CHAPTER XXII.
"Certainly, Prince, I understand your motives and applaud yourdecision, which is creditable alike to your heart and head. Atfather's death he confided Kittie to my guardianship, and I cannotconsent to her scheme of going abroad with you, until your studies havebeen completed. She has a few thousands, it is true, but her slimfortune would not suffice to accomplish your scientific object, andeven if it were larger, you are quite right to decline with thanks'.Kittie must be patient, and you must be firm, for you are both quiteyoung enough to afford to wait a few years. Loving little heart! Shelonged to aid you, and this was the only method that presented itself.If we can secure the commission I mentioned last week, your marriageneed only be deferred until Kittie is twenty-one. After all, Prince,when you bartered your name and became a Darrington, for sake of thisfair heritage, you only accomplished early in life that into whichsooner or later all men are betrayed, the sale of a birthright for amess of pottage; the clutching at the shadowy present, thereby losingthe substantial future."
"On that score I indulge no regrets. General Darrington was the onlyfather I ever knew, and since it was his wish, I shall gladly wear thename with which he endowed me, in grateful recognition of theaffection, confidence and generous kindness he lavished upon me. Thatthe rich legacy he designed for me has been diverted into the channelof all others most repugnant to him, is my misfortune, not his fault;for ho took every possible precaution to secure my inheritance. Had Ibeen indeed his own son, he could not have done more, and I have ason's right to mourn sincerely over his cruel and untimely end."
The two men sat on the front steps at "Elm Bluff", and as Prince's eyeswandered over the exceeding beauty of the "great greenery" of velvetlawn, the stately, venerable growth of forest trees, wearing theadolescent mask of tender young foliage, the outlying fields flankingthe park, the sunny acres now awave with crinkling mantles of grain, hesighed very heavily at the realization of all that adverse fortune hadsnatched away.
Blond as Baldur of the Voluspa, with a wealth of golden brown beardveiling his lips and chin, he appeared far more than six years thejunior of the clear cut, smoothly shaven face that belonged to hisprospective brother-in-law; and their countenances contrasted asvividly as the portraiture of bland phlegmatic Norse Aesir, with somebronze image of Mercury, as keenly alert as his sacred symbolic cocks.
Strolling leisurely through the flowery decoying fields, that beckonall around the outskirts of the vast, lonely wilderness of positiveScience, the dewy freshness of the youthful amateur still clung toPrince's garments; even as souvenirs gathered by flitting Summertourists prattle of glimpses of wild, towering fastnesses, where strewnbones of martyr pioneers whiten as monuments of failure. In the guiseof a green-kirtled enchantress, with wild poppies and primroseswreathed above her starry eyes, Science was luring him through theborderland of her kingdom, toward that dark, chill, central realmwhere, transformed as a gnome, she clutches her votaries, plunges intothe primeval abyss-the matrix of time--and sets them the Egyptian taskof weighing, analyzing the Titanic "potential" energy, theinfinitesimal atomic engines, the "kinetic" force, the chemical motors,the subtle intangible magnetic currents, whereby in the thundering,hissing, whirling laboratory of Nature, nebulae grow into astral andsolar systems; the prophetic floral forms of crystals become, afterdisintegration, instinct with organic vegetable germs,--and the SphinxLife--blur-eyed--deaf, blind, sets forth on her slow evolutionaryjourney through the wastes of aeons; mounting finally into that throneof rest fore-ordained through groping ages, crowned with the soul ofShakspeare, sceptred with the brain of Newton.
Like a child with some Chinese puzzle far beyond the grasp of hissmooth, uncreased baby brain, Prince played in unfeigned delight withhis problem: "Given the Universe, to explain the origin and permanenceof Law," without any assistance from the exploded hypothesis of a lawmaker. Equipped with hammer, chisel, microscope, spectroscope andcrucibles, he essayed the solution, undismayed by memories of hisclassics, of Sisyphus and Tantalus; seeing only the nodding poppies,the gilded primroses of his dancing goddess.
Will he discover ere long, that a lesser riddle would have been tostand in the manufactory of the Faubourg St. Marcel, and abolishing thepattern of the designers, the directing touch of Lebrun, the restraintof the heddle, demand that the blind, insensate automatic warp andwoof should originate, design and trace as well as mechanically executethe weaving of the marvellous tapestries?
"Prince. I learn from Kittie that you visited the penitentiary lastweek."
"Yes. I could not resist the curiosity to see the author of my recentmisfortunes; but I regret the sight. I am haunted by the painfulrecurrence of that blanched, hopeless, beautiful face, which reminds meof a pathetic picture I saw abroad--Charlotte Corday peering throughthe bars of her dungeon window."
