Who?

by Elizabeth Kent

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE STORY OF A WRONG

  Cyril waited for her to continue, but for a long time it seemed doubtfulif she would have the courage to do so.

  "I am looking," she said at last, speaking slowly and with a visibleeffort, "for a paper which will tell me whether my--son is alive ordead."

  "Your son? So you were his Lordship's mistress----"

  "Before God I was his wife! I am no wanton, my lord!"

  "The old story--" began Cyril, but Valdriguez stopped him with a furiousgesture.

  "Do not dare to say that my child's mother was a loose woman! I will notpermit it. Arthur Wilmersley--may his Maker judge him as hedeserves--wrecked my life, but at least he never doubted my virtue. Heknew that the only way to get me was to marry me."

  "So he actually married you?" exclaimed Cyril.

  "No--but for a long time I believed that he had. How could a young,innocent girl have suspected that the man she loved was capable of suchcold-blooded deception? Even now, I cannot blame myself for havingfallen into the trap he baited with such fiendish cunning. Think ofit--he induced me to consent to a secret marriage by promising that if Imade this sacrifice for his sake, he would become a convert to myreligion--my religion! And as we stood together before the altar, Iremember that I thanked God for giving me this opportunity of saving asoul from destruction. I never dreamed that the church he took me to wasnothing but an old ruin he had fitted up as a chapel for the occasion.How could I guess that the man who married us was not a priest but amountebank, whom he had hired to act the part?"

  Valdriguez bowed her head and the tears trickled through her thinfingers.

  "I know that not many people would believe you but, well--I do." Itseemed to Cyril as if the words sprang to his lips unbidden.

  "Then indeed you are a good man," exclaimed Valdriguez, "for it is givenonly to honest people to have a sure ear for the truth. Now it will beeasier to tell you the rest. Some weeks after we had gone through thisceremony, first Lord and then Lady Wilmersley died; on her deathbed Iconfided to my lady that I was her son's wife and she gave me herblessing. My humble birth she forgave--after all it was less humble thanher own--and was content that her son had chosen a girl of her own raceand faith. As soon as the funeral was over, I urged my husband toannounce our marriage, but he would not. He proposed that we should gofor a while to the continent so that on our return it would be taken forgranted that we had been married there, and in this way much unpleasanttalk avoided. So we went to Paris and there we lived together openly asman and wife, not indeed under his name but under mine. He pretendedthat he wanted for once to see the world from the standpoint of thepeople; that he desired for a short time to be free from therestrictions of his rank. I myself dreaded so much entering a class sofar above me that I was glad of the chance of spending a few more monthsin obscurity. For some weeks I was happy, then Lord Wilmersley began toshow himself to me as he really was. We had taken a large apartment nearthe Luxembourg, and soon it became the meeting-ground for the mostreckless element of the Latin Quarter. Ah, if you but knew what sights Isaw, what things I heard in those days! I feared that my very soul wasbeing polluted, so I consulted a priest as to what I should do. He toldme it was my duty to remain constantly at my husband's side; with prayerand patience I might some day succeed in reforming him. So I stayed inthat hell and bore the insults and humiliations he heaped upon mewithout a murmur. Now, looking back on the past, I think my meekness andresignation only exasperated him, for he grew more and more cruel andseemed to think of nothing but how to torture me into revolt. Whether Ishould have been given the strength to endure indefinitely, the life heled me I do not know, but one evening, when we were as usualentertaining a disreputable rabble, a young man entered. I recognisedhim at once. It was the man who had married us! He was dressed in abrown velveteen suit; a red sash encircled his waist; and on his arm heflaunted a painted woman. Imagine my feelings! I stood up and turned tomy husband. I could not speak--and he, the man I had loved, onlylaughed--laughed! Never shall I forget the sound of that laughter....

