THE HERMIT OF ------ STREET. By Anna Katharine Green (Mrs. Charles Rohlfs) Copyright, 1898, by Anna Katharine Rohlfs CHAPTER I. I COMMIT AN INDISCRETION. I should have kept my eyes for the many brilliant and interesting sightsconstantly offered me. Another girl would have done so. I myself mighthave done so, had I been over eighteen, or, had I not come fromthe country, where my natural love of romance had been fostered byuncongenial surroundings and a repressed life under the eyes of a severeand unsympathetic maiden aunt. I was visiting in a house where fashionable people made life a perpetualholiday. Yet of all the pleasures which followed so rapidly, one uponanother, that I have difficulty now in separating them into distinctimpressions, the greatest, the only one I never confounded with anyother, was the hour I spent in my window after the day's dissipationswere all over, watching--what? Truth and the necessities of my storyoblige me to say--a man's face, a man's handsome but preoccupied face, bending night after night over a study-table in the lower room of thegreat house in our rear. I had been in the city three weeks, and I had already received--pardonthe seeming egotism of the confession--four offers, which, considering Ihad no fortune and but little education or knowledge of the great world, speaks well for something: I leave you to judge what. All of theseoffers were from young men; one of them from a very desirable young man, but I had listened to no one's addresses, because, after accepting them, I should have felt it wrong to contemplate so unremittingly the face, which, for all its unconsciousness of myself, held me spell-bound to anidea I neither stopped nor cared to analyze. Why, at such a distance and under circumstances of such distraction, didit affect me so? It was not a young face (Mr. Allison at that time wasthirty-five); neither was it a cheerful or even a satisfied one; butit was very handsome, as I have said; far too handsome, indeed, for aromantic girl to see unmoved, and it was an enigmatic face; one thatdid not lend itself to immediate comprehension, and that, to one of mytemperament, was a fatal attraction, especially as enough was known ofhis more than peculiar habits to assure me that character, rather thanwhim, lay back of his eccentricities. But first let me explain more fully my exact position in regard to thisgentleman on that day in early spring, destined to be such a memorableone in my history. I had never seen him, save in the surreptitious way I have related, andhe had never seen me. The day following my arrival in the city I hadnoticed the large house in our rear, and had asked some questions aboutit. This was but natural, for it was one of the few mansions in thegreat city with an old-style lawn about it. Besides, it had a peculiarlysecluded and secretive look, which even to my unaccustomed eyes, gave itan appearance strangely out of keeping with the expensive but otherwiseordinary houses visible in all other directions. The windows--and therewere many--were all shuttered and closed, with the exception of thethree on the lower floor and two others directly over these. On the topstory they were even boarded up, giving to that portion of the housea blank and desolate air, matched, I was told, by that of the largedrawing-room windows on either side of the front door, which faced, asyou must see, on another street. The grounds which, were more or less carefully looked after, wereseparated from the street by a brick wall, surmounted by urns, fromwhich drooped the leafless tendrils of some old vines; but in the rear, that is, in our direction, the line of separation was marked by ahigh iron fence, in which, to my surprise, I saw a gate, which, though padlocked now, marked old habits of intercourse, interestingto contemplate, between the two houses. Through this fence I caughtglimpses of the green turf and scattered shrubs of a yard which had oncesloped away to the avenues on either side, and, more interestingstill, those three windows whose high-drawn shades offered such a vividcontrast to the rest of the house. In one of these windows stood a table, with a chair before it. I had asyet seen no one in the chair, but I had noted that the table was heavilycovered with papers and books, and judged that the room was a libraryand the table that of a busy man engaged in an endless amount of studyand writing. The Vandykes, whom I had questioned on the matter, were very short intheir replies. Not because the subject was uninteresting, or one theyin any way sought to avoid, but because the invitations to a great partyhad just come in, and no other topic was worthy their discussion. But Ilearned this much. That the house belonged to one of New York's oldestfamilies. That its present owner was a widow of great eccentricity ofcharacter, who, with her one child, a daughter, unfortunately blind frombirth, had taken up her abode in some foreign country, where she thoughther child's affliction would attract less attention than in hernative city. The house had been closed to the extent I have mentioned, immediately upon her departure, but had not been left entirely empty. Mr. Allison, her man of business, had moved into it, and, being fullyas eccentric as herself, had contented himself for five years with asolitary life in this dismal mansion, without friends, almost withoutacquaintances, though he might have had unlimited society and any amountof attention, his personal attractions being of a very uncommonorder, and his talent for business so pronounced, that he was alreadyrecognized at thirty-five as one of the men to be afraid of in WallStreet. Of his birth and connections little was known; he was calledthe Hermit of ------ Street, and--well, that is about all they told me atthis time. After I came to see him (as I did that very evening), I could ask nofurther questions concerning him. The beauty of his countenance, themystery of his secluded life, the air of melancholy and mental distresswhich I imagined myself to detect in his manner--he often used to sitfor minutes together with his eyes fixed on vacancy and his whole faceexpressive of the bitterest emotion--had wrought this spell upon myimagination, and I could no more mingle his name with that of theordinary men and women we discussed than I could confound his solitaryand expressive figure with the very proper but conventional forms of thesimpering youths who followed me in parlors or begged to be allowed thehonor of a dance at the balls I attended with the Vandykes. He occupiedan unique place in my regard, and this without another human being'sknowledge. I wish I could say without my own; but, alas! I have promisedmyself to be true in all the details of this history, and, child as Iwas, I could not be ignorant of the fascination which held me for hoursat my window when I should have been in bed and asleep. But let me hasten to the adventure which put an end to my dreams bylaunching me into realities of a still more absorbing nature. I was notvery well one day, and even Mrs. Vandyke acknowledged that it would notdo for me to take the long-planned drive to Tuxedo. So, as I would notlet any one else miss this pleasure on my account, I had been left alonein the house, and, not being ill enough for bed, had spent the mostof the morning in my window--not because he was in his; I was yet tootimid, and, let me hope, too girlishly modest, to wish to attract inany way his attention--but because the sun shone there, and I was justchilly enough to enjoy its mingled light and heat. Thus it was I came tonotice the following petty occurrence. In the yard of the house next tothat occupied by Mr. Allison was kept a tame rabbit, which often tookadvantage of a hole it had made for itself under the dividing fence toroam over the neighboring lawn. On this day he was taking his%c-customedramble, when something startled him, and he ran, not back to his hole, but to our fence, through which he squeezed himself, evidently to hisown great discomfort; for once in our yard, and under the refuge of asmall bush he found there, nothing would lure him back, though everyeffort was made to do so, both by the small boy to whom he belonged, andthe old serving-man or gardener, who was the only other person besidesMr. Allison whom I ever saw on the great place. Watching them, I notedthree things: first, that it was the child who first thought of openingthe gate; secondly, that it was the serving-man who brought the key;and, thirdly, that after the gate had been opened and the rabbitrecovered, the gate had not been locked again; for, just as the man wasabout to do this, a call came from the front, of so imperative a nature, that he ran forward, without readjusting the padlock, and did not comeback, though I watched for him in idle curiosity for a good half-hour. This was in the morning. At seven o'clock--how well I remember thehour!