xt72rb6vx68d https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt72rb6vx68d/data/mets.xml Buck, Charles Neville, b. 1879. 1911 books b92-178-30418530 English W.J. Watt, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Lighted match / by Charles Neville Buck ; illustrations by R.F. Schabelitz. text Lighted match / by Charles Neville Buck ; illustrations by R.F. Schabelitz. 1911 2002 true xt72rb6vx68d section xt72rb6vx68d

SHE HELD OUT HER IIAND T1 RENTON AND WATCHED, TRANCE-LIKE,
HIS LOWERED HEAD AS HE BENT HIS LIPS TO HER FINGERS.

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CHARLE S N EVI LLE
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The Key toYested7Y

Schabel itz
WJ.Watt Company
Publishers NewYork

COPRIGHT, 1911, BY

W. J. WATT COMPANY

PU44,4hr Alay

PRESS OF
BRAUNWORTH 00.
BOOKbINDERS AND PRINTERS
BROOKLYN, N. Y.

To K. du P.

This page in the original text is blank.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED. . . . . . 9
II BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN . . . . . 17
III THE AMOON OVERHEARS . . . . . . 28
IV THE DOCTRINE ACCORDING TO JONESY . . 40
V IT IS DECIDED TO MASQUERADE . . . . 49
VI IN WHICH ROMEO BEcoMEm DROMIIO . . 56
VII IN WHICH DROmiO BECOMES ROMEO . 70
VIII THE PRINCESS CONSULTS JONESY . . . 82
IX THE TOREADOR APPEARS . . . . . 92
X OF CERTAIN TRANSPIRINGS AT A CAFE
TABLE . . . . . . . . . . 102
XI THE PASSING PRINCESS AND THE MISTAKEN
COUNTESS . . . . . . . . . 112
XII BENTON MUST DECIDE . . . . . . 123
XIII CONCERNING FAREWELLS AND WARNINGS . 137
XIV COUNTESS AND CABINET NOIR JOIN FORCES 141
XV THE TOREADOR BECOMES AMBASSADOR . . 155
XVI THE AMBASSADOR BECOMES ADMIRAL . . 167
XVII BENTON CALLS ON THE KING . . . . 178
XVIII IN WHICH THE SPHINX BREAKS SILENCE . 190
XIX THE JACKAL TAKES THE TRAIL . . . . 203

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
XX THE DEATH OF ROMANCE is DEPLORED . 214
XXI NAPLES ASSUbMES N EW BEAUTY . . . . 222
XXII THE SENTRY-BOX ANSWERS THE KING'S
QUERY . . . . . . . . . . 229
XXIII "SCARABS OF A DEAD DYNASTY" . . . 214
XXIV IN XHICH IKINGS AND COMSMONERs Discuss
LOVE . . . . . . . . . .255
XXV ABDUL SAID BEY EFFECTS A RESCUE . 265

XXVI IN A CURIO SHOP IN STAMBOUL . 276
XXVII BENTON SAYS GOOD-BY . . . . . . 288
XXVIII JUSSERET MAKES A REPORT .300

THE LIGHTED MATCH

CHAPTER I

AN' ONIEN IS CONSTRUED

' 6N7HEN a feller an' a gal washes their handcs
t t in the same basin at the same time, it's a
tol'able good sign they won't git married this year."
The oracle spoke through the bearded lips of a
farmer perched on the top step of his cabin porch.
The while he construed omens, a setter pup industriously
gnawed at his boot-heels.
The girl was bending forward, her fingers spread
in a tin basin, as the man at her elbow poured water
slowly from a gourd-dipper. Heaped, in disorder
against the cabin wall, lay their red hunting-coats,
crops, and riding gauntlets.
The oracle tumbled the puppy down the steps and
watched its return to the attack. Then with something
of melancholy retrospect in his pale eyes he pursued
his reflections. " Now there was Sissy Belmire an'
Bud Thomas, been keeping company for two y ears,
then washed hands in common at the Christian Endeavor
9

