The hapless young wife looked into the hard, set face above her, her
eyes dilating with fear.
Her brain reeled; it seemed to her that she was dying.
"Listen to what I have to say," exclaimed Royal Ainsley, his hand
tightening on her shoulder. "You have a fine home here--much finer
than I could possibly offer you--and I propose that you shall keep
it. There is no use in wasting sentiment between us. We do not care
for each other, and you _do_ care for Eugene Mallard. It will be some
satisfaction for you to live beneath this roof, and I won't mind it
at all, providing you make it worth my while. I will make my meaning
clearer to you. I must have some money, and you are the one who must
help me to it. Get a thousand dollars, and I will go away and never
again molest you. Come, now, what do you say?"
Ida drew back and looked at him.
"You know that I could not get it for you," she said, with calmness.
"You know the alternative," he said, harshly.
"No matter what the alternative is, I--I could not help you," she
answered, huskily.
"If you refuse," he went on, "I can have Eugene Mallard and yourself
arrested for bigamy. I can send you both to prison, and, so help me
Heaven, I'll do it! You say that you love Eugene Mallard. We will see
if you love him well enough to save him."
"You monster!" she gasped, wildly, "you would not do such a thing, I
say. You dare not outrage Heaven like that."
"The shoe is on the other foot. It is _you_ who have outraged Heaven
in violating the law. I must have that money, and you know I am a
desperate man."
He would not tell her just now that her child was alive. He would save
that piece of news for some other time.
Before she could reply, they saw some of the servants crossing the lawn.
"I must go!" she cried, wrenching herself free from his grasp. "They
have come in search of me!"
"I shall be here to-morrow night at this very spot awaiting your
answer," he said, harshly.
Why had Heaven let Royal Ainsley find her? Had he not already brought
misery enough into her life?
She turned the matter over in her mind. Every word he had said, every
threat he had made, occurred to her.
Would he make good his threat, and take vengeance upon the man she
loved if she refused to raise one thousand dollars for him?
She knew he was what he had said--a desperate man.
Oh, if she had but dared creep into the library, throw herself at
Eugene Mallard's feet, and tell him all, what woe would have been
spared her. But, alas! she dared not.
Heaven help her! How could she leave Eugene Mallard, whom she loved
better than life.
She crept up to her room, and during the long hours of the night she
fought the fiercest battle that woman ever fought with herself. If she
gave Royal Ainsley the money he had asked for, he would certainly go
away and never cross her path again.
Her heart leaped at the thought. The thought that she was still bound
to Royal Ainsley brought with it the most poignant grief--a feeling of
horror.
She did realize what it meant to live there beneath that roof, even
after she had found out the truth--that she was not Eugene Mallard's
wife.
What harm was there in living in the home of the man she loved, seeing
that they were so far apart in heart as well as in purpose?
"No, I can not tear myself away from the only one I have ever loved!"
she cried. "If I were living here with Eugene Mallard as his wife, then
my duty would be plain--I would have to leave here at once."
No, no! Come what might, she could not tear herself away from Eugene
Mallard.
In the drawer of her writing-desk lay a roll of bills which Eugene had
handed her the day before, to purchase new furniture for her suite of
rooms.
"Select it the first day you go to the city," he had said.
She had intended purchasing it the following week.
Now she went hurriedly to her desk, took out the roll of bills, and
counted them.
There was just a thousand dollars. She drew a great sigh of relief.
That would buy Royal Ainsley's eternal silence. Before handing it to
him, she would swear him to secrecy forever.
She never knew how she lived through the next day.
There was not a moment that Royal Ainsley's handsome, cruel, sneering
face did not appear before her.
How she loathed him! She hated, with fierce, intense hatred, the very
sound of his name.
Night came at last.
The few guests that were stopping at the house were assembled in the
drawing-room, and it was not an easy matter to find some convenient
excuse to get away from them.
But when the hands of the clock on the mantel pointed to the hour of
eight, she felt that she must get away.
Some one suggested playing a piece of music which she had taken to her
room the day before to study.
"I will go and search for it," she said; and with that remark she
glided from the room.
How dark the night was! She almost shivered as she touched the graveled
walk and hurried down to the brook-side.
When this night had passed away, a life-time of happiness would lay
before her. The wind moaned fitfully among the trees, and the branches
of the tall oaks swayed to and fro. She heard the murmur of the brook
before she reached it, and as she drew near and became accustomed to
the dim light, she saw a tall man pacing up and down.
He did not hear the light step on the grass. He was muttering
imprecations that made the girl's heart turn cold with dread as she
listened. Then he saw her.
"Ah! you have come!" he eagerly called out. "It is well for you that
you did," he continued, "for I had just made up my mind to go to the
house and ask for you."
In the dim light he saw her recoil. Although she made no answer, he
fancied he could almost hear the wild throbbing of her heart.
"Did you bring the money?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered hoarsely; "but before I give it to you, I shall
exact a solemn promise that you will never come near me again!"
"Certainly you shall have the promise--a dozen of them if you like,"
he cried, forcing back an insolent laugh.
"You must solemnly promise that you will never come near me again if I
give this money to you," she said.
"No," he answered; "I will never come near you. I will go abroad. Does
that satisfy you?"
"Yes," she answered. "Only go so far away that I shall never see your
face again."
He closed his hand eagerly over the money, saying to himself that it
was a veritable gold mine that he had found.
"Let me go!" she panted, as he put out his hand to touch her.
With the swiftness of a startled deer, she fled past him into the
darkness of the grounds.
Royal Ainsley laughed harshly.
"This money will last me for a few weeks, my lady," he muttered, "and
then--Ah! we shall see!"