A CONFESSION OF LOVE
I could scarcely believe my eyes as the mantel swung slowly outward,
revealing the black hole beyond. I glanced about helplessly, and sprang
to the door of the room to call back Farrell. He was not in the upper
hall, but as my eyes swept its length I remembered a half-burned candle
in the chamber opposite. By the time I returned with it lighted, the
mantel had turned on its pivot, leaving the way clear. The narrow stair
was vacant, stretching down into the black depths. I listened, my heart
throbbing, but no sound came from below. Could she be there? Was there
any other secret passage by which she could have disappeared? I shuddered
at memory of what it meant to be shut up in that dismal hole, without the
companionship of light. Fearful of some accident I paused long enough to
wedge a heavy piece of furniture in the opening, and then, shading the
bit of candle, began groping my way down. I had reached the lower floor
before the flickering yellow rays revealed any evidence of her presence.
Then I saw a girl lying head down upon the table. My hand touched her arm
before she moved, but then she faced me, wild-eyed, the pistol gleaming
in the candle-light.
"Claire! Claire!" I exclaimed, startled at her sudden movement. "Surely
you know me."
For the instant she did not, her eyes full of terror.
"No! no!" she cried hysterically. "Oh, it cannot be! It is a dream!
You--you--tell me who you are?"
I caught her hand, the pistol falling to the floor, and placed the
candlestick upon the table.
"It is no dream, dear. I am Allen Lawrence, and I have come for you. I
know I look disreputable enough, but there has been fighting--surely you
know me now."
She caught her breath quickly, clinging to me with both hands--her eyes
softening as she studied my face.
"Allen--Allen Lawrence!" she repeated softly. "Oh, I can scarcely believe
it true. Let me feel of you. I--I believe I was going insane--the dark,
the awful dark, and, and no way out--no way out."
"Yes, yes, I understand," I whispered, drawing her to me. "I was hidden
here once, remember. But it is over with now."
"But--how did you find a way to me? I--I never thought until it was all
over that I had shut myself in here to die. I was so frightened. I just
ran and hid. Oh, you cannot conceive what I had gone through."
She drew away from me, and again hid her face on the table.
"Oh, but I can, Claire," and I bent over her, my hand fondling her hair.
"I was there in the hall below, ready even then to act in your defence. I
heard all that was said, saw all that was done."
"You--you were there?" sobbing out the words. "You saw me kill him?"
"Yes, and had you delayed another instant I should have done it."
"Then--then," she glanced up, tears dimming her eyes, "you do not blame
me? You do not think me a wicked wretch?"
"I think you a brave, noble woman," I burst forth. "How could I feel
otherwise? Look up, little girl; I want to see your face. No, don't
shrink back from me. There is no cause. I know the whole story without
your speaking a word. You asked me to come back to help you, and I came."
"Yes," she whispered, "I know. You have been so good."
"Good! I loved you, dear. From the moment I lifted you out of the way of
that mob in Philadelphia, I have loved you. I did not understand much
that occurred, but I have never doubted you. Now I realize the cause of
your masquerade and know you were justified. I can bring you good
news--Eric is not a traitor, but was a prisoner, captured by Fagin, and
held at Grant's request. We found him bound and under guard out yonder,
as we approached the house."
"And he is here now?"
"Yes; he was hurt in the fight, and is still unconscious, but will live."
"His reputation--"
"Is safe. Washington believes he brought him the news of Clinton's route
of march, and will never know otherwise."
She arose to her feet, standing straight and slender before me, the
flickering light of the candle on her face.
"Major Lawrence," she began, "I wish to get out of here--it seems like a
grave to me,--but I must speak first. Oh, I am so glad I have
accomplished what I endeavored to do for my brother. Captain Grant tried
to make me believe him a deserter, but I would not. When he failed to
come back to me as he had promised, I could hardly determine what my duty
was. I knew his plans, his orders, and the thought came that I should
carry these out myself. We looked sufficiently alike so that this could
be done with little danger of discovery. He had uniforms concealed here,
and I felt driven to impersonate him. I do not insist that I did right; I
do not know--only it seemed right to me. Then--then," her voice faltered,
"I met you, again and again, and I--I began to doubt myself. I had no one
to confide in, no one to advise me. I was simply compelled to go ahead,
and keep my own secret. The only ones I knew I could absolutely trust
were our old house servants."
"You doubted me even?"
