Estella's husband; or, Thrice lost, thrice won

Front matter

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

I

George /^unro Publisher

Chapter I. Koysten Darrell

A long, low room, paneled in black walnut, the dim daylight stealing in through the high, narrow windows, gloomy and dark, and almost unfurnished. A few stiff-backed wooden chairs, primly arranged, round the walls, a deal table, covered with oil -cloth, in the middle of the floor, a stony-hearted old horse-hair sofa — nothing more. In a huge gulf of a fire-place, wide enough to hold yule logs at Christmas-time, a fire of green wood sputtered and smoked viciously, and failed to lighten or heat the somber room.

It was an afternoon early in May, but a chill wind blew rawly over the sea, and drifted the rain ceaselessly against the narrow windows. A hopelessly wet and windy afternoon, with a low-lying black sky, frowning down on a moaning black sea, and with trees tossing drearily in the wailing, desolate blast. Desolate without, desolate within, the one occupant of that eerie chamber paced up and down, up and down, with all the gloom of the weather shadowed darkly in his face.

An old man, bent, and withered, and wrinkled, with scauty gray locks straggling from under a rusty old skullcap, and a face seamed and drawn into innumerable furrows. From under bushy gray brows two keen eyes twinkled, and the long, lean hands, clasped behind his back, were hooked like the talons of a bird of prey.

He stopped short in his restless walk suddenly, at the sound of a loud-voiced clock, somewhere outside, striking sonorously four.

“ Four o'clock/* muttered the old man, angrily, “ and he told Simpson he would be here directly. Some people would dawdle, I believe, though the crown of the world awaited them. And yet, Roysten Darrell is not one of that sort, either.”

He walked to one of the windows and looked out. There were six windows to the long, antique room, three looking east, over a bare expanse of desolate marsh and swampy meadow land, and three looking west, over a bleak, circular beach and illimitable waste of sea. Through one of these western windows the old man gazed at the lonesome prospect — at the long, forsaken shore, at the rain-beaten ocean.

Far away to the right you caught a glimpse of a straggling village; far away to the left spread out the sodden marshes and bare, windy beach. No living thing was to be seen, but about a mile distant, rising and falling on the long groundswell, a low, dark schooner lay at anchor within a sheltered curve of the circular shore.

“ Ay,” said the old man, apostrophizing this piratical-looking craft, there you lie — black bird of ill-omen — rightly named the 4 Raven . 9 There you lie, black and forbidding! and many a dark deed has been done on your polished deck, and many a foul crime, I dare say, has your gloomy hulk hidden. There you lie, you black buccaneer! fitting craft to be commanded by reckless Roysten — by Dare-devil Darrell. And yet there are worse scoundrels out yonder in the world than the mad-headed smuggler captain — fortune-hunters, with glib tongues and polished manners; and ten to one but the girl may fall a victim to one of them, if I let her go. Better marry Roysten Darrell than one of those black-hearted hypocrites. Whatever he is— give the devil his due — I don't think it is in him to be unkind. to a woman.”

He walked away from the window to the table, took up a letter lying there, and read it over slowly, from beginning to end — a long letter, written in a delicate, spidery hand, and signed “ Helen Mallory.”

He laid it down, after his slow perusal, seated himself before the sputtering fire, and gazed thoughtfully into its smoky heart.

“ And to think he should turn up at last— after over sixteen years, and claim his child. To think that he should be a nobleman and a millionaire— to think that this girl, half educated, half civilized, brought up by old Peter Fisher, should have the wonderful sang azure of the old estella’s husband.

regime in her veins, and be this French nabob’s sole heiress! It is like a fairy tale or a melodrama; it is like nothing in real life. Ha! that knock! Eeckless Roysten at last.”

A thundering knock, that made the lonely old house vibrate, came to the front door. The old man smiled grimly as he heard it.

“It is characteristic of the man — Dare-devil Darrell’s knock the wide world over. Big, blundering, impetuous giant! Ten to one but he refuses to make his fortune, after all.”

A slip-shod footstep was heard straggling along the low passage, a chain was slipped, a key turned, and the house door opened. Directly after there was a scuffle in the passage, and a boisterous bass laugh.

