Kate Danton, or, Captain Danton's Daughters Part 40

"I don't think it was a ghost," he repeated, lowering his voice. "I don't think he is dead."

She did not speak; she only sat looking up at him with that white, still face.

"There is no need of your wearing a widow's weeds, Agnes," he said, touching her black dress; "I believe your husband to be alive."

She never spoke. If her life had depended on it, she could not have uttered a word--could not have removed her eyes from his face.

"I have no positive proof of what I say, but a conviction that is equal to any proof in my own mind. I believe your husband to be alive--I believe him to be an inmate of this very house."

He stopped in alarm. She had fallen back in her chair, the bluish pallor of death overspreading her face.

"I should have prepared you better," he said. "The shock was too sudden.

Shall I go for a gla.s.s of water?"

She made a slight motion in the negative, and whispered the word,

"Wait!"

A few moments' struggle with her fluttering breath, and then she was able to sit up.

"Are you better again? Shall I go for the water?"

"No, no! Tell me--"

She could not finish the sentence.

"I have no positive proof," said Doctor Danton, "but the strongest internal conviction. I believe your husband to be in hiding in this house. I believe you saw him that night, and no spirit."

"Go on, go on!" she gasped.

"You have heard of Mr. Richards, the invalid, shut upstairs, have you not? Yes. Well, that mysterious individual is your husband."

She rose up and stood by him, white as death.

"Are you sure?"

"Morally, yes. As I told you, I have no proof as yet and I should not have told you so soon had I not seen you dying by inches before my eyes.

Can you keep up heart now, little despondent?"

She clasped her hands over that wildly-throbbing heart, still not quite sure that she heard aright.

"You are to keep all this a profound secret," said the Doctor, "until I can make my suspicions certainties. They say women cannot keep a secret--is it true?"

"I will do whatever you tell me. Oh, thank Heaven! thank Heaven for this!"

She had found her voice, and the hysterics threatened again. Doctor Danton held up an authoritative finger.

"Don't!" he said imperatively. "I won't have it! No more crying, or I shall take back all I have said. Tell a woman good news, and she cries; tell her bad news, and she does the same. How is a man to manage them?"

He walked across the room, and looked out at the night, revolving that profound question in his man's brain, and so unable to solve the enigma as the thousands of his brethren who have perplexed themselves over the same question before. After staring a moment at the blinding whirl of snow he returned to the seamstress.

"Are you all right again, and ready to listen to me?"

Her answer was a question.

"How have you found this out?"

"I haven't found it out. I have only my own suspicions--very strong ones, though."

A shadow of doubt saddened and darkened her face. Her clasped hands drooped and fell.

"Only a suspicion, after all! I am afraid to hope, seems so unreal, so improbable. If it were Harry, why should he be here? Why should Captain Danton protect and shield him?"

"That is what I am coming to. You knew very little of your husband before you married him. Are you sure he did not marry you under an a.s.sumed name?"

A flash of colour darted across her colourless face at the words. Doctor Danton saw it.

"Are you sure Darling was your husband's name?" he reiterated, emphatically.

"I am not sure," she said faintly. "I have reason to think it was not."

"Do you know what his name was?"

"No."

"Then I do. I think his name was Danton."

"Danton!"

"Henry Richard Danton--Captain Danton's only son."

She looked at him in breathless wonder.

"Captain Danton's only son," went on the Doctor. "You have not lived all these months in this house without knowing that Captain Danton had a son?"

"I have heard it."

"Three years ago this son ran away from home, and went to New York, under an a.s.sumed name. Three years ago Henry Darling came first to New York from Canada. Henry Darling commits a crime, and flies. A few months after Captain Danton comes here, with a mysterious invalid, who is never seen, who is too ill to leave his room by day, but quite able to go out for midnight rambles in the grounds. Old Margery has known Captain Danton's son from childhood. She sees Mr. Richards returning from one of those midnight walks, and falls down in a fit. She says she has seen Master Harry's ghost--Master Harry being currently believed to be dead.

Shortly after, you see Mr. Richards on a like occasion, and you fall down in a fit. You say you have seen the apparition of your husband, Henry Darling. Putting all this together, and adding it up, what does it come to? Are you good at figures?"

She could not answer him. The ungovernable astonishment of hearing what she had heard, struck her speechless once more.

"Don't take the trouble to speak," said Doctor Frank, "my news has stunned you. I shall leave you to think it all over by yourself, and I trust there will be an end of tears and melancholy faces. It is ever darkest before the day dawns. Good-evening!"

He was going, but she laid her hand on his arm.

"Wait a moment," she said, finding her voice. "I am so confused and bewildered that I hardly understand what you have said. But should it all be true--you know--you know--" averting her face, "he believes me guilty!"