FullReads

Hagar, who loved the man’s unique and spontaneous character as only an artist can love a subject in which he sees royal possibilities, consented gladly, and dropped a cordial hand on the other’s shoulder. The hand was dragged down and wrenched back and forth with a sturdy clasp, in time to a roll of round, unctuous laughter. Then Baron took him up hurriedly, and introduced him to Telford with the words: “You two ought to know each other. Telford, traveler, officer of the Hudson’s Bay company, et cetera; Hagar, artist, good fellow, et cetera.”

Then he drew back and smiled as the two men, not shaking hands as he expected, bowed, and said they were happy to meet. The talk began with the remark by Hagar on the panorama below them, “that the thing was amusing if not seen too often, but the eternal paddling round the band stand was too much like marionettes.”

“You prefer a Punch and Judy to marionettes?” asked Telford.

“Yes, you get a human element in a Punch and Judy tragedy. Besides, it has surprises, according to the idiosyncrasy of the man in the greenroom.” He smiled immediately, remembering that his last words plagiarized Mr. Alpheus Richmond.

“I never miss a Punch and Judy if I’m near it,” said Telford. “I enjoy the sardonic humor with which Punch hustles off his victims. His light-heartedness when doing bloody deeds is the true temper.”

“That is, if it must be done, to do it with a grin is–“

“Is the most absolute tragedy.”

Hagar was astonished, for even the trader’s information that Telford spoke excellent French, and had certainly been a deal on red carpet in his time, did not prepare him for the sharply incisive words just uttered. Yet it was not incongruous with. Telford’s appearance–not even with the red sash peeping at the edge of his waistcoat.

They came down among the promenaders, and Baron being accosted by some one, he left the two together, exacting anew the promise from Hagar regarding dinner.

Presently Hagar looked up, and said abruptly, “You were singing outside my window last night.”

Telford’s face was turned away from him when he began. It came slowly toward him. The eyes closed steadily with his, there was no excitement, only cold alertness.

“Indeed? What was I singing?”

“For one thing, the chant of the negro woodcutters of Louisiana.”

“What part of Louisiana?”

“The county of Tellavie chiefly.”

Telford drew a long breath, as though some suspense was over, and then said, “How did you know it was I?”

“I could scarcely tell you. I got the impression–besides, you are the only man I’ve seen in Herridon who looks likely to know it and the song which you prompted.”

“Do I look like a southerner–still? You see I’ve been in an arctic country five years.”

“It is not quite that. I confess I cannot explain it.”

“I hope you did not think the thing too boorish to be pardoned. On the face of it it was rude to you–and the lady also.”

“The circumstance–the coincidence–was so unusual that I did not stop to think of manners.”

“The coincidence–what coincidence?” said Telford, watching intently.

But Hagar had himself well in hand. He showed nothing of his suspicions. “That you should be there listening, and that the song should be one which no two people, meeting casually, were likely to know.”

“We did not meet,” said Telford dryly.

They watched the crowd for a minute. Presently he added, “May I ask the name of the lady who was singing?”

There was a slight pause, then, “Certainly–Mrs. Fairfax Detlor.”

Though Telford did not stir a muscle the bronze of his face went grayish, and he looked straight before him without speaking. At last he said in a clear, steady voice, “I knew her once, I think.”

“I guessed so.”

“Indeed? May I ask if Mrs. Detlor recognized my voice?”

“That I do not know, but the chances are she did not; if you failed to recognize hers.”

There was an almost malicious desire on Hagar’s part to play upon this man–this scoundrel, as he believed him to be–and make him wince still more. A score of things to say or do flashed through his mind, but he gave them up instantly, remembering that it was his duty to consider Mrs. Detlor before all. But he did say, “If you were old friends, you will wish to meet her, of course.”