THE OLD STONE HOUSE AND OTHER STORIES by ANNA KATHARINE GREEN Short Story Index Reprint Series Books for Libraries PressFreeport, New YorkFirst Published 1891 CONTENTS. THE OLD STONE HOUSE A MEMORABLE NIGHT THE BLACK CROSS A MYSTERIOUS CASE SHALL HE WED HER? THE OLD STONE HOUSE. I was riding along one autumn day through a certain wooded portion ofNew York State, when I came suddenly upon an old stone house in whichthe marks of age were in such startling contrast to its unfinishedcondition that I involuntarily stopped my horse and took a long surveyof the lonesome structure. Embowered in a forest which had so grown inthickness and height since the erection of this building that theboughs of some of the tallest trees almost met across its decayedroof, it presented even at first view an appearance of picturesquesolitude almost approaching to desolation. But when my eye had time tonote that the moss was clinging to eaves from under which thescaffolding had never been taken, and that of the ten large windows inthe blackened front of the house only two had ever been furnishedwith frames, the awe of some tragic mystery began to creep over me, and I sat and wondered at the sight till my increasing interestcompelled me to alight and take a nearer view of the place. The great front door which had been finished so many years ago, butwhich had never been hung, leaned against the side of the house, ofwhich it had almost become a part, so long had they clung togetheramid the drippings of innumerable rains. Close beside it yawned theentrance, a large black gap through which nearly a century of stormshad rushed with their winds and wet till the lintels were green withmoisture and slippery with rot. Standing on this untrod threshold, Iinstinctively glanced up at the scaffolding above me, and started as Inoticed that it had partially fallen away, as if time were weakeningits supports and making the precipitation of the whole a threateningpossibility. Alarmed lest it might fall while I stood there, I did notlinger long beneath it, but, with a shudder which I afterwardsremembered, stepped into the house and proceeded to inspect itsrotting, naked, and unfinished walls. I found them all in the onecondition. A fine house had once been planned and nearly completed, but it had been abandoned before the hearths had been tiled, or thewainscoting nailed to its place. The staircase which ran up throughthe centre of the house was without banisters but otherwise finishedand in a state of fair preservation. Seeing this and not being able toresist the temptation which it offered me of inspecting the rest ofthe house, I ascended to the second story. Here the doors were hung and the fireplaces bricked, and as I wanderedfrom room to room I wondered more than ever what had caused thedesertion of so promising a dwelling. If, as appeared, the first ownerhad died suddenly, why could not an heir have been found, and whatcould be the story of a place so abandoned and left to destructionthat its walls gave no token of ever having offered shelter to a humanbeing? As I could not answer this question I allowed my imaginationfull play, and was just forming some weird explanation of the factsbefore me when I felt my arm suddenly seized from behind, and pausedaghast. Was I then not alone in the deserted building? Was there somesolitary being who laid claim to its desolation and betrayed jealousyat any intrusion within its mysterious precincts? Or was the dismalplace haunted by some uneasy spirit, who with long, uncanny fingersstood ready to clutch the man who presumed to bring living hopes andfears into a spot dedicated entirely to memories? I had scarcely thecourage to ask, but when I turned and saw what it was that had alarmedme, I did not know whether to laugh at my fears or feel increased aweof my surroundings. For it was the twigs of a tree which had seizedme, and for a long limb such as this to have grown into a placeintended for the abode of man, necessitated a lapse of time and adepth of solitude oppressive to think of. Anxious to be rid of suggestions wellnigh bordering upon thesuperstitious, I took one peep from the front windows, and thendescended to the first floor. The sight of my horse quietly dozing inthe summer sunlight had reassured me, and by the time I had recrossedthe dismal threshold, and regained the cheerful highway, I wasconscious of no emotions deeper than the intense interest of a curiousmind to solve the mystery and understand the secret of this remarkablehouse. Rousing my horse from his comfortable nap, I rode on through theforest; but scarcely had I gone a dozen rods before the road took aturn, the trees suddenly parted, and I found myself face to face withwide rolling meadows and a busy village. So, then, this ancient anddeserted house was not in the heart of the woods, as I had imagined, but in the outskirts of a town, and face to face with life andactivity. This discovery was a shock to my romance, but as it gave mycuriosity an immediate hope of satisfaction, I soon became reconciledto the situation, and taking the road which led to the village, drewup before the inn and went in, ostensibly for refreshment. This beingspeedily provided, I sat down in the cosy dining-room, and as soon asopportunity offered, asked the attentive landlady why the old house inthe woods had remained so long deserted. She gave me an odd look, and then glanced aside at an old man who satdoubled up in the opposite corner. "It is a long story, " said she, "and I am busy now; but later, if you wish to hear it, I will tell youall we know on the subject. After father is gone out, " she whispered. "It always excites him to hear any talk about that old place. " I saw that it did. I had no sooner mentioned the house than his whitehead lifted itself with something like spirit, and his form, which hadseemed a moment before so bent and aged, straightened with an interestthat made him look almost hale again. "I will tell you, " he broke in; "I am not busy. I was ninety lastbirthday, and I forget sometimes my grandchildren's names, but I neverforget what took place in that old house one night fifty yearsago--never, never. " "I know, I know, " hastily interposed his daughter, "you rememberbeautifully; but this gentleman wishes to eat his dinner now, and mustnot have his appetite interfered with. You will wait, will you not, sir, till I have a little more leisure?" What could I answer but Yes, and what could the poor old man do butshrink back into his corner, disappointed and abashed. Yet I was notsatisfied, nor was he, as I could see by the appealing glances he gaveme now and then from under the fallen masses of his long white hair. But the landlady was complaisant and moved about the table and in andout of the room with a bustling air that left us but littleopportunity for conversation. At length she was absent somewhat longerthan usual, whereupon the old man, suddenly lifting his head, criedout: "_She_ cannot tell the story. She has no feeling for it; she wasn't_there_. " "And you were, " I ventured. "Yes, yes, I was there, always there; and I see it all now, " hemurmured. "Fifty years ago, and I see it all as if it were happeningat this moment before my eyes. But she will not let me talk about it, "he complained, as the sound of her footsteps was heard again on thekitchen boards. "Though it makes me young again, she always stops mejust as if I were a child. But she cannot help my showing you--" Here her steps became audible in the hall, and his words died away onhis lips. By the time she had entered, he was seated with his headhalf turned aside, and his form bent over as if he were in spirit athousand miles from the spot. Amused at his cunning, and interested in spite of myself at thechildish eagerness he displayed to tell his tale, I waited with asecret impatience almost as great as his own perhaps, for her to leavethe room again, and thus give him the opportunity of finishing hissentence. At last there came an imperative call for her presencewithout, and she hurried away. She was no sooner gone than the old manexclaimed: "I have it all written down. I wrote it years and years ago, at thevery time it happened. She cannot keep me from showing you that; no, no, she cannot keep me from showing you that. " And rising to his feetwith a difficulty that for the first time revealed to me the fullextent of his infirmity, he hobbled slowly across the floor to theopen door, through which he passed with many cunning winks and nods. "It grows quite exciting, " thought I, and half feared his daughterwould not allow him to return. But either she was too much engrossedto heed him, or had been too much deceived by his seeming indifferencewhen she last entered the room, to suspect the errand which had takenhim out of it. For sooner than I had expected, and quite some fewminutes before she came back herself, he shuffled in again, carryingunder his coat a roll of yellow paper, which he thrust into my handwith a gratified leer, saying: "There it is. I was a gay young lad in those days, and could go andcome with the best. Read it, sir, read it; and if Maria says anythingagainst it, tell her it was written long before she was born and whenI was as pert as she is now, and a good deal more observing. " Chuckling with satisfaction, he turned away, and had barelydisappeared in the hall when she came in and saw me with the roll inmy hand. "Well! I declare!" she exclaimed; "and has he been bringing you that?What ever shall I do with him and his everlasting manuscript? You willpardon him, sir; he is ninety and upwards, and thinks everybody is asinterested in the story of that old house as he is himself. " "And I, for one, am, " was my hasty reply. "If the writing is at alllegible, I am anxious to read it. You won't object, will you?" "Oh, no, " was her good-humored rejoinder. "I won't object; I only hateto have father's mind roused on this subject, because he is sure to besick after it. But now that you have the story, read it; whether youwill think as he did, on a certain point, is another question. Idon't; but then father always said I would never believe ill ofanybody. " Her smile certainly bore out her words, it was so good-tempered andconfiding; and pleased with her manner in spite of myself, I acceptedher invitation to make use of her own little parlor, and sat down inthe glow of a brilliant autumn afternoon to read this old-timehistory. * * * * * Will Juliet be at home to-day? She must know that I am coming. When Imet her this morning, tripping back from the farm, I gave her a lookwhich, if she cares anything about me, must have told her that I wouldbe among the lads who would be sure to pay her their respects at earlycandle-light. For I cannot resist her saucy pout and dancing dimplesany longer. Though I am barely twenty, I am a man, and one who isquite forehanded and able to take unto himself a wife. RalphUrphistone has both wife and babe, and he was only twenty-one lastAugust. Why, then, should I not go courting, when the prettiest maidthat has graced the town for many a year holds out the guerdon of hersmiles to all who will vie for them? To be sure, the fact that she has more than one wooer already may beconsidered detrimental to my success. But love is fed by rivalry, andif Colonel Schuyler does not pay her his addresses, I think my chancesmay be considered as good as any one's. For am I not the tallest andmost straightly built man in town, and have I not a little cottage allmy own, with the neatest of gardens behind it, and an apple-tree infront whose blossoms hang ready to shower themselves like rain uponthe head of her who will enter there as a bride? It is not yet dark, but I will forestall the sunset by a half hour and begin my visit now. If I am first at her gate, Lemuel Phillips may look less arrogantwhen he comes to ask her company to the next singing school. * * * * * I was not first at her gate; two others were there before me. Ah, sheis prettier than ever I supposed, and chirper than the sparrow whichbuilds every year a nest in my old apple-tree. When she saw me come upthe walk, her cheeks turned pink, but I do not know if it was frompleasure or annoyance, for she gave nothing but vexing replies toevery compliment I paid her. But then Lemuel Phillips fared no better;and she was so bitter-sweet to Orrin Day that he left in a huff andvowed he would never step across her threshold again. I thought shewas a trifle more serious after he had gone, but when a woman's eyesare as bright as hers, and the frowns and smiles with which shedisports herself chase each other so rapidly over a face bothmischievous and charming, a man's judgment goes astray, and hescarcely knows reality from seeming. But true or false, she is prettyas a harebell and bright as glinting sunshine; and I mean to marryher, if only Colonel Schuyler will hold himself aloof. Colonel Schuyler may hold himself aloof, but he is a man like the restof us for all that. Yesterday as I was sauntering in the churchyardwaiting for the appearance of a certain white-robed figure crowned bythe demurest of little hats, I caught a glimpse of his face as heleaned on one of the tombstones near Patience Goodyear's grave, and Isaw that he was waiting also for the same white figure and the samedemure hat. This gave me a shock; for though I had never really daredto hope he would remain unmoved by a loveliness so rare in ourvillage, and indeed, as I take it, in any village, I did not think hewould show so much impatience, or await her appearance with suchburning and uncontrollable ardor. Indeed I was so affected by his look that I forgot to watch any longerfor her coming, but kept my gaze fixed on his countenance, till I sawby the change which rapidly took place in it that she had stepped outof the great church door and was now standing before us, making thesunshine more brilliant by her smiles, and the spring the sweeter forher presence. Then I came to myself and rushed forward with the rest of the lads. Did he follow behind us? I do not think so, for the rosy lips whichhad smiled upon us with so airy a welcome soon showed a discontentedcurve not to be belied by the merry words that issued from them, andwhen we would have escorted her across the fields to her father'shouse, she made a mocking curtsy, and wandered away with the ugliestold crone who mouths and mumbles in the meeting-house. Did she do thisto mock us or him? If to mock him he had best take care, for beautyscorned is apt to grow dangerous. But perhaps it was to mock us? Well, well, there would be nothing new in that; she is ever mocking us. * * * * * They say the Colonel passes her gate a dozen times a day, but nevergoes in and never looks up. Is he indifferent then? I cannot think so. Perhaps he fears her caprices and disapproves of her coquetry. If thatis so, she shall be my wife before he wakens to the knowledge that hercoquetry hides a passionate and loving heart. Colonel Schuyler is a dark man. He has eyes which pierce you, and asmile which, if it could be understood, might perhaps be lessfascinating than it is. If she has noticed his watching her, thelittle heart that flutters in her breast must have beaten faster bymany a throb. For he is the one great man within twenty miles, and sohandsome and above us all that I do not know of a woman but Julietwhose voice does not sink a tone lower whenever she speaks of him. Buthe is a proud man, and seems to take no notice of any one. Indeed hescarcely appears to live in our world. Will he come down from his highestate at the beck of this village beauty? Many say not, but I sayyes; with those eyes of his he cannot help it. * * * * * Juliet is more capricious than ever. Lemuel Phillips for one is tiredof it, and imitating Orrin Day, bade her a good-even to-night which Iam sure he does not intend to follow with a blithe good-morrow. I might do the same if her pleading eyes would let me. But she seemsto cling to me even when she is most provokingly saucy; and though Icannot see any love in her manner, there is something in it verydifferent from hate; and this it is which holds me. Can a woman be toopretty for her own happiness, and are many lovers a weariness to theheart? * * * * * Juliet is positively unhappy. To-day when she laughed the gayest itwas to hide her tears, and no one, not even a thoroughly spoiledbeauty, could be as wayward as she if there were not some bitter arrowrankling in her heart. She was riding down the street on a pillionbehind her father, and Colonel Schuyler, who had been leaning on thegate in front of his house, turned his back upon her and went insidewhen he saw her coming. Was this what made her so white and recklesswhen she came up to where I was standing with Orrin Day, and was ither chagrin at the great man's apparent indifference which gave thatsharp edge to the good-morning with which she rode haughtily away? Ifit was I can forgive you, my lady-bird, for there is reason for yourfolly if I am any judge of my fellow-men. Colonel Schuyler is notindifferent but circumspect, and circumspection in a lover is aninsult to his lady's charms. * * * * * She knows now what I knew a week ago. Colonel Schuyler is in love withher and will marry her if she does not play the coquette with him. Hehas been to her house and her father already holds his head higher ashe paces up and down the street. I am left in the lurch, and if I hadnot foreseen this end to my hopes, might have been a very miserableman to-night. For I was near obtaining the object of my heart, as Iknow from her own lips, though the words were not intended for myears. You see I was the one who surprised him talking with her in thegarden. I had been walking around the place on the outer side of thewall as I often did from pure love for her, and not knowing she was onthe other side was very much startled when I heard her voice speakingmy name; so much startled that I stood still in my astonishment andthus heard her say: "Philo Adams has a little cottage all his own and I can be mistress ofit any day, --or so he tells me. I had rather go into that littlecottage where every board I trod on would be my own, than live in thegrandest room you could give me in a house of which I would not be themistress. " "But if I make a home for you, " he pleaded, "grand as my father's, butbuilt entirely for you--" "Ah!" was her soft reply, "that might make me listen to you, for Ishould then think you loved me. " The wall was between us, but I could see her face as she said this asplainly as if I had been the fortunate man at her side. And I couldsee his face too, though it was only in fancy I had ever beheld itsoften as I knew it must be softening now. Silence such as followedher words is eloquent, and I feared my own passions too much to lingertill it should be again broken by vows I had not the courage to hear. So I crept away conscious of but one thing, which was that my dreamwas ended, and that my brave apple-tree would never shower its bridalblossoms upon the head I love, for whatever threshold she crosses asmistress it will not now be that of the little cottage every board ofwhich might have been her own. * * * * * If I had doubted the result of the Colonel's offer to Juliet, the newswhich came to me this morning would have convinced me that all waswell with them and that their marriage was simply a matter of time. Ground has been broken in the pleasant opening on the verge of theforest, and carts and men hired to bring stone for the fine newdwelling Colonel Schuyler proposes to rear for himself. The whole townis agog, but I keep the secret I surprised, and only Juliet knows thatI am no longer deceived as to her feelings, for I did not go to seeher to-night for the first time since I made up mind that I would haveher for my wife. I am glad I restrained myself, for Orrin Day, who hadkept his word valiantly up to this very day, came riding by my housefuriously a half hour ago, and seeing me, called out: "Why didn't you tell me she had a new adorer? I went there to-nightand Colonel Schuyler sat at her side as you and I never sat yet, and--and--" he stammered frantically, "_I did not kill him. _" "You--Come back!" I shouted, for he was flying by like the wind. Buthe did not heed me nor stop, but vanished in the thick darkness, whilethe lessening sound of his horse's hoofs rang dismally back from thegrowing distance. So this man has loved her passionately too, and the house which isdestined to rise in the woods will throw a shadow over more than onehearthstone in this quiet village. I declare I am sorry that Orrin hastaken it so much to heart, for he has a proud and determined spirit, and will not forget his wrongs as soon as it would be wise for him todo. Poor, poor Juliet, are you making enemies against your bridal day?If so, it behooves me at least to remain your friend. * * * * * I saw Orrin again to-day, and he looks like one haunted. He was ridingas usual, and his cloak flew out behind him as he sped down the streetand away into the woods. I wonder if she too saw him, from behind herlattice. I thought I detected the curtain move as he thundered by hergate, but I am so filled with thoughts of her just now that I cannotalways trust my judgment. I am, however, sure of one thing, and thatis that if Colonel Schuyler and Orrin meet, there will be trouble. * * * * * I never thought Orrin handsome till to-day. He is fair, and I likedark men; and he is small, and I admire men of stature. But when Icame upon him this morning, talking and laughing among a group of ladslike ourselves, I could not but see that his blue eye shone with afire that made it as brilliant as any dark one could be, and that inhis manner, verging as it did upon the reckless, there was a spiritand force which made him look both dangerous and fascinating. He washaranguing them on a question of the day, but when he saw me hestepped out of the crowd, and, beckoning me to follow him, led the wayto a retired spot, where, the instant we were free from watching eyes, he turned and said: "You liked her too, Philo Adams. I should havebeen willing if you--" Here he choked and paused. I had never seen aface so full of fiery emotions. "No, no, no, " he went on, after amoment of silent struggle; "I could not have borne it to see any mantake away what was so precious to me. I--I--I did not know I cared forher so much, " he now explained, observing my look of surprise. "Sheteased me and put me off, and coquetted with you and Lemuel andwhoever else happened to be at her side till I grew beside myself andleft her, as I thought, forever. But there are women you can leave andwomen you cannot, and when I found she teased and fretted me more at adistance than when she was under my very eye, I went back only tofind--Philo, do you think he will marry her?" I choked down my own emotions and solemnly answered: "Yes, he isbuilding her a home. You must have seen the stones that are beingpiled up yonder on the verge of the forest. " He turned, glared at me, made a peculiar sound with his lips, and thenstood silent, opening and closing his hands in a way that made myblood run chill in spite of myself. "A house!" he murmured, at last; "I wish I had the building of thathouse!" The tone, the look he gave, alarmed me still further. "You would build it well!" I cried. It was his trade, the building ofhouses. "I would build it slowly, " was his ominous answer. * * * * * Juliet certainly likes me, and trusts me, I think, more than any otherof the young men who used to go a-courting her. I have seen it forsome time in the looks she has now and then given me across themeeting-house during the long sermon on Sunday mornings, but to-day Iam sure of it. For she has spoken to me, and asked me--But let metell you how it was: We were all standing under Ralph Urphistone's bigtree, looking at his little one toddling over the grass after a ballone of the lads had thrown after her, when I felt the slightest touchon my arm, and, glancing round, saw Juliet. She was standing beside her father, and if ever she looked pretty itwas just then, for the day was warm and she had taken off her greathat so that the curls flew freely around her face that was dimpled andflushed with some feeling which did not allow her to lift her eyes. Had she touched me? I thought so, and yet I did not dare to take itfor granted, for Colonel Schuyler was standing on the edge of thecrowd, frowning in some displeasure at the bare head of his provokinglittle betrothed, and when Colonel Schuyler frowns there is no man ofus but Orrin who would dare approach the object of his preference, much less address her, except in the coldest courtesy. But I was sure she had something to say to me, so I lingered under thetree till the crowd had all dispersed and Colonel Schuyler, drawn awayby her father, had left us for a moment face to face. Then I saw I wasright. "Philo, " she murmured, and oh, how her face changed! "you are myfriend, I know you are my friend, because you alone out of them allhave never given me sharp words; will you, will you do something forme which will make me less miserable, something which may preventwrong and trouble, and keep Orrin--" Orrin? did she call him Orrin? "Oh, " she cried, "you have no sympathy. You--" "Hush!" I entreated. "You have not treated me well, but I am alwaysyour friend. What do you want me to do?" She trembled, glanced around her in the pleasant sunshine, and then upinto my face. "I want you, " she murmured, "to keep Orrin and Colonel Schuyler apart. You are Orrin's friend; stay