AT THE SAVOY.

Evening Star, Issue 11675, 6 February 1902, Page 8

AT THE SAVOY.

[All Rights Reserved.]

By rTnuw Matttkrp. Author of ' Comin' Thro' the Rye,' etc.

The tables were so close together that you could hardly puss 1 through, and there was that brisk hum of conversation which points always to a specially cheery Savoy night. Probably the pick of the earth is beauty, position, wealth, and wickedness crowd closer together at tho Savoy for dinner an tho Sunday immediately preceding Ascot \han at any other period of tho year, and o tho man familiar not only with every well-known face in town, but also with those that will be notorious to-morrow, there ia an endless field of observation open ns ho sits at one of the coveted tables near the door, watching the endless procession of diners come and go. For this low-pitcheil, heavily ornamented room, crammed to is a reality, a microcosm that represents the whole world of those men and women who eot, drink, and are merry, quite determined that on the morrow they will not die. And if those walls could be m;ule transparent, and a million or so out of the starving hordes of the town press closely roimd them, might there not be a brief revolution, because the derelicts couM not look beneath, and see the satiety, tho weariness, and despair tbnt often" lay hidden in the breasts of the feasters?" Only one of the initiated could read the thousand tragedies, the comedies, passing around, mark tho silent death of an absorbing passion, the birth of an intrigue, the chances of adventure, that, tossed from eye to eye even as a juggler plays with his knives, will change the life of that man or this woman, but to the one' who dobs know, the show is an exciting one, and he goes to his Savoy less to enjoy the art of the great Joseph than to study the book of human nature as there unrolled prodigally before his eyes. Tom Greenslades, at the tabic immediately to the right of the entrance, acting the part of host to half a dozen of young ami frivolous persons, mostly of one age and mind, and therefore perfectly well suited to each other, had purposely left himself the odd man out, and thus isolated watched with half-closed eyes the fast slackening stream, but he opened them suddenly when two men came in and sat down with a woman at the table next, his own, a woman who, on entering, had tossed her head up high with a superbly insolent gesture—the gesture that you never see used by a good woman, only by one whoso beauty lias enabled her to set her foot on the neck of ali manhood —and despise it. Tom smiled a little as he helped himself to an olive, and a sudden hush fell over his iuble, tor all were looking at La Gliane, the woman with the half-envy which often puzzles men, as probably not one of the i nvious would change places with the envied—it may only he her jewels that they covet. There is a type of beauty that for vrant of a better name is called orchidaceous, tuid when analysed appears to consist of an extraordinary frailness of physique, an unearthly pallor of skin, a tiny face with enormous tirtrk eyes set in a cloud of black hair, and when you havo draped this elusive personality in exquisite, diaphanous robes, wid covered hor with priceless jewels of a barbaric character, when, moreover, she carries herself with the. inborn conviction that v cocotte is the finest sight under heaven, r»u get the person for whom men kill one -.nother, and good women, who are aLso Kiautiful, lind themselves thrown aside rightly as a cast-off glove. One of the men with her had married the girt Turn Greenslades loved, and she had done an incredible thing in the smart world—kept her husband as a lover for iive who.c years. Now the orchidaceous one hod km in her toils, and the wife knew it, and after the scornful manner of her kind ignored the fact, though handicapped by that unfashionable and most useless thing, a heart. And Tom had seen the thing k<> often, and with a woman of spirit it nearly always ended one way. Thcie is only one weapon with which a woman may smite a faithless husband; its edge is keen, it almost always enters the joints of his armor, and even if it do not slay, it wounds what he is pleased to call Lis honor; if the outside world sees, may even nuike him look ridiculous; but it is also a two-edged sword, wounding the baud that uses it, and she who is wise throws it far from her. Would Elsa follow the traditions ot her class, or behave as a mere vni<!:;!e class woman, and keep the home i, tu r, however far the master of it wanuei •„•;!.

Tom Green a ies knew that hitherto she had not <iei a e.( to pick that weapon up, and yet. it lay u-dy to her baud, and that very moment a man who adored her was sitting beside her at a great house in Piccadilly, to which her husband had aJso been bidden- -an engagement he had cancelled in order to ait beside La Gliaue at the iSavoy to-night. He looked very cool and indifferent as he sat facing the woman, doing most of the talking, as orchidaceous people don't talk; they have their ot»n language, understanded of men, and they eat, and more especially drink, and they annex money and jewels, which they gracefully describe as "homage," but conversation they leave contemptuously to the unfortunates uudesired of man.

