THE CHEATED JULIET.
BY Q.
_Extracted from the Memoirs of a Retired Burglar._
The house in question was what Peter the Scholar (who corrects myproof-sheets) calls one of the rusinurby sort--the front facing a streetand the back looking over a turfed garden with a lime tree or two, alaburnum, and a lawn-tennis court marked out, its white lines plain tosee in the starlight. At the end of the garden a door, painted darkgreen, led into a narrow lane between high walls, where, if two personsmet, one had to turn sideways to let the other pass. The entrance tothis lane was cut in two by a wooden post about the height of your hip,and just beyond this, in the high road, George was waiting for us withthe dog-cart.
We had picked the usual time--the dinner-hour. It had just turned dark,and the church-clock, two streets away, was chiming the quarter aftereight, when Peter and I let ourselves in by the green door I spoke ofand felt along the wall for the gardener's ladder that we knew washanging there. A simpler job there never was. The bedroom window we hadmarked on the first-floor stood right open to the night air; and insidethere was the light of a candle or two flickering, just as a carelessmaid will leave them after her mistress has gone down to dinner. To besure there was a chance of her coming back to put them out; but we couldhear her voice going in the servants' hall as we lifted the ladder andrested it against the sill.
"She's good for half a hour yet," Peter whispered, holding the ladderwhile I began to climb; "but if I hear her voice stop, I'll give thesignal to be cautious."
I went up softly, pushed my head gently above the level of the sill, andlooked in.
It was a roomy place with a great half-tester bed, hung with curtains,standing out from the wall on my right. The curtains were of chintz, adark background with flaming red poppies sprawling over it; and thefurther curtain hid the dressing-table, and the candles upon it and thejewel-case that I confidently hoped to stand upon it also. A brightBrussels carpet covered the floor, and the wall-paper, Iremember--though for the life of me I can't tell why--was a pale greyground, worked up to imitate watered silk, with sprigs of gilthoneysuckle upon it.
I looked round and listened for half a minute. The house was still asdeath up here--not a sound in the room or in the passages beyond. With anod to Peter to hold the ladder firm I lifted one leg over the sill,then the other, dropped my feet carefully upon the thick carpet and wentquickly round the bed to the dressing-table.
But at the corner, and as soon as ever I saw round the chintz curtain,my knees gave way, and I put out a hand towards the bed-post.
Before the dressing-table, and in front of the big glass, in which shecould see my white face, was an old lady seated.
She wore a blaze of jewels and a low gown out of which rose thescraggiest neck and shoulders I have ever looked on. Her hair was thickwith black dye and fastened with a diamond star. The powder between thetwo candles showed on her cheek-bones like flour on a miller's coat.Chin on hand, she was gazing steadily into the mirror before her, andeven in my fright I had time to note that a glass of sherry and a plateof rice and curry stood at her elbow, among the rouge-pots andpowder-puffs.
While I stood stock still and pretty well scared out of my wits, sherose, still staring at my image in the glass, folded her hands modestlyover her bosom, and spoke in a deep tragical voice--
"The Prince!"
Then, facing sharply round, she held out her thin arms.
"You have come--at last?"
There wasn't much to say to this except that I had. So I confessed it.Even with the candles behind her I could see her eyes glowing like adog's, and an uglier poor creature this world could scarcely show.
"Is the ladder set against the window?"
"Since you seem to know, ma'am," said I, "it is."
"Ah, Romeo! Your cheeks are ruddy--your poppies are too red."
"Then I'm glad my colour's come back; for, to tell the truth, you didgive me a turn, just at first. You were looking out for me, nodoubt----"
"My Prince!"--She stretched out her arms again, and being pretty well atmy wits' end I let her embrace me. "It has been so long," she said. "Oh,the weary while! And they ill-treat me here. Where have you been, allthis tedious time?"
I wasn't going to answer _that_, you may be sure. It appeared to me that'twas my right to ask questions rather than stand there answering them.
"If they've been ill-treating you, ma'am," said I, "they shall answerfor it."
"My love!"
"Yes, ma'am. Would it be taking a liberty if I asked their names?"
"There is Gertrude--"
"Gertrude's hash is as good as settled, ma'am."
I checked Gertrude off on my thumb.
"--that's my niece."
For a moment I feared I'd been a little too prompt. But she went on----
"And next there's Henry; and the children--who have more than once madefaces at me; and Phipson."
"Phipson's in it too?"
"You know her?"
"Don't I?" It surprised me a trifle to find that Phipson was a female.
