"Your bed is untouched, you did not undress! Why did you sit up all
night, and alone?"
"Because I knew it was folly to attempt to sleep; and to watch the
bay and the beauty of the night was less wearying than to toss on a
pillow staring at the ceiling. Mrs. Waul, what brings you here so
early?"
"A package of letters which must have arrived yesterday, but William
only received them a few minutes since. Mrs. Orme, will you have your
coffee now?"
"After a little while. Have everything in order to leave at a
moment's notice, for I may not return here from Pæstum. Give me the
letters."
Mrs. Orme tossed back her hair which had been unbound, and as the
letters were placed in her hand, she seemed almost to forget them, so
abstracted was the expression with which her eyes rested on the
dancing waves of the Bay of Naples. The noise of the door closing
behind Mrs. Waul seemed to arouse her, and glancing at the letters
she opened one from Mr. Palma.
The long and harrowing vigil which had lasted from the moment of
bidding General Laurance good-night, on the previous evening, had
left its weary traces in the beautiful face; but rigid resolution had
also set its stem seal on the compressed mouth, and the eyes were
relentless as those of Irene, waiting for the awful consummation in
the Porphyry chamber at Byzantium.
The spirit of revenge had effectually banished all the purer, holier
emotions of her nature; and the hope of an overwhelming Nemesis
beckoned her to a fearful sacrifice of womanly sensibility, but just
now nothing seemed too sacred to be immolated upon the altar of her
implacable Hate. To stab the hearts of those who had wronged her, she
gladly subjected her own to the fiery ordeal of a merely nominal
marriage with her husband's father, resolving that her triumph should
be complete. Originally gentle, loving, yielding in nature, injustice
and adversity had gradually petrified her character; yet beneath the
rigid exterior flowed a lava tide, that now and then overflowed its
stony barriers, and threatened irremediable ruin.
Fully resolved upon the revolting scheme which promised punishment to
the family of Laurance, and
"Self-girded with torn strips of hope,"
she opened the New York letter.
The first few lines riveted her attention. She sat erect, leaned
forward, with eyes wide and strained, and gradually rose to her feet,
clutching the letter, until her fingers grew purple. As she hurried
on, breathing like one whose everlasting destiny is being laid in the
balance, a marvellous change overspread her countenance. The blood
glowed in lip and cheek, the wild sparkle sank, extinguished in the
tears that filled her eyes, the hardness melted away from the
resolute features, and at last a cry like that of some doomed spirit
suddenly snatched from the horrors of perdition and set for ever at
rest upon meads of Asphodel and Amaranth, rolled through the room.
After so many years of reckless hopelessness the transition was
overpowering, and the miserable wife and mother rescued upon the
extreme verge of utter lifelong ruin, fell forward upon her knees,
sobbing and laughing alternately.
From the hour when she learned of her husband's second marriage she
had ceased to pray, abandoning herself completely to the cynicism and
vindictiveness that overflowed her soul like a wave of Phlegethon;
but now the fountain of gratitude was unsealed, and she poured out a
vehement, passionate, thanksgiving to God. Alternately praying,
weeping, smiling, she knelt there, now and then re-reading portions
of the letters, to assure herself that it was not a mere blessed
dream, and at length when the strain relaxed, she dropped her head on
a chair, and like a spent feeble child, cried heartily,
unrestrainedly.
Mr. Palma wrote that after years of fruitless effort he had succeeded
in obtaining from Peleg Peterson a full retraction of the charges
made against her name, whereby General Laurance had prevented a suit
against his son. Peterson had made an affidavit of certain facts,
which nobly exonerated her from the heinous imputations with which
she was threatened, should she attempt legal redress for her wrongs,
and which proved that the defence upon which General Laurance relied,
was the result of perjury and bribery.
In addition to the recantation of Peterson, Mr. Palma communicated
the joyful intelligence that Gerbert Audré, who was believed to have
been lost off the Labrador coast fifteen years before, had been
discovered in Washington, where he was occupying a clerical desk in
one of the departments; and that he had furnished conclusive
testimony as a witness of the marriage, and a friend of Cuthbert
Laurance.
The lawyer had carefully gathered all the necessary links of
evidence, and was prepared to bring suit against Cuthbert Laurance
for desertion and bigamy; assuring the long-suffering wife that her
name and life would be nobly vindicated.
Within his letter was one addressed to Mrs. Orme by Peleg Peterson,
and a portion of the scrawl was heavily underlined.
"For all that I have revealed to Mr. Palma and solemnly sworn to, for
this clearing of your reputation, you may thank your child. But for
her, I should never have declared the truth--would have gone down to
the grave, leaving a blot upon you; for my conscience is too dead to
trouble me, and I hate you, Minnie! Hate you for the wreck you helped
to make of me. But that girl's white angel face touched me, when she
said (and I knew she meant it), 'If I find from mother that you are
indeed my father, then I will do my duty. I will take your hand--I
will own you my father--face the world's contempt, and we will bear
our disgrace together as best me may.' She would have done it, at all
risk, and I have pitied her. It is so clear her, and give her the
name she is entitled to, that at last I have spoken the truth. She is
a noble brave girl, too good for you, too good for her father; far
too good to own René Laurance for her grandfather. When he sees the
child he paid me to claim, he will not need my oath to satisfy him
that in body she is every inch a Laurance; but where she got her
white soul God only knows--certainly it is neither Merle nor
Laurance. You owe your salvation to your sweet, brave child, and have
no cause to thank me, for I shall always hate you."
