Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter

by Lawrence L. Lynch

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  THE HAND OF FRIENDSHIP WIELDS THE SURGEON'S KNIFE.

  Returning two hours later, they found Claire impatiently waiting theirarrival, radiantly beautiful, and overflowing with joy at sight of herbeloved Madeline.

  "You delightfully horrible girl!" she exclaimed, after greetings hadbeen exchanged, and they had all seated themselves in thedrawing-room. "To think that you are growing more lovely every day,and that you go and hide all your beauty under an old fright of a wig,nasty blue spectacles, and deformities of jackets! I declare, it's toobad! And then to wait on an old spinster who wears no end of falsehair, and false teeth, and false--"

  "Puzzled already. So much for not being a lady's maid; Now, I canenumerate every 'falsehood' assumed by that lady."

  Then Madeline gave a ludicrous description of Miss Arthur and herpeculiarities, causing even grave Olive to laugh heartily, and Claireto exclaim that she should watch the advertisements, and try playingladies' maid herself.

  Madeline once more recounted, in brief, the state of affairs nowexisting at Oakley, or as much as she had told Olive, during whichrecital impulsive Claire kept up a running fire of comments,indicative of surprise, indignation, disgust, and very one-sidedinterest.

  "I never heard of such a nest of vultures," she exclaimed, excitedly,when Madeline had completed her story. "Why, it's worse than a chapterout of a French drama. Goodness gracious, Madeline Payne, I only wishI could help you deal out justice to these wretches! Where is my fairygodmother now, that she don't come and convert me into a six-footbrother, to take some of this burden out of your little weak hands?"

  "Not so weak as you may think, you little warrior. These hands,"holding them up to view, "have a very strong cause, let me tellyou--and you think you would like to help me?" laughing oddly.

  "Wouldn't I!" with a fierce nod that made her two companions laughagain.

  The afternoon was wearing away, and Madeline began to grow restless,at finding no opportunity for saying a word in private to Claire. Atlast fortune favored her. Olive, seeing her gardener digging about alittle summer-house, which was a favorite retreat on a warm afternoon,bethought herself of a plan for adding to its comfort, by laying downcertain vines, etcetera, for next season's growing. So she bade thegirls note how she should have improved her arbor by another season,and hurried out to begin an argument, that from previous experienceshe knew would be hotly contested.

  "You delightfully horrible girl!"--page 191.]

  This was Madeline's opportunity. And as soon as Olive was out ofhearing, she turned to Claire saying:

  "Claire, I have not told you, nor Olive, all that I have discovered.For reasons, which you will understand later, I have thought it bestto make them known to you first. We must invent some excuse forabsenting ourselves from the parlor for a while."

  Claire looked grave and somewhat startled for an instant, butrecovering her composure she said, simply: "I am at your disposal,dear."

  "I think I had better go to my room and lie down," meaningly. "TellOlive, when she comes in, that I feel fatigued, and have gone to myroom to rest. Then you had better plead letters to write, and followme. Can you manage it?"

  "Easily," smiled Claire. "Why, Bonnie, Aileen, this becomes more andmore mysterious and interesting."

  "Wait before you pass judgment; now I am gone."

  Madeline quitted the drawing-room and sauntered leisurely up-stairs.

  When Olive reappeared, Claire carried out the little programme, asarranged, and hastened to join Madeline, musing as she went:

  "What could have induced that odd darling to confide in stupid littleme, while she leaves wise, thoughtful Olive in the dark?"

  Madeline was pacing the floor when Claire entered the room. Shemotioned her to a chair, and pushed the bolt in the door, thusrendering intrusion impossible.

  "What _can_ you be thinking of, Madeline, with that gloomy face?"exclaimed Claire, nestling into an easy chair as she spoke.

  "I am thinking, Claire," replied Madeline, gazing down at her sadly,"of the first time I ever saw your sister, and of the errand on whichshe came to me. How full of hope I was that morning! How radiant theday seemed, and how confident I was of happiness to come; as confidentas you are to-day, Claire, darling."

  There was something in Madeline's tone that sounded almost like pity,as she uttered these last words. Claire started and colored, but stillwas silent.

  "Olive did a brave, generous deed, but at that time I almost hated herfor it," musingly.

  "Oh, no, Madeline," interposed Claire, "you don't mean just that, I amsure. You never really hated our noble, unhappy Olive."

  "I felt very wicked, I assure you," smiling faintly. Then, abruptly:"How should you have felt, similarly placed?"

  "I?" wonderingly; "mercy! I can't tell."

  "Claire, think," in a tone almost of entreaty. "I want to know--I mustknow."

  "You must know? Why, Madeline?"

  "Because--because I want to find out what is in you; how strong youare."

  Claire looked more and more mystified. "State your case, then," shesaid, quietly. "I will try and analyze myself."