"With a difference surely! Marat's murderess gloried in her crime; aninnocent prisoner languishes yonder, in that stone cage beyond theriver."
Mr. Dunbar pointed over the billowing sea of green tree tops, toward anirregular dark shadow that blurred the northern sky line; and his eagleeyes darkened as they discerned the prison outlines.
"Did you ever see a sketch of Rossetti's 'Pandora'?" asked Prince.
"No."
"The face is somewhat like that young prisoner's; the same mystical,prescient melancholy in the wide eyes, as if she realized she waspredestine to work woe. I am heartily glad I was spared the pain of theprosecution, for had I been here, compassion would almost haveparalyzed the effort to secure justice; and now, while my loss isirreparable, the law insures punishment for father's wrongs. As I walkabout this dear old place, which he intended I should possess, andrecall all that we had planned, it seems hard indeed that I find myselfso unable to execute his wishes. After a few days, when I shall leaveit, I suppose that for the next five years the house will become an owlroost and den of bats and spiders. On Thursday I go temporarily toCharleston to visit my uncle, Doctor Thornton, who offers me a place inhis office, and a home at his hearthstone."
"Why specifically for five years?"
"That is the term of her imprisonment. At the expiration of hersentence, I presume Gen. Darringtor's grand-daughter will hasten totake possession of her dearly-bought domain."
A derisive smile unbent the tight lines of the lawyer's mouth.
"Come here to live? She would sooner spring into the jaws of hell!"
Prince Darrington's large light eyes opened wide, in a questioningstare.
"If she is innocent, as you believe, why should she shrink fromoccupying the family homestead? If she be guilty, which I (having seenher) cannot credit, there is no probability that remorseful scrupleswould influence her. No conceivable contingency can ever again make itmy home, and on Thursday I go away forever."
"That which a man claims and expects, generally deserts and betrayshim; it is the unforeseen, the unexpected that comes in the form ofbenediction. Time is the master magician, and 'Tout went a qui saitattendre'. Kittie may yet trail her velvet robe as chatelaine throughthese noble old halls and galleries. Come to my office at ten o'clocktomorrow; I may have an answer to my letter to Doctor Balfour."
Six months before, Mr. Dunbar had walked down these steps, mounted hishorse and hurried away to keep tryst with the fair, noble woman, whosepromised hand was the guerdon of ambitious schemes, and years ofpatient, persistent wooing. To-day he rode slowly to a partinginterview, which would sever the last link that Bad so long held theirlives in tender association. Whatever of regret mingled with thecontemplation of his ruined matrimonial castle, lay hidden so deep inthe debris, that no faintest reflection was visible in his inscrutableface.
When he reached the railway station where a special car containing asmall party, awaited the arrival of the north bound train that wouldattach it to its sinuous length, a number of friends had assembled tosay good-bye to the departing favorite. The announcement of MissGordon's extended yachting trip, had excited much comment in socialcircles, and while people w
ondered at the prolongation of theengagement, none but her immediate family suspected that the betrothalhad been cancelled.
Leo's wonted gracious composure betrayed no hint of the truth, and shegreeted Mr. Dunbar with outstretched hand and a friendly smile.
"I am indebted to your kind courtesy, Lennox, for the most auspiciousomen at the outset of my long journey; and I shall not attempt to tellyou how cordially I appreciate your tasteful souvenir. Your roses areexquisite, and fragrant as the message they bring me."
She glanced up at a large horseshoe made of her favorite pink roses,which had been hung by a silver wire directly over the seat sheoccupied.
"Will you give me your interpretation of their message?"
He swept aside a shawl and reticule, and sat down beside her.
"It is written legibly all over their lovely petals. You wish me arose-strewn itinerary, all conceivable forms of 'good luck'; as thoughyou stood on tip-toe and shouted after me: 'Gluck auf.' As a happyaugury, I accept it. Like the old Romans, you have offered up for me adainty sacrifice to propitiate Domiduca--the goddess who grantstravellers a safe return home."
"Meanwhile I hope you see quite as clearly, that the thorns have allbeen stripped off and set thickly along my path?"
Her smiling eyes met his steadily, and the brave heart showed noquailing.
"If I imagine that complimentary inference is written between thelines, is it not pardonable to welcome the assurance that you willsometimes be sharply pricked into remembrance of your absent friend?"
At this moment, with clanging bells and thundering wheels the trainswept in, and Leo rose to exchange last greetings with numerous friendsJudge Dent and Miss Patty accompanied her as far as New York, and whenthe car had been coupled at the end of the long line, and all was inreadiness, Mr. Dunbar took his companion's hand.