‘ * My Hebe ! my idol !’ ’ cried this boisterous voice. ‘ ‘ My lovely Judith, do I again behold thee? Never squirm or wriggle, my fair one, but give me a kiss, and have done with it.”

Here there was a struggle, and a sounding slap, followed by a second jovial laugh.

“ It’s like your impidence, Captain Darrell,” exclaimed a shrill female voice. “ If I’d a-knowed it was you, you might a- knocked the door down afore I’d have opened it. Let me alone, I tell you, or I’ll scratch your eyes out.”

A man’s step came bounding up the stairs — each stride making them creak with his weighty then the door was flung open, and Captain Roysten Darrell, of the schooner “ Raven,” stood before old Peter Fisher.

A magnificent monster — a giant of six feet three, with the thews and sinews and muscles of a gladiator — the build of a Farnese Hercules, and the symmetry of an Apollo Belvedere. A kingly head, crowned with a glorious aureole of red-brown hair; magnificent beard and mustache of the same leonine hue; a broad, white forehead; two brilliant blue eyes, full of laughing light; a symmetrical nose, and a ruddy complexion well browned by exposure to freezing winds and tropic suns. An overgrown Adonis — a human lion, a superb specimen of muscular Christianity — aged seven-and-twenty years.

The old man wheeled round in his chair, and eyed the big captain of the “ Raven ” with a grim stare.

“ At last, Roysten Darrell! You have kept me waiting, estella’s husband.

and I hate people who make me wait. You told Simpson you would follow him directly, and Simpson has been back over an hour.”

“ Simpson may go hang!” responded Eoysten Darrell, politely, “ and you, too, my Ancient Mariner, if it comes to that. Do you suppose I have nothing else to do, when ashore, than dancing attendance upon you and Simpson? It was touch-and-go my getting here at all, most worthy old buffer. I had other fish to fry, I can tell you. But here I am; and now, what the deuce do you want in such a hurry?”

“ To make your fortune, Eoysten Darrell, little as you deserve it. So try and keep a civil tongue in your head. YouTe not on the deck of the ‘ Eaven ’ now, remember, and Peter Fisher isn’t one of your slaves. ”

“ Make my fortune, eh?” repeated Captain Darrell, coolly. “ Why don’t you make your own first, Mr. Fisher? This old rookery of yours will tumble about your ears one of these days. Take a little of the fortune you are going to make for me and repair it. Have you found the Philosopher’s Stone, or Aladdin’s Wonderful Lamp, or a crucible to turn all metals into gold? or have you come upon a buried treasure, or what? I have no objection to have my fortune made, and it’s slow work making it in the 4 Eaven.’ The revenue cutters were within an ace of having me, crew and cargo, this last time.”

“ They’d have had you long ago, if you had been an honester man; but Satan is good to his own. However, your fortune is made, and within your grasp now, if you choose to reach out your hand and take it. ”

“Then, by Jove, I choose! Just have the goodness to explain yourself a little. ”

The old man leaned forward, and his keen, ferret eyes peered sharply into the brilliant blue orbs of the stalwart captain.

“ Eoysten Darrell, have you any objection to a wife?”

“Not the least in life! To a dozen, if you choose. Have you found me one?”

“ I have— an heiress — a millionaire’s only child.”

“ Good! It has been the ambition of my life to marry a millionaire’s daughter. But where is she? I didn’t know millionaires existed over in yon big fishing village of Eockledge.”

ESTELLA' S HUSBAHD.

“ No more do they. She isn't in Rockledge; she is here, in this house."

“ Thousand thunders!" cried Roysten Darrell, in his boisterous voice. “You don't mean old Judith? By Jupiter! I'm not of a fastidious stomach in these matters, but I'll be hanged if I could bring myself to such a pitch as that. No, my worthy old crony," said the captain of the “Raven," making a wry face, “if Judith is your heiress, you'll allow me to decline. Much obliged to you, though, all the same."

“Don't be a fool, Darrell!" exclaimed Peter Fisher, angrily, “ and don’t lift the roof with that big voice of yours. I don't mean Judith, you know as well as I do; I mean Estella Mallory."

