The Bondwoman

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  Miss Loring glanced about in surprise when she found no one in theroom but her uncle and Madame Caron.

  "Oh, I did not know you had left your room," she remarked, goingtowards him; "do you think it quite wise? And the storm; isn't itdreadful?"

  "I have endeavored to make him forget it," remarked Judithe, "andtrust I have not been entirely a failure."

  She was idly fingering the volumes in the book-case, and glanced overher shoulder as she spoke. Her hands trembled, but her teeth were setunder the smiling lips--she was waiting for his accusation.

  "I have no doubt my uncle appreciates your endeavors," returnedGertrude, with civil uncordiality, as she halted back of his chair,"but he is not equal to gayeties today; last night's excitement wasquite a shock to him, as it was to all of us."

  "Yes," agreed Judithe; "we were just speaking of it."

  "Phil Masterson tells me the men will be here some time today forCaptain Monroe," continued Gertrude, still speaking from the back ofhis chair, over which she was leaning. "Phil's orderly just returnedfrom following the spy last night. Caroline made us think at first itwas the guard already from the fort, but that was a mistake; she couldnot see clearly because of the storm. And, uncle, he came back withoutever getting in sight of the man, though he rode until morning beforehe turned back; isn't it too bad for--"

  Something in that strange silence of the man in the chair suddenlychecked the speech on her lips, and with a quick movement she was infront of him, looking in his face, into the eyes which turned towardsher with a strange, horrible expression in them, and the lips vainlytrying to speak, to give her warning. But the blow of paralysis hadfallen again. He was speechless, helpless. Her piercing scream broughtthe others from the sitting room; the stricken man was carried to hisown apartment by order of Dr. Delaven, who could give them little hopeof recovery; his speech might, of course, return as it had done a yearbefore, after the other paralytic stroke, but--

  Mrs. McVeigh put her arm protectingly around the weeping girl,comprehending that even though he might recover his speech, anyimprovement must now be but a temporary respite.

  At the door Gertrude halted and turned to the still figure at the bookcase.

  "Madame Caron, you--you were talking to him," she said, appealingly,"you did not suspect, either?"

  "I did not suspect," answered Judithe, quietly, and then they wentout, leaving her alone, staring after them and then at the chair,where but a few minutes ago he had been seated, full of a life asvindictive as her own, if not so strong; and now--had she murderedhim? She glanced at the mirror back of the writing desk, and saw thatshe was white and strange looking; she rubbed her hands togetherbecause they were so suddenly cold. She heard some one halt at thedoor, and she turned again to the book-case lest whoever enteredshould be shocked at her face.

  It was Evilena who peered in wistfully in search of some one notoppressed by woe.

  "Kenneth's last day home," she lamented, "and such a celebration ofit; isn't it perfectly awful? Just as if Captain Monroe and the stormhad not brought us distress enough! Of course," she added, contritely,"it's unfeeling of me to take that view of it, and I don't expect youto sympathize with me." There was a pause in which she felt herselfcondemned. "And the house all lit up as for a party; oh, dear; it willall be solemn as a grave now in spite of the lights, and our prettydresses; well, I think I'll take a book into the sitting room. I couldnot possibly read in here," and she cast a shrinking glance towardsthe big chair. "Is that not Romeo and Juliet under your hand? Thatwill do, please."

  Judithe took down the volume, turned the leaves rapidly, and smiled.

  "You will find the balcony scene on the tenth page," she remarked.

  And then they both laughed, and Evilena beat a retreat lest some ofthe others should enter and catch her laughing when the rest of thehousehold were doleful, and she simply could not be doleful overMatthew Loring; she was only sorry Kenneth's day was spoiled.

  The little episode, slight as it was, broke in on the unpleasantfancies of Judithe, and substituted a new element. She closed theglass doors and turned towards the window, quite herself again.

  She stepped between the curtains and looked out on the driving storm,trying to peer through the grey sheets of falling rain. The guard,then, according to Miss Loring, had not yet arrived, after all, andthe others, the Federals, had a chance of being first on the field;oh, why--why did they not hurry?

