CHAPTER LXVIII.
A PROMISE RETRACTED.
Left alone, Leslie Warburton faced her problem, and found herselfmastered by it. She had believed herself already overwhelmed withmisery--had fancied that in coming among these people who claimed her,she had taken the last step down into the valley of humiliation, ofshame, of utter wretchedness. But they had shown her a lower depthstill, and bidden her descend into it.
Should she obey them? Her pulses were throbbing violently, a fierceflame burned in either cheek, a shade of the old delirium lurked in hereye. Should she crown her list of miseries with this culminating horror?Why should she not? What had she to lose? She, who had already losthusband, home and happiness; she, who was already an outcast, accused oftreachery, of child-stealing, of murder; she, who was only a waif atbest, and who could claim no kindred unless she accepted those whoseroof then sheltered her? What had she to lose? Only her life, and thatmust end soon. Why not make this last sacrifice, then let it end.
Her calmness, that before had been at best but the calmness of despair,had forsaken her; had changed to the recklessness of desperation. Fasterand faster throbbed her pulses, hotter surged the blood through herfevered veins, wilder gleamed the light of her eyes.
Born of her weakness, her misery, her growing delirium, came a fierce,unreasoning rebellion; a longing to thrust upon the shoulders of AlanWarburton, who, more than any other, had been the cause of her presentwoe, a portion of this weight that dragged her down. Had she notsuffered enough for the "Warburton honor?" Why not force him to treadwith her this valley of humiliation?
Then followed other thoughts--better thoughts, humbler thoughts, but allmorbid, all tinged by her half delirious fancy, all reckless of self.
And now every moment adds to her torture, increases the fever in herblood, the frenzy of her brain.
"I _must_ end it!" she cries wildly. "I _must_ save Daisy! And afterthat what matter how my day goes out?"
She walks swiftly to the door and attempts to open it. Useless; it isfastened from the outer side. She seizes the handle and shakes itfiercely. It seems an hour, it is really a moment, when Mamma unlocksthe door and appears before her.
"You--"
"I have decided," breaks in Leslie. "I shall make the sacrifice."
"You will marry this worthy man?"
"I will save Daisy from your clutches, and his."
"In his own way?"
"In his own way, and yours. Let it be over as soon as possible. Where isthis man?"
"Gently, gently; he is not far away."
"So much the better. I cannot rest now till all is done. I must takeDaisy back to her home; the rest is nothing."
Mamma looks at her craftily.
"You agree to _all_ the terms?" she asks. "Will you swear to keep yourword?"
"I will do anything, when I am assured that I shall have Daisy safelyback."
"Ah!" ejaculates Mamma, indulging in a long sigh of relieved anxiety, "Iwill go tell Franz. He is as anxious to have the business settled as youare."
"_Franz!_"
"Yes; it is Franz that you will marry."
"Franz!" the word comes in a breathless whisper. "_Your son--theconvict?_"
"You needn't put so much force upon that. Yes; Franzy's the man."
A new look dawns upon Leslie's face. A new light gleams from her eyes.She presses her palms to her forehead, then slowly approaches Mamma,with the uncertain movements of one groping in the dark.
"You told--" she articulates, as if struggling for self-mastery. "Woman,you told me that Franz Francoise was _your_ son."
"So he is. _I_ ain't ashamed of him," Mamma answers sullenly.
"Then,"--Leslie clutches at the nearest support and fairly gasps thewords--"then--_who am I_?"
"Well, it can't be kept back any longer, it seems. You are--"
"Not your child?" cries Leslie. "Not yours?"
"No; you ain't ours by birth, but you're ours by adoption. We've rearedye, and we've made ye what ye are."
But Leslie pays no heed to this latter statement. She has fallen uponher knees with hands uplifted, and streaming eyes.
"Not her child; not hers! Oh, God, I thank thee! Oh, God, forgive me forwhat I was about to do!"
Long, shivering sighs follow this outburst; then moments of silence,during which Mamma stands irresolute, puzzled as to Leslie's manner,uncertain how to act.
A sound behind her breaks the uncomfortable stillness, and Mamma turnsquickly, to see Franz standing in the open doorway.
"Franz,--" begins the old woman.
The word arouses Leslie, she rises to her feet so swiftly, with suchsudden strength of movement, and such a new light upon her face, thatMamma breaks off abruptly and stands staring from one to the other.
"Woman," says Leslie slowly and with strange calm, "those are the firstwelcome words you ever uttered for my hearing. Say them again. Say thatI am not your child."
