APPOINTING A WATCH DOG.
Doctor Heath stood at his office window looking out upon the street, and
whistling softly. Below and directly under his gaze, stood a fine bay
horse, harnessed to a new light road wagon; and horse and owner were
somewhat impatiently waiting the arrival of Ray Vandyck, who was under
engagement to drive with Doctor Heath, and pass his opinion on the
"points" of the handsome bay, a recent purchase of the doctor's, who was
a lover of a good horse and a fine dog, and was never without one or
more specimens of each.
A quick step behind him caused him to bring his tune to an abrupt close,
and he turned to see Ray, who had entered hurriedly, leaving the door
ajar, and was busy breaking the seal of a small cream tinted envelope.
Clifford Heath favored him with a quizzical glance, and came away from
the window.
"That's a dangerous looking document, Ray," laughed the doctor, throwing
himself down in his own favorite chair with the air of a man resigned to
any thing.
"I've a shuddering horror of any thing so small and delicately tinted.
But read it, my boy; it's your fate to be persecuted, you are so
amiable."
Ray lost no time in opening and scanning the dainty note, and he now
turned a perplexed face toward his friend.
"I'll be hanged if I can understand it," he said, filiping the note
between his thumb and fingers.
[Illustration: "I'll be hanged if I can understand it."]
"Of course you can't, 'it' having emanated from the brain of a woman. I
only hope your inability to comprehend the incomprehensible is the worst
feature in the case."
"But it isn't," protested Ray. "I must renounce my drive, and your
charming society."
"Really! is she so imperative, and are you so much her bond slave?"
Ray laughed. "Imperative," he cried. "You need not have asked, had you
known the name affixed to this missive, and you would obey it with as
much alacrity as I shall. Listen, Heath: I can trust you with a secret,
if this be one." And, unfolding the note, he read:
RAYMOND VANDYCK, ETC.
_My Friend_: By coming to me, _at once_, on receipt of this note,
you will do me a great favor, and perhaps do one who is your
friend, an essential service. Come at once, to
Yours in waiting,
CONSTANCE WARDOUR.
"There," said Ray, refolding the note; "now what say you?"
"That Miss Wardour's commands are to be obeyed; and--as your horse is
stabled, and mine is at the door, you had best take mine and lose no
time. Perhaps you may be dismissed as speedily as you are summoned, and
we may take our drive after all. Go, go, my son;" and he waved his hand
theatrically.
"Thank you, Heath. You are a generous fellow; but don't look for your
red roan steed until you see it back. I shall place that and myself at
Miss Wardour's disposal. She shall find that she has summoned no laggard
knight."
"Who talks of playing the knight to Miss Constance Wardour's 'fair
ladye?' Let him have a care!" cried a gay voice from the doorway. And
turning their eyes thither, they saw the dark, handsome face of Frank
Lamotte.
A shade of annoyance crossed the face of young Vandyck, but he retorted
in the same strain:
"I am that happy man. Stand aside, sir. I go to cast myself and all my
fortune at her feet." Then, turning a wicked look back at his friend in
the big chair, he cried, "Heath, adieu! look your last on the red roan
steed. I may be going 'O'er the hills and far away,'--who knows?"
"You may be gone--"
"Deep into the dying day."
"That's the thought that distresses me," retorted the doctor. "But go,
go, egotist!"
With a laugh, and another backward meaning glance at the doctor, young
Vandyck pocketed his note, took up his hat, and murmuring a mocking
adieu in the ear of young Lamotte, ran lightly down the steps, and, a
moment later, the swift fall of hoofs told them he was off.
"What the deuce ails the fellow?" said Lamotte, sourly, tossing his hat
and himself down upon the office divan. "Prating like a school-boy about
a summons from Miss Wardour."
"He means to get to Wardour Place without loss of time, if one may judge
from the manner of his going. You know," smiling behind his hand, "Ray
is a prime favorite at Wardour."
"I did not know it," returned Lamotte, sulkily. "Vandyck don't seem to
realize that I have a prior claim, and that his twaddle, therefore, only
serves to render him ridiculous."
Clifford Heath dropped his hand from before his face, and turned two
stern, searching eyes upon the young man.
"_Have_ you a prior claim?" he asked, slowly.
For a second the eyes of Frank Lamotte were hidden by their long lashes;
then they were turned full upon the face of his interlocutor, as their
owner replied firmly:
"I have."
