CHAPTER XXIII.
A SURPRISE AT THE GRAND CENTRAL STATION.
"Will you help me?" Edith eagerly inquired, turning to her companion,who had regarded her wonderingly while she repudiated the costly giftswhich Emil Correlli had showered upon her.
"How can I help you, lady?" Giulia inquired, with a look of surprise.
"Call me Edith--I am only a poor, friendless girl, like yourself," shegently returned. "But I want to go away from this house immediately--Imust get out of it unobserved; then I can catch a train that leavesBoston at three o'clock, for New York."
"Ah! you wish to run away from Emil!" exclaimed Giulia, her facelighting with eagerness.
"Yes--I would never own myself his wife for a single hour. I wasplanning, when you came in, to get away to-night when the house wasquiet; but doubtless they would lock my door if I continued to beobstinate, and it would be a great deal better for me, every way, if Icould go now," Edith explained.
"Yes, I will help you--I will do anything you wish," said Giulia,heartily.
"Then come!" exclaimed Edith, excitedly, "I want you to go down tohim; he is in one of the rooms below--in the library, I think--a roomunder the one opposite this. He will be so astonished by yourunexpected visit that he will be thrown off his guard, and you mustmanage to occupy his attention until you are sure I am well out of thehouse--which will be in less than ten minutes after you are in hispresence--and then I shall have nothing more to fear from him."
"I will do it," said the Italian girl, rising, a look of resolve onher handsome but care-lined face.
"Thank you! thank you!" returned Edith, earnestly. "I am goingstraight to New York, to friends; but of course, you will not betraymy plans."
"No, indeed; but do you think your friends can help you break withEmil--do you believe that ceremony can be canceled?" breathlesslyinquired Giulia.
"I hope so," Edith gravely answered; "at all events, if I can but onceput myself under the protection of my friends, I shall no longer fearhim. I shall then try to have the marriage annulled. Perhaps, when herealizes how determined I am, he may even be willing to submit to it."
"Oh, do you think so?--do you think so?" cried Giulia, tremulously,and with hopeful eagerness.
"I will hope so," replied Edith, gravely, "and I will also hope that Imay be able to do something to make you and this dear child happy oncemore. What a sweet little fellow he is!" she concluded, as she leanedforward and kissed him softly on the cheek, an act which brought thequick tears to his mother's eyes.
Again she seized the girl's delicate hand and carried it to her lips.
"Ah, to think! An hour ago I hated you!--now I worship you!" shecried, in an impassioned tone, a sob bursting from her trembling lips.
"You must go," said Edith, advancing to the door, and softly openingit. "I have no time to lose if I am to catch my train. Remember, theroom under the one opposite this--you will easily find it. Nowgood-by, and Heaven bless you both."
With a look of deepest gratitude and veneration, Giulia Fiorini, herchild clasped in her arms, passed out of the room and moved swiftlytoward the grand staircase leading to the lower part of the house;while Edith, closing and locking the door after her, stood listeninguntil she should reach the library, where she was sure Emil Correllisat reading.
She heard the sweep of the girl's robes upon the stairs; then, amoment later, a stifled exclamation of mingled surprise and anger fellupon her ears, after which the library door was hastily shut, andEdith began to breathe more freely.
She hastened to put on her jacket, preparatory to leaving the house.But an instant afterward her heart leaped into her throat, as shecaught the sound of the hurried opening and shutting of the librarydoor again.
Then there came swift steps over the stairs.
Edith knew that Emil Correlli was coming to ascertain if she were safewithin her room; that he feared if Giulia had succeeded in gaining anentrance there, without being discovered, she might possibly haveescaped in the same way.
She moved noiselessly across the room toward the dressing-case andopened a drawer, just as there came a knock on her door.
"Is that you, Mrs. Goddard?" Edith questioned, in her usual tone ofvoice, though her heart was beating with great, frightened throbs.
"No; it is I," responded Emil Correlli. "I wish to speak with you amoment, Edith."
"You must excuse me just now, Mr. Correlli," the girl replied, as sherattled the stopper to one of the perfumery bottles on thedressing-case; "I am dressing, and cannot see any one just atpresent."
"Oh!" returned the voice from without, in a modified tone, as if theman were intensely relieved by her reply. "I beg your pardon; but whencan I see you--how long will it take you to finish dressing?"
Edith glanced at the clock, and a little smile of triumph curled herlips, for she saw that the hands pointed to half-past two.
"Not more than fifteen or twenty minutes, perhaps," she returned.
"Ah, you are relenting!" said the man, eagerly. "You will come down byand by--you will dine with us this evening, Edith?" he concluded, inan appealing tone.
