Kitty's Conquest

  CHAPTER XIV.

  Another minute the match, spluttering in the damp night air, wasextinguished; but I had seen enough. To the amaze of my companion, tothe scandal of any legal or professional education I might have had,indignation got the better of all discretion, and I burst through theshrubbery and laid my hand on the rein.

  "Mr. Peyton, I believe," said I, in a tone intended to be double-shottedwith sarcasm. "Think we had the pleasure of meeting at Judge----"

  "Hell!" hissed a startled voice. "Quick,--drive on!" Crack! went thewhip; the horse plunged violently forward; the wheel struck me full onthe left leg and hurled me against the stout branches of some drippingbush, and with a whirr of wheels and crushing of gravel the buggydisappeared in the darkness. Mr. Parker ran to my assistance, andtogether we rushed to our own cab.

  "Follow that buggy! Be lively!" was all I could find breath to say toour driver, and then we were off in pursuit. We heard their hoofs andwheels thundering over the bayou bridge, and saw their light vehicleflash under the lamps at the Canal Street end, and that was the last weever did see of them. Our old horse with his heavy load was no match fortheirs. Long before we reached the open road beyond the cemeteries, theywere spinning along hundreds of yards out of sight ahead, and gaining atevery stride. In hurried words I told the aide-de-camp who the youth wasand what I knew about him, and, like myself, he was eager to overhaulhim; but it was useless. Not a trace could we find of the precious pairas we drove in town. Day was breaking, and all our thoughts now turnedto Amory. Where was he, and how had he escaped the trap?

  In the cold, misty dawn we reined up at the Magazine Street warehouse.The sentry, with his head wrapped in the cape of his overcoat, calledout the corporal of the guard, and of him we eagerly inquired. Yes. Thelieutenant had returned, about an hour ago, his horse covered with mudand much "blown." The lieutenant seemed to have a chill, and had goneright to his room. Thither we followed, and noiselessly ascending thestairs, made our way out to the gallery. A dim light burned in thewindow; the door was half open, and by the bedside sat a soldier, who atsight of Mr. Parker rose and saluted respectfully.

  "What has been the matter, orderly?" asked the aide-de-camp, in awhisper.

  "I don't quite know, sir. Lieutenant Amory came home with a bad chillabout an hour ago, and quick as he dismounted I came over with him, andhe took some quinine and got to bed. He's just gone to sleep. He hasn'tbeen to bed for forty-eight hours, sir, and must be used up."

  We stepped forward and bent over him. He had removed his heavyriding-boots and trousers; his cavalry jacket was thrown on the chair atthe foot of the bed; and, muffled up in blankets, he lay there, sleepingheavily yet uneasily. He moaned in his slumber, and threw himselfrestlessly on the other side as we raised the light to see his face.Placing my hand lightly on his forehead, I found it burning; so were hischeeks, his hands. Fever had certainly set in after his chill, but ofhow severe a character we could not judge, and it would never do toawaken him. We stepped out on the landing, and after a briefconsultation, decided that Parker should find the attending surgeon andsend him to us as soon as possible. Meantime, I would remain with Amory.

  In less than an hour the doctor arrived. Very thoroughly, yet verygently, he examined his patient as to pulse and temperature; closelyscrutinized his face, and then replaced the bed-clothing that in hisfevered tossing Amory had thrown off. Seeing the anxiety in my eyes, hespoke,--

  "Very feverish, and probably quite ill. You did right not to wake him.He will not sleep long, and every little helps. I will stay for thepresent, and be with him when he does wake, for until then I cannotreally judge of his condition. What a night you have had of it, Mr.Brandon! Parker has been telling me something of it."

