"Yes, I did. There was a lady and a child, nearly the last on the
boat. John Murphy drove them away."
"Where can I find John Murphy?" eagerly enquired Mr. Lane.
"He's probably on the stand."
"Drive me there if you please." And he sprang into the carriage.
In a few minutes they were at a carriage stand; and Mr. Lane heard
the driver call out, as he reined up his horses--"Hallo! there, John
Murphy! here's a gentleman who wants to see you."
The person addressed came up as Mr. Lane descended from the
carriage.
"I understand," said Lane, "that you received a lady and child in
your carriage, last night, from the New York line. Where did you
take them?"
"Who said that I did?" boldly inquired the man addressed.
"I said so!" as firmly replied the driver who had given the
information to Mr. Lane. "What interest have you in denying it?"
Murphy evinced some surprise at this, and looked a little dashed,
but repeated his denial.
A new fear instantly seized Mr. Lane. His wife might have been
entrapped into some den of infamy, through means of the driver she
had employed to convey her to an hotel. The thought affected him
like an electric shock.
"You are certain of what you say?" asked Mr. Lane, turning to the
hackman he had employed.
"Certain," was answered positively.
"Is there a police officer near at hand?" was the next inquiry. This
was intended as no threat; and Murphy understood its meaning.
The eyes of Mr. Lane were fixed on his face, and he saw in it a
guilty change. No reply being made to the question about a police
officer, Mr. Lane said, addressing the accused hackman--
"If you wish to escape trouble, take me instantly to the house where
I can find the lady you took from the boat last night. She is my
wife, and I will go through fire and water to find her; and let him
who stands in my way take the consequences."
Murphy now drew Mr. Lane aside, and said a few words to him
hurriedly.
"Can I depend upon what you say?" eagerly asked the latter.
"Yes, upon honour!" replied the hackman.
"You must go with me," said Lane.
"I cannot leave the stand."
"I will call a policeman and compel you to go with me, if you don't
accompany me peaceably. As I live, I will not part from you until I
find her! Take your choice--go quietly, or under compulsion."
There was a fierce energy in the excited man that completely subdued
the Irish hackman, who, after a further, though feeble remonstrance,
got into the carriage with Mr. Lane, and was driven off. The course
taken was out--street. Some distance beyond Washington Square, the
carriage stopped before a house, in which Mr. Lane was informed that
he would find the woman whom Murphy had taken from the boat the
night before. He stepped out quickly, and, as he sprang across the
pavement, Murphy, who was out of the carriage almost as soon as he
was, glided around the corner of a street, and was beyond recall. A
quick jerk of the bell was answered by a female servant, who held
the door only partly open, while Lane addressed her.
"Wasn't there a woman and child brought here last night?" said he,
in an agitated manner.
"No, sir," replied the girl; and, as she spoke, she made an attempt
to close the door, seeing which, Mr. Lane thrust a part of his body
in and prevented the movement.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
"I am," was positively answered, while the girl strove to shut the
door by forcing it against Mr. Lane. At this moment something like a
smothered cry from within reached his ears, when, throwing open the
door with a sudden application of strength that prostrated the girl,
he stepped over her body and entered the vestibule. Just then there
arose a wild cry for help! He knew the voice; it came from one of
the parlours, into which he rushed. There he saw his wife struggling
in the arms of a woman and a man, while his frightened child stood
near, white and speechless with terror. As he entered, Amanda saw
him.
"Oh, my husband!" she exclaimed. In a moment she was released, and
the man and woman fled from the room, but not before the face of the
former was fully recognised by Mr. Lane.
Little Mary had already sprung to her father, and was quivering and
panting on his breast.
"Oh! take me away quickly--quickly!" cried Mrs. Lane, staggering
towards her husband and falling into his arms.
Without waiting for explanations, Mr. Lane went from the house with
his wife and child, and, placing them in the carriage at the door,
was driven to an hotel.
The reader doubtless understands the scene we have just described.
The man named Bond was in the act of carrying out his threat to
remove Mrs. Lane to a chamber by force when her husband appeared.
Of all that passed between the severely-tried husband and wife after
their meeting, it behooves us not to write. The circumstances we
have detailed were exceedingly painful to the parties most
interested; but their effect, like the surgeon's knife, was
salutary. Mr. Lane afterwards regarded his wife from an entirely
different point of view, and found her a very different woman from
what he had at first believed her to be. He saw in her a strength of
character and a clearness of intellect for which he had never given
her credit; and, from looking down upon her as a child or an
inferior, came to feel towards her as an equal.
His indignation at the treatment she had received in Philadelphia
was extreme. The man named Bond he knew very well, and he at first
determined to call him to account personally; but as this would lead
to a mortifying notoriety and exposure of the whole affair, he was
reluctantly induced to keep silence. Bond has never crossed his way
since: it might not be well for him to do so.
Some years have passed. No one who meets Mr. and Mrs. Lane, at home
or abroad, would dream that, at one time, they were driven asunder
by a strong repulsion. Few are more deeply attached, or happier in
their domestic relations; but neither trespasses on the other's
rights, nor interferes with the other's prerogative. Mutual
deference, confidence, respect, and love, unite them with a bond
that cannot again be broken.