“What! Little Estella? But, mon ami, she's only a child."

“ She's over sixteen years, Captain Darrell, and a good-looking, well-grown girl. You objected to age a moment ago — now you object to youth. Pray what will you have?' '

“I'll have little Estella with all the pleasure in life. The question is, will Estella have me? She scuds, like a frightened deer, at the first glimpse of me. "

“ No wonder, with your rough ways, and your thunderous voice, and your ponderous six foot three. But I'll make that all right — she'll do whatever I tell her, or I'll know the reason why. And you'll marry her? Give me your hand on that, Roysten Darrell."

The captain of the “ Raven " stretched out his big brown paw, and gave one of the lean talons a grip that made the old man wince.

“ I'll marry her fast enough, and every other pretty girl from Maine to Florida, if you like. But where's your heiress? where's your millionaire? I thought little Estella' was an orphan."

“ So did I until within the last day or two, when a letter comes and tells me her papa has most unexpectedly turned up. He is a French nobleman, worth a mint of money, and Estella — when he finds her — is his heiress and only child."

“A marvelous tale," said Captain Darrell; “so marvelous, my old friend, that I can't swallow it at the first gulp. Who is this Estella Mallory (Mallory hasn't a very French sound, by the way), and how does old Peter Fisher, of Fisher's Folly, come to be the adopted father of French estella's husband.

noblemen's daughters? You'll excuse my curiosity, but if I'm to marry the young lady, it strikes me I should like to know something of her antecedents."

“ You shall know all," said Peter Fisher. “ Her mother, Estella Mallory (yes, the girl bears her mother's name, not her father's), eloped at the age of eighteen with an unknown foreigner, her music teacher — a poor devil, with nothing but a handsome face, a black mustache, and a high-sounding name — an exile. Whether she was his wife or not did not appear, and the Mallory family — proud as the — as your best friend. Captain Darrell — were shocked and horrified, and scandalized beyond everything. How she spent the first year of her union with Monsieur Hautville does not appear — wretchedly enough, I infer, in poverty and loneliness. The first thing that is known of her, she turns up here — she conies to me in her misery and utter friendliness for shelter and succor. I had known pretty Estella Mallory when a graceful girl of fifteen, and she came to me in preference to the home she had abandoned forever. She came in poverty and sickness, and I took her in and did my best for her. But that best could not save her life — she went to her grave, a broken-hearted woman, at the age of eighteen. In this house her child was born, and we named her after the mother that was dead and gone."

The grim old face grew a shade less grim, as he told the story— the every-day story of a woman's woe. Koysten Darrell listened intently.

“ And monsieur — how do you call him? the gay deceiver — where is he?"

“In France. With the overthrow of the old dynasty, and the rise of the Napoleonic star, he went back to be reinstated in the old title and the old estates. That was all the dying girl could or would tell me; but I know she thought he had deserted her. She wore his wedding-ring, she showed me her marriage certificate — but she never looked to see his face in this world again. No letter, no message ever came — she died believing herself betrayed and deserted. And yet it seems it was not so; after sixteen years our French noble turns up and claims his child."

“How does he discover he has one?" asked Captain Darrell.

“ From his dead wife’s only sister and sole living relaestella’s husband.

tive, Helen Mallory. He returns to this country, anxious to make reparation — to own his marriage, to claim his wife. His wife he can not find — her sister he does, and learns Estella is dead and buried, and her daughter and living image lives and bears her name. He is immensely rich— he has his ancient title — he burns to behold his daughter, and claim her as his heiress. But Helen Mallory neither forgives nor forgets the past; his tardy repentance does not move her; she refuses to tell him where that daughter is to be found. 4 1 will write to her guardian, M. le Comte/ she says, coldly; ‘ you have little claim to my dead sister’s child. I will tell Mr. Fisher what you have told me; if he is ready to resign the girl he has adopted and reared from infancy, well and good; if not — you must seek her and find her for yourself, without any clew from me.’ She keeps her word— this haughty Helen Mallory; her letter came two days ago. Monsieur the Count offers immense rewards for his heiress; he is ready to pay any sum I may demand. Here is the letter — read for yourself.”

