"O purblind race of miserable men,
How many among us at this very hour
Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves
By taking true for false, or false for true."
TENNYSON.
I followed Kitty down the dark paths of the shrubbery, and, as far as I
could tell, through the dazzling gauze of my mask, some distance across
the park.
"Where are you taking me? There is no need of such precaution."
"O yes, indeed," she answered eagerly, "if you had gone right around the
house and gone in, they would have known in a minute that it was
somebody who lived there. Mr. Wynkar and the captain were on the steps,
watching. I saw them."
She hurried me on till we reached a clump of trees too far from the
lamps suspended to the branches of those on the lawn to be lighted by
them; then pausing, she looked quickly around.
"Are you not tired, Miss?" she said, raising her voice. "Hadn't you
better rest a minute here? We walked so fast."
"No," I answered, with slight impatience. "I want to go immediately to
the house."
"Yes, Miss," she said, uneasily. "Just wait till this carriage passes."
It might have been fancy, but I thought I heard a step behind me, and
starting forward, I called Kitty instantly to follow me. She could not
but obey, and only left me where the lamps from the piazza threw too
strong a light for her to venture. Whispering to me where I should find
her if I wanted her during the evening, she slipped away, and I walked
on.
The carriage reached the entrance, and the occupants of it alighted and
disappeared within the awning before I arrived at it. There were several
groups of masked figures on the piazza as I entered the inclosed walk
from the carriageway, and, mounting the steps, approached the door.
"How spectral!" whispered one. "And look at that black shadow following
so close."
I turned involuntarily at this; a black domino whom I had not perceived
had entered with me, and I hurried forward into the house a little
abruptly, to escape his companionship, and, crossing the brilliant and
beautifully decorated hall, I entered the drawing-room. There was a
temporary lull in the dancing, and I paused a moment to reconnoitre
before I advanced to Mrs. Churchill. She was unmasked, and was to
receive the guests; she stood at the other end of the room, and it was
rather a formidable thing to cross to her, but remembering to disguise
my step, I walked slowly and with some stateliness over to where she
stood, made my devoirs, and turned away; but half a yard behind me was
my black shadow. All eyes were upon us.
"What a ghostly pair!" exclaimed a vivacious peasant girl from the
folding-doors. "I shall not be astonished if, when the masks are dropped
at supper-time, a skeleton should step out of that black domino, and
preside at the feast!"
"And a nymph of Lurley out of that white drapery," said "General
Washington," approaching and offering me his arm. We made the tour of
the rooms, admired the flowers, discussed the dresses, and tried to find
each other out. I soon discovered my companion to be Mr. Emerson of the
Grove, a fine, dignified old gentleman, whom I had always admired. His
unconscious interest in, and admiration for, a tall brunette, whose
black eyes sparkled even through her mask, betrayed her immediately to
me as his daughter, Miss Janet Emerson. The Misses Mason were
flower-girls of course; their mamma, by virtue of her literary
proclivities and immense fund of sentiment, appeared as a sibyl, and
told fortunes untiringly; the younger Mr. Mason wore an English
hunting-dress, and the elder one escaped my observation among the crowd
of greater strangers in the room. An Oxford student paid me marked
attention, but discovering the unmistakable white eyelashes and feeble
voice of my pet aversion, Ellerton Wynkar, I became discouragingly
distant and severe, and he transferred his devotion to a pretty Greek
dress, which I soon concluded must enshrine the indolent loveliness of
my cousin Grace.
Beyond this, my penetration was entirely at fault; among the crowd of
grotesque and graceful figures, I tried in vain to recognize any of our
own party. There were half a dozen men of Phil's height, and as many of
Mr. Rutledge's make; so many imitated the captain's military manner,
that it was impossible to recognize the stork among the cranes. There
were two Louis Quatorze costumes, that more than any others suggested
Josephine and Ella, but I could not be positive; they were so exactly
alike, that even when together one could not detect a shade of
difference either in dress or manner. The powdered hair and masks, of
course, concealed the diversity of color and complexion.
"Those two are the most distinguished-looking in the room," said General
Washington, by way of small talk. "I suppose you have recognized
them--Miss Churchill and her cousin."
"Which cousin?"
"The one who is engaged to the young Frenchman. Quite a pretty girl. I
never saw her look so well as she does to-night."
"Which is Mr. Rutledge, do you know?" I asked.
"I have not made him out yet, but if you care to know the surest way
will be to stay here, in the neighborhood of Miss Churchill: he will not
be very far off!"
"Then let us sit here," and I sank down on a sofa.
"Your cavalier keeps a faithful watch upon your movements," said my
companion. "He has followed you from room to room, and is just behind
you now."
"Who is it that you mean?"
"The black domino--the gentleman who came with you."
And the black domino at that moment bent down, and, in a low, smothered
voice, asked me if I would dance. I declined very quickly, and turned
away my head.
"Miss Churchill, will you dance this set with me?" asked a gentleman, in
French, approaching me.
