The Masked Bridal

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  AN EXCITING INTERVIEW AND AN APPALLING DISCOVERY.

  We must now transport ourselves to Boston, in order to find out howEdith's flight was discovered, and what effect it produced in theGoddards' elegant home on Commonwealth avenue.

  Emil Correlli had been seated in the handsome library, reading asociety novel, when his sister went out to make her call, leaving himas guard over their prisoner above.

  He had been much pleased with the report which she brought him fromEdith, namely, that she believed she was yielding, and would make herappearance at dinner; at the same time he did not allow himself for amoment to become so absorbed in his book as to forget that he was onthe watch for the slightest movement above stairs.

  He and Mrs. Goddard had agreed that it would be wise not to make thegirl a prisoner within her room, lest they antagonize her by so doing.

  But while they appeared to leave her free to go out or come in, theyintended to guard her none the less securely, and thus MonsieurCorrelli kept watch and ward below.

  He knew that Edith could not leave the house by the front door withouthis knowing it, and as he also knew that the back stairway door waslocked on the outside, he had no fear that she would escape that way.

  He, had not reckoned, however, upon the fact of an outsider enteringby means of the area door and going upstairs, thus leaving that wayavailable for Edith; and Giulia Fiorini had accomplished her purposeso cleverly and so noiselessly that no one save Edith dreamed of herpresence in the house.

  The two girls had carried on their conversation in such subdued tonesthat not a sound could be heard by any one below, and thus EmilCorrelli was taken entirely by surprise when there came a gentle knockupon the half-open library door to interrupt his reading.

  "Come in," he called out, thinking it might be one of the servants.

  But when the door was pushed wider, and a woman entered, bearing achild in her arms, the astonished man sprang to his feet, an angryoath leaping to his lips, and every atom of color fading out of hisface.

  "Giulia?" he exclaimed, under his breath.

  "Papa! papa!" cried the child, clapping his little hands, as hestruggled out of his mother's arms, and ran toward him.

  He took no notice of the child, but frowningly demanded, as he facedthe girl:

  "How on earth did you ever get into this house?"

  "By a door, of course," laconically responded the intruder, but withcrimson cheeks and blazing eyes, for the man's rude manner had arousedall her spirit.

  "Well, and what do you want?" he cried, angrily; then, with a violentstart, he added, nervously: "Wait; sit down, and I will be back in amoment."

  It had occurred to him that if Giulia had been able to gain admittanceto the house without his hearing her, Edith might find it just as easyto make her escape from it.

  So, darting out of the room, he ran swiftly upstairs, to ascertain, aswe have seen, if his captive was still safe.

  We know the result, and how adroitly Edith allayed his suspicions;whereupon, wholly reassured regarding her, he returned to the libraryto settle, once for all, as he secretly resolved, with his discardedplaything.

  "Well, Giulia," he began, as he re-entered her presence, "what hasbrought you here? what is your business with me?"

  "I have come to ascertain if this is true, and what you have to sayabout it," she answered, as she brought forth the newspaper which shehad shown Edith, and pointed to the article relating to the wedding atWyoming.

  The man tried to smile indifferently, but his eyes wavered beneath herblazing glance.

  "Well, what of it?" he at last questioned, assuming a defiant air;"what if it is true?"

  "Is it true?" she persisted; "have you really married that girl?"

  "And what if I have?" he again questioned, evasively.

  "I want the truth from your own lips--yes or no, Emil Correlli."

  "Well, then--yes," he said, with a flash of anger.

  "You own it--you dare own it to me, and--in the presence of yourchild?" almost shrieked the outraged woman.

  "Stop, Giulia!" commanded her companion, sternly. "I will have noscene here to create a scandal among the servants. I intended to seeyou within a day or two; but, since you have sought me, we may as wellat once come to an understanding. Did you think that you could hold meall my life? A man in my position must have a home in which to receivehis friends, also a mistress in it to entertain them--"

  "Have you forgotten all your vows and promises to me?" interposedGiulia, in tremulous tones; "that you swore everlasting fidelity tome?"

  "A man vows a great many things that he finds he cannot fulfill," wasthe unfeeling response. "Surely, Giulia, you must realize that neitheryour birth nor education could entitle you to such a position as mywife must occupy."

  "My birth was respectable, my education the best my country afforded,"said the girl, with white lips. "Had you no intention of marrying mewhen you enticed me from my home to cross the ocean with you?"

  "No."

  The monosyllable seemed to fall like a heavy blow upon the girl'sheart, for she shivered, and her face was distorted with agony.

  "Oh, had you no heart? Why did you do such a fiendish thing?" shecried.

  "Because you were pretty and agreeable, and I liked pleasant company.I have been accustomed to have whatever I wished for all my life."

