THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN.
The sinner stands with tearless eye
And looks on virtue's lovely grace:--
Too late, her soul's repentant cry
The brand of sin is on her face
At the very hour in the morning when Mrs. Sinclair and her servants were
searching every nook and corner of the elegant residence, away over on
the Surrey side of the great bridge, in a large brick house, standing
far back from the street, two people, a man and a woman, were bending
over a delicate form, clad in an evening dress of pure white satin that
looked strangely out of place in this scarlet hued Harem of unchastity.
The very hangings blushed in rose red symphonies for the sins and
impurities of the inmates. The heavy carpet was one unbroken stain of
blood red coloring. The daylight peered through the rich window
drapings and crimsoned the entire apartment with its guilty glances
within. The exterior of the house was dull, dark and uninviting, but
within, the glare of crimson, of dull red and deeper garnet, blended in
every article of furniture and garnished walls, ceilings and windows in
bewildering and feverish arrangement. Even the glasses on the small
jasper table by the couch were red with the evil light of their
intoxicating contents.
The woman's dress was opened low at the throat and her jet black hair
and clear olive skin were in sombre contrast to the clinging, reddish
garment.
That the man had carefully disguised both voice and raiment was plainly
evident, but that he was no stranger to the house or its extraordinary
mistress, was also a self evident fact.
There were few who knew of this curious habitation, whose only
furnishings were draperies and divans, small jasper tables and luxuriant
couches, but the few who did were well content to contribute most
generously for its maintenance, and more for the occupants of its
numerous apartments, whose only glimpse of daylight was that which fell
through the shamefaced windows and rested, like the hands of a bashful
lover, upon charms, half strange and half familiar to his touch.
Julia Webber the mistress of this peculiar mansion, bent for a moment
over the silent form, then she raised her eyes and looked with a
strange, unseeing expression, into the wall beyond, as was her habit
when addressing any one.
The voice was low and distinct, but as cold and unsympathetic as steel,
as she said with hardly a movement of the lips, "Well what are your
orders, Monsieur?"
The man at her side turned his eyes from the quiet face upon the couch
and looked haughtily down upon her as he answered sharply, "The same as
usual. Why do you ask?"
For an instant he caught the gleam of fire through her half closed,
panther like eyes as she gave him a searching side glance to note the
effect of her brief question.
"You decline my offer, then," she asked, even more coldly, more
distinctly than before.
"What do I want with you?" the man exclaimed fiercely in excellent
English. "Have I not told you, Julia, that my brief infatuation ended
the hour that it began? Ah, she awakes!" he exclaimed suddenly, and
bent lower over the prostrate girl.
Over Julia Webber's face there crept an ominous, ashen pallor. Her eyes
blazed with the fury of a woman scorned, while her slender, jeweled
fingers clutched the folds of her lurid garments with the grasp of a
dying agony. Another moment and her emotions were controlled. The
vindictive gleam in her eyes was unnoticed by the man, for at that
moment his whole thought and attention was given to the white robed
figure.
Stella, for it was she, opened her eyes and looked around the unfamiliar
room in utter bewilderment. Then her gaze rested upon the young man's
face, but without a shadow of recognition in the face.
With a smile of astonishing sweetness he bent gently over her and
whispered softly, "Do not be frightened, Stella. You are safe with me.
Rest a little and I will explain all."
Then, as her eyes closed once more in response to the powerful drug
which he had administered, he turned roughly upon the woman at his side
and bade her watch and wait upon this girl, then adding with a
significant expression, "I make you responsible for her; I shall be back
this evening;" he abruptly left the house.
When the door closed upon her companion, Julia Webber stood beside the
couch, immovable as marble.
Her flowing garments slipped from her sloping shoulders until one half
her bosom was exposed. The lines of her face were rigid, but the
swelling bosom rose and fell in gasps that were almost convulsive.
Hatred, envy and revenge gleamed in her scintillating eye balls while
she gazed upon the pure and beautiful features of Stella.
At last, through her tightly closed teeth she muttered, hoarsely, "So
this is why he scorns me! For this girl of twenty. It is not her pretty
face or perfect form in which lies her attraction for Monsieur, for I am
equally beautiful, but it is her very virtue, her purity, that draws his
passions like a powerful magnet and holds him her slave until the smirch
of his own contamination is branded on her brow. Pah! These inconstant
fiends; They mold us to their own ideals, then scorn the creature of
their own admiring handiwork. But enough of this! My revenge must be as
sweet as my disappointment is bitter. I am mistress here, and perhaps my
gallant Monsieur, some other _more agreeable_ connoisseur may sip the
dew from your budding rose before you again enhale its fragrance.
"Ah, Captain, you here," she exclaimed as a stranger unceremoniously
entered the apartment.
"How could I remain from your presence, my beautiful Julia?" responded
the newcomer gallantly, then catching sight of the couch and its
occupant he added, hastily, "My God! how beautiful! who is she and where
did you get her?"
"Not so fast, Captain," said Julia, laughing quietly.
Curiously enough the handsome Captain's evident admiration for Stella
evoked no jealousy in her heart, but was a source of satisfaction on the
contrary.
Here was the opportunity for revenge on the man she loved, and she was
not the woman to lose it, through any such foolish sentiment as that of
jealousy. Revenge and love go hand in hand in such natures as Julia
Webber's. Her life had been one long succession of conquests, but to one
man only had she offered constancy.
Only those who are caught in the whirlpool of lascivious temptations can
realize or appreciate the difficulty in fulfiling such a promise, but,
Julia Webber, in spite of her evil life, was truer to a given word than
many of her more righteous sisters. Her love had been accepted with
alacrity, and spurned with contempt and loathing almost from the hour of
consummation.
Now, as this thought again flitted through her mind, she turned to the
destingue individual by her side, and answered playfully, "you know we
tell no secrets here, Captain; she is here, and here to stay, that
should be sufficient. She is slightly indisposed just now," she added,
with a meaning smile, "but if you wish to see her--"
"I certainly do, Julia," and he also smiled significantly, as he eagerly
awaited her reply.
The woman hesitated a moment, and then, apparently changing the subject,
said archly, "By the way, Captain, there is a lovely crimson, velvet
robe in Robinson's window--"
"You shall have it to-morrow, and then?" asked the Captain, anxiously--
"Ah, thank you, and, come in again to-morrow, Captain, I think I can
arrange this little matter for you." Then she closed the door upon him,
and again the panther-like gleam of her eye balls crept stealthily out
between her half closed lids, but the smile that parted the thin red
lips melted away in a heavy sigh, as she turned once more to look long
and earnestly upon Stella's sleeping face.