  The pelting of the rain on the window prevented her from hearing theentrance of Colonel McVeigh and the Judge, while the curtain hid hereffectually; it was not until she turned to cross the room into thehall that she was aware of the two men beside the table, each withdocuments and papers of various sorts, which they were arranging. TheJudge held one over which he hesitated; looking at the younger manthoughtfully, and finally he said:

  "The rest are all right, Kenneth; it was not for those I wanted to seeyou alone, but for this. I could not have it come under your mother'snotice, and the settlement has already been delayed too long, but yourabsence, first abroad, then direct to the frontier, and then our ownwar, and Mr. Loring's illness--"

  He was rambling along inconsequently; McVeigh glanced at him,questioningly; it was so rare a thing to see the Judge ill at easeover any legal transaction, but he plainly was, now; and when hisclient reached over and took the paper from his hand he surrendered itand broke off abruptly his rambling explanation.

  McVeigh unfolded the paper and glanced at it with an incredulousfrown.

  "What is the meaning of this agreement to purchase a girl of color,aged twelve, named Rhoda Larue? We have bought no colored people fromthe Lorings, nor from any one else."

  "The girl was contracted for without your knowledge, my boy, beforeyour majority, in fact; though she is mentioned there as a girl ofcolor she was to all appearances perfectly white, the daughter of anoctaroon, and also the daughter of Tom Loring."

  The woman back of the curtain was listening now with every sensealert, never for one instant had it occurred to her that KennethMcVeigh did not know! How she listened for his next words!

  "And why should a white girl like that be bought for the McVeighplantation?"

  There was a pause; then Clarkson laid down the other papers, and facedhim, frankly:

  "Kenneth, my boy, she was never intended for the McVeigh plantation,but was contracted for, educated, given certain accomplishments thatshe might be a desirable personal property of yours when you weretwenty."

  McVeigh was on his feet in an instant, his blue eyes flaming.

  "And who arranged this affair?--not--my father?"

  "No."

  "Thank God for that! Go on, who was accountable?"

  "Your guardian, Matthew Loring. He explains that he made thearrangement, having in mind the social entanglement of boys within ourown knowledge, who have rushed into unequal marriages, or--orassociations equally deplorable with scheming women who are alertwhere moneyed youth is concerned. Mr. Loring, as your guardian,determined to forestall such complications in your case. From abusiness point of view he did not think it a bad investment, since, ifyou for any reason, objected to this arrangement, a girl so welleducated, even accomplished, could be disposed of at a profit."

  McVeigh was walking up and down the room.

  "So!" he said, bitterly, "that was Matthew Loring's amiable littlearrangement. That girl, then, belonged not to his estate, but toGertrude's. He was her guardian as well as mine; he would have givenme the elder sister as a wife, and the younger one as a slave. What acurse the man is! It is for such hellish deeds that every Southerneroutside of his own lands is forced to defend slavery against heavyodds. The outsiders never stop to consider that there is not one manout of a thousand among us who would use his power as this man hasused it in this case; the many are condemned for the sins of the few!Go on; what became of the girl?"

  "She was, in accordance with this agreement, sent to a first-classschool, from which she disappeared--escaped, and ne
ver was foundagain. The money advanced from your estate for her education is,therefore, to be repaid you, with the interest to date; you, ofcourse, must not lose the money, since Loring has failed to keep hispart of the contract."

  "Good God!" muttered McVeigh, continuing his restless walk; "it seemsincredible, damnable! Think of it!--a girl with the blood, the brain,the education of a white woman, and bought in my name! I will havenothing--nothing to do with such cursed traffic!"

  Neither of them heard the smothered sobs of the woman kneeling thereback of that curtain; all the world had been changed for her by hiswords.

  She did not hear the finale of their conversation, only the confusedmurmur of their voices came to her; then, after a little, there wasthe closing of a door, and Colonel McVeigh was alone.

  He was seated in the big chair where Matthew Loring had received thestroke which meant death. The hammock was still beside it, and sheknelt there, touching his arm, timidly.

  He had not heard her approach, but at her touch he turned from thepapers.

  "Well, my sweetheart, what is it?" he said, and with averted face shewhispered:

  "Only that--I love you!--no," as he bent towards her, "don't kiss me!I never knew--I never guessed."

  "Never guessed that you loved me?" he asked, regarding her with aquizzical smile. "Now, I guessed it all the time, even though you didrun away from me."

  "No, no, it is not that!" and she moved away, out of the reach of hiscaressing hands. "But I was there, by the window; I heard all thatstory. I had heard it long ago, and I thought you were to blame. Ijudged you--condemned you! Now I see how wrong I was--wrong in everyway--in every way. I have wronged you--_you_! Oh, how I have wrongedyou!" she whispered, under her breath, as she remembered the men shelooked for, had sent for--the men who were to take him away aprisoner!