  "And you never loved me?"

  "Oh, yes, for nearly three years I was quite fond of you--really,Giulia, I consider that I have been as faithful to you as you couldexpect."

  "Oh, wretch! but you love this other girl more?"

  "It would be worse than useless to attempt to deceive you on thatpoint," said the man, his whole face softening at this mention ofEdith.

  "You lied to me, then, Emil Correlli!" cried the miserable woman,hoarsely; "you swore to me that the girl was nothing to you--that shewas simply your sister's companion."

  "And I simply told you the truth," he retorted. "She was nothing to meat that time; she was 'only my sister's companion.' However," headded, straightening himself haughtily, "there is no use in wranglingover the matter any further. I married Edith Allen the night beforelast, and henceforth she will be the mistress of my home. I confess itis a trifle hard on you, Giulia," he continued, speaking in aconciliatory tone, "but you must try to be sensible about it. I willsettle a comfortable annuity upon you, and you can either go back toyour parents or make a pleasant home for yourself somewhere in thiscountry."

  "And what of this boy?" questioned the discarded girl, laying hertrembling hand upon the head of her child, who was looking from one tothe other, a wondering expression on his young face.

  Emil Correlli's lips twitched spasmodically for a moment. He wouldnever have confessed it to a human being, but the little one was thedearest object the world held for him.

  "I will provide handsomely for his future," he said, after consideringfor a minute. "If you will give him up to me he shall be reared ascarefully as any gentleman's son, and, when he attains a proper age, Iwill establish him in some business or profession that will enable himto make his mark in the world."

  "You would take him away from me to do this?" Giulia exclaimed, as shepassionately caught her darling to her breast.

  "That would be necessary, in order to carry out my purpose as I wish,"the man coldly replied.

  "Never! You are a monster in human form to suggest such a thing. Doyou think I would ever give him up to you?"

  "Just as you choose," her companion remarked, indifferently. "I havemade you the proposition, and you can accept or reject it as you seefit, but if I take him, I cannot have his future hampered by anyenvironments or associations that would be likely to mar his life."

  "Coward!" the word was thrown at him in a way that stung him like alash, "do you dare twit me for what you alone are to blame? Where isyour honor--where your humanity? Have you forgotten how you used everyart to persuade me to leave the shelter of my pleasant home--theprotection of my honest father
and mother, to come hither with you?how you promised, by all that was sacred, to make me your wife if Iwould do your bidding? What I am you have made me--what this child is,you are responsible for. Ah, Emil Correlli, you have much to answerfor, and the day will yet come when you will bitterly repent theseirreparable wrongs--"

  "Come, come Giulia! you are getting beside yourself with your tragicairs," her companion here interposed, in a would-be soothing tone."There is no use working yourself up into a passion and running onlike this. What has been done is done, and cannot be changed, so youhad best make the most of what is left you. As I said before, I willgive you a handsome allowance, and, if you will keep me postedregarding your whereabouts, I will make you and the boy a little visitnow and then."

  The girl regarded him with flashing eyes and sullen brow.

  "You will live to repent," she remarked, as she gathered the child upin her arms and arose to leave the room, "and before this day is endedyour punishment shall begin; you shall never know one moment ofhappiness with the girl whom you have dared to put in my place."

  "Bah! all this is idle chatter, Giulia," said Emil Correlli,contemptuously; nevertheless, he paled visibly, and a cold chill ranover him, for somehow her words impressed him as a prophecy.

  "What! are you going in such a temper as that?" he added, as sheturned toward the door. "Well, when you get over it, let me hear fromyou occasionally."

  "Never fear; you will hear from me oftener than you will like," sheflashed out at him, with a look that made him cringe, as she laid herhand upon the knob of the door.

  "Stay, Giulia! Aren't you going to let me have a word with Ino? Here,you black-eyed little rascal, haven't you anything to say to yourdaddy?" he added, in a coaxing tone to the child.

  "Mamma, may I talk to papa?" queried the little one, turning apleading glance upon his mother.

  "By the way," interposed the man, before she could reply, "you mustput a stop to the youngster calling me that; it might be awkward, yousee, if we should happen to meet some time upon the street. I like thelittle chap well enough, but you must teach him to keep his mouth shutwhen he comes near me."

  "Who taught him the name?" sharply retorted Giulia. "Who boasted howbright and clever he was the first time he uttered the English word?"

  Her listener flushed hotly and frowned.

  "Your tongue is very sharp, Giulia," he said. "It would be more toyour advantage to be upon good terms with me."

  She made no reply, but, opening the door, passed out into the hall, hefollowing her.

