Hearts and Masks

Next, turning from the window, I fell to examining my fellow

passengers, in the hope of seeing some one I knew. Conversation on

trains makes short journeys. . . . I sat up stiffly in my seat.

Diagonally across the aisle sat the very chap I had met in the

curio-shop! He was quietly reading a popular magazine, and

occasionally a smile lightened his sardonic mouth. Funny that I should

run across him twice in the same evening! Men who are contemplating

suicide never smile in that fashion. He was smoking a small,

well-colored meerschaum pipe with evident relish. Somehow, when a man

clenches his teeth upon the mouth-piece of a respectable pipe, it seems

impossible to associate that man with crime. But the fact that I had

seen him selecting a pistol in a pawnshop rather neutralized the good

opinion I was willing to form. I have already expressed my views upon

the subject. The sight of him rather worried me, though I could not

reason why. Whither was he bound? Had he finally taken one of

Friard's pistols? For a moment I was on the point of speaking to him,

if only to hear him tell more lies about the ten of hearts, but I

wisely put aside the temptation. Besides, it might be possible that he

would not be glad to see me. I always avoid the chance acquaintance,

unless, of course, the said chance acquaintance is met under favorable

circumstances--like the girl in Mouquin's, for instance! After all, it

was only an incident; and, but for his picking up that card, I never

should have remembered him.

Behind him sat a fellow with a countenance as red and round and

complacent as an English butler's,--red hair and small twinkling eyes.

Once he leaned over and spoke to my chance acquaintance, who, without

turning his head, thrust a match over his shoulder. The man with the

face of a butler lighted the most villainous pipe I ever beheld. I

wondered if they knew each other. But, closely as I watched, I saw no

sign from either. I turned my collar up and snuggled down. There was

no need of his seeing me.

Then my thoughts reverted to the ten of hearts again. My ten of

hearts! The wrinkle of a chill ran up and down my spine! My ten of

hearts!

Hastily I took out the card and examined the back of it. It was an

uncommonly handsome back, representing Diana, the moon, and the

midnight sky. A horrible supposition came to me: supposing they looked

at the back as well as at the face of the card? And again, supposing I

was miles away from the requisite color and design? I was staggered.

Here was a pretty fix! I had never even dreamed of such a contingency.

Hang it! I now wished I had stuck to my original plan, and gone to the

theater. Decidedly I was in for it; there was no backing down at this

late hour, unless I took the return train for Jersey City; and I

possessed too much stubbornness to surrender to any such weakness.

Either I should pass the door-committee, or I shouldn't; of one thing I

was certain-"Blankshire!" bawled the trainman; then the train slowed down and

finally came to a stop.