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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon
+
+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
+
+
+Title: The Purple Parasol
+
+Author: George Barr McCutcheon
+
+Posting Date: April 12, 2013 [EBook #6575]
+Release Date: September, 2004
+First Posted: December 29, 2002
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PARASOL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Avinash Kothare, Charles Aldarondo and the
+On-line Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PURPLE PARASOL
+
+
+GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
+
+
+
+
+THE PURPLE PARASOL
+
+
+
+
+Young Rossiter did not like the task. The more he thought of it as he
+whirled northward on the Empire State Express the more distasteful it
+seemed to grow.
+
+"Hang it all," he thought, throwing down his magazine in disgust, "it's
+like police work. And heaven knows I haven't wanted to be a cop since we
+lived in Newark twenty years ago. Why the dickens did old Wharton marry
+her? He's an old ass, and he's getting just what he might have expected.
+She's twenty-five and beautiful; he's seventy and a sight. I've a notion
+to chuck the whole affair and go back to the simple but virtuous
+Tenderloin. It's not my sort, that's all, and I was an idiot for mixing in
+it. The firm served me a shabby trick when it sent me out to work up this
+case for Wharton. It's a regular Peeping Tom Job, and I don't like it."
+
+It will require but few words to explain Sam Rossiter's presence in the
+north-bound Empire Express, but it would take volumes to express his
+feelings on the subject in general. Back in New York there lived Godfrey
+Wharton, millionaire and septuagenarian. For two years he had been husband
+to one of the prettiest, gayest young women in the city, and in the latter
+days of this responsibility he was not a happy man. His wife had fallen
+desperately, even conspicuously, in love with Everett Havens, the new
+leading man at one of the fashionable playhouses. The affair had been
+going on for weeks, and it had at last become the talk of the town. By
+"the town" is meant that vague, expansive thing known as the "Four
+Hundred." Sam Rossiter, two years out of Yale, was an attachment to, but
+not a component part of, the Four Hundred. The Whartons were of the inner
+circle.
+
+Young Rossiter was ambitious. He was, besides, keen, aggressive, and
+determined to make well for himself. Entering the great law offices of
+Grover & Dickhut immediately after leaving college, he devoted himself
+assiduously to the career in prospect. He began by making its foundation
+as substantial as brains and energy would permit. So earnest, so
+successful was he that Grover & Dickhut regarded him as the most promising
+young man in New York. They predicted a great future for him, no small
+part of which was the ultimate alteration of an office shingle, the name
+of Rossiter going up in gilt, after that of Dickhut. And, above all,
+Rossiter was a handsome, likable chap. Tall, fair, sunny-hearted, well
+groomed, he was a fellow that both sexes liked without much effort.
+
+The Wharton trouble was bound to prove startling any way one looked at
+it. The prominence of the family, the baldness of its skeleton, and the
+gleeful eagerness with which it danced into full view left but little for
+meddlers to covet. A crash was inevitable; it was the _clash_ that
+Grover & Dickhut were trying to avert. Old Wharton, worn to a slimmer
+frazzle than he had ever been before his luckless marriage, was determined
+to divorce his insolent younger half. It was to be done with as little
+noise as possible, more for his own sake than for hers. Wharton was proud
+in, not of, his weakness.
+
+It became necessary to "shadow" the fair débutante into matrimony. After
+weeks of indecision Mr. Wharton finally arose and swore in accents
+terrible that she was going too far to be called back. He determined to
+push, not to pull, on the reins. Grover & Dickhut were commanded to get
+the "evidence"; he would pay. When he burst in upon them and cried in his
+cracked treble that "the devil's to pay," he did not mean to cast any
+aspersion upon the profession in general or particular. He was annoyed.
+
+"She's going away next week," he exclaimed, as if the lawyers were to
+blame for it.
+
+"Well, and what of it?" asked Mr. Grover blandly.
+
+"Up into the mountains," went on Mr. Wharton triumphantly.
+
+"Is it against the law?" smiled the old lawyer.
+
+"Confound the law! I don't object to her going up into the mountains for
+a rest, but--"
+
+"It's much too hot in town for her, I fancy."
+
+"How's that?" querulously. "But I've just heard that that scoundrel
+Havens is going to the mountains also."
+
+"The same mountain?"
+
+"Certainly. I have absolute proof of it. Now, something has to be done!"
+
+And so it was that the promising young lawyer, Samuel W. Rossiter, Jr.,
+was sent northward into the Adirondacks one hot summer day with
+instructions to be tactful but thorough. He had never seen Mrs. Wharton,
+nor had he seen Havens. There was no time to look up these rather
+important details, for he was off to intercept her at the little station
+from which one drove by coach to the quiet summer hotel among the clouds.
+She was starting the same afternoon. He found himself wondering whether
+this petted butterfly of fashion had ever seen him, and, seeing him, had
+been sufficiently interested to inquire, "Who is that tall fellow with the
+light hair?" It would be difficult to perform the duties assigned to him
+if either she or Havens knew him for what he was. His pride would have
+been deeply wounded if he had known that Grover & Dickhut recommended him
+to Wharton as "obscure."
+
+"They say she is a howling beauty as well as a swell," reflected
+Rossiter, as the miles and minutes went swinging by. "And that's something
+to be thankful for. One likes novelty, especially if it's feminine. Well,
+I'm out for the sole purpose of saving a million or so for old Wharton,
+and to save as much of her reputation as I can besides. With the proof in
+hand the old duffer can scare her out of any claim against his bank
+account, and she shall have the absolute promise of 'no exposure' in
+return. Isn't it lovely? Well, here's Albany. Now for the dinky road up to
+Fossingford Station. I have an hour's wait here. She's coming on the
+afternoon train and gets to Fossingford at eleven-ten to-night. That's a
+dickens of a time for a young woman to be arriving anywhere, to say
+nothing of Fossingford."
+
+Loafing about the depot at Albany, Rossiter kept a close lookout for Mrs.
+Wharton as he pictured her from the description he carried in his mind's
+eye. Her venerable husband informed him that she was sure to wear a white
+shirt-waist, a gray skirt, and a Knox sailor hat, because her maid had
+told him so in a huff. But he was to identify her chiefly by means of a
+handsome and oddly trimmed parasol of deep purple. Wharton had every
+reason to suspect that it was a present from Havens, and therefore to be
+carried more for sentiment than protection.
+
+A telegram awaited him at Fossingford Station. Fossingford was so small
+and unsophisticated that the arrival of a telegraphic message that did not
+relate to the movement of railroad trains was an "occasion." Everybody in
+town knew that a message had come for Samuel Rossiter, and everybody was
+at the depot to see that he got it. The station agent had inquired at the
+"eating-house" for the gentleman, and that was enough. With the eyes of a
+Fossingford score or two upon him, Rossiter read the despatch from Grover
+& Dickhut.
+
+"Too bad, ain't it?" asked the agent, compassionately regarding the
+newcomer. Evidently the contents were supposed to be disappointing.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," replied Rossiter easily. But just the same he was
+troubled in mind as he walked over and sat down upon his steamer trunk in
+the shade of the building. The telegram read:
+
+"She left New York five-thirty this evening. Stops over night Albany.
+Fossingford to-morrow morning. Watch trains. Purple parasol. Sailor hat.
+Gray travelling suit.
+
+"G. and D."
+
+It meant that he would be obliged to stay in Fossingford all night--but
+where? A general but comprehensive glance did not reveal anything that
+looked like a hotel. He thought of going back to Albany for the night, but
+it suddenly occurred to him that she might not stop in that city, after
+all. Pulling his wits together, he saw things with a new clearness of
+vision. Ostensibly she had announced her intention to spend the month at
+Eagle Nest, an obscure but delightful hotel in the hills; but did that
+really mean that she would go there? It was doubtless a ruse to throw the
+husband off the track. There were scores of places in the mountains, and
+it was more than probable that she would give Eagle Nest a wide berth.
+Rossiter patted his bump of perceptiveness and smiled serenely until he
+came plump up against the realization that she might not come by way of
+Fossingford at all, or, in any event, she might go whisking through to
+some station farther north. His speculations came to an end in the shape
+of a distressing resolution. He would remain in Fossingford and watch the
+trains go by!
+
+After he had dashed through several early evening trains, the cheerful,
+philosophical smile of courage left his face and trouble stared from his
+eyes. He saw awkward prospects ahead. Suppose she were to pass through on
+one of the late night trains! He could not rush through the sleepers, even
+though the trains stopped in Fossingford for water.
+
+Besides, she could not be identified by means of a gray suit, a sailor
+hat, and a purple parasol if they were tucked away in the berth. At eleven
+o'clock he was pacing the little depot platform, waiting for the
+eleven-ten train, the last he was to inspect for the night. He had eaten
+a scanty meal at the restaurant nearby, and was still mad about it. The
+station agent slept soundly at his post, and all the rest of the town had
+gone to bed.
+
+The train pulled in and out again, leaving him at the far end of the
+platform, mopping his harassed brow. He had visited the chair-cars and had
+seen no one answering the description. A half-dozen passengers huddled off
+and wandered away in the darkness.
+
+"I'll bet my head she's in one of those sleepers," he groaned, as he
+watched the lights on the rear coach fade away into the night. "It's all
+off till to-morrow, that's settled. My only hope is that she really
+stopped in Albany. There's a train through here at three in the morning;
+but I'm not detective enough to unravel the mystery of any woman's berth.
+Now, where the deuce am _I_ to sleep?"
+
+As he looked about dismally, disconsolately, his hands deep in his
+pockets, his straw hat pulled low over his sleepy eyes, the station agent
+came up to him with a knowing grin on his face.
+
+"'Scuse me, boss, but she's come," he said, winking.
+
+"She? Who?"
+
+"Her. The young lady. Sure! She's lookin' fer you over in the
+waitin'-room. You mus' 'a' missed her when she got off--thought she
+wasn't comin' up till to-morrer. Mus' 'a' changed her mind. That's
+a woming all over, ain't it?"
+
+Rossiter felt himself turn hot and cold. His head began to whirl and his
+courage went fluttering away. Here was a queer complication. The quarry
+hunting for the sleuth, instead of the reverse. He fanned himself with his
+hat for one brief, uncertain moment, dazed beyond belief. Then he
+resolutely strode over to face the situation, trusting to luck to keep him
+from blundering his game into her hands. Just as he was about to put his
+foot upon the lamp-lit door-sill the solution struck him like a blow. She
+was expecting Havens to meet her!
+
+There was but one woman in the room, and she was approaching the door
+with evident impatience as he entered. Both stopped short, she with a look
+of surprise, which changed to annoyance and then crept into an nervous,
+apologetic little smile; he with an unsuppressed ejaculation. She wore a
+gray skirt, a white waist, and a sailor hat, and she was surpassingly good
+to look at even in the trying light from the overhead lamp. Instinctively
+his eye swept over her. She carried on her arm the light gray jacket, and
+in one hand was the tightly rolled parasol of--he impertinently craned his
+neck to see--of purple! Mr. Rossiter was face to face with the woman he
+was to dog for a month, and he was flabbergasted. Even as he stopped,
+puzzled, before her, contemplating retreat, she spoke to him.
+
+"Did that man send you to me?" she asked nervously, looking through the
+door beyond and then through a window at his right, quite puzzled, he
+could see.
+
+"He did, and I was sure he was mistaken. I knew of no one in this
+God-forsaken place who could be asking for me," said he, collecting his
+wits carefully and herding them into that one sentence. "But perhaps I
+can help you. Will you tell me whom I am to look for?"
+
+"It is strange he is not here," she said a little breathlessly. "I wired
+him just what train to expect me on."
+
+"Your husband?" ventured he admirably.
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" said she quickly.
+
+"I wish she'd wired me what train to expect her on," thought he grimly.
+"She doesn't know me. That's good. She was expecting Havens and he's
+missed connections somehow," shot rapidly through his brain. At the same
+time he was thinking of her as the prettiest woman he had seen in all his
+life. Then aloud: "I'll look on the platform. Maybe he's lost in this
+great city. What name shall I call out?"
+
+"Please don't call very loudly. You'll wake the dead," she said, with a
+pathetic smile. "It's awfully good of you. He may come at any minute, you
+know. His name is--is"--she hesitated for a second, and then went on
+determinedly--"Dudley. Tall, dark man. I don't know how I shall thank you.
+It's so very awkward."
+
+Rossiter darted from her glorious but perplexed presence. He had never
+seen Havens, but he was sure he could recognize an actor if he saw him in
+Fossingford. And he would call him Dudley, too. It would be wise. The
+search was fruitless. The only tall, dark object he saw was the mailcrane
+at the edge of the platform, but he facetiously asked if its name was
+Dudley. Receiving no answer, he turned back to cast additional woe into
+the heart of the pretty intriguer. She was standing in the door, despair
+in her eyes. Somehow he was pleased because he had not found the wretch.
+She was so fair to look upon and so appealing in her distress.
+
+"You couldn't find him? What am I to do? Oh, isn't it awful? He promised
+to be here."
+
+"Perhaps he's at a hotel."
+
+"In Fossingford?" in deep disgust. "There's no hotel here. He was to
+drive me to the home of a friend out in the country." Rossiter leaned
+against the wall suddenly. There was a long silence. He could not find his
+tongue, but his eyes were burning deep into the plaintive blue ones that
+looked up into his face.
+
+"I'll ask the agent," he said at last.
+
+"Ask him what?" she cried anxiously.
+
+"If he's been here. No, I'll ask if there's a place where you can sleep
+to-night. Mr. Dudley will surely turn up to-morrow."
+
+"But I couldn't sleep a wink. I feel like crying my eyes out," she wailed.
+
+"Don't do that!" exclaimed he, in alarm. "I'll take another look outside."
+
+"Please don't. He is not here. Will you please tell me what I am to
+do?"--very much as if it was his business to provide for her in the hour
+of need.
+
+Rossiter promptly awoke the agent and asked him where a room could be
+procured for the lady. Doxie's boarding-house was the only place,
+according to the agent, and it was full to overflowing. Besides, they
+would not "take in" strange women.
+
+"She can sleep here in the waiting-room," suggested the agent. "They'll
+let you sleep in the parlor over at Doxie's, mister--maybe."
+
+Rossiter did not have the heart to tell her all that the agent said. He
+merely announced that there was no hotel except the depot waiting-room.
+
+"By the way, does Mr. Dudley live out in the country?" he asked
+insidiously. She flushed and then looked at him narrowly.
+
+"No. He's visiting his uncle up here."
+
+"Funny he missed you."
+
+"It's terribly annoying," she said coldly. Then she walked away from him
+as if suddenly conscious that she should not be conversing with a
+good-looking stranger at such a time and place and under such peculiar
+circumstances. He withdrew to the platform and his own reflections.
+
+"He's an infernal cad for not meeting her," he found himself saying, her
+pretty, distressed face still before him. "I don't care a rap whether
+she's doing right or wrong--she's game. Still, she's a blamed little fool
+to be travelling up here on such an outlandish train. So he's visiting an
+uncle, eh? Then the chances are they're not going to Eagle Nest. Lucky I
+waited here--I'd have lost them entirely if I'd gone back to Albany. But
+where the deuce is she to sleep till morn--" He heard rapid footsteps
+behind him and turned to distinguish Mrs. Wharton as she approached dimly
+but gracefully. The air seemed full of her.
+
+"Oh, Mr.--Mr.--" she was saying eagerly.
+
+"Rollins."
+
+"Isn't there a later train, Mr. Rollins?"
+
+"I'll ask the agent."
+
+"There's the flyer at three-thirty A. M.," responded the sleepy agent a
+minute later.
+
+"I'll just sit up and wait for it," she said coolly. "He has got the
+trains confused."
+
+"Good heavens! Till three-thirty?"
+
+"But my dear Mr. Rollins, you won't be obliged to sit up, you know.
+You're not expecting any one, are you?"
+
+"N-no, of course not."
+
+"By the way, why _are_ you staying up?" He was sure he detected
+alarm in the question. She was suspecting him!
+
+"I have nowhere to go, Miss--Mrs.--er--" She merely smiled and he said
+something under his breath. "I'm waiting for the eight o'clock train."
+
+"How lovely! What time will the three-thirty train get here, agent?"
+
+"At half-past three, I reckon. But she don't stop here!"
+
+"Oh, goodness! Can't you flag it--her, I mean?"
+
+"What's the use?" asked Rossiter. "He's not coming on it, is he?"
+
+"That's so. He's coming in a buggy. You needn't mind flagging her, agent."
+
+"Well, say, I'd like to lock up the place," grumbled the agent. "There's
+no more trains to-night but Number Seventeen, and she don't even whistle
+here. I can't set up here all night."
+
+"Oh, you wouldn't lock me out in the night, would you?" she cried in such
+pretty despair that he faltered.
+
+"I got to git home to my wife. She's--"
+
+"That's all right, agent," broke in Rossiter hastily. "I'll take your
+place as agent. Leave the doors open and I'll go on watch. I have to stay
+up anyway."
+
+There was a long silence. He did not know whether she was freezing or
+warming toward him, because he dared not look into her eyes.
+
+"I don't know who you are," she said distinctly but plaintively. It was
+very dark out there on the platform and the night air was growing cold.
+
+"It is the misfortune of obscurity," he said mockingly. "I am a most
+humble wayfarer on his way to the high hills. If it will make you feel any
+more comfortable, madam, I will say that I don't know who you are. So, you
+see, we are in the same boat. You are waiting for a man and I am waiting
+for daylight. I sincerely trust you may not have as long to wait as I.
+Believe me, I regard myself as a gentleman. You are quite as safe with me
+as you will be with the agent, or with Mr.--Mr. Dudley, for that matter."
+
+"You may go home to your wife, Mr. Agent," she said promptly. "Mr.
+Rollins will let the trains through, I'm sure."
+
+The agent stalked away in the night and the diminutive station was left
+to the mercy of the wayfarers.
+
+"And now, Mr. Rollins, you may go over in that corner and stretch out on
+the bench. It will be springless, I know, but I fancy you can sleep. I
+will call you for the--for breakfast."
+
+"I'm hanged if you do. On the contrary, I'm going to do my best to fix a
+comfortable place for you to take a nap. I'll call you when Mr. Dudley
+comes."
+
+"It's most provoking of him," she said, as he began rummaging through his
+steamer trunk. "What are you doing?"
+
+"Hunting out something to make over into a mattress. You don't mind
+napping on my clothes, do you? Here's a soft suit of flannels, a heavy
+suit of cheviot, a dress suit, a spring coat, and a raincoat. I can rig up
+a downy couch in no time if--"
+
+"Ridiculous! Do you imagine that I'm going to sleep on your best clothes?
+I'm going to sit up."
+
+"You'll have to do as I say, madam, or be turned out of the hotel," said
+he, with an infectious grin.
+
+"But I insist upon your lying down. You have no reason for doing this for
+me. Besides, I'm going to sit up. Good-night!"
+
+"You are tired and ready to cry," he said, calmly going on with his
+preparations. She stood off defiantly and watched him pile his best
+clothes into a rather comfortable-looking heap on one of the long benches.
+"Now, if you don't mind, I'll make a pillow of these negligée shirts.
+They're soft, you know."
+
+"Stop! I refuse to accept your--" she was protesting.
+
+"Do you want me to leave you here all alone?" he demanded. "With the
+country full of tramps and--"
+
+"Don't! It's cowardly of you to frighten me. They say the railroads are
+swarming with tramps, too. Won't you please go and see if Mr. Dudley is
+anywhere in sight?"
+
+"It was mean of me, I confess. Please lie down. It's getting cold. Pull
+this raincoat over yourself. I'll walk out and--"
+
+"Oh, but you are a determined person. And very foolish, too. Why should
+you lose a lot of sleep just for me when--?"
+
+"There is no reason why two men should fail you to-night, Mrs.--Miss--"
+
+"Miss Dering," she said, humbled.
+
+"When you choose to retire, Miss Dering, you will find your room quite
+ready," he said with fine gallantry, bowing low as he stood in the
+doorway. "I will be just outside on the platform, so don't be uneasy."
+
+He quickly faded into the night, leaving her standing there, petulant,
+furious, yet with admiration in her eyes. Ten minutes later he heard her
+call. She was sitting on the edge of the improvised couch, smiling
+sweetly, even timidly.
+
+"It must be cold out there. You must wear this."
+
+She came toward him, the raincoat in one hand, the purple parasol in the
+other. He took the parasol only and departed without a word. She gasped
+and would have called after him, but there was no use. With a perplexed
+frown and smile she went slowly, dubiously toward the folded bed.
+
+Rossiter smoked three cigars and walked two miles up and down the
+platform, swinging the parasol absent-mindedly, before he ventured to look
+inside the room again. In that time he had asked and answered many
+questions in his mind. He saw that it would be necessary to change his
+plans if he was to watch her successfully. She evidently gave out Eagle
+Nest to blind her husband. Somehow he was forgetting that the task before
+him was disagreeable and undignified. What troubled him most was how to
+follow them if Havens--or Dudley--put in an appearance for the
+three-thirty train. He began to curse Everett Havens softly but potently.