with him, keep by him, do not let him runalone upon his enemy, for--for there is danger in theirmeeting--and--and--" She could not say more, for just then her father and the Colonel cameback, and she had barely time to call up her dimples and toss her headin merry banter before they were at her side. As for myself, I stood dazed and confused, feeling that my six feetmade me too conspicuous, and longing in a vague and futile way to lether know without words that I would do what she asked. And I think I did accomplish it, though I said nothing to her and butlittle to her companions. For when we parted I took the street whichleads directly to Orrin's house; and when Colonel Schuyler queried inhis soft and gentlemanlike way why I left them so soon, I managed toreply: "My road lies here"; and so left them. * * * * * I have not told Orrin what she said, but I am rarely away from hisvicinity now, during those hours when he is free to come and go aboutthe village. I think he wonders at my persistent friendship, sometimes, but he says nothing, and is not even disagreeable to--_me_. So I share his pleasures, if they are pleasures, expecting every dayto see him run across the Colonel in the tavern or on the green; buthe never does, perhaps because the Colonel is always with her now, andwe are not nor are ever likely to be again. Do I understand her, or do I understand Orrin, or do I even understandmyself? No, but I understand my duty, and that is enough, though it issometimes hard to do it, and I would rather be where I could forget, instead of being where I am forced continually to remember. * * * * * Am I always with Orrin when he is not at work or asleep? I begin todoubt it. There are times when there is such a change in him that Ifeel sure he has been near her, or at least seen her, but where orhow, I do not know and cannot even suspect. He never speaks of her, not now, but he watches the house slowly rising in the forest, as ifhe would lay a spell upon it. Not that he visits it by daylight, ormingles with the men who are busy laying stone upon stone; no, no, hegoes to it at night, goes when the moon and stars alone shed lightupon its growing proportions; and standing before it, seems to counteach stone which has been added through the day, as if he werereckoning up the months yet remaining to him of life and happiness. I never speak to him during these expeditions. I go with him becausehe does not forbid me to do so, but we never exchange a word till wehave left the forest behind us and stand again within the villagestreets. If I did speak I might learn something of what is going on inhis bitter and burning heart, but I never have the courage to do so, perhaps because I had rather not know what he plans or purposes. She is not as daintily rounded as she was once. Her cheek is thinner, and there is a tremulous move to her lip I never saw in it in the oldcoquettish days. Is she not happy in her betrothal, or are her fearsof Orrin greater than her confidence in me? It must be the latter, forColonel Schuyler is a lover in a thousand, and scarcely a day passeswithout some new evidence of his passionate devotion. She ought to behappy, if she is not, and I am sure there is not another woman in townbut would feel herself the most favored of her sex if she had the halfof Juliet's prospects before her. But Juliet was ever wayward; andsimply because she ought to increase in beauty and joy, she pales andpines and gets delicate, and makes the hearts of her lovers grow madwith fear and longing. * * * * * Where have I been? What have I seen, and what do the events of thisnight portend? As Orrin and myself were returning from our usual visitto the house in the woods--it is well up now, and its huge emptysquare looms weirdly enough in the moonlighted forest, --we came outupon the churchyard in front of the meeting-house, and Orrin said: "You may come with me or not, I do not care; but I am going in amongstthese graves. I feel like holding companionship with dead peopleto-night. " "Then so do I, " said I, for I was not deceived by his words. It wasnot to hold companionship with the dead, but with the living, that hechose to linger there. The churchyard is in a direct line with herhouse, and, sitting on the meeting-house steps one can get a very goodview of the windows of her room. "Very well, " he sighed, and disdained to say more. As for myself, I felt too keenly the weirdness of the whole situationto do more than lean my back against a tree and wait till his fancywearied of the moonlight and silence. The stones about us, gloomingdarkly through the night, were not the most cheerful of companions, and when you add to this the soughing of the willows and theflickering shadows which rose and fell over the face of themeeting-house as the branches moved in the wind, you can understandwhy I rather regretted the hitherto gloomy enough hour we wereaccustomed to spend in the forest. But Orrin seemed to regret nothing. He had seated himself where I knewhe would, on the steps of the meeting-house, and was gazing, with chinsunk in his two hands, down the street where Juliet dwelt. I do notthink he expected anything to happen; I think he was only reckless andsick with a longing he had not the power to repress, and I watched himas long as I could for my own inner sickness and longing, and when Icould watch no longer I turned to the gnomish gravestones that were nomore motionless or silent than he. Suddenly I felt myself shiver and start, and, turning, beheld himstanding erect, a black shadow against the moonlighted wall behindhim. He was still gazing down the street but no longer in apatheticdespair, but with quivering emotion visible in every line of histrembling form. Reaching his side, I looked where he looked, and sawJuliet--it must have been Juliet to arouse him so, --standing with somecompanion at the gate in the wall that opens upon the street. Thenext moment she and the person with her stepped into the street, and, almost before we realized it, they began to move towards us, as ifdrawn by some power in Orrin or myself, straight, straight to thisabode of death and cold moonbeams. It was not late, but the streets were otherwise deserted, and we fourseemed to be alone in the whole world. Breathing with Orrin and almostclasping his hand in my oneness with him, I watched and watched thegliding approach of the two lovers, and knew not whether to bestartled or satisfied when I saw them cross to the churchyard andenter where we had entered ourselves so short a time before. For usall to meet, and meet here, seemed suddenly strangely natural, and Ihardly knew what Orrin meant when he grasped me forcibly by the armand drew me aside into the darkest of the dark shadows which lay inthe churchyard's farthest corner. Not till I perceived Juliet and the Colonel halt in the moonlight didI realize that we were nothing to them, and that it was not ourinfluence but some purpose or passion of their own which had led themto this gruesome spot. The place where they had chosen to pause was at the grave of oldPatience Goodyear, and from the corner where we stood we could seetheir faces plainly as they turned and looked at each other with themoonbeams pouring over them. Was it fancy that made her look like awraith, and he like some handsome demon given to haunting churchyards?Or was it only the sternness of his air, and the shrinking timidity ofhers, which made him look so dark and she so pallid. Orrin, who stood so close to me that I could hear his heart beat asloudly as my own, had evidently asked himself the same question, forhis hand closed spasmodically on mine, as the Colonel opened his lips, and neither of us dared so much as to breathe lest we should lose whatthe lovers had to say. But the Colonel spoke clearly, if low, and neither of us could fail tohear him as he said: "I have brought you here, Juliet mine, because I want to hear youswear amongst the graves that you will be no man's wife but mine. " "But have I not already promised?" she protested, with a gentle upliftof her head inexpressibly touching in one who had once queened it overhearts so merrily. "Yes, you have promised, but I am not satisfied. I want you to swear. I want to feel that you are as much mine as if we had stood at thealtar together. Otherwise how can I go away? How can I leave you, knowing there are three men at least in this town who would marry youat a day's notice, if you gave them full leave. I love you, and Iwould marry you to-night, but you want a home of your own. Swear thatyou will be my wife when that home is ready, and I will go away happy. Otherwise I shall have to stay with you, Juliet, for you are more tome than renown, or advancement, or anything else in all God's world. " "I do not like the graves; I do not want to stay here, it is so late, so dark, " she moaned. "Then swear! Lay your hand on Mother Patience's tombstone, and say, 'Iwill be your wife, Richard Schuyler, when the house is finished whichyou are building in the woods'; and I will carry you back in my armsas I carry you always in my heart. " But though Orrin clinched my arm in apprehension of her answer, and westood like two listening statues, no words issued from her lips, andthe silence grew appalling. "Swear!" seemed to come from the tombs; but whether it was my emotionthat made it seem so, or whether it was Orrin who threw his voicethere, I did not know then and I do not know now. But that the worddid not come from the Colonel was evident from the startled look hecast about him and from the thrill which all at once passed over herform from her shrouded head to her hidden feet. "Do the heavens bid me?" she murmured, and laid her hand withouthesitation on the stone before her, saying, "I swear by the dead thatsurround us to be your wife, Richard Schuyler, when the house you arebuilding for me in the woods is completed. " And so pleased was he atthe readiness with which she spoke that he seemed to forget what hadcaused it, and caught her in his arms as if she had been a child, andso bore her away from before our eyes, while the man at my sidefought and struggled with himself to keep down the wrath and jealousywhich such a sight as this might well provoke in one even lesspassionate and intemperate than himself. When the one shadow which they now made had dissolved again into two, and only Orrin and myself were left in that ghostly churchyard, Ideclared with a courage I had never before shown: "So that is settled, Orrin. She will marry the Colonel, and you and Iare wasting time in these gloomy walks. " To which, to my astonishment, he made this simple reply, "Yes, we arewasting time"; and straightway turned and left the churchyard with aquick step that seemed to tell of some new and fixed resolve. * * * * * Colonel Schuyler has been gone a week, and to-night I summoned upcourage to call on Juliet's father. I had no longer any right to callupon _her_; but who shall say I may not call on him if he chooses towelcome me and lose his time on my account. The reason for my goingis not far to seek. Orrin has been there, and Orrin cannot be trustedin her presence alone. Though he seems to have accepted his fate, heis restless, and keeps his eye on the ground in a brooding way I donot comprehend and do not altogether like. Why should he think somuch, and why should he go to her house when he knows the sight of heris inflaming to his heart and death to his self-control? Juliet's father is a simple, proud old man who makes no attempt tohide his satisfaction at his daughter's brilliant prospects. He talkedmainly of _the house_, and if he honored Orrin with half as much ofhis confidence on that subject as he did me, then Orrin must know manyparticulars about its structure of which the public are generallyignorant. Juliet was not to be seen--that is, during the first part ofthe evening, but towards its close she came into the room and showedme that same confiding courtesy which I have noticed in her ever sinceI ceased to be an aspirant for her hand. She was not so pale as onthat weird night when I saw her in the churchyard, and I thought herstep had a light spring in it which spoke of hope. She wore a gownwhich was coquettishly simple, and the fresh flower clinging to herbosom breathed a fragrance that might have intoxicated a man lessdetermined to be her friend. Her father saw us meet without anyevident anxiety; and if he was as complacent to Orrin when he washere, then Orrin had a chance to touch her hand. But was he as complacent to Orrin? That I could not find out. I amonly sure that I will be made welcome there again _if_ I confine myvisits to the father and do not seek anything more from Juliet thanthat simple touch of her hand. * * * * * Orrin has not repeated his visit, but I have repeated mine. Why?Because I am uneasy. Colonel Schuyler's house does not progress, andwhether there is any connection between this fact and that of Orrin'ssudden interest in the sawmills and quarries about here, I cannottell, but doubts of his loyalty will rise through all my friendshipfor him, and I cannot keep away from Juliet any longer. Does Juliet care for Colonel Schuyler? I have sometimes thought no, and I have oftener thought yes. At all events she trembles when shespeaks of him, and shows emotion of no slight order when a letter ofhis is suddenly put in her hand. I wish I could read her pretty, changeful face more readily. It would be a comfort for me to know thatshe saw her own way clearly, and was not disturbed by Orrin's comingsand goings. For Orrin is not a safe man, I fear, and a faith oncepledged to Colonel Schuyler should be kept. I do not think Juliet understands just how great a man ColonelSchuyler promises to be. When her father told me to-night that hisdaughter's betrothed had been charged with some very importantbusiness for the Government, her pretty lip pouted like a child's. Yetshe flushed, and for a minute looked pleased when I said, "That is aroad which leads to Washington. We shall hear of you yet as beingpresented at the White House. " I think her father anticipates the same. For he told me a few minuteslater that he had sent for tutors to teach his daughter music and thelanguages. And I noticed that at this she pouted again, and indeedbore herself in a way which promised less for her future learning thanfor that influence which breathes from gleaming eyes and witchingsmiles. Ah, I fear she is a frivolous fairy, but how pretty she is, and how dangerously captivating to a man who has once allowed himselfto study her changes of feeling and countenance. When I came away Ifelt that I had gained nothing, and lost--what? Some of thecomplacency of spirit which I had acquired after much struggle andstern determination. * * * * * Colonel Schuyler has not yet returned, and now Orrin has gone away. Indeed, no one knows where to find him nowadays, for he is here andthere on his great white horse, riding off one day and coming back thenext, ever busy, and, strange to say, always cheerful. He is makingmoney, I hear, buying up timber and then selling it to builders, buthe does not sell to one builder, whose house seems to suffer inconsequence. Where is the Colonel, and why does he not come home andlook after his own? I have learned her secret at last, and in a strange enough way. I waswaiting for her father in his own little room, and as he did not comeas soon as I anticipated, I let my secret despondency have its way fora moment, and sat leaning forward, with my head buried in my hands. Myface was to the fire and my back to the door, and for some reason Idid not hear it open, and was only aware of the presence of anotherperson in the room by the sound of a little gasp behind me, which waschoked back as soon as it was uttered. Feeling that this could comefrom no one but Juliet, I for some reason hard to fathom sat still, and the next moment became conscious of a touch soft as a rose-leafsettle on my hair, and springing up, caught the hand which had givenit, and holding it firmly in mine, gave her one look which made herchin fall slowly on her breast and her eyes seek the ground in thewildest distress and confusion. "Juliet--" I began. But she broke in with a passion too impetuous to be restrained: "Do not--do not think I knew or realized what I was doing. It wasbecause your head looked so much like his as you sat leaning forwardin the firelight that I--I allowed myself one little touch just forthe heart's ease it must bring. I--I am so lonesome, Philo, and--and--" I dropped her hand. I understood the whole secret now. My hair isblonde like Orrin's, and her feelings stood confessed, never more tobe mistaken by me. "You love Orrin!" I gasped; "you who are pledged to Colonel Schuyler!" "I love Orrin, " she whispered, "and I am pledged to Colonel Schuyler. But you will never betray me, " she said. "I betray you?" I cried, and if some of the bitterness of my owndisappointed hopes crept into my tones, she did not seem to note it, for she came quite close to my side and looked up into my face in away that almost made me forget her perfidy and her folly. "Juliet, " Iwent on, for I felt never more strongly than at this moment that Ishould act a brother's part towards her, "I could never find it in myheart to betray you, but are you sure that you are doing wisely tobetray the Colonel for a man no better than Orrin. I--I know you donot want to hear me say this, for if you care for him you must thinkhim good and noble, but Juliet, I know him and I know the Colonel, andhe is no more to be compared with the man you are betrothed tothan--" "Hush!" she cried, almost commandingly, and the airy, dainty, dimpledcreature whom I knew seemed to grow in stature and become a woman, inher indignation; "you do not know Orrin and you do not know theColonel. You shall not draw comparisons between them. I will have youthink of Orrin only, as I do, day and night, ever and always. " "But, " I exclaimed, aghast, "if you love him so and despise theColonel, why do you not break your troth with the latter?" "Because, " she murmured, with white cheeks and a wandering gaze, "Ihave sworn to marry the Colonel, and I dare not break my oath. Swornto be his wife when the house he is building is complete; and the oathwas on the graves of the dead; _on the graves of the dead!_" sherepeated. "But, " I said, without any intimation of having heard that oath, "youare breaking that oath in private with every thought you give toOrrin. Either complete your perjury by disowning the Colonelaltogether, or else give up Orrin. You cannot cling to both withoutdishonor; does not your father tell you so?" "My father--oh, he does not know; no one knows but you. My fatherlikes the Colonel; I would never think of telling him. " "Juliet, " I declared solemnly, "you are on dangerous ground. Thinkwhat you are doing before it is too late. The Colonel is not a man tobe trifled with. " "I know it, " she murmured, "I know it, " and would not say another wordor let me. And so the burden of this new apprehension is laid upon me; forhappiness cannot come out of this complication. * * * * * Where is Orrin, and what is he doing that he stays so much from home?If it were not for the intent and preoccupied look which he wears whenI do see him, I should think that he was absenting himself for thepurpose of wearing out his unhappy passion. But the short glimpses Ihave had of him as he has ridden busily through the town have left mewith no such hope, and I wait with feverish impatience for some fierceaction on his part, or what would be better, the Colonel's return. Andthe Colonel must come back soon, for nothing goes well in a longabsence, and his house is almost at a standstill. * * * * * Colonel Schuyler has come and, I hear, is storming angrily over themishaps that have delayed the progress of his new dwelling. He says hewill not go away again till it is completed, and has been riding allthe morning in every direction, engaging new men to aid the dilatoryworkmen already employed. Does Orrin know this? I will go down to hishouse and see. * * * * * And now I know _Orrin's_ secret. He was not at home, of course, andbeing determined to get at the truth of his mysterious absences, Imounted a horse of my own and rode off to find him. Why I took this upon myself, or whether I had the right to do it, Ihave not stopped to ask. I went in the direction he had last gone, andafter I had ridden through two villages I heard of him as havingpassed still farther east some two hours before. Not in the least deterred, I hurried on, and having threaded a thicketand forded a stream, I came upon a beautiful open country wholly newto me, where, on the verge of a pleasant glade and in full view of amost picturesque line of hills, I saw shining the fresh boards of anew cottage. Instantly the thought struck me, "It is Orrin's, and heis building it for Juliet, " and filled with a confusion of emotions, Ispurred on my horse, and soon drew up before it. Orrin was standing, pale and defiant, in the doorway, and as I met hiseye, I noticed, with a sick feeling of contempt, that he swung thewhip he was holding smartly against his leg in what looked like a verythreatening manner. "Good-evening, Orrin, " I cried. "You have a very pleasant sitehere--preferable to the Colonel's, I should say. " "What has the Colonel to do with me?" was his fierce reply, and heturned as if about to go into the house. "Only this, " I calmly answered; "I think he will get his house donefirst. " He wheeled and faced me, and his eye which had looked simply sullenshot a fierce and dangerous gleam. "What makes you think that?" he cried. "He has come back, and to-day engaged twenty extra men to push on thework. " "Indeed!" and there was contempt in his tone. "Well, I wish him joyand a sound roof!" And this time he did go into the house. As he had not asked me to follow, I of course had no alternative butto ride on. As I did so, I took another look at the house and saw witha strange pang at the heart that the plastering was on the walls andthe windows ready for glazing. "I was wrong, " said I to myself; "it isOrrin's house which will be finished first. " * * * * * And what if it is? Will she turn her back upon the Colonel's loftystructure and take refuge in this cottage remote from the world? Icannot believe it, knowing how she loves show and the smiles andgallantries of men. And yet--and yet, she is so capricious and Orrinso determined that I do not know what to think or what to fear, and Iride back with a heavy heart, wishing she had never come up from thefarm to worry and inflame the souls of honest men. * * * * * And now the Colonel's work goes on apace, and the whole town is filledwith the noise and bustle of lumbering carts and eager workmen. Theroof which Orrin so bitterly wished might be a sound one has beenshingled; and under the Colonel's eye and the Colonel's constantencouragement, part after part of the new building is being fitted toits place with a precision and despatch that to many minds promise thenear dawning of Juliet's wedding-day. But I know that afar in the eastanother home is nearer completion than this, and whether she knows ittoo or does not know it (which is just as probable), her wilful, sportive, and butterfly nature seems to be preparing itself for astruggle which may rend if not destroy its airy and delicate wings. I have prepared myself too, and being still and always her friend, Istand ready to mediate or assist, as opportunity offers orcircumstances demand. She realizes this, and leans on me in her secrethours of fear, or why does her face brighten when she sees me, and herlittle hand thrust itself confidingly forth from under its shroudingmantle and grasp mine with such a lingering and entreating pressure?And the Colonel? Does he realize, too, that I am any more to her thanher other cast-off lovers and would-be friends? Sometimes I think hedoes, and eyes me with suspicion. But he is ever so courteous that Icannot be sure, and so do not trouble myself in regard to a jealousyso illy founded and so easily dispelled. He is always at Juliet's side and seems to surround her with adevotion which will make it very difficult for any other man, evenOrrin, to get her ear. * * * * * The crisis is approaching. Orrin is again in town, and may be seenriding up and down the streets in his holiday clothes. Have somewhispers of his secret love and evident intentions reached the ear ofthe Colonel? Or is Juliet's father alone concerned? For I see that theblinds of her lattice are tightly shut, and watch as I may, I cannotcatch a glimpse of her eager head peering between them at theflaunting horseman as he goes careering by. * * * * * The hour has come and how different is the outcome from any I hadimagined. I was sitting last night in my own lonely little room, whichopens directly on the street, struggling as best I might against thedistraction of my thoughts which would lead me from the book I wasstudying, when a knock on the panels of my door aroused me, and almostbefore I could look up, that same door swung open and a dark formentered and stood before me. For a moment I was too dazed to see who it was, and risingceremoniously, I made my bow of welcome, starting a little as I metthe Colonel's dark eyes looking at me from the folds of the hugemantle in which he had wrapped himself. "Your worship?" I began, andstumbling awkwardly, offered him a chair which he refused with agesture of his smooth white hand. "Thank you, no, " said he, "I do not sit down in your house till I knowif it is you who have stolen the heart of my bride away from me and ifit is you with whom she is prepared to flee. " "Ah, " was my involuntary exclamation, "then it has come. You know herfolly, and will forgive it because she is such a child. " "Her folly? Are you not then the man?" he cried; but in a subdued tonewhich showed what a restraint he was putting upon himself even in themoment of such accumulated emotions. "No, " said I; "if your bride meditates flight, it is not with me shemeans to go. I am her friend, and the man who would take her from youis not. I can say no more, Colonel Schuyler. " He eyed me for a moment with a deep and searching gaze which showed methat his intellect was not asleep though his heart was on fire. "I believe you, " said he; and threw aside his cloak and sat down. "Andnow, " he asked, "who is the man?" Taken by surprise, I stammered and uttered some faint disclaimer; butseeing by his steady look and firm-set jaw that he meant to know, anddetecting as I also thought in his general manner and subdued tonesthe promise of an unexpected forbearance, I added impulsively: "Let the wayward girl tell you herself; perhaps in the telling shewill grow ashamed of her caprice. " "I have asked her, " was the stern reply, "and she is dumb. " Then insofter tones he added: "How can I do anything for her if she will notconfide in me. She has treated me most ungratefully, but I mean to bekind to her. Only I must first know if she has chosen worthily. " "Who is there of worth in town?" I asked, softened and fascinated byhis manner. "There is no man equal to yourself. " "You say so, " he cried, and waved his hand impatiently. Then with adeep and thrilling intensity which I feel yet, he repeated, "His name, his name? Tell me his name. " The Colonel is a man of power, accustomed to control men. I could notwithstand his look or be unmoved by his tones. If he meant well toOrrin and to her, what was I that I should withhold Orrin's name. Falteringly I was about to speak it when a sudden sound struck myears, and rising impetuously I drew him to the window, blowing out thecandles as I passed them. "Hark!" I cried, as the rush of pounding hoofs was heard on the road, and "Look!" I added, as a sudden figure swept by on the panting whitehorse so well known by all in that town. "Is it he?" whispered the dark figure at my side as we both strainedour eyes after Orrin's fast vanishing form. "You have seen him, " I returned; and drawing him back from the window, I closed the shutters with care, lest Orrin should be seized with afreak to return and detect me in conference with his heart's dearestenemy. Silence and darkness were now about us, and the Colonel, as if anxiousto avail himself of the surrounding gloom, caught my arm as I moved torelight the candles. "Wait, " said he; and I understood and stopped still. And so we stood for a moment, he quiet as a carven statue and Irestless but obedient to his wishes. When he stirred I carefully litthe candles, but I did not look at him till he had donned his cloakand pulled his hat well over his eyes. Then I turned, and eying himearnestly, said: "If I have made a mistake--" But he quickly interrupted me, averring: "You have made no mistake. You are a good lad, Philo, and if it hadbeen you--" He did not say what he would have done, but left thesentence incomplete and went on: "I know nothing of this Orrin Day, but what a woman wills she must have. Will you bring this fellow--heis your friend is he not?