--I was sitting again in my window, waiting for the return of theVandykes, and watching the face which had now reappeared at its usualplace in the study. It was dark everywhere save there, and I wasmarveling over the sense of companionship it gave me under circumstancesof loneliness, which some girls might have felt most keenly, whensuddenly my attention was drawn from him to a window in the story overhis head, by the rapid blowing in and out of a curtain, which had beenleft hanging loose before an open sash. As there was a lighted gas-jetnear by, I watched the gyrating muslin with some apprehension, and wasmore shocked than astonished when, in another moment, I saw the flimsyfolds give one wild flap and flare up into a brilliant and dangerousflame. To shriek and throw up my window was the work of a moment, butI attracted no attention by these means, and, what was worse, saw, withfeelings which may be imagined, that nothing I could do would be likelyto arouse Mr. Allison to an immediate sense of his danger, for not onlywere the windows shut between us, but he was lost in one of his broodingspells, which to all appearance made him quite impassible to surroundingevents. "Will no one see? Will no one warn him?" I cried out, in terror of theflames burning so brightly in the room above him. Seemingly not. Noother window was raised in the vicinity, and, frightened quite beyondthe exercise of reason or any instincts of false modesty, I dashed outof my room downstairs, calling for the servants. But Lucy was in thefront area and Ellen above, and I was on the back porch and in thegarden before either of them responded. Meanwhile, no movement was observable in the brooding figure of Mr. Allison, and no diminution in the red glare which now filled the roomabove him. To see him sitting there so much at his ease, and to beholdat the same moment the destruction going on so rapidly over his head, affected me more than I can tell, and casting to the winds all selfishconsiderations, I sprang through the gate so providentially left ajarand knocked with all my might on a door which opened upon a side porchnot many feet away from the spot where he sat so unconcernedly. The moment I had done this I felt like running away again, but hearinghis advancing step, summoned up my courage and stood my ground bravely, determined to say one word and run. But when the door opened and I found myself face to face with the manwhose face I knew only too well, that word, important as it was, stuckin my throat; for, agitated as I was, both by my errand and my suddenencounter with one I had dreamed about for weeks, he seemed to be muchmore so, though by other reasons--by far other reasons--than myself. Hewas so moved--was it by the appearance of a strange young girl on hisdoorstep, or was it at something in my face or manner, or some-thing inhis thoughts to which that face or manner gave a shock?--that my pettyfears for the havoc going on above seemed to pale into insignificancebefore the emotions called up by my presence. Confronting me withdilating eyes, he faltered slowly back till his natural instincts ofcourtesy recalled him to himself, and he bowed, when I found courage tocry: "Fire! Your house is on fire! Up there, overhead!" The sound which left his lips as these words slipped from mine struckme speechless again. Appalling as the cry "Fire!" is at all times and toall men, it roused in this man at this time something beyond anything mygirlish soul had ever imagined of terror or dismay. So intense were thefeelings I saw aroused in him that I expected to see him rush into theopen air with loud cries for help. But instead of that, he pushed thedoor to behind me, and locking me in, said, in a strange and hoarsenedtone? "Don't call out, don't make any sound or outcry, and above all, don'tlet any one in; I will fight the flames alone!" and seizing a lamp fromthe study-table, he dashed from me towards a staircase I could faintlysee in the distance. But half-way down the hall he looked back at me, and again I saw that look on his face which had greeted my unexpectedappearance in the doorway. Alas! it was a thrilling look--a look which no girl could sustainwithout emotion; and spellbound under it, I stood in a maze, alone andin utter darkness, not knowing whether to unlock the door and escape orto stand still and wait for his reappearance, as he evidently expectedme to do. Meanwhile, the alarm had spread, and more than one cry arose from thehouses in the rear. I could hear feet running over the walks without, and finally a knock on the door I was leaning against, followed by thecry: "Let us in! Fire! fire!" But I neither moved nor answered. I was afraid to be found there, crouching alone in a bachelor's residence, but I was equally afraid ofdisobeying him, for his voice had been very imperious when he commandedme not to let any one in; and I was too young to brave such a nature, even if I had wished to, which I do not think I did. "He is overhead! See him--see him!" I now heard shouted from the lawn. "He has dragged the curtains down! He is showering the walls with water!Look--look! how wildly he works! He will be burnt himself. Ah! ah!"All of which gave me strange thrills, and filled the darkness whichencompassed me with startling pictures, till I could hardly stand thestress or keep myself from rushing to his assistance. While my emotions were at their height a bell rang. It was the frontdoorbell, and it meant the arrival of the engines. "Oh!" thought I, "what shall I do now? If I run out I shall encounterhalf the neighborhood in the back yard; if I stay here how shall I beable to meet the faces of the firemen who will come rushing in?" But I was not destined to suffer from either contingency. As the bellrang a second time, a light broke on the staircase I was so painfullywatching, and Mr. Allison descended, lamp in hand, as he had gone up. Heappeared calm now, and without any show of emotion proceeded at once tothe front door, which he opened. What passed between him and the policeman whose voice I heard in thehall, I do not know. I heard them go up-stairs and presently come downagain, and I finally heard the front door close. Then I began to makean effort to gain some control over my emotions, for I knew he had notforgotten me, and that he soon would be in the vestibule at my side. But it was impossible for me to hope to meet him with an unconcernedair. The excitement I was under and the cold--for I was dressed lightlyand the vestibule was chilly--had kept me trembling so, that my curlshad fallen all about my cheeks, and one had fallen so low that ithung in shameful disorder to my very waist. This alone was enough todisconcert me, but had my heart been without its secret--a secret I wasin mortal terror of disclosing in my confusion--I could have risen abovemy embarrassment and let simple haste been my excuse. As it was, I musthave met him with a pleading aspect, very much like that of a frightenedchild, for his countenance visibly changed as he approached me, andshowed quite an extraordinary kindness, if not contrition, as he pausedin the narrow vestibule with the blazing lamp held low in his hand. "My little girl, " he began, but instantly changed the phrase to "Mydear young lady, how can I thank you enough, and how can I sufficientlyexpress my regret at having kept you a prisoner in this blazing house? Ifear I have frightened you sorely, but---" And here, to my astonishment, he found nothing to say, moved overmuch by some strong feeling, orchecked in his apologies by some great embarrassment. Astonished, for he did not look like a man who could be lightlydisturbed, I glowed a fiery red and put my hand out towards the door. Instantly he found speech again. "One moment, " said he. "I feel that I ought to explain the surprise, theconsternation, which made me forget. You know this is not my house, that I am here in trust for another, that the place is full of raretreasures. " Had he stopped again? I was in such a state of inner perturbation thatI hardly knew whether he had ceased to speak or I to hear. Something, I did not know what, had shaken my very life's center--something in theshape of dread, yet so mixed with delight that my hand fell from theknob I had been blindly groping for and sank heavily at my side. Hiseyes had not left my face. "May I ask whom I have the honor of addressing?" he asked, in a tone Imight better never have heard from his lips. To this I must make reply. Shuddering, for I felt something uncannyin the situation, but speaking up, notwithstanding, with the round andvibrating tones I had inherited from my mother, I answered, with thenecessary simplicity: "I am Delight Hunter, a country girl, sir, visiting the Vandykes. " A flash that was certainly one of pleasure lighted up his face with abrilliance fatal to my poor, quivering girl's heart. "Allow me, Miss Hunter, to believe that you will not bring down theindignation of my neighbors upon me by telling them of my carelessnessand indiscretion. " Then, as my lips settled into a determined curve, he himself opened the door, and bowing low, asked if I would accept hisprotection to the gate. But at the rush of the night air, such a sensation of shame overpoweredme that I only thought of retreat; and, declining his offer with awild shake of the head, I dashed from the house and fled with anincomprehensible sense of relief back to that of the Vandykes. Theservants, who had seen me rush towards Mr. Allison's, were still in theyard watching for me. I did not vouchsafe them a word. I could hardlyformulate words in my own mind. A great love and a great dread hadseized upon me at once. A great love for the man by whose face I hadbeen moved for weeks and a great dread--well, I cannot explain mydread, not as I felt it that night. It was formless and without apparentfoundation; but it would no more leave me than my uneasy memory of thefierce instinct which had led him at such a critical instant to closehis door against all help, though in so doing he had subjected a younggirl to many minutes of intense embarrassment and mortifying indecision. CHAPTER II. A STRANGE WEDDING BREAKFAST. Mr. Allison, who had never before been known to leave his books andpapers, not only called the next day to express his gratitude for whathe was pleased to style my invaluable warning, but came every day after, till not only my heart but my reason told me that the great house in therear might ultimately be my home, if the passion which had now become mylife should prove greater than the dread which had not yet entirely leftme. Mr. Allison loved me--oh, what pride in the thought!