It was midnight in November, keenly cold, but windless; and in the
purplish sky, the wintry crown of stars burned with silvery lustre,
unlike the golden glow of constellations throbbing in sultry summer,
and their white fires sparkled, flared as if blown by interstellar
storms. The large family of Lazarus huddled over dying embers on
darkening hearths, and shivered under scanty shreds of covering; but
the house of Dives was alight with the soft radiance of wax candles,
fragrant with the warm aroma of multitudinous exotics, and brimming
with waves of riotous music, on which merry-hearted favorites of
fashion swam in measured mazes. The "reception" given by Judge Parkman
to the Governor and his staff, on the occasion of a review of State
troops at X--, was at its height; and several counties had been skimmed
for the creme de la creme of most desirable representatives of wit,
wealth and beauty.
Miss Gordon had arrived unusually late, and as she entered the room,
leaning on her uncle's arm, she noticed that Mr. Dunbar was the centre
of a distinguished group standing under the chandelier. He was gently
fanning his hostess, who stood beside the Governor, and evidently he
was narrating some spicy incident, or uttering some pungent witticism,
whereat all laughed heartily. The light fell full on his fine figure,
which rose above all surrounding personages, and was faultlessly
apparelled in evening dress; and Leo's heart filled with tender pride,
at the consciousness that he was all her own. The exigencies of
etiquette prevented for more than an hour any nearer approach, but when
Mr. Dunbar had rendered "Caesar's things" to social Caesar, and paid
tribute of bows, smiles, compliments and persiflage into the coffer of
custom, he made his way through the throng, to the spot where his
betrothed stood resting after her third dance.
"Will Miss Gordon grant me a promenade in lieu of the dance, which
misfortunes conspired to prevent me from securing earlier in the
evening?"
He drew her hand under his arm, and his eyes ran with proprietorial
freedom over the details of her costume, pale blue satin, creamy foam
of white lace, soft sheen of large pearls, and bouquet of exquisite
half blown La France roses.
Since their betrothal, he had claimed the privilege of sending the
flowers she wore, on special occasions, and she had invariably
expressed her appreciation through the dainty lips of a boutonniere
arranged by her own fingers. Now while he recognized the roses resting
on her corsage, her eyes dwelt on her favorite double lilac violets,
nestling in the buttonhole of his coat.
"You were very late to-night. I loitered in ambush about the precincts
of the dressing-room, hoping for the pleasure of conducting you
down-stairs; but 'the best laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft
aglee', and I became the luckless prey of similar tactics. That
marauding Tomyris, Mrs. Halsey, sallied out at the head of her column
of daughters, espied me lurking behind the portiere, and proclaiming
her embarras de richesse, 'paid me the compliment' of consigning one
fair campaigner, Miss Eloise Hermione, to my care. Fancy the strain on
courtesy, as I accepted my 'quite unexpected good fortune'!"
He spoke with a nervous rapidity, at variance with his usual
imperturbable deliberateness of manner, and she thought she had never
seen his eyes so restless and brilliant.
"I was unusually late, owing to the fact that the Governor and staff
dined with Uncle Mitchell, and they lingered so long over their cigars
and wine, that I was delayed in the drawing-room, waiting for them;
consequently was very late in changing my dress. We were sorry you were
prevented from joining us. Uncle pronounced the dinner a perfect
success; and certainly Governor Glenbeigh was in his happiest mood, and
particularly agreeable."
"Given his hostess, and entourage, could he possibly have been less?
Rumor's hundred tongues wag with the announcement, that his Excellency
is no longer inconsolable for his wife's death; and desires to testify
to the happiness of conjugal relations, by a renewal of the sweet
bondage; a curiously subtile compliment to the deceased. If I may be
pardoned the enormity of the heresy, I think Shakspeare blundered
supremely, when he gave Iago's soul to a man. Diabolical cunning,
shrewd malevolence pure and simple, armed with myriads of stings for
hypodermic incisions that poison a man's blood, should be appropriately
costumed in a moss-green velvet robe, should wear frizzled bangs as
yellow as yonder bouquet of Marechal Neils, so suggestive of the
warning flag flying over pest-houses!"
