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THE TEMPTING OF TAVERNAKE
THE TEMPTING OF TAVERNAKE
CONTENTS BOOK ONE . CHAPTER I. DESPAIR AND INTEREST CHAPTER II. A TETE-A-TETE SUPPER CHAPTER III. AN UNPLEASANT MEETING CHAPTER IV. BREAKFAST WITH BEATRICE CHAPTER V. INTRODUCING Mrs. WENHAM GARDNER CHAPTER VI. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS CHAPTER VII. Mr. PRITCHARD OF NEW YORK CHAPTER VIII. WOMAN'S WILES CHAPTER IX. THE PLOT THICKENS CHAPTER X. THE JOY OF BATTLE CHAPTER XI. A BEWILDERING OFFER CHAPTER XII. TAVERNAKE BLUNDERS CHAPTER XIII. AN EVENING CALL CHAPTER XIV. A
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CHAPTER I. DESPAIR AND INTEREST
CHAPTER I. DESPAIR AND INTEREST
They stood upon the roof of a London boarding-house in the neighborhood of Russell Square—one of those grim shelters, the refuge of Transatlantic curiosity and British penury. The girl—she represented the former race was leaning against the frail palisading, with gloomy expression and eyes set as though in fixed contemplation of the uninspiring panorama. The young man—unmistakably, uncompromisingly English—stood with his back to the chimney a few feet away, watching his companion. The silence be
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CHAPTER II. A TETE-A-TETE SUPPER
CHAPTER II. A TETE-A-TETE SUPPER
Tavernake caught her up in New Oxford Street and fell at once into step with her. He wasted no time whatever upon preliminaries. “I should be glad,” he said, “if you would tell me your name.” Her first glance at him was fierce enough to have terrified a different sort of man. Upon Tavernake it had absolutely no effect. “You need not unless you like, of course,” he went on, “but I wish to talk to you for a few moments and I thought that it would be more convenient if I addressed you by name. I do
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CHAPTER III. AN UNPLEASANT MEETING
CHAPTER III. AN UNPLEASANT MEETING
It was a quarter past eleven and the theatres were disgorging their usual nightly crowds. The most human thoroughfare in any of the world's great cities was at its best and brightest. Everywhere commissionaires were blowing their whistles, the streets were thronged with slowly-moving vehicles, the pavements were stirring with life. The little crowd which had gathered in front of the chemist's shop was swept away. After all, none of them knew exactly what they had been waiting for. There was a ru
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CHAPTER IV. BREAKFAST WITH BEATRICE
CHAPTER IV. BREAKFAST WITH BEATRICE
The girl, awakened, perhaps, by the passing of some heavy cart along the street below, or by the touch of the sunbeam which lay across her pillow, first opened her eyes and then, after a preliminary stare around, sat up in bed. The events of the previous night slowly shaped themselves in her mind. She remembered everything up to the commencement of that drive in the taxicab. Sometime after that she must have fainted. And now—what had become of her? Where was she? She looked around her in ever-in
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CHAPTER V. INTRODUCING Mrs. WENHAM GARDNER
CHAPTER V. INTRODUCING Mrs. WENHAM GARDNER
A very distinguished client was engaging the attention of Mr. Dowling, Senior, of Messrs. Dowling, Spence & Company, auctioneers and estate agents, whose offices were situated in Waterloo Place, Pall Mall. Mr. Dowling was a fussy little man of between fifty and sixty years, who spent most of his time playing golf, and who, although he studiously contrived to ignore the fact, had long since lost touch with the details of his business. Consequently, in the absence of Mr. Dowling, Junior, w
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CHAPTER VI. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
CHAPTER VI. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
Tavernake sat a few hours later at his evening meal in the tiny sitting-room of an apartment house in Chelsea. He wore a black tie, and although he had not yet aspired to a dinner coat, the details of his person and toilet showed signs of a new attention. Opposite to him was Beatrice. “Tell me,” she asked, as soon as the small maid-servant who brought in their first dish had disappeared, “what have you been doing all day? Have you been letting houses or surveying land or book-keeping, or have yo
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CHAPTER VII. Mr. PRITCHARD OF NEW YORK
CHAPTER VII. Mr. PRITCHARD OF NEW YORK
