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diff --git a/old/54177.txt b/old/54177.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 52f20b3..0000000 --- a/old/54177.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8705 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Leonie, The Typewriter, by Wenona Gilman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Leonie, The Typewriter - A Romance of Actual Life - -Author: Wenona Gilman - -Release Date: February 17, 2017 [EBook #54177] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEONIE, THE TYPEWRITER *** - - - - -Produced by Demian Katz and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy -of the Digital Library@Villanova University -(http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) - - - - - - - - - - PRICE, (COMPLETE.) 10 CENTS. - - COMPLETE IN THIS VOLUME. PRICE 10 CENTS. - - _Leonie, - The TypeWriter._ - - A _Thrilling Romance of actual Life - BY A CELEBRATED AUTHORESS_. - -[Illustration: LYNDE PYNE WATCHED THE GRACEFUL MOVEMENTS OF LEONIE'S -FINGERS OVER THE KEY BOARD] - - New York: - MUNRO'S PUBLISHING HOUSE - Vandewater St. - - - - - Leonie, the Typewriter. - - A ROMANCE OF ACTUAL LIFE - - BY A CELEBRATED AUTHOR. - -_Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by Norman L. -Munro, in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C._ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER I. - CHAPTER II. - CHAPTER III. - CHAPTER IV. - CHAPTER V. - CHAPTER VI. - CHAPTER VII. - CHAPTER VIII. - CHAPTER IX. - CHAPTER X. - CHAPTER XI. - CHAPTER XII. - CHAPTER XIII. - CHAPTER XIV. - CHAPTER XV. - CHAPTER XVI. - CHAPTER XVII. - CHAPTER XVIII. - CHAPTER XIX. - CHAPTER XX. - CHAPTER XXI. - CHAPTER XXII. - CHAPTER XXIII. - CHAPTER XXIV. - CHAPTER XXV. - CHAPTER XXVI. - CHAPTER XXVII. - CHAPTER XXVIII. - CHAPTER XXIX. - CHAPTER XXX. - CHAPTER XXXI. - CHAPTER XXXII. - CHAPTER XXXIII. - CHAPTER XXXIV. - CHAPTER XXXV. - CHAPTER XXXVI. - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -The day was delicious! A warm, soft breeze, that seemed to suggest -sunny Italy, or the luxurious indolence of far-off Japan, tinted the -atmosphere with a golden hue. - -It rested like a halo upon the head of a young man who sat beside a -desk, idly twisting a pen between his fingers. It was a beautiful head! -Too beautiful for a man, too strong for a woman. - -From the large, velvety eyes, Italian in color and softness, but -Mexican in their occasional gleams of thrilling brilliancy, to the -clear complexion with the touch of crimson in the cheeks; from the -dainty, curly hair that lay in tiny rings upon the broad, white -brow, to the mouth, with its sweeping, silken mustache, the face was -absolutely without flaw or blemish. And yet no man ever laughed at -Lynde Pyne for his beauty, or would have thought of pronouncing him -effeminate. - -"He is one of the best fellows in existence," they told each other at -the club; "and it is a confounded shame that he was cut out of his -uncle's will in the manner in which he was. There was never a more -honorable man than Lynde Pyne, and for all he knows by what means -Luis Kingsley came in possession of the money that is rightfully -his, he never says a word, but works away, early and late, with but -poor reward. It is a queer world that robs an honest man to give his -birthright to a scoundrel." - -But Lynde Pyne was giving little thought to that as he sat dreamily -twirling his pen on that golden day in June. - -His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of his office boy. - -"If you please, Mr. Pyne," he said respectfully, though not servilely, -"there is a young lady here to see you." - -Lynde glanced up slowly, evidently not pleased at the interruption. - -"Her name?" - -"She is a typewriter!" - -"Oh! Show her in." - -He returned to his idle dreaming, but was aroused again at the -expiration of a moment. - -"I came to see about the position you advertised, sir," a cool, refined -voice said. - -He arose and offered her a chair, looking at her in his own -irresistible fashion. - -And what he saw he never forgot! - -The face was as flawless as his own. The short, curling, red-brown -hair, that looked as though the sun had become entangled in a -shadow, the violet eyes, the graceful sweep of the perfect chin, the -exquisitely fitting gown of cheap gray tricot, all appealed to him with -irresistible force. - -"What machine do you operate? and what is your record for speed?" he -asked, scarcely conscious that he had spoken at all. - -"I use the Hammond mostly, and can write seventy words to the minute, -provided they are not too long." - -"You can write from dictation?" - -"Yes, sir. I am a stenographer and typewriter. My last position I lost -through the death of Mr. Carl Lefevre, my employer." - -"Then you are Miss Cuyler?" - -"I am." - -"Your reputation has preceded you!" exclaimed Lynde, with one of his -most entrancing smiles. "I shall be only too glad to engage you. You -know the duties without my going into detail. There is only one thing -that I shall require that he did not, perhaps, and that is, in addition -to a typewriter, I wish you to act rather as a private secretary. You -are to open all of my mail that is not marked personal, reporting the -contents to me, that I may not be bothered with it. You think you can -do that?" - -"Perhaps not just at first, but I am so familiar now with the work of -a lawyer's office that I don't think I would have much difficulty in -learning." - -"That will be quite satisfactory. And the salary?" - -The charming face colored crimson. - -"I know so little of business," she answered, hesitatingly. "Of course -beginning with you is quite different from what it would be if you were -sure that I could do your work." - -"But I am sure! I should expect to pay the same that Mr. Lefevre did, -with a suitable addition for the extra amount of work. I suppose that -would be reasonable?" - -"More than I could expect." - -"Can you begin to-day?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Very well. There is a whole raft of copying in that drawer to be done. -You will find a dressing-room on that side." - -Leonie Cuyler did not wait to be told a second time. With a bow in -Lynde's direction, she withdrew, laying her hat and a soft lace scarf, -that had been wrapped about her neck, upon a table. - -She glanced carelessly into the small mirror, endeavoring to smooth -down the rebellious curls that were one of her chief attractions. - -For a single moment she stood gazing idly about her, a dreamy smile -upon her lips, then shaking herself together with a little impatient -jerk, she walked into the room where Lynde Pyne awaited her. - -With almost tender care he showed her the position of his papers, -explained to her what would be expected of her, then sat down, watching -the graceful movements of her fingers as they flew lightly over the -key-board. - -He felt dizzy, as though from drinking wine, when the evening came and -he saw that he must let her go. - -He watched her from the room, then put on his own hat with a weary sigh. - -"I am afraid I have not done a wise thing to bring Leonie Cuyler here," -he muttered, "and yet what can it matter?" - -There was something half bitter, wholly defiant in his mental question, -and he walked from the office with anything but a pleasant expression -upon his handsome face. - -And Leonie? - -After her little home had been set to rights, she sat down by the -single window the room contained, her arm resting upon the sill -dejectedly. - -An old man, aristocratic in appearance, notwithstanding the poor -clothing that he wore, a man strangely white of hair and beard, bent -from age and sorrow, sat near her, playing with a string that he was -twining about his fingers. - -"What is the matter with you to-night, my darling?" he asked, breaking -a long silence. "My little one is not at all like herself! Dad is not -going to lose his sunshine at this time of life, is he? I did not know -that I should miss the chatter of my little magpie so much. What is the -matter, Leonie?" - -She leaned over and kissed him, but even that was not done in her usual -way. - -"Nothing, dad!" she answered dreamily. "That is, there is nothing -wrong! I was only thinking. That is something unusual, I confess." - -"Of what were you thinking?" - -"Of a picture that I saw to-day. It was a woman's face--a woman that I -think Rembrandt or Guido would have given half their lives to paint. -I couldn't describe it to you, because any description would sound -commonplace applied to such an original. Her name is Miss Evelyn -Chandler." - -When she had finished speaking she turned her eyes slowly, and allowed -them to rest upon Godfrey Cuyler's face. - -She was startled at the change that flashed over it. His chin dropped, -his eyes set, his brow was covered suddenly with a moisture that -resembled death. - -"Where did you see it?" he asked hoarsely, his voice scarcely more than -a whisper. - -"In the private drawer of Lynde Pyne's desk." - -"Lynde Pyne! In Heaven's name what do you know of him?" - -"He is my employer." - -"Lynde Pyne? Impossible! And you stood by his side, looking at Evelyn -Chandler's portrait?" - -"No. I saw it in the drawer by accident. Her name was written beneath -it. Dad, who is Miss Evelyn Chandler, and why should I not look at her -portrait with Lynde Pyne beside me?" - -"I cannot tell you that," he gasped. "I am pledged by an oath that I -can never break. Child, child, what miserable fate was it that led you -to Lynde Pyne's office?" - -"Miserable fate?" she cried, rising and standing before him. "Is it a -miserable fate that gives us bread to eat? Do you forget that we could -not have lived more than a week longer from the savings of my little -salary? Summer is coming on now, and lawyers do not want typewriters, -or the positions are filled. See how often I have tried and failed. Oh, -dad----" - -"Hush!" he interrupted. "If we starve, you must not remain there! There -is a reason stronger than either life or death. Leonie, you must listen -to me!" - -"Dad, I have no wish not to do so. There is but one thing--I am no -longer a child, and you have no right to demand a thing of me without -explanation. If there is a reason why I should not remain in Lynde -Pyne's office, I am ready to go, though such a course seems to -indicate nothing short of starvation to me, but unless you give me the -reason, for both our sakes I must decline." - -"You don't know what you are saying! I know your nature, your -overwhelming pride. Leonie, listen! If you refuse to hear me now, -some day you will hear a secret the horror of which will kill you! My -darling, what am I to say? Tell me that you will give it up?" - -"I cannot!" she gasped, bowing her head upon her hands. "Oh, dad, if -you asked me for the heart out of my body it would be easier for me to -give you!" - -With a cry that resembled that of a wild animal, Godfrey Cuyler seized -the girl by the shoulder. - -"Answer me, quickly!" he cried, in a choking voice--"you do not love -Lynde Pyne?" - -She lifted her white face and looked at him. It was enough! - -The old man fell upon his knees beside her and buried his face in her -lap. - -"My darling--my darling!" he moaned; "how can I ever ask you to forgive -me?" - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -A gentle breeze, like the soft current wafted from a fan in the hands -of Heaven, played through the room in which Leonie lay sweetly sleeping. - -Silently the door of her room opened, and with noiseless step the old -man entered. He looked cautiously around, then thrust forward a candle -that he had held outside the door until he found that she was soundly -sleeping. With cat-like tread, he advanced and stood beside her, -looking down with a countenance that was convulsed with anguish. - -"Oh, my darling! what have I done?" he gasped. "If I had not been so -blind I might have spared you all this. You love Lynde Pyne! Great God! -what a hideous thing life is after all. I might have known that she -would meet them all sooner or later. It is the law of the living. But -what was I to do? My poor little one! where is the justice or the mercy -in the curse that rests upon your life? To know the truth, with your -sensitive nature, would kill you; yet how am I to keep you from finding -out? Oh, God! the peace that time had brought is ended, and the bitter -agony of her life has begun! If I could but bear it for her!" - -He left her side after one more long look, and taking a key that he -had brought with him he unlocked an old desk that the room contained. -Inside the drawer that opened he pressed a spring, and took from the -inner drawer a small portrait. - -He looked at the pictured face, then bowed his head upon it, and the -bitterest tears of his life fell from his eyes. - -"Oh, Lena, Lena!" he sobbed. "Can you look down upon us now and see -what your sin is to cost her? I don't want to blame you, my girl, now -that you are dead, but what am I to say to her? I wonder if you can -see what terrible danger threatens her, and I wonder if you know that -it would kill her to know the sin that you committed, and that forever -ruins and blasts her life? God forgive me! You are dead now, and -perhaps in heaven, but--Lena, Lena, Lena!" - -He sat for some time so, then was aroused by feeling a hand laid upon -his shoulder. He glanced up, and to his dismay, saw Leonie standing -there, her face white as death. - -"Who is that woman?" she asked in a voice utterly unlike her own. - -Godfrey Cuyler hesitated, his hands shaking until it was almost -impossible for him to hold the portrait. He thrust it into the drawer, -and locked it before she knew what he was about. - -"It is no one that you know!" he cried, brokenly. "If you love me, you -will not ask." - -She laid her hands upon his shoulders, and held him firmly. - -"Dad," she said, slowly, "you are keeping something from me that you -have no right to keep. What is it? What has Miss Chandler to do with -me? And who is that woman whose picture you have, who looks so much -like the portrait in Lynde Pyne's drawer?" - -The old man fell into a chair, his limbs refusing to support him. - -She fell upon her knees beside him, clasping his hands with both her -own. - -"Dad," she whispered hoarsely, "there is some secret that connects my -life with that of Miss Chandler and Lynde Pyne. Tell me what it is. If -you do not, I shall find out for myself, and it would be so much better -for me to hear it from you than from a stranger, if it is the dreadful -thing that your manner leads me to fear. Dad, tell me." - -"I cannot," he gasped. "You must believe me when I tell you that there -is nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Oh, Leonie, Leonie, my darling, put this -nonsense out of your head. If you must know the story, that is an aunt -of Miss Chandler's whom I once loved." - -He was pointing toward the drawer where the picture was concealed, -but the girl knew as well that he was lying to her as though the full -knowledge of the humiliating story had been laid bare to her. - -"Dad," she exclaimed, "oh, dad, it must be worse even than I thought, -when you will descend to a lie! Think again, dad. What is this hidden -misery that the mere mention of Miss Chandler's name causes you such -bitter suffering?" - -"It is not Miss Chandler. You must not think it!" he cried, his voice -indistinct from the chattering of his teeth. "I once swore an oath -that concerned her--that is all. I cannot tell you, because my word is -pledged. Little one, little one, you must believe me. You must trust -dad always--always!" - -He was trembling as though with a terrible chill, and feeling as though -her heart had suddenly turned to ice, Leonie arose from her knees. - -"You are exciting yourself, dad," she said gently, "and will be ill -to-morrow. Go to bed, will you not?" - -"Not until you have promised me that you will not go again to Lynde -Pyne's office! I could never rest until you had promised that. Tell me -that you will not!" - -"I can't do that!" she cried, her voice sounding hollow in the -stillness of the night. - -"We can't starve, and there is no other prospect--none!" - -"Is that the only reason?" - -She turned away wearily to avoid his penetrating gaze. - -"No," she answered huskily, "perhaps it is not, but even if it were, I -should still say the same. Oh, dad, what is it? There can be nothing so -bad as this torturing suspense! Surely you can trust me?" - -"Leonie," he said, in a choking voice, "the secret I know concerns -Evelyn Chandler, not yourself. You must believe me, for I speak the -truth!" - -"Will you pledge me your honor to that, dad?" - -He had never told a deliberate lie in his life before, and the effort -cost him a greater struggle than almost any one would believe, but he -controlled his countenance, and answered slowly: - -"I do!" - -She allowed her hand to fall from his shoulder, where it had rested, -and sighed wearily. He had not deceived her! - -"Will you promise now?" he asked, almost unable to control his -eagerness. - -"No," she replied, with a dejected shake of the head. "If the secret -does not concern me, it would be a foolish thing for me to resign a -position that I so sorely need. Don't ask it, dad, for there is nothing -that you can say that would induce me to do it!" - -"Leonie----" - -"You are keeping me up, dad, and I need rest. Won't you say good-night?" - -The voice was quiet, but the expression on the lovely face belied it. - -He saw what he had done, but was powerless to alter it. - -"Oh, child----" he began, but she interrupted him again. - -"To-morrow, dad! I am tired now and---- Go, dear, won't you? And, dad, -don't worry your dear old head about me! If there is trouble to be -borne, we can bear it together, as we always have, but we will leave -it until it comes. You know how foolish it is to endeavor to cross a -bridge before you come to it! Dad, dear old dad! good-night and God -bless you. Whatever may come in the future, you have been the most -faithful--- There you are making a baby of me." - -She placed her arms about his neck, and hid her face upon his shoulder -in a vain endeavor to conceal her tears. She kissed him again, then -gently pushed him into his own room, and closed the door. - -For hours after he had gone she sat there by the window trying to solve -the mystery that surrounded her. Her brows were knit, her fingers -tightly laced, her face pale as marble. - -She arose suddenly, her hands clasped above her heart, her eyes wildly -bright. - -"I have it!" she cried hoarsely. "My mother lives! She has committed -some sin that dad fears to tell me, for which he will never see her -again, and this Evelyn Chandler knows! Oh, mother, is it true? Is that -why he never speaks your name? If it is true, dear, I know that you are -innocent, and perhaps I can prove it! I will try, oh, I will try!" - -There was no possibility of sleep that night, and when morning broke it -found her still sitting there, forming her plans to accomplish a thing -the full knowledge of which was to cause her the bitterest sorrow she -had ever known. - -And in the next room, separated only by a thin partition, Godfrey -Cuyler was planning how he could save her. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -"Ask Pyne not to keep me waiting. I am in a great hurry!" - -The speaker was an elderly man of unusually fine presence, a strong -cast of countenance, and a manner that bespoke him a man born to -command, a trifle dictatorial and overbearing perhaps, but just to the -last degree, save where his overweening pride was concerned. He did not -even glance about him, but sat down in a preoccupied way that would -have told an observer how deeply he was thinking. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Chandler!" Lynde exclaimed, entering the room where -he sat. "Is not this charming weather?" - -"Yes; but I have not come to you to talk about the weather," answered -the elder man testily. "The fact is, a most infernally unpleasant thing -has been going on at my house for some time, and I have borne it just -as long as I can. I have come to you for your advice." - -He paused and looked at Lynde, but the latter did not speak, returning -the glance in interested silence. - -"For some time past," he continued, "I have been missing large sums of -money from my desk. I can't understand how it can be, unless some of -the servants have a duplicate key; but though I have set every sort of -trap, it is utterly impossible for me to catch the thief. Last night -the climax was reached! I concluded that as the thief knew so well the -place where I kept my money, that I would put it out of the house. -Well, Pyne, it seems that the scoundrel was compelled to have money, -for my wife's diamond bracelet was taken. Strangely enough there were -other jewels there of much greater value, but they were left and the -bracelet taken. Mrs. Chandler placed it in the casket with her own -hands last night after her maid had left the room, so that we cannot -think Nichette the guilty one; but who is it? I want you to advise me -what to do!" - -"It is a strange thing," said Pyne, musingly; "there seems to be but -one course--put a detective to work on it." - -"Oh, hang a detective! Do you suppose I want my whole house carried -off? That would be the result if I put a detective on it. They are -constitutional liars, Pyne. If one of them told me that one of the -servants was guilty, I would suspect any one in the house sooner than -the one he named. You must suggest something different from that, or I -shall have to let them rob me in silence." - -"But suppose I could get a woman----" - -"That makes no difference. I don't believe in professional detectives, -male or female." - -"Then I am afraid that I see no way----" - -"Pardon me, Mr. Pyne, but this gentleman has expressed a dislike only -for _professional_ detectives. If I can be of any assistance to you in -that way or any other, I shall be only too pleased." - -The words were spoken by Leonie Cuyler, and Lynde turned and looked at -her in surprise. - -"You!" he exclaimed. "What could you do?" - -"I don't know; but I should like to try to find the thief for--this -gentleman. I think I could succeed." - -"How should you begin?" he asked, regarding her curiously. - -"It would be impossible to tell, sir, until I had seen the premises, -and knew the story in detail." - -"But I can't spare you!" exclaimed Pyne, by no means well pleased. - -"It will not require all my time, sir," cried Leonie, eagerly. "I could -keep up with your work quite as well, except, perhaps, the private part -of it; and I might get through in a few days." - -Lynde's astonishment over the girl's request was infinitely greater -than at Chandler's story. Still, he readily saw that she had some -strong reason for making it and hesitated to deny her. - -"Let her try, Pyne," exclaimed Chandler. "It can't make any difference, -and if she has not succeeded in a few days she can return, and no harm -done. Somehow she has inspired me with confidence. Surely, you will be -willing to inconvenience yourself for a day or a week for an old friend -of all these years' standing?" - -The words were spoken in an aggrieved tone that always brought Pyne to -terms. - -"Of course, if you make a point of it, I can say nothing further," he -answered, endeavoring to conceal his annoyance. "When will you want her -to go?" - -"At once. You will come as my guest, Miss Cuyler?" - -"I should prefer not, sir. Under those circumstances some explanation -would have to be made to your wife and daughter. Pardon me, sir, but -all women are more or less alike, and are liable to expose what we most -wish to conceal. If it is known that you have a detective in the house, -the thief will be on his guard and difficult to detect. Have you any -need of an extra servant?" - -"Yes; one of the house-maids left to-day." - -"Then, sir, if you will give me the position I will endeavor to fill it -satisfactorily until you can fill my place better." - -"And you don't wish my wife or daughter to know?" - -"I should prefer not." - -"Are you ready, Miss----" - -Chandler hesitated, and Pyne supplied the name: - -"Cuyler." - -"If I am to be your servant," interrupted the girl, "you must call me -Leonie!" - -"Yes, to be sure, to be sure! Can you go now? We can concoct our story -as we go." - -"I should prefer to follow you, sir. It might look rather suspicious if -we went there together." - -"Right again! You will have tracked that thief by the end of the week. -If you do--well, Leonard Chandler never forgot a service yet." - -Leonie colored. She was about to tell him that what she would do would -not be through the hope of reward, and only checked herself in time. -She bowed gravely. - -Being assured that she would follow him without loss of time, Chandler -left, and Pyne turned eagerly to Leonie. - -"Why were you so anxious to go there?" he asked, making no endeavor to -mask his curiosity. - -"I beg that you will not ask me--at least, not yet," she answered, -controlling her trembling by a violent effort. "There are reasons that -make me desire it. If I have displeased you I am very sorry, but----" - -"I beg that you will not speak like that to me, Miss Cuyler," he -replied, with an impatient wave of his hand. "If you wish it, that is -quite enough for me, but I do not think you realize what you are doing. -I know that you are gently born and bred, whatever misfortunes may have -befallen you; and you have forgotten what it is like to enter a house -as a servant, and the indignities to which you will be subjected." - -"And you forget that if any such thing occurs I can leave upon the -instant." - -"True!" - -"Don't try to discourage me, Mr. Pyne, I entreat----" - -"It is such an absurd thing," he interrupted again; "I cannot bear to -have you go there. Something tells me it will not result well. Leonie, -give it up!" - -In his earnestness he did not notice that he had called her by her -Christian name; but she heard, and colored to the very roots of her -hair. - -"Let me go!" she cried, in a trembling voice. "It can do no harm, -and----" - -"I can say nothing further, but my heart misgives me. If it should -bring trouble to you, I----" - -He turned away without completing the sentence, and with a heart that -tumultuously throbbed from a variety of emotions, Leonie went into the -next room and put on her hat. - - * * * * * - -"A lady to see you, sir." - -The door of Leonard Chandler's library was thrown open, and Leonie -Cuyler was ushered in. - -"Ah!" exclaimed Chandler, laying aside his paper, and looking at her -curiously through his gold-rimmed eye-glasses. "You are the young woman -I engaged as house-maid, are you not?" - -"Yes, sir," answered Leonie, the throbbing of her heart causing her to -speak timidly. - -"I thought so. Let me see. Your name you told me is Leonie, did you -not?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"This is Mrs. Chandler, my wife, and my daughter." - -Leonie raised her eyes to Evelyn Chandler's face. She remembered it -ever after as she saw it then--cold and proud, but more beautiful than -any face she had ever seen before. But as her eyes turned, after her -slight bow, a curious change came over the blonde countenance, and -Evelyn Chandler left the room more hastily than she usually did such -things. - -Alone in the hall, she allowed an expression of anxiety full play. Her -hands rested above her heart, and her brows were drawn in a peculiar -frown. - -"Leonie Cuyler!" she muttered. "What in Heaven's name is she doing -here?" - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -The first week passed almost without incident. - -Leonie came and went with the freedom of a servant, nothing that -occurred escaping her knowledge. She watched Lynde Pyne's visits to -the house with a sinking of the heart that was indescribable. Not a -thing out of the ordinary run of fashionable life had happened. She had -discovered nothing either of the thief or Miss Chandler's mysterious -connection with herself, and she was beginning to think she never would. - -It was the evening of one of Mrs. Chandler's most pretentious dinner -parties, at which the wealth and fashion of New York had been largely -represented, and Evelyn Chandler, in a _decollete_ gown of gray _crepe_ -and La France roses, had rarely appeared to greater advantage, her -sparkling wit and brilliancy of humor making her the attraction of the -evening. - -From a distance Leonie looked on, her rebellious heart throbbing with -something very like envy, a sentiment of which she was infinitely -ashamed, but seemed unable to control. Lynde Pyne, too, was there, and -a short conversation had taken place between them that had convinced -her that he loved the heiress, though he was doubtful of the success of -his suit. She had rarely if ever been more miserable than when she saw -the last guest depart. - -She was dragging herself wearily to her room when a slight noise in an -adjacent hall attracted her. The subdued sound aroused her suspicions, -and slipping her slippers from her feet she advanced silently toward it. - -"What are you doing here again?" she heard a voice ask in a whisper, a -voice so evidently Evelyn Chandler's that there was no room left for -doubt. - -"I have come for money!" a man replied, in a half dogged, wholly -defiant sort of way. - -"What, again?" - -"Yes, and I must have it now!" - -"But I have not a dollar in the world." - -"That is not true; and if it were you could get it easily enough, as -you have done before." - -"You told me, when I gave you the first thousand, that that would be -the last." - -"You were not fool enough to believe it, were you?" - -"Well, when is it to end?" - -"When I come in possession of a million and can afford to live on my -own money." - -"Have you no regard for the danger to me?" - -"When you put it on a sentimental basis, my dear, you might ask if I am -not very tired of living without you. In that instance I should answer, -yes. I think old Moneybags would give you to me fast enough if he knew -as much as you and I do. Which do you prefer, my dear?" - -The girl shuddered, and Leonie fancied she heard it there in the -stillness. - -"How much do you want this time?" she asked, making no effort to -conceal the dull anger of her tone. - -"A thousand will do." - -"Impossible!" - -"You always say so, but it invariably comes when you know it must! If -you can't get the money, another diamond bracelet will do." - -Leonie's start almost betrayed her presence there. Evelyn Chandler, -then, the heiress and beauty, one of the rulers of New York society, -was the thief whom she had come there to apprehend. The thought was -horrible to her. - -"Will this be the last?" cried Miss Chandler, in a strained voice. - -"Not by any means, my dear. You must learn to save more for me out of -your dress money. I tell you what I will do. Give me this thousand and -I will be easy on you. You can give me a stated amount, so that you can -make your arrangements to have it ready at the beginning of each month, -and I will make no further demands upon you. Will that do?" - -"How much will you want?" - -"Well, say three hundred a month!" - -"Never! If you keep this up you will make it impossible for me to do -anything. I will give you two hundred, and that is the last cent." - -"We-ll," grumbled the man hesitatingly, "it is a beggarly amount, -considering all you have, but as I don't want to kill the goose that -lays the golden egg, I suppose I must yield the point. Now get me the -thousand and let me go before we are discovered." - -"There is one thing I want to say to you first. Who do you suppose is -here in this house?" - -"I have not an idea." - -"Leonie Cuyler!" - -"The devil! What is she doing here?" - -"She is engaged as house-maid, but there is some mystery about it that -I cannot fathom." - -"As sure as you live that old idiot, Godfrey Cuyler, sent her here for -a purpose. If you are smart, my girl, you will get rid of her without -loss of time." - -"But how am I to do that?" - -"I think I can manage it for you. It is an infernally dangerous thing, -and what is dangerous for you is for me. I'll think about it and write -to you to-morrow. Go and get the money now." - -"You promise me that you will keep your word about the two hundred in -future?" - -"Yes, I do. I don't want to be hard on you. You had better be in a -hurry. It is not safe for me to be in this house." - -Knowing that it was worse than useless to argue the matter with him, -and also knowing that he was perfectly right about his own and her -insecurity, she heaved a sigh and turned away. - -In the darkness her skirts touched Leonie's in passing, but she was -unconscious of it, and flitted silently down the broad stairs, guiding -her steps by passing her fingers along the wall. - -Leonie followed noiselessly, scarcely daring to draw her breath. - -Into the library Miss Chandler went, closing the great heavy door -behind her. - -Leonie stood for a moment nonplused. She could not open the door -without Miss Chandler being aware of it, and that she did not desire. - -A sudden idea seemed to strike her, and passing swiftly through the -drawing-room, she entered the conservatory and silently drew back the -portiere that separated it from the library. - -By the dim light she could see Miss Chandler quite distinctly. - -She had already possessed herself of a key by some means, and was -unlocking the desk in which Leonard Chandler had told Leonie he kept -his money. - -The beauty of the blonde face was marred by an expression of great -anxiety, but there seemed to be not the slightest repugnance at the -disgusting act she was performing; on the contrary, there was a smile -of relief when she found that the drawer contained an even greater -amount than she required. - -With unusual deliberation she counted out the money, laid it on the -desk, replaced what was left, and relocked the drawer. She picked -up the money, and was about to leave the room, when Leonie stepped -forward, allowing the portiere to fall behind her. - -The hand that held the money fell upon the desk, and Miss Chandler -gazed at the girl aghast. - -Leonie did not speak, but waited until Miss Chandler had fully -recovered herself. - -"Why are you here at this hour?" the heiress demanded, haughtily. -"Surely you know that the servants are not allowed to be roaming over -the house in the middle of the night." - -"I am not a servant, Miss Chandler," answered Leonie, with dignity, -"but a detective whom your father placed here to locate a thief! I am -sorry to say that I have found her." - -"What do you mean?" - -The tone was haughty enough, but the blue eyes faltered, and the cheeks -were white as death. - -"I mean," answered Leonie, firmly, "that I shall have to report to -Mr. Chandler that the thief whom he has sworn to prosecute is his own -daughter." - -Leonie laid her hand upon the burglar alarm that the room contained. -She had no intention of ringing it, but was simply trying to frighten -Miss Chandler into putting the money back, and making a promise that -the operation never should be repeated. Much as she loathed the act, -much as she despised the girl who could descend to so vile a thing, she -had no wish to disgrace her or the family of which she was a member. - -But she was unprepared for what occurred. - -With a spring like that of a tigress, Evelyn Chandler was upon her, and -had seized her hand. - -"Do you know what you are doing?" she cried, hoarsely. "You would -disgrace me forever! I tell you that you shall not. Let go of that -bell, or as Heaven is my witness I will kill you, and escape before it -can be answered!" - -By the flash of demoniacal light in the blue eyes, Leonie saw that the -girl meant what she said. Her hand fell from the bell-cord. - -"Then put the money back," she said, as quietly as she could force -herself to speak. - -"Never!" exclaimed Miss Chandler, vehemently. "Do you think my father -would believe you if you told this story to him, and I was not here? -To-morrow you may tell him what you wish." - -"Then you propose to make me an accomplice to your act, so to speak, by -my remaining quiet, and saying nothing, while you rob your own father, -is that it?" cried Leonie, aghast at the girl's audacity. - -"Exactly!" replied Miss Chandler, firmly, the memory of her danger -overcoming her fear. - -"And I tell you," exclaimed Leonie with equal firmness, "that it shall -not be so! Put that money back, refuse in my presence to give that man -up-stairs any more, either now, or at any future time, and you are safe -from me. Refuse, and as God is my judge I will denounce you! You think -I am at your mercy. Look!" - -She had prepared for some such emergency, little thinking under what -circumstances she would require it; and as she spoke she produced a -small Derringer revolver, which she did not point toward Miss Chandler, -but with it clasped in one hand she calmly laid the other upon the -bell-cord. - -"Will you put that money back?" she asked, coolly. - -"No!" cried Miss Chandler, half wildly. "Denounce me if you will; -disgrace me, if you wish. Do you not think I will not tell the story of -your infamous birth? Do you think that I have not seen that you are in -love with Lynde Pyne? Ha, ha! Tell this if you wish. It will disgrace -me, and then I shall not hesitate to tell the world that you are the -daughter of Lena Mauprat, who was condemned to the penitentiary for -stealing. What if I am the daughter of the same mother, and but the -adopted child of Leonard Chandler? I am legitimate, while you are not!" - -Slowly the hand that held the bell-cord dropped. The one that held -the pistol relaxed its hold, and the weapon fell upon the chair that -was under it noiselessly, the dainty face became gray and drawn, and -without a cry or moan, Leonie Cuyler fell at her sister's feet. - -Godfrey Cuyler's terrible suffering was explained at last. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -A pale gray light, like a stray moonbeam glimmering upon the headstone -of a grave, crept into the room and softly touched the face of the girl -that lay upon the floor in a death-like swoon. - -There is an inexplicable something in magnetism that annihilates -distance and speaks louder than a human voice. - -It has baffled scientists for generations, and will for generations -more, yet its presence has been more or less felt by every one, like -the influence of a haunting but half-forgotten dream. - -Some such feeling disturbed the slumbers of Leonard Chandler. He tried -vainly to sleep, and at last, in sheer desperation, he arose, slipped -on his trousers, slippers, and dressing-gown, and sat down to that -consoler of man--a smoke. - -It had not, however, its usual influence. His nervousness increased -with each moment, until at last he sprung to his feet, the expression -of his countenance indicating great anxiety. - -"It is the same feeling that I had while I was being robbed the last -time," he muttered. "I wonder if it can mean anything? I am going down -to the library and sleep there on the couch to-night. No one will know -of my presence there, and it may be that I shall detect the thief -myself. Pshaw! It seems too absurd an idea to think of--and yet it can -do no harm. How Anna and Evelyn would laugh if they knew of this!" - -He hesitated, puffing out great volumes of smoke in his perplexity, -then turned resolutely toward the door. - -"They will have to laugh," he exclaimed aloud, compressing his lips -firmly. "Something tells me to go, and I must go!" - -He waited no longer, but opening the door softly, he went noiselessly -down the stairs, and silently opening the door of the library, passed -in. - -He advanced nearer to the desk, and, with a thrill of horror, saw the -revolver lying upon a chair. He leaned over to pick it up, and as he -did so his eyes fell upon the colorless face of the girl lying there. - -He shrunk backward with a suppressed cry, then quickly kneeled beside -her and placed his hand above her heart. It was slowly trembling. - -Rising hastily, he rung the bell violently. - -The sound clanged through the silent house like the iteration of the -cry of murder on the stilly night. It did not cease until servants and -family had hurriedly entered the room, their faces blanched with fear. - -"What is it?" cried Mrs. Chandler, her countenance white as Leonie's -own. - -"Heaven knows!" answered Chandler hastily, his brow contracted -curiously. "Look there! There is some mystery about this house. I think -we are about to get at the bottom of it." - -He pointed, as he spoke to the prostrate body upon the floor, then -lifted it himself to a couch. - -"Some of you do what you can to restore her," he ordered shortly. - -While the servants were obeying he took his keys from his pocket, and -with a hand that had grown steady under excitement, he opened the -drawer that had contained his money. - -He quickly found the roll, brought home the night before to meet an -obligation the following morning at nine o'clock, and counted it. - -Exactly one thousand dollars gone! - -He picked up the pistol and looked at it carefully. Every chamber was -full. - -With compressed lips and a countenance of dangerous resolution he laid -it down, and turned toward Leonie again. The first person to confront -him was his daughter. - -"More money missing?" she asked, with a show of anxious interest, yet -capitally assumed innocence. - -"A thousand!" he answered, almost shortly. "There is one consolation in -it. I shall soon know the thief! I would give a thousand, or even ten, -to know that!" - -He left her and, stepping to the side of the couch, he stood with -folded arms awaiting Leonie's restoration to consciousness. He neither -spoke nor moved, but stood like a statue through the moments that -seemed like hours until the eyes opened, and with an air of great -bewilderment Leonie sat up. - -With the fingers of one hand pressed upon her temple, Leonie slowly -arose from her reclining position, her eyes traveling from one place to -another vaguely. They rested at last upon the blonde beauty that had -ruled New York society with an iron hand, and with a long breath, that -was a half articulated sound, she tottered to her feet. - -Evelyn Chandler's heart gave a great bound, then seemed to stand -dangerously still. - -Leonard Chandler was perplexed beyond expression. - -"Leonie," he said calmly, "you were in this room when it was robbed, -were you not?" - -She nodded without speaking. - -"Who did it?" - -She hesitated, her eyes still upon his face. - -"Why do you not answer?" he asked, almost roughly. - -"I cannot!" she replied, so hoarsely that no one would have recognized -her voice. - -Mr. Chandler was rigid as marble. - -"Do you realize," he said, impressively, "that your refusal leaves a -shadow upon some member of my family?" - -"That cannot be," Leonie answered with painful effort. "What need would -any member of your family have to steal?" - -"It was some one out of the house, then?" - -"It was some one--out of the house!" - -The pause was so long before the most important word, that when it was -spoken Evelyn Chandler almost betrayed herself by a sigh of relief. She -knew that her secret was safe, yet there was nothing of gratitude in -her feeling toward Leonie. On the contrary, she detested her all the -more that she owed it to her. - -Behind her relief the sound of the voice of the man who had adopted her -came to Evelyn. - -"Do you know that your refusal to convict a thief under the -circumstances makes you an accessory to his crime, and punishable with -him?" he was saying, his eyes steely with anger. - -The violet eyes never faltered. - -"I beg that you will not do that sir, for--my--father's sake. He is old -and--has but--me. Surely you will not----" - -"You shall go to jail if you persist in your refusal to answer me!" -cried Chandler, without the softening of a muscle in his face. "I will -give you until morning to decide." - -"It will be useless, I cannot alter my determination. But--is there -nothing that you can say? Surely you will pray him only to let me go -free?" - -She had turned to Evelyn Chandler and extended her arms. The lovely -face was quivering with anguish, the eyes glistened with a fire that -no tears could quench, the sweet mouth trembled piteously, but Miss -Chandler returned the glance with one that was half sneering, wholly -defiant. - -"I never interfere in any of my father's matters," she said, coldly: -"he is quite right. If you know the thief, you should be forced to tell -who it is." - -Too dumb from anguish to realize the extreme audacity of the girl who -could stand before her and so coolly make a speech like that, yet -seeing that she had nothing to hope for in that quarter, Leonie turned -away with a weary groan. - -"I have nothing more to say," she exclaimed, dully. "I pray that you -will spare me for my father's sake. Oh, dad, dad! you tried to save me -from this but I would not let you. God help you and me!" - -Regardless of their presence, or perhaps forgetful of it, the unhappy -girl sunk upon the floor, and covering her white face with her hands -rocked her body to and fro miserably. - -Twice Leonard Chandler spoke to her, but she did not hear; then -motioning the others from the room, he, too, passed out, and turning -the key in the lock upon the outside, he left her there a prisoner. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -The house had barely become quiet again than a noiseless step descended -the stairs, a light hand turned the key in the door of the library, and -Evelyn Chandler once more entered the presence of her sister. - -"I have risked my father's displeasure to give you your liberty," -said Miss Chandler, coldly. "If you are wise, you will leave here at -once and forever. My father is a man whose justice is not tempered -with mercy. I tell you frankly that if he can find you he will most -certainly punish you as he has threatened to do." - -"You mean that you would allow him to do that?" Leonie asked, her voice -still unsteady almost to inarticulation. - -"What have I to do with it?" asked Miss Chandler, with calm scorn. "I -am not one of the emotional kind to become interested in criminals." - -"And is that all that you have to say to me?" - -"All? What more would you have me say?" - -"At least that you are sorry." - -"I repeat that I am not of a sentimental nature. I will say, however, -that I am sorry you forced this story from me." - -"Not for what you have done? Oh, my sister--for you are my -sister--listen to me. I don't know what that man is to you, but I beg -of you, for your own sake, not to do again the dreadful thing you have -done to-night. Think of the consequences!" - -A hard, cruel, sneering laugh rippled quietly through the elder girl's -lips. - -"Fancy the daughter of Lena Mauprat preaching honesty!" she exclaimed, -with heartless sarcasm. "My dear, are you anxious to know who that man -was who forced me to produce that money for him? Well, since I have -seen how perfectly I can trust you, I don't mind telling you that he -is my father, your mother's husband, an ex-convict, a gambler, and -presumably a thief. I am very anxious that his relationship to me -should not be known to my respected adopted father, who knows nothing -whatever of my parentage, save that they were poor. I am expecting to -make a brilliant marriage, thanks to my prospective millions, and I -cannot afford to spoil it with any romantic stories of convict fathers -and mothers. You are sensible enough to understand that, I am quite -sure, and will do nothing to spoil your sister's chances. Am I not -correct?" - -The speech was so heartless, so utterly cold-blooded, that Leonie, even -in her half-stunned condition, shuddered. - -"You have nothing to fear from me!" she answered wearily. "I don't seem -to realize just yet what has happened, but as I have been in ignorance -of your existence until to-night, I can try to forget, if you so wish! -Is there nothing kind that you can say to me, for our----" - -She had meant to say, "for our mother's sake," but the words stuck in -her throat and refused to be uttered. - -Miss Chandler laughed again. - -"Why did not you finish your sentence?" she asked brutally. "If you -will take my advice, my dear Leonie, you will leave here at once. I -cannot answer for the result if you remain until to-morrow." - -"At least you will say good-bye?" - -"With all the pleasure in life!" - -Weary, heart-sore, Leonie turned away. There was nothing that she could -say--nothing that she could do. - -Bowed down, feeling as though a century had been added to her years -since the night before, she crept away, and out to where the pale -streaks of red in a cool gray sky showed that the morning had broken. - -She was without hat or wrap, but did not seem to realize it as she -tottered on, apparently oblivious of surroundings, even of suffering! - -And so she reached the house that had been her happy home! How changed -everything seemed! Slowly, wearily she ascended the stairs and entered -the room where she and "dad" had passed so many pleasant hours. - -As she opened the door she saw that the room was not empty. - -In a large chair near the open window Godfrey Cuyler sat, his long -white hair slightly lifted by the breeze, his head resting upon the -back of the chair, his eyes closed in sleep. - -She stood above him, gazing silently down upon him, trying to think -while her brain seemed to be an impenetrable maze, yet through all the -gloom that surrounded her a single thought struggled through! How white -and wan he looked! Was she about to lose him in addition to the other -terrible trouble that had come upon her? - -As the thought came to her, a low groan of indescribable misery fell -from her lips. It awakened the sleeper. - -His eyes opened, and with a start he straightened himself in his chair. - -"You, Leonie!" he gasped. "In Heaven's name, what has happened?" - -She kneeled beside him and laid her lips upon his hand without -answering. - -The act frightened him as perhaps no other would. He fell back, his -face became ashen, his lips blue. A cold moisture, like the dew of -death, stood thickly upon his brow. - -"Leonie," he said, his voice sounding strangely thick and guttural, -"where have you been for the past week that you could not tell dad?" - -She lifted her white, anguished face and allowed her eyes to rest upon -his. - -"I have been with Leonard Chandler!" she answered dully. - -Why he did not die at that moment was a mystery, but the shock seemed -to rather paralyze than excite him. His lips grew a shade bluer and -trembled, but that was the only evidence of emotion. - -"And you know all?" he asked hoarsely. - -"Not all, but, oh, dad, I know I am the daughter of a thief, and it is -enough, enough. Dad, dad, why did you do it?" - -The misery of the young voice would have been exquisite torture to him -had he not been deprived of the capacity of feeling. His brain seemed -to act in a way, yet his emotional organs were stunned. He took her by -the shoulders and looked her earnestly in the eyes. - -"My darling," he murmured, his voice scarcely audible, "do you think -I brought that shame into your life? Your mother was my daughter, my -dearest! Oh, Leonie, Leonie, I have tried so hard to keep this hideous -thing from you, for this--for this! Child, child, why did you do it?" - -"It is better so, dad, much better! It has shown me what my life must -be, and my--dreams--were--different. Somehow I feel better to know that -you are not my father, that you did not bring this shame upon me! Oh, -dad, why can we not die together and end it all?" - -A curious expression crept over the white, still face of the old man, -but he made no comment, only smoothed down the bright, beautiful hair -with a hand that trembled peculiarly. - -"Now that you know so much, my little one, I must tell you all," he -stammered, wearily. - -He tried to rise, but the effort it cost was beyond his strength. - -"Look in the desk there and get me the picture you saw," he whispered, -handing her a key. - -Mechanically she obeyed, and handed it to him with the case unopened. -He pressed the spring and revealed the pictured face to her. - -"It was your mother," he said, almost reverently. - -She took the portrait from his hand and gazed upon it. For the first -time the glazed eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall. - -"It is very like--her," she said, slowly. "Oh, dad! what have I done -that God should send a curse like this upon me?" - -"Hush, dear! You must not question the wisdom of God. Bear your burden -meekly, and He will help you in the end. Oh, Leonie! why would not you -let me save you?" - -"I could not, dad. You must not blame me. What right had I, the -daughter of a thief----" - -"You shall not say that--she was your mother! Listen to her story, -and see if you cannot find an excuse for her, even as I did. Listen, -Leonie! I will make the story as short as I can." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -Godfrey Cuyler paused. - -His face was growing more gray momentarily, his breathing seemed forced -and unnatural, there was a curious, quick throb about his heart that -was ominous, but Leonie did not observe it in her bewildered state. She -might have noticed that he was pale, but she attached no significance -to it. - -When he could control himself sufficiently, he began his story. - -"I don't know how to tell you what Lena was to me in her childhood," -he said, brokenly. "Her mother died when she was a little child, and I -had only her. Ah, Leonie, I worshiped her! We were wealthy then, and -there was never a desire of hers that I left ungratified. I devoted -my life to her--watching her grow as a miser does his fortune. She -was my idol, and God punished me, as He promised to do all those who -worshiped outside of Himself. She was only eighteen--young, lovely; oh! -I can never describe her to you as she was when she met Ben Mauprat. -She could have married a prince, but she fell in love with that -scoundrel, and while I pleaded with her upon bended knee to give him -up, she eloped with him as soon as my back was turned, and the tragedy -of her life began. He was a gambler, a libertine--there was nothing -under heaven that was low and vile that he was not. To save him from -the penitentiary I spent money--thousand after thousand, until I had -reduced myself almost to beggary--and the end came! When he could get -no more money from me he robbed a bank, was detected, and sentenced to -the penitentiary for ten years." - -There was a long pause for rest, then, with only an increased pallor in -the face, Godfrey Cuyler continued: - -"At that time I was living in New Orleans, but that city, being too -small for Ben Mauprat, he brought his wife to New York. Evelyn was then -about three years of age, and as like her in appearance as could be. -When Ben was sent to the penitentiary my poor girl wrote to me, but the -letter never reached me. That was the cause of all the after suffering. -She thought that I had deserted her, and that made her reckless. Oh, -Lena, Lena! You should have known me better, my darling!" - -For the first time emotion overcame him, and bowing his head upon his -hand, the old man sobbed aloud. - -A choking sensation followed. He gasped once or twice for breath, then -in a much more feeble and broken voice, he continued: - -"She was penniless, helpless, and had that child to support. Well, -Leonie, the result of it was that Mrs. Chandler, in her charity rounds, -saw the child, fell in love with it, and convinced by Lena of the -perfect respectability of the child's parentage, she adopted it. She -knew nothing of the baby's father, but believed him to be dead. How can -I tell you the rest?" - -The white lips trembled. He endeavored to moisten them, but his tongue -seemed as dry and parched as the lips. Still by a mighty effort he went -on: - -"Lena went to live with a family of decent surroundings, though -poor. She had a little room in the house, and took in sewing enough -to support herself; but it was a terrible existence, one day -having bread, the next day none, haunted continually by the fear of -starvation. Well, at last Satan succeeded in accomplishing her utter -destruction. So small a matter as the water-works in the house where -she lived, almost upon the charity of the people, got out of order. The -owner of the house came himself to see what repairs were necessary. He -saw Lena. I have told you that she was beautiful. Leonie, he fell in -love with her. Then the temptation of her life began. They told her how -rich and proud he was, that there was scarcely a family in the city who -could compare with his in point of birth and wealth, but that pride was -his fault. Darling, that man was Roger Pyne!" - -"What!" - -That name had power to arouse Leonie from a lethargy as none other had. - -She sprung to her feet, but as she caught sight of Godfrey Cuyler's -face, she sunk back again with a low sob of anguish. - -"He was the uncle of the man who was your employer," he continued, the -effort to speak growing more painful with each moment. "He fell in love -with her. Believing that poverty was the only disgrace that attached to -her, Roger Pyne called upon her and proposed marriage. Leonie, she was -starving. She was so bitterly alone, so helpless, there was none near -to guide her in the right path, every hope had been taken out of her -life---- Oh, what shall I say to make you see her fault in a merciful -light? God knows how hard it is to resist a temptation like that! She -knew that if he knew the story of her life he would never marry her, -and to her the protection he offered meant heaven. Leonie, Leonie, she -married him, never telling him the history of her life, or that she had -a living husband in the penitentiary!" - -"My God!" - -The exclamation fell like ice from the cold lips, but the expression of -Leonie's face did not alter. - -"A week later he discovered all," the old man went on dully. "In his -terrible anger he cast her off without a penny; he went to Europe and -left her here to starve. For several months she lived the same way that -she had done before, barely keeping soul and body together; then you -were born! I can never tell you what it was after that. Mrs. Chandler -was also in Europe. Lena wrote to me many times, but the letters never -reached me, and at last starvation came! She saw you dying before her -very eyes, dying for want of food, and she unable to help you. - -"Made desperate by her terrible extremity, she rushed out into the -street and snatched a purse from a man. It contained only twenty little -pitiful dollars, not one of which she had used; but she was arrested, -tried, as her husband had been, and--God! how can I say it?--was -convicted. I read the story in the papers. How I ever lived to reach -her is more than I can tell. There were no extenuating circumstances -printed, she was poor and friendless. There was no mention made of -her marriage to Roger Pyne, but only the cold story of her crime. Oh, -Leonie, my child---- But what is the use in attempting to tell you what -I suffered? No words could ever describe it. I reached her in time to -see her die, to hear her story, to have you confided to my care, and -that was all. She died in the Tombs prison. It took all the soul out -of my body, but I knew that I must live for your sake. I could not go -back again to my old home, where everything reminded me of her, and so -I settled here in this great city, where no man knows his neighbors' -business or cares to know. As I watched you grow, the same love that I -had given to Lena I felt for you. Then the desire that grew to mania -came that you might never know of the shadow upon your birth. Oh, how I -prayed that you might be spared that; and now--Leonie----" - -There was another gasp for breath, a wild clutching at the collar, and -for the first time Leonie saw. She sprung to her feet and seized his -hand wildly. - -"Dad," she gasped--"dad! in Heaven's name what is the matter?" - -"Nothing," he answered, his throat closing over the word with a -peculiar choking. "You must--not be--frightened. I--am--often--so." - -"Not like that. Oh, God, dad! it looks like--death!" - -His face was not more ghastly than her own. She had forgotten the -terrible secret of her birth, forgotten her mother's suffering, -forgotten everything save the danger that was menacing him. - -"Hush!" he whispered, the sound a feeble effort. "My little one, my -little one--you do--not--blame dad?" - -"Blame you? Oh, my darling, my darling! what does life contain for me -but you? Dad, dad! look at me. Tell me that you will not leave me. Dad, -speak to me." - -"The--will of--God----" - -"Surely God will not take you from me when you are all I have! Let me -go for a doctor, quick." - -"No; I should die alone while you were gone. I knew--the end--was near -before--you came--and I prayed--God--to send--you before--it was--too -late. He heard--my prayer--I am--grate--ful. Darling--it has come. It -is---- Good-bye forever now!" - -"Oh dad, dad, dad! take me with you. I cannot remain here so bitterly -alone with this hideous disgrace, this frightful secret bearing me -down. Let me go, too." - -She leaped to her feet wildly, unmistakable insanity glittering in her -eyes, and seized a knife that lay upon the table. - -Godfrey Cuyler lifted his half glazed eyes and looked at her. Although -death was upon him he realized her intention. Struggling to his feet -he caught the back of his chair with one hand, and with the other he -grasped the knife. - -God lent him strength for the moment; he wrenched the knife from her -and flung it from him. It fell through the open window. - -She pitched headlong upon the floor insensible. He fought back death -to lean above her, but a spasm of the heart seized him. He flung -himself around and fell back into his chair. The muscles relaxed after -a moment, the eyes rolled upward, and limp, utterly lifeless, the body -of Godfrey Cuyler lay, when they found him there an hour later, with -Leonie still upon the floor at his feet. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -It was the girl whom Leonie had engaged to cook Godfrey Cuyler's meals -during her sojourn at Leonard Chandler's who found them there. - -She gave the alarm, and several women, and men, as well, hastily -answered the summons. - -Little was known of the Cuylers among the tenants of the house, as they -were people who had few associates, but a doctor was brought, and the -living separated from the dead. - -He it was who examined some of their effects, and finding only the -address of Lynde Pyne, sent a messenger to his office. - -He was not in so early in the morning, and it was not until nearly ten -o'clock that the note the physician had sent reached him. - -He did not even remove his coat and hat, but turning to his office boy, -gave a hasty order: - -"If any one calls, say that I will return by noon, if not earlier." - -"But, sir, Mr. Chandler has been here already. He seemed very much -put out that you were not here, and said that he would call again at -half-past ten." - -For a moment Lynde stood gnawing the ends of his mustache in -perplexity, then, with an impatient wave of the hand, he turned away. - -"Say that I could not wait, but that I will call at his office at one," -he exclaimed, leaving the room almost at once. - -Once in the street, he called a cab, and giving the driver the address -the physician had provided, he ordered him to drive quickly. - -It was with feelings of decided relief that he sprung from the cab as -it paused before the door of a poor but respectable lodging-house. - -Five minutes later the door of Leonie's room opened to admit him. She -had recovered from her swoon, but lay almost lifeless upon the chair in -which her grandfather had died. - -In as few words as possible the physician explained what had occurred, -after Lynde had introduced himself, and at the latter's request he was -left alone with Leonie. - -She was not even cognizant of his presence when he drew a chair to her -side and took her hand. - -She drew back when she recognized him, as though another terrible -misfortune had befallen her. - -"You!" she whispered. "How came you here?" - -"They told me you were in trouble and I came at once," he answered -tenderly. "My poor little girl, is there nothing that I can do for you?" - -"Nothing! nothing, but to leave me alone! That is all, that is all!" - -She shivered horribly and arose, pacing up and down the floor, her -great wild eyes restlessly roving from one object to another. - -He watched her for a few moments, fascinated by the peculiar magnetism -of her sufferings, then arose, and laying his arm about her shoulders, -he took her hand. There was nothing impertinent in his act, only the -sincere interest of one whose heart is deeply touched. - -"Leonie," he said, gently, "let me do something to help you bear your -terrible sorrow. It breaks my heart to see you like this while I sit -helplessly by. You must not grieve so. They tell me he was old. Think, -dear! He has borne his burden of life, and perhaps now is happy and at -peace with God. You could not expect to keep him with you always. Are -you not a little selfish, dear? Try to think of it as the will of God, -and----" - -"Oh, I can't!" she interrupted, her teeth chattering under her fearful -suffering; "he was all on earth I had. In the whole world there is -no human being left for me. I am as much alone as though my little -craft rocked in mid-ocean with only the waves surrounding me. Oh, God! -You cannot think what that means until you have been left so. I have -nothing left me but suffering and----" - -She had meant to say disgrace, but the word was drowned in a horrible -groan. She fell into a chair, and holding to the back buried her face -upon her arm. Lynde Pyne stood beside her. He laid his hand upon her -bowed head, and smoothed the soft hair caressingly. - -The expression of his face was one of keenest pain. - -"Leonie," he said, pausing between each word as though to control an -almost irresistible desire, "you must not speak with such despair. You -are not--alone. If a steadfast friendship--the love of a--brother--will -be a consolation to you, I offer you myself. Leonie, little girl, trust -me." - -"Trust you?" she echoed; "with my whole heart. Ah! what am I saying? -Forget it! I--I am weak--too miserable to think. Mr. Pyne, if you have -any pity for me, I beg that you will go away. I cannot--come to--you -again to do the work----" - -"Don't speak of that now. What do I care for the work or anything else, -when you are in trouble like this? Leonie, don't look like that! Oh, -child! if I might only bear it for you. You must not send me away, -dear! There is so much to be done, and I must do it for you. Have you -no woman friend?" - -"No. Dad and I have lived all alone, caring only for each other. Oh, -dad! why did you leave me with this frightful burden to bear alone? Why -could you not take me with you? I feel as if I were going mad." - -"Hush, dear! There are others to whom you are necessary. Leonie, I must -tell you, great sin though I am committing in doing so. My darling, -I love you with all the soul in my body, with all the strength of my -being. Can you not see it? Do you not know it? Leonie, what have I said -to cause you to look at me like that?" - -"You love me?" she whispered, the words more a breath than an -articulation--"you love me?" - -"Dearest, can you doubt it? I know that I am the greatest scoundrel -living, to tell you so. But how can I see you in such distress and not -speak, when my heart is full to overflowing? Darling, look at me." - -She had buried her face in her hands, and was rocking herself to and -fro in her abandonment to a grief that was well nigh killing her. At -his command she dropped her hands exposing to him an expression of -agony that he had never seen equaled. With a suppressed cry he took -her in his arms and covered her lips with passionate kisses. - -"My love, my love, you madden me!" he whispered. "What terrible shadow -is it that is darkening your life? You love me! I see it in the -expression of your sweet, sad eyes, and yet the knowledge of my love -brings you but pain. Leonie, what is it?" - -"I cannot tell you," she cried hoarsely. "I entreat you to leave me! -I will tell you that there is a shadow upon my life, the knowledge of -which reached me within the last few hours, that has forever wrecked my -happiness. There is no relief that can ever come to me but death! If -I love you, it but makes the curse the greater, and the assurance of -reciprocation is anguish!" - -"You love me, then? Tell me but that!" - -"Love you!" - -She crushed his hand beneath hers and arose, staggering as though -beneath the weight of a physical burden. He sprung to his feet and took -her by the shoulders, his beautiful face quivering with emotion. - -"You are tempting me to the first dishonorable act of my life," he -cried, almost fiercely. "I love you as no man ever loved a woman -before. My whole soul seems swallowed up in my passion! I am the -betrothed husband of another woman, but you have but to speak the word -to make me false to my promise! I will give up everything for you, even -to life itself were that necessary. I care not what shadow darkens your -existence. Say but the word, promise that you will be my wife, and I -will throw aside every consideration for your sake! Leonie, speak to -me!" - -His passion seemed to quiet her. Not since her entrance to the library, -where she had discovered something of that fearful secret, had she been -so calm. She did not attempt to withdraw herself from him, but gazed -into his face with a devotion he never forgot. - -"I thank you for your words," she said brokenly. "Perhaps they have -saved me from suicide or a madhouse. I think I have suffered this day -as no woman ever did before, yet I would go through it all again before -I would have you false to your vow. There are reasons why, even if no -pledge existed, you could never make me your wife. I tell you this -because it may be a comfort to you in the after years. It is good-bye -now forever, for from this hour to see each other would be dishonor." - -"And you can speak of it so calmly?" - -"I can, because my heart is broken." - -"And you think that I will give you up, knowing that you love me? -Never! I will go to Miss Chandler and tell her the truth. I will say to -her----" - -"Wait!" - -The interruption came from Leonie. - -She had wrenched herself from his arms, and was standing gazing into -his face in an almost stupid way, her eyes expressive of paralyzing -horror. She was bending slightly forward, her lips parted, her -countenance drawn to distortion. - -"You are betrothed to Evelyn Chandler?" she asked, in a strained -undertone. - -"Yes." - -"My God!" - -She lifted her hand to her brow as though to clear her brain. - -What was she to do? The situation was hideous to her, and yet she felt -herself utterly incapable of revealing the story of her own life and -her sister's. But could she in justice allow an innocent man to marry a -thief, the daughter of a convict, when she could save him? - -To speak would ruin her sister, throw her upon the world as a beggar -to fall to the lowest depths of infamy, as Leonie knew she would. To -remain silent would very likely result in the ruin of the man she loved. - -As she stood revolving the terrible alternative in her mind the door -opened, and a blue-coated officer entered the room. - -"Are you Leonie Cuyler?" he asked, standing before the shrinking girl. - -"I am," she faltered. - -"Then you are my prisoner!" - -He laid his hand roughly upon her shoulder and turned her toward the -door. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -The horror of the situation struck Lynde Pyne with paralyzing force, -but his was one of those natures that recovers all the more quickly, -the more powerful the blow. - -With instinctive kindness he drew the girl's arm through his own, and -by his strength steadied her tottering feet. - -"Lead the way!" he said to the officer. "We will follow you." - -He turned to Leonie, all his heart seeming to glow through his eyes. - -"Do not fear," he whispered. "I will save you. My poor girl, my -suffering one, you must trust me, and know that your sorrows are mine. -I will bring you back here within the hour. You trust me, do you not?" - -She was too much dazed to reply. All intellectuality seemed frozen in -her. She was scarcely conscious of what he had been speaking. - -He hurried her onward that he might return with her all the sooner, -drawing her arm yet closer within his own protectingly. - -Once upon the street, he called a carriage, and together with the -officer, they entered it. - -He spoke but once to her on the way to the station-house, and then she -did not reply. He attempted no further conversation, but watched her -fearfully, noting with horror the stoniness of her countenance. - -She seemed to be unconscious of her surroundings when she was placed -in the narrow cell, and when they came to her again some time later, -they found her in the exact position in which she had been left. Not a -muscle seemed to have been disturbed. - -Lynde Pyne entered there with an officer. He took her by the hand, and -gently lifted her to her feet. - -"Come," he said, gently, "we will return to your home again." - -Some intelligence struggled to her eyes. - -"I am no longer a prisoner, then?" she asked, dully. - -"No!" - -"Will you explain it to me?" - -"There is so very little to explain! When we get home----" - -"No, now! You need not be afraid to tell me the worst. If anything -could have killed me or driven me mad, I should be dead to this -suffering now. Has--that man withdrawn the charge he made against me?" - -"N--o!" stammered Pyne. - -"I see! You forget that my experience has been in the office of a -lawyer. How much bail was required?" - -The interrogation was put to the officer, and not to Pyne. - -Disregarding, or not seeing the glance of warning from the latter, he -answered with the customary indifference of his class: - -"Fifteen hundred." - -Leonie groaned. Something in her face sent a quick thrill of -apprehension through Pyne, but as she fell back immediately into the -old apathy, he said nothing. - -Silently he led her to the waiting carriage, and they were driven again -to that house wherein death reigned. Wearily Leonie dragged herself -up the long, steep flight and into the room where she had only that -morning--but how long ago it seemed--heard the hideous story of her -mother's shame. - -She started to the room in which lay the body of her beloved dead, but -a solemn-faced man met her at the door and told her gently but clearly -that she could not enter. - -She made no resistance, but allowed Lynde Pyne to close the door and -place her in a chair beside the open window. - -Her faculties seemed to be entirely restored, but not a tear relieved -the terrible brilliancy of her eyes. - -With the death of hope and the birth of despair, had come a calm that -had the appearance of stoicism. - -Lynde Pyne kneeled beside her, and taking the small cold hands in his, -chafed them tenderly. - -"Leonie," he said gently, "I wish that you would trust me, dear! I wish -that you would remember that there is nothing in all this world that I -would not do for you if you would only let me. I wish that you would -try to think there is no trouble that I would not bear for you, if by -so doing, I could relieve you of sorrow. You know that I would do -that, do you not?" - -She bowed her head upon his hand, but neither sigh nor moan escaped her. - -"Child, you cannot bear this sorrow alone. Why will you not trust me?" - -"Because I cannot. It is part of the curse that is upon me that I must -suffer in silence. There is only one thing, and if you would promise -that, there would be a load lifted from my heart--a load of shame! What -am I saying? You must not listen to me, but---- You know that I love -you, do you not?" - -"Yes, I know that," he answered, with a curious intonation. - -"Well, listen! There are reasons that make it impossible for me to be -your wife, but"--holding his hands in a grasp like iron and looking -into his eyes with an earnestness that was terrible--"it would kill -me--to see--another--in the place--that honor--forbids me--to accept. -Lynde! Lynde! promise me, swear to me that you will not make Evelyn -Chandler your wife!" - -She had arisen and was standing over him, her hands still holding his, -her wild eyes gazing into his with a fierceness that was startling. - -He arose slowly and stood before her. - -"You wish me to break my word without cause!" he said, gently. "Give -me some reason for it. Let me say to Miss Chandler that I have been -mistaken, that I love another, and that that other will be my wife, -with her permission, and I consent. How could I go to her and tell her -that I must have my promise back without an excuse to offer?" - -"I don't know; but if you love me, if you would save me from a -madhouse, you will find a way. Lynde, promise me!" - -"Tell me, Leonie, what had Evelyn Chandler to do with this robbery?" - -He spoke the words slowly and impressively. She started, and for the -moment seemed about to faint, but quickly recovered herself. - -"Nothing!" she answered, in a ghastly sort of whisper. - -"Don't you know that they will force it from you upon the witness -stand? Don't you know that the most minute examination will be made -into your life and antecedents and hers? Do you think you can conceal a -fact from these men where a family like that is concerned? Why, there -will not be an incident from your birth to the present day that they -will not discover----" - -"Hush! You are driving me mad! I will find a way to prevent that if I -must seek death to do it. Oh, my God----" - -In her frightful excitement she might have told him all she knew and -saved herself from the terrible time that followed, had not the door -opened, and the undertaker entered. - -"If you wish, Miss Cuyler," he said, gently, "you may come in now." - -Bowed, broken in spirit, heart-sore and weary, she followed him. - -Mechanically, Lynde Pyne was about to follow her, when a messenger -entered bearing a note addressed to himself. - -He tore it open and read: - - "Come to your office at once. I must see you. - - "LEONARD CHANDLER." - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -Reluctantly enough, Lynde Pyne left the room in which the mortal -remains of Godfrey Cuyler lay, after having assured Leonie of his -immediate return, and went to the office where Leonard Chandler awaited -him. - -Upon the way, his reflections were not enviable ones. He felt quite -convinced that Leonie's agitation was not the result of her grief -occasioned by her grandfather's death. On the contrary, there was -something behind that seemed to overshadow death, and cause her almost -to forget it. - -What was it? and what had Evelyn Chandler to do with it? - -Those were the questions that he put to himself persistently, and to -which he found no answer. - -He gnawed his mustache in helpless silence, his brows drawn in a heavy -frown, and decided upon the only course open to him, to wait for the -assistance that time renders. - -That is not an easy method, particularly to an impulsive man, but it -was the only way. His humor, therefore, was not of the pleasantest when -he entered the office to which he had been so imperatively summoned. - -"Good-morning, Mr. Chandler!" he exclaimed rather somberly, shaking -hands. "I am sorry that you were forced to wait for me, but----" - -"Never mind that, sir," interrupted Chandler, not even the shadow of a -smile lighting the anger in his eyes. "I want an explanation from you, -sir. I understand that you furnished the bail under which that girl, -Leonie Cuyler, was released from jail. Is that true, sir?" - -"It is perfectly true!" - -"And you did that, knowing that I wished her to remain there until she -had sense enough not to decline to reveal the name of a thief?" - -"Pardon me, Mr. Chandler. I am afraid I did not think of your wishes -upon the subject at all. Miss Cuyler's grandfather, her only living -relative, died this morning. She was as devoted to him as any own child -could be, and in common humanity, if there had been no other reason, I -could not have allowed her to remain there." - -"What do you suppose I cared for her grandfather? That girl shall tell -who the thief who robbed my house was, or I will prosecute her to the -day of my death. I will spend every cent of money that I possess, but -what I will find out the truth of this affair. Do you understand that, -Mr. Pyne? Nothing in the shape of sentimentality shall deter me. That -girl went there for the purpose of convicting the thief, and she shall -do it." - -The words were spoken slowly, and with an emphasis upon each that -showed Lynde Pyne very clearly that his guest meant every word he -uttered, and more. - -Pyne raised his foot, placed it upon a chair, and leaned his arm upon -his knee with greatest nonchalance. - -His eyes were fixed upon Chandler's calmly, almost coldly. - -"Mr. Chandler," he said, impressively, "for several years I have been -your attorney. You have always followed my advice implicitly in every -instance, and there has never been a time when it has been incorrect! -Am I right?" - -"Yes." - -"Then there is reason why you should listen to me in this. Do not press -this case against Miss Cuyler. If you do you may regret it to the last -day of your life. Withdraw the charges you have made against her." - -"But I will not. Do you suppose that I will let a matter like that -rest? Never, I tell you. Leonie Cuyler shall speak, or the whole weight -of my fortune shall be turned against her. I direct you now to press -this thing to the last extremity. Let no stone go unturned. Move heaven -and earth to----" - -"Pardon me, Mr. Chandler. It is useless for me to allow you to go -further. If you persist in this heartless scheme I must resign from the -case. I cannot act where my client refuses to follow my directions." - -Chandler lifted his eyes aghast. - -"What!" he gasped. "You throw up all the business that I have put into -your hands because of that girl? You must be mad! Why, man, I will ruin -you!" - -"If you think you can you are perfectly welcome to try, but I tell you -frankly that you have not enough money in your possession to tempt me -to lift a finger against Leonie Cuyler." - -"And you dare to tell me this? You, the betrothed husband of my -daughter!" - -"I dare do anything that my conscience and my duty may dictate, Mr. -Chandler, regardless of other considerations." - -"Then I tell you, sir, that you shall never enter my doors again! -Remember that. If you presume to call, the servants will have -instructions to throw you out. And as for that Cuyler girl, I am all -the more determined that she shall be forced to tell all she knows, if -my entire fortune must be spent upon it. Good-morning, Mr. Pyne. I am -afraid that you will discover before you are through with it that this -morning's work is liable to cost you dear!" - -He banged the door behind him, and for many minutes Lynde Pyne stood -there looking at it intently, then he turned suddenly, with a short, -mirthless laugh. - -"I am afraid I have played the dickens!" he muttered. "But there seemed -to be nothing else for it. He will leave no stone unturned to force -this story from Leonie; she will emphatically refuse to answer, and -then--well, God knows what will come after the 'and then!' There is -nothing to think of now but burying that man, and getting at the bottom -of these facts that threaten such danger to Leonie." - -"Mr. Davidge is here to see you, sir!" said the office-boy, at his -elbow. - -"Tell him that I am out! That I have gone over to the courtroom about a -case that I have on. Tell him anything that comes into your head, but -don't let me be interrupted again to-day. Do you understand?" - -"Yes, sir." - -The boy had scarcely closed the door behind him than Pyne leaped to his -feet. - -"I must go and see about that funeral!" he exclaimed to himself. "That -poor child is there all alone, except for that ignorant mob. What a -relief it is to think that old Chandler broke that engage---- Bah! that -savored very strongly of cowardice and almost dishonor; but somehow I -can't help feeling that I am ten years younger." - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -The golden hue of a dying sun lit up the West, and shone with radiant -glory into the bare chamber where Leonie Cuyler sat, her head bowed -upon the arm of the chair in which her grandfather had died. - -She did not hear the knock that sounded upon the door, nor did she hear -it open, nor see the man who entered. - -He looked at her for a moment in silence, noting her extreme -gracefulness even in a position like that; he saw where the sun kissed -the bowed head as if in benediction; he understood the terrible grief -that hovered over her, and something like tears gleamed in his eyes as -he went forward and drew a chair close to her. - -"Leonie," he said, taking her hand gently, "arouse yourself, dear. Do -you think you are doing right to give way to your grief in this manner? -I know that it is hard to bear; but it must come to us all sooner or -later, and he is at rest! Does that thought bring you no consolation?" - -She lifted her head, a terrible shiver shaking her. - -"It is the only consolation that I have!" she answered drearily. "When -I remember how full his life was of sorrow that no time could ever have -lightened, I am glad that he is at peace with God. But the burden is -hard to bear, when I am so bitterly alone, oh, God! so horribly alone!" - -"Do I count for nothing, then?" - -"You are good to me, Mr. Pyne, so good that you are breaking my heart -afresh every hour; but in justice to you I cannot accept the friendship -that is so sweet to me. In mercy to myself I must refuse it! I have -been in the world so long that it is no secret to me what construction -is put upon the friendship of a man like you for a creature in my -sphere and----" - -"Leonie, I forbid you to speak like that. You know no more of what you -are saying than a three-months-old child. There is no man that will -have a right to question my motives when I say that I have asked you to -become my wife. I did not come here to-night to speak to you upon this -subject, nor shall I. You must listen