A TERRIBLE SUMMONS.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting
With most admired disorder.
—Shakespeare.
The servant left the room, and presently returned and ushered in a tall, stout, gray-haired man, whom all present recognized as Mr. John Bowlen, the deputy sheriff of the county.
The new-comer bowed to the assembled company and walked straight up to Alden Lytton, who advanced to meet him.
"You are Mr. Alden Lytton, I presume?" said the deputy-sheriff.
"Why, of course I am, Mr. Bowlen! You know that quite well, don't you?" smiled Alden.
"I thought I did; but I wished to be quite sure in a case like this. You are my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," said the deputy-sheriff, so calmly and distinctly that every one in the room both heard and understood the strange words.
Yet no one uttered an exclamation of surprise. I think they were all too much stunned for that.
Alden Lytton simply stared in silent amazement at the officer, while others, including the two bridegrooms, gathered around him.
"What did you say just now? Perhaps I did not hear you aright," inquired Alden, elevating his eyebrows, for there was something that struck him as unreal, ludicrous and bordering upon the burlesque in the whole situation.
"I said that you were my prisoner, Mr. Alden Lytton," answered the deputy-sheriff, gravely. "I repeat that you are my prisoner[."]
"Prisoner!" echoed a score of voices, giving expression at length to their amazement.
"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he is my prisoner. I think I spoke plainly enough; and I hope I shall have no trouble in making the arrest," answered the deputy-sheriff, who, if he were not behaving very rudely, was certainly not doing his duty very courteously.
"Upon what charge, I pray you, am I to be arrested?" inquired Mr. Lytton, sarcastically, still inclined to treat the whole matter as a very bad practical joke.
"You may read the warrant, sir," answered the officer, unfolding a document and placing it in the hands of Alden Lytton, who, with some anger and curiosity, but no anxiety, began to read it.
"What is the matter? What does this person want here?" inquired Emma, in surprise, as she entered the room, came up to the group and saw the intruder.
"He has some business with me, my love," answered her husband, controlling himself with a great effort, as he read the shameful charges embodied in the warrant commanding his arrest. Then, still speaking with forced calmness, he said to the deputy-sheriff:
"I will go with you first into the library, Mr. Bowlen, where we can talk over this matter with my friends."
And turning to the two bridegrooms he inquired:
"Can you give me a few minutes with this officer in the library?"
"Certainly," answered Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent, in one voice.
"Ladies, you will excuse us for a few minutes?" inquired Mr. Lytton, smiling around upon the group.
"Certainly," answered two or three ladies, speaking for the whole party.
"Follow me, if you please, gentlemen," said Alden Lytton, as he led the way to the library.
There the four men—Mr. Lytton, Mr. Lyle, Mr. Brent and the sheriff—stood around a small table, all with anxious and some with questioning looks.
"Read that and tell me what you think of it," said Mr. Lytton, placing the warrant for his arrest in the hands of Mr. Lyle.
"Think of it? I think it at once the falsest, basest and most absurd charge that ever was made against an honorable man!" exclaimed Mr. Lyle, in righteous indignation, as he threw the document on the table.
"It is all a diabolical conspiracy!" added Joseph Brent, who had read the warrant over the shoulder of his friend.
"It can not stand investigation for one moment," said Stephen Lyle.
"And the wretches who got this up should be severely punished!" exclaimed Joseph Brent.
"Most severely!" added Stephen Lyle.
"But what show of foundation could they have had for such a charge? The warrant accuses you of having 'feloniously intermarried with one Emma Angela Cavendish in and during the lifetime of your lawful wife, Mary Lytton, now living in this State!' Now, who the very mischief is this Mary who claims to be Lytton? Oh, Alden, my son, what have you been up to?" inquired Joseph Brent, half in mockery and half in real anxiety.
"Whatever else I may have been 'up to,' I certainly never have been 'up to' marrying two wives at one time," answered Alden, in the same spirit of half banter, half protest.
"But who is this Mary, self-styled Lytton?"
