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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
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+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #69514 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69514)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The best man, by Grace Livingston Hill
-Lutz
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The best man
-
-Author: Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
-
-Illustrator: Gayle Hoskins
-
-Release Date: December 9, 2022 [eBook #69514]
-
-Most recently updated: February 2, 2023
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Steve Mattern, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
- produced from images generously made available by The
- Internet Archive)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST MAN ***
-
-
-[Illustration: Before she could reply, the express train roared above
-them
- _Page 151_]
-
-
-
-
- THE BEST MAN
-
- BY
- GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ
-
- AUTHOR OF
- VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, ETC.
-
- FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR BY
- GAYLE HOSKINS
-
- [Illustration]
-
- GROSSET & DUNLAP
- PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
-
- Made in the United States of America
-
-
-
-
- COPYRIGHT, 1913. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
- COPYRIGHT, 1914. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
-
- PUBLISHED JANUARY, 1914
-
-
-
-
- The Best Man
-
- SIXTH EDITION
-
-
-
-
-THE BEST MAN
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-
-Cyril Gordon had been seated at his desk but ten minutes and was deep
-in the morning’s mail when there came an urgent message from his chief,
-summoning him to an immediate audience in the inner office.
-
-The chief had keen blue eyes and shaggy eyebrows. He never wasted
-words; yet those words when spoken had more weight than those of most
-other men in Washington.
-
-There was the briefest of good-morning gleams in his nod and glance,
-but he only said:
-
-“Gordon, can you take the Pennsylvania train for New York that leaves
-the station in thirty-two minutes?”
-
-The young man was used to abrupt questions from his chief, but he
-caught his breath, mentally surveying his day as it had been planned:
-
-“Why, sir, I suppose I could--if it is necessary----” He hesitated.
-
-“It is necessary,” said the chief curtly, as if that settled the
-matter.
-
-“But--half an hour!” ejaculated Gordon in dismay. “I could hardly get
-to my rooms and back to the station. I don’t see how---- Isn’t there a
-train a little later?”
-
-“Later train won’t do. Call up your man on the ’phone. Tell him to pack
-your bag and meet you at the station in twenty minutes. You’ll need
-evening clothes. Can you depend on your man to get your things quickly
-without fail?”
-
-There was that in the tone of the chief that caused Gordon to make no
-further demur.
-
-“Sure!” he responded with his usual business-like tone, as he strode to
-the ’phone. His daze was passing off. “Evening clothes?” he questioned
-curiously, as if he might not have heard aright.
-
-“Yes, evening clothes,” was the curt answer, “and everything you’ll
-need for daytime for a respectable gentleman of leisure--a tourist, you
-understand.”
-
-Gordon perceived that he was being given a mission of trust and
-importance, not unmixed with mystery perhaps. He was new in the secret
-service, and it had been his ambition to rise in his chief’s good
-graces. He rang the telephone bell furiously and called up the number
-of his own apartments, giving his man orders in a breezy, decisive tone
-that caused a look of satisfaction to settle about the fine wrinkles
-of the chief’s eyes.
-
-Gordon’s watch was out and he was telling his man on just what car he
-must leave the apartments for the station. The chief noted it was two
-cars ahead of what would have been necessary. His gray head gave an
-almost imperceptible nod of commendation, and his eyes showed that he
-was content with his selection of a man.
-
-“Now, sir,” said Gordon, as he hung up the receiver, “I’m ready for
-orders.”
-
-“Well, you are to go to New York, and take a cab for the Cosmopolis
-Hotel--your room there is already secured by wire. Your name is John
-Burnham. The name of the hotel and the number of your room are on
-this memorandum. You will find awaiting you an invitation to dine
-this evening with a Mr. Holman, who knows of you as an expert in
-code-reading. Our men met him on the train an hour ago and arranged
-that he should invite you. He didn’t know whom they represented, of
-course. He has already tried to ’phone you at the hotel about coming to
-dinner to-night. He knows you are expected there before evening. Here
-is a letter of introduction to him from a man he knows. Our men got
-that also. It is genuine, of course.
-
-“Last night a message of national importance, written in cipher, was
-stolen from one of our men before it had been read. This is now in the
-hands of Holman, who is hoping to have you decipher it for him and a
-few guests who will also be present at dinner. They wish to use it for
-their own purposes. Your commission is to get hold of the message and
-bring it to us as soon as possible. Another message of very different
-import, written upon the same kind of paper, is in this envelope,
-with a translation for you to use in case you have to substitute a
-message. You will have to use your own wits and judgment. The main
-thing is, _get the paper_, and _get back with it_, with as little
-delay as possible. Undoubtedly your life will be in danger should it
-be discovered that you have made off with it. Spare no care to protect
-yourself _and the message_, at all hazards. Remember, I said, _and the
-message_, young man! It means much to the country.
-
-“In this envelope is money--all you will probably need. Telegraph or
-’phone to this address if you are in trouble. Draw on us for more, if
-necessary, also through this same address. Here is the code you can
-use in case you find it necessary to telegraph. Your ticket is already
-bought. I have sent Clarkson to the station for it, and he will meet
-you at the train. You can give him instructions in case you find you
-have forgotten anything. Take your mail with you, and telegraph back
-orders to your stenographer. I think that is all. Oh, yes, to-night,
-while you are at dinner, you will be called to the ’phone by one of
-our men. If you are in trouble, this may give you opportunity to
-get away, and put us wise. You will find a motor at the door now,
-waiting to take you to the station. If your man doesn’t get there
-with your things, take the train, anyway, and buy some more when you
-get to New York. Don’t turn aside from your commission for anything.
-Don’t let _anything_ hinder you! Make it a matter of life and death!
-Good-morning, and good luck!”
-
-The chief held out a big, hairy hand that was surprisingly warm and
-soft considering the hardness of his face and voice, and the young man
-grasped it, feeling as if he were suddenly being plunged into waves of
-an unknown depth and he would fain hold on to this strong hand.
-
-He went out of the office quietly enough, and the keen old eyes watched
-him knowingly, understanding the beating of the heart under Gordon’s
-well-fitting business coat, the mingled elation and dread over the
-commission. But there had been no hesitancy, no question of acceptance,
-when the nature of the commission was made known. The young man was
-“game.” He would do. Not even an eyelash had flickered at the hint
-of danger. The chief felt he would be faithful even in the face of
-possible death.
-
-Gordon’s man came rushing into the station just after he reached there
-himself. Clarkson was already there with the ticket. Gordon had time to
-scribble a message to Julia Bentley, whose perfumed scrawl he had read
-on the way down. Julia had bidden him to her presence that evening. He
-could not tell whether he was relieved or sorry to tell her he could
-not come. It began to look to him a good deal as if he would ask Julia
-Bentley to marry him some day, when she got tired of playing all the
-others off against him, and he could make up his mind to surrender his
-freedom to any woman.
-
-He bought a paper and settled himself comfortably in the parlor-car,
-but his interest was not in the paper. His strange commission engaged
-all his thoughts. He took out the envelope containing instructions and
-went over the matter, looking curiously at the cipher message and its
-translation, which, however, told him nothing. It was the old chief’s
-way to keep the business to himself until such time as he chose to
-explain. Doubtless it was safer for both message and messenger that he
-did not know the full import of what he was undertaking.
-
-Gordon carefully noted down everything that his chief had told him,
-comparing it with the written instructions in the envelope; arranged
-in his mind just how he would proceed when he reached New York; tried
-to think out a good plan for recovering the stolen message, but could
-not; and so decided to trust to the inspiration of the moment. Then it
-occurred to him to clear his overcoat pockets of any letters or other
-tell-tale articles and stow them in his suit-case. He might have to
-leave his overcoat behind him. So it would be well to have no clues for
-anyone to follow.
-
-Having arranged these matters, and prepared a few letters with notes
-for his stenographer, to be mailed back to her from Philadelphia, he
-reread Julia Bentley’s note. When every angular line of her tall script
-was imprinted on his memory, he tore the perfumed note into tiny pieces
-and dropped them from the car window.
-
-The question was, did he or did he not want to ask Julia Bentley to
-become his wife? He had no doubt as to what her answer would be. Julia
-had made it pretty plain to him that she would rather have him than any
-of her other admirers; though she did like to keep them all attendant
-upon her. Well, that was her right so long as she was unmarried. He had
-no fault to find with her. She was a fine girl, and everybody liked
-her. Also, she was of a good family, and with a modest fortune in her
-own right. Everybody was taking it for granted that they liked each
-other. It was time he was married and had a real home, he supposed,
-whatever that was--that seemed to have so great a charm for all his
-friends. To his eyes, it had as yet taken on no alluring mirage effect.
-He had never known a real home, more than his quiet bachelor apartments
-were to him now, where his man ordered everything as he was told,
-and the meals were sent up when wanted. He had money enough from his
-inheritance to make things more than comfortable, and he was deeply
-interested in the profession he had chosen.
-
-Still, if he was ever going to marry, it was high time, of course. But
-did he want Julia? He could not quite make it seem pleasant to think of
-her in his rooms when he came home at night tired; she would always be
-wanting to go to her endless theatre parties and receptions and dances;
-always be demanding his attention. She was bright and handsome and well
-dressed, but he had never made love to her. He could not quite imagine
-himself doing so. How did men make love, anyway? Could one call it love
-when it was “made” love? These questions followed one another idly
-through his brain as the landscape whirled past him. If he had stayed
-at home, he would have spent the evening with Julia, as she requested
-in her note, and there would probably have been a quiet half-hour after
-other callers had gone when he would have stayed as he had been doing
-of late, and tried to find out whether he really cared for her or not.
-
-Suppose, for instance, they were married, and she sat beside him now.
-Would any glad thrill fill his heart as he looked at her beautiful face
-and realized that she was his? He tried to look over toward the next
-chair and imagine that the tired, fat old lady with the double chin and
-the youthful purple hat was Julia, but that would not work. He whirled
-his chair about and tried it on an empty chair. That went better; but
-still no thrill of joy lifted him out of his sordid self. He could not
-help thinking about little trying details. The way Julia looked when
-she was vexed. Did one mind that in the woman one loved? The way she
-ordered her coachman about. Would she ever speak so to her husband? She
-had a charming smile, but her frown was--well--unbecoming to say the
-least.
-
-He tried to keep up the fallacy of her presence. He bought a magazine
-that he knew she liked, and read a story to her (in imagination). He
-could easily tell how her black eyes would snap at certain phrases she
-disliked. He knew just what her comment would be upon the heroine’s
-conduct. It was an old disputed point between them. He knew how she
-would criticize the hero, and somehow he felt himself in the hero’s
-place every time she did it. The story had not been a success, and he
-felt a weariness as he laid the magazine aside at the call for dinner
-from the dining-car.
-
-Before he had finished his luncheon he had begun to feel that though
-Julia might think now that she would like to marry him, the truth
-about it was that she would not enjoy the actual life together any
-better than he would. Were all marriages like that? Did people lose
-the glamour and just settle down to endure each other’s faults and
-make the most of each other’s pleasant side, and not have anything
-more? Or was he getting cynical? Had he lived alone too long, as his
-friends sometimes told him, and so was losing the ability really to
-love anybody but himself? He knit his brows, and got up whistling to go
-out and see why the train had stopped so long in this little country
-settlement.
-
-It was just beyond Princeton, and they were not far now from New York.
-It would be most annoying to be delayed so near to his destination. He
-was anxious to get things in train for his evening of hard work. It
-was necessary to find out how the land lay as soon as possible.
-
-It appeared that there was a wrecked freight ahead of them, and there
-would be delay. No one knew just how long; it would depend on how soon
-the wrecking train arrived to help.
-
-Gordon walked nervously up and down the grass at the side of the track,
-looking anxiously each way for sign of the wrecking train. The thought
-of Julia did occur to him, but he put it impatiently away, for he knew
-just how poorly Julia would bear a delay on a journey even in his
-company. He had been with her once when the engine got off the track
-on a short trip down to a Virginia house-party, and she was the most
-impatient creature alive, although it mattered not one whit to any of
-the rest of the party whether they made merry on the train or at their
-friend’s house. And yet, if Julia were anything at all to him, would
-not he like the thought of her companionship now?
-
-A great white dog hobbled up to him and fawned upon him as he turned
-to go back to the train, and he laid his hand kindly upon the animal’s
-head, and noted the wistful eyes upon his face. He was a noble dog, and
-Gordon stood for a moment fondling him. Then he turned impatiently and
-tramped back to his car again. But when he reached the steps he found
-that the dog had followed him.
-
-Gordon frowned, half in annoyance, half in amusement, and sitting down
-on a log by the wayside he took the dog’s pink nozzle into his hands,
-caressing the white fur above it gently.
-
-The dog whined happily, and Gordon meditated. How long would the train
-wait? Would he miss getting to New York in time for the dinner? Would
-he miss the chance to rise in his chief’s good graces? The chief would
-expect him to get to New York some other way if the train were delayed.
-How long ought he to wait on possibilities?
-
-All at once he saw the conductor and trainmen coming back hurriedly.
-Evidently the train was about to start. With a final kindly stroke of
-the white head, he called a workman nearby, handed him half a dollar to
-hold the dog, and sprang on board.
-
-He had scarcely settled himself into his chair, however, before the
-dog came rushing up the aisle from the other end of the car, and
-precipitated himself muddily and noisily upon him.
-
-With haste and perturbation Gordon hurried the dog to the door and
-tried to fling him off, but the poor creature pulled back and clung to
-the platform yelping piteously.
-
-Just then the conductor came from the other car and looked at him
-curiously.
-
-“No dogs allowed in these cars,” he said gruffly.
-
-“Well, if you know how to enforce that rule I wish you would,” said
-Gordon. “I’m sure I don’t know what to do with him.”
-
-“Where has he been since you left Washington?” asked the grim conductor
-with suspicion in his eyes.
-
-“I certainly haven’t had him secreted about me, a dog of that size,”
-remarked the young man dryly. “Besides, he isn’t my dog. I never saw
-him before till he followed me at the station. I’m as anxious to be rid
-of him as he is to stay.”
-
-The conductor eyed the young man keenly, and then allowed a grim sense
-of humor to appear in one corner of his mouth.
-
-“Got a chain or a rope for him?” he asked more sympathetically.
-
-“Well, no,” remarked the unhappy attaché of the dog. “Not having had an
-appointment with the dog I didn’t provide myself with a leash for him.”
-
-“Take him into the baggage-car,” said the conductor briefly, and
-slammed his way into the next car.
-
-There seemed nothing else to be done, but it was most annoying to
-be thus forced on the notice of his fellow-travellers, when his
-commission required that he be as inconspicuous as possible.
-
-At Jersey City he hoped to escape and leave the dog to the tender
-mercies of the baggage man, but that official was craftily waiting
-for him and handed the animal over to his unwilling master with a
-satisfaction ill-proportioned to the fee he had received for caring for
-him.
-
-Then began a series of misfortunes. Disappointment and suspicion
-stalked beside him, and behind him a voice continually whispered his
-chief’s last injunction: “Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-
-Frantically he tried first one place and then another, but all to no
-effect. Nobody apparently wanted to care for a stray white dog, and
-his very haste aroused suspicion. Once he came near being arrested as
-a dog thief. He could not get rid of that dog! Yet he must not let him
-follow him! Would he have to have the animal sent home to Washington as
-the only solution of the problem? Then a queer fancy seized him that
-just in some such way had Miss Julia Bentley been shadowing his days
-for nearly three years now; and he had actually this very day been
-considering calmly whether he might not have to marry her, just because
-she was so persistent in her taking possession of him. Not that she was
-unladylike, of course; no, indeed! She was stately and beautiful, and
-had never offended. But she had always quietly, persistently, taken it
-for granted that he would be her attendant whenever she chose; and she
-always chose whenever he was in the least inclined to enjoy any other
-woman’s company.
-
-He frowned at himself. Was there something weak about his character
-that a woman or a dog could so easily master him? Would any other
-employee in the office, once trusted with his great commission, have
-allowed it to be hindered by a dog?
-
-Gordon could not afford to waste any more time. He must get rid of him
-at once!
-
-The express office would not take a dog without a collar and chain
-unless he was crated; and the delays and exasperating hindrances seemed
-to be interminable. But at last, following the advice of a kindly
-officer, he took the dog to an institution in New York where, he was
-told, dogs were boarded and cared for, and where he finally disposed
-of him, having first paid ten dollars for the privilege. As he settled
-back in a taxicab with his watch in his hand, he congratulated himself
-that he had still ample time to reach his hotel and get into evening
-dress before he must present himself for his work.
-
-Within three blocks of the hotel the cab came to such a sudden
-standstill that Gordon was thrown to his knees.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-
-They were surrounded immediately by a crowd in which policemen were
-a prominent feature. The chauffeur seemed dazed in the hands of the
-officers.
-
-A little, barefoot, white-faced figure huddled limply in the midst
-showed Gordon what had happened: also there were menacing glances
-towards himself and a show of lifted stones. He heard one boy say: “You
-bet he’s in a hurry to git away. Them kind allus is. They don’t care
-who they kills, they don’t!”
-
-A great horror seized him. The cab had run over a newsboy and perhaps
-killed him. Yet instantly came the remembrance of his commission:
-“Don’t let anything hinder you. Make it a matter of life and death!”
-Well, it looked as if this was a matter of death that hindered him now.
-
-They bundled the moaning boy into the taxicab and as Gordon saw no
-escape through the tightly packed crowd, who eyed him suspiciously, he
-climbed in beside the grimy little scrap of unconscious humanity, and
-they were off to the hospital to the tune of “Don’t let anything hinder
-you! Don’t let anything hinder you!” until Gordon felt that if it did
-not stop soon he would go crazy. He meditated opening the cab door and
-making his escape in spite of the speed they were making, but a vision
-of broken legs and a bed in the hospital for himself held him to his
-seat. One of the policemen had climbed on in front with the chauffeur,
-and now and again he glanced back as if he were conveying a couple of
-prisoners to jail. It was vexatious beyond anything! And all on account
-of that white dog! Could anything be more ridiculous than the whole
-performance?
-
-His annoyance and irritation almost made him forget that it was his
-progress through the streets that had silenced this mite beside him.
-But just as he looked at his watch for the fifth time the boy opened
-his eyes and moaned, and there was in those eyes a striking resemblance
-to the look in the eyes of the dog of whose presence he had but just
-rid himself.
-
-Gordon started. In spite of himself it seemed as if the dog were
-reproaching him through the eyes of the child. Then suddenly the boy
-spoke.
-
-“Will yous stay by me till I’m mended?” whispered the weak little voice.
-
-Gordon’s heart leaped in horror again, and it came to him that he
-was being tried out this day to see if he had the right stuff in him
-for hard tasks. The appeal in the little street-boy’s eyes reached
-him as no request had ever yet done, and yet he might not answer it.
-Duty,--life and death duty,--called him elsewhere, and he must leave
-the little fellow whom he had been the involuntary cause of injuring,
-to suffer and perhaps to die. It cut him to the quick not to respond to
-that urgent appeal.
-
-Was it because he was weary that he was visited just then by a vision
-of Julia Bentley with her handsome lips curled scornfully? Julia
-Bentley would not have approved of his stopping to carry a boy to the
-hospital, any more than to care for a dog’s comfort.
-
-“Look here, kiddie,” he said gently, leaning over the child, “I’d stay
-by you if I could, but I’ve already made myself late for an appointment
-by coming so far with you. Do you know what Duty is?”
-
-The child nodded sorrowfully.
-
-“Don’t yous mind me,” he murmured weakly. “Just yous go. I’m game all
-right.” Then the voice trailed off into silence again, and the eyelids
-fluttered down upon the little, grimy, unconscious face.
-
-Gordon went into the hospital for a brief moment to leave some money in
-the hands of the authorities for the benefit of the boy, and a message
-that he would return in a week or two if possible; then hurried away.
-
-Back in the cab once more, he felt as if he had killed a man and left
-him lying by the roadside while he continued his unswerving march
-toward the hideous duty which was growing momently more portentous, and
-to be relieved of which he would gladly have surrendered further hope
-of his chief’s favor. He closed his eyes and tried to think, but all
-the time the little white face of the child came before his vision,
-and the mocking eyes of Julia Bentley tantalized him, as if she were
-telling him that he had spoiled all his chances--and hers--by his
-foolish soft-heartedness. Though, what else could he have done than he
-had done, he asked himself fiercely.
-
-He looked at his watch. It was at least ten minutes’ ride to the
-hotel, the best time they could make. Thanks to his man the process of
-dressing for evening would not take long, for he knew that everything
-would be in place and he would not be hindered. He would make short
-work of his toilet. But there was his suit-case. It would not do to
-leave it at the hotel, neither must he take it with him to the house
-where he was to be a guest. There was nothing for it but to go around
-by the way of the station where it would have to be checked. That meant
-a longer ride and more delay, but it must be done.
-
-Arrived at the hotel at last and in the act of signing the unaccustomed
-“John Burnham” in the hotel registry, there came a call to the
-telephone.
-
-With a hand that trembled from excitement he took the receiver. His
-breath went from him as though he had just run up five flights of
-stairs. “Yes? Hello! Oh, Mrs. Holman. Yes! Burnham. I’ve but just
-arrived. I was delayed. A wreck ahead of the train. Very kind of you to
-invite me, I’m sure. Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments, as soon as I
-can get rid of the dust of travel. Thank you. Good-by.”
-
-It all sounded very commonplace to the clerk, who was making out bills
-and fretting because he could not get off to take his girl to the
-theatre that night, but as Gordon hung up the receiver he looked around
-furtively as if expecting to see a dozen detectives ready to seize upon
-him. It was the first time he had ever undertaken a commission under an
-assumed name and he felt as if he were shouting his commission through
-the streets of New York.
-
-The young man made short work of his toilet. Just as he was leaving the
-hotel a telegram was handed him. It was from his chief, and so worded
-that to the operator who had copied it down it read like a hasty call
-to Boston; but to his code-enlightened eyes it was merely a blind to
-cover his exit from the hotel and from New York, and set any possible
-hunters on a wrong scent. He marvelled at the wonderful mind of his
-chief, who thought out every detail of an important campaign, and
-forgot not one little possible point where difficulty might arise.
-
-Gordon had a nervous feeling as he again stepped into a taxicab and
-gave his order. He wondered how many stray dogs, and newsboys with
-broken legs, would attach themselves to him on the way to dinner.
-Whenever the speed slowed down, or they were halted by cars and autos,
-his heart pounded painfully, lest something new had happened, but he
-arrived safely and swiftly at the station, checked his suit-case,
-and took another cab to the residence of Mr. Holman, without further
-incident.
-
-The company were waiting for him, and after the introductions they went
-immediately to the dining-room. Gordon took his seat with the feeling
-that he had bungled everything hopelessly, and had arrived so late
-that there was no possible hope of his doing what he had been sent
-to do. For the first few minutes his thoughts were a jumble, and his
-eyes dazed with the brilliant lights of the room. He could not single
-out the faces of the people present and differentiate them one from
-another. His heart beat painfully against the stiff expanse of evening
-linen. It almost seemed as if those near him could hear it. He found
-himself starting and stammering when he was addressed as “Mr. Burnham.”
-His thoughts were mingled with white dogs, newsboys, and ladies with
-scornful smiles.
-
-He was seated on the right of his hostess, and gradually her gentle
-manners gave him quietness. He began to gain control of himself, and
-now he seemed to see afar the keen eye of his chief watching the
-testing of his new commissioner. His heart swelled to meet the demand
-made upon him. A strong purpose came to him to rise above all obstacles
-and conquer in spite of circumstances. He must forget everything else
-and rise to the occasion.
-
-From that moment the dancing lights that multiplied themselves in the
-glittering silver and cut glass of the table began to settle into
-order; and slowly, one by one, the conglomeration of faces around the
-board resolved itself into individuals.
-
-There was the pretty, pale hostess, whose gentle ways seemed
-hardly to fit with her large, boisterous, though polished husband.
-Unscrupulousness was written all over his ruddy features, also a
-certain unhidden craftiness which passed for geniality among his kind.
-
-There were two others with faces full of cunning, both men of wealth
-and culture. One did not think of the word “refinement” in connection
-with them; still, that might be conceded also; but it was all
-dominated by the cunning that on this occasion, at least, was allowed
-to sit unmasked upon their countenances. They had outwitted an enemy,
-and they were openly exultant.
-
-Of the other guests, one was very young and sleek, with eyes that had
-early learned to evade; one was old and weary-looking, with a hunted
-expression; one was thick-set, with little eyes set close in a fat,
-selfish face. Gordon began to understand that these three but did the
-bidding of the others. They listened to the conversation merely from a
-business standpoint and not with any personal interest. They were there
-because they were needed, and not because they were desired.
-
-There was one bond which they seemed to hold in common: an alert
-readiness to combine for their mutual safety. This did not manifest
-itself in anything tangible, but the guest felt that it was there and
-ready to spring upon him at any instant.
-
-All this came gradually to the young man as the meal with its pleasant
-formalities began. As yet nothing had been said about the reason for
-his being there.
-
-“Did you tell me you were in a wreck?” suddenly asked the hostess
-sweetly, turning to him, and the table talk hushed instantly while the
-host asked: “A wreck! Was it serious?”
-
-Gordon perceived his mistake at once. With instant caution, he replied
-smilingly, “Oh, nothing serious, a little break-down on a freight
-ahead, which required time to patch up. It reminded me----” and then he
-launched boldly into one of the bright dinner stories for which he was
-noted among his companions at home. His heart was beating wildly, but
-he succeeded in turning the attention of the table to his joke, instead
-of to asking from where he had come and on what road. Questions about
-himself were dangerous he plainly saw, if he would get possession of
-the valued paper and get away without leaving a trail behind him. He
-succeeded in one thing more, which, though he did not know it, was the
-very thing his chief had hoped he would do when he chose him instead
-of a man who had wider experience; he made every man at the table feel
-that he was delightful, a man to be thoroughly trusted and enjoyed; who
-would never suspect them of having any ulterior motives in anything
-they were doing.
-
-The conversation for a little time rippled with bright stories and
-repartee, and Gordon began to feel almost as if he were merely enjoying
-a social dinner at home, with Julia Bentley down the table listening
-and haughtily smiling her approval. For the time the incidents of
-the dog and the newsboy were forgotten, and the young man felt his
-self-respect rising. His heart was beginning to get into normal action
-again and he could control his thoughts. Then suddenly, the crisis
-arrived.
-
-The soup and fish courses had been disposed of, and the table was being
-prepared for the entrée. The host leaned back genially in his chair
-and said, “By the way, Mr. Burnham, did you know I had an axe to grind
-in asking you here this evening? That sounds inhospitable, doesn’t
-it? But I’m sure we’re all grateful to the axe that has given us the
-opportunity of meeting you. We are delighted at having discovered you.”
-
-Gordon bowed, smiling at the compliment, and the murmurs of hearty
-assent around the table showed him that he had begun well. If only he
-could keep it up! But how, _how_, was he to get possession of that
-magic bit of paper and take it away with him?
-
-“Mr. Burnham, I was delighted to learn through a friend that you are an
-expert in code-reading. I wonder, did the message that my friend Mr.
-Burns sent you this morning give you any intimation that I wanted you
-to do me a favor?”
-
-Gordon bowed again. “Yes: it was intimated to me that you had some
-message you would like deciphered, and I have also a letter of
-introduction from Mr. Burns.”
-
-Here Gordon took the letter of introduction from his pocket and handed
-it across the table to his host, who opened it genially, as if it were
-hardly necessary to read what was written within since they already
-knew so delightfully the man whom it introduced. The duplicate cipher
-writing in Gordon’s pocket crackled knowingly when he settled his coat
-about him again, as if it would say, “My time is coming! It is almost
-here now.”
-
-The young man wondered how he was to get it out without being seen, in
-case he should want to use it, but he smiled pleasantly at his host
-with no sign of the perturbation he was feeling.
-
-“You see,” went on Mr. Holman, “we have an important message which we
-cannot read, and our expert who understands all these matters is out of
-town and cannot return for some time. It is necessary that we know as
-soon as possible the import of this writing.”
-
-While he was speaking Mr. Holman drew from his pocket a long, soft
-leather wallet and took therefrom a folded paper which Gordon at once
-recognized as the duplicate of the one he carried in his pocket.
-His head seemed to reel, and all the lights go dark before him as
-he reached a cold hand out for the paper. He saw in it his own
-advancement coming to his eager grasp, yet when he got it would he be
-able to hold it? Something of the coolness of a man facing a terrible
-danger came to him now. By sheer force of will he held his trembling
-fingers steady as he took the bit of paper and opened it carelessly, as
-if he had never heard of it before, saying as he did so:
-
-“I will do my best.”
-
-There was a sudden silence as every eye was fixed upon him while he
-unfolded the paper. He gave one swift glance about the table before he
-dropped his eyes to the task. Every face held the intensity of almost
-terrible eagerness, and on every one but that of the gentle hostess sat
-cunning--craft that would stop at nothing to serve its own ends. It was
-a moment of almost awful import.
-
-The next instant Gordon’s glance went down to the paper in his hand,
-and his brain and heart were seized in the grip of fright. There was no
-other word to describe his feeling. The message before him was clearly
-written in the code of the home office, and the words stared at him
-plainly without the necessity of study. The import of them was the
-revelation of one of the most momentous questions that had to do with
-the Secret Service work, a question the answer to which had puzzled the
-entire department for weeks. That answer he now held in his hand, and
-he knew that if it should come to the knowledge of those outside before
-it had done its work through the department it would result in dire
-calamity to the cause of righteousness in the country, and incidentally
-crush the inefficient messenger who allowed it to become known. For the
-instant Gordon felt unequal to the task before him. How could he keep
-these bloodhounds at bay--for such they were, he perceived from the
-import of the message, bloodhounds who were getting ill-gotten gains
-from innocent and unsuspecting victims--some of them little children.
-
-But the old chief had picked his man well. Only for an instant the
-glittering lights darkened before his eyes and the cold perspiration
-started. Then he rallied his forces and looked up. The welfare of a
-nation’s honor was in his hands, and he would be true. It was a matter
-of life and death, and he would save it or lose his own life if need be.
-
-He summoned his ready smile.
-
-“I shall be glad to serve you if I can,” he said. “Of course I’d like
-to look this over a few minutes before attempting to read it. Codes are
-different, you know, from one another, but there is a key to them all
-if one can just find it out. This looks as if it might be very simple.”
-
-The spell of breathlessness was broken. The guests relaxed and went on
-with their dinner.
-
-Gordon, meanwhile, tried coolly to keep up a pretense of eating, the
-paper held in one hand while he seemed to be studying it. Once he
-turned it over and looked on the back. There was a large cross-mark
-in red ink at the upper end. He looked at it curiously and then
-instinctively at his host.
-
-“That is my own mark,” said Mr. Holman. “I put it there to distinguish
-it from other papers.” He was smiling politely, but he might as well
-have said, “I put it there to identify it in case of theft;” for every
-one at the table, unless it might be his wife, understood that that was
-what he meant. Gordon felt it and was conscious of the other paper in
-his vest-pocket. The way was going to be most difficult.
-
-Among the articles in the envelope which the chief had given him before
-his departure from Washington were a pair of shell-rimmed eye-glasses,
-a false mustache, a goatee, and a pair of eyebrows. He had laughed
-at the suggestion of high-tragedy contained in the disguise, but had
-brought them with him for a possible emergency. The eye-glasses were
-tucked into the vest-pocket beside the duplicate paper. He bethought
-himself of them now. Could he, under cover of taking them out, manage
-to exchange the papers? And if he should, how about that red-ink
-mark across the back? Would anyone notice its absence? It was well to
-exchange the papers as soon as possible before the writing had been
-studied by those at the table, for he knew that the other message,
-though resembling this one in general words, differed enough to attract
-the attention of a close observer. Dared he risk their noticing the
-absence of the red cross on the back?
-
-Slowly, cautiously, under cover of the conversation, he managed to get
-that duplicate paper out of his pocket and under the napkin in his lap.
-This he did with one hand, all the time ostentatiously holding the code
-message in the other hand, with its back to the people at the table.
-This hand meanwhile also held his coat lapel out that he might the more
-easily search his vest-pockets for the glasses. It all looked natural.
-The hostess was engaged in a whispered conversation with the maid at
-the moment. The host and other guests were finishing the exceedingly
-delicious patties on their plates, and the precious code message
-was safely in evidence, red cross and all. They saw no reason to be
-suspicious about the stranger’s hunt for his glasses.
-
-“Oh, here they are!” he said, quite unconcernedly, and put on the
-glasses to look more closely at the paper, spreading it smoothly on the
-table cloth before him, and wondering how he should get it into his
-lap in place of the one that now lay quietly under his napkin.
-
-The host and the guests politely refrained from talking to Gordon and
-told each other incidents of the day in low tones that indicated the
-non-importance of what they were saying; while they waited for the real
-business of the hour.
-
-Then the butler removed the plates, pausing beside Gordon waiting
-punctiliously with his silver tray to brush away the crumbs.
-
-This was just what Gordon waited for. It had come to him as the only
-way. Courteously he drew aside, lifting the paper from the table and
-putting it in his lap, for just the instant while the butler did his
-work; but in that instant the paper with the red cross was slipped
-under the napkin, and the other paper took its place upon the table,
-back down so that its lack of a red cross could not be noted.
-
-So far, so good, but how long could this be kept up? And the paper
-under the napkin--how was it to be got into his pocket? His hands were
-like ice now, and his brain seemed to be at boiling heat as he sat back
-and realized that the deed was done, and could not be undone. If anyone
-should pick up that paper from the table and discover the lack of the
-red mark, it would be all up with him. He looked up for an instant
-to meet the gaze of the six men upon him. They had nothing better to
-do now than to look at him until the next course arrived. He realized
-that not one of them would have mercy upon him if they knew what he had
-done, not one unless it might be the tired, old-looking one, and he
-would not dare interfere.
-
-Still Gordon was enabled to smile, and to say some pleasant nothings
-to his hostess when she passed him the salted almonds. His hand lay
-carelessly guarding the secret of the paper on the table, innocently,
-as though it just _happened_ that he laid it on the paper.
-
-Sitting thus with the real paper in his lap under his large damask
-napkin, the false paper under his hand on the table where he from
-time to time perused it, and his eye-glasses which made him look most
-distinguished still on his nose, he heard the distant telephone bell
-ring.
-
-He remembered the words of his chief and sat rigid. From his position
-he could see the tall clock in the hall, and its gilded hands pointed
-to ten minutes before seven. It was about the time his chief had said
-he would be called on the telephone. What should he do with the two
-papers?
-
-He had but an instant to think until the well-trained butler returned
-and announced that some one wished to speak with Mr. Burnham on the
-telephone. His resolve was taken. He would have to leave the substitute
-paper on the table. To carry it away with him might arouse suspicion,
-and, moreover, he could not easily manage both without being noticed.
-The real paper must be put safely away at all hazards, and he must take
-the chance that the absence of the red mark would remain unnoticed
-until his return.
-
-Deliberately he laid a heavy silver spoon across one edge of the paper
-on the table, and an icecream fork across the other, as if to hold it
-in place until his return. Then, rising with apologies, he gathered
-his napkin, paper, and all in his hand, holding it against his coat
-most naturally, as if he had forgotten that he had it, and made his
-way into the front hall, where in an alcove was the telephone. As he
-passed the hat-rack he swept his coat and hat off with his free hand,
-and bore them with him, devoutly hoping that he was not being watched
-from the dining-room. Could he possibly get from the telephone out the
-front door without being seen? Hastily he hid the cipher message in an
-inner pocket. The napkin he dropped on the little telephone table, and
-taking up the receiver he spoke: “Hello! Yes! Oh, good evening! You
-don’t say so! How did that happen?” He made his voice purposely clear,
-that it might be heard in the dining-room if anyone was listening. Then
-glancing in that direction he saw, to his horror, his host lean over
-and lift the cipher paper he had left on the table and hand it to the
-guest on his right.
-
-The messenger at the other end had given his sentence agreed upon
-and he had replied according to the sentences laid down by the chief
-in his instructions; the other end had said good-by and hung up, but
-Gordon’s voice spoke, cool and clear in the little alcove, despite
-his excitement. “All right. Certainly, I can take time to write it
-down. Wait until I get my pencil. Now, I’m ready. Have you it there?
-I’ll wait a minute until you get it.” His heart beat wildly. The blood
-surged through his ears like rushing waters. Would they look for the
-little red mark? The soft clink of spoons and dishes and the murmur of
-conversation was still going on, but there was no doubt but that it
-was a matter of a few seconds before his theft would be discovered. He
-must make an instant dash for liberty while he yet could. Cautiously,
-stealthily, like a shadow from the alcove, one eye on the dining-room,
-he stole to the door and turned the knob. Yet even as he did so he saw
-his recent host rise excitedly from his seat and fairly snatch the
-paper from the man who held it. His last glimpse of the room where he
-had but three minutes before been enjoying the hospitality of the house
-was a vision of the entire company starting up and pointing to himself
-even as he slid from sight. There was no longer need for silence. He
-had been discovered and must fight for his life. He shut the door
-quickly, his nerves so tense that it seemed as if something must break
-soon; opened and slammed the outer door, and was out in the great
-whirling city under the flare of electric lamps with only the chance of
-a second of time before his pursuers would be upon him.
-
-He came down the steps with the air of one who could scarcely take time
-to touch his feet to the ground, but must fly.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-
-Almost in front of the house stood a closed carriage with two fine
-horses, but the coachman was looking up anxiously toward the next
-building. The sound of the closing door drew the man’s attention, and,
-catching Gordon’s eye, he made as if to jump down and throw open the
-door of the carriage. Quick as a flash, Gordon saw he had been mistaken
-for the man the carriage awaited, and he determined to make use of the
-circumstance.
-
-“Don’t get down,” he called to the man, taking chances. “It’s very late
-already. I’ll open the door. Drive for all you’re worth.” He jumped
-in and slammed the carriage door behind him, and in a second more the
-horses were flying down the street. A glance from the back window
-showed an excited group of his fellow-guests standing at the open door
-of the mansion he had just left pointing toward his carriage and wildly
-gesticulating. He surmised that his host was already at the telephone
-calling for his own private detective.
-
-Gordon could scarcely believe his senses that he had accomplished his
-mission and flight so far, and yet he knew his situation was most
-precarious. Where he was going he neither knew nor cared. When he was
-sure he was far enough from the house he would call to the driver and
-give him directions, but first he must make sure that the precious
-paper was safely stowed away, in case he should be caught and searched.
-They might be coming after him with motor-cycles in a minute or two.
-
-Carefully rolling the paper into a tiny compass, he slipped it into
-a hollow gold case which was among the things in the envelope the
-chief had given him. There was a fine chain attached to the case, and
-the whole looked innocently like a gold pencil. The chain he slipped
-about his neck, dropping the case down inside his collar. That done he
-breathed more freely. Only from his dead body should they take that
-away. Then he hastily put on the false eyebrows, mustache, and goatee
-which had been provided for his disguise, and pulling on a pair of
-light gloves he felt more fit to evade detection.
-
-He was just beginning to think what he should say to the driver about
-taking him to the station, for it was important that he get out of the
-city at once, when, glancing out of the window to see what part of
-the city he was being taken through he became aware of an auto close
-beside the carriage keeping pace with it, and two men stretching their
-necks as if to look into the carriage window at him. He withdrew to the
-shadow instantly so that they could not see him, but the one quick
-glance he had made him sure that one of his pursuers was the short
-thick-set man with the cruel jaw who had sat across from him at the
-dinner-table a few minutes before. If this were so he had practically
-no chance at all of escape, for what was a carriage against a swift
-moving car and what was he against a whole city full of strangers and
-enemies? If he attempted to drop from the carriage on the other side
-and escape into the darkness he had but a chance of a thousand at not
-being seen, and he could not hope to hide and get away in this unknown
-part of the city. Yet he must take his chance somehow, for the carriage
-must sooner or later get somewhere and he be obliged to face his
-pursuers.
-
-To make matters worse, just at the instant when he had decided to jump
-at the next dark place and was measuring the distance with his eye, his
-hand even being outstretched to grasp the door handle, a blustering,
-boisterous motor-cycle burst into full bloom just where he intended
-to jump, and the man who rode it was in uniform. He dodged back into
-the darkness of the carriage again that he might not be seen, and
-the motor-cycle came so near that its rider turned a white face and
-looked in. He felt that his time had come, and his cause was lost. It
-had not yet occurred to him that the men who were pursuing him would
-hardly be likely to call in municipal aid in their search, lest their
-own duplicity would be discovered. He reasoned that he was dealing
-with desperate men who would stop at nothing to get back the original
-cipher paper, and stop his mouth. He was well aware that only death
-would be considered a sufficient silencer for him after what he had
-seen at Mr. Holman’s dinner-table, for the evidence he could give would
-involve the honor of every man who had sat there. He saw in a flash
-that the two henchmen whom he was sure were even now riding in the car
-on his right had been at the table for the purpose of silencing him
-if he showed any signs of giving trouble. The wonder was that any of
-them dared call in a stranger on a matter of such grave import which
-meant ruin to them all if they were found out, but probably they had
-reasoned that every man had his price and had intended to offer him a
-share of the booty. It was likely that the chief had caused it to be
-understood by them that he was the right kind of man for their purpose.
-Yet, of course, they had taken precautions, and now they had him well
-caught, an auto on one side, a motor-cycle on the other and no telling
-how many more behind! He had been a fool to get into this carriage.
-He might have known it would only trap him to his death. There seemed
-absolutely no chance for escape now--yet he must fight to the last. He
-put his hand on his revolver to make sure it was easy to get at, tried
-to think whether it would not be better to chew up and swallow that
-cipher message rather than to run the risk of its falling again into
-the hands of the enemy; decided that he must carry it intact to his
-chief if possible; and finally that he must make a dash for safety at
-once, when just then the carriage turned briskly into a wide driveway,
-and the attendant auto and motor-cycle dropped behind as if puzzled at
-the move. The carriage stopped short and a bright light from an open
-doorway was flung into his face. There seemed to be high stone walls on
-one side and the lighted doorway on the other hand evidently led into
-a great stone building. He could hear the puffing of the car and cycle
-just behind. A wild notion that the carriage had been placed in front
-of the house to trap him in case he tried to escape, and that he had
-been brought to prison, flitted through his mind.
-
-His hand was on his revolver as the coachman jumped down to fling open
-the carriage door, for he intended to fight for his liberty to the last.
-
-He glanced back through the carriage window, and the lights of the auto
-glared in his face. The short, thick-set man was getting out of the
-car, and the motor-cyclist had stood his machine up against the wall
-and was coming toward the carriage. Escape was going to be practically
-impossible. A wild thought of dashing out the opposite door of his
-carriage, boldly seizing the motor-cycle and making off on it passed
-through his mind, and then the door on his left was flung open and the
-carriage was immediately surrounded by six excited men in evening dress
-all talking at once. “Here you are at last!” they chorused.
-
-“Where is the best man?” shouted some one from the doorway. “Hasn’t
-he come either?” And as if in answer one of the men by the carriage
-door wheeled and called excitedly: “Yes, he’s come! Tell him--tell
-Jeff--tell him he’s come.” Then turning once more to Gordon he seized
-him by the arm and cried: “Come on quickly! There isn’t a minute to
-wait. The organist is fairly frantic. Everybody has been just as
-nervous as could be. We couldn’t very well go on without you--you know.
-But don’t let that worry you. It’s all right now you’ve come. Forget
-it, old man, and hustle.” Dimly Gordon perceived above the sound of
-subdued hubbub that an organ was playing, and even as he listened it
-burst into the joyous notes of the wedding march. It dawned upon him
-that this was not a prison to which he had come but a church--not a
-court-room but a wedding, and horror of horrors! they took him for the
-best man. His disguise had been his undoing. How was he to get out of
-this scrape? And with his pursuers just behind!
-
-“Let me explain----” he began, and wondered what he could explain.
-
-“There’s no time for explanations now, man. I tell you the organ has
-begun the march. We’re expected to be marching down that middle aisle
-this very minute and Jeff is waiting for us in the chapel. I sent the
-signal to the bride and another to the organist the minute we sighted
-you. Come on! Everybody knows your boat was late in coming in. You
-don’t need to explain a thing till afterwards.”
-
-At that moment one of the ushers moved aside and the short, thick-set
-man stepped between, the light shining full upon his face, and Gordon
-knew him positively for the man who had sat opposite him at the table a
-few minutes before. He was peering eagerly into the carriage door and
-Gordon saw his only escape was into the church. With his heart pounding
-like a trip hammer he yielded himself to the six ushers, who swept the
-little pursuer aside as if he had been a fly and literally bore Gordon
-up the steps and into the church door.
-
-A burst of music filled his senses, and dazzling lights, glimpses
-of flowers, palms and beautiful garments bewildered him. His one
-thought was for escape from his pursuers. Would they follow him into
-the church and drag him out in the presence of all these people, or
-would they be thrown off the track for a little while and give him
-opportunity yet to get away? He looked around wildly for a place of
-exit but he was in the hands of the insistent ushers. One of them
-chattered to him in a low, growling whisper, such as men use on solemn
-occasions:
-
-“It must have been rough on you being anxious like this about getting
-here, but never mind now. It’ll go all right. Come on. Here’s our
-cue and there stands Jefferson over there. You and he go in with the
-minister, you know. The groom and the best man, you understand, they’ll
-tell you when. Jeff has the ring all right, so you won’t need to bother
-about that. There’s absolutely nothing for you to do but stand where
-you’re put and go out when the rest do. You needn’t feel a bit nervous.”
-
-Was it possible that these crazy people didn’t recognize their mistake
-even yet here in the bright light? Couldn’t they see his mustache was
-stuck on and one eyebrow was crooked? Didn’t they know their best man
-well enough to recognize his voice? Surely, surely, some one would
-discover the mistake soon--that man Jeff over there who was eyeing him
-so intently. He would be sure to know this was not his friend. Yet
-every minute that they continued to think so was a distinct gain for
-Gordon, puzzling his pursuers and giving himself time to think and plan
-and study his strange surroundings.
-
-And now they were drawing him forward and a turn of his head gave him
-a vision of the stubbed head of the thick-set man peering in at the
-chapel door and watching him eagerly. He must fool him if possible.
-
-“But I don’t know anything about the arrangements,” faltered Gordon,
-reflecting that the best man might not be very well known to the ushers
-and perhaps he resembled him. It was not the first time he had been
-taken for another man--and with his present make-up and all, perhaps it
-was natural. Could he possibly hope to bluff it out for a few minutes
-until the ceremony was over and then escape? It would of course be the
-best way imaginable to throw that impudent little man in the doorway
-off his track. If the real best man would only stay away long enough
-it would not be a difficult part to play. The original man might turn
-up after he was gone and create a pleasant little mystery, but nobody
-would be injured thereby. All this passed through his mind while the
-usher kept up his sepulchral whisper:
-
-“Why, there are just the usual arrangements, you know--nothing new.
-You and Jeff go in after the ushers have reached the back of the church
-and opened the door. Then you just stand there till Celia and her uncle
-come up the aisle. Then follows the ceremony--very brief. Celia had
-all that repeating after the minister cut out on account of not being
-able to rehearse. It’s to be just the simplest service, not the usual
-lengthy affair. Don’t worry, you’ll be all right, old man. Hurry!
-They’re calling you. Leave your hat right here. Now I must go. Keep
-cool. It’ll soon be over.”
-
-The breathless usher hurried through the door and settled into a sort
-of exalted hobble to the time of the wonderful Lohengrin music. Gordon
-turned, thinking even yet to make a possible escape, but the eagle-eye
-of his pursuer was upon him and the man Jefferson was by his side:
-
-“Here we are!” he said, eagerly grabbing Gordon’s hat and coat and
-dumping them on a chair. “I’ll look after everything. Just come along.
-It’s time we went in. The doctor is motioning for us. Awfully glad to
-see you at last. Too bad you had to rush so. How many years is it since
-I saw you? Ten! You’ve changed some, but you’re looking fine and dandy.
-No need to worry about anything. It’ll soon be over and the knot tied.”
-
-Mechanically Gordon fell into place beside the man Jefferson, who was
-a pleasant-faced youth, well-groomed and handsome. Looking furtively
-at his finely-cut, happy features, Gordon wondered if he would feel
-as glad as this youth seemed to be, when he walked down the aisle to
-meet his bride. How, by the way, would he feel if he were going to be
-married now,--going into the face of this great company of well-dressed
-people to meet Miss Julia Bentley and be joined to her for life?
-Instinctively his soul shrank within him at the thought.
-
-But now the door was wide open, the organ pealing its best, and he
-suddenly became aware of many eyes, and of wondering how long his
-eyebrows would withstand the perspiration that was trickling softly
-down his forehead. His mustache--ridiculous appendage! why had he not
-removed it?--was it awry? Dared he put up his hand to see? His gloves!
-Would anyone notice that they were not as strictly fresh as a best
-man’s gloves should be? Then he took his first step to the music, and
-it was like being pulled from a delicious morning nap and plunged into
-a tub of icy water.
-
-He walked with feet that suddenly weighed like lead, across a church
-that looked to be miles in width, in the face of swarms of curious
-eyes. He tried to reflect that these people were all strangers to him,
-that they were not looking at him, anyway, but at the bridegroom by
-his side, and that it mattered very little what he did, so long as he
-kept still and braved it out, if only the real best man didn’t turn up
-until he was well out of the church. Then he could vanish in the dark,
-and go by some back way to a car or a taxicab and so to the station.
-The thought of the paper inside the gold pencil-case filled him with
-a sort of elation. If only he could get out of this dreadful church,
-he would probably get away safely. Perhaps even the incident of the
-wedding might prove to be his protection, for they would never seek him
-in a crowded church at a fashionable wedding.
-
-The man by his side managed him admirably, giving him a whispered
-hint, a shove, or a push now and then, and getting him into the proper
-position. It seemed as if the best man had to occupy the most trying
-spot in all the church, but as they put him there, of course it was
-right. He glanced furtively over the faces near the front, and they all
-looked quite satisfied, as if everything were going as it should, so he
-settled down to his fate, his white, strained face partly hidden by the
-abundant display of mustache and eyebrow. People whispered softly how
-handsome he looked, and some suggested that he was not so stout as when
-they had last seen him, ten years before. His stay in a foreign land
-must have done him good. One woman went so far as to tell her daughter
-that he was far more distinguished-looking than she had ever thought he
-could become, but it was wonderful what a stay in a foreign land would
-do to improve a person.
-
-The music stole onward; and slowly, gracefully, like the opening of
-buds into flowers, the bridal party inched along up the middle aisle
-until at last the bride in all the mystery of her white veil arrived,
-and all the maidens in their flowers and many colored gauzes were
-suitably disposed about her.
-
-The feeble old man on whose arm the bride had leaned as she came up
-the aisle dropped out of the procession, melting into one of the front
-seats, and Gordon found himself standing beside the bride. He felt sure
-there must be something wrong about it, and looked at his young guide
-with an attempt to change places with him, but the man named Jefferson
-held him in place with a warning eye. “You’re all right. Just stay
-where you are,” he whispered softly, and Gordon stayed, reflecting on
-the strange fashions of weddings, and wondering why he had never before
-taken notice of just how a wedding party came in and stood and got out
-again. If he was only out of this how glad he would be. It seemed one
-had to be a pretty all-around man to be a member of the Secret Service.
-
-The organ had hushed its voice to a sort of exultant sobbing, filled
-with dreams of flowers and joys, and hints of sorrow; and the minister
-in a voice both impressive and musical began the ceremony. Gordon stood
-doggedly and wondered if that really was one eyebrow coming down over
-his eye, or only a drop of perspiration.
-
-Another full second passed, and he decided that if he ever got out
-of this situation alive he would never, no, never, no, _never_, get
-married himself.
-
-During the next second that crawled by he became supremely conscious
-of the creature in white by his side. A desire possessed him to look
-at her and see if she were like Julia Bentley. It was like a nightmare
-haunting his dreams that she _was_ Julia Bentley somehow transported
-to New York and being married to him willy-nilly. He could not shake
-it off, and the other eyebrow began to feel shaky. He was sure it was
-sailing down over his eye. If he only dared press its adhesive lining a
-little tighter to his flesh!
-
-Some time during the situation there came a prayer, interminable to his
-excited imagination, as all the other ceremonies.
-
-Under cover of the hush and the supposedly bowed heads, Gordon turned
-desperately toward the bride. He must see her and drive this phantasm
-from his brain. He turned, half expecting to see Julia’s tall,
-handsome form, though telling himself he was a fool, and wondering why
-he so dreaded the idea. Then his gaze was held fascinated.
-
-She was a little creature, slender and young and very beautiful,
-with a beauty which a deathly pallor only enhanced. Her face was
-delicately cut, and set in a frame of fine dark hair, the whole made
-most exquisite by the mist of white tulle that breathed itself about
-her like real mist over a flower. But the lovely head drooped, the
-coral lips had a look of unutterable sadness, and the long lashes swept
-over white cheeks. He could not take his eyes from her now that he had
-looked. How lovely, and how fitting for the delightful youth by his
-side! Now that he thought of it she was like him, only smaller and more
-delicate, of course. A sudden fierce, ridiculous feeling of envy filled
-Gordon’s heart. Why couldn’t he have known and loved a girl like that?
-Why had Julia Bentley been forever in his pathway as the girl laid out
-for his choice?
-
-He looked at her with such intensity that a couple of dear old sisters
-who listened to the prayer with their eyes wide open, whispered one to
-the other: “Just see him look at her! How he must love her! Wasn’t it
-beautiful that he should come right from the steamer to the church and
-never see her till now, for the first time in ten long years. It’s so
-romantic!”
-
-“Yes,” whispered the other; “and I believe it’ll last. He looks at her
-that way. Only I do dislike that way of arranging the hair on his face.
-But then it’s foreign I suppose. He’ll probably get over it if they
-stay in this country.”
-
-A severe old lady in the seat in front turned a reprimanding chin
-toward them and they subsided. Still Gordon continued to gaze.
-
-Then the bride became aware of his look, raised her eyes, and--they
-were full of tears!
-
-They gave him one reproachful glance that shot through his soul like a
-sword, and her lashes drooped again. By some mysterious control over
-the law of gravity, the tears remained unshed, and the man’s gaze was
-turned aside; but that look had done its mighty work.
-
-All the experiences of the day rushed over him and seemed to culminate
-in that one look. It was as if the reproach of all things had come upon
-him. The hurt in the white dog’s eyes had touched him, the perfect
-courage in the appeal of the child’s eyes had called forth his deepest
-sympathy, but the tears of this exquisite woman wrung his heart. He saw
-now that the appeal of the dog and the child had been the opening wedge
-for the look of a woman, which tore self from him and flung it at her
-feet for her to walk upon; and when the prayer was ended he found that
-he was trembling.
-
-He looked vindictively at the innocent youth beside him, as the soft
-rustle of the audience and the little breath of relief from the
-bridal party betokened the next stage in the ceremony. What had this
-innocent-looking youth done to cause tears in those lovely eyes? Was
-she marrying him against her will? He was only a boy, anyway. What
-right had he to suppose he could care for a delicate creature like
-that? He was making her cry already, and he seemed to be utterly
-unconscious of it. What could be the matter? Gordon felt a desire to
-kick him.
-
-Then it occurred to him that inadvertently _he_ might have been the
-cause of her tears; he, supposedly the best man, who had been late, and
-held up the wedding no knowing how long. Of course it wasn’t really
-his fault; but by proxy it was, for he now was masquerading as that
-unlucky best man, and she was very likely reproaching him for what she
-supposed was his stupidity. He had heard that women cried sometimes
-from vexation, disappointment or excitement.
-
-Yet in his heart of hearts he could not set those tears, that look,
-down to so trivial a cause. They had reached his very soul, and he
-felt there was something deeper there than mere vexation. There had
-been bitter reproach for a deep wrong done. The glance had told him
-that. All the manhood in him rose to defend her against whoever had
-hurt her. He longed to get one more look into her eyes to make quite
-sure; and then, if there was still appeal there, his soul must answer
-it.
-
-For the moment his commission, his ridiculous situation, the real peril
-to his life and trust, were forgotten.
-
-The man Jefferson had produced a ring and was nudging him. It appeared
-that the best man had some part to play with that ring. He dimly
-remembered somewhere hearing that the best man must hand the ring to
-the bridegroom at the proper moment, but it was absurd for them to go
-through the farce of doing that when the bridegroom already held the
-golden circlet in his fingers! Why did he not step up like a man and
-put it upon the outstretched hand; that little white hand just in front
-of him there, so timidly held out with its glove fingers tucked back,
-like a dove crept out from its covert unwillingly?
-
-But that Jefferson-man still held out the ring stupidly to him, and
-evidently expected him to take it. Silly youth! There was nothing for
-it but to take it and hand it back, of course. He must do as he was
-told and hasten that awful ceremony to its interminable close. He took
-the ring and held it out, but the young man did not take it again.
-Instead he whispered, “Put it on her finger!”
-
-Gordon frowned. Could he be hearing aright? Why didn’t the fellow put
-the ring on his own bride? If he were being married, he would knock any
-man down that dared to put his wife’s wedding ring on for him. Could
-that be the silly custom now, to have the best man put the bride’s ring
-on? How unutterably out of place! But he must not make a scene, of
-course.
-
-The little timid hand, so slender and white, came a shade nearer as if
-to help, and the ring finger separated itself from the others.
-
-He looked at the smooth circlet. It seemed too tiny for any woman’s
-finger. Then, reverently, he slipped it on, with a strange,
-inexpressible longing to touch the little hand. While he was thinking
-himself all kinds of a fool, and was enjoying one of his intermittent
-visions of Julia Bentley’s expressive countenance interpolated on the
-present scene, a strange thing happened.
-
-There had been some low murmurs and motions which he had not noticed
-because he thought his part of this very uncomfortable affair was
-about concluded, when, lo and behold, the minister and the young man
-by his side both began fumbling for his hand, and among them they
-managed to bring it into position and place in its astonished grasp the
-little timid hand that he had just crowned with its ring.
-
-As his fingers closed over the bride’s hand, there was such reverence,
-such tenderness in his touch that the girl’s eyes were raised once more
-to his face, this time with the conquered tears in retreat, but all the
-pain and appeal still there. He looked and involuntarily he pressed her
-hand the closer, as if to promise aforetime whatever she would ask.
-Then, with her hand in his, and with the realization that they two
-were detached as it were from the rest of the wedding party, standing
-in a little centre of their own, his senses came back to him, and he
-perceived as in a flash of understanding that it was _they_ who were
-being married!
-
-There had been some terrible, unexplainable mistake, and he was
-stupidly standing in another man’s place, taking life vows upon
-himself! The thing had passed from an adventure of little moment into a
-matter of a life-tragedy, two life-tragedies perhaps! What should he do?
-
-With the question came the words, “I pronounce you husband and wife,”
-and “let no man put asunder.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-
-What had he done? Was it some great unnamed, unheard-of crime he had
-unconsciously committed? Could anyone understand or excuse such asinine
-stupidity? Could he ever hold up his head again, though he fled to
-the most distant part of the globe? Was there nothing that could save
-the situation? Now, before they left the church, could he not declare
-the truth, and set things right, undo the words that had been spoken
-in the presence of all these witnesses, and send out to find the real
-bridegroom? Surely neither law nor gospel could endorse a bond made in
-the ignorance of either participant. It would, of course, be a terrible
-thing for the bride, but better now than later. Besides, he was pledged
-by that hand-clasp to answer the appeal in her eyes and protect her.
-This, then, was what it had meant!
-
-But his commission! What of that? “A matter of life and death!” Ah! but
-this was _more_ than life or death!
-
-While these rapid thoughts were flashing through his brain, the
-benediction was being pronounced, and with the last word the organ
-pealed forth its triumphant lay. The audience stirred excitedly,
-anticipating the final view of the wedding procession.
-
-The bride turned to take her bouquet from the maid of honor, and the
-movement broke the spell under which Gordon had been held.
-
-He turned to the young man by his side and spoke hurriedly in a low
-tone.
-
-“An awful mistake has been made,” he said, and the organ drowned
-everything but the word “mistake.” “I don’t know what to do,” he went
-on. But young Jefferson hastened to reassure him joyously:
-
-“Not a bit of it, old chap. Nobody noticed that hitch about the ring.
-It was only a second. Everything went off slick. You haven’t anything
-more to do now but take my sister out. Look alive, there! She looks as
-if she might be going to faint! She hasn’t been a bit well all day!
-Steady her, quick, can’t you? She’ll stick it out till she gets to the
-air, but hurry, for goodness’ sake!”
-
-Gordon turned in alarm. Already the frail white bride had a claim on
-him. His first duty was to get her out of this crowd. Perhaps, after
-all, she had discovered that he was not the right man, and that was the
-meaning of her tears and appeal. Yet she had held her own and allowed
-things to go through to the finish, and perhaps he had no right to
-reveal to the assembled multitudes what she evidently wanted kept
-quiet. He must wait till he could ask her. He must do as this other man
-said--this--this brother of hers--who was of course the best man. Oh,
-fool, and blind! Why had he not understood at the beginning and got
-himself out of this fix before it was too late? And what should he do
-when he reached the door? How could he ever explain? His commission! He
-dared not breathe a word of that? What explanation could he possibly
-offer for his--his--yes----his _criminal_ conduct? Why, no such thing
-was ever heard of in the history of mankind as that which had happened
-to him. From start to finish it was--it--was---- He could not think of
-words to express what it was.
-
-He was by this time meandering jerkily down the aisle, attempting to
-keep time to the music and look the part that she evidently expected
-him to play, but his eyes were upon her face, which was whiter now and,
-if possible, lovelier, than before.
-
-“Oh, just see how devoted he is,” murmured the eldest of the two dear
-old sisters, and he caught the sense of her words as he passed, and
-wondered. Then, immediately before him, retreating backward down the
-aisle with terrible eyes of scorn upon him, he seemed to feel the
-presence of Miss Julia Bentley leading onward toward the church door;
-but he would not take his eyes from that sweet, sad face of the white
-bride on his arm to look. He somehow knew that if he could hold out
-until he reached that door without looking up, her power over him would
-be exorcised forever.
-
-Out into the vacant vestibule, under the tented canopy, alone together
-for the moment, he felt her gentle weight grow heavy on his arm, and
-knew her footsteps were lagging. Instinctively, lest others should
-gather around them, he almost lifted her and bore her down the carpeted
-steps, through the covered pathway, to the luxurious motor-car waiting
-with open door, and placed her on the cushions. Some one closed the car
-door and almost immediately they were in motion.
-
-She settled back with a half sigh, as if she could not have borne
-one instant more of strain, then sitting opposite he adjusted the
-window to give her air. She seemed grateful but said nothing. Her eyes
-were closed wearily, and the whole droop of her figure showed utter
-exhaustion. It seemed a desecration to speak to her, yet he must have
-some kind of an understanding before they reached their destination.
-
-“An explanation is due to you----” he began, without knowing just what
-he was going to say, but she put out her hand with a weary protest.
-
-“Oh, please don’t!” she pleaded. “I know--the boat was late! It doesn’t
-matter in the least.”
-
-He sat back appalled! She did not herself know then that she had
-married the wrong man!
-
-“But you don’t understand,” he protested.
-
-“Never mind,” she moaned. “I don’t want to understand. Nothing can
-change things. Only, let me be quiet till we get to the house, or I
-never can go through with the rest of it.”
-
-Her words ended with almost a sob, and he sat silent for an instant,
-with a mingling of emotions, uppermost of which was a desire to take
-the little, white, shrinking girl into his arms and comfort her,
-“Nothing can change things!” That sounded as though she did know
-but thought it too late to undo the great mistake now that it had
-been made. He must let her know that he had not understood until the
-ceremony was over. While he sat helplessly looking at her in the
-dimness of the car where she looked so small and sad and misty huddled
-beside her great bouquet, she opened her eyes and looked at him. She
-seemed to understand that he was about to speak again. By the great arc
-light they were passing he saw there were tears in her eyes again, and
-her voice held a child-like pleading as she uttered one word:
-
-“Don’t!”
-
-It hurt him like a knife, he knew not why. But he could not resist the
-appeal. Duty or no duty, he could not disobey her command.
-
-“Very well.” He said it quietly, almost tenderly, and sat back with
-folded arms. After all, what explanation could he give her that she
-would believe? He might not breathe a word of his commission or
-the message. What other reason could he give for his extraordinary
-appearance at her wedding and by her side?
-
-The promise in his voice seemed to give her relief. She breathed a
-sigh of relief and closed her eyes. He must just keep still and have
-his eyes open for a chance to escape when the carriage reached its
-destination.
-
-Thus silently they threaded through unknown streets, strange thoughts
-in the heart of each. The bride was struggling with her heavy burden,
-and the man was trying to think his way out of the maze of perplexity
-into which he had unwittingly wandered. He tried to set his thoughts
-in order and find out just what to do. First of all, of course came
-his commission, but somehow every time the little white bride opposite
-took first place in his mind. Could he serve both? What _would_ serve
-both, and what would serve _either_? As for himself, he was free to
-confess that there was no room left in the present situation for even
-a consideration of his own interests.
-
-Whatever there was of good in him must go now to set matters right
-in which he had greatly blundered. He must do the best he could for
-the girl who had so strangely crossed his pathway, and get back to
-his commission. But when he tried to realize the importance of his
-commission and set it over against the interests of the girl-bride, his
-mind became confused. What should he do! He could not think of slipping
-away and leaving her without further words, even if an opportunity
-offered itself. Perhaps he was wrong. Doubtless his many friends might
-tell him so if they were consulted, but he did not intend to consult
-them. He intended to see this troubled soul to some place of safety,
-and look out for his commission as best he could afterward. One thing
-he did not fully realize, and that was that Miss Julia Bentley’s vision
-troubled him no longer. He was free. There was only one woman in the
-whole wide world that gave him any concern, and that was the little
-sorrowful creature who sat opposite to him, and to whom he had just
-been married.
-
-Just been married! He! The thought brought with it a thrill of wonder,
-and a something else that was not unpleasant. What if he really had?
-Of course he had not. Of course such a thing could not hold good. But
-what if he had! Just for an instant he entertained the thought--would
-he be glad or sorry? He did not know her, of course, had heard her
-speak but a few words, had looked into her face plainly but once, and
-yet suppose she were his! His heart answered the question with a glad
-bound that astonished him, and all his former ideas of real love were
-swept from his mind in a breath. He knew that, stranger though she
-was, he could take her to his heart; cherish her, love her and bear
-with her, as he never could have done Julia Bentley. Then all at once
-he realized that he was allowing his thoughts to dwell upon a woman
-who by all that was holy belonged to another man, and that other man
-would doubtless soon be the one with whom he would have to deal. He
-would soon be face to face with a new phase of the situation and he
-must prepare himself to meet it. What was he going to do? Should he
-plan to escape from the opposite door of the automobile while the bride
-was being assisted from her seat? No, he could not, for he would be
-expected to get out first and help her out. Besides, there would be too
-many around, and he could not possibly get away. But, greater than any
-such reason, the thing that held him bound was the look in her eyes
-through the tears. He simply could not leave her until he knew that
-she no longer needed him. And yet there was his commission! Well, he
-must see her in the hands of those who would care for her at least. So
-much he had done even for the white dog, and then, too, surely she was
-worth as many minutes of his time as he had been compelled to give to
-the injured child of the streets. If he only could explain to her now!
-
-The thought of his message, with its terrible significance, safe in
-his possession, sent shivers of anxiety through his frame! Suppose
-he should be caught, and it taken from him, all on account of this
-most impossible incident! What scorn, what contumely, would be his!
-How could he ever explain to his chief? Would anybody living believe
-that a man in his senses could be married to a stranger before a
-whole church full of people, and not know he was being married until
-the deed was done--and then not do anything about it after it was
-done? That was what he was doing now this very minute. He ought to be
-explaining something somehow to that poor little creature in the shadow
-of the carriage. Perhaps in some way it might relieve her sorrow if he
-did, and yet when he looked at her and tried to speak his mouth was
-hopelessly closed. He might not tell her anything!
-
-He gradually sifted his immediate actions down to two necessities;
-to get his companion to a safe place where her friends could care for
-her, and to make his escape as soon and as swiftly as possible. It was
-awful to run and leave her without telling her anything about it; when
-she evidently believed him to be the man she had promised and intended
-to marry; but the real bridegroom would surely turn up soon somehow
-and make matters right. Anyhow, it was the least he could do to take
-himself out of her way, and to get his trust to its owners at once.
-
-The car halted suddenly before a brightly lighted mansion, whose tented
-entrance effectually shut out the gaze of alien eyes, and made the
-transit from car to domicile entirely private. There was no opportunity
-here to disappear. The sidewalk and road were black with curious
-onlookers. He stepped from the car first and helped the lady out. He
-bore her heavy bouquet because she looked literally too frail to carry
-it further herself.
-
-In the doorway she was surrounded by a bevy of servants, foremost among
-whom her old nurse claimed the privilege of greeting her with tears and
-smiles and many “Miss-Celia-my-dears,” and Gordon stood for the instant
-entranced, watching the sweet play of loving kindness in the face of
-the pale little bride. As soon as he could lay down those flowers
-inconspicuously he would be on the alert for a way of escape. It
-surely would be found through some back or side entrance of the house.
-
-But even as the thought came to him the old nurse stepped back to let
-the other servants greet the bride with stiff bows and embarrassed
-words of blessing, and he felt a hand laid heavily on his arm.
-
-He started as he turned, thinking instantly again of his commission and
-expecting to see a policeman in uniform by his side, but it was only
-the old nurse, with tears of devotion still in her faded eyes.
-
-“Mister George, ye hevn’t forgot me, hev ye?” she asked, earnestly.
-“You usen’t to like me verra well, I mind, but ye was awful for the
-teasin’ an’ I was always for my Miss Celie! But bygones is bygones now
-an’ I wish ye well. Yer growed a man, an’ I know ye must be worthy o’
-her, or she’d never hev consented to take ye. Yev got a gude wife an’
-no mistake, an’ I know ye’ll be the happiest man alive. Ye won’t hold
-it against me, Mister George, that I used to tell yer uncle on your
-masterful tricks, will ye? You mind I was only carin’ fer my baby girl,
-an’ ye were but a boy.”
-
-She paused as if expecting an answer, and Gordon embarrassedly assured
-her that he would never think of holding so trifling a matter against
-her. He cast a look of reverent admiration and tenderness toward the
-beautiful girl who was smiling on her loyal subjects like a queen,
-roused from her sorrow to give joy to others; and even her old nurse
-was satisfied.
-
-“Ah, ye luve her, Mister George, don’t ye?” the nurse questioned. “I
-don’t wonder. Everybody what lays eyes on her luves her. She’s that
-dear----” here the tears got the better of the good woman for an
-instant and she forgot herself and pulled at the skirt of her new black
-dress thinking it was an apron, and wishing to wipe her eyes.
-
-Then suddenly Gordon found his lips uttering strange words, without his
-own apparent consent, as if his heart had suddenly taken things in hand
-and determined to do as it pleased without consulting his judgment.
-
-“Yes, I love her,” he was saying, and to his amazement he found that
-the words were true.
-
-This discovery made matters still more complicated.
-
-“Then ye’ll promise me something, Mister George, won’t ye?” said the
-nurse eagerly, her tears having their own way down her rosy anxious
-face. “Ye’ll promise me never to make her feel bad any more? She’s
-cried a lot these last three months, an’ nobody knows but me. She could
-hide it from them all but her old nurse that has loved her so long. But
-she’s been that sorrowful, enough fer a whole lifetime. Promise that
-ye’ll do all in yer power to make her happy always.”
-
-“I will do all in my power to make her happy,” he said, solemnly, as if
-he were uttering a vow, and wondered how short-lived that power was to
-be.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-
-The wedding party had arrived in full force now. Carriages and
-automobiles were unloading; gay voices and laughter filled the house.
-The servants disappeared to their places, and the white bride, with
-only a motioning look toward Gordon, led the way to the place where
-they were to stand under an arch of roses, lilies and palms, in a
-room hung from the ceiling with drooping ferns and white carnations
-on invisible threads of silver wire, until it all seemed like a fairy
-dream.
-
-Gordon had no choice but to follow, as his way was blocked by the
-incoming guests, and he foresaw that his exit would have to be made
-from some other door than the front if he were to escape yet awhile.
-As he stepped into the mystery of the flower-scented room where his
-lady led the way, he was conscious of a feeling of transition from the
-world of ordinary things into one of wonder, beauty and mysterious joy;
-but all the time he knew he was an impostor, who had no right in that
-silver-threaded bower.
-
-Yet there he stood bowing, shaking hands, and smirking behind his false
-mustache, which threatened every minute to betray him.
-
-People told him he was looking well, and congratulated him on his
-bride. Some said he was stouter than when he left the country, and
-some said he was thinner. They asked him questions about relatives
-and friends living and dead, and he ran constant risk of getting into
-hopeless difficulties. His only safety was in smiling, and saying very
-little; seeming not to hear some questions, and answering others with
-another question. It was not so hard after he got started, because
-there were so many people, and they kept coming close upon one another,
-so no one had much time to talk. Then supper with its formalities was
-got through with somehow, though to Gordon, with his already satisfied
-appetite and his hampering mustache, it seemed an endless ordeal.
-
-“Jeff,” as they all called him, was everywhere, attending to
-everything, and he slipped up to the unwilling bridegroom just as he
-was having to answer a very difficult question about the lateness of
-his vessel, and the kind of passage they had experienced in crossing.
-By this time Gordon had discovered that he was supposed to have been
-ten years abroad, and his steamer had been late in landing, but where
-he came from or what he had been doing over there were still to be
-found out; and it was extremely puzzling to be asked from what port he
-had sailed, and how he came to be there when he had been supposed to
-have been in St. Petersburg but the week before? His state of mind was
-anything but enviable. Besides all this, Gordon was just reflecting
-that the last he had seen of his hat and coat was in the church. What
-had become of them, and how could he go to the station without a hat?
-Then opportunely “Jeff” arrived.
-
-“Your train leaves at ten three,” he said in a low, business-like tone,
-as if he enjoyed the importance of having made all the arrangements.
-“I’ve secured the stateroom as you cabled me to do, and here are the
-tickets and checks. The trunks are down there all checked. Celia didn’t
-want any nonsense about their being tied up with white ribbon. She
-hates all that. We’ve arranged for you to slip out by the fire-escape
-and down through the back yard of the next neighbor, where a motor,
-just a plain regular one from the station, will be waiting around the
-corner in the shadow. Celia knows where it is. None of the party will
-know you are gone until you are well under way. The car they think you
-will take is being elaborately adorned with white at the front door
-now, but you won’t have any trouble about it. I’ve fixed everything up.
-Your coat and hat are out on the fire-escape, and as soon as Celia’s
-ready I’ll show you the way.”
-
-Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else to do, but his countenance
-grew blank. Was there, then, to be no escape? Must he actually take
-another man’s bride with him in order to get away? And how was he to
-get away from her? Where was the real bridegroom and why did he not
-appear upon the scene? And yet what complications that might bring up.
-He began to look wildly about for a chance to flee at once, for how
-could he possibly run away with a bride on his hands? If only some one
-were going with them to the station he could slip away with a clear
-conscience, leaving her in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill, and
-distressed was out of the question. He had rid himself of a lonely dog
-and a suffering child, though it gave him anguish to do the deed, but
-leave this lovely woman for whom he at least appeared to have become
-responsible, he could not, until he was sure she would come to no harm
-through him.
-
-“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-
-It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for an instant since it
-began, but had chimed its changes through music, ceremony, prayer
-and reception without interruption. It acted like a goad upon his
-conscience now. He must do something that would set him free to go back
-to Washington. An inspiration came to him.
-
-“Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with us?” he asked the young
-man, “I am sure your sister would like to have you.”
-
-The boy’s face lit up joyfully.
-
-“Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully, and--if it’s all the same
-to you, I wish Mother could go too. It’s the first time Celia and she
-were ever separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have to say
-good-by with the house full of folks this way. But she doesn’t expect
-it of course, and really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen
-Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip----”
-
-“There will be plenty of time for us,” said the compulsory bridegroom
-graciously, and felt as if he had perjured himself. It was not in his
-nature to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind.
-
-“I shall be glad to have you both come,” he added earnestly. “I really
-want you. Tell your mother.”
-
-The boy grasped his hand impulsively:
-
-“I say,” said he, “you’re all right! I don’t mind confessing that I’ve
-hated the very thought of you for a whole three months, ever since
-Celia told us she had promised to marry you. You see, I never really
-knew you when I was a little chap, but I didn’t used to like you. I
-took an awful scunner to you for some reason. I suppose kids often
-take irrational dislikes like that. But ever since I’ve laid eyes on
-you to-night, I’ve liked you all the way through. I like your eyes.
-It isn’t a bit as I thought I remembered you. I used to think your
-eyes had a sort of deceitful look. Awful to tell you, isn’t it? But I
-felt as if I wanted to have it off my conscience, for I see now you’re
-nothing of the kind. You’ve got the honestest eyes I ever saw on a man,
-and I’d stake my last cent that you wouldn’t cheat a church mouse.
-You’re true as steel, and I’m mighty glad you’re my brother-in-law. I
-know you’ll be good to Celia.”
-
-The slow color mounted under his disguise until it reached Gordon’s
-burnished brown hair. His eyes were honest eyes. They had always been
-so--until to-day. Into what a world of deceit he had entered! How he
-would like to make a clean breast of it all to this nice, frank boy;
-but he must not! for there was his trust! For an instant he was on the
-point of trying to explain that he was not the true bridegroom, and
-getting young Jefferson to help him to set matters right, but an influx
-of newly arrived guests broke in upon their privacy, and he could only
-press the boy’s hand and say in embarrassed tones:
-
-“Thank you! I shall try to be worthy of your good opinion hereafter!”
-
-It was over at last, and the bride slipped from his side to prepare
-for the journey. He looked hastily around, feeling that his very first
-opportunity had come for making an escape. If an open window had
-presented itself, he would have vaulted through, trusting to luck and
-his heels to get away, but there was no window, and every door was
-blocked by staring, admiring, smirking people. He bethought himself of
-the fire-escape where waited his hat and coat, and wondered if he could
-find it.
-
-With smiling apologies, he broke away from those around him, murmuring
-something about being needed, and worked his way firmly but steadily
-toward the stairs and thence to the back halls. Coming at last upon an
-open window, he slipped through, his heart beating wildly. He thought
-for a second that he was there ahead of the others; but a dark form
-loomed ahead and he perceived some one coming up from outside. Another
-second, and he saw it was his newly acquired brother-in-law.
-
-“Say, this is great!” was his greeting. “How did you manage to find
-your way up alone? I was just coming down after you. I wanted to leave
-you there till the last minute so no one would suspect, but now you
-are here we can hustle off at once. I just took Mother and Celia down.
-It was pretty stiff for Mother to climb down, for she was a little
-bit afraid, but she was game all right, and she was so pleased to go.
-They’re waiting for us down there in the court. Here, let me help you
-with your overcoat. Now I’ll pull down this window, so no one will
-suspect us and follow. That’s all right now, come on! You go ahead.
-Just hold on to the railing and go slow. I’ll keep close to you. I know
-the way in my sleep. I’ve played fire here many a year, and could climb
-down in my sleep.”
-
-Gordon found himself wishing that this delightful brother-in-law were
-really his. There was evidently to be no opportunity of escape here. He
-meditated making a dash and getting away in the dark when they should
-reach the foot of the stairs; much as he hated to leave that way, he
-felt he must do so if there was any chance for him at all; but when
-they reached the ground he saw that was hopeless. The car that was
-to take them to the station was drawn up close to the spot, and the
-chauffeur stood beside it.
-
-“Your mother says fer you to hurry, Mister Jefferson,” he called in a
-sepulchral tone. “They’re coming out around the block to watch. Get in
-as quick as you can.”
-
-The burly chauffeur stood below Gordon, helped him to alight on his
-feet from the fire-escape, and hustled him into the darkness of the
-conveyance.
-
-They were very quiet until they had left the dark court and were
-speeding away down the avenue. Then the bride’s mother laid two gentle
-hands upon Gordon’s, leaning across from her seat to do so, and said:
-
-“My son, I shall never forget this of you, never! It was dear of you to
-give me this last few minutes with my darling!”
-
-Gordon, deeply touched and much put to it for words, mumbled something
-about being very glad to have her, and Jefferson relieved the situation
-by pouring forth a volume of information and questions, fortunately not
-pausing long enough to have the latter answered. The bride sat with one
-hand clasped in her mother’s, and said not a word. Gordon was haunted
-by the thought of tears in her eyes.
-
-There was little opportunity for thinking, but Gordon made a hasty
-plan. He decided to get his party all out to the train and then
-remember his suit-case, which he had left checked in the station.
-Jefferson would probably insist upon going for it but he would insist
-more strenuously that the brother and sister would want to have
-this last minute together. Then he could get away in the crowd and
-disappear, coming later for his suit-case perhaps, or sending a porter
-from his own train for it. The only drawback to this arrangement was
-that it seemed a dishonorable way to leave these people who would
-in the nature of things be left in a most trying position by his
-disappearance, especially the sad little bride. But it could not be
-helped, and his staying would only complicate things still further,
-for he would have to explain who he was, and that was practically
-impossible on account of his commission. It would not do to run risks
-with himself until his mission was accomplished and his message
-delivered. After that he could confess and make whatever reparation a
-man in his strange position could render.
-
-The plan worked very well. The brother of course eagerly urged that he
-be allowed to go back for the suit-case, but Gordon, with well-feigned
-thoughtfulness, said in a low tone:
-
-“Your sister will want you for a minute all to herself.”
-
-A tender look came into the boy’s eyes, and he turned back smiling
-to the stateroom where his mother and sister were having a wordless
-farewell. Gordon jumped from the train and sprinted down the platform,
-feeling meaner than he ever remembered to have felt in his whole
-life, and with a strange heaviness about his heart. He forgot for the
-moment that there was need for him to be on his guard against possible
-detectives sent by Mr. Holman. Even the importance of the message
-he carried seemed to weigh less, now that he was free. His feet had
-a strange unwillingness to hurry, and without a constant pressure of
-the will would have lagged in spite of him. His heart wanted to let
-suit-case and commission and everything else go to the winds and take
-him back to the stateroom where he had left his sorrowful bride of
-an hour. She was not his, and he might not go, but he knew that he
-would never be the same hereafter. He would always be wondering where
-she was, wishing he could have saved her from whatever troubled her;
-wishing she were his bride, and not another’s.
-
-He passed back through the station gate, and a man in evening clothes
-eyed him sharply. He fancied he saw a resemblance to one of the men
-at the Holman dinner-table, but he dared not look again lest a glance
-should cost him recognition. He wondered blindly which way he should
-take, and if it would be safe to risk going at once to the checking
-window, or whether he ought to go in hiding until he was sure young
-Jefferson would no longer look for him. Then a hand touched his
-shoulder and a voice that was strangely welcome shouted:
-
-“This way, George! The checking place is over to the right!”
-
-He turned and there stood Jefferson, smiling and panting:
-
-“You see, the little mother had something to say to Celia alone, so I
-saw I was _de trop_, and thought I better come with you,” he declared
-as soon as he could get his breath.
-
-“Gee, but you can run!” added the panting youth. “What’s the hurry?
-It’s ten whole minutes before the train leaves. I couldn’t waste all
-that time kicking my heels on the platform, when I might be enjoying
-my new brother-in-law’s company. I say, are you really going to live
-permanently in Chicago? I do wish you’d decide to come back to New
-York. Mother’ll miss Celia no end. I don’t know how she’s going to
-stand it.”
-
-Walking airily by Gordon’s side, he talked, apparently not noticing the
-sudden start and look of mingled anxiety and relief that overspread
-his brother-in-law’s countenance. Then another man walked by them
-and turning looked in their faces. Gordon was sure this was the
-thick-set man from Holman’s. He was eying Gordon keenly. Suddenly all
-other questions stepped into the background, and the only immediate
-matter that concerned him was his message, to get it safely to its
-destination. With real relief he saw that this had been his greatest
-concern all the time, underneath all hindrances, and that there had
-not been at any moment any escape from the crowding circumstances other
-than that he had taken, step by step. If he had been beset by thieves
-and blackguards, and thrown into prison for a time he would not have
-felt shame at the delay, for those things he could not help. He saw
-with new illumination that there was no more shame to him from these
-trivial and peculiar circumstances with which he had been hemmed in
-since his start to New York than if he had been checked by any more
-tragic obstacles. His only real misgiving was about his marriage.
-Somehow it seemed his fault, and he felt there ought to be some way
-to confess his part at once--but how--without putting his message in
-jeopardy--for no one would believe unless they knew all.
-
-But the time of danger was at hand, he plainly saw. The man whom he
-dared not look closely at had turned again and was walking parallel to
-them, glancing now and again keenly in their direction. He was watching
-Gordon furtively; not a motion escaped him.
-
-There was a moment’s delay at the checking counter while the attendant
-searched for the suit-case, and Gordon was convinced that the man had
-stopped a few steps away merely for the purpose of watching him.
-
-He dared not look around or notice the man, but he was sure he followed
-them back to the train. He felt his presence as clearly as if he had
-been able to see through the back of his head.
-
-But Gordon was cool and collected now. It was as if the experiences
-of the last two hours, with their embarrassing predicaments, had been
-wiped off the calendar, and he were back at the moment when he left
-the Holman house. He knew as well as if he had watched them follow him
-that they had discovered his--theft--treachery--whatever it ought to be
-called--and he was being searched for; and because of what was at stake
-those men would track him to death if they could. But he knew also
-that his disguise and his companion were for the moment puzzling this
-sleuth-hound.
-
-This was probably not the only watcher about the station. There were
-detectives, too, perhaps, hired hastily, and all too ready to seize a
-suspect.
-
-He marvelled that he could walk so deliberately, swinging his suit-case
-in his gloved hand at so momentous a time. He smiled and talked easily
-with the pleasant fellow who walked by his side, and answered his
-questions with very little idea of what he was saying; making promises
-which his heart would like to keep, but which he now saw no way of
-making good.
-
-Thus they entered the train and came to the car where the bride and her
-mother waited. There were tears on the face of the girl, and she turned
-to the window to hide them. Gordon’s eyes followed her wistfully, and
-down through the double glass, unnoticed by her absent gaze, he saw the
-face of the man who had followed them, sharply watching him.
-
-Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he kept it on in spite
-of the presence of the ladies. The color rose in his cheeks that he had
-to seem so discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he insisted
-that he be allowed to take the elder lady to the platform, as it really
-was almost time for the train to start, and so he went deliberately out
-to act the part of bridegroom in the face of his recognized foe.
-
-The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on the vestibule platform,
-while Jefferson bade his sister good-by and tried to soothe her
-distress at parting from her mother.
-
-“He’s all right, Celie, indeed he is,” said the young fellow
-caressingly, laying his hand upon his sister’s bowed head. “He’s going
-to be awfully good to you; he cares a lot for you, and he’s promised
-to do all sorts of nice things. He says he’ll bring you back soon, and
-he would never stand in the way of your being with us a lot. He did
-indeed! What do you think of that? Isn’t it quite different from what
-you thought he would say? He doesn’t seem to think he’s got to spend
-the rest of his days in Chicago either. He says there might something
-turn up that would make it possible for him to change all his plans.
-Isn’t that great?”
-
-Celia tried to look up and smile through her tears, while the man
-outside studied the situation a moment in perplexity and then strolled
-slowly back to watch Gordon and the elder woman.
-
-“You will be good to my little girl,” he heard the woman’s voice
-pleading. “She has always been guarded, and she will miss us all, even
-though she has you.” The voice went through Gordon like a knife. To
-stand much more of this and not denounce himself for a blackguard would
-be impossible. Neither could he keep his hat on in the presence of this
-wonderful motherhood, a motherhood that appealed to him all the more
-that he had never known a mother of his own, and had always longed for
-one.
-
-He put up his hand and lifted his hat slightly, guarding as much as
-possible his own face from the view of the man on the station platform,
-who was still walking deliberately, considerately, up and down, often
-passing near enough to hear what they were saying. In this reverent
-attitude, Gordon said, as though he were uttering a sacred vow:
-
-“I will guard her as if she were--as if I were--as if I
-were--_you_”--then he paused a moment and added solemnly,
-tenderly--“Mother!”
-
-He wondered if it were not desecration to utter such words when all
-the time he was utterly unable to perform them in the way in which the
-mother meant. “Impostor!” was the word which rang in his ears now. The
-clamor about being hindered had ceased, for he was doing his best, and
-not letting even a woman’s happiness stand in the way of his duty.
-
-Yet his heart had dictated the words he had spoken, while his mind and
-judgment were busy with his perilous position. He could not gainsay his
-heart, for he felt that in every way he could he would guard and care
-for the girl who was to be in his keeping at least for a few minutes
-until he could contrive some way to get her back to her friends without
-him.
-
-The whistle of the train was sounding now, and the brakemen were
-shouting, “All aboard!”
-
-He helped the frail little elderly woman down the steps, and she
-reached up her face to kiss him. He bent and took the caress, the first
-time that a woman’s lips had touched his face since he was a little
-child.
-
-“Mother, I will not let anything harm her,” he whispered, and she said:
-
-“My boy, I can trust you!”
-
-Then he put her into the care of her strong young son, swung upon the
-train as the wheels began to move, and hurried back to the bride. On
-the platform, walking beside the train, he still saw the man. Going to
-the weeping girl, Gordon stooped over her gently, touched her on the
-shoulder, and drew the window shade down. The last face he saw outside
-was the face of the baffled man, who was turning back, but what for?
-Was he going to report to others, and would there perhaps be another
-stop before they left the city, where officers or detectives might
-board the train? He ought to be ready to get off and run for his life
-if there was. There seemed no way but to fee the porter to look after
-his companion, and leave her, despicable as it seemed! Yet his soul of
-honor told him he could never do that, no matter what was at stake.
-
-Then, without warning a new situation was thrust upon him. The bride,
-who had been standing with bowed head and with her handkerchief up to
-her eyes, just as her brother had left her, tottered and fell into
-his arms, limp and white. Instantly all his senses were called into
-action, and he forgot the man on the platform, forgot the possible
-next stop in the city, and the explanation he had been about to make
-to the girl; forgot even the importance of his mission, and the
-fact that the train he was on was headed toward Chicago, instead of
-Washington; forgot everything but the fact that the loveliest girl he
-had ever seen, with the saddest look a human face might wear, was lying
-apparently lifeless in his arms.
-
-Outside the window the man had turned back and was now running
-excitedly along with the train trying to see into the window; and
-down the platform, not ten yards behind, came a frantic man with
-English-looking clothes, a heavy mustache and goatee, shaggy eyebrows,
-and a sensual face, striding angrily along as fast as his heavy body
-would carry him.
-
-But Gordon saw none of them.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-
-Five hours before, the man who was hurling himself furiously after the
-rapidly retreating train had driven calmly through the city, from the
-pier of the White Star Line to the apartment of a man whom he had met
-abroad, and who had offered him the use of it during his absence. The
-rooms were in the fourth story of a fine apartment house. The returning
-exile noted with satisfaction the irreproachable neighborhood, as he
-slowly descended from the carriage, paid his fee, and entered the door,
-to present his letter of introduction to the janitor in charge.
-
-His first act was to open the steamer trunk which he had brought with
-him in the cab, and take therefrom his wedding garments. These he
-carefully arranged on folding hangers and hung in the closet, which was
-otherwise empty save for a few boxes piled on the high shelf.
-
-Then he hastened to the telephone and communicated with his best man,
-Jefferson Hathaway; told him the boat was late arriving at the dock,
-but that he was here at last; gave him a few directions concerning
-errands he would like to have done, and agreed to be at the church a
-half-hour earlier than the time set for the ceremony, to be shown just
-what arrangements had been made. He was told that his bride was feeling
-very tired and was resting, and agreed that it would be as well not
-to disturb her; they would have time enough to talk afterwards; there
-really wasn’t anything to say but what he had already written. And he
-would have about all he could do to get there on time as it was. He
-asked if Jefferson had called for the ring he had ordered and if the
-carriage would be sent for him in time and then without formalities
-closed the interview. He and Jefferson were not exactly fond of one
-another, though Jefferson was the beloved brother of his bride-to-be.
-
-He hung up the receiver and rang for a brandy and soda to brace himself
-for the coming ordeal which was to bind to him a woman whom for years
-he had been trying to get in his power and whom he might have loved if
-she had not dared to scorn him for the evil that she knew was in him.
-At last he had found a way to subdue her and bring her with her ample
-fortune to his feet and he felt the exultation of the conqueror as he
-went about his preparations for the evening.
-
-He made a smug and leisurely toilet, with a smile of satisfaction upon
-his flabby face. He was naturally a selfish person and had always known
-how to make other people attend to all bothersome details for him
-while he enjoyed himself. He was quite comfortable and self-complacent
-as he posed a moment before the mirror to smooth his mustache and note
-how well he was looking. Then he went to the closet for his coat.
-
-It was most peculiar, the way it happened, but somehow, as he stepped
-into that closet to take down his coat, which hung at the back where
-the space was widest, the opening at the wrist of his shirt-sleeve
-caught for just an instant in the little knob of the closet latch. The
-gold button which held the cuff to the wristband slipped its hold,
-and the man was free almost at once, but the angry twitch he had
-made at the slight detention had given the door an impetus which set
-it silently moving on its hinges. (It was characteristic of George
-Hayne that he was always impatient of the slightest detention.) He
-had scarcely put his hand upon his wedding coat when a soft steel
-click, followed by utter darkness, warned him that his impatience had
-entrapped him. He put out his hand and pushed at the door, but the
-catch had settled into place. It was a very strong, neat little catch,
-and it did its work well. The man was a prisoner.
-
-At first he was only annoyed, and gave the door an angry kick or two,
-as if of course it would presently release him meekly; but then he
-bethought him of his polished wedding shoes, and desisted. He tried to
-find a knob and shake the door, but the only knob was the tiny brass
-one on the outside of the catch, and you cannot shake a plain surface
-reared up before you. Then he set his massive, flabby shoulder against
-the door and pressed with all his might, till his bulky linen shirt
-front creaked with dismay, and his wedding collar wilted limply. But
-the door stood like adamant. It was massive, like the man, but it was
-not flabby. The wood of which it was composed had spent its early life
-in the open air, drinking only the wine of sunshine and sparkling air,
-wet with the dews of heaven, and exercising against the north blast. It
-was nothing for it to hold out against this pillow of a man, who had
-been nurtured in the dissipation and folly of a great city. The door
-held its own, and if doors do such things, the face of it must have
-laughed to the silent room; and who knows but the room winked back? It
-would be but natural that a room should resent a new occupant in the
-absence of a beloved owner.
-
-He was there, safe and fast, in the still dark, with plenty of time
-for reflection. And there were things in his life that called for his
-reflection. They had never had him at an advantage before.
-
-In due course of time, having exhausted his breath and strength in
-fruitless pushing, and his vocabulary in foolish curses, he lifted up
-his voice and roared. No other word would quite describe the sound that
-issued from his mighty throat. But the city roared placidly below him,
-and no one minded him in the least.
-
-He sacrificed the shiny toes of the shoes and added resounding kicks
-on the door to the general hubbub. He changed the roar to a bellow
-like a mad bull, but still the silence that succeeded it was as deep
-and monotonous as ever. He tried going to the back of the closet and
-hurling himself against the door, but he only hurt his soft muscles
-with the effort. Finally he sat down on the floor of the closet.
-
-Now, the janitor’s wife, who occupied an apartment somewhat
-overcrowded, had surreptitiously borrowed the use of this closet the
-week before, in order to hang therein her Sunday gown, whose front
-breadth was covered with grease-spots, thickly overlaid with French
-chalk. The French chalk had done its work and removed the grease-spots,
-and now lay thickly on the floor of the closet, but the imprisoned
-bridegroom did not know that, and he sat down quite naturally to rest
-from his unusual exertions, and to reflect on what could be done next.
-
-The immediate present passed rapidly in review. He could not afford
-more than ten minutes to get out of this hole. He ought to be on the
-way to the church at once. There was no knowing what nonsense Celia
-might get into her head if he delayed. He had known her since her
-childhood, and she had always scorned him. The hold he had upon her now
-was like a rope of sand, but only he knew that. If he could but knock
-that old door down! If he only hadn’t hung up his coat in the closet!
-If the man who built the house only hadn’t put such a fool catch on the
-door! When he got out he would take time to chop it off! If only he had
-a little more room, and a little more air! It was stifling! Great beads
-of perspiration went rolling down his hot forehead, and his wet collar
-made a cool band about his neck. He wondered if he had another clean
-collar of that particular style with him. If he _only_ could get out of
-this accursed place! Where were all the people? Why was everything so
-still? Would they never come and let him out?
-
-He reflected that he had told the janitor he would occupy the room with
-his baggage for two or three weeks perhaps, but he expected to go away
-on a trip this very evening. The janitor would not think it strange
-if he did not appear. How would it be to stay here and die? Horrible
-thought!
-
-He jumped up from the floor and began his howlings and gyrations once
-more, but soon desisted, and sat down to be entertained by a panorama
-of his past life which is always unpleasantly in evidence at such
-times. Fine and clear in the darkness of the closet stood out the
-nicely laid scheme of deviltry by which he had contrived to be at last
-within reach of a coveted fortune.
-
-Occasionally would come the frantic thought that just through this
-little mishap of a foolish clothespress catch he might even yet lose
-it. The fraud and trickery by which he had an heiress in his power
-did not trouble him so much as the thought of losing her--at least of
-losing the fortune. He must have that fortune, for he was deep in debt,
-and--but then he would refuse to think, and get up to batter at his
-prison door again.
-
-Four hours his prison walls enclosed him, with inky blackness all
-around save for a faint glimmer of light, which marked the well-fitted
-base of the door as the night outside drew on. He had lighted the gas
-when he began dressing, for the room had already been filled with
-shadows, and now, it began to seem as if that streak of flickering gas
-light was the only thing that saved him from losing his mind.
-
-Somewhere from out of the dim shadows a face evolved itself and gazed
-at him, a haggard face with piercing hollow eyes and despair written
-upon it. It reproached him with a sin he thought long-forgotten. He
-shrank back in horror and the cold perspiration stood out upon his
-forehead, for the eyes were the eyes of the man whose name he had
-forged upon a note involving trust money fifteen years before; and the
-man, a quiet, kindly, unsuspecting creature had suffered the penalty in
-a prison cell until his death some five years ago.
-
-Sometimes at night in the first years after his crime, that face had
-haunted him, appearing at odd intervals when he was plotting some
-particularly shady means of adding to his income, until he had resolved
-to turn over a new leaf, and actually gave up one or two schemes as
-being too unscrupulous to be indulged in, thus acquiring a comforting
-feeling of being virtuous. But it was long since the face had come.
-He had settled it in his mind that the forgery was merely a patch of
-wild oats which he had sown in his youth, something to be regretted but
-not too severely blamed for, and thus forgiving himself he had grown
-to feel that it was more the world’s fault for not giving him what
-he wanted than his own for putting a harmless old man in prison. Of
-the shame that had killed the old man he knew nothing, nor could have
-understood. The actual punishment itself was all that appealed to him.
-He was ever one that had to be taught with the lash, and then only
-kept straight while it was in sight.
-
-But the face was very near and vivid here in the thick darkness. It
-was like a cell, this closet, bare, cold, black. The eyes in the gloom
-seemed to pierce him with the thought: “This is what you made me
-suffer. It is your turn now. IT IS YOUR TURN NOW!” Nearer and nearer
-they came looking into his own, until they saw down into his very soul,
-his little sinful soul, and drew back appalled at the littleness and
-meanness of what they saw.
-
-Then for the first time in his whole selfish life George Hayne knew any
-shame, for the eyes read forth to him all that they had seen, and how
-it looked to them; and beside the tale they told the eyes were clean of
-sin and almost glad in spite of suffering wrongfully.
-
-Closer and thicker grew the air of the small closet; fiercer grew the
-rage and shame and horror of the man incarcerated.
-
-Now, from out the shadows there looked other eyes, eyes that had never
-haunted him before; eyes of victims to whom he had never cast a half a
-thought. Eyes of men and women he had robbed by his artful, gentlemanly
-craft; eyes of innocent girls whose wrecked lives had contributed to
-his selfish scheme of living; even the great reproachful eyes of
-little children who had looked to him for pity and found none. Last,
-above them all were the eyes of the lovely girl he was to have married.
-
-He had always loved Celia Hathaway more than he could have loved anyone
-or anything else besides himself, and it had eaten into his very being
-that he never could make her bow to him; not even by torture could he
-bring her to her knees. Stung by the years of her scorn he had stooped
-lower and lower in his methods of dealing with her until he had come
-at last to employ the tools of slow torture to her soul that he might
-bring low her pride and put her fortune and her scornful self within
-his power. The strength with which she had withheld him until the
-time of her surrender had turned his selfish love into a hate with
-contemplations of revenge.
-
-But now her eyes glowed scornfully, wreathed round with bridal white,
-and seemed to taunt him with his foolish defeat at this the last minute
-before the final triumph.
-
-Undoubtedly the brandy he had taken had gone to his head. Was he going
-mad that he could not get away from all these terrible eyes?
-
-He felt sure he was dying when at last the janitor came up to the
-fourth floor on his round of inspection, noticed the light flaring
-from the transom over the door occupied by the stranger who had said
-he was going to leave on a trip almost immediately, and went in to
-investigate. The eyes vanished at his step. The man in the closet lost
-no time in making his presence known, and the janitor, cautiously,
-and with great deliberation made careful investigation of the cause
-and reason for this disturbance and finally let him out, after having
-received promise of reward which never materialized.
-
-The stranger flew to the telephone in frantic haste, called up the
-house of his affianced bride, shouting wildly at the operator for all
-undue delays, and when finally he succeeded in getting some one to the
-’phone it was only to be told that neither Mrs. Hathaway nor her son
-were there. Were they at the church? “Oh, no,” the servant answered,
-“they came back from the church long ago. There is a wedding in the
-house, and a great many people. They are making so much noise I can’t
-hear. Speak louder please!”
-
-He shouted and raved at the servant, asking futile questions and
-demanding information, but the louder he raved the less the servant
-understood and finally he hung up the receiver and dashed about the
-room like an insane creature, tearing off his wilted collar, grabbing
-at another, jerking on his fine coat, searching vainly for his cuffs,
-snatching his hat and overcoat, and making off down the stairs;
-breathlessly, regardless of the demand of the janitor for the fee of
-freedom he had been promised.
-
-Out in the street he rushed hither and thither blindly in search of
-some conveyance, found a taxicab at last, and, plunging in, ordered it
-to go at once to the Hathaway address.
-
-Arrived there, he presented an enlivening spectacle to the guests, who
-were still making merry. His trousers were covered with French chalk,
-his collar had slipped from its confining button in front and curved
-gracefully about one fat cheek, his high hat was a crush indeed, having
-been rammed down to his head in his excitement. He talked so fast and
-so loud that they thought he was crazy and tried to put him out, but he
-shook his fist angrily in the face of the footman and demanded to know
-where Miss Hathaway was? When they told him she was married and gone,
-he turned livid with wrath and told them that that was impossible, as
-he was the bridegroom.
-
-By this time the guests had gathered in curious groups in the hall and
-on the stairs, listening, and when he claimed to be the bridegroom they
-shouted with laughter, thinking this must be some practical joke or
-else that the man was insane. But one older gentleman, a friend of the
-family, stepped up to the excited visitor and said in a quieting voice:
-
-“My friend, you have made a mistake! Miss Hathaway has this evening
-been married to Mr. George Hayne, just arrived from abroad, and they
-are at this moment on their way to take the train. You have come too
-late to see her, or else you have the wrong address, and are speaking
-of some other Miss Hathaway. That is very likely the explanation.”
-
-George looked around on the company with helpless rage, then rushed to
-his taxicab and gave the order for the station.
-
-Arriving at the station, he saw it was within half a minute of the
-departure of the Chicago train, and none knew better than he what time
-that train had been going to depart. Had he not given minute directions
-regarding the arrangements to his future brother-in-law? What did it
-all mean anyway? Had Celia managed somehow to carry out the wedding
-without him to hide her mortification at his non-appearance? Or had she
-run away? He was too excited to use his reason. He could merely urge
-his heavy bulk onward toward the fast fleeting train; and dashed up
-the platform, overcoat streaming from his arm, coat-tails flying, hat
-crushed down upon his head, his fat, bechalked legs rumbling heavily
-after him. He passed Jefferson and his mother; watching tearfully,
-lingeringly, the retreating train. Jefferson laughed at the funny
-spectacle, but the mother did not notice and only said absently: “I
-think he’ll be good to her, don’t you, Jeff? He has nice eyes. I don’t
-remember that his eyes used to seem so pleasant, and so--deferential.”
-Then they turned to go back to their car, and the train moved faster
-and faster out of the station. It would presently rush away out into
-the night, leaving the two pursuers to face each other, baffled.
-
-Both realized this at the same instant and the short, thick-set man
-with sudden decision turned again and plunging along with the train
-caught at the rail and swung himself with dangerous precipitation to
-the last platform of the last car with a half-frightened triumph.
-Looking back he saw the other man with a frantic effort sprint forward,
-trying to do the same thing, and failing in the attempt, sprawl flat on
-the platform, to the intense amusement of a couple of trainmen standing
-near.
-
-George Hayne, having thus come to a full stop in his headlong career,
-lay prostrate for a moment, stunned and shaken; then gathered himself
-up slowly and stood gazing after the departing train. After all, if he
-had caught it what could he have done? It was incredible that Celia
-could have got herself married and gone on her wedding trip without
-him. If she had eloped with some one else and they were on that train
-what could he have done? Kill the bridegroom and force the bride to
-return with him and be married over again? Yes, but that might have
-been a trifle awkward after all, and he had enough awkward situations
-to his account already. Besides, it wasn’t in the least likely that
-Celia was married yet. Those people at the house had been fooled
-somehow, and she had run away. Perhaps her mother and brother were gone
-with her. The same threats that had made her bend to him once should
-follow her wherever she had gone. She would marry him yet and pay for
-this folly a hundred fold. He lifted a shaking hand of execration
-toward the train which by this time was vanishing into the dark opening
-at the end of the station, where signal lights like red berries
-festooned themselves in an arch against the blackness, and the lights
-of the last car paled and vanished like a forgotten dream.
-
-Then he turned and hobbled slowly back to the gates regardless of the
-merriment he was arousing in the genial trainmen; for he was spent
-and bruised, and his appearance was anything but dignified. No member
-of the wedding company had they seen him at this juncture would have
-recognized in him any resemblance to the handsome gentleman who had
-played his part in the wedding ceremony. No one would have thought it
-possible that he could be Celia Hathaway’s bridegroom.
-
-Slowly back to the gate he crept, haggard, dishevelled, crestfallen;
-his hair in its several isolated locks downfallen over his forehead,
-his collar wilted, his clothes smeared with chalk and dust, his
-overcoat dragging forlornly behind him. He was trying to decide what
-to do next, and realizing the torment of a perpetual thirst, when a
-hand was laid suddenly upon him and a voice that somehow had a familiar
-twang, said: “You will come with me, sir.”
-
-He looked up and there before him in the flesh were the eyes of the man
-who had haunted him for years, the very eyes grown younger, and filled
-with more than reproach. They were piercing him with the keenness of
-retribution. They said, as plainly as those eyes in the closet had
-spoken but a brief hour before: “Your time is over. My time has come.
-You have sinned. You shall suffer. Come now and meet your reward.”
-
-He started back in horror. His hands trembled and his brain reeled. He
-wished for another cocktail to help him to meet this most extraordinary
-emergency. Surely, something had happened to his nerves that he was
-seeing these eyes in reality, and hearing the voice, that old man’s
-voice made young, bidding him come with him. It could not be, of
-course. He was unnerved with all he had been through. The man had
-mistaken him for some one--or perhaps it was not a man after all. He
-glanced quickly around to see if others saw him, and at once became
-aware that a crowd was collecting about them.
-
-The man with the strange eyes and the familiar voice was dressed in
-plain clothes, but he seemed to have full assurance that he was a real
-live man and had a right to dictate. George Hayne could not shake away
-his grasp. There was a determination about it that struck terror to his
-soul, and he had a weak desire to scream and hide his eyes. Could he be
-coming down with delirium tremens? That brandy must have been unusually
-strong to have lasted so long in its effects. Then he made a weak
-effort to speak, but his voice sounded small and frightened. The eyes
-took his assurance from him.
-
-“Who are you?” he asked, and meant to add, “What right have _you_
-to dictate to _me_?” but the words died away in his throat, for the
-plainclothes man had opened his coat and disclosed a badge that shone
-with a sinister light straight into his eyes.
-
-“I am Norman Brand,” answered the voice, “and I want you for what you
-did to my father. It is time you paid your debt. You were the cause
-of his humiliation and death. I have been watching for you for years.
-I saw the notice of your wedding in the paper and was tracking you. It
-was for this I entered the service. Come with me.”
-
-With a cry of horror George Hayne wrenched away from his captor and
-turned to flee, but instantly three revolvers were levelled at him, and
-he found that two policemen in brass buttons were stationed behind him,
-and the crowd closed in about him. Wherever he turned it was to look
-into the barrel of a gun, and there was no escape in any direction.
-
-They led him away to the patrol wagon, the erstwhile bridegroom, and
-in place of the immaculate linen he had searched so frantically for in
-his apartment they put upon his wrists cuffs of iron. They put him in a
-cell and left him with eyes of the old man for company and the haunting
-likeness of his son’s voice filling him with frenzy. The unquenchable
-thirst came upon him and he begged for brandy and soda, but none came
-to slake his thirst, for he had crossed the great gulf and justice at
-last had him in her grasp.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-
-Meantime the man on the steps of the last car of the Chicago Limited
-was having his doubts about whether he ought to have boarded that
-train. He realized that the fat traveller who was hurling himself after
-the train had stirred in him a sudden impulse which had been only half
-formed before and he had obeyed it. Perhaps he was following a wrong
-scent and would lose the reward which he knew was his if he brought the
-thief of the code-writing, dead or alive, to his employer. He was half
-inclined to jump off again now before it was too late; but looking down
-he saw they were already speeding over a network of tracks, and trains
-were flying by in every direction. By the time they were out of this
-the speed would be too great for him to attempt a jump. It was even now
-risky, and he was heavy for athletics. He must do it at once if he did
-it at all.
-
-He looked ahead tentatively to see if the track on which he must jump
-was clear, and the great eye of an engine stabbed him in the face, as
-it bore down upon him. The next instant it swept by, its hot breath
-fanning his cheek, and he drew back shuddering involuntarily. It was of
-no use. He could not jump here. Perhaps they would slow up or stop,
-and anyway, should he jump or stay on board?
-
-He sat down on the upper step the better to get the situation in hand.
-Perhaps in a minute more the way would be clearer to jump off if he
-decided not to go on. Thus he vacillated. It was rather unlike him not
-to know his own mind.
-
-It seemed as if there must be something here to follow, and yet,
-perhaps he was mistaken. He had been the first man of the company at
-the front door after Mr. Holman turned the paper over, and they all had
-noticed the absence of the red mark. It had been simultaneous with the
-clicking of the door-latch and he had covered the ground from his seat
-to the door sooner than anyone else. He could swear he had seen the
-man get into the cab that stood almost in front of the house. He had
-lost no time in getting into his own car which was detailed for such
-an emergency, and in signalling the officer on a motor-cycle who was
-also ready for a quick call. The carriage had barely turned the corner
-when they followed, there was no other of the kind in sight either way
-but that, and he had followed it closely. It must have been the right
-carriage. And yet, when the man got out at the church he was changed,
-much changed in appearance, so that he had looked twice into the empty
-carriage to make sure that the man for whom he searched was not still
-in there hiding. Then he had followed him into the church and seen him
-married; stood close at hand when he put his bride into a big car, and
-he had followed the car to the house where the reception was held; even
-mingling with the guests and watching until the bridal couple left for
-the train. He had stood in the alley in the shadow, the only one of the
-guests who had found how the bride was really going away, and again he
-had followed to the station.
-
-He had walked close enough to the bridegroom in the station to be
-almost sure that mustache and those heavy eyebrows were false; and yet
-he could not make it out. How could it be possible that a man who was
-going to be married in a great church full of fashionable people would
-so dare to flirt with chance as to accept an invitation to a dinner
-where he might not be able to get away for hours? What would have
-happened if he had not got there in time? Was it in the least possible
-that these two men could be identical? Everything but the likeness
-and the fact that he had followed the man so closely pointed out the
-impossibility.
-
-The thick-set man was accustomed to trust his inner impressions
-thoroughly, and in this case his inner impression was that he must
-watch this peculiar bridegroom and be sure he was not the right man
-before he forever got away from him--and yet--and yet, he might be
-missing the right man by doing it. However, he had come so far, had
-risked a good deal already in following and in throwing himself on
-that fast moving train. He would stay a little longer and find out
-for sure. He would try and get a seat where he could watch him and in
-an hour he ought to be able to tell if he were really the man who had
-stolen the code-writing. If he could avoid the conductor for a time he
-would simply profess to have taken the wrong train by mistake and maybe
-could get put off somewhere near home, in case he discovered that he
-was barking up the wrong tree. He would stick to the train for a little
-yet, inasmuch as there seemed no safe way of getting off at present.
-
-Having decided so much, he gave one last glance toward the twinkling
-lights of the city hurrying past, and getting up sauntered into the
-train, keeping a weather eye out for the conductor. He meant to burn
-no bridges behind him. He was well provided with money for any kind of
-a trip and mileage books and passes. He knew where to send a telegram
-that would bring him instant assistance in case of need, and even now
-he knew the officer on the motor-cycle had reported to his employer
-that he had boarded this train. There was really no immediate need for
-him to worry. It was big game he was after and one must take some risks
-in a case of that sort. Thus he entered the sleeper to make good the
-impression of his inner senses.
-
-Gordon had never held anything so precious, so sweet and beautiful and
-frail-looking, in his arms. He had a feeling that he ought to lay her
-down, yet there was a longing to draw her closer to himself and shield
-her from everything that could trouble her.
-
- * * * * *
-
-But she was not his--only a precious trust to be guarded and cared
-for as vigilantly as the message he carried hidden about his neck;
-she belonged to another, somewhere, and was a sacred trust until
-circumstances made it possible for him to return her to her rightful
-husband. Just what all this might mean to himself, to the woman in
-his arms, and to the man whom she was to have married, Gordon had not
-as yet had time to think. It was as if he had been watching a moving
-picture and suddenly a lot of circumstances had fallen in a heap
-and become all jumbled up together, the result of his own rash but
-unsuspecting steps, the way whole families have in moving pictures of
-falling through a sky-scraper from floor to floor, carrying furniture
-and inhabitants with them as they descend.
-
-He had not as yet been able to disentangle himself from the debris and
-find out what had been his fault and what he ought to do about it.
-
-He laid her gently on the couch of the drawing-room and opened the
-little door of the private dressing-room. There would be cold water in
-there.
-
-He knew very little about caring for sick people--he had always been
-well and strong himself--but cold water was what they used for people
-who had fainted, he was sure. He would not call in anyone to help,
-unless it was absolutely necessary. He pulled the door of the stateroom
-shut, and went after the water. As he passed the mirror, he started at
-the curious vision of himself. One false eyebrow had come loose and
-was hanging over his eye, and his goatee was crooked. Had it been so
-all the time? He snatched the eyebrow off, and then the other; but the
-mustache and goatee were more tightly affixed, and it was very painful
-to remove them. He glanced back, and the white, limp look of the girl
-on the couch frightened him. What was he about, to stop over his
-appearance when she might be dying, and as for pain--he tore the false
-hair roughly from him, and, stuffing it into his pocket, filled a glass
-with water and went back to the couch. His chin and upper lip smarted,
-but he did not notice it, nor know that the mark of the plaster was all
-about his face. He only knew that she lay there apparently lifeless
-before him, and he must bring the soul back into those dear eyes. It
-was strange, wonderful, how his feeling had grown for the girl whom he
-had never seen till three hours before.
-
-He held the glass to her white lips and tried to make her drink, then
-poured water on his handkerchief and awkwardly bathed her forehead.
-Some hairpins slipped loose and a great wealth of golden-brown hair
-fell across his knees as he half knelt beside her. One little hand
-drooped over the side of the couch and touched his. He started! It
-seemed so soft and cold and lifeless.
-
-He blamed himself that he had no remedies in his suit-case. Why had
-he never thought to carry something,--a simple restorative? Other
-people might need it though he did not. No man ought to travel without
-something for the saving of life in an emergency. He might have needed
-it himself even, in case of a railroad accident or something.
-
-He slipped his arm tenderly under her head and tried to raise it so
-that she could drink, but the white lips did not move nor attempt to
-swallow.
-
-Then a panic seized him. Suppose she was dying? Not until later, when
-he had quiet and opportunity for thought, did it occur to him what a
-terrible responsibility he had dared to take upon himself in letting
-her people leave her with him; what a fearful position he would have
-been in if she had really died. At the moment his whole thought was
-one of anguish at the idea of losing her; anxiety to save her precious
-life; and not for himself.
-
-Forgetting his own need of quiet and obscurity, he laid her gently back
-upon the couch again, and rushed from the stateroom out into the aisle
-of the sleeper. The conductor was just making his rounds and he hurried
-to him with a white face.
-
-“Is there a doctor on board, or have you any restoratives? There is a
-lady----” He hesitated and the color rolled freshly into his anxious
-face. “That is--my wife.” He spoke the word unwillingly, having at the
-instant of speaking realized that he must say this to protect her good
-name. It seemed like uttering a falsehood, or stealing another man’s
-property; and yet, technically, it was true, and for her sake at least
-he must acknowledge it.
-
-“My wife,” he began again more connectedly, “is ill--unconscious.”
-
-The conductor looked at him sharply. He had sized them up as a wedding
-party when they came down the platform toward the train. The young
-man’s blush confirmed his supposition.
-
-“I’ll see!” he said briefly. “Go back to her and I’ll bring some one.”
-
-It was just as Gordon turned back that the thick-set man entered the
-car from the other end and met him face to face, but Gordon was too
-distraught at that moment to notice him, for his mind was at rest about
-his pursuer as soon as the train started.
-
-Not so with the pursuer however. His keen little eyes took in the
-white, anxious face, the smear of sticking plaster about the mouth and
-eyebrows, and instantly knew his man. His instincts had not failed him
-after all.
-
-He put out a pair of brawny fists to catch at him, but a lurch of the
-train and Gordon’s swift stride out-purposed him, and by the time the
-little man had righted his footing Gordon was disappearing into the
-stateroom, and the conductor with another man was in the aisle behind
-him waiting to pass. He stepped back and watched. At least he had
-driven his prey to quarry and there was no possible escape now until
-the train stopped. He would watch that door as a cat watches a mouse,
-and perhaps be able to send a telegram for help before he made any move
-at all. It was as well that his impulse to take the man then and there
-had come to naught. What would the other passengers have thought of
-him? He must of course move cautiously. What a blunder he had almost
-made. It was no part of his purpose to make public his errand. The
-men who were behind him did not wish to be known, nor to have their
-business known.
-
-With narrowing eyes he watched the door of the stateroom as the
-conductor and doctor came and went. He gathered from a few questions
-asked by one of the passengers that there was some one sick, probably
-the lady he had seen faint as the train started. It occurred to him
-that this might be his opportunity, and when the conductor came out
-of the drawing-room the second time he inquired if any assistance was
-needed, and implied that doctoring was his profession, though it would
-be a sorry patient that had only his attention. However, if he had one
-accomplishment it was bluffing, and he never stopped at any profession
-that suited his needs.
-
-The conductor was annoyed at the interruptions that had already
-occurred and he answered him brusquely that they had all the help
-necessary and there wasn’t anything the matter anyway.
-
-There was nothing left for the man to do but wait.
-
-He subsided with his eye on the stateroom door, and later secured a
-berth in plain sight of that door, but gave no order to have it made
-up until every other passenger in the car was gone to what rest a
-sleeping-car provides. He kept his vigil well, but was rewarded with
-no sight of his prey that night, and at last with a sense of duty well
-done and the comfortable promise from the conductor that his deftly
-worded telegraphic message to Mr. Holman should be sent from a station
-they passed a little after midnight, he crept to his well-earned rest.
-He was not at home in a dress shirt and collar, being of the walks of
-life where a collar is mostly accounted superfluous, and he was glad
-to be relieved of it for a few hours. It had not yet occurred to him
-that his appearance in that evening suit would be a trifle out of place
-when morning came. It is doubtful if he had ever considered matters of
-dress. His profession was that of a human ferret of the lower order,
-and there were many things he did not know. It might have been the way
-he held his fork at dinner that had made Gordon decide that he was but
-a henchman of the others.
-
-Having put his mind and his body at rest he proceeded to sleep, and the
-train thundered on its way into the night.
-
-Gordon meanwhile had hurried back from his appeal to the conductor, and
-stood looking helplessly down at the delicate girl as she lay there
-so white and seemingly lifeless. Her pretty travelling gown set off
-the exquisite face finely; her glorious hair seemed to crown her. A
-handsome hat had fallen unheeded to the floor, and lay rolling back
-and forth in the aisle with the motion of the train. He picked it up
-reverently, as though it had been a part of her. His face in the few
-minutes had gone haggard.
-
-The conductor hurried in presently, followed by a grave elderly man
-with a professional air. He touched a practised finger to the limp
-wrist, looked closely into the face, and then taking a little bottle
-from a case he carried called for a glass.
-
-The liquid was poured between the closed lips, the white throat
-reluctantly swallowed it, the eyelids presently fluttered, a long
-breath that was scarcely more than a sigh hovered between the lips, and
-then the blue eyes opened.
-
-She looked about, bewildered, looking longest at Gordon, then closed
-her eyes wearily, as if she wished they had not brought her back, and
-lay still.
-
-The physician still knelt beside her, and Gordon, with time now to
-think, began to reflect on the possible consequences of his deeds.
-With anxious face, he stood watching, reflecting bitterly that he
-might not claim even a look of recognition from those sweet eyes,
-and wishing with all his heart that his marriage had been genuine. A
-passing memory of his morning ride to New York in company with Miss
-Bentley’s conjured vision brought wonder to his eyes. It all seemed
-so long ago, and so strange that he ever could have entertained for a
-moment the thought of marrying Julia. She was a good girl of course,
-fine and handsome and all that,--but--and here his eyes sought the
-sweet sad face on the couch, and his heart suffered in a real agony for
-the trouble he saw; and for the trouble he must yet give to her when he
-told her who he was, or rather who he was not; for he must tell her and
-that soon. It would not do to go on in her company--nor to Chicago! And
-yet, how was he possibly to leave her in this condition?
-
-But no revelations were to be given that night.
-
-The physician administered another draught, and ordered the porter to
-make up the berth immediately. Then with skilful hands and strong arms
-he laid the young girl in upon the pillows and made her comfortable,
-Gordon meanwhile standing awkwardly by with averted eyes and troubled
-mien. He would have liked to help, but he did not know how.
-
-“She’d better not be disturbed any more than is necessary to-night,”
-said the doctor, as he pulled the pretty cloth travelling gown smoothly
-down about the girl’s ankles and patted it with professional hands.
-“Don’t let her yield to any nonsense about putting up her hair, or
-taking off that frock for fear she’ll rumple it. She needs to lie
-perfectly quiet. It’s a case of utter exhaustion, and I should say a
-long strain of some kind--anxiety, worry perhaps.” He looked keenly at
-the sheepish bridegroom. “Has she had any trouble?”
-
-Gordon lifted honest eyes.
-
-“I’m afraid so,” he answered contritely, as if it must have been his
-fault some way.
-
-“Well, don’t let her have any more,” said the elder man briskly. “She’s
-a very fragile bit of womanhood, young man, and you’ll have to handle
-her carefully or she’ll blow away. Make her _happy_, young man! People
-can’t have too much happiness in this world. It’s the best thing, after
-all, to keep them well. Don’t be afraid to give her plenty.”
-
-“Thank you!” said Gordon, fervently, wishing it were in his power to do
-what the physician ordered.
-
-The kindly physician, the assiduous porter, and the brusque but
-good-hearted conductor went away at last, and Gordon was left with his
-precious charge, who to all appearances was sleeping quietly. The light
-was turned low and the curtains of the berth were a little apart. He
-could see the dim outline of drapery about her, and one shadowy hand
-lying limp at the edge of the couch, in weary relaxation.
-
-Above her, in the upper berth, which he had told the porter not to make
-up, lay the great purple-black plumed hat, and a sheaf of lilies of the
-valley from her bouquet. It seemed all so strange for him to be there
-in their sacred presence.
-
-He locked the door, so that no one should disturb the sleeper, and went
-slowly into the little private dressing-room. For a full minute after
-he reached it, he stood looking into the mirror before him, looking
-at his own weary, soiled face, and wondering if he, Cyril Gordon,
-heretofore honored and self-respecting, had really done in the last
-twelve hours all the things which he was crediting himself with having
-done! And the question was, how had it happened? Had he taken leave of
-his senses, or had circumstances been too much for him? Had he lost
-the power of judging between right and wrong? Could he have helped any
-of the things that had come upon him? How could he have helped them?
-What ought he to have done? What ought he to do now? Was he a criminal
-beyond redemption? Had he spoiled the life of the sweet woman out there
-in her berth, or could he somehow make amends for what he had done? And
-was he as badly to blame for it all as he felt himself to be?
-
-After a minute he rallied, to realize that his face was dirty. He
-washed the marks of the adhesive plaster away, and then, not satisfied
-with the result, he brought his shaving things from his suit-case
-and shaved. Somehow, he felt more like himself after his toilet was
-completed, and he slipped back into the darkened drawing-room and
-stretched himself wearily on the couch, which, according to his
-directions, was not made up, but merely furnished with pillows and a
-blanket.
-
-The night settled into the noisy quiet of an express train, and each
-revolution of the wheels, as they whirled their way Chicagoward,
-resolved itself into the old refrain, “Don’t let anything hinder you!
-Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-
-He certainly was not taking the most direct route from New York to
-Washington, though it might eventually prove that the longest way round
-was the shortest way home, on account of its comparative safety.
-
-As he settled to the quiet of his couch, a number of things came
-more clearly to his vision. One was that they had safely passed the
-outskirts of New York without interference of any kind, and must
-by this time be speeding toward Albany, unless they were on a road
-that took them more directly West. He had not thought to look at the
-tickets for knowledge of his bearings, and the light was too dim for
-him to make out any monograms or letterings on inlaid wood panels or
-transoms, even if he had known enough about New York railroads to gain
-information from them. There was one thing certain: even if he had been
-mistaken about his supposed pursuers, by morning there would surely be
-some one searching for him. The duped Holman combination would stop
-at nothing when they discovered his theft of the paper, and he could
-not hope that so sharp-eyed a man as Mr. Holman had seemed to be would
-be long in discovering the absence of his private mark on the paper.
-Undoubtedly he knew it already. As for the frantic bridegroom, Gordon
-dreaded the thought of meeting him. It must be put off at any hazards
-until the message was safe with his chief, then, if he had to answer
-with his life for carrying off another man’s bride, he could at least
-feel that he left no duty to his government undone. It was plain that
-his present situation was a dangerous one from two points of view,
-for the bridegroom would have no difficulty in finding out what train
-he and the lady had taken; and he was satisfied that an emissary of
-Holman had more than a suspicion of his identity. The obvious thing to
-do was to get off that train at the first opportunity and get across
-country to another line of railroad. But how was that to be done with a
-sick lady on his hands? Of course he could leave her to herself. She
-probably had taken journeys before, and would know how to get back. She
-would at least be able to telegraph to her friends to come for her. He
-could leave her money and a note explaining his involuntary villainy,
-and her indignation with him would probably be a sufficient stimulant
-to keep her from dying of chagrin at her plight. But as from the first
-every nerve and fibre in him rejected this suggestion. It would be
-cowardly, unmanly, horrible! Undoubtedly it might be the wise thing to
-do from many standpoints, but--_never_! He could no more leave her that
-way than he could run off to save his life and leave that message he
-carried. She was a trust as much as that. He had got into this, and he
-must get out somehow, but he would not desert the lady or neglect his
-duty.
-
-Toward morning, when his fitful vigil became less lucid it occurred
-to him that he ought really to have deserted the bride while she was
-still unconscious, jumping off the train at the short stop they made
-soon after she fell into his arms. She would then have been cared for
-by some one, his absence discovered, and she would have been put off
-the train and her friends sent for at once. But it would have been
-dastardly to have deserted her that way not knowing even if she still
-lived, he on whom she had at least a claim of temporary protection.
-
-It was all a terrible muddle, right and wrong juggled in such a
-mysterious and unusual way. He never remembered to have come to a spot
-before where it was difficult to know which of two things it was right
-to do. There had always before been such clearly defined divisions. He
-had supposed that people who professed not to know what was right were
-people who wished to be blinded on the subject because they wished to
-do wrong and think it right. But now he saw that he had judged such too
-harshly.
-
-Perhaps his brain had been overstrained with the excitement and
-annoyances of the day, and he was not quite in a condition to judge
-what was right. He ought to snatch a few minutes’ sleep, and then
-his mind would be clearer, for something must be done and that soon.
-It would not do to risk entering a large city where detectives and
-officers with full particulars might even now be on the watch for
-him. He was too familiar with the workings of retribution in this
-progressive age not to know his danger. But he really must get some
-sleep.
-
-At last he yielded to the drowsiness that was stealing over him--just
-for a moment, he thought, and the wheels hummed on their monotonous
-song: “Don’t let anything hinder! Don’t let anything----! Don’t
-let----! Don’t! Hin-der-r-r-r!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-
-The man slept, and the train rushed on. The night waned. The dawn grew
-purple in the east, and streaked itself with gold; then later got out
-a fillet of crimson and drew over its cloudy forehead. The breath of
-the lilies filled the little room with delicate fragrance, and mingled
-strange scenes in the dreams of the man and the woman so strangely
-united.
-
-The sad little bride grew restless and stirred, but the man on the
-couch did not hear her. He was dreaming of a shooting affray, in
-which he carried a bride in a gold pencil and was shot for stealing a
-sandwich out of Mr. Holman’s vest-pocket.
-
-The morning light grew clearer. The east had put on a vesture of gold
-above her purple robe, and its reflection shone softly in at the
-window, for the train was just at that moment rushing northward, though
-its general course was west.
-
-The sleeper behind the thick green curtains stirred again and became
-conscious, as in many days past, of her heavy burden of sorrow. Always
-at first waking the realization of it sat upon her as though it would
-crush the life from her body. Lying still with bated breath, she fought
-back waking consciousness as she had learned to do in the last three
-months, yet knew it to be futile while she was doing it.
-
-The sun shot up between the bars of crimson, like a topaz on a lady’s
-gown that crowns the whole beautiful costume. The piercing, jewelled
-light lay across the white face, touched the lips with warm fingers,
-and the troubled soul knew all that had passed.
-
-She lay quiet, letting the torrent sweep over her with its sickening
-realization. She was married! It was over--with the painful parting
-from dear ones. She was off away from them all. The new life she so
-dreaded had begun, and how was she to face it--the life with one whom
-she feared and did not respect? How could she ever have done it but for
-the love of her dear ones?
-
-Gradually she came to remember the night before--the parting with
-her mother and her brother; the little things that brought the tears
-again to her eyes. Then all was blankness. She must have fainted. She
-did not often faint, but it must be--yes, she remembered opening her
-eyes and seeing men’s faces about her, and George--could it have been
-George?--with a kinder look in his eyes than she had ever thought to
-see there. Then she must have fainted again--or had she? No, some one
-had lifted her into this berth, and she had drunk something and had
-gone to sleep. What had happened? Where was everybody? It was good
-to have been left alone. She grudgingly gave her unloved husband a
-fragment of gratitude for not having tried to talk to her. In the
-carriage on the way he had seemed determined to begin a long argument
-of some kind. She did not want to argue any more. She had written tomes
-upon the subject, and had said all she had to say. He was not deceived.
-He knew she did not love him, and would never have married him but for
-her mother’s sake and for the sake of her beloved father’s memory. What
-was the use of saying more? Let it rest. The deed was done, and they
-were married. Now let him have his way and make her suffer as he chose.
-If he would but let her suffer in silence and not inflict his bitter
-tongue upon her, she would try to bear it. And perhaps--oh, perhaps,
-she would not live long, and it would soon be all over.
-
-As the daylight grew, the girl felt an inclination to find out whether
-her husband was near. Cautiously she lifted her head, and, drawing back
-a corner of the curtain, peered out.
-
-He lay quietly on the couch, one hand under his cheek against the
-pillow, the other across his breast, as if to guard something. He
-was in the still sleep of the overwearied. He scarcely seemed to be
-breathing.
-
-Celia dropped the curtain, and put her hand to her throat. It startled
-her to find him so near and so still. Softly, stealthily, she lay down
-again and closed her eyes. She must not waken him. She would have as
-long a time to herself as was possible, and try to think of her dear
-mother and her precious brother. Oh, if she were just going away from
-them alone, how well she could bear it! But to be going with one whom
-she had always almost hated----
-
-Her brother’s happy words about George suddenly came to her mind.
-Jefferson had thought him fine. Well, of course the dear boy knew
-nothing about it. He had not read all those letters--those awful
-letters. He did not know the threats--the terrible language that had
-been used. She shuddered as she thought of it. But in the same breath
-she was glad that her brother had been deceived. She would not have it
-otherwise. Her dear ones must never know what she had gone through to
-save them from disgrace and loss of fortune--disgrace, of course, being
-the first and greatest. She had feared that George would let them see
-through his veneer of manners, and leave them troubled, but he had made
-a better appearance than she had hoped. Ten years had made a greater
-change in him than she had expected. He really had not been so bad as
-her conjured image of him.
-
-Then a sudden desire to look at him again seized her, to know once for
-all just how he really did seem. She would not want to notice him awake
-any more than she could help, nor dare, lest he presume upon her sudden
-interest, to act as if he had never offended; but if she should look
-at him now as he lay asleep she might study his face and see what she
-really had to expect.
-
-She fought the desire to peer at him again, but finally it gained
-complete possession of her, and she drew back the curtain once more.
-
-He was lying just as quietly as before. His heavy hair, a little
-disordered on the pillow, gave him a noble, interesting appearance. He
-did not seem at all a fellow of whom to be afraid. It was incredible
-that he could have written those letters.
-
-She tried to trace in his features a likeness to the youth of ten
-years ago, whom she had known when she was but a little girl, who had
-tied her braids to her chair, and put raw oysters and caterpillars
-down her back, or stretched invisible cords to trip her feet in dark
-places; who made her visits to a beloved uncle--whom he also had the
-right to call uncle, though he was no cousin of hers--a long list of
-catastrophes resulting in tears; who had never failed to mortify her on
-all occasions possible, and once---- But the memories were too horrible
-as they crowded one upon another! Let them be forgotten!
-
-She watched the face before her keenly, critically, yet she could see
-no trace of any such character as she had imagined the boy George must
-have developed as a man; of which his letters had given her ample
-proof. This man’s face was finely-cut and sensitive. There was nothing
-coarse or selfish in its lines. The long, dark eyelashes lay above dark
-circles of weariness, and gave that look of boyishness that always
-touches the maternal chord in a woman’s heart. George used to have a
-puffy, self-indulgent look under his eyes even when he was a boy. She
-had imagined from his last photograph that he would be much stouter,
-much more bombastic; but, then, in his sleep, perhaps those things fell
-from a man.
-
-She tried to turn away indifferently, but something in his face held
-her. She studied it. If he had been any other man, any stranger, she
-would have said from looking at him critically that kindness and
-generosity, self-respect and respect for women, were written all over
-the face before her. There was fine, firm modelling about the lips
-and the clean-shaven chin; and about the forehead the look almost of
-a scholar; yet she thought she knew the man before her to be none of
-these things. How deceptive were looks! She would probably be envied
-rather than pitied by all who saw her. Well, perhaps that was better.
-She could the easier keep her trouble to herself. But stay, what was
-there about this man that seemed different? The smooth face? Yes.
-She had the dim impression that last night he wore a mustache. She
-must have been mistaken, of course. She had only looked at him when
-absolutely necessary, and her brain was in such a whirl; but still
-there seemed to be something different about him.
-
-Her eyes wandered to the hand that lay across his breast. It was the
-fine white hand of the professional man, the kind of hand that somehow
-attracts the eye with a sense of cleanness and strength. There was
-nothing flabby about it. George as a boy used to have big, stumpy
-fingers and nails chewed down to the quick. She could remember how
-she used to hate to look at them when she was a little girl, and yet
-somehow could not keep her eyes away. She saw with relief that the
-nails on this hand were well shaped and well cared for.
-
-He looked very handsome and attractive as he lay there. The sun shot
-one of its early daring bolts of light across his hair as the train
-turned in its course and lurched northward around a curve. It glinted
-there for a moment, like a miniature search-light, travelling over the
-head, showing up every wave and curve. He had the kind of hair which
-makes a woman’s hand instinctively long to touch it. Celia wondered
-at the curious thoughts that crowded through her mind, knowing that
-all the while there was the consciousness that when this man should
-wake she would think of nothing but his hateful personality as she had
-known it through the years. And she was his wife! How strange! How
-terrible! How impossible to live with the thought through interminable
-weary years! Oh, that she might die at once before her strength failed
-and her mother found out her sorrow! She lay back again on her pillows
-very still and tried to think, but somehow a pleasant image of him,
-her husband, lingered in her memory. Could it be possible that she
-would ever see anything pleasant in him? Ever endure the days of his
-companionship? Ever come to the point where she could overlook his
-outrageous conduct toward her, forgive him, and be even tolerant of
-him? Sharp memories crowded upon her, and the smarting tears stung
-their way into her eyes, answering and echoing in her heart, “No, no, a
-thousand times, no!” She had paid his price and gained redemption for
-her own, but--forget what he had done? _Never!_
-
-The long strain of weariness, and the monotony of the onrushing train,
-lulled her half into unconsciousness again, and the man on the couch
-slumbered on.
-
-He came to himself suddenly, with all his senses on the alert, as the
-thumping noise and motion of the train ceased, and a sudden silence of
-open country succeeded, broken now and again by distant oncoming and
-receding voices. He caught the fragment of a sentence from some train
-official: “It’s a half-hour late, and maybe more. We’ll just have to
-lie by, that’s all. Here, you, Jim, take this flag and run up to the
-switch----” The voice trailed into the distance, ended by the metallic
-note of a hammer doing something mysterious to the underpinning of the
-car.
-
-Gordon sat up suddenly, his hand yet across his breast, where his first
-waking thought had been to feel if the little pencil-case were safe.
-
-Glancing stealthily toward the curtains of the berth, and perceiving no
-motion, he concluded that the girl still slept.
-
-Softly he slipped his feet into his shoes, gave one or two other
-touches to his toilet, and stood up, looking toward the curtains. He
-wanted to go out and see where they were stopping, but dared he go
-without knowing that she was all right?
-
-Softly, reverently, he stooped and brought his face close to the
-opening in the curtains. Celia felt his eyes upon her. Her own were
-closed, and by a superhuman effort she controlled her breathing,
-slowly, gently, as if she were asleep.
-
-He looked for a long moment, thrilled by the delicate beauty of her
-sleeping face, filled with an intoxicating joy to see that her lips
-were no longer white; then, turning reverently away, he unlocked the
-door and stepped forth.
-
-The other occupants of the car were still wrapped in slumber. Loud
-snores of various kinds and qualities testified to that. A dim light at
-the further end contended luridly, and losingly, with the daylight now
-flooding the outside world and creeping mischievously into the transoms.
-
-Gordon closed the door of the compartment noiselessly and went down the
-aisle to the end of the car.
-
-A door was open, and he could hear voices outside. The conductor stood
-talking with two brakemen. He heard the words: “Three-quarters of an
-hour at least,” and then the men walked off toward the engine.
-
-Gordon looked across the country, and for the first time since he
-started on his journey let himself remember that it was springtime and
-May.
-
-There had been a bitter wind the night before, with a hint of rain in
-the air. In fact, it had rained quite smartly during the ride to the
-hospital with the hurt child, but he had been so perturbed that he had
-taken little notice of the weather. But this was a radiant morning.
-
-The sun was in one of its most charming moods, when it touches
-everything with a sort of unnatural glory after the long winter of
-darkness and cold. Every tree trunk in the distance seemed to stand out
-clearly, every little grass-blade was set with a glowing jewel, and the
-winding stream across a narrow valley fairly blazed with brightness.
-The very road with its deep, clean wheel-grooves seemed like a
-well-taken photograph.
-
-The air had an alluring softness mingled with its tang of winter that
-made one long to take a walk anywhere out into the world, just for
-the joy of being and doing. A meadow-lark shot up from somewhere to a
-telegraph pole, let go a blithe note, and hurried on. It was glorious.
-The exhilaration filled Gordon’s blood.
-
-And here was the chance he craved to slip away from the train before
-it reached a place where he could be discovered. If he had but thought
-to bring his suit-case! He could slip back now without being noticed
-and get it! He could even go without it! But--he could not leave her
-that way--could he? Ought he? Perhaps he ought---- But it would not do
-to leave his suit-case with her, for it contained letters addressed to
-his real name. An explanation would of course be demanded, and he could
-never satisfy a loving mother and brother for having left a helpless
-girl in such a situation--even if he could satisfy his own conscience,
-which he knew he never could. He simply could not leave her, and yet he
-_must_ get away from that train as soon as possible. Perhaps this was
-the only opportunity he would have before reaching Buffalo, and it was
-very risky, indeed dangerous, to dare enter Buffalo. It was a foregone
-conclusion that there would be private detectives ready to meet the
-train in Buffalo with full descriptions and particulars and only too
-ready to make way with him if they could do so without being found out.
-He looked nervously back at the door of the car. Dared he attempt to
-waken her and say that they had made a mistake and must change cars?
-Was she well enough? And where could they go?
-
-He looked off toward the landscape for answer to his question.
-
-They were decidedly in the country. The train stood at the top of
-a high embankment of cinders, below which was a smooth country road
-running parallel to the railroad for some distance till it met another
-road at right angles to it, which stretched away between thrifty
-meadow-lands to a nestling village. The glorified stream he had first
-noticed far up the valley glinted narrower here in the morning light,
-with a suggestion of watercress and forget-me-nots in its fringes as
-it veered away under a bridge toward the village and hid itself in a
-tangle of willows and cat-tails.
-
-How easy it would be to slide down that embankment, and walk out that
-road over the bridge to the village, where of course a conveyance of
-some sort could be hired to bear him to another railroad town and
-thence to--Pittsburgh, perhaps, where he could easily get a train to
-Washington. How easy if only he were not held by some invisible hands
-to care for the sweet sleeper inside the car! And yet, for her sake as
-well as his own, he must do something, and that right speedily.
-
-He was standing thus in deep meditation, looking off at the little
-village which seemed so near and yet would be so far for her to walk,
-when he was pervaded with that strange sense of some one near. For an
-instant he resisted the desire to lift his eyes and prove to himself
-that no one was present in a doorway which a moment before he knew had
-been unoccupied. Then, frowning at his own nervousness, he turned.
-
-She stood there in all the beauty of her fresh young girlhood, a
-delicate pallor on her cheeks, and a deep sadness in her great dark
-eyes, which were fixed upon him intently, in a sort of puzzled study.
-She was fully dressed, even to her hat and gloves. Every wave of her
-golden hair lay exquisitely in place under the purple hat, as though
-she might have taken an hour or two at her toilet; yet she had made it
-with excited haste, and with trembling fingers, determined to have it
-accomplished before the return of her dreaded liege lord.
-
-She had sprung from her berth the instant he closed the door upon her,
-and fastened the little catch to bar him out. She had dashed cold water
-into her face, fastened her garments hurriedly, and tossed the glory
-of her hair into place with a few touches and what hairpins she could
-find on the floor. Then putting on her hat, coat, and gloves, she had
-followed him into the outer air. She had a feeling that she must have
-air to breathe or she would suffocate. A wild desire filled her to go
-alone into the great out-of-doors. Oh, if she but dared to run away
-from him! But that she might not do, for all his threats would then
-probably be made good by him upon her dear mother and brother. No,
-she must be patient and bear to the end all that was set down for her.
-But she would get out and breathe a little before he returned. He had
-very likely gone into the smoker. She remembered that the George of
-old had been an inveterate smoker of cigarettes. She would have time
-for a taste of the morning while he had his smoke. And if he returned
-and found her gone what mattered it? The inevitable beginning of
-conversations which she so dreaded would be put off for a time.
-
-She never thought to come upon him standing thus alone, looking off at
-the beauty of the morning as if he enjoyed it. The sight of him held
-her still, watching, as his sleeping face had held her gaze earlier
-in the morning. How different he was from what she had expected! How
-the ten years had changed him! One could almost fancy it might have
-changed his spirit also--but for those letters--those terrible letters!
-The writer of those letters could not change, except for the worse!
-And yet, he was handsome, intellectual looking, kindly in his bearing,
-appreciative of the beauty about him--she could not deny it. It was
-most astonishing. He had lost that baggy look under his eyes, and the
-weak, selfish, cruel pout of lip she remembered so keenly.
-
-Then he turned, and a smile of delight and welcome lit up his face. In
-spite of herself, she could not keep an answering smile from glimmering
-faintly in her own.
-
-“What! You up and out here?” he said, hastening closer to the step.
-“How are you feeling this morning? Better, I’m sure, or you would not
-be here so early.”
-
-“Oh, I had to get out to the air,” she said. “I couldn’t stand the car
-another minute. I wish we could walk the rest of the way.”
-
-“Do you?” he said, with a quick, surprised appreciation in his voice.
-“I was just wishing something like that myself. Do you see that
-beautiful straight road down there? I was longing to slide down this
-bank and walk over to that little village for breakfast. Then we could
-get an auto, perhaps, or a carriage, to take us on to another train. If
-you hadn’t been so ill last night, I might have proposed it.”
-
-“Could we?” she asked, earnestly. “I should like it so much;” and there
-was eagerness in her voice. “What a lovely morning!” Her eyes were
-wistful, like the eyes of those who weep and wonder why they may not
-laugh, since sunshine is still yellow.
-
-“Of course we could,” he said, “if you were only able.”
-
-“Oh, I’m able enough. I should much rather do that than to go back into
-that stuffy car. But wouldn’t they think it awfully queer of us to run
-away from the train this way?”
-
-“They needn’t know anything about it,” he declared, like a boy about
-to play truant. “I’ll slip back in the car and get our suit-cases. Is
-there anything of yours I might be in danger of leaving behind?”
-
-“No, I put everything in my suit-case before I came out,” she said,
-listlessly, as though she had already lost her desire to go.
-
-“I’m afraid you are not able,” he said, pausing solicitously as he
-scaled the steps.
-
-She was surprised at his interest in her welfare.
-
-“Why, of course I am,” she said, insistently. “I have often taken
-longer walks than that looks to be, and I shall feel much better for
-being out. I really feel as if I couldn’t stand it any longer in there.”
-
-“Good! Then, we’ll try it!”
-
-He hurried in for the baggage and left her standing on the cinder
-roadbed beside the train looking off at the opening morning.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-
-It was just at that instant that the thick-set man in his berth not ten
-feet away became broadly conscious of the unwonted stillness of the
-train and the cessation of motion that had lulled him to such sound
-repose. So does a tiny, sharp sound strike upon our senses and bring
-them into life again from sleep, making us aware of a state of things
-that has been going on for some time perhaps without our realization.
-The sound that roused him may have been the click of the stateroom
-latch as Gordon opened the door.
-
-The shades were down in the man’s berth and the curtains drawn close.
-The daylight had not as yet penetrated through their thickness. But
-once awake his senses were immediately on the alert. He yawned,
-stretched and suddenly arrested another yawn to analyze the utter
-stillness all about him. A sonorous snore suddenly emphasized the
-quiet of the car, and made him aware of all the occupants of all those
-curtained apartments. His mind went over a quick résumé of the night
-before, and detailed him at once to duty.
-
-Another soft clicking of the latch set him to listening and his bristly
-shocked head was stuck instantly out between the curtains into the
-aisle, eyes toward the stateroom door, just in time to see that a man
-was stealing quietly down the passageway out of the end door, carrying
-two suit-cases and an umbrella. It was his man. He was sure instantly,
-and his mind grew frantic with the thought. Almost he had outdone
-himself through foolish sleep.
-
-He half sprang from his berth, then remembered that he was but partly
-dressed, and jerked back quickly to grab his clothes, stopping in
-the operation of putting them on to yank up his window shade with an
-impatient click and flatten his face against the window-pane!
-
-Yes, there they were down on the ground outside the train, both of
-them; man, woman, baggage and all slipping away from him while he slept
-peacefully and let them go! The language of his mind at that point was
-hot with invectives.
-
-Gordon had made his way back to the girl’s side without meeting any
-porters or wakeful fellow-passengers. But a distant rumbling greeted
-his ears. The waited-for express was coming. If they were to get away,
-it must be done at once or their flight would be discovered, and
-perhaps even prevented. It certainly was better not to have it known
-where they got off. He had taken the precaution to close the stateroom
-door behind him and so it might be some time before their absence
-would be discovered. Perhaps there would be other stops before the
-train reached Buffalo, in which case their track would not easily be
-followed. He had no idea that the evil eye of his pursuer was even then
-upon him.
-
-Celia was already on the ground, looking off toward the little village
-wistfully. Just how it was to make her lot any brighter to get out
-of the train and run away to a strange little village she did not
-quite explain to herself, but it seemed to be a relief to her pent-up
-feelings. She was half afraid that George might raise some new
-objection when he returned.
-
-Gordon swung himself down on the cinder path, scanning the track
-either way. The conductor and brakemen were not in sight. Far in the
-distance a black speck was rushing down upon them. Gordon could hear
-the vibration of the rail of the second track, upon which he placed his
-foot as he helped Celia across. In a moment more the train would pass.
-It was important that they should be down the embankment, out of sight.
-Would the delicate girl not be afraid of the steep incline?
-
-She hesitated for just an instant at the top, for it was very steep.
-Then, looking up at him, she saw that he expected her to go down with
-him. She gave a little frightened gasp, set her lips, and started.
-
-He held her as well as he could with two suit-cases and an umbrella
-clutched in his other hand, and finally, as the grade grew steeper,
-he let go the baggage altogether, and it slid briskly down by itself,
-while he devoted himself to steadying the girl’s now inevitable and
-swift descent.
-
-It certainly was not an ideal way of travelling, this new style of
-“gravity” road, but it landed them without delay, though much shaken
-and scratched, and divested of every vestige of dignity. It was
-impossible not to laugh, and Celia’s voice rang out merrily, showing
-that she had not always wept and looked sorrowful.
-
-“Are you much hurt?” asked Gordon anxiously, holding her hands and
-looking down at her tenderly.
-
-Before she could reply, the express train roared above them, drowning
-their voices and laughter; and when it was past they saw their own
-train take up its interrupted way grumblingly, and rapidly move off.
-If the passengers on those two trains had not been deeply wrapped in
-slumber, they might have been surprised to see two fashionably attired
-young persons, with hats awry and clasped hands, laughing in a country
-road at five o’clock of a May morning. But only one was awake, and by
-the time the two in the road below remembered to look up and take
-notice, the trains were rapidly disappearing.
-
-The girl had been deeply impressed with Gordon’s solicitude for her.
-It was so out of keeping with his letters. He had never seemed to care
-whether she suffered or not. In all the arrangements, he had said what
-_he_ wanted, indeed what he _would have_, with an implied threat in
-the framing of his sentence in case she dared demur. Never had there
-been the least expression of desire for her happiness. Therefore it was
-something of a surprise to find him so gentle and thoughtful of her.
-Perhaps, after all, he would not prove so terrible to live with as she
-had feared. And yet--how could anyone who wrote those letters have any
-alleviating qualities? It could not be. She must harden herself against
-him. Still, if he would be outwardly decent to her, it would make her
-lot easier, of course.
-
-But her course of mental reasoning was broken in upon by his stout
-denunciations of himself.
-
-“I ought not to have allowed you to slide down there,” he declared. “It
-was terrible, after what you went through last night. I didn’t realize
-how steep and rough it was. Indeed I didn’t. I don’t see how you ever
-can forgive me.”
-
-“Why, I’m not hurt,” she said gently, astonished at his solicitation.
-There was a strange lump in her throat brought by his kindness, which
-threatened tears. Just why should kindness from an unexpected quarter
-bring tears?
-
-“I’m only a little shaken up,” she went on as she saw a real anxiety
-in his brown eyes, “and I don’t mind it in the least. I think it was
-rather fun, don’t you?”
-
-A faint glimmer of a smile wavered over the corners of her mouth, and
-Gordon experienced a sudden desire to take her in his arms and kiss
-her. It was a strange new feeling. He had never had any such thought
-about Julia Bentley.
-
-“Why, I--why, yes, I guess so, if you’re sure you’re not hurt.”
-
-“Not a bit,” she said, and then, for some unexplained reason, they both
-began to laugh. After that they felt better.
-
-“If your shoes are as full of these miserable cinders as mine are, they
-need emptying,” declared Gordon, shaking first one well-shod foot and
-then the other, and looking ruefully at the little velvet boots of the
-lady.
-
-“Suppose you sit down”--he looked about for a seat, but the dewy grass
-was the only resting place visible. He pitched upon the suit-cases and
-improvised a chair. “Now, sit down and let me take them off for you.”
-
-He knelt in the road at her feet as she obeyed, protesting that she
-could do it for herself. But he overruled her, and began clumsily to
-unbutton the tiny buttons, holding the timid little foot firmly, almost
-reverently, against his knee.
-
-He drew the velvet shoe softly off, and, turning it upside down, shook
-out the intruding cinders, put a clumsy finger in to make sure they
-were all gone; then shyly, tenderly, passed his hand over the sole of
-the fine silk-stockinged foot that rested so lightly on his knee, to
-make sure no cinders clung to it. The sight and touch of that little
-foot stirred him deeply. He had never before been called upon to render
-service so intimate to any woman, and he did it now with half-averted
-gaze and the utmost respect in his manner. As he did it he tried to
-speak about the morning, the departing train, the annoying cinders,
-anything to make their unusual position seem natural and unstrained. He
-felt deeply embarrassed, the more so because of his own double part in
-this queer masquerade.
-
-Celia sat watching him, strangely stirred. Her wonder over his kindness
-grew with each moment, and her prejudices almost dissolved. She could
-not understand it. There must be something more he wanted of her, for
-George Hayne had never been kind in the past unless he wanted something
-of her. She dreaded lest she should soon find it out. Yet he did not
-look like a man who was deceiving her. She drew a deep sigh. If only
-it were true, and he were good and kind, and had never written those
-awful letters! How good and dear it would be to be tenderly cared for
-this way! Her lips drooped at the corners, and her eyelids drooped in
-company with the sigh; then Gordon looked up in great distress.
-
-“You are tired!” he declared, pausing in his attempt to fasten the
-little pearl buttons. “I have been cruel to let you get off the train!”
-
-“Indeed I’m not,” said the girl, brightening with sudden effort. At
-least, she would not spoil the kindness while it lasted. It was surely
-better than what she had feared.
-
-“You never can button those shoes with your fingers,” she laughed,
-as he redoubled his efforts to capture a tiny disc of pearl and set
-it into its small velvet socket. “Here! I have a button-hook in my
-hand-bag. Try this.”
-
-She produced a small silver instrument from a gold-link bag on her arm
-and handed it to him. He took it helplessly, trying first one end and
-then the other, and succeeding with neither.
-
-“Here, let me show you,” she laughed, pulling off one glove. Her white
-fingers grasped the silver button-hook, and flashed in and out of
-the velvet holes, knitting the little shoe to the foot in no time. He
-watched the process in humble wonder, and she would not have been a
-human girl not to have been flattered with his interest and admiration.
-For the minute she forgot who and what he was, and let her laugh ring
-out merrily; and so with shy audacity he assayed to take off the other
-shoe.
-
-They really felt quite well acquainted and as if they were going on
-a day’s picnic, when they finally gathered up their belongings and
-started down the road. Gordon summoned all his ready wit and intellect
-to brighten the walk for her, though he found himself again and again
-on the brink of referring to his Washington life, or some other
-personal matter that would have brought a wondering question to her
-lips. He had decided that he must not tell her who he was until he
-could put her in an independent position, where she could get away
-from him at once if she chose. He was bound to look after her until
-he could place her in good hands, or at least where she could look
-after herself, and it was better to carry it out leaving her to think
-what she pleased until he could tell her everything. If all went well,
-they might be able to catch a Pittsburgh train that night and be in
-Washington the next day. Then, his message delivered, he would tell
-her the whole story. Until then he must hold his peace.
-
-They went gaily down the road, the girl’s pale cheeks beginning
-to flush with the morning and the exercise. She was not naturally
-delicate, and her faint the night before had been the result of a
-series of heavy strains on a heart burdened with terrible fear. The
-morning and his kindness had made her forget for the time that she was
-supposed to be walking into a world of dread and sacrifice.
-
- “The year’s at the spring,
- The day’s at the morn,”
-
-quoted Gordon gaily,
-
- “Morning’s at seven;
- The hill-side’s dew-pearled----”
-
-He waved an umbrella off to where a hill flashed back a thousand lights
-from its jewelled grass-blades thickly set.
-
- “The lark’s on the wing;
- The snail’s on the thorn,”
-
-went on Celia suddenly catching his spirit, and pointing to a lark that
-darted up into the blue with a trill of the morning in his throat.
-
-Gordon turned appreciative eyes upon her. It was good to have her take
-up his favorite poet in that tone of voice--a tone that showed she too
-knew and loved Browning.
-
- “God’s in his heaven,
- All’s right with the world,”
-
-finished Gordon in a quieter voice, looking straight into her eyes.
-“That seems very true, to-day, doesn’t it?”
-
-The blue eyes wavered with a hint of shadow in them as they looked back
-into the brown ones.
-
-“Almost--perhaps,” she faltered wistfully.
-
-The young man wished he dared go behind that “almost--perhaps” and find
-out what she meant, but concluded it were better to bring back the
-smile and help her to forget for a little while at least.
-
-Down by the brook, they paused to rest, under a weeping willow, whose
-green-tinged plumes were dabbling in the brook. Gordon arranged the
-suit-cases for her to sit upon, then climbed down to the brookside and
-gathered a great bunch of forget-me-nots, blue as her eyes, and brought
-them to her.
-
-She looked at them in wonder, to think they grew out here, wild,
-untended. She had never seen them before, except in pots in the
-florist’s windows. She touched them delicately with the tips of her
-fingers, as if they were too ethereal for earth; then fastened them in
-the breast of her gown.
