Behind a mask

Chapter I A Bitter Trial

Two young men sat on the veranda of a seaside hotel, and with chairs tipped comfortably back against the house, were chatting and smoking as they lazily viewed the delightful scene which lay beneath them.

The day was warm and sultry and the air heavily laden with the fragrance of the flowers. The ocean presented a glass-like surface, with never a break of foam to relieve its heaving, breathing motion.

Even the breakers appeared to have lost their ability to make a stir, for they rolled monoton¬ ously, languidly upon the beach and broke with a little dull thud, leaving just a ripple of white on the yellow sand, as if in a gentle caress of their well worn friend. The birds twittered qui¬ etly in the trees, and the bumbles, yellow-jackets and blue-bottles held high carnival as they went singing and buzzing from bush to bush and flower to flower.

Suddenly the rush of horses* hoofs, the sound e ,BEHIND *A MASK of rapidly revolving wheels, broke rudely in upon the quiet atmosphere.

“Jerusalem!" ejaculated the shorter of the young men, jumping excitedly to his feet, “a runaway, with a woman, too; let us—”

“Sit down, George, my dear,” his companion interrupted coolly, “there is not the slightest oc¬ casion for any alarm; it is only Mrs. Brown."

“Only Mrs. Brown?" echoed the other, as he sank slowly back into his seat. “Who is Mrs. Brown?"

"Watch that bend; she will round it in a sec¬ ond. Ah, here she is; see for yourself."

“Well, whoever she is, she handles the ribbons better than any woman I ever saw before," he murmured, as a pair of perfectly matched greys swung rapidly up the road and came to a sudden standstill amid a cloud of dust. A groom sprang rapidly forward and caught their bits, while a clear, pleasant ringing voice from behind the mist exclaimed:

“All right, Bob; rub them down well, and have Caesar saddled at half-past six."

As the man drove slowly away, she turned for an instant on the steps to watch the moving ani¬ mals, and during that moment George Devine took the opportunity of “taking her all in," as he expressed it.

Small, very small, exquisite figure; tiny feet

*A FITTER TRIBAL and hands; a huge mass of tawny, reddish hair crowned an ugly face—dreadfully ugly, with the skin freckled and sun-burned, until it looked almost like a piece of tanned leather; decent nose, full, thick, sensual lips, and as beautiful pair of eyes as ever man looked into, blue grey., shaded with black lashes that rested on her cheeks before they turned up in a delightful curve, which gave a peculiar, altogether fascin¬ ating appearance to their expression. In truth, her most devoted admirer could not modify her looks into anything but “exceedingly plain, you know. ”

She paused again when she reached the porch and nodding carelessly, exclaimed with a smile which lit up her face with a most pleasant ex¬ pression, and which showed a set of strong, white, even teeth:

"Hello, Harwood, your friend has arrived, I see."

“Yes, Mrs. Brown,” raising himself from his seat, “allow me to present Mr. Devine.”

“Glad to meet you, sir,” as she extended a frank hand to the newcomer; “I hope Oceanside will suit your fancy. You will find it a pleasant place in which to spend a holiday.”

“I have not a doubt of it,” he returned in a genial tone. “I am already fascinated by this view.'

"Bring Mr. Devine up to my room and have a punch, Harwood,” she said after a few more words. "It is dreadfully hot and a cool drink will be refreshing."

"Who is Mrs. Brown?" asked Devine again, as soon as she was beyond earshot.

"Mrs. Brown," replied his friend laconically.

"Where does she come from?"

"I never inquired."

"A widow?"

"So I presume."

"Ever heard anything about the defunct Brown?"

"Perhaps he is not defunct."

"I thought you said she was a widow."

"Yes, but maybe she came from Chicago;" Harwood gave a short laugh.

"Really you are most unsatisfactory," his friend said smiling.

"And you are a most persistent catechiser. Are you fascinated already?"

"Why not; isn't she nice?”

"Oh, yes; she is real good sort, jolly, pleasant —hail-fellow well met, yet still not the kind one would wish to associate with one’s sisters, you know."

"Are you getting personal? What ails you? I haven’t spoken a.dozen words to the woman yet, and you are already hinting at me about bringing e/f ‘BITTER TRIAL ii her into relations with my family. Suppose you allow me a little more time before cautioning me about my sister’s associates.”

