GENTILISKA DUBARRY.
"And Iska,
And Iska,
And Iska's a lady."
The girl went to a little trunk, unlocked it, and brought out the small
silver casket. She touched a spring and the top flew open revealing a
packet of papers, from which she selected one brown with age, and worn
almost into squares by folding. She laid it before Sybil, who carefully
unfolded it, and scrutinized it.
"There, you see!" said the lady at length, speaking in triumph. "There
is the name of Philip Dubarry, as plain as a proctor's clerk could write
it. Not Dewberry, mind you, but Dubarry. See for yourself."
"So it is!" exclaimed the girl in amazement. "Now do you know I never
examined it so closely as to see the difference in the spelling of the
name before? We were always called Dewberry; and Dewberry I thought we
were."
"No; you were and are Dubarry, and in all human probability the sole
heiress of this great manor."
"Stop a bit; oh, my eye! I mean, oh, my nose!"
"What's the matter?"
"I smell a mice!"
"What do you mean?"
"Satan knows I am a princess in disguise, and that's the very reason why
he wants to marry me."
"Please be clear, if you can't be brilliant."
"Why, I'm as clear as mud. Satan has found out that I am the rightful
heiress of the Dubarry manor, and he wishes to make me his wife in order
to become master of the estate," the girl explained.
Sybil raised her eyes in surprise, then dropped them again upon the
license, and repeated:
"So Satan wishes to wed you."
"You bet. And I never could imagine why a gentleman of his cultivated
tastes should want me for a wife."
"Did he ever happen to see that marriage license?"
"Oh, yes, he has seen it and studied it. He told me it was an important
document, and advised me to take good care of it."
"Then that is probably the way in which he discovered your right to the
Dubarry estate."
"To be sure it was; for from the time he first saw that paper, he began
to treat me with more respect and attention. And I do believe that was
also the reason why he came down to this place."
While the girl spoke, Sybil was thinking hard and fast. Was the
gentleman brigand the husband of Rosa Blondelle? Had he deliberately
murdered his wife that he might marry this young gipsy heiress of the
great Dubarry manor? But the girl would not let the lady reflect in
peace for many minutes. She suddenly broke out with--
"I can't credit it. Not even in the face of the facts. What, a poor
little beggarly wretch of a half-breed gipsy like me, the sole heiress
of an old aristocratic manor? Stuff and nonsense! Even if I have a right
to it, I shall never get it."
"Oh, yes, you will," said Sybil, confidently. "I never heard of a
clearer case than yours, as you have stated it. You have only to prove
three marriages, three births, and one identity. And as marriages and
births are always registered in your country, there will be no
difficulty in that."
"_Our_ marriages and births were always registered for the same reason
that this license was kept, that some of us might come into the family
fortune sometime and be made a lady or a gentleman of. And it begins to
look like I was going to be the lady."
"Well, but don't spoil your fortune by marrying Satan," said Sybil.
"Marry Satan? I'd see him in Pandemonium first!" exclaimed the little
student of Milton.
"I'm glad to hear you say so! Keep to that, and get out of this den of
thieves as soon as ever you can," added Sybil.
"Now, may Satan fly away with me if ever I desert my friends. They
risked their necks to rescue me from want in Dover, and have provided
for me like a princess. If _that's_ the way you good people requite
kindness, I think I'll stick to my poor scamps. At least, I will never
leave them, until I can give them each and all money enough to retire
upon honestly."
"But you will have to leave them, before you can do that. You will have
to live among law-abiding people, before you can get a lawyer to take up
such a case as yours. I think, if ever I am free again, I would like to
have you home with me; and I am sure my dear husband would take up your
cause, as he has taken up that of many a poor client, without money, and
without price."
Here the girl burst into such peals of laughter, that Sybil could but
gaze on her in astonishment.
"Oh, you know, that is too good!" exclaimed Iska, as soon as she
recovered from her mirthful paroxysm.