"When we parted last, I was angry and hasty. Now I desire to make onefarewell request. You ask a release from our engagement. I grant it. Ihold you perfectly free; but I will consider myself bound, pledged toyou until the expiration of one year. Nothing you can say shall altermy determination; but twelve months hence, if you can trust yourhappiness to my hands, send me this message: 'I wear your ring.' Oncemore I offer you my letter of confession. Will you receive it now; willyou look into the heart which I have bared for your scrutiny?"
"No. I voluntarily forfeited that right, when I asked my freedom. Ifyour letter contains aught that would change my high regard, myconfidence, my affectionate interest in your happiness, I am doublyanxious to avoid acquaintance with its contents. You have long held thefirst place in my esteem, why seek to impair my valuation of yourcharacter? Let us be friends, now and forever."
"Remember you broke your fetters; I hug mine--a year longer. Forget meif you will; but Leo, when your heart refuses to be strangled, sufferits cry to reach me. Whatever the future may decree, you shall alwaysbe my noble ideal of exalted womanhood, my own proud, sensitive,unselfish Leo; and from the depth of my heart I wish you a pleasanttour, and a safe and speedy return."
A premonitory thrill shook the ear, and dropping the fingers that laycold as marble in his, Mr. Dunbar swung himself to the stationplatform. The train moved off, but he knew that it would return inswitching, and so he stood hat in hand.
As it slowly glided back, he stepped close to the open window, andLeo's last look at the man she had loved so long and well, showed himwith the sun shining on his superb form, and coldly locked face. He sawher hazel eyes dim in their mist of unshed tears, and the sweet,blanched lips trembling from the spasm that held her heart. She leaneddown, laid her hand on his shoulder.
"Dear Lennox, open your hand carefully; there--hold it close. Good-bye."
Into his palm she dropped something; their faces almost touched, eyesmet, heart looked into heart; then Leo smiled and drew back, loweringher veil, and as the cars shivered, lurched, moved on, Mr. Dunbar puton his hat and unclosed his fingers.
The white fire leaping in the diamonds destroyed the last vestige of abetrothal, that he had once regarded as the summum bonum of hissuccessful career; consumed in its incipiency the farewell compact,which his regard for Leo's womanly pride, and an honorable desire tocling as closely as possible to at least the loyal forms of allegiance,had prompted him to impose upon himself.
Apparently unwounded, she would sail away victrix, with gay pennonsflying through distant summer seas, while he remained, stranded on thereefs of adverse fate, a target for cynical society batteries, a victimof the condolence of sympathizing friends.
In reality he felt the benignant touch of fortune still upon his head,and thanked her heartily that Leo had taken the initiative; that noovert act of disloyalty blurred his escutcheon, and above all, that hehad been spared the humiliation of acknowledging his inability toresist the strange fascination that dragged him from his allegiance, asAuroras swing the needle from the pole. He did not attempt to underratethe vastness of his loss, nor to condone the folly which he designatedas "infernal idiocy"; yet conscience acquitted him of intentionallybetraying the trust a noble woman had reposed; and his vanity wasappeased by the conviction that though Leo had cast him out of herlife, she went abroad because she loved him supremely. Putting the ringin his pocket, he turned away as from a grave that had closed foreverover that which once held ail the promise of life.
Three hours later, that carefully written letter acknowledging to hisfiancee that his heart had rebelliously swung from its moorings, underthe magnetic strain of another woman, and asking her tender forbearanceto aid him in conquering a weakness for which he blushed, had beenreduced to a drab shadow on his office hearth; and the lawyer wasengrossed by the preparation of a testamentary document, which embracedseveral pages of legal cap. Again and again he read it over, pausingnow and then as if striving to recall some invisible scroll, and atlast as if satisfied with the result, placed it in an envelope, thrustit into his pocket, and once more mounted his horse. The ceaseless andintense yearning to see again the young stranger, who seemed destinedto play the role of Ate in so many lives, would no longer be denied;and at a swift gallop he took the road leading to the penitentiary.
Four or five carriages were drawn up in front of the iron gate, andwhen, in answer to the bell, Jarvis, the underwarden, came forward toadmit Mr. Dunbar, he informed him that the State Inspectors were makinga tour of investigation through the building.
"I want to see Singleton."
"Just now he is engaged showing the inspectors around, and theygenerally turn everything upside down, and inside out. If you will stepinto the office and wait awhile, he will be at leisure."
"Where is Mrs. Singleton?"
"She has just gone into the women's workroom. One of the sewing gang isepileptic, and fell in a fit a few minutes ago, so I sent for her. Comethis way and I will find her."