-
-“They exactly match your eyes!” he exclaimed involuntarily, and then
-wished he had not spoken, for she flushed and paled under his glance,
-until he felt he had been unduly bold. He wondered why he had said
-that. He never had been in the habit of saying pretty things to girls,
-but this girl somehow called it from him. It was genuine. He sat a
-moment abashed, not knowing what to say next, as if he were a shy boy,
-and she did not help him, for her eyelashes drooped in a long becoming
-sweep over her cheeks, and she seemed for the moment not to be able to
-carry off the situation. He was not sure if she were displeased or not.
-
-Her heart had thrilled strangely as he spoke, and she was vexed with
-herself that it should be so. A man who had bullied and threatened her
-for three terrible months and forced her to marry him had no right to
-a thrill of her heart nor a look from her eyes, be he ever so kind for
-the moment. He certainly was nice and pleasant when he chose to be;
-she must watch herself, for never, never, must she yield weakly to his
-smooth overtures. Well did she know him. He had some reason for all
-this pleasantness. It would surely be revealed soon.
-
-She stiffened her lips and tried to look away from him to the
-purply-green hills; but the echo of his words came upon her again,
-and again her heart thrilled at them. What if--oh what if he were all
-right, and she might accept the admiration in his voice? And yet how
-could that be possible? The sweet color came into her cheeks again,
-and the tears flew quickly to her eyes, till they looked all sky and
-dew, and she dared not turn back to him.
-
-The silence remained unbroken, until a lark in the willow copse behind
-them burst forth into song and broke the spell that was upon them.
-
-“Are you offended at what I said?” he asked earnestly. “I am sorry if
-you did not like it. The words said themselves without my stopping to
-think whether you might not like it. Will you forgive me?”
-
-“Oh,” she said, lifting her forget-me-not eyes to his, “I am not
-offended. There is nothing to forgive. It was--beautiful!”
-
-Then his eyes spoke the compliment over again, and the thrill started
-anew in her heart, till her cheeks grew quite rosy, and she buried her
-face in the coolness of the tiny flowers to hide her confusion.
-
-“It was very true,” he said in a low, lover-like voice that sounded
-like a caress.
-
-“Oughtn’t we to hurry on to catch our train?” said Celia, suddenly
-springing to her feet. “I’m quite rested now.” She felt if she stayed
-there another moment she would yield to the spell he had cast upon her.
-
-With a dull thud of consciousness the man got himself to his feet and
-reminded himself that this was another man’s promised wife to whom he
-had been letting his soul go out.
-
-“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-suddenly babbled out the little brook, and he gathered up his
-suit-cases and started on.
-
-“I am going to carry my suit-case,” declared a very decided voice
-behind him, and a small hand seized hold of its handle.
-
-“I beg your pardon, you are not!” declared Gordon in a much more
-determined voice.
-
-“But they are too heavy for you--both of them--and the umbrella too,”
-she protested. “Give me the umbrella then.”
-
-But he would not give her even the umbrella, rejoicing in his strength
-to shield her and bear her burdens. As she walked beside him, she
-remembered vividly a morning when George Hayne had made her carry two
-heavy baskets, that his hands might be free to shoot birds. Could this
-be the same George Hayne?
-
-Altogether, it was a happy walk, and far shorter than either had
-expected it to be, though Gordon worried not a little about his frail
-companion before they came to the outskirts of the village, and kept
-begging her to sit down and rest again, but she would not. She was
-quite eager and excited about the strange village to which they were
-coming. Its outlying farm-houses were all so clean and white, with
-green blinds folded placidly over their front windows, and only their
-back doors astir. The cows all looked peaceful, and the dogs all seemed
-friendly.
-
-They walked up the village street, shaded in patches with flecks of
-sunshine through the young leaves. If anyone had told Celia Hathaway
-the night before that she would have walked and talked thus to-day
-with her bridegroom she would have laughed him to scorn. But now all
-unconsciously she had drifted into an attitude of friendliness with the
-man whom she had thought to hate all the rest of her life.
-
-One long, straight, maple-lined street, running parallel to the stream,
-comprised the village. They walked to the centre of it, and still saw
-no signs of a restaurant. A post-office, a couple of stores and a
-bakery made up the business portion of the town, and upon enquiry it
-appeared that there was no public eating house, the one hotel of the
-place having been sold at auction the week before on account of the
-death of the owner. The early village loungers stared disinterestedly
-at the phenomenal appearance in their midst of a couple of city folks
-with their luggage and no apparent means of transit except their two
-delicately shod feet. It presented a problem too grave to be solved
-unassisted, and there were solemn shakings of the head over them. At
-last one who had discouragingly stated the village lack of a public inn
-asked casually:
-
-“Hed a runaway?”
-
-“Oh, no!” laughed Gordon pleasantly. “We didn’t travel with horses.”
-
-“Hed a puncture, then,” announced the village wiseacre, shifting from
-one foot to the other.
-
-“Wal, you come the wrong direction to git help,” said another languid
-listener. “Thur ain’t no garridge here. The feller what uset to keep it
-skipped out with Sam Galt’s wife a month ago. You’d ought to ’a’ turned
-back to Ashville. They got a good blacksmith there can tinker ye up.”
-
-“Is that so?” said Gordon interestedly. “Well now that’s too bad, but
-perhaps as it can’t be helped we’ll have to forget it. What’s the next
-town on ahead and how far?”
-
-“Sugar Grove’s two mile further on, and Milton’s five. They’ve got a
-garridge and a rest’rant to Milton, but that’s only sence the railroad
-built a junction there.”
-
-“Has anyone here a conveyance I could hire to take us to Milton?”
-questioned Gordon, looking anxiously about the indolent group.
-
-“I wouldn’t want to drive to Milton for less’n five dollars,” declared
-a lazy youth after a suitable pause.
-
-“Very well,” said Gordon. “How soon can you be ready, and what sort of
-a rig have you? Will it be comfortable for the lady?”
-
-The youth eyed the graceful woman in her dainty city dress scornfully.
-His own country lass was dressed far prettier to his mind; but the eyes
-of her, so blue, like the little weed-flowers at her breast, went to
-his head. His tongue was suddenly tied.
-
-“It’s all right! It’s as good’s you’ll get!” volunteered a sullen-faced
-man half sitting on a sugar barrel. He was of a type who preferred to
-see fashionable ladies uncomfortable.
-
-The youth departed for his “team” and after some enquiries Gordon
-found that he might be able to persuade the owner of the tiny white
-colonial cot across the street to prepare a “snack” for himself and
-his companion, so they went across the street and waited fifteen
-minutes in a dank little hair-cloth parlor adorned in funeral wreaths
-and knit tidies, for a delicious breakfast of poached eggs, coffee,
-home-made bread, butter like roses, and a comb of amber honey. To each
-the experience was a new one, and they enjoyed it together like two
-children, letting their eyes speak volumes of comments in the midst of
-the old lady’s volubility. Unconsciously by their experiences they
-were being brought into sympathy with each other.
-
-The “rig” when it arrived at the door driven by the blushing youth
-proved to be a high spring wagon with two seats. In the front one the
-youth lounged without a thought of assisting his passengers. Gordon
-swung the baggage up, and then lifted the girl into the back seat,
-himself taking the place beside her, and planting a firm hand and arm
-behind the backless seat, that she might feel more secure.
-
-That ride, with his arm behind her, was just one more link in the
-pretty chain of sympathy that was being welded about these two.
-Unconsciously more and more she began to droop, until when she grew
-very tired he seemed to know at once.
-
-“Just lean against my arm,” he said. “You must be very tired and it
-will help you bear the jolting.” He spoke as if his arm were made of
-wood or iron, and was merely one of his belongings, like an umbrella
-or suit-case. He made it seem quite the natural thing for her to
-lean against him. If he had claimed it as her right and privilege
-as wife, she would have recoiled from him for recalling to her the
-hated relation, and would have sat straight as a bean-pole the rest
-of the way, but, as it was, she sank back a trifle deprecatingly, and
-realized that it was a great help. In her heart she thanked him for
-making it possible for her to rest without entirely compromising her
-attitude toward him. There was nothing about it that suggested anything
-lover-like; it seemed just a common courtesy.
-
-Yet the strong arm almost trembled as he felt the precious weight
-against it, and he wished that the way were ten miles instead of five.
-Once, as Celia leaned forward to point to a particularly lovely bit of
-view that opened up as they wound around a curve in the road, they ran
-over a stone, and the wagon gave an unexpected jolt. Gordon reached
-his hand out to steady her, and she settled back to his arm with a
-sense of safety and being cared for that was very pleasant. Looking up
-shyly, she saw his eyes upon her, with that deep look of admiration
-and something more, and again that strange thrill of joy that had
-come when he gave her the forget-me-nots swept through her. She felt
-almost as if she were harboring a sinful thought when she remembered
-the letters he had written; but the joy of the day, and the sweetness
-of happiness for even a moment, when she had been for so long a time
-sad, was so pleasant that she let herself enjoy it and drift, refusing
-to think evil of him now, here, in this bright day. Thus like children
-on a picnic, they passed through Sugar Grove and came to the town of
-Milton, and there they bade their driver good-by, rewarding him with
-a crisp five-dollar bill. He drove home with a vision of smiles in
-forget-me-not eyes, and a marked inability to tell anything about his
-wonderful passengers who had filled the little village with awe and
-amazement, and had given no clue to anyone as to who or what they were.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-
-But to go back to the pursuer, in his berth, baffled and frantic and
-raging. With hands that fumbled because of their very eagerness he
-sought to get into his garments, and find his shoes from the melée of
-blankets and other articles in the berth, all the time keeping one eye
-out of the window, for he must not let his prey get away from him now.
-He must watch and see what they were going to do. How fortunate that he
-had wakened in time for that. At least he would have a clue. Where was
-this? A station?
-
-He stopped operations once more to gaze off at the landscape, a
-desolate country scene to his city hardened eyes. Not a house in sight,
-nor a station. The spires of the distant village seemed like a mirage
-to him. This couldn’t be a station. What were those two doing down
-there anyway? Dared he risk calling the conductor and having him hold
-them? No, this affair must be kept absolutely quiet. Mr. Holman had
-said that if a breath of the matter came out it was worse than death
-for all concerned. He must just get off this train as fast as he could
-and follow them if they were getting away. It might be he could get the
-man in a lonely place--it would be easy enough to watch his chance
-and gag the lady--he had done such things before. He felt far more
-at home in such an affair than he had the night before at the Holman
-dinner-table. What a pity one of the others had not come along. It
-would be mere child’s play for two to handle those two who looked as
-if they would turn frightened at the first threat. However, he felt
-confident that he could manage the affair alone.
-
-He panted with haste and succeeded in getting the wrong legs into
-his trousers and having to begin all over again, his efforts greatly
-hampered by the necessity for watching out the window.
-
-Then came the distant rumble of an oncoming train, and an answering
-scream from his own engine. The two on the ground had crossed quickly
-over the second track and were looking down the steep embankment.
-Were they going down there? What fate that he was not ready to follow
-them at once! The train that was coming would pass--their own would
-start--and he could not get out. His opportunity was going from him and
-he could not find his shoes!
-
-Well what of it? He would go without! What were shoes in a time like
-this? Surely he could get along barefoot, and beg a pair at some
-farmhouse, or buy a pair at a country store. He must get out at any
-cost, shoes or no shoes. Grasping his coat which contained his money
-and valuables he sprang from his berth straight into the arms of the
-porter who was hurrying back to his car after having been out to gossip
-with a brakeman over the delay.
-
-“What’s de mattah, sah?” asked the astonished porter, rallying quickly
-from the shock and assuming his habitual courtesy.
-
-“My shoes!” roared the irate traveller. “What have you done with my
-shoes?”
-
-“Quiet, sah, please sah, you’ll wake de whole cyah,” said the porter.
-“I put yoh shoes under de berth sah, right whar I allus puts ’em aftah
-blackin’ sah.”
-
-The porter stooped and extracted the shoes from beneath the curtain and
-the traveller, whose experience in Pullmans was small, grabbed them
-furiously and made for the door, shoes in hand, for with a snort and a
-lurch and a preliminary jar the train had taken up its motion, and a
-loud rushing outside proclaimed that the other train was passing.
-
-The porter, feeling that he had been treated with injustice, stood
-gazing reproachfully after the man for a full minute before he followed
-him to tell him that the wash-room was at the other end of the car and
-not down past the drawing-room as he evidently supposed.
-
-He found his man standing in stocking feet on the cold iron platform,
-his head out of the opening left in the vestibuled train, for when the
-porter came in he had drawn shut the outer door and slammed down the
-movable platform, making it impossible for anyone to get out. There was
-only the little opening the size of a window above the grating guard,
-and the man clung to it as if he would jump over it if he only dared.
-He was looking back over the track and his face was not good to see.
-
-He turned wildly upon the porter.
-
-“I want you to stop this train and let me off,” he shouted. “I’ve lost
-something valuable back there on the track. Stop the train quick, I
-tell you, or I’ll sue the railroad.”
-
-“What was it you lost?” asked the porter respectfully. He wasn’t sure
-but the man was half asleep yet.
-
-“It was a--my--why it was a very valuable paper. It means a fortune to
-me and several other people and I must go back and get it. Stop the
-train, I tell you, at once or I’ll jump out.”
-
-“I can’t stop de train sah, you’ll hev to see de conductah sah, ’bout
-dat. But I specks there’s mighty little prospec’ o’ gettin’ dis train
-stopped foh it gits to its destinashun sah. We’s one hour a’hind time
-now, sah, an’ he’s gotta make up foh we gits to Buff’lo.”
-
-The excited passenger railed and stormed until several sleepers were
-awakened and stuck curious sleepy countenances out from the curtains
-of their berths, but the porter was obdurate, and would not take any
-measures to stop the train, nor even call the conductor until the
-passenger promised to return quietly to his berth.
-
-The thick-set man was not used to obeying but he saw that he was only
-hindering himself and finally hurried back to his berth where he
-hastily parted the curtains, craning his neck to see back along the
-track and over the green valley growing smaller and smaller now in
-the distance. He could just make out two moving specks on the white
-winding ribbon of the road. He felt sure he knew the direction they
-were taking. If he only could get off that train he could easily catch
-them, for they would have no idea he was coming, and would take no
-precautions. If he had only wakened a few seconds sooner he would have
-been following them even now.
-
-Fully ten minutes he argued with the conductor, showing a wide
-incongruity between his language and his gentlemanly attire, but the
-conductor would do nothing but promise to set him down at a water
-tower ten miles ahead where they had to slow up for water. He said sue
-or no sue he had his orders, and the thick-set man did not inspire him
-either to sympathy or confidence. The conductor had been many years on
-the road and generally knew when to stop his train and when to let it
-go on.
-
-Sullenly the thick-set man accepted the conductor’s decision and
-prepared to leave the train at the water tower, his eye out for the
-landmarks along the way as he completed his hasty toilet.
-
-He was in no pleasant frame of mind, having missed a goodly amount of
-his accustomed stimulants the night before, and seeing little prospect
-of either stimulants or breakfast before him. He was not built for a
-ten-mile walk over the cinders and his flabby muscles already ached at
-the prospect. But then, of course he would not have to go far before
-he found an automobile or some kind of conveyance to help him on his
-way. He looked eagerly from the window for indications of garages or
-stables, but the river wound its silver way among the gray green willow
-fringes, and the new grass shone a placid emerald plain with nothing
-more human than a few cows grazing here and there. Not even a horse
-that might be borrowed without his owner’s knowledge. It was a strange,
-forsaken spot, ten whole miles and no sign of any public livery! Off
-to the right and left he could see villages, but they were most of them
-too far away from the track to help him any. It began to look as if
-he must just foot it all the way. Now and then a small shanty or tiny
-dwelling whizzed by near at hand, but nothing that would relieve his
-situation.
-
-It occurred to him to go into the dining-car for breakfast, but even as
-he thought of it the conductor told him that the train would stop in
-two minutes and he must be ready to get off, for they did not stop long.
-
-He certainly looked a harmless creature, that thick-set man as he stood
-alone upon the cinder elevation and surveyed the landscape o’er. Ten
-miles from his quarry, alone on a stretch of endless ties and rails
-with a gleaming river mocking him down in the valley, and a laughing
-sky jeering overhead. He started down the shining track his temper a
-wreck, his mind in chaos, his soul at war with the world. The worst
-of it all was that the whole fault was his own for going to sleep. He
-began to fear that he had lost his chance. Then he set his ugly jaw and
-strode ahead.
-
-The morning sun poured down upon the thick-set man on his pilgrimage,
-and waxed hotter until noon. Trains whizzed mercilessly by and gave him
-no succor. Weary, faint, and fiercely thirsty he came at last to the
-spot where he was satisfied his quarry had escaped. He could see the
-marks of their rough descent in the steep cinder bank, and assaying the
-same himself came upon a shred of purple silk caught on a bramble at
-the foot.
-
-Puffing and panting, bruised and foot-sore, he sat down at the very
-place where Celia had stopped to have her shoes fastened, and mopped
-his purple brow, but there was triumph in his ugly eye, and after a few
-moment’s rest he trudged onward. That town over there ought to yield
-both conveyance and food as well as information concerning those he
-sought. He would catch them. They could never get away from him. He was
-on their track again, though hours behind. He would get them yet and no
-man should take his reward from him.
-
-Almost spent he came at last to the village, and ate a surprisingly
-large dish of beef and vegetable stew at the quaint little house where
-Celia and Gordon had breakfasted, but the old lady who served it to
-them was shy about talking, and though admitting that a couple of
-people had been there that morning she was non-committal about their
-appearance. They might have been young and good-looking and worn
-feathers in their hats, and they might not. She wasn’t one for noticing
-people’s appearance if they treated her civilly and paid their bills.
-Would he have another cup of coffee? He would, and also two more
-pieces of pie, but he got very little further information.
-
-It was over at the corner store where he finally went in search
-of something stronger than coffee that he further pursued his
-investigations.
-
-The loungers were still there. It was their only business in life
-and they were most diligent in it. They eyed the newcomer with a
-relish and settled back on their various barrels and boxes to enjoy
-whatever entertainment the gods were about to provide to relieve their
-monotonous existence.
-
-A house divided against itself cannot stand. This man’s elegant
-garments assumed for the nonce did not fit the rest of his general
-appearance which had been accentuated by his long, hot, dusty tramp.
-The high evening hat was jammed on the back of his head and bore a
-decided dent where it had rolled down the cinder embankment, his collar
-was wilted and lifeless, his white laundered tie at half mast, his coat
-awry, and his fine patent leather shoes which pinched were covered
-with dust and had caused a limp like the hardest tramp upon the road.
-Moreover, again the speech of the man betrayed him, and the keen-minded
-old gossips who were watching him suspiciously sized him up at once the
-minute he opened his mouth.
-
-“Saw anything of a couple of young folks walking down this way?”
-he enquired casually, pausing to light a cigar with which he was
-reinforcing himself for further travel.
-
-One man allowed that there might have passed such people that day. He
-hardly seemed willing to commit himself, but another vouchsafed the
-information that “Joe here driv two parties of thet description to
-Milton this mornin’--jes’ got back. Mebbe he could answer fer ’em.”
-
-Joe frowned. He did not like the looks of the thick-set man. He still
-remembered the forget-me-not eyes.
-
-But the stranger made instant request to be driven to Milton, offering
-ten dollars for the same when he found that his driver was reluctant,
-and that Milton was a railroad centre. A few keen questions had made
-him sure that his man had gone to Milton.
-
-Joe haggled, allowed his horse was tired, and he didn’t care about the
-trip twice in one day, but finally agreed to take the man for fifteen
-dollars, and sauntered off to get a fresh horse. He had no mind to be
-in a hurry. He had his own opinion about letting those two “parties”
-get out of the way before the third put in an appearance, but he had
-no mind to lose the fifteen dollars. It would help to buy the ring he
-coveted for his girl.
-
-In due time Joe rode leisurely up and the impatient traveller climbed
-into the high spring wagon and was driven away from the apathetic gaze
-of the country loungers, who unblinkingly took in the fact that Joe
-was headed toward Ashville, and evidently intended taking his fare to
-Milton by way of that village, a thirty-mile drive at least. The man
-would get the worth of his money in ride. A grim twinkle sat in their
-several eyes as the spring wagon turned the curve in the road and was
-lost to sight, and after due silence an old stager spoke:
-
-“Do you reckon that there was their sho-fur?” he requested languidly.
-
-“Naw!” replied a farmer’s son vigorously. “He wouldn’t try to showf all
-dolled up like that. He’s the rich dad comin’ after the runaways. Joe
-don’t intend he shell get ’em yet awhile. I reckon the ceremony’ll be
-over ’fore he steps in to interfere.” This lad went twice a month to
-Milton to the “movies” and was regarded as an authority on matters of
-romance. A pause showed that his theory had taken root in the minds of
-his auditors.
-
-“Wal, I reckon Joe thinks the longest way round is the shortest way
-home,” declared the old stager. “Joe never did like them cod-fish
-swells--but how do you ’count fer the style o’ that gal? She wan’t
-like her dad one little bit.”
-
-“Oh, she’s ben to collidge I ’spose,” declared the youth. “They get all
-that off’n collidge.”
-
-“Serves the old man right fer sendin’ his gal to a fool collidge when
-she ought to a ben home learnin’ to house-keep. I hope she gits off
-with her young man all right,” said a grim old lounger, and a cackle
-of laughter went round the group, which presently broke up, for this
-had been a strenuous day and all felt their need of rest; besides they
-wanted to get home and tell the news before some neighbor got ahead of
-them.
-
-All this time Celia and Gordon were touring Milton, serenely
-unconscious of danger near, or guardian angel of the name of Joe.
-
-Investigation disclosed the fact that there was a train for Pittsburgh
-about three in the afternoon. Gordon sent a code telegram to his chief,
-assuring him of the safety of the message, and of his own intention
-to proceed to Washington as fast as steam could carry him. Then he
-took the girl to a restaurant, where they mounted two high stools, and
-partook with an unusually ravenous appetite of nearly everything on the
-menu--corn soup, roast beef, baked trout, stewed tomatoes, cold slaw,
-custard, apple, and mince pies, with a cup of good country coffee and
-real cream--all for twenty-five cents apiece.
-
-It was a very merry meal. Celia felt somehow as if for the time all
-memory of the past had been taken from her, and she were free to think
-and act happily in the present, without any great problems to solve or
-decisions to make. Just two young people off having a good time, they
-were, at least until that afternoon train came.
-
-After their dinner, they took a short walk to a tiny park where two
-white ducks disported themselves on a seven-by-nine pond, spanned by a
-rustic bridge where lovers had cut their initials. Gordon took out his
-knife and idly cut C. H. in the rough bark of the upper rail, while
-his companion sat on the little board seat and watched him. She was
-pondering over the fact that he had cut her initials, and not his own.
-It would have been like the George of old to cut his own and never once
-think of hers. And he had put but one H. Probably he thought of her now
-as Celia Hayne, without the Hathaway, or else he was so used to writing
-her name Celia Hathaway, that he was not thinking at all.
-
-Those letters! How they haunted her and clouded every bright experience
-that she fain would have grasped and held for a little hour.
-
-They were silent now, while he worked and she thought. He had finished
-the C. H., and was cutting another C, but instead of making another
-H, he carefully carved out the letter G. What was that for? C. G.?
-Who was C. G.? Oh, how stupid! George, of course. He had started a C
-by mistake. But he did not add the expected H. Instead he snapped his
-knife shut, laid his hand over the carving, and leaned over the rail.
-
-“Some time, perhaps, we’ll come here again, and remember,” he said,
-and then bethought him that he had no right to hope for any such
-anniversary.
-
-“Oh!” She looked up into his eyes, startled, troubled, the haunting of
-her fears in the shadows of the blue.
-
-He looked down into them and read her trouble, read and understood, and
-looked back his great desire to comfort her.
-
-His look carried further than he meant it should. For the third time
-that day a thrill of wonder and delight passed over her and left her
-fearful with a strange joy that she felt she should put from her.
-
-It was only an instant, that look, but it brought the bright color to
-both faces, and made Gordon feel the immediate necessity of changing
-the subject.
-
-“See those little fishes down there,” he said pointing to the tiny lake
-below them.
-
-Through a blur of tears, the girl looked down and saw the tiny,
-sharp-finned creatures darting here and there in a beam of sun like a
-small search-light set to show them off.
-
-She moved her hand on the rail to lean further over, and her soft
-fingers touched his hand for a moment. She would not draw them away
-quickly, lest she hurt him; why, she did not know, but she could
-not--would not--hurt him. Not now! The two hands lay side by side for
-a full minute, and the touch to Gordon was as if a roseleaf had kissed
-his soul. He had never felt anything sweeter. He longed to gather the
-little hand into his clasp and feel its pulses trembling there as he
-had felt it in the church the night before, but she was not his. He
-might not touch her till she had her choice of what to do, and she
-would never choose him, never, when she knew how he had deceived her.
-
-That one supreme moment they had of perfect consciousness,
-consciousness of the drawing of soul to soul, of the sweetness of that
-hovering touch of hands, of the longing to know and understand each
-other.
-
-Then a sharp whistle sounded, and a farmer’s boy with a new rake and a
-sack of corn on his shoulder came sauntering briskly down the road to
-the bridge. Instantly they drew apart, and Celia felt that she had been
-on the verge of disloyalty to her true self.
-
-They walked silently back to the station, each busy with his own
-thoughts, each conscious of that one moment when the other had come so
-near.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-
-There were a lot of people at the station. They had been to a family
-gathering of some sort from their remarks, and they talked loudly and
-much, so that the two stood apart--for the seats were all occupied--and
-had no opportunity for conversation, save a quiet smiling comment now
-and then upon the chatter about them, or the odd remarks they heard.
-
-There had come a constraint upon them, a withdrawing of each into his
-shell, each conscious of something that separated. Gordon struggled to
-prevent it, but he seemed helpless. Celia would smile in answer to his
-quiet remarks, but it was a smile of distance, such as she had worn
-early in the morning. She had quite found her former standing ground,
-with its fence of prejudice, and she was repairing the breaks through
-which she had gone over to the enemy during the day. She was bracing
-herself with dire reminders, and snatches from those terrible letters
-which were written in characters of fire in her heart. Never, never,
-could she care for a man who had done what this man had done. She had
-forgotten for a little while those terrible things he had said of her
-dear dead father. How could she have forgotten for an instant! How
-could she have let her hand lie close to the hand that had defiled
-itself by writing such things!
-
-By the time they were seated in the train, she was freezing in her
-attitude, and poor Gordon sat miserably beside her and tried to think
-what he had done to offend her. It was not his fault that her hand
-had lain near his on the rail. She had put it there herself. Perhaps
-she expected him to put his over it, to show her that he cared as a
-bridegroom should care--as he did care, in reality, if he only had the
-right. And perhaps she was hurt that he had stood coolly and said or
-done nothing. But he could not help it.
-
-Much to Gordon’s relief, the train carried a parlor-car, and it
-happened on this particular day to be almost deserted save for a deaf
-old man with a florid complexion and a gold knobbed cane who slumbered
-audibly at the further end from the two chairs Gordon selected. He
-established his companion comfortably, disposed of the baggage, and
-sat down, but the girl paid no heed to him. With a sad, set face,
-she stared out of the window, her eyes seeming to see nothing. For
-two hours she sat so, he making remarks occasionally, to which she
-made little or no reply, until he lapsed into silence, looking at her
-with troubled eyes. Finally, just as they neared the outskirts of
-Pittsburgh, he leaned softly forward and touched her coat-sleeve, to
-attract her attention.
-
-“Have I offended--hurt--you in any way?” he asked gently. She turned
-toward him, and her eyes were brimming full of tears.
-
-“No,” she said, and her lips were trembling. “No, you have
-been--most--kind--but--but I cannot forget _those letters_!” She ended
-with a sob and put up her handkerchief quickly to stifle it.
-
-“Letters?” he asked helplessly. “What letters?”
-
-“The letters you wrote me. All the letters of the last five months. I
-cannot forget them. I can _never_ forget them! How could you _think_ I
-could?”
-
-He looked at her anxiously, not knowing what to say, and yet he must
-say something. The time had come when some kind of an understanding,
-some clearing up of facts, must take place. He must go cautiously, but
-he must find out what was the matter. He could not see her suffer so.
-There must be some way to let her know that so far as he was concerned
-she need suffer nothing further and that he would do all in his power
-to set her right with her world.
-
-But letters! He had written no letters. His face lighted up with the
-swift certainty of one thing about which he had not dared to be sure.
-She still thought him the man she had intended to marry. She was not
-therefore troubled about that phase of the question. It was strange,
-almost unbelievable, but it was true that he personally was not
-responsible for the trouble in her eyes. What trouble she might feel
-when she knew all, he had yet to find out, but it was a great relief to
-be sure of so much. Still, something must be said.
-
-“Letters!” he repeated again stupidly, and then added with perplexed
-tone: “Would you mind telling me just what it was in the letters that
-hurt you?”
-
-She turned eyes of astonishment on him.
-
-“How can you ask?” she said almost bitterly. “You surely must know how
-terrible they were to me! You could not be the man you have seemed to
-be to-day if you did not know what you were doing to me in making all
-those terrible threats. You must know how cruel they were.”
-
-“I am afraid I don’t understand,” he said earnestly, the trouble
-still most apparent in his eyes, “Would you mind being a little more
-explicit? Would you mind telling me exactly what you think I wrote you
-that sounded like a threat?”
-
-He asked the question half hesitatingly, because he was not quite sure
-whether he was justified in thus obtaining private information under
-false pretenses, and yet he felt that he must know just what troubled
-her or he could never help her; and he was sure that if she knew he was
-an utter stranger, even a kindly one, those gentle lips would never
-open to inform him upon her torturer. As it was she could tell him her
-trouble with a perfectly clear conscience, thinking she was telling it
-to the man who knew all about it. But his hesitation about prying into
-an utter stranger’s private affairs even with a good motive, gave him
-an air of troubled dignity, and real anxiety to know his fault that
-puzzled the girl more than all that had gone before.
-
-“I cannot understand how you can ask such a question, since it has been
-the constant subject of discussion in all our letters!” she replied,
-sitting up with asperity and drying her tears. She was on the verge of
-growing angry with him for his petty, wilful misunderstanding of words
-whose meaning she felt he must know well.
-
-“I do ask it,” he said quietly, “and, believe me, I have a good motive
-in doing so.”
-
-She looked at him in surprise. It was impossible to be angry with those
-kindly eyes, even though he did persist in a wilful stupidity.
-
-“Well, then, since you wish it stated once more I will tell you,” she
-declared, the tears welling again into her eyes. “You first demanded
-that I marry you--demanded--without any pretense whatever of caring
-for me--with a hidden threat in your demand that if I did not, you
-would bring some dire calamity upon me by means that were already in
-your power. You took me for the same foolish little girl whom you had
-delighted to tease for years before you went abroad to live. And when
-I refused you, you told me that you could not only take away from my
-mother all the property which she had inherited from her brother, by
-means of a will made just before my uncle’s death, and unknown except
-to his lawyer and you; but that you could and would blacken my dear
-dead father’s name and honor, and show that every cent that belonged to
-Mother and Jefferson and myself was stolen property. When I challenged
-you to prove any such thing against my honored father, you went still
-further and threatened to bring out a terrible story and prove it with
-witnesses who would swear to anything you said. You knew my father’s
-white life, you as much as owned your charges were false, and yet you
-dared to send me a letter from a vile creature who pretended that she
-was his first wife, and who said she could prove that he had spent much
-of his time in her company. You knew the whole thing was a falsehood,
-but you dared to threaten to make this known through the newspapers
-if I did not marry you. You realized that I knew that, even though few
-people and no friends would believe such a thing of my father, such a
-report in the papers--false though it was--would crush my mother to
-death. You knew that I would give my life to save her, and so you had
-me in your power, as you have me now. You have always wanted me in your
-power, just because you love to torture, and now you have me. But you
-cannot make me forget what you have done. I have given my life but I
-cannot give any more. If it is not sufficient you will have to do your
-worst.”
-
-She dropped her face into the little wet handkerchief, and Gordon
-sat with white, drawn countenance and clenched hands. He was fairly
-trembling with indignation toward the villain who had thus dared impose
-upon this delicate flower of womanhood. He longed to search the world
-over for the false bridegroom; and, finding, give him his just dues.
-
-And what should he do or say? Dared he tell her at once who he was and
-trust to her kind heart to forgive his terrible blunder and keep his
-secret till the message was safely delivered? Dared he? Had he any
-right? No, the secret was not his to divulge either for his own benefit
-or for any other’s. He must keep that to himself. But he must help her
-in some way.
-
-At last he began to speak, scarcely knowing what he was about to say:
-
-“It is terrible, _terrible_, what you have told me. To have written
-such things to one like you--in fact, to anyone on earth--seems to me
-unforgivable. It is the most inhuman cruelty I have ever heard of. You
-are fully justified in hating and despising the man who wrote such
-words to you.”
-
-“Then, why did you write them?” she burst forth. “And how can you sit
-there calmly and talk that way about it, as if you had nothing to do
-with the matter?”
-
-“Because I never wrote those letters,” he said, looking her steadily,
-earnestly, in the eyes.
-
-“You never wrote them!” she exclaimed excitedly. “You dare to deny it?”
-
-“I dare to deny it.” His voice was quiet, earnest, convincing.
-
-She looked at him, dazed, bewildered, indignant, sorrowful. “But you
-cannot deny it,” she said, her fragile frame trembling with excitement.
-“I have the letters all in my suit-case. You cannot deny your own
-handwriting. I have the last awful one--the one in which you threatened
-Father’s good name--here in my hand-bag. I dared not put it with the
-rest, and I had no opportunity to destroy it before leaving home. I
-felt as if I must always keep it with me, lest otherwise its awful
-secret would somehow get out. There it is. Read it and see your own
-name signed to the words you say you did not write!”
-
-While she talked, her trembling fingers had taken a folded, crumpled
-letter from her little hand-bag, and this she reached over and laid
-upon the arm of his chair.
-
-“Read it,” she said. “Read it and see that you cannot deny it.”
-
-“I should rather not read it,” he said. “I do not need to read it to
-deny that I ever wrote such things to you.”
-
-“But I insist that you read it,” said the girl.
-
-“If you insist I will read it,” he said, taking the letter reluctantly
-and opening it.
-
-She sat watching him furtively through the tears while he read, saw
-the angry flush steal into his cheeks as the villainy of a fellow man
-was revealed to him through the brief, coarse, cruel epistle, and she
-mistook the flush for one of shame.
-
-Then his true brown eyes looked up and met her tearful gaze steadily, a
-fine anger burning in them.
-
-“And you think I wrote that!” he said, a something in his voice she
-could not understand.
-
-“What else could I think? It bears your signature,” she answered coldly.
-
-“The letter is vile,” he said, “and the man who wrote it is a
-blackguard, and deserves the utmost that the law allows for such
-offences. With your permission, I shall make it my business to see that
-he gets it.”
-
-“What do you mean?” she said, wide-eyed. “How could you punish
-yourself? You cannot still deny that you wrote the letter.”
-
-“I still deny that I wrote it, or ever saw it until you handed it to me
-just now.”
-
-The girl looked at him, nonplussed, more than half convinced, in spite
-of reason.
-
-“But isn’t that your handwriting?”
-
-“It is not. Look!”
-
-He took out his fountain pen, and, holding the letter on the arm of her
-chair, he wrote rapidly in his natural hand her own name and address
-beneath the address on the envelope, then held it up to her.
-
-“Do they look alike?”
-
-The two writings were as utterly unlike as possible, the letter being
-addressed in an almost unreadable scrawl, and the fresh writing
-standing fine and clear, in a script that spoke of character and
-business ability. Even a child could see at a glance that the two were
-not written by the same hand--and yet of course, it might have been
-practised for the purpose of deception. This thought flashed through
-the minds of both even as he held it out for her to look.
-
-She looked from the envelope to his eyes and back to the letter,
-startled, not knowing what to think.
-
-But before either of them had time for another word the conductor, the
-porter, and several people from the car behind came hurriedly through,
-and they realized that while they talked the train had come to a halt,
-amid the blazing electric lights of a great city station.
-
-“Why,” said Gordon, startled, “we must have reached Pittsburgh. Is this
-Pittsburgh?” he called out to the vanishing porter.
-
-“Yas sah!” yelled the porter, putting his head around the curve of the
-passageway. “You bettah hurry sah, foh dis train goes on to Cincinnati
-pretty quick. We’s late gittin’ in you see.”
-
-Neither of them had noticed a man in rough clothes with slouch hat and
-hands in his pockets who had boarded the train a few miles back and
-walked through the car several times eyeing them keenly. He stuck his
-head in at the door now furtively and drew back quickly again out of
-sight.
-
-Gordon hurriedly gathered up the baggage, and they went out of the car,
-the porter rushing back as they reached the door, to assist them and
-get a last tip. There was no opportunity to say anything more, as they
-mingled with the crowd, until the porter landed their baggage in the
-great station and hurried back to his train. The man with the slouch
-hat followed and stood unobtrusively behind them.
-
-Gordon looked down at the white, drawn face of the girl, and his heart
-was touched with compassion for her trouble. He must make her some
-satisfactory explanation at once that would set her heart at rest, but
-he could not do it here, for every seat about them was filled with
-noisy chattering folk. He stooped and whispered low and tenderly:
-
-“Don’t worry, little girl! Just try to trust me, and I will explain it
-all.”
-
-“Can you explain it?” she asked anxiously, as if catching at a rope
-thrown out to save her life.
-
-“Perfectly,” he said, “if you will be patient and trust me. But we
-cannot talk here. Just wait in this seat until I see if I can get the
-stateroom on the sleeper.”
-
-He left her with his courteous bow, and she sat watching his tall, fine
-figure as he threaded his way among the crowds to the Pullman window,
-her heart filled with mingling emotions. In spite of her reason, a tiny
-bit of hope for the future was springing up in her heart and without
-her own will she found herself inclined to trust him. At least it was
-all she could do at present.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-
-Back at Milton an hour before, when the shades of dusk were falling and
-a slender moon hung timidly on the edge of the horizon, a horse drawing
-a spring wagon ambled deliberately into town and came to a reluctant
-halt beside the railroad station, having made a wide détour through the
-larger part of the county on the way to that metropolis.
-
-The sun had been hot, the road much of it rough, and the jolts over
-stones and bumps had not added to the comfort of the thick-set man,
-already bruised and weary from his travels. Joe’s conversation had not
-ceased. He had given his guest a wide range of topics, discoursing
-learnedly on the buckwheat crop and the blight that might be expected
-to assail the cherry trees. He pointed out certain portions of land
-infested with rattlesnakes, and told blood-curdling stories of
-experiences with stray bears and wild cats in a maple grove through
-which they passed till the passenger looked furtively behind him and
-urged the driver to hurry a little faster.
-
-Joe, seeing his gullibility, only made his stories of country life the
-bigger, for the thick-set man, though bold as a lion in his own city
-haunts, was a coward in the unknown world of the country.
-
-When the traveler looking at his watch urged Joe to make haste and
-asked how many miles further Milton was, Joe managed it that the horse
-should stumble on a particularly stony bit of road. Then getting down
-gravely from the wagon he examined the horse’s feet each in turn,
-shaking his head sadly over the left fore foot.
-
-“Jes’ ’z I ’sposed,” he meditated dreamily. “Stone bruise! Lame horse!
-Don’t believe I ought to go on. Sorry, but it’ll be the ruination of
-the horse. You ain’t in a hurry I hope.”
-
-The passenger in great excitement promised to double the fare if the
-young man would get another horse and hurry him forward, and after
-great professions of doubt Joe gave in and said he would try the horse,
-but it wouldn’t do to work him hard. They would have to let him take
-his time. He couldn’t on any account leave the horse behind anywhere
-and get a fresh one because it belonged to his best friend and he
-promised to bring it back safe and sound. They would just take their
-time and go slow and see if the horse could stand it. He wouldn’t think
-of trying it if it weren’t for the extra money which he needed.
-
-So the impatient traveler was dragged fuming along weary hour after
-weary hour through the monotonous glory of a spring afternoon of
-which he saw nothing but the dust of the road as he tried to count
-the endless miles. Every mile or two Joe would descend from the wagon
-seat and fuss around the horse’s leg, the horse nothing loth at such
-unprecedented attention dozing cozily by the roadside during the
-process. And so was the traveler brought to his destination ten minutes
-after the last train that stopped at Milton that night had passed the
-station.
-
-The telegraph office was not closed however, and without waiting to
-haggle, the passenger paid his thirty dollars for the longest journey
-he ever took, and disappeared into the station, while Joe, whipping up
-his petted animal, and whistling cheerily:
-
- “Where did you get that girl--?”
-
-went rattling down the short cut from Milton home at a surprising pace
-for a lame horse. He was eating his supper at home in a little more
-than an hour, and the horse seemed to have miraculously recovered from
-his stone bruise. Joe was wondering how his girl would look in a hat
-with purple plumes, and thinking of his thirty dollars with a chuckle.
-
-It was surprising how much that thick-set man, weary and desperate
-though he was, could accomplish, when once he reached the telegraph
-station and sent his messages flying on their way. In less than three
-minutes after his arrival he had extracted from the station agent the
-fact that two people, man and woman, answering the description he gave,
-had bought tickets for Pittsburgh and taken the afternoon train for
-that city. The agent had noticed them on account of their looking as
-if they came from the city. He especially noticed the purple plumes,
-the like of which he had never seen before. He had taken every minute
-he could get off from selling tickets and sending telegrams to watch
-the lady through his little cobwebby window. They didn’t wear hats like
-that in Milton.
-
-In ten minutes one message was on its way to a crony in Pittsburgh with
-whom the thick-set man kept in constant touch for just such occasions
-as the present, stirring him to strenuous action; another message had
-winged its mysterious way to Mr. Holman, giving him the main facts
-in the case; while a third message caught another crony thirty miles
-north of Pittsburgh and ordered him to board the evening express at his
-own station, hunt up the parties described, and shadow them to their
-destination, if possible getting in touch with the Pittsburgh crony
-when he reached the city.
-
-The pursuer then ate a ham sandwich with liberal washings of liquid
-fire while he awaited replies to some of his messages; and as soon
-as he was satisfied that he had set justice in motion he hired an
-automobile and hied him across country to catch a midnight express to
-Pittsburgh. He had given orders that his man and accompanying lady
-should be held in Pittsburgh until his arrival, and he had no doubt but
-that the orders would be carried out, so sure was he that he was on the
-right track, and that his cronies would be able and willing to follow
-his orders.
-
-There was some kind of an excursion on at Pittsburgh, and the place was
-crowded. The trainmen kept calling off specials, and crowds hurried out
-of the waiting room, only to be replaced by other crowds, all eager,
-pushing, talking, laughing. They were mostly men, but a good many
-women and some children seemed to be of the number; and the noise and
-excitement worried her after her own exciting afternoon. Celia longed
-to lay her down and sleep, but the seat was narrow, and hard, and
-people were pressing on every side. That disagreeable man in the slouch
-hat would stand too near. He was most repulsive looking, though he did
-not seem to be aware of her presence.
-
-Gordon had a long wait before he finally secured the coveted stateroom
-and started back to her, when suddenly a face that he knew loomed up
-in the crowd and startled him. It was the face of a private detective
-who was well known about Washington, but whose headquarters were in New
-York.
-
-Until that instant, it had not occurred to him to fear watchers so
-far south and west as Pittsburgh. It was not possible that the other
-bridegroom would think to track him here, and, as for the Holman
-contingent, they would not be likely to make a public disturbance about
-his disappearance, lest they be found to have some connection with
-the first theft of government property. They could have watchers only
-through private means, and they must have been wily indeed if they had
-anticipated his move through Pittsburgh to Washington. Still, it was
-the natural move for him to make in order to get home as quickly as
-possible and yet escape them. And this man in the crowd was the very
-one whom they would have been likely to pick out for their work. He was
-as slippery in his dealings as they must be, and no doubt was in league
-with them. He knew the man and his ways thoroughly, and had no mind to
-fall into his hands.
-
-Whether he had been seen by the detective yet or not, he could not
-tell, but he suspected he had, by the way the man stood around and
-avoided recognizing him. There was not an instant to be lost. The fine
-stateroom must go untenanted. He must make a dash for liberty. Liberty!
-Ah, East Liberty! what queer things these brains of ours are! He knew
-Pittsburgh just a little. He remembered having caught a train at East
-Liberty Station once when he had not time to come down to the station
-to take it. Perhaps he might get the same train at East Liberty. It was
-nearly two hours before it left.
-
-Swooping down upon the baggage, he murmured in the girl’s ear:
-
-“Can you hurry a little? We must catch a car right away.”
-
-She followed him closely through the crowd, he stooping as if to
-look down at his suit-case, so that his height might not attract the
-attention of the man whose recognition he feared, and in a moment more
-they were out in the lighted blackness of the streets. One glance
-backward showed his supposed enemy stretching his neck above the
-crowd, as if searching for some one, as he walked hurriedly toward
-the very doorway they had just passed. Behind them shadowed the man
-in the slouch hat, and with a curious motion of his hand signalled
-another like himself, the Pittsburgh crony, who skulked in the darkness
-outside. Instantly this man gave another signal and out of the gloom of
-the street a carriage drew up at the curb before the door, the cabman
-looking eagerly for patronage.
-
-Gordon put both suit-cases in one hand and taking Celia’s arm as gently
-as he could in his haste hurried her toward the carriage. It was the
-very refuge he sought. He placed her inside and gave the order for
-East Liberty Station, drawing a long breath of relief at being safely
-out of the station. He did not see the shabby one who mounted the box
-beside the driver and gave his directions in guttural whispers, nor the
-man with the slouch hat who watched from the doorway and followed them
-to a familiar haunt on the nearest car. He only felt how good it was
-to be by themselves once more where they could talk together without
-interruption.
-
-But conversation was not easy under the circumstances. The noise of
-wagons, trains and cars was so great at the station that they could
-think of nothing but the din, and when they had threaded their way out
-of the tangle and started rattling over the pavement the driver went
-at such a furious pace that they could still only converse by shouting
-and that not at all satisfactorily. It seemed a strange thing that any
-cabman should drive at such a rapid rate within the city limits, but
-as Gordon was anxious to get away from the station and the keen-eyed
-detective as fast as possible he thought nothing of it at first.
-After a shouted word or two they ceased to try to talk, and Gordon,
-half shyly, reached out a reassuring hand and laid it on the girl’s
-shrinking one that lay in her lap. He had not meant to keep it there
-but a second, just to make her understand that all was well, and he
-would soon be able to explain things, but as she did not seem to resent
-it, nor draw her own away, he yielded to the temptation and kept the
-small gloved hand in his.
-
-The carriage rattled on, bumpety-bump, over rough places, around
-corners, tilting now and then sideways, and Celia, half-frightened, was
-forced to cling to her protector to keep from being thrown on the floor
-of the cab.
-
-“Oh, are we running away?” she breathed awesomely into his ear.
-
-“I think not,--dear,” he answered back, the last word inaudible. “The
-driver thinks we are in a hurry but he has no need to go at this
-furious pace. I will tell him.”
-
-He leaned forward and tapped on the glass, but the driver paid no
-attention whatever save perhaps to drive faster. Could it be that he
-had lost control of his horse and could not stop, or hadn’t he heard?
-Gordon tried again, and accompanied the knocking this time with a
-shout, but all to no purpose. The cab rattled steadily on. Gordon
-discovered now that there were two men on the box instead of one, and a
-sudden premonition sent a thrill of alarm through him. What if after
-all the presence of that detective had been a warning, and he unheeding
-had walked into a trap? What a fool he had been to get into a carriage
-where he was at the mercy of the driver. He ought to have stayed in
-open places where kidnapping would be impossible. Now that he had
-thought of it he felt convinced that this was just what the enemy would
-try to do,--kidnap him. The more fruitless he found his efforts to
-make the driver hear him the more he felt convinced that something was
-wrong. He tried to open the door next him and found it stuck. He put
-all his strength forth to turn the catch but it held fast. Then a cold
-sweat stood out upon him and horror filled his mind. His commission
-with its large significance to the country was in imminent jeopardy.
-His own life was in all probability hanging in the balance, but most
-of all he felt the awful peril of the sweet girl by his side. What
-terrible experiences might be hers within the next hour if his brain
-and right arm could not protect her. Instinctively his hand went to
-the pocket where he had kept his revolver ready since ever he had left
-Washington. Danger should not find him utterly unprepared.
-
-He realized, too, that it was entirely possible, that his alarms were
-unfounded; that the driver was really taking them to the East Liberty
-station; that the door merely stuck, and he was needlessly anxious.
-He must keep a steady head and not let his companion see that he was
-nervous. The first thing was to find out if possible where they really
-were, but that was a difficult task. The street over which they rattled
-was utterly dark with the gloom of a smoky city added to the night.
-There were no street lights except at wide intervals, and the buildings
-appeared to be blank walls of darkness, probably great warehouses. The
-way was narrow, and entirely unknown. Gordon could not tell if he had
-ever been there before. He was sure from his knowledge of the stations
-that they had gone much farther than to East Liberty, and the darkness
-and loneliness of the region through which they were passing filled
-him again with a vague alarm. It occurred to him that he might be able
-to get the window sash down and speak to the driver, and he struggled
-with the one on his own side for a while, with little result, for it
-seemed to have been plugged up with wads of paper all around. This fact
-renewed his anxiety. It began to look as if there was intention in
-sealing up that carriage. He leaned over and felt around the sash of
-the opposite door and found the paper wads there also. There certainly
-was intention. Not to alarm Celia he straightened back and went to
-work again at his own window sash cautiously pulling out the paper
-until at last he could let down the glass.
-
-A rush of dank air rewarded his efforts, and the girl drew a breath of
-relief. Gordon never knew how near she had been to fainting at that
-moment. She was sitting perfectly quiet in her corner watching him, her
-fears kept to herself, though her heart was beating wildly. She was
-convinced that the horse was running away.
-
-Gordon leaned his head out of the window, but immediately he caught the
-gleam of a revolver in a hand that hung at the side of the driver’s
-box, pointed downward straight toward his face as if with intention to
-be ready in case of need. The owner of the hand was not looking toward
-him, but was talking in muffled tones to the driver. They evidently had
-not heard the window let down, but were ready for the first sign of an
-attempt on the part of their victims to escape.
-
-Quietly Gordon drew in his head speculating rapidly on the possibility
-of wrenching that revolver out of its owner’s hand. He could do it from
-where he sat, but would it be wise? They were probably locked in a
-trap, and the driver was very likely armed also. What chance would he
-have to save Celia if he brought on a desperate fight at this point? If
-he were alone he might knock that revolver out of the man’s hand and
-spring from the window, taking his chance of getting away, but now he
-had Celia to think of and the case was different. Not for a universe of
-governments could he leave a woman in such desperate straits. She must
-be considered first even ahead of the message. This was life and death.
-
-He wondered at his own coolness as he sat back in the carriage and
-quietly lifted the glass frame back into place. Then he laid a steady
-hand on Celia’s again and stooping close whispered into her ear:
-
-“I am afraid there’s something wrong with our driver. Can you be a
-little brave,--dear?” He did not know he had used the last word this
-time, but it thrilled into the girl’s heart with a sudden accession of
-trust.
-
-“Oh, yes,” she breathed close to his face. “You don’t think he has been
-drinking, do you?”
-
-“Well, perhaps,” said Gordon relieved at the explanation. “But keep
-calm. I think we can get out of this all right. Suppose you change
-seats with me and let me try if that door will open easily. We might
-want to get out in a hurry in case he slows up somewhere pretty soon.”
-
-Celia quietly and swiftly slipped into Gordon’s seat and he applied
-himself with all his strength and ingenuity gently manipulating the
-latch and pressing his shoulder against the door, until at last to
-his joy it gave way reluctantly and he found that it would swing open.
-He had worked carefully, else the sudden giving of the latch would
-have thrown him out of the carriage and given instant alarm to his
-driver. He was so thoroughly convinced by this time that he was being
-kidnapped, perhaps to be murdered, that every sense was on the alert.
-It was his characteristic to be exceedingly cool during a crisis. It
-was the quality that the keen-eyed chief had valued most in him, and
-the final reason why he had been selected for this difficult task in
-place of an older and more experienced man who at times lost his head.
-
-The door to the outside world being open Gordon cautiously took a
-survey of the enemy from that side. There was no gleaming weapon here.
-The man set grimly enough, laying on the whip and muttering curses
-to his bony horse who galloped recklessly on as if partaking of the
-desperate desires of his master. In the distance Gordon could hear the
-rumbling of an oncoming train. The street was still dark and scarcely
-a vehicle or person to be seen. There seemed no help at hand, and no
-opportunity to get out, for they were still rushing at a tremendous
-pace. An attempt to jump now would very likely result in broken limbs,
-which would only leave them in a worse plight than they were. He
-slipped back to his own seat and put Celia next to the free door again.
-She must be where she could get out first if the opportunity presented
-itself. Also, he must manage to throw out the suit-cases if possible on
-account of the letters and valuables they contained.
-
-Instinctively his hand sought Celia’s in the darkness again, and hers
-nestled into it in a frightened way as if his strength gave her comfort.
-
-Then, before they could speak or realize, there came the rushing sound
-of a train almost upon them and the cab came to a halt with a jerk,
-the driver pulling the horse far back on his haunches to stop him.
-The shock almost threw Celia to the floor, but Gordon’s arm about her
-steadied her, and instantly he was on the alert.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-
-Glancing through the window he saw that they were in front of a
-railroad track upon which a long freight train was rushing madly along
-at a giddy pace for a mere freight. The driver had evidently hoped to
-pass this point before the train got there, but had failed. The train
-had an exultant sound as if it knew and had outwitted the driver.
-
-On one side of the street were high buildings and on the other a great
-lumber yard, between which and their carriage there stood a team of
-horses hitched to a covered wagon, from the back of which some boards
-protruded, and this was on the side next to Celia where the door would
-open! Gordon’s heart leaped up with hope and wonder over the miracle
-of their opportunity. The best thing about their situation was that
-their driver had stopped just a little back of the covered wagon, so
-that their door would open to the street directly behind the covered
-wagon. It made it possible for the carriage door to swing wide and for
-them to slip across behind the wagon without getting too near to the
-driver. Nothing could have been better arranged for their escape and
-the clatter of the empty freight cars drowned all sounds.
-
-Without delay Gordon softly unlatched the door and swung it open
-whispering to Celia:
-
-“Go! Quick! Over there by the fence in the shadow. Don’t look around
-nor speak! Quick! I’ll come!”
-
-Trembling in every limb yet with brave starry eyes Celia slipped like
-a wraith from the carriage, stole behind the boards and melted into
-the shadow of the great fence of the lumber yard, her purple plumes
-mere depths of shadow against the smoky planks. Gordon, grasping the
-suit-cases, moved instantly after her, deftly and silently closing
-the carriage door and dropping into the shadows behind the big wagon,
-scarcely able to believe as yet that they had really escaped.
-
-Ten feet back along the sidewalk was a gateway, the posts being tall
-and thick. The gate itself was closed but it hung a few inches inside
-the line of the fence, and into this depression the two stepped softly
-and stood, flattening themselves back against the gate as closely as
-possible, scarcely daring to breathe, while the long freight clattered
-and rambled its way by like a lot of jolly washerwomen running and
-laughing in a line and spatting their tired noisy feet as they went;
-then the vehicles impatiently took up their onward course. Gordon
-saw the driver look down at the window below him and glance back
-hastily over his shoulder, and the man on the other side of the box,
-looked down on his side. The glitter of something in his hand shone
-for an instant in the glare of the signal light over the track. Then
-the horse lurched forward and the cab began its crazy gait over the
-track and up the cobbled street. They had started onward without
-getting down to look in the carriage and see if all were safe with
-their prisoners, and they had not even looked back to see if they had
-escaped. They evidently trusted in the means they had used to lock
-the carriage doors, and had heard no sounds of their escaping. It was
-incredible, but it was true. Gordon drew a long breath of relief and
-relaxed from his strained position. The next thing was to get out of
-that neighborhood as swiftly as possible before those men had time to
-discover that their birds had flown. They would of course know at once
-where their departure had taken place and come back swiftly to search
-for them, with perhaps more men to help; and a second time escape would
-be impossible.
-
-Gordon snatched up the suit-cases with one hand, and with the other
-drew Celia’s arm within his.
-
-“Now, we must hurry with all our might,” he said softly. “Are you all
-right?”
-
-“Yes.” Her breath was coming in a sob, but her eyes were shining
-bravely.
-
-“Poor child!” his voice was very tender. “Were you much frightened?”
-
-“A little,” she answered more bravely now.
-
-“I shall have hard work to forgive myself for all this,” he said
-tenderly. “But we mustn’t talk. We have to get out of this quickly or
-they may come back after us. Lean on me and walk as fast as you can.”
-
-Celia bent her efforts to take long springing strides, and together
-they fairly skimmed the pavements, turning first this corner, then
-that, in the general direction from which Gordon thought they had
-come, until at last, three blocks away they caught the welcome whirr
-of a trolley, and breathless, flew onward, just catching a car. They
-cared not where it went so that they were safe in a bright light with
-other people. No diamonds on any gentleman’s neckscarf ever shone to
-Celia’s eyes with so friendly a welcome as the dull brass buttons on
-that trolley conductor’s coat as he rang up their fares and answered
-Gordon’s questions about how to get to East Liberty station; and their
-pleasant homely gleam almost were her undoing, for now that they were
-safe at last the tears would come to her eyes.
-
-Gordon watched her lovingly, tenderly, glad that she did not know how
-terrible had been her danger. His heart was still beating wildly
-with the thought of their marvellous escape, and his own present
-responsibility. He must run no further risks. They would keep to
-crowded trolleys, and trust to hiding in the open. The main thing was
-to get out of the city on the first train they could manage to board.
-
-When they reached East Liberty station a long train was just coming in,
-all sleepers, and they could hear the echo of a stentorian voice:
-
-“Special for Harrisburg, Baltimore and Washington! All aboard!” and
-up at the further end of the platform Gordon saw the lank form of
-the detective whom he had tried to avoid an hour before at the other
-station.
-
-Without taking time for thought he hurried Celia forward and they
-sprang breathlessly aboard. Not until they were fairly in the cars and
-the wheels moving under them did it occur to him that his companion had
-had nothing to eat since about twelve o’clock. She must be famished,
-and in a fair way to be ill again. What a fool he was not to have
-thought! They could have stopped in some obscure restaurant along the
-way as well as not, and taken a later train, and yet it was safer to
-get away at once. Without doubt there were watchers at East Liberty,
-too, and he was lucky to have got on the train without a challenge. He
-was sure that detective’s face lighted strangely as he looked his way.
-Perhaps there was a buffet attached to the train. At least, he would
-investigate. If there wasn’t, they must get off at the next stop--there
-must be another stop surely somewhere near the city--he could not
-remember, but there surely must be.
-
-They had to wait some time to get the attention of the conductor. He
-was having much trouble with some disgruntled passengers who each
-claimed to have the same berth. Gordon finally got his ear, and showing
-his stateroom tickets inquired if they could be used on this train.
-
-“No,” growled the worried conductor. “You’re on the wrong train. This
-is a special, and every berth in the train is taken now but one upper.”
-
-“Then, we’ll have to get off at the next stop, I suppose, and take the
-other train,” said Gordon dismally.
-
-“There isn’t any other stop till somewhere in the middle of the night.
-I tell you this is a special, and we’re scheduled to go straight
-through. East Liberty’s the last stop.”
-
-“Then what shall we do?” asked Gordon inanely.
-
-“I’m sure I don’t know,” snapped the conductor. “I’ve enough to do
-without mending other people’s mistakes. Stay aboard, I suppose,
-unless you want to jump off and commit suicide.”
-
-“But I have a lady with me who isn’t at all well,” said Gordon, with
-dignity.
-
-“So much the worse for the lady,” replied the conductor inhumanly.
-“There’s one upper berth, I told you.”
-
-“An upper berth wouldn’t do for her,” said Gordon decidedly. “She isn’t
-well, I tell you.”
-
-“Suit yourself!” snapped the harassed official. “I reckon it’s better
-than nothing. You may not have it long. I’m likely to be asked for it
-the next half minute.”
-
-“Is that so? And is there absolutely nothing else?”
-
-“Young man, I can’t waste words on you. I haven’t time. Take it or let
-it alone. It’s all one to me. There’s some standing room left in the
-day-coach, perhaps.”
-
-“I’ll take it,” said Gordon meekly, wishing he could go back and undo
-the last half-hour. How in the world was he to go and tell Celia that
-he could provide her nothing better than an upper berth?
-
-She was sitting with her back to him, her face resting wearily on her
-hand against the window. Two men with largely checked suits, big seal
-rings, and diamond scarf-pins sat in the opposite seat. He knew it
-was most unpleasant for her. A nondescript woman with a very large hat
-and thick powder on her face shared Celia’s seat. He reflected that
-“specials” did not always bear a select company.
-
-“Is there nothing you can do?” he pleaded with the conductor, as he
-took the bit of pasteboard entitling him to the last vacant berth.
-“Don’t you suppose you could get some man to change and give her a
-lower berth? It’ll be very hard for her. She isn’t used to upper
-berths.”
-
-His eyes rested wistfully on the bowed head. Celia had taken off her
-plumed hat, and the fitful light of the car played with the gold of her
-hair. The conductor’s grim eye softened as he looked.
-
-“That the lady? I’ll see what I can do,” he said briefly, and stumped
-off to the next car. The miracle of her presence had worked its change
-upon him.
-
-Gordon went over to Celia and told her in a low tone that he hoped to
-have arrangements made for her soon, so that she could be comfortable.
-She must be fearfully tired with the excitement and fright and hurry.
-He added that he had made a great blunder in getting on this train,
-and now there was no chance to get off for several hours, perhaps, and
-probably no supper to be had.
-
-“Oh, it doesn’t matter in the least,” said Celia wearily. “I’m not at
-all hungry.” She almost smiled when she said it. He knew that what she
-wanted was to have her mind relieved about the letters. But she readily
-saw that there was no opportunity now.
-
-She even seemed sorry at his troubled look, and tried to smile again
-through the settled sadness in her eyes. He could see she was very
-weary, and he felt like a great brute in care of a child, and mentally
-berated himself for his own thoughtlessness.
-
-Gordon started off to search for something to eat for her, and was
-more successful than he had dared hope. The newsboy had two chicken
-sandwiches left, and these, with the addition of a fine orange, a box
-of chocolates, and a glass of ice-water, he presently brought to her,
-and was rewarded by a smile this time, almost as warm and intimate as
-those she had given him during their beautiful day.
-
-But he could not sit beside her, for the places were all taken, and he
-could not stand in the aisle and talk, for the porter was constantly
-running back and forth making up the berths. There seemed to be a
-congested state of things in the whole train, every seat being full and
-men standing in the aisles. He noticed now that they all wore badges
-of some fraternal order. It was doubtless a delegation to some great
-convention, upon which they had intruded. They were a good-natured,
-noisy, happy crowd, but not anywhere among them was to be found
-a quiet spot where he and Celia could go on with their suddenly
-interrupted conversation. Presently the conductor came to him and said
-he had found a gentleman who would give the lady his lower berth and
-take her upper one. It was already made up, and the lady might take
-possession at once.
-
-Gordon made the exchange of tickets, and immediately escorted Celia to
-it. He found her most glad to go for she was now unutterably weary, and
-was longing to get away from the light and noise about her.
-
-He led the way with the suit-cases, hoping that in the other car there
-would be some spot where they could talk for a few minutes. But he was
-disappointed. It was even fuller than in the first car. He arranged
-everything for her comfort as far as possible, disposed of her hat and
-fixed her suit-case so that she could open it, but even while he was
-doing it there were people crowding by, and no private conversation
-could be had. He stepped back when all was arranged and held the
-curtain aside that she might sit on the edge of her berth. Then
-stooping over he whispered:
-
-“Try to trust me until morning. I’ll explain it all to you then, so
-that you will understand how I have had nothing to do with those
-letters. Forget it, and try to rest. Will you?”
-
-His tone was wistful. He had never wanted to do anything so much in all
-his life as to stoop and kiss those sweet lips, and the lovely eyes
-that looked up at him out of the dusky shadows of the berth, filled
-with fear and longing. They looked more than ever like the blue tired
-flowers that drooped from her gown wearily. But he held himself with a
-firm hand. She was not his to kiss. When she knew how he had deceived
-her, she would probably never give him the right to kiss her.
-
-“I will try,” she murmured in answer to his question, and then added:
-“But where will you be? Is your berth nearby?”
-
-“Not far away--that is, I had to take a place in another car, they are
-so crowded.”
-
-“Oh!” she said a little anxiously. “Are you sure you have a good
-comfortable place?”
-
-“Oh, yes, I shall be all right,” he answered joyously. It was so
-wonderful to have her care whether he was comfortable or not.
-
-The porter was making up the opposite berth, and there was no room to
-stand longer, so he bade her good night, she putting out her hand for a
-farewell. For an instant he held it close, with gentle pressure, as if
-to reassure her, then he went away to the day-coach, and settled down
-into a hard corner at the very back of the car, drawing his travelling
-cap over his eyes, and letting his heart beat out wild joy over that
-little touch of her dear hand. Wave after wave of sweetness went over
-him, thrilling his very soul with a joy he had never known before.
-
-And this was love! And what kind of a wretch was he, presuming to love
-like this a woman who was the promised bride of another man! Ah, but
-such a man! A villain! A brute, who had used his power over her to make
-her suffer tortures! Had a man like that a right to claim her? His
-whole being answered “no.”
-
-Then the memory of the look in her eyes, the turn of her head, the
-soft touch of her fingers as they lay for that instant in his, the
-inflection of her voice, would send that wave of sweetness over his
-senses, his heart would thrill anew, and he would forget the wretch who
-stood between him and this lovely girl whom he knew now he loved as he
-had never dreamed a man could love.
-
-Gradually his mind steadied itself under the sweet intoxication, and he
-began to wonder just what he should say to her in the morning. It was
-a good thing he had not had further opportunity to talk with her that
-night, for he could not have told her everything; and now if all went
-well they would be in Washington in the morning, and he might make some
-excuse till after he had delivered his message. Then he would be free
-to tell the whole story, and lay his case before her for decision. His
-heart throbbed with ecstasy as he thought of the possibility of her
-forgiving him, and yet it seemed most unlikely. Sometimes he would let
-his wild longings fancy for just an instant what joy it would be if she
-could be induced to let the marriage stand. But he told himself at the
-same time that that could never be. It was very likely that there was
-some one else in New York to whom her heart would turn if she were free
-from the scoundrel who had threatened her into a compulsory marriage.
-He would promise to help her, protect her, defend her from the man
-who was evidently using blackmail to get her into his power for some
-purpose; most likely for the sake of having control of her property.
-At least it would be some comfort to be able to help her out of her
-trouble. And yet, would she ever trust a man who had even unwittingly
-allowed her to be bound by the sacred tie of marriage to an utter
-stranger?
-
-And thus, amid hope and fear, the night whirled itself away. Forward
-in the sleeper the girl lay wide awake for a long time. In the middle
-of the night a thought suddenly evolved itself out of the blackness
-of her curtained couch. She sat upright alertly and stared into the
-darkness, as if it were a thing that she could catch and handle and
-examine. The thought was born out of a dreamy vision of the crisp
-brown waves, almost curls if they had not been so short and thick,
-that covered the head of the man who had lain sleeping outside her
-curtains in the early morning. It came to her with sudden force that
-not so had been the hair of the boy George Hayne, who used to trouble
-her girlish days. His was thin and black and oily, collecting naturally
-into little isolated strings with the least warmth, and giving him the
-appearance of a kitten who had been out in the rain. One lock, how well
-she remembered that lock!--one lock on the very crown of his head had
-always refused to lie down, no matter how much persuasion was brought
-to bear upon it. It had been the one point on which the self-satisfied
-George had been pregnable, his hair, that scalp lock that would always
-arise stiffly, oilily, from the top of his head. The hair she had
-looked at admiringly that morning in the dawning crimson of the rising
-sun had not been that way. It had curved clingingly to the shape of the
-fine head as if it loved to go that way. It was beautiful and fine and
-burnished with a sense of life and vigor in its every wave. Could hair
-change in ten years? Could it grow brown where it had been black? Could
-it become glossy instead of dull and oily? Could it take on the signs
-of natural wave where it had been as straight as a die? Could it grow
-like fur where it had been so thin?
-
-The girl could not solve the problem, but the thought was most
-startling and brought with it many suggestive possibilities that were
-most disturbing. Yet gradually out of the darkness she drew a sort of
-comfort in her dawning enlightenment. Two things she had to go on in
-her strange premises, he had said he did not write the letters, and his
-hair was not the same. Who then was he? Her husband now undoubtedly,
-but who? And if deeds and hair could change so materially, why not
-spirits? At least he was not the same as she had feared and dreaded.
-There was so much comfort.
-
-And at last she lay down and slept.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-
-They were late coming into Washington, for the Special had been
-sidetracked in the night for several express trains, and the noisy
-crowd who had kept one another awake till after midnight made up by
-sleeping far into the morning.
-
-Three times did Gordon make the journey three cars front to see if his
-companion of yesterday were awake and needed anything, but each time
-found the curtains drawn and still, and each time he went slowly back
-again to his seat in the crowded day-coach.
-
-It was not until the white dome of the capitol, and the tall needle
-of the monument, were painted soft and vision-like against the sky,
-reminding one of the pictures of the heavenly city in the story of
-Pilgrim’s Progress, and faintly suggesting a new and visionary world,
-that he sought her again, and found her fully ready, standing in the
-aisle while the porter put up the berth out of the way. Beneath the
-great brim of her purple hat, where the soft fronds of her plumes
-trembled with the motion of the train, she lifted sweet eyes to him, as
-if she were both glad and frightened to see him. And then that ecstasy
-shot through him again, as he realized suddenly what it would be to
-have her for his life-companion, to feel her looks of gladness were all
-for him, and have the right to take all fright away from her.
-
-They could only smile at each other for good-morning, for everybody
-was standing up and being brushed, and pushing here and there for
-suit-cases and lost umbrellas; and everybody talked loudly, and laughed
-a great deal, and told how late the train was. Then at last they were
-there, and could get out and walk silently side by side in the noisy
-procession through the station to the sidewalk.
-
-What little things sometimes change a lifetime, and make for our safety
-or our destruction! That very morning three keen watchers were set to
-guard that station at Washington to hunt out the government spy who had
-stolen back the stolen message, and take him, message and all, dead
-or alive, back to New York; for the man who could testify against the
-Holman Combination was not to be let live if there was such a thing as
-getting him out of the way. But they never thought to watch the Special
-which was supposed to carry only delegates to the great convention. He
-could not possibly be on that! They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh,
-for they had been so advised by telegram the evening before by one of
-their company who had seen him buying a sleeper ticket for Washington,
-but they felt safe about that Special, for they had made inquiries
-and been told no one but delegates could possibly come on it. They
-had done their work thoroughly, and were on hand with every possible
-plan perfected for bagging their game, but they took the time when the
-Pittsburgh Special was expected to arrive for eating a hearty breakfast
-in the restaurant across the street from the station. Two of them
-emerged from the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to meet the next
-Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, having placed the lady in a closed
-carriage, was getting in himself.
-
-If the carriage had stood in any other spot along the pavement in
-front of the station, they never would have seen him, but, as it was,
-they had a full view of him; and because they were Washington men, and
-experts in their line, they recognized him at once, and knew their
-plans had failed, and that only by extreme measures could they hope
-to prevent the delivery of the message which would mean downfall and
-disaster to them and their schemes.
-
-As Gordon slammed shut the door of the carriage, he caught a vision of
-his two enemies pointing excitedly toward him, and he knew that the
-bloodhounds were on the scent.
-
-His heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided between the message and
-the lady. What should he do? Drive at once to the home of his chief
-and deliver the message, or leave the girl at his rooms, ’phone for
-a faster conveyance and trust to getting to his chief ahead of his
-pursuers?
-
-“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you! Make it
-a matter of life and death!” rang the little ditty in his ears, and now
-it seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the message. And yet--“a
-matter of life and death!” He could not, must not, might not, take the
-lady with him into danger. If he must be in danger of death he did not
-want to die having exposed an innocent stranger to the same.
-
-Then there was another point to be thought of.
-
-He had already told the driver to take him to his apartments, and to
-drive as rapidly as possible. It would not do to stop him now and
-change the directions, for a pistol-shot could easily reach him yet;
-and, coming from a crowd, who would be suspected? His enemies were
-standing on the threshold of a place where there were many of their
-kind to protect them, and none of his friends knew of his coming. It
-would be a race for life from now on to the finish.
-
-Celia was looking out with interest at the streets, recognizing
-landmarks with wonder, and did not notice Gordon’s white, set face
-and burning eyes as he strained his vision to note how fast the horse
-was going. Oh, if the driver would only turn off at the next corner
-into the side street they could not watch the carriage so far, but it
-was not likely, for this was the most direct road, and yet--yes, he
-had turned! Joy! The street here was so crowded that he had sought the
-narrower, less crowded way that he might go the faster.
-
-It seemed an age to him before they stopped at his apartments. To
-Celia, it had been but a short ride, in which familiar scenes had
-brought her pleasure, for she recognized that she was not in strange
-Chicago, but in Washington, a city often visited. Somehow she felt it
-was an omen of a better future than she had feared.
-
-“Oh, why didn’t you tell me?” she smiled to Gordon. “It is Washington,
-dear old Washington.”
-
-Somehow he controlled the tumult in his heart and smiled back, saying
-in a voice quite natural:
-
-“I am so glad you like it.”
-
-She seemed to understand that they could not talk until they reached
-a quiet place somewhere, and she did not trouble him with questions.
-Instead--she looked from the window, or watched him furtively,
-comparing him with her memory of George Hayne, and wondering in her
-own thoughts. She was glad to have them to herself for just this
-little bit, for now that the morning had come she was almost afraid of
-revelation, what it might bring forth. And so it came about that they
-took the swift ride in more or less silence, and neither thought it
-strange.
-
-As the carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hurried voice, tense with
-excitement, but her own nerves were on a strain also, and she did not
-notice.
-
-“We get out here.”
-
-He had the fare ready for the driver, and, stepping out, hurried Celia
-into the shelter of the hallway. It happened that an elevator had just
-come down, so it was but a second more before they were up safe in the
-hall before his own apartment.
-
-Taking a latch-key from his pocket, he applied it to the door, flung
-it open, and ushered Celia to a large leather chair in the middle of
-the room. Then, stepping quickly to the side of the room, he touched a
-bell, and from it went to the telephone, with an “Excuse me, please,
-this is necessary,” to the girl, who sat astonished, wondering at the
-homelikeness of the room and at the “at-homeness” of the man. She had
-expected to be taken to a hotel. This seemed to be a private apartment
-with which he was perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some
-friend. But how, after an absence of years, could he remember just
-where to go, which door and which elevator to take, and how to fit the
-key with so accustomed a hand? Then her attention was arrested by his
-voice:
-
-“Give me 254 L please,” he said.... “Is this 254 L?... Is Mr. Osborne
-in?... You say he has _not_ gone to the office yet?... May I speak
-with him?... Is this Mr. Osborne?... I did not expect you to know
-my voice.... Yes, sir; just arrived, and all safe so far. Shall I
-bring it to the house or the office?... The house?... All right,
-sir. Immediately.... By the way, I am sure Hale and Burke are on my
-track. They saw me at the station.... To your house?... You will wait
-until I come?... All right, sir. Yes, immediately.... Sure, I’ll take
-precaution.... Good-by.”
-
-With the closing words came a tap at the door.
-
-“Come, Henry,” he answered, as the astonished girl turned toward the
-door. “Henry, you will go down, please, to the restaurant, and bring up
-a menu card. This lady will select what she would like to have, and you
-will serve breakfast for her in this room as soon as possible. I shall
-be out for perhaps an hour, and, meantime, you will obey any orders she
-may give you.”
-
-He did not introduce her as his wife, but she did not notice the
-omission. She had suddenly become aware of a strange, distraught haste
-in his manner, and when he said he was going out alarm seized her, she
-could not tell why.
-
-The man bowed deferentially to his master, looked his admiration and
-devotion to the lady, waited long enough to say:
-
-“I’se mighty glad to see you safe back, sah--” and disappeared to obey
-orders.
-
-Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation, but he was already at
-the telephone again:
-
-“46!... Is this the Garage?... This is The Harris Apartments.... Can
-you send Thomas with a closed car to the rear door immediately?...
-Yes.... No, I want Thomas, and a car that can speed.... Yes, the rear
-door, _rear_, and at once.... What?... What’s that?... But I _must_....
-It’s _official_ business.... Well, I thought so. Hurry them up.
-Good-by.”
-
-He turned and saw her troubled gaze following him with growing fear in
-her eyes.
-
-“What is the matter?” she asked anxiously. “Has something happened?”
-
-Just one moment he paused, and, coming toward her, laid his hands on
-hers tenderly.
-
-“Nothing the matter at all,” he said soothingly. “At least nothing
-that need worry you. It is just a matter of pressing business. I’m
-sorry to have to go from you for a little while, but it is necessary. I
-cannot explain to you until I return. You will trust me? You will not
-worry?”
-
-“I will try!”
-
-Her lips were quivering, and her eyes were filled with tears. Again he
-felt that intense longing to lay his lips upon hers and comfort her,
-but he put it from him.
-
-“There is nothing to feel sad about,” he said, smiling gently. “It is
-nothing tragic only there is need for haste, for if I wait, I may fail
-yet---- It is something that means a great deal to me. When I come back
-I will explain all.”
-
-“Go!” she said, putting out her hands in a gesture of resignation, as
-if she would hurry him from her. And though she was burning to know
-what it all meant there was that about him that compelled her to trust
-him and to wait.
-
-Then his control almost went from him. He nearly took those hands in
-his and kissed them, but he did not. Instead, he went with swift steps
-to his bedroom door, threw open a chiffonier drawer, and took therefrom
-something small and sinister. She could see the gleam of its polished
-metal, and she sensed a strange little menace in the click as he did
-something to it, she could not see what, because his back was to her.
-He came out with his hand in his pocket, as if he had just hidden
-something there.
-
-She was not familiar with firearms. Her mother had been afraid of them
-and her brother had never flourished any around the house, yet she knew
-by instinct that some weapon of defence was in Gordon’s possession;
-and a nameless horror rose in her heart and shone from her blue eyes,
-but she would not speak a word to let him know it. If he had not been
-in such haste, he would have seen. Her horror would have been still
-greater if she had known that he already carried one loaded revolver
-and was taking a second in case of an emergency.
-
-“Don’t worry,” he called as he hurried out the door. “Henry will get
-anything you need, and I shall soon be back.”
-
-The door closed and he was gone. She heard his quick step down the
-hall, heard the elevator door slide and slam again, and then she knew
-he was gone down. Outside an automobile sounded and she seemed to hear
-again his words at the phone, “The rear door.” Why had he gone to the
-rear door? Was he in hiding? Was he flying from some one? What, oh
-what, did it mean?
-
-Without stopping to reason it out, she flew across the room and opened
-the door of the bedroom he had just left, then through it passed
-swiftly to a bath-room beyond. Yes, there was a window. Would it be the
-one? Could she see him? And what good would it do her if she could?
-
-She crowded close to the window. There was a heavy sash with stained
-glass, but she selected a clear bit of yellow and put her eye close.
-Yes, there was a closed automobile just below her, and it had started
-away from the building. He had gone, then. Where?
-
-Her mind was a blank for a few minutes. She went slowly, mechanically
-back to the other room without noticing anything about her, sat down in
-the chair, putting her hands to her temples, and tried to think. Back
-to the moment in the church where he had appeared at her side and the
-service had begun. Something had told her then that he was different,
-and yet there had been those letters, and how could it possibly be
-that he had not written them? He was gone on some dangerous business.
-Of that she felt sure. There had been some caution given him by the
-man to whom he first ’phoned. He had promised to take precaution--that
-meant the little, wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket. Perhaps some
-harm would come to him, and she would never know. And then she stared
-at the opposite wall with wonder-filled eyes. Well, and suppose it
-did? Why did she care? Was he not the man whose power over her but two
-short days ago would have made her welcome death as her deliverer? Why
-was all changed now? Just because he had smiled upon her and been kind?
-Had given her a few wild flowers and said her eyes were like them? Had
-hair that waved instead of being straight and thin? And where was all
-her loyalty to her dear dead father’s memory? How could she mind that
-danger should come to one who had threatened to tell terrible lies that
-should blacken him in the thoughts of people who had loved him? Had
-she forgotten the letters? Was she willing to forgive all just because
-he had declared that he did not write them? How foolish! He said he
-could prove that he did not, but of course that was all nonsense. He
-must have written them. And yet there was the wave in his hair, and the
-kindness in his eyes. And he had looked--oh, he had looked terrible
-things when he had read that letter; as if he would like to wreak
-vengeance on the man who had written it. Could a man masquerade that
-way?
-
-And then a new solution to the problem came to her. Suppose
-this--whoever he was--this man who had married her, had gone out to
-find and punish George Hayne? Suppose---- But then she covered her eyes
-with her hands and shuddered. Yet why should she care? But she did.
-Suppose he should be killed, himself! Who was he if not George Hayne
-and how did he come to take his place? Was it just another of George’s
-terrible tricks upon her?
-
-A quick vision came of their bringing him back to her. He would lie,
-perhaps, on that great crimson leather couch over there, just as he had
-lain in the dawning of the morning in the stateroom of the train, with
-his hands hanging limp, and one perhaps across his breast, as if he
-were guarding something, and his bright waves of brown hair lying heavy
-about his forehead--only, his forehead would be white, so white and
-cold, with a little blue mark in his temple perhaps.
-
-The footsteps of the man Henry brought her back to the present again.
-She smiled at him pleasantly as he entered, and answered his questions
-about what she would have for breakfast; but it was he who selected the
-menu, not she, and after he had gone she could not have told what she
-had ordered. She could not get away from the vision on the couch. She
-closed her eyes and pressed her cold fingers against her eyeballs to
-drive it away, but still her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her.
-
-The colored man came back presently with a loaded tray, and set it down
-on a little table which he wheeled before her, as though he had done
-it many times before. She thanked him, and said there was nothing else
-she needed, so he went away.
-
-She toyed with the cup of delicious coffee which he had poured for her,
-and the few swallows she took gave her new heart. She broke a bit from
-a hot roll, and ate a little of the delicious steak, but still her mind
-was at work at the problem, and her heart was full of nameless anxiety.
-
-He had gone away without any breakfast himself, and he had had no
-supper the night before, she was sure. He probably had given to her
-everything he could get on the train. She was haunted with regret
-because she had not shared with him. She got up and walked about the
-room, trying to shake off the horror that was upon her, and the dread
-of what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily she would have
-thought of sending a message to her mother and brother, but her mind
-was so troubled now that it never occurred to her.
-
-The walls of the room were tinted a soft greenish gray, and above the
-picture moulding they blended into a woodsy landscape with a hint
-of water, greensward, and blue sky through interlacing branches. It
-reminded her of the little village they had seen as they started from
-the train in the early morning light. What a beautiful day they had
-spent together and how it had changed her whole attitude of heart
-toward the man she had married!
-
-Two or three fine pictures were hung in good lights. She studied them,
-and knew that the one who had selected and hung them was a judge of
-true art; but they did not hold her attention long, for as yet, she had
-not connected the room with the man for whom she waited.
-
-A handsome mahogany desk stood open in a broad space by the window. She
-was attracted by a little painted miniature of a woman. She took it up
-and studied the face. It was fine and sweet, with brown hair dressed
-low, and eyes that reminded her of the man who had just gone from her.
-Was this, then, the home of some relative with whom he had come to stop
-for a day or two, and, if so, where was the relative? The dress in the
-miniature was of a quarter of a century past, yet the face was young
-and sweet, as young, perhaps, as herself. She wondered who it was. She
-put the miniature back in place with caressing hand. She felt that she
-would like to know this woman with the tender eyes. She wished her here
-now, that she might tell her all her anxiety.
-
-Her eye wandered to the pile of letters, some of them official-looking
-ones, one or two in square, perfumed envelopes, with high, angular
-writing. They were all addressed to Mr. Cyril Gordon. That was
-strange! Who was Mr. Cyril Gordon? What had they--what had she--to do
-with him? Was he a friend whom George--whom they--were visiting for a
-few days? It was all bewildering.
-
-Then the telephone rang.
-
-Her heart beat wildly and she looked toward it as if it had been a
-human voice speaking and she had no power to answer. What should she do
-now? Should she answer? Or should she wait for the man to come? Could
-the man hear the telephone bell or was she perhaps expected to answer?
-And yet if Mr. Cyril Gordon--well, somebody ought to answer. The ’phone
-rang insistently once more, and still a third time. What if _he_ should
-be calling her! Perhaps he was in distress. This thought sent her
-flying to the ’phone. She took down the receiver and called:
-
-“Hello!” and her voice sounded far away to herself.
-
-“Is this Mr. Gordon’s apartment?”
-
-“Yes,” she answered, for her eyes were resting on the pile of letters
-close at hand.
-
-“Is Mr. Gordon there?”
-
-“No, he is not,” she answered, growing more confident now and almost
-wishing she had not presumed to answer a stranger’s ’phone.
-
-“Why, I just ’phoned to the office and they told me he had returned,”
-said a voice that had an imperious note in it. “Are you sure he isn’t
-there?”
-
-“Quite sure,” she replied.
-
-“Who is this, please?”
-
-“I beg your pardon,” said Celia trying to make time and knowing not
-how to reply. She was not any longer Miss Hathaway. Who was she? Mrs.
-Hayne? She shrank from the name. It was filled with horror for her.
-“Who is this, I said,” snapped the other voice now. “Is this the
-chambermaid? Because if it is I’d like you to look around and inquire
-and be quite sure that Mr. Gordon isn’t there. I wish to speak with him
-about something very important.”
-
-Celia smiled.
-
-“No, this is not the chambermaid,” she said sweetly, “and I am quite
-sure Mr. Gordon is not here.”
-
-“How long before he will be there?”
-
-“I don’t know really, for I have but just come myself.”
-
-“Who is this to whom I am talking?”
-
-“Why--just a friend,” she answered, wondering if that were the best
-thing to say.
-
-“Oh!” there was a long and contemplative pause at the other end.
-
-“Well, could you give Mr. Gordon a message when he comes in?”
-
-“Why certainly, I think so. Who is this?”
-
-“Miss Bentley. Julia Bentley. He’ll know,” replied the imperious one
-eagerly now. “And tell him please that he is expected here to dinner
-to-night. We need him to complete the number, and he simply mustn’t
-fail me. I’ll excuse him for going off in such a rush if he comes early
-and tells me all about it. Now you won’t forget, will you? You got the
-name, Bentley, did you? B, E, N, T, L, E, Y, you know. And you’ll tell
-him the minute he comes in?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Thank you! What did you say your name was?”
-
-But Celia had hung up. Somehow the message annoyed her, she could not
-tell why. She wished she had not answered the ’phone. Whoever Mr. Cyril
-Gordon was what should she do if he should suddenly appear? And as for
-this imperious lady and her message she hoped she would never have to
-deliver it. On second thought why not write it and leave it on his desk
-with the pile of letters? She would do it. It would serve to pass away
-a few of these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully.
-
-She sat down and wrote: “Miss Bentley wishes Mr. Gordon to dine with
-her this evening. She will pardon his running away the other day if he
-will come early.” She laid it beside the high angular writing on the
-square perfumed letters and went back to the leather chair too restless
-to rest yet too weary to stand up.
-
-She went presently to the back windows to look out, and then to the
-side ones. Across the housetops she could catch a glimpse of domes and
-buildings. There was the Congressional Library, which usually delighted
-her with its exquisite tones of gold and brown and white. But she had
-no eyes for it now. Beyond were more buildings, all set in the lovely
-foliage which was much farther developed than it had been in New York
-State. From another window she could get a glimpse of the Potomac
-shining in the morning sun.
-
-She wandered to the front windows and looked out. There were people
-passing and repassing. It was a busy street, but she could not make out
-whether it was one she knew or not. There were two men walking back and
-forth on the opposite side. They did not go further than the corner of
-the street either way. They looked across at the windows sometimes and
-pointed up, when they met, and once one of them took something out of
-his pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side, as if to have it
-ready for use. It reminded her of the thing her husband had held in his
-hand in the bedroom and she shuddered. She watched them, fascinated,
-not able to draw herself away from the window.
-
-Now and then she would go to the rear window, to see if there was any
-sign of the automobile returning, and then hurry back to the front, to
-see if the men were still there. Once she returned to the chair, and,
-lying back, shut her eyes, and let the memory of yesterday sweep over
-her in all its sweet details, up to the time when they had got into the
-way train and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty to her father. But
-now her heart was all on the other side, and she began to feel that
-there had been some dreadful mistake, somewhere, and he was surely all
-right. He could not, could not have written those terrible letters.
-Then again the details of their wild carriage ride in Pittsburgh
-and miraculous escape haunted her. There was something strange and
-unexplained about that which she must understand.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-
-Meantime, Gordon was speeding away to another part of the city by the
-fastest time an experienced chauffeur dared to make. About the time
-they turned the first corner into the avenue, two burly policemen
-sauntered casually into the pretty square in front of the house where
-lived the chief of the Secret Service. There was nothing about their
-demeanor to show that they had been detailed there by special urgency,
-and three men who hurried to the little park just across the street
-from the house could not possibly know that their leisurely and
-careless stroll was the result of a hurried telephone message from the
-chief to police headquarters immediately after his message from Gordon.
-
-The policemen strolled by the house, greeted each other, and walked
-on around the square across the little park. They eyed the three men
-sitting idly on a bench, and passed leisurely on. They disappeared
-around a corner, and to the three men were out of the way. The latter
-did not know the hidden places where the officers took up their watch,
-and when an automobile appeared, and the three stealthily got up from
-their park bench and distributed themselves among the shrubbery near
-the walk, they knew not that their every movement was observed with
-keen attention. But they did wonder how it happened that those two
-policemen seemed to spring out of the ground suddenly, just as the auto
-came to a halt in front of the chief’s house.
-
-Gordon sprang out and up the steps with a bound, the door opening
-before him as if he were expected. The two grim and apparently
-indifferent policemen stood outside like two stone images on guard,
-while up the street with rhythmic sound rode two mounted police, also
-coming to a halt before the house as if for a purpose. The three men in
-the bushes hid their instruments of death, and would have slunk away
-had there been a chance; but, turning to make a hasty flight, they were
-met by three more policemen. There was the crack of a revolver as one
-of the three desperadoes tried a last reckless dash for freedom--and
-failed. The wretch went to justice with his right arm hanging limp by
-his side.
-
-Inside the house Gordon was delivering up his message, and as he
-laid it before his chief, and stood silent while the elder man read
-and pondered its tremendous import, it occurred to him for the first
-time that his chief would require some report of his journey, and
-the hindrances that had made him a whole day late in getting back to
-Washington. His heart stood still with sudden panic. What was he to
-do? How could he tell it all? What right had he to tell of his marriage
-to an unknown woman? A marriage that perhaps was not a marriage. He
-could not know what the outcome would be until he had told the girl
-everything. As far as he himself was concerned he knew that the great
-joy of his life had come to him in her. Yet he could not hope that it
-would be so with her. And he must think of her and protect her good
-name in every way. If there should be such a thing ever as that she
-should consent to remain with him and be his wife he must never let a
-soul know but what the marriage had been planned long ago. It would not
-be fair to her. It would make life intolerable for them both either
-together or apart. And while he might be and doubtless was perfectly
-safe in confiding in his chief, and asking him to keep silence about
-the matter, still he felt that even that would be a breach of faith
-with Celia. He must close his lips upon the story until he could talk
-with her and know her wishes. He drew a sigh of weariness. It was a
-long, hard way he had come, and it was not over. The worst ordeal would
-be his confession to the bride who was not his wife.
-
-The chief looked up.
-
-“Could you make this out, Gordon?” he asked, noting keenly the young
-man’s weary eyes, the strained, tense look about his mouth.
-
-“Oh, yes sir; I saw it at once. I was almost afraid my eyes might
-betray the secret before I got away with it.”
-
-“Then you know what you have saved the country, and what you have been
-worth to the Service.”
-
-The young man flushed with pleasure.
-
-“Thank you, sir,” he said, looking down. “I understood it was
-important, and I am glad I was able to accomplish the errand without
-failing.”
-
-“Have you reason to suppose you were followed, except for what you saw
-at the station in this city?”
-
-“Yes, sir; I am sure there were detectives after me as I was leaving
-New York. They were suspicious of me. I saw one of the men who had
-been at the dinner with me watching me. The disguise--and--some
-circumstances--threw him off. He wasn’t sure. Then, there was a
-man--you know him, Balder--at Pittsburgh?----”
-
-“Pittsburgh!”
-
-“Yes, you wonder how I got to Pittsburgh. You see, I was shadowed
-almost from the first I suspect, for when I reached the station in
-New York I was sure I recognized this man who had sat opposite me a
-few minutes before. I suppose my disguise, which you so thoughtfully
-provided, bothered him, for though he followed me about at a little
-distance he didn’t speak to me. I had to get on the first train that
-circumstances permitted, and perhaps the fact that it was a Chicago
-train made him think he was mistaken in me. Anyhow I saw no more of him
-after the train left the station. Rather unexpectedly I found I could
-get the drawing-room compartment, and went into immediate retirement,
-leaving the train at daylight where it was delayed on a side track,
-and walked across country till I found a conveyance that took me to a
-Pittsburgh train. It didn’t seem feasible to get away from the Chicago
-train any sooner as the train made no further stops, and it was rather
-late at night by the time I boarded it. I thought I would run less risk
-by making a détour. I never dreamed they would have watchers out for
-me at Pittsburgh, and I can’t think yet how they managed to get on my
-track, but almost the first minute I landed I spied Balder stretching
-his neck over the crowds. I bolted from the station at once and finding
-a carriage drawn up before the door just ready for me I got in and
-ordered them to drive me to East Liberty station.
-
-“I am afraid I shall always be suspicious of handy closed carriages
-after this experience. I certainly have reason to be. The door was no
-sooner closed on me than the driver began to race like mad through the
-streets. I didn’t think much of it at first until he had been going
-some time, fully long enough to have reached East Liberty, and the
-horse was still rushing like a locomotive. Then I saw that we were in a
-lonely district of the city that seemed unfamiliar. That alarmed me and
-I tapped on the window and called to the driver. He paid no attention.
-Then I found the doors were fastened shut, and the windows plugged so
-they wouldn’t open.
-
-“I discovered that an armed man rode beside the driver. I managed to
-get one of the doors open after a good deal of work, and escaped when
-we stopped for a freight train to pass; but I’m satisfied that I was
-being kidnapped and if I hadn’t got away just when I did you would
-never have heard of me again or the message either. I finally managed
-to reach East Liberty station and jumped on the first train that came
-in, but I caught a glimpse of Balder stretching his neck over the
-crowd. He must have seen me and had Hale and Burke on the watch when I
-got here. They just missed me by a half second. They went over to the
-restaurant--didn’t expect me on a special, but I escaped them, and I’m
-mighty glad to get that little paper into your possession and out of
-mine. It’s rather a long story to tell the whole, but I think you have
-the main facts.”
-
-There was a suspicious glitter in the keen eyes of the kind old chief
-as he put out his hand and grasped Gordon’s in a hearty shake; but all
-he said was:
-
-“And you are all worn out--I’ll guarantee you didn’t sleep much last
-night.”
-
-“Well, no,” said Gordon; “I had to sit up in a day-coach and share the
-seat with another man. Besides, I was somewhat excited.”
-
-“Of course, of course!” puffed the old chief, coughing vigorously, and
-showing by his gruff attitude that he was deeply affected. “Well, young
-man, this won’t be forgotten by the Department. Now you go home and
-take a good sleep. Take the whole day off if you wish, and then come
-down to-morrow morning and tell me all about it. Isn’t there anything
-more I need to know at once that justice may be done?”
-
-“I believe not,” said Gordon, with a sigh of relief. “There’s a list
-of the men who were at the dinner with me. I wrote them down from
-memory last night when I couldn’t sleep. I also wrote a few scraps of
-conversation, which will show you just how deep the plot had gone. If
-I had not read the message and known its import, I should not have
-understood what they were talking about.”
-
-“H-m! Yes. If there had been more time before you started I might have
-told you all about it. Still, it seemed desirable that you should
-appear as much at your ease as possible. I thought this would be best
-accomplished by your knowing nothing of the import of the writing when
-you first met the people.”
-
-“I suppose it was as well that I did not know any more than I did. You
-are a great chief, sir! I was deeply impressed anew with that fact as
-I saw how wonderfully you had planned for every possible emergency. It
-was simply great, sir.”
-
-“Pooh! Pooh! Get you home and to bed,” said the old chief quite
-brusquely.
-
-He touched a bell and a man appeared.
-
-“Jessup, is the coast clear?” he asked.
-
-“Yessah,” declared the darky. “Dey have jest hed a couple o’ shots in
-de pahk, an’ now dey tuk de villains off to der p’lice station. De
-officers is out der waitin’ to ’scort de gemman.”
-
-“Get home with you, Gordon, and don’t come to the office till ten in
-the morning. Then come straight to my private room.”
-
-Gordon thanked him, and left the room preceded by the gray-haired
-servant. He was surprised to find the policemen outside, and wondered
-still more that they seemed to be going one in front and the other
-behind him as he rode along. He was greatly relieved that he had not
-been called upon to give the whole story. His heart was filled with
-anxiety now to get back to the girl, and tell her everything, and yet
-he dreaded it more than anything he had ever had to face in all his
-life. He sat back on the cushions, and, covering his face with his
-hands, tried to think how he should begin, but he could see nothing but
-her sweet eyes filled with tears, think of nothing but the way she had
-looked and smiled during the beautiful morning they had spent together
-in the little town of Milton. Beautiful little Milton. Should he ever
-see it again?
-
-Celia at her window grew more and more nervous as an hour and then
-another half-hour slipped slowly away, and still he did not come.
-Then two mounted policemen rode rapidly down the street following an
-automobile, in which sat the man for whom she waited.
-
-She had no eyes now for the men who had been lurking across the way,
-and when she thought to look for them again she saw them running in the
-opposite direction as fast as they could go, making wild gestures for a
-car to stop for them.
-
-She stood by the window and saw Gordon get out of the car, and
-disappear into the building below, saw the car wheel and curve away
-and the mounted police take up their stand on either corner; heard the
-clang of the elevator as it started up, and the clash of its door as
-it stopped at that floor; heard steps coming on toward the door, and
-the key in the latch. Then she turned and looked at him, her two hands
-clasped before her, and her two eyes yearning, glad and fearful all at
-once.
-
-“Oh, I have been so frightened about you! I am so glad you have come!”
-she said, and caught her voice in a sob as she took one little step
-toward him.
-
-He threw his hat upon the floor, wherever it might land, and went
-to meet her, a great light glowing in his tired eyes, his arms
-outstretched to hers.
-
-“And did you care?” he asked in a voice of almost awe. “Dear, did you
-_care_ what became of _me_?”
-
-He had come quite close to her now.
-
-“Oh yes, I _cared_! I could not help it.” There was a real sob in her
-voice now, though her eyes were shining.
-
-His arms went around her hungrily, as if he would draw her to him in
-spite of everything; yet he kept them so encircling, without touching
-her, like a benediction that would enwrap the very soul of his beloved.
-Looking down into her face he breathed softly:
-
-“Oh, my dear, it seems as if I must hold you close and kiss you!”
-
-She looked up with bated breath, and thought she understood. Then,
-with a lovely gesture of surrender, she whispered, “I can trust you.”
-Her lashes were drooping now over her eyes.
-
-“Not until you know all,” he said, and put her gently from him into the
-great arm-chair, with a look of reverence and self-abnegation she felt
-she never would forget.
-
-“Then, tell me quickly,” she said, a swift fear making her weak from
-head to foot. She laid her hand across her heart, as if to help steady
-its beating.
-
-He wheeled forward the leather couch opposite her chair, and sat down,
-his head drooping, his eyes down. He dreaded to begin.
-
-She waited for the revelation, her eyes upon his bowed head.
-
-Finally he lifted his eyes and saw her look, and a tender light came
-into his face.
-
-“It is a strange story,” he said. “I don’t know what you will think of
-me after it is told, but I want you to know that, blundering, stupid,
-even criminal, though you may think me, I would sooner die this minute
-than cause you one more breath of suffering.”
-
-Her eyes lit up with a wonderful light, and the ready tears sprang into
-them, tears that sparkled through the sunshine of a great joy that
-illumined her whole face.
-
-“Please go on,” she said softly, and added very gently, “I believe you.”
-
-But even with those words in his ears the beginning was not easy.
-Gordon drew a deep breath and launched forth.
-
-“I am not the man you think,” he said, and looked at her to see how she
-would take it. “My name is not George Hayne. My name is Cyril Gordon.”
-
-As one might launch an arrow at a beloved victim and long that it may
-not strike the mark, so he sent his truth home to her understanding,
-and waited in breathless silence, hoping against hope that this might
-not turn her against him.
-
-“Oh!” she breathed softly, as if some puzzle were solving itself.
-“Oh!”--this time not altogether in surprise, nor as if the fact were
-displeasing. She looked at him expectantly for further revelation, and
-he plunged into his story headlong.
-
-“I’m a member of the Secret Service,--headquarters here in
-Washington,--and day before yesterday I was sent to New York on an
-important errand. A message of great import written in a private code
-had been stolen from one of our men. I was sent to get it before they
-could decipher it. The message involved matters of such tremendous
-significance that I was ordered to go under an assumed name, and on
-no account to let anyone know of my mission. My orders were to get the
-message, and let nothing hinder me in bringing it with all haste to
-Washington. I went with the full understanding that I might even be
-called upon to risk my life.”
-
-He looked up. The girl sat wide-eyed, with hands clasped together at
-her throat.
-
-He hurried on, not to cause her any needless anxiety.
-
-“I won’t weary you with details. There were a good many annoying
-hindrances on the way, which served to make me nervous, but I carried
-out the programme laid down by my chief, and succeeded in getting
-possession of the message and making my escape from the house of the
-man who had stolen it. As I closed the door behind me, knowing that it
-could be but a matter of a few seconds at longest before six furious
-men would be on my track, who would stop at nothing to get back what
-I had taken from them, I saw a carriage standing almost before the
-house. The driver took me for the man he awaited, and I lost no time in
-taking advantage of his mistake. I jumped in, telling him to drive as
-fast as he could. I intended to give him further directions, but he had
-evidently had them from another quarter, and I thought I could call to
-him as soon as we were out of the dangerous neighborhood. To add to
-my situation I soon became sure that an automobile and a motor-cycle
-were following me. I recognized one of the men in the car as the man
-who sat opposite to me at the table a few minutes before. My coachman
-drove like mad, while I hurried to secure the message so that if I were
-caught it would not be found, and to put on a slight disguise--some
-eyebrows and things the chief had given me. Before I knew where I was,
-the carriage had stopped before a building. At first I thought it was
-a prison--and the car and motor-cycle came to a halt just behind me. I
-felt that I was pretty well trapped.”
-
-The girl gave a low moan, and Gordon, not daring to look up, hurried on
-with his story.
-
-“There isn’t much more to tell that you do not already know. I soon
-discovered the building was a church, not a prison. What happened
-afterward was the result of my extreme perturbation of mind, I suppose.
-I cannot account for my stupidity and subsequent cowardice in any other
-way. Neither was it possible for me to explain matters satisfactorily
-at any time during the whole mix-up, on account of the trust which I
-carried, and which I could on no account reveal even in confidence,
-or put in jeopardy in the slightest degree. Naturally at first my
-commission and how to get safely through it all was the only thing of
-importance to me. If you keep this in mind perhaps you will be able
-to judge me less harshly. My only thought when the carriage came to a
-halt was how to escape from those two pursuers, and that more or less
-pervaded my mind during what followed so that ordinary matters which at
-another time would have been at once clear to me, meant nothing at all.
-You see, the instant that carriage came to a standstill some one threw
-open the door, and I heard a voice call ‘Where is the best man?’ Then
-another voice said, ‘Here he is!’ I took it that they thought I was
-best man, but would soon discover that I wasn’t when I came into the
-light. There wasn’t any chance to slip away, or I should have done so,
-and vanished in the dark, but everybody surrounded me, and seemed to
-think I was all right. The two men who had followed were close behind
-eyeing me keenly. I’m satisfied that they were to blame for that wild
-ride we took in Pittsburgh! I soon saw by the remarks that the man
-I was supposed to be had been away from this country for ten years,
-and of course then they would not be very critical. I tried twice to
-explain that there was a mistake, but both times they misunderstood
-me and thought I was saying I couldn’t go in the procession because
-I hadn’t practised. I don’t just know how I came to be in such a
-dreadful mess. It would seem as if it ought to have been a very easy
-thing to say I had got into the wrong carriage and they must excuse me,
-that I wasn’t their man, but, you see, they gave me no time to think
-nor to speak. They just turned me over from one man to another and took
-everything for granted, and I, finding that I would have to break loose
-and flee before their eyes if I wished to escape, reflected that there
-would be no harm in marching down the aisle as best man in a delayed
-wedding, if that was all there was to do. I could disappear as soon as
-the ceremony was over, and no one would be the wiser. The real best man
-would probably turn up and then they might wonder as they pleased for I
-would be far away and perhaps this was as good a place as any in which
-to hide for half an hour until my pursuers were baffled and well on
-their way seeking elsewhere for me. I can see now that I made a grave
-mistake in allowing even so much deception, but I did not see any harm
-in it then, and they all seemed in great distress for the ceremony to
-go forward. Bear in mind also that I was at that time entirely taken up
-with the importance of hiding my message until I could take it safely
-to my chief. Nothing else seemed to matter much. If the real best man
-was late to the wedding and they were willing to use me in his place
-what harm could come from it? He certainly deserved it for being late
-and if he came in during the ceremony he would think some one else had
-been put in his place. They introduced me to your brother--Jefferson.
-I thought he was the bridegroom, and I thought so until they laid your
-hand in mine!”
-
-“Oh!” she moaned, and the little hand went to help its mate cover her
-face.
-
-“I knew it!” he said bitterly. “I knew you would feel just that way
-as soon as you knew. I don’t blame you. I deserve it! I was a fool, a
-villain, a dumb brute--whatever you have a mind to call me! You can’t
-begin to understand how I have suffered for you since this happened,
-and how I have blamed myself.”
-
-He got up suddenly and strode over to the window, frowning down into
-the sunlit street, and wondering how it was that everybody seemed to
-be going on in exactly the same hurry as ever, when for him life had
-suddenly come to a standstill.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-
-The room was very still. The girl did not even sob. He turned after
-a moment and went back to that bowed golden head there in the deep
-crimson chair.
-
-“Look here,” he said, “I know you can’t ever forgive me. I don’t expect
-it! I don’t deserve it! But please don’t feel so awfully about it. I’ll
-explain it all to every one. I’ll make it all right for you. I’ll take
-every bit of blame on myself, and get plenty of witnesses to prove all
-about it----”
-
-The girl looked up with sorrow and surprise in her wet eyes.
-
-“Why, I do not blame you,” she said, mournfully. “I cannot see how
-you were to blame. It was no one’s fault. It was just an unusual
-happening--a strange set of circumstances. I could not blame you. There
-is nothing to forgive, and if there were I would gladly forgive it!”
-
-“Then what on earth makes you look so white and feel so distressed?” he
-asked in a distracted voice, as a man will sometimes look and talk to
-the woman he loves when she becomes a tearful problem of despair to his
-obtuse eyes.
-
-“Oh, don’t you know?”
-
-“No, I don’t,” he said. “You’re surely not mourning for that brute of a
-man to whom you had promised to sacrifice your life?”
-
-She shook her head, and buried her face in her hands again. He could
-see that the tears were dropping between her fingers, and they seemed
-to fall red hot upon his heart.
-
-“Then what is it?” His tone was almost sharp in its demand, but she
-only cried the harder. Her slender shoulders were shaking with her
-grief now.
-
-He put his hand down softly and touched her bowed head.
-
-“Won’t you tell me, Dear?” he breathed, and, stooping, knelt beside her.
-
-The sobs ceased, and she was quite still for a moment, while his hand
-still lay on her hair with that gentle, pleading touch.
-
-“It is--because you married me--in--that way--without knowing---- Oh,
-can’t you see how terrible----”
-
-Oh, the folly and blindness of love! Gordon got up from his knees as if
-she had stung him.
-
-“You need not feel bad about that any more,” he said in a hurt tone.
-“Did I not tell you I would set you free at once? Surely no one in his
-senses could call you bound after such circumstances.”
-
-She was very still for an instant, as if he had struck her, and then
-she raised her golden head, and a pair of sweet eyes suddenly grown
-haughty.
-
-“You mean that _I_ will set _you_ free!” she said coldly. “I could not
-think of letting you be bound by a misunderstanding when you were under
-great stress of mind. You were in no wise to blame. _I_ will set _you_
-free.”
-
-“As you please,” he retorted bitterly, turning toward the window again.
-“It all amounts to the same thing. There is nothing for you to feel bad
-about.”
-
-“Yes, there is,” she answered, with a quick rush of feeling that broke
-through her assumed haughtiness. “I shall always feel that I have
-broken in upon your life. You have had a most trying experience with
-me, and you never can quite forget it. Things won’t be the same----”
-
-She paused and the quiet tears chased each other eloquently down her
-face.
-
-“No,” said Gordon still bitterly; “things will never be the same for
-me. I shall always see you sitting there in my chair. I shall always be
-missing you from it! But I am glad--glad. I would never have known what
-I missed if it had not been for this.” He spoke almost savagely.
-
-He did not look around, but she was staring at him in astonishment, her
-blue eyes suddenly alight.
-
-“What do you mean?” she asked softly.
-
-He wheeled round upon her. “I mean that I shall never forget you; that
-I do not want to forget you. I should rather have had these two days of
-your sweet company, than all my lifetime in any other companionship.”
-
-“Oh!” she breathed. “Then, why--why did you say what you did about
-being free?”
-
-“I didn’t say anything about being free that I remember. It was you
-that said that.”
-
-“I said I would set you free. I could not, of course, hold you to a
-bond you did not want----”
-
-“But I did not say I did not want it. I said I would not hold you if
-_you_ did not want to stay.”
-
-“Do you mean that if you had known me a little--that is, just as much
-as you know me now--and had come in there and found out your mistake
-before it was too late, that you would have _wanted_ to go on with it?”
-
-She waited for his answer breathlessly.
-
-“If you had known me just as much as you do now, and had looked up and
-seen that it was I and not George Hayne you were marrying, would _you_
-have wanted to go on and be married?”
-
-Her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes confused.
-
-“I asked you first,” she said, with just a flicker of a smile.
-
-He caught the shimmer of light in her eyes, and came toward her
-eagerly, his own face all aglow now with a dawning understanding.
-
-“Darling,” he said, “I can go farther than you have asked. From the
-first minute my eyes rested upon your face under that mist of white
-veil I wished with all my heart that I might have known you before any
-other man had found and won you. When you turned and looked at me with
-that deep sorrow in your eyes, you pledged me with every fibre of my
-being to fight for you. I was yours from that instant. And when your
-little hand was laid in mine, my heart went out in longing to have it
-stay in mine forever. I know now, as I did not understand then, that
-the real reason for my not doing something to make known my identity
-at that instant was not because I was afraid of any of the things
-that might happen, or any scene I might make, but because my heart
-was fighting for the right to keep what had been given me out of the
-unknown. You are my wife, by every law of heaven and earth, if your
-heart will but say yes. I love you, as I never knew a man could love,
-and yet if you do not want to stay with me I will set you free; but it
-is true that I should never be the same, for I am married to you in my
-heart, and always shall be. Darling, look up and answer my question
-now.”
-
-He stood before her with outstretched arms, and for answer she rose and
-came to him slowly, with downcast eyes.
-
-“I do not want to be set free,” she said.
-
-Then gently, tenderly, he folded his arms about her, as if she were too
-precious to handle roughly, and laid his lips upon hers.
-
-It was the shrill, insistent clang of the telephone bell that broke in
-upon their bliss. For a moment Gordon let it ring, but its merciless
-clatter was not to be denied; so, drawing Celia close within his arm,
-he made her come with him to the ’phone.
-
-To his annoyance, the haughty voice of Miss Bentley answered him from
-the little black distance of the ’phone.
-
-His arm was about Celia, and she felt his whole body stiffen with
-formality.
-
-“Oh, Miss Bentley! Good-morning! Your message? Why no! Ah! Well, I have
-but just come in----”
-
-A pause during which Celia, panic-stricken, handed him the paper on
-which she had written Julia’s message.
-
-“Ah! Oh, yes, I have the message. Yes, it is very kind of you--” he
-murmured stiffly, “but you will have to excuse me. No, really. It
-is utterly impossible! I have another engagement--” his arm stole
-closer around Celia’s waist and caught her hand, holding it with a
-meaningful pressure. He smiled, with a grimace toward the telephone
-which gladdened her heart. “Pardon me, I didn’t hear that,” he went
-on.... “Oh, give up my engagement and come?... Not possibly!” His
-voice rang with a glad, decided force, and he held still closer the
-soft fingers in his hand.... “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way about
-it. I certainly am not trying to be disagreeable. No, I could not come
-to-morrow night either.... I cannot make any plans for the next few
-days.... I may have to leave town again.... It is quite possible I may
-have to return to New York. Yes, business has been very pressing. I
-hope you will excuse me. I am sorry to disappoint you. No, of course
-I didn’t do it on purpose. I shall have some pleasant news to tell
-you when I see you again--or--” with a glance of deep love at Celia,
-“perhaps I shall find means to let you know of it before I see you.”
-
-The color came and went in Celia’s cheeks. She understood what he meant
-and nestled closer to him.
-
-“No, no, I could not tell it over the ’phone. No, it will keep. Good
-things will always keep if they are well cared for you know. No, really
-I can’t. And I’m very sorry to disappoint you to-night, but it can’t
-be helped.... Good-by.”
-
-He hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief.
-
-“Who is Miss Bentley?” asked Celia, with natural interest. She was
-pleased that he had not addressed her as “Julia.”
-
-“Why, she is--a friend--I suppose you would call her. She has been
-taking possession of my time lately rather more than I really enjoyed.
-Still, she is a nice girl. You’ll like her, I think; but I hope you’ll
-never get too intimate. I shouldn’t like to have her continually
-around. She----” he paused and finished, laughing--“she makes me tired.”
-
-“I was afraid, from her tone when she ’phoned you, that she was a very
-dear friend--that she might be some one you cared for. There was a sort
-of proprietorship in her tone.”
-
-“Yes, that’s the very word, proprietorship,” he laughed. “I couldn’t
-care for her. I never did. I tried to consider her in that light one
-day, because I’d been told repeatedly that I ought to settle down, but
-the thought of having her with me always was--well--intolerable. The
-fact is, you reign supreme in a heart that has never loved another
-girl. I didn’t know there was such a thing as love like this. I knew I
-lacked something, but I didn’t know what it was. This is greater than
-all the gifts of life, this gift of your love. And that it should come
-to me in this beautiful, unsought way seems too good to be true!”
-
-He drew her to him once more and looked down into her lovely face, as
-if he could not drink enough of its sweetness.
-
-“And to think you are willing to be my wife! My wife!” and he folded
-her close again.
-
-A discreet tap on the door announced the arrival of the man Henry, and
-Gordon roused to the necessity of ordering lunch.
-
-He stepped to the door with a happy smile and held it open.
-
-“Come in a minute, Henry,” he said. “This is my wife. I hope you will
-henceforth take her wishes as your special charge, and do for her as
-you have done so faithfully for me.”
-
-The man’s eyes shone with pleasure as he bowed low before the gentle
-lady.
-
-“I is very glad to heah it, sah, and I offers you my
-congratchumlations, sah, and de lady, too. She can’t find no bettah man
-in the whole United States dan Mars’ Gordon. I’s mighty glad you done
-got ma’ied, sah, an’ I hopes you bof have a mighty fine life.”
-
-The luncheon was served in Henry’s best style, and his dark face shone
-as he stepped noiselessly about, putting silver and china and glass in
-place, and casting admiring glances at the lady, who stood holding the
-little miniature in her hand and asking questions with a gentle voice:
-
-“Your mother, you say? How dear she is! And she died so long ago!
-You never knew her? Oh, how strange and sweet and pitiful to have a
-beautiful girl-mother like that!”
-
-She put out her hand to his in the shelter of the deep window, and
-they thought Henry did not see the look and touch that passed between
-them; but he discreetly averted his eyes and smiled benignly at the
-salt-cellars and the celery he was arranging. Then he hurried out to
-a florist’s next door and returned with a dozen white roses, which he
-arranged in a queer little crystal pitcher, one of the few articles
-belonging to his mother that Gordon possessed. It had never been used
-before, except to stand on the mantel.
-
-It was after they had finished their delightful luncheon, and Henry had
-cleared the table and left the room, that Gordon remarked:
-
-“I wonder what has become of George Hayne. Do you suppose he means to
-try to make trouble?”
-
-Celia’s hands fluttered to her throat with a little gesture of fear.
-
-“Oh!” she said. “I had forgotten him! How terrible! He will do
-_something_, of course. He will do _everything_. He will probably carry
-out all his threats. How could I have forgotten! Perhaps Mamma is now
-in great distress. What can we do? What can _I_ do?”
-
-She looked up at him helplessly, and his heart bounded at the thought
-that she was his to protect as long as life should last, and that she
-already depended upon him.
-
-“Don’t be frightened,” he soothed her. “He cannot do anything very
-dreadful, and if he tries we’ll soon silence him. What he has written
-in those letters is blackmail. He is simply a big coward, who will run
-and hide as soon as he is exposed. He thought you did not understand
-law, and so took advantage of you. I’m sure I can silence him.”
-
-“Oh, do you think so? But Mamma! Poor Mamma! It will kill her! And
-George will stop at nothing when he is crossed. I have known him too
-long. It will be _terrible_ if he carries out his threat.” Tears were
-in her eyes, agony was in her face.
-
-“We must telephone your mother at once and set her heart at rest. Then
-we can find out just what ought to be done,” said Gordon soothingly.
-“It was unforgivably thoughtless in me not to have done it before.”
-
-Celia’s face was radiant at the thought of speaking to her mother.
-
-“Oh, how beautiful! Why didn’t I think of that before! What perfectly
-dear things telephones are!”
-
-With one accord, they went to the telephone table.
-
-“Shall you call them up, or shall I?” he asked.
-
-“You call, and then I will speak to Mamma,” she said, her eyes shining
-with her joy in him. “I want them to hear your voice again. They can’t
-help knowing you are all right when they hear your voice.”
-
-For that, he gave her a glance very much worth having.
-
-“Just how do you account for the fact that you didn’t think I was all
-right yesterday afternoon? I have a very realizing sense that you
-didn’t. I used my voice to the best of my ability, but it did no good
-then.”
-
-“Well, you see, that was different! There were those letters to be
-accounted for. Mamma and Jeff don’t know anything about the letters.”
-
-“And what are you going to tell them now?”
-
-She drew her brows down a minute and thought.
-
-“You’d better find out how much they already know,” he suggested. “If
-this George Hayne hasn’t turned up yet, perhaps you can wait until
-you can write, or we might be able to go up to-morrow and explain it
-ourselves.”
-
-“Oh, could we? How lovely!”
-
-“I think we could,” said Gordon. “I’m sure I can make it possible. Of
-course, you know a wedding journey isn’t exactly in the program of the
-Secret Service, but I might be able to work them for one. I surely can
-in a few days if this Holman business doesn’t hold me up. I may be
-needed for a witness. I’ll have to talk with the chief first.”
-
-“Oh, how perfectly beautiful! Then you call them up, and just say
-something pleasant--anything, you know--and then say I’ll speak to
-Mamma.”
-
-She gave him the number, and in a few minutes a voice from New York
-said, “Hello!”
-
-“Hello!” called Gordon. “Is this Mr. Jefferson Hathaway?... Well, this
-is your new brother-in-law. How are you all?... Your mother recovered
-from all the excitement and weariness?... That’s good.... What’s
-that?... You’ve been trying to ’phone us in Chicago?... But we’re not
-in Chicago. We changed our minds and came to Washington instead....
-Yes, we’re in Washington--The Harris Apartments. We have been very
-selfish not to have communicated with you sooner. At least I have.
-Celia hasn’t had any choice in the matter. I’ve kept her so busy.
-Yes, she’s very well, and seems to look happy. She wants to speak for
-herself. I’ll try to arrange to bring her up to-morrow for a little
-visit. I want to see you too. We’ve a lot of things to explain to
-you.... Here is Celia. She wants to speak to you.”
-
-Celia, her eyes shining, her lips quivering with suppressed excitement,
-took the receiver.
-
-“Oh, Jeff dear, it’s good to hear your voice,” she said. “Is everything
-all right? Yes, I’ve been having a perfectly beautiful time, and I’ve
-something fine to tell you. All those nice things you said to me just
-before you got off the train are true. Yes, he’s just as nice as
-you said, and a great deal nicer besides. Oh, yes, I’m very happy,
-and I want to speak to Mamma please. Jeff, is she all right? Is she
-_perfectly_ well, and not fretting a bit? You know you promised to tell
-me. What’s that? She thought I looked sad? Well, I did but that’s all
-gone now. Everything is perfectly beautiful. Tell mother to come to the
-’phone please--I want to make her understand.”
-
-“I’m going to tell her, dear,” she whispered, looking up at Gordon.
-“I’m afraid George will get there before we do and make her worry.”
-
-For answer he stooped and kissed her, his arm encircling her and
-drawing her close. “Whatever you think best, dearest,” he whispered
-back.
-
-“Is that you, Mamma?” With a happy smile she turned back to the ’phone.
-“Dear Mamma! Yes, I’m all safe and happy, and I’m so sorry you have
-worried. We won’t let you do it again. But listen; I’ve something to
-tell you, a surprise--Mamma, I did not marry George Hayne at all. No,
-I say I _did not_ marry George Hayne at all. George Hayne is a wicked
-man. I can’t tell you about it over the ’phone but that was why I
-looked sad. Yes, I was _married_ all right, but not to George. He’s oh,
-so different, Mother you can’t think. He’s right here beside me now,
-and Mother, he is just as dear--you’d be very happy about him if you
-could see him. What did you say? Didn’t I mean to marry George? Why
-Mother, I never wanted to. I was awfully unhappy about it, and I knew I
-made you feel so too, though I tried not to. But I’ll explain all about
-it. You’ll be perfectly satisfied when you know all about it.... No,
-there’s nothing whatever for you to worry about. Everything is right
-now and life looks more beautiful to me than it ever did before. What’s
-his name? Oh;” she looked up at Gordon with a funny little expression
-of dismay. She had forgotten and he whispered it in her ear.
-
-“Cyril--”
-
-“It’s Cyril, Mother! Isn’t that a pretty name? Which name? Oh, the
-first name of course. The last name?”
-
-“Gordon--” he supplied in her ear again.
-
-“Cyril Gordon, Mother,” she said, giggling in spite of herself at her
-strange predicament.... “Yes, Mother. I am very, very happy. I couldn’t
-be happier unless I had you and Jeff, too, and”--she paused, hesitating
-at the unaccustomed name--“and Cyril says we’re coming to visit you
-to-morrow. We’ll come up and see you and explain everything. And you’re
-not to worry about George Hayne if he comes. Just let Jeff put him off
-by telling him you have sent for me, or something of the sort, and
-don’t pay any attention to what he says. What? You say he did come? How
-strange--and he hasn’t been back? I’m so thankful. He is dreadful. Oh,
-Mother, you don’t know what I’ve escaped! And Cyril is good and dear.
-What? You want to speak to him? All right. He’s right here. Good-by,
-Mother, dear, till to-morrow. And you’ll promise not to worry about
-anything? All right. Here is--Cyril.”
-
-Gordon took the receiver.
-
-“Mother, I’m taking good care of her, just as I promised, and I’m going
-to bring her for a flying visit up to see you to-morrow. Yes, I’ll take
-good care of her. She is very dear to me. The best thing that ever
-came into my life.”
-
-Then a mother’s blessing came thrilling over the wires, and touched the
-handsome, manly face with tenderness.
-
-“Thank you,” he said. “I shall try always to make you glad you said
-those words.”
-
-They returned to looking in each other’s eyes, after the receiver was
-hung up, as if they had been parted a long time. It seemed somehow as
-if their joy must be greater than any other married couple, because
-they had all their courting yet to do. It was beautiful to think of
-what was before them.
-
-There was so much on both sides to be told; and to be told over again
-because only half had been told; and there were so many hopes and
-experiences to be exchanged; so many opinions to compare, and to
-rejoice over because they were alike on many essentials. Then there
-were the rooms to be gone through, and Gordon’s pictures and favorite
-books to look at and talk about, and plans for the future to be touched
-upon--just barely touched upon.
-
-The apartment would do until they could look about and get a house,
-Gordon said, his heart swelling with the proud thought that at last he
-would have a real home, like his other married friends, with a real
-princess to preside over it.
-
-Then Celia had to tell all about the horror of the last three months,
-with the unpleasant shadows of the preceding years back of it. She told
-this in the dusk of evening, before Henry had come in to light up,
-and before they had realized that it was almost dinner-time. She told
-it with her face hidden on her husband’s shoulder, and his arms close
-about her, to give her comfort at each revelation of the story. They
-tried also to plan what to do about George Hayne; and then there was
-the whole story of Gordon’s journey and commission from the time the
-old chief had called him into the office until he came to stand beside
-her at the church altar and they were married. It was told in careful
-detail with all the comical, exasperating and pitiful incidents of
-white dog and little newsboy; but the strangest part about it all was
-that Gordon never said one word about Julia Bentley and her imaginary
-presence with him that first day, and he never even knew that he had
-left out an important detail.
-
-Celia laughed over the white dog and declared they must bring him home
-to live with them; and she cried over the story of the brave little
-newsboy and was eager to visit him in New York, promising herself all
-sorts of pleasure in taking him gifts and permanently bettering his
-condition; and it was in this way that Gordon incidentally learned that
-his wife had a fortune in her own right, a fact that for a time gave
-him great uneasiness of mind until she had soothed him and laughed at
-him for an hour or more; for Gordon was an independent creature and had
-ideas about supporting his wife by his own toil. Besides it seemed an
-unfair advantage to have taken a wife and a fortune as it were unaware.
-
-But Celia’s fortune had not spoiled her, and she soon made him see that
-it had always been a mere incident in her scheme of living; comfortable
-and pleasant incident to be sure, but still an incident to be kept
-always in the background, and never for a moment to be a cause for
-self-gratulation or pride.
-
-Gordon found himself dreading the explanation that would have to come
-when he reached New York and faced his wife’s mother and brother. Celia
-had accepted his explanations, because, somehow by the beautiful ways
-of the spirit, her soul had found and believed in his soul before the
-truth was made known to her, but would her mother and brother be able
-also to believe? And he fell to planning with Celia just how he should
-tell the story; and this led to his bringing out a number of letters
-and papers that would be worth while showing as credentials, and every
-step of the way, as Celia got glimpse after glimpse into his past, her
-face shone with joy and her heart leaped with the assurance that her
-lot had been cast in goodly places, for she perceived not only that
-this man was honored and respected in high places, but that his early
-life had been peculiarly pure and true.
-
-The strange loneliness that had surrounded his young manhood seemed
-suddenly to have broken ahead of him, and to have opened out into the
-glory of the companionship of one peculiarly fitted to fill the need
-of his life. Thus they looked into one another’s eyes reading their
-life-joy, and entered into the beautiful miracle of acquaintanceship.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-
-The next morning quite early the ’phone called Gordon to the office.
-The chief’s secretary said the matter was urgent.
-
-He hurried away leaving Celia somewhat anxious lest their plans for
-going to New York that day could not be carried out, but she made up
-her mind not to fret even if the trip had to be put off a little, and
-solaced herself with a short visit with her mother over the telephone.
-
-Gordon entered his chief’s office a trifle anxiously, for he felt that
-in justice to his wife he ought to take her right back to New York and
-get matters there adjusted; but he feared that there would be business
-to hold him at home until the Holman matter was settled.
-
-The chief greeted him affably and bade him sit down.
-
-“I am sorry to have called you up so early,” he said, “but we needed
-you. The fact is, they’ve arrested Holman and five other men, and you
-are in immediate demand to identify them. Would it be asking too much
-of an already overworked man to send you back to New York to-day?”
-
-Gordon almost sprang from his seat in pleasure.
-
-“It just exactly fits in with my plans, or, rather, my wishes,” he
-said, smiling. “There are several matters of my own that I would like
-to attend to in New York and for which of course I did not have time.”
-
-He paused and looked at his chief, half hesitating, marvelling that the
-way had so miraculously opened for him to keep silence a little longer
-on the subject of his marriage. Perhaps the chief need never be told
-that the marriage ceremony took place on the day of the Holman dinner.
-
-“That is good,” said the chief, smiling. “You certainly have earned the
-right to attend to your own affairs. Then we need not feel so bad at
-having to send you back. Can you go on the afternoon train? Good! Then
-let us hear your account of your trip briefly, to see if there are any
-points we didn’t notice yesterday. But first just step here a moment. I
-have something to show you.”
-
-He flung open the door to the next office.
-
-“You knew that Ferry had left the Department on account of his
-ill-health? I have taken the liberty of having your things moved in
-here. This will hereafter be your headquarters, and you will be next to
-me in the Department.”
-
-Gordon turned in amazement and gazed at the kindly old face. Promotion
-he had hoped for, but such promotion, right over the heads of his
-elders and superiors, he had never dreamed of receiving. He could have
-taken the chief in his arms.
-
-“Pooh! Pooh!” said the chief. “You deserve it, you deserve it!” when
-Gordon tried to blunder out some words of appreciation. Then, as if to
-cap the climax, he added:
-
-“And, by the way, you know some one has got to run across the water to
-look after that Stanhope matter. That will fall to you, I’m afraid.
-Sorry to keep you trotting around the globe, but perhaps you’ll like
-to make a little vacation of it. The Department’ll give you some time
-if you want it. Oh, don’t thank me! It’s simply the reward of doing
-your duty, to have more duties given you, and higher ones. You have
-done well, young man. I have here all the papers in the Stanhope case,
-and full directions written out, and then if you can plan for it you
-needn’t return, unless it suits your pleasure. You understand the
-matter as fully as I do already. And now for business. Let’s hurry
-through. There are one or two little matters we must talk over and I
-know you will want to hurry back and get ready for your journey.” And
-so after all the account of Gordon’s extraordinary escape and eventful
-journey home became by reason of its hasty repetition a most prosaic
-story composed of the bare facts and not all of those.
-
-At parting the chief pressed Gordon’s hand with heartiness and ushered
-him out into the hall, with the same brusque manner he used to close
-all business interviews, and Gordon found himself hurrying through the
-familiar halls in a daze of happiness, the secret of his unexpected
-marriage still his own--and hers.
-
-Celia was watching at the window when his key clicked in the lock and
-he let himself into the apartment his face alight with the joy of
-meeting her again after the brief absence. She turned in a quiver of
-pleasure at his coming.
-
-“Well, get ready,” he said joyfully. “We are ordered off to New York on
-the afternoon train, with a wedding trip to Europe into the bargain;
-and I’m promoted to the next place to the chief. What do you think of
-that for a morning’s surprise?”
-
-He tossed up his hat like a boy, came over to where she stood, and
-stooping laid reverent lips upon her brow and eyes.
-
-“Oh, beautiful! lovely!” cried Celia, ecstatically, “come sit down on
-the couch and tell me about it. We can work faster afterward if we
-get it off our minds. Was your chief very much shocked that you were
-married without his permission or knowledge?”
-
-“Why, that was the best of all. I didn’t have to tell him I was
-married. And he is not to know until just as I sail. He need never know
-how it all happened. It isn’t his business and it would be hard to
-explain. No one need ever know except your mother and brother unless
-you wish them to, dear.”
-
-“Oh, I am so glad and relieved,” said Celia, delightedly. “I’ve been
-worrying about that a little,--what people would think of us,--for of
-course we couldn’t possibly explain it all out as it is to us. They
-would always be watching us to see if we really cared for each other;
-and suspecting that we didn’t, and it would be horrid. I think it is
-our own precious secret, and nobody but mamma and Jeff have a right to
-know, don’t you?”
-
-“I certainly do, and I was casting about in my mind as I went into the
-office how I could manage not to tell the chief, when what did he do
-but spring a proposition on me to go at once to New York and identify
-those men. He apologized tremendously for having to send me right back
-again, but said it was necessary. I told him it just suited me for I
-had affairs of my own that I had not had time to attend to when I was
-there, and would be glad to go back and see to them. That let me out on
-the wedding question for it would be only necessary to tell him I was
-married when I got back. He would never ask when.”
-
-“But the announcements,” said Celia catching her breath laughingly,
-“I never thought of that. We’ll just have to have some kind of
-announcements or my friends will not understand about my new name; and
-we’ll have to send him one, won’t we?”
-
-“Why, I don’t know. Couldn’t we get along without announcements?
-You can explain to your intimate friends, and the others won’t
-ever remember the name after a few months--we’ll not be likely to
-meet many of them right away. I’ll write to my chief and tell him
-informally leaving out the date entirely. He won’t miss it. If we have
-announcements at all we needn’t send him one. He wouldn’t be likely
-ever to see one any other way, or to notice the date. I think we can
-manage that matter. We’ll talk it over with your--” he hesitated and
-then smiling tenderly added, “we’ll talk it over with _mother_. How
-good it sounds to say that. I never knew my mother you know.”
-
-Celia nestled her hands in his and murmured, “Oh, I am so happy,--so
-happy! But I don’t understand how you got a wedding trip without
-telling your chief about our marriage.”
-
-“Easy as anything. He asked me if I would mind running across the
-water to attend to a matter for the service and said I might have extra
-time while there for a vacation. He never suspects that vacation is to
-be used as a wedding trip. I’ll write him, or ’phone him the night we
-leave New York. I may have to stay in the city two or three days to get
-this Holman matter settled, and then we can be off. In the meantime you
-can spend the time reconciling your mother to her new son. Do you think
-we’ll have a very hard time explaining matters to her?”
-
-“Not a bit,” said Celia, gaily. “She never did like George. It was the
-only thing we ever disagreed about, my marrying him. She suspected
-all the time I wasn’t happy and couldn’t understand why I insisted on
-marrying him when I hadn’t seen him for ten years. She begged me to
-wait until he had been back in the country for a year or two, but he
-would not hear to such a thing and threatened to carry out his worst at
-once.”
-
-Gordon’s heart suddenly contracted with righteous wrath over the
-cowardliness of the man who sought to gain his own ends by intimidating
-a woman,--and this woman, so dear, so beautiful, so lovely in her
-nature. It seemed the man’s heart must indeed be black to have done
-what he did. He mentally resolved to search him out and bring him to
-justice as soon as he reached New York. It puzzled him to understand
-how easily he seemed to have abandoned his purposes. Perhaps after
-all he was more of a coward than they thought, and had not dared to
-remain in the country when he found that Celia had braved his wrath and
-married another man. He would find out about him and set the girl’s
-heart at rest just as soon as possible, that any embarrassment at some
-future time might be avoided. Gordon stooped and kissed his wife again,
-a caress that seemed to promise all reparation for the past.
-
-But it suddenly occurred to the two that trains did not wait for
-lovers’ long loitering, and with one accord they went to work. Celia
-of course had very little preparation to make. Her trunk was probably
-in Chicago and would need to be wired for. Gordon attended to that the
-first thing, looking up the number of the check and ordering it back
-to New York by telegraph. Turning from the telephone he rang for the
-man and asked Celia to give the order for lunch while he got together
-some things that he must take with him. A stay of several weeks would
-necessitate a little more baggage than he had taken to New York.
-
-He went into the bedroom and began pulling out things to pack but when
-Celia turned from giving her directions she found him standing in the
-bedroom doorway with an old-fashioned velvet jewel case in his hand
-which he had just taken from the little safe in his room. His face
-wore a wonderful tender light as if he had just discovered something
-precious.
-
-“Dear,” he said, “I wonder if you will care for these. They were
-mother’s. Perhaps this ring will do until I can buy you a new one. See
-if it will fit you. It was my mother’s.”
-
-He held out a ring containing a diamond of singular purity and
-brilliance in quaint old-fashioned setting.
-
-Celia put out her hand with its wedding ring, the ring that he had put
-upon her finger at the altar, and he slipped the other jewelled one
-above it. It fitted perfectly.
-
-“It is a beauty,” breathed Celia, holding out her hand to admire it,
-“and I would far rather have it than a new one. Your dear little
-mother!”
-
-“There’s not much else here but a little string of pearls and a pin or
-two. I have always kept them near me. Somehow they seemed like a link
-between me and mother. I was keeping them for--” he hesitated and then
-giving her a rare smile he finished:
-
-“I was keeping them for you.”
-
-Her answering look was eloquent, and needed no words which was well,
-for Henry appeared at that moment to serve luncheon and remind his
-master that his train left in a little over two hours. There was no
-further time for sentiment.
-
-And yet, these two, it seemed, could not be practical that day. They
-idled over their luncheon and dawdled over their packing, stopping to
-look at this and that picture or bit of bric-a-brac that Gordon had
-picked up in some of his travels; and Henry finally had to take things
-in his own hands, pack them off and send their baggage after them.
-Henry was a capable man and rejoiced to see the devotion of his master
-and his new mistress, but he had a practical head and knew where his
-part came in.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-
-The journey back to New York seemed all too brief for the two whose
-lives had just been blended so unexpectedly, and every mile was filled
-with a new and sweet discovery of delight in one another; and then,
-when they reached the city they rushed in on Mrs. Hathaway and the
-eager young Jeff like two children who had so much to tell they did not
-know where to begin.
-
-Mrs. Hathaway settled the matter by insisting on their going to dinner
-immediately and leaving all explanations until afterward; and with the
-servants present of course there was little that could be said about
-the matter that each one had most at heart. But there was a spirit of
-deep happiness in the atmosphere and one couldn’t possibly entertain
-any fears under the influence of the radiant smiles that passed between
-mother and daughter, husband and wife, brother and sister.
-
-As soon as the meal was concluded the mother led them up to her private
-sitting room, and closing the door she stood facing them all as half
-breathless with the excitement of the moment they stood in a row before
-her:
-
-“My three dear children!” she murmured. Gordon’s eyes lit with joy and
-his heart thrilled with the wonder of it all. Then the mother stepped
-up to him and placing her hand on his arm led him over to the couch and
-made him sit beside her, while the brother and sister sat down together
-close by.
-
-“Now, Cyril, my new son,” said she, deliberately, her eyes resting
-approvingly upon his face, “you may tell me your story. I see my girl
-has lost both head and heart to you and I doubt if she could tell it
-connectedly.”
-
-And while Celia and Jeff were laughing at this Gordon set about his
-task of winning a mother, and incidentally an eager-eyed young brother
-who was more than half committed to his cause already.
-
-Celia watched proudly as her handsome husband took out his credentials,
-and began his explanation.
-
-“First, I must tell you who I am, and these papers will do it better
-than I could. Will you look at them, please?”
-
-He handed her a few letters and papers.
-
-“These papers on the top show the rank and position that my father
-and my grandfather held with the government and in the army. This is
-a letter from the president to my father congratulating him on his
-approaching marriage with my mother. That paper contains my mother’s
-family tree, and the letters with it will give you an idea of the
-honor in which my mother’s family was held in Washington and in
-Virginia, her old home. I know these matters are not of much moment,
-and say nothing whatever about what I am myself, but they are things
-you would have been likely to know about my family if you had known
-me all my life; and at least they will tell you that my family was
-respectable.”
-
-Mrs. Hathaway was examining the papers, and suddenly looked up
-exclaiming: “My dear! My father knew your grandfather. I think I saw
-him once when he came to our home in New York. It was years ago and I
-was a young girl, but I remember he was a fine looking man with keen
-dark eyes, and a heavy head of iron gray hair.”
-
-She looked at Gordon keenly.
-
-“I wonder if your eyes are not like his. It was long ago of course.”
-
-“They used to say I looked like him. I do not remember him. He died
-when I was very young.”
-
-The mother looked up with a pleasant smile.
-
-“Now tell me about yourself,” she said and laid a gentle hand on his.
-
-Gordon looked down, an embarrassed flush spreading over his face.
-
-“There’s nothing great to tell,” he said. “I’ve always tried to live
-a straight true life, and I’ve never been in love with any girl
-before--” he flashed a wonderful, blinding smile upon Celia.
-
-“I was left alone in the world when quite young and have lived around
-in boarding-schools and college. I’m a graduate of Harvard and I’ve
-travelled a little. There was some money left from my father’s estate,
-not much. I’m not rich. I’m a Secret Service man, and I love my work.
-I get a good salary and was this morning promoted to the position next
-in rank to my chief, so that now I shall have still more money. I shall
-be able to make your daughter comfortable and give her some of the
-luxuries, if not all, to which she has been accustomed.”
-
-“My dear boy, that part is not what I am anxious about--” interrupted
-the mother.
-
-“I know,” said Gordon, “but it is a detail you have a right to be told.
-I understand that you care far more what I am than how much money I can
-make, and I promise you I am going to try to be all that you would want
-your daughter’s husband to be. Perhaps the best thing I can say for
-myself is that I love her better than my life, and I mean to make her
-happiness the dearest thing in life to me.”
-
-The mother’s look of deep understanding answered him more eloquently
-than words could have done, and after a moment she spoke again.
-
-“But I do not understand how you could have known one another and I
-never have heard of you. Celia is not good at keeping things from her
-mother, though the last three months she has had a sadness that I could
-not fathom, and was forced to lay to her natural dread of leaving
-home. She seemed so insistent upon having this marriage just as George
-planned it--and I was so afraid she would regret not waiting. How could
-you have known one another all this time and she never talked to me
-about it, and why did George Hayne have any part whatever in it if you
-two loved one another? Just how long have you known each other anyway?
-Did it begin when you visited in Washington last spring, Celia?”
-
-With dancing eyes Celia shook her head.
-
-“No, Mamma. If I had met him then I’m sure George Hayne would never
-have had anything to do with the matter, for Cyril would have known how
-to help me out of my difficulty.”
-
-“I shall have to tell you the whole story from my standpoint, and from
-the beginning,” said Gordon, dreading now that the crisis was upon him,
-what the outcome would be. “I have wanted you to know who and what
-I was before you knew the story, that you might judge me as kindly
-as possible, and know that however I may have been to blame in the
-matter it was through no intention of mine. My story may sound rather
-impossible. I know it will seem improbable, but it is nevertheless
-true, everything that I have to tell. May I hope to be believed?”
-
-“I think you may,” answered the mother searching his face anxiously.
-“Those eyes of yours are not lying eyes.”
-
-“Thank you,” he said simply, and then gathering all his courage he
-plunged into his story.
-
-Mrs. Hathaway was watching him with searching interest. Jeff had drawn
-his chair up close and could scarcely restrain his excitement, and when
-Gordon told of his commission he burst forth explosively:
-
-“Gee! But that was a great stunt! I’d have liked to have been along
-with you! You must be simply great to be trusted with a thing like
-that!”
-
-But his mother gently reproved him:
-
-“Hush, my son, let us hear the story.”
-
-Celia sat quietly watching her husband with pride, two bright spots of
-color on her cheeks, and her hands clasping each other tightly. She was
-hearing many details now that were new to her. Once more, when Gordon
-mentioned the dinner at Holman’s Jeff interrupted with:
-
-“Holman! Holman! Not J. P.? Why of course--we know him! Celia was
-one of his daughter’s bridesmaids last spring! The old lynx! I always
-thought he was crooked! People hint a lot of things about him--”
-
-“Jeff, dear, let us hear the story,” again insisted his mother, and the
-story continued.
-
-Gordon had been looking down as he talked. He dreaded to see their
-faces as the truth should dawn upon them, but when he had told all he
-lifted honest eyes to the white-faced mother and pleaded with her:
-
-“Indeed, indeed, I hope you will believe me, that not until they laid
-your daughter’s hand in mine did I know that I was supposed to be the
-bridegroom. I thought all the time her brother was the bridegroom. If I
-had not been so distraught, and trying so hard to think how to escape,
-I suppose I would have noticed that I was standing next to her, and
-that everything was peculiar about the whole matter, but I didn’t.
-And then when I suddenly knew that she and I were being married, what
-should I have done? Do you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony
-then and there and made a scene before all those people? What was the
-right thing to do? Suppose my commission had been entirely out of the
-question, and I had had no duty toward the government to keep entirely
-quiet about myself, do you think I ought to have made a scene? Would
-you have wanted me to for your daughter’s sake? Tell me please,” he
-insisted, gently.
-
-And while she hesitated he added:
-
-“I did some pretty hard thinking during that first quarter of a second
-that I realized what was happening, and I tell you honestly I didn’t
-know what was the right thing to do. It seemed awful for her sake to
-make a scene, and to tell you the truth I worshipped her from the
-moment my eyes rested upon her. There was something sad and appealing
-as she looked at me that seemed to pledge my very life to save her from
-trouble. Tell me, do you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony
-then at the first moment of my realization that I was being married?”
-
-The mother’s face had softened as she watched him and listened to his
-tender words about Celia and now she answered gently:
-
-“I am not sure--perhaps not! It was a very grave question to face. I
-don’t know that I can blame you for doing nothing. It would have been
-terrible for her and us and everybody and have made it all so public.
-Oh, I think you did right not to do anything publicly--perhaps--and
-yet--it is terrible to me to think you have been forced to marry my
-daughter in that way.”
-
-“Please do not say forced,--_Mother_--” said Gordon laying both hands
-earnestly upon hers and looking into her eyes, “I tell you one thing
-that held me back from doing anything was that I so earnestly desired
-that what I was passing through might be real and lasting. I have
-never seen one like her before. I know that if the mistake had been
-righted and she had passed out of my life I should never have felt
-the same again. I am glad, glad with all my heart that she is mine,
-and--Mother!--I think she is glad too!”
-
-The mother turned toward her daughter, and Celia with starry eyes came
-and knelt before them, and laid her hands in the hands of her husband,
-saying with ringing voice:
-
-“Yes, dear little Mother, I am gladder than I ever was before in my
-life.”
-
-And kneeling thus, with her husband’s arm about her, her face against
-his shoulder, and both her hands clasped in his, she told her mother
-about the tortures that George Hayne had put her through, until the
-mother turned white with horror at what her beloved and cherished child
-had been enduring, and the brother got up and stormed across the floor,
-vowing vengeance on the luckless head of poor George Hayne.
-
-Then after the mother had given her blessing to the two, and Jeff
-had added an original one of his own, there was the whole story of
-the eventful wedding trip to tell, which they both told by solos and
-choruses until the hour grew alarmingly late and the mother suddenly
-sent them all off to bed.
-
-The next few days were both busy and happy ones for the two. They went
-to the hospital and gladdened the life of the little newsboy with fruit
-and toys and many promises; and they brought home a happy white dog
-from his boarding place whom Jeff adopted as his own. Gordon had a
-trying hour or two at court with his one-time host, the scoundrel who
-had stolen the cipher message; and the thick-set man glared at him from
-a cell window as he passed along the corridor of the prison whither he
-had gone in search of George Hayne.
-
-Gordon in his search for the lost bridegroom, whom for many reasons he
-desired to find as soon as possible, had asked the help of one of the
-men at work on the Holman case, in searching for a certain George Hayne
-who needed very much to be brought to justice.
-
-“Oh, you won’t have to search for him,” declared the man with a smile.
-“He’s safely landed in prison three days ago. He was caught as neatly
-as rolling off a log by the son of the man whose name he forged several
-years ago. It was trust money of a big corporation and the man died in
-his place in a prison cell, but the son means to see the real culprit
-punished.”
-
-And so Gordon, in the capacity of Celia’s lawyer, went to the prison
-to talk with George Hayne, and that miserable man found no excuse for
-his sins when the searching talk was over. Gordon did not let the man
-know who he was, and merely made it understood that Celia was married,
-and that if he attempted to make her any further trouble the whole
-thing would be exposed and he would have to answer a grave charge of
-blackmail.
-
-The days passed rapidly, and at last the New York matter for which
-Gordon’s presence was needed was finished, and he was free to sail away
-with his bride. On the morning of their departure Gordon’s voice rang
-out over the miles of telephone wires to his old chief in Washington:
-“I am married and am just starting on my wedding trip. Don’t you want
-to congratulate me?” And the old chief’s gruff voice sounded back:
-
-“Good work, old man! Congratulations for you both. She may or may not
-be the best girl in all the world; I haven’t had a chance to see yet;
-but she’s a lucky girl, for she’s got _the best man I know_. Tell her
-that for me! Bless you both! I’m glad she’s going with you. It won’t be
-so lonesome.”
-
-Gordon gave her the message that afternoon as they sailed straight
-into the sunshine of a new and beautiful life together.
-
-“Dear,” he said, as he arranged her steamer rug more comfortably about
-her, “has it occurred to you that you are probably the only bride who
-ever married the best man at her wedding?”
-
-Celia smiled appreciatively and after a minute replied mischievously:
-
-“I suppose every bride _thinks_ her husband is the best man.”
-
-
-
-
-TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
-
-
- Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
-
- Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
-
- Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
-
- Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
-
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The best man, by Grace Livingston Hill Lutz</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The best man</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Grace Livingston Hill Lutz</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Gayle Hoskins</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 9, 2022 [eBook #69514]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Most recently updated: February 2, 2023</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Steve Mattern, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST MAN ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" alt=""></div>
-<p class="caption">Before she could reply, the express train roared above them<br>
-
-<span class="illoright"><i>Page <a href="#Page_151">151</a></i></span></p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt=""></div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-<div class="titlepage">
-<h1>THE BEST MAN</h1>
-
-<p>BY<br>
-<span class="large">GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ</span><br>
-
-AUTHOR OF<br>
-VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p>
-
-<p>FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR BY<br>
-<span class="large">GAYLE HOSKINS</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt=""></div>
-
-<p><span class="large">GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</span><br>
-PUBLISHERS &#160; &#160; NEW YORK</p>
-
-<p>Made in the United States of America</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="center">
-COPYRIGHT, 1913. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br>
-COPYRIGHT, 1914. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-PUBLISHED JANUARY, 1914</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="ph3">The Best Man</p>
-
-<p class="center">SIXTH EDITION</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>
-
-<p class="ph2">THE BEST MAN</p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Cyril Gordon</span> had been seated at his desk but
-ten minutes and was deep in the morning’s mail
-when there came an urgent message from his chief,
-summoning him to an immediate audience in the
-inner office.</p>
-
-<p>The chief had keen blue eyes and shaggy eyebrows.
-He never wasted words; yet those words
-when spoken had more weight than those of most
-other men in Washington.</p>
-
-<p>There was the briefest of good-morning gleams
-in his nod and glance, but he only said:</p>
-
-<p>“Gordon, can you take the Pennsylvania train
-for New York that leaves the station in thirty-two
-minutes?”</p>
-
-<p>The young man was used to abrupt questions
-from his chief, but he caught his breath, mentally
-surveying his day as it had been planned:</p>
-
-<p>“Why, sir, I suppose I could—if it is necessary——”
-He hesitated.</p>
-
-<p>“It is necessary,” said the chief curtly, as if that
-settled the matter.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>“But—half an hour!” ejaculated Gordon in dismay.
-“I could hardly get to my rooms and back
-to the station. I don’t see how—— Isn’t there a
-train a little later?”</p>
-
-<p>“Later train won’t do. Call up your man on
-the ’phone. Tell him to pack your bag and meet
-you at the station in twenty minutes. You’ll need
-evening clothes. Can you depend on your man to
-get your things quickly without fail?”</p>
-
-<p>There was that in the tone of the chief that
-caused Gordon to make no further demur.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure!” he responded with his usual business-like
-tone, as he strode to the ’phone. His daze was
-passing off. “Evening clothes?” he questioned
-curiously, as if he might not have heard aright.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, evening clothes,” was the curt answer,
-“and everything you’ll need for daytime for a respectable
-gentleman of leisure—a tourist, you understand.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon perceived that he was being given a mission
-of trust and importance, not unmixed with
-mystery perhaps. He was new in the secret service,
-and it had been his ambition to rise in his chief’s
-good graces. He rang the telephone bell furiously
-and called up the number of his own apartments, giving
-his man orders in a breezy, decisive tone that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
-caused a look of satisfaction to settle about the
-fine wrinkles of the chief’s eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s watch was out and he was telling his
-man on just what car he must leave the apartments
-for the station. The chief noted it was two cars
-ahead of what would have been necessary. His
-gray head gave an almost imperceptible nod of commendation,
-and his eyes showed that he was content
-with his selection of a man.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, sir,” said Gordon, as he hung up the
-receiver, “I’m ready for orders.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you are to go to New York, and take
-a cab for the Cosmopolis Hotel—your room there
-is already secured by wire. Your name is John
-Burnham. The name of the hotel and the number
-of your room are on this memorandum. You will
-find awaiting you an invitation to dine this evening
-with a Mr. Holman, who knows of you as an expert
-in code-reading. Our men met him on the train
-an hour ago and arranged that he should invite you.
-He didn’t know whom they represented, of course.
-He has already tried to ’phone you at the hotel about
-coming to dinner to-night. He knows you are expected
-there before evening. Here is a letter of
-introduction to him from a man he knows. Our
-men got that also. It is genuine, of course.</p>
-
-<p>“Last night a message of national importance,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
-written in cipher, was stolen from one of our men
-before it had been read. This is now in the hands
-of Holman, who is hoping to have you decipher it
-for him and a few guests who will also be present
-at dinner. They wish to use it for their own purposes.
-Your commission is to get hold of the message
-and bring it to us as soon as possible. Another
-message of very different import, written
-upon the same kind of paper, is in this envelope,
-with a translation for you to use in case you have
-to substitute a message. You will have to use your
-own wits and judgment. The main thing is, <i>get the
-paper</i>, and <i>get back with it</i>, with as little delay as
-possible. Undoubtedly your life will be in danger
-should it be discovered that you have made off with
-it. Spare no care to protect yourself <i>and the message</i>,
-at all hazards. Remember, I said, <i>and the message</i>,
-young man! It means much to the country.</p>
-
-<p>“In this envelope is money—all you will probably
-need. Telegraph or ’phone to this address if
-you are in trouble. Draw on us for more, if necessary,
-also through this same address. Here is the
-code you can use in case you find it necessary to telegraph.
-Your ticket is already bought. I have sent
-Clarkson to the station for it, and he will meet
-you at the train. You can give him instructions in
-case you find you have forgotten anything. Take<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
-your mail with you, and telegraph back orders to
-your stenographer. I think that is all. Oh, yes,
-to-night, while you are at dinner, you will be called
-to the ’phone by one of our men. If you are in
-trouble, this may give you opportunity to get away,
-and put us wise. You will find a motor at the door
-now, waiting to take you to the station. If your
-man doesn’t get there with your things, take the
-train, anyway, and buy some more when you get
-to New York. Don’t turn aside from your commission
-for anything. Don’t let <i>anything</i> hinder you!
-Make it a matter of life and death! Good-morning,
-and good luck!”</p>
-
-<p>The chief held out a big, hairy hand that was
-surprisingly warm and soft considering the hardness
-of his face and voice, and the young man
-grasped it, feeling as if he were suddenly being
-plunged into waves of an unknown depth and he
-would fain hold on to this strong hand.</p>
-
-<p>He went out of the office quietly enough, and the
-keen old eyes watched him knowingly, understanding
-the beating of the heart under Gordon’s well-fitting
-business coat, the mingled elation and dread
-over the commission. But there had been no hesitancy,
-no question of acceptance, when the nature
-of the commission was made known. The young
-man was “game.” He would do. Not even an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>
-eyelash had flickered at the hint of danger. The
-chief felt he would be faithful even in the face of
-possible death.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s man came rushing into the station just
-after he reached there himself. Clarkson was
-already there with the ticket. Gordon had time to
-scribble a message to Julia Bentley, whose perfumed
-scrawl he had read on the way down. Julia had
-bidden him to her presence that evening. He could
-not tell whether he was relieved or sorry to tell her
-he could not come. It began to look to him a good
-deal as if he would ask Julia Bentley to marry him
-some day, when she got tired of playing all the others
-off against him, and he could make up his mind to
-surrender his freedom to any woman.</p>
-
-<p>He bought a paper and settled himself comfortably
-in the parlor-car, but his interest was not in the
-paper. His strange commission engaged all his
-thoughts. He took out the envelope containing instructions
-and went over the matter, looking curiously
-at the cipher message and its translation,
-which, however, told him nothing. It was the old
-chief’s way to keep the business to himself until
-such time as he chose to explain. Doubtless it was
-safer for both message and messenger that he did
-not know the full import of what he was undertaking.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>Gordon carefully noted down everything that
-his chief had told him, comparing it with the written
-instructions in the envelope; arranged in his mind
-just how he would proceed when he reached New
-York; tried to think out a good plan for recovering
-the stolen message, but could not; and so decided
-to trust to the inspiration of the moment. Then it
-occurred to him to clear his overcoat pockets of any
-letters or other tell-tale articles and stow them in
-his suit-case. He might have to leave his overcoat
-behind him. So it would be well to have no clues for
-anyone to follow.</p>
-
-<p>Having arranged these matters, and prepared a
-few letters with notes for his stenographer, to be
-mailed back to her from Philadelphia, he reread
-Julia Bentley’s note. When every angular line of
-her tall script was imprinted on his memory, he
-tore the perfumed note into tiny pieces and dropped
-them from the car window.</p>
-
-<p>The question was, did he or did he not want to
-ask Julia Bentley to become his wife? He had no
-doubt as to what her answer would be. Julia had
-made it pretty plain to him that she would rather
-have him than any of her other admirers; though
-she did like to keep them all attendant upon her.
-Well, that was her right so long as she was unmarried.
-He had no fault to find with her. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>
-was a fine girl, and everybody liked her. Also, she
-was of a good family, and with a modest fortune
-in her own right. Everybody was taking it for
-granted that they liked each other. It was time he
-was married and had a real home, he supposed,
-whatever that was—that seemed to have so great
-a charm for all his friends. To his eyes, it had as
-yet taken on no alluring mirage effect. He had
-never known a real home, more than his quiet bachelor
-apartments were to him now, where his man
-ordered everything as he was told, and the meals
-were sent up when wanted. He had money enough
-from his inheritance to make things more than comfortable,
-and he was deeply interested in the profession
-he had chosen.</p>
-
-<p>Still, if he was ever going to marry, it was high
-time, of course. But did he want Julia? He could
-not quite make it seem pleasant to think of her
-in his rooms when he came home at night
-tired; she would always be wanting to go to her
-endless theatre parties and receptions and dances;
-always be demanding his attention. She was bright
-and handsome and well dressed, but he had never
-made love to her. He could not quite imagine himself
-doing so. How did men make love, anyway?