"What is too good?" inquired Sybil, slightly displeased.
"Oh, that you should invite me to your house, and recommend me to your
husband's good offices! One would think that you had had enough of
taking up stray women and flinging them at your husband's head!"
exclaimed the girl, with another paroxysm of laughter.
Sybil turned pale, and remained silent for a few moments; then she said
very gravely:
"Your gay rebuke may be a just one. I will think twice before I repeat
the folly."
"And now I have lost a friend by my jest. I am always losing friends by
jests," said Gentiliska, sadly.
"No, indeed you have not, poor child," exclaimed our magnanimous Sybil.
"I might think once, or twice, but I should never think long without
offering you a home in my heart and in my house. You are no saint, poor
girl; but that you are an honest woman, with your antecedents and your
surroundings, is as much to your credit, I think, as sanctity is to the
most holy."
And the lady arose and kissed the little gipsy.
"That was good," sighed Gentiliska; "that is the first time I have ever
been kissed since my poor mother died."
They were interrupted by the apparition of Proserpine, who glided into
the inner cavern.
"What do you want?" demanded Gentiliska.
"Nothing. Breakfast has been ready this half-hour. We thought you were
asleep, so we waited. But just now I heard you laughing. So I came in to
tell you everything would be spoiled, if you didn't made haste and get
ready."
"All right; we are ready. Put breakfast on the table directly," said
Gentiliska.
The girl disappeared, and the two temporary companions, Sybil and
Gentiliska, soon followed.
They found a comfortable breakfast laid out in the kitchen, and, as on
the preceding morning, Sybil did justice to the delicacies set before
her.
"Where are your companions?" she inquired of Gentiliska, not seeing any
sign of the robbers' presence.
"I don't know. Where are the men, Hecate?" inquired the hostess, turning
to the crone.
"Bless you, Missis, as soon as they got through with their supper, which
they kept up until midnight, they one and all put on their gowns and
masks, and started out on business."
"Business! Yes, that means stopping a stage-coach, or breaking into a
house!" sneered the girl. "And they have not got back yet?" she
inquired.
"Bless you, Missis, no! I sorter, kinder, think as they've gone a good
distance this time."
Sybil said nothing; but she felt relieved, and grateful to be rid of
those terrible men, even for a few hours.
When breakfast was over, Gentiliska said to Sybil:
"You must not suppose that I live entirely under ground, like a mole!
No, indeed; every day when it is fine, I go to the surface. I get out on
the roof. I walk on the mountain heights, 'where never foot fell,'
except my own! I went out yesterday, and would have taken you; but that
you were so dead asleep. Will you climb with me to-day?"
"With great pleasure," said Sybil.
"And while we go, we will take little baskets and some luncheon, and we
will gather some nuts--there are so many on the mountain--walnuts,
chestnuts, hickory-nuts, hazle-nuts, and chinkapins," added the young
hostess, as they walked back to the sleeping cavern, where they began to
prepare for their ramble.
"There, take that, and wrap yourself up warm. I wish it was nicer, but I
haven't a choice of garments here, you know."
Sybil picked up the articles thrown her by her hostess, and saw, to her
astonishment, that it was a priceless India shawl, belonging to her
friend Miss Pendleton.
"This! this!" she exclaimed, indignantly; "do you know what this is?"
"It is an old shawl," replied the girl, contemptuously.
"Yes, it is an 'old shawl,' a rare old camel's hair shawl, worth
thousands upon thousands of dollars, an heir loom of the Pendleton
family, that has descended from generation to generation, until now it
is the property of Miss Beatrix Pendleton. Oh, I am so sorry she has
lost it."
"What, that old thing? I'm blessed if I didn't think it was a most
uncommon coarse, thick, heavy old broche."
"It is a priceless India camel's hair shawl! Such a one as could not be
bought in this century at any price. Oh. I wish she had it back!"
"Lor' bless you! she may have it back if she wants it! Why do you think
they took it? For its value? They knew no more of its value than I did!
