CHAPTER XIII.
BEFORE THE WEDDING.
"Two weeks after this I was sitting beside my solitary hearth, musingupon my misery and longing for the blessed relief of sleep. There was noone with me in the house. I had dismissed every servant; for I wouldhave no spies about me, prying into my misery; and though I could notkeep the world of men and women from my doors, I could at least refuseto admit them; and this I did--living the life of a recluse almost asmuch as I do here, but with less ease, because the wind would bringwhispers, and the walls were not thick enough to shut out from my fancythe curious glances I felt to be cast upon them by every passer-by thatwandered through the street.
"On this night I had been thinking of Miss Dudleigh, of whose visiblyfailing health various murmurs had reached me, and I felt,notwithstanding my determination to hold myself aloof from every one andeverything that could in any way reopen my still smarting wound, Icould more easily find the sleep I longed for if some word from thegreat house would relieve the suspense in which my ignorance kept me.But I would not go there if I died of my anxiety, nor would I stoop toquestion any of the market men or women, who were the only personsadmitted now within my doors.
"The clock was striking, and the strange sense of desolation which isinseparable from this sound to a solitary man (you see I have no clockhere) was stealing over me, when I heard a tap on one of the windowsoverlooking my small garden, and a voice came through the lattice,crying:
"'Massa--Massa Felt.'
"I knew the voice at once. It was that of one of Miss Dudleigh'sservants, an honest black, who had always been devoted to me from theday he did me some trifling service with Miss Leighton. Hearing it now,and after such thoughts, I was so moved by the promise it gave of newsfrom the one quarter I desired, that I stumbled as I rose, and founddifficulty in answering him. Nor did I recover my self-possession forhours; for the story he had to tell--after numerous apologies for hispresumption in disturbing me--was so significant of coming evil that mymind was thrown again into turmoil, and the passions which I had triedto smother were roused again into action.
"It was simply this: That one evening after Mr. Urquhart's departure,and the extinguishing of all the lights in the house, he had occasion tocross the garden. That in doing this he had heard voices, and, steppingcautiously forward, perceived, lying upon the snow-covered ground, neara certain belt of evergreens, the shadows of two persons, whose formswere hidden from his sight. Being both curious and concerned, he haltedbefore coming too close and, listening, heard Mr. Urquhart's voice, andpresently that of Miss Leighton, both speaking very earnestly.
"'Will you undertake it? Can you go through with it without shrinking?'was what the former had said.
"'I will undertake it, and I can go through with it,' was what thelatter had replied.
"Frightened at a discovery which might mean nothing and which might meanmisery to a mistress the day of whose marriage was scarcely a monthaway, the negro held his breath, determined to hear more. He wasimmediately rewarded by catching the words: 'You are a brave girl andmy queen!' and then something like a prayer for a kiss, or some suchfavor, as a seal to their compact. But to this she returned a vigorous'No,' followed by the mysterious sentence: 'I shall give you nothingtill I am dead, and then I will give you everything.'
"After which they made a move as if to separate, which action so alarmedthe now deeply disconcerted negro that he drew back in haste, hidingbehind some neighboring bushes till they had passed him and disappeared,he out of the gate, and she through the small side entrance into thehouse. This was the previous night, and for nearly twenty-four hours thepoor negro had tortured himself as to what he should do with theinformation thus surreptitiously gained. He lacked the courage to tellhis mistress, and finally he had thought of me, who was her best friend,and who must have known there was something amiss with Miss Leighton, orwhy had I not married her when everything was ready and the ministerwaiting with his book in his hand?
"Not answering this insinuation, I put to him one or two of the manyquestions that were burning in my brain. Had he told any of the otherservants what he had seen? And did Miss Dudleigh look as if shesuspected there was anything wrong?
"He answered that he had not dared to speak a word of it even to hiswife; and as for Miss Dudleigh, she was ill so much of the time that itwas hard to tell whether she had any other cause for uneasiness or not.He only knew that she was greatly changed since this miserable deceivercame into the house.
"I believed him, and amid all my struggle and wrath tried to fix my mindupon her alone. I succeeded only partially, but enough to enable me towrite this line, which I entreated him to carry to her:
'HONORED MISS DUDLEIGH--You will forgive me if I overstep the bounds of friendship in yielding to the inner voice which compels me to say that if before or on your marriage day you need advice or protection, you may command both from
Your respectful servant, 'MARK FELT.'
"I did not expect a reply to this note, and I did not receive any. Ithought I went as far as my position toward her allowed, but I havequestioned it since--questioned if I should not have told her what thenegro had heard and seen, and let her own judgment decide her fate. ButI was not in my right mind in those days. I was too much a part of allthis misery to be a fair judge of my own duty; and then the mysteriousnature of Miss Leighton's remark, the incomprehensibility of thewords--'I shall give you nothing till I am dead, and then I shall giveyou everything'--added such unreality to the scene, and awakened suchcurious conjectures, that I did not know where any of us stood, or towhat especial misery the future pointed.
"'Till she was dead!' What could she, what did she mean? She would thengive him everything! Ah! ah!--when she was dead! Well, so be it.Meanwhile, there was no prospect of death for any one, unless it was forMiss Dudleigh, whom rumor acknowledged to be still fading, thougheverything was being done for her comfort, and physician after physicianemployed.