-Could one call it love when it was “made” love?
-These questions followed one another idly through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>
-his brain as the landscape whirled past him. If he
-had stayed at home, he would have spent the evening
-with Julia, as she requested in her note, and there
-would probably have been a quiet half-hour after
-other callers had gone when he would have stayed
-as he had been doing of late, and tried to find out
-whether he really cared for her or not.</p>
-
-<p>Suppose, for instance, they were married, and
-she sat beside him now. Would any glad thrill fill
-his heart as he looked at her beautiful face and realized
-that she was his? He tried to look over toward
-the next chair and imagine that the tired, fat old
-lady with the double chin and the youthful purple
-hat was Julia, but that would not work. He whirled
-his chair about and tried it on an empty chair. That
-went better; but still no thrill of joy lifted him out
-of his sordid self. He could not help thinking about
-little trying details. The way Julia looked when
-she was vexed. Did one mind that in the woman
-one loved? The way she ordered her coachman
-about. Would she ever speak so to her husband?
-She had a charming smile, but her frown was—well—unbecoming
-to say the least.</p>
-
-<p>He tried to keep up the fallacy of her presence.
-He bought a magazine that he knew she liked, and
-read a story to her (in imagination). He could
-easily tell how her black eyes would snap at certain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
-phrases she disliked. He knew just what her comment
-would be upon the heroine’s conduct. It was
-an old disputed point between them. He knew
-how she would criticize the hero, and somehow he
-felt himself in the hero’s place every time she did
-it. The story had not been a success, and he felt
-a weariness as he laid the magazine aside at the call
-for dinner from the dining-car.</p>
-
-<p>Before he had finished his luncheon he had begun
-to feel that though Julia might think now that
-she would like to marry him, the truth about it was
-that she would not enjoy the actual life together
-any better than he would. Were all marriages like
-that? Did people lose the glamour and just settle
-down to endure each other’s faults and make the
-most of each other’s pleasant side, and not have
-anything more? Or was he getting cynical? Had
-he lived alone too long, as his friends sometimes
-told him, and so was losing the ability really to love
-anybody but himself? He knit his brows, and got
-up whistling to go out and see why the train had
-stopped so long in this little country settlement.</p>
-
-<p>It was just beyond Princeton, and they were not
-far now from New York. It would be most annoying
-to be delayed so near to his destination. He
-was anxious to get things in train for his evening of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
-hard work. It was necessary to find out how the
-land lay as soon as possible.</p>
-
-<p>It appeared that there was a wrecked freight
-ahead of them, and there would be delay. No one
-knew just how long; it would depend on how soon
-the wrecking train arrived to help.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon walked nervously up and down the grass
-at the side of the track, looking anxiously each way
-for sign of the wrecking train. The thought of
-Julia did occur to him, but he put it impatiently
-away, for he knew just how poorly Julia would bear
-a delay on a journey even in his company. He had
-been with her once when the engine got off the track
-on a short trip down to a Virginia house-party, and
-she was the most impatient creature alive, although
-it mattered not one whit to any of the rest of the
-party whether they made merry on the train or at
-their friend’s house. And yet, if Julia were anything
-at all to him, would not he like the thought
-of her companionship now?</p>
-
-<p>A great white dog hobbled up to him and fawned
-upon him as he turned to go back to the train, and
-he laid his hand kindly upon the animal’s head, and
-noted the wistful eyes upon his face. He was a
-noble dog, and Gordon stood for a moment fondling
-him. Then he turned impatiently and tramped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>
-back to his car again. But when he reached the steps
-he found that the dog had followed him.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon frowned, half in annoyance, half in
-amusement, and sitting down on a log by the wayside
-he took the dog’s pink nozzle into his hands,
-caressing the white fur above it gently.</p>
-
-<p>The dog whined happily, and Gordon meditated.
-How long would the train wait? Would he miss
-getting to New York in time for the dinner? Would
-he miss the chance to rise in his chief’s good graces?
-The chief would expect him to get to New York
-some other way if the train were delayed. How
-long ought he to wait on possibilities?</p>
-
-<p>All at once he saw the conductor and trainmen
-coming back hurriedly. Evidently the train was
-about to start. With a final kindly stroke of the
-white head, he called a workman nearby, handed
-him half a dollar to hold the dog, and sprang on
-board.</p>
-
-<p>He had scarcely settled himself into his chair,
-however, before the dog came rushing up the aisle
-from the other end of the car, and precipitated
-himself muddily and noisily upon him.</p>
-
-<p>With haste and perturbation Gordon hurried the
-dog to the door and tried to fling him off, but the
-poor creature pulled back and clung to the platform
-yelping piteously.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>Just then the conductor came from the other
-car and looked at him curiously.</p>
-
-<p>“No dogs allowed in these cars,” he said gruffly.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, if you know how to enforce that rule
-I wish you would,” said Gordon. “I’m sure I
-don’t know what to do with him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where has he been since you left Washington?”
-asked the grim conductor with suspicion in
-his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I certainly haven’t had him secreted about me,
-a dog of that size,” remarked the young man dryly.
-“Besides, he isn’t my dog. I never saw him before
-till he followed me at the station. I’m as anxious
-to be rid of him as he is to stay.”</p>
-
-<p>The conductor eyed the young man keenly, and
-then allowed a grim sense of humor to appear in one
-corner of his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“Got a chain or a rope for him?” he asked
-more sympathetically.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, no,” remarked the unhappy attaché of
-the dog. “Not having had an appointment with the
-dog I didn’t provide myself with a leash for him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Take him into the baggage-car,” said the conductor
-briefly, and slammed his way into the next
-car.</p>
-
-<p>There seemed nothing else to be done, but it was
-most annoying to be thus forced on the notice of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>
-his fellow-travellers, when his commission required
-that he be as inconspicuous as possible.</p>
-
-<p>At Jersey City he hoped to escape and leave the
-dog to the tender mercies of the baggage man, but
-that official was craftily waiting for him and handed
-the animal over to his unwilling master with a satisfaction
-ill-proportioned to the fee he had received
-for caring for him.</p>
-
-<p>Then began a series of misfortunes. Disappointment
-and suspicion stalked beside him, and
-behind him a voice continually whispered his chief’s
-last injunction: “Don’t let anything hinder you!”</p>
-
-<p>Frantically he tried first one place and then another,
-but all to no effect. Nobody apparently
-wanted to care for a stray white dog, and his very
-haste aroused suspicion. Once he came near being
-arrested as a dog thief. He could not get rid of that
-dog! Yet he must not let him follow him! Would
-he have to have the animal sent home to Washington
-as the only solution of the problem? Then a queer
-fancy seized him that just in some such way had
-Miss Julia Bentley been shadowing his days for
-nearly three years now; and he had actually this
-very day been considering calmly whether he might
-not have to marry her, just because she was so persistent
-in her taking possession of him. Not that
-she was unladylike, of course; no, indeed! She was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>
-stately and beautiful, and had never offended. But
-she had always quietly, persistently, taken it for
-granted that he would be her attendant whenever she
-chose; and she always chose whenever he was in the
-least inclined to enjoy any other woman’s company.</p>
-
-<p>He frowned at himself. Was there something
-weak about his character that a woman or a dog
-could so easily master him? Would any other employee
-in the office, once trusted with his great commission,
-have allowed it to be hindered by a dog?</p>
-
-<p>Gordon could not afford to waste any more time.
-He must get rid of him at once!</p>
-
-<p>The express office would not take a dog without
-a collar and chain unless he was crated; and the
-delays and exasperating hindrances seemed to be
-interminable. But at last, following the advice of a
-kindly officer, he took the dog to an institution in
-New York where, he was told, dogs were boarded
-and cared for, and where he finally disposed of him,
-having first paid ten dollars for the privilege. As
-he settled back in a taxicab with his watch in his
-hand, he congratulated himself that he had still
-ample time to reach his hotel and get into evening
-dress before he must present himself for his work.</p>
-
-<p>Within three blocks of the hotel the cab came
-to such a sudden standstill that Gordon was thrown
-to his knees.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">They</span> were surrounded immediately by a crowd
-in which policemen were a prominent feature. The
-chauffeur seemed dazed in the hands of the officers.</p>
-
-<p>A little, barefoot, white-faced figure huddled
-limply in the midst showed Gordon what had happened:
-also there were menacing glances towards
-himself and a show of lifted stones. He heard
-one boy say: “You bet he’s in a hurry to git away.
-Them kind allus is. They don’t care who they kills,
-they don’t!”</p>
-
-<p>A great horror seized him. The cab had run
-over a newsboy and perhaps killed him. Yet instantly
-came the remembrance of his commission:
-“Don’t let anything hinder you. Make it a matter
-of life and death!” Well, it looked as if this was
-a matter of death that hindered him now.</p>
-
-<p>They bundled the moaning boy into the taxicab
-and as Gordon saw no escape through the tightly
-packed crowd, who eyed him suspiciously, he
-climbed in beside the grimy little scrap of unconscious
-humanity, and they were off to the hospital
-to the tune of “Don’t let anything hinder you!
-Don’t let anything hinder you!” until Gordon felt
-that if it did not stop soon he would go crazy. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>
-meditated opening the cab door and making his
-escape in spite of the speed they were making, but
-a vision of broken legs and a bed in the hospital for
-himself held him to his seat. One of the policemen
-had climbed on in front with the chauffeur, and now
-and again he glanced back as if he were conveying
-a couple of prisoners to jail. It was vexatious beyond
-anything! And all on account of that white dog!
-Could anything be more ridiculous than the whole
-performance?</p>
-
-<p>His annoyance and irritation almost made him
-forget that it was his progress through the streets
-that had silenced this mite beside him. But just as
-he looked at his watch for the fifth time the boy
-opened his eyes and moaned, and there was in those
-eyes a striking resemblance to the look in the eyes
-of the dog of whose presence he had but just rid
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon started. In spite of himself it seemed
-as if the dog were reproaching him through the
-eyes of the child. Then suddenly the boy spoke.</p>
-
-<p>“Will yous stay by me till I’m mended?” whispered
-the weak little voice.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s heart leaped in horror again, and it
-came to him that he was being tried out this day
-to see if he had the right stuff in him for hard tasks.
-The appeal in the little street-boy’s eyes reached<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>
-him as no request had ever yet done, and yet he
-might not answer it. Duty,—life and death duty,—called
-him elsewhere, and he must leave the little
-fellow whom he had been the involuntary cause of
-injuring, to suffer and perhaps to die. It cut him
-to the quick not to respond to that urgent appeal.</p>
-
-<p>Was it because he was weary that he was visited
-just then by a vision of Julia Bentley with her
-handsome lips curled scornfully? Julia Bentley
-would not have approved of his stopping to carry
-a boy to the hospital, any more than to care for a
-dog’s comfort.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here, kiddie,” he said gently, leaning
-over the child, “I’d stay by you if I could, but I’ve
-already made myself late for an appointment by
-coming so far with you. Do you know what Duty
-is?”</p>
-
-<p>The child nodded sorrowfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t yous mind me,” he murmured weakly.
-“Just yous go. I’m game all right.” Then the
-voice trailed off into silence again, and the eyelids
-fluttered down upon the little, grimy, unconscious
-face.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon went into the hospital for a brief moment
-to leave some money in the hands of the
-authorities for the benefit of the boy, and a message<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>
-that he would return in a week or two if possible;
-then hurried away.</p>
-
-<p>Back in the cab once more, he felt as if he had
-killed a man and left him lying by the roadside while
-he continued his unswerving march toward the
-hideous duty which was growing momently more
-portentous, and to be relieved of which he would
-gladly have surrendered further hope of his chief’s
-favor. He closed his eyes and tried to think, but all
-the time the little white face of the child came before
-his vision, and the mocking eyes of Julia Bentley
-tantalized him, as if she were telling him that he had
-spoiled all his chances—and hers—by his foolish
-soft-heartedness. Though, what else could he have
-done than he had done, he asked himself fiercely.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at his watch. It was at least ten
-minutes’ ride to the hotel, the best time they could
-make. Thanks to his man the process of dressing
-for evening would not take long, for he knew that
-everything would be in place and he would not be
-hindered. He would make short work of his toilet.
-But there was his suit-case. It would not do to leave
-it at the hotel, neither must he take it with him to the
-house where he was to be a guest. There was nothing
-for it but to go around by the way of the station
-where it would have to be checked. That meant a
-longer ride and more delay, but it must be done.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>Arrived at the hotel at last and in the act of
-signing the unaccustomed “John Burnham” in the
-hotel registry, there came a call to the telephone.</p>
-
-<p>With a hand that trembled from excitement he
-took the receiver. His breath went from him as
-though he had just run up five flights of stairs.
-“Yes? Hello! Oh, Mrs. Holman. Yes! Burnham.
-I’ve but just arrived. I was delayed. A
-wreck ahead of the train. Very kind of you to invite
-me, I’m sure. Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments,
-as soon as I can get rid of the dust of travel. Thank
-you. Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>It all sounded very commonplace to the clerk,
-who was making out bills and fretting because he
-could not get off to take his girl to the theatre that
-night, but as Gordon hung up the receiver he looked
-around furtively as if expecting to see a dozen detectives
-ready to seize upon him. It was the first time
-he had ever undertaken a commission under an
-assumed name and he felt as if he were shouting
-his commission through the streets of New York.</p>
-
-<p>The young man made short work of his toilet.
-Just as he was leaving the hotel a telegram was
-handed him. It was from his chief, and so worded
-that to the operator who had copied it down it read
-like a hasty call to Boston; but to his code-enlightened
-eyes it was merely a blind to cover his exit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>
-from the hotel and from New York, and set any possible
-hunters on a wrong scent. He marvelled at the
-wonderful mind of his chief, who thought out every
-detail of an important campaign, and forgot not one
-little possible point where difficulty might arise.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had a nervous feeling as he again stepped
-into a taxicab and gave his order. He wondered
-how many stray dogs, and newsboys with broken
-legs, would attach themselves to him on the way to
-dinner. Whenever the speed slowed down, or they
-were halted by cars and autos, his heart pounded
-painfully, lest something new had happened, but he
-arrived safely and swiftly at the station, checked
-his suit-case, and took another cab to the residence
-of Mr. Holman, without further incident.</p>
-
-<p>The company were waiting for him, and after
-the introductions they went immediately to the dining-room.
-Gordon took his seat with the feeling
-that he had bungled everything hopelessly, and had
-arrived so late that there was no possible hope of
-his doing what he had been sent to do. For the first
-few minutes his thoughts were a jumble, and his
-eyes dazed with the brilliant lights of the room. He
-could not single out the faces of the people present
-and differentiate them one from another. His heart
-beat painfully against the stiff expanse of evening
-linen. It almost seemed as if those near him could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>
-hear it. He found himself starting and stammering
-when he was addressed as “Mr. Burnham.” His
-thoughts were mingled with white dogs, newsboys,
-and ladies with scornful smiles.</p>
-
-<p>He was seated on the right of his hostess, and
-gradually her gentle manners gave him quietness.
-He began to gain control of himself, and now he
-seemed to see afar the keen eye of his chief watching
-the testing of his new commissioner. His heart
-swelled to meet the demand made upon him. A
-strong purpose came to him to rise above all obstacles
-and conquer in spite of circumstances. He must
-forget everything else and rise to the occasion.</p>
-
-<p>From that moment the dancing lights that multiplied
-themselves in the glittering silver and cut
-glass of the table began to settle into order; and
-slowly, one by one, the conglomeration of faces
-around the board resolved itself into individuals.</p>
-
-<p>There was the pretty, pale hostess, whose gentle
-ways seemed hardly to fit with her large, boisterous,
-though polished husband. Unscrupulousness was
-written all over his ruddy features, also a certain
-unhidden craftiness which passed for geniality
-among his kind.</p>
-
-<p>There were two others with faces full of cunning,
-both men of wealth and culture. One did not
-think of the word “refinement” in connection with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
-them; still, that might be conceded also; but it was
-all dominated by the cunning that on this occasion,
-at least, was allowed to sit unmasked upon their
-countenances. They had outwitted an enemy, and
-they were openly exultant.</p>
-
-<p>Of the other guests, one was very young and
-sleek, with eyes that had early learned to evade;
-one was old and weary-looking, with a hunted expression;
-one was thick-set, with little eyes set close
-in a fat, selfish face. Gordon began to understand
-that these three but did the bidding of the others.
-They listened to the conversation merely from a
-business standpoint and not with any personal
-interest. They were there because they were needed,
-and not because they were desired.</p>
-
-<p>There was one bond which they seemed to hold
-in common: an alert readiness to combine for their
-mutual safety. This did not manifest itself in anything
-tangible, but the guest felt that it was there
-and ready to spring upon him at any instant.</p>
-
-<p>All this came gradually to the young man as the
-meal with its pleasant formalities began. As yet
-nothing had been said about the reason for his
-being there.</p>
-
-<p>“Did you tell me you were in a wreck?” suddenly
-asked the hostess sweetly, turning to him,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
-and the table talk hushed instantly while the host
-asked: “A wreck! Was it serious?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon perceived his mistake at once. With
-instant caution, he replied smilingly, “Oh, nothing
-serious, a little break-down on a freight ahead, which
-required time to patch up. It reminded me——”
-and then he launched boldly into one of the bright
-dinner stories for which he was noted among his
-companions at home. His heart was beating wildly,
-but he succeeded in turning the attention of the table
-to his joke, instead of to asking from where he had
-come and on what road. Questions about himself
-were dangerous he plainly saw, if he would get
-possession of the valued paper and get away without
-leaving a trail behind him. He succeeded in one
-thing more, which, though he did not know it, was
-the very thing his chief had hoped he would do when
-he chose him instead of a man who had wider experience;
-he made every man at the table feel that
-he was delightful, a man to be thoroughly trusted
-and enjoyed; who would never suspect them of having
-any ulterior motives in anything they were doing.</p>
-
-<p>The conversation for a little time rippled with
-bright stories and repartee, and Gordon began to
-feel almost as if he were merely enjoying a social
-dinner at home, with Julia Bentley down the table
-listening and haughtily smiling her approval. For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>
-the time the incidents of the dog and the newsboy
-were forgotten, and the young man felt his self-respect
-rising. His heart was beginning to get
-into normal action again and he could control his
-thoughts. Then suddenly, the crisis arrived.</p>
-
-<p>The soup and fish courses had been disposed of,
-and the table was being prepared for the entrée.
-The host leaned back genially in his chair and said,
-“By the way, Mr. Burnham, did you know I had
-an axe to grind in asking you here this evening?
-That sounds inhospitable, doesn’t it? But I’m sure
-we’re all grateful to the axe that has given us the
-opportunity of meeting you. We are delighted at
-having discovered you.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon bowed, smiling at the compliment, and
-the murmurs of hearty assent around the table
-showed him that he had begun well. If only he
-could keep it up! But how, <i>how</i>, was he to get
-possession of that magic bit of paper and take it
-away with him?</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Burnham, I was delighted to learn through
-a friend that you are an expert in code-reading.
-I wonder, did the message that my friend Mr. Burns
-sent you this morning give you any intimation that
-I wanted you to do me a favor?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon bowed again. “Yes: it was intimated
-to me that you had some message you would like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
-deciphered, and I have also a letter of introduction
-from Mr. Burns.”</p>
-
-<p>Here Gordon took the letter of introduction
-from his pocket and handed it across the table to his
-host, who opened it genially, as if it were hardly
-necessary to read what was written within since they
-already knew so delightfully the man whom it introduced.
-The duplicate cipher writing in Gordon’s
-pocket crackled knowingly when he settled his coat
-about him again, as if it would say, “My time is
-coming! It is almost here now.”</p>
-
-<p>The young man wondered how he was to get it
-out without being seen, in case he should want to
-use it, but he smiled pleasantly at his host with no
-sign of the perturbation he was feeling.</p>
-
-<p>“You see,” went on Mr. Holman, “we have an
-important message which we cannot read, and our
-expert who understands all these matters is out of
-town and cannot return for some time. It is necessary
-that we know as soon as possible the import
-of this writing.”</p>
-
-<p>While he was speaking Mr. Holman drew from
-his pocket a long, soft leather wallet and took therefrom
-a folded paper which Gordon at once recognized
-as the duplicate of the one he carried in his
-pocket. His head seemed to reel, and all the lights
-go dark before him as he reached a cold hand out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
-for the paper. He saw in it his own advancement
-coming to his eager grasp, yet when he got it would
-he be able to hold it? Something of the coolness
-of a man facing a terrible danger came to him now.
-By sheer force of will he held his trembling fingers
-steady as he took the bit of paper and opened it
-carelessly, as if he had never heard of it before, saying
-as he did so:</p>
-
-<p>“I will do my best.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a sudden silence as every eye was
-fixed upon him while he unfolded the paper. He
-gave one swift glance about the table before he
-dropped his eyes to the task. Every face held the
-intensity of almost terrible eagerness, and on every
-one but that of the gentle hostess sat cunning—craft
-that would stop at nothing to serve its own
-ends. It was a moment of almost awful import.</p>
-
-<p>The next instant Gordon’s glance went down to
-the paper in his hand, and his brain and heart were
-seized in the grip of fright. There was no other
-word to describe his feeling. The message before
-him was clearly written in the code of the home
-office, and the words stared at him plainly without
-the necessity of study. The import of them was the
-revelation of one of the most momentous questions
-that had to do with the Secret Service work, a question
-the answer to which had puzzled the entire<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
-department for weeks. That answer he now held
-in his hand, and he knew that if it should come to
-the knowledge of those outside before it had done
-its work through the department it would result in
-dire calamity to the cause of righteousness in the
-country, and incidentally crush the inefficient messenger
-who allowed it to become known. For the
-instant Gordon felt unequal to the task before him.
-How could he keep these bloodhounds at bay—for
-such they were, he perceived from the import of the
-message, bloodhounds who were getting ill-gotten
-gains from innocent and unsuspecting victims—some
-of them little children.</p>
-
-<p>But the old chief had picked his man well. Only
-for an instant the glittering lights darkened before
-his eyes and the cold perspiration started. Then he
-rallied his forces and looked up. The welfare of a
-nation’s honor was in his hands, and he would be
-true. It was a matter of life and death, and he
-would save it or lose his own life if need be.</p>
-
-<p>He summoned his ready smile.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be glad to serve you if I can,” he said.
-“Of course I’d like to look this over a few minutes
-before attempting to read it. Codes are different,
-you know, from one another, but there is a key to
-them all if one can just find it out. This looks as
-if it might be very simple.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>The spell of breathlessness was broken. The
-guests relaxed and went on with their dinner.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon, meanwhile, tried coolly to keep up a
-pretense of eating, the paper held in one hand while
-he seemed to be studying it. Once he turned it over
-and looked on the back. There was a large cross-mark
-in red ink at the upper end. He looked at it
-curiously and then instinctively at his host.</p>
-
-<p>“That is my own mark,” said Mr. Holman. “I
-put it there to distinguish it from other papers.”
-He was smiling politely, but he might as well have
-said, “I put it there to identify it in case of theft;”
-for every one at the table, unless it might be his
-wife, understood that that was what he meant. Gordon
-felt it and was conscious of the other paper
-in his vest-pocket. The way was going to be most
-difficult.</p>
-
-<p>Among the articles in the envelope which the
-chief had given him before his departure from
-Washington were a pair of shell-rimmed eye-glasses,
-a false mustache, a goatee, and a pair of eyebrows.
-He had laughed at the suggestion of high-tragedy
-contained in the disguise, but had brought them with
-him for a possible emergency. The eye-glasses were
-tucked into the vest-pocket beside the duplicate
-paper. He bethought himself of them now. Could
-he, under cover of taking them out, manage to exchange<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
-the papers? And if he should, how about
-that red-ink mark across the back? Would anyone
-notice its absence? It was well to exchange the
-papers as soon as possible before the writing had
-been studied by those at the table, for he knew that
-the other message, though resembling this one in
-general words, differed enough to attract the attention
-of a close observer. Dared he risk their noticing
-the absence of the red cross on the back?</p>
-
-<p>Slowly, cautiously, under cover of the conversation,
-he managed to get that duplicate paper out
-of his pocket and under the napkin in his lap. This
-he did with one hand, all the time ostentatiously
-holding the code message in the other hand, with its
-back to the people at the table. This hand meanwhile
-also held his coat lapel out that he might the
-more easily search his vest-pockets for the glasses.
-It all looked natural. The hostess was engaged in
-a whispered conversation with the maid at the
-moment. The host and other guests were finishing
-the exceedingly delicious patties on their plates, and
-the precious code message was safely in evidence,
-red cross and all. They saw no reason to be suspicious
-about the stranger’s hunt for his glasses.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, here they are!” he said, quite unconcernedly,
-and put on the glasses to look more closely
-at the paper, spreading it smoothly on the table cloth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
-before him, and wondering how he should get it
-into his lap in place of the one that now lay quietly
-under his napkin.</p>
-
-<p>The host and the guests politely refrained from
-talking to Gordon and told each other incidents of
-the day in low tones that indicated the non-importance
-of what they were saying; while they waited
-for the real business of the hour.</p>
-
-<p>Then the butler removed the plates, pausing beside
-Gordon waiting punctiliously with his silver
-tray to brush away the crumbs.</p>
-
-<p>This was just what Gordon waited for. It had
-come to him as the only way. Courteously he drew
-aside, lifting the paper from the table and putting
-it in his lap, for just the instant while the butler did
-his work; but in that instant the paper with the red
-cross was slipped under the napkin, and the other
-paper took its place upon the table, back down so
-that its lack of a red cross could not be noted.</p>
-
-<p>So far, so good, but how long could this be kept
-up? And the paper under the napkin—how was it
-to be got into his pocket? His hands were like
-ice now, and his brain seemed to be at boiling heat
-as he sat back and realized that the deed was done,
-and could not be undone. If anyone should pick
-up that paper from the table and discover the lack of
-the red mark, it would be all up with him. He looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
-up for an instant to meet the gaze of the six men
-upon him. They had nothing better to do now than
-to look at him until the next course arrived. He
-realized that not one of them would have mercy
-upon him if they knew what he had done, not one
-unless it might be the tired, old-looking one, and he
-would not dare interfere.</p>
-
-<p>Still Gordon was enabled to smile, and to say
-some pleasant nothings to his hostess when she
-passed him the salted almonds. His hand lay carelessly
-guarding the secret of the paper on the table,
-innocently, as though it just <i>happened</i> that he laid
-it on the paper.</p>
-
-<p>Sitting thus with the real paper in his lap under
-his large damask napkin, the false paper under his
-hand on the table where he from time to time perused
-it, and his eye-glasses which made him look
-most distinguished still on his nose, he heard the
-distant telephone bell ring.</p>
-
-<p>He remembered the words of his chief and sat
-rigid. From his position he could see the tall clock
-in the hall, and its gilded hands pointed to ten
-minutes before seven. It was about the time his
-chief had said he would be called on the telephone.
-What should he do with the two papers?</p>
-
-<p>He had but an instant to think until the well-trained
-butler returned and announced that some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
-one wished to speak with Mr. Burnham on the
-telephone. His resolve was taken. He would have
-to leave the substitute paper on the table. To carry
-it away with him might arouse suspicion, and, moreover,
-he could not easily manage both without being
-noticed. The real paper must be put safely away
-at all hazards, and he must take the chance that the
-absence of the red mark would remain unnoticed
-until his return.</p>
-
-<p>Deliberately he laid a heavy silver spoon across
-one edge of the paper on the table, and an icecream
-fork across the other, as if to hold it in place
-until his return. Then, rising with apologies,
-he gathered his napkin, paper, and all in his hand,
-holding it against his coat most naturally, as
-if he had forgotten that he had it, and made his
-way into the front hall, where in an alcove was the
-telephone. As he passed the hat-rack he swept
-his coat and hat off with his free hand, and bore
-them with him, devoutly hoping that he was not
-being watched from the dining-room. Could he
-possibly get from the telephone out the front door
-without being seen? Hastily he hid the cipher message
-in an inner pocket. The napkin he dropped on
-the little telephone table, and taking up the receiver
-he spoke: “Hello! Yes! Oh, good evening! You
-don’t say so! How did that happen?” He made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>
-his voice purposely clear, that it might be heard
-in the dining-room if anyone was listening. Then
-glancing in that direction he saw, to his horror, his
-host lean over and lift the cipher paper he had left
-on the table and hand it to the guest on his right.</p>
-
-<p>The messenger at the other end had given his
-sentence agreed upon and he had replied according
-to the sentences laid down by the chief in his instructions;
-the other end had said good-by and
-hung up, but Gordon’s voice spoke, cool and clear
-in the little alcove, despite his excitement. “All
-right. Certainly, I can take time to write it down.
-Wait until I get my pencil. Now, I’m ready. Have
-you it there? I’ll wait a minute until you get it.”
-His heart beat wildly. The blood surged through
-his ears like rushing waters. Would they look for
-the little red mark? The soft clink of spoons and
-dishes and the murmur of conversation was still
-going on, but there was no doubt but that it was a
-matter of a few seconds before his theft would be
-discovered. He must make an instant dash for liberty
-while he yet could. Cautiously, stealthily, like
-a shadow from the alcove, one eye on the dining-room,
-he stole to the door and turned the knob.
-Yet even as he did so he saw his recent host rise
-excitedly from his seat and fairly snatch the paper
-from the man who held it. His last glimpse of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>
-room where he had but three minutes before been
-enjoying the hospitality of the house was a vision
-of the entire company starting up and pointing to
-himself even as he slid from sight. There was no
-longer need for silence. He had been discovered
-and must fight for his life. He shut the door quickly,
-his nerves so tense that it seemed as if something
-must break soon; opened and slammed the outer
-door, and was out in the great whirling city under
-the flare of electric lamps with only the chance of a
-second of time before his pursuers would be upon
-him.</p>
-
-<p>He came down the steps with the air of one who
-could scarcely take time to touch his feet to the
-ground, but must fly.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Almost</span> in front of the house stood a closed carriage
-with two fine horses, but the coachman was
-looking up anxiously toward the next building. The
-sound of the closing door drew the man’s attention,
-and, catching Gordon’s eye, he made as if to jump
-down and throw open the door of the carriage.
-Quick as a flash, Gordon saw he had been mistaken
-for the man the carriage awaited, and he determined
-to make use of the circumstance.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t get down,” he called to the man, taking
-chances. “It’s very late already. I’ll open the
-door. Drive for all you’re worth.” He jumped in
-and slammed the carriage door behind him, and in
-a second more the horses were flying down the street.
-A glance from the back window showed an excited
-group of his fellow-guests standing at the open door
-of the mansion he had just left pointing toward his
-carriage and wildly gesticulating. He surmised that
-his host was already at the telephone calling for
-his own private detective.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon could scarcely believe his senses that he
-had accomplished his mission and flight so far, and
-yet he knew his situation was most precarious.
-Where he was going he neither knew nor cared.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>
-When he was sure he was far enough from the house
-he would call to the driver and give him directions,
-but first he must make sure that the precious paper
-was safely stowed away, in case he should be caught
-and searched. They might be coming after him with
-motor-cycles in a minute or two.</p>
-
-<p>Carefully rolling the paper into a tiny compass,
-he slipped it into a hollow gold case which was among
-the things in the envelope the chief had given him.
-There was a fine chain attached to the case, and the
-whole looked innocently like a gold pencil. The
-chain he slipped about his neck, dropping the case
-down inside his collar. That done he breathed more
-freely. Only from his dead body should they take
-that away. Then he hastily put on the false eyebrows,
-mustache, and goatee which had been provided
-for his disguise, and pulling on a pair of light
-gloves he felt more fit to evade detection.</p>
-
-<p>He was just beginning to think what he should
-say to the driver about taking him to the station,
-for it was important that he get out of the city at
-once, when, glancing out of the window to see what
-part of the city he was being taken through he became
-aware of an auto close beside the carriage keeping
-pace with it, and two men stretching their necks
-as if to look into the carriage window at him. He
-withdrew to the shadow instantly so that they could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
-not see him, but the one quick glance he had made
-him sure that one of his pursuers was the short
-thick-set man with the cruel jaw who had sat across
-from him at the dinner-table a few minutes before.
-If this were so he had practically no chance at all
-of escape, for what was a carriage against a swift
-moving car and what was he against a whole city full
-of strangers and enemies? If he attempted to drop
-from the carriage on the other side and escape into
-the darkness he had but a chance of a thousand at
-not being seen, and he could not hope to hide and
-get away in this unknown part of the city. Yet he
-must take his chance somehow, for the carriage must
-sooner or later get somewhere and he be obliged to
-face his pursuers.</p>
-
-<p>To make matters worse, just at the instant when
-he had decided to jump at the next dark place and
-was measuring the distance with his eye, his hand
-even being outstretched to grasp the door handle,
-a blustering, boisterous motor-cycle burst into full
-bloom just where he intended to jump, and the man
-who rode it was in uniform. He dodged back into
-the darkness of the carriage again that he might
-not be seen, and the motor-cycle came so near that
-its rider turned a white face and looked in. He felt
-that his time had come, and his cause was lost. It
-had not yet occurred to him that the men who were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>
-pursuing him would hardly be likely to call in municipal
-aid in their search, lest their own duplicity would
-be discovered. He reasoned that he was dealing
-with desperate men who would stop at nothing to get
-back the original cipher paper, and stop his mouth.
-He was well aware that only death would be considered
-a sufficient silencer for him after what he had
-seen at Mr. Holman’s dinner-table, for the evidence
-he could give would involve the honor of every man
-who had sat there. He saw in a flash that the two
-henchmen whom he was sure were even now riding
-in the car on his right had been at the table for the
-purpose of silencing him if he showed any signs of
-giving trouble. The wonder was that any of them
-dared call in a stranger on a matter of such grave
-import which meant ruin to them all if they were
-found out, but probably they had reasoned that every
-man had his price and had intended to offer him
-a share of the booty. It was likely that the chief had
-caused it to be understood by them that he was the
-right kind of man for their purpose. Yet, of course,
-they had taken precautions, and now they had him
-well caught, an auto on one side, a motor-cycle on
-the other and no telling how many more behind!
-He had been a fool to get into this carriage. He
-might have known it would only trap him to his
-death. There seemed absolutely no chance for escape<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>
-now—yet he must fight to the last. He put his
-hand on his revolver to make sure it was easy to get
-at, tried to think whether it would not be better to
-chew up and swallow that cipher message rather
-than to run the risk of its falling again into the hands
-of the enemy; decided that he must carry it intact
-to his chief if possible; and finally that he must make
-a dash for safety at once, when just then the carriage
-turned briskly into a wide driveway, and the
-attendant auto and motor-cycle dropped behind as
-if puzzled at the move. The carriage stopped short
-and a bright light from an open doorway was flung
-into his face. There seemed to be high stone walls
-on one side and the lighted doorway on the other
-hand evidently led into a great stone building. He
-could hear the puffing of the car and cycle just behind.
-A wild notion that the carriage had been
-placed in front of the house to trap him in case
-he tried to escape, and that he had been brought to
-prison, flitted through his mind.</p>
-
-<p>His hand was on his revolver as the coachman
-jumped down to fling open the carriage door, for he
-intended to fight for his liberty to the last.</p>
-
-<p>He glanced back through the carriage window,
-and the lights of the auto glared in his face. The
-short, thick-set man was getting out of the car,
-and the motor-cyclist had stood his machine up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
-against the wall and was coming toward the carriage.
-Escape was going to be practically impossible. A
-wild thought of dashing out the opposite door of
-his carriage, boldly seizing the motor-cycle and making
-off on it passed through his mind, and then the
-door on his left was flung open and the carriage
-was immediately surrounded by six excited men in
-evening dress all talking at once. “Here you are
-at last!” they chorused.</p>
-
-<p>“Where is the best man?” shouted some one
-from the doorway. “Hasn’t he come either?” And
-as if in answer one of the men by the carriage door
-wheeled and called excitedly: “Yes, he’s come! Tell
-him—tell Jeff—tell him he’s come.” Then turning
-once more to Gordon he seized him by the arm and
-cried: “Come on quickly! There isn’t a minute to
-wait. The organist is fairly frantic. Everybody
-has been just as nervous as could be. We couldn’t
-very well go on without you—you know. But don’t
-let that worry you. It’s all right now you’ve come.
-Forget it, old man, and hustle.” Dimly Gordon perceived
-above the sound of subdued hubbub that an
-organ was playing, and even as he listened it burst
-into the joyous notes of the wedding march. It
-dawned upon him that this was not a prison to which
-he had come but a church—not a court-room but a
-wedding, and horror of horrors! they took him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>
-for the best man. His disguise had been his undoing.
-How was he to get out of this scrape? And
-with his pursuers just behind!</p>
-
-<p>“Let me explain——” he began, and wondered
-what he could explain.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s no time for explanations now, man.
-I tell you the organ has begun the march. We’re
-expected to be marching down that middle aisle this
-very minute and Jeff is waiting for us in the chapel.
-I sent the signal to the bride and another to the
-organist the minute we sighted you. Come on!
-Everybody knows your boat was late in coming in.
-You don’t need to explain a thing till afterwards.”</p>
-
-<p>At that moment one of the ushers moved aside
-and the short, thick-set man stepped between, the
-light shining full upon his face, and Gordon knew
-him positively for the man who had sat opposite
-him at the table a few minutes before. He was
-peering eagerly into the carriage door and Gordon
-saw his only escape was into the church. With his
-heart pounding like a trip hammer he yielded himself
-to the six ushers, who swept the little pursuer
-aside as if he had been a fly and literally bore Gordon
-up the steps and into the church door.</p>
-
-<p>A burst of music filled his senses, and dazzling
-lights, glimpses of flowers, palms and beautiful garments
-bewildered him. His one thought was for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>
-escape from his pursuers. Would they follow him
-into the church and drag him out in the presence
-of all these people, or would they be thrown off the
-track for a little while and give him opportunity
-yet to get away? He looked around wildly for a
-place of exit but he was in the hands of the insistent
-ushers. One of them chattered to him in a low,
-growling whisper, such as men use on solemn
-occasions:</p>
-
-<p>“It must have been rough on you being anxious
-like this about getting here, but never mind now.
-It’ll go all right. Come on. Here’s our cue and
-there stands Jefferson over there. You and he go
-in with the minister, you know. The groom and
-the best man, you understand, they’ll tell you when.
-Jeff has the ring all right, so you won’t need to
-bother about that. There’s absolutely nothing for
-you to do but stand where you’re put and go out
-when the rest do. You needn’t feel a bit nervous.”</p>
-
-<p>Was it possible that these crazy people didn’t
-recognize their mistake even yet here in the bright
-light? Couldn’t they see his mustache was stuck
-on and one eyebrow was crooked? Didn’t they know
-their best man well enough to recognize his voice?
-Surely, surely, some one would discover the mistake
-soon—that man Jeff over there who was eyeing
-him so intently. He would be sure to know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>
-this was not his friend. Yet every minute that they
-continued to think so was a distinct gain for Gordon,
-puzzling his pursuers and giving himself time to
-think and plan and study his strange surroundings.</p>
-
-<p>And now they were drawing him forward and a
-turn of his head gave him a vision of the stubbed
-head of the thick-set man peering in at the chapel
-door and watching him eagerly. He must fool him
-if possible.</p>
-
-<p>“But I don’t know anything about the arrangements,”
-faltered Gordon, reflecting that the best
-man might not be very well known to the ushers and
-perhaps he resembled him. It was not the first time
-he had been taken for another man—and with his
-present make-up and all, perhaps it was natural.
-Could he possibly hope to bluff it out for a few
-minutes until the ceremony was over and then
-escape? It would of course be the best way imaginable
-to throw that impudent little man in the doorway
-off his track. If the real best man would only
-stay away long enough it would not be a difficult
-part to play. The original man might turn up after
-he was gone and create a pleasant little mystery, but
-nobody would be injured thereby. All this passed
-through his mind while the usher kept up his sepulchral
-whisper:</p>
-
-<p>“Why, there are just the usual arrangements,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>
-you know—nothing new. You and Jeff go in after
-the ushers have reached the back of the church and
-opened the door. Then you just stand there till
-Celia and her uncle come up the aisle. Then follows
-the ceremony—very brief. Celia had all that repeating
-after the minister cut out on account of not
-being able to rehearse. It’s to be just the simplest
-service, not the usual lengthy affair. Don’t worry,
-you’ll be all right, old man. Hurry! They’re calling
-you. Leave your hat right here. Now I must go.
-Keep cool. It’ll soon be over.”</p>
-
-<p>The breathless usher hurried through the door
-and settled into a sort of exalted hobble to the time
-of the wonderful Lohengrin music. Gordon turned,
-thinking even yet to make a possible escape, but the
-eagle-eye of his pursuer was upon him and the man
-Jefferson was by his side:</p>
-
-<p>“Here we are!” he said, eagerly grabbing Gordon’s
-hat and coat and dumping them on a chair.
-“I’ll look after everything. Just come along. It’s
-time we went in. The doctor is motioning for us.
-Awfully glad to see you at last. Too bad you had to
-rush so. How many years is it since I saw you?
-Ten! You’ve changed some, but you’re looking fine
-and dandy. No need to worry about anything. It’ll
-soon be over and the knot tied.”</p>
-
-<p>Mechanically Gordon fell into place beside the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>
-man Jefferson, who was a pleasant-faced youth,
-well-groomed and handsome. Looking furtively at
-his finely-cut, happy features, Gordon wondered if
-he would feel as glad as this youth seemed to be,
-when he walked down the aisle to meet his bride.
-How, by the way, would he feel if he were going to
-be married now,—going into the face of this great
-company of well-dressed people to meet Miss Julia
-Bentley and be joined to her for life? Instinctively
-his soul shrank within him at the thought.</p>
-
-<p>But now the door was wide open, the organ pealing
-its best, and he suddenly became aware of many
-eyes, and of wondering how long his eyebrows
-would withstand the perspiration that was trickling
-softly down his forehead. His mustache—ridiculous
-appendage! why had he not removed it?—was
-it awry? Dared he put up his hand to see? His
-gloves! Would anyone notice that they were not
-as strictly fresh as a best man’s gloves should be?
-Then he took his first step to the music, and it was
-like being pulled from a delicious morning nap and
-plunged into a tub of icy water.</p>
-
-<p>He walked with feet that suddenly weighed like
-lead, across a church that looked to be miles in width,
-in the face of swarms of curious eyes. He tried to
-reflect that these people were all strangers to him,
-that they were not looking at him, anyway, but at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>
-the bridegroom by his side, and that it mattered very
-little what he did, so long as he kept still and braved
-it out, if only the real best man didn’t turn up until
-he was well out of the church. Then he could
-vanish in the dark, and go by some back way to a car
-or a taxicab and so to the station. The thought of
-the paper inside the gold pencil-case filled him with
-a sort of elation. If only he could get out of this
-dreadful church, he would probably get away safely.
-Perhaps even the incident of the wedding might
-prove to be his protection, for they would never seek
-him in a crowded church at a fashionable wedding.</p>
-
-<p>The man by his side managed him admirably,
-giving him a whispered hint, a shove, or a push now
-and then, and getting him into the proper position.
-It seemed as if the best man had to occupy the most
-trying spot in all the church, but as they put him
-there, of course it was right. He glanced furtively
-over the faces near the front, and they all looked
-quite satisfied, as if everything were going as it
-should, so he settled down to his fate, his white,
-strained face partly hidden by the abundant display
-of mustache and eyebrow. People whispered softly
-how handsome he looked, and some suggested that
-he was not so stout as when they had last seen him,
-ten years before. His stay in a foreign land must
-have done him good. One woman went so far as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>
-to tell her daughter that he was far more distinguished-looking
-than she had ever thought he could
-become, but it was wonderful what a stay in a foreign
-land would do to improve a person.</p>
-
-<p>The music stole onward; and slowly, gracefully,
-like the opening of buds into flowers, the bridal party
-inched along up the middle aisle until at last the
-bride in all the mystery of her white veil arrived,
-and all the maidens in their flowers and many colored
-gauzes were suitably disposed about her.</p>
-
-<p>The feeble old man on whose arm the bride had
-leaned as she came up the aisle dropped out of the
-procession, melting into one of the front seats, and
-Gordon found himself standing beside the bride.
-He felt sure there must be something wrong about
-it, and looked at his young guide with an attempt
-to change places with him, but the man named Jefferson
-held him in place with a warning eye. “You’re
-all right. Just stay where you are,” he whispered
-softly, and Gordon stayed, reflecting on the strange
-fashions of weddings, and wondering why he had
-never before taken notice of just how a wedding
-party came in and stood and got out again. If he
-was only out of this how glad he would be. It
-seemed one had to be a pretty all-around man to be
-a member of the Secret Service.</p>
-
-<p>The organ had hushed its voice to a sort of exultant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
-sobbing, filled with dreams of flowers and joys,
-and hints of sorrow; and the minister in a voice
-both impressive and musical began the ceremony.
-Gordon stood doggedly and wondered if that really
-was one eyebrow coming down over his eye, or only
-a drop of perspiration.</p>
-
-<p>Another full second passed, and he decided that
-if he ever got out of this situation alive he would
-never, no, never, no, <i>never</i>, get married himself.</p>
-
-<p>During the next second that crawled by he
-became supremely conscious of the creature in white
-by his side. A desire possessed him to look at her
-and see if she were like Julia Bentley. It was like
-a nightmare haunting his dreams that she <i>was</i> Julia
-Bentley somehow transported to New York and
-being married to him willy-nilly. He could not
-shake it off, and the other eyebrow began to feel
-shaky. He was sure it was sailing down over his
-eye. If he only dared press its adhesive lining a
-little tighter to his flesh!</p>
-
-<p>Some time during the situation there came a
-prayer, interminable to his excited imagination, as
-all the other ceremonies.</p>
-
-<p>Under cover of the hush and the supposedly
-bowed heads, Gordon turned desperately toward the
-bride. He must see her and drive this phantasm
-from his brain. He turned, half expecting to see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
-Julia’s tall, handsome form, though telling himself
-he was a fool, and wondering why he so dreaded
-the idea. Then his gaze was held fascinated.</p>
-
-<p>She was a little creature, slender and young and
-very beautiful, with a beauty which a deathly pallor
-only enhanced. Her face was delicately cut, and
-set in a frame of fine dark hair, the whole made
-most exquisite by the mist of white tulle that
-breathed itself about her like real mist over a flower.
-But the lovely head drooped, the coral lips had a
-look of unutterable sadness, and the long lashes
-swept over white cheeks. He could not take his
-eyes from her now that he had looked. How lovely,
-and how fitting for the delightful youth by his side!
-Now that he thought of it she was like him, only
-smaller and more delicate, of course. A sudden
-fierce, ridiculous feeling of envy filled Gordon’s
-heart. Why couldn’t he have known and loved a
-girl like that? Why had Julia Bentley been forever
-in his pathway as the girl laid out for his choice?</p>
-
-<p>He looked at her with such intensity that a couple
-of dear old sisters who listened to the prayer with
-their eyes wide open, whispered one to the other:
-“Just see him look at her! How he must love her!
-Wasn’t it beautiful that he should come right from
-the steamer to the church and never see her till<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
-now, for the first time in ten long years. It’s so
-romantic!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” whispered the other; “and I believe
-it’ll last. He looks at her that way. Only I do
-dislike that way of arranging the hair on his face.
-But then it’s foreign I suppose. He’ll probably get
-over it if they stay in this country.”</p>
-
-<p>A severe old lady in the seat in front turned a
-reprimanding chin toward them and they subsided.
-Still Gordon continued to gaze.</p>
-
-<p>Then the bride became aware of his look, raised
-her eyes, and—they were full of tears!</p>
-
-<p>They gave him one reproachful glance that shot
-through his soul like a sword, and her lashes
-drooped again. By some mysterious control over
-the law of gravity, the tears remained unshed, and
-the man’s gaze was turned aside; but that look had
-done its mighty work.</p>
-
-<p>All the experiences of the day rushed over him
-and seemed to culminate in that one look. It was
-as if the reproach of all things had come upon him.
-The hurt in the white dog’s eyes had touched him,
-the perfect courage in the appeal of the child’s eyes
-had called forth his deepest sympathy, but the tears
-of this exquisite woman wrung his heart. He saw
-now that the appeal of the dog and the child had
-been the opening wedge for the look of a woman,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
-which tore self from him and flung it at her feet
-for her to walk upon; and when the prayer was
-ended he found that he was trembling.</p>
-
-<p>He looked vindictively at the innocent youth
-beside him, as the soft rustle of the audience and
-the little breath of relief from the bridal party
-betokened the next stage in the ceremony. What
-had this innocent-looking youth done to cause tears
-in those lovely eyes? Was she marrying him against
-her will? He was only a boy, anyway. What right
-had he to suppose he could care for a delicate creature
-like that? He was making her cry already, and
-he seemed to be utterly unconscious of it. What
-could be the matter? Gordon felt a desire to kick
-him.</p>
-
-<p>Then it occurred to him that inadvertently <i>he</i>
-might have been the cause of her tears; he, supposedly
-the best man, who had been late, and held
-up the wedding no knowing how long. Of course
-it wasn’t really his fault; but by proxy it was, for
-he now was masquerading as that unlucky best man,
-and she was very likely reproaching him for what
-she supposed was his stupidity. He had heard that
-women cried sometimes from vexation, disappointment
-or excitement.</p>
-
-<p>Yet in his heart of hearts he could not set those
-tears, that look, down to so trivial a cause. They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>
-had reached his very soul, and he felt there was
-something deeper there than mere vexation. There
-had been bitter reproach for a deep wrong done.
-The glance had told him that. All the manhood in
-him rose to defend her against whoever had hurt
-her. He longed to get one more look into her eyes
-to make quite sure; and then, if there was still
-appeal there, his soul must answer it.</p>
-
-<p>For the moment his commission, his ridiculous
-situation, the real peril to his life and trust, were
-forgotten.</p>
-
-<p>The man Jefferson had produced a ring and was
-nudging him. It appeared that the best man had
-some part to play with that ring. He dimly remembered
-somewhere hearing that the best man must
-hand the ring to the bridegroom at the proper moment,
-but it was absurd for them to go through the
-farce of doing that when the bridegroom already
-held the golden circlet in his fingers! Why did he
-not step up like a man and put it upon the outstretched
-hand; that little white hand just in front
-of him there, so timidly held out with its glove
-fingers tucked back, like a dove crept out from its
-covert unwillingly?</p>
-
-<p>But that Jefferson-man still held out the ring
-stupidly to him, and evidently expected him to take
-it. Silly youth! There was nothing for it but to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
-take it and hand it back, of course. He must do
-as he was told and hasten that awful ceremony to
-its interminable close. He took the ring and held
-it out, but the young man did not take it again.
-Instead he whispered, “Put it on her finger!”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon frowned. Could he be hearing aright?
-Why didn’t the fellow put the ring on his own
-bride? If he were being married, he would knock
-any man down that dared to put his wife’s wedding
-ring on for him. Could that be the silly custom now,
-to have the best man put the bride’s ring on? How
-unutterably out of place! But he must not make
-a scene, of course.</p>
-
-<p>The little timid hand, so slender and white, came
-a shade nearer as if to help, and the ring finger
-separated itself from the others.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at the smooth circlet. It seemed too
-tiny for any woman’s finger. Then, reverently, he
-slipped it on, with a strange, inexpressible longing
-to touch the little hand. While he was thinking
-himself all kinds of a fool, and was enjoying one
-of his intermittent visions of Julia Bentley’s expressive
-countenance interpolated on the present
-scene, a strange thing happened.</p>
-
-<p>There had been some low murmurs and motions
-which he had not noticed because he thought his
-part of this very uncomfortable affair was about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
-concluded, when, lo and behold, the minister and
-the young man by his side both began fumbling
-for his hand, and among them they managed to
-bring it into position and place in its astonished
-grasp the little timid hand that he had just crowned
-with its ring.</p>
-
-<p>As his fingers closed over the bride’s hand, there
-was such reverence, such tenderness in his touch
-that the girl’s eyes were raised once more to his
-face, this time with the conquered tears in retreat,
-but all the pain and appeal still there. He looked
-and involuntarily he pressed her hand the closer,
-as if to promise aforetime whatever she would
-ask. Then, with her hand in his, and with the realization
-that they two were detached as it were from
-the rest of the wedding party, standing in a little
-centre of their own, his senses came back to him,
-and he perceived as in a flash of understanding that
-it was <i>they</i> who were being married!</p>
-
-<p>There had been some terrible, unexplainable mistake,
-and he was stupidly standing in another man’s
-place, taking life vows upon himself! The thing
-had passed from an adventure of little moment into
-a matter of a life-tragedy, two life-tragedies perhaps!
-What should he do?</p>
-
-<p>With the question came the words, “I pronounce
-you husband and wife,” and “let no man put
-asunder.”</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">What</span> had he done? Was it some great unnamed,
-unheard-of crime he had unconsciously committed?
-Could anyone understand or excuse such
-asinine stupidity? Could he ever hold up his head
-again, though he fled to the most distant part of the
-globe? Was there nothing that could save the situation?
-Now, before they left the church, could he
-not declare the truth, and set things right, undo the
-words that had been spoken in the presence of all
-these witnesses, and send out to find the real bridegroom?
-Surely neither law nor gospel could endorse
-a bond made in the ignorance of either participant.
-It would, of course, be a terrible thing
-for the bride, but better now than later. Besides,
-he was pledged by that hand-clasp to answer the
-appeal in her eyes and protect her. This, then, was
-what it had meant!</p>
-
-<p>But his commission! What of that? “A matter
-of life and death!” Ah! but this was <i>more</i> than
-life or death!</p>
-
-<p>While these rapid thoughts were flashing
-through his brain, the benediction was being pronounced,
-and with the last word the organ pealed
-forth its triumphant lay. The audience stirred excitedly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>
-anticipating the final view of the wedding
-procession.</p>
-
-<p>The bride turned to take her bouquet from the
-maid of honor, and the movement broke the spell
-under which Gordon had been held.</p>
-
-<p>He turned to the young man by his side and
-spoke hurriedly in a low tone.</p>
-
-<p>“An awful mistake has been made,” he said,
-and the organ drowned everything but the word
-“mistake.” “I don’t know what to do,” he went
-on. But young Jefferson hastened to reassure him
-joyously:</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit of it, old chap. Nobody noticed
-that hitch about the ring. It was only a second.
-Everything went off slick. You haven’t anything
-more to do now but take my sister out. Look alive,
-there! She looks as if she might be going to faint!
-She hasn’t been a bit well all day! Steady her,
-quick, can’t you? She’ll stick it out till she gets to
-the air, but hurry, for goodness’ sake!”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon turned in alarm. Already the frail
-white bride had a claim on him. His first duty
-was to get her out of this crowd. Perhaps, after all,
-she had discovered that he was not the right man,
-and that was the meaning of her tears and appeal.
-Yet she had held her own and allowed things to
-go through to the finish, and perhaps he had no right<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>
-to reveal to the assembled multitudes what she evidently
-wanted kept quiet. He must wait till he could
-ask her. He must do as this other man said—this—this
-brother of hers—who was of course the best
-man. Oh, fool, and blind! Why had he not understood
-at the beginning and got himself out of this
-fix before it was too late? And what should he do
-when he reached the door? How could he ever
-explain? His commission! He dared not breathe
-a word of that? What explanation could he possibly
-offer for his—his—yes——his <i>criminal</i> conduct?
-Why, no such thing was ever heard of in the history
-of mankind as that which had happened to him.
-From start to finish it was—it—was—— He could
-not think of words to express what it was.</p>
-
-<p>He was by this time meandering jerkily down
-the aisle, attempting to keep time to the music and
-look the part that she evidently expected him to
-play, but his eyes were upon her face, which was
-whiter now and, if possible, lovelier, than before.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, just see how devoted he is,” murmured
-the eldest of the two dear old sisters, and he caught
-the sense of her words as he passed, and wondered.
-Then, immediately before him, retreating backward
-down the aisle with terrible eyes of scorn upon him,
-he seemed to feel the presence of Miss Julia Bentley
-leading onward toward the church door; but he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>
-would not take his eyes from that sweet, sad face
-of the white bride on his arm to look. He somehow
-knew that if he could hold out until he reached that
-door without looking up, her power over him would
-be exorcised forever.</p>
-
-<p>Out into the vacant vestibule, under the tented
-canopy, alone together for the moment, he felt her
-gentle weight grow heavy on his arm, and knew her
-footsteps were lagging. Instinctively, lest others
-should gather around them, he almost lifted her and
-bore her down the carpeted steps, through the covered
-pathway, to the luxurious motor-car waiting
-with open door, and placed her on the cushions.
-Some one closed the car door and almost immediately
-they were in motion.</p>
-
-<p>She settled back with a half sigh, as if she could
-not have borne one instant more of strain, then sitting
-opposite he adjusted the window to give her
-air. She seemed grateful but said nothing. Her
-eyes were closed wearily, and the whole droop of
-her figure showed utter exhaustion. It seemed a
-desecration to speak to her, yet he must have some
-kind of an understanding before they reached their
-destination.</p>
-
-<p>“An explanation is due to you——” he began,
-without knowing just what he was going to say,
-but she put out her hand with a weary protest.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>“Oh, please don’t!” she pleaded. “I know—the
-boat was late! It doesn’t matter in the least.”</p>
-
-<p>He sat back appalled! She did not herself know
-then that she had married the wrong man!</p>
-
-<p>“But you don’t understand,” he protested.</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind,” she moaned. “I don’t want to
-understand. Nothing can change things. Only, let
-me be quiet till we get to the house, or I never can
-go through with the rest of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Her words ended with almost a sob, and he sat
-silent for an instant, with a mingling of emotions,
-uppermost of which was a desire to take the little,
-white, shrinking girl into his arms and comfort her,
-“Nothing can change things!” That sounded as
-though she did know but thought it too late to undo
-the great mistake now that it had been made. He
-must let her know that he had not understood until
-the ceremony was over. While he sat helplessly
-looking at her in the dimness of the car where
-she looked so small and sad and misty huddled beside
-her great bouquet, she opened her eyes and
-looked at him. She seemed to understand that he
-was about to speak again. By the great arc light
-they were passing he saw there were tears in her
-eyes again, and her voice held a child-like pleading
-as she uttered one word:</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>It hurt him like a knife, he knew not why. But
-he could not resist the appeal. Duty or no duty, he
-could not disobey her command.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well.” He said it quietly, almost tenderly,
-and sat back with folded arms. After all,
-what explanation could he give her that she would
-believe? He might not breathe a word of his commission
-or the message. What other reason could
-he give for his extraordinary appearance at her
-wedding and by her side?</p>
-
-<p>The promise in his voice seemed to give her
-relief. She breathed a sigh of relief and closed
-her eyes. He must just keep still and have his
-eyes open for a chance to escape when the carriage
-reached its destination.</p>
-
-<p>Thus silently they threaded through unknown
-streets, strange thoughts in the heart of each. The
-bride was struggling with her heavy burden, and the
-man was trying to think his way out of the maze of
-perplexity into which he had unwittingly wandered.
-He tried to set his thoughts in order and find out just
-what to do. First of all, of course came his commission,
-but somehow every time the little white bride
-opposite took first place in his mind. Could he serve
-both? What <i>would</i> serve both, and what would
-serve <i>either</i>? As for himself, he was free to confess<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>
-that there was no room left in the present situation
-for even a consideration of his own interests.</p>
-
-<p>Whatever there was of good in him must go now
-to set matters right in which he had greatly blundered.
-He must do the best he could for the girl
-who had so strangely crossed his pathway, and get
-back to his commission. But when he tried to realize
-the importance of his commission and set it over
-against the interests of the girl-bride, his mind became
-confused. What should he do! He could not
-think of slipping away and leaving her without further
-words, even if an opportunity offered itself.
-Perhaps he was wrong. Doubtless his many friends
-might tell him so if they were consulted, but he did
-not intend to consult them. He intended to see this
-troubled soul to some place of safety, and look out
-for his commission as best he could afterward.
-One thing he did not fully realize, and that was
-that Miss Julia Bentley’s vision troubled him no
-longer. He was free. There was only one woman
-in the whole wide world that gave him any concern,
-and that was the little sorrowful creature who sat
-opposite to him, and to whom he had just been
-married.</p>
-
-<p>Just been married! He! The thought brought
-with it a thrill of wonder, and a something else that
-was not unpleasant. What if he really had? Of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>
-course he had not. Of course such a thing could not
-hold good. But what if he had! Just for an instant
-he entertained the thought—would he be glad or
-sorry? He did not know her, of course, had heard
-her speak but a few words, had looked into her face
-plainly but once, and yet suppose she were his! His
-heart answered the question with a glad bound that
-astonished him, and all his former ideas of real
-love were swept from his mind in a breath. He
-knew that, stranger though she was, he could take
-her to his heart; cherish her, love her and bear with
-her, as he never could have done Julia Bentley.
-Then all at once he realized that he was allowing his
-thoughts to dwell upon a woman who by all that was
-holy belonged to another man, and that other man
-would doubtless soon be the one with whom he
-would have to deal. He would soon be face to face
-with a new phase of the situation and he must prepare
-himself to meet it. What was he going to do?
-Should he plan to escape from the opposite door
-of the automobile while the bride was being assisted
-from her seat? No, he could not, for he would be
-expected to get out first and help her out. Besides,
-there would be too many around, and he could not
-possibly get away. But, greater than any such
-reason, the thing that held him bound was the look
-in her eyes through the tears. He simply could not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>
-leave her until he knew that she no longer needed
-him. And yet there was his commission! Well,
-he must see her in the hands of those who would
-care for her at least. So much he had done even
-for the white dog, and then, too, surely she was
-worth as many minutes of his time as he had been
-compelled to give to the injured child of the streets.
-If he only could explain to her now!</p>
-
-<p>The thought of his message, with its terrible
-significance, safe in his possession, sent shivers of
-anxiety through his frame! Suppose he should be
-caught, and it taken from him, all on account of this
-most impossible incident! What scorn, what contumely,
-would be his! How could he ever explain
-to his chief? Would anybody living believe that a
-man in his senses could be married to a stranger
-before a whole church full of people, and not know
-he was being married until the deed was done—and
-then not do anything about it after it was done?
-That was what he was doing now this very minute.
-He ought to be explaining something somehow to
-that poor little creature in the shadow of the carriage.
-Perhaps in some way it might relieve her
-sorrow if he did, and yet when he looked at her
-and tried to speak his mouth was hopelessly closed.
-He might not tell her anything!</p>
-
-<p>He gradually sifted his immediate actions down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>
-to two necessities; to get his companion to a safe
-place where her friends could care for her, and to
-make his escape as soon and as swiftly as possible.
-It was awful to run and leave her without telling
-her anything about it; when she evidently believed
-him to be the man she had promised and intended to
-marry; but the real bridegroom would surely turn
-up soon somehow and make matters right. Anyhow,
-it was the least he could do to take himself out
-of her way, and to get his trust to its owners at once.</p>
-
-<p>The car halted suddenly before a brightly lighted
-mansion, whose tented entrance effectually shut out
-the gaze of alien eyes, and made the transit from
-car to domicile entirely private. There was no
-opportunity here to disappear. The sidewalk and
-road were black with curious onlookers. He stepped
-from the car first and helped the lady out. He bore
-her heavy bouquet because she looked literally too
-frail to carry it further herself.</p>
-
-<p>In the doorway she was surrounded by a bevy
-of servants, foremost among whom her old nurse
-claimed the privilege of greeting her with tears and
-smiles and many “Miss-Celia-my-dears,” and Gordon
-stood for the instant entranced, watching the
-sweet play of loving kindness in the face of the pale
-little bride. As soon as he could lay down those
-flowers inconspicuously he would be on the alert for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>
-a way of escape. It surely would be found through
-some back or side entrance of the house.</p>
-
-<p>But even as the thought came to him the old
-nurse stepped back to let the other servants greet
-the bride with stiff bows and embarrassed words of
-blessing, and he felt a hand laid heavily on his arm.</p>
-
-<p>He started as he turned, thinking instantly again
-of his commission and expecting to see a policeman
-in uniform by his side, but it was only the old nurse,
-with tears of devotion still in her faded eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Mister George, ye hevn’t forgot me, hev ye?”
-she asked, earnestly. “You usen’t to like me verra
-well, I mind, but ye was awful for the teasin’ an’ I
-was always for my Miss Celie! But bygones is bygones
-now an’ I wish ye well. Yer growed a man,
-an’ I know ye must be worthy o’ her, or she’d never
-hev consented to take ye. Yev got a gude wife an’
-no mistake, an’ I know ye’ll be the happiest man
-alive. Ye won’t hold it against me, Mister George,
-that I used to tell yer uncle on your masterful tricks,
-will ye? You mind I was only carin’ fer my baby
-girl, an’ ye were but a boy.”</p>
-
-<p>She paused as if expecting an answer, and Gordon
-embarrassedly assured her that he would never
-think of holding so trifling a matter against her.
-He cast a look of reverent admiration and tenderness
-toward the beautiful girl who was smiling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>
-on her loyal subjects like a queen, roused from her
-sorrow to give joy to others; and even her old nurse
-was satisfied.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, ye luve her, Mister George, don’t ye?”
-the nurse questioned. “I don’t wonder. Everybody
-what lays eyes on her luves her. She’s that
-dear——” here the tears got the better of the good
-woman for an instant and she forgot herself and
-pulled at the skirt of her new black dress thinking
-it was an apron, and wishing to wipe her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Then suddenly Gordon found his lips uttering
-strange words, without his own apparent consent,
-as if his heart had suddenly taken things in hand
-and determined to do as it pleased without consulting
-his judgment.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I love her,” he was saying, and to his
-amazement he found that the words were true.</p>
-
-<p>This discovery made matters still more complicated.</p>
-
-<p>“Then ye’ll promise me something, Mister
-George, won’t ye?” said the nurse eagerly, her tears
-having their own way down her rosy anxious face.
-“Ye’ll promise me never to make her feel bad any
-more? She’s cried a lot these last three months, an’
-nobody knows but me. She could hide it from them
-all but her old nurse that has loved her so long.
-But she’s been that sorrowful, enough fer a whole<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>
-lifetime. Promise that ye’ll do all in yer power to
-make her happy always.”</p>
-
-<p>“I will do all in my power to make her happy,”
-he said, solemnly, as if he were uttering a vow, and
-wondered how short-lived that power was to be.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> wedding party had arrived in full force
-now. Carriages and automobiles were unloading;
-gay voices and laughter filled the house. The servants
-disappeared to their places, and the white
-bride, with only a motioning look toward Gordon,
-led the way to the place where they were to stand
-under an arch of roses, lilies and palms, in a room
-hung from the ceiling with drooping ferns and white
-carnations on invisible threads of silver wire, until
-it all seemed like a fairy dream.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had no choice but to follow, as his way
-was blocked by the incoming guests, and he foresaw
-that his exit would have to be made from some other
-door than the front if he were to escape yet awhile.
-As he stepped into the mystery of the flower-scented
-room where his lady led the way, he was conscious
-of a feeling of transition from the world of ordinary
-things into one of wonder, beauty and mysterious
-joy; but all the time he knew he was an impostor,
-who had no right in that silver-threaded bower.</p>
-
-<p>Yet there he stood bowing, shaking hands, and
-smirking behind his false mustache, which threatened
-every minute to betray him.</p>
-
-<p>People told him he was looking well, and congratulated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>
-him on his bride. Some said he was
-stouter than when he left the country, and some
-said he was thinner. They asked him questions
-about relatives and friends living and dead, and he
-ran constant risk of getting into hopeless difficulties.
-His only safety was in smiling, and saying
-very little; seeming not to hear some questions, and
-answering others with another question. It was not
-so hard after he got started, because there were so
-many people, and they kept coming close upon one
-another, so no one had much time to talk. Then
-supper with its formalities was got through with
-somehow, though to Gordon, with his already satisfied
-appetite and his hampering mustache, it seemed
-an endless ordeal.</p>
-
-<p>“Jeff,” as they all called him, was everywhere,
-attending to everything, and he slipped up to the
-unwilling bridegroom just as he was having to
-answer a very difficult question about the lateness of
-his vessel, and the kind of passage they had experienced
-in crossing. By this time Gordon had discovered
-that he was supposed to have been ten years
-abroad, and his steamer had been late in landing, but
-where he came from or what he had been doing over
-there were still to be found out; and it was extremely
-puzzling to be asked from what port he had
-sailed, and how he came to be there when he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>
-been supposed to have been in St. Petersburg but
-the week before? His state of mind was anything
-but enviable. Besides all this, Gordon was just reflecting
-that the last he had seen of his hat and coat
-was in the church. What had become of them, and
-how could he go to the station without a hat? Then
-opportunely “Jeff” arrived.</p>
-
-<p>“Your train leaves at ten three,” he said in a
-low, business-like tone, as if he enjoyed the importance
-of having made all the arrangements. “I’ve
-secured the stateroom as you cabled me to do, and
-here are the tickets and checks. The trunks are
-down there all checked. Celia didn’t want any nonsense
-about their being tied up with white ribbon.
-She hates all that. We’ve arranged for you to slip
-out by the fire-escape and down through the back
-yard of the next neighbor, where a motor, just a
-plain regular one from the station, will be waiting
-around the corner in the shadow. Celia knows
-where it is. None of the party will know you are
-gone until you are well under way. The car they
-think you will take is being elaborately adorned with
-white at the front door now, but you won’t have
-any trouble about it. I’ve fixed everything up.
-Your coat and hat are out on the fire-escape, and as
-soon as Celia’s ready I’ll show you the way.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>
-to do, but his countenance grew blank. Was there,
-then, to be no escape? Must he actually take another
-man’s bride with him in order to get away?
-And how was he to get away from her? Where
-was the real bridegroom and why did he not appear
-upon the scene? And yet what complications that
-might bring up. He began to look wildly about
-for a chance to flee at once, for how could he possibly
-run away with a bride on his hands? If only
-some one were going with them to the station he
-could slip away with a clear conscience, leaving her
-in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill, and distressed
-was out of the question. He had rid himself
-of a lonely dog and a suffering child, though
-it gave him anguish to do the deed, but leave this
-lovely woman for whom he at least appeared to have
-become responsible, he could not, until he was sure
-she would come to no harm through him.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let
-anything hinder you!”</p>
-
-<p>It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for
-an instant since it began, but had chimed its changes
-through music, ceremony, prayer and reception without
-interruption. It acted like a goad upon his conscience
-now. He must do something that would
-set him free to go back to Washington. An inspiration
-came to him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>“Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with
-us?” he asked the young man, “I am sure your
-sister would like to have you.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy’s face lit up joyfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully,
-and—if it’s all the same to you, I wish Mother could
-go too. It’s the first time Celia and she were ever
-separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have
-to say good-by with the house full of folks this
-way. But she doesn’t expect it of course, and
-really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen
-Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip——”</p>
-
-<p>“There will be plenty of time for us,” said the
-compulsory bridegroom graciously, and felt as if
-he had perjured himself. It was not in his nature
-to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be glad to have you both come,” he
-added earnestly. “I really want you. Tell your
-mother.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy grasped his hand impulsively:</p>
-
-<p>“I say,” said he, “you’re all right! I don’t
-mind confessing that I’ve hated the very thought of
-you for a whole three months, ever since Celia told
-us she had promised to marry you. You see, I never
-really knew you when I was a little chap, but I didn’t
-used to like you. I took an awful scunner to you
-for some reason. I suppose kids often take irrational<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>
-dislikes like that. But ever since I’ve
-laid eyes on you to-night, I’ve liked you all the way
-through. I like your eyes. It isn’t a bit as I thought
-I remembered you. I used to think your eyes had a
-sort of deceitful look. Awful to tell you, isn’t it?
-But I felt as if I wanted to have it off my conscience,
-for I see now you’re nothing of the kind. You’ve
-got the honestest eyes I ever saw on a man, and
-I’d stake my last cent that you wouldn’t cheat a
-church mouse. You’re true as steel, and I’m mighty
-glad you’re my brother-in-law. I know you’ll be
-good to Celia.”</p>
-
-<p>The slow color mounted under his disguise until
-it reached Gordon’s burnished brown hair. His eyes
-were honest eyes. They had always been so—until
-to-day. Into what a world of deceit he had entered!
-How he would like to make a clean breast of it all
-to this nice, frank boy; but he must not! for there
-was his trust! For an instant he was on the point
-of trying to explain that he was not the true bridegroom,
-and getting young Jefferson to help him to
-set matters right, but an influx of newly arrived
-guests broke in upon their privacy, and he could
-only press the boy’s hand and say in embarrassed
-tones:</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you! I shall try to be worthy of your
-good opinion hereafter!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>It was over at last, and the bride slipped from
-his side to prepare for the journey. He looked hastily
-around, feeling that his very first opportunity
-had come for making an escape. If an open window
-had presented itself, he would have vaulted through,
-trusting to luck and his heels to get away, but there
-was no window, and every door was blocked by staring,
-admiring, smirking people. He bethought himself
-of the fire-escape where waited his hat and coat,
-and wondered if he could find it.</p>
-
-<p>With smiling apologies, he broke away from
-those around him, murmuring something about being
-needed, and worked his way firmly but steadily
-toward the stairs and thence to the back halls. Coming
-at last upon an open window, he slipped through,
-his heart beating wildly. He thought for a second
-that he was there ahead of the others; but a dark
-form loomed ahead and he perceived some one coming
-up from outside. Another second, and he saw
-it was his newly acquired brother-in-law.</p>
-
-<p>“Say, this is great!” was his greeting. “How
-did you manage to find your way up alone? I was
-just coming down after you. I wanted to leave you
-there till the last minute so no one would suspect,
-but now you are here we can hustle off at once.
-I just took Mother and Celia down. It was pretty
-stiff for Mother to climb down, for she was a little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>
-bit afraid, but she was game all right, and she was so
-pleased to go. They’re waiting for us down there
-in the court. Here, let me help you with your overcoat.
-Now I’ll pull down this window, so no one
-will suspect us and follow. That’s all right now,
-come on! You go ahead. Just hold on to the railing
-and go slow. I’ll keep close to you. I know
-the way in my sleep. I’ve played fire here many a
-year, and could climb down in my sleep.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon found himself wishing that this delightful
-brother-in-law were really his. There was evidently
-to be no opportunity of escape here. He
-meditated making a dash and getting away in the
-dark when they should reach the foot of the stairs;
-much as he hated to leave that way, he felt he must
-do so if there was any chance for him at all; but
-when they reached the ground he saw that was hopeless.
-The car that was to take them to the station
-was drawn up close to the spot, and the chauffeur
-stood beside it.</p>
-
-<p>“Your mother says fer you to hurry, Mister
-Jefferson,” he called in a sepulchral tone. “They’re
-coming out around the block to watch. Get in as
-quick as you can.”</p>
-
-<p>The burly chauffeur stood below Gordon, helped
-him to alight on his feet from the fire-escape, and
-hustled him into the darkness of the conveyance.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>They were very quiet until they had left the
-dark court and were speeding away down the avenue.
-Then the bride’s mother laid two gentle hands upon
-Gordon’s, leaning across from her seat to do so,
-and said:</p>
-
-<p>“My son, I shall never forget this of you, never!
-It was dear of you to give me this last few minutes
-with my darling!”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon, deeply touched and much put to it for
-words, mumbled something about being very glad
-to have her, and Jefferson relieved the situation by
-pouring forth a volume of information and questions,
-fortunately not pausing long enough to have
-the latter answered. The bride sat with one hand
-clasped in her mother’s, and said not a word. Gordon
-was haunted by the thought of tears in her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>There was little opportunity for thinking, but
-Gordon made a hasty plan. He decided to get his
-party all out to the train and then remember his suit-case,
-which he had left checked in the station. Jefferson
-would probably insist upon going for it but
-he would insist more strenuously that the brother
-and sister would want to have this last minute together.
-Then he could get away in the crowd and
-disappear, coming later for his suit-case perhaps,
-or sending a porter from his own train for it. The
-only drawback to this arrangement was that it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>
-seemed a dishonorable way to leave these people
-who would in the nature of things be left in a most
-trying position by his disappearance, especially the
-sad little bride. But it could not be helped, and his
-staying would only complicate things still further,
-for he would have to explain who he was, and that
-was practically impossible on account of his commission.
-It would not do to run risks with himself
-until his mission was accomplished and his message
-delivered. After that he could confess and make
-whatever reparation a man in his strange position
-could render.</p>
-
-<p>The plan worked very well. The brother of
-course eagerly urged that he be allowed to go back
-for the suit-case, but Gordon, with well-feigned
-thoughtfulness, said in a low tone:</p>
-
-<p>“Your sister will want you for a minute all to
-herself.”</p>
-
-<p>A tender look came into the boy’s eyes, and he
-turned back smiling to the stateroom where his
-mother and sister were having a wordless farewell.
-Gordon jumped from the train and sprinted down
-the platform, feeling meaner than he ever remembered
-to have felt in his whole life, and with a
-strange heaviness about his heart. He forgot for
-the moment that there was need for him to be on
-his guard against possible detectives sent by Mr.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>
-Holman. Even the importance of the message he
-carried seemed to weigh less, now that he was free.
-His feet had a strange unwillingness to hurry, and
-without a constant pressure of the will would have
-lagged in spite of him. His heart wanted to let
-suit-case and commission and everything else go to
-the winds and take him back to the stateroom where
-he had left his sorrowful bride of an hour. She
-was not his, and he might not go, but he knew that
-he would never be the same hereafter. He would
-always be wondering where she was, wishing he
-could have saved her from whatever troubled her;
-wishing she were his bride, and not another’s.</p>
-
-<p>He passed back through the station gate, and a
-man in evening clothes eyed him sharply. He
-fancied he saw a resemblance to one of the men
-at the Holman dinner-table, but he dared not look
-again lest a glance should cost him recognition. He
-wondered blindly which way he should take, and if
-it would be safe to risk going at once to the checking
-window, or whether he ought to go in hiding until
-he was sure young Jefferson would no longer look
-for him. Then a hand touched his shoulder and a
-voice that was strangely welcome shouted:</p>
-
-<p>“This way, George! The checking place is over
-to the right!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>He turned and there stood Jefferson, smiling
-and panting:</p>
-
-<p>“You see, the little mother had something to
-say to Celia alone, so I saw I was <i>de trop</i>, and
-thought I better come with you,” he declared as soon
-as he could get his breath.</p>
-
-<p>“Gee, but you can run!” added the panting
-youth. “What’s the hurry? It’s ten whole minutes
-before the train leaves. I couldn’t waste all that
-time kicking my heels on the platform, when I
-might be enjoying my new brother-in-law’s company.
-I say, are you really going to live permanently
-in Chicago? I do wish you’d decide to come
-back to New York. Mother’ll miss Celia no end.
-I don’t know how she’s going to stand it.”</p>
-
-<p>Walking airily by Gordon’s side, he talked, apparently
-not noticing the sudden start and look of
-mingled anxiety and relief that overspread his
-brother-in-law’s countenance. Then another man
-walked by them and turning looked in their faces.
-Gordon was sure this was the thick-set man from
-Holman’s. He was eying Gordon keenly. Suddenly
-all other questions stepped into the background, and
-the only immediate matter that concerned him was
-his message, to get it safely to its destination. With
-real relief he saw that this had been his greatest
-concern all the time, underneath all hindrances, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>
-that there had not been at any moment any escape
-from the crowding circumstances other than that he
-had taken, step by step. If he had been beset by
-thieves and blackguards, and thrown into prison for
-a time he would not have felt shame at the delay, for
-those things he could not help. He saw with new
-illumination that there was no more shame to him
-from these trivial and peculiar circumstances with
-which he had been hemmed in since his start to New
-York than if he had been checked by any more tragic
-obstacles. His only real misgiving was about his
-marriage. Somehow it seemed his fault, and he
-felt there ought to be some way to confess his part
-at once—but how—without putting his message in
-jeopardy—for no one would believe unless they
-knew all.</p>
-
-<p>But the time of danger was at hand, he plainly
-saw. The man whom he dared not look closely at
-had turned again and was walking parallel to them,
-glancing now and again keenly in their direction.
-He was watching Gordon furtively; not a motion
-escaped him.</p>
-
-<p>There was a moment’s delay at the checking
-counter while the attendant searched for the suit-case,
-and Gordon was convinced that the man had
-stopped a few steps away merely for the purpose
-of watching him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>He dared not look around or notice the man,
-but he was sure he followed them back to the train.
-He felt his presence as clearly as if he had been
-able to see through the back of his head.</p>
-
-<p>But Gordon was cool and collected now. It was
-as if the experiences of the last two hours, with their
-embarrassing predicaments, had been wiped off the
-calendar, and he were back at the moment when he
-left the Holman house. He knew as well as if he
-had watched them follow him that they had discovered
-his—theft—treachery—whatever it ought to
-be called—and he was being searched for; and because
-of what was at stake those men would track
-him to death if they could. But he knew also that
-his disguise and his companion were for the moment
-puzzling this sleuth-hound.</p>
-
-<p>This was probably not the only watcher about
-the station. There were detectives, too, perhaps,
-hired hastily, and all too ready to seize a suspect.</p>
-
-<p>He marvelled that he could walk so deliberately,
-swinging his suit-case in his gloved hand at so
-momentous a time. He smiled and talked easily
-with the pleasant fellow who walked by his side,
-and answered his questions with very little idea of
-what he was saying; making promises which his
-heart would like to keep, but which he now saw no
-way of making good.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>Thus they entered the train and came to the car
-where the bride and her mother waited. There were
-tears on the face of the girl, and she turned to the
-window to hide them. Gordon’s eyes followed her
-wistfully, and down through the double glass, unnoticed
-by her absent gaze, he saw the face of the
-man who had followed them, sharply watching him.</p>
-
-<p>Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he
-kept it on in spite of the presence of the ladies.
-The color rose in his cheeks that he had to seem so
-discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he
-insisted that he be allowed to take the elder lady to
-the platform, as it really was almost time for the
-train to start, and so he went deliberately out to act
-the part of bridegroom in the face of his recognized
-foe.</p>
-
-<p>The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on
-the vestibule platform, while Jefferson bade his sister
-good-by and tried to soothe her distress at parting
-from her mother.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s all right, Celie, indeed he is,” said the
-young fellow caressingly, laying his hand upon his
-sister’s bowed head. “He’s going to be awfully
-good to you; he cares a lot for you, and he’s promised
-to do all sorts of nice things. He says he’ll
-bring you back soon, and he would never stand in
-the way of your being with us a lot. He did indeed!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>
-What do you think of that? Isn’t it quite different
-from what you thought he would say? He doesn’t
-seem to think he’s got to spend the rest of his days
-in Chicago either. He says there might something
-turn up that would make it possible for him to
-change all his plans. Isn’t that great?”</p>
-
-<p>Celia tried to look up and smile through her
-tears, while the man outside studied the situation
-a moment in perplexity and then strolled slowly back
-to watch Gordon and the elder woman.</p>
-
-<p>“You will be good to my little girl,” he heard
-the woman’s voice pleading. “She has always been
-guarded, and she will miss us all, even though she
-has you.” The voice went through Gordon like a
-knife. To stand much more of this and not denounce
-himself for a blackguard would be impossible.
-Neither could he keep his hat on in the presence
-of this wonderful motherhood, a motherhood
-that appealed to him all the more that he had never
-known a mother of his own, and had always longed
-for one.</p>
-
-<p>He put up his hand and lifted his hat slightly,
-guarding as much as possible his own face from
-the view of the man on the station platform, who
-was still walking deliberately, considerately, up and
-down, often passing near enough to hear what they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>
-were saying. In this reverent attitude, Gordon
-said, as though he were uttering a sacred vow:</p>
-
-<p>“I will guard her as if she were—as if I were—as
-if I were—<i>you</i>”—then he paused a moment and
-added solemnly, tenderly—“Mother!”</p>
-
-<p>He wondered if it were not desecration to utter
-such words when all the time he was utterly unable
-to perform them in the way in which the mother
-meant. “Impostor!” was the word which rang in
-his ears now. The clamor about being hindered had
-ceased, for he was doing his best, and not letting
-even a woman’s happiness stand in the way of his
-duty.</p>
-
-<p>Yet his heart had dictated the words he had
-spoken, while his mind and judgment were busy
-with his perilous position. He could not gainsay
-his heart, for he felt that in every way he could
-he would guard and care for the girl who was to be
-in his keeping at least for a few minutes until he
-could contrive some way to get her back to her
-friends without him.</p>
-
-<p>The whistle of the train was sounding now, and
-the brakemen were shouting, “All aboard!”</p>
-
-<p>He helped the frail little elderly woman down the
-steps, and she reached up her face to kiss him. He
-bent and took the caress, the first time that a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>
-woman’s lips had touched his face since he was a
-little child.</p>
-
-<p>“Mother, I will not let anything harm her,”
-he whispered, and she said:</p>
-
-<p>“My boy, I can trust you!”</p>
-
-<p>Then he put her into the care of her strong
-young son, swung upon the train as the wheels
-began to move, and hurried back to the bride. On
-the platform, walking beside the train, he still saw
-the man. Going to the weeping girl, Gordon stooped
-over her gently, touched her on the shoulder, and
-drew the window shade down. The last face he
-saw outside was the face of the baffled man, who
-was turning back, but what for? Was he going
-to report to others, and would there perhaps be another
-stop before they left the city, where officers
-or detectives might board the train? He ought to
-be ready to get off and run for his life if there was.
-There seemed no way but to fee the porter to look
-after his companion, and leave her, despicable as
-it seemed! Yet his soul of honor told him he could
-never do that, no matter what was at stake.</p>
-
-<p>Then, without warning a new situation was
-thrust upon him. The bride, who had been standing
-with bowed head and with her handkerchief up
-to her eyes, just as her brother had left her, tottered
-and fell into his arms, limp and white. Instantly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>
-all his senses were called into action, and he forgot
-the man on the platform, forgot the possible next
-stop in the city, and the explanation he had been
-about to make to the girl; forgot even the importance
-of his mission, and the fact that the train he
-was on was headed toward Chicago, instead of
-Washington; forgot everything but the fact that the
-loveliest girl he had ever seen, with the saddest look
-a human face might wear, was lying apparently lifeless
-in his arms.</p>
-
-<p>Outside the window the man had turned back
-and was now running excitedly along with the train
-trying to see into the window; and down the platform,
-not ten yards behind, came a frantic man with
-English-looking clothes, a heavy mustache and
-goatee, shaggy eyebrows, and a sensual face, striding
-angrily along as fast as his heavy body would
-carry him.</p>
-
-<p>But Gordon saw none of them.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Five</span> hours before, the man who was hurling
-himself furiously after the rapidly retreating train
-had driven calmly through the city, from the pier of
-the White Star Line to the apartment of a man
-whom he had met abroad, and who had offered him
-the use of it during his absence. The rooms were
-in the fourth story of a fine apartment house. The
-returning exile noted with satisfaction the irreproachable
-neighborhood, as he slowly descended
-from the carriage, paid his fee, and entered the door,
-to present his letter of introduction to the janitor
-in charge.</p>
-
-<p>His first act was to open the steamer trunk
-which he had brought with him in the cab, and take
-therefrom his wedding garments. These he carefully
-arranged on folding hangers and hung in the
-closet, which was otherwise empty save for a few
-boxes piled on the high shelf.</p>
-
-<p>Then he hastened to the telephone and communicated
-with his best man, Jefferson Hathaway;
-told him the boat was late arriving at the dock, but
-that he was here at last; gave him a few directions
-concerning errands he would like to have done, and
-agreed to be at the church a half-hour earlier than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>
-the time set for the ceremony, to be shown just
-what arrangements had been made. He was told
-that his bride was feeling very tired and was resting,
-and agreed that it would be as well not to disturb
-her; they would have time enough to talk afterwards;
-there really wasn’t anything to say but what
-he had already written. And he would have about
-all he could do to get there on time as it was. He
-asked if Jefferson had called for the ring he had
-ordered and if the carriage would be sent for him in
-time and then without formalities closed the interview.
-He and Jefferson were not exactly fond of
-one another, though Jefferson was the beloved
-brother of his bride-to-be.</p>
-
-<p>He hung up the receiver and rang for a brandy
-and soda to brace himself for the coming ordeal
-which was to bind to him a woman whom for years
-he had been trying to get in his power and whom
-he might have loved if she had not dared to scorn
-him for the evil that she knew was in him. At
-last he had found a way to subdue her and bring
-her with her ample fortune to his feet and he felt
-the exultation of the conqueror as he went about his
-preparations for the evening.</p>
-
-<p>He made a smug and leisurely toilet, with a
-smile of satisfaction upon his flabby face. He was
-naturally a selfish person and had always known how<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>
-to make other people attend to all bothersome details
-for him while he enjoyed himself. He was
-quite comfortable and self-complacent as he posed
-a moment before the mirror to smooth his mustache
-and note how well he was looking. Then he went
-to the closet for his coat.</p>
-
-<p>It was most peculiar, the way it happened, but
-somehow, as he stepped into that closet to take down
-his coat, which hung at the back where the space
-was widest, the opening at the wrist of his shirt-sleeve
-caught for just an instant in the little knob
-of the closet latch. The gold button which held
-the cuff to the wristband slipped its hold, and the
-man was free almost at once, but the angry twitch
-he had made at the slight detention had given the
-door an impetus which set it silently moving on its
-hinges. (It was characteristic of George Hayne
-that he was always impatient of the slightest detention.)
-He had scarcely put his hand upon his wedding
-coat when a soft steel click, followed by utter
-darkness, warned him that his impatience had entrapped
-him. He put out his hand and pushed at the
-door, but the catch had settled into place. It was a
-very strong, neat little catch, and it did its work well.
-The man was a prisoner.</p>
-
-<p>At first he was only annoyed, and gave the door
-an angry kick or two, as if of course it would presently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>
-release him meekly; but then he bethought
-him of his polished wedding shoes, and desisted.
-He tried to find a knob and shake the door, but the
-only knob was the tiny brass one on the outside of
-the catch, and you cannot shake a plain surface
-reared up before you. Then he set his massive,
-flabby shoulder against the door and pressed with
-all his might, till his bulky linen shirt front creaked
-with dismay, and his wedding collar wilted limply.
-But the door stood like adamant. It was massive,
-like the man, but it was not flabby. The wood of
-which it was composed had spent its early life in the
-open air, drinking only the wine of sunshine and
-sparkling air, wet with the dews of heaven, and
-exercising against the north blast. It was nothing
-for it to hold out against this pillow of a man, who
-had been nurtured in the dissipation and folly of
-a great city. The door held its own, and if doors
-do such things, the face of it must have laughed to
-the silent room; and who knows but the room
-winked back? It would be but natural that a room
-should resent a new occupant in the absence of a
-beloved owner.</p>
-
-<p>He was there, safe and fast, in the still dark,
-with plenty of time for reflection. And there were
-things in his life that called for his reflection. They
-had never had him at an advantage before.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>In due course of time, having exhausted his
-breath and strength in fruitless pushing, and his
-vocabulary in foolish curses, he lifted up his voice
-and roared. No other word would quite describe
-the sound that issued from his mighty throat. But
-the city roared placidly below him, and no one
-minded him in the least.</p>
-
-<p>He sacrificed the shiny toes of the shoes and
-added resounding kicks on the door to the general
-hubbub. He changed the roar to a bellow like a
-mad bull, but still the silence that succeeded it was
-as deep and monotonous as ever. He tried going
-to the back of the closet and hurling himself against
-the door, but he only hurt his soft muscles with the
-effort. Finally he sat down on the floor of the closet.</p>
-
-<p>Now, the janitor’s wife, who occupied an apartment
-somewhat overcrowded, had surreptitiously
-borrowed the use of this closet the week before, in
-order to hang therein her Sunday gown, whose front
-breadth was covered with grease-spots, thickly overlaid
-with French chalk. The French chalk had done
-its work and removed the grease-spots, and now
-lay thickly on the floor of the closet, but the imprisoned
-bridegroom did not know that, and he sat
-down quite naturally to rest from his unusual exertions,
-and to reflect on what could be done next.</p>
-
-<p>The immediate present passed rapidly in review.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>
-He could not afford more than ten minutes to get out
-of this hole. He ought to be on the way to the
-church at once. There was no knowing what nonsense
-Celia might get into her head if he delayed.
-He had known her since her childhood, and she had
-always scorned him. The hold he had upon her
-now was like a rope of sand, but only he knew that.
-If he could but knock that old door down! If he
-only hadn’t hung up his coat in the closet! If the
-man who built the house only hadn’t put such a fool
-catch on the door! When he got out he would take
-time to chop it off! If only he had a little more
-room, and a little more air! It was stifling! Great
-beads of perspiration went rolling down his hot
-forehead, and his wet collar made a cool band about
-his neck. He wondered if he had another clean collar
-of that particular style with him. If he <i>only</i>
-could get out of this accursed place! Where were
-all the people? Why was everything so still? Would
-they never come and let him out?</p>
-
-<p>He reflected that he had told the janitor he
-would occupy the room with his baggage for two
-or three weeks perhaps, but he expected to go away
-on a trip this very evening. The janitor would not
-think it strange if he did not appear. How would
-it be to stay here and die? Horrible thought!</p>
-
-<p>He jumped up from the floor and began his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>
-howlings and gyrations once more, but soon desisted,
-and sat down to be entertained by a panorama of
-his past life which is always unpleasantly in evidence
-at such times. Fine and clear in the darkness
-of the closet stood out the nicely laid scheme of
-deviltry by which he had contrived to be at last
-within reach of a coveted fortune.</p>
-
-<p>Occasionally would come the frantic thought
-that just through this little mishap of a foolish
-clothespress catch he might even yet lose it. The
-fraud and trickery by which he had an heiress in
-his power did not trouble him so much as the thought
-of losing her—at least of losing the fortune. He
-must have that fortune, for he was deep in debt,
-and—but then he would refuse to think, and get up
-to batter at his prison door again.</p>
-
-<p>Four hours his prison walls enclosed him, with
-inky blackness all around save for a faint glimmer
-of light, which marked the well-fitted base of the
-door as the night outside drew on. He had lighted
-the gas when he began dressing, for the room had
-already been filled with shadows, and now, it began
-to seem as if that streak of flickering gas light was
-the only thing that saved him from losing his mind.</p>
-
-<p>Somewhere from out of the dim shadows a face
-evolved itself and gazed at him, a haggard face with
-piercing hollow eyes and despair written upon it.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>
-It reproached him with a sin he thought long-forgotten.
-He shrank back in horror and the cold perspiration
-stood out upon his forehead, for the eyes
-were the eyes of the man whose name he had forged
-upon a note involving trust money fifteen years before;
-and the man, a quiet, kindly, unsuspecting
-creature had suffered the penalty in a prison cell until
-his death some five years ago.</p>
-
-<p>Sometimes at night in the first years after his
-crime, that face had haunted him, appearing at odd
-intervals when he was plotting some particularly
-shady means of adding to his income, until he had
-resolved to turn over a new leaf, and actually gave
-up one or two schemes as being too unscrupulous
-to be indulged in, thus acquiring a comforting feeling
-of being virtuous. But it was long since the
-face had come. He had settled it in his mind that
-the forgery was merely a patch of wild oats which
-he had sown in his youth, something to be regretted
-but not too severely blamed for, and thus forgiving
-himself he had grown to feel that it was more the
-world’s fault for not giving him what he wanted
-than his own for putting a harmless old man in
-prison. Of the shame that had killed the old man he
-knew nothing, nor could have understood. The
-actual punishment itself was all that appealed to
-him. He was ever one that had to be taught with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>
-the lash, and then only kept straight while it was in
-sight.</p>
-
-<p>But the face was very near and vivid here in the
-thick darkness. It was like a cell, this closet, bare,
-cold, black. The eyes in the gloom seemed to pierce
-him with the thought: “This is what you made me
-suffer. It is your turn now. <span class="smcap">It is your turn now!</span>”
-Nearer and nearer they came looking into his own,
-until they saw down into his very soul, his little sinful
-soul, and drew back appalled at the littleness
-and meanness of what they saw.</p>
-
-<p>Then for the first time in his whole selfish life
-George Hayne knew any shame, for the eyes read
-forth to him all that they had seen, and how it looked
-to them; and beside the tale they told the eyes were
-clean of sin and almost glad in spite of suffering
-wrongfully.</p>
-
-<p>Closer and thicker grew the air of the small
-closet; fiercer grew the rage and shame and horror
-of the man incarcerated.</p>
-
-<p>Now, from out the shadows there looked other
-eyes, eyes that had never haunted him before; eyes
-of victims to whom he had never cast a half a
-thought. Eyes of men and women he had robbed
-by his artful, gentlemanly craft; eyes of innocent
-girls whose wrecked lives had contributed to his
-selfish scheme of living; even the great reproachful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>
-eyes of little children who had looked to him for pity
-and found none. Last, above them all were the eyes
-of the lovely girl he was to have married.</p>
-
-<p>He had always loved Celia Hathaway more
-than he could have loved anyone or anything else
-besides himself, and it had eaten into his very being
-that he never could make her bow to him; not even
-by torture could he bring her to her knees. Stung
-by the years of her scorn he had stooped lower and
-lower in his methods of dealing with her until he
-had come at last to employ the tools of slow torture
-to her soul that he might bring low her pride and
-put her fortune and her scornful self within his
-power. The strength with which she had withheld
-him until the time of her surrender had turned his
-selfish love into a hate with contemplations of
-revenge.</p>
-
-<p>But now her eyes glowed scornfully, wreathed
-round with bridal white, and seemed to taunt him
-with his foolish defeat at this the last minute before
-the final triumph.</p>
-
-<p>Undoubtedly the brandy he had taken had gone
-to his head. Was he going mad that he could not
-get away from all these terrible eyes?</p>
-
-<p>He felt sure he was dying when at last the janitor
-came up to the fourth floor on his round of inspection,
-noticed the light flaring from the transom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>
-over the door occupied by the stranger who had
-said he was going to leave on a trip almost immediately,
-and went in to investigate. The eyes vanished
-at his step. The man in the closet lost no
-time in making his presence known, and the janitor,
-cautiously, and with great deliberation made careful
-investigation of the cause and reason for this disturbance
-and finally let him out, after having received
-promise of reward which never materialized.</p>
-
-<p>The stranger flew to the telephone in frantic
-haste, called up the house of his affianced bride,
-shouting wildly at the operator for all undue delays,
-and when finally he succeeded in getting some one
-to the ’phone it was only to be told that neither Mrs.
-Hathaway nor her son were there. Were they at
-the church? “Oh, no,” the servant answered, “they
-came back from the church long ago. There is a
-wedding in the house, and a great many people.
-They are making so much noise I can’t hear. Speak
-louder please!”</p>
-
-<p>He shouted and raved at the servant, asking
-futile questions and demanding information, but
-the louder he raved the less the servant understood
-and finally he hung up the receiver and dashed about
-the room like an insane creature, tearing off his
-wilted collar, grabbing at another, jerking on his
-fine coat, searching vainly for his cuffs, snatching<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>
-his hat and overcoat, and making off down the
-stairs; breathlessly, regardless of the demand of the
-janitor for the fee of freedom he had been promised.</p>
-
-<p>Out in the street he rushed hither and thither
-blindly in search of some conveyance, found a taxicab
-at last, and, plunging in, ordered it to go at
-once to the Hathaway address.</p>
-
-<p>Arrived there, he presented an enlivening spectacle
-to the guests, who were still making merry.
-His trousers were covered with French chalk, his
-collar had slipped from its confining button in front
-and curved gracefully about one fat cheek, his high
-hat was a crush indeed, having been rammed down
-to his head in his excitement. He talked so fast
-and so loud that they thought he was crazy and
-tried to put him out, but he shook his fist angrily
-in the face of the footman and demanded to know
-where Miss Hathaway was? When they told him
-she was married and gone, he turned livid with
-wrath and told them that that was impossible, as
-he was the bridegroom.</p>
-
-<p>By this time the guests had gathered in curious
-groups in the hall and on the stairs, listening, and
-when he claimed to be the bridegroom they shouted
-with laughter, thinking this must be some practical
-joke or else that the man was insane. But one older<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>
-gentleman, a friend of the family, stepped up to the
-excited visitor and said in a quieting voice:</p>
-
-<p>“My friend, you have made a mistake! Miss
-Hathaway has this evening been married to Mr.
-George Hayne, just arrived from abroad, and they
-are at this moment on their way to take the train.
-You have come too late to see her, or else you have
-the wrong address, and are speaking of some other
-Miss Hathaway. That is very likely the explanation.”</p>
-
-<p>George looked around on the company with
-helpless rage, then rushed to his taxicab and gave
-the order for the station.</p>
-
-<p>Arriving at the station, he saw it was within half
-a minute of the departure of the Chicago train, and
-none knew better than he what time that train had
-been going to depart. Had he not given minute
-directions regarding the arrangements to his future
-brother-in-law? What did it all mean anyway?
-Had Celia managed somehow to carry out the wedding
-without him to hide her mortification at his
-non-appearance? Or had she run away? He was
-too excited to use his reason. He could merely urge
-his heavy bulk onward toward the fast fleeting train;
-and dashed up the platform, overcoat streaming
-from his arm, coat-tails flying, hat crushed down
-upon his head, his fat, bechalked legs rumbling heavily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>
-after him. He passed Jefferson and his mother;
-watching tearfully, lingeringly, the retreating train.
-Jefferson laughed at the funny spectacle, but the
-mother did not notice and only said absently: “I
-think he’ll be good to her, don’t you, Jeff? He has
-nice eyes. I don’t remember that his eyes used to
-seem so pleasant, and so—deferential.” Then they
-turned to go back to their car, and the train moved
-faster and faster out of the station. It would presently
-rush away out into the night, leaving the two
-pursuers to face each other, baffled.</p>
-
-<p>Both realized this at the same instant and the
-short, thick-set man with sudden decision turned
-again and plunging along with the train caught at
-the rail and swung himself with dangerous precipitation
-to the last platform of the last car with a
-half-frightened triumph. Looking back he saw the
-other man with a frantic effort sprint forward,
-trying to do the same thing, and failing in the
-attempt, sprawl flat on the platform, to the intense
-amusement of a couple of trainmen standing near.</p>
-
-<p>George Hayne, having thus come to a full stop
-in his headlong career, lay prostrate for a moment,
-stunned and shaken; then gathered himself up slowly
-and stood gazing after the departing train. After
-all, if he had caught it what could he have done? It
-was incredible that Celia could have got herself married<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>
-and gone on her wedding trip without him. If
-she had eloped with some one else and they were on
-that train what could he have done? Kill the bridegroom
-and force the bride to return with him and
-be married over again? Yes, but that might have
-been a trifle awkward after all, and he had enough
-awkward situations to his account already. Besides,
-it wasn’t in the least likely that Celia was married
-yet. Those people at the house had been fooled
-somehow, and she had run away. Perhaps her
-mother and brother were gone with her. The same
-threats that had made her bend to him once should
-follow her wherever she had gone. She would
-marry him yet and pay for this folly a hundred fold.
-He lifted a shaking hand of execration toward the
-train which by this time was vanishing into the dark
-opening at the end of the station, where signal lights
-like red berries festooned themselves in an arch
-against the blackness, and the lights of the last car
-paled and vanished like a forgotten dream.</p>
-
-<p>Then he turned and hobbled slowly back to the
-gates regardless of the merriment he was arousing
-in the genial trainmen; for he was spent and bruised,
-and his appearance was anything but dignified. No
-member of the wedding company had they seen him
-at this juncture would have recognized in him any
-resemblance to the handsome gentleman who had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>
-played his part in the wedding ceremony. No one
-would have thought it possible that he could be
-Celia Hathaway’s bridegroom.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly back to the gate he crept, haggard, dishevelled,
-crestfallen; his hair in its several isolated
-locks downfallen over his forehead, his collar wilted,
-his clothes smeared with chalk and dust, his overcoat
-dragging forlornly behind him. He was trying
-to decide what to do next, and realizing the torment
-of a perpetual thirst, when a hand was laid suddenly
-upon him and a voice that somehow had a familiar
-twang, said: “You will come with me, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>He looked up and there before him in the flesh
-were the eyes of the man who had haunted him for
-years, the very eyes grown younger, and filled with
-more than reproach. They were piercing him with
-the keenness of retribution. They said, as plainly as
-those eyes in the closet had spoken but a brief hour
-before: “Your time is over. My time has come.
-You have sinned. You shall suffer. Come now
-and meet your reward.”</p>
-
-<p>He started back in horror. His hands trembled
-and his brain reeled. He wished for another cocktail
-to help him to meet this most extraordinary
-emergency. Surely, something had happened to his
-nerves that he was seeing these eyes in reality, and
-hearing the voice, that old man’s voice made young,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>
-bidding him come with him. It could not be, of
-course. He was unnerved with all he had been
-through. The man had mistaken him for some one—or
-perhaps it was not a man after all. He glanced
-quickly around to see if others saw him, and at once
-became aware that a crowd was collecting about
-them.</p>
-
-<p>The man with the strange eyes and the familiar
-voice was dressed in plain clothes, but he seemed to
-have full assurance that he was a real live man and
-had a right to dictate. George Hayne could not
-shake away his grasp. There was a determination
-about it that struck terror to his soul, and he had
-a weak desire to scream and hide his eyes. Could
-he be coming down with delirium tremens? That
-brandy must have been unusually strong to have
-lasted so long in its effects. Then he made a weak
-effort to speak, but his voice sounded small and
-frightened. The eyes took his assurance from him.</p>
-
-<p>“Who are you?” he asked, and meant to add,
-“What right have <i>you</i> to dictate to <i>me</i>?” but the
-words died away in his throat, for the plainclothes
-man had opened his coat and disclosed a badge that
-shone with a sinister light straight into his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I am Norman Brand,” answered the voice,
-“and I want you for what you did to my father.
-It is time you paid your debt. You were the cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>
-of his humiliation and death. I have been watching
-for you for years. I saw the notice of your wedding
-in the paper and was tracking you. It was for this
-I entered the service. Come with me.”</p>
-
-<p>With a cry of horror George Hayne wrenched
-away from his captor and turned to flee, but instantly
-three revolvers were levelled at him, and
-he found that two policemen in brass buttons were
-stationed behind him, and the crowd closed in about
-him. Wherever he turned it was to look into the
-barrel of a gun, and there was no escape in any
-direction.</p>
-
-<p>They led him away to the patrol wagon, the erstwhile
-bridegroom, and in place of the immaculate
-linen he had searched so frantically for in his apartment
-they put upon his wrists cuffs of iron. They
-put him in a cell and left him with eyes of the old
-man for company and the haunting likeness of his
-son’s voice filling him with frenzy. The unquenchable
-thirst came upon him and he begged for brandy
-and soda, but none came to slake his thirst, for he
-had crossed the great gulf and justice at last had him
-in her grasp.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Meantime</span> the man on the steps of the last car
-of the Chicago Limited was having his doubts about
-whether he ought to have boarded that train. He
-realized that the fat traveller who was hurling himself
-after the train had stirred in him a sudden
-impulse which had been only half formed before
-and he had obeyed it. Perhaps he was following a
-wrong scent and would lose the reward which he
-knew was his if he brought the thief of the code-writing,
-dead or alive, to his employer. He was
-half inclined to jump off again now before it was
-too late; but looking down he saw they were already
-speeding over a network of tracks, and trains were
-flying by in every direction. By the time they were
-out of this the speed would be too great for him to
-attempt a jump. It was even now risky, and he
-was heavy for athletics. He must do it at once if
-he did it at all.</p>
-
-<p>He looked ahead tentatively to see if the track
-on which he must jump was clear, and the great eye
-of an engine stabbed him in the face, as it bore
-down upon him. The next instant it swept by, its
-hot breath fanning his cheek, and he drew back
-shuddering involuntarily. It was of no use. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>
-could not jump here. Perhaps they would slow up
-or stop, and anyway, should he jump or stay on
-board?</p>
-
-<p>He sat down on the upper step the better to get
-the situation in hand. Perhaps in a minute more
-the way would be clearer to jump off if he decided
-not to go on. Thus he vacillated. It was rather
-unlike him not to know his own mind.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed as if there must be something here to
-follow, and yet, perhaps he was mistaken. He had
-been the first man of the company at the front door
-after Mr. Holman turned the paper over, and
-they all had noticed the absence of the red mark.
-It had been simultaneous with the clicking of
-the door-latch and he had covered the ground
-from his seat to the door sooner than anyone
-else. He could swear he had seen the man get into
-the cab that stood almost in front of the house.
-He had lost no time in getting into his own car
-which was detailed for such an emergency, and in
-signalling the officer on a motor-cycle who was also
-ready for a quick call. The carriage had barely
-turned the corner when they followed, there was
-no other of the kind in sight either way but that,
-and he had followed it closely. It must have been
-the right carriage. And yet, when the man got
-out at the church he was changed, much changed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>
-in appearance, so that he had looked twice into the
-empty carriage to make sure that the man for whom
-he searched was not still in there hiding. Then he
-had followed him into the church and seen him married;
-stood close at hand when he put his bride into
-a big car, and he had followed the car to the house
-where the reception was held; even mingling with
-the guests and watching until the bridal couple left
-for the train. He had stood in the alley in the
-shadow, the only one of the guests who had found
-how the bride was really going away, and again he
-had followed to the station.</p>
-
-<p>He had walked close enough to the bridegroom
-in the station to be almost sure that mustache and
-those heavy eyebrows were false; and yet he could
-not make it out. How could it be possible that a
-man who was going to be married in a great church
-full of fashionable people would so dare to flirt with
-chance as to accept an invitation to a dinner where
-he might not be able to get away for hours? What
-would have happened if he had not got there in
-time? Was it in the least possible that these two
-men could be identical? Everything but the likeness
-and the fact that he had followed the man so
-closely pointed out the impossibility.</p>
-
-<p>The thick-set man was accustomed to trust his
-inner impressions thoroughly, and in this case his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>
-inner impression was that he must watch this peculiar
-bridegroom and be sure he was not the right
-man before he forever got away from him—and
-yet—and yet, he might be missing the right man by
-doing it. However, he had come so far, had risked
-a good deal already in following and in throwing
-himself on that fast moving train. He would stay
-a little longer and find out for sure. He would try
-and get a seat where he could watch him and in an
-hour he ought to be able to tell if he were really
-the man who had stolen the code-writing. If he
-could avoid the conductor for a time he would
-simply profess to have taken the wrong train by
-mistake and maybe could get put off somewhere near
-home, in case he discovered that he was barking
-up the wrong tree. He would stick to the train for
-a little yet, inasmuch as there seemed no safe way
-of getting off at present.</p>
-
-<p>Having decided so much, he gave one last glance
-toward the twinkling lights of the city hurrying past,
-and getting up sauntered into the train, keeping a
-weather eye out for the conductor. He meant to
-burn no bridges behind him. He was well provided
-with money for any kind of a trip and mileage books
-and passes. He knew where to send a telegram
-that would bring him instant assistance in case of
-need, and even now he knew the officer on the motor-cycle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>
-had reported to his employer that he had
-boarded this train. There was really no immediate
-need for him to worry. It was big game he was
-after and one must take some risks in a case of that
-sort. Thus he entered the sleeper to make good the
-impression of his inner senses.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had never held anything so precious, so
-sweet and beautiful and frail-looking, in his arms.
-He had a feeling that he ought to lay her down, yet
-there was a longing to draw her closer to himself
-and shield her from everything that could trouble
-her.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>But she was not his—only a precious trust to be
-guarded and cared for as vigilantly as the message
-he carried hidden about his neck; she belonged to
-another, somewhere, and was a sacred trust until
-circumstances made it possible for him to return
-her to her rightful husband. Just what all this
-might mean to himself, to the woman in his arms,
-and to the man whom she was to have married,
-Gordon had not as yet had time to think. It was
-as if he had been watching a moving picture and
-suddenly a lot of circumstances had fallen in a
-heap and become all jumbled up together, the result
-of his own rash but unsuspecting steps, the way
-whole families have in moving pictures of falling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>
-through a sky-scraper from floor to floor, carrying
-furniture and inhabitants with them as they descend.</p>
-
-<p>He had not as yet been able to disentangle himself
-from the debris and find out what had been his
-fault and what he ought to do about it.</p>
-
-<p>He laid her gently on the couch of the drawing-room
-and opened the little door of the private
-dressing-room. There would be cold water in there.</p>
-
-<p>He knew very little about caring for sick people—he
-had always been well and strong himself—but
-cold water was what they used for people who
-had fainted, he was sure. He would not call in anyone
-to help, unless it was absolutely necessary. He
-pulled the door of the stateroom shut, and went after
-the water. As he passed the mirror, he started at
-the curious vision of himself. One false eyebrow
-had come loose and was hanging over his eye, and
-his goatee was crooked. Had it been so all the
-time? He snatched the eyebrow off, and then the
-other; but the mustache and goatee were more
-tightly affixed, and it was very painful to remove
-them. He glanced back, and the white, limp look
-of the girl on the couch frightened him. What was
-he about, to stop over his appearance when she might
-be dying, and as for pain—he tore the false hair
-roughly from him, and, stuffing it into his pocket,
-filled a glass with water and went back to the couch.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>
-His chin and upper lip smarted, but he did not notice
-it, nor know that the mark of the plaster was all
-about his face. He only knew that she lay there
-apparently lifeless before him, and he must bring
-the soul back into those dear eyes. It was strange,
-wonderful, how his feeling had grown for the girl
-whom he had never seen till three hours before.</p>
-
-<p>He held the glass to her white lips and tried
-to make her drink, then poured water on his handkerchief
-and awkwardly bathed her forehead. Some
-hairpins slipped loose and a great wealth of golden-brown
-hair fell across his knees as he half knelt beside
-her. One little hand drooped over the side of
-the couch and touched his. He started! It seemed
-so soft and cold and lifeless.</p>
-
-<p>He blamed himself that he had no remedies in
-his suit-case. Why had he never thought to carry
-something,—a simple restorative? Other people
-might need it though he did not. No man ought to
-travel without something for the saving of life in
-an emergency. He might have needed it himself
-even, in case of a railroad accident or something.</p>
-
-<p>He slipped his arm tenderly under her head and
-tried to raise it so that she could drink, but the
-white lips did not move nor attempt to swallow.</p>
-
-<p>Then a panic seized him. Suppose she was
-dying? Not until later, when he had quiet and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>
-opportunity for thought, did it occur to him what a
-terrible responsibility he had dared to take upon
-himself in letting her people leave her with him;
-what a fearful position he would have been in if she
-had really died. At the moment his whole thought
-was one of anguish at the idea of losing her; anxiety
-to save her precious life; and not for himself.</p>
-
-<p>Forgetting his own need of quiet and obscurity,
-he laid her gently back upon the couch again, and
-rushed from the stateroom out into the aisle of the
-sleeper. The conductor was just making his rounds
-and he hurried to him with a white face.</p>
-
-<p>“Is there a doctor on board, or have you any
-restoratives? There is a lady——” He hesitated
-and the color rolled freshly into his anxious face.
-“That is—my wife.” He spoke the word unwillingly,
-having at the instant of speaking realized that
-he must say this to protect her good name. It seemed
-like uttering a falsehood, or stealing another man’s
-property; and yet, technically, it was true, and for
-her sake at least he must acknowledge it.</p>
-
-<p>“My wife,” he began again more connectedly,
-“is ill—unconscious.”</p>
-
-<p>The conductor looked at him sharply. He had
-sized them up as a wedding party when they came
-down the platform toward the train. The young
-man’s blush confirmed his supposition.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>“I’ll see!” he said briefly. “Go back to her and
-I’ll bring some one.”</p>
-
-<p>It was just as Gordon turned back that the thick-set
-man entered the car from the other end and met
-him face to face, but Gordon was too distraught at
-that moment to notice him, for his mind was at rest
-about his pursuer as soon as the train started.</p>
-
-<p>Not so with the pursuer however. His keen little
-eyes took in the white, anxious face, the smear of
-sticking plaster about the mouth and eyebrows,
-and instantly knew his man. His instincts had not
-failed him after all.</p>
-
-<p>He put out a pair of brawny fists to catch at
-him, but a lurch of the train and Gordon’s swift
-stride out-purposed him, and by the time the little
-man had righted his footing Gordon was disappearing
-into the stateroom, and the conductor with another
-man was in the aisle behind him waiting to
-pass. He stepped back and watched. At least he
-had driven his prey to quarry and there was no possible
-escape now until the train stopped. He would
-watch that door as a cat watches a mouse, and perhaps
-be able to send a telegram for help before he
-made any move at all. It was as well that his impulse
-to take the man then and there had come to
-naught. What would the other passengers have
-thought of him? He must of course move cautiously.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>
-What a blunder he had almost made. It
-was no part of his purpose to make public his errand.
-The men who were behind him did not wish to be
-known, nor to have their business known.</p>
-
-<p>With narrowing eyes he watched the door of the
-stateroom as the conductor and doctor came and
-went. He gathered from a few questions asked
-by one of the passengers that there was some one
-sick, probably the lady he had seen faint as the
-train started. It occurred to him that this might
-be his opportunity, and when the conductor came
-out of the drawing-room the second time he inquired
-if any assistance was needed, and implied that
-doctoring was his profession, though it would be
-a sorry patient that had only his attention. However,
-if he had one accomplishment it was bluffing,
-and he never stopped at any profession that suited
-his needs.</p>
-
-<p>The conductor was annoyed at the interruptions
-that had already occurred and he answered him
-brusquely that they had all the help necessary and
-there wasn’t anything the matter anyway.</p>
-
-<p>There was nothing left for the man to do but
-wait.</p>
-
-<p>He subsided with his eye on the stateroom door,
-and later secured a berth in plain sight of that door,
-but gave no order to have it made up until every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>
-other passenger in the car was gone to what rest
-a sleeping-car provides. He kept his vigil well, but
-was rewarded with no sight of his prey that night,
-and at last with a sense of duty well done and the
-comfortable promise from the conductor that his
-deftly worded telegraphic message to Mr. Holman
-should be sent from a station they passed a little
-after midnight, he crept to his well-earned rest. He
-was not at home in a dress shirt and collar, being
-of the walks of life where a collar is mostly
-accounted superfluous, and he was glad to be relieved
-of it for a few hours. It had not yet occurred to
-him that his appearance in that evening suit would
-be a trifle out of place when morning came. It
-is doubtful if he had ever considered matters of
-dress. His profession was that of a human ferret
-of the lower order, and there were many things he
-did not know. It might have been the way he held
-his fork at dinner that had made Gordon decide that
-he was but a henchman of the others.</p>
-
-<p>Having put his mind and his body at rest he proceeded
-to sleep, and the train thundered on its way
-into the night.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon meanwhile had hurried back from his
-appeal to the conductor, and stood looking helplessly
-down at the delicate girl as she lay there so white
-and seemingly lifeless. Her pretty travelling gown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>
-set off the exquisite face finely; her glorious hair
-seemed to crown her. A handsome hat had fallen
-unheeded to the floor, and lay rolling back and
-forth in the aisle with the motion of the train. He
-picked it up reverently, as though it had been a
-part of her. His face in the few minutes had gone
-haggard.</p>
-
-<p>The conductor hurried in presently, followed by
-a grave elderly man with a professional air. He
-touched a practised finger to the limp wrist, looked
-closely into the face, and then taking a little bottle
-from a case he carried called for a glass.</p>
-
-<p>The liquid was poured between the closed lips,
-the white throat reluctantly swallowed it, the eyelids
-presently fluttered, a long breath that was scarcely
-more than a sigh hovered between the lips, and then
-the blue eyes opened.</p>
-
-<p>She looked about, bewildered, looking longest at
-Gordon, then closed her eyes wearily, as if she
-wished they had not brought her back, and lay still.</p>
-
-<p>The physician still knelt beside her, and Gordon,
-with time now to think, began to reflect on the
-possible consequences of his deeds. With anxious
-face, he stood watching, reflecting bitterly that he
-might not claim even a look of recognition from
-those sweet eyes, and wishing with all his heart that
-his marriage had been genuine. A passing memory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>
-of his morning ride to New York in company with
-Miss Bentley’s conjured vision brought wonder to
-his eyes. It all seemed so long ago, and so strange
-that he ever could have entertained for a moment
-the thought of marrying Julia. She was a good girl
-of course, fine and handsome and all that,—but—and
-here his eyes sought the sweet sad face on the
-couch, and his heart suffered in a real agony for
-the trouble he saw; and for the trouble he must
-yet give to her when he told her who he was, or
-rather who he was not; for he must tell her and that
-soon. It would not do to go on in her company—nor
-to Chicago! And yet, how was he possibly to
-leave her in this condition?</p>
-
-<p>But no revelations were to be given that night.</p>
-
-<p>The physician administered another draught, and
-ordered the porter to make up the berth immediately.
-Then with skilful hands and strong arms he laid the
-young girl in upon the pillows and made her comfortable,
-Gordon meanwhile standing awkwardly
-by with averted eyes and troubled mien. He would
-have liked to help, but he did not know how.</p>
-
-<p>“She’d better not be disturbed any more than is
-necessary to-night,” said the doctor, as he pulled
-the pretty cloth travelling gown smoothly down
-about the girl’s ankles and patted it with professional
-hands. “Don’t let her yield to any nonsense<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>
-about putting up her hair, or taking off that frock
-for fear she’ll rumple it. She needs to lie perfectly
-quiet. It’s a case of utter exhaustion, and I should
-say a long strain of some kind—anxiety, worry perhaps.”
-He looked keenly at the sheepish bridegroom.
-“Has she had any trouble?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon lifted honest eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m afraid so,” he answered contritely, as if it
-must have been his fault some way.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, don’t let her have any more,” said the
-elder man briskly. “She’s a very fragile bit of
-womanhood, young man, and you’ll have to handle
-her carefully or she’ll blow away. Make her <i>happy</i>,
-young man! People can’t have too much happiness
-in this world. It’s the best thing, after all, to keep
-them well. Don’t be afraid to give her plenty.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you!” said Gordon, fervently, wishing
-it were in his power to do what the physician
-ordered.</p>
-
-<p>The kindly physician, the assiduous porter, and
-the brusque but good-hearted conductor went away
-at last, and Gordon was left with his precious charge,
-who to all appearances was sleeping quietly. The
-light was turned low and the curtains of the berth
-were a little apart. He could see the dim outline of
-drapery about her, and one shadowy hand lying
-limp at the edge of the couch, in weary relaxation.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>Above her, in the upper berth, which he had told
-the porter not to make up, lay the great purple-black
-plumed hat, and a sheaf of lilies of the valley from
-her bouquet. It seemed all so strange for him to
-be there in their sacred presence.</p>
-
-<p>He locked the door, so that no one should disturb
-the sleeper, and went slowly into the little
-private dressing-room. For a full minute after he
-reached it, he stood looking into the mirror before
-him, looking at his own weary, soiled face, and wondering
-if he, Cyril Gordon, heretofore honored and
-self-respecting, had really done in the last twelve
-hours all the things which he was crediting himself
-with having done! And the question was, how had
-it happened? Had he taken leave of his senses, or
-had circumstances been too much for him? Had he
-lost the power of judging between right and wrong?
-Could he have helped any of the things that had
-come upon him? How could he have helped them?
-What ought he to have done? What ought he to
-do now? Was he a criminal beyond redemption?
-Had he spoiled the life of the sweet woman out there
-in her berth, or could he somehow make amends
-for what he had done? And was he as badly to
-blame for it all as he felt himself to be?</p>
-
-<p>After a minute he rallied, to realize that his face
-was dirty. He washed the marks of the adhesive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>
-plaster away, and then, not satisfied with the result,
-he brought his shaving things from his suit-case and
-shaved. Somehow, he felt more like himself after
-his toilet was completed, and he slipped back into
-the darkened drawing-room and stretched himself
-wearily on the couch, which, according to his directions,
-was not made up, but merely furnished with
-pillows and a blanket.</p>
-
-<p>The night settled into the noisy quiet of an express
-train, and each revolution of the wheels, as
-they whirled their way Chicagoward, resolved itself
-into the old refrain, “Don’t let anything hinder
-you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”</p>
-
-<p>He certainly was not taking the most direct
-route from New York to Washington, though it
-might eventually prove that the longest way round
-was the shortest way home, on account of its comparative
-safety.</p>
-
-<p>As he settled to the quiet of his couch, a number
-of things came more clearly to his vision. One
-was that they had safely passed the outskirts of
-New York without interference of any kind, and
-must by this time be speeding toward Albany, unless
-they were on a road that took them more directly
-West. He had not thought to look at the tickets
-for knowledge of his bearings, and the light was
-too dim for him to make out any monograms or letterings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>
-on inlaid wood panels or transoms, even if
-he had known enough about New York railroads
-to gain information from them. There was one
-thing certain: even if he had been mistaken about
-his supposed pursuers, by morning there would
-surely be some one searching for him. The duped
-Holman combination would stop at nothing when
-they discovered his theft of the paper, and he could
-not hope that so sharp-eyed a man as Mr. Holman
-had seemed to be would be long in discovering the
-absence of his private mark on the paper. Undoubtedly
-he knew it already. As for the frantic bridegroom,
-Gordon dreaded the thought of meeting him.
-It must be put off at any hazards until the message
-was safe with his chief, then, if he had to answer
-with his life for carrying off another man’s bride, he
-could at least feel that he left no duty to his government
-undone. It was plain that his present situation
-was a dangerous one from two points of view,
-for the bridegroom would have no difficulty in
-finding out what train he and the lady had taken;
-and he was satisfied that an emissary of Holman had
-more than a suspicion of his identity. The obvious
-thing to do was to get off that train at the first opportunity
-and get across country to another line of railroad.
-But how was that to be done with a sick
-lady on his hands? Of course he could leave her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>
-to herself. She probably had taken journeys before,
-and would know how to get back. She would
-at least be able to telegraph to her friends to come
-for her. He could leave her money and a note explaining
-his involuntary villainy, and her indignation
-with him would probably be a sufficient stimulant
-to keep her from dying of chagrin at her plight.
-But as from the first every nerve and fibre in him
-rejected this suggestion. It would be cowardly,
-unmanly, horrible! Undoubtedly it might be the
-wise thing to do from many standpoints, but—<i>never</i>!
-He could no more leave her that way than he could
-run off to save his life and leave that message he
-carried. She was a trust as much as that. He had
-got into this, and he must get out somehow, but he
-would not desert the lady or neglect his duty.</p>
-
-<p>Toward morning, when his fitful vigil became
-less lucid it occurred to him that he ought really
-to have deserted the bride while she was still unconscious,
-jumping off the train at the short stop
-they made soon after she fell into his arms. She
-would then have been cared for by some one, his
-absence discovered, and she would have been put off
-the train and her friends sent for at once. But it
-would have been dastardly to have deserted her that
-way not knowing even if she still lived, he on whom
-she had at least a claim of temporary protection.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>It was all a terrible muddle, right and wrong
-juggled in such a mysterious and unusual way. He
-never remembered to have come to a spot before
-where it was difficult to know which of two things
-it was right to do. There had always before been
-such clearly defined divisions. He had supposed
-that people who professed not to know what was
-right were people who wished to be blinded on the
-subject because they wished to do wrong and think
-it right. But now he saw that he had judged such
-too harshly.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps his brain had been overstrained with
-the excitement and annoyances of the day, and
-he was not quite in a condition to judge what was
-right. He ought to snatch a few minutes’ sleep, and
-then his mind would be clearer, for something must
-be done and that soon. It would not do to risk
-entering a large city where detectives and officers
-with full particulars might even now be on the watch
-for him. He was too familiar with the workings of
-retribution in this progressive age not to know his
-danger. But he really must get some sleep.</p>
-
-<p>At last he yielded to the drowsiness that was
-stealing over him—just for a moment, he thought,
-and the wheels hummed on their monotonous song:
-“Don’t let anything hinder! Don’t let anything——!
-Don’t let——! Don’t! Hin-der-r-r-r!”</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> man slept, and the train rushed on. The
-night waned. The dawn grew purple in the east,
-and streaked itself with gold; then later got out a
-fillet of crimson and drew over its cloudy forehead.
-The breath of the lilies filled the little room with delicate
-fragrance, and mingled strange scenes in the
-dreams of the man and the woman so strangely
-united.</p>
-
-<p>The sad little bride grew restless and stirred, but
-the man on the couch did not hear her. He was
-dreaming of a shooting affray, in which he carried
-a bride in a gold pencil and was shot for stealing a
-sandwich out of Mr. Holman’s vest-pocket.</p>
-
-<p>The morning light grew clearer. The east had
-put on a vesture of gold above her purple robe, and
-its reflection shone softly in at the window, for
-the train was just at that moment rushing northward,
-though its general course was west.</p>
-
-<p>The sleeper behind the thick green curtains
-stirred again and became conscious, as in many days
-past, of her heavy burden of sorrow. Always at
-first waking the realization of it sat upon her as
-though it would crush the life from her body. Lying
-still with bated breath, she fought back waking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>
-consciousness as she had learned to do in the last
-three months, yet knew it to be futile while she was
-doing it.</p>
-
-<p>The sun shot up between the bars of crimson,
-like a topaz on a lady’s gown that crowns the whole
-beautiful costume. The piercing, jewelled light lay
-across the white face, touched the lips with warm
-fingers, and the troubled soul knew all that had
-passed.</p>
-
-<p>She lay quiet, letting the torrent sweep over her
-with its sickening realization. She was married!
-It was over—with the painful parting from dear
-ones. She was off away from them all. The new
-life she so dreaded had begun, and how was she to
-face it—the life with one whom she feared and
-did not respect? How could she ever have done it
-but for the love of her dear ones?</p>
-
-<p>Gradually she came to remember the night before—the
-parting with her mother and her brother;
-the little things that brought the tears again to her
-eyes. Then all was blankness. She must have
-fainted. She did not often faint, but it must be—yes,
-she remembered opening her eyes and seeing
-men’s faces about her, and George—could it have
-been George?—with a kinder look in his eyes than
-she had ever thought to see there. Then she must
-have fainted again—or had she? No, some one had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>
-lifted her into this berth, and she had drunk something
-and had gone to sleep. What had happened?
-Where was everybody? It was good to have been
-left alone. She grudgingly gave her unloved husband
-a fragment of gratitude for not having tried
-to talk to her. In the carriage on the way he had
-seemed determined to begin a long argument of some
-kind. She did not want to argue any more. She
-had written tomes upon the subject, and had said
-all she had to say. He was not deceived. He knew
-she did not love him, and would never have married
-him but for her mother’s sake and for the sake of
-her beloved father’s memory. What was the use
-of saying more? Let it rest. The deed was done,
-and they were married. Now let him have his way
-and make her suffer as he chose. If he would but
-let her suffer in silence and not inflict his bitter
-tongue upon her, she would try to bear it. And perhaps—oh,
-perhaps, she would not live long, and it
-would soon be all over.</p>
-
-<p>As the daylight grew, the girl felt an inclination
-to find out whether her husband was near. Cautiously
-she lifted her head, and, drawing back a corner
-of the curtain, peered out.</p>
-
-<p>He lay quietly on the couch, one hand under his
-cheek against the pillow, the other across his breast,
-as if to guard something. He was in the still sleep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>
-of the overwearied. He scarcely seemed to be
-breathing.</p>
-
-<p>Celia dropped the curtain, and put her hand to
-her throat. It startled her to find him so near and
-so still. Softly, stealthily, she lay down again and
-closed her eyes. She must not waken him. She
-would have as long a time to herself as was possible,
-and try to think of her dear mother and her
-precious brother. Oh, if she were just going away
-from them alone, how well she could bear it! But
-to be going with one whom she had always almost
-hated——</p>
-
-<p>Her brother’s happy words about George suddenly
-came to her mind. Jefferson had thought
-him fine. Well, of course the dear boy knew nothing
-about it. He had not read all those letters—those
-awful letters. He did not know the threats—the
-terrible language that had been used. She shuddered
-as she thought of it. But in the same breath
-she was glad that her brother had been deceived.
-She would not have it otherwise. Her dear ones
-must never know what she had gone through to save
-them from disgrace and loss of fortune—disgrace,
-of course, being the first and greatest. She had
-feared that George would let them see through his
-veneer of manners, and leave them troubled, but he
-had made a better appearance than she had hoped.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>
-Ten years had made a greater change in him than
-she had expected. He really had not been so bad as
-her conjured image of him.</p>
-
-<p>Then a sudden desire to look at him again seized
-her, to know once for all just how he really did seem.
-She would not want to notice him awake any more
-than she could help, nor dare, lest he presume upon
-her sudden interest, to act as if he had never
-offended; but if she should look at him now as he
-lay asleep she might study his face and see what
-she really had to expect.</p>
-
-<p>She fought the desire to peer at him again, but
-finally it gained complete possession of her, and she
-drew back the curtain once more.</p>
-
-<p>He was lying just as quietly as before. His
-heavy hair, a little disordered on the pillow, gave
-him a noble, interesting appearance. He did not
-seem at all a fellow of whom to be afraid. It was
-incredible that he could have written those letters.</p>
-
-<p>She tried to trace in his features a likeness to
-the youth of ten years ago, whom she had known
-when she was but a little girl, who had tied her
-braids to her chair, and put raw oysters and caterpillars
-down her back, or stretched invisible cords
-to trip her feet in dark places; who made her visits
-to a beloved uncle—whom he also had the right to
-call uncle, though he was no cousin of hers—a long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>
-list of catastrophes resulting in tears; who had never
-failed to mortify her on all occasions possible, and
-once—— But the memories were too horrible as
-they crowded one upon another! Let them be forgotten!</p>
-
-<p>She watched the face before her keenly, critically,
-yet she could see no trace of any such character
-as she had imagined the boy George must have
-developed as a man; of which his letters had given
-her ample proof. This man’s face was finely-cut
-and sensitive. There was nothing coarse or selfish
-in its lines. The long, dark eyelashes lay above
-dark circles of weariness, and gave that look of
-boyishness that always touches the maternal
-chord in a woman’s heart. George used to have a
-puffy, self-indulgent look under his eyes even when
-he was a boy. She had imagined from his last
-photograph that he would be much stouter, much
-more bombastic; but, then, in his sleep, perhaps
-those things fell from a man.</p>
-
-<p>She tried to turn away indifferently, but something
-in his face held her. She studied it. If he had
-been any other man, any stranger, she would have
-said from looking at him critically that kindness
-and generosity, self-respect and respect for women,
-were written all over the face before her. There
-was fine, firm modelling about the lips and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>
-clean-shaven chin; and about the forehead the look
-almost of a scholar; yet she thought she knew the
-man before her to be none of these things. How deceptive
-were looks! She would probably be envied
-rather than pitied by all who saw her. Well, perhaps
-that was better. She could the easier keep her
-trouble to herself. But stay, what was there about
-this man that seemed different? The smooth face?
-Yes. She had the dim impression that last night
-he wore a mustache. She must have been mistaken,
-of course. She had only looked at him when absolutely
-necessary, and her brain was in such a whirl;
-but still there seemed to be something different
-about him.</p>
-
-<p>Her eyes wandered to the hand that lay across
-his breast. It was the fine white hand of the professional
-man, the kind of hand that somehow
-attracts the eye with a sense of cleanness and
-strength. There was nothing flabby about it.
-George as a boy used to have big, stumpy fingers and
-nails chewed down to the quick. She could remember
-how she used to hate to look at them when she
-was a little girl, and yet somehow could not keep
-her eyes away. She saw with relief that the nails
-on this hand were well shaped and well cared for.</p>
-
-<p>He looked very handsome and attractive as he
-lay there. The sun shot one of its early daring bolts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>
-of light across his hair as the train turned in its
-course and lurched northward around a curve. It
-glinted there for a moment, like a miniature search-light,
-travelling over the head, showing up every
-wave and curve. He had the kind of hair which
-makes a woman’s hand instinctively long to touch it.
-Celia wondered at the curious thoughts that
-crowded through her mind, knowing that all the
-while there was the consciousness that when this
-man should wake she would think of nothing but his
-hateful personality as she had known it through the
-years. And she was his wife! How strange! How
-terrible! How impossible to live with the thought
-through interminable weary years! Oh, that she
-might die at once before her strength failed and her
-mother found out her sorrow!
-She lay back again on her pillows very still and
-tried to think, but somehow a pleasant image of
-him, her husband, lingered in her memory. Could
-it be possible that she would ever see anything pleasant
-in him? Ever endure the days of his companionship?
-Ever come to the point where she could
-overlook his outrageous conduct toward her, forgive
-him, and be even tolerant of him? Sharp memories
-crowded upon her, and the smarting tears stung their
-way into her eyes, answering and echoing in her
-heart, “No, no, a thousand times, no!” She had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>
-paid his price and gained redemption for her own,
-but—forget what he had done? <i>Never!</i></p>
-
-<p>The long strain of weariness, and the monotony
-of the onrushing train, lulled her half into unconsciousness
-again, and the man on the couch slumbered
-on.</p>
-
-<p>He came to himself suddenly, with all his senses
-on the alert, as the thumping noise and motion of
-the train ceased, and a sudden silence of open country
-succeeded, broken now and again by distant
-oncoming and receding voices. He caught the fragment
-of a sentence from some train official: “It’s
-a half-hour late, and maybe more. We’ll just have
-to lie by, that’s all. Here, you, Jim, take this flag
-and run up to the switch——” The voice trailed
-into the distance, ended by the metallic note of a
-hammer doing something mysterious to the underpinning
-of the car.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon sat up suddenly, his hand yet across his
-breast, where his first waking thought had been to
-feel if the little pencil-case were safe.</p>
-
-<p>Glancing stealthily toward the curtains of the
-berth, and perceiving no motion, he concluded that
-the girl still slept.</p>
-
-<p>Softly he slipped his feet into his shoes, gave
-one or two other touches to his toilet, and stood up,
-looking toward the curtains. He wanted to go out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>
-and see where they were stopping, but dared he go
-without knowing that she was all right?</p>
-
-<p>Softly, reverently, he stooped and brought his
-face close to the opening in the curtains. Celia felt
-his eyes upon her. Her own were closed, and by a
-superhuman effort she controlled her breathing,
-slowly, gently, as if she were asleep.</p>
-
-<p>He looked for a long moment, thrilled by the
-delicate beauty of her sleeping face, filled with an
-intoxicating joy to see that her lips were no longer
-white; then, turning reverently away, he unlocked
-the door and stepped forth.</p>
-
-<p>The other occupants of the car were still wrapped
-in slumber. Loud snores of various kinds and
-qualities testified to that. A dim light at the further
-end contended luridly, and losingly, with the daylight
-now flooding the outside world and creeping
-mischievously into the transoms.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon closed the door of the compartment
-noiselessly and went down the aisle to the end of
-the car.</p>
-
-<p>A door was open, and he could hear voices outside.
-The conductor stood talking with two brakemen.
-He heard the words: “Three-quarters of an
-hour at least,” and then the men walked off toward
-the engine.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon looked across the country, and for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>
-first time since he started on his journey let himself
-remember that it was springtime and May.</p>
-
-<p>There had been a bitter wind the night before,
-with a hint of rain in the air. In fact, it had rained
-quite smartly during the ride to the hospital with
-the hurt child, but he had been so perturbed that
-he had taken little notice of the weather. But this
-was a radiant morning.</p>
-
-<p>The sun was in one of its most charming moods,
-when it touches everything with a sort of unnatural
-glory after the long winter of darkness and cold.
-Every tree trunk in the distance seemed to stand out
-clearly, every little grass-blade was set with a glowing
-jewel, and the winding stream across a narrow
-valley fairly blazed with brightness. The very road
-with its deep, clean wheel-grooves seemed like a
-well-taken photograph.</p>
-
-<p>The air had an alluring softness mingled with
-its tang of winter that made one long to take a walk
-anywhere out into the world, just for the joy of
-being and doing. A meadow-lark shot up from
-somewhere to a telegraph pole, let go a blithe note,
-and hurried on. It was glorious. The exhilaration
-filled Gordon’s blood.</p>
-
-<p>And here was the chance he craved to slip away
-from the train before it reached a place where he
-could be discovered. If he had but thought to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>
-bring his suit-case! He could slip back now without
-being noticed and get it! He could even go without
-it! But—he could not leave her that way—could
-he? Ought he? Perhaps he ought—— But it
-would not do to leave his suit-case with her, for
-it contained letters addressed to his real name. An
-explanation would of course be demanded, and he
-could never satisfy a loving mother and brother for
-having left a helpless girl in such a situation—even
-if he could satisfy his own conscience, which he
-knew he never could. He simply could not leave
-her, and yet he <i>must</i> get away from that train as
-soon as possible. Perhaps this was the only opportunity
-he would have before reaching Buffalo, and
-it was very risky, indeed dangerous, to dare enter
-Buffalo. It was a foregone conclusion that there
-would be private detectives ready to meet the train
-in Buffalo with full descriptions and particulars and
-only too ready to make way with him if they could
-do so without being found out. He looked nervously
-back at the door of the car. Dared he attempt
-to waken her and say that they had made a mistake
-and must change cars? Was she well enough?
-And where could they go?</p>
-
-<p>He looked off toward the landscape for answer
-to his question.</p>
-
-<p>They were decidedly in the country. The train<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>
-stood at the top of a high embankment of cinders,
-below which was a smooth country road running
-parallel to the railroad for some distance till it met
-another road at right angles to it, which stretched
-away between thrifty meadow-lands to a nestling
-village. The glorified stream he had first noticed
-far up the valley glinted narrower here in the morning
-light, with a suggestion of watercress and forget-me-nots
-in its fringes as it veered away under
-a bridge toward the village and hid itself in a tangle
-of willows and cat-tails.</p>
-
-<p>How easy it would be to slide down that embankment,
-and walk out that road over the bridge to the
-village, where of course a conveyance of some sort
-could be hired to bear him to another railroad town
-and thence to—Pittsburgh, perhaps, where he could
-easily get a train to Washington. How easy if only
-he were not held by some invisible hands to care for
-the sweet sleeper inside the car! And yet, for her
-sake as well as his own, he must do something, and
-that right speedily.</p>
-
-<p>He was standing thus in deep meditation, looking
-off at the little village which seemed so near and
-yet would be so far for her to walk, when he was
-pervaded with that strange sense of some one near.
-For an instant he resisted the desire to lift his eyes
-and prove to himself that no one was present in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>
-doorway which a moment before he knew had been
-unoccupied. Then, frowning at his own nervousness,
-he turned.</p>
-
-<p>She stood there in all the beauty of her fresh
-young girlhood, a delicate pallor on her cheeks, and
-a deep sadness in her great dark eyes, which were
-fixed upon him intently, in a sort of puzzled study.
-She was fully dressed, even to her hat and gloves.
-Every wave of her golden hair lay exquisitely in
-place under the purple hat, as though she might
-have taken an hour or two at her toilet; yet she had
-made it with excited haste, and with trembling fingers,
-determined to have it accomplished before the
-return of her dreaded liege lord.</p>
-
-<p>She had sprung from her berth the instant he
-closed the door upon her, and fastened the little
-catch to bar him out. She had dashed cold water
-into her face, fastened her garments hurriedly, and
-tossed the glory of her hair into place with a few
-touches and what hairpins she could find on the
-floor. Then putting on her hat, coat, and gloves,
-she had followed him into the outer air. She had
-a feeling that she must have air to breathe or she
-would suffocate. A wild desire filled her to go alone
-into the great out-of-doors. Oh, if she but dared to
-run away from him! But that she might not do, for
-all his threats would then probably be made good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>
-by him upon her dear mother and brother. No, she
-must be patient and bear to the end all that was set
-down for her. But she would get out and breathe
-a little before he returned. He had very likely gone
-into the smoker. She remembered that the George
-of old had been an inveterate smoker of cigarettes.
-She would have time for a taste of the morning
-while he had his smoke. And if he returned and
-found her gone what mattered it? The inevitable
-beginning of conversations which she so dreaded
-would be put off for a time.</p>
-
-<p>She never thought to come upon him standing
-thus alone, looking off at the beauty of the morning
-as if he enjoyed it. The sight of him held her still,
-watching, as his sleeping face had held her gaze
-earlier in the morning. How different he was from
-what she had expected! How the ten years had
-changed him! One could almost fancy it might
-have changed his spirit also—but for those letters—those
-terrible letters! The writer of those letters
-could not change, except for the worse!
-And yet, he was handsome, intellectual looking,
-kindly in his bearing, appreciative of the beauty
-about him—she could not deny it. It was most
-astonishing. He had lost that baggy look under
-his eyes, and the weak, selfish, cruel pout of lip
-she remembered so keenly.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>Then he turned, and a smile of delight and welcome
-lit up his face. In spite of herself, she could
-not keep an answering smile from glimmering
-faintly in her own.</p>
-
-<p>“What! You up and out here?” he said, hastening
-closer to the step. “How are you feeling
-this morning? Better, I’m sure, or you would not
-be here so early.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I had to get out to the air,” she said.
-“I couldn’t stand the car another minute. I wish
-we could walk the rest of the way.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you?” he said, with a quick, surprised
-appreciation in his voice. “I was just wishing something
-like that myself. Do you see that beautiful
-straight road down there? I was longing to slide
-down this bank and walk over to that little village
-for breakfast. Then we could get an auto, perhaps,
-or a carriage, to take us on to another train. If
-you hadn’t been so ill last night, I might have proposed
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Could we?” she asked, earnestly. “I should
-like it so much;” and there was eagerness in her
-voice. “What a lovely morning!” Her eyes were
-wistful, like the eyes of those who weep and wonder
-why they may not laugh, since sunshine is still
-yellow.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>“Of course we could,” he said, “if you were
-only able.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I’m able enough. I should much rather
-do that than to go back into that stuffy car. But
-wouldn’t they think it awfully queer of us to run
-away from the train this way?”</p>
-
-<p>“They needn’t know anything about it,” he
-declared, like a boy about to play truant. “I’ll slip
-back in the car and get our suit-cases. Is there anything
-of yours I might be in danger of leaving
-behind?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I put everything in my suit-case before I
-came out,” she said, listlessly, as though she had
-already lost her desire to go.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m afraid you are not able,” he said, pausing
-solicitously as he scaled the steps.</p>
-
-<p>She was surprised at his interest in her welfare.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, of course I am,” she said, insistently.
-“I have often taken longer walks than that looks to
-be, and I shall feel much better for being out. I
-really feel as if I couldn’t stand it any longer in
-there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good! Then, we’ll try it!”</p>
-
-<p>He hurried in for the baggage and left her
-standing on the cinder roadbed beside the train looking
-off at the opening morning.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was just at that instant that the thick-set man
-in his berth not ten feet away became broadly conscious
-of the unwonted stillness of the train and the
-cessation of motion that had lulled him to such
-sound repose. So does a tiny, sharp sound strike
-upon our senses and bring them into life again
-from sleep, making us aware of a state of things
-that has been going on for some time perhaps without
-our realization. The sound that roused him
-may have been the click of the stateroom latch as
-Gordon opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>The shades were down in the man’s berth and
-the curtains drawn close. The daylight had not
-as yet penetrated through their thickness. But once
-awake his senses were immediately on the alert. He
-yawned, stretched and suddenly arrested another
-yawn to analyze the utter stillness all about him. A
-sonorous snore suddenly emphasized the quiet of
-the car, and made him aware of all the occupants of
-all those curtained apartments. His mind went
-over a quick résumé of the night before, and detailed
-him at once to duty.</p>
-
-<p>Another soft clicking of the latch set him to
-listening and his bristly shocked head was stuck<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>
-instantly out between the curtains into the aisle,
-eyes toward the stateroom door, just in time to see
-that a man was stealing quietly down the passageway
-out of the end door, carrying two suit-cases and
-an umbrella. It was his man. He was sure instantly,
-and his mind grew frantic with the thought.
-Almost he had outdone himself through foolish
-sleep.</p>
-
-<p>He half sprang from his berth, then remembered
-that he was but partly dressed, and jerked back
-quickly to grab his clothes, stopping in the operation
-of putting them on to yank up his window shade
-with an impatient click and flatten his face against
-the window-pane!</p>
-
-<p>Yes, there they were down on the ground outside
-the train, both of them; man, woman, baggage
-and all slipping away from him while he slept peacefully
-and let them go! The language of his mind
-at that point was hot with invectives.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had made his way back to the girl’s side
-without meeting any porters or wakeful fellow-passengers.
-But a distant rumbling greeted his
-ears. The waited-for express was coming. If they
-were to get away, it must be done at once or their
-flight would be discovered, and perhaps even prevented.
-It certainly was better not to have it known
-where they got off. He had taken the precaution to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>
-close the stateroom door behind him and so it might
-be some time before their absence would be discovered.
-Perhaps there would be other stops before
-the train reached Buffalo, in which case their track
-would not easily be followed. He had no idea that
-the evil eye of his pursuer was even then upon him.</p>
-
-<p>Celia was already on the ground, looking off
-toward the little village wistfully. Just how it was
-to make her lot any brighter to get out of the train
-and run away to a strange little village she did not
-quite explain to herself, but it seemed to be a relief
-to her pent-up feelings. She was half afraid that
-George might raise some new objection when he
-returned.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon swung himself down on the cinder path,
-scanning the track either way. The conductor and
-brakemen were not in sight. Far in the distance
-a black speck was rushing down upon them. Gordon
-could hear the vibration of the rail of the second
-track, upon which he placed his foot as he helped
-Celia across. In a moment more the train would
-pass. It was important that they should be down
-the embankment, out of sight. Would the delicate
-girl not be afraid of the steep incline?</p>
-
-<p>She hesitated for just an instant at the top, for
-it was very steep. Then, looking up at him, she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>
-saw that he expected her to go down with him. She
-gave a little frightened gasp, set her lips, and started.</p>
-
-<p>He held her as well as he could with two suit-cases
-and an umbrella clutched in his other hand,
-and finally, as the grade grew steeper, he let go the
-baggage altogether, and it slid briskly down by itself,
-while he devoted himself to steadying the girl’s now
-inevitable and swift descent.</p>
-
-<p>It certainly was not an ideal way of travelling,
-this new style of “gravity” road, but it landed them
-without delay, though much shaken and scratched,
-and divested of every vestige of dignity. It was
-impossible not to laugh, and Celia’s voice rang out
-merrily, showing that she had not always wept and
-looked sorrowful.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you much hurt?” asked Gordon anxiously,
-holding her hands and looking down at her tenderly.</p>
-
-<p>Before she could reply, the express train roared
-above them, drowning their voices and laughter;
-and when it was past they saw their own train take
-up its interrupted way grumblingly, and rapidly
-move off. If the passengers on those two trains
-had not been deeply wrapped in slumber, they might
-have been surprised to see two fashionably attired
-young persons, with hats awry and clasped hands,
-laughing in a country road at five o’clock of a May
-morning. But only one was awake, and by the time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>
-the two in the road below remembered to look up
-and take notice, the trains were rapidly disappearing.</p>
-
-<p>The girl had been deeply impressed with Gordon’s
-solicitude for her. It was so out of keeping
-with his letters. He had never seemed to care
-whether she suffered or not. In all the arrangements,
-he had said what <i>he</i> wanted, indeed what he
-<i>would have</i>, with an implied threat in the framing
-of his sentence in case she dared demur. Never had
-there been the least expression of desire for her
-happiness. Therefore it was something of a surprise
-to find him so gentle and thoughtful of her. Perhaps,
-after all, he would not prove so terrible to
-live with as she had feared. And yet—how could
-anyone who wrote those letters have any alleviating
-qualities? It could not be. She must harden herself
-against him. Still, if he would be outwardly
-decent to her, it would make her lot easier, of course.</p>
-
-<p>But her course of mental reasoning was broken
-in upon by his stout denunciations of himself.</p>
-
-<p>“I ought not to have allowed you to slide down
-there,” he declared. “It was terrible, after what
-you went through last night. I didn’t realize how
-steep and rough it was. Indeed I didn’t. I don’t
-see how you ever can forgive me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I’m not hurt,” she said gently, astonished
-at his solicitation. There was a strange lump<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>
-in her throat brought by his kindness, which threatened
-tears. Just why should kindness from an unexpected
-quarter bring tears?</p>
-
-<p>“I’m only a little shaken up,” she went on as she
-saw a real anxiety in his brown eyes, “and I don’t
-mind it in the least. I think it was rather fun, don’t
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>A faint glimmer of a smile wavered over the corners
-of her mouth, and Gordon experienced a sudden
-desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. It was a
-strange new feeling. He had never had any such
-thought about Julia Bentley.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I—why, yes, I guess so, if you’re sure
-you’re not hurt.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit,” she said, and then, for some unexplained
-reason, they both began to laugh. After that
-they felt better.</p>
-
-<p>“If your shoes are as full of these miserable cinders
-as mine are, they need emptying,” declared
-Gordon, shaking first one well-shod foot and then
-the other, and looking ruefully at the little velvet
-boots of the lady.</p>
-
-<p>“Suppose you sit down”—he looked about for a
-seat, but the dewy grass was the only resting place
-visible. He pitched upon the suit-cases and improvised
-a chair. “Now, sit down and let me take them
-off for you.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>He knelt in the road at her feet as she obeyed,
-protesting that she could do it for herself. But he
-overruled her, and began clumsily to unbutton the
-tiny buttons, holding the timid little foot firmly,
-almost reverently, against his knee.</p>
-
-<p>He drew the velvet shoe softly off, and, turning
-it upside down, shook out the intruding cinders, put
-a clumsy finger in to make sure they were all gone;
-then shyly, tenderly, passed his hand over the sole
-of the fine silk-stockinged foot that rested so lightly
-on his knee, to make sure no cinders clung to it. The
-sight and touch of that little foot stirred him deeply.
-He had never before been called upon to render service
-so intimate to any woman, and he did it now
-with half-averted gaze and the utmost respect in his
-manner. As he did it he tried to speak about the
-morning, the departing train, the annoying cinders,
-anything to make their unusual position seem natural
-and unstrained. He felt deeply embarrassed,
-the more so because of his own double part in this
-queer masquerade.</p>
-
-<p>Celia sat watching him, strangely stirred. Her
-wonder over his kindness grew with each moment,
-and her prejudices almost dissolved. She could not
-understand it. There must be something more he
-wanted of her, for George Hayne had never been
-kind in the past unless he wanted something of her.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>
-She dreaded lest she should soon find it out. Yet
-he did not look like a man who was deceiving her.
-She drew a deep sigh. If only it were true, and he
-were good and kind, and had never written those
-awful letters! How good and dear it would be
-to be tenderly cared for this way! Her lips drooped
-at the corners, and her eyelids drooped in company
-with the sigh; then Gordon looked up in great
-distress.</p>
-
-<p>“You are tired!” he declared, pausing in his
-attempt to fasten the little pearl buttons. “I have
-been cruel to let you get off the train!”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I’m not,” said the girl, brightening with
-sudden effort. At least, she would not spoil the
-kindness while it lasted. It was surely better than
-what she had feared.</p>
-
-<p>“You never can button those shoes with your
-fingers,” she laughed, as he redoubled his efforts
-to capture a tiny disc of pearl and set it into its small
-velvet socket. “Here! I have a button-hook in
-my hand-bag. Try this.”</p>
-
-<p>She produced a small silver instrument from a
-gold-link bag on her arm and handed it to him. He
-took it helplessly, trying first one end and then the
-other, and succeeding with neither.</p>
-
-<p>“Here, let me show you,” she laughed, pulling
-off one glove. Her white fingers grasped the silver<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>
-button-hook, and flashed in and out of the velvet
-holes, knitting the little shoe to the foot in no time.
-He watched the process in humble wonder, and she
-would not have been a human girl not to have
-been flattered with his interest and admiration. For
-the minute she forgot who and what he was, and let
-her laugh ring out merrily; and so with shy audacity
-he assayed to take off the other shoe.</p>
-
-<p>They really felt quite well acquainted and as if
-they were going on a day’s picnic, when they finally
-gathered up their belongings and started down the
-road. Gordon summoned all his ready wit and intellect
-to brighten the walk for her, though he found
-himself again and again on the brink of referring
-to his Washington life, or some other personal
-matter that would have brought a wondering question
-to her lips. He had decided that he must not
-tell her who he was until he could put her in an independent
-position, where she could get away from him
-at once if she chose. He was bound to look after
-her until he could place her in good hands, or at least
-where she could look after herself, and it was better
-to carry it out leaving her to think what she pleased
-until he could tell her everything. If all went well,
-they might be able to catch a Pittsburgh train that
-night and be in Washington the next day. Then, his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>
-message delivered, he would tell her the whole story.
-Until then he must hold his peace.</p>
-
-<p>They went gaily down the road, the girl’s pale
-cheeks beginning to flush with the morning and
-the exercise. She was not naturally delicate, and
-her faint the night before had been the result of a
-series of heavy strains on a heart burdened with terrible
-fear. The morning and his kindness had made
-her forget for the time that she was supposed to be
-walking into a world of dread and sacrifice.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“The year’s at the spring,</div>
-<div class="verse">The day’s at the morn,”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>quoted Gordon gaily,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“Morning’s at seven;</div>
-<div class="verse">The hill-side’s dew-pearled——”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>He waved an umbrella off to where a hill flashed
-back a thousand lights from its jewelled grass-blades
-thickly set.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“The lark’s on the wing;</div>
-<div class="verse">The snail’s on the thorn,”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>went on Celia suddenly catching his spirit, and pointing
-to a lark that darted up into the blue with a
-trill of the morning in his throat.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon turned appreciative eyes upon her. It
-was good to have her take up his favorite poet in that
-tone of voice—a tone that showed she too knew and
-loved Browning.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“God’s in his heaven,</div>
-<div class="verse">All’s right with the world,”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>finished Gordon in a quieter voice, looking straight
-into her eyes. “That seems very true, to-day,
-doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>The blue eyes wavered with a hint of shadow
-in them as they looked back into the brown ones.</p>
-
-<p>“Almost—perhaps,” she faltered wistfully.</p>
-
-<p>The young man wished he dared go behind that
-“almost—perhaps” and find out what she meant,
-but concluded it were better to bring back the smile
-and help her to forget for a little while at least.</p>
-
-<p>Down by the brook, they paused to rest, under a
-weeping willow, whose green-tinged plumes were
-dabbling in the brook. Gordon arranged the suit-cases
-for her to sit upon, then climbed down to the
-brookside and gathered a great bunch of forget-me-nots,
-blue as her eyes, and brought them to her.</p>
-
-<p>She looked at them in wonder, to think they grew
-out here, wild, untended. She had never seen them
-before, except in pots in the florist’s windows. She
-touched them delicately with the tips of her fingers,
-as if they were too ethereal for earth; then fastened
-them in the breast of her gown.</p>
-
-<p>“They exactly match your eyes!” he exclaimed
-involuntarily, and then wished he had not spoken,
-for she flushed and paled under his glance, until<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>
-he felt he had been unduly bold. He wondered why
-he had said that. He never had been in the habit
-of saying pretty things to girls, but this girl somehow
-called it from him. It was genuine. He sat a
-moment abashed, not knowing what to say next, as
-if he were a shy boy, and she did not help him, for
-her eyelashes drooped in a long becoming sweep over
-her cheeks, and she seemed for the moment not to
-be able to carry off the situation. He was not sure if
-she were displeased or not.</p>
-
-<p>Her heart had thrilled strangely as he spoke, and
-she was vexed with herself that it should be so. A
-man who had bullied and threatened her for three
-terrible months and forced her to marry him had no
-right to a thrill of her heart nor a look from her
-eyes, be he ever so kind for the moment. He certainly
-was nice and pleasant when he chose to be; she
-must watch herself, for never, never, must she yield
-weakly to his smooth overtures. Well did she know
-him. He had some reason for all this pleasantness.