to me--you must see the truth of -what I say, for there is no time to be lost. Have you forgotten that -to-morrow is the day set down for the hearing of your case?" - -Her hand closed over the arm of the chair, her teeth were set firmly, -her face became a shade more ghastly, but her voice was quiet as she -answered: - -"I had forgotten!" - -"Then it is quite time that you remember, Leonie. I have, without -your request, or even consent, constituted myself your attorney, and -it is to talk with you upon this subject alone that I have come here -to-night. I want you to feel the strength of my love sufficiently to -know that you may trust me in all things. Do you think that you can do -that?" - -"I know that I can trust you!" - -"Then tell me who committed that robbery!" - -"I cannot!" - -"I expected that answer, and yet you said that you could trust me. - -"Leonie, I entreat you, for your own sake, to tell me the truth about -this. If there is anything that ought to be concealed, I will help you -to the last day of my life to conceal it; but, for the love of Heaven, -don't place yourself in this hideous position without advice from some -one. Let me be the judge. Tell me the truth, and I swear to you upon my -honor that, if there is reason for the concealment I will help you to -it!" - -He paused for a moment, wiping away the moisture from his brow that -earnestness had brought there. - -Leonie straightened herself, and leaning forward, laid her hand upon -his. - -"I know that what you are saying to me is intended for my good alone," -she cried, in a choked voice, "and from the bottom of my heart I thank -you, but--I do not seem capable of thought to-night. I do not seem to -understand. You are so good to me that I feel that I can ask anything -of you, and therefore I beg that you will come to-morrow. Leave me this -night, my first without--dad--to myself, and to-morrow----" - -She could not complete the sentence, but turned away, hiding her -quivering face upon her arm. - -Pyne stood beside her, placing his arm about her. - -"I have been cruel, but it was the only way to save you," he whispered. -"Tell me that you forgive me?" - -"There is nothing to forgive," she answered, lifting her dull eyes -piteously. "If there should ever come a time when you feel that you -have something to forgive me for, remember that what I shall do will -always be for your good, will you not? Remember that however unworthy I -may be, that I loved you with all my heart, and---- Oh, go! I beseech -you, go! I am not myself! To-morrow----" - -She did not finish the sentence, but raised herself to her full height, -looked him in the face with a long, searching, hungry passion, lifted -his hand to her hot, dry lips, and pressing a burning kiss upon it, -passed hurriedly from the room. - -He looked after her for a moment irresolutely, half tempted to follow. - -"What does it mean?" he asked of himself. "Her manner was most -singular. Poor little girl. She is almost mad from this grief and -harassing. I wish I could have comforted her instead of adding to -it. Well, I will see her to-morrow, and I will save her in spite of -herself." - -He glanced longingly at the door through which she had vanished. - -Then restraining his inclination, he picked up his hat and left the -room. - -Leonie heard the closing of the door, and entered immediately. - -How dreary and desolate it seemed! - -Deliberately she had cut herself from him, leaving herself absolutely -alone, with not one human being that she could call her friend. - -A great pity for herself surged into her heart, pity for the loneliness -of her situation, for the isolation that had been thrust upon her -through no fault of her own. - -She sat down for a moment, burying her face in her hands; then she -lifted it, ghastly with fierce determination. - -"This is no time for inactivity or irresolution!" she cried -passionately. "I must follow the life that Heaven has seen fit to -fasten upon me without consent of mine. I am a nameless creature, -but I can still have the courage to save my sister. Lynde Pyne has -pledged himself to pay fifteen hundred dollars to the court to-morrow -in default of my presence. Virtually I am simply forcing a loan upon -him, for it shall be repaid to the last farthing. My weakness has -fallen from me like a mantle. When that is repaid, I can allow my grief -indulgence, but until then----" - -She drew pen, ink and paper to her, and began hastily to write the -following: - - "MY DEAR MR. PYNE,--Realizing all the truth of what you said to me - last night, I have decided to take matters into my own hands. When - you receive this, I shall be many miles from here. I understand the - fact of your being compelled to pay the fifteen hundred dollars for - which you stand pledged for me, but I promise that it shall be repaid - to the last penny with interest from date. Thanking you for the - kindly interest that you have taken in me, and trusting that you will - forgive me for this step that is the only one left me, I am - - "Very truly yours, - - "LEONIE CUYLER." - -Not once, but many times she read the note, taking it in her hands -to destroy it; then resolutely she placed it in an envelope, sealed, -addressed and stamped it. - -"It sounds ungrateful, harsh, unfeeling, but it is better so, -much better," she muttered, her lips drawn together coldly. "What -difference can my love make to him? It could only bring disgrace and -contamination. It could only fill him with loathing if he knew. He will -learn to despise me when he reads what I have written, and it is better -that he should." - -She hesitated no longer, but pinning on her hat, she went to the -bureau, and taking from it an old pocketbook, counted the few dollars -that remained in it; then she picked up her letter, and with it clasped -firmly in her hand, went into the street. - -An hour later she returned. She went to the glass and removed her hat. - -The beautiful hair that had been one of her crowning glories was gone, -and a little boyish head that she could scarcely recognize as her own -was reflected there. - -There was no satisfaction, only bitterness in the face that looked back -at her, and she turned without a murmur. - -She had begun her battle with life indeed! - -She took up a bundle that she had thrown upon the floor upon her -entrance, and took from it a full suit of boy's clothes. - -Throwing off her own, she clothed herself in the others, and again -looked calmly into the mirror when the task was completed. - -The alteration was complete, absolute. - -With the same mechanical movements she opened the drawer to the old -secretary, and took from it the picture that Godfrey Cuyler had told -her was the face of Lena Mauprat, but she thrust it into the pocket of -her coat without a glance at it. - -There were one or two souvenirs of "Dad" that she put into her pocket, -then turned to take a last view of the room in which she had been -comparatively happy. - -A sob arose in her throat as she pictured the face of her -grandfather--that dear old face that she was never again to see until -she met him in the presence of God! - -With an unvoiced prayer in her heart, she kneeled and kissed the chair -in which he had died, then slowly she arose and approached the door. - -One last glance, a bursting sob, and Leonie Cuyler passed from the room -forever! - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -"Neil?" - -"Yes, sir." - -Andrew Pryor rushed into his library with every appearance of haste and -excitement upon his kindly face, his breathing short, his hair seeming -to have taken an upward turn. - -"I want you to go down on 'Change for me. Hurry, boy! There is not -a single moment to lose. I want you to get there before the market -closes, and tell Caswell for me, to buy two thousand Western Union, -Buyer 30, and sell five thousand Northwest preferred, Seller 60. I have -just had a 'pointer' by which I shall make a pile if the market goes as -I have been informed. You have just three-quarters to make it. If you -get there---- Ah, that is right. That boy is invaluable." - -The sentence was finished to himself, the break being caused by the -exit of the boy to whom he had been speaking. - -The white-haired old gentleman stood for some time with a smile upon -his lips, rubbing his hands together with an expression of profound -satisfaction. - -But gradually it faded. - -First came a look of deep thought, then one of fear, followed by an -expression so full of consternation that to a disinterested observer -it would have been laughable. - -"By Jove!" he exclaimed aloud, "I am positive that I told that boy to -buy Western Union and sell Northwest preferred! If he gives that order -as I gave it to him, it will ruin me! What in Heaven's name could ever -have made me such a colossal fool! It is impossible to do anything -now! He has been gone fully fifteen minutes, and--what in the name of -common sense am I to do? Nothing, I suppose. Five thousand Chicago and -Northwestern preferred short! Caswell will think I have gone mad! Here! -Sarah! Sarah! Tell William to bring the cart to the door, quick! There -is not a moment to lose! Don't stand staring at me in that insane way, -but hurry! There is not a confounded one of them on this place that -is worth the salt in their bread but that boy whom I never saw until -a week ago. Where the devil is my coat? I never can find it without -that boy. Lord! if Caswell has bought that---- Oh, here it is at last. -William, what in the name of Heaven are you doing here? Didn't Sarah -tell you to bring the cart to the door?" - -"I thought----" - -"Never mind what you thought, you infernal fool! What business had you -to think? It is too late now. I shall take the elevated." - -He banged the door after him as he spoke, and hurried down the street -to the nearest elevated station, rushed up the steps, and was forced to -wait something over five minutes for the train, during which time he -looked at his watch about twenty times. - -The day was decidedly cool, but in spite of that fact, the perspiration -rolled down his face like rain. - -"I won't get there until the Exchange closes," he muttered; "and with -my affairs in the state they are---- Well, I can't understand what ever -made me such an infernal----" - -The sentence was interrupted by the arrival of the train. - -Andrew Pryor rushed in pell-mell, took his seat, and imagined that -the train had never run with such exasperating slowness as upon that -occasion. - -It came to an end at last, however, and colliding with everything and -everybody where collision was possible, he rushed on. - -At the very entrance of the Stock Exchange he ran directly into the boy -whom he had sent upon the errand. - -"What in thunder did you tell Caswell?" cried the old man, excitedly. -"Quick!" - -The expression of the boy's face was laughable, but partaking of his -excitement, he answered, breathlessly: - -"I hope I have not done wrong, sir; but going down in the train I -remembered that Northwest preferred had been jumping at an astonishing -rate the last few days, and I thought you must have gotten the order -mixed." - -"And you reversed it?" - -"I did. Selling Western Union. Seller 60, and----" - -Andrew Pryor's month opened as if to say something, but it closed -with a sudden snap, and his hand came down on the boy's shoulder with -positive affection. - -"My boy," he exclaimed, with amusing emphasis, "you have saved me -more than you can imagine. The people in this town would have had me -adjudged a lunatic without a trial if you had delivered that order as -I directed you. Such brains as yours shall not go unrecognized. The -fellows have been laughing at me because of your youth and girlishness, -but they can laugh and be hanged! You are my private secretary from -this day at a salary of one hundred and twenty-five dollars per month. -You are the smartest boy of your age in New York to-day." - -"I am afraid you overestimate what I have done, sir. You see, I knew -the market fluctuations and----" - -"Will you let me be the judge of that? I tell you there is not another -boy in the city that would have done it. Well, it is something in your -pocket. You have made a friend, and I am glad of it. You deserve it!" - -The handsome eyes of the youth were downcast. He did not reply, but -somehow Andrew Pryor seemed to understand that the silence was not the -result of ingratitude. - -He preferred it, upon the whole, to a flow of words, and attributed it -to feeling upon the part of the boy. - -Together they went home, and at the door inside the hall Andrew Pryor -paused again, laying his hand upon the shoulder of the young man. - -"I shall expect you to dine with the family to-night," he said. "It is -the respect your new position demands!" - -A brilliant, embarrassed red overspread the handsome face, which the -patron was not slow to observe. - -"What is it?" he demanded. "Remember perfect frankness is always best." - -The boy smiled. - -"It seems such an absurd thing, sir," he answered, "and yet I must ask -you to excuse me, because I do not possess a dress suit!" - -"Then you will come without one until it is purchased. A dress suit -does not make the gentleman. If you have not the money that is -required, do not hesitate to call upon me. There must be none of that -false pride about you that is so despicable in most young men. I have -taken a great liking to you, and I am determined to see you succeed in -the world. There are very few of us who would have occupied our present -positions had there not been a helping hand extended to us. Mine will -be the hand to assist you up the ladder to social prominence and -wealth. We dine at 6:30. I shall expect you." - -Neil Lowell bowed respectfully, but quietly, and passing up the stairs, -went to his own room. - -Andrew Pryor looked after him. - -"That is the most extraordinary boy that I ever knew!" he muttered. -"Some day I must get him to tell me the story of his life. I would be -willing to stake my head that his parents were somebody!" - -And in his own room, a comfortable nest, not elegant, but cozy and -homelike, Neil Lowell threw aside his hat and coat, and seating himself -in front of the fire, bowed his chin upon his breast and was lost in -reflection. - -"What a strange world it is!" he muttered. "Only a little while ago, -and as a girl, as poor, unfortunate Leonie Cuyler, my heart seemed -breaking. I was friendless, and helpless, made desperate by my struggle -with life. Driven to bay, I gave myself the appearance of a boy. For a -time I feared the tracing of detectives. I lived in constant terror, -hiding by day, living in dread at night, subsisting upon the few -crumbs that came in my way, or starving, as occasion demanded, until -I could bear it no longer! I threw aside fear, and determined that -whatever the consequences might be, I would brave it out. I obtained -some light work; I went from that to my old work of typewriting, but -the girls monopolized that, and I was a--boy. However, I got enough -money together to buy a decent suit of clothes, accidentally performed -a slight service for Andrew Pryor, was taken into his employ to do -anything that came my way that was not menial, though I don't know that -I should have refused that had it come my way, and now I am his private -secretary. It is a curious world! I wonder what in Heaven's name is in -store for me? They must all discover sooner or later that I am not what -I appear, but how can I help it? It is useless to repine now! There is -no going back. It is forward or die, and I am not ready for that yet. -Thank God for one thing. It will enable me to repay the debt that I owe -to Lynde Pyne! Suppose that he knew the truth? Suppose that he knew -that but yesterday he had stood beside me, Leonie Cuyler? Suppose---- -But the time for supposing anything is over. I am Neil Lowell now, and -Neil Lowell I shall remain to the end of the chapter. I even intend to -try to forget that I am not the boy that I appear. There is no reason -why I should not remain Neil Lowell. I have as much right to that name -as any other. As a boy, life promises something to me, as a girl, it -holds nothing but disgrace and shame. Let me see! If I am to appear at -that dinner-table I must be presentable. I shall have just time to go -down-town and make some necessary purchases before the dinner hour. -Ha! ha! It does seem too absurd to think of Leonie Cuyler in the bosom -of the family of Andrew Pryor as a fine young man, and his private -secretary. I suppose I shall be making love to one of the girls next." - -The expression of the beautiful face was nearer to amusement than any -that had shadowed it since that death on the top floor of the tenement, -that Leonie Cuyler had called her home. - -The black derby was pulled down to carefully conceal the broad brow, -and with a very boyish swing to his gait, Neil Lowell passed out of the -house again. - -The few necessary purchases were made, the suit that Andrew Pryor -required at his dinner-table was ordered, and Neil Lowell returned home. - -He had scarcely completed his preparations when the chimes announced -dinner. - -With a heart that thrilled with embarrassment, but well concealed by -the most composed exterior, he descended to the dinner-room. - -Andrew Pryor received him. - -"My dear," he said to his wife, "you have known this young man as a -boy to whom I have taken a great liking, but for a service rendered me -to-day that shows his capability to fill such a position with credit to -himself, I have made him my private secretary. I wish him in future to -be received as a member of my family. Gwen, my dear, come here. Miss -Pryor, allow me to present Mr. Lowell!" - -The formal introduction was made to his eldest daughter, who bowed -courteously, then followed by an introduction to the others, two in -number. - -Gravely, and with the polish of a courtier, Neil Lowell responded to -the introduction, filling Andrew Pryor with more surprise than ever. - -"Where in thunder did the boy get his polish?" he kept asking himself -all through dinner, but the end came without his having found a reply. - -"He is a charming boy!" Alice told her sister, Gwendolyn, when they -were alone in their own room. - -And Gwendolyn, contrary to her custom, did not negative the assertion. - -It was altogether a triumph for Neil Lowell, and the tears that -moistened his pillow that night were girlish, but they were not tears -of sadness entirely. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -"Lowell!" - -"Yes, sir!" - -"What are you doing?" - -"Answering that batch of letters that came by the morning delivery." - -"Well, stop! I'm tired of it. It seems to me that you do nothing -eternally but work from morning until night!" - -The sweet face was lifted, all dimpled with smiles. - -"Was not that what you engaged me for?" - -"Not exclusively. I don't want any fellow to make himself a slave for -me. Are you going to the Dorlans to-night?" - -"No, sir." - -"Why?"--testily. - -"Well, I don't know any one, sir, and it did not seem to me that I -should be missed. It was very kind of Mr. Dorlan to ask me, but I did -not think that he expected me to accept. He only did it because he -thought you would like it." - -"Then you acknowledge that you have not as much consideration for my -feelings as he has." - -"I don't see how you make that, sir." - -"He, you say, invited you because I wanted him to, and you won't go, -knowing that I am very anxious that you should!" - -"I did not know that, sir!" - -"Well, you know it now. Are you going?" - -"Not if you will excuse me." - -"I will not press you if you wish that I should not. By the way, -Lowell, won't you have a cigar?" - -The silver case was lifted and held upward for the young man to select -one to his own liking. Half a dozen dimples played about his pretty -mouth as Neil Lowell suppressed an outright laugh. - -"I never smoke, thank you, sir," he answered. - -"What? Oh, hang it, I always forget you are only a boy. You have so few -of the frivolities of youth that I can never seem to remember that you -are not an old man. I have no prejudice against smoking, though, for -old or young, if not carried to excess. You must learn. It is a great -comfort, and----" - -Andrew Pryor paused as the door of his study was thrown open without -permission, and Alice, his youngest daughter, entered. - -"Papa," she cried enthusiastically, "I have just had a letter from -Edith. It has been delayed somehow upon the road, and I find by -comparing the dates that she will be here to-night. Isn't that just -perfectly lovely? She said it would be impossible for her to tell -exactly by what train she would arrive, but that we need not trouble to -meet her, as her cousin would be with her, and he could bring her to -the house at once, but that she would arrive in time for dinner! I am -so pleased!" - -She threw her arms around the old gentleman's neck, and proceeded to -half suffocate him in her demonstrations of joy. - -"Gwen is as happy as I am," she continued, her black eyes dancing with -delight. "I have already planned a thousand different things for her -entertainment. The dinner to-night must be just lovely. Don't you think -I had better invite a few people, impromptu, don't you know?" - -"I dare say that would be very pleasant, but I am going to Dorlan's to -a stag dinner," returned Pryor sheepishly, as though knowing that his -absence from home would be regarded very much as a crime. - -"Oh, papa!" - -The pretty face fell, the corners of the little mouth were drawn -downward, and the tiny hand fell from his shoulder. - -"Now then--now then!" cried Pryor, rising and patting her cheeks -lightly. "You need not look as though I had locked you up in the -closet. This dinner has been arranged for a week, and I could not -possibly decline. But that need not hinder your arrangements at all, -for Lowell will be here, and he can act in my place. I shall perhaps be -able to make my own excuses before I leave, and just authorize him to -do the honors. I don't think I would ask any one but Edith's cousin, -then you can make a little family dinner of the first one." - -"And are you not going to the stag dinner, Mr. Lowell?" asked Miss -Pryor, lifting her sweet eyes to his face, glowing with good humor -again. - -"No." - -"That is just lovely of you. I should kiss you if I dared." - -"I shall not resist in the least," laughed Neil. - -"Well, some other time! Then we shall have the family dinner to-night. -Oh, I shall be so glad to see Edith! I do wonder what her cousin is -like? I hope he will be pleasant and companionable for you, Mr. Lowell." - -"That is very kind of you, Miss Alice, but I much prefer the society of -the ladies." - -"Right again, Lowell! Gad! you are the most sensible boy I ever saw!" -exclaimed Mr. Pryor admiringly. - -"Then we may count upon you for dinner to-night, Mr. Lowell?" -interrupted Alice. - -"I am always at your service, Miss Alice." - -"That is so good of you. But there is one warning that I have to give -you. Don't fall in love with Edith. She is already engaged, but the -greatest little flirt in existence." - -"I am not susceptible, Miss Alice. If I had been----" - -A look completed the sentence, a look that brought the quick color to -the pretty, round cheeks, which Neil Lowell was not slow to see. - -The girl kissed her father and hurried from the room. The old man -glanced from Lowell to the closed door, and back again, in much -surprise. - -"Neil," he said, after a long, thoughtful pause, "that is a subject -upon which jests are not admissible." - -"I understand you, sir, and I beg that you will feel no anxiety -whatever upon that point. I am too young to fear." - -"No, you are not. Your face is unusually handsome, and---- Remember, -boy, I do not speak for my daughter's sake alone, but yours as well." - -"I made up my mind, Mr. Pryor, some time ago, and I shall keep to my -resolution, that I shall never marry. I beg that you will feel no -concern for either me or--for her. Will you excuse me? We neither of -us have much time in which to dress for dinner." - -Andrew Pryor nodded a consent, and with infinite amusement in his -heart, and amusement that was to be piteously short-lived, Neil Lowell -sought his room to dress for that dinner that was to linger long in his -memory. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -Neil Lowell had never looked better in his boy's attire than when he -had completed his toilet for dinner that evening, and stood before the -glass taking a last survey of himself, very much after the manner of a -girl. Then he opened the door and went down-stairs. - -As he entered the drawing-room, his first impression was that it was -empty, but as he advanced into the room, he saw the form of a man -leaning over a table upon which some rare etchings were carelessly -tossed. - -"It is 'Edith's cousin,' I suppose," he muttered with a smile. - -The slight noise of the entrance attracted the stranger's attention, -and he lifted his head. - -Neil started; an hysterical cry rose to his lips, but before the guest -had advanced he had recovered his perfect self-possession. - -"You are Miss Edith's 'cousin,' I think," he said with a smile, -advancing and extending his hand. "I don't suppose that Miss Alice -intended us to meet in this fashion or she would have told me your -name. I am Neil Lowell." - -The gentleman paused, looking down upon the slight figure with a -puzzled expression. - -He took the extended hand in his as though half unconscious that he had -done so, then pulling himself together, he said slowly: - -"I am Lynde Pyne. I have heard your name mentioned by my cousin as the -private secretary of Mr. Pryor, of whom Miss Alice has made frequent -mention in her letters. You must really excuse me, but your face is so -strangely familiar to me, that I cannot recover from the surprise of -it." - -"Now that you speak of it, I remember seeing you on 'Change the other -day. The day that Lake Shore took its great boom. Do you not recall it?" - -"No!" shaking his head slowly, "it was not there. I did not see you -there, but----" - -The sentence was interrupted by the entrance of the girls. -Introductions followed, and were barely completed, when the butler's -announcement of dinner was made. - -With a heart beating almost to suffocation, Lowell offered his arm to -Miss Edith Pyne, and conducted her to the dining-room, seating her upon -his right, while he occupied the host's position. - -It placed him where every eye rested full upon him, and Alice cried -gleefully: - -"Is it not extraordinary? Look! Did you ever see so great a resemblance -as that between Mr. Lowell and Edith?" - -There was no need to call attention to it, for every one in the room -had observed it before, but Lowell's face was crimson. - -"You compliment me too highly, Miss Alice," he stammered. "No doubt -that is where Mr. Pyne saw a resemblance in me to some one, if it is -true." - -But Pyne shook his head. - -"No," he said; "I must have seen you, yourself! I can't----" - -The sentence was dreamily discontinued, and the girls began to chatter -upon other subjects, while Lowell and Pyne maintained an uncomfortable -silence. - -"It is so delicious to be here!" Edith cried joyfully, "only it will -be for such a short time. Mamma insists that I shall spend part of the -visit with Evelyn Chandler. I ought to be pleased, I suppose, but I -can't. I should not say it before Lynde, but I don't half like her." - -If his life had depended upon it, Lowell could not have prevented -himself from raising his eyes to those dark, compelling ones before -him. They were fixed curiously upon his face. A slow color surged into -the pink cheeks and the eyes of the boy were lowered. - -An excitement that he could not control leaped into Lynde's eyes. - -"Why should you not say that before Mr. Pyne?" questioned Miss Pryor. -"If rumor is correct his engagement with Miss Chandler is at an end." - -Lowell held his breath, waiting for the answer. - -Not a movement was lost upon Pyne. - -"Then rumor does not speak correctly!" snapped Miss Pyne. "I wish to -Heaven it did. The engagement was broken by some kind of row between -Mr. Chandler and Lynde at the time those robberies were committed, but -Evelyn would not have it. She made her father straighten matters out, -and Lynde was hooked again, and will be landed in January. You see, the -fish is about tired out, and the fisher-woman will soon be triumphant." - -Lowell felt himself growing ghastly. - -A cold perspiration was growing about his mouth; but knowing that -Pyne's eyes were fixed upon him, he forced a smile to his lips, and -glanced in Pyne's direction. - -"Then I presume we are to congratulate you?" he said, in the form of an -interrogation. - -The trembling of the voice was not lost upon Lynde, who never removed -his eyes from the boyish face. - -"Yes," he answered slowly, "you may congratulate me if you wish." - -"I should murder him if he did!" ejaculated Miss Pyne. "You know that I -don't like Evelyn, and she knows it, though mamma insists upon it that -I shall be the essence of glucose in her presence. Bah! what you want -to marry her for is more than I can see. You are not in love with her, -and you know it." - -"Young ladies," interrupted Mrs. Pryor, with a good-natured smile, -"don't you think this conversation had better be discontinued? It is -the first time I ever heard of discussing a gentleman's _fiancee_ so -uncomplimentarily in his presence." - -"Pooh! We are all like brothers and sisters here!" exclaimed Miss Pyne. -"It is only in the family, you know. Mr. Lowell don't count. Did you -ever see Miss Evelyn Chandler, Mr. Lowell?" - -For a moment Lowell hesitated, then the answer came: - -"Yes." - -"Do you admire her?" - -"If you mean do I think she is beautiful, yes." - -"But do you think she is good? Do you think she is what she appears?" - -"You must excuse me, Miss Pyne. I have not your right to discuss the -lady in question." - -Mrs. Pryor, not approving the conversation, arose from the table, -giving the signal to the ladies. - -Lowell arose, and opened the door for them to pass through, then he -resumed his seat. - -He was the host, in the absence of Mr. Pryor, and he knew that he must -remain at the table until his guest was ready to leave it. - -During the time that the butler was arranging the cigars and wine upon -the table, after the departure of the ladies, he felt those glowing -eyes fixed upon his face. - -The wine was poured, and the butler handed the cigars. - -As they were passed to Neil, he glanced up, and saw those curious, -questioning eyes still fixed upon him. He selected a cigar with -greatest nonchalance; the lighted candles were placed for their use, -and the butler retired. - -As though it were an occurrence of everyday life, Neil cut the end from -his cigar, stuck it in his mouth, and was about to apply it to the -flame, when Pyne put out his hand and laid it upon that of the boy. - -"Don't do that!" he said gently. - -Lowell did not need to affect the surprise that came to his eyes. - -"Why?" he demanded. - -"Because it will make you sick!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean that you have never smoked a cigar in your life, and that it -will nauseate you." - -For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence, then Neil laughed -shortly. - -"You are correct," he said, his face flushing. "I never did! Mr. Pryor -was taking me to task about it to-day, and I determined to learn. I did -not dream that I should handle it so awkwardly. Will you excuse me, -then, if I take a cigarette instead?" - -"Certainly; but I don't think I feel inclined to smoke, if you will -excuse me altogether. The chatter of those girls has upset me. It has -brought back memories which I thought I had conquered. Neil Lowell, -there is a question that I should like to ask you. What is it that -you know of Miss Evelyn Chandler? And what relation are you to Leonie -Cuyler?" - -The man's face was lighted with a brilliant crimson. His eyes glittered -with excitement. - -He arose from his chair and stood over the boy, one hand resting upon -the table, the other upon the back of Lowell's chair. - -The boy lifted his eyes to the thrilling face, and very slowly arose to -his feet. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -For a full minute Neil Lowell and Lynde Pyne stood there facing each -other, each seeming to measure the other's strength, not physically, -but mentally. - -Neil was striving to decide what course it would be safest for him to -pursue; then, seeming to have arrived at a definite conclusion, he -stepped back a pace, his eyes growing colder. - -"What I know of Miss Evelyn Chandler," he said, frigidly, "is my own -concern, and there is no reason why I should make it known to you or to -any one else, unless it is my desire so to do. I have made no charges -either for or against her, and I deny your right to question me upon -that or any other subject." - -Pyne threw out his hand with a deprecatory gesture. - -"I did not ask my question in the spirit that you seem to ascribe to -me," he replied, without anger; "the expression of your face, when -these family affairs were spoken of, was such as to give birth to -suspicion. I do not demand that you answer me; I simply request it." - -Neil turned aside, lowering his eyes. - -"There is nothing that I can tell you concerning Miss Chandler." - -"Then answer my second question. What are you to Leonie Cuyler?" - -Slowly the boy lifted his eyes, fastening them on the face of the man -before him, determined that no weakness, however great, should make him -betray the identity that it was so necessary for him to conceal. - -"I had a cousin by that name," he said, slowly. "I never saw her but -once." - -He had told the truth, and he had told it with such perfect frankness, -such entire candor, that Pyne was staggered. - -"Then if you have seen her once, you will excuse me for my inquiry into -your affairs, knowing how much you are like her." - -"There is little in resemblances. You heard Miss Pryor speak to-night -of my resemblance to Miss Pyne, your cousin." - -"That is strong, I grant you, but weak by comparison with the other -likeness. In asking your pardon I must tell you that my interest in -Miss Cuyler was so strong at one time that it has shadowed all my life. -I cannot speak further without betraying a secret that is not all -mine. But for her sake, because you were her cousin, I offer you my -friendship, if you will have it. I am not rich, but whatever I can do -for you you may be sure that I will. You promise?" - -The eyes of the boy were averted to conceal the tears that would rise -in them. - -"I will remember!" he answered, in a voice so choked from emotion that -vision was not necessary to know the nearness of tears. - -"Will you give me your hand that I may know you have forgiven me for my -presumption?" - -Without a word the little hand was extended, and as that of the man -closed over it, a quick, low cry escaped his lips. - -"You cannot deceive me longer!" he cried, hoarsely. "I knew that you -were Leonie in the beginning, but I wanted to have some proof before -making my assertion. Oh, Leonie, child, child! why did you think it -necessary to conceal your identity from me? Did you not know that I -would have given my life, my soul, if needs were, to have saved you?" - -Startled almost beyond self-control, Leonie listened to the words. - -She knew that the ring she wore had betrayed her, but she could think -of no way in which it was possible to cover the fact that he had -discovered. - -Very gently Lynde closed the door, then turning, took her hand and drew -her down upon a couch beside him. - -"Leonie," he said, "could you not have trusted me?" - -"I did trust you," she cried desperately, "and you are to marry Evelyn -Chandler!" - -She had not meant to say that, but somehow the words had escaped her -without her will. She would have recalled them if she could, but now it -was too late. She lifted her eyes helplessly to his face. - -"You trusted me by leaving me at the time that I needed you most. -You trusted me by going away and leaving me in ignorance as to your -whereabouts. You might have known that at any price I would save you, -and I have. It is not necessary that you should longer disguise your -sex from the world. The charge that Leonard Chandler made against you -has been withdrawn." - -Leonie started up excitedly. - -"Withdrawn!" she gasped. "How did he happen to do that?" - -"Through the persuasion of his daughter." - -For a moment she was silent, then she sprung up, standing before him, -her lovely face quivering with emotion. - -"Then that is the secret of your renewed engagement with Evelyn -Chandler. Tell me the truth, Lynde. Is it not so?" - -His eyes were downcast for a moment, then raised bravely. - -"Yes," he answered. "You must not ask me anything further, because -honor forbids that I should answer you. But you are free as air." - -"I am free, but you!" she cried, her voice scarcely more than an -agonized whisper--"you are worse than a prisoner! You do not love her, -and, not loving her, you will marry her for my sake. Listen to me, -Lynde. You must not do it--you must not, if I go to the gallows instead -of to the penitentiary! You have taught me a lesson in self-sacrifice. -I shall not tell you now the secret that has moved my life, that has -robbed it of every hope, of every joy, because my unsupported testimony -would count for little; but I will find a way to prove my words; and I -will save you from the woman whom you would make your wife!" - -"I beg that you will not do that, Leonie. There is nothing now that -could relieve me of the sacred promise that I have taken upon myself, -and anything that you might say would but be a useless sacrifice upon -your part, and would but increase my burden. Promise me that you will -do nothing!" - -"I will promise to say nothing to any one until you know all the truth, -and that you shall be the judge yourself. Will you be content with -that?" - -"I will!" - -"And there is a promise that I have to demand of you in return." - -"I am ready to make it!" - -"Then say nothing of what you have discovered to-day regarding my -sex to any one! I have reasons for wishing to preserve myself from -recognition, and there is little hope for me unless I preserve the -costume that I have assumed. If I am forced to leave here, as I should -be were it known that I am not a boy, Heaven knows into what a position -I might be thrown." - -"I promise. You will not refuse to allow me to see you sometimes? You -will not refuse to grant me----" - -"It is better not!" she interrupted, sorrowfully. "There is nothing -that can ever lift the barrier that lies between you and me, Mr. Pyne. -That is as irrevocable as death itself. I am not saving you from Evelyn -Chandler to secure you for myself. The reason that makes it almost a -crime that she should be your wife, extends to me, and though I have -brought you sorrow, I will never bring you disgrace. When you are here -I shall find a pretext for remaining out of your presence, for it is -much better that we should not meet! You believe that, do you not?" - -"I beg that you will----" - -"I am deaf to your words. You know where to find me; you know where -I shall remain, unless the object that I have in view requires that I -shall go elsewhere; but unless necessity demands it, I beg that you -will not seek me. I will come to you when I have discovered the proofs -that are necessary." - -She left the room as she ceased speaking without a backward glance, -turning a deaf ear to his pleading tones, and walked unsteadily up the -stairs to her own room. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -"There's a lady in the blue morning-room to see you, Miss Chandler!" - -Evelyn Chandler turned to her maid with anything but an amiable -expression of countenance. - -"Her card?" she exclaimed with annoyance. - -"She gave me none. She wished me to say that her call was purely a -matter of business, that she would not detain you longer than necessity -required, and begged that you would not decline to see her." - -Something in the message aroused Miss Chandler's curiosity. - -She hesitated a moment; then with a gesture of deprecation, said: - -"Show her up here! I don't feel inclined to walk down-stairs." - -Concealing the disgust she felt at the well-known indolence of her -mistress, the maid left the room, but returned a little later, followed -by a woman clothed in somber black. - -A heavy veil was drawn across her face, a covering which she took the -precaution not to remove until the maid had retired and closed the door. - -"My maid tells me your call is upon business," said Miss Chandler, -curtly. "I have but a few moments to spare, therefore, you will excuse -me if I ask you to be brief." - -Without a word the veil was lifted, revealing the lovely features of -Leonie Cuyler. - -Miss Chandler was on the point of crying out, but by a mighty effort -restrained the inclination. - -She drew herself up coldly, a thousand lightning flashes darting from -her eyes. - -"To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?" she asked icily. - -"It is to tell you that I have come," returned Leonie, quietly taking a -chair that had not been offered her. "Will you excuse me if I consume -a little of your valuable time in telling you how I risked my freedom -and my honor only a short time ago to save you from the consequences of -your own folly. Will you----" - -"No, I will not!" interrupted Miss Chandler sternly. "I am quite -convinced that you have not come here without a purpose, therefore I -request that you state it as speedily as possible, and without all -this circumlocution. If you wish to impress me with the idea that I am -under an obligation to you, I may as well assure you in the beginning -that I do not recognize the fact; and even if I did, I am not one to be -influenced by such considerations." - -"Very well," said Leonie, assuming something of Miss Chandler's own -manner. "If you are determined to have this war and not peace, I am -ready for you. - -"There was one," she continued, "to whom I owe more than I could ever -repay were I granted a thousand years of life. No brother could have -shown me greater tenderness, greater consideration, greater mercy." - -"How touching!" murmured Miss Chandler, stifling a yawn. - -"I refer," Leonie went on, as though the interruption had not been -made, "to Mr. Lynde Pyne." - -"I supposed as much. Lynde was always something of a Don Quixote. It -is pleasant to hear of his generosity, but really if you don't hurry I -shall have to leave you. I should not like, for your own sake, to have -my father find you here." - -"I have come to tell you, Miss Chandler, that the engagement that -exists between you and Lynde Pyne must be broken!" - -Miss Chandler shrugged her shapely shoulders carelessly. - -"Have you come here to threaten me?" she asked coldly. "If you have -you will find that you have attacked the wrong person. I think I have -already demonstrated to you the fact that I am not in the least a -coward." - -She arose as she finished her sentence, and Leonie followed her example. - -"Promise me," she said, "and keep your word, that you will break -this engagement, and I swear to you, that so far as I am concerned, -the secret of your birth and the knowledge of who was the thief in -Leonard Chandler's household, shall be eternally preserved. Refuse, and -whatever it may cost me, the entire matter shall be made public in time -to save Lynde Pyne from the marriage that would not alone wreck his -life, but his soul as well." - -"I make no compact with you of any kind!" said Evelyn, harshly. "If -you make this charge, without bringing ample proof to back up your -assertions, I warn you that my father, Leonard Chandler, shall use -the force of his entire fortune against you. His anger against you is -already at fever heat, and I have but to speak the word that will make -him your most deadly foe. As far as my love for Mr. Pyne is concerned, -that is none of your business. Whether I love him or not, I intend to -marry him, for reasons that do not in the least concern you. Now go, or -the servants shall have instructions to put you out!" - -There was not the slightest weakness in her demeanor, and Leonie knew -it. - -She had hoped to frighten her sister into measures, but she saw there -was about as much possibility of that, as there was in frightening a -desperado into giving himself into the hands of the authorities. - -With little outward evidence of the disappointment she really felt, -Leonie again wrapped the veil about her head and left the room. - -For some time Evelyn Chandler stood there, seeming to be thinking -deeply. - -"She means every word that she has said," she muttered, below her -breath. "She was a typewriter in a lawyer's office long enough to have -absorbed some of their knowledge, and will, therefore, know exactly how -to go to work. I cannot sit still and let her succeed, as undoubtedly -she will if I do not immediately take measures of precaution; but what -shall they be? I cannot consult my adopted father. Therefore, there is -but one course left--I must consult my own father. Bah!" - -The sentence was concluded with a shiver of repulsion, but it vanished -almost before it had existed. - -She sat down and took her chin in her hands, a favorite position when -in deep thought. - -"It is the only way!" she cried, at last. "Let me see! I have an -engagement with my dressmaker at this hour, but when that is ended, we -shall see what Ben Mauprat can suggest. A man who has been a scoundrel -all his life certainly ought to be able to thwart a single-handed girl." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -"Mr. Pryor, will you require my services this afternoon?" - -The speaker was Neil Lowell, who stood in the presence of his employer, -hat in hand. - -The old gentleman glanced up in surprise. - -"No! That is the first time you have ever asked that. Are you going -out?" - -"With your permission." - -"Hang it, boy, a servant has some time off, and you never take any. It -would really do me good to have you go out more. You never do unless I -send you. Go, and come back when you get ready." - -"Thank you!" - -Lowell did not wait for further words, but left the room, and instead -of going directly to the street, as his dress would have indicated that -he intended, he went to his room again. - -He locked the door and hurriedly disrobed. Ten minutes later, a -red-brown wig was drawn over his cropped head, and a suit that -indicated shabby gentility had taken its place. An old and much-worn -hat was placed upon his head, completing a most excellent disguise. - -"If Mr. Pryor, or any one in the house discovers me, I shall tell him -quietly that I am engaged upon a piece of detective work, and he will -be perfectly satisfied and ask no further questions, bless his dear -old heart; but I must prevent detection if I can," muttered the boy to -himself as he left the room, and, taking the servants' stairway, went -down and very quietly let himself into the street. - -He took the elevated train and rode down-town, leaving it at the -Bleecker Street Station, then walked quickly across town. - -The place that he entered was one that would have made a man's heart -stand still, much less that of a person built upon his small scale, and -for a single moment he hesitated, but the hesitation was scarcely long -enough to be called one. - -It was a low saloon, and one in the "ring" could easily have recognized -more than one member of the Whyo gang in that motley assemblage. - -Blurred eyes were lifted questioningly, and the boy was "taken in" from -head to foot. - -Disregarding all this, and affecting a boldness he was far from -feeling, he advanced to the man behind the bar and said, in a low tone: - -"Say, pard, I've been told that you kin tell a feller where to find Ben -Mauprat. Ef yer kin, yer'll do a good day's work fur Ben!" - -"Say, Ike!" the barkeeper called to a man across the room, "this here -kid wants to know where Ben Mauprat lives. Kin you tell him?" - -"Cert! he lives on Great Jones Street--Number ----. He is sweller than -we are. Shouldn't wonder but what he'd be one of the four hundred -before the month's up." - -The boy did not wait to hear the conclusion of the speech, but, -muttering some words of thanks that "Ike" did not condescend to notice, -he left the saloon. - -He walked rapidly in the direction of Great Jones Street. - -The number that had been indicated was not a desirable-looking -residence, but no doubt to the other men of his class, Ben Mauprat's -home was eminently respectable, if not elegant. - -At least it required a pull at the bell to effect an entrance. - -A slatternly woman answered the summons. - -"Ben in?" questioned the boy. - -"What do you want of him?" - -"I want to see him. What do you suppose?" - -"Well, he is asleep." - -"Wake him up; my business can't wait!" - -The boy's manner was an excellent imitation of the tough, and, half -afraid to refuse, the woman reluctantly pulled open the door and -allowed him to enter. - -"He's in there," she said, indicating a room. "You can wake him -yourself, for his temper ain't none too good at the best of times." - -She went back to her work, and noiselessly Neil Lowell entered the room -that she had pointed out to him. - -There, upon an old hair-cloth lounge, lay the man whom he heard talking -to Evelyn Chandler on that memorable night. - -Ben Mauprat did not move. - -The same heavy snores that had greeted Neil upon his entrance -continued, perhaps a trifle louder, and feeling that he was secure from -interruption from the woman who had admitted him, Neil began a hasty -survey of the premises. - -There was not much to see. - -A broken chair, a table, with pieces of wood propping up one leg, an -old secretary, with one door wrenched off, a dilapidated inkstand, and -that seemed to be about all. - -Lightly Neil stepped to the secretary and began looking over its -contents. - -The first thing that met his eyes was a dainty note that even the grimy -hands of Ben Mauprat could not rob of its beauty. - -Without the slightest hesitation he opened it. There was no beginning. -It simply read: - - "Nothing has been heard of the girl yet. We must find her at all - hazards, and make sure that her mouth is securely closed, for upon - that all depends. The engagement has been resumed, so that your - interests are safe as far as Luis Kingsley is concerned. You seem - to forget how much you owe me on that score, for the moment I am - the wife of L. P. you can bring forward the proof that you have - discovered, and you may be sure that you will get your part of the - money. Trust me for that. If L. P. should hear anything of this, I - mean so far as you are concerned, my chances with him would be dough. - I send the money that you requested. - - "E. C." - -It did not require the initials to tell Neil who the writer was. - -He remembered to have heard the name of Luis Kingsley before, but -it was impossible for him to remember in exactly what connection; -therefore, he pocketed the letter, and finding nothing further, he -turned to Mauprat. - -He shook him roughly by the shoulder. - -"Say, are you dead, or what's the matter with you?" he demanded. "Won't -you ever wake up?" - -Ben raised his bleared eyes, and lifted himself upon his elbow. - -"Who in thunder are you?" he inquired sleepily. - -"I'm Bob Wells," answered Lowell coolly. - -"Well, who's Bob Wells? I never saw you before." - -"But that is no reason why you'll never want to see me again. Say, do -you want to find that girl that played detective in the house where the -Chandlers live?" - -That was quite enough to arouse Ben Mauprat on the instant. - -"What do you know of her?" he asked, rising and looking as straight as -his half-drunken eyes would allow into the boy's face. - -"Never mind what I know. I asked if you wanted to find her." - -"Yes, I do." - -"How bad?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Do you want to know bad enough to tell me what I want to know?" - -"Tell me first what it is." - -"I want to know what Luis Kingsley has done with the money that belongs -to Lynde Pyne." - -"Now what in thunder do you know about that?" - -"More than I am going to let you know. Say, look a-here, Ben! You don't -know me, but I do know you mighty blamed well. I'll just tell you who I -am, as a pointer. I was Lynde Pyne's office-boy, but he discharged me -fur---- Well, never mind what fur, I got the bounce, jist the same. A -feller can't starve, and I have got to do jist that or git some money. -Now I propose to help you if you will help me. Is it a go?" - -"Hold, one minute! I don't know what you are talking about." - -"'Tain't necessary fur you to know. All I say is that I know Luis -Kingsley has got some money that belongs to Lynde Pyne. I know you know -all about it. Do the square act on the divy about what you git out of -it, and I will tell you all I know about that Cuyler girl." - -Mauprat had opened his mouth to reply, when a violent pull at the bell -interrupted him. Breathlessly he waited, and with apparently careless -indifference, Neil waited also. - -At the expiration of a few seconds, the door was opened by the woman -who admitted Neil. - -"There is some one to see you in the other room," she said to Mauprat. - -By her manner, both her hearers knew as perfectly well who she meant -as though she had spoken the name, but before either had time to think -upon the subject at all, a heavily veiled woman pushed by her and -entered the room. - -"I wanted to see you, and have not time to wait!" she began; then -paused suddenly. - -Neil could feel the eyes through the veil fixed upon him piercingly. - -He stood the test well, but started slightly as the long-gloved finger -was pointed at him. - -"Who is that?" demanded Miss Chandler, in the stoniest voice that Neil -ever remembered to have heard. - -"He is Bob Wells, a former office-boy of Lynde Pyne's," answered -Mauprat, hurriedly. "I will----" - -"Your 'office boy of Lynde Pyne's,' is Leonie Cuyler!" cried the young -woman, excitedly. "You must be mad that you could not recognize her -through that disguise!" - -Mauprat uttered a low growl of rage. - -Without a word, but showing his teeth like a ferocious canine, he -sprung forward and caught Leonie by the throat. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -It required no great exertion of physical force to bring the boy to his -knees. - -The breath was almost choked from his body when Ben Mauprat released -his hold. - -"You cursed little imp of Satan!" he cried, his voice hoarse from rage. -"I'll teach you to come here trying to impose upon me. What in thunder -do you mean by it? Answer me quickly, or by Heaven! I'll strangle all -the life out of your little carcass. Do you hear?" - -"I will tell you!" exclaimed Miss Chandler, who had already removed the -veil that covered her face. "She has come here to play the spy. She has -threatened that unless I break the engagement with Lynde Pyne--which -she has somehow discovered to exist--that she will make known the -secret of my birth, and of my relationship to you. She is here for the -purpose of getting information from you upon that subject." - -"And perhaps I should have been fool enough to have said something that -might have given it to her, if you had not come in just when you did. -So you want to break the engagement that exists between Miss Chandler -and Lynde Pyne, do you?" - -Leonie did not answer. - -"Don't you hear me?" he screamed. - -She lifted her eyes coldly to his face. - -"Yes, I heard you," she answered, bravely. "But I did not think it -necessary to reply. Your daughter has told you, and I thought it -useless to corroborate her words. But since it seems that you require -it, I may as well tell you that I do not approve of her marriage to Mr. -Pyne, and it is my determination that if such a thing is in the range -of possibility, I will prevent it!" - -For a moment Ben Mauprat was stupid from astonishment. - -He stood with eyes and mouth both open, gazing at the girl as if her -audacity must be the result of lunacy. Then he sprung forward again. - -She was too quick for him, however, and before he could reach her, she -had put the rickety table between them. - -"Wait a minute!" cried Miss Chandler, interrupting the chase that she -saw was imminent "I have not time to wait for gymnastics of that kind. -Listen to me, and let us decide what is to be done. It is dangerous to -allow lunatics their liberty, and that is what I think Leonie Cuyler -must be. No one else would attempt the _role_ that she has essayed. -I think therefore, that for the benefit of the public she should be -restrained! I suggest that you keep her in confinement until after this -wedding shall have taken place, then--presupposing of course that her -physicians pronounce her cured--she can be released. What do you think -of my plan? It seems to me to be the only safe one!" - -"We should be doing a public benefit!" exclaimed Mauprat, his rage -turned to mirth. "I tell you, Evelyn, you are a chip of the old block. -It is a capital idea. I think while she remains here as my patient that -I may be able to compensate her for the trouble she took to sell me -some information." - -Leonie was aghast. - -"I wish you would listen to me!" she cried desperately. "I----" - -"It is useless," interrupted Miss Chandler. "I am quite convinced, and -nothing she could say would alter my idea, that the safest thing--the -only safe plan, in fact--is to confine her until after the marriage. -Then the harm that she can do will be little enough, for should she -make known all the facts that are in her possession, she would hurt no -one so much as the very man whom she has risked so much to save--Lynde -Pyne. I am sure that you agree with me." - -"I do, indeed." - -"That is all that I came to see you for to-day. I feel quite relieved -that I know my dear sister to be so well taken care of for the present. -She has given me a great deal of concern during the last few weeks, -but now my mind will be at rest. Be sure that she does not escape, -and should you want to see me about anything, send the message to the -old address. Do not risk coming to the house. Good-bye! Do not allow -anything to happen to your precious patient." - -With a mocking bow to Leonie she left the room, and Ben Mauprat turned -his entire attention to Leonie. - -He pointed to the door, and thinking that she saw her opportunity, -Leonie bowed courteously and walked in the direction he indicated. - -It led to the hall. - -She had scarcely entered it, than, with a quick bound, she reached the -front door. - -She would undoubtedly have made good her escape, but that an -unfortunate accident happened. - -Some one had hold of the knob of the door from the outside, and as she -pulled it from within, and some one pushed it from without, it came -open with a sudden force that caused her to lose her footing, and she -fell headlong. - -Mauprat was upon her before she could recover herself, had caught her -by the shoulder, and set her upon her feet. - -His face was ghastly with rage. - -"You infernal little fiend!" he panted, the oaths falling thick and -fast, "I'll give you now a taste of the punishment that will come from -that sort of thing if you try it in the future!" - -He raised a heavy walking-stick and brought it down again and again -upon the frail shoulders with terrible force. - -The woman and the miserable hunchback boy who had caused the accident, -stood shrinking back in the corner as far as possible, ghastly with -fear, until unable to stand it longer, the woman caught the man's arm -and held it in a grasp like iron. - -"Stop!" she cried hoarsely, "You don't know what you are doing! She is -not used to that sort of thing, and you will kill her!" - -Mauprat turned to the woman with a savage growl. - -He released his hold upon Leonie, who fell without a groan to the floor. - -"Take what your interference warrants!" he cried, bringing the stick -down with renewed force upon the body of the woman. - -She took it without a moan, the boy covering his miserable face with -his hands. - -Finding that he could cause no outcry of pain upon her part, Mauprat -turned sullenly to Leonie. - -"She has fainted," he said, kicking the inert body with his foot. -"Carry her up-stairs and put her in Dick's room. We'll see how she -succeeds with her next attempt at escape." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -"Thompson, see if Mr. Lowell has returned yet." - -The order was given by Mr. Pryor to the servant whom he had summoned by -ringing the bell in the drawing-room. - -The young people of the family, together with their guests, Miss Pyne -and Lynde, were there, and each one glanced in some surprise at the -speaker when the order was given. - -He had seemed preoccupied and worried during the entire evening, and -now as eleven o'clock came and still no signs of the missing secretary, -alarm took the place of anxiety. - -There was not a question asked until the return of the servant, but an -ominous silence was preserved. - -"Well?" inquired Mr. Pryor as he returned. - -"He is not in his room, sir, nor has he been seen by any of the -servants." - -"Has Mr. Lowell disappeared?" asked Miss Pryor, some concern expressed -in her tone. - -"Yes," answered her father. "It is a most singular thing. He has never -gone out before to remain longer than an hour. He knew that I should -want him about a matter of some importance to-night and yet he has not -come in. I don't understand it." - -Every eye was leveled in his direction and not toward Lynde Pyne, or -they might have observed his sudden pallor, and the expression of -absolute terror that had grown in his eyes. - -"Mr. Lowell is fully competent to take care of himself," laughed Mrs. -Pryor. "You will make a perfect baby of that boy, Andrew, and destroy -in him the very characteristics that you have so much admired. Eleven -o'clock is not late in New York." - -"It is for Lowell. He has no friends here; he is not accustomed to -going out; he did not mention that he should be gone for any length of -time, and furthermore, he knew that I should need him very particularly -to-night. The whole thing in a nutshell is, that it is not like Lowell, -and I am convinced that something has happened. If he is not here -within half an hour I shall be sure of it." - -To the surprise of all, Lynde Pyne arose. His face was deadly white, -his lips quivering with dumb anxiety. - -"You are quite right, Mr. Pryor!" he exclaimed. "Something must have -occurred out of the ordinary to keep him out so late. Have you any idea -where he was going?" - -"No. Had he been gone longer I should say notify the police; but -they would take little interest in the case now, as he has been gone -so short a time, particularly as they know nothing of the regular -habits of the boy. I suppose the only thing is to wait until to-morrow -morning; then, if he has not come home, we must take every means in our -power to find him." - -Lynde accepted the invitation that Mr. Pryor extended to him to remain -over night, and the following morning descended to breakfast without -ever having removed the clothing that he had worn the night before. - -"You have heard nothing yet?" he inquired of Mr. Pryor, almost before -they had greeted each other. - -"Not a word." - -The answer confirmed his fears. - -Something had happened, but what, it was impossible to determine. - -He left Mr. Pryor to make what search he deemed advisable, and going -to his own home long enough to change his clothes, called upon Miss -Chandler. - -He had not the remotest idea what he intended to say to her, and the -position in which he found himself placed was a decidedly unpleasant -one. - -"How pale you look!" exclaimed Miss Chandler, offering him her lips to -kiss. - -It was an exceedingly cold caress that fell upon them, but if she felt -it, she made no sign. - -"I don't think I am quite well. I did not sleep last night." - -"Has anything happened?" - -"Not directly to me; but it concerns some friends of mine, who were -terribly upset; and as I was with them, naturally I shared their -anxiety." - -"What was it?" - -"A mysterious disappearance of a member of the family. It is really a -most extraordinary thing! The person I refer to is Miss Leonie Cuyler!" - -He was looking directly at Miss Chandler as he spoke, in fact had not -removed his eyes from the handsome face since his entrance. - -She started perceptibly, but recovered herself with suspicious -promptness. - -"You surprise me!" she said, coolly. "I did not know that Miss Cuyler -had been found since her other mysterious disappearance. It seems that -she has a _penchant_ for disappearances. One could almost get used to -them, they occur so frequently." - -"This is different from that. She had no reason for it, none earthly, -and I cannot understand it!" - -"It seems to me that you are curiously interested in Miss Cuyler!" - -"I am! She seems to be a young woman who is bearing the burden of the -wrong doing of some one else." - -Miss Chandler's face flushed dully. - -"It is a subject upon which I have given no thought," she replied, -coldly. - -"Somehow I hoped that she might have come to you." - -A pallor crept about the full lips that Pyne was not slow to see. - -He was aware also of the sudden tightening of the hands about a -paper-cutter that she had taken up, and of the quick, questioning -glitter that came to her eyes, to fade almost at once under the -restraint that she was putting upon herself. - -"To me?" she repeated, frigidly. "I fail to see why you should have -thought that. I scarcely knew Miss Cuyler." - -"But you interested yourself in her once. She might have thought that -you would again." - -"I had really forgotten her. What I did was not interest, but humanity. -She would never have come to me for anything." - -The very manner of the utterance of the words convinced Pyne that she -had been there, and that Miss Chandler, his handsome _fiancee_, knew -more of the disappearance than she proposed to tell. - -What was the secret that linked those two together, and what had Miss -Chandler done with the young woman who seemed to possess some secret -that she was determined to have concealed? - -He knew that he could discover nothing further from her. He knew that -inquiry would bring forth no further information, and that the only -possible hope of ascertaining was to wait and watch. - -He must secure the co-operation of a clever detective, and with the -assistance that he could lend, he hoped for the best. - -His manner to Miss Chandler was affectionate, as usual, though there -was never any particular amount of demonstration. - -He felt that whatever the nature of his discoveries might be, they -would not release him from his obligation, so that what he was doing -was because of his love for Leonie and the fact that humanity demanded -it. - -As soon as consistency with his former habits would allow, he left the -residence of his _fiancee_, fully convinced that there was a deadly -secret, and determined that, for the sake of the innocent woman, he -would fathom it. - -"You seem in some way to have changed to me of late, Lynde," she said -to him as he was leaving. "I feel that you are growing away from me. I -am afraid that I destroyed my own chances for happiness upon that day -that I forgot the modesty of my sex, and went to your office to plead -with you for what I could not allow to be wrested from me without a -struggle. I loved you, Lynde, and felt that to lose you would be worse -than death. You do not despise me for my unwomanliness, do you? You -will never forget the promise that you made to me on that day?" - -"I will never forget that promise, Evelyn. You may be sure of that. You -must not think that your act that day caused you to fall in my esteem. -A woman loses none of the beauty of her sex because she loves. My -promise is yours, and there is nothing that can release me from it but -death." - -She kissed him and let him go. - -As the door closed upon him, she turned away with a short laugh. - -"Fool!" she muttered. "He will keep his word, and under any -circumstances I am safe." - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -"Liz! Liz!" - -The call had to be repeated many times before it met with an answer, -and even then it came faintly and broken by sobs. - -"What do you want?" - -"Has Ben gone out?" - -"Yes, curse him!" - -"Won't you come in awhile? It is terrible in this horrible darkness -alone. Don't cry, Liz. Come and tell me what he has done to you." - -"It ain't to me. God knows I would bear it and say nothing if it was -only me; but it is Dick, poor little Dick, and I am afraid he has -killed him." - -"Open the door, Liz. Let me help you in some way. I swear to you that I -will not try to escape." - -The woman arose and threw it open, allowing the girl in the rags of a -boy to come from that pit of darkness into the light. - -"I would not care much if you did escape!" she exclaimed dully. "He -would kill me then, and I think I would be happier if he did. Look -there." - -She pointed to the child who lay upon a pile of straw on the floor, the -miserable little hunchback who had unconsciously prevented Leonie from -leaving there upon the night of her imprisonment. - -"He has killed him," continued the woman, her voice filing -passionately. "Last night when the poor child came in he was sick, -so sick that he could scarcely drag his misshapen body after him. -Ben told him to do something, and Dick did not get up as quick as Ben -thought he ought, and he gave him a terrible beating. This morning the -poor boy was so sick that he could not get out of his bed. I begged Ben -to let him alone, but the more I begged the more determined he became. -Dick got up, and as he did so, staggered against the wall and fell; -then Ben, who swore it was nothing but laziness, got the cowhide, and -the poor body is black and blue from the marks upon it. Oh, if God -would but strike him dead, how much good it would do us all!" - -"Why do you live with him, Liz? Why do you not run away?" - -"Why?" she asked bitterly. "Where would I go? What would I do? Besides, -he would find me and he would kill me. You don't know Ben as I do. He -is not the only man in the world that cares nothing for his wife and -yet forces her to live with him, because the devil in his nature tells -him that it is a good way to torture her. I don't go because I am -afraid, like a thousand other poor women who inhabit the world. Some -day I know that I shall kill him. If he would confine his beatings to -me, I might endure it, but when he treats Dick in the way that he does, -there will come a time when the worm will turn, and I, who have been -trampled upon, will become a fiend of his own creating." - -Leonie had turned away from the woman's passionate agony, and had -lifted the little form that lay upon its rude bed in her arms. - -The child groaned and shrunk back as though expecting a blow, and a hot -tear fell upon his flushed cheeks as he saw the compassionate face bent -above him. - -Leonie laid her cool hand upon his burning brow, and in a soothing -voice said: - -"What pains you, Dick? Tell me, dear, and perhaps there may be -something that I can do for you! Don't be afraid. There is nothing to -hurt you now." - -He lifted his scorching hand and laid it upon her face. His lips -trembled so that articulation was almost impossible, but he managed to -make her understand the words: - -"My throat!" - -For one moment she shrunk from him, but in the next he was lifted in -her arms. She sat in a chair rocking him to and fro. - -"Liz," she cried, excitedly, "you must go for a doctor at once--at -once, do you hear?--or the child will die! He has scarlet-fever or -diphtheria, one of the two--I am not doctor enough to know which!" - -A wild terror leaped to the woman's face, but she did not move. - -"I can't!" she gasped. "Ben would kill me for leaving you here alone, -and he would kill Dick because I loved him enough to risk it. Oh, my -God, what am I to do?" - -"Go for the doctor, quick!" commanded Leonie, "Ben can think that I was -locked up, for I swear to you that I will make no attempt to escape. -If he undertakes to hurt Dick when he comes home I will find a way to -prevent him if I get killed myself for it! Oh, Liz, go! Is it possible -that you can stop to think of anything when this poor child is dying?" - -"Dying! dying!" repeated the unhappy woman, in an awe-stricken voice. -"Now, God hear my vow! If he dies I will kill the man that has caused -it, I swear it! He has wrecked my life, he has made me what I am, and I -will end it all in a fitting manner. Oh, Dick! Dick!" - -She snatched up a scarf and wrapped it about her head, dashing down the -steps and out the door with the speed of the wind. - -She did not pause even to secure the door behind her, but seemed almost -to fly along until she had reached the office of a doctor. - -"Quick!" she gasped. "It is Dick, and he is dying!" - -The medical man knew nothing of who Dick was, but the manner of the -woman was impressive to the last degree. - -"Wait!" he cried. "What is the matter with him? I must know, in order -to take what I may need." - -"God knows what!" replied Liz, her expression indicating insanity. "I -think Ben has killed him!" - -The doctor waited for nothing further. - -He snatched his hat, and without a word followed the woman as she -rushed along in silence to her own home. - -The door was ajar. She pushed it open and led the way up the stairs. - -There was Leonie, as she had left her, rocking the child to and fro in -the dilapidated chair, and singing to him a little song that she might -lull him to sleep. - -The eyes of the unfortunate mother filled with tears as they fell upon -the tableau. - -She touched the short crop of curling hair so lightly with her lips -that Leonie did not feel it, but it rested there like a benediction. - -The doctor took the slight wrist in his hand, and counted the pulse, -then he looked at the sploched tongue. - -"Why did you tell me that this child had been killed by some one?" he -demanded of the woman. "He has a terrible case of malignant diphtheria." - -Brave as she was, Leonie's face became ghastly. - -With awful horror, Liz crept closer to the doctor. - -"Will he die?" she asked, in a hoarse whisper. - -"It is impossible to say, though the chances are largely against him. -It will depend a great deal upon his nursing. You should have another -woman to assist you." - -Then the nobility of Leonie's nature asserted itself. - -"I will do that, doctor," she said gently. - -"But you are a boy, and they are careless. He will need attention day -and night." - -Leonie colored. - -"I think you will find me a capable nurse and a devoted one," she -answered gently. - -"Then to you I will give the instructions, for the mother seems -incapable of understanding." - -Very carefully he went over everything that she was to do in detail, -telling her that perhaps upon her the life of the child depended, then -took his leave, promising to call again later in the day. - -"Liz," Leonie said, when she was again alone with the mother and her -unfortunate child, "you must go at once and get what the doctor has -prescribed. You need not fear but that I will take the best care -possible of Dick." - -"Malignant diphtheria!" whispered the poor woman, as she took the paper -from the girl's hand. "And Ben beat him when he was dying! God forgive -him, for I never can!" - -She left the room mumbling some words to herself, words that seemed to -proceed from a breaking heart; but Leonie scarcely knew that she had -gone before she returned. - -The medicine was prepared; but with all his frail strength the child -resisted, until Leonie bent her tender head and kissed him. - -"Won't you take it for me, Dick?" she whispered. "It will make you -well, dear, and then there will be such fun for you and me. Don't you -want to be well for poor mamma's sake?" - -He turned his head without a word and did as she bade him, his -suffering terrible to witness. Then pressing his head gently down upon -her shoulder, Leonie rocked him until he slept. - -Liz watched in a silence that was pitiful. Crouched down where she -could listen to the slow tones of the soothing voice, she watched, -hoped a little, and perhaps prayed. - -"Had you not better lay him down?" she whispered, when quite sure that -he slept. - -Leonie shook her head. - -"The bed is too hard," she answered. "Poor little thing, it will not -hurt me to hold him." - -"But you may take the disease yourself." - -"One must always take that risk. I am willing if I can be of service to -him now." - -"God bless you!" whispered Liz. "I'll find a way to repay you for this -if I am killed for it. I can never forget that you might have escaped -and would not because of me and my poor child. You are free to go now -if you wish." - -"And leave you to face Ben Mauprat with that child? No! my liberty -would be sweet to me, but I could not purchase it at such a cost to -you." - -Liz lifted her eyes blinded with tears. She kneeled and kissed the hand -that supported Dick's head. - -"You are an angel!" she whispered. "I had a daughter once, long years -ago that might have been like you if she had lived, but she died years -ago. That was the cause of Ben's deserting me and running away for all -those years when I was little more than a girl myself. Perhaps it would -have been better for me if he had never come back!" - -A puzzled expression crossed Leonie's face. - -"How long have you and Ben been married?" she asked, not forgetting in -her excitement to speak sufficiently low not to disturb the sleeping -child. - -"More than thirty years ago. He deserted me and married another woman, -but she could not have been his wife, because I was that. Then she died -and he came back to me." - -Leonie could scarcely control her agitation. - -"You say----" - -But before she could complete the sentence, the door opened and Ben -Mauprat was in the room. - -With a low cry of horror, Liz sprung to her feet, and at the same time -the eyes of the child opened. He shrunk further into Leonie's arms, -seeming to entreat her protection. She clasped him closely and awaited -coming events. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -As though paralyzed by the audacity of the situation, Ben Mauprat stood -there regarding the three. - -Not a single word was spoken, and for seemingly an interminable time -a silence that was painful rested upon them; then, with a snarl of -vengeance, he stepped forward, his hand extended as though to snatch -the boy from Leonie's arms, but quicker than thought Liz had placed -herself between them. - -"Don't do it, Ben," she cried hoarsely. "I've been a good wife and a -true one to you, but you must not carry this any further than you have. -God knows I do not know how it can be, but I have loved you with the -devotion that few women have shown the husbands who have treated them -with love and tenderness, and I have had nothing but blows and curses -in return. I have never opened my mouth against it, and I never shall, -if you kill me; but you have done your last to Dick. Listen, Ben; he is -dying. Do you hear? Dying, Ben, and you are the cause of it. That girl -whom you beat, and almost killed, has more love for your own child than -you have, for she gave the liberty that she might have secured for his -sake; and as there is a God above us, I will protect her with my life! -I have been a coward just as long as I shall. As far as I am concerned -I am willing to bear anything, but for Dick's sake the end has come." - -There was a dramatic intensity about the situation that was thrilling. - -The woman's tone was not loud, but her arm was raised until she seemed -to tower above Ben Mauprat like a giantess above a dwarf. - -Her eyes glowed with the passion that was moving her, her very bosom -seemed to swell until it threatened bursting. - -The last words of her sentence were given a force that caused Leonie to -almost rise to her feet. - -"Stand out of the way!" exclaimed Mauprat slowly, his eyes glowing with -rage. "I don't want to kill you." - -"You may do it and welcome if you wish," exclaimed Liz, vehemently, -"but you shall not kill my child! Do you hear that, Ben? He may not -live an hour through the cruelty that you have already shown him, but -that hour shall be passed in peace. You beat him last night and again -this morning, and ten minutes ago the doctor told us that it would be -nursing and chance alone that could save his life, and that chance he -shall have! Don't go near him, Ben! Don't try it! I love him as the -only thing that holds me to life. Without him there is nothing in all -this world that makes it worth living, and as long as I can I will keep -him with me. You made him a hunchback, you have robbed him of every -hope, but you shall not take the few hours that remain to him. I beg -that you will listen to me, for if you refuse, as surely as you take a -step in his direction, I will kill you." - -There was a hideous emphasis upon the last words that would have told -a man more of a believer in the vengeance of a woman, that the worm had -turned at last. - -But Ben Mauprat was not a believer in that sort of thing. Once a -coward, always a coward to him. - -He laughed fiendishly. - -"'Pon my word, Liz, you are almost as good as a play!" he cried -brutally. "If it were not setting a bad example I would excuse you for -what you have done, on account of the amusement you have afforded me, -but I am afraid that if I did that, the next thing you would do would -be to allow this girl who has won your heart through her attention to -that brat, to escape, and so ruin all my chances for wealth. The young -one has always stood between me and your obedience! He has caused you -to oppose my will oftener than anything else. He has caused you to -get numberless beatings, and therefore the very best thing that could -happen to you as well as to me, would be to have him die. I am not -going to kill him outright, but I am going to show you that I will -stand none of your rebellion, and that I will listen to none of your -threats. I am going to lock that dangerous little rebel up, to settle -with her later, and then I am going to give the boy the beating that -his mother deserves." - -"Don't do it, Ben! He has malignant diphtheria, and he would but die -under it!" - -The words were spoken in an awe-struck whisper, but they only seemed to -anger the man the more. - -"Malignant diphtheria, has he?" he exclaimed, harshly. "Well he may -give it to the rest of us, and the best thing that can be done is to -put him out of the way. Don't give us any more lip, Liz, but stand -aside!" - -He put out his hand to compel her obedience, but she only caught it, -and held him convulsively. - -"Don't, Ben!" she cried, wildly. "For the love of God have mercy! I -have never asked many things of you, and I beg this as I would not -plead for my own life! Oh, Ben, have mercy!" - -"I am tired of this now! Shut up, or----" - -"Ben, remember how true I have been. Remember----" - -"Let me go, do you hear?" - -"Ben, have pity! I swear that it is the last favor that I shall ever -ask!" - -For all answer he gave her a terrible fling, that sent her spinning -across the room. - -With a single stride he reached Leonie. - -In another instant it is not to be doubted that he would have snatched -the already dying child from her arms, but the desperate mother again -interfered. - -She did not fall, but maddened by her fear for the little, unfortunate -creature in which was centered her only love, her only happiness, she -seized a stick of wood that lay near the stove on the floor, and as Ben -would have snatched the child from its helpless protector, she brought -the cudgel down upon the back of his head with a force that, for a -woman of her build, was supernatural. - -Without a word or even a moan he fell forward upon his face and lay -there like one dead. - -A look of horror, somewhat tempered with relief, passed over Leonie's -face. - -But Liz seemed suddenly converted into a maniac. - -A shrill laugh fell from her lips, but almost before it reached the -atmosphere, it was changed to a cry. - -She flung herself upon her knees before the boy and took his little, -burning hand in hers, pressing her hot lips upon it wildly. - -"I have killed him!" she whispered, hoarsely. "Do you hear that, my -darling? I have killed him, and in a moment they will come to take your -mother away to hang her. But you must not fret, Dick. I knew that it -would come sooner or later, and it has come now, but you must not let -it worry you, my darling. Oh, Dick! Dick! Dick!" - -The words faded into a sob that was terrible. - -Leonie laid her hand upon the bowed head gently. - -"Think what you are doing, Liz," she said, almost tenderly. "The child -is very ill--dying, perhaps, and you are exciting him like this. For -his sake, calm yourself, Liz, and listen to me." - -"Calm!" echoed the poor woman, as though that were the only word that -she had heard. "How can I be calm when I have killed my husband and my -child is dying? Oh, girl, do you know what that means to me? Have you -any idea what it means to be all alone in the world with a weight like -that upon your conscience?" - -"Hush!" cried Leonie, earnestly. "You have not killed Ben. You have -only stunned him, and if he returns to consciousness to find us still -here, I would not give much for any of our lives. Do you hear me, Liz? -Do you not see the necessity of our taking Dick away before he returns -to life?" - -For the first time the woman seemed to be aroused. - -She lifted herself and looked wildly about her. - -"You are right!