"I PLAYED AND I LOST."
Roseleaf did not immediately reply. He busied himself by tying his horse
to a tree, taking particular pains to make the knot good and strong. He
apparently wanted a little time to think what form of words to use.
"I want you to see something that will interest you," he said, finally,
in the lowest tone that could well be heard. "If you will follow my
example and accompany me some distance further I think you will be paid
for your trouble."
Mr. Weil was pale. He felt certain that this strange visit had been
premeditated, and that some revelation regarding the Fern family was
about to be made. The dread of an unknown possibility for which he had
no preparation--affecting the girl for whom he had so deep a
love--unmanned him.
"I have a right to ask you to explain," he responded. "If your statement
is satisfactory I will accompany you gladly. I do not see the need of
any mystery in the matter."
The younger man drew a long breath and looked abstractedly at the ground
for some moments. Then he spoke again:
"There are subjects," he said, "that one does not like to discuss. There
are names that one hesitates to pronounce. If you will tie your horse
and go with me, your eyes and ears will make questions unnecessary."
A momentary suspicion flashed through the mind of the other--a suspicion
that he was being beguiled to this lonely spot from a sinister motive
that boded his safety no good. But it was immediately dismissed, and
after another second of delay, Archie slipped from his saddle and
followed the example of his companion.
"Lead on," he said, laconically.
Without waiting for a second invitation, Roseleaf began to penetrate the
wood. He found a footpath, after going a short distance, and crept along
it slowly, taking evident pains not to make unnecessary noise. They were
going in the direction of Oakhurst, and in less than ten minutes the
chimneys of that residence could be seen in front of them. A little
further and Roseleaf stopped, placing himself in the attitude of an
attentive listener.
The silence was profound. A slight chill permeated the atmosphere, but
neither of the prowlers felt cold. On the contrary, perspiration covered
the bodies of both of them. Roseleaf went, very slowly, along the path,
till he came near a fence, and then, diverging from it, drew himself
quietly into a thick copse, motioning Weil to follow. Here the leader
sank to the ground, with a motion which indicated that the journey was
temporarily, at least, at an end, and the second member of the party
followed his example.
Half an hour passed with nothing to indicate the reason for these most
peculiar actions. Half an hour that was interminable to Mr. Weil, torn
with a thousand fears as to what it might all portend. At last, however,
a faint sound broke the stillness. Some one was approaching. Roseleaf
touched the shoulder of his companion to indicate the necessity of
absolute silence.
Hardly ten feet away there passed a tall, athletic form, walking with a
quick stride, as of one who has no suspicion that he is watched by
unfriendly eyes. As the man's face became visible in the moonlight it
was well that Roseleaf had a pressure of warning on his companion's
shoulder. It was almost impossible for the latter to restrain an
exclamation that would have ruined everything.
It was the face of Hannibal, the negro!
Horrified, Archie turned his bloodshot eyes toward Roseleaf. What could
this strange visit of Hannibal's to that vicinity presage? Did he intend
to murder the master of the house and abduct the daughter? What was he
doing there, at an hour not much short of midnight? The terrors of his
previous imaginings gave way to yet more horrible ones.
But the mute appeal that he shot at his companion produced no answer,
except a resolute shake of the head--an absolute prohibition against
the least sound or movement.
Hannibal reached the fence and, without any attempt at concealment,
climbed over it into the enclosure where were situated the house and
outbuildings of the Oakhurst estate. He acted like one who knows his
ground and has no occasion to pick his way. He went, however, but a
little farther in the direction of the residence. In a place where the
shadow of a smokehouse hid him from the possible view of any one looking
from the windows, he waited in an attitude of expectation.
The difficulty of controlling himself grew stronger and stronger for
Archie Weil. He wanted to end this terrible doubt--to spring over that
fence, pinion this fellow by the throat and demand what business he had
on those premises at that hour. Roseleaf realized all that was passing
in his mind, and kept his hand still on his shoulder, at the same time
warning him by signs that the least movement would ruin everything. It
seemed to Archie, when he thought it over afterward, that he had never
endured such pain. He knew beyond reasonable doubt that Hannibal was
awaiting some one by appointment. Who could it be? That was the
stupendous question that Roseleaf might have answered in a whisper, but
that he preferred for some mysterious reason his friend should discover
in the natural course of events. And that course was horribly,
torturously slow!