THE LIGHTED MATCH

picnic an'-" He broke off to shake his head in sor-
rowing memory.
The young man, holding his muddied digits over the
water, paused to consider the matter.
Suddenly his hands went down into the basin with
a splash.
"It is now the end of October," he enlightened;
" next year comes in nine weeks."
The sun was dipping into a cloud-bank already pur-
pled and gold-rimmed. Shortly it would drop behind
the bristling summit-line of the hills.
The girl looked down at tell-tale streaks of red clay
on the skirt of her riding habit, and shook her head.
" 'Twill never, never do to go back like this," she sighed.
" They'll know I've come a cropper, and they fancy
I'm as breakable as Sevres. There will be no end of
questions."
The young Iran dropped to his knees and began in-
dustriously plying a brush on the damaged skirt. The
farmer took his eyes from the puppy for an upward
glance. His face was solicitous.
" When I saw that horse of yours fall down, it
looked to me like he was trying to jam you through to
China. You sure lit hard! "
" It didn't hurt me," she laughed as she thrust her
arms into the sleeves of her pink coat. "You see,
we thought we knew the run better than the whips,

AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED

and we chose the short cut across your meadow. My
horse took off too wide at that stone fence. That's
why he went down, and why we turned your house into
a port of repairs. You have been very kind."
The trio started down the grass-grown pathway to
the gate where the hunters stood hitched. The young
man dropped back a few paces to satisfy himself that
she was not concealing some hurt. He knew her half-
masculine contempt for acknowledging the fragility of
her sex.
Reassurance came as he watched her walking ahead
with the unconscious grace that belonged to her pliant
litheness and expressed itself in her superb, almost boy-
ish carriage.
When they had mounted and he had reined his bay
down to the side of her roan, he sat studying her through
half-closed, satisfied eyes though he already knew her
as the Moslem priest knows the Koran. While they
rode in silence he conned the inventory. Slim upright-
ness like the strength of a young poplar; eyes that
played the whole color-gamut between violet and slate-
gray, as does the Mediterranean under sun and cloud-
bank; lips that in repose hinted at melancholy and
that broke into magic with a smile. Then there was
the suggestion of a thought-furrow between the brows
and a chin delicately chiseled, but resolute and fascinat-
ingly uptilted.

THE LIGHTED MNATCH

It was a face that triumphed over mere prettiness
with hints of challenging qualities; with individuality,
with possibilities of purpose, with glints of merry humor
and unspoken sadness; with deep-sleeping potentiality
for passion; with a hundred charming whimsicalities.
The eyes were just now fixed on the burning beauty
of the sunset and the thought-furrow was delicately
accentuated. She drew a long, deep breath and, letting
the reins drop, stretched out both arms toward the
splendor of the sky-line.
" It is so beautiful - so beautiful!" she cried, with
the rapture of a child, " and it all spells Freedom. I
should like to be the freest thing that has life under
heaven. What is the freest thing in the world "
She turned her face on him with the question, and
her eyes widened after a way they had until they
seemed to be searching far out in the fields of untalked-
of things, and seeing there something that clouded them
with disquietude.
"I should like to be a man," she went on, " a man
and a hobo." The furrow vanished and the eyes sud-
denly went dancing. " That is what I should like to
he -a hobo with a tomato-can and a fire beside the
railroad-track."
The man said nothing, and she looked up to encounter
a steady gaze from eyes somewhat puzzled.
His pupils held a note of pained seriousness, and her

AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED

voice became responsively vibrant as she leaned forward
with answering gravity in her own.
" What is it " she questioned. " You are troubled."
Ile looked away beyond her to the pine-topped hills,
which seemed to be marching with lances and ragged
pennants, against the orange field of the sky. Then
his glance came again to her face.
" They call me the Shadow," he said slowly. " You
know whose shadow that means. These weeks have
made us comrades, and I am jealous because you are
the sum of two girls, and I know only one of them.
I am jealous of the other girl at home in Europe. I
am jealous that I don't know why you, who are seem-
ingly subject only to your own fancy, should crave the
freedom of the hobo by the railroad track."
She bent forward to adjust a twisted martingale,
and for a moment her face was averted. In her hidden
eyes at that moment, there was deep suffering, but when
she straightened up she was smiling.
"There is nothing that you shall not know. But
not yet-not yet! After all, perhaps it's only that
in another incarnation I was a vagrant bee and I'm
homesick for its irresponsibility."
" At all events "- he spoke with an access of boyish
enthusiasm -" I ' thank whatever gods may be' that
I have known you as I have. I'm glad that we
have not just been idly rich together. Why, Cara, do