"It is very evident you are not equally generous in surrendering the
amiability of Timon, along with the depravity of Iago, to the arsenal
of feminine weapons. What corroding mildew of discontent has fallen
from Mrs. Parkman's velvet dress, and rusted the bright blade of your
chivalry?"
"The very breath of Iago, filling my ears and firing my heart with the
architectural details of her coveted 'castle in Spain.' Glenbeigh is
her cousin. The ladder of his preferment is set up before my eyes, and
his Excellency springs up the rounds, from Governor to Senatorship,
thence to a place in the Cabinet, certainly to an important foreign
embassy; where, in the eternal fitness of things, somebody, somebody
with tender brown eyes like a thrush's, and the voice of a siren, and
the red lips of Hebe--will be invited to reign as l'ambassadrice! If I
am not as mad with jealous despair as Othello, attribute my escape
either to a sublime faith in your adorable constancy and
incorruptibility, or to my own colossal vanity, fatuous beyond
absolution."
He pressed her arm closer to his side, and covered with one hand the
gloved fingers resting on his sleeve; then added:
"You must permit me to congratulate you upon your beautiful toilette
to-night. The harmony of the dress, and the grace of the wearer leave
nothing to be desired. Although debarred the pleasure of dining with
you, I had hoped to enter, at least, with the coffee, but the freight
train upon which I returned, was delayed; and I had no choice but to
await your arrival here."
He indulged so rarely in verbal compliments, that she flushed with
profound gratification at flip fervor of his tone.
"I am glad you like my dress, to which your roses lend the loveliest
garniture. I was not aware that X--could furnish at this season such
superb La France buds. Where did you find them?"
"They travelled several hundred miles, for the privilege of nestling
against my Leo's heart."
Spartan thieves are not the only heroic sufferers who smile and make no
moan, clasping close the hidden fangs ravening on their vitals.
"As you mentioned in your note that very important business had called
you unexpectedly away, I hope your mission proved both pleasant and
successful."
A shadow drifted over his countenance, like that cast by some summer
cloud long becalmed, which sets sail before a sudden gust.
"Only a modicum of success to counterbalance the disagreeable features
of a journey in a freight train caboose."
"Why do you hazard that dangerous schedule, instead of waiting for the
passenger express?"
"Business exigencies narrow the limits of choice; moreover, had I
waited for the express, I should have missed the coveted pleasure of
this meeting with you. The rosy glamour of happy anticipation conquers
even the discomfort of a freight caboose."
Did she suspect that some sullen undercurrent of intense feeling drove
these eddying foam bells of flattery into the stream of conversation;
or was her reply merely a chance ricochet shot, more accurately
effective than direct fire?
"This afternoon I had a note from Sister Serena, asking for a few
articles conducive to the comfort of a sick room; and I really cannot
determine whether we should feel regret, or relief at the tidings that
that unfortunate girl--can scarcely--"
"Spare me the Egyptian mummy at my feast! The memento mori when I would
fain forget. Let me inhale the perfume of your roses, without hearing
that possibly a worm battens on their petals. Will you ride with me
tomorrow afternoon?"
"I am sorry that an engagement to dine will prevent, as the afternoons
are so short."
"Are you going to the Percy's?"
"Yes. Will you not be there?"
"Too bad! I have just declined attending that dinner, because I had
planned the horseback ride. Formerly fate seemed to smile upon me; now
she shows herself a scowling capricious beldam. I have lost this
evening, waiting to see you, and now, I must steal away unnoticed;
because of an important matter which admits of no delay. Have you
promised to dance with Mayfield? Here he comes. Good-night, my dear
Leo, expect to see me at 'The Lilacs' at the earliest possible moment."