-It would surely be revealed soon.</p>
-
-<p>She stiffened her lips and tried to look away from
-him to the purply-green hills; but the echo of his
-words came upon her again, and again her heart
-thrilled at them. What if—oh what if he were all
-right, and she might accept the admiration in his
-voice? And yet how could that be possible? The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>
-sweet color came into her cheeks again, and the tears
-flew quickly to her eyes, till they looked all sky and
-dew, and she dared not turn back to him.</p>
-
-<p>The silence remained unbroken, until a lark in the
-willow copse behind them burst forth into song and
-broke the spell that was upon them.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you offended at what I said?” he asked
-earnestly. “I am sorry if you did not like it. The
-words said themselves without my stopping to think
-whether you might not like it. Will you forgive
-me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” she said, lifting her forget-me-not eyes
-to his, “I am not offended. There is nothing to
-forgive. It was—beautiful!”</p>
-
-<p>Then his eyes spoke the compliment over again,
-and the thrill started anew in her heart, till her cheeks
-grew quite rosy, and she buried her face in the coolness
-of the tiny flowers to hide her confusion.</p>
-
-<p>“It was very true,” he said in a low, lover-like
-voice that sounded like a caress.</p>
-
-<p>“Oughtn’t we to hurry on to catch our train?”
-said Celia, suddenly springing to her feet. “I’m
-quite rested now.” She felt if she stayed there another
-moment she would yield to the spell he had cast
-upon her.</p>
-
-<p>With a dull thud of consciousness the man got
-himself to his feet and reminded himself that this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>
-was another man’s promised wife to whom he had
-been letting his soul go out.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let
-anything hinder you!” suddenly babbled out the
-little brook, and he gathered up his suit-cases and
-started on.</p>
-
-<p>“I am going to carry my suit-case,” declared a
-very decided voice behind him, and a small hand
-seized hold of its handle.</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon, you are not!” declared
-Gordon in a much more determined voice.</p>
-
-<p>“But they are too heavy for you—both of them—and
-the umbrella too,” she protested. “Give me
-the umbrella then.”</p>
-
-<p>But he would not give her even the umbrella,
-rejoicing in his strength to shield her and bear her
-burdens. As she walked beside him, she remembered
-vividly a morning when George Hayne had made
-her carry two heavy baskets, that his hands might
-be free to shoot birds. Could this be the same
-George Hayne?</p>
-
-<p>Altogether, it was a happy walk, and far shorter
-than either had expected it to be, though Gordon
-worried not a little about his frail companion before
-they came to the outskirts of the village, and kept
-begging her to sit down and rest again, but she
-would not. She was quite eager and excited about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>
-the strange village to which they were coming. Its
-outlying farm-houses were all so clean and white,
-with green blinds folded placidly over their front
-windows, and only their back doors astir. The cows
-all looked peaceful, and the dogs all seemed friendly.</p>
-
-<p>They walked up the village street, shaded in
-patches with flecks of sunshine through the young
-leaves. If anyone had told Celia Hathaway the
-night before that she would have walked and talked
-thus to-day with her bridegroom she would have
-laughed him to scorn. But now all unconsciously
-she had drifted into an attitude of friendliness with
-the man whom she had thought to hate all the rest
-of her life.</p>
-
-<p>One long, straight, maple-lined street, running
-parallel to the stream, comprised the village. They
-walked to the centre of it, and still saw no signs of a
-restaurant. A post-office, a couple of stores and a
-bakery made up the business portion of the town,
-and upon enquiry it appeared that there was no
-public eating house, the one hotel of the place having
-been sold at auction the week before on account of
-the death of the owner. The early village loungers
-stared disinterestedly at the phenomenal appearance
-in their midst of a couple of city folks with
-their luggage and no apparent means of transit except
-their two delicately shod feet. It presented a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>
-problem too grave to be solved unassisted, and
-there were solemn shakings of the head over them.
-At last one who had discouragingly stated the village
-lack of a public inn asked casually:</p>
-
-<p>“Hed a runaway?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no!” laughed Gordon pleasantly. “We
-didn’t travel with horses.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hed a puncture, then,” announced the village
-wiseacre, shifting from one foot to the other.</p>
-
-<p>“Wal, you come the wrong direction to git help,”
-said another languid listener. “Thur ain’t no garridge
-here. The feller what uset to keep it skipped
-out with Sam Galt’s wife a month ago. You’d
-ought to ’a’ turned back to Ashville. They got a
-good blacksmith there can tinker ye up.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is that so?” said Gordon interestedly. “Well
-now that’s too bad, but perhaps as it can’t be helped
-we’ll have to forget it. What’s the next town on
-ahead and how far?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sugar Grove’s two mile further on, and Milton’s
-five. They’ve got a garridge and a rest’rant to
-Milton, but that’s only sence the railroad built a
-junction there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Has anyone here a conveyance I could hire
-to take us to Milton?” questioned Gordon, looking
-anxiously about the indolent group.</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t want to drive to Milton for less’n<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>
-five dollars,” declared a lazy youth after a suitable
-pause.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” said Gordon. “How soon can you
-be ready, and what sort of a rig have you? Will
-it be comfortable for the lady?”</p>
-
-<p>The youth eyed the graceful woman in her dainty
-city dress scornfully. His own country lass was
-dressed far prettier to his mind; but the eyes of her,
-so blue, like the little weed-flowers at her breast,
-went to his head. His tongue was suddenly tied.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s all right! It’s as good’s you’ll get!” volunteered
-a sullen-faced man half sitting on a sugar
-barrel. He was of a type who preferred to see
-fashionable ladies uncomfortable.</p>
-
-<p>The youth departed for his “team” and after
-some enquiries Gordon found that he might be able
-to persuade the owner of the tiny white colonial cot
-across the street to prepare a “snack” for himself
-and his companion, so they went across the street
-and waited fifteen minutes in a dank little hair-cloth
-parlor adorned in funeral wreaths and knit tidies,
-for a delicious breakfast of poached eggs, coffee,
-home-made bread, butter like roses, and a comb of
-amber honey. To each the experience was a new
-one, and they enjoyed it together like two children,
-letting their eyes speak volumes of comments in
-the midst of the old lady’s volubility. Unconsciously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>
-by their experiences they were being brought into
-sympathy with each other.</p>
-
-<p>The “rig” when it arrived at the door driven
-by the blushing youth proved to be a high spring wagon
-with two seats. In the front one the youth
-lounged without a thought of assisting his passengers.
-Gordon swung the baggage up, and then lifted
-the girl into the back seat, himself taking the place
-beside her, and planting a firm hand and arm behind
-the backless seat, that she might feel more secure.</p>
-
-<p>That ride, with his arm behind her, was just
-one more link in the pretty chain of sympathy that
-was being welded about these two. Unconsciously
-more and more she began to droop, until when she
-grew very tired he seemed to know at once.</p>
-
-<p>“Just lean against my arm,” he said. “You
-must be very tired and it will help you bear the
-jolting.” He spoke as if his arm were made of wood
-or iron, and was merely one of his belongings, like
-an umbrella or suit-case. He made it seem quite the
-natural thing for her to lean against him. If he had
-claimed it as her right and privilege as wife, she
-would have recoiled from him for recalling to her
-the hated relation, and would have sat straight as a
-bean-pole the rest of the way, but, as it was, she
-sank back a trifle deprecatingly, and realized that it
-was a great help. In her heart she thanked him for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>
-making it possible for her to rest without entirely
-compromising her attitude toward him. There was
-nothing about it that suggested anything lover-like;
-it seemed just a common courtesy.</p>
-
-<p>Yet the strong arm almost trembled as he felt the
-precious weight against it, and he wished that the
-way were ten miles instead of five. Once, as Celia
-leaned forward to point to a particularly lovely bit
-of view that opened up as they wound around a
-curve in the road, they ran over a stone, and the
-wagon gave an unexpected jolt. Gordon reached
-his hand out to steady her, and she settled back to
-his arm with a sense of safety and being cared for
-that was very pleasant. Looking up shyly, she saw
-his eyes upon her, with that deep look of admiration
-and something more, and again that strange thrill of
-joy that had come when he gave her the forget-me-nots
-swept through her. She felt almost as if she
-were harboring a sinful thought when she remembered
-the letters he had written; but the joy of the
-day, and the sweetness of happiness for even a
-moment, when she had been for so long a time sad,
-was so pleasant that she let herself enjoy it and
-drift, refusing to think evil of him now, here, in
-this bright day. Thus like children on a picnic, they
-passed through Sugar Grove and came to the town
-of Milton, and there they bade their driver good-by,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>
-rewarding him with a crisp five-dollar bill. He drove
-home with a vision of smiles in forget-me-not eyes,
-and a marked inability to tell anything about his
-wonderful passengers who had filled the little village
-with awe and amazement, and had given no clue
-to anyone as to who or what they were.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">But</span> to go back to the pursuer, in his berth, baffled
-and frantic and raging. With hands that fumbled
-because of their very eagerness he sought to get
-into his garments, and find his shoes from the melée
-of blankets and other articles in the berth, all the
-time keeping one eye out of the window, for he
-must not let his prey get away from him now. He
-must watch and see what they were going to do.
-How fortunate that he had wakened in time for that.
-At least he would have a clue. Where was this?
-A station?</p>
-
-<p>He stopped operations once more to gaze off at
-the landscape, a desolate country scene to his city
-hardened eyes. Not a house in sight, nor a station.
-The spires of the distant village seemed like a mirage
-to him. This couldn’t be a station. What were
-those two doing down there anyway? Dared he
-risk calling the conductor and having him hold
-them? No, this affair must be kept absolutely quiet.
-Mr. Holman had said that if a breath of the matter
-came out it was worse than death for all concerned.
-He must just get off this train as fast as he could
-and follow them if they were getting away. It might
-be he could get the man in a lonely place—it would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>
-be easy enough to watch his chance and gag the
-lady—he had done such things before. He felt far
-more at home in such an affair than he had the night
-before at the Holman dinner-table. What a pity
-one of the others had not come along. It would be
-mere child’s play for two to handle those two who
-looked as if they would turn frightened at the first
-threat. However, he felt confident that he could
-manage the affair alone.</p>
-
-<p>He panted with haste and succeeded in getting
-the wrong legs into his trousers and having to begin
-all over again, his efforts greatly hampered by
-the necessity for watching out the window.</p>
-
-<p>Then came the distant rumble of an oncoming
-train, and an answering scream from his own engine.
-The two on the ground had crossed quickly over the
-second track and were looking down the steep embankment.
-Were they going down there? What
-fate that he was not ready to follow them at once!
-The train that was coming would pass—their own
-would start—and he could not get out. His opportunity
-was going from him and he could not find his
-shoes!</p>
-
-<p>Well what of it? He would go without! What
-were shoes in a time like this? Surely he could get
-along barefoot, and beg a pair at some farmhouse,
-or buy a pair at a country store. He must get out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>
-at any cost, shoes or no shoes. Grasping his coat
-which contained his money and valuables he sprang
-from his berth straight into the arms of the porter
-who was hurrying back to his car after having been
-out to gossip with a brakeman over the delay.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s de mattah, sah?” asked the astonished
-porter, rallying quickly from the shock and assuming
-his habitual courtesy.</p>
-
-<p>“My shoes!” roared the irate traveller. “What
-have you done with my shoes?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quiet, sah, please sah, you’ll wake de whole
-cyah,” said the porter. “I put yoh shoes under de
-berth sah, right whar I allus puts ’em aftah blackin’
-sah.”</p>
-
-<p>The porter stooped and extracted the shoes from
-beneath the curtain and the traveller, whose experience
-in Pullmans was small, grabbed them furiously
-and made for the door, shoes in hand, for with a
-snort and a lurch and a preliminary jar the train
-had taken up its motion, and a loud rushing outside
-proclaimed that the other train was passing.</p>
-
-<p>The porter, feeling that he had been treated with
-injustice, stood gazing reproachfully after the man
-for a full minute before he followed him to tell him
-that the wash-room was at the other end of the car
-and not down past the drawing-room as he evidently
-supposed.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>He found his man standing in stocking feet on
-the cold iron platform, his head out of the opening
-left in the vestibuled train, for when the porter came
-in he had drawn shut the outer door and slammed
-down the movable platform, making it impossible
-for anyone to get out. There was only the little
-opening the size of a window above the grating
-guard, and the man clung to it as if he would jump
-over it if he only dared. He was looking back over
-the track and his face was not good to see.</p>
-
-<p>He turned wildly upon the porter.</p>
-
-<p>“I want you to stop this train and let me off,” he
-shouted. “I’ve lost something valuable back there
-on the track. Stop the train quick, I tell you, or I’ll
-sue the railroad.”</p>
-
-<p>“What was it you lost?” asked the porter respectfully.
-He wasn’t sure but the man was half
-asleep yet.</p>
-
-<p>“It was a—my—why it was a very valuable
-paper. It means a fortune to me and several other
-people and I must go back and get it. Stop the train,
-I tell you, at once or I’ll jump out.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can’t stop de train sah, you’ll hev to see de
-conductah sah, ’bout dat. But I specks there’s
-mighty little prospec’ o’ gettin’ dis train stopped
-foh it gits to its destinashun sah. We’s one hour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>
-a’hind time now, sah, an’ he’s gotta make up foh
-we gits to Buff’lo.”</p>
-
-<p>The excited passenger railed and stormed until
-several sleepers were awakened and stuck curious
-sleepy countenances out from the curtains of their
-berths, but the porter was obdurate, and would not
-take any measures to stop the train, nor even call
-the conductor until the passenger promised to return
-quietly to his berth.</p>
-
-<p>The thick-set man was not used to obeying but
-he saw that he was only hindering himself and
-finally hurried back to his berth where he hastily
-parted the curtains, craning his neck to see back
-along the track and over the green valley growing
-smaller and smaller now in the distance. He could
-just make out two moving specks on the white winding
-ribbon of the road. He felt sure he knew the
-direction they were taking. If he only could get
-off that train he could easily catch them, for they
-would have no idea he was coming, and would take
-no precautions. If he had only wakened a few
-seconds sooner he would have been following them
-even now.</p>
-
-<p>Fully ten minutes he argued with the conductor,
-showing a wide incongruity between his language
-and his gentlemanly attire, but the conductor would
-do nothing but promise to set him down at a water<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>
-tower ten miles ahead where they had to slow up for
-water. He said sue or no sue he had his orders,
-and the thick-set man did not inspire him either to
-sympathy or confidence. The conductor had been
-many years on the road and generally knew when to
-stop his train and when to let it go on.</p>
-
-<p>Sullenly the thick-set man accepted the conductor’s
-decision and prepared to leave the train at the
-water tower, his eye out for the landmarks along
-the way as he completed his hasty toilet.</p>
-
-<p>He was in no pleasant frame of mind, having
-missed a goodly amount of his accustomed stimulants
-the night before, and seeing little prospect of
-either stimulants or breakfast before him. He was
-not built for a ten-mile walk over the cinders and
-his flabby muscles already ached at the prospect.
-But then, of course he would not have to go far before
-he found an automobile or some kind of conveyance
-to help him on his way. He looked eagerly
-from the window for indications of garages or
-stables, but the river wound its silver way among the
-gray green willow fringes, and the new grass shone
-a placid emerald plain with nothing more human
-than a few cows grazing here and there. Not even
-a horse that might be borrowed without his owner’s
-knowledge. It was a strange, forsaken spot, ten
-whole miles and no sign of any public livery! Off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>
-to the right and left he could see villages, but they
-were most of them too far away from the track to
-help him any. It began to look as if he must
-just foot it all the way. Now and then a small
-shanty or tiny dwelling whizzed by near at hand, but
-nothing that would relieve his situation.</p>
-
-<p>It occurred to him to go into the dining-car for
-breakfast, but even as he thought of it the conductor
-told him that the train would stop in two minutes and
-he must be ready to get off, for they did not stop
-long.</p>
-
-<p>He certainly looked a harmless creature, that
-thick-set man as he stood alone upon the cinder elevation
-and surveyed the landscape o’er. Ten miles
-from his quarry, alone on a stretch of endless ties
-and rails with a gleaming river mocking him down
-in the valley, and a laughing sky jeering overhead.
-He started down the shining track his temper a
-wreck, his mind in chaos, his soul at war with the
-world. The worst of it all was that the whole fault
-was his own for going to sleep. He began to fear
-that he had lost his chance. Then he set his ugly
-jaw and strode ahead.</p>
-
-<p>The morning sun poured down upon the thick-set
-man on his pilgrimage, and waxed hotter until noon.
-Trains whizzed mercilessly by and gave him no succor.
-Weary, faint, and fiercely thirsty he came at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>
-last to the spot where he was satisfied his quarry had
-escaped. He could see the marks of their rough
-descent in the steep cinder bank, and assaying the
-same himself came upon a shred of purple silk caught
-on a bramble at the foot.</p>
-
-<p>Puffing and panting, bruised and foot-sore, he
-sat down at the very place where Celia had stopped
-to have her shoes fastened, and mopped his purple
-brow, but there was triumph in his ugly eye, and
-after a few moment’s rest he trudged onward. That
-town over there ought to yield both conveyance and
-food as well as information concerning those he
-sought. He would catch them. They could never
-get away from him. He was on their track again,
-though hours behind. He would get them yet and
-no man should take his reward from him.</p>
-
-<p>Almost spent he came at last to the village, and
-ate a surprisingly large dish of beef and vegetable
-stew at the quaint little house where Celia and Gordon
-had breakfasted, but the old lady who served
-it to them was shy about talking, and though admitting
-that a couple of people had been there that morning
-she was non-committal about their appearance.
-They might have been young and good-looking and
-worn feathers in their hats, and they might not.
-She wasn’t one for noticing people’s appearance if
-they treated her civilly and paid their bills. Would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>
-he have another cup of coffee? He would, and also
-two more pieces of pie, but he got very little further
-information.</p>
-
-<p>It was over at the corner store where he finally
-went in search of something stronger than coffee
-that he further pursued his investigations.</p>
-
-<p>The loungers were still there. It was their only
-business in life and they were most diligent in it.
-They eyed the newcomer with a relish and settled
-back on their various barrels and boxes to enjoy
-whatever entertainment the gods were about to provide
-to relieve their monotonous existence.</p>
-
-<p>A house divided against itself cannot stand. This
-man’s elegant garments assumed for the nonce did
-not fit the rest of his general appearance which had
-been accentuated by his long, hot, dusty tramp. The
-high evening hat was jammed on the back of his head
-and bore a decided dent where it had rolled down the
-cinder embankment, his collar was wilted and lifeless,
-his white laundered tie at half mast, his coat
-awry, and his fine patent leather shoes which
-pinched were covered with dust and had caused a
-limp like the hardest tramp upon the road. Moreover,
-again the speech of the man betrayed him, and
-the keen-minded old gossips who were watching him
-suspiciously sized him up at once the minute he
-opened his mouth.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>“Saw anything of a couple of young folks walking
-down this way?” he enquired casually, pausing
-to light a cigar with which he was reinforcing himself
-for further travel.</p>
-
-<p>One man allowed that there might have passed
-such people that day. He hardly seemed willing to
-commit himself, but another vouchsafed the information
-that “Joe here driv two parties of thet
-description to Milton this mornin’—jes’ got back.
-Mebbe he could answer fer ’em.”</p>
-
-<p>Joe frowned. He did not like the looks of the
-thick-set man. He still remembered the forget-me-not
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p>But the stranger made instant request to be
-driven to Milton, offering ten dollars for the same
-when he found that his driver was reluctant, and
-that Milton was a railroad centre. A few keen questions
-had made him sure that his man had gone to
-Milton.</p>
-
-<p>Joe haggled, allowed his horse was tired, and he
-didn’t care about the trip twice in one day, but finally
-agreed to take the man for fifteen dollars, and sauntered
-off to get a fresh horse. He had no mind to
-be in a hurry. He had his own opinion about letting
-those two “parties” get out of the way before the
-third put in an appearance, but he had no mind to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>
-lose the fifteen dollars. It would help to buy the
-ring he coveted for his girl.</p>
-
-<p>In due time Joe rode leisurely up and the impatient
-traveller climbed into the high spring wagon
-and was driven away from the apathetic gaze of the
-country loungers, who unblinkingly took in the fact
-that Joe was headed toward Ashville, and evidently
-intended taking his fare to Milton by way of that
-village, a thirty-mile drive at least. The man would
-get the worth of his money in ride. A grim twinkle
-sat in their several eyes as the spring wagon turned
-the curve in the road and was lost to sight, and
-after due silence an old stager spoke:</p>
-
-<p>“Do you reckon that there was their sho-fur?”
-he requested languidly.</p>
-
-<p>“Naw!” replied a farmer’s son vigorously.
-“He wouldn’t try to showf all dolled up like that.
-He’s the rich dad comin’ after the runaways. Joe
-don’t intend he shell get ’em yet awhile. I reckon
-the ceremony’ll be over ’fore he steps in to interfere.”
-This lad went twice a month to Milton to
-the “movies” and was regarded as an authority
-on matters of romance. A pause showed that his
-theory had taken root in the minds of his auditors.</p>
-
-<p>“Wal, I reckon Joe thinks the longest way round
-is the shortest way home,” declared the old stager.
-“Joe never did like them cod-fish swells—but how<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>
-do you ’count fer the style o’ that gal? She wan’t
-like her dad one little bit.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, she’s ben to collidge I ’spose,” declared
-the youth. “They get all that off’n collidge.”</p>
-
-<p>“Serves the old man right fer sendin’ his gal to
-a fool collidge when she ought to a ben home learnin’
-to house-keep. I hope she gits off with her young
-man all right,” said a grim old lounger, and a cackle
-of laughter went round the group, which presently
-broke up, for this had been a strenuous day and
-all felt their need of rest; besides they wanted to
-get home and tell the news before some neighbor got
-ahead of them.</p>
-
-<p>All this time Celia and Gordon were touring
-Milton, serenely unconscious of danger near, or
-guardian angel of the name of Joe.</p>
-
-<p>Investigation disclosed the fact that there was a
-train for Pittsburgh about three in the afternoon.
-Gordon sent a code telegram to his chief, assuring
-him of the safety of the message, and of his own
-intention to proceed to Washington as fast as steam
-could carry him. Then he took the girl to a restaurant,
-where they mounted two high stools, and partook
-with an unusually ravenous appetite of nearly
-everything on the menu—corn soup, roast beef,
-baked trout, stewed tomatoes, cold slaw, custard,
-apple, and mince pies, with a cup of good country<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>
-coffee and real cream—all for twenty-five cents
-apiece.</p>
-
-<p>It was a very merry meal. Celia felt somehow
-as if for the time all memory of the past had been
-taken from her, and she were free to think and act
-happily in the present, without any great problems
-to solve or decisions to make. Just two young
-people off having a good time, they were, at least
-until that afternoon train came.</p>
-
-<p>After their dinner, they took a short walk to a
-tiny park where two white ducks disported themselves
-on a seven-by-nine pond, spanned by a rustic
-bridge where lovers had cut their initials. Gordon
-took out his knife and idly cut C. H. in the rough
-bark of the upper rail, while his companion sat on
-the little board seat and watched him. She was pondering
-over the fact that he had cut her initials, and
-not his own. It would have been like the George of
-old to cut his own and never once think of hers.
-And he had put but one H. Probably he thought of
-her now as Celia Hayne, without the Hathaway, or
-else he was so used to writing her name Celia Hathaway,
-that he was not thinking at all.</p>
-
-<p>Those letters! How they haunted her and clouded
-every bright experience that she fain would have
-grasped and held for a little hour.</p>
-
-<p>They were silent now, while he worked and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>
-she thought. He had finished the C. H., and was cutting
-another C, but instead of making another H,
-he carefully carved out the letter G. What was
-that for? C. G.? Who was C. G.? Oh, how
-stupid! George, of course. He had started a C
-by mistake. But he did not add the expected H. Instead
-he snapped his knife shut, laid his hand over
-the carving, and leaned over the rail.</p>
-
-<p>“Some time, perhaps, we’ll come here again,
-and remember,” he said, and then bethought him
-that he had no right to hope for any such anniversary.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” She looked up into his eyes, startled,
-troubled, the haunting of her fears in the shadows
-of the blue.</p>
-
-<p>He looked down into them and read her trouble,
-read and understood, and looked back his great
-desire to comfort her.</p>
-
-<p>His look carried further than he meant it should.
-For the third time that day a thrill of wonder
-and delight passed over her and left her fearful
-with a strange joy that she felt she should put from
-her.</p>
-
-<p>It was only an instant, that look, but it brought
-the bright color to both faces, and made Gordon
-feel the immediate necessity of changing the subject.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>“See those little fishes down there,” he said
-pointing to the tiny lake below them.</p>
-
-<p>Through a blur of tears, the girl looked down
-and saw the tiny, sharp-finned creatures darting here
-and there in a beam of sun like a small search-light
-set to show them off.</p>
-
-<p>She moved her hand on the rail to lean further
-over, and her soft fingers touched his hand for a
-moment. She would not draw them away quickly,
-lest she hurt him; why, she did not know, but she
-could not—would not—hurt him. Not now! The
-two hands lay side by side for a full minute, and the
-touch to Gordon was as if a roseleaf had kissed his
-soul. He had never felt anything sweeter. He
-longed to gather the little hand into his clasp and
-feel its pulses trembling there as he had felt it in
-the church the night before, but she was not his. He
-might not touch her till she had her choice of what
-to do, and she would never choose him, never, when
-she knew how he had deceived her.</p>
-
-<p>That one supreme moment they had of perfect
-consciousness, consciousness of the drawing of soul
-to soul, of the sweetness of that hovering touch of
-hands, of the longing to know and understand each
-other.</p>
-
-<p>Then a sharp whistle sounded, and a farmer’s
-boy with a new rake and a sack of corn on his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>
-shoulder came sauntering briskly down the road to
-the bridge. Instantly they drew apart, and Celia
-felt that she had been on the verge of disloyalty to
-her true self.</p>
-
-<p>They walked silently back to the station, each
-busy with his own thoughts, each conscious of that
-one moment when the other had come so near.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were a lot of people at the station. They
-had been to a family gathering of some sort from
-their remarks, and they talked loudly and much, so
-that the two stood apart—for the seats were all
-occupied—and had no opportunity for conversation,
-save a quiet smiling comment now and then
-upon the chatter about them, or the odd remarks
-they heard.</p>
-
-<p>There had come a constraint upon them, a withdrawing
-of each into his shell, each conscious of
-something that separated. Gordon struggled to prevent
-it, but he seemed helpless. Celia would smile
-in answer to his quiet remarks, but it was a smile
-of distance, such as she had worn early in the morning.
-She had quite found her former standing
-ground, with its fence of prejudice, and she was
-repairing the breaks through which she had gone
-over to the enemy during the day. She was bracing
-herself with dire reminders, and snatches from
-those terrible letters which were written in characters
-of fire in her heart. Never, never, could she
-care for a man who had done what this man had
-done. She had forgotten for a little while those
-terrible things he had said of her dear dead father.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>
-How could she have forgotten for an instant! How
-could she have let her hand lie close to the hand
-that had defiled itself by writing such things!</p>
-
-<p>By the time they were seated in the train, she was
-freezing in her attitude, and poor Gordon sat miserably
-beside her and tried to think what he had done
-to offend her. It was not his fault that her hand had
-lain near his on the rail. She had put it there herself.
-Perhaps she expected him to put his over it,
-to show her that he cared as a bridegroom should
-care—as he did care, in reality, if he only had the
-right. And perhaps she was hurt that he had stood
-coolly and said or done nothing. But he could
-not help it.</p>
-
-<p>Much to Gordon’s relief, the train carried a parlor-car,
-and it happened on this particular day to be
-almost deserted save for a deaf old man with a florid
-complexion and a gold knobbed cane who slumbered
-audibly at the further end from the two chairs
-Gordon selected. He established his companion
-comfortably, disposed of the baggage, and sat down,
-but the girl paid no heed to him. With a sad, set
-face, she stared out of the window, her eyes seeming
-to see nothing. For two hours she sat so, he making
-remarks occasionally, to which she made little or
-no reply, until he lapsed into silence, looking at
-her with troubled eyes. Finally, just as they neared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>
-the outskirts of Pittsburgh, he leaned softly forward
-and touched her coat-sleeve, to attract her
-attention.</p>
-
-<p>“Have I offended—hurt—you in any way?”
-he asked gently. She turned toward him, and her
-eyes were brimming full of tears.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” she said, and her lips were trembling.
-“No, you have been—most—kind—but—but I cannot
-forget <i>those letters</i>!” She ended with a sob
-and put up her handkerchief quickly to stifle it.</p>
-
-<p>“Letters?” he asked helplessly. “What
-letters?”</p>
-
-<p>“The letters you wrote me. All the letters of
-the last five months. I cannot forget them. I can
-<i>never</i> forget them! How could you <i>think</i> I could?”</p>
-
-<p>He looked at her anxiously, not knowing what
-to say, and yet he must say something. The time
-had come when some kind of an understanding, some
-clearing up of facts, must take place. He must go
-cautiously, but he must find out what was the matter.
-He could not see her suffer so. There must
-be some way to let her know that so far as he was
-concerned she need suffer nothing further and that
-he would do all in his power to set her right with
-her world.</p>
-
-<p>But letters! He had written no letters. His face
-lighted up with the swift certainty of one thing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>
-about which he had not dared to be sure. She still
-thought him the man she had intended to marry.
-She was not therefore troubled about that phase of
-the question. It was strange, almost unbelievable,
-but it was true that he personally was not responsible
-for the trouble in her eyes. What trouble she
-might feel when she knew all, he had yet to find out,
-but it was a great relief to be sure of so much. Still,
-something must be said.</p>
-
-<p>“Letters!” he repeated again stupidly, and then
-added with perplexed tone: “Would you mind telling
-me just what it was in the letters that hurt
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>She turned eyes of astonishment on him.</p>
-
-<p>“How can you ask?” she said almost bitterly.
-“You surely must know how terrible they were to
-me! You could not be the man you have seemed
-to be to-day if you did not know what you were
-doing to me in making all those terrible threats.
-You must know how cruel they were.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid I don’t understand,” he said earnestly,
-the trouble still most apparent in his eyes,
-“Would you mind being a little more explicit?
-Would you mind telling me exactly what you think
-I wrote you that sounded like a threat?”</p>
-
-<p>He asked the question half hesitatingly, because
-he was not quite sure whether he was justified in thus<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>
-obtaining private information under false pretenses,
-and yet he felt that he must know just what troubled
-her or he could never help her; and he was sure that
-if she knew he was an utter stranger, even a kindly
-one, those gentle lips would never open to inform
-him upon her torturer. As it was she could tell him
-her trouble with a perfectly clear conscience, thinking
-she was telling it to the man who knew all
-about it. But his hesitation about prying into an
-utter stranger’s private affairs even with a good
-motive, gave him an air of troubled dignity, and
-real anxiety to know his fault that puzzled the girl
-more than all that had gone before.</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot understand how you can ask such a
-question, since it has been the constant subject of
-discussion in all our letters!” she replied, sitting up
-with asperity and drying her tears. She was on the
-verge of growing angry with him for his petty, wilful
-misunderstanding of words whose meaning she felt
-he must know well.</p>
-
-<p>“I do ask it,” he said quietly, “and, believe me,
-I have a good motive in doing so.”</p>
-
-<p>She looked at him in surprise. It was impossible
-to be angry with those kindly eyes, even though he
-did persist in a wilful stupidity.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, since you wish it stated once more
-I will tell you,” she declared, the tears welling again<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>
-into her eyes. “You first demanded that I marry
-you—demanded—without any pretense whatever of
-caring for me—with a hidden threat in your demand
-that if I did not, you would bring some dire calamity
-upon me by means that were already in your power.
-You took me for the same foolish little girl whom
-you had delighted to tease for years before you went
-abroad to live. And when I refused you, you told
-me that you could not only take away from my
-mother all the property which she had inherited
-from her brother, by means of a will made just
-before my uncle’s death, and unknown except to his
-lawyer and you; but that you could and would
-blacken my dear dead father’s name and honor, and
-show that every cent that belonged to Mother and
-Jefferson and myself was stolen property. When
-I challenged you to prove any such thing against my
-honored father, you went still further and threatened
-to bring out a terrible story and prove it with
-witnesses who would swear to anything you said.
-You knew my father’s white life, you as much as
-owned your charges were false, and yet you dared
-to send me a letter from a vile creature who pretended
-that she was his first wife, and who said
-she could prove that he had spent much of his time
-in her company. You knew the whole thing was
-a falsehood, but you dared to threaten to make this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>
-known through the newspapers if I did not marry
-you. You realized that I knew that, even though few
-people and no friends would believe such a thing of
-my father, such a report in the papers—false though
-it was—would crush my mother to death. You
-knew that I would give my life to save her, and so
-you had me in your power, as you have me now.
-You have always wanted me in your power, just
-because you love to torture, and now you have me.
-But you cannot make me forget what you have
-done. I have given my life but I cannot give any
-more. If it is not sufficient you will have to do your
-worst.”</p>
-
-<p>She dropped her face into the little wet handkerchief,
-and Gordon sat with white, drawn countenance
-and clenched hands. He was fairly trembling
-with indignation toward the villain who had thus
-dared impose upon this delicate flower of womanhood.
-He longed to search the world over for the
-false bridegroom; and, finding, give him his just
-dues.</p>
-
-<p>And what should he do or say? Dared he tell
-her at once who he was and trust to her kind heart
-to forgive his terrible blunder and keep his secret till
-the message was safely delivered? Dared he? Had
-he any right? No, the secret was not his to divulge
-either for his own benefit or for any other’s. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>
-must keep that to himself. But he must help her
-in some way.</p>
-
-<p>At last he began to speak, scarcely knowing what
-he was about to say:</p>
-
-<p>“It is terrible, <i>terrible</i>, what you have told me.
-To have written such things to one like you—in fact,
-to anyone on earth—seems to me unforgivable. It
-is the most inhuman cruelty I have ever heard of.
-You are fully justified in hating and despising the
-man who wrote such words to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then, why did you write them?” she burst
-forth. “And how can you sit there calmly and
-talk that way about it, as if you had nothing to do
-with the matter?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because I never wrote those letters,” he said,
-looking her steadily, earnestly, in the eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“You never wrote them!” she exclaimed excitedly.
-“You dare to deny it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I dare to deny it.” His voice was quiet, earnest,
-convincing.</p>
-
-<p>She looked at him, dazed, bewildered, indignant,
-sorrowful. “But you cannot deny it,” she said, her
-fragile frame trembling with excitement. “I have
-the letters all in my suit-case. You cannot deny
-your own handwriting. I have the last awful one—the
-one in which you threatened Father’s good name—here
-in my hand-bag. I dared not put it with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>
-rest, and I had no opportunity to destroy it before
-leaving home. I felt as if I must always keep it with
-me, lest otherwise its awful secret would somehow
-get out. There it is. Read it and see your own name
-signed to the words you say you did not write!”</p>
-
-<p>While she talked, her trembling fingers had
-taken a folded, crumpled letter from her little hand-bag,
-and this she reached over and laid upon the
-arm of his chair.</p>
-
-<p>“Read it,” she said. “Read it and see that
-you cannot deny it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should rather not read it,” he said. “I do
-not need to read it to deny that I ever wrote such
-things to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I insist that you read it,” said the girl.</p>
-
-<p>“If you insist I will read it,” he said, taking the
-letter reluctantly and opening it.</p>
-
-<p>She sat watching him furtively through the tears
-while he read, saw the angry flush steal into his
-cheeks as the villainy of a fellow man was revealed
-to him through the brief, coarse, cruel epistle, and
-she mistook the flush for one of shame.</p>
-
-<p>Then his true brown eyes looked up and met her
-tearful gaze steadily, a fine anger burning in them.</p>
-
-<p>“And you think I wrote that!” he said, a something
-in his voice she could not understand.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>“What else could I think? It bears your signature,”
-she answered coldly.</p>
-
-<p>“The letter is vile,” he said, “and the man who
-wrote it is a blackguard, and deserves the utmost that
-the law allows for such offences. With your permission,
-I shall make it my business to see that he gets it.”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean?” she said, wide-eyed.
-“How could you punish yourself? You cannot still
-deny that you wrote the letter.”</p>
-
-<p>“I still deny that I wrote it, or ever saw it until
-you handed it to me just now.”</p>
-
-<p>The girl looked at him, nonplussed, more than
-half convinced, in spite of reason.</p>
-
-<p>“But isn’t that your handwriting?”</p>
-
-<p>“It is not. Look!”</p>
-
-<p>He took out his fountain pen, and, holding the
-letter on the arm of her chair, he wrote rapidly in his
-natural hand her own name and address beneath the
-address on the envelope, then held it up to her.</p>
-
-<p>“Do they look alike?”</p>
-
-<p>The two writings were as utterly unlike as possible,
-the letter being addressed in an almost unreadable
-scrawl, and the fresh writing standing fine and
-clear, in a script that spoke of character and business
-ability. Even a child could see at a glance that the
-two were not written by the same hand—and yet
-of course, it might have been practised for the purpose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>
-of deception. This thought flashed through
-the minds of both even as he held it out for her
-to look.</p>
-
-<p>She looked from the envelope to his eyes and back
-to the letter, startled, not knowing what to think.</p>
-
-<p>But before either of them had time for another
-word the conductor, the porter, and several people
-from the car behind came hurriedly through, and
-they realized that while they talked the train had
-come to a halt, amid the blazing electric lights of
-a great city station.</p>
-
-<p>“Why,” said Gordon, startled, “we must have
-reached Pittsburgh. Is this Pittsburgh?” he called
-out to the vanishing porter.</p>
-
-<p>“Yas sah!” yelled the porter, putting his head
-around the curve of the passageway. “You bettah
-hurry sah, foh dis train goes on to Cincinnati pretty
-quick. We’s late gittin’ in you see.”</p>
-
-<p>Neither of them had noticed a man in rough
-clothes with slouch hat and hands in his pockets
-who had boarded the train a few miles back and
-walked through the car several times eyeing them
-keenly. He stuck his head in at the door now furtively
-and drew back quickly again out of sight.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon hurriedly gathered up the baggage, and
-they went out of the car, the porter rushing back as
-they reached the door, to assist them and get a last<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>
-tip. There was no opportunity to say anything more,
-as they mingled with the crowd, until the porter
-landed their baggage in the great station and hurried
-back to his train. The man with the slouch hat followed
-and stood unobtrusively behind them.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon looked down at the white, drawn face
-of the girl, and his heart was touched with compassion
-for her trouble. He must make her some satisfactory
-explanation at once that would set her heart
-at rest, but he could not do it here, for every seat
-about them was filled with noisy chattering folk. He
-stooped and whispered low and tenderly:</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t worry, little girl! Just try to trust me,
-and I will explain it all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can you explain it?” she asked anxiously, as
-if catching at a rope thrown out to save her life.</p>
-
-<p>“Perfectly,” he said, “if you will be patient and
-trust me. But we cannot talk here. Just wait in this
-seat until I see if I can get the stateroom on the
-sleeper.”</p>
-
-<p>He left her with his courteous bow, and she sat
-watching his tall, fine figure as he threaded his way
-among the crowds to the Pullman window, her heart
-filled with mingling emotions. In spite of her
-reason, a tiny bit of hope for the future was springing
-up in her heart and without her own will she
-found herself inclined to trust him. At least it was
-all she could do at present.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Back</span> at Milton an hour before, when the shades
-of dusk were falling and a slender moon hung
-timidly on the edge of the horizon, a horse drawing
-a spring wagon ambled deliberately into town and
-came to a reluctant halt beside the railroad station,
-having made a wide détour through the larger part
-of the county on the way to that metropolis.</p>
-
-<p>The sun had been hot, the road much of it rough,
-and the jolts over stones and bumps had not added
-to the comfort of the thick-set man, already bruised
-and weary from his travels. Joe’s conversation had
-not ceased. He had given his guest a wide range
-of topics, discoursing learnedly on the buckwheat
-crop and the blight that might be expected to assail
-the cherry trees. He pointed out certain portions
-of land infested with rattlesnakes, and told blood-curdling
-stories of experiences with stray bears
-and wild cats in a maple grove through which they
-passed till the passenger looked furtively behind
-him and urged the driver to hurry a little faster.</p>
-
-<p>Joe, seeing his gullibility, only made his stories
-of country life the bigger, for the thick-set man,
-though bold as a lion in his own city haunts, was a
-coward in the unknown world of the country.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>When the traveler looking at his watch urged
-Joe to make haste and asked how many miles further
-Milton was, Joe managed it that the horse should
-stumble on a particularly stony bit of road. Then
-getting down gravely from the wagon he examined
-the horse’s feet each in turn, shaking his head sadly
-over the left fore foot.</p>
-
-<p>“Jes’ ’z I ’sposed,” he meditated dreamily.
-“Stone bruise! Lame horse! Don’t believe I ought
-to go on. Sorry, but it’ll be the ruination of the
-horse. You ain’t in a hurry I hope.”</p>
-
-<p>The passenger in great excitement promised to
-double the fare if the young man would get another
-horse and hurry him forward, and after great professions
-of doubt Joe gave in and said he would try
-the horse, but it wouldn’t do to work him hard.
-They would have to let him take his time. He
-couldn’t on any account leave the horse behind anywhere
-and get a fresh one because it belonged to his
-best friend and he promised to bring it back safe and
-sound. They would just take their time and go
-slow and see if the horse could stand it. He wouldn’t
-think of trying it if it weren’t for the extra money
-which he needed.</p>
-
-<p>So the impatient traveler was dragged fuming
-along weary hour after weary hour through the
-monotonous glory of a spring afternoon of which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>
-he saw nothing but the dust of the road as he tried
-to count the endless miles. Every mile or two Joe
-would descend from the wagon seat and fuss around
-the horse’s leg, the horse nothing loth at such unprecedented
-attention dozing cozily by the roadside
-during the process. And so was the traveler brought
-to his destination ten minutes after the last train that
-stopped at Milton that night had passed the station.</p>
-
-<p>The telegraph office was not closed however, and
-without waiting to haggle, the passenger paid his
-thirty dollars for the longest journey he ever took,
-and disappeared into the station, while Joe, whipping
-up his petted animal, and whistling cheerily:</p>
-
-<p class="center">“Where did you get that girl—?”</p>
-
-<p>went rattling down the short cut from Milton
-home at a surprising pace for a lame horse. He
-was eating his supper at home in a little more than
-an hour, and the horse seemed to have miraculously
-recovered from his stone bruise. Joe was wondering
-how his girl would look in a hat with purple
-plumes, and thinking of his thirty dollars with a
-chuckle.</p>
-
-<p>It was surprising how much that thick-set man,
-weary and desperate though he was, could accomplish,
-when once he reached the telegraph station
-and sent his messages flying on their way. In less<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>
-than three minutes after his arrival he had extracted
-from the station agent the fact that two people, man
-and woman, answering the description he gave, had
-bought tickets for Pittsburgh and taken the afternoon
-train for that city. The agent had noticed
-them on account of their looking as if they came
-from the city. He especially noticed the purple
-plumes, the like of which he had never seen before.
-He had taken every minute he could get off from
-selling tickets and sending telegrams to watch the
-lady through his little cobwebby window. They
-didn’t wear hats like that in Milton.</p>
-
-<p>In ten minutes one message was on its way to
-a crony in Pittsburgh with whom the thick-set man
-kept in constant touch for just such occasions as
-the present, stirring him to strenuous action; another
-message had winged its mysterious way to Mr.
-Holman, giving him the main facts in the case; while
-a third message caught another crony thirty miles
-north of Pittsburgh and ordered him to board the
-evening express at his own station, hunt up the
-parties described, and shadow them to their destination,
-if possible getting in touch with the Pittsburgh
-crony when he reached the city.</p>
-
-<p>The pursuer then ate a ham sandwich with
-liberal washings of liquid fire while he awaited replies
-to some of his messages; and as soon as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>
-was satisfied that he had set justice in motion he
-hired an automobile and hied him across country
-to catch a midnight express to Pittsburgh. He had
-given orders that his man and accompanying lady
-should be held in Pittsburgh until his arrival, and
-he had no doubt but that the orders would be carried
-out, so sure was he that he was on the right
-track, and that his cronies would be able and willing
-to follow his orders.</p>
-
-<p>There was some kind of an excursion on at
-Pittsburgh, and the place was crowded. The trainmen
-kept calling off specials, and crowds hurried
-out of the waiting room, only to be replaced by other
-crowds, all eager, pushing, talking, laughing. They
-were mostly men, but a good many women and some
-children seemed to be of the number; and the noise
-and excitement worried her after her own exciting
-afternoon. Celia longed to lay her down and sleep,
-but the seat was narrow, and hard, and people were
-pressing on every side. That disagreeable man in
-the slouch hat would stand too near. He was most
-repulsive looking, though he did not seem to be
-aware of her presence.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had a long wait before he finally secured
-the coveted stateroom and started back to her,
-when suddenly a face that he knew loomed up in
-the crowd and startled him. It was the face of a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>
-private detective who was well known about Washington,
-but whose headquarters were in New York.</p>
-
-<p>Until that instant, it had not occurred to him to
-fear watchers so far south and west as Pittsburgh.
-It was not possible that the other bridegroom would
-think to track him here, and, as for the Holman contingent,
-they would not be likely to make a public
-disturbance about his disappearance, lest they be
-found to have some connection with the first theft
-of government property. They could have watchers
-only through private means, and they must have
-been wily indeed if they had anticipated his move
-through Pittsburgh to Washington. Still, it was the
-natural move for him to make in order to get home
-as quickly as possible and yet escape them. And
-this man in the crowd was the very one whom they
-would have been likely to pick out for their work.
-He was as slippery in his dealings as they must be,
-and no doubt was in league with them. He knew
-the man and his ways thoroughly, and had no mind
-to fall into his hands.</p>
-
-<p>Whether he had been seen by the detective yet
-or not, he could not tell, but he suspected he had, by
-the way the man stood around and avoided recognizing
-him. There was not an instant to be lost.
-The fine stateroom must go untenanted. He must
-make a dash for liberty. Liberty! Ah, East Liberty!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>
-what queer things these brains of ours are! He
-knew Pittsburgh just a little. He remembered
-having caught a train at East Liberty Station once
-when he had not time to come down to the station
-to take it. Perhaps he might get the same train at
-East Liberty. It was nearly two hours before it
-left.</p>
-
-<p>Swooping down upon the baggage, he murmured
-in the girl’s ear:</p>
-
-<p>“Can you hurry a little? We must catch a car
-right away.”</p>
-
-<p>She followed him closely through the crowd, he
-stooping as if to look down at his suit-case, so that
-his height might not attract the attention of the
-man whose recognition he feared, and in a moment
-more they were out in the lighted blackness of the
-streets. One glance backward showed his supposed
-enemy stretching his neck above the crowd, as if
-searching for some one, as he walked hurriedly toward
-the very doorway they had just passed. Behind
-them shadowed the man in the slouch hat, and
-with a curious motion of his hand signalled another
-like himself, the Pittsburgh crony, who skulked in
-the darkness outside. Instantly this man gave another
-signal and out of the gloom of the street a
-carriage drew up at the curb before the door, the
-cabman looking eagerly for patronage.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>Gordon put both suit-cases in one hand and taking
-Celia’s arm as gently as he could in his haste hurried
-her toward the carriage. It was the very refuge
-he sought. He placed her inside and gave the order
-for East Liberty Station, drawing a long breath of
-relief at being safely out of the station. He
-did not see the shabby one who mounted the box
-beside the driver and gave his directions in guttural
-whispers, nor the man with the slouch hat who
-watched from the doorway and followed them
-to a familiar haunt on the nearest car. He only
-felt how good it was to be by themselves once more
-where they could talk together without interruption.</p>
-
-<p>But conversation was not easy under the circumstances.
-The noise of wagons, trains and cars was
-so great at the station that they could think of
-nothing but the din, and when they had threaded
-their way out of the tangle and started rattling over
-the pavement the driver went at such a furious pace
-that they could still only converse by shouting and
-that not at all satisfactorily. It seemed a strange
-thing that any cabman should drive at such a rapid
-rate within the city limits, but as Gordon was anxious
-to get away from the station and the keen-eyed
-detective as fast as possible he thought nothing of
-it at first. After a shouted word or two they ceased
-to try to talk, and Gordon, half shyly, reached out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>
-a reassuring hand and laid it on the girl’s shrinking
-one that lay in her lap. He had not meant to keep
-it there but a second, just to make her understand
-that all was well, and he would soon be able to explain
-things, but as she did not seem to resent it,
-nor draw her own away, he yielded to the temptation
-and kept the small gloved hand in his.</p>
-
-<p>The carriage rattled on, bumpety-bump, over
-rough places, around corners, tilting now and then
-sideways, and Celia, half-frightened, was forced to
-cling to her protector to keep from being thrown on
-the floor of the cab.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, are we running away?” she breathed awesomely
-into his ear.</p>
-
-<p>“I think not,—dear,” he answered back, the
-last word inaudible. “The driver thinks we are in
-a hurry but he has no need to go at this furious
-pace. I will tell him.”</p>
-
-<p>He leaned forward and tapped on the glass, but
-the driver paid no attention whatever save perhaps
-to drive faster. Could it be that he had lost control
-of his horse and could not stop, or hadn’t he
-heard? Gordon tried again, and accompanied the
-knocking this time with a shout, but all to no purpose.
-The cab rattled steadily on. Gordon discovered
-now that there were two men on the box instead
-of one, and a sudden premonition sent a thrill of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>
-alarm through him. What if after all the presence
-of that detective had been a warning, and he unheeding
-had walked into a trap? What a fool he
-had been to get into a carriage where he was at the
-mercy of the driver. He ought to have stayed in
-open places where kidnapping would be impossible.
-Now that he had thought of it he felt convinced that
-this was just what the enemy would try to do,—kidnap
-him. The more fruitless he found his efforts
-to make the driver hear him the more he felt convinced
-that something was wrong. He tried to
-open the door next him and found it stuck. He
-put all his strength forth to turn the catch but it held
-fast. Then a cold sweat stood out upon him and
-horror filled his mind. His commission with its
-large significance to the country was in imminent
-jeopardy. His own life was in all probability hanging
-in the balance, but most of all he felt the awful
-peril of the sweet girl by his side. What terrible experiences
-might be hers within the next hour if his
-brain and right arm could not protect her. Instinctively
-his hand went to the pocket where he had kept
-his revolver ready since ever he had left Washington.
-Danger should not find him utterly unprepared.</p>
-
-<p>He realized, too, that it was entirely possible,
-that his alarms were unfounded; that the driver was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>
-really taking them to the East Liberty station; that
-the door merely stuck, and he was needlessly anxious.
-He must keep a steady head and not let his
-companion see that he was nervous. The first thing
-was to find out if possible where they really were, but
-that was a difficult task. The street over which they
-rattled was utterly dark with the gloom of a smoky
-city added to the night. There were no street lights
-except at wide intervals, and the buildings appeared
-to be blank walls of darkness, probably great warehouses.
-The way was narrow, and entirely unknown.
-Gordon could not tell if he had ever been
-there before. He was sure from his knowledge of
-the stations that they had gone much farther than
-to East Liberty, and the darkness and loneliness of
-the region through which they were passing filled
-him again with a vague alarm. It occurred to him
-that he might be able to get the window sash down
-and speak to the driver, and he struggled with the one
-on his own side for a while, with little result, for it
-seemed to have been plugged up with wads of paper
-all around. This fact renewed his anxiety. It began
-to look as if there was intention in sealing up
-that carriage. He leaned over and felt around the
-sash of the opposite door and found the paper wads
-there also. There certainly was intention. Not to
-alarm Celia he straightened back and went to work<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>
-again at his own window sash cautiously pulling out
-the paper until at last he could let down the glass.</p>
-
-<p>A rush of dank air rewarded his efforts, and the
-girl drew a breath of relief. Gordon never knew
-how near she had been to fainting at that moment.
-She was sitting perfectly quiet in her corner watching
-him, her fears kept to herself, though her heart
-was beating wildly. She was convinced that the
-horse was running away.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon leaned his head out of the window, but
-immediately he caught the gleam of a revolver in
-a hand that hung at the side of the driver’s box,
-pointed downward straight toward his face as if
-with intention to be ready in case of need. The
-owner of the hand was not looking toward him, but
-was talking in muffled tones to the driver. They
-evidently had not heard the window let down, but
-were ready for the first sign of an attempt on the
-part of their victims to escape.</p>
-
-<p>Quietly Gordon drew in his head speculating
-rapidly on the possibility of wrenching that revolver
-out of its owner’s hand. He could do it from where
-he sat, but would it be wise? They were probably
-locked in a trap, and the driver was very likely armed
-also. What chance would he have to save Celia if
-he brought on a desperate fight at this point? If he
-were alone he might knock that revolver out of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>
-man’s hand and spring from the window, taking his
-chance of getting away, but now he had Celia to
-think of and the case was different. Not for a universe
-of governments could he leave a woman in
-such desperate straits. She must be considered first
-even ahead of the message. This was life and death.</p>
-
-<p>He wondered at his own coolness as he sat back
-in the carriage and quietly lifted the glass frame
-back into place. Then he laid a steady hand on
-Celia’s again and stooping close whispered into her
-ear:</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid there’s something wrong with our
-driver. Can you be a little brave,—dear?” He
-did not know he had used the last word this time,
-but it thrilled into the girl’s heart with a sudden
-accession of trust.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes,” she breathed close to his face. “You
-don’t think he has been drinking, do you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, perhaps,” said Gordon relieved at the
-explanation. “But keep calm. I think we can get
-out of this all right. Suppose you change seats with
-me and let me try if that door will open easily. We
-might want to get out in a hurry in case he slows up
-somewhere pretty soon.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia quietly and swiftly slipped into Gordon’s
-seat and he applied himself with all his strength and
-ingenuity gently manipulating the latch and pressing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>
-his shoulder against the door, until at last to his joy
-it gave way reluctantly and he found that it would
-swing open. He had worked carefully, else the
-sudden giving of the latch would have thrown him
-out of the carriage and given instant alarm to his
-driver. He was so thoroughly convinced by this
-time that he was being kidnapped, perhaps to be
-murdered, that every sense was on the alert. It was
-his characteristic to be exceedingly cool during a
-crisis. It was the quality that the keen-eyed chief
-had valued most in him, and the final reason why he
-had been selected for this difficult task in place of
-an older and more experienced man who at times
-lost his head.</p>
-
-<p>The door to the outside world being open Gordon
-cautiously took a survey of the enemy from that
-side. There was no gleaming weapon here. The
-man set grimly enough, laying on the whip and muttering
-curses to his bony horse who galloped recklessly
-on as if partaking of the desperate desires of
-his master. In the distance Gordon could hear the
-rumbling of an oncoming train. The street was
-still dark and scarcely a vehicle or person to be seen.
-There seemed no help at hand, and no opportunity
-to get out, for they were still rushing at a tremendous
-pace. An attempt to jump now would very
-likely result in broken limbs, which would only leave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>
-them in a worse plight than they were. He slipped
-back to his own seat and put Celia next to the free
-door again. She must be where she could get out
-first if the opportunity presented itself. Also, he
-must manage to throw out the suit-cases if possible
-on account of the letters and valuables they contained.</p>
-
-<p>Instinctively his hand sought Celia’s in the darkness
-again, and hers nestled into it in a frightened
-way as if his strength gave her comfort.</p>
-
-<p>Then, before they could speak or realize, there
-came the rushing sound of a train almost upon them
-and the cab came to a halt with a jerk, the driver
-pulling the horse far back on his haunches to stop
-him. The shock almost threw Celia to the floor,
-but Gordon’s arm about her steadied her, and instantly
-he was on the alert.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Glancing</span> through the window he saw that they
-were in front of a railroad track upon which a long
-freight train was rushing madly along at a giddy
-pace for a mere freight. The driver had evidently
-hoped to pass this point before the train got there,
-but had failed. The train had an exultant sound as
-if it knew and had outwitted the driver.</p>
-
-<p>On one side of the street were high buildings and
-on the other a great lumber yard, between which
-and their carriage there stood a team of horses
-hitched to a covered wagon, from the back of which
-some boards protruded, and this was on the side next
-to Celia where the door would open! Gordon’s
-heart leaped up with hope and wonder over the
-miracle of their opportunity. The best thing about
-their situation was that their driver had stopped
-just a little back of the covered wagon, so that their
-door would open to the street directly behind the
-covered wagon. It made it possible for the carriage
-door to swing wide and for them to slip across
-behind the wagon without getting too near to the
-driver. Nothing could have been better arranged
-for their escape and the clatter of the empty freight
-cars drowned all sounds.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>Without delay Gordon softly unlatched the door
-and swung it open whispering to Celia:</p>
-
-<p>“Go! Quick! Over there by the fence in the
-shadow. Don’t look around nor speak! Quick!
-I’ll come!”</p>
-
-<p>Trembling in every limb yet with brave starry
-eyes Celia slipped like a wraith from the carriage,
-stole behind the boards and melted into the shadow
-of the great fence of the lumber yard, her purple
-plumes mere depths of shadow against the smoky
-planks. Gordon, grasping the suit-cases, moved instantly
-after her, deftly and silently closing the carriage
-door and dropping into the shadows behind
-the big wagon, scarcely able to believe as yet that
-they had really escaped.</p>
-
-<p>Ten feet back along the sidewalk was a gateway,
-the posts being tall and thick. The gate itself was
-closed but it hung a few inches inside the line of the
-fence, and into this depression the two stepped softly
-and stood, flattening themselves back against the
-gate as closely as possible, scarcely daring to breathe,
-while the long freight clattered and rambled its way
-by like a lot of jolly washerwomen running and
-laughing in a line and spatting their tired noisy feet
-as they went; then the vehicles impatiently took up
-their onward course. Gordon saw the driver look
-down at the window below him and glance back<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>
-hastily over his shoulder, and the man on the other
-side of the box, looked down on his side. The glitter
-of something in his hand shone for an instant in the
-glare of the signal light over the track. Then the
-horse lurched forward and the cab began its crazy
-gait over the track and up the cobbled street. They
-had started onward without getting down to look
-in the carriage and see if all were safe with their
-prisoners, and they had not even looked back to see
-if they had escaped. They evidently trusted in the
-means they had used to lock the carriage doors, and
-had heard no sounds of their escaping. It was incredible,
-but it was true. Gordon drew a long
-breath of relief and relaxed from his strained position.
-The next thing was to get out of that neighborhood
-as swiftly as possible before those men
-had time to discover that their birds had flown.
-They would of course know at once where their
-departure had taken place and come back swiftly
-to search for them, with perhaps more men to help;
-and a second time escape would be impossible.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon snatched up the suit-cases with one hand,
-and with the other drew Celia’s arm within his.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, we must hurry with all our might,” he
-said softly. “Are you all right?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.” Her breath was coming in a sob, but her
-eyes were shining bravely.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>“Poor child!” his voice was very tender.
-“Were you much frightened?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little,” she answered more bravely now.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall have hard work to forgive myself for
-all this,” he said tenderly. “But we mustn’t talk.
-We have to get out of this quickly or they may come
-back after us. Lean on me and walk as fast as you
-can.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia bent her efforts to take long springing
-strides, and together they fairly skimmed the pavements,
-turning first this corner, then that, in the
-general direction from which Gordon thought they
-had come, until at last, three blocks away they
-caught the welcome whirr of a trolley, and breathless,
-flew onward, just catching a car. They cared
-not where it went so that they were safe in a bright
-light with other people. No diamonds on any gentleman’s
-neckscarf ever shone to Celia’s eyes with
-so friendly a welcome as the dull brass buttons on
-that trolley conductor’s coat as he rang up their
-fares and answered Gordon’s questions about how
-to get to East Liberty station; and their pleasant
-homely gleam almost were her undoing, for now
-that they were safe at last the tears would come to
-her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon watched her lovingly, tenderly, glad
-that she did not know how terrible had been her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>
-danger. His heart was still beating wildly with the
-thought of their marvellous escape, and his own
-present responsibility. He must run no further
-risks. They would keep to crowded trolleys, and
-trust to hiding in the open. The main thing was to
-get out of the city on the first train they could manage
-to board.</p>
-
-<p>When they reached East Liberty station a long
-train was just coming in, all sleepers, and they
-could hear the echo of a stentorian voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Special for Harrisburg, Baltimore and Washington!
-All aboard!” and up at the further end of
-the platform Gordon saw the lank form of the detective
-whom he had tried to avoid an hour before
-at the other station.</p>
-
-<p>Without taking time for thought he hurried
-Celia forward and they sprang breathlessly aboard.
-Not until they were fairly in the cars and the wheels
-moving under them did it occur to him that his companion
-had had nothing to eat since about twelve
-o’clock. She must be famished, and in a fair way to
-be ill again. What a fool he was not to have thought!
-They could have stopped in some obscure restaurant
-along the way as well as not, and taken a later train,
-and yet it was safer to get away at once. Without
-doubt there were watchers at East Liberty, too, and
-he was lucky to have got on the train without a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>
-challenge. He was sure that detective’s face lighted
-strangely as he looked his way. Perhaps there was a
-buffet attached to the train. At least, he would investigate.
-If there wasn’t, they must get off at the
-next stop—there must be another stop surely somewhere
-near the city—he could not remember, but
-there surely must be.</p>
-
-<p>They had to wait some time to get the attention
-of the conductor. He was having much trouble with
-some disgruntled passengers who each claimed to
-have the same berth. Gordon finally got his ear,
-and showing his stateroom tickets inquired if they
-could be used on this train.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” growled the worried conductor.
-“You’re on the wrong train. This is a special, and
-every berth in the train is taken now but one upper.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then, we’ll have to get off at the next stop, I
-suppose, and take the other train,” said Gordon dismally.</p>
-
-<p>“There isn’t any other stop till somewhere in
-the middle of the night. I tell you this is a special,
-and we’re scheduled to go straight through. East
-Liberty’s the last stop.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then what shall we do?” asked Gordon inanely.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m sure I don’t know,” snapped the conductor.
-“I’ve enough to do without mending other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>
-people’s mistakes. Stay aboard, I suppose, unless
-you want to jump off and commit suicide.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I have a lady with me who isn’t at all
-well,” said Gordon, with dignity.</p>
-
-<p>“So much the worse for the lady,” replied the
-conductor inhumanly. “There’s one upper berth,
-I told you.”</p>
-
-<p>“An upper berth wouldn’t do for her,” said
-Gordon decidedly. “She isn’t well, I tell you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Suit yourself!” snapped the harassed official.
-“I reckon it’s better than nothing. You may not
-have it long. I’m likely to be asked for it the next
-half minute.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is that so? And is there absolutely nothing
-else?”</p>
-
-<p>“Young man, I can’t waste words on you. I
-haven’t time. Take it or let it alone. It’s all one to
-me. There’s some standing room left in the day-coach,
-perhaps.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll take it,” said Gordon meekly, wishing he
-could go back and undo the last half-hour. How in
-the world was he to go and tell Celia that he could
-provide her nothing better than an upper berth?</p>
-
-<p>She was sitting with her back to him, her face
-resting wearily on her hand against the window.
-Two men with largely checked suits, big seal rings,
-and diamond scarf-pins sat in the opposite seat. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>
-knew it was most unpleasant for her. A nondescript
-woman with a very large hat and thick powder on
-her face shared Celia’s seat. He reflected that
-“specials” did not always bear a select company.</p>
-
-<p>“Is there nothing you can do?” he pleaded with
-the conductor, as he took the bit of pasteboard entitling
-him to the last vacant berth. “Don’t you
-suppose you could get some man to change and give
-her a lower berth? It’ll be very hard for her. She
-isn’t used to upper berths.”</p>
-
-<p>His eyes rested wistfully on the bowed head.
-Celia had taken off her plumed hat, and the fitful
-light of the car played with the gold of her hair.
-The conductor’s grim eye softened as he looked.</p>
-
-<p>“That the lady? I’ll see what I can do,” he said
-briefly, and stumped off to the next car. The miracle
-of her presence had worked its change upon him.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon went over to Celia and told her in a low
-tone that he hoped to have arrangements made for
-her soon, so that she could be comfortable. She
-must be fearfully tired with the excitement and
-fright and hurry. He added that he had made a
-great blunder in getting on this train, and now there
-was no chance to get off for several hours, perhaps,
-and probably no supper to be had.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, it doesn’t matter in the least,” said Celia
-wearily. “I’m not at all hungry.” She almost<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>
-smiled when she said it. He knew that what she
-wanted was to have her mind relieved about the
-letters. But she readily saw that there was no opportunity
-now.</p>
-
-<p>She even seemed sorry at his troubled look, and
-tried to smile again through the settled sadness in
-her eyes. He could see she was very weary, and he
-felt like a great brute in care of a child, and mentally
-berated himself for his own thoughtlessness.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon started off to search for something to
-eat for her, and was more successful than he had
-dared hope. The newsboy had two chicken sandwiches
-left, and these, with the addition of a fine
-orange, a box of chocolates, and a glass of ice-water,
-he presently brought to her, and was rewarded by a
-smile this time, almost as warm and intimate as those
-she had given him during their beautiful day.</p>
-
-<p>But he could not sit beside her, for the places
-were all taken, and he could not stand in the aisle
-and talk, for the porter was constantly running back
-and forth making up the berths. There seemed to
-be a congested state of things in the whole train,
-every seat being full and men standing in the aisles.
-He noticed now that they all wore badges of some
-fraternal order. It was doubtless a delegation to
-some great convention, upon which they had intruded.
-They were a good-natured, noisy, happy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>
-crowd, but not anywhere among them was to be
-found a quiet spot where he and Celia could go on
-with their suddenly interrupted conversation. Presently
-the conductor came to him and said he had
-found a gentleman who would give the lady his
-lower berth and take her upper one. It was already
-made up, and the lady might take possession at once.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon made the exchange of tickets, and immediately
-escorted Celia to it. He found her most glad
-to go for she was now unutterably weary, and was
-longing to get away from the light and noise about
-her.</p>
-
-<p>He led the way with the suit-cases, hoping that
-in the other car there would be some spot where
-they could talk for a few minutes. But he was disappointed.
-It was even fuller than in the first car.
-He arranged everything for her comfort as far as
-possible, disposed of her hat and fixed her suit-case
-so that she could open it, but even while he was doing
-it there were people crowding by, and no private
-conversation could be had. He stepped back when
-all was arranged and held the curtain aside that she
-might sit on the edge of her berth. Then stooping
-over he whispered:</p>
-
-<p>“Try to trust me until morning. I’ll explain it
-all to you then, so that you will understand how I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>
-have had nothing to do with those letters. Forget
-it, and try to rest. Will you?”</p>
-
-<p>His tone was wistful. He had never wanted to
-do anything so much in all his life as to stoop and
-kiss those sweet lips, and the lovely eyes that looked
-up at him out of the dusky shadows of the berth,
-filled with fear and longing. They looked more
-than ever like the blue tired flowers that drooped
-from her gown wearily. But he held himself with
-a firm hand. She was not his to kiss. When she
-knew how he had deceived her, she would probably
-never give him the right to kiss her.</p>
-
-<p>“I will try,” she murmured in answer to his
-question, and then added: “But where will you
-be? Is your berth nearby?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not far away—that is, I had to take a place in
-another car, they are so crowded.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she said a little anxiously. “Are you
-sure you have a good comfortable place?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, I shall be all right,” he answered joyously.
-It was so wonderful to have her care whether
-he was comfortable or not.</p>
-
-<p>The porter was making up the opposite berth,
-and there was no room to stand longer, so he bade
-her good night, she putting out her hand for a farewell.
-For an instant he held it close, with gentle
-pressure, as if to reassure her, then he went away<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>
-to the day-coach, and settled down into a hard
-corner at the very back of the car, drawing his travelling
-cap over his eyes, and letting his heart beat
-out wild joy over that little touch of her dear hand.
-Wave after wave of sweetness went over him, thrilling
-his very soul with a joy he had never known
-before.</p>
-
-<p>And this was love! And what kind of a wretch
-was he, presuming to love like this a woman who
-was the promised bride of another man! Ah, but
-such a man! A villain! A brute, who had used his
-power over her to make her suffer tortures! Had
-a man like that a right to claim her? His whole
-being answered “no.”</p>
-
-<p>Then the memory of the look in her eyes, the
-turn of her head, the soft touch of her fingers as
-they lay for that instant in his, the inflection of
-her voice, would send that wave of sweetness over
-his senses, his heart would thrill anew, and he would
-forget the wretch who stood between him and this
-lovely girl whom he knew now he loved as he had
-never dreamed a man could love.</p>
-
-<p>Gradually his mind steadied itself under the
-sweet intoxication, and he began to wonder just
-what he should say to her in the morning. It was
-a good thing he had not had further opportunity to
-talk with her that night, for he could not have told<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>
-her everything; and now if all went well they would
-be in Washington in the morning, and he might
-make some excuse till after he had delivered his
-message. Then he would be free to tell the whole
-story, and lay his case before her for decision. His
-heart throbbed with ecstasy as he thought of the
-possibility of her forgiving him, and yet it seemed
-most unlikely. Sometimes he would let his wild
-longings fancy for just an instant what joy it would
-be if she could be induced to let the marriage stand.
-But he told himself at the same time that that could
-never be. It was very likely that there was some one
-else in New York to whom her heart would
-turn if she were free from the scoundrel who had
-threatened her into a compulsory marriage. He
-would promise to help her, protect her, defend her
-from the man who was evidently using blackmail
-to get her into his power for some purpose; most
-likely for the sake of having control of her property.
-At least it would be some comfort to be able to help
-her out of her trouble. And yet, would she ever trust
-a man who had even unwittingly allowed her to be
-bound by the sacred tie of marriage to an utter
-stranger?</p>
-
-<p>And thus, amid hope and fear, the night whirled
-itself away. Forward in the sleeper the girl lay wide
-awake for a long time. In the middle of the night<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>
-a thought suddenly evolved itself out of the blackness
-of her curtained couch. She sat upright alertly
-and stared into the darkness, as if it were a thing
-that she could catch and handle and examine. The
-thought was born out of a dreamy vision of the crisp
-brown waves, almost curls if they had not been so
-short and thick, that covered the head of the man
-who had lain sleeping outside her curtains in the
-early morning. It came to her with sudden force
-that not so had been the hair of the boy George
-Hayne, who used to trouble her girlish days. His
-was thin and black and oily, collecting naturally into
-little isolated strings with the least warmth, and
-giving him the appearance of a kitten who had been
-out in the rain. One lock, how well she remembered
-that lock!—one lock on the very crown of his head
-had always refused to lie down, no matter how
-much persuasion was brought to bear upon it. It
-had been the one point on which the self-satisfied
-George had been pregnable, his hair, that scalp lock
-that would always arise stiffly, oilily, from the top
-of his head. The hair she had looked at admiringly
-that morning in the dawning crimson of the rising
-sun had not been that way. It had curved clingingly
-to the shape of the fine head as if it loved to
-go that way. It was beautiful and fine and burnished
-with a sense of life and vigor in its every wave.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>
-Could hair change in ten years? Could it grow
-brown where it had been black? Could it become
-glossy instead of dull and oily? Could it take on the
-signs of natural wave where it had been as straight
-as a die? Could it grow like fur where it had been
-so thin?</p>
-
-<p>The girl could not solve the problem, but the
-thought was most startling and brought with it many
-suggestive possibilities that were most disturbing.
-Yet gradually out of the darkness she drew a sort
-of comfort in her dawning enlightenment. Two
-things she had to go on in her strange premises, he
-had said he did not write the letters, and his hair
-was not the same. Who then was he? Her husband
-now undoubtedly, but who? And if deeds and
-hair could change so materially, why not spirits? At
-least he was not the same as she had feared and
-dreaded. There was so much comfort.</p>
-
-<p>And at last she lay down and slept.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">They</span> were late coming into Washington, for the
-Special had been sidetracked in the night for several
-express trains, and the noisy crowd who had kept
-one another awake till after midnight made up by
-sleeping far into the morning.</p>
-
-<p>Three times did Gordon make the journey three
-cars front to see if his companion of yesterday were
-awake and needed anything, but each time found
-the curtains drawn and still, and each time he went
-slowly back again to his seat in the crowded day-coach.</p>
-
-<p>It was not until the white dome of the capitol,
-and the tall needle of the monument, were painted
-soft and vision-like against the sky, reminding one
-of the pictures of the heavenly city in the story of
-Pilgrim’s Progress, and faintly suggesting a new
-and visionary world, that he sought her again, and
-found her fully ready, standing in the aisle while
-the porter put up the berth out of the way. Beneath
-the great brim of her purple hat, where the soft
-fronds of her plumes trembled with the motion of
-the train, she lifted sweet eyes to him, as if she were
-both glad and frightened to see him. And then that
-ecstasy shot through him again, as he realized suddenly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>
-what it would be to have her for his life-companion,
-to feel her looks of gladness were all for
-him, and have the right to take all fright away from
-her.</p>
-
-<p>They could only smile at each other for good-morning,
-for everybody was standing up and being
-brushed, and pushing here and there for suit-cases
-and lost umbrellas; and everybody talked loudly,
-and laughed a great deal, and told how late the train
-was. Then at last they were there, and could get
-out and walk silently side by side in the noisy procession
-through the station to the sidewalk.</p>
-
-<p>What little things sometimes change a lifetime,
-and make for our safety or our destruction! That
-very morning three keen watchers were set to guard
-that station at Washington to hunt out the government
-spy who had stolen back the stolen message,
-and take him, message and all, dead or alive, back
-to New York; for the man who could testify against
-the Holman Combination was not to be let live if
-there was such a thing as getting him out of the
-way. But they never thought to watch the Special
-which was supposed to carry only delegates to the
-great convention. He could not possibly be on that!
-They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh, for
-they had been so advised by telegram the evening
-before by one of their company who had seen him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>
-buying a sleeper ticket for Washington, but they felt
-safe about that Special, for they had made inquiries
-and been told no one but delegates could possibly
-come on it. They had done their work thoroughly,
-and were on hand with every possible plan perfected
-for bagging their game, but they took the time
-when the Pittsburgh Special was expected to arrive
-for eating a hearty breakfast in the restaurant across
-the street from the station. Two of them emerged
-from the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to
-meet the next Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, having
-placed the lady in a closed carriage, was getting
-in himself.</p>
-
-<p>If the carriage had stood in any other spot along
-the pavement in front of the station, they never
-would have seen him, but, as it was, they had a full
-view of him; and because they were Washington
-men, and experts in their line, they recognized him
-at once, and knew their plans had failed, and that
-only by extreme measures could they hope to prevent
-the delivery of the message which would mean
-downfall and disaster to them and their schemes.</p>
-
-<p>As Gordon slammed shut the door of the carriage,
-he caught a vision of his two enemies pointing
-excitedly toward him, and he knew that the
-bloodhounds were on the scent.</p>
-
-<p>His heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>
-between the message and the lady. What should he
-do? Drive at once to the home of his chief and deliver
-the message, or leave the girl at his rooms,
-’phone for a faster conveyance and trust to getting
-to his chief ahead of his pursuers?</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything
-hinder you! Make it a matter of life and
-death!” rang the little ditty in his ears, and now it
-seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the
-message. And yet—“a matter of life and death!”
-He could not, must not, might not, take the lady
-with him into danger. If he must be in danger of
-death he did not want to die having exposed an innocent
-stranger to the same.</p>
-
-<p>Then there was another point to be thought of.</p>
-
-<p>He had already told the driver to take him to his
-apartments, and to drive as rapidly as possible. It
-would not do to stop him now and change the directions,
-for a pistol-shot could easily reach him yet;
-and, coming from a crowd, who would be suspected?
-His enemies were standing on the threshold of a
-place where there were many of their kind to protect
-them, and none of his friends knew of his coming.
-It would be a race for life from now on to
-the finish.</p>
-
-<p>Celia was looking out with interest at the streets,
-recognizing landmarks with wonder, and did not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>
-notice Gordon’s white, set face and burning eyes as
-he strained his vision to note how fast the horse
-was going. Oh, if the driver would only turn off
-at the next corner into the side street they could
-not watch the carriage so far, but it was not likely,
-for this was the most direct road, and yet—yes, he
-had turned! Joy! The street here was so crowded
-that he had sought the narrower, less crowded way
-that he might go the faster.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed an age to him before they stopped at
-his apartments. To Celia, it had been but a short
-ride, in which familiar scenes had brought her
-pleasure, for she recognized that she was not in
-strange Chicago, but in Washington, a city often
-visited. Somehow she felt it was an omen of a
-better future than she had feared.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, why didn’t you tell me?” she smiled to
-Gordon. “It is Washington, dear old Washington.”</p>
-
-<p>Somehow he controlled the tumult in his heart
-and smiled back, saying in a voice quite natural:</p>
-
-<p>“I am so glad you like it.”</p>
-
-<p>She seemed to understand that they could not
-talk until they reached a quiet place somewhere, and
-she did not trouble him with questions. Instead—she
-looked from the window, or watched him furtively,
-comparing him with her memory of George
-Hayne, and wondering in her own thoughts. She was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>
-glad to have them to herself for just this little bit,
-for now that the morning had come she was almost
-afraid of revelation, what it might bring forth.
-And so it came about that they took the swift ride in
-more or less silence, and neither thought it strange.</p>
-
-<p>As the carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hurried
-voice, tense with excitement, but her own nerves
-were on a strain also, and she did not notice.</p>
-
-<p>“We get out here.”</p>
-
-<p>He had the fare ready for the driver, and, stepping
-out, hurried Celia into the shelter of the hallway.
-It happened that an elevator had just come
-down, so it was but a second more before they were
-up safe in the hall before his own apartment.</p>
-
-<p>Taking a latch-key from his pocket, he applied
-it to the door, flung it open, and ushered Celia to a
-large leather chair in the middle of the room. Then,
-stepping quickly to the side of the room, he touched
-a bell, and from it went to the telephone, with an
-“Excuse me, please, this is necessary,” to the girl,
-who sat astonished, wondering at the homelikeness
-of the room and at the “at-homeness” of the man.
-She had expected to be taken to a hotel. This
-seemed to be a private apartment with which he was
-perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some
-friend. But how, after an absence of years, could
-he remember just where to go, which door and which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>
-elevator to take, and how to fit the key with so accustomed
-a hand? Then her attention was arrested by
-his voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Give me 254 L please,” he said.... “Is
-this 254 L?... Is Mr. Osborne in?... You
-say he has <i>not</i> gone to the office yet?...
-May I speak with him?... Is this Mr. Osborne?...
-I did not expect you to know my
-voice.... Yes, sir; just arrived, and all safe
-so far. Shall I bring it to the house or the office?...
-The house?... All right, sir. Immediately....
-By the way, I am sure Hale
-and Burke are on my track. They saw me at the
-station.... To your house?... You
-will wait until I come?... All right, sir.
-Yes, immediately.... Sure, I’ll take precaution....
-Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>With the closing words came a tap at the door.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, Henry,” he answered, as the astonished
-girl turned toward the door. “Henry, you will go
-down, please, to the restaurant, and bring up a menu
-card. This lady will select what she would like to
-have, and you will serve breakfast for her in this
-room as soon as possible. I shall be out for perhaps
-an hour, and, meantime, you will obey any orders
-she may give you.”</p>
-
-<p>He did not introduce her as his wife, but she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>
-did not notice the omission. She had suddenly become
-aware of a strange, distraught haste in his
-manner, and when he said he was going out alarm
-seized her, she could not tell why.</p>
-
-<p>The man bowed deferentially to his master,
-looked his admiration and devotion to the lady,
-waited long enough to say:</p>
-
-<p>“I’se mighty glad to see you safe back, sah—”
-and disappeared to obey orders.</p>
-
-<p>Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation,
-but he was already at the telephone again:</p>
-
-<p>“46!... Is this the Garage?...
-This is The Harris Apartments.... Can you
-send Thomas with a closed car to the rear door immediately?...
-Yes.... No, I want
-Thomas, and a car that can speed.... Yes,
-the rear door, <i>rear</i>, and at once.... What?...
-What’s that?... But I <i>must</i>....
-It’s <i>official</i> business.... Well, I thought so.
-Hurry them up. Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>He turned and saw her troubled gaze following
-him with growing fear in her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“What is the matter?” she asked anxiously.
-“Has something happened?”</p>
-
-<p>Just one moment he paused, and, coming toward
-her, laid his hands on hers tenderly.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing the matter at all,” he said soothingly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>
-“At least nothing that need worry you. It is just
-a matter of pressing business. I’m sorry to have
-to go from you for a little while, but it is necessary.
-I cannot explain to you until I return. You will
-trust me? You will not worry?”</p>
-
-<p>“I will try!”</p>
-
-<p>Her lips were quivering, and her eyes were filled
-with tears. Again he felt that intense longing to
-lay his lips upon hers and comfort her, but he put it
-from him.</p>
-
-<p>“There is nothing to feel sad about,” he said,
-smiling gently. “It is nothing tragic only there is
-need for haste, for if I wait, I may fail yet—— It
-is something that means a great deal to me. When
-I come back I will explain all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Go!” she said, putting out her hands in a
-gesture of resignation, as if she would hurry him
-from her. And though she was burning to know
-what it all meant there was that about him that compelled
-her to trust him and to wait.</p>
-
-<p>Then his control almost went from him. He
-nearly took those hands in his and kissed them, but
-he did not. Instead, he went with swift steps to
-his bedroom door, threw open a chiffonier drawer,
-and took therefrom something small and sinister.
-She could see the gleam of its polished metal, and
-she sensed a strange little menace in the click as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>
-did something to it, she could not see what, because
-his back was to her. He came out with his hand in
-his pocket, as if he had just hidden something there.</p>
-
-<p>She was not familiar with firearms. Her mother
-had been afraid of them and her brother had never
-flourished any around the house, yet she knew by
-instinct that some weapon of defence was in Gordon’s
-possession; and a nameless horror rose in her heart
-and shone from her blue eyes, but she would not
-speak a word to let him know it. If he had not been
-in such haste, he would have seen. Her horror
-would have been still greater if she had known that
-he already carried one loaded revolver and was
-taking a second in case of an emergency.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t worry,” he called as he hurried out the
-door. “Henry will get anything you need, and I
-shall soon be back.”</p>
-
-<p>The door closed and he was gone. She heard
-his quick step down the hall, heard the elevator door
-slide and slam again, and then she knew he was gone
-down. Outside an automobile sounded and she
-seemed to hear again his words at the phone, “The
-rear door.” Why had he gone to the rear door?
-Was he in hiding? Was he flying from some one?
-What, oh what, did it mean?</p>
-
-<p>Without stopping to reason it out, she flew
-across the room and opened the door of the bedroom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>
-he had just left, then through it passed swiftly to a
-bath-room beyond. Yes, there was a window.
-Would it be the one? Could she see him? And
-what good would it do her if she could?</p>
-
-<p>She crowded close to the window. There was a
-heavy sash with stained glass, but she selected a
-clear bit of yellow and put her eye close. Yes, there
-was a closed automobile just below her, and it had
-started away from the building. He had gone, then.
-Where?</p>
-
-<p>Her mind was a blank for a few minutes. She
-went slowly, mechanically back to the other room
-without noticing anything about her, sat down in
-the chair, putting her hands to her temples, and
-tried to think. Back to the moment in the church
-where he had appeared at her side and the service
-had begun. Something had told her then that he
-was different, and yet there had been those letters,
-and how could it possibly be that he had not written
-them? He was gone on some dangerous business.
-Of that she felt sure. There had been some caution
-given him by the man to whom he first ’phoned. He
-had promised to take precaution—that meant the
-little, wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket. Perhaps
-some harm would come to him, and she would
-never know. And then she stared at the opposite
-wall with wonder-filled eyes. Well, and suppose it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>
-did? Why did she care? Was he not the man
-whose power over her but two short days ago would
-have made her welcome death as her deliverer?
-Why was all changed now? Just because he had
-smiled upon her and been kind? Had given her a
-few wild flowers and said her eyes were like them?
-Had hair that waved instead of being straight and
-thin? And where was all her loyalty to her dear
-dead father’s memory? How could she mind that
-danger should come to one who had threatened to
-tell terrible lies that should blacken him in the
-thoughts of people who had loved him? Had she
-forgotten the letters? Was she willing to forgive
-all just because he had declared that he did not write
-them? How foolish! He said he could prove that
-he did not, but of course that was all nonsense. He
-must have written them. And yet there was the
-wave in his hair, and the kindness in his eyes. And
-he had looked—oh, he had looked terrible things
-when he had read that letter; as if he would like to
-wreak vengeance on the man who had written it.
-Could a man masquerade that way?</p>
-
-<p>And then a new solution to the problem came to
-her. Suppose this—whoever he was—this man who
-had married her, had gone out to find and punish
-George Hayne? Suppose—— But then she covered
-her eyes with her hands and shuddered. Yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>
-why should she care? But she did. Suppose he
-should be killed, himself! Who was he if not George
-Hayne and how did he come to take his place? Was
-it just another of George’s terrible tricks upon her?</p>
-
-<p>A quick vision came of their bringing him back
-to her. He would lie, perhaps, on that great crimson
-leather couch over there, just as he had lain in
-the dawning of the morning in the stateroom of the
-train, with his hands hanging limp, and one perhaps
-across his breast, as if he were guarding something,
-and his bright waves of brown hair lying heavy
-about his forehead—only, his forehead would be
-white, so white and cold, with a little blue mark in
-his temple perhaps.</p>
-
-<p>The footsteps of the man Henry brought her
-back to the present again. She smiled at him pleasantly
-as he entered, and answered his questions
-about what she would have for breakfast; but it was
-he who selected the menu, not she, and after he had
-gone she could not have told what she had ordered.
-She could not get away from the vision on the
-couch. She closed her eyes and pressed her cold
-fingers against her eyeballs to drive it away, but still
-her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her.</p>
-
-<p>The colored man came back presently with a
-loaded tray, and set it down on a little table which
-he wheeled before her, as though he had done it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>
-many times before. She thanked him, and said there
-was nothing else she needed, so he went away.</p>
-
-<p>She toyed with the cup of delicious coffee which
-he had poured for her, and the few swallows she
-took gave her new heart. She broke a bit from a
-hot roll, and ate a little of the delicious steak, but
-still her mind was at work at the problem, and her
-heart was full of nameless anxiety.</p>
-
-<p>He had gone away without any breakfast himself,
-and he had had no supper the night before, she
-was sure. He probably had given to her everything
-he could get on the train. She was haunted with
-regret because she had not shared with him. She
-got up and walked about the room, trying to shake
-off the horror that was upon her, and the dread of
-what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily
-she would have thought of sending a message to
-her mother and brother, but her mind was so
-troubled now that it never occurred to her.</p>
-
-<p>The walls of the room were tinted a soft greenish
-gray, and above the picture moulding they blended
-into a woodsy landscape with a hint of water, greensward,
-and blue sky through interlacing branches.
-It reminded her of the little village they had seen as
-they started from the train in the early morning
-light. What a beautiful day they had spent together<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>
-and how it had changed her whole attitude of heart
-toward the man she had married!</p>
-
-<p>Two or three fine pictures were hung in good
-lights. She studied them, and knew that the one
-who had selected and hung them was a judge of true
-art; but they did not hold her attention long, for as
-yet, she had not connected the room with the man
-for whom she waited.</p>
-
-<p>A handsome mahogany desk stood open in a
-broad space by the window. She was attracted by
-a little painted miniature of a woman. She took it
-up and studied the face. It was fine and sweet, with
-brown hair dressed low, and eyes that reminded her
-of the man who had just gone from her. Was this,
-then, the home of some relative with whom he had
-come to stop for a day or two, and, if so, where was
-the relative? The dress in the miniature was of a
-quarter of a century past, yet the face was young and
-sweet, as young, perhaps, as herself. She wondered
-who it was. She put the miniature back in place
-with caressing hand. She felt that she would like to
-know this woman with the tender eyes. She wished
-her here now, that she might tell her all her anxiety.</p>
-
-<p>Her eye wandered to the pile of letters, some of
-them official-looking ones, one or two in square, perfumed
-envelopes, with high, angular writing. They
-were all addressed to Mr. Cyril Gordon. That was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>
-strange! Who was Mr. Cyril Gordon? What had
-they—what had she—to do with him? Was he a
-friend whom George—whom they—were visiting
-for a few days? It was all bewildering.</p>
-
-<p>Then the telephone rang.</p>
-
-<p>Her heart beat wildly and she looked toward it
-as if it had been a human voice speaking and she
-had no power to answer. What should she do now?
-Should she answer? Or should she wait for the
-man to come? Could the man hear the telephone
-bell or was she perhaps expected to answer? And
-yet if Mr. Cyril Gordon—well, somebody ought to
-answer. The ’phone rang insistently once more,
-and still a third time. What if <i>he</i> should be calling
-her! Perhaps he was in distress. This thought sent
-her flying to the ’phone. She took down the receiver
-and called:</p>
-
-<p>“Hello!” and her voice sounded far away to
-herself.</p>
-
-<p>“Is this Mr. Gordon’s apartment?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” she answered, for her eyes were resting
-on the pile of letters close at hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Is Mr. Gordon there?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, he is not,” she answered, growing more
-confident now and almost wishing she had not presumed
-to answer a stranger’s ’phone.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I just ’phoned to the office and they told<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>
-me he had returned,” said a voice that had an imperious
-note in it. “Are you sure he isn’t there?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quite sure,” she replied.</p>
-
-<p>“Who is this, please?”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon,” said Celia trying to make
-time and knowing not how to reply. She was not
-any longer Miss Hathaway. Who was she? Mrs.
-Hayne? She shrank from the name. It was filled
-with horror for her. “Who is this, I said,” snapped
-the other voice now. “Is this the chambermaid?
-Because if it is I’d like you to look around and
-inquire and be quite sure that Mr. Gordon isn’t
-there. I wish to speak with him about something
-very important.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia smiled.</p>
-
-<p>“No, this is not the chambermaid,” she said
-sweetly, “and I am quite sure Mr. Gordon is not
-here.”</p>
-
-<p>“How long before he will be there?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know really, for I have but just come
-myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who is this to whom I am talking?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why—just a friend,” she answered, wondering
-if that were the best thing to say.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” there was a long and contemplative pause
-at the other end.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>“Well, could you give Mr. Gordon a message
-when he comes in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why certainly, I think so. Who is this?”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bentley. Julia Bentley. He’ll know,”
-replied the imperious one eagerly now. “And tell
-him please that he is expected here to dinner to-night.
-We need him to complete the number, and
-he simply mustn’t fail me. I’ll excuse him for going
-off in such a rush if he comes early and tells me all
-about it. Now you won’t forget, will you? You
-got the name, Bentley, did you? B, E, N, T, L, E, Y,
-you know. And you’ll tell him the minute he comes
-in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you! What did you say your name
-was?”</p>
-
-<p>But Celia had hung up. Somehow the message
-annoyed her, she could not tell why. She wished
-she had not answered the ’phone. Whoever Mr.
-Cyril Gordon was what should she do if he should
-suddenly appear? And as for this imperious lady
-and her message she hoped she would never have to
-deliver it. On second thought why not write it and
-leave it on his desk with the pile of letters? She
-would do it. It would serve to pass away a few of
-these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully.</p>
-
-<p>She sat down and wrote: “Miss Bentley wishes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>
-Mr. Gordon to dine with her this evening. She
-will pardon his running away the other day if he
-will come early.” She laid it beside the high angular
-writing on the square perfumed letters and went
-back to the leather chair too restless to rest yet too
-weary to stand up.</p>
-
-<p>She went presently to the back windows to look
-out, and then to the side ones. Across the housetops
-she could catch a glimpse of domes and buildings.
-There was the Congressional Library, which
-usually delighted her with its exquisite tones of gold
-and brown and white. But she had no eyes for it
-now. Beyond were more buildings, all set in the
-lovely foliage which was much farther developed
-than it had been in New York State. From another
-window she could get a glimpse of the Potomac
-shining in the morning sun.</p>
-
-<p>She wandered to the front windows and looked
-out. There were people passing and repassing. It
-was a busy street, but she could not make out
-whether it was one she knew or not. There were
-two men walking back and forth on the opposite
-side. They did not go further than the corner of the
-street either way. They looked across at the windows
-sometimes and pointed up, when they met,
-and once one of them took something out of his
-pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side, as if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>
-to have it ready for use. It reminded her of the
-thing her husband had held in his hand in the bedroom
-and she shuddered. She watched them, fascinated,
-not able to draw herself away from the
-window.</p>
-
-<p>Now and then she would go to the rear window,
-to see if there was any sign of the automobile returning,
-and then hurry back to the front, to see if
-the men were still there. Once she returned to the
-chair, and, lying back, shut her eyes, and let the
-memory of yesterday sweep over her in all its sweet
-details, up to the time when they had got into the
-way train and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty
-to her father. But now her heart was all on the
-other side, and she began to feel that there had been
-some dreadful mistake, somewhere, and he was
-surely all right. He could not, could not have written
-those terrible letters. Then again the details of
-their wild carriage ride in Pittsburgh and miraculous
-escape haunted her. There was something
-strange and unexplained about that which she must
-understand.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Meantime</span>, Gordon was speeding away to another
-part of the city by the fastest time an experienced
-chauffeur dared to make. About the time they
-turned the first corner into the avenue, two burly
-policemen sauntered casually into the pretty square
-in front of the house where lived the chief of the
-Secret Service. There was nothing about their demeanor
-to show that they had been detailed there by
-special urgency, and three men who hurried to the
-little park just across the street from the house
-could not possibly know that their leisurely and
-careless stroll was the result of a hurried telephone
-message from the chief to police headquarters immediately
-after his message from Gordon.</p>
-
-<p>The policemen strolled by the house, greeted each
-other, and walked on around the square across the
-little park. They eyed the three men sitting idly on a
-bench, and passed leisurely on. They disappeared
-around a corner, and to the three men were out of
-the way. The latter did not know the hidden places
-where the officers took up their watch, and when an
-automobile appeared, and the three stealthily got up
-from their park bench and distributed themselves
-among the shrubbery near the walk, they knew not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>
-that their every movement was observed with keen
-attention. But they did wonder how it happened
-that those two policemen seemed to spring out of the
-ground suddenly, just as the auto came to a halt in
-front of the chief’s house.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon sprang out and up the steps with a
-bound, the door opening before him as if he were
-expected. The two grim and apparently indifferent
-policemen stood outside like two stone images on
-guard, while up the street with rhythmic sound rode
-two mounted police, also coming to a halt before the
-house as if for a purpose. The three men in the
-bushes hid their instruments of death, and would
-have slunk away had there been a chance; but, turning
-to make a hasty flight, they were met by three
-more policemen. There was the crack of a revolver
-as one of the three desperadoes tried a last reckless
-dash for freedom—and failed. The wretch went to
-justice with his right arm hanging limp by his side.</p>
-
-<p>Inside the house Gordon was delivering up his
-message, and as he laid it before his chief, and stood
-silent while the elder man read and pondered its
-tremendous import, it occurred to him for the first
-time that his chief would require some report of his
-journey, and the hindrances that had made him a
-whole day late in getting back to Washington. His
-heart stood still with sudden panic. What was he to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>
-do? How could he tell it all? What right had he to
-tell of his marriage to an unknown woman? A
-marriage that perhaps was not a marriage. He
-could not know what the outcome would be until he
-had told the girl everything. As far as he himself
-was concerned he knew that the great joy of his life
-had come to him in her. Yet he could not hope that
-it would be so with her. And he must think of her
-and protect her good name in every way. If there
-should be such a thing ever as that she should consent
-to remain with him and be his wife he must
-never let a soul know but what the marriage had been
-planned long ago. It would not be fair to her. It
-would make life intolerable for them both either
-together or apart. And while he might be and doubtless
-was perfectly safe in confiding in his chief, and
-asking him to keep silence about the matter, still he
-felt that even that would be a breach of faith with
-Celia. He must close his lips upon the story until
-he could talk with her and know her wishes. He
-drew a sigh of weariness. It was a long, hard way
-he had come, and it was not over. The worst ordeal
-would be his confession to the bride who was not his
-wife.</p>
-
-<p>The chief looked up.</p>
-
-<p>“Could you make this out, Gordon?” he asked,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>
-noting keenly the young man’s weary eyes, the
-strained, tense look about his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes sir; I saw it at once. I was almost
-afraid my eyes might betray the secret before I got
-away with it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you know what you have saved the country,
-and what you have been worth to the Service.”</p>
-
-<p>The young man flushed with pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you, sir,” he said, looking down. “I
-understood it was important, and I am glad I was
-able to accomplish the errand without failing.”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you reason to suppose you were followed,
-except for what you saw at the station in this city?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; I am sure there were detectives after
-me as I was leaving New York. They were suspicious
-of me. I saw one of the men who had been
-at the dinner with me watching me. The disguise—and—some
-circumstances—threw him off. He
-wasn’t sure. Then, there was a man—you know
-him, Balder—at Pittsburgh?——”</p>
-
-<p>“Pittsburgh!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, you wonder how I got to Pittsburgh.
-You see, I was shadowed almost from the first I
-suspect, for when I reached the station in New York
-I was sure I recognized this man who had sat opposite
-me a few minutes before. I suppose my disguise,
-which you so thoughtfully provided, bothered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>
-him, for though he followed me about at a little distance
-he didn’t speak to me. I had to get on the
-first train that circumstances permitted, and perhaps
-the fact that it was a Chicago train made him think
-he was mistaken in me. Anyhow I saw no more of
-him after the train left the station. Rather unexpectedly
-I found I could get the drawing-room compartment,
-and went into immediate retirement, leaving
-the train at daylight where it was delayed on a
-side track, and walked across country till I found a
-conveyance that took me to a Pittsburgh train. It
-didn’t seem feasible to get away from the Chicago
-train any sooner as the train made no further stops,
-and it was rather late at night by the time I boarded
-it. I thought I would run less risk by making a détour.
-I never dreamed they would have watchers
-out for me at Pittsburgh, and I can’t think yet how
-they managed to get on my track, but almost the
-first minute I landed I spied Balder stretching his
-neck over the crowds. I bolted from the station at
-once and finding a carriage drawn up before the door
-just ready for me I got in and ordered them to drive
-me to East Liberty station.</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid I shall always be suspicious of
-handy closed carriages after this experience. I certainly
-have reason to be. The door was no sooner
-closed on me than the driver began to race like mad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>
-through the streets. I didn’t think much of it at
-first until he had been going some time, fully long
-enough to have reached East Liberty, and the horse
-was still rushing like a locomotive. Then I saw that
-we were in a lonely district of the city that seemed
-unfamiliar. That alarmed me and I tapped on the
-window and called to the driver. He paid no attention.
-Then I found the doors were fastened shut,
-and the windows plugged so they wouldn’t open.</p>
-
-<p>“I discovered that an armed man rode beside
-the driver. I managed to get one of the doors open
-after a good deal of work, and escaped when we
-stopped for a freight train to pass; but I’m satisfied
-that I was being kidnapped and if I hadn’t got away
-just when I did you would never have heard of me
-again or the message either. I finally managed to
-reach East Liberty station and jumped on the first
-train that came in, but I caught a glimpse of Balder
-stretching his neck over the crowd. He must have
-seen me and had Hale and Burke on the watch when
-I got here. They just missed me by a half second.
-They went over to the restaurant—didn’t expect me
-on a special, but I escaped them, and I’m mighty
-glad to get that little paper into your possession and
-out of mine. It’s rather a long story to tell the
-whole, but I think you have the main facts.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a suspicious glitter in the keen eyes of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>
-the kind old chief as he put out his hand and grasped
-Gordon’s in a hearty shake; but all he said was:</p>
-
-<p>“And you are all worn out—I’ll guarantee you
-didn’t sleep much last night.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, no,” said Gordon; “I had to sit up in a
-day-coach and share the seat with another man.
-Besides, I was somewhat excited.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course, of course!” puffed the old chief,
-coughing vigorously, and showing by his gruff attitude
-that he was deeply affected. “Well, young
-man, this won’t be forgotten by the Department.
-Now you go home and take a good sleep. Take the
-whole day off if you wish, and then come down to-morrow
-morning and tell me all about it. Isn’t there
-anything more I need to know at once that justice
-may be done?”</p>
-
-<p>“I believe not,” said Gordon, with a sigh of relief.
-“There’s a list of the men who were at the
-dinner with me. I wrote them down from memory
-last night when I couldn’t sleep. I also wrote a few
-scraps of conversation, which will show you just
-how deep the plot had gone. If I had not read the
-message and known its import, I should not have
-understood what they were talking about.”</p>
-
-<p>“H-m! Yes. If there had been more time before
-you started I might have told you all about it.
-Still, it seemed desirable that you should appear as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>
-much at your ease as possible. I thought this would
-be best accomplished by your knowing nothing of
-the import of the writing when you first met the
-people.”</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose it was as well that I did not know
-any more than I did. You are a great chief, sir! I
-was deeply impressed anew with that fact as I saw
-how wonderfully you had planned for every possible
-emergency. It was simply great, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pooh! Pooh! Get you home and to bed,”
-said the old chief quite brusquely.</p>
-
-<p>He touched a bell and a man appeared.</p>
-
-<p>“Jessup, is the coast clear?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Yessah,” declared the darky. “Dey have jest
-hed a couple o’ shots in de pahk, an’ now dey tuk
-de villains off to der p’lice station. De officers is
-out der waitin’ to ’scort de gemman.”</p>
-
-<p>“Get home with you, Gordon, and don’t come
-to the office till ten in the morning. Then come
-straight to my private room.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon thanked him, and left the room preceded
-by the gray-haired servant. He was surprised to
-find the policemen outside, and wondered still more
-that they seemed to be going one in front and the
-other behind him as he rode along. He was greatly
-relieved that he had not been called upon to give the
-whole story. His heart was filled with anxiety now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>
-to get back to the girl, and tell her everything, and
-yet he dreaded it more than anything he had ever had
-to face in all his life. He sat back on the cushions,
-and, covering his face with his hands, tried to think
-how he should begin, but he could see nothing but her
-sweet eyes filled with tears, think of nothing but the
-way she had looked and smiled during the beautiful
-morning they had spent together in the little town
-of Milton. Beautiful little Milton. Should he ever
-see it again?</p>
-
-<p>Celia at her window grew more and more nervous
-as an hour and then another half-hour slipped
-slowly away, and still he did not come. Then two
-mounted policemen rode rapidly down the street
-following an automobile, in which sat the man for
-whom she waited.</p>
-
-<p>She had no eyes now for the men who had been
-lurking across the way, and when she thought to
-look for them again she saw them running in the
-opposite direction as fast as they could go, making
-wild gestures for a car to stop for them.</p>
-
-<p>She stood by the window and saw Gordon get
-out of the car, and disappear into the building below,
-saw the car wheel and curve away and the
-mounted police take up their stand on either corner;
-heard the clang of the elevator as it started up, and
-the clash of its door as it stopped at that floor; heard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>
-steps coming on toward the door, and the key in the
-latch. Then she turned and looked at him, her two
-hands clasped before her, and her two eyes yearning,
-glad and fearful all at once.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I have been so frightened about you! I
-am so glad you have come!” she said, and caught
-her voice in a sob as she took one little step toward
-him.</p>
-
-<p>He threw his hat upon the floor, wherever it
-might land, and went to meet her, a great light glowing
-in his tired eyes, his arms outstretched to hers.</p>
-
-<p>“And did you care?” he asked in a voice of
-almost awe. “Dear, did you <i>care</i> what became of
-<i>me</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>He had come quite close to her now.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes, I <i>cared</i>! I could not help it.” There
-was a real sob in her voice now, though her eyes
-were shining.</p>
-
-<p>His arms went around her hungrily, as if he
-would draw her to him in spite of everything; yet
-he kept them so encircling, without touching her,
-like a benediction that would enwrap the very soul
-of his beloved. Looking down into her face he
-breathed softly:</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear, it seems as if I must hold you
-close and kiss you!”</p>
-
-<p>She looked up with bated breath, and thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>
-she understood. Then, with a lovely gesture of surrender,
-she whispered, “I can trust you.” Her
-lashes were drooping now over her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Not until you know all,” he said, and put her
-gently from him into the great arm-chair, with a
-look of reverence and self-abnegation she felt she
-never would forget.</p>
-
-<p>“Then, tell me quickly,” she said, a swift fear
-making her weak from head to foot. She laid her
-hand across her heart, as if to help steady its beating.</p>
-
-<p>He wheeled forward the leather couch opposite
-her chair, and sat down, his head drooping, his eyes
-down. He dreaded to begin.</p>
-
-<p>She waited for the revelation, her eyes upon his
-bowed head.</p>
-
-<p>Finally he lifted his eyes and saw her look, and
-a tender light came into his face.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a strange story,” he said. “I don’t know
-what you will think of me after it is told, but I want
-you to know that, blundering, stupid, even criminal,
-though you may think me, I would sooner die this
-minute than cause you one more breath of suffering.”</p>
-
-<p>Her eyes lit up with a wonderful light, and the
-ready tears sprang into them, tears that sparkled
-through the sunshine of a great joy that illumined
-her whole face.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>“Please go on,” she said softly, and added very
-gently, “I believe you.”</p>
-
-<p>But even with those words in his ears the beginning
-was not easy. Gordon drew a deep breath and
-launched forth.</p>
-
-<p>“I am not the man you think,” he said, and
-looked at her to see how she would take it. “My
-name is not George Hayne. My name is Cyril
-Gordon.”</p>
-
-<p>As one might launch an arrow at a beloved victim
-and long that it may not strike the mark, so he sent
-his truth home to her understanding, and waited in
-breathless silence, hoping against hope that this
-might not turn her against him.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she breathed softly, as if some puzzle
-were solving itself. “Oh!”—this time not altogether
-in surprise, nor as if the fact were displeasing.
-She looked at him expectantly for further
-revelation, and he plunged into his story headlong.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m a member of the Secret Service,—headquarters
-here in Washington,—and day before yesterday
-I was sent to New York on an important
-errand. A message of great import written in a private
-code had been stolen from one of our men. I
-was sent to get it before they could decipher it.
-The message involved matters of such tremendous
-significance that I was ordered to go under an assumed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>
-name, and on no account to let anyone know
-of my mission. My orders were to get the message,
-and let nothing hinder me in bringing it with all
-haste to Washington. I went with the full understanding
-that I might even be called upon to risk my
-life.”</p>
-
-<p>He looked up. The girl sat wide-eyed, with
-hands clasped together at her throat.</p>
-
-<p>He hurried on, not to cause her any needless
-anxiety.</p>
-
-<p>“I won’t weary you with details. There were a
-good many annoying hindrances on the way, which
-served to make me nervous, but I carried out the programme
-laid down by my chief, and succeeded in
-getting possession of the message and making my
-escape from the house of the man who had stolen it.
-As I closed the door behind me, knowing that it
-could be but a matter of a few seconds at longest
-before six furious men would be on my track, who
-would stop at nothing to get back what I had taken
-from them, I saw a carriage standing almost before
-the house. The driver took me for the man he
-awaited, and I lost no time in taking advantage of his
-mistake. I jumped in, telling him to drive as fast as
-he could. I intended to give him further directions,
-but he had evidently had them from another quarter,
-and I thought I could call to him as soon as we were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>
-out of the dangerous neighborhood. To add to my
-situation I soon became sure that an automobile and
-a motor-cycle were following me. I recognized one
-of the men in the car as the man who sat opposite
-to me at the table a few minutes before. My coachman
-drove like mad, while I hurried to secure the
-message so that if I were caught it would not be
-found, and to put on a slight disguise—some eyebrows
-and things the chief had given me. Before
-I knew where I was, the carriage had stopped before
-a building. At first I thought it was a prison—and
-the car and motor-cycle came to a halt just behind
-me. I felt that I was pretty well trapped.”</p>
-
-<p>The girl gave a low moan, and Gordon, not daring
-to look up, hurried on with his story.</p>
-
-<p>“There isn’t much more to tell that you do not
-already know. I soon discovered the building was
-a church, not a prison. What happened afterward
-was the result of my extreme perturbation of mind,
-I suppose. I cannot account for my stupidity and
-subsequent cowardice in any other way. Neither
-was it possible for me to explain matters satisfactorily
-at any time during the whole mix-up, on account
-of the trust which I carried, and which I
-could on no account reveal even in confidence, or put
-in jeopardy in the slightest degree. Naturally at
-first my commission and how to get safely through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>
-it all was the only thing of importance to me. If you
-keep this in mind perhaps you will be able to judge
-me less harshly. My only thought when the carriage
-came to a halt was how to escape from those two
-pursuers, and that more or less pervaded my mind
-during what followed so that ordinary matters which
-at another time would have been at once clear to
-me, meant nothing at all. You see, the instant that
-carriage came to a standstill some one threw open the
-door, and I heard a voice call ‘Where is the best
-man?’ Then another voice said, ‘Here he is!’ I
-took it that they thought I was best man, but would
-soon discover that I wasn’t when I came into the
-light. There wasn’t any chance to slip away, or I
-should have done so, and vanished in the dark, but
-everybody surrounded me, and seemed to think I
-was all right. The two men who had followed were
-close behind eyeing me keenly. I’m satisfied that
-they were to blame for that wild ride we took
-in Pittsburgh! I soon saw by the remarks that
-the man I was supposed to be had been away from
-this country for ten years, and of course then
-they would not be very critical. I tried twice to explain
-that there was a mistake, but both times they
-misunderstood me and thought I was saying I
-couldn’t go in the procession because I hadn’t practised.
-I don’t just know how I came to be in such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>
-a dreadful mess. It would seem as if it ought to
-have been a very easy thing to say I had got into the
-wrong carriage and they must excuse me, that I
-wasn’t their man, but, you see, they gave me no time
-to think nor to speak. They just turned me over
-from one man to another and took everything for
-granted, and I, finding that I would have to break
-loose and flee before their eyes if I wished to escape,
-reflected that there would be no harm in marching
-down the aisle as best man in a delayed wedding, if
-that was all there was to do. I could disappear as
-soon as the ceremony was over, and no one would be
-the wiser. The real best man would probably turn
-up and then they might wonder as they pleased for
-I would be far away and perhaps this was as good
-a place as any in which to hide for half an hour until
-my pursuers were baffled and well on their way seeking
-elsewhere for me. I can see now that I made
-a grave mistake in allowing even so much deception,
-but I did not see any harm in it then, and they all
-seemed in great distress for the ceremony to go forward.
-Bear in mind also that I was at that time
-entirely taken up with the importance of hiding my
-message until I could take it safely to my chief.
-Nothing else seemed to matter much. If the real best
-man was late to the wedding and they were willing to
-use me in his place what harm could come from it?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>
-He certainly deserved it for being late and if he came
-in during the ceremony he would think some one else
-had been put in his place. They introduced me to
-your brother—Jefferson. I thought he was the
-bridegroom, and I thought so until they laid your
-hand in mine!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she moaned, and the little hand went to
-help its mate cover her face.</p>
-
-<p>“I knew it!” he said bitterly. “I knew you
-would feel just that way as soon as you knew. I
-don’t blame you. I deserve it! I was a fool, a villain,
-a dumb brute—whatever you have a mind to
-call me! You can’t begin to understand how I have
-suffered for you since this happened, and how I have
-blamed myself.”</p>
-
-<p>He got up suddenly and strode over to the window,
-frowning down into the sunlit street, and wondering
-how it was that everybody seemed to be going
-on in exactly the same hurry as ever, when for him
-life had suddenly come to a standstill.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> room was very still. The girl did not even
-sob. He turned after a moment and went back to
-that bowed golden head there in the deep crimson
-chair.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here,” he said, “I know you can’t ever
-forgive me. I don’t expect it! I don’t deserve it!
-But please don’t feel so awfully about it. I’ll explain
-it all to every one. I’ll make it all right for
-you. I’ll take every bit of blame on myself, and get
-plenty of witnesses to prove all about it——”</p>
-
-<p>The girl looked up with sorrow and surprise in
-her wet eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I do not blame you,” she said, mournfully.
-“I cannot see how you were to blame. It
-was no one’s fault. It was just an unusual happening—a
-strange set of circumstances. I could not
-blame you. There is nothing to forgive, and if there
-were I would gladly forgive it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Then what on earth makes you look so white
-and feel so distressed?” he asked in a distracted
-voice, as a man will sometimes look and talk to the
-woman he loves when she becomes a tearful problem
-of despair to his obtuse eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, don’t you know?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>“No, I don’t,” he said. “You’re surely not
-mourning for that brute of a man to whom you had
-promised to sacrifice your life?”</p>
-
-<p>She shook her head, and buried her face in her
-hands again. He could see that the tears were dropping
-between her fingers, and they seemed to fall red
-hot upon his heart.</p>
-
-<p>“Then what is it?” His tone was almost sharp
-in its demand, but she only cried the harder. Her
-slender shoulders were shaking with her grief now.</p>
-
-<p>He put his hand down softly and touched her
-bowed head.</p>
-
-<p>“Won’t you tell me, Dear?” he breathed, and,
-stooping, knelt beside her.</p>
-
-<p>The sobs ceased, and she was quite still for a
-moment, while his hand still lay on her hair with
-that gentle, pleading touch.</p>
-
-<p>“It is—because you married me—in—that way—without
-knowing—— Oh, can’t you see how terrible——”</p>
-
-<p>Oh, the folly and blindness of love! Gordon got
-up from his knees as if she had stung him.</p>
-
-<p>“You need not feel bad about that any more,”
-he said in a hurt tone. “Did I not tell you I would
-set you free at once? Surely no one in his senses
-could call you bound after such circumstances.”</p>
-
-<p>She was very still for an instant, as if he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>
-struck her, and then she raised her golden head, and
-a pair of sweet eyes suddenly grown haughty.</p>
-
-<p>“You mean that <i>I</i> will set <i>you</i> free!” she said
-coldly. “I could not think of letting you be bound
-by a misunderstanding when you were under great
-stress of mind. You were in no wise to blame. <i>I</i>
-will set <i>you</i> free.”</p>
-
-<p>“As you please,” he retorted bitterly, turning
-toward the window again. “It all amounts to the
-same thing. There is nothing for you to feel bad
-about.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, there is,” she answered, with a quick rush
-of feeling that broke through her assumed haughtiness.
-“I shall always feel that I have broken in
-upon your life. You have had a most trying experience
-with me, and you never can quite forget it.
-Things won’t be the same——”</p>
-
-<p>She paused and the quiet tears chased each other
-eloquently down her face.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Gordon still bitterly; “things will
-never be the same for me. I shall always see you
-sitting there in my chair. I shall always be missing
-you from it! But I am glad—glad. I would never
-have known what I missed if it had not been for
-this.” He spoke almost savagely.</p>
-
-<p>He did not look around, but she was staring at
-him in astonishment, her blue eyes suddenly alight.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>“What do you mean?” she asked softly.</p>
-
-<p>He wheeled round upon her. “I mean that I
-shall never forget you; that I do not want to forget
-you. I should rather have had these two days of
-your sweet company, than all my lifetime in any
-other companionship.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she breathed. “Then, why—why did
-you say what you did about being free?”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t say anything about being free that I
-remember. It was you that said that.”</p>
-
-<p>“I said I would set you free. I could not, of
-course, hold you to a bond you did not want——”</p>
-
-<p>“But I did not say I did not want it. I said I
-would not hold you if <i>you</i> did not want to stay.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you mean that if you had known me a little—that
-is, just as much as you know me now—and
-had come in there and found out your mistake before
-it was too late, that you would have <i>wanted</i> to
-go on with it?”</p>
-
-<p>She waited for his answer breathlessly.</p>
-
-<p>“If you had known me just as much as you do
-now, and had looked up and seen that it was I and
-not George Hayne you were marrying, would <i>you</i>
-have wanted to go on and be married?”</p>
-
-<p>Her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes confused.</p>
-
-<p>“I asked you first,” she said, with just a flicker
-of a smile.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>He caught the shimmer of light in her eyes, and
-came toward her eagerly, his own face all aglow
-now with a dawning understanding.</p>
-
-<p>“Darling,” he said, “I can go farther than you
-have asked. From the first minute my eyes rested
-upon your face under that mist of white veil I
-wished with all my heart that I might have known
-you before any other man had found and won you.
-When you turned and looked at me with that deep
-sorrow in your eyes, you pledged me with every fibre
-of my being to fight for you. I was yours from that
-instant. And when your little hand was laid in
-mine, my heart went out in longing to have it stay
-in mine forever. I know now, as I did not understand
-then, that the real reason for my not doing
-something to make known my identity at that instant
-was not because I was afraid of any of the
-things that might happen, or any scene I might make,
-but because my heart was fighting for the right to
-keep what had been given me out of the unknown.
-You are my wife, by every law of heaven and earth,
-if your heart will but say yes. I love you, as I
-never knew a man could love, and yet if you do not
-want to stay with me I will set you free; but it is
-true that I should never be the same, for I am married
-to you in my heart, and always shall be. Darling,
-look up and answer my question now.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>He stood before her with outstretched arms, and
-for answer she rose and came to him slowly, with
-downcast eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I do not want to be set free,” she said.</p>
-
-<p>Then gently, tenderly, he folded his arms about
-her, as if she were too precious to handle roughly,
-and laid his lips upon hers.</p>
-
-<p>It was the shrill, insistent clang of the telephone
-bell that broke in upon their bliss. For a moment
-Gordon let it ring, but its merciless clatter was not
-to be denied; so, drawing Celia close within his arm,
-he made her come with him to the ’phone.</p>
-
-<p>To his annoyance, the haughty voice of Miss
-Bentley answered him from the little black distance
-of the ’phone.</p>
-
-<p>His arm was about Celia, and she felt his whole
-body stiffen with formality.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Miss Bentley! Good-morning! Your
-message? Why no! Ah! Well, I have but just
-come in——”</p>
-
-<p>A pause during which Celia, panic-stricken,
-handed him the paper on which she had written
-Julia’s message.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah! Oh, yes, I have the message. Yes, it is
-very kind of you—” he murmured stiffly, “but you
-will have to excuse me. No, really. It is utterly
-impossible! I have another engagement—” his arm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>
-stole closer around Celia’s waist and caught her
-hand, holding it with a meaningful pressure. He
-smiled, with a grimace toward the telephone which
-gladdened her heart. “Pardon me, I didn’t hear
-that,” he went on.... “Oh, give up my engagement
-and come?... Not possibly!”
-His voice rang with a glad, decided force, and he
-held still closer the soft fingers in his hand....
-“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way about it. I
-certainly am not trying to be disagreeable. No, I
-could not come to-morrow night either....
-I cannot make any plans for the next few days....
-I may have to leave town again....
-It is quite possible I may have to return to New
-York. Yes, business has been very pressing. I hope
-you will excuse me. I am sorry to disappoint you.
-No, of course I didn’t do it on purpose. I shall have
-some pleasant news to tell you when I see you again—or—”
-with a glance of deep love at Celia, “perhaps
-I shall find means to let you know of it before
-I see you.”</p>
-
-<p>The color came and went in Celia’s cheeks. She
-understood what he meant and nestled closer to him.</p>
-
-<p>“No, no, I could not tell it over the ’phone. No,
-it will keep. Good things will always keep if they
-are well cared for you know. No, really I can’t.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>
-And I’m very sorry to disappoint you to-night, but
-it can’t be helped.... Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>He hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief.</p>
-
-<p>“Who is Miss Bentley?” asked Celia, with natural
-interest. She was pleased that he had not addressed
-her as “Julia.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, she is—a friend—I suppose you would
-call her. She has been taking possession of my time
-lately rather more than I really enjoyed. Still, she
-is a nice girl. You’ll like her, I think; but I hope
-you’ll never get too intimate. I shouldn’t like to
-have her continually around. She——” he paused
-and finished, laughing—“she makes me tired.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was afraid, from her tone when she ’phoned
-you, that she was a very dear friend—that she might
-be some one you cared for. There was a sort of
-proprietorship in her tone.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, that’s the very word, proprietorship,” he
-laughed. “I couldn’t care for her. I never did.
-I tried to consider her in that light one day, because
-I’d been told repeatedly that I ought to settle down,
-but the thought of having her with me always was—well—intolerable.
-The fact is, you reign supreme
-in a heart that has never loved another girl. I didn’t
-know there was such a thing as love like this. I
-knew I lacked something, but I didn’t know what it
-was. This is greater than all the gifts of life, this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>
-gift of your love. And that it should come to me in
-this beautiful, unsought way seems too good to be
-true!”</p>
-
-<p>He drew her to him once more and looked down
-into her lovely face, as if he could not drink enough
-of its sweetness.</p>
-
-<p>“And to think you are willing to be my wife!
-My wife!” and he folded her close again.</p>
-
-<p>A discreet tap on the door announced the arrival
-of the man Henry, and Gordon roused to the necessity
-of ordering lunch.</p>
-
-<p>He stepped to the door with a happy smile and
-held it open.</p>
-
-<p>“Come in a minute, Henry,” he said. “This
-is my wife. I hope you will henceforth take her
-wishes as your special charge, and do for her as you
-have done so faithfully for me.”</p>
-
-<p>The man’s eyes shone with pleasure as he bowed
-low before the gentle lady.</p>
-
-<p>“I is very glad to heah it, sah, and I offers you
-my congratchumlations, sah, and de lady, too. She
-can’t find no bettah man in the whole United States
-dan Mars’ Gordon. I’s mighty glad you done got
-ma’ied, sah, an’ I hopes you bof have a mighty fine
-life.”</p>
-
-<p>The luncheon was served in Henry’s best style,
-and his dark face shone as he stepped noiselessly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>
-about, putting silver and china and glass in place, and
-casting admiring glances at the lady, who stood
-holding the little miniature in her hand and asking
-questions with a gentle voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Your mother, you say? How dear she is!
-And she died so long ago! You never knew her?
-Oh, how strange and sweet and pitiful to have a
-beautiful girl-mother like that!”</p>
-
-<p>She put out her hand to his in the shelter of the
-deep window, and they thought Henry did not see
-the look and touch that passed between them; but
-he discreetly averted his eyes and smiled benignly at
-the salt-cellars and the celery he was arranging.
-Then he hurried out to a florist’s next door and returned
-with a dozen white roses, which he arranged
-in a queer little crystal pitcher, one of the few articles
-belonging to his mother that Gordon possessed. It
-had never been used before, except to stand on the
-mantel.</p>
-
-<p>It was after they had finished their delightful
-luncheon, and Henry had cleared the table and left
-the room, that Gordon remarked:</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder what has become of George Hayne.
-Do you suppose he means to try to make trouble?”</p>
-
-<p>Celia’s hands fluttered to her throat with a little
-gesture of fear.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she said. “I had forgotten him! How<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>
-terrible! He will do <i>something</i>, of course. He will
-do <i>everything</i>. He will probably carry out all his
-threats. How could I have forgotten! Perhaps
-Mamma is now in great distress. What can we do?
-What can <i>I</i> do?”</p>
-
-<p>She looked up at him helplessly, and his heart
-bounded at the thought that she was his to protect
-as long as life should last, and that she already depended
-upon him.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be frightened,” he soothed her. “He
-cannot do anything very dreadful, and if he tries
-we’ll soon silence him. What he has written in those
-letters is blackmail. He is simply a big coward, who
-will run and hide as soon as he is exposed. He
-thought you did not understand law, and so took
-advantage of you. I’m sure I can silence him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, do you think so? But Mamma! Poor
-Mamma! It will kill her! And George will stop at
-nothing when he is crossed. I have known him too
-long. It will be <i>terrible</i> if he carries out his threat.”
-Tears were in her eyes, agony was in her face.</p>
-
-<p>“We must telephone your mother at once and
-set her heart at rest. Then we can find out just what
-ought to be done,” said Gordon soothingly. “It
-was unforgivably thoughtless in me not to have
-done it before.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>Celia’s face was radiant at the thought of speaking
-to her mother.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, how beautiful! Why didn’t I think of that
-before! What perfectly dear things telephones
-are!”</p>
-
-<p>With one accord, they went to the telephone
-table.</p>
-
-<p>“Shall you call them up, or shall I?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“You call, and then I will speak to Mamma,”
-she said, her eyes shining with her joy in him. “I
-want them to hear your voice again. They can’t
-help knowing you are all right when they hear your
-voice.”</p>
-
-<p>For that, he gave her a glance very much worth
-having.</p>
-
-<p>“Just how do you account for the fact that you
-didn’t think I was all right yesterday afternoon? I
-have a very realizing sense that you didn’t. I used
-my voice to the best of my ability, but it did no good
-then.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you see, that was different! There were
-those letters to be accounted for. Mamma and Jeff
-don’t know anything about the letters.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what are you going to tell them now?”</p>
-
-<p>She drew her brows down a minute and thought.</p>
-
-<p>“You’d better find out how much they already
-know,” he suggested. “If this George Hayne hasn’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>
-turned up yet, perhaps you can wait until you can
-write, or we might be able to go up to-morrow and
-explain it ourselves.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, could we? How lovely!”</p>
-
-<p>“I think we could,” said Gordon. “I’m sure
-I can make it possible. Of course, you know a wedding
-journey isn’t exactly in the program of the
-Secret Service, but I might be able to work them for
-one. I surely can in a few days if this Holman business
-doesn’t hold me up. I may be needed for a
-witness. I’ll have to talk with the chief first.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, how perfectly beautiful! Then you call
-them up, and just say something pleasant—anything,
-you know—and then say I’ll speak to Mamma.”</p>
-
-<p>She gave him the number, and in a few minutes
-a voice from New York said, “Hello!”</p>
-
-<p>“Hello!” called Gordon. “Is this Mr. Jefferson
-Hathaway?... Well, this is your new
-brother-in-law. How are you all?... Your
-mother recovered from all the excitement and weariness?...
-That’s good.... What’s
-that?... You’ve been trying to ’phone us in
-Chicago?... But we’re not in Chicago. We
-changed our minds and came to Washington instead....
-Yes, we’re in Washington—The Harris
-Apartments. We have been very selfish not to have
-communicated with you sooner. At least I have.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>
-Celia hasn’t had any choice in the matter. I’ve kept
-her so busy. Yes, she’s very well, and seems to look
-happy. She wants to speak for herself. I’ll try to
-arrange to bring her up to-morrow for a little visit.
-I want to see you too. We’ve a lot of things to explain
-to you.... Here is Celia. She wants to
-speak to you.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia, her eyes shining, her lips quivering with
-suppressed excitement, took the receiver.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Jeff dear, it’s good to hear your voice,” she
-said. “Is everything all right? Yes, I’ve been having
-a perfectly beautiful time, and I’ve something
-fine to tell you. All those nice things you said to me
-just before you got off the train are true. Yes, he’s
-just as nice as you said, and a great deal nicer besides.
-Oh, yes, I’m very happy, and I want to speak
-to Mamma please. Jeff, is she all right? Is she
-<i>perfectly</i> well, and not fretting a bit? You know
-you promised to tell me. What’s that? She thought
-I looked sad? Well, I did but that’s all gone now.
-Everything is perfectly beautiful. Tell mother to
-come to the ’phone please—I want to make her understand.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to tell her, dear,” she whispered,
-looking up at Gordon. “I’m afraid George will get
-there before we do and make her worry.”</p>
-
-<p>For answer he stooped and kissed her, his arm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>
-encircling her and drawing her close. “Whatever
-you think best, dearest,” he whispered back.</p>
-
-<p>“Is that you, Mamma?” With a happy smile she
-turned back to the ’phone. “Dear Mamma! Yes, I’m
-all safe and happy, and I’m so sorry you have worried.
-We won’t let you do it again. But listen;
-I’ve something to tell you, a surprise—Mamma, I
-did not marry George Hayne at all. No, I say I <i>did
-not</i> marry George Hayne at all. George Hayne is a
-wicked man. I can’t tell you about it over the ’phone
-but that was why I looked sad. Yes, I was <i>married</i>
-all right, but not to George. He’s oh, so different,
-Mother you can’t think. He’s right here beside me
-now, and Mother, he is just as dear—you’d be very
-happy about him if you could see him. What did
-you say? Didn’t I mean to marry George? Why
-Mother, I never wanted to. I was awfully unhappy
-about it, and I knew I made you feel so too, though
-I tried not to. But I’ll explain all about it. You’ll
-be perfectly satisfied when you know all about it....
-No, there’s nothing whatever for you to
-worry about. Everything is right now and life looks
-more beautiful to me than it ever did before. What’s
-his name? Oh;” she looked up at Gordon with a
-funny little expression of dismay. She had forgotten
-and he whispered it in her ear.</p>
-
-<p>“Cyril—”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>“It’s Cyril, Mother! Isn’t that a pretty name?
-Which name? Oh, the first name of course. The
-last name?”</p>
-
-<p>“Gordon—” he supplied in her ear again.</p>
-
-<p>“Cyril Gordon, Mother,” she said, giggling in
-spite of herself at her strange predicament....
-“Yes, Mother. I am very, very happy. I couldn’t
-be happier unless I had you and Jeff, too, and”—she
-paused, hesitating at the unaccustomed name—“and
-Cyril says we’re coming to visit you to-morrow.
-We’ll come up and see you and explain everything.
-And you’re not to worry about George
-Hayne if he comes. Just let Jeff put him off by telling
-him you have sent for me, or something of the
-sort, and don’t pay any attention to what he says.
-What? You say he did come? How strange—and
-he hasn’t been back? I’m so thankful. He is dreadful.
-Oh, Mother, you don’t know what I’ve escaped!
-And Cyril is good and dear. What? You
-want to speak to him? All right. He’s right here.
-Good-by, Mother, dear, till to-morrow. And you’ll
-promise not to worry about anything? All right.
-Here is—Cyril.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon took the receiver.</p>
-
-<p>“Mother, I’m taking good care of her, just as I
-promised, and I’m going to bring her for a flying
-visit up to see you to-morrow. Yes, I’ll take good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>
-care of her. She is very dear to me. The best thing
-that ever came into my life.”</p>
-
-<p>Then a mother’s blessing came thrilling over the
-wires, and touched the handsome, manly face with
-tenderness.</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you,” he said. “I shall try always to
-make you glad you said those words.”</p>
-
-<p>They returned to looking in each other’s eyes,
-after the receiver was hung up, as if they had been
-parted a long time. It seemed somehow as if their
-joy must be greater than any other married couple,
-because they had all their courting yet to do. It was
-beautiful to think of what was before them.</p>
-
-<p>There was so much on both sides to be told; and
-to be told over again because only half had been told;
-and there were so many hopes and experiences to be
-exchanged; so many opinions to compare, and to rejoice
-over because they were alike on many essentials.
-Then there were the rooms to be gone through, and
-Gordon’s pictures and favorite books to look at
-and talk about, and plans for the future to be touched
-upon—just barely touched upon.</p>
-
-<p>The apartment would do until they could look
-about and get a house, Gordon said, his heart swelling
-with the proud thought that at last he would have
-a real home, like his other married friends, with a
-real princess to preside over it.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>Then Celia had to tell all about the horror of the
-last three months, with the unpleasant shadows of
-the preceding years back of it. She told this in the
-dusk of evening, before Henry had come in to light
-up, and before they had realized that it was almost
-dinner-time. She told it with her face hidden on her
-husband’s shoulder, and his arms close about her,
-to give her comfort at each revelation of the story.
-They tried also to plan what to do about George
-Hayne; and then there was the whole story of Gordon’s
-journey and commission from the time the
-old chief had called him into the office until he came
-to stand beside her at the church altar and they were
-married. It was told in careful detail with all the
-comical, exasperating and pitiful incidents of white
-dog and little newsboy; but the strangest part about
-it all was that Gordon never said one word about
-Julia Bentley and her imaginary presence with him
-that first day, and he never even knew that he had
-left out an important detail.</p>
-
-<p>Celia laughed over the white dog and declared
-they must bring him home to live with them; and she
-cried over the story of the brave little newsboy and
-was eager to visit him in New York, promising herself
-all sorts of pleasure in taking him gifts and permanently
-bettering his condition; and it was in this
-way that Gordon incidentally learned that his wife<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>
-had a fortune in her own right, a fact that for a
-time gave him great uneasiness of mind until she had
-soothed him and laughed at him for an hour or
-more; for Gordon was an independent creature and
-had ideas about supporting his wife by his own toil.
-Besides it seemed an unfair advantage to have taken
-a wife and a fortune as it were unaware.</p>
-
-<p>But Celia’s fortune had not spoiled her, and she
-soon made him see that it had always been a mere
-incident in her scheme of living; comfortable and
-pleasant incident to be sure, but still an incident to
-be kept always in the background, and never for a
-moment to be a cause for self-gratulation or pride.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon found himself dreading the explanation
-that would have to come when he reached New York
-and faced his wife’s mother and brother. Celia had
-accepted his explanations, because, somehow by the
-beautiful ways of the spirit, her soul had found and
-believed in his soul before the truth was made known
-to her, but would her mother and brother be able
-also to believe? And he fell to planning with Celia
-just how he should tell the story; and this led to his
-bringing out a number of letters and papers that
-would be worth while showing as credentials, and
-every step of the way, as Celia got glimpse after
-glimpse into his past, her face shone with joy and
-her heart leaped with the assurance that her lot had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>
-been cast in goodly places, for she perceived not only
-that this man was honored and respected in high
-places, but that his early life had been peculiarly
-pure and true.</p>
-
-<p>The strange loneliness that had surrounded his
-young manhood seemed suddenly to have broken
-ahead of him, and to have opened out into the glory
-of the companionship of one peculiarly fitted to fill
-the need of his life. Thus they looked into one another’s
-eyes reading their life-joy, and entered into
-the beautiful miracle of acquaintanceship.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning quite early the ’phone called
-Gordon to the office. The chief’s secretary said the
-matter was urgent.</p>
-
-<p>He hurried away leaving Celia somewhat
-anxious lest their plans for going to New York that
-day could not be carried out, but she made up her
-mind not to fret even if the trip had to be put off a
-little, and solaced herself with a short visit with her
-mother over the telephone.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon entered his chief’s office a trifle anxiously,
-for he felt that in justice to his wife he ought
-to take her right back to New York and get matters
-there adjusted; but he feared that there would be
-business to hold him at home until the Holman
-matter was settled.</p>
-
-<p>The chief greeted him affably and bade him sit
-down.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sorry to have called you up so early,” he
-said, “but we needed you. The fact is, they’ve
-arrested Holman and five other men, and you are in
-immediate demand to identify them. Would it be
-asking too much of an already overworked man to
-send you back to New York to-day?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon almost sprang from his seat in pleasure.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>“It just exactly fits in with my plans, or, rather,
-my wishes,” he said, smiling. “There are several
-matters of my own that I would like to attend to in
-New York and for which of course I did not have
-time.”</p>
-
-<p>He paused and looked at his chief, half hesitating,
-marvelling that the way had so miraculously
-opened for him to keep silence a little longer on the
-subject of his marriage. Perhaps the chief need
-never be told that the marriage ceremony took place
-on the day of the Holman dinner.</p>
-
-<p>“That is good,” said the chief, smiling. “You
-certainly have earned the right to attend to your own
-affairs. Then we need not feel so bad at having to
-send you back. Can you go on the afternoon train?
-Good! Then let us hear your account of your trip
-briefly, to see if there are any points we didn’t notice
-yesterday. But first just step here a moment. I
-have something to show you.”</p>
-
-<p>He flung open the door to the next office.</p>
-
-<p>“You knew that Ferry had left the Department
-on account of his ill-health? I have taken the liberty
-of having your things moved in here. This will
-hereafter be your headquarters, and you will be next
-to me in the Department.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon turned in amazement and gazed at the
-kindly old face. Promotion he had hoped for, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>
-such promotion, right over the heads of his elders
-and superiors, he had never dreamed of receiving.
-He could have taken the chief in his arms.</p>
-
-<p>“Pooh! Pooh!” said the chief. “You deserve
-it, you deserve it!” when Gordon tried to blunder
-out some words of appreciation. Then, as if to cap
-the climax, he added:</p>
-
-<p>“And, by the way, you know some one has got
-to run across the water to look after that Stanhope
-matter. That will fall to you, I’m afraid. Sorry
-to keep you trotting around the globe, but perhaps
-you’ll like to make a little vacation of it. The Department’ll
-give you some time if you want it. Oh,
-don’t thank me! It’s simply the reward of doing
-your duty, to have more duties given you, and higher
-ones. You have done well, young man. I have here
-all the papers in the Stanhope case, and full directions
-written out, and then if you can plan for it you
-needn’t return, unless it suits your pleasure. You
-understand the matter as fully as I do already. And
-now for business. Let’s hurry through. There are
-one or two little matters we must talk over and I
-know you will want to hurry back and get ready for
-your journey.” And so after all the account of
-Gordon’s extraordinary escape and eventful journey
-home became by reason of its hasty repetition a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>
-most prosaic story composed of the bare facts and
-not all of those.</p>
-
-<p>At parting the chief pressed Gordon’s hand with
-heartiness and ushered him out into the hall, with
-the same brusque manner he used to close all business
-interviews, and Gordon found himself hurrying
-through the familiar halls in a daze of happiness, the
-secret of his unexpected marriage still his own—and
-hers.</p>
-
-<p>Celia was watching at the window when his key
-clicked in the lock and he let himself into the apartment
-his face alight with the joy of meeting her
-again after the brief absence. She turned in a quiver
-of pleasure at his coming.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, get ready,” he said joyfully. “We are
-ordered off to New York on the afternoon train,
-with a wedding trip to Europe into the bargain; and
-I’m promoted to the next place to the chief. What
-do you think of that for a morning’s surprise?”</p>
-
-<p>He tossed up his hat like a boy, came over to
-where she stood, and stooping laid reverent lips upon
-her brow and eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, beautiful! lovely!” cried Celia, ecstatically,
-“come sit down on the couch and tell me about
-it. We can work faster afterward if we get it off
-our minds. Was your chief very much shocked that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>
-you were married without his permission or knowledge?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, that was the best of all. I didn’t have
-to tell him I was married. And he is not to know
-until just as I sail. He need never know how it all
-happened. It isn’t his business and it would be hard
-to explain. No one need ever know except your
-mother and brother unless you wish them to, dear.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I am so glad and relieved,” said Celia, delightedly.
-“I’ve been worrying about that a little,—what
-people would think of us,—for of course we
-couldn’t possibly explain it all out as it is to us.
-They would always be watching us to see if we
-really cared for each other; and suspecting that we
-didn’t, and it would be horrid. I think it is our own
-precious secret, and nobody but mamma and Jeff
-have a right to know, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I certainly do, and I was casting about in my
-mind as I went into the office how I could manage
-not to tell the chief, when what did he do but spring
-a proposition on me to go at once to New York and
-identify those men. He apologized tremendously
-for having to send me right back again, but said it
-was necessary. I told him it just suited me for I
-had affairs of my own that I had not had time to
-attend to when I was there, and would be glad to
-go back and see to them. That let me out on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>
-wedding question for it would be only necessary to
-tell him I was married when I got back. He would
-never ask when.”</p>
-
-<p>“But the announcements,” said Celia catching
-her breath laughingly, “I never thought of that.
-We’ll just have to have some kind of announcements
-or my friends will not understand about my new
-name; and we’ll have to send him one, won’t we?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I don’t know. Couldn’t we get along
-without announcements? You can explain to your
-intimate friends, and the others won’t ever remember
-the name after a few months—we’ll not be likely
-to meet many of them right away. I’ll write to my
-chief and tell him informally leaving out the date
-entirely. He won’t miss it. If we have announcements
-at all we needn’t send him one. He wouldn’t
-be likely ever to see one any other way, or to notice
-the date. I think we can manage that matter. We’ll
-talk it over with your—” he hesitated and then smiling
-tenderly added, “we’ll talk it over with <i>mother</i>.
-How good it sounds to say that. I never knew my
-mother you know.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia nestled her hands in his and murmured,
-“Oh, I am so happy,—so happy! But I don’t understand
-how you got a wedding trip without telling
-your chief about our marriage.”</p>
-
-<p>“Easy as anything. He asked me if I would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>
-mind running across the water to attend to a matter
-for the service and said I might have extra time
-while there for a vacation. He never suspects that
-vacation is to be used as a wedding trip. I’ll write
-him, or ’phone him the night we leave New York. I
-may have to stay in the city two or three days to
-get this Holman matter settled, and then we can be
-off. In the meantime you can spend the time reconciling
-your mother to her new son. Do you think
-we’ll have a very hard time explaining matters to
-her?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit,” said Celia, gaily. “She never did
-like George. It was the only thing we ever disagreed
-about, my marrying him. She suspected all
-the time I wasn’t happy and couldn’t understand why
-I insisted on marrying him when I hadn’t seen him
-for ten years. She begged me to wait until he had
-been back in the country for a year or two, but he
-would not hear to such a thing and threatened to
-carry out his worst at once.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s heart suddenly contracted with righteous
-wrath over the cowardliness of the man who
-sought to gain his own ends by intimidating a
-woman,—and this woman, so dear, so beautiful, so
-lovely in her nature. It seemed the man’s heart
-must indeed be black to have done what he did. He
-mentally resolved to search him out and bring<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>
-him to justice as soon as he reached New York. It
-puzzled him to understand how easily he seemed to
-have abandoned his purposes. Perhaps after all he
-was more of a coward than they thought, and had
-not dared to remain in the country when he found
-that Celia had braved his wrath and married another
-man. He would find out about him and set the girl’s
-heart at rest just as soon as possible, that any
-embarrassment at some future time might be avoided.
-Gordon stooped and kissed his wife again, a caress
-that seemed to promise all reparation for the past.</p>
-
-<p>But it suddenly occurred to the two that trains
-did not wait for lovers’ long loitering, and with one
-accord they went to work. Celia of course had very
-little preparation to make. Her trunk was probably
-in Chicago and would need to be wired for. Gordon
-attended to that the first thing, looking up the number
-of the check and ordering it back to New York
-by telegraph. Turning from the telephone he rang
-for the man and asked Celia to give the order for
-lunch while he got together some things that he
-must take with him. A stay of several weeks would
-necessitate a little more baggage than he had taken
-to New York.</p>
-
-<p>He went into the bedroom and began pulling out
-things to pack but when Celia turned from giving
-her directions she found him standing in the bedroom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>
-doorway with an old-fashioned velvet jewel case in
-his hand which he had just taken from the little
-safe in his room. His face wore a wonderful tender
-light as if he had just discovered something precious.</p>
-
-<p>“Dear,” he said, “I wonder if you will care for
-these. They were mother’s. Perhaps this ring will
-do until I can buy you a new one. See if it will fit
-you. It was my mother’s.”</p>
-
-<p>He held out a ring containing a diamond of
-singular purity and brilliance in quaint old-fashioned
-setting.</p>
-
-<p>Celia put out her hand with its wedding ring, the
-ring that he had put upon her finger at the altar, and
-he slipped the other jewelled one above it. It fitted
-perfectly.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a beauty,” breathed Celia, holding out her
-hand to admire it, “and I would far rather have it
-than a new one. Your dear little mother!”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s not much else here but a little string of
-pearls and a pin or two. I have always kept them
-near me. Somehow they seemed like a link between
-me and mother. I was keeping them for—” he hesitated
-and then giving her a rare smile he finished:</p>
-
-<p>“I was keeping them for you.”</p>
-
-<p>Her answering look was eloquent, and needed no
-words which was well, for Henry appeared at that
-moment to serve luncheon and remind his master<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>
-that his train left in a little over two hours. There
-was no further time for sentiment.</p>
-
-<p>And yet, these two, it seemed, could not be practical
-that day. They idled over their luncheon and
-dawdled over their packing, stopping to look at this
-and that picture or bit of bric-a-brac that Gordon
-had picked up in some of his travels; and Henry
-finally had to take things in his own hands, pack
-them off and send their baggage after them. Henry
-was a capable man and rejoiced to see the devotion
-of his master and his new mistress, but he had a
-practical head and knew where his part came in.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> journey back to New York seemed all too
-brief for the two whose lives had just been blended
-so unexpectedly, and every mile was filled with a
-new and sweet discovery of delight in one another;
-and then, when they reached the city they rushed in
-on Mrs. Hathaway and the eager young Jeff like
-two children who had so much to tell they did not
-know where to begin.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hathaway settled the matter by insisting
-on their going to dinner immediately and leaving
-all explanations until afterward; and with the servants
-present of course there was little that could
-be said about the matter that each one had most at
-heart. But there was a spirit of deep happiness in
-the atmosphere and one couldn’t possibly entertain
-any fears under the influence of the radiant smiles
-that passed between mother and daughter, husband
-and wife, brother and sister.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as the meal was concluded the mother
-led them up to her private sitting room, and closing
-the door she stood facing them all as half breathless
-with the excitement of the moment they stood in a
-row before her:</p>
-
-<p>“My three dear children!” she murmured.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>
-Gordon’s eyes lit with joy and his heart thrilled with
-the wonder of it all. Then the mother stepped up
-to him and placing her hand on his arm led him over
-to the couch and made him sit beside her, while the
-brother and sister sat down together close by.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, Cyril, my new son,” said she, deliberately,
-her eyes resting approvingly upon his face,
-“you may tell me your story. I see my girl has lost
-both head and heart to you and I doubt if she could
-tell it connectedly.”</p>
-
-<p>And while Celia and Jeff were laughing at this
-Gordon set about his task of winning a mother, and
-incidentally an eager-eyed young brother who was
-more than half committed to his cause already.</p>
-
-<p>Celia watched proudly as her handsome husband
-took out his credentials, and began his explanation.</p>
-
-<p>“First, I must tell you who I am, and these
-papers will do it better than I could. Will you look
-at them, please?”</p>
-
-<p>He handed her a few letters and papers.</p>
-
-<p>“These papers on the top show the rank and
-position that my father and my grandfather held
-with the government and in the army. This is a
-letter from the president to my father congratulating
-him on his approaching marriage with my
-mother. That paper contains my mother’s family
-tree, and the letters with it will give you an idea of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>
-the honor in which my mother’s family was held in
-Washington and in Virginia, her old home. I know
-these matters are not of much moment, and say
-nothing whatever about what I am myself, but they
-are things you would have been likely to know about
-my family if you had known me all my life; and at
-least they will tell you that my family was respectable.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hathaway was examining the papers, and
-suddenly looked up exclaiming: “My dear! My
-father knew your grandfather. I think I saw him
-once when he came to our home in New York. It
-was years ago and I was a young girl, but I remember
-he was a fine looking man with keen dark eyes,
-and a heavy head of iron gray hair.”</p>
-
-<p>She looked at Gordon keenly.</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder if your eyes are not like his. It was
-long ago of course.”</p>
-
-<p>“They used to say I looked like him. I do not
-remember him. He died when I was very young.”</p>
-
-<p>The mother looked up with a pleasant smile.</p>
-
-<p>“Now tell me about yourself,” she said and laid
-a gentle hand on his.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon looked down, an embarrassed flush
-spreading over his face.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s nothing great to tell,” he said. “I’ve
-always tried to live a straight true life, and I’ve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>
-never been in love with any girl before—” he flashed
-a wonderful, blinding smile upon Celia.</p>
-
-<p>“I was left alone in the world when quite young
-and have lived around in boarding-schools and college.
-I’m a graduate of Harvard and I’ve travelled
-a little. There was some money left from my
-father’s estate, not much. I’m not rich. I’m a
-Secret Service man, and I love my work. I get a
-good salary and was this morning promoted to the
-position next in rank to my chief, so that now I shall
-have still more money. I shall be able to make your
-daughter comfortable and give her some of the
-luxuries, if not all, to which she has been accustomed.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear boy, that part is not what I am anxious
-about—” interrupted the mother.</p>
-
-<p>“I know,” said Gordon, “but it is a detail you
-have a right to be told. I understand that you care
-far more what I am than how much money I can
-make, and I promise you I am going to try to be all
-that you would want your daughter’s husband to be.
-Perhaps the best thing I can say for myself is that
-I love her better than my life, and I mean to make
-her happiness the dearest thing in life to me.”</p>
-
-<p>The mother’s look of deep understanding answered
-him more eloquently than words could have
-done, and after a moment she spoke again.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>“But I do not understand how you could have
-known one another and I never have heard of you.
-Celia is not good at keeping things from her mother,
-though the last three months she has had a sadness
-that I could not fathom, and was forced to lay to
-her natural dread of leaving home. She seemed so
-insistent upon having this marriage just as George
-planned it—and I was so afraid she would regret
-not waiting. How could you have known one another
-all this time and she never talked to me about
-it, and why did George Hayne have any part whatever
-in it if you two loved one another? Just how
-long have you known each other anyway? Did it
-begin when you visited in Washington last spring,
-Celia?”</p>
-
-<p>With dancing eyes Celia shook her head.</p>
-
-<p>“No, Mamma. If I had met him then I’m sure
-George Hayne would never have had anything to
-do with the matter, for Cyril would have known how
-to help me out of my difficulty.”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall have to tell you the whole story from
-my standpoint, and from the beginning,” said Gordon,
-dreading now that the crisis was upon him,
-what the outcome would be. “I have wanted you
-to know who and what I was before you knew the
-story, that you might judge me as kindly as possible,
-and know that however I may have been to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span>
-blame in the matter it was through no intention of
-mine. My story may sound rather impossible. I
-know it will seem improbable, but it is nevertheless
-true, everything that I have to tell. May I hope
-to be believed?”</p>
-
-<p>“I think you may,” answered the mother searching
-his face anxiously. “Those eyes of yours are
-not lying eyes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you,” he said simply, and then gathering
-all his courage he plunged into his story.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hathaway was watching him with searching
-interest. Jeff had drawn his chair up close and
-could scarcely restrain his excitement, and when
-Gordon told of his commission he burst forth
-explosively:</p>
-
-<p>“Gee! But that was a great stunt! I’d have
-liked to have been along with you! You must be
-simply great to be trusted with a thing like that!”</p>
-
-<p>But his mother gently reproved him:</p>
-
-<p>“Hush, my son, let us hear the story.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia sat quietly watching her husband with
-pride, two bright spots of color on her cheeks, and
-her hands clasping each other tightly. She was
-hearing many details now that were new to her.
-Once more, when Gordon mentioned the dinner at
-Holman’s Jeff interrupted with:</p>
-
-<p>“Holman! Holman! Not J. P.? Why of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>
-course—we know him! Celia was one of his
-daughter’s bridesmaids last spring! The old lynx!
-I always thought he was crooked! People hint a
-lot of things about him—”</p>
-
-<p>“Jeff, dear, let us hear the story,” again insisted
-his mother, and the story continued.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had been looking down as he talked. He
-dreaded to see their faces as the truth should dawn
-upon them, but when he had told all he lifted honest
-eyes to the white-faced mother and pleaded with her:</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, indeed, I hope you will believe me,
-that not until they laid your daughter’s hand in mine
-did I know that I was supposed to be the bridegroom.
-I thought all the time her brother was the
-bridegroom. If I had not been so distraught, and
-trying so hard to think how to escape, I suppose I
-would have noticed that I was standing next to her,
-and that everything was peculiar about the whole
-matter, but I didn’t. And then when I suddenly
-knew that she and I were being married, what should
-I have done? Do you think I ought to have stopped
-the ceremony then and there and made a scene before
-all those people? What was the right thing to do?
-Suppose my commission had been entirely out of
-the question, and I had had no duty toward the government
-to keep entirely quiet about myself, do you
-think I ought to have made a scene? Would you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>
-have wanted me to for your daughter’s sake? Tell
-me please,” he insisted, gently.</p>
-
-<p>And while she hesitated he added:</p>
-
-<p>“I did some pretty hard thinking during that
-first quarter of a second that I realized what was
-happening, and I tell you honestly I didn’t know
-what was the right thing to do. It seemed awful
-for her sake to make a scene, and to tell you the
-truth I worshipped her from the moment my eyes
-rested upon her. There was something sad and appealing
-as she looked at me that seemed to pledge
-my very life to save her from trouble. Tell me, do
-you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony then
-at the first moment of my realization that I was
-being married?”</p>
-
-<p>The mother’s face had softened as she watched
-him and listened to his tender words about Celia
-and now she answered gently:</p>
-
-<p>“I am not sure—perhaps not! It was a very
-grave question to face. I don’t know that I can
-blame you for doing nothing. It would have been
-terrible for her and us and everybody and have made
-it all so public. Oh, I think you did right not to do
-anything publicly—perhaps—and yet—it is terrible
-to me to think you have been forced to marry my
-daughter in that way.”</p>
-
-<p>“Please do not say forced,—<i>Mother</i>—” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>
-Gordon laying both hands earnestly upon hers and
-looking into her eyes, “I tell you one thing that held
-me back from doing anything was that I so earnestly
-desired that what I was passing through might be
-real and lasting. I have never seen one like her
-before. I know that if the mistake had been righted
-and she had passed out of my life I should never
-have felt the same again. I am glad, glad with all
-my heart that she is mine, and—Mother!—I think
-she is glad too!”</p>
-
-<p>The mother turned toward her daughter, and
-Celia with starry eyes came and knelt before them,
-and laid her hands in the hands of her husband, saying
-with ringing voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, dear little Mother, I am gladder than I
-ever was before in my life.”</p>
-
-<p>And kneeling thus, with her husband’s arm about
-her, her face against his shoulder, and both her hands
-clasped in his, she told her mother about the tortures
-that George Hayne had put her through, until
-the mother turned white with horror at what her
-beloved and cherished child had been enduring, and
-the brother got up and stormed across the floor,
-vowing vengeance on the luckless head of poor
-George Hayne.</p>
-
-<p>Then after the mother had given her blessing to
-the two, and Jeff had added an original one of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>
-own, there was the whole story of the eventful wedding
-trip to tell, which they both told by solos and
-choruses until the hour grew alarmingly late and
-the mother suddenly sent them all off to bed.</p>
-
-<p>The next few days were both busy and happy
-ones for the two. They went to the hospital and
-gladdened the life of the little newsboy with fruit
-and toys and many promises; and they brought home
-a happy white dog from his boarding place whom
-Jeff adopted as his own. Gordon had a trying hour
-or two at court with his one-time host, the scoundrel
-who had stolen the cipher message; and the thick-set
-man glared at him from a cell window as he passed
-along the corridor of the prison whither he had gone
-in search of George Hayne.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon in his search for the lost bridegroom,
-whom for many reasons he desired to find as soon as
-possible, had asked the help of one of the men at
-work on the Holman case, in searching for a certain
-George Hayne who needed very much to be brought
-to justice.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you won’t have to search for him,” declared
-the man with a smile. “He’s safely landed
-in prison three days ago. He was caught as neatly
-as rolling off a log by the son of the man whose
-name he forged several years ago. It was trust
-money of a big corporation and the man died in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>
-place in a prison cell, but the son means to see the
-real culprit punished.”</p>
-
-<p>And so Gordon, in the capacity of Celia’s lawyer,
-went to the prison to talk with George Hayne, and
-that miserable man found no excuse for his sins
-when the searching talk was over. Gordon did not
-let the man know who he was, and merely made it
-understood that Celia was married, and that if he
-attempted to make her any further trouble the whole
-thing would be exposed and he would have to answer
-a grave charge of blackmail.</p>
-
-<p>The days passed rapidly, and at last the New
-York matter for which Gordon’s presence was
-needed was finished, and he was free to sail away
-with his bride. On the morning of their departure
-Gordon’s voice rang out over the miles of telephone
-wires to his old chief in Washington: “I am married
-and am just starting on my wedding trip. Don’t
-you want to congratulate me?” And the old chief’s
-gruff voice sounded back:</p>
-
-<p>“Good work, old man! Congratulations for
-you both. She may or may not be the best girl in
-all the world; I haven’t had a chance to see yet; but
-she’s a lucky girl, for she’s got <i>the best man I know</i>.
-Tell her that for me! Bless you both! I’m glad
-she’s going with you. It won’t be so lonesome.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon gave her the message that afternoon as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>
-they sailed straight into the sunshine of a new and
-beautiful life together.</p>
-
-<p>“Dear,” he said, as he arranged her steamer
-rug more comfortably about her, “has it occurred
-to you that you are probably the only bride who ever
-married the best man at her wedding?”</p>
-
-<p>Celia smiled appreciatively and after a minute
-replied mischievously:</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose every bride <i>thinks</i> her husband is the
-best man.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<div class="transnote">
-<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p>
-
-<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
-
-<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
-
-<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p>
-</div></div>
-
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The best man, by Grace Livingston Hill
-Lutz
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: The best man
-
-Author: Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
-
-Illustrator: Gayle Hoskins
-
-Release Date: December 9, 2022 [eBook #69514]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Steve Mattern, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed
- Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
- produced from images generously made available by The
- Internet Archive)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST MAN ***
-
-
-[Illustration: Before she could reply, the express train roared above
-them
- _Page 151_]
-
-
-
-
- THE BEST MAN
-
- BY
- GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ
-
- AUTHOR OF
- VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, ETC.
-
- FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR BY
- GAYLE HOSKINS
-
- [Illustration]
-
- GROSSET & DUNLAP
- PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
-
- Made in the United States of America
-
-
-
-
- COPYRIGHT, 1913. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
- COPYRIGHT, 1914. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
-
- PUBLISHED JANUARY, 1914
-
-
-
-
- The Best Man
-
- SIXTH EDITION
-
-
-
-
-THE BEST MAN
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-
-Cyril Gordon had been seated at his desk but ten minutes and was deep
-in the morning’s mail when there came an urgent message from his chief,
-summoning him to an immediate audience in the inner office.
