A. D. 2000. Fuller Alvarado Mortimer

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СКАЧАТЬ recipient of a small pension from the members of his family who had not joined in the conspiracy, and upon this small pension Jean Colchis lived in the humble and rickety house in Duke’s Lane.

      The pension was sufficient for all the needs of the old man and his only daughter, a lovely girl of seventeen years; it gave them their daily sustenance and life, and a slight margin from which to purchase the few things he needed to continue the one hobby of his life, chemical analysis.

      When Cobb had taken the old man to the druggist’s, an examination had shown that nothing but a slight contusion of the side of the head had resulted from the unexpected knock-down he had received. He soon regained his senses, but was in a weak and helpless condition.

      Learning from him the place of his abode, Cobb at once took him there in a hack, and carefully attended him during the remainder of that evening.

      Such was the introduction of Junius Cobb to Jean Colchis.

      Cobb’s kindness to the old Frenchman was rewarded by an invitation to call again, and as he descended the stairs of the old, rain-beaten house, he resolved to come the next evening.

      He did come, and many evenings after, and it was from this old man that Cobb first learned the art of making ozone in quantities. It was not a difficult matter for them to ascertain the various hobbies each possessed. Their conversation soon gave each an insight into the desires of the other for a knowledge of the many things yet unknown, but yet imagined. Their desires being so assimilated, their tendencies so coincident, it was only natural that each should take more than a common liking to the other.

      But, though he had worked with Colchis in the manufacture and uses of ozone, the latter never had any idea of the grand scheme his friend had in view, for Cobb would not communicate the secret to him for fear that he might divulge it to others.

      The door of the old house had opened to admit Cobb, and had closed again, leaving him in the hall. There was no light to guide him, but his knowledge of the place and surroundings was such that he found no difficulty in ascending to the little back parlor where Colchis usually sat when not at work.

      Opening the door, he entered, and was quickly clasped about the neck by a pair of plump white arms, while a face, radiantly beautiful, looked into his, and a red pouting mouth invited the kiss which he quickly bestowed upon it.

      “Oh, Mr. Cobb, I am so glad you have come! I heard you at the door, and have surprised you! Now, have I not? Say yes; for you know I have!” and the sweet little maiden released him, and shook her delicate finger in a menacing gesture, as if her command could not be disobeyed.

      Marie Colchis was the only child of Jean Colchis – a beautiful, fair-skinned girl of seventeen, with long, heavy blonde hair; plump in form, with small, fine hands; loving in disposition, with most winsome ways; innocent as a new-born babe.

      Jean Colchis had kept this sweet girl close to him with a jealous care. She knew no one, scarcely, save her father and Junius Cobb. Witty and bright beyond her years, yet gentle and innocent as a lamb, she had from the very first conceived a girlish love for her father’s visitor. And Junius Cobb loved the girl dearly; loved to hear her girlish talk and watch her innocent ways; loved to stroke her hair, and loved to kiss her lips and feel her arms about him. Was there any harm? He was thirty-three, and she was but seventeen.

      Jean Colchis noted their peculiar love, and smiled. No man was closer to the heart of Jean Colchis than Junius Cobb. Nothing could the latter ask that the old man in Duke’s Lane would not have given him – even his daughter, should he seek her. But this, of course, the old man knew was beyond expectation. It would have pleased his old heart, but the disparity of years caused him to believe it to be impossible.

      And Marie – what were her thoughts and feelings?

      She loved Junius Cobb – loved him, young as she was, as a mature woman loves the man she would call husband. She loved him with her whole heart, with her very soul.

      Cobb knew this, and reproached himself many times for causing her affectionate heart to entertain the hope that she would sometime be his wife.

      It had come by degrees, unseen by either, until each had felt that the brightness of the world was centered in the other. He could not marry her; this he knew, for she was too young. He could not wait until she had bloomed into the magnificent woman that he knew nature had destined her to become, for he would then be dead to the world. He could not tell her the truth! He did what thousands of others have done – he temporized.

      “Marie,” and he took both of her hands in his, and looked long and lovingly into her eyes; “Marie, you are not a child, you are a woman. You are far beyond your years. What I tell you to-night will cause you pain, but it must be said.”

      “O, Mr. Cobb!” she cried, and the tears flooded her eyes; “are you going to tell me that I am no longer your little Marie! that an – an – another is going to take you away from your little girl?” and she buried her head in his hands and cried piteously.

      “No, Marie, not that!” he quickly returned. “But I am going to leave you; am going far away; I may never return!”

      “And you will meet other and beautiful women, and will forget your Marie!” she said, still sobbing.

      “No! darling little Marie! Will it give you pleasure if I tell you that I swear to be true to you – to wait until you have grown to womanhood? that I will marry no other woman living but you?” and he stroked her beautiful hair and raised her face to his.

      “If you swear this, you do love me!” she cried through her tears; then, brightening up, she threw her arms about him, and murmured: “Though it will grieve me to the heart to see you leave me, yet your promise will ever tend to dull the sorrow of your absence, and will be a beacon light for me to look forward to. A few years, and you will come and claim me, will you not, Junius?” and as the words left her lips, she blushed and dropped her eyes from before his gaze.

      Somehow, she had never before used his first name. It seemed to her that he was too far above her, too much older, for such a liberty on her part.

      And how had their love ripened, these two of years so wide apart? Simply and easily enough. In one of his loving moods, Junius Cobb, in kissing her good-night, had said:

      “Marie, I will wait until you grow up, and marry you!”

      “Will you?” she had replied, laughing, yet earnestly. “Then, I accept you, Mr. Cobb, and will grow just as fast as I can.”

      Very simple, and very easy.

      “Marie, little darling,” and Cobb’s voice was sad and low, “to-night I go far away. To-night we must part; but my sacred promise I give you, my girl darling, that when I return, you shall be my wife, if living.”

      He knew his deception, but it was better, he thought, to let her live without the knowledge of the utter impossibility of the fulfillment of her hopes, than to tell her the truth, and break her heart. She would outgrow her girlish love, he argued, and time would soften, if not deaden, the sorrow of his continued absence.

      For a half-hour they talked, they loved, this man of thirty-three and the girl of seventeen.

      Who can fathom the mysteries of love!

      Leaving her in sorrow at his coming departure, but hopeful for the future, he moved toward the workshop of Colchis, while a choking sensation surrounded his heart, and tears filled his eyes.

      Turning the knob of the last door at the end of the СКАЧАТЬ