* * * * *
Raymond Vandyck lost no time on his drive to Wardour Place; and before
he could frame any sort of reasonable guess as to the possible meaning
of Constance's note, he found himself in her very presence.
"Ah, Ray!" she exclaimed, extending a welcome hand, "you are promptness
itself. I hardly dared hope to see you so soon."
"I met your messenger on the road, as I was riding in to keep an
appointment with Heath," exclaimed Ray, "but as I was in company with
Bradley, our new neighbor, you know, I did not open the note until I got
to Heath's office. Then, as your note was urgent, and Heath's horse at
the door, I took it, and here I am, very much at your service, Conny."
"And I don't know of another who _could_ be of service to me just now,
Ray," she said, seriously; "neither do I know just how to make use of
you. Ray," suddenly, "are you burdened with a large amount of
curiosity?"
"About the average amount, I think."
"Well! I am about to give that curiosity a severe test."
"Seriously, Conny, unless your secret concerns some one especially dear
to me, I can survive being kept in the dark."
"And being made to work in the dark?"
"Yes, that too, under your orders, for I know I should risk nothing in
obeying them."
"I should set you no dangerous or dishonorable task, of course, Ray."
"I am sure of that, Conny; command me; don't hesitate."
But she did hesitate, not knowing just how to tell him that she was
Doctor Heath's friend, in spite of appearances, without telling, or
revealing otherwise too much. How could she set the matter before him,
as she wished him to see it?
Seeing her hesitate, Ray unwittingly came to the rescue, and Constance
seized upon the idea he gave her, with hasty eagerness, little thinking
of the results that were to follow her implied deceit.
"I can't feel too grateful for your confidence at any price," he said,
laughingly; "when I think how Lamotte glowered at me when he saw me
coming here. But, then, if rumor speaks the truth, he has a right to be
jealous, eh, Constance?"
Here was a way out of her dilemma; let Ray imagine her engaged to Frank
Lamotte, and he would not misconstrue her interest in Doctor Heath; as
for Frank, he had been a suitor, and a most troublesome one, for so
long, that she thought nothing of appropriating him to herself, as a
matter of convenience, and only for the moment, and she never thought at
all of the injury she might do herself by this deception.
"Oh, yes!" she replied; "I have given Frank the right to be as jealous
as he pleases." And the hot blood flamed into her cheek, as she saw how
readily he had taken her words as she had meant them to be understood.
"Lamotte's a lucky fellow," said Ray, "although I know a better man I
would like to see in his shoes. But we won't quarrel over Frank. Is it
him that I am to serve?"
"No," she replied, coloring again. And once more he misapplied her
confusion.
Constance was silent and thoughtful for a few moments, and then she came
directly to the point.
"Some strange things have come to my knowledge concerning Doctor Heath,
Ray. They have come in such a manner that I would be in a measure
violating the confidence of another were I to make a statement in full,
and yet--in some way Doctor Heath must know that danger menaces him."
"Ah!" uttered Ray Vandyck, and Constance, lifting her eyes to his face,
caught there a fleeting look that caused her to ask suddenly:
"Ray, have you heard anything about Doctor Heath? anything strange, I
mean, or unexpected?"
"Why," replied Ray, slowly. "I have nothing very strange to relate,
but--Heath's encounter with Burrill a short time since has made some
talk."
"I don't understand you."
"Then is it not about this affair that you have sent for me?"
"Ray, explain yourself. What of this 'affair,' as you call it?"
"Why, you see," began Ray, plunging into his recital after a fashion
peculiar to himself, "about a week ago, yes, it was quite a week ago, on
that stormy blustering Monday night, when sensible people staid in
doors, Heath, after the manner of doctors, was straggling about that
lovely precinct known as Mill avenue, trying to find the shortest way
out after paying a visit to some sick child, or woman, I won't swear
which; as I was saying, he was on his way out of that blessed avenue,
when he heard screams coming from the cottage he was passing. It was the
voice of a woman, and Heath made for the house, and rushed in just in
time to see that latest addition to society, Mr. John Burrill, in a
state of partial intoxication, raining blows about the head and
shoulders of the woman who was once his wife. Heath rained one blow upon
him and he went down under it. Then he got up, not quite satisfied and
thirsting for more fight, and Heath felled him once more.
