Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 15 (14 page)

Read Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 15 Online

Authors: Plots (and) Counterplots (v1.1)

BOOK: Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 15
3.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 
          
Mrs.
Vane shook her dress and assured him that no harm was done; but nothing could
prevent the distressed gentleman from going down upon his knees, and with his
perfumed handkerchief removing several drops of water from the foot of his
hostess—during which process he discovered that, being still an invalid, she
wore quilted black silk boots, with down about the tops; also that though her
foot was a very pretty one, it was by no means as small as that of Virginie
Varens.

 
          
When
this small stir was over, Mrs. Vane led the way back to the saloon, and here
Douglas
was more than ever mystified by Dupres’s
behavior. Entirely ignoring Madame’s presence, he devoted himself to Arguelles,
besetting him with questions regarding Spain, his own family, pursuits, and
tastes; on all of which points the Spaniard satisfied him, and accepted his
various invitations for the coming days, looking much at their fair hostess the
while, who was much engrossed with Douglas, and seemed quite content.

 
          
Arguelles
was the first to leave, and his departure broke up the party. As Earl and
Dupres drove off together, the former exclaimed, in a fever of curiosity, “Are
you satisfied?”

 
          
“Entirely.”

 
          
“She
is not Virginie, then?”

 
          
“On
the contrary, she is Virginie, I suspect.”

 
          
“You
suspect? I thought you were entirely satisfied.”

 
          
“On
another point, I am. She baffles me somewhat, I confess, with her woman’s art
in dress. But I shall discover her yet, if you let me conduct the affair in my
own way. I adore mystery; to fathom a secret, trace a lie, discover a disguise,
is my delight. I should make a superb detective. Apropos to that, promise me
that you will not call in the help of your blundering constabulary, police, or
whatever you name them, until I give the word. They will destroy the eclat of
the denouement, and annoy me by their stupidity.”

           
“I leave all to you, and regret that
the absence of this Jitomar should complicate the affair. What deviltry is he
engaged in now, do you think? Not traveling to
India
, of course, though she told it very
charmingly.”

 
          
His
companion whispered three words in his ear.

 
          
Earl
fell back and stared at him, exclaiming presently, “It is impossible!”

 
          
“Nothing
is impossible to me,” returned the other, with an air of conviction. “That
point is clear to my mind; one other remains, and being more difficult, I must
consider it. But have no fear; this brain of mine is fertile in inventions, and
by morning will have been inspired with a design which will enchant you by* its
daring, its acuteness, its romance.”

 

Chapter IX

 

MIDNIGHT

 

 
          
FOR
a week the three gentlemen haunted the house of the widow, and were much
together elsewhere. Dupres was still enthusiastic in praise of his new-made
friend, but
Douglas
was far less
cordial,
and merely courteous when they met. To outside observers this seemed but
natural, for the world knew nothing of his relations to Diana, nor the sad secret
that existed between
himself
and Mrs. Vane. And when
it was apparent that the Spaniard was desperately in love with that lady,
Douglas could not but look coldly upon him as a rival, for according to rumor
the latter gentleman was also paying court to the bewitching widow. It was soon
evident
which was the favored lover
, for despite the
dark glances and jealous surveillance of Arguelles, Mrs. Vane betrayed, by
unmistakable signs, that
Douglas
possessed a power over her which no other man had ever attained. It was
impossible to conceal it, for when the great passion for the first time
possessed her heart, all her art was powerless against this touch of nature,
and no timid girl could have been more harassed by the alternations of hope and
fear, and the effort to hide her passion.

 
          
Going
to their usual rendezvous somewhat earlier than usual one evening, Dupres
stopped a moment in an anteroom to exchange a word with Gabrielle, the
coquettish maid, who was apt to be in the way when the Frenchman appeared.
Douglas
went on to the drawing room, expecting to
find Mrs. Vane alone. The apartment was empty, but the murmur of voices was
audible in the conservatory, and going to the curtained arch, he was about to
lift the drapery that had fallen from its fastening, when through a little
crevice in the middle he saw two figures that arrested him, and, in spite of
certain honorable scruples, held him motionless where he stood.

