"There, there," said she laughing, and extending her hands across the table as if in a burst of confidence, "let us wave formalities; let us be friends."

Bristol took her proffered hands rather stiffly, but held them as long as was necessary, as they were pretty hands, warm hands, and hands that could grasp another's with a good show of honesty, too.

"There is no reason why we shouldn't," he said gallantly, as she poured out another gla.s.s of wine.

"Only one," answered Mrs. Winslow archly. "The three Graces don't like me, and they are bound we sha'n't meet. Now," she continued, again tapping the table nervously with her fan, and then raising her fine eyebrows and looking at Bristol half anxiously, half tenderly, and altogether meltingly, "_I_ feel as though we had been acquainted for years. Don't think me bold, Mr. Bristol, but I have had you in my thoughts much--possibly _too_ much," she added with the faintest trace of a blush; "but if I could feel that this--I was going to say attachment, though that would be quite improper, and I will say--unexplainable regard I have formed for you was in the least measure reciprocated----"

Bristol interrupted her with: "I think I can a.s.sure you that it is, at least, in a proper measure."

"Then," she continued, apparently radiant with happiness, "as I was about to say, I am sure it could be arranged so that we could be more in each other's society. You know who I am?" she abruptly and almost suspiciously asked.

Bristol was almost put off his guard by the sudden change of the subject, but parried the question with: "Certainly not; at least no more than through what I have been told at the restaurant."

Tears started in her well-trained eyes, but she impetuously brushed them away and followed the pretty piece of acting with: "Oh, Mr. Bristol! I fear we may never be to each other what we might have been if these three old hags--I mean old maids--had not poisoned your mind regarding me. Let me tell you," and she took hold of his collar and drew the reluctant detective towards her, "they are trying to get your money--your vast wealth. Let a comparatively unknown friend whisper in your ear, '_Beware!_'"

Bristol started, adjusted his gla.s.ses, grasped Mrs. Winslow's hand, and, as if very much frightened and extremely grateful, said heartily and with great fervor, "My dear madam, for this kindness I am yours to command!"

The woman evidently felt a.s.sured from that moment that she had made a conquest; but her varied experience and professional tact, as well as her native shrewdness, prevented her from expressing too great gayety over it, and she proceeded to inform Bristol how keen and shrewd the old ladies under Washington Hall were; how in confidence they had told her that they would compel him to marry one of them, and were going to draw cuts to determine which should carry off the prize; and when that was settled, if he did not marry the fortunate person willingly, their combined evidence would bring him down, or despoil him of a great portion of his wealth, which, she had no doubt, he had acquired by long years of honest toil.

Bristol expressed himself aghast at the depravity of women, and told Mrs. Winslow that it seemed to him that the nearer the grave they got the more terrible their greed and hideousness became.

Mrs. Winslow murmured that _she_ was not so very, _very_ old.

"Quite the contrary," said Bristol, gallantly, "and even when you become so, I am sure--very sure, that you will prove a marked exception."

An expression of pleasure flitted into her face, succeeded by one of evident pain--pleasure, probably, that she had made another dupe as she supposed; pain, that in one swift moment there had flashed into her mind some terrible picture of her cursed, lonely, homeless old age, when the whole world should scoff at her and thrust her from it, like the vile thing that she was and the hideous thing that she would surely become; both followed by the set features, where the cruel light came into her eyes and the swift shuttles of crimson and ashy paleness shot over her curled lips--the outward semblance of the inward tigress, that, though diverted for an instant by some little sunlight-flash of either tenderness or regret, never could be won from its irrevocably awful nature!

But it was all gone as soon as it had come, and she sat there, to all appearances a handsome woman, as modestly and carefully as possible encroaching upon the grounds of a first after-marriage flirtation, and in a few moments pleasantly said: "I have become so interested in you, Mr. Bristol, that I have found myself asking the question: Why is it that this gentleman is continually in my mind? until, do you know, I have such a curiosity about you that I shall be perfectly delighted to get better acquainted with you."

Bristol gracefully acknowledged the compliment by stating to her that he himself, since he had seen her, had had a strange feeling that he should know more about her, and the presentiment was still so strong upon him that he was now quite sure that he _should_.

"Ever since I saw you I have felt that we should become intimate,"

continued Mrs. Winslow radiantly.

"And I may myself confess that ever since I saw you, Mrs. Winslow, I really _knew_ that I should be obliged to search you out and remain near you."

Mrs. Winslow blushed and coyishly asked: "Mr. Bristol, do you believe in affinities?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"Do you believe in affinities, Mr. Bristol?"--_]

"Most a.s.suredly."

"So do I, and as we have sat here together, it has seemed to me that the good spirits were hovering over and around us, and had been, and were even now, whispering to us the sacredness of the affinity which surely must exist between us."

Mrs. Winslow said this in a kind of rhapsody of emotion, which betokened both an air of sincerity derived from frequent repet.i.tion and long practice, and a sort of superst.i.tious belief in what she herself said; and then poured out another gla.s.s of wine for each, while Bristol remarked as he drank, that of late years these spirits had been a great source of comfort to him, and that their free circulation was a good thing for society.

