The Purple Parasol

busy. He can't take vacations. Everybody went to bedearly to-night. No evidence to-day."

  FRIDAY NIGHT.

  "Havens and Mrs. W. went hill-climbing this afternoon and were gone foran hour before I missed them. Then I took Aunt Jo and Debby out for aquick climb. Confound Aunt Jo! She got tired in ten minutes and Debbywouldn't go on without her. I think it was a put-up job. The others didn'treturn till after six. She asked me if I'd like to walk about the groundsafter dinner. Said I would. We did. Havens went with us. Couldn't shakehim to save my life."

  SATURDAY NIGHT.

  "I have to watch myself constantly to keep from calling her Mrs. Wharton.I believe writing her real name is bad policy. It makes me forget. Afterthis I shall call her Miss Dering, and I'll speak of him as Dudley. Thismorning he asked me to call him 'Jim.' He calls me 'Sam.' Actors do getfamiliar. When she came downstairs to go driving with him this morningI'll swear she was the prettiest thing I ever saw. They took a lunch andwere gone for hours. I'd like to punch his face. She was very quiet allevening, and I fancied she avoided me. I smelt liquor on his breath justbefore bedtime.

  "_One A. M._--I thought everybody had gone to bed, but they are outthere on the veranda talking. Just outside her windows. I distinctly heardhim call her 'dearest.' Something must have alarmed them, for they partedabruptly. He walked the veranda for an hour, all alone. Plenty ofevidence."

  SUNDAY NIGHT.

  "For appearance's sake he took Miss Crozier for a walk to-day. I went tothe chapel down the hill with Miss Dering and Aunt Josephine. AuntJosephine put a ten-dollar bill in the box. Thinks she's squaring herselfwith the Lord, I suppose. Miss Dering was not at all talkative and gaveevery sign of being uncomfortable because he had the audacity to gowalking with another girl. In the afternoon she complained of being illand went to her room. Later on she sent for Dudley and Mrs. Van Haltford.They were in her room all afternoon. I smoked on the terrace with Debby.She is the most uninteresting girl I ever met. But she's on to their game.I know it because she forgot herself once, when I mentioned Miss Dering'sillness, and said: 'Poor girl! She is in a most trying position. Don't youthink Mr. Dudley is a splendid fellow?' I said that he was verygood-looking, and she seemed to realize she had said something she oughtnot to have said and shut up. I'm sorry she's sick, though. I miss thatparasol dreadfully. She always has it, and I can see her a mile away.Usually he carries it, though. Well, I suppose he has a right--as originalowner. Jim and I smoked together this evening, but he evidently smells amouse. He did not talk much, and I caught him eying me strangely severaltimes."

  MONDAY NIGHT.

  "Dudley has departed. I believe they are on to me. He went to Boston thisafternoon, and he actually was gruff with me just before leaving. The sizeof the matter is, some one has posted him, and they are all up to my gameas a spy. I wish I were out of it. Never was so ashamed of a thing in mylife; don't feel like looking any one in the face. They've all been niceto me. But what's the difference? They're all interested. She went to thetrain with him and--the rest of us. I'll never forget how sad she lookedas she held his hand and bade him good-by. I carried the parasol back tothe hotel, and I know I hurt her feelings when I maliciously said that itwould look well with a deep black border. She almost looked a hole throughme. Fine eyes. I don't know what is coming next. She is liable to slip outfrom under my eye at any time and fly away to meet him somewhere else. Itelegraphed this message to Grover & Dickhut:

  "He has gone. She still here. What shall I do?

  "Got this answer:

  "Stay there and watch. They suspect you. Don't let her get away.

  "But how the devil am I to watch day and night?"

  The next week was rather an uneventful one for Rossiter. There was nosign of Havens and no effort on her part to leave Eagle Nest.