-
-The chief had keen blue eyes and shaggy eyebrows. He never wasted
-words; yet those words when spoken had more weight than those of most
-other men in Washington.
-
-There was the briefest of good-morning gleams in his nod and glance,
-but he only said:
-
-“Gordon, can you take the Pennsylvania train for New York that leaves
-the station in thirty-two minutes?”
-
-The young man was used to abrupt questions from his chief, but he
-caught his breath, mentally surveying his day as it had been planned:
-
-“Why, sir, I suppose I could--if it is necessary----” He hesitated.
-
-“It is necessary,” said the chief curtly, as if that settled the
-matter.
-
-“But--half an hour!” ejaculated Gordon in dismay. “I could hardly get
-to my rooms and back to the station. I don’t see how---- Isn’t there a
-train a little later?”
-
-“Later train won’t do. Call up your man on the ’phone. Tell him to pack
-your bag and meet you at the station in twenty minutes. You’ll need
-evening clothes. Can you depend on your man to get your things quickly
-without fail?”
-
-There was that in the tone of the chief that caused Gordon to make no
-further demur.
-
-“Sure!” he responded with his usual business-like tone, as he strode to
-the ’phone. His daze was passing off. “Evening clothes?” he questioned
-curiously, as if he might not have heard aright.
-
-“Yes, evening clothes,” was the curt answer, “and everything you’ll
-need for daytime for a respectable gentleman of leisure--a tourist, you
-understand.”
-
-Gordon perceived that he was being given a mission of trust and
-importance, not unmixed with mystery perhaps. He was new in the secret
-service, and it had been his ambition to rise in his chief’s good
-graces. He rang the telephone bell furiously and called up the number
-of his own apartments, giving his man orders in a breezy, decisive tone
-that caused a look of satisfaction to settle about the fine wrinkles
-of the chief’s eyes.
-
-Gordon’s watch was out and he was telling his man on just what car he
-must leave the apartments for the station. The chief noted it was two
-cars ahead of what would have been necessary. His gray head gave an
-almost imperceptible nod of commendation, and his eyes showed that he
-was content with his selection of a man.
-
-“Now, sir,” said Gordon, as he hung up the receiver, “I’m ready for
-orders.”
-
-“Well, you are to go to New York, and take a cab for the Cosmopolis
-Hotel--your room there is already secured by wire. Your name is John
-Burnham. The name of the hotel and the number of your room are on
-this memorandum. You will find awaiting you an invitation to dine
-this evening with a Mr. Holman, who knows of you as an expert in
-code-reading. Our men met him on the train an hour ago and arranged
-that he should invite you. He didn’t know whom they represented, of
-course. He has already tried to ’phone you at the hotel about coming to
-dinner to-night. He knows you are expected there before evening. Here
-is a letter of introduction to him from a man he knows. Our men got
-that also. It is genuine, of course.
-
-“Last night a message of national importance, written in cipher, was
-stolen from one of our men before it had been read. This is now in the
-hands of Holman, who is hoping to have you decipher it for him and a
-few guests who will also be present at dinner. They wish to use it for
-their own purposes. Your commission is to get hold of the message and
-bring it to us as soon as possible. Another message of very different
-import, written upon the same kind of paper, is in this envelope,
-with a translation for you to use in case you have to substitute a
-message. You will have to use your own wits and judgment. The main
-thing is, _get the paper_, and _get back with it_, with as little
-delay as possible. Undoubtedly your life will be in danger should it
-be discovered that you have made off with it. Spare no care to protect
-yourself _and the message_, at all hazards. Remember, I said, _and the
-message_, young man! It means much to the country.
-
-“In this envelope is money--all you will probably need. Telegraph or
-’phone to this address if you are in trouble. Draw on us for more, if
-necessary, also through this same address. Here is the code you can
-use in case you find it necessary to telegraph. Your ticket is already
-bought. I have sent Clarkson to the station for it, and he will meet
-you at the train. You can give him instructions in case you find you
-have forgotten anything. Take your mail with you, and telegraph back
-orders to your stenographer. I think that is all. Oh, yes, to-night,
-while you are at dinner, you will be called to the ’phone by one of
-our men. If you are in trouble, this may give you opportunity to
-get away, and put us wise. You will find a motor at the door now,
-waiting to take you to the station. If your man doesn’t get there
-with your things, take the train, anyway, and buy some more when you
-get to New York. Don’t turn aside from your commission for anything.
-Don’t let _anything_ hinder you! Make it a matter of life and death!
-Good-morning, and good luck!”
-
-The chief held out a big, hairy hand that was surprisingly warm and
-soft considering the hardness of his face and voice, and the young man
-grasped it, feeling as if he were suddenly being plunged into waves of
-an unknown depth and he would fain hold on to this strong hand.
-
-He went out of the office quietly enough, and the keen old eyes watched
-him knowingly, understanding the beating of the heart under Gordon’s
-well-fitting business coat, the mingled elation and dread over the
-commission. But there had been no hesitancy, no question of acceptance,
-when the nature of the commission was made known. The young man was
-“game.” He would do. Not even an eyelash had flickered at the hint
-of danger. The chief felt he would be faithful even in the face of
-possible death.
-
-Gordon’s man came rushing into the station just after he reached there
-himself. Clarkson was already there with the ticket. Gordon had time to
-scribble a message to Julia Bentley, whose perfumed scrawl he had read
-on the way down. Julia had bidden him to her presence that evening. He
-could not tell whether he was relieved or sorry to tell her he could
-not come. It began to look to him a good deal as if he would ask Julia
-Bentley to marry him some day, when she got tired of playing all the
-others off against him, and he could make up his mind to surrender his
-freedom to any woman.
-
-He bought a paper and settled himself comfortably in the parlor-car,
-but his interest was not in the paper. His strange commission engaged
-all his thoughts. He took out the envelope containing instructions and
-went over the matter, looking curiously at the cipher message and its
-translation, which, however, told him nothing. It was the old chief’s
-way to keep the business to himself until such time as he chose to
-explain. Doubtless it was safer for both message and messenger that he
-did not know the full import of what he was undertaking.
-
-Gordon carefully noted down everything that his chief had told him,
-comparing it with the written instructions in the envelope; arranged
-in his mind just how he would proceed when he reached New York; tried
-to think out a good plan for recovering the stolen message, but could
-not; and so decided to trust to the inspiration of the moment. Then it
-occurred to him to clear his overcoat pockets of any letters or other
-tell-tale articles and stow them in his suit-case. He might have to
-leave his overcoat behind him. So it would be well to have no clues for
-anyone to follow.
-
-Having arranged these matters, and prepared a few letters with notes
-for his stenographer, to be mailed back to her from Philadelphia, he
-reread Julia Bentley’s note. When every angular line of her tall script
-was imprinted on his memory, he tore the perfumed note into tiny pieces
-and dropped them from the car window.
-
-The question was, did he or did he not want to ask Julia Bentley to
-become his wife? He had no doubt as to what her answer would be. Julia
-had made it pretty plain to him that she would rather have him than any
-of her other admirers; though she did like to keep them all attendant
-upon her. Well, that was her right so long as she was unmarried. He had
-no fault to find with her. She was a fine girl, and everybody liked
-her. Also, she was of a good family, and with a modest fortune in her
-own right. Everybody was taking it for granted that they liked each
-other. It was time he was married and had a real home, he supposed,
-whatever that was--that seemed to have so great a charm for all his
-friends. To his eyes, it had as yet taken on no alluring mirage effect.
-He had never known a real home, more than his quiet bachelor apartments
-were to him now, where his man ordered everything as he was told,
-and the meals were sent up when wanted. He had money enough from his
-inheritance to make things more than comfortable, and he was deeply
-interested in the profession he had chosen.
-
-Still, if he was ever going to marry, it was high time, of course. But
-did he want Julia? He could not quite make it seem pleasant to think of
-her in his rooms when he came home at night tired; she would always be
-wanting to go to her endless theatre parties and receptions and dances;
-always be demanding his attention. She was bright and handsome and well
-dressed, but he had never made love to her. He could not quite imagine
-himself doing so. How did men make love, anyway? Could one call it love
-when it was “made” love? These questions followed one another idly
-through his brain as the landscape whirled past him. If he had stayed
-at home, he would have spent the evening with Julia, as she requested
-in her note, and there would probably have been a quiet half-hour after
-other callers had gone when he would have stayed as he had been doing
-of late, and tried to find out whether he really cared for her or not.
-
-Suppose, for instance, they were married, and she sat beside him now.
-Would any glad thrill fill his heart as he looked at her beautiful face
-and realized that she was his? He tried to look over toward the next
-chair and imagine that the tired, fat old lady with the double chin and
-the youthful purple hat was Julia, but that would not work. He whirled
-his chair about and tried it on an empty chair. That went better; but
-still no thrill of joy lifted him out of his sordid self. He could not
-help thinking about little trying details. The way Julia looked when
-she was vexed. Did one mind that in the woman one loved? The way she
-ordered her coachman about. Would she ever speak so to her husband? She
-had a charming smile, but her frown was--well--unbecoming to say the
-least.
-
-He tried to keep up the fallacy of her presence. He bought a magazine
-that he knew she liked, and read a story to her (in imagination). He
-could easily tell how her black eyes would snap at certain phrases she
-disliked. He knew just what her comment would be upon the heroine’s
-conduct. It was an old disputed point between them. He knew how she
-would criticize the hero, and somehow he felt himself in the hero’s
-place every time she did it. The story had not been a success, and he
-felt a weariness as he laid the magazine aside at the call for dinner
-from the dining-car.
-
-Before he had finished his luncheon he had begun to feel that though
-Julia might think now that she would like to marry him, the truth
-about it was that she would not enjoy the actual life together any
-better than he would. Were all marriages like that? Did people lose
-the glamour and just settle down to endure each other’s faults and
-make the most of each other’s pleasant side, and not have anything
-more? Or was he getting cynical? Had he lived alone too long, as his
-friends sometimes told him, and so was losing the ability really to
-love anybody but himself? He knit his brows, and got up whistling to go
-out and see why the train had stopped so long in this little country
-settlement.
-
-It was just beyond Princeton, and they were not far now from New York.
-It would be most annoying to be delayed so near to his destination. He
-was anxious to get things in train for his evening of hard work. It
-was necessary to find out how the land lay as soon as possible.
-
-It appeared that there was a wrecked freight ahead of them, and there
-would be delay. No one knew just how long; it would depend on how soon
-the wrecking train arrived to help.
-
-Gordon walked nervously up and down the grass at the side of the track,
-looking anxiously each way for sign of the wrecking train. The thought
-of Julia did occur to him, but he put it impatiently away, for he knew
-just how poorly Julia would bear a delay on a journey even in his
-company. He had been with her once when the engine got off the track
-on a short trip down to a Virginia house-party, and she was the most
-impatient creature alive, although it mattered not one whit to any of
-the rest of the party whether they made merry on the train or at their
-friend’s house. And yet, if Julia were anything at all to him, would
-not he like the thought of her companionship now?
-
-A great white dog hobbled up to him and fawned upon him as he turned
-to go back to the train, and he laid his hand kindly upon the animal’s
-head, and noted the wistful eyes upon his face. He was a noble dog, and
-Gordon stood for a moment fondling him. Then he turned impatiently and
-tramped back to his car again. But when he reached the steps he found
-that the dog had followed him.
-
-Gordon frowned, half in annoyance, half in amusement, and sitting down
-on a log by the wayside he took the dog’s pink nozzle into his hands,
-caressing the white fur above it gently.
-
-The dog whined happily, and Gordon meditated. How long would the train
-wait? Would he miss getting to New York in time for the dinner? Would
-he miss the chance to rise in his chief’s good graces? The chief would
-expect him to get to New York some other way if the train were delayed.
-How long ought he to wait on possibilities?
-
-All at once he saw the conductor and trainmen coming back hurriedly.
-Evidently the train was about to start. With a final kindly stroke of
-the white head, he called a workman nearby, handed him half a dollar to
-hold the dog, and sprang on board.
-
-He had scarcely settled himself into his chair, however, before the
-dog came rushing up the aisle from the other end of the car, and
-precipitated himself muddily and noisily upon him.
-
-With haste and perturbation Gordon hurried the dog to the door and
-tried to fling him off, but the poor creature pulled back and clung to
-the platform yelping piteously.
-
-Just then the conductor came from the other car and looked at him
-curiously.
-
-“No dogs allowed in these cars,” he said gruffly.
-
-“Well, if you know how to enforce that rule I wish you would,” said
-Gordon. “I’m sure I don’t know what to do with him.”
-
-“Where has he been since you left Washington?” asked the grim conductor
-with suspicion in his eyes.
-
-“I certainly haven’t had him secreted about me, a dog of that size,”
-remarked the young man dryly. “Besides, he isn’t my dog. I never saw
-him before till he followed me at the station. I’m as anxious to be rid
-of him as he is to stay.”
-
-The conductor eyed the young man keenly, and then allowed a grim sense
-of humor to appear in one corner of his mouth.
-
-“Got a chain or a rope for him?” he asked more sympathetically.
-
-“Well, no,” remarked the unhappy attaché of the dog. “Not having had an
-appointment with the dog I didn’t provide myself with a leash for him.”
-
-“Take him into the baggage-car,” said the conductor briefly, and
-slammed his way into the next car.
-
-There seemed nothing else to be done, but it was most annoying to
-be thus forced on the notice of his fellow-travellers, when his
-commission required that he be as inconspicuous as possible.
-
-At Jersey City he hoped to escape and leave the dog to the tender
-mercies of the baggage man, but that official was craftily waiting
-for him and handed the animal over to his unwilling master with a
-satisfaction ill-proportioned to the fee he had received for caring for
-him.
-
-Then began a series of misfortunes. Disappointment and suspicion
-stalked beside him, and behind him a voice continually whispered his
-chief’s last injunction: “Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-
-Frantically he tried first one place and then another, but all to no
-effect. Nobody apparently wanted to care for a stray white dog, and
-his very haste aroused suspicion. Once he came near being arrested as
-a dog thief. He could not get rid of that dog! Yet he must not let him
-follow him! Would he have to have the animal sent home to Washington as
-the only solution of the problem? Then a queer fancy seized him that
-just in some such way had Miss Julia Bentley been shadowing his days
-for nearly three years now; and he had actually this very day been
-considering calmly whether he might not have to marry her, just because
-she was so persistent in her taking possession of him. Not that she was
-unladylike, of course; no, indeed! She was stately and beautiful, and
-had never offended. But she had always quietly, persistently, taken it
-for granted that he would be her attendant whenever she chose; and she
-always chose whenever he was in the least inclined to enjoy any other
-woman’s company.
-
-He frowned at himself. Was there something weak about his character
-that a woman or a dog could so easily master him? Would any other
-employee in the office, once trusted with his great commission, have
-allowed it to be hindered by a dog?
-
-Gordon could not afford to waste any more time. He must get rid of him
-at once!
-
-The express office would not take a dog without a collar and chain
-unless he was crated; and the delays and exasperating hindrances seemed
-to be interminable. But at last, following the advice of a kindly
-officer, he took the dog to an institution in New York where, he was
-told, dogs were boarded and cared for, and where he finally disposed
-of him, having first paid ten dollars for the privilege. As he settled
-back in a taxicab with his watch in his hand, he congratulated himself
-that he had still ample time to reach his hotel and get into evening
-dress before he must present himself for his work.
-
-Within three blocks of the hotel the cab came to such a sudden
-standstill that Gordon was thrown to his knees.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-
-They were surrounded immediately by a crowd in which policemen were
-a prominent feature. The chauffeur seemed dazed in the hands of the
-officers.
-
-A little, barefoot, white-faced figure huddled limply in the midst
-showed Gordon what had happened: also there were menacing glances
-towards himself and a show of lifted stones. He heard one boy say: “You
-bet he’s in a hurry to git away. Them kind allus is. They don’t care
-who they kills, they don’t!”
-
-A great horror seized him. The cab had run over a newsboy and perhaps
-killed him. Yet instantly came the remembrance of his commission:
-“Don’t let anything hinder you. Make it a matter of life and death!”
-Well, it looked as if this was a matter of death that hindered him now.
-
-They bundled the moaning boy into the taxicab and as Gordon saw no
-escape through the tightly packed crowd, who eyed him suspiciously, he
-climbed in beside the grimy little scrap of unconscious humanity, and
-they were off to the hospital to the tune of “Don’t let anything hinder
-you! Don’t let anything hinder you!” until Gordon felt that if it did
-not stop soon he would go crazy. He meditated opening the cab door and
-making his escape in spite of the speed they were making, but a vision
-of broken legs and a bed in the hospital for himself held him to his
-seat. One of the policemen had climbed on in front with the chauffeur,
-and now and again he glanced back as if he were conveying a couple of
-prisoners to jail. It was vexatious beyond anything! And all on account
-of that white dog! Could anything be more ridiculous than the whole
-performance?
-
-His annoyance and irritation almost made him forget that it was his
-progress through the streets that had silenced this mite beside him.
-But just as he looked at his watch for the fifth time the boy opened
-his eyes and moaned, and there was in those eyes a striking resemblance
-to the look in the eyes of the dog of whose presence he had but just
-rid himself.
-
-Gordon started. In spite of himself it seemed as if the dog were
-reproaching him through the eyes of the child. Then suddenly the boy
-spoke.
-
-“Will yous stay by me till I’m mended?” whispered the weak little voice.
-
-Gordon’s heart leaped in horror again, and it came to him that he
-was being tried out this day to see if he had the right stuff in him
-for hard tasks. The appeal in the little street-boy’s eyes reached
-him as no request had ever yet done, and yet he might not answer it.
-Duty,--life and death duty,--called him elsewhere, and he must leave
-the little fellow whom he had been the involuntary cause of injuring,
-to suffer and perhaps to die. It cut him to the quick not to respond to
-that urgent appeal.
-
-Was it because he was weary that he was visited just then by a vision
-of Julia Bentley with her handsome lips curled scornfully? Julia
-Bentley would not have approved of his stopping to carry a boy to the
-hospital, any more than to care for a dog’s comfort.
-
-“Look here, kiddie,” he said gently, leaning over the child, “I’d stay
-by you if I could, but I’ve already made myself late for an appointment
-by coming so far with you. Do you know what Duty is?”
-
-The child nodded sorrowfully.
-
-“Don’t yous mind me,” he murmured weakly. “Just yous go. I’m game all
-right.” Then the voice trailed off into silence again, and the eyelids
-fluttered down upon the little, grimy, unconscious face.
-
-Gordon went into the hospital for a brief moment to leave some money in
-the hands of the authorities for the benefit of the boy, and a message
-that he would return in a week or two if possible; then hurried away.
-
-Back in the cab once more, he felt as if he had killed a man and left
-him lying by the roadside while he continued his unswerving march
-toward the hideous duty which was growing momently more portentous, and
-to be relieved of which he would gladly have surrendered further hope
-of his chief’s favor. He closed his eyes and tried to think, but all
-the time the little white face of the child came before his vision,
-and the mocking eyes of Julia Bentley tantalized him, as if she were
-telling him that he had spoiled all his chances--and hers--by his
-foolish soft-heartedness. Though, what else could he have done than he
-had done, he asked himself fiercely.
-
-He looked at his watch. It was at least ten minutes’ ride to the
-hotel, the best time they could make. Thanks to his man the process of
-dressing for evening would not take long, for he knew that everything
-would be in place and he would not be hindered. He would make short
-work of his toilet. But there was his suit-case. It would not do to
-leave it at the hotel, neither must he take it with him to the house
-where he was to be a guest. There was nothing for it but to go around
-by the way of the station where it would have to be checked. That meant
-a longer ride and more delay, but it must be done.
-
-Arrived at the hotel at last and in the act of signing the unaccustomed
-“John Burnham” in the hotel registry, there came a call to the
-telephone.
-
-With a hand that trembled from excitement he took the receiver. His
-breath went from him as though he had just run up five flights of
-stairs. “Yes? Hello! Oh, Mrs. Holman. Yes! Burnham. I’ve but just
-arrived. I was delayed. A wreck ahead of the train. Very kind of you to
-invite me, I’m sure. Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments, as soon as I
-can get rid of the dust of travel. Thank you. Good-by.”
-
-It all sounded very commonplace to the clerk, who was making out bills
-and fretting because he could not get off to take his girl to the
-theatre that night, but as Gordon hung up the receiver he looked around
-furtively as if expecting to see a dozen detectives ready to seize upon
-him. It was the first time he had ever undertaken a commission under an
-assumed name and he felt as if he were shouting his commission through
-the streets of New York.
-
-The young man made short work of his toilet. Just as he was leaving the
-hotel a telegram was handed him. It was from his chief, and so worded
-that to the operator who had copied it down it read like a hasty call
-to Boston; but to his code-enlightened eyes it was merely a blind to
-cover his exit from the hotel and from New York, and set any possible
-hunters on a wrong scent. He marvelled at the wonderful mind of his
-chief, who thought out every detail of an important campaign, and
-forgot not one little possible point where difficulty might arise.
-
-Gordon had a nervous feeling as he again stepped into a taxicab and
-gave his order. He wondered how many stray dogs, and newsboys with
-broken legs, would attach themselves to him on the way to dinner.
-Whenever the speed slowed down, or they were halted by cars and autos,
-his heart pounded painfully, lest something new had happened, but he
-arrived safely and swiftly at the station, checked his suit-case,
-and took another cab to the residence of Mr. Holman, without further
-incident.
-
-The company were waiting for him, and after the introductions they went
-immediately to the dining-room. Gordon took his seat with the feeling
-that he had bungled everything hopelessly, and had arrived so late
-that there was no possible hope of his doing what he had been sent
-to do. For the first few minutes his thoughts were a jumble, and his
-eyes dazed with the brilliant lights of the room. He could not single
-out the faces of the people present and differentiate them one from
-another. His heart beat painfully against the stiff expanse of evening
-linen. It almost seemed as if those near him could hear it. He found
-himself starting and stammering when he was addressed as “Mr. Burnham.”
-His thoughts were mingled with white dogs, newsboys, and ladies with
-scornful smiles.
-
-He was seated on the right of his hostess, and gradually her gentle
-manners gave him quietness. He began to gain control of himself, and
-now he seemed to see afar the keen eye of his chief watching the
-testing of his new commissioner. His heart swelled to meet the demand
-made upon him. A strong purpose came to him to rise above all obstacles
-and conquer in spite of circumstances. He must forget everything else
-and rise to the occasion.
-
-From that moment the dancing lights that multiplied themselves in the
-glittering silver and cut glass of the table began to settle into
-order; and slowly, one by one, the conglomeration of faces around the
-board resolved itself into individuals.
-
-There was the pretty, pale hostess, whose gentle ways seemed
-hardly to fit with her large, boisterous, though polished husband.
-Unscrupulousness was written all over his ruddy features, also a
-certain unhidden craftiness which passed for geniality among his kind.
-
-There were two others with faces full of cunning, both men of wealth
-and culture. One did not think of the word “refinement” in connection
-with them; still, that might be conceded also; but it was all
-dominated by the cunning that on this occasion, at least, was allowed
-to sit unmasked upon their countenances. They had outwitted an enemy,
-and they were openly exultant.
-
-Of the other guests, one was very young and sleek, with eyes that had
-early learned to evade; one was old and weary-looking, with a hunted
-expression; one was thick-set, with little eyes set close in a fat,
-selfish face. Gordon began to understand that these three but did the
-bidding of the others. They listened to the conversation merely from a
-business standpoint and not with any personal interest. They were there
-because they were needed, and not because they were desired.
-
-There was one bond which they seemed to hold in common: an alert
-readiness to combine for their mutual safety. This did not manifest
-itself in anything tangible, but the guest felt that it was there and
-ready to spring upon him at any instant.
-
-All this came gradually to the young man as the meal with its pleasant
-formalities began. As yet nothing had been said about the reason for
-his being there.
-
-“Did you tell me you were in a wreck?” suddenly asked the hostess
-sweetly, turning to him, and the table talk hushed instantly while the
-host asked: “A wreck! Was it serious?”
-
-Gordon perceived his mistake at once. With instant caution, he replied
-smilingly, “Oh, nothing serious, a little break-down on a freight
-ahead, which required time to patch up. It reminded me----” and then he
-launched boldly into one of the bright dinner stories for which he was
-noted among his companions at home. His heart was beating wildly, but
-he succeeded in turning the attention of the table to his joke, instead
-of to asking from where he had come and on what road. Questions about
-himself were dangerous he plainly saw, if he would get possession of
-the valued paper and get away without leaving a trail behind him. He
-succeeded in one thing more, which, though he did not know it, was the
-very thing his chief had hoped he would do when he chose him instead
-of a man who had wider experience; he made every man at the table feel
-that he was delightful, a man to be thoroughly trusted and enjoyed; who
-would never suspect them of having any ulterior motives in anything
-they were doing.
-
-The conversation for a little time rippled with bright stories and
-repartee, and Gordon began to feel almost as if he were merely enjoying
-a social dinner at home, with Julia Bentley down the table listening
-and haughtily smiling her approval. For the time the incidents of
-the dog and the newsboy were forgotten, and the young man felt his
-self-respect rising. His heart was beginning to get into normal action
-again and he could control his thoughts. Then suddenly, the crisis
-arrived.
-
-The soup and fish courses had been disposed of, and the table was being
-prepared for the entrée. The host leaned back genially in his chair
-and said, “By the way, Mr. Burnham, did you know I had an axe to grind
-in asking you here this evening? That sounds inhospitable, doesn’t
-it? But I’m sure we’re all grateful to the axe that has given us the
-opportunity of meeting you. We are delighted at having discovered you.”
-
-Gordon bowed, smiling at the compliment, and the murmurs of hearty
-assent around the table showed him that he had begun well. If only he
-could keep it up! But how, _how_, was he to get possession of that
-magic bit of paper and take it away with him?
-
-“Mr. Burnham, I was delighted to learn through a friend that you are an
-expert in code-reading. I wonder, did the message that my friend Mr.
-Burns sent you this morning give you any intimation that I wanted you
-to do me a favor?”
-
-Gordon bowed again. “Yes: it was intimated to me that you had some
-message you would like deciphered, and I have also a letter of
-introduction from Mr. Burns.”
-
-Here Gordon took the letter of introduction from his pocket and handed
-it across the table to his host, who opened it genially, as if it were
-hardly necessary to read what was written within since they already
-knew so delightfully the man whom it introduced. The duplicate cipher
-writing in Gordon’s pocket crackled knowingly when he settled his coat
-about him again, as if it would say, “My time is coming! It is almost
-here now.”
-
-The young man wondered how he was to get it out without being seen, in
-case he should want to use it, but he smiled pleasantly at his host
-with no sign of the perturbation he was feeling.
-
-“You see,” went on Mr. Holman, “we have an important message which we
-cannot read, and our expert who understands all these matters is out of
-town and cannot return for some time. It is necessary that we know as
-soon as possible the import of this writing.”
-
-While he was speaking Mr. Holman drew from his pocket a long, soft
-leather wallet and took therefrom a folded paper which Gordon at once
-recognized as the duplicate of the one he carried in his pocket.
-His head seemed to reel, and all the lights go dark before him as
-he reached a cold hand out for the paper. He saw in it his own
-advancement coming to his eager grasp, yet when he got it would he be
-able to hold it? Something of the coolness of a man facing a terrible
-danger came to him now. By sheer force of will he held his trembling
-fingers steady as he took the bit of paper and opened it carelessly, as
-if he had never heard of it before, saying as he did so:
-
-“I will do my best.”
-
-There was a sudden silence as every eye was fixed upon him while he
-unfolded the paper. He gave one swift glance about the table before he
-dropped his eyes to the task. Every face held the intensity of almost
-terrible eagerness, and on every one but that of the gentle hostess sat
-cunning--craft that would stop at nothing to serve its own ends. It was
-a moment of almost awful import.
-
-The next instant Gordon’s glance went down to the paper in his hand,
-and his brain and heart were seized in the grip of fright. There was no
-other word to describe his feeling. The message before him was clearly
-written in the code of the home office, and the words stared at him
-plainly without the necessity of study. The import of them was the
-revelation of one of the most momentous questions that had to do with
-the Secret Service work, a question the answer to which had puzzled the
-entire department for weeks. That answer he now held in his hand, and
-he knew that if it should come to the knowledge of those outside before
-it had done its work through the department it would result in dire
-calamity to the cause of righteousness in the country, and incidentally
-crush the inefficient messenger who allowed it to become known. For the
-instant Gordon felt unequal to the task before him. How could he keep
-these bloodhounds at bay--for such they were, he perceived from the
-import of the message, bloodhounds who were getting ill-gotten gains
-from innocent and unsuspecting victims--some of them little children.
-
-But the old chief had picked his man well. Only for an instant the
-glittering lights darkened before his eyes and the cold perspiration
-started. Then he rallied his forces and looked up. The welfare of a
-nation’s honor was in his hands, and he would be true. It was a matter
-of life and death, and he would save it or lose his own life if need be.
-
-He summoned his ready smile.
-
-“I shall be glad to serve you if I can,” he said. “Of course I’d like
-to look this over a few minutes before attempting to read it. Codes are
-different, you know, from one another, but there is a key to them all
-if one can just find it out. This looks as if it might be very simple.”
-
-The spell of breathlessness was broken. The guests relaxed and went on
-with their dinner.
-
-Gordon, meanwhile, tried coolly to keep up a pretense of eating, the
-paper held in one hand while he seemed to be studying it. Once he
-turned it over and looked on the back. There was a large cross-mark
-in red ink at the upper end. He looked at it curiously and then
-instinctively at his host.
-
-“That is my own mark,” said Mr. Holman. “I put it there to distinguish
-it from other papers.” He was smiling politely, but he might as well
-have said, “I put it there to identify it in case of theft;” for every
-one at the table, unless it might be his wife, understood that that was
-what he meant. Gordon felt it and was conscious of the other paper in
-his vest-pocket. The way was going to be most difficult.
-
-Among the articles in the envelope which the chief had given him before
-his departure from Washington were a pair of shell-rimmed eye-glasses,
-a false mustache, a goatee, and a pair of eyebrows. He had laughed
-at the suggestion of high-tragedy contained in the disguise, but had
-brought them with him for a possible emergency. The eye-glasses were
-tucked into the vest-pocket beside the duplicate paper. He bethought
-himself of them now. Could he, under cover of taking them out, manage
-to exchange the papers? And if he should, how about that red-ink
-mark across the back? Would anyone notice its absence? It was well to
-exchange the papers as soon as possible before the writing had been
-studied by those at the table, for he knew that the other message,
-though resembling this one in general words, differed enough to attract
-the attention of a close observer. Dared he risk their noticing the
-absence of the red cross on the back?
-
-Slowly, cautiously, under cover of the conversation, he managed to get
-that duplicate paper out of his pocket and under the napkin in his lap.
-This he did with one hand, all the time ostentatiously holding the code
-message in the other hand, with its back to the people at the table.
-This hand meanwhile also held his coat lapel out that he might the more
-easily search his vest-pockets for the glasses. It all looked natural.
-The hostess was engaged in a whispered conversation with the maid at
-the moment. The host and other guests were finishing the exceedingly
-delicious patties on their plates, and the precious code message
-was safely in evidence, red cross and all. They saw no reason to be
-suspicious about the stranger’s hunt for his glasses.
-
-“Oh, here they are!” he said, quite unconcernedly, and put on the
-glasses to look more closely at the paper, spreading it smoothly on the
-table cloth before him, and wondering how he should get it into his
-lap in place of the one that now lay quietly under his napkin.
-
-The host and the guests politely refrained from talking to Gordon and
-told each other incidents of the day in low tones that indicated the
-non-importance of what they were saying; while they waited for the real
-business of the hour.
-
-Then the butler removed the plates, pausing beside Gordon waiting
-punctiliously with his silver tray to brush away the crumbs.
-
-This was just what Gordon waited for. It had come to him as the only
-way. Courteously he drew aside, lifting the paper from the table and
-putting it in his lap, for just the instant while the butler did his
-work; but in that instant the paper with the red cross was slipped
-under the napkin, and the other paper took its place upon the table,
-back down so that its lack of a red cross could not be noted.
-
-So far, so good, but how long could this be kept up? And the paper
-under the napkin--how was it to be got into his pocket? His hands were
-like ice now, and his brain seemed to be at boiling heat as he sat back
-and realized that the deed was done, and could not be undone. If anyone
-should pick up that paper from the table and discover the lack of the
-red mark, it would be all up with him. He looked up for an instant
-to meet the gaze of the six men upon him. They had nothing better to
-do now than to look at him until the next course arrived. He realized
-that not one of them would have mercy upon him if they knew what he had
-done, not one unless it might be the tired, old-looking one, and he
-would not dare interfere.
-
-Still Gordon was enabled to smile, and to say some pleasant nothings
-to his hostess when she passed him the salted almonds. His hand lay
-carelessly guarding the secret of the paper on the table, innocently,
-as though it just _happened_ that he laid it on the paper.
-
-Sitting thus with the real paper in his lap under his large damask
-napkin, the false paper under his hand on the table where he from
-time to time perused it, and his eye-glasses which made him look most
-distinguished still on his nose, he heard the distant telephone bell
-ring.
-
-He remembered the words of his chief and sat rigid. From his position
-he could see the tall clock in the hall, and its gilded hands pointed
-to ten minutes before seven. It was about the time his chief had said
-he would be called on the telephone. What should he do with the two
-papers?
-
-He had but an instant to think until the well-trained butler returned
-and announced that some one wished to speak with Mr. Burnham on the
-telephone. His resolve was taken. He would have to leave the substitute
-paper on the table. To carry it away with him might arouse suspicion,
-and, moreover, he could not easily manage both without being noticed.
-The real paper must be put safely away at all hazards, and he must take
-the chance that the absence of the red mark would remain unnoticed
-until his return.
-
-Deliberately he laid a heavy silver spoon across one edge of the paper
-on the table, and an icecream fork across the other, as if to hold it
-in place until his return. Then, rising with apologies, he gathered
-his napkin, paper, and all in his hand, holding it against his coat
-most naturally, as if he had forgotten that he had it, and made his
-way into the front hall, where in an alcove was the telephone. As he
-passed the hat-rack he swept his coat and hat off with his free hand,
-and bore them with him, devoutly hoping that he was not being watched
-from the dining-room. Could he possibly get from the telephone out the
-front door without being seen? Hastily he hid the cipher message in an
-inner pocket. The napkin he dropped on the little telephone table, and
-taking up the receiver he spoke: “Hello! Yes! Oh, good evening! You
-don’t say so! How did that happen?” He made his voice purposely clear,
-that it might be heard in the dining-room if anyone was listening. Then
-glancing in that direction he saw, to his horror, his host lean over
-and lift the cipher paper he had left on the table and hand it to the
-guest on his right.
-
-The messenger at the other end had given his sentence agreed upon
-and he had replied according to the sentences laid down by the chief
-in his instructions; the other end had said good-by and hung up, but
-Gordon’s voice spoke, cool and clear in the little alcove, despite
-his excitement. “All right. Certainly, I can take time to write it
-down. Wait until I get my pencil. Now, I’m ready. Have you it there?
-I’ll wait a minute until you get it.” His heart beat wildly. The blood
-surged through his ears like rushing waters. Would they look for the
-little red mark? The soft clink of spoons and dishes and the murmur of
-conversation was still going on, but there was no doubt but that it
-was a matter of a few seconds before his theft would be discovered. He
-must make an instant dash for liberty while he yet could. Cautiously,
-stealthily, like a shadow from the alcove, one eye on the dining-room,
-he stole to the door and turned the knob. Yet even as he did so he saw
-his recent host rise excitedly from his seat and fairly snatch the
-paper from the man who held it. His last glimpse of the room where he
-had but three minutes before been enjoying the hospitality of the house
-was a vision of the entire company starting up and pointing to himself
-even as he slid from sight. There was no longer need for silence. He
-had been discovered and must fight for his life. He shut the door
-quickly, his nerves so tense that it seemed as if something must break
-soon; opened and slammed the outer door, and was out in the great
-whirling city under the flare of electric lamps with only the chance of
-a second of time before his pursuers would be upon him.
-
-He came down the steps with the air of one who could scarcely take time
-to touch his feet to the ground, but must fly.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-
-Almost in front of the house stood a closed carriage with two fine
-horses, but the coachman was looking up anxiously toward the next
-building. The sound of the closing door drew the man’s attention, and,
-catching Gordon’s eye, he made as if to jump down and throw open the
-door of the carriage. Quick as a flash, Gordon saw he had been mistaken
-for the man the carriage awaited, and he determined to make use of the
-circumstance.
-
-“Don’t get down,” he called to the man, taking chances. “It’s very late
-already. I’ll open the door. Drive for all you’re worth.” He jumped
-in and slammed the carriage door behind him, and in a second more the
-horses were flying down the street. A glance from the back window
-showed an excited group of his fellow-guests standing at the open door
-of the mansion he had just left pointing toward his carriage and wildly
-gesticulating. He surmised that his host was already at the telephone
-calling for his own private detective.
-
-Gordon could scarcely believe his senses that he had accomplished his
-mission and flight so far, and yet he knew his situation was most
-precarious. Where he was going he neither knew nor cared. When he was
-sure he was far enough from the house he would call to the driver and
-give him directions, but first he must make sure that the precious
-paper was safely stowed away, in case he should be caught and searched.
-They might be coming after him with motor-cycles in a minute or two.
-
-Carefully rolling the paper into a tiny compass, he slipped it into
-a hollow gold case which was among the things in the envelope the
-chief had given him. There was a fine chain attached to the case, and
-the whole looked innocently like a gold pencil. The chain he slipped
-about his neck, dropping the case down inside his collar. That done he
-breathed more freely. Only from his dead body should they take that
-away. Then he hastily put on the false eyebrows, mustache, and goatee
-which had been provided for his disguise, and pulling on a pair of
-light gloves he felt more fit to evade detection.
-
-He was just beginning to think what he should say to the driver about
-taking him to the station, for it was important that he get out of the
-city at once, when, glancing out of the window to see what part of
-the city he was being taken through he became aware of an auto close
-beside the carriage keeping pace with it, and two men stretching their
-necks as if to look into the carriage window at him. He withdrew to the
-shadow instantly so that they could not see him, but the one quick
-glance he had made him sure that one of his pursuers was the short
-thick-set man with the cruel jaw who had sat across from him at the
-dinner-table a few minutes before. If this were so he had practically
-no chance at all of escape, for what was a carriage against a swift
-moving car and what was he against a whole city full of strangers and
-enemies? If he attempted to drop from the carriage on the other side
-and escape into the darkness he had but a chance of a thousand at not
-being seen, and he could not hope to hide and get away in this unknown
-part of the city. Yet he must take his chance somehow, for the carriage
-must sooner or later get somewhere and he be obliged to face his
-pursuers.
-
-To make matters worse, just at the instant when he had decided to jump
-at the next dark place and was measuring the distance with his eye, his
-hand even being outstretched to grasp the door handle, a blustering,
-boisterous motor-cycle burst into full bloom just where he intended
-to jump, and the man who rode it was in uniform. He dodged back into
-the darkness of the carriage again that he might not be seen, and
-the motor-cycle came so near that its rider turned a white face and
-looked in. He felt that his time had come, and his cause was lost. It
-had not yet occurred to him that the men who were pursuing him would
-hardly be likely to call in municipal aid in their search, lest their
-own duplicity would be discovered. He reasoned that he was dealing
-with desperate men who would stop at nothing to get back the original
-cipher paper, and stop his mouth. He was well aware that only death
-would be considered a sufficient silencer for him after what he had
-seen at Mr. Holman’s dinner-table, for the evidence he could give would
-involve the honor of every man who had sat there. He saw in a flash
-that the two henchmen whom he was sure were even now riding in the car
-on his right had been at the table for the purpose of silencing him
-if he showed any signs of giving trouble. The wonder was that any of
-them dared call in a stranger on a matter of such grave import which
-meant ruin to them all if they were found out, but probably they had
-reasoned that every man had his price and had intended to offer him a
-share of the booty. It was likely that the chief had caused it to be
-understood by them that he was the right kind of man for their purpose.
-Yet, of course, they had taken precautions, and now they had him well
-caught, an auto on one side, a motor-cycle on the other and no telling
-how many more behind! He had been a fool to get into this carriage.
-He might have known it would only trap him to his death. There seemed
-absolutely no chance for escape now--yet he must fight to the last. He
-put his hand on his revolver to make sure it was easy to get at, tried
-to think whether it would not be better to chew up and swallow that
-cipher message rather than to run the risk of its falling again into
-the hands of the enemy; decided that he must carry it intact to his
-chief if possible; and finally that he must make a dash for safety at
-once, when just then the carriage turned briskly into a wide driveway,
-and the attendant auto and motor-cycle dropped behind as if puzzled at
-the move. The carriage stopped short and a bright light from an open
-doorway was flung into his face. There seemed to be high stone walls on
-one side and the lighted doorway on the other hand evidently led into
-a great stone building. He could hear the puffing of the car and cycle
-just behind. A wild notion that the carriage had been placed in front
-of the house to trap him in case he tried to escape, and that he had
-been brought to prison, flitted through his mind.
-
-His hand was on his revolver as the coachman jumped down to fling open
-the carriage door, for he intended to fight for his liberty to the last.
-
-He glanced back through the carriage window, and the lights of the auto
-glared in his face. The short, thick-set man was getting out of the
-car, and the motor-cyclist had stood his machine up against the wall
-and was coming toward the carriage. Escape was going to be practically
-impossible. A wild thought of dashing out the opposite door of his
-carriage, boldly seizing the motor-cycle and making off on it passed
-through his mind, and then the door on his left was flung open and the
-carriage was immediately surrounded by six excited men in evening dress
-all talking at once. “Here you are at last!” they chorused.
-
-“Where is the best man?” shouted some one from the doorway. “Hasn’t
-he come either?” And as if in answer one of the men by the carriage
-door wheeled and called excitedly: “Yes, he’s come! Tell him--tell
-Jeff--tell him he’s come.” Then turning once more to Gordon he seized
-him by the arm and cried: “Come on quickly! There isn’t a minute to
-wait. The organist is fairly frantic. Everybody has been just as
-nervous as could be. We couldn’t very well go on without you--you know.
-But don’t let that worry you. It’s all right now you’ve come. Forget
-it, old man, and hustle.” Dimly Gordon perceived above the sound of
-subdued hubbub that an organ was playing, and even as he listened it
-burst into the joyous notes of the wedding march. It dawned upon him
-that this was not a prison to which he had come but a church--not a
-court-room but a wedding, and horror of horrors! they took him for the
-best man. His disguise had been his undoing. How was he to get out of
-this scrape? And with his pursuers just behind!
-
-“Let me explain----” he began, and wondered what he could explain.
-
-“There’s no time for explanations now, man. I tell you the organ has
-begun the march. We’re expected to be marching down that middle aisle
-this very minute and Jeff is waiting for us in the chapel. I sent the
-signal to the bride and another to the organist the minute we sighted
-you. Come on! Everybody knows your boat was late in coming in. You
-don’t need to explain a thing till afterwards.”
-
-At that moment one of the ushers moved aside and the short, thick-set
-man stepped between, the light shining full upon his face, and Gordon
-knew him positively for the man who had sat opposite him at the table a
-few minutes before. He was peering eagerly into the carriage door and
-Gordon saw his only escape was into the church. With his heart pounding
-like a trip hammer he yielded himself to the six ushers, who swept the
-little pursuer aside as if he had been a fly and literally bore Gordon
-up the steps and into the church door.
-
-A burst of music filled his senses, and dazzling lights, glimpses
-of flowers, palms and beautiful garments bewildered him. His one
-thought was for escape from his pursuers. Would they follow him into
-the church and drag him out in the presence of all these people, or
-would they be thrown off the track for a little while and give him
-opportunity yet to get away? He looked around wildly for a place of
-exit but he was in the hands of the insistent ushers. One of them
-chattered to him in a low, growling whisper, such as men use on solemn
-occasions:
-
-“It must have been rough on you being anxious like this about getting
-here, but never mind now. It’ll go all right. Come on. Here’s our
-cue and there stands Jefferson over there. You and he go in with the
-minister, you know. The groom and the best man, you understand, they’ll
-tell you when. Jeff has the ring all right, so you won’t need to bother
-about that. There’s absolutely nothing for you to do but stand where
-you’re put and go out when the rest do. You needn’t feel a bit nervous.”
-
-Was it possible that these crazy people didn’t recognize their mistake
-even yet here in the bright light? Couldn’t they see his mustache was
-stuck on and one eyebrow was crooked? Didn’t they know their best man
-well enough to recognize his voice? Surely, surely, some one would
-discover the mistake soon--that man Jeff over there who was eyeing him
-so intently. He would be sure to know this was not his friend. Yet
-every minute that they continued to think so was a distinct gain for
-Gordon, puzzling his pursuers and giving himself time to think and plan
-and study his strange surroundings.
-
-And now they were drawing him forward and a turn of his head gave him
-a vision of the stubbed head of the thick-set man peering in at the
-chapel door and watching him eagerly. He must fool him if possible.
-
-“But I don’t know anything about the arrangements,” faltered Gordon,
-reflecting that the best man might not be very well known to the ushers
-and perhaps he resembled him. It was not the first time he had been
-taken for another man--and with his present make-up and all, perhaps it
-was natural. Could he possibly hope to bluff it out for a few minutes
-until the ceremony was over and then escape? It would of course be the
-best way imaginable to throw that impudent little man in the doorway
-off his track. If the real best man would only stay away long enough
-it would not be a difficult part to play. The original man might turn
-up after he was gone and create a pleasant little mystery, but nobody
-would be injured thereby. All this passed through his mind while the
-usher kept up his sepulchral whisper:
-
-“Why, there are just the usual arrangements, you know--nothing new.
-You and Jeff go in after the ushers have reached the back of the church
-and opened the door. Then you just stand there till Celia and her uncle
-come up the aisle. Then follows the ceremony--very brief. Celia had
-all that repeating after the minister cut out on account of not being
-able to rehearse. It’s to be just the simplest service, not the usual
-lengthy affair. Don’t worry, you’ll be all right, old man. Hurry!
-They’re calling you. Leave your hat right here. Now I must go. Keep
-cool. It’ll soon be over.”
-
-The breathless usher hurried through the door and settled into a sort
-of exalted hobble to the time of the wonderful Lohengrin music. Gordon
-turned, thinking even yet to make a possible escape, but the eagle-eye
-of his pursuer was upon him and the man Jefferson was by his side:
-
-“Here we are!” he said, eagerly grabbing Gordon’s hat and coat and
-dumping them on a chair. “I’ll look after everything. Just come along.
-It’s time we went in. The doctor is motioning for us. Awfully glad to
-see you at last. Too bad you had to rush so. How many years is it since
-I saw you? Ten! You’ve changed some, but you’re looking fine and dandy.
-No need to worry about anything. It’ll soon be over and the knot tied.”
-
-Mechanically Gordon fell into place beside the man Jefferson, who was
-a pleasant-faced youth, well-groomed and handsome. Looking furtively
-at his finely-cut, happy features, Gordon wondered if he would feel
-as glad as this youth seemed to be, when he walked down the aisle to
-meet his bride. How, by the way, would he feel if he were going to be
-married now,--going into the face of this great company of well-dressed
-people to meet Miss Julia Bentley and be joined to her for life?
-Instinctively his soul shrank within him at the thought.
-
-But now the door was wide open, the organ pealing its best, and he
-suddenly became aware of many eyes, and of wondering how long his
-eyebrows would withstand the perspiration that was trickling softly
-down his forehead. His mustache--ridiculous appendage! why had he not
-removed it?--was it awry? Dared he put up his hand to see? His gloves!
-Would anyone notice that they were not as strictly fresh as a best
-man’s gloves should be? Then he took his first step to the music, and
-it was like being pulled from a delicious morning nap and plunged into
-a tub of icy water.
-
-He walked with feet that suddenly weighed like lead, across a church
-that looked to be miles in width, in the face of swarms of curious
-eyes. He tried to reflect that these people were all strangers to him,
-that they were not looking at him, anyway, but at the bridegroom by
-his side, and that it mattered very little what he did, so long as he
-kept still and braved it out, if only the real best man didn’t turn up
-until he was well out of the church. Then he could vanish in the dark,
-and go by some back way to a car or a taxicab and so to the station.
-The thought of the paper inside the gold pencil-case filled him with
-a sort of elation. If only he could get out of this dreadful church,
-he would probably get away safely. Perhaps even the incident of the
-wedding might prove to be his protection, for they would never seek him
-in a crowded church at a fashionable wedding.
-
-The man by his side managed him admirably, giving him a whispered
-hint, a shove, or a push now and then, and getting him into the proper
-position. It seemed as if the best man had to occupy the most trying
-spot in all the church, but as they put him there, of course it was
-right. He glanced furtively over the faces near the front, and they all
-looked quite satisfied, as if everything were going as it should, so he
-settled down to his fate, his white, strained face partly hidden by the
-abundant display of mustache and eyebrow. People whispered softly how
-handsome he looked, and some suggested that he was not so stout as when
-they had last seen him, ten years before. His stay in a foreign land
-must have done him good. One woman went so far as to tell her daughter
-that he was far more distinguished-looking than she had ever thought he
-could become, but it was wonderful what a stay in a foreign land would
-do to improve a person.
-
-The music stole onward; and slowly, gracefully, like the opening of
-buds into flowers, the bridal party inched along up the middle aisle
-until at last the bride in all the mystery of her white veil arrived,
-and all the maidens in their flowers and many colored gauzes were
-suitably disposed about her.
-
-The feeble old man on whose arm the bride had leaned as she came up
-the aisle dropped out of the procession, melting into one of the front
-seats, and Gordon found himself standing beside the bride. He felt sure
-there must be something wrong about it, and looked at his young guide
-with an attempt to change places with him, but the man named Jefferson
-held him in place with a warning eye. “You’re all right. Just stay
-where you are,” he whispered softly, and Gordon stayed, reflecting on
-the strange fashions of weddings, and wondering why he had never before
-taken notice of just how a wedding party came in and stood and got out
-again. If he was only out of this how glad he would be. It seemed one
-had to be a pretty all-around man to be a member of the Secret Service.
-
-The organ had hushed its voice to a sort of exultant sobbing, filled
-with dreams of flowers and joys, and hints of sorrow; and the minister
-in a voice both impressive and musical began the ceremony. Gordon stood
-doggedly and wondered if that really was one eyebrow coming down over
-his eye, or only a drop of perspiration.
-
-Another full second passed, and he decided that if he ever got out
-of this situation alive he would never, no, never, no, _never_, get
-married himself.
-
-During the next second that crawled by he became supremely conscious
-of the creature in white by his side. A desire possessed him to look
-at her and see if she were like Julia Bentley. It was like a nightmare
-haunting his dreams that she _was_ Julia Bentley somehow transported
-to New York and being married to him willy-nilly. He could not shake
-it off, and the other eyebrow began to feel shaky. He was sure it was
-sailing down over his eye. If he only dared press its adhesive lining a
-little tighter to his flesh!
-
-Some time during the situation there came a prayer, interminable to his
-excited imagination, as all the other ceremonies.
-
-Under cover of the hush and the supposedly bowed heads, Gordon turned
-desperately toward the bride. He must see her and drive this phantasm
-from his brain. He turned, half expecting to see Julia’s tall,
-handsome form, though telling himself he was a fool, and wondering why
-he so dreaded the idea. Then his gaze was held fascinated.
-
-She was a little creature, slender and young and very beautiful,
-with a beauty which a deathly pallor only enhanced. Her face was
-delicately cut, and set in a frame of fine dark hair, the whole made
-most exquisite by the mist of white tulle that breathed itself about
-her like real mist over a flower. But the lovely head drooped, the
-coral lips had a look of unutterable sadness, and the long lashes swept
-over white cheeks. He could not take his eyes from her now that he had
-looked. How lovely, and how fitting for the delightful youth by his
-side! Now that he thought of it she was like him, only smaller and more
-delicate, of course. A sudden fierce, ridiculous feeling of envy filled
-Gordon’s heart. Why couldn’t he have known and loved a girl like that?
-Why had Julia Bentley been forever in his pathway as the girl laid out
-for his choice?
-
-He looked at her with such intensity that a couple of dear old sisters
-who listened to the prayer with their eyes wide open, whispered one to
-the other: “Just see him look at her! How he must love her! Wasn’t it
-beautiful that he should come right from the steamer to the church and
-never see her till now, for the first time in ten long years. It’s so
-romantic!”
-
-“Yes,” whispered the other; “and I believe it’ll last. He looks at her
-that way. Only I do dislike that way of arranging the hair on his face.
-But then it’s foreign I suppose. He’ll probably get over it if they
-stay in this country.”
-
-A severe old lady in the seat in front turned a reprimanding chin
-toward them and they subsided. Still Gordon continued to gaze.
-
-Then the bride became aware of his look, raised her eyes, and--they
-were full of tears!
-
-They gave him one reproachful glance that shot through his soul like a
-sword, and her lashes drooped again. By some mysterious control over
-the law of gravity, the tears remained unshed, and the man’s gaze was
-turned aside; but that look had done its mighty work.
-
-All the experiences of the day rushed over him and seemed to culminate
-in that one look. It was as if the reproach of all things had come upon
-him. The hurt in the white dog’s eyes had touched him, the perfect
-courage in the appeal of the child’s eyes had called forth his deepest
-sympathy, but the tears of this exquisite woman wrung his heart. He saw
-now that the appeal of the dog and the child had been the opening wedge
-for the look of a woman, which tore self from him and flung it at her
-feet for her to walk upon; and when the prayer was ended he found that
-he was trembling.
-
-He looked vindictively at the innocent youth beside him, as the soft
-rustle of the audience and the little breath of relief from the
-bridal party betokened the next stage in the ceremony. What had this
-innocent-looking youth done to cause tears in those lovely eyes? Was
-she marrying him against her will? He was only a boy, anyway. What
-right had he to suppose he could care for a delicate creature like
-that? He was making her cry already, and he seemed to be utterly
-unconscious of it. What could be the matter? Gordon felt a desire to
-kick him.
-
-Then it occurred to him that inadvertently _he_ might have been the
-cause of her tears; he, supposedly the best man, who had been late, and
-held up the wedding no knowing how long. Of course it wasn’t really
-his fault; but by proxy it was, for he now was masquerading as that
-unlucky best man, and she was very likely reproaching him for what she
-supposed was his stupidity. He had heard that women cried sometimes
-from vexation, disappointment or excitement.
-
-Yet in his heart of hearts he could not set those tears, that look,
-down to so trivial a cause. They had reached his very soul, and he
-felt there was something deeper there than mere vexation. There had
-been bitter reproach for a deep wrong done. The glance had told him
-that. All the manhood in him rose to defend her against whoever had
-hurt her. He longed to get one more look into her eyes to make quite
-sure; and then, if there was still appeal there, his soul must answer
-it.
-
-For the moment his commission, his ridiculous situation, the real peril
-to his life and trust, were forgotten.
-
-The man Jefferson had produced a ring and was nudging him. It appeared
-that the best man had some part to play with that ring. He dimly
-remembered somewhere hearing that the best man must hand the ring to
-the bridegroom at the proper moment, but it was absurd for them to go
-through the farce of doing that when the bridegroom already held the
-golden circlet in his fingers! Why did he not step up like a man and
-put it upon the outstretched hand; that little white hand just in front
-of him there, so timidly held out with its glove fingers tucked back,
-like a dove crept out from its covert unwillingly?
-
-But that Jefferson-man still held out the ring stupidly to him, and
-evidently expected him to take it. Silly youth! There was nothing for
-it but to take it and hand it back, of course. He must do as he was
-told and hasten that awful ceremony to its interminable close. He took
-the ring and held it out, but the young man did not take it again.
-Instead he whispered, “Put it on her finger!”
-
-Gordon frowned. Could he be hearing aright? Why didn’t the fellow put
-the ring on his own bride? If he were being married, he would knock any
-man down that dared to put his wife’s wedding ring on for him. Could
-that be the silly custom now, to have the best man put the bride’s ring
-on? How unutterably out of place! But he must not make a scene, of
-course.
-
-The little timid hand, so slender and white, came a shade nearer as if
-to help, and the ring finger separated itself from the others.
-
-He looked at the smooth circlet. It seemed too tiny for any woman’s
-finger. Then, reverently, he slipped it on, with a strange,
-inexpressible longing to touch the little hand. While he was thinking
-himself all kinds of a fool, and was enjoying one of his intermittent
-visions of Julia Bentley’s expressive countenance interpolated on the
-present scene, a strange thing happened.
-
-There had been some low murmurs and motions which he had not noticed
-because he thought his part of this very uncomfortable affair was
-about concluded, when, lo and behold, the minister and the young man
-by his side both began fumbling for his hand, and among them they
-managed to bring it into position and place in its astonished grasp the
-little timid hand that he had just crowned with its ring.
-
-As his fingers closed over the bride’s hand, there was such reverence,
-such tenderness in his touch that the girl’s eyes were raised once more
-to his face, this time with the conquered tears in retreat, but all the
-pain and appeal still there. He looked and involuntarily he pressed her
-hand the closer, as if to promise aforetime whatever she would ask.
-Then, with her hand in his, and with the realization that they two
-were detached as it were from the rest of the wedding party, standing
-in a little centre of their own, his senses came back to him, and he
-perceived as in a flash of understanding that it was _they_ who were
-being married!
-
-There had been some terrible, unexplainable mistake, and he was
-stupidly standing in another man’s place, taking life vows upon
-himself! The thing had passed from an adventure of little moment into a
-matter of a life-tragedy, two life-tragedies perhaps! What should he do?
-
-With the question came the words, “I pronounce you husband and wife,”
-and “let no man put asunder.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-
-What had he done? Was it some great unnamed, unheard-of crime he had
-unconsciously committed? Could anyone understand or excuse such asinine
-stupidity? Could he ever hold up his head again, though he fled to
-the most distant part of the globe? Was there nothing that could save
-the situation? Now, before they left the church, could he not declare
-the truth, and set things right, undo the words that had been spoken
-in the presence of all these witnesses, and send out to find the real
-bridegroom? Surely neither law nor gospel could endorse a bond made in
-the ignorance of either participant. It would, of course, be a terrible
-thing for the bride, but better now than later. Besides, he was pledged
-by that hand-clasp to answer the appeal in her eyes and protect her.
-This, then, was what it had meant!
-
-But his commission! What of that? “A matter of life and death!” Ah! but
-this was _more_ than life or death!
-
-While these rapid thoughts were flashing through his brain, the
-benediction was being pronounced, and with the last word the organ
-pealed forth its triumphant lay. The audience stirred excitedly,
-anticipating the final view of the wedding procession.
-
-The bride turned to take her bouquet from the maid of honor, and the
-movement broke the spell under which Gordon had been held.
-
-He turned to the young man by his side and spoke hurriedly in a low
-tone.
-
-“An awful mistake has been made,” he said, and the organ drowned
-everything but the word “mistake.” “I don’t know what to do,” he went
-on. But young Jefferson hastened to reassure him joyously:
-
-“Not a bit of it, old chap. Nobody noticed that hitch about the ring.
-It was only a second. Everything went off slick. You haven’t anything
-more to do now but take my sister out. Look alive, there! She looks as
-if she might be going to faint! She hasn’t been a bit well all day!
-Steady her, quick, can’t you? She’ll stick it out till she gets to the
-air, but hurry, for goodness’ sake!”
-
-Gordon turned in alarm. Already the frail white bride had a claim on
-him. His first duty was to get her out of this crowd. Perhaps, after
-all, she had discovered that he was not the right man, and that was the
-meaning of her tears and appeal. Yet she had held her own and allowed
-things to go through to the finish, and perhaps he had no right to
-reveal to the assembled multitudes what she evidently wanted kept
-quiet. He must wait till he could ask her. He must do as this other man
-said--this--this brother of hers--who was of course the best man. Oh,
-fool, and blind! Why had he not understood at the beginning and got
-himself out of this fix before it was too late? And what should he do
-when he reached the door? How could he ever explain? His commission! He
-dared not breathe a word of that? What explanation could he possibly
-offer for his--his--yes----his _criminal_ conduct? Why, no such thing
-was ever heard of in the history of mankind as that which had happened
-to him. From start to finish it was--it--was---- He could not think of
-words to express what it was.
-
-He was by this time meandering jerkily down the aisle, attempting to
-keep time to the music and look the part that she evidently expected
-him to play, but his eyes were upon her face, which was whiter now and,
-if possible, lovelier, than before.
-
-“Oh, just see how devoted he is,” murmured the eldest of the two dear
-old sisters, and he caught the sense of her words as he passed, and
-wondered. Then, immediately before him, retreating backward down the
-aisle with terrible eyes of scorn upon him, he seemed to feel the
-presence of Miss Julia Bentley leading onward toward the church door;
-but he would not take his eyes from that sweet, sad face of the white
-bride on his arm to look. He somehow knew that if he could hold out
-until he reached that door without looking up, her power over him would
-be exorcised forever.
-
-Out into the vacant vestibule, under the tented canopy, alone together
-for the moment, he felt her gentle weight grow heavy on his arm, and
-knew her footsteps were lagging. Instinctively, lest others should
-gather around them, he almost lifted her and bore her down the carpeted
-steps, through the covered pathway, to the luxurious motor-car waiting
-with open door, and placed her on the cushions. Some one closed the car
-door and almost immediately they were in motion.
-
-She settled back with a half sigh, as if she could not have borne
-one instant more of strain, then sitting opposite he adjusted the
-window to give her air. She seemed grateful but said nothing. Her eyes
-were closed wearily, and the whole droop of her figure showed utter
-exhaustion. It seemed a desecration to speak to her, yet he must have
-some kind of an understanding before they reached their destination.
-
-“An explanation is due to you----” he began, without knowing just what
-he was going to say, but she put out her hand with a weary protest.
-
-“Oh, please don’t!” she pleaded. “I know--the boat was late! It doesn’t
-matter in the least.”
-
-He sat back appalled! She did not herself know then that she had
-married the wrong man!
-
-“But you don’t understand,” he protested.
-
-“Never mind,” she moaned. “I don’t want to understand. Nothing can
-change things. Only, let me be quiet till we get to the house, or I
-never can go through with the rest of it.”
-
-Her words ended with almost a sob, and he sat silent for an instant,
-with a mingling of emotions, uppermost of which was a desire to take
-the little, white, shrinking girl into his arms and comfort her,
-“Nothing can change things!” That sounded as though she did know
-but thought it too late to undo the great mistake now that it had
-been made. He must let her know that he had not understood until the
-ceremony was over. While he sat helplessly looking at her in the
-dimness of the car where she looked so small and sad and misty huddled
-beside her great bouquet, she opened her eyes and looked at him. She
-seemed to understand that he was about to speak again. By the great arc
-light they were passing he saw there were tears in her eyes again, and
-her voice held a child-like pleading as she uttered one word:
-
-“Don’t!”
-
-It hurt him like a knife, he knew not why. But he could not resist the
-appeal. Duty or no duty, he could not disobey her command.
-
-“Very well.” He said it quietly, almost tenderly, and sat back with
-folded arms. After all, what explanation could he give her that she
-would believe? He might not breathe a word of his commission or
-the message. What other reason could he give for his extraordinary
-appearance at her wedding and by her side?
-
-The promise in his voice seemed to give her relief. She breathed a
-sigh of relief and closed her eyes. He must just keep still and have
-his eyes open for a chance to escape when the carriage reached its
-destination.
-
-Thus silently they threaded through unknown streets, strange thoughts
-in the heart of each. The bride was struggling with her heavy burden,
-and the man was trying to think his way out of the maze of perplexity
-into which he had unwittingly wandered. He tried to set his thoughts
-in order and find out just what to do. First of all, of course came
-his commission, but somehow every time the little white bride opposite
-took first place in his mind. Could he serve both? What _would_ serve
-both, and what would serve _either_? As for himself, he was free to
-confess that there was no room left in the present situation for even
-a consideration of his own interests.
-
-Whatever there was of good in him must go now to set matters right
-in which he had greatly blundered. He must do the best he could for
-the girl who had so strangely crossed his pathway, and get back to
-his commission. But when he tried to realize the importance of his
-commission and set it over against the interests of the girl-bride, his
-mind became confused. What should he do! He could not think of slipping
-away and leaving her without further words, even if an opportunity
-offered itself. Perhaps he was wrong. Doubtless his many friends might
-tell him so if they were consulted, but he did not intend to consult
-them. He intended to see this troubled soul to some place of safety,
-and look out for his commission as best he could afterward. One thing
-he did not fully realize, and that was that Miss Julia Bentley’s vision
-troubled him no longer. He was free. There was only one woman in the
-whole wide world that gave him any concern, and that was the little
-sorrowful creature who sat opposite to him, and to whom he had just
-been married.
-
-Just been married! He! The thought brought with it a thrill of wonder,
-and a something else that was not unpleasant. What if he really had?
-Of course he had not. Of course such a thing could not hold good. But
-what if he had! Just for an instant he entertained the thought--would
-he be glad or sorry? He did not know her, of course, had heard her
-speak but a few words, had looked into her face plainly but once, and
-yet suppose she were his! His heart answered the question with a glad
-bound that astonished him, and all his former ideas of real love were
-swept from his mind in a breath. He knew that, stranger though she
-was, he could take her to his heart; cherish her, love her and bear
-with her, as he never could have done Julia Bentley. Then all at once
-he realized that he was allowing his thoughts to dwell upon a woman
-who by all that was holy belonged to another man, and that other man
-would doubtless soon be the one with whom he would have to deal. He
-would soon be face to face with a new phase of the situation and he
-must prepare himself to meet it. What was he going to do? Should he
-plan to escape from the opposite door of the automobile while the bride
-was being assisted from her seat? No, he could not, for he would be
-expected to get out first and help her out. Besides, there would be too
-many around, and he could not possibly get away. But, greater than any
-such reason, the thing that held him bound was the look in her eyes
-through the tears. He simply could not leave her until he knew that
-she no longer needed him. And yet there was his commission! Well, he
-must see her in the hands of those who would care for her at least. So
-much he had done even for the white dog, and then, too, surely she was
-worth as many minutes of his time as he had been compelled to give to
-the injured child of the streets. If he only could explain to her now!
-
-The thought of his message, with its terrible significance, safe in
-his possession, sent shivers of anxiety through his frame! Suppose
-he should be caught, and it taken from him, all on account of this
-most impossible incident! What scorn, what contumely, would be his!
-How could he ever explain to his chief? Would anybody living believe
-that a man in his senses could be married to a stranger before a
-whole church full of people, and not know he was being married until
-the deed was done--and then not do anything about it after it was
-done? That was what he was doing now this very minute. He ought to be
-explaining something somehow to that poor little creature in the shadow
-of the carriage. Perhaps in some way it might relieve her sorrow if he
-did, and yet when he looked at her and tried to speak his mouth was
-hopelessly closed. He might not tell her anything!
-
-He gradually sifted his immediate actions down to two necessities;
-to get his companion to a safe place where her friends could care for
-her, and to make his escape as soon and as swiftly as possible. It was
-awful to run and leave her without telling her anything about it; when
-she evidently believed him to be the man she had promised and intended
-to marry; but the real bridegroom would surely turn up soon somehow
-and make matters right. Anyhow, it was the least he could do to take
-himself out of her way, and to get his trust to its owners at once.
-
-The car halted suddenly before a brightly lighted mansion, whose tented
-entrance effectually shut out the gaze of alien eyes, and made the
-transit from car to domicile entirely private. There was no opportunity
-here to disappear. The sidewalk and road were black with curious
-onlookers. He stepped from the car first and helped the lady out. He
-bore her heavy bouquet because she looked literally too frail to carry
-it further herself.
-
-In the doorway she was surrounded by a bevy of servants, foremost among
-whom her old nurse claimed the privilege of greeting her with tears and
-smiles and many “Miss-Celia-my-dears,” and Gordon stood for the instant
-entranced, watching the sweet play of loving kindness in the face of
-the pale little bride. As soon as he could lay down those flowers
-inconspicuously he would be on the alert for a way of escape. It
-surely would be found through some back or side entrance of the house.
-
-But even as the thought came to him the old nurse stepped back to let
-the other servants greet the bride with stiff bows and embarrassed
-words of blessing, and he felt a hand laid heavily on his arm.
-
-He started as he turned, thinking instantly again of his commission and
-expecting to see a policeman in uniform by his side, but it was only
-the old nurse, with tears of devotion still in her faded eyes.
-
-“Mister George, ye hevn’t forgot me, hev ye?” she asked, earnestly.
-“You usen’t to like me verra well, I mind, but ye was awful for the
-teasin’ an’ I was always for my Miss Celie! But bygones is bygones now
-an’ I wish ye well. Yer growed a man, an’ I know ye must be worthy o’
-her, or she’d never hev consented to take ye. Yev got a gude wife an’
-no mistake, an’ I know ye’ll be the happiest man alive. Ye won’t hold
-it against me, Mister George, that I used to tell yer uncle on your
-masterful tricks, will ye? You mind I was only carin’ fer my baby girl,
-an’ ye were but a boy.”
-
-She paused as if expecting an answer, and Gordon embarrassedly assured
-her that he would never think of holding so trifling a matter against
-her. He cast a look of reverent admiration and tenderness toward the
-beautiful girl who was smiling on her loyal subjects like a queen,
-roused from her sorrow to give joy to others; and even her old nurse
-was satisfied.
-
-“Ah, ye luve her, Mister George, don’t ye?” the nurse questioned. “I
-don’t wonder. Everybody what lays eyes on her luves her. She’s that
-dear----” here the tears got the better of the good woman for an
-instant and she forgot herself and pulled at the skirt of her new black
-dress thinking it was an apron, and wishing to wipe her eyes.
-
-Then suddenly Gordon found his lips uttering strange words, without his
-own apparent consent, as if his heart had suddenly taken things in hand
-and determined to do as it pleased without consulting his judgment.
-
-“Yes, I love her,” he was saying, and to his amazement he found that
-the words were true.
-
-This discovery made matters still more complicated.
-
-“Then ye’ll promise me something, Mister George, won’t ye?” said the
-nurse eagerly, her tears having their own way down her rosy anxious
-face. “Ye’ll promise me never to make her feel bad any more? She’s
-cried a lot these last three months, an’ nobody knows but me. She could
-hide it from them all but her old nurse that has loved her so long. But
-she’s been that sorrowful, enough fer a whole lifetime. Promise that
-ye’ll do all in yer power to make her happy always.”
-
-“I will do all in my power to make her happy,” he said, solemnly, as if
-he were uttering a vow, and wondered how short-lived that power was to
-be.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-
-The wedding party had arrived in full force now. Carriages and
-automobiles were unloading; gay voices and laughter filled the house.
-The servants disappeared to their places, and the white bride, with
-only a motioning look toward Gordon, led the way to the place where
-they were to stand under an arch of roses, lilies and palms, in a
-room hung from the ceiling with drooping ferns and white carnations
-on invisible threads of silver wire, until it all seemed like a fairy
-dream.
-
-Gordon had no choice but to follow, as his way was blocked by the
-incoming guests, and he foresaw that his exit would have to be made
-from some other door than the front if he were to escape yet awhile.
-As he stepped into the mystery of the flower-scented room where his
-lady led the way, he was conscious of a feeling of transition from the
-world of ordinary things into one of wonder, beauty and mysterious joy;
-but all the time he knew he was an impostor, who had no right in that
-silver-threaded bower.
-
-Yet there he stood bowing, shaking hands, and smirking behind his false
-mustache, which threatened every minute to betray him.
-
-People told him he was looking well, and congratulated him on his
-bride. Some said he was stouter than when he left the country, and
-some said he was thinner. They asked him questions about relatives
-and friends living and dead, and he ran constant risk of getting into
-hopeless difficulties. His only safety was in smiling, and saying very
-little; seeming not to hear some questions, and answering others with
-another question. It was not so hard after he got started, because
-there were so many people, and they kept coming close upon one another,
-so no one had much time to talk. Then supper with its formalities was
-got through with somehow, though to Gordon, with his already satisfied
-appetite and his hampering mustache, it seemed an endless ordeal.
-
-“Jeff,” as they all called him, was everywhere, attending to
-everything, and he slipped up to the unwilling bridegroom just as he
-was having to answer a very difficult question about the lateness of
-his vessel, and the kind of passage they had experienced in crossing.
-By this time Gordon had discovered that he was supposed to have been
-ten years abroad, and his steamer had been late in landing, but where
-he came from or what he had been doing over there were still to be
-found out; and it was extremely puzzling to be asked from what port he
-had sailed, and how he came to be there when he had been supposed to
-have been in St. Petersburg but the week before? His state of mind was
-anything but enviable. Besides all this, Gordon was just reflecting
-that the last he had seen of his hat and coat was in the church. What
-had become of them, and how could he go to the station without a hat?
-Then opportunely “Jeff” arrived.
-
-“Your train leaves at ten three,” he said in a low, business-like tone,
-as if he enjoyed the importance of having made all the arrangements.
-“I’ve secured the stateroom as you cabled me to do, and here are the
-tickets and checks. The trunks are down there all checked. Celia didn’t
-want any nonsense about their being tied up with white ribbon. She
-hates all that. We’ve arranged for you to slip out by the fire-escape
-and down through the back yard of the next neighbor, where a motor,
-just a plain regular one from the station, will be waiting around the
-corner in the shadow. Celia knows where it is. None of the party will
-know you are gone until you are well under way. The car they think you
-will take is being elaborately adorned with white at the front door
-now, but you won’t have any trouble about it. I’ve fixed everything up.
-Your coat and hat are out on the fire-escape, and as soon as Celia’s
-ready I’ll show you the way.”
-
-Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else to do, but his countenance
-grew blank. Was there, then, to be no escape? Must he actually take
-another man’s bride with him in order to get away? And how was he to
-get away from her? Where was the real bridegroom and why did he not
-appear upon the scene? And yet what complications that might bring up.
-He began to look wildly about for a chance to flee at once, for how
-could he possibly run away with a bride on his hands? If only some one
-were going with them to the station he could slip away with a clear
-conscience, leaving her in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill, and
-distressed was out of the question. He had rid himself of a lonely dog
-and a suffering child, though it gave him anguish to do the deed, but
-leave this lovely woman for whom he at least appeared to have become
-responsible, he could not, until he was sure she would come to no harm
-through him.
-
-“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-
-It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for an instant since it
-began, but had chimed its changes through music, ceremony, prayer
-and reception without interruption. It acted like a goad upon his
-conscience now. He must do something that would set him free to go back
-to Washington. An inspiration came to him.
-
-“Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with us?” he asked the young
-man, “I am sure your sister would like to have you.”
-
-The boy’s face lit up joyfully.
-
-“Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully, and--if it’s all the same
-to you, I wish Mother could go too. It’s the first time Celia and she
-were ever separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have to say
-good-by with the house full of folks this way. But she doesn’t expect
-it of course, and really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen
-Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip----”
-
-“There will be plenty of time for us,” said the compulsory bridegroom
-graciously, and felt as if he had perjured himself. It was not in his
-nature to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind.
-
-“I shall be glad to have you both come,” he added earnestly. “I really
-want you. Tell your mother.”
-
-The boy grasped his hand impulsively:
-
-“I say,” said he, “you’re all right! I don’t mind confessing that I’ve
-hated the very thought of you for a whole three months, ever since
-Celia told us she had promised to marry you. You see, I never really
-knew you when I was a little chap, but I didn’t used to like you. I
-took an awful scunner to you for some reason. I suppose kids often
-take irrational dislikes like that. But ever since I’ve laid eyes on
-you to-night, I’ve liked you all the way through. I like your eyes.
-It isn’t a bit as I thought I remembered you. I used to think your
-eyes had a sort of deceitful look. Awful to tell you, isn’t it? But I
-felt as if I wanted to have it off my conscience, for I see now you’re
-nothing of the kind. You’ve got the honestest eyes I ever saw on a man,
-and I’d stake my last cent that you wouldn’t cheat a church mouse.
-You’re true as steel, and I’m mighty glad you’re my brother-in-law. I
-know you’ll be good to Celia.”
-
-The slow color mounted under his disguise until it reached Gordon’s
-burnished brown hair. His eyes were honest eyes. They had always been
-so--until to-day. Into what a world of deceit he had entered! How he
-would like to make a clean breast of it all to this nice, frank boy;
-but he must not! for there was his trust! For an instant he was on the
-point of trying to explain that he was not the true bridegroom, and
-getting young Jefferson to help him to set matters right, but an influx
-of newly arrived guests broke in upon their privacy, and he could only
-press the boy’s hand and say in embarrassed tones:
-
-“Thank you! I shall try to be worthy of your good opinion hereafter!”
-
-It was over at last, and the bride slipped from his side to prepare
-for the journey. He looked hastily around, feeling that his very first
-opportunity had come for making an escape. If an open window had
-presented itself, he would have vaulted through, trusting to luck and
-his heels to get away, but there was no window, and every door was
-blocked by staring, admiring, smirking people. He bethought himself of
-the fire-escape where waited his hat and coat, and wondered if he could
-find it.
-
-With smiling apologies, he broke away from those around him, murmuring
-something about being needed, and worked his way firmly but steadily
-toward the stairs and thence to the back halls. Coming at last upon an
-open window, he slipped through, his heart beating wildly. He thought
-for a second that he was there ahead of the others; but a dark form
-loomed ahead and he perceived some one coming up from outside. Another
-second, and he saw it was his newly acquired brother-in-law.
-
-“Say, this is great!” was his greeting. “How did you manage to find
-your way up alone? I was just coming down after you. I wanted to leave
-you there till the last minute so no one would suspect, but now you
-are here we can hustle off at once. I just took Mother and Celia down.
-It was pretty stiff for Mother to climb down, for she was a little
-bit afraid, but she was game all right, and she was so pleased to go.
-They’re waiting for us down there in the court. Here, let me help you
-with your overcoat. Now I’ll pull down this window, so no one will
-suspect us and follow. That’s all right now, come on! You go ahead.
-Just hold on to the railing and go slow. I’ll keep close to you. I know
-the way in my sleep. I’ve played fire here many a year, and could climb
-down in my sleep.”
-
-Gordon found himself wishing that this delightful brother-in-law were
-really his. There was evidently to be no opportunity of escape here. He
-meditated making a dash and getting away in the dark when they should
-reach the foot of the stairs; much as he hated to leave that way, he
-felt he must do so if there was any chance for him at all; but when
-they reached the ground he saw that was hopeless. The car that was
-to take them to the station was drawn up close to the spot, and the
-chauffeur stood beside it.
-
-“Your mother says fer you to hurry, Mister Jefferson,” he called in a
-sepulchral tone. “They’re coming out around the block to watch. Get in
-as quick as you can.”
-
-The burly chauffeur stood below Gordon, helped him to alight on his
-feet from the fire-escape, and hustled him into the darkness of the
-conveyance.
-
-They were very quiet until they had left the dark court and were
-speeding away down the avenue. Then the bride’s mother laid two gentle
-hands upon Gordon’s, leaning across from her seat to do so, and said:
-
-“My son, I shall never forget this of you, never! It was dear of you to
-give me this last few minutes with my darling!”
-
-Gordon, deeply touched and much put to it for words, mumbled something
-about being very glad to have her, and Jefferson relieved the situation
-by pouring forth a volume of information and questions, fortunately not
-pausing long enough to have the latter answered. The bride sat with one
-hand clasped in her mother’s, and said not a word. Gordon was haunted
-by the thought of tears in her eyes.
-
-There was little opportunity for thinking, but Gordon made a hasty
-plan. He decided to get his party all out to the train and then
-remember his suit-case, which he had left checked in the station.
-Jefferson would probably insist upon going for it but he would insist
-more strenuously that the brother and sister would want to have
-this last minute together. Then he could get away in the crowd and
-disappear, coming later for his suit-case perhaps, or sending a porter
-from his own train for it. The only drawback to this arrangement was
-that it seemed a dishonorable way to leave these people who would
-in the nature of things be left in a most trying position by his
-disappearance, especially the sad little bride. But it could not be
-helped, and his staying would only complicate things still further,
-for he would have to explain who he was, and that was practically
-impossible on account of his commission. It would not do to run risks
-with himself until his mission was accomplished and his message
-delivered. After that he could confess and make whatever reparation a
-man in his strange position could render.
-
-The plan worked very well. The brother of course eagerly urged that he
-be allowed to go back for the suit-case, but Gordon, with well-feigned
-thoughtfulness, said in a low tone:
-
-“Your sister will want you for a minute all to herself.”
-
-A tender look came into the boy’s eyes, and he turned back smiling
-to the stateroom where his mother and sister were having a wordless
-farewell. Gordon jumped from the train and sprinted down the platform,
-feeling meaner than he ever remembered to have felt in his whole
-life, and with a strange heaviness about his heart. He forgot for the
-moment that there was need for him to be on his guard against possible
-detectives sent by Mr. Holman. Even the importance of the message
-he carried seemed to weigh less, now that he was free. His feet had
-a strange unwillingness to hurry, and without a constant pressure of
-the will would have lagged in spite of him. His heart wanted to let
-suit-case and commission and everything else go to the winds and take
-him back to the stateroom where he had left his sorrowful bride of
-an hour. She was not his, and he might not go, but he knew that he
-would never be the same hereafter. He would always be wondering where
-she was, wishing he could have saved her from whatever troubled her;
-wishing she were his bride, and not another’s.
-
-He passed back through the station gate, and a man in evening clothes
-eyed him sharply. He fancied he saw a resemblance to one of the men
-at the Holman dinner-table, but he dared not look again lest a glance
-should cost him recognition. He wondered blindly which way he should
-take, and if it would be safe to risk going at once to the checking
-window, or whether he ought to go in hiding until he was sure young
-Jefferson would no longer look for him. Then a hand touched his
-shoulder and a voice that was strangely welcome shouted:
-
-“This way, George! The checking place is over to the right!”
-
-He turned and there stood Jefferson, smiling and panting:
-
-“You see, the little mother had something to say to Celia alone, so I
-saw I was _de trop_, and thought I better come with you,” he declared
-as soon as he could get his breath.
-
-“Gee, but you can run!” added the panting youth. “What’s the hurry?
-It’s ten whole minutes before the train leaves. I couldn’t waste all
-that time kicking my heels on the platform, when I might be enjoying
-my new brother-in-law’s company. I say, are you really going to live
-permanently in Chicago? I do wish you’d decide to come back to New
-York. Mother’ll miss Celia no end. I don’t know how she’s going to
-stand it.”
-
-Walking airily by Gordon’s side, he talked, apparently not noticing the
-sudden start and look of mingled anxiety and relief that overspread
-his brother-in-law’s countenance. Then another man walked by them
-and turning looked in their faces. Gordon was sure this was the
-thick-set man from Holman’s. He was eying Gordon keenly. Suddenly all
-other questions stepped into the background, and the only immediate
-matter that concerned him was his message, to get it safely to its
-destination. With real relief he saw that this had been his greatest
-concern all the time, underneath all hindrances, and that there had
-not been at any moment any escape from the crowding circumstances other
-than that he had taken, step by step. If he had been beset by thieves
-and blackguards, and thrown into prison for a time he would not have
-felt shame at the delay, for those things he could not help. He saw
-with new illumination that there was no more shame to him from these
-trivial and peculiar circumstances with which he had been hemmed in
-since his start to New York than if he had been checked by any more
-tragic obstacles. His only real misgiving was about his marriage.
-Somehow it seemed his fault, and he felt there ought to be some way
-to confess his part at once--but how--without putting his message in
-jeopardy--for no one would believe unless they knew all.
-
-But the time of danger was at hand, he plainly saw. The man whom he
-dared not look closely at had turned again and was walking parallel to
-them, glancing now and again keenly in their direction. He was watching
-Gordon furtively; not a motion escaped him.
-
-There was a moment’s delay at the checking counter while the attendant
-searched for the suit-case, and Gordon was convinced that the man had
-stopped a few steps away merely for the purpose of watching him.
-
-He dared not look around or notice the man, but he was sure he followed
-them back to the train. He felt his presence as clearly as if he had
-been able to see through the back of his head.
-
-But Gordon was cool and collected now. It was as if the experiences
-of the last two hours, with their embarrassing predicaments, had been
-wiped off the calendar, and he were back at the moment when he left
-the Holman house. He knew as well as if he had watched them follow him
-that they had discovered his--theft--treachery--whatever it ought to be
-called--and he was being searched for; and because of what was at stake
-those men would track him to death if they could. But he knew also
-that his disguise and his companion were for the moment puzzling this
-sleuth-hound.
-
-This was probably not the only watcher about the station. There were
-detectives, too, perhaps, hired hastily, and all too ready to seize a
-suspect.
-
-He marvelled that he could walk so deliberately, swinging his suit-case
-in his gloved hand at so momentous a time. He smiled and talked easily
-with the pleasant fellow who walked by his side, and answered his
-questions with very little idea of what he was saying; making promises
-which his heart would like to keep, but which he now saw no way of
-making good.
-
-Thus they entered the train and came to the car where the bride and her
-mother waited. There were tears on the face of the girl, and she turned
-to the window to hide them. Gordon’s eyes followed her wistfully, and
-down through the double glass, unnoticed by her absent gaze, he saw the
-face of the man who had followed them, sharply watching him.
-
-Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he kept it on in spite
-of the presence of the ladies. The color rose in his cheeks that he had
-to seem so discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he insisted
-that he be allowed to take the elder lady to the platform, as it really
-was almost time for the train to start, and so he went deliberately out
-to act the part of bridegroom in the face of his recognized foe.
-
-The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on the vestibule platform,
-while Jefferson bade his sister good-by and tried to soothe her
-distress at parting from her mother.
-
-“He’s all right, Celie, indeed he is,” said the young fellow
-caressingly, laying his hand upon his sister’s bowed head. “He’s going
-to be awfully good to you; he cares a lot for you, and he’s promised
-to do all sorts of nice things. He says he’ll bring you back soon, and
-he would never stand in the way of your being with us a lot. He did
-indeed! What do you think of that? Isn’t it quite different from what
-you thought he would say? He doesn’t seem to think he’s got to spend
-the rest of his days in Chicago either. He says there might something
-turn up that would make it possible for him to change all his plans.
-Isn’t that great?”
-
-Celia tried to look up and smile through her tears, while the man
-outside studied the situation a moment in perplexity and then strolled
-slowly back to watch Gordon and the elder woman.
-
-“You will be good to my little girl,” he heard the woman’s voice
-pleading. “She has always been guarded, and she will miss us all, even
-though she has you.” The voice went through Gordon like a knife. To
-stand much more of this and not denounce himself for a blackguard would
-be impossible. Neither could he keep his hat on in the presence of this
-wonderful motherhood, a motherhood that appealed to him all the more
-that he had never known a mother of his own, and had always longed for
-one.
-
-He put up his hand and lifted his hat slightly, guarding as much as
-possible his own face from the view of the man on the station platform,
-who was still walking deliberately, considerately, up and down, often
-passing near enough to hear what they were saying. In this reverent
-attitude, Gordon said, as though he were uttering a sacred vow:
-
-“I will guard her as if she were--as if I were--as if I
-were--_you_”--then he paused a moment and added solemnly,
-tenderly--“Mother!”
-
-He wondered if it were not desecration to utter such words when all
-the time he was utterly unable to perform them in the way in which the
-mother meant. “Impostor!” was the word which rang in his ears now. The
-clamor about being hindered had ceased, for he was doing his best, and
-not letting even a woman’s happiness stand in the way of his duty.
-
-Yet his heart had dictated the words he had spoken, while his mind and
-judgment were busy with his perilous position. He could not gainsay his
-heart, for he felt that in every way he could he would guard and care
-for the girl who was to be in his keeping at least for a few minutes
-until he could contrive some way to get her back to her friends without
-him.
-
-The whistle of the train was sounding now, and the brakemen were
-shouting, “All aboard!”
-
-He helped the frail little elderly woman down the steps, and she
-reached up her face to kiss him. He bent and took the caress, the first
-time that a woman’s lips had touched his face since he was a little
-child.
-
-“Mother, I will not let anything harm her,” he whispered, and she said:
-
-“My boy, I can trust you!”
-
-Then he put her into the care of her strong young son, swung upon the
-train as the wheels began to move, and hurried back to the bride. On
-the platform, walking beside the train, he still saw the man. Going to
-the weeping girl, Gordon stooped over her gently, touched her on the
-shoulder, and drew the window shade down. The last face he saw outside
-was the face of the baffled man, who was turning back, but what for?
-Was he going to report to others, and would there perhaps be another
-stop before they left the city, where officers or detectives might
-board the train? He ought to be ready to get off and run for his life
-if there was. There seemed no way but to fee the porter to look after
-his companion, and leave her, despicable as it seemed! Yet his soul of
-honor told him he could never do that, no matter what was at stake.
-
-Then, without warning a new situation was thrust upon him. The bride,
-who had been standing with bowed head and with her handkerchief up to
-her eyes, just as her brother had left her, tottered and fell into
-his arms, limp and white. Instantly all his senses were called into
-action, and he forgot the man on the platform, forgot the possible
-next stop in the city, and the explanation he had been about to make
-to the girl; forgot even the importance of his mission, and the
-fact that the train he was on was headed toward Chicago, instead of
-Washington; forgot everything but the fact that the loveliest girl he
-had ever seen, with the saddest look a human face might wear, was lying
-apparently lifeless in his arms.
-
-Outside the window the man had turned back and was now running
-excitedly along with the train trying to see into the window; and
-down the platform, not ten yards behind, came a frantic man with
-English-looking clothes, a heavy mustache and goatee, shaggy eyebrows,
-and a sensual face, striding angrily along as fast as his heavy body
-would carry him.
-
-But Gordon saw none of them.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-
-Five hours before, the man who was hurling himself furiously after the
-rapidly retreating train had driven calmly through the city, from the
-pier of the White Star Line to the apartment of a man whom he had met
-abroad, and who had offered him the use of it during his absence. The
-rooms were in the fourth story of a fine apartment house. The returning
-exile noted with satisfaction the irreproachable neighborhood, as he
-slowly descended from the carriage, paid his fee, and entered the door,
-to present his letter of introduction to the janitor in charge.
-
-His first act was to open the steamer trunk which he had brought with
-him in the cab, and take therefrom his wedding garments. These he
-carefully arranged on folding hangers and hung in the closet, which was
-otherwise empty save for a few boxes piled on the high shelf.
-
-Then he hastened to the telephone and communicated with his best man,
-Jefferson Hathaway; told him the boat was late arriving at the dock,
-but that he was here at last; gave him a few directions concerning
-errands he would like to have done, and agreed to be at the church a
-half-hour earlier than the time set for the ceremony, to be shown just
-what arrangements had been made. He was told that his bride was feeling
-very tired and was resting, and agreed that it would be as well not
-to disturb her; they would have time enough to talk afterwards; there
-really wasn’t anything to say but what he had already written. And he
-would have about all he could do to get there on time as it was. He
-asked if Jefferson had called for the ring he had ordered and if the
-carriage would be sent for him in time and then without formalities
-closed the interview. He and Jefferson were not exactly fond of one
-another, though Jefferson was the beloved brother of his bride-to-be.
-
-He hung up the receiver and rang for a brandy and soda to brace himself
-for the coming ordeal which was to bind to him a woman whom for years
-he had been trying to get in his power and whom he might have loved if
-she had not dared to scorn him for the evil that she knew was in him.
-At last he had found a way to subdue her and bring her with her ample
-fortune to his feet and he felt the exultation of the conqueror as he
-went about his preparations for the evening.
-
-He made a smug and leisurely toilet, with a smile of satisfaction upon
-his flabby face. He was naturally a selfish person and had always known
-how to make other people attend to all bothersome details for him
-while he enjoyed himself. He was quite comfortable and self-complacent
-as he posed a moment before the mirror to smooth his mustache and note
-how well he was looking. Then he went to the closet for his coat.
-
-It was most peculiar, the way it happened, but somehow, as he stepped
-into that closet to take down his coat, which hung at the back where
-the space was widest, the opening at the wrist of his shirt-sleeve
-caught for just an instant in the little knob of the closet latch. The
-gold button which held the cuff to the wristband slipped its hold,
-and the man was free almost at once, but the angry twitch he had
-made at the slight detention had given the door an impetus which set
-it silently moving on its hinges. (It was characteristic of George
-Hayne that he was always impatient of the slightest detention.) He
-had scarcely put his hand upon his wedding coat when a soft steel
-click, followed by utter darkness, warned him that his impatience had
-entrapped him. He put out his hand and pushed at the door, but the
-catch had settled into place. It was a very strong, neat little catch,
-and it did its work well. The man was a prisoner.
-
-At first he was only annoyed, and gave the door an angry kick or two,
-as if of course it would presently release him meekly; but then he
-bethought him of his polished wedding shoes, and desisted. He tried to
-find a knob and shake the door, but the only knob was the tiny brass
-one on the outside of the catch, and you cannot shake a plain surface
-reared up before you. Then he set his massive, flabby shoulder against
-the door and pressed with all his might, till his bulky linen shirt
-front creaked with dismay, and his wedding collar wilted limply. But
-the door stood like adamant. It was massive, like the man, but it was
-not flabby. The wood of which it was composed had spent its early life
-in the open air, drinking only the wine of sunshine and sparkling air,
-wet with the dews of heaven, and exercising against the north blast. It
-was nothing for it to hold out against this pillow of a man, who had
-been nurtured in the dissipation and folly of a great city. The door
-held its own, and if doors do such things, the face of it must have
-laughed to the silent room; and who knows but the room winked back? It
-would be but natural that a room should resent a new occupant in the
-absence of a beloved owner.
-
-He was there, safe and fast, in the still dark, with plenty of time
-for reflection. And there were things in his life that called for his
-reflection. They had never had him at an advantage before.
-
-In due course of time, having exhausted his breath and strength in
-fruitless pushing, and his vocabulary in foolish curses, he lifted up
-his voice and roared. No other word would quite describe the sound that
-issued from his mighty throat. But the city roared placidly below him,
-and no one minded him in the least.
-
-He sacrificed the shiny toes of the shoes and added resounding kicks
-on the door to the general hubbub. He changed the roar to a bellow
-like a mad bull, but still the silence that succeeded it was as deep
-and monotonous as ever. He tried going to the back of the closet and
-hurling himself against the door, but he only hurt his soft muscles
-with the effort. Finally he sat down on the floor of the closet.
-
-Now, the janitor’s wife, who occupied an apartment somewhat
-overcrowded, had surreptitiously borrowed the use of this closet the
-week before, in order to hang therein her Sunday gown, whose front
-breadth was covered with grease-spots, thickly overlaid with French
-chalk. The French chalk had done its work and removed the grease-spots,
-and now lay thickly on the floor of the closet, but the imprisoned
-bridegroom did not know that, and he sat down quite naturally to rest
-from his unusual exertions, and to reflect on what could be done next.
-
-The immediate present passed rapidly in review. He could not afford
-more than ten minutes to get out of this hole. He ought to be on the
-way to the church at once. There was no knowing what nonsense Celia
-might get into her head if he delayed. He had known her since her
-childhood, and she had always scorned him. The hold he had upon her now
-was like a rope of sand, but only he knew that. If he could but knock
-that old door down! If he only hadn’t hung up his coat in the closet!
-If the man who built the house only hadn’t put such a fool catch on the
-door! When he got out he would take time to chop it off! If only he had
-a little more room, and a little more air! It was stifling! Great beads
-of perspiration went rolling down his hot forehead, and his wet collar
-made a cool band about his neck. He wondered if he had another clean
-collar of that particular style with him. If he _only_ could get out of
-this accursed place! Where were all the people? Why was everything so
-still? Would they never come and let him out?
-
-He reflected that he had told the janitor he would occupy the room with
-his baggage for two or three weeks perhaps, but he expected to go away
-on a trip this very evening. The janitor would not think it strange
-if he did not appear. How would it be to stay here and die? Horrible
-thought!
-
-He jumped up from the floor and began his howlings and gyrations once
-more, but soon desisted, and sat down to be entertained by a panorama
-of his past life which is always unpleasantly in evidence at such
-times. Fine and clear in the darkness of the closet stood out the
-nicely laid scheme of deviltry by which he had contrived to be at last
-within reach of a coveted fortune.
-
-Occasionally would come the frantic thought that just through this
-little mishap of a foolish clothespress catch he might even yet lose
-it. The fraud and trickery by which he had an heiress in his power
-did not trouble him so much as the thought of losing her--at least of
-losing the fortune. He must have that fortune, for he was deep in debt,
-and--but then he would refuse to think, and get up to batter at his
-prison door again.
-
-Four hours his prison walls enclosed him, with inky blackness all
-around save for a faint glimmer of light, which marked the well-fitted
-base of the door as the night outside drew on. He had lighted the gas
-when he began dressing, for the room had already been filled with
-shadows, and now, it began to seem as if that streak of flickering gas
-light was the only thing that saved him from losing his mind.
-
-Somewhere from out of the dim shadows a face evolved itself and gazed
-at him, a haggard face with piercing hollow eyes and despair written
-upon it. It reproached him with a sin he thought long-forgotten. He
-shrank back in horror and the cold perspiration stood out upon his
-forehead, for the eyes were the eyes of the man whose name he had
-forged upon a note involving trust money fifteen years before; and the
-man, a quiet, kindly, unsuspecting creature had suffered the penalty in
-a prison cell until his death some five years ago.
-
-Sometimes at night in the first years after his crime, that face had
-haunted him, appearing at odd intervals when he was plotting some
-particularly shady means of adding to his income, until he had resolved
-to turn over a new leaf, and actually gave up one or two schemes as
-being too unscrupulous to be indulged in, thus acquiring a comforting
-feeling of being virtuous. But it was long since the face had come.
-He had settled it in his mind that the forgery was merely a patch of
-wild oats which he had sown in his youth, something to be regretted but
-not too severely blamed for, and thus forgiving himself he had grown
-to feel that it was more the world’s fault for not giving him what
-he wanted than his own for putting a harmless old man in prison. Of
-the shame that had killed the old man he knew nothing, nor could have
-understood. The actual punishment itself was all that appealed to him.
-He was ever one that had to be taught with the lash, and then only
-kept straight while it was in sight.
-
-But the face was very near and vivid here in the thick darkness. It
-was like a cell, this closet, bare, cold, black. The eyes in the gloom
-seemed to pierce him with the thought: “This is what you made me
-suffer. It is your turn now. IT IS YOUR TURN NOW!” Nearer and nearer
-they came looking into his own, until they saw down into his very soul,
-his little sinful soul, and drew back appalled at the littleness and
-meanness of what they saw.
-
-Then for the first time in his whole selfish life George Hayne knew any
-shame, for the eyes read forth to him all that they had seen, and how
-it looked to them; and beside the tale they told the eyes were clean of
-sin and almost glad in spite of suffering wrongfully.
-
-Closer and thicker grew the air of the small closet; fiercer grew the
-rage and shame and horror of the man incarcerated.
-
-Now, from out the shadows there looked other eyes, eyes that had never
-haunted him before; eyes of victims to whom he had never cast a half a
-thought. Eyes of men and women he had robbed by his artful, gentlemanly
-craft; eyes of innocent girls whose wrecked lives had contributed to
-his selfish scheme of living; even the great reproachful eyes of
-little children who had looked to him for pity and found none. Last,
-above them all were the eyes of the lovely girl he was to have married.
-
-He had always loved Celia Hathaway more than he could have loved anyone
-or anything else besides himself, and it had eaten into his very being
-that he never could make her bow to him; not even by torture could he
-bring her to her knees. Stung by the years of her scorn he had stooped
-lower and lower in his methods of dealing with her until he had come
-at last to employ the tools of slow torture to her soul that he might
-bring low her pride and put her fortune and her scornful self within
-his power. The strength with which she had withheld him until the
-time of her surrender had turned his selfish love into a hate with
-contemplations of revenge.
-
-But now her eyes glowed scornfully, wreathed round with bridal white,
-and seemed to taunt him with his foolish defeat at this the last minute
-before the final triumph.
-
-Undoubtedly the brandy he had taken had gone to his head. Was he going
-mad that he could not get away from all these terrible eyes?
-
-He felt sure he was dying when at last the janitor came up to the
-fourth floor on his round of inspection, noticed the light flaring
-from the transom over the door occupied by the stranger who had said
-he was going to leave on a trip almost immediately, and went in to
-investigate. The eyes vanished at his step. The man in the closet lost
-no time in making his presence known, and the janitor, cautiously,
-and with great deliberation made careful investigation of the cause
-and reason for this disturbance and finally let him out, after having
-received promise of reward which never materialized.
-
-The stranger flew to the telephone in frantic haste, called up the
-house of his affianced bride, shouting wildly at the operator for all
-undue delays, and when finally he succeeded in getting some one to the
-’phone it was only to be told that neither Mrs. Hathaway nor her son
-were there. Were they at the church? “Oh, no,” the servant answered,
-“they came back from the church long ago. There is a wedding in the
-house, and a great many people. They are making so much noise I can’t
-hear. Speak louder please!”
-
-He shouted and raved at the servant, asking futile questions and
-demanding information, but the louder he raved the less the servant
-understood and finally he hung up the receiver and dashed about the
-room like an insane creature, tearing off his wilted collar, grabbing
-at another, jerking on his fine coat, searching vainly for his cuffs,
-snatching his hat and overcoat, and making off down the stairs;
-breathlessly, regardless of the demand of the janitor for the fee of
-freedom he had been promised.
-
-Out in the street he rushed hither and thither blindly in search of
-some conveyance, found a taxicab at last, and, plunging in, ordered it
-to go at once to the Hathaway address.
-
-Arrived there, he presented an enlivening spectacle to the guests, who
-were still making merry. His trousers were covered with French chalk,
-his collar had slipped from its confining button in front and curved
-gracefully about one fat cheek, his high hat was a crush indeed, having
-been rammed down to his head in his excitement. He talked so fast and
-so loud that they thought he was crazy and tried to put him out, but he
-shook his fist angrily in the face of the footman and demanded to know
-where Miss Hathaway was? When they told him she was married and gone,
-he turned livid with wrath and told them that that was impossible, as
-he was the bridegroom.
-
-By this time the guests had gathered in curious groups in the hall and
-on the stairs, listening, and when he claimed to be the bridegroom they
-shouted with laughter, thinking this must be some practical joke or
-else that the man was insane. But one older gentleman, a friend of the
-family, stepped up to the excited visitor and said in a quieting voice:
-
-“My friend, you have made a mistake! Miss Hathaway has this evening
-been married to Mr. George Hayne, just arrived from abroad, and they
-are at this moment on their way to take the train. You have come too
-late to see her, or else you have the wrong address, and are speaking
-of some other Miss Hathaway. That is very likely the explanation.”
-
-George looked around on the company with helpless rage, then rushed to
-his taxicab and gave the order for the station.
-
-Arriving at the station, he saw it was within half a minute of the
-departure of the Chicago train, and none knew better than he what time
-that train had been going to depart. Had he not given minute directions
-regarding the arrangements to his future brother-in-law? What did it
-all mean anyway? Had Celia managed somehow to carry out the wedding
-without him to hide her mortification at his non-appearance? Or had she
-run away? He was too excited to use his reason. He could merely urge
-his heavy bulk onward toward the fast fleeting train; and dashed up
-the platform, overcoat streaming from his arm, coat-tails flying, hat
-crushed down upon his head, his fat, bechalked legs rumbling heavily
-after him. He passed Jefferson and his mother; watching tearfully,
-lingeringly, the retreating train. Jefferson laughed at the funny
-spectacle, but the mother did not notice and only said absently: “I
-think he’ll be good to her, don’t you, Jeff? He has nice eyes. I don’t
-remember that his eyes used to seem so pleasant, and so--deferential.”
-Then they turned to go back to their car, and the train moved faster
-and faster out of the station. It would presently rush away out into
-the night, leaving the two pursuers to face each other, baffled.
-
-Both realized this at the same instant and the short, thick-set man
-with sudden decision turned again and plunging along with the train
-caught at the rail and swung himself with dangerous precipitation to
-the last platform of the last car with a half-frightened triumph.
-Looking back he saw the other man with a frantic effort sprint forward,
-trying to do the same thing, and failing in the attempt, sprawl flat on
-the platform, to the intense amusement of a couple of trainmen standing
-near.
-
-George Hayne, having thus come to a full stop in his headlong career,
-lay prostrate for a moment, stunned and shaken; then gathered himself
-up slowly and stood gazing after the departing train. After all, if he
-had caught it what could he have done? It was incredible that Celia
-could have got herself married and gone on her wedding trip without
-him. If she had eloped with some one else and they were on that train
-what could he have done? Kill the bridegroom and force the bride to
-return with him and be married over again? Yes, but that might have
-been a trifle awkward after all, and he had enough awkward situations
-to his account already. Besides, it wasn’t in the least likely that
-Celia was married yet. Those people at the house had been fooled
-somehow, and she had run away. Perhaps her mother and brother were gone
-with her. The same threats that had made her bend to him once should
-follow her wherever she had gone. She would marry him yet and pay for
-this folly a hundred fold. He lifted a shaking hand of execration
-toward the train which by this time was vanishing into the dark opening
-at the end of the station, where signal lights like red berries
-festooned themselves in an arch against the blackness, and the lights
-of the last car paled and vanished like a forgotten dream.
-
-Then he turned and hobbled slowly back to the gates regardless of the
-merriment he was arousing in the genial trainmen; for he was spent
-and bruised, and his appearance was anything but dignified. No member
-of the wedding company had they seen him at this juncture would have
-recognized in him any resemblance to the handsome gentleman who had
-played his part in the wedding ceremony. No one would have thought it
-possible that he could be Celia Hathaway’s bridegroom.
-
-Slowly back to the gate he crept, haggard, dishevelled, crestfallen;
-his hair in its several isolated locks downfallen over his forehead,
-his collar wilted, his clothes smeared with chalk and dust, his
-overcoat dragging forlornly behind him. He was trying to decide what
-to do next, and realizing the torment of a perpetual thirst, when a
-hand was laid suddenly upon him and a voice that somehow had a familiar
-twang, said: “You will come with me, sir.”
-
-He looked up and there before him in the flesh were the eyes of the man
-who had haunted him for years, the very eyes grown younger, and filled
-with more than reproach. They were piercing him with the keenness of
-retribution. They said, as plainly as those eyes in the closet had
-spoken but a brief hour before: “Your time is over. My time has come.
-You have sinned. You shall suffer. Come now and meet your reward.”
-
-He started back in horror. His hands trembled and his brain reeled. He
-wished for another cocktail to help him to meet this most extraordinary
-emergency. Surely, something had happened to his nerves that he was
-seeing these eyes in reality, and hearing the voice, that old man’s
-voice made young, bidding him come with him. It could not be, of
-course. He was unnerved with all he had been through. The man had
-mistaken him for some one--or perhaps it was not a man after all. He
-glanced quickly around to see if others saw him, and at once became
-aware that a crowd was collecting about them.
-
-The man with the strange eyes and the familiar voice was dressed in
-plain clothes, but he seemed to have full assurance that he was a real
-live man and had a right to dictate. George Hayne could not shake away
-his grasp. There was a determination about it that struck terror to his
-soul, and he had a weak desire to scream and hide his eyes. Could he be
-coming down with delirium tremens? That brandy must have been unusually
-strong to have lasted so long in its effects. Then he made a weak
-effort to speak, but his voice sounded small and frightened. The eyes
-took his assurance from him.
-
-“Who are you?” he asked, and meant to add, “What right have _you_
-to dictate to _me_?” but the words died away in his throat, for the
-plainclothes man had opened his coat and disclosed a badge that shone
-with a sinister light straight into his eyes.
-
-“I am Norman Brand,” answered the voice, “and I want you for what you
-did to my father. It is time you paid your debt. You were the cause
-of his humiliation and death. I have been watching for you for years.
-I saw the notice of your wedding in the paper and was tracking you. It
-was for this I entered the service. Come with me.”
-
-With a cry of horror George Hayne wrenched away from his captor and
-turned to flee, but instantly three revolvers were levelled at him, and
-he found that two policemen in brass buttons were stationed behind him,
-and the crowd closed in about him. Wherever he turned it was to look
-into the barrel of a gun, and there was no escape in any direction.
-
-They led him away to the patrol wagon, the erstwhile bridegroom, and
-in place of the immaculate linen he had searched so frantically for in
-his apartment they put upon his wrists cuffs of iron. They put him in a
-cell and left him with eyes of the old man for company and the haunting
-likeness of his son’s voice filling him with frenzy. The unquenchable
-thirst came upon him and he begged for brandy and soda, but none came
-to slake his thirst, for he had crossed the great gulf and justice at
-last had him in her grasp.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-
-Meantime the man on the steps of the last car of the Chicago Limited
-was having his doubts about whether he ought to have boarded that
-train. He realized that the fat traveller who was hurling himself after
-the train had stirred in him a sudden impulse which had been only half
-formed before and he had obeyed it. Perhaps he was following a wrong
-scent and would lose the reward which he knew was his if he brought the
-thief of the code-writing, dead or alive, to his employer. He was half
-inclined to jump off again now before it was too late; but looking down
-he saw they were already speeding over a network of tracks, and trains
-were flying by in every direction. By the time they were out of this
-the speed would be too great for him to attempt a jump. It was even now
-risky, and he was heavy for athletics. He must do it at once if he did
-it at all.
-
-He looked ahead tentatively to see if the track on which he must jump
-was clear, and the great eye of an engine stabbed him in the face, as
-it bore down upon him. The next instant it swept by, its hot breath
-fanning his cheek, and he drew back shuddering involuntarily. It was of
-no use. He could not jump here. Perhaps they would slow up or stop,
-and anyway, should he jump or stay on board?
-
-He sat down on the upper step the better to get the situation in hand.
-Perhaps in a minute more the way would be clearer to jump off if he
-decided not to go on. Thus he vacillated. It was rather unlike him not
-to know his own mind.
-
-It seemed as if there must be something here to follow, and yet,
-perhaps he was mistaken. He had been the first man of the company at
-the front door after Mr. Holman turned the paper over, and they all had
-noticed the absence of the red mark. It had been simultaneous with the
-clicking of the door-latch and he had covered the ground from his seat
-to the door sooner than anyone else. He could swear he had seen the
-man get into the cab that stood almost in front of the house. He had
-lost no time in getting into his own car which was detailed for such
-an emergency, and in signalling the officer on a motor-cycle who was
-also ready for a quick call. The carriage had barely turned the corner
-when they followed, there was no other of the kind in sight either way
-but that, and he had followed it closely. It must have been the right
-carriage. And yet, when the man got out at the church he was changed,
-much changed in appearance, so that he had looked twice into the empty
-carriage to make sure that the man for whom he searched was not still
-in there hiding. Then he had followed him into the church and seen him
-married; stood close at hand when he put his bride into a big car, and
-he had followed the car to the house where the reception was held; even
-mingling with the guests and watching until the bridal couple left for
-the train. He had stood in the alley in the shadow, the only one of the
-guests who had found how the bride was really going away, and again he
-had followed to the station.
-
-He had walked close enough to the bridegroom in the station to be
-almost sure that mustache and those heavy eyebrows were false; and yet
-he could not make it out. How could it be possible that a man who was
-going to be married in a great church full of fashionable people would
-so dare to flirt with chance as to accept an invitation to a dinner
-where he might not be able to get away for hours? What would have
-happened if he had not got there in time? Was it in the least possible
-that these two men could be identical? Everything but the likeness
-and the fact that he had followed the man so closely pointed out the
-impossibility.
-
-The thick-set man was accustomed to trust his inner impressions
-thoroughly, and in this case his inner impression was that he must
-watch this peculiar bridegroom and be sure he was not the right man
-before he forever got away from him--and yet--and yet, he might be
-missing the right man by doing it. However, he had come so far, had
-risked a good deal already in following and in throwing himself on
-that fast moving train. He would stay a little longer and find out
-for sure. He would try and get a seat where he could watch him and in
-an hour he ought to be able to tell if he were really the man who had
-stolen the code-writing. If he could avoid the conductor for a time he
-would simply profess to have taken the wrong train by mistake and maybe
-could get put off somewhere near home, in case he discovered that he
-was barking up the wrong tree. He would stick to the train for a little
-yet, inasmuch as there seemed no safe way of getting off at present.
-
-Having decided so much, he gave one last glance toward the twinkling
-lights of the city hurrying past, and getting up sauntered into the
-train, keeping a weather eye out for the conductor. He meant to burn
-no bridges behind him. He was well provided with money for any kind of
-a trip and mileage books and passes. He knew where to send a telegram
-that would bring him instant assistance in case of need, and even now
-he knew the officer on the motor-cycle had reported to his employer
-that he had boarded this train. There was really no immediate need for
-him to worry. It was big game he was after and one must take some risks
-in a case of that sort. Thus he entered the sleeper to make good the
-impression of his inner senses.
-
-Gordon had never held anything so precious, so sweet and beautiful and
-frail-looking, in his arms. He had a feeling that he ought to lay her
-down, yet there was a longing to draw her closer to himself and shield
-her from everything that could trouble her.
-
- * * * * *
-
-But she was not his--only a precious trust to be guarded and cared
-for as vigilantly as the message he carried hidden about his neck;
-she belonged to another, somewhere, and was a sacred trust until
-circumstances made it possible for him to return her to her rightful
-husband. Just what all this might mean to himself, to the woman in
-his arms, and to the man whom she was to have married, Gordon had not
-as yet had time to think. It was as if he had been watching a moving
-picture and suddenly a lot of circumstances had fallen in a heap
-and become all jumbled up together, the result of his own rash but
-unsuspecting steps, the way whole families have in moving pictures of
-falling through a sky-scraper from floor to floor, carrying furniture
-and inhabitants with them as they descend.
-
-He had not as yet been able to disentangle himself from the debris and
-find out what had been his fault and what he ought to do about it.
-
-He laid her gently on the couch of the drawing-room and opened the
-little door of the private dressing-room. There would be cold water in
-there.
-
-He knew very little about caring for sick people--he had always been
-well and strong himself--but cold water was what they used for people
-who had fainted, he was sure. He would not call in anyone to help,
-unless it was absolutely necessary. He pulled the door of the stateroom
-shut, and went after the water. As he passed the mirror, he started at
-the curious vision of himself. One false eyebrow had come loose and
-was hanging over his eye, and his goatee was crooked. Had it been so
-all the time? He snatched the eyebrow off, and then the other; but the
-mustache and goatee were more tightly affixed, and it was very painful
-to remove them. He glanced back, and the white, limp look of the girl
-on the couch frightened him. What was he about, to stop over his
-appearance when she might be dying, and as for pain--he tore the false
-hair roughly from him, and, stuffing it into his pocket, filled a glass
-with water and went back to the couch. His chin and upper lip smarted,
-but he did not notice it, nor know that the mark of the plaster was all
-about his face. He only knew that she lay there apparently lifeless
-before him, and he must bring the soul back into those dear eyes. It
-was strange, wonderful, how his feeling had grown for the girl whom he
-had never seen till three hours before.
-
-He held the glass to her white lips and tried to make her drink, then
-poured water on his handkerchief and awkwardly bathed her forehead.
-Some hairpins slipped loose and a great wealth of golden-brown hair
-fell across his knees as he half knelt beside her. One little hand
-drooped over the side of the couch and touched his. He started! It
-seemed so soft and cold and lifeless.
-
-He blamed himself that he had no remedies in his suit-case. Why had
-he never thought to carry something,--a simple restorative? Other
-people might need it though he did not. No man ought to travel without
-something for the saving of life in an emergency. He might have needed
-it himself even, in case of a railroad accident or something.
-
-He slipped his arm tenderly under her head and tried to raise it so
-that she could drink, but the white lips did not move nor attempt to
-swallow.
-
-Then a panic seized him. Suppose she was dying? Not until later, when
-he had quiet and opportunity for thought, did it occur to him what a
-terrible responsibility he had dared to take upon himself in letting
-her people leave her with him; what a fearful position he would have
-been in if she had really died. At the moment his whole thought was
-one of anguish at the idea of losing her; anxiety to save her precious
-life; and not for himself.
-
-Forgetting his own need of quiet and obscurity, he laid her gently back
-upon the couch again, and rushed from the stateroom out into the aisle
-of the sleeper. The conductor was just making his rounds and he hurried
-to him with a white face.
-
-“Is there a doctor on board, or have you any restoratives? There is a
-lady----” He hesitated and the color rolled freshly into his anxious
-face. “That is--my wife.” He spoke the word unwillingly, having at the
-instant of speaking realized that he must say this to protect her good
-name. It seemed like uttering a falsehood, or stealing another man’s
-property; and yet, technically, it was true, and for her sake at least
-he must acknowledge it.
-
-“My wife,” he began again more connectedly, “is ill--unconscious.”
-
-The conductor looked at him sharply. He had sized them up as a wedding
-party when they came down the platform toward the train. The young
-man’s blush confirmed his supposition.
-
-“I’ll see!” he said briefly. “Go back to her and I’ll bring some one.”
-
-It was just as Gordon turned back that the thick-set man entered the
-car from the other end and met him face to face, but Gordon was too
-distraught at that moment to notice him, for his mind was at rest about
-his pursuer as soon as the train started.
-
-Not so with the pursuer however. His keen little eyes took in the
-white, anxious face, the smear of sticking plaster about the mouth and
-eyebrows, and instantly knew his man. His instincts had not failed him
-after all.
-
-He put out a pair of brawny fists to catch at him, but a lurch of the
-train and Gordon’s swift stride out-purposed him, and by the time the
-little man had righted his footing Gordon was disappearing into the
-stateroom, and the conductor with another man was in the aisle behind
-him waiting to pass. He stepped back and watched. At least he had
-driven his prey to quarry and there was no possible escape now until
-the train stopped. He would watch that door as a cat watches a mouse,
-and perhaps be able to send a telegram for help before he made any move
-at all. It was as well that his impulse to take the man then and there
-had come to naught. What would the other passengers have thought of
-him? He must of course move cautiously. What a blunder he had almost
-made. It was no part of his purpose to make public his errand. The
-men who were behind him did not wish to be known, nor to have their
-business known.
-
-With narrowing eyes he watched the door of the stateroom as the
-conductor and doctor came and went. He gathered from a few questions
-asked by one of the passengers that there was some one sick, probably
-the lady he had seen faint as the train started. It occurred to him
-that this might be his opportunity, and when the conductor came out
-of the drawing-room the second time he inquired if any assistance was
-needed, and implied that doctoring was his profession, though it would
-be a sorry patient that had only his attention. However, if he had one
-accomplishment it was bluffing, and he never stopped at any profession
-that suited his needs.
-
-The conductor was annoyed at the interruptions that had already
-occurred and he answered him brusquely that they had all the help
-necessary and there wasn’t anything the matter anyway.
-
-There was nothing left for the man to do but wait.
-
-He subsided with his eye on the stateroom door, and later secured a
-berth in plain sight of that door, but gave no order to have it made
-up until every other passenger in the car was gone to what rest a
-sleeping-car provides. He kept his vigil well, but was rewarded with
-no sight of his prey that night, and at last with a sense of duty well
-done and the comfortable promise from the conductor that his deftly
-worded telegraphic message to Mr. Holman should be sent from a station
-they passed a little after midnight, he crept to his well-earned rest.
-He was not at home in a dress shirt and collar, being of the walks of
-life where a collar is mostly accounted superfluous, and he was glad
-to be relieved of it for a few hours. It had not yet occurred to him
-that his appearance in that evening suit would be a trifle out of place
-when morning came. It is doubtful if he had ever considered matters of
-dress. His profession was that of a human ferret of the lower order,
-and there were many things he did not know. It might have been the way
-he held his fork at dinner that had made Gordon decide that he was but
-a henchman of the others.
-
-Having put his mind and his body at rest he proceeded to sleep, and the
-train thundered on its way into the night.
-
-Gordon meanwhile had hurried back from his appeal to the conductor, and
-stood looking helplessly down at the delicate girl as she lay there
-so white and seemingly lifeless. Her pretty travelling gown set off
-the exquisite face finely; her glorious hair seemed to crown her. A
-handsome hat had fallen unheeded to the floor, and lay rolling back
-and forth in the aisle with the motion of the train. He picked it up
-reverently, as though it had been a part of her. His face in the few
-minutes had gone haggard.
-
-The conductor hurried in presently, followed by a grave elderly man
-with a professional air. He touched a practised finger to the limp
-wrist, looked closely into the face, and then taking a little bottle
-from a case he carried called for a glass.
-
-The liquid was poured between the closed lips, the white throat
-reluctantly swallowed it, the eyelids presently fluttered, a long
-breath that was scarcely more than a sigh hovered between the lips, and
-then the blue eyes opened.
-
-She looked about, bewildered, looking longest at Gordon, then closed
-her eyes wearily, as if she wished they had not brought her back, and
-lay still.
-
-The physician still knelt beside her, and Gordon, with time now to
-think, began to reflect on the possible consequences of his deeds.
-With anxious face, he stood watching, reflecting bitterly that he
-might not claim even a look of recognition from those sweet eyes,
-and wishing with all his heart that his marriage had been genuine. A
-passing memory of his morning ride to New York in company with Miss
-Bentley’s conjured vision brought wonder to his eyes. It all seemed
-so long ago, and so strange that he ever could have entertained for a
-moment the thought of marrying Julia. She was a good girl of course,
-fine and handsome and all that,--but--and here his eyes sought the
-sweet sad face on the couch, and his heart suffered in a real agony for
-the trouble he saw; and for the trouble he must yet give to her when he
-told her who he was, or rather who he was not; for he must tell her and
-that soon. It would not do to go on in her company--nor to Chicago! And
-yet, how was he possibly to leave her in this condition?
-
-But no revelations were to be given that night.
-
-The physician administered another draught, and ordered the porter to
-make up the berth immediately. Then with skilful hands and strong arms
-he laid the young girl in upon the pillows and made her comfortable,
-Gordon meanwhile standing awkwardly by with averted eyes and troubled
-mien. He would have liked to help, but he did not know how.
-
-“She’d better not be disturbed any more than is necessary to-night,”
-said the doctor, as he pulled the pretty cloth travelling gown smoothly
-down about the girl’s ankles and patted it with professional hands.
-“Don’t let her yield to any nonsense about putting up her hair, or
-taking off that frock for fear she’ll rumple it. She needs to lie
-perfectly quiet. It’s a case of utter exhaustion, and I should say a
-long strain of some kind--anxiety, worry perhaps.” He looked keenly at
-the sheepish bridegroom. “Has she had any trouble?”
-
-Gordon lifted honest eyes.
-
-“I’m afraid so,” he answered contritely, as if it must have been his
-fault some way.
-
-“Well, don’t let her have any more,” said the elder man briskly. “She’s
-a very fragile bit of womanhood, young man, and you’ll have to handle
-her carefully or she’ll blow away. Make her _happy_, young man! People
-can’t have too much happiness in this world. It’s the best thing, after
-all, to keep them well. Don’t be afraid to give her plenty.”
-
-“Thank you!” said Gordon, fervently, wishing it were in his power to do
-what the physician ordered.
-
-The kindly physician, the assiduous porter, and the brusque but
-good-hearted conductor went away at last, and Gordon was left with his
-precious charge, who to all appearances was sleeping quietly. The light
-was turned low and the curtains of the berth were a little apart. He
-could see the dim outline of drapery about her, and one shadowy hand
-lying limp at the edge of the couch, in weary relaxation.
-
-Above her, in the upper berth, which he had told the porter not to make
-up, lay the great purple-black plumed hat, and a sheaf of lilies of the
-valley from her bouquet. It seemed all so strange for him to be there
-in their sacred presence.
-
-He locked the door, so that no one should disturb the sleeper, and went
-slowly into the little private dressing-room. For a full minute after
-he reached it, he stood looking into the mirror before him, looking
-at his own weary, soiled face, and wondering if he, Cyril Gordon,
-heretofore honored and self-respecting, had really done in the last
-twelve hours all the things which he was crediting himself with having
-done! And the question was, how had it happened? Had he taken leave of
-his senses, or had circumstances been too much for him? Had he lost
-the power of judging between right and wrong? Could he have helped any
-of the things that had come upon him? How could he have helped them?
-What ought he to have done? What ought he to do now? Was he a criminal
-beyond redemption? Had he spoiled the life of the sweet woman out there
-in her berth, or could he somehow make amends for what he had done? And
-was he as badly to blame for it all as he felt himself to be?
-
-After a minute he rallied, to realize that his face was dirty. He
-washed the marks of the adhesive plaster away, and then, not satisfied
-with the result, he brought his shaving things from his suit-case
-and shaved. Somehow, he felt more like himself after his toilet was
-completed, and he slipped back into the darkened drawing-room and
-stretched himself wearily on the couch, which, according to his
-directions, was not made up, but merely furnished with pillows and a
-blanket.
-
-The night settled into the noisy quiet of an express train, and each
-revolution of the wheels, as they whirled their way Chicagoward,
-resolved itself into the old refrain, “Don’t let anything hinder you!
-Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-
-He certainly was not taking the most direct route from New York to
-Washington, though it might eventually prove that the longest way round
-was the shortest way home, on account of its comparative safety.
-
-As he settled to the quiet of his couch, a number of things came
-more clearly to his vision. One was that they had safely passed the
-outskirts of New York without interference of any kind, and must
-by this time be speeding toward Albany, unless they were on a road
-that took them more directly West. He had not thought to look at the
-tickets for knowledge of his bearings, and the light was too dim for
-him to make out any monograms or letterings on inlaid wood panels or
-transoms, even if he had known enough about New York railroads to gain
-information from them. There was one thing certain: even if he had been
-mistaken about his supposed pursuers, by morning there would surely be
-some one searching for him. The duped Holman combination would stop
-at nothing when they discovered his theft of the paper, and he could
-not hope that so sharp-eyed a man as Mr. Holman had seemed to be would
-be long in discovering the absence of his private mark on the paper.
-Undoubtedly he knew it already. As for the frantic bridegroom, Gordon
-dreaded the thought of meeting him. It must be put off at any hazards
-until the message was safe with his chief, then, if he had to answer
-with his life for carrying off another man’s bride, he could at least
-feel that he left no duty to his government undone. It was plain that
-his present situation was a dangerous one from two points of view,
-for the bridegroom would have no difficulty in finding out what train
-he and the lady had taken; and he was satisfied that an emissary of
-Holman had more than a suspicion of his identity. The obvious thing to
-do was to get off that train at the first opportunity and get across
-country to another line of railroad. But how was that to be done with a
-sick lady on his hands? Of course he could leave her to herself. She
-probably had taken journeys before, and would know how to get back. She
-would at least be able to telegraph to her friends to come for her. He
-could leave her money and a note explaining his involuntary villainy,
-and her indignation with him would probably be a sufficient stimulant
-to keep her from dying of chagrin at her plight. But as from the first
-every nerve and fibre in him rejected this suggestion. It would be
-cowardly, unmanly, horrible! Undoubtedly it might be the wise thing to
-do from many standpoints, but--_never_! He could no more leave her that
-way than he could run off to save his life and leave that message he
-carried. She was a trust as much as that. He had got into this, and he
-must get out somehow, but he would not desert the lady or neglect his
-duty.
-
-Toward morning, when his fitful vigil became less lucid it occurred
-to him that he ought really to have deserted the bride while she was
-still unconscious, jumping off the train at the short stop they made
-soon after she fell into his arms. She would then have been cared for
-by some one, his absence discovered, and she would have been put off
-the train and her friends sent for at once. But it would have been
-dastardly to have deserted her that way not knowing even if she still
-lived, he on whom she had at least a claim of temporary protection.
-
-It was all a terrible muddle, right and wrong juggled in such a
-mysterious and unusual way. He never remembered to have come to a spot
-before where it was difficult to know which of two things it was right
-to do. There had always before been such clearly defined divisions. He
-had supposed that people who professed not to know what was right were
-people who wished to be blinded on the subject because they wished to
-do wrong and think it right. But now he saw that he had judged such too
-harshly.
-
-Perhaps his brain had been overstrained with the excitement and
-annoyances of the day, and he was not quite in a condition to judge
-what was right. He ought to snatch a few minutes’ sleep, and then
-his mind would be clearer, for something must be done and that soon.
-It would not do to risk entering a large city where detectives and
-officers with full particulars might even now be on the watch for
-him. He was too familiar with the workings of retribution in this
-progressive age not to know his danger. But he really must get some
-sleep.
-
-At last he yielded to the drowsiness that was stealing over him--just
-for a moment, he thought, and the wheels hummed on their monotonous
-song: “Don’t let anything hinder! Don’t let anything----! Don’t
-let----! Don’t! Hin-der-r-r-r!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-
-The man slept, and the train rushed on. The night waned. The dawn grew
-purple in the east, and streaked itself with gold; then later got out
-a fillet of crimson and drew over its cloudy forehead. The breath of
-the lilies filled the little room with delicate fragrance, and mingled
-strange scenes in the dreams of the man and the woman so strangely
-united.
-
-The sad little bride grew restless and stirred, but the man on the
-couch did not hear her. He was dreaming of a shooting affray, in
-which he carried a bride in a gold pencil and was shot for stealing a
-sandwich out of Mr. Holman’s vest-pocket.
-
-The morning light grew clearer. The east had put on a vesture of gold
-above her purple robe, and its reflection shone softly in at the
-window, for the train was just at that moment rushing northward, though
-its general course was west.
-
-The sleeper behind the thick green curtains stirred again and became
-conscious, as in many days past, of her heavy burden of sorrow. Always
-at first waking the realization of it sat upon her as though it would
-crush the life from her body. Lying still with bated breath, she fought
-back waking consciousness as she had learned to do in the last three
-months, yet knew it to be futile while she was doing it.
-
-The sun shot up between the bars of crimson, like a topaz on a lady’s
-gown that crowns the whole beautiful costume. The piercing, jewelled
-light lay across the white face, touched the lips with warm fingers,
-and the troubled soul knew all that had passed.
-
-She lay quiet, letting the torrent sweep over her with its sickening
-realization. She was married! It was over--with the painful parting
-from dear ones. She was off away from them all. The new life she so
-dreaded had begun, and how was she to face it--the life with one whom
-she feared and did not respect? How could she ever have done it but for
-the love of her dear ones?
-
-Gradually she came to remember the night before--the parting with
-her mother and her brother; the little things that brought the tears
-again to her eyes. Then all was blankness. She must have fainted. She
-did not often faint, but it must be--yes, she remembered opening her
-eyes and seeing men’s faces about her, and George--could it have been
-George?--with a kinder look in his eyes than she had ever thought to
-see there. Then she must have fainted again--or had she? No, some one
-had lifted her into this berth, and she had drunk something and had
-gone to sleep. What had happened? Where was everybody? It was good
-to have been left alone. She grudgingly gave her unloved husband a
-fragment of gratitude for not having tried to talk to her. In the
-carriage on the way he had seemed determined to begin a long argument
-of some kind. She did not want to argue any more. She had written tomes
-upon the subject, and had said all she had to say. He was not deceived.
-He knew she did not love him, and would never have married him but for
-her mother’s sake and for the sake of her beloved father’s memory. What
-was the use of saying more? Let it rest. The deed was done, and they
-were married. Now let him have his way and make her suffer as he chose.
-If he would but let her suffer in silence and not inflict his bitter
-tongue upon her, she would try to bear it. And perhaps--oh, perhaps,
-she would not live long, and it would soon be all over.
-
-As the daylight grew, the girl felt an inclination to find out whether
-her husband was near. Cautiously she lifted her head, and, drawing back
-a corner of the curtain, peered out.
-
-He lay quietly on the couch, one hand under his cheek against the
-pillow, the other across his breast, as if to guard something. He
-was in the still sleep of the overwearied. He scarcely seemed to be
-breathing.
-
-Celia dropped the curtain, and put her hand to her throat. It startled
-her to find him so near and so still. Softly, stealthily, she lay down
-again and closed her eyes. She must not waken him. She would have as
-long a time to herself as was possible, and try to think of her dear
-mother and her precious brother. Oh, if she were just going away from
-them alone, how well she could bear it! But to be going with one whom
-she had always almost hated----
-
-Her brother’s happy words about George suddenly came to her mind.
-Jefferson had thought him fine. Well, of course the dear boy knew
-nothing about it. He had not read all those letters--those awful
-letters. He did not know the threats--the terrible language that had
-been used. She shuddered as she thought of it. But in the same breath
-she was glad that her brother had been deceived. She would not have it
-otherwise. Her dear ones must never know what she had gone through to
-save them from disgrace and loss of fortune--disgrace, of course, being
-the first and greatest. She had feared that George would let them see
-through his veneer of manners, and leave them troubled, but he had made
-a better appearance than she had hoped. Ten years had made a greater
-change in him than she had expected. He really had not been so bad as
-her conjured image of him.
-
-Then a sudden desire to look at him again seized her, to know once for
-all just how he really did seem. She would not want to notice him awake
-any more than she could help, nor dare, lest he presume upon her sudden
-interest, to act as if he had never offended; but if she should look
-at him now as he lay asleep she might study his face and see what she
-really had to expect.
-
-She fought the desire to peer at him again, but finally it gained
-complete possession of her, and she drew back the curtain once more.
-
-He was lying just as quietly as before. His heavy hair, a little
-disordered on the pillow, gave him a noble, interesting appearance. He
-did not seem at all a fellow of whom to be afraid. It was incredible
-that he could have written those letters.
-
-She tried to trace in his features a likeness to the youth of ten
-years ago, whom she had known when she was but a little girl, who had
-tied her braids to her chair, and put raw oysters and caterpillars
-down her back, or stretched invisible cords to trip her feet in dark
-places; who made her visits to a beloved uncle--whom he also had the
-right to call uncle, though he was no cousin of hers--a long list of
-catastrophes resulting in tears; who had never failed to mortify her on
-all occasions possible, and once---- But the memories were too horrible
-as they crowded one upon another! Let them be forgotten!
-
-She watched the face before her keenly, critically, yet she could see
-no trace of any such character as she had imagined the boy George must
-have developed as a man; of which his letters had given her ample
-proof. This man’s face was finely-cut and sensitive. There was nothing
-coarse or selfish in its lines. The long, dark eyelashes lay above dark
-circles of weariness, and gave that look of boyishness that always
-touches the maternal chord in a woman’s heart. George used to have a
-puffy, self-indulgent look under his eyes even when he was a boy. She
-had imagined from his last photograph that he would be much stouter,
-much more bombastic; but, then, in his sleep, perhaps those things fell
-from a man.
-
-She tried to turn away indifferently, but something in his face held
-her. She studied it. If he had been any other man, any stranger, she
-would have said from looking at him critically that kindness and
-generosity, self-respect and respect for women, were written all over
-the face before her. There was fine, firm modelling about the lips
-and the clean-shaven chin; and about the forehead the look almost of
-a scholar; yet she thought she knew the man before her to be none of
-these things. How deceptive were looks! She would probably be envied
-rather than pitied by all who saw her. Well, perhaps that was better.
-She could the easier keep her trouble to herself. But stay, what was
-there about this man that seemed different? The smooth face? Yes.
-She had the dim impression that last night he wore a mustache. She
-must have been mistaken, of course. She had only looked at him when
-absolutely necessary, and her brain was in such a whirl; but still
-there seemed to be something different about him.
-
-Her eyes wandered to the hand that lay across his breast. It was the
-fine white hand of the professional man, the kind of hand that somehow
-attracts the eye with a sense of cleanness and strength. There was
-nothing flabby about it. George as a boy used to have big, stumpy
-fingers and nails chewed down to the quick. She could remember how
-she used to hate to look at them when she was a little girl, and yet
-somehow could not keep her eyes away. She saw with relief that the
-nails on this hand were well shaped and well cared for.
-
-He looked very handsome and attractive as he lay there. The sun shot
-one of its early daring bolts of light across his hair as the train
-turned in its course and lurched northward around a curve. It glinted
-there for a moment, like a miniature search-light, travelling over the
-head, showing up every wave and curve. He had the kind of hair which
-makes a woman’s hand instinctively long to touch it. Celia wondered
-at the curious thoughts that crowded through her mind, knowing that
-all the while there was the consciousness that when this man should
-wake she would think of nothing but his hateful personality as she had
-known it through the years. And she was his wife! How strange! How
-terrible! How impossible to live with the thought through interminable
-weary years! Oh, that she might die at once before her strength failed
-and her mother found out her sorrow! She lay back again on her pillows
-very still and tried to think, but somehow a pleasant image of him,
-her husband, lingered in her memory. Could it be possible that she
-would ever see anything pleasant in him? Ever endure the days of his
-companionship? Ever come to the point where she could overlook his
-outrageous conduct toward her, forgive him, and be even tolerant of
-him? Sharp memories crowded upon her, and the smarting tears stung
-their way into her eyes, answering and echoing in her heart, “No, no, a
-thousand times, no!” She had paid his price and gained redemption for
-her own, but--forget what he had done? _Never!_
-
-The long strain of weariness, and the monotony of the onrushing train,
-lulled her half into unconsciousness again, and the man on the couch
-slumbered on.
-
-He came to himself suddenly, with all his senses on the alert, as the
-thumping noise and motion of the train ceased, and a sudden silence of
-open country succeeded, broken now and again by distant oncoming and
-receding voices. He caught the fragment of a sentence from some train
-official: “It’s a half-hour late, and maybe more. We’ll just have to
-lie by, that’s all. Here, you, Jim, take this flag and run up to the
-switch----” The voice trailed into the distance, ended by the metallic
-note of a hammer doing something mysterious to the underpinning of the
-car.
-
-Gordon sat up suddenly, his hand yet across his breast, where his first
-waking thought had been to feel if the little pencil-case were safe.
-
-Glancing stealthily toward the curtains of the berth, and perceiving no
-motion, he concluded that the girl still slept.
-
-Softly he slipped his feet into his shoes, gave one or two other
-touches to his toilet, and stood up, looking toward the curtains. He
-wanted to go out and see where they were stopping, but dared he go
-without knowing that she was all right?
-
-Softly, reverently, he stooped and brought his face close to the
-opening in the curtains. Celia felt his eyes upon her. Her own were
-closed, and by a superhuman effort she controlled her breathing,
-slowly, gently, as if she were asleep.
-
-He looked for a long moment, thrilled by the delicate beauty of her
-sleeping face, filled with an intoxicating joy to see that her lips
-were no longer white; then, turning reverently away, he unlocked the
-door and stepped forth.
-
-The other occupants of the car were still wrapped in slumber. Loud
-snores of various kinds and qualities testified to that. A dim light at
-the further end contended luridly, and losingly, with the daylight now
-flooding the outside world and creeping mischievously into the transoms.
-
-Gordon closed the door of the compartment noiselessly and went down the
-aisle to the end of the car.
-
-A door was open, and he could hear voices outside. The conductor stood
-talking with two brakemen. He heard the words: “Three-quarters of an
-hour at least,” and then the men walked off toward the engine.
-
-Gordon looked across the country, and for the first time since he
-started on his journey let himself remember that it was springtime and
-May.
-
-There had been a bitter wind the night before, with a hint of rain in
-the air. In fact, it had rained quite smartly during the ride to the
-hospital with the hurt child, but he had been so perturbed that he had
-taken little notice of the weather. But this was a radiant morning.
-
-The sun was in one of its most charming moods, when it touches
-everything with a sort of unnatural glory after the long winter of
-darkness and cold. Every tree trunk in the distance seemed to stand out
-clearly, every little grass-blade was set with a glowing jewel, and the
-winding stream across a narrow valley fairly blazed with brightness.
-The very road with its deep, clean wheel-grooves seemed like a
-well-taken photograph.
-
-The air had an alluring softness mingled with its tang of winter that
-made one long to take a walk anywhere out into the world, just for
-the joy of being and doing. A meadow-lark shot up from somewhere to a
-telegraph pole, let go a blithe note, and hurried on. It was glorious.
-The exhilaration filled Gordon’s blood.
-
-And here was the chance he craved to slip away from the train before
-it reached a place where he could be discovered. If he had but thought
-to bring his suit-case! He could slip back now without being noticed
-and get it! He could even go without it! But--he could not leave her
-that way--could he? Ought he? Perhaps he ought---- But it would not do
-to leave his suit-case with her, for it contained letters addressed to
-his real name. An explanation would of course be demanded, and he could
-never satisfy a loving mother and brother for having left a helpless
-girl in such a situation--even if he could satisfy his own conscience,
-which he knew he never could. He simply could not leave her, and yet he
-_must_ get away from that train as soon as possible. Perhaps this was
-the only opportunity he would have before reaching Buffalo, and it was
-very risky, indeed dangerous, to dare enter Buffalo. It was a foregone
-conclusion that there would be private detectives ready to meet the
-train in Buffalo with full descriptions and particulars and only too
-ready to make way with him if they could do so without being found out.
-He looked nervously back at the door of the car. Dared he attempt to
-waken her and say that they had made a mistake and must change cars?
-Was she well enough? And where could they go?
-
-He looked off toward the landscape for answer to his question.
-
-They were decidedly in the country. The train stood at the top of
-a high embankment of cinders, below which was a smooth country road
-running parallel to the railroad for some distance till it met another
-road at right angles to it, which stretched away between thrifty
-meadow-lands to a nestling village. The glorified stream he had first
-noticed far up the valley glinted narrower here in the morning light,
-with a suggestion of watercress and forget-me-nots in its fringes as
-it veered away under a bridge toward the village and hid itself in a
-tangle of willows and cat-tails.
-
-How easy it would be to slide down that embankment, and walk out that
-road over the bridge to the village, where of course a conveyance of
-some sort could be hired to bear him to another railroad town and
-thence to--Pittsburgh, perhaps, where he could easily get a train to
-Washington. How easy if only he were not held by some invisible hands
-to care for the sweet sleeper inside the car! And yet, for her sake as
-well as his own, he must do something, and that right speedily.
-
-He was standing thus in deep meditation, looking off at the little
-village which seemed so near and yet would be so far for her to walk,
-when he was pervaded with that strange sense of some one near. For an
-instant he resisted the desire to lift his eyes and prove to himself
-that no one was present in a doorway which a moment before he knew had
-been unoccupied. Then, frowning at his own nervousness, he turned.
-
-She stood there in all the beauty of her fresh young girlhood, a
-delicate pallor on her cheeks, and a deep sadness in her great dark
-eyes, which were fixed upon him intently, in a sort of puzzled study.
-She was fully dressed, even to her hat and gloves. Every wave of her
-golden hair lay exquisitely in place under the purple hat, as though
-she might have taken an hour or two at her toilet; yet she had made it
-with excited haste, and with trembling fingers, determined to have it
-accomplished before the return of her dreaded liege lord.
-
-She had sprung from her berth the instant he closed the door upon her,
-and fastened the little catch to bar him out. She had dashed cold water
-into her face, fastened her garments hurriedly, and tossed the glory
-of her hair into place with a few touches and what hairpins she could
-find on the floor. Then putting on her hat, coat, and gloves, she had
-followed him into the outer air. She had a feeling that she must have
-air to breathe or she would suffocate. A wild desire filled her to go
-alone into the great out-of-doors. Oh, if she but dared to run away
-from him! But that she might not do, for all his threats would then
-probably be made good by him upon her dear mother and brother. No,
-she must be patient and bear to the end all that was set down for her.
-But she would get out and breathe a little before he returned. He had
-very likely gone into the smoker. She remembered that the George of
-old had been an inveterate smoker of cigarettes. She would have time
-for a taste of the morning while he had his smoke. And if he returned
-and found her gone what mattered it? The inevitable beginning of
-conversations which she so dreaded would be put off for a time.
-
-She never thought to come upon him standing thus alone, looking off at
-the beauty of the morning as if he enjoyed it. The sight of him held
-her still, watching, as his sleeping face had held her gaze earlier
-in the morning. How different he was from what she had expected! How
-the ten years had changed him! One could almost fancy it might have
-changed his spirit also--but for those letters--those terrible letters!
-The writer of those letters could not change, except for the worse!
-And yet, he was handsome, intellectual looking, kindly in his bearing,
-appreciative of the beauty about him--she could not deny it. It was
-most astonishing. He had lost that baggy look under his eyes, and the
-weak, selfish, cruel pout of lip she remembered so keenly.
-
-Then he turned, and a smile of delight and welcome lit up his face. In
-spite of herself, she could not keep an answering smile from glimmering
-faintly in her own.
-
-“What! You up and out here?” he said, hastening closer to the step.
-“How are you feeling this morning? Better, I’m sure, or you would not
-be here so early.”
-
-“Oh, I had to get out to the air,” she said. “I couldn’t stand the car
-another minute. I wish we could walk the rest of the way.”
-
-“Do you?” he said, with a quick, surprised appreciation in his voice.
-“I was just wishing something like that myself. Do you see that
-beautiful straight road down there? I was longing to slide down this
-bank and walk over to that little village for breakfast. Then we could
-get an auto, perhaps, or a carriage, to take us on to another train. If
-you hadn’t been so ill last night, I might have proposed it.”
-
-“Could we?” she asked, earnestly. “I should like it so much;” and there
-was eagerness in her voice. “What a lovely morning!” Her eyes were
-wistful, like the eyes of those who weep and wonder why they may not
-laugh, since sunshine is still yellow.
-
-“Of course we could,” he said, “if you were only able.”
-
-“Oh, I’m able enough. I should much rather do that than to go back into
-that stuffy car. But wouldn’t they think it awfully queer of us to run
-away from the train this way?”
-
-“They needn’t know anything about it,” he declared, like a boy about
-to play truant. “I’ll slip back in the car and get our suit-cases. Is
-there anything of yours I might be in danger of leaving behind?”
-
-“No, I put everything in my suit-case before I came out,” she said,
-listlessly, as though she had already lost her desire to go.
-
-“I’m afraid you are not able,” he said, pausing solicitously as he
-scaled the steps.
-
-She was surprised at his interest in her welfare.
-
-“Why, of course I am,” she said, insistently. “I have often taken
-longer walks than that looks to be, and I shall feel much better for
-being out. I really feel as if I couldn’t stand it any longer in there.”
-
-“Good! Then, we’ll try it!”
-
-He hurried in for the baggage and left her standing on the cinder
-roadbed beside the train looking off at the opening morning.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-
-It was just at that instant that the thick-set man in his berth not ten
-feet away became broadly conscious of the unwonted stillness of the
-train and the cessation of motion that had lulled him to such sound
-repose. So does a tiny, sharp sound strike upon our senses and bring
-them into life again from sleep, making us aware of a state of things
-that has been going on for some time perhaps without our realization.
-The sound that roused him may have been the click of the stateroom
-latch as Gordon opened the door.
-
-The shades were down in the man’s berth and the curtains drawn close.
-The daylight had not as yet penetrated through their thickness. But
-once awake his senses were immediately on the alert. He yawned,
-stretched and suddenly arrested another yawn to analyze the utter
-stillness all about him. A sonorous snore suddenly emphasized the
-quiet of the car, and made him aware of all the occupants of all those
-curtained apartments. His mind went over a quick résumé of the night
-before, and detailed him at once to duty.
-
-Another soft clicking of the latch set him to listening and his bristly
-shocked head was stuck instantly out between the curtains into the
-aisle, eyes toward the stateroom door, just in time to see that a man
-was stealing quietly down the passageway out of the end door, carrying
-two suit-cases and an umbrella. It was his man. He was sure instantly,
-and his mind grew frantic with the thought. Almost he had outdone
-himself through foolish sleep.
-
-He half sprang from his berth, then remembered that he was but partly
-dressed, and jerked back quickly to grab his clothes, stopping in
-the operation of putting them on to yank up his window shade with an
-impatient click and flatten his face against the window-pane!
-
-Yes, there they were down on the ground outside the train, both of
-them; man, woman, baggage and all slipping away from him while he slept
-peacefully and let them go! The language of his mind at that point was
-hot with invectives.
-
-Gordon had made his way back to the girl’s side without meeting any
-porters or wakeful fellow-passengers. But a distant rumbling greeted
-his ears. The waited-for express was coming. If they were to get away,
-it must be done at once or their flight would be discovered, and
-perhaps even prevented. It certainly was better not to have it known
-where they got off. He had taken the precaution to close the stateroom
-door behind him and so it might be some time before their absence
-would be discovered. Perhaps there would be other stops before the
-train reached Buffalo, in which case their track would not easily be
-followed. He had no idea that the evil eye of his pursuer was even then
-upon him.
-
-Celia was already on the ground, looking off toward the little village
-wistfully. Just how it was to make her lot any brighter to get out
-of the train and run away to a strange little village she did not
-quite explain to herself, but it seemed to be a relief to her pent-up
-feelings. She was half afraid that George might raise some new
-objection when he returned.
-
-Gordon swung himself down on the cinder path, scanning the track
-either way. The conductor and brakemen were not in sight. Far in the
-distance a black speck was rushing down upon them. Gordon could hear
-the vibration of the rail of the second track, upon which he placed his
-foot as he helped Celia across. In a moment more the train would pass.
-It was important that they should be down the embankment, out of sight.
-Would the delicate girl not be afraid of the steep incline?
-
-She hesitated for just an instant at the top, for it was very steep.
-Then, looking up at him, she saw that he expected her to go down with
-him. She gave a little frightened gasp, set her lips, and started.
-
-He held her as well as he could with two suit-cases and an umbrella
-clutched in his other hand, and finally, as the grade grew steeper,
-he let go the baggage altogether, and it slid briskly down by itself,
-while he devoted himself to steadying the girl’s now inevitable and
-swift descent.
-
-It certainly was not an ideal way of travelling, this new style of
-“gravity” road, but it landed them without delay, though much shaken
-and scratched, and divested of every vestige of dignity. It was
-impossible not to laugh, and Celia’s voice rang out merrily, showing
-that she had not always wept and looked sorrowful.
-
-“Are you much hurt?” asked Gordon anxiously, holding her hands and
-looking down at her tenderly.
-
-Before she could reply, the express train roared above them, drowning
-their voices and laughter; and when it was past they saw their own
-train take up its interrupted way grumblingly, and rapidly move off.
-If the passengers on those two trains had not been deeply wrapped in
-slumber, they might have been surprised to see two fashionably attired
-young persons, with hats awry and clasped hands, laughing in a country
-road at five o’clock of a May morning. But only one was awake, and by
-the time the two in the road below remembered to look up and take
-notice, the trains were rapidly disappearing.
-
-The girl had been deeply impressed with Gordon’s solicitude for her.
-It was so out of keeping with his letters. He had never seemed to care
-whether she suffered or not. In all the arrangements, he had said what
-_he_ wanted, indeed what he _would have_, with an implied threat in
-the framing of his sentence in case she dared demur. Never had there
-been the least expression of desire for her happiness. Therefore it was
-something of a surprise to find him so gentle and thoughtful of her.
-Perhaps, after all, he would not prove so terrible to live with as she
-had feared. And yet--how could anyone who wrote those letters have any
-alleviating qualities? It could not be. She must harden herself against
-him. Still, if he would be outwardly decent to her, it would make her
-lot easier, of course.
-
-But her course of mental reasoning was broken in upon by his stout
-denunciations of himself.
-
-“I ought not to have allowed you to slide down there,” he declared. “It
-was terrible, after what you went through last night. I didn’t realize
-how steep and rough it was. Indeed I didn’t. I don’t see how you ever
-can forgive me.”
-
-“Why, I’m not hurt,” she said gently, astonished at his solicitation.
-There was a strange lump in her throat brought by his kindness, which
-threatened tears. Just why should kindness from an unexpected quarter
-bring tears?
-
-“I’m only a little shaken up,” she went on as she saw a real anxiety
-in his brown eyes, “and I don’t mind it in the least. I think it was
-rather fun, don’t you?”
-
-A faint glimmer of a smile wavered over the corners of her mouth, and
-Gordon experienced a sudden desire to take her in his arms and kiss
-her. It was a strange new feeling. He had never had any such thought
-about Julia Bentley.
-
-“Why, I--why, yes, I guess so, if you’re sure you’re not hurt.”
-
-“Not a bit,” she said, and then, for some unexplained reason, they both
-began to laugh. After that they felt better.
-
-“If your shoes are as full of these miserable cinders as mine are, they
-need emptying,” declared Gordon, shaking first one well-shod foot and
-then the other, and looking ruefully at the little velvet boots of the
-lady.
-
-“Suppose you sit down”--he looked about for a seat, but the dewy grass
-was the only resting place visible. He pitched upon the suit-cases and
-improvised a chair. “Now, sit down and let me take them off for you.”
-
-He knelt in the road at her feet as she obeyed, protesting that she
-could do it for herself. But he overruled her, and began clumsily to
-unbutton the tiny buttons, holding the timid little foot firmly, almost
-reverently, against his knee.
-
-He drew the velvet shoe softly off, and, turning it upside down, shook
-out the intruding cinders, put a clumsy finger in to make sure they
-were all gone; then shyly, tenderly, passed his hand over the sole of
-the fine silk-stockinged foot that rested so lightly on his knee, to
-make sure no cinders clung to it. The sight and touch of that little
-foot stirred him deeply. He had never before been called upon to render
-service so intimate to any woman, and he did it now with half-averted
-gaze and the utmost respect in his manner. As he did it he tried to
-speak about the morning, the departing train, the annoying cinders,
-anything to make their unusual position seem natural and unstrained. He
-felt deeply embarrassed, the more so because of his own double part in
-this queer masquerade.
-
-Celia sat watching him, strangely stirred. Her wonder over his kindness
-grew with each moment, and her prejudices almost dissolved. She could
-not understand it. There must be something more he wanted of her, for
-George Hayne had never been kind in the past unless he wanted something
-of her. She dreaded lest she should soon find it out. Yet he did not
-look like a man who was deceiving her. She drew a deep sigh. If only
-it were true, and he were good and kind, and had never written those
-awful letters! How good and dear it would be to be tenderly cared for
-this way! Her lips drooped at the corners, and her eyelids drooped in
-company with the sigh; then Gordon looked up in great distress.
-
-“You are tired!” he declared, pausing in his attempt to fasten the
-little pearl buttons. “I have been cruel to let you get off the train!”
-
-“Indeed I’m not,” said the girl, brightening with sudden effort. At
-least, she would not spoil the kindness while it lasted. It was surely
-better than what she had feared.
-
-“You never can button those shoes with your fingers,” she laughed,
-as he redoubled his efforts to capture a tiny disc of pearl and set
-it into its small velvet socket. “Here! I have a button-hook in my
-hand-bag. Try this.”
-
-She produced a small silver instrument from a gold-link bag on her arm
-and handed it to him. He took it helplessly, trying first one end and
-then the other, and succeeding with neither.
-
-“Here, let me show you,” she laughed, pulling off one glove. Her white
-fingers grasped the silver button-hook, and flashed in and out of
-the velvet holes, knitting the little shoe to the foot in no time. He
-watched the process in humble wonder, and she would not have been a
-human girl not to have been flattered with his interest and admiration.
-For the minute she forgot who and what he was, and let her laugh ring
-out merrily; and so with shy audacity he assayed to take off the other
-shoe.
-
-They really felt quite well acquainted and as if they were going on
-a day’s picnic, when they finally gathered up their belongings and
-started down the road. Gordon summoned all his ready wit and intellect
-to brighten the walk for her, though he found himself again and again
-on the brink of referring to his Washington life, or some other
-personal matter that would have brought a wondering question to her
-lips. He had decided that he must not tell her who he was until he
-could put her in an independent position, where she could get away
-from him at once if she chose. He was bound to look after her until
-he could place her in good hands, or at least where she could look
-after herself, and it was better to carry it out leaving her to think
-what she pleased until he could tell her everything. If all went well,
-they might be able to catch a Pittsburgh train that night and be in
-Washington the next day. Then, his message delivered, he would tell
-her the whole story. Until then he must hold his peace.
-
-They went gaily down the road, the girl’s pale cheeks beginning
-to flush with the morning and the exercise. She was not naturally
-delicate, and her faint the night before had been the result of a
-series of heavy strains on a heart burdened with terrible fear. The
-morning and his kindness had made her forget for the time that she was
-supposed to be walking into a world of dread and sacrifice.
-
- “The year’s at the spring,
- The day’s at the morn,”
-
-quoted Gordon gaily,
-
- “Morning’s at seven;
- The hill-side’s dew-pearled----”
-
-He waved an umbrella off to where a hill flashed back a thousand lights
-from its jewelled grass-blades thickly set.
-
- “The lark’s on the wing;
- The snail’s on the thorn,”
-
-went on Celia suddenly catching his spirit, and pointing to a lark that
-darted up into the blue with a trill of the morning in his throat.
-
-Gordon turned appreciative eyes upon her. It was good to have her take
-up his favorite poet in that tone of voice--a tone that showed she too
-knew and loved Browning.
-
- “God’s in his heaven,
- All’s right with the world,”
-
-finished Gordon in a quieter voice, looking straight into her eyes.
-“That seems very true, to-day, doesn’t it?”
-
-The blue eyes wavered with a hint of shadow in them as they looked back
-into the brown ones.
-
-“Almost--perhaps,” she faltered wistfully.
-
-The young man wished he dared go behind that “almost--perhaps” and find
-out what she meant, but concluded it were better to bring back the
-smile and help her to forget for a little while at least.
-
-Down by the brook, they paused to rest, under a weeping willow, whose
-green-tinged plumes were dabbling in the brook. Gordon arranged the
-suit-cases for her to sit upon, then climbed down to the brookside and
-gathered a great bunch of forget-me-nots, blue as her eyes, and brought
-them to her.
-
-She looked at them in wonder, to think they grew out here, wild,
-untended. She had never seen them before, except in pots in the
-florist’s windows. She touched them delicately with the tips of her
-fingers, as if they were too ethereal for earth; then fastened them in
-the breast of her gown.
-
-“They exactly match your eyes!” he exclaimed involuntarily, and then
-wished he had not spoken, for she flushed and paled under his glance,
-until he felt he had been unduly bold. He wondered why he had said
-that. He never had been in the habit of saying pretty things to girls,
-but this girl somehow called it from him. It was genuine. He sat a
-moment abashed, not knowing what to say next, as if he were a shy boy,
-and she did not help him, for her eyelashes drooped in a long becoming
-sweep over her cheeks, and she seemed for the moment not to be able to
-carry off the situation. He was not sure if she were displeased or not.
-
-Her heart had thrilled strangely as he spoke, and she was vexed with
-herself that it should be so. A man who had bullied and threatened her
-for three terrible months and forced her to marry him had no right to
-a thrill of her heart nor a look from her eyes, be he ever so kind for
-the moment. He certainly was nice and pleasant when he chose to be;
-she must watch herself, for never, never, must she yield weakly to his
-smooth overtures. Well did she know him. He had some reason for all
-this pleasantness. It would surely be revealed soon.
