During these last days of my captivity, Mrs. Clayton was truly a piteous
sight to see--swathed in flannel and helpless as an infant, yet still
perversely vigilant as she had been in her hours of health, and
determined on the subject of opiates as before. I sometimes think she
feared to place herself wholly in my hands, as she must have been under
the influence of a powerful anodyne, and that, in spite of her
professions of confidence, and even affection, she feared me as her foe.
God knows that, had it been to save my own life, I would not have harmed
one hair of her viperish head, as flat on top as if the stone of the
Indian had been bound upon its crown from babyhood, yet full of brains
to bursting around the base of the skull.
It was necessary for Dinah to be in constant attendance on my Argus, and
even to feed her, so helpless were her hands, with the mucilages which
now formed her principal diet, by the order of some celebrated
physician, who wrote his prescriptions without seeing his patient, after
the form of the ancients, sending them daily through the hands of Mrs.
Raymond. Still those vigilant green eyes never faltered in their task,
and lying where--with the door opened between our chambers (as she
tyrannically required it to be most of the time) she could command a
view of almost every act of my life--I found her scrutiny more
unendurable than when she had at least feigned to be absorbed with her
stocking-basket. Ernie's noise, too, disturbed her, and I was obliged to
keep him constantly amused, for fear that her wrath might culminate in
eternal banishment.
The days slid on--November had passed through that exquisite phase of
existence (which almost redeems it from the reproach cast upon it
through all time, of being _par excellence the_ gloomy month of the
year), the sweet and balmy influences of which had reached us, even
through the walls of our prison-house, in the shape of smoky sunshine,
and balmy, odorous, and lingering blossoms, and was now asserting its
traditional character with much angry bluster of sleet, and storm, and
cutting wind. It was Herod lamenting his Marianne slain by his own hand,
and making others suffer the consequences of his regretted cruelty, his
remorseful anguish. It was the fierce Viking making wild wail over his
dead Oriana.
No more to come until another year had done its work of resurrection and
decay, the lovely Indian Summer slumbered under her mound of withered
flowers and heaps of gorgeous leaves, unheeding all, or unconscious of
the grief of her stern bridegroom.
Cold and bitter and bleak howled the November blast, and ruthlessly
drove the fleet against the shivering panes, exposed without, though
shielded within by Venetian folding shutters, on that gray morning, when
a passing whisper from most unlovely and altogether unfaithful lips
nerved me paradoxically to sudden resolution.
False as I knew old Dinah to be--almost on principle--still, I could not
disregard the possible truth of her passing warning, given in broken
whisper first as she poured out my tea and afterward prepared my bath.
"Honey, don't you touch no tea nor coffee dis evening after Dinah goes
oat ob here an' de bolt am fetched home; jus' make 'tence to drene it
down, like, but don't swaller one mortal drop, for dey is gwine to give
you a dose of laudamy"--nodding sagaciously and peering into the teapot
as she interpolated aloud; "sure enough, it is full ob grounds, honey!
(I heerd 'um say dat wid my own two blessed yers), for de purpose of
movin' you soun' asleep up to dat bell-tower (belfry, b'leves dey call
it sometimes)--he! he! he! next door, in dat big house, war de res' on
'em libs, de little angel gal too. You see, honey, der was an ossifer to
sarve a process writ about somebody here dis mornin', but dar was
something wrong about it, so dey all said, an' he is comin' to sarch de
house for you, I spec', to-morrow; for de hue an' cry is out somehow--or
mebbe it's me--he! he! he! (very faintly) an' dey is gwine to move you,
so dey says, to keep all dark, after you gets soun' asleep. But de
ossifer is 'bleeged to wait till mornin' (court-time, as I heerd 'em
say) comes roun' agin to git de _haby-corpy_ fixed up right, an' dat'a
how he spounded hisself. Wat does dat mean, honey?"
"I can scarcely make you understand now, Dinah" (aside). "Don't ask
me--just go on, low, very low; how did you hear all this?" (Aloud) "More
cream, Dinah."
"Wid my ear to de key-hole, in de study, war dey axed de osaifer. My
'spicions was roused by de words he 'dressed to me wen I opened de front
do', for, you see, dat ole nigger watch-dog ob dern, dat has nebber a
good word for nobody, was gone to market, an' Madame Raymond she hel' de
watch, an' she sont me from de kitchen to mine de front-do' bell.
"'Old dame,' says the ossifer (for so dey calls him), as pleasant as a
mornin' in May, 'has you a young gal locked up here as you knows ob? Now
tell what you choose, and don't be afraid of dese folks. Dis is a free
country for bofe black and white.'
"Den I answered him straightforward like de trufe: 'Dar's nobody in de
house heah but wat you kin see for axin' for 'em, as far as I knows on.
