Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter

by Lawrence L. Lynch

  CHAPTER XX.

  STRUGGLING AGAINST FATE.

  When Claire left the drawing-room, Madeline had started up as if aboutto follow her. Recalling herself, she sat down again, keeping, asbefore, near to Olive, and taking as little share in the conversationas was possible. She dared not trust herself too much; her goodresolves were strong, but not stronger than was the charm of his voiceand presence.

  "Let them think me uncivil," she murmured to herself; "what does itmatter now?"

  But her trial was not over. Olive and Clarence had held frequentcouncil together concerning the wayward girl, and how they could bestinfluence her aright without breaking the letter or spirit of theirpromise to her. And the absence of Claire added to their freedom ofspeech.

  Olive had intimated to Doctor Vaughan that Madeline had taken some,perhaps unsafe, steps in the pursuit of her enemies. He, understandingthe impetuosity of the girl, as well as her reckless fearlessness,could not conceal the anxiety he felt.

  Acting under an impulse of disinterested kindness, Clarence Vaughancrossed the room and sat down by Madeline's side.

  "Miss Madeline," he said, as respectfully as if to an empress, "we,Mrs. Girard and myself, cannot get rid of the idea that somehow youpartly belong to us; that we ought to be given a little, just a verylittle, authority over you."

  There was a shade of bitterness in the girl's answer. "You have the_right_ to exercise authority over me, if you choose to do so. You aremy benefactors."

  They felt the reproof of her words. This keen-witted, uncontrollablegirl, was putting up barrier upon barrier between herself and theirdesire to serve her. Very quietly he answered her:

  "You do us an injustice, when you suggest that we claim yourconfidence on the score of any indebtedness on your part. It has beenour happiness to serve you. If we have not your esteem, if we may notstand toward you in the light of a brother and sister, anxious onlyfor your welfare and happiness, then we have no claim upon you."

  "My happiness!"

  The face was averted, but the lips were pale and drawn, and the wordscame through them like a moan.

  Olive stirred uneasily. She could see that the girl was suffering,although she did not guess at the cause.

  "Yes," continued Clarence, laying his hand gently upon hers;"Madeline,--will you let me call you Madeline?--will you let me beyour brother? I have no sister, almost no kin; I won't be an exactingbrother," smilingly. "I won't overstep the limits you set me, but wemust have done with this nonsense about benefactors, and gratitude,and all that."

  No answer, eyes down dropped, face still half-averted, and looking asif hardening into marble.

  "What is my fate?" still holding her hand. "Can you accept so unworthya brother?"

  "Yes," in such a cold, far-away tone.

  He lifted the hand to his lips. "Thank you, Madeline," he said, as ifshe had done him high honor.

  Madeline felt her courage failing her. How could she listen to him,talk to him, with anything like sisterly freedom, and not prove falseto her resolve to further his cause with Claire? And yet how could sherefuse him the trust he asked of her?

  It was very pleasant to know that he was thus interested in her; shefelt herself slipping quickly into a day-dream in which nothing wasdistinct save that there existed a bond between them, that he hadclaimed the right to exercise authority over her, and that she wasvery, very glad even to be his slave. Listening to his voice, a smilecrept to her lips, and--

  "The eyes smiled too, But 'twas as if remembering they had wept, And knowing they would some day weep again."

  "I don't intend to give up my claims upon Madeline; I elected her mysister, when I brought her home with me. And I had been flatteringmyself that I was to have a companion, but I am afraid she will runaway from me. She ought to take Claire's place in my home, ought shenot? Claire is with me so little," said Olive.

  Madeline smiled sadly. "I could never do that," she said; "I could nomore fill Claire's place than I could substitute myself for the raysof the sun."

  "Claire would laugh at you for that speech," said Olive.

  "But it is true; is it not?" appealing to Doctor Vaughan.

  He colored slightly under her gaze. "We don't want two Claires," hesaid; "but you can be yourself, and that will make us happy."

  The girl let her eyes fall, and rest upon her clasped hands.

  "I would like to make you happy," she said, softly.

  "Really?"

  "Really," lifting her eyes to his face.

  "Then, promise us that you will let us help to right your wrongs, andthat you will come back, like a good sister, and stay with Mrs.Girard."

  Her face hardened. "I can not," she said, briefly.

  "You will not," seriously.

  No answer.

  "Madeline, what is it you wish to do?"

  "What I wish to do, I can not. I can tell you what I intend to do,"sitting very erect.

  "Then what do you intend?"