-
-She stiffened her lips and tried to look away from him to the
-purply-green hills; but the echo of his words came upon her again,
-and again her heart thrilled at them. What if--oh what if he were all
-right, and she might accept the admiration in his voice? And yet how
-could that be possible? The sweet color came into her cheeks again,
-and the tears flew quickly to her eyes, till they looked all sky and
-dew, and she dared not turn back to him.
-
-The silence remained unbroken, until a lark in the willow copse behind
-them burst forth into song and broke the spell that was upon them.
-
-“Are you offended at what I said?” he asked earnestly. “I am sorry if
-you did not like it. The words said themselves without my stopping to
-think whether you might not like it. Will you forgive me?”
-
-“Oh,” she said, lifting her forget-me-not eyes to his, “I am not
-offended. There is nothing to forgive. It was--beautiful!”
-
-Then his eyes spoke the compliment over again, and the thrill started
-anew in her heart, till her cheeks grew quite rosy, and she buried her
-face in the coolness of the tiny flowers to hide her confusion.
-
-“It was very true,” he said in a low, lover-like voice that sounded
-like a caress.
-
-“Oughtn’t we to hurry on to catch our train?” said Celia, suddenly
-springing to her feet. “I’m quite rested now.” She felt if she stayed
-there another moment she would yield to the spell he had cast upon her.
-
-With a dull thud of consciousness the man got himself to his feet and
-reminded himself that this was another man’s promised wife to whom he
-had been letting his soul go out.
-
-“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”
-suddenly babbled out the little brook, and he gathered up his
-suit-cases and started on.
-
-“I am going to carry my suit-case,” declared a very decided voice
-behind him, and a small hand Seized hold of its handle.
-
-“I beg your pardon, you are not!” declared Gordon in a much more
-determined voice.
-
-“But they are too heavy for you--both of them--and the umbrella too,”
-she protested. “Give me the umbrella then.”
-
-But he would not give her even the umbrella, rejoicing in his strength
-to shield her and bear her burdens. As she walked beside him, she
-remembered vividly a morning when George Hayne had made her carry two
-heavy baskets, that his hands might be free to shoot birds. Could this
-be the same George Hayne?
-
-Altogether, it was a happy walk, and far shorter than either had
-expected it to be, though Gordon worried not a little about his frail
-companion before they came to the outskirts of the village, and kept
-begging her to sit down and rest again, but she would not. She was
-quite eager and excited about the strange village to which they were
-coming. Its outlying farm-houses were all so clean and white, with
-green blinds folded placidly over their front windows, and only their
-back doors astir. The cows all looked peaceful, and the dogs all seemed
-friendly.
-
-They walked up the village street, shaded in patches with flecks of
-sunshine through the young leaves. If anyone had told Celia Hathaway
-the night before that she would have walked and talked thus to-day
-with her bridegroom she would have laughed him to scorn. But now all
-unconsciously she had drifted into an attitude of friendliness with the
-man whom she had thought to hate all the rest of her life.
-
-One long, straight, maple-lined street, running parallel to the stream,
-comprised the village. They walked to the centre of it, and still saw
-no signs of a restaurant. A post-office, a couple of stores and a
-bakery made up the business portion of the town, and upon enquiry it
-appeared that there was no public eating house, the one hotel of the
-place having been sold at auction the week before on account of the
-death of the owner. The early village loungers stared disinterestedly
-at the phenomenal appearance in their midst of a couple of city folks
-with their luggage and no apparent means of transit except their two
-delicately shod feet. It presented a problem too grave to be solved
-unassisted, and there were solemn shakings of the head over them. At
-last one who had discouragingly stated the village lack of a public inn
-asked casually:
-
-“Hed a runaway?”
-
-“Oh, no!” laughed Gordon pleasantly. “We didn’t travel with horses.”
-
-“Hed a puncture, then,” announced the village wiseacre, shifting from
-one foot to the other.
-
-“Wal, you come the wrong direction to git help,” said another languid
-listener. “Thur ain’t no garridge here. The feller what uset to keep it
-skipped out with Sam Galt’s wife a month ago. You’d ought to ’a’ turned
-back to Ashville. They got a good blacksmith there can tinker ye up.”
-
-“Is that so?” said Gordon interestedly. “Well now that’s too bad, but
-perhaps as it can’t be helped we’ll have to forget it. What’s the next
-town on ahead and how far?”
-
-“Sugar Grove’s two mile further on, and Milton’s five. They’ve got a
-garridge and a rest’rant to Milton, but that’s only sence the railroad
-built a junction there.”
-
-“Has anyone here a conveyance I could hire to take us to Milton?”
-questioned Gordon, looking anxiously about the indolent group.
-
-“I wouldn’t want to drive to Milton for less’n five dollars,” declared
-a lazy youth after a suitable pause.
-
-“Very well,” said Gordon. “How soon can you be ready, and what sort of
-a rig have you? Will it be comfortable for the lady?”
-
-The youth eyed the graceful woman in her dainty city dress scornfully.
-His own country lass was dressed far prettier to his mind; but the eyes
-of her, so blue, like the little weed-flowers at her breast, went to
-his head. His tongue was suddenly tied.
-
-“It’s all right! It’s as good’s you’ll get!” volunteered a sullen-faced
-man half sitting on a sugar barrel. He was of a type who preferred to
-see fashionable ladies uncomfortable.
-
-The youth departed for his “team” and after some enquiries Gordon
-found that he might be able to persuade the owner of the tiny white
-colonial cot across the street to prepare a “snack” for himself and
-his companion, so they went across the street and waited fifteen
-minutes in a dank little hair-cloth parlor adorned in funeral wreaths
-and knit tidies, for a delicious breakfast of poached eggs, coffee,
-home-made bread, butter like roses, and a comb of amber honey. To each
-the experience was a new one, and they enjoyed it together like two
-children, letting their eyes speak volumes of comments in the midst of
-the old lady’s volubility. Unconsciously by their experiences they
-were being brought into sympathy with each other.
-
-The “rig” when it arrived at the door driven by the blushing youth
-proved to be a high spring wagon with two seats. In the front one the
-youth lounged without a thought of assisting his passengers. Gordon
-swung the baggage up, and then lifted the girl into the back seat,
-himself taking the place beside her, and planting a firm hand and arm
-behind the backless seat, that she might feel more secure.
-
-That ride, with his arm behind her, was just one more link in the
-pretty chain of sympathy that was being welded about these two.
-Unconsciously more and more she began to droop, until when she grew
-very tired he seemed to know at once.
-
-“Just lean against my arm,” he said. “You must be very tired and it
-will help you bear the jolting.” He spoke as if his arm were made of
-wood or iron, and was merely one of his belongings, like an umbrella
-or suit-case. He made it seem quite the natural thing for her to
-lean against him. If he had claimed it as her right and privilege
-as wife, she would have recoiled from him for recalling to her the
-hated relation, and would have sat straight as a bean-pole the rest
-of the way, but, as it was, she sank back a trifle deprecatingly, and
-realized that it was a great help. In her heart she thanked him for
-making it possible for her to rest without entirely compromising her
-attitude toward him. There was nothing about it that suggested anything
-lover-like; it seemed just a common courtesy.
-
-Yet the strong arm almost trembled as he felt the precious weight
-against it, and he wished that the way were ten miles instead of five.
-Once, as Celia leaned forward to point to a particularly lovely bit of
-view that opened up as they wound around a curve in the road, they ran
-over a stone, and the wagon gave an unexpected jolt. Gordon reached
-his hand out to steady her, and she settled back to his arm with a
-sense of safety and being cared for that was very pleasant. Looking up
-shyly, she saw his eyes upon her, with that deep look of admiration
-and something more, and again that strange thrill of joy that had
-come when he gave her the forget-me-nots swept through her. She felt
-almost as if she were harboring a sinful thought when she remembered
-the letters he had written; but the joy of the day, and the sweetness
-of happiness for even a moment, when she had been for so long a time
-sad, was so pleasant that she let herself enjoy it and drift, refusing
-to think evil of him now, here, in this bright day. Thus like children
-on a picnic, they passed through Sugar Grove and came to the town of
-Milton, and there they bade their driver good-by, rewarding him with
-a crisp five-dollar bill. He drove home with a vision of smiles in
-forget-me-not eyes, and a marked inability to tell anything about his
-wonderful passengers who had filled the little village with awe and
-amazement, and had given no clue to anyone as to who or what they were.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-
-But to go back to the pursuer, in his berth, baffled and frantic and
-raging. With hands that fumbled because of their very eagerness he
-sought to get into his garments, and find his shoes from the melée of
-blankets and other articles in the berth, all the time keeping one eye
-out of the window, for he must not let his prey get away from him now.
-He must watch and see what they were going to do. How fortunate that he
-had wakened in time for that. At least he would have a clue. Where was
-this? A station?
-
-He stopped operations once more to gaze off at the landscape, a
-desolate country scene to his city hardened eyes. Not a house in sight,
-nor a station. The spires of the distant village seemed like a mirage
-to him. This couldn’t be a station. What were those two doing down
-there anyway? Dared he risk calling the conductor and having him hold
-them? No, this affair must be kept absolutely quiet. Mr. Holman had
-said that if a breath of the matter came out it was worse than death
-for all concerned. He must just get off this train as fast as he could
-and follow them if they were getting away. It might be he could get the
-man in a lonely place--it would be easy enough to watch his chance
-and gag the lady--he had done such things before. He felt far more
-at home in such an affair than he had the night before at the Holman
-dinner-table. What a pity one of the others had not come along. It
-would be mere child’s play for two to handle those two who looked as
-if they would turn frightened at the first threat. However, he felt
-confident that he could manage the affair alone.
-
-He panted with haste and succeeded in getting the wrong legs into
-his trousers and having to begin all over again, his efforts greatly
-hampered by the necessity for watching out the window.
-
-Then came the distant rumble of an oncoming train, and an answering
-scream from his own engine. The two on the ground had crossed quickly
-over the second track and were looking down the steep embankment.
-Were they going down there? What fate that he was not ready to follow
-them at once! The train that was coming would pass--their own would
-start--and he could not get out. His opportunity was going from him and
-he could not find his shoes!
-
-Well what of it? He would go without! What were shoes in a time like
-this? Surely he could get along barefoot, and beg a pair at some
-farmhouse, or buy a pair at a country store. He must get out at any
-cost, shoes or no shoes. Grasping his coat which contained his money
-and valuables he sprang from his berth straight into the arms of the
-porter who was hurrying back to his car after having been out to gossip
-with a brakeman over the delay.
-
-“What’s de mattah, sah?” asked the astonished porter, rallying quickly
-from the shock and assuming his habitual courtesy.
-
-“My shoes!” roared the irate traveller. “What have you done with my
-shoes?”
-
-“Quiet, sah, please sah, you’ll wake de whole cyah,” said the porter.
-“I put yoh shoes under de berth sah, right whar I allus puts ’em aftah
-blackin’ sah.”
-
-The porter stooped and extracted the shoes from beneath the curtain and
-the traveller, whose experience in Pullmans was small, grabbed them
-furiously and made for the door, shoes in hand, for with a snort and a
-lurch and a preliminary jar the train had taken up its motion, and a
-loud rushing outside proclaimed that the other train was passing.
-
-The porter, feeling that he had been treated with injustice, stood
-gazing reproachfully after the man for a full minute before he followed
-him to tell him that the wash-room was at the other end of the car and
-not down past the drawing-room as he evidently supposed.
-
-He found his man standing in stocking feet on the cold iron platform,
-his head out of the opening left in the vestibuled train, for when the
-porter came in he had drawn shut the outer door and slammed down the
-movable platform, making it impossible for anyone to get out. There was
-only the little opening the size of a window above the grating guard,
-and the man clung to it as if he would jump over it if he only dared.
-He was looking back over the track and his face was not good to see.
-
-He turned wildly upon the porter.
-
-“I want you to stop this train and let me off,” he shouted. “I’ve lost
-something valuable back there on the track. Stop the train quick, I
-tell you, or I’ll sue the railroad.”
-
-“What was it you lost?” asked the porter respectfully. He wasn’t sure
-but the man was half asleep yet.
-
-“It was a--my--why it was a very valuable paper. It means a fortune to
-me and several other people and I must go back and get it. Stop the
-train, I tell you, at once or I’ll jump out.”
-
-“I can’t stop de train sah, you’ll hev to see de conductah sah, ’bout
-dat. But I specks there’s mighty little prospec’ o’ gettin’ dis train
-stopped foh it gits to its destinashun sah. We’s one hour a’hind time
-now, sah, an’ he’s gotta make up foh we gits to Buff’lo.”
-
-The excited passenger railed and stormed until several sleepers were
-awakened and stuck curious sleepy countenances out from the curtains
-of their berths, but the porter was obdurate, and would not take any
-measures to stop the train, nor even call the conductor until the
-passenger promised to return quietly to his berth.
-
-The thick-set man was not used to obeying but he saw that he was only
-hindering himself and finally hurried back to his berth where he
-hastily parted the curtains, craning his neck to see back along the
-track and over the green valley growing smaller and smaller now in
-the distance. He could just make out two moving specks on the white
-winding ribbon of the road. He felt sure he knew the direction they
-were taking. If he only could get off that train he could easily catch
-them, for they would have no idea he was coming, and would take no
-precautions. If he had only wakened a few seconds sooner he would have
-been following them even now.
-
-Fully ten minutes he argued with the conductor, showing a wide
-incongruity between his language and his gentlemanly attire, but the
-conductor would do nothing but promise to set him down at a water
-tower ten miles ahead where they had to slow up for water. He said sue
-or no sue he had his orders, and the thick-set man did not inspire him
-either to sympathy or confidence. The conductor had been many years on
-the road and generally knew when to stop his train and when to let it
-go on.
-
-Sullenly the thick-set man accepted the conductor’s decision and
-prepared to leave the train at the water tower, his eye out for the
-landmarks along the way as he completed his hasty toilet.
-
-He was in no pleasant frame of mind, having missed a goodly amount of
-his accustomed stimulants the night before, and seeing little prospect
-of either stimulants or breakfast before him. He was not built for a
-ten-mile walk over the cinders and his flabby muscles already ached at
-the prospect. But then, of course he would not have to go far before
-he found an automobile or some kind of conveyance to help him on his
-way. He looked eagerly from the window for indications of garages or
-stables, but the river wound its silver way among the gray green willow
-fringes, and the new grass shone a placid emerald plain with nothing
-more human than a few cows grazing here and there. Not even a horse
-that might be borrowed without his owner’s knowledge. It was a strange,
-forsaken spot, ten whole miles and no sign of any public livery! Off
-to the right and left he could see villages, but they were most of them
-too far away from the track to help him any. It began to look as if
-he must just foot it all the way. Now and then a small shanty or tiny
-dwelling whizzed by near at hand, but nothing that would relieve his
-situation.
-
-It occurred to him to go into the dining-car for breakfast, but even as
-he thought of it the conductor told him that the train would stop in
-two minutes and he must be ready to get off, for they did not stop long.
-
-He certainly looked a harmless creature, that thick-set man as he stood
-alone upon the cinder elevation and surveyed the landscape o’er. Ten
-miles from his quarry, alone on a stretch of endless ties and rails
-with a gleaming river mocking him down in the valley, and a laughing
-sky jeering overhead. He started down the shining track his temper a
-wreck, his mind in chaos, his soul at war with the world. The worst
-of it all was that the whole fault was his own for going to sleep. He
-began to fear that he had lost his chance. Then he set his ugly jaw and
-strode ahead.
-
-The morning sun poured down upon the thick-set man on his pilgrimage,
-and waxed hotter until noon. Trains whizzed mercilessly by and gave him
-no succor. Weary, faint, and fiercely thirsty he came at last to the
-spot where he was satisfied his quarry had escaped. He could see the
-marks of their rough descent in the steep cinder bank, and assaying the
-same himself came upon a shred of purple silk caught on a bramble at
-the foot.
-
-Puffing and panting, bruised and foot-sore, he sat down at the very
-place where Celia had stopped to have her shoes fastened, and mopped
-his purple brow, but there was triumph in his ugly eye, and after a few
-moment’s rest he trudged onward. That town over there ought to yield
-both conveyance and food as well as information concerning those he
-sought. He would catch them. They could never get away from him. He was
-on their track again, though hours behind. He would get them yet and no
-man should take his reward from him.
-
-Almost spent he came at last to the village, and ate a surprisingly
-large dish of beef and vegetable stew at the quaint little house where
-Celia and Gordon had breakfasted, but the old lady who served it to
-them was shy about talking, and though admitting that a couple of
-people had been there that morning she was non-committal about their
-appearance. They might have been young and good-looking and worn
-feathers in their hats, and they might not. She wasn’t one for noticing
-people’s appearance if they treated her civilly and paid their bills.
-Would he have another cup of coffee? He would, and also two more
-pieces of pie, but he got very little further information.
-
-It was over at the corner store where he finally went in search
-of something stronger than coffee that he further pursued his
-investigations.
-
-The loungers were still there. It was their only business in life
-and they were most diligent in it. They eyed the newcomer with a
-relish and settled back on their various barrels and boxes to enjoy
-whatever entertainment the gods were about to provide to relieve their
-monotonous existence.
-
-A house divided against itself cannot stand. This man’s elegant
-garments assumed for the nonce did not fit the rest of his general
-appearance which had been accentuated by his long, hot, dusty tramp.
-The high evening hat was jammed on the back of his head and bore a
-decided dent where it had rolled down the cinder embankment, his collar
-was wilted and lifeless, his white laundered tie at half mast, his coat
-awry, and his fine patent leather shoes which pinched were covered
-with dust and had caused a limp like the hardest tramp upon the road.
-Moreover, again the speech of the man betrayed him, and the keen-minded
-old gossips who were watching him suspiciously sized him up at once the
-minute he opened his mouth.
-
-“Saw anything of a couple of young folks walking down this way?”
-he enquired casually, pausing to light a cigar with which he was
-reinforcing himself for further travel.
-
-One man allowed that there might have passed such people that day. He
-hardly seemed willing to commit himself, but another vouchsafed the
-information that “Joe here driv two parties of thet description to
-Milton this mornin’--jes’ got back. Mebbe he could answer fer ’em.”
-
-Joe frowned. He did not like the looks of the thick-set man. He still
-remembered the forget-me-not eyes.
-
-But the stranger made instant request to be driven to Milton, offering
-ten dollars for the same when he found that his driver was reluctant,
-and that Milton was a railroad centre. A few keen questions had made
-him sure that his man had gone to Milton.
-
-Joe haggled, allowed his horse was tired, and he didn’t care about the
-trip twice in one day, but finally agreed to take the man for fifteen
-dollars, and sauntered off to get a fresh horse. He had no mind to be
-in a hurry. He had his own opinion about letting those two “parties”
-get out of the way before the third put in an appearance, but he had
-no mind to lose the fifteen dollars. It would help to buy the ring he
-coveted for his girl.
-
-In due time Joe rode leisurely up and the impatient traveller climbed
-into the high spring wagon and was driven away from the apathetic gaze
-of the country loungers, who unblinkingly took in the fact that Joe
-was headed toward Ashville, and evidently intended taking his fare to
-Milton by way of that village, a thirty-mile drive at least. The man
-would get the worth of his money in ride. A grim twinkle sat in their
-several eyes as the spring wagon turned the curve in the road and was
-lost to sight, and after due silence an old stager spoke:
-
-“Do you reckon that there was their sho-fur?” he requested languidly.
-
-“Naw!” replied a farmer’s son vigorously. “He wouldn’t try to showf all
-dolled up like that. He’s the rich dad comin’ after the runaways. Joe
-don’t intend he shell get ’em yet awhile. I reckon the ceremony’ll be
-over ’fore he steps in to interfere.” This lad went twice a month to
-Milton to the “movies” and was regarded as an authority on matters of
-romance. A pause showed that his theory had taken root in the minds of
-his auditors.
-
-“Wal, I reckon Joe thinks the longest way round is the shortest way
-home,” declared the old stager. “Joe never did like them cod-fish
-swells--but how do you ’count fer the style o’ that gal? She wan’t
-like her dad one little bit.”
-
-“Oh, she’s ben to collidge I ’spose,” declared the youth. “They get all
-that off’n collidge.”
-
-“Serves the old man right fer sendin’ his gal to a fool collidge when
-she ought to a ben home learnin’ to house-keep. I hope she gits off
-with her young man all right,” said a grim old lounger, and a cackle
-of laughter went round the group, which presently broke up, for this
-had been a strenuous day and all felt their need of rest; besides they
-wanted to get home and tell the news before some neighbor got ahead of
-them.
-
-All this time Celia and Gordon were touring Milton, serenely
-unconscious of danger near, or guardian angel of the name of Joe.
-
-Investigation disclosed the fact that there was a train for Pittsburgh
-about three in the afternoon. Gordon sent a code telegram to his chief,
-assuring him of the safety of the message, and of his own intention
-to proceed to Washington as fast as steam could carry him. Then he
-took the girl to a restaurant, where they mounted two high stools, and
-partook with an unusually ravenous appetite of nearly everything on the
-menu--corn soup, roast beef, baked trout, stewed tomatoes, cold slaw,
-custard, apple, and mince pies, with a cup of good country coffee and
-real cream--all for twenty-five cents apiece.
-
-It was a very merry meal. Celia felt somehow as if for the time all
-memory of the past had been taken from her, and she were free to think
-and act happily in the present, without any great problems to solve or
-decisions to make. Just two young people off having a good time, they
-were, at least until that afternoon train came.
-
-After their dinner, they took a short walk to a tiny park where two
-white ducks disported themselves on a seven-by-nine pond, spanned by a
-rustic bridge where lovers had cut their initials. Gordon took out his
-knife and idly cut C. H. in the rough bark of the upper rail, while
-his companion sat on the little board seat and watched him. She was
-pondering over the fact that he had cut her initials, and not his own.
-It would have been like the George of old to cut his own and never once
-think of hers. And he had put but one H. Probably he thought of her now
-as Celia Hayne, without the Hathaway, or else he was so used to writing
-her name Celia Hathaway, that he was not thinking at all.
-
-Those letters! How they haunted her and clouded every bright experience
-that she fain would have grasped and held for a little hour.
-
-They were silent now, while he worked and she thought. He had finished
-the C. H., and was cutting another C, but instead of making another
-H, he carefully carved out the letter G. What was that for? C. G.?
-Who was C. G.? Oh, how stupid! George, of course. He had started a C
-by mistake. But he did not add the expected H. Instead he snapped his
-knife shut, laid his hand over the carving, and leaned over the rail.
-
-“Some time, perhaps, we’ll come here again, and remember,” he said,
-and then bethought him that he had no right to hope for any such
-anniversary.
-
-“Oh!” She looked up into his eyes, startled, troubled, the haunting of
-her fears in the shadows of the blue.
-
-He looked down into them and read her trouble, read and understood, and
-looked back his great desire to comfort her.
-
-His look carried further than he meant it should. For the third time
-that day a thrill of wonder and delight passed over her and left her
-fearful with a strange joy that she felt she should put from her.
-
-It was only an instant, that look, but it brought the bright color to
-both faces, and made Gordon feel the immediate necessity of changing
-the subject.
-
-“See those little fishes down there,” he said pointing to the tiny lake
-below them.
-
-Through a blur of tears, the girl looked down and saw the tiny,
-sharp-finned creatures darting here and there in a beam of sun like a
-small search-light set to show them off.
-
-She moved her hand on the rail to lean further over, and her soft
-fingers touched his hand for a moment. She would not draw them away
-quickly, lest she hurt him; why, she did not know, but she could
-not--would not--hurt him. Not now! The two hands lay side by side for
-a full minute, and the touch to Gordon was as if a roseleaf had kissed
-his soul. He had never felt anything sweeter. He longed to gather the
-little hand into his clasp and feel its pulses trembling there as he
-had felt it in the church the night before, but she was not his. He
-might not touch her till she had her choice of what to do, and she
-would never choose him, never, when she knew how he had deceived her.
-
-That one supreme moment they had of perfect consciousness,
-consciousness of the drawing of soul to soul, of the sweetness of that
-hovering touch of hands, of the longing to know and understand each
-other.
-
-Then a sharp whistle sounded, and a farmer’s boy with a new rake and a
-sack of corn on his shoulder came sauntering briskly down the road to
-the bridge. Instantly they drew apart, and Celia felt that she had been
-on the verge of disloyalty to her true self.
-
-They walked silently back to the station, each busy with his own
-thoughts, each conscious of that one moment when the other had come so
-near.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-
-There were a lot of people at the station. They had been to a family
-gathering of some sort from their remarks, and they talked loudly and
-much, so that the two stood apart--for the seats were all occupied--and
-had no opportunity for conversation, save a quiet smiling comment now
-and then upon the chatter about them, or the odd remarks they heard.
-
-There had come a constraint upon them, a withdrawing of each into his
-shell, each conscious of something that separated. Gordon struggled to
-prevent it, but he seemed helpless. Celia would smile in answer to his
-quiet remarks, but it was a smile of distance, such as she had worn
-early in the morning. She had quite found her former standing ground,
-with its fence of prejudice, and she was repairing the breaks through
-which she had gone over to the enemy during the day. She was bracing
-herself with dire reminders, and snatches from those terrible letters
-which were written in characters of fire in her heart. Never, never,
-could she care for a man who had done what this man had done. She had
-forgotten for a little while those terrible things he had said of her
-dear dead father. How could she have forgotten for an instant! How
-could she have let her hand lie close to the hand that had defiled
-itself by writing such things!
-
-By the time they were seated in the train, she was freezing in her
-attitude, and poor Gordon sat miserably beside her and tried to think
-what he had done to offend her. It was not his fault that her hand
-had lain near his on the rail. She had put it there herself. Perhaps
-she expected him to put his over it, to show her that he cared as a
-bridegroom should care--as he did care, in reality, if he only had the
-right. And perhaps she was hurt that he had stood coolly and said or
-done nothing. But he could not help it.
-
-Much to Gordon’s relief, the train carried a parlor-car, and it
-happened on this particular day to be almost deserted save for a deaf
-old man with a florid complexion and a gold knobbed cane who slumbered
-audibly at the further end from the two chairs Gordon selected. He
-established his companion comfortably, disposed of the baggage, and
-sat down, but the girl paid no heed to him. With a sad, set face,
-she stared out of the window, her eyes seeming to see nothing. For
-two hours she sat so, he making remarks occasionally, to which she
-made little or no reply, until he lapsed into silence, looking at her
-with troubled eyes. Finally, just as they neared the outskirts of
-Pittsburgh, he leaned softly forward and touched her coat-sleeve, to
-attract her attention.
-
-“Have I offended--hurt--you in any way?” he asked gently. She turned
-toward him, and her eyes were brimming full of tears.
-
-“No,” she said, and her lips were trembling. “No, you have
-been--most--kind--but--but I cannot forget _those letters_!” She ended
-with a sob and put up her handkerchief quickly to stifle it.
-
-“Letters?” he asked helplessly. “What letters?”
-
-“The letters you wrote me. All the letters of the last five months. I
-cannot forget them. I can _never_ forget them! How could you _think_ I
-could?”
-
-He looked at her anxiously, not knowing what to say, and yet he must
-say something. The time had come when some kind of an understanding,
-some clearing up of facts, must take place. He must go cautiously, but
-he must find out what was the matter. He could not see her suffer so.
-There must be some way to let her know that so far as he was concerned
-she need suffer nothing further and that he would do all in his power
-to set her right with her world.
-
-But letters! He had written no letters. His face lighted up with the
-swift certainty of one thing about which he had not dared to be sure.
-She still thought him the man she had intended to marry. She was not
-therefore troubled about that phase of the question. It was strange,
-almost unbelievable, but it was true that he personally was not
-responsible for the trouble in her eyes. What trouble she might feel
-when she knew all, he had yet to find out, but it was a great relief to
-be sure of so much. Still, something must be said.
-
-“Letters!” he repeated again stupidly, and then added with perplexed
-tone: “Would you mind telling me just what it was in the letters that
-hurt you?”
-
-She turned eyes of astonishment on him.
-
-“How can you ask?” she said almost bitterly. “You surely must know how
-terrible they were to me! You could not be the man you have seemed to
-be to-day if you did not know what you were doing to me in making all
-those terrible threats. You must know how cruel they were.”
-
-“I am afraid I don’t understand,” he said earnestly, the trouble
-still most apparent in his eyes, “Would you mind being a little more
-explicit? Would you mind telling me exactly what you think I wrote you
-that sounded like a threat?”
-
-He asked the question half hesitatingly, because he was not quite sure
-whether he was justified in thus obtaining private information under
-false pretenses, and yet he felt that he must know just what troubled
-her or he could never help her; and he was sure that if she knew he was
-an utter stranger, even a kindly one, those gentle lips would never
-open to inform him upon her torturer. As it was she could tell him her
-trouble with a perfectly clear conscience, thinking she was telling it
-to the man who knew all about it. But his hesitation about prying into
-an utter stranger’s private affairs even with a good motive, gave him
-an air of troubled dignity, and real anxiety to know his fault that
-puzzled the girl more than all that had gone before.
-
-“I cannot understand how you can ask such a question, since it has been
-the constant subject of discussion in all our letters!” she replied,
-sitting up with asperity and drying her tears. She was on the verge of
-growing angry with him for his petty, wilful misunderstanding of words
-whose meaning she felt he must know well.
-
-“I do ask it,” he said quietly, “and, believe me, I have a good motive
-in doing so.”
-
-She looked at him in surprise. It was impossible to be angry with those
-kindly eyes, even though he did persist in a wilful stupidity.
-
-“Well, then, since you wish it stated once more I will tell you,” she
-declared, the tears welling again into her eyes. “You first demanded
-that I marry you--demanded--without any pretense whatever of caring
-for me--with a hidden threat in your demand that if I did not, you
-would bring some dire calamity upon me by means that were already in
-your power. You took me for the same foolish little girl whom you had
-delighted to tease for years before you went abroad to live. And when
-I refused you, you told me that you could not only take away from my
-mother all the property which she had inherited from her brother, by
-means of a will made just before my uncle’s death, and unknown except
-to his lawyer and you; but that you could and would blacken my dear
-dead father’s name and honor, and show that every cent that belonged to
-Mother and Jefferson and myself was stolen property. When I challenged
-you to prove any such thing against my honored father, you went still
-further and threatened to bring out a terrible story and prove it with
-witnesses who would swear to anything you said. You knew my father’s
-white life, you as much as owned your charges were false, and yet you
-dared to send me a letter from a vile creature who pretended that she
-was his first wife, and who said she could prove that he had spent much
-of his time in her company. You knew the whole thing was a falsehood,
-but you dared to threaten to make this known through the newspapers
-if I did not marry you. You realized that I knew that, even though few
-people and no friends would believe such a thing of my father, such a
-report in the papers--false though it was--would crush my mother to
-death. You knew that I would give my life to save her, and so you had
-me in your power, as you have me now. You have always wanted me in your
-power, just because you love to torture, and now you have me. But you
-cannot make me forget what you have done. I have given my life but I
-cannot give any more. If it is not sufficient you will have to do your
-worst.”
-
-She dropped her face into the little wet handkerchief, and Gordon
-sat with white, drawn countenance and clenched hands. He was fairly
-trembling with indignation toward the villain who had thus dared impose
-upon this delicate flower of womanhood. He longed to search the world
-over for the false bridegroom; and, finding, give him his just dues.
-
-And what should he do or say? Dared he tell her at once who he was and
-trust to her kind heart to forgive his terrible blunder and keep his
-secret till the message was safely delivered? Dared he? Had he any
-right? No, the secret was not his to divulge either for his own benefit
-or for any other’s. He must keep that to himself. But he must help her
-in some way.
-
-At last he began to speak, scarcely knowing what he was about to say:
-
-“It is terrible, _terrible_, what you have told me. To have written
-such things to one like you--in fact, to anyone on earth--seems to me
-unforgivable. It is the most inhuman cruelty I have ever heard of. You
-are fully justified in hating and despising the man who wrote such
-words to you.”
-
-“Then, why did you write them?” she burst forth. “And how can you sit
-there calmly and talk that way about it, as if you had nothing to do
-with the matter?”
-
-“Because I never wrote those letters,” he said, looking her steadily,
-earnestly, in the eyes.
-
-“You never wrote them!” she exclaimed excitedly. “You dare to deny it?”
-
-“I dare to deny it.” His voice was quiet, earnest, convincing.
-
-She looked at him, dazed, bewildered, indignant, sorrowful. “But you
-cannot deny it,” she said, her fragile frame trembling with excitement.
-“I have the letters all in my suit-case. You cannot deny your own
-handwriting. I have the last awful one--the one in which you threatened
-Father’s good name--here in my hand-bag. I dared not put it with the
-rest, and I had no opportunity to destroy it before leaving home. I
-felt as if I must always keep it with me, lest otherwise its awful
-secret would somehow get out. There it is. Read it and see your own
-name signed to the words you say you did not write!”
-
-While she talked, her trembling fingers had taken a folded, crumpled
-letter from her little hand-bag, and this she reached over and laid
-upon the arm of his chair.
-
-“Read it,” she said. “Read it and see that you cannot deny it.”
-
-“I should rather not read it,” he said. “I do not need to read it to
-deny that I ever wrote such things to you.”
-
-“But I insist that you read it,” said the girl.
-
-“If you insist I will read it,” he said, taking the letter reluctantly
-and opening it.
-
-She sat watching him furtively through the tears while he read, saw
-the angry flush steal into his cheeks as the villainy of a fellow man
-was revealed to him through the brief, coarse, cruel epistle, and she
-mistook the flush for one of shame.
-
-Then his true brown eyes looked up and met her tearful gaze steadily, a
-fine anger burning in them.
-
-“And you think I wrote that!” he said, a something in his voice she
-could not understand.
-
-“What else could I think? It bears your signature,” she answered coldly.
-
-“The letter is vile,” he said, “and the man who wrote it is a
-blackguard, and deserves the utmost that the law allows for such
-offences. With your permission, I shall make it my business to see that
-he gets it.”
-
-“What do you mean?” she said, wide-eyed. “How could you punish
-yourself? You cannot still deny that you wrote the letter.”
-
-“I still deny that I wrote it, or ever saw it until you handed it to me
-just now.”
-
-The girl looked at him, nonplussed, more than half convinced, in spite
-of reason.
-
-“But isn’t that your handwriting?”
-
-“It is not. Look!”
-
-He took out his fountain pen, and, holding the letter on the arm of her
-chair, he wrote rapidly in his natural hand her own name and address
-beneath the address on the envelope, then held it up to her.
-
-“Do they look alike?”
-
-The two writings were as utterly unlike as possible, the letter being
-addressed in an almost unreadable scrawl, and the fresh writing
-standing fine and clear, in a script that spoke of character and
-business ability. Even a child could see at a glance that the two were
-not written by the same hand--and yet of course, it might have been
-practised for the purpose of deception. This thought flashed through
-the minds of both even as he held it out for her to look.
-
-She looked from the envelope to his eyes and back to the letter,
-startled, not knowing what to think.
-
-But before either of them had time for another word the conductor, the
-porter, and several people from the car behind came hurriedly through,
-and they realized that while they talked the train had come to a halt,
-amid the blazing electric lights of a great city station.
-
-“Why,” said Gordon, startled, “we must have reached Pittsburgh. Is this
-Pittsburgh?” he called out to the vanishing porter.
-
-“Yas sah!” yelled the porter, putting his head around the curve of the
-passageway. “You bettah hurry sah, foh dis train goes on to Cincinnati
-pretty quick. We’s late gittin’ in you see.”
-
-Neither of them had noticed a man in rough clothes with slouch hat and
-hands in his pockets who had boarded the train a few miles back and
-walked through the car several times eyeing them keenly. He stuck his
-head in at the door now furtively and drew back quickly again out of
-sight.
-
-Gordon hurriedly gathered up the baggage, and they went out of the car,
-the porter rushing back as they reached the door, to assist them and
-get a last tip. There was no opportunity to say anything more, as they
-mingled with the crowd, until the porter landed their baggage in the
-great station and hurried back to his train. The man with the slouch
-hat followed and stood unobtrusively behind them.
-
-Gordon looked down at the white, drawn face of the girl, and his heart
-was touched with compassion for her trouble. He must make her some
-satisfactory explanation at once that would set her heart at rest, but
-he could not do it here, for every seat about them was filled with
-noisy chattering folk. He stooped and whispered low and tenderly:
-
-“Don’t worry, little girl! Just try to trust me, and I will explain it
-all.”
-
-“Can you explain it?” she asked anxiously, as if catching at a rope
-thrown out to save her life.
-
-“Perfectly,” he said, “if you will be patient and trust me. But we
-cannot talk here. Just wait in this seat until I see if I can get the
-stateroom on the sleeper.”
-
-He left her with his courteous bow, and she sat watching his tall, fine
-figure as he threaded his way among the crowds to the Pullman window,
-her heart filled with mingling emotions. In spite of her reason, a tiny
-bit of hope for the future was springing up in her heart and without
-her own will she found herself inclined to trust him. At least it was
-all she could do at present.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-
-Back at Milton an hour before, when the shades of dusk were falling and
-a slender moon hung timidly on the edge of the horizon, a horse drawing
-a spring wagon ambled deliberately into town and came to a reluctant
-halt beside the railroad station, having made a wide détour through the
-larger part of the county on the way to that metropolis.
-
-The sun had been hot, the road much of it rough, and the jolts over
-stones and bumps had not added to the comfort of the thick-set man,
-already bruised and weary from his travels. Joe’s conversation had not
-ceased. He had given his guest a wide range of topics, discoursing
-learnedly on the buckwheat crop and the blight that might be expected
-to assail the cherry trees. He pointed out certain portions of land
-infested with rattlesnakes, and told blood-curdling stories of
-experiences with stray bears and wild cats in a maple grove through
-which they passed till the passenger looked furtively behind him and
-urged the driver to hurry a little faster.
-
-Joe, seeing his gullibility, only made his stories of country life the
-bigger, for the thick-set man, though bold as a lion in his own city
-haunts, was a coward in the unknown world of the country.
-
-When the traveler looking at his watch urged Joe to make haste and
-asked how many miles further Milton was, Joe managed it that the horse
-should stumble on a particularly stony bit of road. Then getting down
-gravely from the wagon he examined the horse’s feet each in turn,
-shaking his head sadly over the left fore foot.
-
-“Jes’ ’z I ’sposed,” he meditated dreamily. “Stone bruise! Lame horse!
-Don’t believe I ought to go on. Sorry, but it’ll be the ruination of
-the horse. You ain’t in a hurry I hope.”
-
-The passenger in great excitement promised to double the fare if the
-young man would get another horse and hurry him forward, and after
-great professions of doubt Joe gave in and said he would try the horse,
-but it wouldn’t do to work him hard. They would have to let him take
-his time. He couldn’t on any account leave the horse behind anywhere
-and get a fresh one because it belonged to his best friend and he
-promised to bring it back safe and sound. They would just take their
-time and go slow and see if the horse could stand it. He wouldn’t think
-of trying it if it weren’t for the extra money which he needed.
-
-So the impatient traveler was dragged fuming along weary hour after
-weary hour through the monotonous glory of a spring afternoon of
-which he saw nothing but the dust of the road as he tried to count
-the endless miles. Every mile or two Joe would descend from the wagon
-seat and fuss around the horse’s leg, the horse nothing loth at such
-unprecedented attention dozing cozily by the roadside during the
-process. And so was the traveler brought to his destination ten minutes
-after the last train that stopped at Milton that night had passed the
-station.
-
-The telegraph office was not closed however, and without waiting to
-haggle, the passenger paid his thirty dollars for the longest journey
-he ever took, and disappeared into the station, while Joe, whipping up
-his petted animal, and whistling cheerily:
-
- “Where did you get that girl--?”
-
-went rattling down the short cut from Milton home at a surprising pace
-for a lame horse. He was eating his supper at home in a little more
-than an hour, and the horse seemed to have miraculously recovered from
-his stone bruise. Joe was wondering how his girl would look in a hat
-with purple plumes, and thinking of his thirty dollars with a chuckle.
-
-It was surprising how much that thick-set man, weary and desperate
-though he was, could accomplish, when once he reached the telegraph
-station and sent his messages flying on their way. In less than three
-minutes after his arrival he had extracted from the station agent the
-fact that two people, man and woman, answering the description he gave,
-had bought tickets for Pittsburgh and taken the afternoon train for
-that city. The agent had noticed them on account of their looking as
-if they came from the city. He especially noticed the purple plumes,
-the like of which he had never seen before. He had taken every minute
-he could get off from selling tickets and sending telegrams to watch
-the lady through his little cobwebby window. They didn’t wear hats like
-that in Milton.
-
-In ten minutes one message was on its way to a crony in Pittsburgh with
-whom the thick-set man kept in constant touch for just such occasions
-as the present, stirring him to strenuous action; another message had
-winged its mysterious way to Mr. Holman, giving him the main facts
-in the case; while a third message caught another crony thirty miles
-north of Pittsburgh and ordered him to board the evening express at his
-own station, hunt up the parties described, and shadow them to their
-destination, if possible getting in touch with the Pittsburgh crony
-when he reached the city.
-
-The pursuer then ate a ham sandwich with liberal washings of liquid
-fire while he awaited replies to some of his messages; and as soon
-as he was satisfied that he had set justice in motion he hired an
-automobile and hied him across country to catch a midnight express to
-Pittsburgh. He had given orders that his man and accompanying lady
-should be held in Pittsburgh until his arrival, and he had no doubt but
-that the orders would be carried out, so sure was he that he was on the
-right track, and that his cronies would be able and willing to follow
-his orders.
-
-There was some kind of an excursion on at Pittsburgh, and the place was
-crowded. The trainmen kept calling off specials, and crowds hurried out
-of the waiting room, only to be replaced by other crowds, all eager,
-pushing, talking, laughing. They were mostly men, but a good many
-women and some children seemed to be of the number; and the noise and
-excitement worried her after her own exciting afternoon. Celia longed
-to lay her down and sleep, but the seat was narrow, and hard, and
-people were pressing on every side. That disagreeable man in the slouch
-hat would stand too near. He was most repulsive looking, though he did
-not seem to be aware of her presence.
-
-Gordon had a long wait before he finally secured the coveted stateroom
-and started back to her, when suddenly a face that he knew loomed up
-in the crowd and startled him. It was the face of a private detective
-who was well known about Washington, but whose headquarters were in New
-York.
-
-Until that instant, it had not occurred to him to fear watchers so
-far south and west as Pittsburgh. It was not possible that the other
-bridegroom would think to track him here, and, as for the Holman
-contingent, they would not be likely to make a public disturbance about
-his disappearance, lest they be found to have some connection with
-the first theft of government property. They could have watchers only
-through private means, and they must have been wily indeed if they had
-anticipated his move through Pittsburgh to Washington. Still, it was
-the natural move for him to make in order to get home as quickly as
-possible and yet escape them. And this man in the crowd was the very
-one whom they would have been likely to pick out for their work. He was
-as slippery in his dealings as they must be, and no doubt was in league
-with them. He knew the man and his ways thoroughly, and had no mind to
-fall into his hands.
-
-Whether he had been seen by the detective yet or not, he could not
-tell, but he suspected he had, by the way the man stood around and
-avoided recognizing him. There was not an instant to be lost. The fine
-stateroom must go untenanted. He must make a dash for liberty. Liberty!
-Ah, East Liberty! what queer things these brains of ours are! He knew
-Pittsburgh just a little. He remembered having caught a train at East
-Liberty Station once when he had not time to come down to the station
-to take it. Perhaps he might get the same train at East Liberty. It was
-nearly two hours before it left.
-
-Swooping down upon the baggage, he murmured in the girl’s ear:
-
-“Can you hurry a little? We must catch a car right away.”
-
-She followed him closely through the crowd, he stooping as if to
-look down at his suit-case, so that his height might not attract the
-attention of the man whose recognition he feared, and in a moment more
-they were out in the lighted blackness of the streets. One glance
-backward showed his supposed enemy stretching his neck above the
-crowd, as if searching for some one, as he walked hurriedly toward
-the very doorway they had just passed. Behind them shadowed the man
-in the slouch hat, and with a curious motion of his hand signalled
-another like himself, the Pittsburgh crony, who skulked in the darkness
-outside. Instantly this man gave another signal and out of the gloom of
-the street a carriage drew up at the curb before the door, the cabman
-looking eagerly for patronage.
-
-Gordon put both suit-cases in one hand and taking Celia’s arm as gently
-as he could in his haste hurried her toward the carriage. It was the
-very refuge he sought. He placed her inside and gave the order for
-East Liberty Station, drawing a long breath of relief at being safely
-out of the station. He did not see the shabby one who mounted the box
-beside the driver and gave his directions in guttural whispers, nor the
-man with the slouch hat who watched from the doorway and followed them
-to a familiar haunt on the nearest car. He only felt how good it was
-to be by themselves once more where they could talk together without
-interruption.
-
-But conversation was not easy under the circumstances. The noise of
-wagons, trains and cars was so great at the station that they could
-think of nothing but the din, and when they had threaded their way out
-of the tangle and started rattling over the pavement the driver went
-at such a furious pace that they could still only converse by shouting
-and that not at all satisfactorily. It seemed a strange thing that any
-cabman should drive at such a rapid rate within the city limits, but
-as Gordon was anxious to get away from the station and the keen-eyed
-detective as fast as possible he thought nothing of it at first.
-After a shouted word or two they ceased to try to talk, and Gordon,
-half shyly, reached out a reassuring hand and laid it on the girl’s
-shrinking one that lay in her lap. He had not meant to keep it there
-but a second, just to make her understand that all was well, and he
-would soon be able to explain things, but as she did not seem to resent
-it, nor draw her own away, he yielded to the temptation and kept the
-small gloved hand in his.
-
-The carriage rattled on, bumpety-bump, over rough places, around
-corners, tilting now and then sideways, and Celia, half-frightened, was
-forced to cling to her protector to keep from being thrown on the floor
-of the cab.
-
-“Oh, are we running away?” she breathed awesomely into his ear.
-
-“I think not,--dear,” he answered back, the last word inaudible. “The
-driver thinks we are in a hurry but he has no need to go at this
-furious pace. I will tell him.”
-
-He leaned forward and tapped on the glass, but the driver paid no
-attention whatever save perhaps to drive faster. Could it be that he
-had lost control of his horse and could not stop, or hadn’t he heard?
-Gordon tried again, and accompanied the knocking this time with a
-shout, but all to no purpose. The cab rattled steadily on. Gordon
-discovered now that there were two men on the box instead of one, and a
-sudden premonition sent a thrill of alarm through him. What if after
-all the presence of that detective had been a warning, and he unheeding
-had walked into a trap? What a fool he had been to get into a carriage
-where he was at the mercy of the driver. He ought to have stayed in
-open places where kidnapping would be impossible. Now that he had
-thought of it he felt convinced that this was just what the enemy would
-try to do,--kidnap him. The more fruitless he found his efforts to
-make the driver hear him the more he felt convinced that something was
-wrong. He tried to open the door next him and found it stuck. He put
-all his strength forth to turn the catch but it held fast. Then a cold
-sweat stood out upon him and horror filled his mind. His commission
-with its large significance to the country was in imminent jeopardy.
-His own life was in all probability hanging in the balance, but most
-of all he felt the awful peril of the sweet girl by his side. What
-terrible experiences might be hers within the next hour if his brain
-and right arm could not protect her. Instinctively his hand went to
-the pocket where he had kept his revolver ready since ever he had left
-Washington. Danger should not find him utterly unprepared.
-
-He realized, too, that it was entirely possible, that his alarms were
-unfounded; that the driver was really taking them to the East Liberty
-station; that the door merely stuck, and he was needlessly anxious.
-He must keep a steady head and not let his companion see that he was
-nervous. The first thing was to find out if possible where they really
-were, but that was a difficult task. The street over which they rattled
-was utterly dark with the gloom of a smoky city added to the night.
-There were no street lights except at wide intervals, and the buildings
-appeared to be blank walls of darkness, probably great warehouses. The
-way was narrow, and entirely unknown. Gordon could not tell if he had
-ever been there before. He was sure from his knowledge of the stations
-that they had gone much farther than to East Liberty, and the darkness
-and loneliness of the region through which they were passing filled
-him again with a vague alarm. It occurred to him that he might be able
-to get the window sash down and speak to the driver, and he struggled
-with the one on his own side for a while, with little result, for it
-seemed to have been plugged up with wads of paper all around. This fact
-renewed his anxiety. It began to look as if there was intention in
-sealing up that carriage. He leaned over and felt around the sash of
-the opposite door and found the paper wads there also. There certainly
-was intention. Not to alarm Celia he straightened back and went to
-work again at his own window sash cautiously pulling out the paper
-until at last he could let down the glass.
-
-A rush of dank air rewarded his efforts, and the girl drew a breath of
-relief. Gordon never knew how near she had been to fainting at that
-moment. She was sitting perfectly quiet in her corner watching him, her
-fears kept to herself, though her heart was beating wildly. She was
-convinced that the horse was running away.
-
-Gordon leaned his head out of the window, but immediately he caught the
-gleam of a revolver in a hand that hung at the side of the driver’s
-box, pointed downward straight toward his face as if with intention to
-be ready in case of need. The owner of the hand was not looking toward
-him, but was talking in muffled tones to the driver. They evidently had
-not heard the window let down, but were ready for the first sign of an
-attempt on the part of their victims to escape.
-
-Quietly Gordon drew in his head speculating rapidly on the possibility
-of wrenching that revolver out of its owner’s hand. He could do it from
-where he sat, but would it be wise? They were probably locked in a
-trap, and the driver was very likely armed also. What chance would he
-have to save Celia if he brought on a desperate fight at this point? If
-he were alone he might knock that revolver out of the man’s hand and
-spring from the window, taking his chance of getting away, but now he
-had Celia to think of and the case was different. Not for a universe of
-governments could he leave a woman in such desperate straits. She must
-be considered first even ahead of the message. This was life and death.
-
-He wondered at his own coolness as he sat back in the carriage and
-quietly lifted the glass frame back into place. Then he laid a steady
-hand on Celia’s again and stooping close whispered into her ear:
-
-“I am afraid there’s something wrong with our driver. Can you be a
-little brave,--dear?” He did not know he had used the last word this
-time, but it thrilled into the girl’s heart with a sudden accession of
-trust.
-
-“Oh, yes,” she breathed close to his face. “You don’t think he has been
-drinking, do you?”
-
-“Well, perhaps,” said Gordon relieved at the explanation. “But keep
-calm. I think we can get out of this all right. Suppose you change
-seats with me and let me try if that door will open easily. We might
-want to get out in a hurry in case he slows up somewhere pretty soon.”
-
-Celia quietly and swiftly slipped into Gordon’s seat and he applied
-himself with all his strength and ingenuity gently manipulating the
-latch and pressing his shoulder against the door, until at last to
-his joy it gave way reluctantly and he found that it would swing open.
-He had worked carefully, else the sudden giving of the latch would
-have thrown him out of the carriage and given instant alarm to his
-driver. He was so thoroughly convinced by this time that he was being
-kidnapped, perhaps to be murdered, that every sense was on the alert.
-It was his characteristic to be exceedingly cool during a crisis. It
-was the quality that the keen-eyed chief had valued most in him, and
-the final reason why he had been selected for this difficult task in
-place of an older and more experienced man who at times lost his head.
-
-The door to the outside world being open Gordon cautiously took a
-survey of the enemy from that side. There was no gleaming weapon here.
-The man set grimly enough, laying on the whip and muttering curses
-to his bony horse who galloped recklessly on as if partaking of the
-desperate desires of his master. In the distance Gordon could hear the
-rumbling of an oncoming train. The street was still dark and scarcely
-a vehicle or person to be seen. There seemed no help at hand, and no
-opportunity to get out, for they were still rushing at a tremendous
-pace. An attempt to jump now would very likely result in broken limbs,
-which would only leave them in a worse plight than they were. He
-slipped back to his own seat and put Celia next to the free door again.
-She must be where she could get out first if the opportunity presented
-itself. Also, he must manage to throw out the suit-cases if possible on
-account of the letters and valuables they contained.
-
-Instinctively his hand sought Celia’s in the darkness again, and hers
-nestled into it in a frightened way as if his strength gave her comfort.
-
-Then, before they could speak or realize, there came the rushing sound
-of a train almost upon them and the cab came to a halt with a jerk,
-the driver pulling the horse far back on his haunches to stop him.
-The shock almost threw Celia to the floor, but Gordon’s arm about her
-steadied her, and instantly he was on the alert.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-
-Glancing through the window he saw that they were in front of a
-railroad track upon which a long freight train was rushing madly along
-at a giddy pace for a mere freight. The driver had evidently hoped to
-pass this point before the train got there, but had failed. The train
-had an exultant sound as if it knew and had outwitted the driver.
-
-On one side of the street were high buildings and on the other a great
-lumber yard, between which and their carriage there stood a team of
-horses hitched to a covered wagon, from the back of which some boards
-protruded, and this was on the side next to Celia where the door would
-open! Gordon’s heart leaped up with hope and wonder over the miracle
-of their opportunity. The best thing about their situation was that
-their driver had stopped just a little back of the covered wagon, so
-that their door would open to the street directly behind the covered
-wagon. It made it possible for the carriage door to swing wide and for
-them to slip across behind the wagon without getting too near to the
-driver. Nothing could have been better arranged for their escape and
-the clatter of the empty freight cars drowned all sounds.
-
-Without delay Gordon softly unlatched the door and swung it open
-whispering to Celia:
-
-“Go! Quick! Over there by the fence in the shadow. Don’t look around
-nor speak! Quick! I’ll come!”
-
-Trembling in every limb yet with brave starry eyes Celia slipped like
-a wraith from the carriage, stole behind the boards and melted into
-the shadow of the great fence of the lumber yard, her purple plumes
-mere depths of shadow against the smoky planks. Gordon, grasping the
-suit-cases, moved instantly after her, deftly and silently closing
-the carriage door and dropping into the shadows behind the big wagon,
-scarcely able to believe as yet that they had really escaped.
-
-Ten feet back along the sidewalk was a gateway, the posts being tall
-and thick. The gate itself was closed but it hung a few inches inside
-the line of the fence, and into this depression the two stepped softly
-and stood, flattening themselves back against the gate as closely as
-possible, scarcely daring to breathe, while the long freight clattered
-and rambled its way by like a lot of jolly washerwomen running and
-laughing in a line and spatting their tired noisy feet as they went;
-then the vehicles impatiently took up their onward course. Gordon
-saw the driver look down at the window below him and glance back
-hastily over his shoulder, and the man on the other side of the box,
-looked down on his side. The glitter of something in his hand shone
-for an instant in the glare of the signal light over the track. Then
-the horse lurched forward and the cab began its crazy gait over the
-track and up the cobbled street. They had started onward without
-getting down to look in the carriage and see if all were safe with
-their prisoners, and they had not even looked back to see if they had
-escaped. They evidently trusted in the means they had used to lock
-the carriage doors, and had heard no sounds of their escaping. It was
-incredible, but it was true. Gordon drew a long breath of relief and
-relaxed from his strained position. The next thing was to get out of
-that neighborhood as swiftly as possible before those men had time to
-discover that their birds had flown. They would of course know at once
-where their departure had taken place and come back swiftly to search
-for them, with perhaps more men to help; and a second time escape would
-be impossible.
-
-Gordon snatched up the suit-cases with one hand, and with the other
-drew Celia’s arm within his.
-
-“Now, we must hurry with all our might,” he said softly. “Are you all
-right?”
-
-“Yes.” Her breath was coming in a sob, but her eyes were shining
-bravely.
-
-“Poor child!” his voice was very tender. “Were you much frightened?”
-
-“A little,” she answered more bravely now.
-
-“I shall have hard work to forgive myself for all this,” he said
-tenderly. “But we mustn’t talk. We have to get out of this quickly or
-they may come back after us. Lean on me and walk as fast as you can.”
-
-Celia bent her efforts to take long springing strides, and together
-they fairly skimmed the pavements, turning first this corner, then
-that, in the general direction from which Gordon thought they had
-come, until at last, three blocks away they caught the welcome whirr
-of a trolley, and breathless, flew onward, just catching a car. They
-cared not where it went so that they were safe in a bright light with
-other people. No diamonds on any gentleman’s neckscarf ever shone to
-Celia’s eyes with so friendly a welcome as the dull brass buttons on
-that trolley conductor’s coat as he rang up their fares and answered
-Gordon’s questions about how to get to East Liberty station; and their
-pleasant homely gleam almost were her undoing, for now that they were
-safe at last the tears would come to her eyes.
-
-Gordon watched her lovingly, tenderly, glad that she did not know how
-terrible had been her danger. His heart was still beating wildly
-with the thought of their marvellous escape, and his own present
-responsibility. He must run no further risks. They would keep to
-crowded trolleys, and trust to hiding in the open. The main thing was
-to get out of the city on the first train they could manage to board.
-
-When they reached East Liberty station a long train was just coming in,
-all sleepers, and they could hear the echo of a stentorian voice:
-
-“Special for Harrisburg, Baltimore and Washington! All aboard!” and
-up at the further end of the platform Gordon saw the lank form of
-the detective whom he had tried to avoid an hour before at the other
-station.
-
-Without taking time for thought he hurried Celia forward and they
-sprang breathlessly aboard. Not until they were fairly in the cars and
-the wheels moving under them did it occur to him that his companion had
-had nothing to eat since about twelve o’clock. She must be famished,
-and in a fair way to be ill again. What a fool he was not to have
-thought! They could have stopped in some obscure restaurant along the
-way as well as not, and taken a later train, and yet it was safer to
-get away at once. Without doubt there were watchers at East Liberty,
-too, and he was lucky to have got on the train without a challenge. He
-was sure that detective’s face lighted strangely as he looked his way.
-Perhaps there was a buffet attached to the train. At least, he would
-investigate. If there wasn’t, they must get off at the next stop--there
-must be another stop surely somewhere near the city--he could not
-remember, but there surely must be.
-
-They had to wait some time to get the attention of the conductor. He
-was having much trouble with some disgruntled passengers who each
-claimed to have the same berth. Gordon finally got his ear, and showing
-his stateroom tickets inquired if they could be used on this train.
-
-“No,” growled the worried conductor. “You’re on the wrong train. This
-is a special, and every berth in the train is taken now but one upper.”
-
-“Then, we’ll have to get off at the next stop, I suppose, and take the
-other train,” said Gordon dismally.
-
-“There isn’t any other stop till somewhere in the middle of the night.
-I tell you this is a special, and we’re scheduled to go straight
-through. East Liberty’s the last stop.”
-
-“Then what shall we do?” asked Gordon inanely.
-
-“I’m sure I don’t know,” snapped the conductor. “I’ve enough to do
-without mending other people’s mistakes. Stay aboard, I suppose,
-unless you want to jump off and commit suicide.”
-
-“But I have a lady with me who isn’t at all well,” said Gordon, with
-dignity.
-
-“So much the worse for the lady,” replied the conductor inhumanly.
-“There’s one upper berth, I told you.”
-
-“An upper berth wouldn’t do for her,” said Gordon decidedly. “She isn’t
-well, I tell you.”
-
-“Suit yourself!” snapped the harassed official. “I reckon it’s better
-than nothing. You may not have it long. I’m likely to be asked for it
-the next half minute.”
-
-“Is that so? And is there absolutely nothing else?”
-
-“Young man, I can’t waste words on you. I haven’t time. Take it or let
-it alone. It’s all one to me. There’s some standing room left in the
-day-coach, perhaps.”
-
-“I’ll take it,” said Gordon meekly, wishing he could go back and undo
-the last half-hour. How in the world was he to go and tell Celia that
-he could provide her nothing better than an upper berth?
-
-She was sitting with her back to him, her face resting wearily on her
-hand against the window. Two men with largely checked suits, big seal
-rings, and diamond scarf-pins sat in the opposite seat. He knew it
-was most unpleasant for her. A nondescript woman with a very large hat
-and thick powder on her face shared Celia’s seat. He reflected that
-“specials” did not always bear a select company.
-
-“Is there nothing you can do?” he pleaded with the conductor, as he
-took the bit of pasteboard entitling him to the last vacant berth.
-“Don’t you suppose you could get some man to change and give her a
-lower berth? It’ll be very hard for her. She isn’t used to upper
-berths.”
-
-His eyes rested wistfully on the bowed head. Celia had taken off her
-plumed hat, and the fitful light of the car played with the gold of her
-hair. The conductor’s grim eye softened as he looked.
-
-“That the lady? I’ll see what I can do,” he said briefly, and stumped
-off to the next car. The miracle of her presence had worked its change
-upon him.
-
-Gordon went over to Celia and told her in a low tone that he hoped to
-have arrangements made for her soon, so that she could be comfortable.
-She must be fearfully tired with the excitement and fright and hurry.
-He added that he had made a great blunder in getting on this train,
-and now there was no chance to get off for several hours, perhaps, and
-probably no supper to be had.
-
-“Oh, it doesn’t matter in the least,” said Celia wearily. “I’m not at
-all hungry.” She almost smiled when she said it. He knew that what she
-wanted was to have her mind relieved about the letters. But she readily
-saw that there was no opportunity now.
-
-She even seemed sorry at his troubled look, and tried to smile again
-through the settled sadness in her eyes. He could see she was very
-weary, and he felt like a great brute in care of a child, and mentally
-berated himself for his own thoughtlessness.
-
-Gordon started off to search for something to eat for her, and was
-more successful than he had dared hope. The newsboy had two chicken
-sandwiches left, and these, with the addition of a fine orange, a box
-of chocolates, and a glass of ice-water, he presently brought to her,
-and was rewarded by a smile this time, almost as warm and intimate as
-those she had given him during their beautiful day.
-
-But he could not sit beside her, for the places were all taken, and he
-could not stand in the aisle and talk, for the porter was constantly
-running back and forth making up the berths. There seemed to be a
-congested state of things in the whole train, every seat being full and
-men standing in the aisles. He noticed now that they all wore badges
-of some fraternal order. It was doubtless a delegation to some great
-convention, upon which they had intruded. They were a good-natured,
-noisy, happy crowd, but not anywhere among them was to be found
-a quiet spot where he and Celia could go on with their suddenly
-interrupted conversation. Presently the conductor came to him and said
-he had found a gentleman who would give the lady his lower berth and
-take her upper one. It was already made up, and the lady might take
-possession at once.
-
-Gordon made the exchange of tickets, and immediately escorted Celia to
-it. He found her most glad to go for she was now unutterably weary, and
-was longing to get away from the light and noise about her.
-
-He led the way with the suit-cases, hoping that in the other car there
-would be some spot where they could talk for a few minutes. But he was
-disappointed. It was even fuller than in the first car. He arranged
-everything for her comfort as far as possible, disposed of her hat and
-fixed her suit-case so that she could open it, but even while he was
-doing it there were people crowding by, and no private conversation
-could be had. He stepped back when all was arranged and held the
-curtain aside that she might sit on the edge of her berth. Then
-stooping over he whispered:
-
-“Try to trust me until morning. I’ll explain it all to you then, so
-that you will understand how I have had nothing to do with those
-letters. Forget it, and try to rest. Will you?”
-
-His tone was wistful. He had never wanted to do anything so much in all
-his life as to stoop and kiss those sweet lips, and the lovely eyes
-that looked up at him out of the dusky shadows of the berth, filled
-with fear and longing. They looked more than ever like the blue tired
-flowers that drooped from her gown wearily. But he held himself with a
-firm hand. She was not his to kiss. When she knew how he had deceived
-her, she would probably never give him the right to kiss her.
-
-“I will try,” she murmured in answer to his question, and then added:
-“But where will you be? Is your berth nearby?”
-
-“Not far away--that is, I had to take a place in another car, they are
-so crowded.”
-
-“Oh!” she said a little anxiously. “Are you sure you have a good
-comfortable place?”
-
-“Oh, yes, I shall be all right,” he answered joyously. It was so
-wonderful to have her care whether he was comfortable or not.
-
-The porter was making up the opposite berth, and there was no room to
-stand longer, so he bade her good night, she putting out her hand for a
-farewell. For an instant he held it close, with gentle pressure, as if
-to reassure her, then he went away to the day-coach, and settled down
-into a hard corner at the very back of the car, drawing his travelling
-cap over his eyes, and letting his heart beat out wild joy over that
-little touch of her dear hand. Wave after wave of sweetness went over
-him, thrilling his very soul with a joy he had never known before.
-
-And this was love! And what kind of a wretch was he, presuming to love
-like this a woman who was the promised bride of another man! Ah, but
-such a man! A villain! A brute, who had used his power over her to make
-her suffer tortures! Had a man like that a right to claim her? His
-whole being answered “no.”
-
-Then the memory of the look in her eyes, the turn of her head, the
-soft touch of her fingers as they lay for that instant in his, the
-inflection of her voice, would send that wave of sweetness over his
-senses, his heart would thrill anew, and he would forget the wretch who
-stood between him and this lovely girl whom he knew now he loved as he
-had never dreamed a man could love.
-
-Gradually his mind steadied itself under the sweet intoxication, and he
-began to wonder just what he should say to her in the morning. It was
-a good thing he had not had further opportunity to talk with her that
-night, for he could not have told her everything; and now if all went
-well they would be in Washington in the morning, and he might make some
-excuse till after he had delivered his message. Then he would be free
-to tell the whole story, and lay his case before her for decision. His
-heart throbbed with ecstasy as he thought of the possibility of her
-forgiving him, and yet it seemed most unlikely. Sometimes he would let
-his wild longings fancy for just an instant what joy it would be if she
-could be induced to let the marriage stand. But he told himself at the
-same time that that could never be. It was very likely that there was
-some one else in New York to whom her heart would turn if she were free
-from the scoundrel who had threatened her into a compulsory marriage.
-He would promise to help her, protect her, defend her from the man
-who was evidently using blackmail to get her into his power for some
-purpose; most likely for the sake of having control of her property.
-At least it would be some comfort to be able to help her out of her
-trouble. And yet, would she ever trust a man who had even unwittingly
-allowed her to be bound by the sacred tie of marriage to an utter
-stranger?
-
-And thus, amid hope and fear, the night whirled itself away. Forward
-in the sleeper the girl lay wide awake for a long time. In the middle
-of the night a thought suddenly evolved itself out of the blackness
-of her curtained couch. She sat upright alertly and stared into the
-darkness, as if it were a thing that she could catch and handle and
-examine. The thought was born out of a dreamy vision of the crisp
-brown waves, almost curls if they had not been so short and thick,
-that covered the head of the man who had lain sleeping outside her
-curtains in the early morning. It came to her with sudden force that
-not so had been the hair of the boy George Hayne, who used to trouble
-her girlish days. His was thin and black and oily, collecting naturally
-into little isolated strings with the least warmth, and giving him the
-appearance of a kitten who had been out in the rain. One lock, how well
-she remembered that lock!--one lock on the very crown of his head had
-always refused to lie down, no matter how much persuasion was brought
-to bear upon it. It had been the one point on which the self-satisfied
-George had been pregnable, his hair, that scalp lock that would always
-arise stiffly, oilily, from the top of his head. The hair she had
-looked at admiringly that morning in the dawning crimson of the rising
-sun had not been that way. It had curved clingingly to the shape of the
-fine head as if it loved to go that way. It was beautiful and fine and
-burnished with a sense of life and vigor in its every wave. Could hair
-change in ten years? Could it grow brown where it had been black? Could
-it become glossy instead of dull and oily? Could it take on the signs
-of natural wave where it had been as straight as a die? Could it grow
-like fur where it had been so thin?
-
-The girl could not solve the problem, but the thought was most
-startling and brought with it many suggestive possibilities that were
-most disturbing. Yet gradually out of the darkness she drew a sort of
-comfort in her dawning enlightenment. Two things she had to go on in
-her strange premises, he had said he did not write the letters, and his
-hair was not the same. Who then was he? Her husband now undoubtedly,
-but who? And if deeds and hair could change so materially, why not
-spirits? At least he was not the same as she had feared and dreaded.
-There was so much comfort.
-
-And at last she lay down and slept.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV
-
-
-They were late coming into Washington, for the Special had been
-sidetracked in the night for several express trains, and the noisy
-crowd who had kept one another awake till after midnight made up by
-sleeping far into the morning.
-
-Three times did Gordon make the journey three cars front to see if his
-companion of yesterday were awake and needed anything, but each time
-found the curtains drawn and still, and each time he went slowly back
-again to his seat in the crowded day-coach.
-
-It was not until the white dome of the capitol, and the tall needle
-of the monument, were painted soft and vision-like against the sky,
-reminding one of the pictures of the heavenly city in the story of
-Pilgrim’s Progress, and faintly suggesting a new and visionary world,
-that he sought her again, and found her fully ready, standing in the
-aisle while the porter put up the berth out of the way. Beneath the
-great brim of her purple hat, where the soft fronds of her plumes
-trembled with the motion of the train, she lifted sweet eyes to him, as
-if she were both glad and frightened to see him. And then that ecstasy
-shot through him again, as he realized suddenly what it would be to
-have her for his life-companion, to feel her looks of gladness were all
-for him, and have the right to take all fright away from her.
-
-They could only smile at each other for good-morning, for everybody
-was standing up and being brushed, and pushing here and there for
-suit-cases and lost umbrellas; and everybody talked loudly, and laughed
-a great deal, and told how late the train was. Then at last they were
-there, and could get out and walk silently side by side in the noisy
-procession through the station to the sidewalk.
-
-What little things sometimes change a lifetime, and make for our safety
-or our destruction! That very morning three keen watchers were set to
-guard that station at Washington to hunt out the government spy who had
-stolen back the stolen message, and take him, message and all, dead
-or alive, back to New York; for the man who could testify against the
-Holman Combination was not to be let live if there was such a thing as
-getting him out of the way. But they never thought to watch the Special
-which was supposed to carry only delegates to the great convention. He
-could not possibly be on that! They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh,
-for they had been so advised by telegram the evening before by one of
-their company who had seen him buying a sleeper ticket for Washington,
-but they felt safe about that Special, for they had made inquiries
-and been told no one but delegates could possibly come on it. They
-had done their work thoroughly, and were on hand with every possible
-plan perfected for bagging their game, but they took the time when the
-Pittsburgh Special was expected to arrive for eating a hearty breakfast
-in the restaurant across the street from the station. Two of them
-emerged from the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to meet the next
-Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, having placed the lady in a closed
-carriage, was getting in himself.
-
-If the carriage had stood in any other spot along the pavement in
-front of the station, they never would have seen him, but, as it was,
-they had a full view of him; and because they were Washington men, and
-experts in their line, they recognized him at once, and knew their
-plans had failed, and that only by extreme measures could they hope
-to prevent the delivery of the message which would mean downfall and
-disaster to them and their schemes.
-
-As Gordon slammed shut the door of the carriage, he caught a vision of
-his two enemies pointing excitedly toward him, and he knew that the
-bloodhounds were on the scent.
-
-His heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided between the message and
-the lady. What should he do? Drive at once to the home of his chief
-and deliver the message, or leave the girl at his rooms, ’phone for
-a faster conveyance and trust to getting to his chief ahead of his
-pursuers?
-
-“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything hinder you! Make it
-a matter of life and death!” rang the little ditty in his ears, and now
-it seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the message. And yet--“a
-matter of life and death!” He could not, must not, might not, take the
-lady with him into danger. If he must be in danger of death he did not
-want to die having exposed an innocent stranger to the same.
-
-Then there was another point to be thought of.
-
-He had already told the driver to take him to his apartments, and to
-drive as rapidly as possible. It would not do to stop him now and
-change the directions, for a pistol-shot could easily reach him yet;
-and, coming from a crowd, who would be suspected? His enemies were
-standing on the threshold of a place where there were many of their
-kind to protect them, and none of his friends knew of his coming. It
-would be a race for life from now on to the finish.
-
-Celia was looking out with interest at the streets, recognizing
-landmarks with wonder, and did not notice Gordon’s white, set face
-and burning eyes as he strained his vision to note how fast the horse
-was going. Oh, if the driver would only turn off at the next corner
-into the side street they could not watch the carriage so far, but it
-was not likely, for this was the most direct road, and yet--yes, he
-had turned! Joy! The street here was so crowded that he had sought the
-narrower, less crowded way that he might go the faster.
-
-It seemed an age to him before they stopped at his apartments. To
-Celia, it had been but a short ride, in which familiar scenes had
-brought her pleasure, for she recognized that she was not in strange
-Chicago, but in Washington, a city often visited. Somehow she felt it
-was an omen of a better future than she had feared.
-
-“Oh, why didn’t you tell me?” she smiled to Gordon. “It is Washington,
-dear old Washington.”
-
-Somehow he controlled the tumult in his heart and smiled back, saying
-in a voice quite natural:
-
-“I am so glad you like it.”
-
-She seemed to understand that they could not talk until they reached
-a quiet place somewhere, and she did not trouble him with questions.
-Instead--she looked from the window, or watched him furtively,
-comparing him with her memory of George Hayne, and wondering in her
-own thoughts. She was glad to have them to herself for just this
-little bit, for now that the morning had come she was almost afraid of
-revelation, what it might bring forth. And so it came about that they
-took the swift ride in more or less silence, and neither thought it
-strange.
-
-As the carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hurried voice, tense with
-excitement, but her own nerves were on a strain also, and she did not
-notice.
-
-“We get out here.”
-
-He had the fare ready for the driver, and, stepping out, hurried Celia
-into the shelter of the hallway. It happened that an elevator had just
-come down, so it was but a second more before they were up safe in the
-hall before his own apartment.
-
-Taking a latch-key from his pocket, he applied it to the door, flung
-it open, and ushered Celia to a large leather chair in the middle of
-the room. Then, stepping quickly to the side of the room, he touched a
-bell, and from it went to the telephone, with an “Excuse me, please,
-this is necessary,” to the girl, who sat astonished, wondering at the
-homelikeness of the room and at the “at-homeness” of the man. She had
-expected to be taken to a hotel. This seemed to be a private apartment
-with which he was perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some
-friend. But how, after an absence of years, could he remember just
-where to go, which door and which elevator to take, and how to fit the
-key with so accustomed a hand? Then her attention was arrested by his
-voice:
-
-“Give me 254 L please,” he said.... “Is this 254 L?... Is Mr. Osborne
-in?... You say he has _not_ gone to the office yet?... May I speak
-with him?... Is this Mr. Osborne?... I did not expect you to know
-my voice.... Yes, sir; just arrived, and all safe so far. Shall I
-bring it to the house or the office?... The house?... All right,
-sir. Immediately.... By the way, I am sure Hale and Burke are on my
-track. They saw me at the station.... To your house?... You will wait
-until I come?... All right, sir. Yes, immediately.... Sure, I’ll take
-precaution.... Good-by.”
-
-With the closing words came a tap at the door.
-
-“Come, Henry,” he answered, as the astonished girl turned toward the
-door. “Henry, you will go down, please, to the restaurant, and bring up
-a menu card. This lady will select what she would like to have, and you
-will serve breakfast for her in this room as soon as possible. I shall
-be out for perhaps an hour, and, meantime, you will obey any orders she
-may give you.”
-
-He did not introduce her as his wife, but she did not notice the
-omission. She had suddenly become aware of a strange, distraught haste
-in his manner, and when he said he was going out alarm seized her, she
-could not tell why.
-
-The man bowed deferentially to his master, looked his admiration and
-devotion to the lady, waited long enough to say:
-
-“I’se mighty glad to see you safe back, sah--” and disappeared to obey
-orders.
-
-Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation, but he was already at
-the telephone again:
-
-“46!... Is this the Garage?... This is The Harris Apartments.... Can
-you send Thomas with a closed car to the rear door immediately?...
-Yes.... No, I want Thomas, and a car that can speed.... Yes, the rear
-door, _rear_, and at once.... What?... What’s that?... But I _must_....
-It’s _official_ business.... Well, I thought so. Hurry them up.
-Good-by.”
-
-He turned and saw her troubled gaze following him with growing fear in
-her eyes.
-
-“What is the matter?” she asked anxiously. “Has something happened?”
-
-Just one moment he paused, and, coming toward her, laid his hands on
-hers tenderly.
-
-“Nothing the matter at all,” he said soothingly. “At least nothing
-that need worry you. It is just a matter of pressing business. I’m
-sorry to have to go from you for a little while, but it is necessary. I
-cannot explain to you until I return. You will trust me? You will not
-worry?”
-
-“I will try!”
-
-Her lips were quivering, and her eyes were filled with tears. Again he
-felt that intense longing to lay his lips upon hers and comfort her,
-but he put it from him.
-
-“There is nothing to feel sad about,” he said, smiling gently. “It is
-nothing tragic only there is need for haste, for if I wait, I may fail
-yet---- It is something that means a great deal to me. When I come back
-I will explain all.”
-
-“Go!” she said, putting out her hands in a gesture of resignation, as
-if she would hurry him from her. And though she was burning to know
-what it all meant there was that about him that compelled her to trust
-him and to wait.
-
-Then his control almost went from him. He nearly took those hands in
-his and kissed them, but he did not. Instead, he went with swift steps
-to his bedroom door, threw open a chiffonier drawer, and took therefrom
-something small and sinister. She could see the gleam of its polished
-metal, and she sensed a strange little menace in the click as he did
-something to it, she could not see what, because his back was to her.
-He came out with his hand in his pocket, as if he had just hidden
-something there.
-
-She was not familiar with firearms. Her mother had been afraid of them
-and her brother had never flourished any around the house, yet she knew
-by instinct that some weapon of defence was in Gordon’s possession;
-and a nameless horror rose in her heart and shone from her blue eyes,
-but she would not speak a word to let him know it. If he had not been
-in such haste, he would have seen. Her horror would have been still
-greater if she had known that he already carried one loaded revolver
-and was taking a second in case of an emergency.
-
-“Don’t worry,” he called as he hurried out the door. “Henry will get
-anything you need, and I shall soon be back.”
-
-The door closed and he was gone. She heard his quick step down the
-hall, heard the elevator door slide and slam again, and then she knew
-he was gone down. Outside an automobile sounded and she seemed to hear
-again his words at the phone, “The rear door.” Why had he gone to the
-rear door? Was he in hiding? Was he flying from some one? What, oh
-what, did it mean?
-
-Without stopping to reason it out, she flew across the room and opened
-the door of the bedroom he had just left, then through it passed
-swiftly to a bath-room beyond. Yes, there was a window. Would it be the
-one? Could she see him? And what good would it do her if she could?
-
-She crowded close to the window. There was a heavy sash with stained
-glass, but she selected a clear bit of yellow and put her eye close.
-Yes, there was a closed automobile just below her, and it had started
-away from the building. He had gone, then. Where?
-
-Her mind was a blank for a few minutes. She went slowly, mechanically
-back to the other room without noticing anything about her, sat down in
-the chair, putting her hands to her temples, and tried to think. Back
-to the moment in the church where he had appeared at her side and the
-service had begun. Something had told her then that he was different,
-and yet there had been those letters, and how could it possibly be
-that he had not written them? He was gone on some dangerous business.
-Of that she felt sure. There had been some caution given him by the
-man to whom he first ’phoned. He had promised to take precaution--that
-meant the little, wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket. Perhaps some
-harm would come to him, and she would never know. And then she stared
-at the opposite wall with wonder-filled eyes. Well, and suppose it
-did? Why did she care? Was he not the man whose power over her but two
-short days ago would have made her welcome death as her deliverer? Why
-was all changed now? Just because he had smiled upon her and been kind?
-Had given her a few wild flowers and said her eyes were like them? Had
-hair that waved instead of being straight and thin? And where was all
-her loyalty to her dear dead father’s memory? How could she mind that
-danger should come to one who had threatened to tell terrible lies that
-should blacken him in the thoughts of people who had loved him? Had
-she forgotten the letters? Was she willing to forgive all just because
-he had declared that he did not write them? How foolish! He said he
-could prove that he did not, but of course that was all nonsense. He
-must have written them. And yet there was the wave in his hair, and the
-kindness in his eyes. And he had looked--oh, he had looked terrible
-things when he had read that letter; as if he would like to wreak
-vengeance on the man who had written it. Could a man masquerade that
-way?
-
-And then a new solution to the problem came to her. Suppose
-this--whoever he was--this man who had married her, had gone out to
-find and punish George Hayne? Suppose---- But then she covered her eyes
-with her hands and shuddered. Yet why should she care? But she did.
-Suppose he should be killed, himself! Who was he if not George Hayne
-and how did he come to take his place? Was it just another of George’s
-terrible tricks upon her?
-
-A quick vision came of their bringing him back to her. He would lie,
-perhaps, on that great crimson leather couch over there, just as he had
-lain in the dawning of the morning in the stateroom of the train, with
-his hands hanging limp, and one perhaps across his breast, as if he
-were guarding something, and his bright waves of brown hair lying heavy
-about his forehead--only, his forehead would be white, so white and
-cold, with a little blue mark in his temple perhaps.
-
-The footsteps of the man Henry brought her back to the present again.
-She smiled at him pleasantly as he entered, and answered his questions
-about what she would have for breakfast; but it was he who selected the
-menu, not she, and after he had gone she could not have told what she
-had ordered. She could not get away from the vision on the couch. She
-closed her eyes and pressed her cold fingers against her eyeballs to
-drive it away, but still her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her.
-
-The colored man came back presently with a loaded tray, and set it down
-on a little table which he wheeled before her, as though he had done
-it many times before. She thanked him, and said there was nothing else
-she needed, so he went away.
-
-She toyed with the cup of delicious coffee which he had poured for her,
-and the few swallows she took gave her new heart. She broke a bit from
-a hot roll, and ate a little of the delicious steak, but still her mind
-was at work at the problem, and her heart was full of nameless anxiety.
-
-He had gone away without any breakfast himself, and he had had no
-supper the night before, she was sure. He probably had given to her
-everything he could get on the train. She was haunted with regret
-because she had not shared with him. She got up and walked about the
-room, trying to shake off the horror that was upon her, and the dread
-of what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily she would have
-thought of sending a message to her mother and brother, but her mind
-was so troubled now that it never occurred to her.
-
-The walls of the room were tinted a soft greenish gray, and above the
-picture moulding they blended into a woodsy landscape with a hint
-of water, greensward, and blue sky through interlacing branches. It
-reminded her of the little village they had seen as they started from
-the train in the early morning light. What a beautiful day they had
-spent together and how it had changed her whole attitude of heart
-toward the man she had married!
-
-Two or three fine pictures were hung in good lights. She studied them,
-and knew that the one who had selected and hung them was a judge of
-true art; but they did not hold her attention long, for as yet, she had
-not connected the room with the man for whom she waited.
-
-A handsome mahogany desk stood open in a broad space by the window. She
-was attracted by a little painted miniature of a woman. She took it up
-and studied the face. It was fine and sweet, with brown hair dressed
-low, and eyes that reminded her of the man who had just gone from her.
-Was this, then, the home of some relative with whom he had come to stop
-for a day or two, and, if so, where was the relative? The dress in the
-miniature was of a quarter of a century past, yet the face was young
-and sweet, as young, perhaps, as herself. She wondered who it was. She
-put the miniature back in place with caressing hand. She felt that she
-would like to know this woman with the tender eyes. She wished her here
-now, that she might tell her all her anxiety.
-
-Her eye wandered to the pile of letters, some of them official-looking
-ones, one or two in square, perfumed envelopes, with high, angular
-writing. They were all addressed to Mr. Cyril Gordon. That was
-strange! Who was Mr. Cyril Gordon? What had they--what had she--to do
-with him? Was he a friend whom George--whom they--were visiting for a
-few days? It was all bewildering.
-
-Then the telephone rang.
-
-Her heart beat wildly and she looked toward it as if it had been a
-human voice speaking and she had no power to answer. What should she do
-now? Should she answer? Or should she wait for the man to come? Could
-the man hear the telephone bell or was she perhaps expected to answer?
-And yet if Mr. Cyril Gordon--well, somebody ought to answer. The ’phone
-rang insistently once more, and still a third time. What if _he_ should
-be calling her! Perhaps he was in distress. This thought sent her
-flying to the ’phone. She took down the receiver and called:
-
-“Hello!” and her voice sounded far away to herself.
-
-“Is this Mr. Gordon’s apartment?”
-
-“Yes,” she answered, for her eyes were resting on the pile of letters
-close at hand.
-
-“Is Mr. Gordon there?”
-
-“No, he is not,” she answered, growing more confident now and almost
-wishing she had not presumed to answer a stranger’s ’phone.
-
-“Why, I just ’phoned to the office and they told me he had returned,”
-said a voice that had an imperious note in it. “Are you sure he isn’t
-there?”
-
-“Quite sure,” she replied.
-
-“Who is this, please?”
-
-“I beg your pardon,” said Celia trying to make time and knowing not
-how to reply. She was not any longer Miss Hathaway. Who was she? Mrs.
-Hayne? She shrank from the name. It was filled with horror for her.
-“Who is this, I said,” snapped the other voice now. “Is this the
-chambermaid? Because if it is I’d like you to look around and inquire
-and be quite sure that Mr. Gordon isn’t there. I wish to speak with him
-about something very important.”
-
-Celia smiled.
-
-“No, this is not the chambermaid,” she said sweetly, “and I am quite
-sure Mr. Gordon is not here.”
-
-“How long before he will be there?”
-
-“I don’t know really, for I have but just come myself.”
-
-“Who is this to whom I am talking?”
-
-“Why--just a friend,” she answered, wondering if that were the best
-thing to say.
-
-“Oh!” there was a long and contemplative pause at the other end.
-
-“Well, could you give Mr. Gordon a message when he comes in?”
-
-“Why certainly, I think so. Who is this?”
-
-“Miss Bentley. Julia Bentley. He’ll know,” replied the imperious one
-eagerly now. “And tell him please that he is expected here to dinner
-to-night. We need him to complete the number, and he simply mustn’t
-fail me. I’ll excuse him for going off in such a rush if he comes early
-and tells me all about it. Now you won’t forget, will you? You got the
-name, Bentley, did you? B, E, N, T, L, E, Y, you know. And you’ll tell
-him the minute he comes in?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Thank you! What did you say your name was?”
-
-But Celia had hung up. Somehow the message annoyed her, she could not
-tell why. She wished she had not answered the ’phone. Whoever Mr. Cyril
-Gordon was what should she do if he should suddenly appear? And as for
-this imperious lady and her message she hoped she would never have to
-deliver it. On second thought why not write it and leave it on his desk
-with the pile of letters? She would do it. It would serve to pass away
-a few of these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully.
-
-She sat down and wrote: “Miss Bentley wishes Mr. Gordon to dine with
-her this evening. She will pardon his running away the other day if he
-will come early.” She laid it beside the high angular writing on the
-square perfumed letters and went back to the leather chair too restless
-to rest yet too weary to stand up.
-
-She went presently to the back windows to look out, and then to the
-side ones. Across the housetops she could catch a glimpse of domes and
-buildings. There was the Congressional Library, which usually delighted
-her with its exquisite tones of gold and brown and white. But she had
-no eyes for it now. Beyond were more buildings, all set in the lovely
-foliage which was much farther developed than it had been in New York
-State. From another window she could get a glimpse of the Potomac
-shining in the morning sun.
-
-She wandered to the front windows and looked out. There were people
-passing and repassing. It was a busy street, but she could not make out
-whether it was one she knew or not. There were two men walking back and
-forth on the opposite side. They did not go further than the corner of
-the street either way. They looked across at the windows sometimes and
-pointed up, when they met, and once one of them took something out of
-his pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side, as if to have it
-ready for use. It reminded her of the thing her husband had held in his
-hand in the bedroom and she shuddered. She watched them, fascinated,
-not able to draw herself away from the window.
-
-Now and then she would go to the rear window, to see if there was any
-sign of the automobile returning, and then hurry back to the front, to
-see if the men were still there. Once she returned to the chair, and,
-lying back, shut her eyes, and let the memory of yesterday sweep over
-her in all its sweet details, up to the time when they had got into the
-way train and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty to her father. But
-now her heart was all on the other side, and she began to feel that
-there had been some dreadful mistake, somewhere, and he was surely all
-right. He could not, could not have written those terrible letters.
-Then again the details of their wild carriage ride in Pittsburgh
-and miraculous escape haunted her. There was something strange and
-unexplained about that which she must understand.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV
-
-
-Meantime, Gordon was speeding away to another part of the city by the
-fastest time an experienced chauffeur dared to make. About the time
-they turned the first corner into the avenue, two burly policemen
-sauntered casually into the pretty square in front of the house where
-lived the chief of the Secret Service. There was nothing about their
-demeanor to show that they had been detailed there by special urgency,
-and three men who hurried to the little park just across the street
-from the house could not possibly know that their leisurely and
-careless stroll was the result of a hurried telephone message from the
-chief to police headquarters immediately after his message from Gordon.
-
-The policemen strolled by the house, greeted each other, and walked
-on around the square across the little park. They eyed the three men
-sitting idly on a bench, and passed leisurely on. They disappeared
-around a corner, and to the three men were out of the way. The latter
-did not know the hidden places where the officers took up their watch,
-and when an automobile appeared, and the three stealthily got up from
-their park bench and distributed themselves among the shrubbery near
-the walk, they knew not that their every movement was observed with
-keen attention. But they did wonder how it happened that those two
-policemen seemed to spring out of the ground suddenly, just as the auto
-came to a halt in front of the chief’s house.
-
-Gordon sprang out and up the steps with a bound, the door opening
-before him as if he were expected. The two grim and apparently
-indifferent policemen stood outside like two stone images on guard,
-while up the street with rhythmic sound rode two mounted police, also
-coming to a halt before the house as if for a purpose. The three men in
-the bushes hid their instruments of death, and would have slunk away
-had there been a chance; but, turning to make a hasty flight, they were
-met by three more policemen. There was the crack of a revolver as one
-of the three desperadoes tried a last reckless dash for freedom--and
-failed. The wretch went to justice with his right arm hanging limp by
-his side.
-
-Inside the house Gordon was delivering up his message, and as he
-laid it before his chief, and stood silent while the elder man read
-and pondered its tremendous import, it occurred to him for the first
-time that his chief would require some report of his journey, and
-the hindrances that had made him a whole day late in getting back to
-Washington. His heart stood still with sudden panic. What was he to
-do? How could he tell it all? What right had he to tell of his marriage
-to an unknown woman? A marriage that perhaps was not a marriage. He
-could not know what the outcome would be until he had told the girl
-everything. As far as he himself was concerned he knew that the great
-joy of his life had come to him in her. Yet he could not hope that it
-would be so with her. And he must think of her and protect her good
-name in every way. If there should be such a thing ever as that she
-should consent to remain with him and be his wife he must never let a
-soul know but what the marriage had been planned long ago. It would not
-be fair to her. It would make life intolerable for them both either
-together or apart. And while he might be and doubtless was perfectly
-safe in confiding in his chief, and asking him to keep silence about
-the matter, still he felt that even that would be a breach of faith
-with Celia. He must close his lips upon the story until he could talk
-with her and know her wishes. He drew a sigh of weariness. It was a
-long, hard way he had come, and it was not over. The worst ordeal would
-be his confession to the bride who was not his wife.
-
-The chief looked up.
-
-“Could you make this out, Gordon?” he asked, noting keenly the young
-man’s weary eyes, the strained, tense look about his mouth.
-
-“Oh, yes sir; I saw it at once. I was almost afraid my eyes might
-betray the secret before I got away with it.”
-
-“Then you know what you have saved the country, and what you have been
-worth to the Service.”
-
-The young man flushed with pleasure.
-
-“Thank you, sir,” he said, looking down. “I understood it was
-important, and I am glad I was able to accomplish the errand without
-failing.”
-
-“Have you reason to suppose you were followed, except for what you saw
-at the station in this city?”
-
-“Yes, sir; I am sure there were detectives after me as I was leaving
-New York. They were suspicious of me. I saw one of the men who had
-been at the dinner with me watching me. The disguise--and--some
-circumstances--threw him off. He wasn’t sure. Then, there was a
-man--you know him, Balder--at Pittsburgh?----”
-
-“Pittsburgh!”
-
-“Yes, you wonder how I got to Pittsburgh. You see, I was shadowed
-almost from the first I suspect, for when I reached the station in
-New York I was sure I recognized this man who had sat opposite me a
-few minutes before. I suppose my disguise, which you so thoughtfully
-provided, bothered him, for though he followed me about at a little
-distance he didn’t speak to me. I had to get on the first train that
-circumstances permitted, and perhaps the fact that it was a Chicago
-train made him think he was mistaken in me. Anyhow I saw no more of him
-after the train left the station. Rather unexpectedly I found I could
-get the drawing-room compartment, and went into immediate retirement,
-leaving the train at daylight where it was delayed on a side track,
-and walked across country till I found a conveyance that took me to a
-Pittsburgh train. It didn’t seem feasible to get away from the Chicago
-train any sooner as the train made no further stops, and it was rather
-late at night by the time I boarded it. I thought I would run less risk
-by making a détour. I never dreamed they would have watchers out for
-me at Pittsburgh, and I can’t think yet how they managed to get on my
-track, but almost the first minute I landed I spied Balder stretching
-his neck over the crowds. I bolted from the station at once and finding
-a carriage drawn up before the door just ready for me I got in and
-ordered them to drive me to East Liberty station.
-
-“I am afraid I shall always be suspicious of handy closed carriages
-after this experience. I certainly have reason to be. The door was no
-sooner closed on me than the driver began to race like mad through the
-streets. I didn’t think much of it at first until he had been going
-some time, fully long enough to have reached East Liberty, and the
-horse was still rushing like a locomotive. Then I saw that we were in a
-lonely district of the city that seemed unfamiliar. That alarmed me and
-I tapped on the window and called to the driver. He paid no attention.
-Then I found the doors were fastened shut, and the windows plugged so
-they wouldn’t open.
-
-“I discovered that an armed man rode beside the driver. I managed to
-get one of the doors open after a good deal of work, and escaped when
-we stopped for a freight train to pass; but I’m satisfied that I was
-being kidnapped and if I hadn’t got away just when I did you would
-never have heard of me again or the message either. I finally managed
-to reach East Liberty station and jumped on the first train that came
-in, but I caught a glimpse of Balder stretching his neck over the
-crowd. He must have seen me and had Hale and Burke on the watch when I
-got here. They just missed me by a half second. They went over to the
-restaurant--didn’t expect me on a special, but I escaped them, and I’m
-mighty glad to get that little paper into your possession and out of
-mine. It’s rather a long story to tell the whole, but I think you have
-the main facts.”
-
-There was a suspicious glitter in the keen eyes of the kind old chief
-as he put out his hand and grasped Gordon’s in a hearty shake; but all
-he said was:
-
-“And you are all worn out--I’ll guarantee you didn’t sleep much last
-night.”
-
-“Well, no,” said Gordon; “I had to sit up in a day-coach and share the
-seat with another man. Besides, I was somewhat excited.”
-
-“Of course, of course!” puffed the old chief, coughing vigorously, and
-showing by his gruff attitude that he was deeply affected. “Well, young
-man, this won’t be forgotten by the Department. Now you go home and
-take a good sleep. Take the whole day off if you wish, and then come
-down to-morrow morning and tell me all about it. Isn’t there anything
-more I need to know at once that justice may be done?”
-
-“I believe not,” said Gordon, with a sigh of relief. “There’s a list
-of the men who were at the dinner with me. I wrote them down from
-memory last night when I couldn’t sleep. I also wrote a few scraps of
-conversation, which will show you just how deep the plot had gone. If
-I had not read the message and known its import, I should not have
-understood what they were talking about.”
-
-“H-m! Yes. If there had been more time before you started I might have
-told you all about it. Still, it seemed desirable that you should
-appear as much at your ease as possible. I thought this would be best
-accomplished by your knowing nothing of the import of the writing when
-you first met the people.”
-
-“I suppose it was as well that I did not know any more than I did. You
-are a great chief, sir! I was deeply impressed anew with that fact as
-I saw how wonderfully you had planned for every possible emergency. It
-was simply great, sir.”
-
-“Pooh! Pooh! Get you home and to bed,” said the old chief quite
-brusquely.
-
-He touched a bell and a man appeared.
-
-“Jessup, is the coast clear?” he asked.
-
-“Yessah,” declared the darky. “Dey have jest hed a couple o’ shots in
-de pahk, an’ now dey tuk de villains off to der p’lice station. De
-officers is out der waitin’ to ’scort de gemman.”
-
-“Get home with you, Gordon, and don’t come to the office till ten in
-the morning. Then come straight to my private room.”
-
-Gordon thanked him, and left the room preceded by the gray-haired
-servant. He was surprised to find the policemen outside, and wondered
-still more that they seemed to be going one in front and the other
-behind him as he rode along. He was greatly relieved that he had not
-been called upon to give the whole story. His heart was filled with
-anxiety now to get back to the girl, and tell her everything, and yet
-he dreaded it more than anything he had ever had to face in all his
-life. He sat back on the cushions, and, covering his face with his
-hands, tried to think how he should begin, but he could see nothing but
-her sweet eyes filled with tears, think of nothing but the way she had
-looked and smiled during the beautiful morning they had spent together
-in the little town of Milton. Beautiful little Milton. Should he ever
-see it again?
-
-Celia at her window grew more and more nervous as an hour and then
-another half-hour slipped slowly away, and still he did not come.
-Then two mounted policemen rode rapidly down the street following an
-automobile, in which sat the man for whom she waited.
-
-She had no eyes now for the men who had been lurking across the way,
-and when she thought to look for them again she saw them running in the
-opposite direction as fast as they could go, making wild gestures for a
-car to stop for them.
-
-She stood by the window and saw Gordon get out of the car, and
-disappear into the building below, saw the car wheel and curve away
-and the mounted police take up their stand on either corner; heard the
-clang of the elevator as it started up, and the clash of its door as
-it stopped at that floor; heard steps coming on toward the door, and
-the key in the latch. Then she turned and looked at him, her two hands
-clasped before her, and her two eyes yearning, glad and fearful all at
-once.
-
-“Oh, I have been so frightened about you! I am so glad you have come!”
-she said, and caught her voice in a sob as she took one little step
-toward him.
-
-He threw his hat upon the floor, wherever it might land, and went
-to meet her, a great light glowing in his tired eyes, his arms
-outstretched to hers.
-
-“And did you care?” he asked in a voice of almost awe. “Dear, did you
-_care_ what became of _me_?”
-
-He had come quite close to her now.
-
-“Oh yes, I _cared_! I could not help it.” There was a real sob in her
-voice now, though her eyes were shining.
-
-His arms went around her hungrily, as if he would draw her to him in
-spite of everything; yet he kept them so encircling, without touching
-her, like a benediction that would enwrap the very soul of his beloved.
-Looking down into her face he breathed softly:
-
-“Oh, my dear, it seems as if I must hold you close and kiss you!”
-
-She looked up with bated breath, and thought she understood. Then,
-with a lovely gesture of surrender, she whispered, “I can trust you.”
-Her lashes were drooping now over her eyes.
-
-“Not until you know all,” he said, and put her gently from him into the
-great arm-chair, with a look of reverence and self-abnegation she felt
-she never would forget.
-
-“Then, tell me quickly,” she said, a swift fear making her weak from
-head to foot. She laid her hand across her heart, as if to help steady
-its beating.
-
-He wheeled forward the leather couch opposite her chair, and sat down,
-his head drooping, his eyes down. He dreaded to begin.
-
-She waited for the revelation, her eyes upon his bowed head.
-
-Finally he lifted his eyes and saw her look, and a tender light came
-into his face.
-
-“It is a strange story,” he said. “I don’t know what you will think of
-me after it is told, but I want you to know that, blundering, stupid,
-even criminal, though you may think me, I would sooner die this minute
-than cause you one more breath of suffering.”
-
-Her eyes lit up with a wonderful light, and the ready tears sprang into
-them, tears that sparkled through the sunshine of a great joy that
-illumined her whole face.
-
-“Please go on,” she said softly, and added very gently, “I believe you.”
-
-But even with those words in his ears the beginning was not easy.
-Gordon drew a deep breath and launched forth.
-
-“I am not the man you think,” he said, and looked at her to see how she
-would take it. “My name is not George Hayne. My name is Cyril Gordon.”
-
-As one might launch an arrow at a beloved victim and long that it may
-not strike the mark, so he sent his truth home to her understanding,
-and waited in breathless silence, hoping against hope that this might
-not turn her against him.
-
-“Oh!” she breathed softly, as if some puzzle were solving itself.
-“Oh!”--this time not altogether in surprise, nor as if the fact were
-displeasing. She looked at him expectantly for further revelation, and
-he plunged into his story headlong.
-
-“I’m a member of the Secret Service,--headquarters here in
-Washington,--and day before yesterday I was sent to New York on an
-important errand. A message of great import written in a private code
-had been stolen from one of our men. I was sent to get it before they
-could decipher it. The message involved matters of such tremendous
-significance that I was ordered to go under an assumed name, and on
-no account to let anyone know of my mission. My orders were to get the
-message, and let nothing hinder me in bringing it with all haste to
-Washington. I went with the full understanding that I might even be
-called upon to risk my life.”
-
-He looked up. The girl sat wide-eyed, with hands clasped together at
-her throat.
-
-He hurried on, not to cause her any needless anxiety.
-
-“I won’t weary you with details. There were a good many annoying
-hindrances on the way, which served to make me nervous, but I carried
-out the programme laid down by my chief, and succeeded in getting
-possession of the message and making my escape from the house of the
-man who had stolen it. As I closed the door behind me, knowing that it
-could be but a matter of a few seconds at longest before six furious
-men would be on my track, who would stop at nothing to get back what
-I had taken from them, I saw a carriage standing almost before the
-house. The driver took me for the man he awaited, and I lost no time in
-taking advantage of his mistake. I jumped in, telling him to drive as
-fast as he could. I intended to give him further directions, but he had
-evidently had them from another quarter, and I thought I could call to
-him as soon as we were out of the dangerous neighborhood. To add to
-my situation I soon became sure that an automobile and a motor-cycle
-were following me. I recognized one of the men in the car as the man
-who sat opposite to me at the table a few minutes before. My coachman
-drove like mad, while I hurried to secure the message so that if I were
-caught it would not be found, and to put on a slight disguise--some
-eyebrows and things the chief had given me. Before I knew where I was,
-the carriage had stopped before a building. At first I thought it was
-a prison--and the car and motor-cycle came to a halt just behind me. I
-felt that I was pretty well trapped.”
-
-The girl gave a low moan, and Gordon, not daring to look up, hurried on
-with his story.
-
-“There isn’t much more to tell that you do not already know. I soon
-discovered the building was a church, not a prison. What happened
-afterward was the result of my extreme perturbation of mind, I suppose.
-I cannot account for my stupidity and subsequent cowardice in any other
-way. Neither was it possible for me to explain matters satisfactorily
-at any time during the whole mix-up, on account of the trust which I
-carried, and which I could on no account reveal even in confidence,
-or put in jeopardy in the slightest degree. Naturally at first my
-commission and how to get safely through it all was the only thing of
-importance to me. If you keep this in mind perhaps you will be able
-to judge me less harshly. My only thought when the carriage came to a
-halt was how to escape from those two pursuers, and that more or less
-pervaded my mind during what followed so that ordinary matters which at
-another time would have been at once clear to me, meant nothing at all.
-You see, the instant that carriage came to a standstill some one threw
-open the door, and I heard a voice call ‘Where is the best man?’ Then
-another voice said, ‘Here he is!’ I took it that they thought I was
-best man, but would soon discover that I wasn’t when I came into the
-light. There wasn’t any chance to slip away, or I should have done so,
-and vanished in the dark, but everybody surrounded me, and seemed to
-think I was all right. The two men who had followed were close behind
-eyeing me keenly. I’m satisfied that they were to blame for that wild
-ride we took in Pittsburgh! I soon saw by the remarks that the man
-I was supposed to be had been away from this country for ten years,
-and of course then they would not be very critical. I tried twice to
-explain that there was a mistake, but both times they misunderstood
-me and thought I was saying I couldn’t go in the procession because
-I hadn’t practised. I don’t just know how I came to be in such a
-dreadful mess. It would seem as if it ought to have been a very easy
-thing to say I had got into the wrong carriage and they must excuse me,
-that I wasn’t their man, but, you see, they gave me no time to think
-nor to speak. They just turned me over from one man to another and took
-everything for granted, and I, finding that I would have to break loose
-and flee before their eyes if I wished to escape, reflected that there
-would be no harm in marching down the aisle as best man in a delayed
-wedding, if that was all there was to do. I could disappear as soon as
-the ceremony was over, and no one would be the wiser. The real best man
-would probably turn up and then they might wonder as they pleased for I
-would be far away and perhaps this was as good a place as any in which
-to hide for half an hour until my pursuers were baffled and well on
-their way seeking elsewhere for me. I can see now that I made a grave
-mistake in allowing even so much deception, but I did not see any harm
-in it then, and they all seemed in great distress for the ceremony to
-go forward. Bear in mind also that I was at that time entirely taken up
-with the importance of hiding my message until I could take it safely
-to my chief. Nothing else seemed to matter much. If the real best man
-was late to the wedding and they were willing to use me in his place
-what harm could come from it? He certainly deserved it for being late
-and if he came in during the ceremony he would think some one else had
-been put in his place. They introduced me to your brother--Jefferson.
-I thought he was the bridegroom, and I thought so until they laid your
-hand in mine!”
-
-“Oh!” she moaned, and the little hand went to help its mate cover her
-face.
-
-“I knew it!” he said bitterly. “I knew you would feel just that way
-as soon as you knew. I don’t blame you. I deserve it! I was a fool, a
-villain, a dumb brute--whatever you have a mind to call me! You can’t
-begin to understand how I have suffered for you since this happened,
-and how I have blamed myself.”
-
-He got up suddenly and strode over to the window, frowning down into
-the sunlit street, and wondering how it was that everybody seemed to
-be going on in exactly the same hurry as ever, when for him life had
-suddenly come to a standstill.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI
-
-
-The room was very still. The girl did not even sob. He turned after
-a moment and went back to that bowed golden head there in the deep
-crimson chair.
-
-“Look here,” he said, “I know you can’t ever forgive me. I don’t expect
-it! I don’t deserve it! But please don’t feel so awfully about it. I’ll
-explain it all to every one. I’ll make it all right for you. I’ll take
-every bit of blame on myself, and get plenty of witnesses to prove all
-about it----”
-
-The girl looked up with sorrow and surprise in her wet eyes.
-
-“Why, I do not blame you,” she said, mournfully. “I cannot see how
-you were to blame. It was no one’s fault. It was just an unusual
-happening--a strange set of circumstances. I could not blame you. There
-is nothing to forgive, and if there were I would gladly forgive it!”
-
-“Then what on earth makes you look so white and feel so distressed?” he
-asked in a distracted voice, as a man will sometimes look and talk to
-the woman he loves when she becomes a tearful problem of despair to his
-obtuse eyes.
-
-“Oh, don’t you know?”
-
-“No, I don’t,” he said. “You’re surely not mourning for that brute of a
-man to whom you had promised to sacrifice your life?”
-
-She shook her head, and buried her face in her hands again. He could
-see that the tears were dropping between her fingers, and they seemed
-to fall red hot upon his heart.
-
-“Then what is it?” His tone was almost sharp in its demand, but she
-only cried the harder. Her slender shoulders were shaking with her
-grief now.
-
-He put his hand down softly and touched her bowed head.
-
-“Won’t you tell me, Dear?” he breathed, and, stooping, knelt beside her.
-
-The sobs ceased, and she was quite still for a moment, while his hand
-still lay on her hair with that gentle, pleading touch.
-
-“It is--because you married me--in--that way--without knowing---- Oh,
-can’t you see how terrible----”
-
-Oh, the folly and blindness of love! Gordon got up from his knees as if
-she had stung him.
-
-“You need not feel bad about that any more,” he said in a hurt tone.
-“Did I not tell you I would set you free at once? Surely no one in his
-senses could call you bound after such circumstances.”
-
-She was very still for an instant, as if he had struck her, and then
-she raised her golden head, and a pair of sweet eyes suddenly grown
-haughty.
-
-“You mean that _I_ will set _you_ free!” she said coldly. “I could not
-think of letting you be bound by a misunderstanding when you were under
-great stress of mind. You were in no wise to blame. _I_ will set _you_
-free.”
-
-“As you please,” he retorted bitterly, turning toward the window again.
-“It all amounts to the same thing. There is nothing for you to feel bad
-about.”
-
-“Yes, there is,” she answered, with a quick rush of feeling that broke
-through her assumed haughtiness. “I shall always feel that I have
-broken in upon your life. You have had a most trying experience with
-me, and you never can quite forget it. Things won’t be the same----”
-
-She paused and the quiet tears chased each other eloquently down her
-face.
-
-“No,” said Gordon still bitterly; “things will never be the same for
-me. I shall always see you sitting there in my chair. I shall always be
-missing you from it! But I am glad--glad. I would never have known what
-I missed if it had not been for this.” He spoke almost savagely.
-
-He did not look around, but she was staring at him in astonishment, her
-blue eyes suddenly alight.
-
-“What do you mean?” she asked softly.
-
-He wheeled round upon her. “I mean that I shall never forget you; that
-I do not want to forget you. I should rather have had these two days of
-your sweet company, than all my lifetime in any other companionship.”
-
-“Oh!” she breathed. “Then, why--why did you say what you did about
-being free?”
-
-“I didn’t say anything about being free that I remember. It was you
-that said that.”
-
-“I said I would set you free. I could not, of course, hold you to a
-bond you did not want----”
-
-“But I did not say I did not want it. I said I would not hold you if
-_you_ did not want to stay.”
-
-“Do you mean that if you had known me a little--that is, just as much
-as you know me now--and had come in there and found out your mistake
-before it was too late, that you would have _wanted_ to go on with it?”
-
-She waited for his answer breathlessly.
-
-“If you had known me just as much as you do now, and had looked up and
-seen that it was I and not George Hayne you were marrying, would _you_
-have wanted to go on and be married?”
-
-Her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes confused.
-
-“I asked you first,” she said, with just a flicker of a smile.
-
-He caught the shimmer of light in her eyes, and came toward her
-eagerly, his own face all aglow now with a dawning understanding.
-
-“Darling,” he said, “I can go farther than you have asked. From the
-first minute my eyes rested upon your face under that mist of white
-veil I wished with all my heart that I might have known you before any
-other man had found and won you. When you turned and looked at me with
-that deep sorrow in your eyes, you pledged me with every fibre of my
-being to fight for you. I was yours from that instant. And when your
-little hand was laid in mine, my heart went out in longing to have it
-stay in mine forever. I know now, as I did not understand then, that
-the real reason for my not doing something to make known my identity
-at that instant was not because I was afraid of any of the things
-that might happen, or any scene I might make, but because my heart
-was fighting for the right to keep what had been given me out of the
-unknown. You are my wife, by every law of heaven and earth, if your
-heart will but say yes. I love you, as I never knew a man could love,
-and yet if you do not want to stay with me I will set you free; but it
-is true that I should never be the same, for I am married to you in my
-heart, and always shall be. Darling, look up and answer my question
-now.”
-
-He stood before her with outstretched arms, and for answer she rose and
-came to him slowly, with downcast eyes.
-
-“I do not want to be set free,” she said.
-
-Then gently, tenderly, he folded his arms about her, as if she were too
-precious to handle roughly, and laid his lips upon hers.
-
-It was the shrill, insistent clang of the telephone bell that broke in
-upon their bliss. For a moment Gordon let it ring, but its merciless
-clatter was not to be denied; so, drawing Celia close within his arm,
-he made her come with him to the ’phone.
-
-To his annoyance, the haughty voice of Miss Bentley answered him from
-the little black distance of the ’phone.
-
-His arm was about Celia, and she felt his whole body stiffen with
-formality.
-
-“Oh, Miss Bentley! Good-morning! Your message? Why no! Ah! Well, I have
-but just come in----”
-
-A pause during which Celia, panic-stricken, handed him the paper on
-which she had written Julia’s message.
-
-“Ah! Oh, yes, I have the message. Yes, it is very kind of you--” he
-murmured stiffly, “but you will have to excuse me. No, really. It
-is utterly impossible! I have another engagement--” his arm stole
-closer around Celia’s waist and caught her hand, holding it with a
-meaningful pressure. He smiled, with a grimace toward the telephone
-which gladdened her heart. “Pardon me, I didn’t hear that,” he went
-on.... “Oh, give up my engagement and come?... Not possibly!” His
-voice rang with a glad, decided force, and he held still closer the
-soft fingers in his hand.... “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way about
-it. I certainly am not trying to be disagreeable. No, I could not come
-to-morrow night either.... I cannot make any plans for the next few
-days.... I may have to leave town again.... It is quite possible I may
-have to return to New York. Yes, business has been very pressing. I
-hope you will excuse me. I am sorry to disappoint you. No, of course
-I didn’t do it on purpose. I shall have some pleasant news to tell
-you when I see you again--or--” with a glance of deep love at Celia,
-“perhaps I shall find means to let you know of it before I see you.”
-
-The color came and went in Celia’s cheeks. She understood what he meant
-and nestled closer to him.
-
-“No, no, I could not tell it over the ’phone. No, it will keep. Good
-things will always keep if they are well cared for you know. No, really
-I can’t. And I’m very sorry to disappoint you to-night, but it can’t
-be helped.... Good-by.”
-
-He hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief.
-
-“Who is Miss Bentley?” asked Celia, with natural interest. She was
-pleased that he had not addressed her as “Julia.”
-
-“Why, she is--a friend--I suppose you would call her. She has been
-taking possession of my time lately rather more than I really enjoyed.
-Still, she is a nice girl. You’ll like her, I think; but I hope you’ll
-never get too intimate. I shouldn’t like to have her continually
-around. She----” he paused and finished, laughing--“she makes me tired.”
-
-“I was afraid, from her tone when she ’phoned you, that she was a very
-dear friend--that she might be some one you cared for. There was a sort
-of proprietorship in her tone.”
-
-“Yes, that’s the very word, proprietorship,” he laughed. “I couldn’t
-care for her. I never did. I tried to consider her in that light one
-day, because I’d been told repeatedly that I ought to settle down, but
-the thought of having her with me always was--well--intolerable. The
-fact is, you reign supreme in a heart that has never loved another
-girl. I didn’t know there was such a thing as love like this. I knew I
-lacked something, but I didn’t know what it was. This is greater than
-all the gifts of life, this gift of your love. And that it should come
-to me in this beautiful, unsought way seems too good to be true!”
-
-He drew her to him once more and looked down into her lovely face, as
-if he could not drink enough of its sweetness.
-
-“And to think you are willing to be my wife! My wife!” and he folded
-her close again.
-
-A discreet tap on the door announced the arrival of the man Henry, and
-Gordon roused to the necessity of ordering lunch.
-
-He stepped to the door with a happy smile and held it open.
-
-“Come in a minute, Henry,” he said. “This is my wife. I hope you will
-henceforth take her wishes as your special charge, and do for her as
-you have done so faithfully for me.”
-
-The man’s eyes shone with pleasure as he bowed low before the gentle
-lady.
-
-“I is very glad to heah it, sah, and I offers you my
-congratchumlations, sah, and de lady, too. She can’t find no bettah man
-in the whole United States dan Mars’ Gordon. I’s mighty glad you done
-got ma’ied, sah, an’ I hopes you bof have a mighty fine life.”
-
-The luncheon was served in Henry’s best style, and his dark face shone
-as he stepped noiselessly about, putting silver and china and glass in
-place, and casting admiring glances at the lady, who stood holding the
-little miniature in her hand and asking questions with a gentle voice:
-
-“Your mother, you say? How dear she is! And she died so long ago!
-You never knew her? Oh, how strange and sweet and pitiful to have a
-beautiful girl-mother like that!”
-
-She put out her hand to his in the shelter of the deep window, and
-they thought Henry did not see the look and touch that passed between
-them; but he discreetly averted his eyes and smiled benignly at the
-salt-cellars and the celery he was arranging. Then he hurried out to
-a florist’s next door and returned with a dozen white roses, which he
-arranged in a queer little crystal pitcher, one of the few articles
-belonging to his mother that Gordon possessed. It had never been used
-before, except to stand on the mantel.
-
-It was after they had finished their delightful luncheon, and Henry had
-cleared the table and left the room, that Gordon remarked:
-
-“I wonder what has become of George Hayne. Do you suppose he means to
-try to make trouble?”
-
-Celia’s hands fluttered to her throat with a little gesture of fear.
-
-“Oh!” she said. “I had forgotten him! How terrible! He will do
-_something_, of course. He will do _everything_. He will probably carry
-out all his threats. How could I have forgotten! Perhaps Mamma is now
-in great distress. What can we do? What can _I_ do?”
-
-She looked up at him helplessly, and his heart bounded at the thought
-that she was his to protect as long as life should last, and that she
-already depended upon him.
-
-“Don’t be frightened,” he soothed her. “He cannot do anything very
-dreadful, and if he tries we’ll soon silence him. What he has written
-in those letters is blackmail. He is simply a big coward, who will run
-and hide as soon as he is exposed. He thought you did not understand
-law, and so took advantage of you. I’m sure I can silence him.”
-
-“Oh, do you think so? But Mamma! Poor Mamma! It will kill her! And
-George will stop at nothing when he is crossed. I have known him too
-long. It will be _terrible_ if he carries out his threat.” Tears were
-in her eyes, agony was in her face.
-
-“We must telephone your mother at once and set her heart at rest. Then
-we can find out just what ought to be done,” said Gordon soothingly.
-“It was unforgivably thoughtless in me not to have done it before.”
-
-Celia’s face was radiant at the thought of speaking to her mother.
-
-“Oh, how beautiful! Why didn’t I think of that before! What perfectly
-dear things telephones are!”
-
-With one accord, they went to the telephone table.
-
-“Shall you call them up, or shall I?” he asked.
-
-“You call, and then I will speak to Mamma,” she said, her eyes shining
-with her joy in him. “I want them to hear your voice again. They can’t
-help knowing you are all right when they hear your voice.”
-
-For that, he gave her a glance very much worth having.
-
-“Just how do you account for the fact that you didn’t think I was all
-right yesterday afternoon? I have a very realizing sense that you
-didn’t. I used my voice to the best of my ability, but it did no good
-then.”
-
-“Well, you see, that was different! There were those letters to be
-accounted for. Mamma and Jeff don’t know anything about the letters.”
-
-“And what are you going to tell them now?”
-
-She drew her brows down a minute and thought.
-
-“You’d better find out how much they already know,” he suggested. “If
-this George Hayne hasn’t turned up yet, perhaps you can wait until
-you can write, or we might be able to go up to-morrow and explain it
-ourselves.”
-
-“Oh, could we? How lovely!”
-
-“I think we could,” said Gordon. “I’m sure I can make it possible. Of
-course, you know a wedding journey isn’t exactly in the program of the
-Secret Service, but I might be able to work them for one. I surely can
-in a few days if this Holman business doesn’t hold me up. I may be
-needed for a witness. I’ll have to talk with the chief first.”
-
-“Oh, how perfectly beautiful! Then you call them up, and just say
-something pleasant--anything, you know--and then say I’ll speak to
-Mamma.”
-
-She gave him the number, and in a few minutes a voice from New York
-said, “Hello!”
-
-“Hello!” called Gordon. “Is this Mr. Jefferson Hathaway?... Well, this
-is your new brother-in-law. How are you all?... Your mother recovered
-from all the excitement and weariness?... That’s good.... What’s
-that?... You’ve been trying to ’phone us in Chicago?... But we’re not
-in Chicago. We changed our minds and came to Washington instead....
-Yes, we’re in Washington--The Harris Apartments. We have been very
-selfish not to have communicated with you sooner. At least I have.
-Celia hasn’t had any choice in the matter. I’ve kept her so busy.
-Yes, she’s very well, and seems to look happy. She wants to speak for
-herself. I’ll try to arrange to bring her up to-morrow for a little
-visit. I want to see you too. We’ve a lot of things to explain to
-you.... Here is Celia. She wants to speak to you.”
-
-Celia, her eyes shining, her lips quivering with suppressed excitement,
-took the receiver.
-
-“Oh, Jeff dear, it’s good to hear your voice,” she said. “Is everything
-all right? Yes, I’ve been having a perfectly beautiful time, and I’ve
-something fine to tell you. All those nice things you said to me just
-before you got off the train are true. Yes, he’s just as nice as
-you said, and a great deal nicer besides. Oh, yes, I’m very happy,
-and I want to speak to Mamma please. Jeff, is she all right? Is she
-_perfectly_ well, and not fretting a bit? You know you promised to tell
-me. What’s that? She thought I looked sad? Well, I did but that’s all
-gone now. Everything is perfectly beautiful. Tell mother to come to the
-’phone please--I want to make her understand.”
-
-“I’m going to tell her, dear,” she whispered, looking up at Gordon.
-“I’m afraid George will get there before we do and make her worry.”
-
-For answer he stooped and kissed her, his arm encircling her and
-drawing her close. “Whatever you think best, dearest,” he whispered
-back.
-
-“Is that you, Mamma?” With a happy smile she turned back to the ’phone.
-“Dear Mamma! Yes, I’m all safe and happy, and I’m so sorry you have
-worried. We won’t let you do it again. But listen; I’ve something to
-tell you, a surprise--Mamma, I did not marry George Hayne at all. No,
-I say I _did not_ marry George Hayne at all. George Hayne is a wicked
-man. I can’t tell you about it over the ’phone but that was why I
-looked sad. Yes, I was _married_ all right, but not to George. He’s oh,
-so different, Mother you can’t think. He’s right here beside me now,
-and Mother, he is just as dear--you’d be very happy about him if you
-could see him. What did you say? Didn’t I mean to marry George? Why
-Mother, I never wanted to. I was awfully unhappy about it, and I knew I
-made you feel so too, though I tried not to. But I’ll explain all about
-it. You’ll be perfectly satisfied when you know all about it.... No,
-there’s nothing whatever for you to worry about. Everything is right
-now and life looks more beautiful to me than it ever did before. What’s
-his name? Oh;” she looked up at Gordon with a funny little expression
-of dismay. She had forgotten and he whispered it in her ear.
-
-“Cyril--”
-
-“It’s Cyril, Mother! Isn’t that a pretty name? Which name? Oh, the
-first name of course. The last name?”
-
-“Gordon--” he supplied in her ear again.
-
-“Cyril Gordon, Mother,” she said, giggling in spite of herself at her
-strange predicament.... “Yes, Mother. I am very, very happy. I couldn’t
-be happier unless I had you and Jeff, too, and”--she paused, hesitating
-at the unaccustomed name--“and Cyril says we’re coming to visit you
-to-morrow. We’ll come up and see you and explain everything. And you’re
-not to worry about George Hayne if he comes. Just let Jeff put him off
-by telling him you have sent for me, or something of the sort, and
-don’t pay any attention to what he says. What? You say he did come? How
-strange--and he hasn’t been back? I’m so thankful. He is dreadful. Oh,
-Mother, you don’t know what I’ve escaped! And Cyril is good and dear.
-What? You want to speak to him? All right. He’s right here. Good-by,
-Mother, dear, till to-morrow. And you’ll promise not to worry about
-anything? All right. Here is--Cyril.”
-
-Gordon took the receiver.
-
-“Mother, I’m taking good care of her, just as I promised, and I’m going
-to bring her for a flying visit up to see you to-morrow. Yes, I’ll take
-good care of her. She is very dear to me. The best thing that ever
-came into my life.”
-
-Then a mother’s blessing came thrilling over the wires, and touched the
-handsome, manly face with tenderness.
-
-“Thank you,” he said. “I shall try always to make you glad you said
-those words.”
-
-They returned to looking in each other’s eyes, after the receiver was
-hung up, as if they had been parted a long time. It seemed somehow as
-if their joy must be greater than any other married couple, because
-they had all their courting yet to do. It was beautiful to think of
-what was before them.
-
-There was so much on both sides to be told; and to be told over again
-because only half had been told; and there were so many hopes and
-experiences to be exchanged; so many opinions to compare, and to
-rejoice over because they were alike on many essentials. Then there
-were the rooms to be gone through, and Gordon’s pictures and favorite
-books to look at and talk about, and plans for the future to be touched
-upon--just barely touched upon.
-
-The apartment would do until they could look about and get a house,
-Gordon said, his heart swelling with the proud thought that at last he
-would have a real home, like his other married friends, with a real
-princess to preside over it.
-
-Then Celia had to tell all about the horror of the last three months,
-with the unpleasant shadows of the preceding years back of it. She told
-this in the dusk of evening, before Henry had come in to light up,
-and before they had realized that it was almost dinner-time. She told
-it with her face hidden on her husband’s shoulder, and his arms close
-about her, to give her comfort at each revelation of the story. They
-tried also to plan what to do about George Hayne; and then there was
-the whole story of Gordon’s journey and commission from the time the
-old chief had called him into the office until he came to stand beside
-her at the church altar and they were married. It was told in careful
-detail with all the comical, exasperating and pitiful incidents of
-white dog and little newsboy; but the strangest part about it all was
-that Gordon never said one word about Julia Bentley and her imaginary
-presence with him that first day, and he never even knew that he had
-left out an important detail.
-
-Celia laughed over the white dog and declared they must bring him home
-to live with them; and she cried over the story of the brave little
-newsboy and was eager to visit him in New York, promising herself all
-sorts of pleasure in taking him gifts and permanently bettering his
-condition; and it was in this way that Gordon incidentally learned that
-his wife had a fortune in her own right, a fact that for a time gave
-him great uneasiness of mind until she had soothed him and laughed at
-him for an hour or more; for Gordon was an independent creature and had
-ideas about supporting his wife by his own toil. Besides it seemed an
-unfair advantage to have taken a wife and a fortune as it were unaware.
-
-But Celia’s fortune had not spoiled her, and she soon made him see that
-it had always been a mere incident in her scheme of living; comfortable
-and pleasant incident to be sure, but still an incident to be kept
-always in the background, and never for a moment to be a cause for
-self-gratulation or pride.
-
-Gordon found himself dreading the explanation that would have to come
-when he reached New York and faced his wife’s mother and brother. Celia
-had accepted his explanations, because, somehow by the beautiful ways
-of the spirit, her soul had found and believed in his soul before the
-truth was made known to her, but would her mother and brother be able
-also to believe? And he fell to planning with Celia just how he should
-tell the story; and this led to his bringing out a number of letters
-and papers that would be worth while showing as credentials, and every
-step of the way, as Celia got glimpse after glimpse into his past, her
-face shone with joy and her heart leaped with the assurance that her
-lot had been cast in goodly places, for she perceived not only that
-this man was honored and respected in high places, but that his early
-life had been peculiarly pure and true.
-
-The strange loneliness that had surrounded his young manhood seemed
-suddenly to have broken ahead of him, and to have opened out into the
-glory of the companionship of one peculiarly fitted to fill the need
-of his life. Thus they looked into one another’s eyes reading their
-life-joy, and entered into the beautiful miracle of acquaintanceship.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII
-
-
-The next morning quite early the ’phone called Gordon to the office.
-The chief’s secretary said the matter was urgent.
-
-He hurried away leaving Celia somewhat anxious lest their plans for
-going to New York that day could not be carried out, but she made up
-her mind not to fret even if the trip had to be put off a little, and
-solaced herself with a short visit with her mother over the telephone.
-
-Gordon entered his chief’s office a trifle anxiously, for he felt that
-in justice to his wife he ought to take her right back to New York and
-get matters there adjusted; but he feared that there would be business
-to hold him at home until the Holman matter was settled.
-
-The chief greeted him affably and bade him sit down.
-
-“I am sorry to have called you up so early,” he said, “but we needed
-you. The fact is, they’ve arrested Holman and five other men, and you
-are in immediate demand to identify them. Would it be asking too much
-of an already overworked man to send you back to New York to-day?”
-
-Gordon almost sprang from his seat in pleasure.
-
-“It just exactly fits in with my plans, or, rather, my wishes,” he
-said, smiling. “There are several matters of my own that I would like
-to attend to in New York and for which of course I did not have time.”
-
-He paused and looked at his chief, half hesitating, marvelling that the
-way had so miraculously opened for him to keep silence a little longer
-on the subject of his marriage. Perhaps the chief need never be told
-that the marriage ceremony took place on the day of the Holman dinner.
-
-“That is good,” said the chief, smiling. “You certainly have earned the
-right to attend to your own affairs. Then we need not feel so bad at
-having to send you back. Can you go on the afternoon train? Good! Then
-let us hear your account of your trip briefly, to see if there are any
-points we didn’t notice yesterday. But first just step here a moment. I
-have something to show you.”
-
-He flung open the door to the next office.
-
-“You knew that Ferry had left the Department on account of his
-ill-health? I have taken the liberty of having your things moved in
-here. This will hereafter be your headquarters, and you will be next to
-me in the Department.”
-
-Gordon turned in amazement and gazed at the kindly old face. Promotion
-he had hoped for, but such promotion, right over the heads of his
-elders and superiors, he had never dreamed of receiving. He could have
-taken the chief in his arms.
-
-“Pooh! Pooh!” said the chief. “You deserve it, you deserve it!” when
-Gordon tried to blunder out some words of appreciation. Then, as if to
-cap the climax, he added:
-
-“And, by the way, you know some one has got to run across the water to
-look after that Stanhope matter. That will fall to you, I’m afraid.
-Sorry to keep you trotting around the globe, but perhaps you’ll like
-to make a little vacation of it. The Department’ll give you some time
-if you want it. Oh, don’t thank me! It’s simply the reward of doing
-your duty, to have more duties given you, and higher ones. You have
-done well, young man. I have here all the papers in the Stanhope case,
-and full directions written out, and then if you can plan for it you
-needn’t return, unless it suits your pleasure. You understand the
-matter as fully as I do already. And now for business. Let’s hurry
-through. There are one or two little matters we must talk over and I
-know you will want to hurry back and get ready for your journey.” And
-so after all the account of Gordon’s extraordinary escape and eventful
-journey home became by reason of its hasty repetition a most prosaic
-story composed of the bare facts and not all of those.
-
-At parting the chief pressed Gordon’s hand with heartiness and ushered
-him out into the hall, with the same brusque manner he used to close
-all business interviews, and Gordon found himself hurrying through the
-familiar halls in a daze of happiness, the secret of his unexpected
-marriage still his own--and hers.
-
-Celia was watching at the window when his key clicked in the lock and
-he let himself into the apartment his face alight with the joy of
-meeting her again after the brief absence. She turned in a quiver of
-pleasure at his coming.
-
-“Well, get ready,” he said joyfully. “We are ordered off to New York on
-the afternoon train, with a wedding trip to Europe into the bargain;
-and I’m promoted to the next place to the chief. What do you think of
-that for a morning’s surprise?”
-
-He tossed up his hat like a boy, came over to where she stood, and
-stooping laid reverent lips upon her brow and eyes.
-
-“Oh, beautiful! lovely!” cried Celia, ecstatically, “come sit down on
-the couch and tell me about it. We can work faster afterward if we
-get it off our minds. Was your chief very much shocked that you were
-married without his permission or knowledge?”
-
-“Why, that was the best of all. I didn’t have to tell him I was
-married. And he is not to know until just as I sail. He need never know
-how it all happened. It isn’t his business and it would be hard to
-explain. No one need ever know except your mother and brother unless
-you wish them to, dear.”
-
-“Oh, I am so glad and relieved,” said Celia, delightedly. “I’ve been
-worrying about that a little,--what people would think of us,--for of
-course we couldn’t possibly explain it all out as it is to us. They
-would always be watching us to see if we really cared for each other;
-and suspecting that we didn’t, and it would be horrid. I think it is
-our own precious secret, and nobody but mamma and Jeff have a right to
-know, don’t you?”
-
-“I certainly do, and I was casting about in my mind as I went into the
-office how I could manage not to tell the chief, when what did he do
-but spring a proposition on me to go at once to New York and identify
-those men. He apologized tremendously for having to send me right back
-again, but said it was necessary. I told him it just suited me for I
-had affairs of my own that I had not had time to attend to when I was
-there, and would be glad to go back and see to them. That let me out on
-the wedding question for it would be only necessary to tell him I was
-married when I got back. He would never ask when.”
-
-“But the announcements,” said Celia catching her breath laughingly,
-“I never thought of that. We’ll just have to have some kind of
-announcements or my friends will not understand about my new name; and
-we’ll have to send him one, won’t we?”
-
-“Why, I don’t know. Couldn’t we get along without announcements?
-You can explain to your intimate friends, and the others won’t
-ever remember the name after a few months--we’ll not be likely to
-meet many of them right away. I’ll write to my chief and tell him
-informally leaving out the date entirely. He won’t miss it. If we have
-announcements at all we needn’t send him one. He wouldn’t be likely
-ever to see one any other way, or to notice the date. I think we can
-manage that matter. We’ll talk it over with your--” he hesitated and
-then smiling tenderly added, “we’ll talk it over with _mother_. How
-good it sounds to say that. I never knew my mother you know.”
-
-Celia nestled her hands in his and murmured, “Oh, I am so happy,--so
-happy! But I don’t understand how you got a wedding trip without
-telling your chief about our marriage.”
-
-“Easy as anything. He asked me if I would mind running across the
-water to attend to a matter for the service and said I might have extra
-time while there for a vacation. He never suspects that vacation is to
-be used as a wedding trip. I’ll write him, or ’phone him the night we
-leave New York. I may have to stay in the city two or three days to get
-this Holman matter settled, and then we can be off. In the meantime you
-can spend the time reconciling your mother to her new son. Do you think
-we’ll have a very hard time explaining matters to her?”
-
-“Not a bit,” said Celia, gaily. “She never did like George. It was the
-only thing we ever disagreed about, my marrying him. She suspected
-all the time I wasn’t happy and couldn’t understand why I insisted on
-marrying him when I hadn’t seen him for ten years. She begged me to
-wait until he had been back in the country for a year or two, but he
-would not hear to such a thing and threatened to carry out his worst at
-once.”
-
-Gordon’s heart suddenly contracted with righteous wrath over the
-cowardliness of the man who sought to gain his own ends by intimidating
-a woman,--and this woman, so dear, so beautiful, so lovely in her
-nature. It seemed the man’s heart must indeed be black to have done
-what he did. He mentally resolved to search him out and bring him to
-justice as soon as he reached New York. It puzzled him to understand
-how easily he seemed to have abandoned his purposes. Perhaps after
-all he was more of a coward than they thought, and had not dared to
-remain in the country when he found that Celia had braved his wrath and
-married another man. He would find out about him and set the girl’s
-heart at rest just as soon as possible, that any embarrassment at some
-future time might be avoided. Gordon stooped and kissed his wife again,
-a caress that seemed to promise all reparation for the past.
-
-But it suddenly occurred to the two that trains did not wait for
-lovers’ long loitering, and with one accord they went to work. Celia
-of course had very little preparation to make. Her trunk was probably
-in Chicago and would need to be wired for. Gordon attended to that the
-first thing, looking up the number of the check and ordering it back
-to New York by telegraph. Turning from the telephone he rang for the
-man and asked Celia to give the order for lunch while he got together
-some things that he must take with him. A stay of several weeks would
-necessitate a little more baggage than he had taken to New York.
-
-He went into the bedroom and began pulling out things to pack but when
-Celia turned from giving her directions she found him standing in the
-bedroom doorway with an old-fashioned velvet jewel case in his hand
-which he had just taken from the little safe in his room. His face
-wore a wonderful tender light as if he had just discovered something
-precious.
-
-“Dear,” he said, “I wonder if you will care for these. They were
-mother’s. Perhaps this ring will do until I can buy you a new one. See
-if it will fit you. It was my mother’s.”
-
-He held out a ring containing a diamond of singular purity and
-brilliance in quaint old-fashioned setting.
-
-Celia put out her hand with its wedding ring, the ring that he had put
-upon her finger at the altar, and he slipped the other jewelled one
-above it. It fitted perfectly.
-
-“It is a beauty,” breathed Celia, holding out her hand to admire it,
-“and I would far rather have it than a new one. Your dear little
-mother!”
-
-“There’s not much else here but a little string of pearls and a pin or
-two. I have always kept them near me. Somehow they seemed like a link
-between me and mother. I was keeping them for--” he hesitated and then
-giving her a rare smile he finished:
-
-“I was keeping them for you.”
-
-Her answering look was eloquent, and needed no words which was well,
-for Henry appeared at that moment to serve luncheon and remind his
-master that his train left in a little over two hours. There was no
-further time for sentiment.
-
-And yet, these two, it seemed, could not be practical that day. They
-idled over their luncheon and dawdled over their packing, stopping to
-look at this and that picture or bit of bric-a-brac that Gordon had
-picked up in some of his travels; and Henry finally had to take things
-in his own hands, pack them off and send their baggage after them.
-Henry was a capable man and rejoiced to see the devotion of his master
-and his new mistress, but he had a practical head and knew where his
-part came in.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII
-
-
-The journey back to New York seemed all too brief for the two whose
-lives had just been blended so unexpectedly, and every mile was filled
-with a new and sweet discovery of delight in one another; and then,
-when they reached the city they rushed in on Mrs. Hathaway and the
-eager young Jeff like two children who had so much to tell they did not
-know where to begin.
-
-Mrs. Hathaway settled the matter by insisting on their going to dinner
-immediately and leaving all explanations until afterward; and with the
-servants present of course there was little that could be said about
-the matter that each one had most at heart. But there was a spirit of
-deep happiness in the atmosphere and one couldn’t possibly entertain
-any fears under the influence of the radiant smiles that passed between
-mother and daughter, husband and wife, brother and sister.
-
-As soon as the meal was concluded the mother led them up to her private
-sitting room, and closing the door she stood facing them all as half
-breathless with the excitement of the moment they stood in a row before
-her:
-
-“My three dear children!” she murmured. Gordon’s eyes lit with joy and
-his heart thrilled with the wonder of it all. Then the mother stepped
-up to him and placing her hand on his arm led him over to the couch and
-made him sit beside her, while the brother and sister sat down together
-close by.
-
-“Now, Cyril, my new son,” said she, deliberately, her eyes resting
-approvingly upon his face, “you may tell me your story. I see my girl
-has lost both head and heart to you and I doubt if she could tell it
-connectedly.”
-
-And while Celia and Jeff were laughing at this Gordon set about his
-task of winning a mother, and incidentally an eager-eyed young brother
-who was more than half committed to his cause already.
-
-Celia watched proudly as her handsome husband took out his credentials,
-and began his explanation.
-
-“First, I must tell you who I am, and these papers will do it better
-than I could. Will you look at them, please?”
-
-He handed her a few letters and papers.
-
-“These papers on the top show the rank and position that my father
-and my grandfather held with the government and in the army. This is
-a letter from the president to my father congratulating him on his
-approaching marriage with my mother. That paper contains my mother’s
-family tree, and the letters with it will give you an idea of the
-honor in which my mother’s family was held in Washington and in
-Virginia, her old home. I know these matters are not of much moment,
-and say nothing whatever about what I am myself, but they are things
-you would have been likely to know about my family if you had known
-me all my life; and at least they will tell you that my family was
-respectable.”
-
-Mrs. Hathaway was examining the papers, and suddenly looked up
-exclaiming: “My dear! My father knew your grandfather. I think I saw
-him once when he came to our home in New York. It was years ago and I
-was a young girl, but I remember he was a fine looking man with keen
-dark eyes, and a heavy head of iron gray hair.”
-
-She looked at Gordon keenly.
-
-“I wonder if your eyes are not like his. It was long ago of course.”
-
-“They used to say I looked like him. I do not remember him. He died
-when I was very young.”
-
-The mother looked up with a pleasant smile.
-
-“Now tell me about yourself,” she said and laid a gentle hand on his.
-
-Gordon looked down, an embarrassed flush spreading over his face.
-
-“There’s nothing great to tell,” he said. “I’ve always tried to live
-a straight true life, and I’ve never been in love with any girl
-before--” he flashed a wonderful, blinding smile upon Celia.
-
-“I was left alone in the world when quite young and have lived around
-in boarding-schools and college. I’m a graduate of Harvard and I’ve
-travelled a little. There was some money left from my father’s estate,
-not much. I’m not rich. I’m a Secret Service man, and I love my work.
-I get a good salary and was this morning promoted to the position next
-in rank to my chief, so that now I shall have still more money. I shall
-be able to make your daughter comfortable and give her some of the
-luxuries, if not all, to which she has been accustomed.”
-
-“My dear boy, that part is not what I am anxious about--” interrupted
-the mother.
-
-“I know,” said Gordon, “but it is a detail you have a right to be told.
-I understand that you care far more what I am than how much money I can
-make, and I promise you I am going to try to be all that you would want
-your daughter’s husband to be. Perhaps the best thing I can say for
-myself is that I love her better than my life, and I mean to make her
-happiness the dearest thing in life to me.”
-
-The mother’s look of deep understanding answered him more eloquently
-than words could have done, and after a moment she spoke again.
-
-“But I do not understand how you could have known one another and I
-never have heard of you. Celia is not good at keeping things from her
-mother, though the last three months she has had a sadness that I could
-not fathom, and was forced to lay to her natural dread of leaving
-home. She seemed so insistent upon having this marriage just as George
-planned it--and I was so afraid she would regret not waiting. How could
-you have known one another all this time and she never talked to me
-about it, and why did George Hayne have any part whatever in it if you
-two loved one another? Just how long have you known each other anyway?
-Did it begin when you visited in Washington last spring, Celia?”
-
-With dancing eyes Celia shook her head.
-
-“No, Mamma. If I had met him then I’m sure George Hayne would never
-have had anything to do with the matter, for Cyril would have known how
-to help me out of my difficulty.”
-
-“I shall have to tell you the whole story from my standpoint, and from
-the beginning,” said Gordon, dreading now that the crisis was upon him,
-what the outcome would be. “I have wanted you to know who and what
-I was before you knew the story, that you might judge me as kindly
-as possible, and know that however I may have been to blame in the
-matter it was through no intention of mine. My story may sound rather
-impossible. I know it will seem improbable, but it is nevertheless
-true, everything that I have to tell. May I hope to be believed?”
-
-“I think you may,” answered the mother searching his face anxiously.
-“Those eyes of yours are not lying eyes.”
-
-“Thank you,” he said simply, and then gathering all his courage he
-plunged into his story.
-
-Mrs. Hathaway was watching him with searching interest. Jeff had drawn
-his chair up close and could scarcely restrain his excitement, and when
-Gordon told of his commission he burst forth explosively:
-
-“Gee! But that was a great stunt! I’d have liked to have been along
-with you! You must be simply great to be trusted with a thing like
-that!”
-
-But his mother gently reproved him:
-
-“Hush, my son, let us hear the story.”
-
-Celia sat quietly watching her husband with pride, two bright spots of
-color on her cheeks, and her hands clasping each other tightly. She was
-hearing many details now that were new to her. Once more, when Gordon
-mentioned the dinner at Holman’s Jeff interrupted with:
-
-“Holman! Holman! Not J. P.? Why of course--we know him! Celia was
-one of his daughter’s bridesmaids last spring! The old lynx! I always
-thought he was crooked! People hint a lot of things about him--”
-
-“Jeff, dear, let us hear the story,” again insisted his mother, and the
-story continued.
-
-Gordon had been looking down as he talked. He dreaded to see their
-faces as the truth should dawn upon them, but when he had told all he
-lifted honest eyes to the white-faced mother and pleaded with her:
-
-“Indeed, indeed, I hope you will believe me, that not until they laid
-your daughter’s hand in mine did I know that I was supposed to be the
-bridegroom. I thought all the time her brother was the bridegroom. If I
-had not been so distraught, and trying so hard to think how to escape,
-I suppose I would have noticed that I was standing next to her, and
-that everything was peculiar about the whole matter, but I didn’t.
-And then when I suddenly knew that she and I were being married, what
-should I have done? Do you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony
-then and there and made a scene before all those people? What was the
-right thing to do? Suppose my commission had been entirely out of the
-question, and I had had no duty toward the government to keep entirely
-quiet about myself, do you think I ought to have made a scene? Would
-you have wanted me to for your daughter’s sake? Tell me please,” he
-insisted, gently.
-
-And while she hesitated he added:
-
-“I did some pretty hard thinking during that first quarter of a second
-that I realized what was happening, and I tell you honestly I didn’t
-know what was the right thing to do. It seemed awful for her sake to
-make a scene, and to tell you the truth I worshipped her from the
-moment my eyes rested upon her. There was something sad and appealing
-as she looked at me that seemed to pledge my very life to save her from
-trouble. Tell me, do you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony
-then at the first moment of my realization that I was being married?”
-
-The mother’s face had softened as she watched him and listened to his
-tender words about Celia and now she answered gently:
-
-“I am not sure--perhaps not! It was a very grave question to face. I
-don’t know that I can blame you for doing nothing. It would have been
-terrible for her and us and everybody and have made it all so public.
-Oh, I think you did right not to do anything publicly--perhaps--and
-yet--it is terrible to me to think you have been forced to marry my
-daughter in that way.”
-
-“Please do not say forced,--_Mother_--” said Gordon laying both hands
-earnestly upon hers and looking into her eyes, “I tell you one thing
-that held me back from doing anything was that I so earnestly desired
-that what I was passing through might be real and lasting. I have
-never seen one like her before. I know that if the mistake had been
-righted and she had passed out of my life I should never have felt
-the same again. I am glad, glad with all my heart that she is mine,
-and--Mother!--I think she is glad too!”
-
-The mother turned toward her daughter, and Celia with starry eyes came
-and knelt before them, and laid her hands in the hands of her husband,
-saying with ringing voice:
-
-“Yes, dear little Mother, I am gladder than I ever was before in my
-life.”
-
-And kneeling thus, with her husband’s arm about her, her face against
-his shoulder, and both her hands clasped in his, she told her mother
-about the tortures that George Hayne had put her through, until the
-mother turned white with horror at what her beloved and cherished child
-had been enduring, and the brother got up and stormed across the floor,
-vowing vengeance on the luckless head of poor George Hayne.
-
-Then after the mother had given her blessing to the two, and Jeff
-had added an original one of his own, there was the whole story of
-the eventful wedding trip to tell, which they both told by solos and
-choruses until the hour grew alarmingly late and the mother suddenly
-sent them all off to bed.
-
-The next few days were both busy and happy ones for the two. They went
-to the hospital and gladdened the life of the little newsboy with fruit
-and toys and many promises; and they brought home a happy white dog
-from his boarding place whom Jeff adopted as his own. Gordon had a
-trying hour or two at court with his one-time host, the scoundrel who
-had stolen the cipher message; and the thick-set man glared at him from
-a cell window as he passed along the corridor of the prison whither he
-had gone in search of George Hayne.
-
-Gordon in his search for the lost bridegroom, whom for many reasons he
-desired to find as soon as possible, had asked the help of one of the
-men at work on the Holman case, in searching for a certain George Hayne
-who needed very much to be brought to justice.
-
-“Oh, you won’t have to search for him,” declared the man with a smile.
-“He’s safely landed in prison three days ago. He was caught as neatly
-as rolling off a log by the son of the man whose name he forged several
-years ago. It was trust money of a big corporation and the man died in
-his place in a prison cell, but the son means to see the real culprit
-punished.”
-
-And so Gordon, in the capacity of Celia’s lawyer, went to the prison
-to talk with George Hayne, and that miserable man found no excuse for
-his sins when the searching talk was over. Gordon did not let the man
-know who he was, and merely made it understood that Celia was married,
-and that if he attempted to make her any further trouble the whole
-thing would be exposed and he would have to answer a grave charge of
-blackmail.
-
-The days passed rapidly, and at last the New York matter for which
-Gordon’s presence was needed was finished, and he was free to sail away
-with his bride. On the morning of their departure Gordon’s voice rang
-out over the miles of telephone wires to his old chief in Washington:
-“I am married and am just starting on my wedding trip. Don’t you want
-to congratulate me?” And the old chief’s gruff voice sounded back:
-
-“Good work, old man! Congratulations for you both. She may or may not
-be the best girl in all the world; I haven’t had a chance to see yet;
-but she’s a lucky girl, for she’s got _the best man I know_. Tell her
-that for me! Bless you both! I’m glad she’s going with you. It won’t be
-so lonesome.”
-
-Gordon gave her the message that afternoon as they sailed straight
-into the sunshine of a new and beautiful life together.
-
-“Dear,” he said, as he arranged her steamer rug more comfortably about
-her, “has it occurred to you that you are probably the only bride who
-ever married the best man at her wedding?”
-
-Celia smiled appreciatively and after a minute replied mischievously:
-
-“I suppose every bride _thinks_ her husband is the best man.”
-
-
-
-
-TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
-
-
- Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
-
- Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
-
- Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
-
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diff --git a/old/old/69514-h/69514-h.htm b/old/old/69514-h/69514-h.htm
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-<body>
-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The best man, by Grace Livingston Hill Lutz</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The best man</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Grace Livingston Hill Lutz</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Gayle Hoskins</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 9, 2022 [eBook #69514]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Steve Mattern, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST MAN ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" alt=""></div>
-<p class="caption">Before she could reply, the express train roared above them<br>
-
-<span class="illoright"><i>Page <a href="#Page_151">151</a></i></span></p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt=""></div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-<div class="titlepage">
-<h1>THE BEST MAN</h1>
-
-<p>BY<br>
-<span class="large">GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL LUTZ</span><br>
-
-AUTHOR OF<br>
-VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS, <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p>
-
-<p>FRONTISPIECE IN COLOR BY<br>
-<span class="large">GAYLE HOSKINS</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt=""></div>
-
-<p><span class="large">GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</span><br>
-PUBLISHERS &#160; &#160; NEW YORK</p>
-
-<p>Made in the United States of America</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="center">
-COPYRIGHT, 1913. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br>
-COPYRIGHT, 1914. BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-PUBLISHED JANUARY, 1914</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-<div class="chapter">
-<p class="ph3">The Best Man</p>
-
-<p class="center">SIXTH EDITION</p>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>
-
-<p class="ph2">THE BEST MAN</p>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Cyril Gordon</span> had been seated at his desk but
-ten minutes and was deep in the morning’s mail
-when there came an urgent message from his chief,
-summoning him to an immediate audience in the
-inner office.</p>
-
-<p>The chief had keen blue eyes and shaggy eyebrows.
-He never wasted words; yet those words
-when spoken had more weight than those of most
-other men in Washington.</p>
-
-<p>There was the briefest of good-morning gleams
-in his nod and glance, but he only said:</p>
-
-<p>“Gordon, can you take the Pennsylvania train
-for New York that leaves the station in thirty-two
-minutes?”</p>
-
-<p>The young man was used to abrupt questions
-from his chief, but he caught his breath, mentally
-surveying his day as it had been planned:</p>
-
-<p>“Why, sir, I suppose I could—if it is necessary——”
-He hesitated.</p>
-
-<p>“It is necessary,” said the chief curtly, as if that
-settled the matter.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>“But—half an hour!” ejaculated Gordon in dismay.
-“I could hardly get to my rooms and back
-to the station. I don’t see how—— Isn’t there a
-train a little later?”</p>
-
-<p>“Later train won’t do. Call up your man on
-the ’phone. Tell him to pack your bag and meet
-you at the station in twenty minutes. You’ll need
-evening clothes. Can you depend on your man to
-get your things quickly without fail?”</p>
-
-<p>There was that in the tone of the chief that
-caused Gordon to make no further demur.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure!” he responded with his usual business-like
-tone, as he strode to the ’phone. His daze was
-passing off. “Evening clothes?” he questioned
-curiously, as if he might not have heard aright.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, evening clothes,” was the curt answer,
-“and everything you’ll need for daytime for a respectable
-gentleman of leisure—a tourist, you understand.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon perceived that he was being given a mission
-of trust and importance, not unmixed with
-mystery perhaps. He was new in the secret service,
-and it had been his ambition to rise in his chief’s
-good graces. He rang the telephone bell furiously
-and called up the number of his own apartments, giving
-his man orders in a breezy, decisive tone that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
-caused a look of satisfaction to settle about the
-fine wrinkles of the chief’s eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s watch was out and he was telling his
-man on just what car he must leave the apartments
-for the station. The chief noted it was two cars
-ahead of what would have been necessary. His
-gray head gave an almost imperceptible nod of commendation,
-and his eyes showed that he was content
-with his selection of a man.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, sir,” said Gordon, as he hung up the
-receiver, “I’m ready for orders.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you are to go to New York, and take
-a cab for the Cosmopolis Hotel—your room there
-is already secured by wire. Your name is John
-Burnham. The name of the hotel and the number
-of your room are on this memorandum. You will
-find awaiting you an invitation to dine this evening
-with a Mr. Holman, who knows of you as an expert
-in code-reading. Our men met him on the train
-an hour ago and arranged that he should invite you.
-He didn’t know whom they represented, of course.
-He has already tried to ’phone you at the hotel about
-coming to dinner to-night. He knows you are expected
-there before evening. Here is a letter of
-introduction to him from a man he knows. Our
-men got that also. It is genuine, of course.</p>
-
-<p>“Last night a message of national importance,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>
-written in cipher, was stolen from one of our men
-before it had been read. This is now in the hands
-of Holman, who is hoping to have you decipher it
-for him and a few guests who will also be present
-at dinner. They wish to use it for their own purposes.
-Your commission is to get hold of the message
-and bring it to us as soon as possible. Another
-message of very different import, written
-upon the same kind of paper, is in this envelope,
-with a translation for you to use in case you have
-to substitute a message. You will have to use your
-own wits and judgment. The main thing is, <i>get the
-paper</i>, and <i>get back with it</i>, with as little delay as
-possible. Undoubtedly your life will be in danger
-should it be discovered that you have made off with
-it. Spare no care to protect yourself <i>and the message</i>,
-at all hazards. Remember, I said, <i>and the message</i>,
-young man! It means much to the country.</p>
-
-<p>“In this envelope is money—all you will probably
-need. Telegraph or ’phone to this address if
-you are in trouble. Draw on us for more, if necessary,
-also through this same address. Here is the
-code you can use in case you find it necessary to telegraph.
-Your ticket is already bought. I have sent
-Clarkson to the station for it, and he will meet
-you at the train. You can give him instructions in
-case you find you have forgotten anything. Take<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>
-your mail with you, and telegraph back orders to
-your stenographer. I think that is all. Oh, yes,
-to-night, while you are at dinner, you will be called
-to the ’phone by one of our men. If you are in
-trouble, this may give you opportunity to get away,
-and put us wise. You will find a motor at the door
-now, waiting to take you to the station. If your
-man doesn’t get there with your things, take the
-train, anyway, and buy some more when you get
-to New York. Don’t turn aside from your commission
-for anything. Don’t let <i>anything</i> hinder you!
-Make it a matter of life and death! Good-morning,
-and good luck!”</p>
-
-<p>The chief held out a big, hairy hand that was
-surprisingly warm and soft considering the hardness
-of his face and voice, and the young man
-grasped it, feeling as if he were suddenly being
-plunged into waves of an unknown depth and he
-would fain hold on to this strong hand.</p>
-
-<p>He went out of the office quietly enough, and the
-keen old eyes watched him knowingly, understanding
-the beating of the heart under Gordon’s well-fitting
-business coat, the mingled elation and dread
-over the commission. But there had been no hesitancy,
-no question of acceptance, when the nature
-of the commission was made known. The young
-man was “game.” He would do. Not even an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>
-eyelash had flickered at the hint of danger. The
-chief felt he would be faithful even in the face of
-possible death.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s man came rushing into the station just
-after he reached there himself. Clarkson was
-already there with the ticket. Gordon had time to
-scribble a message to Julia Bentley, whose perfumed
-scrawl he had read on the way down. Julia had
-bidden him to her presence that evening. He could
-not tell whether he was relieved or sorry to tell her
-he could not come. It began to look to him a good
-deal as if he would ask Julia Bentley to marry him
-some day, when she got tired of playing all the others
-off against him, and he could make up his mind to
-surrender his freedom to any woman.</p>
-
-<p>He bought a paper and settled himself comfortably
-in the parlor-car, but his interest was not in the
-paper. His strange commission engaged all his
-thoughts. He took out the envelope containing instructions
-and went over the matter, looking curiously
-at the cipher message and its translation,
-which, however, told him nothing. It was the old
-chief’s way to keep the business to himself until
-such time as he chose to explain. Doubtless it was
-safer for both message and messenger that he did
-not know the full import of what he was undertaking.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>Gordon carefully noted down everything that
-his chief had told him, comparing it with the written
-instructions in the envelope; arranged in his mind
-just how he would proceed when he reached New
-York; tried to think out a good plan for recovering
-the stolen message, but could not; and so decided
-to trust to the inspiration of the moment. Then it
-occurred to him to clear his overcoat pockets of any
-letters or other tell-tale articles and stow them in
-his suit-case. He might have to leave his overcoat
-behind him. So it would be well to have no clues for
-anyone to follow.</p>
-
-<p>Having arranged these matters, and prepared a
-few letters with notes for his stenographer, to be
-mailed back to her from Philadelphia, he reread
-Julia Bentley’s note. When every angular line of
-her tall script was imprinted on his memory, he
-tore the perfumed note into tiny pieces and dropped
-them from the car window.</p>
-
-<p>The question was, did he or did he not want to
-ask Julia Bentley to become his wife? He had no
-doubt as to what her answer would be. Julia had
-made it pretty plain to him that she would rather
-have him than any of her other admirers; though
-she did like to keep them all attendant upon her.
-Well, that was her right so long as she was unmarried.
-He had no fault to find with her. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>
-was a fine girl, and everybody liked her. Also, she
-was of a good family, and with a modest fortune
-in her own right. Everybody was taking it for
-granted that they liked each other. It was time he
-was married and had a real home, he supposed,
-whatever that was—that seemed to have so great
-a charm for all his friends. To his eyes, it had as
-yet taken on no alluring mirage effect. He had
-never known a real home, more than his quiet bachelor
-apartments were to him now, where his man
-ordered everything as he was told, and the meals
-were sent up when wanted. He had money enough
-from his inheritance to make things more than comfortable,
-and he was deeply interested in the profession
-he had chosen.</p>
-
-<p>Still, if he was ever going to marry, it was high
-time, of course. But did he want Julia? He could
-not quite make it seem pleasant to think of her
-in his rooms when he came home at night
-tired; she would always be wanting to go to her
-endless theatre parties and receptions and dances;
-always be demanding his attention. She was bright
-and handsome and well dressed, but he had never
-made love to her. He could not quite imagine himself
-doing so. How did men make love, anyway?
-Could one call it love when it was “made” love?
-These questions followed one another idly through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>
-his brain as the landscape whirled past him. If he
-had stayed at home, he would have spent the evening
-with Julia, as she requested in her note, and there
-would probably have been a quiet half-hour after
-other callers had gone when he would have stayed
-as he had been doing of late, and tried to find out
-whether he really cared for her or not.</p>
-
-<p>Suppose, for instance, they were married, and
-she sat beside him now. Would any glad thrill fill
-his heart as he looked at her beautiful face and realized
-that she was his? He tried to look over toward
-the next chair and imagine that the tired, fat old
-lady with the double chin and the youthful purple
-hat was Julia, but that would not work. He whirled
-his chair about and tried it on an empty chair. That
-went better; but still no thrill of joy lifted him out
-of his sordid self. He could not help thinking about
-little trying details. The way Julia looked when
-she was vexed. Did one mind that in the woman
-one loved? The way she ordered her coachman
-about. Would she ever speak so to her husband?