No! they took it for its uses! They took it to tie up some of the silver
plate in, because they hadn't sacks enough. You take it, and keep it!
And when you have a chance, give it back to your friend. But for to-day,
you had better give it an airing on your shoulders."
So exhorted, Sybil wrapped herself in the costly shawl, and followed her
hostess through many labyrinths of the caverns, until they came out on a
lonely height apparently yet untrodden by the foot of man.
It was a clear, bright December day. The morning, if sharp and cold, was
fresh and invigorating.
They spent the middle of the day in rambling through the loneliest parts
of the mountain fastnesses, and gathering treasure of many sorts of the
sweetest nuts. The sun was sinking in the west when they turned their
steps towards the caverns.
"The men will be sure to be home to supper. They never fail supper! And
now we will be able to give them walnuts with their wine!" said
Gentiliska, as they reentered the labyrinth that led them from the
mountain top to the caverns underneath.
Sybil's heart shrunk within her. To the delicate and conscientious,
there is always an exquisite torture in the immediate contact of the
coarse and reckless.
They reached the large cavern to find its walls brilliantly lighted up,
and the supper table laid and well laden, as on the preceding evening.
"We will go to the sleeping cavern, and lay off our bonnets and shawls.
Then we will be ready for supper. Fortunately we don't have to dress for
the evening at our house!" laughed the girl, leading the way to the
little cave.
When they had thrown off their wraps, they returned to the larger cavern
to find it half full of the men. Supper was already on the table; and
Satan, who was now in full evening dress, came forward and bowed to
Sybil, and with much empressment led her to the place of honor at the
board, and seated himself beside her.
Moloch took a stool immediately opposite the pair, where he could gaze
at will upon the new beauty.
When all were seated the feast began. Satan gave his whole attention to
Sybil, whom he treated with tender deference.
As the supper progressed and the wine passed around, the men, under the
exhilarating influence, grew merry and talkative.
"Hope the beaks'll have a good time up at the old Haunted Chapel to-day!
This is the second day they've been there looking for us! And oh! didn't
they think they'd struck a rich lead when they found that swell Berners
up there! They thought they had got his wife too, for certain! That's
what's brought them back to-day! they know they can't find us there; but
they hope to find her," said one of the robbers.
But his speech was not received with general favor. And when he stupidly
pursued the theme, not understanding the menacing look of Satan, one of
his companions dug an elbow in his side, and called out:
"Stow all that, you stupid donkey! Don't you see the lady you are
talking about is at the table?"
The rebuke was almost as bad as the offense had been; but it had its
effect in silencing the talkative offender.
But good-humor was soon restored. The walnuts were placed upon the
table with the dessert, and many compliments were passed upon the pretty
hands that had gathered them for the feast.
But just in the midst of their merry-making the whole party were
startled by a tremendous explosion, that seemed to shake the mountain
side.
All sprung to their feet, and stood gazing in amazement at each other
until the echoes of the thunder died away. There was silence for a
moment after, and then Moloch suddenly burst into a peal of laughter, in
which he was soon joined by all his companions, with the exception of
Satan, who sat frowning upon them.
"What is the meaning of this rudeness?" he sternly demanded.
"Oh, boss! don't you know? We are laughing at the beaks! They have blown
themselves up in the old Haunted Chapel!" answered one of the party.
"Good Heaven! A wholesale murder! I was not prepared for that!"
exclaimed the captain.
"A wholesale murder, or a wholesale accident, if you please, boss! but
no murder. Nobody told them to take lights down into that vault, where
there was gunpowder lying around loose! And if the trap was set for one
meddler and caught a dozen, why, so much the better, I say! And I don't
think it could a caught much less than a dozen, seeing as there were
about fifteen or twenty men in the chapel when I spied it this afternoon
from my cover in the woods on the mountain behind it, and I reckon there
must a' been more than half of them killed."
"Hush!" said Satan; "don't you see that this lady is nearly fainting
with terror?"