  As the days went by he became more and more vigilant. In fact, his watchwas incessant and very much of a personal one. He walked and drove withher, and he invented all sorts of excuses to avoid Mrs. Van Haltford andMiss Crozier. The purple parasol and he had become almost inseparablefriends. The fear that Havens might return at any time kept him in a feverof anxiety and dread. Now that he was beginning to know her for himself hecould not endure the thought that she cared for another man. Strange tosay, he did not think of her husband. Old Wharton had completely fadedfrom his mind; it was Havens that he envied. He saw himself sinking intoher net, falling before her wiles, but he did not rebel.

  He went to bed each night apprehensive that the next morning should findhim alone and desolate at Eagle Nest, the bird flown. It hurt him to thinkthat she would laugh over her feat of outwitting him. He was not guardingher for old Wharton now; he was in his own employ. All this time he knewit was wrong, and that she was trifling with him while the other was away.Yet he had eyes, ears, and a heart like all men, and they were for nonesave the pretty wife of Godfrey Wharton.

  He spoke to her on several occasions of Dudley and gnashed his teeth whenhe saw a look of sadness, even longing, come into her dark eyes. At suchtimes he was tempted to tell her that he knew all, to confound her bycharging her with guilt. But he could not collect the courage. For someunaccountable reason he held his bitter tongue. And so it was thathandsome Sam Rossiter, spy and good fellow, fell in love with a woman whohad a very dark page in her history.

  She received mail, of course, daily, but he was not sneak enough to pryinto its secrets, even had the chance presented itself. Sometimes shetossed the letters away carelessly, but he observed that there were somewhich she guarded jealously.

  Once he heard her tell Aunt Josephine that she had a letter from "Jim."He began to discover that "Jim" was a forbidden subject and that he wasnot discussed; at least, not in his presence. Many times he saw the twowomen in earnest, rather cautious conversation, and instinctively feltthat Havens was the subject. Mrs. Wharton appeared piqued and discontentedafter these little talks. He made this entry in his diary one night, aweek after Havens went away:

  "I almost wish he'd come back and end the suspense. This thing is wearingon me. I was weighed to-day and I've lost ten pounds. Mrs. Van Haltfordsays I look hungry and advises me to try salt-water air. I'm hanged if Idon't give up the job this week. I don't like it, anyhow. It doesn't seemsquare to be down here enjoying her society, taking her walking and allthat, and all the time hunting up something with which to ruin herforever. I'll stick the week out, but I'm not decided whether I'll produceany evidence against her if the Wharton _vs._ Wharton case ever doescome to trial. I don't believe I could. I don't want to be a sneak."

  One day Rossiter and the purple parasol escorted the pretty trifler overthe valley to Bald Top, half a mile from the hotel. Mrs. Van Haltford andMiss Crozier were to join them later and were to bring with them ColonelDeming and Mr. Vincent, two friends who had lately arrived. The hotel wasrapidly filling with fashionable guests, and Mrs. Wharton had petulantlyobserved, a day or two before, that the place was getting crowded and shebelieved she would go away soon. On the way over she said to him:

  "I have about decided to go down to Velvet Springs for the rest of themonth. Don't you think it is getting rather crowded here?"

  "I have been pretty well satisfied," he replied, in an injured tone. "Idon't see why you should want to leave here."

  "Why should I stay if I am tired of the place?" she asked demurely,casting a roguish glance at his sombre face. He clenched the parasol andgrated his teeth.

  "She's leading me on, confound her!" he thought. At the same time hishead whirled and his heart beat a little faster. "You shouldn't," he said,"if you are tired. There's more of an attraction at Velvet Springs, Isuppose."

  "Have you been there?"

  "No."

  "You answered rather snappishly. Have you a headache?"

  "Pardon me; I didn't intend to answer snappishly, as you call it. I onlywanted to be brief."

  "Why?"

  "Because I wanted to change the subject."

  "Shall we talk of the weather?"

  "I suppose we may as we
ll," he said resignedly. She was plainly laughingat him now. "Look here," he said, stopping and looking into her eyesintently and somewhat fiercely, "why do you want to go to Velvet Springs?"

  "Why should you care where I go?" she answered blithely, although hereyes wavered.

  "It's because you are unhappy here and because some one else is there.I'm not blind, Mrs.--Miss Dering."