Everything has an end, and the dread of the watcher changed to another
feeling as he saw distinctly one of the outer doors of the residence
open and Daisy Fern's form come out. Without glancing to the right or
the left she walked in the direction where the negro was waiting. For an
instant, overcome by his apprehensions, Archie closed both his eyes in
despair. The voice of Roseleaf was at last heard in his ear, a whisper
nearly inaudible, conjuring him not to betray his presence whatever the
provocation.
When Archie opened his eyes again he saw that Hannibal stood in an
attitude of respect. When the girl approached he bowed, without offering
any more intimate courtesy. Daisy had the look of one who has made up
her mind to endure an unpleasant interview and desires to end it as
quickly as possible.
"Well?" she said, in a low tone.
"I am going to-morrow," he replied, in a voice that shook with emotion.
"Yes."
"And, as I told you, I want to say good-by once more."
Archie breathed a trifle easier. He could not tell what fears had
crowded upon him--they were indistinct in their horribleness--but some
of them had already flown.
"You are as cold as ever," continued the rich voice of the negro, in a
cadence that was meant to be reproachful.
"Do you think I could be anything else?" was the quick reply, as if
forced from lips that had meant to remain silent. "Has your conduct been
such as to make me like or respect you?"
The negro's eyes fell before her indignant gaze.
"No," he answered, humbly. "I expect nothing; I ask nothing. I can see
my mistakes now. And yet, it would have been no different had I played
the part of an angel toward you. The entire question with you was
settled in advance by the fact that my skin was black."
The pressure on Weil's shoulder grew heavier, from time to time, as his
companion realized his temptation to break from his covert.
"If it had been as white as any man's who ever lived," replied Daisy,
boldly, "your conduct would have earned the contempt of a
self-respecting person! A blackmailer, an abductor, a conspirator
against the peace of mind of an old man and a young girl who never
harmed you! I wonder you can talk of other reasons when you created so
many by your wicked acts!"
Hannibal shrugged his shoulders.
"It is true, nevertheless," he replied. "I am a negro. In a moment of
insanity I dreamed I was a Man! I dreamed I might gain for my wife a
woman whose ancestors had been born in a more northerly clime than my
own. To gain that end I took the only course that seemed open. I
possessed myself of an influence that would make her father fear me.
Well, I played and I lost--and then, like other players and losers, even
white ones, I was desperate. You were to be married to another--a man I
hated. Life had lost its only charm, I could not bear that you should be
his bride. My torture was intense. I asked but for death."
These revelations, so novel to at least one of the listeners, smote him
with terrific force.
"You asked for more!" said the girl, hoarsely. "You asked for my death
as well as your own. And you wanted me to die in such a situation that
all the world would say I had perished willingly with you. Could
anything more cowardly be conceived! Was anything more dastardly ever
devised! It was the morning of my wedding day; my father was waiting for
me at home; my promised husband was preparing for the bridal; my friends
were invited to the ceremony. What were all these to you? With
Mephistophelian cunning you sent me a letter in another person's
handwriting, saying that, if I would come to a certain address, and pay
fifty dollars, several forged notes given by my father would be returned
to me. You knew I would respond. You knew I would tell no one where I
was going, as I did not expect to be detained more than an hour, and
there was apparently the strongest reasons for secrecy. And when I was
completely in your clutches you gave me the alternative of _marrying_
you--ugh!--or of taking the poison you had so carefully prepared. Oh,
how _could_ you! how _could_ you, when you professed to _like_ me!"
There was a low gurgle in Archie Weil's throat, that he could not
suppress. Fearful that it might be heard in that dead silence, Roseleaf
shook his companion slightly. Mingled with his other emotions there now
came to Weil a stupefied wonder at the apparent coolness of the
novelist.