+
+When he looked into the waiting-room she was sound asleep on the bench.
+It delighted him to see that she had taken him at his word and was lying
+upon his clothes. Cautiously he took a seat on the door-sill. The night
+was as still as death and as lonesome as the grave. For half an hour he
+sat gazing upon the tired, pretty face and the lithe young figure of the
+sleeper. He found himself dreaming, although he was wide awake--never more
+so. It occurred to him that he would be immensely pleased to hear that
+Havens's reason for failing her was due to an accident in which he had
+been killed.
+
+"Those clothes will have to be pressed the first thing to-morrow," he
+said to himself, but without a trace of annoyance. "Hang it all, she
+doesn't look like that sort of woman," his mind switched. "But just think
+of being tied up to an old crocodile like Wharton! Gee! One oughtn't to
+blame her!"
+
+Then he went forth into the night once more and listened for the sound of
+buggy wheels. It was almost time for the arrival of the belated man from
+the country, and he was beginning to pray that he would not appear at all.
+It came to his mind that he should advise her to return to New York in the
+morning. At last his watch told him that the train was due to pass in five
+minutes. And still no buggy! Good! He felt an exhilaration that threatened
+to break into song.
+
+Softly he stole back into the waiting-room, prepared to awaken her before
+the train shot by. Something told him that the rumble and roar would
+terrify her if she were asleep. Going quite close to her he bent forward
+and looked long and sadly upon the perfect face. Her hair was somewhat
+disarranged, her hat had a very hopeless tilt, her lashes swept low over
+the smooth cheek, but there was an almost imperceptible choke in her
+breathing. In her small white hand she clasped a handkerchief tightly,
+and--yes, he was sure of it--there were tear-stains beneath her lashes.
+There came to him the faint sob which lingers long in the breath of one
+who has cried herself to sleep. The spy passed his hand over his brow,
+sighed, shook his head and turned away irresolutely. He remembered that
+she was waiting for a man who was not her husband.
+
+Far down the track a bright star came shooting toward Fossingford. He
+knew it to be the headlight of the flyer. With a breath of relief he saw
+that he was the only human being on the platform. Havens had failed again.
+This time he approached the recumbent one determinedly. She was awake the
+instant he touched her shoulder.
+
+"Oh," she murmured, sitting erect and looking about, bewildered. "Is
+it--has he--oh, you are still here? Has he come?"
+
+"No, Miss Dering, he is not here," and added, under his breath, "damn
+him!" Then aloud, "The train is coming."
+
+"And he didn't come?" she almost wailed.
+
+"I fancy you'd better try to sleep until morning. There's nothing to stay
+awake for," although it came with a pang.
+
+"Absolutely nothing," she murmured, and his pride took a respectful tumble.
+
+As she began to rearrange her hair, rather clumsily spoiling a charming
+effect, he remonstrated.
+
+"Don't bother about your hair." She looked at him in wonder for an
+instant, a little smile finally creeping to her lips. He felt that she
+understood something. "Maybe he'll come after all," he added quickly.
+
+"What are you doing with my parasol?" she asked sleepily.
+
+"I'm carrying it to establish your identity with Dudley if he happens to
+come. He'll recognize the purple parasol, you know."
+
+"Oh, I see," she said dubiously. "He gave it to me for a birthday present."
+
+"I knew it," he muttered.
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean I knew he'd recognize it," he explained.
+
+The flyer shot through Fossingford at that juncture, a long line of
+roaring shadows. There was silence between them until the rumble was lost
+in the distance.
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd like to go out on the platform for awhile," she
+said finally, resignation in her eyes. "Perhaps he's out there, wondering
+why the train didn't stop."
+
+"It's cold out there. Just slip into my coat, Miss Dering." He held the
+raincoat for her, and she mechanically slipped her arms into the sleeves.
+She shivered, but smiled sweetly up at him.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Rollins, you are very thoughtful and very kind to me."
+
+They walked out into the darkness. After a turn or two in silence she
+took the arm he proffered. He admired the bravery with which she was
+trying to convince him that she was not so bitterly disappointed. When she
+finally spoke her voice was soft and cool, just as a woman's always is
+before the break.
+
+"He was to have taken me to his uncle's house, six miles up in the
+country. His aunt and a young lady from the South, with Mr. Dudley and me,
+are to go to Eagle Nest to-morrow for a month."
+
+"How very odd," he said with well-assumed surprise. "I, too, am going to
+Eagle Nest for a month or so."
+
+She stopped stock-still, and he could feel that she was staring at him
+hardly.
+
+"You are going there?" she half whispered.
+
+"They say it is a quiet, restful place," he said. "One reaches it by
+stage over-land, I believe." She was strangely silent during the remainder
+of the walk. Somehow he felt amazingly sorry for her. "I hope I may see
+something of you while we are there," he said at last.
+
+"I imagine I couldn't help it if I were to try," she said. They were in
+the path of the light from the window, and he saw the strange little smile
+on her face. "I think I'll lie down again. Won't you find a place to
+sleep, Mr. Rollins? I can't bear the thought of depriving you--"
+
+"I am the slave of your darkness," he said gravely.
+
+She left him, and he lit another cigar. Daylight came at last to break up
+his thoughts, and then his tired eyes began to look for the man and buggy.
+Fatigued and weary, he sat upon his steamer trunk, his back to the wall.
+There he fell sound asleep.
+
+He was awakened by some one shaking him gently by the shoulder.
+
+"You are a very sound sleeper, Mr. Rollins," said a familiar voice, but
+it was gay and sprightly. He looked up blankly, and it was a full
+half-minute before he could get his bearings.
+
+A young woman with a purple parasol stood beside him, laughing merrily,
+and at her side was a tall, dark, very good-looking young man.
+
+"I couldn't go without saying good-by to you, Mr. Rollins, and thanking
+you again for the care you have taken of me," she was saying. He finally
+saw the little gloved hand that was extended toward him. Her companion was
+carrying her jacket and the little travelling-bag.
+
+"Oh--er--good-by, and don't mention it," he stammered, struggling to his
+feet. "Was I asleep?"
+
+"Asleep at your post, sir. Mr. Dudley--oh, this is Mr. Dudley, Mr.
+Rollins--came in ten minutes ago and found--us--both--asleep."
+
+"Isn't it lucky Mr. Dudley happens to be an honest man?" said Rossiter,
+in a manner so strange that the smile froze on the face of the other man.
+The unhappy barrister caught the quick glance that passed between them,
+and was vaguely convinced that they had been discussing him while he
+slept. Something whispered to him that they had guessed the nature of his
+business.
+
+"My telegram was not delivered to him until this morning. Wasn't it
+provoking?" she was saying.
+
+"What time is it now?" asked Rossiter.
+
+"Half-past seven," responded Dudley rather sharply. His black eyes were
+fastened steadily upon those of the questioner. "Mr. Van Haltford's man
+came in and got Miss Dering's telegram yesterday, but it was not delivered
+to me until a neighbor came to the house with both the message and
+messenger in charge. Joseph had drunk all the whisky in Fossingford.
+
+"Then there's no chance for me to get a drink, I suppose," said Rossiter
+with a wry smile.
+
+"Do you need one?" asked Miss Dering saucily.
+
+"I have a headache."
+
+"A pick-me-up is what you want," said Dudley coldly.
+
+"My dear sir, I haven't been drunk," remonstrated Rossiter sharply. His
+hearers laughed and he turned red but cold with resentment.
+
+"See, Mr. Rollins, I have smoothed out your clothes and folded them," she
+said, pointing to her one-time couch. "I couldn't pack them in your trunk
+because you were sitting on it. Shall I help you now?"
+
+"No, I thank you," he said ungraciously. "I can toss 'em in any old way."
+
+He set about doing it without another word. His companions stood over
+near the window and conversed earnestly in words too low for him to
+distinguish. From the corner of his eye he could see that Dudley's face
+was hard and uncompromising, while hers was eager and imploring. The man
+was stubbornly objecting to something, and she was just as decided in an
+opposite direction.
+
+"He's finding fault and she's trying to square it with him. Oh, my
+beauties, you'll have a hard time to shake off one Samuel Rossiter.
+They're suspicious--or he is, at least. Some one has tipped me off to
+them, I fancy."
+
+"I'm sorry they are so badly mussed, Mr. Rollins, but they did make a
+very comfortable bed," she said, walking over to him. Her cheeks were
+flushed and her eyes were gleaming. "You are going to Eagle Nest to-day?"
+
+"Just as soon as I can get a conveyance. There is a stage-coach at nine,
+Miss Dering."
+
+"We will have room for you on our break," she said simply. Her eyes met
+his bravely and then wavered. Rossiter's heart gave a mighty leap.
+
+"Permit me to second Miss Dering's invitation," said Dudley, coming over.
+The suggestion of a frown on his face made Rossiter only too eager to
+accept the unexpected invitation. "My aunt and Miss Crozier are outside
+with the coachman. You can have your luggage sent over in the stage. It is
+fourteen miles by road, so we should be under way, Mr. Rollins."
+
+As Rossiter followed them across the platform he was saying to himself:
+
+"Well, the game's on. Here's where I begin to earn my salary. I'll hang
+out my sign when I get back to New York: 'Police Spying. Satisfaction
+guaranteed. References given.' Hang it all, I hate to do this to her.
+She's an awfully good sort, and--and--But I don't like this damned Havens!"
+
+Almost before he knew it he was being presented to two handsome,
+fashionably dressed young women who sat together in the rear seat of the
+big mountain break.
+
+"Every cloud has its silver lining," Miss Dering was saying. "Let me
+present you to Mr. Dudley's aunt, Mrs. Van Haltford, and to Miss Crozier,
+Mr. Rollins."
+
+In a perfect maze of emotions, he found himself bowing before the two
+ladies, who smiled distantly and uncertainly. Dudley's aunt? That dashing
+young creature his aunt? Rossiter was staggered by the boldness of the
+claim. He could scarce restrain the scornful, brutal laugh of derision at
+this ridiculous play upon his credulity. To his secret satisfaction he
+discovered that the entire party seemed nervous and ill at ease. There was
+a trace of confusion in their behavior. He heard Miss Dering explain that
+he was to accompany the party and he saw the poorly concealed look of
+disapproval and polite inquiry that went between the two ladies and
+Dudley. There was nothing for it, however, now that Miss Dering had
+committed herself, and he was advised to look to his luggage without delay.
+
+He hurried into the station to arrange for the transportation of his
+trunk by stage, all the while smiling maliciously in his sleeve. Looking
+surreptitiously from a window he saw the quartet, all of them now on the
+break, arguing earnestly over--him, he was sure. Miss Dering was
+plaintively facing the displeasure of the trio. The coachman's averted
+face wore a half-grin. The discussion ended abruptly as Rossiter
+reappeared, but there was a coldness in the air that did not fail to
+impress him as portentous.
+
+"I'm the elephant on their hands--the proverbial hot coal," he thought
+wickedly. "Well, they've got to bear it even if they can't grin." Then
+aloud cheerily: "All aboard! We're off!" He took his seat beside the
+driver. The events of the ensuing week are best chronicled by the
+reproduction of Rossiter's own diary or report, with liberties in the
+shape of an author's comments.
+
+
+THURSDAY.
+
+
+"Settled comfortably in Eagle Nest House. Devilish rugged and
+out-of-the-way place. Mrs. Van Haltford is called Aunt Josephine. She and
+Miss Debby Crozier have rooms on the third floor. Mine is next to theirs,
+Havens's is next to mine, and Mrs. Wharton has two rooms beyond his. We
+are not unlike a big family party. They're rather nice to me. I go
+walking with Aunt Josephine. I don't understand why I'm sandwiched in
+between Havens and Aunt Josephine. Otherwise the arrangement is neat.
+There is a veranda outside our windows. We sit upon it. Aunt Josephine
+is a great bluff, but she's clever. She's never napping. I've tried to
+pump her. Miss Crozier is harmless. She doesn't care. Havens never takes
+his eyes off Mrs. W. when they are together. She looks at him a good bit,
+too. They don't pay much attention to me. Aunt Josephine's husband is
+very old and very busy. He can't take vacations. Everybody went to bed
+early to-night. No evidence to-day."
+
+
+FRIDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"Havens and Mrs. W. went hill-climbing this afternoon and were gone for
+an hour before I missed them. Then I took Aunt Jo and Debby out for a
+quick climb. Confound Aunt Jo! She got tired in ten minutes and Debby
+wouldn't go on without her. I think it was a put-up job. The others didn't
+return till after six. She asked me if I'd like to walk about the grounds
+after dinner. Said I would. We did. Havens went with us. Couldn't shake
+him to save my life."
+
+
+SATURDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"I have to watch myself constantly to keep from calling her Mrs. Wharton.
+I believe writing her real name is bad policy. It makes me forget. After
+this I shall call her Miss Dering, and I'll speak of him as Dudley. This
+morning he asked me to call him 'Jim.' He calls me 'Sam.' Actors do get
+familiar. When she came downstairs to go driving with him this morning
+I'll swear she was the prettiest thing I ever saw. They took a lunch and
+were gone for hours. I'd like to punch his face. She was very quiet all
+evening, and I fancied she avoided me. I smelt liquor on his breath just
+before bedtime.
+
+"_One A. M._--I thought everybody had gone to bed, but they are out
+there on the veranda talking. Just outside her windows. I distinctly heard
+him call her 'dearest.' Something must have alarmed them, for they parted
+abruptly. He walked the veranda for an hour, all alone. Plenty of
+evidence."
+
+
+SUNDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"For appearance's sake he took Miss Crozier for a walk to-day. I went to
+the chapel down the hill with Miss Dering and Aunt Josephine. Aunt
+Josephine put a ten-dollar bill in the box. Thinks she's squaring herself
+with the Lord, I suppose. Miss Dering was not at all talkative and gave
+every sign of being uncomfortable because he had the audacity to go
+walking with another girl. In the afternoon she complained of being ill
+and went to her room. Later on she sent for Dudley and Mrs. Van Haltford.
+They were in her room all afternoon. I smoked on the terrace with Debby.
+She is the most uninteresting girl I ever met. But she's on to their game.
+I know it because she forgot herself once, when I mentioned Miss Dering's
+illness, and said: 'Poor girl! She is in a most trying position. Don't you
+think Mr. Dudley is a splendid fellow?' I said that he was very
+good-looking, and she seemed to realize she had said something she ought
+not to have said and shut up. I'm sorry she's sick, though. I miss that
+parasol dreadfully. She always has it, and I can see her a mile away.
+Usually he carries it, though. Well, I suppose he has a right--as original
+owner. Jim and I smoked together this evening, but he evidently smells a
+mouse. He did not talk much, and I caught him eying me strangely several
+times."
+
+
+MONDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"Dudley has departed. I believe they are on to me. He went to Boston this
+afternoon, and he actually was gruff with me just before leaving. The size
+of the matter is, some one has posted him, and they are all up to my game
+as a spy. I wish I were out of it. Never was so ashamed of a thing in my
+life; don't feel like looking any one in the face. They've all been nice
+to me. But what's the difference? They're all interested. She went to the
+train with him and--the rest of us. I'll never forget how sad she looked
+as she held his hand and bade him good-by. I carried the parasol back to
+the hotel, and I know I hurt her feelings when I maliciously said that it
+would look well with a deep black border. She almost looked a hole through
+me. Fine eyes. I don't know what is coming next. She is liable to slip out
+from under my eye at any time and fly away to meet him somewhere else. I
+telegraphed this message to Grover & Dickhut:
+
+"He has gone. She still here. What shall I do?
+
+"Got this answer:
+
+"Stay there and watch. They suspect you. Don't let her get away.
+
+"But how the devil am I to watch day and night?"
+
+The next week was rather an uneventful one for Rossiter. There was no
+sign of Havens and no effort on her part to leave Eagle Nest.
+
+As the days went by he became more and more vigilant. In fact, his watch
+was incessant and very much of a personal one. He walked and drove with
+her, and he invented all sorts of excuses to avoid Mrs. Van Haltford and
+Miss Crozier. The purple parasol and he had become almost inseparable
+friends. The fear that Havens might return at any time kept him in a fever
+of anxiety and dread. Now that he was beginning to know her for himself he
+could not endure the thought that she cared for another man. Strange to
+say, he did not think of her husband. Old Wharton had completely faded
+from his mind; it was Havens that he envied. He saw himself sinking into
+her net, falling before her wiles, but he did not rebel.
+
+He went to bed each night apprehensive that the next morning should find
+him alone and desolate at Eagle Nest, the bird flown. It hurt him to think
+that she would laugh over her feat of outwitting him. He was not guarding
+her for old Wharton now; he was in his own employ. All this time he knew
+it was wrong, and that she was trifling with him while the other was away.
+Yet he had eyes, ears, and a heart like all men, and they were for none
+save the pretty wife of Godfrey Wharton.
+
+He spoke to her on several occasions of Dudley and gnashed his teeth when
+he saw a look of sadness, even longing, come into her dark eyes. At such
+times he was tempted to tell her that he knew all, to confound her by
+charging her with guilt. But he could not collect the courage. For some
+unaccountable reason he held his bitter tongue. And so it was that
+handsome Sam Rossiter, spy and good fellow, fell in love with a woman who
+had a very dark page in her history.
+
+She received mail, of course, daily, but he was not sneak enough to pry
+into its secrets, even had the chance presented itself. Sometimes she
+tossed the letters away carelessly, but he observed that there were some
+which she guarded jealously.
+
+Once he heard her tell Aunt Josephine that she had a letter from "Jim."
+He began to discover that "Jim" was a forbidden subject and that he was
+not discussed; at least, not in his presence. Many times he saw the two
+women in earnest, rather cautious conversation, and instinctively felt
+that Havens was the subject. Mrs. Wharton appeared piqued and discontented
+after these little talks. He made this entry in his diary one night, a
+week after Havens went away:
+
+"I almost wish he'd come back and end the suspense. This thing is wearing
+on me. I was weighed to-day and I've lost ten pounds. Mrs. Van Haltford
+says I look hungry and advises me to try salt-water air. I'm hanged if I
+don't give up the job this week. I don't like it, anyhow. It doesn't seem
+square to be down here enjoying her society, taking her walking and all
+that, and all the time hunting up something with which to ruin her
+forever. I'll stick the week out, but I'm not decided whether I'll produce
+any evidence against her if the Wharton _vs._ Wharton case ever does
+come to trial. I don't believe I could. I don't want to be a sneak."
+
+One day Rossiter and the purple parasol escorted the pretty trifler over
+the valley to Bald Top, half a mile from the hotel. Mrs. Van Haltford and
+Miss Crozier were to join them later and were to bring with them Colonel
+Deming and Mr. Vincent, two friends who had lately arrived. The hotel was
+rapidly filling with fashionable guests, and Mrs. Wharton had petulantly
+observed, a day or two before, that the place was getting crowded and she
+believed she would go away soon. On the way over she said to him:
+
+"I have about decided to go down to Velvet Springs for the rest of the
+month. Don't you think it is getting rather crowded here?"
+
+"I have been pretty well satisfied," he replied, in an injured tone. "I
+don't see why you should want to leave here."
+
+"Why should I stay if I am tired of the place?" she asked demurely,
+casting a roguish glance at his sombre face. He clenched the parasol and
+grated his teeth.
+
+"She's leading me on, confound her!" he thought. At the same time his
+head whirled and his heart beat a little faster. "You shouldn't," he said,
+"if you are tired. There's more of an attraction at Velvet Springs, I
+suppose."
+
+"Have you been there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You answered rather snappishly. Have you a headache?"
+
+"Pardon me; I didn't intend to answer snappishly, as you call it. I only
+wanted to be brief."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I wanted to change the subject."
+
+"Shall we talk of the weather?"
+
+"I suppose we may as well," he said resignedly. She was plainly laughing
+at him now. "Look here," he said, stopping and looking into her eyes
+intently and somewhat fiercely, "why do you want to go to Velvet Springs?"
+
+"Why should you care where I go?" she answered blithely, although her
+eyes wavered.
+
+"It's because you are unhappy here and because some one else is there.
+I'm not blind, Mrs.--Miss Dering."
+
+"You have no right to talk to me in that manner, Mr. Rollins. Come, we
+are to go back to the hotel at once," she said coldly. There was steel in
+her eyes.
+
+He met her contemptuous look for a moment and quailed.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am a fool, but you have made me such," he said
+baldly.
+
+"I? I do not understand you," and he could not but admire the clever,
+innocent, widespread eyes.
+
+"You will understand me some day," he said, and to his amazement she
+flushed and looked away. They continued their walk, but there was a
+strange shyness in her manner that puzzled him.