"Yes, at first, but you must not blame me. We met strangely; you were a
gentleman and an officer; I felt sure of this, and was tempted oftentimes
to tell you my story. But before I dared do so, you--you spoke of other
things and--and then I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?" and I caught her hand in mine. "That a knowledge of
what you were attempting to accomplish would turn me against you?"
Her eyes fell, shaded by the long lashes.
"Yes; once, do you remember I almost began a confession, when you spoke
of your old-fashioned mother, and her conception of womanhood. How could
I tell you then that I had dressed as a man, and played the part of a
spy? I--I thought you might despise me, and--and I wished so to retain
your respect. It was an accident we were with Delavan that night. We were
endeavoring to waylay a courier, and rode suddenly into his party. I had
to invent a tale on the spur of the moment. Major Lawrence, now that you
know all, tell me the one thing I must know before we join the
others--would you wish your own sister to do as I have done?"
"Not to pass through the dangers, surely," I returned eagerly, "but I
should rejoice at her loyalty, and be proud of her. Claire, Claire, there
has never been in my heart aught but love for you. As Lady of the Blended
Rose, as daughter of a Colonel of Queen's Rangers, even in the disguise
of a Dragoon, I have never questioned the depth of your womanhood. Once I
guessed you a British spy, yet ceased not to love you. Am I to have my
reward? You know little of me, as you say, but as an officer and a
gentleman, I ask you to repeat again what you whispered to me once out
yonder under the stars--do you remember, dear?"
"It was only to compel you to leave me."
"And now it is an invitation to remain."
Her eyes were uplifted to mine. Slowly I drew her toward me, her arms
were upon my shoulders, and our lips met.
"I love you," she said slowly. "Yes, dear, I love you."
Above us, his head thrust through the opening, Farrell called:
"Have you found her, Major? Shall I come down?"
"It's not necessary."
"The Colonel is half crazy, and the boy is getting back his senses."
We went up together, I bearing the candle in one hand, and helping her
along the circular stairs with the other. In the upper hall I glanced
below, but the bodies of the dead had been removed. Farrell stood
bareheaded, a great figure on his short legs.
"This has been a fine night's work," he said steadily, "the last of
Fagin's gang."
"Dead?"
"Ay, and Grant with him--begging your pardon, mistress."
Her eyes glanced from his face into mine, and my hand-clasp tightened. It
was thus we went in together, and stood beside the Colonel's bed.
THE END
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
By MR. PARRISH
Love Under Fire: With Five Illustrations in Full Color and a Full-Color
Wrap, by Alonzo Kimball. _Net $1.35._
Keith of the Border: A Tale of the Plains. With Four Illustrations in
Full Color and a Full-Color Wrap, by W. Herbert Dunton. _Net $1.35._
----------------------------------
When Wilderness Was King: A Tale of the Illinois Country.
Illustrated by the Kinneys.
My Lady of the North: The Love Story of a Gray-Jacket.
Illustrated by E. M. Ashe.
A Sword of the Old Frontier: A Romance of the Time of Pontiac's Conspiracy.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
Bob Hampton of Placer: A Tale of Two Soldiers of the Seventh.
Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller.
Beth Norvell: A Romance of the West.
Illustrated by N. C. Wyeth.
Prisoners of Chance.
Illustrated by the Kinneys.
The Last Voyage of the Donna Isabel: A Romance of the Sea.
Illustrated by Allen T. True.
My Lady of the South: A Story of the Civil War.
Illustrated by Alonzo Kimball.
_Each, Crown 8vo, $1.50._
----------------------------------
Don Mac Grath: A Tale of the River.
Illustrated by John W. Norton. _Crown 8vo, $1.50._
Historic Illinois: The Romance of the Earlier Days.
With Map and Fifty Illustrations. _$2.50 net._
The Great Plains: The Romance of Western American Exploration,
Warfare, and Settlement, 1527-1870. With Numerous Illustrations.
_$1.75 net._
----------------------------------
A. C. McClurg & Co., Publishers, Chicago.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards.
2. List of books "By Mr. Parrish" moved to end of text.
3. Frontispiece illustration moved to after title page.
4. Typographic errors corrected from original:
p. 31 seen to see ("you can see")
p. 59 surpressed to suppressed ("suppressed excitement")
p. 202 addresed to addressed ("The man addressed as Colonel")
p. 367 SEACHING to SEARCHING ("SEARCHING FOR CLAIRE")