Wat young gal do you 'lude to, masta?--Bridget Maloney, I spose, dat
Irish heifer wat does de chambers ebery mornin' and goes home ob
ebenin's, Ef you means her, she's off to church to-day, an' sleeps at
her mammy's house.'
"'Does you feel willin' to swar to de trufe of your insertion, ole
dame?' he disclaims. 'I shall resist on dat'--fierce as a buck-rabbit,
holdin' up his right hand, an' blinkin' his little 'cute eyes.
"Sartin an' sure I does when de right time is come,' I sez. 'Jes' take
me to de court-hous' ef you doubt Dinah's word compunctionable. I neber
hab bin in dat place yit since I was sold in Georgy on de block befo' de
high, wooden steps; but I knows it in more solemn to lie dar dan in
Methody meetin'-house.'
"Den Mr. Bainrofe he cum out, hearin' de talk, in dat long-tailed,
satin-flowered gownd ob his'n, wid a silk rope tied roun' his waist, an'
gole tossels hangin' in front, jes' like a Catholic Roman or a king, an'
he sez, 'Walk in here, my fren, an' don't tamper wid my servants--dat
ain't gentlem'ly;' den he puts his han' on de ossifer's shoulder, an'
dey walked in together, an' I listened at de do', in duty boun', an' I
heerd him say,' Plant a guard if you choose--do wateber you like--but,
till dat writ am rectified, you can't sarch through my house, for a
man's house is his castle here, as in de Great Britain, till de law
reaches out a long arm an' a strong arm.' Dat was wat Mr. Bainrofe
spounded to de ossifer, an' he 'peared fused-like an' flustertied, for I
peeped fru de key-hole at 'em wen dey wus talkin'.' An,' sez he, 'dis
heah paper does want de secon' seal, sure enough, since I 'xamine it,
wat you is so 'tickiler 'bout; but dat can easily be reconstructified,
an' I'll be sartin sure to be here airly to-morrow morning. In de mean
while, my man, McDermot, shall keep de house in his eye, an' mus' hab de
liberty of lodgment.'
"Den Mr. Bainrofe he say, 'Oh, sartinly--your man, McDermot, am welcome
to his bite an' sup, an' all he kin fine out'--an' he laughed, an' dey
parted, mighty pleasant-like, and den he called Mrs. Raymun' and Mass'
Gregory, an' I listened again. Dat's our colored way for reformation,
child. An' I heerd 'em--"
"Dinah! Dinah! what are you muttering about--don't you hear Mrs. Raymond
knocking? Miss Monfort must be tired out of your nonsense. What keeps
you there so long?"
"I'se spounding another speritual to Miss Miramy, an', wen I gits 'gaged
in dat way, I disregards airthly knockin'. I'se listenin' to de angels
hammerin' overhead, an' Mrs. Raymun' will hab to wait a spell--he! he!
he!"
"Oh, go at once, Dinah, and open the door for Mrs. Raymond. I can write
your song down just as well another time," I remonstrated, taking up and
laying down my note-book as I spoke, so as to display my ostensible
occupation to the peering eyes of Mrs. Clayton (now sitting bolt upright
in her bed, looking like a Chinese bonze), for the purpose of sweeping
in my position definitively.
"That will do, Dinah. Now go and get Miss Monfort's bath ready," I
heard my dragoness say, after a short whispered communication from her
early visitor. It was the idea, probably, to remove me, as well as
Dinah, while the plot was being unfolded, and my bath-room, with its
closed door, promised security from quick ears and eyes to the brace of
conspirators now plotting their final blow.
Once in that belfry, and truly might the sense of Dante's famous
inscription become my motto for life: "Here hope is left behind."
I covered my eyes as I recalled that dreary, dreadful prison-house of
clock and bell, into which I had clambered once by means of a movable
step-ladder, rarely left there by the attendant, in order to rescue my
famished cat, shut up there by accident. I recollected the maddened look
of the creature, as it flew by me like a flash, frightened out of its
wits, Mrs. Austin had said, by the clicking of the machinery of the huge
clock, and the chiming of the responsive bell. Both were silent now, and
there was room enough for a prisoner's cot in that lonely and dismantled
turret as there once had been for a telescope and its rest, used for
astronomical purposes at long intervals by my father and a few of his
scientific friends, but finally dismantled and put aside forever.
I could imagine myself a denizen, at the will of Bainrothe, of that
weird, gray belfry, shut up with that silent clock, in company with a
bed, a chair, and table, denied, perchance, even the comfort of a stove,
for fear the flue might utter smoke, and, with it, that kind of
revelation, said proverbially to accompany such manifestations; denied
books, even writing-materials, the sight of a human face, and furnished
with food merely sufficing in quantity and quality to keep soul and body
together!
Could I resist this state of things? Could I sustain it and retain my
reason? No, I felt that the picture my fancy drew, if realized, would
make me abject and submissive, change me to a cowardly, cringing slave.
