Dark Mondays (16 page)

“ ‘I am Certain the Servants will let me out To-Morrow whilst Papa goes to his Odious Campaign Meeting, for they all Detest him as much as I do, especially Daisy, whom he has Treated in a Beastly Manner I will not soil my pen with Describing. And even were they not to be bribed, what Papa does not know is that one can quite Easily climb from my Window to the little Porch above the Breakfast Room and so down the Drainpipe to the Garden, and then you know the Streetcar Tracks run right past the Corner.

“ ‘But all of this Availeth us Not but to a Temporary Reunion, unless your Passion is the Equal of mine. Darling, I really think we must Elope. You surely have seen plenty of folks do it over in France where people are less Cold-Blooded than Over Here and I bet you would have no trouble making the Arrangements. And then, what Bliss & Ecstasy awaits us!!

“ ‘Though I hope you will not come to Smoke or Drink, Jack, for I find those to be Intolerable vices. Nor go to the races. Nor take up with a lot of Objectionable fellows and stay out late much. And I do expect you will Permit me to Manage the Household Accounts. I feel my poor Mama’s Health was Considerably Wrecked by Quarreling and I don’t much think you ought to oppose a dear and loving Wife who only seeks your Happiness.

“ ‘Lest you have any Fearful Considerations—you know I am of Age, and that my late Mama’s whole Fortune was settled on me to inherit at my Marriage. So I am sure Papa Dreads any such Happy Day for me on account of he is Heavily in Debt and after the way he Carried On just now I am Determined to cut him off without one Red Cent and serve him right.

“ ‘Daisy is waiting to take this down to the Post Office so it goes right out. She always collects the mail too so she will Intercept your Reply and bring it right up. Write back Immediately, Jack Dearest, and tell me our Hearts will soon Beat as One. Your own adoring Evangeline Rigby (or so I fondly anticipate).’ ”

Dick sat appalled, his sandwich half-eaten, as Madame Rigby finished the letter and folded it carefully. Her eyes glowed with a hellish light. She dropped the end of her cigarette, stepped on it, and took a hearty drink of brandy. Setting the glass down, she said:

“Dick, I want you to go over to the Palace right now, and reserve a suite of rooms for tomorrow night. Here’s a pair of twenty-dollar gold pieces. Get the best you can.”

“Good God!” cried Dick. “You can’t mean to—”

“Why, Dick, whatever do you take me for?” said Madame Rigby. “Weren’t you listening to that poor child’s letter? She’s in deadly peril! When she’s an heiress, and her wicked father’s in debt? I imagine he’s planning her destruction even now. You don’t know him as I do! We must convey her to safety, and she can’t come here; it wouldn’t be proper.”

“Forgive me,” said Dick, abashed. He pocketed the money and ran out, and an hour later had secured a fine suite of rooms for the following evening.

Madame Rigby was not there when he returned. Suffused with feelings of dread, he peered into Jack’s cabinet. Jack opened his eyes and looked at him, as though inquiringly. Dick heard the door opening behind him, and, closing the cabinet with an air of guilt, turned to see Madame Rigby entering the room.

“Where have you been?” said Dick.

“Mailing a letter,” she replied. “Did you do as I told you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Dick. He dug in his pocket and found the receipt, which he handed to her. Madame Rigby took it eagerly, studied it a moment, and then tucked it away in her reticule.

“Now, Dick,” she said, “I’m going to be busy all day tomorrow, so you’ll have to mind the exhibition yourself. See that you telephone the moving men and engage a van for Monday.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Dick. “Shall I take Jack with me tomorrow?”

“No,” said Madame Rigby.

This filled Dick with suspicions so horrible he was scarcely able to name them even to himself; how much less, then, was he able to utter them to the composed and masterful woman who stood before him?

Long he lay awake that night in shameful torments, before falling into uneasy slumbers full of dreams of Evangeline: as a dainty and gossamer-winged butterfly trapped in the net of a squat spider, or as a tiny, jointed doll waltzing round and round in the arms of Professor Honorius, or bound in a straitjacket as she screamed, and screamed again without cease.

During the long streetcar ride the next morning, Dick was so dogged by the fantastic horrors of the previous night that he felt obliged to go straight to the bar, upon his arrival at Cliff House, and fortify himself with a stiff drink.

