THE SECRET MARRIAGE.
The day following the fire was gloomy; the smouldering pile of brick,
stone and charred timbers marked the work of the destroying element.
The immense factory was a ruin, and among the débris were seen the iron
frames of intricate machinery, whose busy hum had so long gladdened the
hearts of seven hundred operatives and their kindred. Many sad faces
gathered about the ruins, and with trembling voices asked: "What will
become of our wives and little ones?"
George Alden's act of heroism was the theme of general conversation,
and prayers for his recovery sprang spontaneously from the hearts of
men who had seldom prayed before. The newspapers were full of glowing
eulogiums of the brave fellow who lay in so critical a condition. His
spirit seemed undecided whether to remain in the bruised tenement or
wing its flight to another world, but two devoted women watched at his
bedside, and a skilful surgeon noted every movement of the patient,
who occasionally opened his eyes and stared unmeaningly about. No
intelligible words escaped his lips, for his mind wandered. But near the
hour of noon, he opened his eyes, exclaiming:
"Where is the key? Oh, how it burns! Tell Belle and Fannie I died doing
my duty," and, closing his eyes, was silent. Suddenly opening them
again, he looked about, as if in doubt of his whereabouts. When his gaze
became fixed on Belle and Fannie, for the first time since the disaster
he spoke coherently and said:
"God bless you both! where am I?"
"In your own bed, George. Do you feel better?" gently replied his sister.
"My poor back is broken. Did I--did I save them?"
"Yes, all escaped. Do you remember it?" said Fannie.
"Yes--yes, but never mind."
Raising his burned hand to Belle's, he said:
"You are _so_ kind to remain with me," then closed his eyes as if
exhausted. A spasmodic moan escaping him, he cried out:
"My back is broken! I shall be a cripple and a burden to my friends. Oh,
why did I escape?"
His two companions tried to calm him. As Dr. Briar entered the
apartment, George looked into his face and asked:
"Doctor, is my back broken?"
The kind-hearted physician did not reply, but soothed him with
encouraging words.
The ladies withdrawing, an examination by the physician and his
assistant revealed the fact that the poor sufferer's back was seriously
injured. Everything was done by the good doctor to make him comfortable,
and as the examination caused great suffering a sleeping potion was
given him, for a raging fever indicated danger. The two women entering
the room, to Belle's interrogations concerning her lover's injuries the
doctor replied that he hoped for the best.
Meanwhile other scenes were taking place in the community. Senator
Hamblin sat in his private room at his residence, looking haggard, and
seemingly in great trouble. He arose from his chair and began pacing the
apartment.
"Everything is against me," he said. "All my late investments have been
losses--and now comes this fire to wipe out over one hundred thousand
dollars of my property. Oh, what fools we were to hesitate about
renewing those policies! I can see nothing but financial ruin unless
I can extricate myself from the strait I am in. With my credit good,
I can raise plenty of money, but how can I repay it? Within the next
month I must borrow at least fifty thousand dollars. These losses almost
unman me. Had I kept out of politics, giving my exclusive attention to
business affairs, I should not have been in this predicament. What an
infernal fool I am to allow ambition to lead me to ruin!"
He placed his hands over his head as if to get rest, but apparently he
found none, for he continued:
"It seems like a dream, that George Alden entered the burning factory.
He is a brave fellow, and the physician says he cannot live--thank God!
but he is happier than I, for I am standing between _two_ fires--two
powers are pulling my conscience in opposite directions--one for Mannis
and his fortune, the other for George Alden and his honor. Pshaw! what
is honor? Will it buy bread? Will it obtain station and fame? Not a bit
of it. If Alden dies, Belle will be the wife of Walter Mannis, and I,
her father, will be saved. If he lives there is only one way to dispose
of him. By the way!--as Sargent is doctoring the books, why shouldn't he
make the deficit fifty thousand, which I need, instead of five thousand?
I might look over the securities and cash, stea--abstract that amount,
and give Sargent such good cause that he will have no excuse for going
back on me as he did once before. I'll go down to the bank at once."
On his way to the bank, the Senator met many persons who inquired about
the condition of Cashier Alden. To all inquiries he returned the same
answer:
"Poor fellow, I am afraid he cannot live."
Entering the bank, Sargent said to him:
"By present indications our cashier will step out without our aid, eh?"
"It does look so, but he is a brave fellow after all. What is the
latest, Sargent?"
"He awoke to consciousness at noon, complaining of his back, which Dr.
Briar, upon examination, found seriously injured, and says his case
is almost hopeless. He fears internal injuries, as Alden has a high
fever--everything pointing to danger."