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "He may not be dead--child, it -would be better if I had killed him, for when he awakens he will kill -us all. What shall we do? Help me to think! My brain seems to be on -fire!" - -"Is there no one whom you know to whom we could go for protection?" - -"With him?" cried Liz, pointing to the child. "You must be mad. Do -you think any one is going to risk a disease like that for his sake -or mine? There is nothing that we can do, but you can go. There is no -reason that you should die because we must." - -"Do you think I am such a coward that I would leave you here alone? I -would rather die with you. No, Liz! If one of us must remain we must -all do so, but--I have an idea, Liz. It is a hopeless situation for -you anyway, and therefore, it cannot be any worse. Every moment may be -precious to us now, and therefore, we must act quickly. We must call -upon the police for protection. We must have an officer here and have -Ben arrested when he awakens." - -"But----" - -"There is no time to argue it, Liz. It is a last resort." - -"Then you go. I will keep the child." - -"No. I must remain. If he were to awaken and find you here without me, -he would kill you without the hesitation of a second; but if he should -recover during your absence, I could invent some story that would keep -him talking until your return. Do not fear for me, Liz, but, for God's -sake, hurry!" - -For only one second Liz paused; then, with not a glance in the -direction of the prostrate man, she murmured a word of blessing upon -the head of the girl who had, at the risk of her own life, befriended -her, and hastened away. - -With a heart that seemed to stand still with dread, Leonie awaited. - -Only once she looked at the child. The great eyes were fixed pleadingly -upon her, as though beseeching her not to forsake him. - -She pressed her hand over them, to close the burning lids. - -"Don't fret, Dick!" she said. "Nothing shall harm you, my poor little -one, until I have been killed first." - -The sound of her own voice, in the terrible stillness that had fallen -upon them, was uncanny. She shivered with fright. - -She turned from the unfortunate child, and cast a look of dread upon -the man beside her, and, to her horror, found the hideous, glaring eyes -fixed upon her. - -She could not prevent a little shriek of terror. She watched him as -though fascinated, while very slowly he arose to his feet, never once -removing his terrible, glassy eyes from her face. - -It seemed ages until he had gained his feet, and after he had, he still -stood glaring at her, slowly rolling up his sleeves in a manner that -seemed to paralyze her with horror. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -Like a bird that is magnetized into inactivity by the movements of a -snake, Leonie sat and watched Ben Mauprat. - -Slowly, and showing his teeth in a hideous manner that was peculiar to -him, Ben continued to approach, until within a few feet of her he made -a sudden spring. - -How it was that she escaped him she could never have told, but she -became conscious that she had leaped by him, and was standing a few -feet away holding the child who was a heavy burden in spite of his -being a physical wreck. - -But she forgot it. She did not even remember in her fright that she had -him in her arms, but stood there clasping him closely to her, panting -with terror. - -The man turned toward her again, but before he had advanced many -inches, she seemed to realize the necessity for immediate action, -knowing but too well that his next attempt would not be attended with -failure. - -Hastily she laid Dick in an old ragged chair and placed herself before -it. With cold defiance she lifted her handsome head. - -"Now, Ben Mauprat," she cried, her voice ringing out with clear -determination, "I am only a weak girl, but I am determined that you -shall not touch that boy, and if you do, it shall be over my dead body. -You may not know it, but I was never one to threaten uselessly. There -is nothing in life that makes it valuable to me, therefore there is -no reason why I should not keep my word. But for your own sake listen -to me a moment. I have sent Liz out of the room. It will be utterly -useless for you to attempt to find her, but if you harm me, she will -hand you over to the police within ten minutes. You will not have a -possible chance of escape. She is determined that she will save the -life of her child, and she knows that upon mine his depends. Now, Ben, -listen to reason! You say that you have a purpose to accomplish. You -destroy your chance of doing it, and send yourself to the gallows." - -She paused, her strength almost deserting her. She was trembling in -every limb, but there was little evidence of weakness about her. -She seemed like a marble statue imbued with life and unchangeable -resolution. - -"I shall not send myself to the gallows!" he exclaimed, his eyes -blood-shot, either from the blow on the head, or his rage, Leonie -could not quite determine which. "I am going to give that boy the -beating that I have promised him. I am going to give you one for your -interference in my affairs, and then after that I shall settle with -Liz, and before I am through with her she will wish she had never been -born. Do you understand that, young woman?" - -"I understand that you are a very foolish man who are risking your own -neck to gratify a miserable spirit of revenge. Ben, there was a time -when you were my mother's husband. Because of that connection with one -who would have been dear to me had I been old enough to know her, and -who was the one sacred thought of all my young life, I plead with you -to spare yourself the shame of dying upon the scaffold!" - -"You are talking like an idiot. I am a fool that I have listened to -you at all, but I am through now. Stand from before that boy! I shall -settle with him first and you may come after." - -"I will not." - -"What, defiance?" - -"Anything that you choose to call it, but I say determination. You -shall not touch him!" - -"Once more, stand aside!" - -"And again. I will not!" - -"Then take the consequences!" - -He strode toward her, his brutal face purple with passion, his heavy -fist clinched as though to enforce obedience, but instead of thinking -of the words that she had been speaking to him, Leonie had been making -a plan of action. - -She was too busy thinking how she was to save herself and the boy, -whose life seemed to depend upon her, to wonder at the continued -absence of Liz. - -As she saw Ben coming to her, she sprung aside for the moment, and -almost before he realized that she had moved, she was back in her place -before Dick again, a broken pitcher filled with water, clasped firmly -by the handle in her hand. - -As the man approached her, she pitched the contents into his eyes. - -With a growl of rage, Ben turned aside, but only for an instant. - -With the water still dripping from his face and falling over his -clothes, he made a desperate spring upon Leonie! - -She lifted the pitcher, and was about to bring it down with all her -force upon his head, when the door suddenly opened and Liz entered! - -The woman took in the situation at a glance. - -A low cry issued from her lips, and a single word. It was: - -"Quick!" - -A man in the blue uniform and brass buttons of a police officer sprung -into the room. - -With his fist poised in the air, Ben turned. - -He understood what had happened, and Leonie's meaning. - -He fell back with an awful oath. - -"What are you doing here?" he demanded, savagely. "This house is mine, -and I command you to get out of it!" - -"I am going to do so at once," answered the officer, serenely, "and you -are going with me!" - -"I think you will miss your reckoning in that!" answered Ben, bracing -himself in a manner that the officer understood at once to mean fight. - -The policeman lifted his club threateningly. - -"I don't want to have to use any force with you, my man," he said -calmly, but with every evidence of meaning precisely what he said; "but -if I must do so, you will find that I know how to use a club with good -effect. This woman has sworn out a warrant for your arrest. I have -never been sent out yet for a man that I did not take him back with me, -dead or alive, and I do not propose to make you an exception to the -rule. My record shall remain unbroken. Now, are you ready to go with me -quietly, or must I use force?" - -"You can use whatever you please," replied Ben, looking over the man's -shoulder at Liz; "but before you do it, I have a little debt to settle." - -He paused for a moment as though considering, then spoke to Liz: - -"So I owe this to you, do I?" - -"It was to save Dick's life, Ben," answered the poor woman, hopelessly. - -"Oh, was it? Well, I hope, as you have taken so much trouble to save -it, you may enjoy it. You have played the devil with me, and I have -never allowed any one to do that yet without giving them what they -deserved. I am sorry that I have not time to at least allow you one -prayer, but it is impossible on this occasion." - -Almost before he had ceased speaking, he had drawn a revolver from his -pocket, and pointing it at the woman's head, pulled the trigger. - -Accustomed as he was to such scenes, the officer had not contemplated -such an act upon the part of the man, but Leonie seemed to understand -perfectly what was coming. - -Perhaps it was the suggestion of fear, since cowardice often makes one -more wary than the coolest bravery. - -As the pistol was leveled, she threw out the pitcher that she held and -struck the man's arm, sending it in an acute angle. - -The bullet passed, perhaps, not two inches above Liz's head, but, as -the smoke cleared away, Ben saw her standing there unharmed. - -What he might have done to Leonie under the circumstances can better be -imagined than described, but before he had an opportunity to allow his -fiendishness swing, he was caught by the officer. - -With a foul oath Ben turned upon him. - -One blow from the revolver across the man's head cut the flesh until -the blood streamed across his eyes, and the next instant an escape -might have been effected that would have cost them all their lives, but -that Leonie seized the piece of wood that had served Liz so well, and -planted another blow upon the back of Mauprat's head. - -It did not stun him, but brought him to his knees, giving the officer -time to recover himself. - -Before Ben had staggered to his feet, the "bracelets" were slipped over -his wrists, and he found himself powerless. - -Even then his efforts at escape did not cease. He made a leap in the -direction of the fire-escape, but before he could reach it, the burly -hand of the officer had him in a vise-like grip. - -"If you try that again," he exclaimed hoarsely, wiping the blood from -his eyes with the back of one hand, "I'll settle you with this club! Do -you understand me? I never beat a man if I can help it, but when he -forces me into it, he never wants another from the same source. Now -come on!" - -He gave Ben a jerk which nearly upset him, but if he expected quiet -yielding he was mistaken. - -Ben turned, even pinioned as he was, to show fight, but a single blow -from the club was all that he required. - -The officer jerked him to the window, and throwing it up, put his head -out and blew his whistle shrilly. - -With one hand grasping his club firmly and the other Ben's collar, he -waited. - -It did not require many minutes until the call for help was answered -and the other officer who had been summoned came up-stairs. - -"I did not want to risk an escape," the first man said by way of -explanation. "He is one of the toughest customers that I have come -across in many a day." - -With one on either side they were leading him away, when Ben turned to -Liz. - -"You have escaped me this time," he said savagely, "but I will have my -revenge, if I am forced to break through prison walls to get it. And as -for you"--turning to Leonie---- - -"Shut up!" commanded the officer. Then to the two women: "You need not -be afraid. He'll get a good long spell for this, and when he gets out -he won't be so fond of this sort of thing. You need not let it worry -you in the least degree. Now come on, and mind you step quickly." - -The handling that he received was not of the gentlest, and as the -officer closed the door behind him Liz crept up and touched Leonie -gently. - -"What are we to do?" she gasped. - -"You must not fear," answered Leonie bravely. "There are many things -that we both can do, now that there is no longer any danger from him. -But the first thing is to attend to Dick, poor little Dick. You must -forget Ben, Liz, and remember only that Dick needs you." - -"And you?" - -"You may be quite sure that I shall never desert you while you want me. -I have no mother, Liz, no one on this earth any more than you have, and -after I have accomplished my mission we will go away and live together, -if you wish, getting what happiness we can out of the life that we -shall make for ourselves." - -"God bless you, my noble friend. I think you have already saved me from -a madhouse." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -A nebulous gleam of light from an almost exhausted candle fell upon -Leonie and Liz as they sat silently in the room where Dick lay in a -disturbed slumber. - -He had been placed upon the almost comfortable bed that Ben Mauprat had -used as his exclusive resting-place, and appeared more comfortable than -they could have hoped. - -An old-fashioned clock upon the mantelpiece tolled the hour of two, -and, with a shiver of horror and dread that she could not control, Liz -drew nearer to Leonie. - -"You go to bed," she whispered in a tone that would not disturb the -child. "You must be almost dead!" - -"I am not in the least sleepy," answered Leonie. "You go. You will need -all your strength to-morrow." - -Liz shook her head. - -"I couldn't sleep. I don't feel as if I ever could again!" she -answered, drearily. - -"Then let us both sit up. I think he is better, don't you?" - -The question was asked with a nod of the head to indicate Dick, and Liz -glanced in his direction eagerly. - -"God knows I hope so," she said, with some degree of color warming her -pale cheeks. "I should go mad if he died!" - -"You must not say that, Liz. You must not rebel against the will of the -Lord. Why should you wish to keep him here for your sake, when your -own reason must tell you that it would be for his happiness to be in -Heaven?" - -"You don't know what it is! You don't know how alone I should be, and -how I love him!" cried the woman, passionately. - -"Do I not?" answered Leonie, sadly. "There was one to me as near almost -as he to you. I loved him with all the strength of my nature, and I -lost him. You may be sure that you have a sympathy for me which only a -similar experience can bring." - -"Tell me of it." - -"I cannot. The wound is too new. Liz, you told me that you were married -to Ben Mauprat thirty years ago, did you not?" - -"Yes." - -"And that he deserted you and married another woman. Was there ever any -divorce that enabled him to do that legally?" - -"No. He married her knowing that she never could be his wife so long -as I lived. He was not then what he is now. You would never believe -that he was the same man, nor me the same woman, for that matter. We -had a daughter that Ben was mad about. He seemed to love her as he -never loved anything before or since, and she died. He blamed me with -her death, when my own heart was breaking. He said that it was my -neglect that had killed her. We had a terrible quarrel, he beat me and -left me. I did not hear anything more of him for years, then one day -I heard that he was married. I searched for the truth and found it. -He was married to a young woman whose name was Lena. I saw her, and I -heard him call her name. They had a child, a little girl, but Ben never -seemed to care for her as he had done for our little one. I went to Ben -and tried to persuade him to come back to me, but he only laughed at -me. I did not tell the poor young thing that he called his wife the lie -with which he had deceived her. What would have been the good? It was -too late then to save her the disgrace that would have been upon her, -and she was a beautiful, delicate girl. Soon after that Ben committed a -crime and was put in the penitentiary. Before he was released she died. -I knew that the child had been adopted by some wealthy people, but I -never saw Lena again after that night. The girl who told us who you -were was the child. She is his own daughter." - -"Are you sure of that?" asked Leonie, endeavoring to control her -agitation. - -"Of course I am! He has told me so often." - -"But is there no other proof than just his words?" - -"I have seen letters from her, making the acknowledgment virtually." - -"Have you them?" - -"No, but I think I could find some of them easily enough!" - -"Liz, that girl is a thief!" - -"I know it! Her own father made a thief of her!" - -"If it had not been in her naturally, he could never have done it! She -would have died first! Do you think any one could ever have made a -thief of me?" - -"That was why Ben broke Dick's back; because the poor child refused to -steal!" - -"But Evelyn Chandler did not refuse, because I saw her do it! Liz, the -only man who has ever stood my friend, the man to whom I owe a debt -that never can be paid, is engaged to marry Evelyn Chandler, and I have -sworn to save him. There is but one way to do it, and that is to prove -her parentage, and the crime that she has committed! God knows if I -could give my life and save Lynde Pyne, I had rather do it, but that -would do no good! It would but insure the sacrifice." - -"Lynde Pyne! Lynde Pyne, did you say?" asked Liz, in a whisper, leaning -excitedly toward Leonie. - -"Yes! What do you know of him?" - -"Is not he the man who expected to be his uncle's heir, but his uncle -left all his money to Luis Kingsley instead?" - -"I don't know, but I think now that you mention it that I have heard -something of that kind!" - -"Yes, that is who it is! Ben knows where the will is that was made -after the one that gave Luis Kingsley the money. It gives everything to -Lynde Pyne! I have heard Ben and his daughter speak of it frequently. -They had it planned that she was to marry Lynde Pyne, and then the -will was to be produced. It makes him one of the wealthiest men in the -state." - -"I see it all now." - -"All what?" - -"Very many things that I could not understand before. Have you any idea -where that will is?" - -"No. But it must be somewhere in Ben's things, because the producing of -it depended upon him exclusively. His daughter wanted it, but Ben would -not let her have it. I am not sure, though, whether it is here or in -Luis Kingsley's office." - -"What did Ben have to do with him?" - -"He made a pretense of working there, but he was not in the office more -than half an hour during the week, and then only when he wanted to be. -Luis Kingsley knew that Ben had him in his power, and he did not dare -oppose Ben. Ben played the respectable because of his position down -there." - -"Liz, listen to me. You have said that you owed me a debt of gratitude -for what I did for Dick to-night. For myself, Heaven knows I would -never ask anything of you, but would be glad enough if there were -anything that I could do to make life more endurable to you. But, Liz, -there is another! One who is as dear to me as life itself, and for his -sake I ask that you help me to prove this. Help me to gain possession -of that will, to prove the unworthiness of Evelyn Chandler, and I will -stand by you and bless you until life leaves me! Promise me that you -will do this, Liz." - -"I promise with all my heart. I would do it, even if I knew that I -should never see you again, for the kindness that you have already -shown my poor boy, and for which God will surely bless you. I don't -know exactly how we are to find the will, but I do know about the proof -concerning Ben's daughter, and I can get that for you before morning if -you want it." - -They were interrupted by the sound of a groan, and rising, Leonie -glided noiselessly to the bed. The boy was awake, and in his eyes could -be plainly seen the presence of death. - -Leonie raised him in her arms. Her heart ached for the grief that she -knew the unfortunate mother must endure, and in the sympathy that was -aroused she forgot her own matters for the time. - -"What is it, Dick?" she asked tenderly. "Is there anything that you -want?" - -The suffering child tried to speak, but the painful effort ended in a -moan. - -The glassy eyes wandered to Liz's face and remained there as though in -dumb pleading. - -The woman came forward and knelt beside him. - -"Are you suffering, my boy?" she asked, endeavoring to strangle the -sobs that arose in her throat. - -He made a gesture of annoyance. - -With all his frail strength he was striving to say something, but the -words died upon his lips before a sound was articulated. - -He beat the air with his small hands madly, as though unable to bear it. - -"Is it water that you want, dear?" asked Leonie. "If so, nod your head!" - -He shook it as vigorously as his weakening strength would allow. - -"Is it anything that you want?" - -He indicated the negative. Another violent effort was followed by the -word: - -"Will!" - -"You mean that you know where the will is?" - -He nodded in the affirmative. - -"Well, never mind it now, dear. That will do when you are well and -strong. Now you must take the medicine that the doctor has left, -and----" - -"No!" he gasped. "No use. Good-bye--mother. It is all--over now, and he -can't--beat me--again. The will--is--in----" - -He caught his throat with his hands and seemed trying to tear the words -from it, but a fit of strangling ensued that was horrible. - -"Go for the doctor, Liz. Quick!" cried Leonie, ghastly with fear. - -Dick put out his hand. - -Once again he endeavored to speak, but it was followed by one gulp that -turned him purple in the face. - -Liz uttered a groan of anguish. - -He lifted his eyes once pleadingly; then settled himself back after a -long sigh in Leonie's arms. - -For many moments she held him closely; then with an expression of -terror, placed her ear near his heart. - -She lifted him tenderly and laid him back upon the bed. - -"What is it?" cried Liz, hoarsely. "Not--dead!" - -Leonie laid her arms around the woman's neck. - -"Remember that he is with God," she said gently. "In wishing to resist -the will of Heaven you wish to place him back here again where----" - -There was no need for the sentence to be completed, for it would have -been uttered to deaf ears. - -Liz had fainted. - -Unconsciousness was the kindest thing that Heaven could have sent, for -it relieved her for the time of the terrible grief of knowing that she -had lost the only being who held her to life. - -Utterly helpless and alone, Leonie left the room, and running -down-stairs, endeavored vainly to find help, then went back feeling -that she could not leave the living and the dead together under -circumstances so ghastly as those. - -She hurried back to the room where she had left them. - -It was a piteous scene that greeted her. - -Upon the floor Liz sat with the body of the boy clasped to her breast, -rocking him to and fro while she sung to him the lullaby with which she -had soothed him to sleep in infancy. - -"Hush!" she whispered, lifting her finger warningly as Leonie entered -the room. "The baby is asleep. He has not been well, and you must not -wake him." - -Acting upon an impulse, Leonie sprung to her side and took the child -from her. - -"What are you thinking of?" she gasped. - -But before she could lay the child upon the bed, she felt ten long -fingers close over her throat from the back. - -She endeavored to cry out, but they clung all the more closely, closing -tighter and tighter until she was as helpless as the child upon the bed. - -Then for the first time she seemed to understand. - -She was in the hands of a maniac. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -As the terrible thought came to Leonie, with all its frightful import, -she endeavored to conceive some plan by which she could save herself, -knowing that upon the quickness of her action alone depended her chance -of life. - -And life never appears so intensely sweet as when we are looking the -loss of it squarely in the face. - -Yet what was she to do? - -She knew that she had as well undertake to move the fingers of a hand -cast in iron as those upon her throat. - -It required not an instant of time for those thoughts to flash briefly -through her head, but the time seemed ages to her strained nerves. - -Still, under all the excitement and horrors of the night, her mind had -never seemed so clear, so perfectly capable of coping with positions -that appeared hopeless. - -Endeavoring to restrain her breathing, so that she could endure the -choking as long as possible, she threw a quick glance about her. Within -reach was the pistol that the officer had torn from Ben's hand, and -had, in his subsequent haste, evidently forgotten. - -She shuddered as she caught sight of it, but at that moment the fingers -resumed a closer hold. - -She gave herself a fierce wrench, and endeavored to turn herself in the -terrible grasp, but she was like a piece of metal held by a trip-hammer. - -Under the strain of hideous necessity, she put out her hand and grasped -the revolver. - -In it she saw the only hope of life, but what a frightful hope it was! -Still there was not an instant to lose. - -It seems to require a hundred words in cold type to describe the action -of a second, for certainly it was not much longer than that before the -little weapon of death was clasped firmly in Leonie's hands. - -Unaccustomed as she was to the handling of such instruments, and -further affected by the terror of the moment, her finger came first in -contact with the trigger. - -It was self-acting, and before she realized that it was really in her -possession, there was a frightful explosion, and the next moment she -felt the hands drop from her throat. - -The concussion put the light out, and she was in absolute darkness, -with death and lunacy! - -It was not an enviable position, most particularly as she had no idea -of the extent of the damage done by the pistol. - -Her excitement was almost unbearable. - -She turned in Liz's direction. - -Even in the darkness she could not fail to see the phosphorescent glare -from the wild eyes of the woman that glittered like those of a cat. - -With a quick dodge, Leonie passed her, sprawling over a chair in the -darkness, but with the dexterity of mania Liz followed her. - -A chase ensued that for dramatic horror could not be excelled, and -yet, perhaps, the interest was felt most by the participator who was -conscious of the terrible danger in which she was placed. - -She still had the revolver clasped in her hand, being pretty sure that -at least three chambers were still full, but that was to be used only -as a last resort. - -Then, to her surprise, Liz paused. She could see her quite distinctly -by the glare in her eyes. - -"Liz," she said, gently, "don't you know who I am? Why do you want to -hurt me, dear? I am Leonie! Leonie, whom Dick loved, and who loves both -you and him! Don't you know that, Liz?" - -The woman laughed hoarsely. - -"You can't deceive me!" she answered in a tone that was horrible. "You -are Ben, and you have come to beat my poor boy when he is dying! But -you shall not do it! Do you hear that? I have been a good wife to you, -but it is ended now! You shall not beat my child again, and in order to -keep you from it, I am going to kill you!" - -"Listen to my voice, Liz, and let that convince you that I am not Ben. -Indeed you are wrong, dear. Don't you know how we were talking just -now about the will that was made, and you said that Ben knew where it -was? Don't you remember how poor little Dick tried to tell us something -about it? I am Leonie, Liz; can't you understand that, dear?" - -She shook her head. - -"You are trying to deceive me, but you can't do it." - -"Then if I promise you that I will not touch Dick!" - -"You can't fool me; I knew you were Ben, but you thought I would not -recognize you in the darkness. I am going to kill you, then I am going -to take my boy and go away where no one will ever know. Oh, I have -thought of it often, often! I have all my plans made, and when they -find you they will never suspect that I had anything to do with it. I -have always known that it would come to this sooner or later, and I -have thought many times of how I would do it--just with this long, thin -knife that I have got in my hand. It will go to your heart so easily -that I don't think that any one will ever see the wound that it will -make. I don't want to hurt you any more than I can, for I used to love -you, Ben; but I am going to free Dick. Do you hear, Ben? I hope you are -ready to die, for as there is a God your time has come!" - -There in the darkness, with only those glittering eyes visible, and the -faintest outline of her surroundings, even with a revolver clasped in -her hand, the position was one of almost incalculable danger to Leonie, -who knew as little about a revolver as a child. - -Her teeth chattered with terror. - -She saw the woman creeping toward her again, and a wild desire to -escape if the most desperate chances were required, took possession of -her. Her heart seemed almost to stop its beating. - -She turned and fled, careless of direction, and the next instant -tripped over something, tumbling to the floor with a crash! - -The pistol flew from her hand. - -Feeling that every moment was precious, she groped about for it, but it -was not to be found. Then she felt the brush of a woman's skirt over -her. - -Liz bent downward. - -Leonie believed that her hour had come, but with a last struggle for -precious life, she caught the woman's feet at the ankles and upset her. -The respite was only momentary. - -She readily understood that an attempt to cope with insanity was but -another form of madness, and leaping to her feet, she approached the -window. - -Her resolve was desperate. She would trust to a jump in preference to a -lunatic. - -Then at the last moment, Heaven seemed to come to her rescue. - -As she threw up the sash, she caught sight of a rope that was attached -to the sill, for some purpose of Ben's own. Hastily securing the end in -a knot around her waist, she sprung upon the sill and let herself down. - -She did not pause to consider the danger. It was alluring beside that -which she had but just escaped. - -Down, down she went through the gloom of the night into the street, but -before she reached the pavement, she felt a heavy hand laid upon her. - -Rough as the grasp was, it felt like the hand of Heaven to her. - -"You young rascal!" a voice exclaimed. "What are you doing leaving a -house in that fashion in the dead of night?" - -Leonie grasped the hand and shook it. There were tears in her voice and -in her eyes, tears that were the result of hysteria. - -"I have been fighting with a maniac," she exclaimed, hastily. "For -God's sake look!" - -She had glanced up at the window through which she had escaped, and as -she did so the street lamp showed her the figure of a woman standing in -it. - -"Don't jump, Liz! Don't, for the love of Heaven!" she shrieked, wildly. -"You will kill yourself! There is no rope to save you, and there would -not be a chance! Oh, Liz, for God's sake go back!" - -But the voice only seemed alluring to the woman upon the sill. - -She jumped from it back into the room, and as Leonie thought she had -listened to her warning, she saw her appear there again with something -clasped in her arms. - -Before the girl could open her mouth through the horror upon her, there -was a wild scream of laughter, and the next moment Liz had leaped into -the air, with the burden still held closely to her. - -Breathless, ghastly with hideous fear, Leonie grasped the hand of the -man who stood in silence beside her. - -People in the neighborhood who had heard the wild cry that the -stillness of the night made all the more shrill and fierce, put their -heads out of the window to see the cause, and in a moment the street -was crowded with men, boys and even women, some drawing on their coats -and others not even taking that precaution against the dampness of the -night. - -Then some one with more presence of mind than the rest summoned an -ambulance. - -The police arrived, then the ambulance, and with tenderness and care -the woman and child were placed within. - -"Is she dead?" whispered Leonie to the ambulance surgeon. - -"No," he answered, kindly. "She is not dead, but it might be kinder to -her if she were. The child is dead. Is she your mother, my boy?" - -It was the first time that Leonie had thought of her clothes, and her -face colored slightly as she answered: - -"No, sir, not my mother, but my friend! Her husband was arrested -to-night and taken to jail for trying to kill her child. He died of----" - -But the surgeon had no time for details. It was necessary to get the -woman to the hospital as soon as possible, and giving the address to -Leonie, he gave the order to the driver. - -The man who had first arrived upon the scene turned to Leonie. - -"If you will come home with me," he said, "I will see that you have a -place to sleep to-night." - -"You are very kind, sir," she answered, "but I think I cannot go." - -"You do not mean that you will remain in that house alone?" - -But Leonie remembered the letters that she must secure that night if -ever, and replied bravely: - -"I shall not be afraid. There can be no danger now. Good-night, sir, -and thank you." - -She turned and left him, after taking his address, and once more -entered the house where her experiences had been so alarming. - -To a person of the strongest nerves the prospect was not a pleasant -one, but at least there was nothing to harm her now. - -With that consolation she entered the hall and closed the door behind -her. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -It was with no gentle touch that the officers led Ben Mauprat to the -station. - -They had almost reached it when, as they were turning a sudden corner, -they were met by a man--evidently a gentleman, from his dress and -appearance. - -An expression of gladness lighted Ben's features. - -"You, Mr. Kingsley!" he exclaimed. "May I have a word with you?" - -The gentleman, handsome in appearance as Apollo, paused. - -"What's the matter, Mauprat?" he asked. - -Then turning to the policemen: - -"Not a drunk and disorderly, is it?" - -"Worse than that, sir," answered the man who had performed the arrest. -"He tried to kill his wife and child. Shot at her in my presence." - -"Why, how was that, Ben? You see, the man is in my employ, and I am -naturally interested in him." - -"Will you come to the station house with us, sir, if there is anything -you wish to ask?" said one of them. "He has proven himself a dangerous -customer, as you can see by that cut over my eye, and I want to get him -locked up before I am forced to crack his skull." - -Luis Kingsley made a gesture of acquiescence, and silently followed the -lead of the officers. - -While the entry was being made, Mauprat spoke aside to Kingsley. - -"You had better bail me!" he said; "but failing in that, there is a -message that I want you to take now--to-night, sure! There must be no -mistake about that, for upon it more than you think depends. You must -go to Miss Evelyn Chandler, and tell her what has happened to me. You -must tell her that Liz and Leonie Cuyler are at my house alone, and -that--I am afraid something will happen to them." - -"Where is it that you live?" - -"She knows," replied Ben, curtly, "and she will understand what I mean. -Do you think that you can get me out to-night?" - -"The chances are that I cannot, particularly as you resisted arrest." - -"Well, don't let it be later than to-morrow. Be sure that you deliver -the message at once, for upon it depends more than I can tell you. You -promise?" - -"I do. Give me the address." - -It was given and jotted down in the Russia leather note-book that Luis -Kingsley carried, while Ben Mauprat was locked up. - -Mr. Kingsley made no very strenuous efforts to get bail accepted, but -left the station-house after ascertaining the exact charges upon which -Ben had been arrested. He lighted a cigar and walked leisurely down the -street. - -"Now, who is Miss Evelyn Chandler, and what in thunder did he want -me to deliver that absurd message to her for?" he asked of himself, -mentally. "Hanged if I know whether I ought to do it or not. If I only -knew where he lives, I don't think I should bother about notifying Miss -Chandler at all, but as I don't, and the chances very decidedly against -me finding out, I had better keep my promise. If Miss Chandler goes -there, I might follow her and thereby put myself in possession of the -papers with which that man has so often threatened me. Let me see. Why, -this is the address of Leonard Chandler, one of the wealthiest men in -the city. It can't be that this is his daughter to whom Ben Mauprat has -sent a message. It seems to me that there is the promise of something -sensational here. At all events it is worth following up. I most -decidedly shall keep my promise to Ben and call upon the young lady." - -There was no longer any hesitation on the part of the young man, but -hailing a passing hansom, he leaped in, gave the address, and went -rolling over the cobble-stones as rapidly as the bony horse could carry -him. - -He glanced up at the massive brown-stone front, before which he was -deposited, with considerable surprise. - -"What in the name of all that is wonderful could Ben Mauprat have to do -with a young woman living in a house like this?" he asked of himself. - -Then a smile flitted over his features. - -"She is one of the servants," he told himself. "The name is one of -those curious accidents with which one often meets. I wonder what the -people will think of me for presenting myself at their front door to -inquire for a servant? Well, if the worst comes I can excuse myself on -the plea of philanthropy. Ha! ha! that is something after the order of -the devil quoting Scripture!" - -He ran up the stoop and rang the bell loudly. - -"Is Miss Evelyn Chandler in?" he asked of the servant. - -"Yes, sir. Will you walk in?" - -He was ushered into the drawing-room, where the servant stood waiting -for his card. - -Kingsley put the idea out of his head that Miss Chandler was a servant, -and handed his card to the man. - -"Will you say to Miss Chandler that I am a messenger from another, and -that I should appreciate an immediate interview as a favor?" he said. -"Assure her that I will not detain her five minutes." - -The servant bowed and left him. Kingsley looked about him. - -"There is a mystery in this," he said to himself, "that I must solve. -What could that old drunken tramp have to do with people like these? -Evidently I must keep my wits about me." - -His soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of Miss Chandler. -Kingsley caught his breath hard at the vision of beauty she presented. - -She was clad in a gown of dead black, above which her bare shoulders -gleamed like marble. - -She came toward him swiftly, and he had scarcely recovered himself, -when she stood beside him. - -"To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit, Mr. Kingsley?" she -asked, referring to the card in her hand for the name. - -"I---- The fact is, I am placed in a most awkward position, Miss -Chandler!" he exclaimed, flushing furiously. "I was made the unwilling -messenger of a man who has gotten himself into trouble. He gave me a -message to deliver to Miss Evelyn Chandler, but you could not by any -possible chance be the lady, though this is the address he gave." - -"Perhaps you are not mistaken after all. There are a number of -unfortunate people in whom I am interested. If you would kindly give -me the name of the man I might be able to tell you whether the person -meant was myself!" - -"His name is Ben Mauprat, a thoroughly worthless fellow, but one in -whom I have been interested myself. He----" - -"I think the message is intended for me, sir!" interrupted Evelyn, -with perfect composure. "You say that Mauprat has gotten himself into -trouble?" - -"Yes; a trouble that is more serious than he thinks, perhaps. He is -charged with attempted murder!" - -"Indeed!" - -For all the coolness of her utterance a frightful pallor overspread the -face of the beautiful girl, that seemed to threaten unconsciousness. - -Kingsley took a step toward her as though to offer assistance, but she -recovered herself and smiled. - -"Those things are so dreadful for a lady to contemplate," he said, -deprecatingly. "I am sorry to have shocked you, Miss Chandler." - -"I beg that you will give it no consideration whatever. Do you know who -it was that he attempted to kill?" - -"His wife, I think." - -"I suppose so. Those men always do try to injure the ones who are most -necessary to them. And what message was it that he sent me?" - -"He requested me to say that Liz and Leonie Cuyler were at his house -alone, and that he was afraid that something would happen to them." - -Again the lovely face grew ghastly, but that never-failing control was -exerted successfully, and Miss Chandler laughed outright. - -"I suppose he wants me to go there to see that nothing shall befall -them, and that, too, after he has tried to take the life of poor Liz. -Is that not like one of those men? It was so kind of you, Mr. Kingsley, -to take all this trouble. I am very much obliged to you. It must really -be dreadful for those two poor women to be in that house alone under -the fearful circumstances." - -"It is nothing for me, I assure you. On the contrary, I shall be but -too happy if you will make any further use of me that you desire. I see -that you are dressed for a reception. If it would be of any service to -you, it would give me pleasure to go there in your place and remain -during the night if they should require my presence." - -"I don't know how to thank you, but I think I shall go myself for a -moment and perhaps bring them home. There is really nothing further -that you can do, but be assured that what you have done is most -thoroughly appreciated. Good-night." - -He was so evidently dismissed, that there was not the slightest excuse -for his remaining longer, and reluctantly he was compelled to take his -leave. - -Something in her manner, as she left him, seemed to attract him, for -the door had scarcely closed upon him, than he paused with a curious -expression upon his face. - -"How cleverly she avoided giving me that address!" he muttered. "Why -should she have turned so pale over the fact that Ben Mauprat was in -trouble? and how is it that a young lady in her sphere would allow a -man of Ben's stamp to call upon her so freely? As sure as fate there is -something wrong! I should like nothing better than to get that young -woman in my power, for I have not seen so pretty, so magnificent a -creature in many days. - -"At least, it can do no harm to watch, and, my pretty Evelyn, you do -not leave that house this evening without my knowing every foot of -ground you touch." - -With which commendable resolution, Luis Kingsley stationed himself upon -the opposite side of the street in the shadow, and took up his vigils. - -As Miss Chandler left the drawing-room she encountered her adoptive -father. - -"Are you really ready for once on time?" he asked. "I am glad of that, -as I have a special reason for wishing to be early." - -"You surely would not think of going yet? Why, there will be no one -there at all." - -"That is precisely the reason that I wish to go at once. Now, you know -perfectly well that there is nothing that puts me so thoroughly out of -humor as contradiction, so for Heaven's sake! leave it off for once and -come immediately! You will find that they are expecting us early, and -besides that, some one always has to be the first!" - -Seeing that Leonard Chandler was in no mood to stand opposition, Miss -Chandler uttered a sigh and ran lightly up the stairs. - -"What shall I do?" she asked of herself, when she was securely in her -own room. "Ben surely meant by his message that I was not to leave -those two alone there; but even should I go, what could I do against -them both? - -"Plainly there is but one course, and that is to go to the reception, -slip out when I return, and go to that house. - -"I don't know what Ben meant, but he certainly did not send me that -message for fun. I cannot see what he expected me to do! That is what -puzzles me! What in Heaven's name has ever made him such a fool? He -has risked everything, and perhaps lost me the stakes for which I have -ventured so much. Curse him! I knew he would do this sooner or later, -but there was no chance to act without him. - -"And now, to please that old fool down-stairs I have got to go to that -reception and smile and chatter while my thoughts are occupied with the -hideous danger that threatens me. - -"If I could but see Ben for five minutes and know how things stand! But -that is not even to be thought of! I am afraid of---- Heavens! I dare -not think what!