At the Mercy of Tiberius
Page 34
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Over the region of the great lakes, her favorite haunt, hung theenchanted stillness, the misty glamour of the purple-cloakedwitch--Indian Summer; whose sorcery veiled the dazzling face of thesun, and changed the silver lustre of Selene into the vast, solemn redblot that stared wonderingly at its own weird image in the glassywaters.
Wrapped in that soft, sweet haze, which like the eider down of charitysmooths all roughness, rounds all angles, the world of shore and lakepresented a magical panorama of towns and villages, herds of cattle,flocks of sheep, spires of churches, masts of vessels,--all flashingpast the open window of the car, where Beryl sat, watching the shadowslengthen as the long train thundered eastward, and the tree dialsmarked the hour record on the golden brown stubble fields.
When the goal is in sight, do we dwell on the hazard, the strainedmuscles, the blistered feet, and the fierce thirst the long race-coursecost us? Who know that they are weary and spent, while the prizebrightens, nears as they stretch panting to grasp it?
The certainty of meeting her brother, the anticipation of all that shefelt assured he would promise concerning his future, when he learnedthe severity of the ordeal which she had endured in his behalf, blottedout the costliness of the accomplishment. Like that glorious violethaze of Indian Summer, which was drawing its opalescent drapery alongthe vanishing iron railway track blackened with cinders, and softlyshrouding the grim outlines of wreck, that told where a vessel hadfoundered on the lake in the early autumn gale, an overrulingProvidence seemed shedding peace even upon her troubled past. In theswift flash of the divine fire that sanctified the accepted sacrifice,she was too dazzled to remember the moan of the slaughtered victim, theagony of the death struggle; and now, her thoughts spanned the gulf oftime, and painted the eternal reunion of the broken and dishonoredfamily group.
From these comforting reflections she was aroused by a piercing crythat made her spring forward, and scan the crowd of human facescollected close to the rails, at a small town where the cars had halted.
On a side track in front of her window, was a train which had justdashed in from Buffalo, and amid the surging mass of jeeringspectators, two officers stepped down from the platform, each with ahand on the arm of a man, who was heavily handcuffed. At the sight, awhite-haired, withered woman leaning from a carriage and staring withhorror-haunted eyes, had screamed, and was falling back insensible.
"That is his mother. Poor thing, why did they let her come? He is heronly boy," said a man to his comrade, who stood near Beryl's seat.
"What is the matter?" asked a gentleman, sitting immediately in frontof her.
"Two of our officers winged a bird, who thought it was safe flying overyonder, with the lake between him and the county jail. Canada is handyhunting-ground, when the game happens to be runaway thieves; and wehave bagged one. He was the cashier of our Savings Bank, and notsatisfied with tampering with the books, and forcing balances, hefinally robbed the vault of a lot of gold, and flew across the line.His wife met him at St. Catherine's, and he met the iron bracelets hewas dodging."
The train moved on, and once more Beryl heard the howling of thewolves, that she had hoped were left forever behind; that now seemed infull cry bearing down upon their prey. Should she return to the"Anchorage", and advertise Bertie's danger? So vague were her ideasrelative to the limits of extradition, that she had regarded Canada asa city of refuge; considered its protection of United States' criminalfugitives as efficacious, as meeting a Vestal Priestess on the way tohis execution, proved in rescuing a Roman malefactor from the penaltyof violated law; but this shred of comfort had parted, when most sherequired its aid.
"Yes, I understand extradition provisions have been arranged, which arebound to have a wholesome effect; especially in this section, where itis so easy to slip across the lakes any dark night. I am told nearlyall felonies will be embraced now--from murder to burglary--and thatHer Majesty's Secretaries are more willing to aid our officers, thanwas the case a few years ago, when no end of quibbling tied up justice."
