CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE PLEDGE THAT WAS GIVEN.
Edward opened the letter with deep emotion. The handwriting was smalland unformed, the writing of schoolgirl. It read:
"Jan. 3, 18--. My Darling Papa: When you read this I will be far away upon the ocean and separated from you by circumstances compared with which leagues are but trifles. You probably know them by telegram before now, but I cannot leave you and my native land without a farewell. Papa, I am now the wife of an honorable, loving man, and happy as I could be while remembering you and your loneliness. Why I have done this, why I have taken this step without coming to you first and letting you decide, I cannot tell, nor do I know. I only know that I love my husband as I have never loved before; that I have his whole affection; that he wanted me to go with him blindly, and that I have obeyed. That is all. There is no ingratitude in my heart, no lessening of affection for you; you still are to me the one man in my old world; but my husband had come in and made a new world of it all, and I am his. You will blame me, I am afraid, and perhaps disown me. If so, God is merciful to women who suffer for those they love. I would lay down my life for Gaspard; I have laid down everything dear to life. We go to his childhood's home in Silesia, where with the money he has saved and with his divine art, we hope to be happy and face the world without fear. Oh, papa, if you could only forgive me; if you could remember your own love for that beautiful mamma of whom you never tired telling, and who, I am sure, is near me now; if you could remember and forgive me, the world would hold nothing that I would exchange a thought for. Gaspard is noble and manly. You would admire him and he would adore you, as do I, your only child. Papa, you will write to me; a father can never forsake his child. If I am wrong, you cannot forsake me; if I am right, you cannot. There is no arrangement in all God's providence for such a contingency, and Christ did not turn even from the woman whom others would stone. Can you turn from me, when if I have erred it is through the divine instinct that God has given me? No! You cannot, you will not! If you could, you would not have been the noble patient, brave man whom all men love. Write at once and forgive and bless your child.
"Marion."
On a separate slip, pinned to the letter, was:
"My address will be Mrs. Gaspard Levigne, Breslau, Silesia. If we change soon, I will write to you. God bless and care for you.
"M."
Edward gently replaced the faded letter upon the table; his eyes werewet and his voice changed and unnatural.
"You did not write?"
The general shook his head.
"You did not write?" Edward repeated the question; this time his voicealmost agonized in the weight of emotion. Again the general shook hishead, fearing to trust his voice. The young man gazed upon him long andcuriously and was silent.
"I wrote five years later," said Evan, presently. "It was the best Icould do. You cannot judge the ante-bellum southern planter by himto-day. I was a king in those times! I had ambition. I looked to thefuture of my child and my family! All was lost; all perished in the actof a foolish girl, infatuated with a music master. I can forgive now,but over me have rolled waves enough in thirty years to wear away stone.The war came on; I carried that letter from Manassas to Appomattox andthen I wrote. I set inquiries afoot through consuls abroad. No voice hasever raised from the silence. My child is dead."
"Perhaps not," said Edward, gently; "perhaps not. If there is any geniusin European detective bureaus that money can command, we shall know--weshall know."
"If she lived she would have written. I cannot get around that. I knowmy child. She could not remain silent nearly thirty years."
"Unless silenced by circumstances over which she had no control,"continued Edward, "and every side of this matter has presented itself tome. Your daughter had one firm, unchanging friend--my uncle, JohnMorgan. He has kept her secret--perhaps her child. Is it not possiblethat he has known of her existence somewhere; that she has been allalong informed of the condition and welfare of the child--and of you?"Evan did not reply; he was intently studying the young man.
"John offered to find her a year after she was gone. He came and pleadedfor her, but I gave him conditions and he came no more."
"It is not only possible that she lives," said Edward, "but probable.And it is certain that if John Morgan knew of her existence and thenthat she had passed away, that all pledges would have been suspended inthe presence of a father's right to know that his child was dead. I goto unravel the mystery. I begin to feel that I will succeed, for now,for the first time I have a starting point. I have name and address." Hetook down the information in his memorandum book.
Edward prepared to take his departure, when Evan, throwing off his mood,stood before him thoughtful and distressed.
"Say it," said Edward, bravely, reading a change in the frank face.
"One moment, and I shall bid you farewell and godspeed." He laid hishand upon Edward's shoulder and fixed a penetrating gaze upon him."Young man, my affairs can wait, but yours cannot. I have no questionsto ask of yourself; you came among us and earned our gratitude. In timeof trouble I stood by you. It was upon my vouching personally for yourgentility that your challenge was accepted. We went upon the fieldtogether; your cause became mine. Now this; I have yet a daughter, theyoung woman whom you love--not a word now--she is the pride and idol oftwo old men. She is well disposed toward you, and you are on the pointof going upon a journey in her company under circumstances that placeher somewhat at a disadvantage. I charge you that it is not honorable totake advantage of this to win from her a declaration or a promise of anykind. Man to man, is it not true?"
