CHAPTER XXXIX.
MYSTIFIED PEOPLE.
John Arthur sat before a smoldering fire, gazing moodily down at thecharred embers that had lost their glow and only showed a dark redlight here and there, as if to assure one that there was fire in thegrate.
He was thinner than of old. His face wore a sickly pallor. His handsthat clutched the arms of his invalid's chair worked incessantly,indicating surely that his nerves were in anything but a state ofcalm. He was feeble, too, in body; but his mind, spite of the verdictof the Bellair physician and the drugs of the Professor, was stillunimpaired.
In the solitude of the two rooms, out of which he had not oncestepped since first he was removed to the west wing, he had had ampletime for reflection; but he had by no means arrived at a state ofmental beatitude.
He had found it useless to struggle, useless to bluster, to argue orto plead. Henry was a merciless jailer, and Dr. Le Guise a sarcasticone.
His breakfast had been served, and stood upon the table beside him;but he scarcely glanced at it. When Henry came in from the ante-roomto remove the things, he said, without looking up: "Go ask Le Guise tocome to me."
Henry carried away the tray, deposited it in the ante-room, locked thedoor of the chamber carefully, and made his way to the breakfast-room.
At that moment, the incongruous mixture called the family, were thereassembled, including the Professor. The latter was just thendiscussing the condition of his patient with Miss Payne, in blissfulignorance of the fact that the young lady was fully conversant withhis mode of treatment, and the true condition of her step-father'shealth.
"You see, my dear young lady," the Professor said, pompously, "his isthe worst form of insanity; the very worst. When a patient ravesconstantly we know precisely what to do with him. But when he is, attimes, to all appearance, as sane as yourself, and yet liable at anymoment to blaze out a perfect madman, one dislikes to treat him as amadman, and yet it is not safe to consider him a sane being."
Madeline nodded, with a splendid assumption of profound interest.
"It's a sad case," she said, pensively. "I almost dread theinterview."
"I think he is quite collected this morning, and he may be calmthroughout. I hope so, for I should not like to have you witness oneof his tantrums."
"I have seen him in tantrums when he was considered sane," said thegirl, with an odd intonation.
Then looking up, she saw Henry, who had entered the room and stoodstaring at her in speechless amazement. Hagar had informed him thathis young mistress was in the house. But he was not prepared for thevision of loveliness that the girl presented, as she turned toward himclad in her morning robe of snowy cashmere bordered with swansdown,and trailing after her like a train of snow. Luckily no one noted hisstart of surprise and quick glance of recognition, and Madeline said:
"Is not that my step-father's attendant, doctor? I think he wantsyou."
The "doctor" beckoned Henry to approach, and said, affably: "Well, andhow is our patient, Henry?"
"About as usual, sir. But he wants to see you."
"Oh, he does? Poor soul, I'll come directly, Henry." Then, turning toMadeline: "Shall I break to him the news of your arrival?"
"No; not unless you think it unsafe to surprise him."
"On the contrary, an agreeable surprise might prove beneficial."
The Professor, who had received sundry instructions from Davlin,assumed to be ignorant of the fact that the patient supposed hisstep-daughter dead.
Smiling a little at the hypocrisy of the man, who pretended to have atheart the interest of a patient supposed to be in an excessivelynervous state, yet was quite ready to expose that patient to the shockof meeting, without previous preparation, one supposed to be dead andin her grave, Madeline turned, and with a gesture brought Cora to herside.
"Is Dr. Le Guise aware that my step-papa believes me to be dead?" sheasked.
Cora and the Professor looked dubiously at one another for an instant.Then the former, seeing her cue in the face of the latter, said: "Heis not."
"Well, step-mamma, I am going up to see him soon, and, on secondthought, it will be best to have the doctor inform him of myresurrection."
Cora nodded.
"And," pursued the girl, "I will only say that I desire you, doctor,to inform him that I feigned death for reasons of my own. That I amhere in the flesh, and will appear in his presence soon. When you haveprepared him for my coming, have the goodness to come down and tellme."
Saying this she turned away, after which the Professor quitted theroom to obey the summons of his patient.
Lucian Davlin had witnessed the interview, the summons and thedeparture, from a distance. He had found no opportunity for conversingwith Cora, as yet, and was sorely puzzled by the present aspect ofaffairs.
He had watched the two narrowly, but he found himself unable to readthe true meaning lurking beneath the soft words that fell from thelips of Madeline. He could hear no jar in the music of her voice,could catch no glance that would give the lie to her honeyed words.She was playing her part like a born actress.
He had not expected to see Cora accept the situation without astruggle. He was glad to find that there was to be no scene, andyet--somehow he felt himself at a disadvantage.
