THE VILLAIN AND HIS VICTIM.
It was certainly something entirely out of the experience of the old
innkeeper at the country crossroads to be aroused from his slumbers at
midnight by guests seeking the shelter of his hospitable roof, and that,
too, on the most terrible night of the year.
The old man could scarcely believe his ears when he heard the sound of
the old brass knocker on the front door resound loudly through the
house.
He quite imagined that he must have dreamed it, until a second and third
peal brought him to his senses and his feet at the same instant.
His bewilderment knew no bounds when he appeared at the door a few
minutes later and found a coach standing there and the occupants seeking
a lodging, also shelter for the horses.
"I haven't but one room to spare," exclaimed the old innkeeper, holding
a flaring candle high above his head to better view his visitor.
"Have you a room in which a fire could be made?" asked one of the men.
"We have a lady with us."
"I suppose we could let you have my daughter Betsy's, she being off to
the city on a visit."
"My companion and his br--his wife could have that; you can dispose of
me anywhere," returned the speaker. "I could doze in a chair in the
barroom for that matter. The driver could be as easily disposed of."
"Then bring the lady right in," said the old innkeeper. A moment later,
the lovely girl, still unconscious, was brought in and laid upon the
settee in the best room.
"What is the matter with the young woman?" gasped the innkeeper, his
eyes opening wide with amazement.
"Merely fainted from the intense cold," returned one of the men briefly,
adding: "If you will see that a fire is lighted in the room that you
spoke of I shall be very much obliged."
"I'll have my wife down in a jiffy. No doubt the poor creature's half
frozen, but a hot whiskey toddy will thaw her out quicker than you could
say Jack Robinson," and he trotted off briskly on his double mission of
rousing his wife to look after the girl and his hired help to assist the
driver in putting away the horses, while he himself attended to making a
blazing fire in the little chamber over the best room.
In less time than it takes to tell it the good housewife was by the
girl's side.
"What a beautiful young creature!" she exclaimed, as the veil was
thrown back and she beheld the lovely face, white as chiseled marble,
framed in its cloud of golden hair. "Is it your sister, sir?" she asked,
with all a country woman's thoughtless curiosity.
"No, she is my wife," exclaimed the stranger, who stood over by the
fireplace, his brows meeting in a decided frown.
"Laws a mercy! Isn't she young to be married?" exclaimed the woman.
"Why, she don't look sixteen. Been married long?"
The stranger by the fireplace deliberately turned his back on the woman,
vouchsafing her no reply.
By that time the innkeeper announced that the room above was ready, and
that they might come up as soon as they liked.
Again the stranger by the fireplace lifted the slender figure, bore her
up the narrow rickety stairway, saying good-night to his friend as he
passed him by.
"Good-night to you, and pleasant dreams," replied Halloran; "the same to
your wife."
The innkeeper followed the tall stranger with his burden to see that
everything was made comfortable, put more logs in the fireplace, then
turning, said:
"Is there anything else I can do for you, stranger?"
"Nothing," replied the man curtly, but as the old innkeeper reached the
door he called sharply: "Yes, I think there is something else that would
add to my comfort, and that is a good stiff glass of brandy, if you have
such a thing about the place."
The old man hesitated.
"I'll pay well for it," said the other, eagerly.
"You see, we haven't a license, stranger, to sell drinks, and they're
pretty strict with us hereabouts. I generally let a man have it when I
know him pretty well, but I can't say how it would affect you."
"Have no fear on that score," returned the other. "Here's a five-dollar
note for a pint bottle of brandy. Will that pay you?"
"Yes," returned the innkeeper. It was the golden key. The man laughed to
see how quickly he trotted off on his errand, returning with the bottle
in a trice.
"Anything else, sir?" he said.
"No," replied the other, "save," adding, "do not call us too early
to-morrow. We're not of the kind that rise with the sun. Nine o'clock
will answer. And see that that wife of yours gets up the best breakfast
that can be obtained."
