A Modern Wizard Part 43

It was scarcely noon when Leon was announced to Agnes, who was in her morning room, sipping a cup of chocolate, and wondering when he would come. And now he was here. She expected to find him _distrait_, and lacking in manner and speech, as she had seen him in the dawning of his pa.s.sion. She was therefore wholly unprepared for what followed. If Leon had been bashful in her presence when he did not comprehend the cause of his disconcertion, having discovered that he loved Agnes, hesitation vanished. There was no circ.u.mlocution about his method at all. He was impulsive by nature, and, when a purpose was once well defined in his breast, he was impatient until he had put it into operation. Thus, without even alluding to the umbrella which he had ostensibly made the object of his visit, in accounting for it to himself, he addressed Agnes as follows:

"Miss Agnes, I have scarcely slept all night because of what might have happened through my carelessness yesterday."

"I do not understand you," said Agnes, and indeed she did not. She saw, however, that he intended to speak very directly, and was herself disconcerted.

"I mean the narrow escape which you had from being run over. I should have had my wits about me, and have prevented you from being in such danger."

"You saved my life!" she spoke softly, and drooped her head.

"I do not know. But for me it would not have been in need of saving.

But if I did save your life, I know that I preserved what is dearest in all the world to myself. No! Let me speak, please! I have awakened from a dream. I have lived in dream-land for many weeks, and I have not understood. I have been near you, and I have been happy, but in my stupidity I did not see that it was because of your companionship that I was happy. In the moment when I was in danger of losing you, I realized how great the loss would be. Had you died, I must have died too. Because--because, Agnes, I, I, to whom the idea of love has always been repellent, I tell you that I love you. I love you with a species of worship which is enthralling. My whole being, my life, my soul is all yours. If you do not accept my love, then I have no further wish to live. Speak! Speak to me! I cannot wait longer. Tell me that you love me, or--or merely nod your head, and I will go!"

To such wooing as this how could woman answer? She had promised herself that she would not be ambiguous in speech, but now she learned that directness was demanded, and though her whole heart yearned for him, and she pitied the anguish which was born of his anxiety, she found it hard to say the words, which could not in honor be retracted.

So, for a moment, she was silent, and he misunderstood. He thought that her hesitation was born of sympathy for him, and that she did not speak because she feared to cause him pain by refusing him. He felt a piercing throb of agony cross his heart, and his cheek paled. He reeled and would have fallen, for he had not seated himself, but he clutched the mantel for support. In a moment he mastered himself sufficiently to say hoa.r.s.ely:

"I do not blame you! I am a nameless vagabond, and have been presumptuous! Good-bye!"

He turned away and was leaving the apartment swiftly, when his steps were arrested by a cry that thrilled him through with joy that was as painful as his sorrow had been.

"Leon! Leon! I love you!" Agnes cried, arresting his departure, and, as he turned and came again towards her, she was standing upright, and herself made the movement which gave him the privilege of embracing her.

By a singular chance, while they were thus enfolded in love's first rapturous clasp, and therefore oblivious of all the world except themselves, Judge Dudley, who had not yet left the house, entered the room. He saw them, but they did not observe him. Instantly he realized that the Doctor's scheme had borne fruition. He hesitated but for a moment, and then, stepping lightly, he went out of the room, and departed from the house.

How often do our joys and sorrows approach us hand in hand? There comes a moment fraught with bliss; the draught is at our lips, and we take one lingering sip of ecstasy, when on a sudden the br.i.m.m.i.n.g gla.s.s is dashed aside, and a cloud of misery enshrouds us round about! Thus it happened to Leon.

After an hour of joyous converse with Agnes, now "his Agnes," he started for home. Arriving there, he ran lightly up the steps, as if treading on air. He was whistling a merry tune, as he opened the door of his room, and closed it again having entered. His mind was filled with ecstatic antic.i.p.ation of what the future had in store for him. It did not seem possible that anything could happen to disturb the sweet current of his thoughts. Yet a moment later he was arrested by the sound of a moan, an agonizing groan that filled his heart with dread.

Again it was repeated, and immediately he knew that it was Lossy, who was suffering. He stooped and looked under the bed. There, indeed, was his fond animal friend, but around his mouth there was an ominous ma.s.s of foam. Had the poor beast gone mad? With a pang of anxiety, Leon drew the bedstead away from the wall, and went behind it to where Lossy had dragged himself. One glance into the dog's eyes turned up to meet his with all the loving intelligence of his customary greeting, and Leon dismissed the idea of rabies. Tenderly he lifted the dog and carried him to a table near the window, upon which he made a bed with pillows. He wiped the foam from his lips, and as he did so Lossy gently protruded his tongue and licked his master's hand. He also feebly wagged his tail, and endeavored to rise, but his exhausted condition prevented, and with a groan he dropped back and lay there crying piteously as a child might do. Leon could not comprehend the trouble. "What is the matter with him?" he asked himself. "He certainly was well this morning." As he looked, the foam began to gather again, as Lossy worked his lips in such a way as to eject the saliva from his mouth. Suddenly the explanation came to Leon.

