AT THE LAST.
The sound of that hoarse, piercing, awful cry echoed and re-echoed to
every portion of the house, and in less time than it takes to relate it,
the servants in a body, headed by Mrs. Fairfax and Claire, were rushing
toward the library, from whence the sound proceeded.
One glance as they reached the open doorways, and a cry of consternation
broke from Mrs. Fairfax's lips, which was faintly echoed by her daughter
Claire.
The servants were too astounded at the sight that met their gaze to
believe the evidence of their own eyes.
Mrs. Fairfax was the first to recover herself.
"What is the meaning of this!" she exclaimed, striding forward and
facing Faynie and the horror-stricken man who stood facing her, his
teeth chattering, as he muttered:
"It is her ghost!--her ghost!"
"Faynie Fairfax, why do I find you here, in the library, in the dead of
the night, in the company of the man who is to wed my daughter Claire,
and who parted from her scarcely two hours since, supposedly to leave
the house? Why are you two here together! Explain this most
extraordinary and most atrocious scene at once. I command you!" she
cried, her voice rising to a shrill scream in her rising anger.
Faynie turned a face toward her white as a marble statue, but no word
broke from her lips.
The presence of the others seemed to bring Kendale back to his senses.
"It means," spoke Faynie, after a full moment's pause, "that the hour
has come in which I must confess to all gathered here the pitiful story
I have to tell, and which will explain what has long been an unsolved
mystery to you--where, how and with whom I spent the time from the hour
in which I left this roof until I returned to it.
"You say that this is the man who is your daughter's lover, Mrs.
Fairfax--the man who is soon to marry Claire.
"I declare that this marriage can never be, because this man has a
living wife," she cried, in a high, clear voice.
"It is false!" shrieked Kendale. "The girl I married in the old church
is dead--dead, I tell you. I--I saw her buried with my own eyes!"
"She is not dead, for I am that unfortunate girl," answered Faynie, in a
voice that trembled with agonized emotion.
"Listen all, while I tell my story," she sobbed. "Surely the saddest,
most pitiful story a young girl ever had to tell."
Then, in a panting voice, she told her horrified listeners all, from the
beginning to the very end, omitting not the slightest detail, dwelling
with a pathos that brought tears to every eye, of how she had loved him
up to the very hour he had come for her to elope with him; her horror
and fear of him growing more intense because of the marriage he forced
her into, with the concealed revolver pressed so close to her heart she
dared not disobey his slightest command.
And how the conviction grew upon her that he was marrying her for wealth
only, and the inspiration that came to her to test his so-called love by
telling him that she had been disinherited, though she was confident
that her father had made his will in her favor, leaving her his entire
fortune.
Dwelling with piteous sobs on how he had then and there struck her down
to death, as he supposed, and that he had made all haste to make away
with her; and that she would at that moment have been lying in an
unmarked grave, under the snowdrifts, if Heaven had not most
miraculously interfered and saved her.
Faynie ended her thrilling recital by adding that she had not known,
until that hour, that this man was Claire's lover, because they had
refrained from mentioning the name of the man in her presence. How she
had come to the library in search of a book and had encountered him
stealing through the halls, a veritable thief in the dead of the night,
bent upon securing a sum of money which he had learned in some way was
in the safe, and that he now had it in his pocket, and that she had
prevented him from securing her father's will by snatching it from his
grasp.
Mrs. Fairfax had fallen back, trembling like an aspen leaf. She
recognized her husband's will in Faynie's hands, and that, although the
girl did not say so before the servants, she knew her treachery.
"Come, Claire, my child," she said, turning to her daughter, "this is no
place for you."
But Claire did not stir; she stood quite still, looking from the one to
the other, as though she could not fully comprehend all that she saw and
heard.
By this time Kendale had recovered from his shock, and as he listened to
Faynie's recital, realized that she was not indeed a ghost, but the
heiress of the Fairfax millions, and his own wife at that. And when he
found his voice he cried out:
"The girl tells the truth! She is mine, and as her husband I am lord and
master of this house, and of her."
As he uttered the words he strode toward Faynie with a diabolical
chuckle, and seized her slender wrists in his grasp.
"Unhand me!" shrieked Faynie, struggling frantically in his grasp,
almost fainting with terror.
"No one dares interfere between man and wife," replied Kendale,
mockingly.
He did not see three dark forms spring over the threshold, thrusting the
servants hastily aside.
But in less time than it takes to tell it, a strong arm thrust him
aside, and a tall form sprang between him and Faynie, while a voice that
struck terror to his very soul cried out:
"You have come to the end of your rope, Clinton Kendale. You have lost
the game, while it was almost in your grasp!"
"Great Heaven, is it you, Lester Armstrong!" cried the guilty villain,
fairly quivering with terror. "Oh, Lester, have pity--have mercy--I--"
"You shall have the same quality of mercy dealt out to you that you have
meted out to others!" replied Lester, sternly.
Suddenly Kendale wrenched himself free from his grasp, crying out,
hoarsely and triumphantly:
"I am game yet. I have married the girl you love. She is my lawfully
wedded wife. I have lost the Marsh millions, but you are checkmated,
Lester Armstrong. I have the Fairfax fortune, and your Faynie!"
"Don't delude yourself into believing so prettily an arranged scheme,"
exclaimed a voice from the doorway, and a woman whom Kendale had not
noticed among the crowd before glided hastily forward, threw back her
veil, confronting the villain.
"Gertrude!" he cried aghast, staggering back.
"Yes, Gertrude, your wife," she replied. "Your wife, though you tried
hard to induce me to go to Dakota and secure a divorce from you. I had
instituted it and would soon have obtained it had I not read in the
papers of the great fortune you had fallen into, for you had told me
your cousin Lester Armstrong was dead, and you were to take his name and
place as assistant cashier--no one knowing of his death, and you could
easily pass yourself off for him owing to your wonderful resemblance to
each other.
"For my sake," she added, "Mr. Armstrong has promised to let you go
free, providing you go with me."
"It is false!" shouted Kendale. "All you say is a lie, woman!"
"The man who accompanied us to the altar a year ago is here," he said.
"He has with him my marriage certificate," pointing toward some one on
the threshold, adding, "come forward, please."
And Halloran, who had left a sickbed to accompany her, came slowly
forward.
"So you are against me, too!" cried Kendale. "Then all is up, indeed. I
acknowledge that all that has been said is true. I had a few weeks of a
gay, merry life, and I'm not sorry, either. Come, Gertrude!"
And without a backward glance they slowly left the Fairfax mansion.
The reuniting of Faynie and her lover was extremely affecting, and
within an hour a minister was called in who made them one forevermore.
Mrs. Fairfax and her daughter were offered a home for life, but they
chose to leave the following day. Faynie and Lester had gone through
many thrilling experiences, but were happily reunited--at last.
THE END.
No. 1113 of THE NEW EAGLE SERIES, entitled "In Love's Name," by Emma
Garrison Jones, is a story that tells of a romance that, after many
sufferings, ends in a happy marriage feast.
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