THE LIGHTED MATCH

you remember the day we lost our way in the far
woods, and I foraged corn, and you scrambled stolens
eggs We were forest folk that day; primitive as
in the years when things were young and the best
families kept house in caves."
The girl nodded. " I approve of my shadow," she
affirmed.
The smile of enthusiasm died on his face and some-
thing like a scowl came there.
" The chief trouble," he said, " is that altogether
too decent brute, Pagratide. I don't like double
shadows; they usually stand for confused lights."
" Are you jealous of Pagratide " she laughed.
" He pretends to have a similar sentiment for you."
"Well," he conceded, laughing in spite of himself,
" it does seem that when a European girl deigns to
play a while with her American cousins, Europe might
stay on its own side of the pond. This Pagratide is
a commuter over the Northern Ocean track. He
harasses the Atlantic with his goings and comings."
" The Atlantic " she echoed mockingly.
" Possibly I was too modest," he amended. " I mean
me and the Atlantic - particularly me."
From around the curve of the road sounded a tem-
pered shout. The girl laughed.
" You seem to have summoned him out of space," she
suggested.

AN OMEN IS CONSTRUED

The man growled. " The local from Europe appears
to have arrived." He gathered in his reins with an
almost vicious jerk which brought the bay's head up
with a snort of remonstrance.
A horseman appeared at the turn of the road. Wav-
ing his hat, he put spurs to his mount and came forward
at a gallop. The newcomer rode with military upright-
ness, softened by the informal ease of the polo-player.
Even at the distance, which his horse was lessening under
the insistent pressure of his heels, one could note a boy-
ish charm in the frankness of his smile and an eagerness
in his eyes.
"I have been searching for you for centuries at
least," he shouted, with a pleasantly foreign accent,
which was rather a nicety than a fault of enunciation,
"but the quest is amply rewarded! "
He wheeled his horse to the left with a precision that
again bespoke the cavalryman, and bending over the
girl's gauntleted hand, kissed her fingers in a manner
that added to something of ceremonious flourish much
more of individual homage. Her smile of greeting was
cordial, but a degree short of enthusiasm.
" I thought -" she hesitated. " I thought you were
on the other side."
The newcomer's laugh showed a glistening line of the
whitest teeth under a closely-cropped dark mustache.
" I have run away," he declared. " My honored

THE LIGHTED MATCH

father is, of course, furious, but Europe was desolate
-and so-" He shrugged his shoulders. Then,
noting Benton's half-amused, half-annoyed smile, he
bowed and saluted. "Ah, Benton," he said. "How
are you I see that your eyes resent foreign invasion."
Benton raised his brows in simulated astonishment.
"Are you still foreign " he inquired. " I thought
perhaps you had taken out your first citizenship
papers."
" But you " Pagratide turned to the girl with
something of entreaty. " Will you not give me your
welcome "
In the distance loomed the tile roofs and tall chimneys
of " Idle Timjes." Between stretched a level sweep
of road.
" You didn't ask permission," she replied, with a
touch of disquiet in her pupils. " When a woman is
asked to extend a welcome, she must be given time to
prepare it. I ran away from Europe, you know, and
after all you are a part of Europe."
She shook out her reins, bending forward over the
roan's neck, and with a clatter of gravel under their
twelve hoofs, the horses burst forward in a sudden
neck and neck dash, toward the patch of red roofs set
in a mosaic of Autumn woods.

CHAPTER II

BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN

IN the large living-room, Van Bristow, the master of
" Idle Times," had expressed his tastes. Here in
the almost severe wainscoting, in inglenook and chim-
ney-corner, one found the index to his fancy. It was
his fancy which had dictated that the broad windows,
with sills at the level of the floor, should not command
the formal terraces and lawns of a landscape-gardener's
devising, but should give exit instead upon a strip of
rugged nature, where the murmur of the creek came up
through unaltered foliage and underbrush.
Shortening their entrance through one of the win-
dows, the trio found their host, already in evening dress.
Bristow was idling on the hearth with no more imme-
diate concern than a cigarette and the enjoyment of the
crackling logs, unspoiled by other light.
As the clatter of boots and spurs announced their
coming, Van glanced up and schooled his face into a
very fair counterfeit of severity.
"Lucky we don't make our people ring in on the
clock," he observed. " You three would be docked."
17

