_The Adventure of Miss Clarissa Dawson._
Miss Clarissa Dawson was a young lady who had charge of the cutlerycounter in one of the great emporiums of State Street. She wasreckoned of a pretty wit and not more cutting were the Sheffieldrazors that were piled before her than the remarks she sometimes madeto those who, incited thereto by her reputation for readiness ofretort, sought to engage her in a contest of repartee. It was seldomthat she issued from these encounters other than triumphant, leavingher presumptuous opponents defeated and chagrined. But in the month ofNovember of the last year, for once she owned to herself that she hadbeen overcome,--overcome, it is true, because her adversary wasplainly a person of stupidity, mailed by his doltishness against thekeenest sarcasm she could launch against him, yet neverthelessovercome. To her choicest bit of irony, the individual replied,"Somebody left you on the grindstone and forgot to take you off," towhich the most adroit in quips and quirks could find no fittingreplication, unless it were to indulge in facial contortion orinvective, and Miss Clarissa was too much of a lady to do either.Forced into silence, she had no resource but to seek to transfix himwith a protracted and contemptuous stare, which, though failing todisconcert the object, put her in possession of the facts that he hadmild blue eyes, that the remnants of his hair were red, that he wasslightly above middle height and below middle age, and that there waslittle about his face and still less his figure to distinguish himfrom a multitude of men of the average type. Indeed, one could noteven conjecture his nationality, for his type was one to be seen inall branches of the Indo-European race. If from a package in his upperleft-hand coat pocket, which, broken, disclosed some wieners, youconcluded he was of the German nation, a short dudeen in an upper vestpocket would seem to indicate that he was an Irishman. His coat was ofblack cheviot, new, and of the current cut. His vest was of corduroy,of the kind in vogue in the past decade, while his pantaloons, black,with a faint green line in them, were a compromise, being of anon-commital cut that would never be badly out of style in any modernperiod.
Sustaining Miss Clarissa's stare with great composure, he purchasedsix German razors at thirty-five cents each, six English at fifty,twelve American at the same price, and a stray French razor atsixty-two.
"Don't you want some razorine?" asked Miss Clarissa. "It makesrazors--and other things--sharper."
"Why don't you use it, then, instead of lobsterine?" replied thestranger, picking up his package and the change. Miss Clarissadeigning to give no reply but an angry frown, the stranger expressedhis gratitude for the amusement he intimated she had afforded him andhe further said he hoped he would see her at the Charity Ball and hemade bold to ask her to save the second two-step for him, andthereafter departed, having declined Miss Clarissa's offer to have hispurchases sent to his address, an offer dictated not by a spirit ofaccommodation and kindliness, but by a desire to learn in what part ofthe city he had his residence.
On the morrow again came a man to purchase razors, of which there wasa large number on Miss Clarissa's counter, traveling men's samples forsale at ridiculous prices. The man had purchased two dozen razorsbefore Miss Clarissa, noting this similarity to the transactions ofthe odious person and thereby led to take a good look at him, observedwith astonishment that this new man had on exactly the same suit thathad been worn by the purchaser of the day before. She recognized thefabric, the color, everything down to a discoloration on the left coatlapel. Here the resemblance ended. The second individual was a youngman. He had a heavy shock of abundant hair. He was not more thantwenty-eight years old and so far from being commonplace, he was of adistinguished appearance. But as the eyes of Miss Clarissa continuedto dwell upon him in some admiration, she told herself that theresemblance did not end with the clothes, after all. His eyes were ofthe same blue, his hair of the same auburn as those of the man ofyesterday. Indeed, the man of yesterday might have been this man withtwenty years added on him, with the light of hope and ambition dimmedby contact with the world, and his youthful alertness and dashsucceeded by the resigned vacuity of one who has seen none of hisearly dreams realized. Again did Miss Clarissa ask if he would havehis purchases sent to his address, but this time it was not entirelycuriosity and the perfunctory performance of a duty, for she wouldgladly have been of service to one of such a pleasing presence.Communing with himself for a moment, the young man said:
"On the whole, you may. But they must be delivered to me in person,into my own hands. I would take them, but I have a number of otherthings to take. Remember, they are to be delivered to me in person,"and he handed her a card which announced that his name was AsburyFuller and on which was written in lead pencil the address of a housein a quarter of the city which, once the most fashionable of all, hadsuffered from the encroachments of trade and where a few mansions yetoccupied by the aristocracy were surrounded by the deserted homes offamilies which had fled to the newer haunts of fashion, leaving theirformer abodes to be occupied by boarding mistresses, dentists,doctors, clairvoyants, and a whole host of folk whose names wouldnever be in the papers until their burial permits were issued.