+
+"When is Dudley expected back here?" he asked abruptly.
+
+She started sharply and gave him a quick, searching look. There was a
+guilty expression in her eyes, and he muttered something ugly under his
+breath.
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Rollins," she answered.
+
+"When did you hear from him last?" he demanded half savagely.
+
+"I do not intend to be catechized by you, sir," she exclaimed, halting
+abruptly. "We shall go back. You are very ugly to-day and I am surprised."
+
+"I supposed you had letters from him every day," he went on ruthlessly.
+She gave him a look in which he saw pain and the shadow of tears, and then
+she turned and walked swiftly toward the hotel. His conscience smote him
+and he turned after her. For the next ten minutes he was on his knees,
+figuratively, pleading for forgiveness. At last she paused and smiled
+sweetly into his face. Then she calmly turned and resumed the journey to
+Bald Top, saying demurely:
+
+"We have nearly a quarter of a mile to retrace, all because you were so
+hateful."
+
+"And you so obdurate," he added blissfully. He had tried to be severe and
+angry with her and had failed.
+
+That very night the expected came to pass. Havens appeared on the scene,
+the same handsome, tragic-looking fellow, a trifle care-worn perhaps, but
+still--an evil genius. Rossiter ran plump into him in the hallway and was
+speechless for a moment. He unconsciously shook hands with the new
+arrival, but his ears were ringing so with the thuds of his heart that he
+heard but few of the brisk words addressed to him. After the eager actor
+had left him standing humbly in the hall he managed to recall part of what
+had been said. He had come up on the express from Boston and could stay
+but a day or two. Did Mr. Rossiter know whether Miss Dering was in her
+room? The barrister also distinctly remembered that he did not ask for his
+aunt, which would have been the perfectly natural query.
+
+Half an hour later Havens was strolling about the grounds, under the lamp
+lights, in and out of dark nooks, and close beside him was a slim figure
+in white. Their conversation was earnest, their manner secretive; that
+much the harassed Rossiter could see from the balcony. His heart grew sore
+and he could almost feel the tears of disappointment surging to his eyes.
+A glance in his mirror had shown him a face haggard and drawn, eyes
+strange and bright. He had not slept well, he knew; he had worn himself
+out in this despicable watch; he had grown to care for the creature he had
+been hired to spy upon. No wonder he was haggard.
+
+Now he was jealous--madly, fiendishly jealous. In his heart there was the
+savage desire to kill the other man and to denounce the woman. Pacing the
+grounds about the hotel, he soon worked himself into a fever, devilish in
+its hotness. More than once he passed them, and it was all he could do to
+refrain from springing upon them. At length he did what most men do: he
+took a drink. Whisky flew down his throat and to his brain. In his mind's
+eye he saw her in the other's arms--and he could bear it no longer!
+Rushing to his room, he threw himself on the bed and cursed.
+
+"Good heaven! I love her! I love her better than all the world! I can't
+stay here and see any more of it! By thunder, I'll go back to New York and
+they can go to the devil! So can old Wharton! And so can Grover & Dickhut!"
+
+He leaped to his feet, dashed headlong to the telegraph office
+downstairs, and ten minutes later this message was flying to Grover &
+Dickhut:
+
+Get some one else for this job. I'm done with it. Coming home.--SAM.
+
+"I'm coming on the first train, too," muttered the sender, as he hurried
+up-stairs. "I can pack my trunk for the night stage. I'd like to say
+good-by to her, but I can't--I couldn't stand it. What's the difference?
+She won't care whether I go or stay--rather have me go. If I were to meet
+her now I'd--yes, by George--kiss her! It's wrong to love her, but--"
+
+There was nothing dignified about the manner in which big Sam Rossiter
+packed his trunk. He fairly stamped the clothing into it and did a lot of
+other absurd things. When he finally locked it and yanked out his watch
+his brow was wet and he was trembling. It had taken just five minutes to
+do the packing. His hat was on the back of his head, his collar was
+melting, and his cigar was chewed to a pulp. Cane and umbrella were yanked
+from behind the door and he was ready to fly. The umbrella made him think
+of a certain parasol, and his heart grew still and cold with the knowledge
+that he was never to carry it again.
+
+"I hope I don't meet any of 'em," he muttered, pulling himself together
+and rushing into the hall. A porter had already jerked his trunk down the
+stair steps.
+
+As he hastened after it he heard the swish of skirts and detected in the
+air a familiar odor, the subtle scent of a perfume that he could not
+forget were he to live a thousand years. The next moment she came swiftly
+around a corner in the hall, hurrying to her rooms. They met and both
+started in surprise, her eyes falling to his travelling-bag, and then
+lifting to his face in bewilderment. He checked his hurried flight and she
+came quite close to him. The lights in the hall were dim and the elevator
+car had dropped to regions below.
+
+"Where are you going?" she asked in some agitation.
+
+"I am going back to New York," he answered, controlling himself with an
+effort. She was so beautiful, there in the dim hallway.
+
+"To-night?" she asked in very low tones.
+
+"In half an hour."
+
+"And were you going without saying good-by to--to us?" she went on rapidly.
+
+He looked steadily down into her solemn eyes for a moment and an
+expression of pain, of longing, came into his own.
+
+"It couldn't make any difference whether I said good-by to you, and it
+would have been hard," he replied unsteadily.
+
+"Hard? I don't understand you," she said.
+
+"I didn't want to see you. Yes, I hoped to get away before you knew
+anything about it. Maybe it was cowardly, but it was the best way," he
+cried bitterly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried, and he detected alarm, confusion, guilt in
+her manner.
+
+"You know what I mean. I know everything--I knew it before I came here,
+before I saw you. It's why I am here, I'm ashamed to say. But, have no
+fear--have no fear! I've given up the job--the nasty job--and you can do
+as you please. The only trouble is that I have been caught in the web;
+I've been trapped myself. You've made me care for you. That's why I'm
+giving it all up. Don't look so frightened--I'll promise to keep your
+secret."
+
+Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, but no words came; she seemed to
+shrink from him as if he were the headsman and she his victim.
+
+"I'll do it, right or wrong!" he gasped suddenly. And in an instant his
+satchel clattered to the floor and his arms were straining the slight
+figure to his breast. Burning lips met hers and sealed them tight. She
+shivered violently, struggled for an instant in his mad embrace, but made
+no outcry. Gradually her free arm stole upward and around his neck and her
+lips responded to the passion in his. His kiss of ecstasy was returned.
+The thrill of joy that shot through him was almost overpowering. A dozen
+times he kissed her. Unbelieving, he held her from him and looked hungrily
+into her eyes. They were wet with tears.
+
+"Why do you go? I love you!" she whispered faintly.
+
+Then came the revulsion. With an oath he threw her from him. Her hands
+went to her temples and a moan escaped her lips.
+
+"Bah!" he snarled. "Get away from me! Heaven forgive me for being as weak
+as I've been to-night!"
+
+"Sam!" she wailed piteously.
+
+"Don't tell me anything! Don't try to explain! Be honest with one man, at
+least!"
+
+"You must be insane!" she cried tremulously.
+
+"Don't play innocent, madam. I _know_." In abject terror she shrank
+away from him. "But I have kissed you! If I live a thousand years I shall
+not forget its sweetness."
+
+He waved his hands frantically above her, grabbed up his suit-case and
+traps, and, with one last look at the petrified woman shrinking against
+the wall under the blasts of his vituperation, he dashed for the stairway.
+And so he left her, a forlorn, crushed figure.
+
+Blindly he tore downstairs and to the counter. He hardly knew what he was
+doing as he drew forth his pocket-book to pay his account.
+
+"Going away, Mr. Rollins?" inquired the clerk, glancing at the clock. It
+was eleven-twenty and the last stage-coach left for Fossingford at
+eleven-thirty, in time to catch the seven o'clock down train.
+
+"Certainly," was the excited answer.
+
+"A telegram came a few moments ago for you, sir, but I thought you were
+in bed," and the other tossed a little envelope out to him. Mechanically
+Rossiter tore it open. He was thinking of the cowering woman in the
+hallway and he was cursing himself for his brutality.
+
+He read the despatch with dizzy eyes and drooping jaw, once, twice,
+thrice. Then he leaned heavily against the counter and a coldness assailed
+his heart, so bitter that he felt his blood freezing. It read:
+
+What have you been doing? The people you were sent to watch sailed for
+Europe ten days ago.
+
+       GROVER & DICKHUT.
+
+The paper fell from his trembling fingers, but he regained it, natural
+instinct inspiring a fear that the clerk would read it.
+
+"Good Lord!" he gasped.
+
+"Bad news, Mr. Rollins?" asked the clerk sympathetically, but the
+stricken, bewildered man did not answer.
+
+What did it mean? A vast faintness attacked him as the truth began to
+penetrate. Out of the whirling mystery came the astounding, ponderous
+realization that he had blundered, that he had wronged her, that he had
+accused her of--Oh, that dear, stricken figure in the hallway above!
+
+He leaped to the staircase. Three steps at a time he flew back to the
+scene of the miserable tragedy. What he thought, what he felt as he rushed
+into the hallway can only be imagined. She was gone--heartbroken, killed!
+And she had kissed him and said she loved him!
+
+A light shone through the transoms over the doors that led into her
+apartments. Quaking with fear, he ran down the hall and beat a violent
+tattoo upon her parlor door. Again he rapped, crazed by remorse, fear,
+love, pity, shame, and a hundred other emotions.
+
+"Who is it?" came in stifled tones from within.
+
+"It is I--Rossiter--I mean Rollins! I must see you--now! For pity's sake,
+let me in!"
+
+"How dare you--" she began shrilly; but he was not to be denied.
+
+"If you don't open this door I'll kick it in!" he shouted. "I must see
+you!"
+
+After a moment the door flew open and he stood facing her. She was like a
+queen. Her figure was as straight as an arrow, her eyes blazing. But there
+had been tears in them a moment before.
+
+"Another insult!" she exclaimed, and the scorn in her voice was
+withering. He paused abashed, for the first time realizing that he had
+hurt her beyond reparation. His voice faltered and the tears flew to his
+eyes.
+
+"I don't know what to say to you. It has been a mistake--a frightful
+mistake--and I don't know whether you'll let me explain. When I got
+downstairs I found this telegram and--for heaven's sake, let me tell you
+the wretched story. Don't turn away from me! You shall listen to me if I
+have to hold you!" His manner changed suddenly to the violent, imperious
+forcefulness of a man driven to the last resort.
+
+"Must I call for help?" she cried, thoroughly alarmed, once more the weak
+woman, face to face, as she thought, with an insane man.
+
+"I love you better than my own life, and I've hurt you terribly. I'm not
+crazy, Helen! But I've been a fool, and I'll go crazy if you don't give me
+a chance to explain."
+
+Whether she gave the chance or no he took it, and from his eager,
+pleading lips raced the whole story of his connection with the Wharton
+affair from first to last.
+
+He humbled himself, accused himself, ridiculed himself, and wound up by
+throwing himself upon her mercy, uttering protestations of the love which
+had really been his undoing.
+
+She heard him through without a word. The light in her eyes changed; the
+fear left them and the scorn fled. Instead there grew, by stages, wonder,
+incredulity, wavering doubt and--joy. She understood him and she loved
+him! The awful horror of that meeting in the hallway was swept away like
+unto the transformation scene in the fairy spectacle.
+
+When he fell upon his knee and sought to clasp her fingers in his cold
+hand she smiled, and, stooping over, placed both hands on his cheeks and
+kissed him.
+
+What followed her kiss of forgiveness may be more easily imagined than
+told.
+
+"You see it was perfectly natural for me to mistake you for Mrs.
+Wharton," he said after awhile. "You had the gray jacket, the sailor hat,
+the purple parasol, and you are beautiful. And, besides all that, you were
+found red-handed in that ridiculous town of Fossingford. Why shouldn't I
+have suspected you with such a preponderance of evidence against you?
+Anybody who would get off of a night train in Fossingford certainly ought
+to be ashamed of something."
+
+"But Fossingford is on the map, isn't it? One has a perfect right to get
+off where she likes, hasn't she, provided it is on the map?"
+
+"Not at all! That's what maps are for: to let you see where you don't get
+off."
+
+"But I was obliged to get off there. My ticket said 'Fossingford,' and,
+besides, I was to be met at the station in a most legitimate manner. You
+had no right to jump at conclusions."
+
+"Well, if you had not descended to earth at Fossingford I wouldn't be in
+heaven at Eagle Nest. Come to think of it, I believe you did quite the
+proper thing in getting off at Fossingford--no matter what the hour."
+
+"You must remember always that I have not taken you to task for a most
+flagrant piece of--shall I say indiscretion?"
+
+"Good Heavens!"
+
+"You stopped off at Fossingford for the sole purpose of seeing another
+woman."
+
+"That's all very fine, dear, but you'll admit that Dudley was an
+excellent substitute for Havens. Can't you see how easy it was to be
+mistaken?"
+
+"I won't fall into easy submission. Still, I believe I could recommend
+you as a detective. They usually do the most unheard of things--just as
+you have. Poor Jim Dudley an actor! Mistaken for such a man as you say
+Havens is! It is even more ridiculous than that I should be mistaken for
+Mrs. Wharton."
+
+"Say, I'd like to know something about Dudley. It was his confounded
+devotion to you that helped matters along in my mind. What is he to you?"
+
+"He came here to-night to repeat a question that had been answered
+unalterably once before. Jim Dudley? Have you never heard of James Dudley,
+the man who owns all of those big mines in South America, the man who--"
+
+"Who owns the yachts and automobiles and--and the railroad trains? Is he
+the one? The man with the millions? Good Lord! And you could have had him
+instead of me? Helen, I--I don't understand it. Why didn't you take him?"
+
+She hesitated a moment before answering brightly:
+
+"Perhaps it is because I have a fancy for the ridiculous."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon
+
+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
+
+
+Title: The Purple Parasol
+
+Author: George Barr McCutcheon
+
+Posting Date: April 12, 2013 [EBook #6575]
+Release Date: September, 2004
+First Posted: December 29, 2002
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PARASOL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Avinash Kothare, Charles Aldarondo and the
+On-line Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PURPLE PARASOL
+
+
+GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
+
+
+
+
+THE PURPLE PARASOL
+
+
+
+
+Young Rossiter did not like the task. The more he thought of it as he
+whirled northward on the Empire State Express the more distasteful it
+seemed to grow.
+
+"Hang it all," he thought, throwing down his magazine in disgust, "it's
+like police work. And heaven knows I haven't wanted to be a cop since we
+lived in Newark twenty years ago. Why the dickens did old Wharton marry
+her? He's an old ass, and he's getting just what he might have expected.
+She's twenty-five and beautiful; he's seventy and a sight. I've a notion
+to chuck the whole affair and go back to the simple but virtuous
+Tenderloin. It's not my sort, that's all, and I was an idiot for mixing in
+it. The firm served me a shabby trick when it sent me out to work up this
+case for Wharton. It's a regular Peeping Tom Job, and I don't like it."
+
+It will require but few words to explain Sam Rossiter's presence in the
+north-bound Empire Express, but it would take volumes to express his
+feelings on the subject in general. Back in New York there lived Godfrey
+Wharton, millionaire and septuagenarian. For two years he had been husband
+to one of the prettiest, gayest young women in the city, and in the latter
+days of this responsibility he was not a happy man. His wife had fallen
+desperately, even conspicuously, in love with Everett Havens, the new
+leading man at one of the fashionable playhouses. The affair had been
+going on for weeks, and it had at last become the talk of the town. By
+"the town" is meant that vague, expansive thing known as the "Four
+Hundred." Sam Rossiter, two years out of Yale, was an attachment to, but
+not a component part of, the Four Hundred. The Whartons were of the inner
+circle.
+
+Young Rossiter was ambitious. He was, besides, keen, aggressive, and
+determined to make well for himself. Entering the great law offices of
+Grover & Dickhut immediately after leaving college, he devoted himself
+assiduously to the career in prospect. He began by making its foundation
+as substantial as brains and energy would permit. So earnest, so
+successful was he that Grover & Dickhut regarded him as the most promising
+young man in New York. They predicted a great future for him, no small
+part of which was the ultimate alteration of an office shingle, the name
+of Rossiter going up in gilt, after that of Dickhut. And, above all,
+Rossiter was a handsome, likable chap. Tall, fair, sunny-hearted, well
+groomed, he was a fellow that both sexes liked without much effort.
+
+The Wharton trouble was bound to prove startling any way one looked at
+it. The prominence of the family, the baldness of its skeleton, and the
+gleeful eagerness with which it danced into full view left but little for
+meddlers to covet. A crash was inevitable; it was the _clash_ that
+Grover & Dickhut were trying to avert. Old Wharton, worn to a slimmer
+frazzle than he had ever been before his luckless marriage, was determined
+to divorce his insolent younger half. It was to be done with as little
+noise as possible, more for his own sake than for hers. Wharton was proud
+in, not of, his weakness.
+
+It became necessary to "shadow" the fair debutante into matrimony. After
+weeks of indecision Mr. Wharton finally arose and swore in accents
+terrible that she was going too far to be called back. He determined to
+push, not to pull, on the reins. Grover & Dickhut were commanded to get
+the "evidence"; he would pay. When he burst in upon them and cried in his
+cracked treble that "the devil's to pay," he did not mean to cast any
+aspersion upon the profession in general or particular. He was annoyed.
+
+"She's going away next week," he exclaimed, as if the lawyers were to
+blame for it.
+
+"Well, and what of it?" asked Mr. Grover blandly.
+
+"Up into the mountains," went on Mr. Wharton triumphantly.
+
+"Is it against the law?" smiled the old lawyer.
+
+"Confound the law! I don't object to her going up into the mountains for
+a rest, but--"
+
+"It's much too hot in town for her, I fancy."
+
+"How's that?" querulously. "But I've just heard that that scoundrel
+Havens is going to the mountains also."
+
+"The same mountain?"
+
+"Certainly. I have absolute proof of it. Now, something has to be done!"
+
+And so it was that the promising young lawyer, Samuel W. Rossiter, Jr.,
+was sent northward into the Adirondacks one hot summer day with
+instructions to be tactful but thorough. He had never seen Mrs. Wharton,
+nor had he seen Havens. There was no time to look up these rather
+important details, for he was off to intercept her at the little station
+from which one drove by coach to the quiet summer hotel among the clouds.
+She was starting the same afternoon. He found himself wondering whether
+this petted butterfly of fashion had ever seen him, and, seeing him, had
+been sufficiently interested to inquire, "Who is that tall fellow with the
+light hair?" It would be difficult to perform the duties assigned to him
+if either she or Havens knew him for what he was. His pride would have
+been deeply wounded if he had known that Grover & Dickhut recommended him
+to Wharton as "obscure."
+
+"They say she is a howling beauty as well as a swell," reflected
+Rossiter, as the miles and minutes went swinging by. "And that's something
+to be thankful for. One likes novelty, especially if it's feminine. Well,
+I'm out for the sole purpose of saving a million or so for old Wharton,
+and to save as much of her reputation as I can besides. With the proof in
+hand the old duffer can scare her out of any claim against his bank
+account, and she shall have the absolute promise of 'no exposure' in
+return. Isn't it lovely? Well, here's Albany. Now for the dinky road up to
+Fossingford Station. I have an hour's wait here. She's coming on the
+afternoon train and gets to Fossingford at eleven-ten to-night. That's a
+dickens of a time for a young woman to be arriving anywhere, to say
+nothing of Fossingford."
+
+Loafing about the depot at Albany, Rossiter kept a close lookout for Mrs.
+Wharton as he pictured her from the description he carried in his mind's
+eye. Her venerable husband informed him that she was sure to wear a white
+shirt-waist, a gray skirt, and a Knox sailor hat, because her maid had
+told him so in a huff. But he was to identify her chiefly by means of a
+handsome and oddly trimmed parasol of deep purple. Wharton had every
+reason to suspect that it was a present from Havens, and therefore to be
+carried more for sentiment than protection.
+
+A telegram awaited him at Fossingford Station. Fossingford was so small
+and unsophisticated that the arrival of a telegraphic message that did not
+relate to the movement of railroad trains was an "occasion." Everybody in
+town knew that a message had come for Samuel Rossiter, and everybody was
+at the depot to see that he got it. The station agent had inquired at the
+"eating-house" for the gentleman, and that was enough. With the eyes of a
+Fossingford score or two upon him, Rossiter read the despatch from Grover
+& Dickhut.
+
+"Too bad, ain't it?" asked the agent, compassionately regarding the
+newcomer. Evidently the contents were supposed to be disappointing.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," replied Rossiter easily. But just the same he was
+troubled in mind as he walked over and sat down upon his steamer trunk in
+the shade of the building. The telegram read:
+
+"She left New York five-thirty this evening. Stops over night Albany.