--to Juliet's house in the morning? Herfather is set on her being the mistress of the new stone house and wethree will have to reason with him, do you see?" Astonished, I bowed with something like awe. Was he so great-heartedas this? Did he intend to give up his betrothed to the man whom sheloved, and even to plead her cause with the father she feared? Myadmiration would have its vent, and I uttered some foolish words ofsympathy, which he took with the stately, rather condescending gracewhich they perhaps merited; after which, he added again: "You willcome, will you not?" and bowed kindly and retreated towards the door, while I, abashed and worshipful, followed with protestations thatnothing should hinder me from doing his will, till he had passedthrough the doorway and vanished from my sight. And yet I do not want to do his will or take Orrin to that house. Imight have borne with sad equanimity to see her married to theColonel, for he is far above me, but to Orrin--ah, that is a bitteroutlook, and I must have been a fool to have promised aught that willhelp to bring it about. Still, am I not her sworn friend, and if shethinks she can be happy with him, ought I not to do my share towardsmaking her so? I wonder if the Colonel knows that Orrin too has been building himselfa house? I did not sleep last night, and I have not eaten this morning. Thoughts robbed me of sleep, and a visit from Orrin effectually tookaway from me whatever appetite I might have had. He came in almost atdaybreak. He looked dishevelled and wild, and spoke like a man who hadstopped more than once at the tavern. "Philo, " said he, "you have annoyed me by your curiosity for more thana year; now you can do me a favor. Will you call at Juliet's house andsee if she is free to go and come as she was a week ago?" "Why?" I asked, thinking I perceived a reason for his bloodshot eye, and yet being for the moment too wary, perhaps too ungenerous, torelieve him from the tension of his uncertainty. "Why?" he repeated. "Must you know all that goes on in my mind, andcannot I keep one secret to myself?" "You ask me to do you a favor, " I quietly returned. "In order to do itintelligently, I must know why it is asked. " "I do not see that, " objected Orrin, "and if you were not such a boyI'd leave you on the spot and do the errand myself. But you mean noharm, and so I will tell you that Juliet and I had planned to run awaytogether last night, but though I was at the place of meeting, she didnot come, nor has she made any sign to show me why she failed me. " "Orrin, " I began, but he stopped me with an oath. "No sermons, " he protested. "I know what you would have done ifinstead of smiling on me she had chanced to give all her poor littleheart to you. " "I should not have tempted her to betray the Colonel, " I exclaimedhotly, perhaps because the sudden picture he presented to myimagination awoke within me such a torrent of unsuspected emotions. "Nor should I have urged her to fly with me by night and in stealth. " "You do not know what you would do, " was his rude and impatientrejoinder. "Had she looked at you, with tears in her arch yet patheticblue eyes, and listened while you poured out your soul, as if heavenwere opening before her and she had no other thought in life but you, then--" "Hush!" I cried, "do you want me to go to her house for you, or do youwant me to stay away?" "You know I want you to go. " "Then be still, and listen to what I have to say. I will go, but youmust go too. If you want to take Juliet away from the Colonel you mustdo it openly. I will not abet you, nor will I encourage anyunderhanded proceedings. " "You are a courageous lad, " he said, "in other men's affairs. Will youraise me a tomb if the Colonel runs me through with his sword?" "I at least should not feel the contempt for you which I should if youeloped with her behind his back. " "Now you are courageous on your own behalf, " laughed he, "and that isbetter and more to the point. " Yet he looked as if he could easilyspit me on his own sword, which I noticed was dangling at his heels. "Will you come?" I urged, determined not to conciliate or enlightenhim even if my forbearance cost me my life. He hesitated, and then broke into a hoarse laugh. "I have drunk justenough to be reckless, " said he; "yes, I will go; and the devil mustanswer for the result. " I had never seen him look so little the gentleman, and perhaps it wason this very account I became suddenly quite eager to take him at hisword before time and thought should give him an opportunity to becomemore like himself; for I could not but think that if she saw him inthis condition she must make comparisons between him and the Colonelwhich could not but be favorable to the latter. But it was still quiteearly, and I dared not run the risk of displeasing the Colonel byanticipating his presence, so I urged Orrin into that little backparlor of mine, where I had once hoped to see a very different personinstalled, and putting wine and biscuits before him, bade him refreshhimself while I prepared myself for appearing before the ladies. When the hour came for us to go I went to him. He was pacing the floorand trying to school himself into patience, but he made but a sorryfigure, and I felt a twinge of conscience as he thrust on his hatwithout any attempt to smooth his dishevelled locks, or rearrange hisdisordered ruffles. Should I permit him to go thus disordered, orshould I detain him long enough to fit him for the eye of the daintyJuliet? He answered the question himself. "Come, " said he, "I havechewed my sleeve long enough in suspense. Let us go and have an end ofit. If she is to be my wife she must leave the house with me to-day, if not, I have an hour's work before me down yonder, " and he pointedin the direction of his new house. "When you see the sky red atnoonday, you will know what that is. " "Orrin!" I cried, and for the first time I seized his arm withsomething like a fellow-feeling. But he shook me off. "Don't interfere with me, " he said, and strode on, sullen and fierce, towards the place where such a different greeting awaited him from anythat he feared. Ought I to tell him this? Ought I to say: "Your sullenness is uncalledfor and your fierceness misplaced; Juliet is constant, and the Colonelmeans you nothing but good"? Perhaps; and perhaps, too, I should be asaint and know nothing of earthly passions and jealousies. But I amnot. I hate this Orrin, hate him more and more as every step bringsus nearer to Juliet's house and the fate awaiting him from herweakness and the Colonel's generosity. So I hold my peace and we cometo her gate, and the recklessness that has brought him thus farabandons him on the instant and he falls back and lets me go inseveral steps before him, so that I seem to be alone when I enter thehouse, and Juliet, who is standing in the parlor between the Coloneland her father, starts when she sees me, and breaking into sobs, cries: "Oh, Philo, Philo, tell my father there is nothing between us but whatis friendly and honorable; that I--I--" "Hush!" commanded that father, while I stared at the Colonel, whosequiet, imperturbable face was for the first time such a riddle to methat I hardly heeded what the elder man said. "You have talked enough, Juliet, and denied enough. I will now speak to Mr. Adams and see whathe has to say. Last night my daughter, who, as all the town knows, isbetrothed to this gentleman"--and he waved his hand deferentiallytowards the Colonel--"was detected by me stealing out of the gardengate with a little packet on her arm. As my daughter never goes outalone, I was naturally startled, and presuming upon my rights as herfather, naturally asked her where she was going. This question, simpleas it was, seemed to both terrify and unnerve her. Stumbling back, shelooked me wildly in the eye and answered, with an effrontery she hadnever shown me before, that she was flying to escape a hated marriage. That Colonel Schuyler had returned, and as she could not be his wife, she was going to her aunt's house, where she could live in peacewithout being forced upon a man she could not love. Amazed, for I hadalways supposed her duly sensible of the honor which had been shownher by this gentleman's attentions, I drew her into my study andthere, pulling off the cloak which she held tightly drawn about her, Idiscovered that she was tricked out like a bride, and had a wholebunch of garden roses fastened in her breast. 'A pretty figure, ' criedI, 'for travelling. You are going away with some man, and it is arunaway match I have interrupted. ' She could not deny it, and justthen the Colonel came in and--but we will not talk about that. Itremained for us to find out the man who had led her to forget herduty, and I could think of no man but you. So I ask you now before mytrembling daughter and this outraged gentleman if you are thevillain. " But here Colonel Schuyler spoke up quietly and without visible anger:"I was about to say when this gentleman's entrance interrupted mywords that I had been convinced overnight that our first suspicionswere false, and that Mr. Adams was, as your daughter persists indeclaring, simply a somewhat zealous friend. " "But, " hastily vociferated the old man, "there has been no one elseabout my daughter for months. If Mr. Adams is not to blame for thisattempted escapade, who is? I should like to see the man, and see himstanding just there. " "Then look and tell me what you think of him, " came with an insolentfierceness from the doorway, and Orrin, booted and spurred, with mudon his holiday hose, and his hat still on his head, strode into ourmidst and confronted us all with an air of such haughty defiance thatit half robbed him of his ruffianly appearance. Juliet shrieked and stepped back, fascinated and terrified. TheColonel frowned darkly, and the old man, who had seemed by his wordsto summon him before us, quailed at the effect of his words and stoodlooking from the well-known but unexpected figure thus introducedamongst us, to the Colonel who persistently avoided his gaze, till thesituation became unbearable, and I turned about as if to go. Instantly the Colonel took advantage of the break and spoke to Orrin:"And so it is to you, sir, that I have to address the few words I haveto say?" "Yes, to him and to me!" cried little Juliet, and gliding from betweenthe two natural protectors of her girlhood she crossed the floor andstood by Orrin's side. This action, so unexpected and yet so natural, took away whateverrestraint we had hitherto placed upon ourselves, and the Colonellooked for a moment as if his self-control would abandon him entirelyand leave him a prey to man's fiercest and most terrible passions. Buthe has a strong soul, and before I could take a step to interposemyself between him and Juliet, his face had recovered its steadyaspect and his hands ceased from their ominous trembling. Her father, on the contrary, seemed to grow more ireful with every instant that hesaw her thus defiant of his authority, while Orrin, pleased with hercourage and touched, I have no doubt, by the loving confidence of herpleading eyes, threw his arm about her with a gesture of pride whichmade one forget still more his disordered and dishevelled condition. I said nothing, but I did not leave the room. "Juliet!"--the words came huskily from the angry father's lips, "comefrom that man's embrace, and do not make me shudder that I everwelcomed the Colonel to my dishonored house. " But the Colonel, putting out his hand, said calmly: "Let her stay; since she has chosen this very honorable gentleman tobe her husband, where better could she stand than by his side?" Then forcing himself still more to seem impassive, he bowed to Orrin, and with great suavity remarked: "If she had chosen me to that honor, as I had every reason to believe she had, it would not have been manymore weeks before I should have welcomed her into a home befittingher beauty and her ambition. May I ask if you can do as much for her?Have you a home for your bride in which I may look forward to payingher the respects which my humble duty to her demands?" Ah then, Orrin towered proudly, and the pretty Juliet smiled withsomething of her old archness. "Saddle your horse, " cried the young lover, "and ride to the east. Ifyou do not find a wee, fresh nest there, I am no prophet. What! steala wife and not have a home to put her in!" And he laughed till the huge brown rafters above his head seemed totremble, so blithe did he feel, and so full of pride at thus daringthe one great man in the town. But the Colonel did not laugh, nor did he immediately answer. He hadevidently not heard of the little cottage beyond both thicket andstream, and was consequently greatly disconcerted. But just when wewere all wondering what held him so restrained, and what the wordswere which should break the now oppressive silence, he spoke andsaid: "A wee nest is no place for the lady who was to have been my wife. Ifyou will have patience and wait a month she shall have the home thathas been reared for her. The great stone house would not know anyother mistress, and therefore it shall be hers. " "No, no, " Orrin began, aghast at such generosity. But the thoughtlessJuliet, delighted at a prospect which promised her both splendor andlove, uttered such a cry of joy that he stopped abashed and halfangry, and turning upon her, said: "Are you not satisfied with what Ican give you, and must you take presents even from the man you haveaffected to despise?" "But, but, he is so good, " babbled out the inconsiderate little thing, "and--and I do like the great stone house, and we could be so happy init, just like a king and queen, if--if--" She had the grace to stop, perhaps because she saw nothing but rebukein the faces around her. But the Colonel, through whose voice ran inspite of himself an icy vein of sarcasm, observed, with another of hislow bows: "You shall indeed be like king and queen there. If you do not believeme, come there with me a month hence, and I will show you what adisappointed man can do for the woman he has loved. " And taking by thearm the old man who with futile rage had tried more than once to breakinto this ominous conversation, he drew him persuasively to his side, and so by degrees from the room. "Oh, " cried Juliet, as the door closed behind them, "can he mean it?Can he mean it?" And Orrin, a little awed, did not reply, but I saw by his face andbearing that whether the Colonel meant it or not was little to him;that the cottage beyond the woods was the destined home of his bride, and that we must be prepared to lose her from our midst, perhapsbefore the month was over which the Colonel had bidden them to wait. I do not know through whom Dame Gossip became acquainted withyesterday's events, but everywhere in town people are laying theirheads together in wonder over the jilting of Colonel Schuyler and theunprecedented magnanimity which he has shown in giving his new houseto the rebellious lovers. If I have been asked one question to-day, Ihave been asked fifty, and Orrin, who flies into a rage at the leastintimation that he will accept the gift which has been made him, spends most of his time in asserting his independence, and the firmresolution which he has made to owe nothing to the generosity of theman he has treated with such unquestionable baseness. Juliet keepsvery quiet, but from the glimpse I caught of her this afternoon at hercasement, I judge that the turn of affairs has had a very enliveningeffect upon her beauty. Her eyes fairly sparkled as she saw me; andwith something like her old joyous abandonment of manner, she tore offa branch of the flowering almond at her window and tossed it withdelicious laughter at my feet. Yet though I picked it up and carriedit for a few steps beyond her gate, I soon dropped it over the wall, for her sparkle and her laughter hurt me, and I would rather have seenher less joyous and a little more sensible of the ruin she hadwrought. For she has wrought ruin, as any one can see who looks at the Colonellong enough to note his eye. For though he holds himself erect andwalks proudly through the town, there is that in his look which makesme tremble and hold my own weak complainings in check. He has been upto his house to-day, and when he came back there was not a blind fromone end of the street to the other but quivered when he went by, socurious are the women to see him who they cannot but feel has meritedall the sympathy if not the homage of their sex. Ralph Urphistonetells me to-night that the workmen at the new house have been offeredextra wages if they put the house into habitable condition by the endof the month. * * * * * For all his secret satisfaction Orrin is very restless. He has triedto induce Juliet to marry him at once, and go with him to the littlecottage he has raised for her comfort. But she puts him off withexcuses, which, however, are so mingled with sweet coquetries andcaresses, that he cannot reproach her without seeming insensible toher affection, and it is not until he is away from the fascination ofher presence, and amongst those who do not hesitate to say that hewill yet see the advantage of putting his brilliant bird in a cagesuitable to her plumage, that he remembers his manhood and chafes athis inability to assert it. I am sorry for him in a way, but not sodeeply as I might be if _he_ were more humble and more truly sensibleof the mischief he has wrought. * * * * * Orrin will yet make himself debtor to the Colonel. Something hashappened which proves that fate--or man--is working against him tothis end, and that he must from the very force of circumstancesfinally succumb. I say _man_, but do I not mean _woman_? Ah, no, no, no! my pen ran away with me, my thoughts played me false. It couldhave been no woman, for if it was, then is Juliet a--Let me keep tofacts. I have not self-control enough for speculation. To-day the sun set red. As we had been having gray skies, and more orless rain for a fortnight, the brightness and vivid crimson in thewest drew many people to their doors. I was amongst them, and as Istood looking intently at the sky that was now one blaze of gloryfrom horizon to zenith, Orrin stepped up behind me and said: "Do you want to take a ride to-night?" Seeing him look more restless and moody than ever, I answered "Yes, "and accordingly about eight that night he rode up to my door and westarted forth. I thought he would turn in the direction of the stone house, for onenight when I had allowed myself to go there in my curiosity at itsprogress, I had detected him crouching in one of the thickest shadowscast by the surrounding trees. But if any such idea had been in hismind, it soon vanished, for almost the instant I was in the saddle, hewheeled himself about and led the way eastward, whipping and spurringhis horse as if it were a devil's ride he contemplated, and not thateasy, restful canter under the rising moon demanded by our excitedspirits and the calm, exquisite beauty of the summer night. "Are you not coming?" was shouted back to me, as the distanceincreased between us. My answer was to spur my own horse, and as we rode once more side byside, I could not but note what a wild sort of beauty there was inhim as he thus gave himself up to the force of his feelings and therestless energy of this harum-scarum ride. "Very different, " thoughtI, "would the Colonel look on a horse at this hour of night"; andwondered if Juliet could see him thus she would any longer wound himby her hesitations, after having driven him by her coquetries toexpect full and absolute surrender on her part. Did he guess my thoughts, or was his mind busy with the same, that hesuddenly cried in harsh but thrilling tones: "If I had her where she ought to be, here behind me on this horse, Iwould ride to destruction before I would take her back again to thetown and the temptations which beset her while she can hear the soundof hammer upon stone. " "And you would be right, " I was about to say in some bitterness, Iown, when the full realization of the road we were upon stopped me andI observed instead: "You would take her yonder where you hope to see her happy, though noother woman lives within a half-mile of the place. " "No man you should say, " quoth Orrin bitterly, lashing his horse tillit shot far ahead of me, so that some few minutes passed before wewere near enough together for him to speak again. Then he said: "Sheloads me with promises and swears that she loves me more than all theworld. If half of this is true she ought to be happy with me in ahovel, while I have a dainty cottage for her dwelling, where the vineswill soon grow and the birds sing. You have not seen it since it hasbeen finished. You shall see it to-night. " I choked as I tried to answer, and wondered if he had any idea of whatI had to contend with in these rides I seemed forced to take withoutany benefit to myself. If he had, he was merciless, for once launchedinto talk he kept on till I was almost wild with hateful sympathy andjealous chagrin. Suddenly he paused. The forest we had been threading had for the last few minutes beengrowing thinner, and as the quick cessation in his speech caused me tolook up, I saw, or thought I saw, a faint glow shining through thebranches before me, which could not have come from the reflectionmade by the setting sun, as that had long ago sunk into darkness. Orrin who, as he had ceased speaking, had suddenly reined in hispanting horse, now gave a shout and shot forward, and I, hardlyknowing what to fear or expect, followed him as fast as my evidentlyweary animal would carry me, and thus bounding along with but a fewpaces between us, we cleared the woods and came out into the openfields beyond. As we did so a cry went up from Orrin, faintly echoedby my own lips. It was a fire that we saw, and the flames, which hadnow got furious headway, rose up like pillars to the sky, illuminatingall the country round, and showing me, both by their position and theglare of the stream beneath them, that it was Orrin's house