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -It was not a pleasant contemplation, that of facing the dreary, -desolate house where her experiences of that evening had been so -frightful, and it was with a shiver of horror that Leonie turned from -the door which she had closed upon herself. - -She stood for a moment irresolutely, her womanly cowardice fighting -with her strong desire to gain possession of the papers that she -believed the house to contain, feeling that if she left it until the -morrow that the opportunity might be forever lost; yet it was a hard -fight. - -She was but a girl, weak of courage when she had time in which to think -of fear, and the occurrences of the evening were not calculated to -eradicate nervousness, yet with a determination that was singularly -strong, she put fear from her and walked up the stairs. - -All about her was in utter darkness, save for a ray of light that -seemed to creep disconsolately through the window by which she had made -her escape. - -She looked at it with a shudder, remembering the terrible tragedy that -had followed her exit through it, but not daring to give herself time -for reflection, she began a search for matches. - -She knew where the candle had stood at the time the pistol put it out, -and groping her way through the gloom she succeeded in finding it. - -There were a few matches upon the waiter of the holder. The pale gleam -cast a fitful glow over the room that was uncanny. By it the objects -appeared ghostly, and she drew back with a low cry of fright as her -foot struck the straw of which Dick's bed had been composed. - -She smiled at her own timidity when she saw what it really was, but her -courage was of that watery character that threatened to desert her at -each moment. - -She did not dare to even trust herself to the inactivity of waiting for -the break of day, but set about looking for the papers of which Liz had -spoken, and which she knew must exist somewhere. But where was she to -begin to look? She glanced about her helplessly. - -"I feel quite sure they are not in the secretary down-stairs!" she -muttered. "There was not a drawer in it locked, and surely Ben would -not leave things like that about carelessly. However, there was that -letter that I read, and which I still have. No, they were not there, or -I should have discovered at least some trace of them. Let me see!" - -Carefully she gazed about her, then realizing that she could hope for -nothing without making a beginning, she began a thorough investigation -of the premises, hampered by the scarcity of the light. - -Behind boxes, in closets, between the pictures and back of an old -chromo that adorned the wall, under everything that promised a place of -concealment, she looked, but all to no purpose. - -She was about to give it up in despair, when, as a last resort, she -tore the clothing from the bed upon which Dick had died. - -Between the mattress and the cords that were drawn across the bed in -lieu of either springs or slats, she saw an old tin box! - -With a cry of joy, she seized it. - -The box was locked, but after a delay that was most exasperating in her -excited state, Leonie succeeded in breaking the lock with a hammer. - -As the lid opened, she grasped the papers within, and seating herself -at a table, began looking over them eagerly. - -There were extracts from old, yellow newspapers, photographs that -seemed to be the relics of ages, and letters by the score. - -From the contents of the box, one would have thought the man possessed -of a mania for preserving such things, a thought in which Leonie would -have concurred before she had completed her self-imposed task. - -There were letters from confederates, letters from friends, letters -from his mother, a few from Liz, and underneath, as though those were -the things that he wanted to preserve most, she found another box of -paper. - -She opened it eagerly. - -Passing over the smaller papers, she opened a letter, addressed in the -stylish penmanship which she knew belonged to Miss Chandler. - -Breathlessly she read: - - "SIR,--I have just read your letter delivered by special messenger. - The surprise to me has been so painful that I scarcely know what I - ought to say; but if you will meet me to-night at the address that - I shall append, I will have thought the matter over. I understand - but too clearly your reason for coming forward to claim the child - whom you deserted in her infancy, because you know that now I am the - adopted daughter of a wealthy man who knows nothing of the disgrace - that the penitentiary attached to my parents, and you think that - I shall be only too willing to purchase your silence at any cost. - Perhaps you are right. We shall see. At all events, meet me as I have - indicated, and if you have any regard for your own child whatever, be - careful that this letter does not fall into the hands of any one. - - "Yours regretfully, - - "E. C." - -With a thrill of satisfaction Leonie laid the letter aside, apart from -the others that had been rejected, and took up another. - -A single paragraph from it read: - - "You have made me a thief. Were you not a fiend your conscience would - burn you to death for so foul a thing, but instead you are going to - force me into the cell of a convict, the same, perhaps, that held - both you and my mother. I am half inclined to believe that Leonard - Chandler already suspects me. Should he find his suspicions to be - true, there is nothing upon this earth that could save me. Your - revenue would cease. I know that it would be useless to plead with - your sympathy for me, but for your own sake let your demands at least - be within reason." - -Then again: - - "Your suggestion about Lynde Pyne is a stroke of genius. With several - millions at his command he will be worthy of the hand of your - illustrious daughter. Keep hold of the will and trust the rest to me." - -Scarcely able to control her excitement, Leonie read the letters -through. - -"Surely that will be enough!" she exclaimed, her expression almost -fierce. "I will take copies of these, I will show them to her, assuring -her that the originals are in my possession, then surely she will not -still refuse to abandon her plan of marrying Lynde Pyne. I can then -place the will where the rightful heir can be restored and--go away." - -The last words were scarcely more than a sob, but she resolutely closed -her throat upon it, and turned to her work. - -She began to look over them promiscuously. - -First came several that amounted to nothing as far as she was -concerned, then followed some smaller ones. The yellow one that she had -in her hand was read twice. - -It was the marriage certificate between Elizabeth Johnson and Benjamin -Mauprat, dated thirty-two years before. - -There was another one of the marriage of Eleanor Cuyler and Benjamin -Mauprat dated between seven and eight years later, but across the face -of it was written in Ben's own ungainly scrawl the words in red ink: - - "An experiment in bigamy. For the edification of my daughter Evelyn. - To be presented after my death, or immediately before." - -There was a copy of the certificate of the birth of Evelyn Mauprat, and -also another copy that was perhaps of more interest than all to Leonie. - -It was the one of her own birth--"Leonie Pyne, daughter of Roger and -Eleanor Pyne!" - -How her heart beat as she read the words, knowing that she was a -legitimate child! - -After a long look she put it aside, and turned her attention entirely -to looking for the will. - -She found it at last at the bottom of the box, wrapped in a piece of -tissue paper, and opening it began to read: - - "Know ye all men by these presents, that----" - -Then unable, through feminine curiosity, to wait further, she looked at -the signature. It was clear enough, and duly witnessed: "Roger Pyne." - -She could scarcely control her excitement as she read it. - -Roger Pyne! - -And Roger Pyne was her father! - -She sat for some time with the will in her hand, unable to see the -letters because of her trembling; then by a tremendous effort she -controlled herself, and read it through to the end. - -It stated clearly and concisely that all other wills made by him were -revoked, and that he had discovered the reports brought to him by his -nephew, Luis Kingsley, about Lynde Pyne to be utterly and entirely -false, and that in consideration of the evil character which it showed -the said Luis Kingsley to possess, he desired that it should be known -that he made Lynde Pyne heir to all his estates, real and personal, -cutting Luis Kingsley off with the proverbial dollar. - -Then after it had been read and re-read, the will dropped into the -girl's lap, and her eyes gazed dreamily from the window. - -It was her father who had made that will, her father who had died -believing that the woman he had made his wife was a bigamist. - -Her father who had died in ignorance even of her birth. - -She knew enough of law to know that all she would be required to -do would be to produce that marriage certificate that was in her -possession, together with the record of her birth, to break that will, -having all those millions come to her; but the thought brought her no -pleasure. - -Even if she had desired to take from Lynde Pyne what his uncle had -given him, she would be forced to make public her mother's disgrace -in order to do that, and not all the money in the universe could have -tempted her to even consider it. - -Her duty was clear enough. - -She must face Evelyn Chandler with the proofs in her possession; she -must know beyond a doubt that the engagement between her and Lynde Pyne -was broken, she must restore the will to the one most interested and -then---- - -Her work would be accomplished, and for the sake of her mother's memory -she must go away where the secret could be preserved. - -It was not a pleasant prospect; and now that she felt her mission was -about at an end, the desolation and loneliness of her position struck -her with greater force than it ever had since that morning when she -knew that her single friend had left her forever. - -There, in her hands, were all the proofs that she needed; and as the -thought came that there was no longer a necessity for bravery, a long, -deep sob seemed to come straight from her heart. She bowed her head and -sobbed. - -But in the midst of her yielding to grief, a sudden sound attracted -her, there in that silent house, where it seemed that even the noise of -a mouse would sound deafening. - -She straightened herself suddenly, and clasping her hands above her -heart, listened. - -There could be no mistake about it! - -It was a footstep, clear and distinct, coming stealthily up the -uncarpeted stairs. - -For a moment her heart seemed to stand still; then, springing up, she -dashed to the door. - -Quivering with fright, she undertook to fasten it and bar it against -entrance; but before she could succeed, a veiled figure, spectral under -the light of the pale candle, stood before her, preventing the action. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -For some moments it seemed to Leonie as though the figure that stood -before her could be nothing human. - -The very blood seemed to freeze in her veins. A pallor that had the -appearance of death crept over her face, and a trembling seized her -that seemed to shake her in every limb. - -But it was only for a moment. - -The veiled woman stepped forward and uncovered her face. - -"You!" gasped Leonie. "How came you here at this hour, and what do you -want?" - -"I came by way of the street-door, and I want to see Liz!" answered -Evelyn Chandler, coolly. "Where is she?" - -"She was taken to the hospital more than an hour ago." - -"And you were here alone?" - -"I was until you came!" - -With nervous irritation Miss Chandler threw her eye over the apartment. - -It rested upon the chair whereon Leonie had left the box with the -papers scattered about, some having fallen upon the floor, others lay -on the side of the bed where Dick had died. - -With a low cry, Miss Chandler sprung toward them. - -"And in the absence of the members of the family, you have been -plundering the papers!" she exclaimed, her alarm causing a hoarseness -that made her voice sound uncanny. - -Before she could reach the chair, Leonie had recovered her powers of -action and thought. She flung herself between Miss Chandler and the -chair, barring her progress. - -"Yes," she cried excitedly, "if you choose to put it so, I have been -plundering in the absence of the family! Do you know what I have -discovered? That you are even a viler woman than I gave you credit for -being. That you have lied to me, and that you have rendered further -concealment on my part a sacrifice that I decline to make. - -"You knew that the words you said to me the night that I discovered -you to be a thief, robbing the man who had been a father to you, were -utterly false from beginning to end, and yet you tried to break my -heart without a revulsion of conscience. - -"Now listen to me, Evelyn Chandler, for it is I who dictate terms this -time, and you who must abide by them or take the consequences. I have -every proof in my possession that makes me mistress of the situation. I -want the engagement between you and Lynde Pyne broken without delay. I -want him restored to his rights as the heir of Roger Pyne, and I want -you to make good the last cent of the money that you took from Leonard -Chandler to buy the silence of your own father!" - -A smile that was cruel in its irony played over the face of Miss -Chandler as she calmly listened to the girl's words. - -"Are you mad?" she asked coldly, "or do you think I am an idiot? It -seems that you have thrust yourself into the secrets that were never -intended for you to know, but since you have done so, it is useless for -me to deny that Lynde Pyne is the rightful heir and----" - -"No, he is not! That is only part of your scheme to deceive me, but -I tell you that I know the story in its entirety. I, Leonie Pyne, am -the rightful heir to that fortune which I have no intention of ever -claiming. I have my mother's marriage certificate." - -"But she was a wife already, and----" - -"You are either deceived yourself, or else purposely endeavoring to -mislead me. Lena Cuyler's marriage to Ben Mauprat was not legal, as -he had a living wife from whom he was not divorced at the time of -his mock marriage to my mother. That marriage annulled, perfectly -legalizes her subsequent union with Roger Pyne and establishes my -birth as legitimate. Therefore I am the rightful heir. Your birth, you -see, is the one upon which the unfortunate cloud rests that makes you -even possess no right to the name your convict father wears. Now the -question is, are you ready to resign Lynde Pyne without publicity being -given to these matters, or must Leonard Chandler and the world come -in possession of a knowledge that I desire to conceal for my mother's -sake? I wish to impress upon you before you answer, that there is no -romantic feeling of wishing to spare a sister in my offer to repress -the truth or a portion of it; it is only my dead mother. Now, what have -you to say?" - -For some moments a cold, dull gray had overspread Miss Chandler's face. -A wild horror had come into her eyes, but gradually she had controlled -it. - -To be the daughter of a convict was bad enough surely, but to be his -nameless child was a disgrace of which she had really never dreamed. - -Still, revulsion at the contemplation of disgrace had never distressed -her much, and she recovered from the feeling quickly. - -She determined not to lose the position of wealth and luxurious ease -that she then held without a desperate struggle, and she was perfectly -aware that to lose Lynde Pyne meant more to her than one would readily -suppose. - -With all her heart she longed to strangle Leonie, but controlling her -venom, she said, almost humbly: - -"I don't think you can realize how you have surprised me. I cannot -think yet that what you have said can be true. Prove it to me and I -will do what you say. Let me go over those papers with you. Let me see -the truth for myself." - -Leonie laughed. - -There in the stillness of the night it rung out with a little metallic -sound that was chilling. She shivered as it ceased. - -"I am afraid I could not trust you so far!" she exclaimed, coldly. -"A woman who would dare so much as you have already done will bear -watching. You will excuse me and take my word for it. I know!" - -"Why should I do that? Why should I take your word any more than you -should mine?" - -"Because I have never deceived you in anything. Because I have been -perfectly frank and open always. It is utterly useless, Evelyn. You can -obtain absolutely nothing from me in that way. I have been deceived too -often to allow you to do it again. These papers are in my possession -now, and there is no power that could tempt me to part with them. I -will not ask you to make your decision to-night, but I shall take the -liberty of calling upon you at your own house to-morrow when you can -give me your answer. And now I shall be grateful if you will let me -alone." - -Miss Chandler drew herself up coldly, her arms folded upon her breast. - -"You have had your opportunity to speak uninterruptedly, now do me the -favor to listen to me," she said, slowly. "I may tell you that I do -not in the least doubt the truth of what you have said, but I shall go -further. The very fact of not doubting makes me all the more determined -that nothing shall prevent me from securing those papers, not even -murder! Do you hear me? You know that I did not pause at theft, and I -tell you that I shall take the risk for what it promises. There is not -a human soul that knows I came here to-night. What proof, therefore, -would there be against me? If you will give up those papers willingly, -I will divide with you the fortune that I shall receive through being -the wife of Lynde Pyne. If you refuse I will have them, cost what they -may!" - -There was not the slightest doubt in Leonie's mind that Miss Chandler -meant what she said. - -She threw a quick glance about her to see where the pistol she had -dropped was, and also to locate the knife which she knew Liz had. - -She saw the revolver immediately. It lay directly behind Miss Chandler -upon the floor. - -In order to get it she would be forced to leave the papers she was -guarding unprotected, and possibly not even then could she reach it. - -The knife she saw, with a shiver of terror, was upon a table not a foot -from Miss Chandler's hand, and, as though attracted by the direction of -Leonie's eye Miss Chandler turned hers in that direction. - -She smiled, seeming to comprehend the thought that had flashed through -Leonie's brain, put out her hand calmly and grasped it by the handle. - -Then she looked at her sister with cold determination. - -Seeing that immediate action was imperative, Leonie seized the papers -that she had put aside and thrust them into the bosom of the shirt she -wore. - -Fortunately, in imitating the dress of the poorer classes, she had put -on a shirt without a linen bosom, but one that opened down the front. - -She buttoned it quickly, then faced her companion resolutely. - -"If this is to be a fight for possession," she said, coolly, "it might -be fair for me to point out to you my superior advantages. It is true -that you have that knife in your hand, but you have nothing like the -strength that I have, and my dress will be of the greatest possible -benefit to me. I warn you that it will be only with my life that I will -resign the papers that are more to me than all the world. Do you still -intend to contend for their possession?" - -"Your question is not worthy of an answer. You know that in your bosom -you hold more than life to me--you hold happiness and honor. For the -last time I ask you to give them up! I do not intend to purchase them, -but I mean to take them by force if you still refuse. What is your -answer? Make it for the last time, and quickly!" - -The two women, both desperate, faced each other with a resolve that -meant life or death. - -There was not the slightest evidence of weakness or fear in either, but -a cold determination that was horrible. - -There was the undoubted resemblance of sisterhood between them as they -stood apparently revolving their plans of action. - -Leonie knew full well that there was not the slightest chance for her. - -That the moment she made an effort to pass that motionless, rigid form -that blocked her passage to the doorway, the long, sharp knife that Liz -had bought to protect her child would be plunged to the hilt in her -body. - -She had no wish to die that way, and still less to place the papers -that she held in Miss Chandler's hands. - -It was not a pleasant contemplation. She listened for an instant. - -There was not a sound in the street. - -She knew that she could not hope for assistance from that quarter. - -The rope by which she had made her escape before was out the window, -and to trust to it without having it tied about her body was a most -forlorn hope. - -There was but one possible way, and that she seized upon with a -suddenness that threw Miss Chandler entirely off her guard. - -She turned and blew out the candle. - -Miss Chandler knew nothing of the situation of the articles of -furniture in the room, and the darkness was intense. - -Before her sister's eyes had time to become accustomed to the absence -of light, Leonie circled about her and reached the door. - -She knew that if she could but succeed in making the street, that her -safety would be assured, and having so much the start of her pursuer, -she did not doubt her ability to do so. - -With a savage cry Miss Chandler started after, but Leonie's advantage -was too great to be denied. - -Miss Chandler was about to give up in despair, when a sharp, agonized -cry from the dark hall almost froze her blood. - -She hurried down the steps and groped about in the gloom until her hand -came in contact with something, she scarcely knew what. - -She shrunk back with a start of terror. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -With all her frail strength, Leonie was struggling in the grasp of a -person who held her with the strength of a giant. - -The excitement of the entire day had been too much for her and -unconsciousness was threatened, but by a mighty effort she overcame -it, knowing too well that upon the perfect retention of her faculties, -everything depended. - -"Let me go!" she cried struggling to free herself. "Let me go!" - -"Tell me first where you were going in such hot haste at this hour in -the morning and why?" demanded the stranger. "I claim that you are a -thief." - -"Then have me arrested," exclaimed Leonie, "but do not detain me here!" - -"You seem too willing. I must understand the cause of all this before -I do anything. Now act like a sensible boy and tell me where you were -going and why?" - -Leonie only continued to struggle. - -Holding her with one hand in a grasp like iron the stranger took a -match-safe from his pocket, and holding it between his teeth while he -selected one, he struck it and lighted the gas in the hall. - -Miss Chandler uttered a low cry and fell back. She had recognized Luis -Kingsley. - -His eyes met hers in a look of affected surprise. - -"You, Miss Chandler!" he exclaimed. "This is indeed an unexpected -encounter. Was this little vagrant trying to rob you?" - -Miss Chandler was utterly at a loss what reply to make. She had almost -as soon have had that will in the possession of Leonie Cuyler as of -Luis Kingsley, and a chill of horror seemed to seal her lips. - -A silence that was painful settled upon them. - -Leonie could not exactly comprehend the situation, but she could see -that Miss Chandler was not anxious to have the man know the secret that -she was endeavoring to conceal, and Evelyn was striving to determine -how much he had heard of the conversation that had taken place -up-stairs. - -Leonie had determined that she would tell him the truth, as he appeared -a gentleman; and seeming to read something of her determination, Evelyn -Chandler forced herself to speak. - -"How came you here at this hour, Mr. Kingsley?" she asked coldly. - -Leonie started perceptibly. The name told her all that Evelyn wished -her to know. - -"I might put the same question to you with effect, Miss Chandler," he -returned. - -"I came by the desire of Ben Mauprat, as you know. A man whose wife I -have befriended more than once. My presence here is therefore not to be -questioned; but yours seems singularly like unwarranted interference." - -"Your words are curious, coming to one who entered to protect what he -believed to be a woman in distress. May I inquire who this boy is? And -why there seemed to be a quarrel--if not a fight--going on between -you? My dear Miss Chandler, a young lady in society may have the right -to go from one reception to another between three and four o'clock in -the morning, but they are not so charitably inclined that they make -disinterested visits at this hour. I confess that my curiosity is -aroused. Where is the wife of Ben Mauprat? Who is this boy? Why are you -here? And why was he endeavoring to escape you? I readily acknowledge -that I may not have the right to ask you these questions, but situated -as we are, I not only do ask them, but I demand that you answer." - -"And if I refuse----" - -"Then I shall take the trouble to discover for myself." - -"Very well, then. I shall answer them. In the first place, the wife -of Ben Mauprat is ill and has been taken to the hospital. The boy is -Ben Mauprat's son. I was here at the request of Ben Mauprat to know if -there were not something that I could do for the family in whom I have -long been deeply interested. He was endeavoring to escape me because I -wished to turn him over to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty -to Children to be taken care of. Even if Ben should be released from -the position in which he is now placed, he is not a proper guardian -for that boy, but the boy did not wish to do as I said. Now, is that -satisfactory?" - -"And you were demanding obedience to your will at the point of a knife. -Was that it, Miss Chandler?" asked Kingsley, coolly ignoring her -question. - -She glanced down. - -In her hand she still held the knife that she had taken from the table, -and which, in her excitement, she had forgotten. - -Her face became crimson. She could find no answer, and with a short -laugh Kingsley turned to Leonie. - -"What have you to say?" he demanded. - -"Nothing!" she answered. "I deny your right to detain me here, and I -command you to release me!" - -"Spoken like a true son of Ben Mauprat!" exclaimed Kingsley, -ironically. "It may not come amiss for me to remind you, Miss Chandler, -nor you, Master Mauprat, that I have never been taken for a fool, and -even if I had, there is no reason to believe that I am one. I have -never gone prowling round in the dead of night without an object; -therefore, following my usual example, I did not come here without one. -I know that there is a mystery afloat. I have scented it, and I am -determined to fathom it. I do not believe that you two are interested -in it alone. I intend to search this house, after I have first made an -examination of this boy to see what he has concealed upon his person -with which he wished to escape, and which you were determined to -prevent at the risk of murder." - -He looked from Leonie to Evelyn, and from Evelyn back to Leonie, but -neither spoke. - -Both were endeavoring to think of some plan of action, and one seemed -to be as uninventive as the other. - -Had there been a desire upon Miss Chandler's part to act in unison with -her sister, they might readily have thwarted Luis Kingsley, but there -was little more desire in her heart to have Leonie in possession of the -papers than Kingsley. - -One promised as little to her as the other. - -She lifted her head, and looked defiantly at the man. - -"You have expressed your determination," she said, coldly, "now listen -to mine. I propose that you shall leave this house, and I intend -that you shall do it without accomplishing the design that you have -intended. The question is, will you do it peaceably or not?" - -Kingsley looked at her in absolute amazement. - -She saw that it was a desperate case, and desperate cases required -heroic handling, but he was unprepared for the amount of spirit that -she displayed in a woman. - -There was something like admiration in the glance that he bent upon her. - -"Whether I do or not you deserve credit for your bravery!" he answered, -slowly. "I do admire it! Upon my soul I do! Let me tell you something, -Miss Chandler! Whatever you may say to the contrary, I am fully -convinced that you did not come here this night for motives of charity -alone, and I am further convinced that the reason that you gave for -your unpleasantness with this boy was--pardon me--not the truth. But -for all that, there is something about you that appeals to me strongly. -I don't want to be your enemy! I don't want to do anything that will -in any way injure you, but there are reasons why I am just as much -interested in the contents of this house as you can be; therefore if -you will take me into your confidence and trust me, there is no reason -why we should not work together and benefit each other. A woman of your -standing and wealth does not interest herself in a man like Ben Mauprat -for nothing. Come, now! Is this to be a sort of partnership between us, -or are you determined that I shall find out all for myself, to your -detriment, perhaps?" - -Leonie breathlessly awaited the answer. She felt that upon it depended -her chance of escape with the papers, and so of saving Lynde Pyne. - -It came at last! - -Miss Chandler looked at him without flinching, and replied: - -"There is no reason why I should make any bargain with you, sir. I -command you to leave the house! In the event of your refusing to do so, -I have in my possession a revolver which I shall not hesitate to use. -I have not wished to threaten, but you have forced it upon me. Do not -think that I shall fear, for this is that boy's home, and he has the -right to protect it from entrance of burglars who break in in the dead -of the night. He will be the single witness in the case, and I think I -shall have nothing to fear from him. Now once more, will you go?" - -"Now less than ever! You have firmly convinced me that there is -something, even more than I thought, at the bottom of all this, and I -am determined to discover it. Now, my dainty one!" - -With a suddenness that lost Leonie her footing, he dropped his hold of -her, and sprung toward Miss Chandler, catching her about the waist and -pinioning her arms. With the ease of an athlete he turned her around, -and wrenching the knife from her hand, threw it upon the floor. - -Leonie had secured it within the twinkling of an eye, and with it she -sprung toward the door. - -But Kingsley had not left the rear unguarded in any such manner as -that. She fell back with a little gasp of terror. - -It was locked! - -As soon as she could recover from her disappointment she turned and -looked at Evelyn and Kingsley. - -He had pushed her backward upon the stairs, and holding her with one -hand and his knee succeeded in finding the revolver of which she had -spoken. - -Without the quiver of a muscle he calmly pocketed it, and released her -from her uncomfortable position. - -"I am sorry that you forced me to treat you so roughly," he said -mildly. "There is nothing more annoying than to be compelled to use -one's strength against a woman. There is so little of manhood in it, -and yet one cannot always help it. Now, Master Mauprat, that you have -seen there is no possibility of escape, are you ready to stand and -deliver?" - -There was something almost genial in his manner of saying it, and but -for her knowledge that he was an utter scoundrel, Leonie could almost -have liked him. - -Yet she did not think much of that at the moment. Her mind was centered -upon how she was to get away with those papers, a thing that began to -appear to the last degree hopeless. - -Then suddenly an idea struck her. - -She realized how impossible it was for her to cope with him physically, -for she would be less than a feather in his hand, and she saw that if -she was to save Lynde Pyne she must give up the idea of sparing Evelyn -Chandler. - -She saw her way if she could but prevent Luis Kingsley from seeing the -certificate of her mother's marriage with his uncle. - -With a deprecating gesture she turned the handle of the knife toward -him, as the vanquished do in battle when acknowledging themselves -defeated. - -He smiled as he took it, not endeavoring to conceal his surprise. - -"You have not offered to compromise with me, Mr. Kingsley," she said -coolly, "but I am open to a consideration of that kind if you see fit -to make it. No, further than that, I will make the offer, if you are -prepared to listen." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -Before Kingsley had an opportunity to reply, Miss Chandler had sprung -by him and had caught Leonie's hand in an iron grasp. - -"You must be mad!" she whispered hoarsely. "Think what you are doing! -You lose every possible hope! There is no doubt but what we can escape -if you will only help me. For God's sake keep your wits about you and -do the thing you contemplate only when you are overpowered and forced -to yield." - -But Leonie had no idea of considering any such advice. - -She perfectly realized there was not the shadow of a hope for them, and -she wanted to preserve that marriage certificate. - -She understood that it was but the copy of a record, and that she could -prove her words without it; but it was the greatest saving of valuable -time to keep what she had. - -Besides, she had not looked at the name of the clergyman nor the -witnesses, and they might be very hard to find. - -Kingsley made no move whatever to intercept Miss Chandler. - -He knew his power, and he allowed her, without interference, to talk to -her companion as much as she chose, though every word that she uttered -could be distinctly heard by him. - -With a slow smile, though she was far from feeling in any degree -mirthful, Leonie turned in his direction. - -"Are you prepared to answer my question?" she asked calmly. - -"I am," he replied. "You shall have ample time to say anything that you -wish. Will you proceed at once?" - -"By doing that you will lose everything," gasped Miss Chandler. - -The smile on Leonie's face only deepened. - -"You must remember that there is honor among thieves, Mr. Luis -Kingsley," she began, "and the promise that you shall make me before -you hear my secret must be kept to the letter. Do you agree?" - -"I agree to abide by whatever promise I make. You may be sure of that. -But the question is, whether I shall make the promise or not." - -"I think you will. It can make no possible difference to you who I am, -nor how I came by my information, but I have come into possession of a -secret of yours which I am willing to sell for my liberty. I will tell -you in the first place that the reason why I do not wish you to search -me is that I am not the boy that you suppose, but a woman." - -"This is growing interesting. Go on!" - -"Well, sir, several years ago you had an uncle of great wealth." - -"Leonie, for God's sake----" - -Miss Chandler had interrupted, but Leonie talked on as though unaware -of it. - -"He was fond of a cousin of yours, but not of you. The cousin's name -was Lynde Pyne. He had been brought up to look upon himself as your -uncle's heir, a fact of which you were unable to see the justice. You -were determined that such should not be the case. You, therefore, went -systematically to work to alienate the affection of your uncle from his -favorite nephew, pouring into his ears a tale of the treachery of Lynde -Pyne that finally had the desired effect--that of causing your uncle to -make a new will, leaving to you the bulk of his fortune." - -"It seems to me that for a young woman whom I never saw before in my -life, you are wonderfully well acquainted with my affairs." - -"Poor girls need money as well as other people, and some of us have -learned from men that the easiest way to obtain it, is often to -discover the private affairs of men of millions like yourself, and -trade upon the knowledge that we have gained." - -"And how do you propose to handle this?" - -"That is just what I am going to tell you." - -She turned for a moment and looked at her sister. She was standing with -her back leaning against the door, her face deadly white, her eyes -glaring like those of an animal. - -It was a desperate case with her, but there seemed absolutely nothing -that she could do to avert the terrible danger that threatened her. - -A weakness came over Leonie, the weakness that is engendered by human -sympathy for a person in distress, but then a consideration of all that -Miss Chandler had done against her wiped it out, and she turned her -eyes in the direction of Kingsley with a little shudder of horror. - -She resolutely forced herself not to glance again toward the shrinking -woman. - -"Go on, please," exclaimed Kingsley, a trifle nervously. - -"You asked me, I think, how I proposed to handle this," returned -Leonie. "Well, I have not quite reached that point yet. You know -sometimes a trade falls through, and the larger the transaction the -greater the danger attending it. Now, Mr. Kingsley, fortunately for -your cousin, but most unfortunately for you, the stories told by you -about Lynde Pyne to your uncle were discovered by him to be false while -there was yet time remaining to him to make a new will. That will was -made!" - -"You are sure?" - -"I have read it myself. You are cut out without a dollar, while the -entire fortune is given to Mr. Pyne without reservation. What I propose -is to deliver that will over to you, if you will release me from this -place without trying to in any way molest me, or attempting to search -me." - -"You have the will?" - -"I decline to answer that question, but I know where it is, and I will -put you in possession of it when I have your assurance that you will -do as I have demanded. So far as the other papers are concerned, they -relate to the birth of a person, which cannot concern you, but in which -I am interested as I was in the securing of that will. You understand -me, I think, without further explanation." - -She intended him to believe that she wanted to extract money from Miss -Chandler, and he fell into the trap easily enough. - -"I am willing," she continued, "to give up the papers that concern -you if you will allow me to retain the others that are in my keeping -without interference." - -He smiled curiously. - -"I accept the terms," he said, slowly. "I think Miss Chandler's -presence here places her as much in my power as I care to have her, and -I am not at all desirous of securing her money, therefore I agree to -your terms." - -Evelyn Chandler started forward, her ashen face more pallid than ever. - -"You will eternally regret it if you do!" she gasped, hoarsely. "Do you -know what the papers are that she wishes to conceal? Do you know who -she is?" - -"The key to this door!" cried Leonie, excitedly. "Throw it to me and -the will is yours!" - -"Listen to me, now!" gasped Miss Chandler. "I swear----" - -"Here is the will!" interrupted Leonie. "The key--quick! There is a -man in front of the house. If you hesitate I shall break the glass and -pitch it through if you kill me!" - -"Hear me!" panted Miss Chandler, catching Kingsley by the lapel of the -coat and holding him frantically. - -It but impeded his progress as he would have sprung toward Leonie; and -seeing that she would not hesitate a moment to accomplish the purpose -that she had assured him she would, he took the key from his pocket and -flung it toward her. - -Knowing that he would catch her if she made any attempt to escape with -the will, she threw it down, unlocked the door, and sped away down the -street like the wind. - -The man of whom she had spoken as being across the street was a myth, -but it had seemed to put an idea into her head that strangely enough -had not occurred to her before. - -Not even pausing to take breath, she ran along under the gray of the -awakening morning, her mouth parched and dry, her tongue seeming to -cleave to the roof of her mouth. - -About three blocks away she found a policeman. Excitedly she caught his -arm. - -"Quick!" she gasped. "A moment's delay, and you will be too late! He -may have escaped now! There are millions of money depending upon it. -Quick!" - -Something of her excitement seemed to communicate itself to the tired -man. He set into a run with her, and with an evidence of surprise, -stopped before the residence of Ben Mauprat, where the door was already -open, and in which he could see the shadowy figures of a man and woman. - -With the officer, Leonie sprung up the steps. - -"Arrest that man!" she gasped, pointing dramatically toward Luis -Kingsley. "He has a will in his possession that has been suppressed for -years!" - -"Arrest that woman, who is masquerading in the clothes of a man!" -exclaimed Kingsley angrily, seeing that he had fallen into a trap. - -Miss Chandler had sunk back helplessly. The officer glanced hastily -from one to the other. - -"I think I had better take you all in!" he said. "That seems to be the -safe plan. Come, now, and no foolishness!