Unobserved he made his escape, and hurried away. At a livery stable he
stopped to order his horse saddled, and brought to his door, and a few
moments later, stood before the grate in his law office, where the red
glow of the coals had paled under ashy veils. From the letter-rack over
the mantel, he took a note containing only a line:
"She has reached the crisis. We have no hope." "SINGLETON."
In the hot embers, it smoked, shrivelled, disappeared; and the attorney
crossed his arms over his chest to crush back the heavy sigh struggling
for escape. The long overcoat buttoned from throat to knee, enhanced
his height, and upon his stern, handsome features had settled an
expression of sorrowful perplexity; while his keen eyes showed the
feverish restlessness that, despite his efforts, betrayed heartache.
Above the heads of the gay throng he had just left, he had seen all
that evening a slender white hand beckoning to him from the bars of a
dungeon; and dominating the music of the ball room, the laughter of its
dancers, had risen the desperate, accusing cry:
"You have ruined my life!"
Was it true, that his hand had dashed a foul blot of shame upon the
fall pure page of a girl's existence, and written there the fatal
finis? If she died, could he escape the moral responsibility of having
been her murderer? Amid the ebb and flow of conflicting emotions, one
grim fact stared at him with sardonic significance. If he had ruined
her life, retribution promptly exacted a costly forfeit; and his
happiness was destined to share her grave.
He neither analyzed nor understood the nature of the strange
fascination which he had ineffectually striven to resist; and he ground
his teeth, and clinched his hands with impotent rage, under the
stinging and humiliating consciousness that his unfortunate victim had
grappled his heart to hers, and would hold it forever in bondage. No
other woman had ever stirred the latent and unsuspected depths of his
tenderness; but at the touch of her hand, the flood burst forth,
sweeping aside every barrier of selfish interest, defying the ramparts
of worldly pride. Guilty or innocent, he loved her; and the
wretchedness he had inflicted, was recoiling swiftly upon himself.
Unbuttoning his overcoat, he took from an inside pocket, the torn half
of a large envelope, and unlocking the drawer of his desk, hunted for a
similar fragment. Spreading them out before him, he fitted the zigzag
edges with great nicety, and there lay the well-known superscription:
"Last Will and Testament of Robert Luke Darrington." One corner of the
last found bit was brown and mud-stained, but the handwriting was in
perfect preservation. As he stooped to put it all back in a secret
drawer, something fell on the floor. He picked up the dainty
boutonniere of pale sweet violets, and looked at it, while a frown
darkened his countenance, as though he recognized some plenipotentiary
pleading for fealty to a sacred compact.
"Poor Leo! how little she suspects disloyalty. How infinite is her
trust, and what a besotted ingrate I am!"
He tossed the accusing flowers into the grate, took his riding-whip and
went down to the door, where his horse was champing the bit, and pawing
with impatience. Along the deserted streets, out of the sleeping town,
he rode toward the long stone bridge that spanned the winding river.
When he had reached the centre, his horse darted aside, because of the
sudden leap of a black cat from the coping of the nearest pier, whence
she sped on, keeping just ahead of him. The spectral sickle of a waning
moon hung on the edge of the sky, and up and down the banks of the
stream floated phantoms of silvery mist, here covering the water with
impalpable wreaths, and there drifting away to enable Andromeda to
print her starry image on the glassy surface.
Behind stretched the city, marked by lines of gas lamps; in front rose
the hill clothed with forests; and frowning down upon the rider, the
huge shadow of the dismal dungeon crouched like a stealthy beast ready
to spring upon him. Dark as the deeds of its inmates, the mass of stone
blotted the sky, save in one corner, where a solitary light shone
through iron lattice work. Was it a beacon of hope, or did the rays
fall on features cold under the kiss of death?
Spurring his horse up the rocky hill, Mr. Dunbar was greeted by the
baying of two bloodhounds within the enclosure; and soon after, Mr.
Singleton conducted him up the steps leading to the room where Beryl
had been placed.
"She is alive; that is all. The doctor said she could not last till
midnight, but it is now half-past one; and my wife has never lost hope.
She has sent the nurse off to get some sleep, and you will find Susie
in charge."