"It seems that the thing had been done so rapidly, that Burrill had not
had time to get a fair look at the face of his assailant; but the second
time he scrambled to his feet, Heath stood facing him full, braced and
ready, when, behold, Burrill, after one look, turns as pale as a
spectre, utters a yell of fear, and dashes out of the house like a
madman. By this time, several people had come in, and the thing puzzled
them not a little. Heath asserted that he had never, to his knowledge,
seen Burrill before; and yet there stood the fact of Burrill's fright at
sight of him. Some believed it a case of mistaken identity; others, that
Heath was trying to mislead them, and that he did know Burrill. The
affair became noised about as such things will be, and some were curious
to see another meeting between Heath and Burrill. And here comes the
queer part of the business. In his sober moments, Burrill avoids Heath,
and can not be brought to mention his name. But when he gets a little
too much on board--beg pardon, Conny--I mean, somewhat intoxicated, he
becomes very loquacious; then he throws out strange hints, and gives
mysterious winks; states that he could tell a tale about Heath that
would open everybody's eyes. He talks of 'borrowed plumage,' and
insinuates that Heath would like to buy him off. He says that he took to
his heels because he knew that Heath did not mean fair play, etc.
Finally, two or three evenings ago, when Burrill was remarkably tipsy,
and therefore, unusually ripe for a combat with any one, Heath and I,
crossing the street opposite Spring's Bank, encountered him coming
toward us, surrounded by a party of roughs. As we approached them,
Burrill making some uncouth gestures, came forward, in advance of the
rest, and as he came opposite Heath, leaned toward him, and whispered a
few words in his ear. I don't know what he said, but the effect on Heath
was magical. For a moment, he seemed staggered, as if by a blow, and
then he took the fellow by the throat, and shook him until his teeth
rattled; then loosed his hold, so suddenly, that his man dropped to the
ground. Heath by this time was a little cooler; he stooped over the
prostrate man, took him by the collar, and fairly lifted him to his
feet, then he said:
"'Understand this, fellow, I allow no man to interfere with my business.
This is only a sample of what will happen to you if you ever try this
dodge again; keep my name off your tongue in public, and private, if you
want whole bones in your body;' then he marched past the whole
astonished crowd, minding them no more than if they were gnats. I
followed, of course, and said as I came up with Heath:
"'Quite an adventure, upon my word; you seem to possess a strange
attraction for Burrill?'
"'Burrill,' he exclaimed; 'who the mischief _is_ the fellow, Ray?'
"'He is Mr. Lamotte's son-in-law,' I answered.
"'Ah,' he mused; 'so Jasper Lamotte has married his daughter to a
blackmailer;' and after that, he said never a word more on the subject.
I had it in my mind to tell him of the hints and insinuations, Burrill,
in his unguarded moments, was putting into circulation, but his
reticence closed my lips."
He paused, and looked to his auditor for some comment, but she sat with
her eyes fixed upon the carpet, and a troubled look on her face.
"Don't think, Conny, that I am one of those who construe this against
Heath," said the loyal fellow. "He is the best fellow in the world. The
whole thing, for me, lies in a nutshell. Heath is not a man to disturb
himself about his neighbor's concerns, and he don't expect his neighbors
to interest themselves in his. This Burrill has picked up, somehow, a
little information; something concerning Heath, or his past life, that
is not known to W----, and he is trying to make capital of it. The
secret in itself may be a mere nothing, but Heath is the first man to
resent impertinences, and the last man to make explanations. And he's
right, too, especially under the present circumstances. I like him all
the better for his pluck, and his reticence; let him keep his secrets,
so long as he gives me his friendship, I am quite content."
Constance felt a thrill of satisfaction, and a return of courage, as she
listened. Here was a friend, loyal, enthusiastic, not to be alienated
by slander or suspicion. She had known Ray from his childhood, and they
had always been the best of friends, but she had never admired and
honored him, never valued his friendship so much, as she did at this
moment.
His enthusiasm was contagious; she forgot all her fears, of a personal
nature, and became in an instant the true woman and unselfish friend.
"Ah, Ray," she exclaimed, lifting two admiring gray eyes to meet his,
"you are a friend indeed! a friend to be proud of; but tell me, did you
hear nothing more of Burrill after that second encounter?"
