Part 63 (2/2)

Captain Black, the owner of the hotel, had herself shown the strangers to their rooms, and as the young lady seemed to be tired and suffering, she had asked her very kindly if she could do anything for madame? The young man (the young lady did not open her lips) had asked her to send up some tea, but declined all other a.s.sistance. Soon afterwards the young man had left the house.

He had not been gone five minutes when a cab, which had been waiting at a little distance up the street ever since the strangers had arrived, drove up to the house. A young man stepped out and asked the porter if a gentleman and a lady who had arrived from Paris perhaps a quarter of an hour ago were at home? When the porter replied that the gentleman had just left, remarking he would be back in an hour, but that madame was, as far as he knew, in her rooms. The young man asked him to show him up at once. The porter--a man of great experience--saw that the young man, who evidently belonged to the higher cla.s.ses of society, was in a state of great excitement; and as nine o'clock at night did not seem to him the most suitable hour for visiting a lady who, besides, was alone in her room, he replied that he did not think the lady could be seen now. Would not the gentleman be pleased to call again to-morrow morning?

”I am in a great hurry,” said the young man; ”I--I must see the young lady--on family business. Will you be good enough to inquire if she receives company, and carry this--this card?” he added, after some reflection.

With these words he took a small card-case from his pocket and gave the porter a card. It had on it the name of Adolphus Baron Breesen.

The young man's hand trembled so violently as he gave him the card, and his face looked so pale and disturbed, that the porter was more convinced than ever that all was not right, and that the interview of the newcomer with the French lady was probably possible only at the expense of the gentleman who had gone out.

”Why, I forgot,” he said; ”there is the key! They are both out.”

The young man still held the case in his hand.

”I am sure,” he said, drawing a gold-piece from a side pocket and slipping it into the porter's hand, ”that the lady is at home, and that she will receive me when she sees the card.”

The porter was an honest man, but he had a large family, and to-morrow the school-money for his two eldest children was due.

”Third story, second door in the pa.s.sage, on the left,” he said, grumbling.

The young man did not wait for more. He ran up, taking three steps at once, and knocked at the door.

”_Entrez!_” answered a low voice.

When her companion had left her, to take a stroll through the streets, the young lady had remained seated where she was, immoveable, her head supported in one of her hands, and the other hanging listlessly by her side. The light of the two wax candles on the table fell bright upon her face. The face was evidently a lovely one when it beamed with joy and exuberant spirits, as it was wont to do; but now it was pale, and disfigured by much weeping. The large gray eyes stared fixedly at the ground, the beautifully arched brows were painfully contracted, and the lips closed firmly. Mechanically she said ”_Entrez!_” when the waiter knocked to bring tea; she did not even look up while he set the things upon the table; and he had to ask twice if she had any more orders before she answered a short ”No!” She had totally forgotten that he had been there as soon as the door closed behind him, and when another knock came she said, quite as mechanically as before, ”_Entrez!_”

”Emily!”

The young lady started up with a cry, and stared with wide-open eyes at the young man who stood before her, as if she had been suddenly roused from a deep sleep and did not know whether she were still in a dream or saw what was real before her.

”Emily!” the young man said once more, and opened his arms.

”Adolphus!” she cried, and threw herself on his breast.

The two held each other embraced as they had done in the days of their childhood when the brother came home during vacations, and the sister had gone to meet him at the park gate.

But the days of childhood's innocence were long past. Emily tore herself from her brother's arms, and cried, stretching out her hands as if to keep him away from her,

”Where do you come from? What do you want here?”

”Can you ask that, Emily?” he replied, sadly; ”What I want here? You!

Where I come from? From Paris; where I have searched for you months and months; where I found a trace of you at last, just as you were leaving town, and from whence I have followed you from town to town, from hotel to hotel, without ever succeeding in finding you alone. Not that I am afraid of him!” said the young man, unconsciously drawing himself up proudly to his full height, ”but I wanted to speak to you kindly and gently, and I knew I should not be able to do that in his presence.”

Adolphus approached his sister to seize her hand. She stepped back.

”What do you want of me?” she murmured.

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