  "Nonsense, dear!" and he clasped her hands and smiled at herreassuringly. "You are over-wrought by all the excitement here sinceyesterday; you are nervous and remorseful over a trifle; you could notwrong me in any way; if you did, I forgive you."

  "No," she said, shaking her head and gazing at him with eyes more sadthan he had ever seen them; "no, you would not forgive me if you knew;you never will forgive me when you do know. And--I must tell you--tellyou everything--tell you now--"

  "No, not now, Judithe," he said, as he heard Masterson's voice in thehall. "We can't be alone now. Later you shall tell me all your sinsagainst me." He was walking with her to the door and looking down ather with all his heart in his eyes; his tenderness made her sorrowsall the more terrible, and as he bent to kiss her she shrunk fromhim.

  "No, not until I tell you all," she said again, then as his handstouched hers she suddenly pressed them to her lips, her eyes, hercheek; "and whatever you think of me then, when you do hear all, Iwant you to know that I love you, I love you, I _love_ you!"

  Then the door closed behind her and he was standing there with apuzzled frown between his eyes when Masterson entered. Her intenseagitation, the passion in her words and her eyes!--He felt inclined tofollow and end the mystery of it at once, but Masterson's voicestopped him.

  "I've been trying all morning to have a talk, Colonel," he said,carefully closing the door and glancing about. "There have been somenew developments in Monroe's case, in fact there have been so manythat I have put in the time while waiting for you, by writing downevery particle of new testimony in the affair." He took from hispocket some written pages and laid them on the table, and beside thema small oval frame. "They are for your inspection, Colonel. I have noopinion I care to express on the matter. I have only written down MissLoring's statements, and the picture speaks for itself."

  McVeigh stared at him.

  "What do you mean by Miss Loring's statement?--and what is this?"

  He had lifted the little frame, and looked at Masterson, who hadresolutely closed his lips and shook his head. He meant that McVeighshould see for himself.

  The cover flew back as he touched the spring, and a girl's face, dark,bright, looked out at him. It was delicately tinted and the work waswell done. He had a curious shock as the eye met his. There wassomething so familiar in the poise of the head and the faint smilelurking at the corner of the mouth.

  There was no mistaking the likeness; it looked as Judithe mightpossibly have looked at seventeen. He had never seen her with thatchildish, care-free light of happiness in her eyes; she had alwaysbeen thoughtful beyond her years, but in this picture--

  "Where did you get this?" he asked, and his face grew stern for aninstant, as Masterson replied:

  "In Captain Monroe's pocket."

  He opened his lips to speak, but Masterson pointed to the paper.

  "It is all written there, Colonel; I really prefer you should readthat report first, and then question me if you care to. I have writteneach thing as it occurred. You will see Miss Loring has also signedher name to it, preferring you would accept that rather than be calledupon for a personal account. Your mother is, of course, ignorant ofall this--"

  McVeigh seemed scarcely to hear his words. _Her_ voice was yetsounding in his ears; her remorseful repetition, "You will neverforgive me when you do know!"--was this what she meant?

  He laid down the picture and picked up the papers. Masterson seatedhimself at the other side of the room with his back to him, andwaited.

  There was the rustle of paper as McVeigh laid one page after anotheron the table. After a little the rustle ceased. Masterson lookedaround. The Colonel had finished with the report and was againstudying the picture.

  "Well?" said Masterson.

  "I cannot think this evidence at all conclusive." There was a pauseand then he added, "but the situation is such that every unusual thingrelating to this matter must, of course, be investigated. I shouldlike to see Margeret and Captain Monroe here; later I may questionMadame Caron."

  His voice was very quiet and steady, but he scarcely lifted his eyesfrom the picture; something about it puzzled him; the longer he lookedat it the less striking was the likeness--the character of Judithe'sface, now, was so different.

  He was still holding it at arm's length on the table when Margeretnoiselessly entered the room. She came back of him and halted besidethe table; her eyes were also on the picture, and a smotheredexclamation made him aware of her presence. He closed the frame andpicked up the report Masterson had given him.

  "Margeret," he said, looking at her, curiously, "have you seen MadameCaron today?"

  "Yes, Colonel McVeigh;" she showed no surprise at the question, onlylooked straight ahead of her, with those solemn, dark eyes. Heremembered the story of her madness years ago, and supposed that wasaccountable for the strange, colorless, passive manner.

  "Did she speak to you?"

  "No, sir."