which wasburning, and Orrin's hopes which were being destroyed before our eyes. The cry he gave as he fully realized this I shall never forget, northe gesture with which he drove his spurs into his horse and flasheddown that long valley into the ever-increasing glare that lightedfirst his flowing hair and the wet flanks of the animal he bestrode, and finally seemed to envelop him altogether, till he looked like someavenging demon rushing through his own element of fury and fire. I was far behind him, but I made what time I could, feeling to thecore, as I passed, the weirdness of the solitude before me, with justthis element of horror flaming up in its midst. Not a sound save thatof our pounding hoofs interrupted that crackling sound of burningwood, and when the roof fell in, as it did before I could reach hisside, I could hear distinctly the echo which followed it. Orrin mayhave heard it too, for he gave a groan and drew in his horse, and whenI reached him I saw him sitting there before the smouldering ashes ofhis home, silent and inert, without a word to say or an ear to hearthe instinctive words of sympathy I could not now keep back. Who had done it? Who had started the blaze which had in one half-hourundone the work and hope of months? That was the question which firstroused me and caused me to search the silence and darkness of thenight for some trace of a human presence, if only so much as the markof a human foot. And I found it. There, in the wet margin of thestream, I came upon a token which may mean nothing and which maymean--But I cannot write even here of the doubts it brought me; Iwill only tell how on our slow and wearisome passage home through thesombre woods, Orrin suddenly let his bridle fall, and, flinging up hisarms above his head, cried bitterly: "O that I did not love her so well! O that I had never seen her whowould make of me a slave when I would be a man!" * * * * * The gossips at the corners nod knowingly this morning, and Orrin, whose brow is moodier than the Colonel's, walks fiercely amongst themwithout word and without look. He is on his way to Juliet's house, andif there is enchantment left in smiles, I bid her to use it, for herfate is trembling in the balance, and may tip in a direction of whichshe little recks. * * * * * Orrin has come back. Striding impetuously into the room where I sat atwork, he drew himself up till his figure showed itself in all itsfull and graceful proportions. "Am I a man?" he asked, "or, " with a fall in his voice brimmed withfeeling, "am I a fool? She met me with such an unsuspicious look, Philo, and bore herself with such an innocent air, that I not onlycould not say what I meant to say, but have promised to do what I havesworn never to do--accept the Colonel's unwelcome gift, and make hermistress of the new stone house. " "You are--a man, " I answered. For what are men but fools where womenof such enchantment are concerned! He groaned, perhaps at the secret sarcasm hidden in my tone, and satdown unbidden at the table where I was writing. "You did not see her, " he cried. "You do not know with what charms sheworks, when she wishes to comfort and allure. " Ah! did I not. "AndPhilo, " he went on, almost humbly for him, "you are mistaken if youthink she had any hand in the ruin which has come upon me. She had not. How I know it I cannot say, but I am ready to swear it, and you mustforget any foolish fears I may have shown or any foolish words I mayhave uttered in the first confusion of my loss and disappointment. " "I will forget, " said I. "The fact is I do not understand her, " he eagerly explained. "Therewas innocence in her air, but there was mockery too, and she laughedas I talked of my grief and rage, as though she thought I was playinga part. It was merry laughter, and there was no ring of falsehood init, but why should she laugh at all?" This was a question I could not answer; who could? Juliet is beyondthe comprehension of us all. "But what is the use of plaguing myself with riddles?" he now asked, starting up as suddenly as he had sat down. "We are to be married in amonth, and the Colonel--I have seen the Colonel--has promised to danceat our wedding. Will it be in the new stone house? It would be afitting end to this comedy if he were to dance in _that_?" I thought as Orrin did about this, but with more seriousness perhaps;and it was not till after he had left me that I remembered I had notasked whom he suspected of firing his house, now that he was assuredof the innocence of her who was most likely to profit by its burning. * * * * * "Now I understand Juliet!" was the cry with which Orrin burst into mypresence late this afternoon. "Men are saying and women whisperingthat I destroyed my own house, in order to save myself the shame ofaccepting the Colonel's offer while I had a roof of my own. " And, burning with rage, he stamped his foot upon the ground, and shook hishand so threateningly in the direction of his fancied enemies that Ifelt some reflection of his anger in my own breast, and said or triedto say that they could not know him as I did or they would neveraccuse him of so mean a deed, whatever else they might bring againsthim. "It makes me wild, it makes me mad, it makes me feel like leaving thetown forever!" was his hoarse complaint as I finished my feebleattempt at consolation. "If Juliet were half the woman she ought to beshe would come and live with me in a log-cabin in the woods beforeshe would accept the Colonel's house now. And to think that she, _she_should be affected by the opinions of the rest, and think me sodestitute of pride that I would stoop to sacrifice my own home for thesake of stepping into that of a rival's. O woman, woman, what are youmade of? Not of the same stuff as we men, surely. " I strove to calm him, for he was striding fiercely and impatientlyabout the room. But at my first word he burst forth with: "And her father, who should control her, aids and encourages herfollies. He is a slave to the Colonel, who is the slave of his ownwill. " "In this case, " I quietly observed, "his will seems to be mostkindly. " "That is the worst of it, " chafed Orrin. "If only he offered meopposition I could struggle with him. But it is his generosity I hate, and the humiliating position into which it thrusts me. And that is notall, " he angrily added, while still striding feverishly about theroom. "The Colonel seems to think us his property ever since wedecided to accept his, and as a miser watches over his gold so doeshe watch over us, till I scarcely have the opportunity now of speakingto Juliet alone. If I go to her house, there he is sitting like ablack statue at the fireplace, and when I would protest, and lead herinto another room or into the garden, he rises and overwhelms me withsuch courtesies and subtle disquisitions that I am tripped up in myendeavors, and do not know how to leave or how to stay. I wish hewould fall sick, or his house tumble about his head!" "Orrin, Orrin!" I cried. But he interrupted my remonstrance with thewords: "It is not decent. I am her affianced husband now, and he should leaveus alone. Does he think I can ever forget that he used to court heronce himself, and that the favors she now shows me were once given asfreely, if not as honestly, to him? He knows I cannot forget, and hedelights--" "There, Orrin, " I broke in, "you do him wrong. The Colonel is aboveyour comprehension as he is above mine; but there is nothingmalevolent in him. " "I don't know about that, " rejoined his angry rival. "If he wanted tosteal back my bride he could take no surer course for doing it. Juliet, who is fickle as the wind, already looks from his face to mineas if she were contrasting us. And he is so damned handsome and suaveand self-forgetting!" "And you, " I could not help but say, "are so fierce and sullen even inyour love. " "I know it, " was his half-muttered retort, "but what can you expect?Do you think I will see him steal her heart away from before my eyes?" "It would be but a natural return on his part for your formercourtesies, " I could not forbear saying, in my own secret chagrin andsoreness of heart. "But he shall not do it, " exclaimed Orrin, with a backward toss of hishead, and a sudden thump of his strong hand on the table before me. "Iwon her once against all odds, and I will keep her if I have to donthe devil's smiles myself. He shall never again see her eyes restlonger on his face than mine. I will hold her by the power of my lovetill he finds himself forgotten, and for very shame steals away, leaving me with the bride he has himself bestowed upon me. He shallnever have Juliet back. " "I doubt if he wishes to, " I quietly remarked, as Orrin, weary withpassion, ran from my presence. I do not know whether Orrin succeeded or not in his attempts to shamethe Colonel from intruding upon his interviews with Juliet. I am onlysure that Orrin's countenance smoothed itself after this day, and thatI heard no more complaints of Juliet's wavering fidelity. I myself donot believe she has ever wavered. Simply because she ought from everystand-point of good judgment and taste to have preferred the Coloneland clung to him, she will continue to cleave to Orrin and make himthe idol of her wayward heart. But it is all a mystery to me and onethat does not make me very happy. * * * * * I went up by myself to the new stone house to-day, and found that itonly needs the finishing touches. Twenty workmen or more were there, and the great front door had just been brought and was leaning againstthe walls preparatory to being hung. Being curious to see how theywere progressing within, I climbed up to one of the windows and lookedin, and not satisfied with what I could thus see, made my way into thehouse and up the main staircase, which I was surprised to see wasnearly completed. The sound of the hammer and saw was all about me, and the calling oforders from above and below interfered much with any sentimentalfeelings I might have had. But I was not there to indulge insentiment, and so I roamed on from room to room till I suddenly cameupon a sight that drove every consideration of time and place from mymind, and made me for a moment forgetful of every other sentiment thanadmiration. This was nothing less than the glimpse which I obtained inpassing one of the windows, of the Colonel himself down on his kneeson the scaffolding aiding the workmen. So, so, he is not content withhurrying the work forward by his means and influence, but is lendingthe force of his example, and actually handling the plane and saw inhis anxiety not to disappoint Juliet in regard to the day she hasfixed for her marriage. A week ago I should have told Orrin what I had seen, but I had nodesire to behold the old frowns come back to his face, so I determinedto hold my silence with him. But Juliet ought to know with what mannerof heart she has been so recklessly playing, so after stealing downthe stairs I felt I should never have mounted, I crept from the houseand made my way as best I could through the huge forest-trees that sothickly clustered at its back, till I came upon the high-road whichleads to the village. Walking straight to Juliet's house I asked tosee her, and shall never forget the blooming beauty of her presence asshe stepped into the room and gave me her soft white hand to kiss. As she is no longer the object of my worship and hardly the friend ofmy heart, I think I can speak of her loveliness now without beingmisunderstood. So I will let my pen trace for once a record of hercharms, which in that hour were surely great enough to excuse therivalry of which they had been the subject, and perhaps to account forthe disinterestedness of the man who had once given her his heart. She is of medium height, this Juliet, and her form has that sway in itwhich you see in a lily nodding on its stem. But she is no lily in hermost enchanting movements, but rather an ardent passion-flower burningand palpitating in the sun. Her skin, which is milk-white, has strangeflushes in it, and her eyes, which never look at you twice with thesame meaning, are blue, or gray, or black, as her feeling varies andthe soul informing them is in a state of joy, or trouble. Her mostbewitching feature is her mouth, which has two dangerous dimples nearit that go and come, sometimes without her volition and sometimes, Ifear, with her full accord and desire. Her hair is brown and falls insuch a mass of ringlets that no cap has ever yet been found which canconfine it and keep it from weaving a golden net in which to entanglethe hearts of men. When she smiles you feel like rushing forward; whenshe frowns you question yourself humbly what you have done to merit alook so out of keeping with the playful cast of her countenance andthe arch bearing of her spirited young form. She was dressed, as shealways is, simply, but there was infinite coquetry in the tie of theblue ribbon on her shoulder, and if a close cap of dainty lace couldmake a face look more entrancing, I should like the privilege ofseeing it. She was in an amiable mood and smiled upon my homage like afairy queen. "I have come to pay my final respects to Juliet Playfair, " Iannounced; "for by the tokens up yonder she will soon be classed amongour matrons. " My tone was formal and she looked surprised at it, but my news waswelcome and so she made me a demure little courtesy before sayingjoyously: "Yes, the house is nearly done, and to-morrow Orrin and I are going upthere together to see it. The Colonel has asked us to do this that wemight say whether all is to our liking and convenience. " "The Colonel is a man in a thousand, " I began, but, seeing her frownin her old pettish way, I perceived that she partook enough of Orrin'sspirit to dislike any allusion to one whose generosity threw her ownselfishness into startling relief. So I said no more on this topic, but let my courtesy expend itself ingood wishes, and came away at last with a bewildering remembrance ofher beauty, which I am doing my best to blot out by faithfullyrecounting to myself the story of those infinite caprices of herswhich have come so near wrecking more than one honorable heart. I do not expect to visit her again until I pay my respects to her asOrrin's wife. * * * * * It is the day when Orrin and Juliet are to visit the new house. If Ihad not known this from her own lips, I should have known it from thefact that the workmen all left at noon, in order, as one of them said, to leave the little lady more at her ease. I saw them coming down theroad, and had the curiosity to watch for the appearance of Orrin andthe Colonel at Juliet's gate but they did not come, and assured bythis that they meditated a later visit than I had anticipated, I wentabout my work. This took me up the road, and as it chanced, led mewithin a few rods of the wood within which lies the new stone house. Ihad not meant to go there, for I have haunted the place enough, butthis time there was reason for it, and satisfied with the fact, Iendeavored to fix my mind on other matters and forget who was likelyat any moment to enter the forest behind me. But when one makes an effort to forget he is sure to remember all themore keenly, and I was just picturing to my mind Juliet's face andJuliet's pretty air of mingled pride and disdain as the first sight ofthe broad stone front burst upon her, when I heard through thestillness of the woods the faint sound of a saw, which coming from thedirection of the house seemed to say that some one was still at workthere. As I had understood that all the men had been given ahalf-holiday, I felt somewhat surprised at this, and unconsciously tomyself moved a few steps nearer the opening where the house stood, when suddenly all was still and I could not for the moment determinewhether I had really heard the sound of a saw or not. Annoyed atmyself, and ashamed of an interest that made every trivial incidentconnected with this affair of such moment to me, I turned back to mywork, and in a few moments had finished it and left the wood, whenwhat was my astonishment to see Orrin coming from the same place, with his face turned toward the village, and a hardy, determinedexpression upon it which made me first wonder and then ask myself if Ireally comprehended this man or knew what he cherished in his heart ofhearts. Going straight up to him, I said: "Well, Orrin, what's this? Coming away from the house instead of goingto it? I understood that you and Juliet were expecting to visit ittogether this afternoon. " He paused, startled, and his eyes fell as I looked him straight in theface. "We are going to visit it, " he admitted, "but I thought it would bewiser for me to inspect the place first and see if all was right. Anunfinished building has so many traps in it, you know. " And he laughedloudly and long, but his mirth was forced, and I turned and lookedafter him, as he strode away, with a vague but uneasy feeling I didnot myself understand. "Will the Colonel go with you?" I called out. He wheeled about as if stung. "Yes, " he shouted, "the Colonel will gowith us. Did you suppose he would allow us the satisfaction of goingalone? I tell you, Philo, " and he strode back to my side, "the Colonelconsiders us his property. Is not that pleasant? His _property_! Andso we are, " he fiercely added, "while we are his debtors. But we shallnot be his debtors long. When we are married--if we _are_ married--Iwill take Juliet from this place if I have to carry her away by force. She shall never be the mistress of this house. " "Orrin! Orrin!" I protested. "I have said it, " was his fierce rejoinder, and he left me for thesecond time and passed hurriedly down the street. I was therefore somewhat taken aback when a little while later hereappeared with Juliet and the Colonel, in such a mood of forcedgayety that more than one turned to look after them as they passedmerrily laughing down the road. Will Juliet never be the mistress ofthat house? I think she will, my Orrin. That dimpled smile of hers hasmore force in it than that dominating will of yours. If she chooses tohold her own she will hold it, and neither you nor the Colonel canever say her nay. What did Orrin tell me? That she would never be mistress of thathouse? Orrin was right, she never will; but who could have thought ofa tragedy like this? Not I, not I; and if Orrin did and planned it--But let me tell the whole just as it happened, keeping down my horrortill the last word is written and I have plainly before me the awfuloccurrences of this fearful day. They went, the three, to that fatal house together, and no man, savingmyself perhaps, thought much more about the matter till we began tosee Juliet's father peering anxiously from over his gate in thedirection of the wood. Then we realized that the afternoon had longpassed and that it was getting dark; and going up to the old man, Iasked whom he was looking for. The answer was as we expected. "I am looking for Juliet. The Colonel took her and Orrin up to theirnew house, but they do not come back. I had a dreadful dream lastnight, and it frightens me. Why don't they come? It must be darkenough in the wood. " "They will come soon, " I assured him, and moved off, for I do not likeJuliet's father. But when I passed by there again a half-hour later and found the oldman still standing bare-headed and with craning neck at his post, Ibecame very uneasy myself, and proposed to two or three neighbors, whom I found standing about, that we should go toward the woods andsee if all were well. They agreed, being affected, doubtless, likemyself, by the old man's fears, and as we proceeded down the street, others joined us till we amounted in number to a half-dozen or more. Yet, though the occasion seemed a strange one, we were not reallyalarmed till we found ourselves at the woods and realized how darkthey were and how still. Then I began to feel an oppression at myheart, and trod with careful and hesitating steps till we came intothe open space in which the house stands. Here it was lighter, but oh!how still. I shall never forget how still; when suddenly a shrill crybroke from one amongst us, and I saw Ralph Urphistone pointing withfinger frozen in horror at something which lay in ghastly outline uponthe broad stone which leads up to the gap of the great front door. What was it? We dared not approach to see, yet we dared not lingerquiescent. One by one we started forward till finally we all stood ina horrified circle about the thing that looked like a shadow, and yetwas not a shadow, but some horrible nightmare that made us gasp andshudder till the moon came suddenly out, and we saw that what wefeared and shrank from were the bodies of Juliet and Orrin, he lyingwith face upturned and arms thrown out, and she with her head pillowedon his breast as if cast there in her last faint moment ofconsciousness. They were both dead, having fallen through the planksof the scaffolding, as was shown by the fatal gap open to themoonlight above our heads. Dead! dead! and though no man there knewhow, the terror of their doom and the retribution it seemed to bespeakwent home to our hearts, and we bowed our heads with a simultaneouscry of terror, which in that first moment was too overwhelming evenfor grief. The Colonel was nowhere to be seen, and after the first few minutes ofbenumbing horror, we tried to call aloud his name. But the cries diedin our throat, and presently one amongst us withdrew into the house tosearch, and then another and another, till I was left alone in awfulattendance upon the dead. Then I began to realize my own anguish, andwith some last fragment of secret jealousy--or was it from some otherless definite but equally imperative feeling?--was about to stoopforward and lift her head from a pillow that I somehow felt defiledit, when a quick hand drew me aside, and looking up, I saw Ralphstanding at my back. He did not speak, and his figure looked ghostlyin the moonlight, but his hand was pointing toward the house, and whenI moved to follow him, he led the way into the hollow entrance and upthe stairway till we came to the upper story where he stopped, andmotioned me toward a door opening into one of the rooms. There were several of our number already standing there, so I did nothesitate to approach, and as I went the darkness in which I hadhitherto moved disappeared before the broad band of moonlight shininginto the room before us, and I saw, darkly silhouetted against ashining background, the crouching figure of the Colonel, staring withhollow eyes and maddened mien out of the unfinished window throughwhich in all probability the devoted couple had stepped to theirdestruction. "Can you make him speak?" asked one. "He does not seem to heed us, though we have shouted to him and even shook his arm. " "I shall not try, " said I. "Horror like this should be respected. " Andgoing softly in I took up my station by his side in silent awe. But they would have me talk, and finally in some desperation I turnedto him and said, quietly: "The scaffolding broke beneath them, did it not?" At which he firststared and then flung up his arms with a wild but suppressed cry. Buthe said nothing, and next moment had settled again into his oldattitude of silent horror and amazement. "He might better be lying with them, " I whispered after a moment, coming from his side. And one by one they echoed my words, and as hefailed to move or even show any symptoms of active life, we graduallydrifted from the spot till we were all huddled again below in thehollow blackness of that doorway guarded over by the dead. Who should tell her father? They all looked at me, but I shook myhead, and it fell to another to perform this piteous errand, forfearful thoughts were filling my brain, and Orrin did not lookaltogether guiltless to me as he lay there dead beside the maiden hehad declared so fiercely should never be mistress of this house. * * * * * Was ever such a night of horror known in this town! They have brought the two bruised bodies down into the village andthey now lie side by side in the parlor where I last saw Juliet in thebloom and glow of life. The Colonel is still crouching where I lefthim. No one can make him speak and no one can make him move, and theterror which his terror has produced affects the whole community, noteven the darkness of the night serving to lessen the wild excitementwhich drives men and women about the streets as if it were broaddaylight, and makes of every house an open thorough-fare throughwhich anybody who wishes can pass. I, who have followed every change and turn in this whole calamitousaffair, am like one benumbed at this awful crisis. I too go and comethrough the streets, hear people say in shouts, in cries, with bittertears and wild lamentations, "Juliet is dead!" "Orrin is dead!" andget no sense from the words. I have even been more than once to thatspot where they lie in immovable beauty, and though I gaze and gazeupon them, I feel nothing--not even wonder. Only the remembrance ofthat rigid figure frozen into its place above the gulf where so muchyouth and so many high hopes fell, has power to move me. When amid theshadows which surround me I see _that_, I shudder and the groan risesslowly to my lips as if I too were looking down into a gulf from whichhope and love would never again rise. * * * * * The Colonel is now in his father's house. He was induced to leave theplace by Ralph Urphistone's little child. When the great man firstfelt the touch of those baby fingers upon his, he shuddered and halfrecoiled, but as the little one pulled