Рекс Стаут - Her Forbidden Knight

“But what—” Knowlton began.

“Listen here,” Dougherty interrupted sternly; “are you going to obey orders or not? Hereafter Mrs. Knowlton can boss you. It’s our turn today.”

In pretended fright Knowlton turned to Lila and bade her au revoir with a pressure of the hand, then sprang into the automobile beside Dumain.

“That’s right,” said Dougherty. “Here you go, Mrs. Knowlton. Help the lady in, Driscoll. Come on, Siegel, with us. What’s that? Yes, you will — come on! All ready, boys? Let ’er go! So long! Remember, six o’clock!”

Eight gilt chairs with embroidered seats and backs surrounding a table covered with snowy linen and shining silver; four diminutive Swiss waiters with quick eyes and silent feet; roses everywhere — on the mantel, in vases on the table, clustered over the door, red and white; candles — hundreds of them — placed wherever there was an inch of space to hold them; such was the scene prepared by Bub Driscoll and his aids for the joy dinner in honor of Mr. and Mrs. John Knowlton, in that apartment on West Twenty-first Street which we have seen twice before.

Lila was escorted to the dining room on the arm of Lawyer Siegel, after an extended and heated controversy among the Erring Knights as to which of them should have that honor.

When it appeared that the matter was apt to be argued till the dinner was ruined, Siegel stepped in and settled the question by offering his services, which were gladly accepted.

Pierre Dumain, as host, sat at one end of the table; Knowlton at the other. On one side was Lila, between Dougherty and Driscoll; opposite them Booth, Jennings, and Siegel.

“What a shame!” said Lila. “I’m so excited I can’t eat.”

Driscoll observed:

“Now, that’s just like a woman. For two months you’ve been as cool and collected as a cake of ice, while you’ve had enough trouble to scare an army; and now that everything’s over, and you’re just at the beginning of a lifelong siege of matrimonial boredom, you’re so excited you can’t eat!”

“I never did a harder day’s work in my life,” declared Dougherty, “and I’m hungry like a bear. What do you call this, Driscoll? I’m no bridegroom — I can’t eat roses.”

But he was promptly squelched by the master of ceremonies, and everybody talked at once till the soup arrived.

Never was gayer company. Lila was at first a little embarrassed at finding herself the eighth at a table with seven men, but that did not last long; no longer, in fact, than when Dougherty, at the finish of the fish, arose to his feet to give an imitation of Miss Hughes chewing gum, powdering her face, and waiting on three customers at the same time.

“She never did,” declared Lila, when she could speak for laughing. “That’s a slander, Mr. Dougherty.”

“What?” exclaimed the ex-prizefighter. “I’ll admit it’s not true to life; it’s too delicate and refined. Not that I don’t like her; the Venus is a good sport. And if there’s any — What’s this?”

“Sweetbreads in tambo shell, m’sieu’,” murmured the waiter.

After which Dougherty was silent — and busy — for ten minutes.

Then Lawyer Siegel related some of his court experiences, both humorous and tragical, and Dumain described the mysteries and secrets of the gentle art of reading palms, and Jennings explained that his contract with Mr. Frohman would probably not be signed till the following day, and Dougherty described his first prizefight with an animation and picturesqueness of language that left the others in a condition bordering on hysteria.

“There’s one thing,” said Driscoll, turning to Lila, “for which I shall never forgive you — that you didn’t invite me to the wedding.”

“Here, too,” put in Jennings. “I call it snobbish.”

“Where was it, anyway?” Booth wanted to know. “How did you manage it?”

Dougherty explained:

“Easy. You know we got Knowlton out on bail for one day. Well, he got a license and I got a preacher, and Dumain let us use his French parlor, and stuff was all off in fifteen minutes, but you may get to see a wedding, after all.”

Dougherty glanced at Knowlton. Knowlton nodded. Then the ex-prizefighter continued:

“We all know that our friend Mr. Knowlton is traveling sort of incog. His real name is Norton, and that fact demands what you might call supplementary proceedings. The big show is on tomorrow, and if you treat Mrs. Knowlton right she’s very apt to give you a bid.”

“Hurrah!” shouted Driscoll. “In at the death is all I ask.”

“What an expression!” said Lila. “Mr. Driscoll, I’m offended.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the gentleman gallantly. “I didn’t mean it, I assure you. Waiter!”

“Yes, sir.”

“If I order another bottle of white wine—”

“Yes, sir.”

“I say, if I order more white wine—”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t bring it.”

“Yes, sir. No, sir.”

The table grinned, and made a concerted and valiant attack on the dessert, while Jennings and Booth accused each other with some heat of being the cause of Driscoll’s order.

Presently Driscoll rapped on the table for attention, and glared fiercely at the disputants till he got it.

“Lady and gentlemen,” said he, “I must ask your kind favor and indulgence. Unlike the rest of this proud assembly, Mr. Jennings and myself are workingmen. We earn our bread by toil.”

Cries of “Hear, hear!” came from Jennings, while the others jeered.

“Howbeit,” continued the speaker, silencing the interruptions with an imperious gesture, “we must be at our tasks by eight o’clock. It is now seven-twenty.

“I understand that Mr. Dumain has a surprise in store for us, and that Mr. Knowlton has kindly consented to make a speech. In the interests of equality and justice I demand that these ceremonies begin at once.”

Applause, continued and vociferous, from Jennings. Booth and Siegel each grasped one of his arms and held him quiet. Driscoll turned to Dumain and demanded an answer.

“All right,” said the little Frenchman, “I’m ready.”

“What about it?” Driscoll turned to the others.

They signified their approval. Knowlton, who had been silent throughout the dinner, nodded. Dumain rose to his feet, pushed back his chair, and cleared his throat.

“About zee surprise,” the little Frenchman began; “eet ees a pleasant surprise. We are here this evening—”

“Hear, hear!” murmured Jennings.

“Silence him!” ordered Driscoll. Booth and Siegel obeyed, and the speaker continued:

“I say we are here this evening because our hearts are glad for our friend Mr. Knowlton and our very dear lady — God bless her! — zee Lady Lila!”

“To her!” shouted Dougherty, springing to his feet and raising his glass on high.

“To Lady Lila!” came in a deafening chorus, while Lila rose to her feet, trembling and confused.

They drank the toast amid cheers and applause.

“And now,” continued Dumain, when they had reseated themselves, “for zee surprise. I must go back a leetle, and I do not speak zee Angleesh so well, so you must have zee patience.

“About Knowlton eet ees — only hees name ees Norton. I can only tell what I know. From what Sherman and our very dear lady have say to me I add zis to zat, and I know nearly all.

“I know he was officer in a bank in Warton, Ohio, and zat money was missing, and zat our friend was what you call eet suspicioned. And about zis Sherman tol’ me, and from what he look at me I theenk to myself, aha! Sherman know more zan he say.

“Well, I theenk very little about all zat — I nearly forget eet because we are all busy wiz trying to put Knowlton away from all. For many weeks I forget eet.”