For Woman's Love. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

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Название For Woman's Love
Автор произведения Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth
Жанр Языкознание
Серия
Издательство Языкознание
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isbn 4064066227463



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party.

      "Good morning, Judge Abbot. We are just in time, I find. We came up by the night train, and a close shave it has been. Well, a miss is as good as a mile, and we are safe to see the whole of the pageant," said the old man, speaking to a tall, thin, gray-haired gentleman, who wore a rosette on the lapel of his coat.

      "Yes, sir; but here is a very strange difficulty—very strange, indeed," replied the official, with a deeply troubled and perplexed air, which was shared by all the gentlemen who stood with him.

      "What's the trouble, gentlemen? Is the chief justice ill, that his honor cannot administer the oath, or what?"

      "It is much worse than that—if anything could be worse," gravely replied one of the committee.

      "What is it then? A contested election at this late hour?"

      "The governor-elect cannot be found. No one has seen him since eleven o'clock last night. He is missing."

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      "Missing!" echoed old Aaron Rockharrt, drawing up his huge frame to its fullest height, and staring with strong black eyes in a defiant and aggressive manner. "Missing! did you say, sir?" he repeated sternly.

      "Yes, Mr. Rockharrt; ever since last night," replied Judge Abbot, chairman of the committee, in much distress and anxiety.

      "Impossible! Never heard of such a thing in the whole course of my life! A bridegroom lost on the evening of his marriage! A governor lost on the morning of his inauguration! I tell you, sir, it is impossible—utterly and entirely impossible! How do you know, sir, that he has not been seen by some one or other since last night? How do you know that he cannot be found, somewhere, this morning?"

      "All his household have failed to find him. Our messengers have been sent in every direction without discovering the slightest clew to his—fate," gloomily replied the judge.

      Mr. Rockharrt turned to the porter, who was still in attendance at the door, and demanded:

      "Where is your mistress?"

      The man, a negro and an old family servant of the Rockharrts, replied:

      "The young madam is in the back drawing room, sir; and if you please, sir, I think she would be all the better for seeing the old madam."

      "Who is with her now?" shortly demanded Mr. Rockharrt, ignoring his servant's suggestion, although Mrs. Rockharrt looked nervously anxious to follow it "There is no one with her, sir."

      "Alone! Alone! My granddaughter left alone on the morning after her marriage? What do you mean by that? Where is your master?

      "Show me in to your mistress at once. I will get at the bottom of this mystery, or this villainy, as it is more likely to prove, before I am through with the matter. And if my granddaughter's husband is not to be found before the day is out, I will have all concerned in the plot arrested for conspiracy!" exclaimed Mr. Rockharrt, with that utter recklessness of assertion to which he was addicted in moments of excitement.

      The dismayed negro lowered his eyes and led the way. Aaron Rockharrt strode on, followed by his timid and terrified old wife, his stalwart sons, his mocking grandson, and the members of the committee. But the old man, not liking such an escort, turned upon them, and said, with sarcastic politeness and dignity:

      "Gentlemen, permit me. It is expedient, under existing circumstances, that I should first see my granddaughter alone."

      The members of the committee bowed with offended dignity and withdrew to the front of the hall.

      Meanwhile Aaron Rockharrt sent back the members of his own family, and strode solemnly into the drawing room, which was half darkened by the closed window shutters.

      "Now leave the room, sir; shut the door after you and stand on the outside to keep off all intruders," commanded Mr. Rockharrt to the servant who had admitted him.

      When the door was closed upon him, Aaron Rockharrt discerned his granddaughter, who sat in an easy chair in a dark corner of the back drawing room, which was divided from the front by blue satin and white lace portieres. Her deadly pallid face gleamed out from the shadows in startling contrast to her jet black hair and the black dress which, against all precedent, she wore on this the morning after her marriage.

      The old man of iron went up and stood before her, looking at her in silence for a few moments.

      "Corona Rothsay," he began, sternly, "what is the meaning of this unparalleled situation?"

      "I—I—do not know."

      "You do not know where your husband is on the morning after his marriage and on the day of his expected inauguration?"

      "No; I do not know."

      "You seem to take this desertion or this death very quietly."

      "What would be gained by taking it any other way?" she murmured, though indeed she was not taking the situation quietly, but controlling herself.

      "How dare you say so to me?" severely demanded the old man, scarcely able to control his wrath, though at a loss to know against whom to direct it.

      "You ask me a direct question. I give you a truthful answer."

      "Answer me, truly!" rudely exclaimed Aaron Rockharrt, giving way, in his blind egotism, to utter recklessness of assertion, to gross injustice and exaggeration. "What have you done to him, Corona? Tell me that!"

      She started violently and looked up quickly; her face was whiter, her eyes wilder than before.

      "What—have—you—done to him?" he sternly repeated, looking her full in the deathly face.

      "I? Nothing!" she answered, but her voice faltered and her frame shook.

      "I believe that you have! You look as if you had! I have seen the devil in you since we brought you home from Europe against your will; especially within the last few days!"

      Having hurled upon her this avalanche of abuse, he turned and strode wrathfully up and down the room until he had got off some of his excitement. Then, he came and stood before his granddaughter.

      "How long has your husband been missing?" he abruptly inquired.

      "Since last night," in a very low tone.

      "When did you see him last? Tell me that!"

      "I have already told you—last evening."

      "Tell me all that has occurred from the time you both left Rockhold to the time you entered this house which I placed at your disposal and to which I sent you, to save you from the noise and bustle and excitement of a crowded hotel, and to give you rest and quiet and seclusion. Yes! and this the result! But go on and tell me. From the time you left Rockhold to this time, mind you!"

      "Very well, sir, I will tell you. Our journey, a series of ovations. Our reception in this city was a triumph. We were met at the depot by a great crowd, and by the committee with carriages, and we were escorted to this house by a military and civil procession with a band of music. They left us at the gate.

      "We entered, and were received by the servants. As soon as I had changed my dress we went down to dinner. After dinner we went into the drawing room. A gentleman was announced on official business connected with the ceremonies of to-day. He was shown into the library, and my husband went to him. Many callers came. They talked with Mr. Rothsay in the library. I remained in this room. At last the crowd began to thin off, and soon all were gone. Mr. Rothsay came into this room—and sat down by my side. We talked