"He made some pretty loud threats," replied Ray, "and a fellow named
Brooks, a sort of crony of Burrill's, took it upon himself to call upon
Heath the next day, and advise him to keep a pretty close lookout for
Burrill, as he was quite likely, in one of his drunken rages, to make an
assault upon him. Heath thanked the fellow, and assured him that he was
quite capable of taking care of himself, and Burrill, too, if need be;
and Brooks backed out, declaring that he 'meant no 'arm by intrudin'.'"
"Ray," said Constance, earnestly, "John Burrill is not the only man
Doctor Heath has to fear. I may have acted hastily in sending for you,
but I was so troubled by certain facts that have just come to my
knowledge, that I could not rest without doing something. It's almost an
abuse of confidence to ask so much of you and tell you so little, but in
a few days I hope to be mistress of my own tongue, and then you shall
have all the particulars. For the present, Ray, promise to follow my
instructions blindly."
"I have promised that, Conny."
"And, Ray, you will keep this all a secret; you will do your part
without hinting to Doctor Heath your true motive, unless circumstances
compel an explanation?"
"I promise that, too."
"When I sent for you, it was to ask you to warn Doctor Heath, in the
most delicate way you could devise, that he was menaced by an enemy, and
under hourly surveillance; but, since you have told me of this, Burrill,
it occurs to me that in some way he may be mixed up in this matter,
and--I have thought of a better plan."
Ray nodded, and looked full of interest.
"Your description of his manner of receiving Burrill's interference, and
of his reticence throughout, makes me feel that it might be only
precipitating a catastrophe if we warned him, and so, Ray, I want you,
for three days, to be his constant shadow. Devise some excuse for
remaining in town; thrust yourself upon his hospitality; observe any
strangers who may approach him. If possible, do not let him get out of
your sight, even for a short time; in three days you shall be relieved."
"By whom?"
She lifted her hand, warningly. "No questions, Ray. Can you manage all
this?"
He pondered a while, then said: "I think I can; I am a pretty good
actor, Conny. What do you say to my feigning illness?"
"He would find you out."
"Not if I did it well, perhaps. I think I could manage for a few days."
"It won't do, Ray. He would send you to bed and walk away and leave
you."
Ray groaned.
"Tell him your room is undergoing repairs, and throw yourself on his
mercy; then feign low spirits, and make him think it is his duty to
entertain and cheer you up."
"Capital, Conny! we can make that work I know; your wit is worth more
than my wisdom. For three days then, I am your watch dog."
"And your friend's guardian."
"Precisely. I begin to swell with importance. But seriously, Conny, let
me have your confidence at the earliest moment. For, whoever does battle
with Heath, will find me arrayed against him, and--it's difficult
fighting in the dark."
"You shall know all, as soon as possible, Ray, and now--"
"And now," repeated he, rising with alacrity. "Heath's horse stands
outside, and Heath himself waits my return; so, lest he should grow
impatient, and go where mischief awaits him, I will go now and begin my
task."
"Thank you, Ray, I know I can depend upon you. All this seems like a
scene out of a melodrama, but it's wretchedly real for all that. Ray, I
am just waking up to a knowledge of how much plotting and wickedness
there is in this world; even in our little world of W----."
"We all wake to that knowledge," he said, a spasm of pain crossing his
face. "You know how the lesson came to me, Conny."
"Yes, poor Ray! and I know that another suffers, even more than you,
because of it."
"And the cause of it all is another mystery. But no more of this; unless
something noteworthy occurs, you will not see me again for three days."
She gave him her hand, and a look of gratitude, and trust; and, in a few
moments more, the red roan steed was speeding back townward.
Francis Lamotte had found the doctor dull company; and, as he scarcely
ever remained in the office to read now-a-days, he had taken himself and
his dissatisfaction elsewhere, long before Ray returned to the office
ready to begin his new _rôle_.
He found the doctor sitting in a despondent attitude, almost where he
had left him, holding in his hand a crumpled letter.
Without appearing to notice his abstraction, Ray came at once to the
point at issue.
"Heath," he said, "your red roan is returned to you, and the loan of him
encourages me to ask another favor."
"Well!" said the doctor, without looking up or changing his attitude.