THE LIGHTED MATCH

The girl stood in the red glow of the hearth, slowly
drawing off her riding-gauntlets.
Pagratide went to the table in search of cigarettes
and matches, and as the light there was dim, the host
joined him and laid a hand readily enough upon the
brass case for which the other was fumbling. As he
held a light to his guest's cigarette, he bent over and
spoke in a guarded undertone. Benton noticed in the
brief flare that the visitor's face mirrored sudden sur-
prise.
" Colonel Von Ritz is here," confided Bristow. " Ar-
rived by the next train after you and was for posting
off in search of you instanter. He acted very much
like a summons-server or a bailiff. He's ensconced in
rooms adjoining yours. You might look in on him
as you go up to dress, He seems to be in the very
devil of a hurry."
Pagratide's brows went up in evident annoyance and
for an instant there was a defiant stiffening of his
jaw, but when he spoke his voice held neither excite-
ment nor surprise.
" Ah, indeed!" The exclamation was casual. He
watched the glowing end of his cigarette for a moment,
then magnanimously added: " However, since he has
followed across three thousand miles, I had better see
him."
The host turned to the girl. " I'm borrowing this

BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN

young man until dinner," he vouchsafed as he led
Pagratide to the door.
Cara stood watching the two as they passed into the
hall; then her face changed suddenly as though she
had been leaving a stage and had laid aside a part
-abandoning a semblance which it was no longer
necessary to maintain. A pained droop came to the
corners of her lips and she dropped wearily into the
broad oak seat of the inglenook. There she sat, with
her chin propped on her hands, elbows on her knees,
and gazed silently at the logs.
" Why did they have to come just now and spoil my
holiday "
She spoke as though unconscious that her musings
were finding voice, and the half-whispered words were
wistful. Benton took a step nearer and bent impul-
sively forward.
" What is it " he anxiously questioned.
She only looked intently into the coals with trouble-
clouded eyes and shook her head. He could not tell
whether in response to his words or to some thought of
her own.
Dropping on one knee at her feet, lie gently cov-
ered her hands with his own. He could feel the deli-
cate play of her breath on his forehead.
" Cara," he whispered, " what is it, dear
She started, and with a spasmodic movement caught

TIlE LIGHTED MIATCH

one of his hands, for an instant pressing it in her own,
then, rising, she shook her head with a gesture of the
fingers at the temples as though she would brush away
cobwebs that enmeshed and fogged the brain.
" Nothing, boy." Her smile was somewhat wistful.
"Nothing but silly imaginings." She laughed and
when she spoke again her voice was as light as if her
world held only triviality and laughter. " Yet there be
important things to decide. What shall I wear for
dinner "
" It's such a hard question," he demurred. " I like
you best in so many things, but the queen can do no
wrong - make no mistake."
A sudden shadow of pain crossed her eyes, and she
caught her lower lip sharply between her teeth.
" Was it something I said " he demanded.
" Nothing," she answered slowly. " Only don't say
that again, ever -' the queen can do no wrong.' Now,
I must go."
She rose and turned toward the door, then suddenly
carrying one hand to her eyes, she took a single tin-
steady step and swayed as though she would fall. In-
stantly his arms were around her and for a moment he
could feel, in its wild fluttering, her heart against the
red breast of his hunting-coat.
Her laugh was a little shaken as she drew away from

BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN

him and stood, still a trifle unsteady. Her voice was
surcharged with self-contempt.
" Sir Gray Eyes, I - I ask you to believe that I don't
habitually fall about into people's arms. I'm devel-
oping nerves - there is a white feather in my moral
and mental plumage."
He looked at her with grave eyes, from which he
sternly banished all questioning-and remained silent.
They passed out into the hall and, at the foot of the
stairs where their ways diverged, she paused to look
back at him with an unclouded smile.
" You have not told me what to wear."
His eyes were as steady as her own. " You will please
wear the black gown with the shimmery things all over
it. I can't describe it, but I can remember it. And a
single red rose," he judiciously added.
" 'Tis October and the florists are fifty miles away,"
she demurred. "It would take a magician's wand to
produce the red rose."
" I noticed a funny looking thing among my golf
sticks," he remembered. " It is a little bit like a niblick,
but it may be a magic wand in disguise. You wear the
black gown and trust to providence for the red rose."
She threw back a laugh and was gone.
When she disappeared at the turning, he wheeled and
went to the " bachelors' barracks," as the master of

