The crash of the music, the hum of voices, and the song of the rippling
fountains seemed to dazzle Ida May's senses.
"Promise me that you will marry me, my darling!" cried the impetuous
lover. "Would it be so very difficult, Ida?" he whispered.
She clung to him, the terror deepening in her eyes.
"This is a little romance all our own," he added, clasping her
closely. "Ida, let me kiss you!" He clasped his arms around her and
drew her to his breast. "You are mine in life, mine in death, and mine
through all eternity!"
He kissed the sweet lips over and over again.
She was so young that she believed him.
"Let us be married first, then we can talk over all these things
after!" he exclaimed, impetuously.
She was dazed by his passionate words.
He felt quite sure that this sweet, beautiful, dainty young girl could
not hold out against him if he only persisted.
One more bold stroke, and the heiress would be his.
There would be a scene, he well knew, when he brought the young girl
back to the old folks. But it would surely end by their forgiving her.
They could not hold out against her very long.
"You are--sure--it--it--would be right, Mr. Ainsley?" she faltered.
"You must not call me 'mister' sweet one," he cried. "To you I shall
be 'Royal' from now on to eternity. Let me manage this affair, my
darling," he added.
All power of resistance seemed swallowed up by his indomitable will.
"Go to the cloak-room, my love," he whispered, "and change your attire
as quickly as you can. I will meet you at the fountain nearest the
entrance. Not one word to either of your friends, Ida," he said,
warningly. "Promise me that!"
There was no crossing him. Indeed, the very power to even think for
herself seemed to have left her.
Like one in a dream, Ida May donned her street clothes, the thought
filling her mind of what Hildegarde and Lily would say when it was
unmasking time and they came to look for her. How startled they would
be!
Outside all was confusion. There was a great crush of carriages, the
babble of coachmen and footmen, the crunching of wheels, and the
calling of numbers. To the girl whom Royal Ainsley led on to so strange
a fate it seemed like a dream. Some one followed with their wheels.
Royal Ainsley took them from the man, and she saw him toss him several
pieces of silver.
He did not tell her that he had written a note to an old minister,
living two miles out of the village, asking him to remain at home to
marry them. No name had been signed to the note; but he had argued to
himself that the minister, who probably was sadly in need of making an
extra dollar, would stay at home to perform the ceremony. If his plans
matured well, all well and good; if they miscarried, well, no one would
be the wiser as to who sent the letter.
He assisted her to mount her wheel, and, as if in a dream, they went
speeding down the boulevard.
"We must make quicker time, my darling," he said.
Was it a sob he heard coming from the girl's lips? Ida May seemed to
have suddenly awakened to a sense of what she had done. A brief half
hour since she had been in the midst of a brilliant party, and now,
scarcely knowing how it had come about, she found herself flying with
the handsome lover, whom she had known but a few short weeks, going she
knew not whither.
The awakening came to her like a terrible shock.
"Royal!" she cried, "oh, Royal, what have we done? Where are we going?
I did not mean to run away. I must have been mad. Let us go back
again!"
As she spoke, the great clock from some adjoining tower struck the hour
of twelve.
"We are too late," he said. "We have burned our bridges behind us. They
are unmasking now, and they have missed you. They will soon institute a
search."
She clasped his arm.
"Oh, Royal! I must tell you all!"
The hot, trembling hand clung to him, the lovely young face was full of
awful grief.
"My own darling!" he cried, leaning over and rapturously embracing her,
though in doing so he nearly caused her to fall from her wheel.
Suddenly the heavens overhead seemed to darken, the wind to freshen,
and the booming of the waves, as they dashed heavily against the shore,
sounded dismally in the distance.
"We must make haste," said Royal Ainsley; "there is a storm coming up.
I think we could save nearly half a mile by cutting across this field."
He swung open a gate opening out into a broad patch of land, and Ida
rode in.