--but Mr. Allisonhad a secret, or why did he so often break off abruptly in some telltalespeech and drop his eyes, which were otherwise always upon me. Somethingnot easy to understand lay between us--something which he alternatelydefied and succumbed to, something which kept him from being quite thegood man I had pictured myself as marrying. Why I was so certain of thislatter fact, I cannot say. Perhaps my instinct was keen; perhaps thesigns of goodness are so unmistakable that even a child feels their wantwhere her heart leans hardest. Yet everything I heard of him only tended to raise him in my estimation. After he became an habitué of the house, Mrs. Vandyke grew morecommunicative in regard to him. He was eccentric, of course, but hiseccentricities were such as did him credit. One thing she told me madea lasting impression on me. Mrs. Ransome, the lady in whose house helived, had left her home very suddenly. He anticipated a like return;so, ever since her departure, it had been his invariable custom to havethe table set for three, so that he might never be surprised by herarrival. It had become a monomania with him. Never did he sit downwithout there being enough before him for a small family, and as hisfood was all brought in cooked from a neighboring restaurant, thiseccentricity of his was well known, and gave an added _éclat_ to hisotherwise hermit-like habits. To my mind, it added an element of pathosto his seclusion, and so affected me that one day I dared to remark tohim: "You must have liked Mrs. Ransome very much you are so faithful in yourremembrance of her. " I never presumed again to attack any of his foibles. He gave me firsta hard look, then an indulgent one, and finally managed to say, after amoment of quiet hesitation: "You allude to my custom of setting two chairs at the table to whichthey may return at any minute? Miss Hunter, what I do in the lonelinessof that great house is not worth the gossip of those who surround you. " Flushing till I wished my curls would fall down and hide my cheeks, I tried to stammer out some apology. But he drove it back with apassionate word: "Delight, idol of my heart, come and see what a lonely place that oldhouse is. Come and live in that house--at least for a little time, tillI can arrange for you a brighter and a happier home--come and be mywife. " It was sudden, it was all but unlooked-for, and like all his expressionsof feeling, frenzied rather than resolute. But it was a declaration thatmet my most passionate longings, and in the elation it brought I forgotfor the moment the doubts it called up. Otherwise I had been a womanrather than a girl, and this tale had never been written. "You love me, Delight" (he was already pressing me in his arms), "youlove me or you would never have rushed so impetuously to warn me of mydanger that night. Make me the maddest, happiest man in all the worldby saying you will not wait; that you will not ask counsel of anybodyor anything but your affection, but marry me at once; marry me while myheart yearns for you so deeply; marry me before I go away----" "Go away?" "Yes, I am going away. Mrs. Ransome and her daughter are coming back andI am going away. Will you go with me?" With what intensity he spoke, yet with what hardness. I quivered whileI listened, yet I made no move to withdraw from him. Had he asked me tostep with him from the housetop I should hardly have refused while hisheart throbbed so wildly against mine and his eyes lured me on with sucha promise of ecstasy. "You will?" How peremptory he could be. "You will?" How triumphant, also. I hardly realized what I had done till I stood abashed before Mrs. Vandyke, and told her I had engaged myself to marry Mr. Allison beforehe went to Europe. Then it seemed I had done a very good thing. Shecongratulated me heartily, and, seeing I had a certain fear of taking myaunt into my confidence, promised to sit down and write to her herself, using every encomium she could think of to make this sudden marriage, onmy part, seem like the result of reason and wise forethought. "Such an estimable man! such an old neighbor! so domestic in his tastes!and, oh! so wise to find out and make his own the slyest and mostbewildering little beauty that has come into New York this many aseason!" These were some of her words, and, though pleasing at the time, they made me think deeply--much more deeply than I wished to, after Iwent upstairs to my room. "Estimable! an old neighbor! domestic in his tastes!" Had she said:"Handsome! masterful in his air and spirit! a man to make a girl forgetthe real end of life and think only of present pleasure!" I should nothave had such a fierce reaction. But estimable! Was he estimable? Itried to cry out yes! I tried to keep down the memory of that momentwhen, with a dozen passions suddenly let loose (one of them fear), hestrode by me and locked the door against all help, under an impetus hehad tried in vain to explain. Nothing would quiet the still, small voicespeaking in my breast, or give to the moment that unalloyed joy whichbelongs to a young girl's betrothal. I was afraid. Why? Mr. Allison never came in the evening, another of his peculiarities. Other men did, but what were other men to me now? This night I pleadedweariness (Mrs. Vandyke understood me), and remained in my room. Iwanted to study the face of my lover under the new conditions. Was hein his old seat? Yes. And would he read, as usual, or study? No. He hadthoughts of his own to-night, engrossing enough to hold him enthralledwithout the aid of his ordinary occupations; thoughts, thoughts of me, thoughts which should have cleared his brow and made his face a study ofdelight to me. But was it so? Alas! I had never seen it so troubled; litwith gleams of hope or happiness by spells, but mostly sunk in depths ofprofoundest contemplation, which gave to it a melancholy from which Ishrank, and not the melancholy one longs to comfort and allay. What wason his mind? What was in his heart? Something he feared to have noted, for suddenly he rose with a start, and, for the first time since my eyeshad sought that window, pulled down the shades and thus shut himself outfrom my view altogether. Was it a rebuke to my insistent watchfulness?or the confession of a reticent nature fearing to be surprised in itsmoment of weakness? I ought to know--I would know. To-morrow I would askhim if there was any sorrow in his life which a confiding girl ought tobe made acquainted with before she yielded him her freedom. But the pangwhich pierced me at the thought, proved that I feared his answer toomuch to ever question him. I am thus explicit in regard to my thoughts and feelings at this time, that I may more fully account to you for what I did later. I had not, what every one else seemed to have, full confidence in this man, and yetthe thrall in which I was held by the dominating power of his passion, kept me from seeking that advice even from my own intuitions, whichmight have led to my preservation. I was blind and knew I was blind, yetrushed on headlong. I asked him no questions till our wedding day. My aunt, who seemed quite satisfied with Mrs. Vandyke's explanations, promised to be present at the ceremony, which was set at an alarminglynear day. My lovers on the contrary--by whom I mean the half dozen menwho had been attentive to me--refused to attend, so I had one care less;for the lack of time--perhaps I should say my lack of means--precludedme from obtaining a very elaborate wedding dress, and I did not chooseto have them see me appear on such an occasion in any less charmingguise than I had been accustomed to wear at party or play. _He_ did notcare what I wore. When I murmured something about the haste with whichhe had hurried things forward, and how it was likely to interfere withwhat most brides considered necessary to the proper celebration of suchan event, he caught me to his breast with a feverish gesture and vowedthat if he could have his way, there would be no preparation at all, butjust a ceremony before a minister which would make me his without theleast delay. Men may enjoy such precipitation, but women do not. I was so troubled bywhat seemed the meagerness of my wardrobe and the lack of everythingI had been accustomed to see brides bring their husbands, that I askedMrs. Vandyke one day if Mr. Allison was a rich man. She answered, witha smile: "No, my dear, not as we New-Yorkers count riches. Having thepower of attorney for Mrs. Ransome, he handles a good deal of money;but very little of it is his own, though to you his five-thousand-a-yearsalary may seem a fortune. " This was so much Greek to me, though I did understand he was notconsidered wealthy. "Then my fawn-colored cloth will not be so very inappropriate for awedding dress?" I asked. "I wish you could see yourself in it, " she said, and that satisfied me. We were married simply, but to the sound of wonderful music, in acertain little church not far from ------ Street. My aunt was there andmy four lovers, though they had said, one and all, they would not come. But I saw nothing, realized nothing, save