But if insolently silent, there were signs of restlessness iu La Gliane to-night that both her companions, each quietly and resolutely bent on cutting out the other, were quick to observe, and Tom (ireens'.ades kid something to do with them—good, ugly old Tom, whom all women trusted, and no rare example of her sex loved, which was rough on him, as only the very best could ever satisfy his fastidious taste.

Above Boldi's music, and the incessant noise going on around, he coidd hear every word that passed at the adjoining table, for his hearing was keen, and had a way of detaching itself from the susurrus of sound immediately about him to concentrate on some given point, and presently he heard Feversham say; "You know Greenslades?" But she muttered that she did not, and devoutly hoped that she never would.

"Anyone can dress a hop-pole," said an aggrieved young woman in Tom's ear; "and if your emeralds are as big as pigeons' eggs, and you have plenty of them, and the worst reputation in the whole world, you are the rage. If there were even a suspicion of flesh about this enchantress, I suppose her charm would be gone." she went on, thoughtfully; "but a man never tires of running after what he can't catch."

" No," said Tom, and laughed. "There's a proverb that, no man runs bare-footed except after a stag, or away from one— I'm afraid we are an awfully bad lot all round."

"And we women can't run as fast as stags," said bis companion, significantly. "But isn't it—a bit thick?" she added, glancing at the adjoining table. "Elsa told me they rvesrc dining with the Devons to-night, but that she would much rather be here with you and the rest of us. Fancy, if she had excused herself there and come—here !**

"Awfully hot. ain't it?" said Tom "Have an olive V

"Elsa is a fool," went on Mrs Townlev, in a low voice: " a woman should give a man a lot of trouble, and keep him well on the ran looking after her—he has no time then for running after other women. When a husband knows he will always find his wife where he left her, he hardly ever takes the tronble to go and see if she is still there! _ &ow, I'never let Billy feel safe for a single moment, and though, of course, he grumbles, and is a perfect bear sometimes, it's much better than for him always to be on the grin—as he is when the woman outside is making him happy." "Don't talk to Elsa like that," burst out Tom; "if she is only to be happy at the expense of being like the rest of yon, .-he'll do better to be miserable." Bell Townlev stared.

"Do you know, you arc very rudef she said: " but, after all, I ami wise in my generation. Elsa is not. It annoys me, though, to see her cut out by an indecency like that—why can't Humphrey stick to his own class? He can't really ndnrre her—it's only that he is determined to cut out George Bourke—there's an old

feud between the two men, and each is always trying to score over the other." "I don't think " said Tom slowly, then changed his mind about what he had meant to say, and shrugged his shoulders instead.

"I'm starving," he said, "aren't you? I hate my food in snippets. Let us prevail on Joseph to give us something to eat," and he sent a waiter with a message to that great personage, who came immediately, for Tom was a favorite of his. "You are famishedf he said, with the delightful bow and smile to the others, the glance for Tom himself, that revealed the magnetic personality of the man, and then he gave his serious consideration to the matter in hand, and suggested a steak in as sympathetic a way as an artist of the brush would point out to a fellow artist a magnificent subject for a picture. Many people looked up at the little man with the charming, sensitive face as he stood by Tom's chair, many eyes followed him as he moved away to a mysterious coffer on which certain curiously-shaped silver vessels rested, and in a moment his hands were quietly movirg to and fro amongst them, the arti<tt s]>enking in every assured gesture. In a trice an army of subordinates had sprung up to do his bidding, and those who were Dearest had an opportunity of seeing how a great chef who counts his income by thousands cooks a humble " brftek."

When he had cut into pieces and peppered and salted a tender steak, he shut it up in a paeoda-like vessel, and apparently washed his hands of it. while be busied himself with another matter, nnd those who watched were puzzled, for what man likes his steak served to him in dice? They stared and wondered what would come next. But presently Joseph turned a handle, and out of a small spout there came a rich flow of blood—all the essence of the crushed flesh that he had hidden, and this he poured oTer a juicy steak that he had now miraculously produced from some other silver vessel, and, lo! the deed was done.

