ANOTHER VICTIM
The garden in front of the Hampton cottage was at its best on a bright
summer afternoon. As Mrs. Hampton stood in the midst of the flowers,
her eyes shone with pride. She was very much at home here, and loved
each flower, from the delicate, fragrant mignonette to the
gaily-coloured, boisterous tiger-lily. The fence surrounding the
garden was lost in a wealth of vines, chief among which was the
morning-glory, whose vase-shaped blossoms were drooping sleepily
beneath the sun's hot glare.
Close to the garden ran the main highway, and at times Mrs. Hampton
lifted her head and looked longingly down the road as if expecting
someone. She was a woman of generous mould, and graceful bearing,
scarcely past the meridian of life. It was not age which had whitened
her hair, and years of toil had not stamped the furrows upon her brow,
nor fixed the sad expression in her clear blue eyes. Something more
subtle than the silent alchemy of time had wrought the change, and of
this Mrs. Hampton was thinking now.
The click of the garden gate startled her, and turning quickly she saw
Gabriel Grimsby, hot and dust-laden coming toward her. His face was
beaming as usual, but more sunburnt, and he was mopping his forehead
with a big red handkerchief. Mrs. Hampton smiled as she held out a
hand of welcome.
"I am glad to see you, Gabriel," she accosted. "It has been a long
time since you were here. Busy, I suppose?"
"Very. My, it's hot!" he panted, as he again wiped his brow. "I never
felt the heat so much before. It must be ninety in the shade."
"Hardly that," and Mrs. Hampton smiled. "Come up on the verandah,
Gabriel. I think you will find it nice and cool there."
Grimsby at once followed Mrs. Hampton out of the garden, and up the
steps to the spacious verandah, where he sank at once into a
comfortable chair.
"This is great!" he exclaimed. "You are fortunate in having such a
beautiful spot."
"You are tired, Gabriel. Just rest yourself. I shall be back shortly."
Grimsby smiled contentedly when Mrs. Hampton had gone, and looked
curiously around.
"The Hamptons must be doing well," he mused. "House newly painted,
farm in good condition, and garden the finest I have seen. They must
have a snug bank-account from all appearance. And why shouldn't they?
If there was a brood of kids to feed, such as I have, it would make a
great difference. Maybe they've made good with that coal mine.
Anyway, I guess I've struck this place about the right time. People
who have plenty should help them who haven't much. This is certainly
restful after that long walk. I wonder where John is."
His meditation was interrupted by Mrs. Hampton's return. She carried a
tray containing a glass of home-made wine, and a plate of frosted
doughnuts. Grimsby was all alert now, and smiling blandly.
"This is certainly good of you, madame," he remarked as he took the
glass, and one of the doughnuts. "It's not often I get treated this
way, especially when I call on business."
"What are you doing these days, Gabriel?" Mrs. Hampton asked as she
placed the plate of doughnuts upon a flower-shelf near at hand, and
seated herself upon the verandah steps.
Grimsby sipped the wine, and bit off a piece of his doughnut before
replying. Then he looked at his hostess in a quizzical manner.
"Don't you know my business, madame?"
"I am afraid not, Gabriel, as you have been at so many different things
during the last few years. I hope you have settled down to something
steady for the sake of your family, at least."
"You need not worry at all about me now," and Grimsby's eyes twinkled.
He was thinking of the surprise he had in store for this woman, so he
could take her words with good grace. "But money isn't everything,
madame. Just think of that poor girl who drowned herself last night at
Benton's wharf. She had all the good things of life, and yet she was
not happy."
"What girl?" Mrs. Hampton asked. "I haven't heard about her."
"No, I suppose not. I only learned the news this morning. Men are now
dragging the river for her body."
"It is certainly sad. Who is she? and why did she drown herself?"
"She is the only daughter of Randall, the big lumber merchant. Her
father and mother wanted her to marry some young Lord, Donaster I think
is his name. But she objected, so when they insisted, she took the
matter into her own hands and made an end to her young life. So you
see, madame, money isn't everything, is it?"
"Was she quite young?" Mrs. Hampton asked, unheeding Grimsby's
question.
"About twenty, so I understand. And very pretty, too. I have seen her
two or three times. She was very much sought after by young men, and a
great favourite in society, so I have been told."