 
          
Mrs.
Vane and the Spaniard were beside the fountain; both looked excited. Arguelles
talked vehemently; she listened with a hard, scornful expression, and made
brief answers that seemed to chafe and goad him bitterly. Both spoke Spanish,
and even if they had not, so low and rapid were their tones that nothing was
audible but the varied murmur rising or falling as the voices alternated. From
his gestures, the gentleman seemed by turns to reproach, entreat, command; the
lady to recriminate, refuse, and defy. Once she evidently announced some
determination that filled her companion with despair; then she laughed, and in
a paroxysm of speechless wrath he broke from her, hurrying to the farthest
limits of the room, as if unconscious whither he went, and marking with
scattered leaves and flowers the passage of his reckless steps.

 
          
As
he turned from her, Mrs. Vane dipped her hands in the basin and laid them on
her forehead, as if to cool some fever of the brain, while such a weight of
utter weariness came over her that in an instant ten years seemed to be added
to her age. Her eyes roved restlessly to and fro, as if longing to discover
some method of escape from the danger or the doubt that oppressed her.

 
          
A
book from which
Douglas
had read to her lay on the rustic table at
her side, and as her eye fell on it, all her face changed beautifully, hope,
bloom, and youth returned, as she touched the volume with a lingering touch,
and smiled a smile in which love and exultation blended. A rapid step announced
the Spaniard’s return; she caught her hand away, mused a moment, and when he
came back to her, she spoke in a softer tone, while her eyes betrayed that now
she pleaded for some boon, and did not plead in vain. Seizing both her hands in
a grasp more firm than tender, Arguelles seemed to extort some promise from her
with sternest aspect. She gave it reluctantly; he looked but half satisfied,
even though she drew his tall head down and sealed her promise with a kiss; and
when she bade him go, he left her with a gloomy air, and some dark purpose
stamped upon his face.

 
          
So
rapidly had this scene passed, so suddenly was it ended, that
Douglas
had barely time to draw a few paces back
before the curtain was pushed aside and Arguelles stood in the arch. Unused to
the dishonorable practices to which he had lent himself for the completion of a
just work, Earl’s face betrayed him.

 
          
The
Spaniard saw that the late interview had not been without a witness, and
forgetting that they had spoken in an unknown tongue, for a moment he looked
perfectly livid with fear and fury. Some recollection suddenly seemed to
reassure him, but the covert purpose just formed appeared to culminate in
action, for, with ungovernable hatred flaming up in his eyes, he said, in a
suppressed voice that scarcely parted his white lips, “Eavesdropper and spy! I
spit upon you!” And advancing one step struck
Douglas
full in the face.

 
          
It
had nearly been his last act, for, burning with scorn and detestation, Earl
took him by the throat, and was about to execute swift retribution for both the
old wrong and the new when Dupres came between them, whispering, as he wrenched
Earl’s arm away, “Hold! Remember where you are. Come away, senor, I am your
friend in this affair. It shall be arranged.
Douglas
, remain here, I entreat you.”

 
          
As
he spoke, Dupres gave Earl a warning glance, and drew Arguelles swiftly from the
house. Controlling a desperate desire to follow,
Douglas
remembered his promise to let his friend
conduct the affair in his own way, and by a strong effort composed himself,
though his cheek still tingled with the blow, and his blood burned within him.
The whole encounter had passed noiselessly, and when after a brief pause
Douglas
entered the conservatory, Mrs. Vane still
lingered by the fountain, unconscious of the scene which had just transpired.
She turned to greet the newcomer with extended hand, and it was with difficulty
that he restrained the rash impulse to strike it from him. The very effort to
control this desire made the pressure of his own hand almost painful as he took
that other, and the strong grasp sent a thrill of joy to Mrs. Vane’s heart, as
she smiled and glowed under his glance like a flower at the coming of the sun.
The inward excitement, which it was impossible to wholly subdue, manifested
itself in Earl’s countenance and manner more plainly than he knew, and would
have excited some of ill in his companion’s mind had not love blinded her, and
left none but prophecies of good. A little tremble of delight agitated her, and
the eyes that once were so coldly bright and penetrating now were seldom lifted
to the face that she had studied so carefully, not long ago. After the first
greetings, she waited for him to speak, for words would not come at her will
when with him; but he stood thoughtfully, dipping his hand into the fountain as
she had done, and laying the wet palm against his cheek, lest its indignant
color should betray the insult he had just received.

 
          
“Did
you meet Senor Arguelles as you came in?” she asked presently, as the pause was
unbroken.

 
          
“He
passed me, and went out.”