Sybil was indeed as white as a ghost, and on the very verge of swooning.
But she managed to command nerve enough to ask:
"Was--can you tell me--was my husband in the chapel this afternoon?"
"Oh, no, ma'am!" answered the robber, who had immediately taken his cue
from the glance of his captain's eye. "Oh, no, ma'am, I met him on his
road to Blackville early this afternoon."
This was partly true, for the man _had_ really seen Lyon Berners when he
was walking along the river road to meet Joe. Sybil believed it to be
wholly true, and uttered an exclamation of thankfulness.
The wine passed more freely, and the men grew merrier, wilder, and more
uproarious. Sybil became very much alarmed; and not so much by the noisy
orgies of these rude revellers, as by the dreadful gaze of Moloch fixed
upon her from the opposite end of the table where he sat, and the
offensive language of Satan's eyes whenever they turned towards her.
At length, unable to bear the trial longer, she arose from her seat, and
courtesying to these brigands as she would have done to any set of
gentlemen of whom she was taking leave, Sybil left the cavern, followed
by Gentiliska.
"I must take you to another grotto. You cannot occupy mine to-night,"
said the girl, with evident reluctance.
"But, oh! why, why may I not stay with you? I am afraid to sleep alone
in this terrible place!" pleaded Sybil.
"I have a reason, but I cannot tell it to you now. Yes, I will, too! I
will tell you at all risks! Then it is this: My chamber is no longer
safe for you! I myself am not strong enough to protect you! You might be
carried off forcibly from my side! I must hide you where no devil may
find you to-night!" whispered the girl.
"My blood curdles! Oh, help me if you can!" cried Sybil.
"I cannot help you! I can only hide you! I could perhaps save you from
insult by sober men; but who shall save you from maniacs, mad with
drink?"
"Yet you have always saved yourself! How have you managed to do so?"
"I have grown up among them, their child! That makes all the
difference!"
"Oh, Heaven help me! Would I were dead!" cried Sybil, in an agony of
terror.
"Oh, bosh! that's the cry of weakness! I've seen some hard times, but I
never wished myself dead yet!" said the girl, as she led her guest
through a labyrinth of small caverns until she reached one smaller and
more remote than the others.
"Oh, do not leave me here alone!" pleaded Sybil. "If I must stay, stay
with me! I do not fear death; but oh! I fear these men! Do not leave
me!"
"I must, for your own safety. They must not miss me, or their suspicions
will be aroused."
Then pointing to a bed of moss, and recommending her guest to lie down
and seek repose, Gentiliska glided away through the labyrinth of caves
and was lost to sight and hearing.
Sybil's first impulse was to start up and run after her hostess, but she
restrained herself, and sank half fainting upon the heap of moss.
There was but a faint sparkling of light in the cave, coming from a
crevice in the roof through which the moonlight entered, and glancing
down, struck here and there upon the stalactites on the walls.
"Seek repose," had been the advice of Gentiliska.
Sybil dared not seek it if she could, and could not have found it if she
had. She lay there with her eyes wide open, staring towards the entrance
of the cavern, as if she feared the sudden apparition of some horrid
shape. She lay there with every nerve strung up to the severest tension,
and every faculty of mind and body on the alert. She scarcely breathed,
but lay motionless, and watched and listened intently. Hour after hour
passed in this stern tension of her frame, this trance-like stillness
and silence, when at length she fancied she heard a creeping, stealthy
step approaching. Nearly frozen with terror, she listened and watched
more intently than ever. Alone, helpless, in darkness and solitude, what
horrid fate must she meet! The creeping, cautious footstep drew nearer,
nearer!
Oh, Heaven! it was no fancy! The entrance of the cavern was more deeply
darkened for one moment, and then the huge form of Moloch stood within
the cavern and nearly filled it up.
Paralyzed with horror, Sybil could neither move nor cry out--not even
when the monster approached the bed and put his profane hand upon her
face.