the feverish anxiety of mybridegroom, who, up to the minute the final vows were uttered, seemed tobe on a strain of mingled emotions, among which I seemed to detect thatold one of fear. A pitiful outlook for an adoring bride, you will think, who, without real friends to interest themselves in her, allows herselfto be pushed to a brink she is wise enough to see, but not strong enoughto recoil from. Yes, but its full pathos did not strike me then. I onlyfelt anxious to have the ceremony over, to know that the die wascast beyond my own powers of retraction; and when the words of thebenediction at last fell upon my ears, it was with real joy I turned tosee if they brought him as much rapture as they did me. Happily for thatmoment's satisfaction they did, and if a friend had been there with eyesto see and heart to feel, there would have been nothing in the air ofopen triumph with which Mr. Allison led me down the aisle to awakenaught but hope and confidence. My own hopes rose at the sight, and whenat the carriage door he turned to give me a smile before he helped mein, nothing but the obstinacy of my nature prevented me from acceptingthe verdict of my acquaintances, "That for a little country girl, withnothing but her good looks to recommend her, Delight Hunter had doneremarkably well in the one short month she had been in the city. " Mr. Allison had told me that it would be impossible for him to takeme out of the city at present. It was therefore to the house on ------Street we were driven. On the way he attempted to reconcile me to whathe feared might strike me as dreary in the prospect. "The house is partially closed, " said he, "and many of the rooms arelocked. Even the great drawing-rooms have an uninhabited look, whichwill make them anything but attractive to a lover of sunshine andcomfort; but the library is cheerful, and in that you can sit andimagine yourself at home till lean wind up my business affairs and makepossible the trip upon which I have set my heart. " "Does that mean, " I faintly ventured, "that you will leave me to spendmuch of my time alone in that great echoing house?" "No, " was his quick response, "you shall spend no time there alone. WhenI go out you shall go too, and if business takes me where you cannotaccompany me I will give you money to shop with, which will keep youpleasantly occupied till I can rejoin you. Oh, we will make it a happyhoneymoon, in spite of all obstacles, my darling. I should be a wretchif I did not make it happy for _you_. " Here was my opportunity. I trembled as I thought of it, and stammeredquite like a foolish child as I softly suggested: "For me? Is it not likely to be a happy one for _you?_" I will not give his answer; it was a passionate one, but it was notconvincing. Pondering it and trying to persuade myself he alluded onlyto business cares and anxieties, I let the minute slip by and enteredthe house with doubts unsolved, but with no further effort to understandhim. Remember, he was thirty-five and I but a chit of eighteen. In the hall stood the old serving-man with whose appearance I wasalready so familiar. He had a smile on his face, which formed my onlywelcome. He also had a napkin over his arm. "Luncheon is served, " he announced, with great formality; and then I sawthrough an open door the glitter of china and glass, and realized I wasabout to take my first meal with my husband. Mr. Allison had already told me that he intended to make no changes inhis domestic arrangements for the few days we were likely to occupy thishouse. I had therefore expected that our meals would be served from therestaurant, and that Ambrose (the waiting-man) would continue to be theonly other occupant of the house. But I was not sure whether the tablewould be still set for four, or whether he would waive this old customnow that he had a wife to keep him company at the once lonely board. Iwas eager to know, and as soon as I could lay aside my hat in the littlereception-room, I turned my face towards the dining-room door, where myhusband stood awaiting me with a bunch of great white roses in his hand. "Sweets to the sweet, " said he, with a smile that sunk down deep intomy heart and made my eyes moisten with joy. In the hackneyed expressionthere rang nothing false. He was proud and he was glad to see me enterthat dining-room as his wife. The next moment I was before the board, which had been made as beautifulas possible with flowers and the finest of dinner services. But thetable was set for four, two of whom could only be present in spirit. I wondered if I were glad or sorry to see it--if I were more pleasedwith his loyalty to his absent employer, or disappointed that mypresence had not made everybody else forgotten. To be consistent, Ishould have rejoiced at this evidence of sterling worth on his part; butgirls are not consistent--at least, brides of an hour are not--and I mayhave pouted the least bit in the world as I pointed to the two placesset as elaborately as our own, and said with the daring which comes withthe rights of a wife: "It would be a startling coincidence if Mrs. Ransome and her daughtershould return today. I fear I would not like it. " I was looking directly at him as I spoke, with a smile on my lips and myhand on the back of my chair. But the jest I had expected in reply didnot come. Something in my tone or choice of topic jarred upon him, andhis answer was a simple wave of his hand towards Ambrose, who at oncerelieved me of my bouquet, placing it in a tall glass at the side of myplate. "Now we will sit, " said he. I do not know how the meal would have passed had Ambrose not beenpresent. As it was, it was a rather formal affair, and would have beenslightly depressing, if I had not caught, now and then, flashing glancesfrom my husband's eye which assured me that he found as much to enchainhim in my presence as I did in his. What we ate I have no idea of. Ionly remember that in every course there was enough for four. As we rose, I was visited by a daring impulse. Ambrose had poured me outa glass of wine, which stood beside my plate undisturbed. As I stoopedto recover my flowers again, I saw this glass, and at once lifted ittowards him, crying: "To Mrs. Ransome and her daughter, who did _not_ return to enjoy ourwedding-breakfast. " He recoiled. Yes, I am sure he gave a start back, though he recoveredhimself immediately and responded with grave formality to my toast. "Does he not like Mrs. Ransome?" I thought. "Is the somewhat onerouscustom he maintains here the result of a sense of duty rather than ofliking?" My curiosity was secretly whetted by the thought. But with a girl'slightness I began to talk of other things, and first of the house, whichI now for the first time looked at with anything like seeing eyes. He was patient with me, but I perceived he did not enjoy this topic anymore than the former one. "It is not ours, " he kept saying; "rememberthat none of these old splendors are ours. " "They are more ours than they are Mrs. Ransome's, just now, " I at lastretorted, with one of my girlhood's saucy looks. "At all events, I amgoing to play that it is ours tonight, " I added, dancing away from himtowards the long drawing-rooms where I hoped to come upon a picture ofthe absent lady of the house. "Delight "--he was quite peremptory now-- "I must ask you not to enter those rooms, however invitingly the doorsmay stand open. It is a notion, a whim of mine, that you do not lendyour beauty to light up that ghostly collection of old pictures and uglyupholstery, and if you feel like respecting my wishes----" "But may I not stand in the doorway?" I asked, satisfied at having beenable to catch a glimpse of a full-length portrait of a lady who couldbe no other than Mrs. Ransome. "See! my shadow does not even fallacross the carpet. I won't do the room any harm, and I am sure that Mrs. Ransome's picture won't do me any. " "Come! come away!" he cried; and humoring his wishes, I darted away, this time in the direction of the dining-room and Ambrose. "My dear, "remonstrated my husband, quickly following me, "what has brought youback here?" "I want to see, " said I, "what Ambrose does with the food we did noteat. Such a lot of it!" It was childish, but then I was a child and a nervous one, too. Perhapshe considered this, for, while he was angry enough to turn pale, he didnot attempt any rebuke, but left it to Ambrose to say: "Mr. Allison is very good, ma'am. This food, which is very nice, isgiven each day to a poor girl who comes for it, and takes it home to herparents. I put it in this basket, and Mr. Allison gives it to the girlwhen she calls for it in the evening. " "You _are_ good, " I cried, turning to my husband with a fond look. Didhe think the em-phasis misplaced, or did he consider it time for meto begin to put on more womanly ways, for drawing me again into thelibrary, he made me sit beside him on the big lounge, and after a kissor two, demanded quietly, but oh, how peremptorily: "Delight, why do you so often speak of Mrs. Ransome? Have you any reasonfor it? Has any one talked to you about her, that her name seems to bealmost the only one on your lips in the few, short minutes we have beenmarried?" I did not know why this was so, myself, so I only shook my head andsighed, repentingly. Then, seeing that he would have some reply, Ianswered with what _naiveté_ I could summon up at the moment: "I think it was because you seem so ashamed of your devotion to them. Ilove to see your embarrassment, founded as it is upon the most generousinstincts. " His hand