THE POSSESSOR OF A MIGHTY SECRET
Captain Scoble rose from the divan in front of a berth where he had
remained while the mate was at his dinner, his face covered with his
hands, as though he were in a state of suffering, and walked toward
Mrs. Belgrave.
“Maud” said he, pausing with folded arms in front of her after he had
uttered her name.
They had been husband and wife for two years, and Louis was not
disposed to embarrass them with his presence, especially as he felt
that he could trust his mother to fight her own battle as far as their
personal relations was concerned. He retired from his position on the
divan at his mother’s side, and seated himself near the pantry, where
he could observe the operations of the steward. He did not intend
to leave the cabin even for a moment, and he was ready to interfere
whenever the comfort or the safety of his mother required.
Scoble had uttered the first name of Mrs. Belgrave as he had been
accustomed to address her in the past. He had done so in the most
impressive manner he could command, and the tone seemed to come up from
his boots, its lowness perhaps indicating the depth of his feeling. The
lady bestowed a single glance upon him, and then fixed her gaze on the
carpet, which had been a new one at no remote period, devoting her mind
to a study of the figures.
Probably the captain expected a reply from her. If he did he was
disappointed. The lady was no actress, and if she had gone on the
stage, which was an abomination to her, her face and form would have
been her only stock in trade. She said not a word, either with her
voice or her eyes.
“Maud, is it thus that we meet after a separation of two years?”
continued Scoble, his voice still coming from the vicinity of his boots.
She did not answer him: she did not even look at him.
“You are silent, Maud,” he proceeded, even more impressively than
before; and in the absence of any evidence to the contrary, his vanity
lead him to believe he had made a success of the first scene.
As she made no response, he seated himself at her side. Then he moved
up a little nearer to her, as doubtless he had done in earlier days.
The lady retreated to the farthest end of the divan. This movement did
not please the practised diplomate, and he rose from his seat, taking a
standing position in front of her. Louis was near enough to hear what
the captain said, and to see what both of them did; and the last action
on the part of his mother was particularly satisfactory to him.
“Won’t you speak to me, Maud?” asked Scoble in a tone disconsolate
enough to come from a graveyard.
“I have nothing to say,” she replied, bestowing upon him a glance as
blank as any coquette could have given in the practice of her art.
“You have nothing to say to me after a separation of two years, two
long years that seemed endless to me?” said the melancholy master of
the Maud.
“Nothing at all. I wish the separation had been fifty years longer,”
replied the lady in a tone that satisfied the son that all was going
well at the other end of the cabin.
“O Maud! Can it be you who speak to me in this cruel manner?”
“You can have no doubt that it is I. If you have, I add that I have
earnestly hoped I should never see your face again,” returned the lady,
with vim enough to satisfy the interested listener near the pantry.
“Am I so changed? Is my face odious to you now?” groaned the captain.
“Your face is the same; but you are all face: there is nothing of you
but face. There is nothing at all behind it. You are utterly hollow and
wicked.”
“O Maud! How can you be so cruel! Am I not your husband?”
“No!” she almost shouted, as she sprang from the divan, and stood in
front of him, looking him squarely in the eye this time.
“Did I not lead you to the holy altar in your own church? Were we not
made one by your own minister?” demanded Scoble, becoming even more
impressive as he proceeded.
“Never!” exclaimed Mrs. Belgrave in a loud and firm tone, such as Louis
had never heard her use before.
“Have you forgotten the scene in the church?” he asked in a low, solemn
tone.
“I have not forgotten it; for it was then that I was cheated, robbed
of my name, and led into a trap by a villain!” replied the lady. “The
marriage, as you call it, was a fraud, and long ago I ceased to regard
it as a marriage. It was a sacrilege, a profanation of the holy temple
in which the farce was acted.”
“Still, _you_ became my wife at that time,” added Scoble with a tinge
of triumph in his tone.
“I became your victim, not your wife!”
“We lived together as man and wife for over two years,” suggested the
captain, who was rapidly coming up from his boots, and abandoning his
graveyard elocution.
“I did not know you then. I do know you now; and there would be no
excuse for me before God or man if I recognized you as my husband. The
marriage was a fraud, and the law dissolved it from the beginning.”
“It would take something more than the law of that old porpoise you
call Uncle Moses to undo what was done according to the law of God and
man,” said Scoble with a heavy sneer.
“You were never my husband in reality, for you cheated me. You
pretended to be a person you were not.”
“I supposed the marriage was legal; and I certainly intended that it
should be so,” replied the captain, resuming his argumentative manner.