"How did she drown herself?"
"Went out in a boat, so I believe, and jumped overboard. They found
the boat adrift down river this morning, and her hat was picked up
along the shore. That's about all I know."
"Dear me, this is very sad," and Mrs. Hampton sighed. "I suppose John
will know more about the affair when he comes home. Help yourself to
the doughnuts, Gabriel."
"Thanks, madame. They are delicious. Your son is not at home, then?"
"No. He went to the city yesterday, and I am expecting him at any
minute."
"What a big, fine-looking fellow he is getting to be, madame. I saw
him the other day, and was surprised at the way he has grown. He's a
great worker, too, so I hear."
"Yes, John is a good boy, Gabriel. He is a great comfort to me."
"Better than a daughter, eh?" As Grimsby asked the question he noted
that Mrs. Hampton gave a slight start, and it pleased him. "A girl
wouldn't be much use on a farm such as this," he continued. "I suppose
he's doing something with that coal mine, too."
"It's the mine that took him to the city. The prospects are very
encouraging, so I am anxious to hear how he has made out."
"A daughter, then, wouldn't be able to carry on such work, would she,
madame?"
"I suppose not," was the somewhat slow reply. "But why do you ask?
Why do you mention a daughter to me?"
"Why shouldn't I? You have a daughter, haven't you?"
At these words Mrs. Hampton's face turned white. She rose to her feet,
her whole body trembling, and confronted Grimsby.
"What do you mean?" she gasped. "Why do you ask whether I have a
daughter?"
"It's true, though, isn't it? There, now, don't get so worked up. You
seem to take my simple question very much to heart."
With her hand pressing her side, Mrs. Hampton stood staring upon the
placid man before her. What does he know? she asked herself. Why did
he mention a daughter to me?
"I see I am not far astray, madame. You have a daughter, and it is
concerning her that I am here."
"Oh!" It was all that the woman could say, but the tone in which it
was uttered clearly expressed the agony of her soul.
"Yes, madame, you understand now my business. For some time I tried to
enlighten people's minds by supplying them with good literature. But
business is dull these days, so I have been forced to turn to something
else for a living for me and mine. And I must say that this new
business pays much better. I am a stand-between, and in that capacity
I am here to-day."
"A stand-between! I do not know what you mean."
"Quite true, madame. It is hard for you, living so comfortably, to
understand how difficult it is for some people to stand between those
they love and poverty. I fear I have not done very well along that
line in the past, though I am improving now."
"But what has all this to do with my daughter, of whom you speak?" Mrs.
Hampton somewhat impatiently asked. "What right have you even to
suggest that I have a daughter."
"Can you deny it?"
"Yes, I do."
"Madame! I am surprised at you."
"You need not be at all surprised, sir. I had a daughter once, but she
has been dead for many years."
"Ah, madame, dead to you, perhaps, but not to others. Have you
forgotten that?"
For a few seconds Mrs. Hampton tried to maintain her composure. But
the strain was too much upon her, so sinking down upon the steps, she
buried her face in her hands. Grimsby was by no means affected by the
woman's distress. He rather enjoyed it. He knew now that she was in
his power. Drawing forth a package of cigarettes, he selected one,
lighted it, and smoked in silent contentment. He had often seen his
wife in just such a situation, so it was nothing new to him.
At length Mrs. Hampton lifted her head and looked at Grimsby. There
were tears in her eyes, and her face was drawn and white. The
comfortable, self-satisfied man annoyed her, and a wave of indignation
swept upon her.
"Why have you come here to-day to torment me?" she asked.
"Torment you! In what way?"
"By your words of insinuation."
"Are they not true?"
"Suppose I deny them?"
"It would be no use, madame. I have all the necessary proof."
"Of what?"
"Don't you know? Do you wish me to tell what happened in a private
hospital, twenty years ago, and how you exchanged----"
"Stop, stop! For God's sake, don't say any more!"
"You acknowledge it all, then?"
"How can I deny it? But who told you?"
"Madame," and Grimsby flicked the ashes from his cigarette as he spoke,
"when a man has a wife such as mine, sooner or later he learns many
interesting things."
"Your wife! What does she know?"
"Evidently too much for your peace of mind."