Re ■ brought it himself to Tom Greenslades, and with pleasure watched him enjoy a portion of it; then to tho frivolovs yonng people who would none of his meat he promised a fruit salad (as the strawberries were all done), and made it of bananas, and pineapple, and maraschino, r*nd many other things mixed after a fashion known onlv to himself, and he lingered, chatting with Tom. while it was eaten.

"M. Joseph," said Tom presently, and his voice was singularly lonrl for so wellbred a man. "were von in Paris when Mile. (Thuuffron was nearly torn to pieces by the mob, after lwing acquitted of the murder of her father?"

A wine glass fell smashing at the next table, and Tom looked across and met a pair of eyes out of which, for tho moment, fear had driven the devil. " But. yes. Mr Greenslades, T remember. It. was a eowardb- crime, but she was beautiful, and escaped justice, but not the mob. She must have the marks" —hz touched his throat liehtly—" still. Yes, T happened A o be useful on that occasion. She would know me again, I think." Someone whispered to Joseph he was wanted elsewhere, and leaving a blank behind him, and a delightful impression, he vanished. Tom leaned forward and looked at the deep, seven-stringed colhr of diamonds, that no one with a throat less long and slendc - than La Gli.t-e could have worn, and Feversham. startled at the fury with which she panted, at the IJcrhtnmp; that biased from her eyes, touched her arm, and said in a low voice : "What is the mat to?"

" Who is that man ?" she cried in French. Twin tin ;r at Tom. "He in«u!fs me by his looks—throw him out "—her breath came in crusts, and her nostrils flickered like a flame in the wind.

"That is niv friend CfreenjOadcs." said Hnmphrev. His voice was cold; he did not admire temper in women. It had been the icv indifference of La Oli.me that had her greatest .itrraction for him; l:e had heart enongh and to spare at home. There cn-me a sudden interruption ds Boldi, in his picturesque dress of scarlet laced with gold, left his place with the. nrher*!. and approaehir>c rhe table at which La Oliane sat drew his bow across his violin, and with his eves fixed on hers plaved his very best for her. and her alone. La. 01 in no's spirits rose at this open tribnte to her charms, she smiled, and her eyes spoke fco Bnlli in the oldest language in the world. The two men looked on envious and impassive, and Tom GreCnilndm wondered how he should manage to shake off tho young frivollm that surrounded him, for he had a word to got in with Feversham before La Oliane left that night. For to-nisrht was the turning point of the drama, to-night would decide if Hnmphrey carried her off from the other man present, and returned to FJsa, or made, permanent a fofly that would be proclaimed on the housetops next morning, and to which he would stand committed before the whole world.

For the Savoy is a. public place at which to conduct an escapade; it had been sheer devilry on La o]iane*s pirt bringing him there, and also there was the brute jealomry that exists between man and man where an infamous woman is concerned, and George Bonrke and Humphrey Feversham had never pot even oyer an old affair that rankled like a fester in Humphrey's pride. " Boldi is- not doing himself justice tonight." said a girl's petulant voice in Tom's ear. "or else we have pot used to Hungarian henrt-scrapera. and shivers of cold water down our suines!"

"He was never better." said Tom, aKscnfly, as he looked after the retreating musician, whose back expressed dissatisfaction ; ho was sharp eunuch to know that in La Gliane he had formed' his princess. "Tt is you that are blase—like most girls nowadays," he addrd, with a smile tnafc rotted his words of their sting. He was watching the gradual extinguishing of the lights; already the room was half in darkness, and. like chidden children, the feastets were reluctantly preparing to depart ... he glanced across at Gliane. whore wicked face was for the moment steadied by thought . . . within the next few seconds she would rise, she would look from one resolute, waiting man to the other, she would choose—Elsa's whole fate hung on that deciflion, and Tom set his teeth hard as. he waited—but why wait? A strong man does or dies, he needs not to wait on other wills ... he snatched the bill he had just paid from the table, tore off a portion, and on tie other side of it wroto a few words in big letters, then stood up as La Gliane rose and extended her arms for the cloud of chiffon frills that she called a rloak. and which a waiter hastened to fold about her.

