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PAGE TWO
Rival Adventure
by Cameron Dockery
CHAPTER XIII
It was 10 o’clock. Belle Fleur
seemed strangely silent. Lotus
stood on the broad gallery out
side her bedroom and saw the
stars reflected with startling
clarity in the waters of the la
goon. From the bayous came the
hoarse croaking of frogs and the
occasional plaintive whimper of
a swamp owl.
Stacy had not yet returned
from New Orleans.
His father, Lotus thought and;
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hoped, had retired to his own
room with a book.
1 She wondered suddenly if this
wasn’t the moment to do a little
; i snooping. The servants, to all ap
| pearances, were in their quarters
(behind the house and she would
' have the spacious old rooms to
: herself.
j She had seen Stacy use a flash
light that was kept in a drawer
jof the first floor hall table. She
(would need it for what she had
I planned to do. As she tiptoed
down the hall, light gleamed
Ifrom under Curtis Corbin’s door.
(She found the flash and decid
ed to examine the library first.
She played her light over the
(room and examined the contents
of the massive library table
drawers. It seemed a purposeless
search, as she was not sure what
!she was looking for. If Corbin
were a dope smuggler, he could
have dozens of hollowed-out
books filled with the stuff and
she would have to examine each
one separately to find out. It was
much too big a task for one per*
son.
The door to Curtis Corbin’s
study was open and she moved
across to it. Den was rather a
contradictory term to apply to
this room, she decided, for it was
easily as large as the library.
She moved the bright spot of
light across the walls; and eyes,
stony and belligerent, gleamed
back at her!
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The walls were covered by the
stuffed and mounted heads of }
various animals; it was their
glassy, taxidermists eyes that
had frightened her.
Quickly, she rifled through the
| contents of the desk. The papers
all referred to business deals
'which meant nothing to her. She
j moved the light around again.
This time it fell on a large pack
ing box, from which excelsior
and shredded newspapers pro
truded.
She peered in and gasped. . . .
The boa constrictor lay coiled
up in its bed of straw, its skin
gleaming naturally. Though she
knew it was dead, it was several
moments before she could bring
herself to examine it.
Leaving quickly, she tiptoed
into the dining room and ob
tained a steel knife from the
buffet. Returning to the boa, she
ripped out several of the stitches
with a few quick jerks and then !
reached into the opening.
Her fingers closed on more ex
celsior. Though she continued to
feel around, stuffing was all her
exploring hands contacted. With
a deep sigh of disappointment,
she returned the snake to its
original position.
Suddenly, her ears caught the
sound of soft, shuffling footsteps .
descending the stairs. Curtis Cor- j
bin was returhing to the library. 1
Suddenly, the front door was
thrust open and Stacy came in. 1
“Hi, Dad!” He sounded as
though he were forcing himself
to be jovial.
Curtis Corbin’s answering tone
was cool and deliberate. “Well,
did you make any progress?”
“Os a sort. Aline and her
grand-aunt are coming out here
tomorrow for a three-day visit.”
There was a strained silence,
then . . .
“Now, listen, Dad, Rosa is not
bad. She’s just different from
your brand of feminine society.”
I “That’s neither here nor there.
There’s no way we can explain
her presence here. The Cartier
women will be insulted. It’ll ruin
everything.”
“I don’t care if it does. This
romance is your idea, not mine.”
“Well, you’d better make it
yours. I think I told you what
would happen if you didn’t carry
out my plans. You’ve lived a soft
life Stacy. You might find earn
ing your own living not an easy
proposition.”
There was an ugly pause. When
next he spoke, Stacy's voice was
modified.
“Well, they practically insisted
on coming—there was nothing I
could do. I’ll fix things up O. K.
—l’ll give them a sob story about
Rosa being sick and alone, and
they’ll think we’re being kind to
her. I’ll explain it to Rosa; she’s
a good kid, she’ll play along.”
“She’d better,” Corbin’s voice
rasped, “or we’ll find some other
solution for her.”
The next afternoon Lotus
watched the arrival of Aline
Cartier and her spinster grand
aunt from her own gallery.
The aunt was a finely-drawn
portrait of what Aline could ex- j
pect to be at 60—slight, erect,!
with an aristocratic head borne
proudly on her slim, aging shoul
ders.
Curtis Corbin strode down the
terraced brick steps to greet
them.
Lotus noted with amusement
that he had undergone a strange
me t a morphosis of character.
Now he was very much the gen
tleman of the old South. He had
donned a silk pongee suit and a
flowing black tie. In his fingers
was the ever-present expensive
Havana cigar—which was not an
affectation. He bowed low over
Miss Cartier’s hand, as though
he were about to kiss it. Evi
dently the same idea occurred to
the older woman, for she with
drew it from his warm clasp with
haste.