him gently but persistentlytowards the stair, he gradually yielded to her persuasion, andfollowed till he had descended to the ground-floor and left the fatalhouse. I do not think any other power could have induced him to passthat blood-stained threshold. For he seems thoroughly broken down, andwill, I fear, never be the same man that he was before this fearfultragedy took place before his eyes. All day I have paced the floor of my room asking myself if I shouldallow Juliet to be laid away in the same tomb as Orrin. He was hermurderer, without doubt, and though he has shared her doom, was itright for me to allow one stone to be raised above their unitedgraves. Feeling said no, but reason bade me halt before I disturbedthe whole community with whispers of a crime. I therefore remainedundecided, and it was in this same condition of doubt that I finallywent to the funeral and stood with the rest of the lads beside theopen grave which had been dug for the unhappy lovers in that sunnyspot beside the great church door. At sight of this grave and the twincoffins about to be lowered into it, I felt my struggle renewed, andyet I held my peace and listened as best I could to the minister'swords and the broken sobs of such as had envied these two in theirdays of joyance, but had only pity for pleasure so soon over and hopesdoomed to such early destruction. We were all there; Ralph and Lemuel and the other neighbors, old andyoung, all except that chief of mourners, the Colonel; for he wasstill under the influence of that horror which kept him enchained insilence, and had not even been sensible enough of the day and itsmournful occasion to rise and go to the window as the long funeralcortege passed his house. We were all there and the minister had saidthe words, and Orrin's body had been lowered to its final rest, whensuddenly, as they were about to move Juliet, a tumult was observed inthe outskirts of the crowd, and the Colonel towering in his rage andappalling in his just indignation, fought his way through therecoiling masses till he stood in our very midst. "Stop!" he cried, "this burial must not go on. " And he advanced hisarm above Juliet's body as if he would intervene his very heartbetween it and the place of darkness into which it was about todescend. "She was the victim, he the murderer; they shall not lietogether if I have to fling myself between them in the grave which youhave dug. " "But--but, " interposed the minister, calm and composed even in theface of this portentous figure and the appalling words which it haduttered, "by what right do you call this one a murderer and the othera victim? Did you see him murder her? Was there a crime enacted beforeyour eyes?" "The boards were sawn, " was the startling answer. "They must have beensawn or they would never have given way beneath so light a weight. Andthen he urged her--I saw him--pleaded with her, drew her by force ofeye and hand to step upon the scaffold without, though there was noneed for it, and she recoiled. And when her light foot was on it andher half-smiling, half-timid face looked back upon us, he leaped outbeside her, when instantly came the sound of a great crack, and Iheard his laugh and her cry go up together, and--and--everything hasbeen midnight in my soul ever since, till suddenly through the blankand horror surrounding me I caught the words, 'They will lie togetherin one tomb!' Then--then I awoke and my voice came back to me and mymemory, and hither I hastened to stop this unhallowed work; for to laythe victim beside her murderer is a sacrilege which I for one wouldcome back even from the grave to prevent. " "But why, " moaned the father feebly amid the cries and confusion whichhad been aroused by so gruesome an interference on the brink of thegrave, "but why should Orrin wish my Juliet's death? They were to havebeen married soon--" But piteous as were his tones no one listened, for just then a lad whohad been hiding behind the throng stepped out before us, showing aface so white and a manner so perturbed that we all saw that he hadsomething to say of importance in this matter. "The boards _have_ been sawn, " he said. "I wanted to know and Iclimbed up to see. " At which words the whole crowd moved and swayed, and a dozen hands stooped to lift the body of Juliet and carry it awayfrom that accursed spot. But the minister is a just man and cautious, and he lifted up his armsin such protest that they paused. "Who knows, " he suggested, "that it was Orrin's hand which handled thesaw?" And then I perceived that it was time for me to speak. So I raised myvoice and told my story, and as I told it the wonder grew on everyface and the head of each man slowly drooped till we all stood withdowncast eyes. For crime had never before been amongst us or soiledthe honor of our goodly town. Only the Colonel still stood erect; andas the vision of his outstretched arm and flaming eyes burned deeperand deeper into my consciousness, I stammered in my speech and thensobbed, and was the first to lift the silent form of the beauteousdead and bear it away from the spot denounced by one who had done somuch for her happiness and had met with such a bitter andheart-breaking reward. And where did we finally lay her? In that spot--ah! why does my bloodrun chill while I write it--where she stood when she took that oath tothe Colonel, whose breaking caused her death. A few words more and this record must be closed forever. That night, when all was again quiet in the village and the mourners no longerwent about the streets, Lemuel, Ralph, and I went for a final visit tothe new stone house. It showed no change, that house, and save for thebroken scaffolding above gave no token of its having been the scene ofsuch a woful tragedy. But as we looked upon it from across itsgruesome threshold Lemuel said: "It is a goodly structure and nigh completed, but the hand that beganit will never finish it, nor will man or woman ever sleep within itswalls. The place is accursed, and will stand accursed till it isconsumed by God's lightning or falls piecemeal to the ground fromnatural decay. Though its stones are fresh, I see ruin already writtenupon its walls. " It was a strong statement, and we did not believe it, but when we gotback to the village we were met by one who said: "The Colonel has stopped the building of the new house. 'It is to bean everlasting monument, ' he says, 'to a rude man's pride and a sweetwoman's folly. '" Will it be a monument that he will love to gaze upon? I wot not, orany other man who remembers Juliet's loveliness and the charm it gaveto our village life for one short year. * * * * * What was it that I said about this record being at an end? Somerecords do not come to an end, and though twenty years have passedsince I wrote the above, I have cause this day to take these fadedleaves from their place and add a few lines to the story of theColonel's new house. It is an old house now, old and desolate. As Lemuel said--he is one ofour first men--it is accursed and no one has ever felt brave enough orreckless enough to care to cross again its ghostly threshold. Though Inever heard any one say it is haunted, there are haunting memoriesenough surrounding it for one to feel a ghastly recoil from invadingprecincts defiled by such a crime. So the kindly forest has taken itinto its protection, and Nature, who ever acts the generous part, hastried to throw the mantle of her foliage over the decaying roof, andabout the lonesome walls, accepting what man forsakes and sofulfilling her motherhood. I am still a resident in the town, and I have a family now that hasoutgrown the little cottage which the apple-tree once guarded. But itis not to tell of them or of myself that I have taken these pages fromtheir safe retreat to-day, but to speak of the sight which I saw thismorning when I passed through the churchyard, as I often do, to plucka rose from the bush which we lads planted on Juliet's grave twentyyears ago. They always seem sweeter to me than other roses, and I takea superstitious delight in them, in which my wife, strange to say, does not participate. But that is neither here nor there. The sight which I thought worth recording was this: I had come slowlythrough the yard, for the sunshine was brilliant and the month June, and sad as the spot is, it is strangely beautiful to one who lovesnature, when as I approached the corner where Juliet lies, and whichyou will remember was in the very spot where I once heard her take herreluctant oath, I saw crouched against her tomb a figure which seemedboth strange and vaguely familiar to me. Not being able to guess whoit was, as there is now nobody in town who remembers her with any moredevotion than myself, I advanced with sudden briskness, when theperson I was gazing upon rose, and turning towards me, looked withdeeply searching and most certainly very wretched eyes into mine. Ifelt a shock, first of surprise, and then of wildest recollection. Theman before me was the Colonel, and the grief apparent in his face anddisordered mien showed that years of absence had not done their work, and that he had never forgotten the arch and brilliant Juliet. Bowing humbly and with a most reverent obeisance, for he was still thegreat man of the county, though he had not been in our town for years, I asked his pardon for my intrusion, and then drew back to let himpass. But he stopped and gave me a keen look, and speaking my name, said: "You are married, are you not?" And when I bowed the meekacquiescence which the subject seemed to demand, he sighed as Ithought somewhat bitterly, and shrugging his shoulders, wentthoughtfully by and left me standing on the green sward alone. Butwhen he had reached the gate he turned again, and without raising hisvoice, though the distance between us was considerable, remarked: "Ihave come back to spend my remaining days in the village of my birth. If you care to talk of old times, come to the house at sunset. Youwill find me sitting on the porch. " Gratified more than I ever expected to be by a word from him, I bowedmy thanks and promised most heartily to come. And that was the end ofour first interview. It has left me with very lively sensations. Will they be increased ordiminished by the talk he has promised me? * * * * * I had a pleasant hour with the Colonel, but we did not talk of _her_. Had I expected to? I judge so by the faint but positive disappointmentwhich I feel. * * * * * I have been again to the Colonel's, but this time I did not find himin. "He is much out evenings, " explained the woman who keeps housefor him, "and you will have to come early to see him at his ownhearth. " * * * * * What is there about the Colonel that daunts me? He seems friendly, welcomes my company, and often hands me the hospitable glass. But I amnever easy in his presence, though the distance between us is not sogreat as it was in our young days, now that I have advanced in worldlyprosperity and he has stood still. Is it that his intellect cows me, or do I feel too much the secret melancholy which breathes through allhis actions, and frequently cuts short his words? I cannot answer; Iam daunted by him and I am fascinated, and after leaving him thinkonly of the time when I shall see him again. * * * * * The children, who have grown up since the Colonel has been gone, seemvery shy of him. I have noted them more than once shrink away from hispath, huddling and whispering in a corner, and quite forgetting toplay as long as his shadow fell across the green or the sound of hisfeet could be heard on the turf. I think they fear his melancholy, notunderstanding it. Or perhaps some hint of his sorrows has been giventhem, and it is awe they feel rather than fear. However that may be, no child ever takes his hand or prattles to him of its little joys orgriefs; and this in itself makes him look solitary, for we are muchgiven in this town to merry-making with our little ones, and it is acommon sight to see old and young together on the green, making sportwith ball or battledore. And it is not the children only who hold him in high but distantrespect. The best men here are contented with a courteous bow fromhim, while the women--matrons now, who once were blushingmaidens--think they have shown him enough honor if they make him adeep curtsey and utter a mild "Good-morrow. " The truth is, he invites nothing more. He talks to me because he musttalk to some one, but our conversation is always of things outside ofour village life, and never by any chance of the place or any one init. He lives at his father's house, now his, and has for his solecompanion an old servant of the family, who was once his nurse, andwho is, I believe, the only person in the world who is devotedlyattached to him. Unless it is myself. Sometimes I think I love him; sometimes I think Ido not. He fascinates me, and could make me do most anything hepleased, but have I a real affection for him? Almost; and this issomething which I consider strange. * * * * * Where does the Colonel go evenings? His old nurse has asked me, and Ifind I cannot answer. Not to the tavern, for I am often there; not tothe houses of the neighbors, for none of them profess to know him. Where then? Is the curiosity of my youth coming back to me? It looksvery much like it, Philo, very much like it. * * * * * My daughter said to me to-day: "Father, do not go any more to theColonel's. " And when I asked her why, she answered that her lover--shehas a _lover_, the minx--had told her that the Colonel held secrettalks with the witches, and though I laughed at this, it has set methinking. He goes to the forest at night, and roams for hours amongits shadows. Is this a healthy occupation for a man, especially a manwith a history? I shall go early to the Schuyler homestead to-nightand stay late, for these midnight communings with nature may be thesource of the hideous gloom which I have observed of late is growingupon his spirits. No other duty seems to me now greater than this, towin him back to a healthy realization of life, and the need there isof looking cheerfully upon such blessings as are left to our lot. * * * * * I went to the Colonel's at early candle-light, and I stayed till ten, a late hour for me, and, as I hoped, for him. When I left I caught asight of old Hannah, standing in a distant hallway, and I thought shelooked grateful; at all events, she came forward very quickly after mydeparture, for I heard the key turn in the lock of the great frontdoor before I had passed out of the gate. Why did I not go home? I had meant to, and there was every reason whyI should. But I had no sooner felt the turf under my feet and seen thestars over my head, than I began to wander in the very oppositedirection, and that without any very definite plan or purpose. I thinkI was troubled, and if not troubled, restless, and yet movement didnot seem to help me, for I grew more uneasy with every step I took, and began to look towards the woods to which I was half unconsciouslytending as if there I should find relief just as the Colonel, perhaps, was in the habit of doing. Was it a mere foolish freak which hadassailed me, or was I under some uncanny influence, caught from theplace where I had been visiting? I was yet asking myself this, when I heard distinctly through thesilence of the night the sound of a footstep behind me, and astonishedthat any one else should have been beguiled at this hour into a walkso dreary, I slipped into the shadow of a tree that stood at thewayside and waited till the slowly advancing figure should pass andleave me free to pursue my way or to go back unnoticed andundisturbed. I had not long to wait. In a moment a weirdly muffled form appearedabreast of me, and it was with difficulty I suppressed a cry, for itwas the Colonel I saw, escaped, doubtless, from his old nurse'ssurveillance, and as he passed he groaned, and the sad sound comingthrough the night at a time when my own spirits were in no comfortablemood affected me with almost a superstitious power, so that I trembledwhere I stood and knew not whether to follow him or go back and seekthe cheer of my own hearth. But I decided in another moment to followhim, and when he had withdrawn far enough up the road not to hear thesound of my footfalls, I stepped out from my retreat and went with himinto the woods. I have been as you know a midnight wanderer in that same place many atime in my life; but never did I leave the fields and meadows withsuch a foreboding dread, or step into the clustering shadows of theforest with such a shrinking and awe-struck heart. Yet I went onwithout a pause or an instant of hesitation, for I knew now where hewas going, and if he were going to the old stone house I wasdetermined to be his companion, or at least his watcher. For I knewnow that I loved him and could never see him come to ill. There was no moon at this time, but the sound of his steps guided meand when I had come into the open place where the stars shone I saw bythe movement which took place in the shadows lying around the opendoor of the old house, that he was near the fatal threshold and wouldin another moment be across it and within those mouldy halls. That Iwas right, another instant proved, for suddenly through the greathollow of the open portal a mild gleam broke and I saw he had lighteda lantern and was moving about within the empty rooms. Softly as man could go, I followed him. Crouching in the doorway, withear turned to the emptiness within, I listened. And as I did so, Ifelt the chill run through my blood and stiffen the hair on my head, for he was talking as he walked, and his tones were affable andpersuasive, as if two ghosts roamed noiselessly at his side and hewere showing them as in the days of yore, the beauties of his nearlycompleted home. "An ample parlor, you see, " came in distinct, suave monotone to myear. "Room enough for many a couple on gala nights, as even sweetMistress Juliet will say. Do you like this fireplace, and will therebe space enough here for the portrait which Lawrence has promised tomake of young Madam Day? I do not like too much light myself, so Ihave ordered curtains to be hung here. But if Mistress Juliet prefersthe sunshine, we will tell the men nay, for all is to be according toyour will, fair lady, as you must know, being here. Pardon me, thatwas an evil step; you should have a quick eye for such mishaps, friendOrrin, and not leave it to my courtesy to hold out a helping hand. Ah!you like this dusky nook. It was made for a sweet young bride to hidein when her heart's fulness demands quiet and rest. Do the trees cometoo near the lattice? If so they shall be trimmed away. And thisdining-parlor--Can you judge of it with the floor half laid and itswainscoting unnailed? I trow not, but you can trust me, pretty Juliet, you can trust me; and Orrin, too, need not speak, for me to know justhow to finish this study for him. Up-stairs? You do not wish to goup-stairs? Ah, then, you miss the very cream of the house. I haveworked with my own hand upon the rooms up-stairs, and there is alittle Cupid wrought into the woodwork of a certain door which Igreatly wish you to pass an opinion upon. I think the wings lackairiness, but the workmen swear it is as if he would fly from the doorat a whisper. Come, Mistress Juliet; come, friend Orrin, if I lead theway you need not hesitate. Come! come!" Was he alone? Were those eager steps of his unaccompanied, and shouldI not behold, if I looked within, the blooming face of Juliet and thefrowning brows of Orrin, crowding close behind him as he moved? Thefancy invoked by his words was so vivid, that for a moment I thought Ishould, and I never shall forget the thrill which seized me as Ileaned forward and peered for one minute into the hall and saw therehis solitary figure pausing on the lower step of the stairs, with thatbend of the body which bespeaks an obeisance which is half homage andhalf an invitation. He was still talking, and as he went up, he lookedback smiling and gossiping over his shoulder in a smooth and courtlyway which made it impossible for me to withdraw my fascinated eyes. "No banisters, sweet Juliet? Not yet--not yet; but Orrin will protectyou from falling. No harm can come to you while he is at your side. Doyou admire this sweep to the stairs? I saw a vision when I planned it, of a pretty woman coming down at the sound of her husband's step. Thestep has changed in sound to my imagination, but the pretty woman isprettier than ever, and will look her best as she comes down thesestairs. Oh, that is a window-ledge for flowers. A honeymoon is nothingwithout flowers, and you must have forget-me-nots and pansies heretill one cannot see from the window. You do not like such humbleflowers? Fie! Mistress Juliet, it is hard to believe that, --even Orrindoubts it, as I see by his chiding air. " Here the gentle and bantering tones ceased, for he had reached the topof the stair. But in another moment I heard them again as he passedfrom room to room, pausing here and pausing there, till suddenly hegave a cheerful laugh, spoke her name in most inviting accents, andstepped into _that_ room. Then as if roused into galvanic action, I rose and followed, going upthose midnight stairs and gaining the door where he had passed as ifthe impulse moving me had lent to my steps a certainty which preservedme from slipping even upon that dank and dangerous ascent. When inview of him again, I saw, as I had expected, that he was drawn up bythe window and was bowing and beckoning with even more grace andsuavity than he had shown below. "Will you not step out, MistressJuliet?" he was saying; "I have a plan which I am anxious to submit toyour judgment and which can only be decided upon from without. A highstep true, but Orrin has lifted you over worse places and--and youwill do me a great favor if only--" Here he gave a malignant shriek, and his countenance, from the most smiling and benignant expression, altered into that of a fiend from hell. "Ha, ha, ha!" he yelled. "Shegoes, and he is so fearful for her that he leaps after. That is agoodly stroke! Both--both--Crack! Ah, she looks at me, she looks--" Silence and then a frozen figure crouching before my eyes, just thesilence and just the figure I remembered seeing there twenty yearsbefore, only the face is older and the horror, if anything, greater. What did it mean? I tried to think, then as the full import of thescene burst upon me, and I realized that it was a murderer I waslooking upon, and that Orrin, poor Orrin, had been innocent, I sankback and fell upon the floor, lost in the darkness of an utterunconsciousness. I did not come to myself for hours; when I did I found myself alone inthe old house. * * * * * Nothing was ever done to the Colonel, for when I came to tell my storythe doctors said that the facts I related did not prove him to havebeen guilty of crime, as his condition was such that his own wordscould not be relied upon in a matter on which he had brooded more orless morbidly for years. So now when I see him pass through thechurchyard or up and down the village street and note that he isaffable as ever when he sees me, but growing more and more preoccupiedwith his own thoughts I do not know whether to look upon him withexecration or profoundest pity, nor can any man guide me or satisfy mymind as to whether I should blame his jealousy or Orrin's pride forthe pitiful tragedy which once darkened my life, and turned ourpleasant village into a desert. Of one thing only have I been made sure; that it was the Colonel wholit the brand which fired Orrin's cottage. A MEMORABLE NIGHT. CHAPTER I. I am a young physician of limited practice and great ambition. At thetime of the incidents I am about to relate, my office was in arespectable house in Twenty-fourth Street, New York City, and wasshared, greatly to my own pleasure and convenience, by a clever youngGerman whose acquaintance I had made in the hospital, and to whom Ihad become, in the one short year in which we had practised together, most unreasonably attached. I say unreasonably, because it was aliking for which I could not account even to myself, as he was neitherespecially prepossessing in appearance nor gifted with any too greatamiability of character. He was, however, a brilliant theorist and anunquestionably trustworthy practitioner, and for these reasonsprobably I entertained for him a profound respect, and as I havealready said a hearty and spontaneous affection. As our specialties were the same, and as, moreover, they were of anature which did not call for night-work, we usually spent the eveningtogether. But once I failed to join him at the office, and it is ofthis night I have to tell. I had been over to Orange, for my heart was sore over the quarrel Ihad had with Dora, and I was resolved to make one final effort towardsreconciliation. But alas for my hopes, she was not at home; and, whatwas worse, I soon learned that she was going to sail the next morningfor Europe. This news, coming as it did without warning, affected meseriously, for I knew if she escaped from my influence at this time, Ishould certainly lose her forever; for the gentleman concerning whomwe had quarrelled, was a much better match for her than I, and almostequally in love. However, her father, who had always been my friend, did not look upon this same gentleman's advantages with as favorablean eye as she did, and when he heard I was in the house, he camehurrying into my presence, with excitement written in every line ofhis fine face. "Ah, Dick, my boy, " he