"But how does she know?"
"Simply because she happened to be Hettie Rawlins before she became
Mrs. Grimsby."
"Hettie Rawlins," Mrs. Hampton repeated. "That name sounds familiar.
Where have I heard it before?"
"In that private hospital, madame. She was the girl who exchanged the
babies. Surely you have not forgotten her."
"Oh, now I do remember. And she is your wife?"
"She is, unfortunate for her."
"This is all new to me."
"Strange that you should forget her, isn't it?"
"Not at all, I knew her only slightly at the hospital, as she was
seldom in my room."
"But long enough to transact a very important business matter, eh?"
"Yes, yes, too long! May God have mercy upon me for my sin! It is
almost more than I can stand."
"But you have stood it well all these years, madame."
"You think so, do you? But you little know what agony of soul I have
endured. Oh, it has been terrible!"
"H'm," Grimsby grunted, "it seems to me you have had many
compensations, such as the money you received, a fine place like this,
a good son, you call your own, and the prospect of making considerable
out of your coal mine. Surely they have been a balm to your heart and
mind. They would be to mine, anyway."
"No, no, no!" the woman declared. "Nothing can ever take the place of
my own sweet baby I so rashly bartered away. I thought so once, fool
that I was, but I know better now. No matter how dear another child
may become, and John means much to me, it is not one's own flesh and
blood. No one but a mother who has suffered can fully understand this.
During the twenty years that have passed since my fatal mistake, my
baby girl has been ever with me. If alive, she is a young woman now.
She goes by some other name, and calls another woman 'mother.' She
does not know of my existence, and even if she heard my name or met me
face to face, I would mean nothing to her."
Mrs. Hampton ceased, and looked out over the rippling surface of the
noble St. John. Far down the river her eyes caught the gleam of a
white sail, bending to the gentle breeze. She knew that the boat must
be the "Eb and Flo," for Mrs. Tobin had called that morning and told
her that she was expecting her son and husband home. But it meant
nothing to her, neither was she aware of a slight graceful girl
standing by the captain's side, asking questions about the various
places along the river. Had she but known, how soon her look of
indifference would have vanished.
"So you have no knowledge, then, as to your--your daughter's
whereabouts?" It was Grimsby speaking, and it aroused her from her
reverie.
"None at all. I do not even know the name of the woman who got my
baby."
"She was very wealthy, I suppose?"
"I believe so, but----" She suddenly stopped, and an expression of
hope leaped into her eyes. "Tell me, do you know where she is? Your
wife must know, anyway."
She waited almost breathlessly for a reply, but when Grimsby smiled and
shook his head, the light of hope faded from her eyes.
"You don't know?" she asked in a voice scarcely above a whisper.
"I didn't say that, madame. Maybe I know and maybe I don't. But what
good would it do if I should tell where she is? You could not get her
back again, no matter how hard you might try. And, besides, she
wouldn't want to come. She has been brought up to a life of luxury of
which you know nothing. She moves in high social circles, and would be
ashamed of you. Suppose she should find out that you are her mother,
what would she think if she learned how you sold her for money when she
was a helpless baby? Have you thought of that?"
"Stop, stop! For God's sake don't say any more!" the unhappy woman
pleaded. "It is all too true, but I can hardly bear it. I know she
would scorn me for what I did. But it would be a comfort if I could
look upon her, see her face, and know that she is my child. If I could
but feast my eyes upon her even for a few minutes, it would mean
everything to me."
"No, madame, you are mistaken. If you saw her once it would make you
more dissatisfied than ever. It would only add to your agony of soul,
of which you speak."
"So you won't tell me, Gabriel?"
"No, I must not."
"Then why have you come here to-day to torment me? Why have you
mentioned my child to me? I believe you know where she is, and yet you
will not tell me. What is the meaning of all this?"
"Ah, now you are coming to the point," and Grimsby smilingly rubbed his
hands together in satisfaction. "I have a definite purpose in coming
to see you to-day. I felt that I could not delay any longer. It is a
mere matter of business, nothing more."
"Has it anything to do with the mine, Gabriel?"
"Oh, not at all. It is far more important to you than that. It has to
do with something that happened twenty years ago. There, now, madame,
keep calm. Don't get excited. I see you understand to what I refer,
and that is good. Now, how would you like for that to be known?"
