XVII.

“Stern!”

“Yes, sir.”

“What time is it?”

“Past two, sir.”

“What news? I see bad tidings of some sort in that lugubrious face of

yours; out with it!”

“The little boy arrived at dawn, sir,” answered old Stern, with a

paternal air.

“What little boy?”

“Canaris, Jr., sir,” simpered the valet, venturing to be jocose.

“The deuce he did! Precipitate, like his father. Where is Felix?”

“With her, sir. In a state of mind, as well he may be, letting that

delicate young thing sit up to keep him company over his poetry stuff,”

muttered Stern, busying himself with the shutters.

“Sit up! when? where? what are you maundering about, man?” and Helwyze

himself sat up among the pillows, looking unusually wide-awake.

“Last night, sir, in the study. Mr. Felix made me go for a wink of

sleep, and when I came back, about one, there sat Mrs. Canaris as white

as her gown, and him looking as wild as a hawk. Something was amiss, I

could see plain enough, but it wasn’t my place to ask questions; so I

just made bold to suggest that it was late for her to be up, and he took

her away, looking dazed-like. That’s all I know, sir, till I found the

women in a great flustration this morning.”

“And I slept through it all?”

“Yes, sir; so soundly, I was a bit anxious till you waked. I found the

glass empty and the bottle smashed, and I was afraid you might have

taken too much of that _choral_ while half-asleep.”

“No fear; nothing kills me. Now get me up;” and Helwyze made his toilet

with a speed and energy which caused Stern to consider “_choral_” a

wonderful discovery.

A pretence of breakfast; then Helwyze sat down to wait for further

tidings,—externally quite calm, internally tormented by a great anxiety,

till Olivia came in, full of cheering news and sanguine expectations.

“Gladys is asleep, with baby on her arm, and Felix adoring in the

background. Poor boy! he cannot bear much, and is quite bowed down with

remorse for something he has done. Do you know what?”

As she spoke, Olivia stooped to pick up a book half-hidden by the fringe

of a low chair. It lay face downward, and, in smoothing the crumpled

leaves before closing it, she caught sight of a black and blotted name.

So did Helwyze; a look of intelligence flashed over his face, and,

taking the volume quickly, he answered, with his finger on the

title-page,—

“Yes, now I know, and so may you; for if one woman is in the secret, it

will soon be out. Felix wrote that, and it is true.”

“I thought so! One woman _has_ known it for a long time; nevertheless,

the secret was kept for your sake;” and Olivia’s dark face sparkled with

malicious merriment, as she saw the expression of mingled annoyance,

pride, and pleasure in his.

“My compliments and thanks: you are the eighth wonder of the world. But

what led you to suspect this little fraud of ours?”

“I did not, till the last book came; then I was struck here and there by

certain peculiar phrases, certain tender epithets, which I think no one

ever heard from your lips but me. These, in the hero’s mouth, made me

sure that you had helped Canaris, if not done the whole yourself, and

his odd manner at times confirmed my suspicion.”

“You have a good memory: I forgot that.”

“I have had so few such words from you that it is easy to remember

them,” murmured Olivia, reproachfully.

It seemed to touch him; for just then he felt deserted, well knowing

that he had lost both Felix and Gladys; but Olivia never would desert

him, no matter what discovery was made, or who might fall away. He

thanked her for her devotion, with the first ray of hope given for

years, as he said, in the tone so seldom heard,—

“You shall have more henceforth; for you are a staunch friend, and now I

have no other.”

“Dear Jasper, you shall never find me wanting. _I_ will be true to the

death!” she cried, blooming suddenly into her best and brightest beauty,

with the delight of this rare moment. Then, fearing to express too much,

she wisely turned again to Felix, asking curiously, “But why did you let

this young daw deck himself out in your plumes? It enrages me, to think

of his receiving the praise and honor due to you.”

A Modern Mephistopheles, and A Whisper in the Dark · 第 35 / 43 题