Miss Clarissa did a very peculiar thing. It was already four o'clockof a Saturday afternoon. Instead of immediately giving the packageinto the hands of the delivery department, she retained it and, atclosing time, going to the room where ready made uniforms formessenger boys were kept, she purloined one. Now it must be known thatthe principal reason for doing a thing so unusual, not to sayindiscreet, was her desire to obey the young man's injunction to handthe razors into his own hands and no others. She had become possessedof the idea that some disaster would befall if the razors came intothe possession of any one else. Moreover, the stranger had humbled herin the contest of repartee, which, as a true woman, had made herentertain an admiration for him, and this and his strange disguisesand his unaccountable purchases had surrounded him with a mist ofromantic mystery she fain would penetrate. Some little time before, ithad been Miss Clarissa's misfortune, through sickness, to lose much ofher hair. It had now begun to grow again and resume its formerluxuriant abundance, but by removing several switches--of her ownhair--and the bolster commonly called a rat, and sleeking her hairdown hard with oil, she appeared as a boy might who was badly in needof a haircut. After a light supper, she set out alone for theresidence of Asbury Fuller and at the end of her journey found herselfat the gateway of a somber edifice, which was apparently the only onein the block that was inhabited. On either side and across the waywere vacant houses, lonesome and forbidding. Indeed, the residence ofAsbury Fuller was itself scarcely less lonesome and forbidding. Thegrass of the plot before it was long and unkempt and heavily coveredwith mats of autumn leaves. The bricks of the front walk were sunkenand uneven and the steps leading to the high piazza were deeplywarped, as by pools of water that had lain and dried on their unsweptsurface through many seasons. The blinds hung awry and the paint onthe great front doors was scaling, and altogether it was a fadedmagnificence, this of Asbury Fuller. She pulled the handle of thefront-door bell and in response to its jangling announcement came amaid.
"Asbury Fuller?" said the maid, omitting the "Mr." Miss Clarissa hadaffixed. "Go to the side door around to the right."
Wondering if this were a lodging house and Asbury Fuller had a privateentrance, or if it being his own house he had left word that callersshould be sent to the side door to prevent the delivery of the razorsbeing seen by others, Clarissa followed the walk through an avenue ofdead syringa bushes and came to the side door. The same maid who hadmet her before, ushered her in and presently she found herself in asmall apartment, almost a closet, standing at the back of AsburyFuller. But though small, she remarked that the apartment was one ofsome magnificence, for on all sides was a quantity of burnishedcopper, binding the edges of a row of shelves and covering the wholetop of a broad counter-like projection running along one side of thewall. Before this, Asbury Fuller was standing, assorting a number ofcut-glass goblets of various sizes and putting them upon silversalvers, bottles of various colo
red wines being placed upon eachsalver with the goblets. He turned at her entrance and the look of sadand gloomy abstraction sitting upon his countenance instantly changedto one of relief and joy.
"At last, at last," he exclaimed, in a deep tone which even more thanhis countenance betrayed his relief and joy. "It is almost too lateand I thought the young woman had not attended to sending them, thatshe had failed me."
"She would not fail you, sir," said Clarissa, earnestly, allowingherself in the protection her assumed character gave her the pleasureof giving utterance to her feeling of regard for the young man. "Shewould not fail, sir, she could not fail you. Oh, you wrong her, if youthink she could ever break her word to you."
Asbury Fuller bent an inscrutable look upon Clarissa and then biddingher remain until his return, hastily left the room. But though he wasgone, Clarissa sat gloating upon the mental picture of his manlybeauty. He seemed taller than before, for the stoop he had worn in theafternoon had now departed and he stood erect and muscular in the suitof full evening dress that set off his lithe, soldierly form to suchadvantage. His garb was of an elegance such as Clarissa had neverbefore beheld, and it was plain that the aristocracy affected certainadornments in the privacy of their homes which they did not caparisonthemselves with in public. Clarissa had seen dress suits inrestaurants and in theaters, but never before had she seen abottle-green dress coat with gold buttons and a velvet collar and avest with broad longitudinal stripes of white and brown. In a briefspace, Asbury Fuller returned, and glancing at his watch, he said:
"There is some time before the dinner party begins and I would like totalk with you. I am impressed by your apparent honesty andparticularly by the air of devotion to duty that characterizes you.The latter I have more often remarked in women than in the moreselfish sex to which we belong. We need a boy here. Wages, twentydollars a month and keep."
