A BOLD PLOT.
"June, can you tell me where Irene has gone?" said Scott the next
evening, as he entered the family sitting-room.
"No," June replied, "she told me she was obliged to go and see a
friend, and would not be home until quite late."
"Was she dressed as though going to a party?"
"Oh, no; she wore a very dark suit and the plainest hat she has."
"It is strange," Scott said, as he seated himself in an easy-chair.
"Do you think she went unattended?"
"I am quite sure she did," June said, noticing the troubled look on
Scott's face, and then seating herself close beside him, and leaning
on the cushioned arm of his chair, she said:
"Scott, how weary and troubled you look! Please tell me what makes
you."
"Do I look troubled? Well, I have a very perplexing case on hand, and
I am bound to see justice done to the party who is deserving,
whichever one it is."
"Oh, but you must remember you are a lawyer, and you must win whatever
side you take."
"If I find I am wrong, I would rather fail than win."
"Then is that all that troubles you?"
"Oh, no," Scott answered with a smile. "There was a very important
case came before me to-day--or, let me see--I guess it was yesterday.
A very much love-smitten youth by the name of Jones interviewed me for
the purpose of speaking to me of my sister June."
"Oh, dear! Henry Jones! I sent him a note only a week ago, refusing
his attentions."
"He is quite persistent."
"I think he is; but is that all that troubles you? Tell me, truly,
Scott, are you not troubled about Rene?"
"Never mind, June; we will not talk about her. I think she will return
soon."
"Certainly; she has not gone to stay."
Scott looked about the richly furnished room and wondered why his wife
could not find enough of happiness in her own beautiful home, without
seeking it abroad, as she seemed of late to do.
"June, go find Paul, please, and tell him to bring 'Bitter Sweet' and
read to me."
"That will be delightful. I love to hear him read better than any
person I ever listened to," June said, as she went in search of Paul.
"I never have any trouble finding him," she said, as she returned;
"for if he is not in the library he is in his own room, and I found
him working away with his pen as though his living depended upon it."
"I am afraid it would be a poor living that I would gain from that,"
said Paul, as he took a seat by the table.
The time passed much quicker to Scott than he had imagined, for the
clear, rich tones and the perfect elocution of the boy's reading
served in a measure to carry his mind away to the scenes portrayed in
the poem, and ere he was aware the time came for Paul to prepare to
attend to the transaction of the business which Scott had spoken of
the evening previous. Scott having some letters and manuscripts of
importance to examine, went to his room to attend to the work, saying
that he wished to retire as early as possible, as he was very much in
need of rest, and cautioning Paul to go out well protected against the
weather, for it was growing very cold.
The clouds were hanging darkly overhead, and by the time that Paul had
finished his errand an intense darkness covered the city. The clouds
had begun to throw out a snowflake here and there, and the driving
wind from the river kept up a furious howl. Paul was passing an old
shed that stood in a woodyard, when he thought he saw a dark figure
glide along and crouch under its roof. His curiosity was aroused, as
no one, he thought, would be in such a place at such an hour of the
night unless bent on mischief. Paul walked on as though he had not
noticed the figure, and stole slyly around to the back of the old
building, coming so close to the figure that only the boards separated
the two. It was so dark that Paul had no fear of detection, so he
stood there awaiting further developments. A half hour passed when
the man, muttering, as though speaking to himself, said:
"She's a devilish long time getting here."
At that moment another person entered the old building. Paul could not
see the face, but the sound of the voice caused his heart to beat
wildly. It was a woman's voice, and one strangely familiar. He pressed
his hand above his heart to still its wild throbbing, and in
breathless silence listened to the words which followed, placing his
ear close to a crevice in the partition.
"You were a devilish long while getting here," said the man. "Why
don't you keep a fellow standing here all night? Who do you think
wants to freeze?"
"Well, you need not be so cross, Mr. Crisp. You are rightly named, any
way. I came as soon as I could; of course I had to be cautious; you
must know that."
"Where is your husband?"
"At home, asleep, I suppose."
"Devilish fool! He had better be looking after his wife."
"Oh, I do not think he suspects."
"Good thing for you."
"And a good thing for you, too."
"Well, hand over the money!"
"I have none to-night. I was obliged to use all I had for other
purposes, and my allowance is gone."
"Gone! Don't your father keep you in change?"
"Yes, but----"
"But what?"
"I let the colonel have my last installment. The poor fellow got into
trouble, and I had to help him out."
"A pretty piece of business! I guess you had better look out for your
own people first, if you know what is good for you. Remember, if you
don't come to time you know what will happen. You understand, don't
you?"
"Of course; but I see no way but for you to wait until I get my next
installment. You know I can't get the money until then."
"The deuce! Do you think I am going to wait that long? Go to your
husband! You married him to get the use of his money; you know you
did."
"Yes; but I cannot go to him for that amount."
"You must! What do you think I'm going to do your thieving work for if
I don't get pay for it? Send Brunswick to the devil. I've got into a
scrape, too, that nothing but money will get me out of, and you must
get it, or by Heaven, I'll tell your husband all--even about the
will."
"Crisp, don't you dare to tell him that."
"What don't I dare do?"
"Anything, I guess; but I don't see how I can do anything for you
now."