I was not made of the right stuff for martyrdom, only for battle, for
resistance, and would put forth my last powers in the effort to save
myself from the unendurable trials before me, even if destruction were
the consequence. A pistol-ball in my brain would he preferable to what I
saw awaiting me, should Bainrothe succeed in his stratagem, as I doubted
not he would do, if determined on it. I should know freedom in its true
sense never again, if that night were suffered to pass without its
redemption, if that belfry once were entered.
As carelessly as I could I followed Dinah to the bath-room, ostensibly
to direct the temperature of the water, but really to draw out from her
all that was possible while the mood of communication possessed her, on
the subject so vital to me and my welfare. Life and death almost were
involved in her revelations, and I hastened to wind in the clew while it
lingered in my hand; for I knew that she was an eccentric as well as a
selfish creature, and might suddenly see fit to withdraw or snap its
thread.
"Now, tell me about McDermot, Dinah, what sort of a look has he? Is he
large or small, light or dark, and does he smoke a pipe?"
"He is a great big man, honey, wid red har an' sort ob chaney-blue eyes;
mos while, sometimes he rolls em up in his head, an' he smells mighty
strong of whisky. I tells you all; his bref mos knocked me down, but I
didn't see no pipe?"
A discouraging account, truly; yet I persevered. It seemed my only hope
to enlist this man on my side, either through his sympathies or sense of
duty. I had no power to command his services on the side of his avarice.
The ring on my finger, the pledge of Wentworth's troth, a massive
circlet of chased gold, was all that remained to me in the shape of
valuables. I did not possess a stiver in that prison, nor own even the
clothes on my back.
"Could you not take him a message from me, Dinah? It is his duty, you
know, to assist me; it is on my account, doubtless, he is placed here;
and hereafter I can reward him liberally, and you too. Just now, you
know, I am penniless."
The woman stopped and looked at me, her small black irises mere points,
set in extensive, muddy-looking whites, not unfrequently suffused and
bloodshot.
"I dun told the ossifer dar wus no one here you knows, answerin' to your
perscription."
"But that was only a measure of safety for yourself; you surely do not
mean to take sides with my persecutors?"
"I has nuffin at all to do wid it, at all," hunching her back; "I has
gib you far warnin' 'bout de laudamy an' der retentions, an' you mus'
fight it out yourself, chile! I is afraid to go one step furder; but de
debble sort o' tempted me dis mornin' to make a clean breast of der
doins. Ef you mentions it, do; I is retermined to reny ebbery word of
your ramification, and in dis here country a nigger's word, dey tells
me, goes jus' as fur as a pore white gal's, if not furder; 'sides dat, I
is gwine to swar favorable for my 'ployers, in course, at de
court-house--unless"--hesitating and leering in my face--"you sees,
honey, dey have not paid me yit--and mebbe dey won't, ef I displeases
'em, an' your gole watch is gone; an' den, Dinah would be lef' on de
shelf."
"But I have other property, Dinah, other jewels, even. That watch was
very little compared to what I possess outside of these prison-walls,
and these possessions--"
"Whar is dey, honey? 'a bird in dis han' am worf two dozen in a bush,'
as my ole masta used to say, wen de traders cum up to buy his corn an'
cotton, an' I always sawed de dollars come down mighty quick after dat
sayin' of his'n; for I used to watch round the dinin'-room pretty
constant an' close in dem days, totin' in poplar-chips an' corn-cobs for
kin'lin' an' litin' masta's long clay pipes--none ob de common sort, I
tells you--an' brushin' up de harf an' keepin' off de flies, and so
forf. You see I was a little shaver in dem days, an' masta liked my
Congo straction, an' petted me a heap, an' I never seed the cotton-field
till my ole masta died; den dey put me out ob de house, because Mass
Jack Dillard's father--dat was my ole mistis's own step-brother's secon'
son--he 'cused me ob stealin' his gole pencil-case wrongfully--like I
had any use fur his writin' 'tensils!" (indignantly).
"Dinah," I adjured, cutting short the stream of her narrative, "for
God's sake, see Mr. McDermot, and tell him of my situation! He shall
have a thousand dollars to-morrow, and you also shall have money enough
to buy your whole family, and bring them hither, if you will but assist
me to escape _this_ night. Don't stand and look at me, woman, but act at
once, if you have a human heart. You must help me now, or never."
"You mus' tink I's one ob de born fools, Miss Mirimy, to bl'eve all dat
stuff! Doesn't I know you loss all your trunks on de 'Scusco, an' wasn't
you a pore gal, teachin' white folks's chilluns fur a livin' before? I
has hearn all dat discounted since I come into dis 'stablishment. We
all knows as how teachers is de meanest kine of white trash gwine;
still, I specs you might'ly. You has been ob de quality; any nigger can
see dat wid half an eye open; an' you has got more sense in de end ob yo
little finger, ef you is crazy, dan all de res tied up in a bunch ob
fedders! Wat I does for you, chile, I does for lub ob yo purliteness"
(hesitating here). "You hasn't anoder ob dem gole-pieces anywhar, like
dat you gib me befo', has you? I'se bery bad off fur 'baccer, I is,
indeed, chile, an' de pay is mighty slow in dis house."