+Fossingford to-morrow morning. Watch trains. Purple parasol. Sailor hat.
+Gray travelling suit.
+
+"G. and D."
+
+It meant that he would be obliged to stay in Fossingford all night--but
+where? A general but comprehensive glance did not reveal anything that
+looked like a hotel. He thought of going back to Albany for the night, but
+it suddenly occurred to him that she might not stop in that city, after
+all. Pulling his wits together, he saw things with a new clearness of
+vision. Ostensibly she had announced her intention to spend the month at
+Eagle Nest, an obscure but delightful hotel in the hills; but did that
+really mean that she would go there? It was doubtless a ruse to throw the
+husband off the track. There were scores of places in the mountains, and
+it was more than probable that she would give Eagle Nest a wide berth.
+Rossiter patted his bump of perceptiveness and smiled serenely until he
+came plump up against the realization that she might not come by way of
+Fossingford at all, or, in any event, she might go whisking through to
+some station farther north. His speculations came to an end in the shape
+of a distressing resolution. He would remain in Fossingford and watch the
+trains go by!
+
+After he had dashed through several early evening trains, the cheerful,
+philosophical smile of courage left his face and trouble stared from his
+eyes. He saw awkward prospects ahead. Suppose she were to pass through on
+one of the late night trains! He could not rush through the sleepers, even
+though the trains stopped in Fossingford for water.
+
+Besides, she could not be identified by means of a gray suit, a sailor
+hat, and a purple parasol if they were tucked away in the berth. At eleven
+o'clock he was pacing the little depot platform, waiting for the
+eleven-ten train, the last he was to inspect for the night. He had eaten
+a scanty meal at the restaurant nearby, and was still mad about it. The
+station agent slept soundly at his post, and all the rest of the town had
+gone to bed.
+
+The train pulled in and out again, leaving him at the far end of the
+platform, mopping his harassed brow. He had visited the chair-cars and had
+seen no one answering the description. A half-dozen passengers huddled off
+and wandered away in the darkness.
+
+"I'll bet my head she's in one of those sleepers," he groaned, as he
+watched the lights on the rear coach fade away into the night. "It's all
+off till to-morrow, that's settled. My only hope is that she really
+stopped in Albany. There's a train through here at three in the morning;
+but I'm not detective enough to unravel the mystery of any woman's berth.
+Now, where the deuce am _I_ to sleep?"
+
+As he looked about dismally, disconsolately, his hands deep in his
+pockets, his straw hat pulled low over his sleepy eyes, the station agent
+came up to him with a knowing grin on his face.
+
+"'Scuse me, boss, but she's come," he said, winking.
+
+"She? Who?"
+
+"Her. The young lady. Sure! She's lookin' fer you over in the
+waitin'-room. You mus' 'a' missed her when she got off--thought she
+wasn't comin' up till to-morrer. Mus' 'a' changed her mind. That's
+a woming all over, ain't it?"
+
+Rossiter felt himself turn hot and cold. His head began to whirl and his
+courage went fluttering away. Here was a queer complication. The quarry
+hunting for the sleuth, instead of the reverse. He fanned himself with his
+hat for one brief, uncertain moment, dazed beyond belief. Then he
+resolutely strode over to face the situation, trusting to luck to keep him
+from blundering his game into her hands. Just as he was about to put his
+foot upon the lamp-lit door-sill the solution struck him like a blow. She
+was expecting Havens to meet her!
+
+There was but one woman in the room, and she was approaching the door
+with evident impatience as he entered. Both stopped short, she with a look
+of surprise, which changed to annoyance and then crept into an nervous,
+apologetic little smile; he with an unsuppressed ejaculation. She wore a
+gray skirt, a white waist, and a sailor hat, and she was surpassingly good
+to look at even in the trying light from the overhead lamp. Instinctively
+his eye swept over her. She carried on her arm the light gray jacket, and
+in one hand was the tightly rolled parasol of--he impertinently craned his
+neck to see--of purple! Mr. Rossiter was face to face with the woman he
+was to dog for a month, and he was flabbergasted. Even as he stopped,
+puzzled, before her, contemplating retreat, she spoke to him.
+
+"Did that man send you to me?" she asked nervously, looking through the
+door beyond and then through a window at his right, quite puzzled, he
+could see.
+
+"He did, and I was sure he was mistaken. I knew of no one in this
+God-forsaken place who could be asking for me," said he, collecting his
+wits carefully and herding them into that one sentence. "But perhaps I
+can help you. Will you tell me whom I am to look for?"
+
+"It is strange he is not here," she said a little breathlessly. "I wired
+him just what train to expect me on."
+
+"Your husband?" ventured he admirably.
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" said she quickly.
+
+"I wish she'd wired me what train to expect her on," thought he grimly.
+"She doesn't know me. That's good. She was expecting Havens and he's
+missed connections somehow," shot rapidly through his brain. At the same
+time he was thinking of her as the prettiest woman he had seen in all his
+life. Then aloud: "I'll look on the platform. Maybe he's lost in this
+great city. What name shall I call out?"
+
+"Please don't call very loudly. You'll wake the dead," she said, with a
+pathetic smile. "It's awfully good of you. He may come at any minute, you
+know. His name is--is"--she hesitated for a second, and then went on
+determinedly--"Dudley. Tall, dark man. I don't know how I shall thank you.
+It's so very awkward."
+
+Rossiter darted from her glorious but perplexed presence. He had never
+seen Havens, but he was sure he could recognize an actor if he saw him in
+Fossingford. And he would call him Dudley, too. It would be wise. The
+search was fruitless. The only tall, dark object he saw was the mailcrane
+at the edge of the platform, but he facetiously asked if its name was
+Dudley. Receiving no answer, he turned back to cast additional woe into
+the heart of the pretty intriguer. She was standing in the door, despair
+in her eyes. Somehow he was pleased because he had not found the wretch.
+She was so fair to look upon and so appealing in her distress.
+
+"You couldn't find him? What am I to do? Oh, isn't it awful? He promised
+to be here."
+
+"Perhaps he's at a hotel."
+
+"In Fossingford?" in deep disgust. "There's no hotel here. He was to
+drive me to the home of a friend out in the country." Rossiter leaned
+against the wall suddenly. There was a long silence. He could not find his
+tongue, but his eyes were burning deep into the plaintive blue ones that
+looked up into his face.
+
+"I'll ask the agent," he said at last.
+
+"Ask him what?" she cried anxiously.
+
+"If he's been here. No, I'll ask if there's a place where you can sleep
+to-night. Mr. Dudley will surely turn up to-morrow."
+
+"But I couldn't sleep a wink. I feel like crying my eyes out," she wailed.
+
+"Don't do that!" exclaimed he, in alarm. "I'll take another look outside."
+
+"Please don't. He is not here. Will you please tell me what I am to
+do?"--very much as if it was his business to provide for her in the hour
+of need.
+
+Rossiter promptly awoke the agent and asked him where a room could be
+procured for the lady. Doxie's boarding-house was the only place,
+according to the agent, and it was full to overflowing. Besides, they
+would not "take in" strange women.
+
+"She can sleep here in the waiting-room," suggested the agent. "They'll
+let you sleep in the parlor over at Doxie's, mister--maybe."
+
+Rossiter did not have the heart to tell her all that the agent said. He
+merely announced that there was no hotel except the depot waiting-room.
+
+"By the way, does Mr. Dudley live out in the country?" he asked
+insidiously. She flushed and then looked at him narrowly.
+
+"No. He's visiting his uncle up here."
+
+"Funny he missed you."
+
+"It's terribly annoying," she said coldly. Then she walked away from him
+as if suddenly conscious that she should not be conversing with a
+good-looking stranger at such a time and place and under such peculiar
+circumstances. He withdrew to the platform and his own reflections.
+
+"He's an infernal cad for not meeting her," he found himself saying, her
+pretty, distressed face still before him. "I don't care a rap whether
+she's doing right or wrong--she's game. Still, she's a blamed little fool
+to be travelling up here on such an outlandish train. So he's visiting an
+uncle, eh? Then the chances are they're not going to Eagle Nest. Lucky I
+waited here--I'd have lost them entirely if I'd gone back to Albany. But
+where the deuce is she to sleep till morn--" He heard rapid footsteps
+behind him and turned to distinguish Mrs. Wharton as she approached dimly
+but gracefully. The air seemed full of her.
+
+"Oh, Mr.--Mr.--" she was saying eagerly.
+
+"Rollins."
+
+"Isn't there a later train, Mr. Rollins?"
+
+"I'll ask the agent."
+
+"There's the flyer at three-thirty A. M.," responded the sleepy agent a
+minute later.
+
+"I'll just sit up and wait for it," she said coolly. "He has got the
+trains confused."
+
+"Good heavens! Till three-thirty?"
+
+"But my dear Mr. Rollins, you won't be obliged to sit up, you know.
+You're not expecting any one, are you?"
+
+"N-no, of course not."
+
+"By the way, why _are_ you staying up?" He was sure he detected
+alarm in the question. She was suspecting him!
+
+"I have nowhere to go, Miss--Mrs.--er--" She merely smiled and he said
+something under his breath. "I'm waiting for the eight o'clock train."
+
+"How lovely! What time will the three-thirty train get here, agent?"
+
+"At half-past three, I reckon. But she don't stop here!"
+
+"Oh, goodness! Can't you flag it--her, I mean?"
+
+"What's the use?" asked Rossiter. "He's not coming on it, is he?"
+
+"That's so. He's coming in a buggy. You needn't mind flagging her, agent."
+
+"Well, say, I'd like to lock up the place," grumbled the agent. "There's
+no more trains to-night but Number Seventeen, and she don't even whistle
+here. I can't set up here all night."
+
+"Oh, you wouldn't lock me out in the night, would you?" she cried in such
+pretty despair that he faltered.
+
+"I got to git home to my wife. She's--"
+
+"That's all right, agent," broke in Rossiter hastily. "I'll take your
+place as agent. Leave the doors open and I'll go on watch. I have to stay
+up anyway."
+
+There was a long silence. He did not know whether she was freezing or
+warming toward him, because he dared not look into her eyes.
+
+"I don't know who you are," she said distinctly but plaintively. It was
+very dark out there on the platform and the night air was growing cold.
+
+"It is the misfortune of obscurity," he said mockingly. "I am a most
+humble wayfarer on his way to the high hills. If it will make you feel any
+more comfortable, madam, I will say that I don't know who you are. So, you
+see, we are in the same boat. You are waiting for a man and I am waiting
+for daylight. I sincerely trust you may not have as long to wait as I.
+Believe me, I regard myself as a gentleman. You are quite as safe with me
+as you will be with the agent, or with Mr.--Mr. Dudley, for that matter."
+
+"You may go home to your wife, Mr. Agent," she said promptly. "Mr.
+Rollins will let the trains through, I'm sure."
+
+The agent stalked away in the night and the diminutive station was left
+to the mercy of the wayfarers.
+
+"And now, Mr. Rollins, you may go over in that corner and stretch out on
+the bench. It will be springless, I know, but I fancy you can sleep. I
+will call you for the--for breakfast."
+
+"I'm hanged if you do. On the contrary, I'm going to do my best to fix a
+comfortable place for you to take a nap. I'll call you when Mr. Dudley
+comes."
+
+"It's most provoking of him," she said, as he began rummaging through his
+steamer trunk. "What are you doing?"
+
+"Hunting out something to make over into a mattress. You don't mind
+napping on my clothes, do you? Here's a soft suit of flannels, a heavy
+suit of cheviot, a dress suit, a spring coat, and a raincoat. I can rig up
+a downy couch in no time if--"
+
+"Ridiculous! Do you imagine that I'm going to sleep on your best clothes?
+I'm going to sit up."
+
+"You'll have to do as I say, madam, or be turned out of the hotel," said
+he, with an infectious grin.
+
+"But I insist upon your lying down. You have no reason for doing this for
+me. Besides, I'm going to sit up. Good-night!"
+
+"You are tired and ready to cry," he said, calmly going on with his
+preparations. She stood off defiantly and watched him pile his best
+clothes into a rather comfortable-looking heap on one of the long benches.
+"Now, if you don't mind, I'll make a pillow of these negligee shirts.
+They're soft, you know."
+
+"Stop! I refuse to accept your--" she was protesting.
+
+"Do you want me to leave you here all alone?" he demanded. "With the
+country full of tramps and--"
+
+"Don't! It's cowardly of you to frighten me. They say the railroads are
+swarming with tramps, too. Won't you please go and see if Mr. Dudley is
+anywhere in sight?"
+
+"It was mean of me, I confess. Please lie down. It's getting cold. Pull
+this raincoat over yourself. I'll walk out and--"
+
+"Oh, but you are a determined person. And very foolish, too. Why should
+you lose a lot of sleep just for me when--?"
+
+"There is no reason why two men should fail you to-night, Mrs.--Miss--"
+
+"Miss Dering," she said, humbled.
+
+"When you choose to retire, Miss Dering, you will find your room quite
+ready," he said with fine gallantry, bowing low as he stood in the
+doorway. "I will be just outside on the platform, so don't be uneasy."
+
+He quickly faded into the night, leaving her standing there, petulant,
+furious, yet with admiration in her eyes. Ten minutes later he heard her
+call. She was sitting on the edge of the improvised couch, smiling
+sweetly, even timidly.
+
+"It must be cold out there. You must wear this."
+
+She came toward him, the raincoat in one hand, the purple parasol in the
+other. He took the parasol only and departed without a word. She gasped
+and would have called after him, but there was no use. With a perplexed
+frown and smile she went slowly, dubiously toward the folded bed.
+
+Rossiter smoked three cigars and walked two miles up and down the
+platform, swinging the parasol absent-mindedly, before he ventured to look
+inside the room again. In that time he had asked and answered many
+questions in his mind. He saw that it would be necessary to change his
+plans if he was to watch her successfully. She evidently gave out Eagle
+Nest to blind her husband. Somehow he was forgetting that the task before
+him was disagreeable and undignified. What troubled him most was how to
+follow them if Havens--or Dudley--put in an appearance for the
+three-thirty train. He began to curse Everett Havens softly but potently.
+
+When he looked into the waiting-room she was sound asleep on the bench.
+It delighted him to see that she had taken him at his word and was lying
+upon his clothes. Cautiously he took a seat on the door-sill. The night
+was as still as death and as lonesome as the grave. For half an hour he
+sat gazing upon the tired, pretty face and the lithe young figure of the
+sleeper. He found himself dreaming, although he was wide awake--never more
+so. It occurred to him that he would be immensely pleased to hear that
+Havens's reason for failing her was due to an accident in which he had
+been killed.
+
+"Those clothes will have to be pressed the first thing to-morrow," he
+said to himself, but without a trace of annoyance. "Hang it all, she
+doesn't look like that sort of woman," his mind switched. "But just think
+of being tied up to an old crocodile like Wharton! Gee! One oughtn't to
+blame her!"
+
+Then he went forth into the night once more and listened for the sound of
+buggy wheels. It was almost time for the arrival of the belated man from
+the country, and he was beginning to pray that he would not appear at all.
+It came to his mind that he should advise her to return to New York in the
+morning. At last his watch told him that the train was due to pass in five
+minutes. And still no buggy! Good! He felt an exhilaration that threatened
+to break into song.
+
+Softly he stole back into the waiting-room, prepared to awaken her before
+the train shot by. Something told him that the rumble and roar would
+terrify her if she were asleep. Going quite close to her he bent forward
+and looked long and sadly upon the perfect face. Her hair was somewhat
+disarranged, her hat had a very hopeless tilt, her lashes swept low over
+the smooth cheek, but there was an almost imperceptible choke in her
+breathing. In her small white hand she clasped a handkerchief tightly,
+and--yes, he was sure of it--there were tear-stains beneath her lashes.
+There came to him the faint sob which lingers long in the breath of one
+who has cried herself to sleep. The spy passed his hand over his brow,
+sighed, shook his head and turned away irresolutely. He remembered that
+she was waiting for a man who was not her husband.
+
+Far down the track a bright star came shooting toward Fossingford. He
+knew it to be the headlight of the flyer. With a breath of relief he saw
+that he was the only human being on the platform. Havens had failed again.
+This time he approached the recumbent one determinedly. She was awake the
+instant he touched her shoulder.
+
+"Oh," she murmured, sitting erect and looking about, bewildered. "Is
+it--has he--oh, you are still here? Has he come?"
+
+"No, Miss Dering, he is not here," and added, under his breath, "damn
+him!" Then aloud, "The train is coming."
+
+"And he didn't come?" she almost wailed.
+
+"I fancy you'd better try to sleep until morning. There's nothing to stay
+awake for," although it came with a pang.
+
+"Absolutely nothing," she murmured, and his pride took a respectful tumble.
+
+As she began to rearrange her hair, rather clumsily spoiling a charming
+effect, he remonstrated.
+
+"Don't bother about your hair." She looked at him in wonder for an
+instant, a little smile finally creeping to her lips. He felt that she
+understood something. "Maybe he'll come after all," he added quickly.
+
+"What are you doing with my parasol?" she asked sleepily.
+
+"I'm carrying it to establish your identity with Dudley if he happens to
+come. He'll recognize the purple parasol, you know."
+
+"Oh, I see," she said dubiously. "He gave it to me for a birthday present."
+
+"I knew it," he muttered.
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean I knew he'd recognize it," he explained.
+
+The flyer shot through Fossingford at that juncture, a long line of
+roaring shadows. There was silence between them until the rumble was lost
+in the distance.
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd like to go out on the platform for awhile," she
+said finally, resignation in her eyes. "Perhaps he's out there, wondering
+why the train didn't stop."
+
+"It's cold out there. Just slip into my coat, Miss Dering." He held the
+raincoat for her, and she mechanically slipped her arms into the sleeves.
+She shivered, but smiled sweetly up at him.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Rollins, you are very thoughtful and very kind to me."
+
+They walked out into the darkness. After a turn or two in silence she
+took the arm he proffered. He admired the bravery with which she was
+trying to convince him that she was not so bitterly disappointed. When she
+finally spoke her voice was soft and cool, just as a woman's always is
+before the break.
+
+"He was to have taken me to his uncle's house, six miles up in the
+country. His aunt and a young lady from the South, with Mr. Dudley and me,
+are to go to Eagle Nest to-morrow for a month."
+
+"How very odd," he said with well-assumed surprise. "I, too, am going to
+Eagle Nest for a month or so."
+
+She stopped stock-still, and he could feel that she was staring at him
+hardly.
+
+"You are going there?" she half whispered.
+
+"They say it is a quiet, restful place," he said. "One reaches it by
+stage over-land, I believe." She was strangely silent during the remainder
+of the walk. Somehow he felt amazingly sorry for her. "I hope I may see
+something of you while we are there," he said at last.
+
+"I imagine I couldn't help it if I were to try," she said. They were in
+the path of the light from the window, and he saw the strange little smile
+on her face. "I think I'll lie down again. Won't you find a place to
+sleep, Mr. Rollins? I can't bear the thought of depriving you--"
+
+"I am the slave of your darkness," he said gravely.
+
+She left him, and he lit another cigar. Daylight came at last to break up
+his thoughts, and then his tired eyes began to look for the man and buggy.
+Fatigued and weary, he sat upon his steamer trunk, his back to the wall.
+There he fell sound asleep.
+
+He was awakened by some one shaking him gently by the shoulder.
+
+"You are a very sound sleeper, Mr. Rollins," said a familiar voice, but
+it was gay and sprightly. He looked up blankly, and it was a full
+half-minute before he could get his bearings.
+
+A young woman with a purple parasol stood beside him, laughing merrily,
+and at her side was a tall, dark, very good-looking young man.
+
+"I couldn't go without saying good-by to you, Mr. Rollins, and thanking
+you again for the care you have taken of me," she was saying. He finally
+saw the little gloved hand that was extended toward him. Her companion was
+carrying her jacket and the little travelling-bag.
+
+"Oh--er--good-by, and don't mention it," he stammered, struggling to his
+feet. "Was I asleep?"
+
+"Asleep at your post, sir. Mr. Dudley--oh, this is Mr. Dudley, Mr.
+Rollins--came in ten minutes ago and found--us--both--asleep."
+
+"Isn't it lucky Mr. Dudley happens to be an honest man?" said Rossiter,
+in a manner so strange that the smile froze on the face of the other man.
+The unhappy barrister caught the quick glance that passed between them,
+and was vaguely convinced that they had been discussing him while he
+slept. Something whispered to him that they had guessed the nature of his
+business.
+
+"My telegram was not delivered to him until this morning. Wasn't it
+provoking?" she was saying.
+
+"What time is it now?" asked Rossiter.
