While Miss Chandler sat there complacently waiting for some one to
conduct her back to the cell where she had passed the early morning
hours, or tell her that the carriage was waiting to take her to her
home, an officer in uniform entered, bearing a card. He gave it to her
with a ceremony that under other circumstances might have been amusing.
She took it with a loftiness of bearing extremely out of keeping with
her unfortunate position, and in the same manner that she might have
spoken the words to Leonard Chandler's servant, she said:
"Admit him!"
A moment later Lynde Pyne was shown in.
He came forward with extended hands and kissed her as was his wont.
"I don't know how to express my sympathy for you in a trial like this,"
he said gently. "It must be horrible!"
"A ghastly sort of mistake," she replied, with a little shuddering
laugh intended to be pretty. "I must apologize to you for the absurdity
of my dress. Fancy receiving one in the morning in a gown like this."
Pyne gazed at her in absolute amazement. Had she taken leave of her
senses that she could deliberately jest under circumstances like those?
"It is nothing!" he stammered. "If you were only out of this your gown
would be the last thing that I should think of. How did it happen?"
"I will tell you when we are at home. This room is comfortable enough
for ordinary purposes, but I don't like it."
"When--you are--at home?"
"Yes. My father has gone to arrange for my immediate return."
"You mean--Mr. Chandler?"
"Whom else should I mean? Mr. Chandler, to be sure."
"But--there must be some mistake."
"There is a mistake, of course. That goes without saying, when I am an
inmate of a prison."
"But--I--mean about Mr. Chandler. The charge against you was made by
him ten minutes ago, and signed with his name."
Evelyn Chandler arose slowly from her chair. Every particle of the
color had slowly left her cheeks, leaving her ghastly in pallor. She
gazed at Pyne as though convinced of his insanity.
"You must be mad," she exclaimed, slowly, the words falling from her
lips like lead. "He was here only a few minutes ago, and left me with a
promise that he would return at once. You cannot be correct."
"I met him leaving the house, and----"
Before he could finish his sentence she flew to the door and tore it
open. The captain met her there.
"Is it true that Leonard Chandler has entered a charge against me?"
she demand, her voice sounding like nothing human in its terrible
hoarseness.
"Quite true!" returned the captain, with perfect politeness.
"What charge?"
"Grand larceny."
The woman fell back against the casing of the doorway.
She made a curious picture standing there with that expression of
hideous agony upon her pallid features, her throat and shoulders bare,
her nude arms thrown upward.
There was not a man in the room who did not admire her in spite of the
serious charges made against her. Lynde Pyne came to her assistance,
and tenderly drew her back into the room, while he closed the door. She
raised herself in his arms after a moment of inactivity, like a fiend.
"Let me go there!" she cried, madly. "Let me tell them what he is! He
has betrayed me, and publicly in the courtroom I will tell the world
what he is. I will pay him for this if it takes my life."
"Calm yourself, dear!" exclaimed Lynde, gently. "There is nothing that
you can do against him. Come! You will be summoned to the courtroom
in a few minutes for preliminary examination. If you will allow me, I
will, of course, act for you; but you must tell me all the evidence
there is against you. You must keep nothing from me, for therein lies
your only chance. Will you do it, Evelyn?"
She shrunk from him for a moment as though in terror of even the
sympathy she read in his eyes; then she sprung forward like a cat
and caught him by the arm, lifting her glistening eyes with intense
excitement.
"I have your promise that you will marry me!" she cried. "This does not
release you. Tell me that is does not?"
His face quivered with the agony that it cost him to speak, but he
replied bravely:
"The misfortune of the opposite party never releases one from a
promise. I am ready to keep my word when the conditions of our contract
shall have expired."
"Then you will do it at once--at once! A will has been found that gives
everything your uncle possessed to you. The fortune that millions could
not cover is yours, and Leonie is cleared of any complicity in the
crime of which she was, in a way, accused. Are you ready to keep your
word now?"
