CORA AND THE FRENCH MAID MEASURE SWORDS.
During the day, Miss Arthur communicated to her maid the fact that Mr.
Percy would remain in Bellair for the present. He was going away for a
day on business; then he would return and take up his abode at the
Bellair inn.
"Would monsieur be absent to-morrow?"
"Yes."
Then, as mademoiselle would not especially need her, would she
graciously give her the day? Her sister had just returned from Paris,
and would very soon leave the city _en route_ for Washington. Her
sister was in the service of Mrs. General Delonne--of course
mademoiselle had heard of Madame Delonne; knew her, perhaps. Celine
much desired to see this sister, and expected to get some valuable
hints from her regarding the very latest French _coiffeurs_, etc.,
etc. In short, could mademoiselle spare her to-morrow, just for one
little day?
Mademoiselle, after due deliberation, perhaps in consideration of the
new _coiffeurs_, graciously consented. This matter was settled while
the dinner toilet of the lady was in progress; and Celine spared no
pains to make her mistress satisfied with herself and all about her.
"How long had Mr. Percy been in the little parlor, Celine, before I
came down?" questioned the lady.
She was still a trifle dissatisfied at having found her lover so
cosily _tete-a-tete_ with her fascinating sister-in-law.
"Oh, a very short time, my lady--I mean mademoiselle."
"And how did he meet Mrs. Arthur?" anxiously.
"Madame was just entering from the terrace; they met in the hall,"
glibly.
"And did they meet like old friends, Celine?"
"Oh, no! mademoiselle; quite formally. At first I fancied he was
really displeased at meeting her--but of course mademoiselle knew the
reason for that," slyly.
"Hush, you foolish girl," said the flattered spinster; "it's all
right, of course." And she relapsed into reverie.
Miss Arthur had exhausted her patience waiting for her tardy admirer,
and, finding her own apartments dull, had come down to the parlor,
thus interrupting the interview, to the disgust of more than one of
those interested.
Mr. Percy had many questions yet to propound to his newly-found wife,
as he called her, and she, knowing him so well, felt a trifle more
uneasy than was comfortable, wondering what use, if any, he intended
to make of the small amount of power he still possessed over her. She
must hold another interview with him, and that soon. Meantime, she
left him to the tender mercies of the happy spinster.
It was late in the evening when she at last found a convenient
opportunity, and crossed the hall in the direction of Miss Arthur's
dressing-room. She was about to open the door and enter, when her
movement was anticipated by Celine, who appeared upon the threshold in
hat and shawl.
Mrs. Arthur seemed not at all abashed, but pushing the girl back into
the room, stepped in herself and closed the door. "You were going out,
Celine?" smiling sweetly.
"Yes, madame," respectfully.
"May I ask where?"
"Certainly, madame. I have leave to go and see my sister to-morrow. I
am going to telegraph her that she may expect me. Can I serve madame?"
Madame pondered a moment.
"Celine," she said, abruptly. "Why did you pretend to answer a ring
this morning, when your mistress came down to the little parlor?"
"I trust madame was not offended," deprecatingly.
"No, no," impatiently; "but I want to understand you."
"Madame shall. Madame must know that my mistress is not always smooth
in temper?"
"Yes," laughing wickedly.
"This morning she bade me admit the gentleman, tell him she was in the
grounds, and then come to her. He came, and almost immediately saw
you, madame, walking on the terrace."
"Stop. How did he act when he saw me, Celine?"
The girl looked at her in apparent hesitation. "Madame will not be
angry with me?"
"No, no."
"He looked almost frightened, and took his hat, as if about to go."
Cora uttered a low, triumphant, "Ah, did he?"
"Then he called me back as I was leaving the room to summon my
mistress, and asked me who you were. I told him. He looked relieved,
said he had mistaken you for an old acquaintance, and bade me ask you
to come to him, and say nothing to Miss Arthur until he desired it."
"I see; but why did you follow her, when she came down? Did she know
we were there?"
"No, madame."