  I glanced half reproachfully at Parker. We had agreed to keep the thingto ourselves until I could see Harrod and consult with him. But the aidepromptly relieved me of any misapprehension. He had "named no names,"nor had he spoken of the part played by Peyton. Then, at the doctor'ssuggestion, we withdrew, to seek such rest as we could find after ournight in the rain. Leaving Parker at headquarters, with the promise tomeet him late in the afternoon, I went to my own rooms, gave mysuspicious-looking landlady directions that I was not to be disturbeduntil noon, and, tired out, slept until after two o'clock.

  When I opened my eyes, Harrod Summers rose from an easy-chair in thesitting-room, and came forward to greet me with outstretched hand. Oneglance at his face showed that he had something of lively interest totell me, and as I sat up half sleepily in bed and answered his query asto whether I felt rested or any the worse for the night's adventures, Icould see plainly that there was some matter that worried him, anddivined quite readily that he wanted to speak with me. It all came outwhile I was shaving and dressing, and, dovetailed with what was alreadyknown to Mr. Parker and myself, "a very pretty quarrel" as it stood wasunfolded to my ears.

  It seems that on leaving the theatre the night previous, Colonel Summershad stepped ahead of Kitty and her friend, Lieutenant Turpin, and wassearching for me. Seeing nothing of me in the crowd around the entrance,he looked in at one or two resorts along Canal Street, thinking itpossible that he might meet some officers who could tell him of Amory'smovements, and so enable him to judge of mine. Meantime, Turpin andKitty strolled homeward, arm in arm. On reaching the Clay statue, Harroddecided to search no farther, but to go home, feeling sure that ifanything were wrong I would follow him thither. At the house Pauline methim with anxious inquiry. Had he seen or heard anything of Mr. Amory?Kitty had returned ten or fifteen minutes before; had bidden Mr. Turpina very abrupt good-night, and excused herself on the plea of fatigue andheadache; and Pauline, following her to her room, found her very paleand nervous, and learned from her that Amory had been at the theatre,looking "so strangely" she thought he was ill; and, as they came downthe street, two men in a buggy drove up close beside them, and leanedout and stared at them. She was utterly upset by Amory's appearance,perhaps, and thinking of him, did not notice this performance until Mr.Turpin suddenly dropped her arm and strode fiercely towards the buggy,as though to demand the meaning of the conduct of its occupants;whereupon they had whipped up and dashed off around the first corner;and one of them--though his hat and coat-collar concealed his face--oneof them looked, she said, strangely like Ned Peyton. Pauline, seeing hernervousness and fright, had soothed her with arguments as to theimpossibility of Peyton's being there; but she very anxiously spoke ofthe matter to Harrod. Then, after we had made our midnight visit, Kitty,in her loose wrapper, white as a sheet and trembling with dread andexcitement, had stolen to Pauline's room. Her own window overlooked thebalcony and the street, and unable to sleep, as she told Pauline, shewas lying wide awake, when she heard rapid hoof-beats on the pavementcoming from Canal Street,--a horse at rapid trot, but with no sound ofwheels in company, and the horse halted before their door. Unable torestrain her curiosity or anxiety, she had risen, stolen to the window,and peered out through the slats of the blind. A gas-lamp threw itslight upon the street in front, and there, plainly illumined by itsglare, sat Frank Amory in the saddle, gazing up at her window. Sheturned instantly, she knew not why, and stepped back. He could not haveseen her, yet, in another moment, rapidly as he came, he rode away,turned to the left at the corner, and she heard his hoof-beats dyingaway in the direction of Dauphin Street. That was all, until we came,and not until I had gone had she courage to creep over to Pauline andtell her what she had seen.

  Early in the morning Harrod had gone to headquarters; found Amory'saddress, and on going thither was told by a soldier that the lieutenantwas too ill to see anybody. But, on sending up his name, the doctor andMr. Parker came down, and from them he learned that Amory had a sharpattack of fever; nothing like as serious as Vinton's, and one that wouldsoon yield to treatment, provided nothing else went wrong. "There hasbeen some sore trouble or anxiety which has been telling upon Amory,"said the doctor, "and that complicates matters somewhat. He _may_ havehad some delirium last night, but not enough to cause su
ch a freak as anall-night gallop. In fact, Parker has confided to me that Mr. Brandonand himself know something of the matter, and that they mean to have atalk with you."

