In the evening Dr. Cavin told the Elder that Lady Clare expected him to
take a hand at euchre in the drawing room. Spencer at first declined,
but on second thought decided to avail himself of a last opportunity to
observe the life and the characters at Castle Adamant. He had fully
determined to make his adieux next day, to escape, if possible, the bill
of Dr. Cavin, and the rudeness of Miss Benner. He rightly believed that
they had been playing him a trick to which his hostess was not a party.
In the course of his stay Spencer had never seen the drawing room look
so brilliant as it did on this occasion. The room was large and
luxuriously furnished, and a hundred gas-jets flung down their light
from the great central chandelier of prismatic glass through crystal
shades of many hues. The entrance was through a wide double door-way at
one side of the room, so that, upon entering, a full survey of the
apartment was had by a glance to the right and left. At either end were
marble fireplaces in which were open fires of pink flamed anthracite,
partially concealed by embroidered screens of Chinese silk and Mexican
feather-work. On the walls hung a few choice paintings which Madame
Adamanti had bought in Paris some years previously, and a portrait of
herself by Healy, which looked very little like her now, but had been a
striking likeness ten years before, when she had not only been called
the ‘handsomest woman in New Orleans,’ but had ranked, during her stay
abroad, among the dashing beauties of the French Capital. Mirrors,
flowers, rich artistic porcelains, and small groups of statuary,
tastefully arranged and displayed, completed the decoration of the room.
But the brilliant ensemble was not a little enhanced by the fashionably
dressed occupants, who were few, but just numerous enough to give
animation to the scene. Madame and Miss Benner sat near a flower-decked
table, busily occupied with their embroidery, and near them stood two or
three gallants, who seemed in a lively mood, but who took good care to
betray no signs of impropriety in Madame’s presence, as she had issued a
decree against it, and would admit no person to her house who did not
respect her wishes. Alice and Miss Ross, with two other young women, all
of whom wore superb toilets, were amusing other visitors at the further
end of the apartment, and Spencer paused on the threshold as his foot
pressed the thick velvet carpet, deeply impressed with the strange,
dazzling glamor of the scene.
Lady Clare received him kindly, and noting that he drew back as if
disinclined to enter, she went to him saying in a tone friendly, but not
loud enough to be heard by her companions:
“Come in my dear boy; you are as safe here as at home. You need not
dread these dandies because they are well-dressed; you are my guest, and
I am old enough to disregard, and influential enough, right here, to
make acceptable, the cut of your coat. So come and make yourself happy.
We shall give them a lesson at Euchre after awhile.” She made the first
remark laughingly, and, taking him by the arm, drew him to a seat beside
her table.
Dr. Cavin looked at his watch, and finding that it was eight o’clock,
excused himself with the remark that he must be off for the theatre at
once. But Ida ran to him and detained him with a confidential discourse.
The intolerable little prig looked sleek and spruce in his black dress
suit, with dazzling linen protruding some four inches at his wrists and
nearly two inches at his neck; with his hatchet face shaven, the
mustache and imperial (which were heavy enough for a man of three times
his bulk) scrupulously dyed and waxed, and the costly eye-glasses which
he wore, not that they assisted his sight, but because he thought they
made him look so wise, dangling at his lapel.
There was no introducing at Castle Adamant. Each visitor approached and
spoke to whom he chose. Spencer, therefore, was soon drawn into
conversation by some of the sports, who took him for a countryman and
casual caller at the “Castle.” Lady Clare whispered to him that he must
not enlighten them, as they would shortly have an opportunity to test
his skill at the card table. There was nothing now in which she took so
much interest as gaming, and her attachment to Spencer was on that
account; for, while he would not gamble himself, he did not mind playing
as her partner, and she had never before had such exceptionally good
luck at play. They were arranging for a game, and Dr. Cavin was hurrying
away to the theatre, when Jerry came in with a card for Madame.
“Wait a bit, Soppy,” said she, beckoning to the doctor. As she went
towards him with the card in her hand, he came back to meet her. He
glanced at the card which bore, in lead pencil, the legend—“Rev. B. T.
Smiles and wife,” and raised his eyebrows knowingly.
“I must wait, then, and see him. Confound the fellow, I’ve lost all
sorts of things on his account, and may lose my head yet.”
Jerry was directed to show the visitors in, and Madame waited at the
door of the drawing-room to greet them.