+
+"Half-past seven," responded Dudley rather sharply. His black eyes were
+fastened steadily upon those of the questioner. "Mr. Van Haltford's man
+came in and got Miss Dering's telegram yesterday, but it was not delivered
+to me until a neighbor came to the house with both the message and
+messenger in charge. Joseph had drunk all the whisky in Fossingford.
+
+"Then there's no chance for me to get a drink, I suppose," said Rossiter
+with a wry smile.
+
+"Do you need one?" asked Miss Dering saucily.
+
+"I have a headache."
+
+"A pick-me-up is what you want," said Dudley coldly.
+
+"My dear sir, I haven't been drunk," remonstrated Rossiter sharply. His
+hearers laughed and he turned red but cold with resentment.
+
+"See, Mr. Rollins, I have smoothed out your clothes and folded them," she
+said, pointing to her one-time couch. "I couldn't pack them in your trunk
+because you were sitting on it. Shall I help you now?"
+
+"No, I thank you," he said ungraciously. "I can toss 'em in any old way."
+
+He set about doing it without another word. His companions stood over
+near the window and conversed earnestly in words too low for him to
+distinguish. From the corner of his eye he could see that Dudley's face
+was hard and uncompromising, while hers was eager and imploring. The man
+was stubbornly objecting to something, and she was just as decided in an
+opposite direction.
+
+"He's finding fault and she's trying to square it with him. Oh, my
+beauties, you'll have a hard time to shake off one Samuel Rossiter.
+They're suspicious--or he is, at least. Some one has tipped me off to
+them, I fancy."
+
+"I'm sorry they are so badly mussed, Mr. Rollins, but they did make a
+very comfortable bed," she said, walking over to him. Her cheeks were
+flushed and her eyes were gleaming. "You are going to Eagle Nest to-day?"
+
+"Just as soon as I can get a conveyance. There is a stage-coach at nine,
+Miss Dering."
+
+"We will have room for you on our break," she said simply. Her eyes met
+his bravely and then wavered. Rossiter's heart gave a mighty leap.
+
+"Permit me to second Miss Dering's invitation," said Dudley, coming over.
+The suggestion of a frown on his face made Rossiter only too eager to
+accept the unexpected invitation. "My aunt and Miss Crozier are outside
+with the coachman. You can have your luggage sent over in the stage. It is
+fourteen miles by road, so we should be under way, Mr. Rollins."
+
+As Rossiter followed them across the platform he was saying to himself:
+
+"Well, the game's on. Here's where I begin to earn my salary. I'll hang
+out my sign when I get back to New York: 'Police Spying. Satisfaction
+guaranteed. References given.' Hang it all, I hate to do this to her.
+She's an awfully good sort, and--and--But I don't like this damned Havens!"
+
+Almost before he knew it he was being presented to two handsome,
+fashionably dressed young women who sat together in the rear seat of the
+big mountain break.
+
+"Every cloud has its silver lining," Miss Dering was saying. "Let me
+present you to Mr. Dudley's aunt, Mrs. Van Haltford, and to Miss Crozier,
+Mr. Rollins."
+
+In a perfect maze of emotions, he found himself bowing before the two
+ladies, who smiled distantly and uncertainly. Dudley's aunt? That dashing
+young creature his aunt? Rossiter was staggered by the boldness of the
+claim. He could scarce restrain the scornful, brutal laugh of derision at
+this ridiculous play upon his credulity. To his secret satisfaction he
+discovered that the entire party seemed nervous and ill at ease. There was
+a trace of confusion in their behavior. He heard Miss Dering explain that
+he was to accompany the party and he saw the poorly concealed look of
+disapproval and polite inquiry that went between the two ladies and
+Dudley. There was nothing for it, however, now that Miss Dering had
+committed herself, and he was advised to look to his luggage without delay.
+
+He hurried into the station to arrange for the transportation of his
+trunk by stage, all the while smiling maliciously in his sleeve. Looking
+surreptitiously from a window he saw the quartet, all of them now on the
+break, arguing earnestly over--him, he was sure. Miss Dering was
+plaintively facing the displeasure of the trio. The coachman's averted
+face wore a half-grin. The discussion ended abruptly as Rossiter
+reappeared, but there was a coldness in the air that did not fail to
+impress him as portentous.
+
+"I'm the elephant on their hands--the proverbial hot coal," he thought
+wickedly. "Well, they've got to bear it even if they can't grin." Then
+aloud cheerily: "All aboard! We're off!" He took his seat beside the
+driver. The events of the ensuing week are best chronicled by the
+reproduction of Rossiter's own diary or report, with liberties in the
+shape of an author's comments.
+
+
+THURSDAY.
+
+
+"Settled comfortably in Eagle Nest House. Devilish rugged and
+out-of-the-way place. Mrs. Van Haltford is called Aunt Josephine. She and
+Miss Debby Crozier have rooms on the third floor. Mine is next to theirs,
+Havens's is next to mine, and Mrs. Wharton has two rooms beyond his. We
+are not unlike a big family party. They're rather nice to me. I go
+walking with Aunt Josephine. I don't understand why I'm sandwiched in
+between Havens and Aunt Josephine. Otherwise the arrangement is neat.
+There is a veranda outside our windows. We sit upon it. Aunt Josephine
+is a great bluff, but she's clever. She's never napping. I've tried to
+pump her. Miss Crozier is harmless. She doesn't care. Havens never takes
+his eyes off Mrs. W. when they are together. She looks at him a good bit,
+too. They don't pay much attention to me. Aunt Josephine's husband is
+very old and very busy. He can't take vacations. Everybody went to bed
+early to-night. No evidence to-day."
+
+
+FRIDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"Havens and Mrs. W. went hill-climbing this afternoon and were gone for
+an hour before I missed them. Then I took Aunt Jo and Debby out for a
+quick climb. Confound Aunt Jo! She got tired in ten minutes and Debby
+wouldn't go on without her. I think it was a put-up job. The others didn't
+return till after six. She asked me if I'd like to walk about the grounds
+after dinner. Said I would. We did. Havens went with us. Couldn't shake
+him to save my life."
+
+
+SATURDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"I have to watch myself constantly to keep from calling her Mrs. Wharton.
+I believe writing her real name is bad policy. It makes me forget. After
+this I shall call her Miss Dering, and I'll speak of him as Dudley. This
+morning he asked me to call him 'Jim.' He calls me 'Sam.' Actors do get
+familiar. When she came downstairs to go driving with him this morning
+I'll swear she was the prettiest thing I ever saw. They took a lunch and
+were gone for hours. I'd like to punch his face. She was very quiet all
+evening, and I fancied she avoided me. I smelt liquor on his breath just
+before bedtime.
+
+"_One A. M._--I thought everybody had gone to bed, but they are out
+there on the veranda talking. Just outside her windows. I distinctly heard
+him call her 'dearest.' Something must have alarmed them, for they parted
+abruptly. He walked the veranda for an hour, all alone. Plenty of
+evidence."
+
+
+SUNDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"For appearance's sake he took Miss Crozier for a walk to-day. I went to
+the chapel down the hill with Miss Dering and Aunt Josephine. Aunt
+Josephine put a ten-dollar bill in the box. Thinks she's squaring herself
+with the Lord, I suppose. Miss Dering was not at all talkative and gave
+every sign of being uncomfortable because he had the audacity to go
+walking with another girl. In the afternoon she complained of being ill
+and went to her room. Later on she sent for Dudley and Mrs. Van Haltford.
+They were in her room all afternoon. I smoked on the terrace with Debby.
+She is the most uninteresting girl I ever met. But she's on to their game.
+I know it because she forgot herself once, when I mentioned Miss Dering's
+illness, and said: 'Poor girl! She is in a most trying position. Don't you
+think Mr. Dudley is a splendid fellow?' I said that he was very
+good-looking, and she seemed to realize she had said something she ought
+not to have said and shut up. I'm sorry she's sick, though. I miss that
+parasol dreadfully. She always has it, and I can see her a mile away.
+Usually he carries it, though. Well, I suppose he has a right--as original
+owner. Jim and I smoked together this evening, but he evidently smells a
+mouse. He did not talk much, and I caught him eying me strangely several
+times."
+
+
+MONDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"Dudley has departed. I believe they are on to me. He went to Boston this
+afternoon, and he actually was gruff with me just before leaving. The size
+of the matter is, some one has posted him, and they are all up to my game
+as a spy. I wish I were out of it. Never was so ashamed of a thing in my
+life; don't feel like looking any one in the face. They've all been nice
+to me. But what's the difference? They're all interested. She went to the
+train with him and--the rest of us. I'll never forget how sad she looked
+as she held his hand and bade him good-by. I carried the parasol back to
+the hotel, and I know I hurt her feelings when I maliciously said that it
+would look well with a deep black border. She almost looked a hole through
+me. Fine eyes. I don't know what is coming next. She is liable to slip out
+from under my eye at any time and fly away to meet him somewhere else. I
+telegraphed this message to Grover & Dickhut:
+
+"He has gone. She still here. What shall I do?
+
+"Got this answer:
+
+"Stay there and watch. They suspect you. Don't let her get away.
+
+"But how the devil am I to watch day and night?"
+
+The next week was rather an uneventful one for Rossiter. There was no
+sign of Havens and no effort on her part to leave Eagle Nest.
+
+As the days went by he became more and more vigilant. In fact, his watch
+was incessant and very much of a personal one. He walked and drove with
+her, and he invented all sorts of excuses to avoid Mrs. Van Haltford and
+Miss Crozier. The purple parasol and he had become almost inseparable
+friends. The fear that Havens might return at any time kept him in a fever
+of anxiety and dread. Now that he was beginning to know her for himself he
+could not endure the thought that she cared for another man. Strange to
+say, he did not think of her husband. Old Wharton had completely faded
+from his mind; it was Havens that he envied. He saw himself sinking into
+her net, falling before her wiles, but he did not rebel.
+
+He went to bed each night apprehensive that the next morning should find
+him alone and desolate at Eagle Nest, the bird flown. It hurt him to think
+that she would laugh over her feat of outwitting him. He was not guarding
+her for old Wharton now; he was in his own employ. All this time he knew
+it was wrong, and that she was trifling with him while the other was away.
+Yet he had eyes, ears, and a heart like all men, and they were for none
+save the pretty wife of Godfrey Wharton.
+
+He spoke to her on several occasions of Dudley and gnashed his teeth when
+he saw a look of sadness, even longing, come into her dark eyes. At such
+times he was tempted to tell her that he knew all, to confound her by
+charging her with guilt. But he could not collect the courage. For some
+unaccountable reason he held his bitter tongue. And so it was that
+handsome Sam Rossiter, spy and good fellow, fell in love with a woman who
+had a very dark page in her history.
+
+She received mail, of course, daily, but he was not sneak enough to pry
+into its secrets, even had the chance presented itself. Sometimes she
+tossed the letters away carelessly, but he observed that there were some
+which she guarded jealously.
+
+Once he heard her tell Aunt Josephine that she had a letter from "Jim."
+He began to discover that "Jim" was a forbidden subject and that he was
+not discussed; at least, not in his presence. Many times he saw the two
+women in earnest, rather cautious conversation, and instinctively felt
+that Havens was the subject. Mrs. Wharton appeared piqued and discontented
+after these little talks. He made this entry in his diary one night, a
+week after Havens went away:
+
+"I almost wish he'd come back and end the suspense. This thing is wearing
+on me. I was weighed to-day and I've lost ten pounds. Mrs. Van Haltford
+says I look hungry and advises me to try salt-water air. I'm hanged if I
+don't give up the job this week. I don't like it, anyhow. It doesn't seem
+square to be down here enjoying her society, taking her walking and all
+that, and all the time hunting up something with which to ruin her
+forever. I'll stick the week out, but I'm not decided whether I'll produce
+any evidence against her if the Wharton _vs._ Wharton case ever does
+come to trial. I don't believe I could. I don't want to be a sneak."
+
+One day Rossiter and the purple parasol escorted the pretty trifler over
+the valley to Bald Top, half a mile from the hotel. Mrs. Van Haltford and
+Miss Crozier were to join them later and were to bring with them Colonel
+Deming and Mr. Vincent, two friends who had lately arrived. The hotel was
+rapidly filling with fashionable guests, and Mrs. Wharton had petulantly
+observed, a day or two before, that the place was getting crowded and she
+believed she would go away soon. On the way over she said to him:
+
+"I have about decided to go down to Velvet Springs for the rest of the
+month. Don't you think it is getting rather crowded here?"
+
+"I have been pretty well satisfied," he replied, in an injured tone. "I
+don't see why you should want to leave here."
+
+"Why should I stay if I am tired of the place?" she asked demurely,
+casting a roguish glance at his sombre face. He clenched the parasol and
+grated his teeth.
+
+"She's leading me on, confound her!" he thought. At the same time his
+head whirled and his heart beat a little faster. "You shouldn't," he said,
+"if you are tired. There's more of an attraction at Velvet Springs, I
+suppose."
+
+"Have you been there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You answered rather snappishly. Have you a headache?"
+
+"Pardon me; I didn't intend to answer snappishly, as you call it. I only
+wanted to be brief."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I wanted to change the subject."
+
+"Shall we talk of the weather?"
+
+"I suppose we may as well," he said resignedly. She was plainly laughing
+at him now. "Look here," he said, stopping and looking into her eyes
+intently and somewhat fiercely, "why do you want to go to Velvet Springs?"
+
+"Why should you care where I go?" she answered blithely, although her
+eyes wavered.
+
+"It's because you are unhappy here and because some one else is there.
+I'm not blind, Mrs.--Miss Dering."
+
+"You have no right to talk to me in that manner, Mr. Rollins. Come, we
+are to go back to the hotel at once," she said coldly. There was steel in
+her eyes.
+
+He met her contemptuous look for a moment and quailed.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am a fool, but you have made me such," he said
+baldly.
+
+"I? I do not understand you," and he could not but admire the clever,
+innocent, widespread eyes.
+
+"You will understand me some day," he said, and to his amazement she
+flushed and looked away. They continued their walk, but there was a
+strange shyness in her manner that puzzled him.
+
+"When is Dudley expected back here?" he asked abruptly.
+
+She started sharply and gave him a quick, searching look. There was a
+guilty expression in her eyes, and he muttered something ugly under his
+breath.
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Rollins," she answered.
+
+"When did you hear from him last?" he demanded half savagely.
+
+"I do not intend to be catechized by you, sir," she exclaimed, halting
+abruptly. "We shall go back. You are very ugly to-day and I am surprised."
+
+"I supposed you had letters from him every day," he went on ruthlessly.
+She gave him a look in which he saw pain and the shadow of tears, and then
+she turned and walked swiftly toward the hotel. His conscience smote him
+and he turned after her. For the next ten minutes he was on his knees,
+figuratively, pleading for forgiveness. At last she paused and smiled
+sweetly into his face. Then she calmly turned and resumed the journey to
+Bald Top, saying demurely:
+
+"We have nearly a quarter of a mile to retrace, all because you were so
+hateful."
+
+"And you so obdurate," he added blissfully. He had tried to be severe and
+angry with her and had failed.
+
+That very night the expected came to pass. Havens appeared on the scene,
+the same handsome, tragic-looking fellow, a trifle care-worn perhaps, but
+still--an evil genius. Rossiter ran plump into him in the hallway and was
+speechless for a moment. He unconsciously shook hands with the new
+arrival, but his ears were ringing so with the thuds of his heart that he
+heard but few of the brisk words addressed to him. After the eager actor
+had left him standing humbly in the hall he managed to recall part of what
+had been said. He had come up on the express from Boston and could stay
+but a day or two. Did Mr. Rossiter know whether Miss Dering was in her
+room? The barrister also distinctly remembered that he did not ask for his
+aunt, which would have been the perfectly natural query.
+
+Half an hour later Havens was strolling about the grounds, under the lamp
+lights, in and out of dark nooks, and close beside him was a slim figure
+in white. Their conversation was earnest, their manner secretive; that
+much the harassed Rossiter could see from the balcony. His heart grew sore
+and he could almost feel the tears of disappointment surging to his eyes.
+A glance in his mirror had shown him a face haggard and drawn, eyes
+strange and bright. He had not slept well, he knew; he had worn himself
+out in this despicable watch; he had grown to care for the creature he had
+been hired to spy upon. No wonder he was haggard.
+
+Now he was jealous--madly, fiendishly jealous. In his heart there was the
+savage desire to kill the other man and to denounce the woman. Pacing the
+grounds about the hotel, he soon worked himself into a fever, devilish in
+its hotness. More than once he passed them, and it was all he could do to
+refrain from springing upon them. At length he did what most men do: he
+took a drink. Whisky flew down his throat and to his brain. In his mind's
+eye he saw her in the other's arms--and he could bear it no longer!
+Rushing to his room, he threw himself on the bed and cursed.
+
+"Good heaven! I love her! I love her better than all the world! I can't
+stay here and see any more of it! By thunder, I'll go back to New York and
+they can go to the devil! So can old Wharton! And so can Grover & Dickhut!"
+
+He leaped to his feet, dashed headlong to the telegraph office
+downstairs, and ten minutes later this message was flying to Grover &
+Dickhut:
+
+Get some one else for this job. I'm done with it. Coming home.--SAM.
+
+"I'm coming on the first train, too," muttered the sender, as he hurried
+up-stairs. "I can pack my trunk for the night stage. I'd like to say
+good-by to her, but I can't--I couldn't stand it. What's the difference?
+She won't care whether I go or stay--rather have me go. If I were to meet
+her now I'd--yes, by George--kiss her! It's wrong to love her, but--"
+
+There was nothing dignified about the manner in which big Sam Rossiter
+packed his trunk. He fairly stamped the clothing into it and did a lot of
+other absurd things. When he finally locked it and yanked out his watch
+his brow was wet and he was trembling. It had taken just five minutes to
+do the packing. His hat was on the back of his head, his collar was
+melting, and his cigar was chewed to a pulp. Cane and umbrella were yanked
+from behind the door and he was ready to fly. The umbrella made him think
+of a certain parasol, and his heart grew still and cold with the knowledge
+that he was never to carry it again.
+
+"I hope I don't meet any of 'em," he muttered, pulling himself together
+and rushing into the hall. A porter had already jerked his trunk down the
+stair steps.
+
+As he hastened after it he heard the swish of skirts and detected in the
+air a familiar odor, the subtle scent of a perfume that he could not
+forget were he to live a thousand years. The next moment she came swiftly
+around a corner in the hall, hurrying to her rooms. They met and both
+started in surprise, her eyes falling to his travelling-bag, and then
+lifting to his face in bewilderment. He checked his hurried flight and she
+came quite close to him. The lights in the hall were dim and the elevator
+car had dropped to regions below.
+
+"Where are you going?" she asked in some agitation.
+
+"I am going back to New York," he answered, controlling himself with an
+effort. She was so beautiful, there in the dim hallway.
+
+"To-night?" she asked in very low tones.
+
+"In half an hour."
+
+"And were you going without saying good-by to--to us?" she went on rapidly.
+
+He looked steadily down into her solemn eyes for a moment and an
+expression of pain, of longing, came into his own.
+
+"It couldn't make any difference whether I said good-by to you, and it
+would have been hard," he replied unsteadily.
+
+"Hard? I don't understand you," she said.
+
+"I didn't want to see you. Yes, I hoped to get away before you knew
+anything about it. Maybe it was cowardly, but it was the best way," he
+cried bitterly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried, and he detected alarm, confusion, guilt in
+her manner.
+
+"You know what I mean. I know everything--I knew it before I came here,
+before I saw you. It's why I am here, I'm ashamed to say. But, have no
+fear--have no fear! I've given up the job--the nasty job--and you can do
+as you please. The only trouble is that I have been caught in the web;
+I've been trapped myself. You've made me care for you. That's why I'm
+giving it all up. Don't look so frightened--I'll promise to keep your
+secret."
+
+Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, but no words came; she seemed to
+shrink from him as if he were the headsman and she his victim.
+
+"I'll do it, right or wrong!" he gasped suddenly. And in an instant his
+satchel clattered to the floor and his arms were straining the slight
+figure to his breast. Burning lips met hers and sealed them tight. She
+shivered violently, struggled for an instant in his mad embrace, but made
+no outcry. Gradually her free arm stole upward and around his neck and her
+lips responded to the passion in his. His kiss of ecstasy was returned.
+The thrill of joy that shot through him was almost overpowering. A dozen
+times he kissed her. Unbelieving, he held her from him and looked hungrily
+into her eyes. They were wet with tears.
+
+"Why do you go? I love you!" she whispered faintly.
+
+Then came the revulsion. With an oath he threw her from him. Her hands
+went to her temples and a moan escaped her lips.
+
+"Bah!" he snarled. "Get away from me! Heaven forgive me for being as weak
+as I've been to-night!"
+
+"Sam!" she wailed piteously.
+
+"Don't tell me anything! Don't try to explain! Be honest with one man, at
+least!"
+
+"You must be insane!" she cried tremulously.