There was again a moment of hesitation on Edith's part, as if she weredebating the question with herself; but if he could have seen hereyes, he would have been appalled by the look of fire and loathingthat blazed in them.
"Mr. Correlli," she said at last, in a tone which he interpreted asone of timid concession, "I--I wish to do what is right and--I thinkperhaps I will come down as soon as I finish dressing."
His face lighted and flushed with triumph.
He believed that she was yielding--won over by the munificent giftswith which he had crowded her room.
"Ah! thank you! thank you!" he responded, with delight. "But take yourown time, dear, and make yourself just as beautiful as possible, and Iwill come up for you in the course of half an hour."
He flattered himself that he would be well rid of Giulia by that time;and having assured himself that Edith was safe in her room, and, as hebelieved, gradually submitting to his terms, he retraced his stepsdownstairs, the cruel lines about his mouth hardening as he went, forhe had resolved to cast off forever the girl who had become nothingbut a burden and an annoyance to him.
Edith did not move until she heard him enter the library again andclose the door after him.
Then, hurriedly buttoning her jacket and pinning on her hat, she tookfrom her trunk the package which she had made up an hour before, stolesoftly from her room and down the back stairs to the area hall.
The outer door was closed and bolted--the gas-man having long sincefinished his errand and departed--and she could hear the cook and oneof the maids conversing in the kitchen just across the hall.
Evidently no one had attempted to go upstairs since Giulia's entrance,consequently the key had not yet been missed nor the door discoveredto be unlocked.
Cautiously slipping the bolt to the street door, Edith quickly passedout, closing it noiselessly after her.
Another moment she was in the street, speeding with swift, light stepsacross the park.
Then, bending her course through Dartmouth street, she came to anarrow, crooked way called Buckingham street, which led her directlyout upon Columbus avenue, when, turning to the left, she soon came tothe station known by the same name.
Here she had ten minutes to wait, after purchasing her ticket, and theuneasiness with which she watched the slowly moving hands upon theclock in the gloomy waiting-room may be imagined.
Her waiting was over at last, and, exactly on time, the train camethundering to the station.
Edith quickly boarded it, then sank weak and trembling upon thenearest empty seat, her heart beating so rapidly that she panted withevery breath.
Then the train began to move, and, with a prayer of thankfulness overher escape, the excited girl leaned back against the cushion and gaveherself up to rest, knowing that she could not now be overtaken beforearriving in New York.
This feeling of security did not last long, howev
er, and she wasfilled with dismay as she thought that Emil Correlli would doubtlessdiscover her flight in the course of half an hour, if he had notalready done so, when he would probably surmise that she would goimmediately to New York and so telegraph to have her arrested upon herarrival there.
This was a difficulty which she had not foreseen.
What should she do?--how could she circumvent him? how protect herselfand defy his authority over her?
A bright idea flashed into her mind.
She would telegraph to Royal Bryant at the first stop made by thetrain, ask him to meet her upon her arrival, and thus secure hisprotection against any plot that Emil Correlli might lay for her.
The first stopping-place she knew was Framingham, a small town abouttwenty miles from Boston.
The first time the conductor came through the car she asked him for aWestern Union slip, when she wrote the following message and addressedit to Royal Bryant's office on Broadway:
"Shall arrive at Grand Central Station, via. B. & A. R. R., at nine o'clock. Do not fail to meet me. Important.
"EDITH ALLANDALE."
When the conductor came back again, she gave this to him, with thenecessary money, and asked if he would kindly forward it fromFramingham for her.
He cheerfully promised to do so. Then, feeling greatly relieved, Edithsettled herself contentedly for a nap, for she was very weary andheavy-eyed from the long strain upon her nerves and lack of sleep.
She did not wake for more than three hours, when she found thatdaylight had faded, and that the lamps had been lighted in the car.
At New Haven she obtained a light lunch from a boy who was crying hisviands through the train, and when her hunger was satisfied shestraightened her hat and drew on her gloves, knowing that another twohours would bring her to her destination.
Then she began to speculate upon possible and impossible things, andto grow very anxious regarding her safety upon her arrival in NewYork.
Perhaps Royal Bryant had not received her message.
He might have left his office before it arrived; maybe the officialsat Framingham had even neglected to send it; or Mr. Bryant might havebeen out of town.
What could she do if, upon alighting from the train, some burlypoliceman should step up to her and claim her as his prisoner?
She had thus worked herself up to a very nervous and excited state bythe time the lights of the great metropolis could be seen in thedistance; her face grew flushed and feverish, her eyes were like twopoints of light, her temples throbbed, her pulses leaped, and herheart beat with great, frightened throbs.
The train had to make a short stop where one road crossed another justbefore entering the city, and the poor girl actually grew faint anddizzy with the fear that an officer might perhaps board the train atthat point.
