"I know that the proposal is a very extraordinary one," he went on, his
voice trembling in deep earnestness, "but I make it to you in
desperation. By my own ill-advised action and interference, Beryl, my
only child, is dying, and I am determined, if possible, to bring peace
to her poor unbalanced mind in these the last hours of her existence.
My remorse is bitter, God knows! It is little that I can do in the way
of atonement, save to convince her of my forgiveness."
His face, as he bent forward to me at that moment, came, for the first
time, within the broad bar of sunlight that fell between us, and I saw
how white and haggard it was. The countenance was no longer that of a
haughty man, but of one rendered desperate.
"I fear that in this matter it is beyond my power to assist you," I
said, stirring myself at last. Truth to tell, his proposal was so
staggering that I inclined to the belief that he himself was not quite
right in his mind. The curious light in his eyes strengthened this
suspicion.
"You will not help me?" he cried starting up.
"You will not assist in bringing happiness to my poor girl in her dying
hour?"
"I will be no party to such a flagrant fraud as you propose," I
responded quietly.
"The sum insufficient--eh! Well, I'll double it. Let us say twenty
thousand."
"And the marriage you suggest is, I presume, to be a mock one?"
"A mock one? No, a real and binding one--entirely legal," he responded.
"A marriage in church."
"Would not a mock one be just as effective in the mind of the
unfortunate young lady?" I suggested.
"No, there are reasons why a legal marriage should take place," he
answered distinctly.
"And they are?"
"Ah! upon that point I regret that I cannot satisfy you," he answered.
"Is not twenty thousand pounds sufficient to satisfy you, without asking
questions?"
"But I cannot see how a legal marriage can take place," I queried.
"There are surely formalities to be observed."
"Leave them all to me," he answered quickly. "Rest assured that I have
overlooked no detail in this affair. A mock marriage would, of course,
have been easy enough; but I intend that Beryl shall be legally wedded,
and for the service rendered me by becoming her husband I am prepared to
pay you twenty thousand pounds the instant the ceremony is concluded."
Then, unlocking a drawer in his writing-table, he drew forth a large
bundle of notes secured by an elastic band, which he held towards me,
saying--
"These are yours if you care to accept my offer."
I glanced at the thick square packet of crisp notes, and saw that each
was for one hundred pounds. My eyes wandered to the Tempter's face.
The look I saw there startled me. Was he actually the devil in human
guise?
He noticed the quick start I gave, and instantly his features relaxed
into a smile.
"I cannot see what possible ground you can have for scruples," he said.
"To deceive a dying girl in order to render her last moments happy is
surely admissible. Come, render me this trifling service."
And thus he persuaded and cajoled me, tempting me with the money in his
hand to sell my name. Reader, place yourself in my position for a
moment. I might, I reflected, slave through all my life, and never
become possessed of such a sum. I was not avaricious, far from it; yet
with twenty thousand pounds I could gain the zenith of my ambition, and
lead the quiet, even life that had so long been my ideal. I strove to
shut my ears to the persuasive words of the Tempter, but could not. The
service was not a very great one, after all. The woman who was to be my
wife was dying. In a few hours, at most, I should be free again, and
our contract would remain for ever a secret.
The sight of that money--money with a curse upon it, money that, had I
known the truth, I would have flung into the grate and burned rather
than suffer its contact with my hand--decided me. Reader, can you
wonder at it? I was desperately in want of money, and, throwing my
natural caution and discretion to the winds, I yielded. Yes, I yielded.
The Tempter drew a distinct sigh of relief. His sinister face, so thin
that I could trace the bones beneath the white, tightly-stretched skin,
grinned in satisfaction, for he was now confident of his power over me.
He had me irretrievably in his toils. He tossed the notes carelessly
back into the drawer and locked it with the key upon his chain, then,
glancing at the clock and rising, said--
"We must lose no time. All is prepared. Come with me."
My heart at that instant beat so loudly that its pulsations were
audible. I was to sacrifice myself and wed an unknown bride in order to
gain that packet of banknotes. Mine was indeed a strange position, but,
held beneath the spell of this man's presence, I obeyed him and followed
him, curious to see the face of the woman to whom I was to give my name.
Together we went out into the hall where stood the man-servant who had
admitted me.
"Is everything ready, Davies?" his master inquired. "Everything, sir.
The carriage is at the door."
"I would ask of you one favour," the Tempter said, in a low voice; "do
not express any surprise. All will be afterwards explained."
From the inner pocket of his frock-coat he produced a pair of white kid
gloves, which he handed me, observing, with a smile--
"They are large for you, I fear; but that will not much matter. You
will meet my daughter at the church; it looks better."
Then, as I commenced putting on the gloves, we went out together, and
entered the smart brougham awaiting us. All preparations had evidently
been made for my marriage.
Our drive was not a long one; but so bewildered was I by my singular
situation, that I took little notice of the direction in which we were
travelling. Indeed, I was utterly unfamiliar with that part of London,
and I only know that we crossed Sloane Street, and, after traversing a
number of back streets, suddenly stopped before a church standing in a
small cul-de-sac.
The strip of faded red baize upon the steps showed that we were
expected; but the church was empty save for a wheezy, unshaken old
verger, who, greeting us, preceded us to a pew in front.
Scarcely had we seated ourselves, conversing in whispers, when we heard
a second carriage stop; and, turning, I saw in the entrance the
silhouette of my unknown bride in her white satin gown. She advanced up
the aisle leaning heavily upon the arm of a smartly-dressed man, who
wore a monocle with foppish air. Her progress was slow--due, no doubt,
to extreme weakness. Her veil was handsome, but so thick that, in the
dim gloom of the church, I was quite unable to distinguish her features.
As she passed where I sat, silent, anxious, and wondering, the Tempter
prompted me, and I rose and took my place beside her, while at the same
moment the officiating clergyman himself appeared from the vestry. His
face was red and pimply, showing him to be of intemperate habits; but at
his order I took my unknown companion's slim, soft hand in mine, and the
scent of the orange blossom in her corsage filled my nostrils. I stood
like a man in a dream.