The gentlemen on the seat in front of her, moved away to the smokingcar; and the woman in gray listened to the creak and whirr of the wheelof torturing dread, upon which some malignant fate once more bound her.Bertie had been safe in his mountain fastness, until her ill-starredadvertisement coaxed him within reach of the police Briareus. Could shediscern the hand of merciful warning in this fortuitous meeting with acaptured culprit; which so vividly recalled the maddening incidents ofher return to X---, when the sheriff had hurried her from the car? Asickening terror seized her, and along the expanse of pearly mist thatunited earth and sky, in tke snowy fringe of ripples breaking theirteeth on the shelving beach, she seemed to read the doom of herstratagem written in words of menace:
"Go where you may, but I give you fair warning you cannot escape me;and the day on which you meet that guilty vagabond, you betray him tothe scouts of justice."
Far away, among the orange groves of Louisiana, would he forget histhreat, or fail to execute it? On and on darted the train; peoplelaughed and talked; a tired baby swayed from side to side on thenurse's knees, crooned herself to sleep; and a canary in a cage coveredwith pink net, broke suddenly into a spasm of trills and roulades.
It was almost four o'clock when the dull roar of Niagara set the air atremble, and the few remaining passengers left the train. The littletown was unusually quiet and deserted, the tide of summer travel havingebbed; and not until the crystal fingers of the ice fairy had built herwonderful Giralda out of foam and spray, would that of Winter touristsbegin to flow.
Leaving her trunk at the "baggage room" of the station, Beryl engaged acarriage driver to take her to the Suspension Bridge. Drawing her graybonnet and veil as far as possible over her face, she paid the toll,and noticed that the keeper peered curiously at her, and mutteredsomething in an undertone to a man wearing a uniform, who turned andstared at her.
She hurried away along that iron mesh swinging high in air like a vastspider web, spun from shore to shore across the swirling, snarlingcaldron of hissing waters. Was the officer the wary spider watching hermovements, waiting to slip down the metal snare, and devour her hopes?Her heart beats sounded as the heavy thuds of a drum; the rush of direforebodings drowned even the roar of the Falls, and the magnificence ofthe spectacle vanished before the awful realization of the danger towhich she had invited Bertie.
The bridge was deserted; no human being was visible; and now and thenshe glanced back over her shoulder, dreading she knew not what form ofpursuit. At last her flying feet touched British soil, but she knewnow, that neither Bezer nor yet Shechcm lay before her; and nosign-post rose to welcome her, with the "Refuge--Refuge"--the water andthe bread appointed of old, for spent fugitives. Canada was an ambushthat, despite all caution, might betray her. Against the last rail ofthe bridge she leaned, tried to steady her nerves; and put up onepassionate prayer:
"Turn not Thy face from me, O my God! in this last hour! Guide mearight. Overrule all my mistakes, and save my repentant brother."
On the wide gallery of the "Clifton House" stood a gardener engaged inremoving the flower baskets that hung between the columns; and as hepaused in his work, to observe the quaint gray figure below, she asked,in a voice that was strained beyond its customary sweetness:
"Please direct me to the Museum."
"Follow the street along the cliff, and you can't miss it. Behind thosetrees yonder, on the right hand side. To the best of my belief, it isshut up this week."
Turning south, she walked more leisurely, lest undue haste shouldexcite suspicion; and all the solemn sublimity of the scene confrontedher. The green crescent of the Horseshoe blanched to foam, as it leapedto the stony gulf below, the wreaths of mist floating up, gilded by thesunshine; the maddened rush of the tossing, frothing, whirling rapidsseething like melted gold as the western radiance smote the bubblingsurface; the scarlet flakes of foliage clinging to the trees on GoatIsland, and far above, on the wooded height beyond, the
picturesqueoutlines of the Convent, lifting its belfry against the azure sky. Asdoomed swimmers lost in those rapids, swept head downward todestruction, nearing the last wild plunge catch the glimmer of thatconsecrated tower held aloft, so to Beryl's eyes it now seemed a symbolof comfort; and faith once more girded her.
