Part 16 (1/2)
Dolores gaily took John Pea.r.s.e by the hand and led him down the chamber to the dais on which stood the vacant chair of state of the dead Red Jabez. The great canopied bed still stood there; but it was curtained in, out of sight, and unused; Dolores preferred her own low couch, with its strangely beautiful composite furnis.h.i.+ngs of silk and tiger-skins, velvet and snowy polar-bear rugs, heaped high with luxurious cus.h.i.+ons that made it a restful lounge by day as well as a sleep-inviting couch by night.
Beside the couch, between it and the dais, Milo had set the treasure-chests, leaving the lids wide-flung, the contents but thinly concealed by silken shawls. The end of a rope of matchless pearls hung over the edge of one chest carelessly, without apparent motive; yet when she guided Pea.r.s.e to the couch and seated him, Dolores scanned his face with glinting eyes that peeped out through narrow slits. She saw his look of interest; then his mouth turned upward in a smile that said plainly: ”Here is a theatrical trick to impress me!”
”Now thy reward is come,” whispered Dolores, leaving him with an arch smile and kneeling before the big chests. She tore away the shawls and plunged her hands into the glittering h.o.a.rd to the wrists, flinging out upon the couch and the floor, upon Pea.r.s.e's knees and into his hands, rubies and emeralds, diamonds and pearls, golden chains and ornaments for the hair in a bewildering, stupendous litter. And, her face turned from him, her narrowed eyes were fixed upon him, and in their gleaming depths burned a smoldering anxiety that was nearing impatience.
For John Pea.r.s.e cloaked his feelings better than his fellows; he smiled at the shower of riches, met her questing glance with a smile, and smiled again with shaking head when she stood before him, aglow with yearning for his decision, and asked simply:
”Well?”
”Baubles, playthings, Dolores!” he laughed up at her. He seized her hands, stroked the satin-skinned forearm, and said softly: ”These are not worthy of such a woman as Dolores. These are but the gauds of a beautiful woman. To fit you, they should be the adornments of a G.o.ddess!”
”Oh, then thy lips uttered truth!” she cried delightedly. She stooped swiftly to him, twined her arms about his neck, and laid her warm cheek to his. ”Now I shall show thee treasures indeed, my John!”
She ran to the one chest yet unopened, and flung away the silk covering.
Here were the gems of the craftsman's art. Stones of unparalleled color and size were in this chest; but their chief merit lay in their cunning settings, their consummate delicacy of workmans.h.i.+p. Here the art collector might find his El Dorado; in all the world such a collection could scarcely be found in one place. Here were shrines and temples, carved from single immense stones or pieces of jade; here was a woven thing of gold and silver, in which the warp and woof lay close as tapestry, portraying as no tapestry could portray it the fabled valley of ”Sinbad,” in which the sands were gold, the sky silver, and the gems were gems indeed.
”Is this to thy mind?” Dolores cried, tossing to him a golden ball which by some amazing internal mechanism played fairy chimes as it whirled through the air.
Her lips parted in flushed pleasure at the result of her display, for John Pea.r.s.e was smitten with the collector's fever. He missed her ball through sheer inability to tear his eyes from the other treasures. And as his brain began to grasp the stupendous truth, to more readily estimate values, his eyes turned from the more gaudy works of art, and noticed, for the first time clearly, the pricelessness of many greater things of canvas and wood, ivory and gla.s.s, with which the apartment abounded.
”Now thy heart craves my treasures, too, eh?” she chided, gliding to him and laying a hand on his head. Yet she felt glad of his awakened interest. It was merely another card she might yet have to play.
”Astounding!” he gasped. His gaze fastened upon a boule bric-a-brac stand, on which stood an Aretine vase two feet high, of peerless form and glaze. The ticking of the great Peter Hele clock drew his attention to a work of ebony and ivory as scarcely could be believed as coming from man's hands.
”Now thou'rt of a kind with thy fellows!” she cried in anger. ”Look at me! No, thy eyes will not deign to seek me now!”
Pea.r.s.e s.n.a.t.c.hed his eyes away, and answered her with a laugh that sent her blood leaping again.
”My Dolores forgets she demanded my admiration for her treasures,” he said. ”What would you have, splendid one? Shall I say these treasures are still paltry, when I see their countless worth? Still I say you are the treasure beyond price. These are but a little more fitting for you.
That is all. Am I forgiven?”
He leaped to his feet, seized her hand, and attempted to slip an arm about her waist. She, lithe as a leopard, slipped from his grasp with a glad laugh that rippled in a low murmur to his hot ears, and intensified the glare that had come into his eyes. She failed to see that glare. It was the glare of greed; stark and utter greed, that counted no cost and brooked no opposition in driving for its ends.
”Thou art forgiven indeed!” she replied, panting and disheveled, a thing of wondrous loveliness. ”So far art thou forgiven that I shall put thy heart to the grand test at once. Of thy fellows none can compare with thee for scorn of wealth and desire of me. Sit down again, my man; let us reveal our inmost hearts to each other.”
She told him, keeping him at provoking distance, of her heart-hunger for the outside world, the world of art and things of beauty. She thrilled him with her vibrant voice, mesmerized him with her distant, caressing touch and glorious, limpid eyes. She made his blood pulse hotly with desire with her soft-spoken offer of self-surrender to the man who should lead her from her sovereignty over human beasts and set her feet in the high places of the earth.
”And with these my treasures, I shall make my man a king in truth,” she said, slipping along the couch toward him and laying both hands clasped on his arm. She threw back her head, shaking loose her great ma.s.ses of l.u.s.trous hair, and poured her soul at him from half-closed, moist eyes that gleamed like midnight pools in starlight. ”Yet must my chosen man a.s.sure me of his love for me, and his contempt for my riches. For, though my treasures shall be his, yet will I be first in his heart or forget him.”
”And first you are, and shall be, Dolores,” whispered Pea.r.s.e, leaning his chin on her forehead and glaring covetously at the littered wealth of the chests. ”What man of warm blood can see any other being or thing when Dolores is by?”
”Then come. I believe thee,” she said, rising slowly. ”Come with me, my man above price. See here.”
She swept back a piece of tapestry at the rear of the chamber, and disclosed a dark and gloomy cavern, hewn out of the solid rock, as was the greater cavern. From a brazier she took a pine splinter, lighted it, and beckoned Pea.r.s.e into the cave. And as soon as his eyes adjusted themselves to the gloom, he saw the place stowed tightly from floor to ceiling with kegs and half-casks, hooped and marked with black characters.
”Gold?” he gasped, perspiration starting to his brows.
”Gold!” Her rejoinder was tense, almost savage; she glared at him from under the torch, a quivering shape of disgust.
”Why, Dolores, don't look like that,” he laughed. ”I did but wonder. If this were all gold, it could not enhance your worth in my eyes.”