The visitor hesitated, drew back.
"Is Miss Brentano there also?"
"No. She is still on the infirmary list."
Jarvis opened the door of a long, well-lighted but narrow room, in thecentre of which was a table extending to the lower end; and on eachside of it sat women busily engaged in stitching and binding shoes, andfinishing off various articles of clothing; while two were ticketing apile of red flannel and blue hickory shirts. Four sewing-machines stoodnear the wall where grated windows admitted sunshine, and their hymn toLabor was the only sound that broke the brooding silence. The room wasscrupulously clean and tidy, and the inmates, wearing the regulationuniform of blue-striped homespun, appeared comparatively neat; butsordid, sullen, repulsively coarse and brutish were many of thecountenances bent over the daily task, and now and then swift, furtiveglances from downcast eyes betrayed close kinship with lower animals.
At one of the machines sat a woman whose age could not have exceededtwenty-eight years, with a figure of the Juno type, and a beautifuldark face where tawny chatoyant eyes showed the baleful fire of aleopardess. Winding a bobbin, she leaned back in her chair, with theindolent, haughty grace of a sultana, and w
hen she held the bobbin upagainst the light for an instant, her slender olive hand and roundedwrist might have belonged to Cleopatra.
"Who is that woman winding thread?"
"Her name is Iva Le Bougeois, but we call her the 'Bloody Duchess'. Shewas sent up here two years ago, from one of the lower counties, forwholesale butchery. Seems her husband got a divorce, and was on the eveof marrying again. She posted herself about the second wedding, andmanaged to make her way into the parlor, where she hid behind thewindow curtains. Just as the couple stood up to be married, she cut herlittle boy's throat with a razor, dragged the body in front of thebride, and before any one could move, drew a revolver, blew the top ofher husband's head off, and then shot herself. The ball passed throughher shoulder and broke her arm, but as you see, she was spared, as manyanother wildcat has been. Her friends and counsel tried to proveinsanity, but the plea was too thin; so she landed here for a term oftwenty years, and it will take every day of it to cut her claws. She isas hard as flint, and her heart is as black as a wolf's mouth."
"Medea's wrongs generally end in Medea's crimes," answered the visitor;watching the defiant poise of the small shapely head, covered withcrisp, raven locks. Having less acquaintance with the classics thanwith the details of prison discipline, the under-warden stared.
After a moment he pointed to a diminutive figure standing at the end ofthe long table, and engaged in folding some white garments.
"See that pretty little thing, with the yellow head? Shouldn't you sayshe looks like an angel, and ought to be put on the altar to hear theprayers of sinners? Would you believe she is a mother? Arson is herhobby. She is a regular 'fire-bug'. She was adopted by a German couple,and one night, when the old farmer had come home with the money paidhim for his sheep and hogs, she stole the last cent he had, pocketedall the oold frau's silver spoons, poured kerosene around the floor,set fire to the house in several places, locked the door and ran forher life. A peddler happened to seek quarters for the night, andfinding the place on fire, managed to break through the windows andsave the old folks from being roasted alive. When the case came totrial it was proved that she had set fire to two other buildings, buton account of her youth had escaped prosecution. They could not hangher, though she deserved the gallows, and her child was born threemonths after she came here. Looks innocent as a wax doll doesn't she?Eve Werneth she calls herself; and she is well named after the originalmother of all sin. She is Satan's own imp, and we chain her everynight, for she boasts that when things grow tiresome to her she alwaysburns her way out. I think she is the worst case we have, except theyoung mulatto--I don't see her here just now--who was sent up for life,for poisoning a baby she was hired to nurse. There is Mrs. Singleton."
The warden's wife came forward with a vial in one hand, and at sight ofthe visitor, paused and held out the other.
"How'dy do, Mr. Dunbar. You are waiting to see Ned?"
"I much prefer seeing you, if you have leisure for an interview.Singleton can join us when the inspectors take their leave."
"Very well; come up stairs. Jarvis, send Ned up as soon as you can."
She led the way to the room where her two children were at play, andbreaking a ginger cake between them, dragged their toys into onecorner, and bade them build block houses, without a riot.
"I have never received even a verbal reply to the note which Irequested your husband to place in Miss Brentano's hands."
"Probably you never will. She took cold by being dragged back and forthto court during that freezing weather, and two days after herconviction she was taken ill with pneumonia. First one lung, then theother, and the case took a typhoid form. For six weeks she could notlift her head, and now though she goes about my rooms, and into theyard a little, she is awfully shattered, and has a bad cough, Once whenwe had scarcely any hope, she asked the doctor to give her no moremedicine; said that it would be a mercy to let her die. Poor thing! herproud spirit is as broken as her body, and the thought of being seenseems to torture her. Dyce is the only person whom she allows to comenear her."