  Judithe opened the door and looked in; seeing that McVeigh wasapparently occupied, and not alone, she was about to retire when hebegged her to remain for a few minutes. He avoided her questioningeyes, and offered her a chair, with that conventional courtesyreserved for strangers. She noted the papers in his hand, and the oddtones in which he spoke; she was, after all, debarred from confessing;she was to be accused!

  "A slight mystery is abroad here, and you appear to be the victim ofit, Madame," he said, without looking at her. "Margeret, last nightwhen Miss Loring sent you into the corridor just before the shot wasfired, did you see any of the ladies or servants of the house?"

  "No, sir."

  There was not the slightest hesitation in the reply, but Juditheturned her eyes on the woman with unusual interest. Colonel McVeighconsulted his notes.

  "Miss Loring distinctively heard the rustle of a woman's dress as herdoor opened; did you hear that?"

  "No, sir."

  "You saw no one and heard no one?"

  "No one."

  There was a pause, during which he regarded the woman very sharply.

  Judithe arose.

  "Only your sister or myself could have been in that corridor withoutpassing Miss Loring's door; is Miss L
oring suspicious of us?--MissLoring!"--and her tone was beyond her control, indignant; of allothers, Miss Loring! "Margeret, whatever you saw, whatever you heardin that corridor, you must tell Colonel McVeigh--tell him!"

  Margeret turned a calm glance towards her for a moment, and quietlysaid, "I have told him, Madame Caron; there was no one in thecorridor."

  "Very well; that is all I wanted to know." His words were intended fordismissal, but she only bent her head and walked back to the window,as Masterson entered with Monroe. The latter bowed to Judithe withmore than usual ceremony, but did not speak. Then he turned anonchalant glance towards McVeigh, and waited. The Colonel lookedsteadily at Judithe as he said:

  "Captain Monroe, did you know Madame Caron before you met her in myhouse? You do not answer! Madame Caron, may I ask you if you knewCaptain Monroe previous to yesterday?"

  "Quite well," she replied, graciously; there was almost an air ofbravado in her glance. She had meant to tell him all; had begged himto listen, but since he preferred to question her before these men,and at the probable suggestion of Miss Loring--well!

  Masterson drew a breath of relief as she spoke. His Colonel must nowexonerate him of any unfounded suspicions; but Monroe regarded herwith somber, disapproving eyes.

  "Then," and his tone chilled her; it has in it such a suggestion ofwhat justice he would mete out to her when he knew all; "then I am,under the circumstances, obliged to ask why you acknowledged theintroduction given by Miss Loring?"

  "Oh, for the blunder of that I was accountable, Monsieur," and shesmiled at him, frankly, the combative spirit fully awake, now, sincehe chose to question her--_her_!--before the others, "I should haveexplained, perhaps--I believe I meant to, but there was conversation,and I probably forgot."

  "I see! You forgot to explain, and Captain Monroe forgot you wereacquainted when he was questioned, just now."

  "Captain Monroe could not possibly forget the honor of suchacquaintance," retorted Monroe; "he only refused to answer."

  The two men met each other's eyes for an instant--a glance like thecrossing of swords. Then McVeigh said:

  "Where did you get the picture found on your person last night?"

  "Stole it," said Monroe, calmly, and McVeigh flushed in quick angerat the evident lie and the insolence of it; he was lying then toshield this woman who stood between them--to shield her from herhusband.

  "Madame Caron," and she had never before heard him speak in that tone;"did you ever give Captain Monroe a picture of yourself?"

  "Never!" she said, wonderingly. Margeret had taken a step forward andstood irresolutely as though about to speak; she was very pale, andMonroe knew in an instant who she was--not by the picture, but fromPluto's story last night. The terror in her eyes touched him, and asMcVeigh lifted the picture from the table, he spoke.

  "Colonel McVeigh, I will ask you to study that picture carefullybefore you take for granted that it is the face of any one you know,"he said, quietly; "that picture was made probably twenty years ago."

  "And the woman?"

  "The woman is dead--died long ago." Margeret's eyes closed for aninstant, but none of them noticed her. Judithe regarded Monroe,questioningly, and then turned to McVeigh:

  "May I not see this picture you speak of, since--"

  But Monroe in two strides was beside the table where it lay.

  "Colonel McVeigh, even a prisoner of war should be granted someconsideration, and all I ask of you is to show the article in questionto no one without first granting me a private interview."