The old man took the letter from the table and passed it to the captain of the 44 Raven.” Roysten Darrell read it carefully from beginning to end.

44 A very nice letter and a very good turn-up for you ! But you’ll excuse my dullness, Mr. Fisher, if I say I don’t see clearly how all this is to benefit me /”

44 In the easiest way imaginable — as the girl’s husband. Look here, Roysten — you marry her before she knows anything of her good fortune. When this wealthy French count finds his daughter, he finds his daughter’s husband also. What belongs to your wife belongs to you; you claim her fortune, and you — share that fortune with me. ”

44 Exactly!” replied Captain Darrell, coolly; 44 and the lion’s share, too, I take it. A very charming scheme, Mr. Peter Fisher, but not altogether practicable. In the first place, little Estella won’t marry me— you’ll find she won’t — and these girls can be as determined as the deuce, when they choose. In the second place, supposing you compel her to marry me, she won’t live with me an hour after she finds her rich father. And what do you suppose that aristocratic papa will say to a son-in-law who weds his daughter, willy-nilly, after he finds out she has a fortune?

What will M. le Comte think of you? what will he think of me?”

“ Whatever he pleases. You will be her husband all the same, and it will be rather late in the day for an esclandre. Monsieur the Count must put up with the inevitable. At the worst, there will be a compromise and a divorce, and you will bleed the Parisian nabob to the tune of half his fortune. Half of that half you will hand over to me, and it will make us both rich for life. What do you say, Roysten Darrell — will you make a bold stroke for fortune, and marry the girl out of hand?”

Peter Fisher leaned forward, his greedy old eyes glistening.

The brilliant blue orbs of the captain met that eager gaze with imperturbable sang froid.

“You cold-blooded old reprobate!” he said, taking out a cigar and biting off the end. “ You're a deeper-dyed villain than I am; and that is saying a good deal. You have brought up this girl from babyhood — you stand pledged to her dead mother, who trusted you, for her welfare; and here you are, bartering her off, as though she were a little slave-girl under the auctioneer’s hammer. Why, you thundering old crocodile, have you no bowels of compassion? Don’t you know you are trying your hardest to make her miserable for life?”

The old man listened unmoved, an evil sneer on his withered face.

“ Satan turned saint! Roysten Darrell changed into a second St. Kevin! Go — there’s the door! Go back to the ‘ Raven,’ and let the revenue officers take you, and rot in prison for me. You’re a greater fool than 1 took you to be!”

“ Thank you, old messmate! I believe I will go, for 1 have business to attend to that is rather pressing. How soon is pretty little Estella to become Mrs. Roysten Darrell?”

“ Ah, I thought your scruples would end in that way! You will marry her, then?”

“ Most assuredly. Do you think me capable of refusing so small a favor to a lady? I’ll marry her to-morrow, if you choose, and take her with me for a honey-moon cruise in the ‘Raven.’ Meantime, you can settle matters with papa, and when we return, Mrs. Darrell, heartily sick of

ESTELLA*S HUSBAND.

the sea and of matrimony, I shall be ready for that divorce and half of the millionaire’s fortune. Good-evening to you, old hypocrite! Settle matters with the young lady — tell lies by the yard — I’ll swear, through thick and thin, to all you assert. To-morrow, about this time. I’ll be along again to hear the result.”

He rose up, and swung off with his long, sailor stride.

Peter Fisher watched him out of the room, with a grim glance, and heard the house-door close after him with a bang that made him wince.

4 4 The devil take him!” muttered the old man. 44 He’ll smash every hinge in the house if he comes here often. If there were any other way — but there is not, and she must marry him. After all, a divorce will set everything right again. I will have feathered my nest, and away in France,, who will be the wiser? It must be. I’ll break it to her at once. ”

He seized a hand-bell on the table and rang a vigorous peal. >

The summons was answered by a gaunt old woman, as grim, and wrinkled, and withered as her master.

44 Send Estella Mallory here, Judith,” her master said. 44 Tell her to come at once.”

The gaunt domestic departed without a word, and Peter Fisher sat staring nervously into the smoky fire.