  "I intend," turning her eyes away from them both, and fixing themmoodily upon the fire, "to follow up the path in which I have set myfeet. I intend to oust a base adventuress from the home that was mymother's; to wrest the fortune that is mine from the grasp of a badold man, and make him suffer for the wrong he did my mother. I intendto laugh at Lucian Davlin, when he is safe behind prison bars; to huntdown and frustrate an impostor, and by so doing, clear the name ofPhilip Girard before all the world." Her voice was low, but very firm,dogged almost, in its tone.

  He turned a perplexed face toward Olive.

  "What does it all mean?" he asked.

  "What she says," replied Mrs. Girard, flushing with suppressedexcitement. "She has found a clue that may lead to Philip's release."

  He moved nearer to the girl, and taking her hand, drew her toward him,until she faced him. "Madeline, is this true?"

  "Yes."

  "And you will hold me to a promise not to lift a hand to help clearthe name of my friend?" reproachfully.

  "Yes," unflinchingly.

  "Are you doing right, my sister?"

  She attempted to draw away her hand.

  "Child, what can you do?"

  She turned her eyes toward Olive. "She will tell you what I have done.I can do much more."

  Olive came suddenly to her side. "Oh, Madeline!" she said, "let himtake all this into his hands. It is not fit work for you. It willharden you, make you bitter, and--"

  Madeline wrested her hand away and sprang up, standing before themflushed and goaded into bitterness.

  "Yes," she cried, wildly, "I know; you need not say it. It will hardenme; it has already. It will make me bitter and bad, unfit for yoursociety, unworthy of your friendship. I shall be a liar, a spy, ahypocrite--but I shall succeed. You see, you were wrong in offering meyour friendship, Doctor Vaughan. I shall not be worthy to be calledyour sister, but," brokenly, "you need not have feared. I neverintended to presume upon your friendship; I never intended to troubleyou after--after my work is done. Ah! how dared I think to become oneof you--I, whom you rescued from a gambler's den; I who go aboutdisguised, and play the servant to people whom you would not touch.You are right; after this I will go my way alone."

  Her voice became inarticulate, the last word was a sob, and she turnedswiftly to leave the room.

  Olive sprang forward with a remorseful cry, but Clarence Vaughanmotioned her back, and with a quick stride was at the door, one handupon it, the other firmly clasping the wrist of the now sobbing girl.Closing the door, which she had partially opened, he led her back,very gently, but firmly, and placing her in a chair, stood beside heruntil the sobs ceased. Then he drew a chair close to her own, andsaid, softly:

  "My little sister, we never meant this. These are your own morbidfancies. Because you are playing the part of amateur detective, youare not necessarily cut off from all your friends. We would not giveyou up so easily, and there is too much that is good and noble in youto render your position so very dangerous to your womanhood. You have
grieved Mrs. Girard deeply by imputing any such meaning to her words.Can't you understand, child, that it is because we care for you,because we want to shield you from the hardships you must of necessityundergo, that we wish you to let us work with and for you?"

  Madeline shivered and gave a long, sobbing sigh. He took both listlesshands in his own.

  "Now, sister mine, won't you make me a promise, just one?"

  Her hands trembled under his. How could she resist him when hisstrong, firm clasp was upon her; when he was looking into her eyespleadingly, even tenderly; when his breath was on her cheek, and hisvoice murmured in her ear? She sat before him, contrite, conquered,strangely happy; conscious of nothing save a wish that she might diethen and there, with her hands in his. She was afraid to speak andbreak the spell. He had said that he cared for her, was not thatenough?

  "Tell me, Madeline."

  "Yes," she breathed, rather than uttered.

  "Yes," she cried, wildly, "I know; you need not sayit"--page 219.]

  "Thank you. Now, sister, we are going to trust to your sagacity inthis matter. But you must promise me, as your brother, who is bound tolook after your welfare, that you will take no decisive steps withoutfirst informing us, and that as soon as the work becomes too heavy foryour hands, you will call upon me to help you. My sister will surelydo nothing that her brother cannot sanction?"

  She dropped her eyes and said, simply: "I will do what you wish meto."

  "You will give me your confidence, then?"

  "Yes."

  "Am I to hear a complete history of all that has happened thus farfrom Mrs. Girard?"

  "Yes."

  "And, after hearing it, may I communicate with you?"

  She glanced up in surprise.

  "Or," continued he; "better still, may I come down to Bellair and talkthings over with you, should I deem it advisable?"

  "If you wish;" looking glad.

  "Mind, I don't want to intrude; I will not come if you don't desireit; but I shall wish to come. And you may manage our interviews as yousee fit. I will do nothing to compromise you in the eyes of the peopleyou are among. May I come?"