Later in the evening, Beatrice and Tavernake traveled together in a motor omnibus from their rooms at Chelsea to Northumberland Avenue. Tavernake was getting quite used to the programme by now. They sat in a dimly-lit waiting-room until the time came for Beatrice to sing. Every now and then an excitable little person who was the secretary to some institution or other would run in and offer them refreshments, and tell them in what order they were to appear. To-night there was no departure from th
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CHAPTER VIII. WOMAN'S WILES
CHAPTER VIII. WOMAN'S WILES
At eleven o'clock the next morning, Tavernake presented himself at the Milan Court and inquired for Mrs. Wenham Gardner. He was sent at once to her apartments in charge of a page. She was lying upon a sofa piled up with cushions, wrapped in a wonderful blue garment which seemed somehow to deepen the color of her eyes. By her side was a small table on which was some chocolate, a bowl of roses, and a roll of newspapers. She held out her hand toward Tavernake, but did not rise. There was something
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CHAPTER IX. THE PLOT THICKENS
CHAPTER IX. THE PLOT THICKENS
The man whom Tavernake had left walking up and down the corridor lost no time in presenting himself once more at the apartments of Mrs. Wenham Gardner. He entered the suite without ceremony, carefully closing both doors behind him. It became obvious then that his deportment on the occasion of his previous appearance had been in the nature of a bluff. The air with which he looked across the room at the woman who watched him was furtive; the hand which laid his hat upon the table was shaking; ther
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CHAPTER X. THE JOY OF BATTLE
CHAPTER X. THE JOY OF BATTLE
They sat on the trunk of a fallen tree, in the topmost corner of the field. In the hedge, close at hand, was a commotion of birds. In the elm tree, a little further away, a thrush was singing. A soft west wind blew in their faces; the air immediately around them was filled with sunlight. Yet almost to their feet stretched one of those great arms of the city—a suburb, with its miles of villas, its clanging of electric cars, its waste plots, its rows of struggling shops. And only a little further
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CHAPTER XI. A BEWILDERING OFFER
CHAPTER XI. A BEWILDERING OFFER
Elizabeth stood with her hands behind her back, leaning slightly against the writing-table. The professor, with his broad-brimmed hat clinched in his fingers, walked restlessly up and down the little room. The discussion had not been altogether a pleasant one. Elizabeth was composed but serious, her father nervous and excited. “You are mad, Elizabeth!” he declared. “Is it that you do not understand, or will not? I tell you that we must go.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Where would you drag me to
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CHAPTER XII. TAVERNAKE BLUNDERS
CHAPTER XII. TAVERNAKE BLUNDERS
Tavernake felt that he had indeed wandered into an alien world as he took his place the following evening among the little crowd of people who were waiting outside the stage-door of the Atlas Theatre. These were surroundings to which he was totally unaccustomed. Two very handsome motor-cars were drawn up against the curb, and behind them a string of electric broughams and taxicabs, proving conclusively that the young ladies of the Atlas Theatre were popular in other than purely theatrical circle
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CHAPTER XIII. AN EVENING CALL
CHAPTER XIII. AN EVENING CALL
In the morning, when he left for the city, she was not down. When he came home in the evening, she was gone. Without removing his hat or overcoat, he took the letter which he found propped up on the mantelpiece and addressed to him to the window and read it. DEAR BROTHER LEONARD,—It wasn't your fault and I don't think it was mine. If either of us is to blame, it is certainly I, for though you are such a clever and ambitious young person, you really know very little indeed of the world,—not so mu
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CHAPTER XIV. A WARNING FROM Mr. PRITCHARD
CHAPTER XIV. A WARNING FROM Mr. PRITCHARD
Tavernake hesitated for a moment under the portico of the Milan Court, looking out at the rain which had suddenly commenced to descend. He scarcely noticed that he had a companion until the man who was standing by his side addressed him. “Say, your name is Tavernake, isn't it?” Tavernake, who had been on the point of striding away, turned sharply around. The man who had spoken to him was wearing morning clothes of dark gray tweed and a soft Homburg hat. His complexion was a little sallow and he
