Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter. Lynch Lawrence L.

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СКАЧАТЬ I'll just smoke here, and wait for my pretty bird; this is the place and almost the time."

      He smoked and he waited; the time came, and passed; his cigar expired; the shadows deepened – but still he waited.

      And he waited in vain. No light form advanced through, the gathering night; no sweet voice greeted him.

      The time was far past now, and, muttering an oath, the disappointed lover strode away, and was lost in the night.

      Madeline was standing in her own room, the threshold of which John Arthur had never crossed since the day when a silent form was borne from it, and laid in that peaceful home, the churchyard. She had just received the summons, for which, only, she lingered – the command of Mr. Arthur to attend at the altar of hospitality, and pour, for Mr. Amos Adams, the tea.

      She was attired in a neat dark garment which was vastly becoming. She had made her toilet with more than usual care, as if, perhaps, to do honor to her ancient suitor – at least so thought Mr. Arthur, when she presented herself before him.

      She had put her chiefest treasures in a little, a very little, travelling bag. And now she threw across her arm a large cloak, took her hat, veil, and bag, and descended softly to the hall below. It was faintly lighted from the lower end, and Madeline deposited her belongings in a darkened niche near a door, peeped put into the night that had come on cloudy and starless, and entered the room where waited the two conspirators, and supper.

      John Arthur was more bland and smiling than Madeline had ever before known him, while as for old Amos, he nearly lost himself in a maze of grins and chuckles, but displayed a very unloverlike appetite, nevertheless, and divided his attention pretty evenly between the beautiful face of Madeline, and the viands on the table.

      Madeline betrayed no sign of surprise at her step-papa's unwonted cordiality, and no annoyance at the ogling and chuckling of her antiquated suitor. In truth, she favored him with more than one expressive smile, the meaning of which he little guessed, as she contrasted him once more with handsome Lucian Davlin, and smiled again at the picture of his coming defeat.

      The meal was partaken of in comparative silence, all apparently quite satisfied with their own thoughts – ah, how different! It was not until old Jane, the servant, had been dismissed that Mr. Arthur drew his chair a trifle nearer that of his friend, and leaning his arms upon the table, looked across at Madeline, and said:

      "My dear, I believe you are aware of the honor this gentleman desires to confer upon you? I think I have hinted at the truth upon one or two occasions?"

      Madeline veiled her too expressive eyes behind their long lashes, but made no reply.

      "It is my desire," he continued, surveying with satisfaction the appearance of humility with which his words were received, "and the desire of Mr. Adams as well, that we should come to a satisfactory understanding to-night. We will, therefore, settle the preliminaries at once: – this is your desire, I think, Mr. Adams?"

      "Oh, certainly! Oh, yes, yes," ejaculated old Amos, in a transport of grins.

      "And this will, I trust," – he was growing more stately and polite every moment – "this, of course, is satisfactory to you, Miss Madeline?"

      "Perfectly." She looked him full in the face now, and somehow her glance slightly impaired his feeling of dignity and security.

      "Very good; and now having formally accepted the proffered hand of Mr. Adams – "

      "Pardon me, sir, you are too fast. Mr. Adams has not offered himself."

      "Nonsense," – Mr. Arthur suddenly forgot his politeness – "haven't I just stated his offer?"

      Madeline leaned back in her chair, and looked from one to the other with a tranquil smile.

      "Perhaps; but unfortunately there is a law in existence which prohibits a man from marrying his grandmother, and likewise objects, I believe, to a young woman's espousing her step-papa, however much adored. And as you can't marry me, my dear parent and guardian, why I object to listening to a proposal from your lips."

      John Arthur gazed in angry consternation upon the girl's still smiling face, but before the impatient words that he would have uttered could find voice, old Amos, who had interpreted her smiles as being favorable to himself, came gallantly to the rescue.

      "Right! quite right," he chuckled. "Of course, you know, Arthur – Miss Madeline, ahem – that's what I meant, you know. It's the proper way," he gasped; and the general expression of his countenance did not tend to make his observations the more lucid – "I meant, you know – ah, well – will you honor me Miss Madeline – by – by your hand, you know?"

      This effort of oratory was received with smiling attention by the girl, who now addressed herself entirely to him, without heeding the effect of her words upon her step-father, or his interpolations, as she proceeded.

      "Mr. Adams;" – she spoke in a low, even tone, and gradually permitted the real feelings that were seeking for expression to show themselves in her every feature – "Mr. Adams, I think I appreciate as it deserves the honor you desire to bestow upon me; believe me, too, when I say that I am as grateful as it is proper I should be. But, Mr. Adams, I am only a mere girl, and you might pay too dearly for me."

      "What the deuce does the fool mean?" growled Mr. Arthur.

      "I don't dispute the fact that I am a perfectly marketable commodity, and it is very right and proper that my dear step-papa – who dotes on me, whose idol I have been for long years – should set a high valuation upon my unworthy head. Yet this little Arcadian transaction is really not just the thing for the present century and country. And so, Mr. Adams, I must beg leave to thank you for the honor you proffer, and, thanking you, to decline it!"

      For a moment no one spoke; there was neither sound nor movement in the room. John Arthur was literally speechless with rage, and old Amos was just as speechless from astonishment; while Madeline gazed from one to the other unmoved. As soon as he could articulate, John Arthur confronted her, and taking her roughly by the shoulder, demanded:

      "What do you mean, you ungrateful jade? What are you talking about?"

      "About your contract in flesh and blood, Mr. Arthur. About your very worthy scheme for putting money in your pockets by making me this man's wife. If I am to be sold, sir, I will make my own bargain; be very sure of that; and this is not my bargain!"

      "Don't talk to me of bargains, you little idiot! Do you think to defy me? Do you dare to defy me?"

      His rage passed all bounds. She put the width of the table between them and surveyed him across it, mockingly.

      "Listen, girl, I am your lawful guardian; you shall obey me!"

      "Really, now, don't, step-papa; you are actually purple in the face! You might die, you know; think of your heart, do, and take a glass of water."

      Old Adams collapsed in the remote corner whither he had fled. The miser was not at home in a tempest, and this was already beyond his depth. He gasped in speechless amaze and affright. Was this the girl he had thought to mold as his wife, this fearless, defiant creature? Already he began to congratulate himself upon his lucky escape. "She would murder me some day," he thought, shuddering.

      For the time being, John Arthur was a madman. Defied, mocked, by this girl who had been a burden to his very life! He raged, he raved, he cursed; and so raging and raving, he cursed her, and then in vile, bitter words hurled his anathema at her dead mother's memory.

      Then СКАЧАТЬ