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -Placing the three before him, and compelling them to lock arms, the -officer was about to take up the line of march, when something in the -back pocket of the man's trousers attracted him, the coat being lifted -a trifle over it. - -He thrust his hand forward and pulled the pistol from it that Kingsley -had taken from Miss Chandler. - -It was the single hope that the man had retained of release, and a low -oath fell from his lips as he realized that it was gone. - -"I owe this to you!" he exclaimed to Leonie. "You shall see how well -I know how to liquidate my debts. Is this the honor that you claimed -should be among thieves? I kept my word and you betrayed me; you shall -pay for it with interest." - -"Stop your threats and go along quietly, or I'll quiet you," cried -the officer, lifting his club threateningly. "You are a nice party -altogether, you are." - -The sergeant's eyes were opened to their widest as the gentleman of -elegant appearance, and the lady in the costume of a reception, entered -his precinct. - -"What are this lady and gentleman arrested for?" he inquired sternly of -the officer. - -"Absolutely without reason!" exclaimed Kingsley, attempting bravado. -"We were out on a little mission of charity in connection with a family -that has had a terrible affliction befall them to-night, when the -officer arrested us. It is an outrage!" - -"What have you to say, officer?" - -"Only this, sir: I was on my beat when this boy came running up to me -out of breath and demanded that I go with him to arrest these parties. -I went to see what was wrong, and I found these people under suspicious -circumstances. The boy claimed that the man had a will concealed upon -him that had been hidden for years, and the man claimed that the boy -was a girl in disguise. The house that they were visiting to perform -a charity was the one belonging to Ben Mauprat, who was arrested -to-night, and whose wife jumped out the window later with her child in -her arms, so that there was nobody in the house for them to have gone -there to see." - -The sergeant looked dubious, then after a moment of hesitation, he -decided to "hold them for examination!" - -It was with perhaps the greatest amount of relief that she had ever -felt in her life that Leonie saw the two conducted to their respective -cells, though she knew that she must follow. - -As she was leaving the room, she lifted her eyes pleadingly to those of -the sergeant and exclaimed: - -"There is no chance of his escaping with that will, is there? It would -place in his possession a large sum of money that rightfully belongs to -another." - -"That will, if one exists, will be deposited with me inside of fifteen -minutes!" he answered. - -It had been a night that was to be long remembered by Leonie. - -She was thoroughly exhausted in mind and body, and feeling mentally -at rest at last in her cramped apartment, she stretched herself out -wearily upon the hard bench that was the only bed offered, and was soon -sound asleep. - -There was a vague wonderment as to what had happened to Liz, and what -she was to do when all the facts that surrounded her had been made -public; but she was too tired for anything under heaven to disturb her, -and after a moment of wakeful dreaming she was in the land of Nod! - - * * * * * - -"You have heard nothing yet from Neil Lowell?" - -The question was addressed by Lynde Pyne to Andrew Pryor as the two -men shook hands on the morning after the event just narrated had taken -place. - -"I was about to put the same question to you," returned the elder -man. "I am losing hope. I wonder what could have happened to the boy? -I have given his description to every police station in the city; I -have private detectives at work, I have done everything that lies in -my power, but all to no purpose! The matter is shrouded in as great a -mystery as it was at the beginning. I am about coming to the conclusion -that he has been foully dealt with!" - -Pyne started. - -"How is that possible?" he asked, half unconscious of having spoken. - -"How is it possible!" cried Mr. Pryor with annoyance. "How are half the -horrible things that you read of daily in the papers possible? I don't -know, but one never can tell what may happen, nor what has happened. I -have had the most flaming advertisements in the papers, asking him if -he were safe to at least let me know. Lowell was a great reader of the -papers, and if he had seen it he would surely have answered in some -way. He has never seen it, and he has not because--he is dead!" - -Pyne's hand came down upon a glass, knocking it to the floor with an -awful crash. - -His face was ghastly. - -"Have you any reason for thinking that?" he demanded so hoarsely that -Pryor's attention was attracted from his concern about Leonie to his -friend. - -"No, no!" he answered. "Why, what is it, Pyne? You were not acquainted -with Lowell, were you? I did not know that you had ever met him more -than once." - -"You are quite right! It is only the horror with which those things -naturally affect me. I can never regard such things, even in -imagination, without feeling faint." - -"In your profession I should think you would have overcome such things -entirely!" - -"One would think so, but it does not seem to have been the case with -me. I do not believe that I shall ever recover from it. My cousin was -to go to Miss Chandler's to begin her visit there to-day, was she not?" - -"I think so; but not until this afternoon. Do you want to see her?" - -"If you please. Will you kindly send for her to come here?" - -Andrew Pryor was about to put his hand upon the bell to ring, when the -door was suddenly thrown open, and Miss Pyne, with Miss Pryor, entered. - -The former held a newspaper in her hand, and both seemed excited to the -last degree. They paused, however, upon seeing Lynde. - -"What is it?" he demanded, as neither of them even greeted him. "There -was something that you wished to say, and you have hesitated because I -am here. Can you not tell me, Edith, unless your news is a secret? The -papers do not usually contain secrets that the world may not share, -and from your manner I should say that it is something that you have -learned from them." - -"You are quite right, Lynde," she answered, laying her hand -affectionately upon his shoulder. "I did learn my news from the papers, -but it is something that will hurt you most seriously. So much so that -I am afraid to tell you. But of course there can be no truth in it. You -must take consolation in that, dear." - -He had grown ghastly again. He endeavored to speak, but the horror that -was upon him seemed to paralyze utterance. - -He took the paper from her, and in silence she pointed to the article -that had caused her such consternation. - -The headlines were sensational, describing as they did the arrest of -Miss Evelyn Chandler, the daughter of one of the wealthiest citizens of -the metropolis, in company with Luis Kingsley, of Wall Street fame, in -a disreputable place. - -Edith Pyne had read no further than that; but calling the attention of -Miss Pryor to it, they had hurried with it to Mr. Pryor's study. - -The paper dropped from Lynde's hand and fluttered to the floor. - -He seemed to understand that some dreadful thing had happened, that -there could be no mistake, and though Leonie's name was not mentioned -in those first lines, he seemed to know intuitively that they related -to her. - -He sat down in a chair very suddenly, and Edith kneeled beside him. - -"You must not take those horrible words as literally true," she -exclaimed, gently. "You know so well how many mistakes these papers -make. Do not look like that, Lynde! You frighten me!" - -"Do not distress yourself about me, dear," he said, gently. "There is -nothing wrong. Read the article to me, please. I do not seem able to -see quite distinctly." - -Still kneeling there beside him, she read it to the end. About the -arrest in the deserted house of Ben Mauprat, about the sensational -demand of the boy for the arrest of the man with the will, of the -counter-charge of disguised sex made by the man, of the march to the -station-house, of the costumes of the party, of how the "boy" had given -his name as Leonie Cuyler Pyne---- - -Suddenly Miss Pyne's face was lifted, ghastly as Lynde's own. - -"What does that mean?" she demanded, huskily. - -"Never mind. Read on!" he commanded, hoarsely. - -Then the papers found were described and copied, the will acting as a -kind of supplement. - -There was not a word spoken in that room for the space of five minutes -when the reading had ceased. - -Mr. Pryor was the first to break the stillness that had grown uncanny. - -"Let me be the first to congratulate you, Lynde," he said, his kind old -voice shaken with emotion. "You have gained your fortune at last, and -if it has cost you a wife, the loss is the greater gain of the two." - -"It is not true!" cried Lynde, hoarsely. "There is not a word of it -that can be true. There was never any such will made. My uncle died, -believing me guilty of the acts of which my cousin accused me, and -Roger Pyne was never married in his life. Do you think that he could -have had a wife and I not know it! Why, it would have been----" - -He broke off suddenly, remembering the comments that had been made upon -the resemblance between Edith and Leonie upon that night that they had -sat side by side at the table. - -It seemed to offer a certain proof of the truth of the story that -startled him. - -He arose hastily and picked up his hat. - -"Where are you going?" Edith asked, timidly, something in his -expression frightening her. - -"To the station-house where these people are said to be. I must know -the truth." - -Then, after the hesitation of a moment, he turned to Mr. Pryor, -remarking: - -"Do not distress yourself further about Neil Lowell until I see you -again. If the article contained in that paper is true I can take you to -him within the hour." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I cannot tell you now. There is a mysterious something that makes me -horribly afraid that I shall find it all too true, but until my return -I can say nothing!" - -"Why cannot I accompany you? You surely know that you can trust me!" - -"With all my heart! Come, if you will." - -Lynde bent his head and kissed his cousin. With an impulse that she -could scarcely understand she reached up and placed her arms about his -neck. - -"Something tells me that you will not find it false, dear," she said, -gently, "and, notwithstanding the sorrow that it will bring upon that -unfortunate woman, I cannot regret it. But if it should prove true, I -feel convinced that that woman will try to hold you to the promise that -you have made her by pleading the cause of her love. Promise me that -you will not listen to her, Lynde!" - -He kissed her again and sighed. - -"You must not ask me to promise until I know what I am doing, for I -have never broken one in my life, dear." - -He loosened her arms from his neck, thinking, with something like a -choking sensation, of the one that he had already given and wondering -if anything would happen to release him from it before it was eternally -too late. - -Resolutely he put the thought from his mind and turned again to Andrew -Pryor. - -"Are you ready?" he asked, the anxiety in his voice increasing. - -"Yes. You may be sure that it is all true, Lynde, and that you are the -heir to your uncle's fortune at last." - -"You seem to have forgotten, all of you, that if this story is true, -that will can make small difference to me, as my uncle left a daughter -of whose existence he died in ignorance. The money will be even -less mine than it was before. Do not think that I grudge it to the -unfortunate girl, for that is the only part of the story that offers me -any pleasure at all." - -The consternation of the group was even greater than before, but not -waiting for comment, Lynde placed his hand upon Mr. Pryor's arm and -hurried him from the room. - -"There is one hope!" exclaimed Edith to Miss Pryor when the men had -gone. "If Miss Chandler knows that there is no chance for Lynde to get -the money she will not hold him to that miserable engagement, perhaps, -for I feel convinced from his manner that if she should he would still -marry her!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -By courtesy of the captain, Miss Evelyn Chandler was allowed to receive -a guest who had called upon her, in his private office. - -She had expected to see Lynde Pyne, and had prepared her manner of -receiving him; but as the door opened she staggered back before the -pale, haggard face that confronted her. - -"You!" she exclaimed, as the door was closed, and she found herself -alone with the man who had been a father to her, and whom she had so -grossly deceived. "I--I--did not expect you quite so soon! Did you -receive my note?" - -All the usual bluster seemed gone from the man's manner. - -One would scarcely have recognized Leonard Chandler in the subdued, -pale man that stood before Evelyn; but there was something about him -that frightened her more than that had ever done. She trembled as his -eyes held hers, and catching by the back of a chair, let herself down -in it as though to release her hold meant a fall. - -"I have received nothing!" he answered gravely. "What information I -have had came to me from the newspapers, confirmed by the fact that you -were not in your room this morning, nor had you been all night! I have -come for a denial of the shameful story that has been published from -you, and for irrefutable proof of that denial!" - -He spoke calmly, but the most disinterested could have seen how he was -suffering. - -His pride had been cut to the quick; besides which, he loved the girl -who had been one of his household since her childhood, and who had -taken the place of the daughter that he had so much craved, but that -had not been given him. - -Evelyn fancied she saw some hope in his sorrow. - -She clasped her hands pleadingly before her. - -"I know that appearances are terribly against me!" she cried -desperately. "I have no proof that I can bring forward in my own -defense, but I am innocent. It is a hideous plot that they have -concocted to deprive me of my honor, and to rob you of your money. If -you will only help me, I am quite sure that we can find a way to prove -how false it is." - -He heaved a sigh that contained a note of relief. - -"If I am to help you, and of course you know that if you are innocent -I will do that to the expenditure of the last dollar that I possess -in the world, you must answer my questions clearly and truthfully," -he said, passing his hand across his brow wearily. "I shall not try -to conceal from you how this has hurt me. It has stung my pride and -pierced my heart. My wife is in bed under the shock of it all, for she -has loved you as well as though you had been in reality her child. We -must begin at the beginning and take matters as they came. Why were you -in that house last night?" - -"The woman, Liz, to whom I had been kind, sent for me!" - -"And you went in the night without ordering the carriage? You went to -that part of the city alone? Listen to me, Evelyn! You know how anxious -I am to do for you anything that lies in my power, but I will not -assist you in a lie, and that is one! You must tell the truth, if you -expect anything from me in return." - -"Then listen to me, and I _will_ tell you the truth whatever the cost -to myself. You know that I am not your child. I knew that fact. One -day a man came to me--such a terrible man that no words could ever -describe him to you. He told me that he was my father. He told me the -most odious secret of my birth, and in my terror I allowed him to see -that I knew little of my own antecedents, and that he could work upon -my fears. It continued until I wrote him that first letter that you saw -copied in the papers. - -"Then I discovered that what he had said was a lie from the beginning. -He had known my mother and knew the story of my adoption, determining -to work upon that to extract money from me. I found it out in time, -and forced him to admit that it was true. Then he forged the other -letters that you saw printed. Last night I received a letter from his -wife telling me that he had been arrested, and that she had found those -letters. She offered to place them in my hands if I would go there for -them, assuring me that she would not deliver them to a messenger for -fear of their never reaching me. I went; you know the rest." - -For a long time Leonard Chandler was silent. - -The story had been dramatically told, and it seemed to him that it -might be the truth. - -With all the heart he had he hoped it was, and there was something like -eagerness in his voice as he put his next question. - -"Where is the letter that the woman sent you?" - -She colored. - -"I--I destroyed it," she stammered. - -"Destroyed it! Why? Wait a minute! The papers stated that the woman -jumped from the window a few hours after the arrest of her husband, -crazed by the death of her child. In a state of mind like that, how was -it possible that the poor woman could have thought of writing to you? -Besides, knowing that Mauprat was arrested for attempted murder, why -should she have written you so late at night? And why would not the -morning have done for your visit?" - -"I--I did not--know how long he would be confined, nor did she." - -"Evelyn, are you telling me the truth? It does not seem so. It will -be useless for you to lie to me, for that woman's insanity was but a -temporary aberration of the mind; and while she can never recover from -the injuries of her fall, she is perfectly able to answer any questions -that may be put to her." - -The girl was silent from inability to speak. - -She had not read the part of the paper that told of Liz Mauprat's -condition, and her single chance lay in the fact of her death! - -But she was not dead. - -The fates seemed conspiring against her. - -She lifted her head, but not an idea could penetrate the mental -darkness about her. - -For the first time her composure failed her. - -Her tongue seemed cleaving to her mouth, her lips were dry and parched. - -She had hoped, but the hope was dying. - -"Evelyn," Mr. Chandler said slowly, "granting what you have said to be -the truth, how do you reconcile the fact of your mother's name having -been Mauprat to the story you have told? We adopted you, my wife and I, -and we never saw your mother again, but the papers of adoption gave her -name as Eleanor Mauprat, and the certificate of your birth, and of her -false marriage to your father, tells the rest. Can you explain those -truths away? I don't want to be hard with you. I want to give you every -chance that lies in my power, but I will not protect a woman who would -rob her best friend, who would condemn her sister, as the monster they -make you appear has done; who would stop at no wrong however great, -to save herself from a humiliation that at worst could have been but -the sting of an hour. If this thing is true, and that man were really -your father, was the fault yours? Were you not so much the more to be -sympathized with, that your birth rested under such a cloud? If you had -but trusted to me, do you not know that I would have protected you?" - -Very slowly she arose from her chair and stood before him. - -Her color had returned until a spot of crimson burned in either cheek. - -The timidity of her manner had vanished. - -She was the same girl that had defied Leonie Cuyler in the library at -the time she was discovered to be a thief! - -"Do I not know that you would have protected me?" she asked coldly. -"No, I do not! You came here and have offered to assist me, because -you did not wish your name brought in the scandal that you felt was -about to be connected with me, and now you wish to pose as a saintly -and martyred man who rescued the daughter of a convict but to have -the serpent sting you. You think that I should fall down and bless -you for what you have done for me? Let me tell you how I appreciate -it. From my earliest remembrance my only feeling for you was one of -fear. I would have applied to any stranger for assistance sooner than -to you. You let me know in a thousand ways that upon my conduct alone -depended my chance of remaining in the position in which you had placed -me. You had shown me the luxury of money, you had me educated to the -belief that life was not worth the living without it. You gave me no -means by which I could earn my own support and I knew that expulsion -from your door meant starvation or service in some one's kitchen. It -was theft to close the mouth of my father or death to me! I chose the -easier. You ask if what I have told you is the truth? Well, then, no! -I am the daughter of an ex-convict. Worse than that, my mother died -in the Tombs, convicted of theft! I did steal your money, and Leonie -Cuyler saw me do it. While there I told her the story of her birth and -of mine to force her to keep my secret. That was a great mistake on my -part. I should have found another way. Now what are you going to do? If -you pose as a martyr I shall tell my story to the world of the tyrant -that you are in your family, where even your own wife sits in fear and -trembling. You have but one virtue to commend you, and that is half a -vice--honesty, and even that you carry no further than the negative -will cover. You are not dishonest so far as money goes. You would have -protected me? Where was that poor woman, your brother's wife, whom you -let starve with her little child, because she had married your brother -against your august will? Do you want that story published to the -world? I was only waiting for matters to come to a head before forcing -you to my way of thinking in these things. - -"Now listen to me. If you refuse to do what you can for me in this, I -shall tell these things of which I have spoken to the world; I shall -give them the true history of the unfortunate cashier who robbed the -bank in Rochester, driven to it through your cruelty; I shall tell them -the story of Lillieth Dalworth, your niece, whom you drove to suicide. -I do not ask anything of you after my release from here, but I demand -that. You have the money to buy it, if you will. I have no crime to -answer for that is not bailable. You understand what I mean. Do that, -and you will never hear of me again!" - -She paused, looking at him defiantly. - -He had remained very quiet during her long harangue, and when she had -finished, he bowed courteously. - -"I will do what I can for you," he said, coldly. - -A scornful smile curled her mouth. - -She felt that she might have mastered him long, if she had only had the -courage, and she took the chair that she had vacated with a smile that -was complacent, while she made no attempt to veil its sneer. - -"Is there anything else that you would like to say?" he asked, quietly. -"Is there no message that you would like to send to the woman who was a -mother to you, and against whom there is no charge that you can bring?" - -"I will take care of that!" said Miss Chandler, airily. - -Mr. Chandler took up his hat. - -"Then I may bid you good-morning!" he said, his manner unchanged. "You -shall hear from me later." - -She bowed as he left the room. - -He paused at the captain's desk outside. - -"You told me as I came in," he said slowly, calmly, "that there was no -charge against Miss Chandler by which she could be held, and that she -would be dismissed when she was brought before the justice, did you -not?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Very well. I wish to make a charge against her now--grand larceny!" - -The captain started back in amazement. - -"But sir----" he began. - -"There is nothing more," returned Mr. Chandler, coolly. "When you -have made out the complaint, I am ready to sign it, and I should feel -grateful if you will do it as speedily as possible!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -While Miss Chandler sat there complacently waiting for some one to -conduct her back to the cell where she had passed the early morning -hours, or tell her that the carriage was waiting to take her to her -home, an officer in uniform entered, bearing a card. He gave it to her -with a ceremony that under other circumstances might have been amusing. - -She took it with a loftiness of bearing extremely out of keeping with -her unfortunate position, and in the same manner that she might have -spoken the words to Leonard Chandler's servant, she said: - -"Admit him!" - -A moment later Lynde Pyne was shown in. - -He came forward with extended hands and kissed her as was his wont. - -"I don't know how to express my sympathy for you in a trial like this," -he said gently. "It must be horrible!" - -"A ghastly sort of mistake," she replied, with a little shuddering -laugh intended to be pretty. "I must apologize to you for the absurdity -of my dress. Fancy receiving one in the morning in a gown like this." - -Pyne gazed at her in absolute amazement. Had she taken leave of her -senses that she could deliberately jest under circumstances like those? - -"It is nothing!" he stammered. "If you were only out of this your gown -would be the last thing that I should think of. How did it happen?" - -"I will tell you when we are at home. This room is comfortable enough -for ordinary purposes, but I don't like it." - -"When--you are--at home?" - -"Yes. My father has gone to arrange for my immediate return." - -"You mean--Mr. Chandler?" - -"Whom else should I mean? Mr. Chandler, to be sure." - -"But--there must be some mistake." - -"There is a mistake, of course. That goes without saying, when I am an -inmate of a prison." - -"But--I--mean about Mr. Chandler. The charge against you was made by -him ten minutes ago, and signed with his name." - -Evelyn Chandler arose slowly from her chair. Every particle of the -color had slowly left her cheeks, leaving her ghastly in pallor. She -gazed at Pyne as though convinced of his insanity. - -"You must be mad," she exclaimed, slowly, the words falling from her -lips like lead. "He was here only a few minutes ago, and left me with a -promise that he would return at once. You cannot be correct." - -"I met him leaving the house, and----" - -Before he could finish his sentence she flew to the door and tore it -open. The captain met her there. - -"Is it true that Leonard Chandler has entered a charge against me?" -she demand, her voice sounding like nothing human in its terrible -hoarseness. - -"Quite true!" returned the captain, with perfect politeness. - -"What charge?" - -"Grand larceny." - -The woman fell back against the casing of the doorway. - -She made a curious picture standing there with that expression of -hideous agony upon her pallid features, her throat and shoulders bare, -her nude arms thrown upward. - -There was not a man in the room who did not admire her in spite of the -serious charges made against her. Lynde Pyne came to her assistance, -and tenderly drew her back into the room, while he closed the door. She -raised herself in his arms after a moment of inactivity, like a fiend. - -"Let me go there!" she cried, madly. "Let me tell them what he is! He -has betrayed me, and publicly in the courtroom I will tell the world -what he is. I will pay him for this if it takes my life." - -"Calm yourself, dear!" exclaimed Lynde, gently. "There is nothing that -you can do against him. Come! You will be summoned to the courtroom -in a few minutes for preliminary examination. If you will allow me, I -will, of course, act for you; but you must tell me all the evidence -there is against you. You must keep nothing from me, for therein lies -your only chance. Will you do it, Evelyn?" - -She shrunk from him for a moment as though in terror of even the -sympathy she read in his eyes; then she sprung forward like a cat -and caught him by the arm, lifting her glistening eyes with intense -excitement. - -"I have your promise that you will marry me!" she cried. "This does not -release you. Tell me that is does not?" - -His face quivered with the agony that it cost him to speak, but he -replied bravely: - -"The misfortune of the opposite party never releases one from a -promise. I am ready to keep my word when the conditions of our contract -shall have expired." - -"Then you will do it at once--at once! A will has been found that gives -everything your uncle possessed to you. The fortune that millions could -not cover is yours, and Leonie is cleared of any complicity in the -crime of which she was, in a way, accused. Are you ready to keep your -word now?" - -"The proofs are not yet in my hands, and even if they were, the fortune -to which you refer is not mine. You forget that in the papers which -will be brought before the court there will be one showing that my -uncle left an heir who can lay a claim before which the strongest will -could not stand." - -"You mean----" - -"I mean the claim of Leonie Cuyler Pyne!" - -"And you decline this fortune?" - -"Emphatically I do!" - -Her eyes glittered like those of a tigress. - -"Then you intend to leave me to the fate that that cursed fiend, -Leonard Chandler, has prepared for me?" she cried hoarsely. "You intend -to allow me to be sent to the penitentiary, thinking that will cancel -your promise to me, and leave you free to marry the heiress. That is -it, is it?" - -"You know that it is not!" exclaimed Lynde almost roughly. "I have no -more idea of marrying Miss Pyne than I have of marrying Juno. Don't -talk so foolishly. I am ready to do anything within the range of human -capability to help you." - -"But you can do nothing without money--absolutely nothing. You must -take that money or you must see me sent to prison." - -"Once for all--I will not do it. Now let that settle it forever. Are -there any points that you can give me to assist in your defense? I do -not ask you whether you are guilty or not. At least, I shall give the -benefit of the doubt----" - -"No!" she cried shrilly. "You shall not do even that. The proofs are so -strong against me, that if my innocence is proven it must be bought. -Witnesses must be purchased. There is no other way. I am guilty! I am -guilty of all that and more, but if you don't wish the woman whom you -have sworn by a solemn oath to make your wife, an ex-convict when that -ceremony is performed, you must accept that money and save me. Leonie -knows the truth, Ben Mauprat knows it, that woman, Liz, knows, and the -letters that Ben had not the sense to destroy, are against me. How can -you prove all those things liars without money?" - -"And is there not a single circumstance in your favor?" - -"Not one. I have grown honest at last in that I can acknowledge it. -Lynde, Lynde, listen to me! I have borne it bravely, but I am not -brave. I am the greatest coward under God's heaven. Oh, listen to me -and save me! I cannot go there to that prison, and yet there is not -a point for my defense. He brought me up in luxury and idleness. I -knew nothing but wealth and plenty, so that when that horrible man -came, what was I to do? He told me that my father was a forger and my -mother a thief. He threatened to make those odious facts known unless I -furnished him with the money that he demanded. I knew Leonard Chandler -so well that I was convinced that to have him hear the story would be -but to have him turn eternally against me. He would not give me the -money that was required to buy my father's silence, and my father would -not remain quiet without. What was I to do? There was but one course -left. I learned the lesson that my parents taught. I was the offspring -of thieves, why should I be different from them? Now, Lynde, you know -the truth. I have tried my best to appear stony, but I am afraid. What -am I to do? Oh, my dear, if you leave me to my fate, I am lost indeed! -Lynde, promise that you will not! Swear to me that you will save me! -Swear it, Lynde, by----" - -"Hush, dear!" he whispered, laying his hand across her mouth as she -kneeled there in front of him with her wild eyes raised appealingly. -"There is no need of an oath. You may be sure that I shall do for you -everything that lies in my power. I will turn heaven and earth to save -you!" - -"And if you fail," she continued, her teeth chattering horribly, "what -then? When I am released from that place, when my life is shadowed by -the most awful curse that could befall a mortal, you swear that you -will take me away? That you will not forget the promise that you made -long ago?" - -If she saw the anguish of his face, it was of small moment to her. - -"A promise given is for all time, and under all conditions and -circumstances to me!" he answered, huskily. "Let us end this scene, -Evelyn. I came here to find out what I was to do to assist you, but it -seems that I must work in the dark. I may as well tell you frankly that -if this is all you have to say, there is little hope. Is----" - -Before the sentence could be completed, the officer entered to announce -to them that the hour had arrived for her appearance before the judge. - -With what calmness he could assume, Lynde lifted her to her feet. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -The little dingy courtroom had never witnessed such a crowd before as -the one that packed it from the justice's desk to the door, and even -out into the hall and down the dirty steps. - -Women, men and even little children, had come to see Miss Evelyn -Chandler, of whom they had read in social circles, and many of them -seen, under arrest! - -Her reception-dress was covered by the long cloak that had concealed -her gown when she started upon that memorable visit to the rooms of Ben -Mauprat upon that fatal night. - -A pair of long, black gloves covered her hands, and a black hat with -nodding plumes shaded her lovely face. - -She leaned upon the arm of Lynde Pyne as she entered, pale, but -composed, while he was ghastly. Immediately behind her was Luis -Kingsley, haggard and gray of countenance, while Leonie, followed by a -policeman, brought up the rear. - -She still wore her masculine garments, but with an air of timidity and -modesty, now that the world knew her sex. - -She had scarcely made her appearance than Andrew Pryor leaped forward, -seizing her effusively by the hand. - -"You, Neil!" he cried, almost breaking into tears in his delight. "This -is the greatest happiness of my life! How came you here? Who has been -getting you into trouble? I knew that something had happened to you -when you did not come back; but thank the Lord I've found you at last! -How did you happen to be here? Tell me all about it, my boy, and I will -see that you are released at once!" - -Leonie's face was crimson. - -She could not keep from smiling, while tears dimmed her vision. - -"I am afraid that you will find I have deceived you, Mr. Pryor, and -then I shall lose the friendship that I have valued as one of my best -possessions, and I have few." - -"You have deceived me?" he exclaimed. "Nonsense! How have you deceived -me? I tell you, it is not possible! What is it that they accuse you of? -My friend Lynde Pyne is here. He is a lawyer and he shall defend you. -Why, he has tried as hard to find you as I have, and seemed even more -interested. Don't be afraid! He will get you out of here soon enough!" - -With utmost good nature he patted Leonie upon the shoulder, and allowed -her to take the seat the officer indicated, turning his attention to -that individual. - -"What is that boy accused of?" he asked. "He is as innocent as I am! -Never did a wrong thing in his life!" - -"That is no boy!" answered the policeman with a short laugh; "that is a -girl." - -Mr. Pryor staggered back as though the officer had threatened to arrest -him. - -"A girl!" he gasped. "Have you all gone mad? Why, that boy is Neil -Lowell, and he worked for me as my private secretary. He is the best -fellow in existence, and never did a wrong act in his life!" - -"She is a girl, for all that!" returned the officer, serenely. - -Andrew Pryor sat down very suddenly. He seemed to be utterly overcome -by the intelligence he had received. - -His eyes were riveted upon Leonie as though they could never be removed. - -Then by degrees he began to put certain circumstances together. - -He remembered the refusal to attend the stag supper, and a smile -came to his face; that was followed by many other minor things that -all seemed important now, then his hand came down upon his knee with -peculiar force. - -"And Pyne knew it all the time!" he exclaimed, below his breath, with -a firmness that left no room for contradiction. "I see it all now as -clearly as can be. Of course he knew! Well, this beats a novel!" - -His reflections were cut short by the opening of court! - -There is so great a sameness about such trials that there is little to -tell of the occurrences of the next hour or more. - -Leonie was discharged for want of evidence against her, but Evelyn -Chandler and Luis Kingsley were both held to wait the action of the -Grand Jury, the one to answer to the charge of grand larceny, the other -of felonious concealment of a will. - -There was great excitement evidenced when Leonard Chandler took the -stand against his adopted daughter, but the questions that were put -to him were few, and answered in a tone that was not audible to those -twenty feet removed from him. - -Then there was a murmur of voices when Lynde Pyne asked for bail for -his client, which was strenuously opposed by Leonard Chandler on the -ground that she had demanded it of him, expressing a determination to -leave the state before the trial. - -Thereupon the bail was fixed at a figure that Pyne could not cover, -since the will had not yet been admitted to probate, and the money was -not his until it had. - -Miss Chandler and Kingsley were therefore placed in the hands of -officers of the court to be conducted back to prison. - -"Take courage!" Lynde whispered to her at parting. "What can be done -for you I will do, you may be sure of that. I will procure the bail and -you will be released within a few hours at most." - -She had scarcely left his presence than he turned to look for Leonie. - -Andrew Pryor was holding her firmly by the hands while she half smiled -into his face. - -"You little rascal--I mean witch!" he exclaimed. "Why did you not tell -me of this long ago? Did you feel that you could not trust me? It is -the most extraordinary thing I ever heard of! Where did you get the -information that enabled you to do a man's work?" - -"You forget that I was a typewriter for a number of years, and that I -learned a man's business through copying it for him," she answered, -deeply affected by his kindness. - -"You are coming right home with me. You shall still be my private -secretary if you are a girl." - -"You are so good, sir!" - -"Oh, hang it all, I forgot about the fortune you will have now, and -that you will not have need of me any longer. I am half sorry for the -good fortune that robs me of you." - -"I am as poor as I was before, Mr. Pryor, and if you will allow me to -return to you, you will save me many hours of distress over what my -future is to be. I am forced to earn my living now as formerly." - -"But, my dear, how is that?" - -"Changing my male attire for that of a girl will not alter my -circumstances, unfortunately." - -"I don't understand it, but come home, and we will talk it over there. -Mrs. Pryor has been just as anxious about you as I have, and will be as -glad to see you. So will the girls, though hanged if I don't believe -they will be disappointed at the change in your sex, for they were -all more than half in love with you. Besides that, you have a cousin -there----" - -"And another here, that you will not give an opportunity of speaking -to her," interrupted Pyne. "You must not be so selfish, Mr. Pryor. You -believe me that I am glad to find in you a cousin, do you not, Leonie? -I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart." - -She placed her hand in his proffered one without lifting her eyes. - -"It is so good of you!" she returned gently. "I realize how hard it -must be for you when you remember that my mother's disgrace is the -first that has ever stained your noble family. Perhaps some day you -will let me tell you the story, and then you may find a little sympathy -for the woman who was driven to the act of which she was guilty to save -her child from starving." - -"And my uncle allowed that torture to rest upon his wife? I wonder that -you can look upon one of us, knowing that it was one of our blood that -caused you such suffering!" - -"It was not his fault." - -"This is not the time to speak of things like those!" Mr. Pryor cut in. -"I am going to take her home with me now, Pyne. You will know where to -find her when you want to see her, and you also know that you will be -always welcome." - -They shook hands again and separated. - -Andrew Pryor led Leonie, still in her ragged costume, down to his -carriage, placed her inside with old-school courtesy, and gave the -order for "home." - -"I can hardly realize it," he exclaimed, when he had closed the door, -"that you are really a girl! What a surprise it will be to Mrs. Pryor -and the girls. And you put on that costume as a sort of private -detective?" - -"Oh, no! I put it on because after I discovered Miss Chandler to be -dishonest I was arrested as an accomplice, and in order not to be -forced to tell my story, I ran away. I did it for safety! What I have -discovered about my birth, came to me as the result of accident!" - -"A remarkably timely accident! If I can curb my curiosity until we get -home, I must hear all about where you went when you left my house, and -how you happened to be detained. I shall keep you talking for a week." - -"There is just one thing that I must do first of all if you will let -me," returned Leonie, almost reverently, "and that is to pay a visit -to Liz. Poor woman! But for her, I might still have been there in that -room surrounded by rats and beaten almost to death by that demon, -Mauprat. I have felt within the last few hours as though the life of -that helpless child of hers had been the price of my freedom and of -Lynde's restoration to his fortune." - -"Lynde's restoration?" - -"Yes, certainly. And it seems to me that I owe her a debt that never -can be repaid for that, not to speak of her great kindness to me. But -for her I think I should have gone mad." - -"Yes, of course you shall pay the visit. That is all right, but what is -this about Lynde's fortune? Surely you know that if you prove yourself -the daughter of Roger Pyne the money is yours." - -"The money is not mine, sir. My father never even knew of my existence, -and I have no more right to the money than you have. Surely a man has -the privilege of leaving money that is his where he wishes. But I tell -you this, that right or wrong, I would put my hand in the fire and burn -it off before I touch a cent of it. It was never intended for me, and I -will have nothing to do with it. Please say nothing more about it, but -let this settle it forever!