"Then why--"
"Pardon," with a sidelong glance at her face, "but madame is
beautiful, and my mistress is jealous. I thought you might wish me to
do as I did, and I desired to serve you, madame."
Cora eyed her keenly. "But why serve me, Celine?"
"Madame has ever been gracious to Celine," said the girl, lowering her
eyes. "Even a servant appreciates kindness--my mistress never
considers that."
Cora's thoughts flew fast. If she could trust this girl, she might
make her very useful. She had sought this interview to question her
concerning the adventure of the morning, and now might she not be of
still more service?
A few more sharply-put questions were asked, and answered with
corresponding shrewdness. Then Celine detailed, in her own way, her
interview with her mistress on the subject of Mr. Percy's visit.
Cora was at last fully satisfied that, for some reason, Miss Arthur
had aroused a feeling of antagonism in the breast of her maid. She
resolved to profit by this state of affairs. Accordingly, a few
moments later, Celine Leroque flitted out from the house the bearer of
two important messages.
One, in writing, was a telegram to be sent to Lucian Davlin.
The other was a verbal message to be delivered, in some way, to Mr.
Percy before he quitted the grounds of Oakley.
Pausing at a safe distance from the house, Celine produced from her
pocket some waxen matches. She lighted one, having looked cautiously
about her, and spreading open the telegram to Mr. Davlin, read these
words:
Come down to-morrow without fail. It is most important.
C.
"So," muttered Miss Arthur's maid as, flinging away the match, she
hurried on her way; "so he must be consulted; he must come down. In
the absence of Percy, too. I wonder if he knows, this Percy, that
Lucian Davlin at present personates the dutiful brother of his fair
lost love." Such a sneer rested on the face of the French maid. "Well!
Mr. Davlin must come and, unfortunately, I can't be present at this
interview. However, I shall be able to judge pretty accurately by
their future movements what was its portent."
Edward Percy, as he chose to call himself, was not aware of the
position held by Lucian Davlin in that household. Cora had seized an
opportunity to murmur to Miss Arthur a soft warning.
"Ellen, dear!" she had said, "pray don't mention Lucian to Mr. Percy,
unless you wish to shorten his stay with us. The fact is, the two had
a slight misunderstanding while we were all at Long Branch, about a
horse or something. Lucian was very much to blame, I think, but they
parted bad friends. It is best never to interfere in men's quarrels,
so I have not mentioned Lucian's name to him at all."
Cunning Celine! Her tact had made this explanation seem a quite
probable one; and as Miss Arthur certainly had no desire to drive Mr.
Percy from Oakley, she assured her "kind, thoughtful Cora," that she
would be very guarded and never once mention Mr. Davlin's name in his
enemy's presence.
Of this fact, of course, Celine was in total ignorance, as she
proceeded on her way, which was not to the telegraph office; at least
not yet.
Hurrying through the Oakley wood in the opposite direction from the
village, she crossed the meadow and approached the cottage of Nurse
Hagar. A light was dimly visible through the paper curtains, but no
sound was heard from within. The girl listened at the door a moment,
and then tapped softly.
Presently slip-shod feet could be heard crossing the uncarpeted floor,
and a key creaked in its lock, after which the door opened, a very
little way, and the old woman's face peered cautiously out into the
night. Then she hastily opened the door wide and admitted the visitor.
"Is it you, dearie?" she asked, rather unnecessarily, surveying her
critically by the light of a flaring tallow candle.
"No, Aunt Hagar, it's not I," laughed the girl; "it's Miss Arthur's
French maid that you see before you. And don't drop that tallow on her
devoted head," lifting a deprecating hand.
"Umph! we seem in great spirits to-night," leading the way back to the
fire-place, beside which stood her easy splint-bottomed chair.
"So we are," assented the girl; "and why shouldn't we be, pray? Aren't
we a very happy French maid, and a very skillful one, and a very lucky
one?"
"How should I know?" grumbled the old woman; "what do I know? I'm only
old Hagar; don't mind explaining anything to me!"