"I have not a five-penny bit, Dinah, not one copper cent, if it were to
save my life or yours."
"Is dat ring of yours good guinea gole, honey?" asked the mercenary
creature, leering at it. "It looks mighty bright and pretty, it does
dat! But mebbe its nuffin but pinchbeck, after all."
"It looks what it is, Dinah"--and, after a moment's consideration, I
drew it from my finger. "If I give you this, will you promise to deliver
my message to McDermot faithfully?"
"Sartain sure, honey, but tell me again wat it is; I forgits de small
patticklers."
"Get me my pencil and a scrap of paper, and let me write it down for him
to read; or no, this might involve observation, detection. I must rely
upon your memory, Dinah, which I have reason to know is good. Now,
listen and understand me. I promise to Mr. McDermot one thousand
dollars, to be paid down to-morrow morning, if he will help me to escape
to-night. And I promise you liberty for all of your family, and security
for yourself, if you will assist me, or even be silent, and let me go
without a word, without informing. Do you understand this, Dinah? If so,
repeat it to me low, yet distinctly."
She obeyed me, evincing wonderful shrewdness in her way of putting the
affair, as she said she meant to do, in approaching McDermot.
"And do you believe me, Dinah, now that I have promised so solemnly to
pay these rewards?"
"Dats neider here nor dar, Miss Mirim, so dat McDermot bleves you, dat's
enough; wat dis chile bleves am her own business. Dem Irish am mighty
stupid kine ob creeturs; dey swallows down mos' any thing you chooses to
tell 'em."
A voice without, uplifted at this juncture, as if it had long been
expending itself in ineffectual appeals, now summoned Dinah, harshly and
emphatically.
The Lady Anastasia had departed, after a brief interview, and Mrs.
Clayton, unable to leave her bed, felt naturally anxious to ascertain
the cause of Dinah's prolonged ministry on her fellow-prisoner.
I heard only the words, "De pattikalerest lady I ebber come acrost about
de feel of water, an' I is done tired out, I is--" The rest was lost, as
Dinah vanished from the apartment of the invalid. In the next moment, I
heard the key turned, and the outlet bolt drawn, and the growl of the
surly sable watch-dog without, who, in Mrs. Raymond's absence,
officiated as our jailer and Cerberus.
It was early evening when Dinah returned, for she brought to us but two
meals at this season, the necessary food for Ernie being always ready in
a closet. She came ushered in, as usual, by Mrs. Raymond, who bore with
her on this occasion what she called savory broth, concocted, by her own
fair hands, for the benefit of her suffering parent. While Clayton was
employed in supping this mutton abomination, with a loud noise peculiar
to the vulgar, and Mrs. Raymond whispering inaudible words above the
bowl, I was ostensibly employed in tearing a croquet to pieces with my
fork, while I interrogated Dinah, in a low, even voice, between each
shred, unintelligible, I knew, in the next room, through its monotony,
on the success of her mission, and caught her muttered rather than
murmured replies eagerly in return.
"Did you speak with him, Dinah?"
"Dere was no use, honey; Bainrothe done bought him up. I peaked fru de
key-hole, and seen de gole paid down wid my own two precious eyes. Dar's
no mistake about dat," shaking her head dolefully. "All you has to do
now, honey, is to keep wide awake, an' duly sober, as ole masta used to
say, 'frain 'ligiously from de tea or coffee, one or de udder, dat she
will offer you 'bout eight o'clock dis ebenin', or mebbe dey will send
it up by me, I can't say yit. Howsomever, you needn't to drink dat stuff
arter wat you knows; an' ef dey goes to take you forcefully off to de
belfry in de night-time, you kin skreech ebbery step ob de way. Dat's de
bes plan, chile, wat I kin project for your resistance; but I'se afeard
dar is no hopin' you, any way we can fix it."
"Thank you, Dinah, you have done your best, no doubt; don't sell my
ring, though; I shall want it back some day."
"La, chile, I done 'sposed ob it aready, an' dey give me a poun of
backer an' a gole-piece fur it. It was good gole an' no mistake. I tells
you all," adding aloud, "an' now, Miss Mirim, I has tole you ebbery
syllable. I disremembered ob dat speritual ar. I is sorry you doesn't
like dese crockets, fur de madame made un wid her own clean red hands."