The hazel eyes of the gaoler's wife were humid with tears, as she
glanced up at the attorney, and motioned him to the low chair she
vacated.
"I knew you would come, and when I heard you gallop across the bridge,
I sent Sister Serena off to bed. There is nothing to be done now, but
watch and pray. If she ever wakes in this world she will be rational,
and she will get well. The nurse thinks she will pass away in this
stupor; but I have faith that she will not die, until she clears her
name."
Nature makes some women experts in the fine art of interpreting
countenance and character, and by a mysterious and unerring divination,
Mrs. Singleton knew that her visitor desired no companion in his
vigils; hence, after flitting about the room for a few moments, she
added:
"If you will sit here a while, I can look after my babies. Should any
change occur, tap at my door; I shall not be long away."
What a melancholy change in the sleeper, during the few days of his
absence; how much thinner the hollow cheek, how sunken the closed eyes;
how indescribably sharpened the outlines of each feature. The face
which had formerly suggested some marble statue, had now the finer
tracery as of an exquisite cameo; and oblivion of all earthly ills had
set there the seal of a perfect peace. She lay so motionless, with her
hands on her breast, that Mr. Dunbar bent his head close to hers, to
listen to her respiration; but no sound was audible, and when his ear
touched her lips, their coldness sent a shiver of horror through his
stalwart frame. Pure as the satin folds of an annunciation lily pearled
with dew, was the smooth girlish brow, where exhaustion hung heavy
drops; and about her temples the damp hair clung in glossy rings,
framing the pallid, deathlike face.
At her wrist, the fluttering thread eluded his grasp, and kneeling
beside the cot, he laid his head down on her breast, dreading to find
no pulsation; but slow and faint, he felt the tired heart beat feebly
against his cheek; and tears of joy, that reason could neither explain
nor justify, welled up and filled his eyes. Leaning his head on her
pillow, he took one hand between both his, and watched the profound
sleep that seemed indeed twin sister of death.
Softened by distance came the deep mellow sound of the city clock
striking two. Down among the willows fringing the river bank, some
lonely water-fowl uttered its plaintive cry, whereat the bloodhounds
bayed hoarsely; then velvet-sandalled silence laid her soothing touch
upon the world, and softly took all nature into her restful arms.
In the searching communion which he held with his own heart, during
that solemn watch, Mr. Dunbar thrust aside all quibbles and disguises,
and accepted as unalterable, two conclusions.
She was innocent of crime, and he loved her; but she knew who had
committed the murder, and would suffer rather than betray the criminal.
The conjecture that she was shielding a lover, was accompanied by so
keen a pang of jealous pain, that it allowed him no room to doubt the
nature or intensity of the feeling which she had inspired.
In her wan loveliness, she seemed as stainless as a frozen snowdrop,
and while his covetous gaze dwelt upon her he felt that he could lay
her in her coffin now, with less suffering, than see her live to give
her brave heart to any other man. To lift her spotless and untrampled
from the mire of foul suspicion, where his hand had hurled her, was the
supreme task to which he proposed to devote his energies; but
selfishness was the sharpest spur; she must be his, only his, otherwise
he would prefer to see her in the arms of death.
So the night waned; and twice, when the warden's wife stole to the
door, he lilted his head and waved her back. When the clock in the
tower struck four, he felt a slight quiver in the fingers lying within
his palm, and Beryl's face turned on the pillow, bringing her head
against his shoulder. Was it the magnet of his touch drawing her
unconsciously toward him, or merely the renewal of strength, attested
already by the quickened throb of the pulse that beat under his clasp?
By degrees her breathing became audible to his strained ear, and once a
sigh, such as escapes a tired child, told that nature was rallying her
physical forces, and that the tide was turning. Treacherous to his
plighted troth, and to the trusting woman whom he had assiduously wooed
and won, he yielded to the hungry yearning that possessed him, and
suddenly pressed his lips to Beryl's beautiful mouth. Under that
fervent touch, consciousness came back, and the lids lifted, the dull
eyes looked into his with drowsy wonder. Stepping swiftly to the door
which stood ajar, he met Mrs. Singleton, and put his hand on her
shoulder.
