A FAMILY GREETING.
When Gabriel opened his eyes to consciousness, he was lying on the floor
of the jury room, his head supported by Olly, and a slight, graceful,
womanly figure, that had been apparently bending over him, in the act of
slowly withdrawing from his awakening gaze. It was his sister Grace.
"Thar, you're better now," said Olly, taking her brother's hand, and
quietly ignoring her sister, on whom Gabriel's eyes were still fixed.
"Try and raise yourself inter this chair. Thar--thar now--that's a good
old Gabe--thar! I reckon you're more comfortable!"
"It's Gracey!" whispered Gabriel, hoarsely, with his eyes still fixed
upon the slight, elegantly dressed woman, who now, leaning against the
doorway, stood coldly regarding him. "It's Gracey--your sister, Olly!"
"Ef you mean the woman who hez been tryin' her best to swar away your
life, and kem here allowin' to do it--she ain't no sister o' mine--not,"
added Olly, with a withering glance at the simple elegance of her
sister's attire, "not even ef she does trapse in yer in frills and
tuckers--more shame for her!"
"If you mean," said Grace, coldly, "the girl whose birthright you took
away by marrying the woman who stole it, if you mean the girl who
rightfully bears the name that you denied, under oath, in the very
shadow of the gallows, she claims nothing of you but her name."
"Thet's so," said Gabriel, simply. He dropped his head between his great
hands, and a sudden tremor shook his huge frame.
"Ye ain't goin' to be driv inter histeriks agin along o' that
crockidill," said Olly, bending over her brother in alarm. "Don't
ye--don't ye cry, Gabe!" whimpered Olly, as a few drops oozed between
Gabriel's fingers; "don't ye take on, darling, _afore her_!"
The two sisters glared at each other over the helpless man between them.
Then another woman entered who looked sympathetically at Gabriel and
then glared at them both. It was Mrs Markle. At which, happily for
Gabriel, the family bickering ceased.
"It's all over, Gabriel! you're clar!" said Mrs. Markle, ignoring the
sympathies as well as the presence of the two other ladies. "Here's Mr.
Poinsett."
He entered quickly, but stopped and flushed slightly under the cold eyes
of Grace Conroy. But only for a moment. Coming to Gabriel's side, he
said, kindly, "Gabriel, I congratulate you. The acting District Attorney
has entered a _nolle prosequi_, and you are discharged."
"Ye mean I kin go?" said Gabriel, suddenly lifting his face.
"Yes. You are as free as air."
"And ez to _her_?" asked Gabriel, quickly.
"Who do you mean?" replied Arthur, involuntarily glancing in the
direction of Grace, whose eyes dropped scornfully before him.
"My wife--July--is _she_ clar too?"
"As far as this trial is concerned, yes," returned Arthur, with a trifle
less interest in his voice, which Gabriel was quick to discern.
"Then I'll go," said Gabriel, rising to his feet. He made a few steps to
the door and then hesitated, stopped, and turned toward Grace. As he did
so his old apologetic, troubled, diffident manner returned.
"Ye'll exkoos me, miss," he said, looking with troubled eyes upon his
newly-found sister, "ye'll exkoos me, ef I haven't the time now to do
the agreeable and show ye over yer property on Conroy's Hill. But it's
thar! It's all thar, ez Lawyer Maxwell kin testify. It's all thar and
the house is open, ez it always was to ye, ez the young woman who keeps
the house kin tell ye. I'd go thar with ye ef I hed time, but I'm
startin' out now, to-night, to see July. To see my wife, Miss Conroy, to
see July ez is expectin'! And I reckon thar'll be a baby--a pore little,
helpless newborn baby--ony _so_ long!" added Gabriel, exhibiting his
forefinger as a degree of mensuration; "and ez a fammerly man, being
ladies, I reckon you reckon I oughter be thar." (I grieve to state that
at this moment the ladies appealed to exchanged a glance of supreme
contempt, and am proud to record that Lawyer Maxwell and Mr. Poinsett
exhibited the only expression of sympathy with the speaker that was
noticeable in the group.)
Arthur detected it and said, I fear none the less readily for that
knowledge--
"Don't let us keep you, Gabriel; we understand your feelings. Go at
once."
"Take me along, Gabe," said Olly, flashing her eyes at her sister, and
then turning to Gabriel with a quivering upper lip.