"I don't see what it matters," mutters Mamma sullenly. "You will beour'n fast enough when you're married to Franz."
"Eh!" Franz utters only this syllable, and advances step by step intothe room.
A moment Leslie stands gazing from one to the other. Then her form growsmore erect, the new hope brighter in her eyes, she seems growingstronger each moment.
"Half an hour ago," she says, "I had not one thing to hope for, or tolive for, save the restoration of Daisy Warburton, for I believed myselfaccursed. Rebel as my soul would, while your lips repeated your claimupon me I could not escape you. While you persisted in your lies, I washelpless. Now--"
Mamma's hands work convulsively; her eyes glitter dangerously; she lookslike a cat about to spring upon its prey. As Leslie pauses thusabruptly, her lips emit a sharp hiss, but before words can follow, aheavy hand grasps her arm.
"Go on," says Franz coolly; "now?"
"Do you know the proposition that woman has just made me?" asks Leslieabruptly.
"'Twon't be good for her, if she has made ye a proposition I don't knowon," says Franz grimly, and tightening his clutch upon Mamma's arm. "An'fer fear of any hocus-pocus, suppose you jest go over it fer mybenefit."
"She has told me that you can, if you will, restore Daisy Warburton toher home."
"No? has she?"
"That you, and you only, know where to look for the child."
"Umph!"
"And that you will restore the child only on one condition."
"And wot's that?"
"That I consent to marry you."
"Wal," says Franz, turning a facetious look upon Mamma, and giving herarm a gentle shake; "the old un may have trifled with the truth, hereand there, but she's right in the main. How did the proposition strikeye?"
Leslie turns from him and fixes her gaze upon the old woman.
"And this," she says, "is the man you would mate me with! Woman, youhave overreached yourself. Believing, or fearing, myself to be _your_child, I might have been driven to any act of desperation. You havelifted that burden of horror from off my heart. I am _not_ your child!No blood of yours poisons my veins! Do you think in the moment when Ifind the taint removed, I would doubly defile myself by taking the stepyou have proposed? Never! Your power over me is gone!"
"Do ye mean," queries Franz quite coolly, "that you won't take up withthe old woman's bargain?"
"She _has_ done it!" cries Mamma fiercely. "She's given her promise!"
"And I now retract it!"
"What!" Mamma suddenly wrenches herself free and springs toward Leslie."You won't marry Franz?"
"Never! The fear which has made me a coward is gone. I shall go back tomy own. I will tell my story far and wide. I feared nothing so much asthe shame of being pointed out as the child of such parents. You willnot dare repeat that imposture; I defy you. As for little Daisy, I willfind her; I will punish you--"
"You will find her!" Mamma's voice is horrible in its hoarse rage. "Nowmark my words: You will _never_ find her. She will never see daylightagain. As for _you_, you will marry F
ranz Francoise to-morrow, or youwill go out of this place between two officers, arrested as themurderess of Josef Siebel!"
It is more than she can bear. The strength born of her strong excitementdeserts her. Mamma's eyes burn into her own; she feels her hot, balefulbreath upon her cheek; hears the horrible words hissed so close to herear; and with a low moan falls forward, to be caught in the arms ofFranz Francoise, where she lies pallid and senseless.
"Git out!" says Franz, as he lifts her and turns toward Mamma. "You'vedone it now, you old cat. Let me lay her down."
He carries Leslie to the bed, and places her upon it so gently thatMamma sneers and glares upon him scornfully.
"Ye're a fool, Franz Francoise."
"Now mark my words: You will never find her. She willnever see daylight again."--page 354.]
"Shet up, you! Ye've got somethin' to do besides talk. D'ye mean to haveher die on our hands?"
"'Twon't matter much, it seems."
"I tell ye 'twill matter. Do ye think this thing's settled? Not much.We're goin' ter bring her to terms yet, but she's got ter be alivefirst."
She turns upon him a look in which anger and admiration are curiouslymingled.
"'Tain't no use, Franzy; that gal won't give in now."
"I tell ye she will. You've tried your hand; now I'll try mine. Bringthe girl out o' this faint, an' I'll manage her. Do what ye can, thengit yer doctor. Ye'd better not have him come here ef ye kin managewithout him; but go see him, git what she needs, an'," with asignificant wink, "ye might say that she don't rest well and git a fewsleepin' powders."
"Franz," chuckles Mamma, beginning her work of restoration with bustlingactivity, "ye ought to be a general. I'm proud of ye."