"It is only a word of warning, old fellow,” put in the other gently. "I know what an impres¬ sionable fellow you are, you know, and your pretty face and well-filled purse is a most tempt¬ ing bait for a designing woman. I have always expected to see you wind up with some sort of misalliance. But there, I will not say any more, and by Jove, you couldn’t any way. She is too deucedly ugly.”

"Well, she is unmercifully plain, ” admitted the other slowly; "just like my terrier, she is so ugly she is almost handsome. But, come, don’t you know anything about her anyway?”

"Nothing. Still, I would advise you to be careful, for I confess she is a most fascinating companion, and I fear there are many dark spots on her career of which I would not care to learn. Treat her as I do, 'bonne comrade ,’ and keep your fancies where they belong. Come,” he said, abruptly rising and pushing back his chair, ♦ "let us go and have a punch. She beats any barkeeper I ever struck in mixing drinks.”

"Does she? Well, I am ready—in fact, to tell the truth, you have aroused my curiosity. I want to see more of her. I will give you my opinion at length later on.”

f BEHIND *A MASK

As they moved slowly across to the hall a dark face withdrew from a window just above them and a small white fist shook itself menacingly at Harwood’s unconscious back.

In a comfortable, upset sort of room, beauti¬ fully furnished, with the blinds lowered and the air almost too full of the odor of sweet smell¬ ing flowers which filled innumerable vases and glasses—sat Mrs. Brown, clad in a loose white wrapper, her hair hanging in two long braids which rested on the floor. She lay stretched negligently out on a long low chair, a book in her lap and a cigarette between her lips.

"Come in,” she called in answer to the knock on the door. "Ah; find yourselves seats, and take a cigarette—plenty on the table there."

The two stalwart fellows seemed to fill the room when they came in.

"Hot today, isn’t it?”

"Dreadfully so,” smiled Harwood. "Get your weed, George, and sit down," he exclaimed sud¬ denly. "He is the worst fellow for standing on his feet, Mrs. Brown, I ever saw; never knows when he needs a rest."

"Pray excuse me," Devine said hesitatingly, his face slightly reddened at the view he had of the dainty ankles, the white arms bared to the elbow, as she raised her cigarette; the whole ensemble of negligent position, careless attitude

A 'BITTER TRIAL coming on him unexpectedly had confused his mind for a moment, but quickly recovering him¬ self, he cried half-laughingly. “Coming in from the bright glare and put suddenly into a dark¬ ened room with such a pretty picture as you make, Mrs. Brown, unfolded to me, I suppose I lost my wits a little. Forgive me.”

"Forgiven immediate^ after your pretty little speech; but neither compliments nor flattery are allowed in my domicile, Mr. Devine; so a truce must be cried immediately to such things."

“Granted, but you must not forbid my speaking the truth, as in this instance, for you do make a picture."

“Yes, an uncommonly ugly one," she answered laughing. "I am well aware of the slight claim I have on feminine beauty. But come,” rising slowly, “we will have our punch. Here, Har¬ wood, you roll these lemons and you get me a small bottle of champagne, and the sherry from the side board there, Mr. Devine. I believe I have everything else here. Thank you. Now stand and watch me. Move one side a little, I need room,” she smiled as with wonderful stead¬ iness she poured the liquor from one glass to an¬ other at arm’s length.

“That makes my mouth water," exclaimed Har¬ wood. as the foam rose to the surface.

"Does it? Well, try it then; and you, too,"

with an upward glance at Devine who stood look¬ ing down at her with an amused smile on his cheery face. "Here’s how.”

"Delicious!” cried Devine enthusiastically; “but then I expected as much.”

"Why?” she asked quickly.

"Well, Harwood is a connoisseur and he gave me his word. Where did you learn?”

"Oh, when I was a lass, I served a term, as first-class mixer in a liquor firm,” she hummed. "Sit down,” she added, "and sip it quietly. It makes it taste better.”

“Yes, sweetness long drawn out always suits me best,” said Harwood.

“That is because you are so notoriously lazy," said his friend.