"It is true," said Edward, turning pale, but meeting his gazefearlessly. "It is so true that I may tell you now that from my lips noword of love has ever passed to her; that if I do speak to her upon thatsubject it will be while she is here among her own people and free frominfluences that would bias her decision unfairly." The hands of the twomen met impulsively. A new light shone in the face of the soldier.
"I vouched for you, and if I erred then there is no more faith to be putin manhood, for if you be not a true man I never have seen one. Go anddo your best for Gerald--and for me. I must reflect upon thesematters--I must reflect! As yet their full import has failed me. Youmust send me that manuscript."
Deeply impressed and touched, Edward withdrew. The task was finished. Ithad been a delicate and trying one for him.
At The Hall Edward went with Mary into the darkened room and took thelittle mother's hand in his and sat beside her to tell of the proposedjourney. He pictured vividly the scenes to be enjoyed and life in thegay capital, and all as a certainty for her. She did not doubt; Dr.Campbell had promised sight; it would return. But this journey, theexpense, they could not afford it.
But Mary came to the rescue there; her father had told her he wasentirely able to bear the expense, and she was satisfied. This, however,did not deceive the mother, who was perfectly familiar with the familyfinances. She knitted away in discreet silence, biding her time.
The business to which Col. Montjoy had referred was soon finished. Heformally accepted the very opportune offer and wished to know when theyshould meet in the city to arrange papers. To this Edward objected,suggesting that he would keep an accurate account of expenses incurredand arrange papers upon his return; and to this, the only reasonablearrangement possible, Col. Montjoy acceded.
One more incident closed the day. Edward had nearly reached the city,when he came upon a buggy by the roadside, drawn up in the shade of atree. His own animal, somewhat jaded, was leisurely walking. Theirapproach was practically noiseless, and he was alongside the vehiclebefore either of the two occupants looked up. He saw them both startviolently and the face of the man flush quickly, a scar upon the nosebecoming at once crimson. They were Royson and his cousin.
Greatly pained and embarra
ssed, Edward was at a loss how to act, butunconsciously he lifted his hat, with ceremonious politeness. Royson didnot respond, but Annie, with more presence of mind, smiled sweetly andbowed. This surprised him. She had studiously avoided meeting him at TheHall.
The message of Mary, "Royson is your enemy," flashed upon him. He hadfelt intuitively the enmity of the woman. Why this clandestine interviewand to what did it tend? He knew in after days.
Arriving at home he found Virdow writing in the library and forbore todisturb him. Gerald was slumbering in the glass-room, his deep breathingbetraying the cause. Edward went to the little room upstairs to securethe manuscript and prepare it for sending to Gen. Evan. Opening the deskhe was surprised to see that the document was not where he placed it. Asearch developed it under all the fragmentary manuscript, and he wasabout to inclose it in an envelope when he noticed that the pages werereversed. The last reader had not slipped the pages one under another,but had placed them one on another, probably upon the desk, thusbringing the last page on top.
Edward remembered at that moment that in reading the manuscript he hadcarefully replaced each page in its proper position and had left thepackage on top of all others. Who could have disturbed them? Not Virdow,and there was none else but Gerald!
He laid aside the package and reflected. Of what use could thisunexplained manuscript be to Gerald? None that he could imagine; and yetonly Gerald could have moved it. Greatly annoyed, he restored the leavesand placed them in an envelope.
He was still thinking of the singular discovery he had made, and idlyglancing over the other fragments, when from one of them fell anewspaper clipping. He would not in all probability have read itthrough, but the name "Gaspard," so recently impressed upon his mind,caught his eye. The clipping was printed in French and was headed "Fromour Vienna correspondent." Translated, it read as follows:
"To-day began the trial of Leon Gaspard for the murder of Otto Schwartzin this city on the 18th ult. The case attracts considerable attention,because of the fact that Gaspard has been for a week playing firstviolin in the orchestra of the Imperial Theater, where he has won manyadmirers and because of the peculiar circumstances of the case. Schwartzwas a stranger and came to this city only upon the day of his death. Itseems that Gaspard, so it is charged, some years previously had deserteda sister of Schwartz after a mock marriage, but this he denies. The menmet in a cafe and a scuffle ensued, during which Schwartz was stabbed tothe heart and instantly killed. Gaspard claims that he had beenrepeatedly threatened by letter, and that Schwartz came to Vienna tokill him, and that he (Schwartz) struck the first blow. He had upon hisface a slight cut, inflicted, he claims, by a seal ring worn bySchwartz. Bystanders did not see the blow, and Schwartz had no weaponsupon his body. Gaspard declares that he saw a knife in the dead man'shand and that it was picked up and concealed by a stranger whoaccompanied him into the cafe. Unless he can produce the threateningletters, and find witnesses to prove the knife incident, the trial willgo hard with him."
Another clew! And the husband of Marion Evan was a murderer! Who sentthat clipping to John Morgan? Probably a detective bureau. Edward foldedit sadly, and gave it place by the memoranda he had written in hisnotebook.