  "Yes;" very softly, and trembling under his hand.

  "Then we will say no more about all this to-night. You have alreadyabused your strength, and if you don't get rest and sleep we shallhave you ill again, and then what would become of our littledetective?"

  Olive came forward with outstretched hands and pleading eyes. "I can'twait any longer to be forgiven for my thoughtless words," she said."Madeline, you will forgive me?"

  "Of course Madeline will," replied Clarence. "Now you had betterforgive Madeline for putting such a perverse construction upon yourwords, and then we will send her away to get the rest she must have."

  "I was abominable, Olive," said the girl, so ruefully that Clarencelaughed outright. "Of course, I know you are too kind to say a cruelthing. I--I believe I was trying to quarrel with you all; do forgiveme."

  "Of course you were trying to quarrel with us; and I haven't a bit offaith in your penitence now, young lady," said Clarence, rising andsmiling. "I can't believe in you until I am assured that you will goto bed straightway, and swallow every bit of the wine I shall send upto you."

  "With something nice in it," suggested Olive.

  "With something very nice in it, of course. Now, will you obey sotyrannical a brother, and swallow his first brotherly prescriptionwithout making a face?"

  All his kindness and care for her comfort brought a thrill of gladnessto the girl's heart, and some of the old _debonnaire_, half-defiantlight back to her eyes, as she replied, while rising from her chair,in obedience to a gesture of playful authority from Clarence, "Will Iaccept a scolding and go to bed, that means."

  Then making a wry face and evidently referring to the wine: "Is itvery bitter?"

  "Not very; but you must swallow every drop."

  "And I will order the wine," said Olive, touching the bell. "You know,Dr. Vaughan, that Madeline leaves us in the morning?"

  "No?" in surprise. "Must you go so soon?"

  "Yes," demurely, "unless I am forbidden."

  "We are too wise to forbid you to do anything you have set your hearton. Then I must tell you good-by here and now, for a little time."

  "Or a long one," gravely.

  "Not for a long one. 'If the mountain won't come,' you know;--well, ifI don't get _very_ satisfactory reports from you, look out for me."

  "You can't get at me," wickedly.

  "Can't I? Wait and see. I'll come as your grandfather, or your maidenaunt."

  "Please don't," laughing, "one spinster is enough."

  "Well, I won't, then; I think I'll come as your father confessor."

  At this Olive joined in the laugh.

  "Good-night, Dr. Vaughan."

  "Good-night, Miss Payne," with exaggerated emphasis and dignity, butholding fast to her hand.

  She looked at the hand doubtfully, then up into his face."Good-night--brother," with pretty shyness.

  "That is better," releasing the little hand. "Good-night, sister mine.Mind you drink every drop of the wine."

  "I will!" quite seriously. "Good-night, Olive."

  Olive stooped and kissed her cheek. "Good-night, dear," she said, "andhappy dreams."

  Dr. Vaughan opened the door for her, and smiled after her as shelooked back from the foot of the stairs. Then closing the door he cameback, and stood on the hearth-rug, looking thoughtful.

  "It is a difficult nature to deal with, and in her present mood, adangerous one. She is painfully sensitive, and possesses anexceedingly nervous temperament. Then, that episode with Davlin wasvery humiliating to her, and it is constantly in her mind. Evidentlyshe has lately been under much excitement, and she is hardly herselfto-night. I think, however, if I were you, I would make no furthereffort to dissuade her from her purpose. It will do no good, and harmmight come of it."

  "Indeed, I will not," said Olive. "How thankful I am that you werehere; your calmness and tact has saved us something not pleasant. Idon't think I could have managed her myself."

  "Probably not; and now I will prepare a soothing and sleeping draught,and then, as it is late, will detain you no longer. Perhaps you hadbetter see that the draught is administered."

  Olive gladly accepted the charge, and shortly after Doctor Vaughantook his departure, wise and yet blind; blind as to the true cause ofMadeline's outbreak and subsequent submissiveness.

  Madeline obeyed to the letter the instructions of Doctor Vaughan. As aresult, she fell asleep almost immediately, before calm thought hadcome to dispel her mood of dreamy happiness.

  In the morning she awoke quieted, refreshed, and quite mistress ofherself. She did not once refer to the events of the previous evening.Only, before taking leave of Claire, she whispered in her ear:

  "Dear Claire, you can make a noble man happy. Let his love atone toyou for this present bitterness. God bless you both."