  "And that," said Harrod, "is what brought me here four hours ago,though I had the grace not to disturb you. Now, what is it? What do youknow? Has that young cub Peyton been at the bottom of this?"

  And then I told Harrod the story of our night's adventures. He listenedat first with composure; but when it came to the description of the twoskulkers at Gaston's and the conversation I had overheard, he roseexcitedly and began pacing rapidly up and down the room, tuggingfiercely at his moustache. Every now and then some muttered anathemafell from his lips. He was evidently powerfully and unpleasantly moved,and when at last my prolix recital was brought to an end with thediscovery of Peyton, and our fruitless chase, Harrod burst out intogenuine imprecation,--

  "The doubly damned young scoundrel!" he groaned. "Why, Brandon, Ibelieve there is no cowardly villainy of which that fellow is notcapable. I ought to have gone with you. I _knew_ I ought to have gone."

  "Why so?"

  "Then we could have secured him by this time. It is too late now, Ifear. He is off for Havana or Mexico."

  "But what good would that have done? What could we prove? What would youwant him secured for now that we have Amory safe and warned against himin the future? You would not care to have the thing made public, wouldyou?"

  "Not if _that_ were all! By heaven! the easiest solution of the wholething would be to let him try to trap Amory once more, and let Amoryknow all that--that we both know."

  "Do you mean that he has been at other mischief than this mysteriousattempt at Amory?"

  "Yes. We thought him safely out of the way,--in Cuba. He was there, butmust have come directly to this point when he heard of the verdict inthose Ku-Klux cases. You know they acquitted Smith. No jury could befound that dared do otherwise, I suppose," he added gloomily.

  "I knew that, of course; but why should that bring Peyton here?"

  "He _had_ to leave Havana, Brandon. Don't you remember father's anxietyat Sandbrook before we came away? and what he said about its perhapsbeing too late for any effort on his part? I was to have told you, but Icouldn't bear to just yet. Why, that damned scoundrel forged father'ssignature to a large draft, and got the money there where the bankersknew them both. It was only discovered here in New Orleans when thedraft came to the Hibernia, and as the loss comes on these oldcorrespondents of father's in Havana, he feels bound to see themreimbursed, for he cannot bear the thought of disgrace to his name orthat of a kinsman. By Peyton's arrest we might secure part of the money.That is all, for he has taken every cent father had in the world."

  "Then the sooner we get to the chief of police and acquaint him withPeyton's movements and description the better it will be," said I, whofelt no scruples whatever against bringing master Ned to the bar ofjustice.

  "It's too late, Brandon, I'm afraid. He saw Amory yesterday and Kittylast night; he knows by this time we are here, and he is miles away.Father had telegraphed at once that he would refund the amount ofPeyton's forged raise, and so suspended pursuit or arrest. Peyton ofcourse has heard of this or he would not have ventured hither in thefirst place; but he well knows that with me here it is no place for him.We will go, of course, and start the detectives, but I fear we have losthim. Do you think Amory can see us this evening and tell us what heknows of this affair?"

  "We must see him, unless the doctor prohibits it; but come first to theCity Hall," said I. And as we rode thither in a street-car, both deeplyengrossed in thought, Harrod turned suddenly towards me,--

  "Brandon, this is the most extraordinary piece of cross-purposes to me.For three weeks--for a month past, Frank Amory has been a mystery. Weall thought him growing very fond of Kitty, and after the affair on theTennessee, where he was hurt, she seemed very much interested in him.Now for nearly a month he has avoided her, and she thinks that--well,she gave me a message for him the night we started, which virtuallybegged his forgiveness for something she had said or done to wound him.She would never have sent it if she did not believe he cared for her. Ofcourse I have never delivered it, because she was here to speak forherself, and told me not to; but he has treated her with something likeaversion, and she resents it, and now she's flirting with young Turpin,and then there will be more trouble. Great heavens! what a world ofmisunderstandings it is!" And Harrod laughed despite his anxiety.