"Oh, sir, I should be pleased to come."
"Your duties will commence at once. Owing to the fact that this oldhouse has been empty for some time and the work of rehabilitating andrefurnishing it is far from completed, you cannot at present have aroom to yourself. You will sleep with John Klussmann, the hostler----"
"Oh, sir, I cannot do that," exclaimed Clarissa, starting up in alarm.
"John is a good boy and kicks very little in his sleep. But doubtlessyou object to the smell of horses."
"Oh, sir, let me do what is needed this evening and go home and I willcome back and work to-morrow and go home to-morrow night, and if bythat time you find I can have a room by myself, perhaps I will comepermanently."
"I don't smell of horses myself," said Asbury Fuller, musingly, towhich Clarissa making no response other than turning away her head tohide her blushes, he continued. "But two days will be enough. Indeed,to-night is the crucial point. I will not beat about the bush longer.I wish to attach you to my interests. I wish you to serve me to-nightin the crisis of my career."
"Oh, sir," said Clarissa, in the protection that her assumed charactergave her, allowing herself the privilege of speaking her realsentiments, "I am attached to your interests. Let me serve you.Command, and I will use my utmost endeavor to obey."
Asbury Fuller looked at her in surprise. Carried away by her feelingsand in the state of mental exaltation which the romance and mystery ofthe adventure had induced, she had made a half movement to kneel asshe thus almost swore her fealty in solemn tones.
"Why are you attached to my interests?" asked Asbury Fuller, somewhatdryly.
Alas, Clarissa could not take advantage of the protection her assumedcharacter gave her to tell the real reason. Only as a woman could shedo that, only as a woman could she say and be believed, "Because Ilove you."
"Why, some people are naturally leaders, naturally draw others tothem----"
"You cannot be a spy upon me, since no one knows who I am."
"A spy!" cried Clarissa, in a voice whose sorrowful reproach gaveconvincing evidence of her ingenuousness.
"I wrong you, I wrong you," said Asbury Fuller. "I will trust you. Iwill tell you what you are to do----"
"Butler," said a maid, poking her head in at the door, "it is time tocome and give the finishing touches to the table. It is almost timefor the dinner to be served," and without ado, Asbury Fuller sprangout of the room.
A butler! A butler! Clarissa sat stunned. It was thus that her herohad turned out. Could she tell the other girls in the store with anydegree of pride that she was keeping company with a butler? She hadreceived a good literary education in the high school at Muncie,Indiana, and was a young woman of taste and refinement. Could shemarry a butler? To be near her hero, she herself had just now beenwilling to undertake a menial position. But she had then imagined himto be a person of importance. This stage in her cogitations led her tothe reflection that her feelings were unworthy of her. Had her regardfor Asbury Fuller been all due to the belief that he was a person ofimportance, merely the worship of position, the selfish desire andhope--however faint--of rising to affluence and social dignity throughhim? Butler or no butler, Asbury Fuller was handsome, he wasdistinguished, his manner of speech was superior to that of any personshe had ever known. Butler or no butler, she loved him. Just now shehad hoped that he, rich and well placed, would overlook her poverty,and take her, friendless and obscure, for his bride. Could she giveless than she had hoped he would give? And then as butler, her chancesof winning him were so greatly increased.
In a short time, he returned. He told her she was to wait on the tableand instructed her how to serve the courses.
"The master will look surprised when he sees you instead of me. If heasks who you are, say the new page. But he will be too much afraid ofexciting the wonder of his guests to ask you any questions. I feelcertain that he will accept your presence without question, beingdesirous his guests shall not think him a tyro in the management of anestablishment like this. I feel certain that after dinner, his guestswill ask to see his collection of arms. Indeed, Miss Bording told himin my hearing last Monday that she accepted his invitation here oncondition that she be allowed to see the famous collection. You are tofollow them into the drawing-room after dinner. The master will notknow whether that is usual or not. If they do start to go to look atthe arms, you are to say, 'The collection of your former weapons, sir,has been placed in the first room to the left at the head of thestairs. The paper-hangers and decorators have been busy.' Then you areto lead the way into that room, which you will find dimly lighted.After that, I will attend to everything myself."