"Three times to-night she pulled my hair, and the rice she broughtme--look at it! all stuck together and sodden."
"Phipson shall pay for it with her blood."
"My hero--my darling! Don't spare Phipson. She screams bitterly if a pinis stuck into her. I did it once. Stick her all over with pins."
By this I'd begun to guess what was pretty near the truth--that I wastalking with a mad aunt of the family below, and that the game was in myhands if I played it with decent care. So I brought her to face theimportant question.
"Look here," I said, "all this shall be done when you are out of theirhands. At present I'm running a considerable risk in braving thesepersecutors of yourn. Dearest madam, the ladder's outside and thecarriage waiting. Hadn't we better elope at once?"
She gave a sob, and fell on my shoulders.
"Oh, is it true--is it true? Pinch me, that I may awake if this is but ahappy dream!"
"You are ready?"
"This moment."
"There's just one other little matter, ma'am--your jewels. You won'tleave them to your enemies, I suppose?"
This was the dangerous moment, and I felt a twitch of the nerves as Iwatched her face to see how she would take the suggestion. But the poorsilly soul turned up her eyes to mine, all full of tears and confidence.
"Dearest, I am old, old. Had you come earlier, my beauty had not wantedjewels to set it off. But now I must wear them to look my best--as yourbride."
She hid her face in her hands for a second, then turned to thedressing-table, lifted her jewel-case and put it into my hands.
"I am ready," she repeated: "let us be quick and stealthy as death."
She followed me to the window and looking out, drew back.
"What horrible, black depths!"
"It's as easy," said I, "as pie. You could do it on your head; lookhere----," I climbed out first and helped her, setting her feet on therungs.
We went down in silence, I choking with laughter all the way at thesight of Peter below, who was looking with his mouth open and his lipstoo weak to meet on the curses and wonderment that rose up from thedepths of him. When I touched turf and handed him the jewel-case, hetook it like a man in a trance.
We put the ladder back into its place and stole over the turf together.But outside the garden-door Peter could stand no more of it--
"I've a fire-arm in my pocket," whispered he, pulling up, "and I'm goingto fire it off to relieve my feelings if you don't explain here and now.Who, in pity's name, is _she_?"
"You mug--she's the Original Sleeping Beauty. I'm eloping with her, andyou've got her jewels."
"Pardon me, Jem," he says in his gentlemanly way, "if I don't quite see.Are you taking her off to melt her or marry her? For how to get rid ofher else----"
The poor old creature had halted, too, three paces ahead of us, andwaited while we whispered, with the moonlight, that slanted down intothe lane, whitening her bare neck a
nd flashing in her jewels.
"One moment," I said, and stepped forward to her. "You had better takeoff those ornaments here, my dear, and give them to my servant to takecare of. There's a carriage waiting for us at the end of the lane, andwhen he has stowed them under the seat we can climb in and driveoff----"
"To the end of the world--to the very rim of it, my hero."
She pulled the gems from her ears, hair, and bosom, and handed them toPeter, who received them with a bow. Next she searched in her pocket anddrew out a tiny key. Peter unlocked the case, and having carefullystowed the diamonds inside, locked it again, handed back the key,touched his hat, and walked off towards the dog-cart.
"My dearest lady," I began, as soon as we were alone between the highwalls, "if the devotion of a life----"
Her bare arm crept into mine. "There is but a little time left for us inwhich to be happy. Year after year I have marked off the almanack: dayby day I have watched the dial. I saw my sisters married, and mysisters' daughters; and still I waited. Each had a man to love her andtend her, but none had such a man as I would have chosen. There werenone like you, my Prince."
"No, I daresay not."
"Oh, but my heart is not so old! Take my hand--it is firm and strong;touch my lips--they are burning----"
A low whistle sounded at the top of the lane. As I took her hands Ipushed her back, and turning, ran for my life. I suppose that, as I ran,I counted forty before her scream came, and then the sound of her feetpattering after me.
* * * * *
She must have run like a demon; for I was less than ten yards ahead whenPeter caught my wrist and pulled me up on to the back-seat of thedog-cart. And before George could set the horse going her hand clutchedat the flap on which my feet rested. It missed its grasp, and she nevergot near enough again. But for half a minute I looked into that horribleface following us and working with silent rage; and for half a mile atleast I heard the patter of her feet in the darkness behind. Indeed, Ican hear it now.
THE MYSTIC KREWE.
BY MAURICE THOMPSON.
Eleven Possible Cases Page 9
