Vashti Part 47

That some mysterious circ.u.mstances veiled the earlier portion of Mrs.

Gerome's life, he had inferred from Elsie's promise of confidence, and since death denied her the desired revelation, he had put imagination upon the rack, in order to solve the riddle.

What could the old nurse wish to tell him, that she was unwilling to divulge until her latest breath? Could the stain of crime cling to that pale face on the pillow, or to those white hands that rested so helplessly in his? Had she soiled her life by any deed that would bring a blush to those thin sunken cheeks, or a flush of shame to the brow of the man who loved her? Now bending fondly over her, the language of his heart was,--

"Let her dead past bury its dead! Let the bygone be what it may,--come sorrow, come humiliation, but I will dauntlessly shield her with my name, defend her with my strong arm, uphold her by my honor, save her soul by my prayers, comfort and gladden her heart with my deathless love."

He was well aware that this night must decide her fate,--that her feeble frame could not much longer struggle with the disease that had almost vanquished it,--and leaning his forehead against her hand, he silently prayed that G.o.d would speedily restore her to health, or give him additional grace to bear the bitter bereavement.

She slept more quietly than she had been able to do for some days, and Dr. Grey sent for Robert, who was pacing the walk that led to the stables. They sat down together on the steps at the rear of the house, and the gardener asked in a frightened, husky tone,--

"Is there bad news?"

"I see little change since noon, except that she is more quiet, which is certainly favorable; but she is so very ill that I thought it best to consult you about several matters. Do you know whether she has made a will?"

"No, sir. How should I know it, even if she had?"

"Who is her agent?"

Robert hesitated, and pretended to be busy filling and lighting his pipe.

"Maclean, I have no desire to pry into Mrs. Gerome's affairs, but it is necessary that those who direct or control her estate should be appraised of her condition. It is supposed that her fortune is ample, and her heirs should be informed of her illness."

"She has no heirs, except--"

He paused, and after a few seconds exclaimed,--

"Don't ask me! All I know is that I heard her say she intended to leave her fortune to poor painters."

"To whom shall I write, or rather telegraph? Where did she live before she came to 'Solitude'? Who were her friends?"

"Mr. Simonton, of New York, is her lawyer and agent. Two letters have come from him since she has been sick. Of course I did not open them, but I know his handwriting. They are behind the clock in the back parlor."

"Would it not be better to telegraph him at once?"

"What good could he do? Better send for the minister, and have her baptized. Oh! but this is truly a world of trouble, and I almost wish I was safely out of it."

"If she were conscious, she would not submit to baptism; and it would not be right to take advantage of her delirium and force a ceremony to which she is opposed."

"Not even, sir, to save her soul?"

"Her soul can not be affected by the actions of others, unless her will cooperates, which is impossible in her present condition. Robert, after your mother was partially paralyzed, she said that she desired to confide something to me just before her death, and intimated that it referred to Mrs. Gerome. She wished me to befriend her mistress, and felt that I ought to know the particulars of her early history.

Unfortunately, Elsie was speechless when I arrived, and could not tell me what she had intended to acquaint me with. I mention this fact to a.s.sure you that if your mother could trust me, you need not regard me so suspiciously."

"Dr. Grey, as far as I am concerned, you are very welcome to every thought in my head and feeling in my heart; but where it touches my mistress I have nothing to say. I will not deny that I know more than you do, but when my poor mother told me, she held my hand on the Bible and made me swear a solemn oath that what she told me should never pa.s.s my lips to any man, woman, or child. So you must not blame me, sir."

"Certainly not, Robert. But if she has any friends it is your duty to send for them at once."

Dr. Grey rose and went into the library, where for some moments he walked to and fro, perplexed and grieved. As his eye rested on the escritoire, he recollected the key which he had kept in his pocket since the hour that he picked it up from the carpet.

Doubtless a few minutes' search in its drawers and casket would place him in possession of the facts which Elsie wished to confide; but notwithstanding the circ.u.mstances that might almost have justified an investigation, his delicate sense of honor forbade the thought. Taking the letters from the mantelpiece, he turned them to the lamp-light.

_Mrs. Agla Gerome, Care of Robert Maclean, Box 20._ ---- ----.

They were post-marked New York, and from the size and appearance of the envelopes he suspected that they contained legal doc.u.ments.