-She had a charming smile, but her frown was—well—unbecoming
-to say the least.</p>
-
-<p>He tried to keep up the fallacy of her presence.
-He bought a magazine that he knew she liked, and
-read a story to her (in imagination). He could
-easily tell how her black eyes would snap at certain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>
-phrases she disliked. He knew just what her comment
-would be upon the heroine’s conduct. It was
-an old disputed point between them. He knew
-how she would criticize the hero, and somehow he
-felt himself in the hero’s place every time she did
-it. The story had not been a success, and he felt
-a weariness as he laid the magazine aside at the call
-for dinner from the dining-car.</p>
-
-<p>Before he had finished his luncheon he had begun
-to feel that though Julia might think now that
-she would like to marry him, the truth about it was
-that she would not enjoy the actual life together
-any better than he would. Were all marriages like
-that? Did people lose the glamour and just settle
-down to endure each other’s faults and make the
-most of each other’s pleasant side, and not have
-anything more? Or was he getting cynical? Had
-he lived alone too long, as his friends sometimes
-told him, and so was losing the ability really to love
-anybody but himself? He knit his brows, and got
-up whistling to go out and see why the train had
-stopped so long in this little country settlement.</p>
-
-<p>It was just beyond Princeton, and they were not
-far now from New York. It would be most annoying
-to be delayed so near to his destination. He
-was anxious to get things in train for his evening of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
-hard work. It was necessary to find out how the
-land lay as soon as possible.</p>
-
-<p>It appeared that there was a wrecked freight
-ahead of them, and there would be delay. No one
-knew just how long; it would depend on how soon
-the wrecking train arrived to help.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon walked nervously up and down the grass
-at the side of the track, looking anxiously each way
-for sign of the wrecking train. The thought of
-Julia did occur to him, but he put it impatiently
-away, for he knew just how poorly Julia would bear
-a delay on a journey even in his company. He had
-been with her once when the engine got off the track
-on a short trip down to a Virginia house-party, and
-she was the most impatient creature alive, although
-it mattered not one whit to any of the rest of the
-party whether they made merry on the train or at
-their friend’s house. And yet, if Julia were anything
-at all to him, would not he like the thought
-of her companionship now?</p>
-
-<p>A great white dog hobbled up to him and fawned
-upon him as he turned to go back to the train, and
-he laid his hand kindly upon the animal’s head, and
-noted the wistful eyes upon his face. He was a
-noble dog, and Gordon stood for a moment fondling
-him. Then he turned impatiently and tramped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>
-back to his car again. But when he reached the steps
-he found that the dog had followed him.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon frowned, half in annoyance, half in
-amusement, and sitting down on a log by the wayside
-he took the dog’s pink nozzle into his hands,
-caressing the white fur above it gently.</p>
-
-<p>The dog whined happily, and Gordon meditated.
-How long would the train wait? Would he miss
-getting to New York in time for the dinner? Would
-he miss the chance to rise in his chief’s good graces?
-The chief would expect him to get to New York
-some other way if the train were delayed. How
-long ought he to wait on possibilities?</p>
-
-<p>All at once he saw the conductor and trainmen
-coming back hurriedly. Evidently the train was
-about to start. With a final kindly stroke of the
-white head, he called a workman nearby, handed
-him half a dollar to hold the dog, and sprang on
-board.</p>
-
-<p>He had scarcely settled himself into his chair,
-however, before the dog came rushing up the aisle
-from the other end of the car, and precipitated
-himself muddily and noisily upon him.</p>
-
-<p>With haste and perturbation Gordon hurried the
-dog to the door and tried to fling him off, but the
-poor creature pulled back and clung to the platform
-yelping piteously.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>Just then the conductor came from the other
-car and looked at him curiously.</p>
-
-<p>“No dogs allowed in these cars,” he said gruffly.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, if you know how to enforce that rule
-I wish you would,” said Gordon. “I’m sure I
-don’t know what to do with him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where has he been since you left Washington?”
-asked the grim conductor with suspicion in
-his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I certainly haven’t had him secreted about me,
-a dog of that size,” remarked the young man dryly.
-“Besides, he isn’t my dog. I never saw him before
-till he followed me at the station. I’m as anxious
-to be rid of him as he is to stay.”</p>
-
-<p>The conductor eyed the young man keenly, and
-then allowed a grim sense of humor to appear in one
-corner of his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“Got a chain or a rope for him?” he asked
-more sympathetically.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, no,” remarked the unhappy attaché of
-the dog. “Not having had an appointment with the
-dog I didn’t provide myself with a leash for him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Take him into the baggage-car,” said the conductor
-briefly, and slammed his way into the next
-car.</p>
-
-<p>There seemed nothing else to be done, but it was
-most annoying to be thus forced on the notice of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>
-his fellow-travellers, when his commission required
-that he be as inconspicuous as possible.</p>
-
-<p>At Jersey City he hoped to escape and leave the
-dog to the tender mercies of the baggage man, but
-that official was craftily waiting for him and handed
-the animal over to his unwilling master with a satisfaction
-ill-proportioned to the fee he had received
-for caring for him.</p>
-
-<p>Then began a series of misfortunes. Disappointment
-and suspicion stalked beside him, and
-behind him a voice continually whispered his chief’s
-last injunction: “Don’t let anything hinder you!”</p>
-
-<p>Frantically he tried first one place and then another,
-but all to no effect. Nobody apparently
-wanted to care for a stray white dog, and his very
-haste aroused suspicion. Once he came near being
-arrested as a dog thief. He could not get rid of that
-dog! Yet he must not let him follow him! Would
-he have to have the animal sent home to Washington
-as the only solution of the problem? Then a queer
-fancy seized him that just in some such way had
-Miss Julia Bentley been shadowing his days for
-nearly three years now; and he had actually this
-very day been considering calmly whether he might
-not have to marry her, just because she was so persistent
-in her taking possession of him. Not that
-she was unladylike, of course; no, indeed! She was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>
-stately and beautiful, and had never offended. But
-she had always quietly, persistently, taken it for
-granted that he would be her attendant whenever she
-chose; and she always chose whenever he was in the
-least inclined to enjoy any other woman’s company.</p>
-
-<p>He frowned at himself. Was there something
-weak about his character that a woman or a dog
-could so easily master him? Would any other employee
-in the office, once trusted with his great commission,
-have allowed it to be hindered by a dog?</p>
-
-<p>Gordon could not afford to waste any more time.
-He must get rid of him at once!</p>
-
-<p>The express office would not take a dog without
-a collar and chain unless he was crated; and the
-delays and exasperating hindrances seemed to be
-interminable. But at last, following the advice of a
-kindly officer, he took the dog to an institution in
-New York where, he was told, dogs were boarded
-and cared for, and where he finally disposed of him,
-having first paid ten dollars for the privilege. As
-he settled back in a taxicab with his watch in his
-hand, he congratulated himself that he had still
-ample time to reach his hotel and get into evening
-dress before he must present himself for his work.</p>
-
-<p>Within three blocks of the hotel the cab came
-to such a sudden standstill that Gordon was thrown
-to his knees.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">They</span> were surrounded immediately by a crowd
-in which policemen were a prominent feature. The
-chauffeur seemed dazed in the hands of the officers.</p>
-
-<p>A little, barefoot, white-faced figure huddled
-limply in the midst showed Gordon what had happened:
-also there were menacing glances towards
-himself and a show of lifted stones. He heard
-one boy say: “You bet he’s in a hurry to git away.
-Them kind allus is. They don’t care who they kills,
-they don’t!”</p>
-
-<p>A great horror seized him. The cab had run
-over a newsboy and perhaps killed him. Yet instantly
-came the remembrance of his commission:
-“Don’t let anything hinder you. Make it a matter
-of life and death!” Well, it looked as if this was
-a matter of death that hindered him now.</p>
-
-<p>They bundled the moaning boy into the taxicab
-and as Gordon saw no escape through the tightly
-packed crowd, who eyed him suspiciously, he
-climbed in beside the grimy little scrap of unconscious
-humanity, and they were off to the hospital
-to the tune of “Don’t let anything hinder you!
-Don’t let anything hinder you!” until Gordon felt
-that if it did not stop soon he would go crazy. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>
-meditated opening the cab door and making his
-escape in spite of the speed they were making, but
-a vision of broken legs and a bed in the hospital for
-himself held him to his seat. One of the policemen
-had climbed on in front with the chauffeur, and now
-and again he glanced back as if he were conveying
-a couple of prisoners to jail. It was vexatious beyond
-anything! And all on account of that white dog!
-Could anything be more ridiculous than the whole
-performance?</p>
-
-<p>His annoyance and irritation almost made him
-forget that it was his progress through the streets
-that had silenced this mite beside him. But just as
-he looked at his watch for the fifth time the boy
-opened his eyes and moaned, and there was in those
-eyes a striking resemblance to the look in the eyes
-of the dog of whose presence he had but just rid
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon started. In spite of himself it seemed
-as if the dog were reproaching him through the
-eyes of the child. Then suddenly the boy spoke.</p>
-
-<p>“Will yous stay by me till I’m mended?” whispered
-the weak little voice.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s heart leaped in horror again, and it
-came to him that he was being tried out this day
-to see if he had the right stuff in him for hard tasks.
-The appeal in the little street-boy’s eyes reached<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>
-him as no request had ever yet done, and yet he
-might not answer it. Duty,—life and death duty,—called
-him elsewhere, and he must leave the little
-fellow whom he had been the involuntary cause of
-injuring, to suffer and perhaps to die. It cut him
-to the quick not to respond to that urgent appeal.</p>
-
-<p>Was it because he was weary that he was visited
-just then by a vision of Julia Bentley with her
-handsome lips curled scornfully? Julia Bentley
-would not have approved of his stopping to carry
-a boy to the hospital, any more than to care for a
-dog’s comfort.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here, kiddie,” he said gently, leaning
-over the child, “I’d stay by you if I could, but I’ve
-already made myself late for an appointment by
-coming so far with you. Do you know what Duty
-is?”</p>
-
-<p>The child nodded sorrowfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t yous mind me,” he murmured weakly.
-“Just yous go. I’m game all right.” Then the
-voice trailed off into silence again, and the eyelids
-fluttered down upon the little, grimy, unconscious
-face.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon went into the hospital for a brief moment
-to leave some money in the hands of the
-authorities for the benefit of the boy, and a message<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>
-that he would return in a week or two if possible;
-then hurried away.</p>
-
-<p>Back in the cab once more, he felt as if he had
-killed a man and left him lying by the roadside while
-he continued his unswerving march toward the
-hideous duty which was growing momently more
-portentous, and to be relieved of which he would
-gladly have surrendered further hope of his chief’s
-favor. He closed his eyes and tried to think, but all
-the time the little white face of the child came before
-his vision, and the mocking eyes of Julia Bentley
-tantalized him, as if she were telling him that he had
-spoiled all his chances—and hers—by his foolish
-soft-heartedness. Though, what else could he have
-done than he had done, he asked himself fiercely.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at his watch. It was at least ten
-minutes’ ride to the hotel, the best time they could
-make. Thanks to his man the process of dressing
-for evening would not take long, for he knew that
-everything would be in place and he would not be
-hindered. He would make short work of his toilet.
-But there was his suit-case. It would not do to leave
-it at the hotel, neither must he take it with him to the
-house where he was to be a guest. There was nothing
-for it but to go around by the way of the station
-where it would have to be checked. That meant a
-longer ride and more delay, but it must be done.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>Arrived at the hotel at last and in the act of
-signing the unaccustomed “John Burnham” in the
-hotel registry, there came a call to the telephone.</p>
-
-<p>With a hand that trembled from excitement he
-took the receiver. His breath went from him as
-though he had just run up five flights of stairs.
-“Yes? Hello! Oh, Mrs. Holman. Yes! Burnham.
-I’ve but just arrived. I was delayed. A
-wreck ahead of the train. Very kind of you to invite
-me, I’m sure. Yes, I’ll be there in a few moments,
-as soon as I can get rid of the dust of travel. Thank
-you. Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>It all sounded very commonplace to the clerk,
-who was making out bills and fretting because he
-could not get off to take his girl to the theatre that
-night, but as Gordon hung up the receiver he looked
-around furtively as if expecting to see a dozen detectives
-ready to seize upon him. It was the first time
-he had ever undertaken a commission under an
-assumed name and he felt as if he were shouting
-his commission through the streets of New York.</p>
-
-<p>The young man made short work of his toilet.
-Just as he was leaving the hotel a telegram was
-handed him. It was from his chief, and so worded
-that to the operator who had copied it down it read
-like a hasty call to Boston; but to his code-enlightened
-eyes it was merely a blind to cover his exit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>
-from the hotel and from New York, and set any possible
-hunters on a wrong scent. He marvelled at the
-wonderful mind of his chief, who thought out every
-detail of an important campaign, and forgot not one
-little possible point where difficulty might arise.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had a nervous feeling as he again stepped
-into a taxicab and gave his order. He wondered
-how many stray dogs, and newsboys with broken
-legs, would attach themselves to him on the way to
-dinner. Whenever the speed slowed down, or they
-were halted by cars and autos, his heart pounded
-painfully, lest something new had happened, but he
-arrived safely and swiftly at the station, checked
-his suit-case, and took another cab to the residence
-of Mr. Holman, without further incident.</p>
-
-<p>The company were waiting for him, and after
-the introductions they went immediately to the dining-room.
-Gordon took his seat with the feeling
-that he had bungled everything hopelessly, and had
-arrived so late that there was no possible hope of
-his doing what he had been sent to do. For the first
-few minutes his thoughts were a jumble, and his
-eyes dazed with the brilliant lights of the room. He
-could not single out the faces of the people present
-and differentiate them one from another. His heart
-beat painfully against the stiff expanse of evening
-linen. It almost seemed as if those near him could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>
-hear it. He found himself starting and stammering
-when he was addressed as “Mr. Burnham.” His
-thoughts were mingled with white dogs, newsboys,
-and ladies with scornful smiles.</p>
-
-<p>He was seated on the right of his hostess, and
-gradually her gentle manners gave him quietness.
-He began to gain control of himself, and now he
-seemed to see afar the keen eye of his chief watching
-the testing of his new commissioner. His heart
-swelled to meet the demand made upon him. A
-strong purpose came to him to rise above all obstacles
-and conquer in spite of circumstances. He must
-forget everything else and rise to the occasion.</p>
-
-<p>From that moment the dancing lights that multiplied
-themselves in the glittering silver and cut
-glass of the table began to settle into order; and
-slowly, one by one, the conglomeration of faces
-around the board resolved itself into individuals.</p>
-
-<p>There was the pretty, pale hostess, whose gentle
-ways seemed hardly to fit with her large, boisterous,
-though polished husband. Unscrupulousness was
-written all over his ruddy features, also a certain
-unhidden craftiness which passed for geniality
-among his kind.</p>
-
-<p>There were two others with faces full of cunning,
-both men of wealth and culture. One did not
-think of the word “refinement” in connection with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>
-them; still, that might be conceded also; but it was
-all dominated by the cunning that on this occasion,
-at least, was allowed to sit unmasked upon their
-countenances. They had outwitted an enemy, and
-they were openly exultant.</p>
-
-<p>Of the other guests, one was very young and
-sleek, with eyes that had early learned to evade;
-one was old and weary-looking, with a hunted expression;
-one was thick-set, with little eyes set close
-in a fat, selfish face. Gordon began to understand
-that these three but did the bidding of the others.
-They listened to the conversation merely from a
-business standpoint and not with any personal
-interest. They were there because they were needed,
-and not because they were desired.</p>
-
-<p>There was one bond which they seemed to hold
-in common: an alert readiness to combine for their
-mutual safety. This did not manifest itself in anything
-tangible, but the guest felt that it was there
-and ready to spring upon him at any instant.</p>
-
-<p>All this came gradually to the young man as the
-meal with its pleasant formalities began. As yet
-nothing had been said about the reason for his
-being there.</p>
-
-<p>“Did you tell me you were in a wreck?” suddenly
-asked the hostess sweetly, turning to him,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>
-and the table talk hushed instantly while the host
-asked: “A wreck! Was it serious?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon perceived his mistake at once. With
-instant caution, he replied smilingly, “Oh, nothing
-serious, a little break-down on a freight ahead, which
-required time to patch up. It reminded me——”
-and then he launched boldly into one of the bright
-dinner stories for which he was noted among his
-companions at home. His heart was beating wildly,
-but he succeeded in turning the attention of the table
-to his joke, instead of to asking from where he had
-come and on what road. Questions about himself
-were dangerous he plainly saw, if he would get
-possession of the valued paper and get away without
-leaving a trail behind him. He succeeded in one
-thing more, which, though he did not know it, was
-the very thing his chief had hoped he would do when
-he chose him instead of a man who had wider experience;
-he made every man at the table feel that
-he was delightful, a man to be thoroughly trusted
-and enjoyed; who would never suspect them of having
-any ulterior motives in anything they were doing.</p>
-
-<p>The conversation for a little time rippled with
-bright stories and repartee, and Gordon began to
-feel almost as if he were merely enjoying a social
-dinner at home, with Julia Bentley down the table
-listening and haughtily smiling her approval. For<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>
-the time the incidents of the dog and the newsboy
-were forgotten, and the young man felt his self-respect
-rising. His heart was beginning to get
-into normal action again and he could control his
-thoughts. Then suddenly, the crisis arrived.</p>
-
-<p>The soup and fish courses had been disposed of,
-and the table was being prepared for the entrée.
-The host leaned back genially in his chair and said,
-“By the way, Mr. Burnham, did you know I had
-an axe to grind in asking you here this evening?
-That sounds inhospitable, doesn’t it? But I’m sure
-we’re all grateful to the axe that has given us the
-opportunity of meeting you. We are delighted at
-having discovered you.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon bowed, smiling at the compliment, and
-the murmurs of hearty assent around the table
-showed him that he had begun well. If only he
-could keep it up! But how, <i>how</i>, was he to get
-possession of that magic bit of paper and take it
-away with him?</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Burnham, I was delighted to learn through
-a friend that you are an expert in code-reading.
-I wonder, did the message that my friend Mr. Burns
-sent you this morning give you any intimation that
-I wanted you to do me a favor?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon bowed again. “Yes: it was intimated
-to me that you had some message you would like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>
-deciphered, and I have also a letter of introduction
-from Mr. Burns.”</p>
-
-<p>Here Gordon took the letter of introduction
-from his pocket and handed it across the table to his
-host, who opened it genially, as if it were hardly
-necessary to read what was written within since they
-already knew so delightfully the man whom it introduced.
-The duplicate cipher writing in Gordon’s
-pocket crackled knowingly when he settled his coat
-about him again, as if it would say, “My time is
-coming! It is almost here now.”</p>
-
-<p>The young man wondered how he was to get it
-out without being seen, in case he should want to
-use it, but he smiled pleasantly at his host with no
-sign of the perturbation he was feeling.</p>
-
-<p>“You see,” went on Mr. Holman, “we have an
-important message which we cannot read, and our
-expert who understands all these matters is out of
-town and cannot return for some time. It is necessary
-that we know as soon as possible the import
-of this writing.”</p>
-
-<p>While he was speaking Mr. Holman drew from
-his pocket a long, soft leather wallet and took therefrom
-a folded paper which Gordon at once recognized
-as the duplicate of the one he carried in his
-pocket. His head seemed to reel, and all the lights
-go dark before him as he reached a cold hand out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>
-for the paper. He saw in it his own advancement
-coming to his eager grasp, yet when he got it would
-he be able to hold it? Something of the coolness
-of a man facing a terrible danger came to him now.
-By sheer force of will he held his trembling fingers
-steady as he took the bit of paper and opened it
-carelessly, as if he had never heard of it before, saying
-as he did so:</p>
-
-<p>“I will do my best.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a sudden silence as every eye was
-fixed upon him while he unfolded the paper. He
-gave one swift glance about the table before he
-dropped his eyes to the task. Every face held the
-intensity of almost terrible eagerness, and on every
-one but that of the gentle hostess sat cunning—craft
-that would stop at nothing to serve its own
-ends. It was a moment of almost awful import.</p>
-
-<p>The next instant Gordon’s glance went down to
-the paper in his hand, and his brain and heart were
-seized in the grip of fright. There was no other
-word to describe his feeling. The message before
-him was clearly written in the code of the home
-office, and the words stared at him plainly without
-the necessity of study. The import of them was the
-revelation of one of the most momentous questions
-that had to do with the Secret Service work, a question
-the answer to which had puzzled the entire<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>
-department for weeks. That answer he now held
-in his hand, and he knew that if it should come to
-the knowledge of those outside before it had done
-its work through the department it would result in
-dire calamity to the cause of righteousness in the
-country, and incidentally crush the inefficient messenger
-who allowed it to become known. For the
-instant Gordon felt unequal to the task before him.
-How could he keep these bloodhounds at bay—for
-such they were, he perceived from the import of the
-message, bloodhounds who were getting ill-gotten
-gains from innocent and unsuspecting victims—some
-of them little children.</p>
-
-<p>But the old chief had picked his man well. Only
-for an instant the glittering lights darkened before
-his eyes and the cold perspiration started. Then he
-rallied his forces and looked up. The welfare of a
-nation’s honor was in his hands, and he would be
-true. It was a matter of life and death, and he
-would save it or lose his own life if need be.</p>
-
-<p>He summoned his ready smile.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be glad to serve you if I can,” he said.
-“Of course I’d like to look this over a few minutes
-before attempting to read it. Codes are different,
-you know, from one another, but there is a key to
-them all if one can just find it out. This looks as
-if it might be very simple.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>The spell of breathlessness was broken. The
-guests relaxed and went on with their dinner.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon, meanwhile, tried coolly to keep up a
-pretense of eating, the paper held in one hand while
-he seemed to be studying it. Once he turned it over
-and looked on the back. There was a large cross-mark
-in red ink at the upper end. He looked at it
-curiously and then instinctively at his host.</p>
-
-<p>“That is my own mark,” said Mr. Holman. “I
-put it there to distinguish it from other papers.”
-He was smiling politely, but he might as well have
-said, “I put it there to identify it in case of theft;”
-for every one at the table, unless it might be his
-wife, understood that that was what he meant. Gordon
-felt it and was conscious of the other paper
-in his vest-pocket. The way was going to be most
-difficult.</p>
-
-<p>Among the articles in the envelope which the
-chief had given him before his departure from
-Washington were a pair of shell-rimmed eye-glasses,
-a false mustache, a goatee, and a pair of eyebrows.
-He had laughed at the suggestion of high-tragedy
-contained in the disguise, but had brought them with
-him for a possible emergency. The eye-glasses were
-tucked into the vest-pocket beside the duplicate
-paper. He bethought himself of them now. Could
-he, under cover of taking them out, manage to exchange<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>
-the papers? And if he should, how about
-that red-ink mark across the back? Would anyone
-notice its absence? It was well to exchange the
-papers as soon as possible before the writing had
-been studied by those at the table, for he knew that
-the other message, though resembling this one in
-general words, differed enough to attract the attention
-of a close observer. Dared he risk their noticing
-the absence of the red cross on the back?</p>
-
-<p>Slowly, cautiously, under cover of the conversation,
-he managed to get that duplicate paper out
-of his pocket and under the napkin in his lap. This
-he did with one hand, all the time ostentatiously
-holding the code message in the other hand, with its
-back to the people at the table. This hand meanwhile
-also held his coat lapel out that he might the
-more easily search his vest-pockets for the glasses.
-It all looked natural. The hostess was engaged in
-a whispered conversation with the maid at the
-moment. The host and other guests were finishing
-the exceedingly delicious patties on their plates, and
-the precious code message was safely in evidence,
-red cross and all. They saw no reason to be suspicious
-about the stranger’s hunt for his glasses.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, here they are!” he said, quite unconcernedly,
-and put on the glasses to look more closely
-at the paper, spreading it smoothly on the table cloth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
-before him, and wondering how he should get it
-into his lap in place of the one that now lay quietly
-under his napkin.</p>
-
-<p>The host and the guests politely refrained from
-talking to Gordon and told each other incidents of
-the day in low tones that indicated the non-importance
-of what they were saying; while they waited
-for the real business of the hour.</p>
-
-<p>Then the butler removed the plates, pausing beside
-Gordon waiting punctiliously with his silver
-tray to brush away the crumbs.</p>
-
-<p>This was just what Gordon waited for. It had
-come to him as the only way. Courteously he drew
-aside, lifting the paper from the table and putting
-it in his lap, for just the instant while the butler did
-his work; but in that instant the paper with the red
-cross was slipped under the napkin, and the other
-paper took its place upon the table, back down so
-that its lack of a red cross could not be noted.</p>
-
-<p>So far, so good, but how long could this be kept
-up? And the paper under the napkin—how was it
-to be got into his pocket? His hands were like
-ice now, and his brain seemed to be at boiling heat
-as he sat back and realized that the deed was done,
-and could not be undone. If anyone should pick
-up that paper from the table and discover the lack of
-the red mark, it would be all up with him. He looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>
-up for an instant to meet the gaze of the six men
-upon him. They had nothing better to do now than
-to look at him until the next course arrived. He
-realized that not one of them would have mercy
-upon him if they knew what he had done, not one
-unless it might be the tired, old-looking one, and he
-would not dare interfere.</p>
-
-<p>Still Gordon was enabled to smile, and to say
-some pleasant nothings to his hostess when she
-passed him the salted almonds. His hand lay carelessly
-guarding the secret of the paper on the table,
-innocently, as though it just <i>happened</i> that he laid
-it on the paper.</p>
-
-<p>Sitting thus with the real paper in his lap under
-his large damask napkin, the false paper under his
-hand on the table where he from time to time perused
-it, and his eye-glasses which made him look
-most distinguished still on his nose, he heard the
-distant telephone bell ring.</p>
-
-<p>He remembered the words of his chief and sat
-rigid. From his position he could see the tall clock
-in the hall, and its gilded hands pointed to ten
-minutes before seven. It was about the time his
-chief had said he would be called on the telephone.
-What should he do with the two papers?</p>
-
-<p>He had but an instant to think until the well-trained
-butler returned and announced that some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>
-one wished to speak with Mr. Burnham on the
-telephone. His resolve was taken. He would have
-to leave the substitute paper on the table. To carry
-it away with him might arouse suspicion, and, moreover,
-he could not easily manage both without being
-noticed. The real paper must be put safely away
-at all hazards, and he must take the chance that the
-absence of the red mark would remain unnoticed
-until his return.</p>
-
-<p>Deliberately he laid a heavy silver spoon across
-one edge of the paper on the table, and an icecream
-fork across the other, as if to hold it in place
-until his return. Then, rising with apologies,
-he gathered his napkin, paper, and all in his hand,
-holding it against his coat most naturally, as
-if he had forgotten that he had it, and made his
-way into the front hall, where in an alcove was the
-telephone. As he passed the hat-rack he swept
-his coat and hat off with his free hand, and bore
-them with him, devoutly hoping that he was not
-being watched from the dining-room. Could he
-possibly get from the telephone out the front door
-without being seen? Hastily he hid the cipher message
-in an inner pocket. The napkin he dropped on
-the little telephone table, and taking up the receiver
-he spoke: “Hello! Yes! Oh, good evening! You
-don’t say so! How did that happen?” He made<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>
-his voice purposely clear, that it might be heard
-in the dining-room if anyone was listening. Then
-glancing in that direction he saw, to his horror, his
-host lean over and lift the cipher paper he had left
-on the table and hand it to the guest on his right.</p>
-
-<p>The messenger at the other end had given his
-sentence agreed upon and he had replied according
-to the sentences laid down by the chief in his instructions;
-the other end had said good-by and
-hung up, but Gordon’s voice spoke, cool and clear
-in the little alcove, despite his excitement. “All
-right. Certainly, I can take time to write it down.
-Wait until I get my pencil. Now, I’m ready. Have
-you it there? I’ll wait a minute until you get it.”
-His heart beat wildly. The blood surged through
-his ears like rushing waters. Would they look for
-the little red mark? The soft clink of spoons and
-dishes and the murmur of conversation was still
-going on, but there was no doubt but that it was a
-matter of a few seconds before his theft would be
-discovered. He must make an instant dash for liberty
-while he yet could. Cautiously, stealthily, like
-a shadow from the alcove, one eye on the dining-room,
-he stole to the door and turned the knob.
-Yet even as he did so he saw his recent host rise
-excitedly from his seat and fairly snatch the paper
-from the man who held it. His last glimpse of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>
-room where he had but three minutes before been
-enjoying the hospitality of the house was a vision
-of the entire company starting up and pointing to
-himself even as he slid from sight. There was no
-longer need for silence. He had been discovered
-and must fight for his life. He shut the door quickly,
-his nerves so tense that it seemed as if something
-must break soon; opened and slammed the outer
-door, and was out in the great whirling city under
-the flare of electric lamps with only the chance of a
-second of time before his pursuers would be upon
-him.</p>
-
-<p>He came down the steps with the air of one who
-could scarcely take time to touch his feet to the
-ground, but must fly.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Almost</span> in front of the house stood a closed carriage
-with two fine horses, but the coachman was
-looking up anxiously toward the next building. The
-sound of the closing door drew the man’s attention,
-and, catching Gordon’s eye, he made as if to jump
-down and throw open the door of the carriage.
-Quick as a flash, Gordon saw he had been mistaken
-for the man the carriage awaited, and he determined
-to make use of the circumstance.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t get down,” he called to the man, taking
-chances. “It’s very late already. I’ll open the
-door. Drive for all you’re worth.” He jumped in
-and slammed the carriage door behind him, and in
-a second more the horses were flying down the street.
-A glance from the back window showed an excited
-group of his fellow-guests standing at the open door
-of the mansion he had just left pointing toward his
-carriage and wildly gesticulating. He surmised that
-his host was already at the telephone calling for
-his own private detective.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon could scarcely believe his senses that he
-had accomplished his mission and flight so far, and
-yet he knew his situation was most precarious.
-Where he was going he neither knew nor cared.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>
-When he was sure he was far enough from the house
-he would call to the driver and give him directions,
-but first he must make sure that the precious paper
-was safely stowed away, in case he should be caught
-and searched. They might be coming after him with
-motor-cycles in a minute or two.</p>
-
-<p>Carefully rolling the paper into a tiny compass,
-he slipped it into a hollow gold case which was among
-the things in the envelope the chief had given him.
-There was a fine chain attached to the case, and the
-whole looked innocently like a gold pencil. The
-chain he slipped about his neck, dropping the case
-down inside his collar. That done he breathed more
-freely. Only from his dead body should they take
-that away. Then he hastily put on the false eyebrows,
-mustache, and goatee which had been provided
-for his disguise, and pulling on a pair of light
-gloves he felt more fit to evade detection.</p>
-
-<p>He was just beginning to think what he should
-say to the driver about taking him to the station,
-for it was important that he get out of the city at
-once, when, glancing out of the window to see what
-part of the city he was being taken through he became
-aware of an auto close beside the carriage keeping
-pace with it, and two men stretching their necks
-as if to look into the carriage window at him. He
-withdrew to the shadow instantly so that they could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>
-not see him, but the one quick glance he had made
-him sure that one of his pursuers was the short
-thick-set man with the cruel jaw who had sat across
-from him at the dinner-table a few minutes before.
-If this were so he had practically no chance at all
-of escape, for what was a carriage against a swift
-moving car and what was he against a whole city full
-of strangers and enemies? If he attempted to drop
-from the carriage on the other side and escape into
-the darkness he had but a chance of a thousand at
-not being seen, and he could not hope to hide and
-get away in this unknown part of the city. Yet he
-must take his chance somehow, for the carriage must
-sooner or later get somewhere and he be obliged to
-face his pursuers.</p>
-
-<p>To make matters worse, just at the instant when
-he had decided to jump at the next dark place and
-was measuring the distance with his eye, his hand
-even being outstretched to grasp the door handle,
-a blustering, boisterous motor-cycle burst into full
-bloom just where he intended to jump, and the man
-who rode it was in uniform. He dodged back into
-the darkness of the carriage again that he might
-not be seen, and the motor-cycle came so near that
-its rider turned a white face and looked in. He felt
-that his time had come, and his cause was lost. It
-had not yet occurred to him that the men who were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>
-pursuing him would hardly be likely to call in municipal
-aid in their search, lest their own duplicity would
-be discovered. He reasoned that he was dealing
-with desperate men who would stop at nothing to get
-back the original cipher paper, and stop his mouth.
-He was well aware that only death would be considered
-a sufficient silencer for him after what he had
-seen at Mr. Holman’s dinner-table, for the evidence
-he could give would involve the honor of every man
-who had sat there. He saw in a flash that the two
-henchmen whom he was sure were even now riding
-in the car on his right had been at the table for the
-purpose of silencing him if he showed any signs of
-giving trouble. The wonder was that any of them
-dared call in a stranger on a matter of such grave
-import which meant ruin to them all if they were
-found out, but probably they had reasoned that every
-man had his price and had intended to offer him
-a share of the booty. It was likely that the chief had
-caused it to be understood by them that he was the
-right kind of man for their purpose. Yet, of course,
-they had taken precautions, and now they had him
-well caught, an auto on one side, a motor-cycle on
-the other and no telling how many more behind!
-He had been a fool to get into this carriage. He
-might have known it would only trap him to his
-death. There seemed absolutely no chance for escape<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>
-now—yet he must fight to the last. He put his
-hand on his revolver to make sure it was easy to get
-at, tried to think whether it would not be better to
-chew up and swallow that cipher message rather
-than to run the risk of its falling again into the hands
-of the enemy; decided that he must carry it intact
-to his chief if possible; and finally that he must make
-a dash for safety at once, when just then the carriage
-turned briskly into a wide driveway, and the
-attendant auto and motor-cycle dropped behind as
-if puzzled at the move. The carriage stopped short
-and a bright light from an open doorway was flung
-into his face. There seemed to be high stone walls
-on one side and the lighted doorway on the other
-hand evidently led into a great stone building. He
-could hear the puffing of the car and cycle just behind.
-A wild notion that the carriage had been
-placed in front of the house to trap him in case
-he tried to escape, and that he had been brought to
-prison, flitted through his mind.</p>
-
-<p>His hand was on his revolver as the coachman
-jumped down to fling open the carriage door, for he
-intended to fight for his liberty to the last.</p>
-
-<p>He glanced back through the carriage window,
-and the lights of the auto glared in his face. The
-short, thick-set man was getting out of the car,
-and the motor-cyclist had stood his machine up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
-against the wall and was coming toward the carriage.
-Escape was going to be practically impossible. A
-wild thought of dashing out the opposite door of
-his carriage, boldly seizing the motor-cycle and making
-off on it passed through his mind, and then the
-door on his left was flung open and the carriage
-was immediately surrounded by six excited men in
-evening dress all talking at once. “Here you are
-at last!” they chorused.</p>
-
-<p>“Where is the best man?” shouted some one
-from the doorway. “Hasn’t he come either?” And
-as if in answer one of the men by the carriage door
-wheeled and called excitedly: “Yes, he’s come! Tell
-him—tell Jeff—tell him he’s come.” Then turning
-once more to Gordon he seized him by the arm and
-cried: “Come on quickly! There isn’t a minute to
-wait. The organist is fairly frantic. Everybody
-has been just as nervous as could be. We couldn’t
-very well go on without you—you know. But don’t
-let that worry you. It’s all right now you’ve come.
-Forget it, old man, and hustle.” Dimly Gordon perceived
-above the sound of subdued hubbub that an
-organ was playing, and even as he listened it burst
-into the joyous notes of the wedding march. It
-dawned upon him that this was not a prison to which
-he had come but a church—not a court-room but a
-wedding, and horror of horrors! they took him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>
-for the best man. His disguise had been his undoing.
-How was he to get out of this scrape? And
-with his pursuers just behind!</p>
-
-<p>“Let me explain——” he began, and wondered
-what he could explain.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s no time for explanations now, man.
-I tell you the organ has begun the march. We’re
-expected to be marching down that middle aisle this
-very minute and Jeff is waiting for us in the chapel.
-I sent the signal to the bride and another to the
-organist the minute we sighted you. Come on!
-Everybody knows your boat was late in coming in.
-You don’t need to explain a thing till afterwards.”</p>
-
-<p>At that moment one of the ushers moved aside
-and the short, thick-set man stepped between, the
-light shining full upon his face, and Gordon knew
-him positively for the man who had sat opposite
-him at the table a few minutes before. He was
-peering eagerly into the carriage door and Gordon
-saw his only escape was into the church. With his
-heart pounding like a trip hammer he yielded himself
-to the six ushers, who swept the little pursuer
-aside as if he had been a fly and literally bore Gordon
-up the steps and into the church door.</p>
-
-<p>A burst of music filled his senses, and dazzling
-lights, glimpses of flowers, palms and beautiful garments
-bewildered him. His one thought was for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>
-escape from his pursuers. Would they follow him
-into the church and drag him out in the presence
-of all these people, or would they be thrown off the
-track for a little while and give him opportunity
-yet to get away? He looked around wildly for a
-place of exit but he was in the hands of the insistent
-ushers. One of them chattered to him in a low,
-growling whisper, such as men use on solemn
-occasions:</p>
-
-<p>“It must have been rough on you being anxious
-like this about getting here, but never mind now.
-It’ll go all right. Come on. Here’s our cue and
-there stands Jefferson over there. You and he go
-in with the minister, you know. The groom and
-the best man, you understand, they’ll tell you when.
-Jeff has the ring all right, so you won’t need to
-bother about that. There’s absolutely nothing for
-you to do but stand where you’re put and go out
-when the rest do. You needn’t feel a bit nervous.”</p>
-
-<p>Was it possible that these crazy people didn’t
-recognize their mistake even yet here in the bright
-light? Couldn’t they see his mustache was stuck
-on and one eyebrow was crooked? Didn’t they know
-their best man well enough to recognize his voice?
-Surely, surely, some one would discover the mistake
-soon—that man Jeff over there who was eyeing
-him so intently. He would be sure to know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>
-this was not his friend. Yet every minute that they
-continued to think so was a distinct gain for Gordon,
-puzzling his pursuers and giving himself time to
-think and plan and study his strange surroundings.</p>
-
-<p>And now they were drawing him forward and a
-turn of his head gave him a vision of the stubbed
-head of the thick-set man peering in at the chapel
-door and watching him eagerly. He must fool him
-if possible.</p>
-
-<p>“But I don’t know anything about the arrangements,”
-faltered Gordon, reflecting that the best
-man might not be very well known to the ushers and
-perhaps he resembled him. It was not the first time
-he had been taken for another man—and with his
-present make-up and all, perhaps it was natural.
-Could he possibly hope to bluff it out for a few
-minutes until the ceremony was over and then
-escape? It would of course be the best way imaginable
-to throw that impudent little man in the doorway
-off his track. If the real best man would only
-stay away long enough it would not be a difficult
-part to play. The original man might turn up after
-he was gone and create a pleasant little mystery, but
-nobody would be injured thereby. All this passed
-through his mind while the usher kept up his sepulchral
-whisper:</p>
-
-<p>“Why, there are just the usual arrangements,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>
-you know—nothing new. You and Jeff go in after
-the ushers have reached the back of the church and
-opened the door. Then you just stand there till
-Celia and her uncle come up the aisle. Then follows
-the ceremony—very brief. Celia had all that repeating
-after the minister cut out on account of not
-being able to rehearse. It’s to be just the simplest
-service, not the usual lengthy affair. Don’t worry,
-you’ll be all right, old man. Hurry! They’re calling
-you. Leave your hat right here. Now I must go.
-Keep cool. It’ll soon be over.”</p>
-
-<p>The breathless usher hurried through the door
-and settled into a sort of exalted hobble to the time
-of the wonderful Lohengrin music. Gordon turned,
-thinking even yet to make a possible escape, but the
-eagle-eye of his pursuer was upon him and the man
-Jefferson was by his side:</p>
-
-<p>“Here we are!” he said, eagerly grabbing Gordon’s
-hat and coat and dumping them on a chair.
-“I’ll look after everything. Just come along. It’s
-time we went in. The doctor is motioning for us.
-Awfully glad to see you at last. Too bad you had to
-rush so. How many years is it since I saw you?
-Ten! You’ve changed some, but you’re looking fine
-and dandy. No need to worry about anything. It’ll
-soon be over and the knot tied.”</p>
-
-<p>Mechanically Gordon fell into place beside the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>
-man Jefferson, who was a pleasant-faced youth,
-well-groomed and handsome. Looking furtively at
-his finely-cut, happy features, Gordon wondered if
-he would feel as glad as this youth seemed to be,
-when he walked down the aisle to meet his bride.
-How, by the way, would he feel if he were going to
-be married now,—going into the face of this great
-company of well-dressed people to meet Miss Julia
-Bentley and be joined to her for life? Instinctively
-his soul shrank within him at the thought.</p>
-
-<p>But now the door was wide open, the organ pealing
-its best, and he suddenly became aware of many
-eyes, and of wondering how long his eyebrows
-would withstand the perspiration that was trickling
-softly down his forehead. His mustache—ridiculous
-appendage! why had he not removed it?—was
-it awry? Dared he put up his hand to see? His
-gloves! Would anyone notice that they were not
-as strictly fresh as a best man’s gloves should be?
-Then he took his first step to the music, and it was
-like being pulled from a delicious morning nap and
-plunged into a tub of icy water.</p>
-
-<p>He walked with feet that suddenly weighed like
-lead, across a church that looked to be miles in width,
-in the face of swarms of curious eyes. He tried to
-reflect that these people were all strangers to him,
-that they were not looking at him, anyway, but at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>
-the bridegroom by his side, and that it mattered very
-little what he did, so long as he kept still and braved
-it out, if only the real best man didn’t turn up until
-he was well out of the church. Then he could
-vanish in the dark, and go by some back way to a car
-or a taxicab and so to the station. The thought of
-the paper inside the gold pencil-case filled him with
-a sort of elation. If only he could get out of this
-dreadful church, he would probably get away safely.
-Perhaps even the incident of the wedding might
-prove to be his protection, for they would never seek
-him in a crowded church at a fashionable wedding.</p>
-
-<p>The man by his side managed him admirably,
-giving him a whispered hint, a shove, or a push now
-and then, and getting him into the proper position.
-It seemed as if the best man had to occupy the most
-trying spot in all the church, but as they put him
-there, of course it was right. He glanced furtively
-over the faces near the front, and they all looked
-quite satisfied, as if everything were going as it
-should, so he settled down to his fate, his white,
-strained face partly hidden by the abundant display
-of mustache and eyebrow. People whispered softly
-how handsome he looked, and some suggested that
-he was not so stout as when they had last seen him,
-ten years before. His stay in a foreign land must
-have done him good. One woman went so far as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>
-to tell her daughter that he was far more distinguished-looking
-than she had ever thought he could
-become, but it was wonderful what a stay in a foreign
-land would do to improve a person.</p>
-
-<p>The music stole onward; and slowly, gracefully,
-like the opening of buds into flowers, the bridal party
-inched along up the middle aisle until at last the
-bride in all the mystery of her white veil arrived,
-and all the maidens in their flowers and many colored
-gauzes were suitably disposed about her.</p>
-
-<p>The feeble old man on whose arm the bride had
-leaned as she came up the aisle dropped out of the
-procession, melting into one of the front seats, and
-Gordon found himself standing beside the bride.
-He felt sure there must be something wrong about
-it, and looked at his young guide with an attempt
-to change places with him, but the man named Jefferson
-held him in place with a warning eye. “You’re
-all right. Just stay where you are,” he whispered
-softly, and Gordon stayed, reflecting on the strange
-fashions of weddings, and wondering why he had
-never before taken notice of just how a wedding
-party came in and stood and got out again. If he
-was only out of this how glad he would be. It
-seemed one had to be a pretty all-around man to be
-a member of the Secret Service.</p>
-
-<p>The organ had hushed its voice to a sort of exultant<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>
-sobbing, filled with dreams of flowers and joys,
-and hints of sorrow; and the minister in a voice
-both impressive and musical began the ceremony.
-Gordon stood doggedly and wondered if that really
-was one eyebrow coming down over his eye, or only
-a drop of perspiration.</p>
-
-<p>Another full second passed, and he decided that
-if he ever got out of this situation alive he would
-never, no, never, no, <i>never</i>, get married himself.</p>
-
-<p>During the next second that crawled by he
-became supremely conscious of the creature in white
-by his side. A desire possessed him to look at her
-and see if she were like Julia Bentley. It was like
-a nightmare haunting his dreams that she <i>was</i> Julia
-Bentley somehow transported to New York and
-being married to him willy-nilly. He could not
-shake it off, and the other eyebrow began to feel
-shaky. He was sure it was sailing down over his
-eye. If he only dared press its adhesive lining a
-little tighter to his flesh!</p>
-
-<p>Some time during the situation there came a
-prayer, interminable to his excited imagination, as
-all the other ceremonies.</p>
-
-<p>Under cover of the hush and the supposedly
-bowed heads, Gordon turned desperately toward the
-bride. He must see her and drive this phantasm
-from his brain. He turned, half expecting to see<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>
-Julia’s tall, handsome form, though telling himself
-he was a fool, and wondering why he so dreaded
-the idea. Then his gaze was held fascinated.</p>
-
-<p>She was a little creature, slender and young and
-very beautiful, with a beauty which a deathly pallor
-only enhanced. Her face was delicately cut, and
-set in a frame of fine dark hair, the whole made
-most exquisite by the mist of white tulle that
-breathed itself about her like real mist over a flower.
-But the lovely head drooped, the coral lips had a
-look of unutterable sadness, and the long lashes
-swept over white cheeks. He could not take his
-eyes from her now that he had looked. How lovely,
-and how fitting for the delightful youth by his side!
-Now that he thought of it she was like him, only
-smaller and more delicate, of course. A sudden
-fierce, ridiculous feeling of envy filled Gordon’s
-heart. Why couldn’t he have known and loved a
-girl like that? Why had Julia Bentley been forever
-in his pathway as the girl laid out for his choice?</p>
-
-<p>He looked at her with such intensity that a couple
-of dear old sisters who listened to the prayer with
-their eyes wide open, whispered one to the other:
-“Just see him look at her! How he must love her!
-Wasn’t it beautiful that he should come right from
-the steamer to the church and never see her till<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
-now, for the first time in ten long years. It’s so
-romantic!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” whispered the other; “and I believe
-it’ll last. He looks at her that way. Only I do
-dislike that way of arranging the hair on his face.
-But then it’s foreign I suppose. He’ll probably get
-over it if they stay in this country.”</p>
-
-<p>A severe old lady in the seat in front turned a
-reprimanding chin toward them and they subsided.
-Still Gordon continued to gaze.</p>
-
-<p>Then the bride became aware of his look, raised
-her eyes, and—they were full of tears!</p>
-
-<p>They gave him one reproachful glance that shot
-through his soul like a sword, and her lashes
-drooped again. By some mysterious control over
-the law of gravity, the tears remained unshed, and
-the man’s gaze was turned aside; but that look had
-done its mighty work.</p>
-
-<p>All the experiences of the day rushed over him
-and seemed to culminate in that one look. It was
-as if the reproach of all things had come upon him.
-The hurt in the white dog’s eyes had touched him,
-the perfect courage in the appeal of the child’s eyes
-had called forth his deepest sympathy, but the tears
-of this exquisite woman wrung his heart. He saw
-now that the appeal of the dog and the child had
-been the opening wedge for the look of a woman,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>
-which tore self from him and flung it at her feet
-for her to walk upon; and when the prayer was
-ended he found that he was trembling.</p>
-
-<p>He looked vindictively at the innocent youth
-beside him, as the soft rustle of the audience and
-the little breath of relief from the bridal party
-betokened the next stage in the ceremony. What
-had this innocent-looking youth done to cause tears
-in those lovely eyes? Was she marrying him against
-her will? He was only a boy, anyway. What right
-had he to suppose he could care for a delicate creature
-like that? He was making her cry already, and
-he seemed to be utterly unconscious of it. What
-could be the matter? Gordon felt a desire to kick
-him.</p>
-
-<p>Then it occurred to him that inadvertently <i>he</i>
-might have been the cause of her tears; he, supposedly
-the best man, who had been late, and held
-up the wedding no knowing how long. Of course
-it wasn’t really his fault; but by proxy it was, for
-he now was masquerading as that unlucky best man,
-and she was very likely reproaching him for what
-she supposed was his stupidity. He had heard that
-women cried sometimes from vexation, disappointment
-or excitement.</p>
-
-<p>Yet in his heart of hearts he could not set those
-tears, that look, down to so trivial a cause. They<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>
-had reached his very soul, and he felt there was
-something deeper there than mere vexation. There
-had been bitter reproach for a deep wrong done.
-The glance had told him that. All the manhood in
-him rose to defend her against whoever had hurt
-her. He longed to get one more look into her eyes
-to make quite sure; and then, if there was still
-appeal there, his soul must answer it.</p>
-
-<p>For the moment his commission, his ridiculous
-situation, the real peril to his life and trust, were
-forgotten.</p>
-
-<p>The man Jefferson had produced a ring and was
-nudging him. It appeared that the best man had
-some part to play with that ring. He dimly remembered
-somewhere hearing that the best man must
-hand the ring to the bridegroom at the proper moment,
-but it was absurd for them to go through the
-farce of doing that when the bridegroom already
-held the golden circlet in his fingers! Why did he
-not step up like a man and put it upon the outstretched
-hand; that little white hand just in front
-of him there, so timidly held out with its glove
-fingers tucked back, like a dove crept out from its
-covert unwillingly?</p>
-
-<p>But that Jefferson-man still held out the ring
-stupidly to him, and evidently expected him to take
-it. Silly youth! There was nothing for it but to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>
-take it and hand it back, of course. He must do
-as he was told and hasten that awful ceremony to
-its interminable close. He took the ring and held
-it out, but the young man did not take it again.
-Instead he whispered, “Put it on her finger!”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon frowned. Could he be hearing aright?
-Why didn’t the fellow put the ring on his own
-bride? If he were being married, he would knock
-any man down that dared to put his wife’s wedding
-ring on for him. Could that be the silly custom now,
-to have the best man put the bride’s ring on? How
-unutterably out of place! But he must not make
-a scene, of course.</p>
-
-<p>The little timid hand, so slender and white, came
-a shade nearer as if to help, and the ring finger
-separated itself from the others.</p>
-
-<p>He looked at the smooth circlet. It seemed too
-tiny for any woman’s finger. Then, reverently, he
-slipped it on, with a strange, inexpressible longing
-to touch the little hand. While he was thinking
-himself all kinds of a fool, and was enjoying one
-of his intermittent visions of Julia Bentley’s expressive
-countenance interpolated on the present
-scene, a strange thing happened.</p>
-
-<p>There had been some low murmurs and motions
-which he had not noticed because he thought his
-part of this very uncomfortable affair was about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>
-concluded, when, lo and behold, the minister and
-the young man by his side both began fumbling
-for his hand, and among them they managed to
-bring it into position and place in its astonished
-grasp the little timid hand that he had just crowned
-with its ring.</p>
-
-<p>As his fingers closed over the bride’s hand, there
-was such reverence, such tenderness in his touch
-that the girl’s eyes were raised once more to his
-face, this time with the conquered tears in retreat,
-but all the pain and appeal still there. He looked
-and involuntarily he pressed her hand the closer,
-as if to promise aforetime whatever she would
-ask. Then, with her hand in his, and with the realization
-that they two were detached as it were from
-the rest of the wedding party, standing in a little
-centre of their own, his senses came back to him,
-and he perceived as in a flash of understanding that
-it was <i>they</i> who were being married!</p>
-
-<p>There had been some terrible, unexplainable mistake,
-and he was stupidly standing in another man’s
-place, taking life vows upon himself! The thing
-had passed from an adventure of little moment into
-a matter of a life-tragedy, two life-tragedies perhaps!
-What should he do?</p>
-
-<p>With the question came the words, “I pronounce
-you husband and wife,” and “let no man put
-asunder.”</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">What</span> had he done? Was it some great unnamed,
-unheard-of crime he had unconsciously committed?
-Could anyone understand or excuse such
-asinine stupidity? Could he ever hold up his head
-again, though he fled to the most distant part of the
-globe? Was there nothing that could save the situation?
-Now, before they left the church, could he
-not declare the truth, and set things right, undo the
-words that had been spoken in the presence of all
-these witnesses, and send out to find the real bridegroom?
-Surely neither law nor gospel could endorse
-a bond made in the ignorance of either participant.
-It would, of course, be a terrible thing
-for the bride, but better now than later. Besides,
-he was pledged by that hand-clasp to answer the
-appeal in her eyes and protect her. This, then, was
-what it had meant!</p>
-
-<p>But his commission! What of that? “A matter
-of life and death!” Ah! but this was <i>more</i> than
-life or death!</p>
-
-<p>While these rapid thoughts were flashing
-through his brain, the benediction was being pronounced,
-and with the last word the organ pealed
-forth its triumphant lay. The audience stirred excitedly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>
-anticipating the final view of the wedding
-procession.</p>
-
-<p>The bride turned to take her bouquet from the
-maid of honor, and the movement broke the spell
-under which Gordon had been held.</p>
-
-<p>He turned to the young man by his side and
-spoke hurriedly in a low tone.</p>
-
-<p>“An awful mistake has been made,” he said,
-and the organ drowned everything but the word
-“mistake.” “I don’t know what to do,” he went
-on. But young Jefferson hastened to reassure him
-joyously:</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit of it, old chap. Nobody noticed
-that hitch about the ring. It was only a second.
-Everything went off slick. You haven’t anything
-more to do now but take my sister out. Look alive,
-there! She looks as if she might be going to faint!
-She hasn’t been a bit well all day! Steady her,
-quick, can’t you? She’ll stick it out till she gets to
-the air, but hurry, for goodness’ sake!”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon turned in alarm. Already the frail
-white bride had a claim on him. His first duty
-was to get her out of this crowd. Perhaps, after all,
-she had discovered that he was not the right man,
-and that was the meaning of her tears and appeal.
-Yet she had held her own and allowed things to
-go through to the finish, and perhaps he had no right<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>
-to reveal to the assembled multitudes what she evidently
-wanted kept quiet. He must wait till he could
-ask her. He must do as this other man said—this—this
-brother of hers—who was of course the best
-man. Oh, fool, and blind! Why had he not understood
-at the beginning and got himself out of this
-fix before it was too late? And what should he do
-when he reached the door? How could he ever
-explain? His commission! He dared not breathe
-a word of that? What explanation could he possibly
-offer for his—his—yes——his <i>criminal</i> conduct?
-Why, no such thing was ever heard of in the history
-of mankind as that which had happened to him.
-From start to finish it was—it—was—— He could
-not think of words to express what it was.</p>
-
-<p>He was by this time meandering jerkily down
-the aisle, attempting to keep time to the music and
-look the part that she evidently expected him to
-play, but his eyes were upon her face, which was
-whiter now and, if possible, lovelier, than before.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, just see how devoted he is,” murmured
-the eldest of the two dear old sisters, and he caught
-the sense of her words as he passed, and wondered.
-Then, immediately before him, retreating backward
-down the aisle with terrible eyes of scorn upon him,
-he seemed to feel the presence of Miss Julia Bentley
-leading onward toward the church door; but he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>
-would not take his eyes from that sweet, sad face
-of the white bride on his arm to look. He somehow
-knew that if he could hold out until he reached that
-door without looking up, her power over him would
-be exorcised forever.</p>
-
-<p>Out into the vacant vestibule, under the tented
-canopy, alone together for the moment, he felt her
-gentle weight grow heavy on his arm, and knew her
-footsteps were lagging. Instinctively, lest others
-should gather around them, he almost lifted her and
-bore her down the carpeted steps, through the covered
-pathway, to the luxurious motor-car waiting
-with open door, and placed her on the cushions.
-Some one closed the car door and almost immediately
-they were in motion.</p>
-
-<p>She settled back with a half sigh, as if she could
-not have borne one instant more of strain, then sitting
-opposite he adjusted the window to give her
-air. She seemed grateful but said nothing. Her
-eyes were closed wearily, and the whole droop of
-her figure showed utter exhaustion. It seemed a
-desecration to speak to her, yet he must have some
-kind of an understanding before they reached their
-destination.</p>
-
-<p>“An explanation is due to you——” he began,
-without knowing just what he was going to say,
-but she put out her hand with a weary protest.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>“Oh, please don’t!” she pleaded. “I know—the
-boat was late! It doesn’t matter in the least.”</p>
-
-<p>He sat back appalled! She did not herself know
-then that she had married the wrong man!</p>
-
-<p>“But you don’t understand,” he protested.</p>
-
-<p>“Never mind,” she moaned. “I don’t want to
-understand. Nothing can change things. Only, let
-me be quiet till we get to the house, or I never can
-go through with the rest of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Her words ended with almost a sob, and he sat
-silent for an instant, with a mingling of emotions,
-uppermost of which was a desire to take the little,
-white, shrinking girl into his arms and comfort her,
-“Nothing can change things!” That sounded as
-though she did know but thought it too late to undo
-the great mistake now that it had been made. He
-must let her know that he had not understood until
-the ceremony was over. While he sat helplessly
-looking at her in the dimness of the car where
-she looked so small and sad and misty huddled beside
-her great bouquet, she opened her eyes and
-looked at him. She seemed to understand that he
-was about to speak again. By the great arc light
-they were passing he saw there were tears in her
-eyes again, and her voice held a child-like pleading
-as she uttered one word:</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>It hurt him like a knife, he knew not why. But
-he could not resist the appeal. Duty or no duty, he
-could not disobey her command.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well.” He said it quietly, almost tenderly,
-and sat back with folded arms. After all,
-what explanation could he give her that she would
-believe? He might not breathe a word of his commission
-or the message. What other reason could
-he give for his extraordinary appearance at her
-wedding and by her side?</p>
-
-<p>The promise in his voice seemed to give her
-relief. She breathed a sigh of relief and closed
-her eyes. He must just keep still and have his
-eyes open for a chance to escape when the carriage
-reached its destination.</p>
-
-<p>Thus silently they threaded through unknown
-streets, strange thoughts in the heart of each. The
-bride was struggling with her heavy burden, and the
-man was trying to think his way out of the maze of
-perplexity into which he had unwittingly wandered.
-He tried to set his thoughts in order and find out just
-what to do. First of all, of course came his commission,
-but somehow every time the little white bride
-opposite took first place in his mind. Could he serve
-both? What <i>would</i> serve both, and what would
-serve <i>either</i>? As for himself, he was free to confess<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>
-that there was no room left in the present situation
-for even a consideration of his own interests.</p>
-
-<p>Whatever there was of good in him must go now
-to set matters right in which he had greatly blundered.
-He must do the best he could for the girl
-who had so strangely crossed his pathway, and get
-back to his commission. But when he tried to realize
-the importance of his commission and set it over
-against the interests of the girl-bride, his mind became
-confused. What should he do! He could not
-think of slipping away and leaving her without further
-words, even if an opportunity offered itself.
-Perhaps he was wrong. Doubtless his many friends
-might tell him so if they were consulted, but he did
-not intend to consult them. He intended to see this
-troubled soul to some place of safety, and look out
-for his commission as best he could afterward.
-One thing he did not fully realize, and that was
-that Miss Julia Bentley’s vision troubled him no
-longer. He was free. There was only one woman
-in the whole wide world that gave him any concern,
-and that was the little sorrowful creature who sat
-opposite to him, and to whom he had just been
-married.</p>
-
-<p>Just been married! He! The thought brought
-with it a thrill of wonder, and a something else that
-was not unpleasant. What if he really had? Of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>
-course he had not. Of course such a thing could not
-hold good. But what if he had! Just for an instant
-he entertained the thought—would he be glad or
-sorry? He did not know her, of course, had heard
-her speak but a few words, had looked into her face
-plainly but once, and yet suppose she were his! His
-heart answered the question with a glad bound that
-astonished him, and all his former ideas of real
-love were swept from his mind in a breath. He
-knew that, stranger though she was, he could take
-her to his heart; cherish her, love her and bear with
-her, as he never could have done Julia Bentley.
-Then all at once he realized that he was allowing his
-thoughts to dwell upon a woman who by all that was
-holy belonged to another man, and that other man
-would doubtless soon be the one with whom he
-would have to deal. He would soon be face to face
-with a new phase of the situation and he must prepare
-himself to meet it. What was he going to do?
-Should he plan to escape from the opposite door
-of the automobile while the bride was being assisted
-from her seat? No, he could not, for he would be
-expected to get out first and help her out. Besides,
-there would be too many around, and he could not
-possibly get away. But, greater than any such
-reason, the thing that held him bound was the look
-in her eyes through the tears. He simply could not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>
-leave her until he knew that she no longer needed
-him. And yet there was his commission! Well,
-he must see her in the hands of those who would
-care for her at least. So much he had done even
-for the white dog, and then, too, surely she was
-worth as many minutes of his time as he had been
-compelled to give to the injured child of the streets.
-If he only could explain to her now!</p>
-
-<p>The thought of his message, with its terrible
-significance, safe in his possession, sent shivers of
-anxiety through his frame! Suppose he should be
-caught, and it taken from him, all on account of this
-most impossible incident! What scorn, what contumely,
-would be his! How could he ever explain
-to his chief? Would anybody living believe that a
-man in his senses could be married to a stranger
-before a whole church full of people, and not know
-he was being married until the deed was done—and
-then not do anything about it after it was done?
-That was what he was doing now this very minute.
-He ought to be explaining something somehow to
-that poor little creature in the shadow of the carriage.
-Perhaps in some way it might relieve her
-sorrow if he did, and yet when he looked at her
-and tried to speak his mouth was hopelessly closed.
-He might not tell her anything!</p>
-
-<p>He gradually sifted his immediate actions down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>
-to two necessities; to get his companion to a safe
-place where her friends could care for her, and to
-make his escape as soon and as swiftly as possible.
-It was awful to run and leave her without telling
-her anything about it; when she evidently believed
-him to be the man she had promised and intended to
-marry; but the real bridegroom would surely turn
-up soon somehow and make matters right. Anyhow,
-it was the least he could do to take himself out
-of her way, and to get his trust to its owners at once.</p>
-
-<p>The car halted suddenly before a brightly lighted
-mansion, whose tented entrance effectually shut out
-the gaze of alien eyes, and made the transit from
-car to domicile entirely private. There was no
-opportunity here to disappear. The sidewalk and
-road were black with curious onlookers. He stepped
-from the car first and helped the lady out. He bore
-her heavy bouquet because she looked literally too
-frail to carry it further herself.</p>
-
-<p>In the doorway she was surrounded by a bevy
-of servants, foremost among whom her old nurse
-claimed the privilege of greeting her with tears and
-smiles and many “Miss-Celia-my-dears,” and Gordon
-stood for the instant entranced, watching the
-sweet play of loving kindness in the face of the pale
-little bride. As soon as he could lay down those
-flowers inconspicuously he would be on the alert for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>
-a way of escape. It surely would be found through
-some back or side entrance of the house.</p>
-
-<p>But even as the thought came to him the old
-nurse stepped back to let the other servants greet
-the bride with stiff bows and embarrassed words of
-blessing, and he felt a hand laid heavily on his arm.</p>
-
-<p>He started as he turned, thinking instantly again
-of his commission and expecting to see a policeman
-in uniform by his side, but it was only the old nurse,
-with tears of devotion still in her faded eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Mister George, ye hevn’t forgot me, hev ye?”
-she asked, earnestly. “You usen’t to like me verra
-well, I mind, but ye was awful for the teasin’ an’ I
-was always for my Miss Celie! But bygones is bygones
-now an’ I wish ye well. Yer growed a man,
-an’ I know ye must be worthy o’ her, or she’d never
-hev consented to take ye. Yev got a gude wife an’
-no mistake, an’ I know ye’ll be the happiest man
-alive. Ye won’t hold it against me, Mister George,
-that I used to tell yer uncle on your masterful tricks,
-will ye? You mind I was only carin’ fer my baby
-girl, an’ ye were but a boy.”</p>
-
-<p>She paused as if expecting an answer, and Gordon
-embarrassedly assured her that he would never
-think of holding so trifling a matter against her.
-He cast a look of reverent admiration and tenderness
-toward the beautiful girl who was smiling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>
-on her loyal subjects like a queen, roused from her
-sorrow to give joy to others; and even her old nurse
-was satisfied.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, ye luve her, Mister George, don’t ye?”
-the nurse questioned. “I don’t wonder. Everybody
-what lays eyes on her luves her. She’s that
-dear——” here the tears got the better of the good
-woman for an instant and she forgot herself and
-pulled at the skirt of her new black dress thinking
-it was an apron, and wishing to wipe her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Then suddenly Gordon found his lips uttering
-strange words, without his own apparent consent,
-as if his heart had suddenly taken things in hand
-and determined to do as it pleased without consulting
-his judgment.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I love her,” he was saying, and to his
-amazement he found that the words were true.</p>
-
-<p>This discovery made matters still more complicated.</p>
-
-<p>“Then ye’ll promise me something, Mister
-George, won’t ye?” said the nurse eagerly, her tears
-having their own way down her rosy anxious face.
-“Ye’ll promise me never to make her feel bad any
-more? She’s cried a lot these last three months, an’
-nobody knows but me. She could hide it from them
-all but her old nurse that has loved her so long.
-But she’s been that sorrowful, enough fer a whole<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>
-lifetime. Promise that ye’ll do all in yer power to
-make her happy always.”</p>
-
-<p>“I will do all in my power to make her happy,”
-he said, solemnly, as if he were uttering a vow, and
-wondered how short-lived that power was to be.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> wedding party had arrived in full force
-now. Carriages and automobiles were unloading;
-gay voices and laughter filled the house. The servants
-disappeared to their places, and the white
-bride, with only a motioning look toward Gordon,
-led the way to the place where they were to stand
-under an arch of roses, lilies and palms, in a room
-hung from the ceiling with drooping ferns and white
-carnations on invisible threads of silver wire, until
-it all seemed like a fairy dream.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had no choice but to follow, as his way
-was blocked by the incoming guests, and he foresaw
-that his exit would have to be made from some other
-door than the front if he were to escape yet awhile.
-As he stepped into the mystery of the flower-scented
-room where his lady led the way, he was conscious
-of a feeling of transition from the world of ordinary
-things into one of wonder, beauty and mysterious
-joy; but all the time he knew he was an impostor,
-who had no right in that silver-threaded bower.</p>
-
-<p>Yet there he stood bowing, shaking hands, and
-smirking behind his false mustache, which threatened
-every minute to betray him.</p>
-
-<p>People told him he was looking well, and congratulated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>
-him on his bride. Some said he was
-stouter than when he left the country, and some
-said he was thinner. They asked him questions
-about relatives and friends living and dead, and he
-ran constant risk of getting into hopeless difficulties.
-His only safety was in smiling, and saying
-very little; seeming not to hear some questions, and
-answering others with another question. It was not
-so hard after he got started, because there were so
-many people, and they kept coming close upon one
-another, so no one had much time to talk. Then
-supper with its formalities was got through with
-somehow, though to Gordon, with his already satisfied
-appetite and his hampering mustache, it seemed
-an endless ordeal.</p>
-
-<p>“Jeff,” as they all called him, was everywhere,
-attending to everything, and he slipped up to the
-unwilling bridegroom just as he was having to
-answer a very difficult question about the lateness of
-his vessel, and the kind of passage they had experienced
-in crossing. By this time Gordon had discovered
-that he was supposed to have been ten years
-abroad, and his steamer had been late in landing, but
-where he came from or what he had been doing over
-there were still to be found out; and it was extremely
-puzzling to be asked from what port he had
-sailed, and how he came to be there when he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>
-been supposed to have been in St. Petersburg but
-the week before? His state of mind was anything
-but enviable. Besides all this, Gordon was just reflecting
-that the last he had seen of his hat and coat
-was in the church. What had become of them, and
-how could he go to the station without a hat? Then
-opportunely “Jeff” arrived.</p>
-
-<p>“Your train leaves at ten three,” he said in a
-low, business-like tone, as if he enjoyed the importance
-of having made all the arrangements. “I’ve
-secured the stateroom as you cabled me to do, and
-here are the tickets and checks. The trunks are
-down there all checked. Celia didn’t want any nonsense
-about their being tied up with white ribbon.
-She hates all that. We’ve arranged for you to slip
-out by the fire-escape and down through the back
-yard of the next neighbor, where a motor, just a
-plain regular one from the station, will be waiting
-around the corner in the shadow. Celia knows
-where it is. None of the party will know you are
-gone until you are well under way. The car they
-think you will take is being elaborately adorned with
-white at the front door now, but you won’t have
-any trouble about it. I’ve fixed everything up.
-Your coat and hat are out on the fire-escape, and as
-soon as Celia’s ready I’ll show you the way.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon thanked him. There was nothing else<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>
-to do, but his countenance grew blank. Was there,
-then, to be no escape? Must he actually take another
-man’s bride with him in order to get away?
-And how was he to get away from her? Where
-was the real bridegroom and why did he not appear
-upon the scene? And yet what complications that
-might bring up. He began to look wildly about
-for a chance to flee at once, for how could he possibly
-run away with a bride on his hands? If only
-some one were going with them to the station he
-could slip away with a clear conscience, leaving her
-in good hands, but to leave her alone, ill, and distressed
-was out of the question. He had rid himself
-of a lonely dog and a suffering child, though
-it gave him anguish to do the deed, but leave this
-lovely woman for whom he at least appeared to have
-become responsible, he could not, until he was sure
-she would come to no harm through him.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let
-anything hinder you!”</p>
-
-<p>It appeared that this refrain had not ceased for
-an instant since it began, but had chimed its changes
-through music, ceremony, prayer and reception without
-interruption. It acted like a goad upon his conscience
-now. He must do something that would
-set him free to go back to Washington. An inspiration
-came to him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>“Wouldn’t you like to go to the station with
-us?” he asked the young man, “I am sure your
-sister would like to have you.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy’s face lit up joyfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, wouldn’t you mind? I’d like it awfully,
-and—if it’s all the same to you, I wish Mother could
-go too. It’s the first time Celia and she were ever
-separated, and I know she hates it fiercely to have
-to say good-by with the house full of folks this
-way. But she doesn’t expect it of course, and
-really it isn’t fair to you, when you haven’t seen
-Celia alone yet, and it’s your wedding trip——”</p>
-
-<p>“There will be plenty of time for us,” said the
-compulsory bridegroom graciously, and felt as if
-he had perjured himself. It was not in his nature
-to enjoy a serious masquerade of this kind.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall be glad to have you both come,” he
-added earnestly. “I really want you. Tell your
-mother.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy grasped his hand impulsively:</p>
-
-<p>“I say,” said he, “you’re all right! I don’t
-mind confessing that I’ve hated the very thought of
-you for a whole three months, ever since Celia told
-us she had promised to marry you. You see, I never
-really knew you when I was a little chap, but I didn’t
-used to like you. I took an awful scunner to you
-for some reason. I suppose kids often take irrational<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>
-dislikes like that. But ever since I’ve
-laid eyes on you to-night, I’ve liked you all the way
-through. I like your eyes. It isn’t a bit as I thought
-I remembered you. I used to think your eyes had a
-sort of deceitful look. Awful to tell you, isn’t it?
-But I felt as if I wanted to have it off my conscience,
-for I see now you’re nothing of the kind. You’ve
-got the honestest eyes I ever saw on a man, and
-I’d stake my last cent that you wouldn’t cheat a
-church mouse. You’re true as steel, and I’m mighty
-glad you’re my brother-in-law. I know you’ll be
-good to Celia.”</p>
-
-<p>The slow color mounted under his disguise until
-it reached Gordon’s burnished brown hair. His eyes
-were honest eyes. They had always been so—until
-to-day. Into what a world of deceit he had entered!
-How he would like to make a clean breast of it all
-to this nice, frank boy; but he must not! for there
-was his trust! For an instant he was on the point
-of trying to explain that he was not the true bridegroom,
-and getting young Jefferson to help him to
-set matters right, but an influx of newly arrived
-guests broke in upon their privacy, and he could
-only press the boy’s hand and say in embarrassed
-tones:</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you! I shall try to be worthy of your
-good opinion hereafter!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>It was over at last, and the bride slipped from
-his side to prepare for the journey. He looked hastily
-around, feeling that his very first opportunity
-had come for making an escape. If an open window
-had presented itself, he would have vaulted through,
-trusting to luck and his heels to get away, but there
-was no window, and every door was blocked by staring,
-admiring, smirking people. He bethought himself
-of the fire-escape where waited his hat and coat,
-and wondered if he could find it.</p>
-
-<p>With smiling apologies, he broke away from
-those around him, murmuring something about being
-needed, and worked his way firmly but steadily
-toward the stairs and thence to the back halls. Coming
-at last upon an open window, he slipped through,
-his heart beating wildly. He thought for a second
-that he was there ahead of the others; but a dark
-form loomed ahead and he perceived some one coming
-up from outside. Another second, and he saw
-it was his newly acquired brother-in-law.</p>
-
-<p>“Say, this is great!” was his greeting. “How
-did you manage to find your way up alone? I was
-just coming down after you. I wanted to leave you
-there till the last minute so no one would suspect,
-but now you are here we can hustle off at once.
-I just took Mother and Celia down. It was pretty
-stiff for Mother to climb down, for she was a little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>
-bit afraid, but she was game all right, and she was so
-pleased to go. They’re waiting for us down there
-in the court. Here, let me help you with your overcoat.
-Now I’ll pull down this window, so no one
-will suspect us and follow. That’s all right now,
-come on! You go ahead. Just hold on to the railing
-and go slow. I’ll keep close to you. I know
-the way in my sleep. I’ve played fire here many a
-year, and could climb down in my sleep.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon found himself wishing that this delightful
-brother-in-law were really his. There was evidently
-to be no opportunity of escape here. He
-meditated making a dash and getting away in the
-dark when they should reach the foot of the stairs;
-much as he hated to leave that way, he felt he must
-do so if there was any chance for him at all; but
-when they reached the ground he saw that was hopeless.
-The car that was to take them to the station
-was drawn up close to the spot, and the chauffeur
-stood beside it.</p>
-
-<p>“Your mother says fer you to hurry, Mister
-Jefferson,” he called in a sepulchral tone. “They’re
-coming out around the block to watch. Get in as
-quick as you can.”</p>
-
-<p>The burly chauffeur stood below Gordon, helped
-him to alight on his feet from the fire-escape, and
-hustled him into the darkness of the conveyance.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>They were very quiet until they had left the
-dark court and were speeding away down the avenue.
-Then the bride’s mother laid two gentle hands upon
-Gordon’s, leaning across from her seat to do so,
-and said:</p>
-
-<p>“My son, I shall never forget this of you, never!
-It was dear of you to give me this last few minutes
-with my darling!”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon, deeply touched and much put to it for
-words, mumbled something about being very glad
-to have her, and Jefferson relieved the situation by
-pouring forth a volume of information and questions,
-fortunately not pausing long enough to have
-the latter answered. The bride sat with one hand
-clasped in her mother’s, and said not a word. Gordon
-was haunted by the thought of tears in her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>There was little opportunity for thinking, but
-Gordon made a hasty plan. He decided to get his
-party all out to the train and then remember his suit-case,
-which he had left checked in the station. Jefferson
-would probably insist upon going for it but
-he would insist more strenuously that the brother
-and sister would want to have this last minute together.
-Then he could get away in the crowd and
-disappear, coming later for his suit-case perhaps,
-or sending a porter from his own train for it. The
-only drawback to this arrangement was that it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>
-seemed a dishonorable way to leave these people
-who would in the nature of things be left in a most
-trying position by his disappearance, especially the
-sad little bride. But it could not be helped, and his
-staying would only complicate things still further,
-for he would have to explain who he was, and that
-was practically impossible on account of his commission.
-It would not do to run risks with himself
-until his mission was accomplished and his message
-delivered. After that he could confess and make
-whatever reparation a man in his strange position
-could render.</p>
-
-<p>The plan worked very well. The brother of
-course eagerly urged that he be allowed to go back
-for the suit-case, but Gordon, with well-feigned
-thoughtfulness, said in a low tone:</p>
-
-<p>“Your sister will want you for a minute all to
-herself.”</p>
-
-<p>A tender look came into the boy’s eyes, and he
-turned back smiling to the stateroom where his
-mother and sister were having a wordless farewell.
-Gordon jumped from the train and sprinted down
-the platform, feeling meaner than he ever remembered
-to have felt in his whole life, and with a
-strange heaviness about his heart. He forgot for
-the moment that there was need for him to be on
-his guard against possible detectives sent by Mr.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>
-Holman. Even the importance of the message he
-carried seemed to weigh less, now that he was free.
-His feet had a strange unwillingness to hurry, and
-without a constant pressure of the will would have
-lagged in spite of him. His heart wanted to let
-suit-case and commission and everything else go to
-the winds and take him back to the stateroom where
-he had left his sorrowful bride of an hour. She
-was not his, and he might not go, but he knew that
-he would never be the same hereafter. He would
-always be wondering where she was, wishing he
-could have saved her from whatever troubled her;
-wishing she were his bride, and not another’s.</p>
-
-<p>He passed back through the station gate, and a
-man in evening clothes eyed him sharply. He
-fancied he saw a resemblance to one of the men
-at the Holman dinner-table, but he dared not look
-again lest a glance should cost him recognition. He
-wondered blindly which way he should take, and if
-it would be safe to risk going at once to the checking
-window, or whether he ought to go in hiding until
-he was sure young Jefferson would no longer look
-for him. Then a hand touched his shoulder and a
-voice that was strangely welcome shouted:</p>
-
-<p>“This way, George! The checking place is over
-to the right!”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>He turned and there stood Jefferson, smiling
-and panting:</p>
-
-<p>“You see, the little mother had something to
-say to Celia alone, so I saw I was <i>de trop</i>, and
-thought I better come with you,” he declared as soon
-as he could get his breath.</p>
-
-<p>“Gee, but you can run!” added the panting
-youth. “What’s the hurry? It’s ten whole minutes
-before the train leaves. I couldn’t waste all that
-time kicking my heels on the platform, when I
-might be enjoying my new brother-in-law’s company.
-I say, are you really going to live permanently
-in Chicago? I do wish you’d decide to come
-back to New York. Mother’ll miss Celia no end.
-I don’t know how she’s going to stand it.”</p>
-
-<p>Walking airily by Gordon’s side, he talked, apparently
-not noticing the sudden start and look of
-mingled anxiety and relief that overspread his
-brother-in-law’s countenance. Then another man
-walked by them and turning looked in their faces.
-Gordon was sure this was the thick-set man from
-Holman’s. He was eying Gordon keenly. Suddenly
-all other questions stepped into the background, and
-the only immediate matter that concerned him was
-his message, to get it safely to its destination. With
-real relief he saw that this had been his greatest
-concern all the time, underneath all hindrances, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>
-that there had not been at any moment any escape
-from the crowding circumstances other than that he
-had taken, step by step. If he had been beset by
-thieves and blackguards, and thrown into prison for
-a time he would not have felt shame at the delay, for
-those things he could not help. He saw with new
-illumination that there was no more shame to him
-from these trivial and peculiar circumstances with
-which he had been hemmed in since his start to New
-York than if he had been checked by any more tragic
-obstacles. His only real misgiving was about his
-marriage. Somehow it seemed his fault, and he
-felt there ought to be some way to confess his part
-at once—but how—without putting his message in
-jeopardy—for no one would believe unless they
-knew all.</p>
-
-<p>But the time of danger was at hand, he plainly
-saw. The man whom he dared not look closely at
-had turned again and was walking parallel to them,
-glancing now and again keenly in their direction.
-He was watching Gordon furtively; not a motion
-escaped him.</p>
-
-<p>There was a moment’s delay at the checking
-counter while the attendant searched for the suit-case,
-and Gordon was convinced that the man had
-stopped a few steps away merely for the purpose
-of watching him.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>He dared not look around or notice the man,
-but he was sure he followed them back to the train.
-He felt his presence as clearly as if he had been
-able to see through the back of his head.</p>
-
-<p>But Gordon was cool and collected now. It was
-as if the experiences of the last two hours, with their
-embarrassing predicaments, had been wiped off the
-calendar, and he were back at the moment when he
-left the Holman house. He knew as well as if he
-had watched them follow him that they had discovered
-his—theft—treachery—whatever it ought to
-be called—and he was being searched for; and because
-of what was at stake those men would track
-him to death if they could. But he knew also that
-his disguise and his companion were for the moment
-puzzling this sleuth-hound.</p>
-
-<p>This was probably not the only watcher about
-the station. There were detectives, too, perhaps,
-hired hastily, and all too ready to seize a suspect.</p>
-
-<p>He marvelled that he could walk so deliberately,
-swinging his suit-case in his gloved hand at so
-momentous a time. He smiled and talked easily
-with the pleasant fellow who walked by his side,
-and answered his questions with very little idea of
-what he was saying; making promises which his
-heart would like to keep, but which he now saw no
-way of making good.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>Thus they entered the train and came to the car
-where the bride and her mother waited. There were
-tears on the face of the girl, and she turned to the
-window to hide them. Gordon’s eyes followed her
-wistfully, and down through the double glass, unnoticed
-by her absent gaze, he saw the face of the
-man who had followed them, sharply watching him.</p>
-
-<p>Realizing that his hat was a partial disguise, he
-kept it on in spite of the presence of the ladies.
-The color rose in his cheeks that he had to seem so
-discourteous, but, to cover his embarrassment, he
-insisted that he be allowed to take the elder lady to
-the platform, as it really was almost time for the
-train to start, and so he went deliberately out to act
-the part of bridegroom in the face of his recognized
-foe.</p>
-
-<p>The mother and Gordon stood for a moment on
-the vestibule platform, while Jefferson bade his sister
-good-by and tried to soothe her distress at parting
-from her mother.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s all right, Celie, indeed he is,” said the
-young fellow caressingly, laying his hand upon his
-sister’s bowed head. “He’s going to be awfully
-good to you; he cares a lot for you, and he’s promised
-to do all sorts of nice things. He says he’ll
-bring you back soon, and he would never stand in
-the way of your being with us a lot. He did indeed!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>
-What do you think of that? Isn’t it quite different
-from what you thought he would say? He doesn’t
-seem to think he’s got to spend the rest of his days
-in Chicago either. He says there might something
-turn up that would make it possible for him to
-change all his plans. Isn’t that great?”</p>
-
-<p>Celia tried to look up and smile through her
-tears, while the man outside studied the situation
-a moment in perplexity and then strolled slowly back
-to watch Gordon and the elder woman.</p>
-
-<p>“You will be good to my little girl,” he heard
-the woman’s voice pleading. “She has always been
-guarded, and she will miss us all, even though she
-has you.” The voice went through Gordon like a
-knife. To stand much more of this and not denounce
-himself for a blackguard would be impossible.
-Neither could he keep his hat on in the presence
-of this wonderful motherhood, a motherhood
-that appealed to him all the more that he had never
-known a mother of his own, and had always longed
-for one.</p>
-
-<p>He put up his hand and lifted his hat slightly,
-guarding as much as possible his own face from
-the view of the man on the station platform, who
-was still walking deliberately, considerately, up and
-down, often passing near enough to hear what they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>
-were saying. In this reverent attitude, Gordon
-said, as though he were uttering a sacred vow:</p>
-
-<p>“I will guard her as if she were—as if I were—as
-if I were—<i>you</i>”—then he paused a moment and
-added solemnly, tenderly—“Mother!”</p>
-
-<p>He wondered if it were not desecration to utter
-such words when all the time he was utterly unable
-to perform them in the way in which the mother
-meant. “Impostor!” was the word which rang in
-his ears now. The clamor about being hindered had
-ceased, for he was doing his best, and not letting
-even a woman’s happiness stand in the way of his
-duty.</p>
-
-<p>Yet his heart had dictated the words he had
-spoken, while his mind and judgment were busy
-with his perilous position. He could not gainsay
-his heart, for he felt that in every way he could
-he would guard and care for the girl who was to be
-in his keeping at least for a few minutes until he
-could contrive some way to get her back to her
-friends without him.</p>
-
-<p>The whistle of the train was sounding now, and
-the brakemen were shouting, “All aboard!”</p>
-
-<p>He helped the frail little elderly woman down the
-steps, and she reached up her face to kiss him. He
-bent and took the caress, the first time that a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>
-woman’s lips had touched his face since he was a
-little child.</p>
-
-<p>“Mother, I will not let anything harm her,”
-he whispered, and she said:</p>
-
-<p>“My boy, I can trust you!”</p>
-
-<p>Then he put her into the care of her strong
-young son, swung upon the train as the wheels
-began to move, and hurried back to the bride. On
-the platform, walking beside the train, he still saw
-the man. Going to the weeping girl, Gordon stooped
-over her gently, touched her on the shoulder, and
-drew the window shade down. The last face he
-saw outside was the face of the baffled man, who
-was turning back, but what for? Was he going
-to report to others, and would there perhaps be another
-stop before they left the city, where officers
-or detectives might board the train? He ought to
-be ready to get off and run for his life if there was.
-There seemed no way but to fee the porter to look
-after his companion, and leave her, despicable as
-it seemed! Yet his soul of honor told him he could
-never do that, no matter what was at stake.</p>
-
-<p>Then, without warning a new situation was
-thrust upon him. The bride, who had been standing
-with bowed head and with her handkerchief up
-to her eyes, just as her brother had left her, tottered
-and fell into his arms, limp and white. Instantly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>
-all his senses were called into action, and he forgot
-the man on the platform, forgot the possible next
-stop in the city, and the explanation he had been
-about to make to the girl; forgot even the importance
-of his mission, and the fact that the train he
-was on was headed toward Chicago, instead of
-Washington; forgot everything but the fact that the
-loveliest girl he had ever seen, with the saddest look
-a human face might wear, was lying apparently lifeless
-in his arms.</p>
-
-<p>Outside the window the man had turned back
-and was now running excitedly along with the train
-trying to see into the window; and down the platform,
-not ten yards behind, came a frantic man with
-English-looking clothes, a heavy mustache and
-goatee, shaggy eyebrows, and a sensual face, striding
-angrily along as fast as his heavy body would
-carry him.</p>
-
-<p>But Gordon saw none of them.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Five</span> hours before, the man who was hurling
-himself furiously after the rapidly retreating train
-had driven calmly through the city, from the pier of
-the White Star Line to the apartment of a man
-whom he had met abroad, and who had offered him
-the use of it during his absence. The rooms were
-in the fourth story of a fine apartment house. The
-returning exile noted with satisfaction the irreproachable
-neighborhood, as he slowly descended
-from the carriage, paid his fee, and entered the door,
-to present his letter of introduction to the janitor
-in charge.</p>
-
-<p>His first act was to open the steamer trunk
-which he had brought with him in the cab, and take
-therefrom his wedding garments. These he carefully
-arranged on folding hangers and hung in the
-closet, which was otherwise empty save for a few
-boxes piled on the high shelf.</p>
-
-<p>Then he hastened to the telephone and communicated
-with his best man, Jefferson Hathaway;
-told him the boat was late arriving at the dock, but
-that he was here at last; gave him a few directions
-concerning errands he would like to have done, and
-agreed to be at the church a half-hour earlier than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>
-the time set for the ceremony, to be shown just
-what arrangements had been made. He was told
-that his bride was feeling very tired and was resting,
-and agreed that it would be as well not to disturb
-her; they would have time enough to talk afterwards;
-there really wasn’t anything to say but what
-he had already written. And he would have about
-all he could do to get there on time as it was. He
-asked if Jefferson had called for the ring he had
-ordered and if the carriage would be sent for him in
-time and then without formalities closed the interview.
-He and Jefferson were not exactly fond of
-one another, though Jefferson was the beloved
-brother of his bride-to-be.</p>
-
-<p>He hung up the receiver and rang for a brandy
-and soda to brace himself for the coming ordeal
-which was to bind to him a woman whom for years
-he had been trying to get in his power and whom
-he might have loved if she had not dared to scorn
-him for the evil that she knew was in him. At
-last he had found a way to subdue her and bring
-her with her ample fortune to his feet and he felt
-the exultation of the conqueror as he went about his
-preparations for the evening.</p>
-
-<p>He made a smug and leisurely toilet, with a
-smile of satisfaction upon his flabby face. He was
-naturally a selfish person and had always known how<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>
-to make other people attend to all bothersome details
-for him while he enjoyed himself. He was
-quite comfortable and self-complacent as he posed
-a moment before the mirror to smooth his mustache
-and note how well he was looking. Then he went
-to the closet for his coat.</p>
-
-<p>It was most peculiar, the way it happened, but
-somehow, as he stepped into that closet to take down
-his coat, which hung at the back where the space
-was widest, the opening at the wrist of his shirt-sleeve
-caught for just an instant in the little knob
-of the closet latch. The gold button which held
-the cuff to the wristband slipped its hold, and the
-man was free almost at once, but the angry twitch
-he had made at the slight detention had given the
-door an impetus which set it silently moving on its
-hinges. (It was characteristic of George Hayne
-that he was always impatient of the slightest detention.)
-He had scarcely put his hand upon his wedding
-coat when a soft steel click, followed by utter
-darkness, warned him that his impatience had entrapped
-him. He put out his hand and pushed at the
-door, but the catch had settled into place. It was a
-very strong, neat little catch, and it did its work well.
-The man was a prisoner.</p>
-
-<p>At first he was only annoyed, and gave the door
-an angry kick or two, as if of course it would presently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>
-release him meekly; but then he bethought
-him of his polished wedding shoes, and desisted.
-He tried to find a knob and shake the door, but the
-only knob was the tiny brass one on the outside of
-the catch, and you cannot shake a plain surface
-reared up before you. Then he set his massive,
-flabby shoulder against the door and pressed with
-all his might, till his bulky linen shirt front creaked
-with dismay, and his wedding collar wilted limply.
-But the door stood like adamant. It was massive,
-like the man, but it was not flabby. The wood of
-which it was composed had spent its early life in the
-open air, drinking only the wine of sunshine and
-sparkling air, wet with the dews of heaven, and
-exercising against the north blast. It was nothing
-for it to hold out against this pillow of a man, who
-had been nurtured in the dissipation and folly of
-a great city. The door held its own, and if doors
-do such things, the face of it must have laughed to
-the silent room; and who knows but the room
-winked back? It would be but natural that a room
-should resent a new occupant in the absence of a
-beloved owner.</p>
-
-<p>He was there, safe and fast, in the still dark,
-with plenty of time for reflection. And there were
-things in his life that called for his reflection. They
-had never had him at an advantage before.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>In due course of time, having exhausted his
-breath and strength in fruitless pushing, and his
-vocabulary in foolish curses, he lifted up his voice
-and roared. No other word would quite describe
-the sound that issued from his mighty throat. But
-the city roared placidly below him, and no one
-minded him in the least.</p>
-
-<p>He sacrificed the shiny toes of the shoes and
-added resounding kicks on the door to the general
-hubbub. He changed the roar to a bellow like a
-mad bull, but still the silence that succeeded it was
-as deep and monotonous as ever. He tried going
-to the back of the closet and hurling himself against
-the door, but he only hurt his soft muscles with the
-effort. Finally he sat down on the floor of the closet.</p>
-
-<p>Now, the janitor’s wife, who occupied an apartment
-somewhat overcrowded, had surreptitiously
-borrowed the use of this closet the week before, in
-order to hang therein her Sunday gown, whose front
-breadth was covered with grease-spots, thickly overlaid
-with French chalk. The French chalk had done
-its work and removed the grease-spots, and now
-lay thickly on the floor of the closet, but the imprisoned
-bridegroom did not know that, and he sat
-down quite naturally to rest from his unusual exertions,
-and to reflect on what could be done next.</p>
-
-<p>The immediate present passed rapidly in review.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>
-He could not afford more than ten minutes to get out
-of this hole. He ought to be on the way to the
-church at once. There was no knowing what nonsense
-Celia might get into her head if he delayed.
-He had known her since her childhood, and she had
-always scorned him. The hold he had upon her
-now was like a rope of sand, but only he knew that.
-If he could but knock that old door down! If he
-only hadn’t hung up his coat in the closet! If the
-man who built the house only hadn’t put such a fool
-catch on the door! When he got out he would take
-time to chop it off! If only he had a little more
-room, and a little more air! It was stifling! Great
-beads of perspiration went rolling down his hot
-forehead, and his wet collar made a cool band about
-his neck. He wondered if he had another clean collar
-of that particular style with him. If he <i>only</i>
-could get out of this accursed place! Where were
-all the people? Why was everything so still? Would
-they never come and let him out?</p>
-
-<p>He reflected that he had told the janitor he
-would occupy the room with his baggage for two
-or three weeks perhaps, but he expected to go away
-on a trip this very evening. The janitor would not
-think it strange if he did not appear. How would
-it be to stay here and die? Horrible thought!</p>
-
-<p>He jumped up from the floor and began his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>
-howlings and gyrations once more, but soon desisted,
-and sat down to be entertained by a panorama of
-his past life which is always unpleasantly in evidence
-at such times. Fine and clear in the darkness
-of the closet stood out the nicely laid scheme of
-deviltry by which he had contrived to be at last
-within reach of a coveted fortune.</p>
-
-<p>Occasionally would come the frantic thought
-that just through this little mishap of a foolish
-clothespress catch he might even yet lose it. The
-fraud and trickery by which he had an heiress in
-his power did not trouble him so much as the thought
-of losing her—at least of losing the fortune. He
-must have that fortune, for he was deep in debt,
-and—but then he would refuse to think, and get up
-to batter at his prison door again.</p>
-
-<p>Four hours his prison walls enclosed him, with
-inky blackness all around save for a faint glimmer
-of light, which marked the well-fitted base of the
-door as the night outside drew on. He had lighted
-the gas when he began dressing, for the room had
-already been filled with shadows, and now, it began
-to seem as if that streak of flickering gas light was
-the only thing that saved him from losing his mind.</p>
-
-<p>Somewhere from out of the dim shadows a face
-evolved itself and gazed at him, a haggard face with
-piercing hollow eyes and despair written upon it.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>
-It reproached him with a sin he thought long-forgotten.
-He shrank back in horror and the cold perspiration
-stood out upon his forehead, for the eyes
-were the eyes of the man whose name he had forged
-upon a note involving trust money fifteen years before;
-and the man, a quiet, kindly, unsuspecting
-creature had suffered the penalty in a prison cell until
-his death some five years ago.</p>
-
-<p>Sometimes at night in the first years after his
-crime, that face had haunted him, appearing at odd
-intervals when he was plotting some particularly
-shady means of adding to his income, until he had
-resolved to turn over a new leaf, and actually gave
-up one or two schemes as being too unscrupulous
-to be indulged in, thus acquiring a comforting feeling
-of being virtuous. But it was long since the
-face had come. He had settled it in his mind that
-the forgery was merely a patch of wild oats which
-he had sown in his youth, something to be regretted
-but not too severely blamed for, and thus forgiving
-himself he had grown to feel that it was more the
-world’s fault for not giving him what he wanted
-than his own for putting a harmless old man in
-prison. Of the shame that had killed the old man he
-knew nothing, nor could have understood. The
-actual punishment itself was all that appealed to
-him. He was ever one that had to be taught with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>
-the lash, and then only kept straight while it was in
-sight.</p>
-
-<p>But the face was very near and vivid here in the
-thick darkness. It was like a cell, this closet, bare,
-cold, black. The eyes in the gloom seemed to pierce
-him with the thought: “This is what you made me
-suffer. It is your turn now. <span class="smcap">It is your turn now!</span>”
-Nearer and nearer they came looking into his own,
-until they saw down into his very soul, his little sinful
-soul, and drew back appalled at the littleness
-and meanness of what they saw.</p>
-
-<p>Then for the first time in his whole selfish life
-George Hayne knew any shame, for the eyes read
-forth to him all that they had seen, and how it looked
-to them; and beside the tale they told the eyes were
-clean of sin and almost glad in spite of suffering
-wrongfully.</p>
-
-<p>Closer and thicker grew the air of the small
-closet; fiercer grew the rage and shame and horror
-of the man incarcerated.</p>
-
-<p>Now, from out the shadows there looked other
-eyes, eyes that had never haunted him before; eyes
-of victims to whom he had never cast a half a
-thought. Eyes of men and women he had robbed
-by his artful, gentlemanly craft; eyes of innocent
-girls whose wrecked lives had contributed to his
-selfish scheme of living; even the great reproachful<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>
-eyes of little children who had looked to him for pity
-and found none. Last, above them all were the eyes
-of the lovely girl he was to have married.</p>
-
-<p>He had always loved Celia Hathaway more
-than he could have loved anyone or anything else
-besides himself, and it had eaten into his very being
-that he never could make her bow to him; not even
-by torture could he bring her to her knees. Stung
-by the years of her scorn he had stooped lower and
-lower in his methods of dealing with her until he
-had come at last to employ the tools of slow torture
-to her soul that he might bring low her pride and
-put her fortune and her scornful self within his
-power. The strength with which she had withheld
-him until the time of her surrender had turned his
-selfish love into a hate with contemplations of
-revenge.</p>
-
-<p>But now her eyes glowed scornfully, wreathed
-round with bridal white, and seemed to taunt him
-with his foolish defeat at this the last minute before
-the final triumph.</p>
-
-<p>Undoubtedly the brandy he had taken had gone
-to his head. Was he going mad that he could not
-get away from all these terrible eyes?</p>
-
-<p>He felt sure he was dying when at last the janitor
-came up to the fourth floor on his round of inspection,
-noticed the light flaring from the transom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>
-over the door occupied by the stranger who had
-said he was going to leave on a trip almost immediately,
-and went in to investigate. The eyes vanished
-at his step. The man in the closet lost no
-time in making his presence known, and the janitor,
-cautiously, and with great deliberation made careful
-investigation of the cause and reason for this disturbance
-and finally let him out, after having received
-promise of reward which never materialized.</p>
-
-<p>The stranger flew to the telephone in frantic
-haste, called up the house of his affianced bride,
-shouting wildly at the operator for all undue delays,
-and when finally he succeeded in getting some one
-to the ’phone it was only to be told that neither Mrs.
-Hathaway nor her son were there. Were they at
-the church? “Oh, no,” the servant answered, “they
-came back from the church long ago. There is a
-wedding in the house, and a great many people.
-They are making so much noise I can’t hear. Speak
-louder please!”</p>
-
-<p>He shouted and raved at the servant, asking
-futile questions and demanding information, but
-the louder he raved the less the servant understood
-and finally he hung up the receiver and dashed about
-the room like an insane creature, tearing off his
-wilted collar, grabbing at another, jerking on his
-fine coat, searching vainly for his cuffs, snatching<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>
-his hat and overcoat, and making off down the
-stairs; breathlessly, regardless of the demand of the
-janitor for the fee of freedom he had been promised.</p>
-
-<p>Out in the street he rushed hither and thither
-blindly in search of some conveyance, found a taxicab
-at last, and, plunging in, ordered it to go at
-once to the Hathaway address.</p>
-
-<p>Arrived there, he presented an enlivening spectacle
-to the guests, who were still making merry.
-His trousers were covered with French chalk, his
-collar had slipped from its confining button in front
-and curved gracefully about one fat cheek, his high
-hat was a crush indeed, having been rammed down
-to his head in his excitement. He talked so fast
-and so loud that they thought he was crazy and
-tried to put him out, but he shook his fist angrily
-in the face of the footman and demanded to know
-where Miss Hathaway was? When they told him
-she was married and gone, he turned livid with
-wrath and told them that that was impossible, as
-he was the bridegroom.</p>
-
-<p>By this time the guests had gathered in curious
-groups in the hall and on the stairs, listening, and
-when he claimed to be the bridegroom they shouted
-with laughter, thinking this must be some practical
-joke or else that the man was insane. But one older<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>
-gentleman, a friend of the family, stepped up to the
-excited visitor and said in a quieting voice:</p>
-
-<p>“My friend, you have made a mistake! Miss
-Hathaway has this evening been married to Mr.
-George Hayne, just arrived from abroad, and they
-are at this moment on their way to take the train.
-You have come too late to see her, or else you have
-the wrong address, and are speaking of some other
-Miss Hathaway. That is very likely the explanation.”</p>
-
-<p>George looked around on the company with
-helpless rage, then rushed to his taxicab and gave
-the order for the station.</p>
-
-<p>Arriving at the station, he saw it was within half
-a minute of the departure of the Chicago train, and
-none knew better than he what time that train had
-been going to depart. Had he not given minute
-directions regarding the arrangements to his future
-brother-in-law? What did it all mean anyway?
-Had Celia managed somehow to carry out the wedding
-without him to hide her mortification at his
-non-appearance? Or had she run away? He was
-too excited to use his reason. He could merely urge
-his heavy bulk onward toward the fast fleeting train;
-and dashed up the platform, overcoat streaming
-from his arm, coat-tails flying, hat crushed down
-upon his head, his fat, bechalked legs rumbling heavily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>
-after him. He passed Jefferson and his mother;
-watching tearfully, lingeringly, the retreating train.
-Jefferson laughed at the funny spectacle, but the
-mother did not notice and only said absently: “I
-think he’ll be good to her, don’t you, Jeff? He has
-nice eyes. I don’t remember that his eyes used to
-seem so pleasant, and so—deferential.” Then they
-turned to go back to their car, and the train moved
-faster and faster out of the station. It would presently
-rush away out into the night, leaving the two
-pursuers to face each other, baffled.</p>
-
-<p>Both realized this at the same instant and the
-short, thick-set man with sudden decision turned
-again and plunging along with the train caught at
-the rail and swung himself with dangerous precipitation
-to the last platform of the last car with a
-half-frightened triumph. Looking back he saw the
-other man with a frantic effort sprint forward,
-trying to do the same thing, and failing in the
-attempt, sprawl flat on the platform, to the intense
-amusement of a couple of trainmen standing near.</p>
-
-<p>George Hayne, having thus come to a full stop
-in his headlong career, lay prostrate for a moment,
-stunned and shaken; then gathered himself up slowly
-and stood gazing after the departing train. After
-all, if he had caught it what could he have done? It
-was incredible that Celia could have got herself married<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>
-and gone on her wedding trip without him. If
-she had eloped with some one else and they were on
-that train what could he have done? Kill the bridegroom
-and force the bride to return with him and
-be married over again? Yes, but that might have
-been a trifle awkward after all, and he had enough
-awkward situations to his account already. Besides,
-it wasn’t in the least likely that Celia was married
-yet. Those people at the house had been fooled
-somehow, and she had run away. Perhaps her
-mother and brother were gone with her. The same
-threats that had made her bend to him once should
-follow her wherever she had gone. She would
-marry him yet and pay for this folly a hundred fold.
-He lifted a shaking hand of execration toward the
-train which by this time was vanishing into the dark
-opening at the end of the station, where signal lights
-like red berries festooned themselves in an arch
-against the blackness, and the lights of the last car
-paled and vanished like a forgotten dream.</p>
-
-<p>Then he turned and hobbled slowly back to the
-gates regardless of the merriment he was arousing
-in the genial trainmen; for he was spent and bruised,
-and his appearance was anything but dignified. No
-member of the wedding company had they seen him
-at this juncture would have recognized in him any
-resemblance to the handsome gentleman who had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>
-played his part in the wedding ceremony. No one
-would have thought it possible that he could be
-Celia Hathaway’s bridegroom.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly back to the gate he crept, haggard, dishevelled,
-crestfallen; his hair in its several isolated
-locks downfallen over his forehead, his collar wilted,
-his clothes smeared with chalk and dust, his overcoat
-dragging forlornly behind him. He was trying
-to decide what to do next, and realizing the torment
-of a perpetual thirst, when a hand was laid suddenly
-upon him and a voice that somehow had a familiar
-twang, said: “You will come with me, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>He looked up and there before him in the flesh
-were the eyes of the man who had haunted him for
-years, the very eyes grown younger, and filled with
-more than reproach. They were piercing him with
-the keenness of retribution. They said, as plainly as
-those eyes in the closet had spoken but a brief hour
-before: “Your time is over. My time has come.
-You have sinned. You shall suffer. Come now
-and meet your reward.”</p>
-
-<p>He started back in horror. His hands trembled
-and his brain reeled. He wished for another cocktail
-to help him to meet this most extraordinary
-emergency. Surely, something had happened to his
-nerves that he was seeing these eyes in reality, and
-hearing the voice, that old man’s voice made young,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>
-bidding him come with him. It could not be, of
-course. He was unnerved with all he had been
-through. The man had mistaken him for some one—or
-perhaps it was not a man after all. He glanced
-quickly around to see if others saw him, and at once
-became aware that a crowd was collecting about
-them.</p>
-
-<p>The man with the strange eyes and the familiar
-voice was dressed in plain clothes, but he seemed to
-have full assurance that he was a real live man and
-had a right to dictate. George Hayne could not
-shake away his grasp. There was a determination
-about it that struck terror to his soul, and he had
-a weak desire to scream and hide his eyes. Could
-he be coming down with delirium tremens? That
-brandy must have been unusually strong to have
-lasted so long in its effects. Then he made a weak
-effort to speak, but his voice sounded small and
-frightened. The eyes took his assurance from him.</p>
-
-<p>“Who are you?” he asked, and meant to add,
-“What right have <i>you</i> to dictate to <i>me</i>?” but the
-words died away in his throat, for the plainclothes
-man had opened his coat and disclosed a badge that
-shone with a sinister light straight into his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I am Norman Brand,” answered the voice,
-“and I want you for what you did to my father.
-It is time you paid your debt. You were the cause<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>
-of his humiliation and death. I have been watching
-for you for years. I saw the notice of your wedding
-in the paper and was tracking you. It was for this
-I entered the service. Come with me.”</p>
-
-<p>With a cry of horror George Hayne wrenched
-away from his captor and turned to flee, but instantly
-three revolvers were levelled at him, and
-he found that two policemen in brass buttons were
-stationed behind him, and the crowd closed in about
-him. Wherever he turned it was to look into the
-barrel of a gun, and there was no escape in any
-direction.</p>
-
-<p>They led him away to the patrol wagon, the erstwhile
-bridegroom, and in place of the immaculate
-linen he had searched so frantically for in his apartment
-they put upon his wrists cuffs of iron. They
-put him in a cell and left him with eyes of the old
-man for company and the haunting likeness of his
-son’s voice filling him with frenzy. The unquenchable
-thirst came upon him and he begged for brandy
-and soda, but none came to slake his thirst, for he
-had crossed the great gulf and justice at last had him
-in her grasp.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Meantime</span> the man on the steps of the last car
-of the Chicago Limited was having his doubts about
-whether he ought to have boarded that train. He
-realized that the fat traveller who was hurling himself
-after the train had stirred in him a sudden
-impulse which had been only half formed before
-and he had obeyed it. Perhaps he was following a
-wrong scent and would lose the reward which he
-knew was his if he brought the thief of the code-writing,
-dead or alive, to his employer. He was
-half inclined to jump off again now before it was
-too late; but looking down he saw they were already
-speeding over a network of tracks, and trains were
-flying by in every direction. By the time they were
-out of this the speed would be too great for him to
-attempt a jump. It was even now risky, and he
-was heavy for athletics. He must do it at once if
-he did it at all.</p>
-
-<p>He looked ahead tentatively to see if the track
-on which he must jump was clear, and the great eye
-of an engine stabbed him in the face, as it bore
-down upon him. The next instant it swept by, its
-hot breath fanning his cheek, and he drew back
-shuddering involuntarily. It was of no use. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>
-could not jump here. Perhaps they would slow up
-or stop, and anyway, should he jump or stay on
-board?</p>
-
-<p>He sat down on the upper step the better to get
-the situation in hand. Perhaps in a minute more
-the way would be clearer to jump off if he decided
-not to go on. Thus he vacillated. It was rather
-unlike him not to know his own mind.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed as if there must be something here to
-follow, and yet, perhaps he was mistaken. He had
-been the first man of the company at the front door
-after Mr. Holman turned the paper over, and
-they all had noticed the absence of the red mark.
-It had been simultaneous with the clicking of
-the door-latch and he had covered the ground
-from his seat to the door sooner than anyone
-else. He could swear he had seen the man get into
-the cab that stood almost in front of the house.
-He had lost no time in getting into his own car
-which was detailed for such an emergency, and in
-signalling the officer on a motor-cycle who was also
-ready for a quick call. The carriage had barely
-turned the corner when they followed, there was
-no other of the kind in sight either way but that,
-and he had followed it closely. It must have been
-the right carriage. And yet, when the man got
-out at the church he was changed, much changed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>
-in appearance, so that he had looked twice into the
-empty carriage to make sure that the man for whom
-he searched was not still in there hiding. Then he
-had followed him into the church and seen him married;
-stood close at hand when he put his bride into
-a big car, and he had followed the car to the house
-where the reception was held; even mingling with
-the guests and watching until the bridal couple left
-for the train. He had stood in the alley in the
-shadow, the only one of the guests who had found
-how the bride was really going away, and again he
-had followed to the station.</p>
-
-<p>He had walked close enough to the bridegroom
-in the station to be almost sure that mustache and
-those heavy eyebrows were false; and yet he could
-not make it out. How could it be possible that a
-man who was going to be married in a great church
-full of fashionable people would so dare to flirt with
-chance as to accept an invitation to a dinner where
-he might not be able to get away for hours? What
-would have happened if he had not got there in
-time? Was it in the least possible that these two
-men could be identical? Everything but the likeness
-and the fact that he had followed the man so
-closely pointed out the impossibility.</p>
-
-<p>The thick-set man was accustomed to trust his
-inner impressions thoroughly, and in this case his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>
-inner impression was that he must watch this peculiar
-bridegroom and be sure he was not the right
-man before he forever got away from him—and
-yet—and yet, he might be missing the right man by
-doing it. However, he had come so far, had risked
-a good deal already in following and in throwing
-himself on that fast moving train. He would stay
-a little longer and find out for sure. He would try
-and get a seat where he could watch him and in an
-hour he ought to be able to tell if he were really
-the man who had stolen the code-writing. If he
-could avoid the conductor for a time he would
-simply profess to have taken the wrong train by
-mistake and maybe could get put off somewhere near
-home, in case he discovered that he was barking
-up the wrong tree. He would stick to the train for
-a little yet, inasmuch as there seemed no safe way
-of getting off at present.</p>
-
-<p>Having decided so much, he gave one last glance
-toward the twinkling lights of the city hurrying past,
-and getting up sauntered into the train, keeping a
-weather eye out for the conductor. He meant to
-burn no bridges behind him. He was well provided
-with money for any kind of a trip and mileage books
-and passes. He knew where to send a telegram
-that would bring him instant assistance in case of
-need, and even now he knew the officer on the motor-cycle<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>
-had reported to his employer that he had
-boarded this train. There was really no immediate
-need for him to worry. It was big game he was
-after and one must take some risks in a case of that
-sort. Thus he entered the sleeper to make good the
-impression of his inner senses.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had never held anything so precious, so
-sweet and beautiful and frail-looking, in his arms.
-He had a feeling that he ought to lay her down, yet
-there was a longing to draw her closer to himself
-and shield her from everything that could trouble
-her.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb">
-
-<p>But she was not his—only a precious trust to be
-guarded and cared for as vigilantly as the message
-he carried hidden about his neck; she belonged to
-another, somewhere, and was a sacred trust until
-circumstances made it possible for him to return
-her to her rightful husband. Just what all this
-might mean to himself, to the woman in his arms,
-and to the man whom she was to have married,
-Gordon had not as yet had time to think. It was
-as if he had been watching a moving picture and
-suddenly a lot of circumstances had fallen in a
-heap and become all jumbled up together, the result
-of his own rash but unsuspecting steps, the way
-whole families have in moving pictures of falling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>
-through a sky-scraper from floor to floor, carrying
-furniture and inhabitants with them as they descend.</p>
-
-<p>He had not as yet been able to disentangle himself
-from the debris and find out what had been his
-fault and what he ought to do about it.</p>
-
-<p>He laid her gently on the couch of the drawing-room
-and opened the little door of the private
-dressing-room. There would be cold water in there.</p>
-
-<p>He knew very little about caring for sick people—he
-had always been well and strong himself—but
-cold water was what they used for people who
-had fainted, he was sure. He would not call in anyone
-to help, unless it was absolutely necessary. He
-pulled the door of the stateroom shut, and went after
-the water. As he passed the mirror, he started at
-the curious vision of himself. One false eyebrow
-had come loose and was hanging over his eye, and
-his goatee was crooked. Had it been so all the
-time? He snatched the eyebrow off, and then the
-other; but the mustache and goatee were more
-tightly affixed, and it was very painful to remove
-them. He glanced back, and the white, limp look
-of the girl on the couch frightened him. What was
-he about, to stop over his appearance when she might
-be dying, and as for pain—he tore the false hair
-roughly from him, and, stuffing it into his pocket,
-filled a glass with water and went back to the couch.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>
-His chin and upper lip smarted, but he did not notice
-it, nor know that the mark of the plaster was all
-about his face. He only knew that she lay there
-apparently lifeless before him, and he must bring
-the soul back into those dear eyes. It was strange,
-wonderful, how his feeling had grown for the girl
-whom he had never seen till three hours before.</p>
-
-<p>He held the glass to her white lips and tried
-to make her drink, then poured water on his handkerchief
-and awkwardly bathed her forehead. Some
-hairpins slipped loose and a great wealth of golden-brown
-hair fell across his knees as he half knelt beside
-her. One little hand drooped over the side of
-the couch and touched his. He started! It seemed
-so soft and cold and lifeless.</p>
-
-<p>He blamed himself that he had no remedies in
-his suit-case. Why had he never thought to carry
-something,—a simple restorative? Other people
-might need it though he did not. No man ought to
-travel without something for the saving of life in
-an emergency. He might have needed it himself
-even, in case of a railroad accident or something.</p>
-
-<p>He slipped his arm tenderly under her head and
-tried to raise it so that she could drink, but the
-white lips did not move nor attempt to swallow.</p>
-
-<p>Then a panic seized him. Suppose she was
-dying? Not until later, when he had quiet and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>
-opportunity for thought, did it occur to him what a
-terrible responsibility he had dared to take upon
-himself in letting her people leave her with him;
-what a fearful position he would have been in if she
-had really died. At the moment his whole thought
-was one of anguish at the idea of losing her; anxiety
-to save her precious life; and not for himself.</p>
-
-<p>Forgetting his own need of quiet and obscurity,
-he laid her gently back upon the couch again, and
-rushed from the stateroom out into the aisle of the
-sleeper. The conductor was just making his rounds
-and he hurried to him with a white face.</p>
-
-<p>“Is there a doctor on board, or have you any
-restoratives? There is a lady——” He hesitated
-and the color rolled freshly into his anxious face.
-“That is—my wife.” He spoke the word unwillingly,
-having at the instant of speaking realized that
-he must say this to protect her good name. It seemed
-like uttering a falsehood, or stealing another man’s
-property; and yet, technically, it was true, and for
-her sake at least he must acknowledge it.</p>
-
-<p>“My wife,” he began again more connectedly,
-“is ill—unconscious.”</p>
-
-<p>The conductor looked at him sharply. He had
-sized them up as a wedding party when they came
-down the platform toward the train. The young
-man’s blush confirmed his supposition.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>“I’ll see!” he said briefly. “Go back to her and
-I’ll bring some one.”</p>
-
-<p>It was just as Gordon turned back that the thick-set
-man entered the car from the other end and met
-him face to face, but Gordon was too distraught at
-that moment to notice him, for his mind was at rest
-about his pursuer as soon as the train started.</p>
-
-<p>Not so with the pursuer however. His keen little
-eyes took in the white, anxious face, the smear of
-sticking plaster about the mouth and eyebrows,
-and instantly knew his man. His instincts had not
-failed him after all.</p>
-
-<p>He put out a pair of brawny fists to catch at
-him, but a lurch of the train and Gordon’s swift
-stride out-purposed him, and by the time the little
-man had righted his footing Gordon was disappearing
-into the stateroom, and the conductor with another
-man was in the aisle behind him waiting to
-pass. He stepped back and watched. At least he
-had driven his prey to quarry and there was no possible
-escape now until the train stopped. He would
-watch that door as a cat watches a mouse, and perhaps
-be able to send a telegram for help before he
-made any move at all. It was as well that his impulse
-to take the man then and there had come to
-naught. What would the other passengers have
-thought of him? He must of course move cautiously.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>
-What a blunder he had almost made. It
-was no part of his purpose to make public his errand.
-The men who were behind him did not wish to be
-known, nor to have their business known.</p>
-
-<p>With narrowing eyes he watched the door of the
-stateroom as the conductor and doctor came and
-went. He gathered from a few questions asked
-by one of the passengers that there was some one
-sick, probably the lady he had seen faint as the
-train started. It occurred to him that this might
-be his opportunity, and when the conductor came
-out of the drawing-room the second time he inquired
-if any assistance was needed, and implied that
-doctoring was his profession, though it would be
-a sorry patient that had only his attention. However,
-if he had one accomplishment it was bluffing,
-and he never stopped at any profession that suited
-his needs.</p>
-
-<p>The conductor was annoyed at the interruptions
-that had already occurred and he answered him
-brusquely that they had all the help necessary and
-there wasn’t anything the matter anyway.</p>
-
-<p>There was nothing left for the man to do but
-wait.</p>
-
-<p>He subsided with his eye on the stateroom door,
-and later secured a berth in plain sight of that door,
-but gave no order to have it made up until every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>
-other passenger in the car was gone to what rest
-a sleeping-car provides. He kept his vigil well, but
-was rewarded with no sight of his prey that night,
-and at last with a sense of duty well done and the
-comfortable promise from the conductor that his
-deftly worded telegraphic message to Mr. Holman
-should be sent from a station they passed a little
-after midnight, he crept to his well-earned rest. He
-was not at home in a dress shirt and collar, being
-of the walks of life where a collar is mostly
-accounted superfluous, and he was glad to be relieved
-of it for a few hours. It had not yet occurred to
-him that his appearance in that evening suit would
-be a trifle out of place when morning came. It
-is doubtful if he had ever considered matters of
-dress. His profession was that of a human ferret
-of the lower order, and there were many things he
-did not know. It might have been the way he held
-his fork at dinner that had made Gordon decide that
-he was but a henchman of the others.</p>
-
-<p>Having put his mind and his body at rest he proceeded
-to sleep, and the train thundered on its way
-into the night.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon meanwhile had hurried back from his
-appeal to the conductor, and stood looking helplessly
-down at the delicate girl as she lay there so white
-and seemingly lifeless. Her pretty travelling gown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>
-set off the exquisite face finely; her glorious hair
-seemed to crown her. A handsome hat had fallen
-unheeded to the floor, and lay rolling back and
-forth in the aisle with the motion of the train. He
-picked it up reverently, as though it had been a
-part of her. His face in the few minutes had gone
-haggard.</p>
-
-<p>The conductor hurried in presently, followed by
-a grave elderly man with a professional air. He
-touched a practised finger to the limp wrist, looked
-closely into the face, and then taking a little bottle
-from a case he carried called for a glass.</p>
-
-<p>The liquid was poured between the closed lips,
-the white throat reluctantly swallowed it, the eyelids
-presently fluttered, a long breath that was scarcely
-more than a sigh hovered between the lips, and then
-the blue eyes opened.</p>
-
-<p>She looked about, bewildered, looking longest at
-Gordon, then closed her eyes wearily, as if she
-wished they had not brought her back, and lay still.</p>
-
-<p>The physician still knelt beside her, and Gordon,
-with time now to think, began to reflect on the
-possible consequences of his deeds. With anxious
-face, he stood watching, reflecting bitterly that he
-might not claim even a look of recognition from
-those sweet eyes, and wishing with all his heart that
-his marriage had been genuine. A passing memory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>
-of his morning ride to New York in company with
-Miss Bentley’s conjured vision brought wonder to
-his eyes. It all seemed so long ago, and so strange
-that he ever could have entertained for a moment
-the thought of marrying Julia. She was a good girl
-of course, fine and handsome and all that,—but—and
-here his eyes sought the sweet sad face on the
-couch, and his heart suffered in a real agony for
-the trouble he saw; and for the trouble he must
-yet give to her when he told her who he was, or
-rather who he was not; for he must tell her and that
-soon. It would not do to go on in her company—nor
-to Chicago! And yet, how was he possibly to
-leave her in this condition?</p>
-
-<p>But no revelations were to be given that night.</p>
-
-<p>The physician administered another draught, and
-ordered the porter to make up the berth immediately.
-Then with skilful hands and strong arms he laid the
-young girl in upon the pillows and made her comfortable,
-Gordon meanwhile standing awkwardly
-by with averted eyes and troubled mien. He would
-have liked to help, but he did not know how.</p>
-
-<p>“She’d better not be disturbed any more than is
-necessary to-night,” said the doctor, as he pulled
-the pretty cloth travelling gown smoothly down
-about the girl’s ankles and patted it with professional
-hands. “Don’t let her yield to any nonsense<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>
-about putting up her hair, or taking off that frock
-for fear she’ll rumple it. She needs to lie perfectly
-quiet. It’s a case of utter exhaustion, and I should
-say a long strain of some kind—anxiety, worry perhaps.”
-He looked keenly at the sheepish bridegroom.
-“Has she had any trouble?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon lifted honest eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m afraid so,” he answered contritely, as if it
-must have been his fault some way.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, don’t let her have any more,” said the
-elder man briskly. “She’s a very fragile bit of
-womanhood, young man, and you’ll have to handle
-her carefully or she’ll blow away. Make her <i>happy</i>,
-young man! People can’t have too much happiness
-in this world. It’s the best thing, after all, to keep
-them well. Don’t be afraid to give her plenty.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you!” said Gordon, fervently, wishing
-it were in his power to do what the physician
-ordered.</p>
-
-<p>The kindly physician, the assiduous porter, and
-the brusque but good-hearted conductor went away
-at last, and Gordon was left with his precious charge,
-who to all appearances was sleeping quietly. The
-light was turned low and the curtains of the berth
-were a little apart. He could see the dim outline of
-drapery about her, and one shadowy hand lying
-limp at the edge of the couch, in weary relaxation.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>Above her, in the upper berth, which he had told
-the porter not to make up, lay the great purple-black
-plumed hat, and a sheaf of lilies of the valley from
-her bouquet. It seemed all so strange for him to
-be there in their sacred presence.</p>
-
-<p>He locked the door, so that no one should disturb
-the sleeper, and went slowly into the little
-private dressing-room. For a full minute after he
-reached it, he stood looking into the mirror before
-him, looking at his own weary, soiled face, and wondering
-if he, Cyril Gordon, heretofore honored and
-self-respecting, had really done in the last twelve
-hours all the things which he was crediting himself
-with having done! And the question was, how had
-it happened? Had he taken leave of his senses, or
-had circumstances been too much for him? Had he
-lost the power of judging between right and wrong?
-Could he have helped any of the things that had
-come upon him? How could he have helped them?
-What ought he to have done? What ought he to
-do now? Was he a criminal beyond redemption?
-Had he spoiled the life of the sweet woman out there
-in her berth, or could he somehow make amends
-for what he had done? And was he as badly to
-blame for it all as he felt himself to be?</p>
-
-<p>After a minute he rallied, to realize that his face
-was dirty. He washed the marks of the adhesive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>
-plaster away, and then, not satisfied with the result,
-he brought his shaving things from his suit-case and
-shaved. Somehow, he felt more like himself after
-his toilet was completed, and he slipped back into
-the darkened drawing-room and stretched himself
-wearily on the couch, which, according to his directions,
-was not made up, but merely furnished with
-pillows and a blanket.</p>
-
-<p>The night settled into the noisy quiet of an express
-train, and each revolution of the wheels, as
-they whirled their way Chicagoward, resolved itself
-into the old refrain, “Don’t let anything hinder
-you! Don’t let anything hinder you!”</p>
-
-<p>He certainly was not taking the most direct
-route from New York to Washington, though it
-might eventually prove that the longest way round
-was the shortest way home, on account of its comparative
-safety.</p>
-
-<p>As he settled to the quiet of his couch, a number
-of things came more clearly to his vision. One
-was that they had safely passed the outskirts of
-New York without interference of any kind, and
-must by this time be speeding toward Albany, unless
-they were on a road that took them more directly
-West. He had not thought to look at the tickets
-for knowledge of his bearings, and the light was
-too dim for him to make out any monograms or letterings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>
-on inlaid wood panels or transoms, even if
-he had known enough about New York railroads
-to gain information from them. There was one
-thing certain: even if he had been mistaken about
-his supposed pursuers, by morning there would
-surely be some one searching for him. The duped
-Holman combination would stop at nothing when
-they discovered his theft of the paper, and he could
-not hope that so sharp-eyed a man as Mr. Holman
-had seemed to be would be long in discovering the
-absence of his private mark on the paper. Undoubtedly
-he knew it already. As for the frantic bridegroom,
-Gordon dreaded the thought of meeting him.
-It must be put off at any hazards until the message
-was safe with his chief, then, if he had to answer
-with his life for carrying off another man’s bride, he
-could at least feel that he left no duty to his government
-undone. It was plain that his present situation
-was a dangerous one from two points of view,
-for the bridegroom would have no difficulty in
-finding out what train he and the lady had taken;
-and he was satisfied that an emissary of Holman had
-more than a suspicion of his identity. The obvious
-thing to do was to get off that train at the first opportunity
-and get across country to another line of railroad.
-But how was that to be done with a sick
-lady on his hands? Of course he could leave her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>
-to herself. She probably had taken journeys before,
-and would know how to get back. She would
-at least be able to telegraph to her friends to come
-for her. He could leave her money and a note explaining
-his involuntary villainy, and her indignation
-with him would probably be a sufficient stimulant
-to keep her from dying of chagrin at her plight.
-But as from the first every nerve and fibre in him
-rejected this suggestion. It would be cowardly,
-unmanly, horrible! Undoubtedly it might be the
-wise thing to do from many standpoints, but—<i>never</i>!
-He could no more leave her that way than he could
-run off to save his life and leave that message he
-carried. She was a trust as much as that. He had
-got into this, and he must get out somehow, but he
-would not desert the lady or neglect his duty.</p>
-
-<p>Toward morning, when his fitful vigil became
-less lucid it occurred to him that he ought really
-to have deserted the bride while she was still unconscious,
-jumping off the train at the short stop
-they made soon after she fell into his arms. She
-would then have been cared for by some one, his
-absence discovered, and she would have been put off
-the train and her friends sent for at once. But it
-would have been dastardly to have deserted her that
-way not knowing even if she still lived, he on whom
-she had at least a claim of temporary protection.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>It was all a terrible muddle, right and wrong
-juggled in such a mysterious and unusual way. He
-never remembered to have come to a spot before
-where it was difficult to know which of two things
-it was right to do. There had always before been
-such clearly defined divisions. He had supposed
-that people who professed not to know what was
-right were people who wished to be blinded on the
-subject because they wished to do wrong and think
-it right. But now he saw that he had judged such
-too harshly.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps his brain had been overstrained with
-the excitement and annoyances of the day, and
-he was not quite in a condition to judge what was
-right. He ought to snatch a few minutes’ sleep, and
-then his mind would be clearer, for something must
-be done and that soon. It would not do to risk
-entering a large city where detectives and officers
-with full particulars might even now be on the watch
-for him. He was too familiar with the workings of
-retribution in this progressive age not to know his
-danger. But he really must get some sleep.</p>
-
-<p>At last he yielded to the drowsiness that was
-stealing over him—just for a moment, he thought,
-and the wheels hummed on their monotonous song:
-“Don’t let anything hinder! Don’t let anything——!
-Don’t let——! Don’t! Hin-der-r-r-r!”</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> man slept, and the train rushed on. The
-night waned. The dawn grew purple in the east,
-and streaked itself with gold; then later got out a
-fillet of crimson and drew over its cloudy forehead.
-The breath of the lilies filled the little room with delicate
-fragrance, and mingled strange scenes in the
-dreams of the man and the woman so strangely
-united.</p>
-
-<p>The sad little bride grew restless and stirred, but
-the man on the couch did not hear her. He was
-dreaming of a shooting affray, in which he carried
-a bride in a gold pencil and was shot for stealing a
-sandwich out of Mr. Holman’s vest-pocket.</p>
-
-<p>The morning light grew clearer. The east had
-put on a vesture of gold above her purple robe, and
-its reflection shone softly in at the window, for
-the train was just at that moment rushing northward,
-though its general course was west.</p>
-
-<p>The sleeper behind the thick green curtains
-stirred again and became conscious, as in many days
-past, of her heavy burden of sorrow. Always at
-first waking the realization of it sat upon her as
-though it would crush the life from her body. Lying
-still with bated breath, she fought back waking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>
-consciousness as she had learned to do in the last
-three months, yet knew it to be futile while she was
-doing it.</p>
-
-<p>The sun shot up between the bars of crimson,
-like a topaz on a lady’s gown that crowns the whole
-beautiful costume. The piercing, jewelled light lay
-across the white face, touched the lips with warm
-fingers, and the troubled soul knew all that had
-passed.</p>
-
-<p>She lay quiet, letting the torrent sweep over her
-with its sickening realization. She was married!
-It was over—with the painful parting from dear
-ones. She was off away from them all. The new
-life she so dreaded had begun, and how was she to
-face it—the life with one whom she feared and
-did not respect? How could she ever have done it
-but for the love of her dear ones?</p>
-
-<p>Gradually she came to remember the night before—the
-parting with her mother and her brother;
-the little things that brought the tears again to her
-eyes. Then all was blankness. She must have
-fainted. She did not often faint, but it must be—yes,
-she remembered opening her eyes and seeing
-men’s faces about her, and George—could it have
-been George?—with a kinder look in his eyes than
-she had ever thought to see there. Then she must
-have fainted again—or had she? No, some one had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>
-lifted her into this berth, and she had drunk something
-and had gone to sleep. What had happened?
-Where was everybody? It was good to have been
-left alone. She grudgingly gave her unloved husband
-a fragment of gratitude for not having tried
-to talk to her. In the carriage on the way he had
-seemed determined to begin a long argument of some
-kind. She did not want to argue any more. She
-had written tomes upon the subject, and had said
-all she had to say. He was not deceived. He knew
-she did not love him, and would never have married
-him but for her mother’s sake and for the sake of
-her beloved father’s memory. What was the use
-of saying more? Let it rest. The deed was done,
-and they were married. Now let him have his way
-and make her suffer as he chose. If he would but
-let her suffer in silence and not inflict his bitter
-tongue upon her, she would try to bear it. And perhaps—oh,
-perhaps, she would not live long, and it
-would soon be all over.</p>
-
-<p>As the daylight grew, the girl felt an inclination
-to find out whether her husband was near. Cautiously
-she lifted her head, and, drawing back a corner
-of the curtain, peered out.</p>
-
-<p>He lay quietly on the couch, one hand under his
-cheek against the pillow, the other across his breast,
-as if to guard something. He was in the still sleep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>
-of the overwearied. He scarcely seemed to be
-breathing.</p>
-
-<p>Celia dropped the curtain, and put her hand to
-her throat. It startled her to find him so near and
-so still. Softly, stealthily, she lay down again and
-closed her eyes. She must not waken him. She
-would have as long a time to herself as was possible,
-and try to think of her dear mother and her
-precious brother. Oh, if she were just going away
-from them alone, how well she could bear it! But
-to be going with one whom she had always almost
-hated——</p>
-
-<p>Her brother’s happy words about George suddenly
-came to her mind. Jefferson had thought
-him fine. Well, of course the dear boy knew nothing
-about it. He had not read all those letters—those
-awful letters. He did not know the threats—the
-terrible language that had been used. She shuddered
-as she thought of it. But in the same breath
-she was glad that her brother had been deceived.
-She would not have it otherwise. Her dear ones
-must never know what she had gone through to save
-them from disgrace and loss of fortune—disgrace,
-of course, being the first and greatest. She had
-feared that George would let them see through his
-veneer of manners, and leave them troubled, but he
-had made a better appearance than she had hoped.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>
-Ten years had made a greater change in him than
-she had expected. He really had not been so bad as
-her conjured image of him.</p>
-
-<p>Then a sudden desire to look at him again seized
-her, to know once for all just how he really did seem.
-She would not want to notice him awake any more
-than she could help, nor dare, lest he presume upon
-her sudden interest, to act as if he had never
-offended; but if she should look at him now as he
-lay asleep she might study his face and see what
-she really had to expect.</p>
-
-<p>She fought the desire to peer at him again, but
-finally it gained complete possession of her, and she
-drew back the curtain once more.</p>
-
-<p>He was lying just as quietly as before. His
-heavy hair, a little disordered on the pillow, gave
-him a noble, interesting appearance. He did not
-seem at all a fellow of whom to be afraid. It was
-incredible that he could have written those letters.</p>
-
-<p>She tried to trace in his features a likeness to
-the youth of ten years ago, whom she had known
-when she was but a little girl, who had tied her
-braids to her chair, and put raw oysters and caterpillars
-down her back, or stretched invisible cords
-to trip her feet in dark places; who made her visits
-to a beloved uncle—whom he also had the right to
-call uncle, though he was no cousin of hers—a long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>
-list of catastrophes resulting in tears; who had never
-failed to mortify her on all occasions possible, and
-once—— But the memories were too horrible as
-they crowded one upon another! Let them be forgotten!</p>
-
-<p>She watched the face before her keenly, critically,
-yet she could see no trace of any such character
-as she had imagined the boy George must have
-developed as a man; of which his letters had given
-her ample proof. This man’s face was finely-cut
-and sensitive. There was nothing coarse or selfish
-in its lines. The long, dark eyelashes lay above
-dark circles of weariness, and gave that look of
-boyishness that always touches the maternal
-chord in a woman’s heart. George used to have a
-puffy, self-indulgent look under his eyes even when
-he was a boy. She had imagined from his last
-photograph that he would be much stouter, much
-more bombastic; but, then, in his sleep, perhaps
-those things fell from a man.</p>
-
-<p>She tried to turn away indifferently, but something
-in his face held her. She studied it. If he had
-been any other man, any stranger, she would have
-said from looking at him critically that kindness
-and generosity, self-respect and respect for women,
-were written all over the face before her. There
-was fine, firm modelling about the lips and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>
-clean-shaven chin; and about the forehead the look
-almost of a scholar; yet she thought she knew the
-man before her to be none of these things. How deceptive
-were looks! She would probably be envied
-rather than pitied by all who saw her. Well, perhaps
-that was better. She could the easier keep her
-trouble to herself. But stay, what was there about
-this man that seemed different? The smooth face?
-Yes. She had the dim impression that last night
-he wore a mustache. She must have been mistaken,
-of course. She had only looked at him when absolutely
-necessary, and her brain was in such a whirl;
-but still there seemed to be something different
-about him.</p>
-
-<p>Her eyes wandered to the hand that lay across
-his breast. It was the fine white hand of the professional
-man, the kind of hand that somehow
-attracts the eye with a sense of cleanness and
-strength. There was nothing flabby about it.
-George as a boy used to have big, stumpy fingers and
-nails chewed down to the quick. She could remember
-how she used to hate to look at them when she
-was a little girl, and yet somehow could not keep
-her eyes away. She saw with relief that the nails
-on this hand were well shaped and well cared for.</p>
-
-<p>He looked very handsome and attractive as he
-lay there. The sun shot one of its early daring bolts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>
-of light across his hair as the train turned in its
-course and lurched northward around a curve. It
-glinted there for a moment, like a miniature search-light,
-travelling over the head, showing up every
-wave and curve. He had the kind of hair which
-makes a woman’s hand instinctively long to touch it.
-Celia wondered at the curious thoughts that
-crowded through her mind, knowing that all the
-while there was the consciousness that when this
-man should wake she would think of nothing but his
-hateful personality as she had known it through the
-years. And she was his wife! How strange! How
-terrible! How impossible to live with the thought
-through interminable weary years! Oh, that she
-might die at once before her strength failed and her
-mother found out her sorrow!
-She lay back again on her pillows very still and
-tried to think, but somehow a pleasant image of
-him, her husband, lingered in her memory. Could
-it be possible that she would ever see anything pleasant
-in him? Ever endure the days of his companionship?
-Ever come to the point where she could
-overlook his outrageous conduct toward her, forgive
-him, and be even tolerant of him? Sharp memories
-crowded upon her, and the smarting tears stung their
-way into her eyes, answering and echoing in her
-heart, “No, no, a thousand times, no!” She had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>
-paid his price and gained redemption for her own,
-but—forget what he had done? <i>Never!</i></p>
-
-<p>The long strain of weariness, and the monotony
-of the onrushing train, lulled her half into unconsciousness
-again, and the man on the couch slumbered
-on.</p>
-
-<p>He came to himself suddenly, with all his senses
-on the alert, as the thumping noise and motion of
-the train ceased, and a sudden silence of open country
-succeeded, broken now and again by distant
-oncoming and receding voices. He caught the fragment
-of a sentence from some train official: “It’s
-a half-hour late, and maybe more. We’ll just have
-to lie by, that’s all. Here, you, Jim, take this flag
-and run up to the switch——” The voice trailed
-into the distance, ended by the metallic note of a
-hammer doing something mysterious to the underpinning
-of the car.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon sat up suddenly, his hand yet across his
-breast, where his first waking thought had been to
-feel if the little pencil-case were safe.</p>
-
-<p>Glancing stealthily toward the curtains of the
-berth, and perceiving no motion, he concluded that
-the girl still slept.</p>
-
-<p>Softly he slipped his feet into his shoes, gave
-one or two other touches to his toilet, and stood up,
-looking toward the curtains. He wanted to go out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>
-and see where they were stopping, but dared he go
-without knowing that she was all right?</p>
-
-<p>Softly, reverently, he stooped and brought his
-face close to the opening in the curtains. Celia felt
-his eyes upon her. Her own were closed, and by a
-superhuman effort she controlled her breathing,
-slowly, gently, as if she were asleep.</p>
-
-<p>He looked for a long moment, thrilled by the
-delicate beauty of her sleeping face, filled with an
-intoxicating joy to see that her lips were no longer
-white; then, turning reverently away, he unlocked
-the door and stepped forth.</p>
-
-<p>The other occupants of the car were still wrapped
-in slumber. Loud snores of various kinds and
-qualities testified to that. A dim light at the further
-end contended luridly, and losingly, with the daylight
-now flooding the outside world and creeping
-mischievously into the transoms.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon closed the door of the compartment
-noiselessly and went down the aisle to the end of
-the car.</p>
-
-<p>A door was open, and he could hear voices outside.
-The conductor stood talking with two brakemen.
-He heard the words: “Three-quarters of an
-hour at least,” and then the men walked off toward
-the engine.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon looked across the country, and for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>
-first time since he started on his journey let himself
-remember that it was springtime and May.</p>
-
-<p>There had been a bitter wind the night before,
-with a hint of rain in the air. In fact, it had rained
-quite smartly during the ride to the hospital with
-the hurt child, but he had been so perturbed that
-he had taken little notice of the weather. But this
-was a radiant morning.</p>
-
-<p>The sun was in one of its most charming moods,
-when it touches everything with a sort of unnatural
-glory after the long winter of darkness and cold.
-Every tree trunk in the distance seemed to stand out
-clearly, every little grass-blade was set with a glowing
-jewel, and the winding stream across a narrow
-valley fairly blazed with brightness. The very road
-with its deep, clean wheel-grooves seemed like a
-well-taken photograph.</p>
-
-<p>The air had an alluring softness mingled with
-its tang of winter that made one long to take a walk
-anywhere out into the world, just for the joy of
-being and doing. A meadow-lark shot up from
-somewhere to a telegraph pole, let go a blithe note,
-and hurried on. It was glorious. The exhilaration
-filled Gordon’s blood.</p>
-
-<p>And here was the chance he craved to slip away
-from the train before it reached a place where he
-could be discovered. If he had but thought to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>
-bring his suit-case! He could slip back now without
-being noticed and get it! He could even go without
-it! But—he could not leave her that way—could
-he? Ought he? Perhaps he ought—— But it
-would not do to leave his suit-case with her, for
-it contained letters addressed to his real name. An
-explanation would of course be demanded, and he
-could never satisfy a loving mother and brother for
-having left a helpless girl in such a situation—even
-if he could satisfy his own conscience, which he
-knew he never could. He simply could not leave
-her, and yet he <i>must</i> get away from that train as
-soon as possible. Perhaps this was the only opportunity
-he would have before reaching Buffalo, and
-it was very risky, indeed dangerous, to dare enter
-Buffalo. It was a foregone conclusion that there
-would be private detectives ready to meet the train
-in Buffalo with full descriptions and particulars and
-only too ready to make way with him if they could
-do so without being found out. He looked nervously
-back at the door of the car. Dared he attempt
-to waken her and say that they had made a mistake
-and must change cars? Was she well enough?
-And where could they go?</p>
-
-<p>He looked off toward the landscape for answer
-to his question.</p>
-
-<p>They were decidedly in the country. The train<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>
-stood at the top of a high embankment of cinders,
-below which was a smooth country road running
-parallel to the railroad for some distance till it met
-another road at right angles to it, which stretched
-away between thrifty meadow-lands to a nestling
-village. The glorified stream he had first noticed
-far up the valley glinted narrower here in the morning
-light, with a suggestion of watercress and forget-me-nots
-in its fringes as it veered away under
-a bridge toward the village and hid itself in a tangle
-of willows and cat-tails.</p>
-
-<p>How easy it would be to slide down that embankment,
-and walk out that road over the bridge to the
-village, where of course a conveyance of some sort
-could be hired to bear him to another railroad town
-and thence to—Pittsburgh, perhaps, where he could
-easily get a train to Washington. How easy if only
-he were not held by some invisible hands to care for
-the sweet sleeper inside the car! And yet, for her
-sake as well as his own, he must do something, and
-that right speedily.</p>
-
-<p>He was standing thus in deep meditation, looking
-off at the little village which seemed so near and
-yet would be so far for her to walk, when he was
-pervaded with that strange sense of some one near.
-For an instant he resisted the desire to lift his eyes
-and prove to himself that no one was present in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>
-doorway which a moment before he knew had been
-unoccupied. Then, frowning at his own nervousness,
-he turned.</p>
-
-<p>She stood there in all the beauty of her fresh
-young girlhood, a delicate pallor on her cheeks, and
-a deep sadness in her great dark eyes, which were
-fixed upon him intently, in a sort of puzzled study.
-She was fully dressed, even to her hat and gloves.
-Every wave of her golden hair lay exquisitely in
-place under the purple hat, as though she might
-have taken an hour or two at her toilet; yet she had
-made it with excited haste, and with trembling fingers,
-determined to have it accomplished before the
-return of her dreaded liege lord.</p>
-
-<p>She had sprung from her berth the instant he
-closed the door upon her, and fastened the little
-catch to bar him out. She had dashed cold water
-into her face, fastened her garments hurriedly, and
-tossed the glory of her hair into place with a few
-touches and what hairpins she could find on the
-floor. Then putting on her hat, coat, and gloves,
-she had followed him into the outer air. She had
-a feeling that she must have air to breathe or she
-would suffocate. A wild desire filled her to go alone
-into the great out-of-doors. Oh, if she but dared to
-run away from him! But that she might not do, for
-all his threats would then probably be made good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>
-by him upon her dear mother and brother. No, she
-must be patient and bear to the end all that was set
-down for her. But she would get out and breathe
-a little before he returned. He had very likely gone
-into the smoker. She remembered that the George
-of old had been an inveterate smoker of cigarettes.
-She would have time for a taste of the morning
-while he had his smoke. And if he returned and
-found her gone what mattered it? The inevitable
-beginning of conversations which she so dreaded
-would be put off for a time.</p>
-
-<p>She never thought to come upon him standing
-thus alone, looking off at the beauty of the morning
-as if he enjoyed it. The sight of him held her still,
-watching, as his sleeping face had held her gaze
-earlier in the morning. How different he was from
-what she had expected! How the ten years had
-changed him! One could almost fancy it might
-have changed his spirit also—but for those letters—those
-terrible letters! The writer of those letters
-could not change, except for the worse!
-And yet, he was handsome, intellectual looking,
-kindly in his bearing, appreciative of the beauty
-about him—she could not deny it. It was most
-astonishing. He had lost that baggy look under
-his eyes, and the weak, selfish, cruel pout of lip
-she remembered so keenly.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>Then he turned, and a smile of delight and welcome
-lit up his face. In spite of herself, she could
-not keep an answering smile from glimmering
-faintly in her own.</p>
-
-<p>“What! You up and out here?” he said, hastening
-closer to the step. “How are you feeling
-this morning? Better, I’m sure, or you would not
-be here so early.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I had to get out to the air,” she said.
-“I couldn’t stand the car another minute. I wish
-we could walk the rest of the way.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you?” he said, with a quick, surprised
-appreciation in his voice. “I was just wishing something
-like that myself. Do you see that beautiful
-straight road down there? I was longing to slide
-down this bank and walk over to that little village
-for breakfast. Then we could get an auto, perhaps,
-or a carriage, to take us on to another train. If
-you hadn’t been so ill last night, I might have proposed
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Could we?” she asked, earnestly. “I should
-like it so much;” and there was eagerness in her
-voice. “What a lovely morning!” Her eyes were
-wistful, like the eyes of those who weep and wonder
-why they may not laugh, since sunshine is still
-yellow.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>“Of course we could,” he said, “if you were
-only able.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I’m able enough. I should much rather
-do that than to go back into that stuffy car. But
-wouldn’t they think it awfully queer of us to run
-away from the train this way?”</p>
-
-<p>“They needn’t know anything about it,” he
-declared, like a boy about to play truant. “I’ll slip
-back in the car and get our suit-cases. Is there anything
-of yours I might be in danger of leaving
-behind?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I put everything in my suit-case before I
-came out,” she said, listlessly, as though she had
-already lost her desire to go.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m afraid you are not able,” he said, pausing
-solicitously as he scaled the steps.</p>
-
-<p>She was surprised at his interest in her welfare.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, of course I am,” she said, insistently.
-“I have often taken longer walks than that looks to
-be, and I shall feel much better for being out. I
-really feel as if I couldn’t stand it any longer in
-there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Good! Then, we’ll try it!”</p>
-
-<p>He hurried in for the baggage and left her
-standing on the cinder roadbed beside the train looking
-off at the opening morning.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was just at that instant that the thick-set man
-in his berth not ten feet away became broadly conscious
-of the unwonted stillness of the train and the
-cessation of motion that had lulled him to such
-sound repose. So does a tiny, sharp sound strike
-upon our senses and bring them into life again
-from sleep, making us aware of a state of things
-that has been going on for some time perhaps without
-our realization. The sound that roused him
-may have been the click of the stateroom latch as
-Gordon opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>The shades were down in the man’s berth and
-the curtains drawn close. The daylight had not
-as yet penetrated through their thickness. But once
-awake his senses were immediately on the alert. He
-yawned, stretched and suddenly arrested another
-yawn to analyze the utter stillness all about him. A
-sonorous snore suddenly emphasized the quiet of
-the car, and made him aware of all the occupants of
-all those curtained apartments. His mind went
-over a quick résumé of the night before, and detailed
-him at once to duty.</p>
-
-<p>Another soft clicking of the latch set him to
-listening and his bristly shocked head was stuck<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>
-instantly out between the curtains into the aisle,
-eyes toward the stateroom door, just in time to see
-that a man was stealing quietly down the passageway
-out of the end door, carrying two suit-cases and
-an umbrella. It was his man. He was sure instantly,
-and his mind grew frantic with the thought.
-Almost he had outdone himself through foolish
-sleep.</p>
-
-<p>He half sprang from his berth, then remembered
-that he was but partly dressed, and jerked back
-quickly to grab his clothes, stopping in the operation
-of putting them on to yank up his window shade
-with an impatient click and flatten his face against
-the window-pane!</p>
-
-<p>Yes, there they were down on the ground outside
-the train, both of them; man, woman, baggage
-and all slipping away from him while he slept peacefully
-and let them go! The language of his mind
-at that point was hot with invectives.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had made his way back to the girl’s side
-without meeting any porters or wakeful fellow-passengers.
-But a distant rumbling greeted his
-ears. The waited-for express was coming. If they
-were to get away, it must be done at once or their
-flight would be discovered, and perhaps even prevented.
-It certainly was better not to have it known
-where they got off. He had taken the precaution to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>
-close the stateroom door behind him and so it might
-be some time before their absence would be discovered.
-Perhaps there would be other stops before
-the train reached Buffalo, in which case their track
-would not easily be followed. He had no idea that
-the evil eye of his pursuer was even then upon him.</p>
-
-<p>Celia was already on the ground, looking off
-toward the little village wistfully. Just how it was
-to make her lot any brighter to get out of the train
-and run away to a strange little village she did not
-quite explain to herself, but it seemed to be a relief
-to her pent-up feelings. She was half afraid that
-George might raise some new objection when he
-returned.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon swung himself down on the cinder path,
-scanning the track either way. The conductor and
-brakemen were not in sight. Far in the distance
-a black speck was rushing down upon them. Gordon
-could hear the vibration of the rail of the second
-track, upon which he placed his foot as he helped
-Celia across. In a moment more the train would
-pass. It was important that they should be down
-the embankment, out of sight. Would the delicate
-girl not be afraid of the steep incline?</p>
-
-<p>She hesitated for just an instant at the top, for
-it was very steep. Then, looking up at him, she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>
-saw that he expected her to go down with him. She
-gave a little frightened gasp, set her lips, and started.</p>
-
-<p>He held her as well as he could with two suit-cases
-and an umbrella clutched in his other hand,
-and finally, as the grade grew steeper, he let go the
-baggage altogether, and it slid briskly down by itself,
-while he devoted himself to steadying the girl’s now
-inevitable and swift descent.</p>
-
-<p>It certainly was not an ideal way of travelling,
-this new style of “gravity” road, but it landed them
-without delay, though much shaken and scratched,
-and divested of every vestige of dignity. It was
-impossible not to laugh, and Celia’s voice rang out
-merrily, showing that she had not always wept and
-looked sorrowful.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you much hurt?” asked Gordon anxiously,
-holding her hands and looking down at her tenderly.</p>
-
-<p>Before she could reply, the express train roared
-above them, drowning their voices and laughter;
-and when it was past they saw their own train take
-up its interrupted way grumblingly, and rapidly
-move off. If the passengers on those two trains
-had not been deeply wrapped in slumber, they might
-have been surprised to see two fashionably attired
-young persons, with hats awry and clasped hands,
-laughing in a country road at five o’clock of a May
-morning. But only one was awake, and by the time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>
-the two in the road below remembered to look up
-and take notice, the trains were rapidly disappearing.</p>
-
-<p>The girl had been deeply impressed with Gordon’s
-solicitude for her. It was so out of keeping
-with his letters. He had never seemed to care
-whether she suffered or not. In all the arrangements,
-he had said what <i>he</i> wanted, indeed what he
-<i>would have</i>, with an implied threat in the framing
-of his sentence in case she dared demur. Never had
-there been the least expression of desire for her
-happiness. Therefore it was something of a surprise
-to find him so gentle and thoughtful of her. Perhaps,
-after all, he would not prove so terrible to
-live with as she had feared. And yet—how could
-anyone who wrote those letters have any alleviating
-qualities? It could not be. She must harden herself
-against him. Still, if he would be outwardly
-decent to her, it would make her lot easier, of course.</p>
-
-<p>But her course of mental reasoning was broken
-in upon by his stout denunciations of himself.</p>
-
-<p>“I ought not to have allowed you to slide down
-there,” he declared. “It was terrible, after what
-you went through last night. I didn’t realize how
-steep and rough it was. Indeed I didn’t. I don’t
-see how you ever can forgive me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I’m not hurt,” she said gently, astonished
-at his solicitation. There was a strange lump<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>
-in her throat brought by his kindness, which threatened
-tears. Just why should kindness from an unexpected
-quarter bring tears?</p>
-
-<p>“I’m only a little shaken up,” she went on as she
-saw a real anxiety in his brown eyes, “and I don’t
-mind it in the least. I think it was rather fun, don’t
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>A faint glimmer of a smile wavered over the corners
-of her mouth, and Gordon experienced a sudden
-desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. It was a
-strange new feeling. He had never had any such
-thought about Julia Bentley.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I—why, yes, I guess so, if you’re sure
-you’re not hurt.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit,” she said, and then, for some unexplained
-reason, they both began to laugh. After that
-they felt better.</p>
-
-<p>“If your shoes are as full of these miserable cinders
-as mine are, they need emptying,” declared
-Gordon, shaking first one well-shod foot and then
-the other, and looking ruefully at the little velvet
-boots of the lady.</p>
-
-<p>“Suppose you sit down”—he looked about for a
-seat, but the dewy grass was the only resting place
-visible. He pitched upon the suit-cases and improvised
-a chair. “Now, sit down and let me take them
-off for you.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>He knelt in the road at her feet as she obeyed,
-protesting that she could do it for herself. But he
-overruled her, and began clumsily to unbutton the
-tiny buttons, holding the timid little foot firmly,
-almost reverently, against his knee.</p>
-
-<p>He drew the velvet shoe softly off, and, turning
-it upside down, shook out the intruding cinders, put
-a clumsy finger in to make sure they were all gone;
-then shyly, tenderly, passed his hand over the sole
-of the fine silk-stockinged foot that rested so lightly
-on his knee, to make sure no cinders clung to it. The
-sight and touch of that little foot stirred him deeply.
-He had never before been called upon to render service
-so intimate to any woman, and he did it now
-with half-averted gaze and the utmost respect in his
-manner. As he did it he tried to speak about the
-morning, the departing train, the annoying cinders,
-anything to make their unusual position seem natural
-and unstrained. He felt deeply embarrassed,
-the more so because of his own double part in this
-queer masquerade.</p>
-
-<p>Celia sat watching him, strangely stirred. Her
-wonder over his kindness grew with each moment,
-and her prejudices almost dissolved. She could not
-understand it. There must be something more he
-wanted of her, for George Hayne had never been
-kind in the past unless he wanted something of her.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>
-She dreaded lest she should soon find it out. Yet
-he did not look like a man who was deceiving her.
-She drew a deep sigh. If only it were true, and he
-were good and kind, and had never written those
-awful letters! How good and dear it would be
-to be tenderly cared for this way! Her lips drooped
-at the corners, and her eyelids drooped in company
-with the sigh; then Gordon looked up in great
-distress.</p>
-
-<p>“You are tired!” he declared, pausing in his
-attempt to fasten the little pearl buttons. “I have
-been cruel to let you get off the train!”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I’m not,” said the girl, brightening with
-sudden effort. At least, she would not spoil the
-kindness while it lasted. It was surely better than
-what she had feared.</p>
-
-<p>“You never can button those shoes with your
-fingers,” she laughed, as he redoubled his efforts
-to capture a tiny disc of pearl and set it into its small
-velvet socket. “Here! I have a button-hook in
-my hand-bag. Try this.”</p>
-
-<p>She produced a small silver instrument from a
-gold-link bag on her arm and handed it to him. He
-took it helplessly, trying first one end and then the
-other, and succeeding with neither.</p>
-
-<p>“Here, let me show you,” she laughed, pulling
-off one glove. Her white fingers grasped the silver<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>
-button-hook, and flashed in and out of the velvet
-holes, knitting the little shoe to the foot in no time.
-He watched the process in humble wonder, and she
-would not have been a human girl not to have
-been flattered with his interest and admiration. For
-the minute she forgot who and what he was, and let
-her laugh ring out merrily; and so with shy audacity
-he assayed to take off the other shoe.</p>
-
-<p>They really felt quite well acquainted and as if
-they were going on a day’s picnic, when they finally
-gathered up their belongings and started down the
-road. Gordon summoned all his ready wit and intellect
-to brighten the walk for her, though he found
-himself again and again on the brink of referring
-to his Washington life, or some other personal
-matter that would have brought a wondering question
-to her lips. He had decided that he must not
-tell her who he was until he could put her in an independent
-position, where she could get away from him
-at once if she chose. He was bound to look after
-her until he could place her in good hands, or at least
-where she could look after herself, and it was better
-to carry it out leaving her to think what she pleased
-until he could tell her everything. If all went well,
-they might be able to catch a Pittsburgh train that
-night and be in Washington the next day. Then, his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>
-message delivered, he would tell her the whole story.
-Until then he must hold his peace.</p>
-
-<p>They went gaily down the road, the girl’s pale
-cheeks beginning to flush with the morning and
-the exercise. She was not naturally delicate, and
-her faint the night before had been the result of a
-series of heavy strains on a heart burdened with terrible
-fear. The morning and his kindness had made
-her forget for the time that she was supposed to be
-walking into a world of dread and sacrifice.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“The year’s at the spring,</div>
-<div class="verse">The day’s at the morn,”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>quoted Gordon gaily,</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“Morning’s at seven;</div>
-<div class="verse">The hill-side’s dew-pearled——”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>He waved an umbrella off to where a hill flashed
-back a thousand lights from its jewelled grass-blades
-thickly set.</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“The lark’s on the wing;</div>
-<div class="verse">The snail’s on the thorn,”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>went on Celia suddenly catching his spirit, and pointing
-to a lark that darted up into the blue with a
-trill of the morning in his throat.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon turned appreciative eyes upon her. It
-was good to have her take up his favorite poet in that
-tone of voice—a tone that showed she too knew and
-loved Browning.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span></p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="first">“God’s in his heaven,</div>
-<div class="verse">All’s right with the world,”</div>
-</div></div>
-
-<p>finished Gordon in a quieter voice, looking straight
-into her eyes. “That seems very true, to-day,
-doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>The blue eyes wavered with a hint of shadow
-in them as they looked back into the brown ones.</p>
-
-<p>“Almost—perhaps,” she faltered wistfully.</p>
-
-<p>The young man wished he dared go behind that
-“almost—perhaps” and find out what she meant,
-but concluded it were better to bring back the smile
-and help her to forget for a little while at least.</p>
-
-<p>Down by the brook, they paused to rest, under a
-weeping willow, whose green-tinged plumes were
-dabbling in the brook. Gordon arranged the suit-cases
-for her to sit upon, then climbed down to the
-brookside and gathered a great bunch of forget-me-nots,
-blue as her eyes, and brought them to her.</p>
-
-<p>She looked at them in wonder, to think they grew
-out here, wild, untended. She had never seen them
-before, except in pots in the florist’s windows. She
-touched them delicately with the tips of her fingers,
-as if they were too ethereal for earth; then fastened
-them in the breast of her gown.</p>
-
-<p>“They exactly match your eyes!” he exclaimed
-involuntarily, and then wished he had not spoken,
-for she flushed and paled under his glance, until<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>
-he felt he had been unduly bold. He wondered why
-he had said that. He never had been in the habit
-of saying pretty things to girls, but this girl somehow
-called it from him. It was genuine. He sat a
-moment abashed, not knowing what to say next, as
-if he were a shy boy, and she did not help him, for
-her eyelashes drooped in a long becoming sweep over
-her cheeks, and she seemed for the moment not to
-be able to carry off the situation. He was not sure if
-she were displeased or not.</p>
-
-<p>Her heart had thrilled strangely as he spoke, and
-she was vexed with herself that it should be so. A
-man who had bullied and threatened her for three
-terrible months and forced her to marry him had no
-right to a thrill of her heart nor a look from her
-eyes, be he ever so kind for the moment. He certainly
-was nice and pleasant when he chose to be; she
-must watch herself, for never, never, must she yield
-weakly to his smooth overtures. Well did she know
-him. He had some reason for all this pleasantness.
