Part 42 (1/2)

”Voyage! I'm not going abroad,” she answered, with well-acted surprise.

”I beg pardon. I fancied it was a party, from something I heard. Your cousin goes alone, then?”

”Alone-unless my husband is persuaded to join him. But that is not probable,” and an irrepressible sigh escaped her.

”I hope he is quite recovered from the wounds he received last winter.”

As I spoke I fixed my eye on Devon; he did not turn, but I saw his hand close on the meerschaum with such a sudden pressure that the amber mouthpiece snapped.

”Oh, yes; he is entirely himself again, and as devoted to business as ever,” answered Mrs. Vaughn, looking from me to her cousin with evident uneasiness.

Mrs. Wayne, with a woman's quick instinct, perceived that something was amiss between us and adroitly changed the conversation. Nothing more was said, but I was satisfied that my suspicions were correct, and not wis.h.i.+ng to rouse theirs, I never alluded to the subject, but watched them closely all that week.

They drove, walked, and were much together, and more than once I caught a look, a word, that confirmed my belief in their treachery to the good old man who trusted them.

One evening as I came up the unfrequented path from the beach, I heard Devon pa.s.sionately declaring that he could not leave her, and Mabel tearfully beseeching him to remember the duty she owed her husband.

”By Jove, it's too bad!” I muttered, much excited. ”She wants to do right in spite of her love for this man, and he tempts her. She needs a friend to help her, even against her will, and the struggle that is wearing upon her. Mrs. Wayne is a gossip, so it won't do to ask her advice, for the story would be all over town in a day. No; I'll write to the old man, and let him manage the affair as he likes. It's none of my business, of course, and I shall get into trouble, I dare say; but as fate has mixed me up in the matter, I'll do a man's duty to the injured old party. She don't know that Devon is the ruffian who robbed her husband, but I believe he was, for his looks, his occupation, his b.l.o.o.d.y hands, and the coincidence of time and place are all against him. I'll inform Mr. Vaughn that I have a clue to the real offender; I'll get him down here privately, and tell him all.”

In a fever of virtuous indignation I hurried to my room, and feeling that no time was to be lost, wrote an urgent letter to Mr. Vaughn, begging him to come down by the late train the next night and I would meet him to impart some most important information concerning the robbery and other matters of vital interest.

After the letter was gone and my ardor had somewhat subsided, I began to doubt the wisdom of my act, and to wish it were not past recall. However, I comforted myself by thinking of the wrong and suffering I hoped to spare the old man by what might seem my officious meddling, and soon worked myself into a state of stern complacency at the important part I was playing in this little drama.

My manner must have been peculiar that evening and the next day, for even Mrs. Vaughn observed it, and usually she took no more notice of me than if I had been a child.

Devon looked worried, and both were evidently preparing to leave, though neither spoke of it.

When evening came I stole away to the station, and was rather alarmed to see Mr. Vaughn alight, followed by a person whom I knew to be a policeman without his badge.

The old gentleman seemed rather excited, and my courage began to fail as the affair approached a climax. Telling him I wished to speak to him in private, the officer was left below, and we went quietly to my room.

There I told him all, and was much amazed at the utter incredulity of the old man. He wouldn't believe a word of it, though I repeated the scene in the Park, the midnight meeting, and showed the little ornament which Devon owned and which proved that he had been abroad that night in a strange dress and with b.l.o.o.d.y hands.

As I repeated, explained, and expostulated, Mr. Vaughn's faith began to waver. His own memory evidently brought up certain inexplicable and unusual events, words, or acts of the young pair and as he recalled them, his face darkened, his manner changed, and doubt slowly began to creep into his unsuspicious mind.

”Will you come with me and repeat this story before them? You accuse them of heinous offenses; they should have the privilege of clearing themselves. This you owe us all, for, having stirred in the affair, you must help to clear it up.”

He said this after a long pause, during which he sat with his hands over his pale face, evidently suffering much in even admitting for an hour any doubt of his young wife.

His unbelief rather nettled me, and feeling sure of my facts, I consented, having a private pique against both Devon and Mrs. Vaughn for the supreme indifference with which they treated me, evidently regarding me as a boy.

I led the way to Mabel's apartments, and, finding my tap unanswered, was about to knock louder, when Mr. Vaughn abruptly opened the door and entered.

A feeling of triumph possessed me, for the scene before us confirmed a part of my charge most conclusively.

Mrs. Vaughn sat on the little balcony in the moonlight, and leaning toward her, with both her hands in his, was Devon, saying, in a low, pa.s.sionate tone: ”My darling, why pause? The old man's claim can easily be set aside, nay, ought to be, for you love me, and I-”