A woman wearing a blue plaid handkerchief tied over her head andknotted under her chin, and carrying a basket of red apples on one arm,while with the other she led a lowing cow along the dusty road, pausedat a signal, in front of the gray clad stranger.
"Which is the Museum?"
"Yonder, where the goats are huddled."
The building was closed, but in those days a garden lay to the north ofit; and a small gate that gave admittance to seats and flowersconnected with the Museum, now stood open.
The walks were strewn with pale yellow poplar leaves, and bordered withbelated pink hollyhocks, and crimson chrysanthemums blighted by frost,shivering in their death chill; and from a neighboring willow strippedof curtaining foliage, a lonely bird piped its plaintive threnody, forthe loss of one summer's mate. At the extremity of the little garden,under shelter of an ancient, gnarled tree, that screened a semicircularseat from the observation of those passing on the street, Beryl satdown to rest; to collect her thoughts.
In the solitude, she threw back her veil, leaned her head against thetrunk of the tree where wan lichens made a pearly cushion, and shut hereyes. The afternoon was wearing away; a keen wind shook the bareboughs; only the ceaseless, unchanging chant of waters rose from thevast throat of nature, invoking its God.
She heard no footsteps; but some strange current attacked her veins,thrilled along her nerves, strung as taut as the wires of a harp, andstarting up she became aware that a man was standing on the cloversward close to her. A dark brown overcoat, a broad brimmed, soft woolhat, drawn as a mask down to the bridge of the nose, and a bare handcovering the mouth, was all she saw.
Stretching out her arms, she sprang to meet him:
"O Bertie! At last! At last!"
The figure drew back slightly, lifted his hat; and where she hadexpected to see her brother's golden curls, the crisp, black locks ofMr. Dunbar met her gaze.
"You! Here?"
She staggered, and sank back on the bench; the realization of Bertie'speril throttling the joy that leaped up in her heart, at sight of thebeloved features.
"I am here. I come as promptly to fulfil my promise as you to keep yourtryst. Do you understand me so little, that you doubted my word?"
Her bonnet had slipped back, and as all the chastened beauty of herface framed in the dainty cap, became fully exposed, a heavy sighescaped him, and he set his teeth, like one nerved to endure torture.
For months he had nourished the germ of a generous purpose, had triedto accustom himself to the idea of ultimately surrendering her; but inher presence, a certain bitter fury swept away the wretched figment,and he remembered only how fair, how holy, how dear she was to him.Once more the cry of his famishing heart was: "Death may part us. Iswear no man's arms ever shall."
"Why waylay and torment me? Have I not suffered enough at your hands?Between me and mine not even you can come."
"Take care! For your sake I am here, hoping to spare you some pangs; toallow you at least an opportunity to see him--"
"What have you done? Don't tell me I am too late. Where is he? Oh!where--where is he?"
She had sprung up, and her hands closed around his arm, shaking it inthe desperation of her dread; while her voice quivered under the strainof a conjecture that Bertie had already been arrested.
"Where is your chivalrous, courageous, unselfish, devoted lover? Toascertain exactly where he skulks, is my mission to Canada; for Ithought I had schooled myself to bear the pain of--"
"What do you mean? What have you done with my Bertie? Oh--"
She threw herself suddenly on her knees, held up her hands, and awailing cry broke the stillness:
"Save him, Mr. Dunbar! You will break my heart if you bring ruin uponhis dear head. He is all I have on earth, he is my own brother! Mybrother! my brother!"
The blood ebbed from his face; the haughty mouth twitched in a suddenspasm, and he put his hand over his eyes.
Could she adopt this ruse to thwart pursuit of the man whom sheidolized? For half a moment he stood, with whitened lips; then stooped,took the face of the kneeling woman in his palms, and scanned it.
"Your brother?"
"My brother. Do you understand at last, why I must save him? Why youmust help me to screen him from ruin?"
