Constance's merry laugh aroused me from my reverie.
"What are you staring at?" she inquired.
"Nothing -- the fleet." I smiled.
Then Louis told us what the vessels were, pointing out each by its relative position to the old red fort on Governor's Island.
"That little cigar-shaped thing is a torpedo-boat," he explained;
"there are four more lying close together. They are the Tarpon,
the Falcon, the Sea Fox, and the Octopus. The gunboats
just above are the Princeton, the Champlain, the Still
Water, and the Erie. Next to them lie the cruisers Farragut
and Los Angeles, and above them the battle-ships California
and Dakota, and the Washington, which is the flagship. Those
two squatty-looking chunks of metal which are anchored there off Castle
William are the double-turreted monitors Terrible and Magnificent;
behind them lies the ram Osceola."
Constance looked at him with deep approval in her beautiful eyes. "What loads of things you know for a soldier," she said, and we all joined in the laugh which followed.
Presently Louis rose with a nod to us and offered his arm to Constance, and they strolled away along the river-wall. Hawberk watched them for a moment, and then turned to me.
Mr. Wilde was right," he said. "I have found the missing tassets and left cuissard of the 'Prince's Emblazoned,' in a vile old junk garret in Pell Street."
"998?" I inquired, with a smile. "Yes." "Mr. Wilde is a very intelligent man," I observed. "I want to give him the credit of this most important discovery,"
continued Hawberk. "And I intend it shall be known that he is entitled
to the fame of it." "He won't thank you for that," I answered, sharply; "please
say nothing about it." "Do you know what it is worth?" said Hawberk. "No -- fifty dollars, perhaps." "It is valued at five hundred, but the owner of the 'Prince's Emblazoned'
will give two thousand dollars to the person who completes his suit; that
reward also belongs to Mr. Wilde." "He doesn't want it! He refuses it!" I answered, angrily.
"What do you know about Mr. Wilde? He doesn't need the money. He is
rich -- or will be -- richer than any living man except myself. What will
we care for money then -- what will we care, he and I, when -- when --
" "When what?" demanded Hawberk, astonished. "You will see," I replied, on my guard again. He looked at me narrowly, much as Dr. Archer used to, and I knew he
thought I was mentally unsound. Perhaps it was fortunate for him that he
did not use the word lunatic just then. "No," I replied to his unspoken thought, "I am not mentally
weak; my mind is as healthy as Mr. Wilde's. I do not care to explain just
yet what I have on hand, but it is an investment which will pay more than
mere gold, silver, and precious stones. It will secure the happiness and
prosperity of a continent -- yes, a hemisphere!" "Oh," said Hawberk. "And eventually," I continued, more quietly, "it will
secure the happiness of the whole world." "And incidentally your own happiness and prosperity as well as
Mr. Wilde's?" "Exactly," I smiled, but I could have throttled him for taking
that tone. He looked at me in silence for a while, and then said, very gently:
"Why don't you give up your books and studies, Mr. Castaigne, and
take a tramp among the mountains somewhere or other? You used to be fond
of fishing. Take a cast or two at the trout in the Rangelys." "I don't care for fishing any more," I answered, without a
shade of annoyance in my voice. "You used to be fond of everything," he continued -- "athletics,
yachting, shooting, riding -- " "I have never cared to ride since my fall," I said, quietly.
"Ah, yes, your fall," he repeated, looking away from me. I thought this nonsense had gone far enough, so I turned the conversation
back to Mr. Wilde; but he was scanning my face again in a manner highly
offensive to me. "Mr. Wilde," he repeated; "do you know what he did this
afternoon? He came down-stairs and nailed a sign over the hall door next
to mine; it read: MR. WILDE Do you know what a Repairer of Reputations can be?" "I do," I replied, suppressing rage within. "Oh," he said again. Louis and Constance came strolling by and stopped to ask if we would
join them. Hawberk looked at his watch. At the same moment a puff of smoke
shot from the casemates of Castle William, and the boom of the sunset gun
rolled across the water and was re-echoed from the Highlands opposite.
The flag came running down from the flagpole, and bugles sounded on the
white decks of the warships, and the first electric light sparkled out
from the Jersey shore. As I turned into the city with Hawberk I heard Constance murmur something
to Louis which I did not understand; but Louis whispered "My darling!"
in reply; and again, walking ahead with Hawberk through the square, I heard
a murmur of "sweetheart!" and "my own Constance!" and
I knew the time had nearly arrived when I should speak of important matters
with my cousin Louis. One morning early in May I stood before the steel safe in my bedroom,
trying on the golden jewelled crown. The diamonds flashed fire as I turned
to the mirror, and the heavy beaten gold burned like a halo about my head.
I remembered Camilla's agonized scream and the awful words echoing through
the dim streets of Carcosa. They were the last lines of the first act,
and I dared not think of what followed -- dared not, even in the spring
sunshine, there in my own room, surrounded with familiar objects, reassured
by the bustle from the street and the voices of the servants in the hall-way
outside. For those poisoned words had dropped slowly into my heart, as
death-sweat drops upon a bed-sheet and is absorbed. Trembling, I put the
diadem from my head and wiped my forehead, but I thought of Hastur and
of my own rightful ambition, and I remembered Mr. Wilde as I had last left
him, his face all torn and bloody from the claws of that devil's creature,
and what he said -- ah, what he said! The alarm-bell in the safe began
to whir harshly, and I knew my time was up; but I would not heed it, and,
replacing the flashing circlet upon my head, I turned defiantly to the
REPAIRER OF REPUTATIONS
3rd Bell.
mirror. I stood for a long time absorbed in the changing expression of
my own eyes. The mirror reflected a face which was like my own, but whiter,
and so thin that I hardly recognized it. And all the time I kept repeating
between my clinched teeth, "The day has come! the day has come!"
while the alarm in the safe whirred and clamored, and the diamonds sparkled
and flamed above my brow. I heard a door open, but did not heed it. It
was only when I saw two faces in the mirror; it was only when another face
rose over my shoulder, and two other eyes met mine. I wheeled like a flash
and seized a long knife from my dressing-table, and my cousin sprang back
very pale, crying: "Hildred! for God's sake!" Then, as my hand
fell, he said: "It is I, Louis; don't you know me?" I stood silent.
I could not have spoken from my life. He walked up to me and took the knife
from my hand.
ARTWORK � Larry Loc 1997