THE LIGHTED AIATCH

" Idle Times " dubbed the wing where the unmarried
men were quartered.
Two suites next adjoining the room allotted to Ben-
ton had been unoccupied when he had gone out that
forenoon. Between his quarters and these erstwhile
vacant ones lay a room forming a sort of buffer space.
Here a sideboard, a card-table, and desk made the
" neutral zone," as Van called it, available for his guests
as a territory either separating or connecting their in-
dividual chambers.
Now a blaze of transoms and a sound of voices pro-
claimed that the apartments were tenanted. Benton
entered his own unlighted room, and then with his hand
at the electric switch halted in embarrassment.
The folding-doors between his apartment and the
" neutral territory " stood wide, and the attitudes and
voices of the two men he saw there indicated their in-
terview to be one in which outsiders should have no
concern. To switch on the light would be to declare
himself a witness to a part at least; to remain would
be to become unwilling auditor to more; to open the
door he had just closed behind him would also be to
attract attention to himself. He paused in momentary
uncertainty.
One of the men was Pagratide, transformed by
anger; seemingly taller, darker, lither. The second
man stood calm, immobile, with his arms crossed on

BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN

his breast, bending an impassive glance on the other
from singularly steady eyes. His six feet of well-
proportioned stature just missed an exaggeration of
soldierly bearing.
The unwavering mouth-line; level, dark brows almost
meeting over unflinching gray eyes; the uncurved nose
and commanding forehead were in concert with the
clean, almost lean sweep of the jaw, in spelling force for
field or council.
" Am I a brigand, Von Ritz, to be harassed by police
Answer me - am I " Pagratide spoke in a tempest of
anger. He halted before the other man, his hands
twitching in fury.
Von Ritz remained as motionless, apparently as
mildly interested, as though he were listening to the
screaming of a parrot.
" MAy orders were explicit." His words fell icily.
"They were the orders of His Majesty's government.
I shall obey them. I beg pardon, I shall attempt to
obey them; and thus far my attempts to serve His
Majesty have not encountered failure. I should pre-
fer not having to call on the ambassador-or the
American secret service."
"By God! If I had a sword-" breathed Pagra-
tide. His fury had gone through heat to cold, and his
attitude was that of a man denied the opportunity of
resenting a mortal affront.

THE LIGHTED AIATCH

VIon Ritz coolly inclined his head, indicating the
heaped-up luggage on the table between them. Other-
wise he did not move.
" The stick there, on the table, is a sword-cane,"
he commented.
Pagratide stood unmoving.
The other waited a moment, almost deferentially,
then went on with calm deliberation.
" You left your regiment without leave, captain.
One might almost call that -" Then Benton remem-
bered an auxiliary door at the back of his apartment
and made his escape unnoticed.
A half hour later, changed from boots and breeches
into evening dress, Benton was opening a long pack-
age which bore the name of his florist in town. In
another moment he had spread a profusion of roses on
his table and stood bending over them with the critically
selective gaze of a Paris.
When he had made the choice of one, he carefully
pared every thorn from its long stem. Then he went
out through the rear of the hall to a stairway at the
back.
He knew of a window-seat above, where he could
wait in concealment behind a screening mass of potted
palms to rise out of his ambush and intercept Cara
as she came into the hall. It pleased him to regard
himself as a genie, materializing out of emptiness to