"You came this morning, did you not?” she inquired, as they sat themselves on either side of her.

"Yes.”

"Where is your home?”

"I live in Woltown, Massachusetts.”

“Is it a pretty place?"

"Well, yes, as manufacturing cities go, it is.”

“Are you going to spend the summer here?”

"Yes, provided Harwood will put up with me. "I have always tried to get him away from here, but could never succeed. He thinks Oceanside zA ‘BITTER TRIAL

*5 the only place in America during the summer."

"And did you never come before?”

“No, I do not like quiet places generally. I prefer life and bustle. But Harwood says Oceanside is to be a most fashionable resort this year, so I accepted his invitation to spend the season with him. Have you been here much?”

“Yes, a great deal, especially a number of years ago. I am very fond of the place. The roads are good, trout and perch are plentiful, and partridges available bye and bye. Then the sail¬ ing and deep water fishing gives it a pleasant variety. Queer sports for a woman to engage in, you will say, but I am out of the ordinary run, I am afraid. I detest women as a rule."

“Do you?” said Devine naively; “I don’t.”

“Oh, no,” interposed his friend laughing. “We all know that. You must confess to a par¬ ticularly strong attraction to the fair sex."

“Oh,‘every one to his own taste,”' she replied, “but my life has been spent with little or no femi¬ nine influence surrounding it; being brought up by an indulgent father, I early became accustomed to the society of men and addicted to masculine sports. The few women on whom I ever staked my affection have fallen so far short of honor, at least according to the male code, that I have gradually become contented with my dogs, horses and books; and if ever a woman does cross my path, I get out of the way as quickly as possi¬ ble.”

“What a queer story!” exclaimed Devine. "I can hardly imagine a woman so situated. My sisters would perish if they did not have their girlish confidantes."

"Yes, I know most women depend on each other. ”

"Has not such a life placed you often in false positions?"

"Indeed it has. I began by being erroneously judged, and so I have continued. Mrs. Grundy’s gossip has little or no effect on me now. When I hear remarks made concerning my antecedents and career—well," shrugging her shoulders, "I only say: 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.' Oh," dropping her cigarette. "Thank you, Harwood. Yes," she murmured in a low tone, as she bent to receive it from him, "it is true about eaves¬ droppers, isn’t it?"

"Really, Mrs. Brown," he commenced, follow¬ ing her rapid glance to the window and under¬ standing her insinuation, "you must have—"

"I’m going to ride bye and bye," abruptly in¬ terrupting him and turning to Devine, "would you two like to accompany me?”

"Of all things,” he returned, "if horses are available."

"The idea of saying such a thing in the coun-

A BITTER TRIAL n try," said Harwood. "Of course, there are plenty of horses."

"Yes, plugs, perhaps, but I doubt if you can find any to keep pace with Mrs. Brown’s ani¬ mals, if her greys I saw a while ago are a sam¬ ple of what she travels with."

"Oh, I promise not to run away from you," she laughed. "If you cannot keep up with me, I can stay behind with you, you know."

"Under such conditions, I can speak for my¬ self, John, and if Harold can scare me up a nag of any kind, I will follow you as closely as he will permit me."

"Then it is agreed," added his friend, "and we shall enjoy a pleasant ride, I have no doubt."

"Will you pardon me if I turn you out now? I make a habit of indulging in an afternoon siesta , for which I feel much better on these warm days, and which I miss greatly if I neg¬ lect. Therefore if you do not wish to have a most lackadaisical partner in our excursion, I must necessarily ask you to leave."

"Very well," said Harold, with a smile. ."We will consider ourselves dismissed."

"Only until supper time, ” Devine interrupted. "You will dine with us, will you not?"

"Certainly I shall, and with pleasure. I hope you will pardon my lack of ceremony?"

i8

‘BEHIND c 4 MASK

“Oh, of course. I believe thoroughly in the old proverb about ‘each for himself/ etc. Come, Harold, we will see you later on, and many, many thanks for the delicious punch—may I

soon have another?”

