede him into his waiting automobile. She saw the two men seat themselves side by side, and the footman close the door and take his place beside the chauffeur. She watched until the car took its place in th
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XV
XV
During the remainder of that afternoon and evening John was oppressed by a vague sense of the splendor of his surroundings and his companion's mysterious capacity for achieving impossibilities. Their visits to the tailors, the shirt-makers, the hosiers, and the boot-makers almost resembled a royal progress. All difficulties were waved aside. That night he dined, clothed like other men from head to foot, in the lofty dining room of one of the most exclusive clubs in London. The prince proved an a
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XVI
XVI
The reception-rooms of Seyre House, by some people considered the finest in London, were crowded that night by a brilliant and cosmopolitan assembly. For some time John stood by the prince's side and was introduced to more people than he had ever met before in his life. Presently, however, he was discovered by his friend Amerton. "Queer thing your being here, a friend of the prince and all that!" the young man remarked. "Where's Miss Sophy this evening?" "I haven't seen her," John replied. "I do
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XVII
XVII
"Well?" the prince asked, as he handed Aida Calavera to her place at his right hand. "I think not," she replied. He raised his eyebrows slightly. For a moment he glanced down the supper-table with the care of a punctilious host, to see that his guests were properly seated. He addressed a few trivialities to the musical-comedy star who was sitting on his left. Then he leaned once more toward the great dancer. "You surprise me," he said. "I should have thought that the enterprise would have commen
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XVIII
XVIII
Sophy Gerard sat in the little back room of Louise's house, which the latter called her den, but which she seldom entered. The little actress was looking very trim and neat in a simple blue-serge costume which fitted her to perfection, her hair very primly arranged and tied up with a bow. She had a pen in her mouth, there was a sheaf of bills before her, and an open housekeeping-book lay on her knee. She had been busy for the last half-hour making calculations, the result of which had brought a
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XIX
XIX
"There can be no possible doubt," Louise remarked, as she unfolded her napkin, "as to our first subject of conversation. Both Sophy and I are simply dying of curiosity to know about the prince's supper party." "It was very cheerful and very gay," John said. "Every one seemed to enjoy it very much." "Oh, la, la!" Sophy exclaimed. "Is that all you have to tell us? I shall begin to think that you were up to mischief there." "I believe," Louise declared, "that every one of the guests is sworn to sec
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XX
XX
Henri Graillot had made himself thoroughly comfortable. He was ensconced in the largest of John's easy chairs, his pipe in his mouth, a recently refilled teacup—Graillot was English in nothing except his predilection for tea—on the small table by his side. Through a little cloud of tobacco-smoke he was studying his host. "So you call yourself a Londoner now, my young friend, I suppose," he remarked, taking pensive note of John's fashionable clothes. "It is a transformation, beyond a doubt! Is it
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XXI
XXI
Early on the following morning John glided out of London in his two-seated racing-car, on his way to Bourne End. The white mist that hung over the Streets and parks and obscured the sky passed away as he left the suburbs behind him. With his first glimpse of the country came a welcome change. There were little flecks of blue in the firmament above him, a distinct if somewhat watery sunshine, and a soft buoyancy in the air, almost an anticipation of spring. John leaned back in his seat, filled wi
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XXII
XXII
John was awakened the next morning by the sound of rain against his window. He got out of bed and looked upon a scene of desolation. The clouds hung low, and rain was coming down in level sheets. The lawns and gardens which yesterday had had the air of waiting for the spring were to-day a sudden wilderness. There was a knock at the door, and the butler brought in his tea. "Lady Hilda sends her compliments, sir," he announced, "and as the morning is so unfavorable she will not rise until eleven o
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XXIII
XXIII
"This is very nearly my idea of perfect happiness," Sophy murmured, as she leaned across the table and listened idly while John ordered the dinner. "Give me very little to eat, John, and talk a great deal to me. I am depressed about myself and worried about everything!" "And I," he declared, "am just beginning to breathe again. I don't think I understand women, Sophy." "Wasn't your week-end party a success?" she asked. "Not altogether," he confessed; "but don't let's talk about it. Tell me what
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XXIV
XXIV
The next night Sophy acted as showman. Her part was over at the end of the first act, and a few minutes later she slipped into a seat by John's side behind the curtain. "What do you think of it so far?" she asked, a little anxiously. "It seems quite good," John replied cheerfully. "Some very clever lines, and all that sort of thing; but I can't quite see what it's all leading to." Sophy peered around the house from behind the curtain. "There isn't standing-room anywhere," she declared. "I don't
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XXV
XXV
The days and weeks drifted into months, and John remained in London. His circle of friends and his interests had widened. It was only his relations with Louise which remained still unchanged. Always charming to him, giving him much of her time, favoring him, beyond a doubt, more than any of her admirers, there was yet about her something elusive, something which seemed intended to keep him so far as possible at arm's length. There was nothing tangible of which he could complain, and this probati
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XXVI
XXVI
"I suppose," Sophy sighed, as they waited for a taxicab, "we shall spend the remainder of the evening in the usual fashion!" "Do you mind?" John asked. "No," she assented resignedly. "That play will end by making a driveling idiot of me. Only think for yourself! At first we had to rehearse an extra month to please M. Graillot. I never had more than a dozen lines to say, even before my part was practically cut out, but I had to be there every time. Now it has been running for I don't know how man