-It would surely be revealed soon.</p>
-
-<p>She stiffened her lips and tried to look away from
-him to the purply-green hills; but the echo of his
-words came upon her again, and again her heart
-thrilled at them. What if—oh what if he were all
-right, and she might accept the admiration in his
-voice? And yet how could that be possible? The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>
-sweet color came into her cheeks again, and the tears
-flew quickly to her eyes, till they looked all sky and
-dew, and she dared not turn back to him.</p>
-
-<p>The silence remained unbroken, until a lark in the
-willow copse behind them burst forth into song and
-broke the spell that was upon them.</p>
-
-<p>“Are you offended at what I said?” he asked
-earnestly. “I am sorry if you did not like it. The
-words said themselves without my stopping to think
-whether you might not like it. Will you forgive
-me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” she said, lifting her forget-me-not eyes
-to his, “I am not offended. There is nothing to
-forgive. It was—beautiful!”</p>
-
-<p>Then his eyes spoke the compliment over again,
-and the thrill started anew in her heart, till her cheeks
-grew quite rosy, and she buried her face in the coolness
-of the tiny flowers to hide her confusion.</p>
-
-<p>“It was very true,” he said in a low, lover-like
-voice that sounded like a caress.</p>
-
-<p>“Oughtn’t we to hurry on to catch our train?”
-said Celia, suddenly springing to her feet. “I’m
-quite rested now.” She felt if she stayed there another
-moment she would yield to the spell he had cast
-upon her.</p>
-
-<p>With a dull thud of consciousness the man got
-himself to his feet and reminded himself that this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>
-was another man’s promised wife to whom he had
-been letting his soul go out.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let
-anything hinder you!” suddenly babbled out the
-little brook, and he gathered up his suit-cases and
-started on.</p>
-
-<p>“I am going to carry my suit-case,” declared a
-very decided voice behind him, and a small hand
-Seized hold of its handle.</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon, you are not!” declared
-Gordon in a much more determined voice.</p>
-
-<p>“But they are too heavy for you—both of them—and
-the umbrella too,” she protested. “Give me
-the umbrella then.”</p>
-
-<p>But he would not give her even the umbrella,
-rejoicing in his strength to shield her and bear her
-burdens. As she walked beside him, she remembered
-vividly a morning when George Hayne had made
-her carry two heavy baskets, that his hands might
-be free to shoot birds. Could this be the same
-George Hayne?</p>
-
-<p>Altogether, it was a happy walk, and far shorter
-than either had expected it to be, though Gordon
-worried not a little about his frail companion before
-they came to the outskirts of the village, and kept
-begging her to sit down and rest again, but she
-would not. She was quite eager and excited about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>
-the strange village to which they were coming. Its
-outlying farm-houses were all so clean and white,
-with green blinds folded placidly over their front
-windows, and only their back doors astir. The cows
-all looked peaceful, and the dogs all seemed friendly.</p>
-
-<p>They walked up the village street, shaded in
-patches with flecks of sunshine through the young
-leaves. If anyone had told Celia Hathaway the
-night before that she would have walked and talked
-thus to-day with her bridegroom she would have
-laughed him to scorn. But now all unconsciously
-she had drifted into an attitude of friendliness with
-the man whom she had thought to hate all the rest
-of her life.</p>
-
-<p>One long, straight, maple-lined street, running
-parallel to the stream, comprised the village. They
-walked to the centre of it, and still saw no signs of a
-restaurant. A post-office, a couple of stores and a
-bakery made up the business portion of the town,
-and upon enquiry it appeared that there was no
-public eating house, the one hotel of the place having
-been sold at auction the week before on account of
-the death of the owner. The early village loungers
-stared disinterestedly at the phenomenal appearance
-in their midst of a couple of city folks with
-their luggage and no apparent means of transit except
-their two delicately shod feet. It presented a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>
-problem too grave to be solved unassisted, and
-there were solemn shakings of the head over them.
-At last one who had discouragingly stated the village
-lack of a public inn asked casually:</p>
-
-<p>“Hed a runaway?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no!” laughed Gordon pleasantly. “We
-didn’t travel with horses.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hed a puncture, then,” announced the village
-wiseacre, shifting from one foot to the other.</p>
-
-<p>“Wal, you come the wrong direction to git help,”
-said another languid listener. “Thur ain’t no garridge
-here. The feller what uset to keep it skipped
-out with Sam Galt’s wife a month ago. You’d
-ought to ’a’ turned back to Ashville. They got a
-good blacksmith there can tinker ye up.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is that so?” said Gordon interestedly. “Well
-now that’s too bad, but perhaps as it can’t be helped
-we’ll have to forget it. What’s the next town on
-ahead and how far?”</p>
-
-<p>“Sugar Grove’s two mile further on, and Milton’s
-five. They’ve got a garridge and a rest’rant to
-Milton, but that’s only sence the railroad built a
-junction there.”</p>
-
-<p>“Has anyone here a conveyance I could hire
-to take us to Milton?” questioned Gordon, looking
-anxiously about the indolent group.</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t want to drive to Milton for less’n<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>
-five dollars,” declared a lazy youth after a suitable
-pause.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” said Gordon. “How soon can you
-be ready, and what sort of a rig have you? Will
-it be comfortable for the lady?”</p>
-
-<p>The youth eyed the graceful woman in her dainty
-city dress scornfully. His own country lass was
-dressed far prettier to his mind; but the eyes of her,
-so blue, like the little weed-flowers at her breast,
-went to his head. His tongue was suddenly tied.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s all right! It’s as good’s you’ll get!” volunteered
-a sullen-faced man half sitting on a sugar
-barrel. He was of a type who preferred to see
-fashionable ladies uncomfortable.</p>
-
-<p>The youth departed for his “team” and after
-some enquiries Gordon found that he might be able
-to persuade the owner of the tiny white colonial cot
-across the street to prepare a “snack” for himself
-and his companion, so they went across the street
-and waited fifteen minutes in a dank little hair-cloth
-parlor adorned in funeral wreaths and knit tidies,
-for a delicious breakfast of poached eggs, coffee,
-home-made bread, butter like roses, and a comb of
-amber honey. To each the experience was a new
-one, and they enjoyed it together like two children,
-letting their eyes speak volumes of comments in
-the midst of the old lady’s volubility. Unconsciously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>
-by their experiences they were being brought into
-sympathy with each other.</p>
-
-<p>The “rig” when it arrived at the door driven
-by the blushing youth proved to be a high spring wagon
-with two seats. In the front one the youth
-lounged without a thought of assisting his passengers.
-Gordon swung the baggage up, and then lifted
-the girl into the back seat, himself taking the place
-beside her, and planting a firm hand and arm behind
-the backless seat, that she might feel more secure.</p>
-
-<p>That ride, with his arm behind her, was just
-one more link in the pretty chain of sympathy that
-was being welded about these two. Unconsciously
-more and more she began to droop, until when she
-grew very tired he seemed to know at once.</p>
-
-<p>“Just lean against my arm,” he said. “You
-must be very tired and it will help you bear the
-jolting.” He spoke as if his arm were made of wood
-or iron, and was merely one of his belongings, like
-an umbrella or suit-case. He made it seem quite the
-natural thing for her to lean against him. If he had
-claimed it as her right and privilege as wife, she
-would have recoiled from him for recalling to her
-the hated relation, and would have sat straight as a
-bean-pole the rest of the way, but, as it was, she
-sank back a trifle deprecatingly, and realized that it
-was a great help. In her heart she thanked him for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>
-making it possible for her to rest without entirely
-compromising her attitude toward him. There was
-nothing about it that suggested anything lover-like;
-it seemed just a common courtesy.</p>
-
-<p>Yet the strong arm almost trembled as he felt the
-precious weight against it, and he wished that the
-way were ten miles instead of five. Once, as Celia
-leaned forward to point to a particularly lovely bit
-of view that opened up as they wound around a
-curve in the road, they ran over a stone, and the
-wagon gave an unexpected jolt. Gordon reached
-his hand out to steady her, and she settled back to
-his arm with a sense of safety and being cared for
-that was very pleasant. Looking up shyly, she saw
-his eyes upon her, with that deep look of admiration
-and something more, and again that strange thrill of
-joy that had come when he gave her the forget-me-nots
-swept through her. She felt almost as if she
-were harboring a sinful thought when she remembered
-the letters he had written; but the joy of the
-day, and the sweetness of happiness for even a
-moment, when she had been for so long a time sad,
-was so pleasant that she let herself enjoy it and
-drift, refusing to think evil of him now, here, in
-this bright day. Thus like children on a picnic, they
-passed through Sugar Grove and came to the town
-of Milton, and there they bade their driver good-by,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>
-rewarding him with a crisp five-dollar bill. He drove
-home with a vision of smiles in forget-me-not eyes,
-and a marked inability to tell anything about his
-wonderful passengers who had filled the little village
-with awe and amazement, and had given no clue
-to anyone as to who or what they were.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">But</span> to go back to the pursuer, in his berth, baffled
-and frantic and raging. With hands that fumbled
-because of their very eagerness he sought to get
-into his garments, and find his shoes from the melée
-of blankets and other articles in the berth, all the
-time keeping one eye out of the window, for he
-must not let his prey get away from him now. He
-must watch and see what they were going to do.
-How fortunate that he had wakened in time for that.
-At least he would have a clue. Where was this?
-A station?</p>
-
-<p>He stopped operations once more to gaze off at
-the landscape, a desolate country scene to his city
-hardened eyes. Not a house in sight, nor a station.
-The spires of the distant village seemed like a mirage
-to him. This couldn’t be a station. What were
-those two doing down there anyway? Dared he
-risk calling the conductor and having him hold
-them? No, this affair must be kept absolutely quiet.
-Mr. Holman had said that if a breath of the matter
-came out it was worse than death for all concerned.
-He must just get off this train as fast as he could
-and follow them if they were getting away. It might
-be he could get the man in a lonely place—it would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>
-be easy enough to watch his chance and gag the
-lady—he had done such things before. He felt far
-more at home in such an affair than he had the night
-before at the Holman dinner-table. What a pity
-one of the others had not come along. It would be
-mere child’s play for two to handle those two who
-looked as if they would turn frightened at the first
-threat. However, he felt confident that he could
-manage the affair alone.</p>
-
-<p>He panted with haste and succeeded in getting
-the wrong legs into his trousers and having to begin
-all over again, his efforts greatly hampered by
-the necessity for watching out the window.</p>
-
-<p>Then came the distant rumble of an oncoming
-train, and an answering scream from his own engine.
-The two on the ground had crossed quickly over the
-second track and were looking down the steep embankment.
-Were they going down there? What
-fate that he was not ready to follow them at once!
-The train that was coming would pass—their own
-would start—and he could not get out. His opportunity
-was going from him and he could not find his
-shoes!</p>
-
-<p>Well what of it? He would go without! What
-were shoes in a time like this? Surely he could get
-along barefoot, and beg a pair at some farmhouse,
-or buy a pair at a country store. He must get out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>
-at any cost, shoes or no shoes. Grasping his coat
-which contained his money and valuables he sprang
-from his berth straight into the arms of the porter
-who was hurrying back to his car after having been
-out to gossip with a brakeman over the delay.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s de mattah, sah?” asked the astonished
-porter, rallying quickly from the shock and assuming
-his habitual courtesy.</p>
-
-<p>“My shoes!” roared the irate traveller. “What
-have you done with my shoes?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quiet, sah, please sah, you’ll wake de whole
-cyah,” said the porter. “I put yoh shoes under de
-berth sah, right whar I allus puts ’em aftah blackin’
-sah.”</p>
-
-<p>The porter stooped and extracted the shoes from
-beneath the curtain and the traveller, whose experience
-in Pullmans was small, grabbed them furiously
-and made for the door, shoes in hand, for with a
-snort and a lurch and a preliminary jar the train
-had taken up its motion, and a loud rushing outside
-proclaimed that the other train was passing.</p>
-
-<p>The porter, feeling that he had been treated with
-injustice, stood gazing reproachfully after the man
-for a full minute before he followed him to tell him
-that the wash-room was at the other end of the car
-and not down past the drawing-room as he evidently
-supposed.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>He found his man standing in stocking feet on
-the cold iron platform, his head out of the opening
-left in the vestibuled train, for when the porter came
-in he had drawn shut the outer door and slammed
-down the movable platform, making it impossible
-for anyone to get out. There was only the little
-opening the size of a window above the grating
-guard, and the man clung to it as if he would jump
-over it if he only dared. He was looking back over
-the track and his face was not good to see.</p>
-
-<p>He turned wildly upon the porter.</p>
-
-<p>“I want you to stop this train and let me off,” he
-shouted. “I’ve lost something valuable back there
-on the track. Stop the train quick, I tell you, or I’ll
-sue the railroad.”</p>
-
-<p>“What was it you lost?” asked the porter respectfully.
-He wasn’t sure but the man was half
-asleep yet.</p>
-
-<p>“It was a—my—why it was a very valuable
-paper. It means a fortune to me and several other
-people and I must go back and get it. Stop the train,
-I tell you, at once or I’ll jump out.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can’t stop de train sah, you’ll hev to see de
-conductah sah, ’bout dat. But I specks there’s
-mighty little prospec’ o’ gettin’ dis train stopped
-foh it gits to its destinashun sah. We’s one hour<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>
-a’hind time now, sah, an’ he’s gotta make up foh
-we gits to Buff’lo.”</p>
-
-<p>The excited passenger railed and stormed until
-several sleepers were awakened and stuck curious
-sleepy countenances out from the curtains of their
-berths, but the porter was obdurate, and would not
-take any measures to stop the train, nor even call
-the conductor until the passenger promised to return
-quietly to his berth.</p>
-
-<p>The thick-set man was not used to obeying but
-he saw that he was only hindering himself and
-finally hurried back to his berth where he hastily
-parted the curtains, craning his neck to see back
-along the track and over the green valley growing
-smaller and smaller now in the distance. He could
-just make out two moving specks on the white winding
-ribbon of the road. He felt sure he knew the
-direction they were taking. If he only could get
-off that train he could easily catch them, for they
-would have no idea he was coming, and would take
-no precautions. If he had only wakened a few
-seconds sooner he would have been following them
-even now.</p>
-
-<p>Fully ten minutes he argued with the conductor,
-showing a wide incongruity between his language
-and his gentlemanly attire, but the conductor would
-do nothing but promise to set him down at a water<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>
-tower ten miles ahead where they had to slow up for
-water. He said sue or no sue he had his orders,
-and the thick-set man did not inspire him either to
-sympathy or confidence. The conductor had been
-many years on the road and generally knew when to
-stop his train and when to let it go on.</p>
-
-<p>Sullenly the thick-set man accepted the conductor’s
-decision and prepared to leave the train at the
-water tower, his eye out for the landmarks along
-the way as he completed his hasty toilet.</p>
-
-<p>He was in no pleasant frame of mind, having
-missed a goodly amount of his accustomed stimulants
-the night before, and seeing little prospect of
-either stimulants or breakfast before him. He was
-not built for a ten-mile walk over the cinders and
-his flabby muscles already ached at the prospect.
-But then, of course he would not have to go far before
-he found an automobile or some kind of conveyance
-to help him on his way. He looked eagerly
-from the window for indications of garages or
-stables, but the river wound its silver way among the
-gray green willow fringes, and the new grass shone
-a placid emerald plain with nothing more human
-than a few cows grazing here and there. Not even
-a horse that might be borrowed without his owner’s
-knowledge. It was a strange, forsaken spot, ten
-whole miles and no sign of any public livery! Off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>
-to the right and left he could see villages, but they
-were most of them too far away from the track to
-help him any. It began to look as if he must
-just foot it all the way. Now and then a small
-shanty or tiny dwelling whizzed by near at hand, but
-nothing that would relieve his situation.</p>
-
-<p>It occurred to him to go into the dining-car for
-breakfast, but even as he thought of it the conductor
-told him that the train would stop in two minutes and
-he must be ready to get off, for they did not stop
-long.</p>
-
-<p>He certainly looked a harmless creature, that
-thick-set man as he stood alone upon the cinder elevation
-and surveyed the landscape o’er. Ten miles
-from his quarry, alone on a stretch of endless ties
-and rails with a gleaming river mocking him down
-in the valley, and a laughing sky jeering overhead.
-He started down the shining track his temper a
-wreck, his mind in chaos, his soul at war with the
-world. The worst of it all was that the whole fault
-was his own for going to sleep. He began to fear
-that he had lost his chance. Then he set his ugly
-jaw and strode ahead.</p>
-
-<p>The morning sun poured down upon the thick-set
-man on his pilgrimage, and waxed hotter until noon.
-Trains whizzed mercilessly by and gave him no succor.
-Weary, faint, and fiercely thirsty he came at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>
-last to the spot where he was satisfied his quarry had
-escaped. He could see the marks of their rough
-descent in the steep cinder bank, and assaying the
-same himself came upon a shred of purple silk caught
-on a bramble at the foot.</p>
-
-<p>Puffing and panting, bruised and foot-sore, he
-sat down at the very place where Celia had stopped
-to have her shoes fastened, and mopped his purple
-brow, but there was triumph in his ugly eye, and
-after a few moment’s rest he trudged onward. That
-town over there ought to yield both conveyance and
-food as well as information concerning those he
-sought. He would catch them. They could never
-get away from him. He was on their track again,
-though hours behind. He would get them yet and
-no man should take his reward from him.</p>
-
-<p>Almost spent he came at last to the village, and
-ate a surprisingly large dish of beef and vegetable
-stew at the quaint little house where Celia and Gordon
-had breakfasted, but the old lady who served
-it to them was shy about talking, and though admitting
-that a couple of people had been there that morning
-she was non-committal about their appearance.
-They might have been young and good-looking and
-worn feathers in their hats, and they might not.
-She wasn’t one for noticing people’s appearance if
-they treated her civilly and paid their bills. Would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>
-he have another cup of coffee? He would, and also
-two more pieces of pie, but he got very little further
-information.</p>
-
-<p>It was over at the corner store where he finally
-went in search of something stronger than coffee
-that he further pursued his investigations.</p>
-
-<p>The loungers were still there. It was their only
-business in life and they were most diligent in it.
-They eyed the newcomer with a relish and settled
-back on their various barrels and boxes to enjoy
-whatever entertainment the gods were about to provide
-to relieve their monotonous existence.</p>
-
-<p>A house divided against itself cannot stand. This
-man’s elegant garments assumed for the nonce did
-not fit the rest of his general appearance which had
-been accentuated by his long, hot, dusty tramp. The
-high evening hat was jammed on the back of his head
-and bore a decided dent where it had rolled down the
-cinder embankment, his collar was wilted and lifeless,
-his white laundered tie at half mast, his coat
-awry, and his fine patent leather shoes which
-pinched were covered with dust and had caused a
-limp like the hardest tramp upon the road. Moreover,
-again the speech of the man betrayed him, and
-the keen-minded old gossips who were watching him
-suspiciously sized him up at once the minute he
-opened his mouth.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>“Saw anything of a couple of young folks walking
-down this way?” he enquired casually, pausing
-to light a cigar with which he was reinforcing himself
-for further travel.</p>
-
-<p>One man allowed that there might have passed
-such people that day. He hardly seemed willing to
-commit himself, but another vouchsafed the information
-that “Joe here driv two parties of thet
-description to Milton this mornin’—jes’ got back.
-Mebbe he could answer fer ’em.”</p>
-
-<p>Joe frowned. He did not like the looks of the
-thick-set man. He still remembered the forget-me-not
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p>But the stranger made instant request to be
-driven to Milton, offering ten dollars for the same
-when he found that his driver was reluctant, and
-that Milton was a railroad centre. A few keen questions
-had made him sure that his man had gone to
-Milton.</p>
-
-<p>Joe haggled, allowed his horse was tired, and he
-didn’t care about the trip twice in one day, but finally
-agreed to take the man for fifteen dollars, and sauntered
-off to get a fresh horse. He had no mind to
-be in a hurry. He had his own opinion about letting
-those two “parties” get out of the way before the
-third put in an appearance, but he had no mind to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>
-lose the fifteen dollars. It would help to buy the
-ring he coveted for his girl.</p>
-
-<p>In due time Joe rode leisurely up and the impatient
-traveller climbed into the high spring wagon
-and was driven away from the apathetic gaze of the
-country loungers, who unblinkingly took in the fact
-that Joe was headed toward Ashville, and evidently
-intended taking his fare to Milton by way of that
-village, a thirty-mile drive at least. The man would
-get the worth of his money in ride. A grim twinkle
-sat in their several eyes as the spring wagon turned
-the curve in the road and was lost to sight, and
-after due silence an old stager spoke:</p>
-
-<p>“Do you reckon that there was their sho-fur?”
-he requested languidly.</p>
-
-<p>“Naw!” replied a farmer’s son vigorously.
-“He wouldn’t try to showf all dolled up like that.
-He’s the rich dad comin’ after the runaways. Joe
-don’t intend he shell get ’em yet awhile. I reckon
-the ceremony’ll be over ’fore he steps in to interfere.”
-This lad went twice a month to Milton to
-the “movies” and was regarded as an authority
-on matters of romance. A pause showed that his
-theory had taken root in the minds of his auditors.</p>
-
-<p>“Wal, I reckon Joe thinks the longest way round
-is the shortest way home,” declared the old stager.
-“Joe never did like them cod-fish swells—but how<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>
-do you ’count fer the style o’ that gal? She wan’t
-like her dad one little bit.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, she’s ben to collidge I ’spose,” declared
-the youth. “They get all that off’n collidge.”</p>
-
-<p>“Serves the old man right fer sendin’ his gal to
-a fool collidge when she ought to a ben home learnin’
-to house-keep. I hope she gits off with her young
-man all right,” said a grim old lounger, and a cackle
-of laughter went round the group, which presently
-broke up, for this had been a strenuous day and
-all felt their need of rest; besides they wanted to
-get home and tell the news before some neighbor got
-ahead of them.</p>
-
-<p>All this time Celia and Gordon were touring
-Milton, serenely unconscious of danger near, or
-guardian angel of the name of Joe.</p>
-
-<p>Investigation disclosed the fact that there was a
-train for Pittsburgh about three in the afternoon.
-Gordon sent a code telegram to his chief, assuring
-him of the safety of the message, and of his own
-intention to proceed to Washington as fast as steam
-could carry him. Then he took the girl to a restaurant,
-where they mounted two high stools, and partook
-with an unusually ravenous appetite of nearly
-everything on the menu—corn soup, roast beef,
-baked trout, stewed tomatoes, cold slaw, custard,
-apple, and mince pies, with a cup of good country<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>
-coffee and real cream—all for twenty-five cents
-apiece.</p>
-
-<p>It was a very merry meal. Celia felt somehow
-as if for the time all memory of the past had been
-taken from her, and she were free to think and act
-happily in the present, without any great problems
-to solve or decisions to make. Just two young
-people off having a good time, they were, at least
-until that afternoon train came.</p>
-
-<p>After their dinner, they took a short walk to a
-tiny park where two white ducks disported themselves
-on a seven-by-nine pond, spanned by a rustic
-bridge where lovers had cut their initials. Gordon
-took out his knife and idly cut C. H. in the rough
-bark of the upper rail, while his companion sat on
-the little board seat and watched him. She was pondering
-over the fact that he had cut her initials, and
-not his own. It would have been like the George of
-old to cut his own and never once think of hers.
-And he had put but one H. Probably he thought of
-her now as Celia Hayne, without the Hathaway, or
-else he was so used to writing her name Celia Hathaway,
-that he was not thinking at all.</p>
-
-<p>Those letters! How they haunted her and clouded
-every bright experience that she fain would have
-grasped and held for a little hour.</p>
-
-<p>They were silent now, while he worked and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>
-she thought. He had finished the C. H., and was cutting
-another C, but instead of making another H,
-he carefully carved out the letter G. What was
-that for? C. G.? Who was C. G.? Oh, how
-stupid! George, of course. He had started a C
-by mistake. But he did not add the expected H. Instead
-he snapped his knife shut, laid his hand over
-the carving, and leaned over the rail.</p>
-
-<p>“Some time, perhaps, we’ll come here again,
-and remember,” he said, and then bethought him
-that he had no right to hope for any such anniversary.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” She looked up into his eyes, startled,
-troubled, the haunting of her fears in the shadows
-of the blue.</p>
-
-<p>He looked down into them and read her trouble,
-read and understood, and looked back his great
-desire to comfort her.</p>
-
-<p>His look carried further than he meant it should.
-For the third time that day a thrill of wonder
-and delight passed over her and left her fearful
-with a strange joy that she felt she should put from
-her.</p>
-
-<p>It was only an instant, that look, but it brought
-the bright color to both faces, and made Gordon
-feel the immediate necessity of changing the subject.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>“See those little fishes down there,” he said
-pointing to the tiny lake below them.</p>
-
-<p>Through a blur of tears, the girl looked down
-and saw the tiny, sharp-finned creatures darting here
-and there in a beam of sun like a small search-light
-set to show them off.</p>
-
-<p>She moved her hand on the rail to lean further
-over, and her soft fingers touched his hand for a
-moment. She would not draw them away quickly,
-lest she hurt him; why, she did not know, but she
-could not—would not—hurt him. Not now! The
-two hands lay side by side for a full minute, and the
-touch to Gordon was as if a roseleaf had kissed his
-soul. He had never felt anything sweeter. He
-longed to gather the little hand into his clasp and
-feel its pulses trembling there as he had felt it in
-the church the night before, but she was not his. He
-might not touch her till she had her choice of what
-to do, and she would never choose him, never, when
-she knew how he had deceived her.</p>
-
-<p>That one supreme moment they had of perfect
-consciousness, consciousness of the drawing of soul
-to soul, of the sweetness of that hovering touch of
-hands, of the longing to know and understand each
-other.</p>
-
-<p>Then a sharp whistle sounded, and a farmer’s
-boy with a new rake and a sack of corn on his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>
-shoulder came sauntering briskly down the road to
-the bridge. Instantly they drew apart, and Celia
-felt that she had been on the verge of disloyalty to
-her true self.</p>
-
-<p>They walked silently back to the station, each
-busy with his own thoughts, each conscious of that
-one moment when the other had come so near.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">There</span> were a lot of people at the station. They
-had been to a family gathering of some sort from
-their remarks, and they talked loudly and much, so
-that the two stood apart—for the seats were all
-occupied—and had no opportunity for conversation,
-save a quiet smiling comment now and then
-upon the chatter about them, or the odd remarks
-they heard.</p>
-
-<p>There had come a constraint upon them, a withdrawing
-of each into his shell, each conscious of
-something that separated. Gordon struggled to prevent
-it, but he seemed helpless. Celia would smile
-in answer to his quiet remarks, but it was a smile
-of distance, such as she had worn early in the morning.
-She had quite found her former standing
-ground, with its fence of prejudice, and she was
-repairing the breaks through which she had gone
-over to the enemy during the day. She was bracing
-herself with dire reminders, and snatches from
-those terrible letters which were written in characters
-of fire in her heart. Never, never, could she
-care for a man who had done what this man had
-done. She had forgotten for a little while those
-terrible things he had said of her dear dead father.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>
-How could she have forgotten for an instant! How
-could she have let her hand lie close to the hand
-that had defiled itself by writing such things!</p>
-
-<p>By the time they were seated in the train, she was
-freezing in her attitude, and poor Gordon sat miserably
-beside her and tried to think what he had done
-to offend her. It was not his fault that her hand had
-lain near his on the rail. She had put it there herself.
-Perhaps she expected him to put his over it,
-to show her that he cared as a bridegroom should
-care—as he did care, in reality, if he only had the
-right. And perhaps she was hurt that he had stood
-coolly and said or done nothing. But he could
-not help it.</p>
-
-<p>Much to Gordon’s relief, the train carried a parlor-car,
-and it happened on this particular day to be
-almost deserted save for a deaf old man with a florid
-complexion and a gold knobbed cane who slumbered
-audibly at the further end from the two chairs
-Gordon selected. He established his companion
-comfortably, disposed of the baggage, and sat down,
-but the girl paid no heed to him. With a sad, set
-face, she stared out of the window, her eyes seeming
-to see nothing. For two hours she sat so, he making
-remarks occasionally, to which she made little or
-no reply, until he lapsed into silence, looking at
-her with troubled eyes. Finally, just as they neared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>
-the outskirts of Pittsburgh, he leaned softly forward
-and touched her coat-sleeve, to attract her
-attention.</p>
-
-<p>“Have I offended—hurt—you in any way?”
-he asked gently. She turned toward him, and her
-eyes were brimming full of tears.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” she said, and her lips were trembling.
-“No, you have been—most—kind—but—but I cannot
-forget <i>those letters</i>!” She ended with a sob
-and put up her handkerchief quickly to stifle it.</p>
-
-<p>“Letters?” he asked helplessly. “What
-letters?”</p>
-
-<p>“The letters you wrote me. All the letters of
-the last five months. I cannot forget them. I can
-<i>never</i> forget them! How could you <i>think</i> I could?”</p>
-
-<p>He looked at her anxiously, not knowing what
-to say, and yet he must say something. The time
-had come when some kind of an understanding, some
-clearing up of facts, must take place. He must go
-cautiously, but he must find out what was the matter.
-He could not see her suffer so. There must
-be some way to let her know that so far as he was
-concerned she need suffer nothing further and that
-he would do all in his power to set her right with
-her world.</p>
-
-<p>But letters! He had written no letters. His face
-lighted up with the swift certainty of one thing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>
-about which he had not dared to be sure. She still
-thought him the man she had intended to marry.
-She was not therefore troubled about that phase of
-the question. It was strange, almost unbelievable,
-but it was true that he personally was not responsible
-for the trouble in her eyes. What trouble she
-might feel when she knew all, he had yet to find out,
-but it was a great relief to be sure of so much. Still,
-something must be said.</p>
-
-<p>“Letters!” he repeated again stupidly, and then
-added with perplexed tone: “Would you mind telling
-me just what it was in the letters that hurt
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>She turned eyes of astonishment on him.</p>
-
-<p>“How can you ask?” she said almost bitterly.
-“You surely must know how terrible they were to
-me! You could not be the man you have seemed
-to be to-day if you did not know what you were
-doing to me in making all those terrible threats.
-You must know how cruel they were.”</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid I don’t understand,” he said earnestly,
-the trouble still most apparent in his eyes,
-“Would you mind being a little more explicit?
-Would you mind telling me exactly what you think
-I wrote you that sounded like a threat?”</p>
-
-<p>He asked the question half hesitatingly, because
-he was not quite sure whether he was justified in thus<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>
-obtaining private information under false pretenses,
-and yet he felt that he must know just what troubled
-her or he could never help her; and he was sure that
-if she knew he was an utter stranger, even a kindly
-one, those gentle lips would never open to inform
-him upon her torturer. As it was she could tell him
-her trouble with a perfectly clear conscience, thinking
-she was telling it to the man who knew all
-about it. But his hesitation about prying into an
-utter stranger’s private affairs even with a good
-motive, gave him an air of troubled dignity, and
-real anxiety to know his fault that puzzled the girl
-more than all that had gone before.</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot understand how you can ask such a
-question, since it has been the constant subject of
-discussion in all our letters!” she replied, sitting up
-with asperity and drying her tears. She was on the
-verge of growing angry with him for his petty, wilful
-misunderstanding of words whose meaning she felt
-he must know well.</p>
-
-<p>“I do ask it,” he said quietly, “and, believe me,
-I have a good motive in doing so.”</p>
-
-<p>She looked at him in surprise. It was impossible
-to be angry with those kindly eyes, even though he
-did persist in a wilful stupidity.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, since you wish it stated once more
-I will tell you,” she declared, the tears welling again<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>
-into her eyes. “You first demanded that I marry
-you—demanded—without any pretense whatever of
-caring for me—with a hidden threat in your demand
-that if I did not, you would bring some dire calamity
-upon me by means that were already in your power.
-You took me for the same foolish little girl whom
-you had delighted to tease for years before you went
-abroad to live. And when I refused you, you told
-me that you could not only take away from my
-mother all the property which she had inherited
-from her brother, by means of a will made just
-before my uncle’s death, and unknown except to his
-lawyer and you; but that you could and would
-blacken my dear dead father’s name and honor, and
-show that every cent that belonged to Mother and
-Jefferson and myself was stolen property. When
-I challenged you to prove any such thing against my
-honored father, you went still further and threatened
-to bring out a terrible story and prove it with
-witnesses who would swear to anything you said.
-You knew my father’s white life, you as much as
-owned your charges were false, and yet you dared
-to send me a letter from a vile creature who pretended
-that she was his first wife, and who said
-she could prove that he had spent much of his time
-in her company. You knew the whole thing was
-a falsehood, but you dared to threaten to make this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>
-known through the newspapers if I did not marry
-you. You realized that I knew that, even though few
-people and no friends would believe such a thing of
-my father, such a report in the papers—false though
-it was—would crush my mother to death. You
-knew that I would give my life to save her, and so
-you had me in your power, as you have me now.
-You have always wanted me in your power, just
-because you love to torture, and now you have me.
-But you cannot make me forget what you have
-done. I have given my life but I cannot give any
-more. If it is not sufficient you will have to do your
-worst.”</p>
-
-<p>She dropped her face into the little wet handkerchief,
-and Gordon sat with white, drawn countenance
-and clenched hands. He was fairly trembling
-with indignation toward the villain who had thus
-dared impose upon this delicate flower of womanhood.
-He longed to search the world over for the
-false bridegroom; and, finding, give him his just
-dues.</p>
-
-<p>And what should he do or say? Dared he tell
-her at once who he was and trust to her kind heart
-to forgive his terrible blunder and keep his secret till
-the message was safely delivered? Dared he? Had
-he any right? No, the secret was not his to divulge
-either for his own benefit or for any other’s. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>
-must keep that to himself. But he must help her
-in some way.</p>
-
-<p>At last he began to speak, scarcely knowing what
-he was about to say:</p>
-
-<p>“It is terrible, <i>terrible</i>, what you have told me.
-To have written such things to one like you—in fact,
-to anyone on earth—seems to me unforgivable. It
-is the most inhuman cruelty I have ever heard of.
-You are fully justified in hating and despising the
-man who wrote such words to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then, why did you write them?” she burst
-forth. “And how can you sit there calmly and
-talk that way about it, as if you had nothing to do
-with the matter?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because I never wrote those letters,” he said,
-looking her steadily, earnestly, in the eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“You never wrote them!” she exclaimed excitedly.
-“You dare to deny it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I dare to deny it.” His voice was quiet, earnest,
-convincing.</p>
-
-<p>She looked at him, dazed, bewildered, indignant,
-sorrowful. “But you cannot deny it,” she said, her
-fragile frame trembling with excitement. “I have
-the letters all in my suit-case. You cannot deny
-your own handwriting. I have the last awful one—the
-one in which you threatened Father’s good name—here
-in my hand-bag. I dared not put it with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>
-rest, and I had no opportunity to destroy it before
-leaving home. I felt as if I must always keep it with
-me, lest otherwise its awful secret would somehow
-get out. There it is. Read it and see your own name
-signed to the words you say you did not write!”</p>
-
-<p>While she talked, her trembling fingers had
-taken a folded, crumpled letter from her little hand-bag,
-and this she reached over and laid upon the
-arm of his chair.</p>
-
-<p>“Read it,” she said. “Read it and see that
-you cannot deny it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I should rather not read it,” he said. “I do
-not need to read it to deny that I ever wrote such
-things to you.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I insist that you read it,” said the girl.</p>
-
-<p>“If you insist I will read it,” he said, taking the
-letter reluctantly and opening it.</p>
-
-<p>She sat watching him furtively through the tears
-while he read, saw the angry flush steal into his
-cheeks as the villainy of a fellow man was revealed
-to him through the brief, coarse, cruel epistle, and
-she mistook the flush for one of shame.</p>
-
-<p>Then his true brown eyes looked up and met her
-tearful gaze steadily, a fine anger burning in them.</p>
-
-<p>“And you think I wrote that!” he said, a something
-in his voice she could not understand.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>“What else could I think? It bears your signature,”
-she answered coldly.</p>
-
-<p>“The letter is vile,” he said, “and the man who
-wrote it is a blackguard, and deserves the utmost that
-the law allows for such offences. With your permission,
-I shall make it my business to see that he gets it.”</p>
-
-<p>“What do you mean?” she said, wide-eyed.
-“How could you punish yourself? You cannot still
-deny that you wrote the letter.”</p>
-
-<p>“I still deny that I wrote it, or ever saw it until
-you handed it to me just now.”</p>
-
-<p>The girl looked at him, nonplussed, more than
-half convinced, in spite of reason.</p>
-
-<p>“But isn’t that your handwriting?”</p>
-
-<p>“It is not. Look!”</p>
-
-<p>He took out his fountain pen, and, holding the
-letter on the arm of her chair, he wrote rapidly in his
-natural hand her own name and address beneath the
-address on the envelope, then held it up to her.</p>
-
-<p>“Do they look alike?”</p>
-
-<p>The two writings were as utterly unlike as possible,
-the letter being addressed in an almost unreadable
-scrawl, and the fresh writing standing fine and
-clear, in a script that spoke of character and business
-ability. Even a child could see at a glance that the
-two were not written by the same hand—and yet
-of course, it might have been practised for the purpose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>
-of deception. This thought flashed through
-the minds of both even as he held it out for her
-to look.</p>
-
-<p>She looked from the envelope to his eyes and back
-to the letter, startled, not knowing what to think.</p>
-
-<p>But before either of them had time for another
-word the conductor, the porter, and several people
-from the car behind came hurriedly through, and
-they realized that while they talked the train had
-come to a halt, amid the blazing electric lights of
-a great city station.</p>
-
-<p>“Why,” said Gordon, startled, “we must have
-reached Pittsburgh. Is this Pittsburgh?” he called
-out to the vanishing porter.</p>
-
-<p>“Yas sah!” yelled the porter, putting his head
-around the curve of the passageway. “You bettah
-hurry sah, foh dis train goes on to Cincinnati pretty
-quick. We’s late gittin’ in you see.”</p>
-
-<p>Neither of them had noticed a man in rough
-clothes with slouch hat and hands in his pockets
-who had boarded the train a few miles back and
-walked through the car several times eyeing them
-keenly. He stuck his head in at the door now furtively
-and drew back quickly again out of sight.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon hurriedly gathered up the baggage, and
-they went out of the car, the porter rushing back as
-they reached the door, to assist them and get a last<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>
-tip. There was no opportunity to say anything more,
-as they mingled with the crowd, until the porter
-landed their baggage in the great station and hurried
-back to his train. The man with the slouch hat followed
-and stood unobtrusively behind them.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon looked down at the white, drawn face
-of the girl, and his heart was touched with compassion
-for her trouble. He must make her some satisfactory
-explanation at once that would set her heart
-at rest, but he could not do it here, for every seat
-about them was filled with noisy chattering folk. He
-stooped and whispered low and tenderly:</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t worry, little girl! Just try to trust me,
-and I will explain it all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Can you explain it?” she asked anxiously, as
-if catching at a rope thrown out to save her life.</p>
-
-<p>“Perfectly,” he said, “if you will be patient and
-trust me. But we cannot talk here. Just wait in this
-seat until I see if I can get the stateroom on the
-sleeper.”</p>
-
-<p>He left her with his courteous bow, and she sat
-watching his tall, fine figure as he threaded his way
-among the crowds to the Pullman window, her heart
-filled with mingling emotions. In spite of her
-reason, a tiny bit of hope for the future was springing
-up in her heart and without her own will she
-found herself inclined to trust him. At least it was
-all she could do at present.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Back</span> at Milton an hour before, when the shades
-of dusk were falling and a slender moon hung
-timidly on the edge of the horizon, a horse drawing
-a spring wagon ambled deliberately into town and
-came to a reluctant halt beside the railroad station,
-having made a wide détour through the larger part
-of the county on the way to that metropolis.</p>
-
-<p>The sun had been hot, the road much of it rough,
-and the jolts over stones and bumps had not added
-to the comfort of the thick-set man, already bruised
-and weary from his travels. Joe’s conversation had
-not ceased. He had given his guest a wide range
-of topics, discoursing learnedly on the buckwheat
-crop and the blight that might be expected to assail
-the cherry trees. He pointed out certain portions
-of land infested with rattlesnakes, and told blood-curdling
-stories of experiences with stray bears
-and wild cats in a maple grove through which they
-passed till the passenger looked furtively behind
-him and urged the driver to hurry a little faster.</p>
-
-<p>Joe, seeing his gullibility, only made his stories
-of country life the bigger, for the thick-set man,
-though bold as a lion in his own city haunts, was a
-coward in the unknown world of the country.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>When the traveler looking at his watch urged
-Joe to make haste and asked how many miles further
-Milton was, Joe managed it that the horse should
-stumble on a particularly stony bit of road. Then
-getting down gravely from the wagon he examined
-the horse’s feet each in turn, shaking his head sadly
-over the left fore foot.</p>
-
-<p>“Jes’ ’z I ’sposed,” he meditated dreamily.
-“Stone bruise! Lame horse! Don’t believe I ought
-to go on. Sorry, but it’ll be the ruination of the
-horse. You ain’t in a hurry I hope.”</p>
-
-<p>The passenger in great excitement promised to
-double the fare if the young man would get another
-horse and hurry him forward, and after great professions
-of doubt Joe gave in and said he would try
-the horse, but it wouldn’t do to work him hard.
-They would have to let him take his time. He
-couldn’t on any account leave the horse behind anywhere
-and get a fresh one because it belonged to his
-best friend and he promised to bring it back safe and
-sound. They would just take their time and go
-slow and see if the horse could stand it. He wouldn’t
-think of trying it if it weren’t for the extra money
-which he needed.</p>
-
-<p>So the impatient traveler was dragged fuming
-along weary hour after weary hour through the
-monotonous glory of a spring afternoon of which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>
-he saw nothing but the dust of the road as he tried
-to count the endless miles. Every mile or two Joe
-would descend from the wagon seat and fuss around
-the horse’s leg, the horse nothing loth at such unprecedented
-attention dozing cozily by the roadside
-during the process. And so was the traveler brought
-to his destination ten minutes after the last train that
-stopped at Milton that night had passed the station.</p>
-
-<p>The telegraph office was not closed however, and
-without waiting to haggle, the passenger paid his
-thirty dollars for the longest journey he ever took,
-and disappeared into the station, while Joe, whipping
-up his petted animal, and whistling cheerily:</p>
-
-<p class="center">“Where did you get that girl—?”</p>
-
-<p>went rattling down the short cut from Milton
-home at a surprising pace for a lame horse. He
-was eating his supper at home in a little more than
-an hour, and the horse seemed to have miraculously
-recovered from his stone bruise. Joe was wondering
-how his girl would look in a hat with purple
-plumes, and thinking of his thirty dollars with a
-chuckle.</p>
-
-<p>It was surprising how much that thick-set man,
-weary and desperate though he was, could accomplish,
-when once he reached the telegraph station
-and sent his messages flying on their way. In less<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>
-than three minutes after his arrival he had extracted
-from the station agent the fact that two people, man
-and woman, answering the description he gave, had
-bought tickets for Pittsburgh and taken the afternoon
-train for that city. The agent had noticed
-them on account of their looking as if they came
-from the city. He especially noticed the purple
-plumes, the like of which he had never seen before.
-He had taken every minute he could get off from
-selling tickets and sending telegrams to watch the
-lady through his little cobwebby window. They
-didn’t wear hats like that in Milton.</p>
-
-<p>In ten minutes one message was on its way to
-a crony in Pittsburgh with whom the thick-set man
-kept in constant touch for just such occasions as
-the present, stirring him to strenuous action; another
-message had winged its mysterious way to Mr.
-Holman, giving him the main facts in the case; while
-a third message caught another crony thirty miles
-north of Pittsburgh and ordered him to board the
-evening express at his own station, hunt up the
-parties described, and shadow them to their destination,
-if possible getting in touch with the Pittsburgh
-crony when he reached the city.</p>
-
-<p>The pursuer then ate a ham sandwich with
-liberal washings of liquid fire while he awaited replies
-to some of his messages; and as soon as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>
-was satisfied that he had set justice in motion he
-hired an automobile and hied him across country
-to catch a midnight express to Pittsburgh. He had
-given orders that his man and accompanying lady
-should be held in Pittsburgh until his arrival, and
-he had no doubt but that the orders would be carried
-out, so sure was he that he was on the right
-track, and that his cronies would be able and willing
-to follow his orders.</p>
-
-<p>There was some kind of an excursion on at
-Pittsburgh, and the place was crowded. The trainmen
-kept calling off specials, and crowds hurried
-out of the waiting room, only to be replaced by other
-crowds, all eager, pushing, talking, laughing. They
-were mostly men, but a good many women and some
-children seemed to be of the number; and the noise
-and excitement worried her after her own exciting
-afternoon. Celia longed to lay her down and sleep,
-but the seat was narrow, and hard, and people were
-pressing on every side. That disagreeable man in
-the slouch hat would stand too near. He was most
-repulsive looking, though he did not seem to be
-aware of her presence.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had a long wait before he finally secured
-the coveted stateroom and started back to her,
-when suddenly a face that he knew loomed up in
-the crowd and startled him. It was the face of a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>
-private detective who was well known about Washington,
-but whose headquarters were in New York.</p>
-
-<p>Until that instant, it had not occurred to him to
-fear watchers so far south and west as Pittsburgh.
-It was not possible that the other bridegroom would
-think to track him here, and, as for the Holman contingent,
-they would not be likely to make a public
-disturbance about his disappearance, lest they be
-found to have some connection with the first theft
-of government property. They could have watchers
-only through private means, and they must have
-been wily indeed if they had anticipated his move
-through Pittsburgh to Washington. Still, it was the
-natural move for him to make in order to get home
-as quickly as possible and yet escape them. And
-this man in the crowd was the very one whom they
-would have been likely to pick out for their work.
-He was as slippery in his dealings as they must be,
-and no doubt was in league with them. He knew
-the man and his ways thoroughly, and had no mind
-to fall into his hands.</p>
-
-<p>Whether he had been seen by the detective yet
-or not, he could not tell, but he suspected he had, by
-the way the man stood around and avoided recognizing
-him. There was not an instant to be lost.
-The fine stateroom must go untenanted. He must
-make a dash for liberty. Liberty! Ah, East Liberty!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>
-what queer things these brains of ours are! He
-knew Pittsburgh just a little. He remembered
-having caught a train at East Liberty Station once
-when he had not time to come down to the station
-to take it. Perhaps he might get the same train at
-East Liberty. It was nearly two hours before it
-left.</p>
-
-<p>Swooping down upon the baggage, he murmured
-in the girl’s ear:</p>
-
-<p>“Can you hurry a little? We must catch a car
-right away.”</p>
-
-<p>She followed him closely through the crowd, he
-stooping as if to look down at his suit-case, so that
-his height might not attract the attention of the
-man whose recognition he feared, and in a moment
-more they were out in the lighted blackness of the
-streets. One glance backward showed his supposed
-enemy stretching his neck above the crowd, as if
-searching for some one, as he walked hurriedly toward
-the very doorway they had just passed. Behind
-them shadowed the man in the slouch hat, and
-with a curious motion of his hand signalled another
-like himself, the Pittsburgh crony, who skulked in
-the darkness outside. Instantly this man gave another
-signal and out of the gloom of the street a
-carriage drew up at the curb before the door, the
-cabman looking eagerly for patronage.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>Gordon put both suit-cases in one hand and taking
-Celia’s arm as gently as he could in his haste hurried
-her toward the carriage. It was the very refuge
-he sought. He placed her inside and gave the order
-for East Liberty Station, drawing a long breath of
-relief at being safely out of the station. He
-did not see the shabby one who mounted the box
-beside the driver and gave his directions in guttural
-whispers, nor the man with the slouch hat who
-watched from the doorway and followed them
-to a familiar haunt on the nearest car. He only
-felt how good it was to be by themselves once more
-where they could talk together without interruption.</p>
-
-<p>But conversation was not easy under the circumstances.
-The noise of wagons, trains and cars was
-so great at the station that they could think of
-nothing but the din, and when they had threaded
-their way out of the tangle and started rattling over
-the pavement the driver went at such a furious pace
-that they could still only converse by shouting and
-that not at all satisfactorily. It seemed a strange
-thing that any cabman should drive at such a rapid
-rate within the city limits, but as Gordon was anxious
-to get away from the station and the keen-eyed
-detective as fast as possible he thought nothing of
-it at first. After a shouted word or two they ceased
-to try to talk, and Gordon, half shyly, reached out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>
-a reassuring hand and laid it on the girl’s shrinking
-one that lay in her lap. He had not meant to keep
-it there but a second, just to make her understand
-that all was well, and he would soon be able to explain
-things, but as she did not seem to resent it,
-nor draw her own away, he yielded to the temptation
-and kept the small gloved hand in his.</p>
-
-<p>The carriage rattled on, bumpety-bump, over
-rough places, around corners, tilting now and then
-sideways, and Celia, half-frightened, was forced to
-cling to her protector to keep from being thrown on
-the floor of the cab.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, are we running away?” she breathed awesomely
-into his ear.</p>
-
-<p>“I think not,—dear,” he answered back, the
-last word inaudible. “The driver thinks we are in
-a hurry but he has no need to go at this furious
-pace. I will tell him.”</p>
-
-<p>He leaned forward and tapped on the glass, but
-the driver paid no attention whatever save perhaps
-to drive faster. Could it be that he had lost control
-of his horse and could not stop, or hadn’t he
-heard? Gordon tried again, and accompanied the
-knocking this time with a shout, but all to no purpose.
-The cab rattled steadily on. Gordon discovered
-now that there were two men on the box instead
-of one, and a sudden premonition sent a thrill of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>
-alarm through him. What if after all the presence
-of that detective had been a warning, and he unheeding
-had walked into a trap? What a fool he
-had been to get into a carriage where he was at the
-mercy of the driver. He ought to have stayed in
-open places where kidnapping would be impossible.
-Now that he had thought of it he felt convinced that
-this was just what the enemy would try to do,—kidnap
-him. The more fruitless he found his efforts
-to make the driver hear him the more he felt convinced
-that something was wrong. He tried to
-open the door next him and found it stuck. He
-put all his strength forth to turn the catch but it held
-fast. Then a cold sweat stood out upon him and
-horror filled his mind. His commission with its
-large significance to the country was in imminent
-jeopardy. His own life was in all probability hanging
-in the balance, but most of all he felt the awful
-peril of the sweet girl by his side. What terrible experiences
-might be hers within the next hour if his
-brain and right arm could not protect her. Instinctively
-his hand went to the pocket where he had kept
-his revolver ready since ever he had left Washington.
-Danger should not find him utterly unprepared.</p>
-
-<p>He realized, too, that it was entirely possible,
-that his alarms were unfounded; that the driver was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>
-really taking them to the East Liberty station; that
-the door merely stuck, and he was needlessly anxious.
-He must keep a steady head and not let his
-companion see that he was nervous. The first thing
-was to find out if possible where they really were, but
-that was a difficult task. The street over which they
-rattled was utterly dark with the gloom of a smoky
-city added to the night. There were no street lights
-except at wide intervals, and the buildings appeared
-to be blank walls of darkness, probably great warehouses.
-The way was narrow, and entirely unknown.
-Gordon could not tell if he had ever been
-there before. He was sure from his knowledge of
-the stations that they had gone much farther than
-to East Liberty, and the darkness and loneliness of
-the region through which they were passing filled
-him again with a vague alarm. It occurred to him
-that he might be able to get the window sash down
-and speak to the driver, and he struggled with the one
-on his own side for a while, with little result, for it
-seemed to have been plugged up with wads of paper
-all around. This fact renewed his anxiety. It began
-to look as if there was intention in sealing up
-that carriage. He leaned over and felt around the
-sash of the opposite door and found the paper wads
-there also. There certainly was intention. Not to
-alarm Celia he straightened back and went to work<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>
-again at his own window sash cautiously pulling out
-the paper until at last he could let down the glass.</p>
-
-<p>A rush of dank air rewarded his efforts, and the
-girl drew a breath of relief. Gordon never knew
-how near she had been to fainting at that moment.
-She was sitting perfectly quiet in her corner watching
-him, her fears kept to herself, though her heart
-was beating wildly. She was convinced that the
-horse was running away.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon leaned his head out of the window, but
-immediately he caught the gleam of a revolver in
-a hand that hung at the side of the driver’s box,
-pointed downward straight toward his face as if
-with intention to be ready in case of need. The
-owner of the hand was not looking toward him, but
-was talking in muffled tones to the driver. They
-evidently had not heard the window let down, but
-were ready for the first sign of an attempt on the
-part of their victims to escape.</p>
-
-<p>Quietly Gordon drew in his head speculating
-rapidly on the possibility of wrenching that revolver
-out of its owner’s hand. He could do it from where
-he sat, but would it be wise? They were probably
-locked in a trap, and the driver was very likely armed
-also. What chance would he have to save Celia if
-he brought on a desperate fight at this point? If he
-were alone he might knock that revolver out of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>
-man’s hand and spring from the window, taking his
-chance of getting away, but now he had Celia to
-think of and the case was different. Not for a universe
-of governments could he leave a woman in
-such desperate straits. She must be considered first
-even ahead of the message. This was life and death.</p>
-
-<p>He wondered at his own coolness as he sat back
-in the carriage and quietly lifted the glass frame
-back into place. Then he laid a steady hand on
-Celia’s again and stooping close whispered into her
-ear:</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid there’s something wrong with our
-driver. Can you be a little brave,—dear?” He
-did not know he had used the last word this time,
-but it thrilled into the girl’s heart with a sudden
-accession of trust.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes,” she breathed close to his face. “You
-don’t think he has been drinking, do you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, perhaps,” said Gordon relieved at the
-explanation. “But keep calm. I think we can get
-out of this all right. Suppose you change seats with
-me and let me try if that door will open easily. We
-might want to get out in a hurry in case he slows up
-somewhere pretty soon.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia quietly and swiftly slipped into Gordon’s
-seat and he applied himself with all his strength and
-ingenuity gently manipulating the latch and pressing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>
-his shoulder against the door, until at last to his joy
-it gave way reluctantly and he found that it would
-swing open. He had worked carefully, else the
-sudden giving of the latch would have thrown him
-out of the carriage and given instant alarm to his
-driver. He was so thoroughly convinced by this
-time that he was being kidnapped, perhaps to be
-murdered, that every sense was on the alert. It was
-his characteristic to be exceedingly cool during a
-crisis. It was the quality that the keen-eyed chief
-had valued most in him, and the final reason why he
-had been selected for this difficult task in place of
-an older and more experienced man who at times
-lost his head.</p>
-
-<p>The door to the outside world being open Gordon
-cautiously took a survey of the enemy from that
-side. There was no gleaming weapon here. The
-man set grimly enough, laying on the whip and muttering
-curses to his bony horse who galloped recklessly
-on as if partaking of the desperate desires of
-his master. In the distance Gordon could hear the
-rumbling of an oncoming train. The street was
-still dark and scarcely a vehicle or person to be seen.
-There seemed no help at hand, and no opportunity
-to get out, for they were still rushing at a tremendous
-pace. An attempt to jump now would very
-likely result in broken limbs, which would only leave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>
-them in a worse plight than they were. He slipped
-back to his own seat and put Celia next to the free
-door again. She must be where she could get out
-first if the opportunity presented itself. Also, he
-must manage to throw out the suit-cases if possible
-on account of the letters and valuables they contained.</p>
-
-<p>Instinctively his hand sought Celia’s in the darkness
-again, and hers nestled into it in a frightened
-way as if his strength gave her comfort.</p>
-
-<p>Then, before they could speak or realize, there
-came the rushing sound of a train almost upon them
-and the cab came to a halt with a jerk, the driver
-pulling the horse far back on his haunches to stop
-him. The shock almost threw Celia to the floor,
-but Gordon’s arm about her steadied her, and instantly
-he was on the alert.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Glancing</span> through the window he saw that they
-were in front of a railroad track upon which a long
-freight train was rushing madly along at a giddy
-pace for a mere freight. The driver had evidently
-hoped to pass this point before the train got there,
-but had failed. The train had an exultant sound as
-if it knew and had outwitted the driver.</p>
-
-<p>On one side of the street were high buildings and
-on the other a great lumber yard, between which
-and their carriage there stood a team of horses
-hitched to a covered wagon, from the back of which
-some boards protruded, and this was on the side next
-to Celia where the door would open! Gordon’s
-heart leaped up with hope and wonder over the
-miracle of their opportunity. The best thing about
-their situation was that their driver had stopped
-just a little back of the covered wagon, so that their
-door would open to the street directly behind the
-covered wagon. It made it possible for the carriage
-door to swing wide and for them to slip across
-behind the wagon without getting too near to the
-driver. Nothing could have been better arranged
-for their escape and the clatter of the empty freight
-cars drowned all sounds.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>Without delay Gordon softly unlatched the door
-and swung it open whispering to Celia:</p>
-
-<p>“Go! Quick! Over there by the fence in the
-shadow. Don’t look around nor speak! Quick!
-I’ll come!”</p>
-
-<p>Trembling in every limb yet with brave starry
-eyes Celia slipped like a wraith from the carriage,
-stole behind the boards and melted into the shadow
-of the great fence of the lumber yard, her purple
-plumes mere depths of shadow against the smoky
-planks. Gordon, grasping the suit-cases, moved instantly
-after her, deftly and silently closing the carriage
-door and dropping into the shadows behind
-the big wagon, scarcely able to believe as yet that
-they had really escaped.</p>
-
-<p>Ten feet back along the sidewalk was a gateway,
-the posts being tall and thick. The gate itself was
-closed but it hung a few inches inside the line of the
-fence, and into this depression the two stepped softly
-and stood, flattening themselves back against the
-gate as closely as possible, scarcely daring to breathe,
-while the long freight clattered and rambled its way
-by like a lot of jolly washerwomen running and
-laughing in a line and spatting their tired noisy feet
-as they went; then the vehicles impatiently took up
-their onward course. Gordon saw the driver look
-down at the window below him and glance back<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>
-hastily over his shoulder, and the man on the other
-side of the box, looked down on his side. The glitter
-of something in his hand shone for an instant in the
-glare of the signal light over the track. Then the
-horse lurched forward and the cab began its crazy
-gait over the track and up the cobbled street. They
-had started onward without getting down to look
-in the carriage and see if all were safe with their
-prisoners, and they had not even looked back to see
-if they had escaped. They evidently trusted in the
-means they had used to lock the carriage doors, and
-had heard no sounds of their escaping. It was incredible,
-but it was true. Gordon drew a long
-breath of relief and relaxed from his strained position.
-The next thing was to get out of that neighborhood
-as swiftly as possible before those men
-had time to discover that their birds had flown.
-They would of course know at once where their
-departure had taken place and come back swiftly
-to search for them, with perhaps more men to help;
-and a second time escape would be impossible.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon snatched up the suit-cases with one hand,
-and with the other drew Celia’s arm within his.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, we must hurry with all our might,” he
-said softly. “Are you all right?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.” Her breath was coming in a sob, but her
-eyes were shining bravely.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>“Poor child!” his voice was very tender.
-“Were you much frightened?”</p>
-
-<p>“A little,” she answered more bravely now.</p>
-
-<p>“I shall have hard work to forgive myself for
-all this,” he said tenderly. “But we mustn’t talk.
-We have to get out of this quickly or they may come
-back after us. Lean on me and walk as fast as you
-can.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia bent her efforts to take long springing
-strides, and together they fairly skimmed the pavements,
-turning first this corner, then that, in the
-general direction from which Gordon thought they
-had come, until at last, three blocks away they
-caught the welcome whirr of a trolley, and breathless,
-flew onward, just catching a car. They cared
-not where it went so that they were safe in a bright
-light with other people. No diamonds on any gentleman’s
-neckscarf ever shone to Celia’s eyes with
-so friendly a welcome as the dull brass buttons on
-that trolley conductor’s coat as he rang up their
-fares and answered Gordon’s questions about how
-to get to East Liberty station; and their pleasant
-homely gleam almost were her undoing, for now
-that they were safe at last the tears would come to
-her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon watched her lovingly, tenderly, glad
-that she did not know how terrible had been her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>
-danger. His heart was still beating wildly with the
-thought of their marvellous escape, and his own
-present responsibility. He must run no further
-risks. They would keep to crowded trolleys, and
-trust to hiding in the open. The main thing was to
-get out of the city on the first train they could manage
-to board.</p>
-
-<p>When they reached East Liberty station a long
-train was just coming in, all sleepers, and they
-could hear the echo of a stentorian voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Special for Harrisburg, Baltimore and Washington!
-All aboard!” and up at the further end of
-the platform Gordon saw the lank form of the detective
-whom he had tried to avoid an hour before
-at the other station.</p>
-
-<p>Without taking time for thought he hurried
-Celia forward and they sprang breathlessly aboard.
-Not until they were fairly in the cars and the wheels
-moving under them did it occur to him that his companion
-had had nothing to eat since about twelve
-o’clock. She must be famished, and in a fair way to
-be ill again. What a fool he was not to have thought!
-They could have stopped in some obscure restaurant
-along the way as well as not, and taken a later train,
-and yet it was safer to get away at once. Without
-doubt there were watchers at East Liberty, too, and
-he was lucky to have got on the train without a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>
-challenge. He was sure that detective’s face lighted
-strangely as he looked his way. Perhaps there was a
-buffet attached to the train. At least, he would investigate.
-If there wasn’t, they must get off at the
-next stop—there must be another stop surely somewhere
-near the city—he could not remember, but
-there surely must be.</p>
-
-<p>They had to wait some time to get the attention
-of the conductor. He was having much trouble with
-some disgruntled passengers who each claimed to
-have the same berth. Gordon finally got his ear,
-and showing his stateroom tickets inquired if they
-could be used on this train.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” growled the worried conductor.
-“You’re on the wrong train. This is a special, and
-every berth in the train is taken now but one upper.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then, we’ll have to get off at the next stop, I
-suppose, and take the other train,” said Gordon dismally.</p>
-
-<p>“There isn’t any other stop till somewhere in
-the middle of the night. I tell you this is a special,
-and we’re scheduled to go straight through. East
-Liberty’s the last stop.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then what shall we do?” asked Gordon inanely.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m sure I don’t know,” snapped the conductor.
-“I’ve enough to do without mending other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>
-people’s mistakes. Stay aboard, I suppose, unless
-you want to jump off and commit suicide.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I have a lady with me who isn’t at all
-well,” said Gordon, with dignity.</p>
-
-<p>“So much the worse for the lady,” replied the
-conductor inhumanly. “There’s one upper berth,
-I told you.”</p>
-
-<p>“An upper berth wouldn’t do for her,” said
-Gordon decidedly. “She isn’t well, I tell you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Suit yourself!” snapped the harassed official.
-“I reckon it’s better than nothing. You may not
-have it long. I’m likely to be asked for it the next
-half minute.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is that so? And is there absolutely nothing
-else?”</p>
-
-<p>“Young man, I can’t waste words on you. I
-haven’t time. Take it or let it alone. It’s all one to
-me. There’s some standing room left in the day-coach,
-perhaps.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll take it,” said Gordon meekly, wishing he
-could go back and undo the last half-hour. How in
-the world was he to go and tell Celia that he could
-provide her nothing better than an upper berth?</p>
-
-<p>She was sitting with her back to him, her face
-resting wearily on her hand against the window.
-Two men with largely checked suits, big seal rings,
-and diamond scarf-pins sat in the opposite seat. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>
-knew it was most unpleasant for her. A nondescript
-woman with a very large hat and thick powder on
-her face shared Celia’s seat. He reflected that
-“specials” did not always bear a select company.</p>
-
-<p>“Is there nothing you can do?” he pleaded with
-the conductor, as he took the bit of pasteboard entitling
-him to the last vacant berth. “Don’t you
-suppose you could get some man to change and give
-her a lower berth? It’ll be very hard for her. She
-isn’t used to upper berths.”</p>
-
-<p>His eyes rested wistfully on the bowed head.
-Celia had taken off her plumed hat, and the fitful
-light of the car played with the gold of her hair.
-The conductor’s grim eye softened as he looked.</p>
-
-<p>“That the lady? I’ll see what I can do,” he said
-briefly, and stumped off to the next car. The miracle
-of her presence had worked its change upon him.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon went over to Celia and told her in a low
-tone that he hoped to have arrangements made for
-her soon, so that she could be comfortable. She
-must be fearfully tired with the excitement and
-fright and hurry. He added that he had made a
-great blunder in getting on this train, and now there
-was no chance to get off for several hours, perhaps,
-and probably no supper to be had.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, it doesn’t matter in the least,” said Celia
-wearily. “I’m not at all hungry.” She almost<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>
-smiled when she said it. He knew that what she
-wanted was to have her mind relieved about the
-letters. But she readily saw that there was no opportunity
-now.</p>
-
-<p>She even seemed sorry at his troubled look, and
-tried to smile again through the settled sadness in
-her eyes. He could see she was very weary, and he
-felt like a great brute in care of a child, and mentally
-berated himself for his own thoughtlessness.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon started off to search for something to
-eat for her, and was more successful than he had
-dared hope. The newsboy had two chicken sandwiches
-left, and these, with the addition of a fine
-orange, a box of chocolates, and a glass of ice-water,
-he presently brought to her, and was rewarded by a
-smile this time, almost as warm and intimate as those
-she had given him during their beautiful day.</p>
-
-<p>But he could not sit beside her, for the places
-were all taken, and he could not stand in the aisle
-and talk, for the porter was constantly running back
-and forth making up the berths. There seemed to
-be a congested state of things in the whole train,
-every seat being full and men standing in the aisles.
-He noticed now that they all wore badges of some
-fraternal order. It was doubtless a delegation to
-some great convention, upon which they had intruded.
-They were a good-natured, noisy, happy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>
-crowd, but not anywhere among them was to be
-found a quiet spot where he and Celia could go on
-with their suddenly interrupted conversation. Presently
-the conductor came to him and said he had
-found a gentleman who would give the lady his
-lower berth and take her upper one. It was already
-made up, and the lady might take possession at once.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon made the exchange of tickets, and immediately
-escorted Celia to it. He found her most glad
-to go for she was now unutterably weary, and was
-longing to get away from the light and noise about
-her.</p>
-
-<p>He led the way with the suit-cases, hoping that
-in the other car there would be some spot where
-they could talk for a few minutes. But he was disappointed.
-It was even fuller than in the first car.
-He arranged everything for her comfort as far as
-possible, disposed of her hat and fixed her suit-case
-so that she could open it, but even while he was doing
-it there were people crowding by, and no private
-conversation could be had. He stepped back when
-all was arranged and held the curtain aside that she
-might sit on the edge of her berth. Then stooping
-over he whispered:</p>
-
-<p>“Try to trust me until morning. I’ll explain it
-all to you then, so that you will understand how I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>
-have had nothing to do with those letters. Forget
-it, and try to rest. Will you?”</p>
-
-<p>His tone was wistful. He had never wanted to
-do anything so much in all his life as to stoop and
-kiss those sweet lips, and the lovely eyes that looked
-up at him out of the dusky shadows of the berth,
-filled with fear and longing. They looked more
-than ever like the blue tired flowers that drooped
-from her gown wearily. But he held himself with
-a firm hand. She was not his to kiss. When she
-knew how he had deceived her, she would probably
-never give him the right to kiss her.</p>
-
-<p>“I will try,” she murmured in answer to his
-question, and then added: “But where will you
-be? Is your berth nearby?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not far away—that is, I had to take a place in
-another car, they are so crowded.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she said a little anxiously. “Are you
-sure you have a good comfortable place?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes, I shall be all right,” he answered joyously.
-It was so wonderful to have her care whether
-he was comfortable or not.</p>
-
-<p>The porter was making up the opposite berth,
-and there was no room to stand longer, so he bade
-her good night, she putting out her hand for a farewell.
-For an instant he held it close, with gentle
-pressure, as if to reassure her, then he went away<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>
-to the day-coach, and settled down into a hard
-corner at the very back of the car, drawing his travelling
-cap over his eyes, and letting his heart beat
-out wild joy over that little touch of her dear hand.
-Wave after wave of sweetness went over him, thrilling
-his very soul with a joy he had never known
-before.</p>
-
-<p>And this was love! And what kind of a wretch
-was he, presuming to love like this a woman who
-was the promised bride of another man! Ah, but
-such a man! A villain! A brute, who had used his
-power over her to make her suffer tortures! Had
-a man like that a right to claim her? His whole
-being answered “no.”</p>
-
-<p>Then the memory of the look in her eyes, the
-turn of her head, the soft touch of her fingers as
-they lay for that instant in his, the inflection of
-her voice, would send that wave of sweetness over
-his senses, his heart would thrill anew, and he would
-forget the wretch who stood between him and this
-lovely girl whom he knew now he loved as he had
-never dreamed a man could love.</p>
-
-<p>Gradually his mind steadied itself under the
-sweet intoxication, and he began to wonder just
-what he should say to her in the morning. It was
-a good thing he had not had further opportunity to
-talk with her that night, for he could not have told<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>
-her everything; and now if all went well they would
-be in Washington in the morning, and he might
-make some excuse till after he had delivered his
-message. Then he would be free to tell the whole
-story, and lay his case before her for decision. His
-heart throbbed with ecstasy as he thought of the
-possibility of her forgiving him, and yet it seemed
-most unlikely. Sometimes he would let his wild
-longings fancy for just an instant what joy it would
-be if she could be induced to let the marriage stand.
-But he told himself at the same time that that could
-never be. It was very likely that there was some one
-else in New York to whom her heart would
-turn if she were free from the scoundrel who had
-threatened her into a compulsory marriage. He
-would promise to help her, protect her, defend her
-from the man who was evidently using blackmail
-to get her into his power for some purpose; most
-likely for the sake of having control of her property.
-At least it would be some comfort to be able to help
-her out of her trouble. And yet, would she ever trust
-a man who had even unwittingly allowed her to be
-bound by the sacred tie of marriage to an utter
-stranger?</p>
-
-<p>And thus, amid hope and fear, the night whirled
-itself away. Forward in the sleeper the girl lay wide
-awake for a long time. In the middle of the night<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>
-a thought suddenly evolved itself out of the blackness
-of her curtained couch. She sat upright alertly
-and stared into the darkness, as if it were a thing
-that she could catch and handle and examine. The
-thought was born out of a dreamy vision of the crisp
-brown waves, almost curls if they had not been so
-short and thick, that covered the head of the man
-who had lain sleeping outside her curtains in the
-early morning. It came to her with sudden force
-that not so had been the hair of the boy George
-Hayne, who used to trouble her girlish days. His
-was thin and black and oily, collecting naturally into
-little isolated strings with the least warmth, and
-giving him the appearance of a kitten who had been
-out in the rain. One lock, how well she remembered
-that lock!—one lock on the very crown of his head
-had always refused to lie down, no matter how
-much persuasion was brought to bear upon it. It
-had been the one point on which the self-satisfied
-George had been pregnable, his hair, that scalp lock
-that would always arise stiffly, oilily, from the top
-of his head. The hair she had looked at admiringly
-that morning in the dawning crimson of the rising
-sun had not been that way. It had curved clingingly
-to the shape of the fine head as if it loved to
-go that way. It was beautiful and fine and burnished
-with a sense of life and vigor in its every wave.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>
-Could hair change in ten years? Could it grow
-brown where it had been black? Could it become
-glossy instead of dull and oily? Could it take on the
-signs of natural wave where it had been as straight
-as a die? Could it grow like fur where it had been
-so thin?</p>
-
-<p>The girl could not solve the problem, but the
-thought was most startling and brought with it many
-suggestive possibilities that were most disturbing.
-Yet gradually out of the darkness she drew a sort
-of comfort in her dawning enlightenment. Two
-things she had to go on in her strange premises, he
-had said he did not write the letters, and his hair
-was not the same. Who then was he? Her husband
-now undoubtedly, but who? And if deeds and
-hair could change so materially, why not spirits? At
-least he was not the same as she had feared and
-dreaded. There was so much comfort.</p>
-
-<p>And at last she lay down and slept.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">They</span> were late coming into Washington, for the
-Special had been sidetracked in the night for several
-express trains, and the noisy crowd who had kept
-one another awake till after midnight made up by
-sleeping far into the morning.</p>
-
-<p>Three times did Gordon make the journey three
-cars front to see if his companion of yesterday were
-awake and needed anything, but each time found
-the curtains drawn and still, and each time he went
-slowly back again to his seat in the crowded day-coach.</p>
-
-<p>It was not until the white dome of the capitol,
-and the tall needle of the monument, were painted
-soft and vision-like against the sky, reminding one
-of the pictures of the heavenly city in the story of
-Pilgrim’s Progress, and faintly suggesting a new
-and visionary world, that he sought her again, and
-found her fully ready, standing in the aisle while
-the porter put up the berth out of the way. Beneath
-the great brim of her purple hat, where the soft
-fronds of her plumes trembled with the motion of
-the train, she lifted sweet eyes to him, as if she were
-both glad and frightened to see him. And then that
-ecstasy shot through him again, as he realized suddenly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>
-what it would be to have her for his life-companion,
-to feel her looks of gladness were all for
-him, and have the right to take all fright away from
-her.</p>
-
-<p>They could only smile at each other for good-morning,
-for everybody was standing up and being
-brushed, and pushing here and there for suit-cases
-and lost umbrellas; and everybody talked loudly,
-and laughed a great deal, and told how late the train
-was. Then at last they were there, and could get
-out and walk silently side by side in the noisy procession
-through the station to the sidewalk.</p>
-
-<p>What little things sometimes change a lifetime,
-and make for our safety or our destruction! That
-very morning three keen watchers were set to guard
-that station at Washington to hunt out the government
-spy who had stolen back the stolen message,
-and take him, message and all, dead or alive, back
-to New York; for the man who could testify against
-the Holman Combination was not to be let live if
-there was such a thing as getting him out of the
-way. But they never thought to watch the Special
-which was supposed to carry only delegates to the
-great convention. He could not possibly be on that!
-They knew he was coming from Pittsburgh, for
-they had been so advised by telegram the evening
-before by one of their company who had seen him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>
-buying a sleeper ticket for Washington, but they felt
-safe about that Special, for they had made inquiries
-and been told no one but delegates could possibly
-come on it. They had done their work thoroughly,
-and were on hand with every possible plan perfected
-for bagging their game, but they took the time
-when the Pittsburgh Special was expected to arrive
-for eating a hearty breakfast in the restaurant across
-the street from the station. Two of them emerged
-from the restaurant doorway in plenty of time to
-meet the next Pittsburgh train, just as Gordon, having
-placed the lady in a closed carriage, was getting
-in himself.</p>
-
-<p>If the carriage had stood in any other spot along
-the pavement in front of the station, they never
-would have seen him, but, as it was, they had a full
-view of him; and because they were Washington
-men, and experts in their line, they recognized him
-at once, and knew their plans had failed, and that
-only by extreme measures could they hope to prevent
-the delivery of the message which would mean
-downfall and disaster to them and their schemes.</p>
-
-<p>As Gordon slammed shut the door of the carriage,
-he caught a vision of his two enemies pointing
-excitedly toward him, and he knew that the
-bloodhounds were on the scent.</p>
-
-<p>His heart beat wildly. His anxiety was divided<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>
-between the message and the lady. What should he
-do? Drive at once to the home of his chief and deliver
-the message, or leave the girl at his rooms,
-’phone for a faster conveyance and trust to getting
-to his chief ahead of his pursuers?</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t let anything hinder you! Don’t let anything
-hinder you! Make it a matter of life and
-death!” rang the little ditty in his ears, and now it
-seemed as if he must go straight ahead with the
-message. And yet—“a matter of life and death!”
-He could not, must not, might not, take the lady
-with him into danger. If he must be in danger of
-death he did not want to die having exposed an innocent
-stranger to the same.</p>
-
-<p>Then there was another point to be thought of.</p>
-
-<p>He had already told the driver to take him to his
-apartments, and to drive as rapidly as possible. It
-would not do to stop him now and change the directions,
-for a pistol-shot could easily reach him yet;
-and, coming from a crowd, who would be suspected?
-His enemies were standing on the threshold of a
-place where there were many of their kind to protect
-them, and none of his friends knew of his coming.
-It would be a race for life from now on to
-the finish.</p>
-
-<p>Celia was looking out with interest at the streets,
-recognizing landmarks with wonder, and did not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>
-notice Gordon’s white, set face and burning eyes as
-he strained his vision to note how fast the horse
-was going. Oh, if the driver would only turn off
-at the next corner into the side street they could
-not watch the carriage so far, but it was not likely,
-for this was the most direct road, and yet—yes, he
-had turned! Joy! The street here was so crowded
-that he had sought the narrower, less crowded way
-that he might go the faster.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed an age to him before they stopped at
-his apartments. To Celia, it had been but a short
-ride, in which familiar scenes had brought her
-pleasure, for she recognized that she was not in
-strange Chicago, but in Washington, a city often
-visited. Somehow she felt it was an omen of a
-better future than she had feared.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, why didn’t you tell me?” she smiled to
-Gordon. “It is Washington, dear old Washington.”</p>
-
-<p>Somehow he controlled the tumult in his heart
-and smiled back, saying in a voice quite natural:</p>
-
-<p>“I am so glad you like it.”</p>
-
-<p>She seemed to understand that they could not
-talk until they reached a quiet place somewhere, and
-she did not trouble him with questions. Instead—she
-looked from the window, or watched him furtively,
-comparing him with her memory of George
-Hayne, and wondering in her own thoughts. She was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>
-glad to have them to herself for just this little bit,
-for now that the morning had come she was almost
-afraid of revelation, what it might bring forth.
-And so it came about that they took the swift ride in
-more or less silence, and neither thought it strange.</p>
-
-<p>As the carriage stopped, he spoke with low, hurried
-voice, tense with excitement, but her own nerves
-were on a strain also, and she did not notice.</p>
-
-<p>“We get out here.”</p>
-
-<p>He had the fare ready for the driver, and, stepping
-out, hurried Celia into the shelter of the hallway.
-It happened that an elevator had just come
-down, so it was but a second more before they were
-up safe in the hall before his own apartment.</p>
-
-<p>Taking a latch-key from his pocket, he applied
-it to the door, flung it open, and ushered Celia to a
-large leather chair in the middle of the room. Then,
-stepping quickly to the side of the room, he touched
-a bell, and from it went to the telephone, with an
-“Excuse me, please, this is necessary,” to the girl,
-who sat astonished, wondering at the homelikeness
-of the room and at the “at-homeness” of the man.
-She had expected to be taken to a hotel. This
-seemed to be a private apartment with which he was
-perfectly acquainted. Perhaps it belonged to some
-friend. But how, after an absence of years, could
-he remember just where to go, which door and which<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>
-elevator to take, and how to fit the key with so accustomed
-a hand? Then her attention was arrested by
-his voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Give me 254 L please,” he said.... “Is
-this 254 L?... Is Mr. Osborne in?... You
-say he has <i>not</i> gone to the office yet?...
-May I speak with him?... Is this Mr. Osborne?...
-I did not expect you to know my
-voice.... Yes, sir; just arrived, and all safe
-so far. Shall I bring it to the house or the office?...
-The house?... All right, sir. Immediately....
-By the way, I am sure Hale
-and Burke are on my track. They saw me at the
-station.... To your house?... You
-will wait until I come?... All right, sir.
-Yes, immediately.... Sure, I’ll take precaution....
-Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>With the closing words came a tap at the door.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, Henry,” he answered, as the astonished
-girl turned toward the door. “Henry, you will go
-down, please, to the restaurant, and bring up a menu
-card. This lady will select what she would like to
-have, and you will serve breakfast for her in this
-room as soon as possible. I shall be out for perhaps
-an hour, and, meantime, you will obey any orders
-she may give you.”</p>
-
-<p>He did not introduce her as his wife, but she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>
-did not notice the omission. She had suddenly become
-aware of a strange, distraught haste in his
-manner, and when he said he was going out alarm
-seized her, she could not tell why.</p>
-
-<p>The man bowed deferentially to his master,
-looked his admiration and devotion to the lady,
-waited long enough to say:</p>
-
-<p>“I’se mighty glad to see you safe back, sah—”
-and disappeared to obey orders.</p>
-
-<p>Celia turned toward Gordon for an explanation,
-but he was already at the telephone again:</p>
-
-<p>“46!... Is this the Garage?...
-This is The Harris Apartments.... Can you
-send Thomas with a closed car to the rear door immediately?...
-Yes.... No, I want
-Thomas, and a car that can speed.... Yes,
-the rear door, <i>rear</i>, and at once.... What?...
-What’s that?... But I <i>must</i>....
-It’s <i>official</i> business.... Well, I thought so.
-Hurry them up. Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>He turned and saw her troubled gaze following
-him with growing fear in her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“What is the matter?” she asked anxiously.
-“Has something happened?”</p>
-
-<p>Just one moment he paused, and, coming toward
-her, laid his hands on hers tenderly.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothing the matter at all,” he said soothingly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>
-“At least nothing that need worry you. It is just
-a matter of pressing business. I’m sorry to have
-to go from you for a little while, but it is necessary.
-I cannot explain to you until I return. You will
-trust me? You will not worry?”</p>
-
-<p>“I will try!”</p>
-
-<p>Her lips were quivering, and her eyes were filled
-with tears. Again he felt that intense longing to
-lay his lips upon hers and comfort her, but he put it
-from him.</p>
-
-<p>“There is nothing to feel sad about,” he said,
-smiling gently. “It is nothing tragic only there is
-need for haste, for if I wait, I may fail yet—— It
-is something that means a great deal to me. When
-I come back I will explain all.”</p>
-
-<p>“Go!” she said, putting out her hands in a
-gesture of resignation, as if she would hurry him
-from her. And though she was burning to know
-what it all meant there was that about him that compelled
-her to trust him and to wait.</p>
-
-<p>Then his control almost went from him. He
-nearly took those hands in his and kissed them, but
-he did not. Instead, he went with swift steps to
-his bedroom door, threw open a chiffonier drawer,
-and took therefrom something small and sinister.
-She could see the gleam of its polished metal, and
-she sensed a strange little menace in the click as he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>
-did something to it, she could not see what, because
-his back was to her. He came out with his hand in
-his pocket, as if he had just hidden something there.</p>
-
-<p>She was not familiar with firearms. Her mother
-had been afraid of them and her brother had never
-flourished any around the house, yet she knew by
-instinct that some weapon of defence was in Gordon’s
-possession; and a nameless horror rose in her heart
-and shone from her blue eyes, but she would not
-speak a word to let him know it. If he had not been
-in such haste, he would have seen. Her horror
-would have been still greater if she had known that
-he already carried one loaded revolver and was
-taking a second in case of an emergency.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t worry,” he called as he hurried out the
-door. “Henry will get anything you need, and I
-shall soon be back.”</p>
-
-<p>The door closed and he was gone. She heard
-his quick step down the hall, heard the elevator door
-slide and slam again, and then she knew he was gone
-down. Outside an automobile sounded and she
-seemed to hear again his words at the phone, “The
-rear door.” Why had he gone to the rear door?
-Was he in hiding? Was he flying from some one?
-What, oh what, did it mean?</p>
-
-<p>Without stopping to reason it out, she flew
-across the room and opened the door of the bedroom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>
-he had just left, then through it passed swiftly to a
-bath-room beyond. Yes, there was a window.
-Would it be the one? Could she see him? And
-what good would it do her if she could?</p>
-
-<p>She crowded close to the window. There was a
-heavy sash with stained glass, but she selected a
-clear bit of yellow and put her eye close. Yes, there
-was a closed automobile just below her, and it had
-started away from the building. He had gone, then.
-Where?</p>
-
-<p>Her mind was a blank for a few minutes. She
-went slowly, mechanically back to the other room
-without noticing anything about her, sat down in
-the chair, putting her hands to her temples, and
-tried to think. Back to the moment in the church
-where he had appeared at her side and the service
-had begun. Something had told her then that he
-was different, and yet there had been those letters,
-and how could it possibly be that he had not written
-them? He was gone on some dangerous business.
-Of that she felt sure. There had been some caution
-given him by the man to whom he first ’phoned. He
-had promised to take precaution—that meant the
-little, wicked, gleaming thing in his pocket. Perhaps
-some harm would come to him, and she would
-never know. And then she stared at the opposite
-wall with wonder-filled eyes. Well, and suppose it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>
-did? Why did she care? Was he not the man
-whose power over her but two short days ago would
-have made her welcome death as her deliverer?
-Why was all changed now? Just because he had
-smiled upon her and been kind? Had given her a
-few wild flowers and said her eyes were like them?
-Had hair that waved instead of being straight and
-thin? And where was all her loyalty to her dear
-dead father’s memory? How could she mind that
-danger should come to one who had threatened to
-tell terrible lies that should blacken him in the
-thoughts of people who had loved him? Had she
-forgotten the letters? Was she willing to forgive
-all just because he had declared that he did not write
-them? How foolish! He said he could prove that
-he did not, but of course that was all nonsense. He
-must have written them. And yet there was the
-wave in his hair, and the kindness in his eyes. And
-he had looked—oh, he had looked terrible things
-when he had read that letter; as if he would like to
-wreak vengeance on the man who had written it.
-Could a man masquerade that way?</p>
-
-<p>And then a new solution to the problem came to
-her. Suppose this—whoever he was—this man who
-had married her, had gone out to find and punish
-George Hayne? Suppose—— But then she covered
-her eyes with her hands and shuddered. Yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>
-why should she care? But she did. Suppose he
-should be killed, himself! Who was he if not George
-Hayne and how did he come to take his place? Was
-it just another of George’s terrible tricks upon her?</p>
-
-<p>A quick vision came of their bringing him back
-to her. He would lie, perhaps, on that great crimson
-leather couch over there, just as he had lain in
-the dawning of the morning in the stateroom of the
-train, with his hands hanging limp, and one perhaps
-across his breast, as if he were guarding something,
-and his bright waves of brown hair lying heavy
-about his forehead—only, his forehead would be
-white, so white and cold, with a little blue mark in
-his temple perhaps.</p>
-
-<p>The footsteps of the man Henry brought her
-back to the present again. She smiled at him pleasantly
-as he entered, and answered his questions
-about what she would have for breakfast; but it was
-he who selected the menu, not she, and after he had
-gone she could not have told what she had ordered.
-She could not get away from the vision on the
-couch. She closed her eyes and pressed her cold
-fingers against her eyeballs to drive it away, but still
-her bridegroom seemed to lie there before her.</p>
-
-<p>The colored man came back presently with a
-loaded tray, and set it down on a little table which
-he wheeled before her, as though he had done it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>
-many times before. She thanked him, and said there
-was nothing else she needed, so he went away.</p>
-
-<p>She toyed with the cup of delicious coffee which
-he had poured for her, and the few swallows she
-took gave her new heart. She broke a bit from a
-hot roll, and ate a little of the delicious steak, but
-still her mind was at work at the problem, and her
-heart was full of nameless anxiety.</p>
-
-<p>He had gone away without any breakfast himself,
-and he had had no supper the night before, she
-was sure. He probably had given to her everything
-he could get on the train. She was haunted with
-regret because she had not shared with him. She
-got up and walked about the room, trying to shake
-off the horror that was upon her, and the dread of
-what the morning might bring forth. Ordinarily
-she would have thought of sending a message to
-her mother and brother, but her mind was so
-troubled now that it never occurred to her.</p>
-
-<p>The walls of the room were tinted a soft greenish
-gray, and above the picture moulding they blended
-into a woodsy landscape with a hint of water, greensward,
-and blue sky through interlacing branches.
-It reminded her of the little village they had seen as
-they started from the train in the early morning
-light. What a beautiful day they had spent together<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>
-and how it had changed her whole attitude of heart
-toward the man she had married!</p>
-
-<p>Two or three fine pictures were hung in good
-lights. She studied them, and knew that the one
-who had selected and hung them was a judge of true
-art; but they did not hold her attention long, for as
-yet, she had not connected the room with the man
-for whom she waited.</p>
-
-<p>A handsome mahogany desk stood open in a
-broad space by the window. She was attracted by
-a little painted miniature of a woman. She took it
-up and studied the face. It was fine and sweet, with
-brown hair dressed low, and eyes that reminded her
-of the man who had just gone from her. Was this,
-then, the home of some relative with whom he had
-come to stop for a day or two, and, if so, where was
-the relative? The dress in the miniature was of a
-quarter of a century past, yet the face was young and
-sweet, as young, perhaps, as herself. She wondered
-who it was. She put the miniature back in place
-with caressing hand. She felt that she would like to
-know this woman with the tender eyes. She wished
-her here now, that she might tell her all her anxiety.</p>
-
-<p>Her eye wandered to the pile of letters, some of
-them official-looking ones, one or two in square, perfumed
-envelopes, with high, angular writing. They
-were all addressed to Mr. Cyril Gordon. That was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>
-strange! Who was Mr. Cyril Gordon? What had
-they—what had she—to do with him? Was he a
-friend whom George—whom they—were visiting
-for a few days? It was all bewildering.</p>
-
-<p>Then the telephone rang.</p>
-
-<p>Her heart beat wildly and she looked toward it
-as if it had been a human voice speaking and she
-had no power to answer. What should she do now?
-Should she answer? Or should she wait for the
-man to come? Could the man hear the telephone
-bell or was she perhaps expected to answer? And
-yet if Mr. Cyril Gordon—well, somebody ought to
-answer. The ’phone rang insistently once more,
-and still a third time. What if <i>he</i> should be calling
-her! Perhaps he was in distress. This thought sent
-her flying to the ’phone. She took down the receiver
-and called:</p>
-
-<p>“Hello!” and her voice sounded far away to
-herself.</p>
-
-<p>“Is this Mr. Gordon’s apartment?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” she answered, for her eyes were resting
-on the pile of letters close at hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Is Mr. Gordon there?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, he is not,” she answered, growing more
-confident now and almost wishing she had not presumed
-to answer a stranger’s ’phone.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I just ’phoned to the office and they told<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>
-me he had returned,” said a voice that had an imperious
-note in it. “Are you sure he isn’t there?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quite sure,” she replied.</p>
-
-<p>“Who is this, please?”</p>
-
-<p>“I beg your pardon,” said Celia trying to make
-time and knowing not how to reply. She was not
-any longer Miss Hathaway. Who was she? Mrs.
-Hayne? She shrank from the name. It was filled
-with horror for her. “Who is this, I said,” snapped
-the other voice now. “Is this the chambermaid?
-Because if it is I’d like you to look around and
-inquire and be quite sure that Mr. Gordon isn’t
-there. I wish to speak with him about something
-very important.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia smiled.</p>
-
-<p>“No, this is not the chambermaid,” she said
-sweetly, “and I am quite sure Mr. Gordon is not
-here.”</p>
-
-<p>“How long before he will be there?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know really, for I have but just come
-myself.”</p>
-
-<p>“Who is this to whom I am talking?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why—just a friend,” she answered, wondering
-if that were the best thing to say.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” there was a long and contemplative pause
-at the other end.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>“Well, could you give Mr. Gordon a message
-when he comes in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why certainly, I think so. Who is this?”</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Bentley. Julia Bentley. He’ll know,”
-replied the imperious one eagerly now. “And tell
-him please that he is expected here to dinner to-night.
-We need him to complete the number, and
-he simply mustn’t fail me. I’ll excuse him for going
-off in such a rush if he comes early and tells me all
-about it. Now you won’t forget, will you? You
-got the name, Bentley, did you? B, E, N, T, L, E, Y,
-you know. And you’ll tell him the minute he comes
-in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you! What did you say your name
-was?”</p>
-
-<p>But Celia had hung up. Somehow the message
-annoyed her, she could not tell why. She wished
-she had not answered the ’phone. Whoever Mr.
-Cyril Gordon was what should she do if he should
-suddenly appear? And as for this imperious lady
-and her message she hoped she would never have to
-deliver it. On second thought why not write it and
-leave it on his desk with the pile of letters? She
-would do it. It would serve to pass away a few of
-these dreadful minutes that lagged so distressfully.</p>
-
-<p>She sat down and wrote: “Miss Bentley wishes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>
-Mr. Gordon to dine with her this evening. She
-will pardon his running away the other day if he
-will come early.” She laid it beside the high angular
-writing on the square perfumed letters and went
-back to the leather chair too restless to rest yet too
-weary to stand up.</p>
-
-<p>She went presently to the back windows to look
-out, and then to the side ones. Across the housetops
-she could catch a glimpse of domes and buildings.
-There was the Congressional Library, which
-usually delighted her with its exquisite tones of gold
-and brown and white. But she had no eyes for it
-now. Beyond were more buildings, all set in the
-lovely foliage which was much farther developed
-than it had been in New York State. From another
-window she could get a glimpse of the Potomac
-shining in the morning sun.</p>
-
-<p>She wandered to the front windows and looked
-out. There were people passing and repassing. It
-was a busy street, but she could not make out
-whether it was one she knew or not. There were
-two men walking back and forth on the opposite
-side. They did not go further than the corner of the
-street either way. They looked across at the windows
-sometimes and pointed up, when they met,
-and once one of them took something out of his
-pocket and flashed it under his coat at his side, as if<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>
-to have it ready for use. It reminded her of the
-thing her husband had held in his hand in the bedroom
-and she shuddered. She watched them, fascinated,
-not able to draw herself away from the
-window.</p>
-
-<p>Now and then she would go to the rear window,
-to see if there was any sign of the automobile returning,
-and then hurry back to the front, to see if
-the men were still there. Once she returned to the
-chair, and, lying back, shut her eyes, and let the
-memory of yesterday sweep over her in all its sweet
-details, up to the time when they had got into the
-way train and she had seemed to feel her disloyalty
-to her father. But now her heart was all on the
-other side, and she began to feel that there had been
-some dreadful mistake, somewhere, and he was
-surely all right. He could not, could not have written
-those terrible letters. Then again the details of
-their wild carriage ride in Pittsburgh and miraculous
-escape haunted her. There was something
-strange and unexplained about that which she must
-understand.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Meantime</span>, Gordon was speeding away to another
-part of the city by the fastest time an experienced
-chauffeur dared to make. About the time they
-turned the first corner into the avenue, two burly
-policemen sauntered casually into the pretty square
-in front of the house where lived the chief of the
-Secret Service. There was nothing about their demeanor
-to show that they had been detailed there by
-special urgency, and three men who hurried to the
-little park just across the street from the house
-could not possibly know that their leisurely and
-careless stroll was the result of a hurried telephone
-message from the chief to police headquarters immediately
-after his message from Gordon.</p>
-
-<p>The policemen strolled by the house, greeted each
-other, and walked on around the square across the
-little park. They eyed the three men sitting idly on a
-bench, and passed leisurely on. They disappeared
-around a corner, and to the three men were out of
-the way. The latter did not know the hidden places
-where the officers took up their watch, and when an
-automobile appeared, and the three stealthily got up
-from their park bench and distributed themselves
-among the shrubbery near the walk, they knew not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>
-that their every movement was observed with keen
-attention. But they did wonder how it happened
-that those two policemen seemed to spring out of the
-ground suddenly, just as the auto came to a halt in
-front of the chief’s house.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon sprang out and up the steps with a
-bound, the door opening before him as if he were
-expected. The two grim and apparently indifferent
-policemen stood outside like two stone images on
-guard, while up the street with rhythmic sound rode
-two mounted police, also coming to a halt before the
-house as if for a purpose. The three men in the
-bushes hid their instruments of death, and would
-have slunk away had there been a chance; but, turning
-to make a hasty flight, they were met by three
-more policemen. There was the crack of a revolver
-as one of the three desperadoes tried a last reckless
-dash for freedom—and failed. The wretch went to
-justice with his right arm hanging limp by his side.</p>
-
-<p>Inside the house Gordon was delivering up his
-message, and as he laid it before his chief, and stood
-silent while the elder man read and pondered its
-tremendous import, it occurred to him for the first
-time that his chief would require some report of his
-journey, and the hindrances that had made him a
-whole day late in getting back to Washington. His
-heart stood still with sudden panic. What was he to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>
-do? How could he tell it all? What right had he to
-tell of his marriage to an unknown woman? A
-marriage that perhaps was not a marriage. He
-could not know what the outcome would be until he
-had told the girl everything. As far as he himself
-was concerned he knew that the great joy of his life
-had come to him in her. Yet he could not hope that
-it would be so with her. And he must think of her
-and protect her good name in every way. If there
-should be such a thing ever as that she should consent
-to remain with him and be his wife he must
-never let a soul know but what the marriage had been
-planned long ago. It would not be fair to her. It
-would make life intolerable for them both either
-together or apart. And while he might be and doubtless
-was perfectly safe in confiding in his chief, and
-asking him to keep silence about the matter, still he
-felt that even that would be a breach of faith with
-Celia. He must close his lips upon the story until
-he could talk with her and know her wishes. He
-drew a sigh of weariness. It was a long, hard way
-he had come, and it was not over. The worst ordeal
-would be his confession to the bride who was not his
-wife.</p>
-
-<p>The chief looked up.</p>
-
-<p>“Could you make this out, Gordon?” he asked,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>
-noting keenly the young man’s weary eyes, the
-strained, tense look about his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes sir; I saw it at once. I was almost
-afraid my eyes might betray the secret before I got
-away with it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then you know what you have saved the country,
-and what you have been worth to the Service.”</p>
-
-<p>The young man flushed with pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you, sir,” he said, looking down. “I
-understood it was important, and I am glad I was
-able to accomplish the errand without failing.”</p>
-
-<p>“Have you reason to suppose you were followed,
-except for what you saw at the station in this city?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir; I am sure there were detectives after
-me as I was leaving New York. They were suspicious
-of me. I saw one of the men who had been
-at the dinner with me watching me. The disguise—and—some
-circumstances—threw him off. He
-wasn’t sure. Then, there was a man—you know
-him, Balder—at Pittsburgh?——”</p>
-
-<p>“Pittsburgh!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, you wonder how I got to Pittsburgh.
-You see, I was shadowed almost from the first I
-suspect, for when I reached the station in New York
-I was sure I recognized this man who had sat opposite
-me a few minutes before. I suppose my disguise,
-which you so thoughtfully provided, bothered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>
-him, for though he followed me about at a little distance
-he didn’t speak to me. I had to get on the
-first train that circumstances permitted, and perhaps
-the fact that it was a Chicago train made him think
-he was mistaken in me. Anyhow I saw no more of
-him after the train left the station. Rather unexpectedly
-I found I could get the drawing-room compartment,
-and went into immediate retirement, leaving
-the train at daylight where it was delayed on a
-side track, and walked across country till I found a
-conveyance that took me to a Pittsburgh train. It
-didn’t seem feasible to get away from the Chicago
-train any sooner as the train made no further stops,
-and it was rather late at night by the time I boarded
-it. I thought I would run less risk by making a détour.
-I never dreamed they would have watchers
-out for me at Pittsburgh, and I can’t think yet how
-they managed to get on my track, but almost the
-first minute I landed I spied Balder stretching his
-neck over the crowds. I bolted from the station at
-once and finding a carriage drawn up before the door
-just ready for me I got in and ordered them to drive
-me to East Liberty station.</p>
-
-<p>“I am afraid I shall always be suspicious of
-handy closed carriages after this experience. I certainly
-have reason to be. The door was no sooner
-closed on me than the driver began to race like mad<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>
-through the streets. I didn’t think much of it at
-first until he had been going some time, fully long
-enough to have reached East Liberty, and the horse
-was still rushing like a locomotive. Then I saw that
-we were in a lonely district of the city that seemed
-unfamiliar. That alarmed me and I tapped on the
-window and called to the driver. He paid no attention.
-Then I found the doors were fastened shut,
-and the windows plugged so they wouldn’t open.</p>
-
-<p>“I discovered that an armed man rode beside
-the driver. I managed to get one of the doors open
-after a good deal of work, and escaped when we
-stopped for a freight train to pass; but I’m satisfied
-that I was being kidnapped and if I hadn’t got away
-just when I did you would never have heard of me
-again or the message either. I finally managed to
-reach East Liberty station and jumped on the first
-train that came in, but I caught a glimpse of Balder
-stretching his neck over the crowd. He must have
-seen me and had Hale and Burke on the watch when
-I got here. They just missed me by a half second.
-They went over to the restaurant—didn’t expect me
-on a special, but I escaped them, and I’m mighty
-glad to get that little paper into your possession and
-out of mine. It’s rather a long story to tell the
-whole, but I think you have the main facts.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a suspicious glitter in the keen eyes of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>
-the kind old chief as he put out his hand and grasped
-Gordon’s in a hearty shake; but all he said was:</p>
-
-<p>“And you are all worn out—I’ll guarantee you
-didn’t sleep much last night.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, no,” said Gordon; “I had to sit up in a
-day-coach and share the seat with another man.
-Besides, I was somewhat excited.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course, of course!” puffed the old chief,
-coughing vigorously, and showing by his gruff attitude
-that he was deeply affected. “Well, young
-man, this won’t be forgotten by the Department.
-Now you go home and take a good sleep. Take the
-whole day off if you wish, and then come down to-morrow
-morning and tell me all about it. Isn’t there
-anything more I need to know at once that justice
-may be done?”</p>
-
-<p>“I believe not,” said Gordon, with a sigh of relief.
-“There’s a list of the men who were at the
-dinner with me. I wrote them down from memory
-last night when I couldn’t sleep. I also wrote a few
-scraps of conversation, which will show you just
-how deep the plot had gone. If I had not read the
-message and known its import, I should not have
-understood what they were talking about.”</p>
-
-<p>“H-m! Yes. If there had been more time before
-you started I might have told you all about it.
-Still, it seemed desirable that you should appear as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>
-much at your ease as possible. I thought this would
-be best accomplished by your knowing nothing of
-the import of the writing when you first met the
-people.”</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose it was as well that I did not know
-any more than I did. You are a great chief, sir! I
-was deeply impressed anew with that fact as I saw
-how wonderfully you had planned for every possible
-emergency. It was simply great, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pooh! Pooh! Get you home and to bed,”
-said the old chief quite brusquely.</p>
-
-<p>He touched a bell and a man appeared.</p>
-
-<p>“Jessup, is the coast clear?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Yessah,” declared the darky. “Dey have jest
-hed a couple o’ shots in de pahk, an’ now dey tuk
-de villains off to der p’lice station. De officers is
-out der waitin’ to ’scort de gemman.”</p>
-
-<p>“Get home with you, Gordon, and don’t come
-to the office till ten in the morning. Then come
-straight to my private room.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon thanked him, and left the room preceded
-by the gray-haired servant. He was surprised to
-find the policemen outside, and wondered still more
-that they seemed to be going one in front and the
-other behind him as he rode along. He was greatly
-relieved that he had not been called upon to give the
-whole story. His heart was filled with anxiety now<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>
-to get back to the girl, and tell her everything, and
-yet he dreaded it more than anything he had ever had
-to face in all his life. He sat back on the cushions,
-and, covering his face with his hands, tried to think
-how he should begin, but he could see nothing but her
-sweet eyes filled with tears, think of nothing but the
-way she had looked and smiled during the beautiful
-morning they had spent together in the little town
-of Milton. Beautiful little Milton. Should he ever
-see it again?</p>
-
-<p>Celia at her window grew more and more nervous
-as an hour and then another half-hour slipped
-slowly away, and still he did not come. Then two
-mounted policemen rode rapidly down the street
-following an automobile, in which sat the man for
-whom she waited.</p>
-
-<p>She had no eyes now for the men who had been
-lurking across the way, and when she thought to
-look for them again she saw them running in the
-opposite direction as fast as they could go, making
-wild gestures for a car to stop for them.</p>
-
-<p>She stood by the window and saw Gordon get
-out of the car, and disappear into the building below,
-saw the car wheel and curve away and the
-mounted police take up their stand on either corner;
-heard the clang of the elevator as it started up, and
-the clash of its door as it stopped at that floor; heard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>
-steps coming on toward the door, and the key in the
-latch. Then she turned and looked at him, her two
-hands clasped before her, and her two eyes yearning,
-glad and fearful all at once.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I have been so frightened about you! I
-am so glad you have come!” she said, and caught
-her voice in a sob as she took one little step toward
-him.</p>
-
-<p>He threw his hat upon the floor, wherever it
-might land, and went to meet her, a great light glowing
-in his tired eyes, his arms outstretched to hers.</p>
-
-<p>“And did you care?” he asked in a voice of
-almost awe. “Dear, did you <i>care</i> what became of
-<i>me</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>He had come quite close to her now.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh yes, I <i>cared</i>! I could not help it.” There
-was a real sob in her voice now, though her eyes
-were shining.</p>
-
-<p>His arms went around her hungrily, as if he
-would draw her to him in spite of everything; yet
-he kept them so encircling, without touching her,
-like a benediction that would enwrap the very soul
-of his beloved. Looking down into her face he
-breathed softly:</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, my dear, it seems as if I must hold you
-close and kiss you!”</p>
-
-<p>She looked up with bated breath, and thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>
-she understood. Then, with a lovely gesture of surrender,
-she whispered, “I can trust you.” Her
-lashes were drooping now over her eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Not until you know all,” he said, and put her
-gently from him into the great arm-chair, with a
-look of reverence and self-abnegation she felt she
-never would forget.</p>
-
-<p>“Then, tell me quickly,” she said, a swift fear
-making her weak from head to foot. She laid her
-hand across her heart, as if to help steady its beating.</p>
-
-<p>He wheeled forward the leather couch opposite
-her chair, and sat down, his head drooping, his eyes
-down. He dreaded to begin.</p>
-
-<p>She waited for the revelation, her eyes upon his
-bowed head.</p>
-
-<p>Finally he lifted his eyes and saw her look, and
-a tender light came into his face.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a strange story,” he said. “I don’t know
-what you will think of me after it is told, but I want
-you to know that, blundering, stupid, even criminal,
-though you may think me, I would sooner die this
-minute than cause you one more breath of suffering.”</p>
-
-<p>Her eyes lit up with a wonderful light, and the
-ready tears sprang into them, tears that sparkled
-through the sunshine of a great joy that illumined
-her whole face.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>“Please go on,” she said softly, and added very
-gently, “I believe you.”</p>
-
-<p>But even with those words in his ears the beginning
-was not easy. Gordon drew a deep breath and
-launched forth.</p>
-
-<p>“I am not the man you think,” he said, and
-looked at her to see how she would take it. “My
-name is not George Hayne. My name is Cyril
-Gordon.”</p>
-
-<p>As one might launch an arrow at a beloved victim
-and long that it may not strike the mark, so he sent
-his truth home to her understanding, and waited in
-breathless silence, hoping against hope that this
-might not turn her against him.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she breathed softly, as if some puzzle
-were solving itself. “Oh!”—this time not altogether
-in surprise, nor as if the fact were displeasing.
-She looked at him expectantly for further
-revelation, and he plunged into his story headlong.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m a member of the Secret Service,—headquarters
-here in Washington,—and day before yesterday
-I was sent to New York on an important
-errand. A message of great import written in a private
-code had been stolen from one of our men. I
-was sent to get it before they could decipher it.
-The message involved matters of such tremendous
-significance that I was ordered to go under an assumed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>
-name, and on no account to let anyone know
-of my mission. My orders were to get the message,
-and let nothing hinder me in bringing it with all
-haste to Washington. I went with the full understanding
-that I might even be called upon to risk my
-life.”</p>
-
-<p>He looked up. The girl sat wide-eyed, with
-hands clasped together at her throat.</p>
-
-<p>He hurried on, not to cause her any needless
-anxiety.</p>
-
-<p>“I won’t weary you with details. There were a
-good many annoying hindrances on the way, which
-served to make me nervous, but I carried out the programme
-laid down by my chief, and succeeded in
-getting possession of the message and making my
-escape from the house of the man who had stolen it.
-As I closed the door behind me, knowing that it
-could be but a matter of a few seconds at longest
-before six furious men would be on my track, who
-would stop at nothing to get back what I had taken
-from them, I saw a carriage standing almost before
-the house. The driver took me for the man he
-awaited, and I lost no time in taking advantage of his
-mistake. I jumped in, telling him to drive as fast as
-he could. I intended to give him further directions,
-but he had evidently had them from another quarter,
-and I thought I could call to him as soon as we were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>
-out of the dangerous neighborhood. To add to my
-situation I soon became sure that an automobile and
-a motor-cycle were following me. I recognized one
-of the men in the car as the man who sat opposite
-to me at the table a few minutes before. My coachman
-drove like mad, while I hurried to secure the
-message so that if I were caught it would not be
-found, and to put on a slight disguise—some eyebrows
-and things the chief had given me. Before
-I knew where I was, the carriage had stopped before
-a building. At first I thought it was a prison—and
-the car and motor-cycle came to a halt just behind
-me. I felt that I was pretty well trapped.”</p>
-
-<p>The girl gave a low moan, and Gordon, not daring
-to look up, hurried on with his story.</p>
-
-<p>“There isn’t much more to tell that you do not
-already know. I soon discovered the building was
-a church, not a prison. What happened afterward
-was the result of my extreme perturbation of mind,
-I suppose. I cannot account for my stupidity and
-subsequent cowardice in any other way. Neither
-was it possible for me to explain matters satisfactorily
-at any time during the whole mix-up, on account
-of the trust which I carried, and which I
-could on no account reveal even in confidence, or put
-in jeopardy in the slightest degree. Naturally at
-first my commission and how to get safely through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>
-it all was the only thing of importance to me. If you
-keep this in mind perhaps you will be able to judge
-me less harshly. My only thought when the carriage
-came to a halt was how to escape from those two
-pursuers, and that more or less pervaded my mind
-during what followed so that ordinary matters which
-at another time would have been at once clear to
-me, meant nothing at all. You see, the instant that
-carriage came to a standstill some one threw open the
-door, and I heard a voice call ‘Where is the best
-man?’ Then another voice said, ‘Here he is!’ I
-took it that they thought I was best man, but would
-soon discover that I wasn’t when I came into the
-light. There wasn’t any chance to slip away, or I
-should have done so, and vanished in the dark, but
-everybody surrounded me, and seemed to think I
-was all right. The two men who had followed were
-close behind eyeing me keenly. I’m satisfied that
-they were to blame for that wild ride we took
-in Pittsburgh! I soon saw by the remarks that
-the man I was supposed to be had been away from
-this country for ten years, and of course then
-they would not be very critical. I tried twice to explain
-that there was a mistake, but both times they
-misunderstood me and thought I was saying I
-couldn’t go in the procession because I hadn’t practised.
-I don’t just know how I came to be in such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>
-a dreadful mess. It would seem as if it ought to
-have been a very easy thing to say I had got into the
-wrong carriage and they must excuse me, that I
-wasn’t their man, but, you see, they gave me no time
-to think nor to speak. They just turned me over
-from one man to another and took everything for
-granted, and I, finding that I would have to break
-loose and flee before their eyes if I wished to escape,
-reflected that there would be no harm in marching
-down the aisle as best man in a delayed wedding, if
-that was all there was to do. I could disappear as
-soon as the ceremony was over, and no one would be
-the wiser. The real best man would probably turn
-up and then they might wonder as they pleased for
-I would be far away and perhaps this was as good
-a place as any in which to hide for half an hour until
-my pursuers were baffled and well on their way seeking
-elsewhere for me. I can see now that I made
-a grave mistake in allowing even so much deception,
-but I did not see any harm in it then, and they all
-seemed in great distress for the ceremony to go forward.
-Bear in mind also that I was at that time
-entirely taken up with the importance of hiding my
-message until I could take it safely to my chief.
-Nothing else seemed to matter much. If the real best
-man was late to the wedding and they were willing to
-use me in his place what harm could come from it?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>
-He certainly deserved it for being late and if he came
-in during the ceremony he would think some one else
-had been put in his place. They introduced me to
-your brother—Jefferson. I thought he was the
-bridegroom, and I thought so until they laid your
-hand in mine!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she moaned, and the little hand went to
-help its mate cover her face.</p>
-
-<p>“I knew it!” he said bitterly. “I knew you
-would feel just that way as soon as you knew. I
-don’t blame you. I deserve it! I was a fool, a villain,
-a dumb brute—whatever you have a mind to
-call me! You can’t begin to understand how I have
-suffered for you since this happened, and how I have
-blamed myself.”</p>
-
-<p>He got up suddenly and strode over to the window,
-frowning down into the sunlit street, and wondering
-how it was that everybody seemed to be going
-on in exactly the same hurry as ever, when for him
-life had suddenly come to a standstill.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> room was very still. The girl did not even
-sob. He turned after a moment and went back to
-that bowed golden head there in the deep crimson
-chair.</p>
-
-<p>“Look here,” he said, “I know you can’t ever
-forgive me. I don’t expect it! I don’t deserve it!
-But please don’t feel so awfully about it. I’ll explain
-it all to every one. I’ll make it all right for
-you. I’ll take every bit of blame on myself, and get
-plenty of witnesses to prove all about it——”</p>
-
-<p>The girl looked up with sorrow and surprise in
-her wet eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I do not blame you,” she said, mournfully.
-“I cannot see how you were to blame. It
-was no one’s fault. It was just an unusual happening—a
-strange set of circumstances. I could not
-blame you. There is nothing to forgive, and if there
-were I would gladly forgive it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Then what on earth makes you look so white
-and feel so distressed?” he asked in a distracted
-voice, as a man will sometimes look and talk to the
-woman he loves when she becomes a tearful problem
-of despair to his obtuse eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, don’t you know?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>“No, I don’t,” he said. “You’re surely not
-mourning for that brute of a man to whom you had
-promised to sacrifice your life?”</p>
-
-<p>She shook her head, and buried her face in her
-hands again. He could see that the tears were dropping
-between her fingers, and they seemed to fall red
-hot upon his heart.</p>
-
-<p>“Then what is it?” His tone was almost sharp
-in its demand, but she only cried the harder. Her
-slender shoulders were shaking with her grief now.</p>
-
-<p>He put his hand down softly and touched her
-bowed head.</p>
-
-<p>“Won’t you tell me, Dear?” he breathed, and,
-stooping, knelt beside her.</p>
-
-<p>The sobs ceased, and she was quite still for a
-moment, while his hand still lay on her hair with
-that gentle, pleading touch.</p>
-
-<p>“It is—because you married me—in—that way—without
-knowing—— Oh, can’t you see how terrible——”</p>
-
-<p>Oh, the folly and blindness of love! Gordon got
-up from his knees as if she had stung him.</p>
-
-<p>“You need not feel bad about that any more,”
-he said in a hurt tone. “Did I not tell you I would
-set you free at once? Surely no one in his senses
-could call you bound after such circumstances.”</p>
-
-<p>She was very still for an instant, as if he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>
-struck her, and then she raised her golden head, and
-a pair of sweet eyes suddenly grown haughty.</p>
-
-<p>“You mean that <i>I</i> will set <i>you</i> free!” she said
-coldly. “I could not think of letting you be bound
-by a misunderstanding when you were under great
-stress of mind. You were in no wise to blame. <i>I</i>
-will set <i>you</i> free.”</p>
-
-<p>“As you please,” he retorted bitterly, turning
-toward the window again. “It all amounts to the
-same thing. There is nothing for you to feel bad
-about.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, there is,” she answered, with a quick rush
-of feeling that broke through her assumed haughtiness.
-“I shall always feel that I have broken in
-upon your life. You have had a most trying experience
-with me, and you never can quite forget it.
-Things won’t be the same——”</p>
-
-<p>She paused and the quiet tears chased each other
-eloquently down her face.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Gordon still bitterly; “things will
-never be the same for me. I shall always see you
-sitting there in my chair. I shall always be missing
-you from it! But I am glad—glad. I would never
-have known what I missed if it had not been for
-this.” He spoke almost savagely.</p>
-
-<p>He did not look around, but she was staring at
-him in astonishment, her blue eyes suddenly alight.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>“What do you mean?” she asked softly.</p>
-
-<p>He wheeled round upon her. “I mean that I
-shall never forget you; that I do not want to forget
-you. I should rather have had these two days of
-your sweet company, than all my lifetime in any
-other companionship.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she breathed. “Then, why—why did
-you say what you did about being free?”</p>
-
-<p>“I didn’t say anything about being free that I
-remember. It was you that said that.”</p>
-
-<p>“I said I would set you free. I could not, of
-course, hold you to a bond you did not want——”</p>
-
-<p>“But I did not say I did not want it. I said I
-would not hold you if <i>you</i> did not want to stay.”</p>
-
-<p>“Do you mean that if you had known me a little—that
-is, just as much as you know me now—and
-had come in there and found out your mistake before
-it was too late, that you would have <i>wanted</i> to
-go on with it?”</p>
-
-<p>She waited for his answer breathlessly.</p>
-
-<p>“If you had known me just as much as you do
-now, and had looked up and seen that it was I and
-not George Hayne you were marrying, would <i>you</i>
-have wanted to go on and be married?”</p>
-
-<p>Her cheeks grew rosy and her eyes confused.</p>
-
-<p>“I asked you first,” she said, with just a flicker
-of a smile.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>He caught the shimmer of light in her eyes, and
-came toward her eagerly, his own face all aglow
-now with a dawning understanding.</p>
-
-<p>“Darling,” he said, “I can go farther than you
-have asked. From the first minute my eyes rested
-upon your face under that mist of white veil I
-wished with all my heart that I might have known
-you before any other man had found and won you.
-When you turned and looked at me with that deep
-sorrow in your eyes, you pledged me with every fibre
-of my being to fight for you. I was yours from that
-instant. And when your little hand was laid in
-mine, my heart went out in longing to have it stay
-in mine forever. I know now, as I did not understand
-then, that the real reason for my not doing
-something to make known my identity at that instant
-was not because I was afraid of any of the
-things that might happen, or any scene I might make,
-but because my heart was fighting for the right to
-keep what had been given me out of the unknown.
-You are my wife, by every law of heaven and earth,
-if your heart will but say yes. I love you, as I
-never knew a man could love, and yet if you do not
-want to stay with me I will set you free; but it is
-true that I should never be the same, for I am married
-to you in my heart, and always shall be. Darling,
-look up and answer my question now.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>He stood before her with outstretched arms, and
-for answer she rose and came to him slowly, with
-downcast eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I do not want to be set free,” she said.</p>
-
-<p>Then gently, tenderly, he folded his arms about
-her, as if she were too precious to handle roughly,
-and laid his lips upon hers.</p>
-
-<p>It was the shrill, insistent clang of the telephone
-bell that broke in upon their bliss. For a moment
-Gordon let it ring, but its merciless clatter was not
-to be denied; so, drawing Celia close within his arm,
-he made her come with him to the ’phone.</p>
-
-<p>To his annoyance, the haughty voice of Miss
-Bentley answered him from the little black distance
-of the ’phone.</p>
-
-<p>His arm was about Celia, and she felt his whole
-body stiffen with formality.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Miss Bentley! Good-morning! Your
-message? Why no! Ah! Well, I have but just
-come in——”</p>
-
-<p>A pause during which Celia, panic-stricken,
-handed him the paper on which she had written
-Julia’s message.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah! Oh, yes, I have the message. Yes, it is
-very kind of you—” he murmured stiffly, “but you
-will have to excuse me. No, really. It is utterly
-impossible! I have another engagement—” his arm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>
-stole closer around Celia’s waist and caught her
-hand, holding it with a meaningful pressure. He
-smiled, with a grimace toward the telephone which
-gladdened her heart. “Pardon me, I didn’t hear
-that,” he went on.... “Oh, give up my engagement
-and come?... Not possibly!”
-His voice rang with a glad, decided force, and he
-held still closer the soft fingers in his hand....
-“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way about it. I
-certainly am not trying to be disagreeable. No, I
-could not come to-morrow night either....
-I cannot make any plans for the next few days....
-I may have to leave town again....
-It is quite possible I may have to return to New
-York. Yes, business has been very pressing. I hope
-you will excuse me. I am sorry to disappoint you.
-No, of course I didn’t do it on purpose. I shall have
-some pleasant news to tell you when I see you again—or—”
-with a glance of deep love at Celia, “perhaps
-I shall find means to let you know of it before
-I see you.”</p>
-
-<p>The color came and went in Celia’s cheeks. She
-understood what he meant and nestled closer to him.</p>
-
-<p>“No, no, I could not tell it over the ’phone. No,
-it will keep. Good things will always keep if they
-are well cared for you know. No, really I can’t.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>
-And I’m very sorry to disappoint you to-night, but
-it can’t be helped.... Good-by.”</p>
-
-<p>He hung up the receiver with a sigh of relief.</p>
-
-<p>“Who is Miss Bentley?” asked Celia, with natural
-interest. She was pleased that he had not addressed
-her as “Julia.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, she is—a friend—I suppose you would
-call her. She has been taking possession of my time
-lately rather more than I really enjoyed. Still, she
-is a nice girl. You’ll like her, I think; but I hope
-you’ll never get too intimate. I shouldn’t like to
-have her continually around. She——” he paused
-and finished, laughing—“she makes me tired.”</p>
-
-<p>“I was afraid, from her tone when she ’phoned
-you, that she was a very dear friend—that she might
-be some one you cared for. There was a sort of
-proprietorship in her tone.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, that’s the very word, proprietorship,” he
-laughed. “I couldn’t care for her. I never did.
-I tried to consider her in that light one day, because
-I’d been told repeatedly that I ought to settle down,
-but the thought of having her with me always was—well—intolerable.
-The fact is, you reign supreme
-in a heart that has never loved another girl. I didn’t
-know there was such a thing as love like this. I
-knew I lacked something, but I didn’t know what it
-was. This is greater than all the gifts of life, this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>
-gift of your love. And that it should come to me in
-this beautiful, unsought way seems too good to be
-true!”</p>
-
-<p>He drew her to him once more and looked down
-into her lovely face, as if he could not drink enough
-of its sweetness.</p>
-
-<p>“And to think you are willing to be my wife!
-My wife!” and he folded her close again.</p>
-
-<p>A discreet tap on the door announced the arrival
-of the man Henry, and Gordon roused to the necessity
-of ordering lunch.</p>
-
-<p>He stepped to the door with a happy smile and
-held it open.</p>
-
-<p>“Come in a minute, Henry,” he said. “This
-is my wife. I hope you will henceforth take her
-wishes as your special charge, and do for her as you
-have done so faithfully for me.”</p>
-
-<p>The man’s eyes shone with pleasure as he bowed
-low before the gentle lady.</p>
-
-<p>“I is very glad to heah it, sah, and I offers you
-my congratchumlations, sah, and de lady, too. She
-can’t find no bettah man in the whole United States
-dan Mars’ Gordon. I’s mighty glad you done got
-ma’ied, sah, an’ I hopes you bof have a mighty fine
-life.”</p>
-
-<p>The luncheon was served in Henry’s best style,
-and his dark face shone as he stepped noiselessly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>
-about, putting silver and china and glass in place, and
-casting admiring glances at the lady, who stood
-holding the little miniature in her hand and asking
-questions with a gentle voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Your mother, you say? How dear she is!
-And she died so long ago! You never knew her?
-Oh, how strange and sweet and pitiful to have a
-beautiful girl-mother like that!”</p>
-
-<p>She put out her hand to his in the shelter of the
-deep window, and they thought Henry did not see
-the look and touch that passed between them; but
-he discreetly averted his eyes and smiled benignly at
-the salt-cellars and the celery he was arranging.
-Then he hurried out to a florist’s next door and returned
-with a dozen white roses, which he arranged
-in a queer little crystal pitcher, one of the few articles
-belonging to his mother that Gordon possessed. It
-had never been used before, except to stand on the
-mantel.</p>
-
-<p>It was after they had finished their delightful
-luncheon, and Henry had cleared the table and left
-the room, that Gordon remarked:</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder what has become of George Hayne.
-Do you suppose he means to try to make trouble?”</p>
-
-<p>Celia’s hands fluttered to her throat with a little
-gesture of fear.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh!” she said. “I had forgotten him! How<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>
-terrible! He will do <i>something</i>, of course. He will
-do <i>everything</i>. He will probably carry out all his
-threats. How could I have forgotten! Perhaps
-Mamma is now in great distress. What can we do?
-What can <i>I</i> do?”</p>
-
-<p>She looked up at him helplessly, and his heart
-bounded at the thought that she was his to protect
-as long as life should last, and that she already depended
-upon him.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be frightened,” he soothed her. “He
-cannot do anything very dreadful, and if he tries
-we’ll soon silence him. What he has written in those
-letters is blackmail. He is simply a big coward, who
-will run and hide as soon as he is exposed. He
-thought you did not understand law, and so took
-advantage of you. I’m sure I can silence him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, do you think so? But Mamma! Poor
-Mamma! It will kill her! And George will stop at
-nothing when he is crossed. I have known him too
-long. It will be <i>terrible</i> if he carries out his threat.”
-Tears were in her eyes, agony was in her face.</p>
-
-<p>“We must telephone your mother at once and
-set her heart at rest. Then we can find out just what
-ought to be done,” said Gordon soothingly. “It
-was unforgivably thoughtless in me not to have
-done it before.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>Celia’s face was radiant at the thought of speaking
-to her mother.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, how beautiful! Why didn’t I think of that
-before! What perfectly dear things telephones
-are!”</p>
-
-<p>With one accord, they went to the telephone
-table.</p>
-
-<p>“Shall you call them up, or shall I?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“You call, and then I will speak to Mamma,”
-she said, her eyes shining with her joy in him. “I
-want them to hear your voice again. They can’t
-help knowing you are all right when they hear your
-voice.”</p>
-
-<p>For that, he gave her a glance very much worth
-having.</p>
-
-<p>“Just how do you account for the fact that you
-didn’t think I was all right yesterday afternoon? I
-have a very realizing sense that you didn’t. I used
-my voice to the best of my ability, but it did no good
-then.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you see, that was different! There were
-those letters to be accounted for. Mamma and Jeff
-don’t know anything about the letters.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what are you going to tell them now?”</p>
-
-<p>She drew her brows down a minute and thought.</p>
-
-<p>“You’d better find out how much they already
-know,” he suggested. “If this George Hayne hasn’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>
-turned up yet, perhaps you can wait until you can
-write, or we might be able to go up to-morrow and
-explain it ourselves.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, could we? How lovely!”</p>
-
-<p>“I think we could,” said Gordon. “I’m sure
-I can make it possible. Of course, you know a wedding
-journey isn’t exactly in the program of the
-Secret Service, but I might be able to work them for
-one. I surely can in a few days if this Holman business
-doesn’t hold me up. I may be needed for a
-witness. I’ll have to talk with the chief first.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, how perfectly beautiful! Then you call
-them up, and just say something pleasant—anything,
-you know—and then say I’ll speak to Mamma.”</p>
-
-<p>She gave him the number, and in a few minutes
-a voice from New York said, “Hello!”</p>
-
-<p>“Hello!” called Gordon. “Is this Mr. Jefferson
-Hathaway?... Well, this is your new
-brother-in-law. How are you all?... Your
-mother recovered from all the excitement and weariness?...
-That’s good.... What’s
-that?... You’ve been trying to ’phone us in
-Chicago?... But we’re not in Chicago. We
-changed our minds and came to Washington instead....
-Yes, we’re in Washington—The Harris
-Apartments. We have been very selfish not to have
-communicated with you sooner. At least I have.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>
-Celia hasn’t had any choice in the matter. I’ve kept
-her so busy. Yes, she’s very well, and seems to look
-happy. She wants to speak for herself. I’ll try to
-arrange to bring her up to-morrow for a little visit.
-I want to see you too. We’ve a lot of things to explain
-to you.... Here is Celia. She wants to
-speak to you.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia, her eyes shining, her lips quivering with
-suppressed excitement, took the receiver.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Jeff dear, it’s good to hear your voice,” she
-said. “Is everything all right? Yes, I’ve been having
-a perfectly beautiful time, and I’ve something
-fine to tell you. All those nice things you said to me
-just before you got off the train are true. Yes, he’s
-just as nice as you said, and a great deal nicer besides.
-Oh, yes, I’m very happy, and I want to speak
-to Mamma please. Jeff, is she all right? Is she
-<i>perfectly</i> well, and not fretting a bit? You know
-you promised to tell me. What’s that? She thought
-I looked sad? Well, I did but that’s all gone now.
-Everything is perfectly beautiful. Tell mother to
-come to the ’phone please—I want to make her understand.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m going to tell her, dear,” she whispered,
-looking up at Gordon. “I’m afraid George will get
-there before we do and make her worry.”</p>
-
-<p>For answer he stooped and kissed her, his arm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>
-encircling her and drawing her close. “Whatever
-you think best, dearest,” he whispered back.</p>
-
-<p>“Is that you, Mamma?” With a happy smile she
-turned back to the ’phone. “Dear Mamma! Yes, I’m
-all safe and happy, and I’m so sorry you have worried.
-We won’t let you do it again. But listen;
-I’ve something to tell you, a surprise—Mamma, I
-did not marry George Hayne at all. No, I say I <i>did
-not</i> marry George Hayne at all. George Hayne is a
-wicked man. I can’t tell you about it over the ’phone
-but that was why I looked sad. Yes, I was <i>married</i>
-all right, but not to George. He’s oh, so different,
-Mother you can’t think. He’s right here beside me
-now, and Mother, he is just as dear—you’d be very
-happy about him if you could see him. What did
-you say? Didn’t I mean to marry George? Why
-Mother, I never wanted to. I was awfully unhappy
-about it, and I knew I made you feel so too, though
-I tried not to. But I’ll explain all about it. You’ll
-be perfectly satisfied when you know all about it....
-No, there’s nothing whatever for you to
-worry about. Everything is right now and life looks
-more beautiful to me than it ever did before. What’s
-his name? Oh;” she looked up at Gordon with a
-funny little expression of dismay. She had forgotten
-and he whispered it in her ear.</p>
-
-<p>“Cyril—”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>“It’s Cyril, Mother! Isn’t that a pretty name?
-Which name? Oh, the first name of course. The
-last name?”</p>
-
-<p>“Gordon—” he supplied in her ear again.</p>
-
-<p>“Cyril Gordon, Mother,” she said, giggling in
-spite of herself at her strange predicament....
-“Yes, Mother. I am very, very happy. I couldn’t
-be happier unless I had you and Jeff, too, and”—she
-paused, hesitating at the unaccustomed name—“and
-Cyril says we’re coming to visit you to-morrow.
-We’ll come up and see you and explain everything.
-And you’re not to worry about George
-Hayne if he comes. Just let Jeff put him off by telling
-him you have sent for me, or something of the
-sort, and don’t pay any attention to what he says.
-What? You say he did come? How strange—and
-he hasn’t been back? I’m so thankful. He is dreadful.
-Oh, Mother, you don’t know what I’ve escaped!
-And Cyril is good and dear. What? You
-want to speak to him? All right. He’s right here.
-Good-by, Mother, dear, till to-morrow. And you’ll
-promise not to worry about anything? All right.
-Here is—Cyril.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon took the receiver.</p>
-
-<p>“Mother, I’m taking good care of her, just as I
-promised, and I’m going to bring her for a flying
-visit up to see you to-morrow. Yes, I’ll take good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>
-care of her. She is very dear to me. The best thing
-that ever came into my life.”</p>
-
-<p>Then a mother’s blessing came thrilling over the
-wires, and touched the handsome, manly face with
-tenderness.</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you,” he said. “I shall try always to
-make you glad you said those words.”</p>
-
-<p>They returned to looking in each other’s eyes,
-after the receiver was hung up, as if they had been
-parted a long time. It seemed somehow as if their
-joy must be greater than any other married couple,
-because they had all their courting yet to do. It was
-beautiful to think of what was before them.</p>
-
-<p>There was so much on both sides to be told; and
-to be told over again because only half had been told;
-and there were so many hopes and experiences to be
-exchanged; so many opinions to compare, and to rejoice
-over because they were alike on many essentials.
-Then there were the rooms to be gone through, and
-Gordon’s pictures and favorite books to look at
-and talk about, and plans for the future to be touched
-upon—just barely touched upon.</p>
-
-<p>The apartment would do until they could look
-about and get a house, Gordon said, his heart swelling
-with the proud thought that at last he would have
-a real home, like his other married friends, with a
-real princess to preside over it.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>Then Celia had to tell all about the horror of the
-last three months, with the unpleasant shadows of
-the preceding years back of it. She told this in the
-dusk of evening, before Henry had come in to light
-up, and before they had realized that it was almost
-dinner-time. She told it with her face hidden on her
-husband’s shoulder, and his arms close about her,
-to give her comfort at each revelation of the story.
-They tried also to plan what to do about George
-Hayne; and then there was the whole story of Gordon’s
-journey and commission from the time the
-old chief had called him into the office until he came
-to stand beside her at the church altar and they were
-married. It was told in careful detail with all the
-comical, exasperating and pitiful incidents of white
-dog and little newsboy; but the strangest part about
-it all was that Gordon never said one word about
-Julia Bentley and her imaginary presence with him
-that first day, and he never even knew that he had
-left out an important detail.</p>
-
-<p>Celia laughed over the white dog and declared
-they must bring him home to live with them; and she
-cried over the story of the brave little newsboy and
-was eager to visit him in New York, promising herself
-all sorts of pleasure in taking him gifts and permanently
-bettering his condition; and it was in this
-way that Gordon incidentally learned that his wife<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>
-had a fortune in her own right, a fact that for a
-time gave him great uneasiness of mind until she had
-soothed him and laughed at him for an hour or
-more; for Gordon was an independent creature and
-had ideas about supporting his wife by his own toil.
-Besides it seemed an unfair advantage to have taken
-a wife and a fortune as it were unaware.</p>
-
-<p>But Celia’s fortune had not spoiled her, and she
-soon made him see that it had always been a mere
-incident in her scheme of living; comfortable and
-pleasant incident to be sure, but still an incident to
-be kept always in the background, and never for a
-moment to be a cause for self-gratulation or pride.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon found himself dreading the explanation
-that would have to come when he reached New York
-and faced his wife’s mother and brother. Celia had
-accepted his explanations, because, somehow by the
-beautiful ways of the spirit, her soul had found and
-believed in his soul before the truth was made known
-to her, but would her mother and brother be able
-also to believe? And he fell to planning with Celia
-just how he should tell the story; and this led to his
-bringing out a number of letters and papers that
-would be worth while showing as credentials, and
-every step of the way, as Celia got glimpse after
-glimpse into his past, her face shone with joy and
-her heart leaped with the assurance that her lot had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>
-been cast in goodly places, for she perceived not only
-that this man was honored and respected in high
-places, but that his early life had been peculiarly
-pure and true.</p>
-
-<p>The strange loneliness that had surrounded his
-young manhood seemed suddenly to have broken
-ahead of him, and to have opened out into the glory
-of the companionship of one peculiarly fitted to fill
-the need of his life. Thus they looked into one another’s
-eyes reading their life-joy, and entered into
-the beautiful miracle of acquaintanceship.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning quite early the ’phone called
-Gordon to the office. The chief’s secretary said the
-matter was urgent.</p>
-
-<p>He hurried away leaving Celia somewhat
-anxious lest their plans for going to New York that
-day could not be carried out, but she made up her
-mind not to fret even if the trip had to be put off a
-little, and solaced herself with a short visit with her
-mother over the telephone.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon entered his chief’s office a trifle anxiously,
-for he felt that in justice to his wife he ought
-to take her right back to New York and get matters
-there adjusted; but he feared that there would be
-business to hold him at home until the Holman
-matter was settled.</p>
-
-<p>The chief greeted him affably and bade him sit
-down.</p>
-
-<p>“I am sorry to have called you up so early,” he
-said, “but we needed you. The fact is, they’ve
-arrested Holman and five other men, and you are in
-immediate demand to identify them. Would it be
-asking too much of an already overworked man to
-send you back to New York to-day?”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon almost sprang from his seat in pleasure.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>“It just exactly fits in with my plans, or, rather,
-my wishes,” he said, smiling. “There are several
-matters of my own that I would like to attend to in
-New York and for which of course I did not have
-time.”</p>
-
-<p>He paused and looked at his chief, half hesitating,
-marvelling that the way had so miraculously
-opened for him to keep silence a little longer on the
-subject of his marriage. Perhaps the chief need
-never be told that the marriage ceremony took place
-on the day of the Holman dinner.</p>
-
-<p>“That is good,” said the chief, smiling. “You
-certainly have earned the right to attend to your own
-affairs. Then we need not feel so bad at having to
-send you back. Can you go on the afternoon train?
-Good! Then let us hear your account of your trip
-briefly, to see if there are any points we didn’t notice
-yesterday. But first just step here a moment. I
-have something to show you.”</p>
-
-<p>He flung open the door to the next office.</p>
-
-<p>“You knew that Ferry had left the Department
-on account of his ill-health? I have taken the liberty
-of having your things moved in here. This will
-hereafter be your headquarters, and you will be next
-to me in the Department.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon turned in amazement and gazed at the
-kindly old face. Promotion he had hoped for, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>
-such promotion, right over the heads of his elders
-and superiors, he had never dreamed of receiving.
-He could have taken the chief in his arms.</p>
-
-<p>“Pooh! Pooh!” said the chief. “You deserve
-it, you deserve it!” when Gordon tried to blunder
-out some words of appreciation. Then, as if to cap
-the climax, he added:</p>
-
-<p>“And, by the way, you know some one has got
-to run across the water to look after that Stanhope
-matter. That will fall to you, I’m afraid. Sorry
-to keep you trotting around the globe, but perhaps
-you’ll like to make a little vacation of it. The Department’ll
-give you some time if you want it. Oh,
-don’t thank me! It’s simply the reward of doing
-your duty, to have more duties given you, and higher
-ones. You have done well, young man. I have here
-all the papers in the Stanhope case, and full directions
-written out, and then if you can plan for it you
-needn’t return, unless it suits your pleasure. You
-understand the matter as fully as I do already. And
-now for business. Let’s hurry through. There are
-one or two little matters we must talk over and I
-know you will want to hurry back and get ready for
-your journey.” And so after all the account of
-Gordon’s extraordinary escape and eventful journey
-home became by reason of its hasty repetition a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>
-most prosaic story composed of the bare facts and
-not all of those.</p>
-
-<p>At parting the chief pressed Gordon’s hand with
-heartiness and ushered him out into the hall, with
-the same brusque manner he used to close all business
-interviews, and Gordon found himself hurrying
-through the familiar halls in a daze of happiness, the
-secret of his unexpected marriage still his own—and
-hers.</p>
-
-<p>Celia was watching at the window when his key
-clicked in the lock and he let himself into the apartment
-his face alight with the joy of meeting her
-again after the brief absence. She turned in a quiver
-of pleasure at his coming.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, get ready,” he said joyfully. “We are
-ordered off to New York on the afternoon train,
-with a wedding trip to Europe into the bargain; and
-I’m promoted to the next place to the chief. What
-do you think of that for a morning’s surprise?”</p>
-
-<p>He tossed up his hat like a boy, came over to
-where she stood, and stooping laid reverent lips upon
-her brow and eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, beautiful! lovely!” cried Celia, ecstatically,
-“come sit down on the couch and tell me about
-it. We can work faster afterward if we get it off
-our minds. Was your chief very much shocked that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>
-you were married without his permission or knowledge?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, that was the best of all. I didn’t have
-to tell him I was married. And he is not to know
-until just as I sail. He need never know how it all
-happened. It isn’t his business and it would be hard
-to explain. No one need ever know except your
-mother and brother unless you wish them to, dear.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I am so glad and relieved,” said Celia, delightedly.
-“I’ve been worrying about that a little,—what
-people would think of us,—for of course we
-couldn’t possibly explain it all out as it is to us.
-They would always be watching us to see if we
-really cared for each other; and suspecting that we
-didn’t, and it would be horrid. I think it is our own
-precious secret, and nobody but mamma and Jeff
-have a right to know, don’t you?”</p>
-
-<p>“I certainly do, and I was casting about in my
-mind as I went into the office how I could manage
-not to tell the chief, when what did he do but spring
-a proposition on me to go at once to New York and
-identify those men. He apologized tremendously
-for having to send me right back again, but said it
-was necessary. I told him it just suited me for I
-had affairs of my own that I had not had time to
-attend to when I was there, and would be glad to
-go back and see to them. That let me out on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>
-wedding question for it would be only necessary to
-tell him I was married when I got back. He would
-never ask when.”</p>
-
-<p>“But the announcements,” said Celia catching
-her breath laughingly, “I never thought of that.
-We’ll just have to have some kind of announcements
-or my friends will not understand about my new
-name; and we’ll have to send him one, won’t we?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, I don’t know. Couldn’t we get along
-without announcements? You can explain to your
-intimate friends, and the others won’t ever remember
-the name after a few months—we’ll not be likely
-to meet many of them right away. I’ll write to my
-chief and tell him informally leaving out the date
-entirely. He won’t miss it. If we have announcements
-at all we needn’t send him one. He wouldn’t
-be likely ever to see one any other way, or to notice
-the date. I think we can manage that matter. We’ll
-talk it over with your—” he hesitated and then smiling
-tenderly added, “we’ll talk it over with <i>mother</i>.
-How good it sounds to say that. I never knew my
-mother you know.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia nestled her hands in his and murmured,
-“Oh, I am so happy,—so happy! But I don’t understand
-how you got a wedding trip without telling
-your chief about our marriage.”</p>
-
-<p>“Easy as anything. He asked me if I would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>
-mind running across the water to attend to a matter
-for the service and said I might have extra time
-while there for a vacation. He never suspects that
-vacation is to be used as a wedding trip. I’ll write
-him, or ’phone him the night we leave New York. I
-may have to stay in the city two or three days to
-get this Holman matter settled, and then we can be
-off. In the meantime you can spend the time reconciling
-your mother to her new son. Do you think
-we’ll have a very hard time explaining matters to
-her?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit,” said Celia, gaily. “She never did
-like George. It was the only thing we ever disagreed
-about, my marrying him. She suspected all
-the time I wasn’t happy and couldn’t understand why
-I insisted on marrying him when I hadn’t seen him
-for ten years. She begged me to wait until he had
-been back in the country for a year or two, but he
-would not hear to such a thing and threatened to
-carry out his worst at once.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon’s heart suddenly contracted with righteous
-wrath over the cowardliness of the man who
-sought to gain his own ends by intimidating a
-woman,—and this woman, so dear, so beautiful, so
-lovely in her nature. It seemed the man’s heart
-must indeed be black to have done what he did. He
-mentally resolved to search him out and bring<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>
-him to justice as soon as he reached New York. It
-puzzled him to understand how easily he seemed to
-have abandoned his purposes. Perhaps after all he
-was more of a coward than they thought, and had
-not dared to remain in the country when he found
-that Celia had braved his wrath and married another
-man. He would find out about him and set the girl’s
-heart at rest just as soon as possible, that any
-embarrassment at some future time might be avoided.
-Gordon stooped and kissed his wife again, a caress
-that seemed to promise all reparation for the past.</p>
-
-<p>But it suddenly occurred to the two that trains
-did not wait for lovers’ long loitering, and with one
-accord they went to work. Celia of course had very
-little preparation to make. Her trunk was probably
-in Chicago and would need to be wired for. Gordon
-attended to that the first thing, looking up the number
-of the check and ordering it back to New York
-by telegraph. Turning from the telephone he rang
-for the man and asked Celia to give the order for
-lunch while he got together some things that he
-must take with him. A stay of several weeks would
-necessitate a little more baggage than he had taken
-to New York.</p>
-
-<p>He went into the bedroom and began pulling out
-things to pack but when Celia turned from giving
-her directions she found him standing in the bedroom<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>
-doorway with an old-fashioned velvet jewel case in
-his hand which he had just taken from the little
-safe in his room. His face wore a wonderful tender
-light as if he had just discovered something precious.</p>
-
-<p>“Dear,” he said, “I wonder if you will care for
-these. They were mother’s. Perhaps this ring will
-do until I can buy you a new one. See if it will fit
-you. It was my mother’s.”</p>
-
-<p>He held out a ring containing a diamond of
-singular purity and brilliance in quaint old-fashioned
-setting.</p>
-
-<p>Celia put out her hand with its wedding ring, the
-ring that he had put upon her finger at the altar, and
-he slipped the other jewelled one above it. It fitted
-perfectly.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a beauty,” breathed Celia, holding out her
-hand to admire it, “and I would far rather have it
-than a new one. Your dear little mother!”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s not much else here but a little string of
-pearls and a pin or two. I have always kept them
-near me. Somehow they seemed like a link between
-me and mother. I was keeping them for—” he hesitated
-and then giving her a rare smile he finished:</p>
-
-<p>“I was keeping them for you.”</p>
-
-<p>Her answering look was eloquent, and needed no
-words which was well, for Henry appeared at that
-moment to serve luncheon and remind his master<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>
-that his train left in a little over two hours. There
-was no further time for sentiment.</p>
-
-<p>And yet, these two, it seemed, could not be practical
-that day. They idled over their luncheon and
-dawdled over their packing, stopping to look at this
-and that picture or bit of bric-a-brac that Gordon
-had picked up in some of his travels; and Henry
-finally had to take things in his own hands, pack
-them off and send their baggage after them. Henry
-was a capable man and rejoiced to see the devotion
-of his master and his new mistress, but he had a
-practical head and knew where his part came in.</p>
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">The</span> journey back to New York seemed all too
-brief for the two whose lives had just been blended
-so unexpectedly, and every mile was filled with a
-new and sweet discovery of delight in one another;
-and then, when they reached the city they rushed in
-on Mrs. Hathaway and the eager young Jeff like
-two children who had so much to tell they did not
-know where to begin.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hathaway settled the matter by insisting
-on their going to dinner immediately and leaving
-all explanations until afterward; and with the servants
-present of course there was little that could
-be said about the matter that each one had most at
-heart. But there was a spirit of deep happiness in
-the atmosphere and one couldn’t possibly entertain
-any fears under the influence of the radiant smiles
-that passed between mother and daughter, husband
-and wife, brother and sister.</p>
-
-<p>As soon as the meal was concluded the mother
-led them up to her private sitting room, and closing
-the door she stood facing them all as half breathless
-with the excitement of the moment they stood in a
-row before her:</p>
-
-<p>“My three dear children!” she murmured.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>
-Gordon’s eyes lit with joy and his heart thrilled with
-the wonder of it all. Then the mother stepped up
-to him and placing her hand on his arm led him over
-to the couch and made him sit beside her, while the
-brother and sister sat down together close by.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, Cyril, my new son,” said she, deliberately,
-her eyes resting approvingly upon his face,
-“you may tell me your story. I see my girl has lost
-both head and heart to you and I doubt if she could
-tell it connectedly.”</p>
-
-<p>And while Celia and Jeff were laughing at this
-Gordon set about his task of winning a mother, and
-incidentally an eager-eyed young brother who was
-more than half committed to his cause already.</p>
-
-<p>Celia watched proudly as her handsome husband
-took out his credentials, and began his explanation.</p>
-
-<p>“First, I must tell you who I am, and these
-papers will do it better than I could. Will you look
-at them, please?”</p>
-
-<p>He handed her a few letters and papers.</p>
-
-<p>“These papers on the top show the rank and
-position that my father and my grandfather held
-with the government and in the army. This is a
-letter from the president to my father congratulating
-him on his approaching marriage with my
-mother. That paper contains my mother’s family
-tree, and the letters with it will give you an idea of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>
-the honor in which my mother’s family was held in
-Washington and in Virginia, her old home. I know
-these matters are not of much moment, and say
-nothing whatever about what I am myself, but they
-are things you would have been likely to know about
-my family if you had known me all my life; and at
-least they will tell you that my family was respectable.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hathaway was examining the papers, and
-suddenly looked up exclaiming: “My dear! My
-father knew your grandfather. I think I saw him
-once when he came to our home in New York. It
-was years ago and I was a young girl, but I remember
-he was a fine looking man with keen dark eyes,
-and a heavy head of iron gray hair.”</p>
-
-<p>She looked at Gordon keenly.</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder if your eyes are not like his. It was
-long ago of course.”</p>
-
-<p>“They used to say I looked like him. I do not
-remember him. He died when I was very young.”</p>
-
-<p>The mother looked up with a pleasant smile.</p>
-
-<p>“Now tell me about yourself,” she said and laid
-a gentle hand on his.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon looked down, an embarrassed flush
-spreading over his face.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s nothing great to tell,” he said. “I’ve
-always tried to live a straight true life, and I’ve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>
-never been in love with any girl before—” he flashed
-a wonderful, blinding smile upon Celia.</p>
-
-<p>“I was left alone in the world when quite young
-and have lived around in boarding-schools and college.
-I’m a graduate of Harvard and I’ve travelled
-a little. There was some money left from my
-father’s estate, not much. I’m not rich. I’m a
-Secret Service man, and I love my work. I get a
-good salary and was this morning promoted to the
-position next in rank to my chief, so that now I shall
-have still more money. I shall be able to make your
-daughter comfortable and give her some of the
-luxuries, if not all, to which she has been accustomed.”</p>
-
-<p>“My dear boy, that part is not what I am anxious
-about—” interrupted the mother.</p>
-
-<p>“I know,” said Gordon, “but it is a detail you
-have a right to be told. I understand that you care
-far more what I am than how much money I can
-make, and I promise you I am going to try to be all
-that you would want your daughter’s husband to be.
-Perhaps the best thing I can say for myself is that
-I love her better than my life, and I mean to make
-her happiness the dearest thing in life to me.”</p>
-
-<p>The mother’s look of deep understanding answered
-him more eloquently than words could have
-done, and after a moment she spoke again.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>“But I do not understand how you could have
-known one another and I never have heard of you.
-Celia is not good at keeping things from her mother,
-though the last three months she has had a sadness
-that I could not fathom, and was forced to lay to
-her natural dread of leaving home. She seemed so
-insistent upon having this marriage just as George
-planned it—and I was so afraid she would regret
-not waiting. How could you have known one another
-all this time and she never talked to me about
-it, and why did George Hayne have any part whatever
-in it if you two loved one another? Just how
-long have you known each other anyway? Did it
-begin when you visited in Washington last spring,
-Celia?”</p>
-
-<p>With dancing eyes Celia shook her head.</p>
-
-<p>“No, Mamma. If I had met him then I’m sure
-George Hayne would never have had anything to
-do with the matter, for Cyril would have known how
-to help me out of my difficulty.”</p>
-
-<p>“I shall have to tell you the whole story from
-my standpoint, and from the beginning,” said Gordon,
-dreading now that the crisis was upon him,
-what the outcome would be. “I have wanted you
-to know who and what I was before you knew the
-story, that you might judge me as kindly as possible,
-and know that however I may have been to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span>
-blame in the matter it was through no intention of
-mine. My story may sound rather impossible. I
-know it will seem improbable, but it is nevertheless
-true, everything that I have to tell. May I hope
-to be believed?”</p>
-
-<p>“I think you may,” answered the mother searching
-his face anxiously. “Those eyes of yours are
-not lying eyes.”</p>
-
-<p>“Thank you,” he said simply, and then gathering
-all his courage he plunged into his story.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Hathaway was watching him with searching
-interest. Jeff had drawn his chair up close and
-could scarcely restrain his excitement, and when
-Gordon told of his commission he burst forth
-explosively:</p>
-
-<p>“Gee! But that was a great stunt! I’d have
-liked to have been along with you! You must be
-simply great to be trusted with a thing like that!”</p>
-
-<p>But his mother gently reproved him:</p>
-
-<p>“Hush, my son, let us hear the story.”</p>
-
-<p>Celia sat quietly watching her husband with
-pride, two bright spots of color on her cheeks, and
-her hands clasping each other tightly. She was
-hearing many details now that were new to her.
-Once more, when Gordon mentioned the dinner at
-Holman’s Jeff interrupted with:</p>
-
-<p>“Holman! Holman! Not J. P.? Why of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>
-course—we know him! Celia was one of his
-daughter’s bridesmaids last spring! The old lynx!
-I always thought he was crooked! People hint a
-lot of things about him—”</p>
-
-<p>“Jeff, dear, let us hear the story,” again insisted
-his mother, and the story continued.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon had been looking down as he talked. He
-dreaded to see their faces as the truth should dawn
-upon them, but when he had told all he lifted honest
-eyes to the white-faced mother and pleaded with her:</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed, indeed, I hope you will believe me,
-that not until they laid your daughter’s hand in mine
-did I know that I was supposed to be the bridegroom.
-I thought all the time her brother was the
-bridegroom. If I had not been so distraught, and
-trying so hard to think how to escape, I suppose I
-would have noticed that I was standing next to her,
-and that everything was peculiar about the whole
-matter, but I didn’t. And then when I suddenly
-knew that she and I were being married, what should
-I have done? Do you think I ought to have stopped
-the ceremony then and there and made a scene before
-all those people? What was the right thing to do?
-Suppose my commission had been entirely out of
-the question, and I had had no duty toward the government
-to keep entirely quiet about myself, do you
-think I ought to have made a scene? Would you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>
-have wanted me to for your daughter’s sake? Tell
-me please,” he insisted, gently.</p>
-
-<p>And while she hesitated he added:</p>
-
-<p>“I did some pretty hard thinking during that
-first quarter of a second that I realized what was
-happening, and I tell you honestly I didn’t know
-what was the right thing to do. It seemed awful
-for her sake to make a scene, and to tell you the
-truth I worshipped her from the moment my eyes
-rested upon her. There was something sad and appealing
-as she looked at me that seemed to pledge
-my very life to save her from trouble. Tell me, do
-you think I ought to have stopped the ceremony then
-at the first moment of my realization that I was
-being married?”</p>
-
-<p>The mother’s face had softened as she watched
-him and listened to his tender words about Celia
-and now she answered gently:</p>
-
-<p>“I am not sure—perhaps not! It was a very
-grave question to face. I don’t know that I can
-blame you for doing nothing. It would have been
-terrible for her and us and everybody and have made
-it all so public. Oh, I think you did right not to do
-anything publicly—perhaps—and yet—it is terrible
-to me to think you have been forced to marry my
-daughter in that way.”</p>
-
-<p>“Please do not say forced,—<i>Mother</i>—” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>
-Gordon laying both hands earnestly upon hers and
-looking into her eyes, “I tell you one thing that held
-me back from doing anything was that I so earnestly
-desired that what I was passing through might be
-real and lasting. I have never seen one like her
-before. I know that if the mistake had been righted
-and she had passed out of my life I should never
-have felt the same again. I am glad, glad with all
-my heart that she is mine, and—Mother!—I think
-she is glad too!”</p>
-
-<p>The mother turned toward her daughter, and
-Celia with starry eyes came and knelt before them,
-and laid her hands in the hands of her husband, saying
-with ringing voice:</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, dear little Mother, I am gladder than I
-ever was before in my life.”</p>
-
-<p>And kneeling thus, with her husband’s arm about
-her, her face against his shoulder, and both her hands
-clasped in his, she told her mother about the tortures
-that George Hayne had put her through, until
-the mother turned white with horror at what her
-beloved and cherished child had been enduring, and
-the brother got up and stormed across the floor,
-vowing vengeance on the luckless head of poor
-George Hayne.</p>
-
-<p>Then after the mother had given her blessing to
-the two, and Jeff had added an original one of his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>
-own, there was the whole story of the eventful wedding
-trip to tell, which they both told by solos and
-choruses until the hour grew alarmingly late and
-the mother suddenly sent them all off to bed.</p>
-
-<p>The next few days were both busy and happy
-ones for the two. They went to the hospital and
-gladdened the life of the little newsboy with fruit
-and toys and many promises; and they brought home
-a happy white dog from his boarding place whom
-Jeff adopted as his own. Gordon had a trying hour
-or two at court with his one-time host, the scoundrel
-who had stolen the cipher message; and the thick-set
-man glared at him from a cell window as he passed
-along the corridor of the prison whither he had gone
-in search of George Hayne.</p>
-
-<p>Gordon in his search for the lost bridegroom,
-whom for many reasons he desired to find as soon as
-possible, had asked the help of one of the men at
-work on the Holman case, in searching for a certain
-George Hayne who needed very much to be brought
-to justice.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, you won’t have to search for him,” declared
-the man with a smile. “He’s safely landed
-in prison three days ago. He was caught as neatly
-as rolling off a log by the son of the man whose
-name he forged several years ago. It was trust
-money of a big corporation and the man died in his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>
-place in a prison cell, but the son means to see the
-real culprit punished.”</p>
-
-<p>And so Gordon, in the capacity of Celia’s lawyer,
-went to the prison to talk with George Hayne, and
-that miserable man found no excuse for his sins
-when the searching talk was over. Gordon did not
-let the man know who he was, and merely made it
-understood that Celia was married, and that if he
-attempted to make her any further trouble the whole
-thing would be exposed and he would have to answer
-a grave charge of blackmail.</p>
-
-<p>The days passed rapidly, and at last the New
-York matter for which Gordon’s presence was
-needed was finished, and he was free to sail away
-with his bride. On the morning of their departure
-Gordon’s voice rang out over the miles of telephone
-wires to his old chief in Washington: “I am married
-and am just starting on my wedding trip. Don’t
-you want to congratulate me?” And the old chief’s
-gruff voice sounded back:</p>
-
-<p>“Good work, old man! Congratulations for
-you both. She may or may not be the best girl in
-all the world; I haven’t had a chance to see yet; but
-she’s a lucky girl, for she’s got <i>the best man I know</i>.
-Tell her that for me! Bless you both! I’m glad
-she’s going with you. It won’t be so lonesome.”</p>
-
-<p>Gordon gave her the message that afternoon as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>
-they sailed straight into the sunshine of a new and
-beautiful life together.</p>
-
-<p>“Dear,” he said, as he arranged her steamer
-rug more comfortably about her, “has it occurred
-to you that you are probably the only bride who ever
-married the best man at her wedding?”</p>
-
-<p>Celia smiled appreciatively and after a minute
-replied mischievously:</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose every bride <i>thinks</i> her husband is the
-best man.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<div class="transnote">
-<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p>
-
-<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
-
-<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
-
-<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p>
-</div></div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST MAN ***</div>
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