+
+"Don't play innocent, madam. I _know_." In abject terror she shrank
+away from him. "But I have kissed you! If I live a thousand years I shall
+not forget its sweetness."
+
+He waved his hands frantically above her, grabbed up his suit-case and
+traps, and, with one last look at the petrified woman shrinking against
+the wall under the blasts of his vituperation, he dashed for the stairway.
+And so he left her, a forlorn, crushed figure.
+
+Blindly he tore downstairs and to the counter. He hardly knew what he was
+doing as he drew forth his pocket-book to pay his account.
+
+"Going away, Mr. Rollins?" inquired the clerk, glancing at the clock. It
+was eleven-twenty and the last stage-coach left for Fossingford at
+eleven-thirty, in time to catch the seven o'clock down train.
+
+"Certainly," was the excited answer.
+
+"A telegram came a few moments ago for you, sir, but I thought you were
+in bed," and the other tossed a little envelope out to him. Mechanically
+Rossiter tore it open. He was thinking of the cowering woman in the
+hallway and he was cursing himself for his brutality.
+
+He read the despatch with dizzy eyes and drooping jaw, once, twice,
+thrice. Then he leaned heavily against the counter and a coldness assailed
+his heart, so bitter that he felt his blood freezing. It read:
+
+What have you been doing? The people you were sent to watch sailed for
+Europe ten days ago.
+
+       GROVER & DICKHUT.
+
+The paper fell from his trembling fingers, but he regained it, natural
+instinct inspiring a fear that the clerk would read it.
+
+"Good Lord!" he gasped.
+
+"Bad news, Mr. Rollins?" asked the clerk sympathetically, but the
+stricken, bewildered man did not answer.
+
+What did it mean? A vast faintness attacked him as the truth began to
+penetrate. Out of the whirling mystery came the astounding, ponderous
+realization that he had blundered, that he had wronged her, that he had
+accused her of--Oh, that dear, stricken figure in the hallway above!
+
+He leaped to the staircase. Three steps at a time he flew back to the
+scene of the miserable tragedy. What he thought, what he felt as he rushed
+into the hallway can only be imagined. She was gone--heartbroken, killed!
+And she had kissed him and said she loved him!
+
+A light shone through the transoms over the doors that led into her
+apartments. Quaking with fear, he ran down the hall and beat a violent
+tattoo upon her parlor door. Again he rapped, crazed by remorse, fear,
+love, pity, shame, and a hundred other emotions.
+
+"Who is it?" came in stifled tones from within.
+
+"It is I--Rossiter--I mean Rollins! I must see you--now! For pity's sake,
+let me in!"
+
+"How dare you--" she began shrilly; but he was not to be denied.
+
+"If you don't open this door I'll kick it in!" he shouted. "I must see
+you!"
+
+After a moment the door flew open and he stood facing her. She was like a
+queen. Her figure was as straight as an arrow, her eyes blazing. But there
+had been tears in them a moment before.
+
+"Another insult!" she exclaimed, and the scorn in her voice was
+withering. He paused abashed, for the first time realizing that he had
+hurt her beyond reparation. His voice faltered and the tears flew to his
+eyes.
+
+"I don't know what to say to you. It has been a mistake--a frightful
+mistake--and I don't know whether you'll let me explain. When I got
+downstairs I found this telegram and--for heaven's sake, let me tell you
+the wretched story. Don't turn away from me! You shall listen to me if I
+have to hold you!" His manner changed suddenly to the violent, imperious
+forcefulness of a man driven to the last resort.
+
+"Must I call for help?" she cried, thoroughly alarmed, once more the weak
+woman, face to face, as she thought, with an insane man.
+
+"I love you better than my own life, and I've hurt you terribly. I'm not
+crazy, Helen! But I've been a fool, and I'll go crazy if you don't give me
+a chance to explain."
+
+Whether she gave the chance or no he took it, and from his eager,
+pleading lips raced the whole story of his connection with the Wharton
+affair from first to last.
+
+He humbled himself, accused himself, ridiculed himself, and wound up by
+throwing himself upon her mercy, uttering protestations of the love which
+had really been his undoing.
+
+She heard him through without a word. The light in her eyes changed; the
+fear left them and the scorn fled. Instead there grew, by stages, wonder,
+incredulity, wavering doubt and--joy. She understood him and she loved
+him! The awful horror of that meeting in the hallway was swept away like
+unto the transformation scene in the fairy spectacle.
+
+When he fell upon his knee and sought to clasp her fingers in his cold
+hand she smiled, and, stooping over, placed both hands on his cheeks and
+kissed him.
+
+What followed her kiss of forgiveness may be more easily imagined than
+told.
+
+"You see it was perfectly natural for me to mistake you for Mrs.
+Wharton," he said after awhile. "You had the gray jacket, the sailor hat,
+the purple parasol, and you are beautiful. And, besides all that, you were
+found red-handed in that ridiculous town of Fossingford. Why shouldn't I
+have suspected you with such a preponderance of evidence against you?
+Anybody who would get off of a night train in Fossingford certainly ought
+to be ashamed of something."
+
+"But Fossingford is on the map, isn't it? One has a perfect right to get
+off where she likes, hasn't she, provided it is on the map?"
+
+"Not at all! That's what maps are for: to let you see where you don't get
+off."
+
+"But I was obliged to get off there. My ticket said 'Fossingford,' and,
+besides, I was to be met at the station in a most legitimate manner. You
+had no right to jump at conclusions."
+
+"Well, if you had not descended to earth at Fossingford I wouldn't be in
+heaven at Eagle Nest. Come to think of it, I believe you did quite the
+proper thing in getting off at Fossingford--no matter what the hour."
+
+"You must remember always that I have not taken you to task for a most
+flagrant piece of--shall I say indiscretion?"
+
+"Good Heavens!"
+
+"You stopped off at Fossingford for the sole purpose of seeing another
+woman."
+
+"That's all very fine, dear, but you'll admit that Dudley was an
+excellent substitute for Havens. Can't you see how easy it was to be
+mistaken?"
+
+"I won't fall into easy submission. Still, I believe I could recommend
+you as a detective. They usually do the most unheard of things--just as
+you have. Poor Jim Dudley an actor! Mistaken for such a man as you say
+Havens is! It is even more ridiculous than that I should be mistaken for
+Mrs. Wharton."
+
+"Say, I'd like to know something about Dudley. It was his confounded
+devotion to you that helped matters along in my mind. What is he to you?"
+
+"He came here to-night to repeat a question that had been answered
+unalterably once before. Jim Dudley? Have you never heard of James Dudley,
+the man who owns all of those big mines in South America, the man who--"
+
+"Who owns the yachts and automobiles and--and the railroad trains? Is he
+the one? The man with the millions? Good Lord! And you could have had him
+instead of me? Helen, I--I don't understand it. Why didn't you take him?"
+
+She hesitated a moment before answering brightly:
+
+"Perhaps it is because I have a fancy for the ridiculous."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon
+#18 in our series by George Barr McCutcheon
+
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+Title: The Purple Parasol
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+Author: George Barr McCutcheon
+
+Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6575]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on December 29, 2002]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PURPLE PARASOL ***
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+Produced by Avinash Kothare, Charles Aldarondo
+and the On-line Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE PURPLE PARASOL
+
+
+GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON
+
+
+
+
+THE PURPLE PARASOL
+
+
+
+
+Young Rossiter did not like the task. The more he thought of it as he
+whirled northward on the Empire State Express the more distasteful it
+seemed to grow.
+
+"Hang it all," he thought, throwing down his magazine in disgust, "it's
+like police work. And heaven knows I haven't wanted to be a cop since we
+lived in Newark twenty years ago. Why the dickens did old Wharton marry
+her? He's an old ass, and he's getting just what he might have expected.
+She's twenty-five and beautiful; he's seventy and a sight. I've a notion
+to chuck the whole affair and go back to the simple but virtuous
+Tenderloin. It's not my sort, that's all, and I was an idiot for mixing in
+it. The firm served me a shabby trick when it sent me out to work up this
+case for Wharton. It's a regular Peeping Tom Job, and I don't like it."
+
+It will require but few words to explain Sam Rossiter's presence in the
+north-bound Empire Express, but it would take volumes to express his
+feelings on the subject in general. Back in New York there lived Godfrey
+Wharton, millionaire and septuagenarian. For two years he had been husband
+to one of the prettiest, gayest young women in the city, and in the latter
+days of this responsibility he was not a happy man. His wife had fallen
+desperately, even conspicuously, in love with Everett Havens, the new
+leading man at one of the fashionable playhouses. The affair had been
+going on for weeks, and it had at last become the talk of the town. By
+"the town" is meant that vague, expansive thing known as the "Four
+Hundred." Sam Rossiter, two years out of Yale, was an attachment to, but
+not a component part of, the Four Hundred. The Whartons were of the inner
+circle.
+
+Young Rossiter was ambitious. He was, besides, keen, aggressive, and
+determined to make well for himself. Entering the great law offices of
+Grover & Dickhut immediately after leaving college, he devoted himself
+assiduously to the career in prospect. He began by making its foundation
+as substantial as brains and energy would permit. So earnest, so
+successful was he that Grover & Dickhut regarded him as the most promising
+young man in New York. They predicted a great future for him, no small
+part of which was the ultimate alteration of an office shingle, the name
+of Rossiter going up in gilt, after that of Dickhut. And, above all,
+Rossiter was a handsome, likable chap. Tall, fair, sunny-hearted, well
+groomed, he was a fellow that both sexes liked without much effort.
+
+The Wharton trouble was bound to prove startling any way one looked at
+it. The prominence of the family, the baldness of its skeleton, and the
+gleeful eagerness with which it danced into full view left but little for
+meddlers to covet. A crash was inevitable; it was the _clash_ that
+Grover & Dickhut were trying to avert. Old Wharton, worn to a slimmer
+frazzle than he had ever been before his luckless marriage, was determined
+to divorce his insolent younger half. It was to be done with as little
+noise as possible, more for his own sake than for hers. Wharton was proud
+in, not of, his weakness.
+
+It became necessary to "shadow" the fair débutante into matrimony. After
+weeks of indecision Mr. Wharton finally arose and swore in accents
+terrible that she was going too far to be called back. He determined to
+push, not to pull, on the reins. Grover & Dickhut were commanded to get
+the "evidence"; he would pay. When he burst in upon them and cried in his
+cracked treble that "the devil's to pay," he did not mean to cast any
+aspersion upon the profession in general or particular. He was annoyed.
+
+"She's going away next week," he exclaimed, as if the lawyers were to
+blame for it.
+
+"Well, and what of it?" asked Mr. Grover blandly.
+
+"Up into the mountains," went on Mr. Wharton triumphantly.
+
+"Is it against the law?" smiled the old lawyer.
+
+"Confound the law! I don't object to her going up into the mountains for
+a rest, but--"
+
+"It's much too hot in town for her, I fancy."
+
+"How's that?" querulously. "But I've just heard that that scoundrel
+Havens is going to the mountains also."
+
+"The same mountain?"
+
+"Certainly. I have absolute proof of it. Now, something has to be done!"
+
+And so it was that the promising young lawyer, Samuel W. Rossiter, Jr.,
+was sent northward into the Adirondacks one hot summer day with
+instructions to be tactful but thorough. He had never seen Mrs. Wharton,
+nor had he seen Havens. There was no time to look up these rather
+important details, for he was off to intercept her at the little station
+from which one drove by coach to the quiet summer hotel among the clouds.
+She was starting the same afternoon. He found himself wondering whether
+this petted butterfly of fashion had ever seen him, and, seeing him, had
+been sufficiently interested to inquire, "Who is that tall fellow with the
+light hair?" It would be difficult to perform the duties assigned to him
+if either she or Havens knew him for what he was. His pride would have
+been deeply wounded if he had known that Grover & Dickhut recommended him
+to Wharton as "obscure."
+
+"They say she is a howling beauty as well as a swell," reflected
+Rossiter, as the miles and minutes went swinging by. "And that's something
+to be thankful for. One likes novelty, especially if it's feminine. Well,
+I'm out for the sole purpose of saving a million or so for old Wharton,
+and to save as much of her reputation as I can besides. With the proof in
+hand the old duffer can scare her out of any claim against his bank
+account, and she shall have the absolute promise of 'no exposure' in
+return. Isn't it lovely? Well, here's Albany. Now for the dinky road up to
+Fossingford Station. I have an hour's wait here. She's coming on the
+afternoon train and gets to Fossingford at eleven-ten to-night. That's a
+dickens of a time for a young woman to be arriving anywhere, to say
+nothing of Fossingford."
+
+Loafing about the depot at Albany, Rossiter kept a close lookout for Mrs.
+Wharton as he pictured her from the description he carried in his mind's
+eye. Her venerable husband informed him that she was sure to wear a white
+shirt-waist, a gray skirt, and a Knox sailor hat, because her maid had
+told him so in a huff. But he was to identify her chiefly by means of a
+handsome and oddly trimmed parasol of deep purple. Wharton had every
+reason to suspect that it was a present from Havens, and therefore to be
+carried more for sentiment than protection.
+
+A telegram awaited him at Fossingford Station. Fossingford was so small
+and unsophisticated that the arrival of a telegraphic message that did not
+relate to the movement of railroad trains was an "occasion." Everybody in
+town knew that a message had come for Samuel Rossiter, and everybody was
+at the depot to see that he got it. The station agent had inquired at the
+"eating-house" for the gentleman, and that was enough. With the eyes of a
+Fossingford score or two upon him, Rossiter read the despatch from Grover
+& Dickhut.
+
+"Too bad, ain't it?" asked the agent, compassionately regarding the
+newcomer. Evidently the contents were supposed to be disappointing.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," replied Rossiter easily. But just the same he was
+troubled in mind as he walked over and sat down upon his steamer trunk in
+the shade of the building. The telegram read:
+
+"She left New York five-thirty this evening. Stops over night Albany.
+Fossingford to-morrow morning. Watch trains. Purple parasol. Sailor hat.
+Gray travelling suit.
+
+"G. and D."
+
+It meant that he would be obliged to stay in Fossingford all night--but
+where? A general but comprehensive glance did not reveal anything that
+looked like a hotel. He thought of going back to Albany for the night, but
+it suddenly occurred to him that she might not stop in that city, after
+all. Pulling his wits together, he saw things with a new clearness of
+vision. Ostensibly she had announced her intention to spend the month at
+Eagle Nest, an obscure but delightful hotel in the hills; but did that
+really mean that she would go there? It was doubtless a ruse to throw the
+husband off the track. There were scores of places in the mountains, and
+it was more than probable that she would give Eagle Nest a wide berth.
+Rossiter patted his bump of perceptiveness and smiled serenely until he
+came plump up against the realization that she might not come by way of
+Fossingford at all, or, in any event, she might go whisking through to
+some station farther north. His speculations came to an end in the shape
+of a distressing resolution. He would remain in Fossingford and watch the
+trains go by!
+
+After he had dashed through several early evening trains, the cheerful,
+philosophical smile of courage left his face and trouble stared from his
+eyes. He saw awkward prospects ahead. Suppose she were to pass through on
+one of the late night trains! He could not rush through the sleepers, even
+though the trains stopped in Fossingford for water.
+
+Besides, she could not be identified by means of a gray suit, a sailor
+hat, and a purple parasol if they were tucked away in the berth. At eleven
+o'clock he was pacing the little depot platform, waiting for the eleven-
+ten train, the last he was to inspect for the night. He had eaten a scanty
+meal at the restaurant nearby, and was still mad about it. The station
+agent slept soundly at his post, and all the rest of the town had gone to
+bed.
+
+The train pulled in and out again, leaving him at the far end of the
+platform, mopping his harassed brow. He had visited the chair-cars and had
+seen no one answering the description. A half-dozen passengers huddled off
+and wandered away in the darkness.
+
+"I'll bet my head she's in one of those sleepers," he groaned, as he
+watched the lights on the rear coach fade away into the night. "It's all
+off till to-morrow, that's settled. My only hope is that she really
+stopped in Albany. There's a train through here at three in the morning;
+but I'm not detective enough to unravel the mystery of any woman's berth.
+Now, where the deuce am _I_ to sleep?"
+
+As he looked about dismally, disconsolately, his hands deep in his
+pockets, his straw hat pulled low over his sleepy eyes, the station agent
+came up to him with a knowing grin on his face.
+
+"'Scuse me, boss, but she's come," he said, winking.
+
+"She? Who?"
+
+"Her. The young lady. Sure! She's lookin' fer you over in the
+waitin'-room. You mus' 'a' missed her when she got off--thought she
+wasn't comin' up till to-morrer. Mus' 'a' changed her mind. That's
+a woming all over, ain't it?"
+
+Rossiter felt himself turn hot and cold. His head began to whirl and his
+courage went fluttering away. Here was a queer complication. The quarry
+hunting for the sleuth, instead of the reverse. He fanned himself with his
+hat for one brief, uncertain moment, dazed beyond belief. Then he
+resolutely strode over to face the situation, trusting to luck to keep him
+from blundering his game into her hands. Just as he was about to put his
+foot upon the lamp-lit door-sill the solution struck him like a blow. She
+was expecting Havens to meet her!
+
+There was but one woman in the room, and she was approaching the door
+with evident impatience as he entered. Both stopped short, she with a look
+of surprise, which changed to annoyance and then crept into an nervous,
+apologetic little smile; he with an unsuppressed ejaculation. She wore a
+gray skirt, a white waist, and a sailor hat, and she was surpassingly good
+to look at even in the trying light from the overhead lamp. Instinctively
+his eye swept over her. She carried on her arm the light gray jacket, and
+in one hand was the tightly rolled parasol of--he impertinently craned his
+neck to see--of purple! Mr. Rossiter was face to face with the woman he
+was to dog for a month, and he was flabbergasted. Even as he stopped,
+puzzled, before her, contemplating retreat, she spoke to him.
+
+"Did that man send you to me?" she asked nervously, looking through the
+door beyond and then through a window at his right, quite puzzled, he
+could see.
+
+"He did, and I was sure he was mistaken. I knew of no one in this
+God-forsaken place who could be asking for me," said he, collecting his
+wits carefully and herding them into that one sentence. "But perhaps I
+can help you. Will you tell me whom I am to look for?"
+
+"It is strange he is not here," she said a little breathlessly. "I wired
+him just what train to expect me on."
+
+"Your husband?" ventured he admirably.
+
+"Oh, dear, no!" said she quickly.
+
+"I wish she'd wired me what train to expect her on," thought he grimly.
+"She doesn't know me. That's good. She was expecting Havens and he's
+missed connections somehow," shot rapidly through his brain. At the same
+time he was thinking of her as the prettiest woman he had seen in all his
+life. Then aloud: "I'll look on the platform. Maybe he's lost in this
+great city. What name shall I call out?"
+
+"Please don't call very loudly. You'll wake the dead," she said, with a
+pathetic smile. "It's awfully good of you. He may come at any minute, you
+know. His name is--is"--she hesitated for a second, and then went on
+determinedly--"Dudley. Tall, dark man. I don't know how I shall thank you.
+It's so very awkward."
+
+Rossiter darted from her glorious but perplexed presence. He had never
+seen Havens, but he was sure he could recognize an actor if he saw him in
+Fossingford. And he would call him Dudley, too. It would be wise. The
+search was fruitless. The only tall, dark object he saw was the mailcrane
+at the edge of the platform, but he facetiously asked if its name was
+Dudley. Receiving no answer, he turned back to cast additional woe into
+the heart of the pretty intriguer. She was standing in the door, despair
+in her eyes. Somehow he was pleased because he had not found the wretch.
+She was so fair to look upon and so appealing in her distress.
+
+"You couldn't find him? What am I to do? Oh, isn't it awful? He promised
+to be here."
+
+"Perhaps he's at a hotel."
+
+"In Fossingford?" in deep disgust. "There's no hotel here. He was to
+drive me to the home of a friend out in the country." Rossiter leaned
+against the wall suddenly. There was a long silence. He could not find his
+tongue, but his eyes were burning deep into the plaintive blue ones that
+looked up into his face.
+
+"I'll ask the agent," he said at last.
+
+"Ask him what?" she cried anxiously.
+
+"If he's been here. No, I'll ask if there's a place where you can sleep
+to-night. Mr. Dudley will surely turn up to-morrow."
+
+"But I couldn't sleep a wink. I feel like crying my eyes out," she wailed.
+
+"Don't do that!" exclaimed he, in alarm. "I'll take another look outside."
+
+"Please don't. He is not here. Will you please tell me what I am to do?"--
+very much as if it was his business to provide for her in the hour of need.
+
+Rossiter promptly awoke the agent and asked him where a room could be
+procured for the lady. Doxie's boarding-house was the only place,
+according to the agent, and it was full to overflowing. Besides, they
+would not "take in" strange women.