Perhaps one of them might prove a will, awaiting signature and witnesses. Dr. Grey carried them into the room where his patient still slept, and placed them on the dressing-table. Accidentally his glance fell on a large worn Bible that lay contiguous, and brightening the light, he opened the volume, and turned to the record of births.

"Vashti Evelyn, born June 10th, 18--.

"Henderson Flewellyn, born April 17th, 18--.

"Vashti Flewellyn, born January 30th, 18--."

On the marriage record he found,

"Married, July 1st, 18--, Vashti Evelyn to Henderson Flewellyn.

"Married, September 8th, 18--, Evelyn Flewellyn to Maurice Carlyle."

The only deaths recorded were those of Henderson and Vashti Flewellyn.

Whatever the mystery might be, Dr. Grey resolved to pursue the subject no further; but wait patiently and learn all from the beautiful lips of the white-faced sphinx, who alone possessed the right to unseal the record of her blighted life.

"Who might have been--ah, what, I dare not think!

We all are changed. G.o.d judges for us best.

G.o.d help us do our duty, and not shrink, And trust in heaven humbly for the rest."

CHAPTER XXII.

The profound stillness that pervades a room where life and death grapple for mastery, invites and aids that calm, inexorable introspection, which Gotama Buddha prescribes as an almost unerring path to the attainment of peace; and, in the solemn silence of his last and memorable vigil, Dr. Grey brought his heart into complete unmurmuring subjection to the Divine will. A _soi-disant_ "resignation" that draws honied lips to the throne of grace, leaving a heart of gall in the camp of sedition, could find no harbor in his uncompromisingly honest nature; and though the struggle was severe, he felt that faith in Eternal wisdom and mercy had triumphed over merely human affection and earthly hopes, and his strong soul chanted to itself the comforting strains of Lampert's "Trust Song."

No mere gala barge, gay with paint and gaudy with pennons, was his religion; no fair summer-day toy bearing him lightly across the sun-kissed, breeze-dimpled sea of prosperity and happiness, and frail as the foam that draped its prow with lace; but a staunch, trim, steady, unpretending bark, that with unfaltering faith at the helm, rode firmly all the billows of adversity, and steered unerringly harborward through howling tempests and impenetrable gloom. Human friendships and sympathy he considered unstable and treacherous as Peter, when he shrank from his Lord; but Christian trust was one of the silver-tongued angels of G.o.d, ringing chimes of patience and peace, far above the din of wailing, bleeding hearts, and the fierce flames of flesh martyrdom.

One o'clock found Dr. Grey sitting near the pillow, where for five hours Mrs. Gerome had slept as quietly as a tired child. The fever-glow had burned itself out, and left an ashen hue on the lips and cheeks.

Wishing to arouse her, he spoke to her several times and raised her head, but though she drank the powerful stimulant he held to her mouth, her heavy eyelids were not lifted, and when he smoothed the pillow and laid her comfortably upon it, she slumbered once more.

At the foot of the bed, with his keen yellow eyes fastened on his mistress, crouched the greyhound, his silky head on his paws; and on a pallet in one corner of the room slept Katie, ready to render any a.s.sistance that might be required.

The apartment was elegantly furnished, and green and gold tinted all its appointments. On an Egyptian marble table stood a work-box curiously inlaid with malachite and richly gilded, and there lay some withered flowers, a small thimble, and a pair of scissors with mother-of-pearl handles. Around the walls hung a number of paintings, which, with one exception, were landscapes or ocean-views; and as Dr.

Grey sat watching the shimmer of lamp-light on their carved frames and varnished surfaces, they seemed to furnish images of

"Green glaring glaciers, purple clouds of pine, White walls of ever-roaring cataracts; Blue thunder drifting over thirsty tracts, Rose-latticed cas.e.m.e.nts, lone in summer lands,-- Some witch's bower; pale sailors on the marge Of magic seas, in an enchanted barge Stranded at sunset, upon jewelled sands.

Some cup of dim hills, where a white moon lies, Dropt out of weary skies without a breath In a great pool; a slumb'rous vale beneath, And blue damps p.r.i.c.kling into white fire-flies."

No sweet-lipped, low-browed Madonnas, no rapt Cecilias, no holy Johns nor meek Stephens, no reeling Satyrs nor vine-clad _Bacchantes_ relieved the eye, weary of mountain ghylls, red-ribbed deserts, and stormy surf.a.ge.