Although Clarissa could not but wonder at the strangeness of herinstructions and to be somewhat alarmed at the evidences of a plot inwhich she was to be an agent, she agreed, for though her regard forAsbury Fuller would have been sufficient to cause such acquiescence,so great was her curiosity to have solved the mysteries whichsurrounded that individual, that this alone would have gained herconsent.
There were but two guests at the table of Mr. William Leadbury--JudgeVolney Bording, and his daughter, Eulalia Bording. Mr. Leadbury cast alook of surprise and displeasure as he saw Clarissa serving the firstcourse, but he quickly concealed these emotions and proceeded toplunge into an animated conversation with his guests. Indeed, itassumed the character of a monologue in which he frequently advertedto the weather, to be off on a tangent the next moment on a discussionof finance, politics, sociology, on which subjects, however, he wasfar from showing the positiveness and fixed opinion that he did whiledescanting upon the weather. In all the subjects he touched upon, heexhibited a certain skill in so framing his remarks that they wouldnot run counter to any prejudices or opposite opinions of hisauditors, but the feelings of the auditors having been elicited,served as a preamble from which he could go on, warmly agreeing withtheir views in the further and more complete unfolding of his own. Hewas between twenty-seven and thirty years of age, of a somewhat sparefigure, and in the well-proportioned features of his face there was noone that would attract attention beyond the others and easily remainfixed in memory. He was not w
ithout an appearance of intelligence andhis chest was thrown out and the small of his back drawn in after themanner of the Prussian ex-sergeants who give instruction in athleticsand the cultivation of a proper carriage to the elite of this city,and withal he had the appearance of a person of substance and ofconsequence in his community. In the midst of a pause where he wasoccupied in putting his soup-spoon into his mouth, Miss Bordingremarked:
"Please do not talk about commonplace American subjects, Mr. Leadbury.Tell us of your foreign life. Tell us of Algeria. What sort of acountry is Algeria?"
Turning his eyes toward the chandelier about him and with an eleganceof enunciation that did much to relieve the undeniably monotonousevenness of his discourse, he began:
"Algeria, the largest and most important of the French colonialpossessions, is a country of northern Africa, bounded on the north bythe Mediterranean, west by Morocco, south by the desert of Sahara, andeast by Tunis. It extends for about five hundred and fifty miles alongthe coast and inland from three hundred to four hundred miles.Physiographically it may be roughly divided into three zones," and soon for a considerable length until by an accident which Clarissa couldattribute to nothing but inconceivable awkwardness, Judge Bordingdropped a glass of water, crash! Having ceased his disquisition atthis accident, so disconcerting to the judge, Miss Bording veryprettily and promptly thanked him for his information and saying thatshe now had a clear understanding of the principal facts pertaining toAlgeria, abruptly changed the subject by asking him if he had heardanything more concerning his second cousin, the barber.
"There is nothing more to be heard. He is dead. You know he came hereabout a week before I did. By the terms of my uncle's will, the fiveyears to be allowed to elapse before I was to be considered dead ordisappeared would have come to an end in a week after the time of myarrival, and the property have passed to him, my uncle's cousin. Bythe greatest luck in the world, I had become homesick and throwing upmy commission in the Foreign Legion, or Battalion D'Etranger, as wehave it in French, which is, as you may know, a corps of foreignersserving under the French flag, mainly in Algeria, but occasionally inother French possessions--throwing up my commission, I came home,bringing with me my famous collection of weapons and the fauteuil ofAb del Kader, the armchair, you understand, of the great Arab princewho led the last revolt against France. It was not all homesickness,either. Among the men of all nationalities serving in the ForeignLegion, are many adventurous Americans, and a young Chicagoan,remarking my name, apprised me of the fact that perhaps I was heir toa fortune in Chicago. I came," continued Leadbury, looking down towardhis lap, where Clarissa saw he held a clipping from a newspaper, "andtook apartments at the Bennington Hotel, where, when seen by therepresentatives of the 'Commercial Advertiser,' the followinginteresting facts were brought out in the interview: 'WilliamLeadbury'--your humble servant--" he interjected, "'is the only son ofthe late Charles Leadbury, only brother of the late millionaire ironmerchant, James Leadbury. Upon his death, James Leadbury left hisentire property'--but," said Leadbury, looking up, "I have previouslycovered that point."
"But tell us of your weapons," interposed Miss Bording.
