MARY GREY'S STORY.
At length her minister came to see her. He expressed the deepest
sympathy with her sufferings, and implored her to relieve her
overburdened heart by confiding in him or in his wife, from either or
both of whom, he assured her, she should receive respectful compassion
and substantial assistance, if the last was necessary.
Then, pretending to yield to his better judgment, she consented to give
him her confidence.
And taking him up to her own sitting-room, where they could be safe from
interruption, she bound him over to secrecy, and then, with many
affected tears and moans, she told him the astounding story that she had
long been privately married to Mr. Alden Lytton, who had deserted her
within a few days after their wedding, and who had recently, as every
one knew, united himself in matrimony with Miss Emma Cavendish, of Blue
Cliffs, Virginia, and had gone with her on a wedding trip to Europe.
While she told him this stupendous tale, the minister sat with open
mouth and eyes, gazing on her with more of the air of an idiot than of a
learned and accomplished gentleman.
He was, in fact, utterly amazed and confounded by the story he had
heard.
That Alden Lytton, a young man of the highest social position, of
unblemished reputation from his youth up, an accomplished scholar, a
learned jurist, an eloquent barrister, and, more than all, a Christian
gentleman, should have been guilty of the base treachery and the
degrading crime here charged upon him was just simply incredible--no
more nor less than incredible.
Or that Mary Grey, the loveliest lady of his congregation, should be
capable of a malicious fabrication was utterly impossible.
There was then but one way out of the dilemma: Mary Grey was insane and
suffering under a distressing hallucination that took this form.
So said the look of consternation and pity that the minister fixed upon
the speaker's face.
"I see that you discredit my story, and doubt even my sanity. But here
is something that you can neither doubt nor discredit," she said, as she
drew from her pocket the marriage certificate and placed it in his
hands.
The minister opened and read it. And as he read this evidence of a
"Christian gentleman's" base perfidy the look of consternation and
amazement that had held possession of his countenance gave place to one
of disgust and abhorrence.
"Do you doubt _now_?" meaningly inquired Mary Grey.
"Ah, no, I can not doubt now! I wish to Heaven I could! I would rather,
my child, believe you to be under the influence of a distressing
hallucination than know this man to be the consummate villain this
certificate proves him to be. I can not doubt the certificate. I wish I
could; but I know this Reverend Mr. Borden. On my holiday trips North I
have sometimes stopped at his house and filled his pulpit. I am familiar
with his handwriting. I can not doubt," groaned the minister.
Mary Grey dropped her hands and pretended to sob aloud.
"Do not weep so much, poor child! Deeply wronged as you have been by
this ruthless sinner you have not been so awfully injured as has been
this most unhappy young lady, Miss Cavendish, whom he has deceived to
her destruction," said the minister.
"And do you not suppose that I grieve for _her_ too?" sobbed Mary Grey.
"Ah, yes, I am sure your tender, generous heart, wronged and broken as
it is, has still the power left to grieve for her as well as for
yourself."
"But what is my duty? Ah, what is my duty in this supreme trial? I can
not save my life or hers from utter wreck, but I can do my duty, and I
will do it, if only it is pointed out to me. Oh, sir, point it out to
me!" cried the hypocrite, clasping her hands with a look of sincerity
that might have deceived a London detective.
"My dear, can you possibly be in doubt as to what your duty is?"
sorrowfully inquired the minister.
"Oh, my mind is all confused by this terrible event! I can not judge
rationally. Ought I to keep silence and go away to some remote place and
live in obscurity, dead to the world, so as never even by chance to
interfere with their happiness, or to bring trouble on Miss Cavendish? I
think, perhaps, he expects even that much from my devotion to him. Or
ought I not to make way with myself altogether, for her sake? Would not
a courageous suicide be justifiable, and even meritorious, under such,
trying circumstances?"
"My child--my child, how wildly and sinfully you talk! Your brain is
certainly touched by your troubles. You must not dream of doing any of
the dreadful things you have mentioned. Your duty lies plainly before
you. Will you have the courage to do it, if I point it out to you?"
"Oh, yes, I will--I will! It is all that is left me to do."
"Then your duty is to lodge information against that wretched man, so
that he shall be arrested the moment he sets foot in the State."