"By which you mean, beware of your wrath if I don't explain things to
you; eh, auntie?"
[Illustration: "Celine looked cautiously around her."--page 159.]
Hagar mumbled something, not exactly intended to be a speech but
simply a small growl, illustrative of her mood. Then, as if her
dignity had been sufficiently asserted, she relaxed her grimness,
and looking kindly down upon the girl, and pushing her toward the big
chair, said:
"But law! child, you look fagged out. Sit down, sit down, and don't
mind an old woman's grumbling."
"Did I ever?" laughed the girl, sinking into the big chair as if
indeed willing to rest. "But I can't sit here long, nursie; my day's
work, or rather my night's work, is not yet finished."
"Not yet? Oh, Madeline, my little nursling, give up these wild plans
and plots; they will bring you no good."
"Won't they?" nodding significantly. "I think they will do me good,
and you, too, Nurse Hagar; and before very long, too. Why, bless you,
these precious plotters won't wait for me to bring them into my net;
they are tumbling in headlong--all of them. They are helping me, with
all their might, to bring about their own downfall. Hagar," and the
girl leaned suddenly forward and looked closely into the old woman's
face, "I want you to come back to Oakley."
Hagar started back as if struck by a knife. She was about to open her
lips and set free a torrent of indignant protest, when the girl lifted
her hand, interrupting her in the old characteristic way.
"Wait until I explain, auntie. I want you to go to Oakley to-morrow,
at the hour when Mr. John Arthur is always supposed to be taking his
after-dinner nap. Just after dinner, I want you to see Madame Cora;
manage it in your own way, but see her you must."
"I won't!" broke in the old woman.
"You will," said the girl, quietly, "when I have told you why."
Drawing her chair close to that occupied by her companion, she resumed
in a low voice:
"Yesterday Miss Arthur sent me to the village to purchase some
trifling articles for the adornment of her precious person. Returning
through the woods, I came upon Mr. Davlin and his 'sister,' conversing
very earnestly, just at the lower end of the terrace. I arrived at the
hedgerow stile just in time to hear madame say, very emphatically,
that something must be done immediately. They were going down the
terrace steps when I passed them, pretending to be in a great hurry.
As soon as their backs were toward me, I turned quickly, and without
noise crossed the stile, followed them on the opposite side of the
hedge, and listened."
Here the speaker paused and looked up, but her auditor was gazing
moodily into the fire, and never stirred nor spoke.
"Madame was saying," resumed the narrator, "that she was heartily
weary of the part she was playing; that its monotony sickened her;
that they had secured the victims, and fate had been kind enough to
remove the only stumbling block in their path, save the old man
himself; that she considered my very sensible demise a direct answer
to her pious prayers."
The old woman shuddered and cast a look of horror upon the speaker.
"They had evidently discussed this matter before, and partially
settled their plans, only the man seemed to think it was too soon to
begin to act. But madame declared that she should do worse if they did
not commence operations at once, and finally she overruled him."
"Of course," savagely.
"Of course. Well, I now lost a little of their conversation, but I
kept the thread of it. You see, I had to move very cautiously, and
sometimes fall behind them a bit, when the leafage became less thick."
Hagar nodded.
"Their plan was a beautiful one, and they have already set it in
motion."
"Already?"
"Already; don't interrupt, please; I will tell you how in good time.
First, then, madame is to fall ill--not desperately ill, but just ill
enough to be interesting, and to alarm the old man. By the way, Mr.
Davlin left this morning for the city; that is one move. He is to
remain in the city until after the illness of madame, who is to refuse
to receive any of the village doctors. Finally, he is to be sent for,
and admonished to bring with him their old family physician, who has
but just returned from Europe. Well, they come, the brother and the
family physician--do you follow me?"
"Yes, yes!" nodding eagerly.
"They come. And the doctor says madame is threatened with a malignant
fever, and orders everybody out of the house. It is needless to say
that Miss Arthur flies instantly; but _le docteur_, interviewing the
half-sick, fidgety old man, discovers that he, too, is threatened with
the fever. Of course, he can not leave then."
