“Wait! Miss Lawton has befriended you, and now, because of a man of whom you know nothing, you desert her cause. Is that loyalty, mademoiselle? We shall not ask you to remain at Dr. Franklin’s any longer; Miss Lawton does not wish unwilling service from anyone. But for your own sake, go back to the club, and remain there until a position is open to you which is to your liking. You are a young girl in a strange country, as you say, and at least you know the club to be a safe place for you. Do not trust this man Paddington, or anyone else; it is not wise.”
“I shall not listen to you!” she cried, her voice rising shrill and high-pitched in her excitement. “You shall not say such things of M’sieu Paddington! He is brave and good, while you––you are a spy, an eavesdropper, a delver into the private affairs of others. I do not know what this trouble may be, which Miss Lawton is in, and I am sorry for her, that she should suffer, but I shall have nothing more to do with the case, nor with you, m’sieu! Au revoir!”
“Whew!” breathed Blaine to himself, as the door closed after her with a slam. “What a firebrand! She may not have actually betrayed us to Paddington in so many words, but it isn’t necessary to look far for the one who warned him that he was being watched, and put 212 him on his guard, all unknowingly, that the whole scheme in which he is so deeply involved, was in jeopardy. Oh, these women! Let them once lose their heads over a man, and they upset all one’s plans!”
Blaine arrived promptly within the hour at the house on Belleair Avenue. Anita Lawton received him as before in the library. He observed with deep concern that she was a mere shadow of her former self. The slenderness which had been one of her girlish charms had become almost emaciation; her eyes were glassily bright, and in the waxen pallor of her cheeks a feverish red spot burned.
She smiled wanly as he pressed her hand, and her pale lips trembled, but no words came.
“My poor child!” the great detective found himself saying from the depths of his fatherly heart. “You are positively ill! This will never do. You are not keeping your promise to me.”
“I am trying hard to, Mr. Blaine.” Anita motioned toward a chair and sank into another with a little gasp of sheer exhaustion. “You have never failed yet, and you have given me your word that you would bring Ramon back to me. I try to have faith, but with every hour that passes, hope dies within me, and I can feel that my strength, my will to believe, is dying, too. I know that you must be doing your utmost, exerting every effort, and yet I cannot resist the longing to urge you on, to try to express to you the torture of uncertainty and dread which consumes me unceasingly. That my father’s fortune is gone means nothing to me now. Only give me back Ramon alive and well, and I shall ask no more!”
“I hope to be able to do that speedily,” Blaine returned. “As I told you over the telephone, I have 213 positive proof that he is alive, and a definite clue as to his whereabouts. You must ask me nothing further now––only try to find faith in your heart for just a few days, perhaps hours, longer. You ’phoned to Mrs. Hamilton, as I suggested?”
“Yes. She demurred at first, dreading the notoriety, and not––not appearing to believe in your ability as I do, but I simply refused to listen to her objections. Mr. Carlis called me up shortly afterward, and wanted to know if I would be able to receive him this afternoon, on a matter connected with my finances, but I told him I had retained you to search for Ramon, and was expecting you at any moment. He seemed greatly astonished, and warned me of the––he called it ‘useless’––expense. He begged me not to be impatient, to wait until I had time to think the matter over and consult himself and Mr. Mallowe, saying that they were both doing all that could be done to locate Ramon, and Mr. Rockamore was, also, but I told him it was too late, that you were on your way here.”
“That was right. I am glad you told him. The fact that you have retained me to search for Mr. Hamilton will appear as a scoop in every evening paper which he controls, now, and the more publicity given to it, the better. You told me over the ’phone that Mr. Rockamore calls upon you every day?”