Ridgwell Cullum - The Men Who Wrought

The woman was talking rapidly, and the light and shade of emotion passing over her expressive face were quite irresistible.

"Your coming was more than I dared to hope," she said. "And yet – I knew you would. I mean underneath my fears. You know I feel I ought to tell you so many things that I have purposely hidden, and yet I know it would be a mistake to do so until – I have shown you all that which I promised. It makes me feel mean. It makes me feel almost as if I were not acting honestly. And yet I know I am. But I think I can tell you one thing which may astonish you. Our meeting on the cliffs was the result of nearly two months' preparation and consideration. It was even in the nature of a plot, in which I was to be the instrument of communication. Furthermore it took me nearly two weeks of waiting and watching before I could decide that the right moment had arrived. You see, so secretly had we to move that I dared not chance a thing. The risk for all concerned was so great. Mr. Farlow, will you believe me when I say that yours is not the only life at stake in this adventure? Even now I dare not give you the details. You must still take me on trust, as you were kind enough to do – that night."

Ruxton nodded soberly, though his eyes were feasting upon the woman's superlative beauty as she reclined against the window casing in an all unconscious pose of considerable grace.

"I think I understand better than you imagine since I have seen – Mr. Charles Smith and his invention."

The woman's deeply-fringed grey eyes were widely alert.

"You have – associated us?"

"Veevee, London."

The woman nodded. There was no attempt at denial.

"I see," she said, and the grey eyes became interestedly speculative.

Ruxton glanced about him. He was swiftly taking in the details of the plainly furnished, extremely modern little drawing-room. It was the preliminary to the next step in this strange adventure. He saw about him no single suggestion of the personality of the woman who claimed it as her home. It might have belonged to anybody, from a superior business woman, who used it as a nightly refuge from the cares and worries of a commercial life, to a foreign visitor to London, desiring a convenient headquarters. It was to his mind a typical "furnished flat" as designated in the house agent's catalogue.

His eyes came back to the woman herself, and a deep, restrained admiration grew in their depths.

All that he had believed of her in the deceptive moonlight was more than confirmed in the warm light of day. He had no thought for her costume. In his man's way he realized a perfect harmony between that and the wonderful face and head that adorned it. He was aware only of the deep sleepy grey eyes so exquisitely fringed. The smooth, delicately tinted cheeks, and the mouth so ripe and full of the suggestion of youth. Above all was that wonderful glory of red-gold hair massed on the head with all the art of the hair-dresser, which transformed it into a crown which any queen might well have envied.

"I want to say something that may sound rough, even brutal," Ruxton said abruptly after the prolonged pause. "But then there are times in life when the suaveness of diplomatic methods becomes wholly misplaced – even an insult to the person towards whom they are directed. You will permit me to assure you that what I have to say is the outcome of the interest you have roused in me by all you have confided." He paused again thoughtfully. He was endeavoring to shut out of his mind the picture of the woman's personality which made what he was about to say seem so harsh and unnecessary. He nerved himself for the effort and proceeded.

"Let me say at once, that against all my – what shall I say – better sense? That will do. Against all my better sense I accepted and believed your story to me on the cliffs. Had I acted as my sense prompted I should have thrust it aside and ignored it, regarding you merely as one of my country's enemies, seeking, for some inexplicable reason, to leave me at the mercy of your confederates.

"However, for once instinct served me well. I committed no such injustice. Then on my return home I discovered a link, as I thought, between you and another matter which has since proved to be of considerable importance. I refer to Veevee, London. That link you do not deny. The combination suggests more fully the importance and truth of what you told me."

"The combination of the two things was part of the – preparation."

Vita Vladimir smiled. Her smile was like a sunbeam of early morning, and Ruxton was compelled to respond.

"That is how I now supposed. You must forgive me for what else I have to say. The natural result of a mind left groping is the dominance of imagination. 'Fact' is the only thing which can pin imagination down. At the present moment I am lacking in facts. I have only been told, and so my imagination has been turned loose. The result has been one or two things which I am going to put to you, and you can answer them or not. But my future action will be undoubtedly governed by your attitude. First, then, this is not your actual home. Second, your name is not Vita Vladimir. Third, you were kind enough to send me congratulation on my promotion to Cabinet rank when only the Prime Minister, and his most intimate colleagues, were aware of it. Even the ubiquitous press had failed to steal the information."

Ruxton's challenge came as it was intended to come, shortly, sharply, even with a suggestion of brutality in it. He had outraged his own feelings in doing so. He knew in his heart he had no doubt of this wonderful creature, but his mind, that simple, keen, straightforward organ, trained in the hypocritical world of diplomacy, dictated its will upon him. He had been asked to believe something very like a fairy-tale, and the lips which had formulated the request were the most perfect it had ever been his lot to behold. However, the dictates of his heart, the warm young manhood in him were still subservient to the trained mind. The day might come when rebellion would overthrow such sway, but, for the moment, it held.

The woman took no umbrage. There was a quickening of the rise and fall of her beautifully rounded bosom, but that was the only sign of emotion permitted to escape her.

"Your observation is – quick," she said, with a slightly heightened color. "And what if these things are – true? Are they so very significant?"

Ruxton shrugged. Something of the warmth had passed out of his eyes. But he displayed not the smallest impatience.

Then the woman smiled. Her smile grew into a deep musical laugh.

"I am foolish. I am not clever enough for the work entrusted to me," she cried, spreading out her hands in a deprecating manner. "Here am I striving to win your perfect confidence by methods which might well characterize the most absurdly cumbersome and blundering child. I am deputed to urge you to an enterprise that entails risks – untold; maybe I am striving to send you to your – death. And this work is vital to the world, and, more than all, to your country. We are both striving in the cause of humanity, partners bound by no other tie, and yet in my endeavor I am raising doubt in your mind. Doubt of me, doubt of my purpose, even doubt of my honor. That is so like a woman – isn't it?"

The smile which the self-denunciation raised upon the man's face no longer lacked warmth.

"The clever knave is rarely at a loss for explanation," he said drily. "The lack of explanation often carries conviction."

The woman's slumberous eyes only smiled the more deeply.

"I have explanations for all these things, and I would give them," she said promptly. "And those explanations might astonish you – a little. But at present I have only admission to make, which may have a disastrous effect upon my hopes. This is not my home. It is only a sort of – office. My name is not Vita Vladimir, except in part. And as for my wire to you, the moment the personnel of the new Cabinet was decided upon by Sir Meeston Harborough and his colleagues, the news was conveyed by the usual underground methods – abroad. That is all."