CHAPTER V.
A SHREWD SCHEME.
An elegant apartment, one of a suite in a magnificent block such asare the pride of our great cities.
Softest carpets, of most exquisite pattern; curtains of richest lace;lambrequins of costly texture; richly-embroidered and velvet-coveredsleepy-hollows and lounging chairs; nothing stiff, nothing that didnot betoken abandonment to ease and pleasure; downy cushions; rarestpictures; loveliest statuettes; finest bronzes; delicate vases;magnificent, full length mirrors, a bookcase, itself a rare work ofart, containing the best works of the best authors, all in the richestof bindings--nothing here that the most refined and cultivated tastecould disapprove, and yet everything bespoke the sybarite, thevoluptuary. A place wherein to forget that the world held aught savebeauty; a place for luxurious revelry, and repose filled with lotusdreams.
Such was the bachelor abode of Lucian Davlin, as the glowing gaslights revealed it on the dark night of the arrival of this gentlemanin the city.
Moving restlessly about, as one who was perfectly familiar with allthis glowing richness, only because movement was a necessity to her;trailing her rich dress to and fro in an impatient promenade, andtwisting recklessly meantime a delicate bit of lace and embroiderywith plump, white fingers--a woman waited and watched for the comingof Lucian Davlin.
A woman, fair of face, hazel-eyed, sunny-haired, with a form too plumpto be quite classical, yet graceful and prepossessing in the extreme.A very fair face, and a very wise one; the face of a woman of theworld, who knows it in all its phases; who is able, in her ownpeculiar manner, to guide her life bark successfully if not correctly,and who has little to acquire, in the way of experience, save the artof growing old gracefully and of dying with an acquitted conscience.
No unsophisticated girl was Cora Weston, but a woman ofeight-and-twenty; an adventuress by nature and by calling, and withbeauty enough, and brains enough, to make her chosen professionprosperous, if not proper.
She paused before a mirror, carefully adjusting her fleecy hair, foreven in pressing emergencies such women never forget their personalappearance. This done, she pondered a moment and then pulled the bell.A most immaculate colored gentleman answered her summons and, bowinglow, stood waiting her will.
"Henry, is it not time that your master were here? The train iscertainly due; are you sure he will come? What did he telegraph you?"
"That he would arrive on the one o'clock express, madame; and he neverfails."
"Very well. If he does not appear soon, Henry, you must go and inquireif the train has been delayed, and if so, telegraph. My business isimperative."
The well trained servant bowed again, and, at a signal from her,withdrew. Left alone, she continued her silent march, listening ever,until at length a quick footstep came down the passage. Flingingherself into the depths of a great easy chair, she assumed an air oflistless indifference, and so greeted the new comer.
"Gracious heavens, Cora! what brings you here like this? I thought youhad sailed, and was regretting it by this time."
He hurried to her side and she half rose to return his caress. Thensinking back, she surveyed him with a lazy half smile. "I wonder ifyou are glad to see me, Lucian, my angel; you are such a hypocrite."
He laughed lightly, and threw himself into a seat near her. "CandidCora, you are not a hypocrite,--with me," and he looked admiringly yetimpatiently at her. "Come," he said, at length, as she continued totap her slender foot lazily, and to regard him silently through halfclosed lashes: "what does it all mean? Fairest of women, tell me."
"It means, _Mon Brave_, that I did not sail in the _Golden Rose_; Ionly sent my hat and veil."
"Wonderful woman! Well, thereby hangs a tale, and I listen."
"I came back to see--"
"Not old Verage?" he interrupted, maliciously.
"No, hush: he saw me safely on board the _Golden Rose_--very gallantof him, wasn't it?"
"Rather--yes, considering. And if I did not know Miss Cora Weston sovery well, I should be surprised at all this mystery; as it is, Isimply wait to be enlightened."
"And enlightened you shall be, monsieur."