He had viewed the situation from his stand-point, however, and haddecided upon his course of action.
First, he was resolved not to quit the field until he had made adesperate attempt to regain his power over the heiress of Oakley.Second, he would use stratagem in order to obtain an interview withher.
In due time, Dr. Le Guise came among them once more, and announced toMadeline his readiness to conduct her into the presence of hispatient.
"He is quite prepared to see me, then?" questioned Madeline.
"Quite, although I left him a trifle agitated and upset."
As they paused at the door leading from the hall of the west wing, shesaid:
"I will go in alone, Dr. Le Guise."
"As you please." Then, as it were an afterthought. "I really believe,for your own safety, you had better keep Henry near you."
"I shall be in no danger," she replied, and entered the outer chamber,closing and locking the door after herself.
In answer to her knock, the door of the ante-chamber was unlocked andopened by Henry. Madeline swept across the threshold and extended herhand to the faithful fellow, saying:
"Henry, I am glad to see you. I hope you do not find your presentduties too heavy?"
"Not since I knew I was serving you, miss," said the man,respectfully.
"You are serving me, Henry. I need you here very much; and restassured you shall have your reward for all you have done or may do forme."
Evidently the prospect of reward was not unpleasing to him. Hiscountenance beamed satisfaction.
"And, Henry," continued his mistress, "attend to this. You are not, onany account, to give your charge any more of the medicine prepared forhim by the doctor."
A look of surprise shone from the eyes of the negro, but he answeredsimply, like the well-trained servant he was: "Yes, miss."
"Above all, Henry, you are to let the doctor think that you administerall that he gives you."
Henry signified that he fully understood and would obey hisinstructions. Then he opened the inner door, and John Arthur andMadeline Payne stood once more face to face!
For a moment, the two eyed each other in silence. Then John Arthursaid, with a sneer on his lip, and in a tone which proved clearly thattime and imprisonment had not taught him meekness:
"So, you young jade, what escapade have you been up to now? And howdare you come back here like a young princess? Why don't you keep outof my house?"
Madeline laughed scornfully. "_Your_ house!--But I forgive you,step-papa; of course you are not accountable for your words."
Her tone was mockery itself. The man found it difficult to restrainhis wrath as he looked in her scornful face and said: "Don't dare topretend to believe that I am crazy! Are
you in league against me,too?"
Wishing to draw from him just how much of the baseness of Cora hebelieved in, or suspected, she dropped her voice and asked, in assumedsurprise: "Is it possible that you believe some one to be plottingagainst you?"
"Is it _possible_! How else could I be kept shut up a prisoner in myown house?"
The girl seemed to ponder. "Who is your enemy?" she asked.
"Every one in this house."
"What! Surely not your wife?"
"I'm not so certain of that."
"But she, too, has been sick."
"Have they locked _her_ up?" snapped he.
Madeline smiled. "Well, not exactly; she is not allowed much liberty,though."
"Why won't she come and see me?"
"Mercy! She is too delicate."
"Seems to me you are well informed for one so lately arrived."
"I _am_ well informed, Mr. Arthur. But I am not a late arrival."
"What do you mean?" sullenly.
"Just what I say," with an odd laugh. "I have been in this house sinceyou were first put in these rooms."
He sat like one stupefied. At last he sprang up and fairly yelled, "Inthe fiend's name, explain this chicanery. Why are you here? Who iskeeping me a prisoner, and wherefore? Is it _you_, you little virago?"
"Softly, step-papa; one thing at a time. I am here because _you_ arehere," she said in a voice of unruffled calm. "Who is keeping you aprisoner, you ask? I am."
Once more he seemed on the point of giving way to a paroxysm of rage,but controlled himself and said, sullenly:
"I suppose I may thank you for my imprisonment from first to last."
"You may thank me if you choose, but it will be bestowing yourgratitude upon the wrong party. I did not lock you up. I simplypermitted it."
"And why have you leagued with my wife--curse her--to shut me up likea thief?"
"Why?" her voice rising in angry scorn, "Do you ask me _why_? Why didyou make my mother almost a prisoner in her own home? Why did youcrush her in life, and blaspheme her in death? Why did you drive herdaughter from the home that was hers, to escape from your cruelty,your insults, your avarice? John Arthur, how dare you ask me _why_ youare here!"
Again the flashing eye, the ringing, wrathful voice, the white,uplifted hand. They menaced him again, as on that June evening whenshe had defied him and then fled out into the darkness, not to return,save in dreams, until now.
Again he felt a thrill of terror, and he sat before her mute andcowering. At last he found voice to say: "Do you mean that you intendto keep me a prisoner?"