Disguised as the voice was, there was something familiar in it. I gave
him my hand, and we took our places at the head of the room. It very
soon became evident that he had mistaken me for Miss Churchill, and I
determined to keep up the character. It was not very difficult; we were
exactly the same size, and I had always been a good mimic, so that, in
five minutes, I was coquetting, twisting my fan, and taking off
Josephine to the life. It was not so easy to find out who I was
quizzing. He was evidently a master of the art of deception, disguised
his voice, his step, his manner, and was never off his guard an instant.
He did not answer to anybody's description exactly, though I was
constantly convinced, by his familiarity with us all, that he was "one
of us." I tried to bait him with allusions to all our acquaintance, but
he was too wary to rise to any of them.
"How did you find me out so easily?" I said, with a laugh so like
Josephine's that I was absolutely startled myself. "I thought I was
disguised beyond all detection."
"Not from me."
"Ah, you are so clever!" I said, putting my head on one side, with an
affectation characteristic of Josephine. "Now help me to discover some
of the others. Who is our vis-à-vis in the Spanish dress?"
"_You_ should not have to ask."
"_Mais qui?_"
"Mr. Arbuthnot, _sans doute_."
"Ah! my heart should have told me Phil! Which is the captain?"
"'Ivanhoe,' there by the door, talking with the 'Father of his
Country.'"
"And oh! tell me, for I am dying to know, have you found out my cousin?"
"I do not think she is in the room."
"Impossible! Then she must be ill."
"Indifferent, more probably."
"Ah! perhaps. 'There is but one with whom she has heart to be gay!' But
has nobody been up to see what has become of her?"
"No one, I fancy."
"Had I better go?"
"That's as you please," with a slight shrug.
"Well, I'll see, after this dance. Who is that black domino, pray?"
"That is more than I can tell you. He is the only man in the room whom I
have not detected. He has not danced, nor spoken to any one, I think. I
shall watch him closely and be near him when he unmasks."
"Yes, but that's rather uncertain. He may leave the room before then."
"That's very possible. He seems to be hovering near us. Suppose, after
this dance, you draw him into conversation, and try to make him out? He
seems to avoid me, and I am really very curious to know him."
"Very well, to gratify you, I will try to detect him; but my
cousin--will you take that duty off my hands?"
"Yes, I will send a servant to inquire, and report the result to you."
"Thank you. How _kind_ you always are! I should know that goodness of
heart under twenty dominoes, and among a thousand people!"
My companion, bowing low, gave me a quick look from under the cowl of
his monk's habit.
"You are too flattering," he said, and the dance ended.
The black domino was at my elbow, and nodding significantly to my
partner, I turned abruptly to him, and said, still in imitation of
Josephine's voice:
"Will you give me your arm? My partner has another engagement."
He bowed, and offered me his arm. His voice, when he spoke, was so low,
and so studiously disguised, it was impossible to detect anything from
that; his coarse black domino hung so long and amply about him, and the
hood was drawn so tightly around his mask, that no one could possibly
distinguish anything of his face, figure, or carriage. Before we had
made the tour of the rooms, I began to repent my bargain. There was
something in his manner that made me most uncomfortable. I determined
not to give up my assumed vivacity, but it was like chatting with a
ghost; and when I went with him into the punch-room, and raised a glass
to my lips, bowing to him over it, it seemed like a "hob-and-nob with
Death," and the laugh I laughed was a very faint and forced one, as we
set our half-tasted glasses down. I was so uncomfortable at being alone
with him, that I stammered hurriedly:
"Shan't we go back to the dancing-room?"
"Are you afraid of me?" he said quickly, and in a low tone, "can you not
give me a moment from your pleasure?"
"Sir!" I said, shrinking back; "I haven't the least idea who you are."
"You can forget, it seems. I envy you the power!"
"You talk in riddles," I said, going toward the door. Another party
entered the room, and my companion followed me out.
"What a grotesque scene!" I said, looking up and down the wide hall,
where wreaths of flowers and lights and floating flags hung, and
thronging across whose marble pavement were groups of fantastic figures.
"I never was at a masquerade before. Is it not diverting?"
"Will you come upon the piazza?" asked my companion, not heeding my
remark. "It is too warm here."
"No," I exclaimed, hurriedly, "I cannot, here is my partner."
The "friar of orders grey" obeyed my hasty summons, and I accepted his
arm with very great _empressement_, stammering some excuse to the sable
domino in the doorway, and walked down the hall.
"Well, have you discovered him?"
"No, I do not know him at all, he is very odd. I think he is a stranger.
Not anybody, at all events, that any of us know well."
"I cannot understand it," he said, musingly. "I thought you would have
been able to have obtained some clue. He seemed willing to talk to you."
"Only too willing!"
"Did he seem to recognize you?"
"I cannot tell exactly; he certainly thought he knew, but whether it
were not a mistake on his part, I cannot say."
"He avoids me; I cannot make anything of him; I shall have to put some
one else on the track."
"What of my cousin?" I asked.
"I found Kitty, who says she is not very well, but will probably be in
the room a little before supper."
"Ah, thank you. You have no idea, I suppose, what her dress is to be?"
"Kitty gave me to understand, very quietly, that she would wear a
rose-colored domino."
"There is a rose-colored domino just entering; do you imagine that is
the fair _fiancée?_"
"Very possibly," said my companion.
