The Bondwoman. Ryan Marah Ellis

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СКАЧАТЬ her eyes. No veil of indifference was between them now, no coquetry; all pretense was swept aside and the look they exchanged was as a kiss.

      “You love me–now?” he demanded, half fiercely.

      “Now, and always, from the first hour you looked at me!” she said, with her hand on his wrist. His grip tightened on the lines, and the blood leaped into his face.

      “My love, my love!” he whispered; and she slipped on her knees beside him that she might not see the danger to be faced.

      “It is no use, Kenneth, Kenneth! There is the bank ahead–they cannot stop–it will kill us! It is just ahead!”

      She was muttering disjointed sentences, her face averted, her arms clasping him.

      “Kill us? Don’t you believe it!” And he laughed a trifle nervously. “Look up, sweetheart; the danger is over. I knew it when you first spoke. See! They are going steady now.”

      They were. He had gained control of them in time to make the dangerous curve in safety. They were a quarter of the way along the embankment. Workmen there stared at the lady and gentleman on the coachman’s seat, and at the rather rapid gait; but the real danger was over.

      They halted at a little cafe, which was thrown into consternation at sight of a lady insensible in the bottom of the carriage; but a little wine and the administrations of the Marquise aided her recovery, and in a short time enabled her to hear the account of the wild race.

      The driver had a broken arm, and one of the horses was slightly injured. Lieutenant McVeigh had sent back about the man, and secured another team for the drive home. He was now walking up and down the pavement in front of the cafe, in very good spirits, and awaiting the pleasure of the Countess.

      They drove home at once; the Countess voluably grateful to Kenneth, and apparently elated over such a tremendous adventure. The young officer shared her high spirits, and the Marquise was the only silent member of the party. After the danger was passed she scarcely spoke. When he helped her into the carriage the pressure of his hand and one whispered word sent the color sweeping over her face, leaving it paler than before. She scarcely lifted her eyes for the rest of the drive, and after retiring for a few moments’ rest, apparently, broke down entirely; the nervous strain had proven rather trying, and she was utterly unable–to her own regret–to join them at lunch.

      Lieutenant McVeigh begged to withdraw, but the Countess Biron, who declared she had never been the heroine of a thrilling adventure, before, insisted that she at least was quite herself again, and would feel cheated if their heroic deliverer did not remain for a lunch, even though it be a tete-a-tete affair; and she, of course, wanted to hear all the details of the horror; that child, Judithe, had not seemed to remember much; she supposed she must have been terribly frightened. “Yet, one never knew how the Marquise would be effected by any thing! She was always surprising people; usually in delightful ways, of course.”

      “Of course,” assented her guest, with a reminiscent gleam and a wealth of absolute happiness in the blue eyes. “Yes, she is rather surprising at times; she surprised me!”

      “Judithe, my child, it was an ideal adventure,” insisted the Countess, an hour after the Lieutenant had left her, and she had repaired to the room where the Marquise was supposed to be resting. Her nervousness had evidently not yet abated, for she was walking up and down the floor.

      “An absolutely ideal adventure, and a heroic foreigner to the rescue! What a god-send that I invited him! And I really believe he enjoyed it. I never before saw him so gay, so charming! There are men, you know, to whom danger is a tonic, and my friend’s son is like that, surely. Did he not seem at all afraid?”

      “Not that I observed.”

      “Did he not say anything?”

      “Y–yes; he swore at the people who shouted and tried to stop the horses.”

      “You should not have let yourself hear that,” said the Countess, reproachfully. “I thought he was so perfect, and was making my little romance about him–or could, if you would only show a little more interest. Ah! at your age I should have been madly in love with the fine fellow, just for what he did today; but you! Still, it would be no use, I suppose. He is fiancee, you know. Yes; the mother told me; a fine settlement; I saw her picture–very pretty.”

      “American–I suppose?”

      “Oh, yes; their lands join, and she is a great heiress. The name–the name is Loring–Genevieve? No–Gertrude, Mademoiselle Gertrude Loring. Ah! so strong he was, so heroic. If she loves him she should have seen him today.”

      “Yes,” agreed the Marquise, with a curious little smile, “she should.”

      Two hours later she was on her knees beside the dowager’s couch, her face hidden and all her energy given to one plea:

      “Maman–Maman! Do not question me; only give me your trust–let us go away!”

      “But the man–tah! It is only a fancy; why should you leave for that? Whoever it is, the infatuation grew quickly and will die out the same way–so–”

      “No! If I remain I cannot answer for myself. I am ashamed to confess it, but–listen, Maman–but put your arms around me first; he is not worthy, I know it; yet I love him! He vows love to me, yet he is betrothed; I know that, also; but I have no reason left, and my folly will make me go to him if you do not help me. Listen, Maman! I–I will do all you say. I will marry in a year–two years–when this is all over. I will obey you in everything, if you will only take me away. I cannot leave you; yet I am afraid to stay where he is.”

      “Afraid! But, Judithe, my child, no one shall intrude upon you. Your friends will protect you from such a man. You have only to refuse to see him, and in a little while–”

      “Refuse! Maman, what can I say to make you understand that I could never refuse him again? Yet, oh, the humiliation! Maman, he is the man I despised–the man I said was not fit to be spoken to; it was all true, but when I hear his voice it makes me forget his unworthiness. Listen, Maman! I–I confessed to him today that I loved him; yet I know he is the man who by the laws of America is the owner of Rhoda Larue, and he is now the betrothed of her half-sister; I heard the name of his fiancee today, and it told me the whole story. He is the man! Now, will you take me away?”

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