"You won't have to complain of that, sir," exclaimed the innkeeper,
pompously. "You'll get a piece of steak with the blood followin' the
knife; crisp potatoes, a plate of buckwheat cakes, with butter as is
butter, and honey that's the real thing; a mug of coffee that would bear
up an egg, with good old-fashioned cream, not skim milk, to say nothing
of--"
"That will do," exclaimed the stranger, with an impatient wave of his
white hand. "I never like to know beforehand what I'm going to get."
"But the lady, sir? Mebbe she'd like somethin' kind a delicate like--a
bit o' bird or somethin' like that?"
"We'll see about that to-morrow all in good time," fairly closing the
door in the garrulous innkeeper's face "Good-night," and he shut the
door with a click and turned the key in the lock, and for the first time
he was alone with the girl he had forced so dastardly into the cruellest
of marriages. He had placed Faynie on the white couch. He crossed the
room and stood looking down at her, with his hands behind his back, and
a sardonic smile on his face.
"You and your millions of money belong to me," he cried, under his
breath. "Ye gods! what a lucky dog I am after all!" and a low laugh that
was not pleasant to hear broke from his lips.
At that instant a broken sigh stirred the girl's white lips.
"Ah, you are coming to, are you?" he muttered. "The old lady's toddy is
beginning to revive you."
He could not help but notice how unusually beautiful the girl was.
"What a chance of fortune this is for me, but it does not follow, even
though she was madly in love with my cousin, that she will hold me in
the same favor. But I'll stand none of her airs. I'll show her right
from the start that I'm the boss, and see how that will strike her
fancy. There'll be a terrible time when she comes to--screams, shrieks
of anger, that will call everybody to the door."
He turned on his heel and walked over to the mantel, where the innkeeper
had deposited the bottle and the glass.
He poured out a heavy draught and drank it at a single swallow. This was
followed by another and yet another.
"Ah, there's nothing like bracing oneself up for a scene like this," he
muttered, with a sardonic laugh.
The liquor seemed to turn the blood in his veins to fire and set his
heart in a glow. He laughed aloud. In that moment he felt as rich as a
king, and as diabolical as Satan himself.
He was nerved for any emergency; he was the girl's lord and master, her
wedded husband. She would be made to understand that fact with little
ceremony.
He threw himself down in a chair, where he could watch her, and waited
results, and each instant he sat there the fumes of the brandy rose
higher and higher, until it reached his brain.
"There was a laughing devil in his sneer
That woke emotions of both hate and fear;
And where his scowl of fierceness darkly fell,
Hope, withering, fled and mercy sighed farewell."
Yes, a few short moments and consciousness would return to the girl--the
stormy scene would begin.
Would the sharp eyes of love detect the difference between himself and
Lester Armstrong, whom he was impersonating? He knew every tone of his
cousin's voice so perfectly that he would have little difficulty in
imitating that. The more closely he watched the girl, the more conscious
he became of her wonderful beauty, and his heart gave a bound of
triumph.
It was worth a struggle, after all, to have as beautiful a bride as she,
even though she hated him.
"If I watch her much longer it will end by my being madly in love with
her," he mused. "I never could withstand a pretty face."
The wild winds moaned like demons outside. The bare branches writhed and
twisted in the storm, tapping weirdly against the window pane. The room
grew warmer as the fire took hold of the logs in the grate, and with
the heat the fumes of the brandy rose into his brain, and with it his
color heightened, his cheeks and lips were flushed and his eyes
scintillating. With unsteady hand he reached out for the flask again,
uncorked it, and without taking the trouble to reach for the glass,
placed the bottle to his lips and drained it to the dregs.
"She is awaking," he muttered, with a maudlin laugh, and springing from
his seat with unsteady steps, he crossed the room and stood by the
couch, looking down eagerly into the beautiful white face upon the
pillow. As if impelled by that steady, serpentine, fiery glance, the
girl moaned uneasily.
"Awaking at last!" he muttered, with a diabolical smile. At that moment
Faynie's violet eyes opened wide and stared up into his face.