DEATH.
Death overtakes us, one and all--
Oft times when life is at its best:
Before its fatal blade we fall
To deep and never ending, rest.
The two men recognized each other instantly, for Maurice, in his fancied
security, had neglected the habitual disguise.
Quick as flash he snatched the lines from his companion's hands and
struck the spirited pony a sharp blow with the slender whip.
Moments elapsed, however, before Sir Frederic could explain the
situation to his friend and their stupid driver. Vehicles were
constantly passing and when they were finally in readiness to pursue,
the pony phaeton had vanished.
The necessary papers were secured after much trouble and expense and a
description of Maurice Sinclair, as he now appeared, furnished the
Detective Bureau, but all to no purpose. Maurice had again evaded
capture.
The lady was readily found in one of the most fashionable homes on Fifth
Avenue, but her information was limited. She denied that her companion
was Maurice Sinclair, but that was of little consequence as it was more
than probable he had adhered to the precaution of an assumed name, if
nothing more.
For fear of further publicity, the parents of the young lady removed her
promptly from the city, and another two months passed while Chicago, St.
Louis and even the Pacific slope were thoroughly searched for the
missing man.
At the end of that time Sir Frederic was forced to return to London by
family matters and the search for his loved one was extended at every
spare moment of his time.
Meanwhile, Stella was still a prisoner in that quiet house with its
scarlet furnishings. In the entire time of her confinement she had never
passed the threshold of her door or seen the faces of the other inmates
whose voices reached her so indistinctly through the heavy hangings.
Julia Webber gave her every care and attention, but every entreaty for
liberty was met with the same gentle but decided answer, "Wait, Miss
Sinclair,--You and I will leave this place together, but my house must
be empty, first."
Tired of questions that received no answers and prayers that were
unavailing, Stella waited patiently and sadly for the hour of her
release.
At last it came.
Julia Webber entered her room just at dusk one cold, foggy day and
seating herself by her side, said seriously, "Miss Sinclair, I shall
take you home to-night. We are alone now and I can close the house
forever. Do not be surprised at my change in costume when I leave this
place for it will never do for you to be seen in public with such as I.
Your honor has been saved, now you must let me guard appearances as
well."
Leaving Stella overcome with gratitude and happiness she left the room
and going at once to her own boudoir, selected the poorest and plainest
of her clothing and dressed herself modestly in a quiet grey gown,
laying out at the same time another unassuming but far more costly robe
for Stella's use. This she took to Stella's room.
After Stella was dressed for her long anticipated journey, she waited
quietly in the spacious parlor while Julia Webber passed, for the last
time, through the apartments of this magnificent, but extraordinary
abode.
Everything was in perfect order.
Opening a secret drawer in her dressing-case, she took therefrom a
folded paper and thrust it carelessly into a small leather bag that was
suspended from her waist by a delicate silver chain.
Her money and jewels had been safely placed in the Bank some days
before, and now she opened the wardrobe door and glanced curiously at
the row of silken and velvet gowns, all costly and elaborately made, but
each of some startling shade of lurid red.
For a moment only, she hesitated, then she closed and locked the door,
turning her back resolutely upon it while she muttered bitterly, "I am
done forever with that cursed color. What care I for man's homage, while
my heart is breaking with the shame of unrequited love?" Then, as her
eyes roved restlessly about the rooms, old associations arose within
her, and obeying a sudden impulse of her reckless nature, she again had
recourse to the waxen matches. This time it was the heavy hangings that
she touched with the blazing tapers, and when she felt confident that
the deed was safely done, she closed the door behind her and returning
to Stella with a curious smile upon her lips, led her hastily from the
house without a backward glance.
"Let us walk a little," she said to Stella. "It will do you good and we
can take a hansom at the square," and so saying the two women walked
rapidly along the foggy street while Stella's heart beat joyfully with
this long desired accession to liberty and friends.
They had only gone a few blocks when an engine dashed wildly past them,
its bell clanging frightfully, while the cry of "fire" was echoed
frantically from every side.
Julia Webber smiled sadly and hurried on, almost dragging Stella in her
haste to leave the excitement of whose origin she alone was cognizant,
but as they rushed thus heedlessly, across the slippery street, a span
of powerful black horses, frenzied by the clanging bell, rushed upon
them in the darkness, and before the sturdy driver could control their
maddened fury, both women were lying prostrate beneath the heavy hoofs.