  "You have no right to talk to me in that manner, Mr. Rollins. Come, weare to go back to the hotel at once," she said coldly. There was steel inher eyes.

  He met her contemptuous look for a moment and quailed.

  "I beg your pardon. I am a fool, but you have made me such," he saidbaldly.

  "I? I do not understand you," and he could not but admire the clever,innocent, widespread eyes.

  "You will understand me some day," he said, and to his amazement sheflushed and looked away. They continued their walk, but there was astrange shyness in her manner that puzzled him.

  "When is Dudley expected back here?" he asked abruptly.

  She started sharply and gave him a quick, searching look. There was aguilty expression in her eyes, and he muttered something ugly under hisbreath.

  "I do not know, Mr. Rollins," she answered.

  "When did you hear from him last?" he demanded half savagely.

  "I do not intend to be catechized by you, sir," she exclaimed, haltingabruptly. "We shall go back. You are very ugly to-day and I am surprised."

  "I supposed you had letters from him every day," he went on ruthlessly.She gave him a look in which he saw pain and the shadow of tears, and thenshe turned and walked swiftly toward the hotel. His conscience smote himand he turned after her. For the next ten minutes he was on his knees,figuratively, pleading for forgiveness. At last she paused and smiledsweetly into his face. Then she calmly turned and resumed the journey toBald Top, saying demurely:

  "We have nearly a quarter of a mile to retrace, all because you were sohateful."

  "And you so obdurate," he added blissfully. He had tried to be severe andangry with her and had failed.

  That very night the expected came to pass. Havens appeared on the scene,the same handsome, tragic-looking fellow, a trifle care-worn perhaps, butstill--an evil genius. Rossiter ran plump into him in the hallway and wasspeechless for a moment. He unconsciously shook hands with the newarrival, but his ears were ringing so with the thuds of his heart that heheard but few of the brisk words addressed to him. After the eager actorhad left him standing humbly in the hall he managed to recall part of whathad been said. He had come up on the express from Boston and could staybut a day or two. Did Mr. Rossiter know whether Miss Dering was in herroom? The barrister also distinctly remembered that he did not ask for hisaunt, which would have been the perfectly natural query.

  Half an hour later Havens was strolling about the grounds, under the lamplights, in and out of dark nooks, and close beside him was a slim figurein white. Their conversation was earnest, their manner secretive; thatmuch the harassed Rossiter could see from the balcony. His heart grew soreand he could almost feel the tears of disappointment surging to his eyes.A glance in his mirror had shown him a face haggard and drawn, eyesstrange and bright. He had not slept well, he knew; he had worn himselfout in this despicable watch; he had grown to care for the creature he hadbeen hired to spy upon. No wonder he was haggard.

  Now he was jealous--madly, fiendishly jealous. In his heart there was thesavage desire to kill the other man and to denounce the woman. Pacing thegrounds about the hotel, he soon worked himself into a fever, devilish inits hotness. More than once he passed them, and it was all he could do torefrain from springing upon them. At length he did what most men do: hetook a drink. Whisky flew down his throat and to his brain. In his mind'seye he saw her in the other's arms--and he could bear it no longer!Rushing to his room, he threw himself on the bed and cursed.

  "Good heaven! I love her! I love her better than all the world! I can'tstay here and see any more of it! By thunder, I'll go back to New York andthey can go to the devil! So can old Wharton! And so can Grover & Dickhut!"

  He leaped to his feet, dashed headlong to the telegraph officedownstairs, and ten minutes later this message was flying to Grover &Dickhut:

  Get some one else for this job. I'm done with it. Coming home.--SAM.

  "I'm coming on the first train, too," muttered the sender, as he hurriedup-stairs. "I can pack my trunk for the night stage. I'd like to saygood-by to her, but I can't--I couldn't stand it. What's the difference?She won't care whether I go or stay--rather have me go. If I were to meether now I'd--yes, by George--kiss her! It's wrong to love her, but--"

  There was nothing dignified about the manner in which big Sam Rossiterpacked his trunk. He fairly stamped the clothing into it and did a lot ofother absurd things. When he finally locked it and yanked out his watchhis brow was wet and he was trembling. It had taken just five minutes todo the packing. His hat was on the back of his head, his collar wasmelting, and his cigar was chewed to a pulp. Cane and umbrella were yankedfrom behind the door and he was ready to fly. The umbrella made him thinkof a certain parasol, and his heart grew still and cold with the knowledgethat he was never to carry it again.