"It is sad, but may be for the best," was the reply, as Senator Hamblin
entered his private office.
Greatly dejected and full of trouble, to him the future looked dark and
portentous. Gladly would he have allowed his daughter to act from the
dictation of her heart did he not think the fortune of Mannis would
extricate him from the dilemma.
Poor, foolish man, he little knew Mannis was as "deep in the mire as he
in the mud" of financial ruin.
When at first raising objections to Belle's forming an alliance with
Alden, he fairly hated the innocent cause of his ire, but gradually his
feelings underwent a change; his old affection for his child returning,
and the brave feat of the cashier touching his heart, he longed for a
way out of his trouble. Unable to entertain thoughts of bankruptcy, his
pride and fear of disgrace made him plot against the cashier.
The full significance of his political victory lost sight of, he could
not drive the one absorbing thought from his mind, namely, the marriage
of his daughter with Mannis; beside saving him, it could be easily
brought about were Alden disposed of.
For two days George Alden's life hung in the balance. Fannie and Belle
remained constantly at his bedside. On the morning of the third day,
Doctor Briar, after examining his patient, beckoned the two ladies to
follow him to an adjoining room.
"Ladies," he said, "it is my duty to inform you, you have a very sick
patient. Calm yourselves and do not give way to grief--but I fear he
cannot recover. He should be told his danger, and I think I can trust
you both to talk with him on this subject."
Belle drew a deep sigh, which found response in the heart of Fannie.
"Oh, save him, sir! if you can, for he is so dear to us. I cannot have
him die. He is too noble and good," impulsively spoke Belle.
"Whatever can be done to save his life we shall do. All the good people
of Cleverdale are praying for his recovery; let us hope their prayers
may be answered, but as his physician I cannot speak encouragingly. He
is a noble fellow, and I hope and pray it may be God's will to spare his
life."
Bravely the two women repressed their grief, for both saw the necessity
of great fortitude. The physician withdrew, and Belle and Fannie
re-entered the sick-room, when Alden opened his eyes and in a low tone
said:
"Belle, you look tired and anxious--are my injuries serious?"
"Yes, George, you are badly injured."
"Is there any possibility of my recovery?"
"We hope for the best, for oh! we could not spare you."
"By the anxiety on your faces, I feel my condition is very serious," he
said feebly. "Oh, Belle, I wish you were my wife."
A shadow of deep pain crossed his features.
"Would you be happier were I your wife?" Belle asked.
"Happier! If I am to die I should be resigned to go and wait with
outstretched arms for you to join me."
Belle, conversing with him a few moments longer, joined Fannie at
the window, the two whispered together, when Belle, returning to the
bedside, said:
"George, would you be entirely happy were I your wife?"
"Yes, I could even die happy, for I fear I am to live but a short time.
Your faces tell me I am fatally injured. But it would be too much
happiness to expect, to gaze upon you as my own wife."
Looking for a moment intently into his face, she gently raised his
burned hand with her own, and said:
"George, I will be your wife, though myself is all I have to give."
Bending over the pillow, she touched the parched lips with her own,
sealing her promise with a kiss.
"God bless you!" were all the words Alden uttered, as, closing his eyes,
he fell back exhausted.
Belle joined Fannie in an adjoining room; the latter said:
"Dear Belle, you are a precious girl--but what will your parents say?"
"Mamma will not object, and for the present Papa must not know of it. It
is all I can do for George."
She threw her arms about Fannie's neck, and a flood of tears followed.
Mrs. Hamblin came later, and to her daughter's appeal for consent to the
proposed marriage she yielded. She knew her husband would not approve
the arrangement, but acting upon her own convictions she could not
refuse.
None were present at the ceremony but Mrs. Hamblin, Fannie Alden, and
the clergyman, besides the strangely joined pair.
The sufferer had been awake a long time, his eyes beaming with pleasure
at the prospect of marriage with the girl he loved. The clergyman,
approaching the bedside, commenced the ceremony. The mother trembled,
and, turning to conceal her emotion, burst into tears at the moment the
clergyman finished the ceremony.
The husband looking into the face of his wife, his eyes filled with joy,
and he gasped:
"I--I--am so--so--happy!" and then lost consciousness.
Loving hands quickly applied restoratives, and in a few moments the
sufferer opened his eyes, and said:
"I thought I was married--but it was only a dream."
"It is not a dream, for I am your wife," said Belle.
"Mine, all mine at last," he said, and the invisible angels hovering
about his pillow recorded the nuptials in that book the entries in which
can never be altered for earthly and dishonest purposes.