"Heavens, man! Are you in earnest? Surely you must be joking."
"Not at all. I was never more in earnest in my life. I merely asked
if you would like the above-mentioned transaction made public. That is
all I wish to know."
"No, no; it must not be mentioned. For almost twenty years it has been
kept a secret, and why should the public know of it now? It would
break my heart. I could never face anyone again. And John, who is so
dear to me, what would he think? How could I explain? It must not be!
You will not tell, will you?"
Grimsby lighted another cigarette, crossed his legs, and smoked
contentedly. He was quite satisfied, so could afford to take his time.
This woman's trouble was nothing to him, and no accusing conscience
worried him in the least degree. He was past all that.
"I shall not tell, madame," he at length replied, "that is, providing
you make it worth while."
"In what way, Gabriel? What can I do to obtain your silence?"
"There is only one thing that will perform the charm. It has seldom
failed. I believe it is still powerful to silence tongues. It will
keep mine still, at any rate. Is it hard to guess what that is? You
should know of all women, for it proved effective twenty years ago."
Mrs. Hampton started, and looked keenly into the face of the man before
her.
"Do you mean money?" she asked. "Is that what will silence your
tongue?"
"Ah, I am glad that you have guessed it, madame. It will save
unnecessary talk. Yes, it is money, for it is money I need more than
anything else."
"Gabriel Grimsby! I cannot believe this of you. I always considered
you a man above such things. Are you willing to take money for keeping
silent? Would you not be afraid to use it?"
"Afraid! Of what, pray?"
"Of what might happen. Money obtained in such a way never does any
good."
"Are you speaking from experience, madame? It was not so in your case,
I believe."
Mrs. Hampton made no reply. Her eyes dropped, and, her face flushed.
Grimsby knew that the thrust had gone home, and he again smiled.
"You understand, I see," he continued. "That is the only thing,
madame, which will cause me to keep your secret."
"And if I don't give you anything?"
"You will have to take the consequences. Are you willing to do that?"
"No, no! This must never be known. How much do you want? Tell me
quick, and let us get through with this terrible business."
"I am quite as anxious as you are, madame. The amount depends upon how
much you are prepared to give."
"You want me to mortgage this place, I suppose. You will not be
satisfied with a small amount."
"Indeed I shall. Surely you must have some money on hand now. That
will be sufficient for the present. Then, when you sell your mine, you
might remember your benefactor."
"Benefactor! Robber you should say," Mrs. Hampton indignantly
retorted. "To think that I should be held up by such a person as you.
But it cannot be helped, I suppose. Will one hundred dollars satisfy
you? It is all I have."
Grimsby bowed, and waved his hand in an eloquent manner.
"It will be very acceptable to me just now. One hundred dollars! It
seems like a fortune to me. It will do nicely."
Mrs. Hampton rose to her feet, and remained for a few seconds
thoughtfully silent. Then she turned toward Grimsby.
"If I give you this money, Gabriel, how can I trust you to keep this
secret?"
"I give you my word of honour, madame. Bring the Bible, and I shall
swear by it."
Mrs. Hampton gave a deep sigh as she turned toward the door of the
house. "I am afraid, Gabriel, that your word of honour isn't worth
much, and that the Bible wouldn't make any difference. However, I
suppose I shall have to trust you. Just wait a minute."
Grimsby was greatly pleased with himself now. His eyes were turned
toward the river, fixed upon the white sail which was much nearer. He
had accomplished his object easier than he had expected. In a short
time Mrs. Hampton returned, and handed him a roll of bills.
"There, you will find the full amount," she quietly told him. "It is
all I have in the house. I hope you are satisfied."
Grimsby was about to speak, when a raucous toot of an auto down the
road caused Mrs. Hampton to turn suddenly. At once her face went very
white, and she laid her hand heavily upon the man's arm.
"It's John!" she gasped. "Leave at once!"
In an instant Grimsby was on his feet. He seized his hat, leaped down
the steps, rushed toward the gate, and was walking rapidly down the
road as the car sped up. The driver hailed him in passing. He waved
in reply, and then hurried on his way. Grimsby was not anxious to meet
John Hampton just then.