Humphrey held her gloves, Bottrke her fan, hut before she could hold out her band for either Tom Greenslades. bowing with tho utmost deference, was holding before her eyes a scrap of paper upon which her eyes fell involuntarily, fell and stared, and stared idiotically; then like a beast of prey she snatched it from him, took Bourke's prm; with a furious gesture, and without a glance at Feversham hurried away. " Curse you ! " cried Feversham under his breath, savagely, but Tom had disappeared, and m the murmuring crowd that jostled out in the darkness was neither to be seen nor overtaken.

Outwardly controlled, and exchanging many salutations in the lobbies and on the staircase, but inwardly boiling with passion. Feversham struck off towards the Embankment, meaning to return on foot to Carlton House Terrace. When he head\ steps behind him he did not turn, and presently Tom's burly form forged .alongside, and Feversham swore deep!v.

'"Fine night," *aid Tom. pleasantly, and Feversham faced round, and his eyes blazed.

" What did you write to La Gliane?" be said.

" That is not her own name, you know," said Tom, lighting a cigarette, " and somehow it seemed to upset her a bit calling her by the right one—the one I knew her by, when I happened to do her a slight service."

" She' has a right to call herself by what name sho pleases," cried Feversham, shaking with rage; the woman was nothing, but Bourke had scored again, and his own defeat was bitter as? gall on his tongue. "The Paris police call her Marie Chauffron," said Tom, quite unmoved, and soberly happy—Elaa, this time at least, waa saved. " (Sfoauffron," repeated Feversham- wilk

knitted brows, trying in the midst of his turmoil to recall something that escaped him, "what has it to do with yon, meddler, if she has as many names as there are days in the year?" " Nothing," said Tom qnietly. , " But when I see an old friend breaking np his home, and ruining his happiness for the sake of a parricide, I—choose to interfere." Fewrsham's groping brain had found what it wanted at last, and what it found subdued him.

"I remember," be said, standing still. "It w«s atrocious—the poor old man who loved her—the robbery of his money—her appeal to the jury, and shameless acquittal in the face of facts—and that is La Gliane:" " She may take it into her heed to murder Bourke," said Tom cheerfully. " Once you get your eye in for that sort of thing it is difficult to stop. I was in Paris at the time, and rescued her when the mob reversed the decision of the jury; and though I've heard of her very often lately—never saw her till to-night the circumstance printed me clear on her mind." " Eka has complained to you r" said Feversbam. and his voice was hard. Only a fellow-man could understand how completely, since he had last spoken, he had put ]a Gliane cut of his life, and reconstructed it.

" Elsa? The right sort of woman never speaks. She may break her heart—but she do?sn't complain. If she doesn't break her heart "he paused, they had come to the top of the steps leading to Carlton House Terrace, and a carriage was coming slowly towards them from the opposite direction, so slowly that it was either empty or those within it were lovers, and trying forlornly to prolong the hour before they must descend. The two men moved forward to meet it, some instinct keeping each silent, and when they came abreast the electric light in tho centre of the white-lined, cosy interior revealed a lovely woman shrinking a little way from a strikingly distinguished man, whose attitude of passionate pleading revealed him as an ardent wooer.

" Eltti.!" ejaculated Feversbam, and sprang forward, but Tom, who had muscles of steel, handled him as if be had been an infant, and said roughly: "What right have you to object? The whole world saw you dine with La Gliane to-night, believes you have gone home with her. There is a limit to every woman's forbearance —and you have passed it with Elsa."

Fcversham was silent. They passed his door, then turned to meet, the carriage that had also turned, and was now slowly approaching them. " The coachman and footman—the hour," he muttered, " she might have more taste." " You showed yours signally to-night," said Torn, "at tho Savoy." 'They watched the lights approaching, and on his own doorstep Feversham stopped at the moment the carriage drew up, and Eb-a's companion, all unwillingly, sprang out almost into the two men's arms. He stammered, raised his hat, and turned to hand out Elsa, beautiful and white as moonlight, her eyes burning like stars, a woman for whom angels and devils had been fighting during the past hour, for already it had come to her ears who had been dining with Humphrey that night. Ho came forward, and their eyes met Her face changed, lightened; with an exquisite gesture of forgiveness, of surrender, she put out her hand to him, and as the door opened behind them he led her in, and the two men were left lacing each other in the street.

"Good night," said Tom. "Have a weed? Thought it looked like rain—but it has blown over."