The moon shone brightly on the trellised piazza of the ---- House, at
Niagara. The sleepy house-porter had curled himself up in the hall
corner; the sonorous breathings of weary travelers might be heard
through the open windows, for the night was warm and sultry. Two persons
still lingered on the piazza. Judging from their appearance, they were
not tempted by the beauty of the night. Ensconced in the shadow of the
further corner, they were earnestly engaged in conversation.
"I tell you she is in this house; I saw her name on the books--'Gertrude
Dean,' your ex-wife. What do you think of that--hey?"
"The d--l!" exclaimed Stahle. "I can _swear_, now that I am out of
school, you know, Smith."
"Of course," replied the latter, laughing; "the only wonder is, how you
manage to get along with so few vacations. To my mind, swearing lets off
the steam wonderfully."
"How long has this admirable spouse of mine been here?" asked Stahle.
"Don't know. Didn't like to ask questions, you know, until I had first
spoken to you. She's flush of money, of course, or she could not stay
here, where they charge so like the deuce. I should think it would gall
you a little, Stahle, and you so out of pocket."
"It would," said the latter, with another oath, "had I not the way of
helping myself to some of it."
"How's that? The law does not allow you to touch her earnings, now you
are divorced."
"All women are fools about law matters. She don't know that," sneered
Stahle. "She is probably traveling alone, and I will frighten her into
it--that's half the battle. I owe her something for the cool way she
walked round all the traps I sprung for her, without getting caught. I
thought when I left her that she would just fold her hands, and let the
first man who offered find her in clothes, on his own terms, for she
never was brought up to work, and I knew she had no relations that would
give her any thing but advice;" and Stahle gave a low, chuckling laugh.
"You see I always look all round before I leap, Smith. I can't
understand it now, and I never have, why she didn't do as I expected,
for she might have had lovers enough. She was good-looking, and it was
what I reckoned on to sustain the rumors I took care to circulate about
her before I left; but what does she do but shut herself up, work night
and day, and give the lie to every one of them. I wrote to my brother,
Fred, to try every way to catch her tripping, to track her to every
boarding-house she went to, and hint things to the landlord, carefully,
of course. Fred knows how to do it; but you know if a woman does nothing
but mind her own business, and never goes into company, a rumor against
her will very soon die out. I kept spies constantly at work, but it was
no use, confound her; but some of her money I will have. Here she is
living in clover, going to the Springs, and all that; while I am a poor
clerk in a grocery store. I feel as cheap when any Eastern man comes in,
and recognizes me there, as if I had been stealing. I won't stand it;
Mrs. Gertrude Dean, as she calls herself, has got to hand over the cash.
If I can't ruin her reputation, I'll have some of her money."
"You advertised her in the papers, didn't you, when you left?--(after
the usual fashion, 'harboring and trusting,' and all that)--were you
afraid she would run you in debt?"
"Devil a bit; she's too proud for that; she would have starved first."
"Why did you do it, then?"
"To mortify her confounded pride," said Stahle, with a diabolical sneer,
"and to injure her in public estimation. That stroke, at least, told for
a time."
"A pretty set of friends she must have had," said Smith, "to have stood
by and borne all that."
"Oh, I know _them_ all, root and branch. I knew I could go to the full
length of my rope without any of their interference. In fact, their
neglect of her helped me more than any thing else. Every body said I
must have been an injured man, and that the stories I had circulated
_must_ be true about her, or they would certainly have defended and
sheltered her. I knew them--I knew it would work just so; that was so
much in my favor, you see."
"They liked you, then?"
Stahle applied his thumbs to the end of his nose, and gave another
diabolical sneer.
"Liked me! Humph! They all looked down on me as a vulgar fellow. I was
tolerated, and that was all--hardly that."
"I don't understand it, then," said Smith.
"I do, though; if they _defended_ her, they would have no excuse for not
helping her. It was the cash, you see, the cash! so they preferred
siding with me, vulgar as they thought me. I knew them--I knew how it
would work before I began."
"Well, I suppose this is all very interesting to you," said Smith,
yawning, "but as I am confounded tired and sleepy, and as it is after
midnight, I shall wish you good-night."
"Good-night," said Stahle. "I shall smoke another cigar while I arrange
my plans. This is the last quiet night's sleep 'Mrs. Gertrude Dean' will
have for some time, I fancy."
"Scoundrel!" exclaimed John, leaping suddenly upon the piazza through
his low parlor window. "Scoundrel! I have you at last," and well aimed
and vigorous were the blows which John dealt his sister's traducer.
Your woman slanderer is invariably a coward--the very nature of his
offense proves it. There never was one yet who dared face a man in fair
fight; and so on his knees Stahle pleaded like a whipped cur for mercy.
"Go, cowardly brute," said John, kicking him from the piazza. "If you
are seen here after daylight, the worse for you."
"Very strange," muttered Smith the next morning, "very strange.
Something unexpected must have turned up to send Stahle off in such a
hurry. Well, he is a sneaking villain. I am bad enough, but what I do is
open and above board. I don't say prayers or sing psalms to cover it up.
I don't care whether I ever hear from him again or not."