She threw off her air of listlessness and arose, crossing over andstanding before him, leaning upon a high-backed chair, and speakingrapidly.
Lucian, meantime, produced a cigar case, lit a weed, and assuming theattitude and manner she had just abandoned, bade her proceed.
"You see," she said, "I did not like the idea of quitting the countrybecause of a little difference of opinion between myself and an oldidiot like Verage."
"A difference of some thousands out of pocket for him; well, go on."
"Just so, comrade mine. Well, fortune favored me; she generally does.I learned, at almost the last moment, that a lady of my acquaintancehad taken passage in the same vessel. I interviewed her, and found herin the condition of the good people in novels who have seen betterdays; her exchequer was at low ebb, and, like myself, she had reasonswhich induced her to emigrate. I did not inquire into these, having noreason to doubt the statement, but I accompanied her on board the_Golden Rose_, bade her a fond farewell, and bequeathed to her mystreet apparel and a trifling sum of old Verage's money. In exchange,I donned her bonnet and veil, and adopted her rather awkward gait, andso had the satisfaction of seeing, on my return to terra firma, oldVerage gazing enraptured after my Paris bonnet and floating veil as itdisappeared with my friend, outward bound."
"Well, what next? All the world, your world, supposes you now upon thebriny deep. Old Verage will be rejoiced to find you here in the city;what then?"
"I think he will," said Cora, dryly, "when he does find me. I did notcome here in the dark to advertise my arrival."
"Bravo, Cora," he patted her hands softly; "wise Cora. You are acredit to your friends, indeed you are, my blonde beauty."
She laughed softly;--a kittenish, purring laugh.
"Well, Lucian, time flies and I throw myself on your mercy. Recommendme to some nice quiet retreat, not too far from the city, but at asafe distance; put me in a carriage, at daylight, which will carry meout to some by-station, where I can take passage behind the ironhorse, unmolested, for fresh fields and pastures new."
Davlin pondered a moment as if he had not already decided upon hiscourse of action. He knew the woman he had to deal with, and shapedhis words accordingly. "A retired spot,--let me see. I wonder, byJove,"--brightening suddenly, "I think I have the right thing foryou."
"Well, when Lucian Davlin 'thinks' he has a point, that point isgained; proceed, man of might."
"You see," began Lucian, in a business-like tone, "I took one of my'skips' for change of scene and recreation."
"And safe quarters until the wind shifted," interrupted she. "Well, goon."
He laughed softly, "Even so. We children of chance do need to takeflying trips sometimes, but I did not set out for Europe, Cora mine,and I wore my own clothes home."
"Bravo! But old Verage don't want you, and the wind _has_ changed;proceed."
"Well, as usual, I found myself in luck, and if I had been a niceyoung widow, might have taken Summer quarters in the snug littlevillage of Bellair."
"Not being a widow, relate your experience as a rusticating gentlemanat large. You excite my curiosity."
Lucian removed his cigar from between his lips, and lazilycontemplated his fair _vis a vis_.
"How long a time must elapse before the most magnificent of blondeswill think it fitting, safe, and," with a slight smile, "expedient toreturn and resume her sovereignty here, on this hearth, and," strikinghis breast theatrically, "in this heart?"
The "most magnificent of blondes" looked first, approvingly, at herimage displayed in the full length mirror opposite, then coolly at herinterrogator.
"Hum! that depends. The lady you so flatter can't abide dullness andinaction, and too much stupidity might overcome her natural timidity,in which case even my ardent old pursuer could not scare me intosubmission and banishment. If I could only find an occup
ation, now,for my--"
"Peculiar talents," he suggested; "that's just the point. And now, Iwonder if you wouldn't make a remarkably charming young widow?"
"So you have an idea, then, Lucian? Just toss me a bunch of thosecigarettes, please,--thank you. Now a light; and now, if it's notasking too much, will you proceed to explain yourself, and tell mewhat fortunate being you desire me, in the character of a fair widow,to besiege? What he is like; and why?"