"Oh, yes, that seems to interest you," and deftly sliding the clippingalong in his fingers, he resumed: "'The collection of weapons is oneof the most interesting and remarkable collections in the UnitedStates, for, though not large, its owner can say, with pardonablepride, "every bit of steel in that collection has been used by me inmy trade."'"
"Ah, how proud you must be," mused Miss Bording. "I read somethinglike that in the papers, myself. Just to think of it! Every bit ofsteel in that collection has been used by you in your trade. What astrange affectation you military men have in calling your profession atrade! But, Captain Leadbury, tell me of your cousin, who disappearedtwo days after your arrival, and why you shaved your moustache whichthe papers described you as having."
"A moustache is a bother," said Leadbury. "As to my cousin, why,overcome by disappointment, he took to drink. He disappeared from hislodgings on Rush Street two days after my arrival, at the close of atwenty-four hours' debauch. It was found he had shipped as a sailor onthe Ingar Gulbrandson, lumber hooker for Marinette, and theGulbrandson was found sunk up by Death's Door, at the entrance toGreen Bay, her masts sticking above water. Her crew had utterlydisappeared. That was three months ago and neither hide nor hair ofany of them has been seen since. Poor Anderson Walkley is dead! Werehe alive, I would be glad to assist him. But he was a rover, neverlong in one place--a few months here, a few months there--and now heis at rest and I believe he is glad, I believe he is glad."
The second course consisted of turkey, and Clarissa was astounded, asshe deposited the dishes of the course, to see Asbury Fuller swiftlyenter the door upon all-fours and with extreme celerity and cat-likelightness, flit across the room and esconce himself behind a hugearmchair upholstered in velvet, and her astonishment increased and wastinged with no small degree of terror, as she observed the chair,noiselessly and almost imperceptibly, progress across the floor,propelled by some hidden force, until it reached a station behind themaster of the house. Captain Leadbury began to carve the turkey andClarissa was astonished more than ever to hear, in the Captain'svoice, though she was sure his lips were shut,
"Would you like a close shave, Miss Bording?"
The sound of the carving-knife dropping upon the platter as Leadburystarted in some sudden spasm of pain, was drowned by the silverylaughter of Miss Bording, saying,
"Oh, don't make fun of the profession of your poor cousin, Captain,"and the look of disquiet upon Leadbury's face was quickly relieved andhe joined heartily and almost boisterously in the merriment. A momentlater, Clarissa was alarmed to find him bending upon herself a look inwhich suspicion, distrust, fear, and hatred all were blended.
Judge Volney Bording, ornament to the legal profession, was a heartyeater, and it was not long before he sent his plate for a secondhelping, and again Clarissa heard from the closed lips of Leadbury, ina voice that seemed to float up from his very feet:
"Next. Next. You're next, Miss Bording. What'll it be?"
Leadbury half rose, looking toward Clarissa with a glance of mostviolent anger, but whatever he would have said, was again interruptedby the silvery laugh of Miss Bording, and again Leadbury joinedheartily, almost boisterously. But though he regained hisself-possession and his brow became serene, Clarissa saw in his eyethat which told he had a reckoning in store for her when once theguests were out of the house, but that in the meantime he woulddissemble the various unpleasant emotions with which his mind wasfilled. The rest of the dinner passed without untoward event. The hugearmchair by imperceptible degrees retired to its former position, andas Clarissa set down the dessert, she saw Asbury Fuller, with a graceunusual and not to be expected of one in such a posture, proceedingquickly and silently out of the room upon all-fours.
Mindful of her instructions, Clarissa accompanied the party when,rising from the table, they withdrew to the drawing-room. It wasmanifest that her presence caused Leadbury some uneasiness and helooked now at her and now at his guests with an inquiring andperturbed countenance, but in the calm faces of the judge and hisdaughter he could detect nothing to indicate that they thought thepresence of the page at all strange, and little by little he recoveredhis good spirits and related some interesting anecdotes of a bulldoghe once owned and of a colored person who stole a guitar from him. Butthough Miss Bording gave a courteous and interested attention andlaughed at the anecdotes of the dog, she irked at the necessity ofsilence, which the garrulity of her host placed her under and wasdesirous of having the conversation become general and of a moreentertaining, elevated and instructive character. As the narration ofthe episode of the colored person came to an end, she hastilyexclaimed:
"Captain, you promised to show us your collection. It is nearing thetime when we must go home, for father has had to-day to listen to anunparalleled amount of gabble and is very tired."