  "Good; now, Claire Keith, suppose that you love some man very much,and you trust him without knowing why, for no other reason than thatyou love him. When you are happiest, because you have but just partedfrom your lover--"

  Claire started and colored a little.

  "When you are thinking of the time, not far away, when you shall notpart from him any more--suppose that just then I, a friend whom youhave loved, come to you and say: 'This hero of yours is false; he is atwo-faced villain; he has deceived you; he is not honorable; he willbetray you if he can.' What would you answer me?"

  Claire lifted her head proudly. "I would make you take back every wordyou had uttered, or prove it beyond the shadow of a doubt!"

  "And if I proved it?"

  "Then I would thank you; and hate myself for having been deceived, andhim for having deceived me."

  "Would you grieve for him, Claire?"

  Quick as thought came the answer:

  "Grieve for him! No; I could no more love a liar and a villain than Icould caress a viper! I tell you, Madeline, I understand your feelingswhen you say that you hate Lucian Davlin," shuddering.

  "And you would not hate me also for rudely undeceiving you?"

  "Hate my best friend; my benefactor? No!"

  "I am thankful!"

  "But, Madeline, what does all this mean? Is this what you wanted tosay to me? What can my feelings have to do with your case?"

  "Claire,"--Madeline's face was very sad again--"this case is _our_case."

  "_Our_ case?"

  "Yes, ours; Olive's, yours, mine. And now I am going to test yourstrength."

  Claire did not look very strong just then.

  "You saw Edward Percy to-day."

  Claire Keith sprang to her feet. "How do you know that? And what hashe to do with the case?"

  "I know it because we, Mr. Percy and myself, came to this city by thesame train, and I could easily surmise that his business here was withyou."

  "Well?" haughtily.

  "Ah!" sadly; "you are almost angry with me now. But listen, Claire.Are you perfectly familiar with all the facts connected with poorPhilip Girard's sad disgrace?"

  "I think so," coldly.

  "You know that he was convicted upon the testimony of Lucian Davlinand another?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you recall the name of the man who was wounded, so said the jury,by Mr. Girard?"

  Up sprang Claire, her eyes blazing. "Madeline," she cried, "I see whatyou are coming at. You have got into your head the ridiculous ideathat this man Percy and Edward Percy are the same. It is absurd!"

  "Why?"

  "Because--because it _is_!" Then, as if the matter werequite settled, "why, he must have been in Europe at the time."

  "Claire, you are getting angry with me, and I have a long story totell you. But there is an easy way to settle this ma
tter. Are youwilling to let me take the picture you have of Edward Percy, andaccompany me into Olive's presence while I ask her if she ever saw theoriginal?"

  Nothing else could have so effectually quenched Claire's wrath. Shesaw that Madeline had some strong reason for her strange words.Sitting down with paling cheeks and trembling limbs, she thought. Thenlooking across at Madeline, she said, wearily:

  "I can't understand you at all, Madeline. It never once occurred tome to connect the man who brought all that trouble upon poor Philipwith my Edward Percy. It does not seem possible that they could be thesame. I had supposed the other Percy to be a man like--like Davlin."

  "My dear, did you ever see Davlin?"

  "No."

  "And you have fancied him a sort of handsome horse jockey, and thisPercy one of the same brotherhood?"

  "Perhaps;" smiling a little.

  "Claire, Lucian Davlin is an Apollo in person, a courtier in manner,and a Mephistopheles at heart. And Percy is an abridgement of Davlin."

  "I can't see," said Claire, rather frostily, "even if Edward Percy isthe man who was wounded by some unknown person five years ago, why hemust of necessity be a villain and a deceiver. It would be very, veryunpleasant, of course, to find that such were the case. But I couldnot hate Edward Percy for that, even if the fact must separate us."

  "Claire, Edward Percy is not only the man who helped send yoursister's husband to prison, but he is a villain doubly perjured; adeceiver, a betrayer. If justice ever gets her due he will end hisdays in the penitentiary."

  Then, seeing that Claire was about to speak: "Let me finish; now youshall have your proof."

  She recounted all there was to tell, from the day when Claire showedher the picture and she distrusted the face, to the present moment.

  Claire Keith listened in immovable silence; not a muscle quivered. Formany minutes after Madeline had finished her recital, she sat staringstraight before her, like a statue. At length she arose and crossed tothe door, drew back the bolt with a steady hand, put up a warningfinger, and said, in a voice like frozen silver: "Wait;" thendisappeared.

  Madeline scarcely had time to wonder what she meant, before Claire wasback, standing before her, calm and cold as an iceberg. She held inher hand the picture of Edward Percy, with the face turned away, andthis she extended to Madeline.

  "It is best that we make no mistakes," she said, quietly; "go showthat to Olive. Don't tell her how it came into your possession; askher if it is he. Then come back to me."