Old Hagar's eyes were twinkling, and she was bending forward now in an
eagerly attentive attitude. "No," she breathed, unconsciously.
"Well, the heroic brother will refuse to fly from the fever, and will
implore the skillful man of medicine to remain and minister unto the
sick. The good doctor stays. Of course, such of the servants as are at
all likely to prove troublesome, through possessing a trifle more
brains than is usually alloted to an idiot, will be kindly told that,
rather than endanger their lives, the household will dispense with
their valuable services. Then a nurse, perhaps two, will come down
from the city, and the plotters have the game in their own hands."
Here the girl paused, and leaned back in her chair as if her story
were done.
"And then?" exclaimed Hagar.
"And then!" echoed her companion, bending forward and resting her hand
upon the old woman's wrist; "and then madame will recover--but John
Arthur will remain an invalid and a prisoner! It will be said in the
village that the fever has affected his brain, and his unpopularity,
arising from the fact that he has always shunned and scorned the
village folk, will insure them against intrusive investigators.
Auntie, they have hatched a pretty plot."
"But," objected Hagar, "they will have to stay at Oakley, if he is to
be a prisoner. They won't dare leave him with keepers and--"
"True," the girl interrupted. "I don't know how they will manage the
rest; but having settled this much, madame and her 'brother' paused at
the end of the path. I saw her as she looked up into his face, and
this is what she said: 'When he is once a prisoner, what could be more
natural than that a crazy, sick old man should _die_ some day?' Then
the man replied, 'Nothing;' and they both returned to the house,
without another word."
For some moments silence reigned in Hagar's dwelling. The old woman
seemed either unable, or unwilling, to utter a word of comment upon
the story to which she had been so attentive a listener.
Celine at length arose and said, as she began pacing to and fro before
the old woman. "Well, have you anything to say to this?"
"Yes," quietly.
"Then why don't you speak out? Are you horribly shocked?"
"No."
"No? Well, so much the better!"
Hagar arose, pushed back her chair, crossed the room, and, pulling
back the curtain, looked out into the night. Then turning her
inscrutable old face upon the girl she said, quite calmly:
"Why should not others measure out to John Arthur the same bitter
draught that he filled for your mother, years ago? Bah! it is only
retribution!"
"True," said the girl, sternly. Then, in a guarded tone: "And you
would make no attempt to overturn their finely laid plans?"
"I? _No!_" fiercely. "You? I thought you wanted revenge."
"And so I do,--and will have it."
"How, then?"
"Will you go to Madame Arthur?"
"What for?"
"Ah, now you reason. I will tell you."
Hurriedly she unfolded her plan; and after some differences of
opinion, dame Hagar agreed to play her part in the coming drama.
Having finally arranged Hagar's _role_ to their mutual satisfaction,
Celine hurriedly recounted her day's adventures, saying, by way of
_finale_:
"So now you see, nursie, I must hasten and send madame's message on
its way. I shall depend upon you to tell me if Mr. Davlin comes to
Bellair to-morrow, for I have a fancy that madame will manage, in some
way, to prevent his coming to the house, as it was fully settled that
he was not to appear at Oakley until summoned to his sister's
sick-bed."
"I can easily learn if he appears at the Bellair station."
"Exactly; that is all I wish to know. Now I must go and waylay Mr.
Percy. So good night, auntie, and cheer up; our time is coming fast."
"And trouble coming, too; God help us."
The girl turned upon her swiftly, with flashing eyes. "Are you afraid?
Do you want to give it up?"
"I am afraid for you. But give up now; never!"
"Brave old nursie!"
The girl flung both arms about the old woman, and kissed her withered
cheeks.
"Never fear for me; my star is rising. Don't forget your mission,
auntie; good-night."
The "good-night" came back over her shoulder, as the girl was hurrying
down the cottage steps, and Hagar closed the door behind her
retreating figure.