241

BENTON PLAYS ;MAGICIAN

present the rose which she had chosen to declare unob-
tainable.
In the shadowed recess he ensconced himself with
his knees drawn up and the flower twirling idly be-
tween his fingers.
For a while he measured his vigil only by the ticking
of a clock somewhere out of sight, then he heard a quiet
footfall on the hardwood, and through the fronds of
the plants he saw a man's figure pace slowly by. The
broad shoulders and the lancelike carriage proclaimed
Von Ritz even before the downcast face was raised. At
Cara's door the European wheeled uncertainly and
paused. Because something vague and subconscious in
Benton's mind had catalogued this man as a harbinger
of trouble and branded him with distrust, his own eyes
contracted and the rose ceased twirling.
Just then the door of Cara's room opened and closed,
and the slender figure of the girl stood out in the sil-
houette of her black evening gown against the white
woodwork. Her eyes widened and she paled percepti-
bly. For an instant, she caught her lower lip between
her teeth; but she did not, by start or other overt mani-
festation, give sign of surprise. She only inclined
her head in greeting, and waited for Von Ritz to
speak.
He bowed low, and his manner was ceremonious.
" You do not like me-" Ile smiled, paiising as

THE LIGHTED MATCH

though in doubt as to what form of address he should
employ; then he asked: " What shall I call you"
" Miss Carstow," she prompted, in a voice that seemed
to raise a quarantine flag above him.
"Certainly, Miss Carstow," he continued gravely.
"Time has elapsed since the days of your pinafores
and braids, when I was honored with the sobriquet of
'Soldier-man' and you were the 'Little Empress.'"
His voice was one that would have lent itself to elo-
quence. Now its even modulation carried a sort of cold
charm.
" You do not like me," he repeated.
" I don't know," she answered simply. " I hadn't
thought about it. I was surprised."
" Naturally." He contemplated her with grave eyes
that seemed to admit no play of expression. " I came
only to ask an interview later. At any time that may
be most agreeable- Pardon me," he interrupted
himself with a certain cynical humor in his voice, " at
any time, I should say, that may be least disagreeable
to you."
" I will tell you later," she said. He bowed himself
backward, then turning on his heel went silently down
the stairs.
She stood hesitant for a moment, with both hands
pressed against the door at her back, and her brow
drawn in a deep furrow, then she threw her chin upward

926

BENTON PLAYS MAGICIAN

and shook her head with that resolute gesture which
meant, with her, shaking off at least the outward seem-
ing of annoyance.
Benton came out from his hiding-place behind the
palms, and she looked up at him with a momentary
clearing of her brow.
" Where were you " she asked.
" I unintentionally played eavesdropper," he said
humbly, handing her the rose. " I was lying in wait
to decorate you."
"It is wonderful," she exclaimed. "I think it is
the wonderfulest rose that any little girl ever had for
a magic gift." She held it for a moment, softly against
her cheek.
He bent forward. " Cara! " he whispered. No an-
swer. " Cara! " he repeated.
" Yeth, thir," she lisped in a whimsical little-girl
voice, looking up with a smile stolen from a fairy-tale.
" I am just lending you that rose. I had meant to
give it to you, but now I want it back - when you
are through with it. May I have it "
She held it out teasingly. " Do you want it now-
Indian-giver " she demanded.
" You know I don't," in an injured tone.
"I'm glad, because you couldn't have it - yet."
And she was gone, leaving him to make his appearance
from the direction of his own apartments.

2.7

CHAPTER III

THE MOON OVERHEARS

A T dinner the talk ran for a course or two with
the hounds, then strayed aimlessly into a dozen
discursive channels.
"Mv boy," whispered Mrs. Van from her end of
the table, to Pagratide on her right, " I relinquish you
to the girl on your other side. You have made a very
brave effort to talk to me. Ah, I know -" raising a
slender hand to still his polite remonstrance -" there is
no Cara but Cara, and Pagratide is-" She let her
mischief-laden smile finish the comment.
" Her satellite," he confessed.
" One of them," she wickedly corrected him.
The foreigner turned his head and nodded gravely.
Cara was listening to something that Benton was say-
ing in undertone, her lips parted in an amused smile.
Through a momentary lull as the coffee came, rose
the voice of O'Barreton, the bore, near the head of the
table; O'Barreton, who must be tolerated because as a
master of hounds he had no superior and a bare
quorum of equals.
"For my part," he was saying, " I confess an aug-
28