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XXVII
XXVII
Louise glanced at her watch, sat up in bed, and turned reproachfully toward Aline. "Aline, do you know it is only eleven o'clock?" she exclaimed. "I am very sorry, madame ," the latter hastened to explain, "but there is a gentleman down-stairs who wishes to see you. He says he will wait until you can receive him. I thought you would like to know." "A gentleman at this hour of the morning?" Louise yawned. "How absurd! Anyhow, you ought to know better than to wake me up before the proper time." "I
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XXVIII
XXVIII
Louise ate a very small luncheon, but—an unusual thing for her—she drank two glasses of wine. Just as she had finished, Sophy came in, with ink-stained fingers and a serious expression. "You silly child!" Louise exclaimed. "No one told me you were here. Have you had any lunch?" "Long ago," Sophy replied. "I have been finishing your accounts." Louise made a little grimace. "Tell me the worst," she begged. "You are overdrawn at your bank, your bills are heavier than ever this month, and there are
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XXIX
XXIX
Back again to his rooms, and, later on, once more to Louise's little house in Kensington; a few minutes' masterful pleading, and then success. Louise wrapped herself up and descended to the street by his side. For an hour or more John drove steadily westward, scarcely speaking more than a chance word. It was twilight when he brought the car to a standstill. Louise raised her veil and looked up. "Well?" she asked inquiringly. He pushed back the throttle on his steering-wheel and stopped the engin
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XXX
XXX
Eugène, Prince of Seyre, had spent the early part of that afternoon in a manner wholly strange to him. In pursuance of an order given to his majordomo immediately on his return from the club after lunch, the great reception rooms of Seyre House, the picture-gallery and the ballroom, were prepared as if for a reception. Dust-sheets were swept aside, masterpieces of painting and sculpture were uncovered, the soft brilliance of concealed electric lights lit up many dark corners. When all was ready,
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XXXI
XXXI
Jennings stood with a decanter in his hand, looking resentfully at his master's untasted wine. He shook his head ponderously. Not only was the wine untouched, but the Cumberland Times lay unopened upon the table. Grim and severe in his high-backed chair, Stephen Strangewey sat with his eyes fixed upon the curtained window. "There's nothing wrong with the wine, I hope, sir?" the man asked. "It's not corked or anything, sir?" "Nothing is the matter with it," Stephen answered. "Bring me my pipe." J
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XXXII
XXXII
John went back to town, telling himself that all had gone as well as he had expected. He had done his duty. He had told Stephen his news, and they had parted friends. Yet all the time he was conscious of an undercurrent of disconcerting thoughts. Louise met him at the station, and he fancied that her expression, too, although she welcomed him gaily enough, was a little anxious. "Well?" she asked, as she took his arm and led him to where her motor-car was waiting. "What did that terrible brother
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XXXIII
XXXIII
The reception in honor of the little company of French tragedians, at which almost the whole of the English stage and a sprinkling of society people were present, was a complete success. Louise made a charming hostess, and Sir Edward more than ever justified his reputation for saying the right thing to the right person at the right moment. The rooms were crowded with throngs of distinguished people, who all seemed to have plenty to say to one another. The only person, perhaps, who found himself
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XXXIV
XXXIV
The ten minutes passed very much too quickly. She was gone, and John, thrilled though he was through all his senses by the almost passionate fervor of her leave-taking, found himself once more confronted by that little black demon. He sat up in the car, which bore him quickly back toward his rooms; and although the sense of her presence, the delicate perfume, the empty place by his side, even a fallen flower from her gown, were still there, the unrest seemed sharper. There was something about al
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XXXV
XXXV
The little place was unexpectedly crowded when John entered, after having handed his hat and coat to a vestiaire . A large supper-party was going on at the further end, and the dancing space was smaller than usual. The maître d'hôtel was escorting John to a small table in a distant corner, which had just been vacated, when the latter heard his name suddenly called by a familiar voice. Sophy, who had been dancing, abandoned her partner precipitately and came hurrying up to John with outstretched
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XXXVI
XXXVI
Toward nine o'clock on the following morning John rose from a fitful sleep and looked around him. Even before he could recall the events of the preceding night he felt that there was a weight pressing upon his brain, a miserable sense of emptiness in life, a dull feeling of bewilderment. Although he had no clear recollection of getting there, he realized that he was in his own sitting room, and that he had been asleep upon the couch. He saw, too, that it was morning, for a ray of sunlight lay ac
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XXXVII
XXXVII
Before the wide-flung window of her attic bedchamber, Sophy Gerard was crouching with her face turned westward. She had abandoned all effort to sleep. The one thought that was beating in her brain was too insistent, too clamorous. Somewhere beyond that tangled mass of chimneys and telegraph-poles, somewhere on the other side of the gray haze which hung about the myriad roofs, John and Louise were working out their destiny, speaking at last the naked truth to each other. Somehow or other, during
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XXXVIII
XXXVIII
It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the green logs that burned on the open hearth, and for the slow movements of Jennings as he cleared the table. Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper by his side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. Opposite to him, almost as grim, equally silent, sat John. "Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, John?" Stephen asked at last. "There was nothing doing," was the brief reply. That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or
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