"I won't wait, and that is all there is about it. I must have the
money to-morrow. If you can't do it one way, you must another."
"What can I do?"
"I'll contrive a plan for you."
"What?"
"Go to your husband's purse and get the money for me."
"I can't do it, for if he should find me out it would ruin all my
plans. You know I have twice taken money for you, and if he should
miss it again, he would investigate until every one in the house was
brought before him. He is more cunning than you can imagine."
"Then drug him, and I'll do the work if you will find a way for me to
get in."
"He is a good man; you must not harm him."
"Well, you trust to me! Oh, you need not go to putting on any of your
airs. What would you be if you hadn't money? And how would you have
gotten the money if it hadn't been for old----"
"Hush! Don't you breathe it."
"Well, then, don't forget what you owe old Meg. You know what you
promised. I've got the will right here, and when you get the money you
can have it."
"Hark! Some one will hear you! You promised my father something long
ago, and you never have done it yet."
"Well, now, see here, Rene, if you will find a way for me to put my
hands on two hundred to-morrow night--no, that would not do. I must
have it to-morrow, and to-night is the last chance. If you will
arrange for me to find it I will fix the business up for you right
away."
"I'll do my best. You will find the amount in my husband's drawer
in the right hand corner of a little private secretary in his
sleeping-room. He always keeps his spare change there. Come at two
to-night, and I will see that everything is ready for you; but Crisp,
I wanted to ask you if you have the girl now."
"No; she ran away one night in a thunderstorm, and we hain't found her
yet."
"That is fine! Suppose something should happen that some one should
find her!"
"Oh, how the deuce is anyone going to find it out? There ain't the
least thing to go by. Why, she may be dead before this time."
"Yes, she may be, but it is not very likely that she is."
Paul grew almost faint. He knew that the woman's voice was that of
Scott's wife. He was sure of it. And the man had called her Rene. But
why was she there at that late hour conversing in such a place with
such a man? Oh, how Paul's heart ached for good, generous, noble, much
wronged Scott Wilmer! He hoped Scott would never know of his wife's
treachery. He had learned now from her own lips that she had not
married Scott for love, but for wealth and a position in society. How
could Irene help seeing what a prize she had won in such a man!
"Now, don't you forget what you are about," said Crisp, for he it was
who had been holding the conversation with Scott's wife.
"No," she answered, folding her dark wrap close about her. "I am
nearly frozen, and I must get home."
She left the place, and ere long was followed by Crisp, who, when he
reached the walk, went in an opposite direction. Paul waited until the
two had gone far enough that they could not hear his footsteps. He
followed Irene, however, keeping well in the rear. He wished to be
certain that he had not been deceived, so he kept up his watch until
he saw her enter the great hall door.
After remaining long enough outside so not to arouse her suspicions he
entered the house, going directly to his room.
He would bear any pain rather than see Scott's suffering, should the
truth be revealed, so whatever he planned must be done without help
and without his employer's knowledge. He knew the exact hour when the
villain would make his appearance and he waited patiently for the time
to come. The door of his room, which opened into Scott's, he left
lightly ajar, that he might watch every movement, for he knew that
Crisp would enter from the hall. Irene had gone to her own room. The
inmates of the house were all asleep except Paul and Irene, both
waiting and watching with feverish anxiety. With cautious step Irene
glided down the softly carpeted stairs, and turned the lock in the
great heavy door; then returned to her room to wait for the villain
who was to take her husband's money, and perhaps his life. A stealthy
footstep soon fell upon the hall floor, and a man stealing along with
catlike motions pushed the door carefully open and entered Scott's
room. He stopped for a moment under the dim gaslight which fell upon
his hideous features, and, looking about the room, gave one long
stride and reached the money drawer. Paul's heart throbbed wildly. He
knew there was no time to be lost. Should he take the villain's life?
He knew he deserved it, but could he do the deed? Yes, rather than
that Scott should suffer, he could. There was a slight movement of the
bedclothes, and, with the look of a demon resting on his face, Crisp
drew a long knife from his pocket and raised his hand to strike. Quick
as the lightning's flash Paul raised his pistol, and with steady aim
fired. The ball struck the villain's arm and he fled like a wounded
deer, screaming with pain. Paul stooped and picked up the knife and a
paper which the wounded man had dropped, and placed them in his
pocket. Scott raised his head just as Crisp was leaving the door. Mrs.
Wilmer entered the room, pale and trembling, and, sinking into a
chair, asked:
"Oh, Scott, are you killed?"
"No one is harmed but a burglar," Paul answered, calmly, "and he is
only wounded. I just caught sight of him in the act of drawing a knife
over Mr. Wilmer's head. I expect he was looking for money, as his
first attempt was in that direction, but when he saw Mr. Wilmer move
he thought best to quiet him, so I judge by his actions. I did not
intend to kill him, but I guess he has learned a lesson which he will
not soon forget."
The next day the sole topic of conversation throughout the house was
the heroic action of Paul, who had saved its inmates from a terrible
sorrow, and not one could find words to express their deep gratitude
unless it might have been Irene. She tried hard to join the rest in
praising Paul, but he knew that in her heart she was laying up curses
against him, though he did not know just how deeply she had planned to
ruin him.
[Illustration: "O, Scott! Are you killed?"]