"The fact is," said Ray, with splendid ingenuousness, "I am a sort of
outcast. My quarters are undergoing that misery they call 'repairs,'
and--the truth is, Heath, I want you to tender me your hospitality, for,
say two or three days. I can't go to a public place; I don't feel like
facing the music, for I am a little sore yet, and I find that I am still
an object for commiseration, and I do get low spirited in spite of
myself. It's cheeky, my asking it, I know, and you'll find my constant
society a terrible bore; but my heart is set on quartering with you, so
don't say no, Heath."
Clifford Heath threw off his listlessness and looked up with his usual
cheery smile.
"Why, Ray, you young dog," he cried, "you beseech me like a veritable
tramp, just as if you were not as welcome as the sunshine; come along,
you shall share my bed, and board, and--I'll be hanged if you shan't
share the daily dose of abuse I have to take from my old housekeeper.
I'll make a special arrangement to that effect."
"Thanks, Heath," replied Ray, and then he turned to the window to hide
the fire that burned in his cheeks, because of the deceit he was
practicing upon this open-hearted friend. "But it's all for his
benefit," he thought; "at least I hope so."
"Well!" said the doctor, moving uneasily in his chair; "I hope your
mission prospered."
"Oh, yes," carelessly.
"You--found Miss Wardour well, I hope?"
"Quite well; only wanting my valuable assistance in a little scheme she
has on foot, a sort of benefit affair." And Ray congratulated himself on
the adaptability of his answer.
"Is it too late to drive, Heath?"
But the doctor made no answer to this question, nor did he seem to hear
it. Rising, he walked to the window, looked down thoughtfully into the
street for a moment, then, without turning, he said:
"Rumor says, that Miss Wardour will marry Lamotte."
"Yes."
"Lamotte just now made the same statement."
"Ah!" contemptuously, "it's like him to boast; but I'm afraid he tells
the truth; Constance admitted as much to me to-day."
A long time Clifford Heath stood motionless and silent at the window;
then turning as if spurred by some sudden thought, he threw the crumpled
note, which all the time had been clasped in his hand, upon the table
between them, saying:
"Here's a mystery, sir; read that and pass your opinion on it; as you
are to become my guest, you should know what society you will find
yourself in."
Ray eyed the letter with his head on one side.
"What is it?" he asked in a stage whisper.
"A note, a _billet doux_, a solemn warning; came under the door a little
while ago, while I was off in a reverie; came by a spirit hand, maybe,
for I never heard a sound, but there lay the letter waiting to be
observed and perused." And the doctor laughed contemptuously, and
turned away to prepare for his drive. But Ray's face lengthened
perceptibly, and he took up the note with sudden eagerness, and read:
DOCTOR HEATH:--Take the advice of a friend and leave W---- for
a time; a plot is ripening against you, and your only safety lies in
your absence, for your enemies are powerful and have woven a chain
about you that will render you helpless, perhaps ruin you utterly.
TRUTH.
Lose no time, for the blow will soon fall.
The note was written in a cramped, reversed hand, and, after a hasty
perusal, Ray bent his head and scanned the pen strokes closely, then he
looked up with all the color gone from his face, and a strange gleam in
his eyes.
"How--how do you say this came, Heath?"
"I didn't say, for I don't know, my lad. It made its first appearance
lying just there," and the doctor pointed with his wisp broom, which he
had been vigorously applying to a brown overcoat, at the spot just
inside the door where he had first perceived the letter, and then
resumed his occupation without observing the trouble in Ray's face.
"Sensational, isn't it? but I can't think of quitting W---- just as it
begins to grow interesting."
"Then you take no stock in this warning?"
"Bah! why should I?"
"But if you should have secret foes?"
"Let them come on," quoted the doctor, theatrically; "bring along that
precious document, Ray, and come along yourself."
Ray Vandyck, still looking troubled and anxious, arose, and, with
lagging steps, followed his friend; as he noted with a new curiosity the
tall, lithe, well knit figure striding on before him, the handsome,
haughtily poised head, and the careless indifference of mien, he asked
himself:
"What can it be, this mystery and danger that surrounds him, that has
caused Constance Wardour to take such unprecedented measures to insure
his safety, and has wrung from Sybil Lamotte this strangely worded,
oddly and ineffectually disguised warning," for Ray, seeing not as the
world sees, but with the eyes of love, had recognized in the strange
scrawl the hand of the woman he had loved and lost.
"Heath _is_ in some peril," thought he, and then, with a rueful sigh,
"Oh! I would risk dangers too to be watched over by two such women."