Gabriel turned, swooped his tremendous arm around Olly, lifted her
bodily off her feet, and saying, "You're my own little girl," vanished
through the doorway.
This movement reduced the group to Mrs. Markle and Grace Conroy,
confronted by Mr. Poinsett and Maxwell. Mrs. Markle relieved an
embarrassing silence by stepping forward and taking the arm of Lawyer
Maxwell and leading him away. Arthur and Grace were left alone.
For the first time in his life Arthur lost his readiness and
self-command. He glanced awkwardly at the woman before him, and felt
that neither conventional courtesy nor vague sentimental recollection
would be effective here.
"I am waiting for my maid," said Grace, coldly; "if, as you return to
the Court-room, you will send her here, you will oblige me."
Arthur bowed confusedly.
"Your maid"----
"Yes; you know her, I think, Mr. Poinsett," continued Grace, lifting her
arched brows with cold surprise. "Manuela!"
Arthur turned pale and red. He was conscious of being not only awkward
but ridiculous.
"Pardon me--perhaps I am troubling you--I will go myself," said Grace,
contemptuously.
"One moment, Miss Conroy," said Arthur, instinctively stepping before
her as she moved as if to pass him, "one moment, I beg." He paused, and
then said, with less deliberation and more impulsively than had been his
habit for the last six years, "You will, perhaps, be more forgiving to
your brother if you know that I, who have had the pleasure of meeting
you since--you were lost to us all--I, who have not had his
pre-occupation of interest in another--even I, have been as blind, as
foolish, as seemingly heartless as he. You will remember this, Miss
Conroy--I hope quite as much for its implied compliment to your complete
disguise, and an evidence of the success of your own endeavours to
obliterate your identity, as for its being an excuse for your brother's
conduct, if not for my own. _I_ did not know you."
Grace Conroy paused and raised her dark eyes to his.
"You spoke of my brother's pre-occupation with--with the woman for whom
he would have sacrificed anything--_me_--his very life! I can--I am a
woman--I can understand _that_! You have forgotten, Don Arturo, you have
forgotten--pardon me--I am not finding fault--it is not for me to find
fault--but you have forgotten--Donna Maria Sepulvida!"
She swept by him with a rustle of silk and lace, and was gone. His heart
gave a sudden bound; he was about to follow her, when he was met at the
door by the expanding bosom of Colonel Starbottle.
"Permit me, sir, as a gentleman, as a man of--er--er--er--honour! to
congratulate you, sir! When we--er--er--parted in San Francisco I did
not think that I would have the--er--er--pleasure--a rare pleasure to
Colonel Starbottle, sir, in his private as well as his--er--er--public
capacity, of--er--er--a PUBLIC APOLOGY. Ged, sir! I have made it! Ged,
sir! when I entered that _nolle pros._, I said to myself, 'Star., this
is an apology--an apology, sir! But you are responsible, sir, you are
responsible, Star.! personally responsible!'"
"I thank you," said Arthur, abstractedly, still straining his eyes after
the retreating figure of Grace Conroy, and trying to combat a sudden
instinctive jealously of the man before him, "I thank you, Colonel, on
behalf of my client and myself."
"Ged, sir," said Colonel Starbottle, blocking up the way, with a general
expansiveness of demeanour, "Ged, sir, this is not all. You will
remember that our recent interview in San Francisco was regarding
another and a different issue. That, sir, I am proud to say,
the developments of evidence in this trial have honourably
and--er--er--as a lawyer, I may say, have legally settled. With
the--er--er--identification and legal--er--er--rehabilitation of Grace
Conroy, that claim of my client falls to the ground. You may state to
your client, Mr. Poinsett, that--er--er--upon my own personal
responsibility I abandon the claim."
Arthur Poinsett stopped and looked fixedly at the gallant Colonel. Even
in his sentimental pre-occupation the professional habit triumphed.
"You withdraw Mrs. Dumphy's claim upon Mr. Dumphy?" he said, slowly.
Colonel Starbottle did not verbally reply, but that gallant warrior
allowed the facial muscles on the left side of his face to relax so that
one eye was partially closed.
"Yes, sir,--there is a matter of a few thousand dollars
that--er--er--you understand, I am--er--er--personally responsible for."
"That will never be claimed, Colonel Starbottle," said Arthur, smiling,
"and I am only echoing, I am sure, the sentiments of the man most
concerned, who is approaching us--Mr. Dumphy."