"She is awake, and will soon be fully conscious, but perfect quiet is
the only safeguard against relapse. When she remembers, leave her as
much alone as possible, and answer no questions."
Holding her baby on her breast, Mrs. Singleton whispered:
"Put out the lamp, so that she can see nothing to remind her."
As he took his hat, and put his hand on the lamp, he looked back at the
cot, and saw the solemn eyes fixed upon him. He extinguished the light,
and passed into the room where Susie Singleton stood waiting.
"She will not know Sister Serena, and for a day or two I will keep out
of sight when she is awake. Mr. Dunbar, God has done His part, now see
that you do yours. Have you found out who 'Ricordo' is?"
"Certainly, it is a thing; not a person. As yet the word has given no
aid."
"Then you have discovered nothing new during your absence?"
"Yes, I have found the missing half of the envelope which contained
General Darrington's will; but ask me no questions at present. For her
sake, I must work quietly. Send me a note at twelve o'clock, that I may
know her exact condition, and the opinion of the doctor. Has nothing
been heard from Dyce?"
"As far as I know, not a syllable."
They shook hands, and once more Mr. Dunbar sprang into his saddle.
Overhead the constellations glowed like crown jewels on black velvet,
but along the eastern horizon, where the morning-star burned, the sky
had blanched; and the air was keen with the additional iciness that
always precedes the dawn. Earth was powdered with rime, waiting to
kindle into diamonds when the sun smote its flower crystals, and the
soft banners of white fog trailed around the gray arches and mossy
piers of the old bridge. At a quick gallop Mr. Dunbar crossed the
river, passed through the heart of the city, and slackened his pace
only when he found himself opposite the cemetery, on the road leading
to "Elm Bluff." As the iron gate closed behind him, he walked his
horse, up the long avenue, and when he fastened him to the metal ring
in the ancient poplar, which stood sentinel before the deserted House,
the deep orange glow that paves the way for coming suns, had dyed all
the sky, blotting out the stars; and the new day smiled upon a sleeping
world. The peacock perched upon the balustrade of the terrace greeted
him vociferously, and after some moments his repeated knock was
answered by the cautious opening of the front door, and Bedney's gray
head peered out.
"Lord--Mars Lennox! Is it you? What next? 'Pears to me, there's nothing
left to happen; but howsomever, if ther's more to come, tell us what's
to pay now?"
"Bedney, I want you to help me in a little matter, where your services
may be very valuable; and as it concerns your old master's family, I am
sure you will gladly enter into my plan--"
"Bless your soul, Mars Lennox, you are too good a lieyer to be shore of
anything, but the undertaker and the tax collector. I am so old and
broke down in sperrits, that you will s'cuse me from undertaking of any
jobs, where I should be obleeged to pull one foot out'en the grave
before I could start. I ain't ekal to hard work now, and like the rest
of wore-out stock, I am only worth my grabs in old fields."
Sniffing danger, Bedney warily resolved to decline all overtures, by
taking refuge in his decrepitude; but the attorney's steady prolonged
gaze disconcerted him.
"You have no interest, then, in discovering the wretch who murdered
your master? That is rather suspicious."
"What ain't 'spicious to you, Mars Lennox? It comes as natchal to you
to 'spicion folks, as to eat or sleep, and it's your trade. You believe
I know something that I haven't tole; but I swear I done give up
everything to Mars Alfred; and if my heart was turned inside out, and
scraped with a fine-tooth comb, it wouldn't be no cleaner than what it
is. I know if I was lying you would ketch me, and I should own up
quick; 'cause your match doesn't go about in human flesh; but all the
lancets and all the doctors can't git no blood out'en a turnup."
"You are quite willing, then, to see General Darrington's granddaughter
suffer for the crime?"
"'Fore Gord! Mars Lennox, you don't tote fair! 'Pears to me you are
riding two horses. Which side is you on?"
