CHAPTER XVIII.

WEDDING BELLS OUT OF TUNE.

Let us return to Hubert Varrick, and the marriage which was the

all-absorbing topic in fashionable circles.

Mrs. Varrick had sent a note to her son at his hotel, begging for a

reconciliation, and stating that she would be at the wedding without

fail; but never a word did she say about Jessie Bain.

It seemed like a dream to Hubert--his ride in a cab through the cool

crisp air to Gerelda's home on that eventful morning.

He noticed one thing--that the sun did not shine that day; and he said

to himself that it boded ill for his wedding.

The bride-elect and her mother welcomed him effusively. Bitter anger

filled the girl's heart to see how cold and stern he looked. She noticed

that he had no word, no smile for her. If she had not loved him so

madly, her pride would have rebelled, and she would have let him go his

way even then.

She almost shrunk under the cold glance that rested upon her. She

trembled, even in that moment, as she thought how he would hate her if

he but knew how she had plotted to win him. Before she had a chance to

exchange a word with him, her maid of honor came fluttering down the

corridor, chattering in high spirits with Harry Maillard, who was to be

best man.

She was quite as dazed as Varrick himself, until she found herself

standing beside him at the altar.

It was over at last! The words had been spoken which made her Hubert

Varrick's wedded wife, through weal or through woe, till death did them

part.

Then followed the sumptuous wedding-breakfast. While the merriment was

at its height, Varrick touched her lightly on the arm.

"It wants but an hour and twenty minutes until train time. Would it not

be best to slip away now and arrange your traveling toilet?"

"Yes," said Gerelda.

No one noticed their exit, and at last they were alone together, away

from the throng of guests; but, much to the bride's disappointment, her

newly made husband did not seem to realize this fact, and Gerelda's face

flushed with disappointment.

He escorted her as far as the door of her _boudoir_, and there he left

her, saying that he would return in half an hour, hoping that would be

sufficient time to exchange her bridal robes for her traveling-dress.

She smiled and nodded, declaring that he should find her ready before

that time.

Hubert walked slowly on until he found himself at the door of the

conservatory.

"It wouldn't be a bad idea to get a cigar and return here for a quiet

smoke," he thought.

He immediately suited the action to the thought. Was it fate that led

him there? He had scarcely seated himself in one of the rustic

arm-chairs ere he heard the sound of approaching voices.

He felt slightly annoyed that the retreat he had chosen was to be

invaded at that particular moment.

He drew back among the large-leaved plants, which would effectually

screen him from the intruders, and hoped that their stay would be short.

"I tell you it will be impossible for you to see her," said a voice,

which he recognized as belonging to Gerelda's maid.

"But I must," retorted another voice which sounded strangely familiar.

"Give her the note I just gave you, and I will wager you something

handsome that she will see me. My good girl, let this plead for me with

you!"

A jingle of silver accompanied the words, and Varrick could not help but

smile at the magical effect the little bribe had.

"Of course, I'll take your note to her, sir," said the girl; "but that

isn't promising she'll see you."

Somehow the idea formed itself in Varrick's mind that it was Mrs.

Northrup for whom the man asked. Had he thought for one moment that it

was Gerelda whom the man had asked for, he would have stepped forth and

inquired of him what he wanted.

In a very few moments he heard the _frou-frou_ of a woman's garments and

the patter of hurrying feet.

"Gerelda has come instead of her mother to see what this person wants,"

he thought; adding impatiently: "This will never do; we shall be late

for the train, sure. I will have to take the man off her hands."

At that instant, Gerelda, panting with excitement sprung across the

threshold of the conservatory.

From his leafy seat Varrick could hear and see all that took place,

while no one could see him.

He had risen, and was just about to step forward, when he caught sight

of Gerelda's face. The color of it held him spell-bound. It was as pale

as death, and her eyes flashed fire. She was fairly frothing at the

mouth, and the look of venomous rage that distorted her features

appalled him.

"You!" cried Gerelda. "Have you risen from the grave to confront me?"

"I am Captain Frazier--at your service, madame," returned her companion,

with a low bow. "As for my returning from the unknown shore, why, you

flatter me in imagining that I have so much power, though I have been

known to do some miraculous things before now. I am sorry that so many

of my friends believe the ridiculous story that was set afloat regarding

my supposed death. I am--"

"Why are you here? What do you want?" cried Gerelda.

"You are inclined to be brusque, my dear," he replied, tauntingly. "If

you had asked me that question half an hour ago, I should have answered,

'I am here to stop your marriage with Hubert Varrick at whatever cost. I

have traveled by night and by day, foot-sore and hungry, to get here in

time to prevent it.' I-- I thought you had perished in the fire on the

island, until I read the article in the paper announcing your marriage."

"If this is all you have to say to me, permit me to say good-morning,"

she returned icily, turning to leave the place.

"You shall listen to me!" he cried. "I vowed in days gone by that you

should never be happy with Hubert Varrick. You promised that you would

marry me, and those words changed my whole life."

"Well, now that I am another's bride, what can you do about it?" sneered

Gerelda.

"I mean to see Varrick and have a little talk with him," he answered. "I

will tell him how, on the very night before the marriage was to have

taken place at the Crossmon Hotel, at Alexandria Bay, I threw myself on

my knees at your feet, and cried out to you to spare me; that you had

played with my heart too long, and urged you to fly with me, and that

you said, while I knelt before you, that if you decided to fly with me

you would let me know by sunrise the following morning, but that you

must have all night to think it over.

"Do you dare face me and deny that?" continued Captain Frazier, seizing

her white wrist and holding it in an iron grip.

