Update from February 2, 2023

author: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-01-25 05:32:21 -0800
committer: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-01-25 05:32:21 -0800
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@@ -17,6 +17,8 @@ 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
@@ -3587,7 +3589,7 @@ 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.
+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.
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@@ -112,6 +112,7 @@ country where you are located before using this eBook.
 <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>
@@ -4802,7 +4803,7 @@ 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>
+seized hold of its handle.</p>
 
 <p>“I beg your pardon, you are not!” declared
 Gordon in a much more determined voice.</p>
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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.
+
+  Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEST MAN ***
+
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diff --git a/old/69514-h/69514-h.htm b/old/69514-h/69514-h.htm
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+++ b/old/69514-h/69514-h.htm
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+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <title>
+      The best man, by Grace Livingston Hill Lutz—A Project Gutenberg eBook
+    </title>
+    <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
+    <style>
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
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+
+hr.tb   {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
+hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
+@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
+
+div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
+h2.nobreak  {page-break-before: avoid;}
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+.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;}
+
+div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;}
+div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;}
+
+.large {font-size: 125%;}
+
+.caption  {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;}
+
+.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;}
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+    page-break-inside: avoid;
+    max-width: 100%;
+}
+
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+.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;}
+.poetry .verse  {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;}
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+
+@media print { .poetry {display: block;} }
+.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block; margin-left: 3em;}
+
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+    color: black;
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+     padding: 1em;
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+     font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
+
+</style>
+</head>
+<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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+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/69514-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/69514-h/images/cover.jpg
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diff --git a/old/69514-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/old/69514-h/images/coversmall.jpg
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--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/69514-h/images/coversmall.jpg
diff --git a/old/69514-h/images/i_frontis.jpg b/old/69514-h/images/i_frontis.jpg
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diff --git a/old/69514-h/images/i_title.jpg b/old/69514-h/images/i_title.jpg
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diff --git a/old/69514-h/images/i_titlelogo.jpg b/old/69514-h/images/i_titlelogo.jpg
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-25 05:32:21 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-01-25 05:32:21 -0800
commit	4e07420f62b8bcc552c5fd2bdab1af48652fa970 (patch)
tree	c118a6162f8dcd6bd8bc28ece6b326ba56b5f511
parent	38d1b0d0d95ce47381a5a7bd7041c8daff770263 (diff)