CORA "STIRS UP THE ANIMALS."
It was evening--the evening of the day on which Mrs. Ralston had made
her startling revelation. Madeline Payne stood alone in her own room,
looking moodily out upon the leafless grove that was fast taking on a
covering of snow.
The storm that had been impending for days, had broken at last. For
two hours the snow had been falling thickly, steadily, in great
feather-like flakes, which quickly covered the brown earth, and
clothed the naked treetops with a fair, white garment.
Madeline had been standing, motionless and moody, for many minutes.
Her eyes were full of dissatisfaction, and her lips were compressed.
She had been taking a mental review of the situation, and its present
aspect was far from pleasing.
"What a knot," she soliloquized; "what a difficult, baffling,
miserable knot! To be kept thus inactive just because the last knot in
the tangle will not come straight--good gracious, how like a pun that
sounds! How much longer must I smile upon these wretches? How much
longer must I conceal my real feelings? I will put my forces into
action, and make my last, desperate venture, for this is becoming
intolerable. I must force, or buy, this secret from Edward Percy, at
the cost of his safety, or my fortune, if need be."
She pressed her face against the frosted pane, peering down through
the gathering night and the snow.
"Mercy!" she ejaculated, "who on earth can be plowing through this
storm? And on what errand? It looks like--and, as I live, it is, yes,
it is, Mr. Edward Percy! He is too dainty to expose himself for
nothing. I must look into this."
While she was musing at the window, Cora, curled up behind one of the
crimson curtains of the red parlor, had become the possessor of a
valuable secret.
She had entered the room but a few moments before. Finding it dimly
lighted, and heated to a Summer temperature, she ensconced herself _a
la Sultana_ in one of the deep window embrasures, and lay sulkily
watching the flying snowflakes and the fast coming night. Presently
the sound of approaching footsteps, and almost simultaneously the
opening of the door, disturbed her quiet. With a quick movement, she
drew the curtains together and sat, a silent listener, to a brief
dialogue.
The new comers were Miss Arthur and Edward Percy. After a few
sentences had been interchanged, Percy left the room, and then it was
that Madeline saw him take his way toward the village.
Presently Miss Arthur also quitted the room; and going straight
up-stairs, Cora knocked at Madeline's door. "Now, then," muttered she,
"I'll stir up the animals."
Madeline did not look especially gratified at sight of her visitor,
but Cora entered with scant ceremony. Pushing the door shut with
unnecessary emphasis, she turned upon her, saying, rather
ungraciously:
"I have made a discovery of which, I think, you will thank me for
telling you. And I am going to tell you because I can't spoil their
plans, but you can, and I want to see them spoiled."
"Your frankness is commendable," said Madeline, ironically. "Go on!"
"Percy and the old maid are going to be privately married to-morrow
morning."
"How do you know?"
Cora related the particulars of her ambush, and gave a concise report
of the conversation of the lovers.
"He has gone to the village on that very business now," Cora said.
"She is to walk down to the clergyman's house, and he is to meet her
there. Then they will come back, and no one to be the wiser."
Madeline laughed. "Be at ease," she said. "I will try and prevent the
necessity for such a disagreeable walk as that would be for so fragile
a lady. We won't have a wedding just yet."
"What a cool one you are!" cried Cora. "If you were not my enemy, I
could admire you vastly."
"Don't, I beg of you," said the girl, gravely. "I am sufficiently
humiliated by being obliged to deal with you as an enemy."
Cora flushed angrily. "Then I should think the humiliation of being
made love to by my brother, would overcome you," she sneered.
"It does, almost," replied the girl, wearily.
"Then let me do you another favor. Mr. Davlin is no more my brother
than he is yours."
Madeline's answer fairly took her breath away. "Madame, you are very
good, but I have known that from the first."
"What!" gasped the woman; adding, after a moment of silence, "Is he
your lover as well as--"
"Yours?" finished Madeline. "And what then, Mrs. Arthur?"
"Then," hissed Cora; "then, I hate you both."
Madeline laughed bitterly. "As you have told me a secret, and as I
don't want to remain in your debt, I will tell you one in return.
Lucian Davlin _is_ my lover, but I am his bitterest foe!"
Cora came closer and looked her eagerly in the face. "What has he done
to you?" she asked, breathlessly.
"You may find out later; just now we are even. Understand, no word of
warning to him, if you value your safety. Obey my wishes, and when I
am done with you, you may go free. Attempt any treachery, and I will
give you up to justice."
"I shan't put myself in jeopardy for him now, whatever I might have
done. You may believe that."
"I think I may," replied Madeline, dryly.
When Cora retired to her own room, to chuckle over the discomfiture in
store for the spinster and Mr. Percy, and to wonder wrathfully what
the mystery concerning Miss Payne and Lucian could mean, Madeline
stood for many minutes lost in thought.
Finally she threw herself down upon a couch, uttering a half sigh, and
looking utterly weary and perplexed. A moment later, Joliffe entered
noiselessly, as usual, and the girl said to her:
"When Miss Arthur retires for the night, which won't be for some time,
do you see Mr. Percy when he is _alone_, mind, and tell him Miss Payne
desires him to wait her pleasure in the library."