closed over mine with a fierceness that hurt me. "Let us talk of love, " he whispered. "Delight, this is our wedding-day. " CHAPTER III. ONE BEAD FROM A NECKLACE. After supper Mr. Allison put before me a large book. "Amuse yourselfwith these pictures, " said he; "I have a little task to perform. Afterit is done I will come again and sit with you. " "You are not going out, " I cried, starting up. "No, " he smiled, "I amnot going out. " I sank back and opened the book, but I did not look atthe pictures. Instead of that I listened to his steps moving aboutthe house, rear and front, and finally going up what seemed to be aservant's staircase, for I could see the great front stairs from whereI sat, and there was no one on them. "Why do I not hear his feetoverhead?" I asked myself. "That is the only room he has given me leaveto enter. Does his task take him elsewhere?" Seemingly so, for, thoughhe was gone a good half hour, he did not enter the room above. Whyshould I think of so small a matter? It would be hard to say; perhapsI was afraid of being left in the great rooms alone; perhaps I was onlycurious; but I asked myself a dozen times before he reappeared, "Whereis he gone, and why does he stay away so long?" But when he returned andsat down I said nothing. There was a little thing I noted, however. Hishands were trembling, and it was five minutes before he met my inquiringlook. This I should not consider worth mentioning if I had not observedthe same hesitancy follow the same disappearance up-stairs on thesucceeding night. It was the only time in the day when he really leftme, and, when he came back, he was not like himself for a good half houror more. "I will not displease him with questions, " I decided; "but someday I will find my own way into those lofts above. I shall never be atrest till I do. " What I expected to find there is as much a mystery to my understandingas my other doubts and fears. I hardly think I expected to find anythingbut a desk of papers, or a box with money in it or other valuables. Still the idea that something on the floor above had power to shadow myhusband's face, even in the glow of his first love for me, possessedme so completely that, when he fell asleep one evening on the librarylounge, I took the opportunity of stealing away and mounting theforbidden staircase to the third floor. I had found a candle in mybedroom, and this I took to light me. But it revealed nothing to meexcept a double row of unused rooms, with dust on the handles of all thedoors. I scrutinized them all; for, young as I was, I had wit enough tosee that if I could find one knob on which no dust lay that would be theone my husband was accustomed to turn. But every one showed tokens ofnot having been touched in years, and, baffled in my search, I was aboutto retreat, when I remembered that the house had four stories, andthat I had not yet come upon the staircase leading to the one above. A hurried search (for I was mortally afraid of being surprised by myhusband, ) revealed to me at last a distant door, which had no dust onits knob. It lay at the bottom of a shut-in stair-case, and, convincedthat here was, the place my husband was in the habit of visiting, Icarefully fingered the knob, which turned very softly in my hand. Butit did not open the door. There was a lock visible just below, and thatlock was fastened. My first escapade was without visible results, but I was uneasy fromthat hour. I imagined all sorts of things hidden beyond that closed, door. I remembered that the windows of the fourth story were all boardedup, and asked myself why this had been done when the lower ones had beenleft open. I was young, but I had heard of occupations which could onlybe entered into by a man secretly. Did he amuse himself with forbiddentasks in that secluded place above, or was I but exaggerating factswhich might have their basis simply in a quondam bachelor's desire forsolitude and a quiet smoke. "I will follow him up some night, " thoughtI, "and see if I cannot put an end at once to my unworthy fears andunhappy suspicions. " But I never did; something happened very soon toprevent me. I was walking one morning in the grounds that lay about the house, whensuddenly I felt something small but perceptibly hard strike my hat andbound quickly off. Astonished, for I was under no tree, under nothingindeed but the blue of heaven, I looked about for the object that hadstruck me. As I did so, I perceived my husband in his window, but hiseyes, while upon me, did not see me, for no change passed over him as Igroped about in the grass. "In one of his contemplative moods, " thoughtI, continuing my search. In another instant I started up. I had found alittle thing like a bullet wrapped up in paper; but it was no bullet; itwas a bead, a large gold bead, and on the paper which surrounded it werewritten words so fine I could not at first decipher them, but as soon asI had stepped away far enough to be out of the reach of the eyes I bothloved and feared more than any in the world, I managed, by dint of greatpatience, and by placing the almost transparent paper on which they werewritten over one of the white satin strings of the cape I wore, to readthese words: "Help from the passing stranger! I am Elizabeth Ransome, owner of thehouse in which I have been imprisoned five years. Search for me inthe upper story. You will find me there with my blind daughter. He whoplaced us here is below; beware his cunning. " And underneath, these words: "This is the twenty-fifth attempt I have made to attract attention toour unhappy fate. I can make but two more. There are but two beads leftof Theresa's necklace. " "What is the matter, ma'am? Are you ill?" It was Ambrose; I knew hisvoice. Crushing the paper in my hand, I tried to look up; but it was in vain. The sting of sudden and complete disillusion had struck me to the heart;I knew my husband to be a villain. CHAPTER IV. I LEARN HYPOCRISY. Only eighteen, but from that moment, a woman. Sunk in horror as I was, I yet had wit enough to clap my hands to my head and say I had beendazzled by the sun. Ambrose, who, in the week I had been with them, had shown himselfdelighted with the change my coming had made in the house, lookedalarmed at this and wanted to call Mr. Allison; but I forbade him, andsaid I would go in by myself, which I did under a stress of will-powerrarely exercised, I dare believe, by a girl so young and so miserable. "What shall I say to him? how shall I meet him? how can I hide myknowledge and act as if this thing had never been?" For even in thatrush of confusing emotions I recognized one fact; that I must not betrayby look or word that I knew his dreadful secret. If he were villainenough to keep a woman, and that woman the rightful owner of theproperty he was himself enjoying, in a prison he had made for her inher own house, then he was villain enough to strangle the one who haddiscovered this fact, were she the cherished darling of his seared andcalculating heart. I was afraid of him now that I knew him, yet I neverthought of flying his presence or revealing his crime. He was, villainor no villain, my husband, and nothing could ever undo that fact or makeit true that I had never loved him. So I went in, but went in slowly and with downcast eyes. The bead andthe paper I had dropped into my _vinaigrette_, which fortunately hung atmy side. "Humphrey, " I said, "when are we going to leave this house? I begin tofind it lonesome. " He was preparing to gather up his papers for his accustomed trip downtown, but he stopped as I spoke, and look at me curiously. "You are pale, " he remarked, "change and travel will benefit you. Dearest, we will try to sail for Europe in a week. " A week! What did he mean? Leave his prisoners--alas, I understood hisjourneys to the top of the house now--and go away to Europe? I feltmyself grow livid at the thought, and caught a spray of lilac from thetable where I stood and held it to my face. "Will your business affairs warrant it?" I asked. "Are you sure Mrs. Ransome's affairs will not suffer by your absence?" Then, as I saw himturn white, I made a ghastly effort, happily hid by the flowers I heldpressed against my face, and suggested, laughingly, "How, if sheshould come back after your departure! would she meet the greeting shedeserves?" He was half the room away from me, but I heard the click of subduedpassion in his throat, and turned sick almost to the point of fainting. "It is four days since you mentioned Mrs. Ransome's name, " he said. "When we are gone from here you must promise that it shall never againpass your lips. Mrs. Ransome is not a good woman, Delight. " It was a lie yet his manner of speaking it, and the look with which henow approached me, made me feel helpless again, and I made haste to rushfrom the room, ostensibly to prepare for our trip down town, in orderto escape my own weakness and gain a momentary self-possession before wefaced the outside world. Only eighteen years old and confronted by sucha diabolical problem! CHAPTER V. THE STOLEN KEY. I Was too young to reason in those days. Had I not been, had I been ableto say to myself that no act requiring such continued precautioncould take place in the heart of a great city without ultimate, if notinstant, detection, instinct would still have assured me that what Iread was true, however improbable or unheard of it might seem. Thatthe recognition of this fact imposed upon me two almost irreconcilableduties I was slower to perceive. But soon, too soon, it became apparenteven to my girlish