  "I hope I don't meet any of 'em," he muttered, pulling himself togetherand rushing into the hall. A porter had already jerked his trunk down thestair steps.

  As he hastened after it he heard the swish of skirts and detected in theair a familiar odor, the subtle scent of a perfume that he could notforget were he to live a thousand years. The next moment she came swiftlyaround a corner in the hall, hurrying to her rooms. They met and bothstarted in surprise, her eyes falling to his travelling-bag, and thenlifting to his face in bewilderment. He checked his hurried flight and shecame quite close to him. The lights in the hall were dim and the elevatorcar had dropped to regions below.

  "Where are you going?" she asked in some agitation.

  "I am going back to New York," he answered, controlling himself with aneffort. She was so beautiful, there in the dim hallway.

  "To-night?" she asked in very low tones.

  "In half an hour."

  "And were you going without saying good-by to--to us?" she went on rapidly.

  He looked steadily down into her solemn eyes for a moment and anexpression of pain, of longing, came into his own.

  "It couldn't make any difference whether I said good-by to you, and itwould have been hard," he replied unsteadily.

  "Hard? I don't understand you," she said.

  "I didn't want to see you. Yes, I hoped to get away before you knewanything about it. Maybe it was cowardly, but it was the best way," hecried bitterly.

  "What do you mean?" she cried, and he detected alarm, confusion, guilt inher manner.

  "You know what I mean. I know everything--I knew it before I came here,before I saw you. It's why I am here, I'm ashamed to say. But, have nofear--have no fear! I've given up the job--the nasty job--and you can doas you please. The only trouble is that I have been caught in the web;I've been trapped myself. You've made me care for you. That's why I'mgiving it all up. Don't look so frightened--I'll promise to keep yoursecret."

  Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, but no words came; she seemed toshrink from him as if he were the headsman and she his victim.

  "I'll do it, right or wrong!" he gasped suddenly. And in an instant hissatchel clattered to the floor and his arms were straining the slightfigure to his breast. Burning lips met hers and sealed them tight. Sheshivered violently, struggled for an instant in his mad embrace, but madeno outcry. Gradually her free arm stole upward and around his neck and herlips responded to the passion in his. His kiss of ecstasy was returned.The thrill of joy that shot through him was almost overpowering. A dozentimes he kissed her. Unbelieving, he held her from him and looked hungrilyinto her eyes. They were wet with tears.

  "Why do you go? I love you!" she whispered faintly.

  Then came the revulsion. With an oath he threw her from him. Her handswent to her temples and a moa
n escaped her lips.

  "Bah!" he snarled. "Get away from me! Heaven forgive me for being as weakas I've been to-night!"

  "Sam!" she wailed piteously.

  "Don't tell me anything! Don't try to explain! Be honest with one man, atleast!"

  "You must be insane!" she cried tremulously.

  "Don't play innocent, madam. I _know_." In abject terror she shrankaway from him. "But I have kissed you! If I live a thousand years I shallnot forget its sweetness."

  He waved his hands frantically above her, grabbed up his suit-case andtraps, and, with one last look at the petrified woman shrinking againstthe wall under the blasts of his vituperation, he dashed for the stairway.And so he left her, a forlorn, crushed figure.

  Blindly he tore downstairs and to the counter. He hardly knew what he wasdoing as he drew forth his pocket-book to pay his account.

  "Going away, Mr. Rollins?" inquired the clerk, glancing at the clock. Itwas eleven-twenty and the last stage-coach left for Fossingford ateleven-thirty, in time to catch the seven o'clock down train.

  "Certainly," was the excited answer.

  "A telegram came a few moments ago for you, sir, but I thought you werein bed," and the other tossed a little envelope out to him. MechanicallyRossiter