+
+"She can sleep here in the waiting-room," suggested the agent. "They'll
+let you sleep in the parlor over at Doxie's, mister--maybe."
+
+Rossiter did not have the heart to tell her all that the agent said. He
+merely announced that there was no hotel except the depot waiting-room.
+
+"By the way, does Mr. Dudley live out in the country?" he asked
+insidiously. She flushed and then looked at him narrowly.
+
+"No. He's visiting his uncle up here."
+
+"Funny he missed you."
+
+"It's terribly annoying," she said coldly. Then she walked away from him
+as if suddenly conscious that she should not be conversing with a
+good-looking stranger at such a time and place and under such peculiar
+circumstances. He withdrew to the platform and his own reflections.
+
+"He's an infernal cad for not meeting her," he found himself saying, her
+pretty, distressed face still before him. "I don't care a rap whether
+she's doing right or wrong--she's game. Still, she's a blamed little fool
+to be travelling up here on such an outlandish train. So he's visiting an
+uncle, eh? Then the chances are they're not going to Eagle Nest. Lucky I
+waited here--I'd have lost them entirely if I'd gone back to Albany. But
+where the deuce is she to sleep till morn--" He heard rapid footsteps
+behind him and turned to distinguish Mrs. Wharton as she approached dimly
+but gracefully. The air seemed full of her.
+
+"Oh, Mr.--Mr.--" she was saying eagerly.
+
+"Rollins."
+
+"Isn't there a later train, Mr. Rollins?"
+
+"I'll ask the agent."
+
+"There's the flyer at three-thirty A. M.," responded the sleepy agent a
+minute later.
+
+"I'll just sit up and wait for it," she said coolly. "He has got the
+trains confused."
+
+"Good heavens! Till three-thirty?"
+
+"But my dear Mr. Rollins, you won't be obliged to sit up, you know.
+You're not expecting any one, are you?"
+
+"N-no, of course not."
+
+"By the way, why _are_ you staying up?" He was sure he detected
+alarm in the question. She was suspecting him!
+
+"I have nowhere to go, Miss--Mrs.--er--" She merely smiled and he said
+something under his breath. "I'm waiting for the eight o'clock train."
+
+"How lovely! What time will the three-thirty train get here, agent?"
+
+"At half-past three, I reckon. But she don't stop here!"
+
+"Oh, goodness! Can't you flag it--her, I mean?"
+
+"What's the use?" asked Rossiter. "He's not coming on it, is he?"
+
+"That's so. He's coming in a buggy. You needn't mind flagging her, agent."
+
+"Well, say, I'd like to lock up the place," grumbled the agent. "There's
+no more trains to-night but Number Seventeen, and she don't even whistle
+here. I can't set up here all night."
+
+"Oh, you wouldn't lock me out in the night, would you?" she cried in such
+pretty despair that he faltered.
+
+"I got to git home to my wife. She's--"
+
+"That's all right, agent," broke in Rossiter hastily. "I'll take your
+place as agent. Leave the doors open and I'll go on watch. I have to stay
+up anyway."
+
+There was a long silence. He did not know whether she was freezing or
+warming toward him, because he dared not look into her eyes.
+
+"I don't know who you are," she said distinctly but plaintively. It was
+very dark out there on the platform and the night air was growing cold.
+
+"It is the misfortune of obscurity," he said mockingly. "I am a most
+humble wayfarer on his way to the high hills. If it will make you feel any
+more comfortable, madam, I will say that I don't know who you are. So, you
+see, we are in the same boat. You are waiting for a man and I am waiting
+for daylight. I sincerely trust you may not have as long to wait as I.
+Believe me, I regard myself as a gentleman. You are quite as safe with me
+as you will be with the agent, or with Mr.--Mr. Dudley, for that matter."
+
+"You may go home to your wife, Mr. Agent," she said promptly. "Mr.
+Rollins will let the trains through, I'm sure."
+
+The agent stalked away in the night and the diminutive station was left
+to the mercy of the wayfarers.
+
+"And now, Mr. Rollins, you may go over in that corner and stretch out on
+the bench. It will be springless, I know, but I fancy you can sleep. I
+will call you for the--for breakfast."
+
+"I'm hanged if you do. On the contrary, I'm going to do my best to fix a
+comfortable place for you to take a nap. I'll call you when Mr. Dudley
+comes."
+
+"It's most provoking of him," she said, as he began rummaging through his
+steamer trunk. "What are you doing?"
+
+"Hunting out something to make over into a mattress. You don't mind
+napping on my clothes, do you? Here's a soft suit of flannels, a heavy
+suit of cheviot, a dress suit, a spring coat, and a raincoat. I can rig up
+a downy couch in no time if--"
+
+"Ridiculous! Do you imagine that I'm going to sleep on your best clothes?
+I'm going to sit up."
+
+"You'll have to do as I say, madam, or be turned out of the hotel," said
+he, with an infectious grin.
+
+"But I insist upon your lying down. You have no reason for doing this for
+me. Besides, I'm going to sit up. Good-night!"
+
+"You are tired and ready to cry," he said, calmly going on with his
+preparations. She stood off defiantly and watched him pile his best
+clothes into a rather comfortable-looking heap on one of the long benches.
+"Now, if you don't mind, I'll make a pillow of these negligée shirts.
+They're soft, you know."
+
+"Stop! I refuse to accept your--" she was protesting.
+
+"Do you want me to leave you here all alone?" he demanded. "With the
+country full of tramps and--"
+
+"Don't! It's cowardly of you to frighten me. They say the railroads are
+swarming with tramps, too. Won't you please go and see if Mr. Dudley is
+anywhere in sight?"
+
+"It was mean of me, I confess. Please lie down. It's getting cold. Pull
+this raincoat over yourself. I'll walk out and--"
+
+"Oh, but you are a determined person. And very foolish, too. Why should
+you lose a lot of sleep just for me when--?"
+
+"There is no reason why two men should fail you to-night, Mrs.--Miss--"
+
+"Miss Dering," she said, humbled.
+
+"When you choose to retire, Miss Dering, you will find your room quite
+ready," he said with fine gallantry, bowing low as he stood in the
+doorway. "I will be just outside on the platform, so don't be uneasy."
+
+He quickly faded into the night, leaving her standing there, petulant,
+furious, yet with admiration in her eyes. Ten minutes later he heard her
+call. She was sitting on the edge of the improvised couch, smiling
+sweetly, even timidly.
+
+"It must be cold out there. You must wear this."
+
+She came toward him, the raincoat in one hand, the purple parasol in the
+other. He took the parasol only and departed without a word. She gasped
+and would have called after him, but there was no use. With a perplexed
+frown and smile she went slowly, dubiously toward the folded bed.
+
+Rossiter smoked three cigars and walked two miles up and down the
+platform, swinging the parasol absent-mindedly, before he ventured to look
+inside the room again. In that time he had asked and answered many
+questions in his mind. He saw that it would be necessary to change his
+plans if he was to watch her successfully. She evidently gave out Eagle
+Nest to blind her husband. Somehow he was forgetting that the task before
+him was disagreeable and undignified. What troubled him most was how to
+follow them if Havens--or Dudley--put in an appearance for the
+three-thirty train. He began to curse Everett Havens softly but potently.
+
+When he looked into the waiting-room she was sound asleep on the bench.
+It delighted him to see that she had taken him at his word and was lying
+upon his clothes. Cautiously he took a seat on the door-sill. The night
+was as still as death and as lonesome as the grave. For half an hour he
+sat gazing upon the tired, pretty face and the lithe young figure of the
+sleeper. He found himself dreaming, although he was wide awake--never more
+so. It occurred to him that he would be immensely pleased to hear that
+Havens's reason for failing her was due to an accident in which he had
+been killed.
+
+"Those clothes will have to be pressed the first thing to-morrow," he
+said to himself, but without a trace of annoyance. "Hang it all, she
+doesn't look like that sort of woman," his mind switched. "But just think
+of being tied up to an old crocodile like Wharton! Gee! One oughtn't to
+blame her!"
+
+Then he went forth into the night once more and listened for the sound of
+buggy wheels. It was almost time for the arrival of the belated man from
+the country, and he was beginning to pray that he would not appear at all.
+It came to his mind that he should advise her to return to New York in the
+morning. At last his watch told him that the train was due to pass in five
+minutes. And still no buggy! Good! He felt an exhilaration that threatened
+to break into song.
+
+Softly he stole back into the waiting-room, prepared to awaken her before
+the train shot by. Something told him that the rumble and roar would
+terrify her if she were asleep. Going quite close to her he bent forward
+and looked long and sadly upon the perfect face. Her hair was somewhat
+disarranged, her hat had a very hopeless tilt, her lashes swept low over
+the smooth cheek, but there was an almost imperceptible choke in her
+breathing. In her small white hand she clasped a handkerchief tightly, and
+--yes, he was sure of it--there were tear-stains beneath her lashes. There
+came to him the faint sob which lingers long in the breath of one who has
+cried herself to sleep. The spy passed his hand over his brow, sighed,
+shook his head and turned away irresolutely. He remembered that she was
+waiting for a man who was not her husband.
+
+Far down the track a bright star came shooting toward Fossingford. He
+knew it to be the headlight of the flyer. With a breath of relief he saw
+that he was the only human being on the platform. Havens had failed again.
+This time he approached the recumbent one determinedly. She was awake the
+instant he touched her shoulder.
+
+"Oh," she murmured, sitting erect and looking about, bewildered. "Is
+it--has he--oh, you are still here? Has he come?"
+
+"No, Miss Dering, he is not here," and added, under his breath, "damn
+him!" Then aloud, "The train is coming."
+
+"And he didn't come?" she almost wailed.
+
+"I fancy you'd better try to sleep until morning. There's nothing to stay
+awake for," although it came with a pang.
+
+"Absolutely nothing," she murmured, and his pride took a respectful tumble.
+
+As she began to rearrange her hair, rather clumsily spoiling a charming
+effect, he remonstrated.
+
+"Don't bother about your hair." She looked at him in wonder for an
+instant, a little smile finally creeping to her lips. He felt that she
+understood something. "Maybe he'll come after all," he added quickly.
+
+"What are you doing with my parasol?" she asked sleepily.
+
+"I'm carrying it to establish your identity with Dudley if he happens to
+come. He'll recognize the purple parasol, you know."
+
+"Oh, I see," she said dubiously. "He gave it to me for a birthday present."
+
+"I knew it," he muttered.
+
+"What?"
+
+"I mean I knew he'd recognize it," he explained.
+
+The flyer shot through Fossingford at that juncture, a long line of
+roaring shadows. There was silence between them until the rumble was lost
+in the distance.
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd like to go out on the platform for awhile," she
+said finally, resignation in her eyes. "Perhaps he's out there, wondering
+why the train didn't stop."
+
+"It's cold out there. Just slip into my coat, Miss Dering." He held the
+raincoat for her, and she mechanically slipped her arms into the sleeves.
+She shivered, but smiled sweetly up at him.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Rollins, you are very thoughtful and very kind to me."
+
+They walked out into the darkness. After a turn or two in silence she
+took the arm he proffered. He admired the bravery with which she was
+trying to convince him that she was not so bitterly disappointed. When she
+finally spoke her voice was soft and cool, just as a woman's always is
+before the break.
+
+"He was to have taken me to his uncle's house, six miles up in the
+country. His aunt and a young lady from the South, with Mr. Dudley and me,
+are to go to Eagle Nest to-morrow for a month."
+
+"How very odd," he said with well-assumed surprise. "I, too, am going to
+Eagle Nest for a month or so."
+
+She stopped stock-still, and he could feel that she was staring at him
+hardly.
+
+"You are going there?" she half whispered.
+
+"They say it is a quiet, restful place," he said. "One reaches it by
+stage over-land, I believe." She was strangely silent during the remainder
+of the walk. Somehow he felt amazingly sorry for her. "I hope I may see
+something of you while we are there," he said at last.
+
+"I imagine I couldn't help it if I were to try," she said. They were in
+the path of the light from the window, and he saw the strange little smile
+on her face. "I think I'll lie down again. Won't you find a place to
+sleep, Mr. Rollins? I can't bear the thought of depriving you--"
+
+"I am the slave of your darkness," he said gravely.
+
+She left him, and he lit another cigar. Daylight came at last to break up
+his thoughts, and then his tired eyes began to look for the man and buggy.
+Fatigued and weary, he sat upon his steamer trunk, his back to the wall.
+There he fell sound asleep.
+
+He was awakened by some one shaking him gently by the shoulder.
+
+"You are a very sound sleeper, Mr. Rollins," said a familiar voice, but
+it was gay and sprightly. He looked up blankly, and it was a full
+half-minute before he could get his bearings.
+
+A young woman with a purple parasol stood beside him, laughing merrily,
+and at her side was a tall, dark, very good-looking young man.
+
+"I couldn't go without saying good-by to you, Mr. Rollins, and thanking
+you again for the care you have taken of me," she was saying. He finally
+saw the little gloved hand that was extended toward him. Her companion was
+carrying her jacket and the little travelling-bag.
+
+"Oh--er--good-by, and don't mention it," he stammered, struggling to his
+feet. "Was I asleep?"
+
+"Asleep at your post, sir. Mr. Dudley--oh, this is Mr. Dudley, Mr.
+Rollins--came in ten minutes ago and found--us--both--asleep."
+
+"Isn't it lucky Mr. Dudley happens to be an honest man?" said Rossiter,
+in a manner so strange that the smile froze on the face of the other man.
+The unhappy barrister caught the quick glance that passed between them,
+and was vaguely convinced that they had been discussing him while he
+slept. Something whispered to him that they had guessed the nature of his
+business.
+
+"My telegram was not delivered to him until this morning. Wasn't it
+provoking?" she was saying.
+
+"What time is it now?" asked Rossiter.
+
+"Half-past seven," responded Dudley rather sharply. His black eyes were
+fastened steadily upon those of the questioner. "Mr. Van Haltford's man
+came in and got Miss Dering's telegram yesterday, but it was not delivered
+to me until a neighbor came to the house with both the message and
+messenger in charge. Joseph had drunk all the whisky in Fossingford.
+
+"Then there's no chance for me to get a drink, I suppose," said Rossiter
+with a wry smile.
+
+"Do you need one?" asked Miss Dering saucily.
+
+"I have a headache."
+
+"A pick-me-up is what you want," said Dudley coldly.
+
+"My dear sir, I haven't been drunk," remonstrated Rossiter sharply. His
+hearers laughed and he turned red but cold with resentment.
+
+"See, Mr. Rollins, I have smoothed out your clothes and folded them," she
+said, pointing to her one-time couch. "I couldn't pack them in your trunk
+because you were sitting on it. Shall I help you now?"
+
+"No, I thank you," he said ungraciously. "I can toss 'em in any old way."
+
+He set about doing it without another word. His companions stood over
+near the window and conversed earnestly in words too low for him to
+distinguish. From the corner of his eye he could see that Dudley's face
+was hard and uncompromising, while hers was eager and imploring. The man
+was stubbornly objecting to something, and she was just as decided in an
+opposite direction.
+
+"He's finding fault and she's trying to square it with him. Oh, my
+beauties, you'll have a hard time to shake off one Samuel Rossiter.
+They're suspicious--or he is, at least. Some one has tipped me off to
+them, I fancy."
+
+"I'm sorry they are so badly mussed, Mr. Rollins, but they did make a
+very comfortable bed," she said, walking over to him. Her cheeks were
+flushed and her eyes were gleaming. "You are going to Eagle Nest to-day?"
+
+"Just as soon as I can get a conveyance. There is a stage-coach at nine,
+Miss Dering."
+
+"We will have room for you on our break," she said simply. Her eyes met
+his bravely and then wavered. Rossiter's heart gave a mighty leap.
+
+"Permit me to second Miss Dering's invitation," said Dudley, coming over.
+The suggestion of a frown on his face made Rossiter only too eager to
+accept the unexpected invitation. "My aunt and Miss Crozier are outside
+with the coachman. You can have your luggage sent over in the stage. It is
+fourteen miles by road, so we should be under way, Mr. Rollins."
+
+As Rossiter followed them across the platform he was saying to himself:
+
+"Well, the game's on. Here's where I begin to earn my salary. I'll hang
+out my sign when I get back to New York: 'Police Spying. Satisfaction
+guaranteed. References given.' Hang it all, I hate to do this to her.
+She's an awfully good sort, and--and--But I don't like this damned Havens!"
+
+Almost before he knew it he was being presented to two handsome,
+fashionably dressed young women who sat together in the rear seat of the
+big mountain break.
+
+"Every cloud has its silver lining," Miss Dering was saying. "Let me
+present you to Mr. Dudley's aunt, Mrs. Van Haltford, and to Miss Crozier,
+Mr. Rollins."
+
+In a perfect maze of emotions, he found himself bowing before the two
+ladies, who smiled distantly and uncertainly. Dudley's aunt? That dashing
+young creature his aunt? Rossiter was staggered by the boldness of the
+claim. He could scarce restrain the scornful, brutal laugh of derision at
+this ridiculous play upon his credulity. To his secret satisfaction he
+discovered that the entire party seemed nervous and ill at ease. There was
+a trace of confusion in their behavior. He heard Miss Dering explain that
+he was to accompany the party and he saw the poorly concealed look of
+disapproval and polite inquiry that went between the two ladies and
+Dudley. There was nothing for it, however, now that Miss Dering had
+committed herself, and he was advised to look to his luggage without delay.
+
+He hurried into the station to arrange for the transportation of his
+trunk by stage, all the while smiling maliciously in his sleeve. Looking
+surreptitiously from a window he saw the quartet, all of them now on the
+break, arguing earnestly over--him, he was sure. Miss Dering was
+plaintively facing the displeasure of the trio. The coachman's averted
+face wore a half-grin. The discussion ended abruptly as Rossiter
+reappeared, but there was a coldness in the air that did not fail to
+impress him as portentous.
+
+"I'm the elephant on their hands--the proverbial hot coal," he thought
+wickedly. "Well, they've got to bear it even if they can't grin." Then
+aloud cheerily: "All aboard! We're off!" He took his seat beside the
+driver. The events of the ensuing week are best chronicled by the
+reproduction of Rossiter's own diary or report, with liberties in the
+shape of an author's comments.
+
+
+THURSDAY.
+
+
+"Settled comfortably in Eagle Nest House. Devilish rugged and
+out-of-the-way place. Mrs. Van Haltford is called Aunt Josephine. She and
+Miss Debby Crozier have rooms on the third floor. Mine is next to theirs,
+Havens's is next to mine, and Mrs. Wharton has two rooms beyond his. We
+are not unlike a big family party. They're rather nice to me. I go
+walking with Aunt Josephine. I don't understand why I'm sandwiched in
+between Havens and Aunt Josephine. Otherwise the arrangement is neat.
+There is a veranda outside our windows. We sit upon it. Aunt Josephine
+is a great bluff, but she's clever. She's never napping. I've tried to
+pump her. Miss Crozier is harmless. She doesn't care. Havens never takes
+his eyes off Mrs. W. when they are together. She looks at him a good bit,
+too. They don't pay much attention to me. Aunt Josephine's husband is
+very old and very busy. He can't take vacations. Everybody went to bed
+early to-night. No evidence to-day."
+
+
+FRIDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"Havens and Mrs. W. went hill-climbing this afternoon and were gone for
+an hour before I missed them. Then I took Aunt Jo and Debby out for a
+quick climb. Confound Aunt Jo! She got tired in ten minutes and Debby
+wouldn't go on without her. I think it was a put-up job. The others didn't
+return till after six. She asked me if I'd like to walk about the grounds
+after dinner. Said I would. We did. Havens went with us. Couldn't shake
+him to save my life."
+
+
+SATURDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"I have to watch myself constantly to keep from calling her Mrs. Wharton.
+I believe writing her real name is bad policy. It makes me forget. After
+this I shall call her Miss Dering, and I'll speak of him as Dudley. This
+morning he asked me to call him 'Jim.' He calls me 'Sam.' Actors do get
+familiar. When she came downstairs to go driving with him this morning
+I'll swear she was the prettiest thing I ever saw. They took a lunch and
+were gone for hours. I'd like to punch his face. She was very quiet all
+evening, and I fancied she avoided me. I smelt liquor on his breath just
+before bedtime.
+
+"_One A. M._--I thought everybody had gone to bed, but they are out
+there on the veranda talking. Just outside her windows. I distinctly heard
+him call her 'dearest.' Something must have alarmed them, for they parted
+abruptly. He walked the veranda for an hour, all alone. Plenty of
+evidence."
+
+
+SUNDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"For appearance's sake he took Miss Crozier for a walk to-day. I went to
+the chapel down the hill with Miss Dering and Aunt Josephine. Aunt
+Josephine put a ten-dollar bill in the box. Thinks she's squaring herself
+with the Lord, I suppose. Miss Dering was not at all talkative and gave
+every sign of being uncomfortable because he had the audacity to go
+walking with another girl. In the afternoon she complained of being ill
+and went to her room. Later on she sent for Dudley and Mrs. Van Haltford.