mind, that, as the wife of the man who had committedthis great and inconceivable wrong, I was bound, not only to makean immediate attempt to release the women he so outrageously heldimprisoned in their own house, but to so release them that he shouldescape the opprobrium of his own act. That I might have time to think, and that I might be saved, if but forone day, contact with one it was almost my duty to hate, I came back tohim with the plea that I might spend the day with the Vandykes insteadof accompanying him down town as usual. I think he was glad of thefreedom my absence offered him, for he gave me the permission I asked, and in ten minutes I was in my old home. Mrs. Vandyke received me witheffusion. It was not the first time she had seen me since my marriage, but it was the first time she had seen me alone. "My dear!" she exclaimed, turning me about till my unwilling face metthe light, "is this the wild-wood lassie I gave into Mr. Allison'skeeping a week ago!" "It is the house!" I excitedly gasped, "the empty, lonely, echoinghouse! I am afraid in it, even with my husband. It gives me creepyfeelings, _as if a murder had been committed in it_. " She broke into a laugh; I hear the sound now, an honest, amused andentirely reassuring laugh, that relieved me in one way and depressed mein another. "The idea! _that_ house!" she cried. "I never thought youa girl to have nervous fancies. Why, it is the most matter-of-fact oldmansion in the city. All its traditions are of the most respectablekind; no skeleton in those closets! By the way, my dear, has Mr. Allisonshown you any of the curious old things those rooms must contain?" I managed to stammer out a reply, "Mr. Allison does not consider thathis rights extend so far. I have never crossed the drawing-room floor. " "Well! that is carrying honor to an extreme. I am afraid I should notbe able to suppress my curiosity to that extent. Is he afraid of the oldlady returning unexpectedly and catching him?" I could not echo her laugh; I could not even smile; I could only puckerup my brows as if angry. "Everything is kept in shape, so that if she does return she will findthe house comfortable, " I said; then, with a rising sense of having bythis speech suggested a falsehood, I hastily dropped the topic, and, with an entire change of manner, remarked, airily: "Mrs. Ransome must have gone off very suddenly, to leave everything soexposed in a house as splendid as that. Most people, however rich, seeto their choice things more carefully. " She rose to the bait. "Mrs. Ransome is a queer woman. Her things are ofbut little account to her; to save her daughter from a moment's painshe would part with the house itself, let alone the accumulations itcontains. That is why she left the country so suddenly. " I waited a moment under the pretense of admiring a locket she wore, thenI suggested, quietly: "My husband told you that?" The answer was as careless as the speaker. "Oh, I don't know who told me. It's five years ago now, but every oneat the time understood that she was angry, because some one mentionedblindness before her daughter. Mrs. Ransome had regarded it as areligious duty to raise her daughter in ignorance of her affliction. When she found she could not do so among her friends and acquaintances, she took her away to a strange land. It is the only tradition, which isnot commonplace, which belongs to the family. Let us go up and see mynew gowns. I have had two come home from Arnold's since you went away. " I thought the gowns would keep a minute longer. "Did Mrs. Ransome saygood-by to her friends?" I asked. "Somehow this matter strikes me asbeing very romantic. " "Oh, that shows what a puss you are. No, Mrs. Ransome did not saygood-by to her friends, that is, not to us. She just went, leavingeverything in your husband's charge, who certainly has acquitted himselfof the obligation most religiously. And now will you see the gowns?" I tortured myself by submitting to this ordeal, then I ventured onanother and entirely different attempt to clear up the mystery thatwas fast stifling out my youth, love and hope. I professed to have anextraordinary desire to see the city from the house-top. I had neverbeen any higher up than the third story of any house I had been in, andcould not, I told her, go any higher in the house in which I was thenliving. Might I go up on her roof? Her eyes opened, but she was of anamiable, inconsequent disposition and let me have my way without toomuch opposition. So, together with a maid she insisted upon sending withme, I made my way through the skylight on to the roof, and so into fullview of the neighboring house-tops. One glance at the spot I was most interested in, and I found myself toodizzy to look further. In the center of Mrs. Ransome's roof there was tobe seen what I can best describe as an extended cupola without windows. As there was no other break visible in the roof, the top of this musthave held the skylight, which, being thus lifted many feet above thelevel of the garret floor, would admit air and light enough to theboarded-up space below, but would make any effort to be heard or seen, on the part of any one secreted there, quite ineffectual. One might, bya great effort, fling up a bead out of this funnel-shaped opening, but, even to my limited sense of mechanics, the chances seemed veryunfavorable towards it doing much more than roll over the spacious roofinto the huge gutters surrounding it. Yet, if it chose to bound, it might clear the coping and fall, as onehad fallen, on the devoted head of a person walking on the lawn below. All this I saw at a glance, and then, sick and dizzy, I crept back, and, with but little apology for my abruptness, took leave of Mrs. Vandykeand left the house. The resolution I took in doing this was worthy of an older head and amore disciplined heart. By means that were fair, or by means that werefoul, I meant to win my way into that boarded-up attic and see formyself if the words hidden away in my vinaigrette were true. To dothis openly would cause a scandal I was yet too much under my husband'sinfluence to risk; while to do it secretly meant the obtaining of keyswhich I had every reason to believe he kept hidden about his person. How was I to obtain them? I saw no way, but that did not deter me fromstarting at once down town in the hope of being struck by some brilliantidea while waiting for him in his office. Was it instinct that suggested this, or was the hand of Providence inall that I did at this time? I had no sooner seated myself in the littleroom, where I had been accustomed to wait for him, than I saw what sentthe blood tingling to my finger-tips in sudden hope. It was my husband'svest hanging in one corner, the vest he had worn down town that morning. The day was warm and he had taken it off. _If the key should be in it!_ I had never done a mean or underhanded thing before in my life, but Isprang at that vest without the least hesitation, and fingering it withthe lightest of touches, found in the smallest of inside pockets akey, which instinct immediately told me was that of the door I had onceendeavored to pass. Oh, the rush of feeling overwhelming me as I heldit in my hand! Would he miss it if I carried it off? Would I be able toreturn to the house, see what I wanted to see, and get back in time torestore it before he wanted his vest? It was early yet, and he was verybusy; I might succeed, and if I failed, and he detected his loss, why Ialone would be the sufferer; and was I not a sufferer now? Dropping thekey into my pocket, I went back into the outer room, and leaving wordthat I had remembered a little shopping which would take me again uptown, I left the building and returned to ------ Street. My emotionswere indescribable, but I preserved as sedate an appearance as possible, and was able to account for my return in a natural enough way to Ambrosewhen he opened the door for me. To brave his possible curiosity by goingup-stairs, required a still greater effort; but the thought that myintentions were pure and my daring legitimate, sustained me in theordeal, and I ran, singing, up the first flight, glad that Ambrosehad no better ear for music than to be pleased with what he probablyconsidered an evidence of happiness on the part of his young mistress. I was out of breath with suspense, as well as with my rapid movements, when I reached the shut-in staircase and carefully unlocked its narrowdoor. But by the time I had reached the fourth floor, and unlocked, withthe same key, the only other door that had a streak of light under it, I had gained a certain degree of tense composure born of the desperatenature of the occasion. The calmness with which I pushed open the doorproved this--a calmness which made the movement noiseless, which was thereason, I suppose, why I was enabled to suppress the shriek that roseto my lips as I saw that the room had occupants, and that my worst fearswere thus realized. A woman was sitting, with her back to me, at a table, and before her, with her face turned my way, was a young girl in whom, even at firstglance, I detected some likeness to myself. Was this why Mr. Allison'scountenance expressed so much agitation when he first saw me? The nextmoment this latter lifted her head and looked directly at me, but withno change in her mobile features; at which token of blindness I almostfell on my knees, so conclusively did it prove that I was really lookingupon Mrs. Ransome and her daughter. The mother, who had been directing her daughter's hands in someneedlework, felt