Her eyes met his full. They were cold as snow and resolute as fate."You will never leave these rooms until you accede to the terms I haveto propose."
Her audacity fairly stunned him. He fell back a pace as he said:"What--terms?"
"First, you are to agree to resign the guardianship of my property.Second, you are to leave Oakley forthwith and forever, and to keepever and always away from me and all that is mine."
"Bah!" he cried, angrily, "do you think I am a fool? I won't resign myguardianship; the property is _mine_, not yours!"
"Then I will choose a new guardian immediately. How ignorant of lawyou are, step-papa! Don't you know that you are legally _dead_? Don'tyou know that a lunatic can't hold property? Legally, I can choose aguardian to-morrow."
"You she-devil! But I am not a lunatic!" sneered he.
"How obtuse you are, step-papa! You _are_ a lunatic; we have thecertificates of two physicians to that effect; and that is all the lawrequires. Now, be reasonable; what can you do?"
"I'll get out, by heavens," he yelled; "and I'll put you in State'sprison for false imprisonment!"
She turned upon him with the utmost composure. "My dear sir, you havenot one witness to prove that you are a sane man. There are many toprove that you have been subject to violent fits of madness."
She turned again, and he, no longer seeking to control his rage,sprang toward her, uttering a volley of curses.
During their entire interview, Henry had stood like a sentinel at theouter door of the ante-room, while that leading into the chamber ofthe prisoner stood wide open. At the first accent of rage, he dartedforward; and as the girl sprang away from her step-father, thatgentleman felt himself seized and hurled with scant ceremony to themiddle of the room.
"Don't you try that, sir!" cried Henry, in high wrath. "You won't findme a friend, if you do."
"So," panted the old man, "this is one of your hirelings, is it? Andpray, sir, what is this young fiend to pay you for your services?"
"That's my affair," responded the man, coolly. "You can't buy me off;and if you try that game again, you will get yourself into a straightjacket."
Madeline laughed, and said: "There, Henry, you need not be alarmed forme. But when you report this attack to the doctor, tell him that Ithink he had better take measures to secure his safety and yours, incase your patient should be again seized with a fit of violence."
John Arthur immediately saw that he had damaged his own cause.
"You had better sleep upon my proposition, Mr. Arthur," said Madeline,from the threshold. "If you pine for liberty, send for me. And don'tthink, for a moment, that I shall allow you to go free without takingthe necessary precautions to insure myself against any trouble youmight desire to make me. Adieu, Mr. Arthur." And she swept from theroom.
John Arthur stood for many minutes in the same place and attitude.When his anger would permit him, he began to wonder. She had come andgone, and how much the wiser was he? Where had she been all thesemonths? Why had she allowed them to think her dead? Who were herfriends, for friends she must have found? Why had her presence in thehouse, if she had been here, been kept from him? How had she gainedthe ascendancy over every one in that house? He thought so long andintensely that he started up, at last, almost beginning to fear thathe was becoming mad.
When Dr. Le Guise again came into his presence, he began to questionhim. But it was labor lost. Dr. Le Guise would not admit that he was asane man. Dr. Le Guise knew nothing, absolutely nothing, outside therange of his professional duties. He was sorry for his patient; verysorry. He assumed to take all assertions on the part of Mr. Arthur asso many fresh evidences of insanity.
"Don't try that, sir!" cried Henry, in highwrath.--page 375.]
He was very grave, was Dr. Le Guise, but not to be moved. In fact, theprisoner fancied that he could observe in the doctor's tone, manner,and countenance, an unusual degree of complacency, and relish for hisposition and authority. And the prisoner was right. The reason forthe doctor's placidity of manner was simply this:
Madeline on leaving the rooms of the west wing, had encountered theworthy "doctor" just at the turn of the passage, and she had paused,saying:
"Dr. Le Guise, you were right about my unfortunate step-father. He isquite mad, and really a dangerous charge. An ordinary fee is toolittle to offer you, considering what you have undertaken. I don'tknow what terms my step-mamma has made with you, but I will volunteerto double her price. You will be amply remunerated, and must considerthe house and everything in it at your disposal, so long as you keepyour patient safe, and do not permit him to do any mischief."
The astute Professor had taken in the full meaning of her words, whichserved to quiet the fears that had haunted him since the advent ofMiss Payne; fears that the young lady would prove to be an enemy, andone keen enough to fathom the secret they were keeping hidden in thewest wing.
He had seen that, for some reason, neither Cora nor Davlin dared, ordid, oppose her. Now he fancied he understood the reason; it wasbecause they did not fear her, for her interests were in common withtheirs.
"He is certainly a dangerous man," said the Professor, gravely; "Iwill obey your instructions to the letter."