"Say white hands, you old limb of Satan, or I shall be after you with a
mop," cried the laughing voice of Mrs. Raymond from the side of the sick
woman's bed, betraying at once how she had divided her attention. Then,
advancing into my chamber, she added, as coolly as though she had been
suggesting a visit to the theatre:
"Excuse me, Miss Monfort, for intruding, but I am about to ask you
whether it would be agreeable to you to be married to-night at ten
o'clock? This seems very sudden, but circumstances have forced the
arrangement on us all, and I assure you, from the bottom of my heart, it
is for both of us the preferable alternative of evils, as poor Sir Harry
Raymond would have said. Alas, my dear! shall I ever again have such a
helpmate as he was: so kind, so generous, so considerate"--and she
clasped and wrung her large, rosy hands. "A second marriage is often a
great sacrifice, and, in any case, a hazard, as I feel, as the time
draws near, very sensibly. But you seem confounded, and yet you must
have been somewhat prepared for this condition of things after your last
interview with Dr. Englehart?"
The amazement of Dinah at this change in the programme, if possible,
exceeded my own. She did not understand, as I did, that it was a measure
prompted not only by humanity but self-interest, and that even the hard
heart of Basil Bainrothe preferred a compromise to such violence and
injustice as those he had otherwise meditated. Besides, what better or
more sensible mode than this could there be, according to his views, of
quashing the whole _esclandre_--quieting official inquiry as well as
public indignation? As the wife of Gregory, I should be, of course,
_forcat_ for life, walking abroad with the concealed brand and manacle,
afraid and ashamed to complain and acknowledge my condition, and
willing to condone every thing.
I saw, at a glance, that my true policy was to feign a reluctant consent
to this proposition, and to determine later what recourse to take, as if
indeed any remained to me in that den of serpents. I would consider, as
soon as Mrs. Raymond was gone, what measures to pursue in order to elude
the vigilance of McDermot, the detective; and then, if all proved vain,
I could but perish! For I would have walked cheerfully over the burning
ploughshares of old, lived again through the hideous nightmare of the
burning ship and raft, nay, clasped hands with the spectre of La Vigne
himself, had it offered to lead me to purgatory, rather than have
married the knave, the liar, the half-breed Gregory!
My resolution was soon made.
"You will send me a suitable dress, I suppose," I said, calmly, "you
know I am a pauper here."
"Yes, fortunately I have two almost alike. Which shall it be, a chally
or barege?"
"It matters little, the color is all I care for. Let it be white; I have
a superstition about being married in colors."
"So should I have, were this the first time, but, being a widow, I shall
wear a lavender-satin, trimmed with blond, made up for a very different
occasion."
"Yes, that will be quite suitable. Well, the long agony is over at last,
and I am glad of it," and I drew a deep, free breath.
"You will have to sign the papers before you come down-stairs. Mr.
Bainrothe told me to say this to you, and to ask you to have them ready;
they will be witnessed below with the marriage, and at nine,
_precisely_, expect me to appear with your gown, and make your toilet."
"Will not Bridget Maloney do as well?" I asked, desperately. She, at
least, I thought, may be compassionate.
"It is strange you should know of her at all, or she of you. It is that
girl, then, who has given us all this trouble," going to the bed, "when
I did not suppose she knew of her existence. Explain this, Clayton, if
you can."
"I suppose Ernie, who is fond of her, has mentioned her name to Miss
Monfort; she thinks his mother is sick up-stairs, but knows no more, I
am certain; besides, it's Dr. Englehart's establishment--such things are
to be expected, and surprise no one of the attendants. Bridget is kept
busy among them all." The farce was to be kept up, it seemed, to the
end.
Old Dinah was evidently quaking in her shoes, and began to see her
error, as she glanced reproachfully at me, but no further revelation
seemed to be expected. It was, indeed, to divert, partly, immediate
suspicion from one I still hoped to make my tool, that I mentioned the
Irish girl at all, or craved her presence, but I soon found how futile
in one instance was this trust. No sooner had Mrs. Raymond turned to
depart, than Dinah followed her, protesting against being locked up the
whole evening with the invalid, and begging leave to go out for an hour
or two on business of her own, which she declared important.
"But Miss Monfort may need you in making her preparations," remonstrated
Mrs. Raymond, "and Clayton and Ernie will want your attention; besides,
fires will go down if not constantly mended, this cold evening."
"Dar's plenty of coal in de box, an' de tongs, wid claws, wat Ernie is
so fond of handlin', ready and waitin' for dem wat's strong enough to
use dem if dey choose, an' tea in de caddy, an' de kittle on de trivet,
jes filled up, de brass toastin'-fork on de peg in de closet, 'sides
bread an' butter, an' jam, an' new milk on de shelf, an' I is 'bliged to
go anyway, case my ticklerest friend am dyin' ob de numony--I is jes got
word; but at nine o'clock" (and she looked maliciously at me) "percisely
Dinah 'll be in dis pickin' patch--he! he! he! can't possumbly cum no
airlier."