Outside, the rain beat, and the wind blew, andihe dusk of the dismal spring day already darkened the dismal room.

The old man shivered as the shrill gale whistled round the lonely gables. *

44 After all,” he muttered, 44 she ought to be glad to get away from this grewsome place — glad of anything for a change. Roys ten Darrell’s a handsome fellow, and girls all like to be married. 1 hope she won’t object. I don’t want to use force. .There’s a look of her dead mother in her big, brown eyes sometimes that — Oh, here she comes!”

Chapter II. Estella

There was the quick pattering of light feet down the long, steep stairs— the last three cleared with a jump — estella’s husband.

then the door flew open, and Peter Fisher’s ward stood, brightly smiling, on the threshold.

The fire leaped up as she entered, as if brightened by her bright presence, and lighted the dusky room. The old man shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked furtively at her, thinking, in spite of himself, what a contrast she was to his late visitor— to the gigantic captain of the “ Eaven,” and his gaunt, grim old housekeeper.

She stood before him — a tall, slender damsel, with a pale, rather thin face, and the evident consciousness of having too many arms, which it is in the nature of sixteen years to have. Great brown eyes, dark, deep-shining, lighted up this pale, girlish face — not beautiful yet, but full of the serene promise of future beauty. Beautiful eyes * — now black and sparkling, now soft and glowing with amber light, reminding you of Balzac’s “ Girl with the Golden Eyes.”

With these wondrous brown eyes went a wondrous fall of hazel hair, rippling, waving, shining, down to her slender waist — a glorious chevelure, that would have driven a fashionable belle wild with envy.

She stood before him there, in the fire-light, so brightly pretty that it was a pleasure only to look at her.

“ Her mother’s image,” old Peter Fisher thought, with a little nervous tremor. “ It is like seeing the ghost of the dead.”

“ You sent for me, Uncle Fisher?” the girl asked, in her fresh, young voice. “ Judith told me you wanted to see me very particularly.” ♦

“ And so 1 do. Come in, child, and sliuj; the door. Take that seat — I have something very important to say to you.”

The bright, brown eyes opened wide, and fixed themselves in a frank stare of astonishment on the seamed old face.

In all her sixteen years’ experience, Mr. Fisher never had had anything of importance to say to her before.

The old man shifted in his chair, and leaned back further into the shadow, strangely uneasy under that clear gaze.

“ Do you know how old you are, Estella?” he asked.

“ Why, yes, uncle; sixteen, last March.”

“ Sixteen years and three months, and a young woman, Estella.”

estella ’s husband.

Estella Mallory laughed — a clear, sweet laugh.

“ I hope I am nothing half so stupid. A young woman! How prim and dowdyish it sounds! One is only a girl at sixteen. Time enough to be a young woman when one is two-or three-and- twenty.”

44 Pooh! nonsense! You’re as much of a woman almost as you’ll ever be — a strong, well-grown girl. Plenty of women are married before they’re your age.”

Miss Mallory shrugged her graceful shoulders.

44 They must be in a hurry, uncle. If there’s one thing more stupid and dowdyish than being a 4 young woman,’ it is to be married. Is this what you sent for me to talk about?”

It was quite evident Mr. Fisher’s ward was not in the least awe of her grim guardian. And, indeed, you needed but look once into those bright, frank eyes to see that utter fearlessness was a characteristic of the girl’s nature.

44 Estella,” said the old man, shifting his base, 44 aren’t you tired of this place — of this lonely old house — of those dreary marshes — of that everlasting sea — of t that stupid Rockledge?”

44 Dreadfully tired, uncle — tired to death of it all, ages ago.”

44 And you would like to leave it, wouldn’t you?” eagerly. 44 To travel and see the world, to visit great cities, to be your own mistress, and quit Fisher’s Folly forever?”

The brown eyes dilated; the pretty lips came breathlessly apart.

44 Uncle, what do you mean? Are you going to send me away? Oh!” clasping the little hands in sudden rapture, 44 perhaps you are going to send me to school.”

44 No, my — my dear. That would not be freedom — only another more irksome kind of bondage. Boarding-school girls are veritable slaves, and half-starved at that. No, no, Estella! I mean Something better than that.”