"I saw Caesar once again in these days. I met him in the street,seemingly greatly to his delight, for he smiled till his teeth shonefrom ear to ear, and made haste to remark, in quite a jovial voice:
"'I specs it's all right, massa. Massa Urquhart never looks at MissLeighton now, but always doin' his best for missus, making her smilequite happy when she isn't coughing that dreadful cough. We will have agay wedding yet. Yes; Miss Leighton seems to spect that; for she all detime making pretty things and trying them on missus, and laughing andcheering her up, just as if she didn't spect any one to die.'
"Yes, but this change of manner frightened me. I grew feverishlyanxious, and spent night and day in asking myself unanswerablequestions. Nor did these in any way abate when one day I was startled bythe tidings that all preparations for refitting the great house hadstopped; that the doctors had decided that Miss Dudleigh must remove toa warmer climate, and that accordingly upon her marriage she and herhusband would set sail for the Bermudas, there to take up their abodetill her health was quite restored. I doubted my ears; I doubted thefacts; I doubted Urquhart, and I doubted one other most of all whosename I find it hard to mention even to myself.
"Yet I should not have doubted her; I should have remembered the flamethat was always burning in the depths of her eyes, and had confidencein that, if in nothing else. What if she had always been cold to me; shewas not cold to him, and I should have known this and prepared myself.But I did not. I knew neither the extent of his villainy nor that of herdespair. Had I done so, I might not have been crouching here adisappointed and hopeless man, while she--
"But I am running beyond my tale. After the news I had just imparted, Iheard nothing more till the very week of the wedding. Then one of MissDudleigh's servants came to me with a note, the result of which was,that I walked out in the afternoon, and that she passed me in hercarriage, and seeing me, stopped the horses and took me in, and that werode on a short distance together.
"'I wish to talk to you,' she said. 'I
wish to proffer you a request; tobeg of you a favor. I want you,' she stammered and her eyes filled withtears, 'to see me married.'
"I opened my eyes with a quick denial, but I closed them again withoutspeaking. After all, why not please her? Could I suffer more at thiswedding than in thinking over it in my dungeon of a room at home? Shewould be there, of course, but I need not look at her; and if he or shemeditated any treachery, where ought I to be but in the one place wheremy presence would be most useful? I decided to gratify Miss Dudleigh,almost before the inquiry in her eyes had changed to a look of suspense.'Yes, I will come,' said I.
"She drew a deep breath, and smiled with tender sweetness.
"'I thank you,' she rejoined. 'I thank you most deeply and most truly. Ido not know why I desired it so much. Possibly because I feel somethinglike a sister to you, possibly because I feel afraid--'
"She stopped, blushing. 'I do not mean afraid. Why should I feel afraid?Edwin is very good to me; very good. I did not know he could be soattentive.' And she sighed.
"I felt that sigh go through and through me. Looking at her I took asudden resolution.
"'Honora,' I said (I had never called her by her first name before), 'donot give your happiness into Edwin Urquhart's keeping. You have yetthree days before you for reconsideration. Break your bonds, and,unhampered by uncongenial ties, seek in another climate for that peaceof mind you will never enjoy here or elsewhere as his wife.'
"She stared at me for a moment with wide-open and appealing eyes; thenshe shook her head, and answered quietly:
"'One broken-off wedding in the family is enough. I cannot shock societywith another. But, oh, Mark! why did you not warn me at first? I think Iwould have listened; I think so.'
"'Forgive me,' I entreated. 'You know it would have been presumptuous inme at first; afterward she stood in the way.'
"'I know,' she answered, and turned away her head.
"I saw she did not wish me to leave her yet; so I said:
"'You are going away; you are going to leave Albany.'
"'I must, or so Edwin thinks. He says I will never recover in thisclimate.'
"'Do you wish to go?'
"'Yes; I think I do. I can never be happy here, and perhaps when we arefar away, and have only each other to think of, the love and confidenceof which I have dreamed may come. At all events, I comfort myself withthat hope.'
"'But it is a long, long sea voyage. Have you strength enough to carryyou through?'
"'If I have not,' she intimated, with a mournful smile, 'he will befree, and I released without scandal from a marriage that fills you withapprehension.'
"'Oh,' I cried, 'would I were your brother indeed! This should never goon.' Then impelled by what I thought to be my duty, I inquired: 'Andyour money, Honora?'
"She flushed, but answered in the same spirit in which I had spoken.
"'As little of it as may be will remain with him. That much my oldguardian insisted upon. Do not ask me any more questions, Mark.'
"'None of a nature so personal,' I promised. 'But there is onething--can you not guess what it is?--which I ought to know. It is aboutMarah.'
"The words came with effort, and hurt her as much as me. But sheanswered bravely:
"'She returns to Schenectady the same day that we depart. I hoped shewould not linger to the wedding, but she seems to have a strange desireto face again the people who have talked about her so freely these lastfew weeks. So what can I say to dissuade her?'
"'Let her stay,' I muttered; 'but let her beware how she behaves on thatday, for there will be two eyes watching her, prompt to see anytreachery, and prompt, too, to avenge it.'
"'You will have nothing to avenge,' murmured Honora; 'that is all in thepast.'
"I prayed to Heaven she might be right, and ere long bowed in adieu andleft her. I saw neither herself nor any one else again till I enteredthe Dudleigh mansion three days later to witness her nuptials."
The Forsaken Inn: A Novel Page 13