In a flash I saw the advantage her prolonged absence would give me,
unless, indeed, she had become my confederate, so I beheld her depart
with a feeling of relief which reacted in the next moment to positive
helplessness and terror as the bolt was drawn behind her. What could I
do? What was there to be done? For a time I sat mute and crushed by
consideration; then casting myself on my bed I slept for half an hour,
the kind of slumber that confusion generates, and yet I woke refreshed,
calmed, comforted, and with a clearly-formed resolution and plan of
action. I rose and approached Mrs. Clayton, whose groans, perhaps,
aroused me, and, as I stood beside her bed, the clock in the dining room
below struck six. I had still three hours for hope--for endeavor, before
the circle of flame should close hopelessly around me forever! Three
hours--were they not enough? Could I not compel them to concentration?
A cup of strong tea was hastily drawn and swallowed--another made for,
and administered by my hand to, Mrs. Clayton, with toast _ad
libitum_,--a tedious process--and afterward Ernie's supper prepared and
eaten--all in less than half an hour. By seven he was in bed and asleep,
and I had taken my seat by Mrs. Clayton, for the purpose, apparently, of
merciful ministry to her condition--a piece of self-abnegation, as it
seemed, and as she felt it, scarcely to be expected on my blissful
marriage night.
"I feel very sorry for you; you suffer so, Mrs. Clayton," I had said, as
I drew a chair beside her bed.
"And I for you, Miss Monfort; our fate seems equally hard, but we must
bear it;" and she groaned heavily and closed her eyes, evidently in
great pain.
"I have come to that conclusion, also, after a bitter struggle; physical
pain is not so easily borne, however; the body has little philosophy."
"I thought all this was over," she rejoined, abstractedly, "when my
hands were drawn as you see them by neuralgia ten years since. But I did
not suffer as much then, I believe, as I do now; besides, I was younger,
happier, better able to bear pain."
"Yes, that is true; the old should be at rest," at least my sense of
justice whispered this; then, after a pause: "Does my rubbing ease your
shoulder, Mrs. Clayton?"
"Somewhat--it is my head to-night, however, that troubles me chiefly. Be
good enough to press my temples. Ah, that is great relief! You are very
kind, Miss Monfort; yet, in reviewing the past, I hope you will not find
that I have been wanting to you in my turn. I trust we shall part in
peace and meet hereafter as friends. But you do not answer me."
"Pardon me, I was thinking. This is a crisis, you know--this night
decides my fate for good or ill, all rests with merciful God!"
"Yes, all--of ourselves we are helpless, of course. It is a comfort to
me, I confess, as I lie here, to feel that I have never willingly
injured a fellow-being; to think that I--but, bless my soul, Miss
Monfort, you must not hold me down in that way! you would not, I trust.
But even if you did--no key this time, the door is fast without!"
"Oh, not for worlds! be still, the pain will pass. I have the gift, you
know, of soothing physical suffering. There, rest, you must not stir;
give yourself up to me, if you can--slumber will come."
"It must not come--see, we are all alone!"
Her glazing eye--her slower breathing began already to attest the
influence of the electric fluid, so potent in my veins, so wanting in
her own, both from temperament and disease, yet she resisted bravely and
long, and, even when her limbs were powerless, her spirit rebelled
against me in murmured words of defiant opposition; but this, too,
yielded finally to silence and to stupor; and she slept the deep, calm,
unmistakable slumber caused by magnetism.
Then, again, I went through the experiment of the preceding night, and
strove to awaken her.
"Get up," I said, and yet without willing that she should do so. "Mrs.
Raymond is here to show you her marriage-dress, and Mr. Bainrothe
calls."
"Tell them to let me sleep; don't--don't--disturb me. I am so happy--so
peaceful. It is sweet, too, to think that she will be married at last.
Poor thing! it was no fault of hers, though--no fault. A young actress
is exposed to so many temptations, and it was better so--Harry Raymond's
mistress."
That secret would never have escaped her devoted lips had she been able
to retain it.
As carefully as the eyes of the dead are closed, I drew down her gaping
lids, and turned away. As I did so, the clock struck eight. Fatima never
listened more anxiously to the toll of parting time than I did that
night; but, alas for me! no sister Anne kept watch on the tower; no
brother hastened to arrest the sword. I was deserted by all save God and
desperation. One hour comprised my fate! Very quietly I closed the door
between Mrs. Clayton's room and my own. The bolt was on the other side,
so I could not secure my privacy, even for a moment, should she chance
to wake, or should Mrs. Raymond or Dinah return unexpectedly. As rapidly
as I could, I altered my dress--this time above my clothes--threw on the
black silk frock and mantilla prepared for me on shipboard, tied a dark
veil over my head, an old woolen scarf about my throat, provided for
Ernie's sore-throat and croup, and stood equipped for my enterprise.
