The Clue of the Twisted Candles | Page 4

once - a taciturn devil. Very short of speech and, like all men
who have seen and done things, less inclined to talk about himself than
any man I know."
Kara looked at the book with a thoughtful pucker of brow and turned
the leaves idly.
"I've never seen him," he said as he replaced the book, "yet, in a sense,
his new journey is on my behalf."
The other man looked up.
"On your behalf?"
"Yes - you know he has gone to Patagonia for me. He believes there is
gold there - you will learn as much from his book on the mountain
systems of South America. I was interested in his theories and

corresponded with him. As a result of that correspondence he
undertook to make a geological survey for me. I sent him money for his
expenses, and he went off."
"You never saw him?" asked John Lexman, surprised.
Kara shook his head.
"That was not - ?" began his host.
"Not like me, you were going to say. Frankly, it was not, but then I
realized that he was an unusual kind of man. I invited him to dine with
me before he left London, and in reply received a wire from
Southampton intimating that he was already on his way."
Lexman nodded.
"It must be an awfully interesting kind of life," he said. "I suppose he
will be away for quite a long time?"
"Three years," said Kara, continuing his examination of the bookshelf.
"I envy those fellows who run round the world writing books," said
John, puffing reflectively at his pipe. "They have all the best of it."
Kara turned. He stood immediately behind the author and the other
could not see his face. There was, however, in his voice an unusual
earnestness and an unusual quiet vehemence.
"What have you to complain about!" he asked, with that little drawl of
his. "You have your own creative work - the most fascinating branch of
labour that comes to a man. He, poor beggar, is bound to actualities.
You have the full range of all the worlds which your imagination gives
to you. You can create men and destroy them, call into existence
fascinating problems, mystify and baffle ten or twenty thousand people,
and then, at a word, elucidate your mystery."
John laughed.

"There is something in that," he said.
"As for the rest of your life," Kara went on in a lower voice, "I think
you have that which makes life worth living - an incomparable wife."
Lexman swung round in his chair, and met the other's gaze, and there
was something in the set of the other's handsome face which took his
breath away.
"I do not see - " he began.
Kara smiled.
"That was an impertinence, wasn't it!" he said, banteringly. "But then
you mustn't forget, my dear man, that I was very anxious to marry your
wife. I don't suppose it is secret. And when I lost her, I had ideas about
you which are not pleasant to recall."
He had recovered his self-possession and had continued his aimless
stroll about the room.
"You must remember I am a Greek, and the modern Greek is no
philosopher. You must remember, too, that I am a petted child of
fortune, and have had everything I wanted since I was a baby."
"You are a fortunate devil," said the other, turning back to his desk, and
taking up his pen.
For a moment Kara did not speak, then he made as though he would
say something, checked himself, and laughed.
"I wonder if I am," he said.
And now he spoke with a sudden energy.
"What is this trouble you are having with Vassalaro?"
John rose from his chair and walked over to the fire, stood gazing down
into its depths, his legs wide apart, his hands clasped behind him, and

Kara took his attitude to supply an answer to the question.
"I warned you against Vassalaro," he said, stooping by the other's side
to light his cigar with a spill of paper. "My dear Lexman, my fellow
countrymen are unpleasant people to deal with in certain moods."
"He was so obliging at first," said Lexman, half to himself.
"And now he is so disobliging," drawled Kara. "That is a way which
moneylenders have, my dear man; you were very foolish to go to him
at all. I could have lent you the money."
"There were reasons why I should not borrow money from you,", said
John, quietly, "and I think you yourself have supplied the principal
reason when you told me just now, what I already knew, that you
wanted to marry Grace."
"How much is the amount?" asked Kara, examining his well-manicured
finger-nails.
"Two thousand five hundred pounds," replied John, with a