exclaimed joyfully, "how opportune this is! Iwas wishing you would come, for, do you know, Appleby has takenpassage on board the same steamer as Dora, and if he and she crosstogether, they will certainly come to an understanding, and that willnot be fair to you, or pleasing to me; and I do not care who knowsit!" I gave him one look and sank, quite overwhelmed, into the seat nearestme. Appleby was the name of my rival, and I quite agreed with herfather that the _tête-à-têtes_ afforded by an ocean voyage wouldsurely put an end to the hopes which I had so long and secretlycherished. "Does she know he is going? Did she encourage him?" I stammered. But the old man answered genially: "Oh, she knows, but I cannot sayanything positive about her having encouraged him. The fact is, Dick, she still holds a soft place in her heart for you, and if you weregoing to be of the party--" "Well?" "I think you would come off conqueror yet. " "Then I will be of the party, " I cried. "It is only six now, and I canbe in New York by seven. That gives me five hours before midnight, time enough in which to arrange my plans, see Richter, and makeeverything ready for sailing in the morning. " "Dick, you are a trump!" exclaimed the gratified father. "You have aspirit I like, and if Dora does not like it too, then I am mistaken inher good sense. But can you leave your patients?" "Just now I have but one patient who is in anything like a criticalcondition, " I replied, "and her case Richter understands almost aswell as I do myself. I will have to see her this evening of course andexplain, but there is time for that if I go now. The steamer sails atnine?" "Precisely. " "Do not tell Dora that I expect to be there; let her be surprised. Dear girl, she is quite well, I hope?" "Yes, very well; only going over with her aunt to do some shopping. Apoor outlook for a struggling physician, you think. Well, I don't knowabout that; she is just the kind of a girl to go from one extreme toanother. If she once loves you she will not care any longer aboutParis fashions. " "She shall love me, " I cried, and left him in a great hurry, to catchthe first train for Hoboken. It seemed wild, this scheme, but I determined to pursue it. I lovedDora too much to lose her, and if three weeks' absence would procureme the happiness of my life, why should I hesitate to avail myself ofthe proffered opportunity. I rode on air as the express I had takenshot from station to station, and by the time I had arrived atChristopher Street Ferry my plans were all laid and my time disposedof till midnight. It was therefore with no laggard step I hurried to my office, nor wasit with any ordinary feelings of impatience that I found Richter out;for this was not his usual hour for absenting himself and I had muchto tell him and many advices to give. It was the first balk I hadreceived and I was fuming over it, when I saw what looked like apackage of books lying on the table before me, and though it wasaddressed to my partner, I was about to take it up, when I heard myname uttered in a tremulous tone, and turning, saw a man standing inthe doorway, who, the moment I met his eye, advanced into the room andsaid: "O doctor, I have been waiting for you an hour. Mrs. Warner has beentaken very bad, sir, and she prays that you will not delay a momentbefore coming to her. It is something serious I fear, and she may havedied already, for she would have no one else but you, and it is now anhour since I left her. " "And who are you?" I asked, for though I knew Mrs. Warner well--she isthe patient to whom I have already referred--I did not know hermessenger. "I am a servant in the house where she was taken ill. " "Then she is not at home?" "No, sir, she is in Second Avenue. " "I am very sorry, " I began, "but I have not the time--" But he interrupted eagerly: "There is a carriage at the door; wethought you might not have your phaeton ready. " I had noticed the carriage. "Very well, " said I. "I will go, but first let me write a line--" "O sir, " the man broke in pleadingly, "do not wait for anything. Sheis really very bad, and I heard her calling for you as I ran out ofthe house. " "She had her voice then?" I ventured, somewhat distrustful of thewhole thing and yet not knowing how to refuse the man, especially asit was absolutely necessary for me to see Mrs. Warner that night andget her consent to my departure before I could think of making furtherplans. So, leaving word for Richter to be sure and wait for me if he camehome before I did, I signified to Mrs. Warner's messenger that I wasready to go with him, and immediately took a seat in the carriagewhich had been provided for me. The man at once jumped up on the boxbeside the driver, and before I could close the carriage door we wereoff, riding rapidly down Seventh Avenue. As we went the thought came, "What if Mrs. Warner will not let meoff!" But I dismissed the fear at once, for this patient of mine is anextremely unselfish woman, and if she were not too ill to grasp thesituation, would certainly sympathize with the strait I was in andconsent to accept Richter's services in place of my own, especially asshe knows and trusts him. When the carriage stopped it was already dark and I could distinguishlittle of the house I entered, save that it was large and old and didnot look like an establishment where a man servant would be likely tobe kept. "Is Mrs. Warner here?" I asked of the man who was slowly getting downfrom the box. "Yes, sir, " he answered quickly; and I was about to ring the bellbefore me, when the door opened and a young German girl, courtesyingslightly, welcomed me in, saying: "Mrs. Warner is up-stairs, sir; in the front room, if you please. " Not doubting her, but greatly astonished at the barren aspect of theplace I was in, I stumbled up the faintly lighted stairs before me andentered the great front room. It was empty, but through an open doorat the other end I heard a voice saying: "He has come, madam"; andanxious to see my patient, whose presence in this desolate house Ifound it harder and harder to understand, I stepped into the roomwhere she presumably lay. Alas! for my temerity in doing so; for no sooner had I crossed thethreshold than the door by which I had entered closed with a clickunlike any I had ever heard before, and when I turned to see what itmeant, another click came from the opposite side of the room, and Iperceived, with a benumbed sense of wonder, that the one person whosesomewhat shadowy figure I had encountered on entering had vanishedfrom the place, and that I was shut up alone in a room without visiblemeans of egress. This was startling, and hard to believe at first, but after I hadtried the door by which I had entered and found it securely locked, and then bounding to the other side of the room, tried the oppositeone with the same result, I could not but acknowledge I was caught. What did it mean? Caught, and I was in haste, mad haste. Filling theroom with my cries, I shouted for help and a quick release, but myefforts were naturally fruitless, and after exhausting myself in vainI stood still and surveyed, with what equanimity was left me, theappearance of the dreary place in which I had thus suddenly becomeentrapped. CHAPTER II. It was a small square room, and I shall not soon forget with what aforeboding shudder I observed that its four blank walls were literallyunbroken by a single window, for this told me that I was in nocommunication with the street, and that it would be impossible for meto summon help from the outside world. The single gas jet burning in afixture hanging from the ceiling was the only relief given to the eyein the blank expanse of white wall that surrounded me; while as tofurniture, the room could boast of nothing more than an old-fashionedblack-walnut table and two chairs, the latter cushioned, but stiff inthe back and generally dilapidated in appearance. The only sign ofcomfort about me was a tray that stood on the table, containing acouple of bottles of wine and two glasses. The bottles were full andthe glasses clean, and to add to this appearance of hospitality a boxof cigars rested invitingly near, which I could not fail to perceive, even at the first glance, were of the very best brand. Astonished at these tokens of consideration for my welfare, andconfounded by the prospect which they offered of a lengthy stay inthis place, I gave another great shout; but to no better purpose thanbefore. Not a voice answered, and not a stir was heard in the house. But there came from without the faint sound of suddenly moving wheels, as if the carriage which I had left standing before the door hadslowly rolled away. If this were so, then was I indeed a prisoner, while the moments so necessary to my plans, and perhaps to thesecuring of my whole future happiness, were flying by like the wind. As I realized this, and my own utter helplessness, I fell into one ofthe chairs before me in a state of perfect despair. Not that any fearsfor my life were disturbing me, though one in my situation might wellquestion if he would ever again breathe the open air from which he hadbeen so ingeniously lured. I did not in that first moment of utterdownheartedness so much as inquire the reason for the trick which hadbeen played upon me. No, my heart was full of Dora, and I was askingmyself if I were destined to lose her after all, and that through nolack of effort on my part, but just because a party of thieves orblackmailers had thought fit to play a game with my liberty. It could not be; there must be some mistake about it; it was somegreat joke, or I was the victim of a dream, or suffering from somehideous nightmare. Why, only a half hour before I was in my ownoffice, among my own familiar belongings, and now--But, alas, it wasno delusion. Only four blank, whitewashed walls met my inquiring eyes, and though I knocked and knocked again upon the two doors whichguarded me on either side, hollow echoes continued to be the onlyanswer I received. Had the carriage then taken away the two persons I had seen in thishouse, and was I indeed alone in its great emptiness? The thought mademe desperate, but notwithstanding this I was resolved to continue myefforts, for I might be mistaken; there might yet be some being leftwho would yield to my entreaties if they were backed by somethingsubstantial. Taking out my watch, I laid it on the table; it was just a quarter toeight. Then I emptied my trousers pockets of whatever money they held, and when all was heaped up before me, I could count but twelvedollars, which, together with my studs and a seal ring which I wore, seemed a paltry pittance with which to barter for the liberty of whichI had been robbed. But it was all I had with me, and I was willing topart with it at once if only some one would unlock the door and let mego. But how to make known my wishes even if there was any one tolisten to them? I had already called in vain, and there was nobell--yes, there was; why had I not seen it before? There was a belland I sprang to ring it. But just as my hand fell on the cord, I hearda gentle voice behind my back saying in good English, but with astrong foreign accent: "Put up your money, Mr. Atwater; we do not want your money, only yoursociety. Allow me to beg you to replace both watch and money. " Wheeling about in my double surprise at the presence of this intruderand his unexpected acquaintance with my name, I encountered thesmiling glance of a middle-aged man of genteel appearance andcourteous manners. He was bowing almost to the ground, and was, as Iinstantly detected, of German birth and education, a gentleman, andnot the blackleg I had every reason to expect to see. "You have made a slight mistake, " he was saying; "it is your society, only your society, that we want. " Astonished at his appearance, and exceedingly irritated by his words, I stepped back as he offered me my watch, and bluntly cried: "If it is my society only that you want, you have certainly taken verystrange means to procure it. A thief could have set no neater trap, and if it is money you want, state your sum and let me go, for my timeis valuable and my society likely to be unpleasant. " He gave a shrug with his shoulders that in no wise interfered with hisset smile. "You choose to be facetious, " he observed. "I have already remarkedthat we have no use for your money. Will you sit down? Here is someexcellent wine, and if this brand of cigars does not suit you, I willsend for another. " "Send for the devil!" I cried, greatly exasperated. "What do you meanby keeping me in this place against my will? Open that door and let meout, or--" I was ready to spring and he saw it. Smiling more atrociously thanever, he slipped behind the table, and before I could reach him, hadquietly drawn a pistol, which he cocked before my eyes. "You are excited, " he remarked, with a suavity that nearly drove memad. "Now excitement is no aid to good company, and I am determinedthat none but good company shall be in this room to-night. So if youwill be kind enough to calm yourself, Mr. Atwater, you and I may yetenjoy ourselves, but if not--" the action he made was significant, andI felt the cold sweat break out on my forehead through all the heat ofmy indignation. But I did not mean to show him that he had intimidated me. "Excuse me, " said I, "and put down your pistol. Though you are makingme lose irredeemable time, I will try and control myself enough togive you an opportunity for explaining yourself. Why have youentrapped me into this place?" "I have already told you, " said he, gently laying the pistol beforehim, but within easy reach of his hand. "But that is preposterous, " I began, fast losing my self-controlagain. "You do not know me, and if you did--" "Pardon me, you see I know your name. " Yes, that was true, and the fact set me thinking. How did he know myname? I did not know him, nor did I know this house, or any reason forwhich I could have been beguiled into it. Was I the victim of aconspiracy, or was the man mad? Looking at him very earnestly, Ideclared: "My name is Atwater, and so far you are right, but in learning thatmuch about me you must also have learned that I am neither rich norinfluential, nor of any special value to a blackmailer. Why choose meout then for--your society? Why not choose some one who can--talk?" "I find your conversation very interesting. " Baffled, exasperated almost beyond the power to restrain myself, Ishook my fist in his face, notwithstanding I saw his hand fly to hispistol. "Let me go!" I shrieked. "Let me go out of this place. I havebusiness, I tell you, important business which means everything to me, and which, if I do not attend to it to-night, will be lost to me forever. Let me go, and I will so far reward you that I will speak to noone of what has taken place here to-night, but go my ways, forgetfulof you, forgetful of this house, forgetful of all connected with it. " "You are very good, " was his quiet reply, "but this wine has to bedrunk. " And he calmly poured out a glass, while I drew back indespair. "You do not drink wine?" he queried, holding up the glass hehad filled between himself and the light. "It is a pity, for it is ofmost rare vintage. But perhaps you smoke?" Sick and disgusted, I found a chair, and sat down in it. If the manwere crazy, there was certainly method in his madness. Besides, hehad not a crazy eye; there was calm calculation in it and not a littlegood-nature. Did he simply want to detain me, and if so, did he have amotive it would pay me to fathom before I exerted myself further toinsure my release? Answering the wave he made me with his hand byreaching out for the bottle and filling myself a glass, I forcedmyself to speak more affably as I remarked: "If the wine must be drunk, we had better be about it, as you cannotmean to detain me more than an hour, whatever reason you may have forwishing my society. " He looked at me inquiringly before answering, then tossing off hisglass, he remarked: "I am sorry, but in an hour a man can scarcely make the acquaintanceof another man's exterior. " "Then you mean--" "To know you thoroughly, if you will be so good; I may never have theopportunity again. " He must be mad; nothing else but mania could account for such wordsand such actions; and yet, if mad, why was he allowed to enter mypresence? The man who brought me here, the woman who received me atthe door, had not been mad. "And I must stay here--" I began. "Till I am quite satisfied. I am afraid that will take till morning. " I gave a cry of despair, and then in my utter desperation spoke up tohim as I would to a man of feeling: "You don't know what you are doing; you don't know what I shall sufferby any such cruel detention. This night is not like other nights tome. This is a special night in my life, and I need it, I need it, Itell you, to spend as I will. The woman I love"--it seemed horrible tospeak of her in this place, but I was wild at my helplessness, andmadly hoped I might awake some answering chord in a breast which couldnot be void of all feeling or he would not have that benevolent lookin his eye--"the woman I love, " I repeated, "sails for Europeto-morrow. We have quarrelled, but she still cares for me, and if Ican sail on the same steamer, we will yet make up and be happy. " "At what time does this steamer start?" "At nine in the morning. " "Well, you shall leave this house at eight. If you go directly to thesteamer you will be in time. " "But--but, " I panted, "I have made no arrangements. I shall have to goto my lodgings, write letters, get money. I ought to be there at thismoment. Have you no mercy on a man who never did you wrong, and onlyasks to quit you and forget the precious hour you have made him lose?" "I am sorry, " he said, "it is certainly quite unfortunate, but thedoor will not be opened before eight. There is really no one in thehouse to unlock it. " "And do you mean to say, " I cried aghast, "that you could not openthat door if you would, that you are locked in here as well as I, andthat I must remain here till morning, no matter how I feel or youfeel?" "Will you not take a cigar?" he asked. Then I began to see how useless it was to struggle, and visions ofDora leaning on the steamer rail with that serpent whispering softentreaties in her ear came rushing before me, till I could have weptin my jealous chagrin. "It is cruel, base, devilish, " I began. "If you had the excuse ofwanting money, and took this method of wringing my all from me, Icould have patience, but to entrap and keep me here for nothing, whenmy whole future happiness is trembling in the balance, is the work ofa fiend and--" I made a sudden pause, for a strange idea had struckme. CHAPTER III. What if this man, these men and this woman, were in league with himwhose rivalry I feared, and whom I had intended to supplant on themorrow. It was a wild surmise, but was it any wilder than to believe Iwas held here for a mere whim, a freak, a joke, as this bowing, smiling man before me would have me believe? Rising in fresh excitement, I struck my hand on the table. "You wantto keep me from going on the steamer, " I cried. "That other wretch wholoves her has paid you--" But that other wretch could not know that I was meditating any suchunusual scheme, as following him without a full day's warning. Ithought of this even before I had finished my sentence, and did notneed the blank astonishment in the face of the man before me toconvince me that I had given utterance to a foolish accusation. "Itwould have been some sort of a motive for your actions, " I humblyadded, as I sank back from my hostile attitude; "now you have none. " I thought he bestowed upon me a look of quiet pity, but if so he soonhid it with his uplifted glass. "Forget the girl, " said he; "I know of a dozen just as pretty. " I was too indignant to answer. "Women are the bane of life, " he now sententiously exclaimed. "Theyare ever intruding themselves between a man and his comfort, as forinstance just now between yourself and this good wine. " I caught up the bottle in sheer desperation. "Don't talk of them, " I cried, "and I will try and drink. I almostwish there was poison in the glass. My death here might bringpunishment upon you. " He shook his head, totally unmoved by my passion. "We deal punishment, not receive it. It would not worry me in theleast to leave you lying here upon the floor. " I did not believe this, but I did not stop to weigh the questionthen; I was too much struck by a word he had used. "Deal punishment?" I repeated. "Are you punishing me? Is that why I amhere?" He laughed and held out his glass to mine. "You enjoy being sarcastic, " he observed. "Well, it gives a spice toconversation, I own. Talk is apt to be dull without it. " For reply I struck the glass from his hand; it fell and shivered, andhe looked for the moment really distressed. "I had rather you had struck me, " he remarked, "for I have an answerfor an injury like that; but for a broken glass--" He sighed andlooked dolefully at the pieces on the floor. Mortified and somewhat ashamed, I put down my own glass. "You should not have exasperated me, " I cried, and walked away beyondtemptation, to the other side of the room. His spirits had received a dampener, but in a few minutes he seizedupon a cigar and began smoking; as the wreaths curled over his head hebegan to talk, and this time it was on subjects totally foreign tomyself and even to himself. It was good talk; that I recognized, though I hardly listened to what he said. I was asking myself whattime it had now got to be, and what was the meaning of myincarceration, till my brain became weary and I could scarcelydistinguish the topic he discussed. But he kept on for all my seeming, and indeed real, indifference, kept on hour after hour in a monologuehe endeavored to make interesting, and which probably would have beenso if the time and occasion had been fit for my enjoying it. As itwas, I had no ear for his choicest phrases, his subtlest criticisms, or his most philosophic disquisitions. I was wrapped up in self and mycruel disappointment, and when in a certain access of frenzy I leapedto my feet and took a look at the watch still lying on the table, andsaw it was four o'clock in the morning, I gave a bound of finaldespair, and throwing myself on the floor, gave myself up to the heavysleep that mercifully came to relieve me. I was roused by feeling a touch on my breast. Clapping my hand to thespot where I had felt the intruding hand, I discovered that my watchhad been returned to my pocket. Drawing it out I first looked at itand then cast my eyes quickly about the room. There was no one withme, and the doors stood open between me and the hall. It was eighto'clock, as my watch had just told me. That I rushed from the house and took the shortest road to thesteamer, goes without saying. I could not cross the ocean with Dora, but I might yet see her and tell her how near I came to giving her mycompany on that long voyage which now would only serve to further theends of my rival. But when, after torturing delays on cars andferry-boats, and incredible efforts to pierce a throng that wasequally determined not to be pierced, I at last reached the wharf, itwas to behold her, just as I had fancied in my wildest moments, leaning on a rail of the ship and listening, while she abstractedlywaved her hand to some friends below, to the words of the man who hadnever looked so handsome to me or so odious as at this moment of hisunconscious triumph. Her father was near her, and from his eagerattitude and rapidly wandering gaze I saw that he was watching for me. At last he spied me struggling aboard, and immediately his facelighted up in a way which made me wish he had not thought it necessaryto wait for my anticipated meeting with his daughter. "Ah, Dick, you are late, " he began, effusively, as I put foot on deck. But I waved him back and went at once to Dora. "Forgive me, pardon me, " I incoherently said, as her sweet eyes rosein startled pleasure to mine. "I would have brought you flowers, but Imeant to sail with you, Dora, I tried to--but wretches, villains, prevented it and--and--" "Oh, it does not matter, " she said, and then blushed, probably becausethe words sounded unkind, "I mean--" But she could not say what she meant, for just then the bell rang forall visitors to leave, and her father came forward, evidently thinkingall was right between us, smiled benignantly in her face, gave her akiss and me a wink and disappeared in the crowd that was now rapidlygoing ashore. I felt that I must follow, but I gave her one look and one squeeze ofthe hand, and then as I saw her glances wander to his face, I groanedin spirit, stammered some words of choking sorrow and was gone, beforeher embarrassment would let her speak words, which I knew would onlyadd to my grief and make this hasty parting unendurable. The look of amazement and chagrin with which her father met myreappearance on the dock can easily be imagined. "Why, Dick, " he exclaimed, "aren't you going after all? I thought Icould rely on you. Where's your pluck, lad? Scared off by a frown? Iwouldn't have believed it, Dick. What if she does frown to-day; shewill smile to-morrow. " I shook my head; I could not tell him just then that it was notthrough any lack of pluck on my part that I had failed him. When I left the dock I went straight to a restaurant, for I was faintas well as miserable. But my cup of coffee choked me and the rolls andeggs were more than I could face. Rising impatiently, I