 
          
“You
do not fancy him, I suspect.”

 
          
“I
confess it, Mrs. Vane.”

 
          
“And
why?”

           
“Need I tell your

 
          
The
words escaped him involuntarily, and had she seen his face just then, her own
would have blanched with fear. But she was looking down, and as he spoke the
traitorous color rose to her forehead, though she ignored the betrayal by
saying, with an accent of indifference, “He will not annoy you long. Tomorrow
he fulfills some engagement with a friend in the country, and in the evening
will take leave of me.”

 
          
“He
is about to return to
Spain
, then?”

 
          
“I
believe so. I did not question him.”

 
          
“You
will not bid him adieu without regret?”

 
          
“With
the greatest satisfaction, I assure you, for underneath that Spanish dignity of
manner lurks fire, and I have no desire to be consumed.” And the sigh of relief
that accompanied her words was the most sincere expression of feeling that had
escaped her for weeks.

 
          
Anxious
to test his power to the utmost,
Douglas
pursued the subject, though it was evidently distasteful to her. Assuming an
air of loverlike anxiety, he half timidly, half eagerly inquired, “Then when he
comes again to say farewell, you will not consent to go with him to occupy the
castle in
Spain
’ which he has built up for himself during this short week?”

 
          
He
thought to see some demonstration of pleasure at the jealous fear his words
implied, but her color faded suddenly, and she shivered as if a chilly gust had
blown over her, while she answered briefly, with a little gesture of the hand
as she set the topic decidedly aside, “No, he will go alone.”

 
          
There
was a momentary pause, and in it something like pity knocked at the door of
Earl’s heart, for with all his faults he was a generous man, and as he saw this
woman sitting there, so unconscious of impending danger, so changed and
beautiful by one true sentiment, his purpose wavered, a warning word rose to
his lips, and with an impetuous gesture he took her hand, and turned away with
an abrupt “Pardon me— it is too soon—I will explain hereafter.”

 
          
The
entrance of a servant with coffee seemed to rouse him into sudden spirits and
activity, for begging Mrs. Vane to sit and rest, he served her with assiduous
care.

 
          
“Here
is your own cup of violet and gold; you see I know your fancy even in trifles.
Is it right? I took such pains to have it as you like it,” he said, as he
presented the cup with an air of tender solicitude.

 
          
“It
does not matter, but one thing you have forgotten, I take no sugar,” she
answered, smiling as she tasted.

 
          
“I
knew it, yet the line ‘Sweets to the sweet’ was running in my head, and so I
unconsciously spoiled your draft. Let me retrieve the error?”

 
          
“By no means.
I drink to you.” And lifting the tiny cup to
her lips, she emptied it with a look which proved that his words had already
retrieved the error.

 
          
He
received the cup with a peculiar smile, looked at his watch, and exclaimed, “It
is late, and I should go, yet—”

 
          
“No,
not yet; stay and finish the lines you began yesterday. I find less beauty in
them when I read them to myself,” she answered, detaining him.

 
          
Glad
of an excuse to prolong his stay, Earl brought the book, and sitting near her,
lent to the poem the sonorous music of his voice.

 
          
The
last words came all too soon, and when
Douglas
rose, Mrs. Vane bade him good night with a
dreamy softness in her eyes which caused a gleam of satisfaction to kindle in
his own. As he passed through the anteroom, Gabrielle met him with a look of
anxious though mute inquiry in her face. He answered it with a significant nod,
a warning gesture, and she let him out, wearing an aspect of the deepest mystery.

 
          
Douglas
hurried to his rooms, and there found
Dupres with Major Mansfield, who had been put in possession of the secret, and
the part he was expected to play in its unraveling.

 
          
“What
in heavens name did you mean by taking the wrong side of the quarrel, and
forcing me to submit quietly to such an indignity?” demanded Earl, giving vent
to the impatience which had only been curbed till now, that he might perform
the portion of the plot allotted to him.

 
          
“Tell
me first, have you succeeded?” said Dupres.

Other books

Jefferson's Sons by Kimberly Bradley
Held by Edeet Ravel
The Best Man in Texas by Tanya Michaels
The Falling Detective by Christoffer Carlsson
Feral: Book Two by Velvet DeHaven
Forever in Blue by Ann Brashares
Caribes by Alberto Vázquez-Figueroa
Fire Over Atlanta by Gilbert L. Morris