"Aconite!" he cried aloud. "Lossy has been poisoned! By whom? Perhaps he got into the laboratory. But how? How did he get at the poison? Oh!

If I had only remained at home this morning!"

But regrets for the past are ever impotent, and Leon did not waste much time deploring what had gone before. He quickly procured some charcoal, and mixing it with milk administered it to his dog. The foaming ceased, and the beast seemed more comfortable, but it was questionable whether any permanent benefit would result from the use of the antidote.

While Leon sat watching his pet, with a growing pain gnawing at his heart as the conviction thrust itself upon him that the dog would die, his door opened and Madame Medjora appeared. Coming forward she looked at Lossy a moment, and then said:

"Do you think that the brute will die?"

"I am afraid that he will," mournfully answered Leon.

"Then why doesn't he die right off," she said. "It is several hours since I gave him the poison."

"You gave him the poison?" exclaimed Leon, springing up in wrath. "You poisoned Lossy, and you dare to tell me of it?"

"I dare to tell you? Yes! I dare do anything that woman can do. I am a descendant of soldiers. The brute ate one of my lace handkerchiefs, and I was glad of the excuse to be rid of him. There! You know the truth now, what will you do about it?"

As she uttered the words, Madame drew herself up to the full height of her commanding figure, and it would have been a daring man who would have attacked her. But when even feeble men are urged on by rage, they do deeds which braver men would hesitate to attempt. Utterly bereft of the restraining faculty of reason, by the information that his pet had been intentionally destroyed, Leon sprang forward, and would have seized the proud neck of Madame between his powerful hands, in an endeavor to carry out the desire to throttle her, which had forced itself upon his brain, but at that very instant Dr. Medjora came in, and, with a single glance, appreciating that the lad was beside himself, he rushed forward and held him firmly.

"What does this mean, Leon?" the Doctor demanded.

"She has poisoned Lossy! Let me go! I will kill her!"

Leon struggled fiercely to be free, but he found himself restrained by muscles which were like steel. The Doctor, however, was himself tremendously moved by what he heard. Addressing his wife he asked:

"Did you do that? Does he speak the truth?"

"I gave the beast poison. Yes! What of it?"

"Then you are a wicked fiend, Madame. Leave the room!"

"I will not!" replied Madame, with energy.

"Leave the room, or else I will release the boy. Go! go quickly whilst you may!" The Doctor's tones were imperative, and as the woman looked into the faces of the two men, her courage left her, and with a muttered imprecation she hurried from the room. As the door closed after her, the Doctor released Leon, but by a swift movement intercepted him as he endeavored to escape from the apartment, and turning the key in the lock he took it out, and thus prevented Leon from following his wife.

"Leon, my dear boy," said the Doctor, in tones expressive of the deepest sympathy, "let us see what we can do for Lossy. Perhaps it is not too late to save him, and it is better to do that, than to vent your anger upon a woman."

"A woman! Do not call her by that name. She is a contamination to her s.e.x. Pardon my speaking so of your wife, Doctor, but--but--she has murdered Lossy. Murdered my dog, just as I called such a deed murder, in the little story which I showed to you that day in the woods. Do you remember?"

"Perfectly, but there can be no murder unless he dies. Let me see!"

"Yes! Yes! Save him! Use your wonderful knowledge to save this dumb brute, as I have seen you pluck infants from the brink of the grave.

Save my pet, my kind friend! Save him and I will do anything for you!

Only save my Lossy!"

Poor Leon! This was the one love which had been his for so many years.

How long he had taken comfort and pleasure in lavishing his affection upon his dog, who had learned to understand and obey his slightest nod.

Dr. Medjora examined Lossy carefully, and looked very grave. Presently he looked up, and placing one hand tenderly on Leon's head, he spoke softly:

"Be brave, my lad. Many such bitter moments as this must be borne through life. You must meet them like a courageous man."

"There is no hope?" sobbed Leon.

"None! He is dying now! See how faint his respirations are?"

With a cry of anguish Leon fell to his knees and gazed into his dog's eyes. He patted the head lying so limp and listless, and in response poor Lossy made one feeble effort. He gazed back into his master's face, and Leon ever afterward claimed that, in that last lingering look, he detected the living soul which was about to depart from his dying dog. Lossy painfully opened his mouth and protruded his tongue so that it barely touched Leon's hand in the old-time affectionate salutation, and the soul of the dog departed for that realm beyond the veil.

Leon leaned forward a moment, with his ear to the dog's heart, listening for an answering vibration, which would indicate that life yet lingered, but, receiving none, with a cry he fell forward to the floor and burst into uncontrollable sobs.

Doctor Medjora, wise physician that he was, made no futile effort to restrain these tears, knowing them to be the best outlet for natural grief. With a glance filled with tender love for his _protege_, he unlocked the door and pa.s.sed out un.o.bserved, leaving Leon with all that remained of the Marquis of Lossy.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE DISCOVERY.

Early in the morning of the same day upon which Leon had offered himself to Agnes, Madame Medjora, reading her _Herald_, had at last found the long-awaited personal, "Come," the signal which she had arranged with the detective. Immediately after breakfast, therefore, she had started forth to learn what had been discovered.