CHAPTER IX.
"THERE MUST NOT BE A SINGLE TRACE LEFT TO MARK THE SPOT OF THE GRAVE YOUARE NOW DIGGING," SAID THE MUFFLED STRANGER.
The old grave digger worked on faster and faster by the fitful light ofthe carriage lamp, with the wild night winds howling about him, and theperspiration streaming down his face, as the stranger stood over himcovering his heart with the deadly revolver.
"That will do, my man," he said, as old Adam paused for breath a moment."That is deep enough, I guess. It will not take long to place its futuretenant therein; then you must replace the earth and pack the snow socarefully about it that it would not attract the attention of thecasual passer-by. Do you comprehend?"
"Yes," answered the old grave digger, and it seemed to him that his ownvoice sounded like nothing human.
The stranger turned and walked leisurely to the coach in waiting.
Old Adam would have fled from the spot in mortal terror, but that hislimbs were trembling and refused to carry him.
He leaned heavily on his spade, asking himself in growing fright--whatterrible mystery was this that fate had drawn him into, and awaitingwith quaking heart what would follow.
He had not long to wait. The stranger who had stepped to the carriageevidently proposed to lose no time.
In less time than it takes to recount it, he had lifted from the vehiclea slender figure, closely wrapped in a long dark garment, and as he didso a second person stepped from the coach--a man, closely muffled likehis companion--and wearing his soft hat pulled low over his eyes.
One glance at the flickering light of the carriage lamp fell upon them,bearing the slender figure between them, and old Adam's heart fairlystood still with horror.
He recognized them at once as the parties who had stood before thealtar in the old stone church scarcely an hour before.
Great God! could it be? Ah, yes, it must be the body of the beautiful,hapless young bride they were bringing to this wild and lonely grave.
How did she happen to die? She who had been so full of bounding life butone short hour before--only the all-seeing eye of the God above couldtell--ay, could solve this horrible mystery.
Another moment, and in utter silence, the slender figure was loweredinto the frozen ground by the two strangers.
This accomplished, the same man turned to old Adam again, saying,abruptly:
"Now finish your work as speedily as possible, I repeat thecaution--mind--not a trace must be visible when you have accomplishedyour task, to mark the spot."
No word from the old grave digger answered him. He could not haveuttered a single syllable if his very life had depended upon it.
While the other had been speaking, a gust of wind had for a singleinstant tossed aside the heavy cloth that covered the face, and old Adamsaw beyond all doubt that it was indeed the lovely young creature whohad within that hour been made a bride, and with that terrible discoverycame another--there was, as sure as fate, a flush upon the beautifulface of her whom they were consigning to the tomb.
"Hold!" he cried out with all his strength, drawing back from his work,shaking with terror. "The--the--girl is not dead; there is color--"
A fierce oath from the lips of both men simultaneously cut his wordsshort.
"The girl is dead," exclaimed the man who had so far done the talking."That is blood you see on her face. She had a hemorrhage. Go on withyour work, you fool--or, here! give me the spade. I will make a shortshift of it."
But as the stranger uttered these words, stepping quickly forward to putthe thought into execution, a sudden thought, like an inspiration,occurred to the ancient grave digger.
"No--no--I will finish my work," he muttered. "I--I--can do it best, asI--I--understand it--and--and--you, would not."
"Make all haste, then; it is growing bitter cold. We shall all freeze todeath."
"Could you not get into the coach, sir, to keep warm?" suggested oldAdam; "you can be of no aid to me, you know. When I havefinished--you--you can step out and see if it is done to yoursatisfaction."
For a moment the stranger hesitated, then said, sharply:
"I think I will take your advice, my man; my feet are about as numb asthey could well be, I assure you; and as you say, my standing here willnot help you. I can watch from the carriage window, and when the work isdone step out and look at it."
With that he hurried quickly to the vehicle, and with a thankfulness inhis heart that words are weak to describe, and with a mental "God bepraised," the old grave digger bent to his task with renewed energy.
Both men watched narrowly and anxiously, as spadeful after spadeful ofdirt quickly disappeared from the white ground. Then the white heapingsnow was leveled over the dark narrow space, and the grave diggerannounced that his work was completed.
"I do not know as it is worth while to examine it; the old fellow knowshis business," remarked Halloran to his companion, who was by this timefairly well under the weather from large draughts of brandy he had drunkfrom a bottle he had seized from the bar. "Step up on the box beside thedriver"--thrusting a bank note into the old grave digger's nervous,trembling hand--"we will take you along the road as far as we go."
For an instant old Adam hesitated, but it was only for an instant, forhe said to himself he must not arouse the suspicion of this stranger byrefusing to ride, especially as he had begged for that permission soshort a time before. He could frame no reasonable excuse for asking toremain behind.
Marking the spot as best he could in the intense darkness, he climbed upto the driver's box as he had been bidden, and took his seat.
With a sharp cut of the whip upon their flanks, the horses were started,and swaying to and fro with their every motion as they dashed along overthe uneven road, the coach sped onward.
No word fell from the driver's lips, and old Adam was too much excitedto vouchsafe a remark.
He knew that the men, as well as the rig, did not belong thereabouts,for he well knew every team in the village, and those of the adjoiningfarmers.
How far they traversed thus he could not judge, but to his intenserelief he saw at last that they were passing a familiar landmark, an oldbridge that spanned a dry creek which was scarcely a dozen rods from hisown door.
"I will leave you here," said Adam. "I thank you for giving me a lift."
Again the coach came to a halt, and the man within put out his head,inquiring sharply:
"What is the matter now?"
"This man wants to get off here."
"Very well," replied Halloran, drawing back into the warmth of the coachand giving the matter no further thought, and resuming the castles inthe air which he had been building when the vehicle came to a stop. "Ishall see that you carry out to the fullest detail the little plot I amlaying this night for you," he muttered, looking steadily at hiscompanion, who had dozed off into a heavy stupefied sleep upon theopposite seat, "and when you come into possession of the money whichyour marriage to the little heiress to-night will bring you, I shallcome in for the lion's share of it. You dare not refuse my demands, nomatter how exorbitant they may be, under penalty of exposure. That willbe the sword in my hands that will always hang over your head.
"It would have been more difficult to accomplish my scheme if the girlhad lived. It is best as it is. Dead people tell no tales. Of coursethey will search for the girl when they discover that she has eloped,but will believe she is cleverly eluding them or traveling about thecountry. I have always had golden dreams of a fortune that would be inmy grasp some day, and now, lo! my dream is about to be realized."
While he was thus soliloquizing, old Adam, the grave digger, wasstanding silently in the road where they had set him down, thensuddenly he turned abruptly--not toward his home--but as quickly as hisaged limbs could carry him back over the ground the coach had justtraversed, praying to Heaven to guide him to the spot where he had dugthe lonely grave of the beautiful, hapless young bride of an hour.