went out. Wasany one more wretched than I that morning and could any one nourish amore bitter grievance? As I strode towards my lodgings I chewed thecud of my disappointment till my wrongs loomed up like mountains andI was seized by a spirit of revenge. Should I let such an interferenceas I had received go unpunished? No, if the wretch who had detained mewas not used to punishment he should receive a specimen of it now andfrom a man who was no longer a prisoner, and who once aroused did noteasily forego his purposes. Turning aside from my former destination, I went immediately to a police-station and when I had entered mycomplaint was astonished to see that all the officials had groupedabout me and were listening to my words with the most startledinterest. "Was the man who came for you a German?" one asked. I said "Yes. " "And the man who stood guardian over you and entertained you with wineand cigars, was not he a German too?" I nodded acquiescence and they at once began to whisper together; thenone of them advanced to me and said: "You have not been home, I understand; you had better come. " Astonished by his manner I endeavored to inquire what he meant, but hedrew me away, and not till we were within a stone's throw of my officedid he say, "You must prepare yourself for a shock. The impertinencesyou suffered from last night were unpleasant no doubt, but if you hadbeen allowed to return home, you might not now be deploring them incomparative peace and safety. " "What do you mean?" "That your partner was not as fortunate as yourself. Look up at thehouse; what do you see there?" A crowd was what I saw first, but he made me look higher, and then Iperceived that the windows of my room, of our room, were shattered andblackened and that part of the casement of one had been blown out. "A fire!" I shrieked. "Poor Richter was smoking--" "No, he was not smoking. He had no time for a smoke. An infernalmachine burst in that room last night and your friend was its wretchedvictim. " I never knew why my friend's life was made a sacrifice to the revengeof his fellow-countrymen. Though we had been intimate in the year wehad been together, he had never talked to me of his country and I hadnever seen him in company with one of his own nation. But that he wasthe victim of some political revenge was apparent, for though itproved impossible to find the man who had detained me, the house wasfound and ransacked, and amongst other secret things was discoveredthe model of the machine which had been introduced into our room, andwhich had proved so fatal to the man it was addressed to. Why men whowere so relentless in their purposes towards him should have takensuch pains to keep me from sharing his fate, is one of those anomaliesin human nature which now and then awake our astonishment. If I hadnot lost Dora through my detention at their hands I should look backupon that evening with sensations of thankfulness. As it is, Isometimes question if it would not have been better if they had let metake my chances. * * * * * Have I lost Dora? From a letter I received to-day I begin to thinknot. THE BLACK CROSS. A black cross had been set against Judge Hawkins' name; why, it is notfor me to say. We were not accustomed to explain our motives or togive reasons for our deeds. The deeds were enough, and this blackcross meant death; and when it had been shown us, all that we neededto know further was at what hour we should meet for the contemplatedraid. A word from the captain settled that; and when the next Friday came, adozen men met at the place of rendezvous, ready for the ride whichshould bring them to the Judge's solitary mansion across themountains. I was amongst them, and in as satisfactory a mood as I had ever beenin my life; for the night was favorable, and the men hearty and infirst-rate condition. But after we had started, and were threading a certain wood, I beganto have doubts. Feelings I had never before experienced assailed mewith a force that first perplexed and then astounded me. I was afraid, and what rather heightened than diminished the unwonted sensation, wasthe fact that I was not afraid of anything tangible, either in thepresent or future, but of something unexplainable and peculiar, which, if it lay in the skies, certainly made them look dark indeed; and ifit hid in the forest, caused its faintest murmur to seem like theutterance of a great dread, as awful as it was inexplicable. I nevertheless proceeded, and should have done so if the great streaksof lightning which now and then shot zigzag through the sky had takenthe shape of words and bid us all beware. I was not one to be daunted, and knew no other course than that of advance when once a stroke ofjustice had been planned, and the direction for its fulfilment markedout. I went on, but I began to think, and that to me was anexperience; for I had never been taught to reflect, only to fight andobey. The house towards which we were riding was built on a hillside, andthe first thing we saw on emerging from the forest, was a lightburning in one of its distant windows. This was a surprise; for thehour was late, and in that part of the country people were accustomedto retire early, even such busy men as the Judge. He must have avisitor, and a visitor meant a possible complication of affairs; so ahalt was called and I was singled out to reconnoitre the premises, andbring back word of what we had a right to expect. I started off in a strange state of mind. The fear I had spoken of hadleft me, but a vague shadow remained, through which, as through amist, I saw the light in that far away window beckoning me on to whatI felt was in some way to make an end of my present life. As I drewnearer to it, the feeling increased; then it, too, left me, and Ifound myself once more the daring avenger. This was when I came to thefoot of the hill and discovered I had but a few steps more to take. The house, which had now become plainly visible, was a solid one ofstone, built as I have said, on the hillside. It faced the road, aswas shown by the large portico, dimly to be discerned in thatdirection; but its rooms were mainly on the side, and it was from oneof these that the light shone. As I came yet nearer, I perceived thatthese rooms were guarded by a piazza, which, communicating with theportico in front, afforded an open road to that window and a clearsight of what lay behind it. I was instantly off my horse and upon the piazza, and before I had hadtime to realize that my fears had returned to me with double force, Ihad crept with stealthy steps towards that uncurtained window andlooked in. What did I see? At first nothing but a calm, studious figure, bendingabove a batch of closely written papers, upon which the light shonetoo brightly for me to perceive much of what lay beyond them. Butgradually an influence, of whose workings I was scarcely conscious, drew my eyes away, and I began to discover on every side strange andbeautiful objects which greatly interested me, until suddenly my eyesfell upon a vision of loveliness so enchanting that I forgot to lookelsewhere, and became for the moment nothing but sight and feeling. It was a picture, or so I thought in that first instant of awe anddelight. But presently I saw that it was a woman, living and full ofthe thoughts that had never been mine; and at the discovery a suddentrembling seized me; for I had never seen anything in heaven or earthlike her beauty, while she saw nothing but the man who was bendingover his papers. There was a door or something dark behind her, and against it her tallstrong figure, clad in a close white gown, stood out with adistinctness that was not altogether earthly. But it was her face thatheld me, and made of me from moment to moment a new man. For in it I discerned what I had never believed in till now, devotionthat had no limit, and love which asked nothing in return. She seemedto be faltering on the threshold of that room, like one who would liketo enter but does not dare, and in another moment, with a smile thatpierced me through and through, she turned as if to go. Instantly Iforgot everything but my despair, and leaned forward with animpetuosity that betrayed my presence, for she glanced quickly towardsthe window, and seeing me, turned pale, even while she rose in heighttill I felt myself shrink and grow small before her. Thrusting out her hand, she caught from the table before her whatlooked like a small dagger, and holding it up, advanced upon me withblazing eyes and parted lips, not seeing that the Judge had risen tohis feet, not seeing anything but my face glued against the pane, andstaring with an expression that must have struck her to the heart assurely as her look pierced mine. When she was almost upon me I turnedand fled. Hell could not have frightened me, but Heaven did; and forme that woman was Heaven whether she smiled or frowned, gazed uponanother with love, or raised a dagger to strike me to the ground. How soon I met my mates I cannot say. In a few minutes, doubtless, forthey had stolen after me and had detected me running away from thewindow. I was forced to tell my tale, and I told it unhesitatingly, for I knew I could not save him--if I wanted to--and I knew I shouldsave her or die in the attempt. "He is alone there with a girl, " I announced. "Whether she is his wifeor not I cannot say, but there is no cross against her name, and Iask that she be spared not only from sharing his fate, but from thesight of his death, for she loves him. " This from me! No wonder the captain stared, then laughed. But I didnot laugh in return, and being the strongest man in the band and thesurest with my rifle, he did not trifle long, but listened to my plansand in part consented to them, so that I retreated to my post at thegateway with something like confidence, while he, approaching thedoor, lifted the knocker and let it fall with a resounding clang thatmust have rung like a knell of death to the hearts within. For the Judge knew our errand. I saw it in his face when he rose tohis feet, and he had no hope, for we had never failed in our attempts, and the house, though strongly built, was easily assailable. * * * * * While the captain knocked, three men had scaled the portico and wereready to enter the open windows, if the Judge refused to appear oroffered any resistance to what was known as the captain's will. "Death to the Judge!" was the cry; and it was echoed not only at thedoor, but around the house, where the rest of the men had drawn acordon ready to waylay any one who sought to escape. Death to theJudge! And the Judge was loved by that woman and would be mourned byher till--But a voice is speaking, a voice from out that great house, and it asks what is wanted and what the meaning is of these threats ofdeath. And the captain answers short and sharp: "The Ku-Klux commands but never explains. What it commands now is forJudge Hawkins to come forth. If he shrinks or delays his house will beentered and burnt; but if he will come out and meet like a man whatawaits him, his house shall go free and his family remain unmolested. " "And what is it that awaits him?" pursued the voice. "Four bullets from four unerring rifles, " returned the captain. "It is well; he will come forth, " cried the voice, and then in ahuskier tone: "Let me kiss the woman I love. I will not keep youlong. " And the captain answered nothing, only counted out clearly andsteadily, "One--two--three, " up to a hundred, then he paused, turned, and lifted his hand; when instantly our four rifles rose, and at thesame moment the door, with a faint grating sound I shall never forget, slowly opened and the firm, unshrinking figure of the Judge appeared. We did not delay. One simultaneous burst of fire, one loud quickcrack, and his figure fell before our eyes. A sound, a cry fromwithin, then all was still, and the captain, mounting his horse, gaveone quick whistle and galloped away. We followed him, but I was thelast to mount, and did not follow long; for at the flash of those gunsI had seen a smile cross our victim's lip, and my heart was on fire, and I could not rest till I had found my way back to that open doorwayand the figure lying within it. There it was, and behind it a house empty as my heart has been sincethat day. A man's dress covering a woman's form--and over themotionless, perfect features, that same smile which I had seen in theroom beyond and again in the quick glare of the rifles. I had harbored no evil thought concerning her, but when I beheld thatsmile now sealed and fixed upon her lips, I found the soul I had neverknown I possessed until that day. A MYSTERIOUS CASE. It was a mystery to me, but not to the other doctors. They took, aswas natural, the worst possible view of the matter, and accepted theonly solution which the facts seem to warrant. But they are men, and Iam a woman; besides, I knew the nurse well, and I could not believeher capable of wilful deceit, much less of the heinous crime whichdeceit in this case involved. So to me the affair was a mystery. The facts were these: My patient, a young typewriter, seemingly without friends or enemies, lay in a small room of a boarding-house, afflicted with a painful butnot dangerous malady. Though she was comparatively helpless, her vitalorgans were strong, and we never had a moment's uneasiness concerningher, till one morning when we found her in an almost dying conditionfrom having taken, as we quickly discovered, a dose of poison, instead of the soothing mixture which had been left for her with thenurse. Poison! and no one, not even herself or the nurse, couldexplain how the same got into the room, much less into her medicine. And when I came to study the situation, I found myself as much at lossas they; indeed, more so; for I knew I had made no mistake inpreparing the mixture, and that, even if I had, this especial poisoncould not have found its way into it, owing to the fact that thereneither was nor ever had been a drop of it in my possession. The mixture, then, was pure when it left my hand, and, according tothe nurse, whom, as I have said, I implicitly believe, it went intothe glass pure. And yet when, two hours later, without her having leftthe room or anybody coming into it, she found occasion to administerthe draught, poison was in the cup, and the patient was only savedfrom death by the most immediate and energetic measures, not only onher part, but on that of Dr. Holmes, whom in her haste andperturbation she had called in from the adjacent house. The patient, young, innocent, unfortunate, but of a strangelycourageous disposition, betrayed nothing but the utmost surprise atthe peril she had so narrowly escaped. When Dr. Holmes intimated thatperhaps she had been tired of suffering, and had herself found meansof putting the deadly drug into her medicine, she opened her greatgray eyes, with such a look of child-like surprise and reproach, thathe blushed, and murmured some sort of apology. "Poison myself?" she cried, "when you promise me that I shall getwell? You do not know what a horror I have of dying in debt, or youwould never say that. " This was some time after the critical moment had passed, and therewere in the room Mrs. Dayton, the landlady, Dr. Holmes, the nurse, andmyself. At the utterance of these words we all felt ashamed and castlooks of increased interest at the poor girl. She was very lovely. Though without means, and to all appearancewithout friends, she possessed in great degree the charm ofwinsomeness, and not even her many sufferings, nor the indignationunder which she was then laboring, could quite rob her countenance ofthat tender and confiding expression which so often redeems theplainest face and makes beauty doubly attractive. "Dr. Holmes does not know you, " I hastened to say; "I do, and utterlyrepel for you any such insinuation. In return, will you tell me ifthere is any one in the world whom you can call your enemy? Though thechief mystery is how so deadly and unusual a poison could have gotteninto a clean glass, without the knowledge of yourself or the nurse, still it might not be amiss to know if there is any one, here orelsewhere, who for any reason might desire your death. " The surprise in the child-like eyes increased rather than diminished. "I don't know what to say, " she murmured. "I am so insignificant andfeeble a person that it seems absurd for me to talk of having anenemy. Besides, I have none. On the contrary, every one seems to loveme more than I deserve. Haven't you noticed it, Mrs. Dayton?" The landlady smiled and stroked the sick girl's hand. "Indeed, " she replied, "I have noticed that people love you, but Ihave never thought that it was more than you deserved. You are a dearlittle thing, Addie. " And though she knew and I knew that the "every one" mentioned by thepoor girl meant ourselves, and possibly her unknown employer, we werenone the less touched by her words. The more we studied the mystery, the deeper and less explainable did it become. And indeed I doubt if we should have ever got to the bottom of it, ifthere had not presently occurred in my patient a repetition of thesame dangerous symptoms, followed by the same discovery, of poison inthe glass, and the same failure on the part of herself and nurse toaccount for it. I was aroused from my bed at midnight to attend her, and as I entered her room and met her beseeching eyes looking upon mefrom the very shadow of death, I made a vow that I would never ceasemy efforts till I had penetrated the secret of what certainly lookedlike a persistent attempt upon this poor girl's life. I went about the matter deliberately. As soon as I could leave herside, I drew the nurse into a corner and again questioned her. Theanswers were the same as before. Addie had shown distress as soon asshe had swallowed her usual quantity of medicine, and in a few minutesmore was in a perilous condition. "Did you hand the glass yourself to Addie?" "I did. " "Where did you take it from?" "From the place where you left it--the little stand on the fartherside of the bed. " "And do you mean to say that you had not touched it since I preparedit?" "I do, ma'am. " "And that no one else has been in the room?" "No one, ma'am. " I looked at her intently. I trusted her, but the best of us are butmortal. "Can you assure me that you have not been asleep during this time?" "Look at this letter I have been writing, " she returned. "It is eightpages long, and it was not begun when you left us at 10 o'clock. " I shook my head and fell into a deep revery. How was that matter to beelucidated, and how was my patient to be saved? Another draught ofthis deadly poison, and no power on earth could resuscitate her. Whatshould I do, and with what weapons should I combat a danger at once sosubtle and so deadly? Reflection brought no decision, and I left theroom at last, determined upon but one point, and that was theimmediate removal of my patient. But before I had left the house Ichanged my mind even on this point. Removal of the patient meantsafety to her, perhaps, but not the explanation of her mysteriouspoisoning. I would change the position of her bed, and I would evenset a watch over her and the nurse, but I would not take her out ofthe house--not yet. And what had produced this change in my plans? The look of a womanwhom I met on the stairs. I did not know her, but when I encounteredher glance I felt that there was some connection between us, and I wasnot at all surprised to hear her ask: "And how is Miss Wilcox to-day?" "Miss Wilcox is very low, " I returned. "The least neglect, the leastshock to her nerves, would be sufficient to make all my effortsuseless. Otherwise--" "She will get well?" I nodded. I had exaggerated the condition of the sufferer, but somesecret instinct compelled me to do so. The look which passed over thewoman's face satisfied me that I had done well; and, though I left thehouse, it was with the intention of speedily returning and makinginquiries into the woman's character and position in the household. I learned little or nothing. That she occupied a good room and paidfor it regularly seemed to be sufficient to satisfy Mrs. Dayton. Hername, which proved to be Leroux, showed her to be French, and herpromptly paid $10 a week showed her to be respectable--what more couldany hard-working landlady require? But I was distrustful. Her face, though handsome, possessed an eager, ferocious look which I could notforget, and the slight gesture with which she had passed me at theclose of the short conversation I have given above had a suggestion oftriumph in it which seemed to contain whole volumes of secret andmysterious hate. I went into Miss Wilcox's room very thoughtful. "I am going--" But here the nurse held up her hand. "Hark, " she whispered; she hadjust set the clock, and was listening to its striking. I did hark, but not to the clock. "Whose step is that?" I asked, after she had left the clock, and satdown. "Oh, some one in the next room. The walls here are very thin--onlyboards in places. " I did not complete what I had begun to say. If I could hear stepsthrough the partition, then could our neighbors hear us talk, and whatI had determined upon must be kept secret from all outsiders. I drew asheet of paper toward me and wrote: "I shall stay here to-night. Something tells me that in doing this Ishall solve this mystery. But I must appear to go. Take myinstructions as usual, and bid me good-night. Lock the door after me, but with a turn of the key instantly unlock it again. I shall go downstairs, see that my carriage drives away, and quietly return. On myre-entrance I shall expect to find Miss Wilcox on the couch with thescreen drawn up around it, you in your big chair, and the lightlowered. What I do thereafter need not concern you. Pretend to go tosleep. " The nurse nodded, and immediately entered upon the programme I hadplanned. I prepared the medicine as usual, placed it in its usualglass, and laid that glass where it had always been set, on a smalltable at the farther side of the bed. Then I said "Good-night, " andpassed hurriedly out. I was fortunate enough to meet no one, going or coming. I regained theroom, pushed open the door, and finding everything in order, proceededat once to the bed, upon which, after taking off my hat and cloak andcarefully concealing them, I lay down and deftly covered myself up. My idea was this--that by some mesmeric influence of which she wasignorant, the nurse had been forced to either poison the glass herselfor open the door for another to do it. If this were so, she or theother person would be obliged to pass around the foot of the bed inorder to reach the glass, and I should be sure to see it, for I didnot pretend to sleep. By the low light enough could be discerned forsafe movement about the room, and not enough to make apparent thechange which had been made in the occupant of the bed. I waited withindescribable anxiety, and more than once fancied I heard steps, ifnot a feverish breathing close to my bed-head; but no one appeared, and the nurse in her big chair did not move. At last I grew weary, and fearful of losing control over my eyelids, Ifixed my gaze upon the glass, as if in so doing I should find atalisman to keep me awake, when, great God! what was it I saw! A hand, a creeping hand coming from nowhere and joined to nothing, closingabout that glass and drawing it slowly away till it disappearedentirely from before my eyes! I gasped--I could not help it--but I did not stir. For now I knew Iwas asleep and dreaming. But no, I pinch myself under the clothes, andfind that I am very wide awake indeed; and then--look! look! the glassis returning; the hand--a woman's hand--is slowly setting it back inits place, and-- With a bound I have that hand in my grasp. It is a living hand, and itis very warm and strong and fierce, and the glass has fallen and liesshattered between us, and a double cry is heard, one from behind thepartition, through an opening in which this hand had been thrust, andone from the nurse, who has jumped to her feet and is even nowassisting me in holding the struggling member, upon which I havemanaged to scratch a tell-tale mark with a piece of the fallen glass. At sight of the iron-like grip which this latter lays upon theintruding member, I at once release my own grasp. "Hold on, " I cried, and leaping from the bed, I hastened first to mypatient, whom I carefully reassured, and then into the hall, where Ifound the landlady running to see what was the matter. "I have foundthe wretch, " I cried, and drawing her after me, hurried about to theother side of the partition, where I found a closet, and in it thewoman I had met on the stairs, but glaring now like a tiger in herrage, menace, and fear. That woman was my humble little patient's bitter but unknown enemy. Enamoured of a man who--unwisely, perhaps--had expressed in herhearing his admiration for the pretty typewriter, she had conceivedthe idea that he intended to marry the latter, and, vowing vengeance, had taken up her abode in the same house with the innocent girl, where, had it not been for the fortunate circumstance of my meetingher on the stairs, she would certainly have carried out her scheme ofvile and secret murder. The poison she had bought in another city, andthe hole in the partition she had herself cut. This had been done atfirst for the purpose of observation, she having detected in passingby Miss Wilcox's open door that a banner of painted silk hung overthat portion of the wall in such a way as to hide any