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CHAPTER, XV. GENERAL DISCONTENT
CHAPTER, XV. GENERAL DISCONTENT
Elizabeth did not at once rejoin her friends. Instead, she sank on to the low settee close to where she had been standing, and drew Tavernake down to her side. She waved her hand across at the others, who were calling for her. “In a moment, dear people,” she said. Then she leaned back among the cushions and laughed at her companion. “Tell me, Mr. Tavernake,” she asked, “don't you feel that you have stepped into a sort of modern Arabian Nights?” “Why?” “Oh, I know Mr. Pritchard's weakness,” she c
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CHAPTER XVI. AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE
CHAPTER XVI. AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE
The next afternoon, at half-past four, Tavernake was having tea with Beatrice in the tiny flat which she was sharing with another girl, off Kingsway. She opened the door to him herself, and though she chattered ceaselessly, it seemed to him that she was by no means at her ease. She installed him in the only available chair, an absurd little wicker thing many sizes too small for him, and seated herself upon the hearth-rug a few feet away. “You have soon managed to find me out, Leonard,” she remar
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CHAPTER XVII. THE BALCONY AT IMANO'S
CHAPTER XVII. THE BALCONY AT IMANO'S
At six o'clock that evening, Tavernake rang up the Milan Court and inquired for Elizabeth. There was a moment or two's delay and then he heard her reply. Even over the telephone wires, even though he stood, cramped and uncomfortable, in that stuffy little telephone booth, he felt the quick start of pleasure, the thrill of something different in life, which came to him always at the sound of her voice, at the slightest suggestion of her presence. “Well, my friend, what fortune?” she asked him. “N
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CHAPTER XVIII. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
CHAPTER XVIII. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE
Tavernake was not sociably inclined and took no pains to conceal the fact. Mr. Pritchard, however, was not easily to be shaken off. “So you've been palling up to the old man, eh?” he remarked, in friendly fashion. “I came across the professor unexpectedly,” Tavernake answered, coldly. “What do you want with me, please? I am on my way home.” Pritchard laughed softly to himself. “Say, there's something about you Britishers I can't help admiring!” he declared. “You are downright, aren't you?” “I su
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CHAPTER XIX. TAVERNAKE INTERVENES
CHAPTER XIX. TAVERNAKE INTERVENES
Tavernake had the feelings of a man suddenly sobered as he turned once more into the Adelphi Terrace. Waiting until no one was in sight, he opened the door of the empty house with the Yale key which he had kept, and carefully closed it. He struck a match and listened for several minutes intently; not a sound from anywhere. He moved a few yards further to the bottom of the stairs, and listened again; still silence. He turned the handle of the ground floor apartment and commenced a fresh search. R
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CHAPTER XX. A PLEASANT REUNION
CHAPTER XX. A PLEASANT REUNION
Tavernake awoke some hours later with a puzzled sense of having lost his own identity, of having taken up another man's life, stepped into another man's shoes. From the day of his first arrival in London, a raw country youth, till the night when he had spoken to Beatrice on the roof of Blenheim House, nothing that could properly be called an adventure had ever happened to him. He had never for a moment felt the want of it; he had not even indulged in the reading of books of romance. The thing wh
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CHAPTER XXI. SOME EXCELLENT ADVICE
CHAPTER XXI. SOME EXCELLENT ADVICE
Tavernake, in response to a somewhat urgent message, walked into his solicitor's office almost as soon as they opened on the following morning. The junior partner of the firm, who took an interest in him, and was anxious, indeed, to invest a small amount in the Marston Rise Building Company, received him cordially but with some concern. “Look here, Tavernake,” he said, “I thought I'd better write a line and ask you to come down. You haven't forgotten, have you, that our option of purchase lasts