"No, I do not deny it," she answered. "But what of it? What do you

expect to make of it?"

"This!" he cried, furiously. "I intend to be even with you. I will have

a glorious revenge! I will see Hubert Varrick before he leaves this

house, and say to him: 'I hope you may be happy with your bride,' and I

will laugh in his face, crying out: 'She eloped with me not so very long

ago, and we went to my island home, where we kept in hiding until the

sensation should blow over. We remained there, as I can prove by all my

servants, and I was a very slave to her sweet caprices.'"

"You would not say that!" cried Gerelda. "I would tell him my side of

the story--that you kidnapped me, and held me by force on the island."

"Varrick is a man of the world," he returned, tauntingly. "Your side of

the story is too flimsy for him or any one else to believe."

"Stop! You must not--you shall not!" cried Gerelda, wildly. "I-- I will

make terms with you. I see you are shabbily dressed and in want of

money. I will give you a check, here and now, for a thousand dollars, if

you will go away, never again to return, and have nothing to

say--nothing. Your story would ruin me, false though it is."

The captain arched his eyebrows.

"I think I could bring satisfactory proof as to where you passed your

time."

Hubert Varrick, standing behind the foliage, was fairly stricken dumb by

what he heard and saw.

He did not love his bride, but he believed in her implicitly. All the

old doubt which had filled his heart and killed his love for Gerelda

came surging back like a raging torrent, sweeping over his very soul.

In that instant the thought of Jessie Bain came to him--sweet little

Jessie, whose love for him he had read in her every glance, and to whom

he had given all his heart with a deeper, stronger love than he had ever

given to Gerelda, even in those old days. How he longed to break from

the terrible nightmare which seemed to fetter him!

"Your offer of a thousand dollars is a very fair one; but it will take

double that sum to purchase my silence. You are quite right in your

surmise. I am in need of money. With one fell swoop I have lost every

dollar of my fortune, and now that all romance and sentiment are over

between us, I have no compunction in showing you the mercenary side of

my nature. Make it two thousand, and I will consent to hold my peace,

seeing that I can not mend matters by undoing the marriage."

"Come with me. We will settle this now and forever. I have but five

minutes to devote to you. Step this way," said Gerelda.

The next instant they had disappeared, and Hubert Varrick was left

standing there alone.

How long he stood there he never knew. His valet came in search of him.

He found him at the end of the conservatory, standing motionless as a

statue among the shrubbery.

"Master," he said, "your bride bids me say to you that you have barely

time to get into your traveling clothes."

He was shocked at the horrible laugh that broke from Varrick's lips.

Had his master gone mad? he wondered.

He followed the man without a word, and five minutes later, with a firm

step, he was walking down the corridor toward his bride's apartments.

But ere he could knock upon the door, it was opened by Gerelda. He

offered his arm to Gerelda, and walked slowly by her side through the

throng of friends to the carriage in waiting; and, amid showers of rice,

peals of joyous laughter, and a world of good wishes, they were whirled

away.

During the entire ride Varrick spoke no word. Gerelda watched him

narrowly out of the corner of her eye, wondering why he looked so

unusually angry.

They were barely in time to catch the train, and it was not until they

were seated in their own compartment that Varrick ventured a remark to

the beautiful girl he had just made his wife, and who was looking up

into his face with such puzzled wonder in her great dark eyes.

"I should like your attention for a few moments, Mrs. Varrick," he said,

turning to her with a haughty sternness that was new to him.

"You are my wife," he went on; "the ceremony is barely over which made

you that, yet I would recall it if I could."

"What do you mean, Hubert?" she cried, piteously.

"We will not have any theatricals, if you please," he said, waving her

back. "A guilty conscience should need no accuser. It is best to speak

plainly to you, and to the point. Suffice it to say I was in the

conservatory at the time you entered. I heard all that passed between

Captain Frazier and yourself. Now, here is what I propose to do: We were

to take a wedding-trip to Montreal. We will go there, but when we reach

our destination, you and I will part forever. I shall institute

proceedings for a divorce at once, and I shall never know another happy

moment until the divorce is granted. You shall be wife of mine but in

name until we reach Montreal; then we part forever."

"Oh, Hubert, Hubert, you will not do this!" she sobbed, wildly. "It

would ruin my life--kill me!"

"You did not stop to think that marriage with you would ruin my life,"

he interposed, bitterly. "What have you to say for yourself? Was

Captain Frazier's story false or true? Remember, I heard him say that he

could furnish proof of all he charged."

"It is useless to hide the truth from you," she whispered, hoarsely. "I

see that you know all. Give me a chance to think--only to think of some

way out of it. It would kill me, Hubert, to part from you. Better death

than that. You are my world, the sunshine of my life. I would pine away

and die without you. Oh, Hubert, you must not leave me!"

"The words are easily said," he replied, "but they do not sound sincere.

I may as well make a clean breast of the whole matter," he went on, "and

tell you the truth, Gerelda. I do not love you. I-- I--love another,

though that love has never been confessed to the one I love. I--

I--married you because I felt in honor bound to do so, and in doing so I

crushed all the love that was budding in my heart. But was it worth the

sacrifice of two lives? You can not answer me. I shall not intrude upon

you again until we reach Montreal. You can send for your mother; it

would be best for me to leave you in her charge. Telegraph back to her

from the next station we arrive at. The moment we reach Montreal we part

forever!"

But at that instant a strange event happened.

Kidnapped at the Altar; Or, The Romance of that Saucy Jessie Bain · 第 18 / 33 章