Part 40 (1/2)

Turning suddenly in an opposite direction from that which he had at first taken, he found himself confronted by Harold Mainwaring and his party as they descended the court-house steps to the carriages in waiting.

Instantly the young men clasped hands, and the frank, blue eyes gazed into the piercing dark ones, with a friendliness of whose sincerity there could be no doubt.

”Egad, old fellow!” he exclaimed, in low tones, ”I'm glad to see you, though you have taken us rather by surprise. I'll not take back a word of the promise I made you, nor of what I've said about you, either.”

”I did not think you would, Hugh,” Harold replied, grasping the proffered hand heartily; ”I had a great deal of faith in you and in your word. I only regretted that I could not explain matters at the time; it seemed like taking advantage of you and your friends.h.i.+p, though I warned you that the future might make some unexpected revelations.”

”Well, I don't regret anything. I always said you had good blood in you, don't you know,” Hugh continued, with a boyish laugh, then added, a little huskily, ”I'll say this much, and I mean it. I would rather give up what I supposed was mine to you than to anybody else that know of.”

”Thank you, Hugh; I appreciate that, I a.s.sure you. Come around to the Waldorf, I would like to have a talk with you.”

”Indeed I will. Of course, I suppose it would be of no use to ask you up to the house; I couldn't expect you to come, but I'll see you as soon as I can,” and with another handclasp the young men parted.

On arriving at the Waldorf, a note was handed to Harold Mainwaring, with the information that the bearer had been waiting nearly an hour, as there was an answer expected. He well knew the writing; it was the same as that of the little missive given him on the first day of the inquest, and with darkening face he opened it and read the following lines:

”I must see you at once, and I beg of you to come to my apartments this afternoon at five o'clock, without fail. In the name of mercy, do not deny me this one favor. I can tell you something important for you to know, of which you little dream.

”ELEANOR HOUGHTON MAINWARING.”

After brief consultation with his attorneys, an answer was sent to the effect that he would call in compliance with the request, and a little later he started upon his strange errand.

With what wildly conflicting emotions Mrs. LaGrange in her apartments awaited his coming may perhaps be more easily imagined than portrayed. She had not recovered from the morning's shock, but was nerving herself for the coming ordeal; preparing to make her final, desperate throw in the game of life. Success now, in this last venture, would mean everything to her, while failure would leave her nothing, only blank despair. Pride, the dominant pa.s.sion of her life, struggled with a newly awakened love; doubt and dread and fear battled with hope, but even in the unequal contest, hope would not be vanquished.

Shortly before the hour appointed, Richard Hobson's card was handed her with the information that he must see her without delay. She understood the nature of his errand; she knew his coming was inevitable; her only desire was to postpone the meeting with him until after the interview with Harold Mainwaring, but on no account would she have him know of her appointment with the latter. She tore the bit of pasteboard in two.

”Tell him to call to-morrow,” she said to the messenger; but he soon returned, with another card on which was written,--

”Important! must see you to-day.”

It was nearly five. Quickly, with fingers trembling from her anxiety lest he delay too long, she wrote,--

”Call at eight o'clock this evening; I can see no one earlier.”

As she gave the card to the messenger, she glanced again at the little French clock on the mantel.

”Three hours,” she murmured; ”three hours in which to decide my fate!

If I succeed, I can bid defiance to that craven when he shall come to-night; if not--” she shuddered and walked over to the window, where she watched eagerly till she saw the cringing figure going hastily down the street.

He had but just disappeared around the corner of the block when a closed carriage was driven rapidly to the hotel, and a moment later Harold Scott Mainwaring was announced.

Her heart throbbed wildly as she turned to meet him, then suddenly stopped, seeming a dead weight in her breast, as her eyes met his.

For a moment neither spoke; once her lips moved, but no sound came from them. Before that face, hard and impa.s.sive as granite, and as cold, the impulse which she had felt to throw herself at his feet and plead for mercy and for love died within her; her tongue seemed paralyzed, powerless to utter a word, and the words she would have spoken fled from her brain.

With swift observation he noted the terrible change which the last weeks, and especially the last few hours, had wrought in the wretched woman before him, and the suffering, evidenced by her deathly pallor, her trembling agitation, and the look of dumb, almost hopeless pleading in her eyes, appealed to him far more than any words could have done.

He was the first to speak, and though there was no softening of the stern features, yet his tones were gentle, almost pitying, as he said,--

”I have come as you requested. Why did you send for me? What have you to say?”

At the sound of his voice she seemed somewhat rea.s.sured, and advancing a few steps towards him, she repeated his words,--