Chapter FOUR

When Joe Levanter left Mary’s home on the day of their final parting he felt a sense of vacuous misery overpowering him. All at once he became aware of the fact that he had no one to turn to, no one to care or live for. All his dreams, his youth, his past full of ardor and promise had been swept away from him, it seemed, by the single movement of a woman’s arm. What this arm had meant to him as a sustaining prop for his ambitions he realized only now, when a sort of dull, flat weakness filled his frame.

He entered his comfortably furnished apartment in one of the fashionable homes of the capital and threw himself on a sofa, burying his head in the cushion, as if wishing to escape the dark and crushing force of his depression.

For the first time in his life he faced existence without a set purpose, without energy, without zest. He was a brilliant aeronautical engineer, the inventor of many remarkable devices which revolutionized the construction of airplanes. He was a daring pilot. He was also engaged in conducting experiments with a new type of air vessel of his own invention which was considered of utmost importance by the United States government in whose employ he was. He was internationally known as one of the most original and successful builders of airships. His name was uttered with respect by scientists in every country, and the whole aeronautical world expected further and even more splendid achievements of him. He was genuinely loved and admired by his colleagues, while to those who were assigned to assist him in his laboratory work and field tests he was an ideal superior and companion at the same time. But all this work and glory, all this popularity, these personal and social triumphs brought him no consolation in this hour of anguish, so keen, so humiliating.

There was his fame of course. But of late it had become a source of embarrassment to him that was as unusual as it was unwarranted. For some time he had been the recipient of letters from unknown people residing in various parts of Europe and South America, who professed a great interest in the work he was doing. In a subtle but persistent manner these people hinted that with his genius and courage he could make his work the foundation of a material prosperity far greater than he could possibly achieve as a mere government employee. The letters came at regular intervals and bore the seals of apparently well situated and even noble personages. The last letter he received contained a request for a personal interview to discuss a matter, which the writer was certain would prove of interest to Levanter and might rebound to the advantage of all parties concerned. Levanter was informed that unless he definitely made known his unwillingness to see the party seeking an audience with him, the latter would call at his residence where it was hoped there would be laid the beginning of what was certain to prove an amicable as well as profitable association.

This, by some strange association, flashed in his mind as he lay a prey to disillusion and despondency. Helpless protest stirred somewhere between the intermittent gleams of conscious self-analysis. Defiance and hatred occasionally welled up within his breast. But the confusion and intensity of the reactions made Levanter feel only more dejected, and with listless resignation he abandoned himself to the tortures of his soul.

As he thus lay and grappled with the shadows of despair the door bell rang. Being alone in the house, he was forced to get up and open the door. A tall man, immaculately dressed, asked if Mr. Levanter was at home and whether he could be seen alone. When the latter introduced himself as the gentleman in question, the stranger was visibly affected and, making a low bow, said he was Monsieur de Ribaud of Marseilles who had asked for the interview. Levanter invited him in.

After a short pause the visitor said:

“I have come here on an important mission. I represent an international group of investors who are anxious to secure your cooperation and guidance in a very profitable undertaking.”

“What is it?” Levanter asked.

The visitor looked at Levanter intently for some time, then answered:

“It is something that will demand the greatest courage and grit. But we know you have that. Mr. Levanter, have you ever thought of the tremendous riches that is now being carried in airships across seas and continents and oceans? It is a booty worthy of the bravest.”

Levanter, astonished, made no reply.

“You are a genius, Mr. Levanter, and genius knows no law. Can you be satisfied with the paltry offering of the mediocre whom you yourself teach how to be rich and powerful, when you yourself have it in your power to command all...? Why should you live this life of small reward and duty, when you can make a whole world your own? You are the master of the air. There is no one to dispute your supremacy. Your knowledge and skill have built and operated marvelous machines for others, why not use your abilities for yourself? We propose to pay you your own price for the invention you are now working on. We offer you all the money you want for the construction of airplanes for our operations. And we invite you to become the head of our organization which has every chance of success on its side. Are these terms fair enough? I shall not press you for a decision right now. Whenever you are ready let me know at the following address (offering his card) and we shall have no trouble arranging the details.... Meanwhile we must part. Good bye, Mr. Levanter. We hope to hear from you.”

Monsieur de Ribaud rose and left. Levanter remained sitting in the same position, dazed by the offer and its prospects.

He sat thus all evening and through a long and dreary night. He thought of his eventful past and of his contemplated future. He thought of the woman whose lovely face seemed to link the two, only to mock and torment him and to deprive him of both. He thought of fleeing and secluding himself somewhere. He thought of death, of revenge, of tremendous hazards and overwhelming sacrifices. He thought of all those things that seeth and boil in the heart of a rejected lover.

Then out of the black denseness of his thoughts there floated up the dim but piercing flicker of the offer he had been made. To his desolate soul it shone like a dull-red, turbid smudge of light and hope.... It warmed and caressed and beckoned. It promised peace, revenge, forgetfulness and fortune....

It made that answer for Levanter for which de Ribaud so very tactfully had refused to press.