"Great God! After all, what a blind fool I have been!"
He raised her, placed her on the bench; sat down and leaned his head onhis hand. To Beryl, the silence that followed was an excruciatingtorture, beyond even her power of endurance.
"Do not keep me in suspense. Where is Bertie? Let me see him, if he ishere."
"He is not here. It was to assist you in finding him, that I enticedyou here."
"You enticed me?"
"I put the advertisement in the 'Herald', knowing that if you chancedto see it, all the legions of Satan could not keep you away. I havebeen here since Sunday, waiting and watching. I was obliged to see you,for your own sake, as well as to satisfy my longing to look once moreinto your face; and I felt assured the magnetic name of 'Bertie' woulddraw you here swiftly."
"Then it was only a snare, that advertisement? Oh! you are cruel!"
"Not to you. It was to promote your peace of mind, by enabling you tomeet the man who, I supposed was your lover, that I invited you to thisplace. Mark you, only to see, never to marry him."
"Where is he?"
"Exactly where, I do not yet know; but very soon you shall learn."
"Is he in peril?"
"Not from arrest at present, by human officers of retributive justice."
"He is not coming here?"
"Certainly not."
"How did you learn his name?"
"I suspected that the advertisement you published in the "Herald" afterleaving X---, was a clue that would aid me. I clung to it, for I wassure it referred to the man whom I have hunted so persistently."
"You have something to tell me. Be merciful, and end my suspense."
"First, answer one question. Why did you conceal from me the fact thatyou had a brother? Why did you allow me to suffer from a false theory,that you knew made my life a slow torture?"
He leaned nearer, and under the blue fire of his eager eyes, the bloodmounted into her pale cheeks.
"My motive belongs to a past, with which I trust I have done forever;and you have no right to violate its buried ashes."
"I must, and I will have all the truth, cost what it may. Between youand me, no spectre of mystery shall longer stalk. If you had trustedme, and confessed the facts before the trial, you would have muzzled meeffectually, and prevented the employment of detectives whom I havehissed on your brother's track. Why did you lead me astray, and confirmmy suspicion that you were shielding a lover?"
"I was innocent; but my name, my father's honored name, was in jeopardyof dishonor, and to protect it, I would not undeceive you. Had mybrother been convicted, the established guilt would have tarnishedforever our only legacy, all that father left to Bertie and to me--hisspotless name."
"You are quibbling. Did you shield the family name by enduring thepurgatory of seeing your own on the list of penitentiary convicts? Youdeliberately fastened the odium of the crime upon your father'sdaughter; and you knew, you understood perfectly, that by strengtheningmy erroneous supposition, you were lashing me to a pursuit of theperson, whom you could have best protected by frankly telling me all.If he is really your brother, what did you expect to accomplish byfostering my belief that he was your lover?"
"Mr. Dunbar, spare me this inquisition. Release me from the rack ofsuspense. Tell me why you set this snare, baited with Bertie's name?"
"I must first end my own suspense. If you wish to find the man, youtell me is your brother, I will aid you only when you
have bared yourheart to me. You had some powerful incentive unrevealed. I will knowexactly, why you made me suffer all these years, the pangs of adevouring jealousy, keener than a vulture's talons."
With crimson cheeks, and shy, averted eyes, she sat trembling;unconsciously locking and unlocking her fingers. Her head drooped, andthe voice was a low flutter:
"If I had told you that the handkerchief was one I gave to my brother,because he fancied the gay border, and that the pipe belonged to mydear father, and if you had known that for more than a year before Iwent to X---no tidings from that brother had reached me, would you havekept my secret, when you saw my life laid in the scales held by thejury? Suppose they had condemned me to death? I expected that fate; butknowing the truth, would you have permitted the execution of thatsentence?"
"Certainly not; and you understand why I should never have allowed it."
"I knew that in such an emergency I could not trust you."
Five minutes passed, while he silently sought to unravel the web; andBeryl dared not meet his gaze.
