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DIANA OF KARA-KARA
DIANA OF KARA-KARA
BY EDGAR WALLACE Author of “ The Green Archer ,” “ The Clue of the New Pin ,” etc. BOSTON SMALL, MAYNARD AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1924, By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY (INCORPORATED) Printed in the United States of America Printed by Geo. H. Ellis Co. Inc., Boston, Massachusetts Bound by the Boston Bookbinding Company Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. DIANA OF KARA-KARA...
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CHAPTER I
CHAPTER I
“ She is an orphan,” said Mr. Collings emotionally. Orphans were Mr. Collings’ weakness. In ordinary intercourse as between lawyer and client, he was a stern, reserved man with a cold passion for compromise. Litigants entered his office charged with bubbling joy that their enemies had delivered themselves into their hands; they came talking five figure damages and the stark ruin of men and corporations who and which had offended them. They slunk out again into the glare of an Australian sun, the
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CHAPTER II
CHAPTER II
Neither by nature crazy, nor by inclination eccentric, Mr. Gordon Selsbury had at moments serious but comfortable doubts as to whether he was not a little abnormal; whether he was not, in fine, one of those rare and gifted mortals to whom was given Vision beyond the ordinary. His environment was the commonplace City of London; his occupation a shrieking incongruity for a spiritual man—he was an insurance broker. And a prosperous insurance broker. Sometimes he sat before the silver fire grate of
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CHAPTER III
CHAPTER III
Cheynel Gardens is one of those very select thoroughfares that no cab-driver has ever found without the assistance of a local guide. Taximen have “heard of it,” dimly remember having dropped a fare there at some time or other; but where it is, only the police and the postmen know. Often people who live in Cheynel Gardens have only the haziest idea whether they are in Mayfair or Marylebone. Gordon occupied a corner house that had a garden, probably the garden after which the thoroughfare was name
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CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER IV
One day Diana came back from a conscientious tour of the stores and found a thin and middle-aged lady sitting in the drawing-room. She greeted Diana with a deferential smile. She was such a middle-aged lady as might have stepped from the pages of a late Victorian novel, and Diana regarded her steadily, for she wore no hat, had the skimpy beginnings of a purple wool jumper on her knees, and in her hands two knitting needles that seemed to be operating of their own volition all the time she talked
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CHAPTER V
CHAPTER V
On an afternoon in late summer Heloise van Oynne looked across the darkening river, seemed for a moment absorbed in the gay lighting of one of the moored house-boats, and then: “Tell me some more about Diana, please. She must be fas-cinating!” she pleaded. Her companion shifted a little uncomfortably. He had already said more about Diana than he wished or intended saying. “Well ... you know all about Diana. I hope you will meet her ... some day.” There was just that little pause before the last
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CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VI
Sometimes , mostly all the time, Gordon forgot that before the name of Heloise van Oynne was that magical prefix “Mrs.” Too nice-minded to discover, even by an indirect method, the extent of her indiscretion, Gordon had conceived in his mind a marriage between two persons diametrically unsuited one to the other. He fashioned Mr. van Oynne in the image of a gross, unimaginative business man, without soul, and saw dimly a struggle between opposing ideals; sullen fury or blank indifference on the m
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CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VII
Diana liked Bobbie Selsbury the moment she saw him. He was a smaller edition of his brother, a brusque, cynical young man, with a passion for revue and the more clingy variations of modern dancing. Also he was engaged to a girl in Canada, and had no intense interest in any other woman. She liked him most because he was entirely without that brand of soul which wriggled so frequently under the scalpel of his brother. He came to dinner twice, and on the second occasion Gordon thought his relative
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CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER VIII
When she got home that night she found Gordon had arrived before her. He was thoughtful, unusually subdued; most remarkable of all, was to be seen, for he invariably went to bed as soon as he reached home after a dinner or theatre, and never by any chance was he in a conversational mood at such hours. “Good time?” he asked. “Very. I met the cream of the Colonial Office. It was thin but genuine cream. Were you very late, and was she very annoyed?” Such a query, ordinarily, would be ignored. “Five