The whiskey braced him enough to enable him to open the exhibition for the day, but did not quiet his misgivings. As soon as the doors had been opened and visitors were filing through, Dick went back down to the bar and had another whiskey, and then another. By noon, the accumulated effects of four whiskies with a breakfast of stale pretzels had reduced Dick to a sorry condition indeed.

Unable to bear his apprehension any longer, Dick then pulled out a memorandum book and, tearing out its blank back pages, wrote in pencil a long and somewhat incoherent letter. In it he revealed as much as he understood of Madame Rigby’s melancholy history, as well as the truth of Jack’s extraordinary origins, in some detail. He ended with the earnest assurance that he disclosed these things only to spare Evangeline greater shock and humiliation.

Having acquired an envelope from the proprietor of the souvenir stand, Dick ventured out and caught a streetcar, and spent an unsteady eternity rattling across town. At last he spotted the Palace Hotel and leaped off in mid-block, under the nose of an affronted draft horse. Leaving chaos in his wake, he lurched into the vast hotel lobby and slid the envelope over the desk, with a slurred request that it might be delivered to suite 507, when the party for whom it had been reserved should check in.

Dick meant to return then to his duties at Cliff House. He may have done so; he certainly got as far as the bar there, but his next clear memory was of being at Sutro’s Baths, struggling into a woolen bathing costume that seemed to have been made for a one-legged man. The clearest memory after that was of being held upright in an ice-cold shower bath by a pair of muscular attendants.

At some point after that Dick found himself on the floor of the workshop, and made his way on hands and knees to the far wall. There he meant to pull down the window-drapes to serve as blankets, but somehow failed to do so. He attempted to get Jack to help him, but the doors of the cabinet were standing ajar; nothing was in there but the long, brass key, which seemed to have fallen to the floor and been overlooked. Dick put the key in his pocket and, weeping for the sorrow and the pity of it all, curled up and went to sleep.

“Well! You’re some pretty picture, aren’t you?” said a voice, high-up and distant and yet shockingly loud. Dick groaned and opened his eyes. He was greeted by the spectacle of a giantess looming above him, arms akimbo, smiling widely.

He lay there, stupefied, until Madame Rigby flung open the drapes and let in the light of broad noon. He flung up an arm to shield himself from its poisonous brilliance, and as he did so realized that he had failed to close down the exhibition, or to empty the coin boxes either, on the previous night.

“Oh, ma’am—I’m so awfully sorry—It won’t ever happen again!” he said.

“Why, that’s all right,” said Madame Rigby, lighting a cigarette. “By rights I ought to fire you, but I’m feeling the most extraordinary peace today. Take your time getting up, Dick; no need to hurry. We don’t sail until this afternoon.”

Dick sat up. As he did so a newsboy screamed out, very nearly under the window:

“EXTRA! Congressman Gookin dead! Fremont T. Gookin suicide suspected!”

“What?” said Dick, as the floor seemed to roll like the breakers at Ocean Beach. Madame Rigby laughed quietly.

“ ‘
Suspected
?’ ” she said scornfully. “Why, he had the gun in his hand. They found him stretched out in front of his dressing-room mirror. At least, that’s what the morning edition says.” She held it up for Dick to see. “Care to read for yourself? There’s no mention of anyone finding my letter, though; so I suppose he had the good sense to burn it first.”

“What letter?”

“The one I left for him, when I called in a cab for Miss Evangeline,” Madame Rigby replied. “Don’t you remember? We were going to assist her in her escape. We drove straight to the chapel.”

Dick scrambled to his feet, as memory overtook him. He cast a swift glance at Jack’s cabinet; its doors still stood open, revealing its emptiness.

“Where’s Jack?” he shouted.

Madame Rigby’s smile widened further still, giving her something of the air of a happy crocodile.

“On his honeymoon,” she said, and roared with laughter as Dick staggered backward.

“Oh—oh, heaven! You old witch! Oh, how could you?” Dick gasped. “I’ll go to the police!”

“Oh, no, you won’t,” said Madame Rigby. “Just you think for a moment about your future, mister. I can teach you all I know; the world will be your oyster. I’ve booked us a pair of berths on the
Belle Etoile
, and we’ll be sailing off to Paris long before that girl stops screaming.

“You
can
stay here, if you like; but you’ll have a real hard time convincing anyone you weren’t my accomplice. Didn’t I tell you that, whatever happened, I’d come out the winner? Well, I have.”