"I will show the collection
to you with great pleasure," saidLeadbury, and at this juncture, Clarissa, remembering herinstructions, said:
"The collection of your former weapons, sir, has been placed in thefirst room at the left at the head of the stairs. The paperhangers anddecorators have been busy." And then she proceeded to lead the wayinto the hall and up the broad funereal staircase that led above.Dimly burned the lights in the hall. Dimly burned a gas jet in theroom whose door stood open at the left.
"Oh, yes," said Leadbury, gaily, responding to a remark of MissBording, as they entered the room and saw the uncertain shape of alarge chair vaguely looming in the gloom; "I secured the fauteuil ofAb del Kader after we had stormed the last stronghold of thatunfortunate prince. But interesting as this relic is, I put no valueupon it in comparison with the weapons, for every bit of steel in thecollection has been used by me in my trade."
As he said these words, he turned on the gas at full head and thelight blazed forth to be shot back from an array of polished steelfestooned upon the wall, a glittering rosette, but not of sabres andscimetars, yataghans, rapiers, broadswords, dirks and poniards,pistols, fusils and rifles. No! _Razors and scissors!_ Before thisarray sat a great red velvet barber's chair, and near them on the wallwas a board, bearing little brass hooks, upon each of which hung agreen ticket.
In the unexpected revelation that had followed the flare of light, alleyes were turned upon William Leadbury, swaying back and forward withone hand clinging to the big chair, as if ready to swoon. A sickly,cringing grin played over his face, suddenly come all a-yellow, andhis long tongue was flickering over his pale lips. But all at once hismuscles sprang tense and a malignant anger tightened his quiveringfeatures and turning upon Clarissa, he hissed:
"You did this. You exposed me, you exposed me," and he was about toleap at the terrified girl, when a ringing voice cried, "Stop!" andthere was Asbury Fuller standing in the doorway with the broad redcordon of a Commander of the Legion of Honor across his breast and aglittering rapier in his hand. Clarissa could have fallen at his feet,he looked so handsome and grand, and she could have scratched out theeyes of Eulalia Bording, whose gaze betrayed an admiration equal toher own. Asbury Fuller, yet not wearing quite his wonted appearance,for the luxuriant locks of auburn had gone and his head was coveredwith a short, though thick crop of chestnut.
"You exposed yourself. Harmless would all this have been, powerless tohurt you, if you had kept your self-possession and turned it off as ajoke--your own. But your abashed mien, your complete confusion, yourutter disconcertment, betrayed you, even if you had no longer left anyquestion by crying out that you have been exposed. Yes, exposed,Anderson Walkley, by the sudden confronting of you with the implementsof your craft, the weapons you had _used_ in _your_ trade, and thebelief thus aroused in your guilty mind that your secret was known,that your identity had been detected."
"Asbury Fuller, what business is it of yours?" and Leadbury snatchedup a large pair of hair clippers and waved them with a menacinggesture.
"Everyman to the weapons of his trade," exclaimed Asbury Fuller, andthe hair clippers seemed suddenly enveloped in a mass of white flame,as the rapier played about them. Cling, clang, across the room flewthe clippers, twisted from Leadbury's hand as neatly as you please.
"Asbury Fuller?" cried the Commander of the Legion of Honor. "AsburyFuller?" and he deftly fastened beneath his nose an elegant falsemoustache with waxed ends.
With his hands before his eyes as if to forefend his view from somedreadful apparition, the man in the corner sank upon his knees,gibbering, "William Leadbury, come back from the dead!"
"William Leadbury, alive and well, here to claim his own from you,Anderson Walkley, outlaw and felon. Your plans were well-laid, but Iam not dead. You signed the papers of the Ingar Gulbrandson in yourproper person. Then as she was about to sail, I was brought aboardostensibly drunk, but really drugged, under the name of AndersonWalkley. The Gulbrandson was found sunk. Her crew of four had utterlydisappeared. Dead, of course. The records gave their names. I hadbecome Anderson Walkley and was dead. You had seized my property andmy identity. I had been in Chicago but two days and no one had becomefamiliar enough with my appearance to make any question when you withyour clean-shaven face came down on the morning after mykidnaping and told the people at the hotel that you were WilliamLeadbury and had shaved your moustache off over night. Whateverdifference they might have thought they saw, was easily explained bythe change occasioned by the removal of your moustache. Had yourminions been as intelligent as they were villainous, your scheme wouldhave succeeded. It was necessary to drug me anew on the voyage, as theeffects were wearing off. They did not drug me enough, and when theyscuttled the old hulk and rowed ashore to flee with their blood money,the cold water rising in the sinking vessel awoke me, brought me tofull consciousness, and I easily got ashore on some planking. I saw atonce what the plot had been. I realized I had a desperate man to dealwith. I had no money and it would take me some time to get fromnorthern Wisconsin to Chicago. In the meantime, every one would havecome to believe you William Leadbury, and who would believe me, theragged tramp, suddenly appearing from nowhere and claiming to be theheir? You would be coached by your lawyers, have time to concoct lies,to manufacture conditions that would color your claim, and in courtyou would be self-possessed and on your guard. Therefore I felt that Imust await the psychological moment when you could be taken off yourguard, when, surprised and in confusion, you would betray yourself. Isecured employment as your butler, the psychological moment came, andyou stand, self-convicted, thief and would-be murderer."
