Part 39 (1/2)
Denham was the overseer, and George would not dismiss him. Then Powell returned to England. Afterwards when he heard from me that George was completely ruined, he wrote about the money.”
”Did he say he would leave the money to George?”
”Not exactly that. He said that Kent was ruined also, and explained that if he could make a fortune he would leave it equally divided between George and Kent, as he did not intend to marry himself.”
”But he did not leave his money equally divided,” said Giles.
”No. But at that time Kent was not married, and Powell had not gone to Australia to make his money. Whether he liked Kent better than George I don't know, but, as you are aware, he left the money first to Daisy--knowing that Kent was dead--and afterwards, should she die, to George and his descendants.”
”Then the money which Denham holds as Franklin is rightfully Anne's?”
”Yes. Now you are beginning to see. But don't be in too much of a hurry.
I want to tell you how my elopement came about.”
Ware nodded, and composed himself to listen. The Princess resumed.
”I was happy at first with George. I really was in love with him, and for two years we were devoted to one another. Anne was born, and she drew us still closer together. Then Denham chose to fall in love with me. I repelled him with scorn, but did not tell my husband, as I dreaded lest George, who had a fiery temper, should kill the man. I simply kept Denham at his distance. He vowed to be revenged, and gradually ruined George. He made him neglect the plantation, and spend more money than he could afford. He induced him to drink, and then George, who had not a very strong will, began to run after other women. I was furious, and told him about Denham. He was so besotted with the creature that he refused to listen to me. Powell tried to stop George's downward course, but without result. Then he was called back to England, and I was left to battle against my enemy alone. My father and mother were both dead, and I could do nothing. Denham constantly inflamed George against me.
Our house was like h.e.l.l.”
Here she stopped to draw a long breath and control her emotion. Giles pitied her profoundly, as he guessed how she had suffered. However, he did not interrupt her, and she continued in a few moments.
”Prince Karacsay came to the island. He was travelling for pleasure, and in his own yacht. He fell in love with me. Seeing how miserable I was, he implored me to fly with him. But I would not. I had lost much of my love for George, who, under the bad influence of Denham, treated me so cruelly. But there was my child--my little Anne--to consider. I declined to fly. Our plantation was not far from the seash.o.r.e. In a creek the Prince had anch.o.r.ed his yacht. Denham was making my husband jealous, and my life became unbearable. Oh!”--she threw up her arms--”not even the years of peace that I have had can obliterate the memory of that terrible time.” And she wept.
Still, Ware did not interrupt, thinking it best that she should not be questioned too much. With a great effort she controlled herself, and resumed her pitiful story.
”One night,” she went on in a low voice, ”the climax came. The Prince had been to dinner. He had to go, because George was so violent. Denham had got my husband to drink, and his paroxysms of anger became terrible.
The Prince wanted to stop to protect me, but I asked him to go. It was a rainy night, a violent thunderstorm was going on. I locked myself in the nursery, to protect myself from the fury of George. He came to the door and broke it down.” She paused, and her voice leaped an octave. ”George turned me out into the rain.”
”Great G.o.d! Did he go that far?”
She was on her feet by this time pacing the room.
”He turned me out into the stormy night. I fled from his fury, drenched with rain. At the gates of the gardens round the house I met with the Prince. He had been hanging round the place fearful for my life. He implored me to come on board the yacht and stop the night. I was almost distracted with terror and anger. I went.” She paused again. ”From that moment I was lost.”
”It was not your fault,” Giles a.s.sured her.
”No; it was not my husband's fault either, but the fault of that wicked wretch Denham. He came the next morning, guessing where I had gone in my distress. He brought a note from George, who bade me go with my lover, the Prince. It was a lie. The Prince was no lover of mine then. I demanded to see my child, but George refused. It was all Denham--Denham.
George was under the thumb of the wretch. The Prince behaved like an honorable gentleman, and spoke up for me. But it was all of no use.
George was determined to have a divorce.”
”You mean Denham was determined to have one,” corrected Giles.
”Yes, yes. He was the one who ruined me. Then the Prince said he would make me his wife as soon as the decree was p.r.o.nounced. I agreed. What else could I do? My child was refused to me. I was blamed by every one, and the whole island was against me. I sailed for Europe in Prince Karacsay's yacht. A few months later the decree was p.r.o.nounced, and he made me his wife. Since then I have been happy--that is as happy as I could be, knowing that my child was lost.”
”Did you make inquiries about her?”
”Some years later I did. Then I learned that George, with the child and Denham, had sailed for Europe. The vessel was wrecked. The report said that George Franklin and his child were saved. Denham's name was given as one who was drowned. I rejoiced when I saw that punishment had overtaken my enemy.”