Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter
MADELINE PAYNE,
THE DETECTIVE'S DAUGHTER.
CHAPTER I.
MAN PROPOSES.
"H'm! And you scarcely remember your mother, I suppose?"
"No, Lucian; I was such a mere babe when she died, I have oftenwondered what it would be like to have a mother. Auntie Hagar wasalways very kind to me, however; so kind, in fact, that mystep-father, fearing, he said, that I would grow up self-willed anddisobedient, sent her away, and procured the services of the ugly oldwoman you saw in the garden. Poor Auntie Hagar," sighed the girl, "shewas sorely grieved at our parting and, that she might be near me,bought the little cottage in the field yonder."
"Oh!" ejaculated the man, more as if he felt that he was expected tosay something, than as if really interested in the subject underdiscussion. "Ah--er--was--a--was the old lady a property holder, then?Most discharged servants go up and down on the earth, seeking whatthey may devour--in another situation."
"That is the strangest part of the affair, Lucian; she had money.Where it came from, I never could guess, nor would she ever give meany information on the subject. It was a legacy--that was all I was toknow, it seemed.
"I remember," she continued, musingly, "how very much astonished I wasto receive, from my step-father, a lecture on this head. He took theground that my childish curiosity was unpardonably rude, and angrilyforbade me to ask further questions. And I am sure that since that oneinstance of wonderful regard for the feelings of Aunt Hagar, he hasnot deigned to consider the comfort and happiness of any, save andalways himself."
As the girl's voice took on a tone of scornful sarcasm; as her cheeksflushed and her eyes flashed while memory recalled the many instancesof unfeeling cruelty and neglect, that had brought tears to herchildish eyes and pain to her lonely heart--the eyes of Lucian Davlinbecame bright with admiration, and something more; something thatmight have caused her honest eyes to wonder and question, if she hadbut intercepted the glance. But her thoughts had taken a backwardturn. Without looking up, perceiving by his silence that he had nodesire to interrupt her, she proceeded, half addressing herself:
"I used to ask him about my mother, and was always informed that he'didn't care to converse of dead folks.' Finally, he assured me thathe was 'tired of seeing my sickly, ugly face,' and that, as I wouldhave to look after myself when he was dead and gone, I must beeducated. Therefore, I was sent to the dreary Convent school at M----.And there I studied hard, looking forward to the time when, havinglearned all they could teach me, I might breathe again outside thefour stone walls; for, by my step-papa's commands, I was not permittedto roam outside the sisters' domains until my studies should reach anend. Then they brought me back, and my polite step-papa called me an'educated idiot;' and my good old Hagar cried over me; and I madefriends with the birds, and the trees. Ever since, always avoiding myworthy ancestor-in-law, I have been wondering what it would be like tobe happy among true friends, in a bright spot somewhere, far away fromthis place, where I never have been happy for a day at a time, even asa child."
"Never, little girl?" The eyes were very reproachful, and the man'shand was held out entreatingly. "Never, darling?"
She looked up in his face shyly, yet trustfully, and then putting herhand in his, said: "Never, until I knew you, Lucian; and always since,I think, except--"
She hesitated, and the color fled out of her face.
"Except when I think that the day draws near when you will leave me.And when the great world has swallowed you up, you will forget the'little girl' you found in the woods, perhaps."
A smile flitted across the face of the listener, and he turned awayfor a moment to conceal the lurking devil gleaming out of his eyes.Then, flinging away his half finished cigar, he took both her hands inhis, and looking down into her clear eyes, said:
"Then don't let me go away from you, beauty. Don't stay here to makedismal meditations among the gloomy trees. Don't pass all the wearyWinter with Curmudgeon, who will marry you to an old bag of gold. Comewith me; come to the city and be happy. You shall see all the gloriesand beauties of the gay, bright world. You shall put dull care farbehind you. You shall be my little Queen of Hearts, to love and carefor always. Sweetheart, will you come?"
He was folding her close now, and she nestled in his arms with perfecttrustfulness, with untold happiness shining in her bright eyes. Shewas in no haste to answer his eager question, and he smiled again; andonce more the lurking devil laughed out of his eyes. But he held hertenderly to him, in silence for a time, and then lifted the blushingface to meet his own.
"Look up, Aileen, my own! Is it to be as I wish? Will you leave thisplace with me to-morrow night?"
The girl drew back with a start of surprise. "You--you surely are notgoing to-morrow, Lucian," and the gentle voice trembled.
"I must, little one--have just received a letter calling me back tothe city. Your sweet face has already kept me here too long. But Ishall take it back with me, shall I not, love; and never lose itmore?"