Jack stared at her, breathing hard. At last he said:

“But—the exhibition—Jack—”

Madame Rigby waved her hand impatiently. “Trash. I built ’em for one purpose; well, that purpose is served.” She cast a glance at the newspaper, and smiled again. “And well served too. I’ll build something new and better next time—”

The door was thrown open.

Evangeline stood on the threshold, looking pale but determined. Madame Rigby glared at her like a startled cat; but smiled nonetheless, after a moment’s silence, and drew on her cigarette.

“Why, Evangeline dear,” she said. “So sorry to hear about your papa.”

“It was scarcely a surprise,” said Evangeline coolly. “He was being blackmailed by at least three women, and with the re-election coming up their demands were becoming importunate. Or so I should judge from his bank withdrawals. I really do fear you cannot take all the credit for his untimely death.”

Madame Rigby’s smile froze.

“Miss Gookin—I had nothing to do with—” Dick began, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

“
Mrs. Rigby
, if you please. You haven’t asked after Jack, dear mother-in-law! And may I say I cannot thank you enough for your kindness yesterday? I confess to being a little astonished on my wedding night, but what married woman is not? I soon came to realize my good fortune. For, you see, Jack is so perfectly the sort of husband I had wanted; so patient, and understanding, and obedient. And
untiring
,” added Evangeline, as a lovely flush came into her cheeks.

Madame Rigby gaped at her, until the sense of her last word sank in, and dropped the cigarette. Her face empurpled with fury.

“You—he—oh—oh, that damned boy from the Polytechnic!” she shrieked.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” said Evangeline. “And I’ll thank you not to use such language. In any case, I did not come here to speak to you.” She turned to Dick. “Admirable as my darling husband is in so many ways, he is nonetheless a trifle forgetful. I should like to engage your services as his valet. You will be handsomely remunerated.”

Dick blinked at her.

“Don’t you dare go, you little crawling bastard!” said Madame Rigby. Evangeline spared her only a pained glance. She smiled enchantingly at Dick as she extended a hand to him.

“Recall that I am now in possession of a fortune which, if not quite as splendid as it once was, is still considerably more than it might have been had poor dear papa lived to continue stealing from it.
Handsomely
remunerated, sir.”

Dick seemed to wake up. He stood straight, shook his hair out of his eyes, adjusted his coat and lapels, and shook Evangeline’s hand most energetically. “Yes, ma’am!” he said.

He grabbed his hat and followed her out the door.

Madame Rigby was left alone. At length she noticed the curl of smoke rising from her forgotten cigarette. She stamped it out, cursing, and rolled herself a new one. Looking around, she spotted the little devil and wound him up. He winked and offered her a jet of flame. She leaned down to him.

“I can count on you, anyhow, Lucifer,” she murmured, sucking her smoke alight. “Can’t I?”

She went to the window and stood looking out, smoking. The smoke tasted sour. She coughed, and coughed again.

Jan 1—1796. This day—my first on the light-house—I make this entry in my Diary. As regularly as I can keep the journal, I will—but there is no telling what may happen to a man all alone as I am—I may get sick, or worse… The cutter had a narrow escape—but why dwell on that, since I am here, all safe?

My spirits are beginning to revive already, at the mere thought of being—for once in my life at least—thoroughly alone; for, of course, Neptune, large as he is, is not to be taken into consideration as “society”.

What most surprises me, is the difficulty De Grät had in getting me the appointment—and I a noble of the realm! It could not be that the Consistory had any doubt of my ability to manage the light. The duty is a mere nothing; and the printed instructions are as plain as possible.

It never would have done to let Orndoff accompany me, with his intolerable gossip—not to mention that everlasting meerschaum. Besides, I wish to be alone… Now for a scramble to the lantern and a good look around to “see what I can see”…

To see what I can see indeed!—not very much. The swell is subsiding a little, I think—but the cutter will have a rough passage home, nevertheless. She will hardly get within sight of the Norland before noon to-morrow—and yet it can hardly be more than 190 or 200 miles.

Jan 2. I have passed this day in a species of ecstasy that I find impossible to describe. My passion for solitude could scarcely have been more thoroughly gratified. I do not say satisfied; for I believe I should never be satiated with such delight as I have experienced to-day… Nothing to be seen but ocean and sky, with an occasional gull.