aperture whichmight be made there. Afterward, when Miss Wilcox fell sick, and she discovered by shortglimpses through her loop-hole that the glass of medicine was placedon a table just under this banner, she could not resist the temptationto enlarge the hole to a size sufficient to admit the pushing aside ofthe banner and the reaching through of her murderous hand. Why she didnot put poison enough in the glass to kill Miss Wilcox at once I havenever discovered. Probably she feared detection. That by doing as shedid she brought about the very event she had endeavored to avert, isthe most pleasing part of the tale. When the gentleman of whom I havespoken learned of the wicked attempt which had been made upon MissWilcox's life, his heart took pity upon her, and a marriage ensued, which I have every reason to believe is a happy one. SHALL HE WED HER? When I met Taylor at the Club the other night, he looked so cheerful Iscarcely knew him. "What is it?" cried I, advancing with outstretched hand. "I am going to be married, " was his gay reply. "This is my last nightat the Club. " I was glad, and showed it. Taylor is a man for whom domestic life is anecessity. He has never been at home with us, though we all liked him, and he in his way liked us. "And who is the fortunate lady?" I inquired; for I had been out oftown for some time, and had not as yet been made acquainted with thelatest society news. "My intended bride is Mrs. Walworth, the young widow--" He must have seen a change take place in my expression, for hestopped. "You know her, of course?" he added, after a careful study of my face. I had by this time regained my self-possession. "Of course, " I repeated, "and I have always thought her one of themost attractive women in the city. Another shake upon it, old man. " But my heart was heavy and my mind perplexed notwithstanding theforced cordiality of my tones, and I took an early opportunity towithdraw by myself and think over the situation. Mrs. Walworth? She is a pretty woman, and what is more, she is to allappearance a woman whose winning manners bespeak a kindly heart. "Justthe person, " I contemplated, "whom I would pick out for the helpmateof my somewhat exacting friend, if--" I paused on that if. It was aformidable one and grew none the smaller or less important under mybroodings. Indeed, it seemed to dilate until it assumed giganticproportions, worrying me and weighing so heavily upon my consciencethat I at last rose from the newspaper at which I had been hopelesslystaring, and looking up Taylor again asked him how soon he expected tobecome a benedict. His answer startled me. "In a week, " he replied, "and if I have notasked you to the ceremony it is because Helen is not in a positionto--" I suppose he finished the sentence, but I did not hear him. If themarriage was so near, of course it would be folly on my part toattempt to hinder it. I drew off for the second time. But I could not remain easy. Taylor is a good fellow, and it would bea shame to allow him to marry a woman with whom he could never behappy. He would feel any such disappointment so keenly, so much morekeenly than most men. A lack of principle or even of sensibility onher part would make him miserable. Anticipating heaven, he would notneed a hell to make him wretched; a purgatory would do it. Was I rightthen in letting him proceed in his intentions regarding Mrs. Walworth, when she possibly was the woman who--I paused and tried to call upher countenance before me. It was a sweet one and possibly a trueone. I might have trusted her for myself, but I do not look forperfection, and Taylor does, and will certainly go to the bad if he isdeceived in his expectations. But in a week! It is too late forinterference--only it is never too late till the knot is tied. As Ithought of this, I decided impulsively, and perhaps you may sayunwisely, to give him a hint of his danger, and I did it in this wise: "Taylor, " said I, when I had him safely in my own rooms, "I am goingto tell you a bit of personal history, curious enough, I think, tointerest you even upon the eve of your marriage. I do not know when Ishall see you again, and I should like you to know how a lawyer andman of the world can sometimes be taken in. " He nodded, accepting the situation good-humoredly, though I saw by theabstraction with which he gazed into the fire that I should have to bevery interesting to lure him from the thoughts that engrossed him. AsI meant to be very interesting, this did not greatly concern me. "One morning last spring, " I began, "I received in my morning mail aletter, the delicate penmanship of which at once attracted myattention and awakened my curiosity. Turning to the signature, I readthe name of a young lady friend of mine, and somewhat startled at thethought that this was the first time I had ever seen the handwritingof one I knew so well, I perused the letter with an interest thatpresently became painful as I realized the tenor of its contents. Iwill not quote the letter, though I could, but confine myself tosaying that after a modest recognition of my friendship for her--quitea fatherly friendship, I assure you, as she is only eighteen, and I, as you know, am well on towards fifty--she proceeded to ask in ahumble and confiding spirit for the loan--do not start--of fiftydollars. Such a request coming from a young girl well connected andwith every visible sign of being generously provided for by herfather, was certainly startling to an old bachelor of settled ways andstrict notions, but remembering her youth and the childish innocenceof her manner, I turned over the page and read as her reason forproffering such a request, that her heart was set upon aiding acertain poor family that stood in immediate need of food, clothes, andmedicines, but that she could not do what she wished, because she hadalready spent all the money allowed her by her father for suchpurposes and dared not go to him for more, as she had once beforeoffended him by doing this, and feared if she repeated her fault hewould carry out the threat he had then made of stopping her allowancealtogether. But the family was a deserving one and she could not seeany member of it starve, so she came to me, of whose goodness she wasassured, convinced I would understand her perplexity and excuse her, and so forth and so forth, in language quite child-like andentreating, which, if it did not satisfy my ideas of propriety, atleast touched my heart and made any action which I could take in thematter extremely difficult. "To refuse her request would be at once to mortify and aggrieve her;to accede to it and give her the fifty dollars she asked--a sum by theway I could not well spare--would be to encourage an action easilypardoned once, but which if repeated would lead to unpleasantcomplications, to say the least. The third course, of informing herfather of what she needed, I did not even consider, for I knew himwell enough to be sure that nothing but pain to her would be theresult. I therefore compromised the affair by inclosing the money in aletter, in which I told her that I comprehended her difficulty andsent with pleasure the amount she needed, but that as a friend I mustadd that while in the present instance she had run no risk of beingmisunderstood or unkindly censured, that such a request made toanother man and under other circumstances might provoke a surprisecapable of leading to the most unpleasant consequences, and advisedher if she ever again found herself in such a strait to appealdirectly to her father, or else to deny herself a charity which shewas in no position to bestow. "This letter I undertook to deliver myself, for one of the curiouspoints of her communication had been the entreaty that I would notdelay the help she needed by trusting the money to any hand but myown, but would bring it to a certain hotel down-town and place it atthe beginning of the book of Isaiah in the large Bible I would findlying on a side table in the small parlor off the main one. She wouldseek it there before the morning was over, and so, without theintervention of a third party, acquire the means she desired forhelping a poor and deserving family. "I knew the hotel she mentioned, and I remembered the room, but I didnot remember the Bible. However, it was sure to be in the place sheindicated; and though I was not in much sympathy with my errand, Irespected her whim and carried the letter down-town. I had reachedMain Street and was in sight of the hotel designated, when suddenly onthe opposite corner of the street I saw the young girl herself. Shelooked as fresh as the morning, and smiled so gayly I felt somewhatrepaid for the annoyance she had caused me, and gratified that I couldcut matters short by putting the letter directly in her hand, Icrossed the street to her side. As soon as we were face to face, Isaid: "'How fortunate I am to meet you. Here is the amount you need sealedup in this letter. You see I had it all ready. ' "The face she lifted to mine wore so blank a look that I paused, astonished. "'What do you mean?' she asked, her eyes looking straight into minewith such innocence in their clear blue depths, I was at onceconvinced she knew nothing of the matter with which my thoughts werebusy. 'I am very glad to see you, but I do not in the least understandwhat you mean by the amount I need. ' And she glanced at the letter Iheld out, with an air of distrust mingled with curiosity. "'You cut me short in my efforts to do a charitable action. I heard, no matter how, that you were interested just now in a destitutefamily, and took this way of assisting you in their behalf. ' "Her blue eyes opened wider. 'The poor are always with us, ' shereplied, 'but I know of no especial family just now that requires anysuch help as you intimate. If I did, papa would give me whatassistance I needed. ' "I was greatly pleased to hear her say this, for I am very fond of myyoung friend, but I was deeply indignant also against the unknownperson who had taken advantage of my regard for this young girl toforce money from me. I therefore did not linger at her side, but afterdue apologies hastened immediately here where there is a man employedwho to my knowledge had once been a trusted member of the police. "Telling him no more of the story than was necessary to ensure hisco-operation in the plan I had formed to discover the author of thisfraud, I extracted the bank-notes from the letter I had written, andput in their place stiff pieces of manila paper. Taking the envelopeso filled to the hotel already referred to, I placed it at the openingchapters of Isaiah in the Bible, as described. There was no one in anyof the rooms when I went in, and I encountered only a bell-boy as Icame out, but at the door I ran against a young man whom I strictlyforbore to recognize, but whom I knew to be my improvised detectivecoming to take his stand in some place where he could watch the parlorand note who went into it. "At noon I returned to the hotel, passed immediately to the smallparlor and looked into the Bible. The letter was gone. Coming out ofthe room, I was at once joined by my detective. "'Has the letter been taken?' he eagerly inquired. "I nodded. "His brows wrinkled and he looked both troubled and perplexed. "'I don't understand it, ' he remarked. 'I've seen every one who hasgone into that room since you left it, but I do not know any more thanbefore who took the letter. You see, ' he continued, as I looked at himsharply, 'I had to remain out here. If I had gone even into the largeroom, the Bible would not have been disturbed, nor the letter either. So, in the hope of knowing the rogue at sight, I strolled about thishall, and kept my eye constantly on that door, but--' "He looked embarrassed, and stopped. 'You say the letter is gone, ' hesuggested, after a moment. "'Yes, ' I returned. "He shook his head. 'Nobody went into that room or came out of it, ' hewent on, 'whom you would have wished me to follow. I should havethought myself losing time if I had taken one step after any one ofthem. ' "'But who did go into that room?' I urged, impatient at hisperplexity. "'Only three persons this morning, ' he returned. 'You know them all. 'And he mentioned first Mrs. Couldock. " Taylor, who was lending me the superficial attention of a preoccupiedman, smiled frankly at the utterance of this name. "Of course, she hadnothing to do with such a debasing piece of business, " he observed. "Of course not, " I repeated. "Nor does it seem likely that Miss Dawescould have been concerned in it. Yet my detective told me that she wasthe next person who went into the parlor. " "I do not know Miss Dawes so well, " remarked Taylor, carelessly. "But I do, " said I; "and I would as soon suspect my sister of adishonorable act as this noble, self-sacrificing woman. " "The third person?" suggested Taylor. I got up and crossed the floor. When my back was to him, I said, quietly--"was Mrs. Walworth. " The silence that followed was very painful. I did not care to breakit, and he, doubtless, found himself unable to do so. It must havebeen five minutes before either of us spoke; then he suddenly cried: "Where is that detective, as you call him? I want to see him. " "Let me see him for you, " said I. "I should hardly wish Sudley, discreet as I consider him, to know you had any interest in thisaffair. " Taylor rose and came to where I stood. "You believe, " said he, "that she, the woman I am about to marry, isthe one who wrote you that infamous letter?" I faced him quite frankly. "I do not feel ready to acknowledge that, "I replied. "One of those three women took my letter out from theBible, where I placed it; which of them wrote the lines that provokedit I do not dare conjecture. You say it was not Mrs. Couldock, I sayit was not Miss Dawes, but--" He broke in upon me impetuously. "Have you the letter?" he asked. I had, and showed it to him. "It is not Helen's handwriting, " he said. "Nor is it that of Mrs. Couldock or Miss Dawes. " He looked at me for a moment in a wild sort of way. "You think she got some one to write it for her?" he cried. "Helen! myHelen! But it is not so; it cannot be so. Why, Huntley, to have sentsuch a letter as that over the name of an innocent young girl, who, but for the happy chance of meeting you as she did might never havehad the opportunity of righting herself in your estimation, argues acold and calculating selfishness closely allied to depravity. And myHelen is an angel--or so I have always thought her. " The depth to which his voice sank in the last sentence showed that forall his seeming confidence he was not without his doubts. I began to feel very uncomfortable, and not knowing what consolationto offer, I ventured upon the suggestion that he should see Mrs. Walworth and frankly ask her whether she had been to the hotel on MainStreet on such a day, and if so, if she had seen a letter addressedto Miss N---- lying on the table of the small parlor. His answershowed how much his confidence in her had been shaken. "A woman who, for the sake of paying some unworthy debt or ofgratifying some whim of feminine vanity, could make use of a younggirl's signature to obtain money, would not hesitate at any denial. She would not even blench at my questions. " He was right. "I must be convinced in some other way, " he went on. "Mrs. Couldock orMiss Dawes do not either of them possess any more truthful oringenuous countenance than she does, and though it seems madness tosuspect such women--" "Wait, " I broke in. "Let us be sure of all the facts before we go on. You lie down here and close your eyes; now pull the rug up so. I willhave Sudley in and question him. If you do not turn towards the lighthe will not know who you are. " Taylor followed my suggestion, and in a few moments Sudley stoodbefore me. I opened upon him quite carelessly. "Sudley, " said I, throwing down the newspaper I had been ostensiblyreading, "you remember that little business you did for me in MainStreet last month? Something I've been reading made me think of itagain. " "Yes, sir. " "Have you never had a conviction yourself as to which of the threeladies you saw go into the parlor took the letter I left hid in theBible?" "No, sir. You see I could not. All of them are well known in societyhere and all of them belong to the most respectable families. Iwouldn't dare to choose between them, sir. " "Certainly not, " I rejoined, "unless you have some good reason fordoing so, such as having been able to account for the visits of two ofthe ladies to the hotel, and not of the third. " "They all had a good pretext for being there. Mrs. Couldock gave hercard to the boy before going into the parlor, and left as soon as hereturned with word that the lady she called to see was not in. MissDawes gave no card, but asked for a Miss Terhune, I think, and didnot remain a moment after she was informed that that lady had left thehotel. " "And Mrs. Walworth?" "She came in from the street adjusting her veil, and upon lookingaround for a mirror was directed to the parlor, into which she at oncestepped. She remained there but a moment, and when she came out passeddirectly into the street. " These words disconcerted me; the mirror was just over the table in thesmall room, but I managed to remark nonchalantly: "Could you not tell whether any of these three ladies opened theBible?" "Not without seeming intrusive. " I sighed and dismissed the man. When he was gone I approached Taylor. "He can give us no assistance, " I cried. My friend was already on his feet, looking very miserable. "I know of only one thing to do, " he remarked. "To-morrow I shall callupon Mrs. Couldock and Miss Dawes, and entreat them to tell me if, forany reason, they undertook to deliver a letter mysteriously left inthe Bible of the ---- Hotel one day last month. They may have beendeputed to do so, and be quite willing to acknowledge it. " "And Mrs. Walworth? Will you not ask her the same question?" He shook his head and turned away. "Very well, " said I to myself, "then I will. " Accordingly the next day I called upon Mrs. Walworth. Taking her by the hand, I gently forced her to stand for a momentwhere the light from the one window fell full upon her face. I said: "You must pardon my intrusion upon you at a time when you arenaturally so busy, but there is something you can do for me that willrid me of a great anxiety. You remember being in ---- Hotel onemorning last month?" She was looking quietly up at me, her lips parted, her eyes smilingand expectant, but at the mention of that hotel I thought--and yet Imay have been mistaken--that a slight change took place in herexpression, if it was only that the glance grew more gentle and thesmile more marked. But her voice when she answered was the same as that with which shehad uttered her greeting. "I do not remember, " she replied, "yet I may have been there; I go toso many places. Why do you ask?" she inquired. "Because if you were there on that morning--and I have been told youwere--you may be able to solve a question that is greatly perplexingme. " Still the same gentle, inquiring look on her face; only now there wasa little furrow of wonder or interest between the eyes. "I had business in that hotel on that morning, " I continued. "I hadleft a letter for a young friend of mine in the Bible that lies on thesmall table of the inner parlor, and as she never received it I havebeen driven into making all kinds of inquiries in the hope of findingsome explanation of the fact. As you were there at the time you mayhave seen something that would aid me. Is it not possible, Mrs. Walworth?" Her smile, which had faded, reappeared. On the lips which Taylor somuch admired a little pout became visible, and she looked quiteenchanting. "I do not even remember being at that hotel at all, " she protested. "Did Mr. Taylor say I was there?" she inquired, with just that addedlook of exquisite näivete which the utterance of a lover's name shouldcall up on the face of a prospective bride. "No, " I answered gravely; "Mr. Taylor, unhappily, was not with youthat morning. " She looked startled. "Unhappily, " she repeated. "What do you mean by that word?" And shedrew back looking very much displeased. I had expected this, and so was not thrown off my guard. "I mean, " I proceeded calmly, "that if you had had such a companionwith you on that morning I should now be able to put my questions tohim, instead of taking your time and interrupting your affairs by myimportunities. " "You will tell me just what you mean, " said she, earnestly. I was equally emphatic in my reply. "That is only just. You ought toknow why I trouble you with this matter. It is because this letter ofwhich I speak was taken from its hiding-place by some one who wentinto the hotel parlor between the hours of 10:30 and 12 o'clock, andas to my certain knowledge only three persons crossed its threshold onthat especial morning at that especial time, I naturally appeal toeach of them in turn for an answer to the problem that is troublingme. You know Miss N----. Seeing by accident a letter addressed to herlying in a Bible in a strange hotel, you might have thought it yourduty to take it out and carry it to her. If you did and if you lostit--" "But I didn't, " she interrupted, warmly. "I know nothing about anysuch letter, and if you had not declared so positively that I was inthat hotel on that especial day I should be tempted to deny that too, for I have no recollection of going there last month. " "Not for the purpose of rearranging a veil that had been blown off?" "Oh!" she said, but as one who recalls a forgotten fact, not as onewho is tripped up in an evasion. I began to think her innocent, and lost some of the gloom which hadbeen oppressing me. "You remember now?" said I. "Oh, yes, I remember that. " Her manner so completely declared that her acknowledgments stoppedthere, I saw it would be useless to venture further. If she wereinnocent she could not tell more, if she were guilty she would not;so, feeling that the inclination of my belief was in favor of theformer hypothesis, I again took her hand, and said: "I see that you can give me no help. I am sorry, for the wholehappiness of a man, and perhaps that of a woman also, depends upon thediscovery as to who took the letter from out the Bible where I hadhidden it on that unfortunate morning. " And, making her another lowbow, I was about to take my departure, when she grasped me impulsivelyby the arm. "What man?" she whispered; and in a lower tone still, "What woman?" I turned and looked at her. "Great heaven!" thought I, "can such aface hide a selfish and intriguing heart?" and in a flash I summonedup in comparison before me the plain, honest, and reliable countenanceof Mrs. Couldock and that of the comely and unpretending Miss Dawes, and knew not what to think. "You do not mean yourself?" she continued, as she met my look ofdistress. "No, " I returned; "happily for me my welfare is not bound up in thehonor of any woman. " And leaving that shaft to work its way into herheart, if that heart were vulnerable, I took my leave, more troubledand less decided than when I entered. For her manner had been absolutely that of a woman surprised byinsinuations she was too innocent to rate at their real importance. And yet, if she did not take away that letter, who did? Mrs. Couldock?Impossible. Miss Dawes? The thought was untenable, even for aninstant. I waited in great depression of spirits for the call I knewTaylor would not fail to make that evening. When he came I saw what the result of my revelations was likely to beas plainly as I see it now. He had conversed frankly with Mrs. Couldock and with Miss Dawes, and was perfectly convinced as to theutter ignorance of them both in regard to the whole affair. Inconsequence, Mrs. Walworth was guilty in his estimation, and beingheld guilty could be no wife for him, much as he had loved her, andurgent as may have been the cause for her act. "But, " said I, in some horror of the consequences of an interferencefor which I was almost ready to blame myself now, "Mrs. Couldock andMiss Dawes could have done no more than deny all knowledge of thisletter. Now Mrs. Walworth does that, and--" "You have seen her? You have asked her--" "Yes, I have seen her, and I have asked her, and not an eyelashdrooped as she affirmed a complete ignorance of the whole affair. " Taylor's head fell. "I told you how that would be, " he murmured at last. "I cannot feelthat it is any proof of her innocence. Or rather, " he added, "I shouldalways have my doubts. " "And Mrs. Couldock and Miss Dawes?" "Ah!" he cried, rising and turning away; "there is no question ofmarriage between either of them and myself. " I was therefore not astonished when the week went by and noannouncement of his wedding appeared. But I was troubled and amtroubled still, for if mistakes are made in criminal courts, and theinnocent sometimes, through the sheer force of circumstantialevidence, are made to suffer for the guilty, might it not be that inthis little question of morals Mrs. Walworth has been wronged, andthat when I played the part of arbitrator in her fate, I onlysucceeded in separating two hearts whose right it was to be madehappy? It is impossible to tell, nor is time likely to solve the riddle. MustI then forever blame myself, or did I only do in this matter what anyhonest man would have done in my place? Answer me, some one, for I donot find my lonely bachelor life in any wise brightened by the doubt, and would be grateful to any one who would relieve me of it.