"I know no more than the dead!"
"But are you sure you never had a slight flirtation with, or a platonic affinity for, a Mary or anybody else?"
"Never! Nor do I even know a single 'Mary' in this world, except—"
"Oh, yes!—except whom—except whom?"
"Mrs. Mary Grey," answered Alden, gravely, and with a certain new disturbance in his manner that had not been there before.
Mr. Lyle brought his hand down upon the table with an emphatic thump.
"That is the woman!" he said, with an air of entire conviction. "But surely you never fell under her baleful spell?"
"Ah, who that ever knew her has not fallen under that baleful spell? But for the last two years I have been entirely disillusioned," answered Alden.
"Come, gentlemen, I am sorry to hurry you; but really," said Sheriff Bowlen, taking out his watch, "it is now two o'clock, and we must get on to Wendover."
"Very well," answered Alden Lytton, coldly. Then turning to Mr. Brent and Mr. Lyle he said: "And you, my friends, must be getting on, too, or you will lose your train. And then what will become of your bridal trips?"
"I do not care what may become of my bridal trip! I mean to see you safe through this abominable conspiracy—for a conspiracy it certainly is, whoever may be the conspirators!" said Joseph Brent, emphatically.
"Pooh—pooh! Some very shallow piece of malice, or some very poor practical joke upon me or the magistrate! The wonder is, however, that any magistrate could be found to issue such a warrant as this," said Alden Lytton, making light of a matter which he thought the slightest investigation must soon set right.
In the meantime Joseph Brent and Stephen Lyle spoke apart for a few minutes, and then came to Alden Lytton and said:
"Look here; we are going with you to the magistrate's office. We are determined to see this matter through. It may be a trifle or it may not."
"And how about the two pretty girls who are waiting, with their hats on, to be taken on their wedding tours?"
"They can wait. A few hours, which must decide this, can make but little difference to them. Your lovely lady will give them house-room to-day," said Mr. Lyle.
As Alden Lytton was about to reply, urging his friends not to delay their journey on his account, he caught sight of Emma standing in the hall, just outside the library door.
Her face was pale with anguish, and her hands were clasped tightly together, as she said:
"Alden—Alden! Oh, Alden, come to me for one moment!"
"Let me go and speak to my wife. I will not run away," said Mr. Lytton, sarcastically, to the deputy, who was close upon his heels.
And he went up to Emma and said, cheerfully:
"Do not be alarmed, love; there is nothing to fear."
"Oh, Alden, dearest, what is it? They are talking about a warrant and an arrest in there. It is not true—oh, it can not be true!" said the young wife, a little incoherently.
"There is some mistake, my love, which would be simply ludicrous if it were not so annoying. I must go to Wendover and set it all right," replied Mr. Lytton, cheerfully.
"Are you certain it is nothing more than a mistake?"
"Nothing more than a mistake or a jest, dear love. But I must go to Wendover to set it right."
"But what sort of a mistake is it? What is it all about?"
"I will explain it all when I come back, my wife. I do not quite comprehend it yet."
"How soon will you be back?"
"As soon as ever this matter shall be explained—in time for tea, if possible. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Brent are going with me. You will take care of the girls during the few hours' delay in their journey. There, love, return to your guests and let me go. This officer is growing impatient."
While Alden Lytton was trying to soothe the anxiety of his wife, Mr. Brent and Mr. Lyle had crossed to the drawing-room to explain to their brides that an unexpected event had occurred which would delay their journey for a few hours, during which they would remain as the guests of Mrs. Alden Lytton.
And before the young ladies could make a comment the deputy-sheriff, with Alden Lytton in custody, passed out.
Then Stephen Lyle and Joseph Brent hurried out and entered the same carriage occupied by Alden Lytton and the sheriff.
During the drive to Wendover the three gentlemen tried to learn from the sheriff more particulars concerning the charges made against Mr. Alden Lytton.
But the sheriff knew little or nothing concerning those charges beyond what was embodied in the warrant that authorized the arrest.