CHAPTER XXII
"TREASONS, STRATAGEMS, AND SPOILS"
But as Masters walked homeward his irresolution disappeared. He saw thathis love for Neaera and his _amour propre_ had blinded him to the realsignificance of the testimony elicited by the investigating committee.Taking together the unanimity of this testimony, the breaking down ofChairo's carriage, the _tendresse_ that Neaera had certainly onceentertained for Chairo, the duplicity with which he had over and overagain heard Neaera charged, certain ambiguities in some of her ownstatements, and this last barefaced appeal to me, there could be no moredoubt. He rehearsed the interview at which he had asked her to marryhim; he had been trapped by a show of indignation and a tearful eye.
By the time he reached his rooms his mind was made up. He sat down andwrote the following letter:
"DEAR NEAERA: I am afraid that the facts which have come to my knowledge leave no doubt as to your being responsible for the attack on the House of Detention. You are charged, too, with having tampered with Chairo's carriage in order to prevent his escape with Lydia. Shall I investigate this matter, or would it not perhaps be better for you to turn over the leaf and start a clean page somewhere else? I am prepared to do what is needful in order to make this easy to you, and send you by the messenger who hands this to you money for your immediate necessities. Should you wish your mother to accompany you, I shall provide for her also. Meanwhile, of course, we can arrange to undo the marriage that was somewhat hastily celebrated.
"Yours,
"MASTERS."
Neaera was not far from New York. She and her mother were both occupyinga cottage belonging to Masters in New Jersey, behind the Palisades. Hermother was a widow and a cipher. She had been a helpless spectator ofher daughter's too brilliant adventures, and was accustomed to suddenchanges.
When Neaera received Masters's letter she sent word to him she would bein New York that night. Masters on receiving the message packed a smallportmanteau and went to Boston, leaving word with his aunt, who kepthouse for him, to receive Neaera should she arrive.
Masters was unwilling to subject himself to a scene with Neaera. Whilehis messenger was away evidence had been presented to him which left nodoubt as to Neaera having tampered with Chairo's carriage; and this wasmore than sufficient as a last straw. He felt he had been unaccountablyweak in his previous personal encounters with her and that she was nowcounting upon this weakness. It is not easy for a man to turn a womanout of his house, nor to hand over to the authorities a politicalrefugee who has entrusted herself to his care. To keep Neaera in hisrooms under the circumstances would have been consistent neither withwhat he owed the state nor with what he owed himself. He trusted,therefore, to Neaera's intelligence to conclude from his departure thathis decision was irrevocable.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Lydia had left Tyringham and returned to New York. This hadnot happened without considerable negotiation, for it had been part ofthe understanding upon which Chairo had been released on parole thatLydia was to remain away from New York. The intention of thisarrangement was to prevent Chairo from further compromising Lydia,pending the determination of his case. But Lydia had been of late somuch disturbed by Chairo's letters that she had come to a decision whichshe proceeded at once, if possible, to carry out, and as a first steptoward doing so, it was indispensable that she should go to New York.
She sent, therefore, to Irene the letter from Chairo which hadparticularly exercised her and asked Irene whether, under thecircumstances, she could not once more be received at the cloister, nolonger as a Demetrian but as one in retreat, in order that she mightconcert with Irene and other members of the council as to the course sheproposed to pursue.
The letter from Chairo--or rather the extract from it--which she sent toIrene ran as follows:
"I could ask no one but you to believe how differently my own acts appear to me when I looked back upon them some weeks ago with the glamour that self-deception threw around them and when I hear them to-day coldly recited in the witness box. During the examination I have asked myself whether the witnesses I have heard testifying before the investigating committee were really telling about me, or were not rather telling of events which have happened only in a nightmare. And when I push my self-examination further, I see that the difference lies in this: At the time I prepared our forces for violence I was thinking of myself; now, I am thinking of you.
"I do not disguise from myself that the story narrated by more than a dozen witnesses regarding my actions prior to your acceptance of the mission, condemns me to an extent that makes the passage of an amnesty bill--so far as I am concerned--difficult if not impossible. The question, therefore, arises, What am I to do? I am perfectly prepared to take my punishment myself, but it almost makes me die to think that I am dragging you with me into disgrace. I have thought that probably I am at this moment the chief difficulty in the way of a conclusion of this business; that if I were not fighting for my own release, the others would be pardoned easily enough. I would willingly bear the brunt of it all were it not for you. My perplexity is, that in fighting for you I am fighting also for myself."
Irene discussed the possibility of Lydia's return to the cloister withher colleagues, and the extract from Chairo's letter was read to them.Masters, also, was consulted; for his effort to defend Neaera'sreputation had enlisted him against Chairo on the side of the cult, andhe had, therefore, been occasionally admitted to their counsels. It wasfinally decided that in view of Chairo's present attitude--the sincerityof which very few were disposed to doubt--and in view of the courseLydia proposed to adopt, she should be readmitted to retreat in thecloister, though it was deemed wise to give as little publicity to thisreturn as possible.
Masters, however, had told Neaera of it, and when Neaera arrived atMasters's rooms to find that he had left New York, her agile andvindictive mind immediately set itself to a combination of "treasons,stratagems, and spoils," in which somehow or another she wanted Lydiaand Chairo to play a part--a part that would give some satisfaction toher spite. Then, too, there was somewhere in her mind the possibilitythat if, as she understood, Chairo was hard pressed, and if, as shehoped, Lydia was to any degree alienated from him through the influenceof the cloister, Chairo might be induced to share her evils with her.There were chapters in their past that he might not find it distastefulto rehearse.