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CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER IX
In the early days, when Trenter had known him, Mr. Superbus was a court bailiff, a man who seized the property of unsuccessful litigants, who served writs, attached furniture, and committed all those barbarous acts peculiar to his office. But progression, the inexorable law of getting on, the natural craving for success, brought Mr. Superbus from the atmosphere of a dull county court to a small office in the Insurance Trust Building, and the distinction of having his name painted upon the glass
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CHAPTER X
CHAPTER X
Ten minutes later, Bobbie walked into his brother’s room without knocking, and interrupted what seemed to be a very confidential interview. Trenter pocketed a sheaf of telegrams in haste, but not so quickly that Bobbie did not see them. He made no comment until Mr. Trenter, in his best suit and looking unusually spruce, had made a hurried departure. “Trenter’s going down to see his sick aunt,” explained his master. “He looks like that,” said Bobbie. “The chrysanthemum in his buttonhole will chee
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CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XI
It was half an hour before Diana came back, and she still showed the effects of the shock she had received at breakfast time. “Hullo, Bobbie!” She glanced at his face. “What is the matter?” “Diana”—he spoke slowly—“you’re in some kind of trouble.” “Some kind!” She flung her hat recklessly on the table. “Every kind, my dear child!” He did not smile. “Gordon told me that he had left fifty thousand dollars in the safe to pay an American who’s calling on Sunday. He gave me the combination.” She stoo
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CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XII
Gordon hesitated a little time before the mirror in his bedroom at the hotel, the razor poised in his hand, his cheeks crisp with lather. There is no more solemn act undertaken by man than destruction of such facial landmarks (if the term be allowed) as are represented by cultivated hair. There is something so irrevocable, so tremendous in self-destruction of whiskers, that it is amazing so few great poets have utilised the theme. Setting his jaw, Gordon attacked with a firm hand, the bright bla
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CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIII
He had never seen anybody as scared as Heloise was; that was the one clear impression which Gordon carried away from the interview. She, the self-possessed woman of the world, a soul, one superior to the lesser grades of humanity, seemed to have cowered and shrunk under the domination of Diana’s baleful eye. Gordon sighed, tied his baize apron a little tighter round his waist, and wondered where Trenter kept his stock of plate powder. On the whole, it was good that Trenter was away, and that he
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CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XIV
Gordon was playing absently with potato peelings when she came in. “You’re Uncle Isaac!” she said in a strained, hazy fashion. “Where have you been, Heloise?” The sight of his companion in misfortune brought him with a jerk to normal. Heloise was real, something to cling to; he forgot his resentment in the joy of seeing something that anchored him to Gordon Selsbury. “Say Gordon, that Jane ... she’s Diana, huh?” He nodded. “Your wife, you never told me that?” “She is not my wife ... she has no r
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CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XV
“ Life ,” said Mr. Dempsi, stretching the toes of his small feet to the fire with a luxurious intake of breath, “is a beautiful thing. From the utter depths of loveless despair to the sublime accomplishment of heart’s desire—what a transition, my own!” “Mr. Dempsi—” began Diana. “Wopsy,” he murmured reproachfully. “Well—Wopsy. I have allowed you to stay because I wanted a quiet talk with you. A quiet talk,” she stressed the qualification as he reached out for a hand that was not there. “Silence
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CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVI
Diana stirred uneasily in her sleep and woke. There was no sound but the distant snore of Mr. Superbus, but she had an uncanny instinct that all was not well. Slipping out of bed, she pulled on her dressing-gown and looked out of the window. She saw a figure on the sidewalk. A man, slight of build, round-shouldered. She saw him clearly in the light of the street standard which was immediately opposite the house. She guessed his face rather than saw it, and wondered where she had seen him before.