  "That night my child was born. That was twenty-eight years ago, but itseems as if it were but yesterday that I held his small, warm body in myarms.... Then comes a period of which I remember nothing, and when Ifinally recovered my senses, they told me my child was dead.... As soonas I was able to travel, I returned to my old home in Seville and thereI lived, working and praying--praying for my own soul and for that of mypoor baby, who had died without receiving the sacrament of baptism....Years passed. I had become resigned to my lot, when one day I received aletter from Lord Wilmersley. Oh! If I had only destroyed it unopened,how much anguish would have been spared me! But at first when I read it,I thought my happiness would have killed me, for Lord Wilmersley wrotethat my boy was not dead and that if I would meet him in Paris, he wouldgive me further news of him. I hesitated not a moment. At once did I setout on my journey. On arriving in Paris I went to the hotel he hadindicated and was shown into a private _salon_. There for the first timein a quarter of a century I saw again the man I had once regarded as myhusband. At first I had difficulty in recognising him, for now his truecharacter was written in every line of his face and figure. But I hardlygave a thought either to him or to my wrongs, so great was my impatienceto hear news of my son.... Then that fiend began to play with me as acat with a mouse. Yes, my boy lived, had made his way in the world--thatwas all he would tell me. My child had been adopted by some well-to-dopeople, who had brought him up as their own--no, I needn't expect tohear another word. Yes, he was a fine, strong lad--he would say nomore.... Can you imagine the scene? Finally, having wrought me up to thepoint where I would have done anything to wring the truth from him, hesaid to me: 'I have recently married a young wife and I am not such afool as to trust my honour in the keeping of a girl who married an oldman like me for his money. Now I have a plan to propose to you. Come andlive with her as her maid and help me to guard her from all eyes, and ifyou fulfil your duties faithfully, at the end of three years I promisethat you shall see your son.'

  "His revolting proposition made my blood boil. Never, never, I told him,would I accept such a humiliating situation. He merely shrugged hisshoulders and said that in that case I need never hope to hear what hadbecome of my son. I raved, threatened, pleaded, but he remainedinflexible, and finally I agreed to do his bidding."

  "So you, who call yourself a Christian, actually consented to help thatwretch to persecute his unfortunate young wife?" demanded Cyril sternly.

  Valdriguez flung her head back defiantly.

  "His wife? What was she to me? Besides, had she not taken him for betteror worse? Why should I have helped her to break the bonds her own vowshad imposed on her? He did not ill-treat her, far from it. He deprivedher of her liberty, but what of that? A nun has even less freedom thanshe had. What were her sufferings compared to mine? Think of it, dayafter day I had to stand aside and watch the man I had once looked uponas my husband, lavish his love, his thought, his very life indeed, onthat pretty doll. Although I no longer loved him, my flesh quivered atthe sight."

  "Nevertheless--" began Cyril.

  "My lord, I care not for your judgment nor for that of any man. I camehere to find my son. Would you have had me give up that sacred taskbecause a pink and white baby wanted to flaunt her beauty before theworld? Ah, no! Lady Wilmersley's fate troubles me not at all; but whatbreaks my heart is that, as Arthur died just before the three years wereup, I fear that now I shall never know what has become of my boy.Sometimes I have feared that he is dead--but no, I will not believe it!My boy lives! I feel it!" she cried, striking her breast. "And in thisroom--perhaps within reach of my hand as I stand here--is the paperwhich would tell me where he is. Ah, my lord, I beg, I entreat you tohelp me to find it!"

  "I will gladly do so, but what reason have you for supposing that thereis such a paper?"

  "It is true that I have only Lord Wilmersley's word for it," shereplied, and her voice sounded suddenly hopeless. "Y
et not once but manytimes he said to me: 'I have a paper in which is written all you wish toknow, but as I do not trust you, I have hidden it, yes, in this veryroom have I hidden it.' And now he is dead and I cannot find it! Oh,what shall I do? What shall I do?"

  "Even if we cannot find the paper, there are other means of tracing yourson. We will advertise----"

  "Never!" she interrupted him vehemently. "I will never consent to doanything which might reveal to him the secret of his birth. I would longago have taken steps to find him, if I had not realised that I could notdo so without taking a number of people into my confidence, and, if Idid that, the story of my shame would be bound to leak out. Not formyself did I care, but for him. Think of it, if what Lord Wilmersleytold me was true, he holds an honourable position, believes himself theson of respectable parents. Would it not be horrible, if he shouldsuddenly learn that he is the nameless child of a servant girl and avillain? The fear that he should somehow discover the truth is alwaysbefore me. That is why I made you swear to keep my secret."

  "Of course, I will do as you wish, but I assure you that you exaggeratethe risk. Still, let us first search this room thoroughly; then, if wedo not find the paper, it will be time enough to decide what we shall donext."

  "Ah, my lord, you are very good to me and may God reward you as youdeserve. Day and night will I pray for you." And to Cyril's dismay,Valdriguez suddenly bent down and covered his hands with kisses.