  Again the eyes of the men met and the sincerity, the appeal of Monroeimpressed McVeigh; something might be gained by conceding therequest--something lost by refusing it, and he slipped the case intohis pocket without even looking at Judithe, or noticing her question.

  But Monroe looked at her, and noted the quick resentment at hisspeech.

  "Pardon, Madame," he said, gently; "my only excuse is that there is alady in the question."

  "A lady who is no longer living?" she asked, mockingly. She waspuzzled over the affair of the picture, puzzled at the effect it hadon McVeigh. In some way he was jealous concerning it--jealous, howabsurd, when she adored him!

  Monroe only looked at her, but did not reply to the sceptical query.Gertrude Loring came to the door just then and spoke to McVeigh, whowent to meet her. She wanted him to go at once to her uncle. He wastrying so hard to speak; they thought he was endeavoring to say"Ken--Ken!" It was the only tangible thing they could distinguish, andhe watched the door continually as though for someone's entrance.

  McVeigh assured her he would go directly, but she begged him topostpone all the other business--anything! and to come with her atonce; he might be dying, he looked like it, and there certainly was_some_ one whom he wanted; therefore--

  He turned with a semi-apologetic manner to the others in the room.

  "I shall return presently, and will then continue the investigation,"he said, addressing Masterson; "pending such action Captain Monroe canremain here."

  Then he closed the door and followed Gertrude.

  Judithe arose at that calm ignoring of herself and moved to thetable. She guessed what it was the dying man was trying to tellKenneth--well, she would tell him first!

  Pen and paper were there and she commenced to write, interruptingherself to turn to Masterson, who was looking out at the storm.

  "Is there any objection to Captain Monroe holding converse withother--guests in the house?" she asked, with a little ironical smile.

  Masterson hesitated, and then said: "I do not think a privateinterview could be allowed, but--"

  "A private interview is not necessary," she said, coolly. "You canremain where you are. Margeret, also, can remain." She wrote a line ortwo, and then spoke without looking up, "Will you be so kind, CaptainMonroe, as to come over to the table?"

  "At your service, my lady."

  He did so, and remained standing there, with his hands clasped behindhim, a curious light of expectancy in his eyes.

  "You have endured everything but death for me since last night," shesaid, looking up at him. She spoke so low Masterson could not hear itabove the beat of the rain on the window. But he could see the slightbend of Monroe's head and the smile with which he said:

  "Well--since it was for you!"

  "Oh, do not jest now, and do not think I shall allow it to go on," shesaid, appealingly. "I have been waiting for help, but I shall wait nolonger;" she pointed to the paper on the table, "Colonel McVeigh willhave a written statement of who did the work just as soon as I canwrite it, and you shall be freed."

  "Take care!" he said, warningly; "an avowal now might only incriminateyou--not free me. There are complications you can't be told--"

  "But I must be told!" she interrupted. "What is there concerning mewhich you both conspire to hide? He shall free you, no matter what theresult is to me; did you fancy I should let you go away undersuspicion? But, that picture! You must make that clear to me. Listen,I will confess to you, too! I have wronged him--Colonel McVeigh--ithas been all a mistake. I can never atone, but"--and her voice sanklower, "it was something about that picture made him angry just now,the thought I had given you some picture. I--I can't have him thinkthat--not that you are my lover."

  "Suppose it were so--would that add to the wrongs you speak of?" Hisvoice was almost tender in its gentleness, and his face had a strangeexpression, as she said: "Yes, it would, Captain Jack."

  "You mean, then--to marry him?"

  Something in the tenseness of his tones, the strange look of anxietyin his eyes, decided her answer.

  "I mean that I have married him."

  She spoke so softly it was almost a whisper, but if it had beentrumpet-like he could not have looked more astonished. His face grewwhite, and he took a step backward from her. Masterson, who noticedthe movement, walked down to the desk, where he could hear. Margeretwas nearer to them than he. All he heard was Madame Caron asking ifCaptain Monroe would not now agree that she should see the pict
uresince it was necessary to defend herself.

  But Monroe had gone back to his chair, where he sat looking at herthoughtfully, and looking at Margeret, also, who had remained near thedoor, and gave no sign of having heard their words--had she?

  "No, Madame Caron," he said, quietly, "if there is any evidence in myfavor you can communicate to Colonel McVeigh, I shall be your debtor,but the picture is altogether a personal affair of my own. I will, ifI can, prevent it from being used in this case at all, out ofconsideration for the lady whom I mentioned before."