Almost as the thought flashed through her brain, the car door openedand a man entered, when a thrill of pain went quivering through everynerve, prickling to her very finger-tips.
A second glance showed her that it was a familiar form, and she almostcried out with joy as she recognized Royal Bryant and realized thatshe was--safe!
He saw her immediately and went directly to her, his gleaming eyestelling a story from his heart which instantly sent the rich color toher brow.
"Miss Allandale!" he exclaimed, in a low, eager tone, as he claspedher outstretched hand. "I am more than glad to see you once again."
"Then you received my telegram," she said, with a sigh of relief.
"Yes, else I should not be here," he smilingly returned; "but I camevery near missing it. I was just on the point of leaving the officewhen the messenger-boy brought it in. I suppose our advertisement isto be thanked for your appearance in New York thus opportunely."
"Not wholly," Edith returned, with some embarrassment. "If it had beenthat alone which called me here, I need not have telegraphed you. Isaw it only yesterday; but my chief reason for coming hither is that Iam a fugitive."
"A fugitive!" repeated her companion, in surprise. "Ah, yes, Iwondered a little over that word 'important' in your message. Itstrikes me," he added, smiling significantly down upon her, "that youleft New York in very much the same manner." "Yes," she faltered,flushing rosily.
"From whom and what were you fleeing, Edith? Surely not from one whowould have been only too glad to shield you from every ill?" said theyoung man, in a tenderly reproachful tone, the import of which therewas no mistaking.
She shot one swift glance into his face and saw that his eyes wereluminous with the great love that was throbbing in his manly heart,and with an inward start of exceeding joy she dropped her lids again,but not before he had read in the look and the tell-tale flush thatflooded cheek, brow, and neck, that his affection was returned.
"I will forgive you, dear, if you will be kind to me in the future,"he whispered, taking courage from her sweet shyness and bashfulness."And now tell me why you are a fugitive from Boston, for your telegramwas dated from that city."
Thus recalled to herself, and a realization of her cruel situation,Edith shivered, and a deadly paleness banished the rosy blushes fromher cheeks.
"I will," she murmured, "I will tell you all about the dreadful thingsthat have happened to me; but not here," she added, with an anxiousglance around. "Will you take me to some place where I shall be safe?"she continued, appealingly. "I have no place to go unless it is tosome hotel, and I shrink from a public house."
"My child, why are you trembling so?" the young man inquired, as hesaw she was shaking from head to foot. "I am very glad," he added,"that I was inspired to board the train at the crossing, and thus cangive you my protection in the confusion of your arrival."
"I am glad, too; it was very thoughtful of you," said Edith,appreciatively; "but--but I am also going to need your help again in alegal way."
He started slightly at this; but replied, cheerfully:
"You shall have it; I am ready to throw myself heart and hand betweenyou and any trouble of whatever nature. Now about a safe place for youto stay while you are in the city. I have a married cousin who liveson West Fortieth street; we are the best of friends and she willgladly entertain you at my request, until you can make otherarrangements."
"But to intrude upon an entire stranger--" began Edith, lookinggreatly disturbed.
"Nellie will not seem like a stranger to you, two minutes after youhave been introduced to her," the young man smilingly returned. "Sheis the dearest, sweetest little cousin a man ever had, and she has anequal admiration for your humble servant. She will thank me forbringing you to her, and I am sure that you will be happy with her.But why do you start so?--why are you so nervous?" he concluded, asshe sprang from her seat, when the train stopped, and looked wildlyabout her.
"I am afraid," she gasped.
"Afraid of what?" he urged, with gentle persistence.
"Of a man who has been persecuting me," she panted, the look ofanxious fear still in her eyes. "I ran away from him to-day, and Ihave been afraid, all the way to New York, that he would telegraphahead of the train, and have me stopped--that was why I sent themessage to you."
"I am very glad you did," said the young man, gravely. "But, Edith,pray do not look so terrified; you are sure to attract attention withthat expression on your face. Calm yourself and trust me," heconcluded, as he took her hand and laid it upon his arm.
"I do--I will," she said; but her fingers closed over his with aspasmodic clasp which told him how thoroughly wrought up she was.
"Have you a trunk?" he inquired, as they moved toward the door, thetrain having now entered the Grand Central Station.
"No; I left everything but a few necessary articles--I can send for itlater by express," she responded.
The young man assisted her from the train, then replacing her handupon his arm, was about to signal for a carriage when they weresuddenly confronted by a policeman and brought to a halt in the mostsummary manner.
"Sorry to trouble you, sir,
" said the man, speaking in a business-liketone to Mr. Bryant, "but I have orders to take this lady intocustody."