44 Then, perhaps you are going to quit Kockledge yourself, and take me and J udith with you. That would be nice.”

44 Better still, Estella. Can not you guess?”

Miss Mallory shook her brown curls.

44 No, uncle, I can’t travel over the world alone; and, unless you are going to take me, 1 give it up!”

44 My dear,” the old man said, his voice trembling with estella's husband.

eagerness, 4 4 you need not go alone. A younger and handsomer man will take you. You are old enough to be married, Estella. l r ou shall go as a bride !"

Estella Mallory gave a little, gasping cry, then sat staring in speechless astonishment.

44 You like young and handsome men — don't you, my dear? All young girls do. And he's — he's very much in love with you," said Mr. Peter Fisher, bringing the words out with a gulp, 44 and ready to do anything under the sun for you. He will take you everywhere. To New York — and New York is a wonderful city, Estella— to foreign lands, if you wish. He will be your slave; every wish of yours will be his law. You shall have silk gowns, and gold ear-rings, and cart-loads of those novels you like so much, and everything your heart can desire. All he asks in return is that you marry him — this week."

44 This week!" gasped the stricken Estella; 44 good gracious me ! Uncle Fisher, who are you talking about?"

44 About the man who loves you so much, Estella," replied Uncle Fisher, with ghastly playfulness. 44 Can't you guess his name?"

44 Does he ever come here?"

44 Yes, my dear — often."

44 Then 1 give it up," said -Estella, promptly, 44 for I never saw a young and handsome man inside this house in my life."

44 Think, my dear — think. Try again."

44 Think!" repeated Estella; 44 it doesn't require any thinking. There's Mr. Jacobs, the minister, he comes here, and he's got a bald head, and a wife and five children. There's Doctor Skinner, he drops in sometimes, and he's a widower of sixty-five, with granddaughters older than I am. There's the butcher and the grocer, they come after their bills monthly, and they're both married men, and old and ugly as original sin. There's your lawyer — old Grimshaw — with a face like a death’s-head, who has buried three wives and is looking out for a fourth. Perhaps it is Mr. Grimshaw, uncle; though if you think him either young or handsome, you must be taking leave of your senses."

Mr. Fisher laughed a feeble, little laugh.

44 Ha! ha! my dear; very good! But it isn't Mr. Grimshaw, nor any of those you have mentioned. Try again."

estella's husband.

44 Whereas the use?” exclaimed Estella, impatiently. v * I never see any one else here. 1 can't guess. Who is it?”

44 My dear, he was here this very afternoon.”

Estella Mallory gave a cry, and fairly sprung from her chair.

44 Uncle! Mr. Fisher! You never mean to say you're talking of the smuggler captain — of that great, big, redheaded monster, Captain Darrell?”

4 4 I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, Miss Mallory!” said Peter Eisher, sharply. 44 Yes, I mean the captain of the 4 Raven.' A young and handsome man, miss, if there ever was one yet.”

44 Oh!” cried Estella.

It was all she could say. She dropped back in her chair, mute with amazement.

44 Captain Darrell was here this afternoon, and he wants to marry you. He'll take you on board the 4 Raven ' anywhere in the wide world you would like to go. ”

44 I'd see Captain Darrell and the 4 Raven ' at the bottom of the Red Sea first!” burst out Estella Mallory, her pale face turning crimson with indignation; 44 that great, frightful, overgrown, wicked wretch! Why, if there is any one man in the whole world 1 have a horror of, it is that man! A smuggler — a pirate — a — ”

“Silence!” thundered Peter Fisher, starting to his feet; 44 you bold minx, how dare you say such things of any friend of mine? Captain Darrell is a thousand times too good for you — a nameless pauper — and does you a thousand times too much honor by taking any notice of you at all.”

44 1 don't want him to take any notice of me,” responded the young lady, rather sulkily. 44 1 hate him!”

44 You shall marry him for all that. Do you think I am going to keep you on my hands forever — a burden and a drag? I always resolved you should marry the first decent man who asked you, and Roysten Darrell is the first, and you shall marry him!”