Neither bonnet, nor gloves, nor boots, did I possess--Mrs. Raymond's
loan having long since been condoned on behalf of some one else, and my
clothing, in my captivity, had been contrived to suit my circumstances.
Wheeling the bedstead very gently on its noiseless castors a few inches
from the wall, I insinuated myself between them, and, sheltered by the
head-board, loosened again the slightly-adhering covering of paper that
concealed the door, and fitted into the key-hole the well-oiled wooden
key, which once before had proved its efficiency. It did not fail me
now, in my hour of extremity, for a moment later I had turned and
removed it from its socket, stepped forth upon the landing, and relocked
without the door of my prison; but, perhaps, with too much of nervous
haste, too little caution, for, to my inexpressible confusion, the
handle of the instrument of my emancipation remained in my hand, broken
off at the lock, and useless forever more.
In delaying probable pursuit from within, I had cut off all possibility
of my own retreat in case of failure. My bridges were literally burned
behind me, and I had no alternative left between flight and detection.
And yet there was something in the situation that, inconsistently
enough, made me smile, albeit with a trembling heart.
I shook my head drearily, as a couplet from Collins's "Camel-Driver,"
with its strange appropriateness, irresistibly crossed my brain.
Why is it that, in times like these, such conceits beset us, such
comparisons arise? Does the quality called presence of mind find root in
the same source that impels us to apt quotation?--
"What if the lion in his rage I meet?
Oft in the dust I see his printed feet."
I gained fresh heart from that trivial diversion of thought, and stood
quietly contemplating alternately the hall below and that above (both of
which were visible from my place on the intermediate platform; all was
still in both of these wide corridors), to make sure of the safety of my
enterprise; and now, once more my foot was on the brink of those
mysterious stairs which led, I felt, to doom or to liberty. I commenced,
very cautiously, to descend them. The study-door at their foot was
closed, and all seemed silent within. The murmur of voices, and the
remote rattling of china proceeding from the ell behind the hall,
encouraged me to believe that on this bitter night the family was
concentrated, for greater comfort, in the supper-room.
With my hand on the baluster, pausing at every step, I crept quietly
down the stairway; then, as if my feet were suddenly winged with terror,
I darted by the study-door, flew lightly over the carpeted hall, and
found myself, in another moment, secure within, the small enclosed
vestibule into which the door of entrance gave. My worst misgivings had
never compassed the terrific truth. At this early hour of the evening,
not only was the front door locked, but the key had been withdrawn. This
was despair.
My knees gave way beneath me, and I sank like a flaccid heap in the
corner, against one of the leaves of the small folding-door that divided
the arched vestibule from the long entry, and which was secured to the
floor by a bolt, while the other one was thrown back. Crouched in the
shadow, powerless to move or think, I heard, with inexpressible terror,
the door of the study open, and the voice and step of Bainrothe in the
hall, approaching me.
Had he heard me? Would he come? Was I betrayed?
I felt my hair rise on my head as these questions rang like a tocsin
through my brain, and I think, at that moment, I had a foretaste of the
chief agony of death.
They were answered by Bainrothe himself, as he paused midway between the
study-door and my place of refuge; and again I breathed--I lived.
"I was mistaken, 'Stasia, it is not he! the wind, probably; and that
marble looks so cold--so uninviting--I shall not explore it. He has a
key, you know, and can come when he likes; for my part, I shall go in to
supper while the oysters are hot. Do as you like, though."
"Had we not better wait? You know he is sure to come to-night, bad as
the weather is, on account of that affair. It was late when Wentworth
notified him."
This was the rejoinder made from within the study, in which I
recognized the voice of Mrs. Raymond, clear and shrill.
"Well, have it as you please. If you prefer courtesy to comfort, you
shall be gratified; but what's the use of ceremony with Gregory? He will
be here in twenty minutes, Mr. Bainrothe; but don't wait. I shall have
time to sup with him before I go up-stairs, you know. I believe I will
stay where I am until he comes, and finish taking in the poor thing's
wedding-gown. Well, any thing is better than removal to the belfry"--and
I thought I heard a sigh.
"A matter of mere temporary necessity, you know, only she might have
frozen in the interval," said Bainrothe, jauntily, as he walked up the
hall to the door of the dining-room, which I heard him open and let fall
against its sill again. It closed with a spring, and in the next moment
the study-door was also softly shut, and all was still.
My resolution was promptly taken. The folding leaves of the inner
door--that which divided the marble-paved vestibule from the carpeted
entry--against one of which I had been leaning, I well knew worked to
and fro on pulleys which obeyed the drawing of a cord and tassel hanging
at one side, and thus they could readily be closed with a touch by any
one standing in the vestibule as they opened out into the hall on which
side was the latch and bolt. I recalled this quaint arrangement with a
quickness born of emergency, as one that might serve me now, and
speadily possessed myself of the tassel at the extremity of the
controlling cord. Thus armed, and praying inwardly for strength and
courage, and wherewith to carry out my scheme successfully, I took my
stand in one of the two niches (just large enough for the purpose) in
the door-frame, preferring, of course, that next to the lock, prepared
to darken the vestibule at the first approach of the expected guest (I
was afraid to do it before, lest attention might be called to it from
within the house), and make my escape by rushing past him ere he could
recover himself as he entered in the gloom.