"You had some stronger motive, else you would have confessed all, whenI started to Dakota. Anxiety for your brother's safety would haveunsealed your lips. What actuated you then? I mean to know everythingnow."
"Miss Gordon was my friend. She showed me kindness which I could neverforget."
"Miss Gordon is a very noble woman, kinder to all the world than toherself; but did gratitude to her involve sacrifice of me?"
"You were betrothed. I owed it to her, to keep you loyal to your vows,as far as my power extended. I tried faithfully to guard her happiness,while endeavoring to shield my brother."
"Knowing you had all my heart, you dared not let me learn that therival existed only in my imagination? loyal soul! Did you deem it akindness to aid in binding her to an unloving husband? Her womanlyinstincts saved her from that death in life; and years ago, she set usboth free. She wears no willows, let me tell you; and those who shouldknow best, think that before very long she will sail for Europe as wifeof Governor Glenbeigh, the newly appointed minister to Z---, abrilliant position, which she will nobly grace. She will be happier asGlenbeigh's wife than I could possibly have made her; for he loves heras she deserves to be loved. So, for Miss Gordon's sake, you immolatedme?"
Only the pathetic piping of the lonely bird made answer.
Like the premonitory thrill that creeps through forest leaves, beforethe coming burst of a tempest, he seemed to tremble slightly; his tonehad a rising ring, and a dark flush stained his swarthy face, deepenedthe color in his brilliant eyes.
"Oh, my white rose! A wonderful fragrance of hope steals into the air;a light breaks upon my dreary world that makes me giddy! Can it bepossible that you--"
He paused, and she covered her face with her hands.
"Beryl, you are the only woman I have ever loved. You came suddenlyinto my life, as an irresistible incarnation of some fateful witcherythat stole and fired my heart, subverted all my plans, made havoc oflifelong hopes, dominated my will, changed my nature; overturned thecool selfishness on the altar of my worship, and set up your own imagein a temple, swept, garnished, and sanctified forever by yourin-dwelling. You have cost me stinging humiliation, years of regret, ofbitter disappointment; and the ceaselessly gnawing pain of a jealousdread that despite my vigilance, another man might some day possessyou. I have money, influence, professional success, gratified ambition,and enviable social eminence; I have all but that which a man wantsmost, the one woman in the great wide world whom he loves truly, lovesbetter than he loves himself; and who holds his heart in the hollow ofher hand. I want my beautiful, proud, pure, stately white rose. I wantmy Beryl. I will have my own."
He had risen, stood before her; took the hands that veiled hercountenance, and drew her to her feet.
"You have been loyal to parents, to brother, to friends, to duty; beloyal now to your own heart; answer me truly. What did you mean whenyou once said, with a mournful pathos I cannot forget: 'We love notalways whom we should, or would, were choice permitted us?' You defiedme that day, and prayed God to bless your lover; taunted me with wordsthat have made days dreary, nights hideous: 'To whom I have given mywhole deep heart, you shall never know.' Did you mean--ah--will youtell me now?"
She bent her head till it almost touched him, but no answer came.
"You will not? I swear you shall; else I shall hope, believe, knowbeyond all doubt, that during these years, I have not been the onlysufferer; and that loyal as was your soul, your rebel heart is as trulymine, as all my deathless love is surely yours."
She tried to withdraw her hands; but his hold tightened, and infiniteexultation rang in his voice.
"My darling! My darling--you dare not deny it? I shall wear my whiterose to make all the future sweet with a blessed love; but have you noword of assurance for my hungry ears? Is my darling too proud?"
He raised her hands, laid her arms around his neck, and folded veryclose to his heart, the long coveted prize.
"My Beryl, it was a stubborn battle, but Lennox Dunbar claims his own;and will hold her safe forever. Will you be loyal to your tyrant?"