+They were in her room all afternoon. I smoked on the terrace with Debby.
+She is the most uninteresting girl I ever met. But she's on to their game.
+I know it because she forgot herself once, when I mentioned Miss Dering's
+illness, and said: 'Poor girl! She is in a most trying position. Don't you
+think Mr. Dudley is a splendid fellow?' I said that he was very good-
+looking, and she seemed to realize she had said something she ought not to
+have said and shut up. I'm sorry she's sick, though. I miss that parasol
+dreadfully. She always has it, and I can see her a mile away. Usually he
+carries it, though. Well, I suppose he has a right--as original owner. Jim
+and I smoked together this evening, but he evidently smells a mouse. He
+did not talk much, and I caught him eying me strangely several times."
+
+
+MONDAY NIGHT.
+
+
+"Dudley has departed. I believe they are on to me. He went to Boston this
+afternoon, and he actually was gruff with me just before leaving. The size
+of the matter is, some one has posted him, and they are all up to my game
+as a spy. I wish I were out of it. Never was so ashamed of a thing in my
+life; don't feel like looking any one in the face. They've all been nice
+to me. But what's the difference? They're all interested. She went to the
+train with him and--the rest of us. I'll never forget how sad she looked
+as she held his hand and bade him good-by. I carried the parasol back to
+the hotel, and I know I hurt her feelings when I maliciously said that it
+would look well with a deep black border. She almost looked a hole through
+me. Fine eyes. I don't know what is coming next. She is liable to slip out
+from under my eye at any time and fly away to meet him somewhere else. I
+telegraphed this message to Grover & Dickhut:
+
+"He has gone. She still here. What shall I do?
+
+"Got this answer:
+
+"Stay there and watch. They suspect you. Don't let her get away.
+
+"But how the devil am I to watch day and night?"
+
+The next week was rather an uneventful one for Rossiter. There was no
+sign of Havens and no effort on her part to leave Eagle Nest.
+
+As the days went by he became more and more vigilant. In fact, his watch
+was incessant and very much of a personal one. He walked and drove with
+her, and he invented all sorts of excuses to avoid Mrs. Van Haltford and
+Miss Crozier. The purple parasol and he had become almost inseparable
+friends. The fear that Havens might return at any time kept him in a fever
+of anxiety and dread. Now that he was beginning to know her for himself he
+could not endure the thought that she cared for another man. Strange to
+say, he did not think of her husband. Old Wharton had completely faded
+from his mind; it was Havens that he envied. He saw himself sinking into
+her net, falling before her wiles, but he did not rebel.
+
+He went to bed each night apprehensive that the next morning should find
+him alone and desolate at Eagle Nest, the bird flown. It hurt him to think
+that she would laugh over her feat of outwitting him. He was not guarding
+her for old Wharton now; he was in his own employ. All this time he knew
+it was wrong, and that she was trifling with him while the other was away.
+Yet he had eyes, ears, and a heart like all men, and they were for none
+save the pretty wife of Godfrey Wharton.
+
+He spoke to her on several occasions of Dudley and gnashed his teeth when
+he saw a look of sadness, even longing, come into her dark eyes. At such
+times he was tempted to tell her that he knew all, to confound her by
+charging her with guilt. But he could not collect the courage. For some
+unaccountable reason he held his bitter tongue. And so it was that
+handsome Sam Rossiter, spy and good fellow, fell in love with a woman who
+had a very dark page in her history.
+
+She received mail, of course, daily, but he was not sneak enough to pry
+into its secrets, even had the chance presented itself. Sometimes she
+tossed the letters away carelessly, but he observed that there were some
+which she guarded jealously.
+
+Once he heard her tell Aunt Josephine that she had a letter from "Jim."
+He began to discover that "Jim" was a forbidden subject and that he was
+not discussed; at least, not in his presence. Many times he saw the two
+women in earnest, rather cautious conversation, and instinctively felt
+that Havens was the subject. Mrs. Wharton appeared piqued and discontented
+after these little talks. He made this entry in his diary one night, a
+week after Havens went away:
+
+"I almost wish he'd come back and end the suspense. This thing is wearing
+on me. I was weighed to-day and I've lost ten pounds. Mrs. Van Haltford
+says I look hungry and advises me to try salt-water air. I'm hanged if I
+don't give up the job this week. I don't like it, anyhow. It doesn't seem
+square to be down here enjoying her society, taking her walking and all
+that, and all the time hunting up something with which to ruin her
+forever. I'll stick the week out, but I'm not decided whether I'll produce
+any evidence against her if the Wharton _vs._ Wharton case ever does
+come to trial. I don't believe I could. I don't want to be a sneak."
+
+One day Rossiter and the purple parasol escorted the pretty trifler over
+the valley to Bald Top, half a mile from the hotel. Mrs. Van Haltford and
+Miss Crozier were to join them later and were to bring with them Colonel
+Deming and Mr. Vincent, two friends who had lately arrived. The hotel was
+rapidly filling with fashionable guests, and Mrs. Wharton had petulantly
+observed, a day or two before, that the place was getting crowded and she
+believed she would go away soon. On the way over she said to him:
+
+"I have about decided to go down to Velvet Springs for the rest of the
+month. Don't you think it is getting rather crowded here?"
+
+"I have been pretty well satisfied," he replied, in an injured tone. "I
+don't see why you should want to leave here."
+
+"Why should I stay if I am tired of the place?" she asked demurely,
+casting a roguish glance at his sombre face. He clenched the parasol and
+grated his teeth.
+
+"She's leading me on, confound her!" he thought. At the same time his
+head whirled and his heart beat a little faster. "You shouldn't," he said,
+"if you are tired. There's more of an attraction at Velvet Springs, I
+suppose."
+
+"Have you been there?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You answered rather snappishly. Have you a headache?"
+
+"Pardon me; I didn't intend to answer snappishly, as you call it. I only
+wanted to be brief."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I wanted to change the subject."
+
+"Shall we talk of the weather?"
+
+"I suppose we may as well," he said resignedly. She was plainly laughing
+at him now. "Look here," he said, stopping and looking into her eyes
+intently and somewhat fiercely, "why do you want to go to Velvet Springs?"
+
+"Why should you care where I go?" she answered blithely, although her
+eyes wavered.
+
+"It's because you are unhappy here and because some one else is there.
+I'm not blind, Mrs.--Miss Dering."
+
+"You have no right to talk to me in that manner, Mr. Rollins. Come, we
+are to go back to the hotel at once," she said coldly. There was steel in
+her eyes.
+
+He met her contemptuous look for a moment and quailed.
+
+"I beg your pardon. I am a fool, but you have made me such," he said
+baldly.
+
+"I? I do not understand you," and he could not but admire the clever,
+innocent, widespread eyes.
+
+"You will understand me some day," he said, and to his amazement she
+flushed and looked away. They continued their walk, but there was a
+strange shyness in her manner that puzzled him.
+
+"When is Dudley expected back here?" he asked abruptly.
+
+She started sharply and gave him a quick, searching look. There was a
+guilty expression in her eyes, and he muttered something ugly under his
+breath.
+
+"I do not know, Mr. Rollins," she answered.
+
+"When did you hear from him last?" he demanded half savagely.
+
+"I do not intend to be catechized by you, sir," she exclaimed, halting
+abruptly. "We shall go back. You are very ugly to-day and I am surprised."
+
+"I supposed you had letters from him every day," he went on ruthlessly.
+She gave him a look in which he saw pain and the shadow of tears, and then
+she turned and walked swiftly toward the hotel. His conscience smote him
+and he turned after her. For the next ten minutes he was on his knees,
+figuratively, pleading for forgiveness. At last she paused and smiled
+sweetly into his face. Then she calmly turned and resumed the journey to
+Bald Top, saying demurely:
+
+"We have nearly a quarter of a mile to retrace, all because you were so
+hateful."
+
+"And you so obdurate," he added blissfully. He had tried to be severe and
+angry with her and had failed.
+
+That very night the expected came to pass. Havens appeared on the scene,
+the same handsome, tragic-looking fellow, a trifle care-worn perhaps, but
+still--an evil genius. Rossiter ran plump into him in the hallway and was
+speechless for a moment. He unconsciously shook hands with the new
+arrival, but his ears were ringing so with the thuds of his heart that he
+heard but few of the brisk words addressed to him. After the eager actor
+had left him standing humbly in the hall he managed to recall part of what
+had been said. He had come up on the express from Boston and could stay
+but a day or two. Did Mr. Rossiter know whether Miss Dering was in her
+room? The barrister also distinctly remembered that he did not ask for his
+aunt, which would have been the perfectly natural query.
+
+Half an hour later Havens was strolling about the grounds, under the lamp
+lights, in and out of dark nooks, and close beside him was a slim figure
+in white. Their conversation was earnest, their manner secretive; that
+much the harassed Rossiter could see from the balcony. His heart grew sore
+and he could almost feel the tears of disappointment surging to his eyes.
+A glance in his mirror had shown him a face haggard and drawn, eyes
+strange and bright. He had not slept well, he knew; he had worn himself
+out in this despicable watch; he had grown to care for the creature he had
+been hired to spy upon. No wonder he was haggard.
+
+Now he was jealous--madly, fiendishly jealous. In his heart there was the
+savage desire to kill the other man and to denounce the woman. Pacing the
+grounds about the hotel, he soon worked himself into a fever, devilish in
+its hotness. More than once he passed them, and it was all he could do to
+refrain from springing upon them. At length he did what most men do: he
+took a drink. Whisky flew down his throat and to his brain. In his mind's
+eye he saw her in the other's arms--and he could bear it no longer!
+Rushing to his room, he threw himself on the bed and cursed.
+
+"Good heaven! I love her! I love her better than all the world! I can't
+stay here and see any more of it! By thunder, I'll go back to New York and
+they can go to the devil! So can old Wharton! And so can Grover & Dickhut!"
+
+He leaped to his feet, dashed headlong to the telegraph office
+downstairs, and ten minutes later this message was flying to Grover &
+Dickhut:
+
+Get some one else for this job. I'm done with it. Coming home.--SAM.
+
+"I'm coming on the first train, too," muttered the sender, as he hurried
+up-stairs. "I can pack my trunk for the night stage. I'd like to say good-
+by to her, but I can't--I couldn't stand it. What's the difference? She
+won't care whether I go or stay--rather have me go. If I were to meet her
+now I'd--yes, by George--kiss her! It's wrong to love her, but--"
+
+There was nothing dignified about the manner in which big Sam Rossiter
+packed his trunk. He fairly stamped the clothing into it and did a lot of
+other absurd things. When he finally locked it and yanked out his watch
+his brow was wet and he was trembling. It had taken just five minutes to
+do the packing. His hat was on the back of his head, his collar was
+melting, and his cigar was chewed to a pulp. Cane and umbrella were yanked
+from behind the door and he was ready to fly. The umbrella made him think
+of a certain parasol, and his heart grew still and cold with the knowledge
+that he was never to carry it again.
+
+"I hope I don't meet any of 'em," he muttered, pulling himself together
+and rushing into the hall. A porter had already jerked his trunk down the
+stair steps.
+
+As he hastened after it he heard the swish of skirts and detected in the
+air a familiar odor, the subtle scent of a perfume that he could not
+forget were he to live a thousand years. The next moment she came swiftly
+around a corner in the hall, hurrying to her rooms. They met and both
+started in surprise, her eyes falling to his travelling-bag, and then
+lifting to his face in bewilderment. He checked his hurried flight and she
+came quite close to him. The lights in the hall were dim and the elevator
+car had dropped to regions below.
+
+"Where are you going?" she asked in some agitation.
+
+"I am going back to New York," he answered, controlling himself with an
+effort. She was so beautiful, there in the dim hallway.
+
+"To-night?" she asked in very low tones.
+
+"In half an hour."
+
+"And were you going without saying good-by to--to us?" she went on rapidly.
+
+He looked steadily down into her solemn eyes for a moment and an
+expression of pain, of longing, came into his own.
+
+"It couldn't make any difference whether I said good-by to you, and it
+would have been hard," he replied unsteadily.
+
+"Hard? I don't understand you," she said.
+
+"I didn't want to see you. Yes, I hoped to get away before you knew
+anything about it. Maybe it was cowardly, but it was the best way," he
+cried bitterly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she cried, and he detected alarm, confusion, guilt in
+her manner.
+
+"You know what I mean. I know everything--I knew it before I came here,
+before I saw you. It's why I am here, I'm ashamed to say. But, have no
+fear--have no fear! I've given up the job--the nasty job--and you can do
+as you please. The only trouble is that I have been caught in the web;
+I've been trapped myself. You've made me care for you. That's why I'm
+giving it all up. Don't look so frightened--I'll promise to keep your
+secret."
+
+Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, but no words came; she seemed to
+shrink from him as if he were the headsman and she his victim.
+
+"I'll do it, right or wrong!" he gasped suddenly. And in an instant his
+satchel clattered to the floor and his arms were straining the slight
+figure to his breast. Burning lips met hers and sealed them tight. She
+shivered violently, struggled for an instant in his mad embrace, but made
+no outcry. Gradually her free arm stole upward and around his neck and her
+lips responded to the passion in his. His kiss of ecstasy was returned.
+The thrill of joy that shot through him was almost overpowering. A dozen
+times he kissed her. Unbelieving, he held her from him and looked hungrily
+into her eyes. They were wet with tears.
+
+"Why do you go? I love you!" she whispered faintly.
+
+Then came the revulsion. With an oath he threw her from him. Her hands
+went to her temples and a moan escaped her lips.
+
+"Bah!" he snarled. "Get away from me! Heaven forgive me for being as weak
+as I've been to-night!"
+
+"Sam!" she wailed piteously.
+
+"Don't tell me anything! Don't try to explain! Be honest with one man, at
+least!"
+
+"You must be insane!" she cried tremulously.
+
+"Don't play innocent, madam. I _know_." In abject terror she shrank
+away from him. "But I have kissed you! If I live a thousand years I shall
+not forget its sweetness."
+
+He waved his hands frantically above her, grabbed up his suit-case and
+traps, and, with one last look at the petrified woman shrinking against
+the wall under the blasts of his vituperation, he dashed for the stairway.
+And so he left her, a forlorn, crushed figure.
+
+Blindly he tore downstairs and to the counter. He hardly knew what he was
+doing as he drew forth his pocket-book to pay his account.
+
+"Going away, Mr. Rollins?" inquired the clerk, glancing at the clock. It
+was eleven-twenty and the last stage-coach left for Fossingford at
+eleven-thirty, in time to catch the seven o'clock down train.
+
+"Certainly," was the excited answer.
+
+"A telegram came a few moments ago for you, sir, but I thought you were
+in bed," and the other tossed a little envelope out to him. Mechanically
+Rossiter tore it open. He was thinking of the cowering woman in the
+hallway and he was cursing himself for his brutality.
+
+He read the despatch with dizzy eyes and drooping jaw, once, twice,
+thrice. Then he leaned heavily against the counter and a coldness assailed
+his heart, so bitter that he felt his blood freezing. It read:
+
+What have you been doing? The people you were sent to watch sailed for
+Europe ten days ago.
+
+       GROVER & DICKHUT.
+
+The paper fell from his trembling fingers, but he regained it, natural
+instinct inspiring a fear that the clerk would read it.
+
+"Good Lord!" he gasped.
+
+"Bad news, Mr. Rollins?" asked the clerk sympathetically, but the
+stricken, bewildered man did not answer.
+
+What did it mean? A vast faintness attacked him as the truth began to
+penetrate. Out of the whirling mystery came the astounding, ponderous
+realization that he had blundered, that he had wronged her, that he had
+accused her of--Oh, that dear, stricken figure in the hallway above!
+
+He leaped to the staircase. Three steps at a time he flew back to the
+scene of the miserable tragedy. What he thought, what he felt as he rushed
+into the hallway can only be imagined. She was gone--heartbroken, killed!
+And she had kissed him and said she loved him!
+
+A light shone through the transoms over the doors that led into her
+apartments. Quaking with fear, he ran down the hall and beat a violent
+tattoo upon her parlor door. Again he rapped, crazed by remorse, fear,
+love, pity, shame, and a hundred other emotions.
+
+"Who is it?" came in stifled tones from within.
+
+"It is I--Rossiter--I mean Rollins! I must see you--now! For pity's sake,
+let me in!"
+
+"How dare you--" she began shrilly; but he was not to be denied.
+
+"If you don't open this door I'll kick it in!" he shouted. "I must see
+you!"
+
+After a moment the door flew open and he stood facing her. She was like a
+queen. Her figure was as straight as an arrow, her eyes blazing. But there
+had been tears in them a moment before.
+
+"Another insult!" she exclaimed, and the scorn in her voice was
+withering. He paused abashed, for the first time realizing that he had
+hurt her beyond reparation. His voice faltered and the tears flew to his
+eyes.
+
+"I don't know what to say to you. It has been a mistake--a frightful
+mistake--and I don't know whether you'll let me explain. When I got
+downstairs I found this telegram and--for heaven's sake, let me tell you
+the wretched story. Don't turn away from me! You shall listen to me if I
+have to hold you!" His manner changed suddenly to the violent, imperious
+forcefulness of a man driven to the last resort.
+
+"Must I call for help?" she cried, thoroughly alarmed, once more the weak
+woman, face to face, as she thought, with an insane man.
+
+"I love you better than my own life, and I've hurt you terribly. I'm not
+crazy, Helen! But I've been a fool, and I'll go crazy if you don't give me
+a chance to explain."
+
+Whether she gave the chance or no he took it, and from his eager,
+pleading lips raced the whole story of his connection with the Wharton
+affair from first to last.
+
+He humbled himself, accused himself, ridiculed himself, and wound up by
+throwing himself upon her mercy, uttering protestations of the love which
+had really been his undoing.
+
+She heard him through without a word. The light in her eyes changed; the
+fear left them and the scorn fled. Instead there grew, by stages, wonder,
+incredulity, wavering doubt and--joy. She understood him and she loved
+him! The awful horror of that meeting in the hallway was swept away like
+unto the transformation scene in the fairy spectacle.
+
+When he fell upon his knee and sought to clasp her fingers in his cold
+hand she smiled, and, stooping over, placed both hands on his cheeks and
+kissed him.
+
+What followed her kiss of forgiveness may be more easily imagined than
+told.
+
+"You see it was perfectly natural for me to mistake you for Mrs.
+Wharton," he said after awhile. "You had the gray jacket, the sailor hat,
+the purple parasol, and you are beautiful. And, besides all that, you were
+found red-handed in that ridiculous town of Fossingford. Why shouldn't I
+have suspected you with such a preponderance of evidence against you?
+Anybody who would get off of a night train in Fossingford certainly ought
+to be ashamed of something."
+
+"But Fossingford is on the map, isn't it? One has a perfect right to get
+off where she likes, hasn't she, provided it is on the map?"
+
+"Not at all! That's what maps are for: to let you see where you don't get
+off."
+
+"But I was obliged to get off there. My ticket said 'Fossingford,' and,
+besides, I was to be met at the station in a most legitimate manner. You
+had no right to jump at conclusions."
+
+"Well, if you had not descended to earth at Fossingford I wouldn't be in
+heaven at Eagle Nest. Come to think of it, I believe you did quite the
+proper thing in getting off at Fossingford--no matter what the hour."
+
+"You must remember always that I have not taken you to task for a most
+flagrant piece of--shall I say indiscretion?"
+
+"Good Heavens!"
+
+"You stopped off at Fossingford for the sole purpose of seeing another
+woman."
+
+"That's all very fine, dear, but you'll admit that Dudley was an
+excellent substitute for Havens. Can't you see how easy it was to be
+mistaken?"
+
+"I won't fall into easy submission. Still, I believe I could recommend
+you as a detective. They usually do the most unheard of things--just as
+you have. Poor Jim Dudley an actor! Mistaken for such a man as you say
+Havens is! It is even more ridiculous than that I should be mistaken for
+Mrs. Wharton."
+
+"Say, I'd like to know something about Dudley. It was his confounded
+devotion to you that helped matters along in my mind. What is he to you?"
+
+"He came here to-night to repeat a question that had been answered
+unalterably once before. Jim Dudley? Have you never heard of James Dudley,
+the man who owns all of those big mines in South America, the man who--"
+
+"Who owns the yachts and automobiles and--and the railroad trains? Is he
+the one? The man with the millions? Good Lord! And you could have had him
+instead of me? Helen, I--I don't understand it. Why didn't you take him?"
+
+She hesitated a moment before answering brightly:
+
+"Perhaps it is because I have a fancy for the ridiculous."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Purple Parasol, by George Barr McCutcheon
+
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