that the latter's attention had been diverted. "What is it, dear?" she asked, with an indescribable mellowness ofvoice, whose tone thrilled me with a fresh and passionate pity. "I thought I heard Mr. Allison come in, but he always knocks; besides, it is not time for him yet. " And she sighed. That sigh went through my heart, rousing new feelings and deeperterrors; but I had no time to indulge in them, for the mother turnedat the gasp which left my lips, and rising up, confronted me with anamazement which left her without any ability to speak. "Who is it, mother?" inquired the blind girl, herself rising and beamingupon me with the sweetest of looks. "Let me answer, " I ventured, softly. "I am Mr. Allison's wife. I havecome to see if there is anything I can do to make your stay here morecomfortable. " The look that passed over the mother's face warned me to venture nofurther in the daughter's presence. Whatever that mother hadsuffered, the daughter had experienced nothing but satisfied love andcompanionship in these narrow precincts. Her rounded cheeks showed this, and the indescribable atmosphere of peace and gladness whichsurrounded her. As I saw this, and realized the mother's life and theself-restraint which had enabled her to accept the inevitable withoutraising a complaint calculated to betray to the daughter that all wasnot as it should be with them, I felt such a rush of awe sweep over methat some of my fathomless emotion showed in my face; for Mrs. Ransome'sown countenance assumed a milder look, and advancing nearer, shepointed out a room where we could speak apart. As I moved towards it shewhispered a few words in her daughter's ear, then she rejoined me. "I did not know Mr. Allison was married, " were her first words. "Madame, " said I, "I did not know we were the guests of a lady whochooses to live in retirement. " And opening my vinaigrette, I took outthe bead and the little note which had enwrapped it. "This was my firstwarning that my husband was not what I had been led to consider him, "I murmured. "Mrs. Ransome, I am in need of almost as much pity asyourself. I have been married just six days. " She gave a cry, looked me wildly in the face, and then sank upon herknees, lifting up thanks to heaven. "Twenty-four of these notes, " saidshe; "have I written, and flung upward through that lofty skylight, weighted by the beads he left wound about my darling daughter's neck. This one only has brought me the least response. Does he know? Is hewilling that you should come up here?" "I have come at the risk of my life, " I quietly answered. "He doesnot know that I have surprised his secret. He would kill me if he did. Madame, I want to free you, but I want to do it without endangeringhim. I am his wife, and three hours ago I loved him. " Her face, which had turned very pale, approached mine with a lookI hardly expected to encounter there. "I understand, " she said; "Icomprehend devotion; I have felt it for my daughter. Else I could nothave survived the wrong of this incarceration, and my forcible severancefrom old associations and friends. I loved _her_, and since theknowledge of her affliction, and the still worse knowledge that she hadbeen made the victim of a man's greed to an extent not often surpassedin this world, would have made her young life wretched without securingthe least alleviation to our fate, I have kept both facts from her, andshe does not know that closed doors mean bondage any more than she knowsthat unrelieved darkness means blindness. She is absolutely ignorantthat there is such a thing as light. " "Oh, madame!" I murmured, "Oh, madame! Show a poor girl what she can doto restore you to your rights. The door is open and you can descend; butthat means----- Oh, madame, I am filled with terror when I think what. He may be in the hall now. He may have missed the key and returned. Ifonly you were out of the house!" "My dear girl, " she quietly replied, "we will be some day. You will seeto that, I know. I do not think I could stay here, now that I have seenanother face than his. But I do not want to go now, to-day. I want toprepare Theresa for freedom; she has lived so long quietly with me thatI dread the shock and excitement of other voices and the pressure ofcity sounds upon her delicate ears. I must train her for contact withthe world. But you won't forget me if I allow you to lock us in again?You will come back and open the doors, and let me go down again throughmy old halls into the room where my husband died; and if Mr. Allisonobjects---- My dear girl, you know now that he is an unscrupulous man, that it is my money he begrudged me, and that he has used it and madehimself a rich man. But he has one spark of grace in him. He has neverforgotten that we needed bread and clothes. He has waited on us himself, and never have we suffered from physical want. Therefore, he may notobject now. He may feel that he has enriched himself sufficiently tolet us go free, and if I must give my oath to let the past go withoutexplanation, why I am ready, my dear; nothing can undo it now, and I amgrown too old to want money except for her. " "I cannot, " I murmured, "Icannot find courage to present the subject to him so. I do not know myhusband's mind. It is a fathomless abyss to me. Let me think of someother way. Oh, madam! if you were out of the house, and could thencome----" Suddenly a thought struck me. "I can do it; I see the way todo it--a way that will place you in a triumphant position, and yet savehim from suspicion. He is weary of this care. He wants to be relieved ofthe dreadful secret which anchors him to this house, and makes a hell ofthe very spot in which he has fixed his love. Shall we undertake todo his for him? Can you trust me if I promise to take an immediateimpression of this key, and have one made for myself, which shall insuremy return here?" "My dear, " she said, taking my head between her two trembling hands, "Ihave never looked upon a sweeter face than my daughter's till I lookedupon yours to-day. If you bid me hope, I will hope, and if you bidme trust, I will trust. The remembrance of this kiss will not let youforget. " And she embraced me in a warm and tender manner. "I will write you, " I murmured. "Some day look for a billet under thedoor. It will tell you what to do; now I must go back to my husband. " And, with a sudden access of fear, caused by my dread of meeting hiseyes with this hidden knowledge between us, I hastened out and lockedthe door behind me. When I reached the office, I was in a fainting condition, but all myhopes revived again when I saw the vest still hanging where I had leftit, and heard my husband's voice singing cheerfully in the adjoiningroom. CHAPTER VI. WHILE OTHERS DANCED. I CANNOT enter into the feelings of this dreadful time. I do not knowif I loved or hated the man I had undertaken to save. I only know I wasdetermined to bring light out of darkness in a way that would compromisenobody, possibly not even myself. But to do this I must dazzle himinto giving me a great pleasure. A crowd in the ------ Street house wasnecessary to the quiet escape of Mrs. Ran-some and her daughter; so acrowd we must have, and how have a crowd without giving a grand party?I knew that this would be a shocking proposition to him, but I wasprepared to meet all objections; and when, with every nerve alert andevery charm exerted to its utmost, I sat down at his side that eveningto plead my cause, I knew by the sparkle of his eye and the softening ofthe bitter lines that sometimes hardened his mouth, that the battle washalf won before I spoke, and that I should have my party whatever itmight cost him in mental stress and worry. Perhaps he was glad to find me given over to folly at a time when he waswaiting for a miracle to release him from the net of crime in which hehad involved himself; perhaps he merely thought it would please me, and aid him to thus strengthen our position in the social world beforetaking our flight to a foreign land; but whatever lay at the bottom ofhis amenity, he gave me _carte blanche_ that night for an entertainmentthat should embrace all his friends and mine and some of Mrs. Vandyke's. So I saw that doubt removed. The next thing I did was to procure a _facsimile_ of his key from thewax impression I had taken of it in accordance with my promise to Mrs. Ransome. Then I wrote her a letter, in which I gave her the minutestdirections as to her own movements on that important evening. Afterwhich I gave myself up entirely to the business of the party. Certainthings I had insisted on. All the rooms were to be opened, even thoseon the third floor; and I was to have a band to play in the hall. He didnot deny me anything. I think his judgment was asleep, or else he was sotaken up with the horrible problem presented by his desire to leavethe city and the existence of those obligations which made departure animpossibility, that he failed to place due stress on matters which, atanother time, might very well seem to threaten the disclosure of hisdangerous secret. At last the night came. An entertainment given in this great house had aroused much interest. Most of our invitations had been accepted, and the affair promised tobe brilliant. As a bride, I wore white, and when, at the moment of goingdownstairs, my husband suddenly clasped about my neck a rich necklaceof diamonds, I was seized by such a bitter sense of the contrast betweenappearances and the awful reality underlying these festivities, that Ireeled in his arms, and had to employ all the arts which