The hazard was extreme, the result uncertain, the effort almost
foolhardy, it may be thought; but the storm and darkness were in my
favor, and I was fleet of foot, as were not all of my pursuers, as far
as I could foresee who these might be.
Momently I grew cooler, more determined, more calm, more desperate, more
regardless of consequences; and now the culmination of endeavor
approached in the shape of the sound of stamping feet upon the icy
platform of the steps which they had softly ascended, and the uncertain
fitting of a dead-latch key in its dark socket, the feeling for the knob
with half-frozen fingers, and finally the sudden and violent throwing
forward and open of the door into the darkened vestibule, for I had
drawn the cord at the first symptoms of Gregory's advent, which yet took
me by surprise. I had closed the inner doors, it is true, but paralyzed
with sudden terror I had taken no advantage of the darkness thus evoked,
and, as the tall form of the expected and expectant bridegroom staggered
in, literally blown forward by the tempest, with introverted umbrella,
and wet and streaming garments (dimly discerned in the gloom) that
brushed against me as he passed, I continued to stand transfixed to
stone in the niche I still occupied.
The dream in which La Vigne had prophesied my failure flashed over me
like lightning, and my knees trembled beneath me, yet I still clung
spasmodically to the cord I held, and with such desperate force that,
when Gregory pushed against the door, he believed it latched within, and
so desisted from further effort.
"Dark as Erebus," he muttered, "and on such a night! Confound such
hospitality! I suppose I must go back and ring;" and in pursuance of
this idea he again suddenly opened the front-door, which, swinging
violently back as he turned his face within, once more afforded me the
golden opportunity so lately lost. Quick as thought I dropped the cord I
held, and in the sudden gust the leaves of the inner door, thus
released, flew open and impelled my foe irresistibly forward. With his
flapping coat and hat he drifted into the lighted hall before the
driving blast, and, roused to instantaneous action, I slid from the
niche I filled to the icy platform without, and swift and silent as a
spectre sped down the sleety steps to the outward darkness. I was free!
A moment after, I heard the door slammed heavily after me, while I
crouched by the gate-post for concealment.
Rising up, I mutely blessed the friendly portal that made me an outcast
in the storm-swept streets from which the very dogs shrank terrified.
One moment, one only, I paused as I passed by my father's gate-way,
crowned with stone lions that glimmered in the gloom. The force of
association and of contrast shook me with emotion--I could not enter
there. My own roof afforded me no shelter from the biting blast; but
squares away, with a comparative stranger, I must seek (if I ever gained
it on that dreadful night) a refuge from the storms and sure protection
from my foes.
I moved rapidly along toward the tall street-lamp that diffused a dim
and murky light from its frost crusted lantern at the corner of the
square, and before I reached it I encountered the first danger of my
undertaking.
Protected, fortunately, by the shadow of the high stone-wall near which
I walked rapidly, I met Dinah, so nearly face to face that the whiff of
the pipe she was smoking was warm upon my cheek. Wrapped in her old
cloth shawl and quilted hood, she muttered as she went, and staggered
too, I thought, though here the northeast wind, that swept her along
before it, might have been at fault, while, blowing in my face, it
retarded my progress.
I passed her unchallenged, but, glancing back just as I turned the
corner, I became aware that she was retracing her steps. I fled rapidly
on until I reached the shelter of a friendly nook between two houses
(well remembered of old), when, turning again to gaze, I saw her
standing immovable as a statue beneath the lamp-post, evidently looking
in the direction I had taken. There seemed no way of escape now save in
persistent flight. My place of concealment might be too readily detected
by a cautious observer, a savage on the war-trail. Should Dinah herself
pursue me, I knew my speed would distance her; but, that prompt pursuit
of some kind was imminent, I knew from that moment.
My aim was to reach the house of Dr. Pemberton, no intermediate one
presenting itself as that of an acquaintance of whom I could ask
shelter, and belief in the truth of my assertions. Of this house I
remembered the position with tolerable accuracy. It formed one, I knew,
of a long block of buildings extending from one street to another, and
was near the centre.
I had been there only on rare occasions, when his niece abode with him,
for he dwelt ordinarily in widowed solitude, although our intimacy was
that of relatives rather than of patient and physician.
For this desired goal I strained every nerve, every muscle, every
faculty, on that never-to-be-forgotten night of bitter, freezing cold,
and driving sleet and blast, which seemed to proclaim itself, in every
howling gust, "The wind Euroclydon!"