Neaera on arriving in New York found Masters's aunt fussily desirous tobe useful to her, and yet very anxious at the thought that she washarboring a political runaway. Neaera had arrived after dark, so veiledas to escape recognition. She was nerved for an encounter with Masters,in which she was by feminine dexterity to dissipate the suspicions towhich he had fallen too easy a prey, and the news that he was gone hadfor first effect to make her restlessly anxious to do something. Shetherefore asked whether two notes could be delivered by privatemessenger that night, one to Lydia and one to Chairo. After inquiry,arrangements were made to do this, and Neaera sat down to contrive herlittle plot. The first part of it was simple enough. She wrote to Lydiathat she had come to New York at great personal risk expressly to seeher on a matter of vital importance, and asked her to come the nextmorning punctually at ten. To Chairo she showed less solicitude: sheconfined herself to the bare statement of her whereabouts, and that shewould be alone next morning at a quarter past ten till half past. Themessenger was directed not to wait for an answer to either note.
The next morning, punctually at ten, Lydia, to Neaera's delight, wasshown into Masters's study.
"I had to see you," said Neaera, kissing her. She dismissed the aunt,begging her not to admit any other persons without announcing them, andput Lydia down on a sofa. She sat next to Lydia and took her hand.
"I am afraid you don't like me," she said.
"On the contrary," answered Lydia, "I like you, but I differ from
you."
"Yes, I know; we differ on almost everything; on the cult, on stateemployment, on personal liberty, etc., etc., but then, we have one thingin common, we are both women."
Lydia looked a little puzzled. This abstract conversation was not whatshe had been prepared by Neaera's note to expect.
"I am not at all sure," she said, "that it is not just about womanhoodthat we differ most."
"Lydia!" answered Neaera reproachfully.
"I did not mean to wound you," said Lydia quickly. "There is so muchroom for honest difference of opinion that I do not undertake to set myopinion against yours, or indeed anyone's. But is it not dangerous foryou to be here?"
Neaera smiled consciously, and said:
"I am not thinking of that. I came to see you because I felt you oughtto be put right, and I want to do right; in the first place, you will bemisled if you believe the wicked falsehoods that are being circulated inorder to put the whole blame for what has occurred upon me. I shouldnever have left New York of my own will. Masters forced me to go, and Iam occupying his cottage at Englewood. I am prepared at any time toreturn to New York and set things right, and I can; I can testify to themessage sent by Chairo, to my efforts to induce Balbus to give up theattempt at rescue, to Balbus's refusal to listen to me, to his havingarrested Xenos and bound him, to my having released Xenos--and Xenoswill, I am sure, if I ask him, confirm my testimony. This will setChairo right before the committee; only I don't want to see Chairo. Hehas been imploring me for an interview. I don't want to complicatethings; you have suffered enough, you shall not suffer any more throughme----"
Lydia was about to rise and leave the room; she would not by word orgesture admit the inference to be drawn from Neaera's words--admit thepossibility of inconstancy on the part of Chairo; but at the moment shewas about to rise a ring was heard at the door, and presently the auntappeared excitedly, and announced that Chairo was there. Neaera jumpedup and shut the door.
"You must not see him here," she said to Lydia. "Come into this room,"and she beckoned her into an adjoining parlor, separated from the studyonly by a curtain. Lydia, who was under a promise not to meet Chairo,had no option but to follow Neaera, but she followed with a cheekflushed with indignation. She sat stiffly in a chair while Neaera lefther to receive Chairo. She heard the door of the study open andNeaera's voice in the adjoining room say:
"Chairo, my poor Chairo!"
Then she buried her face in her hands and her fingers in her ears sothat she should not be an unwilling listener. She would be staunch toher faith in Chairo, for this was the one rock under the shelter ofwhich in the shifting and stormy skies she felt there was any longer anysafety for her.
Lydia heard in spite of herself Neaera's cooing treble and the richvibrating notes of Chairo's voice; she heard them laugh once, and thenthere came what seemed to be a silence that was terrible to her. Later,the voices resumed again. She passed a half hour of anguish, striving tolisten and striving not to hear, and during that half hour she thoughtshe heard the voices in the adjoining room pass through every gamut ofemotion; they were sometimes raised as though each was striving to outdothe other, then they would sink into silence again. Would it never cometo an end--this interview between the man she loved and a woman shedespised? At last she heard a door close; she removed her hands from herhead and tried to look composed.
Neaera came to her with her cheeks flushed.
"Did you hear anything?" asked she.
Lydia arose.
"I have been here too long," said Lydia. "You have nothing else to say,I think," and she moved out of the parlor into the study and was movingout of the study into the hall when Neaera stopped her, and said:
"You are not mistaking Chairo's visit, are you?" There was the prettiestlittle dimple in Neaera's cheek as she said this. "Nothing butpolitics," she added, and the dimple deepened.
"Good-by," said Lydia, without holding out her hand.
Neaera burst out now into a little laugh, for Lydia had passed her andwas at the door.
"Nothing but politics," laughed Neaera, as Lydia shut the door behindher.
The Woman Who Vowed (The Demetrian) Page 22