The girl was silent. She loved him only too well, and yet thisperemptory wooing and sudden departure struck upon her naturallysensitive nerves as something harsh and unpleasant. She would notleave behind much love, would be missed by few friends, and yet--toleave her home once was to leave it forever, and it was home, afterall. She looked at the man before her, and a something, her good angelperhaps, seemed, almost against herself, to move her to rebel.
"Why must I go like a runaway, Lucian? I can't bear to bid you go, andyet, if you must, why not leave me for a little time? My father willnever consent, I well know, but let me tell him, and then go openly,after he has had time to become familiar with the idea."
"After he has had time to lock you up! Recollect, you are not of age,Aileen. After he has had time to force you into a marriage with yourbroken-backed old lover. After he has had time to poison your mindagainst me----"
"Lucian! as if he could do _that_; _he_, indeed!" The girl laughedscornfully.
"She nestled in his arms with perfecttrustfulness."--page 11.]
It is not difficult to guess how this affair would have terminated.The man was handsome and persuasive; the girl trustful, loving, and,save for him, so she thought, almost friendless.
But an unexpected event interrupted the eloquence flowing from thelips of Lucian Davlin, and set the mind of the girl free to think onemoment, unbiased by the mesmeric power of his mind, eye, and touch.
They were standing in a little grove, near which ran the footpathleading into the village of Bellair. Suddenly, as if he had droppedfrom one of the wide spreading trees, a very fat boy, with a shiningface and a general air of "knowingness," appeared before them.
"I beg pardin, sir," proclaimed he, "but as you told me if atellergram come for you, to fetch it here, so I did."
And staring at Madeline the while, he produced a yellow envelope fromsome interior region, and presented it to Lucian Davlin, who tore openthe cover, and took in the purport of the message at one glance. Hisface wore a variety of expressions: Annoyance, satisfaction, surprise,all found place as he read. He stood in a thoughtful attitude for abrief time, and then, as if he had settled the matter in his own mind,said:
"All right, Mike. Go back now, and tell Bowers to prepare to leaveto-night. I'll come down and send the required answer immediately.Here, take this."
Tossing him a piece of money, Lucian turned to Madeline, over whoseface a look of sorrowful wonder was creeping.
"'Man proposes,' my dear! Well, I am 'disposed of' for a time. It isonly one night sooner, and, after all, what matter? Will you decidefor me at once, Maidie? Nay, I see you hesitate still, and time justnow is precious. Think till to-night, then; think of the lonely dayshere without me; think of me, alone in the big world, wishing andlonging for _you_. I could not even write you in safety. Think fast,little woman; and when evening comes, meet me here with your answer.If it must be separation for a time, dear, tell me when I shall comeback for you."
The girl drew a breath of relief. He w
ould come back--that would bebetter. But seeing his anxiety to be gone, she only said: "Very well,Lucian, I will be here."
"Then, good-by till evening."
A swift kiss, and a strong hand clasp, and he strode away.
Trampling down the wayside daisies and tender Spring grasses;insensible to the beauties of earth and sky; smiling still that samequeer, meaning smile, he took the path leading back to the village.Reaching the site, where the woody path terminated in the highway, heturned. Yes, she was looking after him; she would be, he knew. Hekissed his hand, lifted his hat with a courtly gesture, and passed outof her sight.
"Gad!" he ejaculated, half aloud, "she is a little beauty; and halfinclined to rebel, too. She won't go with me to-night, I think; but afew weeks of this solitude without me, and my Lady Bird willcapitulate. The old Turk, her step-father, won't raise much of a hueand cry at her flight, I fancy. Wonder what is the secret of hisantipathy to Miss Payne."
He paced on, wrinkling his brow in thought a moment, and thenwhistling softly as his fancies shaped themselves to his liking.Suddenly he stopped, turned, and looked sharply about him.
"I'll do it!" he exclaimed. "Strange if I can't extract from a brokendown old woman any items of family history that might serve mypurpose. I'll call on the nurse--what's her name--to-night."
He glanced across the meadow to where stood the cottage of NurseHagar, and, as if satisfied with himself and his brilliant last idea,resumed his walk. Presently his pace slackened again, and he looked atthe crumpled paper which he still retained in his hand, saying:
"It's queer what sent Cora to the city for this flying visit. I mustkeep my Madeline out of her way. If they should meet--whew!"
Evidently, direful things might ensue from a meeting between MadelinePayne and this unknown Cora, for after a prolonged whistle, a briefmoment of silence, and then a short laugh, Davlin said:
"I should wear a wig, at least," and he laughed again. "I wonder, byJove! I wonder if old Arthur's money bags are heavy enough to make acard for Cora. Well, I'll find that out, too."