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CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVII
Knotted to the bedstead was a rope. It was of amateur make, being three strips of blanket plaited together, and the rope led through the open window. Diana looked down. The end of the rope dangled less than six feet from the window-sill. He must have dropped twenty feet to the stone flags below. “That’s funny,” said Superbus, game to the last. “When I looked in——” “Let us keep to facts,” begged Diana, her youthful brows wrinkled. “What is the use of a rope if it only falls him a few feet from th
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CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XVIII
Bobbie Selsbury had gone to Victoria to rescue his brother at the eleventh hour from a situation which could be mildly described as dangerous. He had searched one Continental train from end to end, and was half way through another when the guard’s whistle sounded, and he was faced with the alternatives of leaving his search incomplete or going on to Dover. He decided upon the latter course, continuing his inspection of the compartments, roving Pullman cars, peeping in upon indignant honeymoon co
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CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XIX
His servant had news for him. “Miss Ford rang you up this morning, sir.” “Oh, what had she to say?” Bobbie turned, lather brush in hand. “She only asked if you were at home.” “What time was this?” “About five o’clock, sir.” “Five o’clock! You graven image, why didn’t you tell me?” Lathered as he was, he dashed to the telephone and got through to Diana. “Is that you, Bobbie? Can I see you to-day?” “I’ll come at once.” There was a silence at the other end of the wire. “I don’t think you need come
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CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XX
“ Bobbie !” The girl came toward him with both hands outstretched. Behind her in the hall he saw a strange shadow. “Hullo, dear! I came as soon as you wanted me, I hope?” Mr. Dempsi was now visible. His black sombrero gave him a sinister appearance. His voice was querulous, his manner menacing. “Dear?” he asked deeply. “Who calls you ‘dear’? What is this man to you, Diana?” “My dear Mr. Dempsi,” she said wearily, “this gentleman.” But he was furious; flung his hat on the ground and swung his clo
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CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXI
“ But you shall not die unavenged, my Superbus!” Dempsi’s affectionate hand was on his arm. Julius moved away from the fire; he had gone suddenly hot. “You’re sure he carries firearms?” Dempsi nodded. “Loaded? That’s against the lore, sir. A man could be pinched for that.” Mr. Dempsi treated the matter light-heartedly. Julius could not but feel that his indifference was almost criminal. “Certain,” he said carelessly. “I’ve never met a desperado yet—and I’ve met a few—that didn’t carry a loaded g
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CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXII
The atmosphere of a kitchen, however clean and well-ordered it may be, is calculated to pall on any man of intellect and genius. It needs the gross mind of a materialist, a man like the husband of Heloise (Gordon’s expression was one of distaste as he thought of that man) to appreciate the lingering fragrance of long-baked and long-consumed pies, the everlasting aroma which the spluttering hot oven has sent forth from time to time through the years, to permeate the homely furniture, and through
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CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIII
For once Diana was silenced. It was absurd that she should attempt to justify herself to a woman of this character. Yet she did. “Mr. Dempsi is—is a very dear friend. To compare your—oh, it’s horrible!” She was sickened—the realisation of her own hypocrisy did not lessen the nausea. There was no comparison. Of the two men, Double Dan was the more appealing. No index of her mind went unread by the shrewd watcher. “I gotta stick by this anyhow. It’s no vacation for me,” said Heloise with a sigh. T
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CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXIV
It was Monday morning. A church clock striking one reminded Gordon of this interesting fact. An hour had passed since Bobbie’s “good-night” had come to him through the closed door of his room. “Good-night,” said Gordon. “I wasn’t speaking to you,” snapped Bobbie. He had been out all the evening interviewing Inspector Carslake, and the excursion had not been altogether profitable. Bobbie’s door closed. He heard the click of Diana’s lock being fastened. Dempsi passed, after rhapsodizing at the clo
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CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXV
Summing up the matter, as she did in a night made busy with the comings and goings of doctors, and vocal with the low-voiced agony of Mr. Superbus, Diana was glad that the man had escaped. She was sorry, extremely sorry about the Julian toe—a small toe by all accounts, and not especially valuable or wholly necessary to his complete enjoyment of life—still, it was his, and had been (as he explained between paroxysms) a close companion throughout his chequered life. He recounted stories about it,
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CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVI
With the remark that he had to go to his good lady or his good lady would have to come to him, Julius had taken his departure in a motor ambulance. He could as well have gone by taxi, but he expressed a preference for an ambulance. “One with a red cross,” he suggested. Diana had ’phoned a garage, and Julius Superbus made his exit dramatically, covered with blankets, flat on a stretcher, and smiling the smile of one who was not long for this world but wasn’t afraid to go. “And what my missus will
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CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVII
Eleanor came furtively in search of her mistress and found her in Gordon’s room, valiantly overhauling his wardrobe. “The clergyman, miss,” she said, with an air of mystery that was natural. The well-trained servant has an air appropriate to the calling of every visitor. Dread and a funereal solemnity for doctors, a primness for elderly ladies, a suppressed blitheness to announce the young, mystery for the clergy; only a lawyer baffles interpretation. The secret dispositions of lawyers have neve
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