THE MOON OfVERHEARS

mented admiration for Van because he's distantly re-
lated to near-royalty. If that be snobbish, make the
most of it."
Van laughed. "Related to royalty" he scornfully
repeated. " Am I not myself a sovereign with the right
on election day to stand in line behind my chauffeur and
stable-boys at the voting-place "
"How did it happen, Van How did you acquire
your gorgeous relatives " persisted O'Barreton.
" Some day I'll tell you all about it. Do you think
the Elkridge hounds will run-"
" I addressed a question to you. That question is
still before the house," interrupted O'Barreton, with
dignity. " How did you acquire 'em "
" Inherited 'em! " snapped Van, but O'Barreton was
not to be turned aside.
" Quite true and quite epigrammatic," he persisted
sweetly. " But how "
Van turned to the rest of the table. " You don't
have to listen to this," he said in despair. " I have to
go through it with O'Barreton every time he comes
here. It's a sort of ritual." Then, turning to the tor-
menting guest, he explained carefully: " Once upon
a time the Earl of Dundredge had three daughters.
The eldest - my mother - married an American hus-
band. The second married an Englishman - she is the
mother of my fair cousin, Cara, there; the third and

THE LIGHTED MATCH

youngest married the third son of the Grand Duke of
Maritzburg, at that time a quiet gentleman who loved
the Champs Elysees and landscape-painting in South-
ern Spain."
Van traced a family-tree on the tablecloth with a salt-
spoon, for his guest's better information.
" That doesn't enlighten me on the semi-royal status
of your Aunt Maritzburg," objected O'Barreton.
" How did she grow so great "
" Vicissitudes, Barry," explained the host patiently.
" Just vicissitudes. The father and the two elder
brothers died off and left the third son to assume the
government of a grand duchy, which he did not want,
and compelled him to relinquish the mahl-stick and
brushes which he loved. iMy aunt was his grand-
duchess-consort, and until her death occupied with him
the ducal throne. If you'd look these things up for
yourself, my son, in some European 'Who's Who,' you'd
remember 'em - and save me much trouble."
After dinner Cara disappeared, and Benton wan-
dered from room to room with a seemingly purposeless
eye, keenly alert for a black gown, a red rose, and a
girl whom he could not find. Von Ritz also was miss-
ing, and this fact added to his anxiety.
In the conservatory he came upon Pagratide, likewise
stalking about with restlessly roving eyes, like a hunter
searching a jungle. The foreigner paused with one

THE MOON OVERHEARS

foot tapping the marble rim of a small fountain, and
Benton passed with a nod.
The evening went by without her reappearance, and
finally the house darkened, and settled into quiet.
Benton sought the open, driven by a restlessness that
obsessed and troubled him. A fitful breeze brought
down the dead leaves in swirling eddies. The moon was
under a cloud-bank when, a quarter of a mile from the
house, he left the smooth lawns and plunged among the
vine-clad trees and thickets that rimmed the creek. In
the darkness, he could hear the low, wild plaint with
which the stream tossed itself over the rocks that cum-
bered its bed.
Beyond the thicket he came again to a more open
space among the trees, free from underbrush, but
strewn at intervals with great bowlders. He picked his
way cautiously, mindful of crevices where a broken leg
or worse might be the penalty of a misstep in the dark-
ness. The humor seized him to sit on a great rock
which dropped down twenty feet to the creek bed, and
listen to the quieting music of its night song. His
eyes, grown somewhat accustomed to the darkness, had
been blinded again by the match he had just struck to
light a cigarette, and he walked, as it behooved him,
carefully and gropingly.
" Please, sir, don't step on me."
Benton halted with a start and stared confusedly

THE LIGHTED MATCH

about him. A ripple of low laughter came to his ears
as he widened his pupils in the effort to accommodate
his eyes to the murk. Then the moon broke out once
more and the place became one of silver light and dark,
soft shadow-blots. She was sitting with her back
against a tree, her knees gathered between her arms,
fingers interlocked. She had thrown a long, rough
cape about her, but it had fallen open, leaving visible
the black gown and a spot he knew to be a red rose on
her breast.
He stood looking down, and she smiled up.
" Cara! " he exclaimed. " What are you doing here
-alone "
" Seeking freedom," she responded calmly. " It's
not so good as the hobo's fire beside the track, but it's
better than four walls. The moon has been wonderful,
Sir Gray Eyes -as bright and dark as life; radiant a
little while and hidden behind clouds a great deal. And
the wind has been whispering like a troubadour to the
tree-tops."
" And you," he interrupted severely, dropping on
the earth at her feet and propping himself