“Don’t forget to call him ‘Smiles,’” said she, as the doctor left her
and proceeded to lose his miniature body amongst the group far down the
room.
A moment later Lamont and Hagar were ushered in, and Lady Clare received
them with cordiality. She was much struck with the perfect innocence and
grace of her old friend’s latest victim, and quite forgot the game she
was about to play, in the new born, but intense interest which the
guileless young thing had instantly awakened. Her cold gray eyes
surveyed the girl again and again. Yes, it was certain, as Lamont had
reported: the girl was refined, well-bred, and pure-minded, a
combination for which she had been seeking ever since she left New
Orleans, but without success. And was it now possible that this bold and
unscrupulous man, whom she had always regarded as a very devil incarnate
(while she could not help admiring his skill and address), had placed
within her grasp a means of final escape from the life she loathed but
could not flee?
“It is true!” she muttered to herself, as she left Hagar’s side after a
few moments’ conversation. “I shall escape now! With her in my power and
obedient to my will, I can face the world anywhere as a new woman. Her
innocence will shield me. My gold shall protect and prosper her. It is
well then; for, at last, after living abroad, travelling, scouring the
earth with her to convince her of my goodness and my bounty, I shall
bring her back, restore her to her friends, and so breathe my last
breath in untainted air beneath a respectable roof.”
Spencer had sauntered towards the farther side of the saloon, amusing
himself with the works of art, and only caught a side-glance of the new
arrivals, whom he did not recognize. They were quickly surrounded by
members of the company who appeared to be acquainted with Lamont, so
that Lady Clare’s momentary agitation escaped notice.
Hagar looked a little older, attired as she was in an ultra fashionable
costume of brown silk. She met the friends of Charles Lamont with as
much heartiness as they effected towards her. She told Lamont that she
had never seen a house so nicely appointed, or women so elegantly
dressed; and took him to task for not telling her that his friends were
so wealthy and aristocratic. Their familiarity with him somewhat
surprised, but did not offend her; and though she was at first
embarrassed by the close scrutiny of the women, she soon felt perfectly
at ease, and conversed with an ingenuousness which was decidedly novel
within those walls.
Mr. ‘Smiles’ was scarcely recognizable. His light hair and mustache had
been dyed jet black before leaving Canada, and the beard he had grown
since quitting Chestnut Grove, was of the same hue. His dress was that
of a well-to-do business man in excellent taste. He had thrown off his
over-coat in the hall, so that his robust and symmetrical figure, which
had always formed one of his chief attractions with women, was exhibited
to the best advantage, as he had, no doubt, intended. But his disguise
was so complete that none but a clever detective could have penetrated
it, for besides the changes above alluded to, the peculiarly fair skin
of his face, neck, and hands, had been given a dark tinge, and he had
put on a pair of colored glasses when he entered the saloon. Mme.
Adamanti had expected him, and had put those who knew and were
interested in screening him, on their guard.
Miss Ross, who had been watching her opportunity, soon succeeded in
drawing Lamont aside to ply him with questions about the stranger. In
the earlier stages of her career at New Orleans she had been on very
friendly terms with Lamont, and now regarded herself as privileged to
say to him what he would have resented as impertinence from most women.
He seemed to admit her claim most readily, and to accord his full
sympathy and attention to her coarse and impudent raillery.
“What is she, Charlie, a preacher’s daughter, or a banker’s pet ward?
Say, what’s her name, and where did you get her?—do tell me all about
it,” she pleaded, leaning on his arm and leading him apart.
“I call her ‘Kitty’—she has no other name.”
“She’s very tony and stuck-up, I’m sure, and I wish you hadn’t brought
her here. But go on; tell me about her. Anybody can see she’s not out of
the gutter, and I just want to know how you came by her.” She had by
this time cornered him on a soft divan in a window recess, where he
amused her with a romantic little story invented for the occasion.
Meanwhile the attention of Madame Adamanti was engrossed with Hagar,
whose sweet and gentle manner charmed her as nothing had ever done
before. And when Lamont rejoined the group, with the remark that they
had only dropped in for a moment on their way to the theatre, and must
be going at once, Madame took occasion to say that she hoped to have the
pleasure of a more intimate acquaintance with his young wife.
