PUZZLING QUESTIONS WHICH CANNOT BE ANSWERED AS YET.--A STEP TOWARD
RECONCILIATION.--REUNION OF A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP.--PIECES ALL COLLECTED
AND JOINED.--JOY OF JACK.--SOLEMN DEBATES OVER THE GREAT PUZZLE OF THE
PERIOD.--FRIENDLY CONFERENCES AND CONFIDENCES.--AN IMPORTANT
COMMUNICATION.
The night passed, and the morning came, and the impression of these
Recent events grew more and more vivid. The very circumstances under
which I found my Lady of the Ice were not such as are generally chosen
by the novelist for an encounter between the hero and heroine of his
novel. Of that I am well aware; but then I'm not a novelist, and I'm
not a hero, and the Lady of the Ice isn't a heroine--so what have you
got to say to that? The fact is, I'm talking about myself. I found
Marion running away, or trying to run away, with my intimate friend.
The elopement, however, did not come off. She was thrown into my way in
an amazing manner, and I identified her with my Lady, after whom I
longed and pined with a consuming passion. Did the discovery of the
Lady of the Ice under such circumstances change my affections? Not at
all. They only grew all the stronger. The Lady was the same as ever. I
had not loved Nora, but the Lady of the Ice; and now that I found out
who she was, I loved Marion. This happens to be the actual state of the
case; and, whether it is artistic or not, does not enter into my mind
for a single moment.
Having thus explained my feelings concerning Marion, it will easily be
seen that any resentment which I might have felt against Jack for
causing her grief, was more than counterbalanced by the prospect I now
had that she would give him up forever. Besides, our quarrel was on the
subject of Nora, and this had to be explained. Then, again, my duel was
on the _tapis_, and I wanted Jack for a second. I therefore determined
to hunt him up as soon as possible.
But in the course of the various meditations which had filled the hours
of the night, one thing puzzled me extremely, and that was the
pretension of Nora to be my Lady of the Ice. Why had she done so? Why
did Marion let her? Why did O'Halloran announce his own wife to me as
the lady whom I had saved? No doubt Nora and Marion had some reason.
But what, and why? And what motive had O'Halloran for deceiving me?
Clearly none. It was evident that he believed Nora to be the lady. It
was also evident that on the first night of the reading of the
advertisement, and nay story, he did not know that the companion of
that adventure of mine was a member of his family. The ladies knew it,
but he didn't. It was, therefore, a secret of theirs, which they were
keeping from him. But why? And what possible reason had Marion for
denying it, and Nora for coming forward and owning up to a false
character to O'Halloran?
All these were perplexing and utterly bewildering mysteries, of which.
I could make nothing.
At length I cut short the whole bother by going off to Jack's.
He was just finishing his breakfast.
The moment he saw me, he started to his feet, and gave a spring toward
me. Then he grasped my hand in both of his, while his face grew radiant
with delight.
"Macrorie! old boy!" he cried. "What a perfect trump! I'll be hanged if
I wasn't going straight over to you! Couldn't stand this sort of thing
any longer.--What's the use of all this beastly row? I haven't had a
moment's peace since it begun. Yes, Macrorie," he continued, wringing
my hand hard, "I'll be hanged if I wouldn't give up every one of the
women--I was just thinking that I'd give them all for a sight of your
old face again--except, perhaps, poor little Louie--" he added. "But,
come, sit down, load up, and fumigate."
And he brought out all his pipes, and drew up all his chairs, and
showed such unfeigned delight at seeing me, that all my old feelings of
friendship came back, and resumed their places.
"Well, old fellow," said I, "do you know in the first place--our row--
You know--"
"Oh, bother the row!"
"Well, it was all a mistake."
"A mistake?"
"Yes. We mistook the women."
"How's that? I'm in the dark."
"Why, there are two ladies at O'Halloran's."
"Two?"
"Yes, and they weren't introduced, and, as they're both young, I
thought they were both his daughters."