An hour or two was pleasantly beguiled in this manner, but Bristol hardly knew what course to pursue, and began to feel that in the absence of instructions he might become altogether too familiar with the charming woman who was making such an effort to please him. But he dare not cause her to become angry at him, for that would destroy his usefulness, and she seemed bound that he should admire her; so, as he had been directed by me to continue the _role_ of the "retired banker,"

he concluded it would be better to humor Mrs. Winslow in the belief that he was smitten by her, as she showed great anxiety that it should be so.

Accordingly, when she proposed that he should call at her apartments that evening, he acceded to the request with such a show of pleasure that Mrs. Winslow could not restrain her gratification, but rose and terminated the interview by slapping Bristol heartily on the shoulder and calling him a "dear old trump, anyhow!" And Fox, who was reading the morning paper over a gla.s.s of beer at a little table not more than ten feet distant, looked in blank astonishment at Bristol, as if fearing that the woman had really bewitched him; while little Le Compte, who stood at the entrance beyond, looked the very picture of abject jealousy as he saw his darling lavishing endearments upon a man old enough to be her father.

Mrs. Winslow pa.s.sed out of the Fields, and noticing Le Compte, who was retreating as rapidly as possible, beckoned to him, and when he had approached her near enough for her to speak to him, gave him a few quick, angry words that sent him at a rapid pace over the railroad bridge in the direction of his rooms; while she, after a parting smile at the beaming Bristol, who stood radiantly in the Fields' entrance, walked into St. Paul street, and from thence back and forth past the restaurant, where the three deserted old maids might witness her stride of triumph; while Bristol joined Fox at a retired spot under the shade of the trees overhanging the brink of the precipice rising from the gorge of the Genesee River, and explained the status of affairs which had all unconsciously to himself drawn him from his quiet work into an awful whirlpool of love and all that the term implied. Fox felt much relieved at this information, and at once proceeded home, while Bristol, with a guilty look in his face, returned to the little restaurant, where he found a dispatch from me stating that Mrs. Winslow intended going to Canada two days later, as I had been very positively informed by Le Compte, and directing him to in some manner keep her company and never let her make a move or meet a person without his knowledge.

Bristol hardly saw how he was to do this, but concluded that it might be best to wait until after his interview with his charmer in the evening, so that he could also forward the result of that with his regular report; and after expressing unbounded regret at being obliged to part from the three graces and a little card-party they had arranged, he proceeded to Mrs. Winslow's apartments, which had seemingly been specially arranged for his reception.

The mistress of the place was most elegantly attired, and greeted the "retired banker" with such grace and marked esteem, that Fox, at his lonely window opposite, almost felt jealous of the attention bestowed upon his comrade by their mutual quarry.

If ever a woman endeavored to make herself irresistibly winning, it was Mrs. Winslow on that night. She threw off all reserve at once, and was all smiles, pleasant words, and pretty ways. The rooms were most beautifully arranged, and where splendid flowers failed to furnish aroma, the delicate odors of art took their place. A very shrewd woman was Mrs. Winslow--a woman who was supreme in the art of providing _bijouterie_ to appeal to the sensuous in men's natures. In her conversation, which apparently was lady-like enough when guarded, there was always more suggested than said. The tone, the smile, the eye, the gesture, the touch--every movement, glance, or sound, betokened an unexpressed _something_ ready at any moment to be brought forward to crush down a weakening resolution, and sweep from existence so much of good or purity as might come into her baleful presence. She had rich game in Bristol, she thought. Why could she not work this with the Lyon case, bring to a successful termination a half-dozen other cases she was working up, secure a big pile of spoil at one time, and then with her little Le Compte glide away to _La Belle France_, where with his wit and her winning ways and wisdom, she might yet ama.s.s vast wealth in levying upon the personal and family pride of the thousands of rich numskulls who annually throng the gay capital.

And so to any man but a duty-doing detective that evening would have been a thrilling one. As it was, it was a hard one for Bristol, who knew that Fox's lynx eyes were upon him from across the street, who had to invent legend after legend regarding his life, his present and his imaginary future, and who was obliged under any circ.u.mstances not only to please the woman, but to preserve himself blameless--two things to ordinary men quite difficult to manage.

During the hour that Bristol remained with her she intimated to him the propriety of his securing another boarding-place, so that they might enjoy each other's society without the annoyance to which the old maids would subject them both should he remain there. He had wanted to make a change, Bristol said, but his long and varied experience had made him cautious, and he never gave up one good thing until he had secured a better. How would as pleasant a place as this do, Mrs. Winslow wanted to know? She had been thinking of renting the entire flat, she said, and then re-renting it to select parties, like Mr. Bristol, who were willing to pay a good price for a really luxurious place in which to live.

Bristol was apparently flattered by her regard for him, which had, of course, alone suggested the matter to her mind; but, being an elderly gentleman of conservative habits, he required time to think the matter over. In any event, it couldn't but be a pleasant theme for contemplation.