Was it a white or a crimson rose that hid its lovely petals against hisshoulder, and whispered with lips that his kiss had rouged:
"Have I ever been allowed a choice? Was I not foredoomed to be alwaysat the mercy of Tiberius?"
The little garden was growing dusky, the gilded mist waving itsspectral banners over the thundering cataract, had whitened as the sunwent down behind the wooded crest that barred the western sky line; andthe shimmering gold on the heaving, whirling current of the Rapidsfaded to leaden tints, flecked with foam, as like a maddened suitor,parted by Goat Island from its beloved, it rushed to plunge into theabyss, where the silvery bridal veil shook her signal, and all theroaring gorge filled with purple gloom.
Mr. Dunbar drew his companion's hand under his arm, and led her towardthe Clifton House.
"You and I have done with shadows. On the heights yonder, the sun stillshines. Up there waits one, who will tell you that which he refuses todivulge to any one else. Ten days ago my agents notified me that a manwas searching for Mrs. Brentano and her daughter Beryl in New York; andthat he had gone to X---, where he spent several days in consultationwith the Catholic priest. Singleton sent me a telegram, and I reachedX---in time to accompany the stranger back to New York. To me he admitsonly, that he lives in Montreal; and is the bearer of a message, theimport of which, sacred promises prevent him from revealing to any onebut Miss Brentano. He is an elderly man, and so wary, no amount ofdexterity can circumvent his caution. Very complex and inexplicablemotives brought me here; chiefly the longing to see you, to learn yourretreat, your mode of existence; and also the intention to exact onecondition, before I made it possible for you to find the object of yoursearch. When you had given me your promise not to marry him, it was mypurpose to allow you one final meeting; and if you forfeited yourcompact, the dungeon and the gallows awaited him. Love makes womenmartyrs; they are the apostles of the gospel of altruism. Love revivesin men of my stamp, the primeval and undifferentiated tiger. When Ithink of all that you have endured, of how nearly I lost you, mysnowdrop, do you wonder I shall hasten to set you in the garden of myheart, and shelter your dear head from every chill wind of adversity?"
They had passed through a gate, crossed a lawn, and reached a long,steep flight of steps leading straight up the face of a cliff, to thegrounds attached to a villa. With her hand clasped tightly in his, Mr.Dunbar and Beryl slowly mounted the abrupt stairway, and when theygained the elevated terrace, a man who was walking up and down thesward, came quickly forward.
Pressing her fingers tenderly, Mr. Dunbar released her hand.
"When your interview is ended, come to me yonder at the side gate,where I have a carriage to take you over the bridge. Father Beckx, thisis Miss Brentano. I leave her in your care."
The sun was sending his last level shafts of light from the edge of thesky, when a man dressed in long black vestments
, a raven-haired,raven-eyed, thin lipped and clean shaven personage, with a placidcountenance as coldly irresponsive as a stone mask, sat down on the topstep of the long stairs, beside the woman in gray, whose eager whiteface was turned to meet his, in breathless and mute expectancy.
The lingering twilight held at bay slowly marching night; the sunsetglory streamed up almost to the zenith in bands of amethyst and faintopaline green, like the far reaching plumes of an archangel's pinionsbeating the still, crystal air. Later, the vivid orange of theafterglow burned with a transient splendor, as the dying smile of a daythat had gone to its eternal grave; and all the West was one vastevening primrose of palest gold sprinkled with star dust, when Berylwent slowly to join the figure pacing restlessly in front of the gate.
Across the grassy lawn he came to meet her. In mute surrender shelifted her arms, laid her proud head, with its bared wealth ofburnished bronze hair, down on his shoulder, and wept passionately.
When he had placed her in the carriage, and held her close to hisheart, with his dark cheek resting on hers, where tears still trickled,he whispered:
"How much are you willing to tell me?"
"Only that I must start at once on a long, lonely journey to a desolateretreat, in mountain solitudes; far away in the wilderness of theNorthwest. Bertie is there; and I must see him once more."
"How soon do you wish to start?"
