Part 112 (1/2)
”I suspect the postman has been tampered with. I write to Mr. Ransome to look into that. But what you might learn for me is, whether any body lately has had any opportunity to stop letters addressed to 'Woodbine Villa.' That seems to point to Mr. Carden, and he was never a friend of mine. But, somehow, I don't think he would do it.
”You see, I ask myself two questions. Is there any man in the world who has a motive strong enough to set him tampering with my letters? and, again, is there any man base enough to do such an act? And the answer to both questions is the same. I have a rival, and he is base enough for any thing. Judge for yourself. I as good as saved that Coventry's life one snowy night, and all I asked in return was that he wouldn't blow me to the Trades, and so put my life in jeopardy. He gave his word of honor he wouldn't. But he broke his word. One day, when Grotait and I were fast friends, and never thought to differ again, Grotait told me this Coventry was the very man that came to him and told him where I was working. Such a lump of human dirt as that--for you can't call him a man--must be capable of any thing.”
Here the reading of the letter was interrupted by an incident.
There was on the toilet-table a stiletto, with a pearl handle. It was a small thing, but the steel rather long, and very bright and pointed.
The unfortunate bride, without lifting her head from the table, had reached out her hand, and was fingering this stiletto. Jael Dence went and took it gently away, and put it out of reach. The bride went on fingering, as if she had still got hold of it.
Amboyne exchanged an approving glance with Jael, and Raby concluded the letter.
”I shall be home in a few days after this; and, if I find my darling well and happy, there's no great harm done. I don't mind my own trouble and anxiety, great as they are, but if any scoundrel has made her unhappy, or made her believe I am dead, or false to my darling, by G.o.d, I'll kill him, though I hang for it next day!”
Crushed, benumbed, and broken as Grace Coventry was, this sentence seemed to act on her like an electric shock.
She started wildly up. ”What! my Henry die like a felon--for a villain like him, and an idiot like me! You won't allow that; nor you--nor I.”
A soft step came to the door, and a gentle tap.
”Who is that?” said Dr. Amboyne.
”The bridegroom,” replied a soft voice.
”You can't come in here,” said Raby, roughly.
”Open the door,” said the bride.
Jael went to the door, but looked uncertain.
”Don't keep the bridegroom out,” said Grace, reproachfully. Then, in a voice as sweet as his own, ”I want to see him; I want to speak to him.”
Jael opened the door slowly, for she felt uneasy. Raby shrugged his shoulders contemptuously at Grace's condescending to speak to the man, and in so amiable a tone.
Coventry entered, and began, ”My dear Grace, the carriage is ready--”
No sooner had she got him fairly into the room, than the bride s.n.a.t.c.hed up the stiletto, and flew at the bridegroom with gleaming eyes, uplifted weapon, the yell of a furious wild beast, and hair flying out behind her head like a lion's mane.
CHAPTER XL.
Dr. Amboyne and Raby cried out, and tried to interfere; but Grace's movement was too swift, furious, and sudden; she was upon the man, with her stiletto high in the air, before they could get to her, and indeed the blow descended, and, inspired as it was by love, and hate, and fury, would doubtless have buried the weapon in a rascal's body; but Jael Dence caught Grace's arm: that weakened, and also diverted the blow; yet the slight, keen weapon pierced Coventry's cheek, and even inflicted a slight wound upon the tongue. That very moment Jael Dence dragged her away, and held her round the waist, writhing and striking the air; her white hand and bridal sleeve sprinkled with her bridegroom's blood.
As for him, his love, criminal as it was, supplied the place of heroism: he never put up a finger in defense. ”No,” said he, despairingly, ”let me die by her hand; it is all I hope for now.” He even drew near her to enable her to carry out her wish: but, on that, Jael Dence wrenched her round directly, and Dr. Amboyne disarmed her, and Raby marched between the bride and the bridegroom, and kept them apart: then they all drew their breath, for the first time, and looked aghast at each other.
Not a face in that room had an atom of color left in it; yet it was not until the worst was over that they realized the savage scene.
The bridegroom leaned against the wardrobe, a picture of despair, with blood trickling from his cheek, and channeling his white waist-coat and linen; the bride, her white and bridal sleeve spotted with blood, writhed feebly in Jael Dence's arms, and her teeth clicked together, and her eyes shone wildly. At that moment she was on the brink of frenzy.
Raby, a man by nature, and equal to great situations, was the first to recover self-possession and see his way. ”Silence!” said he, sternly.