CHAPTER XXVII.

When Jay Gardiner left the city, he had expected to be gone a week,

possibly a fortnight; but, owing to an unexpected turn in the business

he was transacting, he was enabled to settle it in a day or so, and

return to the city.

It was by the merest chance that he took passage by boat instead of

going by rail; or, more truly speaking, there was a fate in it. The boat

was due at the wharf by midnight; but, owing to an unaccountable delay,

caused by the breaking of some machinery in the engine-room, it was

after one o'clock when the steamer touched the wharf.

Doctor Gardiner was not in such a hurry as the rest of the passengers

were, and he walked leisurely across the gang-plank, pausing, as he

reached the pier, to look back at the lights on the water.

He felt just in the mood to pause there and enjoy what comfort he could

find in a good cigar. He was just about to light a cigar, when his gaze

was suddenly attracted toward a slender object--the figure of a woman

sitting on the very edge of the pier.

She was in the shadow cast by a large post; but he knew from the

position in which she sat, that she must be looking intently into the

water.

He did not like the steady gaze with which she seemed to be looking

downward, and the young doctor determined to watch her. He drew back

into the shadow of one of the huge stanchions, and refrained from

lighting his cigar.

If she would but change her dangerous position, he would call out to

her; and he wondered where was the watchman who was supposed to guard

those piers and prevent accidents of this kind.

While he was pondering over this matter, the figure rose suddenly to its

feet, and he readily surmised from its slender, graceful build, which

was but dimly outlined against the dark pier, that she must be a young

girl.

What was she doing there at that unseemly hour? Watching for some sailor

lover whose ship was bearing him to her from over the great dark sea, or

was she watching for a brother or father?

He had little time to speculate on this theme, however, for the next

instant a piteous cry broke from the girl's lips--a cry in a voice

strangely familiar; a cry that sent the blood bounding through his heart

like an electric shock--and before he could take a step forward to

prevent it, the slender figure had sprung over the pier.

By the time Jay Gardiner reached the edge of the dock, the dark waters

had closed over her head, a few eddying ripples only marking the spot

where she had gone down.

In an instant Doctor Gardiner tore off his coat and sprung into the

water to the rescue. When he rose to the surface, looking eagerly about

for the young girl whom he was risking his life to save, he saw a white

face appear on the surface. He struck out toward it, but ere he reached

the spot, it sunk. Again he dived, and yet again, a great fear

oppressing him that his efforts would be in vain, when he saw the white

face go down for the third and last time.

With a mighty effort Doctor Gardiner dove again. This time his hands

struck something. He grasped it firmly. It was a tightly-clinched little

hand.

Up through the water he bore the slender form, and struck out for the

pier with his burden.

Doctor Gardiner was an expert swimmer, but it was with the utmost

difficulty that he succeeded in reaching the pier, owing to the swell

caused by the many steamboats passing. But it was accomplished at last,

and almost on the verge of exhaustion himself, he succeeded in effecting

a landing and laying his burden upon the pier.

"She is half drowned as it is," he muttered, bending closer to look at

the pallid face under the flickering light of the gas-lamp.

As his eyes rested upon the girl's face, a mighty cry broke from his

lips, and he staggered back as though a terrible blow had been dealt

him.

"Great God! it is Bernardine!" he gasped.

The discovery fairly stunned him--took his breath away. Then he

remembered that the girl was dying; that every instant of time was

precious if he would save her.

He worked over her as though his life were at stake, and his efforts

were rewarded at last when the dark eyes opened languidly.

"Bernardine," he cried, kneeling beside her on the pier, his voice husky

with emotion, "why did you do this terrible deed? Speak, my love, my

darling!"

And almost before he was aware of it, he had clasped her to his heart,

and was raining passionate kisses on the cheek, neck, and pale cold lips

of the girl he loved better than life.

She did not seem to realize what had transpired; she did not recognize

him.

"Do not take me home!" she sobbed, incoherently, over and over again.

"Anywhere but there. He--he--will kill me!"

These words alarmed Doctor Gardiner greatly. What could they mean? He

knew full well that this must have been the last thought that crossed

her brain ere she took the fatal leap, or it would not have been the

first one to flash across her mind with returning consciousness.

He saw, too, that she was getting into a delirium, and that she must be

removed with all possible haste.

He did not know of Miss Rogers being in her home, and he reasoned with

himself that there was no one to take care of her there, save the old

basket-maker, and she could not have a worse companion in her present

condition; therefore he must take her elsewhere.

Then it occurred to him that a very excellent nurse--a widow whom he had

often recommended to his patients--must live very near that vicinity,

and he determined to take her there, and then go after her father and

bring him to her.

There was an old hack jostling by. Jay Gardiner hailed it, and placing

Bernardine within, took a place by her side. In a few moments they were

at their destination.

The old nurse was always expecting a summons to go to some patient; but

she was quite dumbfounded to see who her caller was at that strange

hour, and to see that he held an unconscious young girl in his arms.

Jay Gardiner explained the situation to the old nurse.

"I will not come again for a fortnight, nurse," he said, unsteadily, on

leaving. "That will be best under the circumstances. She may be ill, but

not in danger. I will send her father to her in the meantime."

"What an honorable man Jay Gardiner is!" thought the nurse, admiringly.

"Not every man could have the strength of mind to keep away from the

girl he loved, even if he was bound to another."

Doctor Gardiner dared not take even another glance at Bernardine, his

heart was throbbing so madly, but turned and hurried from the house, and

re-entering the cab, drove rapidly away.

He had planned to go directly to David Moore; but on second thought he

concluded to wait until morning.

It would be a salutary lesson to the old basket-maker to miss

Bernardine, and realize how much he depended upon the young girl for his

happiness.

This was a fatal resolve for him to reach, as will be plainly seen.

As soon as he had finished his breakfast, he hurried to the Canal Street

tenement house.

There was no commotion outside; evidently the neighbors had not heard of

Bernardine's disappearance, and he doubted whether or not her father

knew of it yet.

Jay Gardiner had barely stepped from the pavement into the dark and

narrow hall-way ere he found himself face to face with Jasper Wilde.

The doctor would have passed him by with a haughty nod, but with one

leap Wilde was at his side, his strong hands closing around his throat,

while he cried out, in a voice fairly convulsed with passion:

"Aha! You have walked right into my net, and at the right moment. Where

is Bernardine? She fled from me last night, and went directly to your

arms, of course. Tell me where she is, that I may go to her and wreak my

vengeance upon her! Answer me quickly, or I will kill you!"

Jay Gardiner was surprised for an instant; but it was only for an

instant. In the next, he had recovered himself.

"You cur, to take a man at a disadvantage like that!" he cried; adding,

as he swung out his muscular right arm: "But as you have brought this

upon yourself, I will give you enough of it!"

Two or three ringing blows showed Jasper Wilde, that, bully though he

was, he had met his match in this white-handed aristocrat.

He drew back, uttering a peculiar sharp whistle, and two men, who were

evidently in his employ, advanced quickly to Wilde's aid.

"Bind and gag this fellow!" he commanded, "and throw him down into the

wine-cellar to await my coming! He's a thief. He has just stolen my

pocket-book. Quick, my lads; don't listen to what he says!"

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