“Then you were an idiot!” exclaimed Mrs. Belgrave.
“I am no lawyer, as your son is, and the church pronounced us man and
wife,” retorted the captain with one of his heaviest sneers.
“If you are ignorant, I will enlighten you out of pity. The name of the
man I married was Wade Farrongate, as he gave it himself, as he was
known in the community, and as you will find it on the church register.
You are not that man.”
“I beg your pardon, Maud, I am that man,” persisted Scoble.
“It was a false name, and therefore the marriage was a fraud. I did
not consent to marry John Scoble, deserter from the British army, and
without consent there could be no marriage.”
“I see that old lobster has posted you thoroughly in your lesson,” said
the captain furiously.
“If necessary, I shall bring suit in the courts to have the marriage,
if there was any, annulled for fraud. You can defend yourself then,”
added Mrs. Belgrave more calmly.
“You know very well, Maud, that I am not at present in condition to
defend a suit in a New Jersey court,” said Scoble in a rather feeble
tone.
“Why not? You have money enough, since your uncle left you ten thousand
pounds. You could even sell your hotel if you came short.”
“You seem to know all about my affairs,” replied the captain, puzzled
at the knowledge of him the lady betrayed. “I have money enough; more
than you have now, Maud.”
“Then you can defend your rights, if you have any, in court.”
“Do not persist in misunderstanding me, Maud. You know very well I
cannot show myself on shore without being arrested; but I have never
been convicted of a crime.”
“The arrest usually precedes the conviction,” added Louis.
“I am not addressing my conversation to you, young man,” said Scoble
savagely.
“But I desire the assistance of my son in this matter, and if he cannot
speak, I have nothing more to say, Captain Scoble,” interposed Mrs.
Belgrave with freezing dignity.
“Do not call me Scoble, Maud; my name is Farrongate.”
“Do not stoop to a lie, even to defend a bad case, John Scoble, for
that is your name. Under that name you deserted from your regiment, and
under that name you were arrested for it. More than this, you told me
that was your real name.”
“No, Maud; you are mistaken.”
“I heard you say it,” protested Louis. “And your mate called you so a
dozen times before you noticed it.”
“We will not say anything more about the name at present, for it really
makes no difference what it is,” said Scoble, when the path in that
direction was blocked against him. “My only grief now is that you are
false to me, Maud.”
“I hope you will make the most of your only grief,” added the lady with
pointed sarcasm.
“Let us be friends, Maud; let us heal our differences.”
“We can only heal them when the leopard changes his skin, and the spots
cease to exist, which can never be in this world. You have proved to me
that you are a thief, a swindler, an embezzler, a highwayman; and these
are the differences between us. They cannot be healed, and we journey
in opposite directions.”
“Do not use such harsh terms, Maud, for I am not a bad man. I am as
good to-day as I ever was.”
“Then you have been a villain all the days of your life!”
“I do not belong to any church, but I think I am better than the
average of men,” added Scoble complacently.
“Then may God have mercy on the average of men!” exclaimed the lady,
lifting her hands towards heaven.
“You told me, my dear”--
“Silence, sir!” gasped the lady, as she started in the direction of the
stateroom.
“One moment, Maud,” pleaded the captain, following her.
“Wait a moment, mother,” interposed Louis, for he had a suspicion in
regard to the villain’s last point, and he was anxious to have him
state it.
“If you ever address another term of endearment to me, not even my son
shall call me back into your presence,” said Mrs. Belgrave, with an
intensified expression of scorn on her handsome face.
“You told me about a certain million of dollars left by your first
husband’s father”--
“By my husband’s father! I have had but one husband,” said she.
They talked for some time about the missing million; and it was plain
that Scoble had not heard that it had been recovered. He admitted that
he had heard of the lost treasure before he went to the Park to live,
and had followed up his inquiries while residing there.
“Now, madam, as neither your son nor you are disposed to treat me with
proper respect, I will say at once that I know just where that lost
million is located at this moment, and I can put my hand upon it at any
time,” continued Scoble, with a tremendous flourish, as though he held
the key to the situation, and all the obdurate woman and her son had to
do was to bend the knee to him.
“I am speaking to you now, madam. I have the power to put a million
of dollars into your family. Let us heal our differences, and the
first thing I will do after we are married again will be to put you
in possession of the money,” Scoble proceeded, though he seemed
to be somewhat disturbed by the coolness with which his important
announcement had been received.
“Do you think I would foster and cherish a villain, a swindler, a
highwayman, for all the millions in the world? No!”
Without another word she retreated to her stateroom. Louis told her to
lock the door, which she did.