"Oh, heaven of heavens! And ruin Emma Cavendish!" exclaimed the
traitress, in well-simulated horror.
"And save Emma Cavendish from a life of involuntary degradation and
misery. You must do this. To-morrow I will introduce you to a young
lawyer of distinguished ability, who will give you legal advice even as
I have given you religious counsel. And we will both confer together, so
as to save you as much as possible from all painful share in the
prosecution of this man."
"It is _all_ painful; all agonizing! But I think you and I will not
shrink from our duty. Oh, could you ever have believed, without such
proof as I have given you, that Mr. Alden Lytton could ever have been
guilty of this crime?"
"Never! Never! And yet I know that men of exalted character have
sometimes fallen very deeply into sin. Even David, 'the man after God's
own heart,' took the wife of his devoted friend, and betrayed this
faithful friend to a cruel death! Why should we wonder, then, at any
man's fall? But, my child, I must ask you a question that I have been
waiting to ask you all this time. Why did you not interfere to stop this
felonious marriage before it took place? What timidity, what weakness,
or what pride was it that restrained your hand from acting in time to
prevent this fearful crime of Mr. Lytton, this awful wrong to Miss
Cavendish, from being consummated?" gravely and sadly inquired the
minister.
"Oh, sir, how can you ask me such a question? Do you suppose that if I
had had the remotest suspicion of what was going on I should not have
interfered and prevented it at all hazards--yes, even at the sacrifice
of my own life, if that had been necessary?"
"You did not know of this beforehand then?"
"Why, certainly not!"
"Nor suspect it?"
"Assuredly not! I had not the least knowledge nor the faintest suspicion
that anything of the sort was contemplated by Mr. Lytton until after it
was all over. The first I heard of it was from the Misses Crane, who
wrote me at Forestville that Mr. and Mrs. Alden Lytton, the bride and
bridegroom from Blue Cliffs, had called on me during my absence. The
news, when it was confirmed, nearly killed me. But think of the insanity
of their calling on me! But I know that was Emma's wish. And I feel sure
that Mr. Lytton must have known of my absence from town or he never
would have ventured to bring his deceived bride into my home."
"No, indeed; probably not. Well, my poor child, I have shown you your
painful duty. See that you do not falter in it," said the rector, as he
rose to take leave.
"I will not," answered Mary Grey.
"I will call at ten o'clock to-morrow morning to take you to Mr.
Desmond's office."
"I will be ready."
And the minister took his leave.
Punctual to his appointment, the next morning at ten o'clock the rector
called for Mary Grey and took her in his own carriage to the office of
Philip Desmond, one of the most talented among the rising young
barristers of Richmond.
Mr. Desmond enjoyed a high reputation not only as a professional man but
as a private gentleman.
But he was the professional rival and the political opponent of Mr.
Alden Lytton. They were always engaged on opposite sides of the same
case; and on several important occasions Alden Lytton had gained a
triumph over Philip Desmond.
He was, therefore, more astonished than grieved when the rector, after
introducing Mary Grey under the name of Mrs. Alden Lytton, proceeded to
confide to him, under the seal of temporary secrecy, the stupendous
story of Alden Lytton's double marriage.
He expressed much amazement at the double treachery of the man, deep
sympathy with the sorrows of the suffering and forsaken wife, and great
indignation at the wrongs of the deceived and unhappy young lady.
He readily promised to co-operate with the minister in having the
culprit brought speedily to justice.
"You, madam, of course, as his wife, can take no active part in the
prosecution of this man. You can not even give testimony against him
with your own voice. But you must appear in court, to be identified by
the rector, the sexton and others who witnessed your marriage," said the
lawyer, in taking leave of his visitors.
The rector took Mrs. Grey back to her boarding-house, and while she was
gone upstairs to lay off her bonnet and shawl he told the Misses Crane
that their interesting boarder had confided her trouble to him; that she
had suffered the deepest wrong that any woman could be doomed to bear;
but he could not explain more then; they would know all about it in a
short time, when the wrongdoer should be brought to justice.
And having thus mystified the poor ladies, he further recommended Mary
Grey to their tenderest sympathy and care.
And so he went home, leaving them in a state of greater bewilderment
than ever.