<SPAN name="CHAPTER_XII_APPROACHING_A_WORLD_OF_MYSTERY" id="CHAPTER_XII_APPROACHING_A_WORLD_OF_MYSTERY"></SPAN>
<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
<h3>APPROACHING A WORLD OF MYSTERY.</h3>
<p>Gaston Brielle, the strawberry blonde French
chauffeur who piloted the big, luxurious motor car
Jabez Hogg of Omaha had placed at the service of
Mrs. Elvira Burton and her two charming young
nieces, did not have his mind entirely concentrated
upon manipulating the wheel and throttle of the
car as he swung around Grant’s Tomb and sped southward
down the Drive. While his knowledge of English
was confined to a few expletives of a profane
nature and the mystic jargon of the garage, he was
nevertheless thrilled by the belief that the two mademoiselles
behind him were plotting some mysterious
enterprise.</p>
<p>From time to time they had unconsciously dropped
their voices to the low tones commonly used by conspirators,
or at least that was the way Gaston had
sensed it. Along the silent roads of Central Park
and Riverside Drive, where even the taxis seemed to
employ their mufflers and to resort less frequently to
the warning racket of their exhausts, the Frenchman
had been straining his ears to listen.</p>
<div></div>
<p>He had heard on two occasions what he divined as
a manifest sob, first when the emotional Sadie gave
way to tears and again when Helen was aggravated
to a petulant outburst of grief.</p>
<p>Later when he heard bright laughter and gay exclamations
he could hardly believe his ears. He was
profoundly troubled and completely bewildered––a
dangerous state of mind for a man who has the power
of seventy horses under the pressure of his thumb.</p>
<p>Nor was his mental turmoil in the least alleviated
when, having turned south and being on the point of
coasting down a precipitous hill he felt a touch on
his shoulder and heard the elder of his two pretty
passengers command him in worse French than his
own poor English to go slow when he turned into
Fifth avenue again and be prepared to stop.</p>
<p>Gaston knew that this was in direct violation of
his orders from Mrs. Burton, but when he saw a yellow-backed
bill flutter down over his shoulder his
quick intelligence blazed with understanding. His
first groping suspicions had been justified. There was
romance in the wind. Steering easily with one hand,
Gaston deftly seized the bill and caused it to vanish
somewhere in his great fur coat.</p>
<p>Sadie Burton had been horror-stricken at this bold
proffer of a bribe. Likewise she was alarmed that
Helen should put so much trust in Gaston, who
seemed to be in mortal terror of her aunt and to
quake all through his body when he listened to her
commands.</p>
<div></div>
<p>As Helen sank back beside her, after letting fall
the bribe, the agitated Sadie whispered tremulously:</p>
<p>“Are you sure you can trust him, Helen? If he
should tell Auntie El she would surely make you a
prisoner. You will never get a chance to leave her
side at the opera to-night.”</p>
<p>“Gaston is a Frenchman, my dear,” laughed Helen,
confidently, “and most Frenchmen––even chauffeurs,
I am sure––would cut their hearts out before they
would oppose a barrier to the course of true love.”</p>
<p>But Helen’s gayety did not communicate itself to
Sadie. That shy miss trembled apprehensively as
she sought to picture herself in Helen’s place––on the
verge of an elopement. Not that such a prospect
did not have its alluring thrill even to such a shrinking
maiden as the violet-eyed Sadie, but her fear of
her aunt seemed to crush and obliterate these titillating
sensations. As the car shot through Seventy-second
street and headed for the entrance to the West
Drive of Central Park, she ventured another word
of caution.</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t it be better to send a messenger to Mr.
Gladwin’s house, Helen? Suppose we should run
into somebody there who knew auntie?”</p>
<p>“You ridiculously little fraid-cat,” Helen caught
her up. “Of course there’ll be nobody there but
Travers, or perhaps his man or some of the other
servants. He has good reason for keeping very quiet
now and sees absolutely nobody, not even––not even––not
even his grandmother, if he has one.”</p>
<div></div>
<p>“And didn’t he tell you whether or not he had a
grandmother, Helen?” gasped Sadie.</p>
<p>But Helen disdained to reply, her heart suddenly
filling with rapture at the prospect of an immediate
meeting with her betrothed.</p>
<hr class="toprule" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.