"Always on the side of justice and truth, and it is to help your poor
young mistress that I came to see you; but it seems you are too
superannuated to stretch out your hand and save her."
"Ain't you aiming to prove she killed old marster? That's what you sot
out to do; and tarrapin's claws are slippery, compared to your grip,
when you take holt."
The old negro stood with his white head thrown back, and unfeigned
perplexity printed on his wrinkled features, while he scanned the swart
face, where a heavy frown gathered.
"I set out this morning to find a faithful, old family servant, whose
devotion has never before been questioned; but evidently I have wasted
my confidence as well as my time. Where is Dyce? She is worth a hundred
superannuated cowards."
"Don't call no names, Mars Lennox. If there's one mean thing I nachally
despises as a stunnin' insult, it's being named white-livered; and my
Confederate record is jest as good as if I wore three gilt stars on my
coat collar. You might say I was a liar and a thief, and maybe I would
take it as a joke; but don't call Bedney Darrington no coward! It
bruises my feelins mor'n I'le stand. Lem'me tell you the Gord's truth;
argufying with lie-yers is wuss than shootin' at di-dappers, and that
is sport I don't hanker after. I ain't spry enuff to keep up with the
devil, when you are whipping him around the stump; and I ain't such a
forsaken idjut as to jump in the dark. Tell me straight out what you
want me to do. Tote fair, Mars Lennox."
"I am about to offer a reward of two hundred and fifty dollars, and I
thought I would allow you privately the opportunity of securing the
money, before I made it public. Where is Dyce?"
"You might as well ax the man in the moon. The only satisfaction she
gin me when she left home, was--she was gwine to New York to hunt for
Miss Ellie. I tole her she was heading for a wild goose chase, and her
answer signified she was leaving all of them fowls behind. If she was
here, she'd be only a 'clean chip in your homny pot'; for she wouldn't
never touch your job with a forty-foot pole, and what's more, she'd tie
my hands. I ain't afeard of my ole 'oman, but I respects her too high
to cross her; and if ever you git married, you will find it's a mighty
good rule to 'let sleeping dogs lay'. Who do you expect me to ketch for
two hundred and fifty dollars?"
"A lame negro man, about medium size, who was seen carrying a bundle on
the end of a stick, and who was hanging about the railroad station on
the night of General Darrington's death. He probably lives on some
plantation south of town, as he was travelling in that direction, after
the severe storm that night. I want him, not because he had any
connection with your master's murder, but to obtain from him a
description of a strange white man, whom he directed to the railroad
water-tank. If you can discover that lame negro, and bring him to my
office, I will pay you two hundred and fifty dollars, and give him a
new suit of clothes. The only hope for General Darrington's
granddaughter is in putting that man on the witness stand, to
corroborate her statement of a conversation which she heard. This is
Wednesday. I will give you until Saturday noon to report. If you do not
succeed I shall then advertise. If you wish to save Miss Brentano, help
me to find that man."
He swung himself into the saddle, and rode away, leaving Bedney staring
after him, in pitiable dubiety as to his own line of duty.
"Wimmen are as hard to live peaceable with as a hatful of hornets, but
the'r brains works spryer even than the'r tongues; and they do think as
much faster 'an a man, as a express train beats er eight ox-team. Dyce
is the safest sign-post! If she was only here now, I couldn't botch
things, for she sees clare through a mill-stone, and she'd shove me the
right way. If I go a huntin', I may flounder into a steel trap; if I
stand still, wuss may happen. Mars Lennox is too much for me. I
wouldn't trust him no further 'n I would a fat possum. I am afeard of
his oily tongue. He sot out to hang that poor young gal, and now he is
willing to pay two hundred and fifty dollars to show the court he was a
idjut and a slanderer! I ain't gwine to set down on no such spring gun
as that! Dyce ought to be here. When Mars Lennox turns summersets in
the court, before the judge, I don't want to belong to his circus--but,
oh Lord! If I could only find out which side he raily is on?"