Had some ministering angel removed from her hand the hemlock of that
loathsome vengeance she had contemplated, and substituted the nectar
of hope and joy, the renewal of a life unclouded by the dread of
disgrace that had hung over her like a pall for seventeen years? When
gathering her garments about her to plunge into a dark gulf replete
with seething horror, a strong hand had lifted her away from the
fatal ledge, and she heard the voice of her youth calling her to the
almost forgotten vale of peace; while supreme among the thronging
visions of joy gleamed the fair face of her blue-eyed daughter. Had
she been utterly mad in resolving to stain her own pure hand by the
touch of René Laurance?
In the light of retrospection the unnatural and monstrous deed she
had contemplated, seemed fraught with a horror scarcely inferior to
that which lends such lurid lustre to the "Oedipus;" and now she
cowered in shame and loathing as she reflected upon all that she had
deliberately arranged while sitting upon the terrace of the Villa
Reale. Could the unbridled thirst for revenge have dragged her on
into a monomania that would finally have ended in downright madness?
Once nominally the wife of the man whom she so thoroughly abhorred,
would not reason have fled before the horrors to which she linked
herself? The rebellious bitterness of her soul melted away, and a
fervent gratitude to Heaven fell like dew upon her arid stony heart,
waking words of penitence and praise to which her lips had long been
strangers.
Adversity in the guise of human injustice and wrong generally
indurates and embitters; and the chastisements that chasten are
those which come directly from the hand of Him "who doeth all things
well."
When Mrs. Waul came back Mrs. Orme was still kneeling, with her face
hidden in her arms, and the letters lying beside her. Laying her
wrinkled hand on the golden hair, the faithful old woman asked:
"Did you hear from your baby?"
"Oh! I have good news that will make me happy as long as I live. I
shall soon see my child; and soon, very soon, all will be clear. Just
now I cannot explain; but thank God for me that these letters came
safely."
She rose, put back her hair, and rapidly glanced over two other
letters, then walked to and fro, pondering the contents.
"Where is Mr. Waul?"
"Reading the papers in our room."
"Ask him to come to me at once."
She went to her desk, and wrote to General Laurance that letters
received after their last interview compelled her to hasten to Paris,
whither she had been recalled by a summons from the manager of the
Theatre. She had determined, in accordance with his own earnestly
expressed wishes, that from the day when the world knew her as Mrs.
Laurance it should behold her no more upon the stage; consequently
she would hasten the arrangements for the presentation of her own
play "_Infelice_," and after he had witnessed her rendition of the
new _rôle_, she would confer with him regarding the day appointed for
the celebration of their marriage. Until then, she positively
declined seeing him, but enclosed a tress of her golden hair, and
begged to hear from him frequently; adding directions that would
insure the reception of his letters. Concluding she signed: "Odille
Orme, hoping by the grace of God soon to subscribe myself--Laurance."
"Mr. Waul, I have unexpectedly altered my entire programme, and,
instead of going to Pæstum, must start at once to Paris. This
fortunately is Tuesday, and the French steamer sails for Marseilles
at three o'clock. Go down at once and arrange for our passage, and be
careful to let no one know by what route I leave Naples. On your way
call at the telegraph office and see that this despatch is forwarded
promptly; and do send me a close carriage immediately. I wish to
avoid an unpleasant engagement, and shall drive to Torre del Greco,
returning in time to meet you at the steamer instead of at this
house. See that the baggage leaves here only time enough to be put
aboard by three o'clock, and I shall not fail to join you there. When
General Laurance calls, Mrs. Waul will instruct the servant to hand
him the note, with the information that I have gone for a farewell
drive around Naples."
Hurriedly completing her preparations, she entered the carriage, and
was soon borne along the incomparably beautiful road that skirts the
graceful curves of the Bay of Naples. But the glory of the sky, and
the legendary charms of the picturesque scenery that surrounded her,
appealed in vain to senses that were wrapped in the light of other
days, that listened only to the new canticle which hope long dumb was
now singing through all the sunny chambers of her heart.
Returning again and again to the perusal of the letters to assure
herself that no contingency could arise to defraud her of her
long-delayed recognition, she felt that the galling load of half her
life had suddenly slipped from her weary shoulders; and the world and
the future wore that magic radiance which greeted Miriam, as singing
she looked back upon the destruction escaped, and on toward the
redeemed inheritance awaiting her.
Reunion with her child, and the triumphant establishment of her
unsullied parentage, glowed as the silver stars in her new sky; while
a baleful lurid haze surrounded the thought of that dire punishment
she was enabled to inflict upon the men who had trampled her prayers
beneath their iron heels.
She recalled the image of the swarthy, supercilious, be-diamonded
woman who sat that memorable night in the minister's box, claiming as
husband the listless handsome man at her side; and as she pictured
the dismay which would follow the sudden rending of the name of
Laurance from the banker's daughter, and her helpless child, Mrs.
Orme laughed aloud.
Slowly the day wore on, and General Laurance failed to call at the
appointed hour to arrange the preliminaries of his marriage. His
servant brought a note, which Mrs. Orme read when she reached the
steamer, informing her that sudden and severe indisposition confined
him to his bed, and requested an interview on the ensuing morning.
Mrs. Waul had received the note and despatched in return that given
her by her mistress.
In the magical glow of that cloudless golden afternoon Mrs. Orme saw
the outlines of St. Elmo fade away, Capri vanish like a purple mist,
Ischia and Procida melt insensibly into the blue of the marvellous
bay; and watching the spark which trembled on the distant summit of
Vesuvius like the dying eye of that cruel destiny from which she
fled, the rescued happy woman exulted in the belief that she was at
last sailing through serene seas.
Dreaming of her child, whose pure image hovered in the mirage hope
wove before her--
"She seemed all earthly matters to forget,
Of all tormenting lines her face was clear,
Her wide brown eyes upon the goal were set,
Calm and unmoved as though no foe were near."