  It was an odd speech, truly. But as Madeline turned her back upon thepretty villa, and was driven swiftly to the railroad depot, shewondered why Claire had responded to it only with a passionate kissand with tears in her beautiful eyes.

  And Claire, having seen her driven from the door, fled precipitatelyto her room. Locking herself in, she fell upon her knees beside a lowchair. Burying her face in her hands she wept bitterly,--not forherself, but for the girl who was so heroically resigning to anotherthe man she loved; who was going forth, alone, to encounter hardship,perhaps danger, to fight single-handed, not only her own battles, butthose of her friends as well.

  "And I dared to judge her," said the girl, indignantly. "I presumed tocriticise the delicacy of this grand, brave nature! Why, I ought to beproud to claim her friendship, and I am!"

  From that hour, let Madeline's course seem ever so doubtful, let Olivefear and doubt as she would, Claire Keith stoutly defended every act,and averred that Madeline could do nothing wrong. And from that hour,Claire began to plot upon her own responsibility.
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  In due course Doctor Vaughan called, and was closeted with Olive avery long time--rather, with Olive and Claire, for this young lady hadsurprised her sister, by expressing a desire to hear what DoctorVaughan would say of Madeline's adventures. To tell the truth, Clairehad fancied that Clarence would criticise more or less, and it was inthe capacity of champion for the absent that she appeared at theinterview.

  After the matter had been fully discussed, Doctor Vaughan addressedhimself to Claire: "Miss Keith, you have been a good listener. Won'tyou give us your opinion as to the achievements of our little friend?"

  Claire came forward, with a charming mixture of frankness andembarrassment: "First, let me make the _amende honorable_, DoctorVaughan. I presented myself at this interview with the full intention,and for the express purpose, of waging war upon you both, ifnecessary, and I had no doubt that it would be."

  Doctor Vaughan looked much astonished.

  "But," pursued Claire, "I have misjudged you. I did not think youwould so heartily approve of Madeline's course, and I was bristlingwith bayonets to defend her."

  "I must own to being of Claire's opinion," interposed Olive, lookingsomewhat amused.

  Clarence smiled and then looked thoughtful.

  "I can easily understand," he said, seriously, "how you ladies mighthave looked upon the course Miss Payne has taken, as an objectionable,even an improper, one. The position in which she has placed herselfis, certainly, an unusual, a startling one for a woman of refinementand delicacy. But we must consider that the occasion is also anunusual one, and ordinary measures will not apply successfully toextraordinary cases. As to the impropriety, no one need fear to trusthis or her honor in the keeping of a woman as brave and noble asMadeline Payne is proving herself."

  "Then you do not censure Madeline for refusing to trust the matter inthe hands of a detective?" questioned Olive.

  "The matter _is_ in the hands of a detective, Mrs. Girard; in thehands of the shrewdest and ablest little detective that could, by anypossibility, have been found. Why, Madeline has accomplished, in ashort time, what the best detectives on our regular force might havelabored at for a year, and then failed of achieving!"

  Claire threw a look of triumph at her sister. "Oh, how glad I am tohear you say all this, and how glad Madeline would be." Then shechecked herself suddenly.

  "I can suggest but one improvement upon the present state of things,"said Clarence, after a moment's reflection. "That is, if we canpersuade Madeline to permit it, and I think we can, we should set twomen at work, neither one to be aware of the employment of the other.One to trace out as much of the past of this man Percy, as may be. Theother to perform the same office for Davlin. Of course, they would notbe advised of the actual reason for these researches, and so theirinvestigations would in no way interfere with Madeline's pursuit ofthe game at Oakley. I don't think we could improve upon the presentarrangement there."

  "And how do you propose to bring this about?" questioned Olive.

  "By going down to Bellair, as soon as I can get the necessarypermission from our little _generalissimo_, and talking the matterover with her. I think she will see the propriety of the move, don'tyou?" appealing to Claire.

  "I think she will follow your advice," gravely.

  "I hope she will," said Olive.

  "I _know_ she will do exactly right," asserted Claire, so positivelythat they both smiled.

  "I think I may venture to agree with you, Miss Keith," said Dr.Vaughan.

  "You had better, both of you, where Madeline is concerned," lookingferocious.

  "I begin to think that valor is infectious," laughed Olive, andClarence joined in the laugh.

  Altogether the result of their council was pleasing to each of thethree. Olive was hopeful; Clarence was full of enthusiasm, and moredeeply in love than ever with generous Claire; and she was pleasedwith his frank admiration of Madeline's courage, and full of hope forMadeline's future.

  "He admires her now. He will love her by and by," she assured herself.