"The proofs are not yet in my hands, and even if they were, the fortune
to which you refer is not mine. You forget that in the papers which
will be brought before the court there will be one showing that my
uncle left an heir who can lay a claim before which the strongest will
could not stand."
"You mean----"
"I mean the claim of Leonie Cuyler Pyne!"
"And you decline this fortune?"
"Emphatically I do!"
Her eyes glittered like those of a tigress.
"Then you intend to leave me to the fate that that cursed fiend,
Leonard Chandler, has prepared for me?" she cried hoarsely. "You intend
to allow me to be sent to the penitentiary, thinking that will cancel
your promise to me, and leave you free to marry the heiress. That is
it, is it?"
"You know that it is not!" exclaimed Lynde almost roughly. "I have no
more idea of marrying Miss Pyne than I have of marrying Juno. Don't
talk so foolishly. I am ready to do anything within the range of human
capability to help you."
"But you can do nothing without money--absolutely nothing. You must
take that money or you must see me sent to prison."
"Once for all--I will not do it. Now let that settle it forever. Are
there any points that you can give me to assist in your defense? I do
not ask you whether you are guilty or not. At least, I shall give the
benefit of the doubt----"
"No!" she cried shrilly. "You shall not do even that. The proofs are so
strong against me, that if my innocence is proven it must be bought.
Witnesses must be purchased. There is no other way. I am guilty! I am
guilty of all that and more, but if you don't wish the woman whom you
have sworn by a solemn oath to make your wife, an ex-convict when that
ceremony is performed, you must accept that money and save me. Leonie
knows the truth, Ben Mauprat knows it, that woman, Liz, knows, and the
letters that Ben had not the sense to destroy, are against me. How can
you prove all those things liars without money?"
"And is there not a single circumstance in your favor?"
"Not one. I have grown honest at last in that I can acknowledge it.
Lynde, Lynde, listen to me! I have borne it bravely, but I am not
brave. I am the greatest coward under God's heaven. Oh, listen to me
and save me! I cannot go there to that prison, and yet there is not
a point for my defense. He brought me up in luxury and idleness. I
knew nothing but wealth and plenty, so that when that horrible man
came, what was I to do? He told me that my father was a forger and my
mother a thief. He threatened to make those odious facts known unless I
furnished him with the money that he demanded. I knew Leonard Chandler
so well that I was convinced that to have him hear the story would be
but to have him turn eternally against me. He would not give me the
money that was required to buy my father's silence, and my father would
not remain quiet without. What was I to do? There was but one course
left. I learned the lesson that my parents taught. I was the offspring
of thieves, why should I be different from them? Now, Lynde, you know
the truth. I have tried my best to appear stony, but I am afraid. What
am I to do? Oh, my dear, if you leave me to my fate, I am lost indeed!
Lynde, promise that you will not! Swear to me that you will save me!
Swear it, Lynde, by----"
"Hush, dear!" he whispered, laying his hand across her mouth as she
kneeled there in front of him with her wild eyes raised appealingly.
"There is no need of an oath. You may be sure that I shall do for you
everything that lies in my power. I will turn heaven and earth to save
you!"
"And if you fail," she continued, her teeth chattering horribly, "what
then? When I am released from that place, when my life is shadowed by
the most awful curse that could befall a mortal, you swear that you
will take me away? That you will not forget the promise that you made
long ago?"
If she saw the anguish of his face, it was of small moment to her.
"A promise given is for all time, and under all conditions and
circumstances to me!" he answered, huskily. "Let us end this scene,
Evelyn. I came here to find out what I was to do to assist you, but it
seems that I must work in the dark. I may as well tell you frankly that
if this is all you have to say, there is little hope. Is----"
Before the sentence could be completed, the officer entered to announce
to them that the hour had arrived for her appearance before the judge.
With what calmness he could assume, Lynde lifted her to her feet.