Their movement had attracted the attention of Miss Ross, and those with
her; and they came forward with their glasses in hand. A general laugh
followed and as Lamont turned to make some gallant remark to Miss Ross,
his eyes met those of the Mormon Elder, who was standing beside her.
Though considerably changed by the growth of hair on his face, Spencer
was recognized instantly; but he was not yet aware of Hagar’s presence,
and, therefore, did not imagine that he was so near his old friend, the
“Rev. Mr. Smiles.”
For reasons he could hardly have explained Lamont was somewhat startled
by the Mormon’s proximity, and as he made his way back to where Hagar
stood talking to Lady Clare, though he seemed as lively and buoyant as
ever, he was muttering savagely to himself:—
“What devil’s message has brought that Mormon here!”
When he came near enough to touch Hagar’s elbow, he said:
“Come, Kitty, we must really be off. Lady Clare will excuse us, I am
sure.” Then having drawn her a little aside, he continued in a subdued
voice:
“I see that the Mormon, Spencer, is here. If he should recognize you,
you must ignore him. We will go at the earliest moment.”
Hagar had already begun to feel uncomfortable. She knew instinctively
that there was something unwholesome in this place, and about the people
she met here; and now the peremptory anxiety of her husband made her
tremble. She had not failed to note, also, the strange hilarity of
Lamont, and though she endeavored to ascribe, what she could scarcely
regard as less than impropriety, to his talent (of which he boasted),
for adapting himself to any and every class of society and surroundings,
she was not satisfied.
“Yes,” she cried, anxiously, “do take me home, Benjamin; I do not like
this place.”
He turned away, saying he would rejoin her in a moment. He and Lady
Clare then paced slowly down the room together, engaged in earnest
conversation. As he withdrew, some of the strange men spoke to her, but
she found herself unable to show any interest, and gazed about in a
bewildered and abstracted manner, almost ready to cry, like a child, who
suddenly realizes that it is lost. Spencer had been attracted by
something familiar he had detected in a side-view of her face, and by
shifting his position a little, was astonished to find that it was
Hagar. He was about hurrying forward to speak to her, when he noticed
that she gave him a curious look and turned her face the other way. It
was so palpable a cut that there was no mistaking its meaning; but,
though keenly sensitive to the slight, Spencer moved away with the
reflection that she was of the world, worldly; and that her
ungraciousness and ingratitude would surely hurt herself more than him.
He had read the accounts in the newspapers of her flight with ‘Smiles,’
alias Lamont, and now realized for the first time that her blonde
betrayer was transformed into the dark man who had just left her. And
though he knew, from the press reports, that this polished villain was a
secret agent of the rebellious chiefs whom he and his people honored as
the avengers of the Deity, he at once determined to track him, and, if
possible, to deliver him into the hands of the law, that he might be
punished for his detestable crimes.
“The doctor wants to speak with you before you go,” said Lady Clare to
Lamont, as they went along.
“But I have no time to waste now upon our ‘Esop the wise.’ I should
shrewdly conjecture that he has no news with which ‘my Lady’ is not
familiar?”
“Oh, yes; I can tell you if you prefer. Your wife and children have
arrived at New York, by steamer, on their way to this city.”
Lamont stopped as suddenly as if he had been paralyzed in every nerve.
“Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “It is impossible! I had letters from her at
Cleveland, and the last received in Hamilton, Ontario, told of the
severe illness of her mother, at whose bedside she was constantly
detained. But what news has the doctor received on this subject?” he
anxiously inquired, moving on slowly as before.
“It only came to-day, and I thought Soppy better tell you about it
fully. He mentioned merely the fact to me, but he has a letter from Colt
with full details. You remember, you instructed Colt several months ago,
to communicate to him any facts that might serve you if he was unable to
send me word direct; and it seems that both letters and telegrams
regarding your wife’s move have been sent and lost. Colt is determined
to shield you, while doing his best for his mistress; but it appears
that she is terribly aroused by the newspaper accounts about you, and
that her object in coming here is to endeavor to ascertain the truth.
Her mother is dead.”
“Well, here is a pretty state of things! You should have informed me of
this the moment after my arrival. I have received orders to join Bragg
for a special service as quickly as possible, and shall set out to-night
on my journey. I had little supposed that my enterprise would receive
such a damper as this! But the arrival of my wife is not the most
imminent danger. Where did you pick up that countrified plebe in the
tweed suit?”