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CHAPTER XXII. DINNER WITH ELIZABETH
CHAPTER XXII. DINNER WITH ELIZABETH
The rest of that day was for Tavernake a period of feverish anxieties. He received two telegrams from Mr. Martin, his solicitor, and he himself was more uneasy than he cared to admit. At three o'clock in the afternoon, at eight in the evening, and again at eleven o'clock at night, he presented himself at the Milan Court, always with the same inquiry. On the last occasion, the hall porter had cheering news for him. “Mrs. Wenham Gardner returned from the country an hour ago, sir,” he announced. “I
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CHAPTER XXIII. ON AN ERRAND OF CHIVALRY
CHAPTER XXIII. ON AN ERRAND OF CHIVALRY
The seconds passed; the woman beside him showed no sign of life. Tavernake felt a fear run cold in his blood, such as in all his days he had never known. This, indeed, was something belonging to a world of which he knew nothing. What was it? Illness? Pain? Surprise? There was only his instinct to tell him. It was terror, the terror of one who looks beyond the grave. “Mrs. Gardner!” he exclaimed. “Elizabeth!” The sound of his voice seemed to break the spell. A half-choked sob came through her tee
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CHAPTER XXIV. CLOSE TO TRAGEDY
CHAPTER XXIV. CLOSE TO TRAGEDY
The actual words of greeting which passed between Elizabeth and the man whose advent had caused her so much emotion were unimpressive. The newcomer, with the tips of his fingers resting upon the tablecloth, leaned slightly towards her. At close quarters, he was even more unattractive than when Tavernake had first seen him. He was faultily shaped; there was something a little decadent about his deep-set eyes and receding forehead. Neither was his expression prepossessing. He looked at her as a ma
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CHAPTER XXV. THE MADMAN TALKS
CHAPTER XXV. THE MADMAN TALKS
Tavernake turned on the light. Pritchard, with a quick leap forward, seized Wenham around the waist and dragged him away. Elizabeth had fainted; she lay upon the floor, her face the color of marble. “Get some water and throw over her,” Pritchard ordered. Tavernake obeyed. He threw open the window and let in a current of air. In a moment or two the woman stirred and raised her head. “Look after her for a minute,” Pritchard said. “I Il lock this fierce little person up in the bathroom.” Pritchard
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CHAPTER XXVI. A CRISIS
CHAPTER XXVI. A CRISIS
Pritchard was the first visitor who had ever found his way into Tavernake's lodgings. It was barely eight o'clock on the same morning. Tavernake, hollow-eyed and bewildered, sat up upon the sofa and gazed across the room. “Pritchard!” he exclaimed. “Why, what do you want?” Pritchard laid his hat and gloves upon the table. Already his first swift glance had taken in the details of the little apartment. The overcoat and hat which Tavernake had worn the night before lay by his side. The table was s
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CHAPTER XXVII. TAVERNAKE CHOOSES
CHAPTER XXVII. TAVERNAKE CHOOSES
Tavernake was kept waiting in the hall of the Milan Court for at least half an hour before Elizabeth was prepared to see him. He wandered aimlessly about watching the people come and go, looking out into the flower-hung courtyard, curiously unconscious of himself and of his errand, unable to concentrate his thoughts for a moment, yet filled all the time with the dull and uneasy sensation of one who moves in a dream. Every now and then he heard scraps of conversation from the servants and passers
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CHAPTER I. NEW HORIZONS
CHAPTER I. NEW HORIZONS
Towards the sky-line, across the level country, stumbling and crawling over the deep-hewn dikes, wading sometimes through the mud-oozing swamp, Tavernake, who had left the small railway terminus on foot, made his way that night steadily seawards, as one pursued by some relentless and indefatigable enemy. Twilight had fallen like a mantle around him, fallen over that great flat region of fens and pastureland and bog. Little patches of mist, harbingers of the coming obscurity, were being drawn now
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CHAPTER II. THE SIMPLE LIFE
CHAPTER II. THE SIMPLE LIFE