"Where is she?"
"We were obliged to move her, after she was sentenced, but the doctorsaid one of those cells down stairs would be certain and quick deathfor her, with her lungs in such a condition; so we put her in thesmallest room on this floor; the last one at the end of the corridor.It is only a closet it is true, but it is right in the angle, and hastwo narrow slits of windows, one opening south, the other west, and thesunshine gets in. The day after her trial ended, she sent for thesheriff, who happened to be here, and asked him if solitary confinementwas not considered a more severe penalty than any other form here? Whenhe told her it was, she said: Then it could not be construed intoclemency or favoritism if you ordered me into solitary confinement?Certainly not, he told her. Whereupon she begged him to allow her to beshut up away from the others, as she would sooner sit in the dark andsee no human being, than be forced to associate with the horrible,guilty outcasts down stairs. While he and Ned were consulting about hercase, she was taken very ill. Of course you know Ned has a good deal oflatitude and discretion allowed him, and the doctor is on our side, buteven at best, the rules are stern. She takes her meals alone, and theonly place where she meets the other convicts--isn't it a shame to callher one!--is the chapel; and even there she is separated, because Nedhas given her charge of the organ. Everybody under sentence is obligedto work, but she does not go down into the general sewing room. Thesuperintendent of that department apportions a certain amount ofsewing, and her share is sent up daily to her. She really is not ableto work, but begged that we should give her some employment."
"She consented to see Mr. Prince Darrington?"
"Oh, no! It was the merest accident that he succeeded in speaking toher. He happened to come the day that I took her out for the first timein the garden, for a little fresh air in the sunshine; and we met himand Ned on the walk. O, Mr. Dunbar! It was pitiful to see her face,when the young man took off his hat, and said:
"'I am General Darrington's adopted son.'
"She was so weak she had been leaning on me, but she threw up her head,and her figure stiffened into steel. 'You imagine that I am the personwho robbed you of Gen'l Darrington's fortune? I suffer for crimes I didnot commit; and am the innocent victim selected to atone for yourinjuries. My wrongs are more cruel than yours. You merely lost landsand money. Can you, by the wildest flight of fancy conjecture thataught but disgrace and utter ruin remain for me?' Ned and I walkedaway; and when we came back she had stepped into the hall, and drawnthe inside door between them. He was standing bareheaded, gazing up ather, and she was looking down at him through the open iron lattice, asif he were the real culprit. That night she had a nervous chill thatlasted several hours, and we promised that no one should be allowed tosee her. Of course the inspectors go everywhere, and when Ned openedher door, I was with her, giving her the tonic the Doctor ordered threetimes a day. I had prepared her for their visit, but when the gentlemencrowded in, she put her hands over her face and hid it on the table.There was not a syllable uttered, and they walked out quickly."
"Will you do me the kindness to persuade her to see me?"
"I am sure, sir, she will refuse; because she desires most especiallyto be shielded from your visits."
"Nevertheless, I intend to see her. Please say that I am here, and havebrought the papers Mr. Singleton desired me to prepare for her."
Ten minutes elapsed before the warden's wife returned, shaking her head:
"She prefers not seeing you, but thanks you for the paper which shewishes left with Mr. Singleton. When she has read it, Mr. Singletonwill probably bring you some message. She hopes you will believe thatshe is very grateful for your attention to her request."
"Go back and tell her that unless she admits me, she shall never seethe paper, for I distinctly decline to put it in any hand but hers;and, moreover, tell her she asked me to obtain for her a certainarticle which, for reasons best known to herself, she holds very dear.This is her only opp
ortunity to receive it, which must be directly fromme. Say that this is the last time I will insist upon intruding, andafter to-day she shall not be allowed the privilege of refusing me anaudience. I am here solely in her behalf, and I am determined to seeher now."
When Mrs. Singleton came back the second time, she appeared unwontedlysubdued, perplexed; and her usually merry eyes were gravely fixed withcurious intentness upon the face of her visitor.
"The room straight ahead of you, with the door partly open, at the endof this corridor. She sees you 'only on condition that this is to bethe final annoyance'. Mr. Dunbar, you were born to tyrannize. It seemsto me you have merely to will a thing, in order to accomplish it."
"If that were true, do you suppose I would allow her to remain one hourin this accursed cage of blood-smeared criminals?"
Down the dim corridor he walked slowly, as if in no haste to finish hiserrand, stepped into the designated cell, and closed the door behindhim.
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