For this artistic creation had been Imogene's gift to him upon that fatal anniversary wedding. That she had bought this Bagdad on bargain day and that Bill thought she had made it herself did not alter the sentiment. True, she bought the Bagdad to please herself; and true, that he cared no more for the dizzy thing than he would for a door-mat; yet, all the same, she had given it to him, and the giving was what he cared for.
Was it to be expected that this would ever have been made the background of his rival's wiles and fascinations?
"This is too much, too much. Where am I at?"--and Bill Vanderhook clenched his fists and glared ferociously.
But, hist!--what is it these two are doing? What new conspiracy is hatching against the master of the house? Why do they sit so close, with heads bent in such juxtaposition? Why are they so silent, so absorbed?
"Aha! aha! a book!" It is a book they are poring over; a great leather book. A hand of each is under it. The other two are slowly turning leaves. Aha! they search for something. This is no ordinary book. They search,--and for what?
So intent are these two, this gay Gnani and his giddy Mate, that they have neither heard nor sensed the intrusion.
What he hears chills his blood,--congeals it. He hears the frozen pellets rattle through his veins.
"I don't believe it, my Llama," whispered Imogene.
"But it _must_ be, it _must_ be there my lady bird; for I happen to know something of the jurisprudence of Illinois."
Bill was struck by the expression of their faces. He had never before seen the astral man evince any sort of anxiety over anything. He never remembered seeing that look in Mrs. Vanderhook's face, except when she wanted something he couldn't buy.
But he could no longer restrain himself. The jealous husband sacrificed his curiosity to gratify his anger. With one bound he cleared the threshold and landed in the middle of the den, full under the light of the Turkish lantern.
"You measly monstrosity!"--he cried in a loud voice. "Get ye back!--get ye back to your musty old lair in Gingalee!"--and lifting his walking stick he brought it down upon the despoiler of his peace. "And this is how you occupy yourself in my absence!"--he bawled. "These are the uses to which you put my house and my furniture, and my books! Is it for this that I run a drug store and--for Mayor the rest of the time? What new infernal scheme are you hatching now?"--and Mr. Vanderhook pounded the air,--instead of Alonzo Leffingwell.