  Having some inkling by this time as to the secret of Amory's hesitancyand strange conduct towards Kitty, I told Harrod that a solution of thematter had occurred to me. There was an explanation, I believed, and asatisfactory one, and it would appear very shortly I thought. This, inprofound wisdom and some mystery of manner, I imparted to the perplexedcolonel. He gazed at me in bewilderment, but was polite enough to pressthe matter no further.

  "A few days will straighten that matter," said I. "We will see when heis well enough to be about again." And in my purblind idiocy I reallyfancied that letter of mine to Bella Grayson was going to settleeverything.

  Our visit at police headquarters was brief and not particularlysatisfactory. It was already past steamer time for both Havana and VeraCruz. If Peyton were "wanted," a telegram to the quarantine station,with his full description, might establish whether or no he was onboard; but there were no officers there to make the arrest, and anarrest was not wanted in any event,--it was the recovery of the money.If he had not left town it was just barely possible they might nab him;but dozens of river boats left New Orleans for a dozen different pointsevery evening, and there were hundreds of hiding-places in the cityitself. He would try, said the chief, and one or two solemn-looking menin civilian's dress came in at his call and listened attentively to ourdescription of Peyton and his companion; but, one and all, they saidthey would like to hear Lieutenant Amory's account of what he had had todo with the pair. So, taking one of the detectives, we drove up toAmory's lodging.

  The doctor was there and came down to meet us. I told him our dilemma,and asked if it were possible to hear Amory's story. He looked grave fora moment, and considered well before answering.

  "You might see him, Mr. Brandon, if that will do. I would much rather hedid not talk until to-morrow, but if there be an emergency, why, he canstand it. He is doing well, has slept well since his medicine began totake hold this morning, and now he's awake and inclined to be fretful.Something worries him, and perhaps it may be a benefit to see you."

  So Harrod and the detective waited, while I went up to interview Mars.

  Bless the boy's face! It brightened so at sight of me that I felt likean uncle towards him. He was very pale, rather feeble, but eagerlygrasped my hand and welcomed me.

  "Mr. Brandon has come to see you on business of some importance, Mr.Amory," said the doctor, "and you can talk with him, but talk as littleas possible. We want to get you up and ready to travel, if you are boundto go North, so quiet will be necessary for a day or two."

  With that he vanished, taking the nurse with him. Then I told Amory thatParker and I had been in search of him late at night, and fearing he wastaken ill, as Vinton had been, we trailed him out to the shell road, andthere came upon Peyton and a burly stranger, from whose conversation wefound they were lying in wait for him. The moment they were discoveredthey drove off in a hurry. Could he give any clue by which we could findthem? Peyton was "wanted" for a grave crime.

  "What?" asked Amory, flushing, and excited.

  "Forgery," I answered. "Now let me be brief as possible, Amory. I hateto excite you at such a time. Have you any idea where he is to-day, orwho the other man is?"

  "None whatever."

  "Tell me, quietly as you can, how you came to go out there alone onhorseback last night. Were you ill then?"