* * * * * *

Half-past six; Ihe sun is still shining bright¬ ly down onto his old friend, the ocean, but the warmth of his rays has departed, and a gentle breeze, which has taken the place of the extreme heat of the morning, is stirring the waves into little ripples which seem to be tumbling over each other in a merry spirit of playfulness, as if they, too, were glad to be free from the hot breath, and to be once more fanned by the winds they love so well, and which give them the pow¬ er to indulge in gentle sports or lash themselves into a fury of fiendish delight, as they thunder up and down the coast, or off on the vast bosom of the restless sea.

Skirting the shore ran a winding road, shaded by trees on the one side, and the overhanging cliffs on the other. Three horses with their riders came cantering slowly from behind the bend, the latter being engaged in a laughing discussion. Some women need but to be put on the back of a horse when their whole aspect undergoes a re¬ markable change. The erect carriage of the body, the poise of the head, and the entire

A BITTER T%IAL

*9 change of expression of both face and figure cause them to appear as if here, if in no other condition, they were born to command, and so with Mrs. Brown. Her Caesar was a most superb animal—jet black with a coat that shone like satin; arched neck and protruding nostrils, a fiery, restless eye, which showed his control was only due to the will of one stronger than his own. She sat easily in her seat, the small frame drawn up so straight that she appeared a tall woman. Her habit fitted her dainty figure to a nicety and betrayed each line of beauty from the swelling bust to the rounded hips. Her face, too, was flushed, and the red in her cheeks and the light in her glorious eyes—her sole claim to beauty—so changed her appearance that one could scarcely restrain the exclamation of amazement:

“Is this possible? Can this be the same woman?”

Devine’s fair face openly expressed his admi¬ ration, which he took no pains to conceal. Even Harwood could not suppress a thrill of delight in beholding a dainty creature like this holding such a restless, fiery animal under such perfect command.

“I tell you, Mr. Devine, Harwood must have scoured all the farms in the country to obtain you such a mount. I assure you, I have never seen a better one about here.”

“Oh, you need not poke any fun at the poor old beast,” he answered laughing. “We have not tested his going capacities yet, you know. He may be able to outrun your Caesar.”

“There is a long stretch of country road be¬ yond here; we may try conclusions then. How near do you think your Pet can keep to us, Har¬ wood?"

“Pet is an old and valued friend, Mrs. Brown, and has been right faithful to his master; but still, I fear he is no match for you. However, we will see.”

“Then let us move along a little quicker. I can bear nothing slow moving or going. I fear I am a very restless creature. It is so hard for me to keep still. Come,” and with a gentle jerk on her rein, she broke into a canter, fol¬ lowed closely by her escort.

They had ridden some miles further on, the rapid pace having necessarily obliged the conver¬ sation to be of a desultory character, when sud¬ denly she drew rein, saying:

“Our race track is only a little way ahead. Let us give our steeds an opportunity to get a breath, especially yours,” turning mischievously towards Devine.

They had turned from the ocean, and were in

«/* BITTER T%IAL 21

sight of a long, even stretch of country over which they might safely venture to run their horses for a number of miles.

Laughingly they drew up in line, and quarreled amicably over the signal to start.

“I do declare, I feel like a child,” she cried finally in a girlish manner. “Such a crazy thing for us to do. But then it’s a pleasing excitement, and Caesar does so dearly love a good run. At the word, Mr. Harwood.”

“Very well,” he said; “when I say 'three/ you are to away. One, two, three, go!” and off they flew. For some time they kept almost abreast, Devine’s old animal getting over the ground in an amazing fashion, which called forth bursts of laughter. Suddenly bending, she spoke in a quick, sharp tone to her horse, and turning in her seat beckoned them with a laughing gesture a farewell, as Caesar bounded forward and soon left them both some distance behind. His pace was terrific. She seemed to the two men to be fairly flying over the earth like a bird.

“Such a seat,” muttered Harwood to himself; “the woman is wonderful and absolutely beauti¬ ful when on the back of a horse. By Jove—what is this? Is she down? Yes; and there goes her Caesar. I suppose that stranger caused the trouble. Where did he come from? He is pick¬ ing her up. I hope she is not hurt. George, hurry," and dashing his spurs into his horse's sides, he urged him rapidly forward.

“Are you hurt, Mrs. Brown?” he inquired anx¬ iously, as he jumped from his saddle and ap¬ proached her.