"Send for the police at once," said Judge Bording.
"No," said the late captain in the Foreign Legion. "He may reform. Iwish him to have another chance. That he may have the wherewithal toearn a livelihood, I present him with the contents of this room, themeans of his undoing. In my uncle's library are many excellenttheological works of a controversial nature, and these, too, I presentto him, as a means of turning his thoughts toward better things. Iwill not send for the police. I will send for a dray. Judge Bording,by the recent concatenation of events, I am become the host. Let usleave Walkley here to pack his effects, and return to thedrawing-room."
Clarissa preceded the others as they slowly descended, with all herears open to hear whatsoever William Leadbury might say to EulaliaBording, and it was so that she noted a strange little creaking abovethem, and looking up, saw poised upon the edge of the balustrade inthe upper hall, impending over the head of William Leadbury and readyto fall, the great barber chair! With a swift leap, she pushed him tothe wall, causing him to just escape the chair as it fell with adreadful crash. But she herself was not so fortunate, for with awicked tunk the cushioned back of the chair struck her a glancing blowthat felled her senseless upon the stairs.
Judge Bording flew after the dastardly barber, who swifter still, wasdown the backstairs and out of the house into the darkness before theJudge could lay hands upon him.
The judge, his daughter, and William Leadbury, bent over theunconscious form of the page.
"He saved your life," said the judge. "The wood and iron part wouldhave hit your head."
"His breath is knocked out of him," said Miss Bording.
"He saved my life. I cannot understand his strange devotion. I cannotunderstand it," said William Leadbury, the while opening the page'svest, tearing away his collar, and straining at his shirt, that thestunned lungs might have play and get to work again. The stifflystarched shirt resisted his efforts and he reached in under it todetach the fastenings of the studs that held the bosom together. Backcame his hand as if it had encountered a serpent beneath that shirtfront.
"I begin to understand," he exclaimed, and bending an enigmatical lookupon the startled judge and his daughter, he picked the page up in hisarms with the utmost tenderness, and bore him away.
* * * * *
The pains in Clarissa's body had left her. Indeed, they had all butgone when on Sunday morning, after a
night which had been one offormless dreams where she had not known whether she slept or waked orwhere she was, a frowsy maid had called her from the bed where she laybeneath a blanket, fully dressed, and told her it was time she wasgetting back to the city. Not a sign of William Leadbury as she passedout of the great silent house. Not a word from him, no inquiry for thewelfare of the little page who had come so nigh dying for him.Clarissa was too proud to do or say anything to let the frowsy maidguess that she wondered at this or cared aught for the ungratefulcaptain. She steeled her heart against him, but though as the dayswent by she succeeded in ceasing to care for one who was so unworthyof her regard, she could not stifle the poignant regret that he wasthus unworthy.
It had come Friday evening, almost closing time in the great store.Slowly and heavily, Clarissa was setting her counter in order,preparing to go to her lodgings and nurse her sick heart until slumbershould give respite from her pain, when there came a messenger fromthe dress-making department asking her presence there.
"We've just got an order for a ready-made ball-dress for a lady thatis unexpectedly going to the Charity Ball to-night," said Mrs.McGuffin, head of the department. "The message says the lady is justyour height and build and color--she noticed you sometime, itseems--and that we are to fit one of the dresses to you, making suchalterations as would make it fit you, choosing one suitable to yourcomplexion. When it's done, to save time, you are to go right to theperson who ordered it, without stopping to change your clothes. Youcan do that there. It will make her late to the ball, at best. Acarriage and a person to conduct you will be waiting."