  "Not so ill but that I knew what I was about. I had had some fever allday, probably, and--and was worried about something,--a letter frommother. She wants me to come North at once, and I would have gone butfor this. Perhaps it worked on me a good de
al. It was late when we gotback from Jeffersonville. I wrote a note to Parker, and left it atheadquarters, and went on down-town, hoping to see Vinton, and intendingto dine with you at Moreau's. I did not feel well, but I wanted to seeyou. Right there by the City Hotel a passing cab splashed me with mud,and I turned into the barber-shop to have it rubbed off. Quite a numberof men were in there, talking a good deal, and seemed to have beendrinking, but I paid no particular attention to them, until just as Iwas leaving one of them said, 'There's the ---- ----d Yank now, Peyton.What better chance do you want?' Of course I turned quickly and wentright up to the fellow. One or two others sprang forward. Some one said,'Shut up, you fool!' but it was too late. The man was drunk, probably,and having put his foot in it, had bravado enough not to back outentirely. He was in one of the chairs, his face covered with lather, andas I inquired if he referred to me, he replied, with drunken gravity,that his friend, Mr. Peyton, had expressed a desire to meet me, and'there he was.' Sure enough there was young Peyton, stepping out frombetween the chairs to his right, his face black as thunder. I was mad asa hornet, of course, and never stopped to think. 'Are you responsiblefor this gentleman's language?' said I. 'Just as you please,' said he;and with that I struck him full under the jaw, and knocked him backamong the shaving-cups and bottles. Of course there was a terrible row.He drew his pistol, but it was yanked out of his hand by some stranger.A dozen men jumped in and separated us. I didn't know one of them, butthey seemed bent on having fair play. He raved about satisfaction, and Isaid any time and any place. Then a gentlemanly-speaking fellowsuggested that the friends or seconds meet at the Cosmopolitan, at teno'clock; that would give plenty of time, and obviate any trouble there.And before I fully realized the situation it was agreed that we were tosettle the thing according to the code, and our friends were to meet atten o'clock. With that he was led off, and I went out to think thematter over. Of course there was nothing to do but fight. I had knockedhim down and was bound to give him satisfaction. But this was no cadetfisticuff; it was a serious matter, and I needed a friend. Of course itought to be an officer, and now that Vinton was ill, I had no one withwhom to advise. I went down to the depot to find Turpin. He was aclassmate, and the very fellow to back me; but Turpin wasn't there. Iwent to Moreau's in search of him, and--well, he was busy, and Icouldn't ask him. Then I went up to headquarters for Parker. He wasyears ahead of me at the Point, but I knew he would see me through; butParker was out. He lived way up-town, and when I got there they told mehe had gone to the theatre. That is what brought me to the Varieties. Itwas getting late, and I had nobody to act for me. All those infantryfellows were strangers, and at ten o'clock I had to go to theCosmopolitan myself. Not a soul was there whom I knew, though one or twomen dropped in who looked curiously at me, and whom I thought I had seenduring the row.

  "It was nearly eleven o'clock, and I was wellnigh crazy with excitementand nervousness, fearing that I had made some mistake, and they couldsay I shirked the meeting. But just about eleven a man came in, wholooked closely at me, said 'Captain Amory?' and handed me a note.There's the note, Mr. Brandon; read it."

  Read it I did. It was as follows:

  "LIEUTENANT F. AMORY, U.S.A.:

  "SIR,--In some way for which _we_ find it impossible to account, the authorities have got wind of our affair, and threatened me with arrest; but I learn from a friend that you are at the Cosmopolitan unattended. The gentlemen who were present at the time of your outrageous affront this afternoon were total strangers to me, with one exception, but I cannot believe that they have betrayed me to the police.

  "As an officer you must be aware that there can be only one reparation for a blow, and, if a gentleman, you cannot refuse it. You said you would meet me any time and any place, and I hold you to your word. I demand instant satisfaction, before the police can interfere, and there is one place where, if alone, we can be sure of quiet. That is a shooting- and fencing-gallery on the shell road, where there is a room where gentlemen can settle such affairs with swords, and where every attention is paid and inviolable secrecy observed.

  "Leaving my friend here with the policeman who is watching our rooms, I shall slip out by the back way and go out on horseback. If you are a man of honor you will follow. Keep on out Canal Street to the end, cross the canal on the bridge, and then turn to the south. I will watch for your horse and conduct you to the spot. The bearer of this will bring a verbal answer, all that is necessary. Reminding you once more of the outrage you have committed upon a gentleman, and of your promise to render full satisfaction at such time and place as I should demand, I am, with due respect,

  "Yours, etc.,

  "EDWARD HARROD PEYTON."