Lotus shrank back into the
shadows as the foursome neared
the house. Her thoughts were
seething. It had never occurred
to her that the Cartier family
had been the previous owners of
Belle Fleur. And considering the
dispicable manner in which Cur
tis Corbin had acquired it, how
could Aline and her grand-aunt
bring themselves to visit here?
Stacy must have done his job
we ii—evidently Aline had fallen
head over heels in love.
When the group was in the
house, Lotus slipped down the
stairs and across the grounds to
the rendezvous with Stu Law
rence.
He was there in the pirogue,
looking as ill-kempt and fierce
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as ever. His eyes were an amber
color, and from the shadow of
the cypress and the swarthiness
of his bearded face, they peered
back at her like some wild beast.
To her dismay, she felt her
heartbeat quicken at the sight of
him.
She told him about the snake
and the new arrivals at Belle
Fleur, then, though she longed
to linger, left hurriedly, for fear
Lachene would discover her.
Since that first meeting with
Lawrence, the gardener always
seemed to be somewhere in the
background when she thought
she was alone —suddenly appear
ing to cut the grass or prune the
bushes or pick flowers for Belle
Fleur’s Sevres vases. She was
certain that Curtis Corbin had
assigned him to watch her.
As she re-entered the house,
she was introduced to the new
comers.
From their lack of astonish
ment, she realized that Stacy
and his father had already pre
pared the Cartier women with
their sob story, but in spite of
this, the older woman was un
able to prevent a faint frown of
displeasure from wrinkling her
forehead.
In the garden below, Stacy was
making love to Aline Cartier,
(even urging an immediate mar
! riage. He was suggesting that he
bring a minister to Belle Fleur,
to perform the wedding during
their visit, so that old Mr. Car
tier could not interfere. To Lot
us’ dismay, Aline was peculiarly
acquiescent to everything he
said.
In a moment the elder Miss
Cartier entered from her own
bedroom.
Her voice was inclined to be
high and at this moment indig
nation made it shrill. . . .
“Aline, I’m astonished at Stacy
inviting us here when that Miss
Kirkman is around—it’s sheer
effrontery!”
“Hush, she’ll hear you!”
“Oh, I’ve nothing against the
girl personally—she’s really quite
pretty and charming, but a cab
aret entertainer, and unchap
eroned!”
“But Mr. Corbin explained all
that—he said she was sick and
had no friends or any place to
go.”
“Humph! She looks healthy
enough to me. And Curtis Cor
bin doesn’t strike me as an ex
actly kind-hearted individual.”
| There was a pause, then Miss
Cartier said in a querulous tone,
“What were you and Stacy talk
ing about in the garden all eve
ning?”
“He wants.,me to marry him,
Tante.”
“Marry you, eh? Let me look
in your eyes, child —you’re not
deeply in love with him—are you
Aline?”
“Noooo, but it would mean
getting Belle Fleur back in the
family.”
Lotus was astonished by old
Miss Cartier’s words. It was al
most as though she were willing
to let Aline make an unhappy
marriage if it meant getting
Belle Fleur back in possession of
the Cartier family.
And how misguided they both
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were to think that!
When the lights were off in all
the rooms extending off the:
broad gallery, she left her own
room and tiptoed to the French
doors opening onto Aline’s.
The soft, luminescent light
from the stars showed the deep;
shadows of the massive Victorian
furniture and the small, hud-1
died figure of Aline in the vast 1
spaciousness of her bed.
She’s like a water lily, the old
er girl thought, and almost as
fragile. She crossed the room and
sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Miss Cartier, I must talk to
you!” Her whisper was urgent.
“How dare you come into my
room! ”
Aline reached for her silken
bed jacket. “I can think of noth
ing we could discuss in com
mon.”
Her young voice shook with
anger and snobbery.
Lotus gave an exasperated lit
tle sigh. She would have to over
come this barrier of class dis
tinction between Aline and her
self before she could talk to the
girl intelligently.
“My case job is only a tem
porary expedient,” she said now. |
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t explain further, and
it doesn’t matter. Miss Cartier, I
came in to tell you that you must
not marry Stacy Corbin.”
“So that’s it!”
Aline sucked in her breath in
a queer, sibilant little hiss. “I
suppose you’re going to tell me
that you’re Stacy’s mistress?”
“No, that’s not true. Stacy
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means nothing to me.”
“Then what do you care
whether I marry him or not?”
“Because if you do you’ll be
involving yourself, your family
name and all it stands for in a
scandal that will make the head
lines of every newspaper in the
country.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, I’m trying to save you
from a tragic mistake.”
Aline’s voice was curious now.
“But why?”
“I can’t tell you any more,
Aline, unless you promise not to
repeat a word or it. I’m not ex
aggerating when I say my life
would be worth absolutely noth
ing if Curtis Corbin knew I was
talking to you this way.”
(To Be Continued)
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