It was a magnificent dress that was gradually built upon the figure ofClarissa, and when at last it was completed and she stood before thegreat pier glass flushed with the radiance of a pleasure she could notbut feel despite her late sorrow and the fact she was but the layfigure for a more fortunate woman, one would have to search far tofind a more beautiful creature.
"Whyee!" exclaimed Mrs. McGuffin. "Why, I had no idea you had such afigure. Why, I must have you in my department to show off dresses on.You will work at the cutlery counter not a day after to-morrow. Butthere, I am keeping you. The ball must almost have begun. Here's a bagwith your things in it. I was going to say, 'your other things.'" Andthrowing a splendid cloak about the lovely shoulders of Miss Clarissa,Mrs. McGuffin turned her over to the messenger.
There was already somebody in the carriage into which Clarissastepped, but as the curtain was drawn across the opposite window, shewas unable to even conjecture the sex of the individual who was to beher conductor to her destination, and steeped in dreams which frompleasant ones quickly passed to bitter, she speedily forgot all aboutthe person at her side. But presently she perceived their carriage hadcome into the midst of a squadron of other carriages charging downupon a brilliantly lighted entrance where men and women, brave inevening dress, were moving in.
"Why, we are going to the ball-room itself," and as she said this andrealized that here on the very threshold of the entrancing gayetiesshe was to put off her fine plumage and see the other woman pass outof the dressing-room into the delights beyond, while she crept away inher own simple garb amid the questioning, amused, and contemptuousstares of the haughty dames who had witnessed the exchange, she brokeinto a piteous sob.
"Why, of course to the ball-room, my darling," breathed a voice, whichlow though it was, thrilled her more than the voice of an archangel,and she felt herself strained to a man's heart and her bare shoulders,which peeped from the cloak at the thrust of a pair of strong armsbeneath it, came in contact with the cool, smooth surface of the bosomof a dress shirt. "Don't you remember that I engaged the secondtwo-step at the Charity Ball?"
Clarissa, almost swooning with joy as she reclined palpitating uponthe manly breast of Captain William Leadbury, said never a word, forthe power of speech was not in her; the power of song, of utteringpeans of joy, perhaps, but not the power of speech.
"Have I assumed too much," said Leadbury, gravely, relaxing somewhatthe tightness of his embrace. "Have I, arguing from the fact that youboth served me in the crisis of my career and saved my life, assumedtoo much in believing you love me? If so, I beg your pardon forarranging this surprise. I will release you. I----"
"Oh, no," crooned Clarissa, nestling against him with all thequivering protest of a child about to be taken from its mother. "Youread my actions rightly. Oh, how I have suffered this week. No wordfrom you. I could not understand it. Of course you could not know Iwas a girl. But I thought you ought to be grateful, even to a boy."
"But I did know you were a girl. When you fell, I began to open theclothes about your chest. When I discovered your sex, I carried youupstairs, placed you on a bed, threw a blanket over you and was aboutto call Miss Bording to take charge of you----"
"I'm glad you didn't. I don't like Miss Bording," said Clarissa.
"I had left to call her, when that poltroon of an Anderson Walkley,who had stolen back into the house after running from it, crept behindme and struck me back of the ear with a shaving mug. I droppedunconscious. In the resulting confusion, your very existence was asforgotten as your whereabouts was unknown. You lay there as I had leftyou until a maid found you in the morning and packed you off. It wasnot until Wednesday that I was able to be out. I knew you came fromthis store, and mousing about in there, I had no trouble inidentifying the nice young page with the beautiful young woman at thecutlery counter. I could scarce wait two days, but as three hadalready passed, I planned this surprise, remembering our banter when Italked with you, disguised as a man of fifty, and now you are to go inwith me as my affianced bride. We'd better hurry, for the driver mustbe wondering what we are thinking about."
It was worthy of remark that even the ladies passed many complimentsupon the beauty and grace of Miss Clarissa Dawson, the young woman whocame to the ball with William Leadbury, former captain in the army ofthe Republique Francaise, heir to the millions of the late JamesLeadbury, and a number of persons esteemed judges of all that pertainsto the Terpsichorean art, declared that when she appeared upon thefloor for the first time, which was to dance the second two-step withthe gallant soldier, that such was the surpassing grace with which sherevolved over the floor that one might well say she seemed to bedancing upon air.
The Strange Adventures of Mr. Middleton Page 10