"Admirable Cora! what other woman could smoke a cigarette with such aperfect air of doing the proper thing; so much of Spanish grace."
"And so much genuine enjoyment," she added, comfortably. "Smoke is mypoetry, Lucian. When far from my gaze, and I desire to call up yourmost superb image, I can do so much more comfortably andsatisfactorily inspired by my odorous little Perique."
"Blessed Perique! Cora shall have them always. But back to my widow;an absence of six months, perhaps, would be a judicious thing justnow, you think?"
"More would be safer," she smiled, "if the Peri can keep aloof fromParadise so long."
"How would the Peri fancy taking up her permanent abode outside thewalls of Paradise?"
She removed the fragrant gilded cigar in miniature from between tworosy, pursed-up lips, and surveyed him in mute astonishment.
"Provided," he proceeded, coolly, "provided she found a country home,bank account, and equipage to her liking, with everything her own way,and ample opportunities for trips to Paradise, making visits to herbrother and her city friends--and a fine prospect of soon becomingsole possessor of said country mansion, bank stock, etc.?"
She placed the tiny weed once more between her lips, and sending upperfumed, curling little volumes of smoke, settled herself morecomfortably and said, nonchalantly, "That depends; furtherparticulars, please."
It was wonderful how these two understood each other. She knew that hehad for her a plan fully matured, and wasting no time in needlessquestionings, waited to hear the gist of the whole matter, assuredfrom past experience that he would suggest nothing that would be anundertaking unworthy of her talent, and he knew that she would weighhis suggestions while they were being made, and be ready with herdecision at the close.
Long had they plotted and prospered together, these two Bohemians ofmost malevolent type; and successfully and oft played into eachother's hands. Never yet had the good fortune of the one been devoidof profit to the other; knowing this, each felt safe in accepting,unquestioned, the suggestions of the other; and because of this, shefelt assured now that, in this present scheme, there was something tobe gained for him as well as herself.
When the looker-on wonders idly at the strength of ties such as thosewhich bound together these two, and the length of their duration, hehas never considered their nature--the similarity of tastes,similarity of pursuits, and the crowning fact of the mutual benefitderived from such association.
Find a man who lives by successful manipulations of the hand-book ofchance, and who bows to the deity of three aces; who finds victims infortified places, and whose most hazardous scheme is surest ofsuccess; who walks abroad the admired of his contemporaries, who envyhim his position as fortune's favorite in proportion as they ply theirown similar trade near the foot of the ladder of chance; who shows tomen the dress and manner of a gentleman, and to the angels the heartof a fiend--and you will find that man aided and abetted, upheld andapplauded, by a woman, his fitting companion by nature or education.She is unscrupulous as he, daring as he, finding him victims that hisarm could not reach; plying the finer branch of a dangerous butprofitable trade; sharing his prosperity, rescuing from adversity;valued because necessary, and knowing her value therefore fearing norival.
Cora was beautiful in Davlin's eyes, and secure in his affections,because she was valuable, even necessary, to him. He cared for herbecause in so doing he was caring for himself, and placing any "card"in her hands was only the surest means of enlarging his own pack.While she, for whether a woman is good or bad she is ever the slave ofher own heart, recognizing the fact of the mutual benefit resultingfrom their comradeship, and improving, in her character of a woman ofthe world, every opportunity to profit by him, yet she saw in him theone man who possessed her love. Though the life she had led had wornout all the romantic tendencies of her nature, and had turned the"languishing of her eye" into sharp glances in the direction of themain chance, still she lavished upon him the best of her heart, andheld his interest ever the equal of her own. After the manner of such,they were loyal to each other.
"Then," pursued Lucian, "listen, and a tale I will unfold."