"When one is willing to die for his love, it should not be questioned,"
said the negro. "I could not have you in life--I wanted you in death. I
wanted the world, which had despised me, to think a beautiful woman had
preferred to die with me rather than marry a man she did not wish to
wed. But why should we recall that dreadful day and night? You won the
victory. You, with your superior finesse, triumphed over the African as
your race has always triumphed over mine. I demanded love or death. You
dissuaded me from both. And the next day I permitted you to depart, and
saw vanish with you the last hope of happiness I shall ever feel."
The rich voice of the speaker broke completely at the close, but the
girl who heard him seemed to feel no sympathy for his distress.
"Always yourself!" she exclaimed. "Do you ever think of the life you
left to _me_--a life hardly more kind than the murder you contemplated.
Before you opened the portals that you had meant for my tomb you made me
swear never to reveal where I had passed those hours. Never, no matter
what the provocation, was I to utter one word to implicate you in the
tragedy that had ruined two households. _You_ were the one to be
protected--_I_ the one to suffer! Had it not been for the sacrifice to
my reputation in being found there with you dead--no explanation being
possible from my closed lips--I would have accepted the alternative and
swallowed the poison rather than live to bear what I do to-day!"
Weil closed his eyes again. His brain was swimming.
"And you are sure," asked the negro, after a pause, "that you have not
violated that promise? You can still swear that you have never, even by
a hint, given the least cause of suspicion against me?"
"Never!" said the girl. "I consider my oath binding, notwithstanding the
manner in which it was obtained. You may live in what peace your
conscience allows you, free at least from that fear."
The negro evidently believed her, for he heaved a sigh of relief.
"Well, good-by," he said.
"Good-by," she replied. "And--you are not to come again, remember. There
is nothing to be gained from another meeting between us. If--if you want
money--I can send it to you."
He lifted his head rather proudly at the last suggestion.
"I do not want any," he said. "I am not low enough for that. I took the
sum from you to go to France, because I hoped--in my infatuation--that I
could make myself something that you would not despise. If I had wanted
money I could have got thousands out of your father, and I could still,
notwithstanding the pretence of those men that they wrote the signatures
I saw him forge. No, I mean to give you back what I had from you, if
ever I can compose my mind enough to go to work and earn it. I have no
ambition. I stay in my mother's cabin, day after day, unable to make the
least effort. Perhaps I can do something--in time."
The negro took a step away, and then turned, as if unable to go so
abruptly.
"Good-by," he said, again.
"Good-by," answered Daisy, impassively. "I want to tell you, now I think
of it, where I got that $1,000 I gave you. It was lent to me by the man
you hated so, Mr. Roseleaf."
Hannibal did not seem to care for this information.
"He did not lend it for any good-will to me," he replied. "I have heard,
by-the-way, that he did not mind losing you--this man for whom you
spurned a heart that worshiped your very footprints. I believe some day
I'll take a shot at him."
The girl shuddered.
"It would be like you," she said, "if no one was looking, and he did not
know of your presence. I don't believe, with all your claims, there is a
manly trait in you."
The tall form drew itself up and the athletic arms were folded firmly.
"Take care!" said the red lips, sharply, and the ivory white teeth
gleamed.
"Oh, I am not afraid," replied Daisy. "My maid is watching us from
behind the blinds of my room. I told her my own story about why I was to
meet you, but should harm happen to me the alarm bell would ring out."
Startled visibly at this information, Hannibal glanced in the direction
indicated, and then began to take his departure in earnest.
"All right," he said, as he mounted the fence. "Keep your word and I'll
keep mine. But if you play any tricks, remember that's a game for two."
The men could not arise without startling Daisy, who would undoubtedly
have uttered a loud scream had they suddenly appeared before her vision.
They saw her stand there for at least ten minutes, before she went into
the house. When she was out of sight, Weil crawled into a safer place
and rose to his feet.
"I am going to follow that cur!" he muttered, between his teeth.
"To-morrow is soon enough," was the calm reply of his friend. "I know
where he lives."