  "Shall I tell her--" began Madeline.

  "Tell her nothing until you have brought me back the picture."

  She pushed her toward the door.

  Madeline walked down-stairs, sorely puzzled, but thinking fast. "Shefights these facts bravely," she muttered. "Does she doubt, I wonder?"

  Olive was sitting before the window, watching the movements of John,the gardener, when Madeline entered the parlor. Going straight to her,she placed the picture in her hand, and said:

  "Do you know that face?"

  Olive Girard gave a startled cry.

  "Madeline, how did you come by this?"

  "No matter," calmly; "do you know the picture?"

  "Yes."

  "Who is he?"

  "The man who sent my husband to prison--Percy."

  Madeline took the picture from her hand. "Are you sure?"

  "I could swear to the face after these five years."

  "Thank you, Olive. Now be patient; I must go back to my room for alittle while. Don't ask me any questions yet. When I come down I willtell you how I obtained this, and why I have talked to you so much ofthis man."

  Madeline walked out of the room, leaving Olive staring after her inbewilderment.

  Claire was sitting in the same attitude as when she left her. "Well?"she said, raising her eyes.

  "She recognized it immediately. She would swear that it is the man whosent her husband to prison."

  "Thank you, dear."

  Claire took the picture from her hands, and without once glancing atit, she bent forward and dropped it into the grate.

  Madeline threw herself on her knees at the girl's side. "Oh, Claire,Claire! I have made you miserable; forgive me."

  "What for? You have done me a great service. Do you think I want thatman's love?"

  "But Claire--"

  "I loved an ideal; that ideal, see;" pointing to the grate. "Do youthink I shall cry after a pinch of ashes?" looking her full in theface. Then, with a shrug of annoyance. "You have roused poor Olive'scuriosity; she must hear of this miserable discovery of ours, oryours--bah," stamping her foot angrily, "my pride is hurt more than myheart!"

  "Your pride need not suffer more than it does already, Claire. Youhave seen me humbled to the dust; see me so still; and surely it won'tbe so very bitter to think that poor Madeline knows that your sunnylife has suffered one little shadow. I will tell Olive all I know ofEdward Percy, save that you have ever seen him. The knowledge that hehas crossed your path can in no way benefit her, or aid us inunmasking him. Evidently, he does not know that you are in any wayconnected with the fortunes of Philip Girard. Let this rest betweenus. If this plan suits you, perhaps I had better go and tell mystory to Olive. I have twice postponed a revelation to-day."

  "She bent forward, and dropped it into thegrate."--page 200.]

  "The plan does suit me. Many, many thanks, dear Madeline," saidClaire, calmly and gently. "And now, as I must, of course, be supposedto first hear this story after it has been told to Olive, or at thattime, I would prefer being present when you enlighten her. Let usdress for dinner, go down together, and--I leave the rest to yourtact."

  Madeline could readily comprehend that it would be easier for Claireto sit, with Olive, a listener, than to wait and hear the story fromthe lips of her sister. If it were left to Olive to tell, Claire'sface might betray her heart, perhaps. But now, hearing it fromMadeline, and with Olive, whose surprise and dismay at the revelationwould quite effectually cover up any signs of emotion Claire mightmanifest, the thing did not appear so difficult.

  Madeline signified her approval, and they separated to dress fordinner.

  Claire Keith made her toilet with swift, firm fingers, and all thewhile she was thinking fiercely, scornfully. She was not stunned bythe blow that had stricken her love and her pride. Rather, it seemed,she was quickened into unusual activity and clearness of thought.

  After a time, perhaps, she would feel more the sadness, the cruelty,of the hurt; now she felt the outrage to her pride, and a fierceself-scorn that she could have ever loved a man so base. She hatedEdward Percy for having deceived her, and equally she despised herselffor having been thus deceived by this specious flatterer.

  "You little fool!" she scoffed at her image reflected back from hermirror. "You are a very idiot among idiots! I wonder where are allyour high notions now. So," giving her hair an angry jerk, "youperched yourself aloft on a pinnacle, didn't you? You looked down uponall your sisterhood who were deceived, or betrayed, or sorrowing; andyou wondered how women could be so weak; how they _could_ be deludedby base men. You looked upon poor dead Kitty, and wondered what wasthe flaw in her intellect that made her the slave of a gambler and avillain. You argued that only an unsophisticated school girl could bedeceived as was poor Madeline. Oh, you have been very proud, and veryhigh has been your standard of manly worth, Miss Claire Keith! So highthat the man who has occupied it might easily slip from that pedestalto--Haman's gallows!"

  At this point in her tirade, something suspiciously like a sob arosein her throat, and checked her utterance. But it did not retard heractivity, and in a much shorter time than she usually spent upon anevening toilet, Miss Keith stood, accoutered and defiantly calm, atMadeline's door.