Joliffe bowed and went out again like a cat.
When, at last, the other members of that incongruous family circle
were safely out of the way, Madeline, warned by the everpresent,
soundless Joliffe, awaited in the library the coming of Mr. Percy.
Wondering much what the haughty heiress could have to communicate to
him, and dimly hoping that the tide was turning in his favor, Mr.
Percy entered the presence of the arbiter of his fate. Bowing like a
courtier, he approached her.
"Miss Payne has deigned to honor me with an interview," he said, in
his slowest, softest, most irresistible manner. "I can never be
sufficiently grateful."
Madeline motioned him to a seat opposite her own, saying, with an odd
smile: "You shall, at least, have an opportunity for repaying your
debt of gratitude, sir, and that immediately."
Percy took the seat indicated and bowed gravely. "Command me, Miss
Payne."
"It rests with you," Madeline began, "whether we shall be from
to-night neutral toward each other, or enemies."
"Enemies!" he exclaimed. "Oh, that would be impossible."
Madeline was full of inward rage. She longed to lean across the table
and dash her hand full in that smiling blonde face. But she looked at
him instead quite tranquilly, and said, with a queer smile: "Then you
would do me a favor, even at your own personal--inconvenience, Mr.
Percy?"
"Would I not?" fervently. "Only command me, Miss Payne."
"I will take you at your word, then. Mr. Percy, you will oblige me
very much by putting off your marriage with Miss Arthur one week
longer."
Here was a bomb-shell. It electrified the languid gentleman. He became
suddenly animated by fear. "What--what do you mean, Miss Payne?"
starting half out of his seat and nervously sitting down again.
"Precisely what I say, sir. It does not please me to have my relative
leave my house to be married in this clandestine manner. There, don't
ask me how I discovered what you thought was a profound secret. You
see I did discover it. Will you put off this romantic marriage--to
oblige me?"
Percy was trying very hard to think. If he could believe it was
because he had found favor in her eyes, that she asked this. But no;
even his vanity could not credit that suggestion. Of late she had
openly shown a preference for Davlin. What, then, could be her motive?
Could it be that at the instigation of Cora she had sought this
interview?
He rallied his forces and replied: "Miss Payne, you have taken me by
storm. If I may not ask how you made this discovery, may I not, at
least, beg to know why you make this demand?"
"I have told you; it shocks my sense of propriety."
"Pardon me if I say there must be another motive."
"You are pardoned," coolly; "now, do you grant my request?"
Percy arose from the table flushed and angry. "Pardon me, Miss Payne,
you demand too much."
"Nevertheless, I _do_ demand it."
"And I beg to decline."
"Then I must deal with Miss Arthur. The knowledge that you have one
wife in the grave, and another under this very roof, may have the
desired effect upon _her_."
Percy dropped back in his chair, pale as ashes. All was lost, then.
Cora had betrayed him! But he resolved not to commit himself. Perhaps
Madeline had only verbal information. While he was trying to frame a
speech, however, she knocked this last prop from under him.
"I may as well assure you that parleying is useless. I have known,
from the first moment you entered this house, just upon what terms you
stood with Mrs. Arthur. Don't trouble yourself to ask how I know.
Perhaps you have been puzzled to know why Mrs. Arthur and her brother
so suddenly became cordial and invited you to Oakley, where you so
much desired to be. Let me enlighten you. They fancied that you had
regained possession of important documents--two marriage certificates,
in fact--for they had lost them."
"What?" ejaculated Percy.
"And--I found them," added Madeline.
His countenance fell again.
"They are in my possession," pursued she. "Shall I show them to Miss
Arthur, or not?"
"It can't make much difference now," said the man, sullenly.
"Let us understand each other fully," said Madeline. "I am not acting
in concert with Cora Arthur. She is even more in my power than you
are. I have no desire to undeceive Miss Arthur. Neither do I wish you
to leave Oakley. On the contrary, I want you here; you can be of
service to me, by and by. And I pledge you my word that so long as you
remain under this roof, those papers shall not be used against you."
"And if I don't choose to remain?"
Madeline laughed. "Then you must take the consequences," she said,
carelessly.
"And what will they be?"
"Exposure and arrest."
Percy drew pen, ink, and paper toward him. "What shall I write to the
clergyman?" he asked, sullenly.
"Whatever you choose. And I will send it. Make your peace with Miss
Arthur, too, in your own way."
"And when I leave Oakley, what then?" he grunted.
"Then, if you have fulfilled the conditions, I will burn the papers in
your presence, and you are free henceforth."
"There is the note," he said, flinging it toward her as soon as
written. "After all, I may as well be in your power as in hers," and
again he arose to go from the room.
"I am glad you take so sensible a view of it," retorted she, looking
up from her perusal of his note. "Good-night, Mr. Percy."
And thus cavalierly dismissed, Mr. Percy bowed, somewhat less
gallantly than when entering, and left the room.
"So, that is nipped in the bud," soliloquized Madeline, as she went
wearily to her own room once more. "When will this miserable
complication unravel itself, or be unraveled?"
Little did she dream how soon she would receive an answer to this
question.