  I read it through twice before speaking, Amory narrowly watching myface.

  "And do you mean to tell me, Frank Amory, that you could be led into asnare by such a transparent piece of rascality as that?" I asked atlast.

  "How should I know?" said Amory, flushing. "The letter _reads_ straightenough. The barbers or somebody might have told the police, and I knewonly that Mr. Peyton was a relative of gentlemen and supposed him to bea gentleman. Of course I went."

  "All the young scoundrel wanted was to get you there alone and unarmed,and then turn you over to that great bully he had for a terriblebeating. _He_ would never dare fight you fairly. This thing is a fraudon its face; no Southern gentleman would ask such a thing of a strangeras a midnight meeting without seconds in an unknown spot. Why, Amory, itis absurd, and as I tell you, and as their talk proved, he only wantedto lure you there and see you brutally pounded and mutilated. Thescoundrel knew he must leave town at once, and, hating you, he wantedthis low revenge first."

  "Why should he hate me?" asked Amory.

  "Because of your fight with those villains of Hank Smith's lastDecember, for one thing. He was hand in glove with them all. Becauseof--well, another reason occurs to me that need not be spoken of justnow. I ought not to let you talk so much as it is. Tell me one thing,however. You are anxious to go North, the doctor says. Can I serve youin any way?"

  Amory hesitated. "Mother is very anxious that I should come, ifpossible," he faltered; "and she is right. There--there are reasons whyI ought to go and settle a matter that has given me much distress. Itold her of it, and she writes that only one course is open to me." Andthe deep dejection and trouble in his face upset me completely.

  "Youngster," said I, impulsively. "Forgive me if I appear to intrude inyour affairs, but you have become very near to me, if you know what Imean, in the last few months. We have learned to regard you as somethingmore than a friend, the Summers' and I, and lately it seems to me thatan inkling of your trouble has been made known to me (who _would_ havesaid, 'I have been prying into your affairs?')--and--Frank, don't worryif it is about Bella Grayson. She is my own niece,--you may notknow,--and I had a letter from her the other day."

  Amory almost started up in bed (capital nurse Mr. G. S. Brandon wouldmake for a fever patient ordinarily, you are probably thinking), butthough his eyes were full of eager inquiry and astonishment, he chokedback the question that seemed to rise to his lips and simply stared atme, then with flushing cheeks turned quickly away.

  "I cannot explain just now; try and be content with what I tell you fora day or two," I went on. "You can hear more when you are better. Onething I want to ask you for the benefit of the detectives who arelooking for Peyton. How do you suppose you were so fortunate as toescape missing him and the other blackguard? We found them just belowthe bridge to the right."

  "I don't know," was the weary reply. "Things were all in a whirl after Igot that note. I remember telling that fellow to say that I would bethere without fail. Then it took some time to hurry up here and get myhorse, and to write a line to mother; then I did not go straight outCanal Street. There were one or two things that had to be done; but Irode like the devil to get there, and there wasn't a soul that I couldsee any
where around the far end of the bridge."

  "But didn't you go down towards the lake,--to the right hand, I mean?"

  "To the right? No, of course not," said Amory. "He said to the south;look at the note again and you'll find it; and I had that little compassthere on my watch-chain. South was to the left, man, and,--why, it seemsto me I rode all night; found myself in town and rode back to theswamps; then gave it up and came home somehow; I don't know. It was alla blur."

  Then, fortunately, the doctor came back, and, with one glance at Amory'sface, motioned to me that enough or more than enough had been said. Ibent over Amory and said, with the best intentions in the world of beingreassuring, "Remember, do not fret about going North or about anythingelse of that kind; _that_ is coming out all right." And with theprofound conviction that it _was_ coming out all right through hisministration, the recorder of this curious tangle took his leave.