She had risen to her feet and stood looking at the stranger in a dazed, curious fashion.

“I think not,” the gentleman replied; "only stunned. My horse frightened her coming out of this wood so suddenly, and Caesar shied so abruptly that she lost her seat. He has run away. ”

“I will go and catch him,” said Harwood, and started off.

“Cad," said the stranger abruptly, “who are these men, and who is Mrs. Brown?”

For an instant she hesitated, then pulling herself together, while a hard look settled over her features, she said in a quiet voice:

“Those are two gentlemen from the hotel."

“Who is Mrs. Brown?” he repeated.

“Why, Mrs. Brown; who else could she be?"

“Oh, Mrs. Brown," cried Devine, as he reached her side, “I am so sorry. You are not injured, are you?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I felt stunned for a mo¬ ment, but am quite well now. Poor Mr. Har¬ wood has gone for Caesar, but he will return himself. Ah, here they come."

A WITTER TRIAL 23

Puckering up her lips, she gave a low, peculiar whistle which instantly brought the horse to her side.

“He came himself/’ said Harwood. 'I could not catch him.”

“I knew he would”’ she returned. “Poor fel¬ low; were you frightened?” stroking his neck with a gentle hand.

“Your whip,” said the stranger suddenly, ex¬ tending it to her; “do you feel well enough to mount?”

“Perfectly,” she replied gravely. “Thank you,” as she received her whip.

“Allow me,” said Devine, stepping forward to assist her.

“It is not necessary, thank you,” she answered.

“Down, Caesar,” lightly flicking his knees with her whip; and the noble beast immediately bent his forelegs, while she slipped gracefully into her saddle.

“Come, gentlemen, we had better return,” and without a word or look she turned from the stranger and trotted slowly back towards the hotel.

“Curious,” thought Harwood, “how queer in her to act so. Good day, sir,” and lifting his hat to the stranger, he overtook Devine, who had started after her.

Won’t you feel badly?” he asked, when he had reached her side. “You had an awful fall.”

“Yes,” she replied, in a tired way. "It has unsettled me I feel all shaken up. But probably a night’s rest will set me up again."

"Rather a slow ride, after all,” she said when they reached the hotel. "I am very sorry to have spoiled your pleasure. I think I will retire now. Better luck next time,” and forcing a smile, she turned from the horse and walked slowly toward the house.

"Nerve!” ejaculated Devine, looking after her, "that woman has more nerve than any man I ever saw. Fancy taking such a tumble without a murmur. She has pluck enough for ten men.”

"So she has,” answered his friend slowly.

"I don’t know of another woman that would have taken a throw like that without making a big fuss over it. But come, let us go up and get into our slippers and have a smoke.

The room was pleasantly lit by a handsome shaded lamp, and Mrs. Brown, in a loose neg¬ ligee, lay in her long low chair before the open window, idly looking off into the moonlit waters.

"Cad,” said a deep, low, melodious tone.

"Well,” she answered, turning her head slowly toward the stranger of the afternoon.

He had entered quietly and without knocking,

*A HITTER TRML and now stood in the center of the room, tall and imposing. The light fell on a face which was very handsome, dark thick hair, deep blue eyes and swarthy complexion; but with a line of determination about the mouth that in a great measure obliterated the beauty of the rest of the face.

“Cad,” he repeated, stepping closer to her; and as her eyes met his the red color suffused his cheeks and his eyes became filled with an expression so appealing that her own drooped.

“Cad, come to me,” he cried suddenly, sink¬ ing down beside her couch. “I cannot live without you. Come," and seizing her hand, he covered it with passionate kisses.

“Why have you followed me?” she spoke slowly. “I am contented now”

“Follow you,” he cried, “I have but just found you. I have spent all of my time in my search for you, but you so successfully covered your tracks, that had I not stumbled over you acci¬ dentally this afternoon, I should not be with you now. Will you not—can you not, love me again?”

“Do you really and honestly mean what you say?" raising herself in her seat while her breath began to come in little pants.

“Yes, I honestly mean what I tell you. Look at me; can you doubt it?”