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -Notwithstanding the extreme cordiality of her reception by Andrew -Pryor, Leonie felt, naturally, some misgivings regarding the welcome -she would receive from the feminine portion of the household. - -She was, however, prepared for anything, and it was with a most -thankful heart that she heard the exclamations of delight that were -unanimous when she was seen at the door of the drawing-room in company -with Mr. Pryor. - -Doffing the ragged cap that covered her head, she smilingly received -the welcome of Mrs. Pryor, followed by that of the young ladies, and -grasped the hand of Miss Pyne with suspicious warmth as it was extended -last. - -"I don't know what we should do with you for giving us the fright that -you have!" cried Mrs. Pryor, warmly. "I honestly think that Mr. Pryor -has not slept a night since you left us so unceremoniously." - -Leonie colored vividly, and even Mr. Pryor looked a trifle sheepish. - -"Before you make any more such remarks as that, my dear," he exclaimed, -laughingly, "you had better let me tell you the romance that clings to -my private secretary! He is not a man at all, but a young woman who -happens to be the first cousin of our little friend here, Miss Edith -Pyne!" - -If he intended to create a sensation, as of course he did, his object -was achieved to its fullest extent. - -There was not a word spoken in the room for many moments, Mrs. Pryor -being the first to break the silence. - -"But I don't understand it at all!" she cried. "Is not this Neil -Lowell?" - -Leonie stepped forward, her brow colored crimson. - -"I don't think that I should have had the courage to face you after my -deception, dear Mrs. Pryor," she said, timidly, "but for the cordiality -of your husband. If you will allow me, when I have more time than -now, I will explain to you the reason for my assuming male attire and -passing myself off upon your kindness in a false light. I hope you will -forgive me." - -"There is nothing to forgive, absolutely nothing! And you are really -the cousin of Edith Pyne?" - -"You read that remarkable story in the papers this morning, did you -not?" cut in Mr. Pryor. "Well, this is the child of that marriage. You -may be sure the papers will contain many sensational points to-morrow -that they failed to get to-day, and New York will be more surprised -than it has been for many days." - -"I don't know what your name is, Neil Lowell," exclaimed Edith, with a -merry laugh, "but I am very much pleased that you are my cousin, and -before you take off your boy's clothes, I should like to kiss you!" - -There was general merriment, of course, but Mrs. Pryor's next question -put an end to it. - -"And Miss Chandler," she said, "what had she to do with it?" - -There was silence for a moment, then Andrew Pryor answered: - -"This young lady is in haste to pay a call. While she goes to change -her dress I will tell you all that! Gwen, or the one of you that is -nearest your size, will furnish you with clothes, my dear, until your -wardrobe can be changed. Run away now, and be back as quickly as you -can." - -Understanding the kindness of the intention, Leonie gave him a glance -of gratitude, and followed the girls from the room. - -Laughing, chatting, asking a hundred questions in as many seconds, they -went on their way as though they had been friends for life, and it -was with a heart filled with the sincerest of gratitude, that Leonie -realized that she had found friends at last, friends who would never -fail her in her bitter struggle with loneliness and isolation. - -They soon found a gown that would fit, and not long afterward she -announced to them that she must make her call at the hospital. - -The carriage was ordered to the door, and she was driven away with as -much ceremony and respect as though she were a member of the family, -where she was in reality but a dependent. - -But as she rode onward her thoughts fled from her own good fortune -to that unhappy woman who had done so much to aid her in securing -that which was more to her than her life, and a great sadness took -possession of her. - -How good God was to her, giving her name and friends when she had lost -all hope, yet how far He seemed from that poor creature lying there -knowing that she must die, and that the child whom she had so much -loved had preceded her. - -The beautiful eyes filled with tears as the carriage stopped. - -She explained to the person in charge of the building who she was, and -was admitted to the ward in which poor Liz lay upon one of the little, -white-draped cots. - -Very quietly Leonie approached her, and, kneeling beside the bed, -kissed her upon the forehead. - -"Don't you know me, Liz?" she asked gently. - -The woman smiled feebly, making an effort to extend her hand. - -"I did not until you spoke!" she answered weakly; "but nothing could -ever cause me to forget that voice. You are Leonie; but how changed you -are." - -"Borrowed plumes make changes in us all! They have told you of the -terrible things that happened last night, have they not, dear?" - -"Yes; they came to take my statement--_ante-mortem_, I think they call -it!" - -"Oh, Liz! I hope it may not be true! Do not you know, dear, how we had -planned to go away and live together? If you will only get well, Liz, -we can do that now." - -The smile upon the poor tired face deepened. - -"That was before Dick died," she replied, with as much cheerfulness as -a rapidly dying woman can express. - -"But you would need me all the more now!" - -"No. I shall never trouble any one again. God has been very good to me, -after all, Leonie. He knew that I could never live without Dick, and he -placed a means in my power without making me responsible for it. They -tell me that I sprung out that window, but I have no remembrance of it, -and I know that He will not hold me guilty. My boy is waiting for me, -Leonie, just across the river, and when I close my eyes I can see him -as distinctly as I can you, only that he is robbed of his deformity -and his rags. It does not seem like little Dick, and yet I know that -it is he. The Lord has sent him to help his mother safely over. I have -not lived a guiltless life, Leonie, but for Dick's sake the Lord will -forgive." - -"And you are not afraid, Liz?" whispered Leonie, the awe of her tone -making it extremely low. - -"Afraid of my God?" returned the woman wonderingly. "Afraid of Heaven -when I have known such torture here upon earth? Oh, no! I have been -praying to God to have mercy upon Ben and send him repentance. That is -my one torture now that I am dying. I have not forgotten you, dear, -and I never shall; but here, just at the last, when I remember all the -wickedness of his life, I do not see how God ever could forgive him!" - -"And yet you can!" - -"Upon that I found my hope. Oh, Leonie, it seems so sweet to know that -it is all over and done with at last. All the old heartaches, the -terror, the fear lest Ben should kill my poor, helpless baby. No one -but God could ever know what a hideous nightmare it was, but it will be -over now in a few hours at most. I hope you may be happy, my dear girl, -and that we may meet in that heaven that is promised to us all." - -"I almost wish that I could go with you," whispered Leonie, choking -back her sobs. "There is so little of happiness here, and so much -promised there. I know that I am ungrateful to Heaven for all the kind -friends that have been sent me, but my mother is up there, Liz, and -sometimes the desire is so strong upon me to see her and Dad, to be -with them again, that I can scarcely control it." - -"I had forgotten them. I shall see them before you will, dear." - -"Yes, and if you can deliver them a message for me, tell them that I -ought to be happy, that I am ungrateful, but that the whole craving of -my heart is to be with them and with God. Tell them that I have and -shall do only what I believe they would advise and wish me to do. Oh, -Liz, I wish that I might go with you!" - -There was something curiously touching in that scene, so simple and yet -so explicit in its faith. There was not the smallest doubt in the heart -of either. - -The dying woman reached up her arms and clasped them about the girlish -neck. - -"Not yet, dear," she whispered. "Life should hold many things that -are precious to one so beautiful and so good as you. Heaven has not -forgotten you. Only trust it all to God. But when the good days come, -do not forget Him in your enjoyment. Remember that the hour that I am -awaiting almost impatiently now must come to you at last." - -Leonie was weeping softly. Her very heart seemed breaking. - -She had never seemed so utterly alone since that night upon which her -grandfather had left her to battle with life alone. - -The friends she had left seemed to count as nothing in that hour. - -She could scarcely control an hysterical sobbing, but for Liz's sake -she knew she must. - -She lay there with her head upon the dying woman's pillow, the feeble -hands straying softly over the short hair from which the hat had fallen. - -Suddenly the motion ceased. - -There were a few whispered words that Leonie did not catch, then a hand -was placed gently upon her shoulder. - -She lifted her head and saw beside her an attendant--a sweet-faced, -low-voiced woman. - -"It is all over!" she whispered reverently. - -With a horrified expression, Leonie gazed at the face upon the pillow. - -A peaceful smile hovered upon it. The lips were open, and a dimple -rested in the left cheek as it had been in girlhood. - -"Liz!" Leonie whispered, "Liz!" - -But there was no answer. - -She slipped from beneath the hand that the attendant had laid upon her -arm, and fell to the floor, her bright, beautiful head falling across -Liz's bosom. - -Most tenderly she was lifted and carried from the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -"Lynde is down-stairs, asking for you, Leonie. I don't think you are -well enough to see him, but Mr. Pryor insisted that I should ask you. -What shall I say to him, dear?" - -Edith Pyne bent and kissed her cousin affectionately, as she asked -the question, and Leonie's eyes filled with tears. Kindness had never -seemed to affect her so much as since the death of poor Liz, and -she had never received more of it. They all seemed to vie with each -other in their attempts to do most to make her comfortable, and in -consequence kept her in a state bordering on hysteria. - -"I will go down to see him, of course," she returned, with a little -quiet smile. "You are all too good to me. You will make a perfect baby -of me if this continues." - -She arose, and assisted by Edith, made her way down-stairs; but at the -door of the library the support was withdrawn, and she was left to -enter alone. - -She did not notice the fact, as she thought she should find all the -family gathered there, if she thought of it at all; but she seemed to -understand when she saw that the room contained Lynde Pyne alone. - -A dainty crimson overspread her face, but controlling her timidity, she -entered and quietly placed her hand in the one extended. - -Lynde drew her down beside him upon a sofa before either of them spoke. - -"I expected to see you more exhausted, after the trying scenes through -which you have passed," he said gently. "I am pleased to see you -looking so well." - -"Edith and the rest have been trying to persuade me that I was in a fit -state for rapid decline, or nervous prostration," she answered, with -an attempt at lightness. "It is quite a relief to hear you say to the -contrary." - -"Not at all. I never saw you look better." - -"I am sorry that I cannot say the same for you. You seem harrassed, -haggard. Tell me, will you not, how things are going? I have been so -anxious to know; but no one knew, or if they did, refused to tell me." - -"It has distressed me! I never knew how few friends I had until now. I -cannot procure the amount of bail required for--Evelyn, and surely you -know what the result of that will be. She is in the Tombs in a state of -mind bordering upon insanity. I know that I should not tell you this, -and yet, you may be able to help me. The men whom I have accounted my -friends refuse to go on the bond for me, saying that she would but -escape, and I should be left with an amount to pay that would ruin me, -as, of course, I have offered to make the amount good in the event of -an accident. Even Mr. Pryor swears at me when I insist upon it that he -must do as I say. But if you would speak to him the effect might be -different." - -"It is so good of you to take this interest in her. If there is -anything that I can do, you may be sure that I will with all my heart. -Oh, Lynde, I tried so hard to spare her. I entreated her to see the -condition in which she was placing herself, but she would not. Why, -upon the night that we were all arrested, I told her of the papers -that were in my possession--papers that I had no wish should ever come -before the public. I did not even ask her to resign her position as the -daughter of Leonard Chandler, but I could not see her become your wife -knowing that she was a---- I cannot say the word. The thought of it is -hideous to me!" - -"But it has not released me from my promise, Leonie." - -"What! You would not marry her now?" - -"I must." - -"You are mad!" - -"I sometimes think I am going mad! She holds the most solemn pledge -from me that man could give to woman, and I have not the power to break -it. But let us leave this subject! It is not a safe one for you and me -to speak upon. You will do what you can with Mr. Pryor?" - -"I will." - -"There was another thing that I wished to speak to you about. I have -engaged one of my friends, a lawyer of considerable prominence, to -examine the original records and prove that your mother's marriage to -Ben Mauprat was not legal, in order that your claim to the fortune your -father left may not admit of question. It may be rather painful for -you, but be assured that all will be done to spare your feelings that -can be. You will trust me for that, will you not?" - -"I don't think I quite understand you. You say that you have engaged a -lawyer for me?" - -"Yes." - -"To prove my claim to the fortune your uncle left?" - -"To the fortune your father left." - -"No one can lay a claim to that in my name without my sanction, can -they?" - -"Of course not." - -"And I have authorized no one to do it. I have already said that I have -no right to that money, and no intention of having it! It is yours, and -yours it shall remain." - -He looked at her a moment in stupefied silence, then placed his hand -very gently on hers. - -"And you think that I am so little a man that I would receive what is -yours by every right under Heaven? You think that I would rob a girl to -enrich myself?" - -She lifted her sweet eyes pleadingly. - -"It is not that!" she cried earnestly. "It was never meant for me, and -I should always feel that I was using that to which I had no right, -that I was living upon charity so to speak! It would eternally hang -like a stone about my neck, dragging me to a premature death. You must -not ask me to do it, Lynde, for indeed I cannot!" - -"But consider, dear; even were I to do the contemptible thing you wish, -your heirs could one day come forward and demand their rights of me, -and there is not a law under the sun that would not give it to them. -You see I should but become a trustee, after all, responsible in the -years to come for that of which, very likely, I should not take the -best of care. There is nothing for it, Leonie, but for you to accept -that which is yours by every right, and of which you have been robbed -so long." - -Her lovely face had grown almost sullen. - -A slow, determined light was burning in her eyes, her hand loosened -itself from his, and she arose slowly to her feet. - -"If that is all that you have come to say, let me settle it with you as -I have with Mr. Pryor, who has ceased to bother me upon the subject. -I will not touch one cent of that money. I did not sell my sister to -a prison for the sake of gaining a few paltry dollars, and I will not -have it appear even to myself that I did. If there were no other reason -than that, it would still be enough." - -Lynde arose and stood before her. - -His face was deadly pale and quivering with the suppression he was -putting upon himself, but he was very quiet, for all that. - -"It seems too absurd," he said slowly, "for us to be standing here -fighting like two children over who shall and who shall not have the -money. Your argument is unreasonable. You might as well say that I am -selling my cousin to a prison in that I contemplate prosecuting him -for the concealment of his knowledge in this affair. There is just one -thing that I wish to say to you, and that is that I shall never touch a -dollar of the money which no more belongs to me than it does to Evelyn -Chandler. If you wish Luis Kingsley to have possession of it, a man who -until a few days ago, was a stranger to you, why, I have nothing to -say." - -She looked at him for some time incredulously, then: - -"You don't really mean that!" she exclaimed. "You would never do -anything so mad!" - -"It contains less of madness than the absurdity you contemplate. I -swear to you that I do mean it. I will never touch it!" - -She hesitated a moment, her eyes filling with tears, then went a step -toward him, laying her hand upon his arm timidly. - -"At least we can come to a compromise, Cousin Lynde," she said, with -strong emphasis upon the relationship. "The money was left to you; -you say it is mine by right of my unfortunate birth, which never was -intended. Very well! I will agree to accept one-half if you will take -the other. Surely you can see the justice in that! I tell you frankly, -that if you refuse, Luis Kingsley may have the money!" - -He saw that she meant it. - -If he only could have said to her what was in his heart! If he only had -had the privilege to propose to her the compromise that was hovering -upon his lips, he would have felt himself the happiest of men, but -honor closed his lips. - -He had not answered her, when Andrew Pryor entered. - -"Well!" he exclaimed, "what understanding have you two arrived at?" - -"None!" returned Leonie, turning to him, desperately. "Oh, sir, I -wish you would make him see that I am right and he is wrong! I wish -you would make him understand how impossible it is for me to do as he -thinks I should! You see it as I do, do you not? At least he should -take half!" - -"That seems to me fair enough, Lynde, unless you could name a different -compromise!" - -He laughed as the remark was made, but would have recalled it if he -could, when he saw the expression of both countenances. - -"You must give me time to think of it!" cried Pyne, speaking hastily, -to cover his confusion. "That is a proposition that I never thought of -before. I will call about it to-morrow; and in the meantime, Leonie, -see what you can do about the other matter that I spoke to you of, will -you not?" - -She was about to reply, when the door opened to admit a servant, -followed by a messenger. - -"For Mr. Pyne!" the servant announced, handing the brownish envelope to -Lynde. - -"Have I your permission?" asked Pyne, glancing from Leonie to Mr. -Pryor, as he held the message in his hand. - -Receiving their permission, he tore the end off and read hastily. A -frown contracted his brow; then, with the ghastliness of death covering -his face, he read it aloud: - - "DEAR PYNE,--A message just came for you from the Tombs to the - effect that a terrible thing has happened there, and your presence - is desired at once. From all accounts you need not distress yourself - further about bail for your fair client. I send this to Mr. Pryor's - in the hope that it may find you. - - "Yours in haste, - - "DOWNING." - -Neither of the distressed listeners spoke until he had reached the door -to answer the imperative call. Then, with a bound, Leonie was beside -him. - -"If anything has happened you will let me know, will you not?" she -asked, her voice not more than a whisper. "You know what I mean. I -should like to see her before----" - -"Let us hope that it is nothing of that kind!" returned Lynde, his -throat seeming to close over the words. "Surely God will give her time -for repentance!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -The drive from the residence of Andrew Pryor to the Tombs was a long -one, and almost an hour had elapsed from the time of his leaving there -until Lynde Pyne arrived at the big, gloomy prison. - -He went at once to the official there, and told of the summons that had -been sent him. - -Then it was that he heard the story of what had happened. - -Miss Chandler had stuck a knife through her throat! - -Where she had procured it, no one was able to say, but certain it was -that the deed had been done, and that she had been removed to the -prison hospital. - -With set face and anxious heart, Lynde made his way to that quarter -that he had visited more than once in his practice, a visit that had -always been attended with horror, but now a thousand times more than -ever. - -He was shown to the cot whereon the once famous beauty rested, her -drawn face now whiter than the drapery of her cot. - -The eyes were closed, the sheet pulled up so that none of the -disfiguring bandages about the shapely throat could be seen. - -"Is she sleeping?" he asked of the physician who stood beside him. - -"One can never tell. She lies like that all the time, and will answer -no questions that are put to her." - -"Will she--live?" - -"Oh, yes! There is no reason why she should not! At first I was very -positive it would be a fatal case, but we succeeded in stanching the -blood sooner than I hoped for. She has lost a great deal however, and -could not have stood much more. We have to watch her all the time, -however, for fear she will attempt it again, and another opening of the -artery would certainly prove fatal." - -"Have I your permission to speak to her if she will answer me?" - -"Certainly, only you must be careful that she does not exert herself -in the very least. Keep her in exactly the position that she now is, -and if the slightest thing should happen, I will be within call. If she -should take it into her head to talk to you, do not allow her to utter -more than a few words at a time and those very softly; you understand?" - -"I think so." - -"I shall be only out of earshot." - -He walked away as he finished speaking, and Lynde took the chair beside -Evelyn's bed. Her eyes opened almost at once. - -"He said that I should not die," she said slowly, and with great -difficulty of articulation, "but he lied! I will die. When a woman is -determined upon a thing like that, there are not men enough in the -world to prevent it." - -"You must not say that, dear," exclaimed Lynde, gently. "He only wants -to save your life for your own good. I think I have succeeded in -securing bail for you, and you must get well now in order that we can -determine what is best to do for you." - -"From whom did you get it?" she stammered, faintly. - -"From--your sister, whose deepest sympathy you have." - -"Leonie?" - -The word was a gasp, the expression of the countenance set with horror. - -"Yes," he answered. - -"Never!" she cried, as vehemently as the circumstances would allow. -"Do you think I would owe my liberty to her? Not if I died like a dog, -as I shall! You have all forsaken me and lied to me. You who pretended -that you would protect me above every one upon earth. Do you think I -did not know that you were not trying to get bail for me? You thought -that you could deceive me until you succeeded in having me sentenced -to the penitentiary, and then you would do as you liked. You would -leave me and marry her. Well, I decided that I would not go there. I -knew that there was but one way to save myself from it, and I took that -means. That old fool told you just now that I should get well. I tell -you that I shall not, and you and my dear sister"--with a disfiguring -sneer--"may look upon yourselves as my murderers! Why did she not come -here with you? I want to tell her before I die the price that she has -paid for her husband." - -"Evelyn, for God's sake think what you are saying! You know that Leonie -is not guilty of your horrible charge!" - -"She is guilty of that and more. But for her I should have been at home -and happy now, but she thought that I was the fortunate one, and she -thrust herself upon me, determining that she would rob me of everything -that made life a joy. She has succeeded. Go and bring her here! I want -her to see the result of it all! I want to see her glory in her own -work here before my eyes before I die! I want her to see what a thing -she has made of her sister, and I want her to know that my blood rests -upon her head." - -"If you do not cease this, I shall call the physician and leave you!" -Lynde exclaimed almost angrily. - -"Will you bring her here?" - -"No! I most emphatically will not!" - -"Then I shall ask the doctor." - -"It would be useless, for I should decline to allow her to come!" - -He was unprepared for what followed his speech. - -Before he could catch her, or in any way stay the mad act, she had -leaped from her cot upon the opposite side from him, and had torn the -bandages from her throat, then catching her finger in the stitches that -held the long wound together, she ripped them open. - -Only insanity could have given her the courage to have accomplished an -act so deliberate in its atrocity. - -Pyne uttered a gasp of horror and sat still as though paralyzed. The -doctor, from the other side of the room, saw the act. - -Like a flash he sprung up and rushed desperately after her; but she -eluded him, a laugh like the fiendish yell of an infuriated animal -sounding upon the stillness of the room. It seemed to arouse Lynde. - -He leaped to his feet, and together they succeeded in catching her and -forcing her down upon the cot, where she was bound; but it required -their united strength to do it, and then only when the floor and -bed-clothing were saturated with blood. - -"She is a raving maniac!" the doctor ejaculated, pausing to wipe the -perspiration from his brow. - -Bound as she was, the hideous laughter continued to fall from her -rapidly paling lips. - -"Quick!" he exclaimed to Lynde. "Go for assistance. Tell some one to -bring my surgical instruments. There is not a moment to lose!" - -But the moment had already passed. - -The horrible laughter grew fainter and fainter, and at last ceased -altogether. - -The struggling grew weaker, and she lay very quietly when they leaned -over her again. - -She had fainted, but it was a swoon from which she never recovered. - -They sat there beside her, doing what mortal men could do to restore -her, but to no purpose. - -The end came without a return to consciousness something like half an -hour later. - -"It is much better that it should have been so," the physician said -consolingly. "She very likely would never have recovered her mental -faculties, and even had she, the horror of an awakening would have -been worse than death. She was too frail of constitution ever to have -endured the tortures of prison life." - -"But to die like that without a prayer for mercy!" murmured Lynde, -shudderingly. - -"It would never have been different. If you grieve, my dear boy, you -are very foolish. The kindest act God ever performed for her was in -allowing her to die." - -"Can it be kept from the papers?" asked Lynde, after a long pause. - -"I am afraid not. Her last words you alone heard, consequently they -rest with you, but the manner of her death must of course be reported, -and the papers will naturally want the conclusion of so startling a -story. I suspected that it would be something like this, for I believed -the act to be that of a lunatic in the beginning. My belief is that -she has been insane for years, though that, and the manner of her -obtaining the knife with which the deed was done, must forever remain a -mystery." - -"It is more charitable to believe it so." - -"God help her, it is her one chance in eternity. I hope that it may -have been so." - -Deep in his heart Lynde uttered a solemn "Amen!" - -If he could not profoundly regret an occurrence that had rid his life -of a contemplation that was more hideous than death, he was not to -blame, for he had tried to do his duty nobly, though only he himself -could have told what a frightful prospect it contained. - -Very gently he told the story to Leonie, concealing in his own heart -that which he knew would cause her the greatest sorrow. - -He told her that her sister had died violently insane, because he -believed there would be a germ of comfort in the knowledge. - -She was deeply affected, not because there had ever been, or could ever -have been any affection between them, but because there were no words -of forgiveness, and because she blamed herself to a great extent for -the untimely end and the grewsome circumstances that led to it. - -"There is one thing more," she said sadly, when the subject had been -talked over for some time. "Mr. and Mrs. Chandler should be told. In -spite of all, I feel that the death will strike them very closely home, -and either you or I must tell them, Lynde. Don't you think so?" - -"Perhaps you are right. They knew of my relations with her, and Mr. -Chandler is not kindly disposed toward me. It might be better for you, -though I will not ask it if you had rather not." - -"I will go. It should be done now, don't you think?" - -"Yes. If left until to-morrow, the papers will do it for us. God bless -you, Leonie." - -She hurried from the room quickly, that he might not see the tears that -had gathered in her eyes. - -She was not altogether unhappy. - -She knew so well how much that death meant to her, but she tried to put -that thought from her. - -It was her sister who was dead--her sister whom, if she had not loved -her, was yet her mother's child. - -Then, for the first time, the horrible remembrance came to her. - -In the place where the mother had died, the daughter who had despised -her memory followed. - -She sat down half paralyzed under the fearful thought that, after all, -it was the "retribution" of which the old Mosaic law has spoken. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -Leonie had returned from her visit to the Chandlers. - -Her eyes showed traces of weeping, and her countenance contained the -radiant glow of a saint that has received the gift of righteousness -through suffering. - -Mr. and Mrs. Pryor, and the Misses Pryor, together with Lynde and Edith -Pyne, were in the library awaiting her, and as she entered she was -warmly greeted, and a comfortable chair placed for her. - -"You look tired and worn, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Pryor, with motherly -kindness. "I think it would be much better for you to go up-stairs and -take a much-needed rest, than allow yourself to be tormented by these -careless young people." - -"I had rather remain, if you will allow me," returned Leonie, meekly. -"I don't think I could rest, and I should not like to be alone. This is -ever so much better, where I can feel what kind friends and true the -Lord has sent me in my loneliness." - -"And Leonard Chandler!" cut in Mr. Pryor, unable to curb his curiosity. -"What did he say?" - -"I cannot tell you how deeply he feels it all!" exclaimed Leonie, -sadly. "I think, had he been her father, his grief could not have -been greater. He feels that to a great extent he is blamable for what -has occurred. Mrs. Chandler is almost in hysteria. She was under the -care of the physician when I left. Evelyn's conduct is all the more -remarkable to me, when I think of the loving tenderness that must have -been hers in the home of her adoption. My heart has ached until it has -seemed almost breaking. Mr. Chandler has asked my permission to have -the body removed at once to his house, and buried from there." - -"And you gave it?" - -"Certainly; what right had I compared with theirs, even had I chosen -to press my claim? They were so kind to me! Why, it seemed almost as -though they were accepting me in her stead. When I was leaving Mrs. -Chandler clasped her arms about my neck, and with tears streaming over -her face said: 'You must fill her place, dear. Remember that I shall -have no daughter now. My heart and home will both be empty. You must -fill the vacancy that her death has left!' I don't know what I have -done that so many friends should be given me, just at the time when I -fancied myself most alone!" - -"It is very nice of the Chandlers, indeed!" cried Mr. Pryor, dryly. -"I don't doubt in the least but that it would be charming for them to -have you take their daughter's place, but there are others who have a -'pryor' claim, eh, Lucretia?" - -He smiled over his little joke, and Mrs. Pryor nodded her head -approvingly. - -"Do you realize, girls," she said, sweetly, "that it is less than an -hour until dinner? Remember your father's horror of a cold dinner, and -take yourselves away to dress at once!" - -There was a general movement in obedience to the command, but as Leonie -was about to follow them, she felt a hand placed very gently upon her -arm. - -"Won't you wait a minute, please?" Lynde asked, half timidly. "I shall -detain you only a few seconds." - -She tried to prevent the crimson from rushing over her face as she felt -it doing, but the effort was without avail. - -The others passed from the room as though they had not observed the -aside. - -"There were a few questions that I wanted to ask you about -the--funeral," Lynde stammered, when they were alone and the door had -been closed. "I thought, perhaps, you might not care to have it talked -of before the others. Will Mr. and Mrs. Chandler attend to everything, -or do you do it?" - -"They wished it all to be just as though none of this horrible recent -past had taken place. They believe with me that she has been insane for -years." - -"That is all, then. And, Leonie, something must be done about that will -very soon. When can you give me an hour to speak of that?" - -"Oh, Lynde, why do you torture me with that old question? You know that -I will never have anything to do with it. But there is one thing that -I wish you would do. Where is the necessity for prosecuting that poor -man, Luis Kingsley? Surely losing all his fortune is punishment enough -for what he has done." - -He looked at her curiously a moment, and said: - -"But I must do it if that will is admitted to probate. There is just -one way that he can be saved, and that is for you to make your claim to -the money, and prove it valid. Otherwise he must suffer." - -He knew that she was not sufficiently a lawyer to know whether he -was telling the truth or not, and he also knew that, under the -circumstances, the point he had made was a strong one. - -She gazed at him a moment; then her lips began to tremble, and her eyes -filled with tears. - -She turned away from him hastily, but not before he had seen, and the -sight was too much for him. - -A man can never endure to see a woman in tears, and most particularly -not a woman whom he loves. - -One quick step forward, an extension of the arms, and she was taken to -his breast. - -"I know that I am a criminal to tell you of my love while that poor -girl lies dead in that dreadful place!" he exclaimed, contritely. "But -what am I to do? The temptation has overpowered me. After all, she -never loved me, and she knew that I did not love her, therefore the -circumstances cannot be the same. Leonie, darling, I do not ask if you -will be my wife, because I know you will! You have never endeavored to -conceal from me that you love me, and through all the wretched past -that has been my single consolation. Tell me that I have not been -wrong, sweetheart!" - -She was weeping softly, but they were tears of relief. - -"Why did you wish to distress me about the will when you knew that it -would be compromised in that way?" she asked, a little smile rippling -through the tears. "Oh, Lynde, it has been such weary, hopeless -waiting. I cannot realize that there are really no barriers between us -now. There was a time when I would rather have died than have you know -the shame that rested upon my mother's name, but after all the fault -was not hers, and it would seem to me now that concealment meant shame -upon her memory. Tell me that you do not despise me for it, dear?" - -He laughed a little, holding her all the closer. - -"Do I look as though I despised you for anything, or could despise you -for anything under God's heaven?" he asked tenderly. "My darling, you -have come to me through grief and suffering, but you are mine at last, -thank Heaven, and all the more precious because of the waiting and the -misery." - -She lifted her face and allowed him to kiss her after the weary -restraint of months. - -In that kiss, they seemed to live again through the weary, hideous time -that had intervened since their meeting, and it was with a thankfulness -to God that neither of them could have expressed that they realized it -was over and done with forever. - -"If Dad could only know how happy I am in spite of all the sorrow I -have known!" muttered Leonie. "Dear old Dad, if he could only have -lived to see his little girl as she is now! But surely up there with -God he knows it all, and the joy with my mother is as great as mine!" - -She gazed up at her young, handsome lover fondly. - -"I hope we will not be punished for our happiness, Lynde," she said -slowly. "It seems dreadful when one thinks of----" - -She hesitated, and he closed her lips with a caress. - -"There can be no wrong in the love that God has given, my dearest!" -he whispered. "Why should we try to conceal what our whole hearts are -crying aloud?" - -She made no attempt to answer him, but allowed him to comfort her, now -that the long wait was ended. - -She had made no move to leave when Mr. Pryor entered. - -"Have you two effected your compromise yet?" he questioned dryly. - -Leonie colored guiltily. - -"We have, sir!" returned Lynde, with manly quiet and dignity. "Under -the circumstances that exist, we wish the matter to remain our secret -for the present, or rather that of the family. Perhaps we have been -premature, but----" - -"Nonsense. You would have been foolish not to have taken advantage of -the opportunity that God made for you especially. I congratulate you -both with all my heart. I have never had anything make me happier, and -I am sure all the rest of the family will join me." - - * * * * * - -There is little remaining to be told. - -Luis Kingsley was not prosecuted for the felonious concealment of a -will. He was released from prison, and shortly after disappeared from -the country. No one knew where he went, and presumably no one cared -enough to inquire. He was as utterly dead to Lynde and Leonie as though -the grave were between them. - -Ben Mauprat was sentenced to two years in the penitentiary for assault -with intent to kill, with a charge of complicity in a robbery hanging -over his head upon his release. But the chances are that he will never -be prosecuted upon that charge. - -Leonie entered her claim to the estate simply to prove the legality of -her mother's marriage, and won the case, against the man who was to -become her husband shortly afterward. - -It occasioned considerable merriment among Lynde's friends, but there -were none of them who did not envy him the "romance of the thing," as -they termed it. - -They are very happy, Lynde and Leonie. They are regular visitors at the -home of Mr. and Mrs. Chandler, where Leonie is petted and made much -of, while the home of the Pryors will be hers until after her nuptials -shall have been celebrated. - -And so the story ends as does all life, with the reward of virtue and -the punishment of vice. - -"Every man's life is a fairy-tale written by God's fingers." - - -[THE END.] - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - -Italics are represented using _underscores_. - -Added table of contents. - -The address transcribed from the front cover may be incomplete -(probably missing a street number) because damage to the original copy -has rendered it nearly indecipherable. - -This story was serialized in _The New York Family Story Paper_ -beginning on March 1, 1890. It was later reissued as a stand-alone -booklet. This transcription is based almost entirely on the later -booklet publication, but the original serial has been referred to in a -few places to confirm words lost due to damage to the booklet copy. - -The original serial publication of the story was attributed to Wenona -Gilman. - -Page 4, removed unnecessary quote after "Godfrey Cuyler seized the girl -by the shoulder." Corrected typo "tighly" in "fingers tightly laced." -Corrected typo "Godfred" in last sentence of chapter II. Added missing -quote after "I have come to you for your advice." Changed ? to ! after -"hang a detective!" - -Page 6, removed duplicate "and" before "stepping to the side." - -Page 9, corrected typo "brillancy" in "terrible brilliancy." Corrected -typo "adressed" in "addressed to himself." - -Page 10, corrected "Payne" to "Pyne" in "Good-morning, Mr. Pyne." - -Page 11, corrected typo "an" for "and" in "and again looked calmly." -Corrected typo "accidently" in "accidentally performed." Corrected typo -"Chicage" to "Chicago." - -Page 12, added missing quote after "It is 'Edith's cousin,' I suppose." -Corrected "gate" to "gait." - -Page 13, changed ! to ? in "What is it that you know of Miss Evelyn -Chandler?" - -Page 14, corrected "Evelyn to Chandler" to "to Evelyn Chandler." - -Page 15, corrected typo "yo" for "you" in "What do you mean?" Corrected -typo "Mauprat" in "Mauprat turned sullenly." Added hyphen to "Carry her -up-stairs" for consistency. Corrected typo "iminent" to "imminent." - -Page 16, corrected single to double quote after "Go for the doctor, -quick!" - -Page 17, retained unusual spelling "sploched" from original. - -Page 18, corrected "braclets" to "bracelets." - -Page 20, corrected "he" to "her" in "in silence beside her." Corrected -! to ? in "Is she dead?" - -Page 21, removed extra period before question mark in "think that you -can get me out to-night?" Corrected "hansome" to "hansom." Corrected -typo "palor" in "pallor overspread." Removed unnecessary quote after -"and go to that house." - -Page 23, corrected "hed" to "had" in "had left the box with the papers." - -Page 24, added missing quote after "Now, is that satisfactory?" - -Page 25, corrected typo "interrrupted" in "Miss Chandler had -interrupted." Corrected single to double quote after "You are sure?" -Corrected typo "thives" in "should be among thieves." Corrected typo -"seargeant" in "those of the sergeant." - -Page 26, corrected "see" to "she" in "she had so grossly deceived." -Removed unnecessary quote after "as Leonie Cuyler Pyne----" - -Page 28, removed hyphen from "court-room" ("dingy courtroom") for -consistency. - -Page 30, corrected "supression" to "suppression." Added missing quote -before "You know what I mean." Changed "was" to "were" before "a few -whispered words." Changed "Liz'" to "Liz's" in "Liz's sake" and "Liz's -bosom." - -Page 31, corrected comma to period after "certainly prove fatal." - -Page 32, added missing quote before ""It seems dreadful when one -thinks." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Leonie, The Typewriter, by Wenona Gilman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEONIE, THE TYPEWRITER *** - -***** This file should be named 54177.txt or 54177.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/1/7/54177/ - -Produced by Demian Katz and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (Images courtesy -of the Digital Library@Villanova University -(http://digital.library.villanova.edu/)) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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