“You know him?” asked Madame, with surprise.
“Yes, but that is not the worst of it. He knows me, and, if he should
penetrate my disguise, will give the alarm before I can get out of
reach. You must take care he doesn’t get out of the house for at least
three hours after I leave here. The address of the lodgings in Vine
street is on that card. You must be sure and go there early to-morrow
morning and fetch the girl away at once. I shall rely upon you and the
doctor to manage Colt in such a way as to induce Catherine to return to
New Orleans as early as possible. And, above all, tell him to do his
best to keep the newspapers from her, for of all the damnable things in
this world for causing trouble, they are the worst. My domestic affairs
have always gone on with perfect harmony, and I don’t care to have them
disturbed now by the ravings of a lot of grovelling penny-a-liners!”
Though Lady Clare was inclined to laugh at this outburst of righteous
indignation, her thoughts were too much occupied with more serious
matters.
“I see that the loss of his daughter killed the poor old man. Had she a
mother living?” she asked.
“No; nor was she the lawful child of old man Taine, though she may have
been his own all the same. She was an orphan—a foundling——”
“But all the reports I saw spoke of her only as “Miss Taine” or as “Dr.
Taine’s daughter.” I did not see a line about her being a foundling—not
a line! But are you sure?”
“Certain! Mrs. Taine, the second, who is childless, and has been the
doctor’s wife for as many years as the girl is old, told me the whole
story. I am surprised the scribblers did not get hold of it.”
“A foundling!” said Lady Clare to herself. She was, apparently, much
moved, and wished to detain Lamont with further questions, but he had
turned, saying he must not lose another moment, and was going rapidly
towards the saloon door.
Taking his arm she accompanied him, and asked in a whisper:
“And what is her name?”
“I call her ‘Kitty,’ which you will continue for my sake.”
“That is merely a pet name, then? But what was her real name?”
“Oh! that’s too ugly! Her mother, who drowned herself in a pond near the
Taine’s house, left a written request that she be called ‘Hagar,’ and so
she was named, to appease the ghost of the suicide. Take good care of
her—she is yours now, you know.”
As he said this carelessly, he went towards Hagar, who hastened out of
the group of talkers to meet him.
Madame Adamanti gasped the word “Hagar!” in a suffocated tone, and
almost swooned under a sudden pressure of emotion. But she rallied
herself sufficiently to bid them ‘good night,’ and when they had passed
into the hall, sank upon a sofa, calling somebody to bring her salts.
Dr. Cavin and several others hurried to her side, but just then all
present were alarmed by the sound of strange voices in the hall, and the
breathless announcement of “soldiers! soldiers!” by Jerry. Spencer threw
himself into a chair, exclaiming with saintly resignation.
“What next!”
But the rest of the company, including Lady Clare, who was supported by
the doctor, rushed into the hall where a most unexpected tableau was
presented. For a while there was considerable commotion. An officer in
uniform and a picket of six Union soldiers with fixed bayonets, stood
across the doorway, having entered when the bolts were drawn for Lamont
and his companion to depart.
“This is our man,” said the officer, pointing to Lamont, “Or will be,
when we put him through a little process of scouring. Beg pardon, Miss;
sorry to interrupt you so unceremoniously. But the Rev. Mr. Smiles,
alias Charles Lamont, alias ‘March,’ and so forth, is an enemy of the
Union, and a spy whom we shall be obliged to take care of. If you are
the young girl he carried away from Cleveland, as appears from your
pretty face and your modesty, you will hear something for your benefit
at the City Hall, I think. Permit me,” he said, as he locked a pair of
handcuffs to Lamont’s wrists.
The wily agent of the Confederacy smiled, though he felt that this would
be a most appropriate occasion for him to sink through the floor, and
out of sight forever. But he was partially consoled by the reflection
that no papers, which could be of service to the enemy, were on his
person; and the only eventuality which he really feared, was that the
wife who had trusted him so implicitly and whose confidence he had
rewarded by systematic and unblushing infidelity, would now discover
what a villain he was. Although he had grown callous to remorse, the
prospect of a punishment under the lash of her scorn and hate was not
without real terror for him. He tried to say something cheering to
Hagar, who clung wildly to him, before he was led away, but she was
completely overcome by the shock, and was carried into the drawing room
just in time to save her from falling unconscious on the floor.