Raising her eyes she looked long and deeply into his, where burned a flame so bright and a meaning so clear that her breath came quickly, and with her gaze still fixed on his she mur¬ mured softly:

“Yes, I believe you. Oh, Joe!" she cried wildly; and round his neck went the two arms and down she pulled his face closer until it rested on her bosom. Then she covered it with kisses—passionate, burning kisses, in which there were whole worlds of love.

“At last! at last!" he whispered, holding her close to him; and then their lips met, and her head was pillowed on his shoulder.

For some time they sat thus, heart to heart, in silence more eloquent than any words could have been.

“Oh, my Cad!" he murmured, “never to part again. You will come with me now. Nothing shall ever take you from me. I love you so. I have been so unhappy without you.”

“Poor Joe," softly stroking his dark face with a paressing motion peculiar to her," and I have so longqd for you. Something told me you would come to me tonight, and now, now, I am so 'happy."

“We will go far, far away from here, and live our lives together all for ourselves."

A BITTER T%IAL

"But why?” she asked. "Why should you wish to go away from here?"

"Would you not follow me to the ends of the earth if necessary?” pressing her to him again.

"If necessary, certainly. Joe, do you believe me?”

"Certainly, I believe you.”

”1 do not mean that. Do you believe in me?”

”1 love you,” he answered, laying his cheek to hers.

"Coward!” she cried suddenly, starting vio¬ lently from him and jumping to her feet.

“Cad.”

"Coward!” she hissed through her teeth.

"Control yourself," he spoke quietly, although with an effort.

"Control myself? Ah, indeed. Answer me now, once for all, do you believe me guilty?"

"I love you,” he replied doggedly.

"Do you believe in me, or do you still believe that woman’s foul story?”

"Cad; she is my mother.”

“And I, what was I?”

“You are my wife.”

“And believing me guilty of such a heinous, horrible, vile crime, you can still call me wife, and wish me to live with you as such?”

“I love you,” he interrupted her, and cross¬ ing held her out in front of him at arms’ length.

“I am mad with love of you. I can no longer even exist without you. What do I care if you have sinned? You love me still. I have read it in your eyes, I have felt it in your kisses, as I have never done before. What is all the world to me, if I can but have you for mine? I am des¬ perate. I tell you, I must have you again. You cannot, shall not, stay from me. Do you hear?”

"And you would so insult a defenseless wom¬ an?”

"Insult you. No.”

"You believe the story?”

"Why go over it? My mother gave me her word,and you know what I saw myself.”

"And I gave you my word.”

"She is my mother; why should she lie?”

"And I am your wife. Tell me,” she broke forth; "did woman ever give herself so complete¬ ly to a man before? Did I have a thought you did not share? Did I have a feeling which did not concern you?

"Were you not my very life, my joy, my sor¬ row, my all? Could anyone realize or know how completely I was yours, as well as you did your¬ self? And how did you repay such devotion? By listening to every seed planted in your mind against me by an evil, designing woman. Much as you professed to return my love, still you listened and believed against the woman

A BITTER TRIAL that was flesh of your flesh, bone of your bone, who daily, hourly gave her all unresistingly to you; and now, now, you would insult such per¬ fect love as I have given you, and drag it into the dirt by asking me to become simply your mistress. I cannot bear it.” She paced rapidly up and down the room. “I cannot bear it. It is too much,” she muttered to herself.”

“Be still and listen to me,” he said suddenly, meeting her in her excited walk, and grasping her by the shoulders so that she was forced to stand before him.

"No one knows the story. You are my wife, and you must live with me. I command you.”

"As your wife, yes. As your mistress, never.”

"What do you mean?”

"I mean that when you come to me and tell me that you know I am true, when you will ac¬ knowledge yourself in the wrong, when you give me proof of your belief other than mere words; then, and then only, will I consent to act as your wife. Until that time we will be stran¬ gers. To live with you now, would be com¬ mitting as vile a sin as that of which you ac¬ cuse me."

"Your decision is fixed?”

"It is.”

"Oh, Cad," he broke forth in a groan, as he read the look of unalterable resolve upon her face. "Oh, Cad; how can I live without you? My life is absolutely miserable. I can find no peace, no rest, no happiness. My pride is in the dust before you. Guilty or not guilty, I implore you, I beg of you to come to me.”