THE SWEET AND TENDER LETTERS THAT SUDDENLY CEASED TO COME.
Gerelda Northrup neither spoke nor stirred.
"You drew me on--ay, up to the very last moment--or this would never
have happened. I come of a desperate race, Gerelda," he went on,
huskily, "and when you showed me so plainly that you still liked my
society, even after you had plighted your troth to another, I clung to
the mad idea that there was yet hope for me, if we were far away from
those who might come between us. On this lone island we will be all the
world to each other--'the world forgetting, by the world forgot.' Marry
me, Gerelda, and I will be your veritable slave!"
He never forgot the look she turned upon him.
"When your anger has had time to cool, you will forgive me, my darling,"
he pleaded, "and then I am sure you will not say me nay when I beg for
your heart and hand. I shall not force you into a marriage. I will wait
patiently until you come to me and say: 'Robert, I am willing to marry
you!'"
He remembered how she had turned from him in bitter anger and scorn too
terrible for any words. He had given her over into the hands of Marie,
the little French maid.
She offered no resistance as the girl took her hand and led her into the
house; but there was a look on her face that boded no good, while the
words she had uttered rang in his ears: "I shall never speak again until
you set me free!"
Twice she had made the attempt, during the forty-eight hours which
followed, to take her own life, and both times he had prevented her.
Even in those thrilling moments she had never uttered a word. She kept
her vow, and Captain Frazier was beside himself at the turn affairs had
taken.
But what else could he have done, under the circumstances? He could not
stand by and see her made the bride of another.
Only that day, by the merest chance, Frazier had found out about Hubert
Varrick practically adopting the village beauty--saucy little Jessie
Bain--and that he had secretly sent her to a private school, to be
educated at his own expense, and he lost no time in communicating this
startling news to Gerelda, and giving her proof positive of the truth of
this statement.
He saw her face turn deathly white, and he knew that the arrow of bitter
jealousy had struck home; but even then she uttered no word. But when
darkness gathered she stole out into the grounds, and tried to end it
all then and there, and she would have succeeded but for his timely
happening upon the scene at the very moment that the flash-light had
shone so suddenly upon her.
Yes, the story concerning Jessie Bain had come like a thunder-bolt to
Gerelda Northrup. She had fallen on her face in the long green grass,
and was carried into the house in a dead faint.
Only heaven knew what she suffered when consciousness came to her. She
was almost mad with terror at finding herself snatched from the arms of
her lover at the very altar--kidnapped in this most outrageous manner.
She pictured her bridegroom's wild agony when he returned with the glass
of wine which he had hurried after, and found her missing.
But the knowledge that he had consoled himself so quickly by taking an
interest in some other girl almost took her breath away. Then she sent a
note to Captain Frazier. It contained but a few words, but they were
enough to send him into the seventh heaven of delight. They read as
follows:
"Prove to me, beyond all shadow of a doubt, that Hubert Varrick is
really in love with the rustic little village maid you speak of to such
an extent that he has secretly undertaken the care of her future, and,
madly as I love him, I will give him up and marry you within six months
from this time. But, in the meantime, you must return me at once to my
home and friends. This much I promise you: I shall not see Hubert
Varrick until this matter has been cleared up."
To this note Frazier sent back hurried word that she should have all the
proof of Hubert Varrick's perfidy that she might ask.
There was but one thing which it was impossible to do, and that was to
set her free during the six months' probation.
This was impossible. He could not do it; he loved her too madly. He
would go away, if she liked, and leave her to reign "queen of the isle."
She should have everything which heart desired--everything save
permission to leave the place.
To this Gerelda was forced to submit.
"If I were convinced that Hubert Varrick loved another, life would be
all over for me," she moaned again and again.
Meanwhile, as days and weeks rolled by, and no tidings reached Hubert
Varrick of the bride who, he supposed, had deserted him at the very
altar, his heart grew bitter against Gerelda.
He plunged into his practice of law, with the wild hope that he might
forget her.
The only diversity that entered his life was the letters which he
received from little Jessie Bain.
Girl-like, she wrote to him every day.
"I do wish you would adopt me, guardy," she wrote one day, "and bring me
home; I am so tired of this place. The principal always calls upon me to
look after all the little young fry in his school. Morning and night I
have to hear their prayers and hunt the shoes and stockings that they
throw at one another across the dormitory. Each one denies the throwing,
and I slap every one of them right and left, to be sure to get the right
one. I'm sick and tired of books. I wish I could come to you."
Suddenly the letters ceased, and, to Varrick's consternation, a week
passed without his hearing one word from little Jessie Bain, and he
never knew until then, how deep a hold the girl had on the threads that
were woven into his daily life.
In his loneliness he turned to the letters, and read and reread them. It
was like balm to his sore heart to find in them such outpourings of love
and devotion.
Was she ill? Perhaps some lover had crossed her path.
The thought worried him. He was just on the point of telegraphing, when
suddenly there was a rustling sound at the open French window, a swish
of skirts behind him, and the next instant a pair of arms were thrown
about his neck.
"Now don't scold me, guardy--please don't! I am going to own up to the
truth right here and now. I ran away. I couldn't help it, I got so tired
of hooking young ones' dresses and hearing their prayers."
With an assumption of dignity, Hubert Varrick unwound the girl's arms
from about his neck. But somehow they had sent a strange thrill through
his whole being, just such a thrill as he had experienced during the
hour in which he had asked Gerelda to be his wife, and she had answered
in the affirmative.
He tried to hold her off at arm's-length, but she only clung to him the
more, giving him a rapturous kiss of greeting.
The story of little Jessie Bain had been the only one which Hubert
Varrick had kept from his mother.
It seemed amusing, he had told himself repeatedly, for a young man of
five-and-twenty to be guardian, as it were, to a young girl of
sixteen--that sweet, subtle, dangerous age "where childhood and
womanhood meet."
"Aren't you glad to see me, Mr. Varrick?" cried Jessie.
"Glad?" Hubert Varrick's face lighted up, and before he was aware of the
action, he had drawn her into his encircling arms, bent his dark,
handsome head, and kissed the rosy mouth so dangerously near his own.
There was a sound as of a groan, from the door-way, followed by a
muffled shriek, and raising his eyes in startled horror, Hubert Varrick
saw his lady-mother standing on the threshold, her jeweled hands parting
the satin _portieres_.
"Who is this girl, and what does this amazing scene mean, Hubert?" cried
Mrs. Varrick.
Jessie Bain looked at the angry lady in puzzled wonder. She nestled up
closer to the handsome, broad-shouldered fellow, murmuring audibly:
"Why don't you tell her that I am Jessie Bain, and that you are my best
friend on earth?"
The lady had heard enough to condemn the girl in her eyes.
She advanced toward her, livid with rage, and flung the girl's little
white hands back from her son's arm.
"Go!" she cried, quivering with rage; "leave this house instantly, or I
will call the servants to put you into the street? It's such girls as
you that ruin young men!"
"Mother," interrupted Hubert, "Jessie Bain must not be sent from this
house. If she leaves, I shall go with her!"