In his own way, he proceeded to describe the intended victim; hishome, his wealth, his state of solitude, together with the facts hehad gathered up here and there relative to his leading characteristicsand weaknesses, whereby he might be successfully manipulated byskilled hands. The boldness of his plan made even Cora start, andinstead of her usually ready decision and answer, she favored him witha wondering, thoughtful stare.
"You see," concluded Lucian, "he can't live forever at the worst, andthe estate is a handsome one. You could easily make yourself queenabsolute of the situation, and go and come at your own sweet will. Ithink as a good brother I should be a magnificent success, and anornament to your country mansion in the lazy Summer."
"And if I don't approve of the speculation after a trial, I can commitsuicide or vanish," Cora said, meditatingly.
"Just so," laughed he; "and take the spoons."
"You are sure there are no incumbrances; perfectly sure of that?" shequestioned.
"Perfectly sure. There was a step-daughter, but she ran away with someforeigner;" here he smiled, and veiled his eyes, lest she should readaright their expression. "He would not give her a penny, or a crust ofbread, were she to return. He hated her from her earliest day; but sheis not likely to reappear in any case."
"If she should, you might marry her, you know," she suggested,maliciously.
"So I might," he said, shutting his eyes again; "and we would allsettle down into respectable members of society--charming picture.But, jesting aside, how do you like the prospect?"
She tossed away her cigarette and, rising, paced the room in silencefor a few moments.
Lucian whistled, softly, a few bars from a favorite opera; thenlighted a fresh cigar, and puffed away, leaning lazily back andwatching her face furtively out of half closed eyes.
"I think," she said, resuming her seat, "that I will take a nearerview of this 'prospect' of yours."
He nodded his head and waited for her to proceed.
"I think the _role_ of widow might interest me for a little time, soI'll take myself and my 'delicate constitution' down to your promisinghaven of rest. I'll 'view the landscape o'er,' and the prospect of anopportunity for a little sharp practice will make my banishment moreendurable; of course, my resignation will increase as the situationbecomes more interesting."
"Which it is sure to do," he said, rising quickly and crossing to thewindow. "The thing is as good as done; you always accomplish what youundertake; and you'll find the game worth the powder. The fact is,Cora," he continued, seriously, "you and I have engineered so manydelicate little affairs successfully, here in the city, that, as acombination, we are pretty well known just now; too well, in fact, forour own ease and comfort. Your supposed trip to Europe was a luckything, and will throw all officiously-interested ones off your trackcompletely. I shall limit my operations here for a time; shall makethis merely headquarters, in fact, and 'prospect,' like yourself, infresh fields. And now, it being nearly morning, and quite necessarythat you should be on your victorious march, let us consider finalways and means."
In a concise, business-like way, they arranged and discussed, theresult of the whole being briefly this:
Cora would drive at early dawn to a suburban station, and from thencego by rail to a village midway between the city and her finaldestination; and there await her luggage, and the arrival of Lucian.He would join her shortly, and proceed with her to Bellair, in
hischaracter of brother; see her comfortably settled, and leave her toher new undertaking.
And thus it was that in the gray of morning a veiled lady,sweet-voiced and elegant in manner, stepped from a close carriage at alittle wayside station, and sped away at the heels of the iron horse.
And thus it was that Lucian Davlin, reappearing in Bellair andlistening in well simulated surprise to the story of the suddendisappearance of John Arthur's step-daughter, effectually put toflight any idea--forming in the brains of the few who knew, orconjectured, that these two had met--that he had aught to do with hermysterious flitting. In truth, none save old Hagar knew of thefrequency of their clandestine meetings, and she never breathed toothers the thoughts and suspicions that haunted her brain.
And thus it was, too, that Cora Weston, in her new _role_ oflanguishing widow, secluded carefully from the vulgar gaze, heardnever a word of Madeline's flight. And when, later, the fact wasrevealed to her, none save old Hagar could have named the precise dateof the event. So even wise Cora never connected the fate of theunfortunate girl with the doings of Lucian Davlin.