"Two women! and young? By Jove!" cried Jack--"and who's the other?"
"His wife!"
"His wife? and young?" The idea seemed to overwhelm Jack.
"Yes," said I, "his wife, and young, and beautiful as an angel."
"Young, and beautiful as an angel!" repeated Jack. "Good Lord,
Macrorie!"
"Well, you know, I thought his wife was Miss O'Halloran, and the other
Miss Marion."
"What's that? his wife? You thought she was Miss O'Halloran?"
"Yes, and the one I saved on the ice, you know--"
"Well, all I can say is, old fellow, I'm confoundedly sorry for your
sake that she's a married woman. That rather knocks your little game.
At the same time it's a very queer thing that I didn't know any thing
about it. Still, I wasn't at the house much, and Mrs. O'Halloran might
have been out of town. I didn't know any thing about their family
affairs, and never heard them mentioned. I thought there was only a
daughter in the family. Never dreamed of there being a wife."
"Well, there is a wife--a Mrs. O'Halloran--so young and beautiful that
I took her for the old man's daughter; and Jack, my boy, I'm in a
scrape."
"A scrape?"
"Yes--a duel. Will you be my second?"
"A duel!" cried Jack, and gave a long whistle.
"Fact," said I, "and it all arose out of my mistaking a man's wife for
His daughter."
"Mistaking her?" cried Jack, with a roar of laughter. "So you did. Oh,
Macrorie! how awfully spooney you were about her, you know--ready to
fight with your best friend about her, and all that, you know. And how
did it go on? What happened? Come, now, don't do the reticent. Out with
it, man. Every bit of it. A duel! And about a man's wife! Good Lord
Macrorie, you'll have to leave the regiment. An affair like this will
rouse the whole town. These infernal newspapers will give exaggerated
accounts of every thing, you know. And then you'll get it. By Jove,
Macrorie, I begin to think your scrape is worse than mine."
"By-the-way, Jack, how are you doing?"
"Confound it man, what do you take me for? Do you think I'm a stalk or
a stone. No, by Jove, I'm a man, and I'm crazy to hear about your
affair. What happened? What did you do? What did you say? Something
must have taken place, you know. You must have been awfully sweet on
her. By Jove! And did the old fellow see you at it? Did he notice any
thing? A duel! Something must have happened. Oh, by Jove! don't I know
the old rascal! Not boisterous, not noisy, but keen, sir, as a razor,
and every word a dagger. The most savage, cynical, cutting, insulting
old scoundrel of an Irishman that I ever met with. By Heaven, Macrorie,
I'd like to be principal in the duel instead of second. By Jove, how
that old villain did walk into me that last time I called there!
"Well, you see," I began, "when I went to his house he introduced _me_,
And didn't introduce _her_."
"Yes."
"Well, I talked with her several times, but for various reasons,
unnecessary to state, I never mentioned her name. I just chatted with
her, you know, the way a fellow generally does."
"Was the old fellow by?"
"Oh, yes, but you know yesterday I went there and found her alone."
"Well?"
"Well--you know--you were so determined at the time of our row, that I
resolved to be beforehand, so I at once made a rush for the prize, and
--and--"
"And, what?"
"Why--did the spooney--you know--told her my feelings--and all that
sort of thing, you know."
I then went on and gave Jack a full account of that memorable scene,
The embarrassment of Nora, and the arrival of O'Halloran, together with
our evening afterward, and the challenge.
To all this Jack listened with intense eagerness, and occasional bursts
Of uncontrollable laughter.
I concluded my narrative with my departure from the house. Of my
return, my wanderings with Marion, my sight of him at Berton's, and all
those other circumstances, I did not say a word. Those things were not
the sort that I chose to reveal to anybody, much less to Jack.
Suddenly, and in the midst of his laughter and nonsense, Jack's face
changed. He grew serious. He thrust his hand in his pocket with
something like consternation, and then drew forth--