Nevertheless, as an hour slipped away and Louise did not make her appearance, either on the veranda or in the little sitting-room off the hall, Mainwaring became more uneasy as to the incompleteness of their interview.Perhaps a faint suspicion of the inadequacy of her response began to trouble him; but he still fatuously regarded it rather as owing to his own hurried and unfinished declaration.
It was true that he hadn't said half what he intended to say; it was true that she might have misunderstood it as the conventional gallantry of the situation, as--terrible thought!--the light banter of the habitual love-****** American, to which she had been accustomed; perhaps even now she relegated him to the level of Greyson, and this accounted for her singular impassiveness--an impassiveness that certainly was singular now he reflected upon it--that might have been even contempt.The last thought pricked his deep conscientiousness; he walked hurriedly up and down the veranda, and then, suddenly re-entering his room, took up a sheet of note-paper, and began to write to her:--
"Can you grant me a few moments' interview alone?I cannot bear you should think that what I was trying to tell you when we were interrupted was prompted by anything but the deepest sincerity and conviction, or that I am willing it should be passed over lightly by you or be forgotten.Pray give me a chance of proving it, by saying you will see me.F. M."
But how should he convey this to her?His delicacy revolted against handing it to her behind Mrs. Bradley's back, or the prestidigitation of slipping it into her lap or under her plate before them at luncheon; he thought for an instant of the Chinaman,but gentlemen--except in that "mirror of nature" the stage--usually hesitate to suborn other people's servants, or entrust a woman's secret to her inferiors.He remembered that Louise's room was at the farther end of the house, and its low window gave upon the veranda, and was guarded at night by a film of white and blue curtains that were parted during the day, to allow a triangular revelation of a pale blue and white draped interior.Mainwaring reflected that the low inside window ledge was easily accessible from the veranda, would afford a capital lodgment for the note, and be quickly seen by the fair occupant of the room on entering.He sauntered slowly past the window; the room was empty, the moment propitious.A slight breeze was stirring the blue ribbons of the curtain; it would be necessary to secure the note with something;he returned along the veranda to the steps, where he had noticed a small irregular stone lying, which had evidently escaped from Richelieu's bag of treasure specimens, and had been overlooked by that ingenuous child.It was of a pretty peacock-blue color, and,besides securing a paper, would be sure to attract her attention.
He placed his note on the inside ledge, and the blue stone atop,and went away with a sense of relief.
Another half hour passed without incident.He could hear the voices of the two women in the kitchen and dining-room.After a while they appeared to cease, and he heard the sound of an opening door.It then occurred to him that the veranda was still too exposed for a confidential interview, and he resolved to descend the steps, pass before the windows of the kitchen where Louise might see him, and penetrate the shrubbery, where she might be induced to follow him.They would not be interrupted nor overheard there.
But he had barely left the veranda before the figure of Richelieu,who had been patiently waiting for Mainwaring's disappearance,emerged stealthily from the shrubbery.He had discovered his loss on handing his "fire assays" to the good-humored Bradley for later examination, and he had retraced his way, step by step, looking everywhere for his missing stone with the unbounded hopefulness,lazy persistency, and lofty disregard for time and occupation known only to the genuine boy.He remembered to have placed his knotted bag upon the veranda, and, slipping off his stiff boots slowly and softly, slid along against the wall of the house, looking carefully on the floor, and yet preserving a studied negligence of demeanor,with one hand in his pocket, and his small mouth contracted into a singularly soothing and almost voiceless whistle--Richelieu's own peculiar accomplishment.But no stone appeared.Like most of his genus he was superstitious, and repeated to himself the cabalistic formula: "Losin's seekin's, findin's keepin's"--presumed to be of great efficacy in such cases--with religious fervor.He had laboriously reached the end of the veranda when he noticed the open window of Louise's room, and stopped as a perfunctory duty to look in.And then Richelieu Sharpe stood for an instant utterly confounded and aghast at this crowning proof of the absolute infamy and sickening enormity of Man.
There was HIS stone--HIS, RICHELIEU'S, OWN SPECIMEN, carefully gathered by himself and none other--and now stolen, abstracted,"skyugled," "smouged," "hooked" by this "rotten, skunkified, long-
legged, splay-footed, hoss-laughin', nigger-toothed, or'nary despot"And, worse than all, actually made to do infamous duty as a love token"--a "candy-gift!"--a "philanderin' box" to HIS,Richelieu's, girl--for Louise belonged to that innocent and vague outside seraglio of Richelieu's boyish dreams--and put atop of a letter to her! and Providence permitted such an outrage!"Wot was he, Richelieu, sent to school for, and organized wickedness in the shape of gorilla Injins like this allowed to ride high horses rampant over Californey!"He looked at the heavens in mute appeal.
And then--Providence not immediately interfering--he thrust his own small arm into the window, regained his priceless treasure, and fled swiftly.