"Within the next three days."
"You must wait one week. I cannot go before that time."
"You--?"
"Do you suppose I shall allow you to travel there without me? Do youimagine I shall ever lose sight of you, till the vows are uttered thatmake you my wife? You cannot see your brother's face, until you havefirst looked into your husband's. In one week I can arrange to go, tothe ends of the earth if you will; but you will meet your brother onlywhen you are Beryl Dunbar."
"No--no! You forget, ah!--You forget. I have worn the penitentiaryhomespun, and the brand of the convict seared my fair name, scarred allmy life. The wounds will heal, but time can never efface the hard linesof the cicatrice; and I could not bear to mar the lustre of yourhonored name by--"
"Hush!--hush. It is ungenerous in you to wound me so sorely. When Iremember the fiery furnace through which my wife walked unscorched,with such sublime and patient heroism, is it possible that I shouldforget whose rash hand, whose besotted idiocy consigned her to theawful ordeal? Out of the black shadow where I thrust you, sprang thehalo that glorifies you. How often, in the silence of my sleeplessnights, have I heard the echo of your wild, despairing cry: 'You haveruined my life!' Oh, my darling! If you withhold yourself, if you castme away, you will indeed ruin mine. If you could realize how I wince atthe recollection of your suffering, you would not cruelly remind me ofmy own accursed work."
"If the soul of my brother be ransomed thereby, I shall thank you, evenfor all that X---cost me. The world knows now, that no suspicion clingsto me; but, Mr. Dunbar, the disgrace blots forever the dear name Itried to shield; and my vindication only blackens Bertie."
"The world will never know. Your sad secret shall be kept, and my nameshall wrap you in ermine, and my love make your future redeem the past.Having found my darling, can I afford to run the risk of losing her?You belong to me, and I will not trust you out of my sight, until thelaw gives me a husband's claim. The mother of one of my oldest friendsis boarding here in Niagara. I will commit you to her care untilto-morrow; then some church will furnish an altar where you shallpledge me your loyalty."
"Impossible! To-night a train will take me to Buffalo, where I cancatch the express going West. There are reasons why I must make nodelay; must hasten back to explain many things to the Matron of theSisterhood, where I have dwelt so safely and so peacefully since I leftX---."
"Give me the reasons. 'Impossible' ne me dites jamais ce bete de mot!'Give me your reasons."
His arm tightened around her.
"Not now."
"Then you shall not leave me. I will endure no more mysteries."
"Mr. Dunbar, I wear the uniform of a celibate Order of Gray Sisters;and the matron trusted me in an unusual degree, when she consented thatI should undertake this journey on a secret mission. I came to Niagara,as I supposed, to keep an appointment with my brother, and I met you.If I lingered one instant here, it might reflect some discredit uponthis dear gray garb, which all hold so irreproachable. Sister Ruthtrusted me. I cannot, I will not, even in the smallest iota, appear tobetray her confidence; and I must go at once, and go as I came--alone.Bid the driver take me to the railway station, and you must remain inthe carriage. I can have no escort. Your presence would subject me tocriticism, and I will guard the 'gray' that so mercifully guarded me."
"Beryl, are you trying to elude me?"
"I am faithfully trying to keep my compact with Sister Ruth. Here is acard bearing the exact address of the 'Anchorage'. I am going there asquickly as possible, to make speedy arrangements for my long journeyWest, to that place almost within sound of the Pacific Ocean."
"Put your hand in mine. Promise me before God, that you will not vanishfrom me; that you will not leave the 'Anchorage' until I come and seeyou there."
"I promise; but time presses. I must hasten to find Bertie."
"Do you know exactly where to go?"
"Yes. I have minute directions written down."
"Wait until I come. I trust you to keep your promise. Ah! after to-day,I could not bear to lose my 'Rosa Alba.' God make me more worthy of myloyal and beautiful darling. After all, not Alcestis, but Antigone!"