  "As you will," he curtly said; then added, imperatively: "Come thisway," and, leading her to the front door, he let her quietly out, gladto be rid of her before the butler or any of the other servants couldlearn of her presence in the house.

  He watched her pass down the steps and out upon the street, then,softly closing the door, went back to the library.

  He threw himself into a chair with a long-drawn sigh.

  "I am afraid she means mischief," he muttered, with a frown. "I mustget Edith away as soon as possible; I would not have them meet foranything. What a little vixen the girl is, curse her!"

  He glanced at the clock.

  It was five minutes of three, and twenty-fire since he went up toEdith's room.

  "It is about time she came down," he mused, with a shrug ofimpatience.

  He arose and paced the room for a few moments, then passed out intothe hall and listened.

  The house was very still; he could not detect a sound anywhere.

  He went slowly upstairs, walked up and down the hall once or twice,then rapped again upon Edith's door.

  There was no response from within.

  He knocked again.

  Still silence!

  He tried the door.

  It was not locked; it yielded to his touch, and he pushed it open.

  A quick glance around showed him that no one was there, and with agreat heart-throb of fear he boldly entered.

  Everything was exactly as he had left it when, the day before, he hadso carefully arranged the room for the girl's comfort and pleasure.

  The beautiful dresses hung over the foot-board of the bed--not even afold had been disturbed--while the elegant sealskin cloak and thedainty hat and muff lay exactly as he had placed them, to display themto the best advantage.

  The veins swelled out hard and full on his forehead--a gleam ofbaffled rage leaped into his eyes.

  He sprang to the closet, throwing wide the door.

  It was empty.

  "She may have gone to the toilet-room," he muttered, grasping at thisstraw of hope.

  He dashed across the hall and rapped upon the door.

  But he met with no response.

  He entered. The place was empty.

  Back into the south chamber he sprang again, and began to search forEdith's hats and wraps.

  Not an article of her clothing was visible.

  He tried to open her trunk.

  Of course it was locked.

  He was now white as death, and actually shaking with anger.

  He went to the dressing-case and mechanically opened the upper drawer.

  All the costly treasures that he had purchased to tempt his bride laythere, exactly as he had placed them; he doubted if she had even seenthem.

  With a curse on his lips he went out, and looked into every other roomon that floor; but it was, of course, a fruitless search.

  Then he turned into the rear hall and went down the back stairs.

  Ah! the door at the bottom was ajar.

  Another moment he was in the lower hall, to find the area doorunfastened; then he knew how his bird had flown.

  He instantly summoned the servants, and took them to task for theirnegligence.

  Both the cook and the chambermaid avowed that no one but the gas-manhad entered or gone out by the area door that afternoon.

  But, upon questioning them closely, Emil Correlli ascertained that theouter door had been left unfastened "just a moment, while the man wentto the meter, to take the figures."

  A close search revealed the fact that the key to the stairway door wasmissing, and, putting this and that together, the keen-witted manreasoned out just what had happened.

  He believed that Giulia had stolen in through the area door close uponthe heels of the gas-man; that she had found the key, unlocked thestairway-door, and made her way up to the library to seek an interviewwith him--he did not once suspect her of having seen Edith--whileEdith, upon reconnoitering and finding the back way clear, had takenadvantage of the situation and flown.

  He was almost frantic with mingled rage and despair.

  He angrily berated the servants for their carelessness, and vowedthat he would have them discharged; then, having exhausted hisvocabulary upon them, he went back to the library, wrathfully cursingGiulia for having forced herself into his presence to distract hisattention, and thus allow his captive an opportunity to escape.

  Mr. and Mrs. Goddard returned about this time, both looking as if theyalso had met with some crushing blow, for the former was white andhaggard, and the latter wild-eyed, and shivering from time to time, asif from a chill.

  Both were apparently too absorbed in some trouble of their own to feelvery much disturbed by the flight of Edith, although Mr. Goddard'sface involuntarily lighted for an instant when he was told of herescape.

  Emil Correlli flew to the nearest telegraph office and dashed off amessage to a New York policeman, with whom he had had some dealingswhile living in that city, giving him a description of Edith, andordering him, if he could lay his hands upon her, to telegraph back,and then detain her until he could arrive and relieve him of hischarge.

  He reasoned--and rightly, as we have seen--that Edith, would be morelikely to return to her old home, where she knew every crook and turn,rather than to seek refuge in Boston, where she was friendless and acomparative stranger.

  A few hours later he received a reply from the policeman, giving himan account of his adventure with Miss
Edith Allandale and her escort.

  "By heavens, she shall not thus escape me!" he exclaimed; and at oncemade rapid preparations for a journey.

  Half an hour afterward he was on the eleven o'clock express train, inpursuit of the fair fugitive, in a state of mind that was far fromenviable.