So Tavernake became a boat-builder. Summer passed into winter and this hamlet by the sea seemed, indeed, as though it might have been one of the forgotten spots upon the earth. Save for that handful of cottages, the two farmhouses a few hundred yards inland, and the deserted Hall half-hidden in its grove of pine trees, there was no dwelling-place nor any sign of human habitation for many miles. For eight hours a day Tavernake worked, mostly out of doors, in the little yard which hung over the be
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CHAPTER III. OLD FRIENDS MEET
CHAPTER III. OLD FRIENDS MEET
The professor set down his tumbler upon the zinc-rimmed counter. He was very little changed except that he had grown a shade stouter, and there was perhaps more color in his cheeks. He carried himself, too, like a man who believes in himself. In the small public-house he was, without doubt, an impressive figure. “My friends,” he remarked, “our host's whiskey is good. At the same time, I must not forget—” “You'll have one with me, Professor,” a youth at his elbow interrupted. “Two special whiskie
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CHAPTER IV. PRITCHARD'S GOOD NEWS
CHAPTER IV. PRITCHARD'S GOOD NEWS
Late in the afternoon of the following day, Ruth came home from the village and found Tavernake hard at work on his boat. She put down her basket and stopped by his side. “So you are back again,” she remarked. “Yes, I am back again.” “And nothing has happened?” “Nothing has happened,” he assented, wearily. “Nothing ever will happen now.” She smiled. “You mean that you will stay here and build boats all your life?” “That is what I mean to do,” he announced. She laid her hand upon his shoulder. “D
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CHAPTER V. BEATRICE REFUSES
CHAPTER V. BEATRICE REFUSES
A week later Tavernake was in London. A visit to his friend Mr. Martin had easily proved the truth of Pritchard's words, and he found himself in possession of a sum of money at least twice as great as he had anticipated. He stayed at a cheap hotel in the Strand and made purchases under Pritchard's supervision. For the first few days he was too busy for reflection. Then Pritchard let him alone while he ran over to Paris, and Tavernake suddenly realized that he was in the city to which he had thou
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CHAPTER VI. UNDERSTANDING COMES TOO LATE
CHAPTER VI. UNDERSTANDING COMES TOO LATE
Tavernake's first impression of Elizabeth was that he had never, even in his wildest thoughts, done her justice. He had never imagined her so wonderfully, so alluringly beautiful. She had received him, after a very long delay, in her sitting-room at Claridge's Hotel—a large apartment furnished more like a drawing-room. She was standing, when he entered, almost in the center of the room, dressed in a long lace cloak and a hat with a drooping black feather. She looked at him, as the door opened, a
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CHAPTER VII. IN A VIRGIN COUNTRY
CHAPTER VII. IN A VIRGIN COUNTRY
One night Tavernake began to laugh. He had grown a long brown beard and the hair was over his ears. He was wearing a gray flannel shirt, a handkerchief tied around his neck, and a pair of worn riding breeches held up by a belt. He had kicked his boots off at the end of a long day, and was lying in the moonlight before a fire of pine logs, whose smoke went straight to the star-hung sky. No word had been spoken for the last hour. Tavernake's fit of mirth came with as little apparent reason as the
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CHAPTER VIII. BACK TO CIVILIZATION
CHAPTER VIII. BACK TO CIVILIZATION
Pritchard, trim and neat, a New Yorker from the careful arrangement of his tie to the tips of his patent boots, gazed with something like amazement at the man whom he had come to meet at the Grand Central Station. Tavernake looked, indeed, like some splendid bushman whose life has been spent in the kingdom of the winds and the sun and the rain. He was inches broader round the chest, and carried himself with a new freedom. His face was bronzed right down to the neck. His beard was fullgrown, his
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CHAPTER IX. FOR ALWAYS
CHAPTER IX. FOR ALWAYS
Once again it seemed to Beatrice that history was repeating itself. The dingy, oblong dining-room, with its mosquito netting, stained tablecloth, and hard cane chairs, expanded until she fancied herself in the drawing-room of Blenheim House. Between the landladies there was little enough to choose. Mrs. Raithby Lawrence, notwithstanding her caustic tongue and suspicious nature, had at least made some pretense at gentility. The woman who faced her now—hard-featured, with narrow, suspicious eyes a
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