my dangerousposition had taught me, to quiet his alarm, and convince him that myemotion sprang entirely from pleasure. Meantime the band was playing and the carriages were rolling up infront. What he thought as the music filled the house and rose inpiercing melody to the very roof, I cannot say. _I_ thought how it wasa message of release to those weary and abused ones above; and, filledwith the sense of support which the presence of so many people inthe house gave me, I drew up my girlish figure in glad excitement andprepared myself for the ordeal, visible and invisible, which awaited me. The next two hours form a blank in my memory. Standing underMrs. Ransome's picture (I _would_ stand there), I received thecongratulations of the hundred or more people who were anxious to seeMr. Allison's bride, and of the whole glittering pageant I remember onlythe whispered words of Mrs. Vandyke as she passed with the rest: "Mydear, I take back what I said the other day about the effect of marriageupon you. You are the most brilliant woman here, and Mr. Allison thehappiest of men. " This was an indication that all was going well. Butwhat of the awful morning-hour that awaited us! Would that show him ahappy man? At last our guests were assembled, and I had an instant to myself. Murmuring a prayer for courage, I slid from the room and ran up-stairs. Here all was bustle also--a bustle I delighted in, for, with so manypeople moving about, Mrs. Ransome and her daughter could pass outwithout attracting more than a momentary attention. Securing a bundleI had myself prepared, I glided up the second staircase, and, after amoment's delay, succeeded in unlocking the door and disappearing with mybundle into the fourth story. When I came down, the key I had carried upwas left behind me. The way for Mrs. Ransome's escape lay open. I do not think I had been gone ten minutes from the drawing-room. WhenI returned there, it was to find the festivities at their height, andmy husband just on the point of missing me. The look which he directedto-wards me pierced me to the heart; not that I was playing him false, for I was risking life, love and the loss of everything I prized, tosave him from himself; but that his love for me should be so stronghe could forget the two tortured hearts above, in the admiration I hadawakened in the shallow people about us. But I smiled, as a woman onthe rack might smile if the safety of her loved ones depended on hercourage, and, nerving myself for the suspense of such a waiting as fewof my inexperience have ever been called upon to endure, I turned to agroup of ladies I saw near me and began to talk. Happily, I did not have to chatter long; happily, Mrs. Ransome was quickin her movements and exact in all she did, and, sooner than I expected, sooner, perhaps, than I was prepared for it, the man who attended thefront door came to my side and informed me that a lady wished to seeme--a lady who had just arrived from the steamer, and who said she wasthe mistress of the house, Mrs. Ransome. Mrs. Ransome! The name spread like wildfire, but before any movement wasmade, I had bounded, in laughing confusion, to my husband's side, and, grasping him merrily by the arm, cried: "Your expectations have come true. Mrs. Ransome has returned withoutwarning, and tonight she will partake of the supper you have always hadserved for her. " The shock was as great, perhaps, as ever man received. I knew what itwas likely to be, and held him upright, with the seeming merriment in myeyes which I did not allow to stray from his. He thought I was mad, thenhe thought he was--then I recalled him to the dangers and exigencies ofthe moment by saying, with forced _naïveté_: "Shall I go and welcome herto this gathering in her own house, or will you do the honors? She maynot know _me_. " He moved, but as a statue might move, shot through and through with anelectric spark. I saw that I must act, rather than he, so uttering somegirlish sentence about the mice and cat, I glided away into the hall, where Mrs. Ran-some stood in the nondescript black cloak and bonnet Ihad provided her from her own wardrobe. She had slipped a few momentsbefore from the house with her daughter, whom she had placed in acarriage, which I had ordered to wait for them directly in front of thelamppost, and had now re-entered as the mistress returning unexpectedlyafter a departure of five years. All had been done as I had planned, andit only remained to carry on the farce and prevent its developing into atragedy. Rushing up to her, I told her who I was, and, as we were literallysurrounded in a moment, added such apologies for the merrymaking inwhich she found us indulging as my wit suggested and the occasion seemedto demand. Then I allowed her to speak. Instantly she was the mistressof the house. Old-fashioned as her dress was, and changed as her figuremust have been, she had that imposing bearing which great misfortune, nobly borne, gives to some natures, and feeling the eyes of many ofher old friends upon her, she graciously smiled and said that she wasdelighted to receive so public a welcome. Then she took me by the hand. "Do not worry, child, " she said, "I have a daughter about your age, which in itself would make me lenient towards one so young and pretty. Where is your husband, dear? He has served me well in my absence, and Ishould like to shake hands with him before I withdraw with my daughter, to a hotel for the night. " I looked up; he was standing in the open doorway leading into thedrawing-room. He had recovered a semblance of composure, but the handfingering the inner pocket, where he kept his keys, showed in what atumult of surprise and doubt he had been thrown by this unaccountableappearance of his prisoner in the open hall; and if to other eyes heshowed no more than the natural confusion of the moment, to me he hadthe look of a secretly desperate man, alive to his danger, and onlyholding himself in check in order to measure it. At the mention she made of his name, he came mechanically forward, and, taking her proffered hand, bowed over it. "Welcome. " he murmured, instrained tones; then, startled by the pressure of her fingers on his, heglanced doubtfully up while she said: "We will have no talk to-night, my faithful and careful friend, butto-morrow you may come and see me at the Fifth Avenue. You will findthat my return will not lessen your manifest happiness. " Then, ashe began to tremble, she laid her hand on his arm, and I heard hersmilingly whisper: "You have too pretty a wife for me not to wish myreturn to be a benefaction to her. " And, with a smile to the crowd andan admonition to those about her not to let the little bride suffer fromthis interruption, she disappeared through the great front door onthe arm of the man who for five years had held her prisoner in her ownhouse. I went back into the drawing-room, and the five minutes whichelapsed between that moment and that of his return were the most awfulof my life. When he came back I had aged ten years, yet all that time Iwas laughing and talking. He did not rejoin me immediately; he went up-stairs. I knew why; he hadgone to see if the door to the fourth floor had been unlocked or simplybroken down. When he came back he gave me one look. Did he suspect me? Icould not tell. After that, there was another blank in my memory to thehour when the guests were all gone, the house all silent, and we stoodtogether in a little room, where I had at last discovered him, withdrawnby himself, writing. There was a loaded pistol on the table. The paperhe had been writing was his will. "Humphrey, " said I, placing a finger on the pistol, "why is this?" He gave me a look, a hungry, passionate look, then he grew as white asthe paper he had just subscribed with his name. "I am ruined, " he murmured. "I have made unwarrantable use of Mrs. Ransome's money; her return has undone me. Delight, I love you, but Icannot face the future. You will be provided for----" "Will I?" I put in softly, very softly, for my way was strewn withpitfalls and precipices. "I do not think so, Humphrey. If the money youhave put away is not yours, my first care would be to restore it. Thenwhat would I have left? A dowry of odium and despair, and I am scarcelyeighteen. " "But--but--you do not understand, Delight. I have been a villain, aworse villain than you think. The only thing in my life I have not toblush for is my love for you. This is pure, even if it has been selfish. I know it is pure, because I have begun to suffer. If I could tellyou---- "Mrs. Ransome has already told me, " said I. "Who do you think unlockedthe door of her retreat? I, Humphrey. I wanted to save you fromyourself, and _she_ understands me. She will never reveal the secret ofthe years she has passed overhead. " Would he hate me? Would he love me? Would he turn that fatal weapon onme, or level it again towards his own breast? For a moment I could nottell; then the white horror in his face broke up, and, giving me a lookI shall never forget till I die, he fell prostrate on his knees andlowered his proud head before me. I did not touch it, but from that moment the schooling of our two heartsbegan, and, though I can never look upon my husband with the frank joyI see in other women's faces, I have learned not to look upon him withdistrust, and to thank God I did not forsake him when desertion mighthave meant the destruction of the one small seed of goodness which haddeveloped in his heart with the advent of a love for which nothing inhis whole previous life had prepared him.