In fact, they got along famously together; so much so, indeed, that before Bristol had taken his departure, Mrs. Winslow had pressed him to accompany her on a trip of both business and pleasure to Toronto, and had so urgently presented the request that he had half consented to go, and was quite sure that he would be able to do so, unless some unexpected business transaction should detain him. In any case, he would be able to inform her by the next afternoon, he said, as he gallantly bade her good-night, and observed Le Compte scowling upon him from the dark end of the hall beyond.

Bristol hastened to the post-office and added the events of the evening to his daily report, which reached me the next afternoon, when I telegraphed to him to proceed with Mrs. Winslow, as her friend; but while pleasing her by feigning extreme regard, to be discreet, and not put himself too much in her power, nor to allow her to advance any of her other schemes by a sort of exhibition of him as her champion and protector.

Mrs. Winslow was made very happy by Bristol's acceptance of her invitation, and, at her suggestion, they took the train for Port Charlotte as strangers--Mrs. Winslow informing Bristol that the "old scoundrel," meaning Lyon, was having her watched, she believed, but she would outwit him at every point; but on arriving at the Port the loving couple got together quite naturally, and soon after were on board a steamer bound for Port Hope.

It was one of those dreamy, hazy days of early September, when the disappearing sh.o.r.e seemed to gradually take upon itself a tint of blue as deep as that of the sky above and as pure as that of the waters below, which on this day was almost as smooth as a mirror, only broken by long, far-reaching swells that seemed to have neither beginning nor end, but which here and there swept away in endless ribbons of liquid light, while the trailing wake of the steamer seemed in the pleasant sun like some marvellous and limitless lace-work flung across the water in wanton richness and profusion.

It was a lovely day for love, and to an unprejudiced observer Bristol and Mrs. Winslow improved it. At Charlotte the woman spoke of the matter in such a way that Bristol understood that she would not object to make the trip as his wife, but he innocently failed to catch the meaning of her covert invitation, and was only the attentive admirer during the entire trip. But in the cabin, or seated coyishly together under a huge sunshade upon the forward deck, they were as fine a couple as one would care to see, while the woman seemed unusually affectionate and agreeable.

Arriving at Port Hope after a few hours, the couple took the night train for the West, and arrived at Toronto at midnight, being driven to the Queen's Hotel. They had become so confidential and intimate by this time that Mrs. Winslow again suggested the propriety of travelling under more intimate relations than they had done, but was again carefully diverted from her purpose by the a.s.sumed innocence of the venerable detective, who saw that her real purpose was to secure evidence of having travelled as his wife, in order to have a future power over him, as she certainly believed him to be a man of great wealth.

She had told him that she had business that would prevent her seeing him during the next day, at which he expressed extreme regret, and they retired to their separate apartments for the night.

CHAPTER XVII.

Careful Work.-- Bristol's Trick on the Bell-boy at Queen's Hotel, Toronto.-- The old Merchant.-- In the Toils.-- A Face at the Transom.-- A cowardly Puppet before a brazen Adventuress.-- The Horrors of Blackmail.-- "Furnished Rooms to Rent."

As Mrs. Winslow had said, she was not to be seen the next morning; and Bristol, after breakfasting early, came to the conclusion that he should also be busied for the day following my instructions to watch her every movement.

He ascertained the number of her room and leisurely strolled through the hall until he located it, when he at once took a position where he could observe any movement in or out of the door. At about ten o'clock he noticed a waiter enter her room as if by summons, in a few minutes pa.s.s out smiling, and shortly afterwards return with a very large gla.s.s filled with some sort of liquor. Soon after he brought her breakfast, and about a half-hour later he saw that the dishes were being removed from the room, and, lying on one edge of the tray, an ordinary envelope, from its puffed condition evidently containing a note. He felt sure that this would give him the overture to the day's performance; but how to secure it was another thing entirely. He could not take the letter from the tray, as it rested on the front edge which projected over the boy's shoulder, and was consequently immediately before his eyes. He probably would not be able to bribe him into letting him have it, for the letter might require an answer, and he would fear getting into trouble. Bristol was standing at the end of the hall, by the window overlooking the street, while the waiter was approaching the stairs which descended to the lower floors near him. The boy had reached the second step going down, and it was Bristol's last opportunity.

"Stop!" he said excitedly to the boy. "Here, give me that tray," and he pulled it from the boy's shoulder and rested it upon the stair-rail.

"I'll take care of this. Run down to the street, now, quick, and get me a this morning's paper. There's a newsboy right in front of the house.

Here's a half-dollar; keep the change!"

The boy seemed startled at the action, but Bristol had been so impetuous about it; that he had relinquished the tray and started down stairs, but, recovering himself, came back and reached his hand up as if to take the letter.

"Tut, tut," said Bristol angrily, picking up the letter and carelessly putting it in his pocket without looking at the address, "I'll take care of everything until you get back; get along with you now!"

Bristol was noted for his benign and fatherly appearance, and, after another good look at him, the waiter took a brisk trot down stairs, leaving the detective in possession of the letter. He hastily put the tray upon the floor, and whisking the letter from his pocket, saw that it was addressed with a pencil, to "J. Devereaux, No. --, Yonge St.,"