"She is going to dance. Is that Phil with her?"
Phil at this moment asked my partner to be his vis-à-vis, so we were
again drawn into the dance. By this time, half the people in the room
thought I was Miss Churchill, and addressed me accordingly. In one of
the pauses of the quadrille, as some one calling me by that name had
turned away, the black domino, who stood a little behind me on my left,
leaned forward and whispered:
"You cannot deceive _me;_ it was not Miss Churchill who was to have a
blue ribbon on her tassel."
I started; what intrigue was that Kitty about?
The dance was over; Phil and his partner left the room and turned toward
the piazza.
"Shall we go into the fresh air?" said my companion, following them with
his eyes. I took his arm, and we went on the piazza. The soft light of
the colored lamps, the mellow music floating out to us, the cool air in
our faces--I met with a gasp of relief and pleasure. Leading me to a
seat rather more secluded than the others, my companion threw himself on
the sofa beside me, and exclaimed, removing his mask:
"This is so unsupportably warm, I must take it off for a moment's
relief, as I believe you know me. Well! Miss Josephine, how do you think
our masquerade has succeeded? Are you satisfied with the result?"
"Perfectly," I said, feeling very guilty, and leaning back further into
the shade. "It has been a delightful affair."
He rested his brow thoughtfully and sadly on his hand for a moment. "You
are tired," I said.
"Miserably tired."
It was well for me he did not require me to talk; I should have betrayed
myself if I had attempted it. His eyes were riveted on the pair who
stood a few yards from us. Phil, bending down, was whispering in low
tones to his companion in the pink domino. There was something in her
attitude, as she listened with half-bent head, that I could not fail to
recognize, and from below the edge of her domino, I caught a glimpse of
yellow brocade. There was but one to whom Phil could talk in those
earnest tones--but one to whom he could tell that tale. Josephine, I
saw, must have gone upstairs, and put on the domino over her first
dress, the more to puzzle some of her partners. Kitty had in some way
become acquainted with her intention, and seized upon it to further the
deception that she saw prevailed in regard to me. There was very little
that escaped that clever jade. I wished, with a sigh, that she were less
unscrupulous. In a few moments, the cousins passed where we sat, nearly
concealed from them, walking slowly and talking earnestly.
"You cannot ask me to endure it longer; this suspense is misery," he
said, with a quiver in his manly voice.
"Dear Phil," murmured the clear, low tones of his companion, "you must
know my feelings toward you; I have never tried to hide them; but you
know how it is--you know it would be madness for either of us to think
of each other."
"Why would it be madness?" he urged. "Oh, Josephine! Why cannot you give
up the ambition that separates us? Depend upon it, it has stood in the
way of your happiness all your life."
It had been impossible to avoid hearing this conversation; my companion,
starting up, looked after the retreating figures amazed and stern. In
his haste, he had pulled down an American flag that had been draped over
the sofa we occupied. I started up, and involuntarily raised my hand to
replace it. The loose sleeve fell back from my arm, and in the strong
light of the lamp overhead, the scar on my wrist caught his eye. With a
quick, imperious movement, he seized my hand before I could withdraw it,
and held it firmly in one of his, while with the other he raised my
mask.
"You have deceived me," he said, between his teeth.
"You have deceived yourself, you are the victim of your own prejudices.
You cannot say I did more than humor your decision!" I returned,
quickly.
"You only acted a womanly and natural part, lied sweetly in every glance
of your bright eyes, in every turn of your graceful figure, in every
word on your red lips! I don't blame you; you are a woman."
"You are too cruel! you will repent this some day; it will be the
bitterest thing you have to remember; the recollection of it will make
you suffer as you have made me suffer."
"Never fear but I shall have enough to suffer, if the present is any
earnest of the future for me! Your kindest wishes will be more than
realized. For a proud man," he said, with a low, bitter laugh, flinging
from him the hand he held, "for a proud man, I have had some
humiliations that you would hardly believe if I told you! You could
hardly understand them in your simplicity; your soft, woman's heart
would bleed, perhaps, but it would heal itself too soon to allay in any
great degree my wretchedness. Your morning-glory tenderness would droop
before the fierceness of my pain, it would die in my hot grasp!--I will
not ask your pity, but spare me your detestation. Save the aversion that
your eyes showed then, for those who have deserved it better at your
hands."
There was a sound of voices from within, a window near us was thrown
open, and a group of people, laughing and talking, stepped out on the
piazza. Hastily restoring my mask to its place, I turned away and
entered the house through the window they had opened.
"You may have deceived one who is indifferent to you; you cannot deceive
one who loves you," said a low voice in my ear, and the black figure I
instinctively dreaded stood beside me. "For the sake of heaven, come
with me, one moment!"
"Who are you?" I murmured, shrinking back.
He bent down and whispered a name in my ear, at which the color left my
cheek, the light my eye, almost the life my pulses.
"Will you come?"
I bent my head without a word, and followed him out of the hall, down
the terrace, through the winding paths of the shrubbery, across the
garden; hurrying on to suit his fierce pace, but chilled to the heart
with a terror that was no longer nameless.