THE CONTRACT BROKEN.
The weapon tempts her--see--she feels its edge--
Then breaks the contract--and returns the pledge.
The man whom Julia Webber addressed by the French appellation, Monsieur,
returned that evening, true to his word. He was received with smiles by
the mistress of the house, who told him, in all sincerity, of Stella's
still unconscious condition, and urged him to wait a little before
presenting himself to the bewildered girl. Steeped in the ways of evil
and deceit as he was, still he discovered no treachery in Julia Webber's
words, and departed somewhat reluctantly, but in perfect faith as to his
ultimate success.
Julia Webber's desire for revenge was being fulfilled almost upon the
hour of its conception.
It was now nearly noon of the day following Stella's entrance to her
house, and yet the fascination of her new guest's presence was still
strong upon her. She had decided upon her course of action during that
period of outward calm and inward perturbation, while she stood beside
the sleeper's unconscious form.
The silver clock in her private dressing-room was still tinkling the
hour of noon when a maid entered and handed her a large parcel which had
just arrived.
"Wait a moment, Jennie," her mistress said, and the extremely attractive
maid, nothing loth to view the contents of the box, waited while the
wrappings were removed and the magnificent robe of crimson velvet held
admiringly to the light.
"Ask the young ladies to come in," was the next extraordinary command,
and while she donned the exquisite garment, some seven or eight young
women, strikingly beautiful in face and figure, filed noisily into the
room, and threw themselves in graceful, negligent positions, upon the
numerous couches and divans.
The robe was beautiful, and fitted her voluptuous form to perfection.
After it had been duly admired and removed, the enthusiastic young women
were horrified to see Julia Webber hold it from her at arms length while
she lighted in succession a half dozen waxen matches and applied them in
spots to the costly fabric. The velvet writhed and twisted, beneath the
flame-like human flesh, whilst almost suffocating fumes pervaded every
inch of the apartment. She held it thus in her hands, until it was
completely ruined, leaving only enough uninjured, to show the original
shape and beauty, then refolding it as best she could, she tied the
wrappings again with her own hands and writing in large, clear letters
across the package, "The Pledge of a Broken Contract," ordered her maid
to return it at once, to Captain Carlisle, Hotel Victoria. Then she
dismissed the wondering women and went once more to the room that had
become so strangely interesting.
A moment later she stood beside the couch holding in her hand a cluster
of delicious grapes, while Stella listened and ate with the expression
of bewilderment gradually fading from her features.
"I wish you would tell me of yourself, freely and unreservedly," Julia
Webber said, and Stella, realizing at last some degree of truth
regarding this woman and her surroundings, was clever enough to know
that innocence and helplessness were by far the best weapons with which
to fight her cause.
In treachery and deceit, Stella was little versed, but as an intelligent
and observing member of society, she knew only too well that they
existed, and feeling altogether unequal to such a combat, she chose
ignorance as the surest safeguard from further trouble.
It was Julia Webber's request, that she would not ask to leave this
particular apartment, that first opened her eyes to the nature of her
surroundings. She shuddered involuntarily as the knowledge forced itself
upon her, but she noted, sadly, that in spite of that promise, the key
was softly turned on the outside whenever her hostess left the room.
After a little thought, Stella concluded to tell her name, and the
circumstances of her abduction as nearly as she could recall them, but
it was only when she identified her abductor as Maurice Sinclair, and
mentioned her relations towards himself and his lovely mother, that
Julia Webber's face in any way betrayed her interest in the narrative.
"You say that you reside in this Maurice Sinclair's home," she repeated,
excitedly.
"Yes," Stella answered.
"And he will inherit great wealth, unless you stand between him and his
mother's affection, I infer," she continued more quietly.
"Ah, I had not thought of that," exclaimed Stella suddenly. "You must be
right, that only could have been his motive for this awful deed. But I
fear, so great is her love for me, that his plans will fail, unless I am
safely restored to her."
"You shall return in safety," was the decided answer, while her
listener's eyes blazed with the excitement of a new ambition. Here was
her chance, and almost instantly her mode of action was decided. She had
become sick and weary of her sinful life ever since that strange
infatuation sprang up within her heart, and for one man's honest love,
she would gladly have forsworn the admiration and homage of the world,
but too late, she realized that man would never credit such as she,
with honest love, and the scorn her tender sentiments evoked, filled her
whole soul with bitterness and longing for revenge.
Now, through Stella's innocent and unsuspecting friendship, she felt the
way was open for a more subtle and satisfying vengeance, and subduing
her excitement with marvelous control, she continued seriously, "Miss
Sinclair, the subject of my life and surroundings is not one that I
should broach to you, but you have given me your confidence in a
measure, and, believe me, you shall never regret it. Now it may be a
bold thing for me to do, but I am going to ask you a question, and upon
your answer will depend much more than you imagine. Have I your
permission?"
"Certainly," was Stella's wondering reply.
"I wish to ask, Miss Sinclair, if I were to leave this place; abandon
the life that I have led for ten years past and obey in future every
regulation and restriction of respectable society, would you call me
your friend and allow me to visit you at your home?"
For a moment only, Stella hesitated, then holding out her hand to this
extraordinary woman, she responded sincerely, "forgive me for thinking
of myself, but come with me from this terrible place and so long as your
conscience can honestly claim my sisterly regard, it shall be yours."
The tears trembled on her long, dark lashes as she raised her eyes to
Julia's face, but at that instant a rap sounded on the outer door and
without replying, her companion rose and passed swiftly out into the
hall.
The man whom she had known for several months only as "Monsieur" was
standing in the wide, crimson draped hall, but the hangings were so
thick that it was impossible to have overheard the conversation that had
been carried on in low tones between the two.
Placing her hand upon his arm, Julia Webber led him without a word into
the spacious parlor which was also draped, even more luxuriously than
the other apartments, in costly fabrics of vivid scarlet.
Here she paused before him, looking into his eyes with orbs that blazed
with anger, and through her tight drawn lips she fairly hissed the
words, "Maurice Sinclair, your adopted sister has told me all. This is
my house and beneath its roof you and she will never meet again."
Then, while he stood apparently amused at this new freak of a peculiar
woman, she moved to a dainty desk, and filling out a check for many
thousand pounds, signed it, and once more stepping before him, thrust it
into his hand, saying calmly, "there is the amount which I have received
from you. Now, go! and believe me, if you escape punishment at all other
hands for your cowardly sins, the revenge of a woman's scorned devotion
will at some time find you out."
Then, before he could utter a word of protest or amazement, he was left
alone in the fiery glow of the blood-red parlor. He looked mechanically
at the paper in his hand, tore it in half, and dropping it upon the rug
at his feet, turned like one in a trance, and slowly left the house.